#i however have NEVER put salt in anyones coffee (lying)

[butchbonerot]

I felt like designing a character who is a stud so that's what this is lol

[proceduralpassion]

I Don't Wanna Be Unfair | 05

Pairing: Jax Teller x OC (McKenzie Gilbert)

Summary/synopsis: Fresh off a broken engagement, McKenzie Gilbert has a one night stand with a random guy she never plans to see again. Soon after, their paths cross, which complicates several situations at hand.

Chapter warning(s): language, smut 👀 (oral sex; female receiving, PiV sex) , threatening behavior

WC: ~10.8k (i couldn't stop lol)

“Morning.”

Lisa had gotten back to the clubhouse early to let in the busboys who would help her clean up the mess after last night’s festivities. She had put the coffee pot on, mostly for herself, since she wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up at the relatively early hour. However, B had walked in about an hour or so after she had arrived. There were a few SAMCRO and Street Wolves lying around in either a few of the booths dead to the world, while the rest were either upstairs sleeping in a dorm room or in their own beds at home.

Brandon looked a little worse for wear, but way more alert and controlled than he could say for any of his Street Wolf and SAMCRO brothers. If it was anyone else, she would’ve poured them a cup of coffee or even corrected him and told him that it was actually closer to noon than morning, but instead, she simply chose to wish him a “good morning” and continue sweeping the floors. By now, she had finished up with the main area of the bar and was currently sweeping abandoned limes and deserted salt particles behind the bar.

Brandon came up to lean against it, looking around and grinning at Bobby, who was laying face down across two tables with one shoe off and the other dangling off his foot.

“The SAMCRO boys know how to party just as hard as we do, huh?” He cracked as he pointed at the sleeping man.

Lisa gave a small smile, “Guess so. They weren’t the only ones having a good ol’ time last night.”

If there was deeper meaning meant for those words, Brandon didn’t notice. Lisa had seen Rev last night trying to reel Brandon in and make sure he was on his best behavior. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had pulled some sort of asshole stunt like trying to hook up with a girl right there in front of McKenzie. She was glad that he kept it cute and glad that McKenzie decided not to come to the party. She wouldn’t put it past him to completely disregard her feelings the very day that he had announced their split.

Lisa was still trying to wrap her head around things. How things got from them working on their problems to just up and announcing that there would be no wedding. It wasn’t like this was a quickie engagement where the two had just met. McKenzie and Brandon had been together for almost five years and in each other’s lives for much longer, considering how long Brandon had been a part of the club. Neither of them were yielding much info to go on, which is perhaps why Lisa couldn’t help but dig just a little.

“Fancy seeing you here, figured you might’ve stayed home to nurse your hangover.”

“Yeah, I think we’re all supposed to meet up here once everyone’s up so Teller can take us to the site he was talking about yesterday.”

Lisa hums in response and waits a minute before she asks, ”So, how are you doing with everything?”

She looks up from her sweeping as she asks, waiting to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows raise slightly but the wide grin doesn’t fade.

“As well as I can be, I guess. Breakups are always hard.”

Lisa hummed casually, “Hmm. Well, why did you?”

Brandon blinked, “Sorry?”

“Why did you break up with her, then?”

“Uhh, well, like I said yesterday, it was a mutual decision,” Brandon frowned as he carefully responded to her.

“Are you sure about that, Brandon?,” Lisa put the broom back in its place and grabbed a nearby washcloth to wipe down the counters, “Because McKenzie made it sound like it was a decision you made.”

Lisa’s face betrayed no emotions as she spoke, her focus on sanitizing the bar counters. Brandon’s mouth opened and closed as he tensed. She took advantage of the momentary silence instead of awaiting a response. That wasn’t what she was looking for. It was his facial reactions and stance that told her more than any words he could’ve used to circle out of the conversation.

“You don’t have to tell me. I mean, it’s not really my business, but I can’t help but be curious. You two were getting married, after all.”

She didn’t say anything else. In fact, she finished up wiping the counters and got her things to leave, so that he wouldn’t continue the conversation either. She called out to the busboys and advised them on what to finish cleaning before the bar opened back up to the public. Bidding Brandon a goodbye, she was out the door to enjoy her lunch break and time away from the clubhouse.

*********

Anger.

She’d finally been able to pinpoint and just carouse in one specific emotion. It had taken her days of floating in several of them for her mind to finally untwist and unwrap itself from all its complexities and just settle on one emotion. She had just woken up from her usual post-shift nap that she’d take after a 24 hour shift as a paramedic and found herself flooded with ire.

At Brandon. At herself. At the world.

It was much like the anger and animosity that had brought her to the Disora bar a few nights ago. The anger that Jax had brought out in her.

She knew the anger needed to be channeled in something if she was to be productive for the rest of the day. She could’ve gone to a dance class, but she hadn’t been in forever and she knew she probably fell behind in some of the techniques. Brandon had told her to drop them since there was really no point since she was getting more than enough exercise in their bedroom. She could’ve started a new book, but Brandon complained that her collection took up too much space in their house, so most of her books were in storage. She could’ve watched something on Netflix on her iPad, but Brandon had already changed the password and she didn’t feel like texting Sairah at work for her password.

Her anger grew even more as she realized she didn’t even have a way to channel it right now.

She threw her iPad on the bed and soon after, kicked it to the floor when it made a noise that indicated she had a message. Two minutes later, the alert dinged again and McKenzie knew she needed to acknowledge it if she wanted any peace.

| From Lise: Let’s grab lunch, I’m feeling tacos Sent at 12:09 p.m.

McKenzie sighed. She really didn’t want to go, but knew that Lisa would keep pushing until she confirmed for herself that she was doing alright. Her stepmother had already texted a few times just to confirm that McKenzie was hanging in there and had someone to talk to if she needed to.

| To Lise: Getting dressed. I’ll meet you at El Barrio in 20 Sent at 12:12 p.m.

And with that, McKenzie rose up to throw something on.

********

“You weren’t kidding when you said this place was like a ghost town, Teller. Looks straight out of a Western.” Flu claimed.

The Street Wolves and SAMCRO found themselves in the middle of the so-called ghost town that Jax had led them to. It was the afternoon after the party and everyone’s hangovers were mostly cured over coffee and greasy food after a quick meet up at the clubhouse. It was mostly an impromptu thing that he thought to play by ear, but Jax figured it was as good a time as any to take them by the deserted township, since most of them had already crashed there the night before.

There were patches of desert all along the path that took them to the small, quiet nook of land. Homes were few and far between as they took their time circling around the surrounding areas. When Jax led them down the main street, they found several false front buildings, complete with vertical facades and double story designs that housed apartments on the top floors. The more they explored, the more it looked like the bar, Disora, was one of the only functioning businesses in the area.

Jax flared his arms outwards as he walked around and took in the open expanse.

“Open real estate, brothers.” He connected eyes with everyone, ignoring yet intrigued at the silent fuming emanating from Brandon, as he spoke. “We could build this town from the ground up and make it ours.”

It would be something that took time. Especially if they wanted to do it right, but in the end, it could be something that was incredibly lucrative for the two clubs. There would still need to be some exploration of some quick ways they could earn money in the meantime, but with the right vision, brains, and focus, this could be the very thing that sustained their alliance for years to come.

As everyone took the time to look all around and envision the potential treasures that lie ahead, Jax settled back and indulged in the hopefulness and hunger in all of his brothers, both new and old. He could see the cogs turning and determination set in their eyes as they, too, could now tangibly visualize the promising future right in front of them.

It was all the confirmation he needed that they were edging forward in the right direction.

With their minds now committedly attached to a clear purpose, they got on their bikes and rode off.

******

Surprisingly, Lisa behaved at lunch. There was no mention of Brandon, no peering questions, and only one “How are you?”. They mostly just used the time to catch up and enjoy each other’s company. McKenzie talked about how she was preparing for her shift at the fire department tomorrow and some of the latest, wackiest calls she’d been on in the past week. Lisa raved over the new drink she added to the menu at the bar that seemed to be doing well with the customers. Together, they took a selfie and sent it to Sairah to elicit a little jealousy from her. Her “the betrayal is real” response back earned a laugh from the both of them.

It wasn’t until they were both parked at the clubhouse that McKenzie had realized that all her earlier anger had mostly dissipated. She smiled to herself at the realization and got out of her car to thank Lisa. Her stubbornness hadn’t allowed her yet to really open up and talk about things yet and she was thankful that Lisa could see that and simply get her mind off things.

When Lisa hopped out of her vintage black camaro, McKenzie immediately encased her within a hug.

“Thanks,” she simply said.

And nothing more needed to be uttered between them. Lisa registered everything meant in the one word.

When they disconnected, Lisa gave her a little pat and gestured towards the door.

“Go say hey to your daddy before you bounce. I’ll be in in a minute.” she directed while retrieving a cigarette from her purse.

All of the motorcycles outside indicated that they were back from their earlier excursion. In fact, if she even stopped to touch one of them, she would probably feel the heat emitting from the just turned off engines. Nevertheless, she was confronted with a different kind of heat as soon as she walked through the building’s side door.

“Hey!” Brandon shouted as his eyes lasered in on her. He’d still been silently steaming from his earlier conversation with Lisa, not enjoying her ruminative eyes or the suggestions laced under her innocent questions. He steamed all during their group excursion, not saying much, even as he took in all of the open land and abandoned buildings throughout the ghost town. He’d been silently pacing in the fifteen minutes they’d been back, not having any way to unleash his displeasure until she entered his line of sight.

McKenzie looked up immediately, her eyes widening as she saw Brandon charging towards her. Some of the club members who were currently witnessing this encounter and the current patrons of the bar mirrored her shocked look on their own faces.

“I don’t know what lies you’ve been spreading around here, but knock it the fuck off!”

McKenzie shrinked into the adjacent wall and stuttered with unsteadiness, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“B,” Rev cautioned in a low voice. His hands were faltering downwards, signaling for him to take it down a notch. Instead of assuaging him, B walked right past him and continued marching towards McKenzie, who was still in the narrow alcove between the side door and open space of the bar. Most of the bar patrons sitting at the counter couldn’t even see her, only now having a peripheral view of B’s back.

“You trying to frame me as the bad guy here, that’s what I’m talking about!” He slammed his hand against the wall, causing McKenzie to jump in her skin.

Rev had followed him and now moved between the two of them, positioning himself in front of McKenzie.

“Take a walk.” The concurrent warning and calming in Rev’s voice had barely registered in Brandon, his furious eyes still pinned down on the startled woman.

“She’s been switching shit, trying to make herself the victim, man. I thought breaking up with her would end this shit!”

Before letting the man’s anger continue to thrive in the tight space, Rev moved forward, prepared to physically push him if he didn’t step back. The bar patrons continued to look on with intrigue and nosiness at the domestic situation, while the SAMCRO and the Street Wolves, who were downstairs, mostly looked on in shock at the scene that was unfolding in front of them. That shock and the battling conflict between stepping in prevented them from making a split decision. Nobody wanted to butt into a brother’s personal business, but the situation was getting dicey.

Jax was witnessing the entire encounter with indignation rising in him the longer it went on. He had noticed the man seeping in quiet vehemence that had only continued to grow once they got to their destination earlier. He saw it even when they got back, watching the man steam until he had looked behind the SAMCRO president at the sound of the side door opening.

And now, as he looked on at the few Street Wolves who were also watching the confrontation, too stunned to move, he reckoned that it had gone on long enough.

“You need to calm down right now,” He heard Rev advise, almost sure that Brandon was two seconds away from getting decked, judging by the chilly intonations in Rev’s words.

“Or what?! This is between me and-”

“Hey!,” Jax called and then softened his voice before continuing, “Think about what you’re doing, bro. You’ve got a bunch of customers who can hear everything you’re saying, probably scaring a few of ‘em. Then, you’re getting ready to fight with your brother. You’re pissed, fine, but this ain’t a good look, man.”

Brandon opened his mouth to say more, but the warning in Jax’s eyes and the feel of Rev’s hands across his chest apprised him that he was in a battle he couldn’t win. He gave in, shooting a final blazing glare at McKenzie before scowling at Jax and pushing himself out of Rev’s grip.

Another slam could be heard as he stalked out through the front door to cool off outside.

Rev and Jax’s eyes fell on McKenzie, who instantly needed an escape. She closed her eyes, preventing the welling tears to pour out and climbed up the stairs, two at a time, away from everyone.

********

McKenzie sat hunched over on the bed in one of the dorm rooms, forcing herself to release steady, even breaths as she focused on her shoes. An hour had passed and she had yet to find the courage to walk out and make the run for her car.

Thankfully, no one had bothered her, but she knew the entire clubhouse knew by now. Even the ones who weren’t downstairs to watch the showdown, had to have the insight on what exactly went down. And she knew that Lisa was now aware if her hollering heard from behind the dorm door was any indication.

Her actual words couldn’t be deciphered, considering it was taking place downstairs, but McKenzie caught the gist of her stepmother’s ranting which consisted of “why didn’t anybody kick his ass?!” and “in the middle of MY bar?!”

She used the time in here to calm her nerves and reel herself back from the visceral fear that had taken over her body when Brandon came charging at her. She hadn’t expected the panic she felt. It was the first time in a while that she realized she was scared of him. That was a revelation, all on its own, that she needed to grapple with.

She was so lost in her hiding that she hadn’t realized another person had entered the room. Or even that that person had called her name. It wasn’t until she felt a hand touch her shoulder that she jumped out of her thoughts. Concern covered Jax’s face as he looked down at her hunched position.

“Sorry, darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you. I called your name, but…” He trailed off.

McKenzie immediately moved back from his touch on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” She responded, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Uh, your dad’s looking for you. He’s in the lounge.”

He didn’t tell her that her dad had been made aware of what happened, but he didn’t need to. The very statement that he was looking for her was enough to confirm her earlier thoughts. Without another word, she rose from the bed and made to walk out of the door. Jax’s next question stopped her.

“Are you okay?”

“Never been better,” she snapped, affording him a side profile of her face that displayed tiredness.

“McKe-”

“What? What do you want?,” with loss of patience heavy in her voice.

“To make sure you’re alright.”

And just like that, her earlier anger returned in full force.

“Oh, so you’re some nice guy now, hmm?”, she bit back, “I don’t need your fucking pity. We’re not friends, I barely fucking know you!”

“It’s not pity-”

“So, what is, then?! Guilt? Guilty that you slept with me now that you know the only reason I was at the bar was because I got dumped?” Her voice was sharp and she wasn’t letting him get a word in, edgewise. “Well, too fucking bad for you because I don’t give a fuck! I needed a distraction and you were there. That’s it. That’s the entire extent of our relationship. I’m not here to soothe your fucking guilt and I don’t need you to act like you care about me.” Her bitter words remained in the air with a confused and indignant Jax even after she slammed the door and strode down the hall to the lounge.

When she walked in, her steps immediately halted when she saw that Brandon was already in there with her dad.

Gil gestured for her to come in and she only walked a few steps further, opting more the greatest amount of distance between Brandon and herself.

Leaning against the long glass table, Gil looked between the two of them, obviously unimpressed.

“So, I heard about what happened earlier...” He began.

“Gil, I’m sorry.” Brandon cut in. Gil narrowed his eyes as the younger man continued, “I let my anger get the best of me, it shouldn’t have happened.”

“I believe I made it clear to both of you that I expected this to not get ugly or uncomfortable for everyone around. I mean, I’d like to think I could trust that you would be adults. Not to mention, this happened during business hours, in front of SAMCRO… Do you think this instills the kind of mutual trust we need to be building in order for this partnership to work?”

Gil’s voice became more rigid as he continued to speak, with Brandon following along and nodding as he listened.

“I understand, Prez. I was out of line, completely. I let my emotions get the best of me when I should’ve just spoken to her calmly, sir. It won’t happen again.”

Gil gave a slight nod and then responded. “Good. Because if it does, I’ll knock your fucking head off. I’m not having this conversation with either of you again. Keep your personal problems out of the clubhouse. When you’re inside these walls, you’re family, so act accordingly.”

“Understood,” B acceded.

The two men looked at McKenzie before Gil prompted, “Kenz?”

She gave a nod and gave a low, confirming “yeah” though she was still unsure why she was also being admonished right now.

“Good.” He said to both of them before turning to Brandon, “You better go downstairs and wait some tables or shit to get on Lisa’s good side.”

Brandon nodded and headed for the door. McKenzie stayed rooted in her spot, waiting for him to pass her and exit.

“Kenz, you need something else?” Gil prompted, still leaned against the table. Brandon looked back with narrowed eyes, unsure of what she was doing.

Gil looked up at Brandon and sent him a shooing gesture as he studied his daughter’s face. Brandon paused at the door for another second before closing the door behind him and leaving.

“What is it?”

“I just… I don’t understand why I’m getting a lecture too, when I didn’t even do anything.” Gil sighed and looked down momentarily. “I literally just walked in and he just starts berating me and that’s somehow my fault, too?” Her words were full of confusion with flashes of hurt.

“Baby, this is exactly why I wasn’t the biggest fan of you two dating in the first place. Things didn’t work out and now look! My point remains the same, the two of you aren’t going anywhere but now you can barely stand to look at each other and it’s causing problems that are putting everyone in the middle. This can’t be the place where you two hash out all your problems.”

“So, the next time he comes up at me screaming and yelling in my face, slamming shit, that’s as much my fault as his, that’s what you’re saying?”

“First of all, there’s not gonna be a next time. Because if he does-”

“What, you’re gonna kick him out of the club?” McKenzie let out a humorless laugh and proceeded to answer her own question, “You’re not gonna kick him out just because he throws another bitch fit. That’s not really a club offense, so let’s not, daddy. You’re basically saying the next time he throws a tantrum, that’s just as much my responsibility, as if I control his actions.”

“Baby, that’s not what I’m saying-”

“No, it’s understood, dad. Don’t worry, you’re crystal clear!” She ignored the pleading in her dad’s voice for her to listen to him explain himself and shut the door behind herself. She didn’t have the time or energy to watch him struggle between father and president.

Instead, she stepped down the stairs and tread out to her car, sparing no one a second glance in the process. Right now, she needed to be as far away from this place as possible.

**********

Jax had been maneuvering back and forth between Red Woody and the Garden for the past few days. From approving changes to the website, overseeing shipments, and then working out a plan on how to begin purchasing property in what had become known as the “ghost town,” he had been constantly busy with the growing rise of tasks. So busy that he hadn’t noticed the recent changes at the Garden. It was December and Christmas was rapidly approaching. The place had already had the occasional holiday-themed decoration here and there, when they had their first brunch here. But now, it was like Lisa had gone overtime in making sure that everyone knew that the holidays were around the corner. The bar and clubhouse were decorated with wreaths, red ribbons, LED lights, small Christmas trees, a big Christmas tree in the corner, and even some mistletoe under the booths that he just witnessed some customers kiss under.

His heart warmed at the gesture and he realizes that this isn’t the Christmastime he saw for himself. It would be an entirely different time, compared to the past couple of years. His house would’ve been filled with festive decorations along with plenty of presents under the tree and holiday soundtracks constantly on replay. And besides the club, he would’ve been spending the day with his mom, wife, and son.

But none of those things would be happening this year or any year after that.

There was no wife. No son. Not anymore.

And his mother was no longer the woman who raised him.

Before he could get too absorbed in his own head and allow those depressing thoughts to lower his spirits, he shook himself out of it and shuffled his mind back to the present day. There was nothing he could do about the past, so there was no sense in wallowing in it.

“Hey, man.” Ace greeted as he exited the kitchen with a snack.

“Hey, Ace.” Jax responded, matching Ace’s strides towards the stairs.

It had been almost two weeks since the two clubs had gotten acquainted with one another. And in that time, they had all started to form close bonds. It didn’t take much, mainly food, beer and bikes. Those were the common threads that were already beginning to form a meaningful fabric amongst them all. They’d had a couple of other meetings to flesh out the early sketches of a plan on how to plunge through with their undertaking, usually followed by a meal, drinks, and riding out to a random location. And also just the other night, SAMCRO had decided to return the favor and host the Street Wolves for a night out in Charming. With no official clubhouse, they opted for inviting them to a wrap party for a recent Red Woody film.

“That was fun the other night, the Red Woody party,” Ace remarked as they climbed the steps, “Never been to a porn studio before.”

Jax chuckled at the young man’s loose grin and recalled the images of a drunken Ace having the time of his life, “Yeah, well, had to show y’all that the SAMCRO boys know a thing about partying too.”

Ace snickered while holding the door open for him to the lounge room. Jax knew that there was a private room downstairs behind the kitchen that the Street Wolves used as “church,” but Gil had repurposed the upstairs lounge room as the collaborative meeting room for both clubs. It seemed to also double as a quiet common space away from the downstairs bar area open to the public. Ace had snacks in his hand and judging from the paused screen on the nearby TV, he was getting ready to watch a movie.

“So, what you got going on for the holidays?” Ace asked.

“Uhh nothin’, probably just gonna enjoy the quiet. What about you?” Jax bounced the question back, as he usually did when he got the occasional question about his personal life.

Ace shook his head while tumbling on one of the couches, “Not from the area. Last year, I went to Flu’s because he usually cooks a lot,” He nodded to Brandon- who had just walked into the room and looked to be gathering his things, and looked back to Jax, “You could come along too. Flu won’t mind. I already invited Juice.”

“Maybe,” Jax said, non-committedly. He looked around the room and found a pen and paper he could use to write down a message to Gil.

“What, you guys talking about Christmas plans?” Brandon questioned with a grin.

“Yeah, I was just telling Teller about Flu’s. What about you? You doing anything special for the holidays?” Ace’s voice was careful as he asked the question, recognizing that his plans, up until recently, more than likely involved McKenzie.

“Well… McKenzie and I did have plans to get out of Highwater for a little getaway, but that’s obviously not happening,” He remarked as he put his jacket on, “But then I met this girl at the party last week and…” Brandon let out a whistle as his statement trailed off. “Long story short, she’s next level crazy which I found out last night, so problem solved!”

Jax’s gaze flashed to Ace, who was growing visibly uncomfortable. Ace had only just received his full patch a few months ago after a year of prospecting. Besides Jax and SAMCRO, he was the newest of the crew. He always felt incredibly awkward when he was witnessing the moments of discord between his brother and the president’s daughter. Even now, he grimaced at the mention of Brandon going on what was supposed to be a couple’s trip with a woman he’d just met. And he voiced as much, wondering if Brandon would realize how messed up it sounded if it was coming from outside of his own head.

“Sooo… you’re going on a trip that you arranged for you and McKenzie? But with another woman? A woman you just met less than two weeks ago?”

Jax bit his tongue and silently observed the encounter while writing down his note for Gil.

“Yeah, I mean, why waste the money? And the girl won’t know the difference, she seems excited. Hell, we’ll do whatever she wants as long as she does whatever I want when we’re back in the hotel room,” He joked.

Part of Jax continues to not want to pass judgment, especially knowing he, himself, hasn’t always been the most upstanding guy when it comes to women, but another part of him just can’t help but be bothered by Brandon. Even removing McKenzie out of the situation, it rubbed him the wrong way how dumb it was to flaunt around how happy you were to be free from the shackles of your relationship with the president’s daughter. It felt intentional, as if he took great pride in making it known that he was no longer in a relationship.

There was just something about the man that unnerved him. Something that told him that he wasn’t a dependable guy.

“Well, I, uh, hope you have fun,” Ace commented before turning his focus to the TV screen.

“Oh, I plan on it!” Brandon said, before walking towards the door and making his exit, patting Jax’s shoulder on the way out as a goodbye. “Catch you guys later.”

His progress in stepping out of the room was halted by the appearance of McKenzie.

“Oh, sorry.” He said before whizzing out the room.

McKenzie said nothing and merely side stepped to allow for distance between the two.

Both Ace and Jax watched the awkward, seconds-long encounter. McKenzie’s face was blank and she hadn’t looked up to make eye contact with either of them when she spoke up.

“Looking for Lisa, you seen her around, Ace?” She inquired.

“Uh, yeah, she’s in the back doing inventory.”

“Thanks.” And with that, she left to continue down the hallway for the back office where Lisa was currently working out of.

Jax silently hoped that she hadn’t heard what Brandon had just been bragging about, a trip that was once met for them being used on some random party girl. The man hadn’t exactly been shy or bashful in announcing his thoughts and the door wasn’t completely shut when she appeared. The thought of her overhearing that, especially after her last appearance here at the club house, left a disquieting feeling in his gut.

That, in and of itself, was confusing for him. He didn’t know why he felt the way he did about her, especially with the day she blew up on him in their last encounter. McKenzie had made her feelings for him perfectly clear that day. And with the intentional manner in which she didn’t acknowledge him at all just now only further reiterated her emotions towards him: she wanted nothing to do with him.

What worried him the most was that she hadn’t seemed to want anything to do with anyone. Since Brandon’s outburst nearly two weeks ago, she’d kept to herself, not visiting the clubhouse even once. From what he gathered, this had become a common occurrence even when the couple were still together. But the way she had been icing everyone out and isolating herself since two weeks ago was becoming a concern. He’d overheard Lisa relaying to Gil that the only reason she knew that McKenzie was alive and well was because she was living with Sairah. Other than that, she hadn’t been answering any phone calls or texts from her or Gil. It was clear that the older woman was becoming increasingly worried with her stepdaughter’s immersion in reclusiveness.

He felt bad for McKenzie, even if he’d never express it to her, knowing that that was a fail-safe way of getting lashed out at again. He pondered over whether the fact that she couldn’t stand him stemmed from him being the easiest target to hate or whether she genuinely couldn’t stand him. He couldn’t tell and maybe he never would. But even with the indignance and disgruntlement he felt towards her after their blazing moment in the dorm room, he still couldn’t help but care for her.

She was clearly struggling, but wasn’t allowing anyone close enough to help her.

He didn’t know what to do other than to let her be.

****************

McKenzie walked through the side door and desperately found the need to escape from the small, confined space that she had found herself in during Brandon’s confrontation. And as if to make things worse, the man himself, walked under the archway that separated the open bar space open to the public to the closed off area that led either to the kitchen or hallway with steps that go up to the upper level.

He had only given her the slightest of glances, obviously taking her father’s words to heart. His eyes swiped over her as if she was just another part of the wall. The feeling of invisibility under his gaze was actually a welcome feeling, compared to the targeted fury she’d been under the last time. The fear may have dissipated since then, but it still felt uncomfortable to be in such a tight space alone with him. He wasn’t stupid enough to actually do anything, but she still felt the need to pause and let him pass her before she moved herself.

Once he started walking up the stairs, she took a look into the bar area and sighed when her eyes hadn’t found Lisa. She then took a quick peek in the kitchen and found it empty. Her car was outside, so she knew she was there. She’d been getting phone calls and texts from pretty much everyone, checking in on her and making sure she was okay, but Lisa had been the biggest culprit in leaving voicemails and constant messages. As the days had passed, the messages from everyone had thinned out, the shock of Brandon’s actions probably already having worn off for them. Once he had put on his earnest frown and spewed his words of self-deprecation and how embarrassed he was for his behavior, it was as if he had done nothing. All was back to normal.

She didn’t have to be present in the clubhouse to know that Brandon’s apologetic behavior and words of remorse had been enough for everyone to forgive him and move on. That was part of the reason why she kept away. Why she had thrown herself into work, picking up overtime as much as she could. Why she practically locked herself away in Sairah’s guest room, only coming out to eat or leave the house.

She just needed time for things to blow over and for some semblance of normal to shift into place.

Lisa’s constant calling had been consistent, though. So here she was, at the clubhouse, showing her face, so that that could satisfy her stepmother and maybe not show her face for another two weeks.

Determining that she was not downstairs, McKenzie climbed up the stairs in search for Lisa on the upper level. As she got to the top step, she heard Ace and Brandon engaging in conversation, in the lounge room.

“Well… McKenzie and I did have plans to get out of Highwater for a little getaway, but that’s obviously not happening.”

McKenzie came to a halt at the barely cracked door as she listened to them speaking. He heard how he boasted of a girl he had met at the party a couple of weeks ago and much fun he had had last night with her.

“Sooo… you’re going on a trip that you arranged for you and McKenzie? But with another woman? A woman you just met less than two weeks ago?”

Fucking thank you, Ace, she thought as she listened to the unease in the younger man’s voice. She hadn’t had many conversations with Ace, but he had gained some respect in her eyes just now. Brandon, meanwhile, rattled off all the reasons how he’d justified it in his mind. As she heard him say his goodbyes, she found now a better time than ever to fully open the door and make her presence known. She knew he hadn’t given a single fuck whether she knew or not, but there was something less dignified in being caught snooping or eavesdropping in her mind.

He’d nearly collided with her, but they both side-stepped each other in time, as if their frames touching would singe each other’s skin.

She saw Jax in the room, but focused her eyes anywhere but him. She kept her eyes low, only sparing a glance to Ace as she asked where Lisa was. And when she got her answer, she left with a muted “thanks” and fled to her destination.

******

“Hey girl!” Lisa immediately lifted from her chair behind the desk and jogged over to hug McKenzie.

She couldn’t help the small smile that escaped her lips as she returned her stepmother’s embrace.

“Hey Lise.”

“How’re you doing, baby girl?” Once they had separated, Lisa rubbed McKenzie’s arms in a soothing motion.

“I’m alright,” she let out, with a sigh.

“Hmm,” Lisa gave her signature hum, but said nothing else on the matter, “Do you have next week off? Or does your shift fall on Christmas this time?”

McKenzie gave a hum of her own while realizing she had indeed taken time off for her weekend getaway with Brandon, “Technically, yeah, but I still may chip in and take some shifts. Got a bunch of firefighters and paramedics with kids at home, so if anyone wants to switch, I’ll volunteer.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, baby. You should at least use some of the time for yourself, though. Even if you don’t want to come by our house for Christmas dinner. I beat some sense into your father by the way, but I get it if you’re still a little mad at him.”

