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eliemo · 4 years ago

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Heart of Ice

Summary: Virgil quickly realizes the light sides had some kind of unspoken rule about touch. Which would be fine, if it didn't just apply to him.

TWs: Brief panic attack, touch starvation and mentions of its affects, self esteem issues, angst with a happy ending

Taglist: @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess (let me know if you want to be added)

Virgil got it. Really, he did.

He was the villain for a long time, an unwanted nuisance everyone hated, and understandably so. He would never hold any hostility against them, not when he knew he deserved it.

Now...maybe he wasn’t a villain. Still a nuisance for sure, but a tolerated one. He’d been getting closer with the other sides, Patton’s smiles more frequent and genuine, Logan taking a real interest in what he had to say, and Roman’s annoyance quickly turning to fond affection.

So maybe they were friends. Or they were getting there at least. Virgil knew he cared about them more than they would ever care about him, but that was ok. He wasn’t outright despised and that was more than he’d ever dreamed of.

Sure, their affection could just be to keep him from ducking out again since they’d found out how easily he could ruin Thomas by leaving, but...but he hoped it was more than that.

It was a mix of conflicting emotions and desires, Virgil never quite able to understand if anything was genuine or not.

But they didn’t hate him. That was the important thing. It would be selfish to want anything more when he was so utterly unlikable, right?

He needed to get over himself. It didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t be bothering him this much. It was completely understandable that they didn’t want to touch him.

But did they have to act like he was some kind of disease?

They were all touchy feely people. Roman and Patton hugged countless times a day, and even Logan would absentmindedly clap their shoulders or squeeze their hands in passing.

Virgil watched them lean up against each other, lace their fingers together, pat each other's back in greeting and praise. It all came so naturally to them, clearly some kind of unspoken language in their little family.

And Virgil wanted that. He wanted it so badly it hurt. His chest squeezed whenever he saw Patton squeeze Logan’s hand, the loneliness crushing when Roman would pick Patton up in a crushing but safe hug.

Virgil...couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been touched. He’d grazed a shoulder in passing once or twice over the years, and he and Princey had accidentally held hands for half a second during a video, but other than that he came up blank.

And he’d definitely never had a hug. He knew that for sure. No one had offered one because...because why would they? Who would want to hug Virgil?

It was amazing enough that they were willing to be in the same room with him. All three of them were trying so hard to be friendly in the last few weeks since he’d told them his name and...it was incredible. It was like a dream.

But it was so unbearably obvious how careful they were not to touch him. Like he was something disgusting to be avoided. Like he would burn them, taint them beyond repair.

They would swerve out of his way when passing through a room to avoid brushing his shoulder, quickly pull their hands away if their fingers were about to brush his, carefully leaving as much empty space as possible if sitting beside him on the couch.

It went on for weeks, and it didn’t stop. No one commented on it, or bothered to avoid physical affection in front of him, and Virgil decided the best course of action was to try and ignore it.

If he brought it up, it would just turn into something awkward, and nothing would change. He’d rather just avoid the subject completely.

Virgil could handle that. He could ignore the ache in his chest and push down the thoughts of how desperately he just wanted a hug.

Everyone at least had the decency not to make it a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal.

Until...until it kind of was.

It had been a stressful few days for all of them, but obviously Virgil was taking the brunt of Thomas’s anxiety. They all knew that, and he appreciated how attentive and gentle they’d been with him lately.

Thomas was waiting on an important phone call, a confirmation that would give him a green light on his latest project they’d all been working non-stop on.

Virgil didn’t know the specific details of what they were waiting for, he’d lost himself to his panic immediately after hearing the words “important phone call” but he knew it was a yes or no answer, and that Thomas was incredibly anxious about it.

He and Patton were waiting in the mindscape’s kitchen, mugs of untouched hot chocolate sitting in front of them, Patton idly chatting to keep Virgil distracted.

And then Roman and Logan were suddenly rising up- the Prince with a dazzling grin on his face and Logan with a relieved sort of smile.

“He said yes!” Roman announced, and just like Virgil’s shoulders sagged, all the tension seeping out of his muscles. Thank god.

There were still more things to worry about now that the new project was actually underway. They would have to work out a new schedule, make sure they had enough time to perfect their scripts, and then of course there was the problem of nobody liking the finished product--

But that could wait. Right now...it was just nice to see everyone so happy.

Patton was already jumping up to give Roman a hug, reaching over to squeeze Logan’s hand, and Virgil quickly turned away before the ache in his chest, the feeling that longed for something similar could turn into the cold throbbing pain he occasionally grew familiar with.

He grabbed the mugs of now cooling hot chocolate to distract himself, smiling to himself as he tried to focus on the relief instead of the sorrow, and carried them over to the counter.

He set the mugs down, turned back around, and suddenly Patton was in front of him, pulling Virgil into the first hug he’d ever received in his life.

Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Patton was warm up against him, solid and comforting, arms wrapped around Virgil’s back like the softest thing in the world, and for just a second, for the first time, everything was perfect. Everything was ok, and the ache in his chest was gone.

It lasted less than two seconds, and suddenly Patton was pulling away like he’d actually been burned.

“I--”

Patton stopped whatever he’d been about to say, staring warily at a completely frozen, speechless Virgil. The warmth had seeped out of his body almost immediately, the ache returning with a vengeance, the want for touch even worse than before.

Logan and Roman were staring, eyes going from Patton to Virgil, tense and panicked like they were expecting some kind of violent reaction.

God, was touching him really that bad?

“I’m sorry,” Patton said quickly, glancing back at the others before turning back to Virgil, who quickly averted his gaze. “Sorry, Virge I wasn’t...I wasn’t thinking. I just got excited.”

“Right,” Virgil said, glad that at least his voice didn’t betray how it felt like his heart was crumbling. “I get it.”

“Virgil,” Patton said softly, and Virgil’s heart sank when he took a step back, putting even more space in between them. “I didn’t mean to, kiddo, I...it won’t happen again.”

Of course it wouldn’t. Virgil shouldn’t expect it to. They didn’t even want to brush shoulders with him, so why the hell would anyone ever hug him voluntarily?

“I know,” he said, already moving towards the doorway, grimacing when the others stepped away to give him extra space. He couldn’t help but feel a little bitter at how obvious all of it was. Come on, it wasn’t like he was infected. “It’s whatever.”

He stalked out of the kitchen, for the first time allowing himself to feel angry over this whole stupid thing. After weeks of tirelessly working to be better, after being accepted in every other way, they still wouldn’t…

He’d thought he was getting better. They’d called him family.

“Virgil?” Logan called, but Virgil ignored him, really not in the mood for any half-hearted excuses or lectures on why he should just be happy with what he got.

It was selfish to ask for more. He was greedy and awful and he would never really be one of them. He should know that by now and stop filling his head with fantasies that they might actually love him as much as they loved each other.

Virgil didn’t bother looking back to see if any of them looked even a little bit guilty. He pulled up his hood, hurried up the stairs, and locked himself in his room. It was probably where they wanted him, anyway.

Virgil collapsed at the end of his bed, head in his hands, well aware it probably looked like he was throwing a tantrum. They all probably hated him even more now.

But...but could they really blame him for being frustrated? Yeah, he didn’t expect them to be entirely comfortable around him, definitely not as physical as they were with each other, but he was really trying.

They didn’t need to make him feel like some walking virus.

Well. He’d gotten a hug, at least. His first and last real hug. He thought he might do anything to have that feeling again.

But no one wanted to hug Anxiety. Patton had said so himself- never again.

When Virgil allowed himself to be coaxed out of his room for dinner a few hours later, he noted with some sense of relief that the others seemed determined to pretend the incident in the kitchen never happened.

Good. While it didn’t undo how humiliated and disgusting he felt, the sooner they all forgot about it the sooner Virgil could continue ignoring how badly it hurt.

He shouldn't be upset. He needed to calm down and get over himself before he started causing issues.

He did, however, wonder if it was just his imagination that Roman’s chair seemed farther away from him today.

“So...movie night tonight, right?” Patton asked suddenly, voice chipper as he set down his fork. “I think we could all use some relaxation.”

“A splendid idea!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil managed not to flinch at the volume of his voice. “You’ll be joining us right, Marilyn Morose?”

Virgil startled when the attention suddenly turned to him, suspicion and hope waging war at the soft encouragement in Prince’s voice.

Was this...a guilt thing?

“I- I mean I guess,” he said. “Maybe. If you like, want me to.”

He’d always known they did movie nights at least once a week, all cuddled up together on the couch, but Virgil had never actually been invited to one until he revealed his name. He’d attended a couple of them now, and they were...nice. Even if he always ended up on the armchair.

“Of course we do!” Patton said. “We always do. You’re our family, kiddo!”

Well, they certainly had a funny way of showing that.

Virgil quickly backtracked, pushing away his own dark thoughts. That wasn’t fair to them. Aside from the lack of any physical touch, they had welcomed him almost completely. In every other way, he was treated like one of them.

Besides, he’d clearly done something to warrant the unspoken no-touching rule. It wasn’t their fault he was too stupid to figure out what it was.

“You are a large part of the reason Thomas succeeded today,” Logan added, and Virgil felt a bit breathless at the praise. “You stayed vigilant and cautious, and made sure there were no mistakes. I’m very grateful for your assistance.”

Virgil ducked his head, surprised when glancing at the other two showed only kind smiles and honest appreciation in their eyes. They were...actually being serious. He’d done something right.

“It...it wasn’t...I was just--”

“Doing your job,” Logan finished for him. “And doing it quite well, I might add. As you usually do.”

It wasn’t anywhere near as intense as the feeling Patton’s hug had brought, but...but it was close, warmth spreading over his chest. Virgil let himself relax, and offered a small smile in return.

“Ok,” he said, because he still was absolutely useless when it came to voicing his thoughts. “Thanks. Uh, you...you too.”

He might have missed it if he wasn’t always so attentive to people’s body language (sometimes overly so), but Logan’s hand was suddenly moving forward like he was going to pat Virgil on the arm.

It never made contact, of course. Logan caught himself in less than a second, the logical side sitting up ramrod straight and quickly pulling his hand back to his lap.

He offered an apologetic smile, Patton and Roman quickly clearing their throats and turning back to their dinner plates, and Virgil was forcibly reminded where he stood.

He’d done what he was supposed to do, keeping Thomas safe and helping him reach his goals, but that didn’t just magically change things.

Right. No touching. But he could survive off nothing but words of validation and verbal affirmation. That was just as good.

Except…

Except between the accidental hug and the rush of anticipation that came with Logan almost putting a hand over his own, Virgil had never felt the longing for any type of physical touch so strongly in his entire life.

He’d gotten used to having nothing, to being alone, just periodic glimpses of the warmth he would always be left out of. He’d adapted to it, learned to live with the cold ache in his chest, and moved on.

And now...

Now it kind of felt like he was dying. Like the cold loneliness was wrapping around him, all powerful and suffocating, his breaths coming faster and faster--

Patton stood to begin clearing the table, and Virgil was moving before he even really processed what he was doing.

“I got it,” he said. He was trembling slightly, and he was almost positive they could all hear it in his voice. “I can do the dishes. I’ll do them.”

It was a stupid, stupid thought that had crept into his brain, but right now- as desperate as it was- it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

Patton blinked, tilting his head like a confused puppy. “I- well thank you, kiddo but that’s ok, I think I--”

“I can do it,” he insisted. “You can- You can go relax, I- I got it.”

That was what he needed to do, right? He couldn’t be left feeling this empty and cold all the time. He would never give up what he had with the others but being this close to them all the time had awoken something in him. Nobody ever touched him and he couldn’t keep going like this.

He’d done well today. He’d been good and Logan had almost, almost set aside whatever personal bias they all had to touch him. It had been so close.

So obviously...obviously he wasn’t good enough. Not quite. He was still just horrible enough that no one could bring themselves to close the distance between them.

But that was ok. He could do better. He could be better. And if that didn’t work, then...well, then verbal praise was the next best thing, right?

Unfortunately, he must look even worse than he felt because Roman was suddenly reaching for Virgil’s plate, pulling it out of his reach.

For a second, Virgil thought about reaching for it under the small flare of hope that their fingers might brush.

“I don’t believe that is the wisest idea,” Logan said. “You’re clearly agitated and distressed. I recommend you wait on the couch while we clean up tonight.”

Virgil shook his head, though logically he knew the dirty dishes would end up slipping right through his shaking fingers if he tried to clean up right now.

But he couldn’t take the thought of just sitting on the couch, a useless hindrance they would only grow to despise more and more.

“I- I want to help--”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Ever since you began regularly eating meals with us, there have been exactly three times you have not helped with the clean up. Two of those were because Thomas summoned you, and the other was due to your fatigue after a recent panic attack.”

“But I--”

“You have had a long day,” the logical side continued. “You’re exhausted, and you need to sit down before you end up hurting yourself. Nobody is going to be angry if you take a break today, Virgil. Please accompany me to the living room.”

And Virgil knew there was no way to argue with any of that. Not when Roman and Patton were nodding encouragingly. Not when Logan was motioning for him to follow and he thought maybe, maybe he would put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder to guide him into the living room.

He didn’t.

They both ended up on the couch, Logan counting out familiar breathing exercises to keep Virgil from hyperventilating. He did his best to focus on calming down, eyes cast stubbornly down to the ground.

There was a good couple inches of space between them, enough that Logan wouldn’t accidentally bump into him if he moved his arm too fast. Of course.

“I assume what happened earlier today has made you jumpy,” Logan said after a few moments. “I assure you, Patton really is sorry. Hugging you was never his intention, sometimes the others can just get...over excited when it comes to physical affection. Patton can’t always control himself.”

Virgil bit his lip, forcibly biting back tears that threatened to rise because this was really not helping. He understood that no one ever planned on hugging him, he didn’t need it shoved in his face all the time.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”

Despite everything, Virgil had actually managed to calm down a bit by the time the others joined them for movie night, Roman plopping down on the other side of Logan, Patton shuffling around to find the remote and set down popcorn bowls.

Virgil knew trying to leave would only invite more worried frowns and gentle questions he didn’t know how to answer (besides, he didn’t particularly like the thought of being all alone up in his room right now), so he just took a shaky breath and willed himself to stay calm, shoving everything aside for the moment.

And then Patton moved to sit down with the others, and visibly hesitated at the end of the couch.

There was plenty of room for one more person. It wouldn’t even be particularly cramped, not with the way Roman was already invading most of Logan’s space.

But, of course, it was just enclosed enough that it ran the risk of Patton’s leg brushing Virgil’s when he sat down.

Virgil stood up before Patton even had the chance to open his mouth and stalked over to the empty armchair, not bothering to hide his irritation. He might not blame them for it, but that didn’t mean he had to act happy about being so repulsive to everyone.

“Aw, you don’t have to do that kiddo,” Patton said. “You can stay on the couch, I don’t mind.”

“It’s whatever,” he said, and it was like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head, the sudden distance separating Virgil from everyone else making him shudder, and his reply came out a lot more curt than he’d meant it to. “This is where you want me, right?”

Patton had lowered himself next to Logan and was peering at Virgil curiously, worried smile dropping to a slight frown. “You can sit wherever you want, kiddo. You know that.”

Virgil couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped. “Right. Just as long as it’s somewhere you won’t accidentally hug me again, right?”

The room was plunged into an uneasy silence. Great. He’d managed to make movie night awkward and the television hadn’t even been turned on yet.

“Kiddo, I--”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, guilt coiling in his gut. “It’s...sorry. I didn’t- I know you didn’t mean to. Just...long day.”

“We’ve all had a long day,” Roman snapped, sitting up from where he’d been leaning against Logan, and Virgil inadvertently found himself wondering how that would feel. “There’s no need to be rude to Patton, Negative Nancy.”

He was the one being rude? Him? After weeks of them treating Virgil like he was contagious and not even bothering to offer an explanation?

“Right,” he muttered. “I’m the asshole. Like always.”

“Virgil,” Logan spoke up, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone, and Virgil deflated. “We...understand your uneasiness. But between the three of us, physical contact has become something of a habit. We have been careful not to extend that to you, but habits take time to grow out of. And mistakes will be made.”

And Virgil...Virgil was pretty sure if he didn’t get out of this room right now he was going to burst into tears. They’d never actually talked about this before. He’d never heard them acknowledge that it wasn’t just his overactive imagination.

“I get that,” he said, voice painfully strained. “I do, I’m...I’m not trying to fight I just- just...do you guys have to be so obvious about it?”

Virgil risked a glance up, all three of them staring at him now with some form of hesitant uncertainty.

Logan cleared his throat and echoed Virgil’s request. “Obvious?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You guys don’t...I don’t get why you’ve all decided touching me is somehow the worst fucking thing in the world. I know...I know you won't touch me and it’s not like I blame you- trust me, I’ve met myself- but...you could at least maybe try not to treat me like I’m carrying the goddamn plague!”

His outburst was met with silence, the other side’s expressions unreadable, and Virgil’s heart sank when he realized his vision was becoming quickly clouded with tears.

He quickly started to backtrack. “I mean, I’m...sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to...it’s ok you guys. Really, it is. I get it, I’m...I’m Anxiety. Nobody wants...obviously you guys aren’t ever gonna--”

“Virgil,” Logan cut him off, and the logical side sounded...panicked? “I believe we may have had a very large misunderstanding. You...would you like us to engage in physical contact with you?”

Virgil hunched his shoulders, frantically blinking away tears. “I’m not...I’m not gonna make anyone...you don’t want to, and that’s fine. Really. I’m not mad, it’s ok.”

“Honey, no.” Patton sounded breathless when he spoke up, frantic. “That’s not it at all! We thought you didn’t want us touching you!”

Virgil froze, everything around him screeching to a stop, and for a moment he thought he must have misheard.

“I- you...what?” Why would they... how could they think that? He’d actually thought it was fairly obvious how badly he wanted it.

Roman stood up from the couch and crossed his arms. “Why on earth would we go out of our way to avoid touching you if it wasn’t to make you comfortable?”

Virgil blinked, suddenly completely lost. What the hell was going on? He’d thought they’d made their intentions pretty clear.

“I...why wouldn’t I want you guys to--?”

“Well, you certainly acted like it!” Roman snapped, and Virgil knew the Prince well enough by now to know he wasn’t angry, just stressed. “If you didn’t mind being touched, you wouldn’t act like we were trying to electrocute you every time we got too close!”

Patton reached up to put a hand on Roman’s arm, steadying him, but his gaze never left Virgil.

Virgil was starting to think this was all some kind of twisted dream his touch-starved mind had come up with, flipping everything around for the sole purpose of confusing him. This was...this was a joke, right? Some kind of excuse?

“What are you talking about?” he asked, ignoring how bad the tremble in his voice had gotten. “I didn’t...guys, it’s ok if you don’t want to touch me, I-I’m not gonna force you obviously, I just...never understood why it was a big deal. That’s all.”

Patton was shaking his head, hands moving to cover his mouth as Virgil spoke, and the moral side turned warily to Logan.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “We clearly could have...handled this differently. We’ve been purposely avoiding physical contact because based on your body language, we... I concluded that it made you uncomfortable.”

“It wasn't just you, Specs,” Roman said, his voice softer than when he’d been talking to Virgil. “We all clearly misunderstood. I- I still don’t quite...understand.”

The room was spinning, and Virgil did his best to blink away the dizziness washing over him, furiously wiping away a few stray tears that made their escape. He hoped no one noticed.

“I thought you just...didn’t want to. Because it’s...you know. Me.”

“Oh, kiddo.”

“What did I do?” he asked, suddenly terrified as to how he could have misread the situation so horribly for so long. “To...to make you guys think that?”

Logan blinked, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized Virgil from behind his glasses, and all three of them looked oddly confused by the question.

“I...Virgil, it’s been fairly easy to pick up on for some time now. Even before we learned your name.”

Patton frowned, taking a small step forward. “You got...really tense whenever someone would go to touch you, kiddo. Like you thought it was gonna hurt.”

“Earlier on, one of us moving like we planned on touching you would result in a flinch,” Logan added. “Later, as we got closer, we noticed you going very still. Like you were afraid. It wasn’t hard to avoid touching you before learning your name, but now…”

“We had to be more careful,” Roman jumped in. “Clearly that...wasn’t what you wanted.”

God Virgil was so stupid. This whole time he’d thought...for once he hadn’t even done anything wrong. And now all he’d managed to do was make everyone stressed and confused. He’d fucked everything up without even realizing.

They’d...they’d tried to touch him before? Before even learning his name? If he’d just been normal he could have avoided years of that cold, longing feeling settling in his chest?

He wondered if things would change now. Probably not, Virgil reasoned with himself, his throat tightening at the thought. He blew it. They’d just be upset with him now.

“I am...I am so sorry,” Logan said, and Virgil was having a difficult time following what was being said. “After getting to know you and your behavior patterns, I had concluded that your aversion to touch stemmed from sensory issues that can often relate to anxiety. Clearly, I should have asked you for confirmation.”

Logan sounded genuinely guilty, while Roman and Patton were looking at him softly. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d been wrong. They didn’t hate him, he’d just stupidly misunderstood their intentions.

But it was all cleared up now. It didn’t matter. He could suck it up and move on, just as long as he could keep the annoyingly persistent tears at bay for a little bit longer.

“It’s ok,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and hunching over himself when his breath caught in his throat. “It’s...i-it’s fine.”

God, he was so pathetic. He was pathetic. Why would anyone ever want to touch him?

“Obviously it’s not, sweetie.” Patton was suddenly in front of him, kneeling in front of the armchair. “We didn’t mean to hurt you, Virge, but it’s ok to be upset with us.”

Virgil shook his head, voice refusing to cooperate with his racing mind. He quickly wiped at the fresh tears, refusing to fall apart over something so stupid.

The next moment happened in a frantic blur, but everything clicked into place when it was over.

Patton carefully reached forward, moving to rest his hand on the anxious side’s knee, and Virgil’s heart squeezed in desperation and hope for the gentle, grounding touch he’d never been able to experience before.

His body ended up reacting differently, completely against his will. He tensed up completely, wide eyes locking onto Patton’s hand, his breathing stopping completely.

Patton noticed, of course. His face fell at the reaction, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

Oh. Virgil supposed it did look like he was scared rather than desperate. “S-sorry. I--”

“Don’t be sorry, kiddo,” Patton said, but he sounded hesitant. Disappointed. “It just...seems like you’re uncomfortable.”

“It’s...it’s not that,” Virgil managed. His voice was horribly unsteady, but he needed them all to understand that it wasn’t them- he was just too useless to control his own reactions. “I didn’t even realize I...I just have never had it before so I don’t...I don’t know how to--”

“Wait a second,” Roman said, Virgil quickly snapping his mouth shut. “What do you mean you’ve never had it?”

They were all staring at him, probably baffled and annoyed by his inconsistent rambling, and Virgil curled tighter in on himself, his cheeks burning.

“I...I’ve never, uhm…” He suddenly didn’t want to say it, all too aware of how little it mattered. This conversation should have been over a long time ago. “I’ve never been...you know. I-I’ve never...done it.”

Great, now it just sounded like he was speaking nonsense. But the others seemed to have some idea of what he was talking about, judging by the looks they were suddenly throwing each other. Roman was the only one who eventually spoke up.

“You- are you just talking about touch?” The Prince demanded, and Virgil shrank back. “Virgil, you’ve never been touched? At all?”

Virgil shrugged, dropping his gaze to his lap. “I mean, yeah. Not...not really. Other than, um, other than Patton hugging me today.”

But he’d seen Patton hug the others, and he knew what he’d gotten could barely count as one. Not that he had any right to complain. He’d be lucky if they didn’t shun him for the rest of his life after today.

“I’m sorry,” he said when the silence stretched on far too long to mean anything good. “I know, guys. I know it isn’t a big deal, I’m really really sorry for making it one, I just--”

“Virgil.” Patton’s voice came out more choked, more anguished than Virgil had expected, and then…

And then there was a hand on his face, cupping his cheek and brushing away the falling tears, and Virgil couldn’t breathe in the best way possible.

Patton’s hand was warm, enough to startle Virgil out of his spiraling panic for the moment, but his breath still hitched when he met the moral side’s watering gaze.

“Virgil,” he said again. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

Virgil blinked, still partly convinced this was a dream, heart racing in his chest. He couldn’t find his voice, eyes glued to Patton’s, but he managed a tiny nod.

It all happened so fast- suddenly Patton’s hands were wrapped around his own, pulling him off the chair and onto wobbling legs, and then he was being pulled forward...

Oh. Oh.

He fell against Patton’s chest, his head resting in the crook of the moral side’s neck, Virgil’s legs threatening to give out beneath him when Patton wrapped his arms around him and held on tight.

Virgil was sobbing before Patton even started rubbing circles on his back, rocking them both gently, hushing him softly.

He had no idea if he was doing this right, practically limp in Patton’s hold. His arms were just uselessly hanging there, hands wracked with violent tremors. But even if he did know what to do, he doubted he could force his body to move right now, only able to melt into the embrace as the living room filled with his miserable sobbing.

“Oh baby, it’s ok.” Patton was talking softly, his breath warm against Virgil’s ear, and he finally forced his hands to move up and clutch the other side’s shirt. “It’s ok, you’re ok. I’ve got you. We’ve all got you now. You’re alright.”

There was another hand cupping the back of his head, running fingers through his hair, and he caught a glimpse of Logan pressing up against them both. The movements of his fingers were slow and precise, burning Virgil’s freezing skin like the most pleasant fire, his words of reassurances lost to the sound of desperate cries.

And then Roman was there too, briefly meeting Virgil’s eyes with a sad but hopeful smile, suddenly moving around to join in and hug Virgil from behind.

He quickly realized that this, as overwhelming as it was for his first time, was the single best feeling in the entire world. He was certain that he would crash to the ground in a trembling heap if the others weren’t supporting his weight.

Virgil had never felt so warm. The brief hug in the kitchen had been nothing compared to this. He couldn’t stop shaking despite it, overwhelmed and so, so relieved, wanting nothing more than to melt into the embrace and never let go. He could stay here forever, wrapped up in safety and warmth, the rest of the cold, lonely world forgotten.

But eventually he cried himself out, sobs dying down to hiccuping gasps as he fought to get a hold of his breathing. Patton and Roman loosened their grip, Logan’s fingers slowing, but none of them pulled away just yet.

Virgil took in a shuddering breath. “I’m s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Patton said. “You don’t need to be sorry for a thing, kiddo.”

He clutched Patton’s shirt tighter, sucking in a breath when Roman moved to put a hand over his fist. “I- I thought y-you...you all--”

“We should have asked,” Patton said, pulling back enough to see Virgil’s face. “We should have realized you were hurting, honey. That’s our fault.”

“Not yours, Virge,” Roman agreed, leaning forward slightly to press his forehead against Virgil’s temple. “I can’t even imagine how isolated we must have made you feel. But that’s over now. We can fix this. We will fix this.”

“I do want to offer my sincere apologies,” Logan said. “We had all misread the behavior, but I was the one who enforced it after learning your name. I should never have jumped to conclusions so quickly.”

Virgil tried to shrug, but it quickly proved to be impossible with how tightly he was pressed against the others. He didn’t mind at all.

He wasn’t ready to let go yet, despite the way his stomach twisted at the guilt Logan didn’t deserve to be feeling, a dark part of his mind whispering that once he pulled away, the warmth would never come back.

“It’s ok,” he said, voice still raw and hoarse. “It was just a s-stupid misunderstanding, right? I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up, I- I know it’s not a big deal. It’s just a hug.”

It was a lie and they all knew it. Silly as it was, it meant the world to him. He would do just about anything to make this feeling last forever.

“Virgil, no.”

Patton was moving away, and Virgil felt a rush of blinding panic before Logan suddenly took his place, holding Virgil’s face in his hands, eyes wide and intense. Patton didn’t go far, his hand moving to clutch Virgil’s arm, and Roman only tightened his hold.

“It is not stupid, Virgil,” Logan said, tilting Virgil's chin up. “Not at all. I can assure you, it was far from an overreaction.”

“Logan--”

“Physical touch is essential for one’s mental health. Especially for those who experience heightened anxiety. I should have known... depriving you of any physical contact your entire life has left you incredibly touch starved, likely only worsening any symptoms you would naturally experience.”

Usually, Virgil found it fascinating listening to Logan, the way he so naturally took on a teaching position, spouting off information like he was reading from an invisible book.

Now, the dread and panic were clawing at his throat, and Virgil swallowed, forcing himself to speak. “Am I...am I hurting Thomas?”

The terror was overwhelming, doing all it could to convince him that the others would hate him, that Thomas would want him gone for good. But it didn’t last long, Logan shaking his head with an unbearably gentle expression.

“I am not talking about Thomas’s mental state.” He reached forward to brush away some of Virgil’s hair, looking oddly relieved when Virgil leaned into the touch. “I’m talking about yours.”

“Oh.”

Roman finally dropped his arms, but just like Patton he didn’t go anywhere, his chest still brushing Virgil’s back while he reached for one of his hands. Patton took his other one, both running gentle patterns over his knuckles with their thumbs.

Virgil felt like he was going to melt right here and now. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Since it seems you're comfortable with touch,” Logan said, and Virgil almost wanted to laugh. He was a little bit more than comfortable. “I’m hopeful we can undo any damage that has been caused. Tonight is already a good start.”

And that...that sounded amazing. It sounded more than amazing. It was all he’d wanted this whole time, years of bitter, icy cold loneliness already paling in comparison to the warmth and love he’d felt in the last ten minutes.

But...

“I...thank you. Thank you so much, but...I-I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t--”

“Kiddo,” Patton said. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself from hugging you?”

“All of us,” Roman added. “I’ve lost track of how many close calls I’ve had. I thought it was good you didn’t seem to notice how badly I wanted to, but...apparently not. But we love you, Virge. We love you so much.”

“We do!” Patton squeezed his hand. “We really, really do. You’re not forcing us into anything, kiddo. You’re family.”

Virgil kind of wanted to pinch himself to make absolutely sure this wasn’t a dream. But there was absolutely no way he could make up something this good.

“Ok,” he said, still wincing at how weak his voice sounded. “That’s...that’s good because I...I don’t think I could go back. Uh, to how it was. After...after all this. I-if this was just a one time thing, I don’t know what I’d do. And I know that’s dumb, this is literally my fault, but--”

“None of that,” Logan said, firm but not unkind, and Virgil fell silent. “This is far from a one time thing. I believe you’ll start having a hard time getting away from the hugs now.”

Virgil laughed, not really caring when it came out as more of a strangled sob. “I think I’m ok with that.”

“It’s still early,” Patton said. “You kiddos think we should take this to the couch? We can still watch some movies if you’re up to it, Virgil.”

As soon as he nodded, Virgil felt arms wrap around him again, one under his knees and one behind his back, lifting him up from the ground.

