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falcqns · 4 years ago

Text

partner in crime lV

pairing: August Walker x Reader, August Walker x OFC (Maeve)

summary: August attempts a mission and looks for a nanny.

warnings: ANGST, mentions of graphic death, fluff, mentions of character death, mention of harm inflicted upon an infant. 18+ ONLY.

a/n: This one got a little dark, sorry! Hope you enjoy! also if I missed ANYTHING in the warnings, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I have mom brain so it wouldn't surprise me if I forgot something!

August hung up the phone with a sigh.

Sloane needed him for a mission.

It wasn’t a high risk mission or anything, Sloane had taken him off of those when he’d informed her he’d be taking Maeve in, but August was still nervous. He didn’t really have friends, and the friends he did have were coming on the mission with him. He had no contact with his mother, his father was dead, and he had no siblings.

He had no one to watch Maeve. He sighed, and flopped his body down on the bed, being careful to avoid the sleeping baby just inches from him. He didn’t know what to do. Sloane said she’d watch her, but she was needed at the Capitol, so his only option was his mother.

He still had her phone number, and she still had his, but he was still nervous. He found her number in his contacts, not under any name, just a number, but he knew it was hers. He took a deep breath, and hit ‘call’.

She answered after the fourth ring. “August?” She said, in a rather monotone voice.

“Hello mom.” He said hesitantly. He heard a slight laugh on the other side of the phone.

“I’m guessing you need something. You never call me.” She said, and August swallowed the lump in his throat, sparing a glance at Maeve.

“Yeah, I do. I um-” He took a deep breath to try and stop the shakiness in his voice. “I have a daughter.” He said simply, and when there was no response, he continued. “I-I only found out about her 2 weeks ago. Her mother died, and I’m all she has left. But, I have to go on a mission, and I don’t have anyone else to watch her. I was wondering if you could.”

“Of course I can.”

August let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you. I know you and I aren’t on the best of terms, but I have to leave tomorrow night and I haven’t found a nanny yet.” He said.

His mother laughed breathily. “August, I know I wasn’t the best mother to you, and I apologize for that. It’s one of the biggest regrets of my life, pushing you away. If I can make it better, then I want to. And she’s my granddaughter. It’s my job to be there and help you.” She said, and August felt a tear drip down his face.

“Thank you, mom.” He said, a smile breaking onto his lips.

“You’re so welcome Auggie.” His mother said warmly and full of love, a tone and nickname he hadn’t heard since his father was still alive.

August took a shaky breath. He was fully packed for the mission, and his mother was almost there. He knew Maeve would be perfectly fine without him for a day or two, but he didn’t know if he would be. What if she had a trauma meltdown while he was gone, and his mom didn’t know how to handle it? What if something happened to her, and he couldn’t get there quick enough? He’d never be able to live with himself if something terrible happened to her. Despite going into this agreement of taking in Maeve with pity for her situation rather than love for her, she had a hold on his heart, and their bond was the strongest one August had ever had.

To be honest? Maeve had become his reason for getting up in the morning. It used to be his job, but when Anais walked through his door with Maeve in her arms, that little girl became his reason to live. Finding out who hurt Maeve’s mom was a top priority. He couldn’t let his little girl down.

Although he hated to think about it, or admit it, he knew that one day, Maeve would ask what happened to her mother. She’d probably ask him her first day of school.

He could just imagine her on a crisp September morning, a little dress on her body, running shoes on her feet, and her curly hair in two little braids. A backpack practically the size of her on her back, and her eyes full of excitement. He could see her bounding up to him in the school yard after her first day, and the first sentence out of her mouth.

‘Daddy, why don’t I have a mommy like everyone else in my class?’

His breath caught in his throat merely at the imagery. What would he tell her? He wasn’t religious, so telling her that her ‘mommy is up in heaven’ would mess with both of their minds, and his moral compass. How do you explain to a child, any child, that their mother is dead, and you didn’t know why?

A knock at the door pulled him from his reverie, followed by a squeal from Maeve who was playing at his feet. He stood up, and pulled her up to sit on his hip. He took a deep breath, and the father daughter duo made their way to the door to greet his mother.

He opened the door, and there stood his mom. She still looked the same, with a few more wrinkles, and a few more grey hairs. The only thing that was different was the warm smile sitting on her lips.

“Hi Auggie.” She said tentatively, and August smiled back. “Hi mom. Come on in.” He said, and she followed him inside the apartment. She looked around in an amazement at his rather large apartment.

“Your place is beautiful, honey.” She said, and August smiled again.

“Thank you. We recently moved because she needed her own room and playroom and my one bedroom bachelor pad wasn’t cutting it.” he explained, and him and his mom shared a laugh, the first one in many years.

He showed her around the living room, kitchen, his bedroom, her bedroom, the bathrooms, the office, and the both balconies. He dropped Maeve off in her playroom, and August and her mom made their way back to the kitchen.

“So, you might have noticed she doesn’t have a crib.” August said, and his mother nodded.

“Yes I did. Is there a reason she doesn’t have one?” His mother asked.

August took a deep breath and began to explain. “I mentioned that her mother had died, but I didn’t mention how. Her mothers name was Adriana. We were never in a relationship, I barely knew her. We had one night together, and I never saw her again. But, a little over 3 weeks ago, I got a call from a lady named Anais Torres from Child Protective Services and she told me about Maeve. Adriana was killed. In front of Maeve. I won’t go into detail about her death because it was awful. They also hurt Maeve. Not as bad as Adriana, but still pretty badly. She has some scarring around her wrists from it, but mainly it’s emotional trauma.” He said, and reached out to hold his mothers hand when she began to cry.

“That poor baby,” She said, a sniffle coming out as well. August nodded. “She seems so happy though.”

August nodded again before continuing. “She is. She has ups and downs. She doesn’t fully understand what happened, but I think she has PTSD. She goes to a psychiatrist next week and I’ll find out for sure, but I’m pretty much certain she does. The crib is the main trigger. They restrained her to a crib, and she was forced to watch her mom die through there. I put her in it the first night, but she was already half asleep when I laid her in it, so she didn’t notice. She had a nightmare a few hours after, and that’s when she realized she was in a crib. I thought about a playpen, but I assume she’ll have the same reaction. Her other triggers are handcuffs, guns, small spaces. She’s also having an aversion to the smell of peppermint gum, so I think whoever killed her mom was chewing peppermint gum.” He explained, and his mom nodded.

“Okay. If she does get triggered, what do I have to do to calm her down?” “Hold her.” August said simply. “Just remind her that she’s safe and loved and nothings going to hurt her anymore. It can go on for a while, but it never goes beyond crying. She’ll settle down, and fall asleep. She’ll be a little off and emotional for the next few hours, but she’ll be back to normal soon enough. Playing with her hair helps a lot, as does her pacifier.” He said, and his mom nodded.

“Okay. Does she have a daily schedule?” She asked, and August nodded again.

“I usually wake her up around 6:30 because I have to be at work for 7 and she comes with me, but I’ll let her fall asleep in the car again. If I let her sleep, she’ll wake up around 9 or 9:30, so don’t worry about waking her up. She has a floor bed, and she’s been staying in it really well. She doesn’t nap in it, she prefers to nap in my bed, which I allow. For breakfast she has formula, oatmeal, dry cheerios, and some fruit. She’ll play for a few hours, and then she’ll have a nap. She’ll sleep for an hour or an hour and a half, but don’t let her sleep longer than an hour and a half. Then she’ll have lunch. Usually she’ll have the same thing I have, so whatever you make, just give her some of it. Just make sure it’s in small enough pieces. She has a bottle after, and I let her have a little bit of screen time. Her favourite show is Mickey Mouse ClubHouse, so I let her watch a few episodes. She’ll have another bottle, and another nap, and then she’ll play again for a few hours. By the time she’s done playing she’ll be ready for dinner. After dinner, she has a bath, then a book and bed. She usually goes to bed between 6:30-7.” He said, and his mom nodded.

“I put her schedule on the fridge in case you forget anything, along with her triggers. If you need anything, call me. I managed to convince Sloane, my boss, to let me keep my phone on in case you or her need anything.” He said. She just nodded again, and then a chime from his phone was heard, signalling that Ilsa and Benji were on their way to pick him up.

He sighed. “I should go say goodbye to her. I’ve gotta go.” He said, and his mom followed him into Maeve’s playroom where she was building (or trying to) a tower with big lego blocks.

“Maeve?” He called, getting down to her level and watched as she whipped her head around and gave August a big smile. “Come to Dada,” he said, and she dropped the Lego she was holding to crawl over.

He heard his mom chuckle behind him. “She listens a lot better than you did at that age,”

August smiled as he scooped her up. “I always think the same thing. Definitely learned it from her mother.” August remarked sadly. Partly out of what he had learned about Adriana, but mainly because he was going to miss the little girl he’d come to love so easily.

“I’m gonna miss you, but you’re gonna have so much fun with your grandma. I love you.” He said, and she smiled and cuddled him back, her curly head resting on his shoulder. His phone chimed again and he let out a sad sigh.

“Dada has to go. I’ll see you in two days, okay?” He said, and tried not to cry when he handed her off to his mom.

He said goodbye to his mom, and gave her another kiss on the head, before walking out the door, and trying to ignore the sounds of his daughter's pained wails for him. He grabbed his bag, and headed out the door.

Benji and Ilsa were waiting outside in a normal, inconspicuous looking car. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and put on his tough face. He didn't want to cry in front of the team. He needed to be tough, and crying wouldn’t make him ‘The Hammer”.

“Hey Walker.” Benji said as he got in, and August gave him a smile.

“Where’s the mission?” He asked monotonously.

“Germany. We’re investigating a target who we believe is a part of The Amiens Family gang.”

At the mention of the gang, August almost choked on his own saliva. “D-did you say Amiens?”

Benji nodded, a confused look spreading on his features. “Yeah. Apparently they’re trying to find a civilian who escaped their custody once before thanks to the police, and according to the files Ethan and I recovered last week, this person has a lot of information, mainly about the financial aspect, and they are not happy in the slightest that this person escaped. One of the targets is in Germany following a lead of their own, so we’re following him.” He said.

August sighed and nodded, and was thankful that no one suspected him yet. He had to practically beg Sloane to keep Maeve off of his file, and he wasn’t ready for everyone to know about her quite yet. She was going through a lot, and the next few months were going to be tough on the both of them as they got to know each other, so the less people involved, the better.

Then, a thought popped into his head. “What’s this civilian’s name?” He asked.

Benji glanced down at the file before speaking. “Alexis Amiens. I think she was very high up in the family, but I couldn’t be sure.” August nodded, and tried to appear unbothered by this information on the outside while he had a freak out on the inside.

If he was remembering correctly, Alexis was the twin sister of Adriana. So, they were after someone who was out to get Maeve’s aunt. That scared the shit out of him. Not just the fact that they were going to be tailing someone who was either a close relation or close contact to the people who killed Adriana, and hurt his daughter, but the fact of who it was. It could have been a coincidence, just like Maeve’s screaming was, but just like the screaming, August didn’t think so.

Were they after Maeve? And if they were, what did they want from her? He desperately needed to fully read her file, but he couldn't very well pull it out in the middle of the car with Ilsa and Benji, who would question him about it, and then demand to know who Maeve and Adriana were. He agreed with himself that he’d wait until he was in Germany, and he’d find time to sit down and read it.

He’d read bits and pieces, but after what Anais had briefly told him about Adriana’s family, he never looked in the family section. Hell, he only barely glanced at it for her name and age before, so he should probably read up on it.

By the time they made it to Germany, August wanted to go home.

He missed Maeve, and his mom had called him and told him Maeve was having a meltdown because she heard police sirens, and it set her off. She calmed down, and was fine, but he wished he could be there for her.

The poor girl was probably so confused, August thought to himself. In the past month, her mom was killed in front of her, a gun was held to her head, she was saved by the police then handed over to CPS, dropped off at some random man (in her eyes) house, and just when she was feeling comfortable, that man had to leave, and she was being watched by another random person she’d never seen before.

But, as much as August wished that he could be with her 24/7, he knew that wasn’t a reality. He had to find a nanny to take care of her during the day, but how would find one that he trusted? He knew for a fact that there were probably people out there who wanted him dead. It was just a part of the job description. Before Maeve, he didn’t care too much.

He always told himself that everything happens for a reason. If he was killed on a mission, it was his time to die. Unfortunate and untimely but still, it was clearly the universe deciding his life was finished. But, now he had Maeve. He had a 7 month old to take care of. If he died, that meant leaving Maeve.

He knew it would happen one day, but he’d always hoped it would be from old age, not an enemy or stray bullet. He didn’t want that on her conscience. He didn't want the idea that ‘everyone I get close to dies’ in his daughters head because that wasn’t healthy.

No. He couldn’t die. Not until he heard her say Dada, not until she took her first steps, until she went to her first day of school (a thought that made him slightly teary eyed, despite being a good 3-4 years away). Not ever. He would not leave his daughter.

He’d lucked out and got his own hotel room. He had a feeling that it was because Ethan was still a little wary of him, as he was new, but he didn’t care. As soon as he was handed the key to the overpriced hotel room where the gala that they’d be attending the next night was being held, he was off towards the elevator, his duffel bag and briefcase in hand.

The second the door shut behind him, he pulled out the file, and sat down at the table that was located beside the big windows and balcony doors. He opened the file, and read through it thoroughly, making sure to not miss anything.

Name: Maeve Luna Walker

Age: 7 months old

Birthday: March 15th, 2020

He knew that. He kept reading.

Mothers name: Adriana Cora Amiens

Fathers name: August Nathaniel Walker

Godmothers name: Alexis Luna Amiens

He swallowed roughly. Alexis was not only his daughter's aunt, she was her godmother. And, Maeve was named after her.

Reason for removal from household: Mother’s death.

Next of kin: August Nathaniel Walker (father)

He was the only one listed, and that satisfied him. At least CPS knew better than to put her with her mothers side.

Description of conditions of the environment where the child was living:

August took a deep breath, before reading the paragraph.

Maeve was found by LAPD police officer (REDACTED) doing a wellness check called in by neighbour (REDACTED).

August rolled his eyes at the word redacted. He could get the information, but that would have to wait until he was back in Washington.

She was restrained to the bed using metal, police grade handcuffs. The diaper she was wearing had been soiled in more than once, indicating she had not been changed in several days. She was extremely hungry and dehydrated. The doctors at (REDACTED) hospital observed that if she had not been rescued when she was, she would have died within 24 hours from dehydration and starvation. There was no physical evidence of abuse on her, other than some light scarring on her wrists from the metal handcuffs. However, she is exhibiting signs of emotional trauma and will likely develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is unclear at this time whether or not she witnessed the murder of her mother, Adriana Amiens, or not.

Addition: as of September 17th- it has been confirmed through viewing of security camera footage that Maeve was indeed present and conscious during the murder of her mother, Adriana Amiens.

He pushed the file away after reading that paragraph. His poor little girl. She almost died because of what happened, and although she wouldn’t have known what was happening, she most definitely recognized the feeling of being hungry, thirsty, and soiled beyond belief. August told himself his little girl would never experience hunger or thirst again if he had anything to do with it.

He took a deep breath to calm his anxiety that had blended into anger, before reading further, specifically on her mothers family’s history.

Adriana Cora Amiens, born August 5th, 1989, was the daughter of Amiens Family Mob leader Charles Jacob Amiens, nicknamed The Master, and his wife, Rose Alena Amiens (formerly Anderson). She was the twin of Alexis Luna Amiens.

Not much is known about her early life, or her education, other than she had a twin sister, an older brother named Andrew, and was privately schooled.

She had very few long term relationships. Her longest relationship has been noted as one of her fathers lackeys, Anton Filho. They began dating in 2000, and the relationship endured until 2005. Sources close to the family state that he was killed by Charles for ‘deflowering his daughter’.

Adriana reportedly emancipated herself due to the murder of Filho, and had zero contact with her father, and the rest of her family, including her twin sister Alexis because of it.

In 2019, she fell pregnant. Sources say that the father is unknown, while others believe it is Fritz Corleone, a former mobster she had been spotted with, however this was never confirmed or denied by either party. It is rumoured that she regained contact with Alexis, who emancipated herself from her family not long after Adriana did, although Adriana did not know this, but this has not been confirmed.

It is unknown whether she went through with the pregnancy and if she did, it is unknown of the child's whereabouts after the birth, and following Adriana’s death.

Adriana died on September 15th of this year. The cause of death has not been announced.

August rubbed his eyes roughly with his fingers. That was a lot of information to take in at once. He definitely thought she made the right choice by emancipating herself from her family after what her father did, but it didn’t go into detail about her father at all. His last hope for that lead was Wikipedia, which meant he’d have to cross reference all the information with the CIA database. He had planned to do so when he originally found out Adriana had been murdered, but he’d been so traumatized by the pictures he found of Maeve that he never looked at it again.

He pulled his laptop out of the briefcase, opened Google, and typed in Charles Amiens on one tab, before opening the CIA database on another. He typed the same thing in the database browser, before heading back to Google. He clicked on the wikipedia link and began reading.

In the files he read previously, there were no pictures of the family. In Charles page however, there was a man who looked just as you’d assume a mobster to look. The greasy slicked back hair, the scowl on his face, the curl in his eyebrow. August didn't dwell on the photo, but rather skipped down to the text on the bottom.

Charles Jacob Amiens was born on November 18th, 1967 to father Jacob Amiens and mother Elizabeth Amiens (formerly Jones), in Brooklyn, New York, New York, United States of America.

It is currently unknown where he obtained an education, both primary, secondary and post secondary.

August switched over to the database to check on the schooling. He confirmed that it is unknown where he obtained his schooling, but on the database, it says that it was a private schooling program named “The Family”. Something about that name was familiar, but he resolved to check on it later.

Amiens took over the head of the family mob the day he turned 18. Suspiciously, this was also the day that his father, Jacob Amiens, went missing and was not found until 2 months later, when his body was found in Prospect Park, although it was clear in the initial investigation that the murder did not occur there.

Now that sparked August’s interest. Did Charles really kill his father or was that just another one of the many coincidences that he’d come across in the last few weeks? Much like the other ones, he found it highly unlikely.

Charles has been associated with over 1500 murders in the upper California area, where he relocated his entire family and employees soon after his fathers body was recovered.

August checked this information as well, and it was also true. Just as he was about to go back to the wikipedia page, something caught his eye.

A notable pattern in the murders that Charles himself carries out is that he carves into his victims, specifically the initials MA, which most take to stand for Master Amiens, which is what he has his men call him.

August slammed his computer shut at that.

Adriana was murdered by her father. He thought back to the photos of the gun being pointed in Maeve’s face. Was Charles the one who inflicted all of this pain on his tiny 7 month old baby currently asleep in Washington under his mothers care?

August felt conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to murder Charles and all those who ever laid their eyes and hands on Adriana and Maeve, but on the other hand, he had a feeling that there was more to Adriana’s murder.

What kind of father would do that to their daughter? August knew he wasn’t the best person. He had a dark history, especially one with the Apostles, but ever since Lane revealed they were going to use Julia as a pawn in the game, he couldn’t do it, and he backed out. He’d changed. It doesn’t mean that he’s a perfect person, but he could never even think to do the things that Charles had done, much less to his daughter.

August glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on the warm and inviting looking bed, and decided to leave the research for tonight. Maeve was safe, and he had a mission to think about. He grabbed the file and lifted it up to put it in the briefcase, when a small envelope addressed to him fell out.

He put the file away, and bent down to grab the letter. He sat down on the bed and opened it.

‘August,

I’m writing you this letter in case anything happens to me.

After our night together, I fell pregnant, and gave birth to a little girl. Her name is Maeve Luna Walker. I made sure she got your last name, and that you were on the birth certificate. I never wanted her to grow up without a mom, but I think I’ve known since the minute I found out I was pregnant that she’d end up with you.

I’m loving being a mom. It’s the best job I could have, and I want you to know I’m not keeping her from you on purpose. We didn’t talk about our families that night, but I come from a rather dark one. I won’t go into details, but us having contact would ultimately result in your death. I don’t want that to happen. The CIA and the world needs you more than Maeve and I do right now.

If anything happens to me, please find who did it. There are people after me, but I don’t know who. I do, however, have a suspicion it has to do with my family. You’re a great man, and an excellent CIA agent. I know you’ll be able to do it.

When you find the woman of your dreams, I want her to adopt Maeve. It pains me to say that, but it’s the right thing to do. Maeve deserves to grow up in a happy and healthy household, a household that I know only you can provide. I need you to protect our daughter. She is the light of my life, and I know she’ll be the light of yours too. She’s a sweet little girl who is sweet and kind to everyone she comes across. She amazes me in the same way you did.

I’m so sorry if I’m gone when you’re reading this, but if I am, it was my time to go. I know we only had one night together, but I want you to know that I love you. I never stopped thinking about you, not for one minute. I love you so much. I will never stop loving you, especially for giving me Maeve, my light in my otherwise pitch black world.

I know you’ll be the best daddy to our little girl, and I’m sorry I won’t get to see her grow up. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be the best.

I love you. Thank you. I’m sorry.

Adriana.

P.S. I wrote Maeve a letter as well. I was hoping you could give it to her when you feel it's the right time.’

August dropped the letter to the ground and let out a sob, his hands coming to cover his face. Adriana knew that she was going to die, and that there was nothing she could do. Even in that horrible, unthinkable and terrifying situation, she put Maeve first. She thought about Maeve’s safety and wellbeing, both physical and mental. She wanted their daughter to grow up happy and healthy, and wanted him to be happy too.

He felt awful. He’d thought about getting her number, but ultimately decided against it. His line of work didn’t exactly allow him time to have a relationship like that. Hell, it barely gave him enough time to parent, but he managed that. Maybe if he had just gotten her number, he could have saved her from all of this pain. He could have seen the moment that his child took her first breath. He could have seen her first words, the first time she crawled, all of it.

He picked up the letter and folded it up before placing it into his wallet for safe keeping. He picked up the file again. He grabbed the letter addressed to Maeve, and placed it in a different section of his briefcase. Once he was home he’d put in his safe until he was ready for her to have it. He thought about peeking at it, but ultimately decided against it. Adriana wrote that for Maeve, not him. When she read it, it would be up to her if she let him see the contents. He doubted he would let her read the one from him anyways.

Once everything was put away, August flopped on the bed, fully clothed still. It wasn’t long after his tears began to flow freely, and he thought about the mother of his child, who was never going to see her little girl again. He thought back to that night, and suddenly, he could remember every little detail. The colour of her hair, her eyes. The shape of her nose and lips. The way she embraced him with her arms, and touched him with her hands.

Just before he fell asleep, he grabbed his phone off the bedside table where he’d thrown in, and opened up Adriana’s instagram. He found a few selfies that she had posted around the time that they had met, and screenshotted them.

He found one that captured her beauty perfectly, and made that one his lock screen. His home screen was Maeve, the first night they were together, asleep on his chest. That way he had both his girls on his phone no matter where he went, even if one of them wasn’t actually his anymore.

August awoke to banging on his door the next morning.

He groaned, but stood up and answered the door. He was greeted by Ethan, with a stupid grin on his face.

“Rough night?” Hunt asked, and August nodded, stepping to the side and allowing him in.

“Need something?” He grunted out, and Ethan nodded.

“Benji asked me to check on you. He mentioned that you and him had spoken about the Amiens family when him and Ilsa picked you up, and you seemed a little on edge. I just want to make sure we’re both on the same team here.” Ethan said, a serious look on his face.

August always respected Ethan, despite them not always being friends. Ethan trusted his team, and if he had any doubts about anything, he always confronted them himself. He never let things play out. August could come up with a lie about why he was uncomfortable about it, but Ethan had a knack for smoking out liars, so he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to risk anything.

“I’ve actually been investigating them on my own, is all. I-” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have a connection to them.” He said simply, and he almost hoped that that would be enough to make Ethan leave it alone, although he knew it wasn’t.

Ethan sat on the chair next to the table that held his briefcase. August sighed and sat on the still unmade bed. “My daughter.”

Ethan sputtered slightly before speaking. “Y-You have a daughter?” he asked, and August nodded in response.

“I do. She was born in March of this year, but I didn’t find out about her until the beginning of this month. Her mother was a part of the Amiens family. Specifically, Adriana.” He admitted, and Ethan sighed.

“Wow. That changes things. Wasn’t she murdered recently?” Ethan inquired, and August nodded once more.

“Yes. In front of Maeve.” He said, and corrected himself when he saw the confusion on Ethan’s face. “Her name is Maeve. They handcuffed my 7 month old to a crib, and forced her to watch her mother be murdered by her grandfather. That’s a speculation though, I’m not 100% certain. He also pointed a gun at her head through the crib, and I assume they were going to shoot, but the police raided where they were being held at that moment.” August said, and Ethan sighed in sadness.

“That’s rough. How is she doing now?” Ethan asked, and August smiled at the thought of his little girl. “She goes through waves. One minute she’s a happy and healthy little girl whose only concern is what toy she’s going to play with next, and the next she’s almost frozen, and seems to be reliving what happened to her and her mother all over again. She can’t sleep in a crib, or a playpen. She hates police officers, guns, handcuffs, and the smell of peppermint. In some ways she’s a normal baby, but there are so many things she’s struggling through, that I’m worried about her development.”

Ethan nodded, and was about to open his mouth to speak, when August’s phone went off. August picked it up, and answered.

His heart dropped into his stomach at his mom's words. Maeve had woken up and realized that August wasn’t there, so she called out for her Mama. When August’s mom had said that her Dada would be back in a few days, she was immediately sent into a meltdown, and his mom couldn’t calm her down, even after half an hour.

“Fuck. Okay. Let me think of something and I’ll call you back.” He said, and his mom thanked him before hanging up.

He turned to Ethan. “How badly do you need me on this mission?” he asked, and Ethan furrowed his brow.

“Is something wrong with Maeve?” He asked and August nodded.

“She’s having a meltdown because I’m not there and my mom can’t calm her down.” Ethan’s eyes widened.

“We can make do without you. You can go home, you’re needed there more than here at the moment.” He said, standing up, and helping August to get packed. August nodded, and as soon as he was packed he turned to Ethan.

“Thank you. I know this mission is important.” He said, and Ethan smiled at him.

“Being a father trumps all of that. You have a little girl, a little girl who just went through hell, so don’t even worry about it. Go make sure she’s okay.” He said, and August nodded, a smile peeking through on his lips.

August dropped his bag as soon as he made it through the door, in favour of finding Maeve. The door shutting behind him seemed to alert his mom to his presence, and a few seconds later, she appeared in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Hi, honey.” She said, opening her arms for a hug. August let himself relax in his mothers embrace for a few moments before leading him into the bedroom.

“She managed to cry herself to sleep, and hasn’t woken up yet. I thought you being here when she woke up would be better than anything else.” She said, and August nodded.

“Thank you.” He said, sincerely, and his mom smiled. “It’s no problem. Other than her huge meltdown she was a perfect angel. I’ll get going, and let you two spend some time together. If you need anything at all, just give me a call, okay?” She reassured, and August thanked her again.

“I’m really glad you’re giving me a second chance, Auggie. I hate what I put you through after your father died. I hate the person I became. I thought I couldn’t be a single parent, but after seeing you do it, I don’t know why I ever thought that.” She said, a tear slipping down her face.

“Mom, it’s okay. I never hated you. I didn’t really understand why you were so cold and distant all of a sudden, but I get it. I wasn’t an easy kid, and I’m sure Dad dying didn’t help,” He joked, pulling a laugh out of his mom. “You were too much like him for your own good.” She said, and August smiled in agreement.

He watched as his mother gave Maeve a kiss on the head, before giving him one as well. “You’re doing a terrific job. I love you, son.” She said, and now it was August’s turn for a tear to fall.

“I love you too, mom.”

He walked his mom to the front door, and closed and locked it behind her once she left. He glanced at his watch, and decided to let Maeve sleep a little longer. Her poor little body was probably exhausted, just like his was from the quick time changes. He walked back into the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and laid beside his daughter on the bed.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, Maeve’s eyes opened, and a huge smile broke out on her face when she saw her Dada. She cooed and placed her hand on his mouth again. August pressed a kiss to her flesh, and to August’s amazement, she smiled and giggled, instead of crying and asking for Adriana.

“Hello, my love. I missed you,” He whispered, as his daughter snuggled up to him, and closed her eyes again. August followed suit, and the pair were out within seconds.

It took a few days for Maeve to be back to herself fully. Everytime August would leave a room, she’d get anxious and cry, almost as if she thought he wouldn’t come back. August knew that it was his fault. He shouldn’t have taken the mission, she wasn’t ready to be left with random people yet, at least for days on end.

As he sat on the couch working on his laptop, Maeve playing with some cars while watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse at his feet, he realized he needed a nanny. He really didn’t like the fact that he’d been bringing her to work everyday. No one else cared, but he’d rather her first words she says with him not be ‘gun’ or ‘murder’.

He had gotten a few numbers from one of the other agents who was also a parent, but had yet to call any of them, so that’s what he worked on while Maeve was distracted.

A few hours later, and he’d been having terrible luck. Everyone he called either couldn’t do it because of another job, had another family, wasn’t nannying anymore, or was 16. He was beginning to give up hope, when he looked at the last name on his list.

Y/N Y/L/N - (xxx) xxx-xxxx

He tried not to be too hopeful going into the phone call, but when you said that you were available anytime, and were willing to meet with him the next day. He was very pleased to learn that you had worked with children in the past who had PTSD, and developmental disabilities. He knew you were the one already, and knew Maeve would be in the perfect hands with you.

He had religiously cleaned his apartment last night, making sure it was up to standard for a nanny. As he vacuumed Maeve’s playroom, he realized she needed more toys. She had a few, but definitely not enough to support her development. He also needed to get her more books.

Maeve seemed to know what was happening the next morning, because when August woke her up she was all smiles, rather than her grumpy and cuddly self, who cried over August accidentally dropping her favourite pacifier on the ground.

He got her changed and dressed, and put her in her playroom while he got showered and ready. It was a Saturday, and he knew that you wouldn’t be staying for more than an hour today, but he also wanted to appear professional in the beginning. You’d get to see the mess that he was after some missions later.

He immediately liked you. The meeting time was 10:30, and you showed up at 10:25. You had told him that you once worked a job where you had to be on the floor 5 minutes before your shift actually started, so you were in the habit of showing up 5 minutes early to everything.

Maeve instantly liked you as well. She’d crawled up to you, and gave you a hug, and then refused to leave your grasp once she was in it. You had brought her a stuffed elephant, and told her and August that you loved elephants and always gave them to new children you nannied.

He showed you around the apartment, and blushed when you commended him about the floor bed rather than forcing her to sleep in a crib. You also mentioned that it made you happy when parents cared less about fixing the PTSD and cared more about supporting their child and their needs at that point in time because the majority of parents you’d worked with used exposure therapy.

By the time that you’d left August’s apartment, he knew that he’d found a lifelong female presence for Maeve. He wasn’t blind, you were insanely beautiful, but he didn’t want to imply anything because if he was wrong, the only one who’d end up hurting was Maeve, and he didn’t like that.

August watched as Maeve crawled over to the couch, and climbed up. His heart melted when she pushed the curtain aside and waved a chubby hand as best as she could at you as you left the building.

August walked over and scooped her up. “Did you like Ms Y/N?” He asked, and took her excited babbles and hand gestures as a yes. August smiled, and set her down. She took off running (crawling) towards the playroom, adn August turned to make dinner.

As he cooked for the two of them, he thought back to what you had said about exposure therapy. It made him happy to know that he was doing what was considered the right thing, and not forcing her to sleep somewhere that was the cause of so much of her trauma. While he wasn’t thrilled he assembled it for nothing, he knew it wasn’t her fault. He could have fully read the file and skipped the crib when he was shopping, but at least he saved another mother some money and assembly time.

Later that night, as he sat with Maeve in her room as she drifted off to sleep, her hand curled around his pointer finger, he really hoped that this would work out.

Taglist:

All:

@kpopgirlbtssvt @nerdypinupcrystal @sohoseb @bieberhoodforever @crazy-avengers-gal

@colicovision

Henry Cavill:

@amberangel112 @rocket44 @angelicwolf98

#august walker #august walker x you #august walker x y/n #august walker x reader #august walker x female reader #august walker x ofc #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #mission impossible fallout

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voiceless-terror · 4 years ago

Note

(if you feel like it) what about “snowed in” or “comfort” with jontim for the tma december bingo? my jontim brainrot never stops and I’d love to see what you come up with (I’m sure it’d be amazing as always) thanks so much !

The JonTim brainrot is real and appreciated! I combined this prompt with one of @balanced-to-a-tea‘s, who asked for Secret Santa with the season one archives gang! Here there be 3.5k words of gifts, pining, and kisses of the Jon/Tim variety :)

“It’s a mess out there,” Tim reported, plopping down in his office chair and looking strangely cheerful, given the situation. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”

There were audible groans all around, though Jon’s was quieter than the others. If he were being honest, their current situation was his fault- he asked them to hang back at the end of the day and help him with some unreachable boxes (unreachable for him, that is). He was trying to get into the habit of checking the weather in the mornings, though he never managed to actually do it until he was too far from his flat to get an umbrella or a heavier coat. This resulted in a few sticky situations, including several occasions of arriving late, looking like a drowned rat.

“And here I was going to tuck in for the night, have a glass of wine, blast the heat at unreasonable levels,” Sasha complained, doing a half-hearted twirl in her chair. “Terrible!”

