#he’d ask so many questions nd be so nervous

[jesuistrestriste]

'art donaldson talks you through it'

no no no, i talk him thru it

[thesith]

— Chapter Two: Attachment

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“It is Hunter’s turn to keep watch, so I am on story duty. Where did he leave off?” Tech asked, uninterested in telling the story - there are many things he could do with his time; fix devices that don’t need to be fixed, watch a holomovie, tinkering with tools. But no, Hunter needed him to help Omega fall asleep, so that’s what he’ll do. Maybe he’ll even supplement parts of the story with recordings he took during battle.

Your first mission with your new squad exceeded your expectations. The group of four was more capable than an army - more efficient, too. After showering to cleanse your body of filth, you took residence in the gunner’s mount to meditate.

You closed your eyes and quieted your mind, finding solitude in the darkness behind your eyelids. You opened your senses, feeling small blips in the engine, the powering-up of Gonky, a presence behind you.

The intentions of the person standing there were clear as day, and you thought it was time to answer the question that laid on the sniper’s mind.

“My Master was killed. This isn’t a punishment - it’s a temporary placement.” You quietly spoke to Crosshair, who didn’t respond verbally. The nod of his head reverberated through the Force, as did his echoing footsteps. You relaxed once more, finding some semblance of peace in such a violent galaxy.

Crosshair walked up to his brothers who were all sitting in their respective seats in the cockpit, taking a seat on his own chair, “Their Master died.”

Unsurprised looks from Tech and Hunter met his eyes, along with a gasp from an unsuspecting Wrecker.

“I know. I was told when they were first assigned to our squad,” Hunter started, thinking of his next words, “I know you don’t do well with change - none of us do. It’s always been us against the world, but I need you to try - that goes for all of you. They will open up about things when they’re ready.”

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months with your new team, and you quickly found your place among them - you felt like one of them; a luxury you’d never had before. Among the Jedi, the only place you felt you belonged was with your Master - now you’re making a new meaning for yourself.

You were laying in your bunk and staring at the ceiling when Wrecker came to you, a nervous energy filling the room.

“What’s up, Wrecker? Are you feeling okay?” You asked out of concern for the large clone, throwing your legs over the side of your bunk and looking at him.

He nodded and rubbed the back of his head, “I was wondering, y’know, if I could try your laser sword? It just seems super cool ‘nd every time I see one I wanna try it.”

So he was nervous you’d say no, note taken. “Not on the ship, but when we arrive at the next planet maybe.” In very rare circumstances non-Jedi/Force-wielders were allowed to use a lightsaber, but you liked Wrecker and trust him - plus, he’d be under your watchful eye the entire time.

His eyes widened with glee and a large smile encased his lips. He excitedly skipped to the cockpit, making the floor rumble with each landing.

You thoroughly enjoyed working with the self-proclaimed ‘Bad Batch’ - more individualistic than most other clones you’d worked with before. They seemed to have a blatant disregard for orders (save for Hunter’s) & their own way of doing things, which earned them a 100% success rate with zero casualties.

After being away for half a year (approximately 190 rotations), you were hailed back to Coruscant to provide the Council with an update on your endeavors. You hadn’t been back since your departure with the Bad Batch, which earned you and your squad a few days “vacation-time” on the ecumenopolis.

The Council was eager to hear your report - which was very evident by the continuous stream of questions - that you spoke in detail. You elaborated on your missions, what actions you took during, and the roles you played.

“Clone Force 99 is proficient in many areas, they are some of the finest clones I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”

Master Windu was next to speak, “And if we were to transfer you to another squadron? How would you feel about that?”

‘Pissed’ is what you wanted to say, yet you held your tongue. You opted for “I’d go wherever you send me, Master Windu.”

“I don’t think that was the question, Padawan. How would you feel?” He pushed, not believing your initial answer. “Attachments are forbidden, you know this.”

“Yes, Master Windu. I understand that attachments are forbidden to Jedi, so I would not have any feelings on the matter. I would believe that you used your judgement to transfer me and had the best interests of the Republic in mind.” It was a bold-faced lie - you would have feelings about it, but you’d never admit that to the Council.

Mace nodded, “We still haven't found a Master to finish your training - if one isn’t found in the next few months, one of the Council members will take over.”

“I see.” Honestly you hadn’t thought of that in the past few months - you found your footing with the Bad Batch, and the thought of having to leave them hadn’t crossed your mind. Then again, you were a Padawan still so that’s to be expected.

“Have something on your mind, do you?” The Grand Master asked, observing the thoughtful look on your face. Nothing got past him.

You replied, “Just haven’t thought much about what comes next, Master Yoda.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, looking around the room, “Adjourned, this meeting is.”

You took your leave from the room, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You made a bee-line for the Marauder, wanting nothing more than to speak to Hunter. When you arrived, you found Hunter in the cock-pit.

“How’d the meeting go?” It was almost as if he sensed your discomfort - or maybe he saw the look on your face. Contemplative features, every few seconds scrunching in distaste. “How about we go for a walk?”

You nodded and tugged your robes closer to you - a habit you’d picked up from your Master. The two of you exited the Marauder and breathed in the Coruscant air. You turned your head to look at Hunter and were met with an uncomfortable face.

Oh shit. Coruscant is a planet-wide city - he’s overwhelmed by the electromagnetic frequencies, the bustling vehicles, the many voices crowding the streets. You tugged Hunter’s arm and led him into the Temple, straight toward your empty quarters.

“Sorry for dragging you,” You apologized while opening the door, “I could sense how uncomfortable you were - y’know, the city and everything. Hopefully this is at least a little better.”

Hunter looked at you thoughtfully, “It is. Thanks.”

You made yourself comfortable on the couch, motioning for Hunter to sit next to you.

He took a seat on the opposite end of the couch and faced you, “So, what happened?”

“They asked me a ton of questions regarding our missions, how effectively we completed them, and you know, how I’d feel if they placed me with another unit…”

Something in Hunter snapped, “They what?”

“Yeah, they also told me that if they can’t find a new master for me to complete my training under within the coming months, I’ll be placed with a Council member.” You placed a hand on your forehead and allowed it to run down your face, “I haven’t even thought about having to leave.”

“Yeah, us either. You’re part of our team…” Hunter trailed off, leaving many things left unsaid, “Just gotta make the most of the time we have left.”

You didn’t think literally, but when nightfall came and your squad dragged you into the busy night-life of Coruscant and into a tattoo shop, you realized his words were literal. You’d seen all of their squad tattoos (in various places), and they’d all expressed interest in getting more done, but you weren’t sure why they dragged you there too.

“I think I’m gonna get a face-tat. Like, a half-skull?”

The idea of that on Hunter was mouth-watering, “Like your helmet? Sounds cool.”

”I think Cross is gonna get the crosshair on his eye, too - not sure about Tech and Wrecker, but they’ll probably come up with something.”

“So, am I here to give my opinion?” You asked, the loud music making it hard for your to hear yourself.

Hunter smiled and shook his head, “Nah, you’re here to get one too,” he paused, scanning your face for a negative sign, “Only if you want to, though! No pressure.”

“Jedi don’t usually get tattoos, Hunter.” No matter how desperately you’d wanted one, you weren’t sure if it’d be in your best interest.

He placed a hand to your shoulder, “Well, it’s a good thing you aren’t a usual Jedi, then. I was thinking, how about our squad logo? I wasn’t lying when I said that you are one of us.”

Your heart warmed at the admission and implication - no matter where you were and what you were doing, you’d always be part of the Bad Batch. You loved the idea, “Where are you thinking, then? I can’t have it somewhere obvious - the council would know, and I’d probably be expelled from the Order.”

“More time with us, then.” Hunter deadpanned before breaking into a smile, “Joking, joking - you’ve seen where Tech’s is, right? His lower back?”

“That’s a good place, but I was thinking…” You trailed off, not wanting to reveal anything just yet.

All bearing new tattoos, you exited the sketchy-looking building (which you discovered is where most clones get theirs done) and trekked down the street to 79s for some drinks, which was definitely also against the code. You were dressed in civvies: the clones in the bar wouldn’t recognize you without your staple-robes.

After safely making it back to your quarters (and somehow sneaking the group of clones inside the Temple), you flopped onto your bed, releasing a tired sigh. You wanted nothing more than to pass out, but the Batch had other plans.

“Are clones permitted to be in the Jedi Temple?” Tech asked your flat body.

You used your elbows to push yourself up, leaning on them, “Only some facilities. Definitely not personal quarters, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Are clones allowed in the library? Or archives? I find the Jedi Order to be fascinating with all of the rules and regulations set in place.”

“I don’t think so - I’ve never seen a clone in either. Then again, no clone is as interested in learning as you, Tech. I can ask around for you, see if there’s any way?” You proposed, not wanting to take the clone away from knowledge he’s so eager to learn about. “Holocrons are different, though. They hold teachings and wisdom of Jedi and can only be activated through the use of the Force.”

“How exactly does the Force work? Anything notable on how it feels?”

You sighed and sat up completely, resting your back against the wall and crossing your legs. “I can try to show you - it’s difficult to explain. I’ve never meditated with non-Jedi, but I think I can help you feel it for yourself. Everybody has a presence in the Force.”

Tech sat on the cold floor and imitated your form, watching you intently. He watched as you allowed your eyes to close, resulting in him doing the same.

You opened yourself up to the Force, feeling everything around you. You could feel Hunter’s breathing in the room over, Crosshair’s meddling with his civvie wristwatch, Wrecker scavenging your kitchen for food.

“The Force surrounds you, flows through you. Silence your mind and subject yourself to feeling,” You stretched your Force presence toward Tech in hopes that it’d calm him and help him to feel his surroundings. Your method proved successful, as a gasp escaped Tech’s mouth. “Hear the bustling vehicles, the humming of ships, people conversing on the streets.” You pushed further, allowing some of your strength in the Force to run through Tech.

“I feel… worried. I can hear a familiar voice in my head - your voice.”

Maybe Tech was more Force-sensitive than you’d anticipated.

“I can feel Hunter’s concern from the adjacent room. I believe he’s worried about you.” Tech stopped to take a deep breath, “He doesn’t want you to leave us - he lo-”

You brought your Force presence back to yourself, cutting Tech off. You didn’t want to hear the rest of that sentence, as it’d make your attachment to them more real. You’d been doing a good job at pushing down your feelings, pretending the attachment doesn’t exist - if you’d allowed Tech to finish that sentence, you didn’t know if you’d be able to hold out any longer.

“That was… enlightening. Thank you, Commander, for allowing me to experience the Force as you do. My hypothesis was incorrect, though I should have been sure of that earlier on.” Tech paused, crafting his next sentence carefully, “The Force really is living and breathing, residing in all life.”

“The Force is life, Tech.” You added on, “and you’re welcome. I hope that gave you more insight.”

“It did,” Tech unfolded from his position and pulled out his datapad to presumably take notes, “If I’d asked any other Jedi, or Force-wielder for insight, they would not have allowed me to experience it first-hand as you did.”

You nodded as a sign of recognition and Tech turned and left the room, fondling with his datapad as he returned to his brothers.

Your Master’s quarters felt a lot less lonely with them here.

[tobiokuns]

— surprise pregnancy with haikyuu boys

summary: you hadn’t planned for this to happen. neither of you had. but it had, and now you had to tell him.

characters: kageyama tobio, miya atsumu, akaashi keiji

tags: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, some humor, brief mention of abortion, implied body image insecurities, happy ending

— kageyama tobio

you wring your hands as you lean against the doorjamb, anxiously waiting for kageyama to come home. he’d had a long week, you know, but your first appointment with your doctor is on monday, and you think he’d like to be there if possible. at least, you’d put it off long enough.

the click of the lock unlatching and the familiar turn of the knob raises your attention. you feel like you’re going to choke under the pressure, and even seeing his face doesn’t calm you down.

if anything, you’re even more nervous, seeing the sweat on his brow.

“tobio—” you call over to him when he walks through the door, before you lose your nerve, “i’m pregnant.”

there’s a terse silence, even though kageyama just looks confused. your boyfriend blinks once, twice, and scrunches his eyebrows like he always does when he’s thinking hard, and just stares. your heart pounds in your chest.

“...but i just signed onto a new team,” he says, finally.

you make a sound of affirmation. “yeah, i know,” you sigh, smiling tightly, “but we can make it work, right?”

he kinda looks like he does when he’s setting, in deep concentration, kind of unhappy. you wait for him to say something, anything, but the silence stretches on, for so long that you think you’ll have a heart attack.

“my first doctor’s appointment is on monday,” you tell him, trying to nudge him into saying something, “do you want to come with me?”

“i can’t, i have practice,” he blurts out almost automatically, and you nod. of course he does. it’s silent for a while, and then he’s speaking again. “can’t you...” he swallows, looking away, “...not have the baby?”

don’t lose your shit, you tell yourself, don’t lose your shit. you tamp down the growing anger and nod again, making another vague humming noise.

“yeah, i could,” you agree, voice eerily quiet, “but i want the baby, tobio.”

“okay,” he nods, “...do what you want, then.” 

your heart drops. you can’t see his face, not with his bangs covering his eyes, but you stare at him for a while anyway, your own eyes stinging. you silently shuffle back into the house, leaving him standing in the doorway.

it’s awkward when he slips into bed that night. you keep your back to him, but you can almost feel his gaze on the ceiling. you don’t know when he sleeps, or if he ever does. by the time you wake up, he’s wrapped around you, leg thrown over yours, his big hand rubbing over your still flat stomach under your shirt.

he jolts awake as soon as you stir, dropping his lips against your neck and nuzzling you.

“i’m sorry about last night,” he murmurs immediately, and you’re sure he’s pouting. “y-you caught me off guard. i want it. the... the baby. with you.”

you sigh, staring at the wall opposite from you. you think of having to move again, back to japan this time. you thought that would be good for you and kageyama, but his reaction last night...

“are you sure?” you ask, covering his hand with yours, missing some of the bravado you had, “we can...”

“no,” he sounds almost childish, and you smile, wondering how he’ll be as a father, “no, i’m—i’m sure.”

his arms tighten around you. it’s not often that you get to cuddle in the morning with kageyama, not when he’s always going for jogs and volleyball practice. so you lean back, telling yourself that everything will be just fine.

— miya atsumu

“y’know, y/n...” your boyfriend says to you one day, “yer gettin’ kinda... like, fat...”

you whip your head around to stare at him, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. he cowers instinctively, waiting for you to hit him like you usually do, but your arm stops midair before you let it drop. 

you wanted to hide this a little longer, because to be honest, you were scared. scared of his reaction, scared he wouldn’t want you, scared you’d be left alone. but you sigh, knowing you couldn’t anymore, and slump against the couch.

“atsumu...” you lower your voice, and instantly he cowers more.

“i‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it like that!” he yells, hands covering his face, “don’t hit me, i’m beggin—”

“no, atsumu,” you sigh, taking his hands into yours, “listen to me.”

he sees how serious your expression is and quiets down, bowing his head and leaning closer to you. the idiot still probably thinks you’re mad because he called you fat, you think. you would’ve laughed if you didn’t feel like puking at this moment.

“i’m pregnant,” you say, taking a deep breath, “we’re gonna have a baby.”

“hah?” he retorts quickly, “we’re what? no, we’re not.”

you watch as his face changes, and then he’s off again. “no, y/n, ya can’t be pregnant. i can’t be a dad. have ya met me? samu doesn’t even have a kid yet, ‘nd that’s like, the one thing i don’t wanna beat him at and— goddammit, i shoulda used condoms—”

 “atsumu,” you almost scream, the panic bubbling up in your chest, “do you not want to do this with me?”

“but, weren’t ya on the pill or somethin’? how could this happen?” he acts as if he hadn’t heard your question,” y/n, are ya sure it’s min—”

you can’t take it anymore and burst out crying. you don’t even pay attention to the fact that he just accused you of cheating. the stress from the weeks of keeping this to yourself explodes and you sob loudly, louder than atsumu’s panicked rambling.

“shit—” he curses, seeing your tears, and quickly taking your hands into his, “y/n, ’m sorry, i—it’s just—i’m gonna be a horrible dad, ya know? i don’t know if i can do this, it’s like... i’m not very reliable ‘nd ma always said—”

“but,” you sniffle through your tears, “aren’t we doing this together?”

he nods slowly, and then moves to rest his head on your chest. he tentatively puts a hand on your stomach, rubbing his index finger over it as if it were foreign to him.

“yeah,” he agrees quietly, “we’re doing this together.”

— akaashi keiji

you knew akaashi hadn’t wanted a child, not yet at least. you knew that, and yet when he said okay the night you told him you were pregnant, you were naive enough to think that it was actually okay.

he works, all the time, very hard. it only made sense, he had told you he needed to, in order to get to where he wanted to be. but it left you many nights, belly and feet swollen, joints aching, alone on the couch, wondering what you were doing.

did you eat your vitamins? he asks softly every morning without fail. but that was it.

you went to doctor’s appointments alone, you shopped for baby clothes alone, and you stared at the empty four walls of the baby’s room alone. you were too afraid to buy furniture for it: it seemed too permanent, especially when being pregnant seemed like a repressed dream every day.

"keiji, ” you call out to him early one morning, before he can leave for work again, “...let’s not have the baby.”

he doesn’t respond and for a moment you can’t even tell if he heard you. but then he’s whipping his head around, as if he had just realized what you said, and scrambles to kneel at your side.

“what’s wrong?” he places a hand on your belly, right beside yours, like he never had, “are you feeling—”

“you’re never here!” you cry, wincing at your own screech, “i don’t want to do this alone, keiji. i can’t do this alone. the baby started kicking yesterday, you know? and you weren’t there. i didn’t even know what to do. i’m not gonna know what to do. god, we need a crib and a c-changing table, and—”

you stop when he lays his head down on your lap. 

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles faintly, his hot breath seeping through your shirt. the kitchen is silent with your sniffles. you’re so tired, from the pregnancy or everything else, but you tangle your fingers in akaashi’s hair, and it brings you just an ounce of comfort. it’s soft as always, just like it was when you had started dating.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, turning his head to the side to face you, letting your fingers drift over his cheek, “i was taking on more work, to save money for... for the baby. i hadn’t— ...i didn’t realize i was neglecting you, y/n.” 

 you look down, “y-you were what?” 

 “i took on a new author,” he tells you, “and i asked around for some freelance work. i think we’re okay financially, but you never know, so i thought it’d be good to have extra—”

“keiji,” you interrupt, voice scratchy, “were you nervous?” 

“well, yes,” he admits, leaning into your palm, “but that’s no excuse for leaving you all alone. i can drop the freelance, maybe move most of my work back home—” 

you smile, the familiar sound of akaashi overthinking things a buzz in your ears. you brush your thumb over the wrinkles between his eyebrows, tracing the lines on his face, recognizing the way his eyes tighten when he’s serious. he looks up at you. 

“do you want to come to the doctor’s with me on thursday?” you sniffle softly, smiling at him. 

“...yes,” he nods, almost like a reflex, but you can see him thinking again, his stare blanking. you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, placing them over your belly. the focus returns to his eyes and he looks reassured, finally smiling back at you. 

“yes,” he repeats, “i’ll come with you.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Puppy.

Pairing: Yandere!Oikawa/Reader/Yandere!Iwaizumi.

Word Count: 2.5k.

Synopsis: It’s a pet’s job to make their owner happy, or their owners, in your case. You don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in how often you make Oikawa and Iwaizumi smile, how often they laugh, how happy they seem to be with you. You only wish they’d try to return the favor, from time to time.

TW: Hybrid!Reader, Implied Non-Con, Implied Dub-Con, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Possessive Mindsets, Threats of Abandonment, Mentions of Animal Abuse, and Questionable Implications. 

Sometimes, you could still remember how happy you’d been when Oikawa and Iwaizumi first took you home.

It helped that the shelter was such a bleak place to be, after a few weeks. It wasn’t unbearable – the volunteers were nice, you were fed twice a day, and there were plenty of other animals to play with, but the older hybrids were always so stand-offish and everything seemed just a little duller than it should’ve, the ill-fitting clothes a little too grey and the walls a little too plain, a shade of white that seemed to make your eyes burn if you lingered on it for more than a minute. You couldn’t complain, but they’d been a splash of color, in comparison, Oikawa, his smile brighter than the sun, and Iwaizumi, scowling and glowering and trying to pretend he didn’t know the strange man trying to fit his hand through the thin bars of your kennel. They’d been new. They’d been there for you, and you should get to feel happy about that.

You’d just been so excited, that first day. You’d tripped over your words when Oikawa asked for your name, laughed a little too loudly at every passing comment and half-hearted joke, and when Iwaizumi finally relented to ‘looking at’ the paperwork, your tail had wagged so violently, you’re sure animals on the other side of the shelter were able to hear it beating against the concrete. You’d wanted to go home with Oikawa, who pet you so gently and spoke to you so softly, and you didn’t mind Iwaizumi, even if he was a little more reserved than his partner. You’d wanted to find a home, one you wouldn’t have to leave. You’d been so, so happy.

You were still happy, in a certain way. Not as happy as you had been, but happier than you ever were in the shelter. Happier than you would’ve been. That was what Oikawa said, at least.

You were happier with than you could ever be, with anyone else.

Some days, you tried to believe it, too. Sleeping on his bed helped, his mattress softer than the thin mat you’d been given at the shelter, his sheets warmer, creating a nest of fleece and silk and wool you couldn’t help but fall into. Save for Oikawa’s shallow breaths, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the house was quiet, the road outside empty, the sun just barely beginning to rise. Despite Iwaizumi’s noticeable absence, it was cozy, homey in a way you’d craved every time another hybrid was adopted, every time you had to watch—

“I thought dogs weren’t allowed on the bed.”

The bedroom creaked swung open, Iwaizumi’s voice echoing through the small space. Immediately, you pushed away the memory, knowing better than to linger on things like that. You should be happy. Neither of them liked it very much, when you weren’t.

He must’ve been jogging, a fresh towel slung over his neck and his forehead still dripping with sweat, but Iwaizumi’s tone was jovial, energetic, that kind of lax, serene playfulness Iwaizumi seemed to exude, whenever he wasn’t forcing himself to stay on-edge. You squirmed, attempting to sit up and greet him properly, but the arm snaked around your midriff only held you tighter, pulling you in Oikawa as he groaned, his eyes only flickering open for a second before promptly clenching shut again. “You’re making my puppy nervous,” He mumbled, still obviously groggy. “Go away. You gave up your spot ‘nd you don’t get it back.”

There was plenty of room, really. You usually slept between the two, letting Oikawa cling to something warn while Iwaizumi scratched idly at the base of your ears, but still, you didn’t hesitate to wriggle out of Oikawa’s hold when Iwaizumi whistled, the simplest out of his many commands. You didn’t waste time, clambering to the edge of the bed, Iwaizumi watching on with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, only growing more apparent as you came to kneel in front of him. Despite your stiffness and your downcast gaze, your tail swept over the sheets lazily, a quiet show of your muted fondness that never seemed to go overlooked. He only laughed, a large hand coming up to ruffle your hair before he caught you by the chin, tilting your head back just far enough to press his lips against your forehead. It was a familiar display of affection. It was a display you really, really liked, if you were being honest. The volunteers were always blunt, at the shelter, too afraid of getting attached to be so liberal with their encouragement. Iwaizumi didn’t have to worry about that, though, and neither did Oikawa. You were theirs. As far as they were concerned, you were going to stay theirs, too.

The thought should’ve comforted you than it did, but you tried not to worry about that.

“Couldn’t get you to wake up, this morning.” He wasn’t whispering, but his voice was low enough to make the conversation feel private. Not conspiratorial, but personal in an intimate way, just bordering on uncomfortable. “Hybrids are supposed to be lively, aren’t they? Are you getting lazy on me?”

