#figure it out on your own find surrogates its none of his business

[baby-xemnas]

Y'know

Zoro is the pirate queen

Bepo is the pirate princess

But Killer?

He's the pirate goddess. All-knowing, handsome, powerful

I bet if Kid could impregnate Killer, they'd have the most divine children ever: both smart and beautiful as their "mother"

GODDESS OF PIRACY SO TRUE

and u are right

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 1

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  3305

Rating:  E

Warnings: Injuries, smut (M\F, oral sex, vaginal sex, public sex)

Synopsis:  A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

A/N:  Just a reminder as this is a new series you must tell me (preferably by ask) that you want to be tagged or continue to be tagged.

Chapter 1

The sky was on fire.  Everything around you was chaos.  People running for their lives and parts of buildings crashing to the ground.  You were trying to not let the crowd drag you along with them because all you could think was there was nowhere you could go right now that would be safe and if you were going to die, you didn’t want it to be at the bottom of a pile of corpses.

You ducked down a side alley that stunk of trash but was blessedly empty of people.  As you took a moment to decide what you would do next, there was a cry from above you and a figure rocketed down from the side of the building, managed to grab hold of the fire escape just long enough to dislocate his shoulder and slow his fall, before landing on top of a dumpster with a loud crash and rolling onto the ground.  You rushed over to the figure that seemed to be trying to struggle to its feet.

“You probably shouldn’t move,” you said, crouching down and pushing him back a little.  It wasn’t until that moment that you realized this was an actual Avenger.  Not just any Avenger either, Hawkeye, one of the original ones.  You wondered what he was doing in your town and if there were any other Avengers here.  If there were, maybe you weren’t as doomed as you’d originally thought.

“Gotta,” Clint groaned trying to push you back off him.  “Need to get back.”

“You’re an archer and at the very least you’ve dislocated your arm,” you reasoned.

“Not dislocated,” Clint groaned, rolling onto his side.  “Broken.  And some ribs.  Might have bruised my spine.”

You helped him to sit up and furrowed your brow.  “I might be able to help you,” you said.  “A little anyway.  Help you get back.”

“What?  You a drug dealer?”  Clint asked, pulling his arm in against his side.

“No,” you said. “I’m enhanced.  I need you to kiss me.  And not like a peck.  With your injuries, it’s gonna need a full-on make-out session just to get you up.”

Clint’s face did not hide his emotions at all.  He furrowed his brow in confusion, then widened his eyes in surprise.  His lips pursed together as he considered if you were telling the truth and then a large smile broke out on it.  “If you wanted to make-out you just had to ask.”

You leaned in and licked your lips, wetting them well before bringing them to the archer’s.  The spark happened immediately as your powers engaged.  People often thought it was that spark that happens in stories where two people who are meant for each other finally kiss and fall in love.  The first time it happened you’d even fallen for that and you and the guy had ended up dating for a year too long before you realized that maybe there was no such thing as fate, and if there was it could go fuck itself because you weren’t spending another day with that jackass, destiny be damned.

Clint made a soft choked sound and his hand went to your hair drawing you in closer and deepening the kiss.  It was good really.  Even if he was caught up in the feel of your lips against his, and that spark that ran between you it would help with the process.  You teased your tongue into his mouth and he let out a moan as they started to actually do their job.

You were a healer.  Your powers worked perfectly in your own body.  You never got sick, if you cut yourself it would heal instantly.  One time you had been riding a bike and hit a rock.  It sent you sprawling and you heard a loud crack in your shoulder and a flare of white-hot pain.  People had come running to help but when you got back up, there had been absolutely nothing wrong.  Not even a scrape.

They didn’t work so perfectly on other people.  You’d figured out through some accidental trial and error that it worked through bodily fluid exchange.  Kissing could work on cuts and scrapes, but you’d normally need to donate blood to get to the level of healing Clint Barton currently needed, and that only worked if they were a compatible blood type.  There were other ways that worked better than kissing of course.  None you wanted to do right here in the street with a complete stranger even if you could talk him into it.

You swirled your tongue with his and licked over the corner of his mouth, dragging the kiss out as long as possible.  When you finally pulled back, his bruises were gone and most of his cuts.  The arm was definitely still broken but he seemed to be holding it a little better.

“Holy shit,” Clint said.  “I - uh -”

“You aren’t in love with me,” you assured him.  “Don’t worry.  Go save the world.”

He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his bow from where it had fallen a few feet away.  “I wanna talk to you when all this is done.”

“If you save the world, I’ll meet you back here,” you agreed reluctantly.  You didn’t know if you'd just plunged yourself into deep water by outing your abilities to an actual Avenger or if he was stuck the ‘true love’s kiss’ groove and you were going to have to knock him out of it, but either way, you were dreading it, even if it did mean the world was safe.

You left the alley not long after Clint and ended up sheltering in a tunnel while you waited out the battle.  As the sounds of fighting and explosions died down and the sky began to return to its usual blue, you dared to set back out again.  Clean up crews and emergency services had arrived and it was a little difficult evading them, but you eventually made your way to the alley.

Clint was waiting for you alone.  It looked like he'd seen a medic.  His arm was now in a sling and he had stitches in his cheek.  “Was starting to think you weren't gonna show,” Clint said.

“They aren't letting people back into the hub of the damage,” you explained.  “Had to sneak past a bunch of barricades.”

“Well, aren't you resourceful?” Clint said playfully.  “You got anywhere we could talk?  Preferably where I could also get very, very drunk?”

“I doubt anything is gonna be open around here,” you said.  “Might have to go further out.”

Clint nodded and the two of you walked out looking for a bar together.  He was limping a little and you considered offering your services again, but the looming conversation held you back. You didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

By the time you did find a bar that was open you had hyped up the conversation so much in your head, you were fairly sure he was going to either propose or send you to the raft for being unregistered and breaking the Sokovia Accords.

“Shots?”  Clint asked as you went into the busy bar.

“Yeah.  Definitely,” you agreed.  “And get food.  I’m starving.  I’ll find a table.”

It took a while to find anywhere to sit.  It was like half the city had decided to drink after the events of the day and this was the only bar open.  You ended up having to share a table with a group of women who seemed to already be halfway to fully drunk.

“So,” Clint said, placing a tray of shots on the table and sliding into the booth beside you.  “Enhanced, huh?”

 “Yeah,” you said and took your first shot.  He’d gotten Kaluah of all things, though you were grateful for the soft warmth of the coffee liqueur over a harsh burn of something like whiskey.

Clint chuckled and took his own shot. “Gonna make me beat it out of you, are you?”  He teased.  When you didn’t answer he shook his head and continued.  “How’d it happen?”

You shrugged.  “Don’t really know exactly,” you say. “I got sick as a kid, and they put me on this drug trial.  I got better and I don’t think I’ve been sick since, but it was such a long time between the trail ending and me noticing that I could actually heal myself that I can’t say for sure it was that or something else.”

You both took another shot and Clint scratched at his arm like it was annoying him. “So just healing?” He asked.

“That’s not enough?”  You shot back.

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back.  “No, that’s plenty.  More than I’ve got,” he conceded.  “You’re pretty defensive you know?”

You sighed and sunk back into the chair.  The alcohol was already making your head feel fuzzy and you were worried you were going to get into a fight with Hawkeye right in the middle of the bar.  “I can just see how this conversation goes.  You’re either gonna convince me to join the Avengers or you’re thinking about the kiss and that spark and you wanna ask me out.”

“That kiss was pretty great,” Clint teased.

“I know, it’s the powers,” you said.  “People think it’s some kind of soulmate thing.  I’ve had stalkers because of it.”

Clint waited as you took another shot.  One of the bar staff came over and put a plate of sliders and curly fries down and you both started to eat.  “God, I needed that,” Clint said with his mouth full.

“You did do a lot today,” you said.

“Yeah, I saved your ass and you won’t even date me,” he teased.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t date you,” you argued.  “I just don’t want an Avengers stalker.”

“Don’t worry,” he said.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, if you wanted to kiss me again, I wouldn’t fight you off, but I get it.  It was something to do with the healing.”

“Yeah,” you said.  “Energy transference I think it is.”

There was another pause and you both took another shot.  You were drunk now, you knew it.  Normally you would be more careful about drinking this much with a strange man but there had been so much today, and he was an avenger.

“Why don’t you want to be an Avenger?” He asked.

You sighed.  “I’d be useless.  What am I gonna do, follow you all around and make-out every time someone gets a scratch?”

He laughed.  “That’s the only way it works?”

“It’s a bodily fluid exchange.  I could have spit in your mouth, but I thought that would be hard to talk you into,” you explained.

Clint laughed and held his side.  “You kidding? I normally have to pay people to do that.”

You completely lost it laughing.  “Oh my god!”

“Alright, alright, don’t make me laugh,” Clint said.  “My ribs are still busted.”

“Want me to help with that?” You offered.

He looked you up and down and chewed his bottom lip.  “Dunno.  Next time we make out, I want it to be because you want to make out with me.”

You giggled and heat rushed to your face.  It was not a reaction you were used to but then you weren’t used to good looking superheroes hitting on you either.

“So, if it’s bodily fluids, would blood work?” He asked.

“Blood works best,” you said.  “But I can’t keep myself bleeding long enough to do a bleed into their wound thing, and if it’s a blood transfusion, they still have to match my blood type.”

“Well that could still be useful,” he said.  “Maybe you are the same blood type as some of us?  You could come and see?”

You sighed and picked up the last shot on the tray.  Since you got your powers you had wanted to help, but they were so limited you hadn’t been able to find a way to do that and have it actually work.  You gave blood regularly and hoped that might have led to some of the miracle recoveries some people go through, but apart from that, there wasn’t much you could do.  At least agreeing to go with Clint to see if you might be able to help was something you could do.

“Fine,” you sighed.  “I’ll go with you, but I warn you, my powers are so limited.  I doubt it’ll come to anything.”

“Great,” Clint grinned and put his arm around your shoulders.  “Now, to trying to get you to want to kiss me for real.”

You laughed and drank the shot.  Clint went up and got more drinks.  This time just a pitcher of beer for the two of you to share.  Whether it was the alcohol, the stress, the thrill that he was an Avenger or maybe that he seemed to be a completely likable dumbass, you weren’t sure but it didn’t take long until you were locked together, kissing passionately and finding yourself getting more than a little bit turned on.

You were practically sitting on his lap as his hands slid up under your skirt.  The spark that ran from you to him, was like a hot current, pulling you to him.  He moaned into your lips, completely uncaring that there were people around you.  It was likely that part of that was due to the fact you’d been at it for so long his bones were knitting, but he was definitely as turned on as you were, you could feel his erection every time he pulled you closer to him.

You gripped his thigh and he broke the kiss and began sucking on the pulse point under your ear.  “I want to fuck you so fucking bad.”

“My place was in the fall zone,” you whined.

He gripped your thigh and pulled you so you were almost straddling him.  “Bathroom,” he growled against your ear.

You nodded and he pulled you to your feet.  The two of you stumbled to the bathrooms, making out against the wall as you waited for one to become free.  As soon as it did, Clint pushed you inside, locking the door behind you.  He was still sore you could tell, but even with the broken arm and ribs, he managed to lift you up onto the sink.  You spread your legs and he dragged your panties down.  You were already soaking for him, and he dropped to his knees and ran his tongue up your cunt.  The spark you felt as your powers engaged ran hard through your cunt, making you jerk your hips.  You braced your arm against the mirror and gripped the side of the sink as Clint held your legs apart and greedily sucking on your folds.  He moaned loudly and his tongue pushed inside of you like he was trying to drink you up from the source.  You rocked your hips against his face and he began to focus on your clit, sucking and biting at it.  He thrust two fingers inside you and fucked you hard with them.  With the current that was running through you, you were barely holding it together.  You panted, your head resting back on the grimy glass of the mirror above the sink.  Clint’s fingers moved inside you, dragging over your g-spot again and again.  You weren’t sure you were going to be able to hold yourself up and your legs kept wanting to snap night around his head.  He held them apart and kept going and with a loud cry, you came, gushing on his face.  He let out a moan to match your cry and lapped up what he could.  He stood and began to fish around in his pocket.

“Jesus, I think my ribs have healed.  Should have eaten you out in the field,” Clint teased.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?”  You laughed.

“Fucking filthy one,” he growled.

You grabbed him by the belt and began to unfasten his pants.  “Clint,” you said, still breathing heavily.  “I’m on birth control and I’m a healer.”

A slow smile played over his lips and he pulled his cock out.  “Well, then,” he said and thrust deep inside of you.

You both moaned, the spark returning again.  There was a banging on the door and you buried your face in his neck.  “Fuck,” you giggled.  “Gonna need to be quick.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Clint teased, playfully.  “I can do ‘quick’.”

You burst out laughing and let your head fall back, he held you close and started fucking you hard and deep.  He shoved you up against the wall with every thrust and you bit into his shoulder, moaning into his skin.  Your fingers dug into his back and you braced a foot on the wall.  Everything came together perfectly, the place, the person, your powers, how deep and hard he penetrated you, you lost yourself to it.  Your body spasmed and clenched and you came again, holding yourself as close to Clint as you could as it shuddered though you.  He thrust hard into you, holding you in place as he came.  “Fuck,” he groaned as his cock pulsed with it’s released.  “That was…”

“Mm-hmm…” you hummed and he slipped from within you.  “The healing thing always makes it more intense.”

“How come it’s done nothing for my ears?”  Clint asked as he tucked his cock back away.  “I mean, everything it’s been working on, but I still have my hearing aids on?”

You shook your head as you straightened yourself back up and pulled up your underwear.  “Don’t know.  The worse the injury or illness the more exchange has to happen.  I can’t do things like regrow body parts.  It does nothing for scar tissue.  And the older the injury the less likely it is to work at all.”

“Huh,” Clint said and there was another banging on the door.  “You ready?”

You nodded.  “Yeah, better let the people pee.”

The two of you walked back into the crowded bar.  “You coming home with me?”  Clint asked as he took out his phone and tapped around on it.

You shrugged.  “I guess.  I mean, I don’t even think they’ll let me near my place.”

“Cool,” Clint said casually.  “To the roof.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him.  He just pointed the way so you followed after him.  As you reached the roof a large black military jet approached and then hovered above you both.  The back end of it opened up and it began to lower itself down, when it was within reach, Clint jumped up into the back and leaned over, holding his hand out to you and helping you scramble inside.

You followed him up to the cockpit as the back end closed again.  “Thanks for coming to get me, Nat,” Clint said, kissing the redhead at the cockpit on the cheek.

She scrunched up her nose and ruffled his hair.  “What was I supposed to do?  Leave you here?”

You watched them as you took your seat and buckled yourself in.  There was an easy affection between them and you realized, they were together.  Together-together.  You’d just helped Hawkeye cheat on Black Widow.

Bile started to bubble up from your stomach and you weren’t sure what to do.  You could keep it secret and let it eat at you forever, or you could tell her and she’d probably stab you.  It wouldn’t kill you, but being stabbed still hurt and you didn’t want it to happen.

Your conscience seemed to be in control though.  The words bubbled up and burst out of your mouth completely out of your control.  With a yelp and covering your mouth with your hands, you shouted; “Clint and I just had sex!”

// NEXT

[aniray]

Where You Least Expect It...

Here's the first part of my 5 part story.

It's Tommy x Lizzie. A Modern Surrogacy AU

~*~

“I’m so nervous, Thomas.”

Tommy looked over a Grace. Her golden hair was falling a bit out of the neat ponytail she had put it in that morning. She was fidgeting with the brochure from the clinic. If she twisted it anymore, Tommy was sure the thing would tear apart. But he didn’t say anything. He simply reached over and pulled the brochure out of her hand.

“Thanks,” she sighed. But two seconds later she was running her fingers along her brow. “God, Thomas, we tried so hard. And we’ve spent so much on all of this. Should we have gone with adoption?” They had had this same conversation the night before, and last week, and two months ago. But the answer was always the same. Grace sat up straighter, her head lifting a bit in determination. “No, this is what I want for us. A baby that’s at least part you, even if it can’t be part me as well.”

It had taken Grace a long time to accept the doctors’ verdict that she wouldn’t have children. After months and months of hormone treatments and strict dieting and far too many nights of his wife crying herself to sleep, Grace had let go of the idea of carrying her own child. And then there were even more months of trying to harvest her eggs. But when none of them were viable, Tommy had to step in before depression stole Grace away from him.

So they had turned to surrogacy. It wasn’t quite what Grace had wanted- having to use another woman’s egg as well as her body. But it was the closest to what Grace wanted and could actually get. So Tommy had gone to information seminars. He had read up on the different agencies. And when Grace had picked a place and a girl, Tommy didn’t voice his own worries. This was what Grace needed and he needed her, so this was what they would do.

The GPS told Tommy to take the next turn. But he’d already memorized how to reach the facility. Planning was what he did when he was unsure about things. Take control wherever he could had always been his way, but even more so since this whole fertility process had started. Polly was annoyed about it. Arthur was pulling at the leash. And John had gone and fucked his way into early fatherhood.

Something Grace wouldn’t admit she was hurt and bitter about.

Another turn and the facility came into view. It was nothing special, just a plain brick building. But it was clean and highly recommended. And mostly it was discreet- something Tommy had insisted on even if Grace hadn’t been concerned. Business was doing well and that always brought people who would rather Tommy or his loved ones not be breathing.

Pulling into a parking spot, Tommy turned the car off and turned to face Grace. “You ready?” He watched the emotions flit across her face. It was something not many people got to see. Grace had been raised to keep her emotions to herself. And then she had worked as a financial security investigator. Succeeding in that world meant not letting CEOs and their like see you anything other than calm and in control.  So for her to show her fear and her anxiousness with him was just another thing to prove that they were supposed to be together.

“I don’t know. I just- I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s all been arranged. The papers have been signed.” She turned to look at him and Tommy felt a twinge in his chest at the tears in her eyes. “Its not even me who has to do anything. You’re the one about to…you know.” Tommy smiled. Always so proper.  “But what if we do it and she changes her mind? Or you change your mind? What if-“

“I’m not changing my mind. She won’t change hers, either. And even if she does, this baby will be a Shelby. That’s why we got a lawyer for all of this, remember?” Tommy tucked a few strands of her hair back up into her ponytail. “Now, come on. It would look a bit bad if we were late because we took too long in the parking lot.”

Grace gave him a smile- the one that always seemed to make his world a bit brighter. “You’re right. I’m ready.” With a quick nod, Tommy got out of the car and went around to open the passenger door. Grace didn’t hesitate. She got out and took his hand as he closed the door. She was calm and strong and beautiful walking beside him.

And he’d be damned if this all went to shit.

~*~

The clinic was cold.

It always was, but today it bothered Lizzie a little bit more than the other times she’d come. They had her sitting in a small conference room, waiting for the couple she’d agreed to carry for- the Shelbys. Grace and Thomas Shelby. Wealthy, and from what Lizzie had heard from a staff member, trying this before settling for adoption. She didn’t like that word- settling. It reminded her of too many decisions she’d made in her life. 

But that wasn’t really the point, was it? No, the point was, she was sitting in a cold room about to meet the people she’d be dealing with for the next ten months more or less. And she still wasn’t sure this was what she wanted. You already signed the damn papers, Lizzie. The thought didn’t make her feel any more ready for this. But she was a bit desperate.

Ryan, the asshole, had harassed her for years before she finally quit working for him. She had dealt with enough men putting their hands on her in her life. That’s why she had left her home town, club work and waitressing all behind her. And now she was leaving Ryan and his too small office and his too rough hands behind her, too.

“Don’t think about him. He doesn’t deserve it.” Standing up from the seat she was in, Lizzie paced the room. Everything was so…bright. The walls were white with framed pieces of abstract art to break up the monotony. The windows were frosted to let light in while keeping everything inside private. But stuck in the room alone Lizzie just felt like she had stepped into some Sci-fi horror movie. “Get a grip. It’s not that bad.”

She had just made her way to the far side of the room for the thirteenth time when she heard voices. Quickly, Lizzie went back to the seat she’d started in. Her heart was pounding suddenly. Her palms were sweating. This was it- there was no going back after those doors opened. A knock came half a second before the door opened. Dr. Stone came in with one of the office assistants right behind her.

And then she saw her- a well-dressed woman with her blond hair up in a high ponytail. This was the woman who would be raising the baby Lizzie was going to have. She looked so elegant. It made Lizzie a little self-conscious, honestly. But then a man stepped into the room and shut the door. He wore a very nice suit- obviously tailored for him. His expression was neutral, but Lizzie had a feeling it was an intimidation tactic more than lack of interest. She eyed the way he stood and realized that behind his respectable appearance, this man was dangerous.

Suddenly self-consciousness was replaced by trepidation. But Lizzie forced herself to smile. Dr. Stone motioned for the Shelby’s to take a seat and Lizzie watched as Thomas pulled out Grace’s chair for her. The two shared a quick smile and Lizzie looked away. It was barely anything, but it had felt intimate. She turned her attention to Dr. Stone. The woman stood at the head of the table as the assistant passed out three folders.

“Alright, let’s get started. First off, Ms. Stark,” she said turning to face Lizzie, “This is Thomas and Grace Shelby. They are the couple that we felt would be best for you.” Then she turned to the Shelbys. “Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, this is Elizabeth Stark. She will be your surrogate. We have done an extensive background check on both parties, the results of which are in your folders. The contract you signed is included as well, for your records.”

