#i was filling my pill container just now & i recalled

[t-errifier]

a little hack for my migraine - prone mutuals: take magnesium vitamins. my neurologist recommended them to me on top of my regular migraine preventative medication & i saw a massive decrease in my migraines.

[yoonavii]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄

Chapter one

Paring: Miguel x F! Reader

Warnings: violence

A/n: want to read the chapters early? Read from my wattpad. It’s yayoona26

Story description: Distraught from the love betrayal your boyfriend bestowed upon you back on earth -929, you decided to destroy and tamper with his long life work of gear and experiments at Alchemax to get back a him. As you execute your revenge attempt, you came across green-like injections you used to take known as Rapture, and immediately relapsed. But unknowingly as you took multiple, you mistakenly injected one of your ex's rejected prototypes-an injection that can merge human DNA with animal DNA! Groaning and Stumbling as the prototype starts to kick in hard, you lean against a row of switches and buttons, soon setting them off and activating what looked like wormhole! Determined to leave everything behind now that you have no one and no where to live due to the break up, you took the risk and jumped in, not caring what you may get yourself into...

And oh how much you wish you never jumped in and met...

Him.

Tonight was the night you finally understood why people feared silence. Silence can kill you faster than words itself. Especially if you’re at Alchemax. Although the company was well known for its accomplishments in society as well as for the government, it had many faults from within. Liars, cheaters, addicts, the list goes on. In the past you could say that you never knew a colleague in the Research and development department that would fit those titles…but recently, your now ex boyfriend happens to fit all three. Your heart still aches from the recent betrayal, the sharp sting of deception lingering in your thoughts. As you recall the once inseparable bond you shared with him, images of stolen glances and secret smiles come flooding back, now tainted by the painful realization of his infidelity. The wounds of his betrayal are raw, fueling your determination for revenge. The cheater wasted years of your time. Instead of dealing with him, you could’ve been putting more time and effort in your own personal projects and discoveries.

  The building’s AC vents hummed and whined loudly as you walked down the hall with swiftness, soon making a sharp turn down the next hall. ‘You waste my time? Fine.’ You mumbled as you then made it to his lab, walking in. ‘Though, it’s only fair if I return the favor.... .hopefully I make you just as pissed off as I am. if not worse.’ 

As you step into the dimly lit laboratory, the air is heavy with the scent of chemicals and a faint hum of machinery fills the room. Glass beakers and vials line the shelves, containing vibrant liquids of various hues, their contents shimmering under the soft glow of overhead lights. Countless scientific instruments are scattered across the countertops, bearing witness to countless experiments he conducted within these walls. Just seeing such things angered you to the core—even more so that most of his equipment was organized and for the most part clean. Although he was scientifically intelligent, he had issues with cleaning on his own, hence, that's where you come in. You'd help him clean and organize his things just to help him out a bit since he works extreme long hours. But…you haven’t done so for a month. and he never cleans it on his own….

Oh….it was her.

 Overwhelming emotions surge through your veins, fueling a tempest within you. Anguish and anger intertwine as you find yourself standing in the heart of his lab, surrounded by the remnants of your shattered relationship. With each deliberate motion, you unleash your wrath upon his work. Glass shatters, equipment topples, and papers are torn apart, mirroring the shattered fragments of your heart. Amidst the chaos of the lab, your eyes lock onto a familiar jar of pills on a shelf labeled "Rapture." Its appearance triggers a wave of conflicting emotions. Memories of euphoria and bliss clash with the bitter aftermath of addiction. The pill represents both escape and danger, promising a respite from the pain of life while ensnaring you in its alluring grip.

 Taking a deep sigh, you untwist the jar and put your hand in, pulling a few out to take. But whilst of this, your eyes catch a glimpse of a vial tucked away in a forgotten corner. Intrigued by this, you went over towards it and opened its lid to see what was inside. It was an enigmatic pill of iridescent black that seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy. Unknowingly to you, this mysterious pill holds a sinister secret, ready to unleash its transformative power upon an unsuspecting host. “Eh…It shouldn’t be that bad. Maybe it’s a stronger dosage of rapture?”  You questioned yourself as you then gave it a try. As you chewed it down and took a hard swallow, an irreversible alteration began to take hold, merging the strands of your human DNA with that of a spider, bestowing upon you both wonders and perils. 

As the pill dissolves, the side effects follow suit.The effects of the unknown drug ripple through your body like an electric surge, an amalgamation of humanity and arachnid intricately become as one. You experience a heightened awareness of your surroundings, perceiving minute details with newfound precision. Your senses are both heightened and distorted, as the world becomes a symphony of sensations. The tingling of delicate spinnerets beneath your skin hints at the profound changes coursing through your veins. “What the…hell..is going on with…me” you groaned as you then stumbled forward bumping into something hard. You look up to see what it was and immediately back away.

It was the mistress.

you find yourself face to face with the mistress—the source of your pain and humiliation. There's something unsettling about her ease within the lab, as if she belongs there despite being a recent addition. Suspicion hangs in the air like a toxic cloud, intensifying your growing anger. “Well, well, well, look who we have here.” She said “I must say, I'm quite surprised to see you in the lab. I thought my new boyfriend made it quite clear that you’re banned from entering his lab.” Her words cut through the haze, taunting and antagonizing you with a cold, calculated precision. The weight of her accusations—assuming you knew of your banishment and claiming your relationship title—fills you with a mix of confusion, rage, and a nagging sense of truth. Driven by a potent blend of anger and the determination to reclaim your power, you push back against her taunts. You have to. “Banned or not, I won't let you and your deceit go under wraps!” You growled “You crossed the line!”  The woman smirks at your response “oh how noble of you. But do you honestly think you stand a chance against me? You’re just a jilted ex-lover with a grudge.” 

Fueled by adrenaline and anger, you grab the woman’s hair, yanking her backward. She shrieks in pain and fury “how dare you!” She hissed, as she swung her arms, attempting to free herself from your grip. “You’ll regret putting your hands on me!” A fierce struggle ensues as you continue holding onto the hair, refusing to let go. You both grapple with each other, bodies twisting and turning in a desperate dance of dominance. The lab echoes with grunts and the sound of scuffling feet.

With a surge of strength, the mistress retaliates, pushing against your chest and causing you to stumble backward. The force propels you greatly, your back slamming against the cold, hard wall. Pain shoots through your body. you try to summon the strength to retaliate, but your body refuses to cooperate. Helplessness washes over you, yet defiance glimmers in your eyes. The mistress, reveling in her moment of triumph, looks down at you with a wicked smile curling upon her lips as she messes with something resembling a watch. Her eyes gleam with a mix of amusement and sadistic pleasure, relishing in your suffering. “Do you know what’s interesting?” She spoke again “Parallel earths. Each with its own lives and possibilities. It’s a shame you won’t live long enough to explore each one.” 

Although your face contorted with pain, you managed a defiant smile. With a flicker of determination, you gather what little strength you had left and summon a mixture of saliva and blood in your mouth. With a forceful expulsion, you spit at the mistress’s face, the vile mixture finding its mark. “You may have your way now…” you said, voice strained yet filled with defiance “but not forever. I'm guessing you’re sending me to one? Do it. Anywhere else is better than this place. And I’ll live you idiot…and when I do, I’ll find a man that will stand by me and be my true ride or die.” The spit dribbles down the mistress’s face, a mixture of disgust and fury contorting her features. She wipes it away with a sneer, momentarily thrown off balance by the unexpected act of defiance. “You think love can save you? You’re delusional. I’m sending you to a place where love will be a distant memory, where nobody will find you or care about you.” You laugh loudly, despite the pain. “No you’re delusional becky.” You snapped back “Love has a way of finding its path even in the darkest corners. I will find a man, no, husband who will love me ten times better than the one that loves you!” laughter echoes through the lab, a testament to your resilience and unwavering spirit. Though battered and broken, you refused to succumb to the mistress’s cruel intentions. 

Suddenly in the midst of it all, a vivid orange hex portal materializes before you. Its pulsating energy casts an eerie glow, beckoning with the promise of an unknown destination. As the portal crackles with otherworldly energy, the mistress kicks you forcefully, propelling your body into the swirling vortex. Time seems to slow down as you hurtle through, a primal scream escaping your lips. Your body tumbles and spins uncontrollably, carried by the unseen forces within the portal. The surroundings blur, colors blending together in a disorienting whirlwind. Fear grips your heart tremendously, and your mind races with thoughts of uncertainty and the unknown.

————-

As fate would have it, your death fall was abruptly halted as you crashed into a vast, towering heap of refuse. The impact reverberates through your body, leaving you momentarily disoriented and gasping for air. Slowly, you pull yourself out from the jumble of discarded items, wincing at the discomfort and the stench that fills the air. “Ah…what is this?… Am I dead?..” you thought. The stench of decay and filth fills the air, assaulting your senses by the second. Disgusted, you immediately get up, brushing off any debris on yourself whilst scanning your surroundings. Before you stretch a bustling, futuristic cityscape, its towering skyscrapers reach toward the sky. Neon lights cast an otherworldly glow upon the sleek and streamlined architecture, creating a mesmerizing tapestry of colors and reflections. The city hums with energy, its streets filled with a constant flow of people, hover cars zipping through the air, and holographic displays illuminating the busy sidewalks. 

“This…this is amazing—”

Soon enough your senses are abruptly assaulted by a chilling scene unfolding before your eyes. A hooded figure, consumed by darkness, viciously takes the life of a helpless woman just steps away from you. Shock freezes you in place as a spray of crimson blood splatters across your face, an indelible mark of the horrific act. As the murderer turns his gaze upon you, his eyes filled with menace and realization, panic courses through your veins. Without a moment’s hesitation, he flees into the labyrinthine streets, leaving you alone with your shock and horror. Trembling and disoriented, you collapse to the ground, drawn to the lifeless body of the woman. 

Desperate for help, you cry out into the chaotic city, your voice a plea drowned in the cacophony of futuristic existence. The bustling crowd rushes past, oblivious to your distress, as if you were a ghost in their midst. Tears stream down your face as the weight of solitude bears down upon you, compounding the tragedy unfolding before your eyes.As your gaze falls upon the lifeless face of the woman, recognition sets in like a lightning bolt. It’s you, a mirror image from another Earth, a chilling realization that confirms the existence of alternate dimensions you once theorized. Thoughts race through your mind, piecing together fragments of understanding amidst the chaos. This city, this earth, holds secrets, mysteries, and dangers beyond your wildest imagination. You lift your gaze to the sky, searching for any trace of the hex portal that had whisked you away from the lab, but it vanished without a trace. Frustration mingles with the lingering shock of the gruesome scene before you. As you lean closer to the doppelgänger’s disfigured face, a mixture of sorrow and fear grips your heart. The brutality of her demise is etched upon her features, a haunting reminder of the evil that exists within this parallel world. Questions swirl in your mind, seeking answers to the inexplicable. Why was she killed? Was it a case of mistaken identity or something more sinister? A theory begins to take shape, drawing connections between the murder and your cheating ex-boyfriend from your own world. Could he too have a doppelgänger in this new reality, and is he the one responsible for the violence that unfolded?

Amidst the chaos and confusion, a daring plan forms in your mind. This unexpected convergence of fate offers you a chance at a fresh start, an opportunity to assume the identity of your deceased doppelgänger. With a mixture of apprehension and resolve, you carefully collect her personal belongings, aware of the risk and the weight of this decision. Counting to three, you summon the strength to  drag the lifeless body, your doppelgänger, away from the alley. Your eyes scan the surroundings until they land upon a dump truck in the distance, its occupants oblivious to your presence. Acting swiftly, you drag her to the back of the truck and toss her inside as one of the truck doors opens. Taking cover within the safety of the alleyway, you watch as the truck’s machinery comes to life. The walls of the dump truck begin to oscillate, exerting immense force upon the contents within. The scene unfolds before your eyes, simultaneously gruesome and cathartic. The crushing power of the moving wall grinds the trash and the lifeless body together, erasing the evidence of your doppelgänger’s tragic demise. 

“Rest in peace y/n…” you whispered

As the truck drives away, carrying the remnants of a life extinguished, you’re left with a mix of relief and trepidation. With trembling hands, you clutch the doppelgänger’s phone, your curiosity piqued by the secrets it holds. You gaze at the locked screen, a selfie of your oppelgänger and a handsome man, their smiles filled with genuine happiness. A pang of longing stirs within you as you realize that her doppelgänger had shared a deep connection with this mysterious man. “So, she had someone special in her life too. That’s good” you whispered, a wistful smile forming. 

As you bypass the phone’s security with facial recognition, your heart quickens with anticipation. The screen lights up, revealing a series of recent text messages. Your eyes widen as she scans the name at the top of the screen—Miguel. Intrigued, you tap on the name, delving into a private world of intimate and flirtatious conversations. “Oh my…these messages are…something” you claimed, voice tinged with excitement. Your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and intrigue as you read the playful exchanges, the hidden desires, and the promises of passion. Each message carries a hint of intimacy that ignites a flicker of longing within your own heart. It’s a tantalizing glimpse into the doppelgänger’s romantic escapades, and you can’t help but feel a surge of curiosity and a twinge of envy.

“Miguel…” you whisper to yourself, now going through her doppelgänger’s personal notes in her phone “I wonder what kind of person you are.”

©𝐘𝐀𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Kickstart My Heart Pt.II (Kang Yeosang) Rated

<<Previous // Next>>

Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress!/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Light Angst, Crack, 80s Au.

Summary: Getting the chance to spend time alone with Y/N, Yeosang jumps at the opportunity, getting a little more than he bargained for.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Dumb attempts at humor, second hand embarrassment, Lynn is still creepy, slight voyeurism/ exhibitionism, making out in car, heavy petting, allusions to oral (male receiving).

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The two best friends giggled amongst themselves as they entered inside the establishment, hands full of bags that contained to go boxes with several assorted sandwiches, burgers and fries inside of them. Hearing the bell signal customers, the peppy blonde at the front counter looked up from the thick stack of papers in front of her, mouth automatically showcasing her perfect and commercial worthy smile she always used when greeting newcomers or even regulars.

"Good afternoon what can-" Her expression immediately soured, smile fading and in its place puckered lips took shape.

"Oh... it's just you two." She drawled out the last words, eyes rolling as she peered back at the papers she was busy with.

Looking over at each other, Lynn simply shrugged her shoulders as one of her eyebrows raised up in puzzlement. Meanwhile, Y/N couldn't contain the soft snort that passed through her tight sealed lips, the sound coming out more like a goofy raspberry that further irritated the girl at the counter.

"Hey Sora. How's your day going so far?" Y/N tried to make conversation, but it was obvious the girl wasn't having it, blatantly ignoring both of them as her hand scribbled even faster, pages being turnt at a fast speed. Shifting awkwardly in her stance, Y/N turned her head to look at her friend, who merely shook her head, face clearly indicating to her to not try to act nicer and to simply get to the point of why they had come all the way to the workshop.

"Are the boys still here?"

With a few muttered grumbles, Sora lifted her pen and pointed it behind her towards the door that led to the garage, silently answering where the mentioned individuals currently were.

"Thanks."

Sora let out a scoff as the two girls made their past the counter, annoyed ever so vastly by the fact she had no authority nor power to forbid them from going to the back. Being friends with Wooyoung and the rest of the gang, obviously they got special privileges that allowed them to come and go as they pleased not only in the shop but also down at the tracks. And frankly Sora hated it, hence why she didn't refrain from demonstrating her hostility towards Y/N and Lynn, but especially towards the latter for more personal and complicated reasons that everyone was aware of but Lynn herself.

"I don't know why you go out of your way to be friendly towards her. She's been needing to take a chill pill ever since high school." Lynn retorted. Putting down the bags she was carrying for a moment, she pulled the sides of her oversized denim jacket back over her shoulders, the top having slipped off rather uncomfortably on her torso.

"Honestly?...... merely to piss her off." Y/N snickered maliciously, her true intentions finally coming to light.

"Well I'd say you do a fantastic job then. She just takes one look at you and her blood is boiling." Lynn pointed out as she picked up the bags once more.

"Trust me Lynn, you anger her more than I do." Thay statement made the petite girl do a double take at the office behind them.

"Me? Whatever did I do to Barbie?" She questioned, never once recalling a moment where she even spoke two words to the preppy girl that wasn't a casual greeting or goodbye.

Y/N looked with a deadpanned expression to her friend.

"You seriously don't- you know what? Never mind."

Not wanting to waste time trying to explain to her frequently unobservant buddy why Sora had a price on her head, Y/N just quickly rushed over towards the group of men huddled around the red Ferrari F40, one of them hidden underneath it, no doubt in the process of checking or fixing minor issues. Seeing the girls approaching them, all of the boys quickly sprang to life, Wooyoung leading the entourage as they came up towards them.

"So our lovely diner girls actually decided to join us for a movie night. I knew you guys couldn't resist my deadly charm."

Not only were the girls unamused by his little joke, but even his friends behind him shook their heads, disapproving greatly of his overly confident and light narcissistic attitude that he exuded at times.

"I only came cause I am not going to spend a perfectly good Friday night cooped up in my house watching Dynasty." Y/N firmly stated, shutting down any further attempts of flirting directed towards her.

"I like to see people get stabbed or gutted to death."

Cringing at the macabre girl's overly calm response, Wooyoung tilted his head back and looked at the tallest member of the gang, nose crinkling significantly as he silently mouthed a few words over to him, deeply questioning his friend's taste. Said friend simply shrugged and stepped up closer towards the girls, not surprising anyone that he'd pick a stance that had him facing Lynn from the front as he always liked to do.

"Well I'm just really happy you guys decided to join us. I thought you would be happy at knowing it was a horror film."

Not too far behind him, San and Mingi were already giggling amongst themselves, sending each other signals and jokingly theorizing how the night was going to go like.

"I am exceedingly happy Yunho. My body is so filled with joy and immense contentment that I can hardly keep myself from grinning." Despite the jubilant sentence, Lynn's face displayed absolutely no emotion and her raspy and low toned voice was still as monotone and lifeless as it tended to be. Yunho's bright smile nearly faltered, feet rocking back and forth awkwardly as he did not know how to proceed after such a statement. Luckily Mingi stepped in and changed the topic.

"Please tell me there's food in those bags and that we can have some." He pointed to one of the many bags that the girls were carrying.

Lifting one hand up then the other, Y/N shook the contents lightly.

"Your favorites." She chuckled when San came up and tightly squeezed her body into a hug.

"This is why I love you both." Y/N did not mind the slightest bit when he suddenly pulled her face towards his, mouth pressing hard and intense pecks on her cheek repeatedly as a show of gratitude. She was so used to his affectionate nature.

Turning around, Wooyoung cupped his hands over his mouth so that his voice could resonate loudly.

"Yeosang quit tinkering with it already! You're going to get dirty and we have a movie to catch." He shouted at whom the girls presumed was under the race car.

"You literally have speakers built into your vocal chords, there was no need for that makeshift megaphone." Lynn grumbled at him, causing the male next to her to burst out in a fit of giggles.

"Speakers built in hie vocal chords. Good one." Lifting his hand up, Yunho held it up towards Lynn, expecting her to high five him back but was instead met with her cold, squinting eyes that inspected his palm.

"Your aura is overly forced....and you have leftover grease on your hand." She looked away after finishing that sentence. Hearing her say that made Yunho instantly check his hand, immediately wiping it off on his jeans as he mentally slapped himself for looking like an idiot in front of the girl he fancied.

Not paying mind to whatever was happening around her, Y/N's eyes were glued on the figure that emerged from under the car. She couldn't help but admire the strong and buff biceps that were peeking out of the plain white tshirt the man was wearing, sleeves slightly rolled up above his shoulders. The angelic face belonging to him looked even more dazzling due to the light sheen of sweat around his temples, no doubt caused by the work he was doing. Even as he reached for one of the cleaning towels so he could wipe the grime and oil off his hands, Y/N continued to gaze at Yeosang, mind already conjuring up many ideas and fantasies with him as the main protagonist.

"Oh sweetie, you're not making this any easier." She mused inwardly, one of her fingers twirling a strand of her hair.

Discarding the rag on one of the toolboxes nearby, Yeosang carefully approached the group of friends, still awkward in interacting with all of them, trait that only helped in making him stand out like a sore thumb, more than he already did. Clamping a hand over his new buddy's shoulder, Wooyoung brought a hand up and patted one of his squishy cheeks.

"Now that you're finally here we can go." Looking around, Wooyoung gestured around.

"So who's riding with who?"

Immediately Yunho turned his face towards the girl next to him, about to voice out his want of having her in his car, but it seemed as if his plans would fall through as Mingi latched an arm around him.

"I'm going with Yunho." He seemed determined not to let go of him.

"Why? So you can cling to him during the scary parts?" A chorus of laughter poured out at San's amusing words.

"As if!" Mingi huffed, though it was more than obvious to everyone that it was precisely as San had predicted.

"Mingi... I was kinda hoping I could... you know?" Yunho tilted his head over to Lynn, making him get the picture of what he wanted.

"Whatever happened to bros before hoes?" Mingi sighed as he detached himself from Yunho.

"Ok then. Yunho you go with Mingi, San you can take the girls and I'll keep Sangie here company since he's still a little bit shy you know."

It seemed as if it was all decided about how their night was going to run, so Y/N knew she had to speak up and take the opportunity before it was all settled.

"Why don't I ride with Yeosang instead?"

Hearing her suggestion, the male in question widened his eyes in shock, not expecting her to voice that out loud. Even Wooyoung found it slightly odd and suspicious that she'd say that. But then he remembered the type of girl Y/N was and it started to set off alarm bells in his mind.

"Oh it's ok Y/N. You probably won't like to have him scream in your ear and cover his eyes like a baby at the jump scares." Not taking kindly to such blasphemous talk about him that painted an inaccurate picture.

