#i guess i should just go to sleep... sleep for twelve hours or maybe just wake up earlier... either is fine i guess

[databent]

nobody is awake... come on

[thevoidstaredback]

Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

Damian Wayne, Dec. 24, 2011

Your forgiveness is more than I ever could’ve asked for. I still don’t think I deserve it, but I will take what you have given me, ahki.

You writing back was unexpected, but I’m so glad you did! Though, I guess this isn’t very secure, huh. Oh, well! As long as nothing incriminating is written down, we should be fine.

How’s father? And your siblings? I understand there are three kids father’s adopted. Also, what about your extracurriculars? Anything exciting going on that you can tell me about? It’s boring, crime wise, where I’m at. No murder mysteries or sex scandals or huge break-ins. Not that I want any of those to happen, but it’d be really fun to get to follow a case that isn’t twelve years old or four states over.

How are you adjusting at all, actually? It was a big culture shock for me for a while, especially because no one here speaks Arabic. Can you believe that? Some of the others still think I made up an entire language just to mess with them! I haven’t been able to speak with someone in our mother tongue in a while, but I’ve been trying not to forget any of it! Even if there’s an accent coming through.

Tell me about your life. Not what the media says. I want to know the real you. Do you have friends? Any pets? What about hobbies? Do you still have that dagger I made you that one time?

Anyway, I gotta go now. I hope to hear from you soon!

I don’t know what holiday(s) father and your siblings celebrate, so I’ll wish you a happy all of them!

سأسامحك دائماً يا أخي لقد وُضعت في أسوأ الاحتمالات وبذلت قصارى جهدك بما كان لديك من معرفة. كنت ستعرض نفسك للخطر فقط إذا عدت.

Danny Fenton

***

Danny had wasted no time in writing a response. Was he going to come off as eager? Probably, but he didn’t really care. His brother had responded to him! Granted, he thinks this is a trick, but there’s some part of Damian that believes Danny’s alive! He forgives him for not going home! It’s more than Danny could’ve ever allowed himself to hope for.

But, gods was he awkward! He hadn’t let Jazz read the letter at all. She didn’t know what he said the first time, she didn’t know what the response said, and she wasn’t ever going to read any of them if he had any say in the matter. Yes, they’re siblings and he loves her just as much as he loves Damian, but this was something she didn’t have any business poking her nose into. He liked to think that Damian would likewise keep this from his own siblings, though he’d totally understand if Dami shared purely because of the suspicious circumstances.

Anyway, Danny had read and re-read Damian’s letter for hours, trying to come up with the best response, only stopping when Jazz called him down for dinner. Sleep hadn’t come easily, either, because of the adrenaline from actually getting a response. He’d hoped he’d get one, but he was also sure that he wouldn’t get one.

But why did he have to be so awkward writing back? Damian’s his brother, not a total stranger! Damian probably wouldn’t care. Danny’s always been like that, awkward at all the wrong times. He’s just gotten used to not hiding it since he left, though it had taken a while.

He has to wonder, though, if Damian is with father, does this mean he’s left the Shadows? How had he done it? Obviously, he hadn’t faked his death. Father is a very public figure, so anything short of Damian leaving a massacre behind him as he left the Shadows would be unlikely. Unless he is still with the Shadows? In which case, Danny’s just doomed himself. Sure, the PO box was set up in the town over, and maybe he struck up a deal to have the letters sent from there to his house, but that wasn’t going to stop ninja assassins. Nothing short of death would stop ninja assassins!

No! Bad Danny! No use having second thoughts now; It’s too late. He just has to hope for the best. Gods, was he hoping, wishing on stars and everything! He wanted this to work out. He wanted to have a relationship with his older brother-

Damn, he’s still the younger sibling. He hadn’t thought much of it before, but both Jazz and Damian are older than him! If he counts father’s children, which he does only to prove his point this one time, then he’s the youngest of six kids! That’s not fair. Who decided that was a fair trade? Could be worse, he supposed. He could be stuck as a middle sibling. Shutter the thought.

“Danny?” Jazz opened the door with a knock, “You ready to send that letter?”

He groaned into his pillow. “I already did.”

“Really?” she wondered, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Yeah,” he rolled over to face her, “Finished it this morning and shipped it off.”

Jazz hummed. “I still don’t get why you won’t let me read them. I could totally help you with spelling and stuff!”

Danny sat up and stared at her with a dead look. “Jazz, I was taught by people who were the best of the best in their fields. There isn’t a single thing you could do to help me write or read those letters.”

“Why not?”

“Because they aren’t in English.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying!”

“Yes you are! I saw the one you got! It was in English!” She paused. “Except for that last bit. That just looked like a bunch of squiggles.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “That wasn’t a bunch of squiggles, Jazz. It was Arabic, my mother tongue.”

“First,” she adjusted to sit criss-cross on the foot of his bed, “Never say ‘mother tongue’ again; it sounds weird. Second, the simple solution is to teach me Arabic.”

Danny had to pause for a second to let the words register in his head. “You-you want to learn Arabic?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I mean, it can’t be that hard, right?”

“Yes it can,” he sighed, “You’d have to learn a whole new alphabet of letters and sounds. It’s not a Latin based language like English or Spanish.”

“I can do it!”

“I don’t doubt that, but I think an easier language would be better.”

She huffed. “You just don’t wanna share.”

True, but, “I could teach you Romanian? It’s a Latin derived language, like English, so it’s got the same alphabet.”

“Fine,” she agreed after a moment, “Where do we start?”

“Kids!” their dad called from the kitchen, “We have something for you!”

Danny and Jazz shared a grimace. “Down stairs, apparently,” he said. Quickly, they left the room and made their way down the stairs and to the kitchen. Their parents probably didn’t have any actual gifts for them, so they weren’t going to get their hopes up.

They were right, of course. Jack and Maddie Fenton were creatures of habit and obsession; workaholics, in simpler terms.

The two kids joined their parents at the table. “Mom,” Jazz greeted, “Dad.”

“Jazzypants!” Jack smiled, his voice booming, “Dann-o!”

“What’s up?” Danny asked. He wanted to go back to his room and stew over what he’d just sent to his brother. Seriously? ‘I’ll wish you a happy all of them?’ That’s so stupid! Beyond stupid, actually! He wanted to curl up and die. Can people die of embarrassment?

Maddie smiled kindly at her children, somehow matching her husband’s energy but not his volume. “We had another breakthrough in our research.”

“Oh?” Danny had been intrigued by the [now] Drs. Fenton’s research. It was all theoretical, of course, but they claimed to have proof of base for their research. He’d never seen it before, and they’d never offered to show him or Jazz, but they mentioned it in all of their papers. He’d never deemed it worth anything, so it had been pushed behind relevant information like literally anything else.

He still didn’t know how they’d gotten those papers published. They were the laughing stocks of the scientific and occult communities! An accomplishment in and of itself, really.

“Yes,” his mother nodded, “But that’s not what we called you two down to discuss.”

“It’s not? Jazz tilted her head to the side.

“Nope!” Jack’s smile somehow got bigger. “We’ve decided that the both of you are old enough-”

“-and responsible enough.” Maddie added.

“-do go down and see the lab!”

Jazz and Danny had two very different reactions to this statement. Danny was a bit excited to get to see whatever held his parents’ attention at all hours of the day. Jazz, on the other hand, was furious.

“What!” she demanded.

Jack and Maddie didn’t seem to even register her anger. “You two have both proven yourselves responsible in your school and house work, so we figured it was time to let you two in on the family business.”

“But, I don’t want to do lab work!” Jazz objected, now standing with her hands on the table and her chair pushed back aggressively.

“Nonsense,” Maddie waved her off easily, “You’ll love it. Besides, you’ve always wanted to help us in the lab, ever since you were a child.”

Jazz just screamed in outrage. “I’ve never said that!”

She was ignored. “Of course, we’ll have to go over the proper safety measures so that neither of you gets hurt.” Jack stated.

Throwing her hands up, Jazz stormed away from the table and stomped up to her room, the door slamming behind her. Danny has no doubts that she’s locked herself in.

“She must be tired,” Jack smiled fondly, “We’ve got some work to finish up down stairs, Dann-o, but we’ll be back up for dinner, alright?”

Danny nodded and the two left. Quietly, he whispered, “Liar.” to the empty main floor.

***

Danyal Fenton Dec. 27, 2011

Your definition of ‘incriminating’ must be wrong. You reaching out in the first place would’ve put us both in danger had your letter been intercepted. The same remains true for every letter we exchange, though I will not be the one to put a stop to the communication. It is nice to have physical evidence of your conversations, no matter how much time passes between each response.

I am still skeptical that you are my brother, but, as I said in my last letter, I will continue on with a shade pulled over my eyes, ahki.

I have done some research while living with father. My own experiences prove at least some of what they say is true. I never truly believed you had died. I always had a feeling that you were alive somewhere, safe, out of reach of Grandfather and Mother.

Father is well. In public, he is outgoing, drunk, clumsy, able to start a conversation from nothing and let it trail off into a slightly more useful nothing. In truth, he is standoffish, strong, able to talk circles around anyone. He is always ready for a fight and always prepared for the worst. He does not like surprises.

We have four siblings, and one honorary sibling. Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, Cassandra Cain, and Stephanie Brown. Grayson is more outgoing than the others, though he has been with Father the longest, so he is just as skilled as him. Todd was dead and refuses to communicate with Father. Drake is smart, but that is all he has going for him. Cain was raised in the League like us, though not at any of the bases we ever visited. Brown was dating Drake, but has since become more of a sister to the Manor.

Alfred Pennyworth is the family butler. He raised Father and continues to stand by his side. He is a formidable foe, though I have yet to see him in actual combat. He, aside from Father and myself, is the most competent resident of Wayne Manor.

Again, you need to reassess your definition of ‘incriminating’. There is nothing I can share, without consequence, that hasn’t already been made public by the GCPD. I will say, however, that my position as the superior child remains unchallenged. Not that any of those bastards Father has taken in would ever pose any kind of challenge to me or you.

I must ask, you know where I am, so is it not fair that you tell me where you are? The return address you have used leads to a PO box in Elmerton, Illinois, but I doubt that’s where you really are. Your description of ‘boring’ in regards to the crime rate is fully expected of anywhere when compared to Gotham, though that goes nearly doubly so for the midwest.

It was a shock to me as well, though I have been handling it. None of the others have noticed any unease, so I will take it. It will not do to show weakness in the face of enemies. I can agree, however, that the lack of use of Arabic is disappointing. I do not fear that I will ever forget the language or our home, but I do regret to say that I have encountered similar problems you have.

Father insists that I go to school with others my age to ‘socialize’, though I do not see the point. It’s all thinly veiled insults from the adults we are placed in the charge of. I am much smarter than my peers, so I have not been able to have a single intelligent conversation with any of them. The exception, however, being Jon Kent. He is adequate company. Our Father and his father are friends.

I have a cat named Alfred, after the butler. I would like to get a dog, but Father has denied my request. I have, however, managed to hide Goliath in the cave. Father knows he is there, but the others remain oblivious.

As for hobbies, art is the only one worth mentioning. I have several sets of paints and colors and pencils, though I remain partial to charcoal. Paper is the easiest to use, but I prefer canvas.

Of course I still have that dagger, Danyal. I have many weapons, but that is the only one that has never left my person.

Father is Jewish, though he was raised Catholic, and is an atheist; Grayson is Christian; Todd was raised Catholic, but is atheist; Drake was born to a Christian mother, but he follows after his father as an atheist; Neither Cain nor Brown were born into religious families, so they don’t follow any religion, as far as I’m aware.

Pennyworth has decorated the Manor for all of the holidays, though the only tradition I’ve actually seen practiced is the gift exchange from Christmas.

Honestly, you must work on your formatting. You give almost no information in exchange for your questions getting answers. It makes your letters very short. So, I will turn all of your questions back on you. I expect them to be answered sufficiently.

أفضل ما لدي لم يكن جيداً بما فيه الكفاية كنت أعلم أنك لا تزال على قيد الحياة�� ومع ذلك لم أفعل شيئًا سوى نشر كذبة وفاتك.

Damian Wayne

***

The letter was a surprise, especially considering it’s a page and a half, though he should’ve expected it. He found it hilarious that the first thing Dami had done this time was to insult him. At least he’d waited a few lines in the last letter! It hurt a bit that Damian still thought this was a trick, but Danny couldn’t find it in himself to blame him. He’d’ve acted the same way if their roles were reversed.

He liked hearing about Damian’s family. They’re so different compared to what the media says. Then again, he expected that. Most people are hardly ever exactly how they’re portrayed to bigger audiences. The Drs. Fenton being an exception.

And, yeah, he knew Dami was going to search the address, but did he really have to come out and say it like that? At least he knew the Shadows (League?) hadn’t gotten in the middle, otherwise he’d’ve been cut down by now. Small blessings.

Ah, Goliath the dragon bat. Danny remembers when they got Goliath. Hiding him was hard, but they managed. Though, he’s fairly certain that Mother knew they had him hidden in the caves of Nanda Parbat. That does beg the question, though, of how the hell Damian managed to get a - by now - fully grown dragon bat across continents and into a cave in New Jersey without being spotted? Did he even really want to know? Probably not.

Danny could remember the expression on Damian’s face when he realized that Goliath was getting bigger. They’d found him on their first mission for Grandfather after leaving the group that had been sent with them. They’d kept him moving between their rooms when they got back, never keeping him in one for more than a night before moving him to the other. Then suddenly, the creature they’d found that was no bigger than their forearms was as long as their arms from shoulder to fingertip! They had only been able to keep Goliath between their rooms for another month before having to hide him in the caves under Nanda Parbat.

And the food! Goliath, even as a baby dragon bat, could eat triple his body weight. It was a wonder no one found him! How does Damian keep him fed? And how have his siblings not noticed the dragon under their house? Thoughts for another time.

Danny closed his book as he finished it. It was the astrology one, clearly written for people new to the topic, but he wasn’t complaining. It was easy to understand and he found himself actually enjoying it more than he originally anticipated. He could see why the girls in his class liked it, too. He could see himself falling deeper into this rabbit hole, but he wasn’t upset about that.

He moved on to read the second book he’d gotten, the one about witchcraft. Briefly, he chuckled at the image that he was slowly coming to see as his future. “A witch,” he hummed with a smile, “Mother would be so disappointed.”

The book opened up with a brief history about the topic before going into a deep dive about different practices and how things had changed and improved throughout history. It also gave names to famous witches and witch hunters, one that he recognized.

Jack Fenton, about three years after Danny had been taken in by the family, had given Danny a full rundown of his and Maddie’s family histories. Fentonightingale had been the family name until Jack’s great-grandfather had changed it to Fenton when he married. John Fentonightingale was a well known witch hunter in Salem, Massachustes in 1600. He was best known for eating a slow acting poison in the form of - now extinct - flowers as evidence against an unnamed witch on trial. He died shortly thereafter, leaving his grieving wife and children.

The humor was not lost to Danny. “Looks like dad’ll be disappointed, too.”

“Knock, knock?” Jazz asked from the hallway, knocking her knuckle on his bedroom door.

“Yeah?” he called back, closing his book and putting it down.

Jazz opened the door. “Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been hiding out here all day. No plans with Sam or Tucker?”

Danny shook his head. “Nah. Tuck’s spending the break with his family and Sam’s been forced to go to a rich person party somewhere in Washington.”

“DC?”

“State.”

“She’s not too far.”

“Too far for an emergency extraction.”

“You sound like she’s gonna get killed or something.”

Danny snorted. “Don’t jinx it, Jazzercise.”

“I’m not gonna jinx it, Danimal.” She leaned against the door frame. “Besides, even if she did die, she’d come back as a ghost just to haunt you.”

He groaned and flopped over onto his side. “Don’t even joke about that!”

“Why, ‘cause I’m right?” He groaned again. She laughed. “Alright, Dannibal Lector, since you’re obviously bored out of your mind, you wanna come watch a movie with me?”

“And risk mom and dad dragging us down into the lab?” He sat up, “No thanks.”

“Come on,” she goaded, “It’ll be fun! I’ll even let you pick the movie!”

“Hmmmm. A documentary on ghost hunting or a mockumentary on ghost hunting? Such a hard decision.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. “Come on, D! You can’t stay locked in here forever.”

“Actually, J, I think I can. I’ve got food, water, and entertainment. I’ll be fine.”

“What about when you have to pee or shower?”

“I’ll put a bucket in the corner and dump it out the window.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“And rainwater is clean enough.”

“It’s literally not, though.”

“Well, I won’t know unless I try.”

“You’re not gonna live in here by yourself!”

“Why? You wanna join me? Sorry, but there’s only enough pillows for a one person fort.”

She snorted and shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What’s hard to believe? Unless you’ve got pillows hidden up your-” He cut himself off with an exaggerated and mocking gasp. “Jazz! Do you have pillows hidden up your ass?”

“Danny!” she scolded, but her tone was fond, “Watch your language, brat!”

“What?” he giggled, “It’s a genuine question.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, “No, I do not have pillows shoved up my ass.”

“Language!” he mocked.

“Are you gonna come watch a movie with me or not?”

“Sure, sure,” he stood, “But if we get dragged down to the lab, I’m blaming you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

*

Danny was right. He was right and he was never listening to Jazz ever again. He could live in his room until he turned eighteen! That was totally something he could do. It wasn’t like he’d been raised to survive off of less in less space.

Instead of watching a movie they’d seen a million times before, the siblings had decided to watch YouTube on the TV. Halfway into Episode 4 of Buzzfeed Unsolved, their parents came up and dragged them down to the lab to show them their breakthrough from the previous night.

Looking at it, it was much less a breakthrough and more of ‘getting closer to the final picture’. The Ghost Portal had been a project that Jack and Maddie had been working on since college. A friend of theirs had gotten sent to the hospital for this project and had yet to be released. What had given them the idea that this was safe to build in their basement, let alone show their children? Regardless, it was too late now, so Danny and Jazz were forced to roll with it.

“We’re almost done with it!” Jack looked like a proud parent when he was looking at the thing.

The Ghost Portal, as it was now, was built directly into the furthermost wall of the basement. It wasn’t load bearing, thank the gods. The portal was ten feet deep, seven and a half feet tall, octagonal in shape. The paneling that covered the walls and ceiling was black with electric blue circuitry cutting through them. The blank spots where the paneling was not put up were gray, matching the cement floor of the lab. There were some work lights inside, white LED strips that lined the bottom seams where the floor met the walls. The floor itself was made of black tile and nearly completely covered in loose cables and unfinished paneling. There was a red button in place of one of the missing side panels that screamed ‘accident waiting to happen’.

“What is it?” Jazz asked, not daring to go closer than the stair doorway. Danny didn’t blame her.

“It’s the Ghost Portal, Jazzy!” Maddie’s grin was huge, taking up nearly her whole face. “We’ve nearly got it finished.”

“Yep!” Jack nodded excitedly, “All we’ve got left to do is finish the inside paneling, build the outer frame, and turn her on!”

“What about powering it?” Danny wondered just as Jazz said, “‘Her’?”

Jack still hadn’t taken his eyes off of the thing. “She’s already connected to the power grid; That’s why the circuitry in the paneling is glowing, see?”

Danny picked his way through the papers cluttering the table next to him, finding the portal’s blueprints on the very bottom. The handwriting in the margins was messy, obviously from two people and taking up almost every inch of the paper. The schematics of the portal itself was done in white and much neater than the black ink from his parents’ handwriting. A third person, probably their college friend, had been the one to draw the thing with the first basic formuli. Overall, it was messy and a hazard to look at.

“Are, uh, you guys sure that this won’t blow up our house?” Danny asked, unable to keep from scrunching his nose up at the sight of the blueprints.

“Positive.” Maddie sounded so serious, like it was the absolute truth.

“You wanna check out the inside?” Jack asked, practically bouncing like an excited puppy.

Jazz was quick to shake her head, going so far as to take a step back into the landing at the bottom of the stairs. Before Danny could follow her lead, though, Jack grabbed Danny and pulled him forwards.

“Go on,” the giant man urged.

Gulping, Danny complied. He was so going to lock himself in his room now. He didn’t plan on leaving until Sam and Tucker were both back in town! “Alright.” He hoped his hesitation was obvious enough for his parents to get the cue that he did not want to be doing this. Unfortunately, neither picked up on it. Jazz did, but she wasn’t about to risk moving closer in case Jack or Maddie got the idea of shoving her towards the thing, too.

Danny had a bad feeling about this.

Stepping into the tunnel that was the portal was like walking into a different world. Somehow, even though he was only half a foot in and there was light on all sides, it was dark in there. The blue from the paneling was nearly nonexistent, and the white LEDs lining the floor were so dim that they were useless. Was this a purposeful thing? How was this possible?

The cables and cords that had been visible from the outside were almost invisible in the somehow lower lighting of the portal tunnel, same with the unfinished wall panels on the floor. And, as a result of the hazardous mess on the floor and the near pitch dark, Danny tripped halfway through. His training didn’t let him fall, but his inability to keep up the rigorous schedule he’d been raised on made him reach out to steady himself on the wall.

Millimeters before his fingers so much as grazed the button he’d not been able to see after crossing the threshold, Danny heard the barely there whisper of “Time Out.” followed almost immediately by “Time in.” at the same volume.

Catching himself on the cold, softly glowing paneling of the wall, Danny was quick to straighten out and turn around. That thing gave him the creeps and he would much rather go back to reading his book, thank you.