“What if we lose power?” Martin fretted, still outfitted in his coat and scarf. “I heard there’s going to be high winds. High winds!” Jon’s guilt increased. Being stuck with his (likely angry) staff in the Archives was not a great start to his career as Head Archivist. And just when we were getting along again…

“I’m sorry,” he began, his hands fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have started this project so late, I didn’t realize the weather would get quite as nasty as it did…”

“Don’t worry about it, boss!” Tim grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, an act Jon would usually scowl at him for. “Should’ve told you ‘bout the storm. You never check the weather reports.” Jon flushed; Tim knew him too well. “Besides, I can’t say I was expecting it to get this bad; London’s not known for its prodigious snowfall.”

“You don’t seem too put-out by it.” Martin eyed Tim suspiciously as he began to unwind his scarf. “You’re smiling.”

“Well, yeah!” Tim swirled around, eyeing them all with an unfettered glee. Jon wondered what he had in mind; there was never a dull moment when Tim had free time. He’d learned that the hard way. “There’s something so romantic about being snowed-in, don’t you agree, Jon?”

Jon did not agree; being trapped, even in a big building like the Institute, left him feeling anxious and restless. Sasha agreed, if her rolled eyes were anything to go by. Martin seemed to be considering it, though.

“I suppose there’s something poetic about it?” he mused, leaning back against the wall. “The snow falling, blanketing the ground in white…” All eyes turned to him and he blushed under the scrutiny.

“See! Martin’s got the spirit.” Tim clapped his hands and got to his feet. “We’ve got leftovers from lunch in the fridge. Between that and Martin’s stash of tea biscuits, we won’t go hungry. And there’s that weird frozen lasagna in the back of the freezer…”

“We don’t have an oven, Tim,” Jon pointed out. “And I’m fairly certain that’s been in there for more than a year.”

Tim continued, impervious to any criticism. “And if we have to stay the night, Jon’s got that cot he thinks we don’t know about-”

“Hey-!”

“-and we can raid all the break rooms for their gross cushions-”

“I am not sleeping here,” Sasha said, punctuating the statement with a slam of a hand on her desk. “The weather report says it's supposed to pass over soon. We’ll only be here for a few hours, tops.”

“Weather reports are wrong all the time, Sash! Think of the fun we could get up to.” Tim smiled and Jon’s heart stuttered without his permission, most likely due to the idea of what Tim considered ‘fun.’ With the way his eyes lit up, however, Jon couldn’t fight a small smile. “Ooh! We could do Secret Santa, like we used to do in Research. Remember?”

Jon did remember. He still kept some of the gifts he’d received, mostly small trinkets from Tim and Sasha that somehow managed to give him a small thrill of happiness whenever he saw them. Still, he didn’t know how they could do such a thing in the Archives, with nothing around that could constitute a gift.

“How’re we supposed to do that?” Martin asked, sharing Jon’s concern. “Statements and office supplies are the only things we have access to.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tim replied, nudging Martin with his foot. “We’ll get creative! I’m sure with a little thought and effort, we can all find something suitable.” He’d already begun to scribble their names on a piece of paper. “C’mon, it’ll pass the time. Please?” Jon sighed, unable to argue when Tim used his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Tim’s whoop of enthusiasm. “But don’t expect anything extravagant. I’m not feeling particularly creative.”

“I guess it could be a good distraction,” Sasha acquiesced, with Martin nodding tentatively. “How long do we get to find a gift? Or make one, I suppose.”

“An hour? Two? Then we can all meet back here and exchange!” Tim nodded, and without waiting for any agreement he crumpled the pieces of paper into a cup and stood up. “Martin, you first. No peeking!”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, reaching in with one hand with his head turned pointedly away. He pulled out a slip of paper and immediately turned red upon opening it. “Um, alright. Yeah.” Maybe he got Tim, Jon mused.

Sasha picked next, her face giving nothing away. Tim held the cup out to Jon, waggling his eyebrows. He ignored this, reaching in to pick one of the remaining two slips of paper. Tim!! It read, with several smiley faces and hearts. He felt his own face heating up and shoved the slip into his pocket, staring at the floor.

“And last but certainly not least, me!” Tim took the last slip with a flourish, grinning at what he read. The four of them stared at each other for an awkward beat until Tim broke the silence with a shrill whistle.

“What are you waiting for? Clock’s a tickin’!”

Fuck.

________

It had been an hour and a half. As far as Jon knew, Tim and Sasha were waiting in the break room, steadily demolishing Martin’s stash of sweets, the man himself having locked himself in Document Storage and thereby eliminating one more place for Jon to scavenge for a gift (not that there was anything in there, but it was the principle of the thing). So now here he sat, moping in his office with nary an idea for what to give Tim.

Tim. He was glad they’d started talking again, albeit not with the same frequency as before. There was of course an adjustment period, that was to be expected- especially when someone younger and arguably less qualified than quite a few candidates suddenly became your boss. But Tim had always been there for him, tolerated his quirks, helped him through a breakdown or two. He stuck by his side when most people in the department couldn’t stand him. Perhaps, with some time, they could go back to being as close as they were. Or closer.

Jon tamped that thought down- it was ridiculous to even think about, now that he was his boss. Professional boundaries aside, what would Tim even see in him? It wasn’t his fault Jon read into every wink, every casual word of praise. A hug or a warm arm around his shoulder that he leaned into instead of turning away. Tim did that with everyone, Jon wasn’t special. He wasn’t Sasha, with her beautiful laugh and her razor-sharp wit. Hell, he’d probably pick Martin over him. Someone nicer, with less sharp edges. Someone who laughed as easily as he did.

Someone who wasn’t Jon.

He shook himself from these thoughts, attempting to concentrate on the task at hand. What did he have that Tim could possibly want? Not his rubber band ball, though he knew that Tim was jealous of its now astronomical proportions (he added to it when he was stressed, which he always was these days). Not the stale packet of crisps in the bottom of his drawer. He thought vaguely of getting a book he thought Tim would like from the library, but that was more of a loan. Maybe an article he found interesting? Tim always used to read the ones Jon forwarded him, and even had a thing or two to say at the end of them. But maybe he found them annoying. Maybe he just did that to shut Jon up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jon’s thoughts kept straying to the foyer of the institute, where festive decorations had been set up at the start of the month, most likely Rosie’s doing. There was a beautiful handmade wreath, filled with pinecones and red flowers and other seasonal flora. He remembered back in Research, when Tim would terrorize them all with stupid little pranks and games, his main target being Jon. Jon would always duck away, grumble and complain, and Tim didn’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll indulge him just this once.

Mind made up, he slipped out of his office.

________

Tim watched his three friends with undisguised amusement.

Martin was fidgeting in his seat, constantly crinkling the grocery bag he’d decorated to look more seasonal. Tim knew at once that he’d gotten Jon; he wouldn’t have turned that red for anyone else. Poor sod. Tim had Sasha, a gift he wouldn’t sweat over. She appreciated a good gag. He was fairly certain Sasha got Martin, judging by her neutral, unbothered expression.

Or maybe he just hoped she did. Because that would mean that Jon got Tim.

Not that it would mean anything. He was just interested in what Jon would pick out, that’s all. He could be surprisingly thoughtful, if past gifts were anything to go by. He still had the small box of fidget toys on his desk, where they got regular use.

He clapped his hands decisively, attempting to clear his mind of any more Jon-thoughts. “Well, then. As the emcee for this event, I’ll go first. Sasha, may I present to you the Tim Stoker Coupon Bonanza, valued at over one thousand dollars- but for you? Free!”

He revealed it with all the fanfare of a marriage proposal, bending down on one knee to hand over a binder of hastily drawn nonsense that Sasha would surely appreciate. She took it just as delicately, thumbing through the pages with a delightful smirk.

“One free coffee from the place around the corner?” She put a hand to her chest in faux- surprise. “Tim, you shouldn’t have!” Never mind that he already got her coffee every morning.

“I know, I know. I’m too generous, really.”

“One three hour lunch break. Don’t think Jon would like that.”

“He can come along. Marto too!”

“One date to the Jade Buffet, where we will split the check- Tim, the rest of these are more for you than they are-”

“Moving on!” He interrupted. “Sasha, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” She ignored his wink, shutting the book with an over-exaggerated sigh. She reached out for a small bag on her desk, which she handed over to Martin. He thanked her quietly, unwrapping a mug- Sasha’s favorite, with a cartoon of a dog that she’d hand-painted (Sharpie’d, would be more accurate) to look like one of those highland cows Martin was always going on about. The entire effect was monstrous, but Martin seemed touched. Tim was happy too, as this meant Jon must have drawn his name.

“Oh that’s- that’s so nice, thank you Sasha!” His smile was infectious, even Jon wasn’t immune to it (though he tried to hide it).

“It’ll probably come off if you wash it, so I wouldn’t actually use it,” Sasha advised. “But it could make a nice pencil holder.”

“Oh! That’s handy-”

“Ahem!” Tim once again interrupted; he was eager to see what Martin had whipped up for Jon, considering he’d holed himself up for about two hours. “Martin, I believe it’s your turn?”

“Um, y-yeah.” He put the cup down with some reluctance, picking up the bag he’d decorated with snowflakes and trees and handing it over to Jon, who looked surprised that anyone had gotten him anything. It was an expression Tim was used to; Jon never expected kindness, even in circumstances when he would very clearly receive it. Silly man.

As soon as Jon began to reach into the bag, Martin stumbled through an explanation. “You don’t need to keep it, n-not if you don’t want, but y-you’re always saying you’re cold and y’know, I have extras, so-”

Martin had given Jon one of his many scarves, this one a worn, dark green that was sure to look lovely with his skin tone. He spent two hours deciding on that? It was a nice gift, for sure. Jon held it in his hands like it was completely foreign to him, though Tim could see him running his fingers over the knit appreciatively, looking at it with wide eyes.

“B-But this is your scarf, Martin,” he said, once he found the words. “I can’t-”

“Well now it’s yours,” Martin replied, his voice steadying with resolve. “Anyway, I um- it’s got your name on it. Or your initials, at least.” He gave a nervous laugh, his face turning even redder if possible.

And sure enough, at the end of the scarf was a small, messy embroidered J.S., along with a crude attempt at a small cat face. The effort was adorable, and it sent a pang through Tim’s chest for several reasons he didn’t want to name.

“T-That’s- well, thank you, Martin.” Jon ran his fingers over the small ‘J’ as if it would disappear if he looked away. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Jon placed it almost reverently back in the bag, giving Martin a rare, genuine smile, one that Tim wished he had put on his face. Stop that.

“Jon’s turn!” he said, mustering up his last bit of enthusiasm. “I for one have no idea who Jon got, so this is going to be a real surprise-”

“S-Shut up, Tim.” Jon muttered, reaching for something behind him. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small sprig of what looked to be pine needles, because it couldn’t be what Tim thought it was, no sir, that wouldn’t make sense-

He watched as Jonathan Sims moved closer and with shaking hands and a beet-red face, moved up on his tippy-toes to hold a tiny sprig of mistletoe above their heads. And then, in what surely must have been a hallucination or a dream sequence, two lips met his in a tiny peck of a kiss that was over before Tim could truly register it.

He stared unblinking as Jon sank back on his heels, his eyes still tightly shut from the kiss. Tim brought a hand up to his mouth, the warm tingle of slightly chapped lips on his still fresh in his mind. Jon began to stutter in the absolute silence of the room, stumbling backwards without looking up from his feet.

“I’m, um- I-I have to. S-Sorry! I’m going to... goodbye now.”

And with that Jonathan Sims fled the room, leaving three stupefied assistants in his wake.

_________

“Knock Knock!”

Tim tried to keep his voice as light as possible. He didn’t think Jon could stand anything more than that right now.

He’d given him a half hour of solitude, enough for him to overcome whatever embarrassment he felt over the encounter. Martin was stewing in a corner, looking shell-shocked and mopey over the turn of events. Tim was just as shocked as he was. Little Jonathan Sims, grumpy researcher and now even grumpier Head Archivist, giving Tim a kiss? Under the mistletoe?

“Go get him,” Sasha smirked, kicking his chair. “Bring him some food. And maybe return the favor.”

So he took a plate of reheated Pad Thai and a bottle of rum he kept under his desk for special occasions, hoping to win Jon over. Let him know the kiss was much appreciated, and that perhaps he’d like another if Jon was so inclined.

The man jumped up from his desk, where he’d had his head pillowed in his arms and his chunkiest cardigan wrapped around him for warmth. It was getting colder, and Tim hadn’t checked outside recently, too distracted by current events. His face was still flushed red, and he wouldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I’ll have to change that.

“Thought I’d come bearing gifts.” He waved the bottle of rum around for Jon to see as he walked into the room. “Of the food and drink variety. But I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the break room.” He threw in a wink for good measure- God, why couldn’t he ever be serious? He always fell back on jokes and teasing words.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon groaned, reaching out for the rum and pouring a liberal amount into a mug that previously housed tea. He still avoided Tim’s eyes. “That was completely inappropriate, I-I just couldn’t think of-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he placed the food down on Jon’s desk, ignoring the pain in his heart at the apology. So he didn’t mean it. He plopped down on Jon’s couch, trying to feign a lightness he didn’t feel as he drank straight from the bottle. “No harm, no foul. It was nice.” He shrugged. Jon moved from his desk to join him on the couch, looking so adorable and cozy that Tim had to restrain from taking him in his arms. He watched as Jon took two large mouthfuls of the rum, knocking it back like a champ. Jesus. And then he raised his eyes to his, meeting them with a wide-eyed hopefulness that made Tim’s heart stutter in his chest.

“So- so you didn’t mind?”

“Nope.” Tim took another sip of the rum, wondering where this was going. He wouldn’t…

“Then you-,” Jon gulped, seemingly gathering his courage. “You wouldn’t mind if we- that is, if I maybe did it again?”

Tim stared.

“I-I still have the mistletoe.”

Jon sat there, so earnest and vulnerable, his hands fidgeting with the drink in his lap. Tim remembered the first time he laid eyes on him, the taciturn young researcher with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He imagined asking him on a date, getting to know the man under that prickly exterior. Making him laugh, getting that rare smile that Martin got today. But he didn’t seem interested and Tim never wanted to push it, too respectful of his boundaries.

But maybe he hadn’t imagined the way Jon leaned into his touch. How he laughed at Tim’s shitty jokes a bit longer than necessary. That the looks he got in the library weren’t ones of annoyance, but fondness. So he set the bottle down, took the drink out of Jon’s hands and replaced it with the warm grip of his own. His voice came out low, quiet and serious and utterly unlike him.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And he leaned in and kissed Jonathan Sims, just like he wanted to do all those years ago.

It was a sweet, lingering thing- the taste of rum on his lips, lips that parted so easily for Tim like he’d been waiting, wanting this for so long, maybe even as long as Tim had. And when they finally parted, Jon stared at him with those deep brown eyes and gave him the smile he’d been wishing for and it was just for him. He put that there.

“Was-was that okay?” he murmured, feeling nervous and open under Jon’s intense gaze.

“Yes,” was the whispered response. He let out a small, charming laugh that Tim would always remember when he thought back to this night, the first night of many stolen kisses and secret smiles. “I-I liked that.”

“Well, good!” Tim could no longer contain the urge to have Jon in his arms and pulled him to his chest, appreciating the small squeak it earned him. “Because there’s more where that came from.” Jon leaned into his touch, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth from Tim that he could. It felt so utterly right to be here, on this uncomfortable couch with an armful of the man he’d been pining over for the last three years. Score, a giddy part of his mind yelled. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of affection finally realized when Jon’s head perked up from his chest, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Do you think Rosie’s going to notice I nicked her mistletoe?”

Tim snickered. “Oh, absolutely. But I’ll take the fall. She’s not getting that back.”

Jon was always thoughtful with his gifts. And this was one he intended to keep.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201134

#prompt fill #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jontim #jonathan sims #tim stoker #advent archives #fluff #pining #i will not apologize for the sappiness of this #submit to my jontim agenda #cinnamoniic

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captainmazzic · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Halloween.

So it’s about time I gave a real fucking update instead of just dicking around being cagey about shit. I’ve mentioned a new project repeatedly. So let’s sit down and actually talk about it, friends. Pull up a chair, grab yourself some hot cocoa and strap in. Welcome to Sarc’s emotional roller coaster.

Bear with me. This is hard to talk about for so many reasons, but mostly because I’ve been belittled and ridiculed so many times in my life for liking “cringy” things or wanting to do things that other people think are stupid or childish. I hear the voice of my father telling me to “make something of my life” and “don’t squander your talents”, I hear the voice of my mother telling me I have “so much potential” and “one day I hope you get some ambition”, I hear the voice of my ex telling me to “stop wasting time with stupid shit” and “nobody is interested in failures”. I hear old teachers telling me honor roll students should go to college and study high-demand majors and anything else would be lazy and detrimental and won’t contribute anything worthwhile to society.

It’s the same shit that prevented me for a long time from posting art online. From posting writing online. From making ocs and showing them to other people. And now it’s preventing me from starting this project, and I’m so, so tired of it.

My biggest fear right now is that once I start talking about this project I’ll lose this tiny little community of people vaguely interested in my stuff that have somehow stuck around. External validation and sharing the things I love are my primary motivations with everything I do online, and while screaming into the void is all well and good, I need feedback and interaction and community. I need it so, so badly. I wouldn’t post jack shit – ever – if I didn’t need that, to be honest.

So anyway.

When the pandemic kicked into high gear earlier this year I got laid off for a few months. It gave me a lot of time to think about who I am and where I wanted to be in life, what mattered to me, what dreams I still had and which ones had fallen by the wayside.

Some of them are huge – once upon a time I was very religious. I went through seminary, got my minister’s certification, and was slated to be an associate pastor in a mega-church and rake in a six-figure income within 3 years. But I lost my faith and couldn’t stand the idea of being disingenuous.

And there was also a time when I received a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious university that would have spanned a 12-year program and resulted in me having several doctorates and masters degrees by the end of it, in the fields of geology, palaeontology, and cladistics. But the scholarship program that was supposed to sponsor me went bankrupt the very semester I was supposed to capitalize on it. I was still accepted into the school, but the $1.2 million price tag would have all been out of my own pocket. So obviously that didn’t happen.

Those were the “acceptable” dreams. Those were the ones that parents and teachers and the general outside world approved of and thought were worthy goals. But neither of them panned out, and all I have left are the cringy ones. Like homesteading and sustainable living (can’t start without land, can’t have land without money). Like making comic books and doing art commissions for a living (it has to be steady to support myself, and I’m far too slow an artist for things to be steady). And like… playing video games.

Ha.

What’s funny is I can already envision the eyerolls and hear the snorts of laughter. What kind of dream is that? Only a handful of famous youtubers and twitch celebrities play video games for a living, and breaking into a field like that is pretty much impossible unless you already have friends in famous places.

Yeah, but… it would be so much fun. Right?

It WOULD be fun. I don’t have to become a super popular celebrity for it to be fun, right?

I don’t have to make it my day job and rake in piles of cash for it to be fun, right?

… I don’t have to actually be successful for it to be fun… right?

… Right?

… I love video games.

I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed so many times to win The Empire Strikes Back on Atari 2600. I’ve loved them ever since I played Mortal Kombat with my cousin in his basement with the sound down super low because it was ultra-violent and I would have been in so much trouble if mom caught me playing it. I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed to finish Strife and Hexen and Heretic without the computer crashing and rebooting to DOS. I’ve loved them ever since I had to cheat-code my way through Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II just to get past the first boss fight but then no-clipped through the wall and died anyway. I still love that game.

But I stopped playing video games for a very long time. I was intimidated out of them by an ex and a somewhat toxic friend group who were Real Gamers™. I was brought to LAN parties but not allowed to play, because I slowed down the team and didn’t know the controls. I was banned from commenting on other people’s moves or cheering people on because it was distracting and I could cost them a win. I was even kicked out of their online D&D campaigns because I couldn’t be serious enough or roleplay well enough for their standards. Even if I was playing a game on my own, I couldn’t play with anyone else in the house because I’d be ridiculed for dying a lot, or for going the wrong way, or for picking the wrong game because only certain games are “good” and most of the ones I wanted to play were “stupid” or “trash” or a “waste of time”.

That kind of thing sits with me for a very, very long time. I didn’t really play games at all for over a decade. Even after I ended up on the opposite side of the country, with a new circle of friends, I couldn’t bring myself to play much of anything.

And then I had an extended visit with a friend of mine, and he introduced me to an early version of a ridiculous little game called Minecraft. My friend was an avid gamer but also a very kind one. In the ten years before this, I had told myself that I just preferred to watch other people play games instead of playing them myself (a lie. I mean, I absolutely adore watching other people play, but I also want to play too lol), my friend saw through that and very gently encouraged me to take a stab at playing Minecraft myself. He moved his laptop over to me, and I played a whole ten minutes with him watching before my nerves failed me and I promptly died. But miraculously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just a game. I might have cried in relief, I don’t remember.

After my visit I shelved playing video games for like another year, despite buying a whole mess of them because other friends online loved certain titles and wanted to talk about them with me. (I never played them, just bought them. I couldn’t even handle the thought of playing by myself in my own house). But for some reason I mentioned to my brother-in-law my old visit to my Minecraft-loving friend, and he just… up and bought the game for me. My brother-in-law is also an avid gamer with a lovely and patient disposition, and he suggested I just play in creative mode and build things to start. So I did that (behind a locked door in the RV that I lived in by myself, with the lights off and the sound down low) and Minecraft was my sole video game for another several years.

Then a couple years ago another friend of mine (hi Char) introduced me to Star Wars: The Old Republic, and I fell in love. It sparked a renewed interest in video games that I thought I would never really have the opportunity to satisfy, because games were still intimidating.

Let me clarify: I… SUCK. At video games. I’m terrible at them. Learning controls is a nightmare and a tunicate evolving its own brain would learn faster than me. If I’m aiming, I can’t hit the broad side of a barn. I have the direction sense of a whirligig beetle on the back of a drunk pigeon. I die fast and I die often. I can count the number of games I’ve actually finished on one hand. Even less if we don’t count the ones I had to use cheat codes to get through. But none of that diminishes my love of experiencing them, and over this whole pandemic and quarantine thing I’ve had a lot of time to unpack and mull over my thoughts and feelings and passions about them.

… I moved my RV to a new spot literally the day before the lockdown in my state first initiated. Before this I was in a spot that had no internet other than what reception I could get on my phone, with severely limited bandwidth and patchy, unreliable service. The new spot has a steady wi-fi connection, and while upload speed is utter shit, downloading and streaming video are just this side of manageable. So I spent the first three months of the quarantine lockdown doing pretty much nothing other than watching Jacksepticeye, CrankGameplays, and Markiplier play video games on YouTube. (I honestly had no idea before this that people even did let’s plays. My internet access/speed has been shit for so long I’m totally out of the loop).

It… for fear of sounding utterly stupid yet again, it inspired me.

Like. These people really love what they’re doing. They just. Play video games and have fun with it, and I mean yeah they make money hand-over-fist doing it but the main thing is they HAVE FUN doing it. They have fun! Playing video games! In front of people! It’s wild. And the thing that REALLY got me was… they have feedback on it too. They have a COMMUNITY. They have people they can talk to about it. They have people that they can play games WITH, even, who don’t yell at them or tell them they suck every five minutes or tell them they can’t play with them because they’re worthless as teammates. They can fuck up in a game and their friends are laughing along with them on Discord instead of screaming at them to get it right or get out. They can play games by themselves in their house and then upload videos on the internet and then they can talk to other people about it! They have fun! It’s awesome! They have fun!!

I just. It meant so much to me. It meant so much to me to see these videos of these three, and then another dozen or so that I’ve followed since, play all these games and have such a good time and also be such a positive and kind and encouraging source of energy.

I know all of this is not exactly about video games specifically. It’s about coming to terms with how I’ve been treated as a person and as a friend, about how other people respect someone’s interests and passions, about how it’s okay to share your interests with other people and it’s okay to like things that other people might not care about or think are important.

And I’m so, so tired of not doing the things I love because I’m afraid of what other people will think.

So I, uh. I invested all of the stimulus money I had into a new rig and equipment like a camera, lighting, acoustic panels, all that shit. I dug out all the games I bought but never played, I made accounts on all the big gaming services like Steam and Itch.io and GoG, and I made a YouTube channel. And I’m going to be making my own let’s plays. And it will suck, and it will be cringy and awkward and badly done, and it won’t make me money or be a valid career option or be anything but another very expensive hobby, but it will be mine, and it will be something I can share with people and (hopefully) have fun with, and it will (hopefully) be an avenue for some of this positive social interaction I’m craving.

I know YouTube can be toxic and super negative and full of trolls and cancel culture fanatics and people just waiting to find something to tear you down for, but like. Come on, y’all. I’m posting this on tumblr dot com. Toxic is everywhere anyway. I just want to try, you know?

I just want to love video games again.

Someone famous that I look up to so, so much told me – without knowing that I was even listening, without even knowing that I even exist – that if I enjoy doing something, to just go for it. To just jump in and do it, and if it works then it works, and if it doesn’t, what have I actually lost?

And I’m lucky enough to have four whole offline friends that I’ve mentioned this idea to, and each of them has said encouraging things like I’d have a good voice and face and style for making let’s plays. I honestly don’t know how true that part is, but on my good days I believe them. And they also said that I should go for it, to just try.

So that’s… that’s what I’m doing, I guess. I just want to try.

I know it’s not Star Wars fanart. I know it’s not Star Wars fanfiction. I know it’s not Star Wars meta or essays or ranting about the Sith and the Jedi and the Force. I know it’s not what y’all want from me. And that’s utterly terrifying. I’m bracing myself to be alone on the internet again, because I know that when I dive headfirst into this thing, it’ll eat away into the time that I normally might be spending doing writing or art, and it’s going to be something no one else wants to see and no one signed up for. And that’s partly why it’s taken me so very, very long to get started.

The other part is more physical. Of course as soon as I decide that I’m going to put my face on a camera is when my entire face goes to shit. I’m currently waiting on a potential diagnosis for mouth cancer, while already dealing with a severe jaw infection that’s causing my teeth and gums to rot inside my mouth. They already took part of my jaw, I’m missing teeth, others are turning black, if I open my mouth even just a little it is so obvious and I look like a very, very literal zombie. I have never been more grateful that masks are socially acceptable. I have a series of twelve appointments scheduled to treat this shit now that I have dental and health insurance (goodbye paycheque), and I might qualify for reconstruction surgery too. But that doesn’t really help how I look right now.

So I just can’t bring myself to start this project just yet. I’ve been sitting on it for months now with all the other pieces in place, but I just. Can’t. Start. It’s driving me crazy, because I want to start so badly. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel like I’ve already wasted so much time, because I haven’t even done anything else in the meantime. I haven’t done hardly any art or fanfic, nothing. My anxiety is spiking so high right now because I have all these expectations of myself, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve been told that I could just start without a camera or wear a mask on screen, and I’ve actually done some recording doing exactly that, but I just… can’t seem to make anything I want to finalize.

It’s also frustrating because I have no way of uploading anything at home. I’ll have to go over to my partner’s house which is nearly an hour’s drive away in order to get internet good enough to upload videos, which means that upload schedules are going to be shiiiiiit and that’s also frustrating.

But. But. BUT. I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly. I want to share let’s plays and experience a love of video games with other people. I want to actually play games with other people too. I also just acquired a piano keyboard, and I want to play again on the regular because I miss it so much. I used to play piano for hours every single day, it’s so relaxing and fun, maybe I can post that too. Maybe I can post let’s draws or something, where I ask y’all what to draw and then make a video of me drawing it while bullshitting to the camera I don’t know it sounds like fun. Maybe I can post videos of my cooking because the shit I make seems to be everyone’s favourite thing on instagram, and maybe I can take my camera with me when I go to the ocean or hike up into the middle of nowhere in the mountains and film how beautiful everything is up there. Or maybe I can do none of that and just focus on one thing, I honestly have no idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I just… I want to try. I just want to try.

I don’t know where any of this is going anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to messages, or opened up commissions. I’m sorry that this isn’t what y’all wanted. I’m still going to continue drawing and writing, I’m still going to be around, I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how prolific I’m going to be and I have no idea even when I’ll start uploading videos, to be honest. But I just. I’m just gonna try. It might still take me a while but I’m gonna try. Wish me luck. I love y’all.

#long post #psa #sarc speaks #sarc speaks a LOT #3k words worth of a LOT #I'm so sorry #OTL

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severetimetravelnerd · 5 years ago

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Hatred and Love (ft.G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 2

Boundaries begin to blur between you and your captor.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

@kwonnansi

@aarfyie

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Okay, so this is a mafia AU. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino and Hanbin. It will also feature EXO’s Kai in the later chapters.

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Injury, Blood, Eventual smut, Abduction, Guns and Knives, one mention of the word ‘rape’.

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He held you there like that for a while, just staring at you with cold eyes. You had no idea what he was thinking. You had no idea what you were thinking either. You shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t have a death wish. You didn’t have to be so rude to the man who held your life in his hands, although you weren’t lying when you said what you did. But of course, now that you had said it, you weren’t going to apologise for saying the truth. You glared right back at him. All Jiyong could think about however, was how soft and utterly kissable your lips looked. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way. Why hearing you say that you hate him affected him so much. How that was all he could hear repeat over and over in his head. Plenty of people had hated him and done plenty worse in the past, but somehow, hearing you say that made him feel like utter trash. He knew he was a terrible person, and that never really bothered him, but when you called him out on it, it killed him. He was so frustrated. He was feeling the worst and the best he had ever felt at the same time. He took one last look at your face, and let go. You hadn’t realised it, because you kind of got lost in his eyes while glaring back at him, but he was holding your jaw so tightly, it hurt. You rubbed your sore jaw, cursing him under your breath. He turned away from you and stared at Joongi’s lifeless body in the corner. Jiyong picked up his phone and called Hanbin. Hanbin got there in minutes. He walked in, breathless, and he just stared around in shock.

“What happened here Jiyong hyung?”

Jiyong, without taking his eyes off Joongi’s corpse, said,

“Hanbin. Move her to the other room. The one upstairs. Tell Mino and Daesung to get rid of the body.”

Hanbin hesitated for a second before saying,

“Boss, we give the bodies of our men back to the family for their last rites.”

Jiyong, still staring at the corpse with utter hatred, said,

“They aren’t my men after they disobey me. Burn it.”

And he walked out of the room.

You didn’t see Jiyong for three days after that. Hanbin moved you upstairs, but he seemed very nervous about it. It was a genuinely nice room. It was well furnished, with a bed, closet, chairs and windows. It was amazing. You smiled when you entered the room, happy that you’d moved to a nice room, but Hanbin seemed nervous. There was a door in your room attached to another room. You looked at it and asked Hanbin,

“What room is that?”

He gulped and looked around nervously.

“Jiyong’s room.”

Your jaw dropped. You laughed uncertainly.

“That’s a good one Hanbin.”

He also laughed equally uncertainly before replying,

“I’m not joking.”

You didn’t step out of that room for the next few days. You were still locked in, and the only people who could access you were Hanbin and Jiyong, but that wasn’t the only reason. Hanbin said that Jiyong told you to use the clothes in the closet, but they were all clothes left behind by his one-night stands. They were washed and clean, but since they were all clubbing attire, they were rather…scanty. You weren’t exactly very comfortable in neon booty shorts and bodycon tops, but they were your only option, so you had to wear it. Three days after you moved to that room, Jiyong opened the door. With those ever-cold eyes, he said,

“Y/N. come with me.”

You didn’t want to seem weak, but that damn dress you were wearing barely covered your ass, and you were embarrassed. When you got up from your chair, he raised an eyebrow at your outfit. Without saying a word, he just shut the door and left, leaving you waiting there. Five minutes later, a very confused Hanbin walked into your room with a big bundle of clothes. He opened up your closet, took all the clothes out of it and replaced them with the clothes he was holding. He gave you an odd smirk, as though he had finally understood why Jiyong was behaving oddly, before saying,

“Jiyong told me to take all these clothes and burn it. He said to give you these instead.”

He turned to leave before pausing to add something, his smirk deepening.

“Those are Jiyong’s clothes, by the way.”

And he left, laughing to himself at your expression when you heard that.

When Jiyong first walked into your room, it was to take you to his study and try and figure out why you were determined to not let your father hear you. He had to get the job done after all. He couldn’t help the feeling of anger towards your uncle though, for ordering him to torture you. He walked into your room, fully determined to prove a point, but when he saw you sitting there, in a short, strappy red dress, that clung to your curves, he could barely manage to breathe. There was no denying that you looked breathtakingly gorgeous, but he was more bothered by how uncomfortable you seemed. He stepped out of the room, taking deep breaths to calm his mind. He didn’t like the thought of you being uncomfortable. He gave you around half an hour to change and then he entered your room again, and this time, you drove him insane in a completely different way. Jiyong had never seen anything more beautiful than you sitting there in his shirt and shorts, and he hated that he loved it. Struggling to keep thinking straight, he just gestured for you to follow him. He was frustrated with himself, and around you, it was always tougher for him to keep his poker face and remain emotionless. You sat down across from him in his study, waiting for him to make the first move. You didn’t want to make a mistake and ask him something that would make your situation worse. He sat down and crossed his legs, staring at you. He took out a cigarette and slowly, taking his time, lit it up. You hated him. He knew that the long silence would make you antsy, and you hated the smug reassurance he had about him, but you could not deny that in that suit, in that lighting, and with a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips, he looked dangerously sensual. You forced that thought out of your head and glared at him. He smoked the cigarette, making you wait the whole time, and finally, after crushing it, he looked at you and asked,

“Why don’t you want your father to know that you’ve been abducted?”

You quickly thought things through. You weren’t in a position of power, and neither did you have anything with you to make him wait. You quickly decided that you might as well be honest, and you answered.