“’m not a dog,” You mumbled, the dismissal half-hearted. Iwaizumi was the stern one, the mean one. He knew how to take care of you, he knew what you needed and how you’d act, but he chose to get the details wrong, anyway. “Tooru lets me sleep in, and you run too fast. ‘s not fun.”

There was a pause, and he dropped his smirk. Instantly, you realized your mistake.

You moved to correct yourself, but a sudden pressure stopped you, two hands landing on your shoulders and a chest coming to press against your back, Oikawa’s taller form quickly eclipsing your own. He had to lean down just to nuzzle against the side of your neck, a throaty whine quickly filling the silence. “Puppy’s learning, Hajime. That’s a hard thing to do with such a shitty teacher.” You flinched back, your pointed ears dropping to your scalp, but Iwaizumi let the insult slide with a stifled huff. That was what Oikawa seemed to expect, remaining just as casual as he went on. “C’mon, you remember what you have to call us, don’t you?”

If it hadn’t been for Iwaizumi’s hand, you might’ve looked away. You wanted to, even if you really weren’t sure why, just yet. “Of course, master.”

This time, Iwaizumi sighed, the sound contented, pleased, proud in a way that made you proud, too. He’d never told you what it meant, and you’d never thought to ask, but Iwaizumi liked it. He was nicer when you used it, his touch just a little softer as he cupped your cheek, Oikawa’s laugh just a little louder, his arms falling back to your waist while his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his attention now refocused on his partner. “And you call me a pervert, Iwa-chan. At least I’ve never resorted to something so cliché.”

More words you didn’t know, more jokes you didn’t think were funny, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. You concentrated on staying still, instead, on not disturbing the happy little world Oikawa and Iwaizumi had made for themselves and been kind enough to bring you into, too. They rarely fought, but you still liked it when they got along, when Iwaizumi pushed Oikawa’s hair out of his face, when Oikawa giggled and melted into his palm. You were happy, when they did. You were the happiest when their attention was on each other, rather than you.

They kissed each other differently than they kissed you. Lips slotted against lips, eyes fluttering shut, a breathy ‘shut up’ and a mumbled ‘make me’ in response – soft, tender little interactions that you tried not to watch, from your spot on Oikawa’s lap. You tried not to, but you didn’t have much time to distract yourself, not before Oikawa’s fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, not before you were brought back to stubborn reality by a startling, throaty noise, something been a cry and a groan. Something that spurred Iwaizumi forward, despite how calm he’d been earlier. Something that made him just a little less inclined to being gentle, and a little more prone to getting… ‘carried away’, as Oikawa liked to say.

You almost made a run for it. You could apologize later, but Oikawa was quick to stop you, nipping at the edge of your jaw as his grip tightened, calloused fingertips soon digging into the meat of your thigh. “Puppy wants to play, too.” It was a drawl, this time, dragged out and melodic, a lethargic kind of inflection that made your heart beat just a little faster, that made you curl into Oikawa the moment Iwaizumi’s eyes shifted towards you. “You’re not gonna leave (Y/n) out, right, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi didn’t kiss you like he kissed Oikawa. He gave Oikawa a chance to reciprocate, he pulled away when Oikawa couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t as considerate with you. He probably just didn’t know he had to be. You were a hybrid, you were supposed to be tough, but you didn’t feel tough as his lips crashed into yours, as he caught you by the collar of your shirt, as he pulled you closer and closer and closer until you were forced to shove at his shoulders, to thrash against Oikawa, to misbehave. You didn’t like misbehaving. You really, really didn’t like being bad, but…

You liked the way Iwaizumi touched you even less.

Oikawa wasn’t any better. Even after Iwaizumi relented, his grin suddenly replaced by a small, stern scowl, Oikawa kept going, barely bothering to glace up while his mouth trailed along your jugular, the crook of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, leaving sore, tender bruises in his wake. Even now, they hurt, and they’d hurt more in the morning, but Oikawa didn’t seem deterred by the way you whimpered, how you leaned away from his touch. You weren’t sure why you thought he would be. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to stop himself, before.

“Someone’s fussy,” Iwaizumi called, speaking past you. Oikawa only hummed in response, letting Iwaizumi go on uninterrupted. “Don’t tell me you have a favorite. It’d be a shame if we needed to teach you that lesson again.”

“No, it’s just—” Denying it came instinctually, but so did faltering, cutting yourself short when you realized he wouldn’t like what you had to say. It felt made your skin crawl, when he touched you like this, when your owners looked at you like that. It didn’t feel bad, not at first, and you weren’t sure if it was wrong, but it felt like something you weren’t supposed to do, even if you couldn’t put your finger on why. “It’s not that,” You tried, and you weren’t lying. You’d be shying away from Oikawa, too, if you could. “I just don’t… It hurts when you—”

“When did you get so spoiled, cutie?” If Oikawa was still half-asleep, you couldn’t tell. He sounded lucid, perfectly awake and aware, perfectly able to make something in your stomach twist, a tight knot forming in the back of your throat. Being spoiled was a bad thing. You didn’t want to be bad. “It makes us so happy when you play along. I thought you wanted to make us happy, but…” When he trailed off, it was deliberate, a short silence punctuated by a click of his tongue. “I could’ve been wrong. Maybe our next puppy will be a little more grateful.”

They warned you about this, at the shelter. Bad owners, the volunteers said, owners who aren’t caretakers, owners who aren’t satisfied with the kind of companionship hybrids are meant to provide. They didn’t treat their pets with care, and in a way, neither did Iwaizumi and Oikawa. You never felt like they cared when you were pinned to the bed, when your head felt so full and your body felt so hot and all you could do was hope it’d end, eventually. They were bad owners, even if they weren’t bad most of the time.

But, if you said that, if you tried to run away, if you cried and growled and lashed out like you used to, like you had when Iwaizumi and Oikawa first brought you home, you’d be a bad pet. You’d be the bad one, and you knew what happened to bad hybrids. There’d been plenty of them at the shelter – dogs who couldn’t bite and cats without their claws, bad hybrids, mutilated hybrids. You didn’t want to be bad.

You really, really didn’t want to be bad.

It would hurt. You already knew it would, and there wouldn’t be a minute of it you genuinely enjoyed, but that didn’t really matter. You threw yourself towards Iwaizumi regardless, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest, wasting the distance you’d worked so hard to create. Iwaizumi was caught off guard, but he managed to recover quickly, a breath of a chuckle slipping past his lips, the sound barely muffled by your proximity.

“I’m sorry!” It was a desperate, fractured cry, but neither seemed to mind, Oikawa cooing as he rubbed circles into your hips and Iwaizumi just shaking his head, more a sign of disregard than disapproval. It didn’t matter. You’d already disappointed him. You were supposed to make him happy, and you hadn’t, you’d failed to. It was only fair that he got to disappoint you a little, too. “I didn’t mean it, please, I don’t want to go back to the—”

“It’s alright,” Iwaizumi soothed, as you broke into hysterics. “Tooru just likes being mean, ‘s all. You’re not going anywhere, even if you do still need some training.”

“Obviously. Iwa-chan’s too much of a softie for that.” Iwaizumi’s sympathy was minimal, manufactured, but Oikawa’s was practically nonexistent, his faux concern fading into a timbre of pleasant, numbing satisfaction. It was nice, how awful he could be at holding a grudge, but for whatever reason, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be very thankful. “But, I can’t stay mad at our puppy, ‘specially when you’re so timid. We just can’t trust anyone else to take care of you, not when you’re so easy to scare.”

You could’ve said something. You didn’t think you were timid, but you didn’t correct him, not as he pawed at your waist, not as Iwaizumi’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, not as your voice hitched in your throat and you lost your chance entirely. It was alright, though. This was for the best. This was good.

They’d taken such good care of you, at first. They’d made you so happy. They still made you happy, sometimes, and if you tried hard enough, you could make them happy, too.

Hopefully, if you succeeded, they’d stop trying to make you so miserable.

[f1united]

Zoo - DR3 Imagine

Daniel Ricciardo Imagine

Summary: You and Daniel are having a family day and talk about the future :)

Word Count: 2.9k

Please let me know if you have any f1 requests, I am more than happy to write anything for you!

As much as you loved watching Daniel race, you were grateful that you were able to spend some time with him now the season had ended. Although you were lucky enough to attend many races, your work schedule wouldn’t always allow it and you also wanted to still have time on the weekends to catch up with your friends and family.

You’d decided to spend this Christmas in Australia, it was your first away from home, but you were loving the warm weather and seeing a bit more of Daniel’s family. You had met them plenty of times now and were so thankful for how well you got on with them. It was late last night that Daniel had climbed into bed with you, he had been out seeing some of his old friends, leaving you to have the house to yourself that evening.

You loved spending time with Daniel, but it was nice to have some alone time after the busy race weekend. You had a nice long bath and a mini pamper session before painting your nails in front of the tv. You were so tired that you can barely remember him coming home, only noticing when the bed dipped beside you as he pulled you close to his chest.

Your early night may have been the reason you woke up so early the next morning. You weren’t really a morning person but had got a bit better at it over the years. Daniel’s family were coming over for breakfast and then the plan was to go to the local zoo. His nephew loved animals and when you had suggested the idea everyone couldn’t see why not, plus you hadn’t been to a zoo outside the UK and wanted to see if it was any different.

You rolled out of bed and into the shower. Your shoulders relaxed as the warm water hit your skin. It wasn’t as nice as the heat from Daniel’s body, but then you didn’t think anything could ever beat that. You stepped from the shower onto the fluffy bathmat, quickly wrapping yourself in a towel to dry yourself off. You walked into the dressing room opposite the bedroom and slipped on a nice summer dress. You rummaged through the drawers to find some nude underwear that would be discreet under the light colour of the dress but were unsuccessful, realising they must be in the utility room drying with the clothes you had washed yesterday. You placed your towel in the wash basket and made your way downstairs.

The view from Daniel’s kitchen was beautiful, the white rectangular island stretched for metres and looked across to the dining table and lounge area where you’d often have company. The folding glass doors separated you from a huge garden, some of his nephew’s toys were littered around the patio from when he’d last visited and the paving stones drew your eyes towards the pool.

You were lucky to have met Daniel, it had always been you dream to work in Formula 1 and you were beyond grateful to have had the chance to join McLaren in your early 20’s. Of course you knew who Daniel was, and he grew to know who you were. Working mainly at the office in the UK, you didn’t often see him to begin with. You weren’t too annoyed about it, as you fancied the pants off him and found it hard not to blush anytime he even looked in your direction. Your team was more in the background, didn’t attend races and just focused on the work at hand so when a few of your team members began getting invites you were slightly confused. You’d spoken to Zac Brown about it, he had interviewed you for your role and you had got on very well with him ever since. He had just said that your hard work had been noticed and smiled as you left his office.

Your team was overjoyed with the invites to races, it was something all of you had always spoken about. You were more of a family unit, you saw each other for hours on end every day and had grown so close that summer barbeques and birthday get togethers happened regularly, they made great drinking partners.

Whenever you’d see Daniel at a race, you’d wish him good luck as everyone else around him would too. However, you didn’t know he’d noticed how your eyes lingered on his body slightly longer whenever he was in his race suit or how you intensely stared at his hands when he ruffled his hair after he took his helmet off. It wasn’t really new to him, someone was always watching, but something about it being your eyes had got his attention. It made him slightly nervous if he was honest, but the thought of you watching meant he wanted to go out there and do the best he could in the hope that if he saw you after the race you might congratulate him with a smile on your face, and even the thought of that gave him butterflies.

Even though you were unaware of this, there was never a time he’d finish a race and you wouldn’t congratulate him. You’d grown up watching him race and just thought he was brilliant. A mixture of his personality and nonstop smile along with his determination meant that even in a race where Lewis Hamilton might even be about to win a championship, you would still be watching his car. Whether it was in 2nd or 16th, that’s where your eyes would be. Some of his crew has started to pick up on it, although the people you worked closely with sometimes joked about your little crush on him they never mentioned it outside of the group. As much as it was all fun and games, there was a mutual understanding that this was a professional environment and things like that weren’t to be joked about around management, and especially the drivers. It wasn’t any comments they’d noticed, they would tell Daniel after races how you’d been shouting at the screens just as much as they had, often louder. How you’d cheer when he overtook someone, even if it only meant it was for a single point.

Sometimes he’d question why they told him these things, a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice and they all rolled their eyes at him. They’d noticed how he’d look for you after a race, craving the smallest conversation from you and how he would instantly start paying more attention if he heard your name mentioned. They would poke fun at him and wind him up where they could but at the end of the day he understood he was there to race, and that’s what he did.

You were emptying the dishwasher when his arms snaked around your waist and kissed your shoulder before resting his head on it and whispering a small morning into your ear.

“I’ve been calling down for you, what has you in a little world of your own?” he questioned as you both swayed from side to side lightly.

“Nothing” you smiled as you placed the bowl you’d picked up on the side and turned around to face him.

“You sure about that?” he smirked as your eyes found his. “That smile suggests otherwise” It was true, you were grinning from ear to ear.

“Just thinking about when I first started coming to the paddock, and now here I am in the kitchen of the best-looking driver in Formula 1” he let out a small laugh as you spoke. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a small peck on the lips.

“What can I say? I’m great with the ladies” you playfully smacked him on the arm and frowned before laughing and turning your back to him to continue unloading the dishes. He moved his hands down from your waist to your arse as you bent over to grab something off the lower shelf. Then to your surprise he lifted the bottom part of your dress up.

“Daniel!” you laughed as you shot up and turned around again.

“You seem to have forgotten to put on underwear” he winked at you

“That isn’t my attempt to seduce you” you giggled as he started kissing your face. “It’s in the utility room”

“Lame excuse” he continued kissing you, starting to trail down your neck. Just before he could do anything else, the doorbell rang. He looked at you and groaned as you let out a laugh.

“I’ll go and put some underwear on while you let them in” you unwrapped his arms from around you and left a kiss on the corner of his lips as you made your way across the kitchen and he headed towards the door.

“Or don’t” he responded.

“I’m not really planning on flashing anyone accidently today” you replied. You heard him laugh as he opened the door and greeted his family. His parents and sister’s family made their way into the kitchen as you came out the utility welcoming them all with a hug. It had been a few months since you’d last seen them as you hadn’t been able to make it to all races.

“It’s so lovely to see you” his mum spoke as everyone began sitting down on the sofas. You were nervous when you first met his family. The age difference between Daniel and you wasn’t huge, but it had certainly gained some media attention. You didn’t want his family to think you were with him for his money and fame or even think that you were too immature to be with him. You had never brought it up with him before you’d met his parents, but he could sense you were nervous and knew why. He knew there wasn’t anything for you to worry about but didn’t say anything as he didn’t want it to play on your mind. He was right though, they loved seeing the two of you happy together and could immediately see how genuine your feelings for one another were.

“I’ve missed you guys; I’ve been looking forward to today for ages” you smiled. It was true, you loved spending time with his family. You had a relatively small family but that doesn’t mean it drama free, there was always something going on and here you felt slightly more relaxed. Daniel loved that, for years he couldn’t imagine bringing someone into his family in case they didn’t get along but when he saw how well you fitted in he couldn’t help but watch and smile.

“Y/N” his nephew shouted as he ran through the kitchen towards you. He held him arms out for you to pick him up and you placed him on your hip.

“How are you little man?” you asked

“I’m okay, look!” he said pointing down to a scrape on his knee.

“Oh no, how’d you do that?” you asked

“I fell over out there on the drive” he explained.

“Shall we put some cream on it?” you asked, “we don’t want it to get dirty do we?” he nodded his head as you spoke and carried him over to the medicine cabin and sat him on the worktop before grabbing some antiseptic cream out and rubbing it into his knee.

“Look Uncle Daniel!” he shouted across the kitchen to get his attention as he showed him his knee that now had a plaster on.

“Wow, Auntie Y/N has fixed you!” he gasped making the little boy giggle as you picked him up and put him down on the floor so he could explore wherever he wanted.

“Auntie Y/N?” you questioned Daniel as you began to get food out of the fridge for breakfast. You spoke quietly, you had never been called that before and didn’t want his family thinking that you were the one who wanted to be called that.

“What’s wrong with that?” he replied as he grabbed the eggs and bread from the cupboard next to you.

“Just haven’t been called that before, I don’t want him to think he has to call me that”

“He always calls you Auntie Y/N” Daniel said casually which caused you to freeze a bit. You had been dating for about 3 years now but hadn’t really considered that his nephew had grown up with you around and didn’t know any different. You continued to place the bacon next to the stove and grabbed a frying pan out from the drawer below.

After breakfast was over, you all headed to the zoo and spent the day wondering around visiting all of the animals. Seeing Daniel with his nephew made you smile, they had so much fun together. You also secretly loved when he went into dad mode like when he was making sure that he’d had enough to eat or drink and making sure he had enough sun cream on and wasn’t too hot. It made you excited for the future, not that you had spoke about it in much depth. You both wanted kids but hadn’t discussed when, you just figured it would happen when it felt right.

You all headed back to the house after the zoo, it was getting quite late, so you’d all ordered a takeaway. Daniel’s parents left not long after while the rest of you had some drinks, agreeing that they would all spend the night in the spare room so his nephew could stick to his routine. You didn’t drink much, only a gin with dinner. You wanted Daniel’s sister and her husband to have the chance to get a little bit drunk so agreed to stay sober in case something happened to the toddler and someone needed to be able to drive.

He was currently asleep leaning against your chest while you were all sat on the sofa’s chatting.

“I’ll put him to bed” Daniel’s sister went to get up from the sofa, but the sudden movement sent her head spinning slightly and caused her to sit back down. Everyone let out a little laugh as you volunteered yourself to carry him to the room and make sure he was settled for the night. As you carried him upstairs he stirred a little. Placing him in the bed he started muttering about the animals from today, you spoke back quietly, careful not to wake him even further as you stroked his head lightly and he drifted back to sleep. As you got up to leave, you jumped at Daniel standing in the doorway.

After shutting the door slightly so the noise from downstairs wouldn’t disturb him, Daniel spoke up. “I thought I’d see what was taking so long” he was slightly drunk, his eyes a bit drowsy compared to their normal alertness.

“I’ve been gone for about 2 minutes lover” you replied as he embraced you in a hug.

“I know I just like seeing you with him” now he was just being soppy. You laughed and took his hands into yours as you stepped back.

“I like seeing you with him too” you winked.

“Maybe,” he whispered as he hugged you again, “we should give him a cousin” he lifted you up as he spoke, and you wrapped you legs around his waist. He started walking towards the stairs but then walked past you towards the bedroom.

“Daniel Ricciardo we have visitors’ downstairs” You laughed as he carried you into the room and placed you on the side of the bed.

“They won’t hear if we’re quiet” he suggested as he ran his hand up your thigh.

“No but they’ll definitely know what we’re up to” you ran you fingers through his hair as he leaned over you before pulling him into a kiss. You continued for a minute or two until you could feel him starting to get hard against you. “We can continue this when everyone’s gone to bed” you voice was almost a whisper, you wanting this as much as him but not wanting to be rude to the couple sat downstairs, although if you’d have been drinking too you were sure it would be a completely different scenario.

It wasn’t until late the next morning after waving goodbye to his sister, brother in law and nephew that Daniel had mentioned your conversation from the night before. You both headed back upstairs to the bedroom, you were meeting some friends for lunch and both needed to get ready.

“I wasn’t kidding yesterday” You were doing your makeup in the ensuite mirror as he dried himself off from the shower. You were concentrating more on his body in the reflection than where you were spraying your setting spray. “I want to have kids with you”

With Daniel being older, it played on his mind that by the time you wanted kids, he’d be too old. He hadn’t wanted kids when he was your age and expected you to feel the same but he also didn’t want to be an old dad, he wanted to be involved with as much as he could for as long as he could. Even you thought you’d be a bit lost for words when having kids were mentioned. When you were younger you had wanted to have a secure career path and always imagined having kids in your late twenties, maybe even early thirties. However, things were different now. You loved your job and you had the man of your dreams alongside you.

“Let’s have a baby then”

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: May 15th Part 1

It’s been longer than usual since our last answer session, so I’m answering a ton of questions today! It’s so big I split it into two parts. Thank you for the patience on getting a response to these.

Thanks for reaching out to us with your questions and kind words ^^!

Sorry if this has been asked before or isn't something you can say but is there anyway for Cove to confess in step 4? I wanted him to confess in step 3 and followed all the steps to make him do it but ended up texting my family instead of Cove at the end.

Yeah, Cove can confess in Step 4!

Hello! I heard that Cove is on the spectrum, albeit undiagnosed. As someone who is ND, this makes me UNBELIEVABLY happy. I literally was brought to tears! Thank you for that!

Out of curiosity, will Cove be diagnosed in Step 4? I have a strong feeling y’all won’t make it a HUGE deal/make it out to be negative, so I’m not worried about that whatsoever! I’m just curious just he’ll off handedly mention it? Or will it just not be touched upon at all (which is ok!)?

Either way is ok, I’m just curious!

I’m happy it made you happy! Admittedly, Cove simply being someone with autism that grew up not being diagnosed was something I included for myself. I didn’t really think anyone would notice or ask about it, aha. But players did start to have questions about his traits, so I started to talk about it outside of the game. It’s great to see it get such a positive response and now I do feel like having it be a non-topic may have been the wrong choice and bringing it up would’ve been good in terms of having positive representation for that. I don’t know if I’ll find a way to mention it in Step 4 now, with how far along the game is, but I am at least thinking about it when originally it wasn’t something I really even considered.

Hey!  Just wanted to say thank you for Our Life.  It's been a bright spot and a needed escape in what's otherwise been a crummy year.  I know you just did a Q&A post but I figured I'd ask anyway.  Was just curious about Step 4.  Will it be similar to the other Steps in that it consists of several different moments or will it just be one long sequence?

Step 4 is shorter than the prior Steps because it’s just an epilogue rather than a full arc of a story. It’ll consist of scenes that all happen in a set row one after the other. There won’t be a collection of Moments to choose from. But it’ll still be very sweet and fun.

¡hola!, you see, first I want to say that I love Our Life! (°◡°♡) and I have 2 important questions, would Cove cry watching titanic? and what is the saddest part according to him? (sorry for my english) 

Titanic would make him cry. He’d probably think the parts showing people who aren’t able to make it to the life boats/are choosing to stay and go down with the ship were the saddest.

Hello, I wanted to ask how much you earn with creating games? Like is it possible to make a living? Thank you >< <3 

How much I earn varies a lot month to month based on Steam sales, Patreon backers, and how many projects are in full production at the time. It’s also hard to say how much I make historically, since that also changes dramatically year by year. But I do earn enough to work on these games full time! I really appreciate all the support that allows me to do that.

Hey!! I was wondering for the 18+ Our Life moment, will there be an emphasis on safety/comfort for all involved? I feel like there  would be just going off of what the rest of the game is like, but I wanted to ask 

Yes! Cove is a nervous boy himself and also super cautious about doing anything the MC doesn’t like, so clear consent from both is absolutely needed for anything to happen. It’s a conversational sexy times Moment with stops/starts so the two can talk about how they’re feeling, rather than a heat of the moment just going for it kind of thing.

Hey!! I was wondering how long the wedding dlc would be? Will it be broken up into moments, or just one big event? 

It’s one long series of scenes all in a row rather than a collection of Moments to pick from. It’s the shortest and the least expensive of all the DLCs. It’s not super crucial to get and those who aren’t into big weddings can totally skip it without worry.

HELLO AMAZING DEVS 👋 i am hopelessly in love with the worst guy ever (jeremy king) and because of this i have a really stupid question: does he really hate people who are nice to him? TvT he’s too cute to be mean to istg it’s a miracle JB held the urge to be consistently nice to him bc just look at his FACE he is so cute! thank you for jeremy’s route it’s so lovely (and awful bc he’s scum 11/10) it gave me so much laughs LMAO i hope you guys have a good day!! 

