#i spent.... like a whole week sketching these and then desperately lined and colored them all within like 12 hours yesterday lmao

[gumshoegoat]

M: You always take the fun out of recklessly consuming alcohol, Sam!

S: Sorry, little buddy, I’m trying to take the lawsuits out of “recklessly consuming alcohol”.....

A little late to finishing these before Sam’s birthday, so I thought I’d just post them on my own bday! I imagine that the freelance police don’t drink a lot, but whenever they do it becomes a competition. and also Max might interpret Sam’s songs a bit too seriously once he’s had a few too many lol. 

Fursona self insert garbage and freelance playlist under cut!

My old fursona turned Sam and Max self insert, Griffin Graham: Gumshoe Goat! They started out as a smalltime independent PI, eventually became a secretary for some local detectives in the belief they’d gain some more experience, and then ended up with a couple chuckleheads who actually just teach them more about doing crimes rather than solving them. I swear Griffin and Max don’t hate each other, quite the opposite actually; shitting on each other is just how they show affection

freelance police playlist! (feel free to give any recs)

[alyssadeliv]

The Forgotten One

First      Previous

Chapter 12

They were going to the zoo. Richard had decided that after two months of her living in the Manor it was time to have some family bonding time. It didn’t matter that most of her time in the last months was used to get to know her new extended family or get reacquainted with her old one. 

He was adamant that she needed the full Gothamite experience, so here they were on a Friday afternoon on a crowded metro, listening as the oldest one tried and explained how Metro’s worked to her. He was so happy, gesticulating and smiling, that she didn’t have the heart to tell him that she indeed knew how the metro worked, having lived in Paris for almost two full years.

After Damian, Richard was her favorite sibling, mostly because she had always seen him as a role model, as part of her training had been inspired by him and his trapeze maneuvers, but she did enjoy the warmth that she tended to feel when he was around. He was patient and had no problem explaining pop culture references to her. Not that she didn't enjoy spending time with her other siblings, it was just that Richard went out of his way to make her feel accepted.

Tim was a very busy person, and their interactions were reserved to 3 a.m. coffee hunts. He wasn’t bad, just closed off, and a little wary of her after his first experience with Damian. Not that she could blame him. But she was a bit closer to his girlfriend, Stephanie Brown, who would come to have dinner at the Manor every week. 

And there was Jason. She refused to address him as her brother, that would just be plain weird. After the initial shock of finding each other again had worn out, it had taken a few weeks for them to finally address the elephant in the room. She could tell that he had struggled with the news that she was Bruce’s biological daughter.

“Dick, maybe speed the lecture a bit so we can still get to the zoo before it closes.” Jason was leaning casually against a wall, finding this whole situation funny. He was wearing jeans and his red leather jacket, nothing special, but if she was honest he looked rather handsome. 

“It’s fine Jaybird, I was just wrapping it up!” He says with a smile, just in time for them to catch the next wagon. Because they spent at least 25 minutes listening to Richard’s lesson, the metro had emptied a bit so they were able to find seats. It was just the three of them, the others would meet them there, after being picked up by Alfred, Damian after school, and Timothy after a meeting. 

“So… I know Bruce said not to ask, but I’ve been dying to know…” Richard starts unsure, afraid to cross a line. They were lucky to score seats in the same section, she was seated with Jason by her side, with Richard in front of him facing them both. “But how exactly did you two meet, I mean it was obviously at… Tibet-'' He caught himself before he could out them as members of the League, you never knew who could be listening in their conversation, so better safe than sorry. “- but why do you know Jason, but Damian didn’t?” 

With a glance to the side, she was more than happy to allow Jason to explain that part. In the two months she lived at the Manor she saw how much they wanted to ask about their relationship, but kept their distance. Aside from Damian, they didn’t feel the need to inform the family about their past. 

“Well, Pixie Pop here was the one to train me for the duration of my time in the Temple. Kicked my ass more times than I can count.” He says with a smirk, while casually butting an arm on the back of her seat. “She taught me most of what I know”

“Most of it?” She was indignant, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions.

“To be fair B didn’t totally suck as a parent.” She knew that he and Father didn’t have the best relationship after he came back from his time at the League, but according to Damian, it used to be way worse, not that she would know. Richard seems content with their explanation and didn't demand more information, even if he desperately wanted to. He respects their boundaries, and that only makes her like him more.

When they got to the zoo, Damian and Timothy were already there, but surprisingly Stephanie had tagged along, so now she wasn’t the only female in the group anymore, not that she cared, but she liked her brother’s girlfriend so the surprise was appreciated. 

She had never been to the zoo before, just to see the attractions. The times she went to fight an Akuma did not count. It was a bit sad seeing all these animals stuck in a cage, and she could tell her brother felt the same. Damian always had a soft spot for animals, and would not tolerate if they were being mistreated. Not surprisingly, the Waynes made annual donations to the zoo to ensure that all the animals were well taken care of. When she first heard about that she was glad that Father cared about Damian’s interests enough to pay to support every zoo and animal shelter in the city. It helped ease her guilt for abandoning him for two years knowing that now she was not the only one who cared for him.

They spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the animals. And Dick was glad he chose to go to the zoo as a family bonding experience. When Damian first came into the family he had taken him there, after discovering that his younger brother absolutely adored animals and he was happy to see that Marianne liked it as well.  

Efficient as always, Alfred was already there waiting for them the minute they crossed the exit of the building. As she came to know, the men seemed to have a six sense when it came to all of them. Just by his aura, she could tell he wasn’t someone you wanted to cross, but she could see how much he loved each one of his grandchildren (because she could never kid herself to think of him any less than a Grandfather).

“I assume that today's activities were enjoyable.” The butler asks as he opens the back door of the limo for them. Richard enters first thanking the men.

“It was acceptable” Damian voices, as he too enters the vehicle.  

It was a bit of a ride, seeing that the Manor was almost outside of Gotham, but she didn’t mind. Seated between Richard and Damian she spent most of the journey chatting with everyone. But by the time they arrived at the house everyone was a bit tired, so dinner was a relatively small affair. But not uneventful, because as revenge for Bruce bailing on family day, the boys started sharing with her all the shenanigans of her father’s public persona, Brucie Wayne. It was amusing to see this new side to her father, always so reserved and serious. 

“If you are all finished sharing Master Bruce's embarrassing moments, I believe it is time for patrol.”  Alfred as always came to defuse the situation before it could implode. 

Because she spent most of the last two years fighting almost every single day, she decided that she needed some rest from her hero lifestyle. Even after her father asked if she would like to accompany them on patrols, she decided to turn it down for now. So while her family directed themselves to the cave, she made her way into her suite. 

It was a beautiful room. Although the color scheme wasn’t something she would have picked herself, it fit with the furniture rather nicely, and her artist side appreciated that. The room itself was simple, but the red colors and the dark wood made the room seem cozier than it was. With a double bed with a canopy, two bedside tables, a vanity with a mirror, and a wardrobe, it had everything she needed. Her Father had encouraged her to decorate her room the way she wanted, and she had been tempted to do so, but ultimately decided to wait until she settled into her role as a family member before she went and added more change to the mix. What she had been very close to doing was adding a desk so she could draw and design, but after she discovered that there was a big one in the library just a few doors from her room, she dismissed the idea.  

Quickly she showered and changed into something more comfortable than her street attire, before exiting the room and making her way into the library. It wasn’t as big as the one downstairs, but it had a big balcony that overlooked the gardens, so she liked to just sit in a shadow and sketch away. Damian had been kind enough to spare one of his unused sketchbooks and some pencils, knowing that she liked to draw just as much as he did. She leaned forward into the railing resting her arms and head, but still looking upwards.

The sun had already set, and she was glad that they were far enough away from the city that she could see some stars in the sky. Having lived in Paris, she had really missed all the stars she could see at night from her home on the League. One of her studies had been about the Astros, so she spent a lot of time as a kid contemplating the skies. 

“It’s going to rain soon” A voice comes from behind her. Without having to turn around she knew who it was. A smile appears on her face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for patrol?” She asks, straightening her body, but still not turning around. She could feel the person getting closer to her until she felt a presence at her side. 

“That’s the whole point. It's gonna rain.” He carries a hint of humor in his tone “And besides I prefer to keep you company, Pretty Girl. Besides, I believe Red Hood deserves one night off. The guy has been working hard.” He jokes.

With a smile she finally faces him. He had showered and changed, and without his red jacket, he looked so relaxed. It reminded her of their time in the League. Like that he looked so much like the angry boy she helped train. So young and while broken, so full of life and fight in him. He smirks at her but turns his face upwards to look at the night. 

“You always did love the stars.” He commented, not looking at her. “It’s sad that here you can't see them as much.” 

“It’s not that bad. In Paris, you couldn't see any. It was sad, but to be fair the whole city more than compensated for that. It’s beautiful there.” She recalled all the times she went on a midnight stroll around the city, just enjoying the architecture. “I could spend eternity drawing all the details in the buildings.” 

“Do you miss it?” He asks, looking at her. His tone is neutral, but by his body language, she can tell he’s anxious for her answer. She had always been good at reading him, and she was glad that their time apart had not changed that. 

“In a way…” 

She sighs.

“I liked the city, but I spent most of my time there fighting and training. Not much different from before. It was like everything changed but was still the same. To be completely honest… I miss our time at the League the most.” She confesses but hurriedly continues. “Don’t get me wrong, it was hard! But still… at the same time…”

“I get it.” He interrupts her. He has a small side smile, and the dimples on his face make her want to freeze this moment and draw him so she could eternalize him. Instead, she gets closer to him, seeking comfort in his presence at her side. He embraces her. Securing her in his arms, her body pressed against his, her head buried in his chest.

It was funny to think that the most capable woman to take care of herself he knew, chose to be vulnerable around him. It made him feel loved.

“I miss it too.” He whispered in her ear. She raises her head, just enough that she can see his face without removing herself from his arms. Staying like this reminds her of all the nights he used to sneak into her chambers. And they would talk and hold each other for hours. It felt like it was just yesterday the first time he got the better of her.

“Focus!” She yelled while landing a kick at his unprotected left side. “You are unbalanced- in three moves I could have you on the ground again” She punched him to his right, but he was able to block her and tried to deliver a punch of his own. His knuckles were bloodied, and he knew that in the morning his ribs would hurt. But at this moment he was high on adrenaline. She dodged. 

They were training for what felt like hours. But both were too stubborn to ask for the fight to end. 

But just as promised, in three more moves he was on the ground. He tried to get back on his feet to continue with the fight but was stopped by a foot on his torso.

“That’s enough.” She helps him to get on his feet. “You were great! You could have overpowered me so many times! I left you so many openings!” She laughs. This was routine for them. After a fight, Marianne was usually so pumped with adrenaline that she spoke at a mile per hour. “We really need to work on your tactics this week. Oh! You also need to improve your stance, you’ve been favoring your right side too much. I know your ribs hurt but you still need to protect your body as a whole.” She comments only stopping to take a large sip of water. “Well, I am spent.”

“You’re spent? I’m the one that has been eating dirt for the whole hour!” He complains indignantly. She tossed a water bottle in his direction, which he grabs and happily finishes in a single gulp.

“Just another reason you need to study more!” She grins. And turns to exit the room, and while walking to the door turns to him again. 

“See you in a bit” She winks. 

When they meet again they are in her room. She’s seated on the bed sketching some view, while Jason sits on the floor sharpening his knife. They chat casually for some time, but ultimately end speaking about their training session earlier. 

“That move would have totally worked!” He exclaims, knife long forgotten he now kneels facing her bed. 

“There’s where you are wrong, you need strength on your fist on both sides to push my torso, otherwise I would easily be able to doge only one. You need two punches at different sides in succession for you to distract your opponent!” She explains in a hurry. Her thoughts jumped around her head. 

“No way! If it’s strong enough, only one is needed!” He argues.

Worked up she threw her notebook to the side, forgotten. In a second she was up, signaling for him to do the same.

“There is no way. Stand there, pretend to be in stance.” She directs, and without a second thought, he complies. “Okay, so I come for your right side first, you are stronger there.” 

Her movements are slowed, as she demonstrates the move. “That’s going to distract you, and keep you focused on your stronger side, leaving your weaker one unprotected.” She shows him where he left an opening for her. “So all I need to do now is strike again, focusing more strength now. Either a punch or a kick would do the trick.” As she goes to demonstrate her point, he grabs the incoming slow punch and pulls her into his body. 

Unprepared she loses her balance, falling into his chest. In a second he secures her with his other arm, keeping her in his embrace. She feels her face burning with embarrassment. He caught her by surprise, and she felt ashamed.

“Hey that wasn't fai-” But he silences her, bringing his face closer to hers and giving her a heated kiss. It lasts for some time, but when they finally separate themselves he has a grin on his face.

“Just to be clear, I knew the move wouldn’t have worked. You just look cute when you're angry.” 

And before she can protest he shuts her up with another kiss.

So this is by far the biggest chapter! Hope ya’ll like it! We finally get the story behind Jason and Marianne. Let me know what you think!

Next

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[datsrightbby]

Marko + David (TLB) x Fem!Reader

Insatiable Habits

Warnings: NSFW/Smut, cursing, voyeurism, threesome

It had started off as subtle teasing at first, the kinda stuff that made you blush. Like, a gloved hand skimming your thigh and creating shapes across the exposed skin, or a lingering kiss on your neck, and the occasional whisper in your ear that had you burning crimson red and burying your face into the crook of his neck. It was the minute his palm went that bit higher on your thigh, the minute his thumb ghosted over your clothed crotch, did you start feeling flustered to the point of rubbing your legs together in need of friction. 

Not often did you and the boys stay back at the cave the whole night, but tonight was one of those rare occurrences when all of you were content staying in. David took full opportunity, of course, and kept you on his lap. The night had just begun to seep into early hours of the morning, which reminded you -

"Don't you guys need...food?" It's not as though you were ignorant to the fact of what they were, it was more so you'd refused to fully wrap your head around the idea that the four guys you met, one now your boyfriend and mate, were violent in any way. Though if you could avoid talking about it, or thinking about it for that matter, then you'd be okay. 

"Dude, I’m starving -" 

" - Yeah we should leave before the sun starts coming up." Marko remarked, putting down his sketch book and standing up to tug his discarded jacket on. You went to move off David, but his hand on your hip kept you in place on top of him, the subtle gesture telling you that he planned on staying with you. The boys gave you both a once over as they headed toward the stairs, smirks decorating their features at the sight. 

"Guess David's passing up tonight for some other kinda food." Paul hollered and Dwayne sent you a wink, which internally made you roll your eyes, but you grinned back at them anyway. Marko had hestitantly headed towards the steps after them, albeit a few strides behind -

"Marko!" There was a pause as Marko's attention turned back around to David, eyes skimming across your figure before focusing intently on the man who's lap you resided. 

"Stay." It wasn't a question, it was a demand, and Marko didn't seem to have much to say about the ordeal. You couldn't pinpoint why David had asked Marko to stay behind as it was implied, from both the endless teasing and staying behind, that the two of you were gonna do a little more than some heavy petting. David reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter, lighting it in one attempt and taking a deep intake, exhaling toward the ceiling as to not get smoke all over you. 

Marko had resided back to the couch, while you and David shifted against each other, you placing little kisses on his jaw as he blew smoke toward the ceiling again. 

"Why did you ask Marko to stay behind?" You whispered lowly, hoping he couldn't hear. 

"I have an idea." It was all he said before dipping his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, your head fell back and you let out a low, breathy moan as he rubbed languid circles against you. The cigarette he lit hung loosely from his lips, ash falling onto his lap haphazardly. In the corner you heard Marko shift in place and you panicked, reminding yourself of his presence and trying to pry yourself away from David's fingers, which had now entered you and pumped in and out a few times. There was no reaction from Marko other than staring at the sight in front of him, though you were sure he wasn't expecting to see David’s fingers working sinfully against you when he looked up from his previous activity.

"Relax kitten, I know what I'm doing." You looked up at him in both shock and confusion, but didn't question his motives, he'd never done you any harm before and you trusted David. Perhaps, if you hadn't been so worked up from his endless teasing all night, things would be different under the same circumstance, but that was neither here nor there. Relaxing into his touch, opting to close your eyes and focus on the feelings rather then the wandering eyes, you allowed for the situation to continue.

"Let us hear you -" David's voice growled in your ear and you moaned explicitly, louder than you had expected.

"That's my girl." You whimpered and bucked your hips up into the palm of his hand, knowing he was smirking down at you right now. 

Your arousal laid thick in the air to the vampires, it was sweet and intoxicating, and Marko swallowed thickly at the scent of it. Just when you felt as though your high may have been approaching, David pulled out and sucked on his fingers, licking off any trace you'd left on them. Marko watched you intensely, eyes lingering on any exposed skin they could get too. You felt erotic and filthy, but in the best way possible. The way the two looked at you sent goosebumps flying across your skin, it was as though you were the prey and they were the wolves, every fleck of color in their eyes had turned to black in desire and need, and you knew where this was headed simply by how they stared at you. On somewhat shaky legs you stood from your spot on David's lap, he waved his hand in Marko’s direction as if to tell you to go over to him -

“Remember you’re still mine.” Nodding, you thumbed over his jaw before sauntering over to Marko, who'd watched your every step approach him. In a surge of confidence you placed your hand on his shoulder, laying him back against the couch, sitting on his crotch with your thighs either side of him. You grind against him slightly, noting that his cock was already hard as sin. Marko let you have your fun, looking over to David who only watched while smoking the remains of his smoke, with a nod from his leader he had all the knowledge he needed of the situation. This wasn’t planned, but Marko was aware David knew of his feelings for you and it seemed he was letting him indulge a little. Instantly he had spun you both over, thrusting against you, a moan skipping past your lips. You'd been teased all night, so feeling his erection right where you needed him most, well, it was heavenly almost. 