“So, Dann-o?” Jack clapped his shoulder when he got back to them, “What’d ya think?”

Unable to disappoint the people he’d come to see as his parents, Danny plastered a smile on his face and said, “It’s pretty cool. I can’t wait to see what it looks like when it’s finished!”

Maddie cheered. “Right? As soon as it’s done, those assholes at Harvard will have to take us seriously!”

Danny seriously doubted they would. In fact, he doubted the portal would even work at all. It’s a hypothetical experiment that had the potential and huge likelihood of going catastrophically wrong. How much power would it take to even turn the thing on? Several city blocks at least, right? If that blows up, it'll take out not only their house, but probably half the city and everyone within the blast radius.

Danny should report this to somebody.

“That’s not even the best part!” Jack exclaimed, hurting over to what looked like an electrical box that had been set into the unfinished walls of the basement lab. Opening the small metal door revealed a hand scanner that Jack quickly placed his hand on. After five seconds, a small compartment just above the scanner opened up. Inside was a small glass phial of thick, glowing green liquid. Liquid that Danny recognised.

Shit.

“This is what’s gonna power the portal after the initial launch,” Jack explained, his voice reverent as he cradled the phial in his large hands, “Ectoplasm.”

Ecto-what? Danny knew that glowing liquid. He’d only seen it once, but he knew what it was. He could say, with full confidence and  a puffed chest, that what his dad was currently holding was a phial of Lazarus Water. The color and consistency were the same as the Pits. The stuff even glowed like the Pit Water! It was terrifying that Danny had encountered any of the stuff this far from the Shadows, and he found himself taking several steps back toward Jazz.

“That’s, um, that’s-”

“Awesome, dad!” Jazz said for him, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pulling him back. He was so glad she had because he was sure he was seconds away from freezing in place. “Danny’s getting tired, though, and I’m a bit hungry, so we’re gonna head back upstairs now. Is that alright?”

“Sounds great, sweetie,” Maddie waved the two off in a clear dismissal, “We’ll be up in a few minutes.”

Danny rushed up the stairs, waiting for Jazz in the kitchen. When she joined him she muttered, “Liar.” under her breath before closing the door. “So,” she said to Danny.

“So.” he repeated.

“What made you so freak out down there?” she asked, “Not that I blame you. That portal thing freaked me out, too.”

Danny shrugged. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“It’s not healthy to bottle things up, Danny.”

“I know, I just don’t want to talk about it right now,” Or ever. “Bad memories.”

Jazz’s expression softened. “Alright,” she nodded, “Do you want some chips?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m gonna go to my room.”

“You can’t hide in there forever!”

He was halfway up the stairs. “I can try!”

Translation 1 - Arabic :: I will always forgive you, brother. You were put in the worst possible situation and you did the best you could with the knowledge you had. You would have only jeopardized yourself if you went back.

Translation 2 - Arabic :: My best wasn't good enough. I knew you were still alive, yet I did nothing but spread the lie of your death.

Part 1 Part 3

[ollypopwrites]

I wish you would write a fic where Emmrich or Rook is in a timeloop and the one who isn't in the loop belives the other every time they tell them about it.

oh my god and they WOULD believe each other.

This is like… very rough and i haven’t finished my coffee so forgive me but I wrote a little bit.

It’s the fifth time Rook has looked at him in near abject horror, and he can’t help but smile fondly despite her reaction. What an impossible thing, and she takes Emmrich’s word for it wholeheartedly every time.

He thinks he may have it figured out this time. Five repetitions of the same day, the first had been a confused panic inducing day when he cornered Rook and told her as calmly as he could that —

“There seems to be some sort of anomaly happening, as I seem to be reliving the same day as yesterday.”

The second to third days had been spent tirelessly finding a solution. Difficult, since any progress of creating anything to help would be reset. But Rook was by his side, after the first initial shock and without fail she would stay up until the final hour in which Emmrich would promptly fall asleep, only to wake up as he had every day previous.

The fourth he had figured it out, but was unable to get to Arlathan forest (where he was now certain this particular wrinkle started) and finish the ritual. This fifth day, as he sat in front of Rook, who reached out to grab him.

“We’ll figure this out, Emmrich, I promise.”

Everytime it was the same. Maybe not word for word, but she gave her unyielding support. Her solemn promise to save him.

“Thank you, Rook.”

He knew what needed to be done, he already knew where they needed to go. Yet, he spent the day at Rook’s side. Just one more day.

By quarter to midnight, when his eyes started drooping, his body started to shut down so that by the stroke of the first hour he was thrust back, he watched Rook start to panic.

“It didn’t work! We didn’t figure it out,” she hissed. “Emmrich, come find me tomorrow— or today - whatever- we will get this. I know we will.”

Emmrich is feeling bold after having wasted a precious day of looping through time just to spend one more stretch of hours with her undivided attention. To watch her worry and fuss over ‘saving him’ from a terrible fate. It hadn’t been quite as dramatic as he originally thought, no, indeed, he found himself enjoying it.

Emmrich grabbed her hand, kissing it, and smiling, “my dear, we already did.”

Rook was just a little off-kilter, and she frowned. “Then why didn’t you —“

“Selfishness,” he admitted gently.

His time is running out, even as he moves to pull her in he’s growing tired. Unable to fight off the magical pull that requires him to fall asleep and wake up in the same day. Emmrich tilts her face up to his, a gentle touch underneath her chin and a whispered plea for forgiveness before he kisses her, as he has wanted to for weeks.

It lacks any of the propriety or the prerequisite lead up. It is, at its core, a selfish indulgence. Just before the clock strikes twelve and wipes the slate clean. Their first kiss that she won’t remember come morning, and he will probably remember forever.

She kisses him back, and only stops to speak with their lips still touching, “how many times have we done this?”

“Just this once.”

“You should… we should do it again. Tomorrow… or today, I guess.”

Just as he starts to feel the elation he falls asleep.

Emmrich wakes abruptly, as if from a dream. Downstairs, Manfred knocks a book off of a shelf as he has for the past five days at the same time, the same sound, the same hiss of shock. He dresses, he goes through the routine of the morning before calmly walking next door to Rook’s door.

She comes to answer his knock with bleary eyes, and in rumpled sleep clothes.

“What is it, Emmrich?” She frowns.

“Rook, I need to get to Arlathan forest. And I need you to come with me. It is a matter of urgency.” His tone doesn’t convey it, and he’s smiling too easily.

Rook nods, ready to help. Always ready. “Lemme…” she yawns, “sorry, let me get dressed. We’ll go right away. You okay?”

“Perfectly content. Just a small metaphysical anomaly. Quite enlightening, really.”

prompt post: “I wish you would write a fic where…”

[glo0b]

Cuddles with a croc

I do not own the art or characters

whom: Sebek x gn!reader

TW: nsfw? if you squint hard enough

word count: 791

request: He gets turned into a camen in alchemy class, we’re one of only 3 responsible-ish people on campus, so crewl has us watch him, but doesn’t tell us what’s going on cuz he’s in a hurry. Croc in a blanket burrito, lots of Steve Irwin behavior from us and lots of kisses on the snoot, crewl takes croc back, Sebek now  gets quiet and turns bright red when we’re around lol

Thank you lovely @anunholyabomination for requesting this! I hope you like it since it's my first time writing a fanfic lol. Remember to drink lots of water and get lots of sleep so you can stay beautiful you!

================================================

It was any normal day in Alchemy class with Sebek. He was yelling at his poor partner for being an idiot and putting the wrong ingredient into the transformation potion till thick green smoke started to form. “HUMAN! WHY ARE YOU BAC-” Before poor Sebek could possibly continue destroying his classmates' ears the caldron explodes, covering the room in the thick green smoke. Slowly the smoke clears revealing a small caiman sitting where Sebek should have been standing.

Here you were peacefully sitting in Ramshackle relaxing on your very much needed day off when you heard a knock at the door. You gently move Grim off of your chest, careful not to wake the sleeping cat thing. You still had no idea what kind of species to identify Grim as. He could be a feline- aaaand now the knocking on the door is even louder and frantic. “Coming! Hold on!” You quickly responded as you rushed to open the door. You opened the door to reveal an equally tired looking Crewel holding a bundled up blanket that seemed to be emitting chirping like sounds…wait was that a caiman?! “Here pup, take care of him for me” Crewel simply shoved the bundled up caiman into your arms and leaves.

“But I don’t- sigh well I guess I’m gonna have to figure out how to take care of you myself.” You look down at the small caiman and coo at its cute little face. “Awww, you’re just a little guy~ Oh! I should totally give you a cute name to fit that little face!”. Poor Sebek, now he has to be cuddled by this human! Well maybe the cuddles won't be that bad. “Hmmm, y’know you remind me a lot of friends….plus you’re just as cute as him!” The caiman looks up at you as if he understood who you were talking about. “Your name should be like his, what about Seby?” Yuu looked into the caiman’s eyes and understood it didn’t seem to enjoy the name. “Don’t judge me! I’m bad at names…” You pout, trying to think of a name the small creature would enjoy. “What about Sebok then?” The caiman moves its head as if it was nodding. “Sebok it is!” You held Sebok close and kissed his little snoot. You had put Sebok on the couch and wrapped him up in more blankets so he would stay warm since you remembered how an Australian guy on tv had said caiman have to stay at least around 97 degrees and no more than 104 degrees. “I wonder how a caiman possibly got into NRC especially when it feels like the dead of winter out there.” You look down at Sebok and giggle when he starts to make the same chirping like sound from earlier. “I really should send a picture of your cute little face to Sebek, you’re just too adorable!” You lean down and start kissing Sebok’s little head while making exaggerated kissing sounds. Thankfully Grim was still asleep so he couldn’t see this disgustingly sweet action and get jealous. Sebok didn’t seem to mind the kisses that much, he actually seemed to enjoy them. 

A few hours passed of you showering Sebok in kisses and cuddles. “Oh my! It’s already past twelve!” You quickly pick up Sebok and the somehow still sleeping Grim and head upstairs to your room. You placed both Grim and Sebok on the bed before looking through your dresser to find some sleepwear. You start to undress and take off your undergarments so you could put on clean ones. Once you finish changing you turn around and find Sebok frozen in place. “Oh? Are you ok little one? Are you cold?” You sit down on the bed and put Sebok in your lap. “I’ll warm you up” You smile as Sebok nuzzles into your body and slowly starts to drift off. When the small caiman finally falls into a slumber you pull the covers over the two of you and slowly start to fall asleep yourself.

It has been a week since Crewel had taken Sebok from you. Even though you only took care of the caiman for a day you felt really attached to him. You also noticed how Sebek would blush when he was near you. The poor thing would always storm off while hiding his boner. Perhaps one of these days he would get rid of this burden by telling you how he feels….well of course after he’s had some fun with you in the janitor's closet or an empty classroom. If not Lilia will have to intervene so he can get the grandchildren he wants. Hm? Why did you get an invitation from Sebek to come have tea at Diasomnia?

[sweatyracoon]

Notes: Welcome to the second part! I’m sorry it took so long, I’ve been hella busy. But I hope you all enjoy this piece. I’d like to hear some feedback on what you’d all like for the other members when it comes their time!

Warnings: language, fluff, nicknames

You stretched your neck after closing your door behind you, exhausted from working twelve hours.

It was common that you worked overtime, especially since people have been quitting.

You hopped in the shower, washing the tiredness away. You put on your sweats and walked towards the kitchen to eat something.

You felt like something was missing. Forgetting something. It took you a while to figure it out before you saw your computer sitting on the desk in front of your bed.

The game!

Your eyes widened, all need for sleep vanishing in an instant.

You paced towards it quickly, booting it up while you got comfortable.

The same pixelated screen appeared, the clouds still annoying as ever.

Once you saw the name list, you stopped yourself. Should you speak to Bangchan again?

He did tell you to meet the others, by you were unsure.

Then you remembered that he said all eight of them have different coding. What did you need right now?

Comfort, you decided. It's been a long day.

You clicked.

Felix <

The computer went blank once again, making your breath hitch.

You waited patiently for Felix, tapping your fingers against your chair.

The screen changed, and it was then that you noticed the background was different.

Chan's was a light pink, but this one is a pale blue with white specs.

Then a hand popped up from the bottom of the screen.

"Hi! You're y/n, right? Chan told me about you!" Then he lifted his head and torso into the frame, and you nearly died from how cute he was.

The HD graphics helped you see every bit of him. His gorgeous eyes, his blonde hair and brown roots, his freckles.

You wished he were real.

"What?" You asked stupidly, your brain turning to static as you stared at him with a blank face.

"Are you not y/n?" His tone turned doubtful, his bottom lip jutting out in confusion.

"No I am, I just...you can talk to Chan even when the computers off?"

Now it was his turn to look at you without an expression.

"I guess? Never thought about it?"

You squint.

"Your guys' coding is crazy," you mumbled to yourself.

He smiled, his eyes glistening in whatever light source he has.

"Thank you!" He giggles, making you smile.

"Sure,"

He tilted his head, folding his hood over his blonde locks.

"So what brings you here? I'm not the file after Chanies, I know that," His voice was so deep and smooth, it was almost like a numbing balm against your fatigue.

"Oh! Uh, he said you are a good comfort person," When you said it like that, it made you sound like an idiot. You cringed, but he just smiled.

"I'll try my best, darling,"

You nearly choked.

You brought your hand to your eyes, trying your best to rub the sleep from them.

"Ah, your tired? Long day?"

He looked concerned, leaning closer to the screen.

"Yeah, it's been a nightmare at work. And the hours are god awful,"

He gave you a face of pity.

"At least your making that money!" He said in a strange voice, making you laugh suddenly.

Which was his goal.

He smiled, soon joining your contagious laughter.

"Your right about that!" You responded, both of you going through another laughing fit.

"So...do you like singing?" He asked suddenly.

You blinked twice.

"I can't sing-" you cringed, thinking about it.

He smiled.

"I can. Want me to sing you to sleep?" He tilted his head.

You blinked again, your face softening. You nodded.

"Here, lay on your bed. When I see your comfy, I'll start," he promised.

And he did.

Once you were comfortable, you felt warmth envelope you once he started singing.

His voice didn't seem to belong to him, he looked too pure, but hearing him sing made you forget about that.

It was his, and you didn't want it to change.

It lasted longer than you thought, but maybe because he was just AI. Whatever it was, you knew you could have him sing to you every night.

You drifted off, eventually falling into a deep sleep, leaving him to sing for but a few more minutes before he started talking to the edge of the screen.

The last thing you remember hearing was,

"Wait till you meet her, Hyung!"

Tag list: @estella-novella @deadpool15 @matchacha65 @foreverdebbie

[sickficideas]

gotta hear me out || sick Akutagawa w/ caretaker Atsushi - chapter 4 of 5

ao3! 5.3k/20k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2024, day 30: past prompt (2022, day 27: sleepless night)

Atsushi groans when he feels himself start to wake up.

He’s surprisingly comfortable. He usually doesn’t sleep very well, either as a result of his recurring nightmares or just generally being uncomfortable - maybe it’s this mattress. It’s a lot comfier than the futon he sleeps on in his room. Has he ever even slept on an actual mattress before?

Atsushi feels his face turn bright red when he realizes he fell asleep in Akutagawa’s bed.

He sits up right away, far too quickly, but the swimming of his vision he ignores in favor of trying to decipher whether Akutagawa is awake or not. The comforter is all jumbled up, but Akutagwa is thin and could easily be hidden by it - Atsushi lifts the corner of the comforter to peek underneath, and doesn’t see him right away. In fact, he keeps lifting it, and realizes his side of the bed is cold.

He's not here.

Atsushi feels a knot form in his stomach, worried that Akutagawa is in the bathroom and throwing up once again, but he hears tableware gently clank against the countertop in the kitchen, quickly dismissing that theory.

What time is it, even?

Atsushi climbs out of the bed, a little embarrassed that he slept in his work clothes in someone else’s bed - Akutagawa’s, no less - it’s really just bad manners, and he thinks Akutagawa of all people is the worst person to do that to. He remembers he’s still stained with blood from last night, too - and while the injuries are healed now, his shirt was still soaked with blood, and staining the mattress and pillow. He thinks he’ll change the sheets for him, but he grows more concerned at seeing the time on the ornate clock on the wall over his door. It’s almost six thirty in the morning.

He hopes he’s not the reason that Akutagawa’s out of bed, and not asleep like he should be.

Atsushi sneaks toward the door. It’s still fairly dark, the cloudy weather not illuminating much, but regardless, Akutagawa never turns any of his lights on. Atsushi can still see light peaking through the holes in the door, though.

Akutagawa is standing at the counter, only a quarter of his face visible, busy with a pot of something.

Atsushi thinks he looks okay, considering everything, considering how awful he was doing last night, between the vomiting and his really unusual behavior. His skin is still really pale against his dark hair and dark clothes, clothes that are different from what he was wearing last night. His hair is still fairly dishelved, though, falling against his face -

He really doesn’t look half bad.

“You’re still here,” Akutagawa observes, pulling Atsushi back on the right track from wherever his thoughts were derailing to. He sounds indifferent, a little annoyed, but normal. Not the frightened shell of Akutagawa he saw last night.

Really, Atsushi is surprised to see him up and walking around after everything last night. “It's like, six in the morning. You should be resting.”

“I can't sleep past five. It's no use,” Akutagawa insists, pouring something into a mug. Tea, Atsushi assumes. Atsushi guesses he has trouble sleeping in general, too. He wonders if whatever happened last night is something he deals with frequently.

He’s just glad he seems okay right now.

“What are you doing?” Atsushi asks. It’s obvious, it’s just tea, but he’s finding himself trying to stir up random conversation with him. Weird.

Akuatagwa sighs. “Making tea.”

“Oh. That's good, does your stomach feel better?” Atsushi asks.

“No,” he answers simply, “would you like some?”

Atsushi deflates a bit. He's good at avoiding important conversations.

“Sure.”

Atsushi finds it strange that he even offers, he thinks he can count on two hands how many times Akutagawa has suggested he leave his apartment in the last twelve hours, and he’s not pouring any tea to-go - not that Akutagawa would ever have the courtesy - he pours it into a mug, slowly slides it across the counter of the island to the opposite side, and sits down.

Atsushi sits across from him. He can smell the tea - it’s nice, strong, clearly fresh tea leaves, too. Akutagawa being a tea-drinker doesn’t surprise him at all, and neither does the high-quality tea he drinks, but he finds himself with wide eyes, staring at Akutagawa’s mug when he watches him drop sugar cubes, one by one, into his tea until there’s four of them total.

“Whoa,” Atsushi says out loud.

Akutagawa doesn't like his reaction. He glares at him, but takes a sip of his tea regardless. “Don't judge me. You're in my house.”

“I'm just surprised,” Atsushi says, reaching over to grab the jar, “I usually put three in mine. But four seems like a lot.”

Akutagawa rolls his eyes. “Then you're just as strange as I am.”

It’s a weird thing to level on, but Atsushi almost smiles.

“Do you like sugar?” he asks, still weirdly surprised.

“Don't ask me stupid questions,” Akutagawa huffs.

“Don't call me stupid. I'm just surprised,” Atsushi tells him, “I didn't think you were the type. You seem like you'd drink black coffee.”

“I can't stand the taste of coffee. I certainly wouldn't drink it black,” he says like it’s obvious, like it’s something Atsushi has always known.

Atsushi's amused by this information, but he can't pinpoint why, exactly. It's nice to have found something that have in common, and to a bit of an extreme, it seems. Akutagawa's sweet tooth seems to almost be worse than his own. He smiles to himself, this time.

He adds his own sugar cubes to his tea and stirs it for a few seconds, watching it swirl.

“You've, uh…haven't heard from your sister, have you?”

Akutagawa stares at him for a moment before answering. He looks suspicious.

“Should I have?” he asks.

“No, just…curious,” Atsushi says, but Akutagawa is very clearly not buying it - he wonders if Akutagawa has any idea what happened.

“Have you heard from my sister?” he asks, sounding a little angry, accusatory, and Atsushi realizes he has to be up front with him before he thinks something else happened.

“You were acting weird last night,” Atsushi murmurs, trying to decide in the moment how detailed he should be. He feels the stinging pain in his shoulder as a reminder of everything - but the extra stab marks in the door should have tipped Akutagawa off, too. “Your fever got pretty bad. And you weren't making any sense.”

Akutagawa’s shoulders sink a little bit and he looks slightly concerned by this notion. His hands tighten around his tea mug, but he doesn’t say anything, confirming Atsushi’s suspicion that he likely doesn’t remember much of it.

“Nothing, like…YouTube worthy, though, don't worry,” Atsushi adds awkwardly, taking a sip of his own tea.

Akutagawa makes a face. “I'm not going to pretend to know what that means.”

There's another pause where Akutagawa takes a few sips of his tea, but Atsushi's still stuck on this conversation. He's not sure he just wants to drop this entirely.

“Are you…are you okay, though?” Atsushi starts. He feels his throat get tight, like the fabric is still wrapped around it. “You were really out of it.”

Akutagawa's staring down at his tea. Atsushi almost wonders if he's deciding whether or not he wants to indulge in this conversation at all. Atsushi realizes he was doing the same - that’s their problem with each other, they’re never up front about anything. Atsushi’s afraid of Akutaagwa’s reactions, and Akutagawa refuses to open up about anything that would make him look weak.