But Y/N remained undeterred. She would stand her ground no matter what.

"Oh please, I insist. I'd love to take care of him..." She did not hide the sultry way she said that last part, eyes locked on Yeosang's, the boy swallowing hard and pressing himself further into Wooyoung's side. Wanting to bargain even further, Y/N took hold of her friend.

"How about this? Lynn goes with Yunho and Mingi, you ride with San and I get Yeosang?"

San cupped a hand over his mouth to muffle the laugh he wanted so desperately to release.

"I don't think it's just him she wants to get." He chuckled to himself.

"You're seriously leaving me alone with these 2 giants?" Lynn pointed to the two men at her right, one of which obviously was more than willing to welcome the arrangement.

"I promise Mingi won't disturb you too much with his crying." Yunho swore to her, hand coming up to clasp around Mingi's mouth when he attempted to protest that decision.

Wooyoung looked over to Yeosang, leaning in and dropping his voice so that only he could hear.

"If you don't want to, just say the word and I'll get her off your case." He offered. Although they had only met just a couple days ago, Wooyoung felt compelled and obligated to look out for the new boy, even if it meant protecting him from his other friends.

Knowing that he probably shouldn't and that it was a bad idea, Yeosang glanced over at Y/N. Meeting her eager eyes and cunning smile, any resolve to stay close to Wooyoung was immediately dispelled from his mind. He might never get another opportunity such as was presented to him and he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was rather curious to find out more about the young vixen that he had heard so much about since he moved into town. With an assured smile that slightly worried Wooyoung, Yeosang stepped forward and held out his hand towards Y/N.

"Shall we get going then?"

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Unable to focus his attention towards the gigantic screen right in front of him, Yeosang slumped down further in his seat, fingers tugging his red sweater over his body. Every few seconds or so, he'd turn his head to peer at the girl on the passenger seat, looking exceedingly calm and collected unlike him. He was overly anxious to the point his food was still untouched, sitting in the backseat, long forgotten. Y/N, although collected, was bored out of her mind, elbow rested on the window, head being supported on her palm as her eyes never lingered away from the gore filled scenes being displayed across from them. There was a deafening silence inside the black Iroc Camaro, the tension between both individuals becoming increasingly thick.

Becoming desperate after 40 minutes of not getting him to make a move or even attempt to break the ice, she decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. Unzipping her green varsity jacket, Y/N began to slide it off her shoulders, revealing the low cut crop tank that she was hiding thus far.

"It's so hot today, don't you think?" She asked him as she tossed the clothing item behind her before settling back into her seat, fighting hard to keep her signature smirk off her face.

If he wasn't feeling hot before, Yeosang certainly started to feel heated after she had taken off her jacket. His hand reached out to grab the cup of soda in the cup holder, gulping most of the contents and ice down to help cool him down. He made an effort not to glance back at his companion anymore, knowing if he did he would have been unable to keep his eyes off her chest. Although it was dark and he turned away almost immediately, he had not missed the fact that she had chosen not to wear a bra, her nipples slightly poking out through the thin and flimsy shirt that even slowed one to make out the outline of her areolas. It was definitely a weakness of his, and Y/N was quick to find that out. Thumb coming up to her mouth, she began biting down on the nail to keep from giggling at Yeosang's reaction. He was devastatingly adorable with his wide eyes and stiffened posture, knee restlessly bouncing up in an agitated fashion. Looking in between his legs, she felt disappointed that she hadn't caused enough damage to earn a tent forming in his pants. He obviously knew how to calm himself in time. That wasn't enough to make her give up. On the contrary, it only hardened her resolve to get him to break.

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, she reached her hands inside of her tank top. Cupping her breasts in her palms, she started off with slow movements, massaging them gently. Her eyelids started to flutter, closing only briefly as very faint and soft sighs were being exhaled through her nose. Although it was mostly done to tease the boy next to her, she got carried away and started to become more and more turned on with what she was doing. Each time she'd purposefully pinch and pull at her hardening peaks, a muffled whine would be heard coming from her throat, legs starting to spread inch by inch as her planters started to stick against her core.

Opening her eyes and tilting her head, she witnessed Yeosang's astounded expression that also held some lust in it. He was no longer sipping from his drink, but rather his teeth and tongue were merely toying around with the blue plastic straw as the grip on the base of the cup was lightly crushing it. The movie ultimately failed its purpose of keeping him distracted as his attention had fully diverted over to the sexy girl next to him, watching intently as she pleasured herself, wishing that it were his hands instead that were ministering such devotion to her breasts.

"Wanna be a doll and help me out here?" It seemed as if she had read his mind.

Without even a second of hesitation, Yeosang reached down and adjusted his seat back as far as it could go. Jumping at the invitation, Y/N climbed on top of him until she was straddling his lap. Yeosang's hands eagerly clasped around her waist, thumbs circling on the skin of her exposed abdomen. Cupping his cheeks, Y/N leaned her face down and harshly entangled her lips over his own. Yeosang hummed softly as he tasted the remnants of her cherry flavored chapstick, head tilting back when one of her hands tugged at his hair. His hands didn't hesitate to trail up and cup her mounds through her shirt, taking over the job that was previously being done by the owner's hands. Her insistent mouth parted his trembling lips, tongue poking out ever so slowly until it began divulging in the sweet taste of his wet cavern. Although he was no stranger to French kissing, Yeosang had never experienced a makeout session as intense as the one Y/N offered. She was very skilled and experienced, as proven by the swirl and swivel of her tongue against his own. He couldn't stop the moans pouring out from inside him, his hips bucking up into hers as if on instinct while his hands became more harsh and aggressive as they grasped at her breasts with near ferocity. Y/N would only pull away from their kiss for a few seconds to allow him to catch his breath before her lips lured him back into her. It was finally dawning on Yeosang's mind why so many men became captivated by her charms, even when knowing what the outcome would be. Here he was, the most lovely and hottest girl he'd ever met in his life, on his lap, making out with her while simultaneously getting to second base. He felt so damn lucky. But Y/N wanted to take it up a notch, not satisfied with ending the night with just heavy petting.

Sliding off his lap, she suprised him when she took hold of his belt and began to take it off him. Getting an inkling as to what she might have had in mind, Yeosang took hold of her wrist, making her head shot up at him.

"Is something wrong?" She began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Had she really fucked things up already.

Yeosang turned beet red as he swallowed harshly, trying hard to form the words his head was attempting to sought.

"Are you.... are you a virgin?" She felt like she would have died if the answer was yes.

Seeing her worried face, Yeosang quickly shook his head.

"No! I'm most certainly not a virgin." He sounded almost offended at the insinuation, but it helped calm Y/N down, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"I just...I've never tried...that before."

His confession just made him cuter in her eyes, previous desire to corrupt and play with him only heightening to new levels after that revelation. Wanting to entice him, she moved her hand to cup at his bulge, loving the way he immediately gasped when she started palming him through his jeans. He bit down at his lip so harshly he believed it would draw blood. He wouldn't contain himself as he bucked his hips up into her palm, desperately wanting her to help him out with his problem. When her fingers reached for his zipper again, he didn't stop her, he merely lifted his hips up to help her as she pulled his pants down by the belt loops, his hardened cock popping out to greet her, surprising her when she noticed how large and thick it was, the head leaking with precum which she used to her advantage and began spreading it down his shaft. The contact of her hand gripping him had Yeosang shuddering, low groaning spilling out his lips. Looking up at him with a devilish grin, Y/N began lowering her head until her lips brushed against his tip.

"Just sit back and relax pretty boy."

A raspy wheeze was caught in Yeosang's throat as soon as he felt her warm mouth on his length, hands flying behind him to clutch at the leather seat of the car. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt so dirty, so wrong and yet he wanted it. He wanted her........

He didn't care if he was playing with fire and he'd get burned by the end of it.

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @deja-vux @hanatiny @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters @minhyukmyluv @rainteez02 @nanamarkie @serialee

[akaashisupremacy]

Yes, Always

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo try to pick up the pieces, what does love look like?

Gojo Satoru  x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: Mostly fluff, lil bit of domestic angst, exes to friends to lovers (wc: 1.8k)

“How on earth are you still bed when the sun is setting? Gojo Satoru dramatically bursts into your apartment. The door flings open and you’re sure the knob dented the wall. 

You don’t even blink. His theatrics rarely faze you anymore. You shift on your bed to face the wall. 

You don’t have energy for this. 

Gojo knows you since your childhood. You hadn’t always been so easy to tire. But Jujutsu work was a lot. It accumulated fatigue that  drained you physically and emotionally ever so often. 

“You cancelled on Ieri, I knew something was up and I was right!” he placed his hands on his hips. He walks over to you.

You yawn and ignore him. 

Gojo opens a window and pulls out your covers in response. 

“Hey!” you yelp. 

“You go shower while I make you something to eat.” he commands. 

You continue to ignore him. 

He tries to haul you off the bed and into the tub. 

You finally sit up, crossed beyond words. He kneels down so he can look up to you.

“You need a warm shower. It will help you feel better, I promise.” he says firmly, “Get yourself some fresh clothes. I’ll run you a bath.” His tone is is a mix of stern and gentle in away you don’t hear often. 

You grudgingly get up and do as he says. 

You drag yourself off the bed and into the bathroom. As you body soak in the hot water, the fatigue peel off and you feel re energised. You look up at the steam that floats around you. 

Your reverie is interrupted by the kitchen noises.

Why was he doing this? You thought to yourself. This wasn’t like him to cross the boundaries of your home and to check up on you. Sure you were dating, but coming over was way too cozy for Gojo who only ever dated casually. 

You walk out in new clothes, hair still dripping wet. 

Gojo had set up a pot over a portable stove on your dinner table with some food already boiling away. The smell of dinner on the way was already wafting in the air. 

“Thanks for doing this.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into his chest. 

Gojo resists the urge to pull away or look extremely nonchalant. He’a never been good with commitment or sincere expressions pf affection. 

“The water was nice.” you added. 

He carefully plants his hand your nape and press your forehead on his lips. You body is still warm from the shower. It still shocks him how close he can hold you. 

“If you like the water so much we can go swimming in the summer.” he nods, “I’ve always wanted to go to Okinawa and go diving or snorkeling.”

You briefly pull away, “If we’re still seeing each other.”

He hesitates, “We will.” 

“How do you know we’ll last till then?” 

“I just do.” he pushes. 

“Sure,” you take tour arms off him.

Gojo is not good at commitment. It is hard for him to sustain his interest in any one person, which you’ve accepted when you began dating him. Your set-up isn’t even exclusive. Why was he kidding himself? 

Now that you’ve detached yourself from him. He heads back to the kitchen counter. 

“Because this is the hardest I’ve tried.” he replies softly, “I’m concerned about you you think and how I make you feel. I don’t think I can take the weight of disappointment if things spiral a second time.”

You look at him as he prepares so vegetables. Gojo was your technically your ex-fiancee. You thought the break-up freed him. Maybe you weren’t completely right. 

This is your second shot of your relationship. Why are you surprised that he’s trying so hard? Why is it difficult for you to believe in his sincerity? 

“Okinawa sounds nice, I want some oysters.” you reply, taking out some bowls and chopsticks. 

“I want to see you in a bikini.” He smirks. 

You instinctively throw a towel at him. He dodges with a grin. 

As the meatballs begin to cook, you both take a seat. Gojo recalls his conversation with his student earlier today. 

“Yuuji,” Gojo called out as he enters the kitchen, “I need you to teach me how to make meatballs. I’m bringing them over for a friend.” 

Itadori Yuuji is busy cutting up some mushrooms. Must be hotpot night again for the students. 

“Here take this, this is ready made.” he pulls out a container of meatballs from the fridge.

“Aren’t you going to teach me how o make it?” Gojo asks his student, slightly perplexed.

“You look like you’re in a rush. I can teach you another time,” Iatdori smiles congenially and waves his hand. He causally takes the meat and scallions from Gojo’s bag and begin prepping them for his meal. 

“Is this for you ex-wife?” he causally asks his teacher. 

Gojo snorts, “Ex-fiancee. Yeah that one, they’re not feeling well today. I’m going to drop off something to eat.”

“I think it’s kind of nice you’re a second try.” Yuuji grins good naturedly. 

“The first time wasn’t really a try. Our engagement was arranged.” Gojo packs some other things onto a bag, “Our marriage would have ended in flames if we had pushed through.”

“Yeah, but even if you had married, I think it would eventually work out. It might take years but you clearly do get along and you’re attracted to each other. You’re both willing to put in the work.” Yuuji reasons. 

“Just people try doesn’t mean they always succeed.” Gojo mutters. Yuuji is the eternal optimist. 

“Its not gonna work any better if you don try at all. Relationships aren’t a one time task.” 

“Why can’t you just teach me? It’ll take just a little bit of time.” Gojo asks again. He slings the bag over his shoulder, ready to head out. 

“But a little bit of time is still worth something. More time together is always good.” Yuuji nods. 

“Just take it sensei,” Itadori said before he left the school, “Make the most out of today.” 

——————————————————————

After dinner, you yawn. Gojo goes over your side and sweeps you off your chair. Your legs are dangling awkwardly over his arms. This feels so new yet strangely comfortable.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

He looks into your eyes, framed by your lashes. Warmth has returned to your cheeks. Your face is brighter than when he first came. 

You lace your arms around his neck. 

Gojo has never been to your house on a personal visit before. He doesn’t know how to feel in this new kind of intimacy—an intimacy outside of sex. It is intensely emotional for him to see you at your lowest, at home, without the trappings of your jujutsu powers or even you work coat. 

Who were you outside your jujutsu sorcerer? Who were the two of you outside of your jujutsu connections? 

“Put me down, I want to stand.” you quietly request. He relents. 

When Gojo gets up to do the dishes, you follow. You’re standing side by side, elbows bumping as a creeping sense of domesticity inches up his spine. 

Gojo prefers to eat out. Cleaning up after dinner was like breakfast after sex—too much commitment. 

“If this is freaking you out, we can stop.” You mumble, quickly reading through him “I can do the dishes and you can just go.”

He’s surprised by the exit you create for him, but he buckles down.

“I’m not running away from anything tonight.” he says. He’s shirking from extra time, not from his feelings and definitely not from you. 

He fills his ears with the sound of clanking dishes and your slow and steady breath. His time today was your anyways. Why would he take it back? Domesticity is unfamiliar, but he so badly wants to give it a shot. 

After all the dishes are put aside, you wipe his hands dry with the kitchen towel. His heart is racing, his palms sweaty. He thinks about cracking a joke to hide his tension, but decides otherwise. 

You eyes look steadily at him, as if testing him to see if he will sat or go. He takes the towel and gently dries off your hands, careful to get in between your fingers and to be gentle around your wrists. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” he remarks, “even if you don’t believe me.”

“I’m really trying.” he adds. 

“I believe you.” you nod. Some of the tension and discomfort in his face fades. 

You walk towards your room, “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

He scurries behind you, turning off the lights as he goes “Can I lie down beside you?”

You’re taken by surprise but you don’t let it show. 

“Sure.”

Gojo mostly lies on top of the sheets and he watches you tuck yourself in. You look so young like this — pajamas, no make up, no work clothes. 

You were arranged to be married by 20 and you look just that age. He notices you staring back at him, inspecting him in this new angle you’re both experiencing for the first time. 

“Did you ever think about what our first night would be like?” you ask candidly.  

He rolls onto his back and stares into the ceiling, “It would probably be awkward. I’ve thought about taking a sleeping pill to knock myself out. What about you?”

“Just the usual stuff.” you shrug. 

“What usual stuff?” he prods. 

You make a face and reply, “I guess I expected you’ll about some of my habits that I’m embarrassed about eventually.”

“It’s not the sex?” he asks surprised. 

You laugh and shake your head. When you were younger you were curious about it, but once you learned what it was it didn’t seem as interesting to you. 

“No, I thought the sex would just make me sad. Judging by the way things were going then, you’d be thinking of someone else while I give myself to you.” you turn away from him as you talk, sheepish to voice your hurt out loud and look at him in the eye at the same time, “You’d make me feel small, like my family did. For most of my life, my only value was to be married to you and I couldn’t even feel good in it.”

Your words heave silence into the room. You don’t know what expression he has on. 

“Man, I sound like horrible husband.” he murmurs. 

You slowly turn back to him. 

“But that was what would have happened if we had married at 20. That’s not us anymore.” you shake your head. 

Your faces so close your noses touched. 

“What are you doing?” he half-asks. 

You press your face to his shoulder. He pulls away a bit to get under the sheets. He wraps an arm around you and uses his other arm to turn off the lights. 

“Can I stay tonight?” he breathes in your smell even though he already knows the answer. You feel so impossibly soft against him, he feels the lull of sleep approaching. 

“Yes,” you barely whisper, “always.”

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

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check out the other parts!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! Or write down some comments about your feelsssss

Series Taglist: @tokyo-love-hotel @samkysnks@herownescape@cherrianne192@shamelessdonutsludgebanana@kageyamakock@shirostrbl@luvang3l @cloudsinthecosmos@httpjungoo @saturnki  @itstheee-ha-chan @gucci-froggy @soy1melk @dora-the-grownup@cherryonigiri

If you’d like to continue being part of my taglist (JJK or Haikyuu), please let me know! I also write oneshots for both fandoms and soon I’ll be doing BSD too!

[gallpall]

canaan bubble redux as a womb for story/character arcs

I’m sure most of this has been posted about before but: ever since my initial read I’ve been obsessed with the gross bodily/gorey stuff in the Canaan redux and I wanted to organize some of my constant+chaotic thoughts!!

TM has said that a lot of the motifs/events in the bubbles are actually “Silent Hill stand-ins” for story elements and she hopes we pick up on stuff, so here’s my Attempt!

At the same time that Harrow’s mind is being made a tomb for Gideon Nav Wake’s subconscious is pulled in to act as a womb for certain plot elements right alongside it. The chronology/time period of HtN mimics a full nine-month gestation. There’s a lot of very literal imagery here (which is below the cut), but I also think we’re meant to see it as metaphorical: we’re able to glean some things about character arcs based on how everything in the bubble goes down.

I’m particularly interested right now in those ‘side’ characters in the bubble who aren’t actually dead, who barely appear in the bubble at all except to get summarily offed, all in very distinctive ways. Judith, Camilla, Palamedes, and Coronabeth.

(cw below cut for some pregnancy/insemination imagery, canonical body horror and gruesome bubble deaths rehashed)

First of all just some quotes showing some of the imagery that I’ve attributed to being Wake manifesting pregnancy trauma stuff (there’s possibly some of Harrow’s conception trauma here, too) seeping through, for the purposes of this line of speculation. 

This isn’t nearly all of it, but some things that stood out to me as possibly comparing Canaan House 2.0 to a functioning reproductive system:

(ch. 21) a “collection of large, rusted pipette needles” -- turkey basters?

(ch. 35) “great, slithering, pulsing tubes” which contain “whitish-pearl bubbled globules”-- this perhaps recalls ovaries/fallopian tubes, with the ‘globules’ being follicles produced by superovulation for insemination, or corpus luteum that supply progesterone to maintain a pregnancy.

(ch. 45) “stretched webs of organ [...] like nets of sticky venous spiderweb” --uterine walls, maybe; it’s all over the windows, totally encasing them in Canaan’s rooms, and arguably even contracting like a uterus would: “every so often they would tremble uncertainly and erupt in floods of bloody, foamy water.”

in the next pgh we get some more of the tools Wake would have used to conceive/upkeep the pregnancy: “pipettes, broken glass-fronted containers filled with dark fluid,” skeletons sitting atop piles of “capsules or pills” perhaps hormones/supplements. (also holding Drearburh tools, the way Wake’s skelly would have been doomed to do)

(ch. 43) “from that hole emerged a clattering pile of plex scope slides, the type you would preserve a cell sample between“ -- Wake would’ve had to carry out the IVF process for implantation, this also seems like apparatus for that

(ch. 47) there’s the “libation” Abigail uses to summon Wake which is... well. It’s a “thin, milky, whitish liquid pooled at the base, sluggish in the cold,” and the summoning involves a bunch of ‘come’ commands, which I think might be Muir making a very elaborate jizz-adjacent “silly buggers with the emissions” joke. 

Just a note, cause I’m hopeless about Pyrrwake: the Seconds’ quarters are almost completely preserved from the leaky body horror (though it’s still cold in there)--as if they represented a sanctuary in Wake’s subconscious. There are also letters in the nonagonal coffin room which spell out an anagram of “PYRRHA” (ch. 47).

So with all that in mind, I’d posit that the fake-ghost deaths are all metaphorical “rebirths” of various characters arcs for ATN. I haven’t delved into what this imagery might mean for Harrow or Gideon specifically because I know there’s a LOT and it’s probably above my theoretical paygrade (I would love for someone to tack on with that though!!) but I can talk about ‘side’ chars on a very big-picture level.

Judith’s simulacrum gets knocked off first (ch. 18); shot through the heart (both atria) while she and Marta’s ghost are trying to complete the winnowing trial. The Sleeper shoots her 7 more times after that, I guess partly just ‘cause she can, but Ortus notes that it seems like there was an element of "Anger” to it. It’s possible Wake wasn’t pleased to have someone messing around with Pyrrha’s lyctoral trial, infuriated that anyone would be attempting to replicate G1d/Pyr’s original downfall. She then ignores Marta entirely and climbs back in the coffin (now with the sword) once Judith’s out of the way.

[Marta’s] scarlet necktie looked redder too—by the time they’d gotten hold of Judith Deuteros the blood had dried hers nearly black.

Cohort red-and-whites being stained black with blood, like a certain high-collared BOE uniform... could be another little clue to Judith’s "heart” for the Emperor (and for Marta, and pretty much everything else she knew) being lost and her realigning--though not willingly, at least at first--with the other side.