Lizzie shifted a bit in her seat at the mention of background checks. She’d told them about her past, she had agreed to the check, but it still made her nervous knowing these fancy people would see her entire life laid out on paper.  Mr. Shelby lifted his head and caught Lizzie’s eye. She forced herself to be still and focus back in on what Dr. Stone was saying. “We have already collected Lizzie’s ovum and it is ready for fertilization. That process will happen today after we collect Mr. Shelby’s sperm. At the end of this I’ll have the three of you sign a document stating that we went over all of this. And then in about three to five days Ms. Stark will come back in to have the embryos implanted.”

It all sounded so clinical. She’d known that, of course. She’d done the homework and all the reading. She’d even gone to see a lawyer about what rights she did and didn’t have during the pregnancy. But sitting there in that white room with the frosted windows, Lizzie couldn’t help feeling… Honestly she didn’t know what she was feeling. She heard Dr. Stone ask if there were any questions and she shook her head. She knew what happened next.

“Alright then. Mr. Shelby you can follow Erin and she’ll take you to a private room. A nurse will give you instructions.” Lizzie felt an absurd bubble of laughter rising. The idea of a nurse having to tell a man how to handle himself seemed a bit hilarious for some reason. But she bit her tongue and kept her head down until the man was out of the room. “Now that it’s just us ladies,” Dr. Stone continued, “I think it would be good for you ladies to discuss things. I’ve found that the women have the hardest time figuring out their roles in each other’s lives during this process. So I’ll leave you two to chat.”

Then she was gone, and Lizzie was alone with Grace.

~*~

She’s pretty.

It was the first thing that had entered into Grace’s head as she walked into the conference room. The second was that this baby wouldn’t have any features that could be ‘from’ Grace. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but perhaps subconsciously she had assumed the clinic would find a blond woman. Or at least someone with the same eye color that Grace had. But no, instead here was this green eyed, raven-haired, beauty.

A sliver of insecurity had threatened to rise when she saw Elizabeth Stark. Thomas had always preferred dark-haired women. It was something that his family never seemed to let her forget. And every woman who had ever impressed Thomas, especially in business, had dark hair. Most times it didn’t bother her- this obvious inclination her husband had. Most of the time she simply reminded his family that she, and not these others, had been the one Thomas married. But today- the day she felt so lacking as a wife and a woman- all she could see was dark hair.

Of course, Thomas barely glanced at Ms. Stark. Grace knew that he had no interest in the woman. And to be fair, the woman kept her focus on Dr. Stone.  But insecurity was not logical. So when Dr. Stone had left them alone to ‘chat’ Grace found herself trying desperately to keep all of the anxiety she felt from showing.

“So,” the other woman started. “Is there anything you want to ask me?” Grace fixed her eyes on the woman across from her. Her voice was soft, but her speech was more like Thomas’ when he was tired. Opening the folder, Grace skimmed the neatly printed words until she found what she was looking for. ‘Place of Birth: Small Heath, Birmingham.’  She preferred to be called Lizzie, the paper said. “I have a few for you, if that’s alright?”

Again Grace met Lizzie’s eyes. “Of course. What don’t you understand?” She could hear it- the ice that had crept into her voice. It was the tone she used in boardrooms and closed-door meetings with men who had too much power. And Lizzie didn’t like it. But for some reason Grace couldn’t bring herself to regret her tone.

“It says in the contract that I’ll be living in your guest house during the pregnancy.” Lizzie paused for a moment and Grace wondered if it was to collect her thoughts or to keep from running out of the room. “But it also said that if, once we met properly, either party wanted to renegotiate that…”

Grace arched a brow. “Are you suggesting that we let you live somewhere separate from us?” And she hated that she could hear her mother in her own voice. But it was a ridiculous idea. Surely Ms. Stark could see that. An incredulous smile came to Grace’s lips. “How would we know if something happened? This is not your child, Ms. Stark. This is mine and my husband’s child. Why would we allow a stranger to just go off with our baby?”

A flash of defiance showed in Lizzie’s eyes. She had sat up straighter in her chair, leaning forward a bit. “I understand your concern. But what exactly do you think I’m going to be doing at my place? Snorting blow and having orgies?” Grace’s nose crinkled at the mental image. “Listen, Mrs. Shelby, I’ll come by and visit every day. You’ll be at every appointment. But I don’t think it would be good to live so close together. I don’t want to get attached.”

She was trying to manipulate her. Grace could hear it. She could see it. But it didn’t make Lizzie’s point any less valid. And the last thing Grace needed was for Lizzie to decide that she wanted to fight for custody of this baby. Still, the idea of her not being just a walk across the lawn from her child… “No. I’m sorry, but no. Not this early. Maybe toward the third trimester-“

“I’ll be huge and tired and it’ll be too much trouble to move by then.”

But Grace didn’t back down. She couldn’t- not with this. She stared the other woman down, neither willing to give up their positions. But Grace had years of experience getting her way. And Lizzie Stark was not going to change that. “We’ll hire movers. You’ll never lift a finger except to get into the car when everything is finished.”

Lizzie lifted her chin and Grace prepared herself to fight whatever argument came next. Only one never came. Lizzie nodded slowly and leaned back in her seat. “Alright. No later than the start of the third trimester.” Then she stood up and walked out of the room.  Grace sat at the table, heart pounding. She gave up too easily. She had put Grace on the backfoot, as Thomas would say, and she didn’t like it.

Mostly she wondered if she’d just ruined a chance at getting through this in peace.

~*~

Grace was alone when Tommy got back. And she was upset. He could tell by the stiffness of her shoulders and the tilt of her head as she stood at one of the windows. He had seen the doctor on his way back to the little conference room. She told him that Grace and the woman- Ms. Stark- were having a chat. It had sounded friendly enough, but still he’d picked up his pace. And now he was glad he had.

“What happened?”

Grace turned from the window to face him and Tommy could see the fear she’d pushed away was back. “I just-“ Grace took a deep breath. “I think I’ve started something. Between me and the surrogate.” Tommy tilted his head in confusion. Grace’s shoulders slumped and Tommy watched her blink back tears. “She wanted to stay at her own place. Simple enough, right? And I said no. No, Tommy, don’t look like that. I told her ‘no’ the way my mother told you she wouldn’t be able to come to the wedding.”

Tommy winced at that. Mrs. Burgess has made no effort to hide how much she hated Tommy and his family and the fact that he had married her daughter. She hadn’t come to the wedding. And when she announced as much, she had been cold and disdainful and the most well-spoken bitch that Tommy had ever dealt with. And now Grace was telling him she’d treated the surrogate that way?

“Alright. So you were a bit cold to her. Why? We said it would be fine if she didn’t live with us. It’s in the contract that living arrangements were negotiable.” He hadn’t wanted to have any new people on their property- not even in the guest house. And Grace hadn’t seemed so set on it either. “I read the file, there’s nothing in there that says she shouldn’t be on her own.”

Grace rolled her eyes in exasperation. It was something she didn’t do often. “I know, Thomas. But I just hate the idea of her having our baby so far from us. I mean, we don’t know her. What if she smokes? What if she drinks and the baby is born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.” Tommy held in a sigh. He knew Grace- she didn’t think any of those things would happen. She was just nervous and trying to keep as much control as possible. It was something he’d done far too often to not see the signs.

Coming around the table, Tommy set his hands on Grace’s shoulders. “Stop. I didn’t want her at the house to begin with. But you agreed, if she wanted to stay at her own place she could.” His arms went around his wife and Tommy held her tight. “We’ve got her number. We’ll call, invite her to lunch one day. You can apologize-“ Grace scoffed and Tommy shook his head with a smile. “You can apologize and then the three of us can figure out the living situation. No big deal. Alright?”

He pulled back to see Grace’s face. Her lips were set in a pout and her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was still beautiful. “Yes, that’s fine.” She lifted up and gave him a quick kiss. “Thank you for calming me down. Thank you for all of this. I love you, you know?”

“I know. Now come on. We’ve got reservations for dinner.”

~*~

Four Days Later

Lizzie had just walked in the front door when her phone rang. Fishing it out of her pocket, her brows scrunched together as she looked at the unfamiliar number. It had been a long day. She had taken the day to go to the library and read up on what to expect during the first three months of pregnancy. It had been information overload. And then she had gone to the clinic for them to implant the embryos. It had been fairly easy, but now she couldn’t’ stop thinking about the fact that this was all real now. More real than it had been when it was just talk and paperwork.

So she wasn’t really in the mood for a bill collector or one of those scam calls telling her she’d won a free vacation to Aruba. So she tossed her phone on the sofa and made her way to the kitchen. There wasn’t much in it- rent came first these days. But that would change soon. The clinic had given her a check as she left from the Shelbys. It was to cover her food, rent, and utilities for the month- until it was confirmed that a baby would be showing up in approximately nine months.  

Standing at her mostly empty refrigerator, Lizzie pulled out the milk and a carton of strawberries. Turning to grab a glass from the cupboard, the sound of her ringtone came again. Setting the milk and berries on the counter she rushed back to the living room and snatched up her phone and answered. “Hello?”

“Is this Elizabeth Stark?” Lizzie tensed at the deep voice on the other end. It was the last voice she expected to hear. She pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the screen. The same number from a minute ago was on the display. Quickly she put the phone back to her ear. “Yes, this is she.”

There was a pause on the other end and she thought she heard someone else speaking in the background. “Good. This is Tommy Shelby. My wife and I were wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner one day this week.” Lizzie blinked, then blinked again. She hadn’t expected that. And she really couldn’t understand why Mrs. Shelby would want to see her. “Ms. Stark, are you there?” Mr. Shelby asked, a hint of impatience in his tone.

“Yes, sorry. I’m here. Um..” God, Lizzie, just fucking say no. Because she really didn’t want to see them before she’d gone back to the clinic. She wanted as much of her freedom as she could get before their lives became enmeshed. “Sure. I mean, that would be fine. Do you have a day in mind?” She hadn’t needed to read the file Dr. Stone had given her to know that the Shelbys had very busy lives. They might try to make it sound like this was all spur of the moment, but Lizzie knew better.

Another pause, then the click of someone typing. “Wednesday at six?” Lizzie got the feeling that she was not the one that question was being directed to. Not that it really mattered. She didn’t feel like she had much of a say in all of this anyway. Especially after how things had gone at the clinic with Grace. “So does six o’clock Wednesday work for you, Ms. Stark?”

“You can just call me Lizzie. And yes, that works fine. Where should I meet you?” She hoped it wasn’t anywhere too pricey. She didn’t want them to pay for her, but she also hated pretending she wasn’t hungry at places simply because she couldn’t afford more than water. So of course the place Mr. Shelby named was a fancy restaurant downtown. “Sounds good. See you then,” she replied, stomach twisting itself into knots.

“And Lizzie? Call me Tommy.”

Lizzie mumbled her assent and quickly got off the phone. She looked back at the screen, brain still processing the last…three minutes and twenty-six seconds. ‘Call me Tommy’ he’d said. Tommy- such an innocent sounding name. A name that made you think of little boys running after a ball or the shy kid in high-school who was always really sweet. But somehow when Mr. Shelby said it, all those thoughts disappeared. Instead you were left with that old school Mafia vibe. Darkness and danger wrapped up in every syllable.

“Great, Liz, just great. You’ve really stuck yourself with quite the pair, haven’t you?”

~*~

Tommy motioned for the waiter to bring him another whiskey.

So far dinner had been awful. Lizzie had arrived on time, dressed appropriately, if not quite up to the usual price standards for the place. She had been nervous, but tried to hide it. And Tommy had been sure that once they got settled at their table things would begin to smooth over.

He did not expect Grace to insult Lizzie’s dress. He didn’t expect to hear his wife- who had been completely apologetic before getting to the restaurant- turn into her mother the minute Lizzie arrived. And he didn’t expect to have to make small talk to cover the tension. He wasn’t good at small talk. It was always Grace who handled things like that when business required playing nice with people.

He’d given up two whiskeys ago. Instead he sat and watched as Grace ate her meal and Lizzie sipped at the lemonade she’d ordered. He’d told her he was paying- to order what she wanted. She’d refused. It’d been a while since Tommy had been broke. But not long enough that he forgot how fucking annoying it was to take handouts. So he didn’t push the issue.

But it had been almost an hour and the tension was starting to aggravate him. So, Tommy reached over and took Grace’s hand, ignoring his wife’s questioning look, before turning to Lizzie. “So, Lizzie, we asked you here because we wanted to get some things settled.” He felt Grace tense beside him while he watched Lizzie stiffen in her seat. Tommy didn’t miss the way her eyes slid to Grace for a moment. “I believe things may have gotten off to a bad start.”

“Yes,” Grace said, “I think there were misunderstandings on both sides.” There hadn’t been- not from what Grace had told Tommy. But he kept his thoughts to himself. “Ms. Stark, Lizzie, I hope you know that I wasn’t trying to force you into anything. I just feel so protective of my baby already.” Lizzie didn’t respond. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Lizzie reached for her glass and took a sip of her lemonade. Tommy could see her thinking. He knew she was trying to decide if Grace had meant what she said. Not that it really mattered. The papers were signed, she had gone to the clinic to have the embryos implanted. This was happening. But he didn’t want Grace upset. And he didn’t want to have to fight for custody of this baby. So he wanted the two women to play nicely.

Setting her glass back down Lizzie looked at Grace. “I’m glad you feel so protective. It’s nice, knowing that this baby will be taken care of. And I hope that we can get through this whole thing without any problems. So I will stay until the end of the second trimester.” She turned to Tommy. “But I still think it would be better if I stayed at my own place from the beginning. Like I told Mrs. Shelby, I’ll visit every day and you are going to be at the doctor’s appointments anyway. So I don’t see why I need to live on your property.”

“But,” Tommy turned to Grace. “As I explained to you, it’s a matter of safety and knowing what is happening with our child,” Grace said. “You obviously have financial issues. And in your background check it said that you’ve been in trouble a few times. I just need to know that you aren’t going to do anything that could harm my baby.”

Tommy stared at Grace. They had talked about this. They had gone over how things would go at the dinner. And she’d gone off course from the minute Lizzie arrived. He tossed back the rest of his whiskey and tried to think of a way to salvage this. But he could see it in his wife’s eyes- she’d dug in her heels. “Grace.” She turned to face him, eyes bright with defiance. “We agreed, yeah? We wouldn’t force anything.”

He felt Lizzie’s eyes on him. It made him uncomfortable- having someone see him and Grace like this. He didn’t like people seeing the inner workings of his marriage. But it couldn’t be helped. Not this time. “It’s fine. Alright? It’s fine. But I’m still going to need rent money. I’ll need to still have a place after this is all over with.” Tommy reluctantly looked away from Grace. The woman facing him had just as much defiance in her eyes as his wife, but her shoulders were slumped in defeat. It was an odd sight.

“Can you be ready to move by Wednesday after next?” It was two weeks, and Tommy didn’t think Grace would wait much longer. And he just wanted this whole thing to be over. He had business that needed his attention and he couldn’t referee between his wife and the surrogate. Lizzie tensed, but nodded. For the first time Tommy wondered just how bad off she was to be going through with all of this. “Movers will be at your apartment on the day, then.”

He saw the waiter and motioned for the bill.

~*~

“What the fuck was that?”

Grace winced. “I know. Thomas, I know. She just-“

“Just what? Showed up on time? Ordered a drink? Agreed to what you fucking wanted?” She bit her lip. She hated fighting with Tommy. It didn’t happen often. They understood each other too well for that, usually. But this whole thing was increasing Grace’s anxiety. “You were meant to apologize. The whole point was to smooth things over so we don’t have problems later.”

Grace felt a spike of fear at those words. It would be so easy for Ms. Stark to sue for custody. It would be so easy for her to terminate the contract- abort the baby. And Grace knew she wasn’t helping matters. If anything she was making things worse. But she couldn’t seem to help it. “I’m just scared, Thomas.”

Her husband looked over at her from the driver’s seat. But instead of the usual softness and love, Grace found Tommy’s face tight with annoyance and his eyes cooler than they’d been with her in a long time. “You can’t let that matter. You can’t let the fear get into your head and muck it up. We had a plan. You broke from the plan, Grace. And that- that shit that happened back there? That’ll be what fucks this whole thing up in the end.”

The rest of the drive was silent. It was excruciating, mainly because Grace knew Tommy was right. But that insecure part of her couldn’t let herself care. She couldn’t admit it, not to him. Not when he was defending that woman. It shouldn’t feel like this. None of this should feel the way it did. Grace should be happy. Tommy should be happy. They should be planning for a baby to arrive, not fighting over the woman who was carrying said baby.

But…She saw the way Lizzie had watched Thomas. Grace had seen something in her eyes that made her wonder. Something that made her want to hold him tighter, closer. And she’d seen the way Thomas had looked at Lizzie- there had been an understanding there. When Lizzie had only ordered lemonade, when she had politely declined to let Tommy pay for her meal- he’d looked at her like he recognized something in her. It was something Grace didn’t recognize and she hated it- that small thing that Thomas and this woman shared.

The car pulling to a stop brought Grace out of her troubling thoughts. They were home. The sun was just setting behind the house and it cast a golden glow over everything. It was beautiful- perfect. Thomas had picked it for her as a surprise and she had fallen in love with it immediately. And every time she returned, no matter how upset or scared or hurt she might be, seeing it always made Grace smile. But not this time.  This time her eyes went to the guest house to the left of the property- almost out of sight.

“She’s going to live there, Thomas. She’d going to be right there.” She felt her husband’s eyes on her. It wasn’t comforting like she had grown accustomed to. This time his gaze was too heavy. “It feels too close. But I can’t stand the idea of her being a step farther away. God, I wish…” But it didn’t matter what she wished. Her wishes hadn’t come true even after all the money and the medicine and the tears.

Thomas got out and walked around to the passenger’s side. He opened her door like always, and gave her his hand to help her out of the car. But the warmth of his hand was gone as soon as she was securely on her feet. He closed the door and went into the house- without her. The only other time he’d done that was the night Ada had gone missing. He’d run in to make calls- to find his baby sister.

This time he just didn’t want to be near his wife.

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary ‘20 - Week Two: Secret

Okay so I won’t be doing all four Stanuary prompts this year.  I couldn’t think of something for the last prompt.  But I had a pretty good idea for this prompt and I wanted to use it, so, ten days after January ended, here it is.  My ficlet for the “Secret” prompt.  This prompt takes place in my Angiewolf AU, which, like many of my AUs, is rather developed and has some complexity to it.  But all you need to know to read this ficlet is that it’s an AU where Stan is a werewolf.

...And also Stan has a wife and kids and they are also werewolves.  Enjoy.

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              “Soos!”  Soos looked up from the taxidermy gorilla he was currently brushing.  “Get your butt in here!”  Soos promptly dropped the hairbrush and sprinted for the gift shop.  When he arrived, panting, Stan was by the cash register, glaring at a pile of coins Soos had forgotten to put away from the last sale.

              “What is it, Mr. Pines?”

              “Why didn’t you put these in the register?” Stan demanded, gesturing angrily. The tips of his fingers were bright red and blistered, like they’d been burned.

              “Sorry, Mr. Pines, I forgot.”

              “Well, get it done with.  I can’t handle coins from before 1964,” Stan grumbled.  Soos made his way over to the register.  As he picked up the coins, he could see that the year they were made was indeed prior to 1964.

              “Why not?” Soos asked curiously.

              “None of your beeswax, that’s why,” Stan muttered darkly.  He stormed off.  Soos rested his elbows on the counter, frowning thoughtfully.

              Is Mr. Pines allergic to something?  Something in coins before 1964?  I don’t want to expose him to something and hurt him if he is.  Soos’ eyes wandered around the room, eventually landing on a book on coin collecting, resting on a shelf nearby.  Well, that’s pretty lucky!  He walked over to the shelf, picked up the book, and blew the dust off.  1964. What’s special about that year? It took some doing, but he managed to find a paragraph on coin composition.

              “Silver-colored American coins were 90% silver until 1964,” he read out loud. His eyes widened.

              Is Mr. Pines allergic to silver?  Now that I think about it, have I ever seen him touch silver before?  He has watches and necklaces, but those are all gold.  Stan stalked into the gift shop again.

              “Did you put away those coins?” Stan asked, his arms crossed and foot tapping. Soos put the book back on the shelf.

              “Yes, sir!”

              “Good.”

              “Mr. Pines, are you allergic to silver?” Soos asked.  Stan froze.  He eyed Soos, but didn’t say anything.  “Coins before 1964 were made of-”

              “Yeah, silver, I know.”  Stan looked away.  Soos could hear him grinding his teeth from where he was standing.  “Fine.  Yeah. I’m allergic to silver.  Don’t tell anyone, though.  I can’t let anyone know I’ve got a weakness.”

              “You can count on me to keep a secret, sir!” Soos said solemnly, doing a salute.  Stan grunted. “But, I mean, silver’s a pretty weird allergy.  It’s almost- it’s almost like you’re a werewolf.”  Soos laughed at his own joke.  Stan was silent.  “…Mr. Pines?”

              “Keep manning the register, kid.  I’ve gotta go do…something.”  Stan went outside, slamming the door closed behind him.  Soos rubbed his chin.

              Something’s fishy here.  But what?

----- 

              Soos silently approached the Mystery Shack, utilizing all his powers of stealth, sticking to the treeline.  After that day, when he’d found out Stan was apparently allergic to silver, he’d begun to notice other odd things.  Some of Stan’s kids were in town for the summer, since they were still in college, and they helped out at the Mystery Shack.  Soos had known them for years; some of them were even helping him figure out college applications.  But he’d never realized before how much they behaved like wild animals.