“My father has way too much to worry about already. I can’t add to his troubles.”

You paused,

“I’m sure it was my uncle behind this. My dad is already suffering enough from trying to stop them from doing too much harm. If he finds out this happened, then he’ll have a weakness for them to exploit. I can’t let that happen.”

You paused again, looking up to try and gauge Jiyong’s reaction, but there was none.

“Also, if I survive this, and my father gets to know, out of worry, he’ll never let me leave home. I need to have a life of my own.”

Jiyong played with the lighter in his hand, keeping you waiting for a while.

“Y/N, isn’t it better to just ask him to give in and sign the forms? Do you think he’ll be happy if he knows his daughter died because he didn’t sign something?”

This time, it was your turn to keep him waiting. After a long pause, you said,

“I see. So you plan on killing me if my father doesn’t give in.”

You glared at him, eyes defiant,

“So be it. If that’s what is meant to happen, it will, but if you think I’m dumb enough to fall for your sloppy attempt at emotional manipulation, you’re sorely mistaken.”

You got up, still glaring at him and walked off. Jiyong sat there, in shock. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you. He just desperately didn’t want to kill you. He would much rather your father just did whatever they wanted and saved you. It surprised and confused him that he felt hurt when you said that. He never felt hurt. He groaned and sank into the chair. Why was this one job so difficult?

You went back to your room and cried. You had so much admiration for Jiyong. You loved G Dragon. He was so talented, hardworking… he was practically a genius. You loved all of that about him. Now, you couldn’t believe that you were disappointed by the kind of man he was. You felt so dejected at the fact that you hated him. What made everything worse was even through all of this, you found him attractive. It was worse because he had saved you. He stopped them from torturing you. He stopped Joongi from raping you. You hated the fact that you were grateful for that. You hated the fact that even through all this, you were finding things to like about the man. You hated that you were growing attached to him.

Jiyong didn’t approach you for a while, and you were only too happy to leave it that way. Hanbin got you everything you needed, and you could manage in that room. That is, until something with incredibly bad timing decided to hit you. You got your period. And yours was always painful. Always. You called Hanbin after you realised you got your period, because you needed pads, but you didn’t have any with you.

“Umm Hanbin, I need you to get me something.”

He sounded kinda wary, because he knew your odd demands. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“No, Y/N, I cannot get you a life size Pikachu toy. It doesn’t suit the mafia.”

“What?! Hanbin, no. I need you to get me pads.”

You expected him to grossed out, and you were fully prepared to roll your eyes and give him a lecture on how there is nothing disgusting about them, when he sounded relieved and said,

“Oh is that it? I’ll get you some. Give me 5 minutes.”

He was in your room in five minutes, with a packet of pads and a bunch of chocolate. He smiled as he dumped all of it on your bed.

“You can never go wrong with chocolate Y/N. Never.”

He sat on the bed, waiting for you to emerge from the bathroom. You did and you immediately took one of the chocolates and began eating.

“Hanbin? You aren’t grossed out by periods?”

He looked confused.

“Why should I be Y/N?”

You just nodded and handed him a chocolate, trying to hide your smile when he reacted that way.

Later that night, Jiyong was in bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of an upcoming deal, when he began to hear soft crying sounds through the walls. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help but feel concerned. Were you okay? What happened? Were you scared? Those were all the thoughts running through his head as he picked up the phone and called Hanbin.

“Hanbin, what’s wrong with Y/N? Why is she crying?”

Hanbin, having been woken up, sounded extremely sleepy when he replied,

“Hyung, she’s on her period. She’s in pain.”

Jiyong cut the call, this time thinking of how to get you to feel better. He slowly got up, remembering what his sister would do when she was having period cramps. He heated up some water and filled up his hot water bag with it, wrapping it in a sweater, before slowly opening the door leading to your room.

When both of you saw each other, you were both left with a blush on your respective faces. He slept shirtless, while you were only wearing his shirt. For the first time since you met him, he forgot to have the poker face on, and he just blushed wildly. You met his eyes, wary, although your face was also red as a tomato. Why did he have to be so incredibly hot? And those tattoos. You had always had a thing for tattoos. He cleared his throat and looked away. He hated how vulnerable he was feeling. In an attempt to be mean, he said,

“It was too noisy to sleep with all your crying.”

He gruffly handed you the hot water bag.

“I better be able to sleep in peace now.”

And still blushing, he left, just as abruptly as he had entered. And for once, an interaction with him hadn’t left you thinking, “God, I hate him.” Instead, it left you blushing, with a small smile on your face.

After that night, Jiyong would first come and give you a hot water bag before heading to bed. The first two days, he just kept the cold exterior, dropped the bag off with you and left, but the third day was different. There was a storm. A terrible storm. Trees were getting uprooted kind of storm. And you were scared of thunder. He came into the room, expecting to see you on the chair, waiting with a glare, but instead, you were shivering under the covers, huddled up on the bed. His eyebrows shot up. Not wanting to let on that he was worried, he said in a bored tone,

“Oh god. Are you falling sick on top of all of this?”

And before he realised what he was doing, he sat down on the bed and pressed his hand against your forehead to check if you had a fever. You didn’t. He was just talking to himself, saying it was weird that you were shivering so much without a fever, when a sudden peal of thunder hit. You jumped, shivering even more. Desperate for some sort of comfort, and although you were sure you’d regret it and he’d push you off, you held his shirt, silently begging him to stay. Jiyong froze when you did that. He also thought he’d just push you off and walk back to his room, but he surprised himself when he slowly pulled you onto his lap, gently patting your head. The two of you just stayed like that, a mafia boss and his abductee, until the storm stopped. Strangely enough, it comforted you. Jiyong paused before leaving. He hesitated, and without the cold voice, and in a softly comforting voice, he said,

“Y/N, next time, just come and find me.”

Things changed after that. Jiyong had more trouble restraining his emotions around you, and you had more trouble convincing yourself that you hated the man. The two of you settled into a new routine after that. Every night, at around 11:30, Jiyong would come to your room and sit there for a while. He would just sit there and think while you read. Sometimes, he would randomly ask a question. “Black or red?” and equally randomly, without questioning it, you would answer, “Black.” “Knives or guns?” “Knives.” “Mountains or beaches?” “Mountains.” You felt safe around him, which was incredibly odd, because he was the one who abducted you. And Jiyong, he felt calmer around you. He shouldn’t have liked it, but because of you, he was becoming more sensitive and more thoughtful, and he did like it. The both of you looked forward to it, but neither of you would ever admit it.

One night, as usual, you were waiting for Jiyong to come and sit with you. At around 12:30, you started getting antsy that he wasn’t there. By 1:30, you were definitely worried. You were pacing up and down, wondering whether he got back, but had fallen asleep. You tried to check for any sounds indicating that he was back, but there were none. Worried sick, you decided to go to his room and check. Terrified, of his reaction and of what you may find, you slowly opened the door connecting your rooms. You were half-expecting the door to be locked, so you were half-surprised when it opened. You were too worried to notice the intricate details of his room, but it was beautifully decorated. You sat down on the plush bed, worried sick. There was no sign of him. You just sat there watching the clock, hoping that nothing had happened to him. Finally, at 3:00 am, he walked in, but it wasn’t a huge source of relief for you, because he was hurt. His white shirt was stained with blood along the sides, and he was holding the cut there, trying to prevent blood loss. He also had a gash on his forehead. You couldn’t stop yourself from whispering,

“Fuck.”

when you saw him. He looked up, wincing when he saw your expression. In a hoarse voice, he asked,

“Why’re you here?”

You looked at all the blood in horror, and asked in a whisper,

“What happened?”

Seeing how worried you were, he tried to joke. He cracked a smile and said,

“You should’ve seen the other guys.”

You glared at him.

“Jiyong, if you weren’t already injured, I’d have hit you myself.”

He smiled, trying to reassure you. You just glared at him and went and got a first aid kit to help him. You pointed at him to sit down on the bed and you said, “Remove your shirt. I need to clean up the wound on your side.”

“Y/N, this is no big deal. It’ll heal on its own.”

You stopped him by glaring at him.

“Jiyong, strip.”

He shut up and removed his shirt, deciding not to argue with you. You were glaring at him the entire time, but he could tell how worried you were by how gentle you were being while dressing his wound. You finished dressing the wound on his side and moved on to the gash on his forehead. You tried from a few different angles, but it just wasn’t working well. Frustrated, you pushed him back a little, suppressing a smile from how wide his eyes got when you did. No one had ever pushed him back like that before. You climbed on to the bed and lightly straddled him to get the right angle for dressing the wound on his forehead, too focused to notice how sexual it was. Jiyong on the other hand, could only think about that. How you were only wearing his shirt. How gorgeous the line of your neck looked with your hair tied up. How innocently seductive it was when the shirt slipped off your shoulder. How you innocently bit your lips, trying to concentrate, not realising how it was driving him insane. He wanted nothing more than to just pull you into a kiss. He was just staring at your lips, when suddenly you froze and looked down at him. His tattoo was distracting you. Just a peek of those wings beneath the crisp white collar on his shirt. It made you feel very, very distracted. You finally stopped to look at it. As you slowly looked up, you made eye contact with Jiyong. Slowly, without bothering to think about what he was doing, Jiyong grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. Your breath hitched as you held his shoulders to steady yourself. And as you stared into those eyes, the eyes of the man who confused you beyond measure, he pulled you into a hungry, all consuming kiss, and with that, you lost the ability to think straight, only doing what you body told you to, which was to move closer and kiss him back.

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clan-sayeed-fic · 5 years ago

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Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

This chapter will prepare us for more action coming soon within the story. That's your last chance to catch a breath before things get more serious haha

If you read this fic so far, I recommend staying just a little longer 😅 unless you wanna miss the best part.

~ 1400 words

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Chapter 15

Amy made a promise to herself.

She decided to earn enough money to pay her debt to Kamilah for living under her roof for the last three weeks. After achieving that, she wanted to leave New York as soon as it was possible. Amy didn't feel safe there anymore since she had been told about nearly 200 vampires living in the city.

Nothing was keeping her there anymore. Moreover, things got out of hand since Kamilah started wondering about her previous identity.

Running away from the problems rather than facing them, was Amy's thing for a long time. She got used to changing places, meeting new people who had no idea about her past. And that was what exactly she wanted at that moment.

To complete that plan fast, she needed to find a good job.

That's when Adrian showed up. He offered her to work as his assistant since Nicole had left him after he turned Lily into a vampire, and didn't believe her accusations about Amy.

At first, Amy didn't want to accept the offer. She had to distance herself from this life, even if being a Bloodkeeper made it nearly impossible to accomplish. After considering Adrian's option more, she figured out that the faster she earns money, the better for her and everyone else.

"You really wanna move to a different city?" Lily used to ask her this question every day with pain in her eyes. "You made it so far in here..."

Amy had never answered her.

She wasn't sure what would happen to her in the future. And as long as she didn't want to give her best friend hope, she chose silence.

***

It was another day of her work at Raines Corporation.

For the occasion, she bought herself new outfits. One of them, which she wore that day, was a navy skirt with a jacket. Underneath it, she was wearing a pastel pink shirt.

During the day, Amy was used to wearing more sporty or casual outfits. At work, on the other hand, she always wanted to look professional. This simple change was adding the confidence that she lacked.

It was 7a.m. the hour of Adrian's arrival at work. Amy had already prepared his favorite coffee to make his day better from the start. She waited near the doors of her office, expecting Adrian to come through them in a...

3 2 1

There he was, opening the doors with a smile on his face.

"You are spoiling me, Amy," he said, smiling even wider when he took the cup from her hands.

"Someone has to," she felt comfortable around him.

Adrian had his way to make people feel relaxed around him. He showed Amy a new world. The one where she didn't have to live under anyone's protection as a prisoner. She was able to earn more than enough money for a living, attend important meetings, and share her opinion, which was always appreciated.

He even wanted to help her understand and control her abilities.

They tried this mostly at the meetings when Adrian was bringing his vampire friends without telling Amy about it. It let them observe her reactions during those irregular situations.

At first, Amy could barely control herself, fear was taking over within a second. After some time, she could manage herself just fine. To the point that there was no sign from her body language that she was nervous in any way.

Adrian wanted to test Amy's blood too, but in his world was one important rule. A human had to agree on sharing the blood. It was applying to both: feeding and doing experiments on it.

Even when Amy told him earlier that she would do anything if he saved Lily, Adrian still didn't want to push her on this issue. This had to be her decision, and Adrian was the best one when it went to respect someone's word.

"Today, I have a meeting with Kamilah," Adrian said before Amy left his office, getting her out of her thoughts.

"I know," she said, forcing a smile. "I'm sort of your assistant. I'm responsible for your schedule, you know?"

Adrian laughed lightly, he couldn't get over Amy's mix of forwardness and cuteness.

"I am aware of that," he said, his smile fading slowly with other words. "I'm sorry that I was the reason for all of this."

"Don't be," Amy said like she was talking mostly to herself. "It happened because of how messed up we both are."

***

Kamilah was a frequent guest in Adrian's company. Amy could not be surprised that they had a meeting... again.

For the last two weeks, she saw the woman several times. Each time, Amy couldn't find words around her, and Kamilah was acting cold. It made the girl give up her expectations that something would change on this point one day.

Amy heard the sound of the elevator's doors opening. She sighed quietly to herself and stood up to greet the guest.

Kamilah walked out of the elevator, and as usual, she didn't even bother to look in Amy's direction. Even so, Amy put effort and opened her mouth to say something when she saw a stopping hand gesture from the woman.

"Save it," Kamilah said, opening doors to Adrian's office and disappearing inside.

Amy stood there in shock. How could someone be so rude? She had a hard time remembering who was more guilty in their argument, after all. Moments like this made her want to run away from New York immediately, leaving everything behind without looking back.

She sat down on her chair and went back to her daily work. It was insane for her how much could Adrian had arranged for one day. It was sure that he was using his vampire speed to attend so many meetings in only 24 hours.

And that was the main reason why he needed the assistant privy to his life.

***

After two hours, the doors from Adrian's office opened. He went out with Kamilah, both smiling.

It was such an unusual look to see Kamilah's face really smiling.

"I can't believe you're going to France," Adrian hugged his best friend when they stopped in the middle of Amy's office.

"I couldn't turn down Serafine's request," she stepped back to see his face. "It's not a holiday trip.''

"I know," Adrian's grin faded. "Be careful, the Order is dangerous. If they grew even stronger..." he didn't have time to finish the sentence.

"I can handle myself," Kamilah reassured him.

Amy sat still, trying to not focus on their talk.

Which was impossible, of course.

"Are you making any progress?" the girl lifted her gaze when she realized that Kamilah asked her directly.

That she really said something to her without her full of hatred tone.

"Progress?" Amy repeated her word, making sure if the woman didn't make a mistake by speaking to her.

"In gaining control over your abilities," Kamilah watched her intensely.

So intensely that Amy had a hard time keeping her gaze.

"I guess so," she hated that her face had to blush in this exact second.

"I can see," Kamilah turned her attention back to Adrian, "I'm looking forward to your messages if something goes wrong in the city or my company."

"You have my word," he hugged her again and walked the woman to the elevator before she left.

Amy's head felt on the desk. She let out a loud groan, stress leaving her body. She wanted to hide and never show herself again.

"Come on," Adrian laughed. "It wasn't so bad."

"Are you kidding me?" Amy almost cried out from breakdown. "Didn't you hear her? Why is she so intimidating," Amy lifted her head, her hair all messed up.

"I don't know," Adrian was really rethinking her sentence. "It's Kamilah. She has to be like that," he laughed cheerfully.

Adrian knew this woman for many years. Longer than the world would ordinarily let them. That made him get used to Kamilah's attitude with time, but he also remembered the beginning of their friendship. And even if the memories were faint, he could still find an understanding of Amy's feelings.

"When will she come back?" Amy asked. She was so close to earning enough money.

"It will take a week or two," Adrian knew what she had in mind. "Don't you tell me that it is so bad."

"What?" Amy was already somewhere else in her mind.

"Working for me," he laughed at his own joke.

"It's terrible," Amy picked up his sarcastic tone. "I'm exhausted. My boss is not giving me enough free days, and he is treating me like a snack for his vampires."

They both laughed since joking around became their routine at work.

So, that was it. In a little while, Amy would be out of New York.

Starting a new life.

Next chapter: 16

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

tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #kamilah #bloodbound kamilah #bb kamilah #bloodbound mc #bb mc #adrian raines #lily spencer #bloodbound #choices bb #choices bloodbound #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fic

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h-styles-babes · 6 years ago

Text

TWO

Sia took her Sunday to cool off from her run in with Harry on Saturday evening. She vegged on the couch all day, watching a marathon of Botched while eating a batch of cookies her elderly neighbor brought over earlier in the week. She ended her night with two glasses of wine and a pasta dish that it only took her a few minutes to throw together on the stove. She’s got to be in the studio pretty early the next morning, so she allowed the wine to lull her to sleep before ten, snuggling down in her bed and pushing all thoughts of Harry Styles from her head.

When she arrived at work the next morning, carrying coffees for her boss, the current recording artist’s manager, and herself, she was perky and ready to start off her work week. She wasn’t going to let one British pop star ruin her mood when she had such a good rapport around the studio. Jeff loved her and she’d never had a problem with any of the artists they’d worked with. She wasn’t going to ruin that because she’d been a bit sour from her weekend run in.

“Morning, Anastasia,” Jeff greeted as she walked into the studio. Jeff Bhasker was quite influential in the music industry. When you had artists like Kanye West, Eminem, Pink, and basically anyone who was anyone under your belt, you were pretty much the best of the best. And Sia was more than honored when he’d handpicked her from his one visit to the UK studio she used to work at to come work with him in America. She wasn’t a producer yet—just a sound engineer with a lot to learn—but Jeff was making sure she was well on her way. However, in the months they’d been working together, Jeff had somehow turned into the equivalent of her cool uncle, and he knew it particularly annoyed her to be called by her first name—especially when her purposely pronounced it incorrectly.

“It’s Ah-na-stah-see-uh,” she corrected, pronouncing the five syllables it was instead of the four he was making it. “It’s French, not the stupid American version. And I hate when yeh call me that.” She handed him his coffee—black with one sugar packet, which she personally thought was disgusting.

Jeff pouted playfully. “You’re no fun.”

“It’s seven in the bloody morning,” she defended, turning and handing the manager, Lionel, his coffee with a tired yet pleasant smile. “I didn't even know pop stars knew this hour existed.”

“We’ve been in Japan for the last couple weeks,” Lionel shrugged, looking chipper. “Sleep schedule is still a bit off. Feels like it’s one in the afternoon for us.”

“Today’ll be a short session anyway,” Jeff assured, taking a sip of his drink. He pushed his long hair behind his ear before speaking again. “I’ve got a meeting to get to by noon.”

“Still making arrangements for that secret project yeh won’t tell me about?” Sia asked, raising an accusatory eyebrow at him as she blew at her own coffee.

“I actually wanna talk to you about that today.” He smirked when Sia’s eyes widened at the prospect. She hadn’t actually thought he’d tell her about it until after the project was already done. Did this mean she was going to be able to participate in it? “But, yes, it’s for the super secret project.”

So, for the rest of the session, once the artist showed up five minutes later, looking just as alive and peppy as their manager, Sia’s mind was stuck on finally getting to hear about the secretive meetings and constant texts and emails back and forth for the last few months. She wondered who the artist was that there was so much secrecy surrounding it. She fantasized for a few moments that it was Beyonce or Rihanna or something, but she realized it would probably be impractical for them to be making new music right then anyway. That didn’t deflate her excitement any, though, and the end of the session couldn’t come around quick enough.

It wasn’t until Sia was going around the studio, making sure everything was saved onto files and all the settings on the sound board were restored that Jeff finally sat her down.

“I have a proposition for you,” he began, scooping his hair over his shoulders and pulling it into a low ponytail. “It’s about this new project.”

“What’s your proposition?” she asked, trying not to sound like the eager puppy she felt like. She wasn’t sure how well she was containing it, though.

“An artist wants to start recording on their first album,” he began, and Sia perked up with the notion that this was someone who didn’t have a whole lot of experience. While getting to work with super famous celebrities was always fun, the prospect of getting to shape someone’s sound with them was a completely different thing. It was exciting and nerve-wracking and just altogether brilliant. “However, they want to record for two months in Jamaica.”

Sia’s brows shot up. “Jamaica? Why on earth?”

“This place is kinda a big deal,” Jeff shrugged. “Anyway, problem is that I have to finish up this project before I can move onto another one.”

“Are you turning them down?” she asked, surprised. She figured she wouldn’t’ve even known about it if Jeff had said no.

“Absolutely not. I have high hopes for this one. I don’t wanna miss out on this,” he assured. “But, since I can’t be there for a month, I need someone to step in for me until I can get out there.”

Sia’s heart stopped in her chest before picking back up at a rapid pace, nearly bursting through where it was contained behind her ribcage. “Are you—?” she asked breathlessly. Was he proposing what she thought he was proposing?

His grin told her yes. “I want you to go out there with the artist. Be the lead producer on this for awhile, see how you like it. There’s no one I trust more with this person’s music than you, Sia. Somehow, I think you’ll get along really well. They want to use live instruments, so I know that’s right up your ally.”

He was right. As much as Sia loved creating her own sounds and arrangements on the equipment, something about hearing live instruments on a track made her soul happy. She’d grown up listening to classic rock and there was no such thing as synthetic sounds, so live instruments had a special place in her heart. When an artist expressed an interest in having some guitars or drums on their tracks, she couldn’t put into words the feeling she got in her chest and the absolute elation that ran through her veins. It was like her own personal drug.

“Are yeh serious?” she breathed.

“Absolutely. I think you’ll work magic on this album, Sia.” He beamed at her and clapped a comforting hand on her knee. “You just gotta say yes.”

“When would I leave?”

“Beginning of September. So about a week.”

“Then how can I possibly say no?”

“Jamaica?” Ellen called in a bit of a squeal over the phone. Sia had to pull the device away from her ear while she was in the grocery store in order to salvage her hearing. The man that was stood in line in front of her shot her a weird look, to which she smiled apologetically.

“I know. Fuckin’ crazy, right? I’m really excited, though. Be a good opportunity for me, yeah?” Sia couldn’t help but smile as she reiterated the fact that she was going to Jamaica to be one of the main producers on an album to her friend. She was in a state of awe, really, and she wanted to constantly pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Of course it is! That’s amazing, Sia! Wish yeh could bring me with yeh,” Ellen laughed, sighing a bit wistfully for comedic effect.

Ellen and Sia had met their first year of uni back in London. They’d been paired together as roommates, and they were both delighted to find they got on really well. They’d forged a fast friendship, and Sia had been thankful when El had hardly batted an eye when she’d learnt that Sia’s boyfriend was the well-known boy-bander. She’d treated Harry like he was any other uni boy when he was over, and both Sia and Harry were grateful for the normalcy. When El had learnt of the breakup, she’d been none too kind to the boy who broke her best friend’s heart, and Sia had been grateful for that, too.

Ellen still lived in London, having been Sia’s flatmate until Sia’d made the move to LA for her job. She’d cried just as much as Sia had when they’d been at the airport before Sia left, and she missed her friend terribly, still. She’d visited LA once for Sia’s birthday just the month prior, which had been a much needed visit for the two women. They texted everyday, though, and there was a phone call at least once a week, if not more, which ensured they were still as close as ever. Sia didn’t tell El, but she was already itching to find out if there was a way to be able to get El out for a visit on the island during any point of the production.

“Me too. No idea who else is gonna be working with me,” Sia sighed.

“So yeh seriously have no idea who the artist is?”

Sia shook her head, even though her friend couldn’t see her. She cradled her mobile between her shoulder and cheek as she loaded her groceries up on the belt. “No, said it was secret until I got there. Apparently, this is supposed to be really big, so the record label doesn’t want anything getting out until they’re ready to start promo.”

“That’s fuckin’ crazy,” El acknowledged. “What if it’s, like, Kanye West or summat?”

Sia’s excited expression dropped, and she had to make sure the cashier knew the deadpan look wasn’t for him. “Don’t even joke about that. I’d back out so fast.”

El cackled on the other end of the line. “That would be just your luck wouldn’t it?”

“The only thing that could possibly be worse than working for two whole months with the likes of Kanye West, is working two whole months with Harry Styles.”

El gasped. “Could yeh imagine? What would yeh do?”

Sia sighed as her items started getting rung up. “Honestly, I’d just stick it out, either way. I need this producer credit too much. I’d be professional, obviously, but I’d probably hide away whenever we’re not working. I can’t afford to pass this opportunity up.”

“Well…” El chirped, “it’ll probably be someone like Shawn Mendes or Adele or summat, and you won’t even have to worry about trying to stay professional.”

“Hope you’re right.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #the long road home #TLRH

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neoneidolon · 5 years ago

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one year - 1/ 2/20

It’s been a year since I started this blog!

Most of you probably know that this blog holds the OC continuation of the story I started as a canon character on cubicscubedemon. The history hasn’t changed; Morpho uses what used to be their nickname back on the old blog, and they reference things that happened back when they were Amorphous Shape, so they are definitely still the same person, but they were such a tiny presence in their old canon that I feel comfortable calling them my OC now.

So! We’re basically in the epilogue, I think! After a series of huge pushes, they left their Boss and started a new life in hiding. They had a run-in with their homeworld, picked up a sibling by accident, reconnected with an old friend, made some new ones. The nature of their relationships is different now. They’ve come a long way. So what now?

Well, first of all I want to say I’m not planning on quitting yet. There are still things I want to do, or at least lay down the groundwork for happening later in the unwritten bits of Morpho’s life. Because I know how their story is going to end. I probably won’t write it here, because that’s at least a few decades in the future we’re talking about and this blog operates on sorta kinda real-ish time, but it’s a nice bittersweet ending I keep in mind. It was never going to end the way Morph *wants*, but they’ll be happy regardless, I promise.

More Things That Have Happened:

-- they started living on Earth! exactly what the version of me who ran the old blog swore up and down would never happen in the default “verse”/timeline. Past me is eating their words right now

-- on a semi-related note, wow, this blog has been running for a year and still hasn’t gained any alternate verse tags? that’s kind of impressive

-- so now when I read through the old blog archive it’s going to be an organization nightmare figuring out if the version of Morpho in a given post is the same one as in this blog or not

-- I straight up forgot that Morpho already knew their timeline’s version of their Boss was dead. In the kidnapping event, Bill told them that and they reacted like it was new information. It wasn’t. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t read the archive enough.

-- Morpho is now: 10-20% more honest! 40% more emotionally open! 4% more humble! 80% deeper into their destiny as the local eldritch witchy grandma/eccentric uncle who has seven dozen other dimensions on speed-dial!

-- they’re still working on letting go of their need to be the “better version” of their ex-Boss, but what happened in Hyperspaceland went a long, long way in proving to them that the Multiverse can have wildly unlikely good things happen in it, and that they can make a positive difference without having to do it the way they had impressed upon them for years.

-- plus, they now have friends and acquaintances who are “weird” like them, who have managed to make good lives for themselves without having to be subject to dimensional power struggles and other unwanted cosmic nonsense. They didn’t think being able to “retire”/live quietly was really possible for people like themself, so seeing otherwise is really good for them. They don’t think directly about this, though, it’s subconscious.

-- but they still have a long way to go and a lot of deep-seated issues to unravel, and now they have to raise their time-clone twin sibling and pray they don’t mess the kid up.

Things I’d Like to Happen, Either Written Here or Not:

-- Morph letting go of their instinct to manipulate situations to their favor, and also their tendency to make things more difficult by lying

-- Morpho letting go of the assumption that most people have ulterior motives, even if their history demonstrates that they have a good reason to believe that

-- Beta growing up, working out how they are and are not Morpho, simultaneously

-- Morpho reaching a point where they can be trusted to not (usually) try using people for their own personal gain, so they can finally go back to their real calling (teaching) properly this time

I worry a lot about whether I keep things consistent here, if Morpho’s still the same person they were two years ago or one year ago. They seem happier, anyway. I don’t think they would be as happy if I was just shearing off unpalatable parts of them out of misplaced fear. At the same time, they are always going to be a little bit awful!

And what about Beta? I keep saying we’re near the end, but just as Morpho’s coming in on the close of their development, Beta’s is just beginning, under totally different circumstances as her elder twin. Life as the soul of a magical alien spirit thing, in the body of an earthly creature, isn’t going to be easy for her. If I wanted, I could lean all the focus on her and get a whole new narrative out of it.

That brings me to something else I wanted to talk about. So if you’ve followed me for a while, you know this about me: for better or for worse, I always have a narrative arc in mind. There are good things and bad things about that approach, and it’s pretty easy to screw up, especially where other people are involved. And the problem with characters who develop is that it is totally possible to develop them too much, to extend their story so far that they become somebody who doesn’t resemble who they were originally. I’m worried about this happening with Morph. I’m also worried about this blog just becoming an endless series of me coming up with some arbitrary new conflict or danger or drama every time I get bored of describing their mundane life. I don’t want to bore anyone. (I know, the wisdom is to RP for yourself and your own fun, but it still involves other people and also, I need to entertain, otherwise what is the point of my story?)

This blog is... might end before this time this year. I say might, it’s not that I don’t enjoy anymore and want to quit. After that? I don’t know. Starting an art blog on Tumblr feels kind of pointless now since the platform is dying, and RP is one of the major reasons I stick around since I don’t really use my personal blog much anymore. If I don’t write here, I feel like I’m going to slip away from a lot of friends. I don’t want to lose you all. I could start a new muse, Beta or someone else, but...

I want to do something different, too.

And that brings me to the last (I think) thing, which is what form Morpho’s story might take next. Because if I DO end this blog before the beginning of next year, I wouldn’t be done with Morph by a long shot. I love them too much and there’s too much of me I sunk into them. So what would I do?

Well, I was hoping to spin a web thing with words and pictures. ...I think I’m just going to call it a web serial. No intention of ever formally publishing it. It would be the same basic arc again, but more polished and with all the Gravity Falls filed off a backstory and setting that is more original to me, plus additional new plot things and side characters. Definitely taking place in a Multiverse, though, how could it not?

coming up with a villain to replace Bill Cipher has been basically impossible but Morpho’s story can’t function without somebody in that role

Maybe this is misguided of me, maybe it will fail to launch, or launch and then fail, and attempting to run it alongside this blog is an almost guaranteed terrible idea, but I want to do it. Morpho is never going to get a book series or a TV show, so this is what I have for them. It could be pretty interesting if it works. They feel ready. And most importantly I know I can tell this long rambly story and finish it, because I’ve already done it, here with the help of a bunch of writers--friends-- that I admire. Morpho wouldn’t have made it this far without you.

When is it coming? I don’t really know. Work on the first installments is happening, but it’s slow, and there’s key things I don’t know yet. Most of it is going to be flying by the seat of my pants, making it up as I go (but y’know, making it up better, with slightly less improvisation than I usually employ here). I’m graduating from community college in mid March of this year, which is going to be a major life change that is probably going to turn my life completely upside down. Maybe I will suddenly not have any time for creating anything, be it an RP blog or a web serial, much less both! haha I’m terrified

But with luck, I’m hoping that what I am tentatively calling Amos vs. Everything will be out soon. Like, really soon. Some point between late January and when I graduate. (Now I just have to A. figure out where I’m hosting this thing and B. graduate. It would be really embarrassing if I flunked out of my last semester of school.)

I can see it now: somebody going “who the heck is ‘Amos’? The main character’s name is Morpho!” and I will smile and say ‘wait and see’ because they don’t know, but you. You all know.

And that’s about it! This is but a small and humble blog, and I like it that way. I appreciate every one of you who are here at time of writing. For the ones I don’t manage to interact with much-- I’m useless and shy. Poke me, reasonably. If you’re just here to spectate, that’s cool too. :D For the ones who come write here a lot, or did once-- you built this house.

Okay I should stop now or I’ll be sitting here forever! I can’t believe you read all this! Thank you all for everything and Happy New Year!

#ooc #one year blog retrospect #warning: very very very long and sentimental post #there is an announcement in there but I'm crazy nervous about it #i almost hope it gets overlooked even thought i want it to work out

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dovechim · 7 years ago

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discipline and punish (m)

➾ 5.7k

➾ sub!jeon x noona reader

➾ warnings: degradation, humiliation, chastity cage, rutting, spitting, unprotected sex, creampie, creampie eating, aftercare

➾ summary: when your brat of a boyfriend shows up unexpectedly at your workplace, you decide you have to teach him a lesson.

The air conditioning is blasting a cool breeze over your skin, and you wiggle your toes happily at your desk. Your 9-6 office job might be boring, but with the terrible job market nowadays, you’re just glad you’re managing to make a living like this. Never mind that working in a health insurance company was nothing like your ideal job that you’d imagined back upon entering university, as long as it pays the bills, you’ll do it alright.

Besides, it isn’t hard work, getting paid to sit here for eight hours. It could easily be worse.

“Hey!” Your co-worker Jennie whispers under her breath from her desk next to yours.

Barely holding back a roll of your eyes, you turn toward her, pasting a smile on your face. You’ve only been sitting beside this girl for the past three weeks, but you see straight past her fake, cute smile and cheery exterior. Everyone seems to love her, but the way her over exaggerated smile drops into a stony bitch face in the blink of an eye rubs you the wrong way.

“Have you been to the new gym yet? It’s part of our new employee benefits, we’re all getting free membership!”

Your eyes skim down her fit and slim body, clad in the tiny, skimpy crop spaghetti top and equally short miniskirt. You wonder how she isn’t freezing her ass off under the chilly air. “Oh? I haven’t heard.”