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this." Marko teased your neck with kisses and nips, his eyes closed and he inhaled your scent; the way your hair smelled, the arousal between your legs, the perfume you wore, you were intoxicating and it's no wonder David could never keep his hands off you. Who could resist you?  

David had long stubbed out the rest of his cigarette as he watched the two of you toy with each other and tease, he watched as Marko whispered dirty things in your ear and how you replied with giggles, and he soon unzipped his fly and freed himself of the restraints his cock was behind, stroking himself at the sight of the two of you. This wasn't just because he knew you found Marko cute, or the fact that he knew Marko had been in love with you since he met you, no, this was David's fantasy too. 

It didn't seem long before Marko had ripped your clothing off of you, you'd responded with as much fervor. His hands roamed every inch of you in eagerness, he relished in the soft curves of your body and the way you shivered beneath him. It seemed too good to be true, having you here now was better than he had ever imagined. Marko kissed down your body, nipping here and there, which caused him to grin up at you every time you jumped. He stared at you for a moment, breath heavy and chest heaving, eyes pleading with you -

“Please let me have a taste?”

You weren’t sure if it was a question for you or David, but you’d instantly whined out a ‘yes’ and he wasted no time working against you. His tongue teased your clit in circular motions and you shook underneath his grip on your thighs, hips moving up against his mouth in need of more friction. The desperateness of the night took over you; David’s consistent teasing since you’d arrived, your forgotten orgasm from David’s fingers, and now Marko’s tongue wickedly lapping against you, you couldn’t help but huff out in neediness. Your head lolled to the side and noted David palming himself through his jeans, it appeared he was enjoying this just as much as you and Marko. A bite on your thigh had your attention back on the curly haired blonde in between your legs in an instant, he grinned and delved further into your wetness, giving you the relief you’d been craving.

“Use your fingers, she likes that.” Per David’s request Marko’s middle and index finger entered you and your head fell back against the couch, hands holding his head in place as his tongue roughly explored every inch of you. You couldn’t help the curse words that slipped, and the slap on your thigh because of it had you whimpering. 

“I - I think I’m gonna cum” Marko only sped up his ministrations, adding another finger inside you, stretching you out, he played with the spot that had you shaking the most until your body was overtook in blissful release. Never once did he stop, even as your hands attempted to tear him off of your spent body, he continued until he was sure the taste of you was burned into his memory. His body moved up you once again, claiming your mouths together in a sloppy kiss, the taste of your arousal still heavy on his tongue. His mouth moved from yours to you ear -

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel me inside you for a week.” he whispered so possessively it had you clenching around nothing and praying he’d live up to the promise. The sound that came out of you was borderline pornographic, though you were beyond modesty at this point. Marko lined himself up with your entrance, looking down at you for silent permission, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close, his cock slipping into you with ease and stretching you out deliciously. Between Marko’s moan and your choked sob, you knew you were gonna crave the feeling of him being inside you for weeks after,  he was inside you raw, and he took a moment in awe to rejoice the feeling of you, knowing it was probably the only time he'd ever get to have this experience, and he wasn't about to let this go to waste. He was going to fuck you so good you'd remember it forever, remember him forever. The pace he set was fast with deep, hard thrusts that had you clawing at the couch underneath you to keep you still. Your mouth hung open from the intense feeling of him pounding into you, your lips spewing out a mantra of curses and Marko's name. 

“Do I fuck you good baby?" You moaned louder at his words, trying to find the will in you to focus on anything other than his cock filling you to the brim with every movement of his hips. When you didn't answer him, he opted to slap your thigh, an echo wondering around the cave because of it. 

"Tell me."

"Y-yes - you feel amazing- ugh" 

Your head coaxed to the side, noticing David had now freed himself and was stroking his cock to the same pace Marko fucked you at. "Oh fuck -"

You didn't know who to look at; Marko fucking you into next week, or David getting off to the sight of you being fucked. It was overwhelmingly sexy having the two men desire you so greatly, being shared between them made you feel powerful. 

David watched your thighs flex around Marko’s torso, the way you threw your head back in pure pleasure, how Marko’s cock disappeared between your legs over and over again. He stood and sauntered over to the two of you, placing his cock at the tip of your mouth, asking for entrance into your, all too willing, mouth. You happily accepted and took as much of him as you could fit at once, though David soon had a hand on the back of your head and his hips thrusting his cock into your mouth. All you could do was relax and let him take you, forcing yourself to hold back chokes and spit as he fucked your throat with ease, all while Marko rammed his painfully hard cock into you, your thigh now over his shoulder and the new angle allowing him to be so deep inside you it hurt, in the most pleasurably painful way. It wasn’t long before you felt your second orgasm build up, the aftershocks of the last one still lingering and causing you to tremble against the two men ravishing you, tears spilled from your eyes as Marko fucked you through it. Soon your body was convulsing and shuddering underneath them, David’s cock still deep down your throat, and Marko’s deep inside you. You clung onto Marko’s shoulders for dear life, heat spreading throughout your entire body and turning you numb as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensations, both of them were close, from Marko’s messy pace to David’s twitching cock, you moaned around him to spur him along, while Marko chanted out in whines as his release approached -

“Don’t you dare cum inside her.” Marko did as he was told and pulled out quickly, spilling himself all over your stomach, David soon cumming down your throat and making you deep throat him as you swallowed every last drop, you grabbed his thigh and squeezed, a sign that you needed to stop and relax a minute, which he did immediately, tucking himself back into his pants and leaning down to your eye level. 

“Are you okay kitten?” You nodded, noting how your body ached from the rough actions it had endured. Marko placed a kiss on your cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. “You sure? I can get you anything you need.” You gave him a weak smile and stroked his cheek, trying to reassure him as best you could that you were, indeed, fine, but fucked out. 

The boys helped clean you up and take you over to the make shift nest David had built you a few months prior. Though, one question lingered in your mind. Where does your relationship go from here?

[daydream-believin]

Flowers Have Feelings

summary: it's valentines and you're making some gifts for your good pal douxie,,, also confessing

warnings: swearing probably, no proofread cause tired

word count: 2659

a/n: i've been struggling with writers block. i guess. i've returned to this only to write like, a paragraph so many times. which is bad cause like cheese designed the bouqeut and this should have been done ages ago. idk idk bon appetit

tags: @yagirlcheesely, is for you

image below: sketch of the bouquet

You jumped out of bed and slammed your alarm. Today was the day. You had to get everything ready today. Tonight would be the presentation. The night you finally do it. The night you confessed to your closest friend and crush, Douxie. Also happened to be Valentine’s day.

Your friends may have told you: “Just be patient. Drop hints. If he likes you, he’ll let you know.” But you weren’t about that passive love life. You liked to grab that strawberry cow by the horns. Subtly was boring and took far too long. You were in love with your friend and you were gonna let him know frankly if it killed you. It probably would, to be honest.

As confident as this makes you sound, you were aware of the possibility of him not liking you back, and that was okay. Sure, your heart would be shattered and you might not be very peachy for, say, a month or six, but you accepted that. At first, you had resigned yourself to just adoring him secretly. But you quickly grew impatient with that. What were you afraid of, really? Him letting you down gently, and ushering you two into an era of awkwardness? Okay so maybe that was worth considering. But not really. You wouldn’t let it come to that. Even if he did turn you down, you weren’t about to let that fact taint your friendship like that. You two were very close, and Douxie wasn’t the kind of guy to suddenly treat you differently after such a thing. Just a few weeks of awkwardness at most before all was forgotten (on his end at least). Only a problem for you. But, boy, it would be really, really nice, and not awkward, if he reciprocated.

You and Douxie were thick as thieves. There wasn’t a thing you hadn’t told each other. Not a secret between a pair of buddies as close as you. Oh, one thing, you know. The fact that you had caught feelings, that was definitely something you had kept secret from him. As eager as you were to do so, you couldn’t just drop a bombshell like that at any old time. That’s why you chose today of all days to confess; a little extra luck from St. Valentine. A little magic to give you a boost, placebo or not. This was going to happen. This was going to work.

You strapped on your helmet, safety first, before heading out on your bike. You cleared your schedule for the day cause you weren’t really sure if everything would work out or not. You could have everything done and ended wrapped up neatly in a few hours, or you could have a complete disaster on your hands, which could take up all your time. Time you would happily give, since you were determined for everything to be perfect. It was also nice to know you didn’t have to come in to work later,, lest you spend the whole night, crying your eyes out. You shuddered at the possibility. You were gonna stop thinking about that now. Yeah, only confidence now.

You may be a teensy bit sleep deprived. Only a teensy bit. You chugged a monster this morning, you’ll be fine. It wasn’t your fault you were up all night researching flower language. There were so many flowers, and those flowers had so many feelings. Eventually though, you managed to settle on a bouquet of roses, daisies, and dandelions. Fern leaves for greenery too. Greenery was important for flower arrangements. It tied the whole thing together. While it wouldn’t be the most on theme color scheme, the yellows, whites, reds, and greens, would mix together prettily. You definitely didn’t have to go as far as this, and you were banking on the fact that Douxie even knew flower language, but it was sweet, it was romantic. And you were going to be romantic about this, dammit.

Daisies, for friendship. It was really important that you communicate just how much you valued Douxie’s friendship and how nothing would change between you two if he were to not return your feelings. Red, red roses, classic romance. There was a reason the blooms were so strongly associated with the valentines holiday itself; no one sees a red rose and thinks of anything other than love and romance. A clear message to your beloved. And well, the dandelions? Cheery, beautiful, resilient, common weeds, never to be approved of, finding the strength to bloom despite assholes like Merlin’s best efforts. Dandelions were Douxie’s favorite flower.

Too bad the florist didn’t even consider them to be anything but said common weed. You had included them in your order when you called it in and you could hear the florist laugh, but muffled as if he put his hand over the receiver, before returning to the phone to inform you that you would have to add them yourself. Pretty rude, if you say so. No matter, hand-picked dandelions would be romantic, anyways. Even if no one else knew about it but you.

You placed the bouquet neatly into the basket of your bike. You’d pick the dandelions to complete it later, right before the big confession, in order to keep them fresh. But as of now, the bouquet peaked out of your basket, the floral fragrance wafting up to your face as you made your way to the next store.

Last week, you had seen such an adorable little box of chocolates. It had chocolates shaped like little skulls, flowers, and ghost cats, and the box had a silly pun about death. Goth chocolate, def. It would have been perfect for the edgy wizard in your life, but alas, it was way too fucking expensive. Like obscenely expensive. But no matter, you’d just steal the idea. How hard could making chocolate be anyway?

You left the grocery store with your haul safe in your skull-patterned reusable shopping bag. Wizard-chic and eco-friendly, it was your favorite bag. The contents of the much-loved bag? Melting chocolates, a jar of marmalade, a jar of raspberry jam, a jar of strawberry jam, and a new roll of wax paper, since you were out. Now you weren’t as ambitious as to make your own jam here. This was a failsafe. There are only so many ways to ruin chocolates if you did not make the chocolate nor the filling yourself. Now just a quick run in the stationary shop on your way home for a cute box, and you were all ready to start your chocolatier career.

 * * *

Douxie was getting antsy. Not many patrons had paid a visit to his bookstore this afternoon. Which was strange for valentine’s. and it left him with nothing but his thoughts to entertain his anxious mind. Doux had a lot to worry about. His band had a gig in a new town, so he wasn’t sure how they would be received. He was waiting on a shipment of books that was supposed to show up days ago. It may have gotten lost. That Lake kid was getting himself into more and more trouble these days and it was starting to become hard to help out without overstepping his vaguely imposed bounds. But most of all, at the very moment, he was worried about you.

You had asked him to meet up for dinner tonight. Okay, pretty normal for a Sunday night. Not that the weekend meant anything to either of you, but you normally set aside Sunday for dinner hangout. So nothing to abnormal. But then. Then, you said, something… Douxie actually can’t recall what you said, per se, just that it was along the lines of “we need to talk.” And that your tone sounded nervous. He did not like that one bit, nope nope. He had spent a great part of the day just revisiting every interaction the two of you had had in the last month or so, desperate to figure out if he did something wrong. But he was coming up blank, for all his efforts. Across the room, the clock ticked on. It would be closing time soon enough, and then he’d no longer have to wonder just what he did wrong, as you would be there to tell him directly. Fuzzbuckets, he couldn’t wait.

* * *

You wiped the goopy chocolate off of your cheek with the back of your hand. So far this wasn’t a total disaster. You had at least seven chocolate skulls filled and drying in the molds. The white chocolate seemed to have melted smoother than the regular chocolate? The regular chocolate ones looked kind of lumpy. You hoped they came out of the molds okay. Not to mention the ones you already messed up. A little mountain of chocolate pieces and jam had started rising from your table top corner.

It had been lots of fun at the start. melting the chocolates with a double boil, planning out which molds would be which flavors. But actually filling those molds? A messy, messy ordeal. You had chocolate and jam all over your kitchen, up to your exposed elbows, and even a little in your hair. But that was okay. You’d clean the kitchen later. With the molds in the freezer to set, your priority now was cleaning yourself up rather than the kitchen.

And you cleaned up nice, if you did say so yourself. You got the chocolate out of your hair, and had on a fresh outfit, taking a little time to put effort into your style. You looked snazzy, but not too fancy. You needed to stay casual. Something that you hoped would make Douxie be like ‘wow they look pretty okay’ but not freak him out with formality. Yeah. This was good.

Your watch beeped. Okay, you needed to get out of here, no more dilly dallying. You pulled the candies you made out of the freezer. Moment of truth. Thank the stars, all of the chocolates came out of the molds smoothly without breaking. You arranged them in the cute circular box you set up earlier and folded the tissue paper over them. They all fit in perfectly. The cheesy valentine card, the most important part, didn’t quite fit on top of the candies, you’d have to put it with the bouquet. You slid the lid onto the box and fastened a bow around it with a blue ribbon. Maybe this was a bit overkill, but Douxie knew how to appreciate the dramatic. He’d love it, you were sure.

Last but not least, you headed to the greenspace across the street from your apartment for the final ingredient in your Douxie wooing, dandelions. You were lucky that the empty lot had recently bloomed an entire garden’s worth of the yellow things. The chilly breeze mussed up your newly-fixed hair as you danced about gathering the tiny flowers, adding to the bouquet until you felt like it was enough. Which took longer than you had hoped. You definitely could have kept adding in more dandelions but your watch beeped once again and you had no choice but to make peace with the level of yellow and book it to the bookstore where you and Douxie were supposed to meet before heading out for the night.

* * *

Hearing the ding of the door chime, Douxie turned around to kindly inform the customer who came in that he wasn’t open, but the words caught in his throat when he was met with your smile. There you were, standing in the shop with a box in one hand and flowers in the other. You looked cute. Really cute. But Douxie chased that thought away. He fumbled with the book he had been re-shelving. It fell out of his hand unceremoniously, landing with a thud.

“Hey,” Doux managed to get out. “What’s all-”

“These are for you!” you shoved the presents into his now empty hands. That courage you had earlier? Gone. Your resolve? Dissolving as we speak. You had to get this over with before you chickened out. He was just so good, okay. And why did you think this was a good idea. Douxie looked down at the gifts in his hands confused, before blushing. If he could have reached a hand behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck he would have.

“I didn’t know we were doing Valentine’s, uh. I feel bad I didn’t get you anything.”

“Oh! Don’t be. I just,, felt like doing something nice for you and uh, special,” Douxie tilted his head. You took the box, freeing up his hand. “These are chocolates I made, like, like you’re supposed to do.” You waltzed over to the counter to place them out of the way. “The bouquet is the real star here, uh, I picked them out very carefully.” You tucked your arms behind your back. “I, uh- I brushed up on flower language, and I hope I got it right.”

Now Douxie may have been a Victorian once upon a time but he had barely any surviving memory of the frilly flower language people socialized through in those days. But thankfully, the blooms in the bouquet in front of him were straight forward enough that he did in fact get the message without taking too much gear turning in that noggin of his. Although, the friendly daisies with the red roses were kind of sending him some mixed signals. He knew what he wanted them to mean, but he could just be misinterpreting. You seemed to notice his hesitation.

“Um, there’s a card too. In the flowers somewhere. That. Probably explains what I’m trying to say a little clearer.” You carded your fingers through your hair. You had anticipated not being able to really speak with your voice, as you barely could now, so you’d written it all out on the card as backup. But damn, that card had everything on it. You maybe got a little carried away. There wasn’t going to be any going back from this.

Douxie dug out the card from amidst the blooms. It was handmade, with a cheesy little drawing on the front complete with a pun. And then he opened it. It was almost solid black with ink. Yeah, you had written that much in there. Both sides. And a little on the back. Wow. Doux tried his best to keep up a poker face while reading it but failed quickly as the first few lines alone left him flushed. It was true, everything was on it. From how much you adored Douxie as a person, to how much you valued his friendship, to how pretty you thought he was, to how you longed for something more, with him? Douxie felt like his hands were getting the card all sweaty.

It was nerve wracking watching him read that card. It seemed like he was finished, since his eyes stopped raking through it, but now he was staring intensely at the words written on the pages, in a trance. He broke focus, looking to the bouquet, back to the card, and then finally settled on you.

“Wow.”

“… is that a good wow?”

Douxie caught you by surprise. He pulled into a hug. “Yeah, a good wow.”

