#for some reason i couldn't handle a multi the one time i tried it

[bookuce]

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it. 

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 10K

PART TEN

PART ELEVEN

Meeting parents was never fun. It was nerve-wracking, stressful, anxiety-inducing––any word you can think of that falls under that category, really. The time was winding down quickly for Alina to meet Josh's family, and she was frantically moving around the bathroom. Her hair decided not to cooperate with her, forcing her to put it up in a tight ponytail. It wasn’t what she envisioned, but it will do. 

Josh sat on the tub's edge, scrolling on his phone while he waited for his girlfriend to finish getting dressed. Just like Alina, he was full of anxiety about his family. Their reasons were different, though. While she was worried about his family's approval, he was concerned with how they would take the news of him relocating. It had been an active plan for several weeks, but he couldn't figure out how to bring it to their attention––until now. They'll take it fine, he thinks. He hopes. 

When Jon told them he and Trinity were moving to Orlando, they didn't put up much of a fuss. Then again, the twins spent plenty of time around that area during their FCW days. There were plenty of family and friends around there that could help them in their times of need. Atlanta, on the other hand, not so much. That didn't matter, though. Josh is a grown-ass man. He can handle himself.

Alina leans over the sink, her face near the mirror. She's lining her lips with her favorite brown lip liner, making sure her lips look full and even. There was a slight tremble in her hand as she traced along the natural lining of her lips. Nerves. "Lina," Josh says, looking up from his phone. "we gotta go." He informs her. They were supposed to have left about thirty minutes ago, but she kept backpedaling on what she should wear.

"I know." She says, finishing her makeup. She glances around the mess of makeup on the counter, looking for her gloss. "I just want to make sure..." 

"Lina." He calls again.

"I look good." she finishes, snatching up the lipgloss tube from the pile of lipsticks. She unscrews the cap and quickly slathers the product across her lips. Josh stands to his feet, slowly approaching the stress-filled woman before him. She stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing out her shirt and allowing her hands to travel over the front of her pants. He wraps his hands around her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes would flicker to his dark ones, and they'd watch each other in the mirror. 

"You look good," He assures her. "Perfect, to be real." He corrects himself. Josh steps back, allowing his hands to skim her arms to her shoulders. He gives them three gentle squeezes before turning towards the bathroom door. "Let's go before you get me in trouble with my Mama." He informs her, making her turn around to look at him.

"Josh," She groans, nerves setting in for her again.

"Come on, honey." He says louder, ignoring her pleas. "We ain't got all night." She quickly follows after him, soft huffs of frustration leaving her lips. 

Was she ever this nervous about meeting Theo's parents? She tried to recall if she ever felt this amount of anxiety when she met them. Meeting them went relatively well. Then again, she knew enough information on them beforehand to prepare herself. Unfortunately, this was not the case with Josh. He didn't speak enough about them for her to learn who she was meeting, and because of that, she was terrified. Even when she would ask multiple times throughout the morning, he would answer shortly with little information. They're great people, he says. You have nothing to worry about, he tells her. 

Perhaps they were just like Jon and Josh: loud, goofy, and loving. Trinity never had any complaints, either. If she did, she never brought them to her attention. Then again, why would she? Alina and Josh were not in a relationship––their family issues were none of her business until now.

The drive to his parents' home was roughly thirty minutes. They made it two minutes before six, cutting close to dinner time. Alina stares up at the large house from the passenger seat. Her legs now felt like jelly, and she knew they wouldn't hold her up if she got out of this car. Was she being dramatic? Possibly. Whatever happens, tonight would set the tone for her relationship with him and his family forever. 

What if they don't like her? She's heard she can come off uppity at times, and she's been working on that. "Hey," Josh says, pulling her attention from the window. He searches her eyes for a moment before grabbing her hand. "They're going to love you; you know that, right?" He tells her. She watches him for a moment, a soft smile on her lips.

"Get out of my head." She whispers at him.

"You first." He replies. Josh presses a kiss to her hand before dropping it suddenly. "Now, come on, girl, I'm hungry. I ain’t had my Mama's cooking in months." He says, slapping the top of her left thigh. Alina would whine at the playful strike. He climbs out of the car, lightly jogging around to her side to open the door for her. She steps out of the vehicle, taking another deep breath as the realization of her meeting his parents settles in once more. She was now a couple of feet away from them, seconds away from saying, 'Hello, nice to meet you.'. There were multiple cars in the driveway, four Alina counted. 

They're going to love you, she tells herself. Just be yourself, and they'll love you. The passenger door closed behind her, and a warm hand slid into her own. Together, they approach the front door. Josh's left hand grabs the doorknob, twisting and pushing the door open. Warm white light and the aroma of food poured out of the opening. With one last glance at his girlfriend, Josh steps into the house. "Yo, yo, yo," Josh calls.

"Oh, I think that's Josh." A female voice says. "Joshua!" She calls, getting closer. 

"It's me," he replies. A small woman runs around the corner, her arms wide open for her son. Josh drops Alina's hand to fully embrace his mother, giving her the tightest hug possible. "Hey, Mama." He says against her shoulder. Alina takes a step back, clasping her hands tight in front of her while she waits for her turn to introduce herself. 

"My baby is home!" She exclaims, patting his back as she pulls back. Talisua instantly spots the eye injury, her hand going up to examine it. She knew not to question it. She would assume that her son was recovering from someone hitting him too hard in a match or segment Friday night. 

"Damn, she ain't say that to me," Jon says, walking by the hall. "She ain't even hug me." 

"That's because I'm her favorite." Josh jokes, earning a lip smack from his brother and a swat to the chest from his mother. Talisua turns her attention to Alina, glancing over the gorgeous woman standing behind her son. Alina gives a faint smile, unsure whether or not she should say hi or quietly wave. 

Josh notices that his mother has taken sight of Alina and looks over his right shoulder at her, a crooked smile on his lips. He reaches over to grab her hand, pulling her to his side. "Mama, this is my girlfriend, Alina," Josh says. 

Talisua's hands go to her hips as she takes in the woman standing behind her son. There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she peered down at her shoes and back up to her face. "So you're why I haven't seen my son in months?" She asks. The question was a playful opening, not to be mistaken as an attack. Alina glances over at Josh briefly before returning her gaze to Talisua.

"If I knew he hadn't been home, I would have sent him on his way," Alina replies, returning the smile she received. Both women turn their attention towards Josh, whose brows furrowed at the interaction. "He's been acting like he doesn't have his own house," Alina adds.

"He's always been clingy." His mother says, earning a laugh out of Alina. Josh would smack his lips at the two of them, watching as they talked about him. "He used to throw a fit when he couldn't be in my face." She tells her.

"Glad to know some things never change," Alina replies. Talisua links her arm with Alina's, pulling her away from Josh and down the hall to the dining room.

"Bruh, what?" Josh watches after the pair in confusion as they leave him in the foyer alone. He was happy his mother and girl clicked almost instantly––but like this? Oh, the deception.

"Go help the boys in the kitchen," Talisua calls out behind her. "You too, Jon!" She shouts towards the living room. Jon, whose feet were on the coffee table, a remote in hand, turns his attention towards his mom, catching a glimpse of her passing by the room. He'd suck his teeth at her command, shaking his head slightly as he stood to his feet. 

Josh steps into the living room's archway, his eyes finding those of his twin's. Jon rolls his shoulders back, tilting his head up at him. "Your drunk ass..." He says, laughing at his brother as he recalls last night's events. "Have I told you I loved you...!" He sings as he passes Josh, his cackles filling the house. "Boy, your freaky ass better not ever look at another tequila sunrise. You were trying to tear Lina up in the Uber home." He says, causing Josh to shove him forward into the dining room. 

Trinity, Talisua, and Alina peer over their shoulders at the commotion from the twins as they walk through the living room to the kitchen. "Y'all, don't start," Trinity exclaims.

"If you didn't know already, it takes a village to keep these Fatu men in check," Talisua says. Trinity sighs softly at the statement, shaking her head as she does so. "God thought I was well-equipped to handle all boys and make them like their daddy." Talisua looks over at Alina. "Do you have kids?" She asks.

Alina is quick to shake her head at the question. "Two younger brothers, though, so I do understand." She explains. She is the eldest of her siblings. Dealing with the antics of her brothers well-prepared her for this. "I don't pay them no mind anymore." She says, referring to Jon and Josh. 

In the kitchen, the Fatu men prepped dinner––er, somewhat. Sefa was seated at the kitchen island, quietly doom-scrolling on social media. Jeremiah was coming in from outside, a pan of meat in hand. Tonight's dinner was barbeque, something they tended to do often when their entire family was in the same house for once. It was a rare occurrence now that Sefa, Josh, and Jon were all on the road with the WWE. 

At the stove stood their father, Rikishi. He was checking on the mac and cheese, stirring so it wouldn't burn to the bottom of the pot. "Hey, Pops," Josh says, moving past his dad. He pats his back in passing, prompting his dad to look over his shoulder only briefly.

"Hey, son." He replies. "How are you?"

"Never better," Josh replies, leaning up against the counter. "What do you want me to do?" He asks, waiting for orders.

"Get out nine plates, silverware, and cups. Go set the table." He answers. Josh walks around his dad to the cabinets near the sink. He opens them, grabbing out eight plates. 

"Nine? Who else is coming?" Jon asks, prompting Josh to stop at the question. Who else was coming to dinner? Josh begins to count on his fingers everyone that is there right now. Yeah, he counted eight people. "Joe in town too and ain't tell no one?" Jon asks.

Rikishi is quiet for a little bit longer, turning off the stove. "I invited Málí." Josh slowly put his hands down, now watching the side of his father's head. 

"Málí, who?" He asks.

"You know, Málí. Tagaloa, Lílí?" 

"Lílí? She back in town?" Jon asks, glancing over at Josh. 

Málí Tagaloa was a name Josh hadn't heard in years, seventeen years to be exact. Málí and the Tagaloas were old family friends of the Fatus, neighbors in the first neighborhood they grew up in when they first moved to Pensacola. Málí and Josh had instantly clicked when they met as kids, attached at the hip from first grade through high school. Wherever Josh was, Málí was not far behind, and vice versa. People around them were confident they would end up together after high school. They were too––but things happened. Málí received a full-ride scholarship to her dream college, and any chances of them exploring the what-ifs and maybes of their almost relationship went up in smoke.

They lost contact when she went to college. Everything after that was history. Hearing that name after so many years, knowing he would be seeing an old friend any minute now while his girlfriend was in the other room, had scared Josh silent. 

"Yeah, she moved back home from Seattle last week. We ran into each other at the grocery store yesterday. I told her Josh was in town and asked if she wanted to come by for dinner tonight." Rikishi informs them. Josh turns to look at his twin brother. For once, Jon had nothing funny to say to his twin. They both had the same look of concern on their faces. "Perhaps the two of you can go out while you're here. You two always really liked each other––." Rikishi adds.

"That won't be happening," Josh says, shaking his head. 

"Why not?" Rikishi asks, turning to his son. "Good Samoan woman like that––." 

"My woman is in the other room," Josh explains. "You know that." Josh knew his mother updated his father about Alina yesterday. She was too excited about the potential of meeting someone Josh loved enough to bring home. Rikishi was doing what he knew best: how to insert himself in his sons' lives without their permission. Each time they caught on, he would pretend he had no clue what they were talking about––much like he is right now. 

Rikishi furrows his brows at the assumption; the thick black frame of his glasses lifts on his nose with the scrunch of it. "When did you get a girlfriend?" He asks. A look of irritation would flash across Josh’s face as he glanced at Jon briefly. 

"You so—." Josh stops himself from saying anything more, shaking his head. "Man, I can’t believe you’d try that with me." He lifts the plates he gathered from the counter. "You finna get me in trouble over some shit you said to this woman." He mutters angrily to himself as he exits the room. Rikishi turns to his other sons, his mouth agape in shock at Josh. Jon lifts his hands, shaking his head at the man. 

"No comment, bruh." He says, turning to make his way out of the kitchen behind his twin. Jon knew how his father got about them dating women. He had done the same thing to him and Trinity when they first got together. 

Josh's eyes focused on the dishware he held, not looking up once as he entered the dining room. "Josh, look who stopped by for dinner!" Oh, hell, he thought. He halts, his gaze lifting at the sight of the woman standing before him. 

Málí turns at the sound of Josh’s name, her smile faltering slightly at the sight of her old friend. Time has done them both well, but for her, Josh aged handsomely. Though his face had changed, his eyes had not. They seemed to hold the same youthfulness and innocence they had when they were younger. The grey in his beard accented his appearance perfectly, much like a garnish on a dish. She wouldn’t get into the rest of him, though––she had focused on his face and that blank stare he was giving her. After all these years, was he not happy to see her?

Málí had not aged a bit to Josh. She was like a blast from the past, a ghost of his younger days. From what he could tell, all those years away from Pensacola did the woman well. She surprisingly looks the same as she did when she left this place––not a single gray or wrinkle in sight. On the other hand, Josh showed signs of aging well with gray hairs and soft wrinkles. She looked great. That was all he would say on the subject of her. He had to remind himself that she was not brought here as his friend––but as a potential prospect for marriage by his father.

Jon stops behind him, his eyes wide at the sight of Málí. "Shit." He mutters to himself. Alina glances between the pair before her. Strange. "Lílí, what's up, girl!" Jon exclaims, trying to break up the noticeable tension in the room now. He moves by Josh, wrapping the old friend in a tight embrace. Behind Málí, Jon looked at Trinity, who silently asked about the woman her husband was hugging. He widened his eyes at her in response, hoping she'd understand what that meant. They’ll gossip about it like two old church ladies later.

"Long time no see, Jon! How have you been?" Málí asks, pulling back to look up at the tall man. He smiles down at her, his arms still loosely wrapped around her.

"I'm blessed, Uce. I can never complain." He turns the woman to face the two women seated at the dining table. Only one of them was paying attention to Jon and the woman. The other watched her boyfriend, who was paling by the second at the sight of the woman he had yet to take his eyes off. "Lílí, this is my wife Trinity. Trin, this is Lílí, an old family friend of ours." Trinity stands up––her hand extended to shake Lílí's. 

"Nice to meet you!" They exchange with each other with bright smiles.

Jon then turns to Alina, who is still watching Josh. "And this is Alina, Josh's girlfriend." Josh's gaze shifts from Málí's and to Alina at the introduction. They only watched each other briefly before Josh moved towards the table. He places the plates on the table, slowly putting them in their designated spots—Alina peers up at the woman, a forced smile on her lips. 

"Pleasure," Alina says with a nod. She doesn't offer her hand to the woman or stand to introduce herself. She turns her attention back to Josh, who now has his back to everyone.

"Joshua," Talisua calls out. Josh releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his eyes shut as he does so. Lord, give me the strength to get through this dinner. Forty minutes in, he was already ready to grab Alina and leave. He should do that anyway. He owed no one any explanation as to why he would head out, but if Josh had to, he would point fingers at the man who was in the room over. But for his mother, he will stay––no one else. Talisua hadn't seen him in a while, and Josh had yet to tell everyone his plans to move to Georgia. 

"Yes, ma'am?" Josh answers lowly.

"Are you not going to say hey to Málí?" She asks. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. He could feel Alina staring at the back of his head, waiting for him to make the wrong move. She is still trying to figure out who this woman is to him. Jon mentioned that she was an old family friend, but what was with the stares? Josh looked like he had seen a ghost, and Jon also was behaving strangely. 

He wasn't trying to be rude––he didn't want to do this. His eyes pan to the wall as he slowly pivots to face Málí. He avoids Alina's intense gaze, his eyes locking with Jon's before the woman standing by him. A lump began to form in his throat, and no matter how hard he swallowed, it wouldn't go away. "What's up, Málí?" He croaks, tilting his head up slightly. Josh would sway from left to right, his hands slowly rubbing at his hips. 

The two old friends stare at each other for several moments before Lílí finally speaks up. "Hey, Josh." She says softly. "It's been a while." She adds with a slight smile. 

“Yeah,” He says, lowering his head slightly. “How have you been?” He asks, clasping his hands together in front of him. Málí takes a breath, nodding her head at the question.

“I’ve been better.” She chuckles. “What about you? You look good––healthy. You look healthy.” She corrects herself. Alina turns her attention to Jon, her brows gradually furrowing as she does so. He’d catch her gaze before dropping his head in embarrassment. He lifts his right hand to rub at the back of his neck. This dinner was already gearing up to be a mess of a situation, and they had no one but Rikishi to blame.

"Food's ready!" Rikishi exclaims, walking in with a bowl of mac and cheese. Behind him are Sefa and Jeremiah, both carrying food. One by one, they line the center of the table with dishes. 

Thank God, Josh thought, thankful for the interruption. Any much longer of that conversation, and he would have dug himself a hole with Alina. 

Little does he know. 

He looks off towards the table before grabbing his seat next to Alina. He pulls it out, dropping into the chair. Alina turns in her chair to face forward, her hands clasped tight in her lap. "Lílí, I hope you brought your appetite." He says gleefully. "Take that seat next to Joshua." 

Rikishi doesn't acknowledge the woman sitting to Josh's left as he takes his seat at the head of the table. "Trin," Jon says, still standing behind Josh. He points at the chair near his brother for his wife to sit in. Rikishi looks to Jon, catching a glare from the eldest twin. Jon doesn't say anything to cause a disturbance but shakes his head in disappointment. Whatever his father had going on was not about to disrupt this dinner. With no questions asked, Trinity stands to her feet, moving to sit in the empty chair next to Josh. Jon takes his seat by Alina, separating Málí, Josh, and her.

Josh turns to his girlfriend, who is intently staring at the table. Alina was never good at hiding her emotions––giving herself away with facial expressions or tones of voice. At that moment, Alina felt conflicted. Was she angry or sad? She wasn’t sure, but she was holding in tears. 

Alina wasn't trying to read into what was happening here, but with how everyone was acting suddenly and how Josh was staring at this Málí person, Alina could only assume this woman was an ex. The seating arrangement, her boyfriend avoiding eye contact with her––context clues. It is only a matter of time before she's searching for an exit from this dinner. 

"Lina, can you pass me the salt?" Sefa asks, forcing Alina to look up from the table. She would give him a tight grin and nod, reaching in front of her for the salt. She lifts it into the air, allowing Sefa to take it from her. "Thanks." 

"Welcome," She says quietly, her eyes scanning the table. She could feel Josh's large brown eyes on her, pleading with her to look at him, but she couldn't. The interaction between Sefa and Alina would prompt Rikishi to finally acknowledge someone other than their other guest for the evening. He looks at the woman seated near his son––his lips slightly parted as he thinks of something to say. 

"So, you're Joshua's girlfriend," Rikishi says, earning the couple's attention. "What is your name, sweetheart?" He asks. Josh leans forward slightly, his head tilted down at his father. He has one time to disrespect her, he thought. One snide remark and this dinner was over.

"Alina." She answers with a grin. "It's nice to meet you, Rikishi." The slump of her shoulders would vanish as she sat up straight for the conversation.

A grin matching Alina's would curl onto his lips at her. "Likewise." He answers with a single nod. "Alright, everyone, dig in." He says, looking around the table. Alina would relax into her seat again, the light in her eyes dimming once more now that she was not being spoken to again. He had moved on from talking to her and was now conducting the food traffic. "Pass me the chicken, please." He says to Jeremiah. 

"So, Alina, you work with the boys and Trin?" Talisua asks from the opposite end of the table than Rikishi. Alina looks at her with a smile, nodding her head. 

"I do! Coming up on three years here soon." She informs her.

"We celebrating?" Jon asks, nudging Alina in her side. She looks back at Jon, shaking her head. He smacks his lips at her answer, muttering words of persuasion to her, hoping Alina would change her mind. She knew he didn't want to celebrate the milestone––He just wanted a reason to party.

"Do you wrestle?" Rikishi asks.

"No, sir, I'm on the broadcast team." She answers, getting only a singular hum from the man. He says nothing else, returning to the meal in front of him. Slowly, Alina's eyes began to shift back to her plate. Was she reading into this too much, or did it seem like Rikishi didn't like her? Perhaps she was reading into it too much and still reeling from the nerves of meeting Josh's family, but then again, she was always good at reading people. He was coming off cold and disinterested in her, the opposite of how you should be with your son’s new girlfriend.

Alina wasn’t the only one who noticed his behavior. Silence fell upon the dining room––glances exchanged between siblings. "So, Lílí, how's your parents?" He asks, seguing back into Málí. He seemed more interested in what Málí had going on rather than the fact his son finally brought home a woman––and Josh didn’t like that.

"Yo, are you good?" Josh asks suddenly.

"Josh," Alina says, shaking her head.

"Nah." He dismisses her. "You've said no more than ten words to her all night. You've known she was coming since yesterday." He says. Rikishi looks up at his son, his brows furrowed in faux confusion. 

"Josh," Jon says now. 

"You know what you're doing, bruh––." He says, ignoring his brother. He points his finger at his father.

"Joshua," Talisua calls out now. His mother's stern tone was enough to silence the angry twin. "It's enough." The room became silent again, but no one resumed eating. The tension in the room was enough to steal the appetites of everyone present. Alina clasps her hands in her lap, her eyes falling to her plate again. 