McKenzie chuckled, “Nah, it’s fine. I mean, I guess, I’m not mad at him anymore, but I was actually thinking, with the extra time, I might go visit my mom.”

And truth be told, she was still a little mad at him, but she knew where he was coming from. It still didn’t feel good, and soon enough, it’d blow over, like most of their father-daughter spats do, but she wasn’t currently interested in having a heart-to-heart moment with him. She wasn’t interested in having a heart-to-heart moment with anyone, which is why getting out of town and visiting her mom might be a good solution.

Lisa seemed to agree, “Oh, well that sounds fun! I’m sure she’ll enjoy getting to spend some time with you.”

“Yeah, nothing like announcing that your fiance dumped you to really get into the mommy-daughter bonding spirit,” she muttered.

“Wait, you haven’t told her?” Lisa’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Lise, you know my mom isn’t exactly the emotional type. She’ll say ‘oh well, it wasn’t meant to be’ and be done with it. I contemplated texting her and figured I’d save her the precious battery usage it’d take to send the message ‘ok’.”

She and her mom came to an understanding of their relationship a long time ago. It was why she felt no ill will or resentment as she described the sometimes coldness her mom emitted. And it was why the prospect of visiting her seemed appealing. She knew what to expect. They’d probably go shopping together and have a nice meal out, but the whole crying and comforting and carrying on was never her mom’s forte.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Lisa allayed, not knowing that a few days away from everyone here was exactly what McKenzie was craving.

McKenzie shrugged, “It’s alright. I haven’t spent a lot of time with her lately, it’ll be good for us.”

“Good. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

“Yeah,” McKenzie sighed, “Anyway, I just came to show my face so you knew I wasn’t dead.”

They both laughed and Lisa was thankful to see the smile on McKenzie’s face.

“Don't you worry, I was having Sairah send in daily reports to make sure you were alright, objectively speaking, anyway.”

“Yeah, I definitely saw her footsteps outside my door a few times,” McKenzie responded. She patted Lisa’s arm as a goodbye and said, “And don’t be too hard on dad, you know he gets all sensitive.”

“Then, he better get his head out of his ass before the couch becomes his new bed.”

*********

McKenzie had descended down the stairs and continued walking out into the bar instead of the side door she usually entered and exited through. She had popped into the lounge room and saw that only Ace occupied the space, watching a movie. There was a chance he had more than likely already left, but she needed to talk to him, even if she knew it probably wasn’t going to end well.

There was nothing good to come from the conversation, but she still needed to know. Like witnessing a car accident and not being able to look away, she was unable to stop herself in searching for answers that would only hurt her. She didn’t know if it was for sanity, or clarity, or closure, or what. She felt like once she knew, she’d be able to move on and cease all of the moving parts and emotions in her head, but a part deep inside her, knew that it wouldn’t help in the long run. That it wouldn’t matter.

It’d been on her mind constantly since that night she moved out. A revelation that she knew to be true even when she believed his words that he hadn’t. The thoughts had slowly faded over the time that had passed since then, but overhearing him discuss the women he’d been sleeping with had brought it back to the forefront of her mind. She’d drive herself crazy if she, at least, didn’t ask.

The night slip should have cemented the truth, but she needed to hear it from his mouth.

Her gaze snapped into focus as she saw the door at the front closing. She strode across the bar and upon opening the door, was met with the sight of him walking towards his bike.

“B!” His eyes widened when he looked back, not expecting to face her of all people when he turned around. “Can we talk for a second?”

“Whatever this is, drop it. You heard your dad-”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, I promise. I just need to ask you something.”

She started walking to him once he fully turned around and indicated that he was listening. She ignored the frustration on his face and impatience in his sigh.

“What?” He gnarled.

“How long?”

His head tilted in confusion, “How long what?”

“Had you been cheating on me?”

He looked away and clicked his tongue at the roof of his mouth. Shaking his head, he began backing up and starting towards his bike, “I’m not doing this, McKe-”

“Just tell me.” The steel in her words gave him pause, “We’re not together anymore, so let’s cut the bullshit. It doesn’t matter, right? So, how long?”

“McKe-”

“How. Long?” Her spine straightened as she bit out the two words and took a step towards him.

“A year..” His words were low and he only briefly locked eyes with her before swiping them out of her gaze.

It felt like she was free falling in the wind. Like her stomach was dropping down to her knees and hanging by the thinnest of tendons.

He’d been cheating on her since before he proposed, for almost as long as they’d been living together. For every step they’d been taking in their relationship, he’d been defiling his commitment and faithfulness to her.

Could she even call the last year of their relationship real?

“So, before you had the intention of marrying me, you were what? Just sowing your oats all over town?”

“McKe-”

“Stop. Fucking. Saying. My. Name. How many times?!”

Anger was flashing through her veins and she wondered if it was possible to be flooded with an emotion. If it was possible if the very essence of ire would just start pouring out through her fingertips, her eyeballs, her pores, any second now.

“I don’t know…”

His lame response had her seconds away from physically shaking with fury.

And without much control, she gave her own lame, pathetic response, “I- I don’t get it. Why? Why did you stay with me? Why did you ask me to marry you?!”

“I don’t know.”

McKenzie’s hands clawed at the air, the way she wanted to claw at his face. She walked back a few steps, breathing in gasps of air.

“I’m sorry, McKenzie.” He spoke quietly and with remorse, which only infuriated her more. She charged back at him and didn’t hide the pain and devastation on her face.

“Did you ever even love me?! At all?! Did you ever… want me?”

“I did… for a while..” he gulped as he spoke. The response cracked her heart so much that she wished he had lied and said he never had.

“Why didn’t you just end things?” she questioned after a few painfully silent moments, “If there was some part of you that loved me, why didn’t you just tell me instead of dragging this along for five fucking years?”

His eyes continued to avert her as he thought over his words with another sigh, “I guess I didn’t want to make things hard. For us or for everyone else. I thought it’d be easier this way.”

Bafflement colored her features, “So your solution was to get married?”

“I thought it would help.”

“Help with what?” she questioned, desperate to grasp his reasoning.

Even when his eyes wanted nowhere to do with hers, he found the wherewithal to look straight at her when he opened his mouth.

“I thought it’d teach me how to love you again.”

Her eyes fell closed as his words washed over her. She was still working through her mind that the past year of their relationship hadn’t been real, but now she was beginning to come to terms that it’d been a long time before that. He hadn’t loved her for a long time.

Getting engaged, to her at the time, was her fairytale ending.

For him, it was a crash course. A hail mary.

A shot in the dark that he’d somehow have all the magic answers needed to unlock his heart for her.

In his goals to make things “easier,” he’d wasted years of her life.

He’d given her hope. Through what problems they’d been having earlier, the ring that used to sit on her left ring finger gave her hope that they’d figure it all out in the end. Given her hope that they could work through anything together. He gave her hope and when he could no longer withstand the pressure himself, he crushed it like an ant under his shoe.

Unable to look at him further, she walked towards the side of the building and off to where her car was parked. Noise had begun filling in her head after the silence that had made a home between them during their showdown. Tears had begun welling in her eyes but she slapped them off her face like pests.

She woke up this morning thinking, well shit, it couldn’t get much worse than this.

And today, it just had.

**********

McKenzie sat in her car with the random radio station still humming as she looked at the house. She’s not entirely sure how she ended up here in Charming after hours of driving around Highwater, but she was too amped up to question or second guess herself.

The sun was beginning to set now and the sky was a gradient of purple and pink.

His bike was outside, so she knew he was home. Only she didn’t know if he was home alone. The topic of his relationship status never came up and even if he was single, he definitely wasn’t celibate. There still could be someone inside and she had absolutely no idea what she was getting into here, but she still hadn’t left.

Something was keeping her here. Away from going back to Sairah’s and packing a bag to visit her mom.

She needed something that she knew very well he could give her. A chance to forget.

Her entire being was so fried that she just needed a break. From thinking. From hurting.

He could give her that, a few hours free from the trainwreck of her life.

When she was sure that the chances of her backing out were now non-existent, she finally cut off her car and got out. The air had the slightest of bites to it, which put some pep in her steps as she walked the path to the front door. The closer she got, the more resolved in her steps she was.

She looked at the door for a moment and has a vague memory of being pushed against it during their night together. The thought awakens her, which is the final enticement needed for her to knock on the door.

Jax was shocked to say the least once he opened the door and was met with her face. He had his gun nearby, just in case, but figured it was a neighbor or something. His eyes widened at the sight of her and his mind began to speculate on why exactly she was standing in front of him right now.

“Hey..” he manages to say.

“Hey.” she greets back, “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your night…”

Her mind may have been resolute in its task, but she didn’t really know how to go about it, she was realizing.

He stepped to the side and let her inside while replying. “It’s fine, you weren’t interrupting much of anything.”

Part of him regrets just letting her in the way he so easily had, considering he didn’t know her intentions. As far as he was concerned, she hated every fiber of his being.

Closing the door behind her, they both just look at one another in the clumsy silence. McKenzie was the one who came here, so Jax is waiting to hear what she obviously has on her mind, but he also doesn’t want to come across as rude. Which is also confusing to him, because why would he care about how he’s coming across to someone that doesn’t like him?

“You want anything to eat or drink?” Jax began to walk to the kitchen, “I got some takeout and beer.”

She shook her head as she followed him.

He paused his steps when she declined his offer and merely looked at her. He looked down at her hands and saw that they were clenched together. And when he looked back at her face, really looked at her, he could see the redness in her eyes. She was upset, he had gathered. Not unlike the stupor he found her in when they met at the bar. She still held the same tired look in her eyes, but there was also a brokenness that was more palpable as he looked at her right now.

He waited for her to say something, but she stayed silent.

He knew he needed to force it out of her.

“What happened, darlin’?” He asked softly.

Her face transformed into an expression he couldn’t quite read.

“Wrong question.”

Without warning, McKenzie closed the distance between them and slammed her lips into his, balling up parts of his shirt as she held onto him. Jax, stunned by the force and suddenness of their collision, took a second or two to recalibrate and then reciprocate.

He pulled back first, only in search of oxygen. When he opened his eyes, he found the smallest of smirks adorning her face as she, too, took in her keep of fresh air.

“We… we can’t do this.” He breathed, feeling like only portions of his brain were currently functioning.

“I know,” she simply said, but then slid off her jacket and threw it on the nearby breakfast table. Her lips returned to his and her hands began creeping up his frame. She grabbed the cotton of his white t-shirt and lifted it to the point where he reached his hands up and allowed it to be removed from his body. He groaned into her mouth as he felt one of her hands reach lower towards the zipper of his jeans.

“Kenzie,” he breathed out and regained her attention, “this is a really bad idea.”

“Yep.”

She nodded, which was the only indication that she had heard him since she was currently removing her own shirt and throwing it alongside her jacket on the table. Then, she turned around and began walking to his bedroom, removing her bralette along the way.

Jax found more articles of clothing- her boots, her socks, and finally her jeans- as he followed her down the hallway. His heart thumped in his chest once she rounded the corner and entered his bedroom. His mind was whirling, still trying to understand what exactly had just unfolded. He knew walking into the bedroom would only complicate things. He knew this was a bad idea, he voiced as much. So why couldn’t he stop his feet from moving? Why wouldn’t his steps slow?

He turned the corner into the bedroom and was welcomed to the sight of her lounging across his bed, waiting for him in only her underwear.

Jax began unbuckling his belt as he walked further into the room. When he looked up and they locked eyes, mirrored smirks rose. Something so amusing, in that moment, about their little secret that no one else knew. A dirty little secret that should not be taking place right now.

Once he steps out of his jeans, he grabs one of her legs and pulls her closer to him. She yelps that ends with a laugh, something that Jax can’t help but smile at and chuckle to himself. He leans his face closer to hers and looked straight into her eyes, “Yeah, this is definitely a bad idea.” But that doesn’t stop him from being the one to initiate another kiss between them, this time more hungrier and needier than the first two.

His palm grabs her breast and he indulges in appreciating the fleshy material. Under his weight, she falls onto the bed and Jax follows her, leaning over her. He feels her hand come up behind his neck, pushing him further into their kiss until they’re no longer able to continue without air. His lips begin to pepper kisses down her neck and to her breasts while his hands move on to teasing her stomach and then inching down towards her black thong.

He snaps them against her skin which elicits a whimper from her. This only further encourages him. He snakes his hand between the thin material, first pressing and brushing her thighs before moving inward. McKenzie gasped and bucked her hips immediately as he started working her, his lips still suckling her breasts and absolutely leaving marks that would later turn up.

He took the time to explore her, what made her moan, what made her whimper, what made her jump and buck.

Soon enough, she was completely bare and his mouth had joined where his fingers had just been. He was off the bed with his knees on the floor as he licked, lapped, and suckled at the most sensitive part of her body. McKenzie was lost in pleasure, unable to process anything other than his tongue. She had no sense of anything beyond the exhilaration burgeoning between her legs. If she was luxuriating in silence or singing to the high heavens, she didn’t know.

Her release hit her like a train, her hips rising to join with his mouth as closely as possible. He continued softly through her release, almost like he was soothing an untamed horse.

McKenzie breathed in deep breaths as she felt him kiss and rub all the way up her body until he laid a soft kiss on her lips. Then, he separated from her still trembling body to search the nightstand for a condom. Her hands began to explore beneath his boxers, pulling him out of the undergarment. He relished in the warm grip she had him in before removing his boxers completely and giving her hands a light push.

He looked up at her and discerned the challenge in her eyes. He grabbed at her hands once more, but this time, pressed them to the bed above her head. Their eyes never left the other’s, even when he finally did remove his hands to slide the condom on himself.

Plenty of unspoken words were exchanged between the two in those few seconds before he finally slid into her. She released a sharp whimper at the sensation and immediately returned her hands to the back of his neck. He started his strokes slowly to give her time to adjust before finding a rhythm that left her leaving marks of her own on him, mainly half-moon indentations in the back of his neck from the tenacity with which she grasped him.

***********

McKenzie glanced over to the clock that sat atop his nightstand before slightly sitting up in bed. It was nearing midnight by now and Jax was in the kitchen grabbing her a water bottle. She hadn’t had the intention of staying as long as she did, but she didn’t regret it. She got exactly what she came for and was happy to be going home with a clearer mind. The only downside is that she worried what her state of mind would be in a few hours now that her distraction had faded.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed her the bottle. Once she grabbed it, he also put his hand out, offering her her bralette that she had taken off in the hallway.

She rolled her eyes with a sheepish grin before thanking him in a soft tone. She allowed the covers to fall off of her as she put the item back on. Glancing up, she saw that he’d been watching her and still had eyes on her now. She gave another grin before asking, “You seen any more of my clothes?”

Jax helped her look around and he came back with her jacket, socks and boots. She’d found her underwear right under the bed and slipped them on after getting out of the bed.

“You heading home?” He asked as he opened one of his drawers.

“Uh, yeah, well to Sairah’s place, anyway.” She responded and then furrowed her eyebrows when she saw that he was handing her one of his shirts.

“I spilled beer on yours.” He explained while motioning to the beer in his other hand.

She nodded and put on the shirt, along with the rest of her clothes. Once she was done, she looked back at him and cleared her throat. “So, um, listen. This… can’t happen again.”

She saw an expression, she couldn’t quite read, on his face, but he nodded his assent.

“I mean, really, I shouldn’t have even come here.” She rambled on, not thinking ahead of the aftermath of her lapse in judgment.

“So why did you?”

“I just needed to take my mind off things, I guess. I don’t know. What does it matter?”

“So you were using me.” He said. She was too caught up in her own mind to register the playfulness in his tone.

“Yeah, and?,” she bit back, “It’s not any different than the women you use on a daily basis, so let’s not. Hell, I’m surprised there wasn’t a line of them waiting outside your door tonight.”

Jax wore a glare that matched her own as he listened to her bitter words. “You know, darlin’, I let you into my house, I let you fuck your frustations out, the least you could do was be a little nicer about it.”

“Why, exactly? Why the fuck does it even matter to you? Jesus, I didn’t figure you the type to get attached.”

Jax let out a humorless laugh, head pulled back and all, while taking a closer step to her. “I’m not attached to you, trust me, but I just don’t get why you chose me to entertain you. There’s plenty of men out there to pick from that don’t happen to work with your dad and ex.”

“I don’t know, Jax, alright? Fucking sue me! If I knew if it was gonna turn into you getting your precious ego bruised, I would’ve rethought things. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when we were in bed together. And I don’t even know why you’re being defensive about what I said, because it’s not like I lied,” she crossed her arms over her chest as she continued her retort, “The night we met you said I didn’t even know you, but I know exactly who you are. You sleep around without a fucking care in the world, and just as soon as it’s done to you, you want to feel some type of way about it. Well, I’ve got some advice for you, Jax. Grow. The. Fuck. Up. It’s not like this is ever gonna happen again, so just get over it.” She sliced her words at him remorselessly.

He knew she was hurt. Looking at her, she was back to how she first was when he opened the door. That deer in the headlights look even under the animosity and hostility. Whatever had brought her here had been hurt. And he was now becoming the target she lashed out at whenever her frustrations consumed her. He was all she had done since they first met, and even though he felt for her, more than he could help, he was also tired of being put into a place he never asked to be in. Too tired to stop the words pilfering out of his mouth once the room was silenced.

“You know, I know you’re miserable and bitter because your life is a goddamn mess, but did you ever think that maybe you’re the reason everything in your life is such a shitshow to begin with? Because of how you treat people?,” he was so engrossed in spewing hard-bitten words just as she had, that he missed the subtle crack of her hard exterior, “Just because your life is falling apart, doesn’t mean that everyone else has to be just as fucking bitter as you are.”

McKenzie refused to break eye contact despite the words hitting her harder than she’d ever admit to anyone. She held his gaze the whole time as he spat his harsh words, up until they were nearly in each other’s faces.

“Fuck you, Jax.”

Her voice was stiff and left no room for any sort of reply as she stalked out of his room and out of his house. Tears may have prickled during her exit, but she refused to let them fall. She was tired of crying.

Jax stood in his bedroom, still irritated but also filled with guilt as the weight of his words sank in, seconds too late. He heard the front door slam and the brief rattlings of the wall from its force. He rubbed his hand over his face, irked, now that he had realized he had just made things worse.

A/N: So… that backfired. And very quickly might I add. McKenzie’s really struggling and as we’ve seen from the little hints of Jax’s past, he also has a painful past. I’m excited to dive more into that, but of course, I won’t shy away from hearing theories, feelings, and thoughts! So please run up my notes! Like, reblog, and leave comments!

Also…. not Brandon getting mad but then ultimately outing himself in the same breath. Y’all notice that?

Thanks y’all for the love. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @drabbles-mc @ocfairygodmother @youlovetkay @est1887 @rebelwrites @hey-taylor-hey @brownsugarcoffy @kmhappybunny240 @readsalot73

[nettles-bo-bettles]

Two Plus Two Equals Five

Third Person POV: It had been three years since Marinette had moved to Gotham City to study design at Gotham Academy. As usual she went to one of her favorite coffee shops in Gotham so she could get some energy after pulling all nighters for the past month and just living off of coffee. After walking 6 blocks from her apartment she got to the coffee shop, Loca Mocha (Ty Sabs). She went inside and ordered her usual, a six shot latte with cream, whipped cream on top and salted caramel sauce drizzled across the top (idk if that would actually taste good but I don’t drink coffee so don’t mind me). She went to find a seat and was unsuccessful until she found a free table in the far back of the coffee shop, however, someone else was looking at the same table at the same time as her and they ended up bumping into each other while not paying attention and heading towards the same table.

“Sorry sorry, I’m insanely clumsy.”

“No it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” “That makes two of us, I should’ve paid more attention. I’m Marinette by the way.”

“I should’ve paid more attention too. I’m Tim, it’s nice to meet you Marinette.”

“So I guess we both just had our eyes on the table huh?” “Yeah.”

“Should we just sit together then? There’s no other empty tables or seats.”

“That’d probably be easiest.”

“I have an order for a Marinette, six shot latte, with cream, whipped cream on top and salted caramel sauce drizzled on the top,” one of the baristas yelled. “I should go get that, I’ll be right back.”

‘She seems like an interesting person, I kind of want to get to know her’ Tim thought. Marinette came back to the table and sat down, Tim already had his coffee since he had ordered before Marinette came into the shop. Marinette was about to pull out her laptop to start working when Tim stopped her. She looked at him confused,

“I- I wanted to get to know you better before the both of us have to leave,” he said nervously.

“Oh, I supposed I understand that,” she said and put her laptop away.

“So, what are your hobbies?” Tim asked her.

“Well, I love designing. It's my passion and dream to be a designer and I’ve been doing it my whole life so I guess I could count that as a hobby. I also bake a lot, my parents are bakers so I’ve been taught by the pros,” she said, the last part with a joking tone.

“Those are a lot more interesting than my hobbies, all I do with my life is work and then work some more, get some coffee and sleep once a month,” Tim said jokingly.

“I’m sure you have more hobbies than that but okay.”

They continued to learn more about each other and got more and more interested in the other every second. Customers came and went and eventually it was 1pm. The tables were full again and another customer walked in, this time, however, Marinette and Tim watched them order. Marinette just happened to recognize the customer as Lê Chiến Kim. Kim ordered his drink and went to look for a table when someone caught his eye, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Long time no see Mari-bitch.” Kim said to her, clearly trying to offend her though it didn’t work.

“Nice to see you too, Kim.” Marinette replied calmly.

“Still sending death threats to Lila?” Kim asked snottily.

“Still a sheep following around a liar with no evidence?” Marinette said smoothly.

“You still don’t believe Lila huh? You know she’s friends with the Waynes right? Plus she’s dating the youngest Wayne son and she could get 15 lawsuits put on you with a few words. All she’d have to do is tell her boyfriend that you sent her death threats and bullied her in highschool.” Kim said stupidly in front of the second youngest Wayne son.

“Hi, Kim right?” Tim said stepping in.

“Yeah? And what’s it to ya?” Kim replied in a rude tone.

“I’m Tim Drake, and I sure as hell think I’d know if my younger brother was dating a lying bitch. Damian is smart enough to avoid people like that and this ‘Lila’ person seems like a golddigger, my brother also isn’t the type to cheat on his boyfriend.” Tim said, glaring at Kim.

“What do you mean? You just said your last name is Drake, that’s not Wayne you dumbass.” Kim said, thinking he knows everything.

“The thing is Bruce Wayne, my adoptive father, has adopted all of his kids except for Damian and we all kept our last names. Damian is the only biological child of Bruce that we know of and he most definitely is not dating anyone named Lila, he’s dating Jonathan Kent. I would, however, like to know the last name of this Lila.” Tim said.

“Oh Lila’s name is Lila Rossi, I’m sure you’d love to meet her, you see she knows tons of celebrities and she even taught MDC how to design, though, MDC did steal some of Lila’s designs.” Kim said, completely oblivious to the fact that he just landed Liar Grossi- oops, I meant Lila Rossi about seventeen lawsuits.

“Thank you for the name, now if you don’t mind I’d prefer if you just leave.” Tim said.

Kim left and forgot about the coffee he ordered.

“So...what was that about?” Tim asked.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story…” Marinette responded.

“I’m willing to listen to any story coming from you no matter how long it is,” Tim said without thinking. (The amount of cheesiness in that sentence is the reason why it pained my soul to write that)

Marinette laughed, “Whatever you say.”

And so we start from the beginning of Sophomore year at Francois Dupont Highschool. (Idgaf if it’s a middle school)

“Well when I was in my freshman year of high school I had a pretty good year, I was class president, I was friends with everyone, had a crush on a guy I thought was nice, and thought that nobody would ever believe someone they just met over myself. Then, Sophomore year came around and there was an exchange student, Lila Rossi. She claimed to be best friends with one of Paris’s heroes, Ladybug, and my best friend was obsessed with Ladybug so she automatically became friends with Lila. I, however, knew that Lila wasn’t friends with Ladybug because I myself was friends with her and knew that she would never become friends with someone that easily. I confronted Lila about her Lies about Ladybug and a few other famous people but she ended up threatening me. She told me that she would take all my friends and make everyone hate me, she almost succeeded completely but I still have my friends Chloe, Nino, Kagami and Luka. She told everyone that I had bullied her and that I had sent her death threats, though, she had no proof and everyone believed her because she said she knew celebrities which meant she would always tell the truth to them, they didn’t need proof. They ended up bullying me to teach me a lesson in their words, one time I almost died, they beat me up and stabbed me in the stomach multiple times resulting in me going into a coma for months. Lila also told my biological parents these lies and sadly they believed all of them, when I tried to explain it to them they just ignored me and became distant with me, they ended up disowning me and my honorary uncle adopted me with his wife, I applied for a few colleges after I graduated and even though I was accepted to harvard something just called me to go to gotham academy instead so I did, I don’t regret it to this day, I’ve learned a lot more about design and myself than I would have learned at harvard or any other school. Plus, I found Loca Mocha and like- this place has amazing coffee, I could never say no to it.”

“Wow, you weren’t lying, that is a really long story. But it was an interesting one and one that made me want to murder whoever this Lila person is.”

They talked for a while more just talking about ways to murder Lila for just being a bitch. The one they decided on was to torture her and make her wish she were dead and then give her a very slow and painful death and then chop up her limbs, throw them into a volcano, collect her ashes from said volcano and place them in a separate galaxy. Eventually it was 7pm and they didn’t even realize the amount of time that had passed until one of the baristas asked them to leave as the coffee shop was closing.

“Um Ma’am? Sir? We’re closing up soon, I hate that I have to interrupt but it would probably be easiest if you guys left before we start closing up.” The barista said.

“Oh, sorry I guess we didn’t realize what time it is, we’ll get going now.” Marinette and Tim said at the same time.

The two collected their belongings and walked out of the coffee shop hand-in-hand. Eventually they got to a crossing point between Wayne Manor and Marinette’s apartment so they had to part ways, not before exchanging phone numbers of course. Tim told her to text him immediately once she got home so he knew that she got home safe.

Marinette got home about five minutes later and texted Tim once she unlocked her apartment door. She made herself some ramen for dinner and binge-watched Haikyuu. She was in the middle of watching Tadashi yell at Tsukishima about being more excited about winning when Tim texted her saying that he was home and asking if she wanted to meet at Loca Mocha again the next day. She, of course, said yes and told him she’d see him the next day. A few hours later, while Marinette was working on one of her projects at two in the morning, Tim texted her asking if she was awake. She texted him back once she saw it and asked him why he was awake.

Coffee Addict: I could say the same to you -_-

Workaholic: Well I have a reason to be awake, I’m working on design projects. What’s your excuse?

Coffee Addict: Insomnia. Work. Patrol. Coffee.

Coffee Addict: Ignore the patrol part.

Workaholic: You’re a coffee addicted insomniac obsessed with getting their work done and you’re a hero?

Coffee Addict: ...you just met me yesterday you shouldn’t be able to know me that well.

Workaholic: I’m good at reading people.

Coffee Addict: Damn

Workaholic: You should be asleep, go to sleep

Coffee Addict: I have patrol tonight though. Workaholic: Ask someone to cover for you because someone you met at a coffee shop who also happens to be a sleep deprived insomniac is telling you to sleep.

Coffee Addict: Fine but only if you agree to go to sleep too.

Workaholic: Okay :)

Coffee Addict: I got my sister to cover for patrol for me.

Workaholic: Now sleep then

Coffee Addict: Fineeeeeeeee

After a few minutes of back and forth telling each other to sleep they both said goodnight and went to bed.

~Time skip brought to you by who gives a shit~

Marinette woke up at 8am as usual and got ready to meet Tim. She wore her hair down and wavy, put on some light makeup, some black doc marten combat boots, light wash ripped jean shorts and a black crop top. Once she was ready she left to go to Loca Mocha. Time woke up at 7:30 am, a little later than usual. He got up and styled his hair, put on some jeans, a plain t-shirt tucked into his jeans, and white converse hightops. He went downstairs to get some breakfast from Alfred when everyone looked at him weirdly.

“Are you guys okay... “ Tim asked.

“Tim- what are you wearing? Why are you dressed up casually instead of your usual work suit? WHAT IS GOING ON?!?! WHY DON’T YOU HAVE COFFEE? WHY DO YOU LOOK AWAKE AND SANE?!?!” Jason asked, starting to think that he was drugged.

“Oh well yesterday I met this girl at Loca Mocha and I spent the entire day getting to know her and last night at two in the morning I asked if she was awake and she made me go to sleep after I asked Cass to cover for me on patrol. I’m meeting with her again today.” Tim explained in a hurry to get to the coffee shop.

“You landed a girl who can get you to sleep- how the hell did that happen?” Jason asked.

“I’m still not completely sure myself. But I’m glad I met her.” Tim replied with a smile.

Everyone else in the room just stared at Tim expectantly.

“What?”

“When do we get to meet her???”

“UM- NEVER THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!”

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!!”

“Oh yes I can and I will.” Tim said and walked out of the manor.

When Tim got to the coffee shop he waited for Marinette, at 8:15 she texted him and told him she was on her way, Tim realized he might have gotten there a little earlier than he had to. He waited for a while knowing she would probably get there around 8:30. By the time it was 8:40 he started to get worried but stayed put just in case, once it was 9:00 he couldn’t help it, he got up and started walking towards her apartment, once he got there he looked for her and asked people if they saw anyone who looked like her until he turned his head to an alleyway and was horrified at what he saw…

Hehehehehehe I’ve always wanted to do that. I swear I never knew how fun it could be. Anyways that’s it for the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it.

Page count: I’m too lazy to check.