“I'm fine. It was probably just a nightmare,” he answers. That’s better than nothing. Atsushi figured as much, but he was very much awake that entire time.

“You don't remember it?” Atsushi asks him, brow furrowed.

Akutagawa sighs. “No. But it's always the same few things.”

Atsushi wants to ask what. He wants Akutagawa to tell him. He can imagine whatever it was is something he never wants to discuss again, whether it’s because of his ego or the trauma or what - but Atsushi wants to level with him. “Can I…can I ask what?”

Akutagawa looks like he considers telling him for a moment.

“No,” Akutagawa mumbles, “please.”

“Okay, that's fine. I'm sorry,” Atsushi says. He was probably naive to think Akuatagwa would suddenly open up to him, but maybe for now, it’s enough to know that maybe, he would have, under different circumstances. Akutagawa has a complex about looking weak to others, and he certainly wouldn’t open up about something traumatic in front of Atsushi with how he’s feeling now.

He doesn’t want pity, but that’s not what Atsushi wants to give him. He just wants to understand Akutagawa the way Akutagawa understands him. He seems to look at Atsushi like he’s an open book, and Akutagawa is a novel on a shelf so high that Atsushi can’t even reach it with a ladder.

Atsushi’s glad to know he was there to help, at the very least.

Atsushi catches sight of a little flinch from Akutagawa when he turns slightly to the window, and he remembers the injury on his shoulder. He can’t see if it’s bleeding, the black color of his sweater hides that, but he has a very hard time believing that it’s any better after what happened last night.

“Let me look at your shoulder,” Atsushi says, standing up and leaving his tea without waiting for Akutagawa’s permission, because he knows he won’t get it. Akutagawa just glares at him for a second, but not long enough to get combative. To Atsushi’s surprise, he actually pulls on the edge of his sweater for him, revealing the no-longer bandaged wound.

Atsushi tries to avoid hissing through his teeth, because it looks worse. He can’t imagine that this isn’t searing with pain right now, Atsushi wouldn’t be able to handle that at all. Akutagawa’s got same insane pain tolerance.

“This doesn't look good,” Atsushi says after a sigh through his teeth, “I think you opened it up more last night.”

Akutagawa doesn’t say anything. Atsushi uses a hand to brush some of Akutagawa’s hair behind his ear, so it’s a little easier to see the wound, and he thinks his suspicions are right. There’s fresh blood, it looks badly infected compared to before, too - Atsushi isn’t even sure where to start with this. He needs to clean it up again, but the way it’s been torn at the sides makes him think that process will be much more painful than before. He tries to pull the sweater back a bit more, thinking he needs to see the edges to see more of the extent of the damage, but he’s intercepted.

Akutagawa pulls the sweater back over his shoulder. Atsushi is frozen for a moment, hoping maybe he’s just adjusting, but he shrinks away from Atsushi.

“You should go,” Akutagawa says quietly, refusing to turn and face Atsushi.

Atsushi blinks. “What?”

“You’re putting things in my head that I don’t want to think about,” Akutagawa answers,

“Like what? That you want me dead?” Atsushi scoffs. He’s just joking, of course, thinking back on Akutagawa’s promise to not kill.

“No,” Akutagawa mumbles, standing up from his chair, putting some distance in between the two of them. Atsushi stays where he is, confused about about Akutagawa is trying to imply.

“That you don't want me dead?” Atsushi asks, quietly this time.

Akutagawa huffs. “Go. Please.”

Atsushi's shoulders sink. He doesn’t want to leave. Akutagawa isn’t doing any better, he can’t be left by himself. 

“Let me at least…clean this up for you,” Atsushi says, reaches out a hand in some attempt to make sure Akutagawa doesn’t remove himself out of his reach - not now, not after he’s leveled with him, not after everything he’s tried to do to help him.

Akutagawa whips his head around, and there’s a fury in his eyes that Atsushi has seen before. He’s confused, angry, and Atsushi knows he won’t be able to give him what ever answer he wants.

“Why are you doing this?” Akutagawa bites, backing himself into the corner of the counters like he frightened animal, his arms gripping the other like he’s trying to protect himself.

Atsushi blinks back at him.

“Doing what?” he asks, his voice quiet. He thinks it’s pretty obvious that he just wants to help him, but he knows Akutagawa won’t accept that answer. He’s worried, his eyes look different from before, closer to what he saw last night. His skin looks paler than before.

“All of this. I'm not - I'm not repairable. You can't fix me,” Akutagawa breathes out, dropping his gaze. Atsushi hears his voice break at the end. “Stop wasting your time and get out of my house.”

“I just want to make sure you're okay. That's all,” Atsushi says, wishing he would just take that for an answer.

“Why?” Akutagawa snaps.

Atsushi’s confused, now. “Why do you always need an answer for everything?”

“Because I don't understand. You don't make any sense to me. Nothing does,” he snaps back, and Atsushi swears there's tears in his eyes, but he refuses to make eye contact with him long enough to confirm that fact. “I could stop breathing tomorrow and you're wasting your time on me today. Covering some wound.”

Atsushi's heart breaks. He would never look at it that way. It’s never a waste of time.

Who taught him that?

“I don't have a reason,” Atsushi says quietly, taking one step closer, and he’ sure Akutagawa would back away further from him if he could. “But…even if you die tomorrow, that's not a reason for me to just let you suffer and leave you by yourself today.”

“Why?” he says, his voice much smaller than before.

Akutagawa eyes shine with tears, finally looking at Atsushi. Atsushi thinks he genuinely can't comprehend his reasons for any of this. He doesn't think he deserves this, much less from Atsushi.

“Listen, I…” he starts, his eyes darting away for a moment, but by the time he gains the courage to make eye contact, Akutagawa isn’t looking anymore. “I don't think I can ever repay you for what you did on the ship that day. And, I…I want to do what I can to at least try to make up for that, but…Akutagawa, you're a person who deserves to be taken care of.”

Akutagawa stares back, this doesn’t clear up anything for him, he looks like he needs to take a moment to remember to breathe. Atsushi feels guilty, because the repayment is the only way he can put it into words - but it’s not the whole truth. Atsushi doesn’t know the answer himself.

Akutagawa slaps a hand over his mouth and rushes over to the sink without much deliberation.

All that comes up is the tea, in weak, thin streams mixed with stomach bile, surely burning his throat as it comes back up. Atsushi is sure he made him feel worse with that conversation they just had, but it hasn't even been half an hour since he started drinking his tea, and now it's coming back up. He did admit he doesn’t feel any better, and this is proof of that. 

He breathes heavy over the sink, still visibly nauseous, but nothing left in his stomach anymore to throw up. He gags so hard that it sounds like it hurts.

Atsushi reaches a hand out to lay on his shoulder, even though he knows nothing he does will actually help him feel better in this moment, and Akutagawa seems to agree, because shards of the fabric of his shirt shoot out to stop Atsushi from touching him. Nothing like before - he doesn't hurt him, he doesn't even make the effort to touch him, he just wants his hands away. Atsushi lowers them to his side, and desperately tries to think of something he can do to help.

He doesn’t once consider leaving, though.

Now, Atsushi doesn’t know where to start. He needs to take care of his wound, but he has no idea where to start helping him with the nausea. He vaguely remembers seeing something about only taking that medication from last night every 24 hours on the label, not that it helped much anyway.

Dazai said he would try to call someone. He’ll check his phone in a minute and see if he’s heard back from him.

Akutagawa lowers himself back down onto the floor, leaning against the cabinet, his head in his hands. Atsushi watches him shake, but it’s covered up by his coughs soon enough. It almost sounds like he can’t stop - he’s sure he’s irritated his throat more by throwing up again, but thankfully, it dies down soon enough.

Atsushi kneels down next to him, and lays the back of his hand over his cheek to see if he can get a feel for his fever. The fabric from Akutagawa’s sweater wraps around Atsushi’s wrist, like a warning, a threat to stay away, but Atsushi acts as if he doesn’t feel it.

His skin is starting to feel hot again. Atsushi thinks that might be why he's more sensitive right now, if his fever's going back up. He lowers his hand and the fabric pulls away. Akutagawa’s knees are pulled up to his chest, and he’s sure he’d much rather be hiding his face, but he uses the energy he has left to glare at Atsushi.

“You should go back to bed. You have to rest when you're this sick,” Atsushi tells him.

“I won’t be able to sleep,” Akutagawa grumbles at him. It seems he’s given up on his attempts to get Atsushi to leave.

“But you should lay down, at least. It’s okay if you can’t fall asleep completely,” Atsushi tells him.

Akutagawa lays his head over his arms. He’s not quite ready to get moving. Atsushi sees him tremble, subtly, but just enough to Atsushi to notice. He doesn’t know why. It could be the frustration, the confusion, the pain - all, or more. Atsushi almost feels nauseous with guilt. He feels as if he doesn’t know him well enough to help him at all.

He watches him tense up, and without much warning, he keels over to the side opposite of Atsushi and chokes up a mouthful of stomach bile onto the floor. Atsushi lays a hand on his back this time, and he’s thankful to not be pushed away, but is was clear that was a result of something very painful.

He's not sure what suddenly has him in such a terrible condition. He seemed to be doing okay before, but now he's suddenly much worse.

“Hey,” Atsushi says, his hand moving to his shoulder, “it's okay if you need a minute.”

“I can't see straight,” he breathes out, visibly frustrated, but almost sounding frightened, the same tone of voice he heard last night.

Atsushi’s brow furrows. “Like, you're dizzy?”

Akutagawa isn't listening to him. He uses the drawers behind him as leverage to help himself stand up, but far too desperately, too quickly, and his eyes roll back.

Thankfully, Atsushi was completely aware of what he was trying to do, and mananges to catch him just in time to avoid the back of his head smacking against the marble countertop.

“I'll carry you back to bed, okay?” Atsushi tells him, not entirely sure if he can hear him right now - his eyes are half-open, but he gave himself a head-rush bad enough to nearly pass out. Atsushi has to make sure he stays in bed for the time being.

Akutagawa doesn’t fight him.

Atsushi manages to get him back to bed without any arguments, now that it’s clear to him Akutagawa is still conscious - it must have just been a bad dizzy spell earlier. He tries to come up with a plan in his head for now - clean his wound, get some cold packs ready for him, and then, probably beg Dazai for help. Upon briefly checking his phone, he sees no messages from him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he isn’t working on something for him.

Atsushi gets started on those few things. He cleans the wound, begrudgingly, because it’s clear now that it’s very, very painful for Akutagawa. The cleaning agent burns badly, he knows it does, it’s already awfully sensitive, but he’s managed to open it more from the last time it was cleaned. Akutagawa doesn’t cry out, he doesn’t tense up a ton, but Atsushi watches how he digs his fingernails into his own arm, like he’s trying to distract himself, redirect the pain. Like it’s something he’s used to.

“Almost done, promise,” Atsushi tells him, but that doesn’t make him relax at all. Atsushi isn’t even sure if he’s being honest himself.

He finally relaxes a little once Atsushi moves onto bandaging it up. He’s not sure how long he should keep it covered - he probably needs to clean it again soon. Would a warm compress or something help? Obviously he just needs to see a doctor, but how long will that be?

The cold washcloths are easy enough to get together, after he takes his temperature - a hundred and three even, now. He’s surprised Akutagawa is still mostly coherent - or at least, he was earlier. That’s a pretty high fever. He can feel it, too, his skin is awfully hot to the touch, his forehead, his cheeks, the back of his neck, too. The cold cloths don’t relax him much. He can imagine it’s too jarring of a change, but he needs to do something to get his temperature down.

“Can you lift up your head?” Atsushi asks, returning with a towel from the bathroom. “I'm just gonna put a towel here in case you throw up again.”

Akutagawa can hardly even manage that. Atsushi has to lay a hand under the back of his head to make sure he doesn't drop back down, but it’s easy enough. Atsushi just wants to make things a little faster in case that happens again.

“I wonder how the storm’s going out there…” Atsushi says to himself, sitting criss-crossed on the bed beside Akutagawa, who has hardly make any conscious efforts to move since Atsushi brought him here. Everything seems to be out of pain - he’s awfully tense.

“I'm sorry,” Akutagawa says quietly.

“For what?” Atsushi asks him. He wants to make a joke, but he's really worried about his well being. He's doing really bad. This can't be some normal stomach virus or flu that he’s dealing with, and if it is, that's a whole other problem.

Atsushi realizes he's crying. His expression hasn’t changed, he just looks completely indifferent, exhausted, but Atsushi can still see the tears slide down the sides of his face. He tenses up, eyes screwing shut.

“Hey, wait - are you okay? Does something hurt?” Atsushi stammers. Akutagawa doesn’t answer him, and he’s not surprised by that. He’s made it very clear, in fact, that he’s wanted him gone from his home - but the apology deeply concerns Atsushi. That’s not like him. It must be the fever.

Dazai needs to help them.

Atsushi excuses himself for a minute to step out of Akutagawa’s bedroom and call Dazai. He doesn’t want to waste time sending him messages and waiting for replies, he needs Akutagawa to get help now - so he dials his number.

It rings,

rings,

rings, 

and goes to voicemail.

Atsushi feels sick to his stomach now, wondering why on earth Dazai won’t pick up. He needs his help. Akutagawa needs to go to a hospital, a doctor, something. He tries to compose himself long enough to leave a voice mail for him.

“Hey, it’s - it’s Atsushi again, I…Akutagawa needs a hospital, Dazai, something’s really wrong,” Atsushi says, biting his lip to kepe his composure, “please…please come help. I don’t know what to do.”

He clicks to hang up, and just hopes and prays that Dazai will hear it. He doesn’t think Akutagawa’s life is in any danger, but it’s still really difficult to see him like this, to see him tear up from the pain he’s in. He’s not sure how much longer he can assume his life isn’t in danger.

He quietly lets himself back into Akutagawa’s bedroom, where he’s still breathing shaky and shallow, tensing up from the pain he's in. He's not entirely sure where the pain is coming from - his stomach, his injury, something else entirely, but it's almost unbearable for him. Atsushi watches his eyes shine with tears each time. He turns on his side, arms wrapped around his abdomen.

“Hey,” Atsushi says gently, sat on the bed beside him and one hand on his shoulder, “I'm - I’m really worried about how you're doing. And I don't know what to do to help you.”

It’s something he’s not sure he wanted to admit, but dancing around the subject will only guarantee that Akutagawa will do the same.

“I've been fine,” Akutagawa says, taking in a shallow, shaky breath, “by myself.”

“You haven't been fine, Akutagawa.  If you've been in anywhere near as bad shape as you've been while I've been here, you're not fine,” he tells him, brushing some longer pieces of his hair from his face, tucking them behind his ear. “You're really sick.”

Akutagawa’s body shakes and he coughs a few times, tensing up and moving away from Atsushi with the little room he has to do so.

“What about that blonde woman you work with?” Atsushi asks. He won’t let Akutagawa win.

“Higuchi isn’t my nurse,” Akutagawa grumbles.

“I’m not your nurse either. I still wanna help you,” Atsushi reminds him. “If you tell me her number or like, where I could contact her, maybe she can help you, or she knows someone who could - ”

Akutagawa cries out from the pain this time, curling up tight on himself. Atsushi considers in that moment going through Akutagawa’s contacts and looking for someone to help, but he doesn’t have any idea where it is - he hasn’t seen him use it once since he got here, not that he can recall, anyway.

Atsushi gently rubs his upper arm, knowing it won’t do much, but he’ll lose his mind if he just sits there and does nothing.

“Everything hurts,” Akutagawa breathes out quietly. “I just - want it to be over…”

The admission of all of that is the nail in the coffin. Atsushi has to do something. He won’t just sit here and let him suffer. Akutagawa wouldn’t ever admit being in pain if something wasn’t horribly wrong.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Atsushi tells him, his voice shaking as he speaks before he climbs out of the bed and into his living area. He needs to find his cell phone.

He checks a few different places. First, the coats on his coat hanger, the pockets - but there’s nothing there. He rammages through things that could be commonly used drawers in his kitchen, but there’s nothing there, either. He hopes for maybe even a phone book, but he imagines that’s not something mafia members can keep, that’s too much of a liability. He wonders if Akutagawa’s cellphone would even have contacts in it for the same reason, and if it did, would they have the correct names attached?

While he’s looking through more kitchen drawers, he remembers something.

He used to have Higuchi’s number himself. He called it once, from a phone booth, in his first few days at the Agency. He probably still has it in his bag. It’s just over by the couch, that’s the last he saw it, but when he makes it to the living room, he sees Akutagawa’s bedroom door close just a bit, like someone just walked inside and is closing the door behind them.

Atsushi feels his stomach jump up into his throat when he realizes someone else is in the apartment.

That can’t have been Akutagawa. He’s too weak to even stand himself up, let alone close the door, and he’s fairly certain he did that already when he initially came out here to look. He supposes it’s a possibility that Akutagawa just used Rashomon - maybe Atsushi didn’t close the door enough, and now he’s making too much noice - but when he focuses his senses, he hears another set of footsteps. Someone else breathing.

But there’s no combat from Akutagawa’s end. Sure, he’s suffering quite a bit, but he can’t imagine that if this is someone unfamiliar, he would be completely motionless.

Regardless, Atsushi pushes the door in, both arms transformed, just in case - and standing by his bedside is someone familiar, at least in passing - a man with a hat and red hair.

“The Weretiger's here?” Chuuya says to himself with an annoyed glare, hands in his pockets. “Makes sense, I guess.”

He's only had a few chance encounters with this man, and he's got a real threatening presence despite his smaller size. It’s enough just to know he’s an executive of the Port Mafia. Atsushi wasn't aware Chuuya even knew that Akutagawa existed.

Could it be Dazai sent him here?

“Chuuya,” Akutagawa breathes out. Atsushi sees the way that he tenses up, trying to sit himself up but collapsing back onto the bed from the pain it causes him. Atsushi almost thinks he's trying to put on a show for him, trying to be respectful or look professional - he doesn't know. He can understand where he’s coming from, but he thought he had given up on the facade for now, at least.

“Stop that, stay where you are,” Chuuya tells him, turning himself toward Akutagawa, laying a hand on his chest and forcing him back down. “I've been trying to contact you for days. You need’a stop holeing yourself up like this.”

Atsushi is relieved beyond belief that someone is here to help him, but he wonders about their connection.

“You…know Akutagawa?” he asks quietly, taking a few steps closer.

“Tch,” Chuuya huffs. “I've known him longer than you, punk.”

Akutagawa avoids eye contact with both of them. It seems like he’s at a point where he’s too exhausted to do that in the first place, but his guard seems lowered. As if, for some reason, he doesn’t feel like he needs to keep up appearances around Chuuya, even after trying to sit himself up. Like he feels safe around him.

Chuuya gently lays the back of his hand against Akutagawa’s hot forehead, wincing at the feeling. Atsushi’s sure it’s worse than before.

“How long's he been this sick for?” Chuuya asks him, turning his head to face him.

“Over a week, at least,” Atsushi says. “I’m not…really sure.”

Chuuya just nods, and without much effort at all, he scoops Akutagawa out of the bed, careful to avoid the spot where his bad wound is. He wonders how he knew about that.

“Will you - can you take him to the Port Mafia infirmary?” Atsushi asks desperately as Chuuya heads for the bedroom door, and Akutagawa makes no effort to move. He’s not sure if he’s not able to, or if he just knows Chuuya won’t let him fight his way out.

“That's why I'm here, tiger-boy,” Chuuya sighs, sounding a little annoyed, like it’s obvious.

Atsushi blinks as he follows behind him. “So…you knew?”

“Dazai told me this morning,” Chuuya says. “He's been throwin’ up and he's got an infected injury. Right?”

Atsushi nods. He feels relieved, but he can’t ignore the knot forming in his stomach. He should be happy that someone’s finally here to help him, but he’s not sure why he feels this way instead.

Is it because he knows he’s dying?

Is it because he knows that even if this is just a flu or a stomach virus, that it could still be really bad for him, that it’s still possible he might not recover completely? Maybe he’s just being irrational, he doesn’t know - but he doesn’t want to leave him.

After all, Akutagawa said he’s never told anyone about his limited time left.

He watches Chuuya take Akutagawa to the door as he picks up his own messenger bag, and holds it close to his chest, like it’s there to comfort him.

This is good. Someone is finally here to help Akutagawa, to get him medical attention.

So, why is he so desperately trying to hold back tears?

[liaromancewriter]

Snowed In

Premise: There’s a winter storm pummeling Boston and a polar vortex bringing arctic air and….

Fandom: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Format: Text & Pic Fic + Prose Words: 785

A/N: I meant to post this on Sunday evening just as a snowstorm hit Boston since the fic is set in real time. But, I got busy vegging on the couch. lol Submission for @choicesjanuary2025 prompt "snowfall"

Part 1: The Snowstorm

Part 2: The Wind Down

Winter was a bitch. Nothing could make Cassie Valentine change her mind about that.

If the snowstorm that pummeled Boston wasn’t bad enough, the weatherman was now chirping much too cheerily about the blast of arctic air descending upon them.

Before clocking into work earlier in the day, Cassie had to gingerly navigate the slick road and icy sidewalk from the T to the staff entrance at the side of the hospital.

Lately, she and Ethan had been driving to work together. But today, their schedules hadn’t aligned, leaving her to miss out on the warm comfort of his luxury sedan.