What a weekend, she thought. Was there a full moon, mercury in retrograde, or something? Was she cursed? Is that what this was? A curse? She attempts to think of who she could have wronged in the past, but no one comes to mind. Well, unless karma works quickly in Tasha's favor for her,––wait, that could be it. "I apologize, son," Rikishi says, throwing his hands up.

"You apologizing to the wrong person." He says. "We can try this,” He motions a circle with his index finger. “again in a minute." He informs him, cueing his apology.

"That's not necessary––," Alina says, shaking her head.

"Like hell, it ain't," Josh almost shouts.

Alina twists her mouth to the side, becoming quiet again. For the second time in a span of three days, she was at the center of a fight. “I said it’s enough, Joshua.” His Mother says. She looks between her husband and son. “Both of you.” She points her index finger between the two men. Josh turns his glare towards the table. 

“So what’s new?” Jon says, trying to break up the tension in the room. “Anyone got anything they want to share with the class?” He asks, glancing around the table with a big smile. “Sefa?” He asks. Sefa stifles a laugh at Jon, pushing his food around his plate. What was happening wasn’t funny, but it was.

Trinity reaches around Alina and Josh and strikes Jon’s shoulder, startling the twin. He leans back, making eye contact with his wife. “Not the time.” She whispers at him. 

Under these circumstances, in this mood that he was in, Josh did not want to announce his departure from the state of Florida, but because Rikishi was with the shit, right now was the perfect time to do so. Josh peers up from the table, taking in the faces surrounding him. Beneath the table, Josh’s hands rubbed against each other slowly, a self-soothing mechanism of his. “I’m selling my house.” He announces, gaining everyone’s attention at the table. 

“You’re moving?” Talisua asks. Josh nods slightly, licking his lips. “Where?” Alina gazed at the side of Josh’s head, waiting for his words. She wasn’t aware that his family didn’t know about the move. This conversation should’ve been a private family matter that didn’t involve her.

“Atlanta.” He answers.

“Atlanta? What’s in Atlanta?” Rikishi asks. Josh hangs his head at the question, pressing his lips together in a thin line. Here he goes, he thought. Rikishi points his hand at Alina. “Her?” He adds. A chill would rush Alina’s body at his tone. Oh, she never stood a chance with this man.

“Me for the last year,” Josh answers, looking up at his father. Rikishi wanted to hear Josh say Alina was the reason for his relocation, which she was, but Josh was not going to give him that. “I’ve been in Atlanta more than I have been here. That’s home now. All the back and forth adds up––.” 

“Let me get this straight. The two of you have lived together for a year, but this is the first time we’ve heard of this girl?” Rikishi questions. “Does anyone not find that a bit strange?” He continued, lifting his hands as he spoke. Rikishi looked around the table at everyone, not receiving a response or reaction from a soul. Alina didn’t expect Josh to talk about her to anyone while they were still friends.

“Look at how you’re acting, bruh. You’re doing my girl like you did Trin when she first came around. You did this up until they got married.” He points out. Trin and Jon would smack their lips simultaneously at being brought up in the argument. “You ought to be lucky they even let bygones be bygones with your––.”

“Enough!” Talisua shouts the moment Josh starts to raise his voice again. “Solofa, I don’t know what has gotten into you, but it stops now. It’s the first time we see our son in months, and he is happy. Why are you trying to take that joy from him?” She asks. It was a question that Rikishi knew not to answer unless he wanted to sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight. “And Joshua,” She calls, requesting his attention. Slowly, he looks up at her. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Josh knew he shouldn’t have said most of what he did or behaved how he did, but Rikishi crossed boundaries. The things he said were consequences of his father’s actions, and he could not bother to be sorry about it—at least to him, he couldn’t be. Only for Talisua, Josh was apologetic. She did not deserve to see them act like this, and how he acted was not how she raised him. “Sorry, mama.” He says quietly. She doesn’t answer him, her glare shifting from her son to her food. Josh looks away from her, his eyes finding his plate as well.

The room was quiet for the third time tonight, thanks to Rikishi and Josh. This dinner wasn’t supposed to go this way, but it did because Josh came strolling in with Alina. Rikishi would have been happy if Josh wouldn’t have brought her home. His plans of having his son’s long-lost best friend and almost lover come back into the fray instantly diminished because of this random girl his son brought home, whom he had no idea existed until yesterday. If Rikishi were happy, Josh would have been happy. If the two of them had been happy, Talisua would have been happy. All of this is because he brought Alina McLemore home. 

It was all her fault.

Alina was at the root of each issue, from Tasha and the wedding to this dinner. She spent the last twenty-four hours panicking about her boyfriend’s family’s approval and the prior twelve panicking about her appearance. All this meant so much to her, these last few days being the most important, only for her to be disliked and disregarded. 

Slowly, Alina stands to her feet, drawing attention to herself. “I’m sorry, excuse me.” She apologizes, stepping away from the table.

“Alina,” Josh calls, turning in his seat as she moves towards the dining room entryway. He turns in his seat to watch her walk, his eyes full of silent pleas for her not to be upset. It was only a matter of time before she went running, and Josh knew it was coming. The last few days hadn’t been kind to her, and just when she thought she was escaping it in Atlanta, issues seemed to have followed them here into his parents’ home in Pensacola. His plan had failed to take her mind off what happened this past weekend. 

“I’m just going to the bathroom. It’s fine.” She promises, vanishing down the hall before he can say anything else. Josh stares after her for a moment longer before turning his attention towards Jon. Their eyes locked with each other before the eldest twin started shaking his head at him.

“Just give her some space, Uce.” He tells Josh. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew Jon was right; Alina needed some space. He turns to face forward in his seat, a huff leaving his lips. This is some bullshit, he thought.

Alina enters the guest bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She moves over to the sink, placing her hands on the marble countertop. She leans her weight onto her arms, her eyes closing as she does so. “You’re not going to cry. You’re not going to cry.” She whispers, shaking her head at the sting that fills her eyes. “Think about your makeup.” She reminds herself, opening her eyes to look at herself in the mirror. “See, you look so pretty. You’re going to ruin that if you cry.” She says, encouraging herself with tears forming in her eyes. If only those words were helping.

A knock at the door disrupts her emotional mini-pep rally, causing her to go still at the sound. “Lina, you good, girl?” Trin says from the other side. “Josh sent me to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” She croaks, fighting against the lump forming in her throat. On the other side of the door, Trinity furrows her brows at the sound of her voice. Was she crying? It sounded like it. Trinity grabs the doorknob, attempting to twist it.

“Can I come in?” She asks.

“No,” She sniffs. “I’ll be out in a minute, I promise.” She tells her. “You can go back to dinner. Tell Josh I’m fine.” No sound would come from the other side of the door, but Alina knew Trinity was still there. “Please?” She pleads. 

“Okay.” She replies after several moments of silence. “Love you, girl.” She adds.

 Alina smiles at her words, a few tears escaping her eyes. “Love you too.” She replies. Yeah, she wasn’t going back out there––not like this. 

Trinity stepped away from the bathroom door, a sigh coming from her lips as she did so. She’d shake her head, bringing her index finger to her left temple. “Child…” She says to herself. Tonight was enough drama for the week for her––hell, maybe even for the month. Jon comes dashing around the corner, colliding with his wife. He was on his way to check on Alina because his brother was starting to get antsy. “Hey,” she breathes. 

Jon looks past her and down the hall towards the bathroom. “Y’all good?” He asks with a lifted eyebrow. “Where’s Lina?” He asks.

“She’s finishing up in the bathroom. She’s fine.” She says loud enough for Josh to hear in the other room. “Come here, though,” Trinity says, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the living room. Once in the room, she releases his arm, looking back to ensure no one is coming. “Who the fuck is that lady, and don’t lie to me.”

In all the years that she and Jon had been together, this Málí character has never been mentioned. “We grew up together,” Jon explains. “We lived next door to her family when we first moved here.” 

Jon planned to leave it at that, not wanting to explain the rest of the story. He pushes his hands into his pockets, looking beyond his short wife towards the hall. “And what else?” She asks, lowering her eyes at him. Her husband had a bad habit of avoiding eye contact when he was lying about something, a reason why he just chose not to lie, but this was his brother. Jon would remain silent for a few seconds longer, hoping she would just let it go. He knew she would not. “Babe.” She says sternly.

He would sigh softly, his shoulder slumping in defeat as he met his wife’s demanding gaze. “Her and Josh liked each other back in the day.” He confesses. “It didn’t go anywhere because Málí moved off for college, but everyone knew.” He finishes. In the same fashion that Jon’s shoulders dropped, Trinity’s would too. She lifts her hand to her nose, pinching the bridge of it. Málí was the original Alina. 

“Are you serious?” She asks, looking up at him. Jon confirms with a nod. “This is a hot ass mess.” She says.

Jon scoffs at her words. “Shit, you can say that again.”

In the dining room, Josh and Málí were alone. Jeremiah and Sefa clear the table of all the food while Talisua and Rikishi are outdoors, squabbling about what had transpired tonight. The family dinner was over now, thanks to their father and him. Josh’s leg bounced anxiously beneath the table as he impatiently waited for Alina to return. She had been gone for five minutes, and his brother and sister hadn’t returned yet. “She’s pretty,” Málí speaks, initiating the conversation between the two friends. Josh’s leg would stop bouncing at the sound of Màlí’s voice. He briefly glances at her from the corner of his eyes before returning his focus to the wall.

“Thank you.” He says.

“You’re welcome.” She says, turning to look at him. Lílí’s tongue danced behind her lips as she contemplated her following words. “You think she’s the one?” She asks, prompting Josh to look at her now. 

“I know it.” He replies.

“Good. A big-hearted man like you deserves only the best kind of love.” She says. Josh would scoff softly at her words, shaking his head. Málí smiles softly. “What?” She asks.

“You know why you were brought here, right? Man, that man was trying to set you up with me.” He says, pointing to the outdoors with a grin. It was now Málí’s turn to laugh, her eyes following his point out the window. 

“I know.” She admits, wiping the little grin off his face. Josh would turn his attention to his old friend again, now watching her with the same blank face as earlier. She would watch him back, her smile shrinking in size. “Honestly, part of me really thought that when your dad said you were coming to town and that you weren’t seeing someone, this was the Universe giving us a second chance.” She confesses. “But now that I’m here and see Joshua Fatu all grown-up and in love, I know that that is not true, and this was much-needed closure.” The more Málí spoke, the quieter Josh got. It wasn’t that he had nothing to say to her, but because he didn’t know what to say. Knowing her love for him never faltered despite spending several years apart with no contact racked his brain in a way Josh hadn’t felt in years. Suddenly, he was an eighteen-year-old boy looking at an eighteen-year-old woman again. First loves, first everything. But none of that mattered. Who he was then is not who he is now. 

“I probably could’ve reached out years ago.” She says.

“I could’ve too,” He says, not allowing her to take the blame for their time apart. “I’ve been in Seattle plenty of times throughout the years, and not once did I think to look you up.” He confesses. “My bad, Uce.”

Málí giggles at his apology. “It’s all good.” She assures him. “We cool now, though, right?” She asks. With a grin, Josh leans across the chair between them, his hand extended for their old handshake. With a grin just as big as his, Málí would effortlessly perform the handshake. To know neither of them forgot the greeting made them laugh. 

“Yeah, we’re cool.” 

“Damn, Alina still ain’t back?” Jon says, looking around the room. The pair, still united at the hand, would look up the couple that had entered the room. Trinity’s eyes would focus on joined hands before looking between the pair they belonged to. Josh’s smile would diminish at the mention of his girlfriend. For fifteen minutes, he’s forgotten all about her. Josh’s gaze shifted from his brother to his sister, who glared at him with crossed arms. 

“I thought you said she was good.” He says, dropping Málí’s hand finally. 

“Boy, that didn’t mean you can carry on!” Trinity shouts at him. Josh stands to his feet, moving past the couple. Trinity turns to her man, flexing her hands at him. “Ooh, I want to ring his neck.” She says to Jon. 

Josh makes his way down the hall towards the guest bathroom. “Lina.” He calls out, hoping she’ll answer him before he gets to it. No response would come from the other side of the door, but he could tell the light was on beneath it. “Baby.” He knocks at the door, his ear now pressed to it. When he hears nothing on the other side, he moves his hand down to the doorknob. He twists the handle, cracking the door just a little. “Alina, you good?” He asks. No response prompts him to open the door further, revealing an empty bathroom. He steps in, looking around the bathroom for her. “The fuck…” He whispers to himself. 

Josh comes out of the bathroom, looking up and down the hall. “Ay!” He calls out to his brother and sister. He would see their shadows before they came around the corners. “I thought y’all said she was in the bathroom.” He says, pointing down the hall.

“She was,” Trinity answers.

“She ain’t in there now,” Josh says, opening the door on the wall across from him. His hand skims the wall, hitting the light switch to see if she is inside. “Help me find her.” He tells them, fishing his phone from his back pocket. In three swipes, his thumb unlocks the phone, opens his contacts, and calls Alina’s phone. His phone would hover near his ear as he exited the room and marched down the hall to the next closed door. He was listening for the ring of her phone but heard nothing.

“I’m sorry, but the person you called––.” He ends the call and redials. 

“Lina.” He calls out once more. Still no answer.

“I’m sorry, but the person you––.” Josh ends the call abruptly, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket. He swears under his breath, pivoting in the room he stood in. 

“Uce, she’s not outside,” Jon says, stopping at the door. Josh furrows his brows, his face contorting in anger. He’d suck his teeth in response to him.

“Man––.” Josh starts, charging forward out of the room. He was about to give his old man a piece of his mind. Jon had other plans, though. He pushes his hand into his twin’s chest, slightly shoving him back. “Bruh, watch out.” He says, pushing his brother’s hand away.

“Hollering at that man ain’t going to do shit but make Mama mad. Just go and find Lina. I’ll tell Mama you got an emergency.” He tells him. Josh stands there for a moment, grimace still prominent on his features. “Go!” He exclaims at him, stepping to the side to let him exit. Josh would squeeze past his brother in the door frame, marching angrily towards the front of the house. 

                                          —––––––––––––

Alina was curled into a ball on the couch, her arms wound tight around her frame. The light from the television bounced off the walls and danced along her face, her eyes catching the light stunningly. She returned to Josh’s house about fifteen minutes ago via an Uber she ordered and has since turned her phone off. It didn’t take long for Josh to notice her absence, maybe about fifteen minutes down the road if she had to estimate––at least that’s when his calls started coming in. 

Between his father and this Málí woman, tonight was a lot. It was more than what she could handle at this time. She had spent the earlier hours of the day panicking about his family’s approval, trying to make sure she looked presentable, only for his father not to give her the time of day. At least his mother liked her, or it seemed like she did. Talisua probably thinks the poor girl is a drama queen because of the way she left the dinner. 

The front door opens and closes, followed by heavy footsteps, drawing Alina’s eyes towards the living room entryway. Josh was home. He comes around the corner, stopping in the archway at the sight of her. Josh spent twenty minutes driving around his parent’s neighborhood looking for her before eventually checking her location. When he discovered she was home, he raced all the way here. The couple exchanged brief stares at each other before Alina looked away, turning her attention back to the TV. Josh walks into the room, approaching the couch she is lying on. He leans down, snatching the remote off the table and turning off the TV. 

Silence replaces the ambient sounds of the television, prompting Alina to rise on the couch. Josh sits down next to her, laying his elbows against his knees. His head was low. His shoulders rise and fall with the heavy sigh he releases. “Why’d you leave?” He asks, his voice husky.

Alina watches him for a moment, pondering over her response to him. “I wasn’t wanted––.”

“I wanted you there.” He cuts her off. “I wanted you there.” Alina becomes quiet again, her eyes unblinking as she watches Josh’s back. “You’re always thinking about yourself, putting yourself first, and shit.” He says after several seconds of quietness. Alina’s eyes would venture off to the left while her brows furrowed in confusion at his words. Was he calling her selfish?

“Is that not what I’m supposed to do?” She asks, fixing her gaze on him again. He scoffs at her question, lifting his hands to push his fingers through dark coils upon his head.

“Are we not a team?” He asks, turning to look at her. “Teams communicate, right? So, if something is bothering you, we talk about it, right?” His leg angrily bounced while he watched her. “You abandon the team, and the team falls apart, right?” He says, his tone gradually growing. He was angry with her––rightfully so. She knew he would be when he found her and mentally prepared herself for all the shouting he’d do.

“Josh, I wasn’t going to stay where I wasn’t wanted––.”

“I did for you!” He exclaims, turning to look at her. “You had me off in that damn room with an ex I knew nothing about. He’s sitting here pressing me day into the night, and you couldn’t sit through a family dinner? You had me out there fighting over you, but my pops being an asshole was the line?”

Slowly, Alina began to shake her head, lifting her left hand as she did so. “I didn’t ask you to do that.” She says, earning a laugh out of him. “I told you to leave.” He shakes his head, shifting to turn his whole body towards her.

“Man, you don’t get it, do you?” He asks her. “I stayed because I love you. Despite what you wanted, I stayed for you.” He points. “That is what you do for those you love, right? That was a sacrifice I was willing to make for the sake of our relationship because I want this,” He motions between the two of them. “to work. Love requires sacrifice, Lina. It requires effort.” He explains.

“I understand that––.” She begins.

“Shit, do you? Cause it doesn’t feel like it.” He admits, cutting her off for the third time tonight. Alina would furrow her brows at his question, his doubt baffling her. 

“Are you serious right now?” She asks. “Your father made it extremely clear where I stood with him!”

“Don’t nobody give a damn what he is talking about!” He says, raising his voice. Rikishi is known to be a bit controversial in his interactions with people. Josh was foolish to think he wouldn’t do that with him over Alina. He had hoped that his father would learn from his mistakes with Trinity and Jon, but that was not the case tonight. Same person, same old mistakes. 

“I do!” She says back in the same loud tone. “I care about your family’s approval! If they have to see me for holidays and birthdays, I don’t want to feel like I’m not supposed to be there!” Alina elaborates. It might’ve not meant anything to Josh, but it meant everything to her to have his family’s approval. Josh had already met her family; there was no avoiding it with how often he lingered around her home. The McLemores welcomed him into their family without any issues, objections, or shade. She was not expecting what she got today.

“Then why did you leave? That only made things worse!”

“I’m not staying where I’m not wanted!” She shouts back. “What’s not fucking clicking, Joshua?” Alina snaps her fingers in his face, making him lean back slightly. “You wanted me to sit there and watch him brush me off all night? Make me feel insecure?” She asks. “You wanted me to hear you shouting at him and upsetting your mother? Give them more reason to dislike me? They haven’t seen their son in months because he’s playing house with someone he wasn’t dating six months ago! ” Josh becomes silent, turning away from the woman next to him. He lifts his left hand to the bridge of his nose, gently pinching it. 

Alina would watch him for a moment longer, her eyes unblinking. “You wanted me to watch you stare at your ex the entire night?” Josh’s head snaps at that question, his brows furrowed in confusion. He sucks his teeth at the woman.

“Bruh, what?”

“The girl at dinner. She’s your ex, right? That’s why Trin and Jon had to switch up their seating arrangement. No one would say what was going on, but I was able to catch on.” Between how Josh and Jon were acting and the speed round questions Rikishi was asking her, it only made sense to Alina to assume she was an ex. You don’t move around people like that if they weren’t their ex. Alina gave Theo not even a second at the wedding despite his multiple attempts to talk to her. For the majority of the day, they were apart. The exes were two ships passing at night until he started floating too close to her. 

“She ain’t nothing to me.” He dismisses the assumption after several seconds of quiet.

“I’ve heard that before––,” Alina shrugs.

Oh, how the tables have turned in two days. What Josh was saying to her about Theo, she was now saying about him. Both accusations were untrue, but only one had a higher chance of being true. Where Alina had no contact with Theo, Josh did with Lílí––but he knew who he wanted, and the fact that she said those words infuriated him. He was not him. “Ay, ay, Lina? Don’t fucking compare me to that man. I mean that shit.” He says. “I ain’t nothing like him.” His name and Theo’s should never be in the same sentence, but it was thrown in there, all because of something out of his control. He wasn’t about to plead his case with her over Málí either. He has never given Alina a reason not to trust him––why would he now?

“You know what,” She breathes, “I don’t want to argue anymore, Josh,” She states, standing to her feet. “I’m going to bed.” She wasn’t about to listen to this. 

And there she goes, running away from her issues instead of facing them head-on. It was one of her greatest flaws and the thing about Alina that pissed Josh off the most. “Who said we’re done talking?” Josh asks, standing up to block her path.

“You don’t have to be done with shit, Josh, but I am.” She says, moving to the side. He would take another step to block her. Her eyes would find his chest––her lips twisted as she bit back acidic words. “Can you move?” She requests.

“Nope, we’re talking.” He says. No, you’re yelling, she thought. “I’ve spent two years chasing your selfish ass––.” Now, it was her turn to cut him off. Her hands go up in disbelief.  