You and Douxie’s first non-platonic hug? Yes please. You didn’t even mind the flowers pressing into your back. Okay so a few rose thorns were poking you but that was fine. Douxie smelled like something you couldn’t name, but it was spicy, and cozy. He let you go sooner than you were ready to, but he grinned at you as he left to rummage through his things in the back for a vase. He turned to you as he proudly displayed them on the store’s counter, right where he could look at them all workday,

“So, where are we going tonight? For our first date?” Doux chuckled, “and, technically, our first Valentine’s day too.”

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in  hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn’t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 17

Living with the Cowell's is going about as well as you'd expected it to go. In other words it's more or less a disaster for your mental health. Which is ironic considering you didn't put this much stress on yourself when you were sure a stalker was watching you.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the stalker didn't own your house and wasn't in your personal space at every turn.

You'd honestly been expecting Little Jo to be the biggest space invader but Dia and Nate were constantly hovering around you. Nate had taken up the other spare room, or rather his room away from home, the minute he heard you'd be staying with the Cowells. He's made it his job drive you to and from work for the past two days and you both take breaks together now closing the store when you do. Then the second you cross the threshold Dia is right by you either asking for some help cooking or rushing you off for hobby time in the sitting room. It's like living in a 1920's story book, minus the extreme prejudice you would've faced.

It's only been two days and you can't find a way to ask for more space. You tried asking to go on a walk earlier and it turned into a partial jog with Nate. You really just need a moment to yourself it's been five or six days since you last had some 'me' time. All your nerves are shot and you are just a few minor inconveniences away from snapping at someone.

And it would not be a smart idea to nap at your boss. Your boss who's been so considerate and helpful offering his support to you through this whole mess of a situation.

Nonetheless you need space and your own clothes. Nate's don't fit you properly and they're uncomfortably itchy against your skin. His detergent is also very smelly, more in the chemical sense than in a bad sense. Though it could be a bad sense considering the headache you've had the past day from the over bearing smell. You know it won't end well for you but you desperately need to go back home and grab your own clothes and maybe even your car.

Having the illusion of more freedom would put you more at ease.

After all it isn't like you want to knowingly put yourself in harms way, you just can't stand the suffocation any longer. That's why you decided to bring it up during dinner, and why you are now sat in the tensest atmosphere this table has possibly ever experienced.

“Installation ain't done yet.” is Big Jo's gruff response.

It's as if that short sentence gave everyone premission to breathe again.

“I'm not planning to stay, I just need my own clothes.” you press.

Nate glances over to you before placing his fork to the side, “Then why do you need your car?”

“I'd just feel more comfortavle if I had it.....y'know instead of just relaying on you for rides.” you gesture around to the table trying to get someone yo come to your defense.

Big Jo pinches the bridge of his nose, it's been a stressful week for him as well. You don't mean to be ungrateful in this scenario but you are Autistic and the routine you've spent months carving out for yourself is being ruined. You are wearing smelly itchy clothes and need to have something you have control over. Not to mention you're the one who actively experienced the home invasion and were sat in a hospital for two days.

Big Jo can deal with you asking to go collect your thing, as far as you're concerned anyway. You're at least entitled to that much.

Dia puts her hand on Jo's arm and he sighs, “Fine, if Nate takes you. You can go to the cottage.”

“Tio, they can't have the car.” Nate is wildly failing his arms and motioning to you as he explains that you're a known flight risk.

Great, nothing's been resolved and you are back to a tense dinner in the Cowell's home.

“Fine I won't take the car, just lemme give it to someone to watch it for the...the what's it gonna be a week?” directing the question to Big Jo who's been handling the security detail for your home.

He gestures in a so-so manner.

“Yea, just lemme give it to someone to watch for the week.” you pause before throwing your hand up, “Because let's face it none of us have any idea where those two are now, and they could've easily tampered with my car.”

That was the worst possible thing to say because the second you finish you sentence the table erupts into chaos. Dia and Little Jo voicing their concerns over you driving your car, Big Jo and Nate all but forbidding you from driving and you trying to find some sort of compromise.

“What if we had it towed to Whistle's? Nate takes me there after work and we make sure nothing's wrong with my car.” looking around the table at the mixed reactions before you.

“I'll call Lewis for a tow in the morning and you both can go after work.”

“thank you.” you say relieved that you can finally gain back control over your life. Maybe get a little bit of space a long with it.

Everyone calms down and goes back to eating. The air is still so tense you could practically cut it but without your constant stirring it seems to settle. The rest of the night goes by uneventfully, you've changed into some pajamas and are ready to lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours.

The antsy energy you've been building up these past few days have left you without sleep. Tomorrow the hallucinations will probably start up, you wonder if they'll be worse thanks to your healing concussion. Hallucinations aside, your real problem is being alone with your thoughts for the next seven or eight hours.

You have nothing to occupy your mind with and thus nothing to help block out the invasive thoughts.

You'd finished the TAZ graphic novels while you were still at the hospital. The Cowells had taken you straight to their home after you got discharged, so you hadn't been able to grab your switch or any smaller art supplies.

Ultimately knowing that all this was for your safety and benefit you understand them wanting to keep you away from your home. The sight of you attack. Even a supply run could prove dangerous. Try telling that to your restless and bored mind. Constantly feeling like one of the undead wandering around aimlessly with no real purpose has certainly not done anything good for your mental health The lack of stimulation was definitely making it harder to mask and not just explode in  frustration. To just let loose and rage at everything: from the situation to your stalkers, hell even to Jo and yourself. The after the brief flash of rage it would be washed away by the overwhelming guilt you felt about being in this web and dragging everyone around you into it. Whether directly or indirectly.

Safe to say, it is not good to be alone with your thoughts right now.

And it is with that restless energy that your night of staring at the ceiling turns into a morning of staring at the ceiling. Until a knock at your door signals the start of breakfast. A routine you've recently become apart of while staying with the Cowells. Getting ready for the day you make your way to the dining room, not before steadying your nerves and static filled mind with a long and drawn out huff of air.

Not quite cathartic enough to be viewed as a sigh.

And with that you begin you day.

The morning fades into late afternoon and you find yourself in the shop a little before close, just looking through the isles. A vaguely human figure, much too tall to truly be an actual person, had brushed past Nate and into one of the isles. Honestly you're sure it's one of your hallucinations but you still have to double check the isles before you finish locking up the shop. Today had been really slow and you can only recall a handful of patrons throughout the day, though you haven't been with it enough to actually hace much accuracy on that statement.

Nevertheless you are searching for stragglers, thankfully you find none. Really hoping to get out and to Whistle's soon, then home to grab things that'll keep you occupied. Things that are finally yous; actual comfortable clothes, that smell like you too. Eyes blinking in rapid succession at your near giddy nerves.

For once your tic helps you vision, you're able to catch the book laid on its side. Its cover a deep russet nearly matching the shelf in color, you'd have missed it if it weren't for the inverted shapes that pressed themselves into your eyelids almost burning the scenery into your memory. Picking the book up you try to discern where it had come from.

Upon further inspection it appeared to be more of a journal. Half written in English with margins made out it – was that German? Yeah that was definitely German, the Eszetts is way too distinctive for it to be any other language. Poorly drawn out sketches littered several pages as you flip past them. Until you see a familiar but scrathy image. It's of a symbol a circle with an 'x' through it.

As you look at the jagged lines you can't really place where you've seen this symbol before. It's so familiar but the ringing bells do nothing to help you remember where you've seen this symbol. Flipping further in you catch sight of a drawing of a being that is slim and taller than the trees. Wasn't that the figure you'd seen moments before? Right as you were doing you check for customers? You're beginning to think this shop's haunted.

“Hey YN, coast clear?” The sound of Nate's voice stops you from inspecting the book any further.

Placing it back on the shelf and nestling it in between to larger books you turn and head out of the isle.

“Yea, no customers.”

“C'mon then, I don't want to be out all night.”

Rolling your eyes at Nate's exaggeration, Whistle's probably wouldn't take more than an hour tops and you won;t take long gathering your things from the house – you follow Nate out the door.

Waiting close behind him as he locks up. One thing about the attack is you've become hyper aware of your surroundings and are nearly always on high alert now when you're out in the open like this. Luckily in most spaces you had already noted the number of exits and where to find them. Having to plan escape routes ahead of emergencies might not be the healthiest mentality but it's kept you sane throughout this ordeal. Thank you American public school system.

When you get to the auto shop you see a familiar ticcing brunette talking to a group of mechanics as he leans on your car.

“Who the hell is that?” Nate says squinting at Toby who's practically laid out across the hood of your car.

Weird, haven't they met yet? Toby did hang out at the shop for an entire day. Had Nate not noticed him then? What about the picnic? Before you can say anything Nate's already out of the car and shouting something to the group. Most of the men standing around tense up as Nate storms up to them.

But you catch the dead look in Toby's eye, the other is still horribly out of commission. Honestly without your glasses faces blur from so far away but it's undeniable that there isn't a light reflecting in his eye. Nate seems to be directing his lecture to Toby who doesn't appear to do anything. He's like a big old house cat, tired and done with everyone's shit if they aren't actively feeding him.

Sighing you exit the car, your only real thought is defusing your Karen.

You aren't at all surprised when Toby locks onto the movement of you walking towards the group. The man perks right up and lifts himself off your car in one fluid motion. He's so agile, just like a cat. You can't help but smile a bit at the connection automatically reaffirming with yourself that Toby would totally push over a precariously placed glass of water.

“Hey, wh-mrrow-what'd you bring the car in for?” Toby asks side stepping Nate, completely ignoring the older man.

“Huh – oh, yea boss wanted it checked out to make sure it wasn't like tampered with – I guess. Y'know after the accident.” you know the mechanics probably know what happened to you, you do live in a small town after all. Gossip stops for no one. But you do have control over details and talking about the incident and you won't be letting go of that any time soon.

Toby's one good eye darkens as he nods, “Gotcha, well it's fine even had Jess take it for a drive. Drove fine. Fixed that weird clicky thing it did on left turns, you're welcome.”

Hah, during the drive through Franklin Toby lost it after two left turns. He noticed the clicking sound your car would make, oddly only on left turns, and started bitching about it to you. At the time you just thought he was being funny when he'd complained you needed to take it in to the shop to fix that. Guess he wasn't. But what's the point of fixing something so trivial?

You cross your arms and are about to sass Toby about how unnecessary that was when Nate interrupts.

“Well since the car's cleared we'd better go settle the bill with Lewis.”

“No need, no parts to replace plus my free labor.” Toby looks away from Nate and back to you “It w-w-was so sl-o-ow-w so I told the old man we were dating and I'd been wanting to fix up your car.”

Normally you'd protest a friend or anyone giving you free services but since this was on the Cowells' dime you weren't going to burden them anymore.

“That's sweet – really really stupid, but sweet.”

Nate's already moving around you two and motioning towards his car as he says, “Well thank you, now we really need to get going YN. I don't want to be out late.”

You nod to Nate, turning and saying bye to Toby from over your shoulder.

When you suddenly remember, “Wait, hey Tobias can you take care of my car for the week? I know it's probably a weird request, but I'm sorta “grounded” right now and can't drive till the cottage is set up. A little worried the battery will drain from disuse.”

If it weren't for the mask and swollen eye the confused sneer of his would be clear to everyone on the lot. He sputters for a moment before speaking up.

“Ok? I mean like that's valid – whoa – a valid concern...but your car's not that old. But I guess I'll watch it? I don't have Connor so it'll have to stay in the lot tonight, that ok?”

Oh this stupid beautiful boy just gave you an out. Probably not the one he meant to give you but you are taking it and running as fast as you can.

“Or, or, or-”

“No, no, and no. You can't be trusted to not just drive off in the dead of night.” Nate cuts in.

It took a bit of coaxing but after calling the house and getting Dia's blessing you obtained one night to yourself. Really it'd be one night spent at the lodge but it was still better than being a guest in someone else's house for the night, this way you're a guest at the lodge for the night. A little mini vacation if you will. And Toby seemed fine to go with you to the cottage while you packed a bag with your essentials, before you both go back to the lodge.

He even agreed to drop you off at the bookshop in the morning.

“Are you seriously going stir crazy after five days?” he asks as you pull up to the cottage.

“it's more their constant smothering I'm over. I know everyone's worried but I still need my own agency. Y'know?”

“Yea....I do.” he murmurs with a solemn look about him before he exits the car and makes his way to the front door.

Your steps falter as you near the cottage. A few flashing images pass through your mind before you shakily inhale. Fortunately Toby is right beside you squeezing your hand to remind you of his presence. You aren't alone this won't end like Monday night.

Opening the door the house is quiet and just as you had last seen it. Nothing was disrupted, even peeking into the bathroom where you expected a crime scene to be – only a toppled shower curtain and over turned bath mat remained.

It doesn't really feel like your house right now. A fuzzy sensation clouds your thoughts, like your brain is trying to protect you from connecting with this place after your recent trauma. Although you aren't sure how you actually feel there's a strong sense of discontentment.

Noticing how you linger in the threshold of the bathroom Toby gently guides you into your room, all without a word. Leaving you alone in your room to collect your things. You move around at a moderate pace, you aren't drawing this out but you aren't rushing to leave soon either. A handful of shirts, a set of jeans, shorts, and joggers later you are grabbing your switch. Before diving into your art supplies you hear a thud across the hall.

You freeze as if ice water had just been poured onto you keeping you in place.

“Tobias!” you call out not moving.

“Fuck – sorry I acc-ack-accidently kicked your trash can.”

When had he gone to the bathroom?

“Are you ok?” you receive a quick 'yea' in response.

Jittery and in no mood to sit and draw you pick up an embroidery kit you'd been meaning to rip into. Should keep your attention long enough, but maybe you should grab another kit just in case. Bag loaded with enough of your things so you aren't driven mad during your stay – you turn to leave but decide to grab your goat plush as an after thought before leaving your room.

Walking out and into the rest of your house you notice a lack of Toby anywhere. Going towards the front door you spot him as you pass the kitchen. He's messing with your garbage can before he takes out the bag and ties it up.

“Wha' cha doin'?” he's been a bit off since you both arrived but you don;t blame him. Not like you're fairing any better.

“I, I kicked it and a whole bunch of trash came out. So then I had to put it-it all back, but there's a lot here and you aren't gonna be here for a week....I, I ju-just thought it'd be better to tak-take it out now.”

Nodding, you're thankful to have such a good friend looking out for you. It would've sucked to come home to a toxic waste site because you'd left trash in the garbage for three weeks.

You probably just thought it came from the bathroom because of the echo or something. Paranoia's been a pain this past week. Maybe you should look into getting a roommate, they might help.

“They're not that helpful trust me.”

“Wow, did I say that out loud?” Toby nods, “Fuck I am out of it. How are you and Tim doing?” you might be deflecting/ignoring your own issues. But Toby had his own shit going on Monday night and you doubt he's talked to anyone.

“We're fine. Just fucking hate him.” the sharp jerk of his head keys you in that he's very much not fine.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Who are you, my fuck-ing therapist?”

“Fine, wanna bitch then?”

He comes off the defensive like he realizes that he's talking with you right now. His good eye down cast after he relaxes his stance a bit.

You go to grab your kettle, filling it up and placing it down on the stove to warm up.

“Any preference on tea? I've got a few.” it was very much more than a few.

A chair screeches as Toby drags it out to sit down at your small kitchen table. He doesn't respond so you get one of your special blends out. This blend has rose hips which you normally dislike anything scented or flavored with roses but the ginger and cinnamon can normally over power the slightly floral sting of this tea. Plus it's made with the intention of healing the heart and promoting self love. A spell tea of sorts. Toby could probably use a little pick me up, you always did after a fight with a friend. Getting out the honey you ready the tea infuser into the cup waiting for the kettle's whistle.

“So just wanna start talking....or should I ask questions?” you turn to face Toby as you lean against the counter.

He's taken his mask off and placed it on the table, of course you remember his deteriorating face but it still surprises you to see it after a few days of not actually seeing his face. Maybe you'll get used to it and one day won't be so fascinated by his teeth.

“Tim's just a dick who thinks he has a right to act like he's my dad. Li-ike-like I'm twenty-four he doesn't need to constantly question the things I do. He doesn't have any room to talk to me about my mistakes he literally could've fucked staying here up for us....” Toby head had been snapping to the left several times during his rant and it continued as he got very quiet suddenly.

Tim could've messed staying here up? Did he mean here as in Kepler or the lodge? Barclay did have to break up the fight maybe he didn't want any of the trio in but let Toby stay out of concern for his condition.

“Hey I'm sure it wasn't that bad, I could even talk to Barclay to get you unbanned from the lodge.”

He takes the mug you pass him and spoons some honey into it/ It's weird to see half his face drawn into concentration since the other half isn't able to emote yet. Holding the cup in his hands he stares at the swirling steam rising up as you bring your own mug over to the table taking a seat. Not once does he look up at you as you stir in a bit of honey into your own tea.

Toby's neck snaps, “Am I...is it bad that I don't want you to?”

You send him a slightly pitying smile.

“No hun, you're upset. And you're having a totally valid reaction to a falling out.”

Toby rolled his eyes, at least you thin he did. Hard to tell with just the one.

“My therapist would love you. That's the kind of bullshit she tells me like all the time.”

Not knowing what to say to that you just nod as he continues to stare at you.

You both continue to talk, well you continue to let Toby rant about how stupid and dumb Brian and Tim are as you finish your tea. You still don't know the details of the fight but it sounds like the cause was just the last straw between the men and not the actual catalyst. According to Toby the other two tend to baby him or talk over his ideas and suggestions because he's the youngest of the group. Twice Toby mentioned Tim's paranoia and how that was really the cause of the tension between them. And how Brian wasn't any help because he'd always side with Tim to make sure his boyfriend was ok.

