#feeling sick and insane about the lawyer show today

[somebodylovesyougcv]

going to go crazy. better call saul transformed throwaway lines from breaking bad into two fully formed and fleshed out characters that haunt jimmy/saul’s narrative throughout the entire run of both shows. it wasn’t me, it was ignacio! it was nacho varga, first a willing participant in the salamanca game and then a victim and a pawn in gus fring’s revenge plot against them. who was forced to bring an end to lalo salamanca’s life but enjoyed it nonetheless. lalo, lalo didn’t send you? lalo salamanca, brought into jimmy/saul’s world by ignacio, who struck fear into jimmy and sent him on a days long trek through the desert. who knew the name of jimmy’s wife. who seemingly arose back from the dead and appeared in his doorway, shooting howard hamlin and permanently changing the course of jimmy’s life. one of the dominoes that fell to create saul goodman. ignacio and lalo, who lived in saul’s brain always, that when he was kneeling over an open grave in the desert, those were the only two names he could utter desperately. throwaway lines in breaking bad to necessary and transformative characters in better call saul. goodbye world

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 11 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (10)

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Nightmares and Promises

Your mind is a blur, as is the street ahead. The engine complains as you force the damn car to go faster and faster. You get the feeling that Billy never lived as far as he lives today. You're suffocating, the noises you heard through the phone playing back in your mind. Max's voice, weak and scared. Billy's screams, the curse words from Neil... What can you do? What could you possibly do to help?

“Damn it.” You hiss when you make a sharp turn left, hitting a mailbox. “C'mon.”

Every time Billy tells you about his father, about the rude words, the beating, the humiliation, you see the little boy in his eyes. Scared, sad, trapped inside a house where he was forced to live a nightmare. You see yourself too, despite being hit by your mother only once. You know how he felt, but it was much, much worse. And now, after he finally grew out of it, living his life, completely apart from such memories, his father comes back.

You know what you'll do. You'll beat the shit out of Neil, drag him out and tell him not to come back.

Your knuckles turn white on the steering wheel, and your heart beats like a drum in your years. When you finally reach his street, you push the car to the very limit, hitting the breaks when you're by his place. You forgot to put the seat belt on, and judging by how madly you were driving, it's a miracle you're still alive.

The moment you step out of the car, you hear it. The yells. Max is by the window, and her eyes go wide when she sees you. You're moving to the front door with your whole body burning with anger. When you grab the handle, you take the deepest breath you can before swinging the door open. The noise it makes hitting the wall brings a sudden silence, but on the moment you step in, an old man comes from the kitchen, followed by Billy. Max immediately comes to your side, and you can see that her face is covered in tears.

“Who the hell are you?” The man asks as Billy walks around him, hiding you behind his back.

“Leave her out of it,” Billy says, and you notice his muscles are all tense. “And get the hell out of my house.”

“Your house? You mean the house Susan gave you?” He roughly gestures around. “She pities you, Billy. She only allows you to live here because of Max. Or do you think she or anyone would move a finger for you? You're a disgrace, a boy who thinks he's a man who will never leave this screwed uptown, and you know why?” The man steps closer, face to face with Billy. “Because you're nothing. You have always been nothing, and you will always be.”

Neil's yells are deafening, and you can feel your heart breaking. He's wrong. He's so damn wrong. “Stop talking like you know him!” It's your time to yell, pushing Max further back and stepping aside to have a look at Neil's face. “Billy is ten times the man you'll ever be! And despite your attempts to break him, to destroy and drag him down to this dirty, filthy pit you live in, he's still here! He's still here and he overcame you and your shit.”

“Another of your sluts, Billy? Why am I not surprised?” Neil barks, a wicked smile on his lips. “You're just another plaything, don't you act like you're not.”

“Don't talk to her like that.” The tension suddenly explodes, and Billy moves forward, hitting a hard punch in Neil's face.

You're frozen again, noticing through the corner of your eyes that Max ran off to her room. Maybe you should follow her, search for a safe place from this chaos. Like you used to. When it got too much to handle, you used to lock yourself in your bedroom, both hands covering your ears, trying to block the shoutings that came through the door. And you're just about to move when you get a glimpse of Billy's face. The whole fight happening in front of you is too fast to follow. But in his eyes, as he hits his father and gets hit back, you see it. Fear. Desperation. Anger. Hate. A mix of countless feelings, some of them too deep to name.

You know you can't run. You won't run. You know you have to do something, anything.

And suddenly, Billy falls to the ground, his hand immediately coming to his face. Niel stands tall, feeling victorious. “You son of a bitch!” You burst out, not quite in control of your body anymore. You just move, blindly, towards Neil, aiming a punch on his already bleeding nose. But in a movement you can't follow, you see it coming, too fast for your mind to process, and he hits you hard with the back of his hand.

You're violently pushed to the side, like hit by a brick, your body collapsing to the floor and hitting the coffee table hard. Your head spins around and you feel tears involuntary rolling down from the pain. Your left cheek burns like it was set on fire, and a sting spreads through your skull. Your side hurts too, from where it connected to the table. When you look up, back at Neil, Billy isn't on the ground anymore.

“Don't you ever–” He hits Neil like a plane, pushing him so hard the hits the wall with a deafening sound.“–touch her.” A kick in his stomach, making his body jerk forward. “Don't you–”

He's cut short when Neil grabs his throat. “Let go of him!” You say, but you can't hear your voice. Neil changes side with Billy, pinning him against the wall.

“You never learn, do you, kid?” Neil mutters, his voice dark and wicked.

You have to do something. Anything. You're moving to get up when you see Max, in the hall, eyes fixed on Neil and her brother. She's holding a baseball bat so tightly that her hands are shaking.

That's it. In an adrenaline jolt, you jump to your feet, running over to Max, and taking the bat from her hands. “Go back to your room, Max,” you say, suddenly feeling overprotected of her. You see yourself in her right now, and you're doing for her what Diane did for you. Fixing the problem so she can have a happy, normal life away from evil people.

No time to think, no time to make a strategy. You just do what you want to. You want to hurt Neil, for everything you've heard about and for this. So you raise the bat and bring it down with all your strength, straight to his legs. It makes him lose his grip immediately, letting go of Billy and falling down with a guttural groan. But that wasn't enough, so you raise the bat again, bringing it down, over and over, aiming for his legs. The tears are clouding your sight, so you blink to push them away. The sounds the bat makes when it goes Neil makes you sick, but you don't care. He deserves it. You only stop when Billy gets on his knees, leaning over his father as he starts hitting him, over and over and over, turning Neil's face into a bloody mess.

“If you ever–” A hard, heavy punch. “–come back again–” Another one, right on his eye. “–I swear to God I'll kill you.”

“My whole family is made of lawyers so if you ever set foot in Hawkins again I'll get you a restraining of so many miles that you won't be able to come to Indiana again,” you yell, hitting him with the bat once more, right on his ribs, careful this time not to hit Billy.

He then stands up, grabbing his father by the collar of his shirt and dragging him towards the door, then across the porch, and through the sidewalk. You follow him, watching as Neil can't do anything but awkwardly crawl backwards. “Get the hell away.” Billy lets him fall, and you stand back a couple of feet, still holding the bat. Your eyes follow Neil's every move as he stumbles up, then into his car, trying and failing to clean the blood off his face with his hands. You're sure his nose is broken, it's turned into a weird shape, as probably is his leg. He doesn't look back when he speeds away, his car disappearing downstreet.

You don't know what the silence means. You see some neighbors peeking through the windows, eager to see what happened, but never to help. You need to take Billy away from their sight.

Carefully, you walk over him, his eyes fixed on where Neil's car went as if making sure he won't come back. “Billy,” you call, as softly as you can, letting the bat fall and touching his arm. “Come inside.”

When he looks down at you, it breaks your heart. The blood on his nose and lower lip is mixed with tears. Bitter, countless tears. “I hate him. I hate that son of a bitch.” He mumbles, his voice still heavy with anger.

“He's gone, Billy. He won't come back.” You wish you could promise that, but you're too scared. Your heartbeat is still insanely fast, and you feel a little numb as if it was just a terrible nightmare.

His eyes go wide suddenly, and his hand comes to your cheek. “You're bleeding.”

“Babe, listen.” You take his hand, placing a soft kiss on his fingers. “I'm alright. It's over now, come inside.”

“I'll kill him.” He starts moving towards his car, but you move faster, both hands on his chest, trying to make him stop.

“Billy, don't.”

“I'll kill him!” He shouts, making you jump.

“Billy, kiss me!” You raise your voice to match his. He stops abruptly, his eyes meeting yours. “You said you wouldn't kiss me until I asked for it. I'm asking now. Please, kiss me.” It's the only thing you could think about that would startle him enough to make him stop. But you want to kiss him, so bad, to hug and hold him until he's well again. Until Neil is nothing but a long gone memory. “Please, babe.”

Then it happens. Billy pulls you close, his arms around your waist as you tiptoe and let your lips finally meet his. And it's like everything fades away. It tastes like blood in the beginning, but as your lips start dancing together, at the same pace, the same need, his taste overcomes anything else. You wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer until there's no space between you. He holds on to you as if you're the only thing keeping him grounded, and it's a weird feeling to know that's probably true. But you can do this. You want to do this. If Billy wants you, you will be there for him, no matter what. You'll face his father a thousand times over. You'll overcome, together.

You break apart when it gets impossible to hold your breaths, but he doesn't let go. “Come inside, please,” you whisper, relieved when he nods.

You silently walk back in, and you close and lock the door. The living room is a mess and so is the kitchen. “I'll clean this.” He mumbles.

“No. We'll clean tomorrow. Come.” Taking his hand, you pull him to his bedroom, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Max stands by the door, tears still staining her face.

“Max, get me a damp towel,” you ask her and goes to Billy's bathroom.

“No, let me take care of you.”

“Billy–”

“(Y/N), please. It's enough that you got hurt because of me.”

“Don't you dare blame yourself, Billy.” You hold his hand, eyes locked on his blue ones. “I would face a hundred Neils for you. And I know you'd the same for me so don't do this. Don't blame yourself. I stepped in because I wanted to.” Max comes back with the towel and hands it over to you.

“Are you hurt, Max?” Billy asks, taking the towel from your hands. Max shakes her head no but doesn't move.

“Come here.” You open your arms and Max immediately comes, sitting beside you as you hug her. She hides her face on your neck, and you rub her back. “I'm sorry you had to see that, Max. I know how you feel.” You glance at Billy, a sad, devastated expression on his face. He treated Max like trash for many years, he told you, but now you see that he loves her as a sister. It warms your heart. “Honey, do you want to sleep here with Billy and I?” You decide to ask when she sobs.

“No, I'm ok.” She clears her throat and pulls away. “Are you going to sleep here?”

“Yes,” you assure her.

Max smiles a little and nods. “Thanks. I'll give you two some space.”

“If you feel bad, or anything, please come here, ok?” You smile when she nods, leaving the bedroom.

Then you turn to face Billy again, but his eyes are already on you. He brings the white towel to your cheek, and you flinch a little under his touch. “Sorry.” He mumbles. “Neil had a ring. It scratched your skin.”

“I know.” You simply say, frozen, unable to look away.

“There will be a bruise by tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I...” Everything slows down for a moment, and you wonder if you heard it right. The word you've been keeping a secret, the one you've been so scared to say. “What?” You whisper, your heartbeat drumming in your chest again. “A-are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.” He moves closer until his forehead is touching yours. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, I... I've been in love with you for a while, but I was scared to tell you.” Wrapping your arms around his neck you move to sit on his lap.

“Don't be."

You kiss him, slowly because of the wound on his lower lip. How could you wait so long to do this? You have no idea how the hell you managed to control yourself. The feeling of his soft lips are your favorite thing in the world, addictive, and you get a little mad that you have to break apart to breathe. “Be my girlfriend.” He says in a low voice.

“Yes.” You burst out with a giggle and a smile.

“Finally.” He says.

“Hey... (Y/N)? Your aunt is on the phone.” Max mumbles from the door frame.

“I'll be right back,” you tell Billy before standing up.

It takes a few minutes to explain to Diane what happened. She was pretty worried about how altered you were when you left. You apologize for scaring her, letting her know you're fine and that you'll stay here for the night.

Billy already washed the blood off his face when you're back in his room, lying on the bed. Smiling, you walk over him. “I'll make a question, but if you make fun of me, I'll give up the idea,” you say, trying to lighten up the mood a little.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Big spoon or little spoon?”

His lips break into a bright smile. “Big spoon, obviously.”

Rolling your eyes, you lay down, facing away from him. It takes half a second for Billy to move closer, an arm around your waist pulling you into his chest. It feels like heaven, to feel his breath on your neck. You lay your arm on top of his, holding his hand. Life is good now, here, in this small town. And you don't want this to end. You want it to be like this every day. “Billy... What are we going to do when summer is over?”

“Mmm...” He mumbles, tightening his grip a little. “Isn't it obvious? We'll wake up early on Mondays, drive to Indianapolis and spend the week there. Then drive here on Fridays.”

That was your plan, and you remember telling him a while ago. “It sounds like a rough routine,” you warn him.

“Why don't you... Why don't you come to live here?”

That makes you turn a little, just enough to look into his eyes. You know what it means, moving in with him. “Billy, I don't–”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He cuts you off. “I'm saying this because it makes sense. And it feels right.” He gives you a quick peck in the lips. “But I'll wait for you. It doesn't matter how long.”

“What if... What if I want to wait until the wedding night.” You speak low, afraid that the mention of it will frustrate him. Maybe you're stiff, but you don't have to change your point of view in things just because the rest of the world has.

“Then be it. As long as I have you by my side, I'm the happiest man alive.” Biting your lip to hold back a smile, you try to turn around to face him. “No, no.” He holds you, forcing you back into position. “Stay still, little spoon.”

“It was my idea,” you whine, but move back to where you were. “So... You want me to come and live here?”

“Yes. The house is mine, thanks to Susan, and since you're planning to live in Hawkins... It makes sense. Diane wouldn't have to keep driving to Indianapolis every day, and you'd save the money for the rent.”

“You mean moving here now? I thought it was supposed to be when summer ended.”

“I know, but I'd love to have you here all the time.”

“This is a big step, Billy. And I don't want you to get tired of me.” You can't help but give voice to your thoughts.

“I just said I love you, and I'm pretty sure you got that I implied I want to marry you one day so I can't believe you're saying I'll get tired of you.” He speaks fast, faking an annoyed tone.

“Oh my God, Billy. Fine. I'll come live with you. Are you happy now?” Your cheeks are burning at what he just said, and you're thankful that you're facing away. “But you'll have to come and tell Diane. And help me carry my stuff here.” Did you just say that? Did you just agree to move in with Billy? “You know this is crazy, right? We're dating for half an hour and I just agreed to move in with you.”

“I've been wanting to date you since the Monday when I first saw you.” He whispers on your ear.

“Well, you got me when you punched David. Then when you kissed me by the front door.” You knew something was off from that day on, but of course, you would never admit it back then.

“I knew it. You got all nervous and as red as a tomato.”

“It was dark, Billy. How could you possibly know I was red?” You let out a humorless laugh.

“Well, you did try to open the door several times before noticing it was locked.” He lowers his voice, pulling your hair away so your ear and neck as exposed. “Weren't you? All nervous because of me?”

“Stop it!” You lightly elbow him in the ribs. “Let's get some sleep. We'll talk to Diane tomorrow before going to work.”

“As you wish, princess. I guess I can call you princess now, right?”

“Uhum,” you mumble, thankful that he can't see the smile coming to your lips.

×

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @tilesandtokens @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @dontxfearxthereaper @halloweenbitch2764 @redlovett

[akechicrimes]

Prompt 37? Futaba and Akechi platonic/Futago siblings?

37. “Follow me. It’s okay, just hold my hand.”

after akira leaves tokyo, futaba does just fine without her key item, except for when she doesnt.

(one of them AUs were goro survives the engine room and rejoins the phantom thieves. no i will not explain. persona 5 canon AND persona 5 royal do not interact. for reference in this universe futaba and akechi are half siblings but only akechi knows that)

*

“Next time you see me, I’ll be a whole new person,” Futaba tells Akira excitedly on his second-to-last day in Tokyo. “I’m going back to school, I’m out and about by myself—oh! Oh! Did I tell you I said yes to Kosei? I told Kosei I wanted to go to Shujin and they offered me scholarship! And I went to the subway station by myself yesterday!”

They’re crammed into Akira’s Leblanc attic, sitting around a cake that literally none of them were capable of baking themselves, so they’d bought the thing from a bakery and decorated it with little black and red hearts. Ryuji is passing around his gross soda, while Ann is recounting some story that doesn’t matter with incredible enthusiasm. Makoto looks like she’s determined to enjoy herself and will hear no argument.

The whole thing is incredibly morbid, if you ask Futaba. It feels less like they’re waiting for Akira to leave Tokyo and more like they’re attending Akira’s funeral. Akechi in particular looks like he’s regretting attending, which honestly tickles Futaba more than it should, that the most dishonest Phantom Thief seems to be the only one looking as honestly put-off by the entire affair as everyone else is determined not to be.

That’s everyone else’s problem. Futaba might not be happy Akira has to leave, but she’s proud. She’s sad that Akira has to leave, but also she promised Akira that by the time that he had to leave, she’d be able to get around on her own, without clinging to him for support. And she is able. She kept her promise.

Tomorrow might be the day that Akira has to go, but today is the day that Futaba is Officially Recovered.

Akira does that annoying thing he does where he puts his hand on her head and messes up all her hair, like he’s a human cat showing affection by pissing everyone off. Futaba yelps. “Look at you. You don’t need me at all.”

“I told you that I’d be ready to say goodbye by the time you had to go back to your hometown,” says Futaba. “I haven’t broken my promises yet, have I?”

There’s a burst of laughter from Haru over something Yusuke said, who looks rather surprised to discover that he said anything funny. Both Makoto and Akechi snicker at him, and then stop immediately to glare at each other the second they realize they’ve accidentally wound up sharing an opinion.

Akira ignores them. “Well, you can still text me if you need me. Or call.”

“I’m trying to tell you I’m getting better and I don’t need you,” Futaba grumbles. “Also, what kind of psychopath do you think I am to call someone on the phone?”

“That’s what phones are for.”

“Calling people is scary.”

“I thought you were getting better?” Akira teases.

“I am!” she says, pointing a finger at him. “I am! Just you watch, Akira. I’m getting better every day.”

*

Six months after joining Kosei, Futaba locks herself in her room and does not reemerge for seven days straight.

*

She tells Sojiro that she’s sick. Sojiro tells the school that Futaba told him that she’s sick. She definitely fakes a hell of a good cough, and the school lets Yusuke send her her all the homework that she was supposed to be doing in the first place, but Futaba already knows it’s only a matter of time before Sojiro rats on her, and she won’t even blame him because it’ll be for her own good.

In the meantime, she has stashes of crackers and peanut butter from back when she was a full-time hermit. She hates the taste of peanut butter within three days. Her bed is a relief, soft like a home she never left, up until it isn’t anymore. It’s too soft. No matter how she lies on it, no matter how soft it is, a mattress just isn’t comfortable when you’ve been lying on it for seventy-four hours. It’s hot. Smothering. She feels like she’s going to drown in the blankets and they’ll have to fish her moldy, sweaty corpse out of the bottomless quicksand pit of her too-soft mattress.

The thing about being a shut-in is that you don’t actually like your room very much. It’s not a relief, or an oasis, or even a place you enjoy. You’re just terrified of everywhere else more.

She plays a lot of video games that she doesn’t even like. She watches a lot of Twitch streamers she doesn’t even like. She doesn’t do her homework. She ignores Sojiro. She pretends she’s alright to everyone who texts. She wakes up and goes to sleep and thinks about going outside and goes to sleep and wakes up and wonders if the whole last year and her cautious baby steps back into the world outside was all just a hazy dream.

*

There aren’t a lot of Thieves left in Tokyo, weirdly. Haru and Makoto both graduated, off doing business and law junk that honestly makes Futaba’s brains want to crawl out her ears, but all the numbers check out and Haru’s not in the red yet, and Futaba’s looked at enough people’s dirty laundry to appreciate Haru’s clean ledger. Akira’s back in his dinky hicktown, where there’s barely anything electronic connected to Wifi worth breaking into for surveillance, which is really boring.

Ann’s been doing so many modeling gigs that she might as well not be attending Shujin anymore. She’s practically surrounded by electronics, and all of them are connected to the internet. On any given day, Futaba can snoop through the internet trail of electronic file cabinets full of images of her face, emails about her face, paychecks for her face. Futaba sends Ann more than one email about creepy old dudes making gross comments about her, along with a bunch of other illegal shit they’ve done, plus their offshore accounts full of cash if Ann wants Futaba to sic a lawyer on them.

Ann looks like she’s having fun. Ann looks different on the other side of the computer screen, like she’s less real. Like she’s not someone Futaba really knows. Like Ann’s not someone Futaba’s literally cried on at one point in her life.

Ryuji is definitely attending Shujin, but between physical therapy, catching up on a whole year of track, athletic scholarship hunting, and studying for college admissions tests, Ryuji seems to have been swallowed whole by Shujin, really. Out of boredom, one day, Futaba went down that rabbit hole of researching what it takes to get recruited for track in college, and holy shit–apparently Ryuji’s coach was supposed to be helping him with that whole process, but of course Ryuji barely has a proper coach ever since Kamoshida left Shujin’s track program in pieces. The amount of networking he’s doing is insane, especially for one teenaged boy who barely remembers his homework every night.

Sometimes, when Ryuji’s forgotten to check his email in a while and there’s a message from a coach sitting in his inbox, Futaba will send him a text to make him check it. And then it’s all, What were you doing looking at my emails, Futaba and Which of my other passwords do you know, Futaba, as if Ryuji doesn’t just use the same password over and over and has literally nobody but himself to blame.

So it’s really just Futaba, Yusuke, and–weirdly–Akechi, who’s off doing his gap year and said he was going to go abroad, but then he never did. Not to be a huge snoop, but Futaba went digging through his junk for about five seconds and then she never did it again, because she felt really weird about finding out that the guy that killed her mom is looking into social work, volunteerism, and reforming the justice system.

Like. The man who killed the Thieves’ leader is now literally out there saving orphans. It’s wild.

She might’ve been the one to tell Akechi that he can start over again and do better, but she reserves the right to at least feel weird about it.

She does not call Akira. She talks to Yusuke at school, but she refuses to ask him to accompany her on the subway. She should be recovered by now, shouldn’t she? She was supposed to have gotten over all that when Akira left Tokyo. She’s doing fine. She’s just looking out for her friends. Her, living vicariously through her friends, who’re growing up and growing away, flourishing into young adults? Never.

*

Everything is the same.

*

Didn’t she help kill a god last year?

Didn’t she work so hard to get out of her room, to make friends, to reconnect with Kana-chan?

Didn’t she work so hard to change herself?

Didn’t she help change the world?

*

Everything is the same.

*

Tuesday, 1:43 PM

YUSUKE: Futaba?

FUTABA: yo inari

FUTABA: u got more homework for me or what

YUSUKE: Ah, no.

YUSUKE: I think your teacher finds it suspicious that I’m sending you homework when I’m not in your grade, as it is.

FUTABA: oh no

FUTABA: what a shame that we didn’t have an entire year of experience with getting away with wildly illegal magic brain crimes without raising any suspicion

FUTABA: truly emailing me like four pieces of paper a day is far too difficult

YUSUKE: Well, I can’t get your homework from your teacher, but I can give you more homework if you’d like.

FUTABA: ok bucko that wasn’t a challenge

YUSUKE: There’s a math problem set that’s been incredibly dull to get through when I have more important pieces I could be working on…

FUTABA: inari im sorry to say but

FUTABA: me literally doing your homework for you is about a thousand times more illegal than you giving me my homework when ur not in my grade

YUSUKE: Oh, is it?

FUTABA: wh

FUTABA: are y

FUTABA: what do you mean OH IS IT

FUTABA: did you not KNOW ur not allowed to have other ppl do ur hw????

FUTABA: inari have u been making other people do ur hw for u so u can have more time to do art?????????

FUTABA: no shut up i dont want to know

FUTABA: i will not be ur accomplice

FUTABA: i see ur little speech bubble thingamajig yusuke i said stop typing forever and ever

YUSUKE: I can’t invite you to the art gallery tomorrow if I can’t type.

YUSUKE: It also seems impractical for you to outlaw me from texting forever.

FUTABA: i literally did not say that

YUSUKE: You said, and I quote,

YUSUKE: “Yusuke, I said stop typing forever and ever.”

FUTABA: ok i know it looks like i said that but please im begging u it’s literally just an exaggeration

YUSUKE: As Makoto would say, it’s hardly an enforceable law.

FUTABA: u literally texted my sick and crusty ass just to give me a hard time

YUSUKE: Are you about recovered from your cold?

FUTABA: and now u have the nerve to ask me to go to ur art show thing

YUSUKE: I didn’t say that.

FUTABA: oh really

FUTABA: what were u gonna ask me about then

YUSUKE: The art show, naturally.

YUSUKE: But you could have done me the courtesy of letting me ask.

FUTABA: all that on the day of my daughter’s wedding and now u want me to do u a solid

FUTABA: well i have news for u

FUTABA: the answer

FUTABA: is yeah

FUTABA: sure why not

YUSUKE: Oh, excellent.

YUSUKE: I thought that you might decline on account of your illness.

FUTABA: i’m not a punk bitch

FUTABA: i’m going

FUTABA: u were only working all those paintings for like two months i wanna see their oily faces in person

YUSUKE: Just because they were made with oil paints does not mean that they are oily.

FUTABA: cant wait to see my oily boys

YUSUKE: Unfortunately, I have to set up the event beforehand, so I will not be able to accompany you on the way here.

YUSUKE: Will you be alright by yourself?

FUTABA: uh

FUTABA: hmm

FUTABA: how oily are these boys in case i need to call a rain check

YUSUKE: Hmm.

YUSUKE: Perhaps someone else can go with you.

YUSUKE: Let me see if I can find someone.

FUTABA: what like one of ur art friends

FUTABA: i’m not going with anyone i dont know sry

YUSUKE: I’ll keep it in mind.

Tuesday, 1:59 PM

YUSUKE: Unfortunately, Ann and Ryuji were not available. Both of them will be coming late to the art show.

YUSUKE: Fortunately, Goro is.

FUTABA: whomst

YUSUKE: Goro Akechi?

YUSUKE: Crow, in case you know multiple Goro Akechis.

FUTABA: no like why u callin him goro

YUSUKE: I asked him if I could and he said yes.

YUSUKE: There’s not many people left in Tokyo who were part of the Thieves.

YUSUKE: I’m not exactly popular at school myself, so I thought it prudent to hold onto the connections I already had.

FUTABA: hhhhhhhhhhhhh

FUTABA: but why him……………………………………….

YUSUKE: Has he done something wrong?

YUSUKE: Well.

YUSUKE: Besides the obvious.

YUSUKE: Last I heard, you were quite vocally supportive of Goro making a change for the better,but have you prehaps reconsidered?

FUTABA: i mean he’s always been nice to me

FUTABA: like even before he was on the team as crow

FUTABA: and then later after he like lost his shit and tried to kill us

FUTABA: he was also like weirdly nice

FUTABA: even if he was dressed as a tokusatsu villain

FUTABA: but

FUTABA: i

FUTABA: ok this is gonna sound really weird but like

FUTABA: you know how i said that the person to take me to the art show has to be someone that i know

YUSUKE: Yes.

FUTABA: even though akechi was one of the thieves at the end

FUTABA: i feel like i dont really know him

FUTABA: he like had that whole breakdown where he spilled all his kylo ren sadstuck junk and then he peeled his dumb ass up off the floor and then we beat up his dad in a dark alley

FUTABA: and then i guess akira likes him a bunch and hangs out with him and i guess probably talked to him about all that stuff that happened

FUTABA: and also i think ann talks to him

FUTABA: and also haru i think for some reason……………………..

FUTABA: but like i feel like. we as a group. never really uhhhhhhh

FUTABA: got to know him very well i guess

FUTABA: because he spent like the whole year being a fake ass bitch

FUTABA: and then by the time he wasnt, the thieves were busy literally fighting god, and it was all business business business

FUTABA: ughghfhg i guess this is just a really long way of saying that like yeah ok i guess i do know him but i dont think i really do

FUTABA: even when he was off the shits in the engine room it was like

FUTABA: somehow that was not……………………………….. really him

FUTABA: idk maybe this is just my Thoughts but like

FUTABA: idk some people are like “your true self is who you are at your worst” and

FUTABA: yeah maybe you are some PART of urself when youre at your worst but like

FUTABA: also not???