Day Posted: 04/23/21

Word Count: 2380

[suncityblues]

Bad Luck and Sunshine

Part 1/5 - SPN - 3k words 

read on AO3

He can fit all his worldly possessions on the passenger seat of his car.

Car keys, red bic lighter, a toothbrush in a ziplock bag. Cellphone, charger, brown faux leather wallet. A maxed out credit card with the name James Ledbetter on it, and a fake ID to match the card. Fourteen American dollars, one Canadian quarter, a Blimpie’s buy-one-get-one coupon.

A pen with the name of a bank on it, a tin of salt. A paperback with a four leaf clover carefully pressed into the pages between the title and the acknowledgments, and that’s it.

Castiel taps the book in the spot where the clover is pressed. He can feel the slight bump of it.  

“They’re supposed to be good luck,” Dean had told him with a shrug when Cas asked why he was rooting around in the grass that day. Dean had handed Cas the book with the clover inside and said, “I used to search for them sometimes when I was a kid. It’s dumb but, hey, I figure we could use all the luck we can get.” Dean had smiled softly then, a bit sheepish. The tips of his ears had gone red.

Back then the world had been ending, so Cas supposed Dean was right, they could use luck.

He remembers trying to be encouraging, saying something about the placebo effect that made Dean roll his eyes and laugh at the same time. He can’t quite recall the specifics of it anymore.

A while later he had reached out to the clover with his grace and found nothing particularly special about it, but kept it and the book anyway. He reaches out again, now, with what little of his power he has left. It’s still just as lucky as any other dead plant.

He takes stock of his possessions again, focusing in particular on the fourteen American dollars and the one Canadian quarter. He checks how much gas he has left in his car and it’s not much. If he keeps going he’ll have to choose between food and gas, just to run out of it again anyway.

He needs to eat sometimes now, and drink water. He needs a shower and a bed if he can get them. Clothes, shoes, soap, toothpaste. All of it costs money, and to get money you have to trade time. Castiel has always found that a little ridiculous but it’s not like he makes the rules anymore.

He’s been pulled over in a dark parking lot in a truck stop town called Laurel for a while now thinking about what to do. Sam and Dean had set him up with the card and the fake ID before he left and Cas doesn’t want to ask them for any more help. He decides Laurel is as good a place as any other to get stuck in.

It’s 9:52 on a Tuesday.

++

A day and a half later Castiel is once again employed at a gas station. He’d tried a diner, a vegetable canning factory, a hardware store, and a rundown CVS but the gas station is the first place that got back to him. They were short staffed after someone named Ricky had walked out, and desperately needed a replacement. Kendra, the manager, had said “it’s like you were sent by an angel!” When she read through his mostly fictional work history. It had made Cas laugh.

This one is called Sunshine Gas and Go. They have to wear ugly yellow polo shirts that say “Let me know how I can help make your day sunny!” On the back. They keep the beer on the left side of the cooler bank instead of the right and the jerky next to the self-serve coffee but aside from that it’s remarkably similar to a Gas-N-Sip.

He wonders bleakly if he should have been the patron of gas stations while he had the ability.

The angel of Thursday, the angel of gas stations, that’s Cas. The guardian of the spaces you have to pass through on your way to better days, better places.

He sometimes wonders how Nora’s doing; if her kid’s okay.

++

It takes Sam and Dean five weeks to cave and check in on him. Cas has been in Laurel for the last three.

They pretend to be on their way back from a hunt, a totally routine salt and burn, and just so happen to be refueling at that particular gas station in this particular truck stop, exactly fifteen minutes after his coworker leaves Cas alone to cover the overnight shift. It’s an obvious and flimsy excuse to make sure he’s okay, but he’s known them long enough to understand that obviousness and flimsy excuses to see one another are gestures of affection in the Winchester family. He finds it somewhat exhausting to witness, and even more so to experience but he doesn’t call them out on it.  

He does, however, make pointed eye contact with Sam who waves his hands in a placating gesture behind Dean’s back and excuses himself to go stare at the overpriced air fresheners on the other side of the store. He had hoped Sam, at least, would have had the sense to text first.

On the counter next to the cash register there’s a plastic bin with a picture of a bald child in a hospital bed taped to it and some loose change inside. Dean picks the can up, looks inside it, shakes it a bit, puts it down. It’s mostly empty.

“You’d think people’d be a little more generous, what with the cancer kid at stake and all,” he says. When Cas doesn’t immediately reply Dean continues, “Or is this one of those, uh, charity scams? You know, where the evil mega corporation asks you to pretty please donate so they can use it as a tax write off?”

Castiel shrugs, he doesn’t know what the Sunshine Gas and Go does with the money. Says: “I’m not sure, Dean.”

He pretends not to see Dean stick some gum from the display under the counter into his coat pocket. He’s watched Dean do this before to other casheers, leaning close to flirt and making off with what he can. Cas supposes old habits die hard. The gum is sugar free cinnamon.

Dean sees him pretending not to see. He smiles big and bright, his nose does a little crinkle that Cas always liked. The term “shit eating grin” comes to mind, Cas must have heard it somewhere, probably about Dean that time too. He rolls his eyes and says, “How was your hunt? Were you or Sam hurt at all?” He can’t do much besides heal minor cuts and bruises these days, but for the Winchesters he’d still offer what he can.

Dean waves him off, “Fine, fine, got shoved around a bit but it’s nothing a cold compress and a good night’s sleep can’t fix.”

“Speaking of,” Dean segues in a breezyl tone Castiel knows is dangerous territory, “Where are you sleeping these days? You gotta sleep now right?”

The ghost of Rexford sits heavy between them, though it’s been years since then. Cas realizes being back at a gas station might have caught Dean off guard, or felt like some kind of dig at him. He doesn’t know how to explain that it’s just bad luck, and he’s not sure Dean would believe him if he did.

This time around he’s not squatting in the back room with the cleaning chemicals but he is sleeping in his car, just until he has enough money for a place to stay or decides to hit the road again. He knows that’s not anything Dean wants to hear.

“Yes, Dean, I need to sleep” he answers, then pauses. He considers lying but it never works out when he does, and this isn’t life or death; just embarrassing.

Besides, Sam and Dean are observant and thorough even during a glorified social visit, so Cas figures they’d put two and two together as soon as they walked in the door. There’s no way they hadn’t clocked his too-big thrift store jeans under the uniform shirt, or the circles under his eyes. The way his beard is a little patchy from shaving in the bathroom mirror in the truck stop visitor center. It’s likely they’d found his car in it’s discreet parking space at the edge of the lot before coming into the Sunshine Gas and Go.

Cas tries tactful honesty: “I’m saving up.”

And it’s true, he is, though he’s not sure what he’s saving up for. But every Friday he gets a paycheck and brings it to the check cashing place in town. After the fee, and groceries, and little necessities he carefully stores what little he has left in the locked glove compartment of his car, under the book with the clover in it.

Dean’s lips press flat together. He stops leaning over the counter and stands at his full height. He makes an aborted head shaking gesture. He speaks like there’s an awful taste in his mouth.

“So,” he says, slightly too loudly to pay it off as cool. Out of the corner of his eye Castiel sees Sam’s head wip towards them, no longer pretending he’s not eavesdropping.

“So, ah—“ Dean repeats, “you’re gonna, what? Drift around? Lay low in some podunk shit hole for the rest of your life?“ he stops, puts his hands on the counter to steady himself, or to keep from reaching over and grabbing him, Cas isn’t sure. A beat.

“You know what?” Dean says, “Nevermind.”

Cas deflates. He knows Dean disagrees with him leaving so soon after becoming human again, and feels guilty about so many things it’s hard for Cas to keep track of them all, but he knows he couldn’t stay either. Just like lying to the Winchesters, it never works out in the end. With almost no power, he’s no help to anyone, not Sam and Dean, not heaven, not even himself. It hurts to think about but maybe that’s just part of being human.

“Dean—“ he starts to say but he’s cut off.

“Don’t worry about it, man” Dean says, he taps the counter twice with his knuckles, “nice place you got here. I’m glad you’re doing alright.”

Dean swallows and abruptly turns to leave, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Cas watches him go until Sam comes to the counter with two bottles of water, a coffee, and an energy bar.

He puts a twenty down, says apologetically, “For this stuff and whatever Dean stole on his way out.”

“Gum,” Cas supplies, and slides the twenty back towards Sam. “Don’t worry about it,” he says.

The cameras don’t work inside the store, and according to Joanna, the only reason they’re still up at all is to deter would-be armed robbers. Castiel watches less deserving people steal from them all the time, so it doesn’t seem worth it to take Sam’s money.

Sam shakes his head and gives him a flat smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes his things but leaves the twenty. Says, “See you around, Cas.” He pauses for a moment, and seems to debate something with himself. Then: “Check in sometimes if you can, okay? You know how Dean can be when he gets worried.”

Castiel knows. He waves to Sam as he walks off into the dark.  

Cas checks the gum display, then manually rings up the items Sam bought. He puts the change into the plastic jar with the kid in the hospital bed on it.

++

A few days later a woman comes in with a ghost behind her. Cas checks the time to keep from gaping. 11:27 AM.

The ghost is a man, perhaps in his mid forties. Too young to be dead, but Cas supposes most people feel that way when they die, no matter how old. When the woman comes to the counter and gives him thirty dollars to put on pump six he sees a wedding ring on a chain around her neck. He puts two and two together.

“That’s a lovely necklace” he says, he looks directly at the ghost when he says it. They make eye contact. The ghost does a sharp inhale for a moment and the lights flicker. The ghost disappears.

Cas frowns, “Sorry about that. It happens all the time,” he lies. He wonders if he could purify the ghost with what powers he has left, that way she wouldn’t have to burn her wedding ring.

The woman seems caught off guard, then smiles politely.

“No worries, it happens all the time at my house too. Must be a faulty power grid in this town or something, my kids swear it’s a ghost or something,” she says.

There’s an apprehensive edge to her voice then, hastily: “have a good one.”

“You too,” Cas says. He thinks about following her out, trying to explain. He thinks about texting Sam and Dean.

The slushie machine makes a mechanical crunching sound and suddenly there’s red goop all over the ground.

Joanna starts yelling and runs for the mop. He goes to unplug the machine and gets sticky pink syrup all over his last clean pair of pants. The ghost slips his mind.

++

Two days later Dean shows up by himself. It’s 6:43 in the morning on a Tuesday.

Cas has been finished with work for fifteen minutes already but there’s a rush at the end of his shift so he says on to help Javier and Kendra out. It’s mostly people stopping for gas on their way to work, or truckers picking up breakfast before heading back on the road. He doesn’t mind sticking around in the mornings, everyone’s usually too tired to be angry and it’s a nice break from the drunks and the sad eyed kids he usually meets on overnights. The extra money doesn’t hurt, either.

Cas doesn’t notice Dean until he’s placing two coffees on the counter in front of them.

His first words are a surprised, “Oh, hello Dean. Where’s Sam?” Which makes Dean huff, and shift from one foot to the other.

“Not here,” he says, then points at the coffee closest to Cas, “That one’s for you. Milk, no sugar still, right?” Cas nods. He knows this is Dean Speak for an apology. He can feel Javier and Kendra look over at them from behind the other register and the cigarette display, respectively.

Dean smiles, all charm but Cas can tell his face looks a little more drawn than usual, like he’d been driving for too long without a break, “You get off work soon?”

Kendra answers for him, “Yes, he does.” She has a maternal look on her face when Cas turns to her. Javier rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“Shoo,” she says, with a smile. She points at the slogan on his uniform shirt, “Go have a sunny day, James.”

Dean nods, “Yeah, James. Have a sunny day.” There’s that smile again.

Cas closes out his register and gets his coat from the back room. Dean’s waiting for him outside, drinking his coffee and leaning against the Impala. The lighting is the soft grey-blue of the morning, and it feels nice compared to the white fluorescents of the store.

Before Cas can say anything Dean scrubs at the back of his neck, then says, “This coffee tastes like piss. Let’s get breakfast.”

++

There’re a few diners in town but Cas has never been to any of them. Dean picks one on a whim, because the sign has a 1950’s pinup girl in a skimpy waitress uniform.

It’s warm inside and smells nice, like syrup and strong coffee. Dean orders something called The Lumberjack Platter and when Cas tells the waitress, “Just coffee, thanks” Dean overrides it and orders him scrambled eggs with a side of sausage and toast.

“My treat,” Dean says. Cas shakes his head but doesn’t fight him on it.

Dean avoids talking about anything personal. Instead they mostly chat about the case Sam and Dean are currently working on. Apparently they’ve hit a wall with the research and Sam’s been holed up at the bunker for days pouring over blueprints and hacked security footage. There’s a cursed object in a locked bank vault in Little Rock that’s making people have violent outbursts. The questions are: why did it start acting up now, which lock box it’s in, and how to get to it.

Cas wishes he could still fly, then at least he’d be able to solve two of their problems. He runs the idea of trying to find a spell to make the object useless by Dean and Dean types it into his phone to send to Sam. A moment later it lights up with a call but Dean mutes it and sticks the phone back in his pocket.

Dean changes subjects and tells him about the latest Dr. Sexy storyline, about a vampire nest he took out a few years back, about running into Garth in Topeka. Cas talks about the gas station a bit but mostly just listens. He always likes listening to Dean talk.

++

When they leave the diner and get back into the Impala, Cas realizes this is the first time he’s enjoyed himself in a long while. He smiles over at Dean, expecting to be asked where he’d like to be dropped off. He’s thinking about the park by the river on the far side of town, it’s a long walk back to the truck stop but he likes to watch the  trees shift in the wind and the fresh air there is a nice change from diesel fumes. Instead Dean says, “You still don’t got a place to stay right?”

Cas nods cautiously. He puts his hand on Dean’s upper arm and, not willing to let the day go south, says sternly, “I assure you Dean, while I’m not strictly an angel anymore I still don’t need nearly as much rest as you or Sam do…”

Dean nods at the steering wheel, his jaw moving. Cas can tell he’s also trying to not turn this into a fight.

Dean shifts towards him, Cas keeps his hand firmly on Dean’s arm. The energy in the car changes and suddenly Cas realizes where this is going. Dean puts one hand on his waist and the other comes to rest on Cas’ neck behind his ear. Cas breathes in sharply.

“Dean,” he says, then he broaches the subject he’d been painstakingly avoiding all morning: “Why did you come here today?”

Dean blushes and goes still for a moment, he swallows but doesn’t say anything. After a moment tugs him in gently and Cas takes pity on him. Dean tastes like maple syrup.

It’d been a while since they’d done this, but they fall back into it easily. After a few moments of kissing Dean pulls back. Their foreheads and noses are still touching and they’re breathing hard.

“What I was trying to say was, uh,” his ears get red at the tips, “that I got a room at that Budget Motel by the gas station.”

All Cas can think of to reply is, “Oh, I’d like to see it.”

It makes Dean laugh and wiggle his eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah wanna come up and see my art collection?” He says. Cas doesn’t know what he’s talking about but he likes that Dean keeps his hand on his thigh while they drive.

++

By the time Cas wakes up for his next shift Dean is gone. There’s a text on his phone that says Sam finally had his breakthrough based on something Cas had said. Then a second one that tells Cas the room is paid through till the end of the week. He can stay in it or not, doesn’t matter to Dean one way or the other. A third one that just says: Thanks.

Cas lays in bed for a moment enjoying the soft sheets and suddenly remembers the ghost.

++++++++++

Thanks for reading :)

[rediscoveringmichelle]

An Apple a day keeps the cravings away

January 2021, back in London after spending Christmas at home in Ireland with my family. This time had been a very different experience to the last. Freer, both mentally and physically. The last time I had been home was at the beginning of the global pandemic, restricted to the 2km radius of my home in Clontarf, North Dublin. However, on this occasion not only had restrictions been lifted by the Taoiseach for the Christmas period, I had lifted my own restrictions too. The beginning of the pandemic was the turning point of my recovery and now, 9 months later, I was no longer limiting myself to 3 healthy meals per day, with no snacks and a strict schedule of two 10km runs per week and a minimum 2 and half hours of walking per day. I felt happier and healthier than I had been in years, able to relax and enjoy late night glasses of wine and mince pies with my parents, meals out with friends and the odd day of rest and relaxation with nothing but a few hours of TV to pass the day. It didn’t matter how much weight I had put on; I had gained my life and laugh back, and I would be forever grateful for the lesson I had learnt thanks to this awful pandemic. That making myself thinner and fitter, didn’t make me any happier. And that being physically healthy is nothing if you destroy your mental and social health too.

January 2018 was really where it all began. Recently single and having spent a lot of my newfound freedom on nights out, eating takeaways and drinking large volumes of alcohol, I had understandably put on a bit of weight. The guy I had been seeing, suddenly stopped texting me and I felt rejected. My parents were back to living their lives after their run-ins with poor health. Dad back to smothering his toast in thick layers of butter and Mum loving her newfound ‘real-Mum’ life of Pilates and coffee catch ups since selling her practice for good. I was no longer needed. Mum didn’t need me to drive her to chemo or cook my Dad his no red meat, no oil, no salt dinners. I felt anxious as they went back to living their lives. No longer able to control them, especially my dad. I couldn’t force him into living a by-the-book healthy lifestyle. But I figured what I could control was myself. I could be the healthiest person I could possibly be. And with the added benefit of making that guy wish he’d never let me go. My perfectionist self would ensure that I would be the perfect picture of health. No cheating, no dieting, just a new lifestyle. A new me. One I could love.

I scoured the internet for all the advice on changing your lifestyle, getting fit and losing weight. Running apparently boosted your metabolism and was an efficient way to burn calories and fat. So, I started by running 5km, three times a week. Weights would help then to reduce my body fat and tone up so I coupled the running with strength training in the gym, also three times a week. I pounded out Kelsey Wells workout routines, while listening to ‘This is me’ from The Greatest Showman, a song about not being afraid to show the world exactly who you are, as I was ironically punishing my body into a shape that was not naturally me. I strictly followed Dad’s cardiologist’s advice and cooked everything from scratch, substituting beef mince for turkey mince and not using oil, butter or salt in my cooking. I cut out all snacks and limited myself to three meals per day. Social Media became my home ground for weight loss advice. ‘You’re not hungry, you’re thirsty. Drink some water.’ ‘No pain, no gain.’ ‘Ignore your cravings and they will eventually go away.’ ‘Craving sugar? Have an apple instead’. Each day would end with eating an apple to stave off the cravings and to quieten the rumbles in my stomach.

I started weighing my food, tracking everything from litres of water drunk and then steps walked and active minutes of exercise. I upped my runs gradually to 10km, twice a week because social media told me that after running for 35 minutes, you no longer just burn calories, but also fat. And yes, I do realise that anyone who has a degree in anything science related would quickly realise these were all completely made up and not based on fact, but I guess I wanted to believe them. I would believe anything that forced me to push (or punish) myself more. I stopped going out for drinks or dinner with friends. Too many calories and too worried that I wouldn’t be able to get up and run in the morning, unable to flex from the specific days I went running, for fear I would never run again. When I moved to London, I spent my weekends walking 40 thousand steps so that I could then earn a slice of banana bread from Deliciously Ella’s Vegan & Gluten Free Deli. I felt a rush of joy wash over me each time I saw the number on the scales or the minutes of my 10km runs decline, but like a drug, the high didn’t last long. I was addicted. I had no trust in myself. ‘You’re so controlled’, they complimented me. But deep down, I felt like there was a lazy, sugar and fat loving girl inside me. An imposter in a gradually reducing body. Fearing that just one biscuit and I would be back as that unhappy and overweight rejected girl.

I really believed that being thinner and looking like those girls I idolised on Instagram would make me happier. They were all smiling, surely that meant they were happy? As the compliments turned to concern, I felt that surely people were just jealous of how much weight I had managed to lose. Weight loss was something to be proud of, wasn’t it? The truth of it all didn’t hit me until the pandemic. As I sat up in my bed struggling to breathe on the night of the Taoiseach’s first lockdown announcement, I started to wonder what I was really fearing. During a time when people were dying, all I could fear was not being able to exercise enough and being locked up in a house full of food. I feared putting on weight and relinquishing control. I felt trapped with nothing to look forward to. Holidays cancelled and my boyfriend of two months at home with his family 167km away in Belfast. That was my rock bottom.

In an effort to cheer myself up I started to make a list of all the things I wanted to do post lockdown. Have date nights in with my boyfriend, making pizzas, ordering takeaways and eating breakfast in bed. Then the excitement of getting to do these things started to dwindle as the anxiety crept in, as I tried to count up how much exercise I would need to do in order to earn those nights. A day in bed with no exercise? Nope, that’s a no go. And that’s when it hit me. I had made myself thin, with the thought that then I would be lovable and that then I could enjoy my life. But I was thinner, thinner than I’d been since I was a preteen and I still wouldn’t let myself go enough to do the things I deeply wanted to do. To let myself enjoy life. How freeing it would be to just, let go!

My love for learning kicked in and I made the decision to start reading up and educating myself. I came across a book my mum had not so subtly left lying around the house. ‘Just Eat it – How Intuitive eating can help you get your shit together around food’ by Laura Thomas. I didn’t believe I had an eating disorder until I started reading her book. As she listed off the disorders, she then came to Orthorexia – defined as an unhealthy obsession with healthy eating or over exercising. ‘When was the last time you even asked yourself what you’d like instead of what you ‘can’ or ‘should’ eat?’ she queried. The sad reality was that I couldn’t remember. ‘We trust our phones more than we trust our bodies’. Well that was certainly true for me. She used science, showing that weight was in fact not a determinant of health but that by exercising, eating healthy and not smoking we could be healthy, regardless of our size. That eating a donut didn’t in fact negate the nutrients of the carrot we ate earlier. And that white flour was actually infused with calcium and that those carbs are what give us energy to move and enjoy life. My eyes gradually opened to all the lies diet culture had taught me and I felt empowered.

I moved on to more books and podcasts and started culling my social media feed of anyone that didn’t make me feel good. I started following intuitive eating dietitians and anti-diet advocates. Following people of all shapes and sizes and realising how biased our society is towards people in smaller bodies. Not just the size of airplane seats but assuming that all health issues experienced by fat people can be solved by weight loss. I learnt that the night sweats I had been experiencing, the pretty much non-existent sex drive and the inability to maintain body heat for any length of time were in fact all side effects of the restricted eating and over-exercising. Half the time I didn’t even look as thin as I had become because I was wearing so many layers of clothes in order to keep warm. Walking around the house with a hot water bottle strapped to my waist and wearing a fur coat indoors while out for dinner with friends. Only now can I laugh at the image of it. I started to make a list of all the things I would gain through gaining weight and glancing back over it now, I have gained all of these and more. My headspace, my laughter, my body heat and a fantastic relationship that I thankfully didn’t destroy because of my restrictive, anxious mind-set.

My recovery hasn’t been easy. The steps toward eating intuitively start with banishing your food rules and allowing yourself to eat what you want. A process that takes time before you can start tuning into your hunger and fullness cues again and introducing gentle nutrition. It involved allowing myself to devour entire tubs of Oatly chocolate fudge ice-cream, multiple evenings per week. Making my way through all the delicious Deliveroo takeaway options London had to offer – Honest Burgers red meat beef burgers with rosemary salted fries, Franco Manca pizzas, with all the toppings, and Kin & Deum Thai curries, with full fat coconut milk. Gradually I started being able to listen to my body and trust it. Whether it hungered for a salmon stir-fry or was seeking out a slice of chocolate cake. The interesting thing being, that months later it now craves nutritious food the majority of the time. And that by allowing it to have higher sugar or fat containing foods whenever it wants, I no longer feel out of control around them. I no longer find myself devouring three large sized bags of crisps in one sitting, overtaken by the fear that I will never let myself eat them again.

I have days where I find myself critiquing my larger thighs in the mirror but instead of allowing the thoughts consume me, I allow them float by with curiosity and continue about my day knowing that the way I look doesn’t define me and that the greatest things about me have nothing to do with my body shape or size. I am a thoughtful friend, who prides herself at remembering important moments in friends’ lives. A courageous girl who isn’t afraid to try new things, whether that be travelling solo across Vietnam or signing up to a surf and yoga retreat in Cornwall. A creative person who loves to draw and a lifelong learner that is open to new ideas and wants to challenge her way of thinking. My body will change a lot over the next 50 plus years of my life, but the great thing is that thanks to freeing myself from the disease, I get to look forward to the possibility of being alive for that long and to enjoying every waking moment, no longer postponing life for when I look or am a certain way.

© Michelle McCarthy January 2021

[dprwolfgang]

Bottle You Up // Park Jinyoung

Therapist! Jinyoung x Patient! Reader

Fluff, Mild angst, poorly written smut

Request from @luckykpopanimespy​. Thank you for the request and being so patient with me. I promised myself I’d have this done before my bday tomorrow and before the weekend ended so her it is. This is my first ever published piece for Jinyoung so I hope you enjoy and I hope I was able to create what you wanted.

Maybe falling for Jinyoung wasn't the best idea, him being your therapist and all. After years of constantly feeling like there was something wrong with her, it was nice to have someone other than Jackson understand her personality. Most (especially her family) would say that you’re socially inept, emotionally detached but really she was just bad with people which might be the same thing but in order to shut her mother up she’d gone to see a therapist like she recommended. He had been her therapist for the past year thanks to their mutual friendship with one Jackson Wang.  

"You know I was starting to think you didn't need my services anymore." Jinyoung teases as he flips another piece of meat on the grill. Therapy sessions with Jinyoung were a bit different i.e. instead of sitting in a room and listening to her talk about her issues, every session consisted of different activities that included the most mundane of things like going to the movies or grocery shopping which were all supposed to help with her lack of social skills as he had put it. All it's done however, is shown her just how much boyfriend material Jinyoung is and she has not one clue as to why he was single. Tonight the session consisted of Korean BBQ and soju.

"Soooo, are you gonna tell me what happened or…?"

"He said I was emotionally detached and that I needed to realize that he was more than just a piece of ass, that he has feelings too." Head propped up on my hand I look at him " the dick wasn't even that good and he could never find the damn clit. You'd think with all the porn he watches he would know how to locate it but nada." the young woman shrugs as if she was simply reading off the menu while Jinyoung visibly chokes on the shot of soju he'd taken at that moment.

"I don't know, maybe there really is something wrong with me." Taking the rest of  soju to head, she takes a piece of meat and pops it into her mouth."

"____, there's nothing wrong with you, we've been at this for so long and if he couldn't tell that you're an amazing woman then he didn't deserve you. You aren't bad with people ____, you're just very selective of who and what you give your time and energy too and I don't see anything wrong with that. You aren't meant to be happy all the time, you.."

"Whoa, slow down before I fall more in love with you than I already am…hey you wanna be my boyfriend?" If Jinyoung is shocked by the words that come out your mouth then he hides it very well.

She’s not drunk if that's what you're thinking. Tipsy, most definitely but not drunk…or maybe she is?

"Jackson wasn't lying when he said alcohol makes you loose-lipped huh?"

"I'm not drunk!"

"Sure you aren't sweet cheeks, now listen to me even though I'm sure we'll be having this conversation again in the near future. You sit up straight and look directly at him.

"You aren't meant to be the same person you were a week, a month or a year ago. We as humans, we're creatures of habit but we're also creatures of change and you've changed so much since our first session where you just sat a looked at me and…"

"at least somebody thinks so,"

"Yah! Stop cutting me off you little brat," he says pinching her cheeks and now is definitely not the time to be turned on but god dammit he had you whipped and he didn’t even know it.

"Then stop saying shit to increase the massive hard-on I already have for you." You smile at him.

"And that's my cue to get you home." he shakes his head jokingly before calling over the waiter and taking the rest of the food to go.

"Why do you keep ignoring my confessions Jinyoung? At least tell me if you don't feel the same way. I mean it'll suck but I've already accepted my fate with Hanahaki."

"Aish, calm down drama queen,we'll finish talking once we get out of here so stop putting words in my mouth."

“Fucking hell, why’d I leave the damn blinds open?” You mumble to yourself rolling out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom.

It’s not until you’re settled on the toilet fully immersed in relieving your bladder that the smell of coffee and bacon hits your nose.

Who the fuck did I bring home last night?  

You grab the baseball bat beside your desk once back in the bedroom and tiptoe out of it following the scent of French vanilla.  

Firm grip on the handle you poke the shirtless culprit causing the male to jump and drop whatever he was holding in the sink. Once he turns around you’re lowering the bat and glaring at him.

“What the fuck are doing in my apartment so early and shirtless?” Bat rested on the counter and arms folded across your chest.

“It’s noon and San said you’d need the grease and coffee at whatever time you decided to wake up. As for why I’m shirtless…well, a certain someone who claimed she wasn’t that drunk threw up  on me when she tried to convince me to kiss her.” Jinyoung smiles at the pout on your face taking a step forward for every one you took backward.

“I really don’t need to know about your sex life Jin. It’s already bad enough that I gotta deal with the feelings I have for you that I don’t need added salt to my wounds.” He chuckles as he traps you between his shirtless body and the counter.

“How much of last night do you remember pretty girl?” You shrug and reiterate what you remember from the moment you took those migraine pills from San to the moment you woke up. Jinyoung scolds you for mixing alcohol with medication but finally understood why you got so drunk that quickly. Jackson had mentioned in passing that you could hold your liquor more than anyone he knew and even if you did get drunk you never seemed to wake up with a hangover just a craving for coffee and grease. Needless to say he was quite surprised when you were hammered after just four shot of soju and three beers.

He helps fill in the gaps of your hazy memories and by the end your face is buried in your hands.

“Jesus Christ what the everloving fuck is wrong with me?”

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I mean it’s not everyday the woman that I like throws up on me but it makes for a great story later on.” He laughs and so do you because his laugh is just that infectious but you stop when his words sink in.

“Y-you like me?”