Haha, thank you. He doesn’t hate them but he’s certainly not pleased with them. Jeremy is either uncomfortable with or annoyed by people being sweet on him, depending on how they approach it. He’s far more comfortable with jerkiness. It lets him relax and he can be himself without it being a problem, since he’s also a jerk. He feels a level of guilt being such a little punk to kind people, not enough to be a better person but still.

Has Cove dated or been interested in someone other than MC? 

Nope! He stays single over the course of the game if he’s not with the MC.

Is Step 4 more mature? Or it's gonna be set in similar atmosphere as Step 3? 

Step 4 is a similar atmosphere as Step 3. Though, it’s actually kind of less mature-topic heavy than Step 3 since it’s just a ‘hey, let’s check in on the gang to see what they’re up to’ style epilogue rather than a story arc with serious issues.

will there be new music for now and forever?? or will the old our life music be reused? 

It’s gonna be a brand new soundtrack. We’ll be opening up a job position for that soon.

Hi, is it okay if we use the assets in Our Life (like the sprites) for fanworks or fan content content, like edits? 

Sure! Just as long as you don’t use the assets made by those artists to make money.

Quick clarification on Step 3 choices: I hope I didn't come off rude (because I LOVE the game, really!!), I was just curious because the intro threw me off at times. For example, you could choose how you felt about Elizabeth in Step 2 (Dinner), but during the Step 3 intro, it says that you got closer to Liz and I didn't get a choice in it. 

For the example, it can’t be helped that you’re closer to Liz in Step 3 than you were in Step 2 because she’s inherently closer to the MC regardless of whether you liked her or not in Step 2. Her feelings are out of your control and the game isn’t so dramatic that you can push her affection away and not let her bond with you, haha. But ‘being closer’ can still be relative. For some people maybe that means you’re best buds now and for others it might just mean you’re not fighting all the time any more. If there’s other parts you want to mention, feel free to let us know.

Did the illustrator for Our Life change? 

We have many OL artists! The main artists who set the game’s style haven’t changed, but there’s multiple other artists who help finish assets.

So Miranda's type is confident and outgoing, huh? So...does that mean Terri's her type?? 👀 

Haha, sorry for the late reply on this. As you might’ve seen in our post yesterday- yeah that is her type.

Hey! First, I just want to say I've really enjoyed how detailed OL got with gender identity and sexuality and how respectful the topics were handled! It's been so wonderful to play since the experiences could be close to my own (I'd be lying if I said I didn't tear up at parts). Second, I was wondering, would future games explore the topic of polyamory? I'd love to see more visual novels allow room for that and I saw you've explored the topic before.

Keep up the amazing work! ♡

Thank you! We do want to include polyamory in at least some of our future projects. Floret Bond, which might be what you’re referring to when mentioning how we’ve explored the topic before, is on hold unfortunately. So right now I’m not sure when something might release or what will be the first game of ours to come out with poly relationships (we might do something else before FB is done). We’ll have see how things ends up coming together.

Hey um. I feel like im not allowed to ask this on the private discord cuz people will yell at me but why is there so much focus on OL2 and not finishing OL1 stuff? I like the new people but i kind of want to finish cove's story and get derek and baxter stuff first. didn't people pay for it? 

I’m sorry, I don’t understand entirely what’s making that situation a concern. There’s a channel in the discord for critique where no one is allowed to comment back. People can voice things they’re worried about without any way for others to push back on it. And the two teams working on the OL games are different. We try to post pretty often about how we’re hiring brand new people to start on Our Life: Now & Forever. The OL1 team is all still working on OL1 like normal. There’s only more updates on the Patreon for OL2 because the expansions to the first game are mostly script-based at this point while OL2 is just starting to get all its art, which means there’s a lot more to show off as previews.

Also, there was a Kickstarter for the first Our Life, if that’s what you mean by people paying for it. But one of the stretch goals was to start Our Life 2 early, before fully completing Our Life 1, so that the new game could be out sooner. It wouldn’t make sense to stop doing OL2 work because that would be going against what backers were promised. Maybe you didn’t get the full story before and hopefully this clears it up!

Hello! I know it's up to every player but.. What is your recommendation for playing order? Did you ever had any timeline  events planned? 

I didn’t make the events with a planned timeline. The events got made simply as I had ideas for them and then I just kind of organized them from left to right on the screen in an order to space out more dramatic ones between more lighthearted ones. Any order the player wants to go with is totally valid!

Hi! It's Step 4 a paid dlc or update? And how long it's planned to be? Ps. Love the game! 

The Step 4 epilogue is free! The Cove Wedding DLC does cost money, though. Those are planned to be shorter than the usual Steps/DLCs.

Will we have options for what sort of job the MC might have by the time step 4 takes place? 

Yeah, you can. It’s not super exact or detailed, but there are options about it.

Is there a pandemic in Our Life world, or is it just in a better timeline with no pestilence? 

Our Life is pandemic-free! That didn’t exist when we began working on the project and it’s not something we’d like to feature in this story now that it has unfortunately come along, aha.

Hi, you said that you can play tic-tac-toe or hangman with Cove in Boating if you're sick/scared but I keep getting tic-tac-toe. Am I doing something wrong?

After being sick/scared you have to continue to be upset/unwell. If you calm down and decide to just chill you’ll end up playing tic-tac-toe.

Hi, GB Patch! Since Lee was initially commissioned to only appear in two Steps does this mean she won't appear in the Wedding DLC? I really like her character so it'll be a little weird to not have our cousin at our wedding, aha.

She is gonna be in Step 4/the wedding DLC after all! We’re still working with her creator to make sure it fits with what they wanted.

Is Sunset Bird based on a real place? Asking for a friend, not trying to move there or anything. 👀

It’s based on small beach towns in So-Cal, but not one specific town you could go see in real life, I’m afraid. It’d be nice if it was real, though.

—– —– —– —–

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

It Was You (Part Four)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

Read Part one, part two, and part three here (masterlist forthcoming)

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo​​. This chapter and others will fill the square of ‘fake dating’. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3446

Series Warnings: cursing, angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

Jensen woke to his cell buzzing on his nightstand, reaching blindly to silence the pestering noise. Lying on his back, he quickly peered through one half opened eye to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing it was Stacy, he hit the side button to reject her call, vowing he’d return it after ten more minutes of sleep. As he rested his head back on the pillow, you stretched slightly and rolled to face him as you slept, reminding him of how he’d carried you to his bed last night. You reached for him and pulled yourself under his arm to cuddle against him, throwing a leg over his as he laid on his back. He loved waking up next to you, no matter where it was. You’d shared a bed multiple times in your long friendship and he’d never felt as rested as when you were next to him, even if the vacancy was filled by someone else.

Jensen let his mind wander to what it would be like to wake up to you every morning, to take your friendship and turn it into something more. He would be lying if he said Y/n hadn’t been the first person that came to his mind when Stacy mentioned him settling down, and almost choked on his coffee when she agreed to be his pretend girlfriend. When he was young, he’d always just seen you as his best friend, but when he left for L.A. after his eighteenth birthday, the absence made him realize how much he’d loved you for so many years. It was a fondness that grew out of the shared intimacy and a longing bloomed within him, and it was no secret to him why it hadn’t worked out with anyone else. They weren’t you – they didn’t laugh like you. They didn’t touch him like you. They didn’t care for him in the way you did.

Since you’d moved to Vancouver, each time he’d get the nerve to bring his feelings up to you, you’d either be seeing someone or mention once again how much you valued his friendship. There were moments when he thought you may feel something for him to, between the lingering touches and occasional yearning gaze. When the time came, though, he’d always let his fears of losing you get in the way.

As you moved against him, trying to get closer to him in your dreaming slumber, his grip tightened around you to bring you to the spot no one else could seem to fill. You threw an arm around his waist and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your warmth seeping through him as your breath fanned across the tender skin. Jensen buried his face in your hair, inhaling a mixture of you and the floral scent of your shampoo, content to savor the moment where he could pretend that it was real, that maybe you wouldn’t scurry away when you woke to find yourself there.

You began to stir, breathing deeply and opening your eyes. You pushed against him slightly, just enough to peer up at him through your lashes.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Jensen whispered, searching your eyes for a long moment. He could have sworn he saw it, that fleeting passion that he could have sworn was intended for him. His eyes flitted to your lips, plush and full and slightly agape. It would be a dream to mold his mouth to yours and feel you let go. Your skin would feel like silk beneath his fingertips and he would savor every touch.

You seemed to study him, almost searching your brain for some sort of recognition.

You were in a blissful fantasy before you woke, wrapped in Jensen’s arms as he pinned you beneath him, nipping and licking at the exposed skin of your neck. In your hazed mind, you could still feel his delicious weight on top of you as he ground against you, and the burn of his scruff still tingled across your chest as he kissed down your body. His touch still ghosted across your skin but left no trace as your eyes opened slowly to be met with his emerald ones. It took your foggy, drowsy mind a moment to realize that you were no longer dreaming, but the fire in your core was still lit ablaze.

His eyes were filled with fondness as he looked down at you. Finding yourself in his arms as you woke still felt like a dream as your heartbeat rapidly sounded in your chest, until he began drawing patterns on your upper arm with his thumb. Your head rested against the swell of his shoulder and you could feel his stomach rising and falling with breath beneath your arm. He shifted a bit and you realized that your leg was tangled with his as your hips and body angled towards him.

“Y/n? You okay?” Jensen breathed, flitting his eyes between your eyes and lips as you stared at him, still playing catchup in your brain. He sucked in a breath when you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, still silently searching his features. He could do it – he could kiss you. He could feel every curve in his hands and feel every breath if he took the chance, and the way you were looking at him, eyes darkened with want, he began to lean forward, slowly and tentatively.

Jensen’s tongue ran across his plump lips and continued to trace small circles on your exposed skin before moving his hand to your hair. This wasn’t for show, and the weight of the intimacy bared down on you as he moved towards you, aiming for your lips.

As soon as your eyes fluttered closed, Jensen’s phone began to ring. His eyes snapped open with annoyance as he stared into yours. He didn’t want to pick up – whoever it was could go to hell right now, but when you smiled and told him to, he sighed heavily and grabbed his cell, seeing that it was Stacy once again.

She could usually take a hint, so this must’ve been important. Jensen gave you a sympathetic smile and pressed the button to answer.

“Hello?”

“Jensen? Good morning, it’s Stacy.”

“Yeah, how are you?”

“I’m great. Have you gotten the chance to check social media this morning? There’s some great stuff floating around about you and Y/n already. Apparently some paps got some photos of you two in town yesterday so gossip is buzzing.”

“Oh, that’s… good?”

“It sure is!” Stacy exclaimed, which you could hear from your spot, still tucked beneath Jensen’s shoulder as his grip on you never loosened. “Great job, you two. This is going well already. Keep up the social media stuff, but I wanted to warn you before you guys headed to the airport that there would probably some cameras around.”

Jensen’s eyes went wide, “The airport… right.”

“Yeah, I wanted to catch you before you got in. Are you about to leave? Your flight is in 3 hours.”

He snapped his head to face you as you realized what that meant, looking at him with a panicked expression. You needed to get your ass up and go.

“We’re about to leave soon. Cliff should be here in, uh,” Fuck, it’s 9:00. “20 minutes to get us.” He said, more to you than Stacy as he grabbed his watch from his nightstand when you rolled off of him.

“Alright, well you guys have a safe trip. I’ll be in touch soon!” her chipper voice echoed through his receiver before it clicked and ended the call. You were dashing around the room, gathering your sweater, shoes, keys, and phone before you had to run to your apartment to change and grab your packed suitcase, allowing Jensen to do the same. As you made your way to the door, Jensen called to you, still in his pajama pants and tight v-neck with his hair was gloriously tousled.

“We’ll continue this later?” He proposed, his voice deep and smooth.

You paused in the doorframe to respond, arms laden with your belongings. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and grinned, “I’d like that.”

He sighed a breath of relief through his smile before rushing to the adjacent bathroom to take a quick shower.

It was December 22nd, and the airport was going to be insanely packed, but between Jensen’s security needs and first-class tickets for the two of you to Austin, you were able to get priority registration and pre-checks.

You hurried quickly to your apartment, pausing momentarily when you shut your door to run your fingertips through your hair and calm your swirling thoughts. There was no question that he was going to kiss you, at least from your perspective. Could this really be happening? With a smile and a pounding heart, you ran to your bathroom to brush your teeth, freshen up, and change, opting for black leggings and a thick shawl. You threw some last-minute items in your makeup bag and slung it over your waiting suitcase, grabbing your scarf, sunglasses, and purse and you were ready to meet Jensen outside.

Cliff and Jensen met you at the waiting SUV and loaded your luggage into the trunk, Jensen sliding in beside you in the back seat. It was a short ride to the airport and was mostly spent with Cliff briefing Jensen of the security protocols he would be taking once you arrived. He was already prepared for the possibility of paparazzi being present and would be sure you had a clear path to the entrance.

With about five minutes until you arrived, Jensen leaned in to whisper, “Would you be alright with holding my hand? You know, when we go in? F-for the cameras?” he asked, his eyes hopeful and nervous.

Your smile faltered as he said the last bit, worried that maybe the arrangement was still at the forefront of his mind. Until he added, “Or, if you just wanted to.”

His features softened as the smile returned to your face and you agreed. “I mean, ya know… I’d be alright with it.” He said in a teasing fashion, puffing his chest as you giggled. Sliding his hand across the leather seat, he brushed his fingers across yours before entwining a few. Your cheeks began to tingle and your heart swelled within your chest, a feeling present that you’d never experienced before.

Jensen couldn’t get the image of you from this morning out of his head. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw you beneath him, biting your lower lip. It was driving him mad and he was more than sure you were going to kiss him back. Now, though, he was kicking himself for answering that phone call. He was kicking himself for not pulling you into his arms as soon as he hung up.

A short moment later and you were pulling up at the entrance, not entirely surprised to see a few people lingering around the pillars with cameras in their hands. It was a popular spot for folks in their profession, hoping to snap a few shots of celebrities boarding their flights and since the movie and television studios had just recently shut down production for the holidays, their odds increased of getting a good photo to sell.

“You ready?” Jensen asked, squeezing your hand as you stared out towards the building.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, “Yeah.”

“Hey,” he urged, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, alright? Cliff and I will be right here.”

You gave him a small smile, but deep down it wasn’t only safety you were concerned about. You knew that once photos surfaced of you and Jensen, the rumors would spread fast. Now, though, there would be some truth to them, or so it seemed.

Cliff exited the car and grabbed both yours and Jensen’s suitcase from the trunk before opening the passenger’s side rear door, allowing Jensen to step out. As soon as he did, loud clicks and a whirl of footsteps could be heard, with people surrounding the vehicle quickly. Cliff stood like an intimidating brick wall and bellowed at them, which made a few of them move back a few steps.

When Jensen turned and offered his hand, you put your sunglasses on and grabbed your bag, hearing the furry of camera shutters increase rapidly. Clearly, they were very interested in who Jensen was bringing with him.

You slid across the seat and took his extended hand in yours. When he helped you shuffle out of the vehicle, he laced a few of his fingers loosely with yours once again and made his way through the crowd of shouts and flashing lights, each of you pulling your suitcases as Cliff led the way. One reporter asked Jensen who his guest was, which made you laugh a bit. Another asked where you were headed, but those were the only few that you could make out in the chorus of questions. He waved graciously as he pushed passed them, continuously checking beside him to make sure you were alright. Jensen’s hand tightened around yours and he looked at you through his darkened glasses, giving you a grin. When you returned his smile, you realized that it may be for show, but he never dropped your hand even after the cameras were behind you.

Cliff said his goodbyes when he ensured that you made it safely to the TSA pre-check. He would be heading home soon also, but his flight was a red eye that night so he would have time to pack himself. He gave you a fleeting, knowing look as his eyes casted down to yours and Jensen’s entwined hands, the tiniest smile adorning his lips.

After going through the security check, you and Jensen explored the shops at the airport and grabbed a coffee before taking a seat at your gate with fifteen minutes to spare before they began boarding. A few fans approached him and asked for an autograph or photo and he was polite and chatted with each of them as you smiled from the sidelines. He was always so gracious with the people he met, and it made you a bit proud. It was just another way that he’d proven to stay true to who he was even now that he was recognized almost everywhere he went. It had taken a bit of getting used to when it began and now his fans were calling you by name. When he and Jared were together, there was no stopping the barrage of passersby.

The few people gave you a wave as you sat next to him and you offered to take their photo for them before they ran to their own flights that were departing soon.

Jensen beamed as he waved them goodbye before turning to you, “You know, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that.”

Laughing, you commented, “Well, I can’t blame them. They get excited seeing you in the ‘wild’.” You joked.

He sat back and stifled a yawn before taking a sip of his coffee, “You okay? Are you tired?” you questioned.

“Oh, yeah. I’m good. I’ll be fine once we get on the plane.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ll be asleep before we reach the end of the tarmac.”

You were jealous of his ability to sleep on planes, but since he began traveling so much he learned to get some shut eye where he could and now the whirl of the jet engines was a lullaby to him, almost putting him to sleep instantly.

“Well, if you snuggle with me, I’ll be a goner, for sure.”

He gave you a suggestive look and wiggled his eyebrows. Before you could respond, the attendant began to call rows for boarding, meaning you and Jensen were some of the first needed to get in line.

He stowed both of your bags in the compartments when you found your seats, opting to give you the window and asking for an extra pillow or two from the attendant. When you sat, Jensen leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Two o’clock.”

You turned to view what he was talking about, knowing that he was signaling you to look in a specific direction. Sure enough, in the row directly behind you to the left, there was someone with a phone pointed in your direction, seemingly hoping to get a photo of Jensen. This meant the two of you couldn’t necessarily talk freely during the flight, especially about what happened that morning, as many people were in earshot.

Giving you a small smile, he reached for your hand after he’d buckled in, clasping it in his as the plane roared down the freeway and took off towards Austin.

Sure enough, Jensen fell asleep against your shoulder about a half an hour into the flight, so you quietly ordered a drink and a snack and caught up on some Netflix on your phone, gently plugging your headphones in your ears so that you wouldn’t wake him.

You were lucky to have a direct flight into Austin, and Jensen woke up about an hour before you landed. You laughed and chatted about random things, just passing the time until the wheels touched down. He held your hand once again as you exited the airport, his fingers searching out yours expectantly and gripping them tight. He began to scan the crowd for Jared, who smiled widely and waved frantically when he caught sight of you as he towered above everyone else in his surroundings.

As he drove you through the streets of Austin to his home, he caught you up on the details of the party tonight, “Gen decided she wanted to do an ugly Christmas sweater themed party, so she grabbed you both one to wear. Don’t blame me, she and the boys picked them out.”

“Oh goodness…” you commented. “I hope Gen looked out for me a little.”

Jared threw his head back in laughter as Jensen looked at you from the passenger’s seat, turning his head to shoot you a look of yeah right as you sat in the back.

You were met with hugs from the Gen and the littlest Padaleckis as soon as the car pulled in the driveway and Tom whisked you away to show you the drawings he’d made for you and Uncle Jensen.

“Hi to you too!” Jensen shouted as they ran inside, pulling you by your hands to follow as you turned to stick your tongue out at him. They loved him, truly, but he was all but forgotten when you were there with him. He waved you off and rounded the car to grab your bags, Jared popping the trunk and helping.

Jared clicked his tongue and pressed, “So… Things are… different?”

“What do you mean, man?” Jensen retorted, feigning innocence.

“You and Y/n. There’s something there that wasn’t there before.”

Jensen sighed, but couldn’t help the smile that bloomed against his cheeks as he ran his hand along the scruff of his jaw.

“Or,” Jared interjected. “Or maybe it’s something that’s always been there?”

Jensen looked at his best friend with a bit of worry in his eyes, feeling as though he’d just been caught. Jared had always known how much you cared about each other and had his suspicions that you each had more feelings than you were letting on, but Jensen had never confessed it to him in all the years he’d known him. It was the one thing they didn’t share, partially because Jensen knew he’d never hear the end of it and Jared would try some sort of scheme to get them together. If it happened, he wanted it to happen organically, not because of the meddling of his 6’4 goofy-puppy co-star. The truth was, though, Jensen was still afraid of ruining your friendship. He never wanted to lose you, ever.

Jared noticed the energy his friend was giving off and tried to offer him a bit of solace, “Hey, man. Not to worry. You two have always been together, just not together. This may have started as an arrangement, but maybe it’s just the open door you both need to explore your feelings? Maybe this is the way you two stop dancing around each other. Maybe this is the push you needed.” He clasped his hand on Jensen’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile, his lips curling on one side before he shut the door to the garage.

Jensen thought about his friend’s words, a new sense of courage blossoming within him and making his heart stammer and swell.

“Yeah, maybe.”

To be continued...

…………………………………………………………………………………………

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It was you

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Jensen Only

@mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​​

[kimnjss]

dating rich | ksj

⤑  series: sugar free

⤑ genre: fluff, rich!jin x artist!reader, college au.

⤑ rating: PG13

⤑ word count: 3.4K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any, lmao.

⤑ A/N: today was a bit of a busy day so this is later than i wanted it to be! (im in the process of moving) buuut, it’s here and i really like it :( they’re kinda cute ngl . let me know what you think ! x

You hadn't been expecting the knock at your front door, was weary on your way down the steps to see who was standing on the other side. A large man, black hat pulled low on his head shuffled on his feet from behind the peephole. A box tucked underneath his armpit.

 Watching him, you waited until he did the normal delivery man thing – dropping the box outside of the door and ditching second after knocking; not even giving you a chance to reach for the doorknob. He didn't, though. Seconds passed and the man just stood there, waiting for you to open up.

 “Package for Miss Yn,” His deep voice had your body jumping as if he had sensed your presence on the other side of the door. With a quiet breath, you were reaching for to pull the door open, caught off guard by the dazzling smile of the tall man. “Are you Miss Yn?” He asked, that grin not wavering for a moment.

 “Yeah, that's me. I didn't order anything, though.” You kept good track of your orders, knew when you would be expecting a visitor. Never could be too careful as a young girl living on her own.

 “It's from Master Seokjin, a dress for tonight.” The man was holding the box out to you and you couldn't hold back the urge to roll your eyes. Did this guy really have his own delivery service where the workers referred to him as 'Master'? How ridiculous. “Great, thank you.” You forced the smile, watching as the man nodded before taking a few backward steps down the stairs.

 Pushing the door closed, your attention was dropping to the box in your hands. It was neatly wrapped, probably done professionally with the way this man loved to throw his cash to the wind. A pretty gold bow holding the thing together and you weren't gentle with the way you tugged at it, watching as the careful ribboning came undone.

 With the lid now off, you were faced with the expertly folded laid inside. A creamy white color, silky to the touch. Noting how short it was when you finally talked yourself into pulling it from the box. Singed at the waist with a matching belt tie, the dress was beautiful. And you didn't have to peak at the price tag (that he didn't bother to detach) to know that it was expensive.

 You had been so enthralled with the fabric, you almost missed the items that laid at the bottom of the box. A pair of long dangled silver earrings beside a pair of matching silver stilettos. This man sure paid a great deal of attention to detail. There was a note placed just below the sole of the shoe.

 Lifting it, your eyes scanned over the words written, not being able to fight the smile breaking onto your lips.

 'don't you think this is much prettier than some tired cocktail dress? (no idea what you have in your closet) – nd no offense either. like i said, im sure you look great in everything. though, i heard chiffon does wonders for a pretty woman; wanted to test that theory.'

 A compliment hidden somewhere within his obvious need to flaunt his wealth. It was kinda sweet and he wasn't wrong, this dress was much nicer than any old thing you would've thrown on at the last minute.

 If you were going to be dating rich... might as well look the part, right?