Cam and Pal’s simulacrums are plainly executed (ch. 21), they have their “faces obliterated” each by a single gunshot, and it’s as if they just stood there and let it happen. In the bubble, “Harrow had never seen Sextus or Hect except from afar.” These simulacrums totally avoid having their features revealed to Harrow. I’m willing to bet their faces being obscured and then exploded is one of the clues we get to their eyes being swapped around the next time we see them in the epilogue and in ATN.

Regarding the twins: They are essentially non-extant in the bubble. Ianthe never appears because she’s still kicking and, in her own words, “doesn’t live alternate histories” (GtN ch. 15).

Coronabeth’s simulacrum scene (ch. 37) is SO vivid and cryptic. It fascinates me because it definitely is, in part, trying to tell us something poignant about the initiation of Corona’s “worse twin” arc in ATN.

[Corona] was turned away from Harrow, and her riot of hair—half-caught in a fillet, half-escaping—was soaking wet, a dark and crinkling amber in the rain. She was not fighting or arguing. She was still as a statue, and ready and waiting as a dog.

Sounds like the fake ghost preparing for that major shift in allegiance. Silas is the one to ‘dismiss’ her, with his “may the blood of your blood suffer,” which perhaps is a really Templar-y way of saying ‘now go wreck ianthe’s SHIT.’ When Harrow accuses him of sending Corona to her death, Silas asks “Death?”--as if he sees that what’s really just happened, at least metaphorically, is (re)Birth.

[Harrow] thought she saw, absurdly, a sudden gush of watery blood, as though the fog itself had been knifed; but it was gone almost as soon as she had seen it.

Sounds a bit like amniotic fluid/water breaking? Coronabeth doesn’t ever seem to hit the ocean (bodies of water=necromancy and that’s not her deal), she instead just kinda poofs, and Silas says she would have ended up “on her feet.” Coronabeth is ditching her family ties and is out for blood, and I think her charisma, willpower, and sheer desire for revenge will move her a long way in the ranks of Eden--probably even to the point of echoing Commander Wake’s ambitions and actions. I could delve into that damn portrait mirroring Ianthe’s obsession w/ Cyrus’ paintings on the Mithraeum... but that is a whole other post!

So all of these are fairly baseline observations and I think there’s a LOT more to be expounded on, if y’all wanna reply/reblog/DM with additions I would freaking love that, every time I open a page of this book I find something I missed before and it’s such a delight. Thanks for reading if you got this far!!

[juliettalfacharlie]

Day 5, alt: "I'm sorry."

CW illness, vomiting, and injury. Shameless plug for the house I designed.

Kya awoke to the sound of violent retching, and she immediately threw off the covers and hurried down the hall. Lin had begun a new medication for chronic pain. A lifetime spent on the police force meant her body had been bruised and battered more times than Lin could begin recalling, and her spinal discs had worn out far more rapidly than others her age. She experienced pain and stiffness, which otherwise would have had a chance of being manageable, but she also had weakened muscle control and infrequent numbness in her legs. She'd been forced to retire years before she'd ever planned, and it had been extremely difficult for her to cope with.

Walking had become a challenge on the worst days, and even when she retained feeling in her lower body, she felt fiery pain in her back whenever she moved. The spine wasn't an area with abundant bloodflow, and healing couldn't repair collagen; Kya was absolutely miserable watching her struggle, unable to assist in any physical way.

Lin was nauseous in the late afternoon, a few hours after taking the pills. She'd insisted on sleeping in the guest room so she wouldn't wake Kya if she felt ill. Kya had firmly opposed, but Lin wouldn't be swayed. In the end, Kya gave in, hoping it was just because Lin believed she'd weather the illness better alone.

Now, standing atop the wrong carpet, looking into the wrong bathroom, Kya was filled with extreme regret over not fighting her more. Lin was leaning heavily on the sink, forearms supporting most of her weight. Her legs trembled, as she was clearly experiencing partial paralysis, and her chest shook with heaving breaths. The room was almost pitch black, like she hadn't had the time to turn on the light before she heaved into the basin.

"Lin?" Kya called, voice soft. She couldn't be sure if Lin was aware of her presence, incapacitated as she was.

Her girlfriend gagged though nothing came up. She grunted, trying to clear her throat. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" she asked, uncharacteristically quiet. Her throat was horribly sore. "I should have gone to the treehouse."

Kya had moved to Lin's side, and she froze, horrified. "Losing an hour of sleep is nothing compared to you struggling without any support." she chided, wiping sweat from Lin's cool forehead.

"I shouldn't need support, it's only emesis." the younger woman countered, hands clenched into fists. Kya hardened, easily seeing through Lin's spiked boldness.

"If you're sick, I want to be there. Please don't try and hide it from me. I shouldn't have let you sleep alone." Kya murmured, carefully rubbing a hand over Lin's shoulders.

The metalbender shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. Her brows were pinched, and Kya couldn't tell if it was due to physical discomfort or a conflict of emotions. Lin had never wholly embraced being taken care of, and it had worsened immensely as her body began to break down.

Lin's muscles tensed, once again heaving into the sink. Her stomach had emptied itself of her lunch, and instead she coughed up a surge of bile.

The sting in her throat made her gag, gut twisting painfully. She swiped at the faucet handles, turning the tap on full blast.

Kya bent water around the basin, cleaning the sides, before she brought a globe of fresh water to Lin's face. Her wife opened her mouth and rinsed out the taste, then Kya also sent that down the drain.

Lin instinctively wiped her mouth though it was dry, before rubbing away the tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes. Kya shut off the water, keeping a small amount on her palm, and she raised her hand to Lin's neck.

The younger woman tilted her chin up just so, allowing Kya access to heal the irritation along her throat. It was a process that only took a few moments, and soon enough Lin was clean and well once again.

Lin struggled off of her forearms, pressing her palms into the counter as she slowly straightened her back. She exhaled in pain, eyes once again falling shut.

"Will you come back to bed with me?" Kya asked, and Lin nodded once, holding one arm out.

Wordlessly, Kya slipped under it, supporting some of Lin's weight as she stood fully.

The first steps Lin took were terribly shaky, knees and ankles not bending correctly, but Kya was used to the imbalance. She tightened her arm around Lin's ribs, helping her break through the stiffness. By the time they were in the hallway, Lin had more control over herself, and she stopped hanging off of Kya's neck.

The pace was slow, neither wanting to risk a misstep, but with tired minds the time seemed to pass by quickly anyways.

Kya brought Lin to the edge of their bed, carefully letting her sit. The earthbender's face was still tight with pain.

"Uh, would you mind getting the warming balm?" Lin whispered, and Kya quickly replied in the positive.

A mix of camphor and menthol seemed to the the only relief for Lin's back pain, as she didn't typically want to try ingestible pain reliever. This night was the first time she'd caved, though it clearly hadn't helped; Kya would certainly have a word with Lin's physician come morning.

Jars of the salve were kept across the house, and Kya grabbed the one kept inside the nightstand. It was most frequently replaced, as any niggling pain made it difficult for Lin to sleep.

Lin reclined and turned onto her side, back facing Kya. The waterbender unscrewed the lid, taking a healthy dollop onto her finger before she set the container on the bedside table. She slid her clean hand under Lin's t-shirt, pushing it up her back.

Neither woman spoke as Kya rubbed the salve into Lin's muscles, trying to ease some of the tension within. It was relieving that Lin had asked for help in the first place. When she was tired she was still prone to shutting Kya out, as she'd done at first, but a lot of progress had been made regarding clear communication. Lin's progressive decline had caused a hiccup in their seamless coexistence, though it never affected their relationship beyond a few hours of brooding here and there.

As the balm began to take effect, Lin's back finally relaxed. Kya felt the tension slowly ebb until she'd all but melted into the mattress, clearly exhausted.

Kya removed her hands, pulling Lin's top down to cover the balm. One hand lingered atop Lin's hip as she leaned in, placing a kiss on the back of Lin's neck.

"Thank you." Lin spoke, gravely and weak. When she cleared her throat Kya could imagine the pinched annoyance on her face.

"You're welcome. Of course, Lin," Kya responded, "All I want is for you to feel like you can rely on me for help." she said.

Lin slowly turned onto her back, taking Kya's hand in hers. "It isn't that I don't trust you. I hope you don't think that," she sighed, considering her words. She’d been silently working to articulate her feelings, not wanting Kya to ever doubt her role in Lin’s life.

"It's- I'm telling you, it's all me. I've always been against letting people see my... imperfections, or- weaknesses. Weaknesses. You know my retirement was hard, and spirits, the press. But what felt even worse was just, how.... you were so understanding, always. I'd have a bad day and you would simply work around it, like it was no big deal. You stayed with me during Vesak instead of spending it on the island, and I was terrible to you that day. I felt so much loathing for myself, and I still do. I'm so grateful to have you, but I- it's," she paused, a noise of frustration in her throat. It was hard enough to procure the words to what she was feeling, but she was also extremely mindful not to say something that could be taken harmfully. She went over her thoughts to weed out phrases that sounded ungrateful, or implied she didn’t trust Kya, as it was the opposite of what she wanted to communicate.

Despite the silence, Kya didn't speak; Lin was telling her, it wasn't a conversation. The metalbender needed to voice her thoughts without comment. Any words of affirmation refuting her statements only made her retreat. Kya was able to show Lin, later on, how she herself saw things differently.

"I never saw myself having this future. Not only the retirement part, however awful it's been, but our relationship. When we were younger it was because of our ages, but even when you came out I didn't think you'd ever look my way. While I wasn't romantically attracted to you, I always pictured you finding that perfect partner; brilliant, beautiful, selfless, adventurous, maybe even someone who shared your terrible sense of humour. Whoever it was, she’d have all of your wonderful qualities as well. I think- I’ve been putting far too much pressure on myself to live up to that, I suppose,” Lin was partially speaking aloud for herself at that point, voicing niggling thoughts and realizing their truth. “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult.” she mumbled, though it was the wrong thing to say.

Kya tsk’d, “You’re not allowed to apologize for being upset or feeling unwell.” she reminded firmly, and Lin squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry I tried to hide from you, then. You don’t deserve that.” Lin corrected.

“I’m glad you’re speaking to me now. I know everyone copes in their own ways, and I understand your silence, but if you need help it’s pertinent I know,” the waterbender said, scooting closer to Lin’s side, “You’re aware of it, and I know you’re trying. I’m not upset.” she emphasized, and Lin turned her head into Kya’s chest.

“I love you.” she said, bringing their joined hands up to shoulder-level. Come morning she’d hopefully be able to explain more, but she’d exhausted both her mental and physical reserves. Sensing it, Kya’s other arm went around Lin’s stomach. She was halfway-sideways and halfway on her stomach, laying atop her girlfriend, and Lin enjoyed her warm weight.

“I know.” Kya replied, tucking her chin down on the crown of Lin’s head. “I love you too.” she murmured, finally letting her eyes fall shut.

[since0202]

Chapter 28: Getaway

“Stay safe, okay? No cliff diving or swimming with sharks or trudging through alligator infested swamps,” Edward warned as he leaned down to press another kiss to Bella’s forehead. The terminal at Sea-Tac was bustling around them, not paying much attention to the odd trio. 

“I will,” Bella said, “Stay safe I mean.” Edward gave her a gentle smile and looked to Grace.

“Got everything you need?” he asked. 

“I think so,” Grace held up an ancient tome of Shakespeare’s collected works. 

“Good, I’ll see you two in four days,” he let a dramatic sigh and Bella gave a laugh wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. Grace rolled her eyes and turned toward the gate waving a fruitless goodbye to the engrossed couple. 

As they boarded the plane, Grace checked her phone before turning it off. Jake, as usual, had been MIA for the few days after her birthday when she turned him down not so subtly. She could tell from her rounds with Embry that he wasn’t taking it well but trying his best not to let it show. To her surprise, she had a new text. She tried to contain her excitement as she opened it. 

SMS Text—8:32 a.m.: Paul

Have a safe flight. 

“Whaaaat the fuck,” Grace groaned looking at her phone. 

“What is it?” Bella said behind her. Grace snapped her phone shut and powered it down. 

“Nothing.” Why was Paul texting her of all people! Of all people!?

Florida gave Grace an excuse to bust out her real summer wardrobe, one that she usually flaunted during the humid Oklahoma summers—crop tops and stringy tank tops and bralettes that she tried to tell her mom were bikini tops. Bella was a little overwhelmed by this suddenly exuberant, bare skinned version of Grace. 

“Prude,” Grace teased her as she removed her spirit stone and laced a thin gold chain around her neck like a choker. It glittered against Grace’s perfectly sunkissed skin. The Florida sun was kind to Grace. Bella...not so much. Renee had slapped a giant wide brimmed sun hat on her on their first day there on the beach slathering her in sunscreen while Grace and her mother laid out in the sun. 

“So, tell me about Edward,” Renee probed as they settled on the back porch of her bungalow that faced the silver sanded beach. The girls were each given a glass of white wine as a celebration for their graduation. Grace was already sneaking them extra glasses when she went back to the kitchen for a napkin, an ice cube, some lotion. 

Bella’s explanation came in around the end of her second glass. “He’s…..” she looked at each woman for a moment and then with an exasperated huff she said, “He’s perfect. Really. I have no idea how this happened...to me.” Both Renee and Cherie let out little sighs of appreciation. 

“Tell us more!” Cherie prompted. “What’s he like? What drew you to him? How did you two first meet?” 

Grace smiled behind her third glass of wine and could only imagine the scene playing Bella’s head. What had drawn her to him? Mmm, the fact that he was a dangerously handsome and alluring vampire that had a thing for her blood? How did they meet? Oh, he saved her from getting smashed by a van and she just knew he was the one. 

Bella looked to Grace for help, her mouth hanging open, not sure how to explain. 

“They met in biology,” Grace replied easily, completely toasted, “Super romantic.”

“Biology is a very romantic subject. Huddled around a lab table. Dissecting frogs,” Renee teased. 

“Mom,” Bella groaned. 

“What?! He seems very nice from the very little that you tell me,” Renee said, giving her a smack on the arm. 

“Tell me about it.” Cherie said, taking a sip of her wine. 

“What does that mean?” Grace tested. 

“Nothing, only that apparently you had a boyfriend out in La Push for like two months and I had no idea until you two had broken up. What was his name,” Cherie snapped her fingers together multiple times trying to recall his name, “Uh...uh.”

“Paul, mom,” Grace said, annoyed and downing the rest of her glass. She got up to get another, not even offering an excuse this time. 

“Paul! Paul Lahote!” Cherie said triumphantly, “I knew the Lahote family when I was there. Nice people. Well, except for the dad. Jeremy? Jerry? He had a bit of an anger problem.” 

Grace rolled her eyes in the kitchen and filled her glass close to the rim. 

“My relationship with Paul is not...was not like Bella and Edward’s. They are madly in love with one another. We were just hanging out,” Grace said, shooting Bella an uncomfortable look. Bella watched her face and knew that that wasn’t true. 

“Well you still could have told me,” Cherie said a little disheartened. 

“Sorry, will do next time.” Grace said dismissively. 

“What about Billy’s son? Jacob?” Cherie offered. 

“Mom, no.” Grace groaned. 

“What!? Charlie said you two were hanging out and I didn’t know if it was the same kind of hanging out that you do with Paul or?” She waggled her eyebrows at her daughter. Grace couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Mom stop!” Grace said a smile cracking across her face, “It’s not like that. And anyway, we’re talking about Edward and Bella.” She motioned to Bella. 

“There’s not really much else to tell, we’re together, we’re happy, I hope that continues….forever,” Bella breathed. 

Renee looked at her daughter carefully and patted her thigh. The rest of the evening was spent talking about colleges, plans for the future, Cherie’s upcoming interview, and Renee’s adjustment to Florida life. 

At a little past 1 a.m., Bella and Grace turned into bed and told their mom’s to leave the dishes for the morning. The two women had their arms around each other and were singing an old Fleetwood Mac song at one another and Grace gave a delighted snort. 

“Cute.” She poured the half glass of wine left in the bottle into her glass and followed Bella to bed. Grace was definitely drunk. She had probably coasted through an entire bottle of wine by herself tonight without her mother knowing. Something about that gave her a freeing sensation. Bella went to the bathroom to shower and left Grace alone with her thoughts. 

The words that her mother had mentioned at dinner swirled around in her head.

What was his name? Paul! That’s right! Paul Lahote. 

Grace tried to shake her head of her last memory of her and Paul alone. He had undressed her and though he tried his best not to look, she could feel his burning gaze all over her. Now, in her drunken state it annoyed her. 

What about Billy’s son? Jacob?

Grace let out an audible groan. Of course her mother would know about Jake. And what was worse, she knew her mother could see that she had blushed profusely at his name. A dead giveaway. 

Why was this all so complicated? Did her ancestors have a death wish for her? Was this supposed to bring her some sort of triumph over adversity thing? Or was she truly just meant to be miserable forever? And why did she feel like she was doing this alone? 

Her eyes lazily landed on her phone plugged in on the nightstand. 

“Fuck this,” Grace said, grabbing her phone and dropping it on the floor accidentally before scooping it up, downing the rest of her glass and finding the right contact in her phone. 

“Hello?” It was late here but it was only after 10 p.m. back in Forks. Of course he’d be awake. 

“You really piss me off, you know that?” Grace said pointing to the air in front of her. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You have the absolute audacity to look at me the way that you do on a daily basis and think I won’t notice? You stare. STARE at me and I can see it you know? Some people would say that’s pretty creepy, that’s pretty stalker-ery of you, yah know?” 

“Grace, are you drunk?” 

“Listen to me! I know how this is supposed to go. Guy meets girl, girl falls for guy and then a bunch of stupid shit happens and now guy’s like ‘Hey, I’m gonna stare at you from afar and not fucking talk to you won’t that drive you crazy?’ And it does! It does! You did it. Congrats. You did it. It’s driving me crazy.” 

“Grace, calm down for a sec—” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down! Do I need to hold a sign? Helloooo, Do you need me to spell it out for you?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking—” 

“Yeah right, you know. You know. You’ve known this whole time. You’ve talked to Ti’Hal, you know.” 

“Grace, let’s just talk about this when you get home.” 

“No! I want to talk about it right now. I want to tell you what I’ve been thinking these past three weeks. The thing I couldn’t say and up until now, I didn’t know if I should, but I’m gonna and you’re gonna hear it buddy. You hear me?!” 

“Grace what are you doing?” Bella came out of the bathroom and was wrapped in a robe, her hair up in a towel, “Who’s on the phone?” 

“Hold on, Bella’s here.” Grace turned drunkenly to Bella stumbling a little. “I’m just gonna tell him.” She said confidently, shaking the phone and slurring her speech now.

“Grace, let’s go to bed. Give me the phone,” Bella approached her like she was a rabid animal, knowing she needed to get that phone away from her before she made a mistake. 

“I’m just gonna tell him!” Grace turned to yell into the phone, but Bella was quick, “I’m in love with you! You complete fucking—” the phone was already knocked out of her hands and Bella had slammed it shut. 

“Are you nuts?!” Bella said, laughing a little. 

“Probably,” Grace sighed sitting on her bed and flopping back onto the pillows. 

“I’m holding onto this until morning,” Bella said, putting it in her robe pocket. But Grace was already asleep. Bella popped open her phone to look at the last outgoing call. Unsurprised, Bella gave a short laugh at the name glowing from the small screen: Jacob. 

The next morning, Grace woke up to a splitting headache and an overwhelming thirst. She dragged herself up out of bed and splashed cold water her face before brushing her teeth and changing into a fresh set of clothes for the day. 

As she wandered down into the kitchen, she found Bella washing up last night’s dishes at the sink. 

“Goooood morning, drunk dialer,” Bella said, “Drink that, and take those.” She nodded to a talk glass of water on the counter and a couple of pills. 

“Nice,” Grace said. “What do you mean drunk dialer? Have you seen my phone?” Grace chugging the water and swallowing the pills. Bella produced Grace’s phone from her back pocket and set it on the counter. 

“I’d wait until you rehydrate before checking those texts.” Bella warned. 

“What?” Grace grabbed her phone, weak memories coming back to her from last night. She pulled her phone toward her desperately and pulled it open quickly navigating to her inbox. 

SMS Text—1:23 a.m.: Jacob 

Grace, call me back. I need to talk to you. 

I know you’re drunk but I thought you said...

Just call me back, 

SMS Text—1:43 a.m.: Jacob 

I’m sorry I’ve been staring at you, I like you. 

Sue me. 

Or don’t. Just call me back so we can talk. 

SMS Text—1:47 a.m.: Jacob

You’re unbelievable you know? 

You get drunk 2,000 miles away where I can’t get to you to drop this? 

Not. Cool. 

SMS Text—2:03 a.m.: Jacob 

Text me or call me when you wake up. 

We need to talk about this. 

Grace threw her head back and groaned: “Fuuuuu—morning mom!” Her mother came around from behind her.

“Good morning my only daughter.” She planted a kiss on her cheek. 

“You say only daughter like you have another daughter hidden away in a  basement somewhere.” Grace grumbled.

“Are you two ready to go kayaking in the Everglades? Renee’s quite the thrill seeker.” Cherie ignored her and looked to Bella.

“Yeah, should be fun!” Grace said, perking up. She pocketed her phone and resolved to bury her head so deep in the swamp that an alligator would surely come and tear her to pieces so she’d never have to face Jacob again. 

Floating in the kayak was peaceful. Grace let herself drift down the thread of water choked by duckweed and low hanging spanish moss, the morning sun glittering on the water. Ahead, Renee and Cherie were chuckling about something and Bella was gliding quietly next to her. 

Lost in her reverie, she didn’t realize Bella was next to her until their kayaks bonked together. 