“Yeah…I was going to tell you last night but you got wasted and kept cutting me off and then when I got you home, well you already know how that ended up.” His hands find purchase on your waist pulling you closer to him. One hand leaves your waist and travels up the expanse of your body to cup your face. “If the offer still stands, I would love to be your boyfriend.”

Jinyoung’s eyes had been one of his many tells and looking directly at him you could see that he was absolutely serious about what he’d just said and before you could talk yourself out of it you’re kissing him.

It takes a moment for him to reciprocate but once he does, it’s more than anything you’ve ever conjured up in your imagination. His lips are like marshmallows, soft, sweet and pliant against your own. You can taste the coffee and think that you’d never be able to have French vanilla like a normal person anymore. You can’t help the moan that tears from your throat when the hand that once lay on your waist rubs over then grabs an ass cheek, pulling you flush against his body.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers against the side of your neck as he continues peppering the skin with kisses.

“In every language but what about your job?” You question. As much as you wanted him, you knew this could affect his job.

“Yesterday was officially our last session, I meant it when I started I don’t think you need me anymore but if you want to keep your sessions going Jaebum’s already agreed to take over.” He smiles and you’re kissing him again.  

He grabs  both of your thighs and lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist. He makes the small trek to your bedroom, closing the door with his feet then drops you onto your bed.

“God this better not be a damn dream.” You mumble with no intention of him hearing but he does and he hovers over you kissing you lips lightly.

“It’s not.”  

Jinyoung’s hands picks up where he left off and continues its adventure in exploring your body. Pushing the material of your tshirt up and over your head, his mouth latches on to your nipple as his fingers twist and pull at the other.

“Jin please.” His name leaves your mouth in a breathless sigh. He doesn’t tease or question, he kisses his way down your body until he’s settled between your thighs.  

Your underwear slowly comes off as he whispers about how wet you are, a tentative lick to your dripping core as he wraps his lips around your swollen bud and sucks hard. Fingers teased your wet folds before one slides in. You moan lightly, head thrown back onto your pillow, back arched when Jinyoung slips another finger past your entrance.

You never knew you could enjoy cunnilingus as much as you were in that moment and it was all thanks to him. You push up on your elbows and look down at the sight of Jinyoung’s face buried in your cunt and can’t help the way you clench against his fingers.He ate you out like his life depended on it, knowing exactly when to curl his fingers or suck just a little harder. You were absolutely sure that if San was at home he’d be knocking on your door telling you to keep it down and for once you’ve never been more thankful for his early shifts on a Saturday.  

The tightening of your walls against his fingers alerts him to your impending orgasm and he doubles his efforts to get you there faster. One particularly harsh suck has you coming undone on his tongue and dripping down his fingers.He presses soft kisses up your body as you catch your breath. He wasn’t one to brag but seeing the blissed out expression on your face had him mentally tooting his own horn.

“You good pretty girl?” A kiss to your cheek before dipping into your neck and continuing his assault on your skin.

“You just gave me the best orgasm of my life and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” You laugh lightly when you feel him smile against your skin.

“That was only the beginning baby.” He rises and captures your lips with his. One hand in his hair as the other travels the expanse of his chest down to the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing slipping under. He groans into your mouth when your hands wraps around his length and squeezes.

Slow, languid strokes up and down his has him growing harder than he already was. He lets you have your fun as he rids himself of his pants and boxers, laying you back against your pillows he takes your hands in his, fingers interwoven and holds them down besides your head.

He runs his length through your glistening folds coating himself in your arousal, his tip catches on your entrance and he’s pushing in until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. Neither of you break eye contact and as much as he wants to fuck into you when your legs tighten around his waist effectively pushing him deeper inside you, he knows he’ll have many more opportunities to do so.

“Please,”

You don’t have to tell him what you need. Jinyoung is acutely aware of when you want him to go faster and harder or slower and deeper. Knows just when to rub figure eights on your neglected clit to have your back arching into his chest and your nails raking down his back as you reach your high.

He slows his pace letting your come down, leaving kisses all over your face. He waits until your breathing has become steady before picking up his pace and chasing his end. Your hand finds his cheek as you both stare at each other.

“Let go baby, cum for me.” You whisper against his lips. Three deep thrusts and he’s pulling out and coming on your navel with a groan. He places a kiss to your lips before he disappears into your bathroom. You can’t help the blissed out smile on your face as your mind replays the last hour. You jump lightly when you feel the warm cloth against your skin and turn to see Jinyoung dressed in his boxers. He helps you pull your tshirt back over your head and tosses the dirty cloth in the hamper then climbs back into your bed pulling you against him.

Head against his chest and his hand in your hair, you sigh in contentment.

“Ever since I realized how I felt about you, I always found myself wanting you around me even when I didn’t have you booked for a session. I found myself wanting to hold you and never let you leave…”

“Every time you smiled at me I felt like I could just keep that image and save it for a rainy day and now I have you here,” you continue when he pauses.

“What do you plan to do with me?” You can hear the teasing tone in his voice and you smile. You look up at him and smile pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Bottle you up.”  

[a-marlene-s]

Futuristic Miraculous: Part 1

Couple: TerRI, Terry Mcginnis x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug/Batman Beyond

Genre: Salt, hurt/comfort, friendship, and possibly more.

Summary: With her childhood friends close by, Marinette knew she could take on the world, even when dealing with a certain lair. It all first started with taking a job for being Jagged Stone’s personal designer and that resulted with her being in Neo-Gotham. All the while Terry is facing the fact he is the new Batman and dealing with all the past Robins wondering what Bruce was thinking in taking in a new kid into the cruel world that is of Superheroes.

Terry McGinnis x Marinette Dupain-Cheng: Futuristic            

Tag List: @battysorciere​

TerRi Sever: https://discord.gg/2qCNdjs

Age List: 

Bruce: 60

Dick: 43

Barbara: 42

Jason 39

Tim: 37

Damian: 34

Terry: 16

Marinette: 16

Penny R.: 32

Marinette refused to cry or look away as her classmates waiting to be picked up to go to the local airport. She could see many of them sneering, glaring or just giving her looks of pity. Then there was Lila… just giving a look that reminded Marinette of a cat that caught the canary.

At her right, Nino held back a snarl that threatened to escape his lips at the sight of Liar mocking his friend. At Marinette’s left, Kim is trying his hardest to hold back his own anger at what was happening. It’s completely unfair how things had turned out for Marinette. She had done everything she could for this trip to happen Neo-Gotham and for it to blow up in her face has become the last straw for her.

Marinette tried so hard to take the high road that the only thing she got out of it is broken friendships. Along with just seeing how depressing the world could be. It has been well over a year since Lila came to Paris and destroyed her life to the best of her abilities. Unfortunately for the Liar, Marinette has two best friends that managed to see through the lies and are now stand by her side through it all. Even going as far too foregoing Neo-Gotham for her.

With everyone’s back turn, Lila took the chance to send a menacing smirk to Marinette before boarding the bus with the rest of the class. Marinette’s eyes narrowed as everyone ignored them as the bus drove off, leaving them in its dust. This hurts.

Not as much as seeing the hurt in their faces when Lila’s reign over them comes tumbling down.

“Kim, Marinette, Nino, I have your work packets for the year.”  Ms. Mendeleiev approached the three students with three large packets of work. “I stapled my contact information in each packet. I will have the rest of your work on my website by the end of the month. The packets should be more than enough until then.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mendeleiev for your help.” Marinette thanked her instructor as she and her friends took their respective packets.

“If it means undermining, Miss Bustier, they by all means.” Ms. Mendeleiev snorted, she looked at her students, seeing the determination in their eyes. “If I was your homeroom instructor… things would have never gotten this far, I hope the three of you know this.”

“We know, Ms. Mendeleiev.” Marinette smiled sadly before she started to smirk. “I suppose we should be heading to the airport too if we want to catch our flight.”

“Penny said that a limo will be picking us up as soon as we give her a call.” Nino mentioned.

“Yeah, let’s call her! I want to see the looks on their faces when they see us flying first class!!!” Kim laughed.

Ms. Mendeleiev could only shake her head before she turned on her heal to leave. “Keep up with your work and keep me posted on your work.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mendeleiev.”  

-.-

Tim drank what feels like his hundredth cup of coffee in the past hour, it might as well be his hundredth cup of coffee at this point. He was supposed to be in Paris for just a simple and much needed vacation. But of course work has to come first before anything. This resulted with him waiting in the airport with a bunch of high school students that are to go back to Neo-Gotham with him as part of an exchange program set up by his associates and his old Alma mater.

Now… this wouldn’t be an issue. The actual issue being the fact that the one that did most of the work to make this program possible isn’t even here. Tim doesn’t buy that whole, ‘disciplinary actions’ and all that other crap the teacher tries to shove down his throat.  He ignored the rest of it and had emailed the associate that had put this together to send him the report from the missing student.

What Tim read made him wonder what the hell is going on in Paris. It makes it appear that they made the poor girl do all the dirty work and pushed her out of her own project at the last minute. As much he wants to forgo this trip, he has to keep up appearances as a CEO. Plus, who knows… maybe the kid will finally get a break from them.

Win-Win? No… it’s a lost for the girl that did everything she could to get her class to go on this trip. For nothing on her end.

“I happen to know Dick Grayson’s daughter, Mar’i Grayson! We are the closes of friends you know~”

Tim’s neck nearly snapped when he turned his attention to one of the French students. Once look over, and he could tell right off the bat she’s lying. First off… he knows all of Mar’i’s friends, safety precautions and to weed of anyone that wants to use her for connections. Second… this brat never spends a single day in the Manor and knew his own kids!!!! Tim guesses that the fact no one recognize him and assumed he’s some random employee that was supposed to be their guide or something.

Otherwise, the liar wouldn’t be spinning her tales otherwise.

“Why the hell are you here!!!”

Tim turned around to see three teens talking animated to a pink haired adult that is showing them a pamphlet. Considering they were all in the waiting terminal to catch the next plane, the four were blissfully unaware of their surroundings. That was until Miss Bustier approached the group but the woman that was holding the pamphlet pushed the teens behind her. Whatever was said by both adults, clearly made the teacher go on edge and the pink haired woman to smirk smugly at her.

With a heavy sigh, Tim drowned down his hundredth cup of coffee and headed towards what he suspects to be trouble.

“Marinette, Nino and Kim are under my supervision.” Penny stated, her expression neutral to hide her contempt. “I have their parents’ permission, the school is notified and that is all you need to know.”

Bustier’s mouth went agape at the woman’s words, even more so at the sight of her student’s smirks that were directed her way. Those three were supposed to be back at the school, not here in the airport. Not being here, waiting for the same plane as they are. She shook her head and tried to say something when it was announced that their flight is about ready to board, informing everyone to get to their spots.

“We must get going.” Penny said, pushing past Bustier and the rest of the students that decided to surround them. “We to get in line.”

Kim and Nino took hold of Marinette and pushed through the crowd as it appeared their fellow classmates were not planning on letting them through. The last thing they needed is more fuel to the fire by having Marinette being singled out for something she didn’t do. Again. Marinette for her own part, ignored the glares and everyone’s attempt to get her attention. As of now, they are not worth her time.

Marinette did however stick out her tongue out at Lila when she caught the other teen glaring at her. Might as well have some fun for now.

Tim, who had been watching, watched as the Marinette Dupain-Cheng be pulled away by her friends by her… friends? Classmates? Whatever she considers them, considering how majority of them were not comforting the now crying Liar. The Liar kept crying on and on how Marinette supposedly had stepped on her foot on purpose.

“Miss Bustier, is there a problem?” Tim asked, causing the French teacher to suck in a deep breath. Ah, she forgot about him. Figures. “Well?”

“Just a miscommunication is all.” Bustier tried to say.

“I assume that was Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow at Bustier. “The one that is supposed to be dealing with disciplinary problems?”

“She chopped off Lila’s hair!” One of the teens seethed out as she tried to sooth the Lair’s tears away. “And she just stepped on her foot.”

Tim looked at Lila to see that her shoes were scruff free, her hair… well, it’s in a bob. He could only shake his head. Oh, how much he wants to cancel this trip. He’s close to doing it too. Taking in a deep breath, he looked back at Bustier. “Far as I am concerned, she is not part of this trip. You have no control over them. You, however, have control over the rest of your students. Now go get in line, we are about to board.”

-.-

Tim sat in his first class seat, asking the stewardess for a large cup of coffee. When he gets back home, he’s going to apologize to Bruce for all the shit he ever pulled on him throughout the years. This doesn’t include his own kids, but that is beside the point of it all. He had to deal with a bunch of whiny teens that are going on and on how the evil Marinette getting first class seats while they all have coach. Evil this, evil that, and here he was talking with said evil person, chatting away on her dream of becoming a fashion designer and how the Jagged Stone has hired her personally to design his clothes while he’s on tour.

It also helps that the woman from earlier, Penny Rolling is Jagged’s agent and confirmed her story. From what Tim could summarize what had happened was that Lila Rossi had cut her own hair to the point it was unsalvageable and blamed it on Marinette, claiming the designer did it. No one took Marinette’s side except for her two friends, Kim and Nino.

Despite the fact that Marinette was with Kim and Nino when this… accident had occurred, no one bothered to listen to reason. This caused Tim really regret not canceling the trip for the other Parisians. That was until Penny made mention that there was no point in going up against the girl… at that instant. If the girl wants a to be the center of attention, oh, she will get it.

Tim couldn’t help but laugh at the agent’s words before he quickly sobered up. Despite the fact Marinette and her friends are still going to Neo-Gotham, but they won’t have the same experience as the others… although, thinking further into it, it wouldn’t be all that great of a trip for them if Rossi keeps trying to sabotage them at every step.

At least they found a way to enjoy their time in the city…

“Excuse me, Mr. Drake…?”

Tim looked up at one of the stewardess to see her holding a note. “Is something the matter?”

“You have a message from one… Dick Grayson” The stewardess replied uncertainty, handing over the note to Tim.

Tim took the note and a raised eye brow. He watched as the stewardess scurry of before looking down at the note. Unfolding it to see what was written on it only caused both eyebrows to shot up.

Check the Neo-Gotham news!

Tim pulled out his cellphone and turned it back on. By the time his phone had booted up, he was bombarded by many missed texts, lost calls, and many news notifications all stemming from his home city. When he went to check on the latest text, he got another notification from a news station he follows.

Tapping on the notification and the headline of the article has him quickly making a group call with all the former batboys.

Tomorrow is Here, The Return of Batman!

“Okay, which one of you did it. Which one of you is the new Batman… What did you expect, Jason! I haven’t been in the same country, let alone continent… I don’t know, Damian! Bruce prefers to be alone and hardly bothers to talk to anyone outside of the family… Thanks Dick…  Let’s get this straight, whoever this new Batman is, is none of us… That’s what I thought.” Tim pulled his phone away from his ear as Dick, Jason and Damian started to argue among themselves on whatever is going on in Neo-Gotham. Apparently, there’s a new Batman and they have no clue who took on the old mantle of the Dark Night. Or as the Tomorrow Knight as people are taking to call him as now. Taking in a deep breath, Tim put the phone back by his ear. “I’m on a plan heading back home. I’ll talk to Bruce about this… What do you guys mean you won’t be here until then?… Just get here as soon as possible.”

-.-

Terry double checked that he has all of Bruce’s medications counted before placing them all in a small plant along with a sandwich and a steaming cup of tea. If he’s going to be dubbed Bruce Wayne’s part-time assistant, he might as well play the part. He has nothing against it, the old man is giving him the opportunity in becoming the new Batman. Plus, but the looks of it, there was really no one there to help Bruce as often as needed. Mainly making sure the guy doesn’t have a heart attack by doing the simplest of tasks… like saving him.

Terry shook his head as he picked up the tray and headed towards the room where Bruce is with Ace. Taking in a deep breath, he made his way to his new mentor.

Pushing the door open, Terry caught Bruce putting something away in his coat. He raised an eyebrow but made no comment. For all he knew it was other medication Bruce doesn’t want him to know about. “Remind me to go grocery shopping later. For a rich guy, your pantry is pretty bare.”

“Alfred used to keep the place stock…” Bruce briefly mentioned, reaching over to Ace to scratch his head. “Tim mainly just whatever he thinks is best for me…which isn’t much.”

“Tim?”

“One of my sons. You will be seeing him often as he pops by to make sure I’m properly taking care of myself.” Terry could hear the eye roll Bruce did at the mention of taking care of himself. “If you see a thirty something year old male that looks like he’s on the verge of collapsing… it’s him.”

“Is… is this the same man that took over Wayne Enterprises?” Terry enquired, placing the tray on a small table next to Bruce’s chair.

“He is. Out of my four sons, he took the most interest in taking over the company.”

“Got it.” Terry grumbled, taking a seat opposite of Bruce. He watched as the older male take his sandwich and eat it uninterestingly. A thought popped through his head suddenly, causing him to tense. “All your sons were past Robins and the occasional Batman… right?”

Bruce eyed Terry suspiciously before nodding, taking another bite from his food. “Your point?”

“Did you tell any of them about me?” Terry asked.

“I did not. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them barges through that door… right about now.”

Slam!

The doors of the room slammed open to reveal a very sleep deprived male, frantically looking around for who knows what. When his eyes landed on Terry, his slowly blinked over to Bruce and back at Terry before leaving the room. An awkward silence filled the air when the sound of the front door being slammed open and shut.

Terry looked over at Bruce just to see the man still munching on his sandwich. “Who was that?”

“That would be Tim.” Bruce said without missing a beat.

Terry looked taken aback at that statement. The same guy that’s supposed to look after Bruce, the same guy that looks like he’s going to keel over? Yeah, no. Tim looks like he hasn’t slept in months and is need of a proper meal. “…And he now the head of Wayne Enterprise?”

“I’m one of the chairmen.” Bruce stated.

The sound of the front door being slammed open reverberated throughout the seemingly quiet manor. Stomping all the way to the room Terry and Bruce are in. Tim came back, staring at Terry with a wide variety of emotions. “Who are you? Did Bruce adopt you? What’s your backstory? What’s your name…?”

Terry looked taken aback, he looked over at Bruce, hoping for some sort of help. Nope. The old man just took his medication and used his tea to drink it down. “…”

“Well?” Tim questioned, storming into the room. He now stood in between Bruce and Terry, waiting for the teen to answer his questions. “Who are you?”

“His father used to work for Wayne Enterprises.” Bruce butted in, emphasizing on a particular word.  

This only caused Tim to raise his hands into the air in defeat as he caught drift on Bruce’s meaning of the words, used to. “Great…. He did take in another one… If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my brothers.”

With that, Tim one again left the room leaving being a very perplexed Terry and annoyed Bruce.

“What the hell was that?” Terry questioned.

“…He gets like that whenever he’s off his coffee.”

-.-

Marinette, Nino and Kim did their best to ignore how Neo-Gotham gave them the creeps. It was clear the city needed massive cleaning up when it comes to crime. From what they had gathered, things had deteriorated since Batman had hung his cape for good. Shortly being followed by his former sidekicks. Since then, crime has risen to the point it makes them wonder if the city will ever be crime-free.

Maybe they’ll help while they are in the city for the time being.

“Spots On!”

“Shell On!”

“Show Time!”

-.-

Tim sat in front of the computer mainframe inside the Batcave, on a multi-line video chat with Dick, Barbara, Jason and Damian. “You know him, Barbs?”

“Terrence ‘Terry’ McGinnis has multiple run ins with the GCPD. Even serving a three-month stint in juvie for running with a street gang.” Commissioner Barbara Gordon said, her expression stern and not at all liking the fact that Bruce had managed to find someone to take over the mantle of Batman.

Jason whistled at that. “Damn. What this kids’ home life like?”

“His father was murdered the other night… in order to keep him quiet.” Barbara said, her eyes narrowed down onto Tim. For his own part, Tim wanted to earth to swallow him up. “Something about one of your business partners, by the name of Derek Powers, was creating a formula and one Warren McGinnis was a part of the research division of it.”

Once more, Tim slumped further into his chair as he thought over the business deal he had with Derek Powers. It was nothing out of the ordinary really. They both had something the other needed, and Powers just wanted to use the Wayne’s Labs for further research on a formula. Nothing out of the norm really! This has been done multiple times with different companies in the past. But it appears this time around… it was anything but the norm.

“Powers had Warren killed. Terry found out, and wanted payback. What’s new?” Damian rolled his eyes not at all amused by the entire situation. “I just want to know how he managed to get the suit.”

“Bruce is refusing to tell me anything and all of you know how he is.” Tim said, fixing himself back into the seat before he had the chance to fall off it.

“Does he gave a family?” Dick asked quietly, almost being talked over by Jason demanding Tim to demand for more answers.

Once again, Barbara answered. “He’s now living with his mother and had a younger brother.”

“Do they get along?” Jason asked.

“They do. More so after Terry’s return from juvie.”

“You know something…” Jason mused, he wasn’t facing the screen anymore, paying more attention to whatever was on his phone. “If I didn’t know any better…”

“Which you don’t.” Damian butted in.

“Shut it squirt!” Jason shot back.

“I’m not a child anymore, Todd!”

“That’s enough!” Dick said, breaking up a possible fight. “No more fighting. We’re not children anymore.”

Jason tsk’ed but continued with his train of thought. “The kid looks a lot like Damian when he was around that age.”

At this, everyone turned their attention to Damian who’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, nearly choking on a beverage he was drinking. “Let me assure you, I am not like father who sleeps with random women.”

“…You got to admit… Terry has Bruce’s chin…” Dick pointed out.

Silence…

“Who wants to bet Bruce didn’t wear a condom?”

A sharp ring interrupted any possible bets, Tim reached up and started to figure out what set off the alarm. Pulling up a screen that showed something… really, really… really odd. “So… a ladybug, a turtle and a monkey walked into a movie theater that’s being held up in gun point…”

TBC.

If anyone wants to be part of the tag list, don’t hesitate to ask

[sweet-pea-imagines]

The Act (Sweet Pea X Reader) (Lyric Imagine) Requested.

Request: Can you do a sweet pea x reader to the song 18 by anarbor?

Requested by: @skeletalwolfcat

Summary: All you wanted to do was prove to your parents that you were grown up…that you didn’t need them. Not only did you prove your point to them, but you fell for you partner in crime along the way.

Warnings: probably cussing, underage drinking, fighting, implied verbal abuse.

Word Count: 5,876

Just a quick note, this is my first imagine based from a song! The lyrics will be in bold. Some of them will be before certain paragraphs setting up for the scenario, and some will be said by characters themselves. Sorry lol, I’m over explaining. Anyway! Here we go….

You and Sweet Pea had known each other since the fourth grade. Naturally, you two became best friends pretty quickly. Your calm demeanor balanced out his spazziness, and vice versa. Everyone always said that you two would be the perfect couple, however that never happened…well, until you both graduated.

18, crazy

It all started at a wild graduation party at some random Northsider’s house the weekend after graduation. Sweet Pea had somehow managed to convince you to go to said party, after much persuading and eventually a promise of chocolate and a movie afterwards. Of course, you agreed. You were his best friend, you had to be with him at the graduation party.

“Oh, come on Y/N,” Sweet Pea said, nudging your shoulder as he drove. “It’ll be fun! I promise.”

“It better be,” you grumbled. “I don’t want to have to go outside for no good reason.” He chuckled at your introverted self and turned his eyes back on the road.  

After a short drive the two of you arrived at the house party. You couldn’t help but notice how secluded the house was. Already, there was blasting music pulsing from inside the house. Teens sat on the porch; some dancing, some drinking, and a younger couple sat on the porch swing making out. Wonderful, you thought as you stepped down from the Sweet Pea’s truck. You immediately crossed your arms and waited for him to come around for you.

“Aw, come on bashful,” he said. His large arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walked up the path to the house. He knew how anxious you got in social situations. “I will stay with you all night okay? You will not be leaving my sight.”

“Pinky swear?” You held up your little finger to him. He chuckled, but locked pinkies with you, nonetheless.

“Pinky swear.”

That promise lasted maybe ten minutes until you slipped away from him as he talked to a friend and got hopelessly lost. People didn’t even bother to watch out for you, rather just shoving you out of the way. You began to panic rather quickly considering you barely knew anyone here other than Sweet Pea. This house is fucking huge, you thought to yourself as you found your way outside. There was a pool and hot tub, surrounded by tipsy teens. Scanning the crowd for any sign of your friend, you caught the eye of an obviously drunk guy across the pool from you. He was giving you the stare, making you increasingly uncomfortable as he licked his lips. You rolled your eyes and turned on your heel, taking your search elsewhere.

Finding yourself inside once more, you shrugged passed people, throwing manners out the window. You were stressed and lost and tired. Soon you found yourself at the drink table. Not trusting any of the punch there, you sat against the wall beside the table and pulled out your phone. You’d barely been at the party for half an hour, and you already felt more anxious than you could have anticipated. With shaky hands you typed a quick message to Sweet Pea, telling him where you were and that you were freaking out.

“Come on Pea, where are you?” you mumbled to yourself after a few minutes. Although you really wanted to, you didn’t leave your position, but stood from your seat and stretched to see above the crowd.

“You need some help there baby?” It was the creepy guy from the pool. Scoffing, you turned away.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The guy was suddenly right behind you, breathing in your ear. You gagged at the smell of his rank breath. Before you could walk away, he grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him.

“Let go.” You said sternly. Only, he didn’t listen, but rather slid one hand down to your ass. That set you off. Without another word, you spun around and packed all your weight behind your elbow, hitting him dead on the nose. “I said to the let me fucking go!” you screamed as he stumbled into the table, falling on his ass. People turned around and stared at you.

“You fucking bitch,” the guy stood up and tried to lunge at you. Sweet Pea intercepted him, punching him in the gut before throwing him back into the wall.

“Sweets, let’s just go, please.” Your eyes welled with tears and panic. As soon as he heard your voice, he turned around. You grabbed his arm and urged him through the crowd, tears streaming down your face. As soon as you got outside and into his truck, you started apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry Pea,” you cried. “I didn’t mean to run off and ruin your night. I-I should’ve stayed home. I should’ve—”

“Hey, no, no. You didn’t ruin my night. Aw, come ‘ere,” he cooed, pulling you closer to him as you shook. He knew if he didn’t calm you down soon, you’d go into full panic attack mode. He wrapped his arms around you, laying your head on his chest so he could smooth your hair. “You did nothing wrong Y/N, nothing wrong at all.”

“I—I got you in—in a fight,” you stuttered, crying harder. He gently kissed the top of your head, calming your sobs before responding.

“When have I ever been mad about getting in a fight?” he chuckled lightly. The rumble of his laugh the calm thrum of his heart had calmed you down enough to laugh quietly. You sat up slowly. “There she is,” he grinned at you. “Now, how about we ditch this lame ass party and get some milkshakes yeah?” You grinned widely and nodded. “Buckle up.” You took the middle seat, rather than the window, wanting to be closer to him.

Pulled up in your daddy’s car

The low rumble of your dad’s SUV pulling into the trailer park early the next morning woke Sweet Pea up. Alarmed at your early appearance, he jumped out of bed and unlocked the door. As he pulled it open, he saw a peek of your tear-stricken face. You climbed the porch slowly, wiping away your tears.

“Hey Sunshine,” he greeted. As soon as you heard his voice you burst into tears.

“They kicked me out,” you cried. Pea pulled you into a bear hug and led you inside.

“They don’t deserve to have you in their house anyway,” he said, sitting beside you on the couch.

“Pea…where am I gonna go? I have no one!” You tried to compose yourself but failed miserably. He let you lay on his shoulder.

“No, you have me. You will always, always, have me.” His blood boiled at the fact that your parents would just throw you out. You were only a few months over 18, it was just sick. “Hey, listen, you wanna move in with me? You’ll have a home.” Guess we’re off to a heavy start, you thought.

“Oh Sweets, I can’t let you do that,” you said, sitting up finally. “I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“You’re not going to be. And yes, you can. You are staying here. Deal with it,” he smiled. You tackled him in a hug, your tears of pain turning into tears of happiness.

“Thank you, Sweet Pea, so much.”

…

“Why do you put things up so high?” You stood on your toes, trying to grab the salt from the cupboard. You had insisted on making a real dinner for your first night staying with Sweet Pea.

“Because I’m not short like you are!” Sweet Pea replied, reaching above you. He handed you the seasoning as you slapped his arm.

“I am not short!” you protested. “I am average height. You, on the other hand, are simply a tree.” He chuckled, turning away from you to sauté some vegetables for your stir-fry. The two of you laughed and danced to Queen as you made dinner. 

For the first time in a long time, you had fun…something you thought wouldn’t ever find you again. And yet, it did; in the form of Sweet Pea. He was your knight in shining armor, your bright sun after a rainy day, your happiness after weeks of being left in the dark. Because of him, you felt like you finally belonged somewhere…right here, dancing in the kitchen to music way before your time with your best friend.

As Sweet Pea stood staring at you snapping your fingers to Another One Bites the Dust, he couldn’t help but feel something that heated him from the inside out. It was a feeling that brought color to his cheeks, a smile to his face. His thoughts wandered to a far place where he could protect you, make you happy forever.….no, oh no, no, no, he thought to himself. You cannot like her. It hit him very suddenly. He never thought he’d like you that way, but when he looked back, even by a few hours, he had for a while. Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away, he thought.

“It’s doooooone!” you exclaimed, spinning in multiple circles, finally bowing. Sweet Pea chuckled and clapped.

“You’re worried.” Sweet Pea had been watching you eating. Not in a creepy way, you were just quieter than usual. You sat across from him at the coffee table, eyebrows scrunched as you ate. Your gaze snapped up to meet his, you blushed.

“Am not.”

“I’ve known you for what? 8 years now?” he sighed. “I think I’d know if my best friend was worried by now. Come on now, what is it?” he pointed at you with his fork. You sighed deeply, thinking for a moment.