“Anyway, there’s a really hot new instructor teaching flying yoga, and he always teaches it shirtless. Rumours have it that he is such a flirt, and single too. You should really try going to the gym more often, you know,” Jennie tips her chin up at you, looking down the length of her nose. “As employees of a health insurance company, don’t you think we should uphold a healthy image more than anyone?”

Ah, yes. Just when you begin to question your morals for disliking someone simply because of their resting bitch face, Jennie always gives you a reason to justify that dislike. Turning back to your computer to click inanely at a few emails, you can’t hold back your eye roll as you answer her noncommittally. “Sure.”

Just before Jennie can say something else about your less than stellar physique, your boss Irene strides by, out of breath and clutching several files. You immediately sit up straight in your seat, pulling up one of your excel sheets that you’d been working on.

“Hey, I need someone from marketing to come by our gym and take some photos of our new facilities so that we can generate some new collaterals. You up for it?” Irene places a hand on the back of your chair.

“S-sure! Let me just get my camera.” You’re a little miffed to have to move from your comfy seat into a sweaty, smelly gym to take pictures of people who are a shit ton more motivated than you are, but whatever your boss says, goes.

Reluctantly, you slide your feet out of your flip flops and into your uncomfortable six inch stilettos that make your legs go on for miles, and gives you an ass that makes you look like you do a hundred squats every day. The baby blue pointed heels with laser cutouts running up each side are impractical, and you nearly die getting to work every day. That’s why you keep a pair of flipflops at your desk to lounge in, and for short trips to the pantry or the washroom.

You leave your workstation after locking your computer, making your way to the lift lobbies since the gym is located one floor above the main office. Already, your feet are starting to pinch, and you shift your weight uncomfortably, hoping to get this over as quickly as possible.

You approach the counter manned by a bored looking girl fiddling around with her phone to ask for the current schedule of classes, only to find out that she can’t release such sensitive information to you. Just as you’re about to tear into her in your impatience, she directs you to one of the studios where a flying yoga class is just wrapping up, and despite yourself, there is a little flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach upon potentially seeing this hot new yoga instructor that Jennie mentioned.

When you manage to find the right studio, you knock politely on the door, hoping to interrupt their session as little as possible. A familiar voice acknowledges you, and you open the door a tad to peek inside.

Immediately, your eyes are assuaged by way too much bare, sweaty skin for this early in the morning, but you force your eyes upwards towards safer territory, and nearly trip over your own heels in surprise.

Jeon Jeongguk’s hair is matted with sweat that drips off his porcelain skin, rivulets of them trailing down his toned, bare torso. True to Jennie’s words, he is only clad in a pair of exercise shorts that are tight around his bulging thighs, and you can see every line of his body, including his trim little waist that boasts a set of defined abs. His raven black hair has been getting long recently, but your boyfriend refuses to get it trimmed because he says he’s into the more emo vibe these days. Whatever that means.

When he catches a glimpse of you, clad in your pencil skirt and heels, he swallows hard, gaze lingering on the petite curve of your waist even as you can see the slightly panicky look in his eyes. For a moment, the two of you are stock still, both a little taken aback at seeing the other in such a setting.

But then you clench your fist as anger bubbles up in your chest. Your boyfriend knew very well what company you work for, so it can’t have been a coincidence that he shows up to work for the very gym that has exclusive partnerships with your company. There’s only one explanation for this: the little brat is doing this on purpose.

A soft, high pitched cry of distress takes Jeongguk’s attention away from you, and he immediately dashes to the centre of the room to help out a girl who is currently tangled in the air, dangling precariously. You watch with narrowed eyes as he places his hands on her bare waist, given as she’s only wearing a sports bra with leggings, to set her upright again. She places her hands all over his bare chest as she regains her bearings, letting her touch linger unnecessarily as she clutches at him desperately, breathing hard as if she just had a near death experience.

Over the sultry music, you can’t hear what Jeongguk murmurs to her, but whatever it is, it has the girl looking up at him with adoration. Jeongguk helps to untangle the fabric that got caught around her thigh, and a fire burns in your chest as you have to witness his hands on her.

You avert your gaze, fiddling with the controls of your camera as you look around the entire studio. The lighting is dimmed, creating a seductive atmosphere that immediately makes you feel a little sweaty yourself, despite not having moved a single muscle yet. There are about four students in this class in total, but the entire capacity can take up to ten, judging by the empty slings left over. The rest of the girls are currently upside down, with the fabric of the supporting sling tight over their toned thighs, breasts spilling out of their sports bras. You recognise them as employees from your company, Solbin from Operations, Yeri from Claims, Somi from Complaints and Ryu Jin from Sales, the one who’d had her filthy hands all over your boyfriend.

You don’t realise that Jeongguk has left his student and is approaching you till you feel his warm breath stir your hair.

“N-Noona, what are you doing here?”

“That’s my line, you little brat,” you stare him down with your arms crossed over your chest. With your glorious six inch heels, you are nearly as tall as he is, and you silently praise yourself for having the foresight to wear your tallest pair today. Being eye to eye like this certainly helps you feel less intimidated than if you were at your normal height with a face full of his sweaty, toned chest. “Looks like you’re settling into your job well, hmmm? So well that you forgot to tell me you even started working here in the first place.”

“I can explain,” he says desperately, reaching for your waist with his large hands, but you step out of his reach just in time.

“We’ll talk about this at home,” the tone of your voice immediately has him freezing in his tracks, and he knows better than anyone what it means. He keeps his hands to himself as he tucks his chin into his chest, deferring his gaze as he fidgets nervously under your imposing glare.

“I’m here for work. I need to take a few pictures of you conducting classes for our employees,” you’re all too aware of the curious stares of his students as to why he’s stopped the class for such a long time, and paste on a professional smile, straightening your posture. If these ladies get a whiff of the news that you’re dating a younger man, gossip will spread like wildfire, and everyone in the office will know about it by tomorrow. “Please, resume with your class and pretend that I’m not even here.”

“O-okay, sure,” Jeongguk is still a little unsure of himself, but ever the gentleman, he pulls a chair from the corner of the room towards you. When his eyes drop to your short skirt, he picks up his discarded hoodie from the floor and offers it to you. “Please take a seat, miss. Make yourself comfortable.”

You almost groan in relief as you sink down on the chair, taking the pressure off your feet as you watch Jeongguk stride back to the front of the room to his own sling, eyes firmly fixed on every bulge and flex of his thighs. You drape his hoodie over your thighs to cover yourself, picking up your camera to get a few shots of the rest of the class as Jeongguk gets himself settled into his sling, sitting comfortably as he directs the class to position themselves upright again.

With everyone the right way up again, Jeongguk gets to his feet, stepping into his sling and winding the fabric around his hands twice, using it to pull himself up higher. His biceps are bulging as he lets his legs spread, hooking them around the fabric as he extends one leg behind him in graceful poise. The fabric of his shorts have ridden up to reveal the straining of his thighs, and you can see the tightening of his abs as his core works hard to keep him upright in the air.

Jeongguk spares you a glance to make sure that you’re watching before he has the gall to grind his hips into the fabric that is tight against his crotch, making your throat go dry immediately.

He turns to address the class, instructing them to mimic his actions to get into a similar position. The rest of the girls are currently sighing and cooing over his body, giggling at each other, and you can imagine their eyes wandering over every inch of him. With varying degrees of success, they attempt to copy Jeongguk’s pose, and you snap a few pictures of their faces, red with exertion. A satisfied smile spreads across your face as you capture a particularly unglamourous shot of Ryu Jin with her face all scrunched up. This will definitely be going on a poster, the bigger the better.

Jeonguk lets the fabric unravel from his grip, untangling his thighs skilfully and stepping down from his sling in order to provide assistance to his students. Immediately, a few voices call out over the music, asking for his attention, and you can see the confident smirk on Jeongguk’s face as he goes from student to student, lithe hands moving them into position. To his credit, he remains entirely appropriate with them, never lingering his touch upon bare skin if he can help it. But the look on his face is entirely insufferable, all too confident as the women ooh and ah over him.

Just as you’re making an effort to calm your breathing, lest Jeongguk think you might be jealous- heavens forbid- Jeongguk glances over at you, damp raven hair falling into his eyes as he checks your reaction. Solbin places a hand on his chest daringly, and Jeongguk has the guts to give you a little wink as he casts his glance down straight into her cleavage.

Your blood boils in your veins.

Ripping his hoodie off your lap, you throw it to the ground in a rage, power walking out of the studio in your heels and letting the door slam behind you.

You are a mess the rest of the day at work.

Jennie peers over the divide with false concern written all over her face, but you ignore her attempts at socialising, focusing on completing the rest of your spreadsheets. Your phone vibrates on the table, catching your attention.

Once the clock hits 6pm, you click save on your spreadsheets, shutting your workstation down and shoving your feet into your heels. The whole way home, your jaw is clenched, and you’re so caught up in thinking of ways of just how to punish one Jeon Jeongguk, that you don’t even notice the discomfort of your heels like you usually would.

Jeongguk is already home before you, evident from his sneakers hastily discarded at the front door. Instead of relieving yourself of your heels and leaving them at the door like you normally would, you walk straight into the living room, your heels clicking against the marble floor, announcing your return.

Jeongguk immediately comes bounding out, having evidently just finished a shower. There is a towel slung low on his hips, once more revealing his naked torso, but it only enrages you further. It seems like your boyfriend has difficulty keeping a damn shirt on, and judging by the cocky smirk on his lips, he isn’t as sorry as he made himself out to be.

“On your knees. Now.” Your tone brooks no argument. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Jeongguk drops to his knees immediately, sitting back on his heels and waiting for your next instructions.

“Crawl on your hands and knees over here.”

Jeongguk hesitates for a moment, before complying as he lowers himself to the ground and crawls towards your heels. His back muscles ripple, and his biceps tighten under his weight as he makes his way over slowly. When he reaches you, he glances up at you with those doe eyes of his, and you settle a hand over his still damp hair.

“Look at how pathetic you are. Crawling over here like a pretty little slut. I bet you liked all those women having their hands all over you today, hmmm?” You stroke his cheek gently, letting your thumb trail down to his chin and ghost over his bottom lip. “Did your baby cock get hard when you were teaching your class? Is that why you rubbed yourself against the sling like a dirty slut?”

Jeongguk whimpers under your touch, but he knows better than to speak when he isn’t allowed to. Pleased, you pet his cheek gently.

“Good pet. At least you know how to keep your dirty mouth shut when you need to.”

Reaching behind you, you undo the zipper on your blouse, bringing it over your head to reveal your navy lace bra. You can see Jeongguk’s eyes straining to get a glimpse of your breasts as they’re revealed, but not daring to move a single inch, he can only stay put. You lower the zipper on your pencil skirt as well, and the waist slackens around you.

“Use that dirty mouth to pull down my skirt, pet. No hands, or I’ll spank that pretty ass of yours bright red.”

Jeongguk jerks his chin up immediately, doe eyes fixed on the generous swell of your breasts, eating up every single inch of your bare skin as he closes his teeth around the fabric of your skirt. He tugs in down in small little pulls, easing the garment over the swell of your hips to reveal your matching underwear. His movements bring his face painfully close to your crotch, and Jeongguk can’t help but inhale the scent of you, pressing his nose into the apex of your thighs.

You tangle a hand deep in his hair to jerk him away, hearing him whine in pain.

“Did I say you could touch me, slut? You may speak, pet.”

“N-no, I’m sorry,” Jeongguk’s voice trembles as he casts his gaze downwards. “I couldn’t help it, you’re so beautiful, and you smell so good-“

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear it,” you release your grip on his hair. “Now, wait here while I slip into something a little more comfortable.”

Reaching down to pull the towel from his hips, you leave him naked and kneeling in the living room, cock straining and already dripping with precum. You make sure to add an extra sway to your hips, aided by your heels, feeling his eyes on your ass boosting your confidence as you walk into your shared bedroom.

Pulling out your favourite lace white babydoll, you shed your undergarments and slip into it, leaving your lower half barely covered by the flaps on the front of the garment. You then reach for a small little box in your bedside drawer for something you’d ordered off Amazon a long time ago for Jeongguk, but never having the guts to actually show him, you’d kept it hidden all this while.

When you come out of the room holding the little cardboard box, Jeongguk’s eyes are immediately on you, eating up the mesmerizing sight of you clad in white lingerie and striding towards him with your heels on. Every stride gives him just a little peek of your core as the flaps separate, and Jeongguk’s eyes are glued to the apex of your thighs.

“I think a naughty pet needs to be punished.” You regain his attention by opening the cardboard box and showing him what’s inside.

You can see Jeongguk’s complexion visibly pale as he swallows hard.

Inside the box is a metal contraption, a chastity cage, to be more specific, with a tiny little padlock. The entire device curves slightly to fit the shape of a penis, and you take it out of the box, kneeling down in front of him to give his cock a few strokes.

“You know your safe word, right pet? Say it for me once,” Squeezing the head of his cock elicits a whine from him.

“Yes, mistress,” Jeongguk watches as you unlock the padlock on the device, and separate the ring at the base from the interconnecting parts. “T-tracer.”

“Good boy. Babybun, you’re so wet that I don’t even need any lube, what a slut you are, just from seeing me in my bra and panties?” You coo, spreading his precum down his length and using it to slick up the chastity cage’s various parts.

You’d read the instructions numerous times in preparation of the day you’d finally get to use it on Jeongguk, so you’re more than prepared for this moment. You slide the bottom ring around the base of his cock, bringing the shaft of the cage over the head of him. It slides down without a hitch to meet the ring at his base, trapping his balls between the ring and the shaft of the device. His erection is confined in the small space of the cage, squeezing him tightly as his precum continues to drip from his engorged head, leaking from between the bars of it as you secure the lock, constantly checking in with him to make sure everything is okay.

“Colour?”

“Green.”

“Good. Now this is what happens to naughty pets and their baby cocks,” you wipe his precum on his thighs, pushing yourself to your feet. The key to the padlock is on an elastic loop that you slip over your wrist. “Now you can’t touch your needy little cock like you’re dying to, hmm?”

His normally rather fairly sized erection looks sad and pathetic in the cock cage, its fat head being squeezed to the point of it hurting.

“Come here, honeybun, lie down on the couch,” you stroke his cheek, holding out your hand to help him to his feet. He gets to his feet shakily, thighs trembling with exertion as he grasps your hand tightly in his.

With an arm around his waist, comforting him gently, you help him lie down on the couch, bidding him to spread his legs wide.

“Look at you, all wet and dripping for me. Are you that desperate to cum? Your little cock looks so pink, I bet it’s throbbing in that little cage, hmm?” You spread your legs, sitting on his lower abdomen and feeling his muscles tighten as he feels your wet, sticky core against his skin.

Your fingers dance circles around his sensitive nipples, and Jeongguk whines low in his throat.

“You like it when I touch you here, bunbun? Answer me, pet.”

“Y-yes, it feels so good, I love it,” Jeongguk presses his head back into the soft cushion, eyes scrunched up in a delicate mix of pain and pleasure.

“What a good boy you are,” you lavish praise onto him as you kiss his cheek, your hands on his chest pushing you into a standing position. “I think you deserve a reward, hmm?

Positioning yourself beside his hips, you raise your leg and place your heel between his thighs, coming dangerously close to his trembling muscles and his aching, restricted cock.

“Sit up, baby. Rub your little cock on my leg.”

Jeongguk sits up immediately, bringing his thighs together as he struggles onto his knees. His cock comes into contact with your calf, and he begins to hump your leg like a desperate bitch in heat, breaths coming in heavy pants as his hips work furiously, chasing his high against the soft skin of your leg.

“There we go, look at how pathetic you are, humping my leg like a dog. Is this what you wanted? When you were humping that sling like a dirty little boy?”

“Y-yes, ple-ease, wanna cum, please l-let me,” Jeongguk is sobbing now, his cock so red and hard in his little cage.

“Look at how small your cock is,” you lift your thigh, placing the heel of your shoe against his inner thigh carefully, applying the lightest pressure to his sensitive skin. In the cage, your stiletto heel dwarfs his cock. “Smaller than my heels, how pathetic.”

Confined behind the bars of the cage, rubbing against your leg doesn’t offer enough stimulation for him to get off. Panting with exertion, he lets out a frustrated little sob as he sits back on his heels, looking up at you with tear filled eyes and a wobbling lip.

“Oh, is my baby all worked up? Get on the floor on your knees. I want to see you beg.”

Jeongguk pushes himself off the couch with trembling muscles, getting on his knees with his humiliated cock between his thighs. You can see his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles are white, tear stained cheeks glistening as he bites his lower lip hard. His cock droops between his legs, weighted down by the cage when it would normally be standing proud against his belly.

“Lick my heels.”

Jeongguk draws in a trembling breath, eyes wide as he gazes up at you. You like to engage in a little power play with him every now and then, making him beg and plead to get him off, but you’ve never taken things to this extent before. Degradation and humiliation was something that the two of you had discussed before, but that was more to do with name calling and orgasm denial rather than anything like this. Jeongguk hesitates as he considers your stilettos. Your legs look amazing as fuck in them, and your ass even more spectacular, but still- “N-noona…”

“Colour, babyboy?”

“G-green.”

“Then go on. Use your dirty tongue and lick my heels and maybe I’ll let you eat my pussy. You want to taste me, little bun?” You stroke his cheek soothingly, pushing his head down toward your feet. “You’ll have to earn it.”

Jeongguk lowers himself so that his cheek is against the floor, jaw level with your heels. Sticking out his tongue cautiously, he licks up the length of your 6 inch stilettos. Glancing down, you witness the way he glides over your heels with his tongue, slicking them up with his saliva as he remains prostrate at your feet, muscles straining to keep him in position as his tears dry on his cheeks. In his current position, his caged cock rubs against the carpeted floor, and Jeongguk can’t help but rut against the soft surface in desperation.

You spread your thighs apart for him, gesturing for him to situate his head between your heels as he continues to lick at them, giving him a prime view of your dripping pussy in this position. The sight of your wet cunt spurs Jeongguk on as he switches to your opposite foot.

“Good boy, now sit up and give me your tongue.”

Jeongguk pushes himself up immediately, burying his face in between your thighs messily as his tongue fumbles at your folds. He hooks a thigh over his shoulder, hands spreading you wide as his lips close around your clit, suckling sinfully. You buck your hips into his face, wobbling unsteadily on your heels as your nerves are singed a raw pink, but Jeongguk helps to support you by wrapping an arm around your hips.

“Fuck, yes, right there, so good for me baby bun,” you gasp, running your fingers through his hair. “Two fingers, spread me open.”

Jeongguk obeys, sinking two of his long fingers into your cunt and focusing his attention on your aching clit. He curls them expertly to hit your sweet spot, fucking you open with wet, sloppy sounds as you drip all over his face. He drinks up every drop more than willingly, and with a particular suck of his lips, and a twist of his fingers, you are coming all over his tongue, arousal coating his cheeks as you whimper above him.

He helps you ride out your orgasm, cleaning your inner thighs of your juices as you push his head away.

“Shit, you’re so good, babybun,” you’re panting, thigh trembling as you lower it back down onto the ground. “Stand up, let me kiss that dirty mouth of yours.”

Jeongguk gets to his feet, lips chasing after your kiss impatiently as you wrap your arms around his trim waist, stroking his sides soothingly. Your lips clash, and you can taste your own essence upon him as you kiss him with sloppy licks. Jeongguk parts his lips, and a rush of saltiness floods your mouth. That’s when you realise he’d been saving some of your cum in his mouth, and after swallowing some of it, you pass the rest of it back to him sloppily, tongues fighting and clashing against each other as you moan against him and he swallows the rest.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking dirty, you little slut,” you draw away, lips swollen. But Jeongguk is in a far worse condition, lips still stained with your cum and your kisses, eyes dark with lust. Your eyes trail down his heaving chest, to his perky, tiny little nipples and his taut abdomen drenched with sweat, and finally to his still encaged cock.

“You’ve been a good boy, taken your punishment so well, hmm? Look at your tiny little baby cock, so hard all for me. You think any of those girls would want your small, worthless cock? Especially in your little cage?” Your words are harsh, but your touches are gentle as you guide him into a seated position on the couch, stroking his tense muscles with a soothing palm. “Answer me.”

“N-no, my cock is only yours. Do-don’t want anyone else to touch it, only you, noona,” Jeongguk begs earnestly, his thighs spread wide as he thrusts his hips uselessly into the air, seeking out friction for his needy little cock.

“That’s my baby boy,” pleased with his answer, you reach for the key hanging on your wrist, unlocking the padlock. You slip the cage off him carefully with teasing touches, stroking his aching cock with your thumb over his weeping head as he sobs and whines under you.

“Open your slutty mouth,” you order, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jeongguk obeys, and you spit a thick glob, remnants of your cum mixed in with your saliva landing in his mouth.

“Swallow.”

And he does, “th-thank you, Mistress.”

“That’s a good baby bun.”

Parting your thighs, you rub his head against your core, giving him a firm stroke before you sink down all the way, taking him balls deep. Jeongguk grunts and sobs under you, his hands coming to grasp your hips to pull you down onto him more firmly. Biting your lip hard, you rock against him as he spreads you apart, his generous length spearing you, not that you would ever admit it to him in this persona. You tighten your walls around him hard, making him flinch and cry out under you, and tears are flowing down his cheeks anew.

“Mhmm, does your babycock feel good in my pussy? How does it feel fucking me with a cock that’s shorter and smaller than my stilettos?” You whisper in his ear, feeling his cock throb inside of you as you goad him on. “You’re so small, I can barely even feel anything.”

“N-noona, it feels too good, I can’t hold it,” Jeongguk’s hips are smashing into yours, his voice caught in his chest as he fucks up into your battered cunt.

“One day I’m gonna fuck your pretty ass, split it open with a dildo way bigger than your pathetic little cock. Tear your ass apart as I stroke your tiny babycock. Would you like that? I think your ass would look gorgeous with a huge cock buried inside it, hmm?”

“Y-yes, I love it, I’m a slut, only for you, no-noona,” Jeongguk is short of breath, his voice almost cracking as pretty tears are streaming down his face, and his mouth stretches open into a wide o of desperation at how tight your pussy feels around him. “Guh-gonna cum, where can I cum?”

“Where do you wanna cum, pretty boy?” You stroke his cheek tenderly, pressing kisses into his collarbone and marking him up till he’s all bruised and whining, bouncing on his cock. “Tell me, pet.”

“Pussy, please let me cum in your pussy,” Jeongguk groans, fingers tightening around the flesh of your hips as he continues to drive his cock deep into you, thighs straining with every thrust. You can feel his length swell inside you, his cockhead hitting your cervix hard.

“Then cum, babyboy. Fill me up so good with your dirty cum.”

Jeongguk’s thrusts are getting sloppy, and his whines and sobs are increasingly high pitched as he slams his cock in deep, spurting ropes of hot cum into your womb. You make sure to milk him dry with every squeeze of your walls, and his palms grope your ass as he empties the contents of his balls into you.

You can feel the cum starting to slide down his length as he fucks it back into you sloppily, riding out the last few spurts with a fucked out look of bliss on his features. After a while, he pulls away in overstimulation, his softening length slipping out of you. Before the cum can drip down your inner thigh, you cup your mound with a palm, pushing yourself off him.

“You didn’t think we were done, right pet? On your back, on the floor.”

Jeongguk is still coming down from his high as he struggles to comply. With his back against the plush carpet, his chest is still heaving from exertion as he glances up at you. Your hand is still cupping your mound as you position yourself over his face, placing one heeled foot onto his chest and applying a little pressure so that the pointed heel digs into his chest. He whines in discomfort, but his hands close around your ankle, pressing your shoe into his chest.

“What a little painslut you are. Mouth open, tongue out for Mistress.”

You position your cunt over his mouth as best as you can, and remove your palm, feeling the thick semen start to leak from your pussy almost immediately. Jeongguk opens his mouth eagerly once he catches on, tongue out to catch every drop of cum as it leaks from you. His cum drips out of you, some of it landing on his cheeks, but he manages to catch and swallow a good amount of it.

“That’s it, clean your dirty cum from my pussy. I don’t want a single drop left.”

You spread your lips for his viewing pleasure, rubbing your clit and feeling your walls clench in response, which results in a huge glob of cum splattering onto his face, and Jeongguk struggling to swallow it all. When there’s no more cum left, you collapse onto the couch, thighs spread and he proceeds to lick up the rest of his release from your folds, cleaning you thoroughly.

When he’s done, he places a tender kiss on both of your thighs, resting back on his heels in exhaustion.

“You did so well, babyguk,” you grin at him, tugging at his wrist to get him to take your place on the couch. “Let me get you some water and clean you up.”

You kick off the killer heels, padding to the kitchen barefoot to pour him a glass of warm water, as well as a soft, damp towel with which to clean him up with. Stopping briefly to pee, you try to be as quick as possible so as not to keep him waiting too long. When you come back to the living room, Jeongguk’s eyes are drooping already, but he visibly perks up at the sight of you.

“Drink up,” you hand him the glass of water, watching him down in a few thirsty gulps as you wipe at his cheeks gently, cleaning up his dried tears before wiping between his legs, taking extra caution around his soft cock. “Was that okay?”

Jeongguk sets the glass aside on the table beside the couch, a low whine in his throat as he demands for your attention while you make sure that you clean him up properly. But he is an impatient little brat, and he reaches down to toss the towel aside before you finish and gather you into his arms, pushing his head between your breasts just how he likes it.

“Was good. I liked it,” he murmurs against your skin, eyelids drooping. “Never told me you had that hidden away.”

Jeongguk always speaks in short, incomplete sentences when he’s fucked out like this, and it’s adorable. He buries his nose into your chest, a grunt of approval in his throat when you push down the neckline of your babydoll so that he can playfully suckle on your breasts.

“I have plenty more up my sleeve in case you’re a little brat again.”

#bts #bts smut #bangtan bookclub #kwriterskollection #btsmaknaenet #bts jungkook #bts jungkook smut #jungkook smut #pls dont ask what this was

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itsallavengers · 7 years ago

Text

Avengers Heist AU

So I had ideas for a new story last night. What it says on the tin, basically. This comes in at about 3k.

“Anthony? Can I speak to you in my office for a moment?”

From his desk at the back of the room, Anthony Edward Stark could just about make out the overly large outline of his boss above the cubicle walls and indoor plant decoration that littered the company office floor. It was instinct more than anything that had him glance upward, over to the reflective black panelling that lined the ceiling, just to get a glimpse of the guy’s face. It was 8am on a Monday morning- if it was an Angry you’re-in-shit-for-doing-something-I-didn’t-ask-again Face, then Tony wanted to mentally prepare himself for it at the very least.

But it was’t. There was just mild concern, perhaps even pity, there. Which was slightly confusing.

Standing slowly, he peered above the cubicle walls and looked at Scott across the room. He’d done the background checks months before coming here- pretty boring guy, no wife or kids, history of heart problems in the family that was undoubtedly going to bite him in the ass one day. But he did an okay job of running the IT firm, so Tony could deal with having him as a boss until he found something better. When he caught the guy’s eyes, he got another weirdly pitiful look sent his way, which only deepened his confusion. But he tamped down on it and quickly slipped out of his little cubicle, making his way over to the office on the other end of the room.

The office itself was almost as boring as the man who owned it. Beige and grey and boring, with a small green plant thingy in the corner to try and give the impression that at least something lived in here. It didn’t quite work- the leaves were yellowing in the corners, and seemed as weary as everything else in the room. After a quick observance, Tony sat slowly in the chair opposite Scott’s desk, looking at him neutrally. “So- what’s the occasion?” He asked, pressing the tips of his fingers together and trying to feign some grain of interest.

Scott opened his mouth, and then pressed it shut again with a sigh. The pitying look was back. “I received a phone call just now. It was... it was from your sister.”

Well that certainly gave him a pause.

Okay, so he could admit, his first instinct was to tell Scott he didn’t have a sister. So sue him, but he was rusty- he’d been out of the game for a long time. Of course, it was only a brief flicker of a notion. The thief in him knew that mistakes of that calibre were rarely coincidental, and often parts of larger plans. So he kept his mouth shut on that front, and instead cocked his head and blinked once, conveying his own sense of confusion. “Oh? Which one?” He asked instead, because if he had a sister now, he might as well try and get her name.

“Natalie,” Scott smiled sadly, fiddling with his hands. “She said you weren’t answering your phone, so she called me instead.”

Tony felt his eyebrows raise, just a fraction, and his heart sped up two or three paces. Natalie. Goddamn it- Natasha, what the fuck was she doing calling? He’d made them promise to leave him out of it all. They’d agreed. He wasn’t a criminal any more, he was good, he didn’t want mixing up in any of that- they’d promised that unless it was an emergency-

Oh.

Oh, shit.

“What did she say?” He asked slowly, sitting straighter. Just like that, his internal switch had been flicked- this wasn’t Anthony Edwards, 29 year-old tecchie from Massachusetts anymore. It was Tony Stark, billionaire art-thief and hacking genius. And it looked like he was in trouble.

Scott sighed, leaning back on his chair. Knees spread, attempt at openness. Head cocked, eyebrows drawn. Empathy. “It’s your mother. She’s been taken seriously ill this morning- they’re taking her to hospital now, but-” he paused, sighing again. Faked sadness to convey emotional support. “I’m so sorry, Anthony, but Natalie said that she may not make it.”

Now, anyone who knew Tony knew that his mother had died when he was seventeen in a car accident. “Oh my God,” he said in horror, a hand going to his mouth as he jumped from the chair. “Oh, oh my... Scott, please, I know I’m on shift right now, but-”

“Of course, of course,” Scott waved him off, smiling sadly. “You need to go and see her. Take a few days leave- I can imagine you’ll want to spend them with family in these trying times.”

Tony pursed his lips, nodding softly and then sniffing. It had been a while since he’d tried to fake cry, but... yeah, yep, he still had the knack. A single tear slipped from his cheek, and he nodded again, stepping backward out of the room. “Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you, I... thank you, Scott. I need to.. yeah-”

“Go, go,” Scott made a gesture to the door, “your sister said there should be a taxi waiting at the front for you. I- I’m so sorry, Anthony.”

Tony smiled wetly, and stumbled out of the room, wiping his eyes. He clocked the nearest exit- not via the elevator, but down the little stairwell at the end of the room, leading out to the back alleys. Being inconspicuous was key here. Stopping briefly at his desk, he grabbed the jacket hung over his chair and then opened his drawer, picking out his keys whilst tucking his semi automatic into the folds of his coat. The message had been vague, and not one of their old codes- Tony had no idea what the situation was, and whether or not he was in danger. Better safe than sorry, really.

He slipped quietly down the stairs, head down, shades on, but eyes searching. The jacket was clutched to his midsection and hiding his gun, just in case of a confrontation on the stairwell, but he doubted that would happen. Natasha wasn’t going to let him just walk into danger like that.

The air outside was cold- a brisk November morning. He looked both ways down the alley before stepping out of the door, and then turned out onto the main road. Of course, parked right outside the exit was a sleek back car. Tony’s sleek black car, for that matter. He was going to have to have words with Romanov about stealing other people’s things in order to make an entrance.

And of course, she’d known this was the route he’d take out onto the streets. They’d worked together for ten goddamned years, after all- the whole team undoubtedly knew how his mind worked by that point, even after he’d split off. With a small sigh, he hurried forward, boots splashing in the puddles. He watched as the backseat window rolled down, revealing curly red hair and a massive pair of shades, finished off with a crimson coloured smile that still managed to make Tony fear for his life a bit. Seemed she hadn’t lost her knack- doubted she ever would, to be honest.

“Brother,” she declared, without turning to face him. “We need to hurry. Mother doesn’t have long left.”

“Oh, this is terrible,” Tony lamented without changing a single expression on his face, folding his arms and looking at her from across the sidewalk. “Truly, truly awful. I cannot believe mother is so ill, this was so sudden and completely out of the fucking blue-”

She finally turned to him then, and even without the eyes on show, she still managed to look at him with a very unimpressed glare. “Just get in the damn car, Tony.”

“Anthony.”

“What?”

“My name,” he said gruffly, stepping around to the other side of the car and then opening the door to slip inside, “is Anthony now. You know that.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then pulled off her glasses, revealing those piercing eyes. “You fucking hate it when people call you Anthony.”

“Well I obviously don’t, because that’s what everyone knows me as now.”

Natasha raised a single eyebrow, before turning back to face forward. “A Monet from my personal collection says you still call yourself Tony in your head,” she stated, the tiniest hint of smugness in her voice.

Tony stared at her. Then he folded his arms and turned away. “Do not,” he muttered, and both of them knew it was a bald-faced lie. “Anyway, you don’t even have the Monet any more. Don’t make bets you can’t keep.”

“And how do you know I don’t still have it, Anthony?”

He grit his teeth and huffed, choosing to ignore the question that could be answered simply with ‘I hack in and monitor how you’re all doing every month to check you haven’t died yet’ in favour of asking his own question. “What am I doing here, Natasha? You know I’m out. I don’t steal shit any more, I don’t counterfeit or hack or commit fraud or con people, I am on the straight and fucking narrow, so let me tell you, this better be fucking good or I’m gonna-”

“It’s Steve.”

Anything else Tony had been about to say died spectacularly quickly on his tongue, and his face froze up.

Steve.

...Fuck.

“What,” he asked, voice wavering at the end as his mind ran through a hundred different variations of terrible situations. “Is he- he dead? Did someone- what-”

“Not yet,” she said grimly, fingers smoothing out the folds of her slacks, “but he is in trouble. Which is why we’re calling you in.” She turned to him, her face just the slightest bit sympathetic. “You know we wouldn’t ask this of you if we had any other choice. But you’re the best, Tony. We need you back. He needs you.”

