#i NEED TO HANG OUT WITH HIM. MAYBE EVEN SOCIAL LINK?? (highly doubting it but i can cope)

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing

Part Summary: While Y/N is out shopping with Cara, news breaks that ties her with MGK. 

Masterlist

Masterlist

Two days later...

Cara and I go out shopping and have lunch for a girl’s day. I have yet to talk about the other night with Sam. Cara hasn’t mentioned it and I have no plans to either. Cameras have followed us up and down Rodeo Drive. By this point, Cara and I are both used to it. Carrying my bags however, I doubt I look graceful for these videos their taking. Oh well, they have fifteen thousand more of me.

“CARA! EXCITED TO WALK IN THE CHANEL FASHION SHOW?”

Cara ignores the paparazzi and points out a dress in the window at Dolce and Gabbana. I request to go inside to try it on. I’m not sure where I’d wear it to, but that doesn’t really matter.

“Welcome ladies!” A woman in a black dress approaches. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

I point over to the dress in the window, “could I see that in a size six please?”

She leaves us to go find the dress for me and we roam around a small section while she does. My phone rings and I see Nicole’s name pop up. My heart immediately begins to race. She doesn’t call me unless absolutely necessary, usually we text. I step away toward the corner to be discreet.

I answer the call hesitantly. “Nicole? What’s up?”

“I got a call from Stephanie,” she sounds agitated on the other end.

Stephanie is my publicist, she handles everything that Nicole can’t basically. They bicker a lot since they’re both so headstrong and constantly need control. It’s the classic good cop/bad cop scenario, yet I don’t know who’s who. These two cover every aspect of my career, God bless them.

“Oh no, sounds bad,” I grumble anxiously.

“Depends how you look at it,” she lightens her tone.

“What is it?” I press.

“Well…” she hesitates.

“Nicole!” I drag out her name.

“It’s all over social media, magazines and it will be on TMZ tonight,” she stammers. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard if I’m being honest-”

“Nicole! What?” I rush her.

“An article about you and Colson Baker just dropped on some gossip sight,” she explains. “It says that you and Colson Baker are dating. Stephanie and I figured no one would believe it but it’s everywhere! They have videos and photos of you two leaving The Ivy plus talking by Sam’s car. If I didn’t know you, I would be convinced.”

My head hangs low as I rub my forehead, letting out a deep sigh. “Oh dear God.”

“We can handle it, don’t worry!” Nicole assures. “This story will be gone soon!”

“I need to go, talk to you later!” I hang up on Nicole right when the woman shows me the dress.

“I’ll take it” I attempt to hurry up the process.

Cara comes up next to me “don’t you think you should try it on first?”

“I’ll explain later but we need to go” I whisper to her and just like that, she’s hurry the woman along at the register.

I have the dress and exit the store in a rush. I must act cool, the paparazzi will take notice of my mood change.

“HOW’S COLSON, Y/N?”

“SEEING HIM TONIGHT?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

“HOW ARE GONNA HANDEL HIS FANS?”

“HAS HE MET THE FAMILY YET?”

“What’s going on?” Cara asks concerned.

“I’ll explain once we’re somewhere private,” I whisper so the cameras don’t pick up on it.

We speed walk to the car and I offer to drive since I made us cut the day short. Once we’re on the highway towards home Cara asks what the heck is going on.

“Why did they keep asking about Colson?”

I turn on the radio and Elvis Duran, along with his team, are discussing no other than me and Colson.

Danielle summarizes the article for the listeners. “The article says they’ve been dating for the past few months. They’re very happy but the relationship is still new. The pair has not yet met each other’s families but Colson is going on tour soon so maybe Y/N will join him and eventually meet the family. Throughout, there are tons of photos of the cute young couple leaving The Ivy Wednesday night. There’s even a link to a video showing them, what appears to be, having a deep conversation by Sam Merka’s car. If you watch the video, the two are clearly looking at each other very lovingly. I mean, he’s looking at her the way I look at a fresh pizza!”

The rest of the cast laughs and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Actually, scratch that, I can believe it. I’m just pissed.

“If MGK and Y/N are officially an item, why did she leave with Sam Merka?” Elvis questions.

“I’m glad you asked! According to sources, they’ve been very close friends since the start of TSL. In fact, the duo have taken many vacations together along with their co-star Penelope Glass.”

Cara turns down the volume and looks to me with a steady expression. “Is it true?”

I narrow my gaze at her in bewilderment. “What? No! There’s no way in hell!”

“Okay, just checking,” she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Never ever!” I add and change the station.

Colson Baker is everything I despise in a person. I’ve never hated someone so fast as I’ve hated him. Us together as a couple is impossible. It’s completely irrational.

_________________________________________________________

Later in the afternoon, Stephanie sets up a meeting for us to meet with Colson and his publicist. I had to drag myself to her office. My Fridays aren’t well spent in an office building with enemies. In fact, my whole day could be tarnished by this incident. The meeting room we’re all ushered into is freezing and I’m still in my sundress from earlier. Cara and I were never able to get lunch so I’m starving on top of being cold. The photos of us play in a slideshow on the meeting room’s tv. An endless cycle of false advertisement is how I see the photos. The media is selling us as something completely far from the truth. On top of everything, I’m in a meeting with the one guy in all of Los Angeles I can’t stand. Death would be less painful than the current situation. I tune out the debate between Stephanie and Colson’s publicist. He told me his name but my brain is so numb from the temperature in here I can’t recall it.

“Y/N!” Stephanie calls my name and I search for her around the room until I find her in the doorway with Colson’s publicist.

“We’re going to go make a few phone calls. You two will stay here while we handle the press.” I nod “sounds good.”

I send her a weak smile to charm her out of an apology for zoning out. She huffs and escorts Colson’s guy to her office so they can talk on speaker privately. I stand up from my office chair and stroll over to the windows overlooking the courtyard. I watch the cars zoom by on the street and businessmen and women shuffle in and out of the Starbucks below.

“If it means anything, I’m sorry,” Colson says quietly behind me.

I nearly miss it, he speaks so quietly. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I face him.

“You’re sorry?” I shrug, not really seeing his blame. “Why? It’s not your doing.”

I return my gaze to the chaos below us. I watch as people with office jobs travel about. I wonder if they’ve heard of me? I wonder if they like me or think I’m a stuck up actress? I shouldn’t care what people think, but it’s easier said than done. When millions watch TSL every week, it’s hard to ignore the wondering.

“If I hadn’t walked you to the car none of this would be happening,” Colson reasons guiltily.

I shake my head, finding humor in the situation now. The paparazzi can make nothing into a months long romance. A brief conversation outside a restaurant and suddenly we’re meeting each other’s families.

“We were only walking to a car. How could either of us have predicted the amount of attention that would come of us walking?” I justify, not to ease his mind, but my own.

My flicker over to the tv, I examine the slideshow of us. Examining the photos I realize it wasn’t all in my head, the way in which Colson was gazing at me is a tad bit gawk-like. Images of us walking to the car while I’m answering the paparazzi’s questions depict Colson glancing at me with what seems to be such admiration. A picture of when Cara calls for Colson comes up and I’m stunned by how we look. Even I appear to be in awe of him in return. It’s evident Cara is speaking yet neither of us react. We were so caught up within on another.

“I have one question!” I blurt out suddenly with my arms crossed I walk back over to the table. Just one and then I wish to put all of today’s events to rest.” Colson perks up and hums for me to continue. I point over to the photos on the screen “why did you look at me the way you did?”

Turning his head, he reviews the photos blankly and I wait anxiously for some sort of reason. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way,” he disregards my accusations.

I chuckle, amused by his horrible way of lying. “Lies!”

He’s thrown off by my reaction and I storm over to the TV screen to point it out to him.

“It’s clear as day to the press, the public and now me included. You’re clearly lost in some kind of thought! You were there, so was I and our friends! Say all the lies you want but you’ll never convince anyone.”

His jaw clenches and he avoids my gaze. He leans back in his chair, staring out the windows. “Colson,” I sigh, slowly approaching the table. “Maybe the truth could help the lies disappear! If we’re honest then maybe the press will leave us alone!”

He shakes his head low, letting out a brief laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

I have a thousand questions but I’m aware none will go answered. He’s a lost cause. I’m in this alone I guess. Turning my back to him I return to my position by the window. Observing the worker bees swarming around the spaces below. The sound of Colson’s chair rolling back comes from behind me but I don’t even shift. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his figure in the reflection of the window beside me. My attention remains outside. He won’t give me the time of day so why should I treat him any better?

“You wanna know why I looked at you the way I did?” His presence hovers of me and he feels like a wall surrounding me.

“Please,” I mutter a subtle beg.

 “I... I had this imagine of you in my head, pre-judgements. You’re supposed to be America’s Sweetheart, Little Miss Perfect! You told me you had been working for this for years, had drive and trails.” He confesses. “You’re not what I expected... It caught me by surprise is all.” 

My eyebrows furrow close, “So you thought I was just some pretty face, goody-two-shoes, ditz? If it’s because my image, my past, you said so yourself it doesn’t matter!” 

“No, no, that’s not it!” he runs his hand through his hair nervously.

Narrowing my eyes, I press further. “Why then?”

The door swings open and I straighten up before forcing a warm smile to my face. I step back from Colson before the person ever appears in the doorframe. One of Stephanie employees informs us that we’re free to go. Steph doesn’t want to keep me here all day and since I’m allowed to go Colson’s publicist is releasing him. I clasp my hand together, walking over to fetch my purse.

“Thank you so much!” I gush. “Have a good day and please tell Stephanie “thank you!””

The young intern eats up my pleasant expressions. “You too Miss Voss! Will do!”

The young woman shuts the door behind her and I return to the state I was in. Expressionless, I gather my belongings and Colson does the same. Checking my phone for any missed emails or calls I can tell he’s staring me down.

“Does it ever get tiring?” His tone is light, but I can hear the ounce of mockery beneath the surface.

My attention is locked on my phone as text after text pops up from Penelope. She’s more likely than not has seen all the articles and Twitter posts. I should call her and explain.

“Y/N!” Colson shout pulls my from my thoughts.

“Huh? Does it ever get tiring?” I restate his question back to him. “What exactly are we talking about?”

I slide my purse over my shoulder while stepping over to the door, leaving Colson behind. That is until he follows me.

“Your whole act.” He forces a fake smile and tosses imaginary hair over his shoulder. “The “happy go-lucky goody goody All-American girl?””

I scoff, eyeing him up and down. “You’re ridiculous. It’s not an act.”

I swing open the meeting room door, eager to leave here. My heels clink against the white shiny tiles on my walk to the elevators. After hitting the down button, I call up Blake now that I have some time to kill. She’s my oldest friend, I’m sure she sees right through all of the tabloids and is only checking in.

“Calling your boyfriend?” Colson mutters over my shoulder and I quickly move away.

“Don’t have one,” I answer plainly, waiting for Penelope to pick up.

He smirks and props himself up against the wall beside the elevator doors. I side eye him, all he does is smile all the time and he calls me out for acting so happy all the time.

“Can’t you find anyone else to annoy?”

He grins proudly, “sure I could. None would as entertaining as you though.”

“Geez,” I mumble under my breath.

I pace outside the elevators as I wait for one to arrive and for Penelope to answer. Classic of her to text me non-stop but not to answer when I call her back. The elevator doors open and I step inside, ready to get out of here. I hit the ground floor and Colson strolls in lazily not rushed at all. He checks the button and doesn’t add any. The doors shut then silence sits flat in the small space with us. My phone buzzes continuously, I check the name at the top of the screen.