“It’s just…I have to get my stuff from my parent’s tomorrow, and I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled. He gazed at you for a long moment. “You know how they are…. I have this aggressive feeling to just royally piss them off. To just make them so mad that they’ll finally realize that I don’t need them.” You were clenching your fists, locking your jaw. Even through your hate you saw Sweet Pea’s mouth open to say something, but close almost instantly. “What? What is it?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” he trailed. “Really, it was nothing.”

“You’re lying. You can’t lie to me, you’re terrible at it.”

“I just had an idea. A dumb one at that.” You waved your hands in circles, prompting him to continue. “What if we…well, just here me out here. What if we pretended to be together? Your parents have always hated me, so I was thinking—”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” You exclaimed. “They’ll hate that!” Sweet Pea was surprised by how quickly you accepted the idea. “We can hold hands and stuff! And you can call me babe or something!” You were very excited about getting back at your half ass parents. “Or better yet, I’ll call you something like that. They will be furious!” You couldn’t help but giggle excitedly at the idea. Sweet Pea chuckled at your excitement and shook his head as you rambled on about how everything was going to work out.

18 crazy

I know what you want from me

I know what you want from me

“Yes, Y/N, I know,” Sweet Pea said. You had already explained the plan to fool your parents multiple times. At this point, he wasn’t sure if you were over explaining because you were excited or nervous. Knowing you, it was probably both.

“Sorry, sorry.” You wrung your hands as Sweet Pea pulled into your parent’s driveway. “Okay. We got this,” you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment. “This will go over smoothly.”

“Uh…alright creepy…let’s get going, yeah?”

“Right, sorry.” You apologized.

“Y/N,” he warned, “we’ve talked about this. You don’t need to apologize about everything you do.”

“Yes, you’re right. Sor—no, I’m okay, just nervous. You do know what to do right?”

“Yes Y/N.” He climbed out of his truck and helped you down. His arm wrapped over your shoulders, you approached your home.

So if you wanna piss off your parents

Date me to scare them

Show them you’re all grown up

If long hair and tattoos

Are what attract you

Baby then you’re in luck

Sweet Pea knocked heavily on the front door, kissing your head just as someone yanked the door open, for affect of course.

Your dad stood in the doorway, obviously surprised by the scenario in front of him. He glared at Sweet Pea even though he was a full head shorter.

“Heeeey…Dad,” you greeted. “Came to get my stuff, since you know, you and Mom kicked me out.” Your Dad simply grumbled under his breath and stepped out of the way, barely leaving enough room for you to go through. Sweets shouldered passed. As you stepped in, you could see your mother down the hall in the kitchen. She quickly disappeared when you made eye contact with her.

“Your stuff upstairs baby?” Sweet Pea asked. You nodded, being sure to check for a reaction from your father. He looked like he was fuming but trying to hide it. Smirking, you led Sweet Pea up to your bedroom.

“Damn,” you mumbled, “they move on fast.”

You surveyed the room. There were boxes everywhere, full of all your stuff. Tears stung at the back of your eyes as you looked around at the empty room. It was like your whole childhood was packed away, held in boxes too small.

“You okay?” Sweet Pea asked suddenly, breaking you from your thoughts. You nodded, knowing your voice would deceive you if you spoke. He came to stand in front of you. His big hands lifted to cup your face. He swiped away the tears on your cheeks that you didn’t know had fallen. “You’ve always been such a bad liar.” You sniffled. And in that moment, as you stared into his chocolate brown eyes, as his hands cupped your face, you realized something. Something burned deep in your chest, and you had the sudden urge to kiss him, right then and there, even though tears were streaming gently down your face. No, no, no! you thought. You cannot like him! He’s your best friend! “Come’ ere,” he mumbled. He pulled your head into his chest, holding you as you cried.

“Sweets,” you cried into his chest, “I should-I should be here to get my-to get my stuff for-college. Not because they kicked me out!”

“Oh princess, I know, I know,” he ran his fingers through your hair as you cried harder. It was as if he could feel you falling apart at the seams in his arms. Every sob, every tear, every sniffle, was just another part of you, breaking from your body. His heart broke as yours did. This was something he couldn’t fix. He couldn’t pull you back into one piece once you fell apart, but he could try to hold you together, and try he would.

After a few minutes Sweet Pea pulled away, wiped your tears.

“Hey, look at me,” he demanded gently. “We are gonna get your stuff and go. You aren’t gonna let them see your cry okay?” You nodded quickly, wiping at your nose. He quickly kissed your forehead, making your heart jump, and started grabbing boxes.

To say your parents were pissed was an understatement. They were fuming by the time you and Sweet Pea left. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on their faces.

“We should do that more often,” I laughed.

“What? Piss off your parents?” he chuckled. You nodded enthusiastically. “Fuck yeah. I’m down if you are.” You grinned at him and tried to bury your feelings as you drove off.

And I know it’s just a phase

You’re not in love with me

You wanna piss off your parents baby

Piss off your parents

Without realizing it the two of you had become increasingly closer. In public he always had his arm around your shoulders, occasionally whispering in your ear, making you giggle. More often than not he called you princess or babygirl; you’d call him Sweets. He’d often sneak up behind you at the Wyrm to pick you up, spinning you around. He loved the way you squealed and laughed.

Your parents surely thought you were dating. On the rare occasion that you saw them in public, they refused to make eye contact with you. It broke your heart a little more every damn time. And Sweet Pea knew how broken you felt, he could see it whenever someone mentioned their parents. But slowly, over the course of a couple of months, he gradually helped you to collect all your pieces and put you back together. He replaced your now heartbreaking family memories into joyful ones full of laughter, friends, and love. So much love.

Even your friends were starting to believe you two were dating. Toni and Fangs were constantly gossiping about how much they shipped it. They asked you and Sweet Pea often if you were together, dating, or sleeping together. And no matter how many times you said you were just friends, they never believed you.

However, Sweet Pea felt deep down that what you two had wasn’t real. He felt that he knew that you were just going through a phase of being in love with your bad boy best friend. As much as he wished that you felt the same, he knew you didn’t. To him it didn’t matter how many times you kissed his cheek or told him you loved him in public, it was all an act. You weren’t in love with him, you couldn’t be in love with someone like him. In his mind you were too good for him. Smart, loving, caring, cheery, selfless, the list went on and on…he was none of those.  He could never—

“Sweets. Sweets! Hey!” You were waving your hand at him from the kitchen. He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at you.

“Yeah?” You laughed at his dazed state.

“Do you want a beer with your dinner?” You emphasized every word slowly, holding in your laughter.

“Oh, uh no. I’m good,” he replied groggily. He hadn’t realized that he was dozing off on the couch.

“Okay,” you chuckled. You turned away and started plating dinner again. He couldn’t help but watch you as you worked. And he suddenly realized something.

That’s alright with me

It didn’t matter if this was all an act on your part, or if every hug and sweet whispers and ‘I love you’ was fake, because your smile was always real. Your laughter at his dumb jokes? Real. The blush that creeped up your cheeks when he kissed your head? Real. Every bit of joy he brought to you was real, and that’s all that mattered. If he could bring a smile to your face on a bad day, then this trick on your parents was alright with him.

You know I’m broke

As much as he tried to hide it, you knew Sweet Pea was stressed. There was bills to pay and food to buy, and he was just dead ass broke. He hadn’t had a run for FP in weeks. His last pay all went to bills. That was before you got a job though.

“I can always help you know,” you said.

It was well after midnight and Sweet Pea was out on the couch, trying to figure out how many shifts at the motorcycle shop he could work. You had been sleeping in his bed since you moved in, and he passed out on the couch’s pull out each night, refusing to make you sleep on the couch.

“No, not gonna happen,” he replied sternly. You sighed and approached him. Folding your legs to your side, you sat down beside him, resting an arm on his hunched shoulder.

“You’re gonna have to let me help out eventually hun.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Sweets, I can help, you know that,” you leaned forward to look at him.

“You shouldn’t have to though,” he sighed, running a tired hand through his already messy locks.

“Well, I can and I’m going to,” you concluded.

So you pulled out your daddy’s card

“Where are you going?” You jogged down the hall to the bedroom as Sweet Pea called after you. Grabbing your tote bag, you padded back to him quickly. You plopped back on the couch beside him, bag in your lap. When you couldn’t find what you were looking for, you resulted to dumping your bag out on the coffee table. “What are you doing? You’re making a mess!” Sweet Pea exclaimed.

“I couldn’t find my wallet,” you stated, as if that explained why you just made a huge mess on his coffee table.

“Probably because you have twelve books in your bag.”

“Are you throwing shade at my books?” He shrugged in response, making you laugh. “And I actually have four, well, three. Four including my planner.”

“Why do you need a planner? You don’t do anything!”

“First of all, that was rude!” you chided. You grabbed your wallet and started opening it, fighting receipts that threatened to fall out. “Second, I’m not arguing with you about my books right now.” This time he laughed. Finally, you found what you were looking for. “Aha! Here, use this.”

“What is—is this your dad’s debit card?” He was alarmed, taking the plastic card from you.

“Well, no. Not technically. My name is on the account, meaning only I can take money out. His name is just on the card,” you explained to a confused Sweets. “He made a bank account for me when I was little and put money in it almost every payday.”

“What was the money for?” he asked. He knew you weren’t telling him the full story.

“Um…”

“Tell me.” His tone and look were stern.

“College…”

“No! Absolutely not! We are not using that!” He exclaimed. “That is money meant to get you through college babe, not to pay bills.”

“Sweets come on. Let me help just this once, please?” you begged. “Just this one time, then I’ll get a job and we won’t have to use my college funds, please.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, hands clasped at your chest.

“I—” he fought for an answer for a moment. “Fine! Just stop looking at me like that.” You laughed and hugged him quickly. “Just this once Y/N, no more.”

***

No matter how much Sweet Pea told himself that none of this mattered because it was all a game, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t good enough for you. Even if this was all fake, he still wasn’t good enough. But you still managed to change his mind sometimes.

“Come on Pea!” You were currently trying to tug him to the pool tables, not even making him budge. “Pleeeeeeaaase?” You pleaded. He caved instantly when he saw your puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, whatever. Fine!”

“Yay!” You pulled him over and grabbed a stick to chalk it. He followed in suit. “Okay, where do we start?” You asked excitedly. For the next hour he taught you how to hold your cue just right and how to make your perfect shot. He loved how happy he could make you. He began to think that maybe this could be real. But he grabbed a beer to sip and realized he was wrong. No, he thought, I’m not good enough for her. I drink, I smoke.

“I really shouldn’t be drinking around you,” he said. You gave him a confused look.

“What? Why?” you asked. “I don’t mind. Plus, I think stoners are kind of hot,” you winked playfully, making him laugh. He never actually smoke cigarettes, just pot.

“I mean yeah. You ate it up from the very start,” he chuckled. Your friends sat at the bar, a good ways away, watching their two best friends flirt and laugh.

“There is no way they aren’t dating!” Toni exclaimed.

“Maybe they’re just hooking up on the down low,” Fangs suggested, sipping his beer.

“No way! They have to be dating.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just watch the way they look at each other Fangs. Or the way they talk to each other. They are both just so happy when the other is around,” She concluded. Fangs shrugged in response, then smiled when he realized she was right. He could see how much love and affection was in your eyes when you looked at Sweet Pea. And he could see how much Sweet Pea reciprocated it.

“Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away,” Fangs admitted. Toni nodded in agreement. Neither one could stop smiling as they watched their two best friends slowly fall deeper and deeper into one another.

I’ll play your game

I know what you want from me

I know what you want from me

You and Sweet Pea had been in the grocery store when you saw them. They stood at the other end of the aisle, not noticing you as you reached for a bottle of olive oil. Sweet Pea followed your gaze and noticed them as well. You gave him a pleading look as they were about to turn around, knowing they’d see you. As much as he was hating this all being fake, he complied.

So if you wanna piss off your parents

Date me to scare them

Show they your all grown up

As your parents turned around, Sweet Pea slid one hand into your back pocket, using the other to grab the bottle for you. You giggled genuinely when he slid into your pocket, making him chuckle. He through the bottle into the cart and turned you to face him, resting his empty hand on your hip.

If long hair and tattoos are what attract you

Baby then you’re in luck

You ran your fingers through his long hair before tracing his neck tattoo with your finger. Out of the corner of your eye you caught your parents looking.

“I love you Sweet Pea,” you said softly. It was barely loud enough for them to hear, but they did. They turned away and stormed off down the aisle. Laughing, the two of you broke off from each other and continued on with your shopping trip.

It had been an exhausting day for the both of you. After a late dinner, the two of you settled on the couch, eventually finding your self on his chest where you dozed off. Sweet Pea ran his fingers through your soft hair as the movie played. Looking down at you, he couldn’t fight the knot in his chest. Ever since you said you loved him in the store, he’d been thinking. Thinking about how genuine it seemed, how happy you were. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it seemed like you meant it. He wanted to tell you how he felt, so bad it hurt. Wanted to tell you how happy you made him. How much he loved you. How much he wanted to make you feel like the most amazing girl in the world…because to him you were.

“Y/N,” he muttered softly. “Y/N.” He was a bit louder this time. When you didn’t respond, he took it as a sign.

“I love you,” he began. “And if I’m being honest, I have for a long time. It hurts. I just want you to feel the same, and sometimes it seems like you do. I want this to be real, all of it. But I can’t forget that it’s not. That you’re not mine. And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me. You just wanna piss off your parents baby…yeah, piss off your parents. But if I can make you happy, even for a little bit…that’s alright with me.”

You woke up to the Sun shining right in your eyes. Groaning, you rolled over, searching for someone. But he wasn’t there. He never slept in the same bed with you, which you hated. Although, he did let you fall asleep with him on the couch last night, laying on his chest. He must’ve carried me back here. Picking up your phone, you smiled at how it was plugged in, another thing he must’ve done for you.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, surprised. It was already nearly noon, which wasn’t terribly late, but you would’ve thought you’d wake up by now. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you made your way lazily down the hall into the kitchen. Sweet Pea was sat on the couch, already dressed and ready for the day.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty,” he greeted. You waved at him as you yawned and stretched, a smile on your face. You plopped down onto the couch beside him and snuggled into his side. Out of habit, he wrapped his arm around your frame. The two of you sat in silence, except for whatever football game was on, for a few minutes before he spoke up. “Want some coffee?”

“Yes please,” you replied. He couldn’t hide his smile as he stood up. “I love you so much,” you sighed gratefully as he handed you your coffee.

“No you don’t,” he said sharply. “Don’t say that.”

“Wait—yes I do. What—” you stuttered, searching your head for the right words.

“No you don’t. Now stop it.” He gave you a warning glance. Is he actually mad at me about this? You thought.

“What is your problem?” You looked at him from your side of the couch, confused at how fast his mood changed.

“You’re not allowed to say that you love me. Not here.”

“What the hell do you mean Sweet Pea? I tell you that all the time. I tell everyone that.” He stood up and stormed into the kitchen, trying to put some distance between the two of you. Setting down your cup, you looked up at him from across the room.

I know what you want from me, he thought.

So if you wanna piss off your parents

“Yeah, you can tell your friends that you love me. You can make your parents think you love me to make them mad. I don’t care about that.” He clenched his jaw. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it again.

Date me to scare them

“But don’t you ever say it to me again, especially when we are alone.” He paused. You searched his face for answers to what was happening. “This was all just some fake relationship so you could piss off your parents, show them you’re all grown up.

If long hair and tattoos are what attract you

Baby then you’re in luck

“Sweet Pea…” you sighed. “I don’t understand. You agreed to this.” Your voice was becoming harsher as you spoke longer. Frustration was boiling in your stomach.

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted. “But I didn’t think it would be so real.” He stared at you for a moment, eventually looking away.

“What do you mean?” you wanted answers.

“I mean that I—”

“You what Sweet Pea?” You asked gently. You stood up and approached him.

“I love you,” he said. “And I hate that I do.” His voice was cold, his face stony.

“I love you too,” you admitted.

“Stop lying to me!” He snapped.

“I’m not lying to you!” you yelled back, fists clenched. He refused to meet your eyes.

“I know it’s just a phase. You’re not in love with me.”

And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Your hands shook as tears welled in your eyes.

“Because—” he paused. “This was never supposed to happen. This was all supposed to be an act to make your parents regret leaving you behind. But ever since that first night…I can’t help but hope this is real…somehow.” He looked so vulnerable; guard down, face softened.

“Sweet Pea…” tears slipped down your cheeks. He looked up when he heard you sniffle. “Why do you think I kept this going? Why do you think I didn’t stop playing this game…?... I fell in love you,” a sob broke your words. “so hard.” His heart sunk. Why hadn’t he seen it all along? For months the two of you had been falling for each other and no one knew. Neither one of you knew…

“I—I’m sorry.” In two long strides he was in front of you. He took your face in his hands.

You wanna piss off your parents baby

Piss off your parents

That’s alright

You wanna piss off your parents baby

Piss of your parents

That’s alright with me

And he pressed his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss, lips molding perfectly into his. It was as if your lips were meant to align, like you were meant to be kissing him, and only him. Butterflies and fireworks ignited in your stomach, bringing heat to your cheeks that he could surely feel as his big hands cupped your face.

The kiss was slow…and gentle. Oh, so gentle. Tears still fell from your eyes and you were sure they were of relief.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you lifted yourself onto your toes. His hands fell to your hips, holding you flush against him. And you kissed for what seemed like hours but was only a few perfect little moments.

He pulled away breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours. Smiles of relief and pure joy broke onto both of your faces. A breathy laugh escaped your lips. Your eyes fluttering closed, you moved your hands to his shoulders.

“I knew it had to be real,” Sweet Pea whispered.

“It was always real love.”

“I’ve waited so long for this. I love you so much Y/N.”

“I love you two Sweet Pea.”

 The next day, the two of you walked into the Wyrm, hand in hand. Toni and Fangs could tell by the looks on your faces that it was official.

“It’s about damn time,” Toni smiled widely.

“You guys look good together,” Fangs added.

You blushed as Sweet Pea pulled you onto his lap, kissing your temple. You turned just enough to kiss him on the lips. Everyone cheered. Apparently, you were the only two who didn’t see what you had. But finally, after a long wait, both of you knew.

I am so sorry this took so long to write. I have been in a serious writing rut lately, but finally I just hunkered down and wrote this. It took me about the span of a week to write and it is the longest thing I’ve ever written anywhere. I am so in love with it and so proud of how it turned out. I hope you all loved it too. I love you all and thank you for being so patient with me.

Tag list: @madaboutlili @mareenxbr @cassieluci @xhannahxjaynexx @sweetpeas-sweetpea @choke-me-sweet-pea

[caedmonfaith]

The Admirer

Rose has no idea who has been leaving pink and yellow roses on her desk every morning before class. She knows who she wants it to be, but that's impossible. Who, then?

Twelve/Rose, professor/student/university AU. rated M, updates on Mondays and Thursdays starting June 10!

Read it on ao3!

Spring Term, 2019

Rose’s astronomy class was early, 8am, and most of the time she wore her comfiest of socially acceptable clothes when she went. Jeans and jumpers, usually, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Occasionally, when she was exceptionally tired or running late, she wouldn’t even bother with makeup.

She was capable of looking much better, but she wasn’t interested in trying to catch the eye of any of her classmates - certainly not at that ungodly hour. She was too bleary to care about blokes, really, at stupid o’clock in the morning. Besides that, she’d sworn them off when she started uni, determined to graduate with her first - and without distraction.

The one bloke she did have her eye on was utterly unattainable. Her astronomy professor - Dr. Ian Docherty, or ‘the Doctor’, as he was known around campus - was significantly older than Rose, utterly brilliant, and handsome as sin, to boot, with his sharp features and salt-and-pepper hair. That wasn’t even taking into consideration that she was a student in his class twice a week until the end of the semester. There was no point in her even entertaining the thought of a relationship with him or that her crush might be reciprocated, so she didn’t. She just trudged to class, taking her customary seat on the front row, determined to keep her head down, keep her crush under control, and to pass with the highest grade she could muster.

Every Tuesday and Thursday morning for the first two months of the term, Rose had filed into her lecture along with her fifty classmates and made her way to her seat. On this particular morning in early March, however, she froze when her desk came into sight.

Lying on it was a single pink and yellow rose, wrapped in green florist’s paper with a little pink ribbon tied around it. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to assess whether she’d mistakenly gone to the wrong class or was on the wrong row - something. But no, she was definitely in the right place - all the faces surrounding her were familiar and it was definitely the Doctor at the front of the room.

She approached the desk curiously, eyes locked on the rose, and noticed a little note attached to the ribbon. Looking around the room one more time, she didn’t see anyone watching her, so she unfolded the paper. In careful block script, it read, Just wanted to brighten the day of the girl who brightens mine every Tuesday and Thursday.

There was no name, but Rose felt herself flushing with happiness anyway, a smile blooming across her face. Then she realized the absolute lack of care she’d put into her appearance and was mortified. Her face scarlet, she sat down in her seat and tried to act like everything was normal.

By the time of her next astronomy class, Rose had convinced herself that the flower on her desk had to have been a fluke, or a practical joke. She forced herself to go in the same comfy clothes she always wore - although she did make sure to wear some makeup and style her hair nicely. All the way there, she warned herself sternly not to put any stock into the flower that had been left for her last time. It wouldn’t happen again. There was no way.

Except when Rose started down the aisle towards the front of the lecture hall and her seat, there was another pink and yellow rose in green paper with a pink bow lying on her desk. Her steps quickened to get to it, and she grabbed it up before she even dropped her bag, reading the note.

Your smile last time was so lovely, I just had to see it again. Thank you for making this early class a pleasure.

Rose looked around the classroom, hoping to see someone watching her. Again, it looked like everyone was going about their business and she was forgotten. She sank down into her chair, feeling lighter than air, and did her best to pay attention to the lecture. Between the rose and her typical wayward thoughts about her lecturer, it wasn’t easy to concentrate.

The following Tuesday, at her next class, there was another rose. The note this time simply said, You’re beautiful, but even just those two words made her feel like she was dancing on sunshine.

Nine more classes came and went, as did nine more pink and yellow roses in green paper with pink bows. Rose kept the notes handy so she could look at them any time she needed a lift. All of them were sweet, some of them encouraging, and each one made her feel like she was glowing inside.

At night, when she crawled into bed and tiredness made her mind more likely to wander, she let herself entertain the little fantasy that her secret crush and her admirer were one and the same - then she would scoff to herself and roll over. It was highly unlikely that the Doctor, of all people, would harbor feelings for her. He likely didn’t even know her name. To him, she was just a face in the crowd, just another student. Besides that, a man that handsome and intelligent was bound to be taken. She was being foolish, daydreaming about him and his long fingers and his soft brogue.

Still, she dreamed about him bearing pink and yellow roses and baring his soul.

After over a month of receiving flowers and notes, Rose felt a bit stymied by the fact that her admirer could give her a gift and send her a note, but she couldn’t do the same for him (or her). In a burst of inspiration, towards the end of class, she jotted a note down.

Will I ever get to meet you? ~R

She folded the note in half and left it on her desk when the Doctor dismissed class before she could lose her nerve. When she got to the door, she turned to try to see if anyone had grabbed the note, but there were too many people milling around and she couldn’t tell. Suddenly embarrassed, she ducked her head and went home. Maybe trying to reply was stupid. Maybe the wrong person had found the note, some other student who had tossed it in the bin. She was being daft and she knew it.

The next class, the rose was waiting on her desk. Rose took her seat and opened the note eagerly - even though her stomach felt a little queasy - reading the now-familiar handwriting.

I’m afraid I’m not your type of bloke, although I’d love to be.

A man, then. One of her peers. Rose pondered her answer, glancing over the blokes in her class, trying to figure out who would think he wasn’t her type. After considering her response carefully, she wrote her reply note and left it on her desk.

Maybe, maybe not. Let me be the judge of that. I’d at least like to thank the person who’s made me smile every Tuesday and Thursday morning. Do I know you? ~R

That Thursday, Rose opened the note and read, No, but you know of me. You’d recognize my face, but we’ve never spoken.

At the end of class, she’d composed another note. I think we should remedy that. Can I buy you a coffee? ~R

The next few days were interminable. She spent the whole weekend debating whether or not she’d done the right thing, and what she’d do if he actually took her up on her offer. There were only a couple of weeks left in the semester and she was dreading it. For one thing, she’d no longer have the Doctor to ogle and daydream about every Tuesday and Thursday. She was dreading leaving his company, even if he didn’t even know her name. Also, with the end of the semester came the end of the flirtation she’d been enjoying. She very much wanted to know who her admirer was. But had she been too forward?

On Tuesday another rose greeted her, along with another note.

I’d love nothing more than to get to know you better, Rose Tyler. But I’m afraid.

Of what? ~R

Her answer was waiting for her on Thursday. Afraid I’ll disappoint you. I’m no pretty boy.

Rose wrote that day’s note right away, without pondering as she usually did. I’m a bit hurt that you think me so shallow. In my three years at uni, I’ve only really been interested in one bloke, and he’s not at all what you would call a ‘pretty boy’. ~R

The following Tuesday, the note read, I certainly don’t think you’re shallow. It’s my own insecurity.

Please don’t feel that way. Can we meet? Final is next Thursday. Maybe we could study together? ~R

If we’re to do this, I think it would be best to wait until after the module has ended. That way, neither of us gets (any more) distracted. Is that alright?

Rose huffed in frustration, then wrote back. Yes, that’s probably wise, although very frustrating. I’m impatient. Can we meet Thursday night, after the final? ~R

On Tuesday, the day of exam prep, she got his reply attached to the pink and yellow rose. Yes. Let’s meet for coffee, as you suggested. I’ll be at the Bad Wolf Tea Shoppe at 8pm. You’ll know me because I’ll have Thursday’s rose with me. After you meet me, if you want, we can go stargazing.

She bit her lip and wrote out her response. I’m sure I’ll want to. Can’t wait to meet you. ~R

Thursday morning, when she came in for the exam, there was simply a note there, no rose. She opened it as she took her seat. Good luck on the exam. See you tonight. x

“See you tonight,” she whispered to the room at large, biting her lip on a smile, then pulling her head out of the clouds to focus on her last class with the Doctor and the final exam.

@}-->--------

9 May 2019

Rose dressed with great care that night to go see her admirer, not wanting to overdress, but wanting to look better than she usually did during class. She finally decided that she’d stick out if she were to wear something fancy, so she settled on skinny jeans with a flowy blouse, her prettiest casual outfit. Her flatmate, Amy, lent her a necklace to match and she felt as pretty as she ever did.

Her nerves were a riot as she made her way to the little tea shoppe, and she did her best to brace herself for what she may find when she got there. There had been almost sixty blokes in her astronomy module, so she had a hard time narrowing it down. She knew who she’d like it to be, of course, but that wasn’t realistic or possible and she pushed the thought out of her head. Whoever this person was, she was grateful to them and was looking forward to spending an evening getting to know them. It couldn’t possibly be the Doctor, that was absurd, but whoever it was was obviously a nice person who’d made her semester brighter.

Blimey, she was nervous.

When she stepped into the Bad Wolf, feeling as if she were about to jump out of her skin, she was surprised to see the Doctor sitting there, as if he’d manifested himself directly from her daydream. His tall, lanky frame was folded into a chair at a table and his sharp features wore an expression she’d never seen before. He looked… tense. Anxious. The low light of the tea shoppe glinted off his dark-rimmed glasses and he mussed his wavy hair when he ran his fingers through it. It was terribly endearing and she bit her lip, feeling a flare of wild hope just from his presence.

He caught sight of her as the door closed, and she couldn’t help but smile back when he smiled at her. It faded a bit when she noticed he didn’t have a pink and yellow rose, but she did her best to shrug that off. She’d known it wasn’t him, and hoping it would be was ridiculous.

Quickly, she glanced around the tea shoppe and didn’t see any other familiar faces, nor anyone with a rose. She checked her watch - she was right on time. Perhaps he was late.

“Miss Tyler,” the Doctor said, greeting her - and taking her completely off guard. She’d had no idea he knew her name. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Hello, Dr. Docherty,” she started, approaching his table.

“Now, enough with that. You’re not in my module anymore, feel free to call me Ian.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest like a butterfly batting against a cage. “Thank you, that’s very kind, although I’ll likely forget and refer to you as the Doctor.”

“Whatever you want to call me is fine.”

She stood awkwardly beside the table, wanting to sit, wanting to flee, having no idea what to do. Deciding she wanted to prolong the joy of talking to him just a bit longer, she asked, “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Ah, in a manner of speaking,” he said, blushing a little, and she tamped down the stab of jealousy that brought on.

“Ah. Well. I’ll leave you be, then. It was—”

“No!” he interrupted her, holding out a hand as if to stop her. Then he seemed to catch himself and withdrew. “I mean, no, you don’t have to leave. Sit, have a coffee. We can chat, if you like.”

Oh, Rose liked. She liked very much. Without allowing herself to think about it too much and trying very hard not to flush, she nodded and pulled out the chair across from him, taking a seat. As much as this moment was a daydream come true, she vowed to excuse herself if she saw a gentleman come in with a pink and yellow rose. She wanted to honor the ‘date’ she’d made for tonight.

“Who are you meeting?” she asked to break the ice. Before she could think better of it, she went on. “Wife? Girlfriend?”

His eyes widened a fraction, then he chuckled and looked away. “No, no, nothing like that. Don’t have one of those.”

It was Rose’s turn for widened eyes. She’d just assumed that a man as handsome as him would at least have a girlfriend, if not a wife. Suddenly, being stood up by her admirer didn’t seem like such a terrible fate.

“How about you?” he asked after the waitress took Rose’s order. “Here to see a boyfriend?”

“Um, no, not really,” she hedged, not really sure how to proceed - or if she even wanted to.