Tony spasmed a little, and then shook his head. He’d goddamned promised himself that he wasn’t going to... this was in his past- Steve was in his past, and it had damn near broken him the first time around, he wasn’t sure he could handle that again.

But if what Natasha was saying was right, then Steve was in trouble. And God fucking dammit, Tony could never, ever just walk away from that. “What the fuck happened?” He hissed.

She pursed her lips and then breathed heavily, shaking her head. “He was going for the Mona Lisa,” she said shortly. “Not the fake in the Louvre, obviously- the one in Jonah’s personal collection.”

Tony gaped at her, and then his head fell slowly into his hands. God, of course Steve would’ve wanted that. He hated Schmidt more than anyone else in the damn world- the guy was bad. And not just in the way Tony and Natasha and Steve were bad, but he was... bad bad. Steve had always planned to get into his private collection and take all his shit- of course, what with him being a moral bastard and everything, he’d been planning to sell it off and use it to fund the art-school down in Brooklyn, rather than just keep it for himself. He’d told Tony as much himself, when they’d been...

Yeah. Anyway.

“Did they catch him?” He asked quietly, curling his hands into fists and ignoring the small way in which they were beginning to shake.

She looked at him, and then shook her head. But Tony didn’t rejoice just then- she’d still brought him in for a reason. “No. But they found out he’d taken it. And they’ve given him a week to return it, or they’re coming for him and everyone he loves.” She raised an eyebrow to Tony, and then gestured to the car. “Which is, of course, another reason why you’re here. There’s no-one he loved more than you. So you need to go into hiding now, too.”

Tony shut his eyes, ignoring the way her simple words still managed to send his heartbeat into overdrive, despite the fact it had been a year and a goddamn half since he’d even seen the guy. God, he shouldn’t still be this hung up. “Sarah?” He asked tightly, thinking of Steve’s kindhearted and quick-fingered mother who’d taught Tony everything he knew about pick pocketing- now in terrible danger from a man with more power than sense and more money than either.

“Already at the safehouse,” Natasha answered, “which is where we’re headed too. The whole team’s there, ready for you to make a plan of action.”

“Here’s a plan of action for you,” Tony gritted irritably, “how about you just have Steve give up the fucking painting, hand it back, and then we can all fucking go h-”

“Of course, that would be great- except for the fact that Steve can’t even get to it right now,” Natasha cut in sharply, turning to him. “He stored it down in the safe in Switzerland. Which is currently where about a hundred of Schmidt’s men are just waiting for him to arrive so they can get the damn painting and then kill him on the spot.”

She ran a manicured nail over the arch of her eyebrow. Even she looked tired, which was saying something. “Tony, Steve’s on the run. He has to stay away from us so that we don’t get caught in the crossfire, but we can’t just leave him to die.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Tony asked helplessly, waving his hands in the air. “Natasha, I haven’t stolen a single thing in over a year-”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure that Fabergé egg didn’t just roll itself out of the Met last month.” Natasha cocked an eyebrow over to him, and then smiled when Tony looked sullen.

“I was bored, oh my God,” he muttered, folding his arms again. “And I gave it back.”

“Tony,” she said, her voice soft, actually genuine desperation in there. “Please. We’re good- but we’re not you. We can’t do this without your help. Steve’s in trouble- we promised we’d always have eachother’s backs.”

“Yeah, when we were nineteen and stealing shit from supermarkets to feed ourselves, not goddamn Da Vinci’s from the personal collection of known maniacs,” Tony snapped, before cursing under his breath and leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees. Natasha was looking at him with a gentle face- of course, she already knew his answer. From the moment she’d said his stupid name, she’d known.

“You got any ideas of what to do?” He asked her tightly, staring at the headboard of the driver’s seat.

Small smile tugging at her lips, she ran a hand through her hair. “The fake painting is good enough to fool 99.9% percent of the entire world. And Schmidt is no art freak. He just wants the prize. It’d fool him, too.”

“Right, and you think he wouldn’t think anything of the fact that a few days before he’s given his precious painting, the fake in the Louvre gets lifted?” Tony asked, because really? Natasha couldn’t be that dense, surely-

Except she just smiled again, turning to him with a knowing look. “Yes, well, that’s the issue, isn’t it? Unless, of course, the fake was temporarily replaced with the genuine article, and then kept there until the fanfare has died down...”

Tony looked at her blankly. She remained stoic and silent, staring right back without fear.

“So you want me,” he repeated slowly, shutting his eyes, “to first, break into Steve’s safe under the gaze of a hundred armed thugs, and take the Mona Lisa out. Then you want me to break into the highest security gallery in the world, and swap the fake out for the real. Then you want me to go and give Schmidt the fake, before re-stealing the genuine copy from the Louvre again?”

“Yep.”

“That’s absurd and absolutely, laughably impossible.” Tony told her incredulously, shooting her a truly scathing look.

Except she just laughed, and patted his leg. “Tony Stark, the laughably impossible and completely absurd is exactly what you specialise in.”

He watched her move, tapping the partition once and then sitting back as the car began to move smoothly. His mind was a whirr of thoughts and options and memories- of the life he’d given up in the hope of going straight, in the family he’d left because of the accident that had torn everything apart. He’d promised himself he’d never go back. That that was it, he was done.

But Steve needed him. God fucking dammit, Steve fucking needed him.

“He used to be more careful than this,” Tony murmured five minutes later, looking out of the tinted windows out into the streets of New York. In the ten years he’d known Steve, he had never once seen the man get caught. This was uncharacteristically careless of him.

Natasha just sighed, looking out of her own window. “Well, he used to have you.”

Ao3 /// Donate to my ko-fi!

#yeah so I don't know why but I woke up at literally like 3am and this just completely consumed me so! here u go!#itsallavengers writes #stevetony #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha romanov

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itsdmod · 6 years ago

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Mobile-friendly information about Dwight

BASICS

Dwight Fairfield, 27, March 14th, Pisces

Wiki background story

Dwight was geeky and scrawny through high school. He always wanted to be one of the cool kids, but somehow never had the charisma. He tried out for the football team but was cut, the basketball team didn't even take a look, and his grades were distinctly below average. One weekend, on a team building exercise from his dead-end job, Dwight's boss led them deep into the woods before breaking out his family recipe moonshine. Dwight remembered taking the first sip before waking up late the next morning all alone. During the night, the others had abandoned him. Once again, the laughing stock of the community Dwight tried to hike his way out of the woods. That was the last anyone ever heard of Dwight Fairfield.

Wiki personality

Dwight isn't the typical guy you think of when someone says "Survivor". He lacks that certain pizazz and without his glasses he's more or less blind. But as the sun sets and the woods comes alive, Dwight clasps to his rat race life, making sure that he'll live to see another day even though something unimaginable is after him. Dwight won't stop. He'll survive no matter what. As others spent hours being seen in high school. He spent hours becoming invisible and avoiding danger. And it doesn't matter if it's dangers in the hallway or dangers in the woods. Survival is key. As other employees panic when terror infects them, Dwight makes use of his disturbing teen experience. The tables have now turned and now others need to follow to Dwight's firm directions if they are to survive as he knows how to disappear.

STORY

A list of important things that have happened to Dwight during his life, some of them happened with other roleplayers.

Verse 2: DBD

1— Dwight was the first one arriving to the campfire, spending some time alone against the Trapper and suffering his torture as he learnt to be a part of the fog. During his first trial, he got dragged to the basement and got terribly beaten up there, and it would keep on repeating itself because it was the only place where there was no exit. Meg, Claudette and Jake arrived afterwards and Dwight, since he was more experienced, was capable of doing his best to help them out.

2— Dwight has many scars over his arms and legs from the Entity making spikes grow in his body (this could lead to verse 4 where he becomes a killer) to get a closer connection to him, wanting him to stop being so effective at leading his group and instead try to convince him to work with itself even if it could pretty much force him if it wanted to. (Continue on point 4) — References (Naked silhouette) (Clothed silhouette)

3— Dwight has a big scar all over his right arm from his shoulder to his hand from being shocked by the Doctor. It happened during one trial in which Dwight thought he was going to go down and with his insanity he harmed the Doctor, stabbing his eye and getting himself in big trouble, tortured by him. In the end, he got to hit him with a hammer on his skull and survived, but now he's traumatized by the scar on his arm so he will most likely never attack a killer again. — Reference, except it's on his right arm and bigger.

4— After the Entity's torture of growing spikes on Dwight's body, Dwight and the Entity got a close connection. Dwight can hear its whispers and hear voices, though he doesn't know who is talking. — Tag used for it: The fog whispers to me;; || Example posts (Fog whisperers) (A new killer is coming)

VERSES

Verse 1: Pre-DBD

Dwight is the manager at Pizzawhat. He manages to live comfortably enough since he only has to take care of himself, sharing a house with someone else.

Verse 2: DBD [[MAIN VERSE]]

Dwight is the leader of the group of survivors at the campfire. He helps his team to do what they do the best, guiding them to do what they're most skilled at even if it's hard to get them to listen sometimes because of panic from everyone (and himself).

Read the story section below for more.

Verse 3: Escaped DBD

Dwight and his team survived for so long that the Entity didn't get fed enough on their 'pocket', that branch of itself dying. It sent them into a last trial where it wasn't there anymore and death would be permanent. They did what they had been doing usually, but Dwight saved his team when they had to open the doors and got hooked; the others managed to unhook him and run out. Dwight lost consciousness there and almost died before he could get any help -a miracle of some sorts.

When he was okay enough to leave the hospital, he was homeless because he couldn't really find a job, being too much in pain from the stab wound on his chest to move too much. When he was at a low point, another survivor found him and got them to live with them; then contacted David so he'd come pick him up.

In the end, David got a permit so he could live in America with Dwight.

Verse 4: Killer verse

The Weeper's information is here.

Dwight was guiding his team to survival so well that the Entity began attacking him personally until it reached a point where he couldn't take it anymore (canon to verse 2, but on verse 2 he didn't give up and got help from a couple other survivors). He ended up giving in and switched places because he couldn't take the torture anymore.

RELATIONSHIPS

A couple things you have to know: these relationships are canon to this Dwight UNLESS you're playing said character and you're not okay with your character having that relationship with Dwight.

Also, we can have a different verse for our muses so their relationship is canon to that one verse. For example, with friendly-psychiatrist we have two different verses: one for enemies and one for a relationship.

Canon

Family tier: Bill (father figure), David (boyfriend), Claudette (best friend), Meg (what a lil shit).

Friends: Jeff, Kate, Adam.

Acquaintances: Jake, Nea, Ace, Feng, Tapp, Jane, Laurie, Quentin.

Enemy: all of the killers. The Trapper is his biggest nemesis. The Doctor is complicated.

OCs

Friends: Spirit

#nav #navigation #basics #muse #verses #story #relationships

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freckledskittles · 7 years ago

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Reibert Secret Santa 2017: Bathtime

Happy Holidays to @thecolossustitan!!! I hope you enjoy this rather dorky story. The prompts you gave me were absolutely heartwarming, and I hope I did a decent job of including as many as I could!

“You’re out of popcorn.”

Bertholdt was hardly surprised to walk into his apartment and find Annie sprawled on the couch, quietly chomping on popcorn and intensely watching the television. An episode of “The Office” was on, one he had seen countless times and one that had probably taken zero effort to access with his Netflix. Unfortunately, with all the stress his life had accumulated, if someone in his friend group was watching a show like that without a head’s up, it was not a cause for celebration.

“Hi, Annie,” he sighed and shuffled a load of groceries into the kitchen. Marco, his roommate, gave a more jovial greeting as he followed behind him. On the TV, the insufferable regional manager was acting as a former criminal and talking about how terrible prison was. “Is it Reiner, me, or miscellaneous?”

“None of your business.”

Bertholdt rolled his eyes; miscellaneous it was, then. Once the groceries were away, Bertholdt went to the living room and sat beside Annie, the popcorn bowl between them. Marco had offered to prepare dinner and shooed him away. “Did you break in or use the key this time?”

“The key.” She tugged on the sleeve of her shirt. “I was too distraught to kick your door down.”

“Is it about the Secret Santa?” Even though a good number of their friend group didn’t have any reason to celebrate Christmas, the twelve of them used it as a way to appreciate and spend time with one another.

Annie leaned back and let her head hit the back of the sofa. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you can guess who I got.”

Well. That narrowed the search down by a tiny margin and then some. “Seriously?” Bertholdt leaned back beside her as she nodded with a grimace. Just her luck to get the person she had been crushing on since the start of college. For Annie to find anyone appealing or worthy of her presence was enough of a compliment, but to receive affection in a romantic way was rare. He could only name a handful of people who had succeeded, whether they knew it or not. And a mutual friend was just another addition to that shortlist.

“My life is a disaster.”

“At least you know what to get her.”

Annie scowled and punched his shoulder. “Don’t try and make this better for me, jerk. I’m still in mourning.”

He was more than sure that it didn’t quite work like that, but he didn’t argue with her and, instead, took back what he had said. “You don’t have to worry about keeping it a secret, because you’re already keeping your crush from her.”

Annie chose a new episode—in this one, the office employees participated in beach games to become the next boss. “Why couldn’t we have done ‘Yankee Swap’ or ‘naughty Santa’ or whatever the fuck it’s called?”

Marco hopped into the room with a friendly smile and an apology for interrupting their conversation on his face. “Annie, are you staying for dinner?” He asked. “We just got a new bottle of wine to try.”

The blonde let out a long sigh and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Sorry about your Secret Santa.”

“Thanks.” She said it with a snort and an eyeroll, but she showed her appreciation in laughing quietly at his jokes during dinner and washing the dishes afterwards. They weren’t close, but ever since he had started rooming with Bertholdt, they interacted more and were quite friendly with each other. Not to mention that Marco knew the perfect remedy to cheer anyone up, and he set up Mario Kart after dinner for some competitive driving. Bertholdt sat on the couch behind them and commented on both of their driving styles, even though his Secret Santa was just as much on his mind.

Buying a gift wasn’t his main concern—after all, Jean had been dropping hints about what he wanted since before they chose names—but he always got anxious over who had his own name. There had been one year they had nixed picking out names and just got a gift in general, and everyone had been unsatisfied and ended up selling the gifts and just cooking food for each other. Selling a pack of thongs was not what he had in mind, however, and three years later, he always hoped that it never returned there.

The next day, he and a childhood friend, Marcel, met up for coffee to catch up and chat. They usually grouped up—Bert with Reiner and Annie, and Marcel with his younger brother Porco tagging along—but they always made an effort to see each other outside of the group. Marcel enjoyed watching the crowd pass by and had picked a table by the window, two coffees in front of him. When Bertholdt walked in, he was met with a grin and a wave.

“Took you long enough,” Marcel teased. “I almost chugged your coffee.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t get both of these for yourself,” Bertholdt shot back. He took a sip of his drink and was relieved to discover that it still had some heat to it. “How’s Porco?”

Marcel snorted past his coffee. “You should already know, Bert. Still stingy and passive-aggressive.”

“At least he’s true to himself.”

“Yeah, too much. A little bird told me you got your Secret Santa for your troupe of friends.”

Bertholdt kicked Marcel under the table. “You know Annie hates when you use bird puns. And yeah, we did. She ended up getting her crush.”

“No way, the Mikasa Ackerman?!” Marcel threw his head back and cackled. A few other patrons of the shop looked at him in alarm and disapproval. “What irony! She must be dying.”

“I think she’ll be okay. This is sorta her chance to actually face her instead of avoiding her.”

Marcel smirked wide and mischievous, a look Bert had seen countless times during their childhood. Before he could bring it up, however, the topic changed. “So you have your gift planned out already?”

Although he wasn’t fond of the change in conversation, he accepted it and moved on. “Yeah, Jean’s not that difficult,” he said. “He doesn’t want anything that’s not Kit-Kats, so the candy rule is covered. And Sasha’s been talking about how much he wants a stuffed Cubone, but she’s never gotten him, and she teams up with Connie for birthdays, so they always find something better. So I’m doing everyone a favor and ending her pleas and bribes.”

“Ah, a chivalrous man, you are. Is that all you’re doing for him?”

The coffee burned his tongue on the next sip, and Bertholdt shrugged. “We roomed together in college, and we’re alike enough to where I have no worries if he’ll like it or not. If it’s sentimental and refers back to something he likes, then he’ll be okay. Bonus points if it’s a surprise.”

The smirk from before appeared again. “And you’re the same way?”

“I guess, yeah.” That was an understatement, maybe, but he supposed it was true. It was true for anyone. But that wasn’t the point Marcel was trying to make. He turned them towards a new conversation, with a sudden recollection. “By the way, have you heard from Reiner this week?”

Marcel paused to toy with the hand protector and waved his hand in a so-so gesture. “On and off. He texted me about some family things, something with his cousin Gabi? But that’s all I got.”

Bertholdt frowned. He had ended up just as empty-handed as he had when he asked within their friend group. “I heard the same thing. He hasn’t answered anyone I’ve texted. It’s weird.”

“Huh.” He tapped his finger on his chin and leaned forward. Something inside Bert told him to watch his eyes, and he noticed how they strayed from his and looked at every other aspect of the coffee shop that wasn’t him. Strange. “He’s either dead or he’s in a coma.”

“Annie shares an apartment with him. I think she would know where he is.”

“I dunno, man. I’m sure he’ll text you tomorrow though! He’s not your best friend for nothing.”

Bertholdt eventually got a text, with family issues over “who’s gonna host Christmas dinner” and struggling to get the dog to the vet while Gabi battled a cold, and relief flooded over him. Reiner planned a gym day together over the weekend, though much to his dismay, the conversation focused on Secret Santa more than anything else.

“Good thing we both got easy gifts this year,” Reiner stated. He had challenged them to a race on the treadmill and had been running for a good while. Thankfully, there were only a few people at the gym. Bertholdt would have preferred to stay in bed a few more hours, but Reiner’s early-to-rise persona and thoughtfulness was a worthy substitute. “Otherwise, I’d be stressed out.”

“Eren wants the same thing every year,” Bertholdt said, and Reiner laughed. “He just doesn’t say it outright.”

“But Mikasa will.”

“Because she doesn’t stand for his bullshit.”

“You should know, right?” The blond looked over at him and winked. “You don’t stand for mine. I got you all figured out, Hoover.”

Maybe not entirely—Bert had been interested in Reiner for a while now and had never found the courage to speak out about it—but he let his friend have his fun in believing otherwise. “My dastardly plan has been foiled. Next thing you’ll be doing is figuring out my Christmas gift for you.”

“Some stickers off of Redbubble and a giant pack of Reese’s pieces.” The silence was enough of an answer, and Reiner stopped his run to beam at the taller and bat his eyes. “I thought you were the mystery turtle that no one could figure out.”

Bertholdt slowed down and gripped either side of the treadmill. “I still am. You don’t know what my favorite Pixar movie is.”

“WALL-E.”

“Okay, fine, I’m losing my touch.”

Reiner cackled and, once they grabbed their waters and started heading over to the weights, threw an arm over Bert’s shoulder. “All that sweating might have washed it off.”

“Keep talking and you can walk home.”

x-x-x

Their Secret Santa party for the 24th. Annie had dragged Bertholdt around to look for the perfect gift—“not everyone can get a Pokemon and Kit-Kats, you idiot”—and their searching led to more dead ends than successes. But by the time the day rolled around, she had solved her problem with creativity and perfection, and Bertholdt was relieved. All he had to do was wrap his gifts up, even putting a decorative bow around the Cubone’s neck.

The party was at Sasha and Historia’s apartment, already an interesting pair of roommates, especially since Connie and Ymir spent so much time there, but they were excellent hostesses. Historia twirled around the room and passed out appetizers and drinks to everyone, conversing with anyone nearby, and Sasha kept the night going with fun games and running the music.

“You know,” Sasha said as the group of twelve gathered around the living room to pass out gifts, “I gotta say, I think we knocked it out of the park with gifts this year.”

“Don’t jinx it!” Eren cried out. “We haven’t even started yet!”

Historia did the honors of passing out the presents, though a comparison to the fiasco last year made it easy to surpass. (He was positive everyone was still embarrassed by the stunt Ymir and Reiner had done, no matter how much they blamed their drunkenness on it.) It was enjoyable to spend time with friends and laugh, as well as watch the enjoyment spread on their faces at opening their gifts. Ymir got flustered at the astronomy and space book she opened up, clutching it to her chest protectively and using it to block the thankful smiles she sent Armin. A good laugh was shared when Connie opened up Marco’s gift, a “cookbook for adults,” as the title proclaimed, and they read off a few of the suggested recipes. And Jean stayed silent in shock for a good minute when he opened his gift, shyly holding the stuffed Cubone and eating a Kit-Kat.

When Mikasa was handed her gift, she cocked her head at the interesting shape. “It looks like the Gherkin in London,” she observed, poking softly at the egg-like figure.

“Because you’re a good egg,” Sasha pointed out. Everyone agreed.

Underneath the wrapping paper was an egg. “Or because it is an egg.” There was a bow on the top keeping everything closed, and she twisted it off so that the shell “cracked” and fell apart, as if made of paper. Inside was a bowl with two movies she had been wanting to see for a while, tickets for one still in theaters, and a plethora of paper cranes. The largest one was the most beautiful, with crisp folds and a flawless form. It truly was a sight to see, as simple as it may have been, and Mikasa smiled. It wasn’t very hard to guess her Secret Santa: there were only a few people left, and Annie had been trying to pull her hoodie back on and hide in it ever since it had been opened.

Bertholdt was next. He took the box with suspicion and looked around the semi-circle. “If it’s a pack of thongs, I’m unfriending all of you,” he warned to their laughter. It was a partial joke, in that he wouldn’t actually unfriend them, but there would be some raising of Hell.

There was a mumble of “I hope it’s a g-string” “or a b-string” from Sasha and Connie, but nothing further as he unwrapped the present. It was neither of those things, and it wasn’t a pack of thongs either. It was something that was either much worse or much better; once he saw it, he was hard to get a grasp on it.

“LoveBoat Bubble Bath Set?”

The room instantly filled with a combination of laughter and confusion on what that meant. From beside him, Eren reached over and lifted the artsy tag from inside the box. “‘Three-set bubble bath soap and essential oils,’” he read, and a smirk flashed on his face. “Someone wants to get saucy with Bert!”

“Oh my god.”

Annie, who had recovered from her burrowing, pointed to a fallen scrap of paper on the floor. “What’s that?”

Bertholdt picked it up and read it. The words “a free coupon for a bubble bath party with me” were not what he had in mind. Saying them out loud only made it worse. Any other time, he would probably have joined the chorus of amusement filling the room, but this was happening to him, which meant there was nothing remotely funny about it.

And there Reiner was, sitting directly across from him, sporting a shit-eating grin and a pair of lightly flushed cheeks. He was simply grinning, fingers curled and pressed against his lips. It answered everything for Bert. And then he couldn’t hold back the smile and laugh.

It was a confession, without explicit mention, but with a request to join him in a bubble bath. There really was nothing like it.

The group finished handing out gifts and dispersed to help set up for dinner. Bertholdt was on table-setting duty and walking between the kitchen and table when he nearly ran into Reiner. The blond, instantly blushing, smiled to brush past him, but they moved the same way. Nervous laughter came from both of them—something usual for Bert, but rare from his friend.

“Uh, hi,” Reiner said. He hopped lightly on the balls of his feet.

“Hi,” Bertholdt smiled, bowing his head to keep it from spreading into something goofy. “So I got a bubble bath set and a coupon for a party.”

“Oh really?” His eyebrows rose in interest, but his hazel eyes shone with a knowing sort of mischief. “Sounds like a nice gift.”

“I think so. It was given to me by this guy I’m into.”

Reiner choked on that and looked around. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to them for the time being, despite their obviously larger frames and the fact that they were blocking the path between the kitchen and dining room. “Sounds pretty cool if you wanna bang—I mean, bathe with him.” His face only turned hotter, his nervousness shining through, and Bertholdt couldn’t help but be endeared by him. If he wasn’t interested in Reiner already, he definitely was now. It was reassuring to see someone so confident and sure and outgoing be the complete opposite, especially when he related to it.

“I, uh,” Bertholdt cleared his throat, “I would like to do both. Of those things. With you—him. With him.”

Reiner nodded, biting his lip, but his smile was too strong to hold back. “Nice. I’ll let him know.”

“Oh my god, just kiss already!” Ymir shouted from the kitchen. The tall duo glanced over at their suddenly invested audience. Bertholdt instantly covered his face and hid his blush from view. This night was going rather well and absolutely terrible in record seconds.

“Quit peeping at us,” Reiner shot back. Bertholdt peeked out of his hands to find the shorter glaring daggers at the group. “We’re having a private moment.”

“You’re the ones flirting under the mistletoe, bro,” Connie said, pointing at the dangling piece of green above their heads.

Both looked up to see that yes, there was a piece of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. It had definitely not been there before, unless it had, and Bertholdt had taken little notice of it. There was only one person he was interested in finding under that symbolic decoration, but he hadn’t strayed near it with intention.

Reiner was back to embarrassment, eyes wide at the dangling mistletoe. His eyes never stayed one color, deciding to instead remain a kaleidoscope of greens and browns and the occasional blue depending on the light it reflected. At that moment, they were a faint green, energetic but calm, warm and lively but familiar and safe. Bertholdt had known him for years, but when he was hit with feelings of affection in college, he was hypersensitive to a lot more things: the closeness of their bodies, the laugh and tone of his voice, the flicker of his smile. But most importantly, he found a new love for his eyes.

It looked like Reiner was stuck in shock, glancing from the mistletoe to Bertholdt in rapid fire. His eyes wandered briefly to his lips, but never for long. Bertholdt had little experience in taking the initiative, fueled by anxiety and worry that something, anything, could go wrong. And the possibilities were endless: a yell in the face, abandonment by a friend, rejection from the university of his choice. Things he couldn’t even imagine could turn up and ruin everything.

But this time, he was calm. He felt little worry, paired with a slight concern for Reiner and if he had fizzled out or malfunctioned or something. There was no tremble in his lips as Bertholdt leaned forward to peck him, much too short but oh so sweet, and there were no regrets. It felt freeing to do something about the feelings that had twisted inside him for so long, like a sleeping dragon awaiting provocation. Once he tasted it, though, he refused to go back, no matter how much he was fearful of it.

Which reminded him of the reality of the situation that had caught up quite quickly with him, and he realized what he had done.

“I need to help the table!” He cried out as he hurried back to the dining room. Reiner stayed in the doorway for a moment as their audience gasped and cried out, owning up to bets and struck with disbelief.

The rest of the night was fun, the food was delicious, and everyone returned home safely. Bertholdt lingered behind. He had already bid farewell to Marco, figuring out sleeping arrangements with Jean, so he would have the apartment to himself. The next thing he needed was a bath and Reiner.

“So,” he began, quietly handing over the handmade coupon, “I think I wanna cash in that free bubble bath party.”

x-x-x

“Look. I’m the Armored Titan.”

Bertholdt looked up at Reiner and burst into laughter immediately. The lingering remains of the events before the bubble bath—consisting of lips, hands, and the contact of skin, oh my—hadn’t left him. Even if his possibly-though-maybe-definitely new boyfriend was imitating a character from a dumb television show.

“You’re gonna get that in your eye,” he pointed out. Some of the suds were dangerously close to his mouth and vision. Bert had been too busy making a crown on his head, with as little help from a mirror as he could manage, to monitor the blond. Besides, he had to focus on making a beard as well.

“Psh, yeah, okay, I’ll remember that when I’m—shit.” Bertholdt laughed as Reiner lunged for one of the towels, giggling and kicking the taller once he could see well again. “It’s not funny, Beard-tolt! I have to protect my beautiful eyes.”

Bertholdt felt a blush rush to his cheeks as he sputtered for an excuse. “I’m pretty sure I did not say that!” He couldn’t tell past the pleasure that Reiner was delivering with his tongue if those words had actually left his mouth, though he was sure they had, but no one needed to know that much detail.

“The court reporter will read back your remarks and prove that you are wrong.

“Who’s the court reporter?”

Instead of an answer, Bertholdt received a multitude of kisses, along his neck and cheeks and to his lips. He had little protest for them, not when he was sitting in a tub, with the one person who could make him feel more comfortable or relaxed than anyone in the world.

#reibert #shingeki no kyojin #snk #reibert secret santa #man what dorks #bertholdt hoover #reiner braun #also known as dorks #attack on titan #aot #freckledskittles writes #marcel galliard #uhhh #annie leonhardt #this has like super light mikani so #mikani #mikaani #reibert ss

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footballfinns · 7 years ago

Text

Surprises

Summary: Finn gets a call at work that causes he and Rachel to make a trip to Lima.

Finn’s day had been going by great. He was coming close to finishing school and they were letting him do so much more at work than stand at the front counter and do the occasional oil change. He was underneath a car, making sure he had finished everything he had on his list when one of the guys called him out and said he had a phone call. The only person who really ever called him was Rachel, and that was usually on his cell phone so he was nervous as he walked to the front and grabbed the phone. He was even more nervous when it was his mother on the other line, frantically telling him that Burt had a heart attack. Finn spoke to her for a moment before letting her go and he explained to his boss what was going on before he went home. He knew he needed to feel bad, and he did because this man had been in his mom’s life for a while now, but he wasn’t entirely feeling the urgency to run to Lima. He sighed as he walked through the apartment door and carefully took his shoes and coat off by the door. He walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water, still trying to decide what emotion he was feeling. When Rachel walked in, he gave her a small smile. “Hey, you.”

The first weeks back to school were always an adjustment, one that Rachel dreaded. But she managed like always. Getting back to a quiet apartment after a seemingly longer than usual train ride was today's reward. Hearing Finn’s voice as she pushed through the door was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. “Hey.” Placing her bag on the counter, she moved in for a kiss. “You're home early.”

He accepted her kiss and wrapped his arms around her. “Well my mom called and I guess Burt had a heart attack..” He watched for her reaction, deciding that would help him know how to feel.

The calm she'd felt in his presence slowly slipped away, her eyes growing wide. “How terrible. Is he… okay?” Rachel didn't want to suggest the grimmest outcome if she didn't have to. “I mean, he is being treated, right? I bet your mom was beside herself.” Her hand raised to his cheek, her powers of observation failing as she couldn't pinpoint his feelings on the situation. “And you. I know you're not close but… how are you handling the news?”

“I don’t know, I think it just happened a couple of hours ago. She was freaking out on the phone, I could barely understand her.” He sighed, looking down as he thought about her question. “I don’t know, Rach. I don’t feel like… I mean, I hardly know him. I feel like I should be scared and feel bad, but I just don’t.” He shrugged, feeling awful for saying it.

Rachel wasn't shocked by his admission and she had no intention of making him feel guilty about it. “I think that's normal, honestly. Just because he's married to your mom doesn't mean you have to fall apart. Maybe it's better that way, so if she needs you, you'll be able to help her.” Taking him by the hand, she moved them to the couch. “And obviously you want him to be okay. That's what counts.”

Finn was glad that she understood, though it wasn’t surprising as Rachel usually had a better grip on things like this than he did. He followed her to the couch and sat down, giving her a small smile. “What do you think I should do? Like do I go to Lima or..?”

Both of her arms moved around him, Rachel contemplating his question. “I say go with what you think is best. Or maybe wait to see what happens. If… the outcome is the worst possible scenario, then we'll both go to Lima. But if he recovers, maybe your mom will need you more down the road than immediately.”

Finn nodded his head, “Yeah, I think you’re right. She asked me to come now but I just don’t think that’s a good idea for me to miss work and school. I’ll tell Kurt soon. She wanted us to leave together.”

Rachel wished she'd known Carole had asked for him to be there, it would have changed her approach. She didn't see a way to take it back now without changing his resolve. “She is probably going through a lot of emotions right now. She might see it differently in the morning. You should definitely let Kurt know soon so that he can go be with his father without having to wait.”

He sighed “I just didn’t feel like dealing with all this tonight.” He said with a small laugh. “I mean, I don’t want to deal with it ever but still.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Kurt’s number. “Hey man, I can’t leave tonight. I just have too much going on with school and work right now. I don’t think I can just take time off.” He explained and Kurt snapped, claiming that Finn just didn’t want to go because Rachel didn’t like being in Lima. Finn was silent as Kurt went on a rant about how Finn should be there for his stepfather, knowing he couldn’t.. Well, shouldn’t- snap back. “It’s not about Rachel. It’s exactly what I told you. I hope your dad is okay, Kurt. Goodnight.” He hung up before Kurt could say anything else and let his phone fall on the couch as he let out a frustrated groan and rest his head on the back of the couch.

Rachel almost told him to wait until the morning so that he could relax a little and try not to worry about any potential drama. He beat her to it, pulling out his phone to make a call. Her arms never left his body, though the hair on her neck bristled a bit when she heard her name. It was tireless, his family weaponizing her and trying in whatever ways they could to cause strife. More than anything, Rachel hated that he was in the middle. “Didn't go well, I take it?”

He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her again. He hated having drama with his family, which is what any interaction with them seemed to cause. He knew it was probably not the best news to hear that Finn couldn't drop everything and pay for a plane ticket to Lima for a couple of days but he didn't expect it to fall on Rachel. “He's probably just stressed out and wanted me to go for support or something.” He tried to shrug it off.

Rachel attempted to read between the lines, fearing that it wasn’t as simple as Finn was making it but not wanting to add to his frustrations by picking apart his conversation with Kurt. “That’s probably true. Hearing that news must have been incredibly difficult for him. But your lives are very different. Kurt has his father’s financial support as well as Blaine’s. That makes it easy for him to just go home. You and I have other considerations when it comes to money.” Rachel looked up, kissing his cheek in the process. “You’re very supportive in all the ways you possibly can be.”