 Another knock sounded at your door exactly five hours later. 18:27. Three whole minutes before Jin had told you he'd be picking you up. Was he extremely punctual or just excited to see you? Not allowing yourself a moment extra to mull over the question, you were pulling the door open, new dress hugging your body, heels adding to your height, and earrings fastened in your ear.

 Jin took his time taking in your appearance, a not so subtle jaw dropped expression as his eyes scanned over the way the fabric hugged your body. “You look amazing,” His words were riddled with disbelief, hushed as if he was speaking to himself.

 Either way, that smile was pushing its way onto your lips. Not able to place just why you were so fond of receiving compliments from him. Maybe it was the fact it seemed as if he actually cared how you looked... you the fact that $3,421.78 made you feel desirable. No need to mull over that either.

 “Thank you,”

 He nodded, acknowledging your gratitude before offering up his arm for you to hold. “Minho is keeping the car warm for us, come on.” Only then were you noticing the shiny SUV parked directly in front of your house? The same man from earlier standing outside of it, ready to pull the door open when needed.

 Your hand fit nicely against his bicep, heels clicked as you stepped forward pulling your front door closed behind you. Jin led you down the steps, advising you to watch your step as he brought you to the car.

 Minho greeted you both with a soft smile, the back door of the car being pulled open and Jin was ushering you in like a true gentleman. The door was closing behind you and moments later, Minho was climbing into the front seat and shoving the car into gear.

 The car ride to the restaurant was uncomfortably silent. You couldn't come up with something interesting to say and couldn't stop scolding yourself for actually wanting to say something to pique his interest. Jin was quiet, uncharacteristically so. Eyes staring out the slightly tinted window as his leg bounced quickly next to you.

 Was he nervous? Doubtful.

 You took to fumbling with the hem of your dress, counting down the moments until the car was stopping and you'd be inside of the restaurant. Actually hungry and excited to try the food there. $50 a plate (you had surfed the website for their cheapest dish, that was it), their food had to be good, right?

 Relief is instantly washing over you as Minho is sliding the car to a stop, stepping out without a word to open the door for both you and Seokjin. An innocent hand lands on the small of your back as the two of you make your way toward the entrance and, surprisingly, you lack the urge to bat it away.

 “Hey, Dae-Ho!” His bright personality is back, complete with his matching smile as the two of you approach the man standing at the door. Dae-Ho? Is turning, a grin spreading on his lips as he spots the two of you. Of course, they knew each other.

 Jin is clapping hands with Dae-Ho, engaging in that generic guy handshake where they pat each other on the back while holding hands but not getting too close. “It's been forever, dude. You don't shadow your old man any more?” Dae-Ho is wondering and Jin is quick to shake his head.

 “Not as much... think he was afraid if I learned too much I'd surpass him too fast,” Jin is joking and his friend is letting out a heartfelt laugh, eyes squinting as he shows off his perfectly white teeth. When the laughter dies down, the guy's attention is zeroing on you. He stares for a moment, brow arched as he watched you, waiting... for what?

 If Jin notices the weird moment, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't even bother to drop his hand from your waist, just continues on smiling at his friend and speaking up without missing a beat. “Is Moonie around?”

 Moonie? How many people did this guy know behind these thick glass doors? Dae-Ho is nodding his head, reaching for the walk-y that was clipped to his waist. He speaks into the receiver, voice much deeper and direct now. “Moon, there's someone here to see you.”

 'Moon' is coming out just minutes later. A short silver-haired girl with small features and a pointed nose. Her smile is large when she spots Jin, not hesitating to pull him in for a tight hug when she's able to reach. “Wow, where have you been Jinnie?”

 “You know around,” Jin shrugs. “Heard you bought your father out, took his name off all the papers of this place...” The girl is nodding excitedly at Jin's words, leading the two of you past the front doors as they continue to catch up.

 So he was close to the owner? Seemed like old friends from the way they addressed each other and smiled so fondly. With a snorted laugh, she was sitting the two of you down in a quiet corner of the place. “I haven't seen you in so long, man. This one's on the house, whatever you want.” She's handing a menu over to you, that pretty smile taking over her features again.

 “Wow, I'm so rude. Is this your girlfriend? What's your name?” You tried not to flinch at the label, pushing a polite smile onto your lips as you got ready to answer. “I'm not-” You start, quickly being interrupted by Jin.

 “This is Yn. We go to school together,” Moon takes a moment to look between the two of you, obviously picking up on the tension but not saying much about it. “That's cool, then. Let me go grab a server for you two,” She's turning to leave before either of you could weigh in.

 “Why didn't you let me correct her?” Jin is looking at you with a furrowed brow, shoulders shrugging before he's reaching for the glass of water placed on the table and taking a long sip. “Did it really matter?” Did it? Maybe it didn't... it wasn't like you were ever going to see that girl again. And the two of you weren't exactly friends.

 What was he supposed to introduce you as? The girl that he was kinda interested in, but not really because he was probably this way with any girl he found remotely attractive. Yeah, that was definitely a mouthful.

 No, wait. It did. Girlfriend was a big deal. And you had just barely agreed to go on this date with him. Two people can go on a date without being accused of actually dating. That's not weird to say. He was courting you and that was the bottom line, nothing had been promised.

 Through your mess of thoughts, a small fact was hitting you. He knew the owner of this place and acted as if the two of you would have trouble getting in based on what you wore. So why had he insisted on buying you a new dress if he knew that wouldn't be a factor?

 Sat across from you in a nice but regular button shirt tucked into a pair of simple black jeans. Everyone else around you two was dolled up, so there most definitely was a dress code, yet he didn't have to follow it because his friend was the owner. So why a new (expensive) dress for you?

 Something wasn't adding up.

 As much as you didn't want to admit it, having dinner with Jin wasn't as bad as you had assumed it would be. He was kind, funny, and all-around an entertaining person to be around. It was as if he genuinely enjoyed seeing you laugh, hearing the sound of it, and was ready to spew out joke after joke just to hear the sound.

 He had ordered for the both of you, warning you quietly that not many things on the menu were all that appetizing. Well, he thought he was being quiet, he did however earn an eye roll from his friend Moon who hadn't been too far from the table. 

 The awkward laugh that left his lips, oddly, warmed your heart pushing a smile onto your face and breaking the layer of ice you had been keen on keeping intact. Jin listened intently to the answer to each question that he asked, seeming honestly interested in what you had to tell him. Wanting to actually know more about you and your personality rather than just asking the questions to fill the silence.

 You told him whatever came to mind, not being able to hold back after realizing that he was interested in what you had to say. Told him about your dreams as an artist, your love for literature, and film work. Even told him the embarrassing story of the time you thought you could be a poet and actually entered a poetry slam.

 He had a good laugh hearing your story end in stumbling off stage in fear, tripping over the microphone on the way, and busting your ass in front of the entire audience. You couldn't silence his laughter after that and quickly, you were urging him to make up for it with an embarrassing story of his own.

 Which he shared without a second thought, animatedly telling you about his friends and the times they got themselves into a mess, the sound of his laughter interrupting his words more often than not. As the seconds of the night ticked by, you found yourself feeling more and more comfortable around this man.

 Almost had you second-guessing the snap judgment you had made prior to this. How quickly you decided that you weren't interested in getting to know him when he was kind of great when it came down to it.

 A gracious tip was left on the table, despite the meal not needing to be paid for. With a soft smile, Jin's reaching to set his hand on the small of your back once more; leading you out of the restaurant with the gentlest guidance.

 Moon is stood at the front door, flicking through the menu as the two of you pass her. She looks up immediately, waving with that brightest of smiles. “Come back soon! You need to treat your pretty girlfriend as often as possible,” She's calling out. It's not even hard for you to push down the urge to correct her, only pushing a smile onto your face and waving back.

 Jin nods grins at his friends before the two of you are exiting the building. Minho is pulling up just as the two of you are stepping out. Dae-Ho nowhere insight when you look for him, but you're not given the chance to wander with the way Jin's ushering you into the backseat of the car.

 “So,” He's prompting after a few moments driving in silence had passed. Your attention had been out the window, watching the trees as they whipped by and trying to wrap your mind around how pleasant this evening had been. Wondering just how your guard had managed to slip, Jin letting himself in without a second thought.

 You turn to face him, a smile instantly lifting the corners of your mouth at the sight of him. Had he always been this unbelievably handsome? “You had a good time tonight, huh?” He's asking with that cocky smile of his and out of habit, you're rolling your eyes.

 “It's alright,” You shrug, turning your attention from him to hide the coloring in your cheeks. If you hadn't looked away, you would've seen the cute way Jin rolled his eyes at you, his body sinking into the comfort of the leather seats as his head turned to get a better look at your profile. “Just alright? That grin hasn't left your face since we sat down. Not that I'm complaining,”

 You're quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right. Not like he even needed it, the evidence was right in front of his face. He doesn't push it, his attention going to the window at his side of the car.

 “I had a really good time tonight,” It sounds more like a silent confession than a declaration meant for you. As if he couldn't believe it himself. You couldn't either, but you don't say anything. So positive that this was just tonight. No matter how much fun he was, how nice, how attractive... he was still the same Kim Seokjin. Still, the same womanizer name riddled with rumors.

 Who knows if this wasn't just a calculated plan he used each time he took some girl on a date? Yeah, you weren't falling for it. Couldn't believe you almost let yourself believe it was any different.

 You're quiet the rest of the ride, mind reeling. So badly, you wanted this night to be more than just... some night to him. It had been a good time and it kinda sucked that you knew this would be it. 

 Minho is pulling up in front of your house and before he can move, Jin is opening up the back door. He turns to offer a hand to you, much like a true gentleman would. You're accepting it, allowing him to pull you out of the vehicle.

 “Have a good night, Minho!” You're calling over the shoulder, the man in the driver's seat jumping slightly at the mention of his name but quickly replying with a quick goodbye and a large smile. 

 His hands slip into the front pockets of his jeans as he leads you up the walkway to your front door. An awkward silence fell over the two of you and you had no idea what you were supposed to say in a moment like this. Thank you? See you around? The date was great, too bad we can't do it again? All horrible conversation starters that you had no idea how to steer.

 Silence was the best option.

 Jin stops once you're at your front door, hands shoved in his pockets while he toes with a loose pebble. Head ducked as if the stone of your porch is the most fascinating thing, but you can still see the tint in his cheeks. He was blushing? But why?

 Was he fixing to ask if he could come up? Complete the night like you were sure he and his friends prided with. Minho still hasn't moved from his spot, does that mean he was planning to just come up for a quicky and meet Minho back downstairs?

 He's lifting his head and you prepare yourself for the question, ready to reject the idea of a quick fuck that most likely followed his dates. Did he think just because you had a good time you'd be willing to give yourself up to him? Not happening.

 “Did I manage to change your opinion on me?” His voice is hushed, almost as if he's afraid of the answer. Did he really care that much what you thought of him? Why you? Why did your opinion matter so much to him?

 Slowly, the pieces were starting to fall into place. The expensive dress, the way he flaunted his connections within in the restaurant you picked, how interested in you he seemed to be throughout the whole night... not to mention the shy way his fingers would brush yours as if he wanted to hold your hand the whole car ride home.

 Was he actually interested in you? The thought had a smile pushing on your lips and you hated the easy effect the idea of Jin having a crush on you gave away. Before you can talk yourself out of it, think it all the way through – you're stepping forward, hands braced on his biceps as you lean on your toes.

 His lips are warm against yours, very soft. It takes Jin a moment to realize what's happening, that your lips are pressed firmly against his but once his mind is settling, he's slipping into it. An arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close while he slowly moves his mouth over yours.

 You don't let the kiss become too deep, your head already spinning. You pull away just as he steps forward, looking up just in time to see the dopey smile on his face. You can still taste his lips on yours and figured that will be enough to hold you over for the night.

 “I wouldn’t mind doing this again,” You watch the way his eyes light up at your confession, his cheeks tinting pink. “That's good, then!” He's taking backward steps off your porch, eyes never leaving you.

 “I should call you then?” He wonders and you nod, turning to unlock your front door. “Yeah, call me.” He offers a quick wave before he's turning and you watch him walk all the way to the car, slipping into the front seat next to Minho.

 Faintly, you can feel the pressure of his lips. His strong arm wrapped around your waist. How nervous he looked before asking if you had thought differently of him. Had you? You couldn't know for sure. But maybe you were wrong about him.

– rich, spoiled and a bit of a womanizer. but underneath all of that, there’s a heart of gold. and no matter how determined she is to reject him, he won’t stop trying until she sees he’s kinda sweet.

↲ masterlist ↳

taglist: @randomkoalablog​​​ @smoljams​​​ @dee-ehn​​​ @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​​ @lilacdreams-00​​​ @sw33tnight​​​ @bangtansonyeondayyyum​​​ @okblve​​​ @jinhitwhore​​​ @tae165​​​ @hellotherehoneybee​​​ @bangtansbun​​​ @betysotelo18​​​ @cherriigguk​​​ @koostime​​​ @kooinluv​​​ @butterflylion​​​ @kookiesjoonies​​​ @uxwi​​​ @honeyoongles​​​ @imajiningseokjin​​​ @amoreguk​​​ @beeeb05​​​ @tommasauras​​​ @bluefaeriefury​​​ @butterflylion​​​ @withlovestudyblr​​​ @samros95​​​ @korkanswers​​​ @houseofarmanto​​​ @soulstaes​​​ @thesunisup-theskyisblue​​​ @jinsearth​​​ @aizuwusho​​​ @moonb0yy​​​ @tan-dulset​​​ @8sjaf​​​ @mini-coop25​​​ @marifujioka​​​ @sunskook​​​ @elliemeetsevil​​​ @ratking101​​​​ @leovaldezisfire​​​

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

[zwowow]

this might be very triggering so its fine if u dont do it, but kells self harming secretly and em finding out and kells thinks he’s gonna be mad but em is comforting instead

sorry for the ask, im the same anon that went thru a break up and it aint going well

tw: self harm 

I’m sorry my love, break ups are rough and it really sounds like ur goin thru it. sorry this took a while! but hopefully you’ve had time to heal a bit between sending this ask nd now. 

psa to all I’ve never self harmed, so i’m just hoping this captures the idk headspace? alright :/ 

He started when he was a teenager. That’s how long he’s been doing this shit. It’s fucking shameful that he hasn’t grown out of it in over a decade, but it’s also one of the only things that’s consistently soothed him. When weed isn’t enough to calm him, or shake him from a spiral of self-loathing, he always comes back to this. Not because it makes him feel better, but because it makes him feel something. 

He can focus on the pain and only the physical pain. His emotions, the real world shit he has to deal with, can fall to the side for a moment and he can revel in the hurt. The hurt that he has control over. 

That’s a part of it, too. Control. So much of the existential pain he feels is beyond what he himself can change. Everyone gets to have an opinion on him, and regardless if it’s good or bad, he has to know it and internalize it. He has no choice. Time moves on and he can’t control what his past self has done, but the regret eats him alive. His head spins when he thinks about all of the shit that’s wrong in his life that he no longer has the power to change. 

But the harm he does himself? Knowingly and methodically? It’s all controlled. He’s got it all under control. 

Or at least he did. Recently, he’s had the itch to hurt more and more frequently. There’s so much going on in his life that he’s no longer in control of even the one thing that makes him feel grounded. The old scars and fresh wounds are getting harder to hide. Even on his inked skin, raised bumps and sensitive bruises are easy to find when his boyfriend spends all of his time roaming his hands gently over his body. 

But Em can’t find out. Colson refuses to let him. He’d think Colson is pathetic (he is). He’d be disgusted by him (he should be). He’d hate him (but he couldn’t hate him more than Colson hates himself). 

He tries not to hurt himself around Em because of this, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Sometimes he needs it. 

Colson sneaks out of bed one night at Em’s place while his boyfriend is sleeping. On his way out, he grabs his small bag that has just a few of the items he uses to hurt himself. His fingers shake around the bag and his breath quickens in his chest. 

Ain’t it funny that the shame he feels from doing this just makes him want to do it more? 

When he makes it to a bathroom far enough away from Em’s room that he doubts he would make the effort to find him all the way down here, he lays the bag on the counter and opens it up. 

This hadn’t started with the razor blades and lighters he keeps in the bag. He’s worked himself here from pulling out his leg hair and scratching his own arms raw just to feel the sting. The older and more well known he got, the more out of control he felt, and from there he made the jump from nervous ticks to genuine self harm. 

He used to starve himself, too. He thinks back to only a couple of years ago and picks up the lighter. He could go days without eating, even while on tour. There were times where he’d pass out after shows from the hunger, but he’d write it off to others as exhaustion. That had been one of the most pleasing ways to hurt himself. The gentle build up to physical depletion to match what he felt emotionally was fulfilling in a way he couldn’t possibly explain to anyone. 

And that’s why he stopped. Em started to catch on. He started to ask questions no one had asked before. He was obsessed with feeding Colson and keeping him healthy. 

Colson started eating regularly because Em would’ve hated to know his not eating wasn’t just absent-minded forgetting. He would’ve been so disappointed to find out it was deliberate starvation. Colson didn’t want to disappoint Em. 

He still doesn’t. Colson puts the lighter on the counter and takes out one of his blades, too. Em would hate to see this. He wouldn’t understand. 

Inhaling shakily through his nose, Colson looks between his two options for tonight. He leaves the blade on the counter and picks up the lighter. Em is sure to notice if he has a fresh cut. A burn is easier to hide. 

He flicks the lighter to life and is deciding where to hold it on his body when he hears the first knock. 

“Kells.” Shit. He loosens his grip on the lighter and the flame goes out. 

What is Em doing out of bed, and what the fuck is he doing down here?

“Kells,” Em tries again, “You good?” 

“I’m fine.” He lies. 

“Are you fucking smoking in there?” Outside, Em’s voice grows suspicious. He heard the lighter go on and now he thinks Colson is smoking weed in his bathroom. That would be easier to explain. 

After too long of a pause he says, “No.” 

Em doesn’t give a warning before he throws open the bathroom door. Colson wants to knock his head into the mirror for not thinking to lock it. He dives for the blade on the counter, but Em is staring right at it. 

“What the fuck?” Em looks between Colson and the counter multiple times. It’s a stupid overdramatic response, but he wants to slit his fucking wrists from that look. 

Em’s brow furrows. Colson feels sick to his stomach. Em is pissed at him. He’s disgusted by him. He doesn’t know whether to throw him out or call a mental hospital. He hates him. He must be so angry. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out. I was trying to hide it. I shouldn’t have done it here. I know it’s fucking sick. I know it’s fucking crazy to cut and burn myself, I know but I...” Excuses and apologies trip over each other running off of his tongue. 

“You’re cutting yourself?” Em interrupts him. His intense gaze sweeps over Colson. He’s not disgusted or angry like he’d thought. He’s shocked, confused, and even a bit hurt. 

“I... yeah.”

“Why?” A loaded question like that shoots Colson right through the chest. Why? He can hardly answer the question to himself, how is he supposed to explain it to Em?

Em said it himself, he was just clownin’ when talking about cutting himself, how fucked up does someone have to be to actually do that? Colson doesn’t want to explain to Em how fucked up he is.

When he doesn’t answer, Em looks back down at the blade and then at the lighter still in his hand. Kells sees the thousands of things he wants to say and the million questions he wants to ask in his eyes. Finally his eyes set, and Kells braces himself for the next thing to come out of Em’s mouth. 

“Don’t do that shit tonight, yeah? Just come back to bed.” The response shocks Colson even more silent than he’d been. Does he still want to know why, or is he just dropping it? 

As if reading his mind, Em shrugs, “You can tell me why when you’re ready. Tonight, I just want to cuddle your ass.” He holds out his hand to Colson and laces their fingers together tightly when he grabs on. Em tugs him gently out of the bathroom and down the hall back to his room. Colson leaves the lighter and the blade on the counter. 

When they’re back in bed, Em holds him differently than he has before, His arm feels weighted, it presses Colson gently down into the bed, unable to move from the hold. Em holds him from behind protectively and breathes into Colson’s neck. It’s so close it’s almost claustrophobic, but Colson wouldn’t pull away from it even if he could. The urge to hurt himself is immediately replaced by the need to burrow in closer to Em’s grounding touch. 

He falls asleep easily, letting the last of his shame and fear at Em’s reaction leave his body without a fight. 

In the morning, he goes to clean his stuff up in the bathroom, or to throw it away, but not to use it. When he gets there, the bag, the razor, and the lighter are nowhere to be found. Instead of being anxious at the loss, he feels a bit calmed by it. 

This isn’t the end. He won’t be able to stop hurting himself just because Em got rid of a few of his blades and one of his many designated lighters, but it is a start. 

Em knows now, he’s looking out for it. And if the way he always acts toward him, from the making sure Colson is eating to the cuddle last night is any indication, he’ll be there when Colson needs it. He’ll take care of him. 

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 14

cruel summer masterlist

AN: I wrote this chapter in the wrong POV first and then decided I had to rewrite it. I’m not in love with it, but it’s a smidge longer than a usual chapter. Sorry if it meanders. I tried to get to a point lol. We’re getting to a POINT, and Aelin and Rowan are just fighting me on getting there every step of the way. Sigh. Anywayyy, hope you enjoy this fluffy nonsense chapter.

Rowan drives up the Ashryver’s driveway and takes a deep breath. It’s been three full days since Rowan dropped the “E” word on Aelin and three whole days since they’ve seen each other alone. He’s relieved he didn’t scare her off with his exclusivity question, but he’s on edge for their day together.

Today, Aelin is taking Rowan to Ashryver Playland as her guest. Just the two of them, and Rowan can’t help but feel nervous. They’ll be together. Out in public. Just the two of them. Like a real date. Neither of them have acknowledged that it’s a date, but… that’s what it is.

He grabs his baseball hat and covers his hair before walking up the front steps and ringing the doorbell. Rhoe answers the door with a friendly smile and welcomes him in.

As they cross the foyer and make their way into the kitchen, Rowan can’t help but hear Aedion’s low voice ask – “Sam, who’s Sam?”

Rowan’s heart picks up pace as Evalin gushes in response. “Oh, Aelin. Have you been seeing Sam? “He’s so perfect for you,” she continues. “I was hoping there might be a spark there.”

“No, um—” Aelin interjects, but her Evalin bowls her over, continuing her praise for the boy next door. Rowan’s stomach sinks.

“He’s just so responsible and well-spoken, and so good looking,” Evalin rambles. “And what a story for your children! That you used to know each other in your youth and then reconnected twenty years later? And I think he’s going to be such a good influence on you. With him heading his father’s company, you could take the time to really decide what you want to do with your future. If you want to get involved with philanthropy, or write, or be a stay at home mother, or—”

Rhoe coughs as he leads Rowan into the kitchen, interrupting his rambling wife. “Look who I found outside.”

“Rowan!” Evalin throws him a wide smile. “What a lovely surprise. Aelin, you didn’t tell us Rowan was coming to the park with us today.”

Rowan ducks his head and sticks his hands into his shorts pockets, feeling uncomfortable. He looks around the kitchen. It’s a full house today. Lysandra and Aedion sit at the kitchen table, finishing their breakfast while Gavin and Evie throw a toy back and forth for Fleetfoot.

Aelin finishes her last sip of coffee and stands from the table. She looks effortlessly beautiful, per usual, Rowan can’t help but notice. Her loose tank top and cut offs display her tanned skin prominently, and her golden hair is up in its signature high ponytail.  

“That’s because he’s not,” Aelin tells her mom. “I mean. We’re not coming with you. Rowan’s never been to the park as a patron before, and I wanted to give him a full Aelin-style day. Not going on all the kid rides. No offense.”

Aedion holds up his hands and nods. “No offense taken. Those rides are the worst.”