“Princey!” He wrapped his arms around Roman’s shoulders by instinct and froze, suddenly terrified he would be yelled at. But, he reminded himself, Roman was literally holding Virgil in his arms. Nobody found Virgil repulsive. “I can walk, dork.”

Roman grinned down at him, taking them both back towards the couch. Virgil found he really didn’t mind being carried when it ended up with him put down in the middle of the couch, still curled up in Prince’s hold with his head against Roman’s chest.

The others joined soon after, Patton grabbing the popcorn and sitting on Roman’s other side with his legs propped up on Virgil’s lap. Logan sat directly next to Virgil, his hand squeezing the anxious side’s shoulder before dropping his head to rest on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil shuddered, tensing against his will at the rush of sensations, but no one pulled away when he didn’t quite know how to reciprocate.

“Just relax now,” Roman said softly, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s hair while Patton got the movie started. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Virgil wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, only vaguely aware of himself drifting in and out of consciousness, still held safely by the others on the couch, an old familiar Disney movie playing in the background.

He thought his position might have been changed, but he still felt the rise and fall of Roman’s chest beneath his head, someone’s hand running gently through his hair.

For the first time, he felt safe upon waking up and let himself keep his eyes shut, breathing deeply.

“Is he asleep?” he heard Patton ask, the hand in his hair slowing for just a moment. “He really wore himself out today.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed from somewhere nearby. “Not to mention a common side effect of touch starvation is difficulty sleeping, nightmares, stress, a lower sense of self worth, dep--”

“But he’ll be ok now,” Patton said, thankfully cutting off Logan’s worryingly accurate description. “He’s got us, and he’s my kiddo. He never has to feel that way again.”

“It will take some time. And eventually we will have to have a talk about consent and boundaries- I don’t ever want him feeling overwhelmed. But you are accurate, Patton. He has us now. He will be alright.”

Virgil had to force himself not to smile, not quite ready for this to end for the night. He knew eventually he’d have to head back to his room, but the thought of being alone again, even just for the night, was--

“I don’t want him to wake up alone,” Roman whispered, like he could read Virgil’s mind. “Is it alright if we stay here tonight?”

“Of course, kiddo.”

“I am perfectly comfortable where I am.”

True to their word, none of them seemed inclined to leave the comfort of the couch, the movie’s volume eventually turned down to a faded hum.

Virgil sighed, relaxed and content, letting himself smile as he fell back into the first truly restful sleep he’d had in a long time, followed closely by warmth and love.

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acciofanfics · 5 years ago

Text

Be Quiet (Harry Potter x Reader) SMUT

Request: Can you write a story where the reader (Slytherin) and Harry fall in love with each other and have their first time (smut pls!) and at the same time Sirius and the reader find out that’s she’s his daughter? Xo

Pairing: Harry Potter x FemReader

Warnings: Smut, very slight mentions of death, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2389

A/N: I forgot to specify the reader’s house! 😭 Also I didn’t do a whole lot of set up, let’s pretend their slightly older in Order of The Phoenix and this is set in when they’re staying in Sirius’ place? -S

———————————————————————

(Y/N) rapped quietly on the door, she supposed knocking on the door at all kind of defeated the purpose of trying to be quiet, so she abandoned her efforts and attempted to open the wooden door with minimal squeaking. “Harry? Are you up?”

Harry was quick to appear and open the door for her to come into the room. Honestly, he felt kind of bad, because it had been his intention to come to her. She had just beat him to it, but he supposed that wasn’t too surprising; she had always seemed to be more sure of herself than Harry had. “Yeah, come in. I was just about to go look for you.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Harry was probably her best friend...or maybe Hermione, but that would only because she couldn’t share EVERYTHING with Harry (despite her desire to do so). She plopped on the bed and let out a sigh, a dramatic, but justified one. “This is a lot, right?”

“It’s a bit much sure… not entirely bad though?” Harry knew immediately what she’d been referring to. A bombshell for sure. One thing they had been able to bond over was the fact that she grew up without her parents, Harry was thankful that she had a much more loving and tolerant aunt and uncle though. She never knew who her father was, and her mother had died around the age of 3. She knew who her father was now though… the notorious Sirius Black.

(Y/N) knew that she had been kept in the dark for her own good. Most people still thought the man was a murderer and she knew her aunt and uncle just didn’t want her to grow up knowing that they shared the DNA. “I mean I guess not… Sirius is cool and all.” It definitely sucked that his name hadn’t been cleared to anyone not in the Order, but while not seemingly knowing a lot about what he was doing he seemed eager to try as much as he would be able to.

“I feel like I’ve been lied to my entire life and I get why they did it, but I wish I would’ve known.” (Y/N) sat up and laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. He’d sat down beside her after she’d laid back. “I suppose nothing really changes that much though.”

He could definitely relate to some extent. Harry constantly felt like he was playing catch-up, and he was always a step behind everyone in knowing about himself and his life. “Right.”

A silence fell over the pair. Harry wasn’t sure what (Y/N) was feeling, but he felt content. She always had a way of making him feel that way. Hermione kept pushing him to say something, and as much as he wanted to he always found a reason not to do so. Now for example would be incredibly inappropriate, she was already so overwhelmed it just wouldn’t be fair to add the weight of his feelings for her onto her shoulders.

“Can I ask you something completely off topic?”

“Anything.”

“Do you like me?” (Y/N) felt bad for blurting out the question. Now probably wasn’t the time and that probably wasn’t the best way to go about it, but at that moment it seemed like the most appropriate option.

Poor Harry was happy he didn’t have a mouth full or butter beer or pumpkin juice because there was no doubt that he would’ve probably spit it all over the bedding and the floor. He used to say that they were close enough that she could never surprise him, but that clearly was a lie. He often wondered if she was a Legilimen, because she seemed to have some sort of innate ability to read his mind. She also knew when he was lying to playing dumb probably wouldn’t be too much help in this situation, “Uh...yeah. Hermione says it's bloody obvious.”

(Y/N) chuckled and smiled, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it, “She says the same to me if it makes you feel any better.”

“You fancy me?” Harry always had a small suspicion, he didn’t think that Hermione would be constantly trying to get him to confess his feelings if she thought it would end badly, but still he had his doubts.

“You might be the chosen one, but you can be pretty thick sometimes…” She sighed and lifted her head from his shoulder. When he turned to see what was wrong she just planted a soft kiss on his lips. He immediately melted into it, he didn’t need to be told twice to kiss her back. He’d been thinking about doing it so long that it just seemed second nature.

Their foreheads stayed pressed together even when the urge to break away to breathe came. Her eyes were still closed, but Harry kept his open (he just needed to make sure this wasn’t a dream). “Would it be too soon to say that I’m in love with you?”

“I don’t think I’d use the word soon at all.” (Y/N) teased with a soft laugh.

Harry pulled the girl back in for another kiss, the second was even better than the first (which he hadn’t previously thought to be possible). She tasted like mint toothpaste, which probably now his favorite flavor as his tongue swept across hers. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around him, an act partially meant to pull him closer and partially meant to keep a grip on him so that when she laid down he’d come tumbling down with her.

Her back hit the mattress with a soft thud, and she found herself mildly impressed with Harry’s ability to gracefully follow her. His body resting between her legs and his hands on either side of her head. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled herself further into him, earning a small groan. Her lips curled into a smile against his skin, and she set herself on a mission to elicit a similar reaction, but not before whispering to him, “You have to be quiet, apparently my dad is in the other room.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her, but soon found himself forgetting what she’d said. Instead he was more focused on the feathery light kisses being trailed down from his cheek to his neck. He took a deep breath when she began to kiss his neck, her ministrations on the skin a new and very enjoyable experience. He didn’t even notice her hands sneaking under his shirt. He shivered slightly from her cold hands, but relaxed into her touch when she ran her palms across his chest and torso. “Whatever you’re doing for Quidditch is clearly working.” She hummed into his ear.

Harry chuckled and leaned up, pulling his shirt over his head and then helping her out of hers. He was kind of shocked by how not nervous he was. There was just something about her, he doubted there was anything in the world she could do to make him think less of her and he just had a hunch she felt the same (or least that’s the way she made him feel). There was little light in the bedroom, but he could still see her (barely, but he could). He hadn’t even thought about the fact they were in her pajamas and she probably wouldn’t be wearing a bra… she definitely wasn’t and he felt his voice catch in the back of his throat.

“This is the part where you tell me how good I look.” (Y/N) whispered playfully to him. She worried that perhaps she might’ve been ruining the moment with so much talking, but she also knew that Harry was aware she liked to make jokes to ease her own nerves. He was often the only one not taken aback by the sometimes poorly time sentiments.

“You’re bloody gorgeous.” His voice held no trace of jest and he didn’t even give her a chance to respond before he went back in for another kiss. The kiss was chaste, because honestly he wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine. When his lips met the skin of her neck (Y/N) found herself having to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her voice down. However, whenever he dipped lower and found her chest the action was futile. A sharp gasp tore through her throat at the new sensation and when to shower her breasts in kisses she no longer found holding back a moan a possible option.

The sound was like music to Harry’s ears and he began to crave hearing more like it was a song stuck in his head. He switched between her right and left nipple, carefully trying to pay the same amount of attention to each one, and he only found himself willing to stop whenever she rolled her hips upward and brushed herself against the erection he was now painfully aware of. To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what was exactly expected of him. He definitely wasn’t entirely stupid on the subject, he knew WHAT happened, but maybe he was skipping an important step in the foreplay that he wasn’t aware of. He didn’t have much time to think too much about it, because (Y/N) wiggled out from under him. He would’ve been worried that he’d done something wrong, but when she began to shed the rest of his clothes those thoughts abandoned his mind. Really the only thoughts left in his head was her… and how she looked. Completely bare. In front of him. Merlin, he wasn’t sure there was ever a sight more beautiful and he doubted he’d ever be able to think of anything else.

“Care to join me?” (Y/N) hoped she wasn’t being too forward. This really was probably too soon… they’d just had their first kiss not even an hour ago and now she was lying on his bed completely naked. She’d been imagining this for far more than a few hours though. It was definitely not a fleeting thought… well it wasn’t to her. She hoped Harry felt the same.

“Oh! Yeah!” It occurred to him how lame it must’ve been that he was just sitting there looking at her and he quickly shed his left over layers too. Now they were both naked, and still just staring.

“This is okay with you right?” She drew closer to him again, careful not to touch him until she was sure that he also wanted this.

“Yes.” He thought she was bloody insane to even ask him that, but he wouldn’t say that to her (at least not right then).

That was all she wanted to hear, (Y/N) kissed him again, but this time it was different. It was full of anticipation and desire and their lips just moved together instinctively, because they were both too focused on the feeling of their bodies being pressed together.

This time (Y/N) didn’t have to pull Harry on top of her, this time he carefully laid her down and hovered over her. The tip of his cock brushed against her core and he was worried that he’d lose it right then and there. She whimpered and raised her hips to meet him. Their eyes locked and there wasn’t a need for words to ask permission or any questions. They both knew this was exactly what they wanted. Harry reached between them and drug the tip of his cock across her folds, his eyes closed when he slowly began to press himself into her.

Immediate pleasure washed over Harry and to put it bluntly it was far better than any late night with his hand. (Y/N) felt it too, not quite as intensely as she was still adjusting to the foreign feeling of being so completely stretched by him. The thought alone made her shift her hips. He was trying not to give into the desire to just completely ruin her, the thought had crossed his mind more than once if he was being honest and now that he was presented with the actual opportunity he was doing his best to be a gentleman.

“Harry,” He had always enjoyed hearing her say his name, and this was no exception. It was at least 10 times better when it came out more of a moan than an actual word, “Move already.”

He grunted a bit at the order, but obliged nonetheless. He pulled out slowly and then resheathed himself in her again. Each time a little faster and every little whimper or moan that came from her lips egged him on ever more. It didn’t take long for the somewhat uncomfortable feeling to completely disappear and soon her weak noises became a little louder. Harry would’ve been happy to have her screaming his name, the noise echoing through the hallways, but she was right. Her father was in the other room, as well as other people who would not approve of their display of affection.

“We have.. To be.. Quiet… remember?” His sentence was broken up by the thrusting of his hips, unable to find enough concern to completely stop his movements. Knowing he was right (Y/N) roughly kissed him. She wasn’t entirely sure that it would keep the noises at bay, but it was the only thing that she could say would have the potential to work at the moment. She was getting close, she could feel something like a spring in her body being twisted tighter and tighter with every thrust and then POP. A wave of relief and pleasure erupted through her body and a moan that sounded more like a strangled sob was let out. As cliche as it sounded, it completely undid Harry and he held her close, his face buried into her shoulder as he found the same pleasure she did and his hips stilled.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“That was my first time.”

“Mine too.” He answered honestly.

“We’re pretty good at this.” She let out a quiet laugh as Harry pulled himself out of her and collapsed on the bed. She laid down beside him, her head resting on his chest.

“Honestly… I think we could go for a bit more practice.”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #request #fanfics

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the-archxr · 5 years ago

Text

Waterloo!

steve harrington x reader

Summary: After witnessing you and a Family Video frequent flirting and connecting over your favourite band, Steve gets jealous and ends up showing you how ABBA should truly be celebrated.

A/N: so hahaha, I have recently been obsessed with Mamma Mia! and Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, which led me to this fic, which is ONE THOUSAND PERCENT based off of the Waterloo scene from Here We Go Again, because the more I thought about it the more I realized that Steve is like Harry in that sense, so yeah. Here we are.

Song Inspo: Waterloo - ABBA, Waterloo - Hugh Skinner and Lily James (cause you can’t just pick one, m’kay?)

•••••

“Okay, but speaking in terms of the be-all to end-all of questions...”

The boy with the dirty blonde hair and ragged plaid shirt leans over the counter slowly. His blue eyes meet yours and his teeth are bared in a striking smirk. “And just so you know, your answer will determine the future of our relationship...”

You nod with a laugh. “Okay.”

“What’s your favourite ABBA song?”

You snort and shake your head, picking up his rental to ring it through.

He gives you an expectant look, which you respond with a simple shrug and and, “I don’t know.”

He scoffs playfully. Gliding over to the register with ease he rests his head on his fist. You roll your eyes at the sight before you. If he wasn’t so cute, then you’d be severely turned off by the excessive forwardness.

“Aw, c’mon. Everyone has a favourite.”

After shutting the register with his exact change in it, you cross your arms with a sigh. “Well, if you were as true of an ABBA fan as you say you are, then you’d know that that’s a trick question. Because every ABBA song is good, therefore, they’re all my favourite.”

“Smartass,” he huffs, earning a laugh from you.

Suddenly you hear a loud “shit” come from behind you which grabs your attention from the flirtatious customer to your coworker and friend.

“You alright, Steve?”

He hops out from behind the back wall, a faint blush gracing his cheeks and neck. “Y-yeah. Just got attacked by these goddamn boxes.”

You laugh and look back to the blonde who still hasn’t left. Quirking an eyebrow, you look him up and down.

“You’re still here?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs with a shit-eating grin. “Was hoping I’d be able to talk to you a little more.”

“...About?”

He opens his mouth to speak before his eyes flit to the clock above you. “Shit, I gotta go. I have to pick up my little brother and his friends up from the pool.”

He grabs the VHS, before shooting you a wink as he waves goodbye.

It isn’t until after he leaves that you hear a scoff come from your coworker. You frown and spin on the heels of your feet.

“Something wrong, Stevie?”

He rolls his eyes and leans over to pick up the empty boxes he tripped on earlier. “No. Yes...? I don’t know. I guess, it’s just...him?”

Picking up the remaining boxes you follow him to the back. “What do you mean ‘him’?”

“Ah, c’mon he was practically eye-fucking you in the middle of the store. It was—it was gross and icky and...bleh.”

You laugh loudly at that and watch your friends hair bounce with the movement of hauling the cardboard into the large bin. “Bleh?”

“Bleh!” You both walk back to the door, which encourages Steve to hold it open for you. “I mean that’s a total Billy move.”

“Oh, so now he’s not just bleh, he’s a Billy.”

“Yeah,” Steve huffs and runs a hand through his hair. “Meaning he’s a complete and utter dick.”

“Just cause he was flirty?”

“That’s not being flirty that’s called being horny.”

You groan at his words, regardless of the fact that they don’t offend you in the slightest. If anything they amuse you.

You heave yourself on top of the counter, one leg splayed over the countertop and the other swaying idly. He gestures to the sticker gun beside you, which you grab and wave in his direction. “Oh, and you know something about the difference between flirty and horny?”

“Yeah, because I used to be that horny guy.” He snatches the sticker gun out of your hand and begins to wave it around as he walks to the one end of the store.

“Oh, right. Your whole King Steve faze.” You watch him shake his head at your words with a slight frown. You sigh. “King Steve, ruler of the horndogs.”

He laughs, making your plan in lightening up the mood a success.

The silence in the store pulls on for a few seconds before you reach over and turn on the radio—the hum of the static and muffled voices echoing through the building as you switch through the channels before you set it on the desired station.

You lean back and watch your friend move around the store lazily, putting bright pink stickers on the assortment of rentals haphazardly.

You frown as you think (a curse, cause you never seem to stop thinking), and sit up playing with the many woven bracelets on your wrist. “No, but seriously, Steve. What’s your problem with the guy?”

He stops his motions and turns to you. He looks nervous and his chest heaves up and down with trepidation. He opens his mouth to speak, but he pauses. You can practically see the words stuck on the tip of his tongue, before he sighs, mainly to himself, and shoots you a small (and kind of sad) smile.

“He has a favourite ABBA song. No one trustworthy has one favourite ABBA song.”

You laugh at his words, slapping your knee as you keel back to the wall with laughter. He laughs loudly too and tosses the sticker gun and himself on the countertop. He sits opposite of you with his Nike shoe pressing almost perfectly against the sole of your Converse.

You look at the clock and huff. Steve follows your line of sight and his face falls at the sight of the time. “We got a whole half hour left.”

You hum and close your eyes, resting your head against the wall. You stay like that until the radio announcers voice comes through. You open your eyes instinctively, only to see that Steve is already looking at you.

But maybe he wasn’t because with one blink he’s actually looking at the door. An awkward cough resonates in the back of your throat as you groan.

That’s when the mans voice comes to a slow and the beginning of the next song plays. It takes you a second, but when you recognize the song your ears prick up and a smile graces your face.

Steve eyes you strangely as you grab the knob to turn up the sound. “What? What song is this?”

Your jaw drops in your friends direction. “Uh, Waterloo?”

“Water what?”

You laugh and hop off the counter, your feet already moving to the beat of the song. “Waterloo. It’s an ABBA song.”

“No I know this is ABBA. I’m slow, not stupid.” You cackle and roll your shoulders to the sound of the guitar. “I’ve just never heard it before.”

You grin before grabbing his hands and pulling him to the middle of the store which surprisingly has the most space. You sway both of your arms back in forth, in an attempt to coax him to start moving. An action that he doesn’t take to immediately.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be a Debbie Downer, Harrington.”

He scoffs. “I am not a Debbie Downer.”

You shake your head and stick your tongue out at him. “Well then, prove it. I mean, didn’t you used to be the funnest man in all of Hawkins?”

“Funnest isn’t a word.”

You gasp. “Wow, look who actually payed attention in English.”

He rolls his eyes and once again runs his hand through his damn hair. He stands there for a second, before a small grin appears on his face. “Also, what do you mean used to be?”

Your jaw drops as he grabs a hold of your arms and spins you around dramatically. You gasp, the breath being knocked out of you suddenly as he holds your arm above you and spins you twice. You laugh as he pulls you back into him, to which he begins to bounce around the space, spinning you every so often—much to your delight.

You gasp after another spin, but by the second verse you’re too caught up into wanting to sing the words then being worried about your lack of oxygen if you do so. “My, my! I tried to hold you back, but you were stronger!”

You spin on your heel away from him, the momentum sending you back into the counter with a laugh. “Oh yeah!” You both sing out.

Then, with a wink and a spin of his body, he uses his hand and slicks his hair back in a Greaser fashion, earning another string of laughter from you. Jumping back to you, your back is pulled into his chest as he holds an arm out and runs forward.

The bun in which you put your hair in is now dangling loosely just below your shoulders, and as he spins you for the nth time, fate would have it that some of your hair gets in his mouth. Steve sputters and makes a face, causing the both of you to erupt in another fit of laughter. Soon, you both are dancing like fools, completely in your own space, yet never too far from the others reach. “Waterloo! Finally facing my Waterloo!”

He takes your hand firmly, spins you and as the song nears the end you almost fall to the ground. However, with Steve’s knee propped up beneath you, he has you dipped and breathless. His eyes are partially closed and as he pulls you up you almost grow dizzy from him dipping you a second time. This time, the dip is more dramatic and your loose hair falls onto the ground in a soft pile, indicating that you’re far lower than the first time.

“Waterloo!” He sings, finally getting the lyrics to the song.

“Knowing my fate is to be with you.” You finish. The song ends abruptly and both of you are at a loss of breath as you try to tune down the echo of laughter.

It’s at that moment that the sound of a door bell jingling has you both breaking away from each other awkwardly. Still out of breath, you hurriedly rush to the counter and try to smooth down your hair. (Not that you expect that to hide anything with the way your cheeks are so inflamed. If anything, whoever had come in would think that they caught you in Steve in the middle of something else.)

Your eyes finally focus on the customer, realizing that it’s the same blonde boy from earlier. “Hey, again.” He winks at you, resting his forearm on the countertop.

“Hey,” you say back. Your eyes flit over to Steve, whose back is faced to both of you. He’s already walked to the other side of the store, and the obvious distance he has quickly put between himself and the customer makes you think.

But you don’t have to think too hard as the realization practically hits you over the head. You suddenly grin and look at the counter, the feeling of your cheeks reddening further blooming throughout your upper body.

“So, uh...” the boy in flannel begins, clicking his tongue. “I came back.”

“I see that.” You counter him quickly with a soft smile.

He laughs and runs a hand over his jaw before looking to you. He hesitates. But only for a moment. “I’m tryna’ ask you out, ya know.”

You nod at that. “Yeah, I know.”

He pauses as he bites the inside of his cheek. Suddenly, the air around you two has turned very awkward and you can tell that he knows it.

“So...”

You shrug. “So?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets he moves his shoulders up in question. “So what do you say?”

You look down at your bracelets for a moment before looking back at him with a soft smile. “I’d have to say that I’m flattered. But, uh, no thanks.”

The boys eyes widen, as does Steve’s who’s attention is now on both of you.

The blonde nods and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh...okay then. Thanks for being honest at least.”

You smile at him, which sends the boy back to the door and on his way. You let out the breath you had been holding in and look to Steve who looks just as shocked as the other guy.

“What just happened?”

“I said no to his offer.” You say matter-of-factly as you walk around the counter and closer to your friend. He shifts from foot to foot, his eyes telling you that his brain is going a mile a minute.

“W—why? Why would you say no?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Usually you say no to a date when you don’t want to go on a date. At least, I don’t want to go on a date with him anyway...”

Your voice trails off purposely as you look directly at the boy in question. Steve is still stunned and is still very confused, which makes you want to laugh at his obliviousness.

It’s cute though...his obliviousness.

...He’s cute.

“Steve,” you say lowly. He’s biting his lip, and the slightest hint of worry blooms over his features.

“...Yeah?”

You sigh. “Well I’m trying to imply that I want to go on a date with you...”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say that Steve had stopped breathing. Eliciting a laugh from you, you glide closer to him and look the boy in the eyes. “Steve...did I break you?”

He almost short circuits in a sense and looks at you with disbelief. “You want to go on a date with me?”

You shrug with a nod. “I think it could be fun.”

The poor boy stands there, still in shock. You shake your head and kiss him on the cheek before walking to the counter and grabbing your bag.

“Pick me up at 8 tomorrow at Dustin’s and we’ll go to Dairy Queen or something.”

His eyes and mouth are wide open as his gaze follows you to the door. The door barely closes behind you before you pop your head back in the store. “Oh, also, Steve since you’re the last one in here you gotta’ lock up.” You smile widely at him and run off before he can protest.

But even with the thought of having to lock up present in his mind, Steve doesn’t feel like protesting. When he comes back to his senses he nods to himself with a smile and runs to the back; excitement coursing through him.

•••••

Steve Harrington Taglist:

@wigofokoye @timeladygallifrey @fairlysuitehearts @loulouloueh @bluegreyme @coltonparayyko @readinthegarden12 @hello-therree @gothackedalready @aphrodites-perfume @fic-cheesecake @bohemiandeakyy @nerd-domland @blueoz @laneygthememequeen @xelaalec @i-justlikewhales @elen-alambil @heykarsyn @yellowhopes @veeshthefrog @justsomeficsilike @cxddlyash @aniya21890 @billyhargrovescigarette @nugturally @daddystevee @asheseiler @enchantedcruelsummer @jxnehxpper

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #joe keery x reader #joe keery #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagines #abba references #waterloo #this ia kinda cheesy #but like #who cares #its cute #mamma mia! here we go again #references

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petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

Sanjou no Ai

click to read from beginning

Bakudeku Au fic, final chapter

For the first few months of their new arrangement, the mated pair settled into a routine of sorts. Almost every night, the okami would return to the Shrine after nightfall and spend it with Izuku, but always left before the sun peaked over the horizon the following morning. It was okay for the time being since now Katsuki could take his time in re-educating the kitsune on the ways of a yokai. And there was so much that Izuku had no clue about. Until now, he only had the scant information left by the previous shrine keeper and the instinctual sides he couldn’t avoid. But even those had not gone without question because he didn’t always understand why he felt the way he felt or did the things he did. For instance, he thought he was ‘born’ to live a life in the shrine, but that wasn’t true at all. The god created them for purposes, such as the okami to protect the wolves and forest, the kitsune too had a similar role. Then at some point when the current shrine was built upon the mountain, the kitsune yokai pledged to help the humans. Generations later left the likes of Izuku in a role he didn’t even know why it existed but performed faithfully… until now.

The information left him semi-torn about his life. Should he continue to honor that treaty and stay at the shrine, or give into his instincts and become a free protector of the forest? It shouldn’t be such a difficult choice, but what brought on the anxiety fell more into could he do it? Could he learn to fend for himself? It was an internal battle that’s been raging from before he and Katsuki mated, but now took center stage. Of course, the okami assured his mate that he wouldn’t be alone. As the alpha it was his responsibility to provide for and protect his omega, especially if the kitsune became pregnant. And besides, Izuku needed to give himself more credit for his strength. Katsuki pointed out how the man had risked his life to save an injured wolf, did that not show how strong or brave he could be when needed? Izuku had no argument against such a statement.

Still, that didn’t calm his mind, if anything, new thoughts would come for Izuku to mill over. Okay fine, maybe he would be okay for himself, but what about with the pups Katsuki mentioned. He’d have to worry about protecting their lives. A family was just another topic he was trying to wrap his brain around. Like first off, they were both canines but not the same species. Again, it was the okami who reminded the kitsune of magic, that they don’t operate under the same laws of nature. Which didn’t really explain much at all, so he simply put it aside instead of continuing the conversation. Next, if they were to desire a family, Izuku definitely would need to leave the shrine. Katsuki wasn’t pressing him over the topic, but maybe it was those omegan features kicking in that made the kitsune think about it. Like some hormonal drive to reproduce because he certainly never felt such instincts before!

One night after another mellow round of love making, they lay there cuddled in Izuku’s bed.

“Kacchan,” the kitsune whispered with hesitation in his tone. “Why haven’t I become pregnant considering how often we do this?”

“Where the hell did this question come from?”

“I know it’s random… but, oh, I don’t know, it’s just something I been wondering about for a few weeks now.”

Katsuki’s turned Izuku around to face him. “If you really must know. I’ve been using magic to sterilize my seed because I know you’re not ready.”

That answer made the kitsune a little irritated. Shouldn’t such a decision be made by both of them, together?! Regardless of if he was ready or not. “That’s not fair.” Izuku pouted.

“Oh, and you saying you are? You know full well you cannot be working here and get pregnant. Look, you should be happy that I’m not pressuring you to leave this place immediately and take your place in my nest where you belong.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Izuku whimpered in toil.

Katsuki was digging down deep not to lose his patience right now, but after months of waiting could anyone blame him? He took a deep breath to control himself from growling. “I know you’re scared of being away from here, but I don’t know how many more ways I can say it, you don’t have to be. I’ll take care of you and our family when we have one. You just need to decide between the shrine and me.”

“Decide right now?”

“No. Now you sleep,” Katsuki bundled the kitsune against his body preferring to end the night for now and deal with it later. “But you will need to do it soon.”

But Izuku was no fool and could sense the irritation in his mate. He could tell Katsuki was just holding back from lashing out. “You’re not mad at me… are you?”

“I’m trying not to be. So, go to sleep.”

Izuku’s voice lowered, quivering in tone. “I know you just picked me because I’m the only yokai around, and I’m okay with that. I’m just sorry I’m so weak.”

That was the last straw. Izuku’s self-defeating aura and sadness was oozing out and pissing him off! Even though the alpha within him felt pained, it wasn’t enough to change Katsuki’s mind. He sat up with teeth partially bared and speaking through a gritted tone. “That’s bullshit! I could’ve left the area and found someone else if I’d wanted to! I told you, I picked you because I liked what I saw. Yeah, you ain’t physically strong like me, but you have your own strength, a kind of strength I’d never possess, and if you can’t recognize that, then… Argh! You need to figure shit out! The okami leapt to his feet. “I’m going home! When you’re ready to make a damn decision. You know where to find me!”

“Kacchan!” Izuku cried out as his mate transformed and bounded out of the dwelling, but it was too late. He’d screwed up big time all because he was such a weak fool! How did Katsuki ever see a strength in him? Where was it? Just look at him, he was small, skinny, and always nervous of making a mistake. His mate was right. He couldn’t see whatever it was that Katsuki saw in him.

Izuku curled up into a ball and pulled the blanket over his body as he wept openly. The omegan part of him was in so much pain… it called out for its mate, cried at the loss… oh, it hurt so much! Kami, it felt like someone had ripped his heart right out of his chest and stomped it into the ground. He’d never felt so much pain before and even though physically there was nothing wrong, his entire body was suffering. It ached, every bone, every fiber of his being a wave of numbness and throbbing all mixed together. This must be the bond, Izuku realized. Until now their bond had given nothing but pleasure and now it burned like the hottest fire from the sun.

“Kacchan…” he whimpered into the silent night air. The darkness consumed him inside and out. What to do… what to do… he needed Katsuki to breathe, to live or a broken bond would surely kill him.