Maybe she should cave and buy a car—or have her parents send her old Cayenne down. She just hated driving in Boston, with its horrendous traffic and aggressive drivers. The subway, ride-sharing or letting her husband chauffeur her around suited her just fine.

Cassie grabbed a snack from the attending’s lounge, glanced at her wristwatch, and calculated that she had just enough time for a power nap in her office. Rather than tackling the stairs to the seventh floor, her exhausted legs opted for the elevator.

She had been run off her feet for the past twelve hours, but now it was two o’clock in the morning — that in-between time when the hospital fell quiet before interns and residents began their pre-rounds.

Letting out a loud yawn, Cassie reached inside the coat closet for a throw blanket and pillow she kept for those occasions when she needed to be on call. Lowering the blinds of her glass-walled office, she settled onto the couch and closed her eyes.

Her brain was wired, though, and sleep eluded her. After ten minutes, she gave up and unlocked her phone for some joy scrolling (her version of doom scrolling) on Picta.

She laughed at her friends’ comments on recent posts, replied to ones she’d missed earlier, and switched to the latest celeb gossip feeds.

Between trying to guess the subjects of blind items and commiserating with other fans over their favorite singer’s breakup, she didn’t hear the office door slide open.

“Can’t sleep?” Ethan asked, stepping in and joining her on the couch.

He gently lifted her legs and placed them across his lap, sprawling wide with his legs outstretched and his head resting on the back cushions.

“You look like hell, babe,” Cassie teased, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the overgrown scruff along his jawline.

Ethan made a face but didn’t respond.

“The snow’s tapered off,” he said, stifling a yawn. “We can head home as soon as the roads are clear.”

“I’m leading morning rounds and have consults scheduled in the afternoon,” Cassie said, sitting up and leaning her head on his shoulder. “It’s easier if I stay here tonight.”

She nestled against him, pulling the throw blanket over both of them, and sighed as his warmth surrounded her.

Cassie could feel sleep creeping up on her, her eyes drifting shut, when Ethan chuckled, his deep voice rumbling beneath her.

“So, you hate the storm, the polar vortex, and wish we were back in Hawaii, huh?”

“How is it that you never comment on my Picta posts, yet always know exactly what’s going on?” Cassie retorted, angling her face to meet Ethan’s smiling eyes.

“Because I’m… what did you call me once? Ah, yes. Your Picta Stalker,” he laughed. “Whenever I’m bored, I just scroll your feed. You’re more entertaining than anything else on that infernal app.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “I know you mean that to be flattering, but why do I feel insulted instead?”

Ethan shrugged, jostling her in the process. She wrapped an arm across his stomach, her fingers curling lightly against his side.

“I hate winter,” she murmured sleepily. “Let’s blow this joint, move to Hawaii and live off my trust fund.”

“You’d hate it,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You were jonesing for work after three days on the beach.”

“I was an idiot then. I’ve learned my lesson now.”

“That’s the polar vortex talking,” Ethan quipped.

“Oh, shut up,” Cassie muttered.

After that, a comfortable silence stretched between them, neither feeling the need to fill the quiet with words.

“This is nice.”

“What is?” Ethan asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“This. Us. Just doing nothing,” Cassie said. “When we first met, I don’t think I ever imagined we’d be here like this. Not just together, but quietly comfortable. It’s nice.”

She could hear Ethan’s slow, even breathing as he drifted into sleep and wasn’t expecting a response.

Still, her heart skipped a beat when he murmured under his breath, “It’s more than nice. It’s perfect.”

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash @lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @loreofyore

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 9

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

The night and the morning thereafter was one big journey through what felt like every emotion. You laughed, cried, shared intimate details about yourself, held one another and made love. It was a cycle on repeat throughout those twelve hours or more.

Neither of you had gotten to sleep until close to three in the morning. The mental and physical exhaustion left you in bed, asleep, until close to eleven the next morning. For you, sleeping in that late was rare, but certainly welcomed.

You felt completely transformed; renewed. In all of your life you had never been so completely open, honest and vulnerable with someone. Joel, you decided, was just one of those souls you were meant to connect with. No one could convince you otherwise.

When you awoke with his body wrapped up around yours beneath the covers, you had the thought of never wanting to leave. How were you supposed to just go casually about your day after a night like that?

Maybe I should call out tonight, you thought. It had been a long time since you did that and felt like you were due. You felt a little crazy but you didn't want to be away from Joel. You wanted to be by his side for as long as he'd let you.

You locked your fingers with his across your midsection and Joel squeezed your hand.

"You're going to have to be the one to break things off if you get tired of this," Joel spoke from behind you. His voice was gravelly and tired. "Because I'm not capable." He pulled you closer and slipped one of his feet in between yours.

"I think I should call out of work tonight." You rolled over to face him with a smile. "I can treat you to dinner this time somewhere.. in the next town over maybe where everyone isn't an asshole."

"Are you trying to buy me?" Joel teased.

"No, I just don't want to lose you." You smiled into a kiss, pleased when he smiled back. Joel appeared just as refreshed as you felt and the air felt lighter.

"Do you, uh, have enough clothes for a second night, or..?"

"I can make arrangements." You accepted another kiss and then Joel playfully rolled his body on top of yours.

When his phone buzzed on the nightstand, you both turned and he gave an annoyed grunt. You pulled him back to you.

"Leave it," you urged, pulling him back to you.

The phone continued to buzz and you finally gave in.

"I guess it's urgent." You smiled and Joel looked at you with apologetic eyes as he reached to the nightstand.

"Shit."

"What?" You leaned up onto your elbows.

"It's Ronnie. He's called me like three times, I didn't hear it."

"Is everything okay?"

Joel nodded. "His mother needs his help, she's older.." he shook his head. "He asked if I could come in just for a couple hours."

"Oh, yeah, of course," you said to him. "Go. I'm glad you picked up."

Joel laid down flat on his back and ran a hand through his hair. "Shit," he repeated.

You smiled and placed a hand on his chest, propping yourself up with your elbow and a hand on your cheek. "I guess this is to be continued."

"Yeah.." he said reluctantly.

"Is the offer still up for tonight?"

Joel's eyes shifted to meet yours. "Yeah." He placed a hand over yours. "We still on for dinner?"

You nodded and kissed him firmly on the lips. "I'll bring you something to eat for lunch, too, while you're at the garage," you added, "If you want."

"You don't mind?"

You shook your head. "And I guess it'll give me a chance to scoot home to get more clothes."

"Get a few pairs." Joel looked at you directly as he said that and you kissed him again.

"Mmm.." you smiled against his lips. "Don't tempt me."

"I mean it." Joel pulled you body so you were half on top of him.

You sensed the seriousness return to his voice and it gave you goosebumps, mainly because he seemed to be on the exact same page as you were mentally.

"I will." You gave a little smile. "You really want me to?"

Joel nodded against the pillow and you let the next kiss linger before pushing back off of him.

"Go help your friend," you said to him. "I'll bring you down something in a little bit. Text me what you might like."

"Thank you." Joel pecked your lips. "Want to plan to meet me back here at four?"

"Sounds like a plan."

..

As much as you wanted to indulge in and discuss your night with Joel, you were kind of thankful that none of your roommates were home. You felt like you needed more time to process everything, though your phone had been lighting up with texts from Jessie.

You gave her some simple, yet truthful, yes and no answers to her questions and vowed to give her all the details when you saw her.

"How many outfits?" You asked yourself aloud before just starting to toss whatever would fit into the duffle bag.

Joel texted you a short while later asking if you'd mind grabbing him a turkey grinder. You replied with the name of your favorite deli and a question mark before heading down the the little mom & pop store.

When you pushed inside there were a few stray customers but the line wasn't long. Your eyes scanned the giant whiteboard above the counter as you searched for what you might want to eat.

"Can I help you?" An older, Italian woman asked from behind the register. She adjusted a pair of glasses.

"Yes, um.." you looked at the message from Joel and put his order in before deciding on a six inch tuna for yourself. When you reached for a couple bags of chips, one dropped to the floor.

Before you could pick it up, someone else was reaching for it and handing it over.

"Thanks," you said, turning back toward the register.

"You don't recognize me, do you?"

You looked at him more directly and when he removed a ball cap you thought his features looked familiar.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I have such a bad memory-"

"No clue huh?"

You squinted your eyes when you sensed his tone was mildly aggravated. At the same time you handed over your debit card to the woman.

"Vic Champagne."

The last name made you freeze in place. Goosebumps traveled the length of your back and you tried not to give him a reaction.

"It'll be five-ten minutes," the cashier told you, handing over a receipt for you to sign.

"Thanks." You signed quickly, grabbed the chip bags back and then distanced yourself from Vic. It was virtually impossible in such a small establishment.

When he ordered his food next, you hoped he'd go away, but soon after he returned to your side.

"You were the asshole at the bar," you said, not wanting to back down. "John Champagne's brother."

He shook his head and looked at you with disgust written all over his face. "What are you even doing?"

"Buying lunch, what's it look like?"

"You know what I mean. What the fuck are you doing hanging around that murderer?"

"He's not a murderer," you added, "And you can go to hell."

When you turned he jumped back in your line of vision. He was close enough to whisper without anyone hearing much of what he was saying.

"You're on the right path to outcasting yourself. You know that? Everyone saw you run out of the bar after that psychopath."

"And?" You looked him directly in the eye and Vic finally cracked a sinister smile.

"And maybe you should keep better company."

"Maybe you should mind your own business." You should have bit your tongue but you couldn't help it any longer. "The only psychopath was-"

Vic's jaw clenched. "Was..?"

"Just go away Vic." You marched back up toward the Italian woman, noting he wouldn't continue to harass you in her presence.

Your sandwiches came and you left the place without even glancing in Vic's direction. But there was no such luck. You felt him trail you out of the place.

"You don't want to go down this road," he shouted after you.

"What road?" You placed a hand out to the side.

"The road out of this town. Nobody wants him here and you can follow him right the fuck out too if you support Mr. Aggravated Murder." He nodded to himself, looked right at you, and then turned to walk back into the deli. Through the glass door he continued to glare in your direction until you finally walked out of his view.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 10

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3

[team-118]

23, 27 & 91 for the spotify wrapped ask! <3

hiiii marthe!! I have 91 - you don't go to parties, 5sos - for you rn let's see when the others float in.

on ao3.

Buck was going to look under the couch, but then he got stuck on it. It’s so late and Eddie’s couch is so comfy, even if it feels a little out of place in Buck’s loft. He’s used to rolling over to be faced with the Diazs’ doorway, not his own window. It’s just strange. The whole thing is strange.

And his mouth tastes really, really bad.

Buck blinks sleep out of his eyes, rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself up. As awareness fades in, so too do the voices in his living room. He stands up, wobbly, and makes his way back to the 118.

“Oh, there he is,” Chimney hollers. “Man of the hour!”

Buck crashes into him, wrapping him up in his arms. “What’d I do?”

“It’s the fruit tarts you baked,” Maddie tries to whisper conspiratorially. She misses the mark by multiple decibels. “He’s eaten half the tray.”

Buck smiles down at him. “Happy new year, Chim.”

When Chimney grins back, he’s got blueberries in his teeth. Buck doesn't tell him.

“You are all so, so loud,” Hen scolds. She’s halfway down the stairs, having just finished checking on the kids. It’s unfair how put together she is, even when she’s drunk.

“Hen, come on,” Bobby laughs. “It’s like five in the morning, they’ve been knocked out for hours.”

“No thanks to all of you,” Karen snickers.

Buck feels like a fly on the wall, watching his family giggle and bicker into the early hours of the morning. He turns to Eddie, already smiling at the fond expression he knows he’ll find on Eddie’s face.

And then it all comes flooding back.

Eddie isn’t here. Eddie hasn’t been here for weeks. Eddie’s in El Paso, and Buck’s in LA, and Buck had gotten so incredibly drunk in an attempt to forget about the twelve hours between them.

He went to look for Eddie on the couch, before he fell asleep there. If he closed his eyes on that couch, it still kind of felt like Eddie would be there when he opened them.

Buck wonders what Eddie is doing, right now. Five AM in LA is just six in El Paso, which means Eddie’s probably about to wake up, and maybe he’ll have baked muffins from the list of recipes Buck had sent over and it’ll make Chris smile on their way to school. Maybe Eddie will kiss Chris on the forehead before driving to work, and he’ll bring the rest of the muffins for his new coworkers and they’ll all compliment his cooking, but they won’t know that the recipe is actually his- his Buck’s.

Suddenly, he feels vaguely sick.

“I’m just gonna - um,” Buck manages, before bursting onto the balcony. He gasps for breath. LA is waking up underneath him. It’s not fair. That should be Eddie.

“You all good?” Karen’s voice is in his ear.

Buck jumps. “Yeah, I just, y’know,” he gulps. “Needed some air.”

“Hm,” Karen ponders, in that all-knowing way of hers that’s a little scarier when Buck’s inhibitions are lowered. He feels transparent. “What are you thinking about?”

He huffs, cool air making clouds of condensation in front of him. “Family, I guess. Last year, everything we’ve been through.”

“It’s been a tough one,” Karen sympathizes.

“Yeah, but at least we’ve got each other, right?” Buck sighs, and he can only make himself half-believe the platitude. “At least we’re all here together.” He doesn’t meet Karen’s gaze.

She’s silent for a long, long time. The sun won’t be up for another two hours. He looks out at the apartments surrounding him, lights flickering on, and he misses Eddie and Chris so devastatingly that it knocks the wind out of his lungs.

“Buck,” Karen says finally, hushed. “Who are you looking for?”

He swallows. “I don’t know,” he lies.

[sophiacloud28]

The Break Down of Cassandra Jones Junior and Figuring Out His Age

Well, everyone. Welcome back to another deep dive into the characters of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. This is not one I thought I was going to make — in fact, the only reason why I'm doing this one is because it's so present in my sleep-deprived mind at the moment — but this is one I now find interesting due to an image that was brought to my attention. Namely, this one.

And I have words. God, do I have words for the hell this boy goes through in what is essentially twelve hours.

Before that, though. I would like to give a shoutout to heybuwan on Youtube for the Character Analysis they did about a year ago. It gives an excellent start to the one I'm about to drop. To those who want to watch the video, please do. It is excellent and explains a lot as to what's happening with Casey Jones Jr.

Now! Unto deconstructing his personality until there is nothing left of him. Leggo!

The first thing I would like to start with is his age. And yes I know the main creator said this:

But I would like to narrow it down. In fact, according to what we know, I'm pretty sure we can establish that Casey is on the younger range of that spectrum. How? I know this will sound like a strange argument, but this is where he was raised.

Now, has anyone been keeping up with the recent events in Gaza? The fact that houses have been razed and there are only children left? And that some of them are so young or so traumatized, they can't remember their names so they will be raised never knowing where they came from? The same thing applies here.

Casey Junior is a child that is growing way too fast thanks to outside trauma. And not to mention that, out of all the turtles he could have bonded with, it was Leo who won that lottery. Yes, it provides him excellent protection since Leonardo Hamato is the leader of the resistance, but it also provides him a front-row seat to see how everything is fairing, and by the time he's twenty, Casey Jr, considering his behavior and empathy, would have likely started to not only internalize the lessons Leo was showing him, but emulating them since he would have likely been selected as their next leader should Leo die.

And stop me if you put this one together, but I think Leo is very much aware of his mortality at the beginning of the movie. Hell, had the first scene of the movie not been everything falling apart, I'm sure there would have been discussions over it because guess what, the deleted scene talks about whether or not Casey is ready to go into the past and he's not. Why? Because Casey is still a child. A teenager and I don't have to go to the deleted scene to prove it. I just have to go through the first few minutes of the movie.

He's "learned from the best". And the only one to vocalize anything as Master Michelangelo proceeds to destroy himself to send him back in time. And while both of them are devastated.

Casey is the only one to outwardly react. Leo knows it's necessary. Casey can't accept a reality in which his two last mentors are so vulnerable, they both die for him.

So where does that put Casey Jr. on the age spectrum? Maybe eighteen at most. He's been well protected, but far from isolated from the devastation of war. He's at the cusp of understanding the important things his Sensei left him with, but with how everything happens, he gets stuck in a very, very dangerous place.

Because this boy has just been given his first big mission all while being the last remnant of a team that will never exist (again, if you haven't, go watch the video. It explains this in better detail!).

And so, he hits the first stage. Denial. He approaches April without ever taking his mask off and shows the enthusiasm of a child when meeting the turtles we know. He goes hard on it, too, acting like the mission is the only important thing.

Because the turtles can take of themselves, right? Right?

Wrong. And oh god is Casey proven wrong here. Leo, his Sensei, is in shambles, and while it doesn't completely register, it starts happening. These are not the same turtles he knew. They're younger, weaker, and, most of all, a lot more emotionally vulnerable.

So he tries for acceptance. It's only been eight to ten hours at this point, but he has to move on. A good display of maturity, all while showing the weaknesses of his younger age, because in the fight and the scene that follow it...

He dives right back into denial but from a different angle. Casey compares Leo to his older self, the one the former knows but hasn't quite grasped that, hey, there's a reason Master Leonardo was that way. It's not there yet, and it isn't in a fashion that tells us that it's something Casey has not explored yet, which, by the age of 20, he should have already started by then.

By the end of this scene, though, he's starting to get it. He's starting to understand because when Leo makes his ultimate move.

He still calls Leo Sensei. He's still very, very much treating Leo with absolute respect, certainly after Leonardo has finally, finally stepped into his own. But he does two things that he would have never, ever been able to do at the beginning of the movie. He says he can't lose Leo again, meaning it's still the struggle it was. However, he also pulls the plug as asked. He's not quite done processing what the hell happened to him (And who the hell can blame him, it's been twelve hours.) but he's shifting towards the position both his masters were in at the beginning of the movie.

So, no Mr. Corcillo, this boy is not twenty. He's in eighteen at most. And you can pry that away from my cold, dead hands. Besides...

You can't tell me this would be the face or the reaction of a twenty-year-old, even if he's eating pizza for the first time. 🤣

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 12/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN

ELEVEN

PART TWELVE

                “Conversation go that well hmm?”

                “What?” Jake asks, and he’s distracted, pretty sure he’s going to need to jerk off before he’ll be able to get to sleep, certain he can still feel Bradley’s fingers on his skin, unable to really process anything more than his mom standing there in her dressing gown and talking to him.

                “You’re going to have hell in makeup tomorrow…”

                “Huh?”

                “Oh Jake… I’m happy for you honey.”

                He freezes then, because he hasn’t said anything and he looks at her and she’s just watching him, expression amused and he guesses he’s been a little distracted since he got home, but not massively so… He managed to ride home, settle Blitzen in her stall, all while sporting a semi which is now quickly disappearing in the face of his mother talking to him. Thank fuck for small mercies.

                “Happy about what exactly?”

                “Well, you didn’t have that beard rash at dinner. Twenty-four hours. Amazing what you can achieve with a little motivation isn’t it?”

                Oh god. He hadn’t realized that his face and neck would be literal red flags, broadcasting his recent activity. His mom is fat too observant and has always simply known when he had been making out with people. Years as a high school teacher and recognizing bullshit probably help. He groans.

                “You’re an unholy terror.”

                “And proud of the fact sweetie. Proud of you too. Well done on using your words.”

                Jakes grins, doesn’t mention that there weren’t a lot of words exchanged, not ones that he can repeat in polite company anyway, and his mom will believe whatever she wants, regardless of what he says right now.

                “Yeah, we like each other. It’s good.”

                “Good. Now I just need to get him to accept that dinner invite.”

                “Yeah, good luck with that one mom.”

…            …            …

                “Okay, what is going on. You’re smiling at Jake Seresin rather than just watching him with that slightly… mournful look.”

                “What’s more interesting is he’s smiling back,” Bob says, spooning more oatmeal into his mouth and Bradley loves working with his friends, he really does, but sometimes he also wishes they just didn’t quite know him so well. Maybe he should spend some time with some of the other teams, allow himself some distance if this whole thing doesn’t pan out. It’s not like Bob couldn’t take over from him here.

                “It wasn’t mournful,” Bradley mutters, taking a sip of his tea. “Considering maybe.”

                “Considering how much you want him maybe…” Natasha mutters, voice low and Bradley rolls his eyes, but also he can’t outright deny it either, because they’d all know he was lying. There’s a difference between being attracted to someone and wanting them to actually acting on it though. Last night was a revelation of the best sort and while they hadn’t had a chance to talk it had felt full of promise and potential, more to come, a prologue rather than an epilogue and the way Jake keeps catching his eye and smiling across the dining hall makes him feel surer about that fact.

                “Mind if I join you?” Javy Machado asks, and Bradley takes it as the reprieve it is, smirks at the blush appearing on Natasha’s cheeks and quirks an eyebrow but wisely keeps his mouth very firmly shut. He likes his dick and balls right where they are.

                The conversation flows around him and he focusses on eating for a bit and moving his shins out of the way of Natasha’s feet where she’s trying to kick him, clearly knowing what he’s thinking about Javy Machado coming over wanting to eat breakfast with her.

                “Bradley…” He looks up and Aunty Kaye is standing there, smiling her normal smile but her eyes are slightly more narrow than usual, like she’s either assessing him for body-bag size, or she’s about to tell a joke and she’s already laughing inwardly. It’s really hard to tell.

                “Aunty Kaye. Morning.”