              Not that Stan didn’t also behave like a wild animal at times.  Soos couldn’t count how many times Stan would suddenly freeze and sniff the air, or spin around to stare at a door right before it opened.  But while he was paying attention, Soos realized Stan and his family did more than just that.

              The growling…  Soos had heard of people growling in frustration, but he almost went outside to look for a stray dog before he realized the low growl he was hearing came from one of Stan’s younger children, Emily.  At one point, he could’ve sworn she actually barked.  Add onto that how much meat Stan’s family ate (Stan’s wife kept inviting Soos over for meals) and the way they all were eerily strong, even those who were slender like Stan’s wife, and Soos couldn’t dismiss the thought. The thought that had started as a throwaway joke to try to impress Stan.

              Well, it’s a full moon now, so if he’s really a werewolf, this is the time to check.  Soos knew that Stan technically lived in a different building with his wife and kids, but he also knew that Stan had been staying later and later at the Mystery Shack. He fully expected that Stan would lose track of time and be transformed when the moon rose.  A howl echoed in the distance.  That howl was answered by another one, much closer.  A giant wolf emerged from behind the Mystery Shack. The hairs rose on the back of Soos’ neck.  His heart jumped to his throat.

              Dude…  A scar on the wolf’s right shoulder caught the moonlight, shining amidst its gray fur. The exact same gray as Mr. Pines’ hair. The wolf sat back on its hindquarters and howled again.  Once more, a howl sounded in response.  The wolf got up, shook itself all over, and bounded into the forest.  Soos stared silently.  For a moment, he grappled with whether or not he would follow the wolf. I didn’t bring any weapons or anything, what if the wolf isn’t Mr. Pines?  There was a faint rustle behind him.  Soos spun around.  There was nothing there.  He let out a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a scream as something with teeth and claws jumped out of the bushes, tackling him to the ground.

              “If you’re Mr. Pines, I swear, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Soos said, covering his eyes.  There was a loud bark and a series of heavy thuds.  The claws pinning Soos to the ground vanished.  Soos opened one eye.  The gray wolf from earlier was standing over him protectively, growling loudly at the forest.  After what felt like an hour, the growl faded from the wolf’s throat, and it looked down at Soos.  Human emotion was evident in the wolf’s glowing, brown eyes.  Soos swallowed.  “Hi, Mr. Pines.”  The wolf snarled softly, then, with its teeth, picked Soos up by the shirt collar. “W-where are you taking me?”  The wolf marched over to the Mystery Shack, set Soos down on the ground, and then went behind the back of the building.  Soos was about to follow when Stan Pines, partially dressed, appeared from the same place the wolf had gone.

              “Kid, what the hel- heck was that?” Stan demanded, wearing only his pants. Soos opened and closed his mouth silently.  “C’mon, Soos, what were you thinking?”

              “You really are a werewolf,” Soos whispered.  Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I was- I had to check and-”

              “You coulda gotten killed,” Stan said fiercely.  Soos was surprised by the concern in Stan’s voice.  Sure, he liked to think of Stan as being a sort of surrogate father, but he didn’t really think that Stan felt protective of him, like he did his actual children.  “Over what, a joke?  You’re smarter than that.”

              “It started as a joke, but then I thought it might be true.”

              “Uh-huh.  How’d you figure that out?” Stan asked, his hands on his hips.

              “I, uh, I watched you and your kids.  You guys act like wolves, y’know.”  Stan’s mouth flattened into a straight line.  “And you guys eat meat like, all the time.”

              “Yeah, we-”  Stan looked off, clearly frazzled, again startling Soos.  He wasn’t used to seeing Stan so flustered.  “Hmph.  Guess we don’t hide it as well as I thought.”  Stan looked back at Soos with a firm gaze, his eyes shining the same way they had when he was a wolf mere minutes ago.  “This was still a stupid thing to do.  Werewolves are dangerous, but at least none of the ones around here will hurt you. There’s all sortsa other dangerous stuff in the forest during a full moon.  You’re darn lucky I was still nearby.”  

              “Yeah, I am.”

              “You’re not even eighteen yet!” Stan continued.  “Don’t go trying to kill yourself by taking a full moon forest hike in Gravity Falls!  I mean-” Stan shook his head.  “I swear, it’s like having another kid,” he muttered to himself.  Soos perked up.

              “What was that, Mr. Pines?”

              “Nothin’.”  Stan glared at him.  “Look, promise me you won’t do something that dumb again, okay?  Your grandma isn’t the only one who’d kill me if anything happened to you.  My kids made you an honorary pack member ages ago, so I’d have to deal with them, too.”

              “And your wife,” Soos said helpfully.  Stan grimaced.

              “Yeah.  Her too.” Stan sighed heavily.  He seemed to have run out of steam, so Soos took the opportunity to ask a question that had been bothering him.

              “How come you turned human again?  It’s a full moon?”

              “I’ve been a werewolf long enough that I can force a shift if I need to,” Stan mumbled.  “And being high up in a pack has its perks, too.”  Soos’ jaw dropped.

              “Are you the alpha?” he whispered.  Stan let out a bark of laughter.

              “As if.  I’m married to the alpha, though.”  He fixed Soos with those steely eyes again.  “But I’m not answering any more questions.  I’ve got other things to do tonight.”  Soos heard a howl in the distance.

              “Is that your wife?” Soos asked.  Stan shook his head.

              “No, it’s one of the kids.  Now, get yourself back home so I can take care of my wolf business, okay?”

              “Uh…”  Soos looked away.  Stan groaned.

              “You walked here, didn’t you?”

              “I had to be sneaky!”

              “You-”  Stan let out another heavy sigh.  “Fine. Gimme a sec.  I’ll transform back, then I’ll take you back to your grandma’s house so nothing bites your face off.”  Soos beamed in excitement.

              “I get to ride your back?”

              “No fu- freaking way, kid.  I’m carrying you like the pup you are.”  Stan went back behind the house, muttering darkly.  A second question came to Soos.

              “Mr. Pines?” he called.  There was a pause.

              “What?” Stan asked, exasperated.

              “Why didn’t you make me promise not to tell anyone you’re a werewolf?”

              “Two reasons, kid.  Number one, even in this town, no one would believe you.  Number two…”  Stan trailed off.  “…You’re not the kinda person who would do something to screw up someone’s life.”  There was another pause.  “Unlike some people I know,” Stan said, so quietly Soos could barely make it out.  A warm feeling began to spread throughout Soos’ chest.  He grinned, caught up in the kind things Stan had said to him.  A large gray wolf emerged from behind the Mystery Shack and stood in front of Soos.  Soos beamed up at Stan.  Stan rolled his eyes, then, like before, delicately picked Soos up by his shirt and set off.

              This is the best night ever!

[traincat]

I think I Kno the answer but I like the way you explain things so; would you ever write superfamily?

This is the sort of stone cold ‘no’ where it’s literally one of the only things I say I will not write on signup sheets. You’d have to pay me to write it. Substantially. If there’s one Marvel fandom-specific trope I hate above all others, it’s this one. I ‘flames on the side of my face’ gif loathe it. And because you played to my ego here, anonymous, I’ll explain why it bothers me so much. (Joking aside, I do genuinely appreciate that people want to hear my thoughts on things! Thank you! I’m sorry for how seethingly bitter I’m about to be, but anon, I suspect you knew what you’d be getting when you asked this!)

Frothing hatred, a discussion about the integrity of the character of Peter Parker, and The Importance of May Parker – all beneath your friendly neighborhood cut.

Superfamily in this instance refers to a specific fic trope in Marvel fandom where a pair of superheroes, traditionally Captain America and Iron Man (the superhusbands, hence the superfamily) although I’ve seen other pairings especially as of late, are written as the fathers of Peter “Spider-Man” Parker – usually adopted, sometimes biological, but ultimately legally. 

In general I don’t really enjoy this kind of fic where two characters who aren’t related (by blood or otherwise) are re-envisioned as relatives. It’s not that I think it’s inherently a bad concept, but what I would hypothetically want out of it – an exploration of how these characters change as a result of being related in this version – is almost never what it actually is, which is that Characters A and B are the author’s OTP, and the author wants to give them a child, and Character C, who is off over there minding their own business probably with their own supporting cast, is right there. 

(While trying to come up with comparative combinations on a tangent I ultimately dropped, I did think “Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff are the parents of Daisy Johnson, costarring Nick Fury as the mysterious uncle” and apparently there are versions of this I would read. Make superspyfamily the next big thing.)

There’s a lot of other things I don’t like about the trope: the diminishing and infantilization of Peter Parker, a ~30yo man in the comics with his own complicated web of connections and relationships – including, if we wanted to go here, a surrogate father figure in Joe “Robbie” Robertson. The twisting of Peter’s personality in order to make his a Good Earnest Kid, his Grand Canyon-wide independent streak and his anti-authoritarian nature stripped away in favor of making him beholden to two characters who are, you know, not his parents. Two characters who aren’t even, striking a stint in the ice where Steve Rogers is concerned, that much older than him in 616. The fact that, over the years, Iron Man and Spider-Man have clashed several times, often aggressively on Peter’s side of things. 

(This post isn’t meant to be a criticism of Tony Stark – even if I was interested in taking that angle when discussing this trope, which I’m not, I frankly haven’t read enough Iron Man comics to offer a valid criticism – but rather a statement that Peter Parker is an aggressive character by nature, and that sometimes two characters with the best of intentions can have damaging interactions with each other. That’s the beauty of having a canon with 80 million different characters – every possible dynamic exists. And that’s why there’s several canon instances of Peter attacking Tony in my Spider-Man refs folder. Listen, I like when he punches people, okay.) The invention of a totally fake dynamic that has become so widespread and latched on on a fanon level to the point where it was shoehorned into the latest Spider-Man movie adaptation to the detriment of Spider-Man’s actual supporting cast. The fact that when I read Spider-Man fic, I want to be reading about Spider-Man, not someone’s Peter Parker shaped OC. And maybe most importantly: the erasure of May Parker. Without May Parker, there is no Spider-Man, not as we know him. 

I’ve spoken before about the importance and gravity of Ben Parker’s death and how without knowing the exact circumstances, I find it difficult to know what form Peter’s actions will take. (The differences in his crime fighting methodology 616 vs Marvel Noir, for instance.) But while Ben Parker’s death made Spider-Man, the vigilante, I think it’s May Parker who makes him a hero, every day. 

And, my line on her to Peter is that he got his powers from the spider but he got his strength from May. Because that backbone is what made him who and what he is today. The choices that he makes now come of her having raised him a certain way. – J Michael Straczynski (x)

Look, I think there’s a simplicity to Superfamily that contributes to its overwhelming, infuriating, kudzu-like popularity: Spider-Man is one of the biggest superhero properties on the planet. He’s often, however incorrectly I would personally suggest this is, depicted as a kid. He is, as we all know, an orphan – he has no parents, and he lives with his aunt and uncle, and then – robber, bang, power, responsibility – only with his aunt. And I think sometimes when people hear “orphan” and “aunt” they kind of feel a distance – a disconnect. Or maybe it’s an age thing – the idea that May’s somehow too old to be his parent, so she’s discounted. Maybe it’s just because she’s not a superhero, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s entirely a coincidence that early Marvel is populated with non-traditional family models – the Fantastic Four, for example, are not a team but a family – when these stories were created by Jewish people living in a heavily Jewish area in the shadow of WWII. In the face of decimation, you come together however you can. Orphaned Peter Parker and his aunt, his father’s brother’s wife, alone together. But May Parker’s a lot more than just that.

In Amazing Spider-Man #33, Peter finds himself hopelessly trapped under rubble while Aunt May’s life hangs in the balance – if he cannot free himself, it’s not only his life but hers that’s forfeit, and through his love from her he finds the strength to literally move mountains. (Speaking of removing May from the picture in favor of Iron Man, I’ll never forgive Spider-Man: Homecoming for recreating this scene so that Peter derives his strength from him and not from, you know, the woman who raised him and who he loves more than his own life, in favor of the inherently more marketable Iron Man brand.)

A lot of times in Superfamily fic, they just kill May off. Okay, fine, whatever. I might hate it (I hate it a lot) but like, alright! Fine! If you gotta go here! May’s often been in delicate health, especially in older comics, and if an author needs to take her out of the picture, her literally being dead is basically the only in character reason she wouldn’t be there for Peter if he needs her. I might personally have a grudge against about it, but hey, as we’ve established, I have a grudge against the whole trope. Lately though, and I suspect because of the advent of Homecoming’s Hot Somewhat Younger May – I’d like to suggest that 616 May is not as old as one might think looking at her first appearances and that, as the sliding timescale moves along, we have to address the fact that people both live longer and look younger today than was expected in the 1960s –,  I’ve been seeing a different trend. (Yes, I’ve been known to hateread, I’ll admit it. How else would I know how much I hate it! Also it keeps ending up in the JohnnyPeter tag and I make poor choices re: deriving enjoyment from my anger over fanfic of all things.) Lately, more and more, I’ve been seeing fics where Tony adopts Peter from May – as in, she signs the forms giving up her child, because obviously he loves him so much more. Fics where May is just the cover story so Peter Stark can escape media attention – so great, now she’s an employee. And at least one tweet about how great it would be to see a fic where Peter comes out to May and she throws him out in a homophobic fit but wait! The Avengers can rescue him! So now she’s demonized for the Drama. Gag me. (Not that I think it should matter at all for the sake of this argument, but we have May’s actual word in Amazing Spider-Man v2 #38 on what would happen if Peter came out as gay to her, and that it’s she’d love and support him no matter what.) And listen, like, part of me is like let it go! The majority of this content is written by younger fans just figuring out what they want to write, dipping their toes into the swampy waters that is Marvel canon! But the problem is, this perpetuates. It gets popular, and people form their opinions based on headcanons and not on canon and it becomes a vicious cycle, and suddenly Peter’s the Kid Avenger like, ACTUALLY, and May’s role in the story has been demoted to Roommate With a Car at best. Just there until better, cooler parental figures show up at the doorstep with adoption papers. 

Because, listen, May Parker is Peter’s mother. 

One thing I find fascinating about Peter Parker in 616 is how he relies on and draws strength from other people’s goodness, and none more so than May. It’s her well of inner strength and kindness that enable him to be kind of superhero that he is. 

Without May Parker, Peter Parker would be a totally different character – and I don’t want a different character. I like this one. (For a canon story about how Peter would be different without May, check out Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #8.)

Like I said above, the great thing about having 80 million characters is that those characters get to be different things, and as superheroes they get to protect different things. Iron Man is a futurist. The Fantastic Four are about discovery. The X-Men protect a world that hates and fears them. Spider-Man isn’t here to save the world. Spider-Man is here to protect ordinary people – people like May Parker. 

In conclusion: fuck Superfamily as a widespread trend.

Anyway I had to see an actual article about the MCU refer to two characters as Spider-Man’s “Avenger dads” and another suggest that Dr. Strange and Spider-Man are the father-son combo we never knew we always needed (it’s not, and we don’t), so I guess I’m going to go live in a cave and throw rocks at innocent hikers who stumble upon my Spider-Man Opinions cave now.

[revwinchester]

Talk To Him

Summary: Castiel and Dean are a married couple who own Singer’s Restoration, one of the best auto shops in Sioux Falls.  When Cas arrives to tow a vehicle after a bad accident, he recognizes the car as belonging to his husband.

Pairing: Destiel

Word Count: 1785

Rating: General Warnings: angst, auto accident, major injury, ambiguous ending/potential major character death, dead body (unnamed minor character), a curse word or two

Created for @spnangstbingo; square filled: Mechanic AU Created for @spnaubingo; square filled: mechanic!Cas

A/N: I’m sorry for the ambiguous ending… I just couldn’t bring myself to write a completely happy ending for this one but I also didn’t want to write a definitively sad ending, either.  So, I decided that ending it here was my best course of action.  Also, you should thank my beta.  She convinced me to write an extra 600 words because the original end point was SUPER ambiguous.  At least there’s some hope, now!

Talk To Him-

Castiel was about to close up shop when the phone rang.  He considered letting it go to voicemail but one glance at the clock told him there were still 10 minutes left in the work day so he answered the call.  “Singer’s Collision and Restoration, this is Castiel,” he greeted the caller.

The shop hadn’t been owned by Bobby Singer for about 5 years but Cas and his husband had opted to keep Bobby’s name attached after they had taken over the business, both as a nod to the company’s history and an homage to Bobby, who had basically been Dean’s surrogate father growing up.  They had, however, decided to drop the word “Salvage” from the shop’s title in favor of “Restoration,” giving their place a more modern and and upscale sound.  

Cas heard sirens and commotion through the phone’s receiver and he immediately knew who was calling and what they needed before they even spoke.  

“This is officer Jones with Sioux Falls P.D.,” the voice on the other end of the call replied.  “There’s been an accident out on route 229 and we need a car towed.”

The officer told Cas where on the highway they were located as the mechanic looked out into Singer’s’ workspace.  The usual drivers had already gone home for the day and none of the guys left cleaning up were on the company’s auto insurance.  Dean was the on call driver for the night but he had left to finish setting up the date he had planned for Cas that evening.  Castiel hung up the phone and set the system to forward tow requests to Dean’s cell before he climbed up into the tow truck himself.  He texted Dean that he would be late and then started up the engine and pulled onto the road.

The accident wasn’t too far from the shop, at least, and with the flashing lights on the truck that allowed him to bypass the highway traffic without consequence, he made it to the site of the crash in about 20 minutes.  There was an ambulance on the scene along with multiple police cars and a fire truck.  Cas parked his truck and made his way toward the nearest officer to announce his arrival.  He rounded the end of the ambulance and the scene took his breath away.

The ground was littered with glass and twisted metal.  Castiel’s breath caught in his throat as a figure covered in a white sheet caught his eye.  His gaze traveled up from the sheet to the mangled body of a familiar car - a 1967 Chevy Impala.

Cas froze, a strangled “No…” falling from his lips.  He walked blindly towards the body under the sheet, nearly arriving before an officer intercepted him.

“Sir!  Sir!  You can’t be here!”  The officer was practically shouting to get Castiel’s attention and it was only then that Cas realized there was a hand firmly gripping his arm.

“I… I…” Cas floundered as the officer led him away from the scene.  His mind was swimming with worst case scenarios, pictureing the love of his life dead in a million different ways…

“Oh shit,” a familiar voice cut through Castiel’s thoughts.  “Of course we called Singer’s…”

Jody Mills trotted into Castiel’s field of vision.  “I’ll take it from here, sargeant.  You go give Joe a hand with assessing the truck” she said, sending the officer off and turning to Cas.  

Castiel felt warmth on his cheeks and realized he had started crying.  The warm feeling was compounded when Jody grabbed his face, one of her hands on each of his cheeks, and turned him to look at her.  Her lips were moving but Cas felt like he was underwater, everything around him seemed fuzzy and distant and none of his senses were responding to the world around him.

Jody lightly tapped one of Castiel’s cheeks a few times, trying to draw the man’s attention.  “Cas?  Cas I need you with me right now.  I need you to focus.”  

Castiel’s wide eyes met Jody’s gaze.  He couldn’t begin to fathom how she was keeping it together right now but he leaned into her, letting her strength support him as her words finally made it through the haze.

“That’s not Dean, Cas,” she was saying.  “It’s not him under that sheet.”

Castiel felt everything wash over him at once: relief and joy, panic and fear.  If that wasn’t Dean, then where was he?  He couldn’t voice everything running through his head in that moment but he was able to rasp out one word.  “Where?”

“Dean’s... well, he’s not dead, Cas, but it’s not good either,” Jody admitted.  “That poor soul was likely driving drunk and broadsided Dean.”  She indicated the person lying motionless on the ground before continuing.  “Your husband was loaded into an ambulance and rushed to Sioux Falls General.  He… Cas, he lost a lot of blood and he wasn’t conscious when we arrived.  Get back in your truck and get over there, we’ll call someone else to tow…”

“No,” Cas interrupted.  “No, I’ll take it.  Dean is… he’s going to wake up and the first thing he’s gonna do is ask about his Baby.”

“Castiel…” Jody looked at him with sad eyes and, for a minute, Cas thought she was going to fight him.  “I’ll help you get her on the tow truck.”  

Once the Impala was loaded onto the back of the Singer’s truck, Jody pulled Cas into a fierce hug.  “I’ll call Sam just as soon as you pull out of here.  You just worry about getting yourself to that hospital safely and in one piece.  We don’t need you getting reckless and putting yourself in the bed next to Dean.”  She gave Cas one last squeeze and released him.

Cas climbed up into the truck’s cab.  “Thank you Jody,” he whispered before he shut the door.  The flashing lights were still on and he didn’t bother to turn them off as he barreled down the highway toward Sioux Falls General Hospital.  He drove as safely as he could, Jody’s warning sounding in his head, but the desire - the need - to get to Dean won out and Cas made the trip to the hospital in about half the time it should have taken.  He had to park in the back of the lot, cursing the size of the truck as he jumped out and ran for the doors.  

Castiel’s frantic entrance garnered a lot of attention and he was soon corralled by a nurse who assumed he needed emergency care.  Castiel quickly brushed off her concerns.  “My husband was brought in here maybe a half an hour ago?  Dean Winchester.  He was in a car accident.”  With a few quick keystrokes, the nurse pointed Cas in the direction of the ER and he began quickly walking through the hospital.