He didn’t know at what point he’d fallen asleep, maybe from pure exhaustion, but the next thing Izuku knew he could see light filtering though the blanket. Morning had arrived and with it an absolutely shocking pain, twice the level of anguish as the night before. His mind was reeling, so fogged over from all the turmoil that he could barely move, barely function. “Kacchan!” He screamed out! Ready or not, it couldn’t go on like this. For all his fears and anxieties, the only thing he knew for certain, bond or not, was he needed Katsuki. He loved Katsuki. And so right then and there Izuku knew what he needed to do. It physically hurt to get up, but Izuku did his best to dress himself and stumble into the shrine. All these months he’d hidden any sign of changes. Now it was time to come clean. He couldn’t stay.

The priests were already up and about doing their daily chores like usual. So, while remaining cordial despite his slow, pained movements, Izuku searched for the elder to speak with. Elder priest Toshinori was a kind and caring man, over 80 years old by Izuku’s estimation and had been at this shrine for close to 60 years. Izuku cared a lot about the elder, like a surrogate grandfather figure who was always ready with wise words and guidance for any seeking it out. But he could tell this man’s younger years were hard and laborious. Though thin and aged now, his sinewy tanned skin and worn hands were a testament to a hard upbringing. Izuku often wondered if this is why Toshinori was wiser than many of the others that had passed through these grounds over the centuries. Many priests came from relatively stable but lower-ranking homes who wouldn’t see such a poor upbringing. This man lived and came with experiences to guide his beliefs in a wiser way.

He found the elder in the sanctum reading.

“Mr. Toshinori.”

“Ah, Izuku,” the man looked up from his book. “I was wondering when you might come to me.”

Izuku sat down in front of the man bowing low. “Mr. Toshinori, I don’t know how to say this properly, but I must leave the shrine.”

“I know, and I understand.”

“Wait, how did you know?!” Izuku sat up straight in confusion. “I-I was sure I’d hidden the okami well.”

Toshinori smiled. “For a time, you did, but I sensed changes in you, positive changes. You hid them well, but a sparkle in your eye as you looked at the forest, at times just a pause in your routine as you were deep in thought, smiling to yourself. I knew something was happening to you and I must say it was nice to see you so happy.”

Tears were gathering in Izuku’s eyes at how understanding the priest was being. The internal struggle slowly lessened inside. “I am,” the smile broke free. “He makes me feel so alive, but I’m torn to leave the shrine and everyone here.”

“Young Izuku, it is natural to leave the nest when it is time. This shrine is all you know, and the world can be a very scary place, but it is also part of life to go out into and find your true meaning.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

“In a way,” the man chuckled. “Your kind has served and protected this shrine well for a long time but at the expense of losing your very nature.”

“But I want to continue protecting this shrine! I love this place! I love this forest!”

The man leaned forward with a serious expression. “Izuku, would it be too impossible to achieve from outside of the shrine?”

Izuku quieted in thought for a moment before responding. “No, I suppose not.”

“Then the answer is you can still protect what you love and be with whom you love at the same time.”

“I… I never thought of it that way…” ‘Like how Katsuki had protected the offerings…’ “I can do that!” Izuku bowed again to the priest. “Thank you, Mr. Toshinori! I promise, I’ll still help at the shrine, but I will live in the forest from now on.”

Toshinori placed a hand on Izuku’s bowed head. “I trust you will, young Izuku. And do bring your family around someday, I’d like to meet them before I die.”

Izuku looked up with a blush. “O-Okay, I will!”

The air rushing past his face felt exhilarating in his kitsune form. It had been a while since he’d used the full fox body, but ever since he’d consciously made the decision to go to Katsuki, all the pain relaxed, and he wanted to find his mate as quickly as possible. Izuku couldn’t explain what this newly realized sense of freedom felt like, all he knew is he felt lighter. It might take some time to get used to it after being on such a regimented schedule all his life, but it was simply amazing.

He rushed straight for Katsuki’s den hoping his mate would be there, sending out his scent ahead as a calling card. Oh, how he wanted to just snuggle into the Okami’s thick beautiful fur! ‘Please be there!’ Izuku crooned and whined as the pull of their bond grew stronger and stronger. Katsuki must be close! His body could sense it, feel it as he arrived at the entrance to the cave. “Kacchan!” Izuku called out. Movement up ahead was picked up quickly by the kitsunes sensitivity’s hearing.

Finally, the large form of a wolf stood at the apex of the cavern and tunnel, and the happy tears Izuku had been holding back broke free. It was his mate. Soothing energy flowed out from the okami and wrapped the kitsune in a welcoming embrace.

Izuku whined and pressed forward into the okami’s welcoming embrace. “Kacchan, I’m home!”

#bakudeku #bkdk #bakudeku au #Bakugou katsuki #Midoriya izuku #kitsune midoriya #okami bakugou #alpha/omega #yokai au #katsudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #does contain smut

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jemmahazelnut · 3 years ago

Text

Two broken hearts with matching sides - Chapter 8

Link: AO3

Here you can find Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven.

Like old times

Freed, Laxus, Bickslow and Evergreen entered the apartment and Freed immediately hurried to his room. Before he could lock himself in, however, Laxus put a hand on his shoulder.

“Can we talk for a moment?” he asked. Freed nodded and opened the door waving him inside. Then he locked them both in and sat on the bed. Before he could ask what he wanted to talk about, Laxus anticipated him. “You can’t stand Rufus, do you?” he asked. Freed looked up at him, considering whether to ignore it or be honest. He didn’t want to admit that he was jealous.

“Well, we never got along very well in high school,” he then said. “And I didn’t get to know him better.” Honestly, he wasn’t even interested in getting to know him better.

“Yeah, well, anyway… he’s not that bad,” Laxus said, peering at him. Freed narrowed his gaze. Wasn’t he bad? He would have had a lot to say. Rufus was haughty, presumptuous beyond belief, he thought he was the best just because of his fortune of having an eidetic memory, he shot bullshit just to be told how clever and cultured he was, but the truth was that despite his fucking memory he couldn’t make a reasoning that would take him from A to B.

Of all the things he had in mind Freed said the stupidest.

“I still remember that time he told the professors he saw us playing truant,” he said. Laxus laughed loudly.

“Yeah, I remember. However, he looks like you, I thought you’d get along with him,” he said. Freed looked at him skeptically and honestly very offended.

“That’s the worst insult you can give me,” he said between his teeth and Laxus chuckled slightly. That made Freed even more nervous. “Where would we look alike? Explain yourself” he told him even though he didn’t want to listen.

“Well, you’re both refined, you’ve similar tastes, you like to read and...”.

“Ok, no,” Freed snapped. He didn’t really want to listen. “He’s a fucking conceited, and all night he has been flirting with you and he has also been instigating me to fight, with those fucking questions and those shitty jokes. And we don’t have similar tastes, he doesn’t like to read. He just likes to boast that he’s the best when he clearly feels inferior to everyone because his only ability is to have a memory that he cannot use to make the most elementary reasoning” he blurted out without being able to restrain himself. Laxus looked at him amused.

“You’re jealous,” he said. Freed stiffened.

“No,” he grunted.

“No?” the blond asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No,” Freed repeated. “After all we’re just friends. What should I be jealous of?” he hissed then nervously. Laxus’ smile disappeared and the blond came over and placed a hand on his knee.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry about,” Freed growled.

“Well, I’ve some. I didn’t push Rufus away because I wanted to know if you were really interested in me, and I pushed that too far,” he admitted. Freed looked at him in surprise. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t want to mess things up between us. I just wanted… it was stupid,” he said, shaking his head. “And I wanted to tell him that there was more between the two of us but... I couldn’t have explained exactly what is between us. You’re not just a friend, but… I don’t know how to define us,” he explained. “It’s… I’m sorry, really,” he said genuinely repentant.

“Ok,” Freed said calmer this time. Laxus wasn’t completely wrong, it was difficult to explain to people what was between them. They were trying to recover a friendship and build a relationship. Not even he would know how to define them. “Next time maybe avoid flirting with him in front of me,” he added. Laxus smiled and tightened her grip on his knee.

“Actually, he flirted with me. Anyway, I already told him at the end of the night that I’m dating another guy. Not that there was ever anything between me and Rufus, it was a disengaged relationship, we only dated twice,” he reassured him. Freed nodded feeling better and Laxus smiled. “All right?”.

“Sure,” Freed replied honestly, smiling at him to reassure him.

“Good,” the blond said. “So you’re not angry?”

“No, that’s okay,” Freed said. Laxus nodded and pulled his grip off his knee. He stood up and went to the door, but at the last he turned to him and resumed his arrogant smile.

“You weren’t jealous, huh?” he asked ironically.

“Oh shut up,” Freed snarled and Laxus left the room giggling.

***

Freed and Laxus had passed out of town to Freed’s mother’s house. The woman had wanted to see Laxus, since the blond had spent so many afternoons at their house. Beverly had remembered with them all the damage they had done to her. Such as the time the two had disconnected the car antenna, or the time they broke the microwave, or the time when they had destroyed several flower pots while playing football. They had done quite a few when they were little, but remembering them now was fun.

“And that time you took me home a stray dog? Really, I didn’t know what to do with you two,” Beverly said, leaning back comfortably on the sofa.

“It wasn’t a stray dog,” Freed objected. “And we weren’t doing that much damage.”

“Anyway, it was all Freed’s ideas,” Laxus defended himself with a polite smile as he took another cookie.

“This is not true”.

“Yes, I know that Freed dragged you into his follies, but you weren’t a saint either,” the woman said, giggling. Freed rolled his eyes but smiled. The idea of going to see her with Laxus hadn’t been bad at all. Though he still thought it was more Laxus who drove him to bullshit, rather than the other way around.

“It’s getting late, I think we’re going home,” Freed said glancing at his watch. They had been there for lunch and all afternoon. His mother nodded and got up from the couch. She hugged them both in a hug, leaving them two kisses on the cheeks and then escorting them to the door.

“I’m really happy to see you again, Laxus,” she told the blonde.

“Me too,” he replied and went out into the driveway, passing the gate and reaching the car. Freed started to leave but his mother hugged him again in a hug.

“Mom, we saw three days ago,” he pointed out.

“You’re really cold” she said, loosening her embrace and then smiled broadly. “You know, Laxus has become such a handsome boy.”

“Oh god, no,” Freed said ready to escape.

“I’m serious. He was a beautiful child, and now he’s even better. And then you’ve always been so close”.

“Bye mom,” Freed greeted not wanting to talk about that at the moment.

“Just tell me if there’s something new I need to know,” his mother insisted. Freed hesitated for a moment whether to tell her they were going out, then he thought his mother was too pushy and gossipy and he changed his mind. When it would become serious, he would tell her.

“There’s nothing, we’re friends”.

“Mm... I’m not convinced” commented the woman. “Oh, if you care, I found your old skateboards in the garage.” Freed greeted her for the umpteenth time and joined Laxus near the car.

“What was she telling you?” the blond asked.

“Old skateboards, she found them in the garage,” Freed said. “I didn’t know I still had yours,” he then added. The blond shrugged.

“Anyway I was only going to skate with you” he said “Let’s go and see them?”.

Freed nodded and the two boys walked to the garage. They entered and immediately saw the two skateboards leaning in a corner. They approached and removed the dust from above, gazing at them with two smiles on their faces and a little nostalgia. The color had faded a little, but they were still in good condition.

“Damn, I still remember the afternoon I finished decorating them,” Freed smiled.

“I remember it too, because then I got to the bar first,” Laxus said, turning the black one in his hands.

“You remember badly, I was first,” Freed retorted.

“No, you cheated because you left without warning me” Laxus objected. “So I won.” Freed laughed slightly and put the skateboard on the ground, climbing onto it. “Do you remember how to go?”

“It’s like riding a bicycle, isn’t it? You never forget” the boy replied.

“So, another challenge? Up to the square and then back to Magnolia” Laxus suggested. Freed laughed and nodded, then the two boys left, darting like in the old days to the center of town.

***

Laxus glanced at Freed as the boy chatted with Makarov. In the last few days they had been out a lot and that weekend they had decided to go to his grandfather. Anyway Laxus would go see him and since he had asked him about Freed, he had taken advantage of it.

He was happy to spend some quiet days with his old friend, even though he noticed how their relationship had changed since high school. As much as they got along and as easy as it was to talk to Freed, Laxus knew there were some thorny topics. Like Rufus. Although Laxus felt a certain warmth in his stomach knowing that Freed was jealous, at the same time he feared that talking about him might piss Freed off.

Besides, Laxus had a great desire to take him in his arms and kiss him. Or to get a little closer, share some food or find any excuse to be closer to him. But he was afraid of making mistakes and going too far, as he had done in high school. And the last thing he wanted was to repeat the mistake and screw everything up again.

“Ah, so it was you who let the rabbits escape,” Makarov said suddenly.

“Well, it was an accident,” Freed said.

“You told me it was the neighbor!” exclaimed the old man. “All this time I accused him and I hated him for something he never did,” he blurted out.

Laxus and Freed exchanged a knowing glance, smiling. They still remembered how it had happened, it had actually been an accident. They had crashed into with Makarov’s old moped and opened the cages, and then all rabbits had escaped. They had searched for them for hours trying to bring them home, but they had fled.

“Anyway, the neighbor is unbearable all the same,” Laxus commented.

“I really hope you two got your head right,” Makarov told them. “Are you staying for dinner?” he then asked. Laxus and Freed looked at each other again and understanding each other instantly nodded. “Well, now I’m going to talk to Polyushka for a moment. You see not to do any more damage in the meantime,” he said greeting them and leaving the living room.

“We’re no longer children,” Laxus objected, but as soon as his grandfather was outside, he suggested Freed go upstairs.

So they went up the stairs and into Laxus’ old room. It had changed a lot from years ago. There were no more posters of his favorite bands, and the old stereo was full of dust. On the other hand, all the CDs were still on top of the shelf in order. Freed walked over to the shelf and grabbed one.

“You still keep them,” he observed.

“I’ll never throw them. I don’t care if in a few years no one will listen to more songs on the stereo,” he replied as he approached Freed. He opened his desk drawer and found what he was looking for under some papers. An album that Makarov had made for him and that Laxus hadn’t seen for years. He opened it and Freed approached curious.

“You have... all our photos?” he asked surprised.

“Yeah,” Laxus smiled wistfully as he watched two eleven-year-old boys eating on a blanket lying on the lawn. “At the time I hated that my grandfather took pictures of us,” he commented.

“I remember that,” Freed said, reaching out and turning the page. The gesture brought their hands together and Laxus tried not to dwell on that contact. They both sat on the bed and began to browse together, remembering what they had done together.

There were the photos Freed’s mother had taken of them when they were in Hargeon, on the beach, or at a water park. There were the photos that Makarov had taken of them when they were taking walks in the woods or in the countryside. Photo of the two of them in the snow. There was everything and they were easily lost in memories, laughing together at the funniest ones.

“Sometimes I wish I could go back to those times,” Freed revealed. Laxus looked up at him and smiled.

“Me too,” he admitted. Those times were completely different, they didn’t have the stress of exams, or work, they didn’t have thoughts. They had fun and their relationship was genuine.

Well, more or less, Laxus thought as he moved his gaze to the bed and remembered how they’d made out there once too. They had taken a bottle of their grandfather’s wine and drank it in two, just to have the excuse to kiss and touch. Maybe that was where Freed had made the first one ... he banished the thought before he even finished it, feeling himself flush and looked away. It really wasn’t the time to think about it. Not with Freed nearby.

He glanced at his friend, lingering on his lips and wondered once again if it was too soon. After all, they both admitted they were in love, right? He could close the gap and rejoin their lips. He didn’t ask for much, just a little contact. Laxus was about to place a hand on his friend’s knee when they heard the doorbell ring.

Laxus snorted in annoyance as Freed looked up in surprise.

“Your grandfather?” he asked.

“Probably yes,” Laxus commented, getting up from the mattress and leaving the room to go and open the door.

#fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #freed x laxus #fanfiction

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stardew-vxlley · 5 years ago

Text

petrichor

summary: you and shane are just a couple of good friends, going to the movies together. it’s the middle of autumn and an unsuspecting thunderstorm brews outside, bringing a surprising twist to the friendship.

pairing: shane x farmer

word count: 1573

requested by: @zelandiangelo

warnings: mentions of suicide, swearing

It wasn’t strange for you to ask Shane to the movies. You did it so often, it became a regular thing the two of you did together. Despite the talk of the town, there wasn’t anything hidden beneath it at all. Shane was your closest friend in Pelican Town, everywhere you went, he wasn’t too far behind. And you knew he loved movies. Once the JojaMart closed down and they built the movie theater, Shane wasn’t as concerned about losing his job anymore.

“I hear they’re playing It Howls In The Rain again,” Shane excitedly said as the two of you walked together to the movie theater. “It’s the perfect day for a scary movie.”

You lifted your eyes to the grey clouds forming in the sky and nodded in agreement. “I don’t think it’ll rain though. The forecast this morning said it would be just cloudy.”

“I like the rain,” Shane said, guiding you up to the ticket counter. “Do you have the tickets?”

“Right here,” you said as you pulled them from your pack and slid them across the counter. “Two for It Howls In The Rain, please.”

After you received your ticket stubs, you both entered the warm lobby of the theater. The buttery smell of popcorn permeated the air as the two of you stepped up to the concession stand. You looked over to Shane, who was already eyeing the mini pizzas in the display oven, drool practically dripping all over the tiled floor.

“Two mini pizzas, please,” you asked the woman at the counter. “And a Joja cola, too.”

As she disappeared to prepare your order, you casually leaned against the counter and watched Shane stare hungrily at the hot dogs turning lazily in their rotisserie. When you chuckled in amusement, he looked over at you with a frown.

“What are you laughing at?” he said, leaning next to you. “I wouldn’t stare at them so much if they didn’t make them look so damn delicious.”

“I already ordered you a pizza,” you laughed. “Are you saying you want a hot dog too?”

“I wouldn’t decline,” he said pointedly, earning another laugh from you. It echoed through the empty lobby, until it was interrupted by the concession worker who had returned with your food.

“Here,” you said as you placed one of the pizzas in Shane’s hands. “Eat this, and forget all about the hot dogs.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, his mouth already full. You both walked to the usher waiting by the theater entrance, who showed you to your seats. As the previews played, you saw Abigail and Sebastian filter in and sit a few rows in front of you. You nudged Shane with your elbow, and jerked your chin in their direction, waggling your eyebrows suggestively. Everyone in town knew those two were crazy about each other.

“Took them long enough,” he whispered, and you erupted into giggles. Abigail glanced over the back of her seat, noticed it was you, and waved cheerfully.

You returned the wave, and pressed your lips together to keep from laughing again. The lights in the theater dimmed, and you settled into your seat comfortably. As you munched your pizza, you felt the warmth from Shane’s arm nestled beside your own on its armrest. You wanted to just curl up underneath it and watch the movie like that, but you quickly shoved the idea from your head. No--you couldn’t do that to your friendship. It had been so perfect for so long.

“You okay?” he murmured, leaning over to speak it to your ears only.

“Yeah,” you lied, smiling. “Why?”

“You got that wrinkle in your forehead,” he said, taking another bite of pizza. “You know, the one you get whenever you’re thinking too hard about something.”

You stared at him, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. A lock of his hair fell into his eyes, and you resisted the urge to reach up and move it back for him, wondering how soft it felt underneath your fingertips.

“Oh, it’s starting!” Shane whispered excitedly, and the movie reel began to start.

But you could barely focus on the images flashing across the screen, even after you turned your attention away from his beautifully curious eyes, the stubble on his cheeks that made him look rugged and handsome, or his biceps that flexed underneath the sleeves of his hoodie every time he shifted in his seat.

“Are you even watching?” his hushed voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you immediately blushed in embarrassment. God, if he only knew what kind of things you had just been thinking about him.

“We’ve seen it already,” you whispered back, trying to focus on literally anything other than the way his cologne was clouding your better judgement--you were unable to run away from the thoughts running rampant in your mind. The movie ended and the lights turned back on. You watched Sebastian help Abigail to her feet, keeping his hand tightly wrapped around hers.

You and Shane began walking out of the theater. You were barely hanging on to what Shane was saying about the movie as the two of you passed through the lobby and out into the chilly autumn air.

“Are you sure it won’t rain?” he asked, looking up at the clouds.

You shrugged. “The forecast said it wouldn’t, and they’re usually not wrong.”

“Hm,” he hummed in agreement.

It wasn’t until you reached the edge of town when you felt the first fat droplet of rain hit your cheeks, causing you to look up at the sky in surprise. Another one pelted your forehead, and then another, and another--until the downpour was so relentless that it turned the whole world grey. Shane laughed and took your hand, pulling the already soaking wet hood of his sweatshirt up over his head.

“No rain, huh?” he yelled over the storm as the two of you ran through town and towards Cindersap Forest.

“Hey, I’m not a licensed meteorologist!” you shouted back, trying to shield your eyes from the rain.

His laughter filled your veins with sunlight, despite the heavy downpour. He pulled you underneath a large oak tree, its red and orange leaves protecting you both from the storm. Reaching up and yanking back his hood, his dark violet hair hung in wet curls around his flushed face, an amused grin stretching from one ear to the other.

“What are you smiling at?” you asked, hating the feeling of your soaked clothes against your skin. A violent shiver escaped you as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to get warm. “Why can’t we just go into the ranch house?”

“Isn’t the storm beautiful?” he asked, standing at the edge of the tree. “Destructive, but so beautiful. Kind of like people.”

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, dropping your arms and standing beside him. The last time you were caught in the rain with him, he had been contemplating suicide at the edge of the cliff not far from where you stood now.

“For someone who’s destroyed so much,” he murmured, watching the rain fall, “I think I’ve done a pretty good job building something with you.”

It sounded like he was talking mostly to himself, and you were just there to listen. Slowly, but with no hesitation, you slipped your hand into his, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. He sighed with relief and content, squeezing your fingers back.

“We’ve come a long way,” you said quietly, and he chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said, turning to face you. He didn’t let go of your hand. “We have.”

You watched a raindrop slide down the side of his cheek and disappear beneath the collar of his shirt, but his eyes remained on you.

“What?” you asked him, feeling your pulse quicken.

“Fuck it,” Shane said, “I don’t care anymore.”

“Fuck what--?” you managed to get out, but suddenly his hands were cradling your cheeks so softly and tenderly, his lips moving closer and closer--

And he was kissing you. In the middle of the rain, underneath a dripping oak tree. And it felt right. Electricity was shooting up and down your spine, making you feel as if you could just lift off of the forest floor and begin floating upwards towards the clouds.

Your arms snaked up to wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss. His hands slid down from your cheeks to encircle around your waist, his fingers splayed out across your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. His mouth was incredibly soft, tasting of rain and love and desire. You were pressed so tightly against him that you were curved with his body, each of you trying to get even closer to the other.

All too soon, he broke away with a heavy breath of excitement. He still held you close to him, but leaned back just enough so he could look at you in his arms, eyes alight with happiness. He sighed in satisfaction before gently tucking your head beneath his chin and wrapping his arms around you. The rain subsided to a slow, gentle drizzle, but the two of you stayed locked in each other’s embrace, swaying to music only you could hear, knowing that everything had just changed on a drastic scale...but everything would be alright.

Because you had him. And he had you.

So in that moment it was just you, Shane, and the rain.

#shane #shane stardew valley #shane stardew #shane x farmer #always shane #stardew valley #stardew valley edit #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic #sdv #shane sdv fanfic #sdv shane #sdv shane edit

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

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Something that really bugged me with E11, in regards to the revelation "oh holy shit Salem's coming in person with an army of Grimm to fucking obliterate Atlas and Mantle" and Ruby's naïve little speech about how "you can't be killed but you can still fail and be stopped." Like, does Ruby realize that in both instances where Salem "failed" – the incomplete destruction of Vale, and the defeat at Mistral – it wasn't Salem who was personally defeated? It was her subordinates. [1/10]

Yeah ranting! And such organized ranting too (I appreciate the numbering for me to get screenshots in order lol). Response below the cut!

Literally all of this though.

Very glad the group is realizing that “defeating” Salem doesn’t necessarily mean killing her but, as said in my recap, wouldn’t it have been great if we could have seen that major revelation happening on screen?

Meanwhile, the problem with chucking that revelation into this particular conversation is that (I’m a broken record here) these are two VERY DIFFERENT contexts. Ozpin’s “Holding her off is how we win” is in reference to the entirety of humanity across generations of time. RWBY’s “Holding you off is how we win” is in reference to one specific battle... which, as you say, presumably has Salem herself joining in. The reason why Ozpin’s stance has worked up until now is because all of Salem’s tools are defeatable even if she herself is not. You can capture/kill her subordinates. You can take the Maiden powers. You can hide a relic. You cannot, however, kill or capture or stop Salem herself. Not yet anyway. Because no one besides Ironwood has bothered to try and think up a way how. So Ruby is taking a broadly fantastic perspective and applying it to the ONE scenario where it doesn’t work. The second she heard Salem herself is (again, presumably) coming she should have seen the wisdom in at least considering Ironwood’s stance. Because you can’t win this battle. Based on the current information that is not a debatable claim, it’s straight up fact. Even if you capture Cinder and manage to kill every single one of Salem’s grimm---which is a hugely big “if”---you straight up cannot defeat Salem herself. She reminded them right in the office: time is on my side. She can stride into Mantle and just take out everyone at her leisure. You manage to obliterate her somehow? Give her five seconds and she’ll reform. Manage to hold her off for hours, days, even weeks? What does that matter to her? She is, as of right now, literally an unstoppable force so until the characters get any evidence that she’s bluffing about showing up the stance of, “We have to try!” is just straight up stupidity. You will die. Everyone else will die too. That’s just a given at this point in the series.

Sorry I’m just really hung up on this lol. Don’t get me wrong I LOVE an underdog story, but this is so much more than that. This is the group looking at a literal immortal sorceress with a giant grimm army, coming to attack while they’re all exhausted and Ruby hasn’t managed to get her eyes to work twice now in as many hours. How exactly do they expect to achieve any outcome except for death? Which, to be clear, can also be a compelling setup. That’s 300′s story: death is inevitable so we’ll face it head on and go down fighting. But RWBY’s story isn’t complete yet. This isn’t the final hour where Salem wins, but we at least get to see the heroes give as good as they get before she does. So having your characters insist that there’s another way out of this---and then inevitably writing a horrendously convenient plot that illogically caters to that---is beyond frustrating. If they wanted a story where Ironwood truly abandons Mantle and is criticized for not doing everything he could, then they needed to not tell the characters that Salem herself is coming. Because that changes things from, “Ironwood isn’t willing to fight the hard fight to save others” to “Ironwood is the only one admitting that they are undeniably screwed, so get whoever you can out of dodge.”

Willfully ignorant is really the right way to put it. Not just on Ruby’s part but the story’s too. RT ignores their own setups and then expects the audience to take that illogical change at face value. If you give me a villain who is that over powered, make her literally immortal, have an entire volume of the group freaking out over how impossible beating her is... don’t be surprised when that carries over just a few episodes later. You don’t get to build Salem up as an unbeatable threat and then turn around and have the heroes insist that she’s not actually unbeatable. You just have to try hard and never back down! Which, again, good mindset for this whole war, horrific mindset for a single battle where you’re risking an entire kingdom in the process. Yeah, they could have compromised. They could have immediately left to evacuate as much of Mantle as possible while Ironwood prepared (and then the story could do something to ensure that ultimately no one was actually abandoned if they want). But digging in their heels like this? I get that it’s the “right” thing to do, but as Pyrrha showed without a doubt, sometimes the “right” thing leads only to death. Which is fine when it’s just your own life on the line, but Team RWBY isn’t offering themselves up as sacrifices. They’re demanding that Ironwood offer everyone up as that sacrifice. They’re asking for an act of faith that is not only 100% illogical based on their knowledge of the situation, but something they haven’t even begun to earn from him yet. “Trust us to keep your kingdom safe from the literal immortal even though you couldn’t even trust us to share her immortality in the first place. Or keep one of your secrets. Or tell you about those choices until you’d backed us into a corner.” RWBYJNR hasn’t done a single thing this volume to earn Ironwood’s trust, so slamming in here with a, “Trust us to do the impossible” is wholly unearned. Which is sad because in a better written show I might have been able to get behind something like that. There are some heroes you have so much faith in that logic doesn’t even come into play. I know it’s “impossible” but I just have that level of trust that they’ll actually find a way.

Team RWBY hasn’t earned that level of trust yet. Not from the viewer and definitely not from Ironwood.

(As for the Salem question... literally just because it’s a story. If they had her act on her desires with her full power there would be zero hope for the heroes and then the story ends. But you’re right, rather than just announcing that Salem randomly prefers to stay on the sidelines, we should have gotten some reason for why that is. What’s our villain’s motivation? Why bother hanging back in a castle? Give us a reason for this very convenient setup and tell us more about Salem at the same time. Remember, her own actions don’t have to be entirely logical, they just have to be known by the audience. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, it’s a preferred headcanon of mine that Salem doesn’t attack because she doesn’t truly want to win. She doesn’t want to revert to a destroyed Remnant where she’s the only living thing again. But that’s still just a headcanon. The story itself hasn’t done any work to explain that glaring issue of, “If Salem is so powerful... why in the world hasn’t she just kicked everyone’s ass yet?”)

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #mymetas #silvokrent

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years ago

Text

Joy

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Thirty

Read on AO3

Working in a year-round Christmas shop you’d assume Clary’s least favorite month was December. The last four shopping weeks of the holiday season a particular sort of hell. Which is true they are a specific circle of hell that she’s sure is used as a torture device down below, but July is so much worse.

Clary’s not sure who came up with the Christmas in July trend, but she’d like to find them and if they’re not already dead kill them. December she gets, even if it’s exhausting, peace on earth and all that jazz, but July is nothing. July is a hot, sticky, sweaty mess that forces her to hear Joy to the World play every time someone comes through the door five months earlier than anyone should have to suffer through that track.

They’ve barely been open two hours and at least two dozen customers have come through door, a waking nightmare for her.

“Smile little elf!” her boss says passing by as the door opens once again. Clary puts on a fake smile tugging at the elf costume she has to wear five days a week, one day she’s going to convince her boss to either drop the costume entirely or at least let her wear a summer vacation version of it when it’s eighty plus degrees outside.

“JOY TO THE WORLD!” The door sounds again the chorus of voices that haunt Clary’s dreams loudly announcing the arrival of another customer. Clary’s amps her fake smile up a few notches holding back the desire to break the door off its hinges. She looks up ready to greet another sorry bastard celebrating Christmas in July and freezes.

There’s a strong chance that the prettiest girl in the entire world just walked into their shitty little store. Her fake smile drops into a real one as the woman smiles back at her immediately turning and heading for the ornaments section. Clary, trying not to be creepy, watches her go looking at the strong line of her arms, the bounce of her hair and her long bare legs because everyone except for Clary gets to wear shorts right now.