“Frickin’ frackin’!” I clench my teeth together in a growl.

Colson’s eyes widen at my sudden explosion. Closing my eyes, I exhale to calm myself then bring the phone up to my ear. Smiling helps to fake enjoyment when talking to someone on the phone. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I’m not miserable during discussions.

“Finn!” I greet. “What’s new?”

My southern accent surfaces. I flip the switch whenever I speak to my family or friends back in South Carolina. I can’t have them thinking I’m not the same Y/N from Charleston. Colson eyes me with his eyebrows raised, surprised by my sudden transition. He makes fun of me in a whisper for my fake enthusiastic voice. I wack him on the arm and it only encourages him more.

“Hi ya Y/N, uh so ya prolly already know butcha face is everywhere along with this MGK fella...” Finn’s voice falters at the end.

I sigh and press my forehead to the wall. Finn asks me if any of what he has read is true and I instantly deny.

My tone goes timid, “who all knows?”

“Just us, Odelle, Greyson and Myself,” he assures.

A sense of relief rushes over me. I turn back around and Colson sends me a sympathetic look, it shocks me. Going from mockery to sympathy from him has my entire mood shifting.

“What ‘bout Momma or Daddy?” I ask, keeping eye contact with Colson.

“Nah, at least I don’t think they do,” Finn guesses. “I’m not entirely sure. Greyson is sayin’ they don’t. He’s the only one that’s home at the moment.”

“Heavens to Betsy,” I exhale deeply, looking up to the heavens. “Let’s hope to the high heavens they don’t. Thank you Finn.”

I go to hang up but he says one last thing. Bringing my phone back up to my ear I reply. “Sorry, missed that.”

My brother becomes stern on the other side, “do you and this guy spend tons of time together?”

I shift uncomfortably, preparing myself for the older brother advice I already see coming. “From time to time but I promise, we’re just friends.”

There’s a pause on his end, an unbearable pause. “I trust you Y/N,” Finn finally speaks. “It’s him I don’t trust. He’s not the best sort of guy. Ya’ll aint right for one another.”

I hope Colson can’t hear any of what Finn is saying. To keep him from becoming suspicious, I keep my replies indifferent. “Sure thing. Uh, talk ya later Finn.”

“Bye, talk to you soon.”

We hang up and I slip my phone into my purse.

Colson leans back onto the railing next to me. “Who was that?”

“My older brother, kinda overbearing,” I laugh nervously then bite my lip. My accent begins to subside again.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Colson remarks.

A faint smile appears across my lips thinking of my brothers. “I have two actually and an older sister. The order is Finn, Odelle, me then Greyson.”

Colson returns a kind and gentle smile. “That must’ve been nice to grow up with so many siblings.”

“It was.” I nod as memories flash across my mind. “Finn and Odelle were grouped together and so was me and Greyson since our age gaps are less.”

As we pass each level on the elevator there is a “ding.” Facing toward the doors again, I absentmindedly watch the numbers go down as we pass the levels. My mind wanders to the many memories I’ve made with my brothers and sister.

“Finn is about Sam’s age, so he likes to believe he’s almost a co-parent for me and Grey,” I describe with a pleased expression. “He’s the total opposite of Odelle.”

Colson genuinely shows interest, “how is she?”

“She’s a total wild card! We all joke that it’s every other kid. Finn and I are the rule followers. He was student body president, quarterback of the football team and still managed to graduate with honors. I’m nowhere near him on the perfect child spectrum but I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” My parents eat that up. Then there’s Odelle, she’s the total opposite of Finn. My parents had to beg her to improve her grades so she could graduate. I remember being twelve, it was the middle of the night when I got up to get a drink. I went downstairs and saw her sneaking out of the backdoor. She made me promise not to tell our parents. I haven’t talked about it until today. There were days she’d fake being sick just to ditch school with her friends. By her senior year nothing had changed. She ended up graduating but my parents forced her to go to a college close to home so they could keep an eye on her. Her antics continued the entire time I was in high school. College for her was a playground. For some reason, I envied her. I still do. I suppose it’s because no one expects anything from her. She messes up, well, that’s Odelle for you. She causes trouble, just another day. For me, my parents have me up on a peddle stool. By the time I turned sixteen people out here started taking notice of me. When I reached seventeen the title of “America’s Sweetheart” popped up and from then on, I was longer a teenager. I had a role to play and an image to uphold. I could never make mistakes like Odelle. I have to be “perfect” constantly. Sometimes I feel like a doll, plastic. None of it is real.”

The bell rings for the floor. I comprehend the words escaping my mouth and snap back to reality. I revealed so much about myself while I was in that daze, private facts about myself that I’ve never spoken of before.

Straightening up and adjust my dress, I apologize. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what came over me.” The doors slide open and I step out. “Good to see you Colson,” I rush out a farewell before speed walking towards the exit.

I mentally slap myself for all I confessed. If only Nicole found out, my head would be on a stick. My life, my background, every aspect of my being is supposed to be flawless. An All-American girl from South Carolina with a wholesome up brining is who I’m supposed to be. If word gets out that I’m not so perfect then… then I would be finished. My hand digs for my keys in my purse.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Colson jogs up next to me then steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Colson, please....” I practically plead in a mutter, stepping around him.

He wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “Let me buy you a drink!” 

Workers around us walk around in multiple directions like zombies. I wonder if they’re taking notice. Hesitant, I narrow my gaze at me. The reason we’re in this mess is because we were seen with one another.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I admit and release myself from his grip.

I only make it a few feet before he’s in front of me again.

“Fine, no to a drink! How about we go get some coffee? Or tea? If you prefer tea!”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his desperation is evident. The reason behind is desperation is still unknown to me, along with the reason he looked at me the way he did last night. Who is this mysterious man who stands before me? So many questions I wish to ask but I can’t get passed his eyes. Puddles of crystal blue settle on a white canvas. Confused beyond belief, for a reason unbeknownst to me, I accept. Could be my curiosity is getting the best of me.

“Coffee it is,” I give in to his request.

He grins ear to ear and steps to the side so we can leave side by side. “Unless of course you prefer we get tea!” he suggests, sounding a tad nervous.

Honestly I like both drinks but I prefer coffee. He holds the door for me and the bright sunlight of California weather strikes me.

“Nah, I normally drink a cold brew with a shot of espresso,” I describe.

He winces and pretends to gag. “Ew! That sounds horrible!”

“It gives you a boost in the morning! Nice and strong!” I laugh.

“You’re nasty!” He waves his hands in disgust.

“Eh, you’ve called me worse,” I laugh, unfazed by his insult.

He chuckles, “you’re not wrong.”

Our laughing dies down a little as we stroll over to the Starbucks. I peer up at him with a side eye. When our eyes meet we begin laughing again uncontrollably.

___________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @Thysagclub @hockeybabe87​ 

[darkshadow90]

His Obsession Chapter 15

A/N: Hey, guys. Here’s Chapter 15. Hopefully I can figure out how to post links to the previous chapters so if this is the first one you’re reading you can go read the other chapters. I’m not sure if any of you are seeing my posts, but I do appreciate the time you give to read these chapters 🙂

Chapter 15

Arthur sat in the car reflecting on what he had just done. It was the first time he committed a brutal assault without killing someone. He didn’t regret it. He knew he could’ve killed the boy if he wanted to. Arthur wanted to teach him a lesson, he knew a concussion, a few broken ribs, a broken leg, and possibly a collapsed lung would give the boy plenty to think about lest he entertain the unwise idea of stealing from kids again. Arthur was proud of himself. He thought about the power he felt. For once, he was giving a violent beating. He thought about all the times he had been a victim of violence. He thought about all the beatings he suffered, and how there was nothing he could do to stop them. But now that he had that kind of power over someone else, he was killing two birds with one stone. He was giving the boy a chance to learn his lesson and become a better person, and he was getting revenge on all of the people who hurt him. It was thrilling for Arthur to see someone else terrified, to see the boy shaking and crying as he braced himself for each strike. He remembered the boy crying out for his mother. When Arthur was the victim, he wasn’t given that privilege. It agitated him. That boy shouldn’t have been able to have something Arthur never had, so he hit the boy one last time. If the boy’s coughing was anything to go by, his lung collapsed. Arthur smiled. He realized now that he was the Joker no one would hurt him anymore, and if anyone was stupid enough to try to hurt him or anyone else, there would be hell to pay.

Sid noticed Arthur smiling. It unnerved him slightly. “Everything okay, boss?” “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” “Well...you haven’t said much since we left the hospital. I was worried something might be wrong.” “No. I’m fine, just doing some personal reflection.” Arthur took out a cigarette and began to smoke it. “Boss, do you want to start looking at hotels to see if we can find out where Ashe is staying?” Barry asked. “Why not? That’s what we were planning on doing anyway. I’ll stay in the car while you guys go inside and see if she’s staying there. We’ll keep looking until we find her. And even if she’s not staying in any of them, there’s only one place she would be. She’ll eventually have to go back anyway.” “Where’s that?” Arthur shook his head at Sid’s question. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Think about it. Where else would she be?” “You said she lived in the same building as you.” “Uh-huh.” “She would be in her apartment.” “You deserve a cookie. Too bad I don’t have one to give you,” Arthur said. “What should we do if we find her. Should we grab her right away?” “No. Not yet. She’s probably been through a lot. She’ll need time. I don’t want to be that quick about it. It would be too much for her. For now, we need to find her.”

Ashe and Sandy were about to leave to go pick up her medication when they heard a knock at the door. It was Gary. “Hey, Gary. Now isn’t the best time to hang out. I’m sorry.” “No worries. I can come back later. Who is this?” “I’m Sandy Beamont. I used to be a social worker for low income residents in Gotham. The detectives asked me to check on Ashe since she was having such a hard time at the hospital.” “We’re going to the pharmacy to pick up some medication. You came all this way. You can come with us if you want.” “Sure. I don’t have anywhere else to be.” As they were about to leave, the phone rang. Ashe picked it up. It was a call from the front desk informing her that all of her nights have been paid for and she needed to check out. “Okay...thank you.” She hung up. “What’s wrong?” “No, no, no. I can’t go back there. I can’t.” “What happened?” Gary asked, concerned. “It was the front desk. They told me I need to check out in the morning.” “I’m sorry, Ashe. Truly.” “You know what? It’s fine. I’ll just have to be more afraid Arthur will find me than I already am. I was at least safe here for awhile longer than I would be if I was in my apartment.” Sandy wanted to say something to help Ashe, but she thought it would only make her feel worse since she was already stressed. “Let’s go get the medicine.” Even though Ashe had two people with her, she still felt like she was being watched. The walk to the pharmacy felt like an eternity. She was constantly looking over her shoulder expecting to see Arthur. “Ashe, no one is following us. You safe, I promise you,” Sandy said. They finally made it to the pharmacy and went inside. “Hi, I’m Ashlyn Taylor. I’m here to pick up a prescription for anxiety medication.” The pharmacist gave her the bottle. “You can take one as you need to every few hours, but it’s preferable you take them at night before bed, as they will make you drowsy. You’re prescription is good for a few months. Come back here when you need a refill.” “Thanks.” They left and we’re getting ready to go back to the hotel. “I can’t go home. I don’t want to. That’s the first place Arthur will look.” “Ashe, love, I know this is hard for you. Believe me, I do. I haven’t had a good sleep since that day. But you can’t stay at the hotel forever. You have to go home eventually. Arthur is locked up in Arkham. He’s probably on one of the floors with a lot of security, one that only authorized personnel are allowed to be on. I highly doubt he’ll be getting out anytime soon.” “Maybe you’re right. Thanks, Gary.”