Rowan ducks his head bashfully, slightly horrified that Aelin is making him look bad in front of her family, who clearly already wants her together with Sam. “Aelin didn’t tell me you were going as a family. I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your plans…”

Evalin looks like she’s going to insist they join them when Rhoe closes his paper and looks up at Rowan. “Nonsense. You two have fun.”

Evalin looks meaningfully at Aelin. “Is Sam going to be joining you, too, Fireheart?”

“Mom! No,” Aelin groans, frustrated. “Leave it alone.” She throws an apologetic glance at Rowan, but he ignores it. He should have known her mom would be Team Sam.

Aedion breaks the tension, asking his sister if they’ll see them back at the house for fireworks.

We’ll see you back here for fireworks?”

“Fireworks?” Rowan asks.

“Ashryver Playland celebrates the Fourth on July 2nd, for some reason,” Aelin explains.

“Permits,” her mother says.

“Anyway,” Aelin continues. “Today the park sets off the most amazing fireworks over the water, and we happen to have a perfect view from our back patio.”

“Have fun,” Rhoe calls out as Aelin leads Rowan out the back door and onto the beach.

“Sorry about that,” Aelin apologizes once they’re out of sight. Rowan shrugs her off, but he can’t stop hearing Evalin’s excitement at the idea that Aelin could be dating Sam. It’s the last thing his inferiority complex needs. But he’s determined to have a good time today, so he shakes off the negativity and focuses completely on the gorgeous girl beside him. He grins when she slips her hand into his as they walk side-by-side.

At the ticket booth, Elide welcomes the two of them with an over the top smile. “Well, well, well. Rowan, I didn’t expect to see you on your day off. How ever did Aelin convince you of this?”

Rowan shrugs, not really sure what to say, but Aelin rolls her eyes. “Oh my gods, Elide, just tell him you know and be done with it.”

Rowan barks out a short laugh and can feel his cheeks heating as Elide gives him a wink. He thinks that’s a good sign? That Aelin has told another one of her friends, who isn’t Dorian. He hopes. Aelin smiles as she holds her wrist out for a wristband and motions for Rowan to do the same. “Have fun you two,” Elide calls after them as Aelin leads him into the park.

“What first?” Rowan asks, and Aelin drags him to the Firecoaster. Fenrys is taking tickets for the ride, and he grins when he sees Rowan and Aelin at the top of the line.

“Fen, can we sit in the front?” Aelin asks, bouncing on her toes. Fenrys nods and lets a group of people through, holding Aelin and Rowan back so they can be first onto the next car.

Rowan looks down at her and pauses. “Uhhh, we don’t have to do that.”

Aelin snorts. “Are you…scared?”

“I don’t love rollercoasters,” Rowan admits, and Fenrys laughs outright. “I’m too tall, and I feel like I’m going to topple out of the seat,” he says, rushed.

Aelin laughs and grabs his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

“You better,” Rowan grumbles. “If I fall out, I’m taking you with me.”

Fenrys pouts. “You know, Aelin, I’m hurt. You’ve never taken me to the park.” Aelin ruffles his hair and pats his cheek.

“Maybe next year, champ.” She laughs. “You’re still not old enough to ride all the rides,” she teases him.

Fenrys sticks out his tongue. “Don’t know why you hang out with this one,” Fenrys tells Rowan. “She’s cruel.”

The next car comes to a stop in front of them, and Fenrys lets them on. Aelin eagerly leads Rowan to the front and slips in. Rowan awkwardly gets in after her, forcing himself into the cramped seat, his knees squishing against the front. His shorts ride up uncomfortably, and he tries to adjust them quickly.

“How are you comfortable?” he asks, looking at Aelin, who is beaming with excitement. ”I have a perma-wedgie just from trying to sit.”

“It helps that I’m not wearing panties,” Aelin says coolly, and Rowan bumps his knee hard against the top of the car.

“What?!”

As Rowan hisses in pain, Aelin breaks out into laughter, her cheeks flushing. She leans over and grabs his arm. “I’m kidding, but oh my gods, your face.”

Her eyes darken as she looks at him, and desire pools in Rowan’s stomach. She forces herself to look away, which is good because Rowan was tempted to say fuck it all and kiss her in broad daylight. Instead, he rests his hand on her knee and leans toward her.

“Fenrys was right. Cruel,” he says, his eyes boring holes into the side of her head.

Rowan barely has time to see her smiling reaction as the ride takes off. His stomach flips as they hit their first dip. He wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t love rollercoasters. Instead of panicking, he looks at Aelin, whose eyes are wide with glee as they round every turn and hit every dip. Her hair flies behind her, and her arms are up in the air. Rowan holds the bar in front of him tightly, and breathes deeply. When the ride finally stops, Aelin’s smile makes the ride worth it.

She grabs his hand and drags him to the next ride. He’d ride the rollercoaster a thousand times if it meant her hand in his in public again. They make a large circle, doing all of the “big” rides first – the log flume, the whip, the starship 2000. They pretend to race each other on the Derby Carousel, and it doesn’t take long for Rowan to see the appeal of coming to the park. Even his grouchy self has to admit the rides are fun. Though it’s mostly because he’s never seen Aelin this carefree or relaxed or unselfconscious. She’s casually touched him so many times he’s lost count, and each time he’s surprised.

“I’m starving,” Aelin says after they get off the Wyvern Flyers. “Lunch?”

Rowan’s stomach grumbles loudly, as if on cue. They head to the nearest snack bar and by chance end up behind Aedion and Lysandra. Rowan has barely met Aelin’s brother and sister-in-law, but they seem nice enough. He’d planned on buying Aelin lunch, but Aedion insists on buying whatever they want. Rowan tries to fight him on it, but Aedion is having none of it. The only payment he asks is for Aelin and Rowan to have lunch with them.

After they get their burgers and fries and sodas, the four of them make their way to the eating tent, out of the sun.

“So, what have you been up to this summer, Ae?” Aedion asks. “We’ve barely seen you.”

“Or should we ask who you’ve been up to?” Lysandra asks, a wicked grin on her face. She glances at Rowan, and Rowan conveniently takes a large bite of his burger.

Aedion lights up. “Oh, yeah. Tell us about this Sam character that mom was going on about.”

Rowan focuses intently on chewing and not reacting in the slightest. Aelin rolls her eyes at her brother. “Sam is our neighbor. If anything he’s a friend. Mom is just being mom.”

“Yeah, but friendship can evolve,” Aedion says. “Look at me and Lys.”

Lysandra sticks her middle finger up at her husband. “Leave me out of this. Don’t let anyone pressure you, Aelin.” She gives Aelin a meaningful look. “Date whoever you want.”

“Fuck that,” Aedion says with a laugh. “I’ll pressure you all I want. It’s my gods-given right as your older sibling. I’ll make the final call after meeting him for real. We’re all supposed to go to his family’s party this week.” Aedion looks to Rowan, finally. “What do you think of him, Rowan?”

“Sam?” Rowan asks, swallowing the rest of his bite. Aedion nods. Everyone looks at him expectantly. “He’s fine?”

Lysandra cackles loudly. “So he’s a jerk.”

“I said no such thing,” Rowan responds too fast, and Lysandra laughs again. Aelin joins in and pats his knee under the table.

Lysandra commandeers the conversation away from the boy nex tdoor, sensing Rowan’s discomfort. She notices his shirt and asks him about his time in the Army, which he gives a short summary of. He finds that talking about himself is easier in front of Lysandra. He doesn’t feel like he’s being judged on his low-income job, the way the rest of the Ashryver clan makes him feel. He asks Lysandra what she does, and she excitedly pulls out her phone to show Rowan her Instagram. Apparently she’s a Mommy Blogger with a lifestyle brand. He had no idea those people really existed. But the photos are beautiful. Their family looks perfect in each shot.

“Where’s the rest of our family, by the way?” Aelin finally asks as Rowan scrolls through their pictures.

“Mom and Dad are babysitting until fireworks,” Aedion explains, and Aelin’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised.

“How’d you manage that one?”

Aedion laughs. “We promised we’d have a sleepover at the house tonight in thanks.”

As they all throw their trash away, Aedion asks if he and Lysandra can join Rowan and Aelin on the rest of their rides for the afternoon. Lysandra tries to tell him that they shouldn’t impose on Aelin’s plans, but it’s clear from the glances between the siblings that they want to spend time with each other, and ultimately it’s Rowan who insists they join.

“Are you sure?” Aelin asks, and Rowan nods. It’s not exactly what he’d planned for their day, but he doesn’t want to be the one responsible for pulling Aelin away from her family. He doesn’t need to give them any other reasons to dislike him. He’s clearly already losing the popular race to Sam.

The rest of the day passes quickly. Rowan is happy to finally get to watch Aelin and her brother interact. They seem to love each other a lot, despite their large age gap. Rowan works overtime to make sure he isn’t touching Aelin in their presence, but she somehow can’t help herself. Each brush of her hand sends him into an aroused frenzy, and by the time they reach their final ride, Rowan feels like he’s going to burst with tension.

They approach the ferris wheel just as the sun is going down. Lysandra pulls her husband into a gondola and closes the door behind them. Aedion looks confused. Four can fit to a gondola.

“I want to make out with my husband, so you kids are going to have to take the next one,” Lysandra says with a wink. Aedion laughs and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“See you on the ground,” he says with a wave and leans in to kiss his wife. Rowan secretly sends a prayer of thanks to Lysandra for inadvertently giving him exactly what he wants.

Aelin and Rowan slip into the next gondola, and Aelin immediately curls up into Rowan’s side. He exhales with relief as he wraps his arm around her shoulders. As the gondola starts to rise, Aelin puts her chin on his chest.

“Thank you for today,” Aelin says sweetly, and he looks down at her big blue eyes.

“I should be thanking you,” he says. “I did absolutely nothing but use your family’s pass to get into the park.”

“That’s not all you did, and you know it.” Aelin moves her nose against his jaw, her lips ever so close to his neck, but not quite touching. “I know you hadn’t planned on hanging out with my brother. But it meant a lot to me.” She pauses. “I didn’t realize how much I missed him. We usually spend all summer together.”

“He’s pretty cool,” Rowan says. “And I don’t want to take over your summer,” he says, even though it’s a complete lie. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off whenever so you can see your family.”

Aelin bites her lip and adjusts herself to face Rowan more fully. He looks at her face in the blinking light of the amusement park, shaded in pinks and blues and greens. Gods she’s beautiful.

“I don’t want to talk about my family anymore,” Aelin says and leans in to capture Rowan’s lips with hers. It takes him by surprise, but he responds quickly, his mouth moving against hers slowly. He’s been starved for her touch all day, and he’s not going to let the opportunity pass him by. He’s grateful when their gondola comes to a stop, pausing at the top of the wheel. His fingers thread through her hair, and he can feel her smile against his mouth, kissing him with renewed fervor.

They break apart as the wheel continues going and makes its descent. Aelin quickly redoes her ponytail before her brother can see what a mess it’s become with Rowan’s hands in it. She can’t do anything about her swollen lips though, or her flushed cheeks. Rowan hopes Aedion and Lysandra aren’t paying that close attention to them, since they were doing their own canoodling.

By the time they arrive back at the Ashryver’s, the sun has completely gone down and the fireworks are about to start. Evie and Gavin are already showered and in their pajamas as they set up their little chairs on the edge of the patio to watch the show. Gavin waves excitedly at Rowan, and Rowan says hi to the little boy as Aelin disappears inside the house. She comes out with a hoodie and a towel and tells her family that she and Rowan are going to watch from the beach.

The beach is empty when they make their way down to the now-cold sand. Aelin spreads out the blanket and motions for Rowan to sit. He kicks off his shoes and sits next to her. Annoyed, Aelin fixes his legs, so he’s sprawled out enough for her to lean against him. He smiles as she leans into his chest, and he widens his legs so she can fit between them comfortably. They manage to watch about five minutes of the fireworks before Aelin turns around fully and kisses Rowan. He doesn’t even mind that he’s missing the fireworks, since Aelin’s lips are on his, and her arms are wrapped around his neck, and her thighs straddle his.

At the end of the show, Aelin pouts. “I’m sorry you can’t spend the night tonight, but all our rooms are occupied with Aedion and the kids here.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan shrugs, but he’s not anxious to let her go, either.  

“You could drive your truck to the street and then come back and hang out for a little bit longer?” she suggests, and though Rowan feels guilty at the suggestion, he doesn’t fight her on it.

They make their way back to the patio, and Rowan wishes the Ashryvers a good night before following Aelin’s instructions and driving his truck down to the street and returning in the darkness to the back of the house.

He makes his way through the garden gate and to the rose lattice that winds its way up to Aelin’s room. He awkwardly pulls himself up, fearful for his life as his feet find their footholds in the wooden trellis.  But sure enough, he’s able to make his way onto her balcony.

He pants loudly as Aelin lets him into her room with a soft giggle, and his eyes roam her half-naked body, which is already clad in a barely there nightgown.

Rowan groans. “Cruel. I can’t have sex with you while your family is across the hall,” he says with the utmost regret.

“You had no problem with my parents being upstairs before,” Aelin pouts. “And I haven’t been with you in so many days…” She grips his shirt and pulls him closer. He can’t think clearly with her this close. He tries to remember all the reasons he was supposed not to have sex with her tonight, but he can’t.

He hasn’t been inside Aelin since the last time he slept over at her house, which was almost a full week ago. He wants her, badly. It takes little convincing to get Rowan into her bed. They take their time, exploring each other with their hands and tongues, savoring each inch and making up for lost time. As he enters her, Aelin’s mouth widens into a silent scream, and they move together silently, making sure not to make a single sound, even as they fall of the precipice of pleasure.

Sweaty and exhausted, Rowan knows he needs to drive home before he falls asleep under her covers. He looks at the time. Nearly 2 am. And he has work tomorrow. He sadly extracts himself from her grasp and kisses her one last time.

“Don’t go,” she says.

“I have to,” he replies sadly. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Satisfied, Aelin’s eyes finally close, and she mumbles out a goodnight, and Rowan stares at her for a second. He’s falling so hard. He’s never felt like this before. Like he doesn’t want to let her out of his sight. With a sad sigh, he turns to the balcony and makes his way into the night and back down the trellis to the garden. He hits the ground with a loud thud and looks around, praying no one heard him.

He smells the cigarette smoke just before he sees Lysandra’s green eyes widen in shock. She sits on the bench below Aelin’s balcony, smoking, in a thin robe, barely lit under the twinkle lights of the rose garden. Rowan freezes and runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s sure looks a mess.

“It’s… not what it looks like?” he says, and Lysandra cracks a wide smile at him and exhales her cigarette smoke.

“Sure, Romeo,” she quips. And Rowan’s stomach turns into a barrel of nerves as Lysandra looks him up and down. He wonders what she sees. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” she finally says, pointing to her cigarette.

“Deal,” Rowan says. As he drives home, he wonders how the hell he’s going to explain this one to Aelin. She was so adamant on not letting her family know. He really hopes Lysandra can keep a secret. Fuck.

~*~*~*~*~

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[deniigi]

@pomegranate-belle and @puffins-studio have kindly convinced me to share with you all this little bit.

It’s of Electric Sheep but if Android Matt had a Mike who’s been looking for him since they were separated as youths (right before Matt started to become an android)

Title: Seventeen years

Summary: bounty hunter Mike has been taking jobs in nyc, searching for his lost twin. A chance encounter with a blonde woman who steals his heart helps him find him.

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

Seventeen years, ten months, 18 days.

Mike had lived out of the city longer than in it. Rochester was as close as he’d gotten in foster care, but work had dragged him through occasionally, and frankly he was grateful for it.

He’d told himself seventeen years ago that he’d get back.

So here he was, reflecting on life outside the cell of a guy screaming bloody murder.

Dude was a bot-trafficker.

The shit made some serious dough, Mike had seen it himself. But you know what else made some serious dough? Bounty hunting. I.e. Catching the people who got pissed off about other people makin’ some serious dough.

These days, they were all bot-traffickers. Mike could barely remember a time when he was chasing jewel thieves and counterfeiters down alleys anymore. It was all bot-this and bot-that—which, to be fair, was kind of the same thing as a jewel thief.

Property was where the real money was at. And bots? Hoo boy, the best kind could cost a penthouse.

Mike thought it was good for them that they had no idea how much they were worth. He found it kinda sweet if he was honest. This screamin’ bot dude’s collection of androids were all tucked up against each other in the other room, performing ‘maintenance’ on each other like a pile of cats. They were community-minded, bless ‘em. It made Mike smile a little bit.

Of course, so did the paycheck.

Yeah, the paycheck helped, too.

 --

 He got a job for the city. He took it without asking too many questions.

It didn’t matter how much city jobs paid, Mike always went ready for a double-shift there.

The last time he’d seen Matt had been when their social workers had untangled their hands at St. Agnes. Both of them had been wailing like toddlers, like they had been in front of Dad’s casket.

Up until that point, everyone had assured them that they’d be kept together—that no one was going to try to separate them. They were twins. People would understand that you couldn’t just take the one and leave the other. They had an unbreakable and psychic bond, clearly.

But then one day the social worker hadn’t answered Matt’s question when he’d asked about it again, seeking reassurance.

Mike’s stomach had dropped then. And sure enough, the next thing they knew, people were throwing around words like ‘specialty care’ and ‘high-risk’ and ‘better in the long-run.’

Mike had gone to a foster home screaming and fighting in the back of a sedan. Matty stayed behind, allegedly to be placed in some kind of group home with more ‘supportive’ care.

That was seventeen years ago--almost eighteen years ago.

Mike only knew what Matt looked like these days because he shaved every morning in the bathroom mirror. But, he told himself, not for much longer.

He hadn’t become a bounty hunter for the looks. He’d done it for the money and the job experience. Could he track a criminal? Hell yeah. He’d been one. He knew how they thought. More importantly: could he track a brother?

He could, actually. He was a Murdock; he knew how they thought.

 --

 The job in the city was whatever. Took half an hour and a big smile to corner the gal like a rat. She went to the highest bidder; Mike went back out on the prowl.

Chances were that Matt would be drawn to Hell’s Kitchen. And chances were that he would be searching for Mike as Mike was for him. He was an idealist like that. Like Mike.

Awwww. Old habits die hard.

 --

 Hell’s Kitchen had changed over the years, but it still felt like home when Mike put a foot in the boundaries. He knew these stoops and all these torn posters. He knew that skyline and that raggedy flag pole.

The names on the businesses changed—some got new lights, some got new windows, but all in all, the feel was still there.

 --

 He set out to find Matt in the old, old haunts. Stopped by the church. The old kids’ home. They still hadn’t seen him, no, Mike. Sorry, my son.

He took a waltz down memory lane by the docks.

He found the greasiest looking coffee shop he could and sat at a sticky table, people-watching through the huge half-wall windows for about an hour.

Nothin’ yet.

His coffee was cold when he left.

  --

He ran into a girl at a bar that night under green and red neon lights. They danced close. She told him he reminded her of someone she knew, and Mike thought that that was just a lovely coincidence, sugar, wasn’t it?

He invited her to his hotel room. She accepted.

He woke up to waves of amber grain strewn across this pillow, sticking to his lips, and the smell of something powdery and floral in the endless line of this lady’s neck.

God, she was like a swan. Mike ought to buy her breakfast.

He did because he was a gentleman. He left to go grab a sandwich from the bodega outside but came back to find the bed and the room empty. There was a little note on the pad next to the bed that said ‘thanks, handsome’ with a smile face next to it and a number.

He eased himself down on to the bed and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth to grin around.

  --

Her name was Karen.

It wasn’t their last night. Mike saw her when she was in the city and they had a well-worn routine after a few months.

Every time, a new bar, a new club, a new drink. But the same dance and then the same chase and collapse.

She told him nothing about herself, and he loved that about her. She passed fingers through his hair. She trailed them across his jaw, bristly stubble or no.

And then the next morning, she was gone, and Mike was sighin’ like a blue bird in spring.

 --

 Valentine’s Day found Mike in the city. He didn’t delude himself with thinking that Karen was available—he wasn’t that full of it.

But he did think that even a lady as lovely and possibly taken as Karen deserved a bouquet of flowers from a ‘friend.’ So he took a meander down to a wholesaler and chatted up one of the makers until a collection of spring tulips graced by baby’s breath found their way into his hands.

Karen, he suspected, worked somewhere in an office. Her ever-present, practical pencil skirt said so, and the way that she frequented Josie’s told him that she lived in the area around 9th and 52nd.

It wasn’t hard to snoop. It wasn’t hard to trawl through the local business websites in that area, peeking at staff pages until low and behold, the golden grail herself appeared smiling on try number 7.

He smiled back at her photo and went back to get the name of the place and the address only to pause in his tracks.

Nelson & Murdock.

Karen worked at a law firm called Nelson & Murdock.

Huh.

Well. Good for that Murdock. Mike hoped he was out when he brought these flowers in.

 --

 The firm was dinky and crammed up two flights of stairs across from an orthodontist’s office. Mike pitied Karen for having to spend her days watching droves of traumatized middle schoolers leave that place with wires crammed in their faces. The flowers even looked like they were wilting in the hallway.

Mike gave them a pep talk on his way to the door.

He knocked but no one answered, so he turned the knob and a handful of people where sat looking nervous in the waiting area. The front desk was empty. Abandoned.

Oh, Karen.

Ever at work like you are at play.

Mike made his way over the desk and caught sight of a familiar fluffy little ball on a keychain at the edge of the desk.

It was adorable.

He found a scrap of paper by the phone, reached over and snagged it and a pen to leave a little love note when he felt a tug at his elbow.

He forced down the irritation and turned back with a smile. An older lady with huge bifocals squinted at him.

“Mr. Murdock,” she said. “I’ve got to go move my car. Don’t you give up my place, you hear?”

Mike forced himself to hold his smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, madam.”

Murdock must have looked smooth as hell for Mike to have been mistaken for him.

The lady squinted left, right, and center, then scoffed and pinched his arm.

“Cheeky boy,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She left.

Mike’s brain short-circuited for another few seconds before declaring that whole situation unresolvable, bizarre, and emphatically not his problem. Sorry Nana. Go to the back of the line like everyone else.

He went back to writing his card.

“Matt?”

He didn’t mean to look up. It was a reflex, man. It came with the twin-territory, and this time it brought a moment of panic as Karen’s brow dropped stormily and her fists found her hips.

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been calling you all morning?” she demanded.

Mike’s palms started sweating.

Did Karen? Not? Recognize him?

Had he misread this whole love affair? Or maybe it was the daylight that was confusing her?

It had to be the daylight, right?

“Matt,” Karen said, irate as could be in that pretty blue and white top. “Don’t just stand there. Say something.”

Ahahahahahaha.

Too close. Too much.

“MATT.”

Out we go, back to the hovel from which we came.

  ---

He breathed out hard in the street below and turned back to look up at the window of Nelson & Murdock. It was flung open and he didn’t give Karen the opportunity to get her nose out of it. He hurried off into the crowd, ducking and squirming until he was sure that he was good and gone from sight.

Then he found an alley to clutch at his heart in.

It had been years since someone had called him Matt. Sometimes he took the name on as a false one, when working for especially shitty shit-heads. But Karen??

Mike was positive he’d introduced himself as Mike. ‘Michael’ but more like Costello than Abbott, he’d said. Karen had laughed.

What the fuck, man? What the fuck?

He looked at the flowers in his hand.

A waste.

Hhhng. Alright, well. There was for sure to be someone needing cheering up at a bar somewhere. Might as well spare them for the Singles Awareness Gigs sure to be happening soon.

  ---

He ended up at Josie’s because he always ended up at Josie’s, but this time with barely anyone in the place at 3pm on Valentine’s Day, she actually noticed him and gave him an eyebrow. He chose to ignore it in order to wallow in self-pity and raised his glass to his lips.

It didn’t make it.

He stared in stunned silence at the hand suddenly covering his glass.