“Selfish!? Really? Really?” She shouts. 

“Yeah, really!” He nods. “You got me embarrassing myself for you, trying to prove to you that I am worthy of your time––and you’re going to sit up here and compare me to a bitch that didn’t have the balls to tell you he wasn’t feeling you anymore? Huh?” She sidesteps him, only for him to block her way again. “All because your stupid ass Ex fucked around on your ass don’t mean I will.”

Alina takes a step back at his words, slightly tilting her head at him. “Mm,” She hums, taking a few more steps back. His last words cut through her like a blade. She didn’t like that. Well, damn. Tell me how you really feel, she thought. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.” She voices. She averts her eyes from the man, looking from left to right. “Things were a helluva lot peaceful when we were just friends.” She confesses.

Those words felt weird coming from her mouth, probably because she did not believe a single word she was saying. She loves this man who stands in front of her, loves him with every fiber of her being, but these last few days were too much for her to handle. They’d only had one day of peace in the three days they’d been home together, and she was exhausted. She was tired of crying. She was tired of feeling like she did something to deserve any energy she got from people. She’s done nothing. 

Josh’s shoulders would slump at her words––any anger that he had previously was now gone. He smacks his lips at her words, shaking his head. “Lina––.” He says, reaching to grab her hand. Alina slips out of his grasp, pulling her hand from his. She didn’t want him touching her.

“No,” She says, shaking her head. “I’m cool. We’re cool.” She assures him, stepping around him. He allowed her by this time. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight, get my stuff from your room in the morning, and I’m going to head out after. Save you from embarrassing yourself anymore.” 

Before Josh could say anything else, Alina had rushed from the living room, leaving the regret-filled man standing in the center of the room. Josh brings his hand to his mouth, clasping it tight over his mouth.

He needed to sit down. 

–––––––––––––––––––

A/N: Yay, new chapter! Who cheered! 🤭

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s @xoxoneah

[stillcominback]

💫 so what if i did 💫

[additiva]

can u rec some lestappen fanfics pleaseee i feel like i’ve read everything and ur an amazing writer so i trust ur taste (even ones you haven’t read and want to read will do) tyy

Ooh I love this. Also that's so lovely thank you 🤍❤️

Lestappen Fic Rec List

Below the cut.

Ok not an exhaustive list, but here are the ones I remember LOVING.

Some are well known, some less so.

I can't rec any I haven't read yet sorry I'm super picky about the writing style, which you don't know until you get into the fic.

I've tagged some authors, some I couldn't remember their Tumblr names even though I follow them. I'll try to remember to tag them later, but also feel free to do so, if you know them.

Please leave kudos and comment on these fic if you check them out 🤍

I'll try to remember to update the list in future if I can.

Every Other Sunday by Anney

Obviously

Home (is wherever I'm with you) by actparci

Charles leaves Ferrari. There's a million of these, and this is my favourite.

Grapefruit Mignonette by slapshots

Restaurant au. The best of the trope in my opinion though the others are also good.

Set My Midnight Sorrow Free by PrincessElectra

-LOVE this series. Ugh. NOT an au.

Violent delights by grandprix

-ABO. Adore this series esp the second one.

Straight Lines by @alphatinies

Yes. Can't describe just read.

Blood Soaked Gown by sixteenthirtythree

ABO. Friends w benefits. Max is retiring and wants Charles to take his Red Bull seat. Adore it.

Canine teeth in the side of my neck by mintchocolatechip97

Silly! Biting. Don't look directly at me.

If I had words by @formula-fun

ABO. Charles has a miscarriage. Don't let the pregnancy themes scare you, it's perfect. The dynamics are 🫠 I adore this Max 😖

Called to the devil and the devil said hey by @creabirds

Yes. Sticks in my brain like glue.

A life in your shape by weiwuxian

- Max is Batman. This bit, I'll never forget:

But it was what made it fun — being taunted and kissed in the same breath. To fight and fuck and feel worshiped the whole time.

Top of the world (looking down on creation) by eaurouge-sangnoir

Sex worker Charles, virgin Max. 😖

Breathe You In (Like a Vapour) by @fabbyf1

🌶️🌶️❤️❤️

I'll Be Right Beside You by @fabbyf1

Max has amnesia. Charles is perfect.

Curious by LaurawritingF1

Charles is bicurious. Max is happy to help.

Heart Out series by @drivestraight

Girl!Max. Charles is bad at sex, but for some reason Max keeps doing it with him. Underrated. One of my fave series ever. Charles is a simp. He cannot handle Max, but he tries anyway, and I LOVE him.

Panem et circenses by Anney

SO underrated wow. Dystopian future of F1 fic, and like. Wow. Perfect. Wow.

Dirtbag, baby by mondaycore

All of their lestappen. Again, don't look directly at me. Look at the fic instead.

The Skirt by Anonymous

Silly! And short. But I love it.

Says he's going to teach me what fast is by @foggystars

Their lestappen are great but actually this Charlos one is my fave 🤌

And these are not Lestappen. They're Maxiel primarily, which I don't seek out in my life but they're SO perfect it makes me sick. I think anyone would enjoy them. The writing is just perfect.

To the Victor Belong The Spoils by @powerful-owl

Hunger Games AU. Wow the writing. The characterisations. Wow. It's all perfect. Wow. Please read it. You'll love it.

Steal the air out of my lungs by nahco3

Resident doctor au. Both accurate and compelling. Max is so dear to me. And Lewis. Love of my life, ugh.

Leave this blue neighbourhood series by tiredtiredsharl

This whole series I must've read 20 times. Multi-ship, though not Lestappen. Found family. It heals me with every word, it's just 😖😖❤️❤️.

Okay that's it for now. Lmk what you think.

[mistydeyes]

for all my ugly sleepy girls out there🎀 (aka me bc beauty sleep is not a word in my vocabulary lol)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

pairing: kyle "gaz" garrick x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, some implied sexy fun times lmao

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

You were by no means a sleeping beauty. You had been told by friends, family members, and even exes that you were the absolute worst when you slept. The laundry list of reasons you were the ugliest sleeping corpse crept into your mind every time you fell asleep. From drool-soaked pillows to your snoring that sounded like a mix between a chainsaw and a rumbling earthquake, you reveled in the fact that you lived in a one-person flat.

That was part of the reason you were hesitant to allow your boyfriend, Kyle, to spend the night after some festivities. It wasn’t like you hadn’t slept together before but it was usually following a drunken-filled night and he was still knocked out when you awoke and made yourself look a bit more presentable. But this time, it was clear he had come to stay when he showed up at your flat with dinner and a small backpack. Your heart sank as he innocently walked to your bedroom and you peeked into the bag to find it filled with basic toiletries and a fresh set of clothes for the next day.

You knew you were doomed the minute you both fell back into the sheets and he replied that he would get washed up for bed. “You sure you want to stay over,” you called as you followed him into the brightly lit washroom, “I’m a bit of a kicker when I sleep.” You decided to throw that in instead of all the other odd things you did in your sleep, you secretly hoped he’d get the hint and head home. You leaned against the doorframe as you watched him go about his quick routine and waited for a response. “Think I can handle it,” he replied as he patted his face with one of your face towels and delicately folded it in his hands. His boyish, charming smile made you melt but you decided to remain firm on the task at hand. You tried to feign a smile and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “Alright,” you said a bit cautiously before making your way to the sink, “just have to brush my teeth, I’ll be back to bed in a moment.”

The minute Kyle was out of the bathroom, you speed-ran your nightly routine. You ditched your multi-step skincare routine and went with the bare bones. As you quickly rubbed your moisturizer in with one hand and brushed your teeth with the other, you tried to figure out a solution to your current predicament. Kyle was the perfect partner and you wanted him around in the future but you knew from past experiences your sleeping habits were an immediate turn-off. You juggled the idea of sneaking to sleep on the couch but decided it was too risky. Eventually, you decided in your infinite wisdom it would be best to try and stay up for the remainder of the late night. You sighed as you washed your hands and patted your face with a soft towel. You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror before shutting the lights and returning to the bedroom.

“Took you long enough,” Kyle teased as he pulled you into bed. He gently placed his phone on your nightstand as you approached the bed. You giggled as he flipped you over him and wrapped a secure arm around your waist. You couldn’t help but reach a hand up and allow your fingers to trace his features. “You have to tell me what you use to keep your skin so soft,” you teased as you leaned closer to him. He smiled at your comment before moving his hand to tuck a few loose pieces of hair behind your ear. “I’ll never tell,” he whispered as he gazed at you, “besides, you are the most gorgeous person to me.”

Oh, how ironic his compliment was. You couldn't help but mentally gag at that comment, knowing there was so much more to you that he hadn't and hopefully would never see. It pained you to even try to imagine what it would be like to pull off an all-nighter. However, to keep Kyle, you would do anything. You lay in a comfortable silence, your hands exploring his chiseled frame, before he spoke up again. “Get some sleep, love,” Kyle commented before placing his head into the crook of your neck. You sat wide awake as his gentle breaths brushed your clavicle. You were fighting off sleep the best you could but were drawn into the idea of peaceful slumber every time he slowly tightened his grip around you. You pinched the side of your thigh as you tried to continue your little charade. You eventually moved slowly, untangling yourself from his grasp. You gently moved his head from your neck and rolled out of his arms that were settled around your waist. You could’ve sworn you heard him stir awake but the minute you looked back, he was still softly sleeping.

As you turned over and watched the soft midnight light hit Kyle’s face, you couldn’t help but yawn a bit from exhaustion. You rubbed your tired eyes and refocused your attention on how his chest softly rose and fell. He was gorgeous even when he was asleep. He looked peaceful as if he was something out of a fairytale book. You secretly envied him as you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your various social media platforms. You could feel your eyes getting heavier as you continued to scroll. “Just going to close my eyes for a few moments,” you said to yourself as you slowly felt yourself sink into your warm sheets.

When you awoke, you frantically trapped your phone to look at the time. 8:56 AM the letters harshly read as you wiped some droll off your face. You took a minute to wake up before you realized, fuck, Kyle was nowhere to be seen. Your insecurities began to unravel before you heard some noise in the kitchen. You rose from the bed and hissed at the cold hardwood hitting your feet. You pulled on a shirt that had been haphazardly thrown on the ground and made your way to the bathroom. You took a moment to look at yourself in all of your disgusting glory as you continued to hear the commotion of ceramic cups clanging against each other. “At least he didn’t leave,” you mumbled to yourself before you ran the faucet and splashed some water onto your face.

“Hey,” you said gently as you walked over to the kitchen. You had spent a good five minutes brushing your wild hair and scrubbing your drool-crusted face. Kyle was leaning against the counter as he prepared two cups of tea. "Sorry if I woke you," he commented and you couldn't help but smile at the baritone nature of his morning voice. You shook your head as you stretched lightly and suddenly felt a bit shy at the feeling of his eyes on yours. “I’m sorry,” you suddenly blurted out as you made your way to him, “I know I’m an ugly sleeper and I should’ve warned you before you slept over.” As you scanned his face for a reaction, he burst out in laughter. You rubbed your neck in embarrassment as he calmed down from his sudden outburst. “I will say I was scared at first when I looked over and saw your eyes were open but I was happy to hear you loudly snoring after,” he said through chuckles, reaching up and cupping your cheek. You were flushed at his words and felt yourself slowly dying from shame. “But you know I’m a soldier, love,” he reassured you as he stoked your soft face, “I have slept in much worse situations.”

You let out a sigh and looked back up at him with a soft smile. “Well I’d be more than happy to stay 'round yours,” you teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “now that you know what you’re in for.” As you savored the moment, you couldn’t help but look over to see how the phone with a few notifications popping up. What was more important was the fact that his new lock screen was a picture of you sprawled out on his chest, eyes half-lidded, and hair a complete wreck. Before you could even think about it, he snatched the device and placed it safely in his pocket. “Don’t even think about it, love.”

[mist-fire]

Thirteenrose Master Fic List

I'm aware of the fact that honestly, there's not enough fics for this ship (a tragedy) to warrant a master list, but I wanted to share some of my very favorite thirteenrose fics.

All below the cut!!

last sunrise in the wasteland, by Shaedan

A tragic, angsty fic of how Thirteen would handle being able to interact with Rose, one last time.

i'm on my own, you're at the beach hundreds of miles away, by thelemonisinplay

Rose only has 36 hours in her universe to solve a problem, and then she's heading home. Angsty lovely closure.

'cause I followed my star (that's what you are), by quantumshade

Lovely little one-shot, where instead of regenerating into Ten during the Christmas Invasion, the Doctor regenerates into Thirteen.

A Door Once Opened, by BlueMargaritasAndYum

Rose comes back, but she's got a wedding to attend to, and what better way to do it, then have the Doctor be her fake girlfriend. Super sweet, soft fic that I loved.

Back Here in Another Universe (After All You've Been Through), by regenderate

Fantastic reunionfic one-shot, that I have no notes for. It ate that up.

Pink and Yellow Roses, by CupofSonic

Another by CupofSonic! Multi-doctor one-shot, ultimately ending with a thirteenrose reunion. Beautiful prose and an excellent understanding of the characters.

I'll Take You There Someday, by Allamarain

You want Thirteen pining after Rose, even after thousands of years? Look no further than this angsty hurt filled one-shot that breaks your heart in the best of ways.

The Reason (Is You), by MarbleHeart

Featuring two of my favorite tropes: Thirteen looking like Rose for a reason, and a reunionfic! Gorgeous fic!

Heal Thyself, by Allamarain

I love Tentoo as much as the next person, but what if he was too much? What if Rose couldn't fix him? This explores that, in the first longer form story yet on this list!

One Ring to Bind Them, by CupofSonic

Multi-doctor fic that has them mourning over Rose, until suddenly, they don't have to mourn anymore.

You're So Northern, by MiJasmine

What do I need to say about this? Short, soft, fluffy reunionfic!

i had a feeling so peculiar, by tablox

Love the hints of Bad Wolf throughout this one! The Doctor is searching, but can she find Rose? Reunionfic

Here I Love You, by Maiden_of_the_Moon

A desperately mourning Doctor talks to sixteen year old Rose in a club. ANGST fest galore, but beautifully written.

It's Me Here, Riding A Light Through The Universe, by Allamarain

What if Rose had never met the Doctor until she was twenty three? This story explores that! Another long form fic by Allamarain that I THOROUGHLY enjoyed.

You Will Find Me Time After Time, by mltrefry

This is seriously one of my favorite thirteenrose fics ever. When the stars never went out, Rose was trapped in the other universe, but now, for a completely unrelated problem, she has returned. Will she meet the Doctor? Another longer one!

When The Chaos Calls Me Out, by Melusine0811

Thirteen follows the ache of a broken bond to Pete's World, where she finds Rose alone and hurting, the Metacrisis nowhere to be found. What's an alien to do? Longer form, and absolutely brilliant!

i wished on a star (it brought me you), by rcsetyler

Broken and alone in Pete's World, Rose tries to find the one person to lessen her grief. A wonderful reunionfic.

come on, come home to me, by nounpolycule

Short and sweet reunionfic of what might've happened if Rose was stranded in the same place the TARDIS had stopped.

Pertinacia by lumidaub

The first incomplete and first comic of this post, but don't let that dissuade you! This comic is gorgeously drawn, with just the right amount of ridiculousness. Very excited to see where lumidaub takes it next!!

your bouquet of golden roses, by lifeitself

Also incomplete, and unlikely to be finished, but truly one of the most gorgeous and well written pieces of media that I have had the fortune to consume in the past few years. The last chapter is a decent enough stopping point, and the story and prose itself are so so worth it.

a collapsing star, by sunshinemachine

A little twisted and convoluted in the best of ways, this is an angsty one-shot that will keep you on the edge of your seat!

No More, by Singing_Siren

What can I say other than a masterfully executed reunion one-shot!

World in Flux, by withthekeyisking

Rose takes a bit of a unique path back to her original universe, but she muddles along the best she can, hoping to eventually find the Doctor. Great one-shot!

Interwoven, Entangled, by regenderate

Multi-doctor fic showing how Rose fits in with the rest of the Doctors, featuring one of my very favorite hcs, Bad Wolf as Disability!

forever (wondering if you knew), by sherlgrey

Silly little multi-doctor speed dating fic, and ends with some gorgeous thirteenrose.

[iiryoku]

So... chapter 236 of JJK. I got some things that I wish to talk about or at least get out, since Satoru is one of my most active muses (and the one I am most connected with), when it comes to the muses, that I write on my multi.

First and foremost, I gotta say that I do not agree, with how Gojo's death was handled. I think, what Gege did was HIGHLY disrespectful. Not only due to the way Gojo's death was off-screen, but also with how disrespectful he is towards his own characters. I know, these are Gege's characters, so he can do whatever he pleases with them, but in my eyes, he is not deserving of them.

"And he wasn't giving his all" This just seems completely wrong??? Sukuna almost died more than once and you're telling me that he wasn't giving his all - either this is wrong translated or Gege forgot 65% of the fight that just happened over the last chapters. We shouldn't forget that Sukuna even felt nervous at one point due to how powerful Gojo was. I am not saying this because I love Satoru with my whole heart, but I am saying it because it's a fact. What annoys me even more is the following;

Nah, Sukuna needed the ten shadows to even come close to Satoru, Sukuna himself even explains this - which also means that Sukuna couldn't have beat Gojo without the ten shadows, never mind how you view it. He needed Mahoraga to get past Gojo's CT, therefore, that automatically makes him beatable by Gojo. We also should not forget, that Sukuna used Megumi as a shield (more than once, mind you) to not die from Gojo's CT, which is why this just seems so stupid??? Tbh, it almost seems like a completely different manga?? Was all the earlier chapters and explanations just a joke then or did I have some form of fevered dream??

Another explanation for this, could be that Gojo means "his all" as in him as a person, because he states that he tried to "reach" Sukuna, by showing him how strong he was/is. However, this also seems strange that Gojo is trying to reason with a curse. It almost seems like, Gojo is forgetting that even though that Sukuna might have felt lonely, once upon a time, due to his strength, that he is now a curse and therefore lack humanity.

This, right here, this, is especially mean. Especially because we know, how far Satoru has went to protect those around him and even non-sorcerers. However, this can be explained by the fact that they all are in teenage form and their mindset might be, what Gojo believe them to be like - he might feel like this is how Nanami saw him as. As we can see, he seems shocked and upset, which is very understandable. Gojo took on Suguru's dream, to create a world, where they wouldn't have to stand on the corpses of their friends - where they would be able to smile from the bottom of their hearts. Yes, Gojo might not have wanted to protect people as a teen or cared about others, but he sure changed and grew.

I dislike this entire thing??? Once again, makes me believe that we are only seeing what they thought as teenagers and not as how they would as actual adults. For no wonder they thought that way, when they were younger.

Once again, Sukuna confirms that he needed Mohoraga to beat Gojo aka, he could not do it without the ten shadows, at least not as he is. I could say, so much more, because I got so many feelings about all the things that happened in this chapter. But to round it off, I will gladly take Satoru Gojo off Gege's hands, because he clearly is just pissing on his own creations at this point and do not show the proper respect each of them deserves. But also, thank you for giving us all the smiling beans, that was the only good thing about this chapter. Also, if this is how Gojo goes down, then this is, where it ends for me. I do not mind Gojo dying, but this, this was just, I have no words, it makes me so angry. He did not deserve to go out this way. If Gege does do something about how this was handled, then I will gladly take off my hat, but as of right now, I am just going to completely ignore this chapter.

[my-random-thoughts-about-lu]

Four knows how to resolve a fight in a team

Just a little headcanon of mine about Four and his eyes. -His basic eye colour is grey -When one of the colours comes to the front, their colour is gonna be showing in the eye -when they are all kind of in the front. All their and no one really pushing to take control, just listening the eyes are multi-colored -and if they are all in sync with one another the eyes are amber brown colours I hope that made sense.

TW: fighting, arguing, verbal arguing, mentions of physical fighting but they never do, just that one of them wanted to, fluff, fluff and humor, light angst, happy ending..i guess you can call it that

Summary:

Sky and Legend do not have the same views on Hylia. Even though it should create problems, they don't butt heads as much as the Link's thought they would. There are eye rolls or huffs of laughs at some of the things the other is saying. But it never escalated. Until Legend said something that got sweet, calm Sky almost wringing his neck.

(1715 words)

Sky and Legend do not have the same views on Hylia. Even though it should create problems, they don't butt heads as much as the Link's thought they would. There are eye rolls or huffs of laughs at some of the things the other is saying. But it never escalated. Until Legend said something that got sweet, calm Sky almost wringing his neck. The Link's weren't even able to process what the Veteran said before Twilight had to hold the chosen hero back with all his strength. It had shocked many of them. The pants less hero the most. Standing behind Warriors arm. While the captain tried to reason with Sky.