Eventually she’s out of sight and Clary for the first time in the two years she’s been working there actively decides to go help a customer without being asked. She ducks down checking her reflection in the candy cane framed mirror by the cash register. She moves her bangs around, runs fingers under her eyes to catch any melted eye liner and adjusts the pointy green and red hat on her head. She shrugs at her image; she looks as good as someone in a dorky elf costume on 93-degree weather day in July can.

She heads back following the line of reindeer that lead to the vast wall of ornaments and finds the pretty girl scanning the entire wall looking a little overwhelmed. She can’t blame her, they have somewhere in the ballpark of 250 different ornament styles any given day.

She clears her throat, the girl spinning around with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Clary, can I help you find something specific today?” she says putting a little less fake customer service kindness into her voice than she usually would.

“Maia,” the pretty girl says then turns back to the wall. “And yes, I could definitely use some help.”

Clary steps forward standing beside her and gesturing at the wall.

“Well, first things first, is the ornament a gift or for your own collection?” Clary asks. She hopes the answer is gift. If it’s a gift there’s a chance Maia is pretty and doesn’t actually celebrate Christmas in July, if it’s for her well Clary might just be devastated that someone so pretty believes in such a dumb, fake holiday.

“Gift technically,” Maia says making a sort of hand motion. Clary raises a fist in the air in victory in her mind. “A friend is having a big Christmas in July bash and everyone’s supposed to bring an ornament to decorate this tree they bought. It’s kind of dumb, but they’re one of my best friends so I’m playing along.”

Clary practically cries, this girl isn’t just pretty she also thinks Christmas in July is stupid. Clary might have found her dream girl.

“Don’t tell my boss, but I agree that it’s kinda dumb,” she stage whispers which makes Maia giggle.

“Are you legally allowed to say that working here?” she smirks.

Clary just shrugs an innocent little smile on her lips as she pulls her fingers across them in a faux zipping motion. Maia chuckles again.

“It’s a miracle I found this place,” she says running her fingers over a line of varying colored unicorn ornaments. “Even online the ornament stock this time of the year is pretty scarce.”

“Yeah, we’re a godsend,” Clary says without enthusiasm as the door opens and Joy to the World sounds again. “How about I help you narrow this down.” She smiles pulling over the wheeling ladder they use to reach the higher ornaments.

All told it only takes about ten minutes for Maia to pick out an ornament she finds suitable, ultimately going for humor over holiday and settling on a rainbow colored poop emoji.

Clary walks her up to the front and flinches when the door opens twice in quick succession as she’s cashing Maia out.

“Not a fan of the doorbell?” she asks taking her change form Clary.

“It’s all well and good the first five times you hear it, but it grates after a while and you lose the meaning of joy,” Clary explains handing Maia her receipt.

“I get that, the bar I work at on weekends has a jukebox that only plays two songs,” Maia says leaning against the counter. “I’ve reached a point in my life now where if I hear Highway to Hell or Funky Town in any setting outside of work I’m pretty sure I’ll just burst into tears.”

Clary laughs, knowing the feeling. Maia’s eyes crinkle at the side in happiness.

“If I came back here tomorrow with some friends who are also being dragged to this party, would you be working?” she asks giving Clary a poignant once over.

Clary shakes her head and bites her lip, knowing exactly what she’s doing.

“I don’t work on Wednesdays, you’d get Lydia instead,” she says.

“Well, I’m sure Lydia is lovely, but I guess I’ll come in on Thursday then,” Maia says with a smile, the door opens and for the first time all month Clary doesn’t even notice the damn song playing.

“You look cute in your elf costume by the way,” Maia says with a small wave over her shoulder as she heads for the door. Clary just beams at her, personally she thinks she looks insane in her elf costume, but if Maia thinks it’s cute she’ll wear it with pride. “See you Thursday!”

“I look forward to it!” Clary shouts after her and when Joy to the World plays as she opens the door to go Clary thinks the song might just be growing on her finally.

#my fic #writersmonth2020 #claia #clary fray #maia roberts #shadowhunters

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whiskeyworen · 5 years ago

Text

Kaleb & Miriya: The Sword

"I never expected you to be someone who'd be into collections, Kaleb." Miriya admitted, looking around wide-eyed at the vaulted chambers. "I mean I knew you were an enthusiast, but..."

The team had been sent to the Priory to retrieve some obscure dwarven tome relating to the location of the new advance operating base in the Elon Highlands, and they had taken the opportunity to relax. While the Priory wasn't exactly the friendliest to those outside of their order, they did at least welcome their visitors and provide them room. Those that weren't Priory just wouldn't be permitted into the classified sections. What no one outside the organization knew was that the Priory was constantly expanding its underground warehouses and galleries, burrowing them into the living rock of the mountain. Thanks to the geological knowledge and experience given to them by Ogden Stonehealer, those ever-expanding chambers were perfectly sound and structurally strong; nothing short of the mountain collapsing would damage or disrupt them. So when Kaleb showed everyone to the guest chambers, and then offered to show Miriya his collections, there was know way she could have known that he meant extensive collection. Enough to fill a small museum. There were entire city armouries smaller than the gallery chamber he'd filled with gear and weapons. Each one was mounted carefully and properly, with a small tag full of information about the item. Miriya walked along the aisle of daggers, browsing the sheer variety on display. Most were suspended between twin iron pegs, held up by their quillons, but there were quite a few exotic designs that either lacked those components, or simply would not be suspended in the same way. Like the Charr steam dagger held up by a bolt screwed through the fuller of the blade. Or the two kinds of Sylvari daggers that sat blade-down in two small pots of soil with little sunlamps aimed at them.

She was just about to ask how he kept them watered when he was out, when a golemite wobbled up with a watering can, blooping an 'excuse--me' before watering the plant weapons properly. Miriya watched, amused, as the golemite put the watering jug near a sink on the far side of the room, before parking itself into a recharge unit on the floor and deactivating. Guess it's on a timer or something? She presumed.

"Yeah, I know. It's kinda cliche." Kaleb shrugged, levering his Magmaton hammer onto a stone table where its natural heat wouldn't cause damage. He rolled his shoulders now that he was free of the weight, and smiled. "I mean, a Warrior who has a collection of weapons. Pretty sure everyone knows someone like that."

"Maybe, but you got quite the collection." Miriya replied, running a finger around the curve of a Norn focus, flicking the feathers with her finger playfully. "I mean, you even have weapons types I've never seen you use. Can you use these?" He walked up beside her, noting where she was looking. Some Focii were on display, but others were in glass cases lining the wall. The ones that were more... unique. Like the focus made out of a skull of some poor bastard. "Nah, I can't use'm. Focii, Scepters, Staves... I can't use'm. But my collection wouldn't be complete without them." He waved a hand at some of the Asura-tech staves, as well as an Aureate spear or two. "I mean, just look at them. Asura tech is so simple, yet high-tech. Your people make the best weapons." "Ah, maybe you're right." Miriya lied, ego clearly stroked. She crossed her arms, striking a proud pose, grinning. "It's hard to be so awesome." She was immediately forced to duck when he playfully flicked one of her dreadlocks, the movement loosening her headband slightly. "Ow!" "You are awesome, Miriya." Kaleb laughed. "But Charr weapons are just as cool you know."

She stuck her tongue out at him while she pulled her mussed locks behind her headband again, tightening the band. He kept laughing while she grumbled obscenities at him. Finally he tired of laughing and shook his head. "Okay, I'm going to get changed. Feel free to explore my collection. Maybe there's some stuff you haven't seen before?" "Doubtful." Miriya declared confidently. Kaleb just shook his head and headed off to a side room between the weapon racks, shutting the door behind him.

It only took her a minute, but soon she was wandering deep in the racks of greatswords, admiring the workmanship of zweihanders and buster blades, and marvelling at the size of a human-scaled Asura greatsword. It was twice her own height!

"Jeez, even Sis would have trouble lifting that." She muttered to herself, running her hand down the flat of the blade. The greatsword was big enough that her oldest sister, Sonnya, would have been dragging it on the floor. The fact that Kaleb could lift a monster like that was something else entirely.

With her hand on the blade, she could feel not just the sword, but the essence within the blade. The essence bestowed on it, intrinsically, by its creator, the smithy. Every creator left a mark on their creations. Those who were attuned to things like life and death, like Miriya and her necromantic ilk, could read those impressions. It was kind of like a kind of conjuring, or spirit-connnection.

Every weapon a Necromancer used, they had to be attuned to. To know the nature of their weapon, its uses, its own desires. An axe wanted to carve, whether it was wood, metal, flesh, bone... it enthusiastically wanted to go to work. Most of the time, it was a pleasant, invigorating sensation. To know your weapon wanted to help you. An axe was not picky about what it was used on; it merely wanted to be used.

A Dagger would whisper sneaky things to a user, like where to aim its blade. Or what kind of venom it liked on its edge. In the hands of a necromancer, a dagger would realize how it could carve into the realm of Death itself to call forth ghostly locusts. A true delight to a veteran dagger was being able to strike at a distance, to make a target or group of targets weak with sickness, to make it easier for its blade to cut.

There were weapons that Miriya had never used before though, that gave her alien sensations. Pistols felt very direct, with not much 'thought'. Rifles were deadly serious, but also as direct as their smaller kin.

She'd never used a Greatsword though. To be honest, she'd never even held one to find out what it 'said' to her. What its intrinsic spirit was. Touching this Asuran greatsword though, she could feel a sense of massive pride, a chest-filling confidence. The sense of power. It was...interesting. It still wanted to carve things up with its blade, but it was a proud thing, only wishing to be of use to its owner.

It actually made her smile. If she knew how, she'd gladly use something as welcoming and heroic as this sword. The synergy between it and her would be great.

But that's when she heard another whisper. Not one from the greatsword she was touching. If anything, the one she had her hand on suddenly quieted, as if it were a child hearing the monster under the bed.

No... the whisper she felt was coming from around the corner, in the back of the room. In a different display case.

It was wordless. To give it a name would be to call it a hiss. A subtle, but pervasive hiss of... something. Curious, Miriya slowly stepped around the case, her Demon's Gaze mask unfolding on her face. With eyes that could see the hidden aspect of life near her, she saw a trace of something.

It was the shadow of Death energy. A wisp, one of many, leaking through the room from somewhere near the back. A tendril of it swirled past her leg, stroking up to her hand before recoiling and slipping away as if it had never existed.

"What. In. Tyria." She breathed, turning the corner after the wisp, before she saw it.

It was a greatsword. A straight, blackened blade with a diamond tip, stood in its stand before her. It had a long, double-handed hilt done in some form of banded leather, with a stained horned skull for a pommel. The guard had savagely hooked ends, and there was another long, bronze or gold skull or helmet on either face of the blade, the horns travelling fully half way down the length of the blade itself.

And it was practically dripping Death essence. It was fascinating to look at. Miriya found herself staring in awe, reaching out one hand to touch the forehead of the skull on the blade. As her fingers gently brushed the gold, she felt something reach back.

If the sunken, blackened eye sockets in the blade could have held eyes, they would have snapped open at that moment.

Miriya's head snapped back, her mouth agape and eyes wide and blank, as a host of incredibly vicious, violent thoughts spilled forth from the blade.

...CaRVe tHeM uP! SkuLLs and GoRE! The BloOd MuSt FLOW! RenD THeir SOULS! REAP and LET NONE STAND BEFORE YOU! BeaR ME and Let the SLAUGHTER beGin! SouLs for the THRONE! Necromancer-bear-me-and-see-your-enemies-FALL! NONE sHall SurVivE!...

Miriya gasped, trying to pull her hand away from this sword. This tainted, tainted thing. The images it sent her nearly made her vomit. It was like looking into Torment itself. She gagged on the sensations of smell it sent her; blood and gore, severed limbs and heads on spikes. The swing of the executioner's blade, the reaper's sickle. The sickening chunk of metal through bone. She was no novice to combat, but... this was being caught in an avalanche of hellish imagery.

It was all too much; she pushed back as best she could, but this spirit in the blade was too strong. Too focused. Too dedicated to its craft. It had a grip on her, and if she didn't break away soon, she knew, somewhere deep inside, that it would overwhelm her. Who in Tyria forged this thing?! She wailed in her mind as she tried to pull away.

"Oh hey, there you are." Kaleb said pleasantly, stepping around her and picking the sword up, breaking its contact with her. He didn't have his armor anymore, instead having chosen to wear some more casual clothes. Miriya stumbled back, breathing heavily and sweating profusely now that she was free of the sword's touch. Her hand actually stung like it was on fire from where it had rested on the blade.

She cradled that hand as the pain faded, staring up at him in mute horror as he gave the sword a cursory glance, turning it this way and that, before giving it a spin. She could still see the tendrils of Death reaching out, but now they tried to curl around him, swirling around his bare arms. "I see you found this thing. Neat, isn't it?"

"K-...Kaleb... What?..." She mumbled, stumbling back another step. "What in the Alchemy is that thing??"

He gave her a raised eyebrow, noting her expression curiously. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. Or worse. "What, this thing?" Kaleb held the blade up, running his hand along it, and over the golden skull. "I forget where I picked this thing up. Pretty sure it was some random trader, or something. Or someone gave it to me as a reward for something when I was still a merc."

Kaleb shrugged. "I used it for a while, but now it's more of just a big paperweight. Got much better weapons these days."

Miriya winced as she 'felt' the blade's insane rage at such a dismissal. It practically screamed loud enough that she could hear it without touching it. "That... that sword. It's..."

"I looked it up once in the library." He continued musingly. He gave the blade another stroke with his hand before putting it back in its mounting hooks. "Book said it was something called a 'Dhuumseal'. A sword made by Grenth himself when he sealed Dhuum away."

Miriya winced as the blade hissed again, this time at the mention of Grenth.

Kaleb just laughed though. "I doubt it's the real thing though. It's probably just a mock-up based on the same drawing I saw in the history book. Good enough sword, but definitely not a God-forged thing."

He turned and walked away, patting her on the head as he passed. "I was thinking of getting it reforged into a better weapon. Come on, let's go get some grub in the cafeteria. I hear the cook's got roast griffon today."

The Asuran necromancer was slow to follow him. Instead, she stared at that sword, which seemed to glare back at her with impotent rage. "Uh yeah -- I'll be right there."

It was another minute before she backed away around the corner, her eyes still locked on the blackened blade. There was no doubt in her mind that it was the Dhuumseal. How Kaleb had gotten his hands on it didn't matter; the fact that it had no influence on him just confused her -- and the sword.

She left the room with Kaleb as fast as she could. Privately, she made a promise that she'd never carry a Greatsword, should there be a way for Necromancers to learn how to use them like every other weapon. Not after encountering that one.

There was no way for her to know, but she had just gotten her first taste of Reaper powers -- and the bloodthirsty, ice-blooded madness that every Reaper necromancer would have to work to restrain.

Because Dhuumseal was just one sword....but there were many Greatswords out there. Many of them... that had the same kind of spirit.

#gw2 fanfiction #tyriaslibrary #My characters #my stories #miriya danae #kaleb fenoir #Asura Necromancer #Human Warrior #Durmand Priory #Dhuumseal #greatsword #Necromancer Reaper

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b-kitsune · 6 years ago

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Many ways to say I love you: Day One

Kidge-a-palooza 2019 Day One: Fickle Pairing: Kidge (VLD) Universe: Canon (Season 1) Status: Part 1/7

Pidge was used to finding the right answer to all her problems with the use of logic to her benefit.

When she was a little girl, having friends was something that always was difficult from her, she wasn't good at reading the environment and her sharp tongue inherited from her mother didn't help any moment. So, they always turned their backs on her when Pidge tried to be a little more sociable. One day, bored with jokes and bad treatment, she decided that it wasn't for her. Having her family and Bae Bae to keep her company was enough, building walls towards the rest of the world.

When she began to grow up, she didn't feel comfortable with the new curvature of her body, her dresses accentuated her waist and Pidge felt strangely uncomfortable with the use of a bra, so she decided to use jackets twice her size and cover her growth. Nobody noticed the difference; their development was slow anyway.

This was how all her problems were easily dismissed or, if it was possible, left aside. And if this weren't the case, Pidge took the reins of the situation without considering the consequences. It was like this when she infiltrated a government property, passed herself off as a boy and ended up in a lion of 10,000 years old alien technology.

Even then after all the catastrophes in recent months, she felt calm, everything was solvable with a few minutes of thorough analysis. And entering Voltron had helped her to generate flexibility that on earth she hadn't achieved through the traditional ways, Pidge was stubborn after all. And being right almost always worked in her favor.

But at that moment, while working in the green lion's hangar isolated from others coding the recent files of the Galra fleet, even for months of studying the situation carefully within all the possible variables, she couldn't find the correct answer to the fickle attitude of Keith Kogane.

When she met him in the rescue of Shiro in a turn of coincident events, Pidge immediately recognized the bad character made a person. Place she thought that she had naively earned it.

If Pidge had trouble relating to the rest and isolating himself from the world at the slightest problem, Keith far surpassed her. Many times, she saw herself recriminating him for attitudes that even to her seemed extremist, seeing the irony of who came to the comment. However, they understood each other quite well without talking too much, like Lance and Hunk, Pidge could understand where his bad temper often came from and did her best to help him overcome it.

There were situations that even Shiro had sent directly to talk to Keith as soon as there was friction in the team. And she was proud to have a unique space with her arm mate in which none of the other members, including Shiro, was welcome.

Or so she thought.

''Pidge, there you are!'' Allura entered the hangar with an enviable spirit, Pidge didn't even look up. ''Coran and I have scheduled training for all the paladins today, I need you to be in the training room in half varga.''

''I'm busy here.''

''But it's-''

''This is also important.'' Pidge interrupted her before she insisted.

''All right. I will not try to convince you.'' Allura returned to the exit, leaving Pidge somewhat confused by her complacent attitude. ''In ten ticks, I will deactivate the electricity of the hangar, I hope you aren't afraid of the darkness.''

''Are you serious?'' But when she looked up, only saw the determination on her face, the panic growing inside her when saw her count in reverse. ''Ok, ok, I'm going to get dressed, don't lock me in here!''

''I'm glad you understand!'' Allura patted her back once she ran to the door, closing the hangar until the end of the training. Pidge groaned disappointedly. ''Part of the paladins' job is to keep a constant training of physical activity and strengthening of the link even if they aren't in battle, to keep the body in shape. I expected no less from the green lion's paladin.''

''You threatened me.''

She objected dryly, but Allura ignored her when they both walked inside the castle.

She least wanted was to participate in the castle exercises, much less deal with Keith in the process.

During the last weeks, his attitude had changed strangely towards her, leaving her completely conflicted. It wasn't as if Keith had the same attitude every day, but Pidge had felt strangely uncomfortable with him.

He could converse peacefully with her during breakfast, annoy Lance together, help her with updates on the red lion, and discuss her interests as if they had been close friends for a long time in her room, in a unique and unparalleled closeness in which even she felt his breathing close enough to hit her in the face, often feeling that her heart would come out at any moment. The next day, she could be lucky if he greeted her or looked at her in the corridors. Many times in that order, other times he could spend days when he didn't even address a single word.

Sometimes Keith seemed really worried about her health during the training sessions, coming to give her deep hugs when nobody else looked them, she felt protected and taken care of by those moments where only the two existed. And other days, he could leave her alone to the point of being shot because of him.

There were moments when he stopped her in the corridors to try to say something important, but he only kept his mouth open and returned as quickly as he arrived. Then he commented that he only needed help on anything and had already solved it without problems.

Lately, she didn't understand what he wanted, sometimes he seemed to adore her, and at the second was a complete stranger. When she faced it, it didn't work at all, since he left her alone, alluding that she was only imagining things.

So Pidge decided that he simply had to ignore it.

''Pidge, you finally came!'' She approached Shiro quickly when he greeted her, being the last to appear. ''Now that we're all ready, can start this training.''

'' What will it be this time?'' Lance asked interested while stretching. ''A 2vs3? Race of lions? Battle of gunfire? Or will we have to sit in a circle and tell our secrets?''

''Actually, it's a shooting battle.'' Everyone looked at Shiro surprised at the simplicity of the training.

''How boring''. Pidge commented loudly. Taking a light laugh at the black paladin.

''Oh believe me Pidge, you'll enjoy it.''

...

The exercise was simple with rules similar to a traditional terrestrial MOBA, defeating the central points by going to any of the five roads, in which at the end of this, they would take control of the central command. They could recharge, change and stop whenever they wanted as long as they didn't shoot at themselves. Only, this time, it was the four versus Shiro, in a simulation with night vision, without special binoculars, and they were at a clear disadvantage.

The worst thing was that they had been classified by armament pairs, so Pidge was obliged to deal with Keith throughout the training.

As soon as they found one of the points, they shot it quickly to deactivate it.

''I haven't listened to Hunk for several minutes.'' Keith approached her side to avoid being attacked by the attack bots. But Pidge just grunted unguarded. ''Do you think they will be fine on the other side?''

''I don't know.'' He could see the bewilderment on her face when it was illuminated by a slight explosion.

''Are you angry?''

''No!''

Before being shot, Pidge pushed him behind some boxes they used as shields during the simulation. The noise suggested a group of more than five bots around them. For those who covered their backs to shoot them before being injured and eliminated.

They advanced for many minutes as they evaded and eliminated, but Pidge stumbled over an object and Keith quickly took it to place it on his shoulder, beginning to run to lose sight of them.

With the last reload of his weapon, he was able to annihilate the last one before being caught, feeling the overload on his body. Pidge was complaining about the pain in her foot, surely she had folded it as soon as she fell. Both couldn't follow the path, nor did they have ammunition to defend themselves, it was a matter of time for them to lose against the system.

Keith approached her to lightly touch her damaged foot.

''Are you okay?''

''Yeah ... '' It was barely a whisper. Keith sat beside her when he listened to the gunfire around him. And without avoiding it, he asked.

''Hey ... Is there something I did that bothered you?''

''What?'' Pidge was confused with his question, so Keith preferred to explain himself correctly.

''We were pretty good in the last time, and the next day, you started avoiding me like I had the plague. I don't want you to feel obligated to tell me something you don't want, but, I was happy, you know? You were the first friend I've had after Shiro, and I would feel bad knowing that maybe I did something that bothered you.''

''I thought I had done something to annoy you, Keith.'' Keith turned his head off, listening to her. ''Sometimes you talked to me, and the next second you started to ignore me, then you were days without talking to me and from one moment to another you acted as if nothing happens-

Pidge didn't calculate the exact moment when it happened, but from one second to the next she was strongly pressed to the wall, lips pressing on her and the light shots of the simulation around them as the only memory of reality.

It wasn't exactly sweet or soft, he savored her with fury, with a need incarnate of his own primitive desire. Pidge didn't know how to react, she wanted to take him away for mere instinct to be attacked so wildly, but it was that same feeling that was taking him to take the lapels of his uniform and push him closer to her, causing her hips hit each other.

It was the first time she was kissed by someone. It was the first time she felt a fire rising beneath her stomach as soon as his lips parted to give way to her tongue, tasting her painfully. Keith was relentless, demanding, leaving her with no air and caressing every contour inside her mouth. His hands trembled as approached her waist, letting Pidge know that all the strength he used before was the product of recent nerves.

Was being his first time too?

She could push him away, accept him and answer the kiss, do all that or just get carried away for the moment. But at any moment the illumination was turned on in lights of medium intensity giving when the simulation finished. Pidge and Keith walked away fearfully as if they had been aware of what had happened at that moment, and without another word, got up to go to the exit.

Pidge leaned on Keith's shoulder because of her ankle. There, Shiro, Coran, and Allura waited for them with a big smile.

''Congratulations, you two were closest to the victory, Lance and Hunk are still looking for the exit.'' Allura replied with happiness, both nodded defeated.

''Are you hurt Pidge?'' Shiro asked worriedly.

''I just bent my ankle during training.''

''At least it's not something serious, you have to be careful next time. Keith, can you take her to the infirmary?''

''Oh, yeah.''

They both went to the exit as soon as they heard the screams of Lance rumble on the walls about the difficulty of the exercise. When they walked a couple of meters away from the training room. Pidge approached Keith's face gently, to brush his lips in a delicate movement. Keith looked embarrassed.

''I'm sorry I lost control there, if you don't want to continue, I'll understand ...''

''Kiss me, Keith.'' She cut him, and Keith smiled relieved at his response, kissing her, over and over again being careful not to move on to take his injured foot.

''I wanted to do this for so long.''

''Is that why you were being so strange?'' Pidge could see the shame build up Keith's face with force, nodding nervously. ''Oh my god, you're so emo.''

''And you're very shorty, c' mere.''

Pidge laughed sarcastically when Keith took her into his arms to address the infirmary. Both could have an aggressive passive relationship on the surface, but deep down, they expected that new discovery in the simulation room to change things a bit between them.

#kidgefanfic #kidge #keithkogane #keith (voltron)#pidge holt #katieholt #monthofkidge #peith #kidgeapalooza #voltronfanfic #voltron #dayone #kidgeapalooza2019

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darcypalmer · 5 years ago

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Rita reveals some truths that lead to a much awaited love confessions from @diegojaimechavez and Gen which leads them to a new kind of intimacy, Vex hogs the bed

After the first day of questioning, things have slowed down in the next few days. The FBI still asked to see Gen a few times for questions that came up during the questioning of Vivien and Bex, and then Al and the other US Marshalls also had their own questions and paperwork to get through, so she spent most of the time either at the US Marshall offices or in the motel room, waiting around and passing the time.

Diego was there through it all. He had his own paperwork to do and questions to answer, but as much as he could, he tried to stay close, and once they were both done for the day, he took her back to the motel and they passed the time together, and she couldn't have been more grateful for him.

Today was the first day when Diego wasn't actually around. He decided to go back to Sunnymead and pack up both his and her apartment. She told him the only two things she really cared about were Vex and her glasses, and maybe some clothes so she would have some change of clothes around, but even though her apartment wasn't empty, it also wasn't full of personal belongings that she really grew attached to. She organized the place in case somebody would need to come upstairs, so they wouldn't see it empty and unfinished at first glance, but none of it really mattered.

He dropped her off at the offices in case they needed her for anything and then he took off, so Gen has been hanging around the offices, quietly trying to stay out of everyone's way when she noticed Rita coming in and maybe it was childish, but she immediately ducked down, hoping Rita wouldn't notice her. It was probably a miscommunication on Diego and Rita's part that she showed up on the day he wasn't around - that, or she was planning on sticking around anyway and Gen would be spending her night alone from this point forward. Something she expected to happen sooner or later, of course she did, but still she just not wanted to talk to Rita in that moment and have to face just how amazing the woman was once again.

_______________________

Rita came in to see Al, with news on Tyler Ellis. After Diego and Al had a thorough discussion of Rita's involvement, and Al made sure to lightly chastise Diego for calling in an external consultant rather than working within the unit, Al relented and made an appointment to see Rita. She hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt, going into the offices. Usually she was hired off the record and off the books to consult for government agencies - she justified it as being shady 'for the greater good', but somehow she felt like she wasn't just going to give her report, but she was being called into the principal's office in elementary school.

She arrived early, so Rita stopped at the coffee kiosk located in the office building, to pick up a tea and a muffin. As she waited for the tea and looked around, that was when Rita saw the other woman - Darcy Palmer. Or...her real name, but Rita knew her better as Darcy Palmer. Darcy seemed hassled and she looked exhausted; Rita got a smoothie bottle as well, then came over to her.

"Hey there," Rita said, sitting beside her. She handed Darcy the smoothie. "It's the green one, full of vitamins. You look like you haven't seen a decent meal in days. If Diego's catering food, then you definitely have not. I don't know how he manages to look like that, eating the way he does." She broke the muffin in half. "How are you holding up?"

_______________________

She tried. Maybe not as well as she could, but Gen really tried to be as noticeable as possible, but of course Rita noticed her and came over to talk to her - and even brought a smoothie for her! She didn't wanna know just how shitty and tired and drawn-out she must have looked if Rita would look at her and think "yeah, she needs some vitamins in her system". She didn't take it as an offense, even though she knew some people probably would, she just found it such a genuine and kind gesture.

If things were different, she would probably love to hang out with this woman. Now it just kind of felt awkward. She gave Rita an appreciate smile, though, as she took the offered smoothie. "Hey, thanks. To be fair, Diego ate at my place for almost a year, so it's partially my fault how he ate. And by my place I meant my diner, not my place, you know?" she added quickly when she realized how she might have sounded. There was a short time period when he was eating at her place, but it was better if even Rita didn't know about that.

"And if you think he has bad eating habits, you'd be horrified if you knew mine," she joked. "But thank you for this, it's really nice of you," she raised the cup at Rita before she took a sip of it. It was surprisingly good. There was a period of her life when she lived on these and drank them on a daily basis, but it felt like by this time she forgot how they even tasted, and it was nice.

"I am doing okay, I guess. As much as I can in all of this... well, it's kind of quiet in a weird way, mostly just endless questioning and then downtime. Are you here on official business?" she couldn't help but ask. Maybe she wouldn't like the answer, but it would make more sense if she came to report something or for an assignment.

_______________________

"Hmmm," Rita said, with an amused laugh as Darcy mentioned that diner of hers. She'd misinterpreted Darcy's words, thinking that Darcy was making an innuendo-joke about Diego 'eating' at her 'diner'. Rita knew he was sleeping with the woman, and she knew what a disaster that could turn out to be - not just for Darcy, but also for Diego. Now that Vivien Salazar was arrested though, Rita couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for them. Some impossible, tiny, thin sliver of a chance. Rita didn't know Darcy well at all, but Rita felt Diego at least deserved something of a break. He was one of those fools who kept trying to do right, no matter how much he fucked up. He never gave up; and even now, Rita knew he wouldn't give up on Darcy Palmer. Did Darcy feel the same?

"I'm sure you fed him well. And I hope he returned the same. Men can be so greedy sometimes..." she said with a smile. Rita didn't know if that came off too chummy, so she was glad when Darcy asked a question.

"I am, I'm meeting with Al Karga - I'm sure you've already met him by now. My final report to hand in about one Mr Ellis. Then I'm headed back to New York. That's where you're from, right? I'll be glad to get back home, honestly. I've been on the road too long, and I miss my dogs." Rita realized that talking about her home to a woman who was currently so massively displaced was probably rubbing salt in an open wound.

"Oh - I'm sorry. I just mean - well. I hope things work out for you, really I do. Unfortunately without any further, er, monetary provisions from the FBI or US Marshal's office, I'm out of your business for good once I return home. In fact, Diego still owes me for what I've done already; and I'm guessing that fool's planning to pay me out of pocket, too. That invoice'll be unpaid for a while, probably." She smirked. "But I don't mind. At least my ex-husband's a stockbroker, and I get a huge alimony."