Dr. Docherty raised one eyebrow. “Not really? Yes or no questions tend to have more definitive answers,” he teased.

Rose felt herself flushing again. “I know. Sorry for being vague. It’s a long story, I suppose. I don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t for several years, since before I started uni. But…” She hesitated for a moment, picking at her nails. “There was a bloke. In your astronomy class, actually. He left me a rose on my desk every morning.”

“Ah, yes. I remember seeing the flowers. You’re here for a date with him?”

“Kind of. I don’t know who he is. Sort of a ‘secret admirer’ situation, I suppose. I asked if I could meet him so I could thank him for making me smile this semester.”

“I’m quite sure your smiles were thanks enough,” the Doctor said, eyes twinkling behind his specs.

“Maybe he might think so, but I’d still like to thank him in person. Seems the least I could do.”

There was a silence at the table, then the Doctor broke it. “I don’t see you in any of my other classes, so I assume you’re not an astronomy major.”

Rose laughed. “No, I’m nowhere near clever enough to major in astronomy. I took the class as an elective because I’ve always enjoyed space, but my major is art.”

“Art?” he asked, looking intrigued. “Are you any good?”

She shrugged shyly. “I don’t think so, but I get good marks. I’m hoping to work as a curator - I don’t believe I have the chops to make it as an artist.”

“I’m sure you’re brilliant,” he assured her, and Rose glanced up at him. He looked genuine, even eager. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”

Rose felt a smile blooming across her face. “I’d like to show you sometime. Some of my work this past semester has been inspired by your class, actually.”

“Well, then, I should buy it and display it,” he said with a little note of finality, as if the matter was settled.

“You can have it,” Rose told him quickly, then blushed again. “I mean, I’d like for you to have it.”

He looked a little stunned. “I’ll treasure it always.”

She was sure her face was on fire and glanced down at her coffee.

“When do you graduate?” he asked, clearing his throat and changing the subject.

“December,” she told him. “I’m taking a module during summer term, and then I’ll have three in the autumn. With any luck, I’ll get my first.”

“Well, my class won’t be a hindrance to your first,” he informed her, smiling. “You passed, with flying colors.”

“Really?” she squealed, excited. Her marks had been good, but there was always that nagging worry.

“Really. Better than several of my astronomy majors, in fact.”

Rose let out an excited giggle. The Doctor’s face was more relaxed than it had been all night and she thought him even more handsome than she ever had before. Which was saying something.

The waitress returned with Rose’s drink, then she and the Doctor talked for hours, chatting and laughing about all manner of subjects, getting to know one another better. Spending time with him was so comfortable, so easy, that she nearly forgot all about her admirer - and that was alright. She was entirely too happy in the moment to waste time thinking about anyone else. More than once, their hands brushed against each other at the small table and every time they did, Rose swore she could feel a jolt of electricity shoot straight up her arm. She’d thought she was wild about him before, but that was before she’d spent the evening looking into his blue-green eyes, talking about nothing and everything.

It was a surprise when the waitress came to the table and informed them that the Bad Wolf would be closing in fifteen minutes.

“Blimey,” she marveled. “It’s nearly eleven. We’ve been here three hours! Time got away from me.”

“Your date never showed up,” Ian observed, watching her carefully.

She shrugged. “He must have gotten cold feet or something. But that’s alright. I had a lovely time chatting with you.”

“Oh?”

Her face glowed, but she nodded. “I did. I’d - I’d like to do it again sometime.”

The Doctor looked a little surprised, but terribly pleased. “I’d like that.”

They settled the check quickly and Rose was delighted when he offered his elbow. She slipped her hand into it, smiling up at him, radiantly happy, and they stepped out onto the pavement.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, I suppose I’m just going to call it a night.”

“We could walk a while, if you like,” he offered, “and then I’ll walk you home. It’s a lovely night. Shame to waste it.”

She nearly melted into a puddle. “I’d love that.”

They walked all over the city, and after about an hour, when they were at a zebra crossing, the Doctor reached down and took Rose’s hand. She laced her fingers with his and laid her head over on his shoulder. She couldn’t be sure, but she swore she felt his lips press against the top of her head. Rose was grateful he was holding her hand, otherwise she might have floated away.

After a little while longer, they had circled back to where they started. Both had lost track of the time and Rose was surprised when she realized it was almost two am.

Ian pointed out a boxy SUV at the end of the block the tea shoppe was located on.

“That’s my car,” he told her.

“Oh,” Rose said, thinking he meant to call an end to their night. “It’s very nice.”

“I’d still like to walk you home, but there’s something I’d like to grab, if you don’t mind.”

With any other bloke, Rose would assume he was speaking about condoms and thought that walking her home meant she would be sleeping with him. But that didn’t seem right… he’d been an absolute gentleman all night. Surely he didn’t…

Confused, Rose nodded and said, “Alright.”

Ian raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers, then let go with a “Be right back.” He jogged the last few feet to his car, unlocked it, and leaned inside. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he stood back up, he shuffled something behind his back. He locked the door and walked back to Rose. She watched him curiously.

“What are you up to?” she asked when he got close.

He was shifty, not meeting her eye, shuffling from foot to foot, one hand still behind his back. Rose’s curiosity grew.

“Are you alright?”

“I told myself this was stupid, that you wouldn’t appreciate it, but I --” He paused. “I picked these up for you before I got to the tea shoppe. Maybe I’m a fool, but… I want you to have them.”

He brought his hand out from behind his back and Rose was floored to see that he held a large bouquet of pink and yellow roses - at least two dozen. The flowers were wrapped in green florists’ paper and there was a pink bow tied around them. She was shocked into silence, with absolutely no idea what to say. Dumbly, she looked up at Ian. His face was guarded, his entire body tense.

“They’re from you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“All this term...?”

“All from me. I wanted… At first, I just wanted to see you smile. You should smile all the time, Rose. I love to see you happy. But then you asked to meet and the desire to get to know you was nearly overwhelming. I just… I never believed in ‘first sight’ until you came along. But I felt something the first moment you walked into my class, and --”

He was cut off when Rose threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his, kissing him firmly. In the space of two heartbeats, his arms had gone around her, still clutching the roses, and he was returning her kiss, sliding his lips across hers, making her knees absolutely weak. He nibbled at her lower lip and she opened for him, accepting the gentle invasion of his tongue, carding her fingers through his hair. With every moment that passed, she melted further into his embrace until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.

Seconds or hours later, he pulled back, pressing little kisses to her lips, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. Rose smiled under the attention.

“I can’t believe it was you,” she marveled in a quiet voice.

“Disappointed?”

She shook her head. “No. An absolute dream come true. I’ve been that pathetic girl with a crush on her lecturer all semester. I just figured you didn’t notice me.”

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” he said in a low, rumbling voice, his accent rolling over her name and making her feel all wibbly. “I noticed you. I’m sorry we didn’t go stargazing tonight. Perhaps another time.”

“Oh, I very much hope so.”

Before she could blink, he was kissing her again, his lips opening and closing on hers. He only pulled away long enough to tilt his head and come at her from another angle, and the teasing movements left her wanting more, desperate for more of his touch, dying to feel him closer.

“So what now?” she asked when he backed away again, breathless, looking up into his eyes.

“Now I walk you home safely, kiss you goodnight, and try to convince you to let me see you again sometime.”

Her tongue went to the corner of her mouth. “You don't have to convince me. I want to see you as much as possible.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

Rose giggled, then gazed up at him. “Thank you.”

“For what, sweetheart?”

“Making me smile.”

“You’re welcome. I hope to do that quite a bit more in coming days.”

She was absolutely certain he would.

[lils-writes]

Passion Fruit

I wish I could do every prompt for @adrinetteapril, but I’m kinda stuck with college projects and other things. But! I did do at least one, so that’s good! Here’s my take of day 7 - Sweet Tooth. Enjoy~~

Also, here’s the AO3 link!!!

If there was one activity that Marinette loved, it had to be baking. Ever since she was a little girl, she loved the mixing, the pouring, the tasting. Maybe it was because she was the daughter of bakers, maybe it was because she loved sweets, but Marinette simply adored baking. It was relaxing and it gave her an excuse to spoil her friends.

Today was no different. Like every Sunday morning, she helped her parents bake the sweets for their bakery. There was always a line for cookies, macarons, tarts, cakes, and other sweet treats. The Dupain-Cheng bakery was always buzzing with happy customers. Marinette greeted, seated and served the people of Paris with a smile. She liked helping her parents. She liked talking to everyone.

At around 3, the bakery finally began to clear out. A few people came in, getting a coffee and a croissant, but it was overall empty, giving the girl a chance to catch her breath. And she most definitely needed that half a second to recompose herself, as the door chimed for another customer, announcing the arrival of Adrien Agreste, the Adrien Agreste. Surprisingly, he was alone, no bodyguard, no friends. It was just him and himself.

“Hello, Marinette! I was wondering if you had any croissants left?”

“A-Adrien!” Marinette took a deep breath. ‘Calm down, just talk to him like a normal person,’ she told herself. “We don't have any fresh ones, but if you have a few minutes to wait, you can come upstairs and have one fresh out of the oven. Of course,” Marinette grinned a sheepish grin, “if you want!”

Adrien thought about it for a moment, glancing back towards the glass door, before nodding vigorously. “Of course. I’m sure my dad won't mind me coming home a few minutes later.”

Both teenagers ran up to where the Dupain-Chengs lived, crashing down in the kitchen. Marinette’s father glanced at the two, shooting them a questioning look, before sighing. Their smiles spoke a million words, to which Mr. Dupain simply shook his head, also smiling. He knew how much Adrien loved the bakery goods. He also knew that the boy didn't often get a chance to snack of the goods, given his strict diet. Marinette had already explained in details how Mr. Agreste needed to know everything that his son ate, making sure he stayed properly nourished. The model didn't need the extra calories a croissant would give him.

“The croissants won't be ready for another half hour, kids. We do, however, have other sweets if you like.”

Marinette turned to the counter to where a tray of macarons sat. They formed a gorgeous rainbow. Red strawberry, pink raspberry, orange citrus, yellow lemon, green matcha, blue blueberry, indigo passion fruit and violet cassis flavored macarons colored the room, catching the eye of both teenagers. Adrien hesitated a moment, but as Marinette got up and walked towards the sweets, he jumped off his stool, happily making his way towards his friend. Instinctively, he picked up an indigo one and brought it to his mouth. It melted, as did he.

“These are my favorites, you know?”

“I know.” Adrien shot Marinette a confused look. “I mean, oh really? I think you’ve told me once before, though. That’s how I know.”

Adrien simply shrugged, biting into another macaron. It made sense, given that he sure did love expressing his love for passion fruit macarons. There was no use keeping that information to himself. He most definitely liked reminding Natalie in hopes of getting okay to bite into a sweet fruity treat. It didn't often work, but when it did, Adrien was jumping with joy. “I would love to be able to make these. If I knew how to make them, I wouldn't have to keep asking people to sneak me some.” Adrien slumped his shoulders, sighing. “But I’m sure they’re really hard to make, though.”

“Not really. We can make some together if you want.”

The blond turned to Marinette, unsure how to answer. The girl simply grinned, a raspberry treat between her teeth. She pointed to the ingredients still sitting on the counter. There were all sorts of bags lying around, all containing ingredients that Adrien didn't know the name of.

“I'm not sure I can-”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I’m sure you'll do amazing. You're amazing at everything, afterall.”

Marinette winked at the blond before making her way to the multiple ingredients. Adrien could feel a blush creep up the nape of his neck. He’d never had anyone wink at him like that. He especially never had Marinette wink at him, Marinette who was always so shy around him. But, who was he to deny the offer of a free baking lesson?

“Alright, first step: we mix the almond flour, the powdered sugar and a bit of salt. The salt,” Marinette clarified, “is to make the taste really pop. But you don't want to put a lot, or it won't be good. This much will be enough.”

Adrien stared at her as she poured the first ingredient into a big bowl. It was fascinating, really. It seemed so effortless, something he probably would never be able to achieve in his lifetime. At least, that’s what he thought until this moment where Marinette handed him a measuring cup, asking him to go scoop up a cup of almond flour. The boy’s relaxed face suddenly tensed up before putting on his best serious face. He held the metal utensil up as if it were a prized possession, a weapon, the key to unlocking the valuable of life.

“This is the moment of truth, Agreste. This is the moment where you know you can be helpful or not.” Adrien took a deep breath before marching towards the bag of flour as Marinette giggled at his ridiculousness. She stirred the powders together as Adrien poured slowly, making sure nothing went floating away. They made a good team.

“Next step is to whip the egg whites. If you could help me break some eggs, that would be very helpful.”

Adrien was eager to help. He followed every direction, separating the egg whites from the yolks. He did like Marinette, yet she made it seem so much easier than it really was. Never did she break the yolk, drop it, let it slip between her fingers or fall out of the eggshell. Adrien had to try over and over again, go slowly, while Marinette did it as if it were the easiest thing in this world. Yet, the boy never gave up, always cheered up by Marinette’s kind words. She was the best.

When they finished that, they moved on to the next step. Adrien added a few drops of vanilla and of food coloring, making the eggs a beautiful indigo color. He was quite proud of his little contribution, getting a few more encouragements from his friend’s behalf. Then, he slowly added the mixed powders to the egg mix, all while Marinette mixed, turning the fluffy egg white over and over again, blending in the flour.

As Adrien got to half of the powder mix, Marinette stopped, handing him the spatula had been using. Confused, Adrien took it, unsure as to what she was expecting from him. She was just smiling, stepping away from their half finished creation. Carefully, she placed her hand over Adrien’s guiding him towards the bowl. Together, they stirred the fluff around. Then, Adrien was doing it alone. He was stirring at a constant pace as Marinette added the rest of the flour. For once, Adrien felt like he was doing something right.

Together, they made it to the end of the recipe: they made the passion fruit buttercream, baked the macarons, filled them with said buttercream and put them to rest. Adrien had to resist not biting into one immediately. He didn't want to be scolded by Marinette who had already warned him that they would only be truly ready 24 hours later. At least she was kind enough to pack up a few of the already made ones for him, handing him the cute little paper bag.

“I’ll bring these to you tomorrow, promise. And I hope we’ll get to bake together again some time,” Marinette beamed, walking Adrien to the door. It was getting late, and his father was probably wondering where his son was. Natalie had tried calling him on multiple occasions, but Adrien simply ignored her. But he had to get home now, before a police search was signaled. He rather not get in trouble.

Adrien smiled at Marinette, holding the baggie to his chest. “Most definitely! I had a lot of fun today! Thank you. I never baked before, so this was a wonderful experience.”

Adrien gasped as Marinette pulled him in a hug. He most definitely was not used to this kind of contact. But he let himself be tempted, hugging the girl back. It was warm. It was comfortable. It was everything Adrien had ever craved. It was so innocent, yet intimate. When was the last time someone had hugged him?

Marinette buried her nose in Adrien’s shoulder, still holding him close. “You can come back anytime you want. We can make passion fruit macarons whenever you want. Or any other sweet treat you like, for that matter.” Those were the last words she whispered into his shirt before letting him go and waving his good bye as the boy made his way out. Both were already excited for their next baking session.

[denbeyondthewall]

Day Twelve

Gendry and Arya are tricked by the other Stark siblings into going under the mistletoe.

Arya’s skin was tanned from the Braavosi sun, she had been studying mathematics at the University of Braavos. Growing up, she had always dreamed of going to the University of Winterfell, like her father and her elder brothers, Robb and Jon. However, her fencing coach Jorah Moormont convinced her to apply and to see what could happen, there was no harm in applying. He had even trained there himself, but decided not to go pro after a shoulder injury. But then she got a full-ride scholarship and it was impossible for her to say no. She’d be in the warm, Braavosi sun all day, learn a new language, get to explore Essos, and not give up fencing, something her mother always pursed her lips at.  She couldn’t stop beaming about it for weeks, her excitement was plastered on her face. That was until she told Gendry of her plans.

“You’re really going?” he croaked, unable to look at her, his hands played with his hair, nervously twisting each short strand.

“I’ll call and text you all the time, it’s not like Braavos doesn’t have service,” she reasoned, laying her head on Gendry’s chest. Things had gotten much more familiar for them lately, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Gendry was her best friend and she could definitely see herself with him, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it once or twice. But he was Gendry, the boy she met when she was eleven years old and he had moved to Winterfell from King’s Landing after his mom died, and he came over to her house with Jon and Robb. They immediately became friends, because with Jon and Robb, Arya always followed. He was her best friend, she didn’t want to ruin it, and for what, a hunch that he may like her that way. It was more likely that he pitied her and simply saw her as a little sister.

“It won’t be the same, Arya.” He stroked her hair, and placed a small kiss on the top of her head, “But I’m happy, you’ll be happy.”

She pulled her hair behind her  shoulder, gathering it all to one side, letting the long, dark brown curls fall. It had grown much longer since she left Winterfell in June, then it had only just grazed her shoulders, now it cascaded down her back.  It was unmanageable most of the times, frizzing out whenever she dared to take a brush to it, so she usually pulled it up into a messy bun. It had distinct highlights from the Braavosi sun, particularly around her face, adding dimension and shine.

“Arya,” Ned called, bringing her attention back to their family breakfast. She was still a bit jet lagged, so she ate her pancakes at a monotonous pace. She took a bite of her scrambled eggs, and pursed her lips slightly as they were lacking salt.

 “What did you say?”  she looked at him as she put in their piece of food in her mouth.

“How was your flight, not too much turbulence right?”  he asked, taking a sip of coffee from his world’s best dad mug, a gift from Sansa for Father’s Day a few years back.

“None at all.”

“Good, I know how much you hate it,” he smiled at her.

“How’s Braavos been?” Her mother inquired, her waist-length red hair was piled on top of her head in a bun, and her usually made up face was clean of makeup.

“It’s been good,” she answered abruptly.

“Your classes are okay? Didn’t you say your economics professor was a bit difficult?”

“She was challenging.”

“You nicknamed her ‘the waif,” Rickon interjected, his red curls were still unruly as ever, it surprised Arya that her mother hadn’t made him get a haircut.

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m sure you did well, darling,” Cat added, “That was your last final before you flew home right?”

“Mhmm,” Arya agreed, “I think I’ll get my results by the end of the week.”

“Hopefully you didn’t do too well,” Bran jokes, “That way you’ll be forced to come home.”

“And trade the Braavosi sun for the blistering winter winds?” She laughed, “Wouldn’t ever dream of it.”

“Now, now,” Ned commanded the room with his strong voice, “We’re glad you’re here in for a little bit, especially for the holiday party.”

Oh the dreaded holiday party, the annual Stark tradtiion that usually left Arya groaning and searching for the nearest spiked eggnog curtesy of Theon.

“Oh yes,” Catelyn grinned, “If your final was one day later you would’ve missed it.”

“Damn,” Arya muttered under her breath.

“This year, even the Tyrell’s are attending,” Sansa exclaimed.

“Well, that may be because you’re dating their son,” Robb chimed in.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are you four?” Bran asked.

“No, they’re five,” Arya laughed.

Her younger brother gave her a knowing look, while the rest of the family finished their breakfast, ignoring Sansa and Robb’s spat.  She knew they all missed her and she felt the same about them too. But, here in Winterfell she was always a Stark first. People saw her as the governor’s daughter, then as Jon and Robb’s little sister, even as the less refined and less beautiful sister to Sansa. In Braavos, no one knew her as anything other than Arya. Wicked at math, fencing, and who could definitely hold her own in a drinking competition against the boys, but that talent she wouldn’t share with her more than conservative parents. They still thought arranged marriages weren’t the worst idea, seeing as they’d been in one, and noble blood in Westeros still had to remain pure, particularly for the Starks .

In Braavos she dated a bit, but nothing was ever serious. She was too focused on her studies, but that didn’t mean she and her friends didn’t go out together and find their way back to their dorms the next morning.

“Arya,” Sansa knocked on her door, “Are you getting ready for the Christmas party?”

The Starks were throwing their annual Christmas Party, which felt more like a ball to Arya. The highest members of society were invited and everyone dressed in black tie attire. It was professionally catered, decorated to the nines, and to anyone who came to see it, it felt like you were walking into a winter wonderland filled with champagne, mistletoes, and cheesy Christmas music. Arya was never one for parties or dresses or presenting herself to society, so to say she wasn’t too keen for the party would be an understatement.  

Sansa knocked again before Arya groaned and reluctantly got up to answer her sister’s obnoxious pleas.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Arya,” her elder sister exclaimed, “You’re not even showered!” The redhead had her hair French braided and tied into a fancy up-do on top of her head while she was wearing an emerald green, floor-length strapless gown with a bit of ruching detailing along the bust. Her makeup was delicate, with a soft peach lip and blush to match accompanied with a simple winged eye-liner and cut-crease eyeshadow. Arya could hear the tapping of her four-inch heels, making Sansa even taller than most models through her door.

“I’m showered,” she argued.

“Sure,” her elder sister rolled her eyes, “Hop to it,” she pushed her younger sister into her bathroom, “I’m not leaving until you’re ready, we have less than an hour.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Might as well be,” Sansa quipped, “Mother’s getting the last details arranged and she’s already greeting guests, who actually shows up early to an event like this.”

“The Lannisters,” Arya jokes.

“How’d you know it was them?”

“Just a stab in the dark,” she called as she stepped into the scorching hot shower. Its water felt like heaven against her back and on her scars. Fencing in Braavos was much more of a contact sport than it was in Winterfell and she had multiple cuts, scrapes, and bruises all over her arms, back, and legs from her intensive training at the House of Black and White, the local fencing gym. It was world-renowned and had produced fencing legends like Syrio Forel and Jaqen H'ghar. Both of whom had trained her and were her mentors, they truly believed she could become a professional, only if she quit school and dedicated her entire life to fencing.

She clicked off the water and before she could even wrap a towel around her body her elder sister was calling from her bedroom, “Mother picked your dress out for you, I laid it out on your bed. Osha should be in, in a few minutes to do your hair and makeup.”

Arya opened the bathroom door and saw the midnight blue, strapless gown her mother had selected. It wasn’t the worst in the world, and if she had to pick a dress, this one would probably be at the top of the list.

“Arya,” Sansa urged, “I know this isn’t your thing, and that you hate these high society events, but please,” she begged, “Can we have fun. I even had mother invite Gendry for you.”

Arya blushed immediately.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sansa gave her a knowing smirk, “I’ve got to do the finishing touches on my hair.”

Arya stepped into the dress and zipped it up, but was struggling a bit, “Here let me get that for you Miss Arya,” Osha, her mother’s makeup artist of over twenty years offerred.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s just Arya,” she laughed.

“Come here.” Osha engulfed her in a huge bear hug, “It’s been forever, little Arya. It only seems like yesterday I was getting you ready for your first Winter Ball.”

Arya gave a small smile.

“Oh come on dear, it’s not nearly as bad as you think, plus you look marvelous. Finally let your hair grow past your shoulders, I think I can actually braid it this year.”

“It’ll take a miracle to make it look as refined as Sansa’s.”

“Well good thing I’m a miracle worker.” She took the two-inch barrel curling iron to Arya’s long chestnut colored locks and made thick, bouncy curls that flowed down her back. She tied the front section in a half-up half down style braid, leaving the rest of the curls loose. Finishing off the style with a simple blue-rose pin, placed directly in the center of her hair. Arya looked at herself in the mirror and gasped.

“A blue winter rose,” Osha smiled.

“A blue winter rose, indeed,” Jon agreed.

“Jon!” Arya burst out of the chair, barely missing the hot curling iron as she clobered him with a giant bear hug.

“Hello to you too,” he said.

“I didn’t think you were coming, Robb said you couldn’t get leave.”

“Told you she’d buy it,” Robb appeared in the doorway with Theon.

“You clean up pretty well, little wolf,” Theon acknowledged.

“Thanks, Theon.”

“He’s right,” her elder brothers agreed, “Four-months in Braavos and you’ve come back a whole new person.”

“Oh shut-up,” she smacked Robb’s shoulder.

“You ready?” Jon extended his arm to her.

“As I’ll ever be.”

The party was in full swing, the Tyrells, Targaryens, and Baratheons were in attendance. Robb was dancing with his girlfriend Jeyne, while Jon was desperately flirting with Daenerys Targaryen, and Theon was trying to tell a crude joke to every single server at the party.

“Guys,” Sansa gathered her elder brothers and Theon, “Is Gendry here yet.”

“He texted that he’s on his way, work went a bit late,” Jon answered.

“Good, there’s a mistletoe right at the entrance, we have to get him and Arya there.”

“What, why?” Robb asked shocked.

Sansa smacked him, “Why do I keep getting smacked,” he whined.

“Because you’re stupid,” Sansa answered.

“Yeah, even I know Red’s plan.”

“Well, would someone please catch me up.”

“We need to get Arya and Gendry under the mistletoe.”

“So they can what?”

“Robb Stark, I cannot believe you’re the heir to the Winterfell fortune,” Theon groaned.

“We’re all equal heirs, it isn’t medieval times.”

“Besides the point,” Sansa rolled her eyes.

“Genry like Arya and Arya likes Gendry, there, now I’ve said it so can we please get a move on,” Jon said.

“She what? He does? How? No. You’re kidding.”

Gendry had been shown into the party by the Stark’s main steward, Jory Cassel and he felt so out of place. He had his best suit on and a gift for the hosts tucked under his arm. He hoped he wouldn’t have to see his father, they had never been on the best of terms, but he didn’t doubt he was here.

“Okay,” he said to himself, “Just find Jon and Robb and you’ll be fine.”

“Still talking to yourself,” a familiar voice called behind him.

He turned around to see Arya wearing a dress, a sight he’d never thought he’d see, even at all the previous Christmas parties she managed to wear black jeans and claim it was black tie. Her hair was curled perfectly and she had a small amount of makeup on, making her look ethereal.

“Hi,” he croaked out.

“Hi,” she responded, shyly looking at the floor.

“How’s Braavos been?”

“Good. Warm.”

“That’s good.”

“And the shop?”

“The same, pretty busy.”

“I missed you,” they both said at the same time.”

“Ditto,” she laughed.

“You look really good.”

“Thanks, so do you.”

“You know,” he teased, “I think we’re under a mistletoe.”

“I’d say we are.”

He leaned in for a kiss and she reached up as well.

“See,” Sansa said, “We didn’t even need to trick them.”

“What?” Arya broke her kiss, “Why I oughta.”

“Arya,” Gendry said, gently grabbing her face, “We’ll get them back later.” And he reached in to kiss her again.

[letholojimin]

Redamancy (JHS ft. KNJ)

MASTERLIST

- reposted because i accidentally deleted the original post dated march 2018

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader ft. Kim Namjoon

Themes: best friend + roommate au

Genre: angst, mild smut!!!

Word Count: 4,115

Summary: With your love life failing at every attempt of yours, you fail to realize that you’ve been looking for it in all the wrong places.

“I will treat you better than anyone else. I will treat you how you deserve to be treated, but all I need is a chance, Y/N…”

SMUT WARNING

Rays of light from the sun shine in from the coffee shop’s glass window beside you and you keep yourself occupied by drinking from the warm beverage you had purchased to keep you company as you wait for Jennie to arrive. She had texted you an hour prior to the present, informing you that she had something she wanted to tell you. Luckily, you had both been in the university during that time and would be free during this time so you wait for her, scrolling through your phone.

It’s winter- the season of loneliness and though that never really bothered you to an extreme extent, you know that you would prefer to stop spending the cold nights alone. You had gone through a certain number of boyfriends and flings- none of which ever lasted. It was always a problem with your schedule that caused your break-ups, all of them complaining that you weren’t as invested in the relationship as they were because you were too busy attending to the things you had to do.

You never kept them around or wanted them back if they said that because if they couldn’t understand that you have other commitments as a university student with a hectic life, then you couldn’t be with them because it would be irrational for them to think that you’d give up your own life just to be with them. Sure, at times you’d cry over some people if you really did like them but sometimes relationships ended just as soon as they would start and you wouldn’t be that attached.

The chime of the coffee shop’s door distracts you from your thoughts and you see the girl you’re waiting for, her brown hair tucked into a beanie and her hands taking her gloves off. Jennie spots you and smiles, pointing to the counter to inform you that she’ll be with you shortly as she’d like to order something first. You nod and wait, nothing else occupying your mind after that.

Jennie takes a seat in front of you taking a long sip of her drink before placing it down on the table in front of you both. “Hey,” you greet. “What’s up?”

“I’m just going to go straight to the point here because I know that you probably have something to get to in at least the next thirty minutes.” She starts and you grin because she knows you too well. Your organization had a meeting twenty minutes from now so you were glad that she knew better than to be slow. “I know this guy, and he’s probably your type.” She continues, telling you that he’s much more mature than any of your previous significant others. He’s a hardworking student just like you and so since both of you understand the pressure of intense schedules, maybe you’ll balance each other more than you’ll clash.

You lean forward and raise an eyebrow, urging her to continue. You haven’t even dated in a while so a date doesn’t exactly sound that bad. Jennie briefs you on his name and tells you that he’s in the same year and that he’s an Engineering major. Jennie knows him because of a mutual friend who informed her that he’s looking to date and when her friend told him all about what he’s like, she thought you might like him.

The quick meet-up ends with Jennie giving you his number and telling you that he already has yours. You should expect a text from him soon.

Jennie’s Recommended Mystery boy - 3:47 pm

Y/N, right?

Y/N Y/L/N - 3:50 pm

That’s me.

Jennie’s Recommended Mystery boy - 3:52 pm

Hey there. My name’s Namjoon.

Y/N Y/L/N - 3:53 pm

Hi :) You’re Jennie’s friend right?

Namjoon - 3:53 pm

Yeah, a friend gave me your number :)

Namjoon - 3:54 pm

I actually know a place that serves really great pasta, maybe you’d like to head there with me sometime?