They didn't interact with one another after that. It was worse than walking on egg shell's. The hero's couldn't tell what would tick one of them off. It made the team more vulnerable. Warriors and Time wanted this whole thing talked out. But it was impossible to bring the two close to each other and talking without a growl in there and hidden threat's. So they tried to cope with it. It didn't go well for them in one of the many fights against a monster camp in Wild's Hyrule. Sky and Legend weren't able to concentrate on the fight fully. They both ended up hurt and Hyrule didn't care if they had a fight or not. If they are hurt he will tend to them. They don't have to talk but they have to sit next to each other, so they won't hide or do something with their injuries. (It was a rule the Link's made, to insure that all heroes get their injuries taken care off. They made no exception and they are not about to start now because of a fight.)

They aren't fighting, so there is that at least but neither was happy. Crossing their arms over their chest (in Legends case as best he can with his wrist hurt) and not looking at each other. Prefering to glare at the ground.

Twilight was holding the injured smithy. He didn't know what would happen if he put Four with them. His overprotective brother side coming out without him wanting to. Holding the young hero just that bit closer to his chest. A tap on said chest brought his focus to the hero in his arms. "It's alright, Rancher. Just put me inbetween them. I can handle them." Twilight wanted to protest. It was one thing to put him next to them, but inbetween them!? He knew Four was capable but just like with Wind, the smith was one of the youngest. So he wanted to protect him at all costs. The smith seemed to understand his silence.

(Like most of the Link's did.)

"I've told you of my brothers before. I dealt with fights like this multiple times. I got this. Don't worry." The smile he gave the ranchhand, brought him some comfort. It was knowing and held a sort of inside joke he did not know. The rancher couldn't see any unease or anxiousness in the smallers eyes. He will be fine. He calmed down, because Four was calm.

So, he sat the smithy down. Right in between the two fighting heroes. The air shifted in an instand. Hyrule didn't let that affect his work. He let his masterfull healing work it's magic. Healing Four's leg with a ease that spoke of a lot of practice. Legend couldn't help the proud smile that crept up on him. Only for it do immediately disappear as he's catching Sky's eyes.

Hyrule seemed to ignore the two, in favor of making sure Four wasn't going anywhere with his foot. "I just want to get my book." mumbled Four but the traveller wasn't having any of it. "Then I'll get it for you." The smith tried to get it himself again but Hyrule glared at him and went to get the book instead. If the traveller learned one thing from the hero of legend, it is his iconic glare.

The Link's had noticed how Sky and even Legend stiffened as Four mentioned his book.

After a short while, Hyrule came back with the book. Handing it to Four, who opened it up and began reading. While the smithy was invested, Hyrule continued to tend to Legend's and then to Sky's wounds. Before he left them be, he made sure that the three knew what they can and can't do. Four moved into a more comfortable position without moving his freshly healed foot too much. The rest of camp didn't know what to do after that. Four had said he could deal with them but how was he going to do that while reading? They tried to go back to their routine's. Trusting the smithy. Seeing as the two fighting heroes haven't glared at eachother since he was sat down. They weren't looking at eachother either but it was better then it had been.

And then it happend.

Four turned to a new page a bit louder then nesesary. Glancing at the pouting heroes, he huffed before going back to his book. Whatever Four was doing, it was starting to work. Sky slowly crumbled. "Hey Legend, it was wrong of me to go at you like I did."

Four turned another page.

Both fighting heroes glanced at him. Sky continued, "you got your own stuff going on. I can not expect you to feel about Hylia the same way I do." Legend didn't respond right away. Not showing what he was think, making Sky look like a lost puppy.

The sound of yet another page being turned rang through the camp. Making the legendary hero tense. (Though, only Hyrule seemed to have noticed.)

With the sound, Legend finally crumbled as well. Sighing, he repositoned himself. "It's fine," Sky slumped just that bit in relief, "I know it is a touchy, feely subject for you...or whatever..."

Four turns his next page clear and slow.

"Ugh, fine! I had a shitty day and jumped at chance because you got angry with what I said! 'm sorry..."

"it's alright veteran." Sky smiled at him after day's of not even looking at him. Both nodded at eachother, finally, in understanding. Legend then turned to Four with a deadpanned; "happy?"

The smithy took a good look at both of them, smirked and went back to reading his book. Leaving all the heroes in camp tense. Legend groaned while Sky snickered, when Four turned yet another page with no care in the world.

If the smithy hadn't said anything to Twilight. He would have most likely missed how Four is bringing these two to talk with one another.

Every page turn made sure that the convention kept going and kept the attention staying on topic. Bringing them always back to the smithy, making sure that their emotions don't get the better of them. Why the two heroes are seemingly afraid of the book was a mystery to him still.

The ranchers thoughts get interrupted by small laughter and chuckles. Sky and Legend had both moved into a hug over the smithy. Forcing Four to lay down his book, leaning back and out of the way. He wasn't even trying to hid the multi-color eyed smirk he had. When the two heroes moved out of the hug, giving Four the space to move again, did the smithy close his book. Seeming satisfied with the hug. The two heroes relaxing. Sky putting his sailcloth around the smithy, keeping his brother warm. The injured trio a bit further away from the fire.

The whole camp was able to go back into their evening routine's after that. The three injured heroes filling the camp with silent conventions between them. Four giving Twilight a wink when he caught him staring. The wolfish hero didn't know how to feel about Four's 'experience' with fighting brothers. (What in the ever loving twilight relm are the smithy's brothers personalities like?!)

Twilight fell into his own route. Going into the woods to see if any monster where nearby. Turning into a wolf, when he was far enough from the camp.

Twilight was happy to be able to trun into a wolf again and make his rounds.

Because the rancher was the only one who could hold back an angry Sky, he wasn't able to leave the camp, if it wasn't clear that Sky won't attack Legend again. It was a justified fear of the other Link's, seeing as the rancher had to hold the chosen hero back two more times after the first.

But now, everything was back to normal and he could make sure that his brother's are safe. Wild calling for dinner brought him back from his musings. Listening closer and he could hear the others getting their fill for tonight. Twilight finished his rounds and came back to the mouth watering smell that is Wilds cooking. After he had shown his descendant the soup he learned from the yeti's, Wild had tried different ways of making the soup even better. The soup was a balsam to the soul and helped in calming the group down just that bit more. The cook still seemed not quite happy with it though, seeing how he analyzed the soup while eating.

Twilight surfed himself a bowl of the soup, sitting next to his cub. "Still not happy with it?" He asked, smirking to himself. Just a little. "No, I'm still not sure about the flavor", Wild muttered. Not really with his mentor but more to himself, "maybe some silent princess'? Or something different.." the muttering continued without Twilight. The cook in his own little world.

One spoon of the soup and Twilight couldn't understand what Wild found wrong with it. But then again, you are your owns worse critic. He savored one more spoon full before looking over to the injured trio. And sure enough, they were still happily talking. Now with soup in their hands. It would have been hard to believe that Legend and Sky had been fighting not two hours before this. (Or that Four solved the issue in about 30 minutes with a book of all things.) All looking calm and Four even more then he had before. His eyes almost glowing a warm amber.

[simplywrong]

Okay, so this is really stupid but I need this idea out of my head. (So, once again, please don't hate me)

So, here it goes: 2022 F1 cars as (racing) horse breeds

In the championship standings order

RB18 as Thoroughbred It was an obvious choice, this breed is extremaly fast and hard-working but they can be a little difficult to handle. They have kind of dare-devil nature and it for some reason reminds me of RB.

F1-75 as Tennessee Walker Those horses are strong and calm but tend to get anxious just before the race (they don't like the gate). So, given how the car was acting those past races I guess it fits? Also, yes the horses do stand like that (it's something that stands out among other breeds, so maybe that's a bit like Ferrari too?)

W13 as Andalusian I know they aren't as fast as the others but those cars aren't all that fast in 2022 too, right? Also they are beautiful and elegant, which just for some reason clicks with Mercedes. They are described as smart and quick to learn. Make of it watch you will (but I saw it in the light of hoping for Mercedes developement this year).

MCL36 as Paint Horse

Paint Horses are said to be friendly and easy going, so I matched them with the team pretty easily. They are very social and playful but can be stubborn at times. With the right motivation and training they can be very fast, so (by delusions and weird thinking) I thought of it as mirror image of the right strategy and conditions that can give the team win (like in Monza last year).

A522 as Akhal Teke Those horses have an high endurance and are really hardworking and I kind of see those qualities in the Alpine car. Akhal-Tekes are energetic horses with fits with the team spirit. (Also their fur can "shine" and the pink on A522 is bright so...)

C42 as Hanoverian It was hard to decide but I though that the elegant, "multi-talented and easy to train" horses sit well with Alfa. They are used in various different sports and it reminds me of how the team tries to adapt to every situation, catching every oportunity to do better. Also, they are said to be gentle and it reminds me of Alfa for some reason. (I know it doesn't make much sense).

AT03 as Morgan

This horses aren't the largest or fastest but they are strong and inteligent. For some reason when I was reading about them I thought about Alpha, I really can't explain why. Maybe it was just because they aren't the biggest among the teams but still show planty of fight?

VF-22 as Appaloosa Again, this horse breed is one of the shorter ones but it's said to be "playful, sociable, and quite intelligent" which just speaks Haas team to me. Also, they can be stubborn sometimes (especially when you want them to do some work) and I just see all this in the 2022 car (I'm pretty sure I'm crazy at this point).

AMR22 as Arabian Horse Okay, so this is highly subjective but I just immediately thought of matching those two up when I couldn't get rid of this (stupid) idea. Arabian horses are strong, fast and their endurance is incredible (not surprising, given that they were used to race on deserts) and the AMR22 showed that it can be all of those things. They are kind and calm (which reminds me of the whole AM team) but they can be stubborn and jumpy, making them hard to handle at times and this is just like a description of the 2022 car. Not to mention that those horses are absolutely gorgeous, just like the AMR22 chassis.

And last but not least: FW44 as Quarter Horse To say the truth this breed is a bit slower then the others mentioned here but they are strong and willing to learn new things and this just reminds me of Williams this season. Quarter Horses are calm and easy to handle, which makes them a the perfect horse, really. They might be overlooked a little but they are capable of doing great things.

Okay so that's it, it's made just for fun and is based on my own opinions (which are not logical or by any means true), so I hope nobody will get mad about it. Sorry again.

[fanficparker]

A GAME OF DIAMONDS AND HEARTS // H.O.

>> CHAPTER TWO

"The reward of sin is death? That’s hard." - Doctor Faustus, Marlowe

(Frenemies to Lovers! Mob AU! ) Harrison Osterfield x Fem!OC

Word count: 2.45k words

Warning: Swearing, jerk behaviour, keeping hostage, guns, blood and violence, sexual tension.

Synopsis: After the sudden death of his uncle and the eccentric multi-millionaire mafia king Lufian Clarke, Harrison Osterfield’s almost decent life is mostly devastated especially when half of what should be rightfully his fortune is transferred to their immediate rival for reasons he doesn’t know. What’s remaining is him trying to figure out how to deal with this collaboration of two rival corporations that don’t belong together and work on the side of the woman he never knew would ever be referred to as his partner in crime while they are dragged into a mess bigger than what they were trained to handle.

<< ONE [ MASTERLIST ] THREE >>

"Kill her."

Harry coughed. Twice.

"You know that's not possible," because if it was, wouldn't they have eliminated all their rivals already? The mafia was no easy business. It was equivalent to living on the edge without a rope tied to your waist to pull you back in case you fall off the cliff. Rather there was a rope tied to your ankle, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pull you down.

Harrison licked his dried lips as he rose from the desk, stepping closer to him. "Yeah and that's why Tom should be here, not you." He paused for a moment before mumbling: "Kid," amusement crossing his sharp features.

Harry's stomach rumbled with anger. Oh, and you are an obtuse twenty-four-year-old crazy old man who is also a big ass jerk.

He wanted to punch that grimace off his face.

The only reason he was a part of the mafia was that he believed in Clarke's philosophy, his ideology, his way of dealing with things but with Harrison on board, was it even the same anymore?

Harrison crossed the nineteen-year-old, barging into the door to exit the room. "Ask Tom to meet me in the car at seven. And until then I don't want a single soul near myself." He stated before putting a foot out of the door.

Harry expected to hear his departing footsteps but Harrison rather took a foot back, meeting the redhead's eyes with a steady gaze.

"And from next time," He warned, "knock before you enter." And with that he left, his footsteps echoing behind him.

All Harry could do was clench his fist.

***

It was a business agreement but it felt more like a marriage. An unwanted, forceful one. One where you hated your spouse to the moon and back and yet had to lose a part of your bed, life and love.

Why would you ever do this to me, Clarke? Why would you?! The anger and frustration bubbling inside his chest were too much to handle. He had left along with Tom and had captured one of Dino's closest men.

Dino was one of their new clients and had lately caused a lot of trouble from not paying the amount he owed to actually trying to fly off Europe.

If it was for any other day, Harrison wouldn't even bother handling Dino or any of his men by himself but today he needed a punching bag. A punching bag on whom he could pour all his pent up rage out. Beat his torment off another person's bones. That made sense to him.

He had dragged the man in the dark of the abandoned warehouse— the place Dino once used as a storage for his illegal weapons. The place he had tried to erase, pretend that it never existed.

Tom tied him to the chair for enquiry but Harrison was in no mood for that. He had already made up his mind. He didn't even let the man lift up his head to comprehend what was happening before Harrison's fist made a sharp contact with his jaw, knocking him to the floor along with the chair.

Tom watched from the side as Harrison grabbed the man's shirt, now dusty and violated with stains of fresh blood mixed with spit, establishing the chair back on the cemented floor with a thud. "Ask your boss to show up, will you?" He raised his voice several octaves as if to mock him for being so weak and helpless.

With blood sputtering between the guy's teeth, he tried to speak, "I--"

But Harrison instantly cuts in, circling around his chair, "Oh wait. What can you even do? You are useless for both me and Dino. That's why Dino left you here. He doesn't give a fuck if you live or die." He halted his steps and pulled the man's hair, sharply forcing his head back, jarring his neck, painfully stretching the muscles of his throat before spatting into his face, "You hear that? You. Are. Worthless."

And then he again swung his fist across his face, just this time he didn't stop. His knuckles throbbed with the sharp collision of bone against bone. His skin turned bright blue hidden by red. God, it felt good.

"We don't wanna kill him." Tom reminded, voice laced with disgust. This was brutal even for Harrison.

"I want to." He groaned, fisting his hands in the man's shirt.

"And here I wondered, Clarke's scion would be smarter."

His neck snapped at the voice. The source of the words— the silhouette emerged from the door, her heels hitting against the cemented floor as she strolled towards the blue light that filled the otherwise dark room.

Harrison recognised the voice well, he didn't need to wait for it to materialise into human form but he also didn't want to hear it, let alone see the person whom it belonged to. Somethings are inevitable, anyway.

"What are you doing here?" Tom was the first one to speak, his eyes focused on the woman who stood just a few feet apart from them, her shoulder-length dark hair sitting as a tight ponytail, high on her head, giving her the illusion of height.

She crossed her arms over her midsection, one foot slightly ahead of the other and let out a breath. "That's not a question, you ask your boss. Especially in that tone." Her words were sharp but not her voice or tone for that matter. For an outsider or an amateur, it would appear as if she was just there to ridicule the two boys. Yeah, in some way, it was true except for the 'just' part. Both Tom and Harrison were neither an outsider nor amateurs to read into that. They knew why she was here.

Harrison asked anyway, swallowing his boiling rage, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Her lips twisted into a half grin. "Well, you can ask that though."

The small laughter that followed her words made a muscle tick in his jaw. He was this close to snapping. Snapping to no avail. Snapping for vain. She had won. She had won his prize and there was nothing he could do to reclaim it. He couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that she got him. No, she didn't. He reminded himself. No one could.

"I just came to check on you guys. Also, considering the fact that none of you noticed me standing right outside this room..." She looked over her shoulder, pointing a finger at the door, "Anyone could have shot you dead right there."

"And oh my god!" She gasped upon turning back to the scene, her voice infused with fake concern, "What have you done to this poor soul?"

The tension that hung between them had managed to make the muffled cries of the fourth person inaudible to the three pair of ears in the room. Maybe because he was the rat rather than the conventional elephant, people were so used to address.

"He is my client," Harrison growled, low in his throat— a thinly veiled attempt at trying to keep things civil.

"Not just yours." She corrected, flashing a small smile in his direction, more of a grimace, walking towards the man tied to the chair. The two guys watched her with narrowed, questioning eyes as she removed her coat, the draping neckline of her red top doing the bare minimum to cover anything.

She slouched across his chair, wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, softly smearing it across his cheek.

"Is this bad boy bullying you?" She momentarily shot a glance at Harrison. The man nodded, too afraid and too injured to speak.

Clicking her tongue in disdain, she gripped his chin tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she pushed the chair to the back, supported only by one of her heels. He jerked in his bonded state.

She leaned near his face, her breath tickling in his ear. "Why not better start behaving then?" She whispered, her lips brushing against the side of his face. "I don't like pretty faces as yours harmed."

Her finger traced over his lower lip, her nail scratching his wound in ways more sensual than painful. "Will you comply?" Her eyes flickered down to his lips.

He nodded instantly and desperately. He was charged up; her scent was filling his senses. When her eyes were back to his face, his slid to take a peek at her cleavage, a mixture of fear and excitement dotting his sweltering forehead with beads of sweat.

"Good boy," she muttered and dragged her foot away from the chair, installing him back to where they had started.

"P-Please..." The guy managed to utter when she moved away, urgency evident in his voice. A triumphant grin got pasted over her face in response, making her laugh at his needy request.

Harrison could bet that the guy had a mild erection even in his blood ridden pathetic state. The scene almost made him puke. Where he was using force and blood, she was using her body, sex as a weapon. Definitely not his way of working. Yet, he failed to suppress the dull tightening sensation in his abdomen—and the part below it.

She walked up to him, pulling her hair down, brushing them with her fingers. Her laughter had long subsided but its residue was still echoing in his head. He hated that. He hated her.

"Doesn't it spark old memories, Osterfield?"

His face flickered with annoyance. It was in his best interest to ignore her words.

"Let's talk over at dinner." She offered, carrying her coat on her elbow. Yeah, they very much needed to talk even when he didn't prefer it. So, he walked out of the room, waiting for her to follow.

"You should seriously take him back to wherever you picked him from." She instructed Tom as if Harrison wasn't enough for him to deal with.

***

"We had a reservation," she smiled at the hostess, "by the name of Sandhya Omar." Harrison, on the other hand, was somehow managing not to kill. Her, specifically.

The hostess smiled back, taking a glance at the register in her hand, "Welcome, Ms. Omar. Let me escort you to your table." She smiled at Harrison too. He didn't appreciate the gesture.

She led them to a table perfectly designed for two, for a date perhaps, placed on a quiet, dimly lit balcony. Harrison removed his blazer, hanging it over the chair before folding the sleeves of his beige-coloured shirt over his arms and occupying the seat. The hostess dragged Sandhya's chair, letting her sit.

She mumbled a quiet thank you.

"A waiter will be here shortly." She informed and left. She didn't lie; not a minute had passed and the waiter was already there, passing them two menus and pouring clear champagne into their flutes. Before he could proceed to light the candles decorated over the table, Harrison interrupted:

"We don't need that."

"Of course we need that, darling." She cuts in, smiling so pleasantly at him, just like a cat would smile at a canary.

It was the waiter who smiled back, at both of them, actually. "I will come back for the orders when you both are ready."

"Thank you. We will take some time, though."

"No worries, Ms. Saan—dha—ya."

"Just call me Sandy, it's fine." She shrugged away his absurd pronunciation of her name. The waiter just passed her an apologetic smile, walking away, leaving them in solitude, surrounded by nothing but luxury and privacy.

"Talk?" Harrison began.

"What?" She pretended to be clueless.

It was a game for her.

Not for him.

"You wanted to talk."

"You don't?"

He wasn't having it. So, she simply rolled her eyes, choosing to initiate. "Okay... I will start," she let out a breath, "My mob wants me dead because they want what I have inherited."

Funny, they and Harrison were on the same page.

"And you walked here alone?" He quirked a brow.

She slumped in her chair, one foot crossed over her knee, "You see, I am not alone." Her hands gestured at him.

He snorted. Ridiculous.

"You seriously think that I want you any less dead than them?"

"Yeah."

"That's foolish." He leaned across the table, elbows pressing against the wood, "I'd kill you the second I'd get the chance." He stressed certain syllables, gritting his teeth in fury. His tone dripped scorn.

"No, you won't. You need me." She stated as a matter-of-fact, straightening her back.

"You wish." He replied quickly, scoffing at her misplaced confidence.

Her phone on the table vibrated, providing them with the much needed break from cocking their verbal guns at each other. The sneer on her face vanished in a heartbeat, quickly replaced by fear as soon as her eyes scanned the glowing screen. She tapped the dial on her watch before leaning across the table.

"Listen carefully..."

He didn't.

Her hands grabbed his collar, pulling his face closer to hers, tautly stretching the fabric of his shirt, "Your life is at threat too!"

Her eyes glanced at her watch again.

"Four minutes and they'll be here." The slight flicker of the candle burning across the table animated a dance of shadows on their faces, projecting the fearful vibrations in her stomach onto the surface. "For both of us," she clarified, their face centimeters apart.