Toby was very bitter when talking about Brian's role in this more than Tim's. As if his role of passive bystander just sent Toby over the edge. Which from the way he spoke seemed like it's been dragging on for some time. All of this was painting an even worse picture of the smug asshole. Though you didn't break your silence or series of nods and hums until Toby off handily mentioned Brian getting him in trouble with his therapist by saying he was the one who started the fight.

“He fucking snitched....wait no he lied?!” Toby had to blink a few times before he finally understood what had gotten you so upset.

“Yea I mean it's not that big a deal. I was able to tell Clarise I missed a few days of my meds and she made me set reminders in front of her on the call.”

Apparently Clarise was sure Toby suffered from Bipolar Disorder, he was very flippant when he told you like it wasn't anything big. When you mentioned ADHD he kind of blanked. He got fidgety when you mentioned the symptoms you saw and ��nervously told you his medication was working just fine for him. Not wanting to make him more uncomfortable you dropped the topic. Soon it was dark and you needed to leave to make it to the lodge for dinner.

“You sure you want to take the garbage out? What if Chonk is over there?” joking as you lock the door.

“Good point. Trash you live here now.” he dumps the bag onto your lawn and walks towards your kia.

“Toby!”you gasp out, which sounds weird amidst your laughter.

He stops and looks at you his expression more unclear than it's been all evening. Your heart skips a beat as you stare at each other for a moment, your laughter gone now.

“It's weird to hear you say 'Toby'.”

That's all he says before he grabs the bag and carrying it to the side of your house where your bins are.

The conversation in the car is pretty light in comparison to what it has been. Just jokes getting thrown around and sharing the gossip that you'd head in the hospital because nurses' can't keep their mouths shut. Neither of you know any of the characters in the stories but they're still pure gold. Like the man who came in after getting his hand stuck in a cookie jar. Nervous and scared his wife would find out he's been eating the new holistic dog treats. A few stories or more like vents about the auto shop got thrown in. By the time you got to the lodge both of you were in lighter spirits.

Everyone was ecstatic to see you up and about and made an extra spot for you at the table. You didn't miss how Barclay would rise an eyebrow every time you locked eyes. You just roll your eyes and continue eating. When it got time to settle in for the night you were planning to commandeer the couch but Toby offered his room.

More accurately he offered a chance to hang out with Connor which you readily accepted. The rottie was just as excited to see you, bounding over the second you stepped through the door.

“Sigh if only there was a way to see Connor everyday.” you say dramatically whistful as you hold the pup's jowls in your palms.

Toby responds in turn in a drawn out sarcastic monotone “Oh my, how sad your life must be. There's only one solution, marry me. So Connor can finally have the second parent he's always wanted” he ends with a scratch behind the pups right ear.

“I was just gonna kick you and steal your dog.”

He turns to face you, “I can't feel-”

“So if I kicked you in the back of the knee it wouldn't buckle?”

Toby goes silent before conceding to your point. A mumbled “Connor would avenge me.” is heard.

After you two settle down you both hop into bed to try and get some sleep. Toby was holding your switch hostage so you had no choice but to “sleep” now.

You really hoped he changed his sheets from the other day. You'd hate to find out you're laying in milk stained sheets. Pushing those thoughts away as your body finally starts to relax, you can feel when your mind begins to drift into the beginning stages of sleep.

“Tobes, you can crash at my place if you need to.” is the last thing you say before falling into a peaceful slumber.

Toby on the other hand wasn't able to get much sleep at all that night. He couldn't shake the feeling something bad was about to happen. And unlike Tim he didn't think it was because of you, it just had something to do with you. You were too kind to be one of The Operator's proxies, with all the clues of His presence in this town you were one of many red herrings. Looking over to you Toby only hoped you wouldn't get hurt in the crossfire. Not like Lyra did, he doesn't think he could handle something like that. Especially with how shitty Tim's been lately, he's on edge and constantly about to snap. He just needs a break from everything. Maybe then the weight in his stomach would go away.

In the morning Toby's keen to hold up his end of the deal and drive you to work. You buy him breakfast and an iced coffee from Dunkin' and a pup cup for Connor. The three of you eat in your car while you wait for Nate to arrive. When he does you say your goodbyes and head off to start your shift. Promising Toby you'd call once you've been ungrounded.

Nate's face is grim as you approach the shop, you're starting to get used to the cold sweats from these dread bearing encounters. That can't be a good thing.

Did something happen last night? Were the Cowells targeted? Was everyone alright? These thoughts and more swam through your head as Nate motioned for you to follow him into the shop quickly.

He locked the door and pushed you into the back room. His hast doing nothing to settle your fraying nerves as you stumble past the threshold.

“That Rogers kid, how well do you know him?” his eyes dart around the back looking at every shadow as if watching their movements.

“Who's Roger?” you feel out of the loop.

Was Roger one of your assailants? Had the police already found suspects so soon on what little information you had to go on?

With a groan Nate smacked his hand against his face muttering something under his breath.

“Toby, Tobias Rogers how much do you know about him?” his tone is rushed and sharp.

You didn't even know his last name until now. But maybe you had heard it before but it never clicked with you. Honestly you've known each other for a month that's not very long at all. But maybe it's long enough to learn some things?

“...ah not much?”

There's a panicked look in Nate's eyes and he does his best to control his breathing. But it's clear that Nate is either about to hyperventilate or go into an anxiety attack. You wonder what's got him so worked up as he reached into his bag and pulls out a manila folder.

He hands it to you, you can see the water marks left by his sweaty palms.

What on Earth is going on?

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | one

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

*a/n*: hiiiiii! so here we go. i don’t have much to say except that you’ll probably notice this chapter is a bit shorter than they usually are for my fics. with this story, chapters may or may not be shorter in length. this is just easier on me, and helps me to keep a regular posting schedule. now, i’m not going to say i won’t post longer chapters, but i just wanted to get it out there. i have a tentative posting schedule in mind, which i’ll make a post about later, but i’d say you can probably expect a new chapter every two weeks. 

also, just want to say- i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy right now. stay home, wash your hands, avoid contact with your face, and if you have to order food tip your delivery drivers a lil extra! and to those that don’t get to stay home and still have to work, i’m right there with you. we’ll get through this and all we can do is take it day by day ❤️

✩ index here ✩

make sure you read the prologue first! 

Today had started just like any other day. Mark got up and went about his morning, brushing his teeth, eating his breakfast, and taking his usual ten minutes to sketch the ideas in his brain before heading off to work. 

It’d been slow, but Mark wasn’t worried. There were enough appointments on Saturday and Sunday to make up for a slow Friday. The temperature had reached an uncomfortable high, so he’d dressed himself in a black muscle tee to offer some relief from the sticky air. 

The early afternoon went smoothly. Mark took the opportunity to work on some new designs and do some organizing in his tattoo room, while the other guys opted to sit around showing each other funny videos on their phones. 

By the time lunch rolled around, he decided to sit outside with his iced coffee, scrolling through social media on his phone while relaxing in the shade of the awning. He glanced up mindlessly, his eyes drawn to a figure standing across the street. 

A girl holding an ice cream cone. Mark’s breath caught in his throat because, no, it wouldn’t be you. You’d be back home, attending some tiny college where your parents could keep a watchful eye on your every move, not here in the great big city. 

Then the girl dropped her ice cream cone, her whine audible even from where Mark sat. He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. He shook his head, just as there was a knock behind him on the glass of the door. 

Dahyun popped her head out. “Youngjae needs help grabbing some boxes from the back, can you help? Jackson and Yugyeom are being assholes.” 

Mark nodded, one last glance across the street before he stood up, heading back inside.

-----

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as Mark pressed the tip of his tattoo gun to your skin. Just the constant buzzing of the tool was enough to set your nerves on edge. 

Once you felt it, though, it wasn’t so bad. It hurt, but you’d been through worse. It was comparable to a thousand tiny kittens scratching you with their claws, over and over again. 

“You doing alright?” Mark asked, once one long minute had passed. 

You nodded, your arms squeezing the back of the chair you were straddling. It was an uncomfortable position, but it was the only way Mark would be able to access the back of your shoulder. You’d also had to strip down to just your bra, so at least you were given some modesty. 

“Yeah. Just... how long will it take?” 

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed how hard he was concentrating. His tongue was stuck between his lips, peeking out the corner. He was entirely focused on the art that he was tracing onto your skin. 

“Not long. The shading is what will take the longest, but it’s small, so I should have you out of here within the hour.” 

You exhaled slowly and pressed your forehead into the cushioned back of the chair as he went over the same area a few times. Though he muttered a ‘sorry’, you found yourself wincing from the pain. 

Yerin had left to get ready for work, as the stenciling and position process had gone on longer than either of you had thought. You’d made Mark move the stencil several times until you liked the positioning. Admittedly, it had been a stalling tactic to delay the inevitable pain that was coming. 

“How’s Taehyung?” Mark asked, just as he took a break from tracing onto your skin. You opened your eyes to see him reaching for a cloth to wipe across your skin. 

The question caught you off guard. Just the name of your brother was enough to rub salt into the wound you’d been holding closed for the last two months. You gulped, turning your face to press your other cheek into the chair, hiding your expression. 

“He’s good. He’s been in Japan for two years now, I think. He’s happy there.” 

You barely even noticed Mark returning to your tattoo, the pain less noticeable while your mind was occupied. 

“That’s good. I saw on Facebook he has a girlfriend now?” 

You nodded. “Mhm. Her name’s Jennie--she seems nice.” 

Mark didn’t need to know that you hadn’t spoken to your brother since the week before you moved to Seoul. He didn’t need to know you’d been avoiding his calls, texts, and e-mails. Most of them you deleted without even opening. 

From what you knew, Taehyung and Mark had simply drifted once they both moved out of your tiny town and started creating a life for themselves. Taehyung spent his years after college roaming the world, taking photos and putting on exhibits until he secured a steady photography job for a Japanese magazine. 

Mark moved before that, though you hadn’t known he’d moved to the city until today. You hadn’t ever been close to him besides the casual greeting when he’d be downstairs playing video games with Taehyung while you were doing homework. 

When you were younger, you’d had an innocent crush on him, only because he was one of the few boys that paid you any attention. You’d only ever had a handful of conversations, but he was always polite and even helped you with your math homework once or twice. It really hadn’t taken much to impress you back then.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” Mark asked. 

You were grateful for the slight change in subject. It was only a matter of time before he started asking about your parents, and you wouldn’t have been able to pretend any longer. 

“A couple of months. I just… wanted a change,” you told him honestly. 

Maybe you’d gotten more than you’d bargained for… but regardless, you were grateful for your newfound independence. 

“I get it,” Mark replied. “Alright, outline is done. Now we’ll just have to shade. I’ll give you a few minutes, okay?” 

You lifted your face from the back of the chair and sat up straight. “Can I see it?” you asked. 

It took a moment for you to realize Mark’s ears were turning red because without the shield of the chair, your entire bra-clad chest was now on display for him. It didn’t help that you’d chosen a pink, lacy bra just because it was the first one you’d grabbed out of your laundry bag. 

Quickly, you leaned forward again to cover yourself with the chair, biting forcefully onto your lip. You could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you said.

Mark cleared his throat and turned around, reaching for a handheld mirror on the table behind him. “It’s okay… I’ve definitely seen worse. Not that it was bad, or, well-” 

It was obvious he’d put his foot in his mouth. You found yourself giggling, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Mark looked as if he was desperate for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back around. “Here,” he said chuckling softly as he held up the mirror behind you so that you could see the work he’d already done. 

You managed to stifle your giggles as you turned your head. It was no wonder Mark was known for pieces like this--his lines were crisp and clear, flowing in such a way that it looked as if your skin was born with this intricate design. You couldn’t wait to see how it looked when it was complete.

“Good?” he asked.

“I love it,” you said, smiling wide. “Makes the pain worth it.” 

Mark looked pleased with your answer. He set the mirror down and got up, switching out the ink on his pen for the color he was going to use for the petals, a soft cool toned purple. 

You resumed your position against the chair after a few more minutes, fists clenched as you prepared for the pain. 

-----

It turned out not to be so bad. Mark kept you distracted, asking you questions about your experience in the city so far. When he sensed you avoiding the topic of home or your parents, he didn’t push. 

Once he got your tattoo bandaged up, you sat around talking for another half an hour while he showed you photos of his drawings, as per your request. You’d never known that he was so talented. 

“I guess I should be going,” you said after a lull in conversation. If you wanted to get back to your room before your roommate began their daily music blasting and loud video game routine, you’d need to head back. 

“Where are you staying?” he asked, pulling off his gloves and washing his hands in the miniature sink against the wall.

“Just… this little place,” you answered. Little was an understatement. 

When you’d moved out, you’d only had a suitcase and a finite amount of cash. It hadn’t exactly been planned, so your options were limited. You stayed in the first hostel you could find, and you were disappointed to find that the wages you received from serving couldn’t provide you with anything better. 

You shared a room, currently with a Russian girl a few years older than you that seemed to only be staying in Seoul to play shooting games and blast ear-piercing rock metal. Your last roommate hadn’t been nearly as bad, but you weren’t having great luck. 

“Here, I’m just finishing up for the day. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat, then I’ll take you home.” 

Your efforts to refuse his offer were basically ignored. He gave you no choice as he led you out to the front room to pay for your tattoo, whispering something lowly to Dahyun as she wrote up your bill. 

“Mark,” you said in protest once you saw the total. You didn’t know much about tattoo pricing, but you were sure this was significantly lower than it should have been.

“What? It’s a family and friends discount.”

You sighed. As much as you wanted to refuse his help, you had to admit you could take whatever discounts you could get. Tattoos were expensive and you certainly didn’t have the budget to get one as impulsively as you had today. 

“I’ll get my stuff ready, then I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Mark asked and you nodded, watching as he walked off to his room. 

“Family and friends, huh?” Dahyun asked, eyebrows raised as she watched you sign your receipt. “You must have gotten really close back there.” 

You laughed, sliding the receipt back over the table. “It turns out, he used to be best friends with my older brother. So… family, I guess,” you said, though you never really saw him as such. No matter how many times your mother acted like he was her second son. 

“Wow, small world,” Dahyun said as she handed over a sheet of paper with a list of bullet points on it. She went over the aftercare process, recommending the creams and ointments that she preferred, and ways to help it heal faster. 

After thanking Dahyun over and over for her kindness, you gathered your things and waited outside of the front door for Mark. 

When your day began, you never would have thought you’d be having dinner with your brother’s old best friend, bringing back memories you hadn’t quite been ready to revisit. But he was so sweet to you, so easy to talk to, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no. 

You’d always admired Mark’s choice to move to Seoul straight out of school, with no plan and no connections to the city. And he only came back for holidays and special occasions. While you were hastily packing your clothes into a duffel bag, you remembered thinking briefly of him. 

“Ready?” Mark asked from behind you as he exited the shop. The sunlight hit his skin, bringing your attention to the swirling designs upon his shoulder. The way his shirt was cut allowed you a peek of his ribs—you could see loopy cursive etched on his skin but you were unable to make it out.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you replied with a smile, tearing your eyes from his bare skin. 

[prinxietys]

Liar Liar

I told y’all I’d do it!!!! And I did! The first chapter to my new fic is out on ao3! This is more a slice of life set in a soulmate au

Here’s a link to the story!

Liar Liar

Chapter 1

Warnings: Alcohol, piercings, uhh, I don’t think much else atm (both very brief and not huge plot points)

Summary: It's easy to lie to people. Virgil knows this. He's lied his whole life.It's hard to lie, But Patton might as well be the master of it by this point.It's an art to lie, an easy facade that Roman knows all too well.There's no point in lying, it is the biggest waste of Logan's time.What a lie.

Pairings: Eventual Lamp

Virgil stared out the bus window, watching the neighborhoods pass him by in a blur.

"House," He whispered.

"Tree."

"Mailbox."

"Truck."

He liked this game, it helped the time pass. Especially since his phone had died this morning (A misplaced charger was the culprit).

The bus came to a slow stop, one person got off, three got on.

The bus started back into motion.

"Telephone pole."

"Tree."

"Tricycle!"

Virgil's mouth snapped shut and he turned to the man standing behind him, smiling widely.

"I love this game! Christopher Robin was a great movie!"

"... Yeah."

He glanced down at his phone in a desperate prayer that suddenly the battery would fill and he could bury his nose in it to avoid this oncoming conversation.

"My names, Patton!" The man held out his hand, but Virgil sheepishly held up his hand.

"Sorry, I don't... um," He glanced down at the others hand,and Patton immediately understood.

"Oh, no problem! Everyone wants their whole soulmate thing to be an adventure after all!" He took the empty seat beside Virgil as the bus went over a particularly bad pothole,and his body collided with Virgil's side.

"Shoot, sorry," He quickly apologized while pulling away, " I totally didn't do that on purpose I swear, i wouldn't have purposefully bumped you, I know you just said you don't like contact-"

"It's okay," Virgil cut in, trying to keep his voice calm, " like you said, it was an accident."

Patton looked sheepish then smiled wide at the other.

And just like that, the conversation was over. The two spent the rest of the ride in silence, and when Virgil's stop came, he said a quick "Bye" and left without looking back.

He checked his wrist.

10:55.

He hiked his bag up on his shoulder and sprinted as fast as he could down the block to work before his boss began to sacrifice his soul for a new employee.

~

"11:01."

"Not technically late," Virgil grinned.

"Cheek. You better go get your station ready, you got a pretty decent schedule today," His manager ruffled his hair, and he huffed with indignation, he was taller then them, come on!

He went to his station, bobbing his head along to the P!aTD playing over the speakers. He flicked on the lights in his office, and grinned as he blasted his own speakers, the next pirate metal on his playlist.