He made it to the emergency room without an issue but when he tried the doors that opened onto the floor, they were locked.  He looked to the side of the door for a button to push to open the door but there was nothing.  Someone cleared their throat and Castiel’s head shot up.  

“Can I help you sir?” a young woman in scrubs asked from the nurses’ station.  

“Yes,” Cas panted, “My name is Castiel Winchester.  My husband, Dean Winchester, was in a car accident.”  Cas tried to remain calm while the nurse checked her files but his patience was beginning to wear thin.  “Please,” he begged, “I need to see him.”

The nurse tapped away at her computer for a couple more minutes - or it could have been seconds or even hours for all Cas knew; time meant nothing to him in this moment - and as soon as she gave him a number Castiel was jogging down the hall towards Dean’s room.  He skidded to a stop outside of the door, hesitating for just a moment, suddenly unsure of himself.  Cas had no idea what he would find when he walked through that door and the adrenaline finally shifted into pure fear as he reached for the door knob.  “The room is quiet,” Cas muttered to himself, “that has to be a good sign…”  He inhaled deeply and opened the door.

Quiet, steady beeping and a gentle whooshing sound greeted him and, if it weren’t for the tubes and machines connected to his husband, Cas would have thought Dean was just sleeping peacefully.  As he got closer, though, he noticed the now cleaned scratches and stitched up cuts on his face and arms, likely from the Impala’s windshield shattering.  Cas stood at the foot of the bed staring, frozen in his place until a hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to jump.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” a man - Nurse Jackson, according to his name tag - told Castiel.  “It’s just, only family is allowed in here right now.  Are you related to Mr. Winchester?”  The nurse had a kind smile on his face as he spoke and Cas felt at ease with him.

“I, yes, he’s my husband,” Cas responded, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.  “I can show you my ID if you’d like.”

The nurse walked around to Dean’s bedside and began checking the machines and jotting down notes in his chart.  “No, that’s fine.  It’s just my job to double check.”  He smiled back at Cas again before returning to his work.  A few moments later, Nurse Jackson returned Dean’s chart to its holder.  “I’ll let the doctor on call know that family has arrived.  Mr. Winchester is scheduled to be moved to the ICU and she’ll want to talk to you before he gets taken up.”

Cas nodded his thanks and took the seat beside Dean’s bed.  He held Dean’s hand in his own, and took a shaky breath.

The nurse paused in the doorway on his way out, turning to Cas.  “I can’t say much, sir, and he’s definitely not out of the woods, yet, but even in the short time he’s been here it’s clear that your husband is a fighter.  It’s mostly anecdotal evidence but we think that people who are in comas can hear us.  You might try talking to him, telling him stories and that sort of thing.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand and muttered a quiet “thank you” to the nurse.  Once they were alone in the room, Castiel turned all of his attention onto his husband.  “Hello, Dean…”

If you would like to be added to (or removed from) one of my tag lists, send me an ask and let me know!  I’ve got forevers, character specific (for reader inserts) and shipping (Destiel and Sabriel)

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[nothing-but-kpop-dreams]

GOT7 Reaction: You being infertile (request)

A/N:Sorry this took so long. Some things happened and we all shifted the reactions around in order to have time to deal with what we needed to focus on. Sorry for any errors.

Mark:

He came home as deflated as ever. All he wanted to do was sleep and forget everything that was on his mind. He sluggishly moved towards the bedroom, his eyes purposely avoided the room that was meant to be a nursery. “Gotta remember to change that back into the home office.” he thought

He walked into the bedroom making sure to be as quiet as possible to not disturb the sleeping y/n. Once done with his quick, half-assed evening routine, he climbed under the sheets.

“Mark?” Y/n’s voice peeped.

“Hi babe.”he whispered as he settled into his side of the bed. “I’m just coming home, go back to sleep.” he said with a quick kiss to her cheek, missing her lips in the dark.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked randomly.

“Mad? I’m not mad.”

“You haven’t said a word to me since the appointment.”

“Yes I have.”

“Cursing under your breathe while driving home and saying hi and bye to me isn’t “talking to me”, Mark.”

“Well you haven’t been talking either.”

“Because I’m sad! And I’m still sad.” she said in a whimper

“I’m sad too okay. So maybe, I don’t feel like talking, but that doesn’t mean I’m mad at you.”

“How am I supposed to know that when you completely shut me out.”

“Because what can I say to make anything better?” Y/n the few things that you have been saying are all things I was thinking also! I couldn’t open my mouth and agree and make you feel worse.Yes, I am sad that we can’t have a baby. Yes, I feel stupid that we tried so fucking hard for so long for nothing. Yes, this whole thing is unfair. Yes, I am heart broken that we can’t start a family of our own, but no, I’m not mad at you. I could never me mad at you over this. Y/n, just because you are the one that is infertile, doesn’t mean that this is your fault and I don’t ever want you to feel like you are at fault.” 

Jb:

“Infertile” The word just rang in his ears. The doctor walked out of the office, giving him and y/n a moment to take it in. But he didn’t feel the need “to take it in”, it all had to be wrong, it just had to.There was no way y/n could be infertile, there just wasn’t. She was in amazing health, he was in amazing health, how could they not be able to have a baby?

Y/n sat quietly next to him in her chair as his mind continued to race. The more he thought about the whole thing the more upset he became. The whole situation was just so unfair.

“She couldn’t have been serious...” His voice broke through the deafening silence that filled the small room. “So she’s saying we can’t have kids? That we can’t have kids?” He turned to y/n, who only sat still and expressionless. “There are stupid and evil people out in the wold just popping kids out, but we can’t have kids even after how hard we’ve tried?!?”

“...I’m sorry.” Y/n said in a soft mumble.

“We’re good people, we’d be good parents. Fuck, we treat our cats better than some people treat their kids. Wh- why do we have to go through this? Making a baby should be the easiest part of all this!”

“I’m sorry.” Y/n repeated in a whimper.

It wasn’t until then that JB realized that Y/n had been crying. That was when his anger left him and he immediately moved to her. “Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“B-because I -I can’t gi-give us a baby. It’s-s my fault!” she cried as she dug her face into her hands.

He gently pulled her into a hug.”It’s not your fault. Jagi, none of this is your fault.”

“Yes it is! I’m the reason we can’t have a baby! What kind of woman am i if i can’t even have a baby?”

“Jagi, look at me.” he said softly

“No!”

“Jagi...” Now was the moment to put his own feelings aside and try to be the positive voice to y/n. “Y/n, don’t feel like this is your fault. I’m sorry if i made you feel like that, but i wasn’t trying to make you feel bad... Jagi, just please look at me.”

Finally she did so. Her face was streaked with tears. The way she was looking up at him just broke his heart.

“So, yes, this sucks... this really, really- really sucks. And it’s okay to be sad. I’m sad too and mad, not mad at you, just mad at the situation, but... but just because it’s a sad situation, doesn’t means its a bad situation... Like- Like i said before, there are lots of people there having kids, but we got to remember that not everyone gets to keep their kids-”

“I know! That’s why it’s not fucking fair that I can’t have a baby!” she said with a wavering voice. “And- and-” she couldn’t even get herself to talk anymore because she started crying again.

“Y-yes, but what i’m trying to say is that we can be the ones to take a child in. We can still adopt! We have alot of love to give. IF we can;t have a child of our own, we can always care for and love a child, or children, whose parents couldn’t or wouldn’t care for them. Just because we can’t ever have our own kids, doesn’t mean we can’t ever have kids.”

Jinyoung:

He finally returned home after a long day of recording. It was pretty late in the night so he was rather surprised to find y/n awake just sitting at the kitchen table. More surprising was that he caught her drinking some beer.

“Jagi, what are you still doing up?” He asked as he walked toward her (noticing she was on her second bottle now), giving her a quick kiss then taking the empty seat next to her. “And hwy are you drinking? I thought in the pregnancy article you read a clean diet and full 8  hours of sleep helps with like fertility and stuff. You were making a big deal about it last week.” he tried to keep casual, despite the fact that he was a bit concerned about this. This whole late night drinking thing just wasn’t her style.

“There’s no point to all that stuff anymore... There never was a point.” she grumbled as she took another swig of her beer. 

On top of her grumpy tone, he was noticing that her cheeks were shiny and her eyes were puffy and slightly red. “What are you talking about?” he asked nervously. This behavior wasn’t like y/n at all and his mind raced to figure out what could be making her behave this way.

“...I went to that doctor’s appointment today, you know, that one to see what exactly was the reason I haven’t gotten pregnant yet.” she mumbled in a slight slur. “Turns out all this diet crap and eliminating  stress bullshit was just a waste of time, cuz i’m- I’m infertile.” she whimpered. Her eyes were beginning to get watery as her lip quivered.

“Infertile?”

A few tears slid down her cheeks. “Yup... That’s what the doctor said”

He could feel what little energy he had in his body drain out. He slouched back in his chair as if someone had just knocked the wind out of him. After the day he had, just to come home and find out this, he just didn’t want to believe it. “So we can’t have kids of our own?”

“That’s what infertile means!” she said harshly. “...Well, I can’t, you still can. Leave me and go find some whose body can actually function and you can have all the kids you want.”

“Y/n, don’t even go there!” he said a bit too sternly.

Y/n’s face fell expressionless just as she took another gulp of her beer.

He grabbed her hand, making her put the drink down. ���y/n, just because we can’t have kids doesn’t mean its the end of the world.”

“To me it does!”

“No, it doesn’t, we still have options right? Of course we do!” he answered himself before she could bring herself down anymore. “We, uh, we can give invitro a try! At least once. If that doesn’t work, then we can try a surrogate, if you don’t want to do that, then we can adopt!” He hoped that the more options he threw at her, the less disappointment they would felt over the whole situation. “We talked about adoption before remember?” he waited for her response, but nothing. “Jagi, you remember that we talked about it like a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah” she frowned

He brought her into a hug, seeing how sad she still was. “We said that we’d adopt after having our first. Well, now we’ll just skip step one of our life plan and go straight to number two! You and I raising kids that we love, that’s the point of our plan, it doesn’t matter if they are biologically ours or not.”

Jackson:

Finally he was home from his week in China. It had been great being back in China, seeing his parents, being in his home, but he was even happier to be returning to y/n, especially after being so busy that they had no time to talk.

“Babe!” he called out as he walked through the door. “I’m finally home!” 

Y/n emerged from the bedroom as beautiful as ever in an over-sized t-shirt and sweatpants. There was a tiny smile on her face as she ran up to him and tackled him with a hug.

He attacked her face with kisses, “I missed you so much!” *kiss* Why did we both have to be so busy *kiss* we barely talked *kiss*” He grabbed her, bringing her down with him as he flopped his tired body on the couch and settled her on top of him. “I wish you came with me like last time. My parents were disappointed they couldn’t see you. But I told my mom about us wanting a little one and she gave me a whole list of names that she would like our future mini us to have haha.” To his surprise he saw y/n frown a bit. “Don’t worry they are all only suggestions, she won’t hate you if you don’t like any of them.” he added.

However, her frown didn’t leave her face “...Jackson...” 

“Hm?”

Y/n pulled herself up and sat up straight. He did the same quickly picking up on the serious vibe in the room.

“Remember how I was supposed to have a doctors appointment while you were gone?” she began.

“Yeah”

“...Well, the doctor gave me some news...”

“Good news? Like finally? Are you actually pregnant?” he asked with excitement.

All he got in return was a deeper frown growing on y/n’s face

“...So no luck this time either then?” he sighed

Y/n gave the tiniest of nobs, her eyes already getting watery. “...And there’s more”

“What is it?” he asked nervously.

“...I’m infertile.” she said with shame

“You’re what?”

“I-I ’m the reason we cant have a b-baby.” she sniffled. “The doctor let me know, that, you know, my body- It just won’t allow it.”

He couldn’t help but stare at y/n with such intensity. She just had to be messing with him somehow. What he wanted to believe was that she was putting up an act to trick him with bad news, and just give him the real news already. But the more he looked at her the more he could see how genuinely upset she was.

He could feel this ugly pain growing in his chest. It literally felt like his heart was being squeezed. All those daydreams he thought of he and y/n raising a girl or a boy that was just the perfect mix of them were all for nothing now. Every expectation and standard he had about being a father was all just a puff of smoke now. He fell back into the couch just feeling so empty.

He could feel her staring at him, waiting for his response. At a lost for words all her did was pull her close and let out a heavy breath.It took while until he could finally get himself to say “I’m sad now.” but even them his voice cracked over the lump forming in his throat.

“Me too” y/n said in a clear voice, but her cheeks streaked with tears. “I’m sorry”

He pulled her into a tighter hug. he felt mad at himself for making her feel bad. “I love you” were the only words that he could get out at the moment, but he knew that those were the only ones that mattered for now.

Youngjae:

“You’re infertile?” What y/n just told him didn’t completely make sense. Just a few days ago she had taken a few test, one actually coming back positive, but now after a few doctors appointments, she infertile. 

“Yeah” she frowned.

Immediately his fingers began to fidget with the wedding ring on his left hand. Ever since their wedding, it had become a habit to fidget with his ring whenever he felt nervous or bored.Right now he caught himself doing it again and almost let out an ironic laugh.  He never thought he would really get married, but that changed when he met y/n. Alot of things changed when she came into the picture.

After getting married, she pushed the idea of having kids. It wasn’t something he wanted at first, especially so soon into getting married, but the more she talked about it, the more excited he was in being a dad. When they officially started trying to get pregnant, he even caught himself daydreaming of what life would be like when they had a little one around. But now... now he could feel everything just crumble away at his feet. 

“So, at least you know, you kinda got what you wanted, not having kids and stuff. At least we got married like i wanted to, not that”common law” crap you kept giving me” she said in an attempt to sound positive about the whole thing.

“What do you mean i got what i wanted? I-I want kids too now.”

“But I can’t have any!” now her voice sounded sad and frustrated. 

“But we still have options right?” he asked in desperation. “Us having kids isn’t impossible! Like c’mon, look we are married now, remember how impossible it seemed to convince me on us getting married? Look at us now! We are going to have kids, I know we are!

Bambam:

“Dude what am i going to fucking do?!?”

“Bro just chill. Stop thinking about it.” Yugyeom said calmly.

‘How can i “chill”?!? Y/n might be pregnant! I can’t be a dad right now!”

“No shit, but panicking isn’t gonna make the whole thing any better.”

“Well what else-” Bambam was them cut off by his ringtone for y/n going off and Immediately he answered. ““Y/n, what’s the news?

“...C-can you come over?” Y/n’s voice was so soft over the phone. “We need to talk...”

-

She opened the door with a frown on her face and he expected the worse. 

“You’re pregnant! You’re pregnant aren’t you?!?” He panicked as he ran into her place.

“Bambam”

“What are we going to do?!? We are too young to be parents! I’m way too busy to be a dad! We aren’t even married! We aren’t even-”

“Bambam i’m not pregnant.” she said blankly

He stopped on the stop. “you’re not?”

“No.” she said with a straight face.

“Thank goodness.” 

There was a feeling of relief that he couldn’t describe.

“Good, this is good” he said as he let out a deep breath as if he just ran two miles

“...yeah” her reaction was nothing like his

“Aren’t you relieved y/n? “ he couldn’t help but ask, noticing her unpleasantness over the whole thing.

“Yes and no.”

He stayed quiet noticing that she had more she was going to say.”

“I’m relieved that we aren’t pregnant this time... but i also t found out i can’t get pregnant at all...” her expression became sour just getting the words out.

“What? How did you even find that out? You only went to see if you were pregnant, did you really do a whole check up every time you go or something?”

“...No... I haven’t been completely honest... There have been a few other times before I thought we had a little mistake, but each time it was nothing.” Here voice was just a soft mumble, just like on the phone earlier. 

“This time i genuinely thought it was real so when we looked further into it- Well it just explains hwy i never got pregnant before.” 

He didn’t really know how to take the news. He and y/n weren’t too serious, but they also weren’t complete strangers.

“Well... That means you can fuck without a condom!” he said trying to look on the bright side. 

Quickly she threw him an angry look.

“You know what? I shouldn’t have told you. You can just leave now.” she said in a grumble. 

“I’m sorry” he said just as fast. “I crossed the line...I don’t really know what to say... I just said something i thought that would make you laugh or something”

“Then just leave” she repeated

He wanted to do what she told him, but he couldn’t, seeing how upset she was and it felt wrong to just leave her this upset. He stayed still , not wanting to go.

“Bam, seriously leave. I just want to be alone right now.”

Still he didn’t listen. Instead he went up to her, putting a hand on her back, on for her to slap his hand away.

“Bambam, leave!”

“No”

“Why? So you can awkwardly “cheer me up” with depressing comments? I know you don’t want to be a dad, but didn’t you ever think that i would want to be a mom one day?!?” Here eyes were red and watery and she was in a sad rage. “Just because I didn’t want to be pregnant right now doesn’t mean I don’t ever want to be pregnant! But turns out i don’t even have the option, to like you care! So just leave!” she shouted

And now was the time to leave to avoid upsetting her even more. He walked to the door in defeat, but he turned to her just to give a her a few more words. “Y/n, Just because I don’t want to be a dad right now doesn’t mean i don’t ever want to be a dad either. I know we aren’t too close or too serious, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I don’t like seeing you upset, so if you do want to talk about this, then i’m all ears.” he said before he walked out the door.

Yuguyeom:

It wasn’t supposed to be a night where many people would be out, but with his luck the mall was just packed with people. Being in the crowded area had him feeling paranoid. He He didn’t want to leave the safety of the clothing store and navigate through the sea of people to the next store y/n was dragging him to.He wanted to tell her it was probably  time to go back home, but when he looked down at her, she looked like she was having so much fun being out and about.

He decided to stick with the date, being as unnoticeable as possible (which was hard to do considering that he was way taller than most people and that his brightly dyed hair kept peeking out of his beanie).

As he held himself back from being his loud goofy self in order to lay low, he distracted himself by taking notice of all the other mall visitors around him. They all seemed to be families. Young couples were all over, walking around and cooing at their babies and seeing them made his mind wander. He began to think of what it would be like if he and y/n were like one of the other young couple with a baby of their own here at the mall. As the cute thoughts began to fill his head, be had to admit that the idea of fatherhood didn’t seem that dad.

After about an hour of wandering from store to store, he and y/n finally went to the food court to eat. This is where they really had a moment to sit and talk without y/n getting distracted. “Y/n, have you ever thought about kids?” he asked 

Y/n’s eyebrows hot up at his random topic ”...Kids? Why are you talking about kids all of a sudden?”

He shrugged “I don’t know There area lot of kids around, and it got me thinking about, you know, us having kids one day...”

That’s when y/n frowned a bit. “...Do you like really really want kids?”

Again he shrugged. “Not now obviously, maybe one day i don’t know. I wouldn’t mind us having kids in the future.” He babbled nervously as he was unprepared by his own topic. “I mean of you want kids too and all. I don’t know i just , I don’t know. All the kids here look really cute and it just got me thinking that’s all.”

“...Well... I only ask cuz... A few years ago i found something out.” she said quiet, almost as if she was embarrassed. “I found out that- that i can’t have kids of my own, i’m infertile. “she mumbled as she played with a piece of her food.

“Ooh...”

“Yeah, so i only wanted to make sure if it was something you really wanted, cuz i didn’t want to disappoint you or anything. I just want you to know so that, if kids are really your thing, and you want biological kids, well then... you can find some one who can give you some haha.” she laughed nervously at her awkward wording, trying to hide the dark message she was trying to give. “I mean i want kids, but the only option for me really is adaption, you know?” still she looked down at her food, 

“... y/n...” he waited until she looked up at him. She barely did so, letting her hair fall over her eyes to hide herself a bit “We are still young ans all and i am still busy you know, with  GOT7, so kids won’t be an option for know i guess.... But  later, i would want to... i think... and whether kids would be our or not, as long as i have you to have a family with, that’s all i care about.”

-Admin Boat

[spnsimpleman]

Cavanaugh Park

This is my One Shot for @iwantthedean ‘s SoCo summer challenge!! 

My lyric prompt was “You always said Destiny would blow me away.”  The whole song, Cavanaugh Park by Something Corporate, had a hand in inspiring this one shot.  

Reader x Dean

Word Count: 4653

Warning: mentions/memories of attempted rape.

And this is where it all goes sideways. Yes, even for a hot shot like me. As I stood in the dark alley across the street and watched the candy coated idiot I’d been tailing all night slip behind her very nice apartment door, the thing I thought I was tracking had snuck up behind me.

Three fucking days in the strip club from hell very aptly named Hell’s Angels that held not only strippers as any type of demon or supernatural creature desired but also legit hell scape decor. Well, top two levels, at least, and depending on who you talked to, it wasn’t that hellish. Even in hell, they get all snobby.

That glitter storm wench that probably just skipped into her fancy ass kitchen and popped a bottle of wine was the only one with any connection to the two men and one woman who lost their shit and destroyed someone they cared about. But of course, that’s how a clever Siren would play it even if it didn’t know anyone was watching.

This one covered their tracks like a goddamn pro and poked me in the back with a small gun like I was some stupid hack on my first hunt. 

“Well, fuck me.”

“Ooo, whatta mouth,” she purred in my ear, really laying it on thick. “I’d really like to see what you could do with it, sailor.”

You always said Destiny would blow me away, pops. I just never knew it would be so fucking literal. “That’s either the business end of a tiny gun or the end of your stiletto needs a little work, Destiny.”