“Exactly.. Missing work is a big deal for me because we don't have money to fall back on the way he does. Hopefully when the heat of the moment is over, they can realize that.” He was nervous his mom was going to have the same reaction though.

“You’re being a responsible adult and that’s all you can do right now. Like I said, if Burt were to take a turn for the worst, we would get in the car right now and go to Lima together. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Finn nodded his head “you would come with me?”

“Of course I would. You’re my husband and Burt is your mother’s husband. For your family, I will make the time because it’s important to you.” Rachel toyed with the hair at the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t ever make you go through something like that on your own. Especially when I know how hard those visits can be for you.”

“That means a lot to me, Rach. I know how uncomfortable things can be with my mom and… I don't know, whenever I'm doing something they dislike it seems to fall on you. I think they just don't like me anymore and they have decided it's easier to blame you than me.”

Rachel’s chest physically ached when Finn admitted to feeling hated by his family. Especially when she couldn’t fathom anyone not loving him wholly. “I don’t think it’s that, honey. I really don’t. I think they aren’t willing to take personal responsibility. That has nothing to do with not liking you. And I can handle whatever they throw my way. I’m not going anywhere so they’re wearing themselves out having a problem with me.”

Finn gave her a kiss and stayed close. He was getting anxiety thinking that not going may cause a big fight. “Maybe we should go..” He said softly.

“If that's what you need, then I'll go call work and pack a quick bag now.” Rachel held onto him, wanting for him to be sure and not feel pressured by his family. Whatever he decided, though, she would keep her word.

“I just don't want any fighting… what do you think?”

“My main concern is you and your stress level. If that means going to Lima to avoid drama, we will go. I wish your family didn't cause you so much stress in these situations.” Her nose traced the line of his throat before leaving a gentle kiss there. “I want you to do whatever you think is right.”

He wished she would make this decision for him, but he understand why she wouldn't. “I'm gonna take a shower… I had a bunch of oil spill on me earlier and I just feel gross.” He said softly.

Rachel had noticed the smell but found it irrelevant in light of the news Finn received. “Okay, baby. If you need anything, just let me know.”

He gave her a kiss “You can join me if you want. You might want to wait until I scrub this all off though.” He got up and headed to the bathroom. Once his clothes were stripped and the water was on, he stood under the water with his hand resting on the wall beneath the showerhead, his eyes closed as he tried to relax and get some perspective.

Rachel wanted to stay close without crowding him, so she gave him a head start in the shower. He needed to decompress a little so she took time tidying up a few things before stripping down in the bedroom. Finn was standing under the water as she slipped quietly into the stall. She said nothing, just kissed between his shoulders.

When he felt Rachel behind him, he smiled and turned around. “Does it look like i got it all off? I'm gonna have to figure out what soaps gets oil off the best. I feel like my hands are permanently black.”

Rachel took his hands in hers, turning them over. Despite the dark spots, Rachel brought his palm to her lips and kissed it. “They're good enough for me. But I bet we could find some home remedy type trick to get them clean.” Rachel took his hands and placed them on her back, her body drawing close to his. “I'm proud of how hard you're working.”

He happily moved in close with her. “I'll look it up.” He smiled. “Thank you, baby. I'm glad you don't mind a dirty man when I come home.” He said playfully.

Rachel's eyebrow lifted at his coy remark. “I've grown accustomed to it on many fronts.” The kiss she offered was slow, easy. “Like anything, as long as you're fulfilled, that's what matters most.”

He kissed her back, his hand moving down her back. “I know I tell you a lot but you make everything better. Every time something happens with my family I'm just… I just am so lucky to have you.”

“I don't mind hearing it.” Rachel's lips curved up, his hands on her back a pleasant sensation. “Or being that person for you. Especially when things with your family can be quite difficult sometimes. But I always want you to know that you deserve to be loved without condition.”

“You put up with so much shit from me and my family.” He laughed softly. “I wish I could stop all that. Honestly, if you didn't want to go home with me I would understand. I'd go crazy without you for a few days, but I don't want you to have to be miserable.”

“Going with you is my choice. No misery involved.” Her fingers moved into his damp waves, her thumbs moving over his temples in small circles. “I don't see it as putting up with anything. Your family is difficult at times but they're part of being married.”

He closed his eyes and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. “I think I'm just… overwhelmed right now. Burt will be fine, my family isn't going to fight with me, you and I will have a boring trip.” He opened his eyes to give her a playful smile.

Rachel took his smile as a good sign. “Exactly. Boring old Lima like always.” She hoped it was true this time around, especially when she felt Finn might need just that from being back there.”

“Do you want to go tonight or wait until morning?” He pulled away so he could wash his hair.

Rachel stepped back so he could clean up. “Let's start out early tomorrow. That way we'll be there by the afternoon.”

“That works for me.” He said as he scrubbed the shampoo into his hair and then rinsed off. “I'll double check our bank account to make sure we have enough money to miss a few days too..” He scrunched his nose.

Suddenly, Rachel felt pangs of anxiety and a little regret. Had they not gone on a trip, they'd have plenty of money to go back to Lima. Even if it was just what they'd needed and one of the best trips ever. Sighing, she hugged him from behind when he was done. “It'll work out, I'm sure. Let's just focus on Burt and making sure everyone is okay.”

Finn nodded his head “yeah, you're right.” He turned the shower off. “Did you need to wash off too?”

Rachel hadn't considered a shower but now that they were getting up exceedingly early. “I definitely should. Then I'm going to text my father to let him know we'll be staying at the house. Unless you want to stay at your mom's?”

“Maybe your dad's house is the best option so we can get away when we need to.” He turned the shower back on for her and moved so she could get under the water.

Rachel agreed, especially since Kurt would likely be at Carole and Burt’s house. Less opportunity for confrontation, the better. “Why don't you start packing when you get out of here. One less thing to do.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head and leaned down to give her a long kiss before he stepped out and grabbed a towel to dry off. He entered the bedroom and put some boxers on before he picked out a few outfits and underwear to pack in his suitcase.

Rachel held the kiss for as long as Finn would allow, using her time alone to gather herself and prepare for what was coming. Finn hadn't said so directly but she knew Kurt had pointed the finger at her, laying fault for Finn's lack of support at her feet. Carole would likely think no differently but Burt held all of her attention so Rachel tried not to worry much about her mother-in-law’s reaction. Rachel would be tough and unwavering in the face of any scrutiny for Finn. Because she loved him and he needed that from her.

Finn made sure he had everything packed before he sat on the bed with his laptop and checked their bank out. They would be okay since he was getting paid in a few days, but it did cut into any extra cash they may have had. He sighed and closed his laptop before laying down.

Rachel dried off and braided her hair after the shower. Finn was in bed when she came out of the bathroom and though she needed to pack, she was drawn to him like he needed her more. Beside him, she put an arm around him and kissed his neck. “All set?”

“Yeah, I just need to pack my toothbrush.” He cuddled with her. “I just packed for a few days. That's okay, right?”

Rachel's nails drew lightly over his chest. “That should be fine. I still need to throw my bag together but I wanted time with you first. You've had a draining afternoon.” Her lips touched his temple. “Can I get you anything? A snack, maybe?”

Finn smiled as she doted him on. As childish as it was, he did love it when she tried to distract from troubles like this. “I haven't eaten dinner yet now that I think about it. Maybe we could make something.”

Rachel liked the sound of ‘we,’ especially in the context of cooking. “I'm open to that. You figure out what you want while I do a quick pack, then we'll get started.”

“Ah don't make me choose! I'm the worst at it.” He laughed. “How about… do we still have that Alfredo sauce? We could have noodles.”

Rachel responded by laughing in turn, his boyish charm never failing to get her. “That sounds like an excellent idea.” With a final kiss, she stood from the bed. “The sauce should be on the top shelf of the fridge.” Grabbing her bag, she began gathering up clothes for the trip.

Finn got up after her and walked to the kitchen to start the water boiling on the stove. He double checked that they had the sauce and set it on the counter as he waited for the pot to heat up.

Packing for a trip Lima was relatively simple, Rachel pitching leggings, skirts, and sweaters into the bag. Finn’s t-shirts would be her sleepwear. After setting her bag next to his, Rachel stepped into the kitchen to find him prepping dinner. “Find everything okay?”

Finn was waiting for the pasta to cook when Rachel walked in. “I did. I don't know if you want anything to go with it.. Maybe a salad?”

Rachel considered his suggestion, mostly because she didn't want the vegetables they had to go bad while they were in Lima. “That sounds good. I'll get to slicing.” Rachel pulled out the cutting board and a pile of salad ingredients.

Finn watched her prepare the salad with a small smile. It was stupid in his mind, but when things were feeling overwhelming in his family life he just felt incredibly grateful for Rachel. He was always grateful, but more so during these moments. He knew there were a few minutes left for the noodles so he stepped behind her to hug her as she worked.

The chopping centered Rachel, letting her mind go blank as she moved the blade through spinach and lettuce. She only paused when arms circled her waist. “It's nice being coupley like this.” Even if the circumstances were tenuous, she knew to appreciate the small things.

“I do like it when we get to do things like this… Usually I would still be at work and not get home until dinner was made or we would both be getting home late and just want something quick. Even though the reason I was early sucks, tonight has been nice.”

Finishing a cucumber, Rachel turned to put her arms around him too. “I always tell myself that it'll be like this more one day. Because I love taking care of you. And just being by your side.”

“Someday it will be. When we are both more established in our careers we will probably have set schedules so we will have a couple of nights a week for this kind of thing.” He gave her a kiss.

Rachel felt comforted by his lips on hers, an experience she felt should be reversed. Still, this kiss was right and she let it extend beyond what was probably appropriate for the moment. “You should check the pot.” She took a breath, trying to refocus on dinner.

He didn't want to part from her, but she was right about needing to check the food. He checked the time and realized it was time to take the noodles out anyways so he brought the pot to the sink and poured its contents into a strainer.

Rachel worked at finishing the salad and doling it out on plates as he worked on the alfredo. She decided to light a candle on the table just to give the apartment a soothing glow. Romance seemed thoughtless but she wasn't above creating a relaxing environment for them both.

Finn mixed the noodles and sauce before he dished it onto the plates next to the salads. He brought the plates to the table and sat down. He liked that things were easy and romantic tonight, because they likely would not be in the coming days. “Thank you for making the salad, baby.” He said as he began to eat.

Rachel usually sat across their small table from him but made a point of moving her chair next to his. “Thank you for the alfredo. It looks delicious.” Her first bite was small but made her want to dive in headfirst. She switched to salad.

Finn ate in silence, his free hand on her knee as he enjoyed his meal. “I think we will get to have dinner alone every night when we are in Lima, so we have that to look forward to.”

Rachel smiled, taking any advantage she could get to being in Lima. “That'll be nice. Hopefully those dinners will be relaxing, a nice way to wind down from the day.”

“I hope so too..” He looked down at his plate. “I just don't want things to end in us fighting. Things get stressful and we tend to do that..”

Looking up for from her plate, Rachel examined Finn’s face. It was a difficult feat seeing as he was focused on his food. She set her fork down and wiped her mouth before turning his face to her and taking his hand. “I won't make hollow promises but I'm going to do everything I can to keep that from happening. Because I don't want to fight either.”

Finn gave her a small smile “I know I can get unbearable when I'm stressed out but I will try really hard not to let it get that way.” He promised.

Rachel gave his hand a squeeze. “This isn't an easy trip for anyone, baby. Let's just not let it get us too down. Especially before it even started.” Her lips brushed his cheek as she stood with her plate and rinsed it in the sink.

Finn nodded his head and gave her a moment before following after her so he could rinse his plate as well. “We should probably get to bed then so we can leave early.”

Rachel scrubbed the plate off, turning back to him. “I'm going to finish washing up in here. You go on to bed. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

Finn kissed her cheek before walking back to the bedroom and laying down to go to sleep. It wasn't coming easily, but he forced his eyes shut.

Rachel took his rinsed plate and the remaining dinner dishes. Washed and dried by her hands, she put them in their proper places then looked around, making sure everything was as it should be before she went to the bedroom. Climbing into the bed, she put an arm around him. “I love you.” With that declaration, she began to hum quietly.

Finn smiled when she joined him. “I love you too.” He relaxed as she hummed. “Good night, baby.”

Rachel continued until she felt he was asleep before settling in herself and dozing off.

Finn slept uneasily, but he made it through the night without losing too much sleep. When his alarm went off, he groaned and stretched before turning over to look at his wife. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and got up to get dressed and get the truck started and warm.

Rachel was awakened by a soft touch to her cheek. Finn was already up and moving when she turned over. She was quick to move after that, dressing and making coffee and bagels. They were fresh and ready when Finn walked back through the door. “Morning.”

Finn brought their bags out to the truck and let the vehicle warm up for a few minutes before he headed back to their apartment. “Good morning baby.” He stepped in and gave her a kiss.

Rachel offered him a travel mug full of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese in exchange for his greeting. “Ready to go?”

He took his breakfast from her. “I am. Truck is all ready for us to go too.” He smiled and led the way back out to the truck.

Rachel nodded and pulled on her coat. She looked around one last time and secured the door lock once she was satisfied. She held his hand, her breakfast in the other, as the went down to the truck.

“Ugh I am not excited for this drive.” He complained as he opened the passenger door for her. He got in and put his coffee between them before beginning to drive and eat his bagel.

Rachel slid in beside him and buckled in. “If you need a break, let me know. We might get their faster that way.”

“We can split it up.” He said with a nod. “I slept last night but I just feel so tired.” He finished off his bagel and took a sip of his coffee.

Rachel didn't want to push but he worried her with his tiredness. “I can take the first half if you want, so you can sleep.” They had already started out but a quick change wouldn't set them back.

“It's okay, I have coffee.” He lifted his cup. “But if you want to drive the first half we can do that. “

Rachel didn't necessarily want to drive but she stated otherwise. “I'll do that. That way you can nap a bit.”

Finn found a parking lot to park in so they could switch seats. He got out and back in through the passenger door. “Just let me know when you are sick of driving.”

Rachel scooted over once he was out the driver's seat, getting herself comfy for the long drive ahead. “I will.” She smiled at him as she turned the engine over and pulled back into traffic, which wasn't too terrible this early in the morning. “Relax until then.”

He leaned the seat back a bit and rest with a yawn. “It's weird for you to be driving.” He said with a laugh.

Rachel couldn't disagree, especially when it came to his truck. But she laughed along all the same. “True. Look at it this way, though. You get to do more open driving and less city stuff. I think you like that more anyway.”

“That's true.” He agreed. “I know I thanked you already but.. I really appreciate you coming with me, baby. You're the best.”

Rachel glanced over at him, then quickly refocused the road. “I've said that I'd go anywhere with you. I like to be true to my word. And I love you. If I can help it, I won't let you face anything like this on your own.”

“I love you too. You are always true to your word.” He gave her a smile. He just knew how much Rachel hated Lima and spending time with his family. Even without the added stress, it wouldn't be a great trip.

Removing her hand from the wheel, she reached for his. She may have disliked visiting Lima, but she still wished she could make every trip there one he could remember fondly. Partly because she'd ruined others in the past. Mostly, she wanted him to feel like he could still openly love this other home. “I know this is the least appropriate time to think or say this but we should take being in Lima to our advantage and revisit some of our… greatest hits, shall we say.” If nothing else, she hoped to get a smile from him. “The reservoir, perhaps.”

Finn smiled over at her. “That sounds like a great plan. A good way to break up all the crappiness.”

“See, it’s working already. You’re perking up as we speak. I might not even have to take my pants off when we get there.” She squeezed his hand, grinning.

“Pants are coming off.” He scoffed playfully.

“I should’ve just brought skirts if that’s the case.” Having never liked driving one-handed, Rachel was forced to let go of Finn’s hand. “But I suppose I can make pants workable, just for you.”

“I wouldn't complain about skirts.” He laughed. “Thank you. I known it's a real struggle.” He joked.

“Oh yes. I can barely survive when I'm forced to wear pants.” Her voice shifted from dramatic to a giggle. “Actually, that's true. I'd much prefer to be pantsless. But my legs would get cold and people would look at me funny.”

“You have nice legs. They'd be jealous.” Be gave her a grin.

“See, now you're just talking me up.” Rachel reached to flick the radio on low.

“I'm always talking you up.” He shrugged as he sipped on his coffee.

“Not always. Sometimes you're just being sweet and complementary.” A song came on that she liked and she started to sing along quietly.

Finn watched her lovingly as she sang along to the radio. “I love it when you sing.”

Rachel didn't miss a note but smiled as much as she could. She only paused when the song ended. “You're my favorite audience. I see you whenever I perform, even if you're not there, and it makes everyone else fade away. In a perfect world, I could live off singing to just you.”

“That would be pretty cool.” He smiled. “I like that you think that way. Sometime it's crazy to me that you love me so much.”

“Really? Because it's so natural to me at this point that I can't think of a time when I won't. It's impossible to love you any less than I do.”

“That's how I feel about you too.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I hope I get to just cuddle with you and love you a lot since we are taking days off of work.”

Rachel's cheek warmed at the touch of his lips, much like her heart. “I can promise serious quality cuddle time. I will also take all the love you have. Those are some of my favorite things, after all.”

“Good. That's all I need to be happy… And food. And sex.” He joked.

“Well, yes. Food and sex are quite important. Right up there with cuddles.” It was good to see his spirits lifted, Rachel wanting nothing more than for him to have some level of peace in his life at the moment. “If you get hungry or just need to stop at any point, just let me know.” Her attention drifted back to driving and singing along to the radio.

“I will.” He said as he rest his head against the back of the seat. Between the stressful sleep he'd had and listening to her sing along with the radio, he drifted off to sleep.

Rachel knew that Finn was no match for her singing, especially after the rough night he’d had. So she was happy when he fell asleep. She didn’t mind just driving and singing, her phone chirping directions to her now and then. The quiet time was probably something she’d long for once they were in the presence of his family. The sky gradually lightened and the sun was fully up by the time she stopped. They were halfway through the trip and she needed to get out and stretch her legs. Pulling into a diner rest stop in Pennsylvania, she nudged Finn to wake him.

Finn groaned as Rachel woke him up and he looked around as he sat up. “How long was I out?” He asked.

“Just about 4 hours. I couldn’t bare to wake you when you seemed so peaceful. But I have to get out. My legs are getting stiff and I need to use the restroom.”

Finn nodded his head and got out of the truck. He stretched as his feet hit the ground. “Thanks for driving all that way, baby.”

Rachel slid out of the truck, first stretching her back and her legs. “Any time.” Coming around the front of the truck, she stopped to give him a kiss before she headed toward the diner to use the restroom.

Finn kissed her with a smile and then followed after her to the diner so he could use the bathroom as well. When he got out, he decided they should probably eat while they were already stopped and took a seat at one of the booths.

Rachel figured she’d find him in the restaurant when she exited the bathroom, which was fine because she was getting hungry. Sliding into the booth next to him, she kissed Finn’s cheek then leaned against him a bit.

He wrapped his arm around her and held the menu up to where they could both read it. “Are you okay to eat here or do you wanna wait?”

“We can eat here. I was getting a little hungry and they have vegetable soup in a bread bowl as one of their lunch specials so I know what I'm getting.”

“I'm getting chicken strips.” He said with a nod and set the menu down. The waitress stopped by with two waters that Finn had ordered before Rachel joined him and he ordered their food. “So.. We are probably halfway there, right?”

Rachel sipped on her water before answering. “A little more. I may have speeded a tad but not too much.”

“Ah, my little rebel.” He joked, kissing her cheek.

Rachel grinned at him. “I was only five miles over but I do like that nickname.” Even if she mostly saw herself as a ‘good girl’ she liked the other perception.

“You're cute.” He said with a chuckle. “I'll try not to speed too much now that it's my turn.”

“I like it when you call me cute, too.” Without hesitation, she turned to give him a kiss that was slightly inappropriate for a public place. “I don’t mind if you speed. Sometimes, you like to go fast and others you take things slow. As long as it gets the job done.” Rachel winked, fully aware that the flirtation was much like the kiss. But she wanted him to be distracted now. Especially when she knew that a long stretch of him driving could lead to thoughts about what lay ahead in Lima.

Finn was surprised by her kiss, but he enjoyed it. He gave her a smirk as she pulled away “You in a mood?” He asked, playfully wagging his eyebrows.

Rachel’s cheeks flushed, partly from the obvious answer to his question and because she always got a little shy after a public display like that. “Maybe. Maybe I just like kissing you that way.”

“I love it.” He gave her another kiss, but kept it short because he knew their food would coming soon. It wasn't long after that it was placed in front of them and he was distracted by chicken strips.

Finn seemed quite content once he had food, which made Rachel smile as she spooned soup to her lips. “Good?”

“It is good.” He smiled. “How is yours? It looks pretty good.”

“It's warm and filling. The broth is nice and thick. So good. Very good.”

“I'm glad you like it.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin before kissing her cheek.

This sweet kiss made her want to forget the soup and just cuddle up against him. Though it felt childish at times, Rachel saw it as a positive thing to want. It told her that Finn and the simplicity of their closeness was all she needed to feel comforted. “Me too. Especially since I was hungrier than I thought.”

“Driving always makes me hungry. Maybe because it's so boring.” He said with as he went back to eating.

Rachel didn’t suffer the same, but she could understand his point. Driving was just staring and shifting your eyes, tapping the pedal and the brakes when necessary. And there wasn’t much to see between New York and Lima as far as scenery - most of it all looked the same. “It definitely pales in comparison to other things. But it has a purpose. It will get us where we need to be.”

“Yeah, true.. Even if the destination is Lima.” He laughed. “Are you almost done eating?”

Rachel, nibbling at the edges of her bread bowl, nodded. “I think I’m ready to get back on the road. The sooner we get there and deal with what we need to, the sooner we can have time to ourselves. Right?”

“Well.. I was definitely planning on making out with you a little before we left..” He smirked. As the waitress approached them he looked over the bill and set the money on the table. “Let's go.”

“I have no objections to making out.” The words quieted as the waitress approached, Rachel stepping out of the booth as he laid the money down. Taking his hand, she emphasized her point with a slow kiss. “See, I’m nothing if not open to suggestion.”

Finn squeezed her hand “I'm lucky for that.” He said as he led the way out to the truck. He opened her door for her but didn't let her get in far before his lips were on hers again.

Rachel was about to climb into the truck when she turned to find Finn’s lips on hers. Her arms, though heavy from her coat, came around his neck. It was the first time they’d really been close since the news of Burt broke and that matter of hours made her miss it. Now, it was relief.

If it hadn't have been cold outside, Finn would have stayed wrapped up with her right there for much longer. “I'm getting cold.” He said with a laugh and pulled away from her so he could get into the truck too. He leaned over to get more though. “I love you so much.” He said against her lips.

Rachel understood the press of the weather, not that she liked the separation very much. Still, she let go with some ease only to be rewarded with a final kiss. “I love you too. But get in before you freeze. I can kiss you in here just as well as out there.”

Finn pulled away completely with a sigh and walked around the truck so he could get in. Once he was settled, he reached for her hand and leaned over to kiss her.

Rachel scooted a little closer to him once he was seated, letting the kiss warm her. It was an awkward squeeze in the cab of his truck and she always found it easier to kiss him when she was straddling him. But that, she knew, would put them in potentially dangerous water. Especially in a public parking lot. Instead, she held to his arm, craning her neck a little. His lips tasted salty from lunch and she sighed happily, her breath escaping against his.

He wished they could be closer, but he took what he could get. He moved his kisses to her neck, playfully nipping at her skin.

Rachel giggled, mostly so she wouldn’t make a more suggestive sound. “You’re a bad influence sometimes. The big problem is, I do enjoy it.” She didn’t stop him right away, her skin feeling a pleasant wash of fire where he kissed it. “But you can’t leave any marks.”

Finn groaned in disapproval. “Why can't I?”

“Because someone would see them on my neck and we’re going to be seeing your family to offer support.” Rachel pulled away a little, smiling as she left a kiss on his lips. “You can do it later, though. In all the places no one sees. I promise.”

“Fine..” He scrunched his nose before sitting up straight and turning the truck on. “But as soon as we are alone…” he smirked.

Rachel moved back to her spot and belted herself in. “Absolutely. I think by that time, we’ll probably both need a little stress relief anyway.” Especially if the first thing they did was visit with Carole and Kurt.

“Yeah, hopefully, we are in the mood after dealing with my family.” He shook his head as he began to drive.

Rachel reached over to hold his hand, wanting him to know that she was there even if his family acted horribly towards him. It may have been of little consolation but the love she felt for him made it the best she had to give. “Try not to worry. We’ll visit with them for awhile so you can sit with your mom and console her a bit. Then it’ll be us. Just you and me.”

Finn nodded his head “it's hard not to worry. Don't take this the wrong way but I feel like I shouldn't have let you come. I just feel like they're going to be mean.”

Rachel couldn’t take what he said ‘the wrong way.’ Any other time, she might have because she was sensitive and a little dramatic. But when Finn was struggling with family matters, she heard the sincerity in his words. “I can handle them. As long as they aren’t mean to you.

He gave her a small smile. “It's just going to be stressful.”

“It will be, but there’s really no way around that. We’re prepared though. I’m hoping that knowledge is going to help us stay away from too much drama.”

“That's true baby.” He agreed and reached over for her hand. He quieted down as he drove, listening to the music on the radio.

Rachel kept hold of his hand as they cruised down the highway, her voice tracking with the radio every now and again. “Did I mention that I got a text back from my dad earlier? He said that the house will be empty while we’re there. He’s on a romantic getaway. It’ll be a little like the old days.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked with a smile. “That will be awesome. We can do dirty things all over the house and no one will know.” He joked.

“I want to argue you on that point but that was the bulk of what we did there. The only place we never did things it was in my father's room which would've been… weird.”

“Yeah, that's a line I wouldn't cross.” He laughed.

“Everything else is still fair game.” Rachel leaned back in her seat, her hand still in his. She wished that he didn't have to worry about how a trip to Lima would go, especially when it was obvious he loved being there. If she knew the secret formula, she'd have used it to make his family less… confrontational.

“I like that.” He gave her a smile. “I just don't even feel like I'm going home and that feels weird to me.”

Rachel's gaze shifted from the flat landscape outside her window to her husband. “Understandable. It's not exactly a fun vacation or visit. It's more somber and a necessity.”

He stayed quiet for a moment before speaking his thoughts. “It just feels weird. What if he doesn't ever wake up?”

Rachel didn't want to think about that potential outcome, even if it had crossed her mind. “One thing at a time. If that happens, we'll deal with it then. And whatever help your mom might need that we can give, we give it.”

Finn nodded his head slowly. “Maybe I should have tried to be nice to him..”

“Do you think it would've made you feel better right now?”

“I don't know, Rach, because I don't really know how I feel now.”

“That's okay, baby. It's a complicated situation. But…” Rachel inhaled deeply before speaking again. “No matter how you've felt about Burt or what kind if relationship you could've had, it wouldn't have changed this from happening.” She squeezed his hand.

“I know it couldn't..” He agreed with a nod. “I guess I feel like I should feel different because he's the closest thing I have to a dad.”

“It's a terrible thing that's happening but it doesn't mean you have to feel any more or less than you do. And it doesn't mean that how you feel now won't change. Take it easy on yourself.”

Finn gave her a small smile “I’m sorry I’m being so weird about it. I'll stop.”

Rachel shook her head, not wanting him to stifle any feelings that he might have. “It’s not weird that you’re feeling how you are. I just don’t want you to beat yourself up over things.” Unbuckling, she was careful as she scooted closer. “You don’t ever have to stop talking to me.” Her head rested on his shoulder.

Finn felt comfort in having her close to him. As much as he was dreading any drama he was glad that his wife was with him to counter all of the bad feelings. “Thank you, baby. I think I'll just have to wait until we are actually there before I know how I actually feel.”

Rachel nodded, her eyelids feeling heavy from staring at the road in front of them. “Good idea.” She was tempted to move back to her seat but something in her told Rachel that she was right where she belonged.

Finn let himself get lost in thought while he drove, his hand in Rachel's as often as it could be. When they finally reached Lima, he was so tired he couldn't imagine doing anything but sleeping but he parked and pulled his phone out to call his mother and find out where she was.

Rachel had dozed off at some point, her eyes popping open when she heard Finn’s voice. Rubbing one eye, she saw he was making a phone call. His mother, she gathered. Sitting up straight, she caught the grey of the sky outside and it made her shiver. Fitting, seeing as why they were back.

Finn wasn't surprised she was at the hospital. He sighed as he hung up the phone. “So.. Maybe we should go to the hospital for a few and make an appearance and then go to your dads and sleep a little. I'm exhausted.”

Rachel put up no objections despite her hesitation at seeing his mother. “I'm sure she'd appreciate seeing you first thing.”

Finn nodded his head and began the drive to the hospital. When he was parked in the lot, he turned to Rachel and gave her a kiss. “Are you sure you want to go in with me?”

Rachel couldn't honestly say she wanted to go into a hospital at all, much less one where she might meet hostility from her in-laws. But it wasn't about her. “We're a team, you and I. So I'm going with you.”

He gave her another kiss before he moved to get out of the truck. He walked around to the other side of the truck to open her door and took her hand as they walked in. After asking the person at the front where to go, he headed that way. He stopped in front of the room and squeezed Rachel's hand then let it go and stepped in. His mother got up from her chair when he walked in and hugged him, then Rachel. “He still hasn't woke up,” she said, tears escaping. Finn reached out to grab his mother’s hand “I’m sorry, mom..” He said quietly.

Rachel walked beside Finn through the hospital, ready to step back and let him console his mother. To her surprise, Carole hugged her. Rachel held her weeping mother-in-law tightly before letting go. “Is there anything we can get you, Carole? A change of clothes, maybe? Or some coffee?” Rachel assumed she hadn't left Burt’s side.

“Kurt, Blaine and I could probably use a few things from the house.” She spoke. Finn nodded his head “of course. Just make a list. We were just going to come here for a bit and then catch up on sleep. We have been driving all day.” Carole rolled her eyes but Finn ignored it.

Rachel caught the haughty gesture from Carole but let it pass since it was obvious she was distraught. Turning toward Finn, Rachel put her arm around him. “If you want, I can run to get what they need so you can be here.” The words were barely a whisper, meant for him alone.

Finn looked at Rachel, not necessarily wanting to be alone but thinking it would alleviate any of the added tension in the room to have some alone time with his mom. “Rachel can run to the house real quick, mom if you want to text her everything you need.” He offered and Carole nodded her head.

Rachel kissed his cheek and took the keys from his pocket. “I'll be back as soon as possible.” Rachel walked out of the room, pausing as she glanced back at Finn with his family. All she could do was hope all would go well in her absence as she walked down the hall and toward the parking lot.

Finn watched Rachel leave before he turned his attention back to his mom. He had actively been avoiding looking at Burt, the entire situation still feeling out of body for him. Carole didn't give Finn much time to think about it before she started grilling him on why he had told Kurt he wasn't going to come. As Kurt had done, Carole accused Rachel and Finn had a hard time not losing his cool because of it. He let her rant at him before he calmly replied “Mom, I really need you to stop blaming Rachel for everything. I make my own choices and Rachel stands behind me. The exact same way I stand behind her. She just wants to be accepted by you. She's here to support you and to be here for Burt the same way Blaine is. So just… Stop. Please don't make it hard to be here.” He said with a sigh. “I'm going to go wait for Rachel outside but we'll bring your stuff in.” He said and walked out, waiting for Rachel in the waiting room.

Rachel drove carefully through Lima, dejavu setting in as she drove down the street where Carole and Burt lived. The house was quiet and Rachel felt strange as she gathered what Carole had texted her. She stopped by the room that had been set up as Finn's when Carole had first moved there. Not much had changed about it, a fact that made her smile. She tucked all the required things in a reusable bag then set them on the seat of the truck. She made one stop between the house and the hospital, buying warm meals from a deli for Carole, Kurt, and Blaine and flowers for the room. Her arms were full as she approached Burt’s room again. She only made it to the waiting room, noticing Finn sitting alone. “Things got a little tough, didn't they?”

Finn played on his phone until he saw Rachel walk in. He stood up and took a couple things from her to help. “Uh, yeah.. I just didn't want to fight with her when there's already so much going on.” He shrugged.

Rachel let him take the food. Reaching up, she kissed him. “You're a good son. Let's drop in with this stuff then go back to dad's.” She took the first steps, leading them into Burt’s room. “Everything you all need is in the bag and there is some food too since hospital food is notoriously terrible.” She set the flowers on a table and the bag by Carole. “I can't imagine what you're going through.” Rachel put her arm around Carole. “But I'll be thinking good thoughts for you and Burt. And call if you need anything at all.”

Finn watched Rachel speak to his mother with a small smile. He loved that no matter what, Rachel was always trying to be the bigger person in this situation. Carole leaned into Rachel “Thank you. I am glad that you two are here.” She stated, looking to Finn to make sure he had heard it too. “If you need me back here just let me know, mom.” he said softly and reached for Rachel's hand so they could leave.

“We're family. We will always be here for one another.” With a final squeeze, Rachel let go of Carole and took Finn’s hand.

Finn squeezed Rachel's hand as they walked out. “That was really nice of you, baby.”

Rachel walked alongside him, her arm looping around his. “I know what it's like to have a husband I love more than anything. I just did what I'd want someone to do for me in that situation. And I meant what I said about family. They may not like me, but that doesn't mean I won't try.”