He looked over his next client, coming in for an industrial in his right ear.

A knock at his door drew his attention from where he was sketching his next tattoo design while he was waiting.

“You’re client is here.”

“Thanks.” He snapped it shut and pulled on gloves before going out to meet his client.

“Hey there,” He said in greeting, holding out his hand, “Names Virgil.”

The man took his hand and shook it once. Formally.

“Logan, pleased to meet you.”

“Formal for a punk,” Virgil said as he looked over the mans information.

“Mellow for a metalhead,” He threw back.

“Eh, just like the music. Wouldn’t say I’m hardcore.”

“Well, neither would I, then I suppose. I like the aesthetic. The freedom and transformation. Plus, my students will find another ear piercing amusing to no end.”

“Come this way and we can get started Mr. Teacher.” Virgil motioned to his work room, where he turned the music off so whatever latest alternative song played quietly in the background.

“Okay, go ahead and take a seat and lean back,” He motioned to the chair in the center of the room, which the other made himself comfortable on.

Virgil washed his hands before turning back to the other and pulled on a brand new pair of rubber gloves.

“So, first I’m going to clean the area surrounding where the piercing is gonna go,a dn then I’m gonna use a marker to mark where the piercing will be, and you can take a look and tell me what you think.”

“Sounds well enough.”

Virgil did as he said and handed a hand mirror to the other.

“How does that look? Won’t get in the way of your other piercings, though during the healing process I do recommend you stick with this rook you have in now and do not change it out until this new one heals. You will run the chance of irritating and infecting this industrial because of the close placement.”

Logan nodded agreement, and Virgil continued.

“Alright, in that case, let’s get this ball rolling.”

It was silent for a minute, before cold metal was set to Logan’s ear and Virgil was speaking.

“Alright you might feel a bit of a pinch, but that’s just the clasp since we’re using a needle instead of a piercing gun. Okay we’re almost read-” before he finsihed talking he did the first hole and smirked as the others fingers tensed ever so slightly.

“‘Startle ya?”

“Did I startle you?” The other corrected, seemingly out of instinct.

“Punk.”

He saw a smirk quirk the others lips.

“Alright, I’m gonna get the bar ready to go through as I pierce the second. Should I count this time?”

“If you insist upon it.”

“Alright, on the count of five. One-” And with that, he got the needle through the other side and was twisting the ball on the end of the earring.

“There we go, all done.”

Virgil laid his toolson his sterile tray and removed his gloves before picking up the mirror again, passing it off to Logan, who took it, accidentally bumping his hand against the others.

“Apologies,” He said quickly, “I too prefer to refrain from physical contact with others.”

“Eh, it’s no problem. Happens all the time.”

Logan was admiring his ear, it was red and very slightly swelling, but nothing bad.

“Alright-” Virgil went through the process of cleaning it with the other, showing a demonstration with his own barbell.

“And did you want a check up text or call in 30 days?”

“Yes, a text would do just well.”

“Alright, then we are all set. Here’s my business card if you have any questions or wish to make any appointments in the future.”

“Thank you very much for your time, Virgil.”

~

“Here we are, one raspberry cosmopolitan for Mr. Bigshot over here.”

Virgil blushed under the stare of the bartender, reaching out for the drink set in front of him.

“Ah, yeah…”

“So, what’re you doing here tonight? Tryna drink the week away?” The bartender winked.

Virgil felt an awkward cloud fall over his mind. Which always seemed to happen around the hot bartender.

“Uh, drink, yeah. Right.” As if to prove his point, he began draining his glass.

“Wow, you sure have a tolerance,” The bartender through his head back and laughed.

“Heeeeey, Roman!”

A man at the other end of the bar waved his hand and Roman winked at Virgil before turning and throwing his arms out in open greeting to the other patron. Virgil watched as the two began to throw playful flirting back and forth.

Though, part of Virgil wondered if maybe it wasn’t playful. Maybe that was serious flirting.

What would I know? He thought sourly. I can’t flirt to save my life.

Though, I don’t know if I’d want to. That would most likely bring more problems then not.

“Hey, earth to Mr. Brightside!”

He snapped out of his thoughts.

“I thought you were off helping someone else?” Virgil remarked.

“And I did, but I wanted to help you out a little more,” The other remarked, a glint of mischief in his dark eyes.

“Uh, I’m good, thanks…”

Flirting. He’s flirting.

Fuck, how do I tell him he’s handsome but I’m not interested? Will that offend him?

“I don’t know how to tell you honey, but you’re sucking down air there,” The other pointed to his glass, and Virgil looked down and felt his face begin to burn in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry suga’ I got you,” The bartender winked as he took the others glass.

“Oh, um, I don’t really drink that much…. One’s enough for me.”

“Oh,” The other pouted, “Does that mean I’m dismissed for now?”

“Uh.”

Okay, this was too much flirting, playful or otherwise, for Virgil to process.

“Um, I-”

Roman smiled. Not smirked, but smiled and reached his hand out to take Virgil’s, slipping a piece of paper into his own grasp, and not seeming to mind Virgil’s sudden reflexive jerk backwards. A Lot of people probably came and went like him all the time.

“Well, if you ever wanna bask in my radiance again, just gimme a call.”

With that, roman turned and headed back to help his coworkers, and the other patrons.

~

Virgil sat at his desk, water colors staining both his paper and hands, eyes bloodshot and drooping, when he felt a soft, trickle, like water, running down the back of his hand.

Assuming it to be paint, he rubbed his hand off on a towel, and paid it no mind.

Two hours later though, as he washed the paint off in the shower, he felt the trickle again. Cold compared to the steam of the shower, and not running off his hand but across it.

He looked down,blinking the dripping water from his lashes so his vision stopped blurring, and his heart stopped.

Is someone there?

It was written in red pen. In small, neat print.

Then below it, another line.

Sorry, if I scared you

He quickly sat on the floor of the tub, not wanting to slip and fall in his sudden dazed state.

It was them.

It was Virgil’s soulmate.

[cottagecori]

crutchie x artist! reader

i lost the original ask for this but basically, they asked for crutchie hcs where he liked the reader who was an artist like jack  

but this is more of an origin of him meeting the reader because i got inspired™ 

but if y’all ever want me to make more headcanons with this same trope i would be happy to!

it’s also terribly long. basically a whole ass fic without proper punctuation and grammar. aka my favorite thing to write. 

•you had always loved art

•but you had only begun to make art in your teenage years

•because ya know. fear of not being good enough is a JERK

•but you really decided to give art a try when this drawing flew into your room one day from the building next door

•It was so colorful and enchanting and the physical representation of everything you wanted to create

•you had never tried to make anything like it before because, again, you were too afraid that you would fail

•but seeing it laid out before you like that flipped some sort of switch inside of you

•you were tired of dreaming and wanted to start doing

•so you picked up the nearest pencil and paper and went to work

•it took you a while, but you finished it and felt more accomplished than you ever had before

•after that sketch, came more and more until you had filled up about half of a notebook

•and after that moment of glory, you realized that you had to find the owner of the drawing and thank them

•maybe even get them to teach you their ways (or at the very least see if they had any tips or tricks - i mean it couldn’t hurt to ask, right?)

•so...

•later that week, you decided to go over to the neighboring building and see who made the masterpiece that had caused you to pick up the paintbrush

•You went over with the artist’s sketch in your hand and your first sketch tucked away in your bag

•(it’s one thing for the artist to see it but the rest of the world seeing it? that’s something you didn’t think you were ready for)

•you knocked on the door and were immediately met by a scraggly blonde boy whose face lit up when he saw the piece of paper in your hand

•“oh thank god, that boy has been freaking out all day. If you wanna give it to him, he’s on the roof. or you can give it to me to give to him and we’ll say that you owe me a favor”

•he winked and even though he was cute he wasn’t what you were there for

•so you climbed the fire escape, ready to meet this incredible artist and finally share your ideas with someone other than your pet

•when you got up to the roof, there was a guy around your age, facing away from you and staring at the skyline

•you cleared your throat to catch the stranger’s attention

•he turned around to face you and your jaw hit the floor

•before you stood this absolutely adorable boy who smiled at you with the most heart-warming smile you had ever seen in your life

•it took you a second to you compose yourself and stop staring

•but once you did, you noticed his eyes go wide, just beginning to stare

•he was gawking at you almost as if you were the greatest thing he had ever seen

•(to him, you actually were, but he’d turn bright red if he ever had the courage to tell you that)

•he was so endearingly awkward that you lost your train of thought

•then you finally regained your composure, you started to ask for his name but you were interrupted by the entrance of another boy

•you turned to face the new boy and saw the paint stains all across his arms.

•“how’d you get up here, sweetheart?”

•“a boy name Race said I’d find the owner of this drawing up here”

•you held up the painting you had become so familiar with and the paint-stained teen’s eyes went wide

•“i thought I lost that forever! How’d you get it?”

•you smiled so wide realizing you had actually found him, you found your inspiration

•“it flew in my window last week and it actually gave me the courage to make something of my own”

•“that’s incredible! Crutchie, come take a look at this! they brought back my painting!”

•the boy (who you now know to be Crutchie) walked over to join the two of you

•once again, Crutchie cause you to lose all focus, and you quickly lost your train of thought

•he smiled seeing his friend so happy and you were just so mesmerized by his smile

•and i mean mesmerized

•like, i mean, jack had to snap in front of your face to pull you out of your trace

•anyway, you showed him (and crutchie) your sketch

•they were floored, to say the least

•you had an enormous amount of talent and he made you promise, right there, to keep going with your art

•you asked him if he would be able to teach you

•he told you that you were so talented, he couldn’t teach you anything you didn’t already have down

•but he also said that he knew how to make sure you could practice in a way so your work would actually be seen

•before he told you anything more, he had Crutchie go with you back to your place to get the rest of your notebook

•(don’t doubt Jack, he knew what was up as soon as crutchie smiled at you and he was gonna help his boy in any way he could)

•after you got all of your stuff, he had Crutchie take you to Medda

•Jack was too busy with his political cartoons to paint any new backdrops for her but she had been desperately wanting a new one

•so he sent you her way in the hopes that you could solve her problem and continuing painting in the process

•on the way to Medda’s, Crutchie started asking you all sorts of questions and you found yourself laughing and smiling more than you thought possible which was strange yet calming?

•it was easy to fall into a rhythm that made it seem like you had been friends forever

•when you got to the bowery, medda asked you if you could paint a backdrop then and there as a test while she interviewed you

•you were frightened, to say the least, but Crutchie assured you it would be okay

•he even stayed with you the whole time Medda was interviewing you

•he was also the first one, besides Medda, to see the finished product

•he loved it, and Medda loved it (but Crutchie loved it more because it was your work)

•you had done so well, Medda hired you

•you originally only did the backdrops but she loved you so much that you practically became her personal assistant that way she could always have you around

•this meant that you spent nearly every day at Medda’s, having the time of your life

•this also meant that crutchie knew where you were most of the time and could come “annoy” you whenever he pleased

•(he never annoyed you-you loved having him around)

•he would come to spend time with you in the theatre around lunch and you would buy a pape from him every day on your break

•you would also watch the sunset every day on the roof of the Lodge or, as he kept calling it, the “Penthouse”

•you spent as much time together as possible

•spending time with him was like a breath of fresh air, everything felt easy

•little did you know, it wasn’t that easy for him.

•being with you felt easy but he felt the need to do everything he could to keep you interested

•(our brave lil softy doesn’t have to do much to keep you interested but fear of rejection plagues us all)

•he was exhausted, pulling out all the stops: telling his funniest jokes, cheesiest pickup lines, weirdest newsies stories, weirdest headlines

•he didn’t want to bore you

•you were an incredibly talented artist with so much going for you and he felt like he was barely average next to you

•but he didn’t realize that being in his company made you so incredibly happy that it felt like you were floating

•you were constantly left in awe of all he knew and also left groaning at his terrible jokes

•he was your muse and you never went a week without making a new sketch of him

•your favorite is one where he’s sitting on the edge of the penthouse during sunset-you were on your own rooftop and he was facing away from you

•he didn’t even realize you were there, to be honest

•(because he was too busy thinking about you and what joke he was going to tell you the next time he saw you)

•that one is hanging in your room and you look at it constantly (he thinks it’s because you are just looking at what to make better)

•(the boy is clueless)

•(but you are too because Medda keeps trying to tell you that he likes you

•(but she can’t seem to get it through your head)

•“don’t be stupid, honey. that boy likes you more than pulitzer likes profits”

•but you ignored her and decided to live in your little bubble imagining what it would be like to be his

•not knowing that he was sitting right next to you thinking the exact same thing

[baneismydragon]

The not so secret diary of Gabriel Agreste

Because I needed some crack in my life. This is a gift for @geek-fashionista who requested my joke idea become a fic. 

And because writing ridiculous Gabe content cheers me up and I needed a good pick me up. (Hopefully this will get me back in the mood to finish the next chapter of Cut from the Same cloth. If nothing else it felt good to really sit down and write again.) 

Anyways- enjoy. 

The not so secret diary of Gabriel Agreste

(Edited and catalogued by Nathalie Sancoeur)

March 18th

So apparently driving 4 employees to a nervous breakdown in the span of 2 weeks is a problem to my board of directors. They claim it’s ‘not good for the company’. Also, apparently, backhanding one of them during the meeting for suggesting I ‘take a leave of absence to deal with the loss of your wife’ counts as assault.

To avoid charges, and more importantly a forced sabbatical, I have agreed to see a therapist. Hence this ridiculous writing exercise.  Oh well. At least it is only one wasted hour a week as opposed to several months of sitting in my house, watching them drive my company into the ground with their ineptitude.

March 25th-

My therapist says that I have a problem.

Of course I have a problem! My wife is missing. Honestly, I have to pay this man?

He says that I need to be ‘focused on healing and rebuilding a new sense of normalcy instead of lashing out at the people around me.’

Well perhaps if the people around me weren’t so incompetent I wouldn’t need to lash out so much.

Nathalie- does it count as attending my therapy sessions if I send a proxy in my place? Please investigate.

March 30th-

My therapist has informed me that I am developing an obsession, and that he is concerned that the loss of my wife and my need to get her back is driving me to an unhealthy dissociative state.

Well maybe that’s why it is so important that I get her back. Did you ever think of that? Then I won’t need to waste my time adjusting to my new circumstances, because everything can just go back to the way it was. It’s really not that complicated. For someone whose job it is to ‘help me cope with my grief’ he is quite the pessimist. He keeps insisting we discuss the possibility of if she never comes back. Thank God these sessions are only an hour long, I don’t need to get charged with assault again.

April 1st-

I told my therapist that his advice was working and that I have completely seen the error of my ways.

And Nathalie says I have a terrible sense of humor.

The crushed look on his face when I pointed out the date was priceless.

Nathalie- make sure we are having fish for dinner, Adrien will appreciate the humor even if you don’t.

April 9th-

I had the portrait artist come in today so that we could replace the family portrait at the top of the staircase. I pre-selected our mourning ensembles and Adrien was miserable the whole time. The artist asked me if he should take some artistic licence with our expressions. I asked him if he valued his commission. The finished work was a perfect testament to the state of misery in this house. Hopefully this will serve as an adequate reminder to anyone who thinks it’s acceptable to attempt to inform me that ‘things are never as bad as they seem.’

My therapist says this is yet another sign of my increased megalomania. I think that it isn’t my fault that more people don’t have the resources to afford appropriate decor for their homes based on the emotional environment. Given what I am having to pay out for these worthless sessions I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a half dozen portraits of his own scattered around some poorly decorated eyesore he calls a home.

Nathalie- please arrange for some new backlighting for the updated portrait. Either some cool blue tones or perhaps some purple.

April 14th-

Today my therapy session consisted of discussing my childhood. On the bright side I sketched out two new designs while I tuned out his prattle.

Nathalie- you owe me 20 Euro. I told you it would take less than a month for him to try the Freudian approach.

April 21st-

Yesterday was the runway launch of the new Spring line. Not some of my best work to be honest but still a far sight better than anything else released this season. Maybe the Italians will give me some competition this year at least.

One of the reporters asked if the line was being dedicated to my ‘late wife’. I ask him if he was going to dedicate this interview to his soon to be late career?

Of course Adrien heard the whole thing and has been in a mood ever since, although he didn’t let it affect his performance. Even as a child, he is more professional than a fair percentage of my staff. I am prodigiously proud of him. Now if only he would stop being so emotional. It isn’t good for him. He spent the entire morning and afternoon holed up in his room listening to angst ridden J-pop and ordering mint fudge ice cream from the kitchen staff.

My therapist says that I need to be making an effort to empathize with his grief instead of fixating on my own, and compensate more in my new role as a single parent.

Clearly the stress of this show has addled my brain because I stupidly attempted to follow his advice.

After a pre-scheduled family dinner I patted Adrien on the shoulder and told him that I promises that things will get better.

He stared at me for a few seconds like I had grown a second head, before hugging onto me like a barnacle and bursting into tears.

Wonderful.

I managed to send my own child into hysterics.

This is the sort of disaster that comes from listening to the advice of idiots.

April 22nd-

Adrien seems to have recovered from last night’s meltdown rather admirably. Thank God children bounce back from these sorts of setbacks. I am glad to see that my poor judgement in following my therapist's advice doesn’t seem to have caused any permanent damage. Now I can go back to the important business of figuring out how to bring his mother back instead of wasting everyone’s time with pointless platitudes. Really that is the much smarter approach.

It’s like I tell my employees- if you just fix the mistake you won’t have to spend your energy explaining why it was there in the first place. No one will care how many failures you went through to get there- all that matters is the end result.

Speaking of failures, what was I thinking when I chose the dining room furniture? It’s hideous.