Destiny, the terrible, too-innocent-and-prude-for-this-job stripper who dressed as a fallen angel complete with broken gray wings. Like I said, fuck me. Bravo, Fate, you nasty bitch. She’s probably cackling her ass off somewhere too.

The gun pressed harder into my back before the blade of a knife, my fucking bronze dagger to be precise, kissed my jugular. “Oh, honey,” she hummed and sniffed my neck. “All thorns and… mmm, aren’t you interesting?”

I didn’t really have a move at this point so I went for my old stand by, fake it til you make it. “Putting your friend on them to hide your scent? Poor Candy never saw it coming, did she? You’re a terrible friend and a bloody awful stripper. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Better to have poor friends than none at all,” she giggled. She fucking giggled in my ear.

“Oh, fuck you.”

She sniffed my hair and exhaled with a sigh that held way too much arousal for my taste, “well, they didn’t, did they?” Her hand slid around my waist and tucked into the front of my jeans. She was checking for more weapons. Smart, damn it. I really hate the clever ones. “You are delicious. I love a good challenge.” The voice morphed on her last word, the stripper who’d been Candy’s innocent best friend forced to work to make ends meet was gone as the octave dropped and took on a distinctly male pitch. “Just a voice. Who knew a human could be so simple?” It whispered against the side of my neck with a voice from long ago.

It spun me around and I jabbed my fist into its wrist, knocking the dagger away. I grinned then had to clench down on every reaction to the fuzzy blur in front of me. It still had the gun and didn’t seem at all bothered by my removal of its second weapon.

“I could be your hero. I could be your everything.” That voice, I knew that voice.

I growled, “I am my own hero.”

“Not that night. I was.” I could hear the smile in the voice and it sickened me. It shouldn’t affect me so much, but I couldn’t stop the rage flowing back as the memory hit me hard.

Could Sirens do that? Pull forth the worst memory and that was how they boosted their victims urge to do what they wanted? But it didn’t make sense. Who knew where those boys were today.

The dark blur leaned in, “mmm, true. I guess we’ll just have to find some replacements. Surrogates can work just as well, at least I would make that sacrifice for you. Would you make the sacrifice for me?”

“Sacrifice?” I grit my teeth, “I don’t love them, they are nothing. That’s not your ballpark.” I kept my eyes open refusing to give a straight answer or block out the blur in front of me. I’d had that dream too many times and wasn’t willing to make it easier for it. I glared, not even glancing in the direction of the bronze dagger I would soon plunge in its chest. Hopefully, it would forget about it and keep all its attention on me.

The blur of a body pressed against me and sniffed from my chest all the way up the side of my face. I shivered and it pissed me off.

“There’s no one you love left, I make exceptions for special cases and honey, I love something a little different.”

The voice still fucked with me, how could it find that memory so easily? I hadn’t thought of that night in years. I hadn’t had the nightmare in weeks, if not months. A rough hand was on my face squeezing my cheeks trying to get me to open my mouth. So unlike the gentle hands that pulled me from the nightmare before it took another horrific turn.

The flash hit me hard, that night so long ago, two boys prying my legs open as the other held my arms above my head. I had screamed and fought like hell until two sucker punches smashed into my face. I could almost feel the blood vessels bursting, the pain blossoming around my eyes…

My jaw started to open and knocked me from the nightmare’s hold. I shoved away the images and kicked out hard. The siren’s grip slipped, the gun clattered across the asphalt as it stumbled back a step swinging its arms to balance. I gave it another swift kick square in its blurry chest. It crashed to the ground with a satisfying thud against the brick wall and I took off for the dagger.

But the memory wasn’t done with me yet, maybe the siren had a way of pulling it forward. It continued to play out in my head, words screaming from the guy that had pulled me from the pack of animals clawing at me. Go! RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!

The sounds of a fight behind me but I kept going, kept running no matter how many times I fell. I couldn’t see much through my swollen eyes but what was behind me could be so much worse. I still felt their rough hands on me, the stink of their breath, the slurring taunts echoing in my head no matter how far I stumbled…

No! I shook out of it. I didn’t run anymore.

The alleyway filtered back in, the nightmare cleared completely and I spotted the dagger only a foot to my left; I dove for it. I closed my hand around the handle I had made myself to fit like a glove as adrenaline rushed through my veins. I stood but the siren had caught up, shoving me into the brick wall. It grabbed my wrist and slammed it above my head but I wouldn’t let go. That dagger was mine. I wasn’t letting go.

I made myself a promise that night it wanted me to remember so damn bad, that I would never be overpowered again. If they had brawn, I had the smarts and I kicked the shit out of myself to heighten my brawn as well. There was always possibilities, I just had to find them. Outwit, outplay, outlast, or just straight up beat them with stubbornness. My pops called it determination, my uncle called it will power, but a rose by any other name and all that junk. Out-stubborn was kind of my forte.

Pride swelled in my chest when it stopped trying to break the dagger from my grip but that deflated quickly when I realized it didn’t need me to let go. The siren’s unidentifiable face was hovering over mine and the anger radiated off the only image I had of the guy that had saved me when I was sixteen. There was another promise I had made that night as I ran, that I would find him and thank him, but it’s impossible to thank a ghost. My promise morphed into being like him; when something’s wrong, don’t turn a blind eye, kick it in the ass.

It roughly grabbed my face and no matter how hard I grit my teeth, my jaw was slowly opening. No, no, no, NO! I struggled against it but its weight and position made it impossible to move. I glared, refusing to give up and become the one thing I had fought against my whole life.

It opened its blurry mouth and the pit that spit poison to control me was in there somewhere. I thrashed as much as I could but it wasn’t even close to any good. We both knew it and it infuriated me. Which gave me an idea.

I pulled my hand away from the wall with every ounce of that rage fueling me, each half an inch I gained messed with it. I grinned, “that’s right, bitch. Tell me you’re my hero again.”

“HEY!”

The weight shifted against me but it gripped my wrist tighter and slammed it back to the wall. “I’ll get to…” It’s blurry head turned and then it roared, “YOU!”

I stared at the man stalking toward us with a voice that held an air of familiarity. He stopped in the center of the alleyway where just enough of the street light landed on his face. A brief flash of confusion crossed his quite ruggedly handsome face as he studied the blur holding me. I caught a glimpse of a bronze dagger at his waist. A hunter. Fucking figures.

His hand dropped near his barely hidden dagger and he taunted, “if you were going for the Blob I think you got the wrong element there, sport.”

The blur vibrated, moving a step in the man’s direction before looking at me. It couldn’t make up its mind.

“Come and get it, shadow bitch!”

I flinched as it wrenched its grip away from my arm then raked its nails against my wrist. It roared and charged the other hunter. I cradled my wrists against my chest and stood there watching the action play out. Something about the hunter’s voice…

It lunged at the hunter and the scuffle was confusing. The blur and the man trading blows and remarks as it tried to spit its poison.

Go! RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!

The voice shouted and it took me a second to realize it was only in my head. I closed my eyes shaking the remnants of the memory and nightmare off with a mantra of my own making. I am Y/n, I am a fucking awesome hunter. I was a victim, but that never defined me just like my name or my mistakes don’t define me. I define me by every action, every decision, every damn time I scrape myself up off the floor and move the fuck on. I am a survivor, a fighter, and a goddamn badass with a blade!

I snapped my eyes open. Time to go to work. I pushed off the wall and assessed my best way in. The siren had changed, had shaped back into Destiny. Apparently, it considered the man as the room’s more dangerous occupant. Good. I liked to be underestimated.

It slammed the man into the wall and leaned in as I moved around behind it dipping the dagger into the blood filled pouch thankfully still attached to my belt.

“Oh, baby, are we gonna have some fun.”

I rushed the last few steps and plunged the knife into its back. It shrieked as it spun around. “Raincheck, bitch.” The anger I felt from the blurred image was painted all over Destiny’s face. “I guess you’re not the right Destiny after all.” I side kicked her into the wall and the point of the dagger popped through her chest. The siren finally dropped and I stepped back.

The man pushed off the wall and looked at me, “you’re a hunter?”

“Takes one to know one.” Wow, real smooth. I met his gaze and hopefully kept my inner thought to myself.

He studied my face and his brows furrowed. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t know you so, I guess not.”

He dropped his gaze and sighed as he rolled his shoulders. He surveyed the mess we had made in the alley but really who would notice?

“You wanna get a drink?”

I glanced down at the body of a woman flat on her face between us. My hackles rose, I didn’t owe him anything. “It was impossible to move where it had me but I was getting under its skin.” I knew how hunters were but I had to admit I was curious. His voice had such a touch of familiarity and kinda sounded like… no, it was just because the memory was so fresh but… there was no such thing as coincidence, did I just trade one monster for another? My mind warred and I glanced up trying to study him without looking at all interested.

“You seemed to have a good handle.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

He held up his hands, “I was just trying…” He sighed again and his body language spoke of a man running on little energy. He dropped his hands, “I need a drink. It’s late and you just closed my case. You can join if you want. It was just the first thing that came to mind. I’m Dean, by the way.”

I eyed him for a moment, trying to figure out why it hadn’t occurred to me that I didn’t even know his name. “Dean.” I pointed to myself, “Y/n.” Wow… way to go, Tarzan. “Sure.” I shrugged, “I would head to a bar anyway. I’m starving and really could use a drink.” Hello, I’m crazy lady and now that you’ve given me your name, I’m totally cool with going out with you. Shit. Getting a drink with you on a totally we’re in the same career field way. Ugh, fuck.

He gave me a nod and lifted the siren up easily. Show off. “Think you could help me get around that apartment building unnoticed? I’ve got a hole out back.”

Double show off. I gave a sharp nod and walked to the mouth of the alley. I pulled my gun from my back holster and shot out the two closest streetlights.

“You have a silencer?”

I winked but he probably couldn’t see it. “Top of the line, C.I.A. research and development. Go across, I’ll keep a look out to distract anyone until you get into the next alley.”

I may have walked behind him to study the way he moved and how he carried himself or maybe tried to figure out just how much muscle he had under that flannel shirt. He was way better looking than most, if not all, the hunters I’ve ever had contact with but there was no way in hell this man had any of my trust.

I was no damsel in distress. Never again. But if he was nice and we get along, I might just play right into his bed. It would give me a chance to check out what he’s packing in his hunter’s bag of toys and maybe find out who he was.

He dropped the body in the hole and lifted a shovel with a glance my way. He certainly had nice bone structure, I’d give him that. “What, no backup shovel?”

He looked at me as he pushed dirt into the hole, “why would I have a second?”

I shrugged and looked around, “never know when help might show up.”

He chuckled, “yeah. I’d just ask them if they wanted to help me hide a body.”

“I tried that once.”

He stopped and stared at me, “really?”

I smirked, “it was either that or try to pretend it wasn’t a body when I didn’t have anything but the head covered.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was a nice laugh, maybe too loud for the situation we were in but maybe that’s what made it better. Maybe I might just see what he’s packing under those jeans too.

~~

Dean watched Y/n as she made her way across the floor of the tavern. He had chosen the first open booth and wasn’t completely sure she’d even come. She wasn’t stupid; she didn’t know him and didn’t trust him. That much was easy to uncover but he was a hunter so maybe she was curious. There didn’t seem to be many of them left anymore.

He smiled as she slid into the bench seat across from him. He raised his hand catching the eye of the waitress, “I ordered already. I didn’t think you’d show.”

“Sorry, I needed to change. That damn glitter was driving me nuts.”

The blonde waitress turned that smile on bright as she sauntered over. Oh yeah, she was definitely into him. Too bad he just didn’t have it in him tonight. Her gaze flicked to the newcomer and she kept that smile on without even a crack in it, “what can I get ya?”

She ordered a burger and a whiskey then the waitress swayed those hips away. Y/n shifted in her seat and he glanced around trying not to stare. It was driving him crazy that something felt so damn familiar but the name didn’t ring any bells and they didn’t run in the same circles.

He shook it all off as the situation just being similar to so many other cases, but something had tugged up that old memory when he was seventeen and stumbled upon monsters of a different kind. He couldn’t even remember the name of the town. He should, it was the first time he got arrested and the asshole cops didn’t believe his story. There wasn’t even anything supernatural involved. At least, dad believed him though.

The jail cell wasn’t uncomfortable as much as it pissed him off. He was the hero here and yet they were treating him as the fucking bad guy. The cell finally opened and the uniformed officer waved him forward. “Your father is here.”

“Good. Someone with a brain is finally in the building,” he spat as he moved out. The officer pushed him. “Fucker,” he hissed under his breath covered by a cough as he walked down a hallway toward the next room.

His dad stood next to a desk looking pissed. Damn, he’d have to get the real story out quick.

“Dean.”

“Dad, you know I wouldn’t…”

“This officer said you beat the living hell out of three local boys. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

A flash of shock in his eyes, what did he think happened? Then the tight line in his mouth, the jerk in his jaw muscle. “What in the hell…”

“They were trying to rape a girl! I got them off her and told her to run! Just because these assholes can’t do their damn job they blame everything on me!”

The fat ass sorry excuse of an officer leaned on his desk, “the boys say there was no one else…”

“Of course, they would!” He clenched his fists not caring how much they ached.

Detective Chuckles crossed his arms over his chest. “These boys are known here in town. They’re good kids and no girl has called in or come in about an assault.”

Dean dropped his head and shook it. These assholes were going to pin this whole thing on him because he wasn’t local. Sonsofbitches.

“Yes, I’m sure a terrified girl who just went through the worst experience of her life thought her best option would be to come forward against three of the good ol’ boys in town.”

Dean snapped his head up and stared at the barely concealed rage that rolled off his dad.

“What would you have said to her? That it was her word against the good local boys who all denied it?”

The two officers ruffled and rolled their shoulders. Detective Chuckles responded as he tightened his arms across his chest, “the only evidence we have…”

His dad’s face twisted and he slammed his fist on Detective Fatass’s desk. “Did you even look at the area? Did you even consider my son’s story? What the hell were those boys doing out there, huh? Did you do your job at all or just take the good local boys word for it?”

His dad gave them barely a second before he steamrolled on. “I don’t see anyone else here but my son so I’m pretty damn sure what happened here.” He pulled out his FBI badge and slammed it on the desk. “You let my son go now and we don’t have to go any further but I’m telling you now, I’m watching this station. I’m keeping my eye on this town because if it happened tonight, it could’ve happened before. If they got away with it tonight, they’ll probably do it again. Clean up your town and do your fucking job.” The officers stared at a livid John Winchester and Chuckles even had his jaw hanging like a broken rear bumper. “Get those fucking cuffs off my boy, now.”

Dean walked out of the station completely blown away. His dad was still fuming as they strode to their sides of the car. His dad stopped before opening the driver’s door and looked at Dean over the roof. “What…” He grit his teeth and looked away, “did you stop them?”

Dean dropped his gaze as the memory of earlier that night shot into the foreground, “they didn’t but… I didn’t get there soon enough. Jesus, dad, I hung out with those guys at school. Adam was…” Dean shook his head, his stomach churning at what he found when he made it to the area of the park Jordan had told him to meet. “If you saw what they had done to her… I just lost it. They were ripping her underwear off when I got there and I caught a glimpse of her face. I was running late because I stole a forty to bring… if I had been on time…” His muscles clenched and he had a sudden need to punch something again. “I did beat the shit out of them and I would do it again.”

His dad was quiet and he looked up. His dad was smiling but there was something there in his eyes, haunted. “Good. No man should ever treat a woman like that. And anyone that does deserves whatever you gave him.”

“You still here with me, Dean?”

He shook his head and looked up at the strong, self-possessed woman who killed the siren. He hoped that girl had the chance to become something like her, or just the chance to become whatever the hell she wanted. He cleared his throat, “yeah, sorry. Just… memories sneaking up on me.”

She nodded, looking into her glass. Another haunted look. “Yeah, I know all about that.”

“You don’t have to answer but what was with the siren…  going all shadowman?”

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “It said I didn’t know what I really desired. Just knew a voice.” She forced a laugh but her back tensed, “there’s no one left I love so… and nothing I’m in desperate need of, you know? When I’m tired, I sleep. When I’m hungry, I eat. When I’m feisty…” she blushed and took another sip from her glass, “you know what I’m saying. The hunter’s lifestyle.” She turned her glass as she stared down at it.

“Yes.” He smirked, “my brother disagrees with what he calls my version of the lifestyle but sometimes you just need a good roll in the hay to clear out the nightmares.” He took a swig from his beer, “he’s also a pain in the ass so…”

She chuckled, “I don’t know. Having a partner sure would make hunting a bit easier but it’s hard to find one that doesn’t screw shit up or make you want to kill them because they think they get a free pass in your pants just because you closed a case.” She glanced at him with a smirk, “but you probably don’t have that problem.”

“Are you kidding? I get that problem all the time. Damn hunters and insane libidos. Thinking they can get in my pants just because they looked my way.”

She stared at him and he thought he read her wrong until she finally let go and laughed. A full out burst of joy. The tight hold she had over her features softened, her eyes brightened and glittered in the soft light above their booth, and her smile was just something else. He loved it. Every damn carefree second of it.

Her laughter calmed and she looked down at her glass, her mouth curled in a grin and her face warm with a glow that made him lean a little closer. She glanced his way before finally gazing into his eyes again, she lost some of that edge from earlier, “I gotta admit, this is nice. I thought you’d push liquor on me and try to talk me into a quickie in the bathroom. You’re a welcome change on this shitty road.”

“Never. The bathroom definitely wouldn’t give me enough time.” He winked, “I’m just surprised we’ve never bumped into each other before. There’s not many of us left.”

“And I thought the Winchesters were a damn myth.”

He grinned, “is that right?”

“I mean come on, do you know half the things they say about you? That you’ve got an angel for a best friend, that God himself brought you back from the dead, multiple times mind you, and you shacked up with a vampire in purgatory.” She cackled, “I mean seriously…” her sparkling eyes met his and her smile faltered. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“Okay, the vampire shacking up thing is completely misconstrued…”

“Fuck you.”

He pulled back, studying her assessing gaze, “ahh…”

The waitress set down their plates and glanced between the two of them, “need anything else?”

She narrowed her eyes then turned to the waitress, “we need more whiskey, thanks.”

The waitress looked at him and he nodded. She headed back to the bar as y/n leaned forward, “I can tell if you’re lying. I was trained by the best.”

“Would you like to talk to that angel?” He pulled out his cell phone.

She quirked a brow, “you’re going to call him. You’re telling me your angel has a cell phone?”

He nodded, “and a ridiculous voicemail.”

“Bullshit.”

“You wanna put some money down on that?”

She leaned back and eyed him. He swiped the phone open, tapped the right icon, then held his finger over Cas’s contact.

“If you can prove some of the wildest theories,” she grinned, “I’ll give you fifty bucks and for each one you can’t, you owe me.”

Dean had a feeling she held an ace but he knew some of the stories and most were true. She lifted her burger as if she was no longer concerned but she smiled before taking a bite with a look in her eye he knew well.

This night was just about to get awesome. Thank you, Destiny. Nah, fuck her. He still had it. Some things just never change.

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri, @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23 @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke , @captainemwinchester , @escabell , @mrswhozeewhatsis

[standbyphoenix]

River Phoenix Is Not Just The Boy Next Door By Karen Schoemer.

In "My Own Private Idaho," River Phoenix plays the boy next door, except that next door is a ghetto where street youths sleep on the sidewalk. As Mike Waters, a narcoleptic teen-age hustler, Mr. Phoenix's closest approximation to home is a ransacked, burned-out hotel; his surrogate family is a rickety support system of street friends. His knowledge of his real home consists of dim memories of his mother, a house whose color he can't remember, and a brother who lives somewhere in Idaho.

In the film, which was shown at the New York Film Festival and opens today in New York and nationally Oct. 18, Mr. Phoenix wears no makeup, and there's a even pimple or two on his cheek. His clothes are seedy, and his dirty-brown hair continually disheveled. In other words, he strips Mike of none of his grime in a performance that earned him the best-actor prize at this month's Venice Film Festival.

"He's put his lips as close to any street-gutter ooze as you can," Mr. Phoenix says of his character. "His cut-open flesh is as close to a stone brick wall as anything. He's part of the street. He's like a rat."

Mr. Phoenix's performance as Mike, along with his role as an aggressive marine in the current film "Dogfight," represents a marked departure for an actor who has epitomized the more conventional version of the boy next door.

In the 1986 film "Stand by Me" he was a tough but tender small-town teen-ager who goes on an adventure with three pals; in "The Mosquito Coast" (1986) he played the earnest son of an idealistic inventor. His portrayal of a brainy, sensitive piano student breaking free of his family in the 1989 film "Running on Empty" won him an Academy Award nomination. Even playing the young Indiana Jones in a big-budget action film like "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" that same year, Mr. Phoenix had the chance to grapple with the differences between right and wrong.

Roles like these have made the 21-year-old Mr. Phoenix one of the most respected and popular young actors in Hollywood. The list of directors he has worked with includes Sidney Lumet, Peter Weir, Rob Reiner, Steven Spielberg and Lawrence Kasdan; among his co-stars have been William Hurt, Harrison Ford, Christine Lahti, Kevin Kline and Sidney Poitier.