It had been several hours since they began checking hotels. Arthur told Barry and Sid to call it quits for the day, until they passed a hotel and he saw someone he recognized. “Wait! That’s her!” It was Ashe. “Stop the car. I’m getting out.” “But-“ “Now!” Arthur crept up to get a closer look. He saw that Ashe was with Gary and a woman he didn’t recognize. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. We’ll come by in the morning and help you get settled in your apartment,” the woman said. “Alright.” Ashe shook the woman’s hand and hugged Gary. It would have infuriated Arthur if she was hugging another man, but Gary was always nice to Arthur and he knew Gary would never try to take Ashe from him. So he was fine with her and Gary being friends. Arthur got back in the car. “We’re done for the day, boys. I know exactly where she’ll be. I think I can follow her on my own from now on. “You sure you don’t need our help?” “I appreciate you asking, Barry, but no. I need you to stick around and start setting things up. This could take awhile. I already have an idea of how things will play out. Tomorrow brings us one step closer together.”

[trashforhockeyguys]

Can’t Help But Love You -4- Kasperi Kapanen

A/N: As always, all previous parts are linked in my Masterlist. Two more parts to go and I’m super excited. It’s also about to get even cheesier, so yeah that's fun.

“Here,” William said, nudging you with a big bag of gummy bears.

 “You are potentially my favorite person, William Nylander,” You grinned, taking the bag from him.

 “Just save a few for me, okay?”

 “Not likely,” You grinned, “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

 “Had I known that bribing you with gummy bears would work, I would’ve done this a long time ago,” he laughed, walking away from you, “Just don’t disappear on me!”

 You turned and flipped him off before roaming further into the house. Auston had invited the team and a few other friends over for what he claimed would be a barbeque. However, you weren’t entirely sure what would come of the night.

 Patty’s kids were already running wild with Mitch just behind them. Every now and again you’d have to dodge them and try not to spill your drink, or drop your big bag of gummy bears. Willy had come to find you a few times, mainly to check in on you and take some gummy bears. 

 But in the end you found yourself sitting in the corner of Auston’s yard, soaking up what little sun you could. William was inside, socializing with a few of the guys and their girlfriends. Mitch was still playing around with Patty’s kids, while one of them was passed out in Steph’s lap.

 You’d caught a glimpse of Kappy when he’d walked in, a tiny bottle blonde was following just behind him. That’s when you decided you needed another beer. Somehow, you’d neglected to think about the fact that Kappy would no doubt be here and that he just might bring someone with him.

You’d almost begged William not to make you come, just so you wouldn’t have to see Kappy. Now you wished you had, just so you wouldn’t have to see the girl hanging all over him. That sight alone was enough to make you want to vomit.

 A small part of you wanted to be jealous, he was supposed to be your Kappy. Only, he wasn’t. He never really was your Kappy. You kept reminding yourself that he didn’t love you, chances were he never did. He used you. But nothing you told yourself made it hurt any less.

 There was a time before you and Kappy had been like this. There was a time when you were just friends. Long before the two of you had even explored the idea of feelings. Back then you’d watched every game that you could, you’d watched the girls flock to him, you’d even laughed at all of them. Back then the two of you would play video games, and joke around nonstop. You never had to fight the urge to do anything over the lines of friendship.

 You took another swig of your drink as you pulled out your phone. You wanted something to distract you while you waited for Willy to finally be ready to leave. You were slowly starting to realize that you didn’t belong here anymore. William was over talking with his teammates, doing just fine without you, while Kappy had his friend hanging all over him. You weren’t needed, no one even noticed you were hiding in the corner. Would anyone even notice if you just left? Called an Uber and went back home?

 You started to seriously consider it. You could run a bath when you got back and pour a big glass of wine, maybe watch a movie or two. Really anything you could to take your mind off of the sight of Kappy and his….whoever she was. You had no right to be jealous, you knew that.

 You’d forced him away, but only because that was all you knew to do. You couldn’t face the fact that he didn’t even know, and you couldn’t tell him. After that night, you promised yourself that you’d never tell Kappy how you felt. It didn’t matter what would happen, you wouldn’t tell him. You couldn’t. Nothing would make you feel more humiliated than him finding out. It was never part of the deal, you were never supposed to fall in love with him, that line was never meant to be crossed.

 “I don’t think you’re supposed to be hiding in the corner,” Patrick Marleau said as he sat next to you.

 “Hey Patty,” You replied.

 “So, why are you hiding from Kappy?”

 “I’m not hiding from him,” You lied.

 “And you didn’t actually run away from him last week either,” Patty countered.

 “Jesus, do they tell you everything?” You questioned, finally looking over at him. 

 “Comes with being the team dad,” He shrugged, “So what’s going on? I haven’t known you long Y/N, but I’ve never not seen you with Kappy.”

 You shrugged and tried not to look over to where he was, “Things just changed I guess.”

 “I don’t buy that,” He stated, “Not with the way he’s been talking about you. He misses you.”

 “I highly doubt that. He seems to be doing just fine,” You admitted, “Besides, he let me go easy enough.”

 Patty shook his head and laughed a little, “You two are clueless about each other.”

 “Actually Patty, I think Kappy and I are pretty clear where we stand,” You snorted.

 “See that’s what he said, only after he cried for a few minutes,” Patty admitted, “I’m not trying to pry, or start anything Y/N, you know I love both of you like my own. But why can’t either of you just admit that you love each other? Everyone can see it but you two.”

 Shock set in, along with the intense stabbing feeling that you couldn’t shake. He didn’t love you. He couldn’t love you. You had to keep telling yourself that, it made what you were doing hurt less, and yet it also made it hurt more in some ways.

 You locked eyes with Kappy for a second, one second where you almost began to regret pushing him away. Until his newfound girl got frustrated that he wasn’t paying attention to her. She latched onto him and tugged on the collar of his shirt so he’d lean down to kiss her. You could tell he was more than annoyed that she’d interrupted him once again, but he still went along with it. The way that she clung onto him made you sick. Didn’t she know that there were children around? Or didn’t he care that this wasn’t some club, but his best friend’s backyard?

 “That’s not how you tell someone you love them,” Even you could hear the pain in your voice, “That’s how you very clearly tell someone you’ve moved on.”

 “Y/N he just-”

 “Patty, I appreciate it, but don’t make excuses for him. We both made our choice,” You pushed yourself up from the ground, “I need to go find Willy and let him know I’m headed out.”

 You drank the rest of whatever Steph had fixed for you hours ago and started to make your way through the house. You did everything you could to avoid Kappy, but there wasn’t another entrance into the house, so you had to go right by him.

 What made it worse was that his friend, wouldn’t move out of the way, so you had to go around and push passed Kappy. Your arms brushed, you tried to keep walking but for a split second you felt his hand grab your wrist, but he seemed to quickly rethink his decision. You pulled your arm away from him and cradled it to your chest. You forced yourself not to look back as you moved further into the house.

 Part of you almost wanted Kappy to follow you. You didn’t want to fight, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But this was the longest that you’d ever gone without talking to him. Even before you both lived in the same city, you talked almost every day.

 “Hey! Where are you running off to?” Auston questioned.

 “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can stay,” Your eyes darted from Auston back over to Kappy, hoping he’d understand.

 “Fuck, I told him not to bring her,” Auston groaned, “but no, he had to act like a petty bitch.”

 Your lip started to wobble as you fought tears. It didn’t matter how many times you’d tell yourself that you weren’t going to cry, you always did. Most of the time though you could fight it until you got home, where you were alone and able to scream and throw things if needed.

 “Shit, c’mon,” Auston gently lead you down a hall and into a room, that you could only assume was his bedroom, “It’s okay. Really, he’s just being a dick.”

 “It’s not fair Auston,” You whimpered, “He’s the one that fucked all of this up, and yet I’m the one who has to pay for it.”

 He pulled you into his arms. Admittedly, you and Auston weren’t as close as you and Kappy, or you and Willy, but you knew that he’d still do anything for you. All of you were a strange sort of family, even if you were a little broken and messed up.

 “I don’t know what he did, but honestly I don’t care,” He told you, “You’re my family too, whether you like it or not.”

 “I shouldn’t be here Auston,” You told him, pulling away, “I don’t belong here.”

 “That’s bullshit,” he quickly said, “Did you not just hear me? You’re family, with or without Kappy.”

 “It doesn’t matter Auston, this is his team,” You explained, “I don’t want to mess with things for all of you. So I applicate it, and you, but I think I need to make myself scarce. I don’t want to fuck with his play, or the rest of the team.”

 “You won’t. Jesus the two of you are so difficult,” He groaned.

 You shrugged, “It’s probably because we’re too much alike.”

 “Yeah yeah,” he waved you off, “I know I won’t be able to talk you out of it, so just let Willy know before you take off. And please text me when you get back.”

 “Yeah I will.”

 “Y/N, I’m serious,” he warned.

 “Auston I said okay! Gosh, you don’t have to act like my mom,” You joked.

 “It’s because I love you dumbass,” he laughed, “You’re like another sister to me. So suck it up.”

 You laughed and hugged him again, instantly grateful for him. You’d underestimated Auston, he was normally the quiet one in the group, until he got a few drinks in him. But you’d never spent one on one time with him, due to the fact that you were always off with Willy and Kappy.

“Thank you Auston, really.”

 “If you want me to kick his ass, just say the word. The thing about us guys is, we can always work it out after, so long as we both get in a few good hits,” he half joked.

 You laughed and shoved his shoulder, knowing he was half serious. He dropped his arm around your shoulders and lead you back out to the living room. Kap was nowhere in sight, neither was his friend, but you knew they were still here. It was like you could feel it.

 You started laughing at something Auston said as the two of you made your way back. You didn’t have any trouble finding William, he hadn’t moved a foot. He was still talking with Freddie and Tyler Ennis.

 “Hey! Where’ve you been hiding?” Willy asked you.

 “Nowhere, I’m actually going to head out,” You admitted.

 “Of course you are,” he sighed, “When I get my hands on that stupid ass-”

 “Don’t worry about it Will. I’m just gonna lay low for a bit, let it all blow over,” You explained, “It’ll be fine.”

 “It’s not fair to you though,” Willy groaned.

 “I made my choices Will, and he made his,” You reminded him, “Now we both just have to figure out how to live with them.”

 He shook his head, “I’ll see you next week though, right?”

 “Lunch once a week, every week,” You reminded him, “Unless you have something better to do.”

 “Never, same time and place.”

 The months passed quickly. You went to a few games here and there, but you stopped hanging out in the box with everyone else. Instead you used your family friend’s seats, since they never went to games anymore. You didn’t go down to the tunnels to talk to the guys after the game either. Every now and again you’d go out with the group of all of the boys, but you and Kappy would avoid each other at all costs.

 It seemed like the lake house was a lifetime ago. Kappy moved on, someone new almost every time you saw him. Even you tried to move on, you’d been on a few dates here and there, but nothing seemed to feel right.

But you tried, and that seemed like the important thing. You were trying to move on with your life and figure out how it was going to work without Kappy in it. You and William got closer and closer, he was good about not talking about Kappy unless you brought him up. The same went for Auston.

 Although it still hurt, like a deep and painful ache in your chest, you were slowly getting better. You didn’t expect it to be Kappy every time your phone went off, nor did you expect it to be him at your door every time the bell rang. You didn’t look over your shoulder for him every time you heard your name. You weren’t afraid he’d see you when you went to games anymore. You were able to live your life again.