He laughed pulling himself back, not considering her words any worthy of his contemplation, smoothening the creases she had created on his otherwise crisp shirt. But she was quick to pull him again, not allowing his eyes to focus on anything else but her.

"This is no drill, Harrison." She warned, her dark eyes cold and hard and locked on his blue ones.

"In four--three minutes, there will be a smoke bomb thrown below our table, and that's our only chance to escape. Take the left side, use the pipes to climb down as quickly as possible. A car will be waiting for you at the side of the street."

He squinted his eyes in disbelief, an expression of boredom covering his face. "Why would I trust you?"

She sighed, pulling a compact case, keeping it between them, the mirror facing his side. His pupils dilated noting the reflection on it. It was the reflection of a person, holding a sniper rifle, standing on the rooftop of the building across them.

A chill crept through his heart. Their eyes met again.

In a tone that lacked any hesitation and provided no explanation, she gave away the second part of the answer, "Because Clarke didn't die... He was murdered."

Yeah, people like Clarke don't just die.

____________________

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…TO BE CONTINUED…

>> Send me an ask or just reblog/comment this post with ‘Tag me’ or fill this NEW TAGLIST to get added to the taglist of AGODAH.

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[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and thanks for sticking with this. It’s quite fun to write for this ship, and I hope you’re all ready for homoerotic exercise and another argument between men who don’t know how to communicate :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Three - Proving a Point

Day Two: Tuesday

Gajeel woke in a pissy mood. This wasn't going like it was supposed to.

Freed was meant to be a smug, self important man with no practical skills, no world-hardened experiences, and no way of keeping up with what Gajeel was demanding of him. His three day plan had focused around humbling Freed, telling him that he wasn't hot-shit like he clearly thought, and making him realise that his cushioned life didn't mean he was Gajeel's equal.

What was not meant to happen was for Freed to be competent! He wasn't meant to make a shelter, he wasn't meant to be able to make a fire without a match, and he wasn't meant to be able to cook the damn fish and make them taste good! Even Gajeel couldn't do that.

Worse, the fucker knew. Oh he knew what Gajeel wanted but wasn't getting.

He hadn't been so smug when he'd lost though, had he? He hasn't been running his mouth when he'd been in the stream, gurgling his pathetic little surrender. Nah, he'd looked exactly how Gajeel wanted him; weak, embarrassed and unable to deal with the fact he was out of his league.

Sure, it hadn't taken long for Freed to recover and spout some bullshit about Gajeel being intimidated by his magic, or whatever the hell it was he said. He was trying to save face and Gajeel wouldn't let him; he had lost their fight because he couldn't live without his spells. That was impractical, short sighted and the way a spoiled brat of a man worked. No doubt if he had to rely on his fists more, he would have seen the stream as something to take advantage of and used it, rather than falling into Gajeel's trap.

Hah. At least one thing had gone Gajeel's way.

Mostly.

Kind of.

Look, Gajeel might hate the man and the things he seemed to stand for, but Freed wasn't bad looking. And Gajeel was just a man, who had been stripped to the waist with Freed in the same state of undress, wrestling one another. He was bound to get distracted for a moment. Thankfully, Freed's nasty kick to the balls and the ensuing tantrum after had quickly quelled any growing interest.

Gajeel knew what he had to do today, though. Because if he was going to fight with Freed at the end of the week, he needed to respect the man. He wasn't going to respect Freed if he couldn't take a defeat, and if he couldn't handle himself without his magic. So today, Freed was going to prove he had the ability to back up his words.

Okay, it was a tenuous reason for what he had planned, but fuck it. Fuck Freed too.

It was tempting to wake the prick up by dumping some of the water Gajeel had gathered over his sleeping face - a nice little reminder of how the fight had ended - but he decided against it. He needed to have everything prepared before he woke up, so it would be better to check that everything was in place. That, and Freed apparently snored a little when he was sleeping, and Gajeel certainly didn't want to interrupt the possible blackmail that could come from it.

And perhaps it was nice to have something cut through the silence of the forest.

Gajeel had trained in this forest many times, and as such had come to know how to utilise it's assets. He wandered slowly, blinking away the sleep in his eyes, and eventually found what he was looking for. A large tree that had fallen down years ago, and stumbled down a hill. What remained was a leafless trunk at the bottom of a steep incline, perfect for strength training.

Next, he walked to the largest upstanding tree within reasonable walking distance. Gajeel had often climbed this tree to push his agility and upper body strength, and it was the perfect way to test Freed's practical skills. The tree was still standing tall, the branches Gajeel used to climb still attached. Perfect, no excuses for when Freed fucked up.

When he got to the lake, Gajeel grinned a little. The morning was cold and the water would be freezing, the worst temperature to take a swim in. Normally Gajeel would have hated to swim in weather like this, but it would certainly be a nice wake-up call for the spoiled little Prince.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun. For Gajeel anyway.

——

"I think yesterday proved pretty damp conclusively that you're out of luck if you don't have your magic," Gajeel said with crossed arms, looking down at Freed. "So, today I'm gonna teach you a couple techniques that'll come in handy when you're in a situation where you can't spell yourself out of trouble."

Freed clearly wanted to make a comment, but held his tongue. He was learning, huh.

When Gajeel had returned from his check of the forest, Freed had woken up, set up a new fire and was using the rest of the fish (and a few berries that he had picked) to make them both a breakfast. Gajeel had wanted to reject it out of hand, but it had smelt great and if it was anywhere near as good as his meal the day before, refusing it would be a mistake. It had tasted amazing, so Gajeel had huffed out a thanks and gave a short nod of thanks.

Soon after that, Gajeel had motioned for Freed to follow him. Freed had done so without complaint - Gajeel couldn't prove it, but liked to think it was because the asshole was too embarrassed after his loss - and allowed himself to be led down the stream, towards the lake.

"You've got wings right, when you use yer magic?" Gajeel asked. "So yer probably gonna use 'em to get over every little thing, right?"

"Like you do with your little cat friend, I expect," Freed commented, and Gajeel stiffened slightly. Freed noticed and smirked a little. "My apologies, I interrupted you. Please, go on."

"Don't need yer permission," Gajeel grunted, more to himself than to the man standing before him. "But if yer using yer wings as much as I think you are, you ain't ready to deal with terrain that ain't easy to walk through. So, if this week's about improving then this is gonna help you get over that flaw. We run from here towards the lake, taking us through forested ground which ain't even and ain't safe, and then we swim from one side of the lake to the other."

"So it's a race then?" Freed asked, annoyingly not intimidated by the proposition.

"If you want," Gajeel shrugged. "But I ain't got a prize or anythin'. Definitely not one for participation, like yer probably used to."

Freed rolled his eyes at that, but didn't ride to the bait. Instead, he said, "Perhaps when I win, you'll cook for once."

"You ain't gonna win," Gajeel claimed.

"We'll see," Freed hummed a little, far too smug for his own good.

"Stretch up," Gajeel muttered, even though he wanted to push the man further, maybe even see if he could add an actual forfeit for losing, something to really make the fucker squirm. But, well, Gajeel didn't know for sure he would win, so couldn't risk things just in case.

Just as Gajeel went to start stretching his calves, he heard the sound of ruffling fabric and frowned. He ignored it for a moment as he felt the gentle burn of his muscles working, but caught sight of Freed's white - now dirt stained and crumpled - shirt now hanging over the branch of a nearby tree. With slightly furrowed brows, he turned towards Freed to demand an explanation, only to see him kicking off his pants and placing them right next to his shirt, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. His tight and eye-catching boxer-briefs.

Before the thoughts could even form about how Freed was wearing his underwear to perfection, Gajeel forced his memory back to the night before. About how he'd acted and how he had tried to make Gajeel feel like crap just to feed his own ego.

Freed had lost a wrestling match, and had thrown a fit about it. Gajeel couldn't respect a man like that, and he couldn't find a guy hot if he didn't respect him.

"The hell are you doing?" Gajeel demanded.

"If we're going to swim, then I'd rather not get my only set of clothes wet when it could be avoided," Freed explained, and Gajeel was momentarily thankful that he didn't look ready to remove his boxers. He couldn't think like that, so spoke again.

"Cause you can't stand a bit of discomfort, right?" Gajeel grumbled.

"No, I just don't see the point of making things worse for myself to prove a point," Freed looked pointedly towards Gajeel when he said that. "The water is clearly going to be cold and the weather doesn't look like it'll improve, meaning it'll be a struggle to dry ourselves already. The fire can only do so much, and we'll either have to lounge around in wet clothes out of stubbornness, or remove them and wait for them to dry while we ourselves get dry. That extends the time we'll be cold, making us both uncomfortable and wasting time before whatever inane task you've got next. That, coupled with the fact that this is flu season, seems like good enough justification for avoiding a stupid problem."

Gajeel could hardly argue the point, so instead he mumbled, "We ain't gonna be lounging around."

"What an astute and well thought out argument," Freed deadpanned, and Gajeel wanted to punch him again. He didn't, instead averting his eyes as Freed started to stretch his arms. "Nobody is forcing you to do the same if you're shy, Mister Redbox. To me it just feels like the reasonable course of actions."

Rather than speaking, Gajeel turned his back. He also removed his shirt and boots; but he wasn't getting half naked like the pervert next to him.

Calling him a pervert was maybe a stretch.

He pushed back that thought, as well as the thoughts of how damn good Freed's ass looked in those boxers - Gajeel was only a man, and he couldn't deny what he saw - and instead got himself into line with Freed. The race is what he should have been focusing on, not the fact that Freed didn't look half bad when he was taken away from his pampered and luxurious sheen. Tangled hair and the odd spec of dirt really did wonders for the pretty-boy.

The race. Focus on the race. And the fact the guy couldn't deal with a loss.

"Ready?" Gajeel asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Go."

He lurched forward before he could think, sprinting through the undergrowth of the the forest as he ran towards the lake. Years of guild work in places like this had allowed for the perfection of running through the forest; you kept alternating your gaze between the ground and on the trees.

Usually he would have turned his skin to iron so he wouldn't have to focus on the branches in his way, but he was trying to prove a point. He winced a little as a sharp end to a twig scraped against his cheek, far too close to his eye, but didn't let it stop his pace. He could hear Freed's breathing very close behind him, so evidently Freed knew how to run through a forest as well as Gajeel did, so he couldn't let up for a moment.

When they were out of the forest, there was a short run towards the lake with more space than there had been in the forest. Gajeel forced himself to run as fast as he could, not wanting to let Freed overtake him now he had the width to do so. And not having a view of the man's body might-

The race. The way he'd acted the night before. Focus dammit!

If telling himself wasn't enough to cut off his libido, the face first plunge into freezing, dirty water certainly did. He let out a shuddering gasp when his head broke the surface, but couldn't allow the ice-cold water to stop him. He quickly started to swim, smirking a little when he realised he still had the lead.

The smirk died when Freed overtook him pretty damn quickly.

Gajeel saw nothing but ripples of water ahead of him, and gritted his teeth as he tried to speed up. He was a man built to brute force his way through a problem, while Freed was apparently more agile. He should have expected that, but he had wanted to leave Freed in the dust during the run so it wouldn't be an issue.

All he could do now was swim to the other shore of the lake, pissed off.

When he reached the end of the lake, he saw Freed resting on one of the large boulders that made up the shoreline. He was panting, soaking wet and still wearing those fuckimg boxers. When he saw Gajeel haul himself up from the water, he looked towards him and smirked.

"That didn't end up how you wanted, did it?"

"Shut up," Gajeel snarled. "Get yer clothes, we've got a busy day."

When Freed laughed, Gajeel nearly pushed him into the lake again.

——

"So, you think ya can beat that?"

Gajeel had more than got his confidence back now, and he was smirking at Freed with his arms flexed intentionally.

Both he and Freed were stood at the bottom of a steep hill, where the dead tree-truck sat. Gajeel had explained this challenge; they would both have to push the tree-truck up the hill as far as they could. The justification for this exercise was that Freed might one day find himself in a situation where he was trapped without his magic and needed to force his way out with his strength alone, and the exercise was meant to simulate that. Freed clearly saw that Gajeel just wanted to push his limits, but he didn't say anything.

This was the last task of the day. They'd already attempted the tree climbing that Gajeel had planned, and Freed had been obnoxiously good at it. Gajeel had been faster, but they both knew that he had a natural advantage because he'd had practice. Gajeel could hardly boast about being slightly better then Freed at something he had done many times and Freed was new to.

Gajeel had just finished his attempt at pushing the trunk, and was fucking delighted when he saw he'd beaten his own personal record. This was how he would regain his control over things.

Freed didn't stand a chance.

"I'm sure I'll be a worthy contender," Freed stated, walking towards the tree-trunk. "Which is a feat, I expect, given that you've clearly been setting me up for failure from the beginning."

"Maybe if you weren't so predictable then I wouldn't have been able to plan things out so well," Gajeel grunted.

"So you predicted that, in everything other than tasks that relied solely on physical strength, I have exceeded your expectations and beaten you in completion, I suppose?" Freed taunted quietly as he positioned himself against the tree-trunk. "I expect you did all of this simply to prove your inferiority."

"Inferiority?" Gajeel scoffed. "You ain't done anything but bitch about this because it's not going yer way."

"Not going my way?" Freed laughed, turning from the log and looking at Gajeel again. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"All you've done is make yer little comments about how you don't think it's fair," Gajeel challenged, taking a step forward and glaring the other man down. "And when ya lose, you throw a tantrum."

"I throw tantrums," Freed demanded, sounding equal parts exasperated and annoyed. "As opposed to you, who has been acting perfectly rational throughout this? It hasn't escaped my attention that you clearly see Makarov's initiative as some sort of personal affront to you, and you have apparently seen it fair to force all of these grievances onto me. So for you, a man who has been as close to stomping his feet and wailing as his pride allows, to complain about me throwing a tantrum is practically laughable."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Gajeel took another step forward. "I'm doing this because yer clearly a spoiled little city-boy and I ain't associating myself with something who can't-"

"Can't what?" Freed snapped. "Can't make a shelter? Can't start a fire? Can't swim across a lake faster than you? Because I've done all of this despite your clear hopes otherwise. Or would you rather judge my worth as a mage by seeing me push a dead tree up a hillside, or to wrestle you without the weapon I use nor the magic I wield? Because, Mr Redfox, if you need to force such strict parameters to best me and you consistently lose, then perhaps your plan isn't a good one."

Fuck, he wanted to punch the guy. Fully encase his fists in iron and beat the shit out of the guy. It would be damn satisfying to see the guy knocked out, while the smugness straight out of him.

"Nothing to say?" Freed continued, a patronising look on his face.

"Fuck off," Gajeel growler, turning around and going to walk away. Before he could take a step, a wall of glowing runes shot up in front of him, blocking his exit. He turned to Freed with an expression of fury. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You," Freed snapped, and magic seemed to emanate from him.

He looked feral in that moment, with all the shields of fancy clothes and smart ass words replaced by anger and magic. His shirt was billowing in the magic induced winds, and the glare on his face was accentuated by the purple swirling in his eye. Fuck, he looked like a man on the edge and it shot straight to Gajeel's dick. Freed was a gentleman gone wild, and if that wasn't one of Gajeel's most well-buried fantasies then he didn't know what was.

The expression was gone as quickly as it came, and the magic swarming Freed's eye fell away. For a moment, Freed looked worried, but he was talking again before Gajeel could understand why he looked like that.

"Neither of us are happy about this, but at the end of the week we have to fight side by side, and the biggest issue we have right now is that we can't stand one another," Freed seemed more calm now, as if the bubble of anger had burst. What the hell had caused that? "So, either you plan something that might make us work together, or at least respect one another, or we both stop trying and say to hell with the consequences."

Gajeel didn't say anything. It felt like the rug had been pulled from under him.

Suddenly, a wave of shitty realisation hit him. Freed had a point when he said he was taking his anger out on him, when he really just didn't want to do the damn training thing at all. He wasn't being fair.

"I think that's enough," Freed sighed. "I'll gather my things and go home. You needn't contact me again."

Freed was walking away before Gajeel could react, and the walls of runes fell around them both. A horrid feeling of regret filled Gajeel, and he quickly jogged to catch up with Freed, who was clearly ignoring him. He kinda deserved it.

"Shit, Freed, wait," He placed a hand on the man's chest, and Freed glared at him. "Yer right, I ain't been fair," It wasn't a fun thing to admit. "I had some ideas about who you were, and didn't wanna let ya prove me wrong, even when you were kicking my ass," He sighed. "And yer right about me wanting to fuck you over, that's why I did this shit, and it wasn't right. That was shitty of me."

"Well, I can hardly blame you for judging me. We were both guilty of that," Freed admitted. "And thank you for admitting that. But I don't see how we could suddenly become a cohesive, effective team, we're hardly compatible."

Gajeel sighed, Freed had a point.

But if a Fairy Tail mage was good at anything, they were good at being stubborn.

"What if we have a fight?" Gajeel proposed, and Freed frowned at him. "Talking like this ain't gonna get rid of the attitude we have for each other, right? You're still pissed at me, and you said some things that made me wanna sock a punch in yer jaw. Maybe having the chance to beat the shit outta each other might break through the attitude problems we have."

"That's not too bad an idea," Freed admitted, glancing at the evening sky for a moment. "It would be cathartic to make you scream."

"Buy me dinner first, city-boy," Gajeel teased before he could think. Freed all but gaped at him, and Gajeel was speaking to fill the silence before he could stop himself. "Y'know, I ain't ever seen you fight before. Don't know how you work."

"Then I have the advantage," Freed grinned slightly. "And you're voluntarily giving it to me. Perhaps you really are repentant."

"Nah, just wanna kick yer ass without you having an excuse."

"We'll see," Freed smirked, and Gajeel found himself grinning back.

[stanbillyhargrove]

Ghosts chp 12

Billy x Katrina

A/N: this is a multi chapter series that will contain smut, angst, fluff, substance abuse

Billy's POV

We were in a dark room in the triplet's basement, a large circle of crystals, flowers and herbs to one side with Katrina in the middle of it. Stacks of candles cast a flickering orange glow through the through the room. It was almost romantic.

Except Katrina was standing frozen in the circle, arms hanging limply by her sides when she had been talking just moments before. Audrey held her hands up, motioning for us all to stay quiet while we waited. After too many tense seconds, Katrina's eyes fluttered open again and a bright smile crossed her face.

"Are you Olivia?" Audrey asked, lowering her arms a little.

She turned to look at Audrey, the voice that came out was a mix of Katrina's and one a little wispier, "yes, my dear."

My knees buckled when I tried to step closer and I stumbled into the circle to be caught by Katrina.

"Careful," she murmured, her hands sliding up and down my arms gently.

I gulped, my mouth suddenly going dry.

"Come on," Audrey whispered to the others, "let's give them some time."

She ushered Steve and her sisters out of the room, giving me a small smile and a nod when she passed me and then I was alone with her.

My mom.

She looked a little confused when she cupped my face in her hand, "so handsome," she whispered, gently stroking my cheek, "just like my baby would have been."

I choked, feeling a punch to my gut, heart breaking all over again, "Don't you remember?"

Her eyebrows scrunched together for a moment when she closed her eyes and gave her head a little shake. When she opened her eyes again they were glassy with tears.

"Oh, baby. My Billy," she murmured, her voice hitching a little, "you're all grown up."

My face crumpled a little, tears spilling down my cheeks, "m-mom.."

"Sweet boy," she soothed, pulling me down and wrapping her arms around me, "it's okay baby, I'm here."

I buried my face in her shoulder, my hands twisting tight in her shirt as I sobbed and choked out, "momma.."

A soft hand ran through my hair as she shushed me. She held onto me, quietly soothing me as I let out twenty years of hurt and heart ache.

"I-I'm sorry," I choked, "I'm so sorry, mom."

"Oh sweetheart, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault, not once. You were perfect."

"I...I wasn't...I'm not.."

She pulled my face out of her shoulder to look at me, "you were, baby, you are."

I looked down, "I'm not...I hurt people, mom...I was so angry. I hated everyone...I hated you for leaving me. Leaving me with him."

Her thumb stroked my cheek, a sad smile on her face, "I know, baby. And that's okay, it's okay to be angry with me. I shouldn't have left you with him, I understand."

"But, I don't hate you, I don't. I just missed you so much and he got so, so much worse after you...and...I'm scared, mom."

"Scared of what, baby?"

"Of him. Of filling up with hate and anger and ending up just like him. That he's in me and I can't escape it."

She hummed, "that'll never happen, you know why?"

"Why?" I sniffed.

"You're too much like me," she smiled, "your heart is good, you won't let yourself be like him."

I smiled at her, feeling warmth spread through my chest.

"I love you, mom," I murmured.

"I love you too, baby," she cooed, pulling me forward to press a gentle kiss to my forehead before collapsing in my arms.

I rushed to catch her, slowly lowering her to the ground, "oh fuck, hey! Mom? Katrina?"

Nothing. No noise, no movement, she was completely limp like a doll.

"Help!" I yelled, "guys!"

They came running back into the room, led by Audrey asking, "what, what happened?"