“I don’t think that’s a wise idea, pal,” Josie said.

Mike gaped at her in shock.

“I? Paid for this?” he said.

There was a long moment of awkward silence.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Josie said. “My bad. I thought you were someone else.”

Someone else?

Someone—

WAIT.

“Someone else? Does someone who looks like me come here?” Mike blurted out with zero grace before he could stop himself. “Does he—do you know his name? Is he—does he—”

Josie frowned hard at him.

“You’re not Matt,” she said after a long moment. “I always thought you were Matt.”

Matt!!

Matty!! MATT. You little shit. You perfect, darling, little shit. Out here, comin’ to Josie’s like a chump—possible alcoholic Matt!

Okay, wait, roll that one back—one problem at a time.

“He’s my brother. I’ve been looking for him for eighteen years, we were separated in foster care—do you know where he lives?” Mike asked with no filter to be seen for miles.

Was it professional of him?

No.

But were hugs at airports ever professional? Exactly. Get off his case.

He beamed wide at Josie, but her face did not reciprocate the gesture. Actually, it seemed to be doing the opposite and that made this little squirming feeling start up in Mike’s gut.

“Christ,” Josie said. “I’m so sorry, man.”

Wh-what?

“You’re gonna need a double.”

What did that mean?

“Take this.”

No. No, what did that mean?

“Take the shot, kid. Trust me. You’re gonna need it.”

  ---

No.

Just.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Josie rubbed her fingernails against her cheek and sighed.

“His owner brings him along,” she said. “Lets him work at their law firm with him—he’s made the papers, sure, but you know. It’s all kind of colored by the fact that he can’t really do shit without permission.”

Mike rolled the tumbler in his hand around.

Nelson, eh? So called ‘owner’ of the android called Matthew Michael Murdock.

Ahahahaha.

Get ready to die, motherfucker.

“But he tries to drink—Matt does,” Mike felt himself say.

Josie didn’t want to look at him.

“Sometimes, it’s like he forgets he’s a droid,” she said. “Usually, he’s got someone with him to keep him out of trouble.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Josie said. “It’s a load of bull.”

FUCK.

He set the tumbler down.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“It’s on the house,” Josie said. “Best of luck.”

Yeah.

Thanks.

  ---

Matty was—

Matty was—

Mike made it back to his hotel room before sinking to his knees by the bed. God had never heeded his prayers before, but things were different now.

Matty couldn’t pray for the both of them anymore. He was—He was--

Mike had to—

God, please.

Please. Give him back. What once was lost had to be found.

What once was lost, God.

Mike had lost him.

He’d lost him forever.

Give him back.

 ---

 He typed Matt’s name into the search engine on his phone and made it through one whole article before he was kneeling before a much harder, much more porcelain altar.

He tried again in the bathroom this time, sat on the floor with his back against the tub.

The bot that someone had made out of Matty looked so sweet. Like Mike, but softer in the cheeks. Younger. Forever 22 or something close to it.

He was still blind, despite all his other modifications and he was a little famous in the field of robotics. Not that the bot appeared to care. The articles claimed that the bot had recovered and retained memories prior to what they kept calling his ‘transition.’

What they meant was when he’d been transformed into a human weapon. An inhuman weapon.

Matty, I’m so sorry.

 ---

 There was only so much self-pity a man could wallow in before his ass started to fall asleep. But more than that, Mike was a Murdock. The tingling in his limbs was lost to the ever-increasing roar of fire in his ears.

That bastard. That bastard lawyer.

Taking Matt after everything he’d been through and turning him into some prop to be used as a showpiece in a grand legal theatre.

Fuck no. Fuck that.

Mike wasn’t fucking this up twice.

 ---

 Nelson & Murdock was closed by the time Mike once again found himself outside its doors. He stared at the sign’s heavy black letters and gave in to the devil raging, hot, underneath the skin of his chest.

He left the shattered doorglass on the ground as he made his way to the opposite stairwell.

 ---

 Karen.

  ---

She lived nearby 9th and 52nd. She was probably going home to her handsome hubby, who’d shower her in chocolate and wine and flowers. But on the way, she’d make a stop. She was a working gal. She wouldn’t have had time to pick up a gift in return before her shift started.

Mike found her at Walgreens, talking on the phone to someone while she petted every teddy bear on the rack in front of her.

He didn’t feel sorry.

She didn’t scream when his hand found her face. He didn’t give her the chance.

  ---

He ditched the hat in the back storeroom of Walgreens and took Karen right through to the loading dock. She thrashed hard.

Mike could barely feel the movement. He was on the lookout for eyes.

An elbow found his ribs and a foot his toes before he got them far enough from view that he could let her go to readjust his grip, and when he did, he got her against a wall, panting.

This lady was tough. But in a flash, she mouth dropped open and her wrists went limp in his grip.

“Mike?” she asked after a second. “Is that you? What are you doing here? Why are you—”

“Where. Is. My brother?” Mike cut her off.

Karen recoiled until her head hit the bricks behind her.

“Your—”

“My brother Matthew,” Mike snapped.

The rush of traffic settled into the silence.

“Oh my god,” Karen whispered. “He’s your brother?”

“Yes. He is, as a matter of fact, and whatever you think you’re doing to him, I will do to you and that fucking lawyer ten times worse,” Mike said. “So you’re going to help me or I’m going to—”

“I knew I knew you.”

He felt himself go stiff.

“Matt talks like you,” Karen said softly. “Just like you.”

Wh—he did?

Karen’s fingers brushed the tops of Mike’s hands. They were cold.

“Mike,” she whispered, sounding for all the world like she was on the verge of tears, “He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Wh—she’d—she’d take him to Matt?

“Of course,” Karen said. “He’s one of my best friends.”

They were friends? How were they friends? Was this a sick joke?

“No. It’s not. I met him years ago it’s just—I didn’t realize you were—okay, there’s just one problem,” Karen said.

 ---

 Uh?

“Sensory input! Greater than! Processing—PROCESSING—processing—”

“Matty,” Franklin Nelson said with both of his hands out in front of him. “I see that we are very excited.”

“SENSORY INPUT—”

“And I love your enthusiasm, and I know you love your enthusiasm,” Nelson continued. “But if you don’t settle down the tiniest fraction of an inch, you’re going to blow a fuse and—”

“SEN—sen-S-S-SEN—”

Uh?

“This is excited,” Karen explained while Nelson wrestled Matt into sitting for the second time since Mike had arrived at the door.

This was excited?

“He’s normally much more in tune with himself,” Karen said. “But I think you’ve jumpstarted some shit that even his additional processing power isn’t enough for.”

Additional what now?

“It’s a long story,” Karen said over the saddest sound that Mike had ever heard.

They both looked over to where Nelson had successfully gotten Matt back to sitting and was now coaching him through whatever the bot-equivalent of breathing exercises were.

“How long?” Mike asked.

Karen’s blue eyes pitied him.

 ---

 Okay, okay, okay. So. Nelson? Not a threat. Definitely a boon.

Matty?

Hng.

Heavy.

“I’ve literally never seen him this excited,” Nelson said. “And I’ve known him for seven years.”

No shit?

“No shit, we met at Columbia,” Nelson sighed. “I’m sorry about this.”

It was fine. Mike deserved this. Probably.

Jesus, what the fuck had they replaced Matt’s muscle’s with? How was he this warm and this heavy and not human all at the same time.

He’d seemed to have decided that Mike needed a full-body hug and while the first ten seconds had been cry-worthy, the last minute or so was getting a little suffocating.

“Matt, let him go,” Nelson pleaded. “He can’t breathe, bud. He’s gotta breathe, he’s not like you—”

“Subject: Mike. Michael Murdock,” Matt said brightly, scrambling off Mike out of no-fucking-where and getting way too far into Nelson’s face.

“Mike, yeah, you said,” Nelson said.

“Mike. Born October 21—”

“I get it. He’s your twin.”

“—at Metropolitan General Hospital at 11:32pm—”

“Matt,  you’re info-dumping friend, we don’t need this. We believe you. Don’t give me his social. Don’t—”

“—Social Security number 6—”

“MATT. End request. End search term. Exit page.”

Uh?

“He did this with the DA last week when he got too riled up,” Karen said sympathetically. “We have no clue where he finds it or better yet, where he even stores it.”

“—my brother, FOGGY.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ see it, man. It’s before mine very own eyes. Y’all are identical. It’s weird.”

“I missed him.”

“Tell that to him then. Stop touching me, ew. No. Go douse him with your weird fuckin’ eye fluid—atta boy, good job—NO. NO CLIMBING.”

Mike…was not prepared for the care and keeping of Bot-Matt. He had to admit that now. All those plans of snatching Matt out of the hands of these evil, evil people were breaking up into little fragments of puzzle pieces and he’d never felt more like shit because god.

He was supposed to look after his brother, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

“I’m so sorry about this,” Franklin Nelson said with Matt leaning almost completely out of his grip and making that horrible sad noise again. “But I think I’m gonna need to cool him down a bit.”

 ---

 Mike couldn’t stop rubbing at his face.

Matt was sprawled out across Nelson’s bed like he was sleeping in the sunlight. The wires plugged into the back of his neck slipped off the edge of the bed and led all the way to a laptop that was just about sweating with how hard it was working.

From the side, it looked like he was human. Absolutely, unequivocally human.

Younger than Mike now, though. Permanently halted at 24 years old. No wonder Karen hadn’t recognized Mike early on. Matty’s jaw was still slim where Mike’s had hardened square like Dad’s. The only facial hair he had was in his eyebrows and eyelashes—there was no reason to add stubble to a bot. It was just more maintenance. Just another aesthetic modification.

“I’m sorry, Mike.”

Mike turned to Nelson.

He didn’t look or talk like a single one of the bot traffickers than Mike had dragged in from the cold—and he’d done the full range of them, from the cackling madhatters to the cooing, babytalkers to the silent so-called geniuses. Nelson exhibited only exasperation.

The story that Karen told about his and her early encounters with Matt made it seem like Nelson honestly considered Matt to be human, like him. Like all of them.

“You helped him,” Mike said quietly.

“If I’d have known that he had you, then I would have helped him find you sooner,” Nelson said. “But I thought he was on his own. He never mentioned anyone else. I should have asked.”

No. No, that was—That was okay, somehow.

“We got separated a lifetime ago,” Mike said. “People thought that I’d be easier to adopt. And clearly he had other things going on.”

Nelson winced.

“That’s shit,” he said.

“And wrong,” Mike sighed. “I don’t even know what to do now. I can’t take care of him like this. I don’t know the first thing about droid maintenance or computers.”

Nelson considered him.

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have to—take care of him, I mean,” he said. “Matt takes care of himself. He’s actually really good at it when he’s not blowin’ his top about some damn thing. You’ll see when he wakes up. And on top of that, he’s already got a mechanic, so when something goes wrong that he can’t fix, we take him to Parker and he does the heavy lifting there.”

Mike swallowed.

“You guys really have it worked out,” he realized.

Nelson sighed.

“Like I said. I’ve known him for seven years. We’ve lived together ever since.”

Woah. Wait. What now?

Nelson turned exhausted eyes onto him.

“I co-signed for his loft, but he just comes and spends all his time here when he’s not out smashing faces. Claims my bed. Steals all the sun spots. Makes me only shit coffee in return.”

He—Matt—Matt had his own apartment? He could do that?

“Sure? Why not? He owns half the firm, too,” Nelson said. “I mean, they wouldn’t let me put it in his name, technically. So it’s through a wildly complicated, uh—let’s call it a ‘thing’ for simplicity’s sake. But yeah. If anything happens to me, full ownership goes to him. But as far as we’re concerned, it’s half and half. The only thing Matt can’t do is practice law on his own, so we have to double-team pretty much every case.”

Mike needed to sit down.

“Oh, for sure. Just not there. I’d recommend out of range, here. Sit here,” Nelson said.

 ---

 Matt woke up when Karen snuck around the bed to remove the wires from his neck. He scrambled up and fell right over the side of the bed onto Karen’s feet.

She swore. He groaned. Nelson pointedly did not come back into the room.

This time, though, when Matt got back up, Karen pulled him in the direction of Mike and took his wrist. She held out a hand for Mike.

Mike’s heart fluttered.

He gave it to her and Karen put his hand directly in Matt’s palm.

There was silence.

“Mikey,” Matt said after a long moment.

Mike’s eyes started burning.

“You came for me,” Matt said.

Mike couldn’t make his throat work. It took two goes to find his voice.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I sure did.”

“You ain’t singin’, though,” Matt pointed out. “Why aren’t you singin’?”

Because he was cryin’, man. God, give a guy a break.

“Matty, what did they do to you?” he asked.

Matt made a strange sound as he mulled over the question. A kind of whirring noise.

“Made me into a droid, dumbass,” he said.

Mike laughed before he could stop himself.

“Can I have a non-lethal hug?” he asked.

Matt whirred.

“No promises,” he said.

 ----

[comfy-whumpee]

All Give

Ty watches Jim’s hands shake as he winds the compression bandage around Ty’s ribs. Ty holds very still, and tries to keep breathing deeply, and watches those hands tremble like they’re freezing cold.

 It hurts to breathe, right now. He banged himself on the kitchen counter and his ribs are so sensitive these days, pain lurking constantly, ready to launch itself into an attack at the slightest provocation. He’d sat, clutching the wound, trying to keep the air coming in, for the hour and a half before Jim got home from work.

 Jim is always exhausted, and Ty knows he doesn’t relax until he’s checked on him. If Ty is alright, he lets his tension go. If Ty has had a bad day, he doesn’t relax at all. He stays in work mode, businesslike, pushing down his feelings. He does everything he can to look after Ty without a word of complaint, night after night.

 But he has tells. He has his hands, always shaking, as he tends to his husband. This is the third night in a row that Ty has had something, and the guilt is eating at him, watching Jim grow more and more resigned to giving up his relaxation time.

 “How was work?” he offers, as Jim lets him go, ribs wrapped.

 “Fine,” Jim mutters automatically, packing up the first aid kit. It’s a lie. Not conscious, maybe, but not honest either.

 “You hungry?” Ty offers. There’s leftovers in the fridge, prepared last night for Jim’s late shift today. Another job on top of all the others, that Jim takes on for himself.

 “No, I ate on the bus.”

 The bus. Because Jim’s car is in for repairs. One extra weight on the camel’s back, not the last straw, not yet, but creeping ever closer.

 “Jim,” Ty says, and he feels the stammer try and grab the single word and break it. He takes a deep breath. “Jim, can you sit down, please?”

 Jim is halfway to the kitchen to return the first aid kit, the box that is stuffed with bandages and antiseptic and plasters and gauze and everything that it didn’t use to need, before Ty came home fragile and malnourished and so prone to overworking himself. He pauses, and Ty can see the reluctance in his shoulders and the way his body stays turned towards where he wanted to go. It was going to be his escape from this moment and a chance to breathe, compose himself, and layer over the exhaustion and frustration again so he can pretend Ty can’t see it.

 Most days, Ty pretends with him. But most days he doesn’t have the time and energy and – clear-headedness, perhaps – to tackle it. He lets Jim go take care of himself, because he needs to do the same.

 Not today. It’s the third day of this, and Jim is trying to avoid him.

“Sit down, please,” Ty requests, unable to keep the polite tone out of his voice. He’s halfway between his old therapist attitude and the nervous slave afraid to give orders.

 “What’s wrong?” Jim says, finally sitting down on the sofa with a sigh of surrender.

 What’s wrong, he asks, because when was the last time something wasn’t?

 “I’m worried about you,” Ty tells him.

 “Me?”

 He nods.

 Jim folds his hands, squeezing the shake out of them. “I’m fine, Ty, don’t worry about me. I’m just tired.”

 “Tired of what?”

 Jim doesn’t expect the question. “Work,” he says, blinking. “The usual.”

 “Lots of things are the usual. I’m – this,” Ty gestures to his ribs, “is the usual. Are you tired of that?”

 “No, no, I’m fine,” Jim repeats, and when he pauses, he meets Ty’s eyes. He sags a little, recognising he needs to give more. “It’s a lot, sure, but – it’s a lot for you. I just have to patch you up and stuff. Don’t worry about me.”

 “Why shouldn’t I worry about you?”

 Jim frowns. “Because you have to worry about yourself?”

 “I can do both.”

 “Really?”

 Ty considers that. His instinct says there’s no reason why not. Worrying about himself takes most of his energy, yes, but when he has it to spare, he should be able to give some attention to his husband. Most days he has that, and it’s not enough to really get through Jim’s shell and use it... But he thinks he’s been storing it up. He knows they need this conversation.

 So he doesn’t think Jim is right...but then, why does Jim say it? Jim knows how much energy you can give to others, he gives it to Ty every day, and it’s amazing, and Ty loves him so, so much for being willing to stick with him and not despair...

 Jim doesn’t think people can worry about others and themselves.

 Jim worries about others before himself. It’s been a constant worry of Ty’s ever since they got together. Jim is the kind of person who would make sure Ty had his life vest on before putting on his own, and if Ty asked him why, he’d get one of two answers. Things Jim has told him, in conversations like these. Things that Ty used to be able to tease apart and rearrange with him, before.

 You’re more important, he’d say. The philosophical argument had worked on that one. No one person is more important than others. Everyone is equal in that. You deserve as much care and attention as I do, and you deserve it from yourself.

 What if you can’t do it yourself? The other reason. Easier, in some ways, to counter. You don’t know that I can’t. You have to give me the chance to try, and while you do, look after yourself. When you’ve done that, if I’m still struggling, you can look after me.

 Harder to reason with now that Ty can’t do so many things.

 Jim has started to relax, thinking he’s deflected successfully. Ty rolls the words carefully in his mouth before saying them. “I can do both,” he reaffirms gently, “if you do both with me. When you need looking after, tell me.”

 Jim doesn’t shake his head, but the look on his face is as good as a rejection. “I can’t ask you to help me.”

 “Of course you can,” Ty returns. “I might not say yes, I might not be able to. But you can still ask. Why wouldn’t you?”

 “Because it’ll stress you out!” Jim winces as he hears his own voice rising. “Sorry,” he adds, lowering it again. “Sorry, I just – I don’t want to burden you with it, Ty.”

 He didn’t seem to realise how painful that was to hear. Ty scrunched his blanket in his hands, feeling his heart sting. “Am I a burden to you?” he asks.

 “No. No! Never.”

 “Then why would you be one to me?”

 “Because it’s different! You have so much stuff, you need the help, you – you need to put yourself first, so you can get through stuff. I’m just – I’m just being selfish, it’s your issues that we’re dealing with.”

 “In sickness and in health,” Ty says.

 “That’s different, Ty, that’s – you get someone through sickness and it’s over and they’re better. You might not ever – you don’t need to ever get better, I’ll look after you every day, so just – let me do this.”

 Ty breathes, and it hurts. It hurts his ribs and it hurts his chest, and his throat feels tight. It’s horrible, hearing how Jim feels about him. That he might not recover. That he might need looking after, every day, forever.

 That’s not what Jim means...but it’s how it feels. And he’d say that, normally, he thinks – but today it would just start another cycle of guilt.

 “Even if, if that were true,” he says, a compromise to his feelings, “you wouldn’t have to look after me. I kn-know it’s hard, I fin-nd it hard too.” He swallows again, willing the stammer to leave his words alone. “But we don’t have to, we can-n just, just leave it. Leave m-me. I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

 “I can’t just switch off from you, I can’t just leave you—”

 How many times, Ty wondered, would Jim describe his feelings with that minimising just?

 “...and if I did, then, it’d just be – more work the next day.”

 “Or I’d be okay,” Ty counters, as gently as he can with his voice shaking. “I’d m-manage, and be better when you wake up.”

 “But if you’re in pain—”

 “So are you,” Ty interrupted. “I know you’re tired, Jim, and you’re stiff and aching, just like me and my ribs. I can – I can do pain, I’ve survived a lot of pain. A few extra minutes of it while you eat or change clothes or just rest, that’s fine okay?”

 “It shouldn’t be fine.”

 “No, it shouldn’t, but – we can’t function on ideals.”

 Jim is about to respond when the words really hit. When his brain catches up to what Ty said, his mouth closes, and he really thinks, this time. He stops and thinks, the way he has barely done.

 Ty’s heart is racing and he hates the tension but he knows what Jim is thinking. Jim’s head is full of should – he should be better, he should be able to do this, he should be able to look after Ty without feeling exhausted and resentful and sad. He should be perfect. He should be everything.

 He shouldn’t have his own needs.

 “I...want you to be okay,” he admits slowly.

 Ty tries to smile for him. “I will be. Just...not all the time. Even before, I wasn’t okay all the time, remember?”

 Jim nods. They had their days. Bad days at work, or family drama, or the time his bibi broke her hip. Ty needed help then, and he needs it now, for very different reasons and in different ways, but...

 “Okay,” Jim accepts eventually. “And the same goes for me, I’m guessing?”

 Ty smiles. He wishes he could hug Jim, right now. “Yeah. You don’t have to be okay all the time, for my sake. You’re being all give, and – I want to give, sometimes, too.”

 “I can’t make you—”

 “You’re not,” Ty interrupts, firmly as he can. He needs to go and calm down, after this, his ribs hurt, but he can’t let that slide. “You don’t make me do anything, love. I do it because I want to, just like you want to.”

 Jim sits for a moment, looking at his lap. Then, in a halting voice, he admits, “I...don’t always want to.”

 “Then don’t.”

 “But then you—”

 “Will be fine. Not straight away, not easily, not without struggling, but that’s life, Jim, and you can’t protect me from everything. You shouldn’t try to. Let yourself fail, sometimes. Let yourself rest.”

 Jim’s hand shakes as he wipes his eyes.

 “Please, Jim.”

 “O-Okay. Yeah, I – I get it, that’s, okay. You’re right, as – as always. I love y-you.”

 The tearful smile Jim gives does wonders for Ty’s ribs. He smiles in relief. “I love you too. Now go to bed.”

[catflowerqueen]

Logistics of a “Speed Run”

So, this is probably going to end up on my what if…? List eventually, so I think I’ll just do some vague outlining here.

Starting Premise: The original expedition members are the only ones who go on the expedition to fogbound Lake.

1st Time Gear Located: Mesprit’s

Dugtrio rationalizes his not being chosen as Wigglytuff and Chatot deciding he needs more quality time with his son, but Diglett is not yet at the level where he could handle a full expedition. He… might be right? At least partially? Like I said—I don’t think they would have separated the two long-term quite yet, but, in all honesty, Diglett does seem to be the more responsible of the pair at this moment. However, he also seemed to be leaning on his dad quite a bit during the actual expedition itself (looking to him for approval, for example) once they hit Base Camp, so it is also possible that his confidence is only because of his familiarity with the Guild and Treasure Town.

Whatever the case—Dugtrio decides to take this bonding opportunity to mentor his son on the complexities of the move Dig, and upon realizing/remembering that Laura also knows this move (or her expressing interest in learning it) decides to take her along, with Paula as a spotter. For some reason he decides the best place to do this is around the Northern Desert—likely as an intermediate sort of lesson, for how to deal with loose soil and cave-ins? Or something? Or, like, there just so happens to be a lot of jobs for that area, so he just decides once they finish them to start working on Dig lessons.

Croagunk remains behind to watch the guild and his Swap Cauldron.

The group ends up accidentally tunneling into Quicksand Cave and either decide to take the opportunity to explore, or have no other choice because the tunnels collapsed and they can’t get out otherwise. This is possibly Laura’s fault, if her feelings of déjà vu and familiarity for the place (which she did canonically feel there in canon, but to a somewhat lesser degree since she was comparing it to her experience at Foggy Forest—meaning that she would be feeling it even more here) distract her to the point of making some digging mistakes. The result either way is that they end up meeting Mesprit and seeing her Time Gear. She doesn’t really have good defenses like Uxie does—she can sort of project feelings of disinterest, fear to make others leave her alone, but only if she’s paying attention and considering that Laura is in the party, it might not work. So, they’re going to have to try and get through to her via words.