_______________________

"Okay..." Gen frowned. What Rita said sounded extremely strange, but she figured she'd just roll with it. And Rita kept talking, too, and once she brought up Tyler Ellis, she forgot about the weirdness completely.

"Was he involved with Vivien?" she couldn't help asking. It was one of the things that she kept running over and over again in her head. How if she would have listened to him, if she actually believed him, maybe they could have been more prepared and maybe none of the shit that happened would have actually happened. Maybe the FBI would have actually found Vivien before she could have kidnapped Juliana. "Sorry, you don't have to tell me if it's classified or anything, but if it's possible, I'd like to know."

Hearing Rita talk about New York and mention having dogs caused such mixed feelings inside of her. Part of her still desired to get back to New York, but she wasn't sure anymore if it was the city itself or the life where she was happy and didn't know all the horrors that she went through even if she could never actually get that back, while other part of her just wished she could have gone back to Sunnymead, back to the life she built up over the last couple of years. "Yeah, New York born and raised. Really loved it there, too, so I get wanting to go back there. Especially if you have dogs waiting for you. What kind of dogs do you have?"

She wondered if Diego knew about the going back to New York thing. They probably already talked about it and agreed on long distance or something. She couldn't exactly imagine Diego going after Rita and settling down in New York. Not because of Rita, she just couldn't really imagine him going so far from Texas for good. In her mind Diego sooner or later would always end up back here, he loved this place way too much for it.

And apparently Rita wasn't only going back to New York, she was also handing in invoices to Diego, which just made no sense. "Wait, Diego was paying you for everything? I thought he called in a favor, and then especially after you two are... you know, together and all, it was you helping out and the US Marshall's office paying if anyone." MIght have been a really stupid though, she knew that, their relationship was not too long yet, but it somehow made sense in her head. Well, until now. It felt like she was missing something.

And that's when it really clicked for her what Rita was talking about when she said they would feed each other and what she was trying to insinuate and was her smile really teasing or did she misread annoyance completely? Gen's eyes grew twice their size and she practically choked on thin air as she vigorously started shaking her head. "Wait when you said I fed him and he gave it back, you meant that the two of us... No, no, I actually meant he ate at the diner that I was running. Real food, actual real food. He even worked at the kitchen for a hot second, we just argued too much and I kicked him out of there, so he just kept coming back to eat there so he can do his job and keep an eye at me."

She looked around to make sure nobody was around them and actually heard this conversation. She didn't only want to make sure RIta didn't think there was anything between them, not anymore at least, she also didn't want to get Diego in trouble because somebody overheard them. Thankfully nobody was around to hear them but she still leaned forward and lowered her voice as she said, "It's not like that between us, I swear. You don't have to worry, it's-- we're close but it's more because we were thrown into these shitty situations together, mainly because of me, but that's beside the point. What I'm trying to say is that he doesn't-- you know, feed me. Not in that regard. I'm not... no."

_______________________

“He wasn't," Rita replied, about Tyler Ellis. She said that without any hesitation. "Not directly, anyway. He had his fingers in a lot of pies and..." Rita looked around the office foyer before leaning closer. "The government's done its share of shady backdoor deals with...a lot of different types of people, but Ellis took that unspoken tactic a little too wholeheartedly. As in, he chose to profit for himself, rather than for his country. And that meant he did a lot of glad-handing and deal-making with all sorts, some of them affiliated to Salazar's syndicate. But I don't think Ellis and Salazar ever actually know each other. Not directly. Sorry, Ms Palm- I mean, Ms Soto, that's the most I can say."

She happily went into talking about her dogs afterwards. Like most dog-owners, she knew the breeds and showed photos to Gen on her phone. Rita clearly loved the two animals dearly.

But when they got back to the subject of Diego, once again Rita misunderstood what Gen was saying about him, because Rita was going off her own understanding of the situation between Diego and Gen. "Of course he's paying me for my services, it's how I make a living. The US Marshal office didn't technically authorize Diego calling me to work Ellis, sooo, yeah. It's just a lot of red tape. Don't worry, I don't charge interest for friends," she said with a smile.

And when Gen mentioned Rita and Diego 'together', Rita flushed, realizing that Diego told Gen about their night. "Listen, Gen. I don't want to assume anything, but it was just that one night, I promise. I didn't know how he felt about you until afterwards. He's a man, you know how it is. Once the blood reaches their privates their brains switch right off. I hope I didn't...make things weird between you two."

But then when Gen rushed to assure Rita that Gen and Diego didn't have any sort of relationship - sexual or romantic - going on, then Rita looked even more abashed. Clearly, from what Gen was saying, it turned out that Rita misread the entire situation. She'd thought their feelings towards each other were mutual. But apparently it turned out the feelings that Diego had for Gen Soto were completely one-sided and very much unrequited by Gen.

"Oh, I see," Rita said, feeling a bit sorry for Diego for getting himself embroiled in yet another doomed situation. It wasn't Gen's fault of course - if she didn't have feelings for Diego, that was her right - but Rita knew Diego would just end up with his heart-broken, completely his own doing. She decided she needed to enlighten Gen, warn her at least so that Gen could hopefully clarify things for Diego.

"And...look I'm sorry for getting so personal, but he's my friend and I do care about him. But I just want to make sure - so Di knows you don't have any, you know, feelings for him, right? And...you know he's got it bad for you? As long as he knows there's no hope in hell of you two happening, then that's fine. It's just. He got fucked-up over a woman before you, and she claimed to love him, even if I'm not sure she did. Since you don't feel anything for him, maybe just, I don't know. Tell him plainly? So the poor lovestruck fool doesn't think he's got any chance."

Rita patted her hand and smiled. "And I'm not judging you for not being attracted to him, or anything like that. If you don't have any feelings for him, that's totally understandable. He's just my friend and he's ridiculously in love with you, so I want to make sure he'll be okay once you've moved forward in your life, y'know? And I really, truly hope you're able to move forward in your life, after all this nightmare with Salazar is over."

She glanced at her phone. "Oh shoot - I should head up to Al's office, I'm gonna be late. Listen - Dar - Gen - it's been good to see you. Sorry for all my assumptions about you two! I honestly thought you two were a thing, that's totally on me," Rita said, rushing to gather her things as she stood up and backed away from Gen. "Good luck on everything, I mean it. Take care, okay? Maybe one day we can meet up again and laugh over this, who knows."

And with that, Rita hurried off to the elevator up to Al's maekshift office.

_______________________

It was a relief to hear that Ellis at least wasn't involved with Vivien directly. He was still a shady person and Gen hoped he would finally get what he deserved without being able to turn it around and slip away from the consequences, but it weirdly made her feel better to know Tyler at least wasn't on the same level as Vivien. He wasn't too much higher, but he was at least higher. "Thank you for telling me this much. And please, no Ms, just call me Gen. Or Darcy. Either works, really, I know it's kind of confusing right now."

She happily looked at the pictures Rita was showing her of the dogs and listened to the woman talk about them. She's wanted one her entire life, but at this point she made peace with probably never having one, so now she was just happy when she could hear about other people's dogs. And it was a nice, small break from the heavy and more serious topics, since right after they went back to Diego and him being charged for everything, and Gen made a mental note to herself that she would have to talk about this with Diego. There was no way she would let him pay for all of this when she was just as involved and part of the reason Rita was asked to dig into that asshole in the first place.

And then things took a surprising turn and suddenly Gen felt like she got up onto the rollercoaster that just kept going on higher and higher without an end, because the things Rita was telling her... well, they just made no sense. Or more like they made no sense in her head cause she was so sure she knew and understood the situation that Diego and Rita and she herself were in, and Rita was contradiction everything she thought she knew and was so sure of, and it was just a lot to take in and process and the fact that Rita just kept talking didn't help in the moment.

She had to admit, it crossed Gen's mind for a moment that Rita might just be fucking with her and telling her some fake story and in the end she would just laugh in her face with a "ha ha, you though, huh?" or something. She didn't seem like that kind of person, but how could she have gotten everything so wrong if everything Rita was saying was true? Even if it couldn't be, because DIego made sure to let her know that he didn't want her or thought they should really happen or that he even wanted anything to do with her sexually, the last of it only a few days ago. So what was Rita even talking about?

Okay, maybe they really just slept together once, maybe she misunderstood that part, but Diego couldn't possibly be in love with her, could he? He made it so clear he didn't want anything from her, what could she possibly have misinterpreted as him being in love with her? Was Rita just a really bad judge of character? Really bad at noticing love and the absence of it?

But she couldn't help her heart from fluttering into life and the butterflies in her stomach awakening and memories flashing into her mind. Him calling her honey repeatedly. The way he kept holding her hand during the drive here. How he was trying to take care of her the entire time they were here, putting in more effort than anyone else would have expected of him or would have done in his place. How he repeatedly told her that he wanted to stay by her side through all of this. How he was constantly trying to make sure she ate and got enough rest because he knew just how shitty she was at taking care of herself. How he kept sleeping in a shitty motel room next to her on the same bed when probably nobody else would have done that, normally they would have just let somebody take a night shift and let Diego rest on his own, let him have some time alone to himself at least. How he was currently somewhere between Sunnymead and here because he not only wanted to pack up his apartment and his stuff, but her as well, without her ever having to ask him of any sort. How he wanted her to take the bed and they had the same argument over it every single night since the first. How he arranged a call to her brother because he knew just how much it would mean to her and how much it would fuel her no matter how everything else was shitty around her. The way he pulled her close against him when they were sitting next to each other on the bed. Just how comfortable he seemed around her, whether it be in the car or in the motel room. How he didn't let her drive because he wanted to give her a chance to some calmness if she could find it. And all of this just in the last couple of days.

Suddenly she felt overwhelmed because if Rita is right, how could she have been so blind and so dumb? How could she have missed all the sighs? Just in the last couple of days alone everything he's done showed loving her, or at least having strong feelings for her, and all of that after he caught her right after she slept with Vivien.

Fuck. Vivien. Fuck. She already felt bad that DIego had to see the aftermath of that, had to know what went down between them, but if he really loved her and he had to see that--- fuck, it was an even bigger fuck up than she originally thought.

Fuck, how could she have missed all of this? DId she really miss all of this? She had so many question and she wanted to fire all of them at Rita, but once Rita finished... well, she wasn't sure what she was talking about, she kind of zoned out once she said that DIego was stupidly in love with her, but she assumed RIta was just trying to be a good friend or something, but once she was done with whatever she was telling her, she suddenly got up, excused herself and left and then Gen was just sitting there, half of the smoothie in her hand, staring ahead of herself and trying to wrap her head and heart around everything.

Could it really be true? All of it? Could she really hope that they could be more? That he could reciprocate her feelings?

And as if on cue, suddenly a family figure appeared in her eyesight and in a couple of seconds Rita's place was taken by Diego who looked hassled with a knapsack in one hand and some kind of food box in another and she didn't have a clue what to say or how to react, her heart was beating out of her chest and she was still in the middle of processing everything as she sputtered, "What-- what are you doing here?" She quickly shook her head and added to make sure he didn't misunderstand her, "I mean, I thought the trip would take you longer, you know. Did everything go okay? Did you manage to get everything? Is Vex okay?" Because focusing on her hedgehog and the trip seemed like a safer topic and it at least prevented Gen from asking him outright if everything Rita told her was true or not.

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Diego put the knapsack on one of the chairs, giving Gen a look before she adjusted her questions to be more specific. "I didn't want the trip to take longer, I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could," he groused, opening up the knapsack carefully. "People know. Obviously Vincent and the rest of the copshop, and the diner - although Flo seemed to be convinced by your vacation story and refuses to believe what people are saying. Everyone was a combination of not wanting to talk to me, and wanted to ask me everything, just like the kids were. I said my apologies and left as soon as I could."

Opening the knapsack up, he revealed that Vex was right inside the bag, which was lined with hastily torn-up newspaper. It looked like Diego had also placed cabbage leaves and some carrot pieces in there too. "I don't know what hedgehogs eat," he said, as they stared at the little creature snuffling around. "Maybe I should've left it with Jose, he seemed to have taken a shine to feeding it. They were all going up into your apartment now - Jose, Flo, a couple of the other servers. But I guess it don't matter now anyway. The rest of the stuff's still in the car, I just came here straight from Sunnymead. I brought the hedgehog's crate too, but I didn't wanna leave the critter in the car. I heard dogs die in cars, figured hedgehogs would too."

Standing straight, Diego slipped his hands into his back pockets. "But there you go. I hope I got everything you wanted, but I could always go back." Checking his watch, he glanced around. "They kept you waiting long? I thought Rita was supposed to come by...."

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Listening to Diego, having him sitting next to her, watching him reveal Vex in the bag, all of it felt so overwhelming and strange and too much and not enough at the same time while Gen was still processing everything. Her mind was still running a mile a minute, and then there was Diego talking about something so mundane and so... well, not to say Vex and what happened in Sunnymead was meaningless and nothing, but all of it for a moment felt so much like that compared to the realization she just had a moment ago. Compared to how dumb she felt in that moment for not seeing it sooner. Cause she really should have seen it sooner. It was right there, so obviously in front of her and she was too wrapped up in her own version of the story that she created for herself that she just couldn't see through it and see the reality.

She wasn't sure how she must have looked from the outside, but she must have had the most dazed expression. She felt completely out of it because he loved her. Even now, offering to go back if he missed something, he was offering to go back even though the drive was long and he probably didn't enjoy being in a situation where the entire town was attacking him on what happened, bugging him with questions and demanding explanations. And still, he was offering to make the trip if she wanted him to.

She loved him so much, so incredibly much.

But it's not like she could just keep staring at him and not say a thing, she needed to snap out of all of this and say something, preferably something coherent and something that wasn't bringing up everything Rita just told me. Because she wanted to talk to him about it so badly, but she also didn't know how to bring it up without it just bursting out of her cause ift hat happened in the middle of the office where anyone could overhear them, it would not end well. For either of them.

She tried shifting her focus towards Vex instead, carefully picking her out of the bag, "Hey little star, did you have a good journey?" she asked of her as if she could actually answer back, still being way too aware of Diego and his closeness and his feelings and not looking at him was so damn hard. "She mainly eats cat food but she will eat anything you give him, so the veggies were perfect, thank you for thinking of it. And thank you for bringing her here. Did you talk to anyone other than Flo from the diner? Did you tell her what happened or do you think I should call and tell her that she should believe everyone else? Did everything seemed to be running smoothly?" She was still working out in her head how she could make sure the Grub would stay open, but she trusted Flo in running everything.

She shook her head. "The waiting wasn't bad, just the usual and Rita is actually here already, we talked and she just went to talk to Al right before you arrived. Speaking of Rita," she realized there was one aspect of their conversation she could at least talk to Diego about, "why didn't you tell me you were paying for her work out of your own pocket? You shouldn't have done that. Or at least you should let me help you out there and pay half of it."

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"Are you alright?" Diego asked Gen, because she was looking somewhat stunned. "Came out of a bad meeting?" he guessed, since this wouldn't be the first time that all the questioning and debriefing with the FBI and the US Marshal office and even with the on-call therapist had completely melted Gen's brain. Some of the evenings when he and Gen returned to their hotel room, she'd just function enough to eat whatever he gave her, take a shower, and then watch TV until she passed out. He knew this would all just be another blur to her, just like it was the first time. With no routine and no set schedule other than getting to the office to sit around and wait, there was a sense of loss and fogginess. There was hardly anything Diego could do about it, but just abide by whatever the system needed from Gen, and making sure she at least didn't pass out from dehydration.

He was hoping that today at least, might give her some activity to focus on. First with looking after the hedgehog, and then sorting through all the things that Diego had brought from Sunnymead. When she finally seemed to click to life she picked up the hedgehog and Diego breathed an internal sigh of relief. At least the helpless living creature was triggering some sort of effect on Gen, and a good effect.

She spoke to it and Diego smiled to himself, but he didn't make fun of her. Because on the long drive back from Sunnymead, he'd had a few conversations with the hedgehog himself. It understood nothing, but it just felt weirdly good to vent to something living. "Oh good. You can thank Carl, he gave me the vegetables. And this sub sandwich for you too. He said apparently it's your favourite sandwich..." Diego shrugged, not sure if this was true or just Carl being Carl. He put the cellophane wrapped submarine sandwich on the knapsack.

"No, I don't think you should talk to anyone directly from Sunnymead any longer. I'm sorry. I told Flo and Jose that the restaurant owner's been informed and the FBI will handle things from there in terms or new arrangements. And yeah - I did talk to Al to find out if there was anything to be done for keeping the diner open. The owner just needs to find a new person to lease it out to, hm? So even if it just shuts down for a while in the interim, chances are someone smart in that town will realize the Grub's a cash-cow and snap it up. Don't worry, you don't...you can't worry about that sort of thing anymore." It was no longer Gen's to worry about. It was a Darcy-thing, and now it was over. He reached out and rubbed her shoulder in commiseration.

"I'll miss that place," he said. Whether he meant the Grub specifically or Sunnymead overall, Diego wasn't specific. But there was a truth to what he said. He released Gen and nodded about Rita, about to get himself a coffee from the kiosk. But then Gen started talking about Rita's work and Diego paused and frowned.

"She told you?" Diego said, and then rolled his eyes. "Dammit Rita..." But it wasn't entirely Rita's fault. She didn't know about Gen Soto's honourable heart that refused favours or good deeds from anyone without some sort of recompense. Gen hated owing anyone anything, even if it was something she didn't specifically ask for. She was stubborn in her desire to pay everyone back, no matter what. It drove Diego nuts, but it wasn't exactly something he could say to Gen. Mostly because her need to even the playing field came from such a good place. Maybe she didn't like being in anyone's debt, but at the same time Gen also did so much good in return.

"Look we'll sort it all out later, okay?" Diego said, with a wave of his hand. "Not like you got money to speak of - your savings and credit card are Darcy's money, not yours."

But he also had a wildcard up his sleeve to distract her from this argument, and this was the perfect opportunity for a distraction. He pulled two photos out of his pocket. "Here you go - I didn't forget these either." Gen's two photos - of Vivien, and of her family.

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Gen only realized both of her hands were taken when the sandwich was planed onto the bag. One of her hands had Vex, the other was still holding onto the half drank smoothie that Rita got her. Vex immediately started smelling, her little nose moving towards the sandwich and Gen smiled. "Thanks. Both to you and Karl, I guess. I'll eat it later, for now this smoothie will be enough." She took another sip of it.

She knew it was coming, that there would be a point when she wouldn't be allowed any more contact with anyone in that town. Technically she already wasn't allowed, but it wasn't spoken specifically out loud to her yet, so she was still holding onto hope. Just like she was holding onto hope that she would be able to somehow keep the Grub. She wasn't sure how that would be possibly, especially if she was relocated, but she was still holding on as the last lifeline to the life she had in Sunnymead, the life she built for herself and came to love. So when Diego told her it was done, there was nothing she could be done, it felt like a whole new kind of loss washing over her. Something similar she felt when she was relocated from New York. As if losing the Grub was making all of it real and final.

The Grub was her baby. It was her project that in a way saved her sanity back when she got to New York. It helped her in so many ways she wouldn't have been able to count them all, it gave her the opportunity to blend into the community with ease and as much as she started working on it with resentment and anger and annoyance towards the business, she came to love it so dearly. And all of it snatched away from her without the FBI thinking twice about it. (Not that she didn't realize that this was the logical and the right move in her position, but she couldn't think about it rationally, all she could feel in that moment was the loss.)

She closed her eyes and willed herself not to let the tears go. She was doing so good in the last couple of days not letting the emotions get the best of her, only allowed herself to cry when the two of them got back to the motel room and her sobs were muffled out by the running shower, and she was not about to break that routine. She knew nobody really would have cared, aside from Diego, but she still didn't want to allow anyone to see that. She took a couple of deep breaths before she opened her eyes again and gave Diego a bitter smile. "Hopefully somebody will open it soon and it will continue to be a staple in the community of the town." Just not with her running it. Or serving people, or doing the books, or even being able to ever step foot in that place. "And yeah, I'll miss it too. Everything, really."

He clearly didn't want her to know about him paying which was... well, it was stupid, really, but if he didn't want her to insist on helping out, it made sense that he didn't want her to know. Rita spoke about it so casually, though, that Gen was sure none of that was ever discussed between her and Diego. She was about to point this out when Diego made a point that she didn't even realize. Darcy's money wasn't hers. "What the fuck?!" she exclaimed, sudden and shocked. "So basically I have even less than I thought I did and basically at this point me getting relocated would be the best case scenario for me because then at least I would get some kind of help. Fuck. Cool. Awesome. We're still talking about the invoices, though," she added a moment later, cause it still didn't feel right to let him pay the full amount all on his own.

But if he wanted to avoid the conversation, he knew just how to distract her. The moment those pictures appeared in her eyesight, she froze once again, her eyes locked onto the pictures. She honestly thought Diego would only bring the one with her family. She did not want to see or have anything to do with the one where Vivien and her were together. She just... well, she wished she could just fucking burn it, really. She wanted to get rid of it in the most drastic and final way possible. Not that she could actually burn it up now, in the middle of the offices. They shut her down before even the photo could catch on fire. But it did give her an idea, and after finishing up the smoothie in her hand and putting its cup down next to her, she carefully took the two pictures, making sure that vivien's was on the bottom, covered by her family's picture so she would not see Vivien's face and placed it in her lap. "Thank you. For bringing these, too," she gave him a smile and reached over squeezing his hand.

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"Yeah," was the most that Diego could say about the fate of the Grub. Gen tried to make it sound very straight-forward and diplomatic, but Diego figured it was just one more private matter for her to have a breakdown over when she was alone. There was nothing for Diego to do about it, except be there whenever it happened. Gen had so much to mourn and grieve over - her family, her friends in Sunnymead, her two separate lives - she probably hardly ever knew where to start. One sadness probably melded into the other, and back again. She was a walking ball of nerves, on the verge of collapse.

So when she had her angry outburst about her money, and insisted on tabling the talk of the invoices for another day, Diego just nodded. "Alright, fine." And then he added, "Payment installments, once you start making money again. With interest, if you prefer." It was a compromise he was willing to make right now, because it banked on the idea of Gen once more getting back out there, finding a way to work again (and Diego knew she had an incredible work ethic, it was one of the things he immediately had liked about her) so she could pay him back. He didn't want the money from her, but if it was something she felt she had to do, then why not just let her do it? She needed a win of her own making.

"Of course," Diego said, when she thanked him for the photos. "I couldn't--"

But he was cut off by a couple of the FBI agents pulling Gen back into one of their offices. They got Diego to come too, and the FBI agent informed Gen that they'd done as much investigation with her as they could for the moment, and in a couple of months, they'd be flying her to New York to provide depositions and possibly testimony with the State Attorney.

Al was there as well, and he added, "The US Marshal office will arrange your lodgings in the time being. You will be moving states, California's been too compromised. It won't be temporary, but..." Al looked at Diego, who nodded. "We've made arrangements that you can keep the same handler, so. Chavez here will be going with you."

The FBI agent nodded. "And then once the trial is over - which could take months - then...we'll see what happens. That's the best answer we can give you, Ms Soto. Unless you have any other questions?"

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Gen nodded, happy that Diego didn't just simply try to fight her on her wanting to help with the money. "That sounds perfect, thank you." Maybe it was a small victory, maybe she wouldn't even be able to fulfill it for a long time still, but it was still something she could plan for, look forward to.

The FBI agent walked up to them without Gen ever noticing and she quickly (but hopefully not so obviously, at least she tried not to make it to be) pulled her hand back from Diego's and the two of them followed the agent into the office and listened to all the information given to them. It was a relief to know that the questioning was finally over, she wouldn't have to spend any more time in this place, but when the agent told her that she would be moved until the trial, for a moment she got scared, because it sounded like it would just be her and not Diego, too. It would have been a cruel twist of fate if after what she realized thanks to Rita, suddenly they were forced apart from each other. But as if Al felt all of that, he reassured her that Diego would be coming and she couldn't help the genuine, happy smile that spread over her face.

"I don't have question. I'm assuming the details will be provided before we are actually there... wherever the new place is."

"Of course. My coworkers are already working on the details of the location with the help of the local US Marshall department. You will be provided with all the information required tomorrow and then moved either the tomorrow evening or the night after that, based on how we can arrange everything. Until then you are required to remain in the room you're already in."

After this, the two of them were ushered out and they headed back to mentioned hotel. They picked up some food for Diego on the way, while she spent most of the ride sunk into the seat, her eyes closed, Rita's words going over and over in her head, Vex enjoying the ride in her lap.

Once they made it to the motel room, they moved everything inside the room, set it to the side of the room so they wouldn't be in the way - she would sort through them later, first she wanted to get Vex comfortable. And talk to Diego about everything. That was the main thing she wanted to focus on. She set up Vex on the bed and arranged the pillows to make sure she wouldn't fall off and then she looked for the trash can of the room - which was empty, just like she thought it would be. Perfect for what she wanted to do. "Do you have your lighter on you by any chance? Could I get it for a moment?"

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"Looks like we'll be dining on pizza for the next couple of days," Diego joked as they drove back to the motel. He motioned to their current takeout sitting in the back of the car. "So enjoy these burgers for now." Even as dire as that sounded though, Diego felt strangely...uplifted. He didn't want to think about his own personal reason for being happy about all these changes, so instead Diego just decided that he felt happy, becaue Gen sounded so happy when they were talking to the FBI.

For once, Gen didn't have any questions for the FBI or for Al. She was compliant and understood the procedure and Diego was surprised. Usually Gen was full of all types of questions, but this time she just accepted her new fate without complaint.

But it wasn't technically Gen's complacency that made Diego happy, but just that smile. That beautiful brilliant smile that Diego hadn't seen on Gen's face for such a long time. It was like sunshine after weeks of rain.

They got back, and Diego tried to sort through the piles of stuff to find the cage he'd brought for Vex. "I know it's here somewhere...oh maybe I left it in the trunk of the car," he said - but it seemed like Gen had the hedgehog sorted with a pillo enclosure, so Diego decided he'd go downstairs and fetch the cage after dinner.

And then Gen was asking for his lighter and he pat his pockets. He handed the zippo to her curiously. "Another smoke?" he asked. "We should conserve them if we're here for a couple more nights and can't go out. It's our last pack."

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Gen took the lighter with the shake of her head. "Nope, for once this isn't for a smoke." She grabbed the trashcan and moved it out of the room - she didn't think the room actually had a fire alarm, but just in case, she didn't want to trigger anything, plus she didn't want anything to get stuck with the smell of smoke, and then she fished out the now very crumbly and bad looking picture she had with her and Vivien on it.

She made sure the other picture was tucked away safe and sound in a place where it wouldn't get hurt or damaged, but she did not give any care about this picture anymore aside from the fact that it got destroyed.

She looked at the picture for a few moments, but at this point even looking at her own happy smile felt different. All of it, the entire picture felt fake and made up and built up on lies and deceit and she just wanted Vivien out other life completely. Which was going to happen, one way or another, but it felt like it started with this picture. This picture which for four years gave her so much strength and emotional support along with the picture of her family. And now it just made her angry for all kinds of different reasons. It was definitely time to get rid of it.

She held the little picture up so Diego could see what she was holding in her hand clearly, too - it felt so important to make sure that Diego saw what she was doing, that he understood that Vivien was her past and she didn't want anything to do with her. Especially after that colossal fuck up, she wanted him to see and know what she was doing.

"You know, for the longest time I never thought I'd actually want to get rid of this picture. I was living in this fucking fantasy and holding onto something that was never real, not for a moment, because I so desperately wanted to believe that it was working and that the fact that I was living in a happiness that was based on ignorance was good for me. Not anymore." And with that, she lit the picture, waited a few moment to make sure it caught on fire, and then dropped it into the trashcan so it could burn through the entire picture without any disruptions.

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"What're you..." Diego started to say, but when she took the trashcan out to the balcony, to the little private corner (they had an end suite) and pulled out the photo, he understood. He rocked back on his heels, folding one arm while he chewed the nails on his other hand. He watched Gen silently then. He didn't try to stop her - mostly because it wasn't his place to stop this. It was part of the process, and really Diego had to admit he admired Gen for being so decisive about this decision. She'd only received the photos today, and already she knew what she wanted to do with Vivien's photo. What it would mean to do this.

He watched as she gave it a goodbye speech, and watched as she lit the photo and then threw it in the metal trashbin. Diego only stepped forward then, and he put his arm around Gen's shoulders. "You okay?" he asked her quietly, after the fire ate the photo up completely, then simmered down into a few burning embers.

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Gen watched the picture curl up and burn and she kept thinking about that night when Diego found her pictures, how much she was desperately trying to hold onto it. How after she even tried to fucking steal it back, for fuck's sake. All of it for a picture of a person she was lying to her the entire time during their relationship.

Compared to that panic she felt during that night, she felt nothing in that moment. No, that wasn't right, there was an incredible rage towards Vivien inside of her for everything the woman put her family and herself through, and then for everything she put Juliana, and Diego and Phoenix and her through now and never for one moment it crossing her mind to apologize, not for a single moment. And then slowly, as the picture got smaller and smaller, there was this weird relief washing over her stronger and stronger, something she did not expect at all, but was very much welcomed.

She watched it for a few moments longer once the picture was gone completely and then Diego was there, his hand wrapping around her shoulder, asking her if she was okay and she just nodded and leaned against him for a few moments. "Yeah, I'm good. This felt oddly freeing," she admitted.

She didn't want to talk about any of it, though. She wanted to talk about anything but Vivien. More specifically, she wanted to talk to Diego about everything Rita told her, she just didn't have a clue where to even start with it. She just knew that she couldn't hold it in for too much longer, especially not if he kept being this nice and supportive to her. She just wanted to blurt out that she loved him, and that probably wouldn't have been the smartest way to start a conversation. Or maybe that is exactly what it would have needed.

But she kept quiet, and she pulled back and gave him a small smile before gently pushing him inside. "Go in, eat, while the burgers and fries are still warm." She followed him, and the two of them settled on the bed like they did the previous nights, except they were situated on the bottom side of the bed since Vex was still very happily enjoying her side of the bed.

Gen pulled a few salad leaves out of the sandwich Carl sent to her and gave it to Vex and then she started munching on her fries. "Did you know that up until like, an hour ago, I thought you and Rita were together? As in, together together, and not just, you know, one night, having a little fun together." She kind of rushed through the sentence to make sure she wouldn't chicken out, her heart beating out of her chest. Here it came, now she would know 100% sure whether Rita was right or not. Not that she now felt like she could have been wrong.

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"I figured that was the point of burning it. Freeing yourself...some kind of personal closure." But Diego felt he was just rambling now about nonsense that he had no real business talking about. Even after that harrowing kidnapping and seeing Vivien Salazar in person, Diego still believed that Gen's dealing emotionally and mentally was something deeply intimate and personal. There was nothing he could do to change what happened, except be whereever Gen needed him.