 Even if you still felt like you were missing a big piece of it.

 You hadn’t considered following the team on the road at all this season, but they were getting ready to go to New York to play the Islanders, which meant possibly getting to see Matt and Syd, who you missed more than you were willing to admit.

 Normally you wouldn’t even think of taking off extra time from work, but you had more than enough vacation time stored up, and an unused flight voucher from Christmas. You were itching to go, even though something in the back of your mind was telling you it was an awful idea.

 Yet, you couldn’t do anything to talk yourself out of it. Not as you booked the flights, and called Syd, and certainly not as you bought tickets to the one Broadway show you’d been dying to see. Not to mention this would be your only chance to see it before it closed on Broadway. You had to take the opportunity. Kappy be damned.

 “I brought food!” Willy announced, barging into your place.

 “Yeah sure, the door’s open, come on in William,” You mocked.

 “Get over it,” he joked, jumping on the couch next to you, “What’re you doing?”

 “Well, I just booked a flight to New York,” You told him,” You don’t think you could snag me some tickets to your game against the Islanders, do you?”

 “Wait, you’re coming to that?” You could hear the excitement without even having to look over at him.

 “Well I mean I have those plane tickets my mom gave me, and there’s a musical I want to go see before it closes on Broadway.”

 “Oh, is it that one you forced Auston and I to watch?” He questioned.

 “Yeah that one,” You laughed, “I just thought it be good, you know, get out of Toronto, see you guys play somewhere other than Scotiabank, I’d probably be one of the only ones in a leafs jersey but it’s okay.”

 “You’re really coming?” He questioned again.

 “Yes, I’m coming William,” You promised.

 “Well it’s about fucking time,” he laughed, “I missed having you follow us.”

 For a few minutes, you’d forgotten about Kappy. You did something without even really thinking about him, or what might happen as a result of your decision. You weren’t one for spur of the moment decisions, or doing things without planning. But this just felt right, almost like you were supposed to be doing this.

You began to scroll through Instagram. You managed to land on a picture of Kappy, with another girl hanging out in his lap. But for once, you didn’t feel the immense ache in your chest, or feel like you were going to be sick.

 You almost felt guilty. After all these years, you and Kappy were no longer. You never thought it would’ve come to this, yet looking back you didn’t see a way out of it. The two of you were like a candle, lit at both ends. Yet, even after all of it, you still couldn’t help but feel the slightest ping in your chest, you still couldn’t help but love him.

 “Yeah, I miss you guys too,” But even though you wouldn’t admit it, you missed Kappy above all. You’d always miss him.

[straycatsacademia]

Chapter 5: The Aftermath

Ao3 Link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815748/chapters/43002488#workskin

“Ranpo….Ranpo….RANPO!” Yosano shouted. Ranpo blinked, coming out of his daydream.

“What? Sheesh, you don’t need to yell,” Ranpo complained.

“Well maybe if you actually responded instead of thinking about your boyfriend all of the time, I wouldn’t have to,” Yosano retorted.

Ranpo blushed. “He’s not my boyfriend…” he muttered.

Yosano snorted. “Sure he isn’t. Speak of the devil, why don’t you go take his order, huh?”

Ranpo snapped his head up. “Poe is here?! Why didn’t you say so?” Smiling, he ran to the counter. Yosano rolled her eyes.

“Hi,” Ranpo smiled, slightly out of breath from running to the counter.

“Hey Ranpo,” Poe smiled back. “On break soon? I think we should talk about last night,” Poe blushed, looking at his feet. He looked uncomfortable to be talking about it, and Ranpo felt a knot in his stomach. Did he regret it?

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, his smile faltering a little. “I’ll bring your coffee to the table and we can talk then!”

Running to the back room, he called to Yosano. “Yosano! Poe wants to talk about what happened last night, what do I do?” Ranpo cried. “ What if I got attached for nothing? What if he thought I was too awkward, or too much? What if-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Yosano stopped him. “First of all, I highly doubt Poe for all of his awkwardness thinks you are too awkward for him. Plus, he definitely likes you, why would you think what he wants to talk about is bad?” Now go out there and tell him how you feel!” Yosano pushed him out of the back room and slammed the door in Ranpo’s face.

Gulping, Ranpo grabs Poe’s drink and sits down across from him. They sit in silence for a few minutes, before Poe clears his throat.

“So, I thought about last night,” Poe started, and Ranpo’s breath hitched.

“I know I’m not… the ideal boyfriend,” Poe whispered. “I know that you’re really smart and funny and talented and I’m socially awkward and quiet, so if you don’t want to date me, I understand. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t agree to last night being a date because you felt like you had to,” Poe finished quietly, looking into his lap.

Ranpo stared at him, his mouth hanging open. All of this time, POE didn’t think he was good enough for HIM? He wanted to laugh about how stupid that was, but he didn’t want to hurt Poe’s feelings. Gathering his courage, he grabbed Poe’s hands and held them in his own.

“Poe, you’re the best person I’ve ever met, and I’ve never connected with anyone like I have with you. I know that I’m loud and annoying and arrogant, and if anything, I should be asking if you want to deal with me. I like you, and you like me, so we should be together, right?” Ranpo smiled.

Poe smiled back and nodded, looking visibly relieved.

“Good, because there’s a festival on Friday, and I would like to go with you… as your boyfriend,” Ranpo blushed.

Poe blushed and smiled as bright as Ranpo had ever seen. “I’d love that,” he whispered, squeezing Ranpo’s hand.

Soon enough, Ranpo’s shift was over, and he went back to work. Yosano smiled at him, and he smiled back.

Slowly the days went by, until finally, it was Friday. Ranpo was currently waiting on his steps waiting for Poe to pick him up, a million thoughts running through his head. Would they kiss tonight? Would he even be good at kissing? What if Poe wanted more? He blushed at that thought, but he knew Poe would respect his boundaries. Poe pulled up, and got out of the car to open Ranpo’s door for him.

“Wow, you look really good,” Ranpo smiled. Poe blushed.

“Thanks. So do you,” Poe said, shutting Ranpo’s door as he got in. As soon as they got to the festival, Poe intertwined their hands, and Ranpo smiled.

At the festival, they walked around, laughing and trying new food. At one point, Ranpo put food directly into Poe’s mouth, laughing as Poe blushed. After a while, they decided to get a spot to see the fireworks. Laying down, Ranpo put his head on Poe’s chest.

“I’m really glad you came into our coffee shop,” Ranpo whispered.

“Me too,” Poe whispered back.

Sooner than they would have liked, the fireworks ended, and it was time to go home. Being the gentleman he was, Poe walked Ranpo to his door again.

This time though, when he leaned down to give Ranpo a kiss on the cheek, Ranpo turned and kissed him on the lips. They kissed for a few seconds before Ranpo pulled back blushing.

“Good night, Poe. I’ll see you tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that,” Ranpo continued.

Poe laughed. “Good night Ranpo, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled.

And he did. And the day after that, and the day after that.

[rose-wine-selfships]

Hello, may I request a male character (to be matched with) for a romantic ship for Ouran , please & thank you. Here is the link to the tumblr blog with my personality description, I hope it works . LINK - The first part is shortintrovertships(.) tumblr(.) (com) (without the parentheses). You can take as much time as you need to and if I forgot anything else, just let me know.

Hello, and omg you sound like such a sweetheart! By the way, I wanted to add a little surprise secondary romantic match-up along with your answer just in case you didn’t like the original one. Now without further ado, I’d match you up with...*dramatic drumroll*

Kyoya Ootori!

Now hear me out, I know you probably don’t think this would be a likely match. However, it will actually work out in the long term because the both of you are equal parts similar and not so similar in personality. For example, you have a very curious and intellectual side to you. You also have a very playful and youthful energy in your mannerisms at times. Given the fact you have that element to your personality Kyoya would be drawn to you like a moth to a flame, and will probe you for more interesting discussions along the way. 

He doesn’t mind that you are inexperienced in a relationship since he’s A-OK with being a little more dominant than usual. He’s a bit distant at first, but if you keep making the effort to know him he will open up to you like he did to Tamaki and the other hosts. He likes that you aren’t so loud and flamboyant (like a certain blonde haired ditz king), and that have some mysterious qualities like him. He will also learn to appreciate your soft and highly sensitive side, and likes how you’ll listen to him when he’s having trouble with his family. He’ll also give the time to listen to you when you have your problems while giving blunt yet useful advice.

 He’s secretly a family man at heart, and he does everything he can to support his family including his older sister and brothers. When it comes to your anxiety, he’ll definitely be there to hold you close to him even though he probably doesn’t know any comforting words yet. However, he will find the time to look up how to comfort you and calm you down during your anxiety attacks. He’s actually a super loyal sweetie at heart (though he’s too proud/stubborn to admit it).

When it comes to your hobbies, he’ll definitely appreciate an open-minded approach to learning something new. Since you have so many hobbies, it’s definitely an intriguing thing to Kyoya, and he’d love to spend hours with you doing whatever you wanted. But he’d also be equal parts willing to sleep in with you during the lazy afternoons and lounging together just because. And maybe something a little more. *wink wink*

For you, you’ll definitely learn to appreciate his more direct, strong-minded and quietly confident personality in the relationship. He’ll also be there to protect you in every way possible. Believe me he’ll personally, financially, and socially wreck any b*tch who dares to make your life miserable. When you have doubts he’ll make the decisions, but not without at least talking to you first. The both of you will definitely be balanced out personality wise. He’ll learn to be more softer, kind, and considerate. While you learn how to be more strong and confident in your decision making. Overall, it’s a pretty strong match in my opinion. 

Another potential romantic match: Takashi Morinozuka (Mori senpai)

He’s another strong and silent type of guy that will definitely protect you from anyone who tries to hurt you. He loves your secretly bubbly and childish side since it reminds him of his cousin Honey senpai too! He would not mind cooking and watching Korean dramas with you any day of the week. He’s a little shy and quiet, but not in a mean way either. He appreciates your intelligence and it balances out well with his quietly sensitive side in the relationship. I can pretty much imagine you guys eating a bunch of baked sweets together and with Honey when he hangs out with you too! 

Hope you liked your match-up!- The Pink Prophet 💜💙🌹✨

[thisolddag]

Is 11 the New 13?

Newsflash. It’s not. 

Last night, my sons went to an old-fashioned baseball game at the local college. They went with a group of eight kids, ranging from ages seven to eleven, chaperoned by their awesome principal. I allowed my older son to take his new iPhone - which he’d had gotten the day before - with the explicit instructions that he was not to take it out of his pocket unless he felt it vibrating - I might text him to make sure all was well. That’s what we got it for anyway - aside for his terrific grades and his ‘graduating’ from elementary school - it was for communicating with us as we loosen the reins. He happily agreed to my baseball game rule. My son knows how I feel about the iPhone. He knows it’s to be used as a tool to help him become more independent in the real world and not as a way to immerse and isolate himself in a cyber one. “We will use it for good.” Researching school projects? Playing fun games as a way to unwind? FaceTimeing with Daddy or with family out-of-state? Taking cool photos to chronicle memories? Check, check, check. But it will not be used to suck time, or to comment on strangers’ comments, or to post said pics. Most importantly, social media will be off limits.

He got it. 

Maybe he got it because I left no room for negotiation. 

Our home computer is linked to his new iPhone. I was on it, writing, while he was at the game, when I noticed a slew of texts coming in from the fifth grade class thread he’s on. Just silly, dumb tweeny messages that a few boys were sending on a Thursday night. After a while I noticed my son joined in, with a single reply. “At a Jackal’s game.” I frowned. I told myself he must’ve felt the phone buzzing and checked to see if it was me. Fine. That was all fine. And then I noticed the immediate response from one of his friends. “The Jackals suck!”