“Ooh, sorry,” Bella apologized, trying to steer herself straight. “Kayaks aren’t meant for the uncoordinated.” Grace laughed and gave the back of her kayak a nudge forward. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah,” Grace said simply letting the sound of the water against her paddle lull her into another reverie. But it was short lived. 

“So, do you want to talk about what happened last night?” Bella said, giving her a knowing look. Grace internally groaned. 

“Not much to say that you didn’t already hear,” Grace said while she weaved her kayak around a particularly dense patch. 

“Mmm I think there’s more to say. You’re in love with Jacob...but you don’t want to be with him because?” Bella prompted. Grace was silent, her eyes on the water, “He’s crazy about you you know. Even when you thought there was something going on between us..which to be fair he did have a crush on me for awhile...but even back then, you’d always come up in our conversations. In everything. He’d always ask about you.” 

Grace had tried to block those early days out. The ones where she was so furiously drawn to Jacob and her stomach would flare angrily when she overhead him and Bella talking. 

“It’s not as easy as just saying I’m in love with you.” Grace finally said. 

“You had no trouble saying it last night when you were wasted,” Bella joked, ducking her head just in time to not get slapped in the face by moss. Grace shook her head. 

“You don’t get it,” Grace said, “I’ve already done the heartbreak thing once. You were there, remember?” Bella gave her a pained look as she continued, “For whatever fucked up reason, my ancestors think it’s pretty funny to have no one imprint on me or me imprint on anyone, but I still get to fall in love with them. Do you know how excruciatingly awful it is knowing you love someone who can and would leave you if someone they were meant to be with came along? That you could never measure up to? Because of some impossibly, supernatural standard?” Grace was desperate now. 

“Yes,” Bella said softly, casting her eyes down. Grace stopped at this. That made sense. 

“Of course,” she said, “Bella, I didn’t mean it like that but, you can see why I’m hesitating to jump into anything with Jake. Not to mention, Paul and I just broke up like 3 seconds ago and I’m still trying to figure all of this,” she gestured to her whole body, “out.” Grace let out an exasperated breath. “It’s exhausting. And the worst part is….” she paused here not sure if she wanted to go there. But why shouldn’t she? Bella drifted in front of her, looking at her calmly, openly. Bella wouldn’t begrudge her her feelings, nor was she in danger of unwillingly sharing them with Jake since her mind was protected from Edwards. 

She could tell her this here, in this calm swamp away from everyone, “The worst part is, I so so so want to be with him. Everything in my body, absolutely every part of me wants him. It’s terrifying thinking you’re staring at your stupid soul mate but knowing that they’ll be snatched away from you any second. I can’t live through that. Not with Jake. If we were happy and he--,” she choked here and took a minute to stop and compose herself, moving forward, her voice hard, “and he left, willingly or unwillingly, I don’t think I could come back from that. So I can’t risk it Bella, I can’t. And it hurts so much every single day to hold that resolve. It feels like it’s going against everything to hold myself back. But I just...can’t.” 

After a few minutes paddling forward together, Bella looked at her sadly and nodded, “Okay.” Grace gave her nod, “I understand.” 

“Good, now let’s talk about something else.” Grace bumped her boat into Bella’s. 

“Well, since we’re sharing secrets…” Bella looked down shyly and Grace’s eyes shot toward her, “Edward asked me to marry him.” 

“WHAT?!” Grace shouted as she rocked her kayak dangerously. Their mother’s who were further down the way looked over their shoulders and called out: “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah! I think she saw a snake!” Bella called back. “Chill!” she said to Grace laughing. In a hushed voice Grace said: 

“Marry?! As in til death do us part, rings and bells?” Bella nodded enthusiastically. “Woah.” 

“Tell me about it.” Bella replied. 

“So what did you say!? Did you say yes?! You’re 18!” 

“I know I’m 18.” Bella replied, a tinge of annoyance not targeted at Grace layered in her voice. “And it’s not the first time he’s asked me. This is like a regular thing with him.” 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?” Grace said splashing her paddles around her dramatically. 

“Grace!” Bella said, darting her eyes toward their mothers again who were laughing and paddling a ways up. 

“This isn’t the first time?! What is he a glutton for matrimony?” Grace pulled a face and Bella laughed. 

“I don’t know, maybe.” 

“SO?! What did you say this time?” Grace begged now. 

“I said….I said yes.” Bella said barely over the sound of splashing water with a shy smile on her face. 

“Oh my GOD! BELLA!” Grace smacked her boat with her paddle. 

“Girls!” Cherie called back to them. 

“Yeah! Coming!” Bella called back as she tried her best to paddle away. Grace was after her in a second yelling “We’re not done talking about this!” 

It was their last night and Grace was cuddled up on an outdoor sofa under a soft blanket with her mom. Grace was thumbing through her Shakespeare collection and her mom was finishing a crossword. 

After a serene silence that Grace recognized as a common occurrence between the two of them, she heard her mom set down her pencil and look over at her. 

“How have you been? Really, I mean.” Grace looked over at her slowly. This was a weird turn. Could her mom sense something was up? Grace squirmed a little and her heartbeat picked up. 

“Fine, really. Forks is great and like I said, the council gifted me that run down house that I’m fixing up so it’s going well.” Grace repeated the same status update she had given her mother on their first day. 

“But...I know it was hard for you to return to all of that...without your dad, I mean,” Cherie spoke quietly now. 

“Mom.” Grace said softly coming closer to give her a hug, “It really has been okay. I’ve found a great family out there and it’s been good being back on the rez.” 

Cherie clasped her hands around Grace’s shoulder and pulled her tight to her. 

“I just worry about you Little Bird,” she whispered and kissed the top of her head. That had to be a coincidence. Grace sucked in a deep breath and looked up at her mother. 

“I’m okay….really,” she said this gently but meant it. Tears were in her mom’s eyes and she nodded. “Get a grip mom,” Grace laughed and Cherie echoed her. 

“I just miss you.” Cherie said. 

“You’re always welcome to come and stay. And I’ll visit more,” Grace promised. Cherie was satisfied with this and pulled her back into a hug, rocking her gently as the waves crashed off the shore. Grace was almost whole. 

[nostalgiaispeace]

2232.

1. What is your favorite shade of blue? dark 2. When’s the last time you bought something just because? lol never 3. What Ozzy lyric describes you best? - 4. When was the last time you went for a walk without a specific destination in mind? idk 5. Do you daydream? always

6. What was your last daydream about? well i’m not telling thei nternet 7. Ever won the lottery? lol no 8. How much did you get for your high school graduation? i don’t remember 9. What was the most important decision you made that screwed up your life the most? idk 10. Do you know what your Chinese horoscope is? hmmm i might 11. What is love really about? nothing i can describe right now while i’m exhausted 12. What’s the most you ever made in a year? lol 13. Do you have an online diary? no 14. What’s the biggest pot you’ve won in poker? I’ve never played poker. 15. What’s your most prized possession? my frog 16. What Metallica lyric most describes your life? - 17. Ever been to Ozzfest? no 18. How many concerts have you been to? a lot 19. Which one was your favorite? lana del rey 20. What shade of purple most describes your feelings right now? none 21. Pick a shade of a color. Now describe it to me and name it. light 22. Sun tea or brewed tea? brewed 23. What’s the most illegal thing you’ve done? drugs 24. Ever get busted by the cops? What for? No. 25. What’s under your bed? my cat 26. Vacuum or dustbuster? Vacuum. 27. How many people are on your buddy list? lol 28. How many pairs of rollerblades do/did you own? none 29. Ever wear out a CD? What was it? yeah. britney spears 30. What’s your favorite card game? solitare 31. Who was the most annoying person you’ve talked to on the phone? idk 32. What’s your favorite fast food meal? chick fil a nuggets and mac and cheese 33. Where is the best restaurant you’ve ever eaten in at? idk 34. Lamb chops or pork chops? Neither. 35. How many roses have you received/given? idk 36. When’s the last time you mowed the lawn? years ago 37. Washed your car? years ago 38. Ever have a tornado in your town? not since i’ve lived here — 40. What state is your wardrobe in? fine 41. What’s the last article of clothing you bought? sweats 42. How many trash cans can you see right now? One. 43. If you HAD to pick ONE song to listen to for the rest of your life, and that would be the only song you ever heard, what would it be? I don’t know. 44. Ever heard of Shinedown? Yeah. 45. They rock, don’t they? sure 46. What size is your bed? queen 47. When’s the last time you had pigs in a blanket? not that long ago actually 48. Have you ever painted the ceilings in your home? no 49. What does your lawn furniture consist of? lawn chairs 50. Ever live off of canned soup and ramen noodles for weeks at a time? no 51. What flavor of jelly are you? strawberry 52. Ever take any of those online personality quizzes? yeah 53. What musical group/artist do you love, but hide from other people? none 54. What’s on the floor in your bedroom? Nothing. 55. What is the first meal you remember eating? idk 56. Ever been to a drive in? no 57. What was the first movie you ever saw? i don’t remember 56. What’s in your keepsake box/scrapbook? so many things 57. Describe your first date. idk 58. Would you recognize most of your classmates 5 years after graduation? sure 59. What percentile of your class were you in? I have no idea. 60. When was the last time it rained while the sun was shining? I don’t recall. 61. What did you score on your SATs? i don’t remember 62. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? it’s been a bit 63. Name your favorite artist/song from before 1990. zeppelin 64. Do you think there should be new genres of music to encompass some of the newer rock performers out now? no 65. What colors is your lava lamp? - 66. What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever hung on the wall? I haven’t hung up anything strange. 67. When’s the last time you did laundry? todayy 68. How many hammers do you own? one 69. Can you name every place you’ve ever had sex? yes 70. How many speakers are in your bedroom? none 71. DVD or VHS? dvd 72. What’s the most important thing you ever lost and never found again? idk 73. What forms of birth control have you used? pill and implant 74. How many webpages have you created, and can you still find them all? no 75. You have .30 in two coins. One of them is not a nickel. What are they? uh 76. What’s your pet peeve when cleaning the house? um all of it 77. Do you use sponges or dishcloths when doing the dishes? sponges 78. How many people are in your family portrait? three 79. How many times have you moved? too many times 80. Handcuffs or rope :D? Neither. 81. What season best describes your temperament? winter 82. What’s the last thing you had to drink? diet coke 83. Ever been so drunk you blacked out? no 84. What’s your favorite song on the top twenty right now? idk. 85. What do your light fixtures look like? uh normal 86. How many jobs have you held for more than a month? 4 87. Ever punched a wall? yes 88. When’s the last time you really lost your temper? It’s been a long time. 89. How do you cope? i cry 90. What’s your antidrug? idk 91. Ever grown any plants before? What were they? Nope. 92. Ever own a director chair? No. 93. When was the last time you camped out? when i was a kid 94. Went swimming? years ago 95. Went fishing? lol 96. Oust or Glade and why? Glade. 97. Ever thought you (or a girlfriend) were pregnant, but it was a false alarm? yes 98. If 97 is yes, were you glad or sad? well i was pregnant so i was happy 99. Do you have a red-eye mouse or one with a ball? none 100. What do your doorstops look like? - 101. What was the last conversation you had with someone before they died? i don’t remember 102. What do your drinking glasses look like? they’re just solid colors 103. How many bottles/containers are in your medicine cabinet? a lot 104. How many funerals have you been to? a lot 105. How many states have you been to? a lot

106. What was the last bug you killed and what did you use? a wasp 107. What does your country need right now? sanity 108. Are you creative? not really 109. How so? – 110. How many computers in your household? Two. 111. Ever help to solve a crime? No. 112. Who is in the picture frame on your bedside table? - 113. How many CDs does your player hold? - 114. What is one thing you’d like to do before you die? go to england 115. Do the good die young or do they die before they have a chance to be bad? um both suck 116. What’s your favorite totally cliche’ saying? everything happens for a reason 117. Ever go out of your way to exact revenge on someone? no 118. Was it worth it? - 119. Ever get pulled over by the cops and get away without a ticket? no 120. What’s the weather like right now? HOT 121. What was your first legal alcoholic drink? vodka 122. Do you have a door/doorknob to your room? Yes. 123. Name one thing you regret? lol so many 124. Ever get published by one of those poetry groups? no 125. What’s the furthest distance you’ve moved? states away 126. How many friends from high school/college do you still talk to? a few

127. Where is your home/heart right now? here 128. What’s the most expensive things your parents ever bought you? idk 129. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought? my car 130. How many hangers are in your closet? a lot 131. If you died right now, would you feel cheated or happy? happy 132. How many times did you intentionally start to commit suicide? a few 133. Ever spent the night in the “loony bin?” yes 134. What’s wrong with society? lol so much 135. How many crazy ice cream trucks are in your area? none really 136. What is your favorite cover song? i have a lot 137. Does the weather ever seem to reflect your mood eerily? no 138. Are you more psychic than most people? lol no 139. What’s your inspiration? my daughter 140. What’s the longest relationship you’ve been in? the one i’m in now for 8 years 141. Did you ever drop out of school? college 142. Ever raise a child that wasn’t your own for more than 3 months? No. 143. What is your favorite piece of jewelry? wedding band 144. Ever help someone cheat on someone else? ew no 145. Are you a cheater too? No. 146. What was the last dessert type food you’ve eaten? candy 147. Fill in the blank: I’m a ________aholic. Coffeeholic. 148. When’s the last time you went to a hairdresser/salon? february 149. Strangest medical procedure ever performed on you? nothing strange 150. Do you own any appliances? yes 151. Do you have an “egg crate” on your bed? no 153. Last time you went to the laundromat? idk 154. How many hinges are on your front door? I’m not sure. 155. Can I be done yet? yes

[silverypurple-rosedlions]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 - 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 (𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐦𝐢𝐧)

Lee Seokmin has authorized you access to Chapter Two of Chapter Unlock, Lee Seokmin.

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🥀//TW: This will contain various mentions of drugs, graphic blood and gore, and mild language. If you are uncomfortable with what is listed, do NOT read as this warning is for your safety. Only read at your own risk and be prepared for what will be mentioned within this chapter. This does not promote anything mentioned in this, and keep in mind that this is for entertainment purposes, and ONLY relates to the backstories made within THIS world The Purple Rose is in.//🥀

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There was this time I remember as clear as day, almost as if I could put myself back in that moment where I am, and relive it. It was the beginning of a new path for me, painting the pathway of a new life I could control, for better or for worse. But it haunted me for years, and I could never touch things like it for so long, no matter if it were part of the job. I couldn't even place a finger on anything related to it. It was drugs. I could never touch drugs, but it's funny how it was the very thing that pushed me over the breaking point of my fragile mind. It was Xanax, mostly known as 'Xanny," for secretive reasons being that it was in the possessions of High Schoolers, barely the legal age to consume any drug. But I didn't do it willingly. I wasn't intoxicated by my choice, but by force.

It isn't a surprise that people, especially teenagers growing into adulthood, were overshadowed, stuck in the clutches of depression and anxiety. Unfortunately, I was among the numerous teens who were lost, damaging their minds, and sometimes, bodies. But some tended to find other ways to avoid the pain, to numb their thoughts of what troubled them and kept them awake every night.

Sometimes, they numbed it by doing absolutely nothing, just sitting there in silence, staring at nothing but something no one could see but them, and letting themselves deteriorate gradually. But what was well-known was people taking things to numb themselves temporarily. Some took sleeping pills, helping them to sleep every night. Others would fill their lungs with chemicals, smoking outside of the school, or hidden within the alleyways. Of course, there were pills and cocaine. The typical substances that everyone knows. Then, there was Xanax.

I didn't know what that was at the time, other than it was drugs, and whenever you met someone broken, it was likely they had it stuffed within their pockets or bag, waiting for the night to come and consume them. It wasn't a common drug in our area, mostly a rare chance someone could get their clammy hands on the drugs and become stoned. But one person always found ways to get an entire bank of it, sharing it among friends and other students, but it came at a high price.

How did I get into this mess? I honestly don't recall. It's foggy when I attempt to remember what I had said and what I had done to attend a party crowded with teenagers chugging beer after beer, snorting the chilling white substance in their nose, throwing their head back as they let that so-called "bliss," take over them. Others chose to numb themselves with another, embracing lust and letting it be something to distract themselves and "relieve" themselves.

I didn't support any of it, nor did I want to become involved. I was a clean person, and I couldn't stand being next to someone who did it, too anxious about what they'd tell me of their countless nights of wasting themselves, slowly letting the substances eat them without a care in a world.

But it happened in mid-February after I turned 17, and my closest friend disappeared without a trace. The last time I had spoken to him was in December, before the accident, before receiving mental care in an Asylum.

There was a party after a few days I turned 17, and before it I knew, I was there. I was sitting there in the room, music booming and causing the house to quiver and shake, and numerous teens were laughing and stumbling around, drunk and stoned. Then there was me, sitting in my bubble with a canned coke in my hand, feeling small and alone. I was alone in a house full of teens drugged, and in a place of someone, I didn't know who, with a can clutched tightly, my nose wrinkled at the stench within the house that no one seemed to care for.

I looked around the room, brows furrowed as I watched the teenagers around me, some older than me, laugh and accept anything handed to them. My head was throbbing at this point, the music becoming unbearable as it spat vulgar words, echoing throughout the house.

'It's too cramped,' I thought, trying to inhale through my nose, only to end up coughing as the smoke entered through my nostrils, causing them to flare. My eyes stung as I forced myself off the couch, bumping into a male shorter than me. He turned around, his eyes dilated and bloodshot. In shock, I yelped, stumbling back onto the couch again.

'Ugh! Why did I come here with that idiot,' I thought pitifully, bringing my knees to my chest, still holding the canned drink in my hand.

That's when a girl slid into my view, smiling widely at me as she giggled, holding two small glasses of beer, sloshing. "Hey, Lee!"

"Thank goodness, Mimi Noona!" I exclaimed with irritation, unfolding, and looking at the said girl, shaking my head. But my eyes narrowed on the glasses, groaning as I snatched one, flipping it and purposely spilling it onto the carpet that was already stained.

"Dude! What the heck?!" Mimi growled, looking distraught as the carpet absorbed it. But I could care less, frowning as I grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her gently to sit beside me.

"Noona, can you not kill yourself with this stuff?"

"Aww, come on, Lee. I'm not killing myself with this stuff," Mimi said with exasperation, downing the only last shot she had available in her hand. "Why not try it? Hasn't it been rough lately for you? I remember you complaining that you haven't been able to have time for yourself,"

"Yeah," I reply, rolling my eyes. "But as much as it's nice to get out, I don't want to spend it here, Noona. I don't want to take this crap. I want to go home now, and you're my only way home! You drove me from Seoul, all the way here in Gwangju! And to the farthest PART of Gwangju, Mimi!"

"Seokmin, Seokmin, Seokmin," Mimi chanted, shaking her head as she rested her hand on my shoulder, looking at me with a queer expression. "Lighten up! You're safe with me. I promise I won't get too stoned and be able to drive us home,"

"Uh, no!" I snap, smacking her hand off my shoulder. "I don't trust you with driving when intoxicated, Mimi! Seriously," I sighed heavily, tilting my head slightly. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing has, Seokmin," Mimi responded, but I wasn't convinced as she took a cigarette from the person beside her and took a puff, blowing it towards me. I scoffed, swatting it away and coughing as she laughed. "I know this isn't around your alley, Lee. But you have to experience it at some point."

"I'm seventeen!"

"Aaand?"

"You're unbelievable!" I said, standing up and pushing through with all my might to exit the living space, but Mimi was trailing behind, gripping the back of my shirt to keep up.

"Okay, okay, Seokmin." I turned to her, crossing my arms. "But you have to do at least ONE thing for me, and then we'll go. Just like you want to, and I won't take anything else,"

"If it's taking some crappy drugs or drink, then no," I answered in disgust, beginning to turn around, but she took me by the arms, pulling me to face her again.

"Listen! You only live once, Seokmin. And I swear this drug isn't as crazy as the ones like cocaine," Mimi said, attempting to guide me towards the back table within the kitchen, where a group of boys was, but I stood firm, becoming unmoveable.

"Doesn't matter! I don't want to become like some messed up kid," I frowned, but something, no, someone pushed me from behind, guiding me to the boys with Mimi smiling. "Hey! Get your hands off of me!"

"Relax, Seokmin," A male said calmly, smiling at me as the group of boys circled the three of us. My heart was beginning to race, my hands becoming sweaty as Mimi went to one of them and received two tablets of pills. "Everything is going to be alright. It'll just make you feel more energetic is all,"

'Lying,' I thought, my eyes darting as I struggled to leave the circle, but my attempts were ineffective, and I was shoved to the center, shrinking. 'They're lying to me. Was this planned? Was Mimi trying to drug me?'

"Let me out, you guys!" I shouted as Mimi approached me, ribbing me softly.

"Stop being such a scaredy-cat, Lee," Mimi giggled as if this was some funny joke they were playing. But it wasn't. Why were drugs and alcohol fun and games to them? Did they believe this would solve their pain and numb it forever? I didn't want this. I didn't agree to come here in the first place, or did I? Why was I here again? What was I doing?

"Help. Let me out. LET ME OUT."

"It's just two little tablets. I doubt they'll have any effect on you, Lee," Mimi grinned, revealing the pills within her palms. "Xanax." It was a small, white bar with the name labeled on it, causing my stomach to churn. Before I could smack them away, Mimi closed her hand, jerking it back and shaking her head. "Yah! Don't waste these, Lee!"

"Just think of them like pain killers, dude," One of the boys said, taking the pills and dropping them into a cup of what was likely beer. But I shut my mouth closed, fists clenched as I shook my head in refusal.

"I don't want it. I don't want it!"

"Seokmin, don't be stubborn," Mimi said, taking the cup from the male and attempting to have me drink it, but I kept turning my head in denial, backing away from her.