FUTABA: that can’t be it

FUTABA: that’s not ALL of you

FUTABA: so all i ever saw was him when he was being a fake ass barbie prince and then when he was like actively losing his shit

FUTABA: and both of those were like. two types of fake ass barbie prince

FUTABA: except obviously the one where he started screamin about murder and trying to kill joker was like, fake ass serial killer barbie prince

FUTABA: anyway i dont buy it for a second that seeing akechi at his worst means that i know the first thing about his “”“”“”“”“true self”“”“”“”“”“”“

FUTABA: like i know that i technically met him but also at the same time i dont think ive ever really actually met this dude

FUTABA: uh tldr what’s the truth crowboy

FUTABA: second tldr do you got anyone else i can go to the art show with because im not unpackin all that junk in the trunk while also trying to fend off a panic attack in the subway

YUSUKE: Well, to speak to "what’s the truth, crowboy,” I’d say he’s actually really funny.

FUTABA: WHAT

YUSUKE: Yes, actually.

FUTABA: YOU TRYNA TELL ME YOU SHARE A SENSE OF HUMOR W AKECHI

YUSUKE: As everyone knows, I don’t have a sense of humor.

YUSUKE: But if I did, that might not be inaccurate to say.

YUSUKE: Either way, we could ask Boss if he’ll take you to school.

FUTABA: no

FUTABA: im not makin him shut down leblanc for the day just cause i cant get my shit together

FUTABA: and i go to school by myself all the time now i dont need to be walked there by my dad like a four yr old

FUTABA: r u sure u dont have anyone else who can take me

YUSUKE: You said it had to be someone you know.

YUSUKE: I can take you.

YUSUKE: But I’ll be getting to Kosei early to prepare.

FUTABA: how early is early

YUSUKE: Four in the morning.

FUTABA: PLEASE INARI

YUSUKE: The people you know is a quite limited pool, Futaba.

FUTABA: shut the hell ur face i dont need u tellin me to make kosei friends too

FUTABA: i get my butt to school every day i’m already a hero

FUTABA: ok alright

FUTABA: crow-san it is

FUTABA: hhh

FUTABA: no shut up stop typing i’m fine

FUTABA: i already saw his dumb ass get inflicted with Horny from Yaldy God Himself i ain’t afraid of no crows

FUTABA: actually now that i remember that that was pretty funny mwehehehehehehe

FUTABA: OKAY send me the who what when where why

YUSUKE: There’s a PDF flier. I’ll send it to you.

YUSUKE: But I will have to type the email to send it to you.

FUTABA: oh my GOD inari

FUTABA: i swear to god ur not actually this dense and youre just pretending u dont know what an exaggeration is just to drive me up the wall

YUSUKE: Oh, that is a possibility, isn’t it?

FUTABA: WH

YUSUKE: Ah, last period is starting. I’ll have to talk to you later.

FUTABA: WHAT

FUTABA: NO WAIT

FUTABA: HELLO????

FUTABA: YUSUKE NO COME BACK

Tuesday, 2:53 PM

FUTABA: YUSUKE HAVE YOU BEEN MAKING AKECHI DO UR HW FOR U SO YOU CAN DO MORE ART??

FUTABA: IS THAT WHY UR ON A FIRST NAME BASIS W HIM

FUTABA: ANSWER ME STRINGBEAN

*

In Futaba’s opinion, there’s an infinite amount of more embarrassing reasons to pull yourself out of your depression pit than “I needed to yell at my friend for being a snotty bastard,“ and there’s worse escorts to have than the weird guy who went from being a professional murderer to their weird awkward friend. Firstly, if there’s anything that can motivate Futaba Sakura, it’s the primal urge to dunk on her friends for spite and memes. Secondly, there’s no chance in hell Futaba’s going to have a breakdown in front of Akechi.

She can do this. She got herself out of this grave once; she can do it again. Even if Akira isn’t here. She’s getting better. She promised him.

On the eighth day of her almost-return to hermithood, Akechi texts her:

AKECHI: I’m here.

AKECHI: Are you ready to go?

Futaba is wearing only an old shirt, no bra, sweats, and vaguely greasy hair from all the showers she’s skipped.

FUTABA: i’m SO ready

FUTABA: the readiest

FUTABA: ultra mega super ready

FUTABA: featherman ranger code name Ready

AKECHI: Oh.

AKECHI: Alright.

Hell yes alright. Time for Futaba to save her own life from her gravesite of a room.

With… Goro Akechi. Wow, life is weird, huh?

She drags on her Kosei uniform like a skin discarded long ago. It feels stiff. Maybe because it feels wrong to wear school clothes like a functioning human; maybe because she just hasn’t washed it in a week. The very idea of explaining herself to Sojiro stresses her out, so she doesn’t do it. The idea of not explaining herself to Sojiro, when he deserves an explanation and also would probably have a heart attack if he realized that she’d disappeared from her room without his knowing, also stresses her out, so she still doesn’t explain herself to Sojiro.

I told Akira I’m better now. I can do this. I did this for more than six months. I was out of my room in the real world, I went to the school festival, I changed my own heart…

She creeps down the stairs like a thief in her own house and pokes her head out the door. Goro Akechi is fiddling with his phone in the sun outside her house, looking like he, too, has only just managed to pull on his Human Suit and look like a guy who didn’t make shadows beg for mercy for fun, so it looks like this whole expedition is going to be a lot of fun.

"Futaba-chan?” says Akechi, only just noticing her lurking in her own doorway. “It’s been a while since we last saw each other. How are you?”

Futaba opens her mouth. No noise comes out.

Akechi’s eyebrows slowly begin to knit together.

“I’m good,” she says squeakily. Clears her throat. Holy shit, she’s not afraid of Akechi after all that junk they went through in the Metaverse. She saw him as a rat. She saw him visibly want to break his father’s face when Shido tried to apologize to him on live TV. Once, Makoto and Akechi got into an unironic, passionate, hour-long argument about whether or not it’s beneficial to color code your notes.

“I’m alright!” Futaba announces louder, maybe a little loudly, considering the way he looks only more concerned. “L-Let’s hurry up and get this sidequest over with!”

She pulls her hoodie over her head and jams her hands into the pockets and makes herself as small as possible and inches out of the doorway. “If you… say so,” says Akechi, and eventually matches her incredibly slow pace as she shuffles her way towards the main street.

When the noise of Yongen-Jaya’s street hits her, her heart rate (already high as hell) spikes even higher like the first day she’d come out of her room, but the old coping mechanisms come back like second nature: Breathe slower, avoid eye contact, remember her mission, stick to the sides of the streets. Breathe slower. She’s still got it. It’s still hard, but she’s got a whole arsenal of ways to deal. She can do this. She will kick Yusuke’s ass for being a dick, if only out of sheer spite.

If Akira were here, I could hide behind him and…

No, shut up, shut up. All she has is her hoodie and Goro Akechi. Akira’s not here. She can do this by herself.

Akechi makes precisely two attempts at small talk (“How has Kosei been?” “Have you seen the pieces Yusuke submitted to the art show before?”) before he realizes that Futaba isn’t going to respond by virtue of barely holding onto her shit by her fingernails. He shuts up and sticks close by. Futaba makes her way down the streets towards the subway like walking on a tightrope. The subway station isn’t busy, but she puts every step in front of her like she’s going to fall. Getting on the subway might as well be a highwire. Futaba and Akechi wait for the train in mutual silence to the sound of other commuters murmuring amongst themselves, like a toothless echo of Mementos’s depths.

When they get on the train, people around her are quiet, thank god, but all of a sudden she’s convinced that she smells because she hasn’t taken a shower in literal days, and she tries to pack herself into her seat as tightly as possible. The guy in front of her is scrolling through something at a ferocious pace and his thumbnail keeps hitting the screen with this incessant clack, clack, clack noise. The subway voice announces their next station as the doors begin to close, and a girl suddenly sits bolt upright, having realized that this is her station after all, and bangs Futaba’s knees hard as she passes. Futaba wants to curl her legs to her chest, but she’s wearing Kosei’s uniform skirt and it’d just make everyone stare at her if she did that on the subway. She curls her fingers into the skirt hem. She stares down at her knees and lets her hair drape around her like a curtain. She can do this. She can do this. Breathe slower. Even slower. I did this for more than six months, I told Akira I’m better now, I changed my own heart…

Akechi pulls out his phone. Futaba’s phone buzzes.

AKECHI: Are you alright?

FUTABA: i said i was ready dude

Akechi types and retypes an answer, which technically Futaba could just look over his arm and read, but instead Futaba flips through apps on her phone and pulls up a shitty mobile dungeon crawler. She dies four times before Akechi puts his phone away without sending anything.

They pass multiple stations like that. Futaba sure as hell hopes that Akechi’s watching which station they’re on, because she isn’t. After the millionth time she dies, Futaba just closes the app altogether. Concentration’s shot. Can’t focus on anything. Heartbeat’s too loud. Breathing’s too loud. The guy next to her is breathing too loud. Everything is too loud.

New text:

AKECHI: Yusuke said you’d recovered from your cold, but you still look a little unwell.

Futaba doesn’t respond to that. She doesn’t need Negative Nancy over here telling her she’s gonna crack. Because she isn’t gonna. The subway starts to slow, and the voice announces the station for Yusuke’s school. She’s literally almost there, she’s right there, she might die in three seconds because her heart is going to pound of her chest but at least she’s going to make it, she promised Akira that she was alright—

The subway doors open. Passengers stand to get off. Akechi stands up. Futaba drops like a rock.

“I can’t,” Futaba’s voice says. She sounds like she’s crying. “I can’t, I can’t do it, I—”

“Futaba—”

“I’m can’t do it, I—”

She buries her face in her knees on the dirty subway floor. Oh, she really is crying. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…”

Around her, people’s feet stop moving. They’re staring at her. She’s crying on the subway and everyone is staring at her. “Shh,” says Akechi, like Futaba doesn’t know she’s being a loud and irritating pest, but then he takes off his winter coat and covers her with it. Suddenly everything goes dark. It’s a huge coat, too; it wraps around her whole torso with enough room to spare to cover her entire head. Inside, it’s like she’s back in her room, only listening to the sounds of real life somewhere on the other side of a computer monitor, where it can’t hurt her. It’s so surprising she hiccups to a stop. Two hands pull her up by the shoulders and guide her to stand. “Up. Let’s go.”

“Is she okay?” says a voice.

Futaba’s entire body seizes with fear. She ducks into her own knees, trying to disappear.

“Hey, little girl, are you alright?”

“She’ll be fine,” says Akechi’s friendly, super fake ass barbie prince voice. “My sister just had a hard day. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“A hard day?” Now the stranger’s voice is accusatory.

“For your information, our dog was recently brutally run over in front of her eyes.”

“Young man, are you serious right now?”

“Oh, yes. There was blood everywhere. Its intestines squelched horribly under the tires less than six feet away from her,” Akechi goes on. Futaba chokes, and then hiccups in what she realizes is almost a laugh. “Please excuse her. Thank you.” And before the literal complete stranger can follow up on that awful statement, Akechi takes her hand and pulls her up.

Futaba stumbles to her feet. If she has to take the coat off right now, she will actually die.

“It’s okay. Just hold my hand and follow me.”

Blindly, she lets him lead her out of the subway, weaving through people with only minimal contact with other people’s shoulders. There’s a whole awkward period where Akechi has to walk her up the stairs out of the subway station while she can’t see anything, but eventually the noise and bustle of other people around her seems to die away, and the air grows cooler in the way it does in the shadows between city buildings. Then they stop walking altogether. When Akechi lets go of her hand, she almost tries to grab it back before she catches herself.

“Okay. There’s nobody else around, now. It’s safe.”

Futaba doesn’t come out of the jacket. In the dark, her eyes dart back and forth, trying to see even as she blinds herself.

“Sorry for grabbing you so suddenly like that,” Akechi’s voice goes on after it becomes obvious she’s not going to come out.

Futaba wipes snottily at her own face. Oh, this is so gross, she’s got snot and tears on top of five days worth of grime and body juice because she hadn’t taken a shower. She’s disgusting. She really actually wants to die right now. She can’t show her face like this.

“Er,” says Akechi. “Do you want…. water, or…?”

Futaba folds up right there on the city pavement, probably dragging Akechi’s nice coat all over a dirty alleyway. She tucks her face into her knees, where she feels safest, and pulls the coat flaps even tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I’m sorry for not being okay,” she mumbles.

There’s a short silence. “You really don’t have to be.”

“I do,” Futaba says. She feels like she’s nine years old again, a petulant kid who needs to hold people’s hands and be escorted around Tokyo. “This is—it’s stupid, and I can’t believe I-I’m still doing this, a-and even a-after everything that h-happened last year, I’m still just a… I’m still…”

“It’s fine,” says Akechi. Even he sounds overwhelmed, and at the first sound of weakness, she pulls the coat off her head and glares at him furiously, red-faced and covered in tears and snot and gross depression juice crust and all.

“I’m not supposed to be this way anymore!” she says miserably. “I’m supposed to be better! Moved on! Doing literally a-anything else but crying over t-taking a subway! It’s stupid and nobody else is like this and I just want to be over this already and I just want to be better already and—!“

She covers her face with her hands again. God, even when she says that, it sounds pathetic.

After a moment or two, she hears Akechi moving again. She peeks at him. He’s crouching in almost the exact same pose as her, looking like he’s resigning himself to neither getting his coat back, nor moving from this spot any time soon, nor getting to Yusuke’s art show on time, but also looking archly and entirely unperturbed about it. Actually, it looks like he’s writing a work email on his phone.

Futaba was right about being in an alleyway, but it’s so cold because they’re shielded by a trio of vending machines selling canned coffee and wrapped sandwiches. "Our dog was recently run over?” she says.

“People can mind their own damn business,” says Akechi in his Pleasant Boy Voice, without looking up from his email.

“He was just trying to help.”

“Oh, yes, let’s help the crying girl by crowding her and suffocating her in a crush of public transit.”

Futaba snorts. “That was really mean of you.”

“Oh, absolutely,” says Akechi.

Futaba sucks a truly disgusting gob of snot into her nose. “Ugh. I wish I could’ve seen the guy’s face when you told him that.”

“It was like I’d spat on his shoes. I should’ve kept going. Or had a camera.”

“Futaba giggles wetly into her forearms. "Like one of those—those prank videos online… Get Yusuke to film it.”

“Yusuke, as the cameraman? I’m not trying to make a documentary.” Akechi flips to a different screen on his phone. “I already texted Yusuke about our poor dead dog, by the way, so don’t worry about it.”

Suddenly Futaba feels like literal garbage again. “Why are you always so nice to me?” she mumbles.

Akechi makes a weird face, like he’s trying to do his old Pleasant Boy shtick while having swallowed a lemon whole. “You say that like me being nice is somehow unusual.”

“Uh, yeah. Because it is. You literally were just being a huge asshole to a guy you’d never met over a fictional dog.”

Akechi has this increasingly disgruntled look on his face like he kind of wants to punt Futaba down some stairs, which, frankly, is the best sort of reward, in Futaba’s opinion. “I’m working on it,” he says grumpily.

“How’s that been?” says Futaba.

“Which part?”

Futaba has one whole moment of self reflection on this idea as maybe not a good course of action before she barrels on anyway: “The part where you’re turning your life around. Starting over. Trying again.”

“It sucks dick,” says Akechi.

“Oh, right on,” says Futaba, and then before she can stop herself: “Wait, I thought you liked dick?”

Akechi makes a noise like a strangled cat.

Futaba cackles. “Dude, incognito mode when you’re browsing for porn does not save you from people like me.”

“Have you been spying on me?”

“Uh, yes? Obviously?”

“You know you could get arrested for that sort of breach in privacy.”

“Oh, boo hoo, so sorry I know all about your weird orphan-saving night job and your smutty Featherman doujinshi collection. You’re not gonna narc on me.” Futaba stops. “Are you?”

“Stop looking at my internet history.”

“No. You better not narc on me.”

“Then stop looking at my internet history.”

“You had to google how to change a SIM card last week, crow-boy; you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

“I will narc on you.”

“No you won’t. You’re the one trying to not be an asshole.”

Akechi makes a face like a cat being slowly submerged in cold water. Futaba laughs in his face.

“If you’re quite done,” says Akechi grouchily.

“No, never. You’re made for being made fun of,” says Futaba. “I’m gonna be making fun of you for years and years, crow-boy; you’re never going to get rid of me.”

“Great.”

“Gonna be creeping on your weird orphan-saving night job until the day you die.”

“Wonderful,” says Akechi without inflection whatsoever.

“Mwehehehehehehehehehe.”

“If you’re quite done.”

“I will take a well-deserved break from my endless duty to troll you both on and offline,” says Futaba. “Because I really really really wanna go to the art show.”

Akechi has the nerve to look relieved that he no longer has to squat in a dirty alleyway listening to a high school freshman bully him. “Then let’s go.”

Futaba hugs her knees tight. “But I wanna keep your coat.”

“Aren’t you wearing your own coat?” says Akechi, trying to look like he isn’t shivering. “Aren’t you getting hot?”

“I’m keeping it.”

“It’s my coat.”

“I’m keeping it.”

“Fine, then. Keep it. It’s dry clean only.”

“Oh, ew. No, take it back, gross, gross,” and Futaba peels the snotty, tear-stained, dirty winter coat off and dumps it back in Akechi’s arms, who looks at it with the expression of someone long-suffering and without hope of escape.

“And,” says Futaba, “I wanna see it if you tell anyone else that our dog got run over.”

Akechi smirks. “You’ll have to film it, then.”

“Oh my god, like I wouldn’t.”

Futaba scrubs her face one last time. She still feels like she’s covered in a grimy layer of slime, but maybe she can wash her face at Kosei. When she gets there. Because she’s gonna get there.

“Uh, one more thing,” says Futaba.

“Not like you’ve bullied me into doing literally everything else you’ve wanted,” says Akechi.

“You can’t laugh at me.”

“Good thing I don’t have a sense of humor,” says Akechi, which horrifyingly confirms to Futaba that Akechi and Yusuke, of all people, really do share a sense of humor.

Futaba hesitates. “Please, um… please don’t tell Akira about this.”

“Why would I tell Akira?“

"Nice. Good answer.” She smooths her hair down, trying to make herself presentable, or just have something to do with her hands. “I… told him I was gonna be okay without him and all that, so… I don’t wanna let him down, you know?”

Slowly, almost shyly, Akechi smiles. “Oh, yes. I know.”

“Our secret. Secret-keepers.”

“Secret-keepers. Are you ready?”

Futaba takes another deep breath. Pushes herself up, brushes herself off, and sighs. “Absolutely not. This is gonna suck so much dick,” says Futaba. “Let’s go anyway.”

[candycanes19]

Playing in the Dark with No Escape  **Non Con**

Just a short update finally.

I have to thank @emeraldsiren19 for some ideas for the last few chapters of this fic!  :) 

“I do not know what you are talking about Daniel but you need your medicine.  You are having another mental breakdown.” the doctor said while giving Daniel another shot of medicine to calm him down.

Daniel had been raving on and on about you and Rhys, “My Princess, has a legal document that she has to tell him about me being his father.  She is a whore because she probably will not do it and then she needs to be punished and badly.”

The doctor was not fazed by Daniel’s outbursts.  They were becoming more and more common and the medicine was helping.  Finally Daniel passed out in his cell.  

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

You were enjoying a nice fall day with Riley and Rhys in your backyard.  Rhys was running around with a ball and some other toys he had while you sat in a chair. Riley was bundled in a baby seat that you were bouncing with your foot.  At one point Rhys came over to you and showed you a leaf he had found.  

“Mama, leaf” Rhys said, giving it to you.  You looked at Rhys for a moment and could not believe how much he looked like Daniel and that freaked you out for a moment then you shook your head and knew that Daniel was locked up for good and could never hurt you and Rhys again.  

“Yes my sweet baby boy, that is a leaf.  Can you find me more?” you ask him and he runs off into the backyard in search of more leaves.

Rhys came back with a handful of leaves, “RiRi see leaf” Rhys showed his baby sister and she just giggled as he shook it in front of her.  She tried to grab it but Rhys was moving it too fast.

You all did not notice Charlie standing in the doorframe watching all of this and smiling to himself at how lucky he was with his amazing family. 

“Okay kiddos, I think we need to get some lunch so put the leaves down Rhys and let’s go inside.” you said picking up Riley. 

“Hey all” Charlie then made his presence known and you all turned to see him.  Rhys ran over to him with a leaf and handed it to Charlie.

“Daddy leafs for you”  Charlie accepted the leaf from Rhys, “Thank you son.  It is a very cool leaf.  How many did you find?” 

“I found lots of leafs, daddy.  I gave mommy some.  Riley is too little so I just show it to her.”  Rhys explained.

“Yes Riley is little but she could play with it but she might try to eat it too.  And I do not need her eating a leaf now.” Charlie said and you nodded.

“Hi” you say and lean up to kiss Charlie.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you?” he kisses you back and then takes Riley from you so you can get Rhys inside.

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

Daniel wakes up again in his padded cell and looks around disoriented.  He tries to remember why he is in this cell.  All he remembers is what the doctor tells him that he is a sick man and this is the best place for him to live the rest of his life.  

Daniel starts his ranting again and the guards just ignore him unless he tries to do something stupid.  They have seen so many criminally insane people that nothing fazes them.  

The doctor came back to have another chat with Daniel and see how he was feeling.

“Where is my Princess and son?  I need them here”  Daniel yells at whoever happens to walk by his door.  

“Relax Daniel you are wearing yourself out.  And you are going to make your voice horse so stop hollering.” one guard says calmly to him but that does not help.  So the guard just walks away to check on other inmates. 

“Daniel how are you today?” the doctor asked.

“My son, Rhys needs me so why am I still here?  I need to speak with my lawyer or my sister, Piper.  They will help me get to my Princess” Daniel sounds so desperate to have his family back.

As the doctor leaves Daniel’s cell he looks over at the guard, “Poor guy he was from what I understood and up and coming government worker.  He had so much potiential but when he was accused of sexual assult and attempted murder there was no hope for him anymore.  Such a sad case.”  the guard just nodded and they both walked away. 

“Daniel, you have no rights anymore except for us here at the prison to make sure you are safe.  You can not see anyone except for me or the guards.  And if you have a son that is his choice to see you if he wants.  But right now I am giving you more medicine to calm you down.” the doctor pulls out a syringe and pokes Daniel’s arm with it. 

After a few moments Daniel is feeling woozy and weird, “I see her and Rhys.  Come here now and you will pay, Princess.” but then he falls down on his mattress and is out cold quickly.

[ruthoakenshield]

The Lady in the Black Leather (Ch17)

Catch up Here: [chapter 16]

Richard x reader

Graham and Phantom come walking in and see Rich is on the phone talking to someone quietly in the corner of the room.

 Graham unhooks Phantom who goes over to greet Rich. Graham quietly sets the bags down on a chair and lays the dog bed off to the side of the room where it will be out of the way. He takes the food and water bowls and stand out of the bag and set the stand along one wall.

 Graham takes the bowls to the sink and washes them with soap and water, then dries the food one with a paper towel. The other bowl he fills with water and brings it to the stand and places it in there. Then he opens the food bag and pours some food into the other bowl. He places that bowl in the stand as well.

 Phantom comes over to inspect what Graham is doing and then goes to munch for a bit once Graham moves away from the food stand. He chuckles and puts the dog food bag in one of the closets with Harley’s clothes and her messenger bag.

 Once Richard is off the phone, he comes back over and sits by Harley.

 Graham sits in a chair on the other side of the bed, across from Richard.

 “Lee says he’ll stop by later on in the week.” He tells Rich as he calls Phantom over and puts the new tag on his collar. Phantom stands on his hind legs to check on you and sees you’re still sleeping, so he goes to his bed, flops down and rolls around on it till he is comfy and goes to sleep.

 Graham chuckles.

 Aiden and Scarlett showed up a few minutes later with a pretty bouquet of flowers and a balloon for you. They put it on the windowsill where you can see it when you wake up.

 Aiden, Scarlett, Rich and Graham talk about what happened today quietly so as not to bother you.

 “How the hell did they find out where we all lived?” Graham asked, annoyed.

 Everyone shrugged. You had woken up but had kept your eyes closed trying to figure out what was going on. Feeling groggy from the meds.

 “He is a very resourceful asshole.” You reply quietly, cringing at the pain as you moved your leg. Everyone stopped talking and looked at you surprised. You open your eyes and look around.

 “Sweetheart, did we wake you?” Rich asks, concerned.

 “No, Hun, I’ve been awake for a bit, was just trying to make sense of where I was and what was going on before opening my eyes. Where am I?” You tell him and ask as he leans over and kisses your forehead.

 “You’re in the hospital, Sweetheart. They had to do surgery on your leg to get the bullet wound cleaned and stitched up. The bullet went straight through your leg and into the car door. You’re in your hospital room now.” he tells you.

 You nod. “Oh. That would explain why my leg hurts.” You say.

 You turn your head to see who all was there. Aiden, Scarlett, Graham & Rich were all there surrounding your bed. “Where’s Phantom?” you ask worriedly.

 Graham chuckles. “Don’t worry, Lass. He’s fine. Sleeping on his new bed over in the corner of the room.” He tells you.

 “Graham, you asked how my ex found where you all were living. My ex has connections all over the city, and he doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He is ruthless and is clever and manipulative. He doesn’t ever give up till he gets what he wants. He wanted to send a message that he means to hurt all of my friends if I didn’t go back to him. I don’t know how you got past him without being harassed by him at Aiden’s unless he arrived after you all did and before we did.” You tell him and sigh quietly.

 Phantom comes over when he hears your voice and nuzzles and licks your hand, whining quietly.

 You sigh and pet Phantom’s head. “It’s ok, boy, I’m right here. Go lay down.” You tell the dog.

 Graham shakes his head. “He must’ve shown up after I arrived, Lass. I didn’t see anyone, and I walked in the front doors. Aid and Scar went in through the underground parking.” He told you.

 “They got them all, Love, including your ex. So, there’s no need to worry anymore.” Richard tells you.

 You look up at him surprised. “Yeah, but will they get out on bail again?” you say dejectedly.

 He frowns. “I don’t know, Love, Alex didn’t say. It didn’t sound like they would though. He wants me to take a look at the restraining order you got, can I see it, please, Love?” he asks you.

 You nod and tell him to pull it out of your bag’s front pocket. He goes and gets it then sits back down by the bed to read it.

 Graham comes over and ask to see it too. You nod.

 They both read through it and Richard notices the two dates. “The first hearing is in two days and the other one is a few days after that.” Richard sighs.

 He pulls out his phone and enters the court hearings into his phone and sends a message to his agent about them and that he will need to make sure these two dates are kept clear of any activities or appointments. She messages back that the only thing he had was filming and she would explain things to the director to see if they could reschedule his scenes for another time.

 Graham puts the dates into his phone too and does the same with his agent. She tells him his schedule looks clear for those dates and he tells her to keep it that way. He asks if there’s anything scheduled for tomorrow and she tells him no. He tells her to keep it clear for him then hangs up.

 Richard looks at him funny. “You gotta work tomorrow, remember? You have that huge scene to do and there’s no way they’ll let you out of it! I’ll stay with her and keep her company while you’re at work, so she isn’t alone after all this.” He offers.

 Richard groans, having forgotten he will be filming all day tomorrow. He growls.

 “Don’t worry, Rich, go do your filming. We’ll keep her occupied and safe.” Graham tells his friend.

 Richard looks down at you, asleep on the bed again. Your friends all stay near you and talk quietly trying to figure out ways to keep you entertained while you’re in the hospital.

 Rich was going to wake you to ask you about doing the video call with the judge, but Graham stops him.

 Graham looks down at you. “Let her sleep for a bit, Rich, she looked exhausted and stressed when you two got to the hospital this morning.” He stated. “Didn’t ya get much sleep last night?” he teased.

 Richard looked at his friend with a completely deadpanned expression and said, “Like I told you, we watched a movie and cuddled then went to bed and slept in.”

 Graham smirked. “And???”

 Richard rolled his eyes at Graham. “And that’s all you’re getting.” He said as he got up and looked at you, brushing your hair out of your face that had come loose from your crown.

 “I gotta go talk to the director, and call my lawyer, agent and publicist I’ll be back in a little bit.” He told Graham, Aiden and Scarlett.

 Aiden, Scarlett & Graham nodded and sat quietly and talked while you slept.

 When you woke up an hour later, you looked around. Aiden and Scarlett were playing a board game on the bedside table they had rolled over by where they were sitting, and Graham sat by you reading his book. He glances over when he sees you stir and chuckles at your confused expression.

 “He had to go talk to our director and make a few calls, Sweetheart. He’ll be back in a bit. Asked us to stay with ya.” He tells you.

 You sigh.