 And then the texts kept coming. 

“Boring!” “That field is trash!”  “BORING BORING BORING”

With each incoming text, my stomach dropped. What was this? This instinct to knock something down so fast? Was it innocent ‘trash-talk’? Or was I looking at future trolls in the making? 

I’m proud to say that my son did not further engage - aside from sending a short video and a pic of him and the team mascot, as he was leaving the ballpark. Which we later discussed - how he could’ve sent that photo when he got home. How he should have sent it then. How we aren’t gonna start bending the rules so early on in the game. How you have to be in the experience as it’s happening & not worry about posting the experience. Etc etc. But for the most part, he had passed his first test. The test to resist.

HERE’S THE DEAL

Unlike dabbling in drugs, drinking, smoking, sex, or any other urges teenagers are drawn to, which have been around for ages - social media is a whole new thing we have to contend with as parents. There is no hindsight or personal experience to fall back on. And we have no idea how it will affect our young children. 

I got my first BlackBerry at the tender age of 30. There are days when, as a 40-year-old, all the Internet chatter, all the Instagram comments, the Twitter feed vitriol, get to me, trip me up, make me doubt myself, and fill me with frustration and anger. I can’t imagine being so young and having to deal with all that. During childhood, the extent of my social life was delegated to whispery phone calls in my room until my father shouted for me to hang up. Or hanging out with a bunch of friends outside my apartment building, until my mother yelled through the window for me to get my butt home. My burgeoning confidence had nothing to do with the amount of “followers” I had, or how many “likes” I received. And the bullies in my life had to insult me to my face and were not allowed the luxury of doing it anonymously from the comfort of their little device.

I’ve heard parents say - in our quaint, progressive town - that they can’t keep up, that it’s kids these days, that it’s just the way it is. I don’t buy it. We have to be as invested as we say we are - especially when it comes to this stuff. How can we be supportive, even coddling, how can we be round-the-clock cheerleaders and advocates for our children’s well-being - and not bother to check their text history, or their google searches, and not bother to put restrictions on their devices? Not doing so sends a dangerous mixed-message. I will fold your laundry, and help you with your homework and buy you clothes you want, and get you anything you need because you are still small and innocent - but when you’re on that phone, you’re on your own. 

WHAT IS THAT?

I tell my son - perhaps you’ve earned the right to have a device, but earning the right to have privacy is a whole other deal. He knows I go through his phone every day, and he has no problems with it. I am not taking away anything from him by being privy to his online goings-on. In fact, I am keeping him safe. He has to earn my trust, and he has to keep earning it. 

Do chores, be a good example for your younger brother, be kind, be accepting of others, study hard, show respect, read, don’t be afraid to ask questions, be confident in your passions and your convictions, know how to say no, know how to go without, how to wait - and then we can talk about private accounts. But only when you’re thirteen. :)

I highly doubt that the parents who allow their ten or eleven year old child unfettered access to the Internet, would allow them to smoke pot, watch porn, have a beer or go on an unchaperoned date, or even walk to town without a phone in their pocket. The smart phone in our child’s hand holds the whole world. And at 10, 11, 12 - our children are not ready for the whole world. They’re simply not. Until our children are old enough to navigate the real world, they must be supervised when in the cyber one. 

I am not afraid to say no. I am not afraid to say because I said so. Sometimes that’s all you get when you’re 11 and you’re still trying to figure out who you are, how you’re perceived, what impact you have, or when you cry because you lose a game of Clash of Clans. And it’s ok if you cry. You’re still learning how to articulate your feelings, learning how to deal with being a kid. And we talk. We talk all the time, about many things I would not have dreamed of talking about with my parents at this age. But he knows I am there for him - I will try to answer any questions he has, as age-appropriately and as honestly as I can. There’s a certain innocence that I’m trying to nurture here. My son is a sweet boy at heart and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible. But that means there’s a job I have to do. Because it is a job - a duty, as much as it is a right - to raise my son to be a decent human being. With or without a phone in his pocket.

This morning, as I was working up an emotional sweat relaying the baseball game anecdote to my friend, she turned to me with a kind smile and said “It’s only day three…Pace yourself, Dag.” She’s right. In the fall comes middle school and who knows what middle school will bring to the table. It’s like saying I’m a good driver - but there are other drivers on the road. A crash can happen, even when you’re doing everything you should be. That’s life.

Parenting is taking a leap of faith every single day. The rules we set forth and the boundaries we place on our children are done so in the hopes that its’ all for their good. That one day they’ll understand the thought process behind our reasoning. Until that day comes, I’m prepared to put up a fight. I will fight for the right to protect my child while allowing him certain responsibilities and rewards that will carve the road toward his independence.

 It’s a delicate dance, and a complicated one, and I’m sure there will be days where I will epically fall flat on my ass. But I will get up, and dust myself off, and keep at it. For my own sake. And most especially, for his.

[my-one-love-is-music]

It Takes Two ch. 5

Super psyched for this chapter!!!

Enjoy!

<3 MOLIM

Also on AO3!

Tim yawned as his alarm blared in his ear. He flung his hand around to turn it off and smacked the table. He hit the edge of his phone and launched it into his face because that was his life.

“Son of a bitch!” Tim gasped, clutching at his nose. His alarm was still screaming at him from where it landed on his pillow. He flailed around in bed as the pain slowly faded and the sound of his ringtone drowned out his alarm.

He reached for it and answered without looking at the caller ID.

“Hewwo?” he asked, voiced muffled by his hands.

“What the hell are you doing this early in the morning? I didn’t ask for a wakeup call! Damn, what did you do?” Jason spat over the phone.

“I di-in’t dowit on purpose!” he objected. “M’ phone ‘it me in the face.”

“Well can you not do that? And what’s wrong with your voice?”

“Shut it!” Tim hissed, taking his hands from his nose. He sat up and picked up his phone. “And I told you, I didn’t do it on purpose. I was just trying to turn off my alarm not launch a cellular attack on my nose.”

“Well it’s too early! Why are you up so early and not sleeping?!” he asked.

Tim rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I need to do more research on Robert Anderson. We’re not just going to magically track him down. There is still work involved. Or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten. But you could’ve slept in a little longer. At least until you’re not in danger of hurting yourself by turning off your alarm.”

“It’s too late, I’m already awake and now I need to fill my veins with coffee. You can go back to sleep all you like, but I have work to do.” He shuffled out of the bedroom and toward his kitchen.

“You’re going to kill yourself doing this one day,” Jason grumbled. “And it’s too late. You’ve woken me up past the point of going back to sleep.”

Tim snorted as he started the coffee pot. “I highly doubt that. I’m sure you have impeccable napping abilities and will be able to pass out again as soon as you hang up.”

“That may be true, but who knows what other trouble you’re going to get in now that you’re awake? I’d rather not get woken up as rudely as I just was.”

“If I promise not to intentionally hurt myself will that put you at ease?”

“Nope!” Jason answered cheerfully.

“Why not?”

“Because you end up doing lots of things even if you don’t do them on purpose. I’m surprised you haven’t been locked in a padded room for your own safety yet. I for sure would’ve thought that Dick would’ve attempted that at some point.”

“Who says they haven’t tried?” Tim asked, grinning.

“Wait…have they really? Wait…do I even want to know the answer to that?”

“I don’t know? Do you?” Tim pulled down a clean mug and threw in a spoonful of sugar and splash of creamer as the pot finished.

“I’m not sure if I’d like the answer or not,” Jason mused.

“You probably wouldn’t,” Tim said, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing happily. Now he could really get to work. The caffeine hadn’t kicked in yet, but the fact that he knew it was coming was going to make everything easier. He sat down on his couch and powered up his laptop, setting his coffee on one side of his computer and he put his phone on speaker before setting it on the other side.

“You’re about to start ignoring me in favor of working, aren’t you?” Jason asked.

“Now what makes you think that?” Tim asked innocently.

“Because I can hear the sounds of you tapping away on your computer and that means your research has begun.” He sighed and it crackled through the speaker. “Have fun looking up information about our new favorite person. Let me know what you find. And don’t try to hurt yourself. I’d rather limit the amount of rude awakenings I have to deal with from you.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t speak too soon.”

“Speak too soon? I haven’t once accidentally hurt myself since we’ve had this link!”

“Yes, well…” Tim grumbled because he couldn’t very well argue Jason’s point.

Jason snickered. “I’ll let you get back to this all important research that you’re quickly going to become obsessed with. Text me if you find anything. And don’t hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim muttered, ending the call before Jason could say anything else.

He pulled up the website for the new hospital that had been built when the old one was shut down. He hacked into the system quickly, finding few safeguards this time around. It looked like they didn’t expect many people to come looking through their records, but common criminals usually didn’t spend time hacking into hospital databases. And those who wanted to actually get into the hospitals did so for other reasons and didn’t waste time when they could just go in with a gun and get their way.

Tim pulled up the employee records, bypassing the added level of security put in front of them and got in easily. Unlike his experience with the last hospital, there was nothing hidden in the interface that was trying to hack him back to get his location and personal information. Not that Tim was going to let them get in that easily even if they did.

“So they obviously didn’t transfer the program to this new place,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

It made sense since it was deemed a failure at the last hospital. The people who had funded it probably didn’t want to experience a similar scandal or didn’t want to have to deal with the level of secrecy around the patients that they’d had to set up before. It would’ve been more risky operating in the new hospital with the size of it and the influx of patients and employees that were brought in. More questions would’ve been asked. There would’ve been a bigger chance of someone stumbling into something that they weren’t supposed to know anything about and leaking confidential information if they couldn’t be stopped.

Tim scrolled through the employee records, quickly scanning the names and already suspecting what he would find there. Or what he wouldn’t find there. Rather than having to scroll through each employee name, he was able to search through the entirety of the records. He typed in ‘Robert Anderson’ and wasn’t surprised when nothing came back on him.

He leaned back against the couch to give himself a minute to think. He hadn’t known if Anderson had actually made the transfer to the new hospital when he’d started gathering information. That had merely been an assumption on his part. One that seemed foolish at that point with everything else that they’d learned.

Tim opened the file that he’d saved of the records from the original hospital. He scrolled through them, but still couldn’t find his file even with the new name.

“What the fuck?” he growled. He was sorely tempted to throw his computer across the room. And then he was horrified that he’d even allowed himself to have that thought.

“Okay, okay,” Tim said, trying to calm himself down. “So his file isn’t listed in the hospital records. I can work around that, no big deal. I just have to get a little more creative which shouldn’t be a problem because I’m fucking Tim Drake and I can do whatever the hell I want because no firewall can stop me and now I sound like a complete idiot talking to myself. Jesus, what is going on with me?!”

He ran a hand through his hair roughly. “At least I can content myself with the fact that there’s no one here to witness this… That would just be embarrassing. Jason would probably never let this one go. It would just give him more of a basis for why I should be locked in a padded room and never let out.”

Tim drummed his fingers on the tabletop and sighed. “I guess the least I can do is start with a generic search for this guy. Maybe I’ll get lucky and actually stumble upon something without having to do much legwork.”

He opened a new tab and pulled up a search engine before quickly typing in Anderson’s name. The results were a little slow to load and Tim took the chance to get up from his spot and refill his mug with more coffee. When he sat back down, he took a sip and started scrolling through the results.