And if I could, I would shout. I would scream for help, but who was going to help me? Everyone was intoxicated, too stoned that they were unable to form a sensible conscience other than let themselves loose. And there was no adult. I didn't see any adult. So it was just me against more than six boys and a girl, who I wasn't sure I could call a friend anymore. No. I shouldn't EVER call her a friend after this.

"Pussy, much?" One of the boys laughed, stepping forward and grabbing me by the arm. Frightened, I jerked my arm out from his grasp, only to be held by the boys, restricting me from any attempt to escape. The only thing I could do was keep my mouth shut, keeping my head down. "Is your friend always like this?"

Mimi sighed, grabbing my chin and lifting my head. "Sadly, yeah. But he's cool. Just help me,"'

"GET OFF! GET OFF!"

"I know how to help," One of the boys said, stealing the cup from Mimi's hands, and suddenly, his fist went forward, slamming against my stomach. My eyes widened in response, my mouth opening as a scream of pain escaped but as muffled, the boy shoving the drink into my mouth and forcing it down, some of the boys laughing while Mimi let out a noise of distress.

"You didn't have to hurt him!"

Tears ran down my cheeks as the liquid slithered down my throat, the pills scratching it. And once it was down, the boys released me, watching as I doubled over onto the floor, holding my stomach, sputtering.

"Crybaby, much?" Someone snickered, the rest laughing. But it slowly became distant and distorted, muffling as my vision blurred.

My stomach churned, my throat burned, and my eyes stung. I felt itchy as if I should tear at my skin, almost as if doing so would make it stop. But that wasn't the worst of it. I began to feel nauseous as the floor, the room, and the people becoming distorted around me, my head throbbing, my heart pounding irregularly, almost as if it could burst from my chest.

"Make it stop. Make it stop."

That's when I felt a hand rest on my back, but I didn't want them to touch me. Whoever the person was, their touch burned. It felt as if they were able to scorch my body through the fabric of my shirt. It hurt and made me feel worse.

"Don't touch me... Get your hands off of me!"

I couldn't even decipher what I was saying, but I knew my mouth was moving. I knew I was saying something, but I couldn't hear myself. I couldn't hear anything illegible but muffled voices and...screaming? Is someone screaming?

"You'll pay! You'll pay!"

I couldn't see anything as darkness filled my vision, but I knew I was moving. I knew my arms were moving and something, no, someone was retaliating? I could feel them grab at me, their nails digging into my arm, my sides, and perhaps my legs. But they were under me, I think? What was I sitting on them? Am I holding them against something? Why are my hands wet? They're wet. What is it? What is it on my hands?!

"STOP IT! STOP IT!"

I was gasping, the sound suddenly booming in my ears as screams filled the house, sounds of cries rushing through my ears, shaking my brain violently. I blinked and blinked again, my eyes adjusting as the room became clear as day, the lights off, but red. I saw red. But when I looked down, what I saw was horrendous, causing my body to tremble as a heart wrenched cry emitted from me.

There on the floor, looking at me, with wide eyes, was the boy who had forced me to drink and swallow the pills. His eyes were empty, still wide in fear as blood trickled from their nose and mouth. But it wasn't that that terrified me. No. It was his torso. His torso was the worst thing my eyes ever processed, imprinting it within my brain.

His torso had numerous long, deep cuts. Blood oozing out from them as his inner organs were visible, and some brutally ripped and pulled out, discarded to the side, slightly pulsating. A knife was beside them, covered in his fluids, and deep within the boy's torso, my hands were buried inside, clutching something warm and squishy, something that used to be alive.

The blood was warm, smelling like copper as I reeled backward, pulling my hands and pushing away, slamming my back against the bottom cupboards. With trembling hands, I raised them, my vision becoming clear and then blurred over and over again as the red substance, the boy's blood staining my hands.

I wanted to vomit, my heart throbbing as I gagged, fear building as I finally noticed the people fleeing in horror. They were petrified. They were scared of me. It was me. Me. Me. Me. Me.

"MONSTER!" A girl shrieked, running with tears in her eyes as people dropped their drinks and drugs, dashing to the front doors.

"I-I didn't mean it..." I sobbed, struggling to stand up, but my legs were too weak, wobbling, and causing me to fall onto my knees in despair and disbelief. I wanted this to be a nightmare. Let it be a nightmare, please.

"CALL THE POLICE!"

"HELP! HELP!"

"I didn't kill him... I didn't kill him," I repeated, hands clenched.

"FUCKING PSYCHO!"

"A BEAST!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I coughed. I felt lethargic, too tired to move, and too weak. I felt sick, my stomach twisting and contorting as the pounding of feet was endless until it slowly faded, disappearing. They fled in fear, leaving me with the dead body of a boy. He's dead, and I was the one who killed him. And killed him for what? For what?!

"Your fault. This is all your fault. You monster. Monster. Monster!"

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," The two words I relied on the most. But they were useless. How could saying just one phrase, the phrase "I'm sorry," fix a crime? How can it fix murder?

"Run."

"RUN!"

I don't know how or when, but I got up. I know I did because there was no one else to pull me up, no else to pull me out of my shocked state as my adrenaline kicked in, and I rushed towards the back. But I was disoriented. I couldn't tell what was left or what was right. I couldn't even run or walk in a straight line without slamming into the wall, using it to guide to the back door as I swung it open.

No one was there as I slipped, crashing onto the green grass, the cold greeting me with it's freezing arms.

"Get up and run!"

I didn't know what pushed me to continue. I don't know how I escaped that night, but I never went home. I hid in the alleyways, tucked within the darkness as my body quivered, crashing onto the concrete and unable to get up again. I laid there for hours, slipping in and out of consciousness as the boy's dead eyes and gruesome body were the only things I could see. I could only see the crime I had committed, and no one was there to assist me. I was alone. I was alone, and it was all my fault.

“He deserved it. He needed to die,”

"Seokmin?" A voice said, causing me to push up, eyes wide as I turned to look towards the person with a corrupted mind. I was vulnerable. I was . . .

"J-Jeonghan?" I asked, squinting as the male figure was distorted, making it difficult for me to decipher. But it was his voice that led me to assume that it was him. Or was I hallucinating? Was it the Xanax, the alcohol, or both?

"Look at you... Got into another mess, huh?" The male said, approaching me slowly and coming down to my level. But I was scared, flinching, and moving back.

"S-Stay away from me! A-Are you someone I know?" I said, lips quivering.

"Of course you know me, Seok. Has more than a month and few weeks made you forget what I sound and look like?" They replied, shaking their head, "It's Jeonghannie hyung, Seok. The same guy you met in Middle School during Physical Fitness and played volleyball with,"

Hesitantly, I moved forward, coming closer as my vision cleared. But it was true. Yoon Jeonghan, the very person who helped me, was sitting there in front of me, his head tilted as his long, silky platinum blonde hair gently moved along with the breeze. His skin was still pale, but not a ghostly pale, and an odd smile was on his face, his eyes soft but narrowed. But I didn't focus on it, only throwing myself on him, hugging him tightly as I sobbed uncontrollably. The pain and fear buried in my heart poured out as he held me, gently petting my head.

"I-I d-didn't mean it. I-I didn't me-mean to kill him... P-Please believe me. P-Please d-don't leave me. D-Don't tu-turn me in,"

"It's okay, Seok. I understand," Jeonghan said with a soothing voice, allowing me to bury my face into his shoulder. "You don't need to worry because I won't turn you in. I'll make sure they won't touch you. You're safe now,"

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry,"

"Shhh, I know you're sorry... But you did it to defend yourself, Seok. And I'm proud you did. I'm proud you retaliated despite the "unfortunate" outcome,"

"I don't want to take it again... I-I hate it. I hate it, hyung. I hate it," I sobbed, my grip tightening. "It's terrible. I-It still hurts. It hurts so much... Make it stop. P-Please..."

Drugs became the very thing I despise above all things.

And I hate it with a burning passion, unwavering.

Next Chapter: coming soon . . .

🥀// @yourlocal-babybear @aikihades @sophie-svt-13 @waitingwhispers60 @seventeen-chatbot @kpop-shelter @yangomangos @m00n-nim96 @ghoulxbaekhyun @moonlit-jaemin @empress-jiaqi @time-for-confession @xash-axx @fnafnctdream-chatbot @split-jiu @artsydahyun @softdommechungha @princess-yeji @werewolf-sehun @julia-oc [DM for +/-]

[orangeoctopi7]

Better to Say Too Much

“Say What You Mean to Say” 

Chapter 1

The attic bedroom was filled with awkward silence after Stan forced them to go to bed early. They each lay in their beds, trying to look occupied with reading or knitting, but still glancing over at the other every few seconds. Finally, they both couldn't take the quiet any more.

"Dipper, I'm--"

"Mabel, are you--"

They both laughed awkwardly.

"You first." Dipper offered.

"I… I'm really worried about Bill coming back." Mabel admitted, "you got really hurt the last time, and you could've been hurt way worse if we hadn't been able to stop him at the puppet show. I don't want something like that to happen again. It's more important than ever that we look out for each other."

"It'll be ok, Mabel." Dipper assured her. "Bill can't get to us as long as we're inside the barrier."

A small smile spread across her lips, but she didn't look completely comforted. "What were you gonna say?"

Dipper fidgeted with his sheets. "I was gonna ask… are you still mad at me?"

Mabel glanced back down at her knitting. She was, a little bit. But she couldn’t say that after she’d just told her brother how important it was that they look out for each other. “Well… I haven’t changed my mind about how I feel about you taking Ford’s apprenticeship. But, I know you need more time to think about it, so… I’m just not gonna talk about it for now.”

“So that’s a yes?” Dipper read between the lines.

The colorful girl frowned. “Blargh! I don’t wanna be mad at you, especially not right now, but I just-- I don’t want things to change! I like the way my life is now!”

“Things can’t stay frozen like this forever Mabel, that’s just how life works. Things change.”

Mabel buried herself into her blankets. “I guess.” She mumbled sullenly. “Let’s just not talk about it right now, OK? I know you want time to think about it.”

“Ok, but we do need to talk about this at some point.”

“I already told you what I think about it.”

“Yeah, but we need to talk about it when we’re both calm and not super emotional. I’m not gonna make a decision without your input.”

Mabel poked her head back out of her blankets. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dipper affirmed,  “You were right, this affects you too.”

That certainly made Mabel feel a little better. But it also made her a little anxious. She was going to have to come up with a calm, rational, Dipper-friendly explanation for why she thought the apprenticeship with Ford was a bad idea beyond just ‘You are my brother and I don’t want you to leave me’.

* * *

Sunlight was just barely beginning to filter through the darkness when Stan was awoken by the sound of power tools the next morning. He groggily rose out of bed, wondering if Soos had come in early and started on some repairs around the shack. It wouldn’t be the first time. As the racket continued, Stan once again found himself wondering how the heck the kids could sleep through all this noise. Upon reaching the gift shop, Stan found not Soos, but Ford, in the middle of messing with the security cameras. 

“...Did you even sleep last night?” Stan asked, still half-asleep.

“No, I spent most of the night attempting to crack open the containment unit.” Ford replied without turning around. Apparently he’d seen his brother coming on the security feed. “I only managed to expand the crack another millimeter or so, but it’s clear that Mabel was right. It’s curing more slowly within the dome.”

“Uh... “ Whatever his brother had just said went right over Stan’s still sleep-addled head. “What’re you doin’ up here?”

“You said I could use your security cameras to monitor the secret entrance to the lab." Ford reminded him. "You also said if I stayed in here, it would attract too much attention. So I'm rerouting the feed to the den."

"I said you could watch the video feed from my office.”

"It takes exactly forty-three seconds for me to run downstairs from your office to the secret entrance. In that time someone could input the code and be halfway down the elevator. I'm going to be set up right on the other side of that door." Ford pointed to the Employees Only sign that led into the den.

"Why don't you just change it over to a wireless feed, while you're at it." Stan rolled his eyes. 

"That’s what I’m doing." Ford answered, not realizing his brother's question had been both rhetorical and sarcastic. 

“Fine. Just don’t forget, you’re supposed to call Dipper ‘n Mabel’s parents today.” Stan reminded him.

Ford checked his watch. “I doubt they’re up at this hour.”

“Then why the heck are you up doin’ this!?”

“I need to finish before you open this place up to tours.”

Stan gave a roaring yawn. “Oh yeah, that reminds me.” He taped an Out of Order sign up on the vending machine. “So you don’t come charging in guns ablazing every time some schmuck wants a cheese log.”

“Good thinking.” Ford said simply.

“Welp, I’m already up. Might as well start makin’ breakfast.” Stan scratched his rear and turned to leave. He almost asked Ford if he wanted anything, but thought better of it. His brother at least came upstairs to have dinner with the family most days, but Stan never saw him eat any other meals. Dipper had mentioned something about nutrition pills at some point. Stan thought that was an affront against nature and taste buds, but hey, if it meant one less mouth to feed, he wasn’t going to complain.

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Ford did finish his upgrade of the security cameras before the Mystery Shack opened, although it hardly mattered. The only people there that morning were Wendy and Soos.

“Aw man, the vending machine’s out of order again?” Wendy complained when she saw the sign taped up on its front.

“Eh, not exactly.” Stan shrugged. “My brother’s got some super-dangerous ball of glitter-glue down there, and this jerk called Bill wants to steal it. I figured it was safer just to not let anybody use the vending machine. I did the same thing right after those agents started snooping around.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot there really is a secret passage back there!” Wendy recalled  “That’s so weird, I had a dream about that last night.” 

The Employees Only door slammed open and Ford loomed into the gift shop.

"Oh, hey Stan Two." Wendy greeted him, as if it were perfectly normal for your boss' long-lost twin to suddenly barge in on a conversation.

"Tell me everything you can remember about this dream." The old researcher demanded.

"Well, that's what was really weird about it. I don't normally remember my dreams, but this one was really vivid." Wendy explained.

"Yes, and what happened?"

"Uh, I opened up the secret passage behind the vending machine… then there were like stairs leading to an elevator? That was really weird. Then when I got out of the elevator there were like, I dunno, balloons or bubbles or something everywhere? Dipper was down there, but he was weird too. Kinda like when he went nuts during Mabel's puppet show last month? Anyway, he handed me my axe and wanted me to start popping the bubbles, or whatever they were. Like I said, man, it was weird."

"How did it end?" Ford asked frantically.

"Uh, I think I woke up after he gave me the axe."

"Did you make any deals? Did you shake his hand!?"

"Nnnnnooo?" Wendy replied, starting to feel a little weirded out.

Ford grabbed her by the shoulders. "This is gravely serious. Your dreams were invaded last night by Bill Cipher."

"Wait, you mean like that jerk Mabel needed the unicorn hair to get rid of?"

"Yes, and he's trying to convince you to cut open the rift I already sealed! What exactly did he say to you?"

"Who, you mean the Dipper in my dream?"

"Yes, I'm almost certain that was Bill in disguise. Did he have yellow eyes?"

Wendy looked genuinely spooked now. "How… how did you know that?"

"What did he say to you?" Ford repeated forcefully.

"Relax, Captain Paranoid." Stan stepped between his brother and his employee. 

"I am not paranoid!!" Ford shouted. "There is no possible way she could just coincidentally dream all those details, it has to be Bill!"

"I know, alright, but you're freaking her out!"

To the untrained eye, Wendy just looked mildly perturbed, but Stan had known her long enough to know mildly perturbed for Wendy was on the verge of a panic attack for an average person.

Ford tried to reel in his frantic, fearful energy, but he still needed to know what happened. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to frighten you, it's just--"

"I'm not frightened." Wendy insisted. "It's just a lot to take in, ya know?" She paused and thought back to her dream. "He just handed me my axe, and said 'Have at it, Red!' and that's not how Dipper talks to me, so I woke up."

Stan could practically see the gears turning in Ford’s head as the old researcher tried to guess what Bill was up to. The old conman was pretty worried about the whole thing himself; he honestly hadn’t thought Bill would bother anyone outside their immediate family, but he wasn’t about to let any of that show. Wendy was freaked out enough as it was. 

“Thank you… Wendy, was it?” Ford finally said. “For now, you needn’t worry. Just be cautious if you have any more strange dreams: don’t shake anyone’s hand, don’t make any deals, and don’t burst any bubbles, balloons, or other dome-like things.”

“Yeah, sure.” Wendy nodded, which Stan knew was probably the strongest affirmative she’d ever give any adult. 

“Do you dudes wanna hear about the weird dream I had last night?” Soos asked.

“Yes.” Ford said gravely.

“Oh boy.” Stan just rolled his eyes.

“Ok, so I was at Beryl City Nerdic Con with Melody, only she wasn’t actually there in person, she was just there on my laptop that I had to carry around with me, and I was trying to go to a panel where Mr. Pines was the guest speaker, except the room kept on getting changed, so I was running all over the convention center, but I had to be careful not to drop my laptop, or Melody couldn’t see what was happening. And then they moved the panel to a tent outside…”

Stan pulled Wendy aside while Soos continued the ramble on. “Hey, kid, we’re pretty slow today, so if you’re not feelin’ great after last night--”

“I’m fine, Mr. Pines.” The girl insisted. But the fact that she’d passed up an opportunity to get out of work for the day was practically a blinking sign advertising the fact that she was definitely not fine. 

“If you say so.” Stan folded his arms. “But like I said, we’re slow. Do me a favor an’ go check on the kids. I haven’t seen either of ‘em all morning.”

“Yeah, alright.” She walked through the Employees Only door and into the main part of the house. Stan was sure Dipper and Mabel would do a better job of explaining what was going on and comforting the teen than his brother had. Of course, Ford had set the bar pretty low.

“... So I spent like, the next twenty minutes of the dream working on this dude’s engine. And when I’m finally done, instead of asking him to give me a ride to the panel, I just keep walking! I didn’t even realize I could’ve asked him that until we were like a block down the street and Melody brought it up! So then it started raining--”

“Soos,” Ford finally interrupted the handyman’s long winded retelling. “Were there yellow eyes at any point in this dream?” 

“Uh, not that I remember.”

“Did you ever shake anyone’s hand?”

“Nah, I had to keep holding on to Melody’s laptop.”

“Did you make a deal with anyone?”

“Well, I did start working at that restaurant, and fix that one dude’s truck. But those weren’t really deals, I don’t think. I just saw jobs that needed to be done.”

“Then I think I can say with certainty that Bill Cipher did not enter your dreams last night.”

“Heheh, what a relief! So anyway, once we got to the tent where the panel was being held…”

* * *

Mabel had been texting back and forth with Pacifica since she’d gotten up that morning. 

Pacifica, I have a weird question for you

I thought I told you to delete this number

And for the last time, it wasn’t actually a hug

No, not about you and diper

*Dipper

Have your parents been acting weird lately?

What do you mean they’re never weird

They’re the opposite of weird

They’re just really rich and controlling

I mean have they been acting different from usual?

No they’re just mad at me

 why?

Its a long story. Come over later and ill tell you about it!!!

Can’t

I’m super grounded after the photoshoot thing

Do we need to come rescue you???!?!

No please don’t I’ll just get in more trouble

:( :( :(

Well let me know if you have any weird dreams or anything

Why what’s going on?

I don’t think its safe to talk bout it over phone

Are you ok?

:D :D :D :D 

Yeah im fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I helped Grunkle Ford set up a protection spell

You remember he was the one you said looked like hot Stan

OMG SHUT UP!!

The colorful girl hadn’t heard back from her crazy rich rival since that last comment, but at least it seemed nothing was up with the Northwests. Mabel sighed as she hugged Waddles and scrolled back up through their conversation. She may have stretched the truth a bit with Pacifica. “Fine” probably wasn’t the right word for how she felt. But she didn’t want her friend to worry about her. 

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a knock on the door. 

“What up, dudes?” Wendy called from the other side.

Mabel finally got up out of bed and opened the door to her teenaged friend. “Wendy! What are you doing up here?”

“Stan asked me to come check on you guys.” She shrugged. “Hey, where’s Dipper?”

“I think he’s on the roof. He… he needed some time to himself for thinking.”

“Well, he’d better be done, ‘cuz I need to talk to him.” Wendy said sternly.

Mabel led the ginger teen over to the nearest window with access to the roof. It wasn’t necessary, Wendy knew her way around the Shack, but the colorful girl needed an excuse to get up and out of her room. Once Wendy was outside, Waddles started thumping down the stairs, probably in search of a late breakfast. Mabel followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Stan had made bacon and cheesy eggs, although they’d gone cold by the time Mabel reached them. Oh well, it was nothing a few seconds in the microwave couldn’t fix. The girl scooped the eggs into a bowl and nuked them for a few seconds. Waddles sniffed at the food on the table above him.

“No Waddles!” Mabel admonished him, pushing away the plate of bacon. “That’s cannibalism!”

Once it was warmed, she scooped half her eggs directly into the pig’s mouth, then proceeded to eat the rest herself. After finishing breakfast, she made a beeline for the livingroom and the TV, intent on watching Saturday morning cartoons. The den and the livingroom kind of bled into each other, and when Mabel sat down on the recliner in front of the TV, she couldn’t help but notice Ford sitting at the card table around the corner, intently watching his own screen. 

The girl wondered if this was the right time to finally confront Ford about the apprenticeship thing. They were alone in the house at the moment, but he looked busy. Then she remembered. Ford had said he wanted to watch the security cameras to make sure no tourists tried to get into the lab today! Mabel knew better than to try and interrupt that, so she just flipped on the TV instead. 

The sound of the TV turning on, however, alerted Ford to her presence. The old researcher looked up at her, then back down at his screen, then glanced at the door, back at the screen, and finally back up at Mabel again.

"Mabel, may I speak with you for a moment?" He asked.

Mabel's brain tripped all over itself. This was her chance, but what was she supposed to say? How could she explain to her Grunkle how what he was offering Dipper was hurting her? Would he get mad at her? Was she going to lose control of her emotions and get mad at him?