 “Ya doing all right, Harley?” Graham asks coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed by you. He reaches up and tucks your flyaway hair back in it’s place that came loose from your crown while you slept.

 You shake your head. “I feel just drained. I’m tired of all this mayhem and feel horrible that I put so many people’s lives in danger. People lost their homes and possessions because of me living there, and Todd almost got killed because he hired me! You all were being stalked because you befriended me, and now my Ex tried to attack Rich and I.” you say and feel your eyes start to burn as tears form from the pent up worry and stress.

 Graham sighs and looks at Phantom who is licking your hand and nuzzling it trying to give you some comfort. He picks the dog up and sets him on the bed next to you. Phantom lays down and nuzzles your arm. You pet him and calm down, but still feel like you need a good, hard cry.

 Graham pulls you to sit up. “Come here lass,” he says and sits on the edge of the bed again. You lean over to him sniffling and tears roll down your cheeks. He opens his arms and pulls you in for a hug. You try not to cry, but he just holds you and gently rubs your back.

 “It’s all right, Sweetheart. Go ahead and cry if ye need to. I know ye’ve been under a lot of unnecessary stress. We aren’t mad at ye for any of this. None of it’s yer fault. Ye can’t control what others do and say. But we’re glad to have met ye and are here for ye through all this, ok?”

He tells you as you nod and start to cry.

 Aiden comes over and sits on the edge of the bed opposite Graham and Scarlett rubs your shoulder.

 “Graham’s right, Hun. None of this is your fault. Ben was an insane control freak and sooner or later he’ll pay for what he has done to you and everyone else, one way or another he will get his comeuppance. You have Phantom now, and he’ll keep you safe, and we will do our best to keep you safe as well.” She tells you.

 Aiden leans over to calm Phantom down, “It’s ok, boy. She just needs to let out some stress and cry. She’ll be fine.”

 Phantom leans against your good leg and whines quietly, then sits down and rubs his big, fluffy head on your tummy.

 Aiden looks up at Graham wondering what to do. Graham just raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

 You finally calm down. And Graham lets you go. “Feel better?” he asks.

 “A little.” You reply.

 He chuckles. “Sometimes ye just gotta cry and let the stress out, kiddo. Won’t do any good holding it in. It’ll just make ye sick.” He tells you as he takes a tissue from Scarlett and dries your tears.

 “Now, how about something to eat?” he asks. You shrug.

 Aiden grins, “I know just the thing! Stay here, I’ll be right back!” he exclaims and goes running off to the cafeteria.

 Graham looks down at you and caresses your face. “You and Rich doin’ ok?” he asks. You nod. “Yeah, Pops. He’s treatin’ me like a princess.” You tell him.

 He grins. “Good.” He tells you. “How’d last night go?” he asks you.

 You grin. “It went fine. He made me chocolate covered strawberries and we had wine and he made Lee’s homemade pepperoni pizza, which I have GOT to get the recipe for!” you tell him.

 Graham chuckles. “Good luck with that one, Sweetie, Lee rarely shares recipes.” He tells you, causing you to frown and pout.

 “So, what else did ye two do? Rich says you watched a movie.” Graham says.

 You grin mischievously, “Yeah, we watched his favourite one, though he failed to mention it’s name and I didn’t catch it when the movie first started.” You explain.

 Graham grins. “Distracted, were ye?” he asks.

 You giggle and nod. “Just a bit… I mean, chocolate dipped strawberries, homemade pizza and wine! Um, total distraction!” you grin and wiggle your eyebrows.

 Graham and Scarlett laugh.

 Just then, Graham looks up and chuckles when he sees Aiden coming back with a HUGE ice cream Sundae that is covered in chocolate, caramel, brownie bites, strawberry slices and banana slices. He has 5 spoons and a small bowl of vanilla ice cream for Phantom.

 You laugh at the ridiculous ice cream sundae he is carrying and Graham smiles. He pulls the bedside table over your lap where Aiden plopped the HUGE Sundae and you call Phantom over and give him the ‘come’ sign. He comes over and Aiden gives him the bowl of ice cream down on the floor.

Phantom sniffs it and looks up at you confused. You grin and Aiden picks up the bowl. He takes a little on his finger and puts it on Phantom’s nose. Phantom licks it off and then looks at the bowl confused. Aiden scoops another little bit on his finger and holds it out to him. He sniffs it and gives it a hesitant lick. “Good Boy!” Aiden tells him and his tail thumps.

 Aiden holds the bowl out and Phantom sniffs it again and licks the ice cream. “Yes! There ya go!” he tells him and puts it on the floor. Phantom lays down and licks at his ice cream while the four of you dig into the sundae.

 “Come on!” he tells you all, “Hurry before it melts! If we’re lucky, we’ll finish it before Rich, gets back!” he giggles.

 Soon Richard returns and Aiden groans, “Aw man! Now he’s gonna inhale the rest!” and everyone laughs.

 Richard grins when he sees that you’re awake and gets a bigger grin when he sees what you’re eating. He stands beside your bed and you look up at him.

 “Aid hoped we’d be able to finish it before you came back.” You said and giggled.

 He raised an eyebrow to Aiden who smirked. “Anyone want any more?” Aiden asked.

 You all laughed. “Naah, Aid, I’m stuffed.” Scarlett tells him.

 Graham chuckled. “I’ve had my sugar quota for the day now! I’m gonna have to hit the gym for an hour now ta work it all off!” he grins.

 You shake your head. “I’ve had enough, thanks Aiden.”

 Aiden shrugs, “I guess the rest is yours, Rich.” He tells him with a grin.

 Richard smirks, and goes to pull up a chair next to Aiden but Aiden just stands and motions for Rich to sit where he had been sitting. Rich nods and sits down.

 Phantom had positioned himself on your right side by Aiden and Graham and Scarlett were on your left.

 You look down and chuckle. Aiden looks down and sees Phantom’s bowl is empty and he has ice cream all over his face. Aiden busts up laughing, which makes Phantom look up.

 Richard glances down and grins, he motions for the dog to ‘come’ and the poor confused dog comes over to him. Richard motions for him to ‘sit’. And Phantom does.

 Richard takes a napkin and his bottle of water and gets the napkin wet. He wipes off the ice cream from the dog’s face, chuckling. “How did you ever get ice cream all over your face, boy?” he asks the dog.

 Phantom just looks at him and then at Aiden, who is still giggling. Phantom ‘wuffs’ at Aiden like he’s blaming Aiden for it, and Richard glances over at Aiden.

 Aiden looks at him and says, “What? I just got him a little bowl of it for a treat. How was I supposed to know he’d never had ice cream before! You should have seen how confused he was! I had to show him what to do with it. He had no idea how to eat it!” Aiden replied laughing.

 Richard chuckled. “Made a mess of it did ya?” he asks the dog.

  “Wuff” Phantom replied making him grin. “There… now you’re all cleaned up.” He tells the dog. “I’ll just take that, so you don’t get into it again.” He says as he leans down and grabs the bowl.

 They all chuckle and Richard digs into the rest of the sundae and finishes it off.

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[honeymoonjin]

A/N: I can’t wait to hear your thoughts after this chapter! A lot of vital information is contained in these 3k words, and I’m curious to see how your theories have changed after reading it! 

Synposis: Your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, has gone missing. After acting erratic for a few weeks, spending all his time locked away in his studio, he suddenly vanishes into thin air, leaving only an unreleased album behind. Zodiac.

Chapter Five – 이 모든건 우연이 아냐  (all of this is no coincidence)

It’s Monday morning, not quite 4am. That means it’s Day 4 of your boyfriend being missing, Day 4 of no news and seemingly nobody caring.

Jin had kept you mostly inside for the remainder of the weekend, trying to keep you occupied, it seemed, with food you had no appetite for and visitors you weren’t interested in chatting with. Just last night, his youngest brother had come over with a couple of DVDs and some microwave popcorn, like it was a fucking sleepover.

Quickly, the two of them had realized that your despondency wasn’t going to be solved by the latest superhero flick, and Jin had muted it and left to go make some dinner while Taehyung shuffled over to your side of the couch, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You know,” he said conversationally, but ever so softly, “us Kims have always been a strong bunch. We stick together and we’re loyal to a fault. In fact, the biggest tension between us since I can remember has been Jinnie not showing up to our Christmas dinner. Family is incredibly important to us. So, I know how you must feel right now. Because trust me, we’re all feeling that way.”

You leant into the weight of his body on your side, enjoying the small comfort it brings as you stared blankly at the flashing colors on Jin’s oversized television. “It doesn’t feel like that. It feels like I’m trying to find my missing boyfriend and you all are planning what hymns to sing at the funeral. I don’t understand why you’ve all given up so soon.”

He stiffened. “We haven’t given up,” he said, voice gravelly, “not a single bit. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to…see him again,” he pushed out through a voice thick with tears, “to hear him laugh, to give him a hug, to tell him how much I need him right now. There’s nothing. But right now, I can’t do anything except hope and pray that the detectives do their job. Because what else can I do?”

You twisted your head lightly to stare at his orangey-red hair, dull and flat compared to what you knew was his normal brilliance. “Maybe there is something,” you whispered.

He froze. “What?”

You eyed the doorway. “Listen, I…there are lots of things I can’t explain right now, but there’s something seriously fishy going on, and I think Namjoon knew whoever took him was going to take him. He wrote a secret album and I think if we really listen to the lyrics, we might be able to piece something together.”

He lifted his head off of your shoulder and blinked at you in confusion. “He wrote an album saying that someone took him?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, here,” you fished the USB out of the pocket you had stubbornly kept it in since you were in Namjoon’s studio and handed it to him. “Listen to it, but don’t tell anyone else but me, okay? Maybe you’ll pick up on something I didn’t. I thought I could figure this all out on my own, but I can’t. I need you to trust me and trust Namjoon, okay?”

He stared down at the hunk of metal and plastic in his hand. “Sure. Yes, okay.” A noise in the kitchen startled you, and you shoved his hand towards his pocket, insisting he hid it, and then the rest of your night with the two Kim brothers went uneventfully, Taehyung luckily not mentioning what you had told him.

Now, though, it was a couple of minutes before 4, and you found yourself roaming Jin’s house in socked tip-toes, unable to sleep as was now usual. In fact, you don’t think you had slept at all since Namjoon went missing apart from those few hours on the first night.

The house was freezing, and apart from the whistle of the wind outside, and some branches scratching on window glass, it was silent.

Being a lawyer certainly had its perks, and an insanely big house was apparently one of them. You had only just begun to realize now how big it was. This past weekend had seen you remaining on the ground floor, with no need to venture further, but after getting sick of sitting in your bed and thinking for hours on end, you had snuck out of the guest bedroom and had a little snoop around.

The excess of windows provided some moonlight to see by, but it wasn’t much, and you moved slowly up the stairs to the second floor, finding a study and a couple different storage rooms as well as his laundry, but nothing else of interest. The third floor looked technically more like an attic judging by the narrow, steep wooden stairs leading up into darkness. You decided to leave exploring that until daytime, knowing that you wouldn’t deal well with the cobwebs and spiders you were likely to encounter.

You remained on the second floor for what could’ve been minutes or hours, sitting in front of the large bay window that looked out onto the street. Streetlights made puddles on the dark road glimmer, and it looked more like a still-life painting than reality. It was peaceful staring at the shifting of bushes and trees all down the road and were it not for a sudden noise you could’ve stayed there until the sun rose.

The noise was a plank creaking, and you shot around, convinced it was Jin coming up the stairs to yell at you. Squinting into the shadows by the stairwell across the hall, you thought you saw a black figure, and your heart leapt into your throat.

It was hard to tell with how shadowed the area was, and your distance, but you froze and stared wide-eyed at a vaguely humanoid area that was darker than the rest. It didn’t move. Neither did you.

You forced yourself to breathe again. “Jin?” you called out quietly, weakly. No response. “Jin, is that you? I’m sorry, I just couldn’t sleep.” Still nothing.

You groan, letting your face fall into your hands, rubbing at your tired eyes. When you look up again into that void, you can’t make out the space where you thought you had seen something before.

Fuck. Namjoon’s sleeping pill prescription sounded fantastic right about now.

It had taken you a long time to work up the courage to approach the stairs in order to return to your room, but when you did, your worries were dissolved. There was nothing there. After tossing and turning in your bed until it reached an acceptable hour to get up, you got dressed in a warm sweater and some fur-lined leggings and made your way out to the kitchen.

Jin was there, eating a piece of buttered toast while in full lawyer get-up: suit, briefcase, slicked-back hair to expose his serious brows. He looked up when you walked in and gave you a cheery nod.

“Back to work?”

He nodded again, finishing his bite before he spoke, dumping his dishes in the sink as he went. “’Fraid so. Duty calls. Will you be alright here by yourself?”

“Of course.”

He wipes his hands delicately on a hand towel. “I’m always a call away if you need me, okay? No problem is too small; if you need me, if you feel scared or upset and you need to talk it through with someone, I’m here.”

You forgo a verbal response, nodding instead. He grins at you, walks over, and places a hand on the back of your head, bending down to land a gentle kiss on your forehead. You blink in shock, but he just sends you another soft smile, waving a hand as he exits the kitchen.

Once he’s gone out the front door and the house falls silent, you exhale noisily. “Man,” you mumble to yourself. But there’s no time to think on the sweet intimacy of the gesture, because today you have a two-step plan: discuss the album with Taehyung and confront Hoseok.

Taehyung is on the agenda first since you know he works afternoons at a nearby café, and so you call him to arrange a meeting over breakfast. He comes by shortly after you finish cleaning up, and the two of you take a walk over to the park down the road, sitting side-by-side on a bench opposite a frozen-over duck pond.

“What did you think?” you ask finally, breaking the silence you two had gotten stuck in.

His hair is a little shinier today and the tip of his nose is red from the chill. “Why didn’t you come to me with this sooner, Y/n? Namjoon’s been gone at least three days.”

“I didn’t know who to trust,” you fire back defensively, “I just needed time to see things straight.”

“And can you?”

“Can I what?”

Tae sighs. “See things straight now?”

You consider. “Somewhat. Maybe.” You bite your lip and turn to face him, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets to fight the cold. “Anyway, what did you think? Do you believe me now?”

He rests his chin thoughtfully on a gloved fist. “Namjoon definitely thought something was going on, alright. Some lyrics are clearer than others, but on a first listen I could tell that he knew something was up.”

“Good, so we’re on the same page about that, at least. Things…I’ve found out some things, along with the lyrics, that make me suspect Hoseok.”

Taehyung’s face immediately breaks into a frown. “Hobi? Hobi’s an angel, he and Namjoon are closer than anything.”

“I know,” you ease, “but just hear me out. Detectives Jeon and Park told me Hoseok said Namjoon and Yoongi fought, which is a big reason why they suspect Yoongi. But Hoseok told me that he was angry at the detectives for locking up Yoongi without looking further.”

“So the detectives were lying?”

“No. Well, I thought that too, because I trust- trusted Hobi, but when I told them I’d talk to Hoseok about it they didn’t even flinch. If they were the ones that were lying, they wouldn’t want me to cross-reference and catch them out. But they didn’t care. Hobi must be the one lying.”

Taehyung puffs out his cheeks and rubs his cold ears. “Y/n, that’s not evidence. Maybe both things are true, you know? Hobi did hear them fighting but he still wants the detectives to be thorough. That’s perfectly reasonable.”

You huff, reaching into your pocket to retrieve a piece of paper you had folded away that morning. “Look, I went through ZODIAC and found some lyrics that really point to him.”

“Y/n…”

“The title of the whole album is ZODIAC,” you interrupt, “so what zodiac sign is Hoseok?”

“Uh, Aquarius, right?”

“Chinese Zodiac, Tae.”

“Same year as Joon. Year of the Dog.”

“Exactly. Track five: ‘you better keep the wolf back from your door.’ Wolf like dog.”

A pained look flits across his face. “Y/n, I don’t think this is healthy.”

“Track eight,” you continue stubbornly, “’what had you expected? Me to make my art and make you a star and get you connected.’”

“They broke into the industry at the same time, Y/n,” Tae protests, staring down at his shoes and ignoring your gaze.

You frown at him. “You just told me you believed that Namjoon put clues in his lyrics and now you’re ignoring them! Look, track two. ‘I’m trying to land this airplane of ours gracefully.’ What was Hoseok’s first single? Airplane.”

“Come on!” Tae sits up at glares at you, eyes shining. “Do you know how hard this is for me, Y/n? My big brother has disappeared off the face of the fucking earth and you’re putting on a tin foil hat and playing conspiracy theorist? Either someone took him, and we hope to God the detectives have gotten the right guy, or he just ran away. All this,” he waves at your piece of paper bitterly, “isn’t helping. It’s just upsetting me. So please, stop.”

You bite your lip and shift in your seat. “I- I’m sorry, Tae, I’m not trying to upset you. But there’s more, here, track nine: ‘dreaming of a place and time where you and I remain the best of friends, even after all this ends.’ You can’t deny that one, Taehyung. It all points to Hobi. I want to talk to him, try and see if he acts guilty or maybe has some motive. This is our chance to get Namjoon back, T. Don’t you want that?”

Taehyung stands up suddenly, pacing back and forth a little before stopping in front of you. “I’m not doing this, Y/n. I can’t believe that Hobi would do something like this, I’m sorry, but I just can’t. Detective Jeon called me and told me what you did the other day. Said that I should call him if you acted strange. I won’t tell him, because I think maybe this is just your way of grieving, but you need to stop.”

Your grip slackens on the piece of paper. “Jeon called you and got you to spy on me for him?”

“Seriously, Y/n, it’s not like that! He’s worried about you, we all are! Just talk to us!”

You scoff. “I did try and talk to you and look where that’s gotten me.”

“About your feelings, Y/n, not about who faked the fucking moon landing!”

“Oh, fuck you, Taehyung,” you spit, standing up off the bench and glaring at him. “This isn’t my grieving process, this is me trying to get your brother back, so give me a fucking break. Tell Jeon whatever the fuck you want. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when I see him later. Goodbye.”

You’re so furious you’re practically steaming out your ears, but you know that this fury of yours is just a front for the betrayal and uncertainty you feel. This morning, as you prepared your thoughts, you were sure of yourself, and looking forward to having someone to affirm you and someone to trust. But now you felt more alone than ever, and Taehyung’s rejection gave you concern that perhaps your ideas weren’t as solid as you had once thought.

Nevertheless, you found yourself making your way to Hope Studio, where you now stood, knocking on the door less confidently than you had intended.

Before the door opens, you send off a text to Park, not interested in dealing with Jeon’s attitude. I’ll be at the station by midday, just stopping off to speak with Hoseok first.

Hoseok opened the door after your second knock, and immediately went in for a hug. You let yourself relish it for a moment but pushed him away and sat down on his couch. “Hobi,” you begin, “Jeon and Park told me you heard Namjoon and Min Yoongi fighting.”

His eyebrows raise in the center. “Good morning to you, too. But yeah, dude just showed up one night and went apeshit on Nam. It was last Wednesday. You know, after Min lost the Album of the Year award to him.” He collapses onto his desk chair with a smile, mouth closed but cheeks still raised. The expression is familiar to you.

“I saw in Park’s notes that somebody filed a noise complaint. Was that Yoongi?”

That same tightlipped beam, completely at odds with the topic. “Yep.”

“Hoseok, you’ve never been good at lying.”

His face falls. “I’m not lying,” he insists weakly, “not completely. Yoongi did come over that night, I swear. But…the noise complaint was me.”

You frown. “You filed the noise complaint.”

He sighs. “No, I was the one being noisy.”

“Oh.” You open your mouth to ask him why, but your phone vibrates violently against your thigh. You tug it out of your pants pocket and check the screen, a message from Park flashing up.

Don’t let him get you alone. Leave now and come to the station, Y/n.

Your eyes widen, but you manage to school your expressions into general annoyance rather than suspicion and fear. “Dammit,” you groan, “sorry, Hobi, I have to head off.”

He stares at you in confusion as you stand up. “How come? You just got here.”

“Tae thought I was at Jin’s house still and he’s waiting outside without a key.”

He frowns. “So? Can’t he just leave?”

“We were meant to be hanging out and it totally slipped my mind. I’m sorry, Hobi, is it cool if I come back tomorrow?”

He pauses. “Yeah. Sure thing, sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You smile at him placidly and try not to rush out the door.

Once in the hallway, your heart begins to beat again, and your breath returns. You flick a message to Park. What the fuck? I’ve left now, what’s going on?

It’s a couple minutes before he replies, long enough that you’re out into the open air of the street, thanking your lucky stars that the Cypher studios and the police station are both in the same area of the city center. We’ll explain at station. We told you not to get involved.

You roll your eyes and groan. Seriously? Tell me something now or I’m not coming to the station. You need to stop lying to me.

Instead of Park, it’s Jeon that responds, again a few minutes after you sent off your message.

Don’t act like you don’t know. Min Yoongi is being framed.

You reel back, coming to a halt ten or fifteen meters from the doors of the police station. You blink at your phone, rereading the message, then stare at the tall, imposing building in front of you. This whole time, they knew. They knew Min Yoongi was innocent and still they were preparing to lock him up. And with the way they reacted to you visiting Hoseok, you knew he must’ve been the one to frame him.

Both parties complicit, and every other person didn’t seem to care at all. Perhaps you were walking into the lion’s den, but at least there were answers on the other side. You take a deep breath, resolve your courage, and make your way inside.

TAGLIST Message me or send in an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist. You’ll receive a notification every time I update ZODIAC.

@itishebihime-samaforyou || @hoodiebangtan || @sunnysideupsmile|| @emilypkuzu || @youngmsfts 

[angel-gidget]

The Hop, the Skip, & the Endless Jump: My Tony Stark/Amnesia: Memories AU

I suppose we all have that one story for a fandom that's just sitting in our brains, marinating with little hope of coming to fruition bc it's just too complicated to quite get fully written out in actuality.

Mine is an MCU/Amnesia: Memories crossover au thing. Basically, Tony Stark wakes up with partial amnesia one day, and every interaction he has with every single person feels off. But being Tony, he adjusts and starts to kinda get into the swing of things over the course of the next 24 hours. Team? Avengers. Fiancé? Pepper. Bestie? Rhodey. Protege? Peter. Pain in the ass? Ross and/or Rogers depending on the day.

But then he wakes up on the same day in what is clearly a different universe.

No fiancé. Best friend? Rogers?! Protege? Riri. Pain in the ass? Some dude named Von Doom of all things. He figures out that he's in a different universe, but how he body-hopped into it and why is something he doesn't even get a chance to look into before he wakes up. Again.

Same day, different universe. Team? Avengers... Academy. Fiancé? None. Because apparently he's younger here? Best Friend? Janet Van Dyne and sometimes Loki. Protege? None. Because apparently, he can barely grow facial hair here. But he finds himself bestowing unwanted advice on Peter Parker anyway. Pain in the ass? Nick Fury. So he studies the local time-fog and only learns how utterly non-sensical the explanations for his situation could even be.

So he's kind of relieved when he wakes up again. But that relief dies with the next Q&A. Team? None. Fiancé? None. Bestie? Happy Hogan... but dead. Protege? Some Hulk-like kid who's clearly being emotionally abused. Maybe by Tony himself?  Pain in the ass? Definitely the man in the mirror because apparently Tony is a BAD GUY in this dimension. So Tony decides to wreck as much as possible for himself in the next 24 hours because, hey, might as well TRY to leave this world a better place, right?

When he wakes up again, the first thing Tony wants to know is if he's even a good person. But then the questions multiply because he realizes he's woken up on a space ship. Team? Guardians of the Galaxy. Fiancé? His teammates keep referencing a crazy alien protoplasmic being that is ruler of a distant planet, but Tony can't tell if they're joking or not. Bestie? Rocket or Peter Quill depending on the day. Protege? Peter Parker. Who is Iron-Spider in this 'verse apparently, and oh God, that is adorable. And apparently Peter is also his recently adopted son? What? Pain in the ass? Thanos. But also the Avengers, his former team in this dimension. (This entire universe is basically a slightly fluffier version of Influential Pineapple's AU, How to Repair a Broken Heart.)

.... so basically, the Amnesia: Memories premise just provides a framework for related dimension-hopping vignettes in which I could play with Tony's interactions with others, while still giving myself leeway for not being super-familiar with the comic-verse or writing Marvel fanfic in general. Also, maybe an opportunity to ask permission to play in the sandboxes of some of my favorite fanfic authors.

But unlike the Amnesia: Memories video game, Tony's dimension-hopping might actually have a lot of possible explanations. Did Tony get lost in a time-fog in his original universe? Did he get cursed by a magic user? Maybe this is the result of messing with infinity stones? Hard to say. He'd probably run a few of these theories in-story as well.

I guess notes have implied so far that Tony only spends 24 hours in each reality, but I think I'd also prefer to mimic A:M in the sense that his stays are not that consistent. He might spend anywhere from a day to a week in each reality. He's got no control over it. Until he realizes that if he dies, he'll wake up somewhere else. Thus Tony realizes he technically has the ability to shorten his stay. If he's desperate. Joy.

So the whole thing is an angstfest, basically. If he's in a nice comfy dimension, it's torture bc he knows he can't stay. Then the awful realities are just awful. And it only gets more and MORE tempting to apply things he learns about people into other dimensions.

Some of the WORST things:

Waking up in an addicted body. MCU Tony had a... less dramatic recovery from alcoholism than other versions of himself. Waking up homeless, curled up in a snow-covered dumpster, with every cell in his body screaming for vodka was an experience Tony could have 100% done without.

Going from 60 to 0 with Peter. Tony can adjust fairly quickly if he lands in a dimension where he's closer to Peter than he remembers. Hug more. Speak a little softer. It's nice, really. Maybe kinda addictive. Which would explain why following that up with a reality where Peter treats him like a total stranger makes him feel absolutely sick inside.

The revolving door of Romance. Tony is sure that in his original dimension he was with Pepper. At least, he's mostly sure. To be fair, the dimensions in which Pepper is his ex also have a feeling of... normalcy. Not good--not good at all--but not odd either. And of course, there are the worlds where he wakes up with someone else. Those can be tempting. Especially if the last few realities have involved waking up alone. Things sometimes go... badly if Tony explains the dimension hopping too quickly. He needs to know if he can trust people first. That often involves... playing along. Which may involve being a playboy again. He's too old for this. He's not the same age in every reality, but he knows he's too old for this. It sucks.

Steve. The pure whiplash of knowing the best and worst of the man, and having too much of all his lives affected by it. And then having to interact with whatever THIS Steve’s normal is. Good or bad, it never feels fair.

The damn dystopias. Some entire worlds are just that bad. Zombie plague. Dictator Von Doom. The Snap. Even one occasion where there was only a belt of iced-over rocks where the Earth should have been.

His own reaction to the damn dystopias. After the pile-of-rocks incident, Tony's first words when he woke up in the next dimension were "Screw this." He never found out if he was romantically involved with anyone, but he noticed Pepper left some calls. He told his AI--a new one, he didn't know this one. That was fine.--to book him a flight to the nearest tropical beach with minimal crowds. And to invite Peter Parker.

To his relief, a very confused eighteen-year-old Peter did show up in front of his private jet. This one didn't know him very well, but was his honest-to-God intern through SI. So of course he was up for whatever his boss's bosses' great-grand-boss wanted. So Tony lied and told Peter he'd picked his name at random, and that as an eccentric billionaire, Tony Stark invited random Interns on a flight of fun all the time.

He then proceeded to underhandedly use every little preference and detail he had learned about Peter over the span of realities to set him at ease as he proceeded to be a horrible influence and drag them both away from all responsibility. The Avengers tried to call him twelve times. Seven from Nick Fury. Eight from a Carol Danvers, whoever the hell that was.

Tony spent the week laying on a beach, playing video games, imbibing sugar, and listening to Peter call and make excuses to his aunt while joining him in all the above. It was funny until Peter dropped his phone into Tony's lap. Then May Parker reminded Tony that responsibility was a thing.

And okay, she didn't know. She didn't know that Tony was half-insane from witnessing the erasure of the earth. But she knew that her nephew was missing his classes and had been whisked overseas without a passport. And she knew that maybe Tony didn't care about what the consequences of that would be for Peter, but he should. He should.  

He looked up saw that Peter's eyes were wide as saucers and Tony realized his own cheeks were wet. So he told May he was sorry, and then told his AI to wire thirty-six thousand dollars into the Parker's joint bank account. (It was a strange tiny number, but it was the most money any May Parker had ever accepted from him in any dimension, and Tony remembered that.) It was just in case. In case Tony wasn't there the next day. In case they needed anything. Like a lawyer. Or a fund in case Peter lost his scholarship.