Several Facebook pages had been brought up, along with Twitter profiles and LinkedIn pages. There was even a news article, but it was a recent post about some high school athlete that was definitely not relevant to what he was looking for unless their scientist had somehow managed to de-age himself or really was some sort of young genius with a penchant for crime. But he doubted that since he would’ve had to deal with the parents of the patients and that would raise more questions on their part.

Tim slowly sifted through the social media profiles and was nearly ready to give up before he delved too deep. Where white vans were the bane of every detective’s existence on the street, generic social media profiles were the bane of every detective’s existence when working to find someone online. He didn’t know how those people on Catfish did it. Well he did, but they had something more to go on. He’d like to see them try and track down some weird evil scientist on the internet.

Tim stared at the third Twitter page on his screen, not really seeing it as his mind worked. He was trying to decide whether or not the guy they were looking for would be honest, or somewhat honest, about his profession online. And if he would even have a social media profile. Him and Jason knew next to nothing about their guy and had no tells on any of his habits. They didn’t even know if he was married or if he had kids.

He was really regretting not grilling Elena more about Anderson. Although, due to the level of secrecy that they were all operating under, she probably wouldn’t have any of the answers that they were looking for and they didn’t exactly have it narrowed down to a few people where they could justify having her go through photos with her to try and ID him.

Tim grabbed his phone from the table while he used his other hand to navigate to the DMV website. He sent a quick text to Jason before he started to bypass their system again to search for any driving records that might exist.

Tim: I’ve got nothing concrete on Anderson. There was no employee file from the hospital and there are too many social media profiles to even narrow it down and that’s assuming he made one in some form or fashion.

He searched for the good ol’ doctor in the system and wasn’t surprised by how many names popped up. He didn’t think he’d ever understand the popularity of the name. Especially in Gotham. Why couldn’t they get lucky for once and have to look for someone who has a totally unique name? That wasn’t an alias anyway.

Tim exited out of the DMV website with a shake of his head. His phone vibrated and he checked the reply that Jason sent.

Jason: Of course that’s just our luck. Why can’t these guys be easy to track for once????

Tim: You took the words right out of my mouth.

Jason: Whatever. I can ask around on the streets tonight after I take down this gang that’s been making trouble.

Tim: Need any backup?

Jason: Nah, I’ve dealt with these guys before and as soon as the blood starts flowing and bones start breaking, they turn tail and run. Shouldn’t be a big deal.

Tim: Got it.

Tim: That sounds like some parody of Smash Mouth. ‘Well the blood starts flowing and the bones start breaking…’

Jason: I’m not sure that I will ever understand you…

Tim: Whatever.

He set his phone to the side and closed out of all of his files. There wasn’t much more that he’d be able to do until they had some info on where to find Anderson. And they still needed to shut down the trafficking ring that he was involved in. And he definitely wasn’t about to find anything about that on the internet. It looked like him and Jason were in for a lot of footwork on patrol.

~~

“Red Robin.”

Tim paused before retracting the cable for his grapple gun. He turned to face Bruce who was standing on the rooftop, hidden in shadow as was his practice.

“Batman,” he said, nodding before putting his grapple back in his belt. “Is there something that you need?”

“Have you managed to shut down that trafficking ring yet?”

“Red Hood and I are working on it. We’re both going to see what anyone on the streets might know about it, but tracking them down again might take a while since they know that we’re watching. We’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

He nodded. “Try and get that cleared up as quickly as possible.”

“We will. It shouldn’t take too long-“ Tim gasped and clutched his side when the most intense pain crashed through him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through what felt like was his side being ripped open.

“Red Robin!” Bruce exclaimed, hurrying over to grab onto his shoulder. “Red Robin, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Tim opened and closed his mouth, trying to get the words out. He knew something had happened to Jason. He just didn’t know what. He had to find him. He had to make sure that he was okay and that he wasn’t bleeding out in some alleyway because if what he was feeling was anything to go by, then Jason was probably experiencing something so much worse.

“I…he…” he gasped.

“Who? Who did this? Red Robin?”

A second wave of pain crashed over him. His body felt like it was being crushed under a building. Tim clutched his head as he fell to his knees, despite Bruce’s efforts to keep him on his feet. His vision wavered and he was worried that he was going to pass out, but he knew that he had to find Jason first. He had to make sure that he wasn’t hurt too badly and that he was alive.

He tried to open his mouth again to speak and explain the situation but as soon as he did, he felt bile rise up in his throat and he just barely managed to turn his body away in time to keep from vomiting all over Bruce’s boots.

“We need to get you back to the Cave,” Bruce said urgently. He tried pulling Tim to his feet but he just shook his head.

“No,” he gasped. The pain wasn’t subsiding and he wasn’t quite ready to admit that that worried him. A lot.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I have to find him.”

“Find who?”

“Jason,” he said, swallowing around another wave of nausea. “He’s in trouble. I have to find him. He might be dying. He might already be dead.”

“Names, Red Robin. How do you know he’s in trouble?” Bruce asked.

“Later. I need to find him first. He’s in trouble,” he said again.

Bruce brought up a hand to his cowl and Tim had to close his eyes to take steady breaths. If he was in this much pain, then he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of shape Jason was in.

“Nightwing go find Red Hood. Red Robin and I have reason to believe that he’s in trouble. When you find him, bring him to the Cave. Red Robin will be there waiting for him.”

Tim shook his head. He knew that he couldn’t go and wait in the Cave. He had to find Jason. He couldn’t leave him alone.

“Let’s go, Red Robin. We need to get you to the Cave and have you looked over.”

Tim shook his head again. He needed to stand up, but his body felt so heavy. He didn’t know how he was going to move. “I have to go to him.”

“Nightwing is with him. He’s going to bring him to the Cave and you need to go, too.”

“No,” Tim said and struggled to his feet. His legs were shaky, but managed to hold after a minute. It was going to be slow going, but he knew that he could make it to Jason. He just needed to move. He took deep breaths as he stepped forward and straightened. The world moved beneath him and he felt himself fall, unable to do anything more than close his eyes and wait for the impact to come.

~~

Tim felt himself slowly come to. He fought against the darkness and the fatigue. As awareness came back, he noticed how heavy his limbs felt. He’d never quite understood what people meant when they said they felt like they’d gotten hit by a bus, but he couldn’t think of a more apt description in that moment. He brought a hand up to clutch at his head when a throb went through it.

He blinked his eyes open and was met with impossibly bright lights and it took him a few seconds to get his vision to clear. When he did he found himself staring up at the ceiling of the Cave. He didn’t remember coming back there. He’d been talking to Bruce on patrol when-

Tim gasped and sat up, having to close his eyes as his vision swam from the sudden movement. He didn’t think that he should be feeling such intense side effects when he hadn’t been hurt, but they still didn’t know a great deal about how the connection worked. When it cleared he looked down and made to pull out the IV in his arm when a pair of hands stopped his actions.

“Woah, Tim! Calm down, little bro.”

He looked up and found Dick standing over me. He shook his head and made to pull it out again, but Dick stopped him. “I have to find Jason. He’s in trouble. He-“

“Tim, calm down. Jason’s fine. Well…he will be anyway. He was in pretty bad shape when I found him, but Alfred worked his magic and after a bit of time recuperating, he’ll be good as knew.”

Tim pulled against where Dick was still holding onto his hands. “Where is he? I have to see him! I have to…”

Dick’s smile had him trailing off in the middle of his sentence. “If you’ll look to your right, you’ll see he’s right there.”

He looked to the side and found Jason looking peaceful and asleep. The machines around him beeped and his chest rose softly with each breath. He could make out some scratches across his face, but couldn’t see much else with the hospital gown and blanket covering him.

Tim felt himself sag with relief at the sight, his fatigue making itself more apparent now that he wasn’t stressed. Jason was alive. As worried as he’d been the night before, he was going to be okay. They were both going to be okay.

Sensing that he wasn’t going to put up much of a fight anymore, Dick released his hands and stood back.

“He was unresponsive when I found him, but alive. If he’d been left alone too long he probably would’ve ended up dead. I’m surprised you knew that he was in trouble. I don’t think anyone would’ve known that something was wrong for a long time.”

Tim flushed and clutched at the blanket that was covering his legs. “Well, that’s…you see…I…”

“Yes, I would also like to know how exactly it was that you knew Jason was in trouble.”

Tim swallowed and looked up as Bruce walked over to him. He’d changed out of his uniform and Tim wondered how long he’d been out and how late in the morning it was for them all to be back at the Manor.

“Look, I don’t really know how to explain it. I guess I just had this hunch that something was wrong and that we needed to find him to make sure that he was okay...” Tim trailed off at the unimpressed look that Bruce was giving him and he cleared his throat before glancing away.

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” Bruce asked and crossed his arms. “Especially with how you reacted?”

“I…” Tim was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to explain it without telling them what had happened.

“Tim…”

His head whipped around at the sound of that familiar voice, even if it was a bit gravelly and tired. He looked at Jason’s tired eyes that were now open and looking at him.

“Babybird, I think it’s time that we come clean.”

Tim sighed and closed his eyes before nodding. “Okay.”

He turned back to look at Bruce and Dick. Bruce looked rather serious, not that that was any surprise. He was pretty much always serious and Dick had narrowed his eyes like he suspected something. Tim wasn’t sure if he was ready to know just what was going through his mind.

“There’s something that we have to tell you.”

[steampoweredstrawberry]

Under the Wings of the Hawke Ch: 10

Fandom: Dragon Age II

Pairing: FHanders

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Link

Warnings:

Alcohol consumption

**Author's Note** Just as a clarification, Fenris is introduced in this chapter and he and Anders don't get along. I'm planning on steering them into a friendship direction, but until I get to that point, chapters from Anders' perspective will be Fenris-critical. I personally like Fenris very much, and the way I am writing his and Anders' relationship until they become friends is not my own personal reflection on him as a character.

Thank you.

There Anders was once again for his bi-weekly appointment. Wynne, as always, sat opposite of him in her armchair, hair pulled up and a pad of paper resting on her knee. And, as always, he felt like a child about to be scolded for being naughty, even if Wynne had never scolded him, and promised never to. Even so, he sat on the couch with a rigid back and hands folded between his knees, expecting it.

The session had been fairly routine as always. She asked him about how the medication was helping, if he was having intrusive thoughts, ways to deal with those thoughts and impulses outside of medication. The usual. He had considered lying to her about the recent bout of intrusive thoughts. About how he was deep in blaming himself for Karl once again and lacked the energy to do much of anything except browse the internet for hours, either hunting down bizarre conspiracy theories or watching cat videos. Work had been difficult, but he and Pounce needed to eat. Even if his idea of ‘eating’ over the last week had been a handful of cereal here and there, or partially heated leftover take out.

He and Wynne agreed that perhaps he needed his dosage reassessed. She signed Anders another referral for the psychiatrist in the hopes that either an increased dosage or different medication would help. The slip of paper was already crammed in his back pocket.

“Is there anything else you would like to discuss, Anders?” Asked Wynne, the warmth in her voice was unmistakable. And, despite what he was going through, Anders knew that she was a trustworthy sort.

“I...uh…I made a new friend, I guess.” Anders said, forcing a weak smile for her benefit. “She’s that woman I told you about a couple of sessions ago. The dominatrix—Claudia. We text, and sometimes talk on the phone, and we’ve hung out a couple of times. She invited me to hang out with her and some of her other friends tonight.” He paused, tracing his jaw with his fingertips. The idea filled his stomach with butterflies, but not the good kind. He had considered at least half a dozen excuses he could use to get out of going. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that Claudia would be disappointed in him and not want to talk to him anymore. “I’m considering not going, though she will probably be mad at me for ditching.”