Her apprehension must have been apparent, because Ford crossed the room and knelt down beside her, getting on her eye level. "I want you to know, it was never my intention to hurt you by offering Dipper the apprenticeship. I guessed it might upset you, but I didn't realize just how strongly you'd react, or how terrible my timing was. I'm afraid I can't give you the same kind of personalized education I can give your brother, the kind of education you deserve, but you're welcome to stay here too, if you wish."

The girl was stunned, unsure of how to react. Her thoughts, which had already been scrambling to figure out how to confront Ford, were knocked completely off-course. Wasn’t this what she wanted? More time in Gravity Falls? More time to spend with her new family and friends? More time to have adventures with her brother? Or had her new Grunkle’s offer just made her situation worse? If Mabel stayed in Gravity Falls, she wouldn’t get to go to school with her old friends, wouldn’t get to go home to her mom and dad, or her cat, back in Piedmont. 

“...Mabel?” Ford asked when she hesitated.

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but you’re not!” She finally cried. “You’re making me choose between my brother and my parents!”

“Mabel, no--”

“Yes, you are!” She maintained, with tears in her eyes. “I know you’ve been alone for a long time, and you’re mad at your brother, b-but you’ve got to understand how hard a decision you’re asking us to make!”

The old researcher was obviously distressed that he’d made his niece cry, but he went on talking anyway.

“Mabel, I do realize how difficult a decision this is... and you don’t have to make that decision right away. I just-- just realized it wasn’t fair to not at least give you that option. And I know you’re capable. You’ve already made several difficult decisions this summer, from what I’ve heard.”

“So what’s one more, right?” She cried indignantly, wiping furiously away at her tears and storming off. 

Unfortunately, the sounds of their argument had attracted Stan. He poked his head in from the gift shop just in time to see Mabel’s aggrieved exit. The old conman entered the room, and if looks could kill, Ford would have been dead on the spot. 

“What. Did you. Do?” 

* * *

The roof held its fair share of bad memories for Dipper. It was where Wax Sherlock Holmes had tried to kill him, where Tyrone had melted, where Bill had first tried to make a deal with him. But there were some good memories too. It was where he’d first started hanging out with Wendy, where he’d lit off fireworks with Grunkle Stan and Mabel, where he still liked to go when he needed someplace to think. It was some peace and quiet away from his raucous family members. Dipper definitely got why Ford spent so much time in the basement. 

Today it was especially nice. The weather was cooling as fall approached, and a pleasant breeze whispered through the treetops. The sun-warmed shingles were just the right temperature, making a comfortable seat. 

Dipper needed the tranquil environment. He had a lot on his mind, and a big decision to make. Today was the first time since Ford had offered him the apprenticeship that he had an opportunity to stop and really consider his options. So far, the boy had compiled a detailed pros and cons chart, and was currently in the process of reviewing that list and giving each item a weighted score. Pros like “Don’t have to ride bus back to Piedmont” only got one point, while pros like “Get to explore UFO” got ten. The cons were rated on a similar scale, with the worst one, “Don’t go home with Mabel”, getting a score of eleven, because it was a very bad con. 

“Hmmm, get to hang out with Wendy after school… Would that be a six or a seven? Mabey an eight?” He mumbled to himself.

“I’d go with eight. I might be biased though.” Wendy’s voice replied behind him.

The boy’s face flushed the same shade of red as the teen’s hair. “W-wendy! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there! It’s not--I’m not--I just wanna hang out as friends, I swear!”

“Don’t sweat it, man!” She punched him playfully in the arm. “I’m the one who snuck up on you.”

“Heh.” Dipper forced out an awkward chuckle. “Did you come up here to escape work?”

“Eh, sorta.” Wendy waggled her hand in a so-so motion. “Stan asked me to check on you dudes.”

“Oh. Yeah, everyone’s kinda freaked out right now ‘cuz Bill showed up yesterday. He tried to make a deal with Mabel and Stan, and then when he couldn’t, he got angry and started making threats. Ford’s got something he wants, but it’s safe, thanks to that unicorn hair you and Mabel got the other day. We just have to make sure it stays that way.”

“Yyyeah, that’s kinda the other reason I’m up here.” Wendy admitted.

Dipper turned his full attention to her. He hadn’t seen Wendy this nervous since they almost got their memories wiped. 

“So… I had a weird dream last night. I didn’t really think anything of it until I talked to Ford about it when I got into work just now… but… he seemed to think it was that Bill guy, and honestly… I think he’s right.”

Dipper’s eyes widened with fear. “Ohmigosh, a-are you ok? What happened? Did he try to make a deal with you? Did he threaten you or your family?”

“Nah, dude, he just… It was weird, I guess in the dream he was pretending to be you? I went down into the Shack’s basement and it was filled with these bubbles of glitter, or something, and you were down there, but your eyes were yellow and you were calling me weird names. You gave me my axe and said ‘Have at it’. Or, Bill did, I guess.”

The breeze that had once felt pleasant was now sending shivers up Dipper’s spine. “The rift! He was trying to get you to cut open the rift!”

"Yeah, that's what your Uncle said. Uh, and that is…?” Wendy asked.

The boy hesitated. Ford had asked Dipper not to tell anyone about the rift, not even Stan or Mabel… but that had almost led to Bill tricking them yesterday. He probably would have, if not for Stan’s instincts. It would probably be best if he told Wendy, right? He’d already kinda spilled the beans, after all.

“The portal that Stan used to bring Ford home created a rip in the universe.” Dipper explained. “Bill wants it so he can invade our world. Me and Ford sealed it up with an alien adhesive, but it’s taking longer to dry than we thought, so it’s still vulnerable. And Bill will try to convince anyone to break it open.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t all that convincing, if you ask me.” Wendy said flippantly.

Dipper thought back to that night over a month ago on this very roof. “He wasn’t that convincing the first time he tried to trick me either. But then he showed up when I was desperate, and…” He suddenly understood why Ford had been so reluctant to share his past with Bill. Dipper couldn’t reveal such an embarrassing secret, especially not to Wendy. Still, it was probably the most effective way to explain what Bill was capable of to her.

“You remember what happened at Mabel’s puppet show, last month?”

“Yeah dude, you were so sleep deprived you started acting like the villain from a bad slasher flick.”

“That… wasn’t sleep deprivation. Bill possessed me.”

“Wait, what?” Wendy asked in disbelief.

“I-I screwed up. He said he’d give me the answers I was looking for, and all he wanted in return was a puppet. But I was the puppet!”

Wendy stared at him in horror. Dipper’s stomach flip-flopped. Was she going to tell him off for being stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick? Was she afraid that Bill would come back and possess him again? Did she even believe him, or did she think he’d finally lost his mind?

“That wasn’t you…” she finally spoke in a low voice  “...and I didn’t even realize… no, I knew something was off, but… Oh my gosh, Dipper, I’m so sorry, I should’ve done something!” 

“What? No, Wendy, it’s not your fault!” he assured her. “I just wanted to warn you! Bill might come back, you need to know how he works, what he might try to do.”

The ginger teen stared out over the forest with a far-away look, her knuckles bone-white as she tightly gripped the edge of the roof. Dipper realized her gaze was pointed towards her house.

“Hey, uh, if I were to get my hands on some more unicorn hair, would your uncle be able to, I dunno, protect my house the way he did to the Shack?”

“Uh, I think so…” Dipper replied. “I’d have to ask him first.”

“Great. You talk to Ford. I gotta go talk to Stan. I think I’m gonna take the day off after all.”

* * *

Stan had just finished up a tour with a young couple who seemed more interested in each other than the exhibits. Eh, he’d take what he could get. Maybe he could set up a secluded corner of the gift shop and charge them to use the “Mystery Make-out Cave”. 

He’d been about to move the T-shirt rack to start just that, when he heard a raised voice coming from the den. Stan turned up his hearing aide and leaned his ear against the door. It was Mabel, and she sounded upset. Next, he heard the long-winded ramblings of Ford. Whatever his big-mouthed brother had said obviously didn’t make Mabel feel any better. Stan poked his head into the room to see what all the commotion was about, just in time to see her fleeing the room. He’d only caught a glimpse of her face before she rounded the corner, but it was enough to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What. Did you. Do?” Stan asked, his voice dangerously low.

Ford at least had the decency to feel guilty about making his niece cry. “I-I just told her she was welcome to stay here with Dipper during his apprenticeship, but for some reason beyond my understanding--”

“You did what!?” Stan growled.

“You’re the one who told me I was excluding Mabel by not extending her an offer as well!”

“You were supposed to call their parents first, genius!”

“You never said anything about which one I was supposed to do first!”

Part of Stan wanted to shake his brother, ask him how a guy with 12 PhD’s could be so stupid. But the other part of Stan knew Ford had always been like this. You had to give him ridiculously specific instructions when it came to social interactions, or he’d completely mess them up. Sometimes he’d mess them up even with instructions. It was Stan’s own fault for not saying “First you have to call the kids’ parents and get their permission. Then, there won’t be a then because there’s no way on Earth they’ll ever agree to it!”

Instead, Stan just pinched the bridge of his nose, massaged his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the oncoming stress-headache, and heaved a sigh of frustration.  

“You know what your problem is? You’re treatin’ these kids like adults.”

“You see that as a problem?” Ford raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps your problem is that you treat them too much like children.”

“I don’t mean talkin’ down to them, or babying them!” Stan clarified. “I mean tryin’ to give them a normal-ish childhood! I mean not expectin’ them to grow up too fast! I mean not dumping huge problems or decisions on them! I mean lettin’ them enjoy bein’ young while they still can!”

“Normal is overrated.” Ford replied coolly. “And I still fail to see why they can’t enjoy being young here in Gravity Falls.”

Stan gave up. Why did he ever think his brother would listen to him? There was obviously only one way he was gonna make Ford see reason.

“Alright, time for you to call the kids parents.”

“I’ll call them after you shut down the gift shop for the day.” Ford said, looking back down at the security feed on his future-tech screen. 

“Quit putting it off, Sixer! I’ll watch the gift shop. You go call. Now.” Stan insisted forcefully.

Thankfully, Ford relented. Just as he was about to enter the kitchen to access the phone there, Stan stopped him.

“Their numbers are on the fridge. Micha and Deborah. You probably have the best chance of reachin’ Debbs this time of day. Don’t call her Debbie, or she’ll chew you out for fifteen minutes.”

“Noted.” Ford nodded.

Stan returned to the gift shop. Someone had to keep an eye on the vending machine, after all. Of course, he was also going to keep an ear on Ford’s call, to make sure the nerd didn’t worm his way out of actually asking for permission. 

When they were kids growing up in New Jersey, Stan and Ford would often listen in on their mother’s customers by carefully picking up the second receiver downstairs in the pawn shop. All they had to do was cover the mic and be careful not to giggle too much, and even their mom wouldn’t realize they were listening in until either one of them laughed too loud or dropped the phone. Stan’s landline had a second receiver in the gift shop, right next to the cash register.

The old conman picked up the phone, pressed his thumb over the mic, and held the speaker up to his ear. Bingo! It was still ringing, and it didn’t seem that Ford realized his brother was listening in, as the old nerd was humming to himself as he waited.

“Hello? Stanford?” Debbs asked as she answered the phone.

Ford's little gasp was amplified by the crackle of his breath into the phone's mic. "H-how did you-- you know who I am?"

"Caller ID, silly!" She explained with a giggle. "I know you're old, Stan, but it's been a thing since the 80's."

"Actually, it's been around since the 60's," Ford corrected her, "although I imagine its use became much more widespread after 1982."

"Uh, yeah… Stanford, are you sick? You sound, um… you don't sound like yourself."

Stan grit his teeth. Sure, rub salt in that wound. Because his brother didn't already hate him enough.

"I'm fine." Ford answered stiffly. "It's an incredibly long story, one I don't have time to relate over the phone now. Suffice to say, I'm more myself now than I've been in the last 30 years. But I have more important things to discuss with you."

"Is everything ok?" Debbs asked, a hint of worry coloring her voice.

Don't mention the dream demon threatening to kill us all! Stan thought desperately.

"Oh, I'm not calling about any trouble." Ford assured her.

Stan breathed a sigh of relief. So his brother wasn't completely clueless after all.

"I'm actually calling because I have a great opportunity for Dipper and Mabel!" The old researcher continued enthusiastically.

"Did you find discounted bus tickets?"

"No. In fact, there's a good chance you won't need to buy bus tickets at all! You see, I'd like to take Dipper on as my apprentice studying the anomalies of Gravity Falls! Mabel is welcome to stay too, although I'll need to find an appropriate teacher for her as soon as I take care of… ah, some more pressing matters in my work. I promise you, I'll make sure they continue to keep in regular contact with you through weekly letters, and with modern communications technology, you'll be able to talk with them face-to-face whenever you like. We'll also make time to come down and visit as often as our studies will allow. All I need is your permission for them to continue their stay here."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Debbs giggled nervously, like she was forcing herself to laugh at a joke she didn't get.

"Uhhh, that's great Stan. Are you practicing one of your new sales pitches on me?"

"I assure you, this is not one of my brother's schemes." Ford insisted. "You're my family, I would never expect any kind of compensation, regardless of how much the price of a secondary education had risen."

"Secondary education? I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"I realize they're both at a seventh-grade level now, but I have twelve PhD's. With my one-on-one personalized teaching, even Mabel could begin learning at the college level in a couple of years. As for Dipper, I'm confident he could reach that level before next summer."

“No.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll need to speak to your husband about it first, but we’ve still got another week to come to an agreement.”

Debbs' voice switched from sweet and patient to icy and venomous. "Listen, I dunno who you think you are, but you're not getting my kids!!"

“Y-you misunderstand me.” Ford’s voice faltered. “I don’t want to take your kids away from you, I’m just trying to give them a better education than what’s available to them back in California. Like I said, we’ll keep in regular contact, and we’ll come to visit--”

“Oh, I don’t care what kinda ‘better education’ you’re offering!” Debbs snapped sharply. “Nothing is worth being separated from my children!”

“What? But… but you’re separated from them right now! You’ve been separated for months! Why is it suddenly a problem now?” Ford asked in confusion.

“Two and a half months.” Debbs clarified. “Two and a half months so they could get out of the city and spend some time in the great outdoors, and even that’s been hard. And you expect me to just… just let my babies move away?”

“E-everyone moves away from home eventually, though.” Ford reasoned. “Surely, you don’t want them to still be living with you when they’re in their thirties!”

“Eventually, maybe. But not when they’re barely even thirteen!” She retorted. “Now you listen to me Stanford, or whoever you are. My kids had better be on the bus back to Piedmont come next Friday, or I’m coming up there to get them myself. And you’d better believe if I have to do that, they’re never going back to Gravity Falls again!”

With that, she hung up. Stan quickly hung up as well, so Ford didn’t notice the line was still active. 

“...Great.” Stan hissed to himself, massaging his temples. That stress headache was really setting in now. 

He’d been counting on this talk with the kids’ folks to be a wake-up call to Ford, but he hadn’t stopped to think about how much damage control he was gonna have to do afterwards. How could he have forgotten how much of an interpersonal relationship disaster his brother was? He should have been there in the same room with Ford, coaching him through it, making sure the nerd didn’t screw things up for both of them like this. 

Stan picked the phone back up and dialed Deborah’s number, hoping against all logic that she’d pick up. He needed to fix this, or he might never be allowed to see the kids again. The old conman felt a wave of relief when she actually answered.

“Debbs, that wasn’t me on the phone just now!” He shouted into the receiver the moment he heard her pick up.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” she replied. “Do you know who that was? What’s going on?”

“Uh… just some guy I went to highschool with back in Jersey.” The best way to sell a lie is with a bunch of technically true facts. “He’s here visiting.”

"What is his problem!?"

“I dunno, Debbs, he’s got some serious issues.” Stan rolled his eyes. “But, you know I’d do anything to make sure Dipper and Mabel come home safe to you, right? You don’t gotta worry.”

“I know, Stanford, and I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d really don’t feel comfortable with the kids spending time with your friend.”

“We, uh, we’re not exactly friends anymore.” Stan clarified, his heart sinking.

"Well, that should make it easier to tell him to stay away from my children."

Stan had originally just called Debbs back to reassure her and make sure he didn't lose the privilege of taking care of the kids. He'd done that. He could just say 'You got it' and hang up, but he didn't. Instead he found himself opening up his mouth and defending his brother.

"Look, I know he was way out of line, tryin' to ask you to send the kids up here year-round, but I swear to you, he doesn't mean 'em any harm. He, uh, he's been on his own for a long time, and he's been through some terrible stuff. I'm not exaggerating when I say Dipper and Mabel are probably the best thing to happen to him in 30 years. He wasn't great with people before, and all that time alone definitely didn't help. I tried to tell him he couldn't just invite the kids to stay here all year, but he wouldn't listen to me. So I told him to call you. I shouldn'ta done that, I'm sorry. It, uh, it's my fault."

Stan wasn’t sure why he was sticking his neck out for his brother like this, but regardless of how he and his brother felt about each other, Stan knew the kids loved Ford, and the nerd loved them right back. Even if Mabel was really upset with Ford right now. If the girl could forgive someone like Pacifica Northwest, she'd definitely make up with her mysterious new uncle who spoke in overdramatic monologues and sent her to look for unicorns. It would break all three of their hearts if they weren’t allowed to see each other any more. 

Debbs sighed, but it was with more fondness than frustration. “Helping someone heal from trauma does sound just like my little angels… but can you promise me he’s not dangerous?”

Stan remembered what he’d told Dipper, just last week. My brother is a dangerous know-it-all… 

But hey, he was already an expert at lying to his family.

“Yeah, sure, I promise. And if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure he’d take a bullet for either of them. Not, heh, not that he would ever need to!”

“Well, ok. I suppose that’s the best I can ask for, short of driving up there and having a talk with him myself.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend it. We’re at peak tourist season here, the Mystery Shack’s a hive of activity.” Stan said, looking out over the deserted gift shop.

“Well, thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to call me.”

“Hey, family comes first.”

“Too right. Oh, and I never got your… uh, acquaintance’s name.”

“Fffffrank.”

“Ok. Please try and have another talk with Frank. I know you said he wouldn’t listen to you, but--”

“Oh trust me, I’m gonna have a long talk with him.”

“Thank you, Stan. Take care!”

“Yeah, you too.” Stan hung up and turned to his handyman. “Soos, hold down the fort for me, and keep an eye on the vending machine. I gotta go have another talk with my brother.”

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Choice

(Hayffie pregnancy. 6 years after the Revolution.)

Effie sat at the vanity in her Capitol apartment. The tabletop was neatly stacked with cases of makeup and bottles of polish, lotions, and perfumes. Nearly everything was in its proper place. She slid her fingers along the mahogany surface and paused on the one item that didn’t belong there; a plastic container which held two pills, the first to help her cervix open and the second to help her uterus contract. “Help,” the doctor had said to simplify the science, but the word felt as out of place as plastic on glossy wood.

She looked up at the mirror. Her face was bare and her hair natural. It was difficult to look at herself with imperfections glaring back. 38 years of smiles, genuine and false, had brought lines to her cheeks and to the corners of her eyes. The creases stayed now, even when she wasn’t forcing a smile. The illusion of agelessness was becoming harder for her to effect.

“Pregnant?? You MUST be mistaken. It’s just a stomach flu.” she had said to the doctor with incredulity and indignation, “I simply can’t be pregnant. I’m too... old.” She held the thought but left it unspoken.

“There’s no mistake, Ma’am.”

The “Ma’am” comment didn’t help matters. She’d glared at him in annoyance.

“Would you like to see a scan and hear the heartbeat?” he asked.

Effie was stunned. “There’s a heartbeat?”

“We should be able to hear it with a vaginal ultrasound. Without one, it will be difficult to assess the gestational age since you’ve been on continuous hormones to prevent ovulation and menstruation for...” The doctor glanced at Effie’s chart. “...Many years.”

“Prevent ovulation... Hah! That’s a laugh.”

“Hormonal birth control is 99% effective when used correctly.”

“Well, OF COURSE I used it correctly!”

“I’m not implying otherwise, Mrs... “The doctor glanced at her chart again. “...Trinket. Even with flawless use there’s still a 1% chance of pregnancy. And, well, here you are.”

Apparently the odds were not in Effie’s favor. She considered the irony and clung to the possibility of a false positive.

“It’s MS. Trinket! And YES I need to see a scan.”

The ultrasound was quick, and moments later Effie was listening to a heartbeat and looking at an image of what appeared to be a microscopic teddy bear, only without ears yet.

“That’s human?”

The doctor stifled a chuckle. “Indeed, Ms. Trinket, your baby is human.”

“My... baby?”

“And in perfect development for 9 weeks gestation.”

“9 weeks?”

Oh, my God... Haymitch.

“And perfect,” the doctor said that word again.

“This is NOT perfect. This situation is not even remotely perfect! I did not intend for this to happen.”

“I understand,” the doctor sympathized, “Would you like for me to explain your options?”

“Yes. Please... Can’t someone else VOLUNTEER for this?” Effie focused on not hyperventilating as the doctor described medications and procedures used for abortion. He also described the course of pregnancy if she chose to not terminate.

In the end, Effie carried the pills home in that plastic container. She also took a digital copy of the ultrasound. Though she wasn’t sure why, because the thrumming of that tiny heartbeat would probably be stuck in her mind forever.

The vanity mirror and the birth control had been tricksters. Effie felt like a fool. An imperfect fool... with a perfect “baby” inside her. Of course any baby she conceived WOULD be perfect. “Nothing but the best for my girl,” she recalled her mother’s oft-spoken words.

Would this baby be a girl too if she let it happen? Or would it be a boy?

Effie stared at the pills, then stared again at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t see a baby. She couldn’t feel anything inside her. She felt alone.