Once it was over, they left the can outside and headed back into the room. Diego lounged on the bed to eat, comfortable now in such close proximity with Gen. They'd been cooped up between here and the office building for a few days now. One would think Diego would get antsy about it, but he didn't really mind. At the moment, he felt content as he ate dinner in close quarters with Gen.

He wanted to make a comment about the dinner not being as good as the Grub, but decided against it. Gen had only just gotten past one painful memory in her life, he didn't want to remind her of another.

Fortunately, Gen started speaking instead - and what she said genuinely surprised Diego, and made his skin turn flush. "Me and Rita? Because of - listen, Gen. That night was...it wasn't meant to happen." He sounded like he was making excuses for cheating on Gen though, and Diego tried to stop himself from digging that hole any deeper. Not only because he didn't want to make excuses, but also because he wasn't even sure if it was cheating. Did Gen consider it cheating?

"Not that I don't care about her," he added lamely, thinking maybe Gen would get angry at him for disrespecting Rita. "She's a friend, and we've had some benefits every now and again yeah. But it was just that one time and...it was just the heat of the moment." He thought about Gen and Vivien but he didn't mention that. It wasn't cheating, not for him, anyway. Finding out that Gen had slept with Vivien, it didn't feel like cheating to him. But he had no idea how Gen felt. "I hope you understand. I am sorry it happened, if...if it...I mean. Are you...angry?"

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Gen tilted her head as she watched Diego suddenly get awkward and flushed (did she ever actually see him blush, ever? she couldn't remember) and started babbling and he actually apologized. As if he did anything wrong. As if she didn't do the same thing, only worse. And still he was apologizing and thinking that she was mad and Jesus, she loved him so much. How did it take her so long to see all of it? Both her own feelings and his as well. How could she have missed any of it?

She let out a soft chuckle as she shook her head. "Jesus, this is why I love you," she said without it ever even registering what she was saying in the moment as she ran her fingers through her hair. "You sleep with Rita, and then I go and... well, I go and sleep with Vivien, which is like a 100 times worse, and somehow you're the one apologizing and asking me if i'm angry. I really need to get my anger in check if you think I could ever be mad about something like this. Not to mention I'd be the biggest hypocrite on the entire planet." She was hurt, yes, but now she realized that a lot of that pain was her own fault, creating a story in her head about something she saw even though she shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so quickly or used her imagination so widely in the first place.

"No, the reason I-- well, the reason I am bringing it up because I talked to Rita about it. Well, no, I think it was more like we talked over each other and we kept misunderstanding each other and thus revealing things that-- what I'm trying to say is that I thought you two were together, so when you came up, I tried to reassure Rita that nothing was going on between us because I didn't want her to think I'd screw things up for you guys, which was true, I want you to be happy and if that was with Rita, then I'd want that for you. And she believed me so much that... she said some things. About your feelings."

She was talking faster and faster and she could feel her heart beat picking up more and more, and by the time she got to the end of her words, she already half forgot what she already said. She was just rambling, trying to get to her point as coherent as she possibly could, but also in the end not really daring to say the things Rita actually said to her. She felt like a chickenshit, but she also didn't want to say it for him, partly because she didn't want it to turn out to be untrue, and a tiny part of her was afraid that DIego would tell her that just because he wasn't with Rita, it didn't mean he had feelings for her either (and it felt way too good to be true and too many shitty things happened to her in the last few years to believe anything good like this could ever happen to her again), and partly because she wanted him to say it so badly.

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Diego blinked, then paused, then stared at Gen as she kept talking, wondering if he'd just heard what he thought he'd heard. 'This is why I love you' - that was what she said, wasn't it? He looked around, as if there was anyone else in the room who could confirm this. Vex provided no assistance. He turned back to look at her, trying to play catch up to everything else she was saying - and it suddenly felt like a lot.

Was she being sarcastic? As in 'jesus christ, this is why I love you, you're just so aggravating' in a dry, friendly bantering way? He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, only his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. So clearly there was some part of him internally that was making a big, huge deal out of it.

"Well the circumstances were different," Diego pointed out, although his words came out faint and mumbly. He didn't know why he felt the need to defend Gen sleeping with Vivien, apart from the fact that it completely destroyed her life. Again. She didn't need anyone else to beat her up about it when Diego knew she'd be doing a good job of that herself.

Then it connected, when she said she spoke to Rita - she spoke to Rita, apparently, about him. One of those mysterious 'girl-talks' happened between Rita and Gen, where things were discussed and learned. Diego never understood how women could just be almost complete strangers yet manage to accomplish deep heart-to-hearts, only to drift away once more. It fascinated him, and this time it seemed to possibly benefit him as well. At least, he seemed to come out of their girl-talk without either woman being angry at him.

It seemed, possibly, maybe, that it was quite the opposite, in fact.

"My feelings. My feelings?" he repeated, finally with some clarity. He was about to challenge her to detail what 'his feelings' were, according to Rita. Put Gen on the spot and make her confess everything that happened in this girl-talk. But she'd said so much already, and she was looking at him with those huge eyes full of vulnerability and a certain fond softness that went straight to Diego's heart. There was no need to get defensive or challenge her, because she'd said so much already.

Right from the start. It wasn't sarcasm in Gen's tone. And so it would be cruel to make her doubt herself now, at this point, when everything apparently seemed to be revealing itself before them, somewhat out of their control. But there it was.

Thanks to Rita and Gen, and their girl-talk, apparently. He made a mental note to send Rita a gift basket, one day.

But he stayed where he was, watching her intently now. He said the first thing that came to his mind. "It's not wrong. My feelings. They're...they're not wrong. They're not ideal, but that's sometimes just how it works out, and if it's worth it, then it can be sorted, hopefully. And Gen, I'm...I shouldn't have made you feel that way, that you were...wrong. You might be the job for me but - you're much more than just a job for me." Diego paused then, his face crumpling as he tilted his head at Gen. He motioned with his hand.

"And honey - you...do realize what you said to me, just now? Right at the start, before - ah - before you started talking about you and Rita, and all that. You said you...." He prompted her to recall, in case she didn't.

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Gen's stomach dropped at the way Diego repeated her last words, and for a moment she was terrified that Rita was, in fact, wrong and he didn't have any feelings for her. (Did she really believe everything Rita was telling her without being able to properly even ask back? Did she really wish Diego to have feeling for her so desperately that one short conversation made her believe anything?) That whatever Rita thought she saw was a huge mistake and she was nothing but the job and that Gen was right in thinking that everything he was doing lately was out of nothing but kindness. That opening her mouth was a huge mistake and she would be wishing she never brought the conversation up at all.

But then Diego was talking again, or more like stumbling over his words as if he wasn't completely sure what he wanted to say either, just said the first thing that crossed his mind, and Gen's heart was fluttering and waking up, quickly beating out of her chest in excitement and hope. He didn't think they were wrong, he didn't think his feelings were wrong. She tilted her head, her expression softening and a smile spreading across her face that she was sure nobody in that moment would be able to wipe off of her face. "Thank God, cause it always felt right between us and I couldn't imagine how you could... how it could feel anything but that for you," she said, her voice barely above whisper. It somehow didn't feel right to talk normally, as if it would ruin the magic.

She frowned for a moment, trying to figure out what he meant (while finally, for the first time, not freaking out over him calling her honey, cause it was in fact not just a general endearmeant, he said it specifically to her, because he had feelings for her and he wanted to call her something sweet and loving and damn it, she could feel her entire body tingle with excitement over something so small).

"What do you mean? I just said that--" And then it hit her.

This is why I love you.

That is what she led with. That she loved him. Which was 110% true, yes, but that wasn't supposed to be what she led with.

"Fuck," she couldn't help the curse word slipping out of her. "Fuck, I wasn't supposed to tell you like that. Just blurting it out and dumping it on you out of the blue and moving on without even realizing I said it and--" And she stopped herself because she was doing it all over again. Just talking and talking. Her expression softened and she couldn't take her eyes off of him. "But it's true. I do love you. And I want you to know it has nothing to do with gratitude for everything that you did, it's just-- you're an amazing person and I'm so lucky to have met you and looking back it feels kind of ridiculous how long it took me to realize, but I am in love with you."

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It felt hard to speak, and it seemed Gen felt the same way, her words barely above a whisper. Still, Diego didn't come closer to her out of some absurd fear that if he moved now, then this would all suddenly dissipate. Like Gen would bolt like a deer or change her mind or even more cheesily, that this was all just a dream.

But she said it again - I love you - and he didn't even consider that maybe she loved him out of some sense of obligation or like she owed him for something. That thought, more than anything, finally clicked home for Diego. This was actually happening. He could unearth those feelings that he'd tamped down and buried, and actually explore them - with Gen. She said it so plainly, he still couldn't quite believe this was happening, but he did believe it was true.

Dinner forgotten, Diego got off the bed and finally closed the distance between them, picking Gen up in his arms. He kissed her first, fervent insistent kisses, each one longer than the previous. "Are you sure?" he asked her finally, but then quickly said, "No, you don't need to answer that. I believe you." Diego put her down and cupped her face then, searching her eyes for what he finally knew was already there.

"I love you too, Gen..." Diego breathed the words out, and it felt so comfortable being spoken like that. So natural, like it was obvious. He had Gen to thank for that. Gen and her outspoken ways. He smiled, wryly. "So was that what Rita told you? That I was in love with you? She tried to talk to be about it but I ignored her because - well - you and I, we were fighting...damned if I can even remember what about." Something about Tyler, and Darcy - Gen - doing her own thing. Whatever. It hardly mattered anymore. Not when he got to slid his arms around her, and feel Gen holding onto him.

Diego walked them back to the bed, kissing Gen as they sat on the edge. Diego kept kissing her then, so she lay back on the pillows, his arms braced on either side of her head. "So. What do we do now?" He pushed some of her auburn curls off her face. "I don't have any plan for any of this, Gen. And I doubt you do either. You think...you think we can make this work?"

Dropping his head, Diego then rested his forehead against Gen's, a strange sort of relief washing over him. "Damn, this feels surreal. It feel that way for you? This - none of this could've ever happened if...all the circumstances didn't line up. Not all those circumstances were good, either." Gen's cover being blown, Juliana getting kidnapped, the anger and betrayal from Sunnymead. Her life over in the space of a few days. "Is this a good thing? I don't - with everything happening, Gen, I don't want to ruin it just because...we don't know how to control it."

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There was a moment of quiet and stillness between the two of them, when they just looked at each other and neither of them dared to move, almost as if neither of them wanted to ruin the moment, as if the smallest movement on either of their part could make all of this disappear. And then Diego was moving, towards her, for her, and Gen couldn't help the genuine, happy laugh that break out of her as he swoop her up into his arms. And then his lips were pressed against hers, Diego kissing him with passion and Gen's laugh died, matching his passion and fervency with hers, not wanting to let him pull away even just for a moment, let alone him speaking stupid things and asking her if she was sure just to then reassure her that he believed her. She didn't think she would ever be allowed to kiss him again, and now she didn't want to stop.

Okay, maybe she was okay with stopping the kissing for Diego cupping her face and telling her that he loved her, too. She was more than okay with that interruption. Her arms were around his torso and it felt like she melted into his arms hearing those few simple words. If somebody told her they would be here after she first met Diego... hell, if somebody told her at the beginning of the day, she wouldn't have believed any of it. It just felt too good, too surreal, too much out of a book or a movie. Too much like a happy ending when she for the longest time didn't believe she would ever get one.

"Yeah, that's what she told me," she said, her lips curling up in a grin which she doubted would disappear from her face anytime soon. She reached up, one of her hands wrapping around Diego's neck and holding onto him tight and strong, pulling him close, while she cupped his face with her other hand, her fingers caressing his face. "After I told her that there was nothing between us cause I didn't want her to worry while you two were together - there was a lot of miscommunication in the conversation -, she told me that I needed to talk to you and let you down easily because you're ridiculously in love with me and you need to know you don't have a chance with me. And then she just walked away." She felt so overwhelmed in that moment and had so many questions she wished she could have asked from Rita, but it was better like this. She didn't want to talk about Diego's feelings with Rita, she wanted to talk about them with Diego. His feelings and hers and how they could figure out all of this.

"Careful, careful, we don't wanna crush Vex," she chuckled as they laid on the bed, Gen making sure they landed on the other side of the bed to where the little hedgehog was. Maybe she should have gotten her out of there, but in that moment all she could do was keep holding onto Diego and keep looking at him. A part of her was still scared that if she just looked away, all of this would be gone, while the other part of her simply couldn't get enough of him, his touch, the way he so openly looked at her with adoration and love now.

They could do that now. They could finally be open about their feelings, neither of them had to keep it in anymore, neither of them had to wonder how the other felt. It was like such relief, like an amazing dream she never wanted to wake up from. Except it was reality, which made it all even better.

At his question, she leaned up and kissed him, this time slowly. "I'm not sure what we're going to do now, but we'll figure it out. We'll make it work. I refuse to accept anything else. We have some time here in this room, and then we'll be somewhere else for a couple of months at least. We can just figure it all out one step at a time." New life, new identity, new people. Everything was new, but knowing he would be there, that they would be there for each other from the beginning - it felt a lot less daunting this time. At least they could rely on each other through all of it.

She gently started running her finger along his arm as he was propping himself up above her while she nodded. "Yeah, it feels surreal. Or more like a dream. I never though... fuck, Diego, I was so convinced you didn't want anything to do with me, not anymore, all of this doesn't feel real yet." She leaned up and kissed him, originally wanting to only give him a small kiss in between their conversation, but she just couldn't get enough, couldn't pull away. He felt intoxication, addictive, and she wanted to keep kissing him, keep him close.

"Our timing might not be the best, but if both of us want this, I can't see this as anything other than good." The timing really was not the best, especially not considering how they were still very much surrounded by Marshalls and the FBI, and she still didn't want to get him in trouble for any of this. Hearing him say that he didn't want to ruin this, though, it made her heart warm and jittery. "I don't want to ruin this either. Maybe if we take it slow, we can keep it in control. And Diego, I--" she pushed herself up a bit onto one of her elbows, and cupped his face, looking into his eyes. "I'm still very much a mess, that's not going to change, and I don't-- I don't want to screw this up with where I am right now. I don't want to just be the sad girl you gotta comfort and cheer up at all times, you deserve better than that." A moment of quiet before she whispered, "I want to love you right. The way you deserve it." It felt important to make that clear.

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"Well I wouldn't say it was ridiculously in love..." Diego grumbled in protest as Gen described what her and Rita talked about. But he mostly just protested in jest, because the conversation sounded so very Rita. And so very Gen, for that matter. Of course she'd convinced herself somehow that he had no feelings for her. Because, he supposed, he'd dine such a good job trying not to acknowledge his feelings.

Diego had, for a brief, weird, blissful bubble of time over the holidays. When he and Gen started sleeping together more regularly, when things felt and seemed happy and peaceful between them. Those moments of tenderness and togetherness where they actually talked about things as a couple would. Except they never talked about deeper things - like feelings for each other, or plans for the future. It was safer that way of course, especially because it couldn't last forever. And it hadn't. The bubble burst, and life returned, and then madness happened.

And now here they were again. "I never thought we'd get this chance, so I just didn't want to give either of us hope," Diego explained, to try and assuage Gen's convictions that he hadn't felt anything for her. So she didn't think she was just being stupid or blind. "We were going along so well for a while, but too much of a good thing...can just be a fantasy when the world around you is terrible. I learned that lesson already. And so did you, in a way..." Diego glanced over at Vex for a moment (safe between her pillows) and then kissed Gen again.

"But this is different. Everything's different now, including this. You're right. This is good. We'll take it slow so we can figure it out. We don't have to rush things and we're both adults with...lots of fucked-up experience, so."

He was glad to hear Gen being reasonable like that, it soothed his own fears. She always had a very sensible way of looking a things, often from angles that Diego's own mind couldn't see. He could rely on that, like he had in the past. And for the first time, Diego realized he could see a future for them. Nothing substantial, just a pinpoint of light, and hope. And possibility. He felt something else too, like the inklings of a chapter coming to a close, to start a new chapter soon; but he didn't know quite what to make of that so he tabled it for now and focused on Gen and Gen alone.

"No, none of this feels real yet," he agreed, looking around them. "It's the ambiance, and the state of displacement - I don't think either of us function well when our lives are in limbo, hm? Your life more than mine, but where ever you go, honey, you know I'm gonna follow. I'm glad I convinced Al and he worked that bossman magic. Maybe once we're in the new interim town before the trial, we can...know what to do. I trust my instincts with you by now, hm?" He ran a curled finger along her soft cheek. Diego smiled and slowly lowered himself down, beside Gen so that they could just lay together looking at each other. Vex, in truth, took up the majority of the space while Gen and Diego shared a smaller space on the bed. Not that Diego minded in the least.

"And I know things aren't gonna transform overnight, Gen. This ain't no Cinderella story. Besides, I like comforting and cheering up my sad girl, when she's sad. You better not try'n pretend shit's okay and that you're fine just to delude me, Gen. I'll know. I know all your signals, even when you try to hide them." But even still, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and fluttering inside of him, when Gen said she wanted to love him right...because he deserved it. "I think you're the first person who's told me I deserve something so good, Gen. Other than my mother, I guess, but that's much different."

He still touched her, hand rubbing along her arm and hip in stroking motions. "I'm in no rush, as long as I still got you. And whenever you're ready - whenever we're ready to do it right, then we will. For now, we'll take it slow. And if I'm being honest with you darling, I don't think we should sleep together right now, even if it would help with some of the tension. It'd be too superficial...I can't believe I'm suggesting this," Diego guffawed and looked up at the ceiling as if to confirm his own words with God.

Then, decision made, he looked back at Gen. "We should wait till we're settled and not so...waiting for someone else to make plans for the next step in our lives. Right now if I was gonna have sex, it'd just be mindless sex purely for physical pleasure. And I don't want that with you. And I don't want anyone else but you, even for mindless sex, so. We can just stay here like this, hm? For now, until we...until things are right."

He chuckled then. "Why do I suddenly feel like a teenager trying to do the good Catholic thing about my first time?"

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Gen shook her head quickly as Diego tried to explain. "Hey, no, no, darling, I didn't think it could go last, either, you didn't do anything wrong. And I misinterpreted a lot, I came to my own conclusions. Which already proved to be way off from time to time," she joked. "So you didn't do anything wrong."

She shifted just a little so Diego would have the space to lower himself next to her. Not too much, though, she very much enjoyed the close proximity and all she wanted to do was stay close to him, stay touching, but just enough so he wasn't in danger of falling off the bed. She rested her hand over her side, her fingers slowly drawing circles on his back. "I like it when you say that, that you're coming wherever I am going. I know it's true, I know you said it before, but I still like hearing it. And I like it when you call me honey." If nothing else, that should have been a dead giveaway. There was something in Diego's voice, a softness that wasn't usually there that was only there for her, that was filled with adoration and love. Of course it wasn't just a casual honey.

Gen's heart filled up with warmth and love as Diego said he knew nothing would change overnight but that he wanted to be there through the bad parts. She knew that already, he made it very clear, but still it was nice to hear. "I wasn't planning on that... okay, no, that's not fully true, I would probably try and hide some of it, but I know that you can tell. And I really appreciate you being there for me, and I will try not hiding it. And just to be very clear, there's no hiding anything now," she added and kissed him. "Just happiness."

It felt strange in a way, to feel this happy in the mids of everything else, but it also felt like it was something that was well deserved, something that was right and almost needed after all the shit that happened.

Him saying she was the first person to say something so nice to him felt so sad, if she really thought about it, but it also didn't surprise her. Other people were definitely idiots, not to notice just how amazing he was, but she also knew that she was one of those idiots only a couple of months ago. He barely let anyone close enough to see through his hard exterior, and she was lucky to have been able to let in like that. "Well, you do deserve it, even if other people are too dumb to see. I'll just try to make it worth the wait, I guess."

She watched him with an amusing smile on her face as he struggled to believe what he was about to suggest. "Diego Chavez himself suggesting to table sex for a while? Who would have thought we'd see the day," she teased him, chuckling before giving him a small kiss and reaching up to caress his cheeks. "I agree, by the way. I think we should wait, too. It just... it wouldn't feel right here." This, what they had here now, the way they were lying so close to each other, felt more intimate and more important than any sex they could have in that moment.

"And maybe you feel like a teenager trying to get your first time right because in a way this is gonna be the first?" she suggested. "Obviously not in the same sense, but this feels like a start, a new beginning. And it's nice, that you wanna start it off right. Make sure we don't screw things off or rush into anything." A new beginning just for the two of them. And damn it, they deserved it, after all of the horrible shit they had to go through and all the ups and downs they went through.

_______________________

Gen called him 'darling' and it had been so long since she'd used any term of endearment on him, that Diego was struck by hearing it fall from her lips. He absorbed it, impressed his moment into his memory even though the possibilities were high that she'd call him something sweet again. More and more, even. The idea was exciting, even one as simple as that.

The revelation had been so huge, but Diego felt so calm about it. He wasn't afraid, and he didn't feel the need to mask any anxiety with intensity. This was just them - bare, open, and raw. Not because they were pulling off each other's clothes, but because they lay together, just looking at each other and talking. That was more raw than anything else.

"You didn't do anything wrong either. I think we just have a knack for poor timing, hm," he said, holding her chin gently to give her another kiss. "But that's fine. Even with...everything going on right now, we're still gonna do out best to make it work." Diego said it like an statement for the both of them - and maybe that was a little presumptuous to speak for Gen as well, but he liked to think she agreed with him on this. When gen threw herself into something, she did it whole-heartedly, accepting the wins as much as the loses. And now, with everything said, perhaps she might even be able to gain more wins than loses.

"The Grub was your biggest win, after losing your first life," he observed, realized. "It was successful and brought people together, and it kept you busy and happy. No wonder you love that place so much. I'm so sorry you had to leave it, Gen. I'm sorry about you leaving all that you accomplished and everything you loved in your first life two, but I didn't know you then. I know you were in your element, at the Grub. You're gonna do it again. You've gotten knocked off your feet before, but you'll get back up and do good things again."

He chuckled when Gen teased him, and leaned into her touch against his face. "I know, I know. But I guess you put the pious back in this old choir boy." This was all so tender and intimate. It was also rather sudden and yet it felt so natural. Maybe because they'd kind of been down this road before, but never had a chance or the freedom to explore this far. So it was retreading familiar territory but just...more of it. Without trepidation.

Even if there was the possibility of this ending badly, those chances felt slimmer now. At least, it did for Diego.

And the more Gen spoke, the more he believed she felt the same way. "Aren't you poetic. I like that though, yeah. A new beginning. It could...it could be. I'm no spring chicken, Gen. The older you get, the harder it gets to see a - a future with just anyone." He looked her in the eye, his expression tentative, if earnest. "It has to be someone...who actually clicks."

_______________________

"Maybe..." Gen started, "maybe all that poor timing is what we needed." She didn't really believe in a lot of things, fate sometimes seemed to be more like something that people who didn't have anything else to grasp onto believed in (and sometimes she did feel like one of those people, but only sometimes), but if this is how it was meant to be, she could live with that. "All the fighting and all the miscommunication and time spent together and apart, maybe that's what we needed to make sure that when we got here, we could make it work."

Diego put the gist of what Gen was feeling about the Grub and why she was feeling it so well and so perfectly, she probably wouldn't have been able to put it this well, not right now at least. Mainly because the moment she thought about the Grub and how she didn't have it anymore, couldn't see it anymore, couldn't even go near it anymore, let alone talk to the people who worked for her, who came in every day, who brightened up her day and made her feel like she belonged in that diner, in that town - the undescribable grieve hit her all over again. For the diner, the people, the town, and everything else she's lost.

And while she appreciated Diego's trust and faith in her that she could do it all over again, she wasn't so sure of that anymore. She had built something up twice at this point - both so different, her business and career in New York being something she mostly did on her own and it was focused on her push and drive and need to be the best and get better and better while make a name for herself in her own field, while the Grub might have technically been something she did alone, too, but it was a community effort, she wouldn't have gotten anywhere without her employees and the people who came in. Two very different things and both of them snatched out of her hands along with her entire life. She wasn't sure she would be able to build anything like this ever again in fear of losing it all over again. And she was definitely certain she wouldn't be able to watch something else being taken away from her in the same fashion.

She knew the loss of the Grub and Sunnymead and everything and everyone else would at some point turn to nostalgia and to a loss that felt bearable, something that didn't feel like it could tear her apart at any moment, but the wound was still too fresh and she couldn't help the wave of sadness hitting her. Gen hated it. On any other day she would have dealt with it. Maybe not gracefully, but she would have, but she didn't want today to be about sadness. Not today. She just wanted to be happy and enjoy their little bubble just a little bit.

"Can we not--" She stopped for a moment, ducked her head to gather her thought before she looked back at him, a bittersweet smile on her face as she said. "I really appreciate everything you just said, I truly do, but can we not talk about it, just for now, please? I-- I don't want to be sad tonight. I just want to enjoy this and not think about anything else outside of this room." At least not anything that led to thinking about everything that was just left behind. "Maybe except for where do you think we would be going? And how it will all work? I did this once myself, but I assume it will be different going in with you."

There was an openness, a certain kind of truthfulness and tenderness in Diego's eyes, every look of his, every touch, every movement, that Gen hasn't seen before. She's seen fragments of it, she was sure of that, but never this openly and easily, and it brought a smile to her lips.

Him teasing and Gen let out a small chuckle at his choice of words. "Sure, you're not 20 anymore, but you're not that old either. Just... mature. And I happen to like mature," she leaned in to kiss him. His words stuck in her heart, though. It can only work with somebody who clicks with him. She clicked with him. Gen knew he was talking about her, obviously, he was talking about her, otherwise this would turn into a very awkward conversation, and even though he didn't specifically say it out loud, but her heart was melting. He saw a future with her. It really felt too good, too much like a dream. As if finally the universe realized just how much she went through and allowed her some happiness, too. Both of them.

It still felt too good to be true, though, and she couldn't help but ask, "This is real, right? I'm not going to wake up soon and realize all of this was just a really vivid, really well crafted dream my mind decided to tease and torture me with?"

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"Mm," Diego hummed, as Gen pointed out her own opinion, and he liked what he was hearing. It wasn't exactly fate or destiny between them, but it was just something that happened because of everything they'd gone through. They deserved this, didn't they? Was it even a matter of deserving? These were questions Diego couldn't answer, at least not right now.

And when Gen asked not to talk about things like the Grub, or memores of Sunnymead, Diego pulled her a little closer and kissed her brow. "Of course, of course," he said, because she was right. Despite this revelation coming to light, it hadn't meant anything really had changed around them. Gen was still at risk, she was still transient and still playing the waiting game right now. Small graces under so much bigger pressure and stress. This wasn't the time to debrief about things she couldn't control, and didn't know how to process. She had no security or stability right now, no foundation to rest on so that she could process. So Diego just stroked her hair and arm, just letting the feeling of close intimacy wash over them like warm waves.

Eventually though, Gen had to ask questions, and Diego looked into her eyes again. "No, I don't know. Somewhere on the mainland of the United States. Probably not New York, or Texas," he said with a slight smile. "Too obvious. And we're likely not staying in California...I think the FBI Agent Karmeni said as much there. But that leaves the rest of the states wide open. I believe this time it will be more explicit though. If we're going together, it's unlikely that we'll have to pretend to be strangers. It would be too obvious. But whatever they decide, it'll be fine, alright? There's protocol for all of this, and we've been through it before. It'll be fine."

Of course Diego wasn't sure of that, but he was reassuring himself as much as Gen. Despite how out of control things got with Vivien Salazar showing up, he hoped they could regain some semblance of control now. He couldn't help but add, "Just please, for the love of god, listen to me when I ask you to do certain things. You can argue all you want, but don't--" He didn't want to bring up Gen driving to LA on her own steam, and not telling him. But he had put the past in the past, and he wasn't going to dredge it back up. "- don't do anything hasty. Trust in me."

Diego shook his head and muttered 'unbelievable' in grumpy amusement when Gen said she liked mature. It sounded so ridiculous, but in an entirely endearing way. He leaned in and kissed her, long and soft, almost luxurious. As if they were perfectly fine, and this was just a lazy Sunday together with no cares in the world. "No torture. No dream. For better or for worse, this is real, Genevieve Soto."

_______________________

Gen closed her eyes and leaned closer, burying her face into his shoulder and neck, focusing on his fingers on her hair and arms while she held onto him and got lost in the sensation. He couldn't just erase the pain she felt, nobody could do that, but damn it, this quiet and intimacy between them helped in such ways she never thought could be possible and she let it settle between them for a while before she spoke again.

She listened to his thoughts about where they would end up, and how the two of them would be didn't even cross her mind, and now she was wondering about that. They'd probably get assigned to be friends or something, though. Maybe they get a place together and then they would be roommates - that sounded like something the FBI would do. And then leave it to them to explain why they moved together as friends or something. Not that they couldn't handle it, lying was still something she was way too good at. And at least they'd be close to each other.

"Is it weird if I say that I hope we are not going into one of the big cities?" She never really thought she'd say this or even feel this. For so long all she wanted was to get back to New York, but now it somehow felt too big, too unfamiliar, too unknown. Small towns had communities that never really happened in big cities, not in the same way. And even if it was just for a small period of time, she wanted to go somewhere where she could feel okay. "I know it's gonna be fine, I am weirdly not that scared of that aspect of it. I mean, I'm scared shitless, but that's more a general feeling about, well, everything. God, I'm not even sure if I make sense at this point. But my point is that you being there, knowing that definitely helps. A lot."

She could feel guilt rising in her at Diego's request. She kept promising him to do better, to communicate better and be a better team player, and she kept screwing up and doing stupid things and leaving out Diego in one way or another, endangering not only herself but him too (and even other people too, with her latest stupidity). And he was even trying to be nice about it, playing it down and calling it hasty instead of reckless and stupid.

"I close my eyes and I keep seeing Juliana tied to that chair, the way her wrists looked after I untied them and all the shit she said she had to go through while we got there. The way Vivien held the gun to your head. I was terrified and I-- all of that could have been avoided if I wasn't reckless and didn't go to LA. So I think it's safe to say that my reckless days are over. I can't-- I'm sorry it took me this long to understand just how big of an impact me not following the rules could get, but I'm done, I'm not going to object to what you tell me to do. I might argue about certain things, I can't promise you that I won't, but I promise I am done being hasty, as you put that so nicely."

Gen melted into the kiss and held onto Diego strongly, but gently at the same time. It was the kind of kiss that felt like as if they had all the time in the world to them - and now they had. Even when they started dating, it never felt like it would be something that could last, as good as it was it always felt like there was a ticking timebomb on the two of them, so even their quiet moments didn't feel like this, not quite, and to know that they really did have all the time in the world now - it was indescribable and it caused such a warm feeling in her entire body. They could and would be happy together.