"River is the archetype of the young male lead," says Gus Van Sant, the director of "My Own Private Idaho." "He had a slot that he was in, and that he's actually growing out of. But at the time in Hollywood, everyone with a project that had an 18-year-old blond-haired, blue-eyed kid would always say, 'We're thinking of River Phoenix in this part.' "

In another sense, "My Own Private Idaho" is simply an extreme, desanitized version of themes that have cropped up repeatedly in Mr. Phoenix's films. "Running on Empty," "The Mosquito Coast," "Little Nikita" and even "Stand by Me" addressed the meaning of family relationships and, in particular, the attempt to create a normal family situation under abnormal circumstances. These problems are the primary motivation for Mike Waters, who eventually embarks upon a twisted, circular journey in search of his mother.

Sitting in a Japanese restaurant in the SoHo section of Manhattan recently, Mr. Phoenix at first dismisses these connections. "I don't ever think of a project in reference to what I've done in the past," he says. "It's isolated for me. I can't think of it like that, because it becomes more of a format strategy. Any script is its own little time frame."

He stops short, momentarily diverted by a conversation between a man and a woman at the table next to him. " They're talking about family," he adds, looking at the man. "He's talking about how this woman should leave the family and not be supported by her family, and get a job and not be like her older sister who's always coming back to the house for refuge. It's just a universal thing."

Mr. Phoenix grew up in a rather atypical household. He was born in Madras, Ore., in 1970; a key location in "My Own Private Idaho," a long, flat stretch of road where Mr. Phoenix begins and ends the film, is about 15 miles from his birthplace. His parents were itinerant fruit pickers who moved the family to South America when River was 2, while they worked as missionaries. By the late 1970's the family moved back to the United States, eventually winding up in Los Angeles. It was there that young Mr. Phoenix got his first exposure to movies.

"Before I came back to America, I thought features were Kellogg's commercials and cartoons," he says. "Then I saw a western, and I thought that companies paid people's families money to kill them. I just believed it."

By the time he was 9 or 10, his fascination with the mysteries of film making had inspired him to want to make them himself. "Woody Allen was the first time I really could not figure out how something could be so real," he says. "I was like, How can anything be this real yet contrived? That question is what makes you want to find out."

Mr. Phoenix made his film debut in the 1985 sci-fi adventure "Explorers," but it was "Stand by Me" and "The Mosquito Coast" the next year that brought him wider attention. With the exception of "A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon" in 1988, he has managed nicely to stay away from standard teen-age roles.

Throughout his career, Mr. Phoenix has remained close to his family. Three years ago they settled in Gainesville, Fla., on what Mr. Phoenix says is "the first property my family and I ever purchased." One brother, Leaf, who is also an actor, recently accompanied him to the Toronto Film Festival. A sister, Rainbow, performs with Mr. Phoenix in a band called Aleka's Attic, which has played in New York clubs and appears on the compilation album "Tame Yourself," made to benefit the animal-rights organization People for the Ethical Treatment for Animals.

"I have much interest in why everyone thinks there's something uncanny and special about my family," says Mr. Phoenix, "when for me it was the norm. I knew that something was terribly wrong in a general American way. In America you don't see honest bonding, you see a kind of politically correct family. But you can't learn from reading self-help books; you can't learn from reading Parenting magazine. It's taught by your parents -- unless you come from, like my parents, or my father especially, a completely abusive family.

But someone like Mike, my character in 'Idaho,' he'd probably be one of the best fathers," Mr. Phoenix adds. "Once he matures, he's going to have a family like no one's business."

— By KAREN SCHOEMER | Published: September 29, 1991

[Photo: River Phoenix - His films are about trying to create normal families. (G. Paul Burnett/The New York Times)].

[delightfulnerdinfluencer-blog]

Misunderstanding Chapter 5 A Mystic Messenger fanfic

A week later…

“Why does Philosophy have to be so boring!” Yoosung cried. The heel of his hands pressed into his eyes. “I was barely able to stay awake!”

Yeoja laughed at her friend as they walked. She was not going to remind him that he was the one that stayed up the night before playing LOLOL with Saeyoung and Saeran. The reason he gave that he was up so long was, he got beat pretty hard by the twins in the game, repeatedly. Thinking that one more match and he would beat them. She had heard all about it on the drive to school that morning. How they must have hacked the system or something. That there was no way they could be that good. She was also pretty sure she would hear all about it when she got home.

“Oh, what are you going to do now?” Yoosung sprung out of his whining fast to ask the question. As if he remembered something.

  “Um, going home. You have that three-hour lab. So, I was just going to leave like I normally do.”

“So, um, there is this new café that opened up near the school. After my lab wanna go? I heard that they have really good sweets!” He looked more like a puppy waiting for his treat. This made Yeoja laugh again, her hand came to cover her mouth.

“Were you not the person the other day complaining that they had no money? Now you want to take your best friend’s girl out to a café?” This made Yoosung laugh as well.

“You’re my best friend too! Well, you’re more like my older sister.” A faint blush dusted his cheeks, “My mom sent me a little extra money to take ‘that someone special’ out… well since I still don’t have a girlfriend. You’re the next best thing!”

“I’m honored to be a surrogate ‘special someone’. Yeah, I’ll hang around school until you get out.” Yeoja wrapped her arms around one of Yoosung’s and nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. “Who knows your special someone might be around the corner!”

As they rounded the corner to an empty hall Yoosung’s shoulders sunk. Yeoja nuzzled his shoulder again trying to make him feel a bit better.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of Saeyoung rubbed off on you.”

“Well… I would go into detail, but good little boys should hear about the birds and the bees from their parents.” Yeoja stood upright and act as much of a teacher as she could while holding back laughing at her beet red friend beside her.

They reached his next classroom and parted ways. He promised that he would text her as soon as he got out. Yeoja smiled before turning to walk outside.

It was warm. The sun was bright in the sky, even though it still hung low in the midday. Yeoja hummed as she made her way to the smoking pit on school grounds. Even though she had stopped smoking completely the day she found out she was pregnant. It was still the most peaceful place in school. She did not want to waste the warm day by being inside the library.

The trees had started to bud with new life. Birds singing the triumphant return of the warm weather to come. The was a light cool breeze but it felt amazing from the bitter cold that was there a few days prior. Nothing remained of the snow storm that had just happened. The snow had melted and in its wake, was left muddy patches on the ground. As if it was all just a dream. Yeoja pulled out her phone to send a text. From: Yeoja To: Saeyoung     Hey going to stay late. Yoosung and I are going to this new café down the road from the school after his last class. I will see you later than normal. With that she sent it. It was most likely Saeyoung was still sleeping. The beep of getting a text message told her otherwise. From Saeyoung To Yeoja     Oh, so you’re leaving me for someone even younger! Fine! T0T She could see the overdramatic flair this man was doing as she read the text. An arm over his eyes as he sunk to the ground. His voice loud as faked tears rolled down his face. As he reached the ground he would place his head down. With a fisted hand, he would beat the ground below at the indignity of his cruel fate. Wailing loudly as he cursed the cat gods above. From Yeoja To Saeyoung     Can I make it up to you by bringing you something from there? ^^;; The respond was quick. From Saeyoung To Yeoja         Yes ❤

She giggled as she put away her phone and walked.

The smoking pit was like a small park. It had benches along the wall of the adjacent building. Trash cans that doubled as ash trays in-between them. The small grassy area that in closed the bricked ground was squishy but the buds of flowers were starting to peek through the pine needles. There were two paths leading to the area and out to the two closest buildings. Thankfully no one was there. Knowing that if someone was there she would not have been able to stay. She loved this little area. It was far off from the campus route that unless you were a smoker, no one had a reason to come.

She had picked up smoking in her first year of college. Her dead-end job barely paid her enough to eat and live off of. It was not like her parents could send her money every month to help her out. They barely made enough to live their self, she could not have asked them to send her help. Yeoja was on her own when she moved and she knew it. Picking up the habit after she learned that it kept hunger away, and it worked. For the last few years before meeting the RFA she lived off instant noodles and cigarettes. She tried not to smoke around her new friends, feeling shame that she let them down. Zen was the first to find out. Even though he did not approve he promised he would help her. Like a good big brother would, in his words. When Saeyoung found out, she felt as if her relationship with him was about to end. It was her biggest secret she kept from him. Saeyoung hated that she smoked and she promised that she would quit. she was almost there when she found out. Giving her last unopen pack to Zen. Promising that she would never go back.

Yeoja found a spot in the sun and sat down. The rays warmed her after being stuck in a cold classroom for the last hour and a half. It took her a moment of enjoying the day before she dug out a textbook. Flipping through the pages to find where they were. A voice stopped her.

“You done or do I need to give you another minute?” This made Yeoja look up to who spoke. Knowing who it was before she saw the figure standing at the entrance of the pit. It was her advisor, Dr. Park. A tall, thin woman in her mid-fifties. Dr. Park wore a bright purple shirt and jeans with a light jacket. Her wild salt and pepper hair pulled back in a hair band to keep the untamed curls out of her face.

“No, actually I quit. I still like it here though.” This statement made her advisor’s eyes go wide with delight. The older woman cheered as Yeoja stood and walked to her. Pulling Yeoja in a big hug.

“I knew you could do it!” No one outside of her parents and the RFA knew she was pregnant. She knew the risk of miscarriage at her age. So, she had not planned to tell anyone until she was further along. “So, then, what may I ask are you doing right now? Do you have a minute? I have someone you have to meet.”

“I got a few hours until Yoosung gets out of his class.” Yeoja went back to get her things.

“Good, good.” Dr. Park nodded. “Come with me. Remember we were talking about who would be on your advisory committee? I know we have a few years to worry about your doctoral advisory committee, but I was talking about you to a friend of mine. She said that she would be interested in helping with your Master’s Thesis. I hope you don’t mind I did use your married name when telling her about you.”

“No, you’re good. It’s not but two weeks away now so I got to get used to it at some time. Besides, our friends already do.” Yeoja said adjusting her bookbag as they walked.

“Now, I will tell you a little about her. Her major was law but she also majored in psychology in her undergrad. She was a lawyer for a few years and a good one at that. She actually has daughters your age.” Dr. Park rambled on. Yeoja was just excited to start forming the idea of her master’s thesis. She had ideas passing through her head. Her steps were near skips as they walked to the social sciences hall. If she had access to a former lawyer, then she could cover some legal aspects that might come up in her project. “I have been meaning to ask, Yeoja. Was that Zen in your video project?”

Yeoja stopped a few feet ahead of Dr. Park and looked back at the woman. “Oh, you know Zen?” the question was met with a look as if Yeoja should have known the answer. “Yeah, that was Zen. He’s one of my best friends. Sorry I keep forgetting that he’s kinda well known.”

This got a laugh out of the older woman as she walked up to stand with Yeoja. It was easy to forget who some of her friends were. When they were together they weren’t a director of one of the largest companies in the country, an actor, an assistant, hackers, or gaming addict. They were all normal people inside the chat and when they met in person. They had their flaws and their strengths. Joking and sharing stories about what they were doing at the time. Yeoja kept most of her RFA life apart from her school life. None of her school friends knew about knew who she hung out with the outside of school, aside from Yoosung. On the other hand, everyone in the RFA knew everything about her school life. She trusted them more than anyone else in her life. They were just normal people who she loved. They were her family.

Yeoja pulled out her phone and started to flip through her pictures to find the most recent selfie of her and Zen together. He had helped her with the project since Saeran and Saeyoung were busy with work and she did not want to bother them. He was more than happy to help; writing out most of the script they used since she had no idea know to make the mock session last for over ten minutes. Even pulling most likely the best performances of his career for a school project.

“I’m a big fan of his!” This was a squeal of a fangirl and not a professor of psychology.

“I’ll tell him you were happy with his performance.” Yeoja beamed, then showed the selfie of herself and Zen to her teacher. The way her teacher went on about his acting, Yeoja was not going to bring up that she has been in his house. Or that the hoodie she was wearing was originally his.

Starting back on their trip to the hall, Yeoja had to tell Dr. Park how they met. Or what she had told people about why she went missing for two weeks. Lying that she needed a few days off for her “mental health” that lead to her having a family emergency. So, she had to leave for a bit to take care of her family. In this time, she had met Zen, Jumin, the Choi twins, Jaehee. Yoosung was the easiest to lie about since they attended the same school. As it turned out having a class together before they met. She had never noticed him. The others were harder to tell how they met. In time, she came up with a believable enough story. That through Yoosung she met the rest. The Choi’s are his best friend. While Zen and Jumin were close personal friends of his family. Since Jaehee worked for Jumin, she was a tag along. For some reason, this story worked. Then again how they really met might have sounded more of a lie than the story she told.

“I guess I can’t be surprised anymore with who you know. I mean if Mr. Han is personally funding your education then I guess it’s easy to think that you would know an actor or two.” Dr. Park stated as they walked up the granite stairs to the red brick building with white letters the name of the person who gave to most money to the school for the building.

Jumin somehow found out about her lack of money and school funding. Even though Saeyoung played innocent she was sure it was him. Unlike Yoosung who had a scholarship that paid more than enough to go to school, get his books, and live off of. Yeoja had to take massive student loans out. Jumin offered her a deal when she came back from her trip to get Saeran. Keep her grades up and he would pay off the loans she already had and pay for the rest of her schooling as long as she needed. Even paying her a little each month to live on, saying that was her payment for the work she did within the RFA.

Entering the building they were greeting by two boards up for college updates and another one for student news that students posted their self at the entrance. To the right side was the student lounge complete with vending machines, a couch, TV, and a couple of tables. To the left were the stairs and elevator. The halls were deserted. With the muffled sounds of the various lectors going on behind the closed doors. Everything from Psychology to History was housed in here.

The pair took the stairs. The bright blue and a gold that glittered in the sun of the school’s colors welcomed them. The click of heels and shuffle of sneakers echoed off the walls as they made the hike up the next two floors. They went in silence only letting their footsteps speak for them. Bright sunlight poured in through the windows, warming the stairwell. When they reached the floor, the two made a sharp turn into a back hallway where the professor’s offices were hidden. As they passed an open door a deep male voice rang out.

“Dr. Park got Yeoja for smoking again!” He teased. They stopped and Yeoja walked back to his door and looked inside. A large smile beamed from him. “Such a bad student you are, Yeoja. I mean really” sarcasm dripped from each word he spoke.

Yeoja grabbed her heart and acted as if she was wounded, “Oh, yes, I am truly the worst of them all.”

With a shared laugh, she waved at the teacher and started back with Dr. Park. The rest of the way was short. They stopped at a door with Dr. Park’s name on it. The older woman opened the door and let Yeoja enter first.

“I would like you to meet my friend, Chaeha Chon.” Yeoja stopped as the second older woman stood. 

“You’re the Prime Minister’s wife!” Yeoja gasped then quickly bowed to the woman. Her heart thundered in her chest. She was the one that said she would help? No way she could be this lucky. This had to be a crazy dream. No one was this lucky.

Chaeha was about Yeoja’s height at 5’4”. Short cropped black hair framed the older woman’s thin face. She looked as if she had just stepped off of a runway. Dressed in a white pantsuit with a black blouse underneath. Nothing out of place. There was no stray hair or piece of lint on this woman.

“Nice to see you again Mrs. Choi.” Chaeha smiled to the young woman extending a hand to her. Yeoja took a step in a jerking movement to take Chaeha’s hand.

“Oh? You two have met?” Dr. Park looked between the two, puzzled.

“Yes, briefly, when I went to lunch with Chairman Han. She was there with Mr. Han.” Chaeha gave a thin smile to her friend, as she sat back down. The older woman then turned her attention to the younger woman in front of her. Deep chocolate eyes studied the student before her.

“Yeah, I had to talk to him about my grades.” The words had come out quick as Yeoja lied. Praying that Chaeha would not say anything about the RFA. How would she explain that to her teacher?

The two older women talked about little things in hopes to make Yeoja feel more comfortable. In time, Yeoja began to enter the conversation. Stuttering her words at first then becoming more comfortable in her speech. Still, every time Chaeha’s gaze went to her, Yeoja had to look away. Finding many of the little figures and posters that lined the walls of the room very interesting. There was something in her stare that made her feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was just her nerves acting up on her. This woman had been a politician’s wife for many years. She was powerful. Having to hold her own for many years. Maybe this is what made her feel unease towards the woman. This could have been seen nothing more as a job interview.

“So, next semester you will be working for your master’s degree?” Chaeha questioned. Sitting forward in her chair. Elbows coming to rest on her knees. Yeoja shifted again under the watch of the older woman.

“Um, Yeah,” Yeoja mumbled. Taking a deep breath to calm herself. She had to make sure the next words she spoke came in clear. “I mean I am taking next semester off. I will be back in January.” She went to stand straight. Even if she was feeling flustered at that moment, she could not show it.

Another thin smile came to the prime minister’s wife as she sat back in her chair. “Do you have an idea about what you want to do? With your project that is?”

“I had an outline but now that I know you’re willing to help me then I might need to change it. Maybe something with political implications. Still in Psychology that is.” The more Yeoja spoke the more comfortable she felt. Becoming braver with each word that came from her mouth. “My interest is in art therapy, but I do not think my paper has to just focus just in that. Maybe the psychological and political impact of single mothers or something in the family.”

Chaeha laugh ranged loudly, “I see what you meant by this girl will try and change the world.”

Yeoja rocked back on her heels, a large grin on her lips. She was happy with how the prime minister’s wife reacted to her. It seemed as if Dr. Park was happy as well.

“Well, we are about to go eat. You should join us, I’ll pay.” Yeoja looked at her advisor when she clapped her hands. “I mean I might be bragging here to try and get more funding. But Yeoja is one of my best students.”

“I’m sorry.” Yeoja joked back. Then looking at her phone. It had only been 20 minutes since she left Yoosung. She still had time and no college student in their right mind would ever pass up free food. Free food and the chance to pick the brain of a former lawyer. “I have a little time. Yoosung won’t get out for like another two hours.”

A cat like grin went over Chaeha’s lips. “Oh, Yoosung is your husband, right?”

“He’s like my little brother. My husband’s name is Saeyoung, Saeyoung Choi.” Yeoja laughed at what Yoosung would have looked like being called her husband. How the blonde’s face would have red. Stumbling over each word as he tried to clear his name. The genius redhead would blow a circuit laughing at his friend.

“Does your husband know you hang around other men?” Chaeha teased.

“I would hope so since Yoosung is like family to him as well. My other guy friends, we also count as our family. One big dysfunctional family.” This was true. They were their family. “Oh, I need to go to my car to drop off my stuff. I’ll be back.”

Before Yeoja reached the door, Dr. Park caught her, “No, I can drive you there.”

“But, um…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Chaeha.

“Are you worried about what she’ll think of you if she sees your car? Sweetie, we both were college students. We know it’s almost mandatory to drive a shitty car.” *_*_* Saeyoung typed away, only to pull away for a chip or a drink. He was reviewing the logs that he had hacked from his father. Call log, internet searches, documents, anything that would give Saeyoung an idea about what the Prime Minister was doing. In the week since the meeting, he had done this every day. Still, the man did nothing to even look for the Choi’s. Saeyoung had wracked his brain in ways that he could think of that Chon might try. Nothing. He had not tried to contact either of the twins. He was keeping his word. Hell, the man did not even look up porn on any of his devices.

Placing his head in his hands Saeyoung let out an annoyed groan. As he looked back at the computer screen he noticed something for the next day. He would be talking to a group of new hires. Maybe doing a bit of recon would give him more data.

“Hey,” Saeyoung waited until he heard Saeran grunt to let him know to start speaking again, “So how would you feel if I said I was going to be a new hire under the prime minister?”

“I would say that you’re fucking stupid. Did you get that earpiece fixed?” Saeran was getting just as frustrated with dealing with the Prime Minister as Saeyoung was. Unlike Saeyoung, Saeran could drop the subject and move on with life. If he was leaving them alone then he would do the same thing. Saeyoung just could not leave it alone. Within the past couple of days checking his location on his cell. Checking every day what the man did. Saeran knew his brother’s reason, to keep everyone safe.

“I fixed it so you can hear me.” Saeyoung turned in his chair to face his younger brother. He turned back to the screen and began to hack the server again to put his information down.

Name: Luciel Choi Age: 23 Gender:

Saeyoung stopped as he thought about the last question. He could go as a woman. Luciel could be a woman’s name or a man’s name. That’s was one of the reasoning he liked it.

“Yeoja doesn’t like it when you dress as a woman.” Saeran’s voice in his ear made him jump.

As if on cue the computer beeped to let them know that she had entered the gate. It was a short time later that she walked in the door. The hackers greeted her as she entered the kitchen.

“Babe, so dress or suit?” Saeyoung purred in Yeoja’s ear.

“If you do not get away now I will throw up on you. You reek.” An arm braced her on the counter while the other was around her middle. Saeyoung stepped behind his brother. “If we are talking about the wedding then suit. Any other time I don’t care. If that’s all I’m going to bed.”

“Saeran said that you didn’t like it when I wore a dress.”

“I don’t like you having nicer legs than me. There is a big difference.” She said as she left the room.

Saeran looked at Saeyoung as they went back to the computer room, “I thought it was called morning sickness because it only happened in the morning.”

That earned a laugh from Yeoja from down the hallway, “It’s the biggest lie ever. Morning sickness will hit whenever it damn well pleases.” She shouted.

Saeyoung went back to the file.

Gender:

It was still blank. He only had his female wigs in red. If he wore a skirt and button down he would be a mirror image of the legal twin. With a sigh, he put that he was male. Then filled out the rest. Brown hair and eyes. Saeyoung groaned at the idea of another day with contacts in. The wig was bearable, enjoyable sometimes. For some reason his eyes hated contacts. With a few more details he placed his file with the rest of the new hires.