Team Rainbow may or may not reveal the whole “human” thing to Mesprit—unlike in canon where the stories about Uxie made them think he was directly involved in the amnesia, there isn’t really a correlation between Mesprit’s powers and Laura’s situation that they can tell, in addition to the fact that they are not alone here, and might feel awkward about bringing it up around Diglett and his dad.

Either way, Mesprit extracts a promise from them not to tell, and they go home. Croagunk remains oblivious.

 2nd Time Gear located: Azelf’s

Probably at some point they’ll run into Grovyle—who has a little more freedom of movement since he hasn’t been identified yet. He may or may not go into the guild itself at some point to gather news, but at some point he and Laura will spend some time standing next to each other—or she just happens to be in his vicinity for some reason, like if he’s on the Beach muttering to himself and she overhears and wanders over to listen.

We already know he has somewhat of a habit of talking to himself—which probably stems from how quiet Laura was while travelling with him, so he would basically just soundboard off of her whenever they were planning/he felt it was relatively safe to talk (because he was a bit more socialized and had parents who would have encouraged him to talk/theorize/ask questions when the environment is safe. Not to mention he had a friend in Celebi before she was forced to relocate). But because he got in the habit, he sort of forgets at times that his partner isn’t actually around at the moment, resulting in him, well, talking to himself. And then when, unbeknownst to him, Laura is around… well, he would sort of sense the familiarity and just fall back into those habits even easier.

The result of this is that she catches him debating which Time Gear location to go after next (though he wouldn’t actually say that part out loud) and she picks up the name Crystal Cave before he finally catches on to what he’s doing and makes a hasty exit. The name sounds familiar/intriguing, though, so Laura suggests that Team Rainbow go there next if they can find some jobs on the board. Which they do, so they do.

In the course of their work and exploring, they stumble upon the Crystal Lake. They are extremely nervous/panicked/general freaking out about finding another Time Gear when that was in no way their intent, and Azelf is curious/amused enough by the spectacle that he comes and investigates. He can tell they are determined to keep things a secret, and probably heard about the situation from Mesprit, so he’s actually pretty chill about the whole thing, and they probably even chat a little bit before the duo leaves. Laura probably gives him a warning that there might be a Grovyle coming to sight see or something in the near future, since that’s where she got the idea from to explore the place. So she unintentionally gives him the warning to be on the lookout, even though they still think at this time that his travelling plans were innocuous.

 3rd Time Gear located: Uxie’s

The guild finally returns, feeling a little bummed that their expedition was a failure—because, as I’ve said before, I think it is unlikely Uxie would have let the group (minus possibly Wigglytuff) see the lake if not for the hero and partner accidentally stalling for time and seeking unrelated information in the game, which would have endeared them to him more and made him more willing to risk it. Without them there—and without the partner finding the drought stone, since that may or may not have happened if they weren’t there (because, privately, I think the reason they found it in the first place was that everyone stampeding to explore accidentally unearthed it [and Uxie probably just goes and deposits it in a random place in the forest whenever it is successfully used and he has to resort to Groudon/memory wiping to drive them away] and then the partner just happened to look down at the right moment. But with fewer people in attendance, that part might not have happened).

Though, it is entirely possible (and likely) that Bidoof might have managed to find the stone if he got lost in the Forest Path loop one too many times, and then just decided to take it with him as a treasure, the way he did that random crystal in canon. And maybe they could successfully find the statue, but have to wait for Chatot or someone to decipher the footprint runes (because I get the feeling that’s an uncommon skill, but is one of the things the partner learned in preparation for fulfilling their dream), and then no one has any idea what the drought stone is. Possibly Bidoof doesn’t even pick it up until they’re leaving, and the group might not have had the cohesiveness they did in canon to all go and share their finds since Dugtrio wasn’t there to suggest the apprentices work as one. That left the group each holding a bunch of different puzzle pieces, but not being able to put them together.

Anyways, they return, life gets back to normal, Dusknoir shows up, yadda yadda. At some point Bidoof lets Laura look at the pretty rock he found, and she has a Dimensional Scream about its purpose (though she doesn’t yet know what her ability is called). This… probably gets shared with the guild at large? Especially if Dusknoir still happens to be hanging around when Bidoof is showing off? …Or if it happened the night they got back (before Dusknoir arrived), and then all the apprentices got excited and caught Chatot’s attention.

So, Wigglytuff decides that Bidoof, Paula, and Laura should go back there the next day to figure things out—since they’re the ones with the most pieces of the puzzle. And he probably lets them go alone, at that, so Bidoof can actually get another chance to fulfill his wish and actually teach his friends things. So they do, and find Uxie and his Time Gear. And probably also ask him about the memory thing (since I feel like Bidoof’s presence is less awkward as far as spilling that goes? He is kind of their teacher, and the one that they’re probably closest to, even if he doesn’t generally get to do as much for them as he’d hoped). More conversations ensue and promises of secrecy are made—as well as some vows to look into things since it is extremely weird that this duo keeps finding Time Gears when they aren’t even trying to do so—though Uxie is going to be vague about it with Bidoof’s presence, only mentioning that they’d made contact with his siblings without bringing up what they guard.

Uxie either gives them a random treasure or helps them come up with a cover story to tell everyone else—probably something like “it turns out that the legendary lake is just what happens when the fog “lifts.” Or, more “accurately,” what happens is all the fog and water vapor condense and absolutely drenches and waterlogs the forest. The groudon statue is, therefore, somewhat of a misdirection.

…Laura probably comes up with that explanation, purely because of how complex it is and how many logical leaps it requires. But they just let her have her fun with it, considering the personal disappointment she just went through.

Also—Grovyle’s timeline is a bit delayed from what it was in canon since he got a bit scared off by that brush with Laura and decided to lay low for a little bit. So he either shows up a day after they leave, or they happen to see him on their way back—but don’t pick up on the fact that he’s there to steal the Time Gear. Uxie does not think they told Grovyle about him both because of just how quickly he appeared after the trio left and because Azelf probably told him about Laura’s tourist warning.

 Fallout:

There is awkwardness among the Dugtrio family, Bidoof, and Team Rainbow when the news breaks about the Limestone Cavern gear being missing, and then even more when Grovyle is finally revealed as the thief—especially since that particular revelation comes with Laura blurting out about how she saw the guy earlier, and how he was making travel plans—so now she feels guilty that she didn’t think to question him about it. …And then with that comes the revelation that the remaining Time Gears’ locations are already known. Which does make it a little easier to actually go and fortify them, since they don’t have to spend time searching.

The end result is probably that they catch Grovyle at whichever lake he targets next, and the whole “getting dragged into the future” thing happens a lot earlier, and without the massive injury and illness from the Crystal Lake fight that gets alluded to in Missing Scenes. This also means that the Town Meeting scene probably doesn’t happen, since Dusknoir doesn’t actually need to utilize all those resources. Though there would have to be a scene or something that happens afterwards with the guild, at least—and probably Officer Magnezone—where Dusknoir would have to explain why he should get custody of the criminal.

This… leads to some interesting possibilities as far as whether or not the whole “the hero and partner get dragged into the future” thing would even happen. Because at the very least Dusknoir would have to give a reason for why Laura would need to come with him, and depending on where they do all this planning, and whether or not Grovyle happens to be in earshot for this…

Well, I’m imagining a scene or something where Dusknoir “suggests” that Laura (and probably Paula) guard Grovyle while he goes and gets all the sableye ready to prepare for a return trip (because that way he can keep the two of them close together if he needs to quickly grab them and run). Laura probably would accidentally touch him at some point and set off a dimensional scream, which would reveal, if not everything about her own personal history, then at least some inconsistencies in Dusknoir’s story. So Grovyle’s innocence would probably get sorted out fairly quickly, and then the issue would become how to protect him and the Time Gears from Dusknoir, as well as how to find the Hidden Land. …Or that dimensional scream happens right before Dusknoir drags him to the future, so Laura is still reeling from that revelation when she and Paula get dragged there as well—which would endear Grovyle and his efforts to them very quickly, and they would be on board with his plans from the start.

In any case, they would have a lot more time to plan, bond, and search for the Hidden Land after that. Which means discussion of Laura’s past and history would become inevitable, and the whole “we will disappear” thing might get figured out. But I don’t see this particular “what if…?” scenario being one where Relatia actually gets called to fix things, simply because Laura wouldn’t have quite enough time here to figure all of that out.

[taehyungsgrowl]

I hope you’re feeling better and sorry for the delay🥺💜 ~~ As Duncan walked through the ward to Nate’s room he did his best to suppress his anxieties. He never liked hospitals and after what he’d seen last week, he wasn’t exactly comfortable being here now. Duncan looked into the small room and saw Nate staring at the ceiling from his bed.

“Don’t tell me. Y/N’s upset and you need advice again?” Nate spoke without even looking at Duncan. He felt bad about the fight, especially after Duncan tried to apologize and he didn’t even try to hear him out. But he knew Duncan saw him that last visit. Watched Duncan take Y/N away from him, again. He knew Duncan wouldn’t tell her what he’d seen, she didn’t even know how much he wanted to go home, to see her and Maxie, to go back to even just a couple of months ago. When Nate didn’t hear a response he turned to Duncan, eyebrows raised.

“No! I’m here to talk to you about us. I mean, not us like us but us as in our friendship.“ Duncan took his sheet of thoughts out of his pocket and handed it to Nate. He was too nervous to try and explain everything, and while the letter wasn’t organized, the meaning was clear. Duncan was sorry, sorry for the fight, sorry for not checking in after their last conversation, sorry for taking Y/N out of his life even though he never meant to. All he could do was hope Nate accepted his apology this time.

—

Y/N spent most of the day cleaning up Maximus for their visit tomorrow. She had so many questions she wanted to ask Nate, but the number one was ‘when would he be getting out?’ Duncan wasn’t responding to any of her texts and she didn’t know where he was so she decided to spend the day with Maxie at the park. Even if Nate wasn’t coming home this week, spending time in his favorite place definitely helped. — When they returned from the park, y/n and Maxie found Duncan curled up in bed hugging a pillow. He’d been gone all day, whatever he was doing must have been exhausting because it wasn’t like Duncan to be in bed so early. She made her way over to wake him up and ask if he wanted dinner Nd if he was feeling okay. But when she sat next to him she noticed he wasn’t asleep, his eyes were red as if he’d been crying, and he wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Dunc? What’s wrong?” He mumbled something she couldn’t quite make out, in response. “Hey,” she laid down to be a bit closer to him, “what’s going on?” She asked before taking his hand and kissing his forehead.

“You still love him,” he said a bit louder. “What?” “And he’s in love with you.” Duncan said with a sigh, finally looking at y/n. “It doesn’t matter, I chose you. I love you.” She ran her thumb across his, kissing his cheek, trying to make him understand. “Why?” Duncan asked as he sat himself up against the headboard. “Because you love me more? Or because you’re too afraid to be with him again?”

–

this made me so EMO.. makes me wanna give Duncan some rights 🥺

–

Y/N stared back into Duncan’s eyes. It was an easy question, wasn’t it? But why did her chest tighten when she wanted to answer. 

She loved Duncan. Always had. She’d never be able to forgive herself for not realizing it sooner - wonders how it would have panned out if she knew she loved him before it was too late. 

Before they had to learn to build on something that had been broken since the beginning. 

“Duncan, I can’t change the way Nate feels. W-where were you today?” the feeling in her gut told her what she already knew. Duncan had spoken to Nate. 

Anger started to pool inside her. She didn’t want to be angry with Duncan - but Nate was already in such a vulnerable spot – she can’t help but think of what Duncan’s visit did to Nate. Hates that he went without telling her – that he saw Nate before she did, knowing how much she wanted to see him. 

“You avoid the question when you don’t want to say the truth.” 

“Duncan. I don’t know what more you want from me. I love you. I chose you. And it never seems to be enough for you.” She scooted away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. Maxie nuzzled his head against Duncan’s leg, trying to comfort him. 

“You shouldn’t have gone to see Nate without telling me.” she spoke quietly. 

Duncan straightened out, “You don’t even know why I was there.”

“Well, then tell me what good reason you have to hide that from me.” 

Duncan pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep himself from crying again. His unanswered question still not forgotten, but he knew not having an answer from her was enough to know the truth. 

Maybe it was his fault he and Y/N kept fighting. He kept blaming Nate, thinking he was causing a wedge between them. Then blamed Y/N for not loving him enough. 

Maybe it was simply him. 

“The moment we don’t communicate is the moment this stops working,” she closed her eyes, trying to take a deep breath. 

“Is there anything left to say?” 

-- 

earlier

--

“You know you didn’t have to do this,” Nate looked at the apology Duncan handed him when he was done. 

Duncan didn’t say anything, only grimaced. 

“But I’m glad you came.” Nate offered him a smile, “I know it’s not easy.”

“How are you, Nate? Really.”

“You sound like my therapist,” Nate laughed it off. When Duncan didn’t budge, he sighed and nodded slowly, “I am okay. Working on it, you know?”

“I know,” 

By the end of his visit they had both had their fair share of tears. With one final hug, Duncan patted Nate’s back. “I know she loves you too,” he whispered, “It’s what makes it so hard for me.” 

Before Nate could say more, Duncan finished with an, “Take care, Grayson,” leaving him alone in his room again. 

[19-queenbee-97]

I Knew You Were Trouble | Stray Kids AU

Chapter 3 

Warning | Drinking, Language(?)