After a week of this? He probably had. And it would be all Tony's fault. Because he'd lost it and gone on a BENDER. And wasn't that a realization? He didn't need alcohol or sex to go on an irresponsible bender and drag his a kid into it with him.

Tony woke up in a new reality the next day, resolved to do better. He called May Parker first thing, and thanked her. This May Parker had never spoken to a Tony Stark, and assumed it was a prank call. That was fine. There were space aliens attacking, and Tony had a suit.

Team? Avengers. Fiancé? To be figured. Bestie? Thor? Thor. Okay. Protege? Harley Keener. Pain in the ass? The Chitauri today. Oh, goody. He already knew exactly what to do.

Time to be Iron Man again.

[therandomfics]

Strangers Pt4

“Let’s carry on without Detective Carisi. Apparently he’s going to be a little late,” Lt. Benson told you nearly half an hour later. 

“Lieutenant Benson, I was just thinking..” you trailed off as you held up the phone of the victim in the evidence bag. “Her location services are on and the last notification she has is from Meet and Mingle, the website I’ve been working to find our suspect. It’s possible he’s using that to track his victims down and make his move. They wouldn’t be very suspecting, would they? It’s late, it’s dark, it’s the city. No one really pays anyone much mind, myself included. So what’s to say he didn’t sneak up on her like he did the other women at the park and the library?” 

“How long have you been working your case, Detective Sullivan?” 

“About a month. I’ve cleared everyone on my list, well almost everyone. Two people left. One is actually a lawyer from Brooklyn who works in Manhattan and I was just two blocks away with him about six hours ago at a benefit. His name is on the invitation,” you explained and pulled your phone out of your coat pocket. “Daniel Hardisty. He practices law at Jefferson and Walsh, about six blocks away.” 

Benson got on her radio and requested more information and footage from the benefit, specifically about Daniel. “Thank you, Detective.” 

You nodded as she walked away, leaving you alone with the deceased. “I’m sorry. I was two blocks away.. I wish I would have known. Maybe I’m not supposed to be a detective. Maybe I really should be a teacher.” Or maybe you needed psychiatric help - you were talking to a corpse. “I’m gonna find him, I swear. And when I do, he’s gonna pay for what he’s done.” 

“Sully,” your Captain called out. You stood up and turned to face him. 

“Sir?” 

“Go home. You’re getting a new partner in a few hours, someone who knows the ins and outs of Manhattan. You’ll be meeting at 8AM, the coffee shop on Park and 37th. Try to get some rest, but let me know when you get back home. This guy could be after you, too, kid,” he said - in his gruff, but fatherly tone. 

Six in the morning was always too early, especially when you’d only gotten about two hours of sleep in between getting home and needing to leave again. Whoever your new partner was, you hoped they would be able to shed a little light on the situation. If your killer had moved on to Manhattan, it was possible that he’d been somewhere else before. Maybe it was a good idea to look into other areas. You’d be sure to pass the idea along when you met whoever they were in a little while. 

One of the perks of being a Detective was the freedom to wear what you wanted within reason. A crisp black suit, modest but attractive block heels, and a dark green blazer was your favorite outfit so far. It was professional and stylish, especially when you let your hair dry naturally and curl into soft waves. You wanted to make a good impression. 

Your nerves got the best of you as you arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes earlier than expected. Good impressions meant being on time, and being on time meant being early. You ordered yourself an iced coffee and sat at a table near the back of the cafe. Would you be obvious? You made sure to wear your shield on your belt and to keep your weapon disclosed beneath your blazer. Your phone vibrated in your hand, a message from Dominick showing on the screen. 

D: Good Morning - hope you’re doing well.

Y: Great, you?

D: Had a rough night. I’m pretty sure I’m finally over a stomach bug. Who knows? Lysol’d the entire apartment and washed everything I could get my hands on. I feel like a million bucks today. 

Y: Oh, no, stay away from me until you’re 2000% sure you’re good to go lol. I don’t have time to be sick. 

D: Me either. I missed some important stuff yesterday at work. Gotta play catch up today. 

Y: I’m rooting for you :)

You finished your drink and looked through your messages on Meet and Mingle. One in particular had popped up 30 seconds ago. 

yourenodaisy: You are very pretty. Would it be okay if I got to know you? 

Y: Thank you for the compliment. I don’t see why not. 

ynd: You are welcome. Wow. Women don’t usually respond to me. 

Y: I’m sorry. Perhaps it’s your lucky day. 

ynd: You have no idea. 

“Y/N?”

You looked up and saw Dominick standing at the counter, obviously ordering a drink for himself. 

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you sang as you jumped up from the table. “Wow, I wished you into existence.” 

He embraced you and kissed your cheek. “Why.. what are you doing in Manhattan at 8AM? Don’t you have a class to teach?” Thankfully he spoke over the metallic clinking of your shield against... his belt buckle? 

You froze in your hug and scrambled to think of something to say. “Exams. I’m not proctoring today. Why aren’t you at work? It’s a little late for you to be just getting coffee.” 

He pulled away and scratched his head. “Yeah, I’m um, supposed to be meeting someone from another office today. Not sure where she is yet, but we’re doing a bit of work together to kind of bridge a gap between the offices.” 

Your eyes narrowed and you regarded him with suspicion. “Where is she?” 

“I don’t know. She’s supposed to be here.” 

“Where’s she from?” 

“Brooklyn.” Suddenly, it clicked. Literally, and figuratively. The clinking noise you had heard a moment ago wasn’t from his belt buckle. 

“Detective Carisi?” you asked sheepishly. You hoped he would look at you as if you were insane, because you were wrong. Instead, he took a step back and looked you up and down. 

“Sullivan.” 

You exhaled and walked back to your table to grab your empty cup and throw it away. “I took the subway so I guess you’re driving.” It was always better to own the situation than to wallow in self pity. 

“Wait a second, Y/N,” he called out as he grabbed his cup and followed you out onto the sidewalk. “Is that really your name?” 

“Evan Y/N Sullivan. Yes, Evan. Yes, it’s really my name.” You bit back a frown and showed him your badge. “Brooklyn SVU.” 

“Why’d you lie to me then? Why couldn’t you tell me who you really were when we met?” he inquired as he continued to stand stoically on the sidewalk. 

“Who blows their cover in an active investigation, Dominick? Plus, you weren’t exactly forthcoming with me, either,” you pointed out, crossing your arms. “Is Dominick your name?” 

“Sonny. Dominick Carisi Jr, but I go by Sonny.” Dominick or Sonny, it didn’t matter, neither of them had a poker face. It was wildly obvious that he was angry with you and you couldn’t blame him, you just didn’t sympathize. “I can’t believe this shit. You mean to tell me you were investigating me?” 

You nodded. He was incredulous but you weren’t budging. 

“I’m an NYPD Detective and you were investigating me for the murders of two women?” 

“Maybe three. Were you really sick last night?” you countered. 

“You’re unbelievable, Sullivan. Really.” 

You shrugged, indifferent - or at least, trying to seem that way. A part of you suddenly felt hollow, like you’d been broken up with but you’d never even really begun dating. “We can go round and round all day, or you can show me where you parked, I can take you to the crime scene, and we can start looking into this girl’s life.” 

“I know how it works, thanks,” he spat. 

The car ride over you spent ignoring Sonny, or whatever his name was, and instead continued messaging your new mystery man. 

ynd: You seem really nice. Is there any chance I could take you out sometime? 

y: Maybe. Depends on when and where. 

ynd: I work long hours during the day and normally don’t get off until around 7.. but, if you could make like 8:30 work... I’m in Queens, you?

y: I’m in Brooklyn. 

ynd: Oh I thought you were in Manhattan. 

y: No, sorry, Brooklyn. Is that too far? 

ynd: No not at all I was just in Brooklyn a few weeks ago on a date that didn’t go too well. 

y: Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened? 

ynd: She was just rude, played on her phone instead of talking to me. I really hate that. 

“Could you stop talking to all 20 of your boyfriends and pay attention?” Carisi asked in his agitation. 

You turned the screen off and turned in your seat to face him. “Are you more angry that I lied and said I was a teacher, or that I looked into you as a potential suspect? Which is it?” 

“Both.” 

“Really mature. I’m sorry I lied, it was part of my cover. But I’m not sorry I investigated you as a murder suspect because I’m glad that I got to know you a little better. You might be really mad at me right now, and I get that, and fuck, you might not even want to talk to me anymore beyond this investigation, but I am glad we met, and you should know you’re the only guy I ever went out with more than once.” 

“I doubt that, Sullivan. You probably lead everyone on,” he muttered gloomily. “As for those two girls that ended up dead, we had plans to meet and we never did, okay? They never showed up.” 

“Did they say anything about other dates?” 

“No that’s not normally something you discuss when you’re trying to date someone else.” 

“I’m just asking for the sake of finding the murdering bastard who’s making it even harder to find a decent companion in this city,” you hissed. 

“Maybe if people weren’t always lying -” 

“No, no, no. I’m about deception, not your self deception. You lied to me too, Carisi.” 

He pulled into a parking spot in front of a high end boutique where the victim had worked. “I didn’t lie, I was vague. God, you know what, I really thought you were something special, like I really enjoyed spending time with you.” 

You got out of the car abruptly and slammed the door before going inside to ask your run of the mill questions, hoping to find some insight into what was happening around you. 

“What did you find out today?” Lt. Benson asked as you and Carisi arrived back at the Manhattan SVU squad room. 

“Our latest victim had complained to a few of her co-workers that she’d met a guy online and been on a date, and he was really abrasive and rude. He scared her, apparently, and when she left the date early he got mad and messaged her all night long, telling her how horrible of a person she was and that he hoped she died alone,” Carisi answered.

“I called TARU, they said that none of the screen names used over lapped on her profile, but it got me thinking that maybe he’s just making new names all around? I know they’ve looked into it but there wouldn’t be any doubling up on names if it’s always something new.” 

Benson nodded and Carisi nodded, which surprised you. 

“If it’s fine with you I’d like to talk to the friends of the first two victims and see if they can recall anything similar. I’m sure before they were upset - two women in such a close proximity.” You chewed on your bottom lip and waited for an answer. 

Benson nodded again. “Carisi, I’m sure you’d like to see Brooklyn again. It’s been what, six years?” 

When you arrived in front of your apartment building, Carisi hesitated to get out of the car. 

“If you want to park here that’s fine. I’ll drive. I know this area a little better than you, no offense.” 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll wait down here.” 

“Dominick, you can come upstairs. I’m literally going to grab my case files and grab my car keys, then we can go. I park on the back of the building anyway, so it’s kind of dumb for you to stand out here for no reason,” you explained, before motioning for him to follow you. 

The elevator ride up to your floor was quiet. It was weird knowing that not even 24 hours before, you had truly enjoyed being in his company and he had seemed to feel the same about you, too. He followed you down the hall and to your door, waiting as you unlocked it and turned on the lights. 

“How’d you smuggle in so much Red Sox stuff without getting your ass kicked?” He asked, noting the different posters and pictures hung around your apartment. 

You shrugged and picked up two files off of your desk. “I dunno, I guess when you’re as antisocial as I am, people think you’re weird and they don’t necessarily want to talk to you when they do see you.” 

He stood quietly by the door, absently looking through his phone. 

“Talking to your girlfriend?” you teased, part bitter and part humor. 

“Nah, my girlfriend turned out to be a liar, so I had to let her go,” he retorted. 

“That’s a shame.” You suddenly realized you hadn’t looked at your phone in a few hours. Meet and Mingle opened and you clicked on the inbox icon. 12 new messages. All from yourenodaisy. They became increasingly erratic as the time wore on. In just three hours he had gone from optimistic to meet you, to concerned you didn’t want to meet, to absolutely irate that you’d been ignoring him. His final message was the worst of all. 

ynd: I guess you are just like every other girl on here. You’re gonna end up alone, and I bet that last thing you ever see is regret.

You set your phone down and stared blankly at your lap. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I think I found him,” you said slowly. You stood up and crossed the room to give Sonny your phone. “Look. This.. could be him, right? Call TARU. I need to keep him engaged.” 

y: I’m so sorry, honestly. Please don’t think that about me, I didn’t mean to be so rude. 

ynd: Oh now you want to talk?

y: I do. I really am sorry. I got side tracked at work. I hope you’ll understand. 

Sonny waved at you silently and held up five fingers, signaling five minutes. If you could keep him chatting for five minutes you might be able to find him. 

ynd: I guess. I was worried you were like those other girls.. 

y: No, no, not at all. I was actually working on some end of the year grading for my students. I have conferences all day tomorrow and I’m a little nervous. :( 

ynd: You’re a teacher? In Brooklyn? Where do you teach? What subject? 

y: I teach History at Mill Brook. I’ve been there for four years now. 

ynd: Oh wow you’ve actually got a brain, not one of those girls who works in retail forever.. 

y: Idk, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with working in retail as long as you’ve got a job. 

ynd: Would you mind if I got your number? 

Your eyes lit up. A chance to really find the guy.

y: Sure.. it’s 7818892136

“Anything?” you asked as you closed the app.

Just then, your phone dinged to let you know you’d gotten a text message. 

Unknown Number: Hey, Y/N. It’s me. I just realized I never told you my name. 

Y: That’s okay! What’s your name so I can save your contact info? 

UN: I’m not one for giving out last names but my name is Jacob. You can call me Jake.

“Dominick, give them this number, see if it pulls anything up.” You held up the phone for him to read the number to TARU. 

Y: Thanks, Jake. I’m glad you messaged me. You seem pretty nice. 

“It matches text messages sent to and from all three phones, Y/N.” Carisi looked somewhat anxious before he hung up the phone. “It’s a burner. They’re gonna track the bodega where he bought it at and try to get footage of their security cameras if they have any.” 

Your phone rang a moment later and it was Captain Walker. “Benson and I both agreed that it’s best if you and Detective Carisi stay grounded for a little while, until we can figure out whether this could be our guy or not. I’ll let you know when we find something out.” 

You looked at Carisi and sighed. “What kind of takeout do you want?” 

[sleeplesspensieve]

Remedy for Guilt - XII

Summary: The daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange is a Healer who finds herself not only haunted by her past but also questioning her choice in career. When Lyra Lestrange’s old headmaster offers her a position as Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher she finds herself thrown into an adventure involving a secret affair with a colleague, discovering the cure for a disease and dealing with students cursing themselves. Who knew that being a Hogwarts Professor was such a rollercoaster?

Set in the school year of 1990-1991 with the prospect of a sequel, or two, on the horizon.

Rated: E for graphic sex scenes in THIS and later chapters. Over 18′s only please.

Word Count: 4927

Multichapter Fic (Expected to be around 30-35 chapters with a planned sequel which will take place during the Harry Potter Books)

Chapter Twelve – Discoveries

Deep in the dungeons in the Head of Slytherin’s living quarters a young witch stirred in her sleep, her movement woke up the wizard whose arms were wrapped around her. The man was confused by the naked warmth that lay against his body. After a few blinks he registered that the tangled mess of black hair and sleeping figure belonged to none other than his colleague, Lyra Lestrange.

Severus eyes drifted shut; his expression was strained as his thoughts drifted onto the night prior. He had spent his birthday bedding the young witch that slept against him then he was crying in her arms. As he recalled what he had said his first instinct was to get out of that bed, replace his and her clothes and pretend that nothing had happened. For a moment he even considered obliviating her, how could he face her each day knowing that she knew some of his deepest secrets?

As soon as the thought passed through his mind his heart dismissed it. It was telling him he could trust her, that it was ok to open up to her. He felt at peace as he felt her curled up next to him, he allowed his arms to remain holding her. The warmth that she radiated made him reluctant to leave his bed. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling, not knowing how long this would last.

Severus’ thoughts weren’t allowed to wander too far as Lyra soon found herself awake too. She smiled fondly as she rolled over and faced him. “Morning,” she hummed her hand rested on his chest. “Have you been up long?”

He shook his head no. “Classes will start in two hours,” he said.

She nodded in acknowledgement. “Did you sleep well?”

Their conversation made Severus feel as though he had woken up in an alternate reality, that Lyra was his wife and that she would soon be rolling out of bed to make them breakfast. The thought warmed his heart but he knew it wasn’t a possibility. He simply nodded in response to her question.

The responses he had given caused Lyra to feel concern. “Sev,” she said, her hand reached up and stroked his cheek. “Everything you told me last night I will never breathe a word of to anyone. You can trust me.”

“What do you feel guilty about?” he asked.

Lyra paused for a moment, questioning whether or not she should divulge the truth or not. As a gesture of good faith she decided to do so. “A lot of things,” she frowned, her hand retreated to her side as she began to explain. “I guess the guilt started when Albus made me work in the Hospital Wing and I had to treat that girl that I almost killed. While I was there I could see that I could put my talents to better use so I tried which is how I got into healing, I thought it could be my way of redeeming myself for all I had done but I think it fucked me even more. When I started at St. Mungo’s my first rotation as a Trainee Healer was in the ward for those with permanent spell damage and I saw the Longbottom couple that I tortured along with my parents and Uncle Rab and Barty. I saw their son visit and he would’ve been Draco’s age. I couldn’t sleep. I kept dreaming of them screaming and losing their minds. I felt so guilty for inflicting that on them.”

“You were there?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she sighed as she began to recount, “I had just gotten back from my first year from Durmstrang. My parents were upset that the Dark Lord had fallen and they knew that there were Aurors tracking down his whereabouts so they captured the Longbottom couple. Mum wanted to teach me how to use the Cruciatus Curse properly so they all showed me and gave me pointers on how to do it effectively to cause the most pain. It went on for hours until they were completely incoherent. Eventually my parents were captured and you know the rest.”

“Did you actually torture Karkaroff?” he questioned. Lyra nodded reluctantly, not wanting to admit the cruelty of what she did to the reformed Death Eater that lay with her. His curiousity got the better of him as he asked, “Why did you do it?”

“I was 13, Sev, first day of my third year at school and Karkaroff is introduced as the new Headmaster. I had heard his name mentioned by Uncle Lucius and my parents when I had visited them. Whatever he had done made them angry but they believed that the Dark Lord would return and impart justice. I later asked my Uncle directly what he had done and he told me that in exchange for the names of several Death Eaters he was allowed to walk free. I was so angry that he was living in comfort whilst my parents rotted in Azkaban. I didn’t believe that the Dark Lord would return so I decided to give my own justice.”

“I spent months plotting my revenge. I didn’t want to kill him, no, I wanted him to suffer and I had learnt from the best on how to torture people. I thought it was fitting that I used the skills they had been imprisoned for as a method to carry out my revenge on their behalf. I snuck into his quarters while he slept and I placed a silencing barrier up so no one could hear him and another so we wouldn’t be disturbed. I woke him using the Cruciatus Curse, you should’ve seen his face of terror on his face when he realised it was me. I used the Cruciatus Curse on him for hours and I revelled in it but I was only young, I didn’t have enough magical energy to maintain my torture but I think it stopped him from going insane like the Longbottoms. It went on for about 12 hours before they found us.”

“He was in hospital for only a week and during that time I went to trial. I had the best defence lawyer money could afford and a bulletproof defence. How could I, a child of 13 years, raised by Death Eaters, be responsible for my actions? I was a product of my environment and going to Durmstrang would reinforce the use of the Dark Arts so they gave me a slap on the wrist and sent me to Hogwarts. I think it worked to an extent, most witches and wizards involved in the Dark Arts during my year were pathetic anyway I just got caught up with showing off my skill and that’s how I nearly killed that girl. I did feel bad for her to an extent and I think Albus exploited that which is how I ended up in Healing. Who knows where I would be now if he hadn’t forced me to work in the Hospital Wing? I’d probably be out there trying to raise the Dark Lord back to power.”

Lyra’s description of events terrified Severus. It was evident that she was truly the daughter of Bellatrix and Rodopholus Lestrange.  The thought of Lyra pursuing the Dark Arts further was disturbing. He knew that she was an extremely talented witch with a thirst for knowledge, he was thankful that it had been channelled into a more meaningful pursuit. He wondered where her loyalties would lie if the Dark Lord did return. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

“It’s been what, ten years this year?” she said, “I don’t think so. I went and saw my mum on Christmas Day and she seems to still think so but I think it’s just to maintain her sanity, not that there’s much left. What do you think?”

“I have the same doubts,” he replied, shaking his head, “Albus seems to think he will.”

Lyra’s hand drifted out and reached out for his left arm. Severus flinched at first but her fingers delicately traced the lines of his Dark Mark. “It’s so faded,” she said as she thought back to when she would touch her mother or father’s tattoo. “You’ll be one of the first to know.”

Severus watched as she seemed lost in her thoughts, her fingers still stroking his tattoo. “Lyra,” he said, bringing her back to the present. “We should get up, we have classes to teach.”

She frowned, “Can’t we just stay in bed.”

“It’s too suspicious if we both call in sick,” he said.

“Can I get my panties back?” she asked with a hopeful look.

“I’m definitely keeping them,” he said amused, “Better hurry back to your quarters if you want to wear any today.”

She glared at him as she climbed out of bed and got dressed. He remained in bed and watched as she hid her naked body away from view. “I’ll see you around,” she said as she found her way out.

As Lyra reached the Grand Staircase to begin her ascension to the third floor she saw a concerned Professor McGonagall quickly stepping down.

“Oh, Lyra,” she said, not missing a beat, “You best come with me, something serious has happened. I need to speak with Severus.”

Lyra followed as they headed back to where she had just left. Minerva knocked on the door and Severus opened it immediately, allowing the two witches to enter his office.

“I have terrible news, Severus,” Minerva said, “Marcus Flint had a seizure at breakfast this morning. Poppy thinks it’s Psyrot. He’s been placed in a potion-induced sleep for now but she think he’ll have to go off to St. Mungo’s.”

“I’ll contact his parents,” Severus replied.

“I don’t know how it went undetected,” Minerva said.

“He probably got it when he was on break and it’s just gone unnoticed,” Lyra said, “I know Poppy listed all those symptoms but he might’ve just not had any until now.”

Minerva shook her head, “In any case, we need to be more aware. We all need to keep a look out.”

“Of course,” Severus said.

Lyra remained silent as the two discussed the course of action. She completely tuned out, her head beginning to spin with thoughts. This was the first distinguishable case of Psyrot, with it would come many more. Students would begin to flood the Hospital Wing at the slightest sniffle which probably wasn’t so bad but she knew that Severus and herself would have to keep up with potion requests. They had made around 100 bottles which was about a sixth of the school’s population, if half the students thought they were sick then they’d run out rather quickly.

“Lyra,” Severus said, bringing her attention back to the present, “We’ll probably have to make more Pepper Up Potion.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking slightly dazed, “I was just thinking about that.”

“We’ll brew some more tonight,” he informed her, “Wouldn’t want to run out.”

“Of course,” she said, “I’ll see you after dinner.”

Lyra left with Minerva, Severus needed to write a quick letter to Marcus Flint’s parents. The two made their way up silently, waving in and out of students and carefully following the staircases as they moved about. Lyra found herself alone with Minerva as the set they were on slowly moved.

“So, Lyra,” Minerva began, “What were you doing at Severus’ office so early?”

“Just wanted to check in on him before we had classes,” Lyra lied, “I had a present for his birthday.”

“But his birthday was yesterday,” Minerva’s eyes narrowed as she felt she had caught her. “You and Severus seem awfully close, particularly after the Founding Ball.”

“I’ve known Severus since I was a kid,” Lyra shrugged, “You know, cause my parents were Death Eaters, just like he was. My Uncle is a close friend of his, in fact he even came over for Christmas Dinner.”

“It seems to be more than just that,” Minerva said, “I think there’s something going on between you two.”

“Really?” Lyra’s eyebrows raised in fake surprise. “News to me.”

Lyra was thankful when the staircase finally connected to the landing of the third floor, she said a hurried goodbye, excusing herself from their conversation. Unfortunately for her, Lyra had ran out of time to change her clothes and her students were all lined up ready to enter her classroom. She reluctantly welcomed them all in and began her lesson.

It was surprisingly easy for Lyra to keep her composure, despite the fact that she didn’t have any underwear on. After a while she didn’t seem to notice, her thoughts were more preoccupied on the fact that no one had been paying attention to the content of her lessons. Had she become boring? To be fair everyone was still rather shaken from what they had seen at breakfast this morning. Lyra was over the constant gossiping half way through second period and threatened to deduct house points if they continued their disruption. This tactic seemed to work as they focused on the Hinkypunk she showed them and explained the methods of combating it.

Lyra had hoped to duck off during the break that she had between the second and third period but she saw that two students had stayed behind. Both were Slytherin boys on the Quidditch team who she recognised as Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick. Usually she’d be keen to answer questions from eager students but she knew that these two boys in particular had a tendency to cause trouble and weren’t particularly engaged in her class. They approached her desk as the rest of the class were filing out.

“Professor Lestrange,” Derrick addressed the teacher. She raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement so the boy continued, “We were wondering if you knew anything about Marcus? We were supposed to have Quidditch practice tonight.”

Lyra sighed, “I recommend you speak with Professor Snape.”

Derrick went to answer but he was interrupted by his friend. The blonde haired boy sneezed hard, not covering his mouth, and Lyra felt her face become wet with the boy’s mucus. She wiped her face with a hand as she had no tissues at hand and glared up at the boy who was now shaking in his boots at the look his Professor was giving.

“Merlin’s beard,” she glowered, “Did your mother teach you any manners. Go to the hospital wing now.”

The two boys darted off embarrassed that Bole had just sneezed into the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor’s face. Lyra’s untainted hand reached for her wand and went to clean up both her face and hand but she looked closer at her hand. She felt very subtle movement on her hand and as her face neared it she saw tiny dots in amongst the mucus as well as one small worm wriggling. From sight she knew that this parasite must’ve been the cause of Psyrot but she needed to research it further. She summoned a glass vial and scooped mucus that landed on her hand, attempting to coax the worm and its eggs into the tube. She cast a stasis charm on the contents, hoping that it would prevent the eggs from hatching and the worm from dying and she put it away in her office.

Lyra sat at her desk and began to brainstorm on a stray piece of paper the known workings of the disease. On one side of the right hand side of the paper she listed the known symptoms and then on the left she wrote the words parasite and mucus. The fact that it was spread through mucus ruled out the gastrointestinal tract, the symptoms didn’t align with respiratory so the logical conclusion was the brain? She wasn’t convinced but it made sense. Pepper up would increase the body’s temperature and could potentially destroy the integrity of the worm’s body but only up to a certain point which was why they couldn’t cure it once it had reached the second or third stage. She wasn’t entirely sure why Sleeping Draught worked during the second stage and it wouldn’t in the third stage. She knew during the third stage it was the body’s own immune response that would kill the host so maybe the Sleeping Draught prevented the development of the worms to cause destruction to trigger the immune response. There were still a lot of missing pieces of information but now that Lyra had a sample of the parasite responsible she was confident that she could develop a cure for it.

Lyra heard her next class enter and she rushed down to teach but her mind was still curious about the parasite she had found. Over her lunch break she made her way to the library and was pouring over books about parasites and worms, as well as recapping historically relevant illnesses. Madam Pince was reluctant to lend so many books out to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, particularly as they weren’t relevant to her subject but Lyra managed to convince her after laying on the charm which was a difficult feat as Lyra hadn’t had the best reputation during her years of study.

Lyra placed aside the books, hoping that she would get to them over the weekend as her night would be taken up by brewing potions with Severus. The final two classes for the day seemed to drag on as looked forward to sharing her discovery with the Potions Master. Her eagerness to leave was not lost on her students as she was in fact the first to leave her classroom. She stopped by the staffroom to grab a quick bite for herself and Severus for dinner and she rushed down to the dungeons.

“I wasn’t expecting you so early,” Severus said as he answered the door.

“I have exciting news,” she beamed, bouncing into his office.

Severus prompted her to go on, taking one of the plates she had set out for him.

“I have discovered the cause of Psyrot,” she announced, “Of course, I still need to test my theory but I think I can work up a cure.” Severus listened and ate as Lyra detailed her discovery. As she spoke he felt a great deal of respect and admiration towards her as she was rambling about her theories.

Severus was beginning to realise that he saw Lyra as so much more than Lucius’ niece that needed a close watch, she was beginning to become her own person. Lyra, unlike her parents, was kind and had a passion for caring for people which was evident in the way that she had treated him and her desire to find a cure for this disease. He thought of the way students and staff spoke about her, they all admired her despite the reputation she had gained as a student.

“So, I just need to confirm it is this parasite,” she continued, “Then I’ll need to figure out how to kill it without harming the host and then I’ll write up a report and I’ll be published then my healing career could take off and you never know I might be the one to discover the cure for Lycanthropy, I just hope no one else beats me to it. Why are you smiling at me?”