Nathalie- remind me to set aside time to purchase a new dining set.

April 30th-

She has been gone for exactly 100 days.

May 9th-

Today is my 20th Wedding anniversary.

It was storming today. My therapist asked me how that made me feel.

I told him- wet.

I don’t think he appreciated my answer.

May 12th-

I have fired my therapist.

No the answer to my problems is not to ‘move on and accept my loss and just be grateful for each new day.’ What sort of idiotic attitude is that? If I approached my life according to the advice of this degenerate I would be designing pink sequins party dresses for some mass produced tween fashion label. Even worse, the toad-faced troll had the audacity to suggest that I should consider arranging for Adrien to have his own therapy sessions. As if my child needs any sort of support from a second rate psychoanalyst with delusions of grandeur.

Good riddance. Besides, 2 months of this charade should be more than enough to satisfy the board.

Nathalie- make arrangement for a private investigator to look into his business. Perhaps we can do the world a favor and get his licence revoked.

May 14th-

I have decided to keep this diary. I find writing about the stupidity of others quite therapeutic.

Nathalie please find a more appropriately color coordinated journal in which to properly transcribe my entries.   

May 17th-

I have hired a bodyguard for Adrien. He keeps trying to sneak out, and I can’t keep losing Nathalie for hours at a time while she chases him down. I don’t understand why he is so desperate to go out and meet other people. Hasn’t he figured out by now that very few people are actually worth meeting? Clearly the stress of losing his mother is clouding his judgement. I’ll arrange for Nathalie to get a few more of those arcade machines he enjoys so much to be shipped in. Hopefully that will help keep him distracted.

Meanwhile, perhaps I should up his modeling engagements. After all, throwing oneself into one's work does provide some temporary solace. It’s certainly the best plan I have come up with so far.

May 22nd-

Adrien’s new Bodyguard has caught him attempting to sneak out twice. Both times he sent me a text informing me that the incident had been taken care of and requesting an appropriate stipend for the installation of new security cameras.

This is clearly the best hiring decision I have made in years.

Adrien may be the closest thing to perfection in this world but alas, children will be children, so I am glad I have some competent staff to manage him until he grows out of it. I believe this teenaged need to rebel in light of our recent family tragedy is what the media refers to as ‘Emo’. I will make some calls to the main office to have more of our black pieces added to his wardrobe. And my ex therapist said I ‘wasn’t paying attention to my sons needs.’ Ha.

June 3rd-

Still no progress in my plan. This morning I woke up from a dream and I couldn’t remember if that is what my wifes laugh actually sounded like.

I can’t live like this. I won’t live like this.

June 5th-

Nathalie I will take dinner in my office. Also I am not to be disturbed for the rest of the weekend.

June 10th-

Feeling infinitely better today.

It has been uncovered that my recently disgraced ex-therapist was having an affair, and with a former patient no less! Clearly he was taking out his own frustrations with his own failed marriage out on me.

Unlike that hypocritical cow, I will preserve my family no matter what impediments I may face. I knew I was right all along. Still, it’s nice to have outside validation.

Nathalie- be sure to send a sizable bonus to the private investigator, as well as a nice fruit basket.

June 17th-

Adrien had a piano recital today. It was exceptional of course. I do wish he had chosen something other than Chopin. Really, is this emo phase going to carry over into everything he does?

I will have to send a message to his bodyguard to start monitoring his packages for hair dye.

Apparently he didn’t approve of me leaving as soon as his piece was over. I don’t see why. It’s not like I have any interest in the other performers and I already paid my admission so it’s no loss to the institution. Children can be so demanding.

Nathalie- make a note, the next time I am required to attend one of these functions make sure I have a tablet with me.

June 23rd-

Why have I still not replaced that dining room table?

July 2nd-

On the plane to London because apparently the instructions “just recreate the exact same show we did a month ago” are too complicated for my employees.

I am doubly glad that I hired a bodyguard for Adrien since he is ill and will not be joining us on this trip.

Hopefully I shouldn’t be gone more than a day or so.

July 6th-

Still in London. Apparently I underestimated just how moronic people can be. I miss my wife. She always knew how to get people to do what I needed them to do with causing them to burst into tears.

She also would have appreciated my puns.

Once I get her home I swear I am going to reward myself with an entire month of not having to speak to anyone whose surname isn’t Agreste.

Except for Nathalie, of course.

July 10th-

Finally home. Adrien has made a full recovery.

He spent all of dinner expounding on the merits of something called ‘MOBA’s. I’ve found it best to just nod and pretend like I understand what he is talking about when he goes on these tangents.

Nathalie- please get me the definition for the term Noob.

July 15th-

I am truly at my wits end. Between my lack of progress on my search for my wife and my constant set backs at the company I am for all intents and purposes trying to go up a creek without a paddle.

Nathalie is less than thrilled with me at the moment as I have taken to locking myself in the office with my cellphone and computer turned off. She doesn’t seem to appreciate having to slide notes under the door.

July 22nd-

Nathalie Sancoeur is the only person to whom I am not related by blood or marriage whom I would make an effort to save during a zombie apocalypse. (Adrien’s current favorite pastime is discussing how he would react to various ridiculous survival scenarios with his bodyguard, or more accurately at his bodyguard.)

She suggested that given my frustrations with some of my staff perhaps some personnel changes were in order.

There is nothing quite so satisfying as telling  a worthless employee that they should pack up their desk and go.

I am quite confident that none of the individuals fired today would survive a zombie apocalypse.

Nathalie- please give yourself a 2% raise. It might come in handy for purchasing supplies when we are under siege by an army of the undead.

July 28th-

Adrien had his friend Mllm Bourgeois over again today. He has asked if he can be allowed to attend public school with her this term.

I told him that if Miss Bourgeois is an example of the merits of a public school education I would sooner be tarred and feathered than let him within 50 feet of said institution.  

He seems to believe that going to school would allow him the opportunity to make new friends- so I suppose I can at least see the appeal. Though, after observing his interactions today I am amazed he doesn’t simply swear off friendship altogether.

Nathalie- look into putting together some sort of dossier of suitable young people with whom Adrien could potentially associate. Perhaps we can arrange to have some on call for social engagements in the future.

July 29th-

Adrien is not speaking to me today. He has locked himself in his room. Why is everyone in this family so sensitive?

Apparently ‘you can’t just buy friends.’

Clearly he has never been involved in politics.

August 2nd-

Adrien is still angry at me. Fine, if he wants to get into a petty game of who can ignore the other longer I will play his game. He’ll learn that no one beats me when it comes to the silent treatment, just like his mother did. The most she ever made it was 3 days. We will see if Adrien fairs any better.

August 3rd-

Upon further reflection, at the end of those three days I ended up with a broken nose when my wife punched me in the face. Perhaps I should rethink my strategy.

Nathalie- schedule a family meeting to discuss Adrien’s grievances. Tell him it will save time if he prepares a list of his complaints and proposed solutions for me to consult before the start of the negotiations.

August 6th-

Adrien is visiting with his friend Mllm Bourgeois so I am taking the opportunity to go through and organize my wife’s belongings. (The staff has been forbidden from disturbing anything but it is starting to get a bit dusty.) It is best to do this while Adrien is gone as I don’t know if I can tolerate another weekend of melancholy foreign ballads blasting from his room. Or worse that new Jagged Stone album I was foolish enough to order for him as a reward for winning his last fencing competition. I swear that man sounds like a beached whale screaming its way through a slow and agonizing death. I don’t know what Adrien sees to admire in it.

At least his attempted breakouts seem to have come to a temporary halt. Either the efforts of his bodyguard have finally tempered his resolve or he is secretly plotting some sort of elaborate scheme and is trying to lure us into a false sense of security.

I guess we will see how much he takes after me.

Nathalie- make sure all of Adrien’s electronic devices are equipped with GPS tracking.

August 8th-

Still slowly working my way through the cleaning process. The latest edition of some video fighting game arrived for Adrien so he has been conveniently occupied by that. It’s getting harder to face him knowing that I am still no closer to having an answer as to how to get his mother back, not that he asks. He has always been far too kind for his own good.  

Still, it is a parent’s job to do what is ultimately best for their children and for the first time in my life I find myself spectacularly failing.

No matter how many hours I spend locked in my office I am still no closer to a concrete plan.

At least Adrien has stopped trying to accompany when I am in there. It’s too hard enough coping with my own failure without my son having to bare witness.

I will figure out a way. I did not get where I am today without being willing to fight for what I want. And once I am successful all of this will just seem like a bad dream. Both for me and for my son.

August 9th-

I never realized just how much of a hoarder my wife was until I took on this project. How many souvenirs does one woman need?

There is an entire suitcase from our last trip to Tibet that she didn’t even bother to unpack.

I’ll take care of it tomorrow.

Nathalie- reschedule my lunch with the mayor. Until after the election if at all possible. 4 months isn’t an unreasonable delay for a man with my obligations.

August 10th-

It seems that there is some truth to the concept that one should actually OPEN the boxes one acquires. I now have in my possession a strange magical creature named Nooroo who seems optimistic in his belief that he can help me in my quest to restore my family. It seems I will have the chance to turn into some sort of super powered empath with the ability to grant powers to others to help combat the forces of evil in this world. Seems like a rather dubious power. Most people are insufferably dim and couldn’t be trusted with a butter knife much less magical enhancements. Still, it is the first positive news in months. I tried opening the other box with the peacock pin but after 10 seconds of the creature crying upon being awakened I have decided to simply return it to dormant and lock it in the safe. Perhaps it will be useful later but for now one miraculous should be more than sufficient.  

Nathalie- In light of my new associate we will need a few changes to the house. Additional security, new curtains,  as well as some additions to the kitchen inventory. I will upload a list to your PDA.

August 12th-

And Everyone told me I would never have a use for a secret lair. Well I showed them. I have asked Nathalie to arrange for a large shipment of butterflies to be installed for ambiance. I have also brought in a private contractor to hide the control panel. The last thing I want in for Adrien to stumble upon any of this and get the idea to become some sort of hero vigilante. Honestly I don’t know where that boy gets his ridiculous flair for the dramatic. It must be from his mother. Meanwhile I have decided to keep Nooroo dormant for a little while. He keeps wanting me to talk to him about my feelings. If I wanted to do that I wouldn’t have fired my therapist.

August 20th-

Lair is finally ready to go. I realize though that perhaps I should read the instruction manual that came with the miraculous before I attempt to utilize unpredictable magical powers.

Nathalie- please arrange for a large pot of coffee and my favorite armchair to be placed in the lair this afternoon.  

August 30th-

Apparently translating ancient codes with no resources or starting point whatsoever is, in fact rather difficult. I supposed I should ask Nooroo for assistance.

[tobeyouthful]

Two Sinners and Tiny Demons | Oneshot.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader words: 6799 words warning: Mention of miscarriage and cheating. genre: angsty, fluffy, with a dash of smut a/n: This took two full days and im proud since its my longest fic yet. Shoutout to my sister for editing it for me, crying over it, and helping me pick who it should be he was your sun and your moon and everything in between and now he was nothing but a ghostly memory and a few pictures on your phone.