"She just collapsed!"

"Get out of the circle, Billy, now."

I scrambled out of the circle, kneeling next to it to look at my girlfriend sprawled out on the floor. She had started to twitch, her eyes moving rapidly behind her eyelids and her breathing quick and shallow.

"Katrina?"

Steve swallowed thickly, "what's going on?"

Audrey shook her head, "I-I don't know."

Riley stared at Katrina's collapsed frame, mouth agape as she held Brooke's hand tightly.

"Something went wrong," Brooke murmured.

"Fucking obviously!" I shouted.

"Hey!" Audrey shouted back, "we warned you something could happen!"

She glared back at me, daring me to challenge her again.

I growled, returning my focus to Katrina, "Babe? Hey, you with us?"

Her eyebrows twitched, knitting together as a groan left her lips. I inched closer to her, stretching my hand into the circle to cup her face and swipe my thumb across her cheek.

"Katrina?" I leaned in close to her, "Katrina?"

"Yesss," she hissed out, her voice coming out broken, wrong.

I glanced back at Steve and the girls, horror plain on their faces and turned back to see Katrina opening her eyes.

"Katrina?"

"Guess again."

I scrambled back, putting some distance between us as she slowly sat up, her head cocked to the side.

Audrey was the first to step forward, her face steely and fierce as she put herself between Katrina and her sisters.

"Who are you?"

Katrina's head jerked to look at Audrey and I saw the muscle jump in Audrey's jaw. Suddenly Katrina was up and throwing herself forward only to hit the edge of the circle and be thrown back to the floor, groaning. Steve and I immediately moved towards her only to be stopped by Brooke and Riley.

"You boys should leave," Brooke murmured, her small hand firm on my shoulder.

Steve made a noise in protest but was silenced by Riley.

"She's right. Go get some rest, we'll sort this out."

I hesitated but one look at Audrey's face and the barely hidden fear in her eyes had me grabbing Steve and retreating back upstairs.

--

It was hours later when Audrey, Brooke and Riley made their way upstairs. Steve and I were sitting at the island in the kitchen, cups of now cold, untouched tea sitting in front of us. Riley crossed the kitchen hurriedly to find comfort in Steve's arms. He tucked her under his chin, slid his hand up and down her back and looked over at Brooke and Audrey with an eyebrow raised.

"Where is she?" I asked.

Brooke sagged against the counter, "downstairs. We think she'll be okay in the morning."

"You think?"

Audrey pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed, "yes. We think."

"What happened?" Steve asked.

"Something bad came through when she was channeling your mother. We think we chased it out but we don't know for sure yet."

I stared at her incredulously, "so she's possessed?"

Brooke waved her hand, "maybe."

"And what do we do if she is?" Steve murmured.

Riley sighed, "we don't know."

I cocked an eyebrow at Audrey before she started to explain, "we tried everything that we know. If the spirit isn't gone we'll have to ask around for help."

"Seriously?" I groaned, "how fucking long will that take?"

Audrey glared at me, looking like she was ready to throw punches, "it could take a while. Not many of us deal with possession."

I nodded, sighing heavily as I leaned on the counter, "so we wait until the morning?"

Audrey hummed in affirmation, "we try to get some sleep and see what happens tomorrow."

Steve stood up, picking Riley up as he did so she was tucked against his chest, said a quick goodnight and carried her out of the kitchen. Audrey and I shared a look as they disappeared.

"They got close pretty quick."

She shook her head, "just a crush. When you leave she'll forget about him."

"Maybe," I murmured before I also made my way upstairs to the room that Katrina and I had been sharing.

I shucked off my clothes and climbed into the bed, pulling Katrina's pillow close to me. I could smell the sweet notes of her shampoo in the fabric and buried my face in it for a restless night of sleep.

--

I came down to the kitchen in the morning to see Steve sitting at the kitchen table with Riley perched on his knee. They were both nursing steaming cups of coffee and gently talking to each other. I cleared my throat, making Riley jump and Steve look up at me.

"Morning," I smirked.

"Morning."

"Audrey awake yet?"

Riley sipped her coffee before answering, "I think so, she hasn't come down yet though. Brooke's awake, just got out of the shower. Oh," she added, pointing at a plate of scones, "I made breakfast."

"When did you have time to do that?"

"I couldn't sleep much," she explained, "got up early and started baking."

I nodded, crossing the kitchen to fix myself a cup of coffee and grab one of the chocolatey pastries. Everything about this felt weird, mundane, like Katrina wasn't locked in the basement against her will.

I was about to take my first sip of coffee when Audrey and Brooke made their way downstairs. Audrey had piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun and had dark bags under her eyes like she hadn't slept at all last night. She took one look at the near empty coffee pot and groaned.

I lowered my cup from my lips and stretched my arm out towards her, "peace offering? I can wait for a new pot."

She cocked an eyebrow at me but took the cup, stirred in more sugar and sipped, "maybe you're not such an asshole after all."

--

"Hello? Billy? Steve?" Katrina's small voice broke the silence when we opened the basement door, "anyone?"

"Katrina?" I answered, none of us moving from the door yet, "are you okay?"

She let out a watery laugh, "aside from being locked in a fucking basement."

Audrey slowly led us down into the basement and to the door of Katrina's room, "do you remember last night, Katrina?"

"Yeah, well...I remember letting Olivia in and then waking up here, alone."

I stepped forward to grab the door handle only to have Audrey grab my wrist. She looked over to meet my gaze, her face set and clenched.

"Audrey," I started.

"What if she's not her?" She argued.

"We won't know until we know," Brooke spoke softly, trying to reason with Audrey, "but we can't keep her locked up."

We were all quiet for a moment, waiting for Audrey to move.

"Please," Katrina's voice hitched, like she was about to break, "please don't leave me here."

Audrey huffed and removed her hand from my arm, "fine. But someone needs to be with her at all times until we know."

I nodded and unlocked the door to push it open, revealing Katrina sitting on a bed that looked unslept in. She looked up at us, her face swollen and splotchy from crying and unfolded herself to run into my arms, choking on a sob as she buried her face in my chest. I looked around at everyone as I held her and squeezed tightly when Audrey mouthed 'at all times' at me.

@charmed-asylum @champagnesugamama @alias-b

[mcpart]

Real Life Top 10 (With Apologies to Greil Marcus)

July 2019

1. The Stranglers - Black and White (A&M Records, Vinyl 1978) - Somehow missed this album for 41 years. Soundtrack to the Circus. Meditations on technology, the rise of the robots, aliens, the nature of time, militarization, Europe's imminent collapse. Nice and sleazy does it.

2. Years and Years (BBC/HBO 2019) Not perfect by any means but extremely moving, engrossing, thought provoking and, better yet, provoking provoking in a time when no one seems to want to really question the fascist elephant taking up much of the room. For some reason it seems to be making absolutely no impact culturally on this side of the pond, which is disturbing in itself.

3. Batman by Tom King (2017-2019 DC Comics) - Hated this at first but eventually you fall into the odd rhythm of King's screenplay-like writing and his handling of the Batman/Catwoman romance. This odd seventy-something issue run is ending soon. History will likely judge it higher than the bloodthirsty fanboys tired of King's low key take on romance, marriage, mortality.

4. 30 Rock (Hulu) - A show whose strengths become much more apparent while binge watching one after another, better to catch its in-jokes, call backs, manic pace and just let it wash over you. Now on my classic sitcom list.

5. Weyes Blood - Titanic Rising (Sub Pop Records, 2019) - Drawn in by the clever teen slasher flick parody video, I stayed for the Jimmy Webb meets Laurel Canyon singer/songwriting chops and the way she completely encapsulates a moment in time when no one has any idea what could possibly happen next.

6. Alien Information Theory: Psychedelic Drug Technologies and the Cosmic Game by Andrew R. Gallimore (Strange Worlds Press, 2019) Gallimore tries to crack the source code of life and explain the final round - the ability to use technology and DMT to elevate your consciousness to achieve immortality in another dimension and leave your physical body behind. You go first, Andy.

7. The First Democratic Debates (NBC) Further proof, if necessary, that Elizabeth Warren, your goofy, wonky high school social studies teacher, is the only sane way forward out of this mess.

8. Big Thief - U.F.O.F. (4AD, 2019) - Takes a while to get under your skin but once it does it smells like a hot, humid, summer night where the stars are out and the grass felts wet under your bare feet while you chase fireflies with faulty, flickering, flashlights.

9. Begin the Begin: R.E.M.'S Early Years by Robert Dean Lurie (Verse Chorus Press, 2019) - A little too much of the twin curses of entertainment biography - too much time spent on formative years (1/3 of the book gone before their first single) and too many personal anecdotes unrelated to the subject at hand (comparing your University of Georgia experience ten years after the band's is not particularly engrossing). But there are many info nuggets and insights here into the magical mystery of early R.E.M. - the mumble jangle years - and the reasons why it didn't and couldn't last post-Green and multi platinum success.

10. Viral Videos by The Dodo - It may all ultimately be part of some kind of social engineering experiment, but watching all these dogs and cats and sheep and chickens all becoming the best of friends makes me think at least Big Brother has some semblance of a heart.

[acthebonboss-blog]

Hiding in Plain Sight

Post-traumatic Stress. Ain’t no thang but a chicken wang-I wish. 

I have been agonizing whether I should publish an entry as raw, honest, and detailed as this because I fear I will be judged angry, bitter, vengeful. I decided I cannot worry about those things anymore. I have been protecting people in our situation, but they do not extend the same. Being true and raw has always been the most helpful and I teach Sami the same.

I took this definition offline...

“Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.”

*I acknowledge this blog is written from my perspective.*

I was prompted to write this when I was trigged, yet again, this time by a photo on FB I saw of my ex-husband’s family on Christmas eve and his GF who was his mistress who was my friend. (I introduced them in October 2016 on I trip to the Bahamas. She was a work friend). This was a photo I happened to see after I bandaged Sami’s fingers. I realized she has been biting and rubbing the skin off her fingertips until they bleed. She has her own ways of coping. After seeing the photo, I had heightened anxiety, racing and paranoid thoughts, and could not sleep all night, among other things. These are the types of things we deal with frequently. These are the type of these many people deal with due to trauma/loss. 

There are many types of trauma-physical, mental, emotional, ongoing, a combination of the things I listed.

Although, I teach Sami the practice of joy and gratitude and it is abundant in our home; we both cope with copious amounts of ongoing trauma/grief. I often feel like we are invisible to our community. People are so quick to dismiss, “it’s been over a year.” Oh cool, didn’t realize there was an expiration date on grief. “Well, you are remarried and have him now.” Oh cool, I didn't realize having a new man would fix all of our previous problems. Yay!” “Sami won’t remember any of this, good thing this all happened when she was so young.” Don’t even get me started on that comment. By the way, most people who say these are comments are the ones who engage me over this topic first, and then want me to say something to make them feel better about my life. I FEEL INVISIBLE. WE ARE SUFFERING. Please allow us to walk through this process the way we need to.

People have difficulty with negative and raw emotions. People have difficulty with allowing others the space and time to grieve. Most people do not work through things in a healthy fashion. They shove down, numb, avoid. They expect others to do the same-to just move on. It is an epidemic in our culture and society. They judge the people who do grieve. Who cares, give people the space. Ask yourself, why does it make you feel so uncomfortable when someone else is experiencing their feelings?

When my ex-husband told me he was leaving me and he wanted a divorce, it took me a while to wrap my heart and mind around that. Once I started the acceptance process, some people couldn't handle my grievance process. I had to stand on the edge of a metaphorical cliff and stare despair in the face for a little bit so I could figure out how to accept our new life. I had to go to bat with God. I experienced judgement and more loss. I didn't expect it. It was killer and devastated me further. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. People didn’t know how to be so they bounced, or tried to fix, or judged. I understand better now and am starting to look back with empathy and forgiveness, but when you are in it, it is hard and it is traumatic.

Daily, I am asked, “why did my daddy leave?” “Why do I have to have two houses?” All great questions that I am trying to figure out how to answers age appropriately, and in a way that doesn’t harm her relationship with her dad. It’s a struggle. She is insecure about her relationships now more than ever, which can be typical for her age, but was not an issue until he walked out the door one day and did not come back. She asks Seth regularly if he is going to leave us. Some mornings she wakes up joyful and some mornings she says she is sad and does not like her life. She is four.

The people I feel we are most invisible too are the people who count the most in her life; her father, his GF, her paternal grandparents. Watching your child suffer, have to engage in such an unhealthy situation (this is my judgement) is distressing. I have been told multiple times that my ex-mother in law tells people in the community I made my ex-husband have an affair and that my business ruined our marriage. That is an interesting concept. Sami told me that my ex-mother in law doesn’t like me. She is four years old and can feel these things already. It is worrisome. It is perpetual trauma and stress for her. I try to reason with my ex-husband about my concerns and he just cannot hear me. The shame and guilt he feels and because it is me saying these things distracts him from what is most important (my assessment). It seriously sucks. We are invisible. I feel like we are standing in a sound proof glass box with fake smiles sewn on and we are screaming on the top of our lungs. It feel like the real Sami has been kidnapped and she is just beyond our reach. 

The situation is multi-layered. There are the struggles I deal with amicably co-parenting while still advocating for the mental/emotional well-being of my daughter and myself, and controlling my remaining hurt feelings.  I want to honor Sami by always speaking well of her father and creating love around him (which I do), but I have to balance making sure Sami’s emotional well-being comes first. 

Then, I have to face the possibility that I may get the pleasure of running into this woman at work training events. This sends me into an awesome spiral for days depending on the timing of the event. The betrayal of the situation is pretty significant because some people knew he was engaging her the second time while we were in counseling and they chose to withhold the information from me. That really messed me up. I have not recovered from that. I have forgiven, but cannot figure out how to reconcile that part. Integrity and trust is huge for me. So I often feel anxious or protective when I know I have to see those people or engage them on any level. Mistrust is still being perpetuated with periodic interactions around all of this and other expectations. I want to shrink away and make myself unseen- camouflage please.

My and Sami’s life will never be the same. It has been battered, bruised, shaken, and turned upside down-and it hasn’t stopped. I am different. She is different. Her dad is different. The other woman is different. Our families and friends are different. We have been turned inside out. I am currently a watered down version of the woman I once was. I’m sure I will find the new version of her again one day. My faith is being rocked-it is there and I am clinging, but wow, I am hanging on by a thread. Some days we do not leave the house because it is the only place that feels safe. I know that sounds weird, but you have to experience something similar to understand. I have never understood until now.

So 14 months later and it is all just as raw and just as hard, some of it even harder. I have complicated it and stabilized it with my new marriage and Ive said enough about the contribution of Sami’s dad.  This is where we are. This is the process. It is ongoing. I share because so many people have “a story” like this and they suffer silently to make other people feel a little more comfortable or because they feel ashamed. Sami and I will not live in shame any longer. This is our story, and we own it.

“Trauma permanently changes us. 

This is the big scary truth about trauma: there is no such thing as “getting over it.” The five stages of grief model marks universal stages in learning to accept loss, but the reality is in fact much bigger: a major life disruption leaves a new normal in its wake. You are different now, full stop.

This is not a wholly negative thing. healing from trauma can also mean finding new strength and joy. the goal of healing is not a papering-over of changes in an effort to preserve or present things as normal. It is to acknowledge and wear you new life-warts, wisdom, and all- with courage. - Catherine Woodlwiss

Photo credit to Mallory Smith

[fanficparker]

A GAME OF DIAMONDS AND HEARTS // H.O.

>> CHAPTER FOUR

“The life that you seek you shall never find. For when the Gods made man, They kept immortality to themselves.” - The Epic of Gilgamesh

(Frenemies to Lovers! Mob AU! ) Harrison Osterfield x Fem!OC

Word count: 2.47k words

Warning: Swearing, knives, anger issues, guns, handcuffs, kidnapping (kind of?), Harrison Osterfield (Yeah, that's a legit warning)

Synopsis: After the sudden death of his uncle and the eccentric multi-millionaire mafia king Lufian Clarke, Harrison Osterfield’s almost decent life is mostly devastated especially when half of what should be rightfully his fortune is transferred to their immediate rival for reasons he doesn’t know. What’s remaining is him trying to figure out how to deal with this collaboration of two rival corporations that don’t belong together and work on the side of the woman he never knew would ever be referred to as his partner in crime while they are dragged into a mess bigger than what they were trained to handle.

<< THREE [ MASTERLIST ] FIVE >>

Sandhya parked the car at the rear side of an autobody workshop next to a white pickup truck that resembled closer to junk than any actual mode of transportation. It was past ten when she pulled there, and the three people Harrison spotted in the shop were on their way to shut it down for the night's call. He had managed to keep a careful eye at what turns she took as the roads forked or what landmarks she crossed on her way, only to achieve practically nothing. He was a stranger to this place and she being the wicked witch she was, had driven in circles so many times that he was sure, she had managed to complicate the path for him in manners that his head failed to unravel.

"We are here, homies." She announced, yawning at the last part, tapping her palm over the dashboard, tugging the keys from the ignition and then pulling the hand brakes.

Kevin groaned, shuffling in his seat, eyes half-lidded, voice groggy with sleep. The women sitting beside him plucked off her earphones, shutting her laptop. Harrison, on the other hand, chose to inspect the unfamiliar surrounding in the comfort of the car, eyes sceptical and narrowing. He ignored the thud of car doors opening and closing only to be disturbed by a sharp noise of metal keys hitting the window on the other side.

He squirmed at the unpleasant sound and turned to look at the intruder as she leaned across from him, on the opposite side of the car, the neon signboard of the car workshop flashing red light over her face. She looked like an angel from hell.

"Are you moving out? Or should I rather lock you up here?"

Harrison tamped down the urge to roll his eyes and stepped precariously out of the car, rolling up his sleeves and buttoning them near his elbows. He followed the three people as they walk down a slope that connected to an underground parking lot. There were a few cars and motorbikes parked there, most seemed to be in a dire need of repair. It took him roughly two minutes to figure out that it was no underground parking. It was a whole ass hideout disguised on the front with unused motors. They walked into a narrow alleyway, passing through several closed doors of what he assumed were rooms to a living area attached to a kitchen. It wasn't well furnished but furnished enough for a stay. Gray unpainted walls, sofas, tables and chairs, fridge, microwave, a small but flattering shelf full of wine bottles and a CCTV monitor to the top corner that covered the outside of their hideout, all the necessities one needs to survive.

"Hey, we will need your phone and your watch." The other woman he didn't know the name of yet, matched his pace, her laptop tucked below her arm, her green hair shorter than his with a cool undercut to the sides. She looked equally chill and nerdy in her baggy checked shirt, a mixture foreign to him.

He paused on his way, casting her a scathing glare, a bored look wiping over his face the next instant, "And why would I give you that?"

"Because Holly needs to encrypt them," Sandhya replied for her, standing beside the taller girl.

"So that it isn't traceable." Holly reluctantly but quickly added. She was younger than them, probably around Harry's age. Harrison could feel an undercurrent of fear floating through her voice.

"Thank you very much, but..." Harrison replied, not missing a beat, shooting a bitter smile at Sandhya before facing Holly, uttering: "No," his lips forming a proper 'o' as he took a step away only to be stopped by Sandhya's hand grabbing his wrist.

"It's not a choice, Harrison." She asserted.

An order.

Something sour lathered at the back of his tongue. A vein in his forehead twisted. Anger? Resentment? Malice? You just name it. He felt all of them at once.

He jerked away from her grip, releasing his arm. When he turned to face Sandhya again, his entire aspect had changed. His shoulders were square and broad, posture imposing, features stone, eyes icicles. They exchanged a long, threatening glare, eyes never wavering. He took a step ahead, expecting her to step back but she didn't recoil, holding her ground. She had the sort of personality you associate stereotypes with: high cheekbones, tall stature, sharp features but she somehow managed to defy most of them. Without her heels and now wearing some flat running shoes, she barely reached his chin, there was something warm about the softness of her features hidden beneath her belligerent attitude. The little baby fat her genetics had blessed over her face, provided her preys with false hopes of mercy. Betrayal at its finest.

He looked down at her and she looked up at him, their shoes bumping, faces inches apart. Realisation ticks through her mind when she looked a second deeper into his eyes.

He was, perhaps, stalling.

Her neck snapped to the monitor embedded at the top corner of the living space.

Shit.

A car had stopped outside their hideout and two armed men emerged from the car, strolling towards the basement.

She identified one of the men. His men.

"Look ou--" She tried to yell but Harrison didn't allow even an ounce of air to escape from her lungs. He'd grabbed her shoulders swiftly, taking advantage of her diverted attention, squeezing her shoulder blades and twisting her body. Her back flushed against his chest.

Both Kevin and Holly grabbed their pistols, the clicking sound of safety pins dropping echoed in the enclosed space. They pointed the weapon at Harrison but he already had a pocket knife pointed at Sandhya's throat while his other arm was pressed beneath her neck, holding her still.

"Keep your guns down or this floor would bathe in her blood." He warned, poking the tip of the knife into her skin, eyes focused on the pistols.