Severus didn’t realise that he was smiling at her, he laughed it off. “You recall how early in the term you said you don’t know where Dumbledore gets these teachers from?” he asked, “You’re acting exactly like everyone else.”

Her eyes narrowed at the Potions Master’s amusement before smiling as well, “I suppose you’re right.”

Lyra helped herself to the dinner she had brought for the two of them and they caught up briefly over the food before they headed into his classroom to begin brewing. They worked mainly in silence, intending to work efficiently and quickly as possible as Lyra was itching to return back to her room in order to study the books that she had borrowed. It took them a few hours but they finished up at around 10pm, leaving her time to do a bit of reading before she’d settle for bed.

“Did you want to enjoy a glass of wine with me?” he asked.

She smiled and her plans of reading were quickly forgotten as she accepted his offer. The pair moved on to his quarters, thankful that it was past curfew and that no students would see them sneaking around. Lyra probably brought enough suspicion upon herself that morning as she was leaving his quarters so early. The cosied up to the fireplace and cracked into a bottle of elf-made wine. The two began to gossip about the students that they shared and how their attitudes differed in their classrooms.

“How is Marcus Flint fairing?” she asked.

“His parents came to take him to St. Mungo’s this morning,” he replied, “Hopefully they can help them there but I’m not sure what more they can offer as they know as much about Psyrot as we do.”

“Maybe someone’s already discovered a cure?”

“How did you figure out that it was a parasite?” he asked.

“Bole and Derrick spoke to me after class asking about Flint and whether or not they’d have practice,” she recounted, “Bole then proceeded to sneeze on my face and noticed that in the flecks of mucus he left behind that there seemed to be eggs and I spotted a small worm crawling.”

“Wonderful,” Severus said.

“Obviously, I’ll need to test other students to see if it holds true,” she said, “Then there’ll be a lot more work to go but it’s achievable. Do you think I should credit them if I write a report?”

“You shouldn’t give either of them any credit,” he said, “They are both complete imbeciles.”

Lyra laughed at his response, her head shook in disapproval but a smile was still plain on her lips. Severus watched her as she pressed her lips against the cool of her glass as though she was hiding her face away from embarrassment. His gaze caught hers and she smiled forming wrinkles around her eyes as well as a twinkle within. That smile was so precious that he wanted to keep it locked in his memory forever.

Lyra’s eyes cast down as if staring at Severus was like staring at the sun. She felt her heart ache in want and her cheeks were flushed. She attempted to blame the feelings on the alcohol she had been drinking but in her heart she knew that her Uncle was right. That she was in fact falling in love with Severus Snape.  

The thoughts and feelings were uncomfortable and unfamiliar to Lyra. No one had ever made her feel this way, her heart was racing but her breathing slow. She felt faint and dizzy, she finally knew what people meant when they said they had butterflies in their stomach and her stomach was in knots. She had crushes before but this was a completely different ball game, it was almost as though every single one of her crushes came to confront her all at once. The feeling made her nauseous and she didn’t know whether it was because she felt this particular way or whether she was terrified about the consequences of her feelings.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned that the look of joy had fleeted and was replaced by an expression of illness. She shook her head dismissively and he asked once more.

“I feel strange,” she said, her eyebrows strained.

“Are you sick?” he asked, rushing to his feet.

She laughed, “I think it’s much worse than that.”

“What?”

She shook her head and sighed, pushing her feelings aside, “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t make me use Legilimency on you,” he threatened.

“I know better than to let my guard down around you,” she smiled, “I think I’m just tipsy and tired.”

“Time for bed,” he said as he removed her glass and placed it on the table. Lyra took his hand as he pulled her up, escorting her to the bed.

“Can we shower first?” she asked. “I haven’t bathed since yesterday and I feel pretty gross.”

“Are you wearing underwear, Miss Lestrange?” he asked.

“Don’t call me that,” she said, “It makes me feel like a schoolgirl about to get a detention.”

“We should try that one time,” he smirked.

“Are you going to bend me over your desk and spank me?”His eyebrows raised in agreement and Lyra laughed, “When was the last time you were laid?”

“I shagged this beautiful witch last night,” he said his arms wrapped around her and he cornered her against a nearby wall. “I stole her panties then she went the whole day without them.” He slid his hand down the front of her skirt, underneath the material and touched her naked sex. “Sound familiar?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip before she bit it. “You don’t know how much I want you, Lyra,” he whispered into her ear.

“I have an idea,” she said, her hand made its his crotch and the palm of her hand ground into it.

“Don’t tease me, Lestrange,” he warned, his breath hot against her lips. She kissed him hard and fast, her hands quickly unbuttoned his vest and his removed her clothes, parting to pull her top over her head.

“Why the fuck do you have so many buttons?” she groaned as she discarded his vest and got to work on the button up that was hidden underneath.

“To frustrate witches like you,” he said, undoing her bra and getting to work on her nipples.

She moaned, struggling to maintain concentrating on working her fingers around the buttons. Eventually he was free from his upper garments and her lips moved onto his neck as her hands fumbled clumsily with his pants.

“Don’t leave marks on me,” he said as she began to suck and bite where she was kissing. It was too late for his warning and she didn’t care. Her lips just moved down to his chest where she continued to make her mark.

“Lyra,” he groaned as her hand gripped around his cock and began to slowly pump and tease. His fingers looped around the band of her skirt and pulled it down. A finger dipped beneath the folds and once assuring she was wet enough his hands gripped onto the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up so her hips were on his. He pressed her body against the wall behind her and held her there as he manipulated his cock to slide deep into her.

Severus’ hips bucked up into hers eliciting a small moan from Lyra with every thrust as he fucked her against the wall. His hands gripped her thighs and her ass hard as he pounded into her. Lyra’s arms were wrapped around his neck, one hand buried into his hair whilst the other held onto his back for leverage. Her eyes connected with Severus for a moment and she could see the lust that was swirling around in his dark orbs. His eyes flicked down, watching her breasts bounce and his cock slide in and out of her sex. The sight alone made him groan hard as he felt the tension in his balls grow.

Lyra too watched what he was focused on, the sight of him plunging in and out was erotic. Severus Snape is fucking me against a wall. The thoughts, the feelings and the sight was enough to drive her over the edge. She grabbed a hold of him tighter, her nails began to dig into his back as she came hard. As the tension began to release for her, so did it for Severus. He came inside her, his thrust slowed and he pressed Lyra harder against the wall as his body relaxed, scared she was going to slip.

He let her down slowly and the two wordlessly headed to the bathroom. Both too tired to stand they settled for the bath again. Severus urged her to sit on his side, on his lap this time, returning the favour from last time. She relaxed into his embrace and allowed her eyes to drift shut for a moment.

Severus allowed the exhausted witch to sleep for a few moments, enjoying the comfort of her body against his. He rested his head against hers and noticed the smell of her hair, lavender like a sleeping draught. Maybe that’s why he felt so peaceful, like he could sleep again. His thoughts were no longer strained with his failures, instead they were calm and restful. He felt as though Lyra anchored him down, he was no longer worried about the future or what was to come because he felt that if he had Lyra by his side that everything would work out. He knew he trusted her and he believed that as she slept in his arms surrounded by a pool of water that her vulnerability was also a gesture of trust.

Ten minutes passed of Lyra sleeping and he gently nudged her awake, knowing that if she slept any longer that she would have difficulty sleeping. She was half asleep as she washed herself so Severus helped her scrub her back. He ushered her out once they were done and made herself dry thoroughly after a lazy attempt. When they moved onto bed Lyra quickly fell back asleep and Severus had no difficulties as she curled up against his chest.

[loyalty2waystreet]

Guilty (Of Love in the First Degree)

Suits100 prompt #98 ~ Written by Loyalty2WayStreet

- Donna goes all lawyer on Mike or Harvey and puts her case forward, proving that they love each other.

Rated M.

Harvey doesn’t do sentimental.  He enjoys trophies, yes.  Objects that show off who he knows or what he’s achieved.  He doesn’t exactly parade around advertising that he’s wealthy, that would be crass, but you can tell by looking at him that he indulges in the finer things in life. Birthday and Christmas cards, love letters from Scottie when they were at Harvard, old tickets to Yankees’ games, it’s all clutter to Harvey.  He likes his life organised and free of all the crap. Harvey also preaches that caring only makes you weak and that he himself is all business.  He knows it’s not entirely true.  He does care about his family, about Jessica, Donna and Louis.  He cared about Mike too; he liked the kid, he felt like Mike just got him.  Well, that was until he went and betrayed him and sided with Jessica. Now all he felt was pissed at him. Admittedly, Mike had tried everything short of grovelling on his knees to get back into Harvey’s good books, even bribing the likes of Benjamin and Jessica.  But what Mike had done cut him deep, and although he didn’t understand why he wanted to punish him, he knew that he did, and Harvey could be colder than the Arctic Circle when he wanted to be.

Read more on AO3 here.

If Mike were an actual puppy his ears would have been dragging along the corridors of Pearson Darby for the last few days.  Even Donna, despite being a little biased, could see both sides of the story.  Yes, Mike had made the wrong call, but he made it without all the information.  Information that Harvey hadn’t supplied.  So, while she was firmly Team Harvey on this one, she did feel sorry for the puppy who looked more kicked every time she laid eyes on him.

It finally seemed as though Mike had accepted the rift between them, and moved on.  Maybe he gave up a little too quickly in Harvey’s opinion, but that thought was between him and Miles Davis.  He kicks his feet up on the desk, quite satisfied that no-one has barged into his office uninvited for at least 24 hours.  Louis is loitering outside with Donna, whispering like they were back in school.  Harvey flicks the switch on his intercom and hears Donna’s accusing voice, ripping Louis a new one for putting the moves on Mike behind his back, and Louis denying it before he flicks the switch off again.  Donna’s got this covered.

Only a minute or so later he realises that Donna’s failed to contain the situation because Louis is in his office, smelling of sausage and doing his usual agitated jig before he gets the courage to ask for something, usually sliding more toward the insane end of the scale.  Harvey throws Donna the ‘What the hell do I pay you for?’ look. “I want to ask Mike to be my associate?”  Louis blurts.

Harvey smirks, not the evil smirk, the ‘I’m superior’ one, and he watches Louis press his lips together to keep himself from saying something that could derail his carefully assembled proposal. “You can ask him, Louis, but I doubt Mike’s into slavery.” “I’m not some kind of animal, Harvey!”  Louis bursts before clamping his lips together again, looking peeved at having taken the bait.  Harvey’s eyebrows raise in amusement, shit-eating grin taunting Louis.  What can he say?  It makes his day riling Louis up, but today he has work to get done.

“Louis, if Mike even wants to be your associate, which I doubt, you’re welcome to him.” “So… I have your permission?  No backsies, deal’s a deal?” “Louis, you have my blessing.”  Then why all of a sudden is his mouth so goddamn dry? “Yes!”  Louis hisses, pumping his fist.  Of course, Louis would celebrate a victory that was a sure thing by being a schmuck.  He’s strutting toward the door when he does an elaborate spin, pulling a neatly folded letter from his pocket.

“Oh, and seeing as though I’m saving Mike from you, I won’t be needing this,” Louis smarms, placing Mike’s resignation letter in front of Harvey with a flourish.

“Maybe this will remind you of what an ass you can be,” he declares petulantly, then shuffles out of the office leaving Harvey staring at Mike’s signature at the bottom of a resignation letter he didn’t even know existed, until now. It hit him then.  Hard.  Mike was prepared to quit over this.

They are done.  All the good times he’d had playing Batman to Mike’s Robin, the way he only felt comfortable enough around Mike to open up about his family, how much he admired and loved the challenge of Mike’s mind, and being the reason that Mike laughed.  Gone.

Had he overreacted?  Was he being a prick about it? His morose thoughts were interrupted by Donna quietly entering the room and settling opposite him, her face a picture of understanding.  Harvey’s poker face might be legendary, and to anyone else he might be able to hide the turmoil he’s feeling, but Donna’s no idiot. “You don’t have to let him go; you’re allowed to change your mind, Harvey.” Harvey straightened his shoulders and gave her a nod.  "Thank you, Donna, but I don’t want to talk about it.“  Usually, that was all it took, a clear dismissal in hopes that she’d understand that he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, or that he was happy to pretend he didn’t have any. "Well, I do!”  She said crossing her arms over her chest and fixing him with a stare.  “I know you care about him much more than you let on, and quite frankly I’m sick of you moping about these past few days.” Harvey saw red, he doesn’t mope.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath until the anger was replaced with a nonchalant directness.

“Donna, that’s enough.  I have work to do.” “Fine,” she retorted, standing up briskly.  “You can’t admit you care.  That’s okay because I have proof!” “You don’t have shit!”  Or does she?  His brain supplies.  No, he kept his caring to a minimum.  Old habits die hard and all. “So, if I can prove beyond a reasonable doubt that you care about him, you’ll make up with him?”  She’s leaning over his desk now, eyebrows raised in a challenge and an unnerving glint in her eyes. “Absolutely.”  He beams a bright, ‘I’m not scared of you, sweetheart’ smile at her, “Because you, have diddly squat!” “Deal.”  They shook hands, smirking at each other.

“I’ll gather my evidence and present it along with your morning coffee, tomorrow,” she proposed, turning on her heels. “I’m busy.” “No, you’re not.  Your 9 am asked to see Mike specifically, not you.  So, I rescheduled them to tonight over dinner.”  She smiled like an assassin. Harvey grimaced.  But only because he was out of excuses, not because the client Mike was seeing was stunning, and had been flirty and handsy with him every time they’d had meetings in the past. “Fine,” he snapped.  “Now out, I have work to do.”

He’s sitting in the conference room still ruminating on what Ava had just said to him about her number two, Nick.

“But he did it for his own survival.”

“He still did it,”  Harvey had argued.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss him.

He looks up just as Mike walks past and he knows, he can’t keep this up much longer.  Mike might have done the wrong thing, but Ava’s right, he did it for his own survival.  

His thoughts of Mike dissipate at the sight of Donna exiting the elevator with an evidence box, and it’s now about three hours after she left the office.  He’s under no misconceptions that when he goes home tonight, there will be something delicious cooking in his oven that she’s made either before or after the snooping happened.  If there were something there to be found, she’d sniff it out.  She’s resourceful like that, something Harvey has always admired about her.

Most people would be uncomfortable with their secretary going through their home, but then again, most people didn’t consider their secretary to be their closest family.  Donna is his best friend, she knows him better than anyone else, even Jessica, and he trusts her judgement even when she has landed them in hot water.

They tried the ‘more than friends’ route once.  It was an unmitigated disaster that was never spoken of ever again, and since that day Donna was 100% behind Harvey being with anyone but her, and preferably with someone who had a dick.  Yep, the ‘more than friends’ outing had made that preference abundantly clear.

He speeds up his steps, catching up and falling into stride with her.

“What’s in the box?”  He asked attentively, giving her a killer smile.

“Nah ah,” she said, adjusting her grip on the box, “you’ll just have to wait and see, pretty boy.”

She gave him a cheeky look as she placed the box on her desk.  Harvey rolled his eyes.

“Fine, what’s in my oven then?”

“Shepherd’s Pie, your favourite.  Now scoot, you need be across town in 30 minutes.”

She turned his shoulders toward the elevator like he was a kid and gave him a poke.

Harvey’s stomach rumbled.  “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I have a feeling you’re going to want to strangle me tomorrow,” she stated.

“Yeah?  Wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?”

Harvey sleeps terribly for the fourth night in a row.  He’d thought he could sweep his emotions under the rug, ignore the pounding of his heart when Mike walked by his office, and just get on with it.  He thought they would be back on track by now, but after seeing Mike’s resignation letter, he felt uneasy.

He’s at work by six.  He may as well work if he can’t sleep.  At 7.30am, Donna strolls into his office with a puzzled-looking Mike in tow.  She places the evidence box and tray of coffees on his desk and points Mike to the couch. “Sit,” she directs, then turns on Harvey, “you too.” “Donna-” “No, I’m presenting this evidence to both of you, so unless you want Mike sitting in your lap?”

Harvey makes a face, whether it’s to cover up that he’d love Mike in his lap, or that he despises being told what to do, is debatable.  He stays where he is, out of protest.

“Harvey,” Donna chides, moving her eyes from him to the direction of the couch and back again.

It was like watching a Western movie, where two gunslingers had a stare down before one shot the other.  Mike sat and watched in silence, knowing full well that Harvey might be the best closer in New York, but Donna feared no man, least of all her best friend.

“You agreed to this,” she reminds him, tapping her finger against the Dictaphone. “And I’d let you back out because I love your ass, but aren’t you just the least bit curious?” She’s baiting him, and they all know it.

“Curious about what?” Mike asked, still completely lost.  Eyes flicking from Donna to Harvey.

“Fine!”  Harvey conceded grumpily, crossing the room and thunking ungracefully down on the couch next to Mike.

“Harvey, what’s this abo-“

“ORDER!” Donna belts out, cutting Mike off and making him straighten in surprise.  Now that she has their attention she clears her throat and begins the proceedings.

“We are gathered here today… no, wait,” she chuckles, delighted at the death rays Harvey is shooting her, “oops, wrong officiary.”  She smirks at Harvey, and he gives her an over-exaggerated eye roll for her troubles.  Mike looks like one of those show clowns that swallow balls, head swinging back and forth between them, with his mouth open, wondering what the hell is happening.

Mike only catches up when Donna poses her first question.

“Harvey, on the charge of caring about one Mike Ross, how do you plead?”

“Not Guilty,” Harvey answers with a bored tone.

“That’s a bit harsh,” Mike mumbles to himself.  He can see that Harvey doesn’t bother hiding the slightly guilty look at having answered so quickly.

“Burn,” Donna snorts, looking back and forth between them before snapping back into character.

“Please take the stand,” she says, motioning to the chair at the end of the couch, “and state your full name for the record.”

Harvey crossed his arms over his chest, much like an insolent child.  “Please, spare us the dramatics.”

“Objection!  How dare you sir, I am a lady of the theatre,” she gasps, sounding faux affronted, while gracefully swanning her arms around in an over the top manner.

“Now before I find you in contempt, please sit as instructed, raise your right hand and pretend you have a bible.”

“Jesus Christ,” Harvey mutters under his breath, sitting in the seat and raising his hand as demanded by Her Highness.  It’s always amused Mike how much Harvey listens to and lets Donna get away with; he’s almost jealous of how close they are.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“Sure,” Harvey shrugged, giving the answer no weight at all.

“It’s ‘I do’ Harvey,” Mike interjects gleefully, “Do you have a problem with those two little words?”

Harvey fixes him with a look that is supposed to be withering, but Mike just finds it hot, as he voices the words, ‘I do’, staring right into Mike’s soul.  And the bastard doesn’t even look mad anymore; he appears sincere.

The sound of Mike swallowing could be heard from the bullpen.

“I move to strike the heart eyes from the record; the defendant is clearly trying to coerce my witness,” Donna interrupts, breaking them out of a staring competition bordering on eye sex, that neither of them had been expecting.

“Coerce him into what exactly, prosecutor?”  Harvey asks.

Without skipping a beat, Donna grabs her air guitar as she sings, “Bow chicka wow wow,” grinning from ear to ear as the tip of both Harvey and Mike’s ears turn pink.  Harvey, of course, recovers first.

“Are you about done?  How about the prosecutor makes her case before Paramount pictures get their shit together, and make a ‘Top Gun’ sequel?”

“That’d be awesome,” Mike whispers, and Donna play shoots him death rays.

Ignoring them both, Donna walks over to the record collection and selects one from a middle shelf.

“Directing your attention to People’s Exhibit A in evidence, can you tell the Court what Exhibit A is?”  She points her finger at the record dramatically.

“My Arctic Monkeys record?”  

“Does my witness also recognise Exhibit A?”  she asks Mike, handing it to him for inspection.

Mike honestly hasn’t seen it since he gave it to Harvey but he notices now how worn and well used it is, and he feels a familiar warmth spread through his chest.  “Sure, I gave it to Harvey after my first year here.”

Donna smiles warmly at Mike, and Mike sees now why he’s here.  Donna is showing him that all isn’t lost, that he needs to make Harvey understand how sorry he is because Harvey does care.

“Harvey, would you say this is your type of music?”

“No.”

Mike rolls his eyes at him and stage whispers ‘old man.’

“But you like this particular record, right?” Donna continues.

“I disagree, I tolerate it,” Harvey replies.  Although, yeah.  He has grown to like it.

“If you only tolerate it, as you say, then why do I have these?”  Donna whips out her cell and presses play.  It’s Harvey singing ‘Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new’, recorded through the intercom.

It’s not that he’s a bad singer, in fact, he held the tune nicely.  It’s that she had to record THAT line, the line that deeply resonated with him that first time he’d listened to it.  Plus, once was bad enough, but the evil genius had caught him singing it three times, and the record wasn’t even playing in the background the last time.

Mike’s grin is wider than the Atlantic, and he looks happier than Louis does after a prunie.

“Objection, irrelevant.”  That’s all Harvey can come up with at this point because another line of that song, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you.  I don’t know if you feel the same as I do, but we could be together, if you wanted to,’ is invading his thoughts.  And now he’s staring at Mike’s lips.

“Irrelevant?  You, singing a song from an album that Mike gave you, and specifically that line, over and over until even I was sick of it, is irrelevant?  How so?”

Donna learned from the best, press until it hurts.

“It just is,” Harvey replies grumpily, emphatically mouthing ‘enough.’  She sees it and makes a heart with her fingers and points back at him.

“Take notes, Mike,” Donna says sweetly, “‘It just is,’ is Harvey’s go to defence when he knows his goose is cooked.”

Harvey scowls and draws a heart in the air with his middle finger, then flips her the bird.  Mike covers his face, containing a laugh.

“Moving on,” Donna dictates, “Directing your attention to People’s Exhibit B in evidence, can you tell the Court what Exhibit B is?”  she asks, motioning for a confused Harvey to stand up.  She digs her hand into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet.

“Objection, the prosecutor is feeling me up,” Harvey teases, smirking at Mike.

“Pfft. Overruled,” Donna laughs. “Said prosecutor, would have the good sense to knead your butt cheeks if she were going to grope you!  Now please resume your seat and answer the goddamned question.”

Bossy Boots,  Harvey thinks as he straightens his jacket and takes his seat.

“This is your wallet, correct?”

“No, that’s my decoy wallet in case I get robbed,” Harvey replies sarcastically.

Donna groans, and recites in a robot-like manner, “The jury will disregard the heavy sarcasm, let the record reflect that this is, in fact, your wallet.”

“What record?” Mike asks, looking around the room for a hidden camera like he’s on a reality television show.

Donna points innocently to the Dictaphone on the coffee table between them.

“You’re recording this?”  Harvey asks.  And wow, his voice was about three octaves higher than usual.

“Duh, I’ll probably use it at your wed-”

“Please proceed,” Harvey interjects, deliberately cutting her off, “I don’t have all day for this!”

“Geesh, okay.  Now, as the prosecutor was saying before the defendant got his panties in a bunch, is it fair to say that you are aware of the contents of your wallet?”

“Yes,” Harvey confirms, throwing his hand into the air in frustration.

“Hmmm,” she hums, opening the wallet, “Aww, this is a cute photo of you two,” she says sweetly, showing Mike the printed-out selfie of him and Harvey on Mike’s couch, the night they’d gotten stoned.  Heat blossoms on both Mike and Harvey’s cheeks, because they do look very cosy in the picture, and in all honesty, Mike had forgotten it existed.  He wants a copy now though.

“Is there a question here, counsellor?”

“Nope,” Donna exclaims, beaming, “it’s just a sweet photo of you two, which happens to be in your wallet, that you carry around with you everywhere.”

“Oh, wait!”  Donna adds like she’s just remembered something but quite clearly had this planned from the get go.  She grabs the wallet back off Mike and gives Harvey a wink.

“Mike, do you recognise this?”  She holds the object up to Mike, just out of Harvey’s view, so he has to crane his neck to try to see.

Mike bursts out laughing and takes it from Donna.  He looks over at Harvey, holding up the Pearson Darby business card bearing his name.  Only this card has ‘associate’ crossed out and ‘failed drug dealer’ with a winky face, written in Mike’s chicken-scratch handwriting instead.  “Why on earth do you still have this?”  Mike asks.

Harvey flushes a deep shade of red, “I didn’t know it was in there,” he mumbles, not looking at Mike.

“Bullshit,” Donna fake coughs.  “You know, I know you’re not sentimental, and yet when it comes to Mike…”

“Calm your farm, Donna; you’ve proved that once, and it would have been rude to throw the record away,” Harvey rebuts, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.  He wasn’t going to give her an ounce of satisfaction.

Donna sits next to his feet and leans into his space.  “Would you like some more examples?”

“NO!”

“I would. What else do you have, Donna?”  Mike perks up from beside them.

Donna grins at him and shakes her head.  “Oh, Mike, you are going to love Exhibit C.”

Harvey groans, he’s sure she’s not joking, and Mike is loving this, which okay, yeah, it is nice to see the kid smiling and laughing again but he’d prefer it not to be at his expense.

Donna takes pity on him and calls for a recess so they can drink their morning coffees, then subtly slips off to use the ladies’ room.

The office is still relatively quiet, Harvey guesses it’s still shy of eight and most of the partners don’t start filtering in until half past.  At least he hopes this dog and pony show will be over by then.  He looks up from the coffee in his hand to find Mike considering him carefully.  Harvey raises his eyebrows and shrugs.

“You know this would be a lot easier on you if you’d just get over yourself, and admit that you care about me.”

“Mike,” Harvey murmurs, his voice quiet and low, “caring only mak-”

“I know, I know, caring only makes you weak, right?  That’s complete bullshit, Harvey.  Why did you still have that business card, huh?”

He wants to tell him, he really does.  “Mike, I-”

“No, Harvey, don’t you dare give me some bullshit line, tell me the truth!”

Harvey looks away from the anger blazing in Mike’s eyes and focuses back on his coffee, the silence dragging out between them.

Mike drains his coffee and throws it at the bin, it’s a three-metre throw, and in all the times he’s tried to land the shot, he never has.  But this time it lands in the bin perfectly, doesn’t even hit the rim.  It’s a first.  Harvey meets Mike’s eyes in disbelief, and they both crease themselves laughing, the tension leaving the room immediately.  When the laughter starts to die down, they are left grinning at each other, and Mike gives Harvey an affectionate nod.  That’s all it takes for Harvey to start talking, and it just spills out of him.

“Every year, I go and visit my dad’s grave.  And every year it’s a shitty day for me, the whole day I feel lonely and angry, and I hate the ride home on that stupid train.  I have all the happy memories on the way there, you know?  But on the way home…”

Harvey sighs and rubs his temples.  He leans forward and picks up the business card, running his fingers over Mike’s writing slowly as he speaks.

“Last anniversary, I found this in my pocket, on the train after.  I don’t know when you put it in there, but when I read it I burst out laughing, and I knew that even though this train ride would always be shitty, that I’d found someone who got me, and who knew how to make me laugh.”

Harvey searches Mike’s face and sees that he understands.

“That’s why I kept it.  Because it means something to me.”  You mean something to me.

“It was at the train station,” Mike squeaks, mouth still dry and faculties lost as Harvey’s declaration of feelings for him bounces around in his head.

“Ah, Donna texted me, and I know how it feels, you know, on that day, and I didn’t want you to feel alone.  So, uh, all I had was a file, business cards and a pen on me, so I improvised.”  Mike shrugs like it was nothing.

Harvey nods, and a soft smile settles on his face.  The light from the morning sun catches his eyes, and Mike gets lost for a minute watching him.

After a moment, Mike hesitantly asks, “Are we good?”

Harvey doesn’t answer immediately, weighing up his options.  They seem good, but what got them here in the first place hasn’t been resolved yet.

“Yeah, we’ve been better though,” he eventually answers.

Mike gets it, he hears that he’s not entirely forgiven but considering the circumstances Harvey’s starting to build a bridge.

The building is starting to come alive; they can hear the thud of file boxes being piled up by couriers, and voices drifting along the corridor.

“Look, Mike, I don’t know what Donna’s plan is here but can we just-”

“Have fun with it?  Not take it too seriously?”  For Harvey’s sake, Mike will make out like this is a game, but they both know a lot has been revealed about their relationship this morning.

“Something like that,” Harvey agrees.

“Sure thing, boss.  Truthfully, I’m just glad Donna didn’t decide to ransack my apartment and discover the Harvey Specter doll I got Joy to make, you know, to keep my little Mikey doll company.”

Mike’s eyes are glistening with laughter.

“Idiot,” Harvey jokes, giving him a playful shove, and trying to hide his smile.

“Okay boys, where were we?”

Donna’s been watching them from outside the door, delighted to see that Harvey is unconvincingly trying not to smile but instead look unaffected, and that Mike’s body is turned toward him.  She grabs a picture from the box on Harvey’s desk and places it on the coffee table in front of Harvey, and oh boy, if looks could kill.