Word Count | 1.9k

a/n Trying to make these look nicer. I might go back and fix the other 2 as well. Little bit longer this time. I know i said this would probably only be 3 chapters but I only have a general idea of where this is going so as i write it it sorta just gets bigger (and hopefully better but y’all are the judges of that.) I don’t know exactly how many more chapters this will have but probably like 1-2 more. Maybe. I’m not good at sticking to what I say. The question mark is next to language cause I've forgotten like 99% of what I wrote. I need to stop writing these on no sleep. That is my excuse if there are any mistakes. Ok imma stop here now.

~~~~~~

It’s been two weeks since Chan first showed up in my history class. Since that lecture he’s always showing up out of nowhere. If we share a class he always sits close to me, but I’ve followed my unspoken rule of not acknowledging his existence hoping he’ll go away. Thankfully he has yet to sit right next to me but with the way my luck has been going he’s gonna do it sooner or later. He hasn’t spoken to me yet but I can hear him react to things I say.  Rosé and Lisa are the only people who will sit next to me these days. I don’t know why I’ve suddenly become the center of his attention but I hope everything goes back to normal soon. I run into him All. The. Time. I’m so over it. I’ve started spending a lot of time in the library hoping I’ll get away from him. The worst part about it is all the whispering. No one but Rosé and Lisa talk TO me but everyone else on campus don’t seem to mind talking ABOUT me and why Chan seems to never leave my company. Honestly people don’t you know pointing and staring is rude? I can hear all your whispers, do you think I asked for the hot bad boy who may or may not get me killed to start paying attention to me?

Ever since this whole situation began I’ve picked up the habit of ranting about life out loud. I hate it but it helps relieve the frustration for some reason. I hear him laugh whenever I do it. “For the last time Lisa I am not going. I’ve said it 17 times now, I will not say it again.” Yes I am actually counting. Even though I said that I know she’s gonna keep asking until I crack and say yes, but I am as stubborn as a mule so she will reach the hundreds until I finally do. Unfortunately she has 4 more days until the Halloween party and it’s only 9 am. “It’s gonna be so much fun though. Like everyone is going.” Sigh. “I know they will. That is why I’ll be staying home and watching Horton hears a who for the 25th time on Netflix.” It was the wind, just ignore it, it’s definitely not Chan. “But it’s ha… Did you say 25 times? Really?” Don’t look at me like that or I’ll bite you. “Yes. Stop with the face, it’s a masterpiece of cinematography.” 100 percent the wind. “Oook, moving on. You have to come. I already told Binnie you’d be there.” I’m just glad she stopped flinching whenever he makes a noise. That really got on my nerves. “You know how disappointed she’ll be if you don’t show.” Oh she’s pulling all the stops now. “That’s just low. You know I can’t say no to those puppy dog eyes of hers.” Thankfully she’s not actually here. “It’s still a no and I’ll just have to deal with the disappointment.”

True to my thoughts she continued to pester me about going to the party until 4 days later 3 hours before the party I cracked. It wasn’t just Lisa though, she bought reinforcements. “I’m actually gonna kill all of you. I know how to make it look like natural causes too. I spend far too much time on the internet.” They could at least let me choose my own outfit but no, here I am on my bed just glaring at them as they rifle through my clothing in an attempt to find something they deem “suitable”. That meaning as short as humanly possible with plenty of skin showing up top. “Yes dear we know.” Why’d they have to bring Binnie into it? I know her sorority is the one throwing it but I can’t deny that girl anything. She’s adorable. If it were just Rosé and Lisa I would’ve been fine….. probably. Ok I wouldn’t have been but I can pretend. As much as I hate this I’m just happy that Binnie doesn’t seem to care about my whole Bad Boy Leech Problem™. She came back from her month break found out what happened and just rolled with it. “I don’t have time to go back to my dorm, Rosie got anything she can wear? Nothing I’ve found is good enough. “Hmmmm, maybe. I think I have a good one. Just a sec.” Well, they don’t like my clothes, nice. “Come here and let Binnie start your hair while I set up the makeup.” They aren’t even going to see me coming. They’ll be going about their day and then I’ll just be there. Then they’ll be gone and I’ll use my elite skills to, “Oww, Binnie.” She’s first even though she’s my favorite. “Sorry. Don’t worry the hair will cover the burn.” Don’t look at me with that cute smile. I’m tryna be mad at you. “What do you think?” I think I’d rather wear jeans and a hoodie but I don’t get a choice. “Isn’t this a halloween party? Why am I not going as a bunny or something?” I have the perfect onesie for it. “We got you a mask.” Yes, because that’s the best halloween costume. “It’s perfect Rosie.” Makeup happened at this point.

I’ve been here all of 20 minutes and I’m already over it. People with red plastic cups everywhere, people making out wherever I look. PDA, disgusting. Everyone is dressed up in actual halloween costumes. The three demons that caused my pain are dressed as a slutty bunny, a slutty maid and a cute angel, 2 guesses as to which one that is. Speaking of slutty bunny is headed my way with 2 red plastic cups. “You could at least pretend to be having a good time.” I don’t think Rosé understands how deep my hatred for these events runs. “I could. But then people would think I’m here by choice. I want everyone to know that I want to be anywhere but here.” I need some wood because of her next sentence, or maybe a bottle to hit her with. That would also work. “At least you know Chan won’t be here. He’s never been to one of these parties.” She’s jinxed it now. I’m gonna have to look over my shoulder the whole time I’m here now. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.” She’s laughing. The absolute nerve. I’ve changed my mind, she’s first. “Calm down and drink your worries away.” Easy for her to say, she doesn’t have a Bad Boy Leech Problem™. Sipping the drink she handed me as she walks away I scan the room to see if I can find Binnie. She’s the only reason I’m here so I’ll be damned if I let her get away from my moping. Making a bee line for her as soon as she came into sight I was stopped by some guy dressed as Luigi who was tryna dance all up on me even as I tried to get past to Binnie. “Dude imma stand on your toe if you don’t skedaddle.” It seems he didn’t quite hear me. “I said-“ Gonna kill all of em’. “She said beat it kid.” Especially Rosé. Luigi couldn’t seem to get out of the way fast enough. Continuing on my quest to get to Binnie I felt him follow. I hate how well I’ve adapted to ignoring him.

When I finally reached Binnie which took a lot less time than expected, probably because of the guard leech, she took one look at me then looked to Chan, then back to me and I could see the apology in her eyes. Those goddamn puppy dog eyes. “We will talk later but just know my statement stands. You’ll never see it coming.” Having Chan standing right there seemed to be making her nervous so I just let out a sigh and moved to find a corner that was loud enough that holding conversation would be to troublesome but quiet enough that I won’t go deaf. “We can go anywhere you want and I promise I won’t try to make conversation.” Do I trust that or should I keep looking for my perfect corner. Giving him the benefit of the doubt I find a nice secluded corner to hide from everyone in. And he’s gone. How did I not notice that until now? Should I be relieved? I know I should but I feel a little disappointed. Taking another sip of my drink if whatever it is I noticed something. It’s empty. I don’t remember drinking it but it’s gone and there’s nothing on my dress or shoes so I assume I didn’t spill it. “Did you seriously only now realize your cup is empty? Not very observant are you?” It’s a good thing the cup was empty because it would be all over the both of us. He is a ninja, I swear. I didn’t see him at all and now he’s right in front of me. “What happened to not making conversation?” I need to work on my Glare of Doom™, he didn’t even flinch. Handing me a cup of some kind of alcohol I assume, he smirked. Dammit. I acknowledged him. “I was just saying. I’ll stop now.” That god damned smirk is lethal. I looked at the cup, then at him, then at the cup, then at him again but suspiciously. “What is it?” I wanna punch that smirk off his face. “Vodka and lemonade. Don’t worry I’m not trying to drug you.” Sniffing it, as if that would tell me anything, I took a cautious sip. He’s yet to try and kill me and he seems smart enough to realize he’d get caught if he did while surrounded by this many people. It tastes the same as what Rosé gave me so I’m just gonna hope he’s telling the truth.

We stood there in silence for what felt like a year but was realistically only 20 minutes. I have to pee. I have no idea where the bathroom is. I assume he doesn’t either since Rosie said he’s never been to one of these thing either, and I wouldn’t ask him anyway, since I’ve gone back to pretending he doesn’t exist. Pushing myself off the wall and walking away abruptly in the hopes he won’t react in time and I’ll lose him, I go in search of a bathroom. It didn’t work so I had Chan following me as I walked around looking like a lost child looking for their mum. “There’s a bathroom on the 2nd floor, 3rd doorway to the right.” Not acknowledging him but taking his advice, I went back to the entryway we just walked through and started climbing up the stairs. Coming up to the door there was a line so I just leaned against the wall with my eyes closed and sipped at my drink while we waited. As the line moved Chan nudged my shoulder a little to make me move up. “It’s your turn.” I handed him my drink and walked into the bathroom. Doing what I came to do, I thought about how this night has been going. I hated it at first, and I’m still not really enjoying myself but I find myself hating it less and less as time goes by. “C’mon princess people are waiting.” Why am I red? Am I blushing? Just from that? Shaking my head to clear it, double checking my face to make sure I’m not red and making sure all of Binnie’s work hasn’t come undone I open the door and come face to face with Chan. “There you are princess, you were taking so long I almost kicked the door in.” I’m really finding it hard to hate tonight.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

shelter; adam page [two]

Notes: 

Originally posted on my main, and literally no one asked for this. I haven’t written a third part but.. I plan to keep this one going and so, it’s getting transferred to this blog. I swear, soon.. Soon I’ll write a third chapter to it. Hell,maybe even sooner than you think. ;P. 

Summary: 

It’s only been one night / day so far and already the tension -and awkward flirty close moments of lingering sexual tension, is so thick you can cut through it with a knife. A trip to the grocery store and lots of flirty bantering back and forth.

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Birdie McGregor

Warning:

alcohol tw possible. mentions of sheltering in place / covid-19, kind of a slow burn to it and kind of not.

                             CHAPTER TWO : WHATS THE HARM

Having totally forgotten about Adam’s arrival back at the house the night before, I got up when I heard my alarm going off nearby. Yawning, I stretched my arms up and rubbed my eyes upon lowering them. For a few seconds I was scratching my head at the fact that I’d fallen asleep in the living room, but I ultimately shrugged it off, standing and quietly padding across the hallway and into the kitchen.

What I needed was caffeine.

And food, if the growling of my stomach was anything to go by.

I rummaged through the fridge, gathering ingredients for pancakes, eggs and bacon. I placed it all on the counter nearby, and I was digging out a mixing bowl when I thought I heard the door to Adam’s bedroom close and footsteps coming towards the kitchen. It hit me then, Adam had come home the night before.

And naturally, around the time he made it into the kitchen, I was remembering the soft press of rough lips against my forehead last night and I could feel my body heating up at the memory. I took a deep breath and tried like hell to get myself together.

Music… Music would take away the silence and drive out any possible tension that might be heavy between the two of us; again, we are practically strangers who just happen to be sharing a house.

But of course, the first song to play when I fired up the SiriusXM app on my cell phone?

An inherently sexual one from the bluegrass and folk station I’d been listening to the night before while grading the last of the actual papers I had to grade and making an online lesson plan for the new week approaching.

I think I played it off pretty well, humming along as I found my electric mixer, plugging it in, focusing intently on mixing the batter for chocolate chip pancakes. I didn’t dare look up though. I could just feel him in the room with me, watching me.

The song ended and the batter started to get smoother and I cut off the mixer, sitting it to the side, taking one of the attachments to lick clean. When I turned around to grab something, I found myself body to body with Adam and I gulped.

All I could do was try -and fail at not staring. He eyed me and chuckled softly. “You’re up early.” I finally managed to mutter. Adam shrugged and I caught him eyeing the other attachment that was still hooked to the mixer, sitting on top of the counter. I gave a soft laugh and turned a little, detaching it and holding it out to him.

He took it and I bit my lip as I watched his tongue trailing slowly over the curved bits of the attachment. After he’d licked it clean, he held it out, this soft sort of little smirk on his face as he did so. “Everythin’ okay, darlin?”

“I.. yeah. Yeah, everything is totally fine.” I tangled my fingers in my hair, dragging them through as I held his gaze. Adam chuckled and spoke up calmly. “Your bacon is burnin, woman.”

“What? No… Well fuck.” I groaned as I shook my head. Adam hurried over to the stove, grabbing the skillet and wrinkling his nose at the smell of burnt bacon while laughing. He made his way to the garbage, hurriedly tossing the burnt bacon down into the trash. All I could really do was stand there and laugh at myself.

And shake my head about it, of course.

I swear, sometimes this man can bring out my true inner awkwardness without so much as anything more than a smile.

My alarm started to go off again and I groaned as soon as I realized that meant it was 8:30 and time for me to get upstairs to my room, to my laptop. Because I had a classroom of students waiting for me on Zoom.

I opened the cabinets, rummaging around for the brightly colored Fiestaware plates I’d picked up a few months ago, taking a turquoise one and an orange one out, sitting them on the counter top. Adam was standing at the stove, apparently, he’d decided he just couldn’t eat breakfast without meat of some kind, so he was making sausage. Despite my trying not to, I found myself just sort of watching him. Thinking about how much more relaxed it was than I’d anticipated the night before when he got in. I’d been fearing there would be this overwhelming awkward tension between us, given how little we actually know about each other.

It was nice to discover that I was potentially wrong about the situation.

Adam happened to look up and over at me, catching me in mid stare. I quickly diverted my eyes, focusing on the growing pile of bacon on a navy blue plate sitting nearby and reaching out to take one. He reached out at the same time and our hands brushed and we both just sort of stared at each other for a second or two before Adam broke it in half, holding out one piece to me, sticking the other piece into his mouth and chewing it up.

“I make you nervous or somethin’, darlin?” Adam finally asked the question after the silence became too much for him.

… oh you have no idea, sir… and i’m watching your rodeos now and… every single time you tug at those jeans before you get onto your bull to ride, it does something to me… the thought came, but I shook my head quickly, taking another bite of the half of bacon he’d given me a second ago. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know, you just seem tense or something.” Adam muttered it quietly, glancing down at the countertop as if he were already assuming the worst. He looked up and over at me and I bit my lip, taking a sip of the coffee I’d just poured myself.

… really? I thought I was handling this pretty well, all things considered… I mulled it over as I finished eating the strip of bacon and finally, I sighed. “Probably just stress from everything going on right now. You definitely do not make me nervous. You’re probably about as scary as a box of kittens if I have to be honest, Mr. Page.”

“We’ve been livin here together for a while now. You can call me Adam.” he chuckled quietly, stepping a little closer and shaking his head as he stared down at me.

“Sorry, it’s just force of habit?” I apologized, shrugging as I studied him intently, smiling in the hopes it would reassure him.

I mean… Technically, I’m being honest. It’s not him that makes me nervous and flustered, it’s the way he makes me feel whenever we’re around each other. So technically, I reminded myself a second time, my nervous feelings have nothing at all to do with him.

“It’s okay.” Adam gave this gentle and teasing sort of smirk as he held out another piece of bacon to me. I took it, grateful to have something to shovel into my mouth and take my mind off of exactly what feelings his sudden closeness and presence  did stir up in me.

Definitely longing. Attraction. So many emotions I couldn’t quite put my fingers on just yet. I reached for some syrup to put on my pancakes and as I turned to do it, I found myself body to body with Adam in the middle of the kitchen. I gulped when I felt one of his hands brush against my hip and he bit his lip, nodding to the counter. “Somethin you need?”

“The maple syrup.” I managed to get it out, even as I felt his hand brush right against my skin again. If I were a lot bolder, I’d almost assume he was flirting with me. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I shoved it right back out.

Because there’s no way he’s flirting right now. Nope. Not at all.

His laughter got my attention and as soon as I realized that I’d missed my pancakes and drizzled maple syrup haphazardly over my plate instead, I felt my cheeks heating. Cutting into the stack and dipping them in the syrup, I met his gaze boldly. “Bold of you to assume I didn’t do that on purpose, Mr… I mean Adam.”  I corrected myself quickly, remembering that me calling him Mr. Page apparently didn’t sit well with him.

He shrugged and took a bite of his own stack of pancakes and then a sip of orange juice, groaning as soon as he’d swallowed the juice down. “Is this real oranges?”

“Mhm. That’s how my grams always did it. Hand squeezed. Tastes better than a crapload of sugar, I think.”

“It really does.” Adam muttered through a mouthful.

“Shit. I need to finish this and get upstairs. I may be home but I’m still workin..” I muttered, mostly to myself. Adam nodded and took a few bites of his food, asking the question, “Think you might wanna help me out later? Gonna go check the cows.”

“Of course! Hey… if things get weird like I figure they will, dumbasses panic buying all the things.. Couldn’t hurt to think about a garden or something.” I threw out the suggestion, half expecting him to think I was crazy or in panic mode.

Panic mode he wouldn’t be entirely wrong about because I have been freaking out a little.. No, I’ve been freaking out a lot since this virus hit. Either way, I was more than a little surprised when he reached out, fluffing at my hair and nodding thoughtfully while giving me one of those bright grins of his. “It’s not a bad idea, actually. I can go to town later, pick up some things.”

“You don’t have to..” I trailed off and Adam shrugged, chuckling. “I’m here, might as well do somethin’ useful.”

I gave a nod and raked out my food into the compost bucket, sitting my dish in the sink. Adam did the same and after a few seconds, he spoke up again. “Thanks.”

“For what, exactly?” I raised a brow as I asked the question. All I do here is literally what he asks me to do and tries to pay me for. I dragged my fingers through my hair, taking another sip of coffee while I waited on him to answer my question.

“Not bailin out and going back to the city when all this shit broke.” Adam smiled at me and I nodded, shrugging. Honestly, I moved out here to escape the city. To clear my head.

To live that simpler life I enjoyed as a kid at my grandparents house over summer break.

And maybe, my mind saw fit to remind me, you sticking around has everything to do with a certain bull rider, hmm? - but of course, since I’m not willing to admit that and risk making things extremely awkward, I shoved that thought right out of my head.

“Like I said. It’s not a big deal. I wanted to get outta the city, there’s really nothing there for me.” - it wasn’t a lie either, all I left behind was a tiny and crappy apartment, a string of failed and bad relationships and teaching a group of kids who were so used to hearing they’d never amount to shit that they were preconditioned to not even attempting to learn and try to get themselves out of their situations. It was disheartening on a good day, downright depressing on a bad one. I sighed and gave him a smile.

“Hey.. If you really want to go into town and look into getting seeds and stuff, wait until I’m done with this Zoom class? I’d like to go too.”

Adam smiled, nodding. “Aren’t you late for your own class,ma’am?” he teased as he held my gaze and leaned in a little closer. When he trailed his thumb over the corner of my mouth I gave a soft giggle and he explained quietly, “You, umm.. Syrup.” and I thanked him for getting it, going silent for a second or two.

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure a good half of them aren’t even up and functional yet. It’ll surprise me if anyone’s even signed into the classroom and waiting.” I gave a soft laugh and grabbed the rest of my coffee and Adam leaned out of the kitchen to holler down the hall after me jokingly, “Hey, teach! You might consider puttin on pants before you start your lesson, right?”

I looked down and palmed my face, biting my lip. “Fuck.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was really tense around him. I stopped at the top of the stairs, leaning against the hallway wall to really think about it. Now that we’re all sheltering in place I’m going to have to find some way to work around all the feelings this man stirs up in me. Otherwise, I’m going to lose my damn mind.

“Okay, tomorrow we’re going to start on time.” I was smiling as I signed off of Zoom, giving one last wave goodbye to the students who’d actually signed on to be in class. We’d mostly talked about how hard things were around our little rural area because of the shelter in place. Then we’d gone over a history lesson and done a little english.

I stood and stretched, turning to peek through the curtains out of my bedroom window. And I bit my lip as soon as I realized that the noise I’d been hearing earlier was apparently Adam, who’d gotten bored from the looks of it, and was going over a section of land with the tractor, breaking up dirt.

I gave a soft laugh, pressing my hand against the window and shaking my head. “I meant a little garden, sir.” I mumbled quietly as I made myself step away from the window and focused on throwing on some of my older jeans and one of my favorite old plaid shirts. I was tugging on my boots at the front door of the house when Adam walked in, sweaty and grimy. I wrinkled my nose at him and he chuckled. “First a beer, then shower. I know, darlin. Looks bad.”

“You’re a little burnt on your shoulders actually. How long have you been out there?”

“Long enough to get everything disked up and ready. Now all we gotta do is go into town and buy seeds and stuff.”

“Yeah, about that.. To clarify, I said garden.”

“And? That’s what I did, woman.”

“That’s a field, sir.” I gestured to the window, to the plot of land he’d just spent an entire half day plowing and preparing to plant. It was… definitely much bigger than your typical ‘garden’ plot. Not bigger than my grandparents, but they were also farmers too, and they liked to take produce down to market and sell it 2 to 3 times a year.

Adam was just a semi pro bull rider who rodeoed most of the year and raised cattle and horses or broke horses the rest.

“Not out here, it ain’t. I got the land, might as well put it to use, right?” Adam dragged his fingers through his hair, giving that lazy grin that was notorious for making my stomach flutter ever-so-slightly. “Sides.. Maybe if I can get it growin now and this thing lasts as long as people are talkin about, I can give the stuff we don’t use to some of the neighbors down the road or somethin.”

“Yeah, true.” I agreed and bit my lip, shaking myself out of deep thought when I remembered that he’d mentioned something to drink. I started to walk towards the kitchen where he’d vanished to but almost as soon as I hit the doorway, he was leaning in it lazily, staring down at me.

And me, being lost in the blue of his eyes, well.. I couldn’t do anything but stare right back. I cleared my throat and muttered quietly, “I was gonna grab a glass of tea.”

Adam stepped aside, but not quickly enough because we wound up brushing against each other in the doorframe. And again, I felt his hand lingering at my side subtly.

“I still say I make ya nervous, darlin.” Adam spoke up from where he stood as I poured my glass of tea after reaching the fridge. I gave a soft laugh, shrugging it off and I looked up, meeting his gaze. “I still argue you’re wrong, Adam.”

Adam coughed, but I heard him clearly say Bullshit as he did so. I gave a shrug and a teasing look as I took another sip of my tea. “Whether you believe me or not, Adam, that’s on you.”

He chuckled and took a few more quick sips of his long neck bottle before clearing his throat. “Should probably get showered so we can get goin. Curfew and all.”

“Yeah, this is true.” I answered, sitting down the glass I’d been drinking from and looking up at him.

“Days just seem to bleed into each other right now, ya know?” Adam mused and I nodded in agreement. They certainly did. Each one passing slower than the last. He’d only been here a day and a half. I’d been dealing with this part of it for almost four. I had the strong feeling that by the third day, the poor guy was going to be going stir-crazy.

And hopefully, just because we were now having to do the actual  cohabitating part of our arrangement, with him here now, things would  be just a little easier than I’d originally seen this whole thing going, when I thought Adam wouldn’t be coming back home until his usual and expected end of rodeo season.

Then again, I found myself thinking, literally no one ever saw any of this coming. And maybe I should just make the best of the situation, stop making it awkward, stop being so tense around Adam. This arrangement we had going did not have to be awkward at all.. Putting my own…. Attraction to the man aside, we could definitely be friends, there was no harm in that. I got it set firmly in my mind that rather than continuing to dwell on just how attracted to Adam I was, I was simply going to try for co-existing and hopefully, if I was lucky, making friends with him.

Given my luck in more recent years, -all of it bad, that was probably the far better thing to do.

Even as I made the decision, I got the distinct feeling that just trying to be friends was… Going to be a little more challenging than I thought.

Still, I thought to myself as I put the empty glass into the sink to wash later, I could at least try. That would definitely make this whole shelter in place scenario so much easier for both of us.

Adam was showering so I sat down at the dining table after going through the pantry and the fridge and the cabinets to see what we’d need to get us through for a few weeks. I’d just finished making my list when I heard him chuckle from behind me.

“Oh how cute, she’s makin a list.” Adam teased and I glanced up at him, poking out my tongue. “So I can get in, get what I know is needed and get out.”

“Where’s the fun in that though, hm?” Adam questioned, blue eyes fixed on me and gazing deep into my own. Almost as if he were definitely trying to distract me, which of course, it did work. I grumbled and tore the sheet of paper free from the magnetized notepad I usually kept on the door of the fridge and held it out. “Either way, fun or not, it is all stuff we’re going to need. So, if you don’t mind, hang onto that?” I asked, pretending to pout when he took the list and eyed it as if he were going to crumple it only to slip it in the pocket of faded blue jeans.

“I make no promises,darlin. If I see junk food, I’m buyin junk food.” Adam waved his hands and I couldn’t help but smile at it because it was just… Cute? Okay, that sounds so frickin cheesy… But it’s true? He looked cute. As if he were a kid, trying to tell his mother he hadn’t done something that his mother probably knew full well he had.

I eyed him and shook my head, laughing. “Okay, alright. It’d be nice to have a pint of ice cream later.” I grabbed my keys from the key rack on the iron ‘home’ key rack hanging beside the door and I turned to him, tossing them. “You’ve been staring at my car since I moved in. I know you want to drive it.”

He pretended to scoff for a second or two, but he quickly grabbed the keys from my hand, giving me that boyish smirk and sending my heart race again. “It’s just because I want to find out if Dodge really is a good company.. Ya know, being a Ford or Chevrolet guy myself for so long.”

“You do realize that Ford stands for Found On Road Dead, right?”

“Hey, hey.. No need in bein mean, darlin. Besides, your little sports car is probably just fast and not built to last.” Adam was stepping closer, staring down at me, biting his lip. If I were a lot more self assured, I’d almost want to say he was staring at my lips like… No, he didn’t want to kiss me.

He probably sees women who are so much prettier on the daily when he’s out being a rodeo star. He probably takes them back to his hotel, I found myself thinking next, having to clear my throat abruptly just to clear my mind and get the focus back on our outing. Adam’s hand lightly squeezed my side and he chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

“What?”

“It’s nothin. C’mon, let’s go get this done.” Adam was reaching out over my shoulder to push the front door open and when he brushed against me as he leaned in a little to do so, I looked up at him. “I warn you, it’s an absolute madhouse in town. And if you think we’re getting toilet paper or anything? Likely not.”

“Why toilet paper?” Adam questioned, a brow raised as he shook his head and muttered about some people and their overwhelming lack of common sense. I sighed and shrugged, making my way to my Challenger, standing by the passenger door as I tapped my foot and waited on him. When he finally got to the car, he eyed me. “You’re not in?”

“You have the key. City girl here, remember? I never just leave my car or the house unlocked… Speaking of… You did lock up the place… Right?”

“Darlin, we are in the middle of nowhere.” Adam pointed out, gazing at me before turning to look back at the front door to the house after he’d aimed my key fob at the car to unlock it. “Sides.. I can’t exactly lock up the barn and stables, all the valuable stuff is in there.”

“Doesn’t matter, Adam. The door needs to be locked. You never know what could happen.” I pointed it out mildly, going on to tell him that 3 times in a month my old apartment had actually been broken into before I left the city to move out here. He eyed me in concern and I quickly reassured with a shrug, “I wasn’t home for any of them, thankfully. Does piss me off knowing that given all the bigger scale crime though, actually doing something about it would’ve done nothing in the end.”

“You didn’t report it?” Adam gaped at me, shocked when I admitted that I hadn’t tried to actually get anything done about it. I almost wanted to cringe, thinking back about it because it was one of those things, ya know? Where you suck at defending yourself for the most part and getting fucked over becomes the norm. You just kind of let it ride, go with it and hope for the best down the road. If you’re wondering, yes. I did this a lot. And yeah, on occasion I do still do it. It’s just.. Easier… Not to be a troublemaker or make waves.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, giving a defeated sigh. Nothing I could say to explain it would make this any more logical, I could just see it in his eyes. He was genuinely confused as to why I didn’t try to report it.

“It’s not really friendly there like it is around here, okay? Besides, the cops have a lot more important things to worry about, like the actual murders and robberies that happen all the time.” I explained it away, but I felt it boiling at my gut all over again, the anger I’d felt all three occasions to coming back, discovering that a few possessions and some money were gone. The pathetic excuse and my lack of action was also still eating at me and this had taken place a year ago.

Adam cleared his throat and dug around, finding his house key as he muttered, “I’ll go lock the door. Can’t hurt.” and I gave him a relieved look, getting into the passenger side of the car. He hurried back down the brick front steps and got into the driver seat, taking off down the long dirt driveway. As we drove into town, I squirmed in my seat a little.

One, I’m not used to being a passenger in my car. Like at all. Two, I was starting to feel that thick tension creeping back in. The air seemed like it hung heavy with words not said. It was starting to get to me, so I guess that’s why I reached out, turning down the volume on the radio. Adam seemed to be off in his own mind too, because when I finally thought of something to say, “Looks like it’s gonna rain soon.” he muttered a quiet and thoughtful, “Probably so.” and swore under his breath because he’d just spent over half the day plowing up the ground and the rain might mess all that up now. I couldn’t help but give a quiet laugh.

“Just curious, darlin… Ain’t you got… Like… family or a man back in the city?” the question came totally out of the blue and when I glanced over, he was doing it again, giving me that look all over again.

“I don’t, actually. My parents and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms. As far as a relationship, haven’t really… Been in one of those for almost two years now. I..” I paused, biting my lip and taking a deep breath, “got burned really bad in the last one.”

Adam nodded, muttered quietly, “Me too.. On the relationship thing, I mean. Parents are livin in some retirement community out in Colorado. My dad’s idea.” Adam shrugged and reached out, turning the volume up just a little, leaving me to kind of sit there and puzzle out what he’d just admitted.

Okay, in what world is a hunky semi-pro bull rider not involved with at least one person? And he certainly seemed like a nice enough guy from the little we’d interacted since I moved into his house… It definitely made me wonder and it only further drove home the fact that maybe getting to know the man I’m cohabitating with isn’t a bad idea at all.

I mean… we should know a lot more about each other than we already do.

The local supermarket came into view and Adam pulled my car into one of the closer spots to the door, sitting there for a few seconds as if he wanted to say something else. When he finally did break the silence, it was to gently repeat something he’d said earlier in the morning.

“Ya know.. We’re stuck together in this. Wouldn’t hurt to get more comfortable around each other, I’d think.”

“No, it definitely wouldn’t.”

He smiled at me and then raised slightly in his seat, digging out my list, holding it out to me. “Your list, darlin.”

“Tease all you want, but when you’re back at the house and we actually have everything we need to last a while, you’ll see the reasoning there.” I laughed softly, taking the slip of paper from his hand. For a second or two, our fingertips brushed and I bit my lip. He did the same before answering with a shrug, “Won’t matter if I wanted a candy bar or somethin and we don’t have that.”

“You’ll get your junk, sir. Are we going in or are we just gonna sit out here and talk about it all night, cowboy?” I teased, almost wanting to cringe at the flirtatious tone in my voice while also praying to hell that Adam didn’t actually… Read that much into things, because it hadn’t really been intentional. My breath caught in my throat when he eyed me a second or two, this soft and laughing smirk on his face as he got out. I got out too, shutting the door behind me and Adam locked the car, extending his arm. I grabbed a cart and bit my lip when I felt his chest ever so slightly brushing into my back.

He chuckled softly next to my ear. “I still say I make you nervous.” he dared to say it and I bit down on my lip harder, taking a deep breath, turning slightly to look over my shoulder at him, my head shaking and a teasing grin on my face.

I mean… If he’s gonna tease me, why not, right?

“I do believe someone is ignoring social distancing protocols, sir.” I stepped from beneath the way he had his arms on either side of me, his hands on the cart handle and slunk over to the potatoes, grabbing a 5 lb. bag and returning with it, putting it into the cart, flashing him yet another little smile and laughing.

Adam chuckled, grabbing for a bag of apples near the fruits and vegetables, putting them into the cart. “Cute diversion. But I’m still goin by what I said earlier at the house. For some reason, I make you real nervous.”

“Nope.” I’d turned away, busying myself with buying ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise and when I turned back with the three bottles, I found myself body to bod with him again and he was staring down at me thoughtfully, reaching for two of the three bottles in my hand to sit them into the cart. He didn’t break his gaze a single time and I found my breath catching.

Something my grandma said to me once about her and Grandpa came rushing back to me and I mulled it over before quickly shoving it right out of my head.

I barely know Adam. This is just me, being awkward as fuck because I have always been awkward as fuck around men I’m attracted to. It has to be… Right?

But gazing up at him as he gazed right back, I suddenly wasn’t as confident in that as I’ve been up to this point. I mean… I keep feeling like he’s flirting with me. Like he feels truly comfortable around me and this is the real Adam… Not the Adam I’m used to seeing after a winning round at whatever rodeo he happens to be riding in on television when I watch. He’s not cocky, not intense.. He’s just.. A genuinely sweet and good guy. Funny, down to earth and charming.

I tried to get a grip of myself as he started to laugh quietly and reached out, taking the paper from my hand. “Maybe if each of us takes half…” he suggested and I swallowed hard, shaking my head, giving him a smile. “No, no. No. Today’s just been… Weird. I’m used to being alone when I do this. But this is fine, I’m having a good time. And for the last time, no… you do not make me nervous. Not even a little.” I said it in a rush and he chuckled, shrugging as he grabbed a jar of pickles and put them into the cart.

“Whatever you say, darlin. What’s next then?”

“Uh… You’re gonna love this. The mandatory junk food and quick meals.” I joked gently, making him laugh as he pointed out, “You do realize I can cook, right?”

“Yeah, but you’re in and out of hotels at least 100 plus days a year, so…”

“And yet, you nearly burnt down the kitchen just this morning.”

“Bite me.”

“Where, darlin?” Adam joked, again with that grin that I couldn’t tell whether he was being a tease or whether he was… Really flirting with me… Like he was into me.

Then again, I’ve never been good at deciphering cues or hints, to begin with. So, I don’t dare get my hopes up that high.