Kevin and Holly hesitated, their eyes flickering at Sandhya's face. Something passed between their eyes, some sort of permission and they threw their guns down, sliding them away from their reach.

"Hands above your head, quick." Harrison added, "And place them on the wall, face the other side."

Holly and Kevin obeyed without questioning, pressing their palms to the walls, while Harrison bent to pick up their pistols, shoving them at the back of his pants, holding Sandhya on a chokehold.

"I'd warned about your men's involvement in Clarke's murder," she whimpered when he placed the blade near her skin again, getting to his feet, "Yet you let them trace our location," she somehow managed to finish the sentence.

"You speak a lot for someone millimetres apart from dying."

"You won't kill me." She said, gritting her teeth.

"Yeah, but I can hurt you," he whispered near her ear, "And we both know how much I'd like that." His warm breath fanned over her cheek as he dug the pointy edge of the blade to the pulsing side of her neck, pressing not enough to cut her but enough to terrify her.

"Arsehole." She muttered, sucking in a breath.

"Tell me something new." His lips twisted into a devilish grin as he dragged her outside, her loose hair tickling under his chin, his arms clenched so tightly around her that she was sure she would still feel them tomorrow.

"I am telling you..." She tried to breathe and speak.

"Sssh..." Harrison interrupted with a shush, the vibrations moving through her flesh, echoing through her bones.

She tried to ignore the effect of his voice on her spine, suppressing the chilling sensation. "We are on the same team," she whispered softly and carefully as if trying to lull a toddler into handling back their parents' important work files.

"Oh well, then I should be the one giving orders."

They walked to the front of the basement. She could spot the shadowy outline of the two men waiting.

She started trying to resist, wiggling her body in his grip.

"Hey, Hey! Behave. This blade won't spare. Don't blame me."

"Let go, Harrison. Your life is on the edge!" She wiggled harder.

Edge.

He couldn't stop but laugh at the irony in the metaphor she chose.

They reached his men and she stilled in his grip. A white man, she identified as Tom (as Harrison had previously pointed out) and the other man she didn't identify was black and taller than all of them, both standing like soldiers in front of her.

"This is Tom. And this is Tuwaine," he introduced his men.

"This could be dangerous for both of us." She was almost pleading now, eyes pooling with tears of irritation and of failure.

"We don't want to kill her," Tom said, passing Harrison a pair of handcuffs.

And here she thought she had the lead.

"Why do y'll keep telling me that?" Harrison groaned at Tom's advice. He had repeated it over, even Sandhya has said the same thing, twice.

"Do I look like a psychotic killer on a killing frenzy?" He grabbed her wrists, fastening the cuffs behind her back, gripping her upper arm. "I know well who and whom I am supposed to hurt, how and where." He clarified, gently pushing her to sit on the back seat of the car. She obeyed this time, having no choice.

"It's not easy to trust you," Tuwaine added.

Harrison nodded, trying to look offended, "Thanks Tuwaine, I needed that," getting into the car, along with her, keeping a good distance between them. He snorted when she swirled her neck to the other side, refusing to look at him.

Tom settled himself on the driver's seat and Tuwaine sat beside him as the car drove off.

***

The giant gates of the mansion she'd only seen from far away opened like butterfly's wings, welcoming the car where she sat as a hostage.

"Aren't you delighted seeing this place?" Harrison asked in a tone that was closer to mockery than curiosity.

She still refused to look at him yet could hear the smirk in his voice.

"The place you won in the lottery? Or shall I say, cheated--"

"Fuck off." She interrupted but he went on like a guide, ignoring the cuss—

"The second luxurious property in England, just next to the Buckingham Palace."

She chose to ignore too. The main doors to the estate were wide open. Two women came rushing out when the car came to a halt. One of them opened Sandhya's door, pulling her out, holding her forearm, the other pulled a pistol and a knife from her dress.

"Release her," Harrison said nonchalantly, tossing the keys of the cuffs to the first woman. She unlocked the metal and Sandhya pulled her hands from the woman's grip, rubbing her fingers around her wrists.

She walked in, eyes in the front as Harrison and the crew accompanied her.

"Take her to the guest suite." He said and the same woman nodded.

Before she could grip Sandhya's arm, she moved it away, rushing to Harrison, grabbing his shirt collars with both her hands.

"I'd planned everything so intricately and you... You just ruined it all." She spoke with clenched teeth, eyes glistening with emotionless tears. "Do you--Don't understand the gravity of the situation? We are literally playing with fire." She exhaled forcefully.

He chortled.

Playing with fire?

He had committed various mistakes today, more mistakes than he could recount, more mistakes than he could afford. He had let his emotions get the best of him. He had not inspected Clarke's body, then went to beat Dino's men without even being careful of the various other dangers he could cross paths with, then chose to accompany Sandhya alone, got into a life-threatening car chase, had a sniper pointed to his head.

On top of that, he had also failed to consider the disastrous change the mafia world would go through upon the King's death. Damn, he had already played with fire and it was enough for him.

With Clarke's death: The mafia world has never been so free and so trapped. So vulnerable yet so lethal.

Harrison had discovered that for himself. He fucking knew the gravity of the situation! And that's why he chose to take matters into his own hands. He could trust nobody. Especially her.

"You really need to stop with your habit of holding collars." He held her hand in his, thumbs tracing circles over the back.

She continued to search his face, dark eyes filled with disbelief.

"We will work my way. And..." his face hardened at the conjunction, his thumbs stopped their ministrations as he squeezed her hands tighter. "And when I find your involvement in Clarke's murder, I would not hesitate to put a bullet through your skull."

She snorted this time, pulling her hands back.

"This is what you concluded? This? After everything?" She burst out into a peal of bitter laughter, the one that twisted Harrison's gut.

Her eyes hardened again as she jabbed a finger into his chest.

The next words came out as an unchecked storm out of her mouth, "The life you want, you will never get." Her words were merely whispers but worked their way through his gut, burning his chest, crawling through every fibre of his body and she never seemed to stop.

"You'll never be the next Clarke, you'll never even be half of him. Maybe," she hiccupped, "Maybe, he knew that and that's why he chose me, he chose me over you because he knew how incongruous you were."

She took a step forward, her chest pressing against his, standing on her toes, directly meeting his eyes and raising her voice beyond the point of normalcy, "How you were an insult to his legacy!" Pausing to exhale, she continued, her voice back to low, "It was a pity that he gave you half of his kingdom. You didn't even deserve that. You'll never be him. You are nothing like him."

Harrison bit back his tongue, his icy eyes burning from the lack of blinking. The mansion was dead silent, no one had dared to speak or react. He clenched his fists tight, feeling his nails digging into his palms.

"Take her to the room." He instructed, voice barely above a few decibels. He didn't wait for his words to turn to actions, rather he turned on his feet, striding towards his room, jaws tensed, nerves popping through his burning flesh.

His footsteps echoed behind him.

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…TO BE CONTINUED…

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[eryiss]

Chapter Five -  The Cut

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. Hope you enjoy it. Also, this chapter has mentions of bullying and descriptions of blood,

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Five – The Cut

Melancholy wasn't the word. It wasn't.

Freed wasn't the type of person to get melancholy, he had never been governed by his emotions at all. He didn't look back on things fondly, nor did he feel a sense of sadness when parts of his life were over. Yes, of course things did make him emotional, but he was by no means the type of person to feel sad because something was over. Life moved on quickly, and so must he. It was the rational way to live his life.

It was a mantra he found himself repeating over and over again, as he walked through the house.

The nearly finished house.

The place was by no means a model home, but it worked as it needed to. Windows had been fixed, plumbing and electricals repaired, and structure reinforced. Walls were still stripped with remnants of old-fashioned wallpaper sticking to it, and the floorboards were bare, but it was a house again. It needed love, attention, and upgrading for anyone to actually want it. But it was liveable. Exactly what Freed had wanted. So, following the logic he lived his life by, he should want to sell the place instantly and get back to Era and work on his next case. It was the next logical step, and exactly what he should be doing.

Of course, he wasn't. Because despite it being in contrast with how he'd always lived, Freed felt an odd sense of reluctance to leave. He found himself more than once hovering over the call button on Gildarts' phone number, only to return his phone to his pocket with a muttered complaint of annoyance at himself.

It was pathetic really.

He tried to rationalise it, give his feeling a pragmatic explanation. He said it was because the house was an achievement for him. Something he had done with his hands. A practical achievement that stood out to him because most of his notable work was with the mind. And why would he want to leave something like that? It was a monument to what he could do when he put his mind to it, and he was proud.

But that was a lie, he knew that. The real reason he didn't want to sell the house was because it was the only thing tying him to Magnolia. And he wasn't ready to leave it yet.

Yes, of course he didn't need to own a house to visit the town. He had gained a solid friendship with Laxus, and had gained acquaintances with Laxus' own friends, and so he could justify visiting them from time to time. But the issue lay in that he didn't really want to come back from time to time. He'd gotten used to visiting for the weekends, and he didn't want to stop.

And he couldn't do that now. Not without everyone in the gossiping village knowing why he returned. Because they would, they'd see through it like glass, and Freed wasn't able to deal with that.

He wasn't good at being embarrassed. Never had been.

There were few situations in his life where he had actually been embarrassed, something that happened by design. There had been a few unfortunate instances in his teenage years that find themselves replaying in his head on random nights. So he had made a conscious effort to avoid any situation where embarrassment might occur. It was working well, all in all, and yet this village had this effect on him that made him question the choices that had kept him sane so far.

Freed shook his head. He wasn't getting melancholy, and he certainly wasn't getting self-reflective.

It did nobody any good.

He took a small sponge and slowly wiped down the table in Albion House's kitchen. It had been there when Freed had inherited it, and after Laxus had sanded it down and polished it, it was as workable as the rest of the house. Tonight was the first time the table was going to be used for its actual purpose. He and Laxus were going to have a meal together.

That didn't help the situation.

Because, clearly there was something more. Magnolia was a nice town, and the people in it were good to Freed, but nobody got that sentimental over a collection of buildings. People did, unfortunately, get sentimental about other people.

And annoyingly, Laxus was a good person. He was snarky, and had a bite to him, and he could challenge Freed without blinking. But he was also kind, and helpful, and when he was teaching Freed how to wire a socket or plumb in a toilet, he was patient and made sure to keep the mood light; particularly when Freed was on the edge of smashing the porcelain bastard with the wrench. He was a good man, and seemed to know how to handle Freed in whatever situation he was in.

Also, he was beautiful. Freed had withheld that admission for a while, but since they would likely part ways soon he wanted to be honest. Broad shoulders, a thin waist, striking blonde hair and bright eyes. Evergreen had been right; he was an Adonis.

It didn't help he had a rustic charm that attracted Freed more than it should.

Perhaps it was for the best that they wouldn't see much of each other. Freed wasn't the romantic type, he had more important things to do. And his attraction was born out of proximity. Laxus was an attractive man, but he was just a man. In one years' time, Freed would have forgotten about him, and his life would be normal again.

And hopefully those occasional dreams would pass too. Be them the disgustingly sweet, or the more… intense ones.

"Hey," A voice snapped Freed out of his thoughts. "I think it's clean."

Freed frowned, then looked down to the table he was cleaning. One particular part of the table in particular was shining more than others. Freed's hackles rose slightly at the teasing tone in Laxus' words, but he scolded himself in his head. Laxus hadn't known what he was thinking about, all he'd seen was Freed washing a table for far too long.

"Out of interest," Freed said, cautiously. "How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen minutes," Laxus grinned, raising the two pots of Chinese food. "Food might be cold."

"Fifteen minutes!" Freed exclaimed, almost horrified.

"It was like half a minute, moron," Laxus smirked, walking to the table, and placing their take-out on the table. "What were you thinkin' about that hard?"

"A case," Freed lied. He didn't have an active case at the moment, but he was probably going to be helping with one soon. When he went back to the city. Permanently. "It's nothing too troubling, really. It's actually quite an easy case really, but our client is high profile, and they might use our services again should they need it. So we need to be litigious and cordial."

"Can't imagine you enjoy being cordial," Laxus smirked. "Probably out of practice."

"And for that, I don't think I'll pay for my half of this," Freed said, reaching over and taking the pot of food from Laxus' hand.

"Kinda proving my point there, ain't ya?"

Freed smiled a little as he brought the chopsticks to his lips. They were having a meal together as a sort of goodbye evening – not helping with Freed's refusal to be melancholy about the situation. Because not only did it force him to confront the fact he's leaving, he has to do so with the man who's making it a lot harder to do so. Worse still, Laxus had looked so damn charming with a tediously honest smile when he'd suggested they eat together. It had sent a little jolt through Freed.

Bastard. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.

"I saw Cana while I was waiting for the food," Laxus spoke again, garnering Freed's attention again. "She mentioned that her dad's looking forward to seeing what we've done with the place, apparently he's been excited about it."

"Is he interested in buying it?" Freed asked, frowning.

"He's your estate agent, Freed," Laxus said in a deadpan voice, though he was clearly fighting a smile. "You should know that. It worries me that you don't know that."

"Gildarts is Cana's father?" Freed frowned further. "They have different surnames?"

"Fuck, sometimes I forget you ain't from here," Laxus laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair and grinning. "There's a hell of a lot you don't know, isn't there? Well, guess the best place to start is with Gildarts, ain't it. Or I guess a more accurate name is Gildarts, Man-Whore Extraordinaire."

And thus, Laxus began to tell the rumours and stories about what Gildarts was like when he was younger – he really did seem to earn the title Laxus had given him – before trailing off to the other stories about Magnolia. He spoke about his hometown with a level of enthusiasm that Freed enjoyed watching, and found himself getting enveloped in the worlds that Laxus was describing. Though he might not be quite as eloquent as Freed was, he certainly made up for it with boisterous laughter and an odd amount of glee at exposing his friends embarrassing stories.

It was almost enough to distract Freed from what Laxus had said. 'I forget you ain't from here.' It was a little sentence, probably a throwaway thought to Laxus, but it made Freed feel oddly comforted. As if he had been accepted into this little community.

A ridiculous idea, really.

He blinked to stop that train of thought, and focused on the story about Elfman. Apparently he had been dragged into some comic book convention by his sisters and had been forced to dress as a monster from a book series. He apparently hated every moment of it, and Laxus had spent the years following showing the pictures of him in the costume at every opportunity he could. To prove his point, Laxus had pulled out his phone and showed Freed.

It was a better costume that Freed expected. But it revealed far too much for the shy, younger version of Elfman that Laxus had described.

Freed did find himself distracted by Laxus, thankfully. But it wasn't quite enough, because as he listened, he absently lowered his left hand under the table and started to swirl his finger against the palm of his hand. Perhaps he wouldn't have noticed the return of his nervous tick, had it not been for the raised scar that he grazed lightly.

It was new, and when he touched it and thought back to its origin, any lie about not being melancholic was shattered.

~~~

"Shit. Fuck. Fuck."

Freed hissed, pain splitting from his left hand up into his arm. He stepped back slightly, eyes flickering to the large gash that he'd just given himself, along with the thick blood that was fighting to get from it. It was a nasty looking cut, and Freed found himself unable to look away from it.

Laxus, who had been crouching down and pushing new floorboards into place, glanced towards Freed with a slight grin. The expression fell when he saw blood drip onto the floor, and he stood up quickly and walked to Freed's side. He took Freed's injured hand in his own, and let out a small hiss of sympathy as he saw the cut. Ridiculously, Freed couldn't help but note that Laxus was holding his hand for the first time.

"That's pretty nasty," Laxus commented.

"Is it," Freed muttered. "I thought it was a papercut."

"Good, if you can be a dick then it ain't that bad," Laxus smiled. "Come on, we need to wash it."

Not removing his hand from Freed's wrist, he dragged the lawyer from the cottage's sitting room and into the kitchen. Freed didn't fight it, instead focusing on catching the droplets of blood rather than letting them land on the carpet and stain it. It was a good enough distraction from both the stinging pain that was running through him, and the presence of Laxus being so close.

It wasn't a distraction from the embarrassment of the situation. Because after being successful at almost every task Laxus had given him, he cut himself sawing off the edge of a floorboard. Out of all the tools he's used, he was bested by a sawblade.

"This ain't gonna hurt a bit," Laxus promised as he opened the faucet and dragged Freed's hand under the stream of water.

Laxus Dreyar was a lying bag of shit.

"Mother fucking crap-whore!" Freed practically yelled. There was a moment of silence, Freed almost panting with pain, and Laxus biting his lip. A second later, a loud, unabashed, raucous laughter filled the room. Laxus actually doubled over he was laughing so much, resting his hands on his thighs while Freed glared at him from the sink. "I'm glad you're enjoying this so much."

"I'm sorry," Laxus grinned, something almost akin to a giggle slipping out. "I really am."

"No you're not."

"I'm not," Laxus agreed. "It was fucking funny, man. I ain't ever seen ya acting like that. Just caught me off guard," He glanced up, met Freed's glare, and burst into laughter again. "I'll get a bandage. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Freed muttered. "And try not to fall, impale yourself on a spike and die. That would be awful."

"Don't worry. Only an idiot could get hurt in this place," Laxus laughed again, and if Freed had something in reach, he would have thrown it at the bastard's head.

When Laxus returned to the kitchen, he was holding the first aid kit that he had insisted they keep in the house; no doubt when the humour of Freed's injury and subsequent cussing died down, Laxus would gloat about how right he was with demanding the first aid kit. He carefully guided Freed's hand out from under the stream of water, and patted it dry softly with a towel. Freed winced a little at the pressure on his cut, but didn't say anything.

Slowly, with careful and practiced movements, Laxus wrapped the bandage around his hand. He managed to avoid trapping any of his fingers. Though the white fabric did get stained slightly, it seemed to trap the blood from pouring out too badly. The pain was subsiding slightly now, too.

It allowed him to appreciate how gentle Laxus was being. He wasn't used to thinking of Laxus being gentle.

"How do you know how to do this?" Freed asked, sitting at the kitchen table.

"I used to have to do it all the time," Laxus sighed a little as he spoke, removing his hands from the bandage and inspecting his handywork. He looked up to Freed, who was frowning at him slightly. "I had a lot going on when I was a teenager, got into a lot of fights. Well, that's how I saw it. Turns out I was kind of a bully."

Freed frowned deeper. "You were?"

"Yeah. Didn't think I was, at the time, but I went to therapy for a while and she called me out on it," Laxus shrugged. "But yeah, a couple times a month I'd fight some kid. Had a superiority complex or some shit, wanted everyone to worship me and do what I want. Cringey teenager shit and a lot of aggression, bad mix. Eventually, when the guys started to fight back, I needed to learn some basic first aid."

When Laxus looked up, Freed had an expression of curiosity on his face. It clearly wasn't what Laxus had expected.

"Was it the therapy that made you stop, then?" Freed asked, and Laxus seemed blind sighted for a moment.

"Er, no. Not exactly," Laxus shook his head. "There were two kids that pissed me off more than most, don't know why. So when things were getting bad, I kinda… targeted them more than anyone else. Natsu and Gajeel, you might have met them at some point. Fireman and mechanic. But they got pissed at me for taking things too far, jumped me, beat the shit out of me, then went to the principal and told him all the shit I've done. Got suspended, thought about myself, and started meetin' with Porlyusica; she's my therapist. She basically listed all the shit I've done and made me be better."

Freed took a moment to think through what he'd just heard. It was the best thing to do, he'd found out. Sometimes people let out their biggest, darkest secrets to him – the curse of being a lawyer – and your first thoughts on the matter were often unhelpful. So he took some time, and eventually asked the question that seemed most prudent.

"Your principal suspended you without evidence?" Freed asked.

"Oh he had plenty of evidence," Laxus laughed. "Hard to get shit past the guy when he's your grandfather."

"Makarov?" Freed frowned.

"Yeah, used to be in charge of the school. Only retired because the school board forced him to," Laxus grinned. "He started working at the hotel because he found retirement boring," Laxus smiled for a moment at the memory of his grandfather's sudden proclamation he was buying the hotel, before looking back to Freed, smile drooping slightly. "I just admitted to beating up kids and being a bully, why doesn't that bother you?"

"Some of my clients intentionally lower their workers' wages to increase their own paycheque, and then laugh about it," Freed shrugged. But Laxus nudged him, sensing there was more. "Nobody was there best in high school, I certainly wasn't."

"You were a bully too huh?" Laxus laughed, joking.

"Well, not exactly, but I wasn't the most kind," Freed leant back in his chair. "I was the smartest person there and wanted people to know it. I would start discussions on test results just so I could make sure everyone knew I'd gotten one hundred percent. And there was one boy, he wasn't the smartest, who sat beside me in most classes. Alphabetised seating plans and all. I could be rather… patronising to him. I think I had a crush on him, in retrospect. It was probably a twisted way of trying to deal with it."

"You don't seem like that now," Laxus commented. "Other than when you're joking, but I know that ain't serious. What changed?"

"Evergreen and Bickslow essentially told me that if I didn't get over myself, they'd stop being my friends," Freed smiled. "Other than them, I only had my parents. I couldn't lose them."

They sat in silence, Freed thinking back to the person he was in high school, Laxus perhaps doing the same thing. It was an odd feeling, sitting with someone who somewhat understood what it was like being ashamed of the person you used to be, but knowing you've grown past them. Most people, if they did feel like that, didn't talk about it. It was nice to know that, in Laxus, he had someone he could relate to.

It was also nice to know that he had just come out to Laxus and the blonde hadn't so much as blinked.

"I would have kicked your ass if we went to school together," Laxus declared, smirking.

"You would have tried," Freed corrected, allowing the mood to be lifted. "But, as a child I was also an award-winning fencer. I would have stabbed you before you could hurt me."

"Hard to stab someone when you've been knocked out," Laxus grinned cockily, making a fist. This had the unfortunate side effect of making his bicep flex, and therefore Freed had to avert his gaze.

They chuckled together, enjoying their joke that wasn't particularly funny. It was relaxing to be around with Laxus, and Freed felt as though he could be honest with him in a way that he couldn't be with others. Perhaps that was because he was the first person Freed had gotten to know deeply since his time in school. But that didn't matter, really. Because the important thing was that he enjoyed Laxus.

"Come on," Laxus spoke again. "I don't trust my bandage work. Let's go to the doctors, make sure you ain't gonna get infected or some shit."

And stupidly, Freed's heart fluttered at that.