Wynne scribbled something down on her note pad. “If you don’t feel like you can attend, there is nothing wrong with telling this woman that you won’t be able to make it. If you’re worried about her asking why, you can just tell her that you are not well enough to make it; you don’t need to elaborate on any of your mental health issues.”

Anders snorted, but did not smile. “I think she already figures that there’s something going on with me.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I broke down in front of her a week and a half ago.” Ander shifted how he had his legs crossed. “She stayed with me for a few hours and bought me something to eat.”

“She sounds like the sort of person who would understand if you told her that you couldn’t go.”

“I don’t know.” Hummed Anders. He couldn’t shake the feeling that not going would upset Claudia, even though Wynne’s assessment of her made sense. “I’m thinking of going, but if it becomes too much, I might leave early.”

“I can’t tell you what is best for you, Anders,” Wynne was writing something as she spoke, “however, if you feel like you will be able to make an appearance, I do think it will be beneficial in helping you through the grieving process to have some interaction with other people.”

Anders nodded in understanding.

“So, homework for next session.”

xXx

Anders paced the hallway in his apartment anxiously. He clutched his phone with an iron grip, considering just canceling and being over with it. Then, he could sink back into bed and watch cat videos, or a movie, or even masturbate if it suited him. Reading a book or playing a video game was too much effort on his brain, but at least with the other three, he could relax in bed, and even fall asleep if the strain of being awake was too much for him.

It had been ten minutes since he received her ‘on my way :)’ text. Which meant he had only a couple minutes more to respond and tell her that he wasn’t going. Pounce came trotting out of the bathroom with a cheerful meow as Anders walked passed the door. He was probably sleeping in the bath tub again.

He clicked the on button on his phone once more, checking to see how much time had gone by since she texted him. But more importantly, how much time he had left to back out. Part of him didn’t want to. Claudia had been excited to invite him to Varric’s game night, and was hoping that he would fit in well with her other friends so that they could all hang out. They had discussed the details over the phone. And, while he couldn’t see her as they spoke, he could only imagine the puppy-dog expression she must have been wearing when she made the request. It only proved to Anders that he was a weak man, having fallen for such a tactic without even being there in person to see it, nor with the will enough to refuse it, even as only lip service.

His phone buzzed unexpectedly, giving Anders a reason to jolt back half a step. He looked down at the screen. It was illuminated, and with his texting app showing him what he had just received: Here.

Anders didn’t need to check who it was from to know that the sender was Claudia. Any opportunity he had to see his way out of the scenario was forfeited. To compensate, he took a sharp breath in, then proceeded to the door. He locked up on his way out.

xXx

Claudia was waiting just outside his building in her car. From the looks of the vehicle, which was a deep blue, though with some fading in places, Anders had to wager she was the second owner. Maybe even third. But, the engine ran smooth from what he could tell and she didn’t complain about it. Anders would certainly not complain if he had a running car; relying on public transit was a hassle.

He pushed these thoughts from his mind and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hey.” Greeted Claudia. She waited a couple seconds—long enough for him to buckle his seatbelt—before pulling out of the parking spot.

“Hey.” Echoed Anders. He occupied himself with adjusting the seat to allow himself enough leg room; whomever last sat in her passenger seat had to have been considerably shorter than him.

The ride was mostly silent, except the music she had playing softly over the radio. Occasionally, she would sing along when it was something she seemed to enjoy a bit more than the other songs. He didn't know Claudia that well, but he had to assume that something had her in good spirits.

It was a short drive, though Anders was quite alarmed when she threw the car in park in the parking lot for The Hanged Man. He was sure they were going to wherever Varric lived for a couple rounds of cards and maybe a few beers. Instinctively, he thought it was a mistake, but Claudia was unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the purse in the backseat. Had she forgotten?

“I thought we were going to Varric's house for cards.” Anders protested, though not before offering a hand to her in order to reach the purse; his arms were longer and made it easier to reach.

“We are. Varric lives in the apartment above The Hanged Man.” She explained. The keys were already out of the ignition and being dropped into her purse.

That didn't add up. Anders recalled Claudia saying that she lived in the apartment above The Hanged Man with her mother and uncle. He highly doubted if Varric lived there as well. “Don't you live in that apartment?”

“Kind of. Not really. We live above the shop right next to The Hanged Man. It's just easier to say I live above The Hanged Man, since everyone knows where that is.”

Anders didn't offer anymore arguments on the matter. It was kind of like how people would say things like 'I live in Denerim', despite living in a village outside the city. It wasn't exactly honest, but it made it easier to explain things to people not from the area. He thought nothing more on the matter and got out of the car.

Claudia led the way into the apartment. Apparently, she had a key to the place, Anders noticed. It struck him as a bit odd, but not nearly as odd as the fact that a famous author lived in a shithole apartment in Lowtown. He could probably afford Hightown's rent and live in a penthouse apartment with a view all the way to the Waking Sea.

“Do you know why Varric doesn't live in Hightown?” He asked curiously. It helped keep his mind off of the looming dread of having to socialize.

“He doesn't want to. He dislikes the nobles and would rather slum it in Lowtown than have to deal with them on the daily.”

xXx

Claudia didn't bother knocking when they got upstairs and to the front door. It was open, so there was no need for the key she had in her possession. When they got in, Anders was surprised at how sharply decorated the apartment was, despite it being in Lowtown. His furniture looked sturdy and Dwarven-made. Some of the pieces even looked antique. There were plenty of bookshelves, none wanting for books, either. There was no way that all of them were by Varric, but Anders couldn't help but glance over at the shelves in search of one of his as Claudia led him into the dining room.

Every one of Hawke's friends that Anders had met prior were crowded around a long, rectangular table, including the chief of police—Aveline Vallen. The only person he didn't recognize was an elven man, handsome, with white hair and markings on his skin. He was sitting beside Isabela, with Merrill on the other side. Isabela flirted with the both of them while she shuffled and dealt cards.

“Hawke!” Boomed Varric towards Claudia. “You finally made it! And you brought Blondie with, too. There's beer and soda in the fridge. Help yourselves.”

“I'm going to get something to drink. Want anything?” It hadn't registered that Claudia was talking to him until several seconds later.

Anders was embarrassed, but tried to play it off like he was busy watching Isabela deal the cards; He didn't want everyone laughing at him so soon in. “A beer is fine. Thank you.”

“No problem. Deal me in, Isabela.”

Isabela made an affirmative remark as Claudia disappeared into the kitchen.

The time in which she was away seemed to drag on. She was the only person he knew beyond  a face and a name; one of them, he didn't even have a name. Anders could feel his pulse rising and his breathing becoming shallow. He tried to remain calm and take even, deep, breaths. Social situations made him uncomfortable. Social situations when he was feeling the way he did was torture.

Luckily, Claudia was only gone for a couple of minutes. She returned with an open bottle of beer in one hand and a can of soda in the other.  The beer was handed off to him, and she took a seat near Aveline. The only other empty chair was beside Claudia, and across from the elven man, so Anders had little option but to take it.

Isabela begun divvying up the cards. She paused at Anders, probably because he hadn't confirmed whether or not he was playing. He didn't even know what they were playing.

“Do you want in, Darling?” She asked.

“What are we playing?”

“Diamondback.” Assured Varric. If you don't know how to play, you can pair up with someone to learn the rules and jump in when you feel confident.”

“I know how to play Diamondback.” Confirmed Anders. And, he did. Whether or not he was good at it was a different story. “Deal me in.”

While Isabela dealt the cards, Claudia cursed herself under her breath. “I forgot to introduce you to Fenris. Anders, the person you're sitting across from is Fenris. Fenris, this is Anders.”

The elf—Fenris—muttered a quick greeting. Anders responded with the same.

Xxx

After Several hands, Anders was really beginning to realize how terrible he was at Diamondback. Though, he was pretty sure that Isabela was cheating. Varric, he couldn't tell. It was a good thing they weren't paying for money, especially as his rent was due in three days. Conversation was pleasant enough, between Varric telling impossible stories about either someone at the table, or someone famous he knew and the litany of jokes almost everyone was sharing. Claudia seemed to be enjoying herself, at least. Anders, not so much. He would have much rather been in bed. Yet, he acknowledged, under different circumstances and if his illness wasn't an issue, this would have been fun. No matter how much he told himself that, the thoughts of Karl kept coming, and all Anders could do to keep them at bay was take another sip of the beer.

“You never did tell me how you and Blondie met, Hawke.” Varric's words caught Anders off-guard. He had been trying so hard to focus only on the cards in his hand, after all.

“He stitched my arm back up a while back.” She explained, throwing a card into the discard pile. “I left my phone at the hospital by accident after that, and he was kind enough to return it to me.”

“Why did your arm need stitching in the first place?” Asked Fenris.

“Do I really need to answer that?” Groaned Claudia.

“Yes.” Varric said.

Several others agreed with him, which seemed to upset Claudia. Anders felt bad for her, given his similar situation.

“It was a work-related injury.” Claudia spat coldly, downing probably half of her soda in one gulp. The indigestion that must have given her caused Anders to cringe.

“You spank people for a living.” Isabela sang her words sweetly, but there was a wolfish quality about the grin she wore and the sparkle in her eyes.

“And you hack into other peoples' computers for one.”

The argument, though mostly good-natured, was making Anders uncomfortable. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be back in bed. He lacked the energy to continue much more. And, the thoughts of Karl were hammering into his skull without reprieve. Anders needed to leave, but that would mean having to convince Claudia to leave early in order to drop him off.

“May I have a word with you in the kitchen, Claudia?” He requested, putting on the best attempt at 'normal' he could muster in that moment.

“Yeah. I'll be right back, everyone.”

Anders didn't bother to take in the kitchen's appearance when he found himself there. He chose instead to press himself into one of the counters, trying his best to hide his growing anxiety.

“Is something wrong, Anders?” She asked kindly.

“Yes...no...I need to go home. My...illness has been acting up recently, and I would much rather be at home and in bed than here. No offense.”

“I can ask everyone to tone it down a bit if that would help.”

“I don't think it will, but I appreciate the sentiment. I would really just like to be back home. If you would rather stay, I can walk or—“

“—It's too far for you to walk.” Claudia protested. “I'll just leave a little early and drop you off. Varric has these little get togethers regularly, so maybe if your illness isn't acting up when he hosts the next one, you can come.”

“Thank you.”

They headed back into the dining room. Isabela was collecting the cards from their last hand played, which she most likely won.

“Anders and I are going to head out now. He isn't feeling too well, so I'm going to drop him off and head home after that.”

“Lame.” Complained Isabela between shuffling the cards.

“I hope you feel better, Anders.” Merrill's remark was punctuated with a sweet smile.

“All of us are dealing with our own issues, but keep playing. Why can't he as well?”

Fenris' words put a sizable frown on Anders' face. He didn't know the other man, and yet here he was, trying to make a judgment call on Anders' behalf. Whether or not he meant to be offensive didn't matter at that moment; all that mattered was that he dismissed Anders' very real need to go back home.

“That's kind of a shitty thing to say, Fenris.” Anders was grateful for Claudia's interjection, but he didn't need her to fight his battles.

“Yes, because clearly you understand exactly what I'm going through right now.” He spat back, making no effort to hide his upset.

Before Fenris was given a chance to respond, Claudia was already tugging him out of the room.

[xkilljoys-assemblex]

Trove Redemption Codes

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[friends-call-me-wobbly-hands]

Eleven Days

AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10812825

Undertale (Underfell) fanfiction

Warnings: swearing, minor character death, violence, child abuse mention

Day 1

…On the first day, everything rockets down.