“They like you. I really think it's just me they have an issue with and they can use you as an excuse or something.” He shrugged as they stepped back out into the cold. He hurried to the truck and opened the door for her before he jogged around the front and got in the driver’s side. “It's cold and I just wanna cuddle and sleep.” He whined playfully as he started the truck.

Rachel didn't press the issue of who his family disliked - her or him. It would do no good, especially with the family in its current state. “Sleep and cuddling sound good right now.” The afternoon was becoming early evening and it felt like the day should have been over.

Finn started driving to her dad’s house. “Should we pick up food?”

“Let's order pizza later, like the old days.” If Rachel had to be in Lima, she was going to immerse herself in the luxury that life had afforded her. No bills or worries about money or school. All she had to do now was relax.

“Pizza does sound good.” He smiled with a nod. It didn't take long before they were parking in front of the house. “I'm kind of excited. I miss living here.” He admitted before getting out.

Rachel nodded in agreement was she slipped out of the truck and readied the house key she still kept on her ring. “Me too. Even if it's mostly for all of the good memories we made here.” She pushed open the door and crossed the threshold.

Finn grabbed their bags before following after his wife into the house. “I'll go set these upstairs.” He said as he headed up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Rachel hung her coat in the usual spot then followed him up the stairs. Her room looked the same, though it had been kept up. Her father probably had a service coming in to clean once a week or so since domesticity had never really been his strong suit. She sunk into her bed, the one thing she missed about Lima and her old house. “Now I can truly relax.” Scooting onto her side, she patted her pink comforter. “Join me?”

Finn smiled down at her. “I like this view. You in your old bed. It reminds me of when I first fell in love with you.” He crawled onto the bed and gave her a kiss.

Rachel scooted a little closer, not that she had far to go. “You're giving me butterflies, just like when I first fell in love with you. I very much like it.”

“You just always do things that make me feel so like… Crazy in love with you.” He said with a laugh. “Like when you're so nice to my mom when I lose my cool.”

Rachel stroked his cheek softly. “You love her, and I love you. That makes kindness easier. Plus, without her, there'd be no you. Without knowing it, she gave me a wonderful gift.”

He gave her another kiss “I'm so happy you're my wife.” He was feeling emotional from everything and it was easier to just redirect it all to Rachel.

The changes in Finn were usually quite subtle, now being no different. But Rachel laid by, her hand touching his, knowing that this was the safest way for him to let things out. “There's no title that I could have that would mean more to me than Mrs. Hudson. And no person who I'd rather share this crazy life with than you.”

He rest his head next to hers on the pillow and wrapped his arm around her as he yawned. “It's been a long day, huh?”

“One of the longer ones we’ve had, that’s for sure. And it hasn’t been any kind of fun, with the exception of us making out in your truck.” Rachel’s forehead touched Finn’s, her lips brushing softly against his. “Take your nap, baby. It might be just what you need right now.”

“we should have done a little more.. Then it would have been fun.” He joked. He closed his eyes as she kissed him “You're right. I'm gonna try.” He said softly.

“You do that. Then maybe we can revisit making out when you’ve had some rest.” Rachel relaxed next to him and started to hum, her own eyes heavy again from the toll the day had taken.

Finn wanted to make a comment about making out but he was already falling asleep. It didn't take much longer before he was out completely.

Rachel watched him sleep for what she considered quite a while before she dozed off herself. Since she’d just slept in the truck, she only napped for half an hour, her eyes parting without grogginess when she awoke.

Finn slept for a little longer than Rachel, his arm moving around her as he did. “Did you have a good nap?” He asked sleepily.

Rachel kissed him, her arm slipping under his so they were holding one another. “It was a nice little cat nap. You looked like you were enjoying your rest.”

“I did. I probably could have slept all night.” he kissed her cheek.

“You can do that. I won't make you get out of this bed. I know you need it.”

“It’s okay. We still gotta eat and I might go back to the hospital tonight… haven't decided yet.”

“I can order the pizza now so that you have plenty of time to eat and go back if that's what you decide.”

“That works for me.” He gave her another kiss and got up from the bed to grab his phone so they could order. He sat down again, handing his phone to her.

Rachel took the phone from him and dialed the number for their favorite place, ordering half mushroom, half meat lovers. “He said they’re running a little behind so it’s going to be about an hour.”

“An hour.” He said with a playful pout. “What are we gonna do until then?”

Placing his phone on the stand next to her bed, she turned to him. “Well, what would you like to do in the hour we have?”

“Um..” He looked up as he thought. “We could watch a movie or make out. Or watch a movie and make out.” He gave her a smile.

“Or we could just skip the movie and…” Sliding close to him, Rachel’s fingers combed through the ends of his hair as her lips touched his. The action, she figured, would speak for itself.

Finn accepted her decision gladly and kissed her back. His arm moved around her to pull her closer as he deepened the kiss.

Rachel's lips parted, the warmth of his kiss, his breath, sending warm streaks along her spine. It was the first time that day she'd felt normalcy, borderline happiness. Finn really was all it took.

He kissed her passionately, his tongue brushing against hers. His hand ran down her back to her bottom as he let his kisses direct down to her neck.

Rachel moaned softly as Finn's hands explored and his lips found their favorite spot. “You still can't leave marks there.”

He groaned in protest, but decided that he would just leave a mark somewhere no one could see instead. Pulling back, he pushed his hands up her shirt with a playful smirk. “I'll do it under here then.”

Rachel nearly whined when he moved back, a smile swiftly following when his hands moved up her sides. “That sounds perfect.” sitting up a little, she worked her shirt off.

Finn didn't let much time pass once she got her shirt off for his lips to attach to her neck again. He kissed his way down to her chest slowly before he reached her breast and circled her nipple with his tongue.

Rachel's head tipped back as he teased her skin, a soft sound passing her lips. She'd waited all day for him, for them. It never escaped her how much the need they had for one another showed when they could finally be like they were now.

Finn was soft at first, but his movements grew as he made good on telling her he was going to mark her. His hand found hers as he began to suck on her skin, pushing it against the bed.

Rachel tried but couldn't keep still. Her back arched her body against him, the idea of the marks he would leave making her ache for more. “I love this, being yours.”

Finn lifted his head enough to look at her with a smirk. “I like making you mine.” He said as his lips moved back to hers. His hips moved against her as he kissed her passionately.

With one hand free, Rachel moved it under the back of his shirt. Her nails pressed lightly into his skin as his tongue again touched her. “How else would you like to make me yours, Mr. Hudson?

“I could show you better than I could tell you.” He reached between them to do undo the button of her jeans.

Rachel let a tiny grin curve her lips as he pulled her pants away from her body. “Show me, then. Show me how good you are.”

Finn pulled her pants away and moved between her legs, pressing kisses to her thighs. He paused as he reached her center before his tongue ran along her.

Rachel almost felt guilty. Wasn't she meant to be taking care of him, easing his woes? Yet there he was, his tongue making her feel almost impossibly good. “Baby…” She moaned as her fingers clenched in his hair.

His tongue pressed against her as he rest one hand on her stomach. He was letting this moment be a welcome distraction and Rachel never disappointed in that area.

Her hand covered his, hoping that he wouldn't anchor her down. Of all the tantalizing things he did to her, this was, by far, one of the best. Finn knew her body so well, what she liked and how she reacted. And he read her perfectly every time, making her keen his name this one, her head rolling to the side and her legs quivering.

His focus was solely on getting her off now as his tongue moved along her clit. He turned his hand to leave their fingers and let his other hand move near his mouth to press a finger into her.

Rachel had to stop herself from tugging his hair too hard. “God, baby, you're so good. You're gonna make me cum.”

And that's all Finn wanted to do. He pushed a second finger into her, his tongue still pressing against her nerves.

Rachel teetered on the edge as long as she could hold on, but she was no match for Finn. Her whole body unraveled, her limbs going slack as colors popped at the corner of her vision.

Finn pulled away once he knew she was finished and lifted his head with a small smile. He moved to lay beside her, his arm wrapping around her.

Rachel was still coming down when she turned into him, snuggling against his body. “You're going to need to take your pants off for me to get you back. Plus, I can't be naked all by myself.”

Finn kissed her cheek as she snuggled against him. “You don't have to, baby.” He said but pulled away so he could pull his shirt off so she wouldn't be naked alone.

Rachel couldn’t hide the slight surprise as she looked up at him. “Have to? It’s never a matter of that, baby. It’s always a case of ‘want to.’ Unless you don’t, which I’m okay with.”

He undid his jeans as he gave a small shrug. “I always want to.” He said playfully.

Rachel waited until he was undressed before moving her lips to his neck. “I thought you might. And the way you got me going, I am up to the challenge.”

Finn got his clothes completely off and wrapped his arms around her again. “Yeah?” He grinned.

“Mhmm.” Rachel's hand drifted down his abdomen, her fingers tracing the lines of his body. She worked her kisses up to his ear, nipping at it teasingly. “It's all about what you want.”

“You always know what I want baby.” He said with a small groan.

Rachel took him in her hand, making a tentative pass as she put her lips to his. “A little tit for tat, then?” Her kisses moved slowly away from his mouth as she slid down the bed. She smirked before her tongue flicked over his head, her mouth covering him as she continued stroking him lightly.

Finn watched her excitedly as she moved down the bed. He needed to touch her so his hand moved to her hair. “I love it when you do this. So much.”

Rachel's gaze flicked up, assuring him that she knew. Not only that, but every slight move she made when she performed oral sex was something she knew he liked. She slowed when she wanted it to last for him, and she took him to her throat to hear how good he truly felt. All of her tricks were calculated to what she knew would inevitably push him over the edge.

Rachel always knew how to drive him crazy in all the right ways in these moments. He moaned her name as his head tilted back against the pillows. “You're so amazing.” He told her.

Her name on his lips was intoxicating and she had to pace herself a little upon hearing it. Easing back, her hand never stopping, she smiled at her husband. “I want you to cum for me, baby.” To accentuate her point, her head dipped down again.

He hated how quickly those words always pushed him over the edge. His stomach tensed as he grew closer until he finally released with a groan.

Rachel waited until he'd finished before cuddling up close to him and placing a kiss on his neck. “This really is like old times.” She mused remembering the first time they'd done something similar in her bed. “Well, without the nerves.”

“It is.” He smiled. “You're better at it now. I mean, you were good then but.. You know.”

“I'm more comfortable with it now. And you're right. I've got a more advanced skill level now.” Patting his chest, she sat up. “I'll be right back.” She scooted off the bed to go rinse out her mouth.

“I don't think you liked it very much then.” He said with a laugh. He watched her walk away before he stretched and got up to put boxers and a T-shirt on so one of them at least would be dressed when the delivery showed up.

Rachel brushed her teeth and swished a bit of mouthwash around before retrieving shorts and a camisole of his from her bag. “It wasn't that. There just seemed like a lot of pressure to be good. Not from you but… in general, everything a girl sees and hears in high school stresses how important being good is. I actually heard three boys talking in math class one time and one said he was breaking up with a girl because she just laid there. Like she was supposed to be a porn star at sixteen or something.”

Finn was tempted to make a joke about Quinn at that, but he shook that off. “Well, not everyone has like good chemistry the way we do. But… Guys in high school were stupid about things like that. “ he laughed.

“They were.” With her top in place, she moved toward her husband. Her hand swept over his cheek before she took his face in both. The kiss was delicate, almost chaste, taking a little of her breath away. “Everything became easy back then because I loved you. And it's all still incredible because I love you even more.”

He wrapped his arms around her and smiled. “I feel the same way baby. You're the love of my life so loving you is easy.”

Her hands fell away and her cheek rested against his chest. “I like being the love of your life and that your mine. It makes everything a little easier.”

“I've been like the most clingy and annoying husband tonight so I think you know how much I feel the same for you.”

Rachel looked up at him, not entirely convinced of his assessment. “You've been a husband who needed support from his wife. That is something I can most definitely give.”

“you always do a great job of it. I hope you think I'm as supportive. “

“Of course you are. Even on my toughest days, I know you'll be at home, ready to tell me that I'm so much better than I think.”

He smiled and gave her a kiss just in time for the doorbell to ring. “Finally!” He said as he hurried down the stairs to pay for their pizza.

Rachel couldn't be too put out when he rushed to the front door. She made her slow descent and spotted him coming back in with the pizza. “Where should we partake?”

“The kitchen?” He suggested as he walked to the kitchen table and set the pizza down. He pulled a piece out and began to eat.

Rachel nodded, seating herself next to him at the table and pulling a slice of pizza out of the box. “It’s definitely not New York pizza, but it’s still good. I always liked our Lima pizza, though.”

“I still like Lima pizza.” He shrugged. “I feel like you love anything New York and I'm still stuck in Lima.” he joked.

“That’s okay. Lima was your first home and I think it probably always will be your home in your heart. New York is mine. To be honest, as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where I am. New York just makes my career dreams easier.”

“New York makes you happiest though so I’ve pretty much put it in my head as forever for us. I'm cool with it. Lima isn't that far.”

Leaning over, Rachel kissed his cheek before going back to her food. “I love you. And that my happiness means that much to you. I know New York hasn't been easy for you, or us, but the fact that you are doing it for me means the world to me.”

He gave her a smile “If you're happy I'm pretty happy.” He said with a nod.

“You make me so very happy.” Sitting back down, Rachel was hit by a rush of emotions thinking about Carole and Burt. It could be her in that hospital one day, praying for her husband to hang onto life. To come back to her. Staring down at the plate in front of her, she couldn't bear to think about that scenario.

Finn watched her for moment “you okay, baby?’

An indiscreet tear had caught her off guard, Rachel swiping at it. “I was just thinking about your mom and how I’d feel if I were in her shoes. What it would be like to… lose you.” Without hesitation, she climbed out of her chair and into Finn’s lap, just wanting to be close and wrapped up in him. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

Finn wrapped his arms around her, her words making him feel guilty for getting annoyed with his mother earlier. “Try not to think about that kind of thing, baby.” He said softly.

“I don't usually. This whole thing has made me a little emotional about it.” Rachel's head lay on his chest, her whole body relaxing as he held her. “I know we say ‘i love you’ a lot but I need you too.”

It would be a lie to say he hadn't been in a similar mindset. He rubbed her side “I love you more than anything.” He kissed the top of her head.

Rachel curled in as close as possible, the warmth of him making her feel a familiar safety. “Thank you for understanding. Even if I interfered with your pizza.”

“Hey, we've established you reign above pizza. By a little.” He teased softly.

Rachel laughed, the sound quiet and muffled against his shirt. “Only a little.” Looking back at the table, she sighed. “I'll let you get back to it. Then I think I'm going to lay down.” Reluctantly, she slunk back to her own chair, the half-eaten slice of pizza no longer of any interest to her.

Finn tried to go back to his food but his focus was stuck on her. He finished the piece he'd been working on and then put the pizza away. “Let's go lay down.” He held his hand out for her.

Rachel took his hand, their fingers nestled tightly together as they climbed the stairs. Once they were settled back in her bed, Rachel cuddled in close. “My goal wasn't to be a downer during dinner. I just… I want everything to be okay for everyone. Your mom and Burt. You. Even Kurt.”

“Baby, you don't have to be the one to hold it all together when things like this are happening. I want everything to be okay too. “

Rachel bit her lip. She never considered herself the strong one in difficult situations. To hear him say that she managed to make it seem like she was made her feel better. “I want you to be able to lean on me when you need to, just like I do with you. It eases my mind knowing we can be that for each other.”

“You can be upset and still be my support.” He kissed her cheek.

Rachel's head turned so she could take advantage of his kiss, making it a proper one. “I know. This is all difficult. Almost like what you said before about not knowing how to feel.”

He gave her a small smile after their kiss. “Yeah it's a whole mess… I think we can agree though that it's sad and we want it all to be better.”

“We absolutely can.” Even though it was a subtle thing, Rachel liked seeing him smile. It reassured her that things might actually be okay.

“I hate seeing you sad but I'm so glad you're here with me.” He ran his hand down her back.

His touch made her eyes feel heavy but she wasn't ready to sleep yet. Not when they were there, together, trying to support one another. “I'm glad too. I wouldn't want you to deal with this alone.”

“I wouldn't let you deal with something like this alone either. That's what makes our relationship pretty great, I think.”

“It’s one of many things that do, baby. But it’s the most important at a time like this. No one has to feel like they’re in alone.”

“I never feel alone when I have you.” He gave her a kiss.

“You always have me. No matter where, no matter what.”

“And you always have me, baby.” He gave her a kiss. “I was thinking I would spend the morning with my mom at the hospital. By myself. I want you there but I think it will go smoother at the hospital if I just went for a while.”

Rachel wasn't keen on being alone nor having him in such a vulnerable position. But she wanted him to have what he needed, no one knowing what that was better than him. “That would probably help your mom. She needs you right now too. I think she'll appreciate you being there for her.”

“Thank you for understanding. I'll come back here to you and we will spend some time together in the afternoon “

“You know I'll be here whenever you get.” Rachel nuzzled his neck before leaving a single kiss there. “Maybe in just your t-shirt. Maybe less.”

He smirked “I like the sound of that. “

“The prospect of nudity is your Achilles heel.” Rachel moved an arm around him, his chest bearing the weight of her drooping head.

“I've got a hot wife, I can't be blamed.” He closed his eyes as they got comfortable.

“No blame. You know I like you just the way you are. It's even a little charming.”

“Yeah?” He smiled. “I guess you'd have to or you wouldn't have put up with me for so long.”

“I look at it more as enjoying it so thoroughly that I'm looking forward to forever.” Tilting her head up, her lips resting in a lazy smile. “And ever, and ever.”

He gave her a kiss as she tilted her head “I can live with forever.”

Rachel felt a flutter in her chest as they kissed, a familiar feeling that she loved. “That's a good thing since you promised it to me.”

“I don't plan on ever breaking any of my promises to you.” He said with a small smile.

“Your honesty and loyalty are two of the many things I love about you.” Rachel tried to remember the last time they'd had the time to lay in bed and just talk and be sweet with one another.

“I appreciated that you feel that way baby. Especially with a rocky start.”

“We've both changed since then. A lot. I'd like to believe this thing we share has done that for the better in both cases.”

“I think it definitely has. We found each other at the perfect time to grow together. Some people like grow apart from the person they were with in high school but I think we did the opposite. You know me better than anyone who has known me my entire life.”

Rachel listened, remembering a time when it felt like they could've drifted apart like he was describing. “I wanted to know you this way. Wanting it more than anything is one of those things I've grown into. Being with you has made me realize that dreams are flexible and that I'd rather have a best friend, someone to share my days with, than a thousand trophies.”

“Sometimes I feel guilty that you feel that way, I won't lie. It's something you feel so strongly about and I feel like I'm in the way of your potential. You've done nothing but build me up and fight for me to have a good future. I wish I could do the same thing for you.”

Rachel scooted up a little so they were level, her arms never leaving him. “And I feel the exact opposite. Because a dream is nice to have but… you've filled in the space in my life that was sad and lonely and wanting someone to notice and be loved. You've helped me to banish the feeling of being thrown away, like all I was worth was that talent and potential.” She stopped, her throat feeling thick, her eyes burning at the long-ago thoughts of no one wanting her. “You support me in the best way possible. Because when I get the creeping feeling that I'm not a worthy person, I remember your love and your faith and I know that it takes something special to have someone who sees me like you do.”

Finn gave her a kiss “It means so much to me that I play a part in all of that. And that loving you more than anything makes you feel loved.”

Rachel let the kiss distract her, quelling any potential for an emotional outburst. “On that, we feel the same. Loving you and being loved by you are the very best of what life has to offer.”

Finn smiled as he rest his head against the pillows again. “You're the best.” he said with a yawn.

“You are to me.” Kissing his cheek, she let her head rest next to his. “It sounds like you're ready for this day to be over.”

“I do and I don't. We finally have a few days off together.”

“We can still be off together tomorrow if some sleep is what you need, baby.”

“I know, I just don't want to waste any of it. I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

“I don't either. I also don't want you to burn yourself out.”

“I'll be okay baby.” He turned into her so he could cuddle her closer. He didn't want to make her emotional but he had been thinking about what it would be like if he were at risk of losing her. He just wanted to be close to her to push that away.

Finn always held her like he was, but the weight and stress of the day made the embrace feel somehow vulnerable. She wouldn't make a big deal, mostly because they were both tired and a heavy, emotional exchange would be exhausting. “Good. But I think I'm going to make you a big stack of pancakes in the morning. Have to keep my hubby nourished.” Her eyes fluttered open as she smiled.

Finn smiled at the thought of waking up to pancakes. “That sounds so good. This is why you're the best.”

“Anything to make my baby happy.” Rachel held him a little tighter, his whole body making her feel as warm and safe as always. “That I’ll always do.”

“You do a great on of that. Pancakes and you said you might be naked when I come home. It can't be a bad day with all that.”

“Upgrade ‘might be’ to a definite. It just depends on what degree of naked I am. It may be a little or a lot. Maybe completely. The surprise will be half the fun. I promise.”

“You're getting me excited.” He joked, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Rachel didn't object to the kiss, even if she was tired. “Mission accomplished, then.” Her head dipped so she could kiss him.

He kissed her with a small smile before he rest his head again. “I might have to give in and go to sleep. I love you though baby.”

“Sleep is good. It'll get you well rested for tomorrow.” Rachel pulled up the pink comforter around them, the nostalgia worthy of a smile. “I love you too.”

#finchel #rp #finchel rp #finchel 1x1

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wanna1things · 7 years ago

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Undercover Agent!Yoon Jisung

i LOVE jisung SO MUCH and gjhdgfhgsjf he looks so gOOD in his teaser pics lmao gtg byeee

Genre;; uhh undercover agent!au,, fluff,, sorry if the stuff about the police and stuff is wrong lmao am not a cia agent

Warnings;; theres mention of a contract killing & hits and a bar and like,, gang stuff??

Pairing;; Yoon Jisung x reader

Requested;; nope

Summary;; You are undercover for the organised crime unit. Yoon Jisung is your prime suspect for the contract killing of a rival gang member. Little do you know, he’s thinking the exact same thing about you...

Style;; bullet point + stuff

Word Count;; 1801

im SUPER sorry;; if you’ve requested something im super busy w family stuff and work but next week im free so ill get the requests done,, this was just something i’ve had written for a while lol its basically the plot of an episode of a tv show i watched when i was in spain in august idek what it was called but it was super cute and i thought it fit jisung because?? idk i feel like his personality fits this sort of thing lol anyway hope u enjoy

you joined the organised crime unit straight out of police training and tbh you were a prodigy

you were known for solving cases in record speed and you were always effective in undercover work

you knew of someone else on the force who was just as good at solving cases/being undercover as you were

but you had no idea who they were, just that they were in the homicide unit

anyway

your unit had been following a gang for quite a while

and you’d come to know all of their members quite well

when suddenly, the guy you were preparing to arrest was killed by a contract killer

your unit managed to catch the killer and he confessed that he was paid to kill the guy by a guy within the main gang in the city

and so your unit decided,, you should go undercover

you studied up on the members of this second gang and you focused all of your efforts on who appeared to be pulling the strings even though he wasn’t the leader

this guy called yoon jisung

luckily someone else in your unit was already undercover in the gang and so when you joined he introduced you as his half-sister

and straight away you spotted jisung looking at you up and down

you knew he was a bad guy, his files said left the police force a year ago and joined the gang straight away

he was very close to the leader already and was almost like his right hand man

little did you know, jisung was also an undercover agent

THE undercover agent from the homicide unit

he kept his real name in the gang to make his story more believable,, also because he can’t deal with fake names because he’d never adjust to being called something else lol

but boy did he think it was fishy that straight after this guy from another gang was killed that you were introduced

he immediately suspected you were in some way connected to the contract killing,, probably because you had close ties to a contract killer or something

anyway

after the gang meeting where you were introduced he approaches you straight away

and you're just like wow okay that was easy lol already my suspect is talking to me try to find info;;

that's literally exactly what he's trying to do with you as well

ahhh when he starts speaking to you you realise ;; oh my god;; he’s actually super good looking lmao no don't fall in love with a criminal

he holds out his hand for you to shake it and he smiles wide and tilts his head to the side slightly

‘Hello, y/n!! I’m Yoon Jisung!!’

you take his hand hesitantly because how is someone in a gang this bright lmao

he immediately starts asking you where you’re from and stuff which is really cute because he’s listening so intently to everything you say and he seems really interested

he’s interested for a different reason lol

so you recite what your,, fake,, life history is

it’s got bits of truth in there too but your undercover identity is that you do really have “ties” to a contract killer organisation

lmao bad idea jisung is even more suspicious

but

he also thinks you’re really cute and sweet?? Like??

and he's mentally kicking himself like lmao they’re a cold hearted killer don't fall in love

and over the next few weeks you’re always put on jobs together

when you both had to go to a meeting with the head of a supplier chain he claimed that ‘the boss told him that you needed to accompany him’

your coworker later revealed to you that no… jisung requested that you went with him to the meeting

this all was a bit,, suspicious but

you accepted it because it meant you could get close to your suspect even if it was in a weird way

one day, after you attend another meeting together he invites you out to a bar for a drink

and the gang you two are in basically controls that bar lol

so you decide you’ll try to get him drunk and get some information out of him so you can arrest him

but when you get there turns out he had the same idea and you both order virgin drinks lol

anyway

you swallow your pride and ask him about the case and you find that he oddly knows a lot??

like he knows who did it ok suspicious much jisung

and he’s realising that you know who did it too,, which is also really making you look suspicious lol

but you’re also realising that under this soft light god damn is he beautiful?? Oh my god??

lmao he's thinking the same about you like god they’re so?? Evil?? But so?? Good looking??

of course its jisung so he makes lots of terrible jokes along the way when will he stop

out of nowhere he starts to talk to you about the story of his friend in the gang being killed in a hit by the gang the guy who died was from

and he was telling the whole truth, his friend was undercover with him (which he didn't mention obviously lol) and he was killed

and jisung didn't know why he was opening up to you but you just seemed so easy to talk to lol

and you could tell this thing with his friend was really eating at him like he was truly upset wow gangsters have feelings??

in the back of your mind you were thinking ok motive found but you pushed it aside because he was really opening his heart to you and he was genuinely upset and no decent human being is about to ignore someone in distress

so as it seemed like he was about to cry you took hold of his hands and held them

he squeezed your hands back and looked up

and oh my god

he was crying but it was like a hiccupy cry (you know the one)

and it was so cute because he was smiling at you as well as like;; a thank you for being so comforting

and seriously this guy is damn cute for a gangster like wow how??

but really your feelings for each other are just getting deeper and deeper and you know it's so wrong because you’re meant to be arresting each other but you know love you can't help it

soon enough you guys are pretty much partners (in crime, literally)

like you always attend meetings together and stuff,, and y'all are both close to the boss

and you can full on admit you’ve totally fallen for this weird soppy cute gangster and don't tell anyone but he's fallen for you too UH

when suddenly there's an attempt on your colleague's life, the guy who you’re undercover with

and almost immediately there's a retaliation from what seems to be your gang

something clicks inside your brain and you realise

jisung put the hit out for that retaliation

nobody died but he did it because well you’re his partner, and your colleague is supposed to be your brother so it's like the done thing in a gang lol

little do you know, he's thinking the same about you, that you put the hit out yourself because well… it's your brother of course you’re going to get one back

so that night he decides to invite you out for a drink and then he’ll arrest you because well clear motive??

and when he invites you, you also decide that tonight's the night you’ll arrest him because DAMN the evidence is overwhelming

when you both arrive at the same bar as you went to before, you both order virgin cocktails and sit next to each other at the bar

reminiscing about the past few months of knowing each other and stuff, and laughing about how dumb jisung looked when he cried (sorry jisung youre cute i love you really??)

after a while theres a break of silence

and you both reach into your pockets/bags and pick out the handcuffs inside

you breathe in and out slowly and turn to fake jisung right as he turns to face you with his hands in his pockets

‘y/n, you’re under arrest-’

‘jisung, you’re under arrest-’

‘wait, what??’

Jisung stands up straight away and hes completely taken aback like whats going on

And theres a total ruckus going on in the bar now because ok theres two policemen here?? what

Jisung quickly grabs your hand and pulls you out of the bar and down into an alley beside it

as you’re trying to recover from that shock he fires questions at you like;;; quick fire

‘What was that?? You’re police too? What unit? Why didnt you tell me? Were you going to arrest me? What for? Oh my god, my boss is going to kill me…’

somehow you find the humour in all this

like you were just about to arrest each other for the exact same crime at the exact same time but you’re both undercover agents

(pls @ police units improve communication look what you’ve done)

when he hears your soft giggles he stops worrying and just joins in laughing because

admit it

its pretty funny yall were both the best undercover agents and you just tried to arrest each other

then he realises this cute little gang member he has a crush on isn't a gang member at all and there is no reason that he can’t kiss them right now

so he does

right then and there

and of course you’re shooketh because oh yeah;; he’s not a gangster i can totally do this and not feel bad lol

and then you realise your cover is completely and utterly blown and you can’t stay undercover anymore because BASICALLY the whole gang knows you’re policemen… either that or they think you’re into really kinky stuff oo ;)

and you can see the look on jisungs face when he realises it too but

‘Cover is blown but… got to admit it was worth it’

and he leans in to kiss you again uh BLESS

after that mess of a case you join the same unit as jisung and you two become the famous undercover couple

you always go undercover together, always as a couple because a) its easy and b) you don’t even have to act

every time someone new joins the unit you take your roles as the official parents™ of the unit and you train everyone who wants to go undercover as though they’re like your child uhh cute

your picture is up in the hall of fame for agents and sgadjfg the picture is so cute because you LOOK like parents

basically you two are like the cutest and the BIGGEST undercover agent power couple

ahhhh i hope this was enjoyable to read,, i wrote it on the train when i was on holiday so yknow not the best quality of writing but i thought it was cute so!!

#yoon jisung #jisung #yoon jiseong #wannaone #wanna one #wannaone imagines #wanna one imagines #wannable #undercover agent #undercover agent!au #au #crime!au #Produce 101 #produce 101 imagines

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sg2tiger · 7 years ago

Photo

Back again for another year of games!! I dunno, making these lists is kinda fun, and it also tends to help me actually finish games I’ve started, so I’ll probably keep doing it at the end of the year for as long as I can be bothered.

As usual, the images mostly speak for themselves, but the obligatory TL;DR reviews are under the cut. May contain spoilers.

—————————————— Kingdom: New Lands (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— For a game that only requires one button and a joystick (or some WASD if you're into that sort of thing), Kingdom is surprisingly fun. I hesitate to call it 'tower defense' because it's not, but it's definitely got a similar sort of feeling to it. Like tower defense meets resource management/building game. You - the monarch - ride around on your horse and use your carefully-managed budget of coins (and by carefully-managed I mean you can and will probably run out at some point and fuck yourself over if you haven't planned well) and recruit peasants to join and defend your steadily-growing kingdom. Give them a coin and either a bow or a hammer and a peasant will become a worker, to build and repair your towers, or an archer, to hunt by day (to earn you coins) and defend your towers from the monsters who come out at night. You can have workers cut down trees to expand your kingdom further, allowing more room for towers and eventually farms to be built to keep your coin supply steady, and upgrade your intially-tiny campsite into a true fortress. Your goal is essentially to keep building your kingdom out as far as you can across the island, while making sure it's not overrun by the monsters who get steadily more powerful every night. The monsters can and will destroy your towers, and if they catch your workers and archers they'll turn back into wandering peasants who you will need to seek out once more to give new coins. This can be tricky, too, since their campsites may be deep in the woods, and night can fall quickly if you venture out there unprepared - having the monsters attack while you're not behind the safety of your castle walls can instantly spell game over. If you manage your resources right, though, you will eventually have enough of a coin surplus to repair the broken ship lying somewhere in the wilderness, which you need in order to escape the island and move onto the next level.

All in all Kingdom is as mechanically simple as it gets, but can prove quite a challenge to survive. I think my best game lasted about 38 days, and I did manage to get at least to the second island. Plus, the visuals are absolutely gorgeous, with beautiful pixel art and lighting. It's a great game to play if you just want to unwind without thinking about anything too complicated.

—————————————— Stardew Valley (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— If you like Harvest Moon, you'll like Stardew Valley. I'm sure this has been said a million times, but really it's about as simple as that. That's not to say SV is just a 'HM clone' of course, but the similarities and inspirations are abundantly clear. There's a lot to do, interesting characters, and even a lot of mods if you get bored of the base game after a while. I think I got through about my first year before I started losing steam, and never got around to tinkering too much with mods. I should go back and give it another go sometime.

As consequence of writing this review practically an entire year since I last played, I can't think of anything more specific to say. But I do remember enjoying it.

—————————————— Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— If you liked Borderlands 2, I can't think of a good reason NOT to play TPS. It seems to get an awful lot of undeserved hate simply because 'it's not BL2', which, well, is stupid. Borderlands 2 is a great game and I can understand people feeling like TPS didn't quite live up to that reputation, but that alone doesn't make it a bad game. It's not Borderlands 3 after all - it's The Pre-Sequel. It exists to fill in the gaps between the first and second games while providing an experience and humor more similar to the second, if somewhat shorter.

One thing I particularly liked and hope we see again in future installments is that the player characters felt more real. They actually TALK to the other characters during the storyline quests, rather than feeling like essentially blank slates outside of their combat banter and backstory Echoes (of which I was never able to find all in BL2). It made me feel like my character was more involved in what was going on, and actually had more of a connection to these events and characters. I played Athena in my singleplayer game because she's the narrator of the framing story, but I was Nisha in my multiplayer game and played with a Baroness and Holo-Jack. It was fun hearing the vastly different types of commentary depending on which one of us handed in a quest, which gave more variety to the characters. I'd like to do another solo run as someone else someday even just to hear all their unique quest responses.