me. 10:48 PM. I’ve been thinking of you lately. Deleted. You shut your phone down and turned to lay on your side as it laid on the pillow behind you.  You had heard the rumors, the soft words exchanged in dimly lit rooms before you enter them. The lingering, half said sentences that make you falter in your step before you plaster a toothy smile onto your face. The snow fell quietly outside and in any normal situation, you’d find yourself lulled to sleep while watching it but now your mind is occupied with him. His beautiful dark brown eyes and the tiny smile he would wear when you first woke up in the morning. But all of the things you loved (still love) were being shown to someone else now and you didn’t have a right to ruin that. Especially since you had someone too. He treated you right, gave you everything you wanted from the other, but your smile didn’t last that long and his touches didn’t electrify something underneath your skin like before. You were stubborn and you couldn’t, wouldn’t, escape from this. You rolled over and for a moment you were expecting him to be there. His dark fringe covering his eyes but the smile still there, lighting up his whole face regardless with how small it was. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached out to grasp your phone, sitting up quickly as your fingers tapped eagerly against the screen. me. 10:53 PM. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, how have you been? Draft saved. The snow continued to fall well into the next day but you weren’t one to complain since the snow was your favorite. You worked as a receptionist for a private doctor’s office that was open six days a week with late hours. You got good pay for being the only receptionist. Your gaze moved to look out the glass door, watching the falling snowflakes. You met him out there, it was your first month working there and he ran into you, his phone and iPad falling onto the pavement. The first thing to come to your mind was that you were so glad it was his devices and not coffee. But wasn’t this how all love stories started? You weren’t sucked into his eyes but the stark color of his hair. The blond fit him, much to your amusement. And that smile. It was huge and boxy and it made your heart fill to the brim with curiosity and helped the butterflies in your stomach take flight. His large hands steadied you, almost like he had completely forgotten about his fallen items. “Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice deep and smooth, like melted chocolate. This foreign man had you hooked in only a few heartbeats. You were dragged out of your memories when the shrill ringing of the phone caught your attention.  You answered and went on with your duties, the snow still falling steadily outside of your cozy room. Kim Taehyung successfully leaving each of your senses and giving you a moment of peace. him. 8:15 PM. I miss you so much. Deleted. His hand gripped his newly bought phone tightly. Calm down, you can’t break another one. He threw his phone onto his neatly made hotel bed then collapsed into the office chair and ran his hands through his stiff, gel covered hair. You were on his mind lately. Even as he laid in bed next to her, you were there. The hushed voice of Jimin speaking to a mutual friend was forced to the front of his brain and he could hear the woman speaking about you and your new boyfriend and how cute you two were together. That was the first time he had broken his phone, shattering it easily by throwing it against the wall opposite of him. He refused to think that you could have moved on from him even if he had been able to move on to some random girl. The woman he woke up next to in the morning wasn’t you, she wasn’t as beautiful as you, and her smile didn’t spark a fire in his chest like you did. Her dyed blonde hair wasn’t as beautiful as your natural black hair. He didn’t think he got lucky with her, he thought of her as nothing but a replacement for what he lost before. He felt the familiar arms wrap around his neck from behind and it took a lot of control to keep himself from flinching. “Are you okay baby?” He could barely stand her voice anymore. “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be? I just spent nearly fourteen hours on a flight only to be stuck in a hotel because you caught my kitchen on fire,” his voice was dripping with venom that he knew she wouldn’t be able to catch on to. She wasn’t you. She tightened her arms around his neck and laughed as she leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. “Our kitchen, Tae baby. And it wasn’t bad, it was minor and we’ll be home in two days.” He closed his eyes as she began to move her hands down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen. Her acrylic nails attempted to create marks in his skin as she kissed and sucked on his neck. Taehyung’s mind wandered to before, when you had done this to him. Your beautifully manicured nails dug painfully into his stomach as you trailed a line of kisses down to his shoulder before meeting his impatient ones. He turned the chair to meet you and his hands pulled at your hips, settling you down in his lap. Taehyung loved the small gasp you made when his fingers slipped past the waistband of your panties. The small whimpers leaving your mouth made his mouth water and his ego swell. He could be the only one to make those… He looked down at your hand that was gripping his arm and the small diamond that gleamed back at him caused a boxy smile to come onto his face. You were soon to be his forever. He was ripped from his memories when he felt her sit his lap, still wearing her dress and heels. He looked up at her and disappointment shot through him and shook his head. “I’m not feeling it.” “You’re never feeling it,” came the hard response. “Why can’t we have sex anymore? It used to be great, now it’s like the minute I get into it you’re against it. Are you impotent or something?” Her words didn’t affect him the way he thought they should have. No, he thought, you’re just not her. When she went to bed that night he grabbed his phone and went out to his balcony to look over his photos. him. 1:18 AM. We need to talk. Deleted. Taehyung wondered what he was doing here. The woman in the other room was madly in love with him, expecting him to propose every single day of the year while he was stuck in love with another woman who never wanted to speak to him again. You occupied his mind so often that he wasn’t sure what was real and what was just a memory. He felt the ghostly touch of your fingers on his bicep and when he turned he half expected to see your beaming smile and soft eyes beckoning him to come back to sleep. him. 1:21 AM. Can I see you? Sent. On your days off you spent much of it inside, cleaning and catching up with the chores you had forgotten about for the majority of the week. When your hand reached over to grab your phone you hadn’t expected to see a notification and when you did, you regretted waking up right away. Can I see you? What a simple question, but one that caused painful flashbacks. You knew he could see that you had read it but he probably sent it in a drunken stupor after a fight with the beautiful model girl he was dating. She was stunning and you were plain, you could see why he had left you for her. Did he touch her with a gentleness that caused her insides to liquefy or did he touch her like she was forbidden and only show her an excitement that felt unreal? Did he love her like he said he loved you? You buried your face into your pillow as a wave of nostalgia wash over you. The last night you two spent together was filled with hate and fury and you were sure that you two were going to end up killing each other before the clock hit midnight. Pain, that’s all you felt the last night. Taehyung admitting to buying a house back in his home town without letting you know, only expecting you to uproot yourself from Seoul to move to Daegu in less than a week. Then he admitted to meeting with another woman and your whole body stopped working. Your brain shut down momentarily. Taehyung watched you with desperate eyes and you could barely keep yourself together. “What?” Your weak voice betraying you immediately. “A woman?” He seemed to understand what you were insinuating and he tried to stop you from thinking anything but you backed away from him, hands coming between you two. “I thought… I knew you had a past, but you promised me Taehyung,” you whispered, your words catching in your throat as a sob threatened to come up. “No, please, I didn’t mean it like that. I was meeting with her to discuss wedding plans, remember that girl? That model Jimin was friends with? She was offering to help me get you a custom-made dress! I even was giving her your sketches!” He tried hard to grab you in a hug but you kept running away from him. You backed away from him even more and shoved hard at his chest. “No, stop it, don’t push me away! She tried to come onto me, but baby I have you. I don’t need anyone else! I couldn’t possibly want anyone else but you! I want to marry you and settle down with you and I want to have a family,” he whispered the final words, knowing they’d hit you like ton of bricks. You were so weak to him, to his words but this time… “Jungkook told me how he saw you with another woman, kissing her, buying her coffee, driving her in the direction of our home,” you whispered and suddenly the tension and disappointment was palpable. “You cheated on me, didn’t you?” Taehyung’s chest caved in. “I’m sorry,” your worst fear was real. In your mind, he would never touch another woman like he touched you, never bring her to the places you both deemed as yours, never bring another woman to your home… The home you experienced so much love and pain together. “After the mis—“Your head shot up and you weren’t sure if what you were hearing was real. He had betrayed you after something that broke you in more ways than one. He was using it as an excuse to hurt you. Kim Taehyung, the man you fell in love with in college took another woman in his arms because you miscarried your first child together. “I hate you. I hate you so much,” you whispered. “I didn’t want that to happen… I didn’t want to lose her. I’m 23 years old, I wanted to start a family with you! You decided to sleep with another woman because of something I didn’t want to happen!” Your voice raised and your hand landed a sharp slap to his cheek. “I always thought so highly of you… You were my dream man, I never thought about your past while we were together because I could see how you had changed,” your hands ran through your disheveled, slightly greasy hair. “I wanted a family. I wanted a life with you. You brought a woman here, slept in our bed together, all because I miscarried!” Right away there was regret in Taehyung’s eyes. You spotted it but no matter what there was no going back from this. “You can take this back and you can bring Jimin’s model friend here and fuck her, date her, love her, then break her heart,” you said as you (barely) walked over to him and handed him the beautiful diamond ring he had picked for you. Taehyung reached out for you but you pulled back. “You don’t have a right to touch me anymore.” You arrived at a restaurant of his choice and sat down at the designated table, ordering a glass of wine for yourself as you began playing with a ring on your index finger. You had dressed to the nines for this little meeting. A tight black pencil skirt and a beautiful maroon sweater tucked neatly into your skirt with your hair in loose curls and sky high heels that always made you feel powerful. You wondered if you should just disappear before the man you once thought of marrying sat down opposite of you with a sullen look on his face and a shattered phone in his hand. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” he uttered after ordering a glass of wine as well. He was dressed beautifully as well. A black suit with a matching maroon button up, his hair natural and fluffy. If anyone looked over they’d only see a power couple, something you both used to be. You saw the purple splotches on his neck and laughed bitterly, his attention shooting over to you immediately. You could see the realization in his eyes before a hand moved to pull his collar up slightly. “They mean nothing to me,” he whispered before turning to fully face you. He felt sick as he sat there because he didn’t have any right to be there, not after his mistakes. “I know they don’t. Nothing ever means anything to you does it?” You spat, your question was like acid and he could feel his face paling from the roughness. You two were apart for twenty-four months but you were still angry and you had every right to be angry. “I never… I never cheated on you,” the sentence was stupidly simple and it made you soften for a moment because for the first time in all these months you actually believed him. If he told you a year ago that he hadn’t cheated, you might not have believed him.  “I said I was sorry because I had been with a woman but it was just my sister, I kissed her cheek, I took her out to coffee, and then we went back to our place and she drew up plans for the wedding… I showed her your sketches and she had designed this beautiful wedding for us,” he said in this miserable voice, “I just wanted to keep a fucking secret so I could surprise you with everything…” Once again, a laugh was ripped from your throat and it startled both of you because it was so inappropriate. “Then why would you bring that up? Don’t you realize how stressed and sad and fucking miserable I was? I had just gone through that, only four months before and you…” “I was trying to say that after it happened I wanted you to see that I wanted you regardless of it. I wanted to continue to go on with it all regardless of us losing our first daughter,” his eyes held yours as he spoke and you felt yourself falling back into those deep, chocolate pools. “We had barely done anything after and I heard you talking with you sister about how you were scared I was going to leave you and I didn’t want that in your mind. I wanted you to see that you didn’t need to worry about anything because I’d always be there to help and take care of you.” For once, you hated how easy it was for Taehyung to take your breath away. “So, I’ve been believing you cheated on me for two years and it was a lie? And you didn’t try to convince me otherwise?”  What a fool. “Why? Why would you do that? I was so madly in love with you and the idea of being yours forever. I’m with another man, Taehyung. You’re with that model… Why now?” You were half angry at him and half upset with yourself. “Because this whole month has been nothing but you. Everywhere I go I see a spot we went to, I see your face, I feel your hands on me, and I see that insatiable smile that I can’t get enough of. That woman? Nothing to me. That man? Nothing to you. And you can’t lie because we both know there is far too much between us to keep it buried forever.” He was so cocky but he was true. You knew right away that if you left this restaurant without dipping your toes into the sinful deed you hated, you’d be alone forever. The lack of true happiness would swallow you up whole. The hotel was like the one you two shared when you journeyed to Jeju with the rest of the boys after they graduated from university. His hands felt like fire everywhere he touched you and it was too familiar for you to resist. He picked you up effortlessly and rested your back against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist to keep a secure hold on him. “Taehyung,” you breathed as his lips ghosted down your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses right below your ear. “No marks.” A deep growl ripped from his chest and a shudder ran up your body at the feral sound. His possessiveness was showing and it made the small fire light up in your chest. His hands tightened on your hips for a moment as his lips made their way back up to yours. You gave in even more as one hand pushed passed your skirt and teased you over your panties. “Are you always this soaking wet? Fuck,” he murmured into your ear and you shook your head. The soft ‘no’ that left your lips made him moan out before he delved past your lace panties to feel just how excited you were. Another moan left his throat as he easily pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped out his name and tightened a hand in his hair. “How long has it been since you were properly fucked, Y/N?” he asked as his thumb moved up to rub at your clit haphazardly, barely able to keep himself from shaking in anticipation of the upcoming activity. “Twenty-four months,” you answered and he stopped himself for a second and it had you whimpering with need. You were about to speak (or whine) when you felt a hand at your face, grasping it tightly. Your eyes opened and stared at him, his pupils completely blown out with lust and you could see the hints of adoration and love floating around. “You’re mine. And I’ll mark you up if I goddamn well please. And I’ll make you scream my fucking name and your thighs will shake as you come when I bury my fucking head between them,” his lips pressed against yours as he pushed two of his digits inside of you, causing you to eagerly push your hips down onto them. “Yes.. god, yes, Taehyung, please,” you begged and he pulled away from the door to throw you onto the cushy hotel bed, allowing you to fully look over your former lover. “I love you,” the words came out easily and naturally and seeing his big, boxy smile only added into your excitement. “I love you too.” You woke up naked but surprisingly clean, your mind reminded you quickly that you had taken a shower after your little sexcapade. You squeezed your eyes shut because at any moment you could look over and realize that it was just a small little fantasy moment that meant nothing. You were happily not disappointed at the sight to your left. The moments you got to see Taehyung sleeping were one in a million and you always took a picture of it to commemorate what you had seen. But his eyes opened before you could lean over to grab your discarded phone (one that you knew had messages and missed calls wondering where you were). “I thought you were going to leave me here alone,” he whispered, his voice laced with sleep. “I was so scared.” You chuckled a little and shook your head as you leaned over to press a kiss against his familiar lips. “I can’t leave you now,” you whispered. As you laid there, wrapped up in his arms, you could feel the small, invisible demons crawling all over your skin. They were whispering against each and every mark Taehyung had made, reminding you about the man that was still calling, still texting, still worrying. They wanted you to feel guilty while you felt good, right, laying there in Taehyung’s arms while he whispered about a future you two could share together. him. 4:21 PM. Did I ever tell you about how hard it was to fall in love with you? me. 4:21 PM. And why was that? him. 4:25 PM. Because you did so many things that made it easy for others to fall for but I could tell they weren’t really you. Your little flirty touches and your skin-tight outfits… I knew they weren’t you. I couldn’t love someone that was so easy to love, not when I couldn’t see who you really were. When I first slept over and I saw you with that loose bun and the beaten-up sweatpants and the eager way you could shove a whole fucking waffle in your mouth without hesitation for $20… I fell in love there. You didn’t make it easy but the more I got to see the girl underneath the clothes and hair I could see the girl I wanted to make a family with. me. 4:30 PM. I never knew I made it so hard for you, but I would have to say the same about you. him. 4:31 PM. How is that? me. 4:34 PM. You were a fool who forgot that you weren’t the only one looking past barriers. Mr. My-Tiny-Smirk-Made-Panties-Wet-And-Hearts-Drop. The routine was set from that moment six months before but rather than it feeling exhilarating, the both of you were feeling wrong. You’d undress each other and spend those precious moments basking in each other’s glory but now you could see that it wasn’t as fun as the first time. It was much more obvious when both of you met the others at a party for Namjoon and his wife and the start of their joint company. You had a permanent frown on your face the whole time, not wanting to be there with this man as he schmoozed his way into every conversation, handing out his name card like it was something to be proud of. him. 8:34 PM. You look stunning. Spin for me. Your attention was stolen by the text before your head shot up to look for the familiar deep brown eyes that made your butterflies flutter. You caught his eye and did a small spin, the form fitting, knee length black dress not moving an inch. You wore a pair of red high heels that Taehyung had bought you four years before. He seemed to like the look based on the slight raise of his glass of champagne. me. 8:37 PM. Stop looking, pervert. Your eyes flickered over to the woman that was attached to his side before looking at him. The butterflies ceased their movements. Taehyung’s eyes held yours as if he was urging you to try and look away from him but you held your ground, the pain evident in your eyes. You didn’t like this set up. You should be standing next to each other and you shouldn’t be exchanging texts to relay messages to each other. That’s just not how this should be. You felt your arm being tugged on and you looked up at the man that you rarely shared a bed with. He uttered a soft, that’s Kim Taehyung, I heard he’s a great business man, let’s go introduce ourselves. Your stomach twisted up into knots are you walked over to the two, the woman recognizing you right away and grimacing. “Kim Taehyung! It’s so nice to meet you finally! I’m Park Jinyoung and this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N.” The woman began laughing bitterly and the look Taehyung shot her was deadly, forcing her to shut up just as soon as she started. “We know who she is, Mr. Park. My Tae baby and your girlfriend dated several years ago,” she said, her chest practically puffing out as if her ego had swelled just from the mention of it. The emphasis on ‘my’ had your mind reeling. “We don’t wish to have any contact with-“ “Don’t mind her, she has no idea what business is like,” Taehyung extended his hand out to your boyfriend and you smiled sweetly at the model. “She’s a popular model but her business ethic is extremely off, unlike some women I’ve met.” He was mentioning you without being obvious and you were thankful. Taehyung and your boyfriend exchanged cards before you all broke away from the awkward confrontation. Your boyfriend shot you a few angry glances as you both went to grab another glass of champagne. He didn’t bother asking because he knew you wouldn’t answer anyway. When you finally got away from him and went to the bathroom you were graced with the presence of Taehyung and the familiar warm arms. “It’s too obvious if both of us disappear,” you whispered but still turned your head to lay it against his shoulder. You loved him far too much but this was not something either of you particularly liked doing. “Taehyung, let me go, I have to go to the bathroom,” you said as you tried to leave his arms but they tightened around you even more and he shook his head. He was acting like a child, the way he used to act whenever you had to leave bed in the morning to go to school. “I need to get back and congratulate Namjoon,” you muttered but you were weakening and you wanted to stay like that for hours. “You look stunning, my love, purely stunning. Wearing my favorite shoes… You did that just to tease me didn’t you?” his words were light and in no way insinuating either of you disappear into the bathroom together. “I fucking love you,” he said softly against the shell of your ear. Your body tensed up and you knew that this was wrong, you knew that this wasn’t going to end up well for either of you. “I love you too, Taehyung,” you answered and he let out a relieved sigh, almost like he was scared you weren’t in love with him anymore. That’s impossible, you thought, I’ve never loved someone else this strongly. After nearly a year of expensive hotel rooms, vacations, and late night text messages and phone calls, your happy little fantasy was crashing to an end. All with a simple little test you could buy at the drug store. Two small lines that could destroy everything.

him. 3:12 AM. Where are you? I’m scared. him. 8:56 AM. Two days now… Where are you? Call me. Missed call. him, 7:45 PM. Missed call. him, 8:00 PM. Missed Call. him, 9:07 PM. him. 9:09 PM. It’s been a week, fucking call me. Now. NOW. him. 5:39 AM. I miss you so fucking much, please don’t ignore me, message me back. I can’t get sleep like this. I need to know you’re not dead in a fucking ditch. Missed call. him, 6:30 AM. Missed call. him, 9:01 AM. Missed call. him, 4:15 PM. You avoided Taehyung for nearly two weeks before he ended up outside of your apartment with your six other friends. You knew right away that they knew what was happening and the looks on their faces spoke nothing but support and worry over what could possibly be wrong. Jimin was the first to speak. “You are idiots.” Then Seokjin. “Why didn’t either of you contact us?” Namjoon made you laugh a little. “Is sneaking around as much fun as the movies make it seem?” Jungkook stayed quiet and it made you feel awful because you knew he was disappointed. Hoseok shook his head. “Taehyung should have been smarter.” The last was Yoongi and he was always so calculating. Harsh when he needed to be and cool when he needed to lessen the blow he landed. “You’re making a mistake. Both of you have lives, have others you’re supposed to be in love with and starting families with, instead you’re running around like you’re part of a teenage summer fling. Don’t you realize how ridiculous this is? How much money have both of you wasted on each other this past year? For a whole fucking year, you’ve been running around hurting the people that are focused only on you two, while you are abusing that,” he was telling the truth, but you didn’t need to hear it again. You shook your head as you laughed softly, your hands rubbing at your face slowly. You knew very well that you had to end this. “Well then you all must be excited to hear that Jinyoung proposed to me and I accepted,” the lie just came out so easily that you even shocked yourself. You closed your eyes as soon as you felt Taehyung’s hands grabbing at your shoulders. He was begging you quietly to tell him it was a lie, that there was no way you could leave him forever. “He’s getting the ring re-sized so I don’t have it… And we’re expecting.” The words left without much hesitation and Taehyung’s grip loosened. “I haven’t told him yet so please, don’t spread the word, guys,” you tried so hard to sound happy but your throat was closing and you were trying so hard to keep the sob from coming up.   Taehyung backed away and then there was chaos. “No. No, you’re fucking lying. I’m the only man who has touched you! Don’t you fucking dare take away this dream from us! He didn’t propose and you’re not pregnant! Ignore what they have to say, fuck what they say. It’s just me and you now baby, now stop lying and tell me you love me and things can go back to normal,” he was needy and his hands slid up and down your sides in such a desperation that had you breaking down easier. “We can move to Daegu, we can raise our child together, and we can be together again, marry each other and live happily ever after.” You shook your head and finally looked into Taehyung’s eyes because this was it. This child would be raised alone and you would be exiled from every social circle because of your sins. You would raise this tiny bundle of joy all alone and you’d urge Taehyung to propose to his girlfriend, treat her the way she wanted to be treated, have him fall out of love with you because that was the best for everyone at this point. He couldn’t afford to lose clients and connections because you two were enveloped in your own passionate needs. Jungkook finally stood and spoke. “If you’re lying and the baby is Tae-hyung’s I think you’re making a mistake. We all know that if you’re pregnant with his child then there is no way you’ll stay with Jinyoung. Noona, think about this. Three years ago, you were ready to settle down with hyung and create a family and even if you weren’t exactly doing the right thing here… That baby is his and it’s yours and you both need to stop your unnecessary shenanigans and raise it together.” “I’m sorry Kookie, it’s my choice on what I plan on doing with Jinyoung and I’s baby and at this current moment, I just want to go and tell him because this is so fantastic! I finally get a baby… I finally get to live the life I wanted so long ago. I’m twenty-six. I’m getting too old to be fooling around and acting like a child, being able to settle with a man who loves me… and whom I love, it’ll be perfect,” you could feel a tiny piece of your dignity and soul leave your body in that moment and out of the corner of your eyes you could see them float away. Taehyung slammed his fist into your wall and he shook his head, adamant on not giving up this battle. “No. Taehyung, this is not your baby and I do love him. We’ve had sex while we were going behind his back, I’m not going to just give up on him like you wanted me to.” Those beautiful dark orbs were hazy and filled to the brim with a fury that scared even you. “I had a lot of-“ “If you say fun I won’t hesitate to take every single bit of money and all of your possessions. I will take everything away from you because that’s what you’re leaving me with right now,” his voice wavered and you could see the specks of anxiety and sadness mixing together as he spoke. His threats were useless because he knew you’d do whatever the hell you wanted to do. “How about you all just leave me alone? I’ve already lost one child, I can’t lose this one,” you said softly and the men all dropped their heads in respect. Each one gave you a hug before leaving, Yoongi’s lasting a few more seconds, his lips grazing against your ear to speak before letting go and disappearing past your front door. Taehyung’s presence was looming over you as you shut the door behind everyone. He wasn’t going to leave you here, you knew that. You’d have to tell him the truth… “How far along are you?” “The doctor’s said I’m two months along,” you said softly as you sat down at the kitchen island and laid your head down on your arms. “They say if I remain stress free then I’ll be low risk for another miscarriage,” you explained before turning to look at him. Your eyes widened at the sight in front of you. His hair was disheveled and he had tears running down his face as he looked at you, a giant, boxy smile gracing his face. “You’re having a baby, that’s… That’s so fantastic,” you could tell immediately that he had accepted the fate of losing you forever and that you were no longer his girl. “Jinyoung… he’s so naïve but he’s going to make a great dad. Yeah, a fantastic dad. I’m rooting for him. What will you name the baby? Do you still want her name to be Eunha? I thought that was the prettiest name when we picked it out, god… I was so excited. R-Remember when we made up her room? All pretty and pink? I even bought her that ridiculously expensive transforming crib so we could keep it for when she grew bigger? I still,” he let out a sob but attempted to disguise it as a cough then chuckled softly, raising his hand in apology, “I still have it… the crib I mean.” Taehyung shook his head as he laughed, the pain radiating throughout each of his appendages in an uncomfortable fashion that made him forget that you were standing in front of him. “E-Eunha. God, she’s going to be a loved baby, isn’t she? A mother that has never…” You pushed off the chair and ran over to him, burying your face into his chest as you gripped at the back of his navy-blue sweatshirt. “A mother who has never done a bad thing in her whole life… so fucking pure and loved so dearly. Y/N, do you think… if I hadn’t screwed up, we would have already had a family together?” “Taehyung, please, stop,” you begged as your own tears threatened to spill over. “He’s not the father, fuck, I’m so so sorry, Taehyung please,” you knew you’d break down on him but not this quickly, you never thought you could actually get away with this in the first place. You both collapsed to the floor, a big mess of apologies and regrets and devastation. Thousands of words pass between you two, things you hadn’t been able to say to each other before and things you hadn’t bothered to say until now. You ended up with your forehead’s pressed against each other, tiny smiles exchanging between you. He was a handful, but he was your handful… He always had been. From the time you met until now, he was all yours and nothing was ever going to be able to change that. You stood at your balcony door, your hand settling on top of the slight curve of your belly. The snow was falling for the first time this winter and you were happy it was, just in time for his birthday party. You felt the strong, warm arms wrap around your waist and you leaned back against his chest. “Are you ready for the party? Jungkook just came so that’s the last of them… We still haven’t told them yet, y’know,” he whispered. “Do you think they’ll have a shit fit?” “Oh god yeah.” You turned in his arms and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to Taehyung’s lips. “Do you think they’ll think differently of me?” Yoongi’s words still poked at your heart, unsure if they’d still think negatively after two months of no contact. You and Taehyung had taken a reprieve, escaping from reality to enjoy the feel of each other’s skin without any hints of guilt. You had gone to Japan for a couple weeks before going to Hawaii for a month then coming back home to enjoy the move into your beautiful Daegu home. Eloping was also one of your finer moments while being back home. Taehyung dipped you back slightly to press a loving kiss to your lips before pulling away. “They’ve been bugging me to see you for two months, babe. I’m pretty sure they’d always love you regardless of what happened.” Someone burst through the door and you pulled away from Taehyung quickly. “Are we eating soon? Is it Y/N’s famous chicken marsala?” Hoseok’s voice was light and airy like normal and it put you at ease. Taehyung confirmed it was before waiting for the older male to shut the door. “They won’t see the bump until you show them, the dress is just loose enough not to notice.” His words put you even more at ease but the anxiety was still there as you left the room to greet your friends. Yoongi was the first to notice but of course he was kind enough not to say anything, only uttering soft, soothing words into your ear. Each boy made you feel like a damn princess as they showered you with love and affection. And everything made you feel so elated because you weren’t being pushed away, you were once again accepted into the group of boys that you had loved since day one. Like Taehyung, they were your everything and without their support… You didn’t have much to look forward to. They went a little wild when they found out you two wed at a courthouse and forced you both to agree to a proper wedding after the baby was born. Though you’ll never forget what Yoongi said before. Once saddened by the words, now enjoying the sentiment that came along with them. You’re just two sinners in love with access to cell phones. You couldn’t care much about your acts from before because now you were with the love of your life, living a care free life in a home you loved, and pregnant with your first child.   As Taehyung wrapped his arms around you from behind he showed you his phone, a simple draft saved in his phone. him. 7:04 PM. You’re glowing even though you’ve committed another sin. Didn’t you know getting pregnant before marriage was a sin? Even now, you don’t regret complying with the tiny demons that had once crawled all over your skin.