                “Hmm. It is morning. And you are not going to need extra time in the makeup chair this morning…”

                “I’m sorry, what?”

                “My son’s face and neck look like he lost a fight with a roll of sandpaper…”

                Oh fuck.

                He can feel his cheeks heating, and at least he knows she’s Jake’s mom now and he isn’t hit with the shock of that as well. He hasn’t seen Jake up close yet, but he trusts that Aunty Kaye knows what she’s talking about and if he’s left Jake with stubble burn then… well. It’s kind of unavoidable if he wants to keep kissing him, he’s not going to apologize to Jake’s mom about it, not when Jake clearly didn’t seem to mind.

                Bob, Rueben, Natasha and Javy are all watching the interaction with glee, as are a handful of other people within hearing distance and he glances over to where he last saw Jake and he’s not there, instead he’s much closer, expression harried as he approaches and oh shit, his face and neck are definitely more pink than normal, not bright red, but definitely pink like he’s been out in the sun maybe.

                “Oh my god mom, please leave him alone…” Jake says. “I am so sorry about her.”

                “I expect you at dinner tonight. At the main house.”

                “Uh.”

                “Mom!” Jake exclaims, then he turns to Bradley. “You don’t have to come to dinner, she’s just meddling…”

                “Well, I’ve been inviting Bradley to dinner for a couple of weeks. Maybe with you there he’ll have more of an incentive to come, hmm?”

                Bradley is pretty sure he’s full-on blushing now, realizing that those dinner invitations maybe had an ulterior motive if Jake’s expression are anything to go by. He’s not going to avoid or ignore or run away from any of it anymore, and maybe they can finally have that conversation he feels needs to happen.

                “Seems like the least I can do considering the amount of makeup Jake’s going to need.”

THIRTEEN

[slytherinbangchan]

Inked Dreams (NCT Dream Tattoo Artist!Au) (M)

Chap 9 out of 10 -> First arc: Haechan&Chenle x female reader

>>Chap 1 here

Summary: A NCT Dream Tattooist!Au where the Dreamies are college's heartthrobs and most likely will steal your heart whenever you less expect it.

W: Smut, explicit

Inked Dreams Masterlist~

[My First and Last: Chap 9🐻]

“Fuck..” You moan as you arch your back, reaching your high as Hyuck keeps thrusting into you, cumming just some seconds later. He grasps on the bed sheets and buries his head on the crook of your neck as he groans. You left your bed like two hours ago just to take a shower and rush to his apartment to be by his side, and here you are now, three orgasms later.

He lies next to you, trying to catch his breath. His hair sticking to his forehead cause of the sweat. You smile and comb it back with your fingers and he looks at you. He's normally so cute but right now he looks simply hot.

Ah... You know he needs to breath just as much as you do right now, but you just want to kiss him, nibble on him, maybe even fuck him a fourth time. No matter how tired you both are cause of the lack of sleep and all that.

You sit astride him as he keeps lying down and lean over to kiss him. His hands on your butt as you do so, squeezing hard. You whine against his lips and Renjun hits the wall from the other side. “Omg, stop already, I'm trying to focus here!” He complains, startling you both, then you chuckle. “Shower?” Hyuck asks and you nod.

Whatever, guess you should put on some clothes anyway before the rest of the guys arrive.

You follow him to the shower, squealing as he sprinkles you with cold water. He smirks as he looks down to your boobs and you blush, hiding your nipples with one of your arms. “Omg, what are you, twelve?” You ask and he chuckles. “I couldn't help it.” He says as he leans over for a kiss. You roll your eyes at him but meet his lips anyway.

The hot water now falls over you two as you make out. One of his hands slowly climbs up to play with your tits and the other one brings you closer to him by your waist. You hug him, then your hands slip down to his butt, pulling him closer to your body too. He smiles on the kiss and guides one of your hands to his hard cock, hissing as soon as you start to pump him. You peck his lips then leave a trail of kisses down to his neck, leaving a love bite on his shoulder. You're not even sure if you'll be able to tell the hickey apart from his neck tattoos later, but you want to mark him anyway.

Suddenly you feel the warmth of his hand over yours and your heart skips a beat.

Damn. You were so focused on marking him that you were barely moving. He's guiding your hand now as he meets your lips again, and for some reason you find his movements so fucking hot. Probably cause it feels like he's done that a million times before and more. He knows how he likes to be touched and he's teaching you how to do so.

He leaves your hand alone again soon enough. His eyes closed as he's about to cum. He pulls you closer once again, feeling your wet body against his. He kisses you but can't help throwing his head back as he finally releases with a soft moan.

“Cute.” You chuckle softly and he purses his lips a bit shy about it. But that only makes you want to call him more cute stuff.

His hand is running down to your heat now, but he's still blushing. He swirls his fingers playing softly with your clit, then he leaves a trail of kisses from your lips down to your neck and tits. He keeps going down, kneeling in front of you. Then he looks up to smile at you, making the butterflies in your stomach alive. He grasps on your thighs as soon as he starts eating you out and you tug on his hair as he does so.

Someone knocks on the bathroom's door urgently, startling you both. “Ya... Hyung... It's Jisung... I-I really have to use the bathroom...” He says and Hyuck sighs then stands up. “Guess the guys are here.” Hyuckie says. Ah, he looks hot too when he's annoyed. “It's okay, we'll finish this later.” You tell him, cupping his face and he sighs and meets your lips. “Okay... Let's wash up quickly then so that idiot doesn't have an accident.” He sighs again, making you chuckle.

“Here.” Hyuckie says, rolling you up in a towel. When you open the door Jisung is just there, waiting. His eyes meet yours immediately and he blushes in a very obvious way as he realizes you were there too, and now you are in front of him in just a towel. “Oh my goddd.” He says as he walks past you and Hyuck, shielding his eyes with his hands and closing the door behind him. Hyuckie chuckles as he shakes his head.

You both put on some clothes and go to the living room since the guys are waiting there to play some games. “Ahh, finally these two leave the bedroom.” Renjun says. “Y/n, look me in the eye and tell me you were not fucking Haechan for hours.” He continues as you hug him hello. “I... Can't do that.” You admit and they all chuckle. “Oh, good. We are finally over the denial phase. What time did you get here anyway? I didn't even see you.” He asks as you keep hugging the guys, making you blush lightly. It's so obvious now that you were missing Haechan so much you came here as soon as you woke up. “Please, stop asking me questions.” You say as you chuckle and he chuckles too. “Yeah, understood.”

“Hey.” Chenle softly says as you hug him. Damn, he looks good today. “Can I talk to you in private?” He asks and your heart skips a beat. What does he want to talk about? Does it have to do with why he was being kinda weird last night? Oh, no. Hyuckie got rid of the condom last night, right? He didn't leave it in Chenle's closet, RIGHT? No, chill. It can't be that. Why would he want to talk only to you about that? It makes no sense. He would have mentioned it already in front of everyone probably as a revenge for using his innocent closet for that kind of stuff.

You follow him to Renjun's room and you can't help to scan it. It's so nice in there. Some of his old tattoo designs are hanging up a corkboard on the wall. You recognize some of them right away cause they're Haechan's. The ones on one side of his neck and another one on his forearm. “Y/n.” Chenle calls you and you come back to Earth. “Sorry!” You apologize, but your eyes drift to his neck and arms too. “Ah... I knew I had seen that one too before.” You say, pointing at the corkboard and then his neck. He chuckles softly and nods. “Yeah, Renjun is really good with neck tattoos.” He says and you agree. “Can I see it? I feel like we've never been this close before with lights on.” You ask as you chuckle and he nods. “Sure.” He says and you come closer and pull from his shirt a bit so you can see the tattoo better.

His eyes on you now as you're still close. He's probably just looking at you looking at his tattoo but... It still makes your heart fluttler thinking of looking up and meeting his eyes. Woah, can't believe how detailed his tattoo is though. Renjun really is a genius. You can't stop yourself from outlining the tattoo as you look at it.

Oh god... Chenle's gone completely silent now. Guess you were too into your favorite tattooist's job to notice how close your bodies are right now. You're probably blushing. Is he still looking at you? Maybe he's not... Maybe...

You look up slowly, meeting his eyes right away. He was looking at your lips but he looked up as soon as he noticed you looked up too. What is this tension?? Your heart skips a beat as his eyes move back to your lips before he leans over, kissing you. You follow the kiss but pull away after a moment. “Wait... Chenle... We are not at a party.” You say, cupping his face with your hand and caressing his cheek with your thumb, and he's already hating how you're not even smiling as you tell him so. "And... I don't think we should keep doing this anyway.” You tell him. He looks kinda bummed. “I should have told you last night. I'm sorry, but I'm... just too deep into Haechan to keep doing this like it was nothing.” You continue and he sighs. “Y/n, I like you. Like, actually like you.” He confesses, making you blush. “Wha- Since when?” You ask, still shy about it and he scoffs. “Well, I don't know exactly but... I guess that after I noticed you got jealous that day at campus I started thinking a bit about how it would be if we actually dated...” He explains and your heart hurts but you don't know what to say. He sighs again. “I thought you may like me too so I had to try but... Just forget about it. Let's go back.” He says, then tries to leave the room but you stop him. “Wait... I'm sorry. You are right... I do like you and it's true that I was jealous but...” You stop. It hurts more than you thought it would to say the rest of it out loud. “You like Haechan more.” He finishes your sentence. It's not exactly what you were going to say, but guess it works... “I'm sorry.” You apologize again, trying to hold back some tears and he sighs before pulling you into a hug. Damn, why a hug? Now you really want to cry.

He pecks the top of your head and wipes a tear on your cheek that managed to scape, then he chuckles at your pouty face before hugging you again. What can you say that could make him feel better? You don't even know how to soothe your own heart.

To be completely honest, Chenle has ended up becoming way more dear to you than you could have ever imagined that night at that party when you first met.

But Haechan... He makes you feel like no one else ever did before.

You pull away from the hug still pouting and he smiles softly. “What? It's okay, dummy. We'll always have that night, right?” He says before pecking your cheek. “Now, let's go back before Haechan starts whining.” He chuckles softly and you hug him one last time before following him out. You really feel bad for just leaving this conversation like that, but you can't come up with anything right now to make things better anyway and he probably knows that.

The guys are already playing by the time you go back to the living room. Hyuckie is rolled up in a blanket but he invites you in as soon as he sees you, so you sit on his lap and Chenle sits next to Mark. It's been a while since last time you were with all the guys without your roomie being there too. But she texted you to say she wasn't ready yet to see Mark. She didn't want to give you any details though, at least not on the phone.

Hyuckie nibbles on your neck as he backhugs you and your eyes drift to Chenle without you even thinking of it. He's looking to the floor, lost in thoughts it seems. “Chenle-yah.” Renjun calls him and looks at you for a second, then he looks at Chenle again and asks him something in Chinese. You don't know what they're saying but Chenle sounds like someone who's telling another person that they don't want to talk about something. Renjun insist though and Chenle clicks his tongue and ends up telling him something but you have no idea what it is. They haven't mentioned your name, that you've noticed, but Renjun steals a glance at you every now and then. You can tell he's surprised about what he's hearing but he's keeping it low-key so the others don't notice.

Ah, how are you supposed to feel? You heart still hurts but what can that pain do against the army of butterflies that start fluttering in your stomach every time Hyuckie touches you? Or talks to you, or to anyone to be honest. Just hearing his voice in general is enough. This guy really managed to steal your heart somehow.

You let out a heartfelt sigh as you think about it and Hyuckie squeezes you softly in his arms, making your heart swoon. “What was that about?” He asks in a soft tone before pecking your cheek and you turn around to meet his lips. “I'll tell you later.” You say as you fix his hair a little. “Promise?” He asks and you nod, pulling a smile from him before he kisses you again.

“Haechan-ah, it's your turn, c'mon.” Mark calls him, handling the controller and you slip down his lap so it's more comfy for him to play. He whines, pouting at you, and you chuckle. “What? You won't be able to play properly if I'm there.” You explain and he clicks his tongue before taking your hand and placing it on his nape so you pet him. You bite your lower lip not to smile at his clinginess and start stroking his hair. “Cutie.” You tell him and he smiles without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Aww, I died.” Hyuck says after a minute, dropping the controller on the sofa before tackling you down to kiss you. You laugh but meet his lips as he pins you down. His grip on your wrists is making you kinda horny. But it's not the time or place for that now. “Okay, who's next?” Renjun asks, pulling you away from those thoughts and you sit up. “Me~.” You say, taking the controller and making Hyuck pout cause of it. “I'll play too.” Chenle says, joining you and the others. It's a bit awkward between you two for like a minute but soon enough you're laughing and bickering over the game.

Hyuck tags along for the next game, giving up on getting your undivided attention for now and wanting to join the fun. But he ends up fixating on defeating Chenle all the time for some reason and ignoring you and Renjun, so you both end up pretty bored. “Okaay...” Renjun says, looking at you and you both drop the controllers. “Should we get some lunch?” He asks Jaemin. “Mhm. What do you want?” He asks, stroking Junnie's hair. “Hmm, jjajangmyeon?” Renjun answers, then looks at you and the others. “You guys wanna order?” Renjun asks, then Chenle laughs. “Ah, you lost.” He tells Hyuck and he clicks his tongue. “What the-? You cheated. Let's go again.” He says but Chenle scoffs. “I didn't, you're the one who always cheats when we play.” He says and Jaemin clicks his tongue. “Kids, stop fighting~” He says, just to be ignored. “C'mon, let's play one more time.” Hyuck insists, handing Chenle back the controller, but he puts it away. “Dude, I've won like three times already, I'm not playing again.” He chuckles and Hyuck clicks his tongue. “Right... Okay, I won four times so I guess I still win.” He says and Chenle laughs. “I really don't think we played that many times, but okay.” By this point you and the others are texting eachother about what to order for lunch. “Y/n.” Hyuck calls you and you leave your phone for a second to listen to him. “I won the second game, didn't I?” He asks and you think about it for a moment. “Well...” You say and Chenle chuckles, making Hyuckie's blood boil. “See?” Lele says and Renjun frustratedly sighs. “Who caares??” Junnie asks, tired of this silly fight, and Mark chuckles. “Right, Donghyuck-ah, you're normally very competitive but not that much of a sore loser. What's going on? You really seem to have it in for Chenle today.” He asks and your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet Chenle's, cause, for a second, he looks just as worried as you feel and normally he's way more chill about this kind of awkward moments. He quickly smiles though and proceeds to tease Hyuck about the whole thing as if nothing happened and Hyuck seems to just go with it.

“Hyuckie, come here.” You tug from his shirt and he stops bickering to turn around a bit and look at you. “Come heere~” You whine, pulling from his shirt, then chuckle at him simply allowing you to make him lie back on the sofa. “What?” He asks. He's still a bit sulky from losing so you peck his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. “What do you want for lunch?” You ask, handing him your phone so he takes a look while you hug him. Burying your face on the crook of his neck. “I don't know, whatever you want is fine, baby.” He says and your heart flutters a bit at the pet name. You're blushing so you keep your face hidden on his neck. “Hm, you want kimchi jjigae, don't you?” You ask and he chuckles softly. “Nah, whatever you want is okay.” He says and you finally look at him. “Really?” You ask and he nods as he sweetely looks at you. “Then, let's get kimchi jjigae.” You say and he chuckles softly. “Alright.” He agrees before kissing you. “I also want giant cookies.” You add and he nods before kissing you again. “Let's go get the cookies while they bring our food then~”

The cookie place is only five minutes away from the guys's apartment and the restaurant said it'd take 40-45 minutes for the food to arrive since it's some kind of holiday today. So you go get your cookies in the meantime. “Ugh, there's a lot of people inside.” You say, pointing at the shop and Hyuck chuckles. “Yeah, that place is too tiny and today there's tons of people everywhere.” He says and you sigh. “I'll go get them, you can wait here if you want.” He offers and you look at him with heart eyes. “Really?” You ask and he nods. “Mhm~” He says before you make him lean over to kiss him. “Mint choco, right?” He asks and you nod. “And the pink ones~” You say and peck his lips, then watch him walk away as your heart beats for him.

You're just looking around when you casually spot one of the girls from the other day, the rude one that wanted you to introduce her to the guys. You look away immediately but it's too late. She's seen you, and now she's decisively walking towards you.

“Y/n?? Remember me?” She asks and you force a smile. “Suure, from the arcade, right?” You say and she puts on a fake smile. “Yeah. I've heard you and Haechan have been spending quite a lot of time together.” She says. “You know, you could have said that you liked him that day.” She continues, looking you up and down and you scoff. “Why would I talk about my feelings to a stranger?” You ask and she smiles again. “So you do like him, right?” She insist and you tilt your head. “What do you want?” You ask and she sighs. “Well, he blocked me and my friend without a reason so I guess I'm pissed.” She explains and you sigh. “So? What does that have to do with me?” You ask and she takes out her phone. “Easy. I don't want him to be happy.” She says. “You pushed a girl at the last party, remember?” She asks and you feel like your heart simply stops, thinking of all the ways this can go. “You did, right? You don't have to tell me, I know. She's my friend.” She keeps talking. “She told me that you kissed Haechan in front of everyone by the end of the party but that you were also making out next to the pool after the games.” Oh, so they could see you after all, they just decided to ignore it. “Okay?” You say and she smiles again, this time in an ominous way. “We came to the conclusion that he clearly cares about you.” She says and you sigh. “Is this going somewhere? What do you want??” You ask and she sighs too. “So impatient.” She says as she scroll down on her phone. “You know what else my friend told me?” She wants you to answer but you just wait in silence cause you're trying really hard not to punch her right now. “Ugh, you're so boring. Alright, I'll just tell you.” She says, and you roll your eyes. “She told me that at some point people saw you and Haechan head up upstairs, and that Zhong Chenle was looking pretty bummed about it.” She says and you feel anxiety slowly creeping on you as she keeps talking. “She also said that he was super into that kiss you both shared while playing the shots game and... The best part?” She says, showing her phone's screen at you. “She took a video of your goodbye hug.” She says as she pouts. “Aw, you two look so cute.” She says and you swallow some saliva as you look at the video. “So? We're friends. I hugged the other guys too.” You say and she scoffs then laughs. “C'mon, you can say just by looking at this video that you're not just friends. He's looking at you as if you were his whole world.” She chuckles, managing to finally get to you for a moment. Not because you're scared of what she might be planning to do with that video, but because it reminds you of how bad it hurts to hurt Chenle. “I'm kinda sorry for you since my only goal is to hurt Haechan but, in order to do that, I have to use you.” She says. “I mean, I kinda admire you too. Like, damn, you got to steal Lee Donghyuck and Zhong Chenle's hearts?” She laughs. “Were you playing with them? I really can't wait to see Donghyuck's face when he hears about it.” She says, finally ending her little monologue and you take a deep breath as you think about this whole conversation. Also about how you think Donghyuck would actually react to that video. Then you can't help but chuckle. You are not even sure why you are laughing but there must be something you find pretty funny. Probably you just feel pity for her right now. And that makes everything she said not scary at all.

Yeah, okay. This wasn't the first scenario in your head when you told Hyuckie earlier today that you'd tell him about why you were feeling down after talking to Chenle, but you're not going to panic about it either. Mean girls never stood a chance against you, and this one is no different.

“Okay.” You tell her and she tilts her head, confused. “You want to tell Donghyuck about Chenle? Then tell him.” You smile at her. “In fact, I'm waiting for him right now, so... Why don't you just tell him when he's back?” You say and she scoffs. “I will.” She says and you laugh. “Do it.” You say as Hyuck finally appears. “Hey, I got the cookies, let's go.” He tells you and you hold his wrist and bring him forward. “Wait a minute Hyuckie. This girl wants to show you something.” You say, looking at her in the eye and she looks at Hyuck nervously but plays the video again to show it to him. “What?” He asks and she looks at the video and then at him. “She? And Chenle??” She says, making you chuckle. Sounds like she doesn't know how to form sentences anymore. “What's going on?” He asks you and you shrug. “You idiot, don't you see? Chenle clearly loves her?” She says, zooming in the video and he looks at it. “I know.” He says and your heart skips a beat but you keep a straight face. “What?” She asks. “Is that all that you want to tell me? Cause it's none of your business.” He says and she doesn't know what to say anymore. “Was me blocking you too subtle? I don't want to hear anything from you or anyone close to you. Please, stay away from me and my friends.” He sighs and holds your hand. “Let's go home.” He says, and you walk away with him, leaving that girl there.

“Hyuckie...” You call him. “Mhm?” He answers and you sigh. “You really knew about Chenle?” You ask and he nods. “Mhm.” He says and you stay in silence for a bit. “Can we talk about it?” You ask him. Looking for his eyes as you walk, making him smile. “Sure.”

You sit on a bench. You can feel your heart beating faster as you think about how to start the conversation but in the end, instead of start explaining everything, you decide to ask first. “What did you mean exactly when you said that you know about him?” You ask and he tilts his head and asks for your hand to hold while talking, so you give it to him. “Well, I actually wasn't sure and hadn't thought about it until earlier today but... Chenle asked you to talk alone out of nowhere when you barely talk to eachother normally, so that was weird.” He chuckles and you giggle too. “Also, when he kissed you last night and all those things he told you while we were doing the shots game came to mind after I saw you two playing.” He explains. “I didn't notice at first, but as you kept playing I saw him looking at you as he did last night, and I started to feel really jealous.” He says as he scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “When that girl showed me the video and said what she said, I wasn't surprised.” He says, playing with your fingers, then he looks at your eyes. “I lied to her though. I didn't know for a fact, but I wanted to talk to you about it. No one else, so I wanted her gone. That's why I said what I said.” He finishes explaining and you sigh. “Thank you.” You say, then you take a minute to think about what you want to say next. “I'm sorry that someone else got involved and... I really want to talk to you about it too.”