Saeyoung went to check on Yeoja. Entering the room the lava lamp gave a low glow that let the glow in the dark stars still work. Yeoja was in the middle of the bed with the blankets wrapped around her.

“Change or you’re not getting near me.” This earned a chuckle from the hacker. He complied with her demand before slipping in behind her under the blankets. He loved how she fit just right in his arms and against his body.

“My poor baby. What’s wrong.” He kissed the back of her head.

“Your children do not like me eating. Also, they must have been cold because they lit my heart up. I have some epic heartburn.” Saeyoung quickly rolled over and grabbed his phone. She just shook her head as the messenger beeped. It took her a moment before she reached her phone to find out what her favorite hacker was giggling like a school girl about. Saeyoung: I

Saeyoung: have

Saeyoung: breaking

Saeyoung: news

Saeyoung: ((((DRUMROLL))

Zen: Quit spamming!!

Saeyoung: We

Saeyoung: are

Saeyoung: having

Saeyoung: girls

Saeyoung: !!!!!!!!!!

Saeyoung then flooded the chat with his love emoji.

Yeoja has entered the chat

Zen: I said quit it damn it

Zen: Do you know what he is talking about?

Yeoja: Yeah, I just told him I had heartburn and he got on here.

Zen: Saeyoung I don’t think that’s how it works!

Saeyoung posted a picture of the last ultrasound.

Saeyoung: Aren’t my girls beautiful?

Saeyoung: I would like to introduce the RFA to my girls

Saeyoung: Porsche and Elizabeth

Zen: No!!

Yeoja: Not Porsche

Yeoja: Elizabeth is fine though

Saeyoung: Their first language they’re going to learn is binary

Zen: No!

Yeoja: Hell no!

Jaehee has entered the chat

Zen: As those two godfather I will not stand for you to do that to them

Zen: They will learn Korean first

Jaehee: Since when did you become their Godfather, Zen?

Zen: … well

Zen: I was never asked…

Zen: But I am!

Yeoja: Well, I was going to ask all of the RFA to be the Godparents to them. So he isn’t wrong.

Saeyoung: My pretty girls!!

Saeyoung: Curly red hair and gold eyes!

Jaehee: Saeyoung you can not tell the sex of your children by just her having heartburn.

Saeyoung: I read it online…

Yeoja has left the chat.

Zen: Is she okay?

Saeyoung looked over to see Yeoja putting away her phone quickly as she dashed out the room.

Saeyoung: She’s sick I should go take care of my girls!!

Saeyoung posted another picture of the ultrasound.

Saeyoung has left the chat It was a while before she returned. Just as she entered Yeoja turned around and ran back into the bathroom. He rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm. Saeyoung wished there was more he could do for her. Yeoja did not like the ginger tea he’d made to help and threw up the ginger ale. It was times like these he hated. There was nothing he could do to help. After the third attempt, Yeoja made it back to bed.

“Hey lay on your back.” She did as he asked.

Saeyoung moved to be close to her side. Then began to rub around the bump higher to her stomach then back to circle around the bump again. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as his hand made another go around her torso.

“I’m sorry baby.” Yeoja shook her head as he peppered the side of head and neck with kisses.

“No, thank you, I’m starting to feel better.” Saeyoung smiled as he kissed her hair.

“I’ll make it all better.”

[penelope1730]

The Six Thatcher’s: There be redemption.

I might be in the minority here, but I liked BBC Sherlock, season four debut, The Six Thatchers. Honestly, the past three years felt like a century where the return of episodic Sherlock was concerned, so I confess my expectations were open to just about anything. Three years of chilling out & time spent in reflection, along with a whole lot of distance regarding 'what's next' on Sherlock can do wonders for one's perspective.

I was never a big fan of Mary, especially after the whole shooting Sherlock thang, but I grew to respect her and even began to appreciate qualities she brought out in other characters. She also precipitated growth & intimacy that might not have otherwise happen, or gone a very, very slow route. More on that later.

I came to accept that Mary and Sherlock have a special bond. They are kindred spirits - both fully understanding who the other is with an appreciation that few might be able to truly 'get.' Mary's death, without question, has devastated Sherlock beyond his normal ability to reason & process and, knowing this, Mary has given him a case. A task to help him focus his mind - give his brain something to do, because without it his "brain rots."

Mary did not make a posthumous video on a whim. As others have pointed out, she made this after Moriarty's dramatic 'Miss Me?' announcement and I suspect just before she left on her pilgrimage regarding the resurfacing of AGRA. The opening and prevailing theme to The Six Thatchers was An Appointment In Summara...all signs pointed to 'someone is gonna die.' Is it that surprising that Mary, given everything that's been shown, would ever truly feel free & comfortable living a 'normal' life? Yes, she wanted it and while it lasted they were the best years of her life, but she also knew and accepted the shadows that lurk in her background. You simply cannot live the life Mary has and be oblivious to its on-going dangers. What we wanted for her, and the momentum gained from the life she led, might be diametrically opposed, but her death was not a plot device. It was the consequence of living; the life she lived. Just like her conical character from the books, the modernized Mary is dead. There's no playing opossum here. But, BBC Sherlock is never without surprises and it wouldn't be out of place to see her show up in flashbacks.

We see what we want to see in these characters, in spite of how layered and flawed, & sometimes even deviant they are. We become attached, cheer them on, wanting them to prevail no matter the circumstances. But, I've come to trust that these characters know themselves better than I do and, as in real life, I must allow others to make their own choices...good, bad, indifferent & downright tragic. I don't believe Mary wanted to die - at all - but understood that her meeting in Summara was always a prevailing possibility and, should the time come, would accept her fate. Mary made a selfless move by placing herself before Sherlock and taking a bullet. For her, that split second decision was a redemptive act, regardless that she ignored the consequences: "Did I ever say I'm sorry for shooting you that time...I'm really sorry. I think we're even now, okay?" Even in her dying moments Mary wanted Sherlock to know her previous act of betrayal, no matter how she justified her actions, never strayed far from her thoughts. In her mind - she owed him.

Since season 3, episode 2 - The Sign of Three - the audience has been led to focus on Sherlock's vow to always protect John, Mary and their baby. Until The Six Thatchers we didn't notice that Mary had made a quiet, albeit private, vow to herself to do the same for Sherlock, John and Rosie. She said this much in her parting letter to move danger away from the three of them: "I'm not running, my darling. I will return. I just don't want you and Sherlock hanging on my gun arm." She was not going to stand by and watch Sherlock get shot twice - not on her watch. Either way, the end result sucked for everyone. This event, Mary's death, in my opinion, is the catalyst for Sherlock and John to become the more mature characters known from canon.

Whether it's obvious or not, Mary made this band of high functioning, danger seeking misfits a family. She brought them together not just out of circumstantial need; Sherlock did that well enough on his own. Mary brought them together emotionally & sentimentally, along with giving them purpose to forge a bond that would not ever be easily broken. Yes, the 'family' is currently experiencing a 'fall out' - but it's temporary. They're grieving and blaming (John and possibly even Sherlock blaming himself) and it'll all get sorted out. They each have a key role to play in the others healing process. Space and distance, while not always desired or comfortable, does have its rewards.

Mary chose Molly and Mrs. Hudson as godmothers. Effectively making them surrogate aunt and grandmother. Now, in Mary's passing, those roles will take on even greater importance and need, possibly leaving Molly to fulfill a 'mother-like' role. Mary also knew John would choose Sherlock as godfather - a role he would not refuse or take lightly. They are forever bound by baby Rosamund - a commitment that none of them will shirk. Side note: As a fleeting HC, I've wondered if Molly won't end up raising Rosie? I can think of numerous scenarios on why and how this might come about, although the details are best saved for another discussion.

As with all Sherlock episodes, new questions rise faster than snark regarding the U.S. presidential election. Still, The Six Thatchers provided loads of answers. James Moriarty is dead. His posthumous recording was made before he took his life on Bart's rooftop. Oh yeah, there's a game in play but we get to bide our time right along with Sherlock.

Sherlock's off the hook regarding Magnussen! No need for any official pardon. That detail was neatly managed. I'm probably one of the few people who think he never should have been charged in the first place, but that's a different meta.

Sherlock likes dogs. And babies - even if they do see the world as a mystery. And he's calling baby Rosie, 'Watson.' How freaking cute is that?!? I've rewound that scene a few times it's. so. darn. adorbs.

Knowing and understanding their personalities and propensity toward boredom, along with a heightened need for danger (and assassination), Sherlock also kept Mr. and Mrs. Watson busy.

Now, this might seem surprising but, to me, it's clear as day that both Sherlock and Mary knew John was teetering on the brink of an affair. They may have reached this conclusion from different perspectives, but both were giving him space to figure it out, process what he was going through, and choose. John was not happy, no matter what we wanted to see and is catching hell-fire and damnation for this, which is too bad. From my perspective, that is. I'm not his moral arbiter and I really can't imagine what it's like standing in his shoes; especially having gone through three years of tragic & intense experiences...most of which he had no say or control over. There's really no need to make a case for all of that is there? Other than to say life with Mary would never be normal, no matter what it looks like on the outside.

Nevertheless, after the birth of their baby, things are beginning to stabilize. But. Not. Really. It doesn't take long before John is back on cases with Sherlock, sometimes usurped by Mary and even one jaunt with little Rosamund. Aspects of John's life that were inherently his, prior to meeting and marrying Mary, are now shared experiences. By temperament and savvy, Sherlock and Mary are well suited for each other when it comes to cases, at times leaving John holding the short end of the stick, along with the rest of us trying to catch up. This isn't to rail against Sherlock or Mary - just presenting what's been shown. John definitely feels sidelined, which was obvious from the balloon head in his chair, even if it did provide comic relief. Of course this isn't the first time John's absence has gone unnoticed by Sherlock...although things are very different now. I think the weight of John's life is sinking in deeper and deeper. Nothing's wrong with that, except the inner conflict he's feeling. Choices made from conflict, or lack of awareness, can sometimes be dubious, as seems to be the case here.

So, along comes a sweet, young Irish Scottish redhead, flirting with John on the bus. I bet the attention felt good. And, why shouldn't it? Who wouldn't like being noticed, especially when you're not feeling very noticeable. John was flattered, but didn't think much of it - although he should have! At least that's what I thought in my mind. Unlike many people, I wasn't concerned with the moral implications. I was thinking - "You're John Watson, you hang out with Sherlock Holmes and married to a former assassin. What the hell are you doing?! Almost nothing in your world is what it appears to be. Do not be taken in by flattery, John! You should seriously find this chick suspicious. Omg, you're not listening! No wonder Sherlock gets frustrated. Join a soccer league, or watch porno, if you feel unmanly, but don't trust the redhead. Ugh, look at that - she's sitting next to a picture of Culvertson (Toby Jones), next week's baddie. You should know from His Last Vow that this will bite you on the ass if you follow through. You will regret this. Trust me, you will. And, aren't you forgetting that your bff and wife will immediately know about this flirtatious dalliance? That's. what. they. do. They know things. Oh, for Christ's sake. Whatever, John."

Yeah, that's what I said to no avail. So, while everyone else is upset that John is acting like an asshat and betraying Mary, I'm wondering about the chick on the bus and who she really is. Mary is the least of my worries at this point. Since she's fully aware of what's going on, as is Sherlock, either one of them can stop that crap before it truly takes off. If they want. And don't think for a moment they're not capable.

Then there's Molly and Sherlock. They're officially a married couple. Okay, okay, only in my mind palace are they married...even though they sure act like it. I mean, just look at Molly - she owns Sherlock Holmes. The ease between them is delicious, even in their banter and with one word he'll obey her command. Mostly. Where Sherlock is concerned, that says a lot.

Molly redeems herself with John. This might seem like an odd thing, because we get very little Molly and even less about what goes on in her world. But, we can infer, can't we? For two years Molly lied to John about Sherlock's death. Not only did she lie, she participated with the plan and actively, if not fraudulently, carried out her part. She watched John grieve. She saw his pain and devastation. Molly, however, kept her word with Sherlock - knowing full well the difficulty and consequences. I see Molly as strong, capable and courageous, but she is not without heart or sympathy. I cannot imagine it was easy for her to watch John grieve, believing Sherlock dead. Whether or not redemption is necessary, I can further imagine there's a part of Molly that believe she's owes John - even if it's from an unconscious connection. And here lies the parallels between Molly and Mary. Mary believed she owed Sherlock and I don't believe it's a stretch to think the same about Molly toward John. Two women, totally different actions, but in the end they have to live with their conscience. There was absolute pain in Molly's face giving Sherlock the news that John would rather have anyone but him around. Anyone. But, she stood by John and bravely gave Sherlock the painful pronouncement, just as she once allowed John to believe the pain he felt was real. She will support John in his time of need. None of that means she's abandoned Sherlock, or cut him out of her life, but I bet she's treading very carefully in the early days of Mary's passing.

By golly, we got Sherrinford and know that the #13 is the code to be in touch! Who knows if it / he / she is a person, place, thing, or code name. We'll soon find out.

Mycroft knew all along that AGRA was a private, militarized contract team, specializing in extractions and assassinations.

Sherlock was present when baby Rosamund was born! I would love to have been a fly on the wall when all of that was taking place. Fic writers where are you?????

Redbeard and two little boys playing on a beach. One in a pirate hat. Sherlock's memories....

We got to see another one of Sherlock's boltholes. Kinda a cozy place, if you don't mind tree roots or Underworld Chic.

That's my initial thoughts, although there's so much more to glean from this episode, like tons of symbolism. What say all of you?

[bicrsacks-archived]

✩ Zianni (Bc I'm really trash?)

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? zacharie, honestly. Who threatens to leave but never actually does? neither of them; they’re too attached to do that. gianni is very calm and level-headed about this sort of stuff and zac doesn’t jsut give up on things.Who actually keeps their word and leaves? neither ok byeWho trashes the house? ... neither again.Do either of them get physical? nope, not at all.How often do they argue/disagree? very very rarely; gianni and zac have this silent harmony where things just fly under the radar or they deal with things calmly.Who is the first to apologise? if there ever is a real argument, gianni most definitely grows up and apologizes first.

Sex:

Who is on top? gianni, of course, hands down.Who is on the bottom? zacharie, his cute twink self is a power bottom. Who has the strangest desires? i honestly want to say that, for once, zac is well-matched in his strangeness with gianni.Any kinks? total power exchange, orgasm denial/control, begging, roughness in general (read: hair-pulling, bruising zac up a little)Who’s dominant in bed? gianni is, but he lets zac thinks he’s in control at first.Is head ever in the equation? of course it is.If so, who is better at performing it? lets be honest it’s probably very well-matched here. i feel like zac is just more likely to give gianni head than the other way around.Ever had sex in public? i’m sure they have at some pointWho moans the most? zac is a loud guy.Who leaves the most marks? hm, both. Who screams the loudest? zacharie.Who is the more experienced of the two? both are evenly matched in this respect.Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? both. gianni loves fucking zac rough just because he can’t get over how into it he is but there’s something so nice about making love to him tbh. like it’s both. depends on the mood.Rough or soft? i think they both have a serious inclination towards roughness. zac just deals with stress so often and having to order his employees around that there’s just a special thrill in letting go and getting manhandled a little.How long do they usually last? stamina is their middle nameIs protection used? no. a lot like zaise, they both got tested (bc lets be honest, theyre way more careful than zaise in general) and once they were in the clear, they just don’t bother with a condom.Does it ever get boring? lmfao noWhere is the strangest place they’d have sex? does Zac’s office count? i mean come on who pictures the big bad ceo of a company bent over his own desk moaning to get fucked?

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? eventually down the line, they choose to have a child.If so, how many children do your muses want/have? i can see them having 1 to 2. chanel definitely would surrogate for them for one or both children.Who is the favorite parent? i’m sure they both dote on their children equally and are both favoritesWho is the authoritative parent? for once i think both parents would be just as strict.Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? hm... neither.Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? neither, again.Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? both !!Who goes to parent teacher interviews? both!!!!!Who changes the diapers? bOTH!!!!!!!!Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? B O T HWho spends the most time with the children? both wtf Who packs their lunch boxes? zac, bc he loves food.Who gives their children ‘the talk’? ... gianni i’m sure.Who cleans up after the kids? both.Who worries the most? zac, tbh.Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? ZAC.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? zac, omg... my little cuddle beanWho is the little spoon? zac, can’t tell me otherwiseWho gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? zac, again. Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? i’d say zac but gianni is just so in love w zac that touching him is his favorite thing to doHow long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? im sure quite some time.Who gives the most kisses? gianni just absently kisses zac all over.What is their favourite non-sexual activity? snuggling ok zac needs the intimacy. and all gianni wants to do is scoop him up and take care of him.Where is their favourite place to cuddle? cuddled up in bed or on the couchWho is more likely to playfully grope the other? gianni tbhHow often do they get time to themselves? between their jobs i’m sure they’re so busy but they make that time actively for each other

Sleeping:

Who snores? gianni i’m sure snores a bitIf both do, who snores the loudest? gianni but he’s not terribly loud.Do they share a bed or sleep separately? share a bed ofcIf they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? cuddled up together, gianni loves holding him.Who talks in their sleep? neither.What do they wear to bed? both are either naked or just in their boxersAre either of your muses insomniacs? zac is a bit of an insomniac bc he doesn’t really... sleep muchCan sleeping pills be found by the bedside? zac stays away from pills of all sorts really.Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? wrapped up in each other totallyWho wakes up with bed hair? gianni, i’m sureWho wakes up first? zacharie alwaysWho prepares breakfast in bed for the other? zac, okay !!! just surprise his man with breakfast in bedWhat is their favourite sleeping position? spooning or with zac halfway on top of himWho hogs the sheets? neither.Do they set an alarm each night? yes they both do tbhCan a television be found in their bedroom? yes zac has a huge flat screen.Who has nightmares? i’m not entirely sure tbh? both?Who has ridiculous dreams? neither.Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? neither they’re always tucked up and curled into each otherWho makes the bed? zac, i’m sure. gianni if zac has to leave early What time is bed time? depends on how busy they are im sureAny routines/rituals before bed? nah unless you count rough sex to tire zac outWho’s the grumpiest when they wake up? zac is a grump

Work:

Who is the busiest? both are very busy but I’ll go and say Zac is a bit more soWho rakes in the highest income? Zac, by muggle standards. Gianni comes from a very well-off magical family, and he works a very high-paying job in the Ministry.Are any of your muses unemployed? Nope!Who takes the most sick days? Neither, they’re both serious workers.Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Neither I’m sure... unless they get distractedWho sucks up to their boss? Neither. What are their jobs? Gianni works for the British Ministry of Magic while Zac is a CEOWho stresses the most? zac is a bit more stressed by natureDo your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? gianni is honestly neutral about his job, but zac loves what he doesAre your muses financially stable? yes ofc.

Home:

Who does the washing? bothWho takes out the trash? bothWho does the ironing? bothWho does the cooking? zacharie ofcWho is more likely to burn the house down just trying? im sure gianni just because he doesn’t understand muggle kitchens; poor guy can’t figure out how the stove or microwaves work.Who is messier? neitherWho leaves the toilet roll empty? neither, manWho leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? neither !!Who forgets to flush the toilet? NEITHERWho is the prankster around the house? zac is slightly less serious but i wouldn’t say he’s goofy enough to prankWho loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? neither, man these two are like the most stable, calm, and stoic couple you’ll meet.Who mows the lawn? zac’s house keeping employeesWho answers the telephone? zac, gianni still has a hard time with technology.Who does the vacuuming? zac, read above. vacuum cleaners give gianni a heart attackWho does the groceries? both!Who takes the longest to shower? both [eye emoji]Who spends the most time in the bathroom? zac because grooming

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? not at all honestlyHow many cars do they own? zac has a billion cars, gianni has none because e doesn’t drive.Do they own their home or do they rent? yes they do indeed own it, they moved into a new mansion together.Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? not necessarily countryside but not the coast eitherDo they live in the city or in the country? close to the city.Do they enjoy their surroundings? yes! gianni likes it secluded but its close enough to the city for zac.What’s their song? i haven’t decide dyet come back in 3 business daysWhat do they do when they’re away from each other? gianni goes through the trouble of texting to talk to zac because he misses him. but they keep to themselves,. busy themselves with work until they’re together againWhere did they first meet? through chanel at durmstrangHow did they first meet? they just met through chanel as she grew up with gianni and just introduced the two. zianni were jsut fwb at first but then that became more after they graduated and reconnectedWho spends the most money when out shopping? i want to say it’s zacWho’s more likely to flash their assets? zac.Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? ... neither i would thinkAny mental issues? zac has a lot of internalized issues about being abandoned and whatnot.Who’s terrified of bugs? neitherWho kills the spiders around the house? bothTheir favourite place? just being in bed because they’re lowkey introvertsWho pays the bills? both together but lbh most of the muggle money comes from zac.Do they have any fears for their future? not really i wouldn’t say soWho’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? both are i’m sure; gianni is a very traditional gentleman like thatWho uses up all of the hot water? both.Who’s the tallest? they’re the same height.Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? gianni joins zac alwaysWho wanders around in their underwear? zac, more than likely.Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? neither kjdfngjkngWhat do they tease each other about? gianni constantly teases zac for being a delicate little thing that bruises easily.Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? .. neither i’m sure. gianni is very understated and subtle, dressing in neutral colors and that complements zac’s all black wardrobeDo they have mutual friends? chanel and blaise, yes!Who crushed first? hm, i think gianni just a little more than zac just bc zac was in denialAny alcohol or substance related problems? zac has an alcohol problemWho is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? zacWho swears the most? zac again

[delightfulnerdinfluencer-blog]

Misunderstanding Chapter 4 A Mystic Messenger Fanfic

A week later…

“Why does Philosophy have to be so boring!” Yoosung cried. The heel of his hands pressed into his eyes. “I was barely able to stay awake!”