“Are you familiar with the item in this photograph?” she says sweetly like she isn’t about to make him seem like a lovesick teenager.

“Yes,” he answers, in the most bored tone he can conjure up.  “It’s a picture of the answering machine in my home office.”

“And do you keep any of the messages you receive on it?”

Fuck.  No, double fuck.  “Just the one, I don’t get many, and I rarely delete them.”

Harvey shifts so he can lean on his hand and hide half of his face from Mike because he knows exactly where this line of questioning is going.

“Is that your sworn testimony?  Because I seem to recall that you almost always let the machine take messages when you’re home so you can screen calls.”

“Fine, I get a few messages. Is there a question here?”

Mike is staring inquisitively at Harvey now.  He’s never seen anyone Harvey’s size try to make themselves invisible in a chair.

“Harvey Reginald Specter, this particular voicemail is two years old.  All the others got deleted.  Could you please explain why that is?”

“Nope.”  Well, yes, he can, but he’s hoping that Donna’s interpretation will be less ‘lovesick teenager’ and more ‘haha that’s funny.’

“Nope?  Well, let’s hear it then.”

Harvey groans as Donna grabs her phone and for the second time today, hits the play button, signalling his doom.

The recording starts with heavy breathing, Mike’s heavy breathing.  Then a drunk Mike slurs, “Harveeee, lemme housesit your condo. Pllleeeeeassse! I’ll love you forever. Pllleeeeeassse.”

Mike’s eyes widen in mortification, and then he bursts out laughing.  Harvey looks at him incredulously, wondering how him keeping this message could possibly be funny, while instantaneously trying to fabricate a decent excuse for still having it.

“I don’t even remember leaving that message, man I must have been wasted!”  Mike is still laughing as is Donna, so she replays it again for good measure.

“It was during the insider trading case; you were wasted.  You came to my door drunk off your ass, I shut the door in your face, and you must have called me on your way home.  I planned to use it to bribe you someday.”

Mike seems to consider that.  It’s not a great cover-up, but it will do.  Well, until Donna throws her ten cents in.

“Maybe you kept the voicemail because Mike says he’ll love you forever, Harvey,” Donna interjects.

“Objection, calls for speculation.”

“You’re a stubborn pain in the ass; you’re aware of that, right?”  Donna might have kept her cool for the most part, but Harvey can tell she’s getting frustrated.

“I object to the name calling, you have known I’m a pain in your ass for over ten years.  Now, are we done here?  May I make a closing statement?”

“Sure, okay,” Donna agrees, sounding defeated as she perches next to Mike on the couch and waits for Harvey to crush her evidence.

“Donna,” Harvey says softly, reaching out a hand over Mike and squeezing her knee, “I know that you are just trying to help me get over this, and I love you for that, I do.  But you should know better than anyone, that I do things in my own time, and on my own terms.

“You know I respect you, but you’ve failed to produce any evidence that suggests I care about Mike, all you have produced is proof that I did care, nothing you have shown me is current and would stand up in court.”

Donna frowns at him and crosses her arms.

Harvey sighs.  “To speed things up I’ll admit, I did care about Mike.  But things change, and you haven’t proven shit.  And if you continue with this,” he gestures to the evidence box, “then this season’s Balenciaga bag is going to be in jeopardy.”

Donna’s eyes bulge at the mention of her beloved yearly Balenciaga bonus.  She stands, walks around the coffee table and squats down by Harvey’s side and grabs his forearm.

Mike is ready to see the apology of the century, but then Donna winks at him, and makes the closing argument Harvey certainly didn’t see coming.

“On the contrary, Harvey, the evidence might not be current, but it is overwhelming.  I’m your secretary and your best friend.  I know you better than anyone else.  I wouldn’t waste my precious time gathering all this evidence up just to throw it in your face and have you come up with excuse after excuse as to why it was inadmissible, irrelevant, open to interpretation, blah blah blah.  I did all of this so Mike would see it.  Now I might just be a legal secretary, but even I know that Mike’s interpretation of the evidence will be that you more than just care about him.”

Harvey looks genuinely shocked.  She played him.  This whole bet was supposed to be between him and her, but she’d snuck Mike in knowing that Harvey wouldn’t kick him out.  Then presented this all for Mike’s benefit, not for Harvey to defend himself.  Jesus.

Mike is trying his hardest not to laugh at Donna’s little victory dance, as Harvey realises that she’s just outwitted the best closer in New York.

“What’s so funny?”  Harvey asks, side eyeing Mike.

“Nothing,” Mike replies, holding his hands up in surrender, “I just thought that Donna would make a pretty good fake-lawyer too.”

Harvey can admit he’s kind of proud of her; she’d played the man and won.

“Okay, that’s enough from the peanut gallery,” Harvey exclaims, smiling and shaking his head at Mike.

“So, am I done here?” Donna interjects smiling, and then puts on her best performance yet, nailing a Harvey impersonation.  “Not, ‘You and I, we’re done’, done, but ‘can I leave’ done?”

Mike, a fully-grown man, cackles.  Harvey groans and puts his head in his hands.

“Did I really say it like that?”  he asks, dreading the answer.

“Yes,” they both say in unison.

“You even licked your lips, you asshole,” Mike elaborates, but there’s no sting to his words.

Donna sees Harvey’s dimples, as a genuine loving smile, the one that only Mike can bring out, graces his face and she knows they’ll be okay from here.

“Well, I think the prosecution rests,” Donna declares, looking genuinely happy.

Harvey gives her a smirk and signals with a look that she should go.

“Good, I’ll leave you two to think about your closing arguments to each other.”

Donna winks, then heads for the door, stopping after a few steps and turning back and looking at Mike.

“You might want to check out that box, Mike.  He kept a birthday card that you called him old in, your first ID badge is marking the page you quoted verbatim from his personal barbri legal handbook, his phone’s home screen is a photo of you two-”

“Donna!”  Harvey warned, but she ignored him and continued like he hadn’t said a word.

“And I haven’t even mentioned the queued episodes of ‘Different Strokes’ on your television, a show you have claimed to hate on more than one occasion, and a show Mike loves.  Or the Tom Ford suit hanging in your wardrobe in Mike’s size, waiting for what I wonder, the occasion he may need it after sleeping-”

“Objection, badgering,” Mike barks, standing up between Harvey and Donna, protecting his own.

“’Attaboy, puppy,” Donna says, as she walks over and kisses him on the cheek.

Then she is gone, and the room is deathly silent, Mike still staring at the glass door of Harvey’s office.

Mike rubs his hands together nervously and sits back down.  “So?”  he says slowly, hoping that Harvey will start the conversation that they obviously need to have.

“Yeah,”  is all Harvey voices in response, though internally he curses to himself and curses Donna for her parting remarks.

“This,” he comments eventually, gesturing to the evidence box, “it doesn’t mean what you think it means, Mike.”

“No?  So, the thing about the suit in your wardrobe, in my size, was bullshit?”

Mike sounds sceptical, almost as if he knew it was true the moment he’d heard it.

Harvey doesn’t want to lie, he really doesn’t.  “Ahh-”

“You know what, don’t answer that.  I’m just going to assume that you’ve wanted to get into my pants since the day we met,” Mike teases, licking and biting his lips and wiggling his eyebrows.

Harvey snorted, “I don’t think that’s the case Donna just argued, plus I’m pretty sure if I wanted to sleep with you, rookie, you’d have your pants off quicker than Superman.”

Without missing a beat, Mike answers delightedly, “So it’s a Superman suit hanging in your wardrobe, I didn’t know you were into cosplay, Harvey?”

“Mike, it’s not like that,” Harvey says weakly, but even he doesn’t believe it.

Mike’s having none of it anyway.

“Yes, it is!  Donna was quite clearly arguing that you love me, and you’re too much of a chicken to tell me I hurt you that much more because of it,” Mike explodes.

Mike might have hit the nail on the head, but he’s still hurt, and they can’t do this now.  “Mike, we shouldn’t be having this conversation here.”

“Bullshit, Harvey, it’s now or ne-”

“You were supposed to trust me,“ Harvey cuts in, his voice showing all the hurt and anger he’s been hiding, "I thought you did, but you proved me wrong.  You should have come straight to me and we could have worked it out, together, like we used to.” “Harvey, Jessica threatened me,” Mike pleads, “I thought I had no other choice.” Harvey sprung to his feet and shouted, “No other choice but to betray me?”

Mike physically deflates in front of him, and Harvey realises he’s standing over him and sits back down immediately.  Taking a deep breath, he lets Mike see the whole truth.

“People think because I say I don’t care, that they can’t hurt me, but this did, Mike, this,” he waves his hands between Mike and himself, “you hurt me.” Mike stays silent, the corners of his eyes wet and threatening to spill over. He feels winded by Harvey’s words.  He’s hurt the man who gave him everything.  When he does speak, his voice is a feeble whisper.

“Harvey, I’m sorry, I didn't…” “Exactly, you didn’t know,” Harvey finished for him.  “I thought we were different, I actually thought you…”  Harvey doesn’t finish the sentence, because it’s too painful to think that he loved someone that didn’t love him back.  Instead, he stands.

“I need to go,” he explains, heading for the door. Mike springs to his feet and grabs for Harvey’s forearm, spinning him around, “No, you don’t get to leave it like this,” he argues. “We are different.”

Mike tightens his grip because he needs Harvey to stay, he needs him to listen and to see.

“At first Louis thought you’d want me back, he said that Batman needed Robin,” Mike huffs out a half-hearted laugh, “but you didn’t want me, so I wrote my resignation letter and I agreed to help Louis out on one last case, because, Harvey, I don’t want to be here if I’m not with you.”

He meets Harvey’s gaze, and his hands start shaking.  He’s certain that this is the moment for him to lay it all out, and he’s scared fucking shitless of being rejected.  He closes his eyes, breathes in and says the first thing that comes to mind as he stares into Harvey’s trusting eyes when he opens his own again.

“Jesus, Harvey, you’re everything to me.”

Harvey tilts his head slightly and takes a slow, deep breath in, as a mish-mash of unrehearsed, blatantly genuine words continues to pour out of Mike.

“When Grammy died, they only person I trusted was you.  I even changed my emergency contact to you, for fuck’s sake.”

Mike’s chest heaves.  He’s offloaded everything he’s been keeping to himself.  He lets go of Harvey, throws himself back onto the couch and watches as Harvey starts pacing the room.  It’s all on him now and they both know it.  Mike tries not to hope too hard.  Tries not to think about whether he said everything he could to make Harvey see that this was it for him.

It takes Harvey a solid five minutes to say something, and Mike has bitten three fingernails down to the quick in that time.

“I knew.”

Mike has no idea what he’s talking about.  “You knew what?”

“Human Resources called me to check if it was okay that I was your emergency contact,” Harvey explains.  He crosses the room and stands in front of Mike.

Mike looks up and into Harvey’s soft brown eyes.  “And it was? Okay?”

Harvey calls him an idiot for the second time that day as he grabs Mike’s hands from his lap and pulls him up and against him in one swift move, and of course, Harvey is smoother than Barry White.  “Idiot,” Harvey mutters again as he presses his lips softly against Mike’s.

It’s over in a heartbeat, but it’s soul binding, and Mike wants more immediately, once he’s over the shock, that is.

Harvey observes Mike as he breaks the kiss and he can’t help but smile at the slack-jawed, shocked look on his face.  But after a second to compose himself, Mike grins and laughter erupts from deep down inside him.  The reaction baffles Harvey.

“Mike?”

Mike explains himself immediately, “Donna was right, you care about me,” he teases in the most annoying voice he can manage, purposely trying to rile Harvey up.

Harvey rolls his eyes.  “Wow, who made you a lawyer, Captain Obvious?”

Mike licks his lips, leans forward and whispers into Harvey’s ear, “Just some dude that wanted to get into my pants.”

Harvey smirks and gently pushes Mike away, “That’s it, lippy, I told you not to call me ‘dude.’”

His poker face when it comes to Mike Ross needs work, he thinks as he struggles to hide an affectionate grin.

Mike pounces, scruffing him by the shirt front, no doubt leaving wrinkles, and whispers, “Please kiss me some more.”

Harvey’s hand rests against his cheek, and he slides his thumb across Mike’s jaw.

“Rooftop in five minutes, rookie, and if you promise never to mention today again, I’ll sweeten the deal and get into those pants.”

“Deal,” Mike agrees, already headed for the door.  He flies down the hallway, heading for the stairwell, faster than the speed of light.

The End

Thanks for reading! X   Link to AO3 here.

[nebulouscannibalism]

Eyes Behind The Glass: (Part One)

Fandoms:

Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types

Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris

Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins Movies)

Relationships:

Hannibal/Original Female Character(s)

Hannibal/Original Character(s)

Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling (platonic)

Characters:

Hannibal Lecter

Clarice Starling

Jack Crawford

Dr. Frederick Chilton

Will Graham (mentioned)

Additional Tags:

Slow Romance

Slow Burn

Cat and Mouse

Fluff

Blood and Violence

Hannibal is a Cannibal

Cannibalism

Language:English

Words:2287

Chapters:1/?

Summary:

Coraline Hemings, a nurse and caregiver is transferred from Virginia Mental Hospital to the Baltimore Hospital for The Criminally Insane where she meets the infamous serial killer and psychiatrist Dr. Hannibal Lecter. As the future unfolds, she slowly finds herself caught between ethical responsibility and emotional longing. Once her choice is made, there is no going back.

(Authors Note: I am still currently reading the series as of right now but I've watched all of the movies. Please forgive any character inaccuracies and mistakes. Also I will be tweaking and adjusting the original plot to fit my characters time line but I will keep in all the iconic moments that made us fall in love with Dr. Lecter. I hope you all enjoy!)

Chapter 1

 First Days Are Always The Worst

The old van rattled and screeched as it pulled into it's parking spot. Coraline Hemings jiggled the keys out of the ignition, huffing as she did so. She peered out of the windshield that faced the large cement building. She supposed it was both an honor and an insult to be transferred to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, or as some of her old coworkers at the Virgina Mental Hospital had called the 'Cannibal Hotel'. She knew her credentials as a nurse caught their eye, and the pay was sure as hell better, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy. At her previous job, the worst of the patients she had to deal with where the worried schizo's that would sometimes escape to ferment the nearby bushes, now she would be dealing with the darkest of mental disfiguration. Coraline pulled down the sunshade, checking her face in the mirror and straightening her uniform. Today would be her first day. After being admitted in she was immediately sent to the chief of the hospitals office, Dr. Fredrick Chilton. Coraline seated herself on one of the leather chairs that squeaked in protest whenever she moved and crossed her legs, tapping her foot on the carpeted floor. She jumped hearing the click of the door open and close. "Good morning, Miss. Hemings is it?" Chilton's voice rang from behind her as he shuffled off his coat. His office was neat and clean save for the bundles of files and papers that littered his mahogany desk. Coraline assented. "Forgive me for being late-there was a crash on the highway 45 that caused a bunch a traffic" he grunted walking over to his desk, not bothering to conceal his wondering eyes that went from her legs to her chest and then finally to her eyes; causing a shiver to run up her spine. 'No there wasn't,' she thought 'I took the same highway here.' She pursed her lips, giving him a tight smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you Miss-" he paused opening one of the files on his desk "Coraline." "Please-just call me Cora." She said politely, shining him a professional grin which Chilton returned. He shook her hand. "Well Cora it says here that you attended Moran State and finished with a degree in nursing..are you pursuing any other form of education?" "In Psychology and Ethics yes." "Interesting," he sighed out his eyes glazing over as he looked into her file, a feeble attempt at looking interested. "Well I believe that's all in order- have you signed all the papers and documents?" "Yes" "Good, after what happened last time the last thing we need is a lawsuit on our hands" "You're taking about the incident with Dr.Lecter and the nurse?" Chilton paused at the mention of his name, his face hardening. Cora could see the grinding of his teeth behind his thin lips. "Yes. Precisely. You heard about that I presume?" He said in a colder tone, one of the veins in his forehead bulging out despite his curt smile. "Yes, it's a hard thing to miss Doctor." "Well then, I suppose it would be a..waste of time to fill you in on the kind of maniacs we have here. Since you already know. He doesn't react well to treatment-if he reacts at all." "What does he do? If you don't mind me asking." "I've given him almost every goddamn psychiatric test in the book, but the man won't comply- he folded the last one I gave him into a damn origami swan" he huffed. "I've heard that he writes to a lot of colleges. His work even being featured in some of their newsletters" Coraline said. Chilton didn't reply at first, he was getting frustrated. The discussion of Hannibal Lecter was obviously a sensitive one to the doctor. He sighed through clenched teeth, his once friendly demeanor altogether grew condescending. "It's almost pathetic how they crowd that madman." He tried to hide his bitter tone, but Cora easily picked up on it. "I'll save myself the trip and have Clarke lead you down through the security, he will fill you in on all the procedures with the patients including Lecter, you'll share an office with and one other attendant. There you will supervise the patients." He settled himself back down into his seat, fumbling with his tie and pressing a button over on his phone. "Mary send Clarke up to my office. The new attendant is here." He folded his hands over his stomach- a stone expression on his face. Cora shifted from one side to the other in her chair, picking her nails as she usually did. When the attendant knocked Chilton turned to some files in his desk, "Have a good day Miss. Hemings." He mumbled flipping through the files. Cora nodded her head, grabbing her bag and walking out down the hall with Clarke. Clarke was a tall old man, easily towering over her. Late fifties. The two walked past the first door towards the cells. "It'll be a few weeks before we have your identification badge printed, but in the meantime you'll use the visitor card that we give to lawyers sometimes when they visit the patients." When they finally reached the last door Clarke stopped and said sternly, "Now I know they briefed you beforehand on all our inmates. Is that correct" "Yes, and I've read their care files beforehand as well, conduct and everything." "Including Lecter-?" "Especially Lecter, they where..rather imperative on the matter." She replied shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Well just know that there's a security guard down the hall to the left, call for him if you need to, and.. a point of personal advice, don't let Lecter get into your head, he has a habit for toying with people" "Got it." "Good- now I'm going to signal the guards to let you in, you have a cart that has their medication, files etc. Good luck out there doll face." He assured before waving over to the other attendant. The two heavy metal doors creaked open, slamming loudly behind her and echoing down the dark stone halls. Swallowing the lump in her throat Cloraline gripped the carts handle tightly and began her stops. The first stop was a patient named Paul Bateman, who had no hesitation in describing in full confidence what he wanted to do to her rectal region had he been free of the metal barrier between them. She showed no reaction, despite the sick feeling growing in her stomach, perspiration going down the back of her neck. She gave him and some of the other lunatics their prescribed medication, her hands beginning to tremble as it droned on. "I'd rip those pretty little eyes of yours out and suck on them" She heard one yell from behind, spitting at her shoes. She quickened her pace as she went down the list of her assigned inmates, one horror show after another, until there was one patient left, and notably the one she had been most frightened to meet. She could see the acrylic plexiglass from where she stood, the cool toned LED lights casting an artificial beam within the cell. Cloraline sighed, the wheels screeching out as she slowly made her way to the viewing of his cell. Hannibal sat at his table on the far right side, his crimson eyes invested deeply into one of his books, a pad of soft paper and one of his felt tipped pens in hand taking notes. Cloraline stopped once she reached the center of the viewing, watching him with quiet interest. She slowly diverted her gaze to the stone walls that where covered in elaborate drawings. "One second dear, I will only need a moment longer." His surprisingly calm voice rang, his stare never lifting from the page. "..Take your time Dr.Lecter, sorry for interrupting." She replied smoothly. Hannibal's gaze froze in spot, before raising to the glass in front of him. "You're new. I've never seen you here before. What is your name?" He asked politely watching her with quizzical interest. Cora couldn't help but stare back, her blood running cold in her veins. "Cora Hemings doctor" "No, your full name, please." "Coraline Hemings" She replied again, her voice wavering slightly. "Ah Coraline Hemings," He sighed out, "Are you my new nurse? I suppose you've heard what happened to the last one." "I am, and I did." "What did you think? Chilton took away my books for nearly a year after that." His face had an eerie stillness to it as he spoke, his eyes never blinking. "He took away your books Dr.Lecter?" She asked, dodging the question which he noticed. "Chilton often does, it pleases him to toy with the power he has, it compensates for his lack of success. But back to my question Miss.Hemings, what did you think about what happened to the previous nurse before you?" He persisted grinningly. "I suppose the only way to answer that correctly is if I knew why such a thing happened in the first place." She replied with a small smile. "Ah, clever girl, yes. I must admit that you're the first nurse to walk in here that doesn't reek of some atrocious drugstore perfume and cheap boxed hair dye. She chewed a lot of gum, mostly to cover her ashtray breath, but she never closed her mouth, leaving me to hear the clicking of her teeth and saliva as she chewed." He was standing now as he spoke, inches away from the glass right in front of her. "Is that then why you attacked her doctor? Because she irritated you?" Coraline asked curiously. "No." He replied, his grin widening. "Then why did you? If that's not to forward to ask." "I wanted to know the flavor of gum she was chewing, it must of been good since she chewed it so much." Coraline paused, shifting from one side to the other as she was locked in his red eyed gaze. "And..did you like the flavor..Doctor?" She questioned hesitantly. "I found it rather cheap and disappointing, I liked the taste of her tongue much better." Hannibals expression never faltered, though his eyes widened considerably with both gratification and interest to Coraline's horrified expression. For his own amusement he suddenly pressed his hands onto the glass and bore his teeth at her, like an animal in a cage, causing Coraline to startle and jump. Pleased with her fearful reaction he stepped back from the glass, folding his hands neatly behind his back. The two fell into silence as they stared at one another, Coraline regaining her composure. "Tell me Coraline, do I frighten you?" He asked with that eerie polite smile. "In some ways yes doctor." She replied calmly, despite her heart racing behind her rib cage. "Do the other inmates here frighten you?" "No, they make me uncomfortable." "Like Mr.Paul up there- he has some rather interesting fantasies about you. I caught most of it," He turned from the glass, his back now facing her as he viewed his own drawings. "I see you liked my drawings Coraline." He changed the subject again. "I do, you're an amazing artist Doctor," She said carefully. Her eyes following the rows of drawings. "What's-Whats that one of up at the top?" She asked, pointing towards one of his many landscapes. Hannibal whirled around, his expression completely professional due to muscle memory, his eyes following her finger to the drawing. "Ah, a beautiful piece of gothic architecture. This ancient cathedral I saw once in Spain many years ago. It's arches fascinated me." "You can remember all those fine details?" "Remembering is all you have in a place such as this." He replied, turning his crimson gaze back to her. His eyes studied her face. The oval curve of her jaw, the ebony darkness of her eyes framed by two shaped brows. Her supple lips slightly parted. A beauty almost innocent. Yes she would be an interesting subject for a future drawing. Hannibal and Coraline fell yet again into an almost comfortable silence. That was until his soft voice broke it. "The orderlies must wonder what's taking so long-" he sighed, his eyes peering down the hallway. "You're right doctor," she replied snapping back to her professional demeanor. She adjusted some things on her tray while Hannibal turned back to his artwork, hands still folded behind his back. "Dr.Lecter?" She asked pausing. "Yes?" He replied politely, turning back around once again. "What was Spain like?" She asked. Hannibal flashed her a rather gentle smile, his eyes closing at the memory. "It's warm, incredibly beautiful in the summer" His voice rang amongst the shrill cold halls. Coraline smiled, nodding her head. "I wish I could see it, I bet its more beautiful in person" She replied. "It is." Lecter watched her expression carefully, this certainly was a conversation he had no intention of forgetting. "Well..I'll see you tomorrow, have a nice evening doctor." She said beginning to push her cart back up the hallway. "Same to you Coraline.." His voice trailed behind her as she walked past his cell. Coraline' feet felt like lead, her head filling with air. It wasn't until she reached near the end of the hall that she was ripped from her mindset. A fling of saliva smacked against the side of her face, getting into her hair and her ear. "I'll fuck your fucking eye sockets till they bleed you dumb cunt!" The inmate who spat at her screamed. Coraline wiped her face, quickly jogging down the hall with the cart.

[louisisacryptid]

Sailing Accident

The last thing Roger remembers is closing his eyes and submitting himself to the turbulent ocean. Drenched by the waves and the rain, a huge gash down the middle of his main sail, and his rudder completely lost to the depths, he had no choice but to hang on to the ropes of his tiny vessel with all of his might in an attempt to keep her upright. She was gathering water and the deck was slippery and hazardous. The tiller swings wildly from the wind and the ocean current and smacks in to his shin, causing him to let out a wail of pain. The next thing he knew he was staring down a massive wave which threatened to capsize him and with his last breath he prays that his death would be a quick one and that Gordon would know just how much he loved him.

The memories after that were a mixture of pain, the burning of salt water in his lungs, panicked breathing, and loud voices telling him not to move as they put a splint on his leg. He can see the remains of the US 412, tied to the larger tug boat and catches sight of the paramedics uniform. Once his body realises that he's safe, he gives in to the exhaustion.

Roger awakes with a groan, attempting to stretch out in the uncomfortable bed and being met with a sharp pain that darts up his leg. He slowly opens his eyes and catches the outline of an oxygen mask below them. He groans louder in distress, reaching out and fumbling blindly. He feels the tiny tube that goes all the way in to his arm and his eyes snap wide open, his breaths painful and sharp; he could feel the thick liquid as it seeped from the needle in to his vein and it made him whine in panic.

Suddenly, and without warning, Gordon is there, his hands on his chest, pushing him back in to the bed. The touch catches him off guard and Roger makes another noise of confused alarm. Gordon is saying something angry and muffled at him and Roger squints, trying to make out the individual words. Finally, his ears adjust to the sounds of the hospital and his focus moves from the loud, insistent beeping to Gordon's voice and he catches the last "motherfucker" of his sentence.

"Nnn," is all Roger can manage, gripping like a child at Gordon's arms, willing him to stay close.

Gordon obeys and very slowly, so as not to spook him, lays beside him on the bed.

Roger blinks back tears, afraid to move his arm in case it pulled on the drip needle, but desperately needing to stroke Gordon's cheek.

"You had an accident," Gordon explains, reaching up to cup Roger's cheek which was a little bruised.

Roger leans in to the welcomed touch which seemed to make things just that little bit better.

"They have you on some fluids and a little bit of morphine for the leg."

Roger closes his eyes and groans; he'd been on morphine as a child when he had broken his arm severely and it had fucked with his sensory issues to the point where he couldn't stand the tiniest of noises. It had been hell.

"'M... sorry," Roger murmurs, the words causing air to sting his throat and a fit of coughs ensues.

Gordon holds his body as steady as he could, tears running down his cheeks at seeing his boyfriend in such a state.

He had called Roger's phone countless times, watching live radar footage of the storm as it swallowed Cuttyhunk island. Gordon had never been so absolutely terrified in his life, and he was still shaking slightly from the adrenaline. The immediate regret that had washed over him when he had heard of the storm was like nothing he had ever experienced.

'Go on then, go and fucking sail away,' he had told Roger in a fit of rage at just how annoying he was being. Couldn't he understand that what Gordon needed to write was silence? But he didn't and he would forget and although Gordon knew it wasn't intentional, Roger's commentary on the weather had been driving him insane. After that things had escalated, both of them stubborn and emotionally distant, their diagnosis' clashing like waves against the base of a cliff; violent, harsh, but natural.

"Don't be sorry, baby," Gordon murmurs back, gently smoothing out Roger's hair. It was imperfect: they had shaved some at the back in order to stitch up the open wound on his head, but Gordon loved it nonetheless.

Roger's lungs wheeze as he breathes, rattling like a nail in a tin can as he tries to form words.

"Y-you still... mm... love me?" he mumbles, looking up at Gordon.

Gordon smiles softly, pressing kisses to Roger's forehead, "Yes, yes of course I do, babe."

Roger nods, slowly leaning in to Gordon until he was completely in his arms, his eyes closed. He sleeps the night away and when he wakes Gordon has gone, leaving a note about having to record a demo and that he'd be back soon. Roger didn't mind the quiet.

High heels echo down the hospital corridor towards Roger's room. Lilith was tall, slim, and a harsh kind of pretty. She had Roger's eyes and cheekbones, but none of his warmth or generosity. While she had been loving once, and Roger had loved her, when her child had drifted from her image of what she wanted and expected him to be, she had turned to ice.

She wore a grey blazer and skirt, everything as colourless as her face; even her nails, although painted, were an odd shade of grey. She resembled a marble statue of some Greek goddess, you admired her from a distance, but dare not endure her wrath should you disturb her.

Roger was all alone in his hospital room, picking out the bits of bacon from his Caesar salad that a nurse had brought him for lunch.