~~~

"You really are distracted, ain't ya?"

Freed looked up from his hand, which he had placed on the table and was fiddling with, and towards Laxus. The blonde had an expression unknown to Freed, something between being amused and contemplative. Freed frowned.

"I suppose I am," Freed agreed. "I'm sorry. You wanted to do this and I'm being terrible company. What were you saying?"

"It ain't important," Laxus gave a half shrug. "You wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

"As I said, I've got an upcoming case that could be very good for my company," Freed quickly lied, because the truth was now completely untellable. "It's getting to me a little, but it's not as bad as you might think. I just need to rationalise everything."

"Right. So when I texted Evergreen a second ago and she said you don't have anything planned at work, she was lying?" Laxus crossed his arms, and Freed's eyes narrowed.

"You and Evergreen talk?"

"You can bullshit me all you want, but I'm gonna be able to see through it," Laxus said, ignoring Freed's question. "And you don't have to tell me what's actually bothering you, because if it ain't my business then it ain't my business."

Freed wanted to snipe at him. Ask him why, if he believed his words, was he still talking?

"I'm just gonna say this," Laxus continued. "Nothing has to be done if you don't want it to be."

And, in a way, there was the reality that Freed had been hiding from. Because, as much as he didn't want to leave Magnolia behind, he also didn't want to let himself think he could stay. The hard line he had always drawn with the house was that, once it was functional and sellable, he would sell it and get back to his normal life. Not only was it a goal for him to achieve, but it had also turned into a rule he had to follow.

Because his fondness for both the town and Laxus had been gradual, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Freed. He told himself he had to leave the place behind at some point, and doing that once the house was sold was a way of holding himself accountable. Once the building work had been completed, there was nothing else for him to do in Magnolia.

But that was a lie.

And the only person keeping him true to the rule was himself.

"I always said that I would sell it once everything was fixed," Freed stated, voice flickering into the lawyer tone he denied having.

"Then say something else," Laxus retorted, as if Freed could do that. "Look, I don't know what your life is like when you're in the city. But I know you seem to like being here. So why don't you just keep coming?"

"I-" Freed paused. He needed to think. "My real life is in the city. I can't-"

"Who says that your real life is just in the city? You've been coming here every weekend for months now, it's as much a part of your life as anything," Laxus stated, and his smile made Freed's resolve crumble slightly.

"I told myself that once the house-"

"This isn't about the house" Laxus insisted. "This is about you, fucking idiot. I think being here makes you happy. And if something makes you happy, why stop because of some bullshit rule you set yourself? That ain't smart."

Freed thought, for a moment.

It was almost nauseating to hear Laxus speaking like this, and Freed couldn't explain why. Well, perhaps he could, but the explanation wasn't something he was willing to entertain. Because the only real reason Laxus would be so insistent on Freed returning to Magnolia as he had been doing was because he wanted to keep seeing Freed. He wanted Freed to stop coming as much as Freed wanted to.

But Freed couldn't allow himself to accept that. Because if he did, he'd start wondering why. And then maybe he'd trick himself into thinking that his silly crush was reciprocated. He couldn't.

"There is… more work I could do," Freed spoke without thinking.

"I guess there is," Laxus nodded. "So you're sticking around? For the house"

"For the house."

It wasn't for the house. They both knew it.

[eryiss]

Fraxus Week 2020: Day 5 - Friends To Lovers

Summary: After a crappy post-college first year, Laxus jumped at the opportunity to leave town for a week for a road trip with his friends. He intended it just to be a week away with his friends, but when he meets an unfamiliar stranger, the vacation turns into something much more. [Fraxus Multichapter]

This is the fifth part of my Fraxus Week admissions, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. This year I’ve made the prompts into a single multi-chapter fic. You can see all the chapters in the Masterpost linked below. Hope you enjoy.

You can read this on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, and under the cut. Read the other chapters from this masterlist.

Chapter Five – Talks at The Canyon

"Okay, what is up with you two?"

Laxus looked towards Bickslow with a guilty expression. He had hoped that he'd hidden the awkwardness between Freed and himself better, but obviously he'd failed. In retrospect, Laxus probably should have been suspicious when Bickslow insisted that Freed be the one to fill the RV with gas this time, rather than doing it himself. Still, just because Bickslow knew about how awkward he was behaving, it didn't mean Laxus had to explain why.

"What d'you mean?" He asked, voice a little too timid for his liking.

"I mean you two slunk out of the motel room this morning and wouldn't even look at each other, and you've not spoken to each other all day," Bickslow listed off, and Laxus realised they really hadn't hidden their awkwardness well. "So what exactly happened?"

"It's nothing," Laxus insisted.

"Bull crap," Bickslow snapped. "Look, if you two had a fight or something you can't keep it a secret. Ever's gonna get it out of ya if I don't, so you might as well tell me now."

That was probably true, both of his friends were annoyingly talented at getting information out of someone when they needed to. But Laxus felt it was probably for the best that he kept the events of last night to himself, and accomplished that by looking straight ahead out of the front window in a childish attempt to bore Bickslow to a point where he would leave him alone. Bickslow raised both of his eyebrows in disbelief at Laxus' actions, waiting.

They both sat in silence for a few moments, and Laxus almost thought that he had won. Bickslow let out a huff of annoyance, and Laxus practically prayed that the man would leave him alone so that he wouldn't have to relive what he'd done.

"Laxus," Bickslow said in a slightly pleading voice; he too was being childish then. "We're gonna be at the canyon today. It's gonna be really awkward hiking around a big hole if you two are arguing. I can't even make big hole jokes because I'll be scared of making things worse somehow. Just tell me."

"It's…" Laxus thought for a moment. "I did something stupid."

There. That was something. Perhaps it would placate the man.

"Stupid how?"

"Just stupid," Laxus sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

From the corner of his eye, Laxus could see that Bickslow was looking at him with more concern than interest now. Maybe it was best to tell him; the guy was pretty sympathetic when he wanted to be. Hell, the only reason they were on this road trip was because he wanted his friends to feel better. Maybe he could offer Laxus some advice.

"I kissed him last night," Laxus admitted with an exhale.

"Oh," Bickslow said, and he was clearly not expecting that. "And… he didn't kiss back. He pushed you off?"

"No, he kissed back," Laxus closed his eyes as he spoke.

"And that's bad because…"

"We got drunk, raided the mini-bar," Laxus confessed, and he saw Bickslow's brow furrow at the admission, but he didn't say anything. "We watched crap TV and then started talking. And he told me that his ex'd cheated on him, that's why they broke up, and that he's feeling crappy. And I was kinda buzzed, y'know, I kinda…"

"Kissed him?" Bickslow finished.

"Yeah, basically," Laxus sighed. "I mean I said some shit about how I would have treated him if I were him, and how he didn't deserve to get cheated on. Then I kissed him, and he kissed me back."

Bickslow seemed to be thinking, as his gaze went a little distant. This had always been something that Laxus had appreciated about the other man; even despite his hyper personality, he was actually quite a thoughtful person, and Laxus knew that he was thinking of the best thing to say. And any advice that he might have would probably be helpful, even if the feeling of waiting for him to say something was making Laxus feel sick.

"Right," Bickslow eventually said. "Well, kissing a guy while drunk isn't your best move, it's probably not your worst either. I mean if he kissed ya back then he's probably interested, and he's been stealing glances as much as you have. What happened after?"

"I pulled away, went back to my bed, turned my back on him and pretended I was asleep," Laxus muttered.

"Laxus," Bickslow snapped, and slapped his bicep.

"I ain't proud of it," Laxus tried to defend himself. "But it was just like, when I kissed him I got sober. Like someone poured cold water over me. And I realised that I barely know the guy, that he just got cheated on, and that the last thing he's gonna want is some random guy kissing him. and then being trapped with the same guy for days."

"You think maybe he might have had an opinion on that?" Bickslow asked incredulously.

"I panicked," Laxus groaned. "I was embarrassed. I felt like I took advantage of him or something. Shutting myself off seemed like the best thing to do."

"Well you're gonna have ta talk about it, baby," Bickslow said soothingly. "Because if you don't, you're gonna end up regretting it, and the rest of the trip is gonna be really fucking painful for us all. Especially the two of you."

"I know," Laxus sighed.

He glanced out of the window to see that Evergreen and Freed were talking outside, no doubt having a similar conversation, and Laxus deflated slightly. He would talk to the other man, because he really would regret it if he didn't. It had been quite some time since Laxus had felt like this with a man, and he knew better than to just throw the feeling away because of embarrassment, and that he shouldn't give up.

And when Freed happened to glance up, and they caught each other's eyes before both turning away, Laxus knew that he had to talk to him soon.

~~~

"It's erm," Bickslow began. "It's kinda breath-taking."

"It is," Evergreen said, and both Freed and Laxus nodded in agreement.

They had arrived at the Grand Canyon, and had been given the unhindered view of the landscape. They could see it all, and the cloudless blue sky only added to the majesty of the place. There was something oddly humbling about the view, as if it were putting everything into perspective for Laxus, and the blonde couldn't help but release that his embarrassment about the previous night was so utterly stupid that he physically cringed at himself.

He had turned his back on the man. Literally looked away from him because of his stupid decision to kiss him. He had acted like a damn kid in a crappy high school TV show. It all seemed so pathetic now, Laxus could barely handle it.

His gaze fell on Freed again.

God was he handsome.

"Well, we ain't getting any younger, so we better start walkin' if we wanna get around the place by the end of the day," Bickslow proclaimed. "Come on Freedo Justineo."

"Oh please don't start calling me that," Freed requested, and Laxus jolted at the sound of his voice.

"You and I are gonna forge ahead and leave those assholes in the dust," Bickslow grinned as he slung an arm over Freed's shoulder. "Because Ever is stupid and she decided to bring only heeled shoes to a damn canyon, and Laxus is a muscle head who doesn't have any stamina and he'll be exhausted by the time we're out of the parking lot. So off we go, into the pit."

Bickslow was marching off, essentially dragging Freed with him, before the man could make any real complaints. That left Laxus with Evergreen, who was looking at him expectantly. When he glanced down, he noticed she was wearing flat shoes.

"Those ain't heels," He commented.

"So you're not completely stupid," Evergreen said, a little harsher than Laxus liked.

"What's that tone for?" Laxus asked indignantly.

"You kissed him, didn't say anything for the rest of the night and then pretended to be asleep," She huffed, crossing her arms. "You even turned the damn lamp off. What were you thinking?"

"I was drunk," Laxus tried to explain.

"You've been drunk a lot of times around me and you've never been so stupid before," She chastised him, and Laxus had half a mind to walk off. He would have, had Evergreen not been right. "I get that you might have panicked, or that you even regretted it for some reason, but is that really the best thing you could think of doing. Just ignoring him isn't going to get rid of the problem, if anything it's going to put a massive focus on it because of how much effort you're putting into ignoring it."

"I know," Laxus groaned. "And I'm gonna talk to him about it. Gonna apologise to him."

"And say what exactly?" Evergreen asked.

Laxus hadn't actually thought of that. After speaking with Bickslow, the rest of the trip to the canyon had been spent convincing himself that he had the courage to speak to the man despite the bubble of nervous embarrassment that filled him when he so much as looked at him. He had been so focused on getting the courage to say anything to him, he had almost forgotten that what he said to him had to be meaningful and impactful.

Evergreen apparently saw the struggle Laxus was going through, and her posture changed to something less annoyed. She placed a hand on Laxus' arm in a comforting way, patting it softly. Laxus was glad she didn't seem angry at him anymore.

"What am I gonna say to him?" Laxus mused aloud.

"I don't know," Evergreen said carefully. "But I think that, before you start thinking about that, you need to be sure of what you actually want with Freed. If you wanna be friends with him, go out with him, never see him after the week ends. Because if you don't know that then talking about it isn't going to help anything."

Laxus knew that. He knew he had to know what he wanted. And he basically did know what he wanted. But he probably couldn't have that, because of one big problem.

"The guy was just cheated on-"

"I know," Evergreen interrupted. "But I'm not asking you what the gallant thing to do is. I'm asking you what you, Laxus Dreyar, want with Freed. What the ideal end to the week would be for you."

Laxus sighed to himself. "I'd wanna be with him, I guess. But I don't have a clue if he's ready or not-"

"That's his problem, Laxus," Evergreen assured him. "If he wants to start dating someone or he doesn't, that's nothing to do with you. But if he is ready, and I think that he might be, then you need to let him know you're interested. He's not broken, and he's not fragile. If anything he's pissed off, partly about being cheated on and partly because he knew exactly why you closed yourself off last night."

"You think?" Laxus asked, deflating.

"He's a smart guy, Laxus. Smartest one here," Evergreen shrugged. "Look, I'm not saying that you have to have a wedding planned out or anything, but I think it'll be good for you to think about what Freed might be for you. And now's as good a time as any to think, because as nice as this place is, walking around it is going to get very boring very quickly. So just take today, think about what you want, and think about how you're going to tell Freed about it. The rest is up to the two of you, okay?"

"Okay," Laxus nodded.

He already knew, in his gut, what he wanted from Freed. Now he just had to convince himself that it was the right thing for the both of them.

~~~

It was dark now, but they were still at the canyon. Multiple lights illuminated the landscape, and stars shimmered down on them all. Laxus looked at the RV with a small amount of trepidation, nerves bubbling in his stomach as he walked forward.

All day he'd been thinking about what Evergreen and Bickslow had spoken to him about. He'd thought about what he might want with Freed – if it could be something serious or casual, if it was just a crush he could get over or something bigger than that, if he could get past the embarrassment of the previous night and get over his pride to explain that sometimes, when it came to his emotions, he was a fucking idiot. His entire mind had been a mess of possibilities, and most of the day Laxus had felt almost sick.

And then an image stuck him, and image of a possible future. He thought about him and Freed, watching TV together in a similar way they had the night before. They were sharing a pizza, and when Freed leaned up and kissed him, Laxus had kissed back happily.

After that, more possibilities hit him. Each just as tempting as the last.

The two of them at the beach. Freed would have been reading for hours, and Laxus would have slung him over his shoulder and taken him to the water, making some joke about how he wanted the man's attention.

Or the first time it snowed in Magnolia one year. They might have gone to a Christmas market, eating the Russian food that was served and enjoying themselves.

Or a lazy breakfast together, eating in Laxus' kitchen side by side as they struggled to keep their eyes open.

It was then that Laxus had been left with no doubt, and all his questions had been answered. He didn't want something casual with Freed, he wanted a full and loving relationship. It wasn't just a crush, it was more akin to infatuation, and Laxus didn't care that he had only known the man for a short time. And he didn't give a damn about his pride because Freed was worth more than Laxus' dignity. And hopefully, if Freed knew that Laxus wasn't just an emotionally incompetent idiot, he might give him a chance to make his desires come true.

All he had to do was approach the man.

They had all decided that, after spending the day hiking, they would spend the night at the canyon's parking lot. As the night was still warm, Freed had chosen that he would read his novel outside. Well, that's what he claimed, what he actually meant was he was going to read on the rooftop of the RV. Taking a breath to steady himself, Laxus took the ladder in hand and climbed it.

"Hey," He greeted, and Freed looked towards him. "Mind if I join you?"

"By all means," Freed made a motion towards Laxus.

After stepping off the small ladder, Laxus shifted so that he was sitting beside Freed. If the man looked radiant in the sunlight, he looked positively gorgeous in the moonlight. The darker and cooler colours seemed to just accent everything that was perfect about the man. From his striking features to his slightly paler than normal skin, it all seemed to be just a little more beautiful in the moonlight. It made the conversation Laxus wanted to have both harder to start, and more important to have as soon as possible.

"Look, I just wanted to say, I'm sorry for what happened last night," Laxus began. "Not that I kissed ya. Well, kind of actually. Not that I'm sorry about kissing ya, more that I'm sorry I kissed ya in the way that I did. That's not what I'm trying to say. What I'm trying to say… what I need to say is…"

Laxus cussed himself silently. He had known what he had wanted to say, how come it was so hard to get the actual words out.

"I think what you need is a minute to gather your thoughts a little better," Freed said, a pleasant teasing tone in his voice.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "Sorry, I thought that I knew what I was gonna say. Turns out I don't."

Freed chuckled, placing the book down and turning so he was looking at Laxus face on, sitting cross legged with a patient expression on his face. Laxus wasn't entirely sure that he had earned such an expression, given how he had treated Freed the night before, but Evergreen had insisted that Freed understood his actions and wasn't angry at him. Well, nothing that he couldn't fix if he acted quickly at least.

"Okay, what I meant to say was, I'm sorry I kissed you in the way I did last night," Laxus began after thinking for a moment. "We were both drunk, and my judgment wasn't great. You had just been pretty emotionally vulnerable with me, and for some fucking reason I thought it was the right time to try and kiss you. And I'm sorry about that."

"You don't need to-"

"I do," Laxus cut him off, making eye contact with him. "Look, I ain't good with feelings and crap. I normally get panicked and awkward, and I apparently sometimes do stupid stuff like this. And the only reason I can get away with it is because people call me out on my bullshit. You seem like the kinda guy who can do that, so don't be kind when you don't need to."

"Asking me not to show restraint can be a dangerous thing, Laxus," Freed said with a chuckle in his tone. "But I understand that. I have a habit of closing myself off and not discussing things. Bickslow's words, not mine."

"They been givin' you the third degree today too?" Laxus asked.

"They're annoyingly good at it, aren't they?" Freed laughed, before smiling at Laxus pleasantly. "I do forgive you, Laxus. Admittedly, ignoring each other isn't what I would have wanted the end of our first kiss to be, but I can't deny I've done idiotic things when overwhelmed. And I understand it, so don't worry yourself about it."

"Thanks," Laxus nodded a little.

He looked towards the other man, and felt something of an ache in his stomach. The fact Freed could forgive him in such an understanding way made Laxus feel warm inside in a way he couldn't describe. In Laxus' past attempts at relationships, often his clumsy attempts at understanding and dealing with his emotions had left to arguments. Rightfully so, Laxus knew that in hindsight. But the fact that Freed was willing to understand that it hadn't been malicious was something of a comfort that Laxus couldn't help but crave more of.

"There's a little more," Laxus confessed. "It's erm, well, the reason I acted like I did after I kissed you is that, well, I didn't just feel like I'm taking advantage of you. It felt like I kinda, I dunno, wasted my first kiss with ya," Laxus blushed, and averted his gaze. "I don't… the kiss wasn't just a drunk impulse. It's erm… it's something I wanted to do while sober but didn't have the balls."

God, he really needed to get better at talking.

"And the fact I kissed ya at such a bad time, kinda scared me. Because if I was thinking I'm a dickhead for kissing you at that time, I thought you'd think the same and-"

Freed interrupted Laxus' ramblings by leaning over, cupping Laxus' chin with his thumb and finger, and bringing his closer. Laxus' eyes widened, and a moment later he was being kissed.

It was magical.

Laxus' memory of their drunken kiss was hazy at best, and was overshadowed by the regret and embarrassment. But in this moment, he felt engrossed by Freed. As if the two of them were the only people of importance, and he was almost overwhelmed by the sensation of Freed. The movement of Freed's lips against his chapped ones, the calloused hand on his thigh Freed was using to keep balance, the sight of the man's eyes closing softly in a fluttering motion.

At the movement, Laxus closed his own eyes and allowed himself to be dragged further into the lure of Freed's kiss. It was perfect.

When they eventually pulled apart, they both were a little breathless. They kept their faces only an inch apart, and Laxus was blushing slightly. He had kissed Freed while sober. Freed, the man who had captured Laxus' attention and seemed reluctant to let it go, had just kissed him. And it had been perfect.

"Does this mean that-" Laxus began, but Freed shushed him with a smile.

"We can discuss things after the trip is done," Freed promised. "Right now, I think we've earned the right to enjoy each other."

Freed was kissing him before he could argue. Not that he would have anyway.