Yeoja laughed at her friend as they walked. She was not going to remind him that he was the one that stayed up the night before playing LOLOL with Saeyoung and Saeran. The reason he gave that he was up so long was, he got beat pretty hard by the twins in the game, repeatedly. Thinking that one more match and he would beat them. She had heard all about it on the drive to school that morning. How they must have hacked the system or something. That there was no way they could be that good. She was also pretty sure she would hear all about it when she got home.

“Oh, what are you going to do now?” Yoosung sprung out of his whining fast to ask the question. As if he remembered something.

  “Um, going home. You have that three-hour lab. So, I was just going to leave like I normally do.”

“So, um, there is this new café that opened up near the school. After my lab wanna go? I heard that they have really good sweets!” He looked more like a puppy waiting for his treat. This made Yeoja laugh again, her hand came to cover her mouth.

“Were you not the person the other day complaining that they had no money? Now you want to take your best friend’s girl out to a café?” This made Yoosung laugh as well.

“You’re my best friend too! Well, you’re more like my older sister.” A faint blush dusted his cheeks, “My mom sent me a little extra money to take ‘that someone special’ out… well since I still don’t have a girlfriend. You’re the next best thing!”

“I’m honored to be a surrogate ‘special someone’. Yeah, I’ll hang around school until you get out.” Yeoja wrapped her arms around one of Yoosung’s and nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. “Who knows your special someone might be around the corner!”

As they rounded the corner to an empty hall Yoosung’s shoulders sunk. Yeoja nuzzled his shoulder again trying to make him feel a bit better.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of Saeyoung rubbed off on you.”

“Well… I would go into detail, but good little boys should hear about the birds and the bees from their parents.” Yeoja stood upright and act as much of a teacher as she could while holding back laughing at her beet red friend beside her.

They reached his next classroom and parted ways. He promised that he would text her as soon as he got out. Yeoja smiled before turning to walk outside.

It was warm. The sun was bright in the sky, even though it still hung low in the midday. Yeoja hummed as she made her way to the smoking pit on school grounds. Even though she had stopped smoking completely the day she found out she was pregnant. It was still the most peaceful place in school. She did not want to waste the warm day by being inside the library.

The trees had started to bud with new life. Birds singing the triumphant return of the warm weather to come. The was a light cool breeze but it felt amazing from the bitter cold that was there a few days prior. Nothing remained of the snow storm that had just happened. The snow had melted and in its wake, was left muddy patches on the ground. As if it was all just a dream. Yeoja pulled out her phone to send a text. From: Yeoja To: Saeyoung     Hey going to stay late. Yoosung and I are going to this new café down the road from the school after his last class. I will see you later than normal. With that she sent it. It was most likely Saeyoung was still sleeping. The beep of getting a text message told her otherwise. From Saeyoung To Yeoja     Oh, so you’re leaving me for someone even younger! Fine! T0T She could see the overdramatic flair this man was doing as she read the text. An arm over his eyes as he sunk to the ground. His voice loud as faked tears rolled down his face. As he reached the ground he would place his head down. With a fisted hand, he would beat the ground below at the indignity of his cruel fate. Wailing loudly as he cursed the cat gods above. From Yeoja To Saeyoung     Can I make it up to you by bringing you something from there? ^^;; The respond was quick. From Saeyoung To Yeoja         Yes ❤

She giggled as she put away her phone and walked.

The smoking pit was like a small park. It had benches along the wall of the adjacent building. Trash cans that doubled as ash trays in-between them. The small grassy area that in closed the bricked ground was squishy but the buds of flowers were starting to peek through the pine needles. There were two paths leading to the area and out to the two closest buildings. Thankfully no one was there. Knowing that if someone was there she would not have been able to stay. She loved this little area. It was far off from the campus route that unless you were a smoker, no one had a reason to come.

She had picked up smoking in her first year of college. Her dead-end job barely paid her enough to eat and live off of. It was not like her parents could send her money every month to help her out. They barely made enough to live their self, she could not have asked them to send her help. Yeoja was on her own when she moved and she knew it. Picking up the habit after she learned that it kept hunger away, and it worked. For the last few years before meeting the RFA she lived off instant noodles and cigarettes. She tried not to smoke around her new friends, feeling shame that she let them down. Zen was the first to find out. Even though he did not approve he promised he would help her. Like a good big brother would, in his words. When Saeyoung found out, she felt as if her relationship with him was about to end. It was her biggest secret she kept from him. Saeyoung hated that she smoked and she promised that she would quit. she was almost there when she found out. Giving her last unopen pack to Zen. Promising that she would never go back.

Yeoja found a spot in the sun and sat down. The rays warmed her after being stuck in a cold classroom for the last hour and a half. It took her a moment of enjoying the day before she dug out a textbook. Flipping through the pages to find where they were. A voice stopped her.

“You done or do I need to give you another minute?” This made Yeoja look up to who spoke. Knowing who it was before she saw the figure standing at the entrance of the pit. It was her advisor, Dr. Park. A tall, thin woman in her mid-fifties. Dr. Park wore a bright purple shirt and jeans with a light jacket. Her wild salt and pepper hair pulled back in a hair band to keep the untamed curls out of her face.

“No, actually I quit. I still like it here though.” This statement made her advisor’s eyes go wide with delight. The older woman cheered as Yeoja stood and walked to her. Pulling Yeoja in a big hug.

“I knew you could do it!” No one outside of her parents and the RFA knew she was pregnant. She knew the risk of miscarriage at her age. So, she had not planned to tell anyone until she was further along. “So, then, what may I ask are you doing right now? Do you have a minute? I have someone you have to meet.”

“I got a few hours until Yoosung gets out of his class.” Yeoja went back to get her things.

“Good, good.” Dr. Park nodded. “Come with me. Remember we were talking about who would be on your advisory committee? I know we have a few years to worry about your doctoral advisory committee, but I was talking about you to a friend of mine. She said that she would be interested in helping with your Master’s Thesis. I hope you don’t mind I did use your married name when telling her about you.”

“No, you’re good. It’s not but two weeks away now so I got to get used to it at some time. Besides, our friends already do.” Yeoja said adjusting her bookbag as they walked.

“Now, I will tell you a little about her. Her major was law but she also majored in psychology in her undergrad. She was a lawyer for a few years and a good one at that. She actually has daughters your age.” Dr. Park rambled on. Yeoja was just excited to start forming the idea of her master’s thesis. She had ideas passing through her head. Her steps were near skips as they walked to the social sciences hall. If she had access to a former lawyer, then she could cover some legal aspects that might come up in her project. “I have been meaning to ask, Yeoja. Was that Zen in your video project?”

Yeoja stopped a few feet ahead of Dr. Park and looked back at the woman. “Oh, you know Zen?” the question was met with a look as if Yeoja should have known the answer. “Yeah, that was Zen. He’s one of my best friends. Sorry I keep forgetting that he’s kinda well known.”

This got a laugh out of the older woman as she walked up to stand with Yeoja. It was easy to forget who some of her friends were. When they were together they weren’t a director of one of the largest companies in the country, an actor, an assistant, hackers, or gaming addict. They were all normal people inside the chat and when they met in person. They had their flaws and their strengths. Joking and sharing stories about what they were doing at the time. Yeoja kept most of her RFA life apart from her school life. None of her school friends knew about knew who she hung out with the outside of school, aside from Yoosung. On the other hand, everyone in the RFA knew everything about her school life. She trusted them more than anyone else in her life. They were just normal people who she loved. They were her family.

Yeoja pulled out her phone and started to flip through her pictures to find the most recent selfie of her and Zen together. He had helped her with the project since Saeran and Saeyoung were busy with work and she did not want to bother them. He was more than happy to help; writing out most of the script they used since she had no idea know to make the mock session last for over ten minutes. Even pulling most likely the best performances of his career for a school project.

“I’m a big fan of his!” This was a squeal of a fangirl and not a professor of psychology.

“I’ll tell him you were happy with his performance.” Yeoja beamed, then showed the selfie of herself and Zen to her teacher. The way her teacher went on about his acting, Yeoja was not going to bring up that she has been in his house. Or that the hoodie she was wearing was originally his.

Starting back on their trip to the hall, Yeoja had to tell Dr. Park how they met. Or what she had told people about why she went missing for two weeks. Lying that she needed a few days off for her “mental health” that lead to her having a family emergency. So, she had to leave for a bit to take care of her family. In this time, she had met Zen, Jumin, the Choi twins, Jaehee. Yoosung was the easiest to lie about since they attended the same school. As it turned out having a class together before they met. She had never noticed him. The others were harder to tell how they met. In time, she came up with a believable enough story. That through Yoosung she met the rest. The Choi’s are his best friend. While Zen and Jumin were close personal friends of his family. Since Jaehee worked for Jumin, she was a tag along. For some reason, this story worked. Then again how they really met might have sounded more of a lie than the story she told.

“I guess I can’t be surprised anymore with who you know. I mean if Mr. Han is personally funding your education then I guess it’s easy to think that you would know an actor or two.” Dr. Park stated as they walked up the granite stairs to the red brick building with white letters the name of the person who gave to most money to the school for the building.

Jumin somehow found out about her lack of money and school funding. Even though Saeyoung played innocent she was sure it was him. Unlike Yoosung who had a scholarship that paid more than enough to go to school, get his books, and live off of. Yeoja had to take massive student loans out. Jumin offered her a deal when she came back from her trip to get Saeran. Keep her grades up and he would pay off the loans she already had and pay for the rest of her schooling as long as she needed. Even paying her a little each month to live on, saying that was her payment for the work she did within the RFA.

Entering the building they were greeting by two boards up for college updates and another one for student news that students posted their self at the entrance. To the right side was the student lounge complete with vending machines, a couch, TV, and a couple of tables. To the left were the stairs and elevator. The halls were deserted. With the muffled sounds of the various lectors going on behind the closed doors. Everything from Psychology to History was housed in here.

The pair took the stairs. The bright blue and a gold that glittered in the sun of the school’s colors welcomed them. The click of heels and shuffle of sneakers echoed off the walls as they made the hike up the next two floors. They went in silence only letting their footsteps speak for them. Bright sunlight poured in through the windows, warming the stairwell. When they reached the floor, the two made a sharp turn into a back hallway where the professor’s offices were hidden. As they passed an open door a deep male voice rang out.

“Dr. Park got Yeoja for smoking again!” He teased. They stopped and Yeoja walked back to his door and looked inside. A large smile beamed from him. “Such a bad student you are, Yeoja. I mean really” sarcasm dripped from each word he spoke.

Yeoja grabbed her heart and acted as if she was wounded, “Oh, yes, I am truly the worst of them all.”

With a shared laugh, she waved at the teacher and started back with Dr. Park. The rest of the way was short. They stopped at a door with Dr. Park’s name on it. The older woman opened the door and let Yeoja enter first.

“I would like you to meet my friend, Chaeha Chon.” Yeoja stopped as the second older woman stood. 

“You’re the Prime Minister’s wife!” Yeoja gasped then quickly bowed to the woman. Her heart thundered in her chest. She was the one that said she would help? No way she could be this lucky. This had to be a crazy dream. No one was this lucky.

Chaeha was about Yeoja’s height at 5’4”. Short cropped black hair framed the older woman’s thin face. She looked as if she had just stepped off of a runway. Dressed in a white pantsuit with a black blouse underneath. Nothing out of place. There was no stray hair or piece of lint on this woman.

“Nice to see you again Mrs. Choi.” Chaeha smiled to the young woman extending a hand to her. Yeoja took a step in a jerking movement to take Chaeha’s hand.

“Oh? You two have met?” Dr. Park looked between the two, puzzled.

“Yes, briefly, when I went to lunch with Chairman Han. She was there with Mr. Han.” Chaeha gave a thin smile to her friend, as she sat back down. The older woman then turned her attention to the younger woman in front of her. Deep chocolate eyes studied the student before her.

“Yeah, I had to talk to him about my grades.” The words had come out quick as Yeoja lied. Praying that Chaeha would not say anything about the RFA. How would she explain that to her teacher?

The two older women talked about little things in hopes to make Yeoja feel more comfortable. In time, Yeoja began to enter the conversation. Stuttering her words at first then becoming more comfortable in her speech. Still, every time Chaeha’s gaze went to her, Yeoja had to look away. Finding many of the little figures and posters that lined the walls of the room very interesting. There was something in her stare that made her feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was just her nerves acting up on her. This woman had been a politician’s wife for many years. She was powerful. Having to hold her own for many years. Maybe this is what made her feel unease towards the woman. This could have been seen nothing more as a job interview.

“So, next semester you will be working for your master’s degree?” Chaeha questioned. Sitting forward in her chair. Elbows coming to rest on her knees. Yeoja shifted again under the watch of the older woman.

“Um, Yeah,” Yeoja mumbled. Taking a deep breath to calm herself. She had to make sure the next words she spoke came in clear. “I mean I am taking next semester off. I will be back in January.” She went to stand straight. Even if she was feeling flustered at that moment, she could not show it.

Another thin smile came to the prime minister’s wife as she sat back in her chair. “Do you have an idea about what you want to do? With your project that is?”

“I had an outline but now that I know you’re willing to help me then I might need to change it. Maybe something with political implications. Still in Psychology that is.” The more Yeoja spoke the more comfortable she felt. Becoming braver with each word that came from her mouth. “My interest is in art therapy, but I do not think my paper has to just focus just in that. Maybe the psychological and political impact of single mothers or something in the family.”

Chaeha laugh ranged loudly, “I see what you meant by this girl will try and change the world.”

Yeoja rocked back on her heels, a large grin on her lips. She was happy with how the prime minister’s wife reacted to her. It seemed as if Dr. Park was happy as well.

“Well, we are about to go eat. You should join us, I’ll pay.” Yeoja looked at her advisor when she clapped her hands. “I mean I might be bragging here to try and get more funding. But Yeoja is one of my best students.”

“I’m sorry.” Yeoja joked back. Then looking at her phone. It had only been 20 minutes since she left Yoosung. She still had time and no college student in their right mind would ever pass up free food. Free food and the chance to pick the brain of a former lawyer. “I have a little time. Yoosung won’t get out for like another two hours.”

A cat like grin went over Chaeha’s lips. “Oh, Yoosung is your husband, right?”

“He’s like my little brother. My husband’s name is Saeyoung, Saeyoung Choi.” Yeoja laughed at what Yoosung would have looked like being called her husband. How the blonde’s face would have red. Stumbling over each word as he tried to clear his name. The genius redhead would blow a circuit laughing at his friend.

“Does your husband know you hang around other men?” Chaeha teased.

“I would hope so since Yoosung is like family to him as well. My other guy friends, we also count as our family. One big dysfunctional family.” This was true. They were their family. “Oh, I need to go to my car to drop off my stuff. I’ll be back.”

Before Yeoja reached the door, Dr. Park caught her, “No, I can drive you there.”

“But, um…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Chaeha.

“Are you worried about what she’ll think of you if she sees your car? Sweetie, we both were college students. We know it’s almost mandatory to drive a shitty car.” *_*_* Saeyoung typed away, only to pull away for a chip or a drink. He was reviewing the logs that he had hacked from his father. Call log, internet searches, documents, anything that would give Saeyoung an idea about what the Prime Minister was doing. In the week since the meeting, he had done this every day. Still, the man did nothing to even look for the Choi’s. Saeyoung had wracked his brain in ways that he could think of that Chon might try. Nothing. He had not tried to contact either of the twins. He was keeping his word. Hell, the man did not even look up porn on any of his devices.

Placing his head in his hands Saeyoung let out an annoyed groan. As he looked back at the computer screen he noticed something for the next day. He would be talking to a group of new hires. Maybe doing a bit of recon would give him more data.

“Hey,” Saeyoung waited until he heard Saeran grunt to let him know to start speaking again, “So how would you feel if I said I was going to be a new hire under the prime minister?”

“I would say that you’re fucking stupid. Did you get that earpiece fixed?” Saeran was getting just as frustrated with dealing with the Prime Minister as Saeyoung was. Unlike Saeyoung, Saeran could drop the subject and move on with life. If he was leaving them alone then he would do the same thing. Saeyoung just could not leave it alone. Within the past couple of days checking his location on his cell. Checking every day what the man did. Saeran knew his brother’s reason, to keep everyone safe.

“I fixed it so you can hear me.” Saeyoung turned in his chair to face his younger brother. He turned back to the screen and began to hack the server again to put his information down.

Name: Luciel Choi Age: 23 Gender:

Saeyoung stopped as he thought about the last question. He could go as a woman. Luciel could be a woman’s name or a man’s name. That’s was one of the reasoning he liked it.

“Yeoja doesn’t like it when you dress as a woman.” Saeran’s voice in his ear made him jump.

As if on cue the computer beeped to let them know that she had entered the gate. It was a short time later that she walked in the door. The hackers greeted her as she entered the kitchen.

“Babe, so dress or suit?” Saeyoung purred in Yeoja’s ear.

“If you do not get away now I will throw up on you. You reek.” An arm braced her on the counter while the other was around her middle. Saeyoung stepped behind his brother. “If we are talking about the wedding then suit. Any other time I don’t care. If that’s all I’m going to bed.”

“Saeran said that you didn’t like it when I wore a dress.”

“I don’t like you having nicer legs than me. There is a big difference.” She said as she left the room.

Saeran looked at Saeyoung as they went back to the computer room, “I thought it was called morning sickness because it only happened in the morning.”

That earned a laugh from Yeoja from down the hallway, “It’s the biggest lie ever. Morning sickness will hit whenever it damn well pleases.” She shouted.

Saeyoung went back to the file.

Gender:

It was still blank. He only had his female wigs in red. If he wore a skirt and button down he would be a mirror image of the legal twin. With a sigh, he put that he was male. Then filled out the rest. Brown hair and eyes. Saeyoung groaned at the idea of another day with contacts in. The wig was bearable, enjoyable sometimes. For some reason his eyes hated contacts. With a few more details he placed his file with the rest of the new hires.

Saeyoung went to check on Yeoja. Entering the room the lava lamp gave a low glow that let the glow in the dark stars still work. Yeoja was in the middle of the bed with the blankets wrapped around her.

“Change or you’re not getting near me.” This earned a chuckle from the hacker. He complied with her demand before slipping in behind her under the blankets. He loved how she fit just right in his arms and against his body.

“My poor baby. What’s wrong.” He kissed the back of her head.

“Your children do not like me eating. Also, they must have been cold because they lit my heart up. I have some epic heartburn.” Saeyoung quickly rolled over and grabbed his phone. She just shook her head as the messenger beeped. It took her a moment before she reached her phone to find out what her favorite hacker was giggling like a school girl about. Saeyoung: I

Saeyoung: have

Saeyoung: breaking

Saeyoung: news

Saeyoung: ((((DRUMROLL))

Zen: Quit spamming!!

Saeyoung: We

Saeyoung: are

Saeyoung: having

Saeyoung: girls

Saeyoung: !!!!!!!!!!

Saeyoung then flooded the chat with his love emoji.

Yeoja has entered the chat

Zen: I said quit it damn it

Zen: Do you know what he is talking about?

Yeoja: Yeah, I just told him I had heartburn and he got on here.

Zen: Saeyoung I don’t think that’s how it works!

Saeyoung posted a picture of the last ultrasound.

Saeyoung: Aren’t my girls beautiful?

Saeyoung: I would like to introduce the RFA to my girls

Saeyoung: Porsche and Elizabeth

Zen: No!!

Yeoja: Not Porsche

Yeoja: Elizabeth is fine though

Saeyoung: Their first language they’re going to learn is binary

Zen: No!

Yeoja: Hell no!

Jaehee has entered the chat

Zen: As those two godfather I will not stand for you to do that to them

Zen: They will learn Korean first

Jaehee: Since when did you become their Godfather, Zen?

Zen: … well

Zen: I was never asked…

Zen: But I am!

Yeoja: Well, I was going to ask all of the RFA to be the Godparents to them. So he isn’t wrong.

Saeyoung: My pretty girls!!

Saeyoung: Curly red hair and gold eyes!

Jaehee: Saeyoung you can not tell the sex of your children by just her having heartburn.

Saeyoung: I read it online…

Yeoja has left the chat.

Zen: Is she okay?

Saeyoung looked over to see Yeoja putting away her phone quickly as she dashed out the room.

Saeyoung: She’s sick I should go take care of my girls!!

Saeyoung posted another picture of the ultrasound.

Saeyoung has left the chat It was a while before she returned. Just as she entered Yeoja turned around and ran back into the bathroom. He rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm. Saeyoung wished there was more he could do for her. Yeoja did not like the ginger tea he’d made to help and threw up the ginger ale. It was times like these he hated. There was nothing he could do to help. After the third attempt, Yeoja made it back to bed.

“Hey lay on your back.” She did as he asked.

Saeyoung moved to be close to her side. Then began to rub around the bump higher to her stomach then back to circle around the bump again. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as his hand made another go around her torso.

“I’m sorry baby.” Yeoja shook her head as he peppered the side of head and neck with kisses.

“No, thank you, I’m starting to feel better.” Saeyoung smiled as he kissed her hair.

“I’ll make it all better.”