Lilith rolls her eyes, watching him through the window from the hallway. The image bringing back memories of her son picking things out of his food at every meal.

"Roger," she calls, standing in the doorway.

Roger freezes, looking up from his fork to stare at her, his lips in a thin line.

"What are you here for?"

She travels a few steps closer to him, "Your father tracked the boat number when we got a call about it needing repair. They said you had been in an accident."

There was a long pause as Roger tries to process his emotions upon seeing her again.

"Well. I'm fine," he says, her perfume suffocating him like a poisonous gas. She always put too much on.

He returns to his salad, finally satisfied that all the bacon was gone.

"You should have been more careful," she says, real concern covered easily by her cold tone.

"Should have done a lot of things," he mumbles, his mouth full.

She grimaces, "How many times have I told you not to speak with food in your mouth?"

He swallows and makes sure to gather as much salad on his fork as he could before he puts it in to his mouth and starts to chew, staring her down.

"There's no need to be like that," she snaps.

Roger goes to reply, but is cut off by Richard's high sing-song voice, "Mimi said she's busy with a court case, but the second it's over she'll be here. And look! Flowers!"

He marches in to the room, giving Lilith a side eye as she steps away from him. He places the flowers down on the desk beside Roger's bed. Mimi had picked flowers that didn't have strong scents, it was sweet.

"You alright, honey?" Richard asks, checking Roger's chart and making a note to bring him Kosher food.

Roger nods, cracking a smile at the face Richard gives him with his back to Lilith before he leaves.

Lilith comes closer, an actual smile on her face. She pats his hand softly, "I am so pleased you're alright, Roger."

He looks up at her, slightly confused, "Um. Thanks."

She was content with the fact that her son had finally found himself a girlfriend, maybe even a wife, g-d willing. And a lawyer, too. She knew she had raised him right.

"I'm surprised they let nurses like that work. It's a wonder he doesn't have a cardiac arrest."

Roger would have been surprised at her comment had he not already known how deeply his mother hated fat people. She thought they were lazy.

"He's the only nice person in this place," Roger mumbles, stabbing a piece of lettuce with his fork to emphasise his point.

His mother sighs, she hadn't meant to upset her son.

"I just mean... you know, he's obviously... homosexual. And with those diseases they can carry," she shivers at the thought.

Roger rolls his eyes, stabbing another piece of lettuce and imagining it was her head. It was very therapeutic.

Moments of silence pass between them. She hesitantly rests her hand atop of his. Maybe she was finally, after all of these years, starting to change, Roger thought. Even if he now wanted nothing to do with her, the little bit of affection she was showing meant the world to him.

"And I'm very glad you got over your little phase," she adds.

He pauses, taking his hand back from her suddenly, "You don't know what you're saying, Mother. Please just go."

"But, I-"

He takes a deep breath which hurt his lungs, but he was about to be brave so the pain was worth it.

"Mother, my whole life you have only ever given me affection when I've done something you've approved of. And... I-I don't think you've ever told me you loved me."

She scoffs, standing up and placing a hand on her chest to show her offence, "How was I supposed to? Every time I tried to hug you, you would scream or cry. I just wanted to hug my son. There was no way I could have showed you love, Roger. You were an insufferable child."

Roger shakes his head, looking down at his salad so he didn't have to meet her disapproving gaze and she couldn't see his tears, "You could have just... just said 'I love you'."

She huffs, smoothing the creases from her skirt, "You have just lost any chance of hearing that after how you've treated me today."

Roger laughs, amused in a sick way at how cruel she could be. He looks up at her, tears dripping from his cheeks to wet his hospital gown, "I'm a gay man, Momma. And whether you want me to be or not, that's what I am. I have a lovely, lovely boyfriend who, just recently, was hired to write for an off-Broadway show. We are so in love. Those flowers are from his mother who raised me when you turned away, not my girlfriend."

She goes to speak, but he holds up a hand to silence her like she had done to him countless times, "The best thing you can do for me... is leave."

Richard slips in to Roger's room as Lilith leaves, having overheard the conversation and wanting to offer his support any way he could. There wasn't a gay man in New York City that didn't have parental issues, he was sure of it.

"Oh, honey..." he coos.

Roger collapses back on to the bed, letting out a quiet sob.

"I hurt all over," he whines, pushing the table away from over his bed. "Please call Gordon and tell him my Mother came and saw me."

Richard nods, pouring Roger a glass of water because he knew he'd be dehydrated after crying. He quietly slips away, letting Roger cry for as much time as he needed.

[tipsycad147]

Gemini May World Dracula Day

By shirleytwofeathers

May 26 is World Dracula Day which commemorates Bram Stoker’s Gothic horror novel Dracula, which was first published on May 26 in 1897, by Archibald Constable and Company in Britain. It sold for six shillings and came bound in yellow cloth with red lettering. It was first printed in the United States two years later, by Doubleday & McClure of New York City. Although not the first novel about vampires, it became a model for the genre, and laid the foundation for future vampire stories, with its introduction of the character Count Dracula.

The quintessential vampire, Count Dracula has inspired tens of films and stories the world over, not to mention the virtual immortality of the character during as a beloved Halloween character. For all of these reasons, it’s undeniable that this icon of horror more than deserves his own little holiday so the world can show its appreciation for his contributions to the worlds of cinema and literature over the centuries. So put on your fangs, and let’s sink out teeth right into this, shall we?

About The Book

The book follows (spoiler alert!) an English lawyer named Jonathan Harker as he travels to Transylvania to meet Count Dracula at his castle, Castle Dracula. To Harker, Dracula appears pale and off-kilter. The strangeness of Dracula is more apparent after he lunges at Harker’s throat after Harker cuts himself while shaving. Harker eventually finds out that Dracula is a vampire who needs to drink human blood to survive. Afterward, Dracula locks Harker in the castle and flees to England with 50 boxes of dirt (it is believed he needs dirt from his home country to stay healthy). As Dracula heads to England to search for new blood, Harker eventually escapes from the castle.

Meanwhile, Mina, Harker’s fiancée, is visiting her friend Lucy in England. One night, Mina finds Lucy sleepwalking by a graveyard. Mina believes she sees a creature hovering over Lucy for a moment, and then notices two red marks on Lucy’s neck. Lucy becomes sick over the next few days and is then cared for by a Dr. Seward and by Dr. Abraham Van Helsing, before eventually dying. Afterward, strange reports begin surfacing that a creature has been attacking children in the area.

Jonathan Harker and Mina are reunited and married. Harker tells Dr. Helsing about his experience with Dracula, and Helsing then believes Lucy contracted vampirism from him and is the one attacking children. They dig up her corpse, cut off her head, put a stake through her heart, and stuff her mouth with garlic. They then turn their focus to Dracula and try to destroy his boxes of dirt. He escapes back to Transylvania, where they find him buried in the last box of dirt. They cut off his head and stab him through the heart, causing him to collapse into dust.

The Origins Of Dracula

Stoker spent years researching vampires before writing Dracula. During that time, he was particularly influenced by “Transylvanian Superstitions,” an essay by Emily Gerard that was published in 1885. Stoker worked at the Lyceum Theatre in London from 1878 to 1898. The theater was headed by Henry Irving, who Stoker based Dracula’s mannerisms on. It was even Stoker’s hope that Irving would play Dracula in a stage adaptation, but it did not happen.

According to one theory, Prince Vlad III of Wallachia (Romania) was the real-life inspiration behind Stoker’s gothic horror novel. An extremely cruel and merciless ruler, Vlad earned the nickname “Vlad the Impaler” for the many ways he tortured his opponents as well as people who betrayed him when they were captured. As can be guessed from his nickname, impaling was his favourite method of execution, and it is thought that he killed up to 100,000 people during his reign, and was infamous for the “forests” of impaled victims he left behind when he won a battle. One unsubstantiated account says that he dipped bread in his victims’ blood and ate it in front of them as they died on stakes.

Born in Transylvania in the fifteenth century, he was also called Drăculea, which means “Son of Dracul.” Indeed, his father was known as Dracul, a name that derived from the knightly order he belonged to—the Order of the Dragon (the Latin word draco means dragon). In modern Romanian, drac means “devil.”

It is believed that Stoker picked the name Dracula after learning this more modern translation. Some believe that the only connection between Vlad III and Dracula are their names. The connection of his character with vampirism was made by Bram Stoker around the 1890’s, and has become a permanent element of pop culture since then.

What does it mean?

Dracula has been interpreted in numerous ways. Some have interpreted the story as an allegory of the fear that western Europeans had of eastern Europeans coming into their area. Hence, the story of someone coming from Transylvania—in Romania—to London and wreaking havoc on its residents. This theme appeared in other novels of the time.

Some have seen the book as a reaction to the conservative and patriarchal norms of the Victorian period, and as an exploration of suppressed sexual desire. Some also have seen the book as being about the relationship between the past and future, with Dracula symbolising a primitive past that challenges modernity.

The Historical Vampire

The concept of vampirism dates back thousands of years. The ancient Greeks, Hebrews, Egyptians and Babylonians all had legends telling hair-raising tales of demon-like undead creatures that lived off of the blood of the living.

Tales of the undead consuming the blood or flesh of living beings have been found in nearly every culture around the world for many centuries. Today we know these entities predominantly as vampires, but in ancient times, the term vampire did not exist; blood drinking and similar activities were attributed to demons or spirits who would eat flesh and drink blood; even the devil was considered synonymous with the vampire.

Almost every nation has associated blood drinking with some kind of revenant or demon, from the ghouls of Arabia to the goddess Sekhmet of Egypt. Indeed, some of these legends could have given rise to the European folklore, though they are not strictly considered vampires by historians when using today’s definitions.

Hebrews, ancient Greeks, and Romans had tales of demonic entities and blood-drinking spirits which are considered precursors to modern vampires. Despite the occurrence of vampire-like creatures in these ancient civilisations, the folklore for the entity we know today as the vampire originates almost exclusively from early 18th-century Southeastern Europe, particularly Transylvania as verbal traditions of many ethnic groups of the region were recorded and published. In most cases, vampires are revenants of evil beings, suicide victims, or witches, but can also be created by a malevolent spirit possessing a corpse or by being bitten by a vampire itself. Belief in such legends became so rife that in some areas it caused mass hysteria and even public executions of people believed to be vampires.

In India, tales of vetalas, ghoul-like beings that inhabit corpses, are found in old Sanskrit folklore. Although most vetala legends have been compiled in the Baital Pachisi, a prominent story in the Kathasaritsagara tells of King Vikramāditya and his nightly quests to capture an elusive one. The vetala is described as an undead creature who, like the bat associated with modern-day vampirism, hangs upside down on trees found on cremation grounds and cemeteries. Pishacha, the returned spirits of evil-doers or those who died insane, also bear vampiric attributes.

The Hebrew word “Alukah” (literal translation is “leech”) is synonymous with vampirism or vampires, as is “Motetz Dam” (literally, “blood sucker”). Later vampire traditions appear among diaspora Jews in Central Europe, in particular the medieval interpretation of Lilith. In common with vampires, this version of Lilith was held to be able to transform herself into an animal, usually a cat, and charm her victims into believing that she is benevolent or irresistible. However, she and her daughters usually strangle rather than drain victims, and in the Kabbalah, she retains many attributes found in vampires.

A late 17th- or early 18th-century Kabbalah document was found in one of the Ritman library’s copies of Jean de Pauly’s translation of the Zohar. The text contains two amulets, one for male (lazakhar), the other for female (lanekevah). The invocations on the amulets mention Adam, Eve, and Lilith, Chavah Rishonah and the angels—Sanoy, Sansinoy, Smangeluf, Shmari’el, and Hasdi’el. A few lines in Yiddish are shown as dialog between the prophet Elijah and Lilith, in which she has come with a host of demons to kill the mother, take her newborn and “to drink her blood, suck her bones and eat her flesh”. She informs Elijah that she will lose power if someone uses her secret names, which she reveals at the end.

Other Jewish stories depict vampires in a more traditional way. In “The Kiss of Death”, the daughter of the demon king Ashmodai snatches the breath of a man who has betrayed her, strongly reminiscent of a fatal kiss of a vampire. A rare story found in Sefer Hasidim #1465 tells of an old vampire named Astryiah who uses her hair to drain the blood from her victims. A similar tale from the same book describes staking a witch through the heart to ensure she does not come back from the dead to haunt her enemies.

More about Vampires can be found at The Powers That Be.

How to celebrate Dracula Day

Celebrating all things Dracula why not throw a party and get your friends round for the ultimate film binge. Ideas for creating the perfect atmosphere include giving your party a Gothic feel by making sure all of your decorations are either black or blood red, the table setting is rather sophisticated, everyone is dressed elegantly and wears fangs, hanging up plenty of bat and spider web decorations, and serving plenty of blood red drinks.

It would also be perfect to watch one or more of the classic vampire movies to have been made, such as the 1958 British classic titled simply “Dracula”, and starring the incredibly impressive Christopher Lee as the aristocratic titular character. Other movie choices include “Nosferatu”, a 1922 German expressionist horror film, and “Interview with the Vampire” starring Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, and a young Kirsten Dunst.

If it’s something more lighthearted you’re looking for, Roman Polański’s “The Fearless Vampire Killers, or Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are in My Neck” will keep everyone entertained. Lesser known, but equally fun movies include Suck (one of my personal favourites), and Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter.

If you don’t plan on hosting a party, that does not mean you have to miss out on Dracula day—take the time to delve into the world created by Bran Stoker in his acclaimed novel. Reading a good book has never hurt anyone, and in the era social media’s 140-character blurbs of text, it is ever more important to keep the art of literature alive.

If you’ve already read it, consider tackling Anne Rice’s “Vampire Chronicles”, a series of 11 critically acclaimed books that follow influential vampires all throughout history. Stephen King’s “Salem’s Lot”. As you can see, there is no shortage of ways to celebrate the vampires of the world this Dracula Day!

Vampire Magick:

If you get really excited about all this talk of vampires, blood, and the undead, you might even be interested in exploring spells to “become a vampire.” Alternatively, you might want to play around with some protection against vampires spells, vampire prevention spells, or even a peaceful coexistence spell. They can all be found in the Book of Shadows, and Gypsy Magick and Lore.

Sources:

Days Of The Year

Checkiday

Wikipedia

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/pagancalendar/category/may-holidays/

[katdvs]

Lucas Friar moved back to Texas at 17, now he’s running for Mayor of Rosewood Springs so best friend Zay and little sister Gigi decide he needs a little help from a political consultant. Riley Matthews found her calling, she found a fiancé, but she never expected to find herself here, of all places.

Cross-posted to FF.net | Soundtrack | Past Chapters

Author Note: So, Thursday night I noticed I was close to my 70,000 post on tumblr and thought it would be super cool if the actual 70,000 post was the next chapter of TCTW. And I was sure I would finish the chapter quickly…but you know real life came up and stuff, so here we are Sunday and I’ve got this chapter done, and I still have time to prepare for my job interview tomorrow—wish me luck! Oh and special shoutout to @gmwpluto because she totally brought something up I hadn’t thought about, and it made this chapter better.

-be your man-

Zay stopped before taking a sip of the dark ale, as a chuckled escaped his lips and he looked at his friend, “That’s what’s going on?”

“Yup” he smiled sheepishly, “sounds like it all worked out.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I will.”

“Like tomorrow.” Zay pressed.

“I have campaign events, meetings, things to do for work.” He took a sip of his drink, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

Zay finally took a sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the oak bar top, “It has to come from you.”

He could feel Zay’s dark eyes on him, finally he relented, “Okay, I’ll go to Texas with you tomorrow and I’ll explain everything to Riley and Lucas.”

“Good Farkle, because let’s be honest they might not fully believe it if it came from anyone else.”

Earlier That Day

Lucas joined Topanga and a man he didn’t know on the steps outside the county courthouse. “They haven’t start yet have they? I had a sick goat.”

“Not yet Lucas, we still have time.” Topanga put her hand on his shoulder, “This is Eddie Parker, your lawyer. He’s got the restraining order against Dixie already placed, and he is prepared for any tricks her lawyer might try.”

“Nice to meet you.” Lucas said politely, but really, he just wanted to make sure Dixie couldn’t get anywhere near Riley or Gigi again.

“Lucas, I want you to be prepared, it is likely that her lawyer will try to get her an insanity plea.”

“She’s crazy, but she knew what she was doing.”

“Oh, I believe she knew exactly what she was doing. I think she’s very lucid, taking into consideration the charges, the history, her attorney will most likely try to get her sent to the mental health ward for at least an evaluation.” Eddie looked around, “I met Dixie yesterday, her Uncle tried to hire me as her attorney, she’s desperate, she’ll try to pull out any tricks she can.”

“I just want Riley, Gigi, and the babies’ safe.” Lucas told them, a knot growing in his stomach.

“Of course, and that’s why I called Eddie in.” Topanga reminded her son-in-law, “He’s the best attorney who ever interned for me, I try every year to lure him back to the New York office.”

“I did speak with the DA earlier today, they’re changing the charge from attempted homicide, to attempted murder in the first degree.” Eddie went over his notes, “They’re taking this very seriously, and they told me they plan to request that bail be denied since her Father recently moved away they feel she could be a flight risk.”

“Why is this happening?” Lucas’ brain felt flooded with information as he sat on the steps, “I never gave Dixie any reason to think she and I would get together, I actively avoided her for years. My wife and sister got hurt because she couldn’t accept it, we almost lost our babies because of her.”

“But you didn’t lose them, and Riley and Gigi are both fine.” Topanga sat next to him, “This isn’t your fault, it’s not Riley’s or anyone other than Dixie’s. She will pay for what she did.”

“I knew she wasn’t going to make things easy for Riley, she started a cake fight with her after Riley won the bake-off, but to go this far.”

Eddie looked down at the younger man, he could see the worry etched on his face, permeating from his soul, “Dixie is an entitled young woman, she obviously doesn’t understand boundaries, and people have let her get away with this for far too long.”

“I need her to be safe.”

“She will be.” Topanga assured him, “You love her, she loves you, you’re just starting your lives together, you have this hiccup right now, and years from now that’s what this will be. Just hold on to that.”

“I think I’ll hopefully feel better after the arraignment.”

Eddie glanced at his watch, “We should go in, it should be starting soon.”

Lucas nodded as he rose, helping Topanga up from the spot she’d been sitting next to him. They went into the courthouse, through the metal detectors, before finding the court room.

The trio sat in the back row, so as not to be too close that Dixie could see and misinterpret that Lucas was there to support her.

It was only another minute or so before the proceedings were called into session. “The Honorable Jack Cooper presiding. Today is September 25th. The Case of Texas V. Carmichael.”

Lucas felt a buzzing in his ears as he listened, wishing that none of this had happened. Wishing he could turn back time and do, say something different, wishing he’d gotten on a plane to New York to see Riley when she didn’t show up for his birthday, or told Dixie his heart would always belong to the girl from the subway, but he’d never given her any indication that he wanted her, so would any of that have mattered?

Dixie was brought in to her lawyer, Lucas heard Eddie whisper something to Topanga but he couldn’t make it out. They would explain everything later. For now, he felt like he was underwater as everything happened around him. He could see some of the local busy bodies sitting in, and honestly, he couldn’t blame them, this was big news for their quiet small town.

“Not Guilty your Honor.” Dixie’s voice cut through the sensory overload Lucas was experiencing and he grunted.

Topanga put a warning hand on his arm for him to remain calm, while the Judge continued through the proceedings.

“Bail is denied.” Finally gave Lucas a sigh of relief, at least she wouldn’t be out. It was only then that he realized the death glare his mother-in-law had been giving Dixie the entire time, just as Dixie turned to say something to her lawyer, only for her eyes to fall on Lucas.

“You came to support me.” She cried out as the room filled with commotion.

“Carolyn get your client reigned in.” Eddie shot her a warning look.

“Ms. Carmichael, I will warn you to behave in court or I will add contempt charges to the extensive list you already have.” The judge warned her. “There is a restraining order against you from Friar family, and I think you’ve proven today why that will stay in place. You will be held at the County Women’s Correctional facility until further notice.”

Lucas watched the Judge looking over a calendar, “The Trial will start on January 8th, of the new year.”

“That’s fast, this shouldn’t take too long at all, and the DA will bring her a plea bargain most likely that should be a reality check for her.” Eddie explained once they were adjourned and were getting up from their seats.

“I hope so, I would hate for Gigi and Riley to have the stress of a trial.” He admitted as they moved into the hall, he could feel Harris staring at them.

“Who is he?” Topanga adjusted the shoulder strap of her bag.

“Mayor Harris, Dixie’s Uncle.”

Topanga nodded before turning on her heel and marching straight over to him. “Mayor Harris, Topanga Matthews.”

He nodded not saying anything.

“Going for the strong silent type huh?” She took him in, at one point he’d probably been very popular with the ladies, “You obviously have enormous influence with your niece, perhaps you should use that influence to explain to her how much trouble she’s in.”

“I tried” he confessed, “She won’t listen to me.”

“Try harder, from what I under, she and you do not want the facts of this case dragged out for the public.” She walked away, leaving him to ruminate over what she’d said.

“What the hell is this?” Bonnie stood on the porch as two RVs pulled up the drive.

The screen door slammed against the frame as Cory came out, “What is this?”

“No idea.” She watched as a man got out of a car that accompanied the two larger vehicles. “Excuse me, what’s going on?”

“I have a delivery for Mrs. Friar, two RVs, it says they’ll be hooked up near the barn.”

“I didn’t order any RVs” Bonnie told him as Cory put a hand on her shoulder.

“Is the reservation under Riley Friar?”

The guy checked his paperwork over, “Yes, Riley Friar ordered these.”

Bonnie huffed, “I can’t believe this” before she threw the screen door open and stomped into the house.

“Sorry about that, my daughter ordered these and I have a feeling her mother-in-law is not pleased.”

“Can you sign for these?” He really didn’t care about the family drama, he just wanted to get back to his office before The Young and The Restless started.

“Of course.” Cory quickly signed just as one of the ranch hands came up to the house.

“Dr. Friar, wants these down here, we’ve got the hook ups ready to go.” He explained as he led them away.

Cory quickly left them as he bound into the house and up the stairs.

“What is with these RVs?” Bonnie’s demanding voice could be heard through the door.

“We thought things are a little crowded now, and we’re not entirely sure how long either you or my parents plan on staying. Gigi will be home in a few days, and well we could all use a little space.”

Cory entered the room, “They’re getting set up near the barn.” He told his daughter, “You sure you want it this way?”

“I think it’s best for all of us.” She looked at her mother-in-law, “Tensions are high, and its more for your comfort, and for Gigi’s.”

Bonnie frowned, her eyes fell, “I see. For Gigi.”

“I know things are tense, and she’ll need space. Just like Lucas and I need space.” She rubbed her hands together, “They’re top of the line, total comforts, basically little houses. You’ll be hooked up for internet and cable as well.”

“This is beyond disrespectful!” Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Riley.

“Mrs. Friar, you are Lucas’ mother, you will be the grandmother of the children I’m carrying. However, you did show up unexpectedly, insulted me, and Gigi. This is our home, Lucas and I discussed this last night and believe it’s best. You’ll have privacy, my parents will have privacy, and we’ll have privacy.”

“What do you need privacy for?” She wasn’t letting up.

“To rest you crazy woman.” Cory started to guide Bonnie from the room, “Go pack your and Grady’s stuff up. I’ll help you bring stuff out, but first I’m going to make sure Riley will be okay to be left alone for a little bit.”

Before Bonnie could reply Cory had closed the door and was already going back over to the bed. “Are you okay, do you need to go to the bathroom, need any food, water?”

“I’m fine Dad, I’m probably going to try and nap. Lucas should be home in a little while. The RVs are the same, or at least they should be.”

“I get why you did it, especially after that.”

“Where’s Grady?”

“He’s visiting Gigi and then he’s going to meet your Mom at the resort to talk with the crew.”

Riley nodded, “Okay, well I’m going to sleep now.”

“Rest up sweetheart, you’re sleeping for three now.”

“Thanks Dad.” She watched him leave, wondering if she was going to survive the full two weeks if they kept acting the way they were.

“Fallon please get back here.” Charlie raced after his child as a knock came on the door. “Drew don’t open that door!”

It was too late both his children were racing to the door fighting with each other over who got to open it as Charlie slid behind them just in time to see Zay on the other end, “Zay, what are you doing here?”

“I’m in New York, thought I would drop by, see how Maya is.” He rocked back and forth on his feet, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you. Is Riley okay?”

“I think so, I haven’t actually seen her.” He confessed as he came in, greeting both kids.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, “Zay, what’s going on?”

“My…friend, Gloria May is interviewing Farkle for some political website she does freelance stuff for. So, I’m going to try and get a chance to talk to him, find out why he did what he did.” Zay looked around the living room, he still couldn’t really wrap it around in his mind that Maya was a stay at home mom, expecting her third child.

“What did Farkle do?” Charlie studied his wife’s friend, what had been going on. He’d been confused for weeks, ever since Riley had shown up and broken up with Dave. “Zay, what has been going on since Riley came back to town in August?”

“Farkle and Isadora forced Riley out of the company, paid her like a ton of money.” Zay gulped, suddenly remembering why he hadn’t been a fan of Charlie, “And um Riley broke up with Dave because she really loves Lucas who she married like a week after she got back in Las Vegas, and yeah.”

“Does Maya know that?”

Zay shrugged, “I don’t think she does.”

Charlie took Zay by the arm as he brought him back to the bedroom, “Maya, you’ve got a visitor, all the way from Texas.”

Maya sat up in bed, not sure who could be here, “Zay, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m gonna talk to Farkle.” He felt a weird tension in the room, “So, how are you?”

“Pregnant and stuck in bed, otherwise I would smack you for not telling me Riley and Lucas got married.” She glared at him.

“So, she told you huh? I figured with their parents both there she would.”

“Yeah, she told me, and you knew, you were there.”

“I was, it was beautiful, I’m sure she’ll send you the video.”

“She already did. I haven’t watched it yet.”

Zay sat at the foot of the bed, “They couldn’t wait to be together, they called me and Gigi and we went to Las Vegas, we got dressed up, took a helicopter ride into the Grand Canyon, had the ceremony, cake, champagne, went back to Vegas and they went to bed…and yeah.”

“What did you do in Vegas?” Maya watched him, the signs where there, “Oh my God, you slept with Gigi, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?”

“Your foot, it’s tapping, you do that when you’re scared of making Lucas mad. Sleeping with his baby sister, how old is she Zay?”

“Nineteen, and she’s engaged to Lucas’ soon to be Junior Doctor.” Zay dropped his head, “And I think I’m in love with her, but she chose Deacon.”

Maya threw a pillow at him as he flopped down on her bed, “You’re an idiot. Are you in love with her or was it just good sex? And Zay I know you have no trouble getting laid.”

“That’s where it gets even more complicated, I’ve been sleeping with someone since we got back from Vegas, but she knows how I feel about Gigi.”

“How you think you feel.” Maya corrected him.

Zay ignored her tone, “And Deacon knows, he told me I had to stay away from Gigi. I think that’s part of why I came to New York with Gloria May, not only to try and talk to Farkle, but to escape a little bit.”

“Your whole group is ridiculous” Charlie flew to his feet, “Maya is the normal one. You’re in love with your best friend’s teenage sister, Farkle is forcing people out of companies they built and then stops talking to everyone, and Riley was engaged to my best friend and then like a week later married to someone else? But like in May, all of you were group texting each other all damn day long all up in each other’s lives. What the hell?”

“To be fair, Dave is engaged to Avery now. Remember that ridiculous wedding we have to go to in November, right after Gracie is born.” Maya rubbed her pregnant belly, as she started to laugh, “I want to be there when Dave finds out Riley and Lucas are married and expecting twins.”

Zay slowly sat up like a creepy doll in a horror movie as he looked to Maya, “Expecting twins, what are you talking about?”

She smirked, “You didn’t know? Huckleberry knocked her up good. I guess they found out in the hospital.”

Zay’s jaw just hung open for a moment, “I shouldn’t be surprised, before she came back to New York it was like any moment they were either going to kill each other or have sex. And once she was back, let me just say neither stopped smiling until the accident.”

“So, I guess we’re even.” Maya sighed, “You knew they got married, I knew she’s pregnant.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So, what’s your plan to see Farkle?”

Zay slipped his phone out of his pocket checking the time, “Gloria May should be sitting down to interview him right now. So, no one knows why they forced Riley out?”

“No, I can’t get him or Smackle to call me back. Riley said they’ve ignored her and Lucas.”

“And I haven’t gotten anything from him either.” Zay sighed, “I’m going to try and pop back in, just before he leaves and try and get him to talk to me.”

Charlie shook his head, “You people and your schemes, can’t you just let things play out like they should?”