Also, managing O2 isn't THAT bad once you get used to it. It's a little bit of a pain early on, but once you get a decent Oz-Kit it's pretty manageable. Oxygen bubbles are plentiful on the moon's surface, and there's a lot of zones that take place almost entirely in oxygenated areas to boot. Plus, slamming is a lot of fun. I thought the mechanic was a nice way of differenciating the game a bit more from BL2, in a sorta gimmicky way without feeling terribly frustrating. Also, the grinder made getting Legendary weapons somewhat feasible compared to BL2, and there were many times I'd just spend over an hour going between the loot chest and grinder over and over. ...I mean, I don't do that. Using a save editor to give yourself infinite gold keys and playing the whole game with purple guns is cheating, and I would never do that in BL2 or TPS. Not ever.

Anyway, TPS was fun. I never got around to playing the DLC, so I guess I'll have something to look forward to next time I get the urge to do a new solo playthrough as a different character.

—————————————— Riff Racer (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Recommended ———��——————————

Another one of those 'zip around a track to your own music collection' games, so naturally I had to take a look at it. Audiosurf was my first Steam game, after all. Unlike Audiosurf, though (to which comparisons are inevitable since they're similar at a glance), Riff Racer is actually a RACING game. At least to the extent that one can race against oneself. You basically load up a song to generate a track, just like Audiosurf and similar games. If you're the first person to ever run that song, any other player who ever plays that song will be racing against your ghost - likewise, if you do a song someone else created first, they're the score you wanna beat. There's no actual other cars on the track though, just you and a lot of obstacles to avoid, ramps to jump and curvy tracks to drift. Drifting is the main way to earn points, and is also the most fun part of the game. It took me a bit to really get the hang of it, but once I did I started seeking out songs that were likely to have a lot of tight corners to drift around. I was floored when I actually managed to pull off the achievement for drifting 16 beats in one maneuver, because for the longest time I could barely manage to drift 4. And the feeling you get when you're actually able to beat a powerful ghost is [relieved] [okhand]

Of course, a lot of people play this sort of game just to chill out and not worry about things like leaderboards and high scores. That's totally fine too!! It's a great game to just sit back and chill out with, just drifting along the track with your favorite tunes. I would definitely recommend this one to anyone who's into games like Audiosurf - I get the feeling it's a bit of a lesser-known gem, and it totally deserves some more love.

—————————————— Persona 3 Portable (PSP) FINAL VERDICT: UNFINISHED —————————————— I started playing this in March, I think...as I write this, it's December, and I still haven't finished. I know P3 is one of those games that makes the 'must play' and favorite lists of a LOOOOT of people, and many will hail it as the best JRPG of all time...but I have to wonder how much of that is just being blinded by nostalgia. I certainly don't think there's ENOUGH of a difference between the Portable and PS2 versions that I'm missing some great secret that makes this game so much more amazing than I can see, at least.

I haven't picked it up in a while (I've played it on and off throughout the year) but I believe I'm somewhere around the end of September or beginning of October in-game. So I'm certainly not dismissing it after only a few hours. In fact, I'm not dismissing it at all - as a MegaTen fan, I do want to finish it at some point. Really, I just keep getting burned out by Tartarus. For me, games are games - if all I wanted was a compelling story and interesting characters, I'd read a book. A game needs to first and foremost engage me with its GAMEPLAY, and while I do enjoy story-driven games with interesting characters, that alone isn't enough to save it if the GAMEPLAY isn't engaging me enough first!! And Tartarus is just...bad. I'm sorry, but one dungeon with semi-randomized floors where the decor only slightly changes periodically as you climb higher and every single floor is practically the same grind of collect items/attack or avoid enemies/find the stairs...that's just not fun. Like not even a little. It got old somewhere around the second block, and by now I'm on, what, fifth or sixth? I can't remember, it's all the fucking same. And while I enjoy MegaTen combat, and P3 is sorta similar to the push-turn system, even those get old after a while of the same 3 encounters ad nauseum for the next 15-odd floors until you hit the next boss. It didn't take long for me to start playing with my volume muted outside story segments (I use the undub patch, otherwise I'd probably have it muted for the entirety of the game) because I was sick of hearing the same OOOOOH YEAH!!! DADADA-DA DADADA-DA!!! over and over again. One thing I've always hated is games that run on having a LOT of battles and grinding, but only one piece of battle music outside boss fights. It's cruel and unusual.

Anyway. Tartarus aside, the game's alright. I personally find social links a little odd, because I'm linking with people unrelated to my struggle against the Shadows (I still haven't hit lofty the requirements to link with the girls, and outside the PSP-exclusive non-canon Girl Route you can NEVER link with your male teammates). It's this bizarre sort of disconnect - I understand that these people are part of my life in their own ways, but it feels very segregated. I should be bonding with the people in my party, the ones living in my dorm, my fellow Persona users who understand the stress we're under and can relate to my struggles. Instead, I'm cringing at a wannabe playboy who thinks his teacher wants to bone him, or a rules-obsessed student council jerkbag, both of whom I have to tell what they WANT to hear and not how I ACTUALLY feel because it's all about leveling up those sweet sweet link ranks. Devil Survivor 2 used a similar link system (most likely inspired by P3, since I believe that came first), but instead of being random people from my class/town I was actually linking with my party members. Being able to bond with the people I'm spending most of my game with felt a lot more meaningful to me than the P3 links - in fact, for the first in-game month or two, I kept waiting for some of my early links to find out about Shadows and get moved into the dorm as playable characters. I was very surprised to find out that they just ultimately had nothing to do with the main gameplay and storyline whatsoever. Maybe that's the point. Maybe there's some profound reason for this that I don't know yet because I haven't finished the game. But to me, it feels disjointed and unrelated to the main game I'm supposed to be playing here.

Social Links, and Tartarus. Aside from the storyline itself, those are basically what make up this game - and I'm not terribly fond of either. Sure, I'm enjoying the story well enough, and the glimpses I get of my party members through the main storyline and things like the hidden camera videos...but that's not enough for me. The GAMEPLAY needs to win me over as much as the story, and it's just not. I'd like to stick it out and finish it, and I do still pick it up from time to time...but there's a reason I haven't finished it despite starting it so many months ago, and this is basically it. I simply don't find it fun. And it's great if it's the favorite game or best JRPG for a lot of people? But it's not that for me.

(I'd also like to play P4 and even P5 someday, but I don't own any consoles so I'm basically riding on the popularity of things like Dangan Ronpa to convince more Japanese developers that porting their games to Steam is worthwhile...otherwise I'll probably never get to play either of those)

—————————————— Dragon's Dogma: Dark Arisen (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Recommended —————————————— While I ultimately burned out before I could finish my NG+ all the way through and then go to Bitterblack Isle, I had a lot of fun with this game. DLC aside, I basically 100% completed everything else - all normal quests (had to catch a few missable ones on my NG+ for the achievement), all regular notice board quests (including the annoying ones like mining a fuckton of that one rare mineral or getting 100 clumps of hair or whatever it was, and the one with all the skulls), and even got all the badges (also including the missable ones on my NG+). The badge sidequest should absolutely have an achievement attached. I'm not sure why I bothered actually...personal satisfaction, I guess. Either way, I only bother to put that kind of effort into a game if I really enjoy it, so that says it all right there.

Dragon's Dogma, on the surface, is a fairly generic fantasy RPG. The world of Gransys is pretty dull - aside from the small village where you grew up, there's pretty much just the One Big City, and long stretches of wilderness with a fortress or two. The NPCs are mostly generic peasants with a handful of quest givers, aside from the story-important characters...and everyone talks in this weirdly forced archaic style where 'aught' is the most popular word in the entire world. Hearing your pawns say the same 3 stock phrases over and over again also gets really old - yes, I know that goblins ill like fire, I've probably killed more than a million of them by now!! The story is also told in a really confusing style to where you probably won't grasp what's actually going on until you go through a New Game+ - not because it's terribly difficult in itself, but just because of the odd way in which the game gives out information. Having to talk to an NPC 3 or 4 times in order to hear all they have to say in a given conversation doesn't help matters, either, because if you don't know enough to do that you may well only speak to them once and then walk away, simply not having enough information to know what just happened. It's basically Capcom trying to apply JRPG logic to an open, WPRG-style world, and it doesn't always work.

That aside, however...the real meat of the game is in the combat. The hack-and-slash combat and multiple character classes with their own abilities and playstyles is what really makes the game. I found it similar to Kingdoms of Amalur, if slighly more robust - not surprising, though, since it's from the same company responsible for Devil May Cry. So you can be certain that the combat always feels engaging and solid. The best part to me, though, is the giant monsters. After a while you'll get sick of cyclopes and chimera (the most common large monsters), but in the early game they're appropriately terrifying. You're ENCOURAGED to climb up on them and go after their weak points, rather than standing at their feet slashing away like an idiot. If you're fighting a cyclops, naturally you'd go for the eye. But what if it's an armored cyclops, with a helmet protecting the eye? Then you have to get the helmet off before you can really damage it. If you're fighting a chimera, each part of the beast does something different - you generally want to kill the snake first so it can't poison you, but meanwhile the goat is shooting magic at you and the lion is tearing you to shreds with its claws, so situationally it may be better to take out one of those parts first. With each part, you disable and severely weaken the beast, making it easier to finish it off. Every enemy has a weakness like that, and it's particularly important for the giant ones. And God forbid you don't take advantage of the weaknesses when fighting a dragon (sorry, a drake/wyvern/wyrm), you're pretty much guaranteed to die.

Another thing I really liked was how much nighttime really ups the terror of encountering giant dangerous enemies like this. Gransys isn't nearly so big a world as it tricks you into thinking, because there's no mounts and fast travel is fairly limited/difficult for the first half of the game or so. This means that if you want to get anywhere significantly far across the map, you're going to have to pack enough lantern oil and prepare to travel during the night. Night in Dragon's Dogma - even with a lantern - is PUNISHINGLY dark. This is the kind of darkness you WISH your Skyrim lighting mods and ENB could achieve. Your lantern only illuminates a small circle around your character - just enough to see where you're going and not bump into things. But not enough to warn you of a chimera about to leap at you from the darkness before it's far too late to dodge...something that happened to me once during the early game and nearly gave me a heart attack (I don't play horror games because I can't handle jump scares, but this chimera had more or less the same effect on me). You have to be very cautious and very quiet, and sticking to the roads can mean the difference between life and death. Resource management is also important and you can't just stock up on 300 mega-heal potions at once - even in the late game, you'll still only be buying/finding the lowbie herbs, so you've got to combine them together yourself to make more powerful healing items. The crafting system is also forgivingly simple (a case of 1 + 2 = 3, across the board) so it doesn't get overly tedious to have to spend a little prep time rifling through your bank storage and combining some items before adventuring.

The pawn system is also a lot of fun (despite how much their repetitive dialogue will grate on you after the first hour). I've always preferred that JRPG feel of traveling with a party of adventurers to the WRPG style of being a wandering solo hero (I'd travel with 3 followers in Skyrim if having even one follower didn't tip the game balance so far in the 'too easy' direction). By mid-game I'd basically settled into Magic Archer as my class, so I'd usually have a fighter (my pawn), a mage (dem heals), and either a ranger or strider to fill in the gaps. It really captures that sort of oldschool JRPG feel of traveling the little 8-bit lands with your little 8-bit party...but like, in a 3D third-person open-world(ish) way, so more immersive. I only wish there were more dungeons - after backtracking to the catacombs and the canyon place 300 times within a playthrough, it got pretty stale. But the first time through the Water God's Altar I remember feeling like this was a JRPG-style dungeon given life, with the puzzle solving that's almost never present in WRPGs.

In the end, while Gransys itself always left me wanting something more, the core mechanics of the game were solid enough to keep even the multiple backtracking trips to the same 5 places fun. And while the story was a bit convoluted in how it was told, once I really put together what HAPPENED in the end, I was speechless. Not to say it was some kind of incredibly profound, award-worthy storytelling experience, but it was one of those moments where it all clicks together at once and the realization sets in and you just sit there for a few moments thinking, 'oh my God'. I won't say anything more so as not to spoil it, but don't be quick to dismiss the story as just an excuse plot for a game that's only about the combat, either. All in all I'd definitely recommend this game to anyone who enjoys RPGs, J- and W- alike, and I really really wish we'd get Dragon's Dogma online someday, or another single player game as a sequel, or something. I just want more.

Guess I'd better get my ass to Bitterblack Isle.

—————————————— Sunless Sea (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— Having played Fallen London before (on and off, with very long breaks in between because I keep forgetting it exists...then I go back for a bit, rinse, repeat), I sorta knew what to expect with Sunless Sea in terms of narrativ style, setting, and general weirdness. What I didn't realize was just how HARD it was gonna be. Within less than 5 minutes of making my first character, I got eaten by a shark. Amazingly though, through numerous EXTREMELY CLOSE brushes with death and, dare I say, miracles...my second character (Tigeru 2, in a name scheme that shows just how long I expected this character to last) is miraculously STILL ALIVE. In addition to surviving, though, Tigeru 2's life goals consist of finding the bones of their lost father and also killing crabs. Lots of crabs. Like, all of them. Because fuck those guys. Anyway, it's hard to REALLY give a solid verdict on this one given the general style of the game and the fact that I haven't gotten very FAR yet...but it's good at being what it set out to be, and that's a difficult exploration game set in the Fallen London universe.

—————————————— Darkest Dungeon (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— I had my eye on Darkest Dungeon for a while before it left early access, but was never quite ready to drop any money on it because the reviews would often swing wildly between positives and negatives. Conceptually, I loved the idea - that the reality of dungeon crawling would not just be heroic, climactic battles but also stress, resource management, and fear. But while it sounds good on paper, it also sounded like something that might work better as an anime plot than a video game, because maintaining those exact same resources could quickly go from 'fun' to 'chore'. Anyway, I finally decided to take the plunge during the summer sale, and it's almost addictively fun...in small bursts. It's the kind of game where I can get caught up in the 'just one more level' dynamic for a while, but also the kind of game that feels repetitive and tedious after so many runs fighting the same enemies over and over. But I also think that I'm playing it 'wrong', in a way - because I don't want to lose the characters I've worked so hard to build, I'm playing it too safe. I'm so terrified of dying against bosses that I've actually OVERLEVELED my best characters, not realizing that characters who are TOO strong will refuse to take on levels and bosses they deem beneath their ability. If your heroes are too strong for the weaker missions, you just won't be allowed to bring them.

Some might call this a type of 'fake difficulty' but I'd disagree because it really does enforce the game's entire theme. Which is actually kind of nice because it ensures you're forced OUT of that 'playing it safe' comfort zone that I was trapping myself in, waiting until you're so OP you can stomp anything that comes your way. That sort of gameplay goes against everything Darkest Dungeon stands for - the whole point of the game is that you're NEVER going to be truly prepared for the horrors that lurk here, and that there's no such thing as weak enemies or an invincible party. Your preparedness to tackle a dungeon lies not in your character's levels and OP abilities but your ability to manage resources, trinkets, phobias and diseases, and picking the right heroes for the job instead of steamrolling every level with your 4 favorites. And even then, there's the RNG...which is something I really hate, and the subject of many negative reviews, but I honestly think it also makes sense for this game. Again, no matter how prepared you are, you're going up against unspeakable eldritch horrors here. YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY ACCOUNT FOR EVERY CONTINGENCY. Sometimes you can do your absolute best and things will still end up going terribly wrong because you were just unlucky. Heroes will die. You may have to drop rare treasures and flee just to save at least one life. It's bound to be frustrating, sure, but it's the very nature of this game to be like that. All you can do is make the best of a bad situation, and rebuild from your losses to continue on. No, it's not going to be easy - but if that's what you expected, you picked the wrong game in the first place.

—————————————— Baldur's Gate Enhanced Edition (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: BUGGY AS FUCK ——————————————

I grew up on Baldur's Gate (well, Baldur's Gate II moreso) when I was just a wee child. Thus, when I found out they were rereleasing 'enhanced' editions, I was very excited. However...anyone who has played Baldur's Gate or similar CRPGs from the days of yore knows that they're long, and often tedious games. So while both enhanced editions sat in my Steam library for a long time, I could never bring myself to actually want to sit down and PLAY them because the idea of starting such a long saga was daunting. But during the summer, some friends I often play co-op games with proposed the idea of doing a multiplayer run...and it sounded fun!! At first.

At least, until we realized that Baldur's Gate Enhanced Edition was barely 'enhanced' at all. Aside from a few new characters, it was basically just the original game...bugs and all. And there are a LOT of bugs. In fact, this is quite possibly the buggiest game I have ever played, and I wish I were exaggerating. We tried our best to deal with the snags and press on, but it eventually just got to be too much, and none of us were really having any fun with it. Thus, we decided to call it quits and do a multiplayer run of Neverwinter Nights II instead.

Unless you're a hardcore fan of the originals or a serious masochist, I couldn't recommend this game. Maybe the enhanced BG II is better...and maybe someday I'll find out. That was literally my childhood game, after all. But BG I EE...is just bad.

0/10 would not Enhance again.

—————————————— Tabletop Simulator (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Recommended —————————————— Simultaneously not an actual game, but yet, every game known to man. You know that feeling when you walk into the local comic and games shop and see all these really cool games that you and your friends would have a lot of fun with...if your friends didn't all live halfway across the country - if not other countries entirely? Because I know that feel, and it sucks. Enter Tabletop Simulator, where those games probably already have mods...and if they don't, you can make your own with just a little ambition and elbow grease!! In fact, I've got 181 hours in TTS currently, and I'd wager less than 50 of that was spent actually playing games with friends - the rest has been me MAKING games to play with my friends. I made Umineko Clue (AKA Clumineko) as well as a version skinned for my friends and our roleplaying OCs...then I adapted the Risk-based game of gang warfare that I'd made as a final project in my game design class in college...then I just spent ungodly amounts of time decorating a 3D room with 3D objects to play games in with my friends, AND applied the same treatment to revamping the Clumineko mod into an entire 3D room based on the iconic witches tea room. Never in a million years would I call myself a 'modder', but I actually learned how to do some basic stuff in Blender and Unity ENTIRELY so I could make fun games and shit to do in TTS with my pals.

It may not be a 'game' so much as a sandbox physics engine with which to make and play many games with ease, but even so I'd be hard-pressed not to call it one of the best games of all time. If you have a good group of online pals I seriously could not recommend this one enough.

—————————————— ICEY (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— At the very last minute I found out about the Steam Link bundle deal in which you'd get the normally-expensive device for $1 with purchase of a little-known little 2D action game. Despite not having a great interest in the Link, I could hardly pass up the offer to get it for a dollar, and the game seemed pretty fun besides. On the surface, ICEY is a pretty fun little action platformer...but ALSO on the surface, it's a meta game. And that's because it advertises itself in exactly this way. That's the biggest flaw with ICEY, I think - you don't make a meta game and then say 'hey, this secretly is a meta game!!'. If it had downplayed those aspects and just branded it as an action platformer with maybe some cryptic hints that there was more to it than that, encouraging players to explore and find out what's going on in the game's multilayered world...it would have been a lot better, and maybe could have gone on to become a cult favorite instead of flying under everyone's radar. That aside, it's a pretty good game. The action is actually quite fun on its own, and uncovering the various endings is entertaining. The English voice over could use some work, but it's a Chinese game that only recently even GOT an English voiceover, apparently, so it's hard to fault that too much. Again, the meta aspects would have been more enjoyable if the game didn't advertise it outright, but it's alright.

I haven't actually finished it yet (think I have another boss or two to go; I got stuck and haven't yet gone back to it) but if the story actually ends up making sense in the end that'd be nice. I'm sort of waiting for that kind of payoff because right now everything just seems a little nonsensical. For what it's worth, though, I did have fun playing it.

—————————————— World of Warcraft: Legion (PC) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— I first included WoW on my 2015 games list, back when I first started playing. My verdict was essentially 'it's okay I guess, but it feels super dated all around and not very welcoming to players expecting a more modern game'. Well, obviously that hasn't changed - old content is still old content - BUT, with Legion, I feel like the newer content is at least taking steps in the right direction towards making the game feel less dated overall.

Legion was actually my fourth WoW subscription. Since my best friend has been playing for like 8 years and is really into the game, I get free subs thrown at me at least once a year, and I play for a few months until next time. My previous subscription ended just on the heels of Legion's release, and the changes to all the classes hit me pretty hard when suddenly my preferred Rogue spec (Combat) was altered so completely that I just did not want to play anymore. Everything I was used to was retooled, if not completely gone...and I was angry. But having an entire year to cool off and lose that muscle memory, I came into Legion with a fresh spec (Outlaw) and a new region to explore.

Legion content was definitely the most enjoyable to me so far. After making it through all the older content during leveling, my highest version during my first subscription (and review) was Pandaria, so I spent by far the most time playing in that zone. I liked the aesthetic, but the gameplay still felt dated, and I spent most of my time working on my farm or building rep with two factions who had mounts I wanted. Draenor wasn't TERRIBLE, though I had more fun building my garrison than I did questing the actual Draenor zones. Legion was the first time I felt like I actually had a LOT of different things to do, and had a real sense of character progression for the first time. I admit I know almost nothing about WoW lore (nor do I care to go down the rabbit hole of learning it), so there was a lot of ??? during the main Legion questline, but I still felt like I was being engaged in a real STORY for once. The cutscenes and voiced dialogue went a long way to making the game feel less old-fashioned, for one thing. For another, having the order of each zone be up to player's choice because of leveled enemies gave me some much-needed freedom during leveling, and not feeling like I either had to stick around in a lowbie zone with no EXP for the sake of following a storyline...or moving through the zones so fast that it wasn't even worth bothering to follow along with the stories because I'd only abandon them all halfway to move onto the next higher-level area. In Legion, I ended up doing basically every single quest in a zone before moving onto the next one (though I'd then do all the mandatory dungeons in one burst rather than one at a time). I actually read through the quest text instead of skipping along and just trying to hit 100 as soon as possible. And when I DID hit 100, halfway through Highmountain (having done Azsuna and Val'sharah already), I continued the Highmountain quest to the end and then did all of Stormheim.

Hitting level cap no longer felt like I'd met the 'goal' of the expansion, and had nothing really left to do but fuck around. After finishing all four main zones, there was Suramar, and the Broken Shore. There were world quests and the reputation tied to those. There were the class weapon quests, and the goal of gaining the class mount. There were even the falcosaur quests which I just barely managed to finish before my sub ran out!! Plus, having played September/October/November, I also had a lot of holiday events to work on (it was my first Brewfest, and then I went about finishing the Halloween and Thanksgiving achievements I didn't get last time I played in the fall). And in addition to all of THAT...I also got my Hunter through the rest of Draenor so he could do Legion content, too. I had wanted to make a Demon Hunter after that because it seems like the sort of class I'd enjoy playing, but I didn't end up having the time for that. Point being - for the first time, Legion gave me a whole lot of stuff to do, and I never really felt like I was 'done'. Every time I met one goal, there was another to work towards. That's the kind of experience I feel is really important in a game like this...but something I always sorta felt I was dragging myself through in past subscriptions, where I'd spend more time doing pet battles or trying to get transmog gear and mounts and basically anything but actually questing. This time, the questing and dungeoning didn't feel like a chore, or just a means to an end. The whole Legion experience managed to be enjoyable - and I never even wound up going to Argus.

By the time I play next, the newest expansion will be out, and I'll have even more to do. I hear there's gonna be new playable races this time, so maybe I'll even end up making another alt once I get my Rogue and possibly my Hunter through the expac content. Plus I can still make that Demon Hunter and go through Legion again. All in all I think WoW is finally breaking through my initial perceptions of it being a dated game, more fun for long-term players or hardcore raiders and not so much for newcomers who are more into PVE. What the new expac brings remains to be seen, but for once I'm optimistic that I'll end up having some fun with whatever that is.

—————————————— ARK: Survival Evolved (Steam) FINAL VERDICT: Recommended —————————————— Growing up, there were three things in particular that captivated my interest (and also conveniently my Lego sets): pirates, ancient Egypt, and dinosaurs. Assassin's Creed: Black Flag captivated the first. Assassin's Creed: Origins will no doubt captivate the second, once it drops in price enough that I can actually buy it. And since I somehow doubt that assassins existed in the prehistoric eras, picking up the third interest is ARK.

I'd been watching ARK with a close eye since the early access days, precisely because the very concept of taming and riding dinosaurs sounded rad as fuck. It made it from my 'following' list, to my wishlist, to my 'groans sadly' list during every Steam sale when it'd drop no lower than $18 which was still far more than I was willing to spend on an early access game whose reviews were always swinging wildly between positives and negatives - particularly in the optimization department, as I had doubts that my computer could even RUN the game comfortably in its then-current state. Finally a friend of mine (who had bought and refunded the game several times already, also I believe due to optimization issues) had started playing it comfortably and generously gifted it to me about a year ago, just a short time before it finally left early access and went for full standard retail price. As predicted, I could barely run the game...even on the lowest graphic settings, with no sky effects and on the low memory setting, I was getting about 15 FPS just trying to walk around on the initial beach where I'd spawned. I sadly had to shelf the game and hope that I'd be able to play it someday in the future, when it was either optimized better or I'd upgraded to better hardware.

Now, both of those things have happened, so I decided to give it another go. Now that I can run it at an average 50 FPS on a mix of medium to high graphics settings and have actually been able to PLAY the game, it's the early days of Minecraft all over again, and I can't stop. I've been playing both singleplayer and multiplayer with a friend on an unofficial PVP server, and each game is sort of its own experience. The PVP server has everything set to 10x, so gathering resources and EXP all goes REALLY fast. I'm already like level 70 after only playing two days of multiplayer, and we've gone from a somewhat crude houseboat base to a slightly less crude base in the mountains with a decent crop of early to midgame dinos (we had more, but some died to alpha raptor injuries with others being on the wrong end of a tame and otherwise non-hostile T-Rex and its fertilized egg). Meanwhile in singleplayer, which I've actually spent more time in (only doing multi when my friend is available), I just hit level 30 and am only now starting to feel confident enough to venture away from my crude campsite on the beach where you first spawn...and have faced more than a few setbacks already. I did turn my dinosaur tame settings up to 10x (because waiting several REAL WORLD HOURS to tame critters is like, unreasonable) but otherwise I'm running just standard growth rates for everything, plus going solo...so it's a much slower experience overall. I want to keep my singleplayer experience a bit slow and steady, with more of the intended 'harsh survival' feel to help me better grasp the basics of the game before getting too adventurous playing on servers without the help of my friend, but once I feel that I've got a good handle on the game and its dangers I will definitely branch out more.

Between PVP, PVE and mod-based servers, not to mention the other official DLC maps, ARK is a game with a LOT to do. If I ever actually manage to conquer The Island, there's still a ton of content left waiting for me, giving the game a long life with lots of replay value. The only thing is that I tend to get burned out on games that have SO much to do and little in the way of like, actual endgame goals, so I'm sure I'll hit that at some point - but for now, I'm just having a blast enjoying the ride.

—————————————— Fire Emblem Heroes (Mobile) FINAL VERDICT: S'Alright —————————————— I don't normally include mobile games on these...well, probably in no small part because I don't normally PLAY mobile games. But, being a fan of the main Fire Emblem games, I decided to check out Heroes back when it first launched earlier this year. And it kept my interest for several months, which is impressive considering, again, I'm not really that into mobile games. I was impressed by how much it captured the same basic feeling of a Fire Emblem game despite being distilled down into a simplistic bite-sized mobile system - incredibly easy to just pop on and kill some time, but also enough to provide a challenge for those who want it. The 'story' was never really anything more than an excuse plot, but it's not as though I would have expected much more for a game like this in the first place so I don't really dock any points for that. All in all it's very good at being what it set out to be - a simple implementation of Fire Emblem as a mobile gatcha game.

Before long, however, it got very stale. For quite a while, new characters were introduced few and far between. It felt like 90% of the roster either came from Awakening or Fates (at the time the most recent games in the franchise), with almost everyone else from the Marth games. Games like Path of Radiance and Sacred Stones had next to no representation. As someone who has yet to play Fates, having that HUGE pool of characters from both games making up most of the heroes felt alienating from the start. Naturally, in a game like this, you most look forward to getting your favorite units...so for me, that part of the appeal was already lost, since most of my favorites weren't even IN the game. By the time they started adding in more variety my interest in the game was already waning, because it just felt like there wasn't much to DO. Once you've cleared all the story maps, it's basically just grinding your units up in the training tower, doing the arena 3 times a day (unless you build up a small fortune of dueling swords over time from the daily login rewards, which I did), and waiting around for a decent challenge map Tempest trials didn't even exist at that point. Of course, there was always quests, which for a long time I did try to complete as many as possible of before the month was up - the problem is how incredibly unfair so, SO many of the quests are. Almost every one with a worthwhile reward requires all 4 units to survive, which is fine...good rewards should be earned through challenge. But when you add to that '...and you have to use all red units' or 'a team of fliers' or something extremely specific like that, and the map is specifically designed to pit you against a bunch of blue units or archers...asking all four units to survive ON TOP OF THAT is just outrageously unfair. There's a big difference between the sort of strategic challenge of a regular Fire Emblem game and the kind of 'fake difficulty' imposed by these quests, and it got to where they just plain weren't fun anymore.

Without wanting to do quests, things got boring quickly. Sure, they introduced skill inheritence, adding a new layer of customization...but not only does that sort of micro-managing not appeal to me personally, but having to go up against ridiculously overpowered units in the arena and losing constantly made THAT not fun anymore either. No longer was it just about what units you got lucky enough to pull in a summon and took the time to raise to 5 star max level, but ALSO about what units you were lucky enough to pull and feed to your 5 star max level units to create the most broken and unbeatable character builds. That was around the point where I stopped logging in every day, only playing sporadically...and then, eventually, almost never at all.

I know by now they've introduced even more changes. Suddenly there's been a huge surge of new characters from the new and upcoming games, and then I log in and see that winning in the arena now nets you coins and other items that I have no idea what they're used for, or how I see some kind of element marker next to my name that I also don't understand. There's new story mode quests now, it seems, but for me it's all just too little too late. The initial months of the game were very stagnant compared to now, and it wasn't enough to keep my interest. By now, my lofty arena rank has fallen due to inactivity, and my once massive stockpile of orbs has dropped down to less than 10 because the most I might do is hop on and run one of the new summoning events in hopes of getting a character I actually care about, but end up walking away with 5 3-star Ests yet again.

I'm a Fire Emblem fan, but not a mobile gatcha game fan. It's hard to really say whether I'm FEH's target audience or not. All I know is that I had some fun for a while, but that time's now passed.

—————————————— Dragonball Z: Dokkan Battle (Mobile) FINAL VERDICT: Bretty Gud —————————————— After the above review, it may be surprising that I ended up giving another mechanically similar mobile gatcha game a try. It's no secret to most who know me personally that I have a very love/hate relationship with Dragonball. It was my adolescent obsession and the reason I even got into this crazy anime world in the first place, and will always hold a special place in my heart...but I also despise literally everything the franchise has become, and Super just plain does not exist in my world. So why would I play a game that basically exists to promote the Dragonball of today, full of Super characters and weird SSJ3 fusions and all kinds of other stuff that I hate? Peer pressure, mostly.

That aside, I've only been playing for a few weeks now (I think my consecutive logins are in the 20s, and I've logged in every day since I began), but I'm enjoying it so far. There are a lot of systems that are naturally very similar to FEH given they're both the same genre of mobile game, but in most cases I feel that Dokkan implements them better. For instance, duplicate units. In FEH, all those 3-star Ests are useless. 3-stars are almost never worthwhile for skill inheritence, and the effort it would take to rank them up is simply not worth it when you could invest your feathers in 4-star characters. In Dokkan, however, I can use those duplicates to increase the special attack of the original, or to unlock paths in their hidden potential. Plus, ranking up weak units is a lot easier. A 3-star Est may not be worth investing the time into raising, but an R or SR Dokkan unit can be trained with very easy-to-acquire training items and awakened to a higher level - and oftentimes awakened even further if they're given a Dokkan mode. In the event that you pull characters that truly are useless, you can at least cash them in for some trade points that can be used to buy rare items or characters in Baba's Shop, or just sell them for Zeni, which will get you more use than the small pittance of feathers you'd get for releasing duplicates in FEH.

Of course, aside from sharing those gatcha game staples, they're two totally different games and it's probably not entirely fair to compare them...but since I have played both and have no experience with other gatcha games, naturally I'm going to compare my experiences. Gameplay-wise, Dokkan seems at first like a pretty simple 'tap to match the colored line' game, which is a far cry from even the simplified Fire Emblem strategy battles in FEH. The complexity of Dokkan comes less from the orb tapping itself and more from the other aspects of team building. Using units with good skills, and who share links to power each other up, is often just as important as getting your purple character to get a long chain of purple orbs. Gathering medals from maps and using them to train and awaken your characters, and unlocking their hidden potential, are all more important in the long run than tapping the pretty colored lights. Basically, the actual 'battle' of Dokkan Battle is the least important part...though they can still require some strategy in the more difficult missions (where just having your purple unit grab a lot of green orbs isn't going to be 'good enough'), and you can still feel satisfied if you manage to pull off a really long chain and activate a super attack at just the right moment.

As I said, it hasn't been long. I may very well get bored of Dokkan in a few months just like FEH before it. But for now, I'm having fun, and I think a lot of the gameplay is more fair and balanced than the often-frustrating FEH. I will probably continue playing at least a little bit each day for some time yet.

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