You stare at eachother for a moment, not knowing what to say or better said, where to begin. “So... Uhm...” You start saying and Haechan chuckles and squeezes your hand softly. “It's okay y/n, just start from the beginning. You obviously knew Chenle likes you, so I assume you two have at least talked about it.” He says and you nod as you blush lightly. It's funny how he has this image of someone who is always playing around and everyone in campus just thinks he's so immature cause of it. But he's actually really insightful and level-headed.

“So, remember the night we met?” You ask and he nods. “I was making out with Chenle just a few minutes earlier. Right before I went outside and saw you playing with Daegal.” You say and he scoffs as he smiles. "Damn." He says, chuckling, then motions you to keep going. “It didn't really mean anything to us in that moment and also pretty much I crushed on you the minute we started talking.” You say and he scoffs again, kinda smirking. “I made out with Chenle again that night though, when you all went away.” You tell him and he nods, a bit more serious now, but still kinda smiley. “I told Chenle that I was crushing on you and he told me he didn't like anyone in particular so, we said that maybe we could keep making out from time to time if we met in other parties, just for fun and only as long as we weren't officialy dating anyone.” You keep explaining and his expression changes again to a more serious one. “Wait... Have you made out with him after that?” He asks and you sigh. “We didn't kiss again until last night's party actually.” You say. “But... I would be lying if I said we hadn't flirted at all since the night we made out, and also... Earlier today... He kissed me and then confessed.” You say and you can see that he's not happy about it, but he's not mad. “Do you like him?” He asks and your heart hurts thinking of the answer. “Honestly, I do...” You admit. “But I ended it cause I don't like him like this, not like I like you.” You pout, feeling sad that you may have hurt him just now, and he looks down to your hands, caressing them with his thumbs. “And how do you like me?” He simply asks as he blushes lightly. Making your heart skip a beat. “Well...” You start saying but then stop and look away. Firstly cause you barely know how to put it down into words and secondly, cause you're kinda afraid of the outcome.

He squeezes your hands softly in a reassuring way and you look at him again. “I... The thing is... That even though I've dated more than once, I had never fallen for anyone in my life, so I didn't know how that felt, at all... But after meeting you, I started feeling stuff that I had never felt before, and to be honest it was a bit scary.” You sigh. “But you... Made me feel safe in such a lovely way that it was impossible for me to be afraid anymore.” You blush at how cheesy you're being right now and he chuckles softly at how cute your rosy cheeks look, caressing your hands. Then he nods so you'd keep talking and you nod too. “Ah... So, what I mean is, and probably this sounds like a lot right now, but... At this point I... have no doubt in my mind that I've fallen for you, Donghyuck.” You confess, blushing even more as your heart goes on a race, and he bites his lower lip trying to hold in a smile.

He ruffles his hair as he blushes lightly, meeting your eyes. “So you are done with Chenle for sure...” He says after a moment and you nod. “Cause you love me.” He continues as he laces his fingers with yours, and you nod again as you blush even more. “And you've never loved anyone else before. Ever.” He keeps saying and you feel like your heart is going to scape from your chest any time now and you're going to die from blushing. “Yes.” You tell him, flustered, and he can't help a smile as he plays with your fingers. “Well...” He distractedly says before looking up at your eyes again. “I feel the same way.” His eyes fixed on yours now, sending a wave of emotions all over your chest. “I've dated before, of course, but... I'm sure too that you're my actual first love, y/n...” He says, tilting his head as he smiles. “And, just so you know, I'm not planning on letting you go. I'll make this last until the end.” He confesses, looking at you with adoring eyes and sweetely caressing your cheek, making your heart flutter. “Really? Will you keep me by your side forever?” You ask, pouting at him and he nods as he chuckles softly. “Mhm~ of course. There won't be another you, I know.” He pecks your lips happily. “You're my last, y/n.” He says and you sweetely comb his hair down with your fingers. You can't help but to stare at him lovingly. “Your first and last love, then?” You chuckle, leaning over him to kiss and he nods as he smiles before meeting your lips. “My First and Last.”

Chap8....Next chap

[princessamericachavez]

The waking up, having forgotten and remembering the full extent of what forever is

6x17 Spec (AO3)

“Okay, so, a couple years ago, we were responding to a call and then he got... he got shot, right in front of me... in the middle of the street... and out of nowhere, he almost died.” “So he had his very own brush with death,” Natalia’s eyebrows arch. “Cool.”

“Hey, are you alright?” Natalia asks, snapping Buck back to reality. 

His coffee’s gone cold. He looks at the cup, shyly, then back at her. To be honest, Buck is far from fine. He’s exhausted. The day was long, the calls were complicated, Eddie was acting off, Chim was stressing out about proposing to his sister like they aren’t already practically married anyway, and all he wants deep down is to go home, take a shower and sleep twelve hours straight. 

But he’s been pushing back this date with Natalia for almost a whole week now (not his fault, just STUFF that kept randomly happening and getting in the way because the Universe will not give Evan Buckley a single break) and he didn’t want her to think he was ghosting her or something. So now he’s here, staring at a cold coffee cup, thoughts far away. 

“Sorry, yeah. I’m- I was just thinking about that call, from this morning...”

“The proposal,” Natalia guesses. 

Buck nods with a heavy sigh. 

“The sky diver... You know, I actually told Chim to do that last week?” He asks, dread filling him up, but shakes the idea as quickly as possible. “I just- I keep thinking about that guy. He was in love, he had every single reason to survive, to live for... and he just, he didn’t make it.” 

Buck still remembers the man’s ribs cracking under his palms, his fiancé’s sobs somewhere across the street, Bobby’s hand on his shoulder forcing him to stop. He’s gone, kid. 

“It’s just death,” Natalia says, gently. “Most people who go there don’t come back.”

“Yeah, but I did,” Buck says, a little too sharply. “I- I came back, I got a second chance. Why didn’t he? He had so much to live for...”

“Didn’t you?”

Buck blinks at her. He thinks of endless hospital hallways, of a thick glass wall, of his own face filled with every cruel word he’s ever said. He thinks of the words Bobby Nash is dead, and a Diaz-shapped hole in the world. 

“Yeah, I did. But-”

“But he had more?” Natalia guesses. 

Buck shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just- It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Death isn’t fair, Buck,” her eyes sparkle as she speaks, like they do every time they broach her favorite subject. Which is, if he’s being honest, every time they meet. “Death just is. And everything else, well... it doesn’t matter.”

“It has to matter,” Buck shakes his head. “There has to be a reason.”

“A reason he died? Or a reason you survived?”

“I don’t know. Both? I just- I wish I knew, you know? I wish I could tell for sure why I’m still here.”

“To share your wisdom with me?” Natalia teases and it manages to make him chuckle, though even he can tell the sound is far from happy. 

“Maybe. Maybe that’s why.”

Maybe he came back to meet her, to know her, to love her and be loved by her, to finally get it right. Yeah. Maybe. It doesn’t feel entirely right, though.

“I just hate how random these things are, you know? This guy did everything right, but he just flew across a bank robbery car chase, and... just like that, his life was over.”

“In a flash?” Natalia asks, arching an eyebrow, easily guessing where Buck’s thoughts really are. And he’s slightly embarrassed, because he really should know by now that he’s not the center of the universe, but he can’t help it when these things affect him. 

“These things just keep happening when you least expect them.”

“These things... plural?” She asks, eyes a little eager again, clearly guessing he’s about to mention another brush with death. 

“It’s like- like when Eddie got shot,” he says. “You- you know Eddie, right, my best friend? He- he was at the call at Marie’s funeral, when we met,” he explains, which really shouldn’t be necessary because even if they haven’t officially met he knows he’s mentioned Eddie more than once to Natalia. What did you do today? How did you day go? So where were you on the weekend? The answer always leads back to Eddie and Chris. Still, Natalia has the good grace to nod along. “Okay, so, a couple years ago, we were responding to a call and then he got... he got shot, right in front of me... in the middle of the street... and out of nowhere, he almost died.”

“So he had his very own brush with death,” Natalia’s eyebrows arch. “Cool.”

The word rips through him like a bullet, like lightning, it knocks the air out of his lungs and fills them with something akin to acid. 

“Cool?” He says, voice low and slow and angry. “Eddie almost dying wasn’t ‘cool’, Nat. He was bleeding out in the middle of the street. I had to drag him out, I had to beg him not to die on the way to the hospital, he- he could’ve died. For real. Forever.”

“But he didn’t, just like you.”

“It doesn’t matter! Just- just because he survived it doesn’t mean it’s nothing!” 

And just as he’s starting to feel awful about raising his voice, something shifts in Natalia’s face. A small, victorious, smile blooms across her face and her eyes shine with a new kind of excitement. And, just like that, it comes crashing down on him. 

“This... this was never a date, was it?” He asks, voice hoarse. 

At that, her expression twists guiltily. She shakes her head. 

“Then- then what was the whole... the being interested in my dying.”

“Oh, I am interested,” Natalia says, lightly. “But I think you didn’t really want to talk about it. Not seriously, at least. The way you brought it up, when we first met, like it was just something funny or curious that happened to you... I figured you needed someone to match that tone, to help you to open up. And eventually...”

“...realize that it wasn’t nothing,” Buck finishes, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment. 

“Just because you’re still here, Buck, it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. To you... to the people who love you.”

For the first time, Buck’s head actually thinks about his family seeing him die. He thinks about how Eddie’s shooting wrecked him, and finally understands that perhaps that’s why they’ve been acting weird since he came back, like he could break any second, like they are waiting for him to catch up on what happened. Buck, you died. Buck, you died. You died, Buck. 

“I know it happened. I just... I want it to mean something.”

“It already does. It can mean whatever you want it to.”

Buck takes in a shaky breath and lets it out slowly, meeting her eyes again. 

“Death isn’t about life ending, Buck, it’s about the journey before. And, for you, there’s still a whole journey ahead... and behind. You can’t shake off your past like you’re changing skin, you wouldn’t learn anything that way. This is a second chance at your life, not some other imagined one. A lot of people who go through similar situations, who die and come back, want to burn it all to the ground, be someone new... but that’s just another way of running away.” 

“Or go to Italy,” Buck huffs, amused, and for the first time in this entire conversation Natalia looks confused. He just shakes his head. “I guess I’ve just been... I’ve been trying to use this to find my way, but instead I’ve been so lost.”

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places,” she says, with a sweet smile, and he knows she means herself. 

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t know where else to look.”

“I can’t help you with that,” Natalia says, as she gestures for the check. “But in my experience, life and death aren’t so different in that they can catch you in the most unexpected places. Sometimes... right under your nose.”

“Wouldn’t that be funny?” Eddie’s never going to let him live this down when he tells him. “Uh... I feel like I should be paying for the session, or sessions, you know?”

“You can just pay for my coffee,” she laughs. “And maybe one of those chocolate muffins to go.”

Buck laughs, and hopes that Natalia keeps in touch because, even if clearly they haven’t been dating, he kinda likes her. She’d be a good friend to have around. 

“So... if I have any more questions... about death?” He says, watching her pick up her purse and straighten her dress. 

“You can always call me, Buck, but I think you already have all the answers you’re looking for. You just gotta let yourself see them.”

And with that, she gives his shoulder a quick squeeze as she passes by and walks away. Buck sighs, and finds himself smiling. 

As he walks out of the cafe, he pulls out his phone and shoots Eddie a quick text: Man do I have a story to tell you. Wanna grab a beer?

Eddie’s reply comes quickly: Always. My place or yours?

Yours. Buck writes back, hopping into the jeep. 

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 21

Fandom: Extraction

Warnings: angst, some profanity, dialogue centric

*Includes Extraction 1 and 2 canon mentions

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @asirensrage @thebejeweledwatercat @residentdormouse @kmc1989 @karimac @arrthurpendragon @ninjasawakenedmystar @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @theesirenteller

My tag list is OPEN. Please let me know if you want to be added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/128385061

****

She lingers on the threshold between the master bedroom and living area, quietly watching him as he works, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed as he inspects the contents of the open supply case in front of him. Mere minutes past six in the morning and he’s already been up for more than an hour; she had felt the shifting and dipping of the mattress underneath her as he slipped from the warm confines of their bed, followed by the brief, soft kiss that had been pressed to her forehead.

Sleep is a rare commodity as both brain and body make the seemingly smooth and effortless transition to ‘work Tyler’; the one that’s used to the stress and the long, sleepless nights and is intensely focused and disciplined. Knowing his habits, he likely put in a rigorous and near-punishing workout: extremely heavy lifting, a sweat-drenched run on the treadmill, and a mind-boosting and energy-centering yoga routine to finish it off.

“I hope you realize…” She leans against the doorframe, taking in the still damp hair, well-worn and faded jeans, scuffed combat boots, and simple cotton long-sleeved black tee. “...I’m going to steal that shirt.”

He briefly glances over his shoulder, his smile a striking and almost unnerving contrast to the darkness in his eyes. And he can’t help but admire her, his future wife with her hair thrown into a messy bun and her tiny body clad in nothing but one of the plaid button-downs he’d brought to New York City. It’s enormous on her, the fabric falling well below her knees, the sleeves rolled up several times in order to see her hands.

“Why do I get the sneaky suspicion that most of my side of the closet will migrate to yours?”

“Because it’s not your first rodeo. How many hoodies and t-shirts did you lose to me that year in The Kimberley?”

“Way too many to count, that’s for sure.”

“I was thinking…” She wanders into the living area, briefly stopping to pour herself tea from a freshly brewed carafe before joining him. “... about how we should do it sooner. Rather than later.”

A smirk plays on the corners of his mouth. “Are we talking about butt stuff or…?”

Esme scowls. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You mean right now or in general?”

“We did THAT twelve hours ago. I know you have short-term memory issues, but Jesus…”

“So we’re NOT talking about that. We’re talking about…”

“Marriage.” She focuses on those enormous, strong hands in order to quell her nervousness; their calloused skin, their various scars, and their misshapen knuckles. She knows the various kinds of torture they can inflict, both in the name of violence and vengeance and in creating the most intense and overwhelming sexual pleasure she’s ever experienced in her life. “Me and you. Us. Tying the knot.”

“I thought you wanted to wait. A couple years at least. Put it off until we all got adjusted to living together again and being a family and all that.”

“I guess I just got thinking about it and how it wouldn’t really matter, would it? If we got adjusted and used to things AFTER we got married? I mean, if we’re living together and we’re a team when it comes to raising Millie, it’s as good as already being married. so…”

“And just when were you thinking about all this? We only decided to tie the knot yesterday.”

“Well, I had a bit of time on my hands…”

“Does this have anything to do with the talk we had last night? You being a little paranoid that me taking the time to work on my shit somehow means I don’t want to also work on us?”

“Maybe…”

“I already told you; one has nothing to do with the other. I can do BOTH. It’s not ‘either or’.”

“It just might be a lot, you know? Trying to handle both. Dealing with what happened five years ago and between then and now and trying to play house with me and raise Millie and…”

“And getting married and being a newlywed would somehow be easier? Not put so much on my plate?”

“Maybe not easier, but….” She chews on the inside of her cheek as he stares at her pointedly, then heaves a sigh of exasperation. “Okay, so maybe I’m just a little bit neurotic and…”

“Just a ‘little bit’?’

“A LOT neurotic. At times. And I guess I’m just worried that if we don’t really lock things down BEFORE dealing with everything else, it’ll somehow make it easier for you to walk away and leave us and…”

“I’m not going to walk away. There’s nothing that you could possibly do or say that would make that happen. I’m all in. I told you that. You trust me, yeah?”

“It’s not about not trusting you. I have ALWAYS trusted you. It’s more about things being too heavy and complicated for you to handle and needing a way out.”

“I’m not that guy anymore.”

“It’s going to be hard, Tyler. Unpacking all our baggage and coming to terms with what happened. With what I did. It’s not going to be simple; accepting it all and moving on from it. And I wouldn’t blame you if it was too much and you left and…”

“Where the hell am I going to? It’s my house.”

“You know what I mean. It’s a lot easier to throw in the towel when there’s nothing really holding you down. And I know it’s just a ring and a piece of paper, but it’s like a guarantee. An insurance policy, even. It makes it harder to give up when it’s much more serious and permanent.”

“I think you’re reading into this too much. What we talked about last night.”

“I just worry that you won’t want to work as hard without that tie to me. At getting past things. At forgiving me.”

“I HAVE forgiven you.”

“Have you? Have you really?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I would have left the same day I got here, as soon as I found out you were the one who hired me. You think I would have stuck around if I hated you?”

“Well, at first, you could have stuck around out of some sense of obligation. Millie being yours and all…”

“I’m not sure ‘obligation’ is the right word, but yeah, her existence does play a huge part in why I hung around. Obviously. But it’s not the only thing that kept me here.”

“You stayed because…”

“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you. I spent five years hoping you’d just come wandering back into my life. That you’d show up out of nowhere, just like when we first met. I stayed here in New York for you. Simple as that. I stayed for YOU.”

Both lower lip and chin tremble as tears brim in her eyes. “It is way too early in the morning for this. Tyler Rake. Making me cry like this.”

“I’m not trying to make you cry. I’m trying to make you realize that I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need an ‘insurance policy’ or a ‘guarantee’ or whatever you want to call it to keep me around. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I have a hard time understanding it, I guess. The fact you ARE here. That you choose to be here. That it’s not just because you were hired to do a job.”

“It stopped being a job the second I saw you. Do you really think I see it that way? That this is just another gig? This is far beyond being just a payday. The minute I saw you and then met Millie…”

“I just feel like you’ve been too…I don’t know...accomodating, maybe? Too forgiving?”

“What do you want me to be like?”

Esme shrugs. “I guess I was expecting something different. Something a little more…volatile.”

“I’d never be that way with you. Ever. Doesn’t matter how bad things get. It would never happen.”

“I expected more, I guess. More anger. More bitterness. Maybe even making me get down on my hands and knees and grovel at your feet.”

“Well, if you want to get down on your knees, I’ve got something else you can do other than grovel.”

“Regardless of what you think, a blowjob does not solve every problem.”

“Maybe not EVERY problem, but a hell of a lot of them. I bet we’d come close to achieving world peace if more people got on their knees and…”

“I appreciate the attempts at piggish humour to get me to loosen up a bit, but I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you. A totally random one, mind you. But still…”

“I don’t what it is you want from me,” he admits, and turns back to the supply case. Checking the selection of magazines and filling those running low on ammunition. “What more you need me to say. Or do. I’ve been pretty open about it; all the shit I’m still holding onto and the fact I still love you and never got over you. I haven’t held anything back.”

“Like I said, I was expecting more. Something different. You’ve just been so…calm.”

“I’ve had my moments. Especially during our talk the first night here. Things got a little heated from what I remember.”’

“That was still calm. For you, anyway.”

“What is it you want to hear? What exactly do you want from me? Do you want me to completely freak out? Totally lose my shit on you? Bust up my hotel room? Put holes in the walls? Is that the kind of reaction you want?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m glad you never got like that. But I’m also a little weirded out, I suppose. That you didn’t go off the rails more than you did. I thought seeing Millie and realizing she was yours…”

“Seeing Millie and realizing she IS mine is what stopped me from going totally off the rails. Made me realize you had other reasons; for staying under the radar. I’m not exactly well-liked. Not in this circle, anyway. I’ve pissed off a lot of people. Burnt a lot of bridges. There’s quite a long list of people who wouldn’t mind getting revenge. I just figured maybe that’s why you kept her a secret. That maybe you were worried if word got out that I had a kid, they’d make her a target.”

“I never once thought about any of that. You weren’t the issue, Tyler. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was never about you. I mean, it WAS. But not like that.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you. If you’d thought that. It’s pretty reasonable; not wanting trouble to show up on your doorstep. You wanted to protect your daughter.”

“OUR daughter,” she gently corrects. “She’s OUR daughter. And I never felt like I had to protect her from you. Or because of you. It was all me. I didn’t want you to turn us away. That’s what I was afraid of. That you wouldn’t want her because of me.”

“I would have wanted her. And I would have wanted you, too. I’ve only wanted you for the last five years.”

“I didn’t know that. No one ever talked about it. Your personal life. Nik never mentioned how you were doing outside of your firefighting and your reno business and doing the odd job here and there for her. And to be honest, I was scared to ask. I didn’t want to hear that you found someone else. That you’d moved on. And I know that sounds selfish as fuck, but…”

“Want to hear selfish as fuck?” Filling the last clip, he snaps it into its holding spot and then turns to face her. Arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the edge of the table. “I used to hope that you were dead. Not because I was angry at you and felt you deserved it. Because I would have rathered you permanently gone than with someone else.”

She blinks, taken back by his honesty.

“I could handle you being dead, but not with another guy. Now who’s the selfish one? What kind of person even thinks like that? How messed up does someone have to be to come up with something so fucking twisted?”

“You’re a human being. You were hurt. And when we’re hurt, we don’t exactly think properly. We don’t…”

“It wasn’t because I was hurt. Or angry. It was because I didn’t want you with anyone else. Because all I could think was how if I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want anyone else to either.”