“No” the two said in unison, smiles forming on their lips.

Frustrated he shook his head and went back to the living room where Drew could already be heard begging to watch Trolls again.

Maya looked to Zay, “I wish you luck, I’m glad you came by. Bed rest sucks.”

“I bet, how much longer are you stuck in bed?”

“Until this one decides to join us, so a few more weeks. At least Riley only has to do it these two weeks.”

“She’s on bedrest?”

“You really are out of the loop. You’re that scared Lucas is going to have a minute to think and realize you hooked up with his sister.”

He sighed, “I tried to deny it, I tried to ignore it Maya. I turned her down, I pushed her away.”

“But you gave in.”

“And pushed her away, then gave in again, told her what happened in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

“That’s just a stupid slogan they use so you’ll go there and lose all your money and do something you’ve been holding back.” Maya chewed on her lower lip for a moment as she thought, “Have you fought for her?”

Zay didn’t say anything for a moment, “I told her I love her.”

“Before or after she almost died?”

“After.”

“And then she told you she picked the other guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You have to fight for her you moron. You haven’t done that. You’ve given her no reason to think you love her, but love her body. She’s young, if she really loves you and you really love her, fight for her. Don’t just roll over dead and let the other guy win. Be the man she deserves.”

“What if I think she deserves more than me?”

“Figure out why you don’t feel like that’s you, and get your head out of your ass. I you love her and she loves you be together. Stop worrying about if Lucas is going to kick your ass, because let’s be real if you break his sisters heart, he will. But if you love her, you cherish her, he won’t.”

Zay groaned, “I hate when you’re the voice of reason.”

Riley woke up to her Mother bringing in a tray of food. “How was court?”

“She’s still in lock up, no bail.” Topanga set the tray up for her.

“How’s the resort?” Riley tried to sit up, feeling her muscles tense and aching.

Topanga sat on the chair next to the bed, “It looks amazing Riley, they showed me and Grady the plans, and I am so proud of you. Grady is going to hang around there when he’s not visiting Gigi. I saw the RVs, I think it was a smart decision.”

“Thank you.” Riley took a sip of water, “Any second thoughts I had about it went out the window when Bonnie flipped out over them.”

“She is” Topanga paused for a moment, “high-strung, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s Lucas’ mom, and his Dad like retired or something so they thought they could just come back here, but you and Grandma Amy got along well, right? How?”

“Well, at times, she could be critical, you know your father and I got married so young, even though we’d been together for so long, she will always be his mother, the first woman in his life, and when you get married the wife kind of takes that place as the care taker.” Topanga watched as Riley looked down at her abdomen, “You’ll realize it when you have those babies. I did when I had you, and Auggie.”

“Were you scared to become a mom?”

“Terrified, I had this life that I was going to be responsible for with your father, I was sure we were going to screw you up, I was even more terrified with Auggie.” She took Riley’s hand, “You are going to be an amazing mother, and you’ll have Lucas by your side for these two precious blessings.”

“Thanks Mom, it really means a lot that you think so.”

“I know so.” Topanga smiled, “Lucas loves you so much, it’s written all over his entire being. I could see today, just how worried he was for you. How much he wants to protect you, provide for you, care for you.”

“I really love him Mom, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Riley looked down at her phone as a text came in from Maya.

“What’s wrong honey?”

“Zay is in New York.”

“What’s he doing there?”

Riley shrugged, “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in a few days.” She quickly texted Lucas with the news before putting the phone down, “So Mom, want to binge watch Grace and Frankie with me?”

“I would love to.”

Lucas came back to his office, sinking down into his chair, rubbing his eyes. He had a few more patients to see and then he could go home, laydown with his wife, ignore their parents and sleep.

He saw the notification light on his phone blinking and he pulled up the text from Riley he had waiting. His jaw tensed as he read it before he quickly pulled up Zay’s number, only to have it go to voicemail, “What the hell are you doing in New York, you better have someone covering the bar tonight. Do you not comprehend what’s going on here? Call me back.”

Lucas slammed his thumb onto the end call button before storming out of the office and out to the street before going next door the Wild Z. The door was locked and a string of curses came flying for his mouth as he went back to the office.

“What’s wrong?” Deacon pulled him into an empty exam room.

“Zay ran off to New York, and no one is around to work the Wild Z. I have to find my key to get in and call people.”

“Why the hell is he in New York?”

Lucas threw his hands in the air, “I have no idea, I don’t know what is going on. I have enough to deal with and I don’t need Zay being a total flake on top of it.”

“Take a deep breath, breathe.” Deacon studied him, “I will cover things here, you go figure out the Wild Z. Come back when you have it covered. One thing at a time.”

Lucas sighed, “Thank you, I don’t even know who he has working there anymore. Gigi left, not that she could work anyways.”

Deacon tensed up, “Just go figure it out.”

Lucas went to his office grabbing his keys before he left to go back to the bar. He unlocked the door, turned the lights on before he went to set up the register. He didn’t work the bar often, really the only time he had was when Zay went to his cousin’s wedding in Dallas a few years ago. He turned the music on and went to the office to look for a schedule.

Right in the middle of Zay’s desk was the calendar, with his own name written down. Lucas shook his head as he sat in the chair. He started digging around for a call sheet, who the hell even worked here? He finally found one, and started making calls, but no one could come in. Two of the bartenders were off in Austin for school, the other his wife was in labor.

Lucas sat back, he knew they would have a crowd soon, it might not be a big one, but it would be something since Football was on tonight.

He went through the list, apparently everyone had the night off. He was going to kill Zay. He could feel a throbbing pain behind his eye when he saw Riley calling, “Honey, Hi.”

“Lucas, it’s Cory.”

Lucas wanted to throw his phone across the room and bang his head on the desk, “What’s going on?”

“You’re Dad and I were going into town, we wanted to know if you needed anything at the store.”

“The only thing I need are people to work at the bar tonight. Zay ran off to New York and apparently none of his employees can come in.” Lucas sighed as he heard Cory talking to someone.

“You’ve got two bartenders on the way.” Cory told him before hanging up.

Lucas looked at the phone confused, what Pandora’s box had he just opened?

Deacon opened the door to Gigi’s room, seeing her climbing back into the bed, “Hey you’re up, moving around.”

“Only a little bit, but its nice to be able to do.” She tried to get comfortable as he came over, planting a kiss on her lips, she felt a surge through her being. “How was your day?”

“Busy, Lucas went to the hearing, Dixie is being held without bail.”

“Good” Gigi continued trying to adjust the bedding.

Deacon put his bag down next to her bed, “How much do you hate that hospital gown?”

She glared at him, “I don’t want to see another one of these until I’m in labor with our child.”

Deacon stared at her, it was how easy the words had flown from her lips. It wasn’t something she forced herself to say, it was her honest statement. “We will, we will have as many babies as we can.” He ignored the tears in his eyes.

“We will?” She took his hand, “I want us to Deacon, I’m not as drugged up as I was before, so you need to know. I love you, I want to be with you.”

He kissed her hands, “I want that to.” He looked up into her green eyes, “you need to heal, I need to heal. But we will heal together.”

“I really like that idea.” She told him.

He kissed her hands, “I um” he sat up, wiping his eyes, “I brought you some pajamas that you had at my place, I talked to your doctor he said it’s okay for you to wear them instead of the gown if their loose enough.”

“Thank you.” She took the pajamas he pulled out, her favorite pair, she held them close to her, breathing in the scent of Deacon’s laundry detergent.

“You’re welcome, I found a couple of your school books, I don’t know if you want them or not.”

“Dad and I talked, I’m withdrawing from the semester. I’m going to miss too much school.”

Deacon reached out smoothing her hair, “You’ll go back in January, and you’ll graduate in the spring.”

“I’m going to go change into these. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here Gigi, I’m not going anywhere.” Deacon watched her walk to the bathroom and close the door, “I won’t run like Zay did.”

“You guys really don’t need to do this.” Lucas watched as his father and father-in-law dug through a box looking for Wild Z t-shirts.

“You need help, and we feel pretty useless on the ranch.” Cory told him.

“And your mother is driving me insane.” Grady pulled a shirt out and started to take his off.

Lucas closed his eyes, “Have either of you ever bartended before?”

“Back in college, when Topanga was in law school, I was student teaching, Riley was a baby.” Cory explained.

“I did a little in college to.” Grady pulled the black t-shirt on and shrugged, figuring it was good enough.

“Thank you, guys.” Lucas sighed, “I don’t know what Zay is doing in New York, but I just am thankful you’re both here to help.”

Cory had found a shirt and put it on, “So,” he clapped his hands together, “What are you doing about the grill?”

“I’ll handle that, limited menu, I printed it up.” Lucas gave them a few copies, “There are bartender guides behind the bar, I just I think it should be simple. A football crowd, we can handle this right?”

“Right, totally.” Grady smiled proudly as the three men left the back room, just in time for a few guys to come in, ordering beers.

Just as Lucas went to get the kitchen going he heard his father to Cory, “I lied I never bartended in my life.”

“Don’t worry, it can’t be that difficult, can it?”

“Thank you so much for your time today Mr. Minkus” Gloria May turned off her audio recorder.

Farkle stood up, buttoning his suit jacket, “Thank you so much for coming all the way from Texas to do this interview. When can I expect it to be on the site?”

Gloria May looked up, “Tomorrow evening, don’t worry your team will get a chance to look over it. I’m surprised you didn’t have anyone sitting in with you during this from your campaign team. My friend Riley always sits in with her fiancé when he’s getting interviewed and he’s just running for Mayor.”

Farkle adjusted his tie, “I’ve been around political consultants long enough to know when I do, and do not need them.”

“Like Riley” Zay was standing in the open-door way, leaning against the frame as he looked at his old friend. “Hey Farkle.”

“Zay, hey, long time no see.” Farkle started to loosen his tie. “What are you doing here?”

“Zay is a friend from home, he came with me since I’ve never been to New York before.” Gloria May took her things, “I’ll leave you two alone. I have work to do.”

Closing the door Zay crossed the room after Gloria May had gone into the bedroom, “You know I’ve called dozens of times, Lucas has, Maya has, Riley sure as hell has.”

“Yeah, I uh heard she and Dave broke up.” Farkle glanced at the back room. “He’s engaged to Avery, she’s a lawyer from his firm.”

“Good for him.” Zay held back the smirk itching to form on his lips. “How’s the wife?”

“Smackle is wonderful, enjoying her new challenges in life now that the consulting firm has closed.” Farkle circled around Zay, “So, is Gloria May your girlfriend?”

“It’s complicated.” Zay rubbed his chin with his fingers, feeling his phone vibrate he pulled it out and saw Lucas was calling he ignored it before turning his attention back to Farkle, “Which is probably the only way to describe what you and Smackle did to Riley.”

Farkle pursed his lips for a moment, “How is Riley?”

“Alive, which is amazing considering someone tried to kill her.” Zay realized at that moment that Farkle had no idea anything had happened to Riley. “You didn’t know?”

“Someone tried to kill Riley, of all the people why Riley?” Farkle ran a hand over his hair, silently praying that nothing he’d done had caused this.

“Because Riley is with Lucas.”

Farkle stepped forward, “Is she, or are they still playing for his election?”

“How about you and I go downstairs, have a drink, and we exchange some details.” Zay put his arm around Farkle leading him towards the door.

Farkle pulled away, “Are they together?”

Zay studied his friend, the desperate look in his eyes, the worry on his face, “Yes, they’re together.”

“They need to get married already.” Farkle ran his hand through his hair.

He pulled a picture up on his phone and handed it to Farkle without saying a word.

Farkle looked at the screen before looking back at Zay, “It worked, my stupid plan worked.”

“This was part of your plan?”

A smile came over his lips, “Yeah, you think we did this to be assholes? No, we looked at the information we had, and decided it was time to push the baby bird out of the nest.”

Riley glanced at the time on her laptop as she saw the glow of the headlights coming down the drive on the bedroom wall. She saved the document she’d been working on before closing the computer as she waited for the door to open.

When he came in, she couldn’t help but admire his form in the tight black t-shirt, but his body was carrying the weight of the world as he toed off his shoes and came over to the bed. “Hey why are you still awake?”

“Waited up for you” She caressed his cheek before he pulled away to go brush his teeth. “Zay texted me, he’s going to be back tomorrow afternoon, he says he’s sorry you had to work the bar tonight, but he hopes you’ll forgive him.”

Lucas came out from the bathroom his mouth half-full of toothpaste, “I’m too tired to be mad at him right now.” He finished up and came out, shedding his shirt, and pants, leaving on his boxers before crawling into bed.

“When do you have to be up?” She let her fingers run in his hair as he curled up against her.

“Noon” he released a content sigh, “Deacon is taking the house calls in the morning for me.”

“How was it working with my Dad and yours?”

Lucas sat up, rubbing his eyes, “I will never un-see the things I saw tonight. The Eagles were playing.”

“Oh no, what did my Dad do?”

“By tomorrow afternoon, I think the entire town will have seen your Fathers scoring dance.”

“Oh gosh, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was nothing compared to my own Father who decided to have a mini-Karaoke concert to sing Don’t Stop Believing.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “One day, you’ll do something like that and embarrass these two.”

Lucas put his hand on her abdomen, “I would and will do anything for you three.”

Riley snuggled closer to him after turning out the bedside light, “I know you’re stressed out right now, but honey you are an amazing husband. I’m so overwhelmed by how protective you are, how much you do to take care of me, your sister, your friends. It makes me fall in love with you just a little bit all over again with you.”

“I never thought we would be here, you and me, married, expecting twins.” He gasped as though it were starting to hit him in that moment.

Riley kissed his forehead feeling his body tense with anxiety. “Get some sleep, rest up babe. Let me take care of you.”

Lucas purred, “Just hold me” he felt like he breathed for the first time. “Mm, you smell good.”

“I need a shower, but not as badly as you do.” She could smell the food and beer from the bar in his hair.

He nuzzled her neck, “We’ll take one in the morning, a nice long one.”

“That sounds perfect.” She held onto him, listening to him breathing as she closed her eyes drifting to sleep.

[emloafs]

4 with Riley and maya please:)

Hope you enjoy! I really like writing this. Excuse any grammatical errors, I didn’t proof read this since it is just a drabble.

Rilaya + 4 You want to ask your crush to prom so badly, but you can’t think of any ways that aren’t disgustingly sappy or completely lame so you ask me how I dream of being asked. The next day you end up asking your crush and wait what are you asking me to prom?

send me a ship and a prompt number (prompts here)

Riley sighed dramatically beside Maya as they sat in their bay window. Maya pointedly ignored her, instead scrolling through her phone. Riley furrowed her eyebrows at her blonde friend and tried again. She sighed louder. After being ignored once again, Riley sighed even more audibly and stretched, splaying herself across the seat and over her friend’s lap. Her outstretched arm whacked Maya in the face.

The blonde pocketed her phone and moved her arms and glared at Riley.

“Can I help you?” she said, slightly annoyed.

Riley smiled, please with her success, and sat up. She scooted closer to Maya.

“I need help.”

“With what?” Maya looked confused. What did Riley need her help with? Riley could do everything and anything better than Maya could.

“So prom is coming up…”

Maya’s heart stuttered.

“And there’s this person I really want to go with.”

The blonde took a deep breath.

“But I need help coming up with a way to ask them, cause I have a feeling they wouldn’t like any of my ideas.”

“Do I know this person?” Maya hestitantly asked, trying to keep her emotions under control.

Riley’s eyes darted and if Maya hadn’t been staring intently at them, she would have missed it. She blushed a little.

“No, probably not,” she told her best friend.

“Oh.” Maya’s heart dropped and she did her best to disguise it. “Well how did you want to ask them?”

“Let’s just say it involved a lot of candy and confetti,” Riley said with a dreamy look on her face.

Maya raise an eyebrow, “And he wouldn’t like that? Are you sure you want to go with this guy?”

“Well, this person is more toned down. I have a feeling they would prefer something more reserved,” Riley explained.

“I think I know what you mean.” The blonde thought for a moment and then snapped, “I know exactly what you should do.”

—

Today was the day Riley decided she would prompose to her mystery man, and Maya felt sick all day. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wanted to cry. She didn’t show it. Her plan for the day was to make it through her day at school and then race home before she would get the urge to talk Riley out of it.

Surprisingly, she didn’t even see Riley at the end of the day. Maya spent the rest of her day sulking in her bedroom. As the sun began to go down she went to her kitchen and grabbed a pint of ice cream and a spoon. Drowning her heartbreak in ice cream sounded like a perfect night to Maya. She walked back to her room and screamed when she flicked on her light and saw Riley clumsily climbing into her window.

At the sound of Maya’s scream Riley quite gracefully fell from her position halfway through the window and onto her face. Maya rushed to help her up. Once the tall girl was on her feet she grinned happily.

“Maya!”

“Yeah, hey Riles, what are you doing in my room?” Riley ignored her question.

“I don’t know how you climb into my window everyday because that was really hard. I’m going to use the door to leave,” Riley decided as she closed her friend’s window.

“Riley, I’m confused what-”

“Maya, I need you come with me.” s

“Of course,” Maya replied without missing a beat.

Riley grabbed the blonde girl’s hand and began to drag her out of her room.

“Wait, what are we doing?” Maya asked bewildered, trailing behind the tall girl. They exited her apartment building turned the street in the opposite direction from the route to Riley’s home. “Where are we going? Didn’t you have to prom-pose tonight?”

“Stop asking questions, peaches,” Riley threw her a mischievous grin. Well, that was out of character.

Maya sighed frustrated but didn’t protest. She almost let herself enjoy the feeling of Riley’s hand in her own as they walked down the street. Almost. Maya couldn’t help smiling at Riley’s happy expression, however. The brunette weaved her through the busy city sidewalks.

The night was loud and the city was bustling. The sky was dark but the world around the two girls was bright and shining over them. Traffic lights, buildings, street lamps gleamed over them. Maya stared at Riley’s illuminated form, deciding she looked beautiful. The shining city didn’t do even compare to the light within Riley.

The brunette led them into Central Park, and Maya once again felt confused. What was Riley doing?

The tall girl paused and turned to Maya.

“You have to close your eyes for the rest of the walk,” Riley said almost apologetically.

Maya narrowed her eyes, “Okay, but if I walk into a tree I’ll sue you. I have a very good lawyer.”

“You can use my mom as your lawyer in a lawsuit against her own daughter,” Riley giggled.

“Fine I won’t sue, but I’ll be very mad.”

“Then I’ll be very careful guiding you,” Riley spoke softly and her voice was full of care.

Maya slowly let her eyes fall closed. She felt Riley all around her. They resumed their walk and Maya felt a spark of nerves in her stomach. This was all very unlike Riley. Maya was always the one to take her on adventures and make Riley feel nervous.

Maya didn’t even notice they stopped walking until Riley spoke.

“Wait right here. I’ll tell you when to open your eyes.”

The blonde only nodded.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, but soon she heard Riley’s voice again.

“Okay,” she sounded nervous. “Open your eyes.”

Maya took a deep breath and slowly the world came back into focus. She gasped as her eyes fell on the scene before her.

Fairy lights covered the trees around them, weaving between branches and trunks. Delicate, soft violin music fluttered in her ears and she looked around to see Smackle standing off to the side in a sophisticated black dress, almost unnoticeable in the dark, playing her instrument. Maya looked down at her feet and saw rose petals trailing from where a series of tea light candles lay. Maya pieced together what the candles spelled out. They were arranged meticulously, spelling out four characters perfectly. Rose petals rested around the gleaming letters P-R-O-M-?

All of this beauty didn’t compare to the girl Maya saw standing behind the display. Riley stood about ten feet away, standing shyly with a rose in her hand.

“Riley, this is all so beautiful,” Maya said beaming, but inside her chest ached. She looked around and wondered aloud, “So where’s the guy you’re asking?”

In the distance behind Maya, she heard someone groan and another person say, “are you kidding me?” and then a third voice, “shut up!” Maya recognized each voice and had a feeling Lucas, Zay, and Farkle were all hiding in the bushes behind her. They wouldn’t miss Riley’s promposal.

Riley’s smile only wavered a moment as she stared at Maya. “Well, I’m kind of looking at her.”

Maya’s eyes furrowed at the statement and then again at the word “her.” She looked around again, wondering if she missed someone walking up to them.

“Maya.” Riley’s voice drew her back and the brunette gave her a pointed look.

It all clicked.

“Wait are you asking me?” Maya asked astonished.

Riley nodded timidly.

“This is- this is insane. I mean- what? Me? I’m your mystery crush? How- what?” words flew out of her mouth as Maya tried to wrap her head around the idea. “You want to go to prom with me?”

Riley nodded again and smiled.

Maya felt tears well up in her eyes. “How could I even attempt to say no? Hell yeah I’ll go with you. A million times yes, Riley.”

The tall girls grin could have lit up all of New York by itself and Maya wanted to be the cause of that smile all the time. Riley maneuvered around her candle display and threw herself at Maya.

Maya caught her and wrapped her arms around her waist as the brunette tucked her face into her hair.

“You know you could have just told me you wanted to go with me instead of being secretive about it,” Maya said when they pulled apart.

“But then I couldn’t tell everyone about how our first kiss was in Central Park under a grove of shining trees and with rose petals beneath our feet,” Riley whispered.

Then before Maya could even get a questioning word out, the brunette leaned down and sealed their lips together. Maya smiled into their kiss. She knew then and there that she would never tire of this feeling. Riley was her world. And evidently, a pretty good kisser too. 

[geckogirl89]

An Unorthodox Proposal

Written for OTP Idea #370 on @otpisms: Your OTP only getting married for tax benefits. Also inspired by the story hoʻokāne by Siria (which is great and everyone should go read).

Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Pairing: Steve/Danny Rating: T (only for language) Word Count: 1520 Notes: Set after 7.18, so some spoilers for the latest episode. For the purposes of this story, Steve and Danny are conveniently single.

Since Danny had started working for Five-0, he had gotten used to all kinds of crazy things happening, from faked tsunamis to nuclear bombs that had to be discharged in the middle of a jungle. Danny could typically roll with the insane and unexpected things that happened on cases these days.

But he had never expected Steve to just enter his office on an ordinary Tuesday morning and declare, “We should get married.”

Danny, flummoxed at this random proposal, just said “What?!” His voice may have squeaked a little, because seriously, what the hell was going on? If Danny hadn’t been quite so surprised, he might have launched into a rant about how you have to at least date someone for a few months before you can ask them to marry you. You can’t just suddenly, out of the blue, propose to your best friend without even kissing them first.

But then Steve sat across the desk from Danny and produced paperwork. All kinds of paperwork detailing the “logical” benefits of marriage.

“It just makes sense for us, Danno,” Steve said, as if he was being the reasonable one. Danny was starting to wonder if maybe being in the SEALs or having this job had impacted Steve more than anyone thought. Danny was used to his partner's harebrained schemes, but this plan showed that Steve had finally cracked and lost whatever vestiges of sanity he had.

Steve showed Danny how much they would each save on taxes if they got married. He pulled out an “estimated” calculation for Danny, who questioned how his partner knew how much he had to pay in income taxes each year.

“I talked to a financial planner,” Steve replied, as if that was a totally normal thing to do.

He went through more paperwork, explaining how marrying Danny would mean that Steve would still be entitled to visitation with Danny's kids in the event that something bad happened to him. They would also both have next-of-kin benefits in the event that either of them ended up in the hospital. Steve ran through the other legal benefits, and Danny's head was swimming by the end of his speech. Steve had obviously discussed this with some kind of attorney.

“Plus, think about it this way. When we open Steve’s, you can say that you named the restaurant after your husband. That would be a better story than saying you named it after your friend, and it will probably get us more business.”

Danny was too stunned to even protest naming his hypothetical retirement restaurant after Steve. Hell, in the grand scheme of things, this wasn't that different from how things went with them. Steve made Danny his partner, and now he was apparently going to make him husband as well. Naming Danny's restaurant after himself was just part of his typical tendency to end up controlling Danny's life.

“Of course, you can keep seeing other people,” Steve continued. “It's not like I'm going to tie you down just because we're technically married.”

Danny wouldn't admit to it, but his heart shattered at the idea of being only “technically married” to Steve. He had tried to not let his unrequited feelings for his partner extend to thinking about actually marrying him, but Danny had to admit that a sham marriage was the exact opposite of the hopes and dreams he had attempted to ignore.

Something of what he felt must have shown on his face, because Steve patted him on the shoulder in a comforting manner. “I know it's a big decision, so I'll give you some time to think about it, buddy.”

Buddy, right. Danny had to get that through his head.

Once the day began, Steve just treated it like a normal day at the office, like he hadn't just asked Danny to marry him. It only made Danny feel worse, honestly, and he was a lot more quiet than he would normally be. When he wasn't focusing on their current case, he was pondering how exactly to tell Steve he couldn't marry him without giving away his feelings.

Steve was right, in that the “marriage” would end up saving them money and would provide a number of legal benefits, some of which would make life easier for Danny. But Danny couldn't marry Steve for such cold, unemotional reasons.

By the time the team was eating lunch, Danny was feeling too sick to touch his shrimp. He kept imagining a bizarre, fake marriage to Steve and wondering what would become of his life. Would they have to lie to all of their friends and loved ones, letting them think they were “in love” while privately acting like platonic friends? Danny didn't think he could do that.

“Hey, are you all right?” Chin asked. “You seem kind of off today.”

He gave Chin the best, most reassuring smile he could. “I'm fine.” He shot a quick, annoyed glare at Steve. “Just have a lot of things on my mind today.”

Danny was still in a state of heartbroken confusion throughout the afternoon. He was finishing up some paperwork after the end of the case, when it suddenly hit him. “Son of a bitch,” he said to himself.

He stormed into Steve's office, closing the door behind him and locking it. He didn't want any of their coworkers to witness this particular conversation. “You said I could see other people? How the fuck do you think that's going to work?”

Steve, who was sitting at his desk, frowned up at Danny. “Well, being married might cut into your dating pool somewhat, but I think if you just explain the situation--”

"Explain the situation? What exactly is the situation, Steven? Apparently, I can see other people, but you can’t?!” Danny paced in front of Steve's desk, too wound up to just stand like a normal human. “Through that entire conversation, it was all ‘we’ and ‘us,’ even when it came to things like the restaurant or my children. But you get to that topic, and then suddenly it's all about me?!"

Steve looked nervous. He glanced away. “I told you, Danny, I don’t want to tie you down.”

“But you’re willing to tie yourself down?” Danny sighed and steepled his hands together. “Babe, please, just tell me what's going on.”

“I can’t,” Steve muttered. He was staring at the desk as if it held the answers to all of the questions in the universe.

Danny shook his head. “Why not?”

Steve's gaze darted up to Danny's face and away again. He didn’t say anything, but he didn't need to. The depth of pain in that glance, brief as it was, was enough to make Danny feel like his entire world had just been flipped upside down.

“You... you don't want to see other people, do you? Steve, that’s--”

“Look, can we just not talk about this?” Steve crossed his arms and stared up into Danny's eyes. “Just because I have... feelings... It doesn't have to change anything.”

Danny smiled sadly. He could tell that Steve actually believed that his own feelings were somehow irrelevant. He knew Steve could be a self-sacrificing idiot at times, but this was just ridiculous.

Danny walked closer and perched on the edge of Steve's desk. “I have conditions.”

Steve looked confused. “Conditions?”

Danny nodded, privately enjoying that he was going to be the one to surprise Steve for once. “I’ll marry you, but you have to take me out for dinner first. And it has to be real. None of this ‘we can see other people’ crap.”

Steve released a happy laugh. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack, babe.”

Steve stood up. “If I had known it would be this easy, I wouldn’t have prepared that big speech.”

Danny grinned. “You didn’t have to talk to that financial planner or lawyer either.”

“I guess not.” Steve stepped closer, and his hand hovered over Danny's shoulder like he was shy about touching him. Danny had never seen this side of Steve before, and it was beyond adorable. “If... uh... if you want it to be real, that means I can kiss you, right?”

Danny chuckled. “You can.”

As Steve leaned in and finally kissed him, Danny reflected that the entire course of events that had transpired today was kind of crazy. But Danny was going along with it, so he must be kind of crazy too. He let his eyes close as he returned the kiss and decided that he was fine with being crazy if it got him everything he had ever wanted.

Steve broke the kiss and beamed at Danny. He looked happier than Danny had ever seen him. He sat back down in his chair and did something on his computer.

“Babe, what are you up to?”

Steve seemed very focused on whatever he was doing. “Looking up where we'll go for dinner and booking an online reservation.” He smirked over at Danny. "That was part of your conditions, right?"

Danny laughed. “Right. That was basically my only condition.”

Steve winked at Danny. “I better go ahead and book that reservation then.”