"This is real," she echoed his words. "I hope you know I'm going to kill you if you turn out to be wrong," she added against his lips, her voice teasing. "I might ask you this same question a couple of more times, just a heads up." Probably especially during her low moments when her mind would spiral. After all this time, she knew how her brained worked and she was in a good place right now, but she knew it wouldn't last forever, not until she got some help at least, and she would feel like this was too good to be true or too good for her to deserve it. Well, she felt it now too, but in a good way.

#——it's real #——diego chavez (025)

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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630

SEVEN DEADLY SINS

Sin 1: Lust 1. Who was the last person you checked out? Did they check you out too? Surprise surprise, it’s my girlfriend. Yeah she did - I think I’d start worrying if she didn’t, lmao.

2. Who was the last person you desired, but they didn’t feel the same? Gab, at one point. Other than her, I haven’t desired anybody else; but I was on the ‘didn’t feel the same’ side at least once, back when Mike used to like me.

3. Ever cheated on a significant other? If so, have you learned from it? No, I’ve never cheated.

4. Do you watch porn? Yes. I’d have phases where I’d view it 2-3 times a week, then I’d completely stop for months – kinda like how everyone plays The Sims lol. I don’t know why it works like that for me.

5. Do you masturbate? Sometimes.

6. Best physical features on your preferred sex? I don’t have a preferred sex, and my favored features differ per person.

7. Who are some celebrities that you think are totally hot? Kristen Stewart, if you don’t me already haha. Also Eugene Lee Yang from the Try Guys, Beyoncé, and Jennifer Aniston.

8. Did you ever lust after a best friend’s significant other? How did it turn out? Mmm nope, I never found myself attracted to Hans in any way. The fact that he has always been associated with Angela ever since high school also helps.

9. When was the last time you had sex? Like a week before Christmas, I think.

10. Ever pursued someone, even though they were taken? No, that’s a little awful.

Sin 2: Gluttony 1. When did you last eat at a restaurant? What restaurant was it? Last Monday – Gab and I went to Yabu to catch dinner. We had been entertaining my mom’s guests and their kid all day and thought we couldn’t leave the house cos it’s a bit impolite, but I had such a craving that I ended up asking permission if we can go to Yabu by 8:30 even though the mall closed by 9 lol. I realize I talk about Yabu an awful lot on here so for those who wanna know, it’s this local Japanese place that serves theeeee best katsu.

2. When did you last have fast food? Where did you get it? I don’t actually remember. If I’m not wrong, it was around two or three weeks ago, and we had KFC delivered to our house because we were too lazy to cook or go out. I had the Zinger Steak, which I hope they never phase out because it’s insanely good.

3. What was the biggest meal you had all day? I haven’t eaten yet, and it’s only 10:51 AM.

4. Do you have too many clothes? How often do you go shopping? I wouldn’t say it’s overwhelmingly many, but I definitely own more clothes than the pieces I’d usually wear, and that’s because I don’t like throwing old stuff out just in case I’d need them in the future (definitely got my great-grandma’s hoarding tendencies). I go shopping once in a few months, which in itself is pretty seldom, but that’s because when I go shopping I usually already buy a shit-ton of new clothes, enough for me to be able to mix and match to come up with new outfits for the next few weeks.

5. What’s something you have a LOT of? Black clothing. I’ve made an effort to get more colored tops, but the blacks still overpower.

6. Do you eat a lot? I’m very takaw-tingin, which is a Filipino term used when you get a crapload of food either because you’re hungry or because you’re confident you can finish it – or both – then you never do. Takaw means greedy or glutton, tingin roughly means sight, so it literally means that you just kinda want to get everything because it looks like a lot. So to answer the question, I always feel like I can eat a lot, but at the end of the day I just end up with stomachaches and I never learn.

7. What was the last thing you splurged (spent a lot of money) on? If a bunch of stuff counts, then I splurged on Christmas presents for various people that I all bought in one go – I got massage oils, a garlic press, a frisbee, Marikina sandals, lipstick, and Instax film. If you’re talking about a single thing that I had to drop a ton of money on, it was for my dog’s blood test and some arthritis meds that the vet recommended.

8. What do you spend most of your money on (besides bills and anything necessary like that)? I only ever spend on necessities like gas, clothes, and food, honestly. Other than that... I spend on (and this is very seldom) whatever hobby I’m into at the moment. At one point I spent on slime because I got interested in them, and before that – and y’all know about this – I spent my Christmas savings on adult coloring books and pencils.

9. Last time you ate candy? What was it? A week or two ago; I had a Crunch bar.

10. Last thing you ate too much of? Eggs, I think. My mom makes it for breakfast so I have it almost every day.

Sin 3: Greed 1. Do you share things? How often? Yeah I can be pretty generous with my stuff. I know I’d appreciate it when other people lend me their belongings, so I try to do the same. I once lent my phone to Rita for over an hour just because she wanted to play Mario Kart, and I also lent a book that’s really important to me to an online friend I barely knew; it was with him for like two years, lol.

2. Someone asks you for a piece of your cookie. You break it in half, but the pieces aren’t equal. Who gets the bigger piece? Usually it would be me; but if the person who asked for it was Gab, or if that particular person likes the cookie I have, then they get the bigger piece.

3. When you see change on the ground, do you pick it up? Only if it’s a 10-peso coin, because I’m greedily picky like that lmao. Other people might need a peso or a 5-peso coin more, so I leave it be.

4. How often do you lend money to people? I don’t, and that’s one thing I wouldn’t tend to lend. My parents just give me allowance and it’s usually enough for necessities and for treating myself once or twice a week, so I wouldn’t be able to have some left for others. Besides, that’s my parents’ money and it would be pretty fuckin’ unfair to them if I just give it away to others lmao.

5. Do you loooove money? I hate what it’s done to society, how it’s divided the rich and the poor, and how the people with the most money also tend to be the most selfish coughcoughBILLIONAIREScoughcough. But I love spending for my own, hah.

6. If someone offers to pay for you, do you decline or readily accept? Oh no no no. Decline all the way. If they keep insisting then I’ll probably give in because it’s the polite thing to do, but if I can, I’ll keep declining.

7. Which of your friends is the wealthiest? Rita. Her grandpa is a former senator and she lives in literally the swankiest neighborhood in Metro Manila; I was a bit intimidated when she invited us to her place for the first time lol. She’s the simplest person I know, too; and that’s my favorite kind of rich.

8. Would you take a high-paying job that you didn’t really like just for the money and benefits? That’s definitely what I plan to do, lmao. At least this is how I know myself now: I have enough money to buy whatever I want, and I’m a happy camper. That may change in a few months or within the next year and I may eventually wanna search for a passion – but for now, it’s the mindset I’m going with when I go job-hunting soon. If I survived four years of college with a very burnt-out, emptied passion for journalism that I thought I had, I could probs do the same in the workplace.

9. Ever stole from anyone? What about stole from a store? What happened? I unknowingly stole a box of crayons from a store back when security equipment wasn’t that rigid yet lmao. I realized I ‘stole’ it because I had it in my hands and not in a paper bag when I walked out, so I immediately went back to pay for it. I’ve never stolen anything from anyone.

10. Do you ever have enough money? I don’t think anyone ever feels this way. Ever heard of billionaires?

Sin 4: Sloth 1. Last thing you procrastinated on? Washing the dishes last night.

2. When you’re at a strip mall and the next store you want to go to is at the other side, do you drive over there instead of take a short walk? It depends how far “the other side” is. <-- Yep pretty much. If it’s literally on the other side of a street, then obviously I’d go walk. But in places like my school which is super big and where ‘other side’ could mean 2 km away, a drive would be more convenient.

3. What’s a typical day off of school and/or work like for you? I’d normally spend the day lazing around on the couch with my dog beside me and lurking around social media.

4. What’s one talent you have that you don’t really work on, even though you have the ability to be good at it? Public speaking, or debating.

5. How many hours of television do you watch a day? I keep Friends as a background noise on Netflix nearly all day because I hate when it gets too quiet around me. As for watching on an actual television, I haven’t used one in years.

6. What about the amount of time you spend on the internet a day? The internet takes up my entire day it’s crazy lol. I kinda need it for everything now.

7. How many hours of sleep do you get a day? Do you sleep in late? It’s always different. I can go anywhere between 3 and 10 hours of sleep. I don’t sleep in often, though.

8. Do you drive to places that are less than three blocks away? I don’t know how big blocks are supposed to be since we don’t use that system here. But yes, I usually drive even though Point A to Point B is very much walkable hahaha. My friends make fun of me a lot for it but I don’t care, at least I don’t get to my destination all sweaty and smelling like the sun.

9. When was the last time you exercised? November, on my last PE class.

10. Ever copied and pasted your homework from a website on the internet? I never did this. My schools always emphasized the consequences of plagiarism so as someone who always stuck by the rules, I always made sure I at least paraphrased the content I see on the internet.

Sin 5: Wrath 1. If you could kill one person and get away with it, would you do it? I know it’s pretty dark to come from such a place, but I’ve always thought death is an easy way out for people who’ve done awful things. I could answer this question with a name of a corrupt politician, rapists, or animal abusers, but tbh they don’t deserve the sweet escape of death, even if it were from murder.

2. Is there anyone you honestly and truly can say that you hate? Anybody who has hurt cats and dogs.

3. Is there anyone you want revenge on, whether you want to get them back big-time or just play a little prank on them for hurting your feelings? Like I said, I’d daydream about getting revenge just to satiate my desire for it, but I think it’s pretty childish and downright cartoonish to actually go through with it. I’ve only ever seen people getting petty revenge in movies, but it seems a bit stupid in real life.

4. Are you fighting with any friends right now? Why? No. The most that’s happened was me kinda scolding Andrew for not letting me know beforehand that he submitted our thesis proposal to our prof through VIBER, which is incredibly unprofessional and I definitely let him know what I thought about it. I didn’t fight with him though.

5. Last time you were really angry? What happened? The aforementioned thesis prof letting me know we’re missing a part of our thesis on the last day for profs to submit their grades. That meant that however early we submitted a revision, she wouldn’t have been able to give it a mark anyway. That definitely pissed me off, especially considering that she was silent for two weeks and didn’t give back any comments which made us think we were good to go.

6. When you’re angry, what do you do to calm yourself down? I watch Friends or any one of my favorite YouTubers so I can have some relief. Other times, I’d force myself to sleep.

7. “Hate is just the fear of loving someone.” true or false? No. That makes no sense to me.

8. What’s the best revenge you ever got on someone? Never done this before.

9. Was there any hard feelings after your last break-up? On whose end was it on? There were definitely hard feelings in the beginning because she executed the breakup so poorly and I thought I didn’t deserve any of the treatment I was getting, and I was also mad that I wasted my time for that long only for her to break up with me in the end.

10. Ever been cheated on? How did that make you feel? No.

Sin 6: Envy 1. Is there anyone you’re jealous of? Name a person and tell us why. Envious is the better word, and I feel this way towards anybody who live with both parents. My dad’s worked overseas all my life, and as grateful as I am for his sacrifices, having a dad at home is more foreign sensation to me than the idea of having a dad who’s gone for 4-6 months a year.

2. List three physical features some other people have that you’re envious of (no need to get specific and name people; you can just say something like “brown eyes” or “having perfect eyebrows”). Straight teeth, fixed eyebrows, legs that don’t need much shaving.

3. List three personality features that other people have that you’re envious of. Confidence, independence... is privilege a personality trait lol?

4. Are you a jealous significant other? I can be. I don’t make a big deal about being jealous as much as I did two or three years ago anymore though.

5. Could you date someone who was really jealous? Gab can be a little jealous but for the most part it’s endearing because it’s never turned into abuse.

6. What celebrity’s looks do you envy the most? Audrey Hepburn.

7. Do you think anyone is envious of you? In your opinion, what characteristics (physical and mental) do you possess that you think someone might be envious of? Being in a long-term relationship, definitely. A lot of people my age want significant others so bad, and I know this because a good chunk of them post the same wish over and over on social media lol.

8. What are a few things you wish you were good at? Drawing, playing an instrument, dancing ballet, changing a car tire, COOKING.

9. Did you ever date someone, break up, and then see them dating someone very attractive a few days later? Were you jealous of that person? This has never happened to me.

10. When looking at a love interest’s exes, do you often find yourself jealous of their good-looking exes? I haven’t had to do this, because I was Gab’s first. I wouldn’t want to fixate on exes if I were in a different situation, though.

Sin 7: Pride 1. What’s something you brag about a lot (be honest–we all brag sometimes)? My school is easy bragging rights. Everybody wants to be in UP.

2. What physical features do you take the most pride in? My body figure in general. Also my fingers, legs, and jawline.

3. Are you satisfied with what you have? Yeah but as the above questions have made it clear, I can always use more money lol.

4. Be honest… when someone is telling you something, do you often change the subject so it’s about you and your accomplishments instead? NEVER. That’s one of the worst things anyone can do. I feel like I used to do this when I was younger, then it just hit me one day about how tasteless it can be so ever since then I’ve let other people hype themselves up and be excited about accomplishments or new things in their life as much as they want with me, as long as they aren’t being so conceited.

5. Do you like talking about your achievements? If I’m in a group and we started sharing our achievements then yeah I’d join in. But I wouldn’t bring it up if it wasn’t already being brought up. It’s better to let the accomplishments speak for themselves.

6. Do your parents tend to brag about how well you came out? My mom is definitely more ~braggier than my dad, but she’s never come off as an asshole about it. If she was, I’d pull her aside.

7. Do you strive to be better than others? Do you think competing with others is healthy? I keep a mindset of competing with others, but I keep it internal.

8. What do you do better than most people? See the little details. I’m always surprised at how most of the people I work with just look at the big picture – like how they don’t pay attention to the red squiggle under misspelled words on a group paper (or if they do see it, they don’t do anything about it), or how they don’t seem to care about proper spacing on a Powerpoint and proceed to just dump a bunch of text on one slide. Now this is something I can brag about too, cos a lot of people are just so not detail-oriented lol.

9. Do you believe in taking pride in things you can’t control (ex. being proud of your heritage, being proud of your skin color, being proud of your natural artistic ability)? I don’t see why that’s an issue.

10. Who are you competing with right now (it could be anything–classmates for a grade, co-workers for a position, other girl for a guy, etc.)? There’s no particular person, but like I said, I’m always in this perpetual mindset of wanting to compete with others just so I’m more motivated to perform well and get things done.

#survey #surveys #this was fun

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

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Philtatos [8/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/48475991

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #secrets

First Chapter

Author's Note: So the action scene I was writing became long and unwieldy and complicated, and threw off my planned chapter ending, so I had to put some filler. I hope you guys don't mind some Batfam chatter in its place. I'll try to get to the meaty action scene soon. ________________________________________________________________

Tim gets out of his shower at the Nest, reaching for his phone before his towel. The digital numbers tell him he hasn’t been away from the manor for more than an hour; Jason should still be okay.

When Tim left, the older man was sleeping like a log. He didn’t even stir when Tim tripped and accidentally knocked into his display of Gundam models. That’s a bit concerning—everyone in the family has been trained to sleep lightly and react to any inexplicable shift or creak in a room.

Clearly the infection’s taking it out of him…

He towels off, struggles into his gear and applies the spirit gum to keep his mask in place, then checks his phone again. Another ten minutes have passed.

It’s fine. Jason will be fine. There’s still time to get back.

He’s finding it a bit nerve-wracking, being Jason’s anchor; knowing that right now he’s the only one able to call back his mind if it meanders into self-destructive obsession. It constantly lingers on the edge of his mind that he can’t keep this up forever.

Eventually Jason will be beyond his reach if they don’t get the diviners back. And even if—when—they get them back, will Tim be able to just resume the way things were before?

He grips the edge of the counter beside the shower, forcing himself to breathe. He can’t let himself go there.

Table that problem until after Jason’s safe.

He straightens up and heads for the holding cell, where he finds Eros sitting cross-legged on his cot, wings out and hands wrapped around one of the edges of a painting Tim brought from upstairs. Insubstantial golden threads collect around his fingers and the canvas, like a spider’s web, but pulsing.

After several moments, the glow disappears, and Eros cracks an eye open. “Will wonders never cease—you let me finish this time.”

“You’re not leaving bodily fluids this time,” Tim retorts, and hurries to cut off whatever smart-ass comment is imminent. “We may have found the person who took your bow and arrows. We’re not a hundred percent sure, but it’s looking that way.”

Eros tosses the painting to one side, eyes gleaming. “That’s excellent news! Who was it?”

“Her name’s Carrie Cutter.”

“Never heard of her,” Eros says immediately.

Tim sighs, and brings up the holographic screen of his arm-computer; it projects a three-dimensional image of Cutter’s military file. A thin-faced woman with auburn hair and green eyes.

Eros blinks and then points a finger. “Hey! Clingy Redhead!”

Well, now that we have a definite connection…

“She also goes by Cupid,” Tim says, half-expecting to get another rant on appropriating the names of ancient Greek mythological figures.

Instead, Eros snorts and says, “Well, she’s welcome to the name, but I want my shit back.”

“How did she even manage to steal them from you to begin with?”

“I was really stoned?”

“You’re sure that’s all?” Tim presses. “There’s no way she could have had help from a god or someone who knows a lot about gods?”

Eros scratches his chin. “Well, I mean, anything’s possible.”

Tim rolls his eyes.

“Who in your family has a grudge against you?”

“Do you want the alphabetical or chronological list?”

“True. You’ve ticked off a lot of people in the past. From what I’ve read, things don’t really turn out all that well for the people you help.”

“I take offense to that!” Eros complains. “Any time I’ve genuinely joined souls fated to be together, there’s been nothing but happiness. The only time my matches have gotten twisted is when some divine prima donna gets their perizoma in a bunch and interferes.”

“Which brings us back to there probably being a god involved in all this. It would help to know which one.”

“There are usually signs, if you look hard enough for them.”

“What exactly do you think we’re trying to do?”

“No, I mean…” Eros folds his arms, thoughtful. “Every Olympian—every god that I’ve ever heard of, anyway—has a signature. Something they’re drawn to, habits that don’t just vanish over the centuries. Symbols they’re drawn to, whether they notice it or not.”

“We would have noticed in any of the crime reports by now.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It might be completely obscure. Like I said, we don’t always notice when we do it. If you find anything even resembling a pattern, let me know what it is. I might recognize it.”

“You didn’t recognize it when you were getting robbed.”

“I—was—stoned—!”

And that’s as far as we’re getting with that avenue.

Tim glances at his phone again; there’s still time. “Going back over everything again and trying to find symbols that might possibly be related? It might take longer than we have—I’m on a deadline here.”

“You could always just summon this Cupid woman.”

“If it were that easy, the government would have figured out how to do it ages ago. She’s trained specifically to avoid detection. There’s a reason we only found traces of her days after she’s been in a given location.”

“I don’t mean just pick up the phone and call her or satellite stalk her or whatever you capes do,” Eros dismisses, “I mean use the summoning spell for my bow and arrows.”

Silence rings.

I…did not just hear what I think I heard, did I?

Tim counts to ten. Twice. And then does it in Cantonese for good measure.

“I lose you there somewhere, pretty boy?”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Tim replies, expounding far more concentration that he should be keeping his voice level. “You just arbitrarily decide, ‘hey, you look sufficiently frustrated, so now I’ll come up with some pearl of wisdom I could have shared earlier’, don’t you?”

“Screw you, birdboy, I don’t make the rules!” Eros spits. “I’m not a Magic-Ball, here to answer you whenever you humans come a-knockin’. Do you have any idea how much trouble that caused way back when?” Eros adopts a falsetto. “Oh, high-crowned goddess of love, woe is me, I’m a rich and spoiled daddy’s boy and can’t get no respect! Please steal the heart of the most beautiful woman in the world for me! Oh, most feared goddess of retribution, the boy I like rejected me, so after I kill myself, make him fall in love with his reflection so he starves to death while feasting on the sight of himself!” Eros shoots Tim an irritated glare. “You really think we came up with that crap? Trust me, things were a hell of a lot worse when we just up and did everything for you. And then, when you hairless apes realized we weren’t giving you everything you wanted anymore, you stopped paying tribute to us and jumped on the hobo carpenter bandwagon.”

“I’m Jewish,” Tim replies, unimpressed with the tangent.

“Yeah, well, so was he. Anyway. Do you know how many Olympians have wasted away when people stopped believing in them? Point it, we had to get used to holding back. Give a human the answers without them having to work for it, and you get Hiroshima.”

“Fine, whatever,” Tim growls. “How do we summon the bow and arrow.”

“Weren’t you listening? A spell.”

“We’re not big on magic around here.”

“Tough noogies. Do you want to know what to do, or not?”

“Get on with it.”

“Right. So first, you need a rose—”

“A rose? Now I know you’re messing with me.”

“Roses are my symbol, asshat, and they act as an instrument of grounding when channeling my will,” Eros snaps, causing Tim to hold his hands up in surrender. “Right, so get a rose and sharpen its stem to a point. Get Helmet Head and join hands with him, and he has to say—”

“Hold on. Go back—Red Hood has to be here for this?” Tim interrupts. He’s not sure that’s a good idea, considering the circumstances.

“Of course he has to be there, he’s the key to making the spell work.” Eros says slowly, like he’s talking to someone intellectually slow. “He’s the one who desires you most in the world, which is a powerful spell component. And he’s the only one in the world right now that has my blood running in his veins. Since I can’t be let out of this glass cage of yours, he’s the only other choice.”

Tim rubs his temples; of the two options, Jason is better than letting Eros free. “And naturally there’s blood involved…”

“All magic has a price,” Eros agrees. “Now, you have to get him to speak these words—” He grabs one of the nearby magazines and a pen, then scrawls something on the cover, “—and then you have to pierce both your palms with the rose. Wait until the blood stops flowing, and then use what falls in place to mark my symbol in the earth.”

He shoves the magazine through the hatch in the wall, and Tim frowns at the note. “This doesn’t look like Greek.”

“It’s not. More proto-Greek. Close to what the Minoans spoke.”

“The problem here being that no one knows what the Minoans spoke, least of all us.”

“Tall, Dark and Angry can read it. Consider it a perk of being infected with my blood.”

“Maybe the only one,” Tim mutters.

“Once the spell is complete, it will act as a beacon or magnet that draws the diviners to the symbol. And thus the one wielding them, wherever they are.”

“No offense, but this is ridiculous. It’s like something out of an episode of Charmed.”

“For your sake I hope you’re talking about the original and not the remake,” Eros sniffs.

“If you always had this spell in your back pocket, why didn’t you cast it when you realized your bow and arrows were missing?”

Eros’ expression becomes cold marble again. “The one who desired me most in the world is gone, remember?”

Tim frowns. “You’re the god of love. You could get anyone to desire you.”

“It doesn’t work like that, darlin’,” Eros smiles bitterly. “There’s a special kind of person for that to work, to activate the power of my blood. Someone with pure conviction, and that’s a rare trait to find. By the time I might track down someone like that…well, let’s just say it’s lucky for everyone that your brawny boy toy got tagged, because he’s got it.”

Tim can’t really argue with that, because Jason has conviction in spades. Even years later, he has never wavered in his dedication to his own version of Bruce’s mission, even if it’s at odds with what Batman stands for. He has no qualms about crossing lines if he must, and still believes himself to be in the right.

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you that,” he allows grudgingly. “But that still leaves the problem of taking out Cutter herself. She’s no slouch, considering her training, and I doubt she’s going to want to give up her new toys without a fight.”

“What a shame you don’t know a bunch of people who regularly dress up in spandex and deal with this kind of thing all the time,” Eros drawls.

Tim rolls his eyes and wanders away and keys in Batman’s call sign to his comm. He knows Bruce isn’t going to like any of this, but he might be able to offer some perspective.

“B? You busy?”

“No.” The voice crackles in his ear. “Returning to Gotham now; I’m just over the Atlantic.”

“Find anything?”

“Yes. Your information on Cupid helped.”

“So did any other customer see her?” Tim asks.

“I don’t know. The coffeeshop has been shut down.”

Tim blinks, going over that information once more in his head. “What? Why?”

“Potential health concerns. Within the past week, three people fell into comas while visiting the shop,” Batman informs him. “There’s concern in the city of a possible outbreak.”

“That…wasn’t in any of my research.”

“The authorities only shut it down today, and the shop hasn’t been named in the media.”

“And how did knowing about Cupid help then?”

“I tracked down the barista. She remembered her.”

“So she was definitely there,” Tim says, breathing out in relief. Finally, something.

“Yes. And when I went to examine the scene, I found something on the bottom of a cup.”

“A…cup.”

“Yes. If there were an actual contagion spreading from the shop, chances are it would be passed via utensils or dishes.” Batman pauses, and then grants, “It took a while.”

“So what did you find?”

“A Svefnthorn.”

“A what?”

“An Asgardian formula to sink someone into a deep sleep. It’s their version of Stygian Sleep, but it wouldn’t work permanently on an Olympian. Different magic, different rules. But it would be strong enough to put something like Eros enough of a stupor that he wouldn’t notice the theft of his diviners.”

“And not many people would know that,” Tim muses.

“No.”

“I don’t know about you, B, but I’m leaning more and more toward the idea that Cupid’s got a god backing her.”

Tim gives a quick explanation of his conversation with Eros, as well as his method to track the bow and arrow.

“Convenient of him to mention it now,” Batman remarks in a neutral tone.

“That’s what I figured.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Figured that, too.”

“Wait until I return. We’ll decide how to make our move then. We need to be prepared—you can’t go into this blind.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, even though he doesn’t want to wait longer than he must. “See you when you get back.”

“Acknowl—”

Bruce’s comm suddenly cuts off, and Barbara’s voice snaps in his ear, “Red Robin, get back to Red Hood now.”

Tim’s heart leaps into his throat. “What happened? Is he okay? He’s supposed to be sleeping—”

“Well, he woke up. I was able to keep him on the line for about fifteen minutes before he stopped responding.”

Tim stumbles as he runs toward the garage. “Is he—?”

“He’s still putting out bio-signals. I sent Jeeves and Robin to check on him, but you need to be here yesterday.”

“On my way.”

For the second time in two days, Tim is racing toward the Batcave, a pit in his stomach.

I’m a moron. I shouldn’t have been away for so long. I should have called Bruce when I was already on the way, I should have just asked Eros questions without reacting, like I was trained to do, instead of bitching at him about a stupid spell. Get in, get the information, move on.

When he arrives at the manor, Alfred isn’t there to greet him, which sends alarm bells ringing in his mind. Taking the steps to the second floor two at a time, he doesn’t pause until he passes the bathroom outside of Bruce’s study.

Alfred is leaning over Damian, cleaning and dressing a bloody wound on the boy’s head.

“What the hell happened?” he demands, more breathless than he should be.

“Language, Master Timothy,” Alfred chides, unflappable as always. When Damian swears as he presses an alcohol swab to the wound, he adds, “And you too, Master Damian. I would rather this not need actual stitches.”

“I’ll live,” Damian snaps, jerking his head out of Alfred’s reach and glaring at Tim. “Todd’s losing it. He was becoming unruly again and Pennyworth and attempted to help him. Then he threw an alarm clock at me.”

“And you didn’t dodge it?” Tim cries, hurrying off.

“I was—I was attempting to shield Pennyworth from taking the brunt of it to the face!” Damian shouts after him, but Tim doesn’t dwell on something he would normally tease the boy about.

Now that he knows there’s nothing major, he needs to get to his room.

Tim returns to find Jason sitting on the floor in his room, pressing himself into the wall the same way he was doing with the holding cell. His fingers are in his hair, tugging at the strands in agitation; his entire scalp and forehead an angry red at the irritation and he’s knocking his head against the wall just shy of the force needed for a concussion.

Tim practically vaults over his bed to crouch in front of Jason, grabbing his hands away from his hair. He notices they’re bleeding, hangnails and dry skin picked and scratched open.

“Jason…Jason, I’m here. I’m sorry.” Jason’s expression loses some of its distant, frantic mania. “I had to speak to Eros. I really thought you’d still be asleep when I got back.” He swallows back the nauseous feeling creeping up his throat. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you call me?”

Jason blinks a few more times, clutching back at Tim’s hands as though to ground himself; it takes a bit before clarity returns to his eyes.

“I knew you were coming back,” he says shakily. “I mean…I did. But I didn’t? I couldn’t stop thinking you weren’t coming back. Even though I knew…” He trails off, gives a manic chuckle. “I mean, fuck, this is your room. This is your house, obviously you’d be coming back, but…” This time Tim can’t tell if the sound is meant to be a bitter laugh or choked sob. “I’m going crazy here, babybird.”

Cold, angry fury suffuses Tim’s body at how broken he sounds. At the fact that Jason Todd—the Robin he idolized, the one that’s always had to duck life’s hardest curveballs, the one that makes the hard decisions, who is supposed to be strong and fierce and good—is being reduced to this. Right before Tim’s eyes.

He’s vulnerable right now not because he actually trusts Tim, but because something is making him. Something is turning him into a victim.

At which point Tim makes a decision.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“We’re getting out of here,” Tim insists, trying to tug Jason to his feet.

“Uh, that’s probably one of your worse ideas,” the other man replies cautiously, resisting the pull. “I’ll be fine. I mean, you’re here now.”

Tim’s heart clenches.

“Yeah. Right now I’m here.” What happens the next time he leaves though? But seeing Jason’s reluctance, he sighs. “Okay, Jason, it’s your choice. We’ll stay here until B gets here. Should be a few hours still. You can recover, and then we’ll all go together.”

“Where?”

“I might have a way to get the bow and arrows. Tonight,” Tim explains. “B wants to wait until he gets here for back-up, but—”

Jason stumbles to his feet, practically dragging Tim up with him. “No way. Let’s go. Right now.”

“But you just said—”

“I know what I said, and I’m not waiting another minute if I don’t have to!” Jason snaps.

“But he was right, we probably will need back-up.”

“I’ve got all the back-up I need,” Jason insists, tugging Tim close by the shoulder, “Now come on, I need to get my helmet.”

⁂

Tim, paranoid freak that he is, isn’t keen on busting in on Cupid just the two of them and without an actual plan. Despite Jason’s confidence that they could easily take out someone like Carrie Cutter together, mystical weapons or not (and hell, he’s got mystical weapons too, if it comes down to it), Tim insists on being responsible and summons whatever Bats are still in the city to coordinate an actual impromptu sting.

Damian is already in the cave when they arrive, changing into his uniform. Jason grins at him. “No hard feelings about nearly braining you, right?”

“Tt. I look forward to you regaining all your faculties,” the kid retorts. “It will make beating you within an inch of your life that much more enjoyable.”