She sent Haymitch a message. “I need to see you. Can I come tomorrow? — E”

He sent a teasing response later that evening. “It would be my pleasure to make you come tomorrow. — H”

Effie couldn’t help but smile, before she started to cry.

***

Six years had passed since the Revolution, and Haymitch considered himself at this point to be a fairly functional alcoholic. One of the ways he stayed functional was to work. His expertise in strategy made him a sought after consultant by both government and businesses in the Republic. But he rejected offers at that life. He decided instead to raise geese.

“A goose farmer?” Effie had laughed years ago at his plans, thinking he was joking about a brand of liquor that was popular in the Capitol. “Yeah, right, I’m sure you’ll be *farming* that *Goose* day and night.”

“Nice try, Sweetheart. But I’m not joking. My mother raised geese. She turned a decent profit on their eggs and meat. Not enough to keep from having to put my name in extra times each year at the reaping, but enough to survive awhile.”

“I didn’t know.” Effie had developed a habit of laying her hand on his chest and stroking the hollow between his collarbones as an offering of tenderness whenever she pitied him. Haymitch hated to be pitied, but he let her do it because the way she did it felt so good.

“Now you know.” He pulled away slowly. Feeling good with her, with anyone, for too long was dangerous. “Some eggs hatched last week. The goslings are still in the incubator. Do you want to see?”

“They’re inside your HOUSE?!”

“For now,” he chuckled, taking her hand and leading her to another room. On a table was a heat lamp glowing red above a slotted crate filled with the chatter of baby geese.”

“I declare! Haymitch Abernathy is a goose farmer. I never imagined myself saying those words.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not a total career change; I’m still a drunk too.” He winked at her, then lifted the lid off the crate.

The goslings still had their downy plumage. They were balls of fluff, and Effie’s eyes lit up like a little girl. The light came from inside her, much deeper than her gold mascara.

“Do you want to hold one?”

“Hold one!? Goodness, no. I have no idea how to do that. I’d probably squeeze the poor thing to death.” She watched Haymitch pick up a gosling and cradle it in his palm. Those hands were lethal in The Games because they had to be. Those hands clutched a knife in sleep. And those hands had such capacity for gentleness. She knew.

“Hold out your hands; you’ll be alright.”

She hesitated.

“Honey, I know how soft your hands are. Trust me; you’ll be alright.”

Effie cupped her hands like a chalice. She squealed a bit as he placed the gosling into her palms.

“Shhh,” he said to soothe them.

“Ohhhh, it’s feet are walking on me!” Effie fussed.

“It’s just a baby, Sweetheart. It’s not going anywhere. You’re alright. You’ll be alright.”

“It tickles,” Effie giggled, natural like a girl again, discovering pleasure in something new. “It’s soft.” She looked at Haymitch. Then back to the gosling she said, “Hello, you.”

Haymitch watched her with amused enchantment. In the months since the Revolution, her appearance had become less clown-like and more authentically her. He was still figuring out who that was, and he guessed she was still figuring herself out too.

“Take it!” she hollered suddenly, “It just defecated in my hand. Take this thing!”

Haymitch laughed as he put the gosling back with the others, and Effie ran to the bathroom. He closed the crate and followed her.

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I feel defiled. This sink is not enough. I need a bath.”

He held her hips from behind, looking at her in the mirror. “You don’t look defiled, not yet. I love this shirt and skirt thing you’te wearing.” He slipped his thumbs under the hem of her blouse, caressing her skin in circles. “I need a bath too. Do you want company?”

She turned around to face him. She might be squeamish about baby things, but Haymitch she could handle. She slid her arms around his waist and untucked the back of his shirt . “Well, I didn’t ride all this way for nothing.”

***

The other way Haymitch stayed functional as an alcoholic was to walk. He walked a lot. The fences that surrounded District 12 for the first 42 years of his life had been cleared away with the rubble during the years of reconstruction. The forest was wide open, and he spent a lot of time in it, just moving. Katniss had warned him years ago to step loudly.

“After everything we’ve been through, I’d hate to mistake you for a deer and shoot you. You probably wouldn’t taste very good.”

“I’m definitely not dear, Sweetheart,” he’d retorted, “Don’t mistake me for that.”

She paused. “Yes, you are. And I’m not the only one who knows it.”

So Haymitch stepped loudly today as usual. As he walked, he wondered about Effie’s message, short and urgent. If she needed a quick fuck, surely she could have gotten that from somebody else without having to ride across the country. Most of the time that’s not how it was with them anyway. Not anymore. Sex between them was loaded with feeling. Way too much feeling for his comfort, but it was too good with her to just stop. He hadn’t been with anyone besides Effie in at least a year. Work, walking, and drinking filled his days and nights. When he wanted more, he took the train to see her, and he never turned her down when she asked to visit.

A couple of months had passed since his last trip to the Capitol. He wouldn’t acknowledge how he missed her and how it felt to receive her message. Last night he dulled the feelings with Scotch. Today he walked and watched the sun move across the sky. The train was scheduled to arrive this evening. Alone in the woods he pretended to not be counting the hours.

***

The monotony of a train ride which she’d taken countless times gave Effie too much space in which to consider and reconsider whether she should have even gotten on the train. Running to the bathroom to throw up during the first few hours of the trip certainly didn’t make anything easier.

She had messaged Haymitch yesterday on inmpulse, in shock really. In the stillness now, reality was sinking in. What would it serve to tell him that she was... pregnant. She could barely think the word. How would she say it out loud? Besides, she was reasonably content with the way things were, and this could screw up everything, not just with Haymitch, who’d grown on her in ways she didn’t understand. But EVERYTHING.

Her glory days as a true fashion icon and escort had died with The Games. But she was still Effie Trinket! She picked herself up and adapted. She fashioned a career within the Republic’s efforts to promote democracy and to honor the fallen. I organize marketing and tours for the entire Memorial Complex for goodness sake! The place would fall apart without me. Effie hadn’t NEEDED anyone for a long time, maybe ever. She couldn’t understand why she suddenly felt alone and vulnerable.

I’ll get over it. Maybe I’ll just get over it. But what if I don’t get over it? Get over WHAT even? Oh, why didn’t the universe just stick to the cards! I had written them out exactly how I wanted my life to be.

She didn’t know.

Somewhere in the stillness, ethics got the best of her or came from the best of her. Haymitch should know about the pregnancy, not just because she felt alone and vulnerable, but because telling him was the right thing to do, regardless of any other decisions she would make and regardless of the consequences.

***

Haymitch sat on his porch beside a purple umbrella. A smile crept over his face as he touched the lace fringe. One gust of wind would destroy the thing, but Effie always prioritized style over function. She probably even had a back-up in her suitcase. She may be impractical but definitely not stupid.

He kicked off his boots and pulled off his socks. Picking out the stickers could wait; he wanted to see her. The door was unlocked; she’d found the spare key. He changed its hiding place periodically. Unfortunately if he moved it when he was drunk, then finding it when he sobered up was sometimes a challenge. Fortunately he didn’t have many hiding spots, nor did he have much inside his house worth stealing. He just felt safer with the doors and windows locked. Not that much safer, but enough to get some sleep occasionally.

Inside he took his coat off and dropped it on the floor.

“I’m in the dining room, Haymitch,” she called out, knowing that surprising him in his house could be dangerous. The one surprise she had for him already felt dangerous enough. “The train arrived early, so I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind.”

Haymitch peered around the corner of the nook she called “the dining room.” Effie sat at the table with a glass of Scotch in front of her. A silk scarf which matched her umbrella draped loosely over her head, wrapped once around her neck, and the fringe hung in front just above her breasts. Her blonde hair peeked out from beneath. Her makeup was light, almost nonexistent. Her dress hugged her curves without flamboyance

She was hiding. This understated appearance was Effie’s way of hiding.

He didn’t know why she was hiding, but he wasn’t complaining. He loved her like this.

“This is ‘the drinking room,’ Sweetheart, and I see you’re off to an early start.”

As he crossed the room, she stood up and stepped into his embrace. He smelled of pine trees, crushed mint, and sweat. He was damp and dusty and probably ruining her clothes, but she didn’t care. Not today. Today she leaned into it all, because what if this was the last time she’d have the chance?

He pulled back just enough to unwrap her scarf and drape it across the back of her chair. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good” is such a short word, she murmured, closing the distance he’d created.

“I have longer options for you,” he whispered into the corner of her mouth.

“Then kiss me. For as long as you want. Just once, without holding back.”

Her breath was cinnamon. It had been weeks since he’d tasted her.. Something was up, but he’d figure it out later.

“Just one kiss?”

“For now.”

“Okay. I won’t hold back if you won’t eith....” He didn’t get to finish that last word before she started the game.

Time moved with the speed of their mouths, slowly at first and then quickening. She slipped her hands under his shirt and her fingers played over the muscles along his sides. Through the past few years he’d become stronger with work. She delighted in his body, but wouldn’t admit it.

“Cheater,” he muttered without breaking their kiss. Her dress was too form-fitting to lift, so he held her waist and caressed her through the fabric. His thumbs traced her ribcage and settled on her stomach, jolting her back to reality.

“Haymitch, wait,” she ended the kiss, trying to find her breath.

“What’s going on, Sweetheart?” He said the endearment without any sarcasm. “How about we sit down, and you tell me, okay? Can you do that?”

Effie nodded, slumping into her chair. He pulled up a chair too and sat close enough to touch her. He just wasn’t sure if she wanted him to touch her. So he waited.

She pushed the glass of Scotch toward him. “I poured this for YOU. Let’s start with this.”

He swallowed the liquor in one gulp, wary.

“You’ll need another.” She poured him a second glass, which he drank as quickly as the first.

“If you want to get me drunk you should just hand me the bottle.”

“I don’t want you drunk, just prepared.”

“Prepared for what?”

She reached into the bag beside her chair, pulled out a disc and slid it along the same path as the Scotch.

“What’s this?”

“Just watch it.”

“Now?”

She nodded.

Haymitch reached behind him and plugged it into the nearest viewer.

The microscopic teddy bear without ears filled the screen. The tiny heartbeat filled the room.

“Jesus, Effie. What is this?” he asked again, already knowing and not yet believing.”

“It’s an ultrasound... It’s... my ultrasound.” She whispered ‘my.’

“When?”

“Yesterday. Well, 9 weeks ago. I mean, the ultrasound was yesterday. But 9 weeks ago...”

Haymitch did the math.

“How did this happen?”

“Isn’t it a little late for the HOW talk? One of my eggs and one of your sperm had a party and made... that.”

“Mine? Are you sure?”

Effie started to simmer. “OF COURSE I’m sure!”

“How can you be sure?”

“I haven’t had sex with anyone besides you in over a year, Haymitch!”

His jaw dropped, and she immediately softened. She hadn’t meant for that reality to slip out. It said too much about her feelings. It revealed depths of her that she didn’t intend.

He reached for the bottle of Scotch, and poured himself a third glass. “Do you want one?”

“A baby?”

“I was going to say a glass of liquor, but let’s go with your question first.”

He looked right at her eyes, right into and through her. He hadn’t walked away from her, not yet.

“A baby?” she wondered, “In THIS world? Who in their right mind would want to have a baby after so much horror?”

“I’m not asking about *anybody in their right mind.* I’m asking about YOU, Sweetheart.” The endearment was soft again.

“That’s NOT funny!”

“I’m not trying to be funny. ...I just notice you’re not drinking.”

Effie reached into her bag again and pulled out the plastic container. “One pill for my cervix to open. Then one the next day for my uterus to contract.”

“You haven’t taken them.”

She shook her head ‘no’.

“Why not?”

The tiny heartbeat kept echoing through the room. Neither of them reached to turn off the viewer.

Effie closed her eyes. “Because of THAT. Because that could become a baby... my baby... our baby. It’s a lot to think about. It could change everything. Even not having it could change everything.”

When she opened her eyes, his were still on her. “It’s been at least a year since I’ve had sex with anyone but you, Honey. Something’s changed already.”

She didn’t expect that response. Everything felt wide open, like her organs might fall out, or maybe it was that thing some people call a soul. He was close enough to touch, but she didn’t touch him.

“When I didn’t care about anyone, it was hard enough. But now...”

“Now what?”

“Now I never stop being scared.” He said it. He’d never said it before.

She caressed his shirt sleeve. “I’m scared too.”

“You’re alright. You’re going to be alright.” He covered her hand with his.

She wanted to ask him the same question that he had asked her, Do YOU want a baby?

She was afraid that his answer would be ‘yes.’ And she was afraid that his answer would be ‘no.’

Mostly she was afraid of her own answer, the one she hadn’t yet spoken.

[wicked-game-black-butler]

"Would you care to step out from behind the shade?" Sebastian asked, causing me to jump as I hadn't realized how close he had come.

My brow furrowed at his request, "Shouldn't I dress first?"

"Clothing would hinder my inspection of your wounds." he quickly replied.

My pulse quickened as I found my feet conveying me around the cover of the shade before my mind had an opportunity to agree. As I rounded the corner my gaze immediately fell on Sebastian, who looked as perfectly put together as he always did. I nervously clenched my hands, biting my lip as I found myself standing before the scrutinizing gaze of the butler. Though I tried to maintain an outward air of indifference, I fought against the urge to seek refuge behind the shade once more and I found myself wishing that I had taken another shot or two of Bard's whisky-lowered inhibitions would lessen the tension of this situation. No matter what I had fantasized about being with the butler, now that I was placed in a situation where, for all intents and purposes, I was practically naked, I wanted nothing more than to take my clothes and run. Standing before him in such a manner made me feel raw and exposed, every muscle in my body taut as I stood poised like prey before its predator. I hated it. I wanted to be suave and confident, matching his finesse in a tantalizing battle for dominance and perhaps a week ago I would have done so. However, this past week had shattered any sense of normalcy and security I had gained in my months of living here-a stark reminder of how powerless I was against the powers that lurked in the shadows, waiting patiently for an opportunity to claim me once more.

"Come now," Sebastian soothed, delicately curving his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. I tensed, inhaling sharply at his touch. His eyes softened before he continued in the same low, soothing voice, "There is no reason to fear. I shall not harm you."

As the comforting words left his lips, my shoulders relaxed, my pulse slowing to return to some semblance of normal as I gazed into his strangely hued eyes, my body realizing before my mind that I believed him. A gentle smile graced his lips as he lowered his hand.

"That's a good girl. Now," he paused, gesturing to a chair on my left, "would you please take a seat?"

I hesitantly nodded before obediently stepping over to the chair, maintaining a firm grip on the bottom of the towel, as it kept trying to part wider than I wanted as I sat. I did not want that much of my upper thigh to be exposed. Sebastian followed close behind, kneeling before me after I was seated and immediately set to work, rifling through the contents of the medical box he had brought. I watched with curiosity as I noticed this box was different than the one I was accustomed to using. It was much smaller and was not filled with many vials of medicine, rather it was mostly filled with bandages and only two larger bottles that contained curious looking darkly hued spherical objects which I assumed were pills of some sort.

"I will forewarn you that this medicine requires a slightly unorthodox oral application," he said, removing the lid of the bottle with a low pop, pouring a few of the pills into his gloved hand.

I quirked my brow questioningly, wondering what he meant. A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest when I opened my mouth as he brought the pills up to my face.

"No, no," he chided amusedly, "I will apply the salve orally."

My cheeks grew warm at his explanation, "What do you mean?" I asked nervously.

"Like so," he answered, before tossing the pills into his mouth.

As he chewed them, they crunched with a painfully loud noise and I wondered to myself how he did not break some teeth in the process. Though the greater curiosity I had was how he was planning on applying the salve. No sooner had the question formed in my mind, when Sebastian carefully took my wrist in his hand, rotating my forearm so the wounded skin of my underarm faced him before leaning in and grazing his tongue along the sensitive flesh.

I gasped, my eyes widening as I jerked my arm from his grasp, about to chastise him for being so forward when I looked down at my arm. My lips parted slightly in amazement as I ghosted my fingers over my skin, which was no longer tender or inflamed, but rather appeared its normal porcelain. Even the cuts the glass had made appeared to be smaller.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked innocently, gazing up at me with a subtly challenging look that was far from innocent.

"This is incredible!" I breathed with amazement, ignoring his question, "How did you..-?" I started to ask when Sebastian interrupted.

"The key is the saliva. It activates chemicals that accelerate the healing process," he explained, an irrepressible smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I applied the same salve to assist your healing before. Why else would you have recovered so quickly?"

My fingers subconsciously moved to my thigh to where, despite the severity of the wound I received, there was no scar to mar my skin.

"Wait!" I exclaimed as the realization struck me, "You mean you…-?!"

I paused mid-thought, the heat of embarrassment rushing to my cheeks and down my neck as my mind recalled once when I had awoken in a daze to find Sebastian in the room with me, remembering the strange yet soothing sensation along all of the injured parts of my body. I squirmed internally, both embarrassed and aroused in equal parts at the thought of all the places on my body his tongue had touched.

"I promise nothing unsavory occurred," he answered, attempting unsuccessfully to muffle an amused chuckle as he tried to placate my concern.

Before I could respond, he took the same wrist in his hand, turning it towards his lips before adding, "Now that you know what to expect, should we continue?"

I bit my lip, hesitating for a moment. What excuse could I give should one of the servants walk in on us? They already thought we were lovers. My eyes trailed down to my arm, my logical train of thought reminding me that, in light of the medical benefits, such activities were worth the risk. Then, a much darker portion of my mind drew my attention to the warmth that had subtly been growing within me, whispering seductively that I should do it just for the thrill of his tongue on my body.

"Yes," I whispered, my response rushed before I snapped my mouth shut before I could change my mind.

He smirked a darkly before he drew my wrist closer to his lips, his breath fluttering over my skin, closing his eyes before trailing his tongue along my wrist and palm of my hand. My stomach tensed as I watched as he delicately traced my skin, handling me as if I were something fragile and precious. Though, I noted as one by one his tongue cupped each of my slender fingers, his tongue flicking the end of each digit as he finished, that I wanted him to handle me in a much less delicate manner.

The sensuality of this moment didn't seem to be lost on Sebastian, either, given how meticulous he was in his ministrations as he finished with my right arm and moved to tend to the left one. With each second that passed, the ache and pain from my wounds abated, replaced by the forbidden burning of desire and arousal.

I froze and gripped the arms of the chair, a pang of want issuing from the aching need between my legs, as he adjusted slightly and flicked his tongue over the gash on my left shoulder. Not allowing me time to recover, he turned his attention to my cheek. A shiver of pleasure trickled down my spine and I closed my eyes as he gripped my knees gently, rubbing comforting circles on my skin as he eased my legs apart so he could settle between them, doing so providing him easier access to my face and neck.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as the soreness from my cheek disappeared in an instant. At that noise, I felt Sebastian stiffen, his grip on my knees momentarily tightening. I relished in his reaction, pleased to know this was tempting him as much as it was me. I gripped the arms of the chair so tight my knuckles turned white as I resisted the urge to reach out and grab hold of him, though that resolve was quickly crumbling.

I stifled a groan of disappointment as he pulled away. My eyes fluttered open, my heart skipping a beat when I saw the raw intensity of desire smoldering in his eyes.

"Do you wish for me to continue?" he asked, he voice a little rough as he began speaking, though it returned to normal by the time he finished his question.

My brow furrowed in confusion at his question. In response, he reached and gingerly touched my throat, careful not to hurt me.

"The neck is a rather sensual area to be touched," he began, his gaze following the trail his fingers took along my skin, causing another shiver to go down my spine, "I wanted to ensure you were comfortable with me touching you in such an intimate manner before we proceeded."

I adjusted in my seat, surprised by the warm slickness that had collected between my legs. I briefly wondered is this was normal, as I had never experienced such a sensation before. However, any reservation was swept aside as my eyes met his, the desire that remained in his crimson pools mirroring my own.

"You would not be the first to do so," I answered, taken aback by the brief flicker of anger that appeared on Sebastian's face at that admittance, "And they were unable to move me to feeling. The experience was rather dull, actually."

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he popped a couple more pills in his mouth, crunching them quickly before leaning in, accurately taking my subtle challenge as permission.

"Oh, I believe this will be anything but dull," he purred, titling my head back as he glided his tongue from the base of my throat to my chin, following along my esophagus.

I gasped when I felt something pop, realizing when I was able to breathe normally that something must have been damaged along my airway. The relief only lasted the briefest of moments, however, for as Sebastian continued, a ravenous hunger stronger than any I had felt before took the foremost place in my mind. Each inch of skin he touched tingled with electricity. My breath became shallow and my heart thundered within my chest as he worked his way down the left side of my neck.

As he reached the base, he flicked his tongue on a particularly sensitive spot. My back arched, causing my body to press against his, my hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as the most sensual sound that I had ever uttered passed my parted lips.

"Sebastian!"

As soon as his name passed my lips, I was shoved forcefully back in the chair, Sebastian's fingers entangling in my damp hair while his other hand guided my right leg to hook behind him, his fingers causing gooseflesh to rise where they ghosted across the newly exposed skin. A low growl rumbled from his chest when he traced the back of my knee with his fingers as he moved to the right side of my neck, the sensation causing my leg to spasm, momentarily forcing his hips against mine, eliciting a soft moan from him. I gasped as a wave of pleasure washed over me, the towel beginning to slowly inch down my torso as our bodies pressed together again.

A moment later Sebastian froze and I could have sworn there was a flash of light, at least that is what it seemed like, but I couldn't be sure as my eyes had been closed. I slowly opened my eyes as Sebastian pulled away, huffing with frustration.

"Is everything all right?" I asked, my brow dipping in concern, worried it was something I had done.

"My lord is requesting my presence," he answered.

~Excerpt from Wicked Game-Chapter Thirteen: His Butler-Healing

[aleapoffaithfiction]

XVI.