[eedwritingportfolio-blog]

Personal Choice Piece 4

Fiction Piece

Untitled

We meet tentatively, our hands unsure as we explore foreign lands. We talk, getting to know one another, and it is as though we are dancing, spinning around, twirling, beautiful motions that swirl from one spot to another, our thoughts never landing in just the same step, never in sync. (I should’ve known then). Your favorite color is bright red while mine is dark blue. You tell me to stop you when you’ve gone too far. I never do.

It is then that we meet, every night, like clockwork. The clock hand ticks and lands on the hour and your hands are in mine, your voice seeping into the pores of my skin until every cell in my body is spiraling out of control, and I feel my emotions crashing against the muscles, bones, veins of my body as if there isn’t enough room, will never be enough room.  Your favorite song is a rap song, with fast lyrics and a harsh beat. I love soft country, with sweet guitar and a soothing voice. But the way you look at me, the way you bite your lip and yank me up to you, it fills me with a satisfaction I’ve never felt, as no one’s looked at me ever, and especially not like that. You consume me and I succumb, allow myself to teeter and totter, until I’ve tipped off the edge and am falling.

You tell me about your life. Not a worry lines your face when you detail that time you snuck out to go to a party, when you fought the school bully in sixth grade, when you asked your high school girlfriend to prom in front of the entire school. When you mention you scored the winning goal in the championship soccer game, how everyone screamed your name and lifted you up, your eyes are shining and you’ve forgotten all about me as you relive your fame, your bubbling accomplishments that read off like a grocery list with all the memories of excitement and adrenaline, as you retell conversations with teachers who didn’t realize the grade you truly deserved; so you argued with them using words I wouldn’t be able to utter, never faltering from speaking how you truly feel. You spent your years trying new things, things I could only dream of, sky-diving for your birthday and skiing with strangers and sneaking alcohol into banquet halls celebrating your father’s company, who is your father? Why do you never speak of him?

I want to connect with you, want to press the subject but you’re laughing, chuckling about jokes I don’t understand like how that one time your friend didn’t realize his pants were unzipped and he asked a girl on a date with his “jingle my balls” boxers out for her to see and she said yes, he still went on a date with her that night, he got laid and the whole time he was wearing these pink boxers with the words “jingle my balls” sketched across them and you’re laughing and sighing and you miss your friends and you miss the glory and I can see without you saying that you’re ready to chase that glory once again. You are everything I am not and I crave to change this. You tell me about your life while I pray you stay in mine.

You have a poster in your room of a movie I’ve never seen. You say it’s your favorite; I’ve never heard of it. “That’s too bad,” you say as you unbutton my shirt. I know it’s a bad idea; you’ve made it clear this isn’t going anywhere. But when you kiss my neck, when you tug at my hair, I feel wanted, desired. I forget that my parents don’t call me anymore, that the last boy who said he wanted me had betrayed me with a strange girl at a party, that my friend’s sitting up waiting for me, that I’ve got an early class tomorrow and I need to get to bed. I forget it all and I kiss you back, falling into your bed. Our hands wander but our bodies stay separate.

It is the next night when you kiss her. I ignore the quaking of my hands, the contorting of my stomach as I tell everyone that I don’t care. You come back to me to remind me of our friendship, telling me “it’s just college” and that’s what college is about. “You’re great,” you say, twirling one of my curls around your finger as you gaze at my newly painted red toenails. “You’re great, but I think we’re better off as friends. We don’t have that much in common, you know?” My smile is tight as I agree. I cry at night. My bed smells like you.

But then you stumble over, drunk, and it’s late at night and we’ve both been out at different parties but you still came, you still came to see me. I’m drunk but sober enough to know that this is not a good idea. But when your hand reaches out and runs through my hair, when your eyes glaze over and stare into mine like I’m it, like I’m the one, and you grip me like I’m your prize, you clutch my sides so tight I couldn’t leave, you kiss me and I’m leaning into you like a wave that’s about to crash onto the shore but you are the sandy banks and I know it won’t hurt I pray it won’t hurt.

“You know, I usually have a thing for blondes,” you whisper in my ear as you twirl your finger through a dark brown curl. My thick tongue can’t form the words I should be saying and I find your blue eyes with speckles of gray as they look my body up and down but won’t see me.

I am on my way back from a test, my head hurting, my eyes burning from my contacts, my mind swirling with formulas and equations and it is then that I see you with everyone else. I should go to bed, should eat something but instead I sit down. “How are you?” you ask, and it’s how you talk to me so casually, how you ask about me, it makes me feel like I matter. We sit across from one another and look at everywhere, anywhere, but at each other. You give a half smile as though I’ve told a joke and I refrain from grinning uncontrollably. You put me at peace. My shoulders relax and I ache to be closer to you, want to have you lean close and tell me about your day, talk so loud I can just listen, just keep chatting away and not wait for a response, I never respond, you don’t expect me to, don’t want me to; it makes it so easy to just fade away and enjoy your world, feel like I’m a part of it. But we sit in a crowd of people, staring but not staring, and God, I want to kiss you. I hope no one can tell. But then again, I hope they can.

“Are you in your room?” you ask. I am expecting more kisses, expecting something more, (it’s time, its been long enough) but instead when you arrive, you sit in my bed, eyes threatening tears as you tell me your deepest troubles. You want affection, desperately, and you don’t see the imploring in my eyes as I beg you with my hands to love me the way I love you. You tell me you’re waiting, saving yourself for someone special, for the girl of your dreams, for the girl that you’ll fall in love with. I tell myself we’re just friends as I stroke your back and reassure you that she’s coming, she will be there. When you leave, I don’t kiss you goodbye. You don’t notice.

You put your arms around me in front of your friends later in the week, so casually, so easily. They pretend they don’t see. I find myself wondering what this means. When you take me out on the stairwell, our stairwell, I know what is coming before your lips crash against mine and suddenly I’m burning, on fire, my lungs feel as though they will explode and I’m starving, ravenous for your touch. I need to feel something, anything more than this loneliness that threatens to fill me because I know I don’t compare to you, with your wild blue eyes and waving hands. You love roller coasters and thunderstorms. I am afraid of everything you love, but I tell myself I’ll do it for you.

“She’s pretty hot,” you say as you lean over to peer at my phone. I laugh while I tell you that she’s my best friend. When you ask me if I’d care, when you lick your lips and your hands run through your hair as you look at the curves of her chest, I recognize your motions and my words catch in my throat. Your tone is innocent but the words carve their way into my skin like a pen on paper until they’re all I can think about. My body spasms and retracts from your touch because, suddenly, the burning desire is too hot, searing through my clothes and singeing my hair and it smells like charcoal and smoky bonfires as I choke on my own saliva and struggle to form words I know I’ll regret saying. You ask about her in a way that makes me realize that you’ve been thinking about her all along. I am your consolation prize. I am the oyster and you desire the pearl. You flit around the topic and you’re like a match that refuses to light, refuses to acknowledge me, hear my feelings. I feel the ripping of my chest as I dig my nails into my thighs and crunch my teeth together to avoid saying the words I want to say. I tell you its fine if you want to go for her, if you want to make a move. You tell me I’m a great friend. I wish those words didn’t come so easily.

My phone dings at 2:33 A.M and I know that it is you. I have grown accustomed to these texts, find myself anticipating them, despite knowing that nothing has changed. I will be just as empty when you leave as I was before you came. But for those precious few minutes while you are here, while your lips are on mine, I feel happier than I can ever remember. You text me and wonder if I’m awake. I wonder how I could’ve fallen asleep. You pad barefoot down the hall and I have to stop myself from tearing the door off the hinges as I embrace you like the sky embraces its lost stars, gathering them into its jet black arms and stringing them together like a beautiful necklace, glittering and dazzling, reminding us that there is more to life than your lips on my neck and the soft crumpled sheets. There’s more to life than tying myself into a knot around you as though I am a ribbon clutching myself to the present; but when the wrapping paper is torn I am cast aside while you are cherished. You leave when you are done. I lie awake and wonder if I ever will be.

I’m trying to prove I don’t need you and you watch me kiss someone else. My friend cheers me on, her manicured hands clapping as she congratulates herself for bringing me out with her. The music resonates against the wall and I feel as though I’m being suffocated in his touch. I have made a mistake, an awful one, and though we never decided, we never said we couldn’t, I still feel a pit in my stomach, a spreading, engulfing sickness that swallows me whole. The room is too small, so suffocating, and I find myself looking for you even when I know it’s a bad idea. My friend tries to stop me, telling me to be happy, to have fun. I wrench away and she rolls her eyes. When I approach you, my movements are slow, deliberate. You look the other way. When I reach out to touch you, you feign ignorance. When my hands stroke yours, you pull away. You remind me we are just friends. I haven’t forgotten. I just hoped you had. I turn to find her and she has gone. She doesn’t come back.

And I thought I lost you, thought I made a mistake so when you show up at my room and your eyes are tired but you’re there, you’re really there, I ignore the cracking of my bones and the frantic palpitations of my heart as I let you into my bed, pull you close, drink you in. I forget for a moment that this is fleeting; I know you won’t spend the night (you never do) and I know your touch is purposeful. But I allow the sliver of hope to ooze into my heart until it pumps through my veins, reaching my bloodstream as I am literally bleeding out hope and love, cut open and lying on the floor but you leave so soon and your kisses become less frequent and your grip is tight, so tight, and you’re gone before I can even kiss you goodbye. We don’t kiss goodbye anymore.

I tell myself that I’m okay. I haven’t spoken to my parents in weeks. My only friend thinks I’ve lost myself, she tells me as she straightens her blonde hair in my mirror, starting at the roots, as she clamps the device down and burns her own hair. She’s wondering why I don’t hang out with anyone anymore while I watch her from my bed, the only place I find myself being lately. It makes me laugh; she doesn’t know that I never knew myself to begin with.

It has been an entire semester when you finally lose yourself to me. I remember how you promised you were saving yourself for the one you’d love forever, how closely you held that promise to your heart. So when you don’t tell me it means something, I don’t ask. All I ask is if you’re ready and when your eyes sparkle and your kiss is slow, gentle, I absorb your answer into my skin and slip off my clothes like a caterpillar, gliding out of its cocoon. But you don’t wait; you tear at the edges of my cocoon until my wings are free just to pin me down and stop me from flight. But then you shred at my shell, split me in half, my insides exposed for the world to see, my heart trembling on the floor, (as I realize I am vulnerable, so vulnerable). And you collapse against me like a smack of thunder reverberating off the air. I hear you moan, hitting the notes of a song that is slightly off key. I try to tune my piano, try to start at the beginning, but your eyes are on the wall, on the floor, on the tips of my breasts, on the curve of my neck, searching everywhere for the love you never will find. You are loud and honest. Meanwhile I stitch my mouth shut and fantasize about all of the dreams I will never achieve.

“I met a girl today,” you tell me when you roll over. I wait for the punch line. It never comes. She saw the poster in your room and told you she had never seen that movie. “So of course, we had to watch it!” like it is common sense, like that would’ve been your reaction if anyone had said what she had. But all I’m thinking is that’s too bad, that’s too bad, you unbuttoning my shirt, your eyes closing, your tongue reaching my chest, and you never watched a movie with me, we’ve never watched a fucking movie and as you tell me about her, you turn and say, “This isn’t weird, right? After all, we’re just friends”.

I tell you it’s over. You didn’t think there was anything to end. I don’t correct you. It ends as abruptly as it began. It takes all I have, I gather up all of my bones that are scattered across the past semester and try to put myself back together. But I was never good at puzzles. I end it so you can be with her; you don’t tell me I’m beautiful (did you ever?) and her favorite color is scarlet. You two bond over music and my phone doesn’t ding at 2:33 AM anymore. You gush to me about her. I tell myself that I’ll be okay. My shaking hands and tear-stained sheets taunt me, reminding me of how many times I’ve said that before. I text my friend, tell her about what you’ve done. She responds with, well what did you expect? And so I put the phone down, that question a spool of thread unwinding in my mind. You walk your path and I realize I’ve lost the map to mine.

I call my parents. When my mother answers, I am in tears, heaving, choking. She is surprised to hear my voice. She doesn’t remember what I sound like. My father drives out in the storm and picks me up. I climb into the truck and he’s looking at me, his brow furrowed, in his cloth pajamas and when my shoulders shake I don’t know if it is because I want to laugh or cry. They don’t ask what’s wrong; they just know it had to be bad for me to call them. We arrive home, an empty house filled with empty people. I’m not surprised when they tell me that they replaced my room with an office. I sleep on the couch. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to sleep again.

My mother is making pancakes. She doesn’t cook and this image is so cliché, so mother-like, that I throw up in the trashcan when she asks if I want syrup. This isn’t where I belong, this house with its tinted windows and tinted hearts. I belong in your arms, with your booming voice and desiring hands. I crawl back into the couch that pretends to be a bed and tell myself you’ll come back to me. My phone never dings. (We were never really friends, now were we?)

My mother takes me to the mall with her. The blurs of passing shoppers makes me dizzy, and I am so lightheaded that when she puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me, I feel safe. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. When my parents tell me that they’re getting a divorce, I should be surprised. But I’m not. Instead, I ask them if that is what will make them happy. My father looks me in the eye and says, “Sometimes you need to be selfish; you can only give so much”.

That night, I tape together my glass edges. You hold her hand and whisper to her the echo of words you never thought to tell me, that were never mine to hear. I text my friend, apologizing for never realizing how often she came by, how many plans I had cancelled to be with you. I lie in bed and turn on my music so loud that it makes my teeth shake. I don’t like country music anymore.