Y/N Y/L/N - 3:57 pm

Sure, why not?

Namjoon - 3:58 pm

Great! How’s tomorrow night?

Y/N Y/L/N - 4:00 pm

I’m free from seven onwards, so I don’t see why not :)

Namjoon - 4:02 pm

Send me your address, then? I’ll pick you up then. Dress fancy :)

The meeting for the organization passes by quicker than expected and your classes end at five o’ clock, leaving you room to drive home during the rush hour. You live nearby the campus so traffic is the least of your worries but you’re so eager to shower and change into more comfortable clothes. That’s probably a downside of college- you’ve always got to wear something different so since you’ve run out of clothes, you’re facing more uncomfortable fabric.

If there’s one positive thing about being in university, it’s the fact that you get to live with Jung Hoseok- your best friend from high school. He’s a constant beam of light in your life, always taking care of you and helping you however he can.

Both of you live under the same roof in a relatively large apartment funded by both of your parents who tell you to simply focus on being students for the meantime, and so the two of you are always working so hard in university. His course is no joke and with the addition of dance on the side, he’s left mentally and physically tired everyday but he never fails to maintain communication with you and make you smile. Needless to say, with the amount of support your parents give you, both of you are afraid of failure. You and Hoseok are perfectionists, but when everything is too much for each other you’re always there as a support system.

When you get home after all your obligations that night, you and Hoseok share McDonald’s takeout over your kitchen table. It’s tradition to have dinner together at your shared place during the rare times you both get home early enough to have the meal together, so you always make the most out of it. Tonight, greasy fried food is on the menu.

Hoseok tells you about his day briefly, telling you that it’s just the same old- nothing new happened or nothing is interesting enough to be talked about. When it’s your turn to share, you get straight to the point and tell him about your scheduled date tomorrow.

“Do you know anyone named Namjoon?” You inquire. Maybe he’s met him, and if that happens you can hear about what he’s like. To your disappointment, he only shakes his head from side to side and asks why you’re asking then continues eating his meal, utensils clanking on the plate slightly as he cuts through his chicken.

“Well…” You begin, nonchalantly wiping off the salt on your fingers from the fries you’ve been eating as you continue. “Jennie set me up with him, and now I’ve got a date tomorrow night!”

Hoseok’s suddenly more invested in your conversation, eyes looking up to see you beaming- this was your first date in quite a while but instead of happiness for you, there’s a completely different feeling and he knows deep down why he’s not enjoying the news. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You fail to see how he doesn’t exactly want to hear more about this date of yours but he puts up with it, your cheery voice still not enough to distract him from the jeering thoughts and the uncomfortable swirl in his stomach.

Your chatter continues for only so long before your meals are finished and you dispose of your plastic waste quickly, not having to wash anything due to the containers. He’s quick to escape you, disappearing from your sight the moment he’s thrown the trash and you- you are ignorant.

With thoughts of you littering his head, he tries and tries to do anything and everything to get you out of his system. He can’t shake off the fact that he might lose you again for god knows how long, but he tries to think about how maybe you’ll be happier and maybe this boy will treat you better than all those you’ve met before. But Hoseok knows he’s lying to himself, because he can treat you better than anyone else.

That night, Hoseok doesn’t sleep.

You’re clad in a black dress which cinches at the waist and flares down up until your knees- a comfortable piece of clothing to make up for the painful thing on your feet. You endure it, pushing yourself to get through the night and you simply hope that Namjoon is tall, so that your heels won’t make him look shorter than you. You won’t mind if he is, but you also wouldn’t mind if he isn’t.

He texts you when he’s outside and you get up from your seat on the couch when Hoseok exits the kitchen, only looking you up and down before going back upstairs wordlessly. You don’t expect him to say anything so you grab your coat and open the door, coming face-to-face with a blond boy holding a bouquet of roses. Once he sees you, Namjoon quickly greets you politely and offers you the roses. You place the flowers on a table near the door and smile at him, murmuring a sweet ‘thank you’ and walking outside with him right beside you.

The boy sports a dress shirt and black slacks along with leather shoes, you notice. He stops in front of the passenger side of his car- a sleek black automobile- and opens the door for you. You blush lightly at the thoughtful gesture and step in, the smell of air freshener and leather entering your nostrils.

Namjoon rushes over to the driver’s side, lanky frame passing in front of the hood. You wonder just how the night will unfold, considering that so far, he seems to be a gentleman. Maybe this will be different from all your past dates. Hope is something you cling to because it’s the only you can grip and you tell yourself it’s possible for you to get something more than a disaster out of this.

Lips pressed on bare skin and hands are groping each other and you and Namjoon are slowly turning into (if you aren’t already) a sweaty mess of flesh and lust, actions driven by desire. You guys simply hit it off after a night of wine and Italian food at a fancy restaurant and now you were in his apartment, making out with each other.

He leads you to his room and soon enough, you’re lying underneath him naked and begging for more of his touch, for him to pleasure you. Namjoon’s fingers thrust into your heat at an increasing pace, digits slick with your juices.

Arousal drips from your center, and soon he’s getting a condom from his night stand and sliding on his length, turning your body around before placing his tip right by your entrance.

His fingers grip your hips tightly before he slides into you, your nimble fingers gripping his cotton sheets. Namjoon groans when you urge him to move, thrusting in and out of you rhythmically. It’s not long before you slam your hips against his with every movement of his, moaning and whining. You tell him to move faster, harder, and he complies.

Soon, you’re at your peak, body falling into the mattress. If not for his hands holding your sides upright, you would have fully collapsed. He rides out your high and chases his own, slamming against your spot relentlessly. He comes, spilling into the condom and you move away from him from overstimulation.

After disposing of the condom, he collapses beside you, breathing heavily. You don’t meet his eyes though, closing yours and pretending to fall asleep.

Namjoon might be a good fuck, but what you’re looking for is real love.

When your heels click into the living room, you’ll find that Hoseok is still up- he looks like he hasn’t slept at all and though it’s common for you to ask each other how a date has gone after going on one, you didn’t expect him to stay up this late. When you look at the clock, it’s just struck half past three o’clock in the morning and there’s an unsettling feeling of doing the walk of shame, regardless of if you’re facing your closest friend.

“Where have you been?” He asks, standing up from his seat on the couch and placing his mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of him. Hobi looks at you and only then do you realize that there are dark circles under his eyes- ones you fail to notice during the daytime wherein the sun shines too bright that everything else is simply cancelled out. Sometimes, the light is too blinding- and you’re a sucker for being blinded.

“Out. You know I was on a date, Hoseok.” You reply curtly, undoing the straps of your heels and neatly placing them near the door. Though you’d normally place your shoes in your room, you have an unnerving fear of tripping down the stairs wearing heels so you opt to keep them near the entrance. He was the one who suggested you do this, in fear that you’d be your usual clumsy self and that one day he wouldn’t be around to help you. It’s easier that way.

Though your best friend would normally dismiss you, it seems like he’s a bit more persistent this time. He stays, walking closer to you. “Do you know what time it is, Y/N?” His voice raises ever so slightly towards the end of his question and you can’t help but be a little taken aback at the unusual amount of concern he’s displaying. “Do you know how long I waited just for you to get home?”

“You don’t always have to wait for me, Hobi. I appreciate it but you don’t need to stay up for-“

“But I do!” He cuts you off and you’re rendered speechless. You’re in the dark- you have absolutely no idea where this is going and why this is happening in the first place. Hoseok’s voice only grows louder and more angered and though it’s probably a false notion- you’d think it’s pained.

“What…” You whisper under your breath, but you know he heard it. You look up to meet his eyes once more and you notice that he’s very near you now- near enough for you to see the details on his face: the curvature of his jaw, the slant of his eyes and the bridge of his nose. His eyes hold something mysterious, something you aren’t used to because as close friends, he tells you everything, no exceptions.

“Look, it’s late and we should both be getting to bed, don’t you think?” You remove the loose ponytail which your hair was stuck in, a practical style you’d gone for before you left his room tonight. “No, Y/N- I want you to stop going on those fucking dates, alright? None of them ever work for you anyway,”

If it wasn’t for the proximity you wouldn’t be able to hear the last part- but you did. It stung, and you didn’t get it- you don’t understand why he was saying that to you when he knew all too well that your love life is always a complicated mess from the busy schedule your practical life revolves around. You never have times for these kinds of things and now he’s telling you that he wants you to stop going on dates at all? Who does he think he is?

“What the fuck, Hoseok?! Who are you to tell me what to do? This isn’t even like you!” The rage in your voice becomes more and more prevalent with each word but his expression doesn’t falter. There’s a kind of fierceness in his disposition and it’s unnerving because you’ve never exactly seen him like this before about this kind of topic. “Are you telling me it’s a crime to fall in love?!”

“It’s a crime to fall in love if you’re not falling in love with me!”

You’re speechless at the words that escape his mouth, feet planted to the floor. You can’t move, you can barely think and from all the things you’ve ever heard in your entire life, you consider this to be the biggest surprise of them all. Hoseok doesn’t have any regrets- not even when he sees the flabbergasted expression on your face, not even when he sees your eyes growing wide because relief is a feeling that overpowers all of that. After all, he’s very much tired of hiding from you and running away from the truth himself.

“Hoseok, what are you saying?” You find yourself mustering up enough courage to finally say something, anything. “Why?!” His voice is stern, and melancholy is laced within the word. It’s almost like you can’t reach him anymore and you wonder just how fast everything went downhill. “Why do you wear all those ravishing clothes and dress up so well for guys who only want to dress you down?”

You never expected him to say something like that- never even expected him to comment on your dates gone one night stands but it’s different now, and you can tell that this pains him to say just as much as it keeps you at a loss for words. He’s finally burst, and you don’t know what to do or what to say because this has never happened before. “Hobi,” You exhale, treading on dangerous waters.

“I don’t get it, Y/N!” His hand raises to his hair in frustration and for a split second he turns away from you. “Why do you go out on these stupid dates so others will look at you yet you don’t realize that you’re the only girl that I see?! I don’t need that, all I need is for you to give me a chance…” His fierce gaze softens as he continues to speak, finally spilling things he’s been yearning to confess for longer than you could ever know. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, and though your heart would normally flutter at the words, what takes over your thoughts is the person who’s saying them. “You don’t see how I look at you and you don’t understand that you’re fucking exquisite- and I,”

“I will treat you better than anyone else. I will treat you how you deserve to be treated, but all I need is a chance, Y/N…”

Hoseok sees your face. He sees just how confused you are, how unsure you are of what to say and decides that he hates himself. He can’t believe how stupid he was to think that maybe one day, when he would gather up enough courage to tell you about what he feels about you, maybe, just maybe- you’d reciprocate and things would turn out for the better. But he was dumb to even think of that, blinded by his own need to be honest with you and there’s nothing that sounds more appealing to him than just turning around and escaping to the door, grabbing his coat and his keys on his way out.

Just like that, Hoseok walks out on you for the first time in your life. And you have no idea when and if he’ll be coming back.

If he had liked you since before, you don’t know how you could have been blind to all of it. You’ve known the boy since you were fifteen and you didn’t even notice a change in behavior whatsoever? Ridiculous.

Midnight paints your thoughts colorful, drawings pictures of memories and retracing the words he had previously said in the past few days in a desperate attempt to gain something, to look for a sign before everything came crashing down. It’s silent in the household even as you leave your door open- there’s no sleep music faintly playing from his room, no plates clattering in the kitchen for midnight snacks, nothing.

It’s a dark thought leeching at the back of your mind, forcing you to stay awake even when the clock rings to signal a new day for you and when the sun rises up in the horizon, light streaming in through your blinds. You don’t hear anybody in the shower or nor do you hear the sound  of the television downstairs and it’s just lonely.

You’re probably overreacting. You’ve been through nights wherein Hoseok doesn’t sleep in his room. Parties, projects, outings- you know what it’s like without him. But what you aren’t used to is the fact that he is not present because of you and the fact that you did not end in good terms.

So you get up after a long night of no slumber, going through the same exact routine you go through every single active day, except today it’s a lot duller.

The next few days, Hoseok doesn’t show up when you’re around. He times his visits to his own house when he knows you won’t be there. He has a copy of your schedule and so you know when he won’t dare to come, and you take this as an advantage. When you hear the jiggling of keys outside, you know you’ve got him.

The sound of the doorknob twisting interrupts the silent atmosphere in the house and he walks in, sighing. He turns to close the door so at first glance, he doesn’t see you in the living room. When he leans on the wood, however, he sees you sitting on the couch and though your relationship with him isn’t in the best place, he shrieks lightly before putting a fist to his chest. “Fucking hell, Y/N,” He breathes out in shock.

You offer him a light smile in response, opening your mouth to speak. “Hobi, we need to talk.”

“About what, Y/N?” He says exasperatedly. It’s a terrible feeling that registers within him, the pain of unrequited love something he can feel within his veins. “You already know how I feel, and I already know what you feel. What else do we have to talk about?”

Hoseok knows that he’s being irrational. Of course you had to talk because you couldn’t ignore each other forever. You lived in the same place and sneaking around when you were at university wasn’t something he could do for the rest of time. You had to speak to each other but it was eating him alive because he knows what you’re going to say. You don’t feel the same way, and he has to accept that sooner or later. He hoped it was the latter.

You urge him to sit down on your couch and he does so, but why is it that though he’s only feet away, he feels so distant? He feels so far away, and you wish everything could just return to normal.

“How do you know how I feel?”

He turns to look at you and his chest aches, yearning for something he knows he can never have. His role in your life was to be your best friend and he was going out of line. He knew that, but he was done hiding behind it. It would be unfair to you if he kept lying about what he really wanted, so he finally told you. Look where exactly that got him. Honest, but still unhappy. “Your silence was the answer.”

You’re at a loss for words. It’s true that you didn’t feel the same way about him, at least not yet, but during that time you were so shocked with how fast everything was happening that you didn’t even have ample time to process everything properly.

“Then will you wait for me?” You ask, the whole point of why you waited for him finally being brought into the conversation.

Hope takes form in his eyes, barely there but present. You take his hand and slowly entangle your warm fingers with his cold ones while you wait for him to reply. “What do you mean?”

“Will you wait for me? Will you stand by my side?”

He breathes in and smiles because at least there’s the smallest glimmer of light for something more, the kind he believed he could never have. He clutches your palm in two of his own before his voice comes out shakily. Even if it doesn’t end up in both of your favors, he’ll know that he had you at some point. He hopes he doesn’t screw up and he swears that he won’t because like he said, all he needs is one chance.

“However long it takes.”

[sparrowthestrange]

Acecepting

((Graphic birth, labor, demons, and fluff I’ve written this story on two Asexual women who want to have a baby.))

The first time I saw her, I had wandered into a coffee shop late at night. Of course, she gave me a glare of annoyance. I didn’t notice how beautiful she was until after I had sat down. Her hair was cut short and dyed blue she was dressed in a white T-shirt, with a black tie around her neck. She dressed masculine, and I had always been a sucker for girls like that. After that first night, I came back a few more times, I learned her name was Alice and this was her side job while she perfected her acting skills. I told her I liked plays and had a passion for writing. On our first date, we went to a musical together, much to Alice’s protest I paid for it. On our second date, I made her dinner, and we watched movies all night long. She held my hand, I pulled her close and we cuddled. We didn’t have a first kiss until our 6th date and we never went any further then cuddling.

I proposed six months after meeting Alice/ The first time, she turned me down. I tried again six months later, Then another eight after that until finally on the fourth of July as fireworks exploded in the sky, she said yes. Her words were drowned out by the sound and the lights but her hands wrapped around me and she gave me a kiss. I was so happy I began to shiver, tears streamed down my face.

We began planning the wedding shortly after that. I think that Alice thought I was waiting for marriage, and to be fair, I thought the same of her. We had never really talked about sex much, it had never been important in our relationship. I began to dread the thought of our honeymoon. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Alice it was just, I didn’t like the idea of having sex with her or anyone for that matter. I figured I could just wait to bring it up.

The day of our wedding was beautiful. We had it outside on the dock by the lake. it was warm and sunny out, I couldn’t have asked for a better day. Everything was just the way I had dreamed it would be. During the reception, we went swimming in the lake and had a barbeque while all our favorite songs played in the background. Late that night, we had our honeymoon at my parent’s cabin. As the night went on I became increasingly nervous. Alice figured it was just the party, but I was scared for what would happen after.

Night had fallen when we both stripped down and headed back out to the lake, Alice was holding my hand leading me forward. The water was cold but she pulled me close, her body pressed against mine. I couldn’t breathe. We swam out to the raft and then layed down. Alice pinned me to the ground one hand against my right shoulder her leg between my own. I stared up at her as she kissed me. She pressed closer, My whole body shivered but not from excitement. It was just what I had been afraid of, even on my wedding night I wasn’t sexually attracted to the love of my life.

“Stop-” It was a whisper at first “Stop, Alice-” I repeated louder and more forcefully she pulled back peering down at me with a concerned expression.“Sage? What’s wrong?” she muttered softly. I raised my hand and pressed against her shoulder so I could sit up.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you, but I can’t do this, I’m asexual. You’re a beautiful and amazing girl but I’m just not attracted to you that way, I’m not attracted to anyone that way.” My gaze lowered to the ground, this was it, I had only been married one night and she was going to leave me because I couldn’t give her what she had wanted her whole life. This wouldn’t be the first time someone left me because of my asexuality. I felt tears coming to my eyes and then, strong hands wrapped around me. “I’m really glad you told me, honestly, I’m Asexual to,  was only doing this because I thought it was what you wanted. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about it anymore. We could have a campfire and look up creepypastas online instead. I think that would be more fun for both of us.”

At first, I thought she was lying but was I looked up, I saw that she was smiling, and I smiled back. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a kiss, it was like fireworks all over again. “I love you.” I muttered as we got back into the water. I started the fire and Alice got us some marshmallows. We spent the rest of the night telling creepy stories and hanging out by the fire.

After that we moved in together, we spent a lot of time figuring out how everything would work, we spent some time traveling and working on our careers. Me with my writing and Alice with her acting. She got a good job in a traveling theater program and I got to go with. She would always tease me and refer to me as her ‘groopie,’ I didn’t mind, as long as we were together that was all that mattered. I know that most people thought we were doing things behind closed doors but the only thing we ever did was cuddle. It was ok, we let them think what they wanted.

After Alice’s theater career began to slow down a bit, I brought up the idea of having kids. I didn’t want sex but the idea of having a tinny human running around sounded like the best idea in the whole world, thankfully Alice agreed. If I had been dating a man I would have had to explain that I didn’t want sex, thankfully because I was dating a woman it didn’t matter and the doctor didn’t ask go many questions.

Unfortunately, we found out that Alice couldn’t wouldn’t be able to carry children and despite the fact that I was perfectly healthy, I couldn’t conceive a child. We were both devastated, but I refused to give up hope I began to try everything from prayer to herbal medicines when both failed I turned black magic. Alice wasn’t against me trying it, we were both so desperate. Every book I ran into was useless, the spells didn’t work or didn’t have the effects we were looking for. Until we came across a book about demons. It was risky, but Alice and I talked about it for a long time, and in the end, we decided to try it. This was it, either we got a child, or we gave up. Alice and I were both at the end of our rope.

It took a whole month to gather the ingredients, Salt, a rare mineral, and some dried flowers that didn’t grow in this part of the country. When the day finally arrived to do the ritual I spent an hour drawing out the symbols on the floor of our basement so I could make sure they were perfect. By the time night fell Alice was standing back as I began to work. I followed the ritual exactly slicing my palm open and dripping blood onto each of the items as I walked around the circle. When I had finished, there was a long pause. At first, I didn’t think anything had happened but then red smoke began to appear on the floor and from it formed a demon.

The demon had a masculine figure but I couldn’t tell what gender they really were. It was larger built with broad shoulders and claws at the end if it’s fingertips. Its yellow eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room. “You have called upon me, what is it you wish?” The demon’s voice was low, almost a growl.

Alice seemed to be frozen in place so it was I who spoke. “We want a child, we read that you could help. Can you?” I asked willing myself not to be too hopeful. The demon seemed to smirk “Indeed I can, in fact, I can get you a child in a matter of hours.” With a smirk, the demon began to pull down his pants revealing himself to the two girls. Both Alice and I let out a surprised yelp and were soon covering our eyes with our hands. “PUT THAT AWAY!” Alice yelled.

“What? Oh well-” The demon seemed confused but when I heard the zipper on his pants go back up I lowered my hands. “You don’t want sex?” He asked confused. “The book said you could give us a child through the use of magic,” I said trying to erase what I had just seen from my memory.

“I can.” the demon agreed. “But, it’s rare that a human prefers that method of reproduction. I mean, it’s not exactly natural.” The demon gestured to his body, he had abbs and was tall, despite being a demon he was rather handsome and I could tell that a typical human would likely let him have his way. However, his demonic beauty didn’t effect Alice or me in the slightest.

“One, I’m very gay and two we are both asexual so even though you’re very aesthetically pleasing I would very much enjoy the use of magic,” I said as I took a step closer to him.

“Oh, I see.” He still seemed confused but after a moment gave a shrug. “I will make you a deal then, threw the use of magic I will give you two children, one will be mine, and the other yours, you will be required to deliver both of them. I ask nothing more than that. Though I should warn you it will be a difficult process and your human body may have a hard time adapting to the changes, are you sure this is what you want?”

Alice looked a bit worried but I smiled “I am positive, I would go thru hell to have a child. This is what I want.” I was positive I wanted a child, and I wanted a child with Alice. If I had to birth twins to do it, so be it, if I had to suffer to get the child I didn’t mind. Even if it ended up killing me at least I could still give Alice what she wanted.

“Very well, come here.” The demon muttered asking me to step into the circle I nodded and let go of Alice’s hand stepping past the lines drawn in chalk just a few hours before. “Take off your shirt.” the demon commanded and fearlessly I pulled off my T-shirt and tossed it aside. The demon cut the palm of his own hand and began to draw on my belly in blood mumbling a language I couldn’t understand. My belly began to glow, it was warm and almost comforting but not necessarily uncomfortable. After a short time, the demon pulled it’s hand back. “The whole pregnancy can vary from a few hours to a few days but when the child is born I will return to collect it. You have your wish.” The demon bowed and then disappeared into the same red smoke it had first appeared in.

Alice took me upstairs and right away began fussing over me, offering water and a place to rest. I was going to refuse at first but I began to feel strange a weird combination of heat and pressure had formed in my womb, it didn’t hurt but it was uncomfortable. I began to feel nauseous and I spent the rest of the day throwing up. Alice pressed a cool cloth to my forehead and kept me company as I tried to rest. The first day was hell and by nightfall, I already had a small bulge forming around my midsection.

I awoke to a feeling of pressure unlike the night before it was much stronger, almost painful. I groaned shifting uncomfortably. I tried to sit up and noticed a heaviness around my midsection. I soon realized I was very pregnant. I appeared close to full term and I could feel the babies moving inside me. I pushed myself up to a sitting position gasping as the pressure grew worse. Under my hand, my belly pushed out another few inches. They were growing so quickly my body wasn’t getting much time to adjust.  

Once the pressure let up I was left feeling achy and tired. I glanced around the room and found Alice asleep in the chair across from me. After a bit of effort, I managed to stand up by myself. I made my way to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. I felt so much heavier then I thought I would. The pressure hit me again as I was filling my glass with water. The cup fell from my hand and into the sink as one hand moved around to the side of my belly. Slowly, it began to push out again, it hurt, there was no way I could keep growing like this, I could feel my muscles straining. As the pain grew worse my legs threatened to give out but suddenly Alice was at my side holding me up her arm wrapped around my waist “It’s alright.” She whispered. “I’ve got you.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much love towards the woman I leaned on her until the growing stopped my head resting on her shoulder. “That looks like more than twins.” She said a hint of worry in her voice. Alice pressed a hand to my belly feeling the babies kick and move. My belly was already tight in some places you could see the veins more so around the bottom part of my belly.

“Here,” Alice muttered reaching into the sink to pick up my cup and get me a glass of water. “Better?” She asked and I gave a nod the cup already pressed against my lips. “Come on, sit down.” She said softly leading me over to the kitchen table. I had only just sat down when I was hit with a new sensation, It was kind of like the pressure from before but with more of a cramping sensation. I pressed a hand to my belly and found it was even tighter than usual. After just a few moments the pain let up and I was able to relax before Alice realized anything was wrong.

The pain returned quickly only a few minutes later and it was stronger than before. I was unable to keep quiet about it and was soon hunched over with one hand pressed against my belly I let out a low groan. Alice was by my side as soon as she heard it. “It’s ok.” She whispered rubbing my back. “Just breathe.” She said softly attempting to keep me calm. When it was over she helped me up. “Come on, come get in the shower with me, It’ll help.” I thought about refusing but that did sound like a good idea.

Alice started the water and helped me get undressed. She put a chair in the shower so I would be able to sit and then got in behind me. She washed my hair for me and rubbed my back her hands trailing down to my belly as she leaned forward. “You know, even though I’m Asexual, I think you look sexy like this,” Alice muttered rubbing my belly. She paused her hand in the center of my stomach as the pain hit me again. Alice could feel the muscles around my belly contract and become rigid.I could feel it to, it was strong and painful the pain starting low in my belly and moving around to my lower back. I spread my legs and instinctively began rocking my hips to help ease some of the pressure. “Ugghhhhh” as the contraction peaked and then faded away.

“That was a strong one hu?” Alice muttered moving her hands back to my shoulders massaging them. “You’re doing great, this will all be over soon and will have a beautiful baby. They’ll look just like their mother.” Alice was trying to encourage me, I could tell. By the time the water grew cold, I had suffered three more contractions. Alice turned off the water and helped me out of the shower wrapping a towel around my body she dried all the parts I couldn’t reach. I slid on an oversized T-shirt and headed back downstairs. Halfway down the steps, I was hit by another contraction. Alice turned around putting her hands on my shoulders to steady me. I leaned on her as I widen my stance and began moving my hips in small circles. There was a pressure forming, and pain in my lower back like someone was stabbing me with a knife. “UGGHHH” I gasped my hands gripping Alice so tightly I might have left her with a bruise. When the pain passed Alice said nothing simply lead me back to the couch to rest for a bit.

Alice covered me in a blanket and for awhile I tried to sleep. I quickly found that the pressure and contractions wouldn’t let me and so Instead I began to pace the length of our living room. I would stop whenever a pain hit me and try to breathe and relax through it. As the most current one hit me I found myself gripping the back side of the couch and lowering myself into a squat. The pressure had grown worse I could feel my body straining to accommodate and make room for the baby. My pelvis began to ache as the child dropped lower. “It hurts!” I yelled as the contraction peaked. “I know,” Alice muttered coming up behind me. “I’m sorry, but you’re getting closer.” I only got a few moments rest before the pain hit me again. ���GAAAHH!” I cried out rocking my hips, trying to do anything that might get rid of the pain.

My water didn’t break for another hour, I was starting to go mad the cramping sensations and pressure growing worse. It felt like I was getting ready to explode. “AHHHHHHHHHH!” By now Alice was getting used to my cries she rubbed my back and hips trying to keep me calm. As the contraction peeked I felt a wetness between my legs and looked down to find water pooling under me. “There ya go, that’s it won’t be long now,” Alice said as she helped me stand back up.

“Come on, let's get you to the bedroom.” She led me slowly to our room, I only just managed to get to the doorway before another pain hit me. “Ughhhh” I doubled over as the squeezing pain took over me. “It’s coming!” I gasped behind me I heard Alice give a quiet chuckle. “Yes, It is, soon we’re going to be parents, just like we always wanted. You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.” Slowly, Alice was able to get me over to the bed and I was about to sit down when another contraction hit hard. I dropped to my knees at the side of the bed before Alice could catch me. Alice tried to help me up but a shook my head. There was no way I could move again, I wasn’t going to get back up. My back hurt and the unrelenting pressure had returned. The first baby was dropping moving down through my pelvis. Alice looked like she was going to protest at first but then she gave a nod of understanding and bent down next to me. “Do you feel like pushing yet?” I was about to answer no when the next pain gripped me and my response changed “Yes, oh fuck!” I could feel my birth canal starting to open, at the same time I was starting to realize how big the baby felt. My body didn’t know how to handle this, and I could feel the muscles spasming around the baby as I struggled to accommodate its size.

It was getting hard to tell when one contraction ended and the next one began, gripping the side of the bed I began bearing down. Progress was slow and during my short rests, Alice offered me ice or sips of water. I was pushing for 30 minutes before I began to feel a burning sensation the head beginning to stretch me wide open. “Take it slow,” Alice whispered as she reached one hand down brushing over the top of the baby’s head.

“AHHHHH! It burns!” I shrieked as the baby reached a full crown. “Please, get it out! I can’t!” Alice smiled lightly with one hand supporting the head she whispered for me to push despite my panic I gave in to her request and the constant contractions. The head popped out of me with a rush of fluid. “Good girl.” She said soothing my hair back “Rest a moment.” Alice said as she checked for the cord. I took a few seconds to catch my breath but as soon as the next contraction hit I was pushing.

I felt one shoulder stretch me open quickly followed by the other and at the same time, I felt the second baby drop into place. I groaned realizing I wasn’t going to get much of a break with one last cry of agony I freed my first child. Alice picked it up and handed to me. We wrapped it in a towel and I brought it to my chest to feed. This was the human baby it looked completely normal in every way.

There were tears in Alice’s eyes as she looked down at me, “You’re both so beautiful, so amazing.” She said as she cut the cord and sat down next to me. I had a short time to bond with my baby before the contraction began to come back with a vengeance. Alice took the baby from me when she noticed I was starting to squirm. “It’s ok, you’re almost done.” I nodded leaning my back against the side of the bed I spread my legs apart. I soon realized this position wasn’t comfortable and I asked Alice to help me up. She was able to pull me to my feet once standing I could feel the full weight of the baby still within me. Maybe it was my imagination but somehow, it seemed even bigger than its sibling.