“I felt the same way. Every time I thought of you with someone. It fucking killed me inside. To even go down that road. I didn’t want you with anyone else. Which is pretty messed up considering I’m the one who left you.”

“We both have our issues. We always have. It’s never been one hundred percent healthy. I mean, look how we met. WHERE we met.”

.“Doesn’t mean it’s wrong, though. Us. I’ve never felt it was wrong. Have you?”

“I’ve never regretted a single thing. I’d take that bullet to the neck a million times over if it meant I got to be with you.”

“Don’t say that, Tyler. Don’t even think it. Because I don’t deserve it. That kind of devotion. I don’t…”

“I think the problem is that you WANT me to be angry. Or angrier than I am. You WANT me to totally lose my shit on you. You want me to yell and scream and tear things apart and make you feel like complete and utter shit.”

“It’s not that I want it. It’s just that…”

“You think you deserve it.”

She nods.

“You don’t. You don’t deserve that. Especially knowing the truth. About WHY you left. Yeah, there were a thousand different ways you could have handled it. You could have stayed; we could have found a way to get you out of that mess. We could have gone so far underground that they never would have found us. While Nik dealt with things. But like you said, when you’re scared, you don’t exactly think right.”

“I hurt you. Taking off like I did. Not even giving you a proper explanation. And then keeping Millie from me…”

“You’re not a bad person, Esme. You’re a good person who made a bad decision. A couple of them, actually.”

“And I deserve more. From you.”

“You’re angry because I’m NOT? Because I’m not living up to your standards of how angry I should be? Why do I need to treat you like that? Make you feel like crap? Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t even bother. Because you’re already doing a damn good job. When it comes to shit-talking yourself.”

“But I deserve that. I deserve to feel that way. To have YOU make me feel that way.”

“I don’t hate you. I could NEVER hate you. I love you too fucking much. And besides, no one could ever hate you the way you hate yourself. For what you did.”

“I can’t make peace with it. Especially when it comes to keeping Millie from you. I can’t…”

“I need you to. I need you to stop with it; all that hate and that guilt and that regret you’re carrying around. Because THAT’S what’s going to kill us. If you’re going to spend the rest of your life hating yourself and beating yourself up over it, it’s going to fuck US up. And I don’t want that. That’s the last thing I want.”

“You know….” She swipes at her escaping tears with the back of her hand. “...there’s something slightly disturbing around this changing of the guard stuff.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow.

“When YOU’RE the one being the most rational and logical? Well, it’s kind of unnerving.”

He grins. “Smart ass.”

“I don’t know HOW to get rid of it. I’ve carried it for so long that it’s become a part of me. Where do I even start? When it comes to letting it go?”

“Well, the first thing is to believe me when I tell you that I love you. That I always have. That I don’t hate you, and I definitely wouldn’t have turned you away. I spent five years wondering where you were. What you were doing. If you were even alive. I never forgot about you. Or got over you. I probably never would have. And I don’t know why that’s so hard for you to accept.”

“I guess I don’t feel I deserve that. Someone loving me that much.”

“Why? Why do you feel like I don’t deserve it?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just…do.”

“It isn’t just about what happened five years ago, is it.” It’s a statement, not a question. “That’s not the only thing going on here. It’s not just you hating yourself because of what you did.”

“What do you mean? What…?”

“You expect me to be like Mark. You expect me to react the same way he would.”

“You’re nothing like him. I would NEVER compare you to him. I would never…”

“But that’s what you’re used to, yeah? The way he treated you. You even grew up with a mom that didn’t give a fuck about you. Two people that you should have been able to trust and should have loved you no matter what turned out to be fucking assholes. So because I say ‘I love you’, I’m expected to turn out the same way.”

“I don’t expect that at all. I just think you being angry at me is and showing it is a normal reaction and…”

“But it’s not normal. Not the way you want me to show it, at least. You want me to freak out and destroy shit and make you feel like garbage. And maybe the Tyler five years ago would have acted that way; maybe he would have tried to burn everything to the fucking ground. But I’m not him anymore. And I’m definitely NOT Mark.”

“I know you’re not him. You’re not even close to being anywhere like him.”

“But you want me to be. And I’m sorry, but that’s fucked up. I mean, I get it; I understand why you are the way you are. But it’s still messed up.”

“You get used to it, I suppose. The way you’re treated. You believe everything someone tells you. About how terrible and repulsive you are and how you deserve the things they do to you. I’m not who I was; before he ever walked into my life. Sometimes I don’t even know who I am. That Esme? She’s long gone. He killed her.”

“No. He didn’t. Because the Esme I know? She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met. Everything that you’ve been through, everything that you’ve done? You staying on that bridge and putting your ass on the line for some guy you barely knew? And then all that you did in the hospital? For MONTHS? That’s real bravery. You’re a far braver and stronger person than I am.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. Everything YOU’VE been through?”

“Who got me through the worst of it? Who was the one that stuck around and shoved their fingers in my neck to stop me from bleeding to death? And who fought like hell to get me the best care in the hospital? Who stuck during all that shit afterwards? All that therapy and me being a grumpy fucking asshole?”

“In all fairness….” She manages a shaky smile. “...you’re a grumpy fucking asshole regardless of what you’re going through.”

“You got used to it the first time. Think you can do it a second?”

“I think I can do it a million more times.”

“I’m never going to be like him, Esme. And maybe, in a way, it IS expected me. Considering what I do for a living and the things I’ve done to people. But that’s not who I am. Away from the job. That Tyler is someone completely different. And I think deep down, you know that.”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be with you if you were that other Tyler all the time. It’s what attracted me to you; you were different than anyone else I’d ever met on the job. You had all this kindness in your eyes and in your voice. All this humanity still left inside of you. And that’s what I liked. What I fell in love with.”

“You are the strongest person I have ever known. And that’s saying something considering the life I’ve led. And I’m sorry; for every disgusting, horrible he said and did to you. And that you ever believed you deserved any of that. But I’ll never be like him. No matter how ugly and hard things might get. He didn’t love you. He didn’t even LIKE you. You realize that, yeah?”

She nods.

“I love you. In a way I never thought I could love someone. And maybe one day, you’ll believe me. I don’t care how long it takes, but I really hope it happens.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I KNOW you love me. I just don’t understand how you still can. After what I did.”

“Why do you love me? Look at the shit I’ve done. I’ve hurt people. I’ve KILLED people. Look what what I did to my ex. To my boy. Look at how much I hurt them. How can you love me knowing all that?”

“Because I know you’re a good man. With a huge heart. And I know how much damage it’s done to you; the choices that you’ve made. You have your regrets and your own guilt and…”

He stares at her pointedly.

“Oh…” A smile creeps across her face as the realization sets in. “Just like I have mine.”

“You love me. Even all the messy, fucked up pieces. Despite all the shit I’ve done, you still think I’m a decent person. Capable of doing good things. You don’t see me like some monster that’s beyond forgiveness. That’s got blood all over his hands.”

“Because you’re not that person. You’ve done those things, but they don’t define you.”

“And your mistakes and your issues and whatever you’ve got going on? They don’t define YOU. I don’t see you the way you see yourself. I could NEVER see you like that. And yeah, I’m hurt and I’m angry. I’ve got some bitterness. But the good things I feel? Towards you? They’re way stronger than any of that.”

She finally moves closer; standing between his legs and placing her hands on his hips and her forehead against his chest. “I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to hold onto all of this…stuff.”

Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, he repeatedly runs his hands over her arms and back. “We’ve got some shit to deal with. But we can do that as a team. Help each other. Stronger together than we are apart, remember?”

She smiles up at him. “I remember.”

Smoothing wayward strands of hair away from the side of her face, he places a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Neither of us is alone in this. Not anymore. We just gotta remember that. That we don’t have to go through it by ourselves.”

“It’s going to take some time. To get used to NOT doing it all alone.”

“We got used to it five years ago. We’ll get used to it again. And if you really do want to get married sooner and it’s for the right reasons? I’m good with it.”

Her hands slide up the bottom of his shirt; index fingers hooking in his belt loops, as she leans her body against his. “I want to marry you because I love you. I always have. I never stopped, you know. I never stopped wanting you or missing or wishing that things could have been married. I want to be your wife; I want us to raise Millie and have more babies and grow old and gray and spoil grandkids together. Are those the right reasons?”

“Those definitely are.”

“We lost five years, Tyler. And there’s no way of getting them back. I don’t want to wait. It’s not like I need or really even want anything big or fancy. That’s just who I am. I’m perfectly fine with just heading to the nearest courthouse and doing it in front of Millie and a couple of witnesses.”

“I don’t want you to regret it. Doing things that way.”

“I just want to marry you. I don’t care how that happens. Or where. But you have to want that, too. I don’t want you just going along with it just to make me happy.”

“If there were a way of making it happen, I’d marry you right now. If it was better timing and under better circumstances…”

“Maybe once we get to Australia? And spend a couple of days getting settled? Maybe then?”

“As soon as we get home, we can talk about it. Make plans. Sound good?”

“I like hearing you call it that. Home. Like I’m somehow already part of it.”

“You’ve always been part of it. We bought the place together. Had tons of plans for it. Things just didn’t happen when we thought they would. Doesn’t mean they won’t now.”

“You know, for such a huge man and such a badass, you really are a big sap.”

“That is a mean, horrible thing to say to your future husband.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a sap.”

“There’s something very wrong with it. I’m not supposed to be a sap. Haven’t you heard? I’m a bit of a legend now.”

“Oh, really? Is that a legend in your own mind or…?”

Initially frowning, he causes her to squeal when he aggressively slaps a palm against her ass, enjoying the sound of her giggle when he pinches both cheeks through the fabric of her pyjama pants. And when both hands settle at the small of her back, she once more leans against him, both arms circling his waist.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assures her. “Everything’s going to work itself out. As long as we put the work in. And as long as we stick together.”

“Lord knows we’ve been through worse.”

“That’s the understatement of the century. All I know is that I’m all in. No matter how rough it gets. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Who says I want to? I hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me. For a really long time.”

“Yeah?” With a hand on the small of her back, he uses gentle fingertips to push hair away from the sides of her face and out of her eyes. “Well, I can think of worse ways to spend the second half of my life.” Placing a palm on the nape of her neck, he pulls her into him, fingers kneading at the tense muscles as she rests her head against him. “It really IS going to be alright.”

“I’m scared,” she admits. “About tomorrow.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m a little…unnerved…myself.”

“Okay, now that doesn’t fill me with the utmost confidence,” she teases. “When the mercenary is having second thoughts, that’s not a good sign.”

“No second thoughts. I’m not questioning whether or not I should have ever come here. I would have taken the job whether it was you involved or not. Just…”

“It’s just personal. Very personal.”

Tyler nods. “I’m having a hard time.; separating those two sides of me. The merc side and the one that’s just a normal guy, worried about his family.”

“Maybe it was better if I didn’t call you. If I’d just gone with someone else…”

“Don’t say that. Don’t EVER say that. You did the right thing. As much as a kick in the balls it was to see my secret kid walk into the room…”

“I don’t want to fight. If we start talking about it, we’re going to fight and I don’t…”

“All I’m saying is that despite everything dropped on me, you did the right thing. By having Nik reach out. If you hadn’t have and I found out about all this later, THEN I would have completely lost my shit. If you’d hired someone else…”

“You were the only person on the list. Nik tried; to convince me to go with someone else.”

“Of course she did. ‘Cause hiring me meant I’d found out about the bullshit she’s pulling for the last five years.”

“She only did what I asked. And she fought me about it. All the time. Please don’t hate her, okay? I’m the one who brought her into all of this. I’m the one who asked for her help five years ago. I’m the one who put her right in the middle of this. And you know what? She’d do the same for you. If you needed that kind of help. You know she would.”

“It’s hard. Accepting it. That she lied all that time. She knew how bad off I was off and she could have ended it. All she had to tell me was that you were okay. And that it wasn’t my fault. That’s all she had to do.”

“If you’re going to hate anyone, it should be me.”

“Don’t start that again.”

“ I’m the one dragged her into it. Who dragged ALL of these people into it. I’m the one that fucked up, Tyler. So please don’t take this out on Nik or Yaz or anyone else. Because they were just trying to help. And if I’d never put them into the middle of all this…”

“You didn’t have much of a choice. You had a hell of a scare put into you. Like I said, I understand that part. And I swear if you apologize to me one more time for ‘dragging me’ into things…”

“It’s just such a mess. Alessio’s family? They are horrible, evil people. They aren’t going to just stop, you know. If we get out of the city, they will do whatever they can to find us. And they will. Eventually.”

“And then I deal with it. They catch up to us, I handle it.”

“You’re one man. You’re not invincible. And I just got you back: Millie just finally got her dad in her life. So if anything happens to you…”

“Nothing is going to happen to me. That’s something you don’t need to worry about.”

“You should know better than to tell ME…of all people…not to worry.”

“Then just trust me. I know what I’m doing. I’m not a rookie. If I say I can handle things and I have them under control, just take my word for it. Can you do that?”

“Depends. Can I still worry at the same time?”

“If you can manage both, I don’t see why not. I know how good you are at multitasking. I lived with you for a year.”

“And that was the best year of your life, buddy. Don’t deny it.”

“What’s there to deny? It’s the truth. It was a little…rough…at first. Getting used to you and your shit, but…”

“Me and my shit?” Esme laughs. “Who was the one who managed to get himself shot in the neck and nearly die and end up in hospital in Dubai? Do we really need to name names?”

“Technically, I was shot SIX times, but…”

“It was a little rough. Getting used to living with someone. Learning about their little quirks and what makes them tick and drives you absolutely insane about them. But I liked it. Being with you like that. We definitely had more good times than bad.”

“We were on a pretty good roll, weren’t we? When it came to things going good?”

“We were. And I’m sorry. That I screwed it up so badly. That was the last thing I wanted.”

“None of that matters now. Not when it comes to where we go from here. Might be a little hard getting used to you all over again…”

“You poor baby. My heart bleeds for you.”

“But…” Both hands find her ass, squeezing firmly as he pulls her tightly against him. “...I think I’ll manage.”

“I’m willing to put in the hard work if you are. We’ll just dig in our heels and take it one day at a time. Just ignore the rest of the world and concentrate on each other and Millie and what’s going on under our roof. Sound like a deal?”

Nodding, he covers her mouth with his in a long, soft kiss. “It’s a deal.”

******

They relax on the couch. Enjoying the last moments of silence before Millie and Abuela wake and Nik and the rest of the team begin arriving; anxious to arrange the final pieces of the puzzle. Tyler sits sideways, leaning back against the arm of the couch with one leg stretched out and the other dangling hanging over the edge. Esme content between his splayed thighs; resting back against him as she sips a tea and he keeps a lovingly yet protective hold on her. A forearm lying across her collarbone, and his free hand lightly placed on her stomach.

“She’ll be up soon,” Esme eyes the bedroom door over the rim of her mug. “And the havoc shall begin.”

“I mean, she’s been amazing with me. But I also haven’t been around her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for nearly five years, so…”

“Oh, just you wait. You haven’t had the full Millie experience yet. She’s been on her best behaviour; she adores you and she’s trying her best to butter you up and just reel you in. I think she’s worried you might be temporary; that you’ll leave as soon as the bad guys are dealt with. That scares her. She’s already really attached to you. She doesn’t want to lose you.”

“I guess I’ll have to prove to her that that’s not going to happen. Same way I’ll have to prove it to her mumma. Tell both of you as many times as I have to; that I’m not going anywhere and you’re both stuck with me.”

“What a horrible, miserable life to lead.” She teases, then tips her head back and smiles up at him.

“I have to admit, she CAN be a handful. I don’t where she finds the energy. I’m used to going days without sleep sometimes, but THAT girl? She can wear me out.”

“You know she gets that from you, right? The whole ‘not being able to sit still for longer than five minutes’ thing? And as far as being a handful, that’s definitely YOUR DNA.”

“You gotta be kidding me. She gets all the bad stuff from her mother.”

Giving a derisive snort, she playfully elbows him in the stomach. “You wish! She is all you! That is all Rake DNA inside of her. My genes didn’t stand a chance! Did I mention she can be extremely grumpy? Especially first thing in the morning? And that she’s insanely stubborn?”

“And you’re not stubborn? You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Other than yourself, you mean. You are way worse than I am!”

“I don’t even come close. You are by far a million light years ahead of me. In the stubbornness department.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles, and then giggles when he lightly pinches her side and presses a kiss to her temple. And for several minutes, they sit in companionable silence; his eyes closed and his nose pressed against the side of her head as her nails repeatedly brushing along his forearm.

“What’cha thinking about?” Esme inquires, momentarily leaving his embrace in order to lean sideways and place her empty mug on the coffee table.

“You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Christmas.”

She tilts her head back to look up at him, an eyebrow arched quizzically. “What?”

“I was thinking about Christmas. There were a couple of other things in there too, but it was mostly that. How we’re going to have to get a tree and decorations and stuff for outside and presents and…”

“Babe, it’s more than a month away. We haven’t even got to Thanksgiving yet.”

“Yeah, but that’s an easy holiday. Just eat a lot of food and pass out on the couch while watching footie. Now Christmas…”

“When did you get so interested in celebrating Christmas? You thought I was crazy for wanting go all out; when we lived in the little shack in The Kimberley.”

“Look where we lived. Who would want to celebrate Christmas in that place? And you got your holiday in the end; we got you a tree, I put lights up outside, you did up the inside…”

“And you bitched and moaned the entire time. But I do appreciate it; you putting in the effort to make ME happy.”

“I had my reasons. For not caring about Christmas. We talked about them. Extensively.”

“And what about now? Those reasons still exist.” ‘ “Yet, but much more important ones exist, too. I’ve got a family. I’ve got a soon-to-be wife and a little girl. And it’s her first Christmas. With me. With her dad. I just want it to be perfect. For her.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to the side of his wrist. “You are so cute.”

Tyler scowls and then nips at her earlobe. “Shut up.”

“There is nothing with being called cute. Or sappy. Or adorable. You are all those things. But you’re also insanely hot and sexy and a total bad ass that can kill a man a hundred different ways with his bare hands.”

“It’s more like a hundred and fifty, but…”

“You are so many things rolled up into one. A total walking contradiction. People see how big you are and all the scars and the tattoos and that resting asshole you have going on ninety percent of the time and…”

“My WHAT?”

“Your resting asshole face. You don’t realize you’re doing it, but you have this very distinct ‘I’m going to rip your head off and shove it up your ass’ thing going on. And it happens to be extremely attractive and compelling, yet very terrifying and intimidating all at the same time.”

“You make absolutely zero sense.”

“People are scared of you. As soon as they look at you.”

“Millie wasn’t.”

“Millie isn’t scared of ANYONE.”

“You weren’t afraid of me. Were you?”

“I didn’t find anything to be afraid of. You had a nice smile. It’s soft. Gentle, even.”

“I never smiled at you.”

“You most certainly did. Maybe not that big, ‘crinkle the corner of eyes’ smile that you sometimes bust out, but it WAS a smile. When I was out on the porch with Lucy and I looked inside; you were watching me and when you realized I’d caught you, you gave this sweet, little smile.”

“You were imagining things.”

“I was not! I KNOW what I saw. It was a smile.”

“I do NOT have that kind of smile.”

“You do. And I saw it many times after that. In Dhaka, in the hospital when you were recovering, when we were living together…”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You can deny it all you want, but you do have a very distinct and very…likeable…side to you. It’s just that not everyone takes the time to notice it. What’s lying underneath all those scars and tattoos and all the rough edges. They don’t look past all of those things. Either that or you don’t LET them past them.”

“How did we go from talking about Christmas to talking about some weird smile you supposedly saw?”

“I knew you were different. As soon as I saw you. You weren’t like everyone else I’d ever come across on the job. And you especially weren’t like other mercenaries. You had a softness to you. A sadness, even. And humanity. A lot of humanity.”

“And you saw all of this standing in my kitchen in the outback?”

“I’m very observant.”

“You’re on drugs is what you are.”

“I know what I saw. I know what I experienced. Especially during those five days together. And you can deny it all you want, but you ARE different. Then the rest of them. And you let me see that. For some reason.”

“So, for argument's sake, say this stuff DOES exist. Say I do have this weird little smile, and I am different than anyone else and I let you see all of it. Guess it’s because I trusted you.”

“Which is odd, considering you don’t trust anyone. Or BARELY anyone, at least. And you certainly don’t trust them right off the bat.”

“Something must have told me I could. Maybe my instincts said you were good. And I’ve been living off those for years, and they haven’t led me wrong yet. Guess I listened to them.”

Smiling, she wriggles around on the couch until she’s facing him, perching herself on her knees before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. “Your instincts are very wise. And they have very good taste.”

“I swear to God if this is where you call me ‘cute’ for a second time in only half an hour…”

“Actually…” fingernails lightly and loving scrape at the nape of his neck). “...this is where I tell you ‘I love you’ and say ‘thank you for being you’.”

“And now who’s being a sap?”

“Spare me your mouthy bullshit and just kiss me, okay?”

“I’ll get mouthy with you. In all the ways you like best.”

“You’re a pig. Remind me why I put up with you? Why I tolerate your bullshit?”

“Because of the things I can do with my mouth. And my dick.”