“Geeze, kid, you could just say you’re going to kill me. Fewer words.”

“Master Damian has already reached his weekly allotment of death threats,” Alfred remarks in a mild voice as he checks a line of tranquilizer rifles. “Any further instances and he will not be permitted to visit with Master Jonathan this weekend.”

Damian bristles at the word ‘permitted’ but doesn’t argue beyond a mutinous scowl.

Jason whistles appreciatively, both at the implicit power Alfred has over the kid (and let’s face it, the entire family), and the collection of sedatives laid out on the table. The concentrations range from human-sized targets to someone of Wonder Woman’s constitution. Since there’s no way of knowing whether Cupid intends to show up alone or with her divine ringer, Tim maintained that it was better to be safer than sorry.

Jason is eager to get out, tired of waiting and antsy. His skin itches, which has been a symptom ever since this whole infection thing began. As he rubs at his neck, he tries not to feel like he’s being pulled in a million different directions. He wants so many things right now—a fight where he doesn’t have to hold back, a cold shower, to sleep for eight hours, to run his fingers through Tim’s hair—

Jason shakes himself.

At least one of those things is imminent, so he decides to focus on that.

Finding Carrie Cutter and taking her out. Getting Eros’ diviners so he can get himself back to his normal level of screwed-up. Leaving Gotham in his rear-view long enough that he won’t have trouble looking anyone in the eye for a wile.

That he won’t have trouble looking Tim in the eye for a while.

The cave seems less claustrophobic this time around.

Jason attributes that to the fact he’s not locked in a giant glass box like a creature at a zoo. Also, the conspicuous lack of looming disapproval that is Bruce Wayne.

“Remember, Jason—non-lethal,” Tim says as Jason they both go through the routine gear and weapons’ check before suiting up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason replies, reaching around Tim to grab a few extra flash grenades; he doesn’t need to draw his arm along the length of Tim’s shoulders, or lean into him a half second longer than acceptable, but it’s a small comfort after his recent attack of paranoia. “Not like B would have left anything capable of doing actual lasting damage, since my stuff’s been sitting out here nice and open the past few days.”

“Lethal and doing lasting damage are two different things.”

“Not in B’s mind.”

“He knows there’d be no point to removing or tampering with your things. You have enough caches around Gotham to replace anything he might take.”

Jason shoots him a suspicious glance. “And how do you know that?”

Tim smirks at him, and Jason’s heart stutters.

That expression’s been turned on him before, but usually he’s just done something to piss the other vigilante off. This time, it’s almost conspiratorial, like he and Jason are in on the same joker. And holy hell, that should not be as hot to him as it is.

Eros’ blood. Supernatural roofie. I wouldn’t actually think so under normal circumstances.

But a niggling thought at the back of his head thinks that even once he gets cured, his mind is going to go directly back to that if Tim ever turns that look on him again.

The sound of tires squealing against stone and metal grating echo in the cave, and everyone looks up to watch Batgirl peel in the cave on her bike.

“Hey guys,” Blondie says, dismounting her bike and grinning at them. “I heard we were throwing ourselves headfirst into trouble?”

“That’s not what I said,” Tim mutters from his spot at the computer, scrolling rapidly through several different satellite images of Gotham.

“It’s what I heard.” She turns her gaze on Jason, surveying him with pursed lips. “Why is the homicidal maniac out of his cage?”

“Steph!”

“I’m not a maniac,” Jason informs her.

“I notice you don’t argue the homicidal part.”

“I don’t lie about important stuff. Unlike some people in this room.”

“Everyone in this cave lies for a living.”

“Not me. You’re the ones who are so concerned about secret identities. I died, remember?”

“Who here hasn’t?”

“Not you, from what I hear.”

“Six minutes dead is still dead.”

“Try six months.”

“Try almost a year and a half,” Damian cuts in.

“Is this really the time to play Who-Was-Dead-Longest game?” Tim asks, shooting an exasperated look in their direction. Jason’s pretty sure it’s mostly directed at Blondie, but he still feels a measure of guilt.

“It’s really not,” Dick’s voice carries down the stairs from the upper level. He dismounts, cape flowing behind them and fixes them with a disapproving look. “And if you can’t get along, we’re not doing this tonight. We’re already a man down since Cass is still in Hong Kong and Babs has Duke en route to Greece.”

“Greece?” Tim turns away from the computer, confused.

Debating for a moment whether it’s something he wants to share or not, Jason decides to fill everyone else in on what Barbara told him.

Tim’s expression becomes dark. “I’m liking this entire situation less and less with every passing hour.”

“Tell me about it,” Dick sighs. “I still think we should wait. This is an op we shouldn’t run without Batman.”

“You’re already here,” Tim points out.

Dick frowns at him. “Very funny. You know what I mean.”

“Screw that,” Jason interrupts. “I’m not waiting for him to drift on in here. He won’t get here for hours and I want this done now.”

“We have to do something,” Tim agrees. “Not just because of what’s going on with Jason, but the longer Cupid’s out there, the more likely she’s continuing her murder spree.”

“Planet don’t stop spinning just because B isn’t in Gotham. People all over the world gotta do shit without relying on him to show up. I know I’ve learned not to hold my breath.”

“Jason!” Dick and Tim chorus, shooting him disapproving looks.

“That attitude is why you will ever be the disgrace,” Damian sniffs. “I agree with Richard. This is a bad idea.”

“You’re right. You should stay here,” Tim says.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Drake!”

The kid looks about two seconds away from stomping his foot.

“He’s messing with you, Dami. If he didn’t actually need you, you wouldn’t be here,” Blondie offers.

The kid scowls. “I do not need you to coddle me, Brown. I am aware of Drake’s methods, basic as they are.”

“We don’t know the timeframe we’re working with,” Tim goes on, getting up from his place at the computer and approaching Dick with a mulish expression. “Jason could be fine for the next five hours until B gets here, or he could progress to the next stage of the infection. Despite monitoring his symptoms, there doesn’t seem to be a standard rate of mental decay, and that’s thrown off by outside factors anyway. We still don’t know what all-out succumbing to this could look like.”

“And I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to,” Jason adds.

“Also, let’s not forget who was advocating using Stygian Sleep the last time Jason’s condition declined sharply.”

Dick shoots Tim a betrayed look. “Excuse me for not wanting to watch my brother rip himself to pieces in front of me.”

“No, you’d rather send my soul directly to Hell, or Hades, or wherever,” Jason deadpans. “’Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200’.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Oh, excuse me—temporarily send my soul directly to Hell, or Hades, or wherever. There’s a distinction. Excuse me if I’m more confident with Tim’s idea.”

“You don’t get a vote; you’d be confident about anything Tim proposed, even if it involved a Box-and-Stick Trap,” Damian interjects.

“Would not,” Jason mutters, although he thinks if anyone could make something as obvious as that work, it would probably be Tim. “I’m confident about Tim because since this whole thing’s started he’s done the most to help me through it, instead of keeping my locked in a box.”

“You wanted to be locked up!”

“Before Tim figured out, I didn’t need to be, as long as he was around!”

“Wait, what?” Steph asks, looking between the two. “This part I missed.”

“And he did that even after all the shit I’ve put him through, which is more than I can say for—”

“Don’t accuse anyone here of not trying to help you,” Dick snaps. “Damian and I have been spending overtime on patrol all week trying to track Cupid. Duke is on his way to Greece right now to follow a lead that might have nothing to do with any of this just because you and Babs have a theory. Even Steph’s put all her cases on hold to be here tonight.”

Jason pauses, somewhat caught off guard because he hadn’t known that bit of information. Then he crosses his arms defensively. “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask her to. Blondie doesn’t even like be—barely knows me.”

“Since when does that matter in this Family, you giant idiot?” Blondie grumbles.

“Jay, you’d be less surprised about everyone willing to help you if you didn’t try to keep yourself apart from everyone all the time,” Dick concludes with a sigh. “That’s at least one silver lining to all this. You’re finally letting someone in—even if it’s just Tim right now.”

He reaches out to clap a hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“Hey! Hands off!” Jason snarls, shoving Dick away and pulling Tim toward him. It’s not done violently or in a manner meant to hurt him, but this time Tim does go stiff in his arms. The three other vigilantes immediately move like they’re about to spread out around them, expressions as a serious as if they need to diffuse a bomb.

Jason’s wits return, and he quickly releases his hold on the smaller man. “Sorry.”

Blondie looks between the two of them, mouth gaping a bit. “Damn. They weren’t kidding. That’s one hell of a one-eighty you pulled there, Hood.”

“Personally, I preferred him trying to kill Drake instead of grope him.”

“Damian!” several voices protest, but the kid looks unrepentant.

“Dick, just listen to me,” Tim implores, cheeks flushed with obvious embarrassment over the situation. “I have a plan.”

The man in the cowl continues to look wary, but they’ve all worked with Tim long enough to respect when he has a plan. Eventually, he relaxes and nods, indicating he’s listening.

Tim outlines everything, starting with finding a suitable location. Summoning Cupid to the Cave isn’t going to happen, since they can’t compromise its location, and they can’t be too close to the city either. If Roy’s stories are anything to go by, Carrie Cutter has never been choosy when it comes to collateral damage.

“And if what Eros is saying is true, gods are like that but with more firepower,” Tim says. “We still don’t know who’s backing Cupid.”

“Feathers had no idea?”

“Apparently the list of people he’s pissed off starts with us and goes around the block twice.”

“I’m so surprised.”

Tim has chosen a strategically promising position that will be empty at this time of night, with enough natural cover that they can easily stay out of sight until needed. The downside is it’s worryingly close to the part of Robinson Park that Poison Ivy’s claimed as her own.

“I don’t like it,” Dick says. “Not your plan—most of it’s sound. But that last bit. Anything that draws Ivy’s attention while we’re doing this could go badly for us.”

“On the contrary, I’m pretty sure it would work out. We know better than to cause intentional harm to the flora in the area; Cupid doesn’t. And since when she fights, she doesn’t care what she destroys, she’s more likely to draw Poison Ivy’s attention than we are.”

“Or she could be in one of those moods where she decides she hates men and the only one who makes it out alive is Blondie,” Jason points out.

“I’m okay with that,” she pipes up helpfully.

Tim rolls his eyes. “Ivy likes me. We have an understanding.”

“I call bullshit,” Jason shoots back.

“No, really. I calculate a high probability that if she sees me there she’ll focus her attention on what she considers to be the greatest threat to her plants, giving all of us a chance to retreat if necessary.”

“Oh yeah? And what gives you that certainty?”

“Well, she kissed me and I’m not dead,” Tim says. “Considering the number of guys she’s left for dead that way…Jason? Are you okay?”

“I’ll kill her,” Jason growls, a murderous rage suddenly suffusing his entire body. “If she comes anywhere near you, I’m going to string you up with her own vines and feed her pesticides until she rots.”

There’s a heavy silence, and everyone is staring at him, once again like a rapid animal about to spring. Jason blinks, running over his last words, and shakes his head, feeling suddenly dizzy and drained.

“Sorry,” he says. “That came out of nowhere.” He tries to explain it to Tim. “I just—”

“No, uh…it’s fine.”

Jason scowls. “I could learn to hate that word.”

“Me too,” Dick says darkly. “If you can’t control yourself in the field, maybe you should stay here.”

“Not happening,” he insists, at the same time Tim cries, “No!”

“Tim, come on, you just saw—”

“If we leave him here alone and locked up he could hurt himself if we’re gone for a long time. Besides, my plan calls for all of us and the chances of success diminish exponentially with fewer people.”

“Then we’ll call in Selina, or Kate, or Helena or—”

“On holiday in Austria, temporarily out of commission, undercover,” Tim rattles off.

“Then call in the Titans—”

“They still wouldn’t get here right away and then we might as well wait for B,” Tim snaps. “Dick, we’ve been standing here arguing for ten minutes and look what he’s done to his hands.” He reaches over and grabs hold of Jason’s right hand, holding it up to show the bloody mess of picked and scratched skin.

Damn it. I didn’t even realize I was doing that.

The immediacy of the sight at least seems to finally convince Dick of Tim’s argument, because his shoulders slump and he says, “Tell me the rest of your plan.”

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

This blog isn’t my primary, so my reblogs don’t show up very well. As such, please reblog the fic, otherwise not a lot of people are going to see it :)

<3 Violet

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diyunho · 7 years ago

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The Joker x Reader - “The Work Wife” Part 3

You’ve been working for The Joker for the past 10 years: you speak and act for him and no matter the circumstances, Y/N is always there to take care of everything he needs. The King of Gotham might not be married, yet he has a perfect partner: his work wife.

Part 1 Part 2 (Part 3 as voted HERE) Part 4 Part 5

5 months later

“Are you just gonna sit there the whole time?” The Joker splashes the water in the Jacuzzi while you look outside, not even hearing his words. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“Oh, I’m watching everything to make sure it’s safe,” you finally pay attention and analyze the surrounding buildings from behind the smoky windows belonging to the second floor of “Serenity Day SPA”; it’s one of the businesses J owns, primarily operated for money laundering. The rooms upstairs are never used by anybody else except him: he seldom visits and actually uses the amenities since the place is very luxurious.

“We have 15 men with us, I think we’re OK. Come on, lose the suit and relax,” The King of Gotham requests your presence in the hot tub because you seem absent minded today.

“I’m good,” you mumble and continue to search for any signs of suspicious activity out there even if so far nothing seems out of the ordinary.

“You know how much I hate to extend my invitations twice,” he watches you take a deep breath and gaze his way.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you come up with the easy excuse and J gestures towards the variety of dressers containing bathing suits, swimming shorts, towels and fuzzy robes.

“Use theirs!”

“Ughh,” the exasperation reaches his ears and it’s not approved.

“Maybe one of these days you could just, you know, drop the attitude?! Only a mere suggestion; don’t lemme stop you from annoying me!” The Joker growls as you choose a random attire and start changing behind the panel as fast as you can, hoping he will shut up.

“Don’t lemme stop you from annoying me” speech is usually between 10--15 minutes long and you are certainly lacking any eagerness to put up with it.

“Why do I have to get in there?” you protest his orders and emerge into a floral bikini bottom with the matching bra.

“Because,” J huffs and completely lowers himself in the bubbly water for a few seconds, then gazes your way. “I must say Y/N, you look decent for a fossil.”

“I’m not a fossil!”

“You turned 36 last month. Basically ancient for my scaling system,” J taunts and smooths his wet hair, thinking that the usual extra feistiness is not present within his work wife today. You step in the Jacuzzi, half afloat until you reach his side.

“Your scaling system sucks, that’s why you don’t have a steady girlfriend,” you lift one of your eyebrows in order to underline the accurate reality.

“I only need company that takes care of my needs for the night; you take care of the rest so I’m fine,” he pauses and waits for the sour remarks to continue but they don’t.

You’re awfully quiet, definitely preoccupied by more important matters than the usual dispute he’s searching for.

“What’s the matter?” J elbows a distracted Y/N.

“Today…” and your voice cracks,” today is Kai’s birthday.”

That’s why she’s like this, he thinks and moves closer to you.

“Wow, the first snowflakes,” you sadly smile and change the subject because you feel you’re suffocating.

“Yeah, I like winter,” he adds on the topic in his usual way of dealing with things. “Much easier to get rid of dead bodies.”

“So charming,” you candidly reprimand. “That’s why women are flocking from all sides; one better than the other.”

“Precisely,” the insolent Joker is glad you’re getting absorbed into his little game; it kind of feels a major part of his daily life is missing if you two don’t clash and he’s aware he has to put in extra work today in order to obtain the desired outcome.

“Please enlighten me so I can prove a point: when is the last time you went on a date?” you turn towards him, interested in what he has to say.

“Ummm… three nights ago,” J immediately replies.

“One night stand is not a date! As usually, I had to get rid of her in the morning and I’m getting tired of taking out the trash,” you scoff, irritated. “You should have kept the girlfriend you had two years ago; she wasn’t bad.”

“I got bored,” he dismisses your suggestion and stretches his legs under water while you have more to include on top of the earlier statement:

“It’s exciting to see you’re satisfied with bimbos that think you have a stamp collection to show them at the penthouse or drunken ones that you marry on a whim at the sham drive-thru chapels around town.”

“Yes, it is exciting indeed,” The Joker winks and Y/N is done with his crap.

“You know what J ?!!”

Oh boy, here she goes! J grins because he’s getting what he wanted:

“You know what J ”speech is usually between 8--14 minutes long and by far his favorite; you usually blur out a list of judgments about his behavior that you don’t agree with and it falls on deaf ears, yet it’s worth it.

“Mister J,” Frost suddenly knocks at the opened door. “Sorry to interrupt but the weather forecast is showing an imminent snow storm about to hit Gotham in less than 3 hours. Traffic will be hectic since everyone would want to finish what they have to do before roads are closed. Would you like to leave now in order to avoid that?”

The Clown Prince of Crime smacks his lips, debating:

“I suppose so,” then addresses you: “Hold that thought, Y/N! You know how much I love to hear your opinions,” the sarcastic smirk makes you shake your head in annoyance. “I guess is better if we bail than having to deal with the craziness on the streets. Tell the crew we’re out of here in 10!”

“Yes sir!” Frost complies and you discern the shouted instructions on his way downstairs.

“Right when I was getting comfortable,” J sighs and sinks under the fizzy water one last time while you’re already getting out of the Jacuzzi.

“You can continue at the Penthouse,” you remind the King of Gotham he actually has the same hot tub at home.

“I guess I can,” the grouchy voice mumbles.

The Joker watches as you dry yourself with a towel, his eyes lingering on the only tattoo you have: the Japanese kanji rows inked on your back containing the phrase you’ve been using for years as an inside joke.

He stalls leaving the steamy ambience for a few more seconds before finally abandoning his temporary oasis.

You switch back to your black suit behind the bamboo panel and come out to help him finish up. The white, furry winter coat is placed on his shoulders while J elects to modify the plan:

“Y/N, I want to spend some time at my cabin instead of returning to the Penthouse.”

“Are you sure?” you start walking beside him, surprised at his choice. “With the snow storm you’ll be trapped there for days.”

“It’s fine; I’ll have you to keep me company,” J brushes off any projects you might have like he always does.

“I rather stay at my apartment.”

“No, you’re coming.”

“Seriously J, I don’t want to be dragged in the middle of nowhere. I like that place in the summer and that’s pretty much it,” you try to make him forsake his ideas and pay attention to the stairs you’re both descending.

“I’ll let you know when I give a damn,” The Joker scoffs, signaling some of the men waiting along for his passing to follow.

The door leading towards the secluded parking lot on the north side of the building is already opened and you walk outside, mad he doesn’t care you’re not in the mood to visit that accursed cottage during the crazy weather that will soon hit the area.

Two henchmen are already waiting by their cars and you slowly blink for a few seconds, feeling the snowflakes melting on your face. The faint sound of the bullet shrieks by your ear and you instinctively turn towards J, his eyes already looking down at the fresh wound that’s beginning to stain the white coat.

“What the..?!” he touches the blood in disbelief, suddenly out of breath. You are quick to push him against the nearest SUV, screaming at the others:

“Sniper!!! Get down!”

The goons already outside scatter behind the cars in the parking lot and you help The Joker sit on the ground and press on the oozing injury, the red spot exponentially growing each time he forcefully inhales.

“Shit…” he moans and you gesture at the men that didn’t make it out of the building, including Frost.

“Stay inside! There’s a sniper!!”

“What do we do?” Jonny yells and you shout back:

“Everybody regroup inside!! Stay low and sneak out through the other side of the property! Go in groups of 3 and sweep the surrounding places, maybe we can catch whoever did this! Take the rest of the team and call for reinforcements!”

“You need help?” Frost peeks from behind the curtains, ready to aid if required.

“I’m OK, I don’t need an escort!”

You open the car door and help The Joker crawl in the back seat; he’s wheezing louder and louder due to the painful lesion.

“Keep pressure on it!” you gather his coat around the wound as much as you can, this way it soaks up the blood. “I’ll take you to the doctor; just hang in there, alright?” an apparent composed Y/N creeps on the driver’s side, twisting the keys in the contact.

“It fucking hurts,” J groans and his acknowledgment makes your heart beat faster:

The Joker has a high tolerance for pain so if he says that it hurts, it means the discomfort is beyond what a normal person would be able to tolerate.

“Hang tight!” you begin to drive, keeping close to the concrete wall enclosing the parking lot, watching him through the rear view mirror. “I’ll take the back streets,” you mumble and immediately accelerate, taking a sharp turn once the protection of the wall is over. The tires screech under the abrupt impact and you speed towards Madison Avenue, having to distance yourselves from the shooting range as soon as possible.

“How are you doing?” you gaze at him and the only answer is a growl.

The Joker’s teeth are clenched together; he couldn’t say a word even if he’d wanted to.

You nervously squeeze the steering wheel, paying attention to the road again.

“I think I can make it there under 40 minutes,” the affirmation makes him shiver: the pain is becoming so unbearable he feels he’s going to pass out.

Another turn on Coldwell Boulevard and the last thing J hears prior to losing consciousness is Y/N’s warning:

“Hey, don’t fall asleep!”

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

The Joker gradually opens his eyes, trying to adjust to reality. You’re sleeping in the recliner close to his bed and the venue seems familiar: it’s the same private clinic you were taken after the unfortunate events that left such a deep scar on your cheek. He’s groggy and a bit confused, a typical secondary side effect of all the medications present in his body.

“Nurse…” J whispers and has to gather his strength to say it louder since you didn’t hear him. “Nurse! Wake up!”

This time the exhausted Y/N promptly snaps out of her troubled dreams, gasping when she realizes The King of Gotham is glaring her way.

“You’re awake,” you jump out of the recliner and move close to him, so happy to see he’s out of danger you actually smile.

A rare occurrence these days.

“Why are you wearing scrubs?” J licks his lips and you reach for the cup of iced water on the cupboard, offering some to the patient.

“We’ve been here for 2 days: it’s easier to blend in, just in case,” you explain while waiting for him to finish drinking.

“What’s the verdict?” he taps his fingers on the pillow, seeking your company for the requested briefing. You lie down next to him and relay the main points to the weakened Joker:

“By the time we arrived, you’ve already lost a lot of blood. You had a clean wound: the bullet went right through; almost pierced your kidney, only half an inch away from disaster. They couldn’t stop the bleeding and I was scared you’re not going to make it,” you gulp and touch his face, upset it was such a close call.

“Why? Were you afraid you’ll be unemployed?”

“Basically. You pay well.”

“True,” J utters. “Do we know who did it?”

You remove your hand, the immediate change in attitude making him aware you’re displeased.

“So we do know,” he figures, wondering why you look at him like that.

“Yes.”

Perfect silence; you are flustered, that’s for sure.

“Well?” J yawns, tired and drained.

“Do you remember your last flame? The one I got rid of 5 days ago?”

No answer. Because he can kind of tell where this is heading.

“Apparently, she didn’t like that you threw her away the next morning so she did something about it. Thank God she can’t aim that well, I’m sure she tried for the head.”

J is speechless since he was expecting a different outcome.

“The Great Joker, taking down by one of his one night stands. How stupid is that?!” you hiss and try to calm down the urge to strangle him.

“That is quite stupid, my reputation would be ruined,” he tries to joke since he knows he’s going to hear about it forever. “Is it fair to assume she’s not around anymore?”

“I made sure,” you frown, scooting closer to him again. “If you were planning to sleep with her again, she’s not available.”

He grabs your waist, loving the bitter expression written all over your being.

“Any other news?” he changes the subject, delighted you’re so worked up.

You cut him some slack for the moment, sharing your observations:

“I think one of the nurses likes you. She keeps on lifting your hospital gown, checking out the area.”

“Probably to see if I need my bandages changed,” J grins, satisfied with the little confession.

“Or maybe checking out your components,” you honestly reply.

“Components!” he chuckles and regrets it the next second: the sore wound is definitely there.

The door opens and you grumble in a low voice:

“That’s her, that’s the nurse.”

“Quickly, fix my hair,” The Joker demands and you comb the green locks with the tip of your fingers. “How do I look?”

“Like crap,” you sigh, unable to repair too much due to the present misfortune.

“Dammit,” he completely covers the both of you with the sheet, shielding the intimacy of the discussion from any prying ears.

“Miss Y/N, it’s not safe to be this close to a recovering patient with a raw injury. There’s the risk of infection. Could you please go back to your recliner?” the woman requests out of concern for the medical staff’s own safety: she knows that if something happens to The Clown Prince of Crime while under their care, they will pay for the consequences.

“Make me!” you sneer from under the covers, irritated with her plea.

“Yeah, make her!” J growls also and it’s a red flag for the nurse to leave before one of you snaps. The care giver leaves some medications on the cabinet, planning to return later.

“Try not to contaminate me,” he pouts and you roll your eyes. “I already sacrificed a lady’s interest in me by siding with the competition.”

“You’re so full of it,” you kick his knee, careful not to touch the stitched laceration.

He has no clue how much it terrified you that he almost died on Kai’s birthday; it would have been unbearable to think each year at the same date about two men you care about no longer around.

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

After 3 weeks

The Joker was released from the clinic yesterday and went straight to the cabin in the Willow Woods, hauling a vexed work wife with him against her will. You sure detest the place in the winter time; there are days it snows so much you can’t even walk to the shed to restart the generator. But he said the fresh air will make his recovery a piece of cake and for once you didn’t argue with the bullshit reason.

You are so worn out after taking care of J 24/7 that the tempest going on outside doesn’t bother you. Y/N dozed off one hour ago and the strong wind sweeping the wilderness slams branches, snow and frozen leaves against the windows.

A strand of your hair is being tugged by the crabby King of Gotham; he has insomnia and of course he sneaked into your bedroom after drinking 2 cups of chamomile tea that did absolutely nothing.

“Y/N, are you awake?”

You barely make eye contact, the brain fuzzy from all the restlessness you dealt with in the past weeks.

“My back is stiff,” The Joker indirectly implies a massage would be more than welcomed.“Did you hear me?” he pokes your shoulder when you nap again.

“Why won’t you let me rest?” you finally blur out, wishing you were at your apartment and not in the boonies at the cottage you can’t stand.

“I can’t work out for a while and my bones are cracking every move I make. Plus, I can’t sleep because your dumb tea didn’t work. Are you gonna do anything about it or not?!” he loses patience describing his hardships to the woman that should know all about them.

“Don’t nag me!” the unexpected response containing what J usually throws at you makes him search his mind for a sour admonishment.

In the meantime, you get on your knees and slap his side so he can turn face down, beginning to rub his back along the dragon tattoo since he won’t quit bugging you.

“That feels awesome,” he grunts when your hands work around the tight muscles keeping him up at this hour of the night.

“Jesus, one knot after the other!” you blur out frustrated, trying to relax the stubborn tissue under his skin.

“Told you I‘m stiff; I wasn’t lying. Keep going,” he motivates the grumpy Y/N. “Aren’t you happy that you still have a boss to take care of?”

He senses your fingers stopping, then restarting and something that sounds like sniffling.

“Are you crying?” the muffled question arises from under the pillows.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your fleece pajamas, watching the flames in the fireplace crackling in the darkness. The Joker reaches his left hand backwards and grabs yours, pulling you next to him again. There’s no resistance from your part and his face moves on top of the cushions again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” you bite your cheek and refuse to say more on the topic.

You don’t really have to though; The Clown Prince of Crime is neither stupid or blind.

“I’m still here old girl,” he emphasizes due to his twisted desire to get you out of your misery while still being a jerk.

“I’m not old,” you defend your 36 years of existence like you always do.

“According to my standards you are,” the silver teeth maliciously glisten 2 inches away from Y/N’s lips.

“Your standards are pure crap,” you sulk and he wraps your arms around his neck, compromising at last:

“Probably…” and your sudden kiss takes him by surprise and in the same time it doesn’t.

That’s new, The Joker thinks and enjoys the opportunity of making out with the feisty Y/N that clings to him so tight he cannot move.

“I think I’m still out of commission,” he purrs in between kisses and you couldn’t care less.

“That’s fine,” you smile and give him a second to catch his breath.

“Wait…Wait…” J carefully debates. “Ummm…On the brighter side, I believe we might be in luck but you’ll have to do the hard work giving my present situation.”

“That’s fine too,” you accept his proposal and lean over to whisper:

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

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

7 months later

“Did you get what I asked for?” The Joker barks at the smuggler that’s taking too long searching the metal crates from the last shipment received yesterday.

“Yes, Mister Joker, just one moment. I know it’s in here, I saw it myself.”

“I don’t have a moment!” the impatient King of Gotham retaliates and the dealer picks up the pace, relieved to finally discover the item buried inside the box.

“Here you go Mister Joker,” something resembling a booklet is being handed to J.

The opulent wedding ring beaded with purple and green diamonds stands out on The Joker’s finger and the smuggler’s eyes get big.

“Oh, you got married Mister Joker?!”

“Yeah, two days ago,” he gets ready to bail since he’s late for his own honeymoon trip to Las Vegas.

“Congratulations!” the guy has nothing better to do than offer his best wishes.

“Why??” J’s mood switches for the worse. “You think I got a good bargain out of it?! I didn’t !! She’s been nagging me for 11 years; I just made it official !”

“I’m sorry Mister Joker,” another wrong reply escapes the dealer’s lips.

“Why are you sorry, hm?” the pissed Prince of Crime raises his voice. “You think I can’t handle my own wife?!”

You are waiting for J next to your car, playing with the bottom of your short summer dress. There was certainly a commotion going on until a few moments ago when the noises stopped; you’re about to check on it but J is coming out of the building, brushing pieces of glass off his clothes.

“What happened?” you inquire.

“I got you a present,” he avoids replying and gives you the booklet.

“What is this?” you open it, confused. Nothing but a bunch of stamps neatly organized inside.

“A stamp collection, Y/N! You always complained that when I brought girls at the Penthouse I said I have a stamp collection to show them when in the matter of fact I didn’t. So I fixed the issue: these are actual stamps I can show them; very valuable: I paid one hundred thousand dollars!” he boasts in front of an annoyed Mrs. Joker.

“No girls, no stamps!” you flip the expensive collection straight into the trash can near you.

“Wha’… What are you doing?!”

“No girls, no stamps!” you repeat, urging him to get in the vehicle.

“How dare you?!“ he has an outburst that you don’t pay attention to. “You’re fired!”

“No I’m not,” you calmly go around the car since you’re the designated driver for the vacation. “Come on, get in,” you reach from the driver’s side to open the other door for him. ”Traffic will be horrible across the Bridge of Angels. We have to leave,” you pat the passenger’s seat and J is hesitating. “You really don’t need that stamp collection; you have me.”

“Pfft,” he huffs and enters the car, not wanting to admit to himself that his work wife is right.

Actually work wife and wife.

No matter what anyone says, now there’s finally no difference.