As the contraction hit I dropped into a squat Alice moved so she was behind me holding me up under my arms. “UGGHHHHHH!” Without warning, I began bearing down but little progress was made. I tried to widen my hips in response to the pressure but they were already as far apart as I could get them. The contractions seemed to be getting stronger as if my body understood how much harder it was going to have to work. I felt as if my internal organs were being crushed by the strength of the contractions. After a few minutes of almost no progress, I began screaming, this one was so much harder then it’s sibling so much worse it felt like actual torture.

There was red smoke and then the demon appeared out of nowhere. “Looks like you’re having a hard time.” He muttered softly. I didn’t have time to be afraid or worried I was in so much pain. Alice held me protectively “What do you want?” She asked her voice more defensive then she had meant it.

“I want to help.” The demon muttered. “I was worried this might happen, the baby is too big to deliver without my help, please, may I?” Alice seemed to consider his words a moment before nodding. He crouched down before me and set a hand on my belly. “I’m going to help you, but it’s going to hurt.”

I was so delirious with pain at this point that I simply gave a grunt in response. The demon’s hand took on a red tint and after a few seconds, he pulled it back. For a few short seconds I didn’t understand what had happened and then I felt it, it was as if someone was driving over my midsection with a car. I arched my back screaming in agony. “Push!” Alice yelled over my cry of pain. “Sage, you have to push!” I knew she was right and dropped my chin to my chest bearing down with everything I had, I finally felt it move, dropping into my canal. The muscles clamped tight around it stretched as far as they could go. “GET IT OUT!” I yelled through the next pain.  It was starting to crown I could feel the head.

“Wow-” Alice muttered as she saw the size of the bulge between my legs. She shook her head snapping out of her shock. “Push.” She encouraged as my muscles visibly tightened with another contraction.  “IT’S GOING TO TEAR ME IN HALF!” I gasped as more of the head appeared. I felt like I was trying to push out a 15-pound bowling ball. My entire lower region was burning and I hadn’t even gotten to the widest point yet.

Alice saw what I was crying about and her eyes went wide. “Don’t push.” She said sternly “Give yourself a moment to stretch. I tried to listen to her but the pressure was so much and the contractions so strong. “Don’t push,” Alice said again placing her hand on the emerging head.

“AHHHH THE PRESSURE! I HAVE TO PUSH!” I cried out in pain, at this point I was tired and I didn’t care if I tore. I  just wanted it out, I wanted to be done.

“DON’T PUSH!” Alice yelled back at me but instinctively I was already bearing down. Alice attempted to hold the head in place causing me to shriek in agony.  

“SAGE, stop you’re going to te-” Alice’s words were to late the head rushed forward up to its widest point making a tear. I could feel the blood and stinging I let out a howl of agony in response. At this point, it was no use trying to tell me to slow down so Alice simply told me to push again.

“UGGGHHHOWWWWWWWW!” I screamed as the head emerged the rest of the way. Alice had to hold it with both hands. She checked quickly for the cord but I was pushing before she even gave the ok. The shoulders were wide and stretched me just as much as the head. It took me six minutes to free the rest of the baby and with one last cry of pain, I was able to get it out. I fell back against the side of the bed as Alice cut the cord and began tending to me. I was so exhausted I was barely aware of what was going on. Strong hands lifted me up placing me on the bed to recover. The demon took his baby and left never to return again. I was half convinced that this had all been some sort of strange dream until I awoke the following morning to the sound of our new baby crying. Despite my sore body I was happy that we had the baby we had always wanted, not only that but we had done it together. I had to go thru hell to get it, but I finally had the family I had always wanted.

[ourheroregina]

19, having a prank war: outlaw queen missing year (already established friendship/ relationship?) Thankyouuu

I got this prompt two- three years ago and only now I finally managed to write it! I’m so sorry for the wait, if you, anon, are still here and reading my stuff!!

Also, this prompt fit for OQ Angst Fest, so I chose to write it for the first day! The prompts that are incuded:

2. “Leave me alone”

7. “I never meant to hurt you.”

15. “You knew, and you did it anyway,”

22. “I trusted you”

27. “I have every right to be angry”

29. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you knowit”

Nice reading!

(…)

                               Prank War

Robin ofLocksley is driving Regina out of her mind.

From thevery first moment he laid his eyes on her she knew that he was up to no good.Her suspicions were confirmed a few days later, when she noticed his tattoo andrealized the thief was the man with a lion tattoo, her soulmate.

That dayRegina Mills promised herself she would keep her distance from this awfullyhandsome man.

However,Robin didn’t let her.

He wouldwalk up to her at the most inconvenient time and would tease and embarrass herin a court room and at every other opportunity he got. He liked to get on hernerves.

He liked toprank her even more. He would take her horse on a walk when she needed it, hewould tell her that Snow and Charming are waiting her in a courtroom and shewould come there and find it empty. He would discretely pour salt into her teainstead of sugar, or would pour too much sugar in it just to annoy her.

It was avery silly game that he was playing, a silly and annoying one that drove Reginaout of her mind.

Today, she’slost her patience. When she comes into the kitchen in the morning and takes hercup of coffee that Granny had prepared for her, she spots Robin sitting in thecorner of the kitchen, eating left-overs from yesterday’s dinner. He isn’tlooking at her, but he’s definitely smirking, and Regina glares at him beforebringing the cup to her lips.

She doesn’texpect anything to be wrong.

But it is,oh it is.

Her coffeeis sour.

She can’thelp but let out a growl – that idiot should have known better than annoy herbefore her morning coffee.

Before sheknows it a fireball is formed in her palm and the smirk on the thief’s lipsalmost makes her throw it right into his face. However, just before she can doit an idea hit her.

She letsthe cup drop from her hands, shatters of porcelain scattering across the flooras she bends over, her hand coming to rest on her lower belly, a quiet groanleaving her parted lips.

The smirkdisappears from Robin’s face almost immediately, his brow furrowing, and thenmoments later he’s standing beside her, his arm resting on her shoulder, askingif she’s alright.

Regina hasto fight the urge to strangle him now that he’s so close.

“I’m fine,”Regina tells him, gritting her teeth to make her performance even morebelievable.

“You needto sit down,” Robin says, wrapping his arm around Regina, supporting her, as heslowly walks her to the table while she continues to inhale deeply through hernose and exhale through her mouth as if trying to fight the sick feeling in herstomach.

Once she’ssitting on the chair, Robin leaves her side and rushes to the bucket of coolwater and returns with a full cup. Regina takes it from Robin with shakinghands and empties it in a few deep gulps.

“What’swrong?” Robin asks when Regina finally straightens in her seat, brushing a fewstrands of hair away from her forehead.

She glancesto the door to make sure that they’re really alone and tells him in a quietvoice, “You have to stop pranking me, thief.” Robin’s face breaks into a smilebut it falls immediately when Regina adds, “I’m pregnant.”

Robin’seyes widen in shock, his jaw dropping open. The hand that’s been resting on herback falls away, and Regina has to fight the urge to smile.

“I can’tget sick, you know. The last time you poured a bucket of cold water all overme, I got a fever.” She reminds him, but Robin doesn’t react to her words, hejust continues to stare at her in shock. “I have a sad history with pregnanciesand I wouldn’t want to lose this one, too.”

Reginalooks away from him then, faking sadness – otherwise she would start laughingbecause his expression is comical.

 “You’repregnant?” He asks, his voice full of disbelief.

“Yes, I’mtwo months along,” she lies, and Robin’s eyes widen even more (how is it evenpossible?).

That night,almost two months ago, was a huge mistake, but it was Henry’s birthday and shewas devastated. Robin found her wandering in the forest late that night, andthere was no sass in his voice as he asked her if she was alright. She doesn’tknow what came over her then, perhaps she longed for love, acceptance or justwanted to forget her heartbreak for a moment, and she kissed him right on thelips.

Even thoughRobin was acting like a complete idiot, she knew that deep down he wasn’t one,she knew that he was a good man, and that knowledge made her throw caution tothe wind because she wrapped her arms around his neck in order to pull himcloser and opened her mouth, deepening the kiss.

It didn’ttake long until she was being pushed against the tree, his hands squeezing herhips as she moaned into his mouth, forgetting the world around herselfcompletely.

“But… yousaid you couldn’t-“ Robin stutters out, still staring at her with wide eyes.

Reginafeels victorious – that’s the reaction she’s wanted to get.

She knew hewould freak out. Her plan is to torture him for a few days, and then finallyshe’ll tell him that he can calm down – the Evil Queen is not carrying hischild, that it was all just a prank, and that he never ever try to make fun ofher again.

“Ishouldn’t be pregnant,” Regina nods her head, “But I am right now. With yourchild.”

“Oh Gods,” it’s all he manages to say as hecontinues to stare at her face.

It seemslike a few hours pass until finally his piercing gaze falls down away from hereyes to her flat stomach. He clearly wants to say something because he openshis mouth but then closes it, repeating the action a few times.

And thensuddenly he’s taking a step closer to her and wrapping his arms around hertightly. Regina lets out a surprised gasp when he lifts her from the ground andspins around, murmuring something into her hair. When he puts her down on theground and pulls away a bit, his eyes are teary, a huge smile on his face.

This timeit is Regina’s eyes that widen in shock.

Is heactually… happy?

“A child?”he asks, his voice full of disbelief. A few tears roll down his cheek as herests his palm on her belly and looks at her with a huge watery smile, “Regina,we are having a child,” he tells her, before leaning over and kissing her onthe lips.

Reginastands there still, not being able to return his kiss.

Who couldbe happy when the Evil Queen is expecting their baby? The child would probablybe cursed, sick or dark and twisted and would end up killing people and ruininglives for its own pleasure, just like its mother.

Robin pullsaway from her a bit before letting out a laugh full of happiness and then hewraps his arms around her again, pulling her into a tight hug and whisperingthat she’s just made him the happiest man in all realms.

Reginaswallows hard.

What hasshe done?

(…)

Robin wasecstatic about the baby who didn’t exist.

Regina hadto work really hard to convince him not to tell anyone, not even his closestfriend, about the pregnancy. He only agreed when she told him a made-up storyabout how she lost all of King’s children before they were even born (she hopesthat he’ll never ever tell about this to Snow White, otherwise, the youngerwoman could have told Robin that Regina has never been pregnant before).

With eachpassing day, Robin’s excitement only grew while Regina felt like suffocating.When she made this rushed plan to prank Robin, she thought he would freak out,ask her to get rid of the baby or something like that, she was expectinganything but happiness.

And he wasbeyond happy.

Robinbrought her breakfast every morning, waking her up with a sweet kiss on thelips. She tried to convince him that this child is not making them a couple,they would not even be together after it’s born, but Robin didn’t listen toanything. It seemed he was enchanted by the idea of having a baby.

He spenthours walking along with her in the gardens and Regina wanted to tell him that therewas no baby, that it was all a prank but every time she would open her mouth,nothing came out. She would stare at him wordlessly, cursing herself for beingso stupid.

From thevery beginning Regina knew that even though Robin tried to pretend to be careless,deep down he felt that attraction between them. Regina knew that there werefeelings hidden under all of these pranks. How she could be so stupid anddecide that lying about a child was a good payback is beyond her.

Regina wasafraid to think just how hurt Robin will be because of this stupid prank, butshe had to end it as soon as possible (she should have told him it was a liethe moment she saw how happy he was about the baby).

So whenRobin walks into her chambers this morning, Regina is already sitting at theedge of her bed, her fingers moving relentlessly against her skirts, givingaway that she’s anxious.

Robinsmiles at her sweetly and puts a trait of food on the nightstand. He turns tolook at her with a cup of tea in his hands, but Regina shakes her head.

Swallowinghard, she tells him, “We need to talk.”

Robinfurrows his brow in confusion, but he puts the cup down and looks back at her.He smiles at her then, encouraging her to start.

Reginashifts uneasily in her place, feeling sick, and finally says, “I’m notpregnant.”

The wayRobin’s face falls makes Regina swallow hard. It seems that Robin’s stoppedbreathing as he continues to look at her, not even blinking his eyes.

How couldshe ever think that it was funny?

She’s sick,the true Evil Queen.

Stillstaring at her Robin manages to ask, “What?”

Collectingall of her courage, Regina forces herself to look straight into his eyes as shefinally tells him the truth.

“I havenever been pregnant,” she admits, “You were driving me mad with your stupidpranks and I… wanted it to stop, so I made up the pregnancy story. I thoughtyou would freak out!”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No,” sheshakes her head, ashamed. “Believe me, I’m so sorry. I’ve never wanted to hurtyou. You kept pulling pranks on me and I was so fed up, I thought I would dosomething in return.”

“And youdecided that laying to me about our non-existent child would be a good way toget your revenge on me.”

“No! Ididn’t mean to hurt you!” she tells him sincerely. “I thought that you wouldfreak out! I thought that you wouldn’t want that child, that you hated me andthat… you would be so relieved that I’m not actually pregnant that you wouldstop your stupid pranks.”

Robin openshis mouth to say something, but instead shakes his head and just stares at her.His jaw is tensed, his deep blue eyes are piercing right through her dark soul,and Regina cannot help it but look away.

She wantsto disappear. She really does. And she could do it easily with one simple waveof her hand.

However, Robinis the only person who hasn’t been afraid of her since the moment she steppedinto her castle. He’s a good man and father, and he didn’t deserve to be hurtlike that.

She has topay for what she’s done so she continues to sit beside him.

Shiftinguncomfortably, she tells him, “I nevermeant to hurt you. All I wanted to do was prank you.”

Robin letsout a shuddering breath and then gets up from the bed, starts pacing back andforth, his hands fisted in his head. Regina swallows hard as she watches him,and for the umpteenth time that day she asks herself what the hell she wasthinking when she decided to hurt him like that.

“I think youdid want to hurt me,” Robin finally says, turning to look at her.

“Robin, please,” Regina stands up as well andtakes a step closer to him. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it!”

“Oh, no?”he lets out a humorless laugh. “So why didn’t you tell me right then that itwas a prank? You saw how excited I was about this baby, you knew this prank was cruel,and you did it anyway,“ his voice trails off after that, and Regina has tolook down ashamed. She should have told him weeks ago that it was all just aprank, he is right. “I have every rightto be angry, your Majesty.” He then states in an angry tone.

“Robin-“she trails off trying to touch his hand but he flinches away from her.

“Itrusted you!” he shouts, taking a step closer to her, his anger radiatingoff of him in waves. “I stayed in your bloody castle to protect your ass, all Iwanted to do was see you smile, and in return you’re doing this to me!” As hetakes another step closer, Regina cannot help herself and take one back. Shedoesn’t think he’ll hurt her, but she wouldn’t want to risk and find out.

Regina’sheart stops beating as he stares straight into her eyes and she can see thehatred in his. She doesn’t look down, no matter how much she wants to. Shewants him to let all of his anger out on her and then forgive it all.

Instead ofsaying another word, Robin turns away from her, shaking his head, and makes hisway towards the door.

Regina haspromised herself to never run after a man, but Robin is worth it and she findsherself turning around and trying to reach for his hand.

Just beforeher fingers can wrap around his wrist, he turns around and growls out, “Leave me alone.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Robin. I’mso sorry,” she says but he has already walked out of her chambers, slamming thedoor shut behind himself.

As Reginafalls down to the floor with tears in her eyes, she’s reminded once again thatshe was born to ruin people’s lives and she’ll never be able to change, nomatter how hard she tries.

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by Guest Contributor on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: A guest contribution from David Hoes to The Prepper Journal. I love this. Goes well as a supplement to the recent post on Prime Locations for Post Disaster Salvage. As always, if you have information for Preppers that you would like to share then enter the Prepper Writing Contest with a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards  with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies, enter today.

Okay, I admit it. I am a scrounger. I don’t do it out of necessity; I do it because I enjoy getting a bargain and building my prepping stockpiles. Now, I need to clarify that I do not steal things. I do not take towels from hotels or silverware from restaurants. I do not find and keep items such as wallets, credit cards, or electronic devices that can be traced to an owner. I do not keep anything that someone is likely to try to reclaim. Such items I will turn in somewhere. If I see someone drop something, I will tell them.

I’m also not going to discuss using coupons or discounts. These are both good ideas, but have already been covered.

That said, I do take items that are unlikely to ever get back to their original owner, and things that I am allowed to take or that are come with something I have purchased. If in doubt – I ask. Here are some ideas:

Personal protective equipment: Most hospitals and some doctor’s offices now offer free respirators to visitors. I’ve picked-up several of these. Protective gloves are often available in the ER or in patient rooms, and some give-out small bottles of hand sanitizer. I have a little psoriasis on my hands, and they are happy to give them out. In the quantities a hospital purchases them, they are almost free.

Wipes and anti-bacterial solution: Doctor’s offices and medical facilities often have solutions or wipes available for free. They bill your insurance $150 for a few minutes with a doctor. They don’t sweat the little stuff. Heck, ask your doctor for appropriate medical samples while you are at it. You never know what you may get.

Gauze, wipes, Band-Aids, and surgical tape: I have asked if I could take a few gauze pads, alcohol wipes, and mostly used rolls of tape when I have gone to labs and imaging facilities. They are normally okay with it.

Salt, pepper, sugar, condiment packets, and straws: These all have survival and medical uses. Grab a few each time you go to a fast-food place. During the depression in the 1930’s, those down on their luck would go to a diner and order a cup of hot water for a few cents. They would then add ketchup and other condiments to make a sort-of tomato soup. There is actually enough vitamin C in a few packs of ketchup to prevent scurvy. Is this stealing? If taken in reasonable quantities, I do not believe so. If I order a cup of coffee, part of the price I pay goes to cream and sugar. My ex used to take her coffee with 4 creams and 4 sugars. I do not use either, so I do not think taking one or two of each is stealing. Now, taking a handful? Yes. That is stealing. Asking for salt and condiments at a drive through? Nope. What they put in the bag is yours.

Soaps and shampoos: Yes, in a motel I take what they put in my room. I do not consider it stealing; I believe that I have paid for it and can take it. When I or a loved one is in the hospital, I take whatever they give as well. Hospital staff has told me on numerous occasions that insurance paid for it and if I don’t take it they will throw it out. Also, many hotels provide courtesy tooth brushes, tooth paste, and combs upon request. If they give it to you, it isn’t stealing, even if you don’t really need it. But no, I don’t take towels or rolls of toilet paper.

Candles at church: Many churches toss-out candles after one or two uses, and may give-away the used ones for free if you ask. Although some now use propane or natural gas simulated candles, those that still use candles tend to use ones of very high quality. Small stubs can be melted down and used to create larger candles. My church had a Christmas Eve service where everyone was given a candle to hold. They were lit for about 10 minutes and not reused. Hundreds of good candles were thrown out.

Community events: Where I live, they have several free community disaster planning, home and garden, and wellness events each year. They give-out items such as samples of seeds, dental floss and toothbrushes, band aids, energy bars, bottled water, samples of vitamins, water bottles, and other swag. At one event, the first 50 people through the door got a bag with some very nice stuff.

Food banks: I have been fortunate enough to have survived without going to one. However, if you are looking to build a small emergency stockpile, why not go and pick-up a few cans of food? They will probably mostly have items near or past the expiration date, but canned food is generally safe to eat long after the expiration date. I have eaten MRE’s and canned foods that were 10 years past their expiration dates and suffered no ill effects. The exceptions are if the can is damaged, in poor condition, or if the can contains acidic products such as tomatoes. Is it wrong to take food from a food bank if you are not immediately facing hunger? I think the answer is, it depends. If you are sufficiently wealthy to purchase your food and have plenty of money to stock-up on prepping supplies, I would say that it is wrong. However, if you can buy all you now need but are unable to afford to purchase a enough for a 72 hour emergency supply of food to see you through a disaster, I would say not. I donate money to food banks, and I give so that people do not go hungry. As a donor, I am not bothered by those who use the food bank to prepare for future hard times.

Wooden Pallets: I live near a business that sells pools and hot tubs, and another that sells paving stones. They dispose of dozens of wooden pallets each week. I have used them to create raised garden beds, for firewood, and for woodworking projects including building a bed frame for a futon.

Road Debris: When I drive, I keep an eye on the shoulder and medians. I frequently find bandannas, bungee cords, tools and knives, Bic Lighters (still good), coolers, storage totes, thermoses, 5-gallon plastic buckets, gas cans, and a variety of other items. Bandanas are my favorite find; I have found 30 or more. Bikers lose bandannas like crazy. Wash and reuse them. They have lots of survival uses. One of my favorite finds took place a few weeks ago. I found a Camillus Titanium folding knife lying in the road. It was a bit scuffed-up and not very sharp, but I cleaned it up, sharpened it, and it has become my EDC knife.

Post-disaster giveaways: Here in Florida, following Hurricane Irma, the County and many different organizations gave-out a lot of food and water to anyone who came by. No questions were asked. A friend of mine got dozens of bags of cookies, boxes of Pringles chips, ten cases of Civilian MRE’s and ten cases of bottled water. It is unfortunate, but the ones who give and the ones who distribute often have very different goals. Churches, civic groups and charities may raise money for 1,000 meals. They want to see 1,000 different people get food. Those who distribute the aid may not care. If one person arrives with a truck that can carry 1,000 meals, they may let them have it all. They don’t want to carry it back at the end of the day. They will report back that the food was distributed and everyone will be happy. Don’t be a pig, but if you can put it to good use, do so.

Free bicycles: I am only speaking about Florida, but I think this is true for other areas. Law Enforcement departments recover a huge number of bicycles that have been abandoned, discarded or stolen and that are not claimed by owners. In some places jail inmates repair them as part of a work program. It is not widely advertised, but there may be periodic giveaways where serviceable bikes are distributed on first come basis. I once had two bikes stolen in a particular county. One of the two was recovered, but I had already replaced it, so I donated it to this program.

Why am I mentioning bicycles? Well, because I believe that in a TEOTWAWKI situation, they may become the most important method of transportation.

Complaining about lousy stuff: I wrote a negative review about a pair of gloves I bought on Amazon. I included a photo clearly showing the defect. They sent me a new pair without making me return the old pair. The old pair went into my preps box.

I have complained about the quality of canned or packaged foods. They sent me coupons for free products. I DO NOT invent complaints to get free stuff. In some cases, the original product was so nasty I did not want coupons for two free ones. That was the case where I bought a can of collard greens that contained a large cockroach. Still, if you pay for a product and you really get something nasty, complain. Then add it to your preps. If SHTF and you have nothing else, you may be willing to risk eating a cucaracha. Even sending a suggestion may earn you a coupon for a free product. I told a company that sells crackers and tuna snacks that the crackers crumbled too easily. They send me a coupon for a free package. I did not lie and I did not steal.

Garbage day: I’m not going to go into the finer points of dumpster diving, but the finds possible on garbage day are incredible. I have changed residences 18 times since leaving High School. Many were interstate moves. When your car and U-Haul are packed to the max and there is still more stuff, you put it on the curb. I once had a Saturn so overloaded it could barely make 50 mph on an Interstate. I left a lot of valuable stuff behind that could have really helped some prepper. If you see a big pile of stuff waiting for the garbage truck, most of it probably still works.

I realize that my suggestions may be distasteful to some. It is much more fun to purchase prepper items from Amazon or WalMart. In America, second-hand, discarded and used are bad words. Nevertheless, if SHTF, scrounging skills will become more valuable than shopping on-line with a credit card skills. And if you have some more ideas, I would appreciate hearing them.

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from The Prepper Journal Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

You mentioned a long time ago that you had a friend that stalked you online and talked bad about you because she had fertility issues. How have you been able to deal with it? Has it changed you and your willingness to befriend others?

Omgsh I’m laughing so hard because this is like the perfect example of broken telephone. Every individual aspect of this scenario has truth/came from somewhere but the overall situation is completely garbled. 😂

Like if I understand correctly, you remember the situation as I had a friend who had fertility issues and, while we were still friends, she stalked me online and talked behind my back as a direct result of her fertility issues, and I found out about this and was totally betrayed and might therefore have trust issues now.

What actually happened was that we were part of a group of friends, and she started dating someone I was close with from that group very seriously. I had always noticed that she tended to be emotionally manipulative of him and that he was extremely susceptible to it, so I said something to him after he directly  asked me for feedback on the relationship. I’m glossing over a TON of the details here because this isn’t the actual story, just necessary background info, but suffice to say she convinced him the manipulation was nbd, and I ended up cutting off contact with both of them (though in his case it was actually not directly because of their relationship).  A few months later a mutual friend deleted me from FB out of the blue, at which point I found out that she had been trash talking me to at least a few of our friends (while I had said nothing to anyone). The others had seemingly taken her rants with a grain of salt, but the friend who deleted me had 100% taken her side and wouldn’t even hear me out when I tried to talk to her, even claiming I should have assumed the male friend was lying about certain things (he wasn’t but also why should I have assumed he was even if he was) (good riddance then, I didn’t count her a loss 🤷). Had another confrontation with the couple, which ended in me parting  ways with the male on good terms but blocking the female and telling her never to contact me again.

Perhaps a year later I noticed someone in a Facebook group who didn’t have a photo of herself as her profile picture who seemed to have the exact background of this girl. It was pretty obvious she had made a fake account to be able to discuss certain things more anonymously. She also seemed to davka be interacting with my posts and comments, having no idea I knew who she was. Eventually she even started PMing me about posts. But it seemed like she was working on herself (she was finally in therapy after years of people trying to get her to go, for one thing) and needed the anonymous outlet, so for quite some time I didn’t call her out. However, over time it became evident she was trying to figure out a way to engineer an in-person meeting - she went to the wedding of one of my acquaintances, who she literally did not know; she asked me about classes in my neighborhood (she lived 3 hours away but said she and her husband - yep, they got married - would be in town for a few days), etc. I always found a way to put her off, but as she kept persisting, eventually it got to a point where I decided it was ridiculous and called her out on the whole thing.

Initially we had some productive conversations that rectified some misunderstandings from the past. I decided I was open to some limited renewed contact. However, she was messaging me CONSTANTLY, sending me new messages before I’d answered previous ones, asking me about every facet of my life as if we were BFFs suddenly (like, closer than we were BEFORE all of this went down...we were never that close). No matter how much time I took before replying to messages, no matter how brief I kept my answers, no matter how little I asked about her, she wasn’t getting the hint that I wasn’t open to that level of friendship, so eventually I had to tell her that it was way too much  and felt suffocating. She got really upset and blocked me, which I didn’t mind.

A few months later, though, she signed up for a program a good friend of mine was running through an organization that comprised my main social group. I told my friend about the situation and we agreed to watch and wait since it seemed unlikely she would show up in person to anything, being that she lived 3 hours away and the events were typically weekday evenings. But...she did. She drove 6 hours round trip one day to come to one of these things. I confronted her outside  afterwards and she told me she had just wanted to “see my face.” It was creepy, but seeing her in person for the first time in years also humanized her, so I agreed that next time she was in the neighborhood (she claimed that she and her husband came regularly to spend the weekend  and see other friends in the area) we could meet for coffee.

A few weeks later she messaged me that she was going to be in town that coming Sunday to see some people and asked if I had time to get coffee. I agreed and we set up a time. At 1am Saturday night (after I was asleep), she messaged me that oops lol she’d stayed up too late on Facebook and didn’t want to get up early, so she’d be coming later. She kept pushing the time back that morning and eventually I was like this is ridiculous, I have other things to do, I’m not holding my whole day open just because you didn’t have the discipline to get off Facebook at a normal hour last night, and cancelled, telling  her we could meet another time since she’d need time to see other people anyway. At that point she flipped out and admitted that she was only coming into town to see me, there were no other plans, and tried to manipulate me into feeling bad and seeing her anyway, which I stood firm on. After that reaction I was like lol nope that future meeting isn’t happening either, I’m done with this.

Mere weeks later she tried to get into another program my friend was running. My friend was aware of the whole situation so we discussed and  spoke with a rov, who advised that my friend should tell her she could participate in certain ways  (that wouldn’t bring her into contact with me) but not others and certainly could not come in person, given her background stalking me.  Needless to say she did NOT take that well and sent me a very angry email, which I never responded to. That was 3 years ago now.

After that I periodically monitored her internet presence to try to catch if she was going to pull anything stalkery again. She fairly regularly wrote (without mentioning anyone by name) about her anger with me and with my friend, accusing the friend of treating her unfairly by not getting her side of the story and me of purposely trying to trash her because I hated her as opposed to trying to protect myself from a literal stalker. When I got married roughly a year later she found my registry by internet stalking me and sent me a gift (which I promptly returned to the store because no one needs that energy in their wine glasses). Then, when I was maybe a month and a half before my due date with my son, I came across a piece of hers in the course of my regular monitoring which for once didn’t mention anything about me or my friend (though relatively recent things had), but was about her struggles with infertility and specifically a recent miscarriage. I knew it was near-certain that she was going to find out about my baby when he was born the same way she found out about my wedding and I was worried that she would do something to take out the pain of her own infertility on me for getting pregnant so quickly (my son was born before my 1st anniversary), since she was still angry at me. She did end up sending a gift again but hasn’t tried to make contact since then, and she hasn’t mentioned anything online about me or my friend since that time that I’ve seen when I’ve done my checks, so it seems like maybe she’s finally moving on (that initial falling out was 6 years ago now). She also did end up having a baby.

But anyway no this has not impacted my willingness to befriend others because I can pretty safely assume that other people will not become literal stalkers even if something eventually happens to end our friendship, lol. None of this was normal behavior. The only lasting impact it has is that I still check up on her internet presence every so often to make sure she’s not starting up again.