“Well, at least you know your strengths and your main selling features,” she teases, yelping when he pinches the sensitive area just below her ribs. And when one of his hands clamps down on her ass and pulls her even tighter against him, her initial laugh quickly transforms into a long, drawn-out sigh; his mouth covering hers laughs in a long, deep kiss that causes her toes to curl and her entire body to shudder.

*****

Her eyes remain closed when he pulls away; smiling when she feels him peck the tip of her nose and then dropping her head into the warm, safe place between neck and shoulder. Content and relaxed in the familiarity of him; the smell that lingers on both skin and clothes, the wall of solid muscle that she lies upon, the warmth that radiates from his body. And the way his hand sneaks up the back of her shirt and his fingers find the small of her back; able to feel the callouses as he repeatedly strokes smooth, pale skin.

“What else were you thinking about? You said ‘stuff’. That’s plural.”

“I don’t know if you want to hear about those things.”

“They have to do with tomorrow, don’t they.”

Nodding, Tyler presses a kiss to her brow. “Yeah…”

“I guess it’s better to talk about it now; we certainly won’t have time once we get out on the street. Is it something to do with the plan? How you’re going to get me out of here?”

“No. I’m confident about that; I’m not second-guessing it at all. I know I can get you out of here. Safely. And to the airport. That’s not what’s eating at me.”

Rolling onto her stomach, she places her forearm across his chest and then rests her chin upon it. “What IS eating at you?”

“Do you think we made the right choice? When it comes to Millie? And sending her with Alcott?”

“You agreed that it was way too dangerous; extracting and transporting Millie and me together. You didn’t even feel comfortable doing it. And when someone with your experience and your skill set admits to not feeling good about something…”

“This isn’t the mercenary side of me talking. This is the regular guy side. The DAD side.”

“And what’s it saying?”

“That it needs to know we did the right thing. That we made the right choice. It’s not like I don’t like the guy; he’s damn good at his job, and we’ve had a pretty decent working relationship. There haven’t been any issues. But this is my kid we’re talking about. My little girl. That I didn’t even know existed until four days ago. And I need to know that we made the right choice. By picking him to look after her.”

“I wouldn’t have talked you into it if I didn’t think he was the best person for the job. I trust him, Tyler. With not just my own life, but Millie’s. And believe me, I don’t trust many people when it comes to her. I don’t hand her over to just anyone. I know how much he loves her, and I also know that he’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.”

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Just blindly trust someone like this. Especially with something so important. I just found out about her. I just became a dad again. And when I think about something happening to her…”

“She’ll be in great hands. Other than Nik and Yaz and maybe John, Alcott is the only one that I would one hundred percent trust with her. And seeing as the other three people will be busy doing their own thing and it’s a horrible idea to bring her with us…”

“I’ve already lost one kid. I don’t want to lose another one. Especially one I just found out about. I haven’t gotten a chance yet; to really get to know her. She doesn’t even know I’m her dad. What if…?”

“No. No. No,” she scolds, and places a palm over his mouth. “We are NOT playing that game. That is not a road we are going down. That leads to nowhere good. She’s going to be fine. She’s surrounded by people who love her and would do anything to protect her. These people are her family. They’re…”

His eyes darken; fingers curling around her wrist. Displaying more aggression than necessary as he pulls her hand away from his face. “I’M her family.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that they’ve known her all her life. Since she was just a little thing, still in my belly. I…”

“At least they got the opportunity. I wasn’t given a choice; whether I wanted to be there or not.”

“And I’ve apologized for that. Many, many, MANY times. And I don’t care if I have to apologize times more. You said it yourself; no one hates me for more than I hate myself.”

“I don’t want you hating yourself. And I don’t want you to keep apologizing. I don’t want either of those things.”

“Then tell me what I can do. Tell me what you want me to say. What you need me to do. Because whatever it is…”

“I want Millie to know. About me. That I’m her dad.”

“And we talked about that. We came to an agreement. That once we were in Australia and things settled and we got her into a routine, we’d sit down with her and…”

“No. That’s not soon enough. I want her to know NOW.”

“Tyler, with everything else that’s going on and everything she’s already been through…”

“Why are you underestimating her? Why aren’t you giving her the benefit of the doubt? When it comes to what she can and can’t handle. You said it yourself; how resilient she is.”

“Doesn’t mean I need to dump more things on her. I know she’s strong and tenacious but…”

“Is that how you see it? That you’re ‘dumping’ me on her?”

“No! Of course not! You’re taking everything I say totally out of context. It’s just big news, you know? It’s life-changing; finding how your dad’s been right under your nose for almost a week. She’s been asking about you…about her dad…for almost two years now. At least twice a week. But considering what she’s been through in the last five days…”

“None of that is my fault. What happened between you and Alessio. You took that job; knowing that Millie would be in direct contact with those people. You knew exactly who they were and what they were capable of, and YOU brought her into that. People talk about how I’d be the bad influence; a mercenary having a kid and putting a target on her back. Yet it wasn’t me; getting her mixed up in this bullshit.”

Esme sighs heavily. “I deserve that. And it’s not like I haven’t accepted the blame. You’re right; I took the job and I put her in harm’s way. But…”

“I came here because I needed to fix someone else’s mess. And I stayed because it WAS you. I could have easily said ‘fuck you’ and left. And a lot of guys probably would have. But I stuck around. Because I didn’t want anything happening to you. Or her. I agreed to put my own ass on the line so the two of you could live to see another day. So I think the least you could is hear me out. When it comes to why I want this.”

“ You’re right; it IS the least I can do. I don’t mean to lessen what you’re going through or how you’re feeling. It’s not intentional. I’m sorry, Tyler. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to.”

“You see how Millie loves me, yeah? I mean, she tells everyone she comes across. That she does. And she goes on and on about the things we do together; about going for pancakes and letting her watch that goddamn, fucking Bluey on my phone and how I didn’t let the bad guys hurt. She even talks about how we have the same favourite ice cream. And how good I am at tucking her in. She calls it a ‘Millie burrito’.”

“She adores you. She loves being with you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”

“I hate that she tells people I’m just her mother’s boyfriend. And says I’m just here to keep you and her safe and kick some’ asses. And I especially hate it when she calls me by my first name.”

“I know it does. I know it hurts. I can see it in your eyes; every time she calls you Tyler.”

“I have to hold back. With my own kid. I can’t treat her the way I want to. I can’t LOVE her the way I want to. And that’s not fair, Esme. Not when I had to miss four years of her life. Through no fault of my own. It’s not fucking fair, and you know it.”

“You’re right. It isn’t. It isn’t fair. At all.”

“Everything you know about me. Everything you know I went through. Especially when it comes to losing my son and the horrible fucking choice I made. You knew what that did to me. What it STILL does me. And not only did you keep Millie a secret from me, now you’re keeping me a secret from HER.”

“I’m not…”

“We talked about it. About having a family. About how much you wanted to be a mum. And I was more than honest with you about how scared I was. You knew it fucking terrified me; the thought of being a dad again and fucking it all up a second time. But I was willing to do it. I WANTED to do it. With you. And now I get that second chance and I can’t do anything with it. I have a kid I can’t even claim.”

“Why didn’t you say all that right at the beginning? When we first talked about it? Why didn’t you just come right about how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking? We could have come to a different decision. A compromise. Had I known all this…”

“This is no compromise. Not when it comes to her. Not when it comes to MY kid. We have to tell her. It’s as simple as that.”

“For her benefit or yours? Because if you’re thinking solely of yourself, I’m sorry. I can’t agree. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. But Millie comes first. She HAS to. She’s four years old, Tyler. She’s a baby still. And yeah, she’s strong and she’s resilient, but she’s still a little girl. A VERY little girl. And if you just want this because of how you’re feeling…”

“This isn’t just about me. When do I ever think of just myself? Be honest. When have I EVER been like that?”

“Never. You’re probably the most selfless person I’ve ever known. Selfless to a fault, even.”

“I know she’s been through a lot this past week. I’m not denying it. And it’s a hell of a thing she went through this morning. But do you see how she handled that? How quickly she bounced back? By the time she went to bed last night, it was almost like nothing ever happened. She was back to herself. She was bouncing around and telling jokes and fighting me on going to sleep. I mean, I had to read five stories for fuck sake. Before she’d even close her eyes.”

She manages a smile. “I told you she’s stubborn. She’s her father’s daughter.”

“But she’s also YOUR daughter. And all that strength? That bravery? That comes from her mother. You’re not giving her enough credit, Esme. I know she’s only four. But she’s resilient, and she’s smart, and she can handle way more than you think she can.”

“I just don’t want it being too much, you know? Emotionally. I don’t want it to be more than she can handle after everything else. And if I’m being totally honest? Selfishly speaking? It kind of scares of me. How she’s going to react.”

“You’re worried she’s going to be angry. At you.”

She struggles to hold back her tears. “I’m worried she’s going to hate me. For not telling her sooner. For not taking her to meet you before all of this.”

“Hey…” Tyler cradles her face in his palms. “...she’d never hate you. You’re her mum. Look how much she loves you. How much you love HER. You’ve always given her that; she’s always known how much you love her and how you would do anything for her. She’s happy, and she’s healthy, and she’s so fucking smart. She loves the world and everyone and everything in that. That’s because of YOU. How you’ve brought her up. How could she EVER hate you?”

“I lied to her. About you. She’s going to wonder why. She’s going to ask questions. A lot of them. I know her.”

“She’s got questions, and we’ve got answers. We don’t need to hide anything. There’s nothing for either of us to be ashamed of. There’s no deep, dark, dirty secret. The truth isn’t THAT ugly, Me. It isn’t. And I am one hundred percent sure she’ll understand; why you did what you did. And if she hears it from BOTH of us…”

“This is just such a mess. Had I not waited this long to tell her….”

“A little late now, don’t you think? It’s done. I’m here. And we are in one hell of a fucking mess.”

“I’m assuming you mean the job and not THIS.”

He nods.

“So what do we do? What’s the plan? When do you WANT to tell her?”

“As much as I want to tell her as soon as she gets up, I think we need to hold off. Until we get home. And then we do it ASAP. We don’t hold off. No waiting for things to settle or a routine to be put in place. We just do it. Everything else can come later.”

“And we’ll do it together?”

“Took us both to make the baby, yeah?”

“Well, I DID to all the hard work,” she chides. “You merely got your ten minutes of fun.”

“Excuse you? Ten minutes? I’ve been going more than ten minutes since I was sixteen years old. WAY more.”

“What do you want? A cookie? A cake? One that says ‘congratulations, you came inside of me’?”

He smirks. “You really ARE a smart ass.”

“You love my ass.”

“I do. Sometimes a little too much.”

She rests her forehead against his. “I am so sorry, Tyler.”

“For what? Having a great ass? For making me a simp for it?”

“I can’t believe you even know that word.”

“Your slang does eventually get to Australia, you know.”

“I meant I’m sorry for all of this. I’m sorry for leaving, and I’m sorry for not telling you about Millie. I’m sorry for not getting a hold of you a lot sooner; for not having the courage to just bring her to you. You deserved to know. That you were a dad again. You deserved to be there. Through everything. Especially when she was born. And I’m sorry I took all of that from you.”

“I don’t need to keep hearing ‘I’m sorry.’ I KNOW you are. I don’t doubt it for a second. What I need is for you just to let me go off. When I NEED to. You’re my person, Esme. You always have been. And don’t want that changing. So what I need is for you to just let me get all this shit out. And not take it personally when I do.”

“I can do that. It’s kind of hard, though; NOT taking it personally. I’m the one who did all this. Made such a mess of things.”

“And everything’s going to work out. We have been through a hell of a lot worse. If we can get through that THAT? I don’t think there’s much we can’t get past.”

“We need to get through tomorrow first. Before we can even start concentrating on what’s next. And if something goes wrong…”

“You just let me worry about all that, okay? That’s part of my job. Goes along with this whole bodyguard thing.”

“I have to say…” She once more leans her body against his, chin resting on his chest. “...you guard the body VERY well.”

“Is that what the kids call it these days? ‘Guarding the body’? I really need to brush up on my slang.”

“Millie will teach you. She’s four going on fourteen some days. She’ll have you saying ‘sus’ in no time.”

“What the hell does that mean? ‘Sus’?”

“Short for suspicious, I guess. I don’t know. And I don’t ask. She’s four; she doesn’t understand half of what she learns and repeats. Which is why you’re going to have to watch your mouth around her. Or she’s going to have the vocabulary of a drunken sailor by the time she starts school.”

“No one thinks anything of it in Australia. Kids throwing the word ‘fuck’ around.”

“I just rather she not be one of them. Just in case the Wicked Witch of the Mid-West ever does meet her.”

“You don’t want her telling her grandmother to go fuck herself?”

“What I want and what is acceptable are two entirely different things.”

“Just for you, I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“For you, being on your best behaviour means not getting shot half a dozen times.”

“Well, lucky for you, that’s going to be all behind us. Once this is over, that’s it. I walk away. For good.”

“And you’ll be happy with that? Retiring? From this life anyway?”

“I will. I’ll have everything I need at home. Why risk losing that?”

Smiling, she pecks the tip of his chin. “That’s a very good answer.”

Using gentle fingertips to push strands of hair behind her ears, he cradles her face in his palms; eyes never leaving hers as the pads of his thumbs graze along the tops of her cheeks. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You just have to trust me.”

“I do,” she assures him, and once more lays her head upon his chest; releasing a sigh as she tucks her head under his chin. “With my life.”

[elgascreamslikehell]

WIP Wednesday

Cause it's still wednesday in Paris and I'm also in Paris.

I'm not tagging anyone but if you for some reason want to know where this is going - interact with this and I'll tag you next time!

***

Buck hears the door open and freezes, not entirely awake. Maybe it's already morning? Hell it's so uncomfortable not to see. He should have been more careful on that call. Ok, it's too quiet for morning, so it should be still night. He finds his phone and turns it on.

'Five hours thirty six minutes', - it's totally not morning. But… he could swear he heard the door. Who could it be? 

Buck leaves the bed, finds the bat - kinda funny Eddie keeps it here - and goes to the hall 

'Who's there?!', - well, what else can he do right now? Attack first, ask later could be rude! And blind attacks could totally break something. The answer leaves him unarmed: 'Buck… put my bat down, it's me'.

'Eddie? What are you doing here?', - Buck was pretty sure he'll come back only in the morning. Or even the next day, after the shift. 

'I live here', - Eddie smiles. Even not seeing Buck can tell, something in Eddie's voice is changing when he smiles: 'I know. I mean… Didn't you have a date?'

There's this noise when Eddie puts off his jacket before he speaks: 'Yes. I had a date. Now I'm here.', - usually, in Buck's mind, dates with this context don't end up in the middle of the night, so he says it: 'I thought you'd stay there'

Pause

'Well, i did not. Put the bat away, Buck, and go back to sleep, I'm sorry i woke you up'

'You didn't answer our texts, Chris was worried!',- actually, Buck was much more worried after all but hardly likely it makes sense.

'I know. I apologize in the morning. Now I just want to lie down. So let's postpone this talk, okay?' 

Something in his voice sounds wrong but Buck can't guess what specifically

'Okay… everything is fine? I mean…', - how did the sex go, that's what he means. But who asks this kind of question? 

'Evan, please…', - he is really tired and needs to think about a lot of stuff. And take an Advil. Discussion is just not on the table now

'Fine. I can wait for you, if you want', - it's really strange how fast Buck creates a habit to sleep with Eddie using him as a big comforter. Giant pillow. Enormous hugging toy. Eddie just emits coziness and calmness. Not that it doesn't bother Buck but to be honest not that it's bothering him that much

'Not today. Sorry. By the way, can I use your car?'

'Well, yes, it's still at the station but I'll give you the keys. Why?'

'I need to go to the mall. Buy a new phone', - now there should be a pretty fucking good explanation and Buck demands it: 'I meant why you can't use your car but now i also have a question about your phone. Is everything ok?'

Pause

'Well, there's a possibility I've got into some accident and broken my car. And lost my phone. And..',- Buck hears Eddie stumbles: 'And also got a light concussion'

Buck freezes: 'Excuse you? Accident? Concussion?', - Chris was right. Something was totally wrong. 

'It's nothing, really. Some bruises and this, i had a pretty good safety system as you know'

'Eddie..', - Buck tries, he really tries to be calm: 'What the hell are you talking about?', - well, he did try. He just didn't succeed.

'There's a big slam on the highway. Some trucks collapsed, twelve cars were affected.. there was 133 and our b-shift, so i helped for some time and then i was caught by captain Mehta and sent home', - Buck is mad. Like really mad: 'He sent you home?! Not to the ER?!'

Eddie laughs: 'I might say I have a personal first responder at home. I might miss the fact he's blind. And he checked me, so I'm fine. Just a little dizzy'

'You go to bed. With me. Don't argue. I need to control your state.'

Eddie keeps quiet for some time

'Fine. I'm too exhausted for this now. And too dizzy'

'I can call an ambulance', - actually that's a good idea, thinks Buck. Why the hell did you come home instead of the ER? Why the hell were you even driving somewhere??

'But what's with Eric then?'

'Oh fuck… I'll call him tomorrow'

'Eddie. I mean, you were on a date. How did you end up in the car crash?'

'Doesn't matter. Hell'

Buck hears him holding onto the wall and goes forward to catch his hand: 'I've got you', - that phrase gives Eddie a sad smile, fortunately Buck can't see it: 'Thanks, Evan'

***

[kaddyssammlung]

BPD / C-PTSD / bad relationship dynamics in Sleep Token lyrics - Part 1

Let's take another topic that I see in the lyrics and just take a closer look.

Of course it's something that I know from my life because it's the only stuff that I ever came up with so far.

Whatever.

So you guessed it: BPD / C-PTSD / strange relationship dynamics....

TW for general mental health stuff I guess

Fields of Elation

“Nobody else can pull me out”

That idealization that I sense in that.

To someone with BPD a partner or their child or anyone can be their perfect "one and only". They are perfect end of story. They can do nothing wrong. Ever!

So only they can pull him out.

“Your name is a sin I breathe, like oxygen”

And there goes the opposite. Either he is ashamed in some way of his feelings because no one else understands them or he has his doubts about whether someone is actually good for him or not.

I do see this as “splitting” or as I usually refer to it "black and white thinking". Someone is either everything to me or they are nothing meaning that they are dead to me. And yes this can change within seconds depending on what they are doing.

Don't reply to one of my text within a certain time? Dead to me! Reply in a nice way immediately: everything to me.

This is in the past btw.

Okay maybe I still have some of that in me. I should talk in the past tense. I'm afraid that at the end of this someone will say: yo...go to therapy again. I think you need it. I had enough of that. So...Idk...just thinking out loud.

When the Bough Breaks

“even when we run with death”

It makes me think about my ex-boyfriend and how we shared some unhealthy coping mechanisms. When your answer to your intense feelings is always something unhealthy and your partner shares that with you, it does not go very well. Let's leave it at that. (I said enough about SH and stuff like that...don't feel like bringing it up again)

Calcutta

“wrapped and quartered … missing pieces find me”

Reminds me of a feeling of not knowing who you are. I don't remember much of my childhood until I was about twelve. Everything is just gone. It's dissociated from me.

“I sweat and I ache for Your eyes and the way you breath … I'm whole again”

It reminds me of relying on someone else. Not in a normal extent but more in a way that you need others to define who you are. Like I said, I don't really know who I am so I crave the attention of someone else. Especially compliments. Maybe this is one of the reason why I liked dancing and standing on the stage so much. Standing there....looking into the crowd and their cheer you and applaud and we also got standing ovations quite often.

I feel like when it comes to BPD and the arts or movies and television or music then you will find many that have that. Idk...that's just my guess.

All of this attention from someone else and he feels whole again. I get that.

Nazareth

“and I'll see you when the wrath comes”

I'm someone who will choose anger over sadness. I recently learned that this is a typical male – BPD- trait. Okay?!

Anyway....that blind rage that used to take over. I don't miss this. Not even a second I would turn into a monster. Scream, slam doors, scream at myself, hit others....myself...mostly myself but yes things happened.....That was a long time ago.

The Way That You Were

“and you think I don't notice the way that you were”

Well...there is no version of myself that I can go back to. It's not like something happened when I was already a bit older. No...a lot happened and it began in early childhood. It's devastating.

“How much did they hurt you?”

idk...let's put an example in here. I was one of those babies who would just cry for hours. So my mother told me that she stopped taking my crying seriously. She thought I cried over nothing and just left me crying.

How can you build trust in other humans when you start out like that?

“and how much did they break you?”

Until I had no idea who I was...?!

“and how far did they take you?”

Let's just say that when your parents are not around much, and you also don't trust them then you open the door for someone with bad intentions.

This whole song just screams early trauma for me. But that's just my way of seeing this.

Jaws

“and why you're taking it slow show me what wounds you've got … show what you've lost”

I don't want to talk about that today. Let's just say trauma and also just read my pinned post and you know what I've lost.

I feel like putting this in here again, what Vessel said about Jaws:

“Our jaws are the tools we have to rend apart. They show our concealed aggression, and take something once hidden and burst it apart. You don't know someone until you have seen them destroy something. Jaws is an exploration of the frustration which accompanies the sense that someone close to you is hiding their true self.”

I have destroyed so many things, actual physical things but of course also so many relationships.

So I can just relate to what he is saying.

I have to prepare some stuff because of Easter and I guess I will continue this next week or when I feel like it. I have so much already anyway. If someone is bored you can klick here.