Papyrus doesn’t understand at once. How can he? The morning starts just normal. He wakes up at 5:25 and marches down the stairs in the silence of a still-sleeping neighborhood. He attaches the pieces of red and black armor where they belong. After every grim plate and every dangerous spike is placed properly, Papyrus looks at the clock. It is 5:35. High time his subordinate woke up too.

Papyrus opens his jaws like an attacking shark.

“SANS, GET UP THIS INSTANT OR SOMEONE’S IN THIS HOUSE IS GOING TO GET DUSTED, AND I HIGHLY DOUBT THAT IT’D BE ME!!!”

He listens to the fading echo of his voice. Houses all around blossom with lights and noises: the call served as an alarm clock for everyone on the street again.

Papyrus grins.

He turns the lights on too and fumbles with a packet of takeaways from Grillby’s. Not that he likes the taste, but it’s Wednesday, and every Wednesday before he does the shopping the house is about as rich in food as a church mouse’s fridge, so that is the only edible - or almost so - thing left for breakfast. And Sans will be quite angry to see his greasy cache robbed. Which is fun. Maybe he will even go as far as changing his expression for once. Just to think of it, all those grimaces he will make while watching his fries disappear in front of him...

Speaking of Sans.

“SANS, I ABSOLUTELY REQUIRE YOU TO APPEAR DOWNSTAIRS TEN SECONDS AFTER A COMMAND, AND YOU HAVE ALREADY EXCEEDED THIS LIMIT BY A WHOLE MINUTE! I DO NOT CARE WHAT KEEPS YOU THAT PREOCCUPIED THERE, BUT IT IS IN YOUR INTEREST TO COME OUT RIGHT AWAY! DON’T MAKE ME PULL YOU ALL THE WAY TO YOUR STATION BY THE SCRUFF OF YOUR NECK AGAIN!”

The guard sighs, rubbing his throat. Any other day Sans would stumble out of his door immediately, huffing from the shock of a sudden awakening. But today… Is it possible that he is still sleeping? Not really. The smaller skeleton is quite a light-sleeper, stirred up by a slightest sound or movement. And even if he wasn’t, well. Such screams would awaken the dead with ease.

“I SWEAR, SANS!!! YOU ARE TRYING MY PATIENCE! AND I WILL NEVER FORGET ANYTHING AS DARING AS THIS, I PROMISE!!!”

No answer.

Could it be sickness? But Sans would have come anyway. Sick or not, the rules are not something you can break so simply. Could it be defiance? …That is an option, but Sans should’ve learned by now that defiance is treated accordingly, especially if it is as stupid as this is.

Is it possible that Sans has already got up and went to his sentry station all by himself?.. No. Anything but that.

Three, two, one.

“SANS!!!”

Wait. Is it… may it be a setup for a joke? Is Sans waiting for Papyrus to knock at his door only to clog his sensitive earholes with bad humor? Ugh. The possibility is always high. Sans is the type of guy who jokes at the least appropriate times, in the worst way possible, just to get a couple of long faces to his pleasure. The type of guy who jokes about cripples and dead babies in the presence of cripples and dead babies. The type of guy who would probably meet the grim reaper with a pun so terrible that death will run away in disgust. Well, you get the idea. And the worst part of it is, if you are the only brother of such a punster, you don’t get much chance to escape.

Another cold fry meets its end in Papyrus’ jaw. It is soft and oversalted. He grimaces. Oh, for Asgore’s sake! He tried his best to be gentle, but it seems that most of the times violence is the best solution. Fine. He will just go and drag that lazy bag of trash out by himself. And Sans will have to make up for his behavior later on. Papyrus can’t think up anything nice right now, but – oh, he will.

He thunders up the stairs, as intimidating as he can be. He runs up to Sans’ door. He pounders on it three or four times and then, believing he has given the other’s privacy enough respect, he throws it open with a hearty kick.

“SANS!!!”

The inside of the room is wrapped in purple twilight. Streams of yellow light from the open door outline piles of papers, crumbled packages, fries stumped into the carpet - and a small dark lump of sheets on the dirty mattress. Papyrus rushes to that lump. He tears away the sheets and shakes the skeleton underneath them.

“HAVEN’T YOU HEARD ME BEFORE? OR SHOULD I MAKE MYSELF CLEARER? GET UP THIS INSTANT!”

He shakes the other’s shoulders for a moment longer before becoming aware that something is wrong.

Something is… off.

Sans’ head hangs down loose, his eyes are dark and round, and his face… well. It is quite unnatural for someone being shaken and shouted at to have such an aloof, blank – peaceful, even! - face.

Papyrus freezes, still clenching Sans’ shoulders. The taste of salt lingers in his mouth. His thoughts stop, as if facing a dead end. His instincts, however, are still working accurately: he shrugs and checks the other skeleton’s stats out of habit.

For a second, everything seems fine to him. 1 ATK, 1 DF, 1 HP, right as it should be. Papyrus has enough time to blaze with anger and give this fraud another steady shake, when it happens.

Tick.

Sans’ stats glitch and then return back to normal again.

Papyrus blinks at the oh-so-familiar numbers before him.

1 ATK. 1 DF.

0.9 HP.

 ***

 There are no healers that would enter their house willingly. Papyrus has quite a reputation, and it’s a bad idea to dare get too close to him.

To be honest, it is a bad idea just to be born in the Underground with a talent to heal. Your life is going to be tricky at the very least. Half of the underground will try to seize you and turn into a slave. Another, saner half will haggle over every piece of gold you charge for your services. You can also hire someone, who will protect you while sucking your magic dry on a daily basis – or taking half of the gold you earn. Or you can stick together with other healers and form a union - only to probably get killed in a fight over the clients and prices. (Or never ever tell anyone you know green magic, and spend your life making sure no one learns about it.) Not the brightest perspective, you know.

To be even more honest, it is a bad idea to be born in the Underground in general.

So it’s no wonder that Papyrus has literally no one to turn to. He tries to wake the skeleton up with more shaking and shouting, and even tries a little bit of that magic on him, but it does no good. Sans just refuses to react. Papyrus shakes him like a ragdoll before throwing him back on the mattress and storming out of the room in a frenzy of annoyed “nyeh”-s.

He has no idea what to do next.

Papyrus repeatedly runs in and out of the house for the next minute. He has his duties to perform, and he can spare no time for babysitting. At the same time, he can’t just leave Sans there to rot. He pays half of the taxes, after all! Yet, nothing can be done, really. There is a handful of monsters Papyrus knows, but they wouldn’t help him even if they could. Normally that wouldn’t bother him in the slightest, but now! Of all the times! Sans surely knew how to cause him trouble, yeah…

At last Papyrus decides that Sans can wait – but his duties can’t. He goes on to meet the canine unit, gives them instructions and growls at them for a better effect. When the frightened whining reaches critical levels, Papyrus throws them a couple of bones and dismisses them. He looks at their backs as they leave, nurturing a hope that this will be enough to keep them from getting into trouble.

For another hour, at least.

The guard devotes the whole day to looking for some healer that he could trust, but nothing good comes out of it at the end. Of course he knows that bunny – and a guy in Waterfall who can patch you up without asking too many questions – and probably a Vulkin or two from Hotland, yeah. But the bunny will never deal with the skeletons, even if you aim a blaster at her. The Waterfall guy is good for wounds only. And Vulkins – well. Vulkins are just dumb. In the middle of the process they can forget that they were healing you and try to drown you in lava. It’s worth the risk when you have a hundred or two of HP points, but with Sans…

By the way, speaking of Hotland.

Papyrus lingers on a thought for a minute. Then he picks up his phone and dials a number. He would prefer not to deal with that person ever again, but it seems that he has no choice.

Well. Another reason to be annoyed with Sans. It is his fault that Papyrus has to socialize when he doesn’t want to!

The guard is thinking about how he will make Sans pay when the line is picked up.

“H-hello?” A quiet voice stutters in the dynamic. “Who am I talking to? A-and, what is more important, d-do you mind reminding me why I d-don’t know your number?”

Papyrus sighs and picks on his nose bone.

“ALPHYS. WE NEED TO TALK”.

***

The Royal Scientist arrives in half an hour, incognito. She frowns at the cold of Snowdin and muffles herself in a fur coat. Her face gives away nothing but annoyance. If she had a choice, she would laugh at the thought of travelling half of the Underground for a reason no one bothered to tell her. But no choice is provided. Scientists stand lower than warriors, especially when said scientists are not currently useful. And Papyrus is a Royal Guardsman. His orders are just slightly less urgent than Asgore’s. Moreover, there is that issue, so Alphys knows better than to disobey.

She follows Papyrus inside the house, keeping the same blank face. All emotions, if she still has those, are hidden behind the cloudy glasses. Papyrus squints at her. It is impossible to understand what she thinks or feels, and that is quite unsettling. But he keeps that to himself. It’s not like they are close enough to be annoyed by things like that.

“S-so? What’s happened?”

“THERE IS A PROBLEM THAT HAS PROVEN DIFFICULT TO SOLVE. I ASSUMED YOU COULD GIVE ME A HAND IN THIS.”

The cloudy glasses turn at him.

“Theoretically, wh-what reasons do I have to d-do so?”

“THEORETICALLY, YOU DON’T WANT ANYONE – FOR EXAMPLE, UNDYNE - TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR LITTLE HOBBY, RIGHT?”

Alphys squeezes her eyes shut and flinches. Her face is dark with fear for a moment, and that’s the second time Papyrus has seen her actually react to something. Then she stares at the guard blankly again.

“W-what do you w-want m-me to d-do?”

Papyrus waves at her to follow him and leads her to the small dark room.

“I FORBID YOU TO TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS”.

Alphys pauses in the doorway. She gives the skeleton on the mattress a thoughtful look and locks her fingers together.

“I…” A deep breath. “I see why you w-would ask me for help”. She takes off her coat, opens her bag, lowers herself to Sans, cuts his clothes open without much respect and starts a quick examination. Her plump hands in surgical gloves flutter all over his body like two white birds of prey, with a well-studied grace and swiftness. “You probably shouldn’t w-worry, Papyrus. I’m fairly g-good at keeping s-secrets”.

“NOT AS GOOD AS YOU THINK, THOUGH”, Papyrus growls impatiently. “OTHERWISE YOU WOULDN’T HAVE…”

“Yes, I know”, mumbles the scientist. After a moment she stands back and looks at Papyrus exhaustedly. “W-well. That’s it”.

“THAT’S IT WHAT? I HAVE NO TIME FOR PUZZLES RIGHT NOW!!!”

“That’s w-what it looks like”, says Alphys, locking her fingers again. “He… it is safe to say he f-fell d-d-down. After all, it is almost surprising that it took him th-that long to succumb. Even stronger monsters didn’t p-prove immune to this. And he was n-not…” She understands that she stepped too close to the boundary and shrugs it off. “However, I w-would call it… an hour. Maybe two. He h-has low HP by default, so… it shouldn’t take long for him to turn to d-dust. One c-could probably advise you to t-take care of him soon, if you don’t want to waste the EXP, but I would not v-voice such a reckless opinion, of c-course”.

Papyrus stares at the dirty mattress.

Fell down. That is little less than a death warrant. The only difference is that the torture is a bit longer. From now on things won’t ever be the same. From now on, there is no Sans, just a living corpse ready to dust any minute. He has fallen down. That’s it.

      Papyrus can’t help but admit that this thought feels strangely… liberating.