"You will manage to keep a woman in love with you, only for as long as  you can keep her in love with the person she becomes when she is with  you." C. JoyBell

Rockin' around the Christmas tree, let the Christmas spirit ring. Later we'll have some pumpkin pie, and we'll do some caroling…

Naturally, my own vocals lightly meshed in with those of Brenda Lee while my head bopped back and forth to the infectious Christmas tune as it blared from the Beats Pill, I gifted to my mother a couple of months ago. To take advantage of the majority of my weight being pressed against the kitchen island, I slowly flexed my toes and extended my aches in an effort to minimize the throbbing in my feet. Short hisses turned into a deep sigh of bliss but unfortunately it was short lived once I grasped a knife in my hand again.

“Pass me two stalks of celery out of that bag, please.” My precise instructions were pointless. With her eyes intently focused on the phone in front of her, Celeste aloofly tossed the plastic bag in my direction as if I were a nuisance interrupting the ridiculous number of hours she spends interacting on Facebook. If anything, I avoid it, because once you reach a certain age, Facebook is nothing more than a scroll fest filled with engagement and pregnancy announcements, weddings and post-birth pictures, garbage hot takes from people about the most trivial of topics, and finally older relatives who have nothing better to do other than to be in everyone’s business, including yours.

“Shouldn’t you be doing something?” If she’s not going to be in the kitchen either helping me or doing something of her own, then the better choice would be for her to exit. She hasn’t been much company because we’re barely spoken since she arrived and I’d rather not be distracted by her sitting there in a trance with a phone in her hand like a mindless teen.

“Not really. You always do Christmas Eve, I do Christmas breakfast, and mommy does Christmas dinner. Don’t act brand new now.”

“I’m not acting brand new. I just see no point in you being in here.” Celeste does Christmas breakfast because it’s the easiest task to handle and I don’t have much of a problem pushing her dry ass pancakes around on a plate in anticipation for dinner later on the evening.

“For someone who claims to be so demure in the manner that you carry yourself, I’m super confused about why you have streams of diamonds glistening and circling around your neck.”

“What?” Thoughtlessly, I stretched my unoccupied hand up to the exposed skin and lightly brushed my fingers over nearly sixty carats of brilliant round cut diamonds that do not belong to me.

The manner in which O layers his many necklaces always grabs my attention and it’s something about the showiness in the midst of the simplicity of them that I continue to compliment whenever I see him donning them. This morning, for whatever reason, he randomly placed two of them around my neck as I stood in the mirror attempting to figure out just how festive my attire would be for today. Once I’d gotten past three unwarranted outfit changes, I found myself admiring the jewelry as it glimmered in the natural lighting cascading into his master bedroom beyond the curtains. I’d forgotten to remove them.

“They’re not real. It’s just costume jewelry.”

“They look pretty damn real to me.”

“Well, they’re not. There’s this new spot that opened up over on West 47th Street. I grabbed them in there. I just thought they looked cute and they reminded me of something Lil’ Kim wore one time. You know Kimberly Denise Jones is one of my spirit animals. They’re not something you wear everyday but it’s the holidays and I’m on vacation until after the New Year, so why not? I’m glad they look real though. That just means they were well made.”

“You seem to have a million alter egos. One minute you’re Florence Joyner, the next minute you’re Lil’ Kim, on another day you’re Angela Bassett, and then you’re Michelle Obama. We can’t forget you being the Oprah of sports journalism, oh and there’s Rihanna and Beyonce, who else?”

“Phylicia Rashard, Eartha Kitt, Regina King, Janet Jackson, Cari Champion, Lisa Salters, Pam Oliver, Jemele Hill. And I’ve never considered any of those women to be my alter egos. They’re women that I admire due to their drive, success, and character. I’ve taken bits and pieces from all of their careers and used them as lessons for my own. What you’ve mistaken is me saying that Lil Kim, Rihanna, and Tracee Ellis Ross are my style icons. Oh, and Mary J. Blige is my boot icon.” I think all women have a mood board of aspirations and inspirations. It doesn’t always have to be specific people. A portion of mine just so happens to contains who I believe are some of the greatest black women of the past and current generation. They’re not alter egos who I attempt to mimic but rather stories of triumph that keep me driven.

“What’s up with you and Kyle? Why are you interested?” I nearly cut into the flesh of my finger while dicing the stalks of celery. Briefly, I paused to gather myself, and immediately moved on to the three cloves of garlic.

“Nothing at all. I’m not interested so please stop pressing me about that. I’m not going to date your husband’s brother. I don’t do that all in the family stuff.”

“He’s really into you.”

“Or maybe you’re just exaggerating things. We’re just cool. We always have great conversations whenever we’re around one another and that’s good enough for me. I’ve already spoken to you multiple times about my disdain for your matchmaking bullshit. How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a fan of it?”

“You continue to hold Shamel against me. Things didn’t work out. Okay. Shit happens. That doesn’t mean that every guy that I attempt to introduce you to won’t be compatible with you.”

“Compatibility? It’s deeper than that.” Parsley and cilantro were next for the wrath of the knife in my hand. I’m going to have to med onions next. I should have just bought all of this stuff chopped already.

“What’s deeper?”

“Celeste, you don’t know shit about what I went through with Shamel. You know the shortened version of years’ worth of bullshit. You think we just had a couple of typical couple disagreements to the point of us coming to terms with the reality that we could no longer be together? I wish it were that fucking simple, so don’t sit in here on your high horse with that matchmaker shit. Focus on your man and your marriage. I’m fine.”

I internalized so much of what I went through with the man. I was never the one to take my household troubles and spread all of it in places that it didn’t need to be. Anyone with the vision could see the tension between the two of us whenever we were out and about together and if you couldn’t see it, then it was thick enough to be felt. As my career began to take off, I chose to move as a single woman, often leaving him behind whenever I was out and about at industry events whether they were sports related or not. Shamel had a tendency to spend way too much time at the open bar, tossing back shots of tequila while slyly entertaining any woman that fawned over his deep mocha presence. He’d then cause a scene if he caught any men paying even the slightest attention to mine.

Beyond the decision to mask our toxicity as best as I could, I yearned to make my mother proud by being the quintessential woman; brains, beauty, a reputable career, and a good man standing alongside me. The pride she wore on her face at Celeste’s wedding stood out beyond any and everything that went on that summer night in Brooklyn. Since my father’s death, that wedding and all of the events leading up to it sparked a liveliness in her that I hadn’t experienced in quite some time although it had absolutely nothing to do with me. I’m not sure if she was vicariously living through my sister or she was simply just thrilled to see her began her own family, but in observing her response to it all, I wanted to give that to her.

After a short lived around of sex that left tears of mental exhaustion pouring down the sides of my face as I lie under him, he whispered in my ear that he intended to make me his wife. I’ll never forget the wave of nausea that rushed over my body and sent me dashing into the bathroom to empty out of the contents within my stomach. I thought of marriage as something beautiful until then. Just the thought of spending the rest of my life in misery with him left my mind in an emotional frenzy as I attempt to figure out when and how I’d end our relationship. Less than three weeks later, I finally mustered up the courage to get it done.

“You want to be alone forever?”

“Whether I do or I don’t, it’s my decision. You may be older, but we’re not kids anymore. We’re no longer in Brooklyn, under mommy’s roof, trying to figure out what we’re going to do with ourselves. You have your life and I have mine. I have time to figure that relationship shit out. I’m not stressed about it. Being single doesn’t bother me at all. For whatever reason, it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me that you’re single. I just think you deserve happiness.”

“And you think that I don’t have it without a man? You give them way too much credit.”

And she always has. Celeste has been a serial monogamist for as long as I can remember her dating history. As soon as one relationship of hers would end, she’d be in another one within a week or two. I can recall a couple of overlaps, but that’s none of my business.

“Don’t put the whole bonnet pepper in there.”

“I know that. I’m only doing half.” The last thing I want is to give our mother heartburn on Christmas Eve.

In the midst of me pouring olive oil into the deep red pot I already had on the stove, I reached into my back pocket for my vibrating phone.

Mrs. Claus, I’m missing you. When are you coming home?

Home? To mask my budding smile, I slowly pulled my lip in-between my teeth.

Home?

This man knows how to put a smile on my face by saying the simplest things.

Anywhere I lay my head is just as much yours as it is mine.

I should have known that when he gave me keys and the security codes last night. I’m still in disbelief about that.

I should be finished here really soon and I’ll be right back at the North Pole to keep your lap warm, Santa.

It’ll be the first time I’m spending Christmas Eve anywhere other than here and to say I’m nervous would be an understatement. Usually around this time of the year, O would be in the midst of the season so his family would make the effort to come to New Jersey to be with him. Even though he’s currently not playing, they still decided to come up and enjoy the chilled weather. For the past couple of days, he’s convinced me to rid myself of my reluctance and to be with him and a few people I’ve yet to meet like his grandmother Mille, his uncle Mike, his aunt Pat, and his step-father Derek.

Naked right?

And don’t even get me started on the lie that I had to tell everyone in this house so that I’d be able to get out of our Christmas Eve tradition of my cooking and us sitting around watching our favorite Christmas classics while bundled up under quilts that we’ve had since Celeste and I were toddlers. That lie involved Taylor, who’s actually in Atlanta right now, and Scott who actually did invite me to his Christmas Eve game night over at his place.

I can make that happen. Not while the elves are awake though. That’s a bit inappropriate, Santa.

My snicker wasn’t soundless. It was loud enough to alert Celeste and her eyes slowly panned in my direction and raised in curiosity at what tickled me.

“It’s Taylor.” I said it before she could ask.

Baby, don’t be mad at me but I already cut the red velvet cake. It was just sitting there and I couldn’t help myself.

I knew he’d do it. The fume enticed him by itself, so his response to the finished product was of no surprise. I didn’t even make him promise me that he wouldn’t touch it because I knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself just as he said. It’s why I made two of them.

I knew you would. Enjoy it.  That’s why I made it.

I spent the morning baking as a part of his Christmas request. Renee’s handling everything else, but all of the sweets are my task. When I return, I’m going to make my mini eggnog cheesecakes and cookies.

Try and make it back before the snow starts. I don’t want you driving in that.

It’s not supposed to be enough snow to keep the east coast hiding inside of their homes, but it will be enough to leave traffic dragging and the roads hazardous. I’ve never been much of a fan of driving in the snow, so I do want to be out of here before those flurries began to fall.

Will do. I’ll see you in a bit love.

“I can’t believe you’re about to go and spend Christmas Eve hanging out with your co-workers. Don’t you get enough of seeing them at work?” This is her second time making commentary about this since I’ve been here and I’m not even sure why. Celeste and I barely say much of anything to one another whenever I’m around, unless she’s scolding me about some area of my life that she assumes that I need to improve. It’ll be no different tonight as they’re all curled up in the living room watching classic holiday films while enjoying the dinner that I’m preparing and a shit ton of junk food we bought at Walmart the other day. Besides, her husband is here and when he’s with her, nearly all of her attention is on him.

“What’s the big deal? We’re not kids waiting around on Santa anymore. There are no babies here in the house that we need to be extra festive for. I’ll be back in the morning for breakfast and then we’ll all open up the presents together like we usually do. You won’t even notice that I’m gone.” Maybe my mother will, but she certainly won’t. Whenever her husband’s around, her attention remains solely focused on him. She parades herself on being a so-called traditionalist as a wife; whatever that means. Either way, her head is up his ass and luckily for her, his is just as far up hers.

“What time are you getting here in the morning? I figure I’ll at least be considerate enough to start making breakfast around them so by the time you’re here, you won’t have to eat cold food.”

“Most likely around nine or a half hour after it. It won’t be much later than that.”

“That’s if you’re not hungover, huh?”

“I won’t be. I have no plans to drink, unless it’s like a half glass of some spiked egg nog. Can’t go to a Christmas function and not have some egg nog. I’m driving, so it won’t be much.” I’m not irresponsible with my life and in addition to that, if O smells the alcohol on my breath, he’ll be scolding me all night long for having the audacity to drink and drive.

“Okay.” I never thought she’d leave the kitchen. She’s been in here since my arrival and comfortably settled at a spot in front of the island, while watching my every move. Initially, I thought she was doing it simply to be a critic of whatever I intended to prepare in the kitchen, but now I know she sat there as a mean to try and find her way into my business as she always seems to do. I’ve never been interested in what she has going on with Preston since she met the man. Even when we all went out to dinner a few years back and she first introduced him to both my mother and I, I didn’t have much of anything to say. All I could make of their connection was that she was obsessed with everything about him and luckily for her, he was smitten enough to feel the same way about her. She needed a man who could and world be a bit of a pushover for her and he is exactly that.

My father’s beloved stewed chicken or as he called it, poulet creole, was a breeze to prepare because I’m the only one in our home who learned every single aspect of that recipe directly from him. On a random summer day, while my mom and Celeste were out at the hair salon getting curls put into their hair for Sunday service, he interrupted me from watching ESPN, and called me into the kitchen for yet another one of his many lessons. The manner in which he taught me wasn’t by me looking on at his every task but instead me doing all of the work while he closely directed so I’d my hands would familiarize themselves with the process as he claimed. It was the same method that his grandmother taught him to cook with.

I preferred learning to cook under his guidance far more than my mother’s because she’s like a drill sergeant in the kitchen; barking down on her subject for any mistake or mishap with her directions. He and I laughed, danced to whatever he chose to play in the radio, and compared and contrasted our opinions on any topic we could think of. I will always hold him in the highest regard for allowing my self-expression to flourish. As a West Indian father of two girls, he could have easily chosen the overprotective and absurdly sexist route in raising us, but he didn’t. Rather than doing his best attempt to blind me from life beyond the doors of our home, he chose to listen to my perspective and then teach me about what life has to offer whether good or bad; easy, moderate, or difficult.

I miss him. Actually, that’s an understatement. During the holiday season, that pain that lies dormant within my soul flares up into an intensity that I have to stoically mask for the sake of getting through. As much as he emphasized the need to prepare both Celeste and I for the day that he was no longer with us, none of us ever expected it to be as soon as it was. I want to be the strong and independent woman that he raised me to be, but in some ways, I still need him. My mother needs him because she hasn’t been quite right ever since. Celeste needs him just as much, because there’s a part of her that has always sought him out in the men that she chose to allow into her life since his death.

“Celeste, I’m heading out.”

“Nice coat and hat.”

The caramel wool cashmere single-breasted silhouette was an unexpected gift from Kobe before we went on break for the holiday. Everything about the hand-embroidered embellishments and the manner in which it loosely accentuated my frame instantly made me fall in love with it with the Burberry piece. He encouraged me to open it up while we were standing there in my dressing room so I’d be able to see if I liked it, but I voiced that it wouldn’t be right to open it before Christmas. My curiosity nipped at me all morning long until I fed into its urge by opening it up and like a kid whenever they’re given anything new, I had to wear it immediately. The matching beanie hat is the cherry on top. Before I’m off to bed tonight, I intend to thank him again.

“Thanks. It’s my Christmas gift from Bean.”

“Who?”

“Kobe.”

“So, you’re going to be here around nine, right? You better not be late because I’m not defending you when mommy snaps.”

“Yes. I’ll be here. When she gets in from church, tell her to call me if she needs me.” I still can’t believe she went to Christmas Eve service. Actually, I’m quite surprised that she didn’t pressure Celeste and I into attending.

“Will do. Enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you. Merry Christmas Eve.” Unexpectedly for her, I leaned in and planted a soft peck on her cheek. We’ve never been the type of sisters who shower one another with a lot of love whether it be physical or verbal, but on there are those random occasions when I do show or tell her how much I love her. I’d like to think in all the ways I help her or come running when she needs me, it’s a reflection of what I feel just as much.

“Merry Christmas Eve. Have fun.”

“Will do. You too. Since mom isn’t here, maybe you and Preston can get a little practice in on that baby that you want.” With a slight scoff, her eyebrows raised.

“Since when are you on the wild side?”

“I’m reserved, not virginal. See you in the morning.”

A gust a wind slithered through the open space as soon as I opened the door to step outside and very faint sprinkles of snow filled the air as they lightly cascaded down to meet my frame. I thought I would have been out of here before it all started but the beauty of it ceased any complaints that I usually would have if it weren’t Christmas Eve. If anything, the snow makes the spirit of tonight even more fulfilling. I don’t have to dream of a white Christmas because it seems like the city is being gifted with one this year. “Happy Holidays stranger.” I didn’t see his car parked across the street nor had I noticed him jogging across the street after locking the doors behind himself and yet here he is, stepping up onto the sidewalk and inching closer to the steps of my mother’s porch to trigger a slight downward spiral of my mood with his presence alone. I don’t know what it is with Quinton and his purposeful choice to remain all in the family despite my resistance towards whatever he and my mother thought they had planned for my love life. Initially, I believed he genuinely viewed us as an extension of his own family and supporters in the neighborhood who he knew he could count on, but now, I’m not sure what the fuck this is or where he’s going with it. “Happy Holidays.” “How have you been?” “Well. You?” I was better just a minute ago. “I’m well enough.” “What brings you around? The holiday? You seem to always show up around here whenever there’s one.” In his hand, he held a gift bag that I’m going to assume is for my mother. It’s not that I mind that he buys her gifts, because deep down, I don’t. I’m mostly concerned with what they mean. “I don’t just show up here on holidays. I come over and check on your mom from time to time. You know I love Mrs. Nazaire.” My scoff was loud and clear. Any time we speak now, he sounds like nothing more than a fame hungry politician, who uses manipulation tactics to garner allies and supporters. I’m sure his antics are no different with my mother. It’s why she holds him in such high regard no matter how much I don’t give a fuck. “Yeah? It’s starting to feel like you’re screwing my mother. I’m not looking for any step-dads within our age range. Sniff around women your own age Quinton.” The sarcasm flowed from my mouth and into his ears; leaving a flustered expression on his face that quickly transitioned into one of annoyance. “I’m not. I’ve only been to bed with one Nazaire woman.” “I’m glad you used the past tense. I barely remember that one and done situation; but I’m glad that you do. She’s not here, but Celeste and her husband are. You’re more than welcome to wait for her and I’m sure that you will.” “I don’t know what it is that Shamel did to you, but you’re so bitter now. Not all men are hood gym owners who fucked you over repeatedly while dipping into women who bought memberships to be trained in doggystyle position rather than on treadmills. All I wanted to do was be a good man to you, but you’re coming at my head as if I’m your enemy.” He said all of that and yet I’m the bitter one? If anyone asked me anything about this man’s personal life, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything aside from what I know from the days when we’d actually hangout with one another. I haven’t kept up with much about his life story since then and I’d prefer not to know now. That’s the difference between he and I; he remains invested in what doesn’t concern him while I can’t seem to find a reason or the time to concern myself with what he wishes I would concern myself with. “I’m growing a bit confused about who has the pussy between the two of us. Only bored and lonely women concern themselves with what was or wasn’t going on in another woman’s relationship. Damn, you were more invested in what Shamel was doing with his time than I was. I’m bitter because I don’t want to play your political trophy wife or are you bitter because despite my firm no, you’re still sniffing around here and chasing me? Find your dignity Quinton. Don’t go out like a wack bitch, aight?” “I hope you don’t go out like one either. Make sure you keep it classy by not fucking with all of those athletes that you’re constantly around. How many have you been with thus far?” “All of them.” I’m usually not the type to laugh at my own jokes but I couldn’t help but to chuckle at his facial expression. I’ve been slut shammed more times than I can count. It happens every day when random people hiding behind social media accounts on apps decide to accuse me of using my body in order to keep my job, so Quinton doing it isn’t offending me any more than it does when strangers are doing it. Initially, I used to be extremely irritated by it but I’ve come to terms with the reality that people are going to say and assume whatever they want no matter what I do or feel about it. No matter who I do or don’t have in my bed, my bills are paid. “Excuse me. I have some place to be.”

Stepping around him wasn’t the problem; it was the oddness of him standing there and watching me slip into my car. Like a lost puppy, he trudged up the stairs to the house door and continued to burn a hole into my foggy windows with a scowl on his face that I couldn’t see but I’m sure is there. Maybe one day he’ll get it or maybe he won’t, either way, I’m not responsible for what he feels. I’ve been clear with all intentions and lack their off.

No matter how much snowfall happens in the northeast year after year, as soon as flakes of any size begins to fall out of the sky, the snail-paced traffic is an immediate effect and it drives me insane. It’s one of the primary reasons why I was in no rush to get a new car and am currently wishing I had a driver taking me to my destination. Not even the holiday tunes that I love so much are distracting me from wanting to roll my window down and shout at the drivers in front of me who are missing green lights and evoking slight amounts of fear within me with their skidding. What would usually be a forty-five-minute commute turned into nearly an hour and a half.

The relief that washed over me at the sight of the double entry driveway was well received as I slowly inched my way in and focused in on the three bodies standing in the driveway. I reached out to him just a few minutes ago to notify him that I’d need help getting bags out of the backseat of the car, so we wouldn’t have to make multiple trips in the brisk weather. Unlike the other males standing alongside him, the handsome one who belongs to me was hilariously covered in an oversized Santa coat with a black hood covering his blonde mane.

“The traffic was so stupid as I was on my way to the Lincoln Tunnel. I will never understand how people who have been living on the East Coast since forever still fear the damn snow. It’s not even snowing that hard.” My right hand latched onto his and he carefully pulled me out of the driver’s seat and into his awaiting arms. My complaint went into one ear and right out of the other as he endearingly snuggled my frame as close to his as possible while nuzzling his chilled face into the nape of my neck. Admittedly, I needed to feel him in this exact manner for the restoration of the joy that this night is supposed to be and bring.

“And don’t even get me started on this ass wipe in this big ass Navigator who kept slightly skidding. I was caught in between being worried for my damn life and wanting to kick his ass for driving so stupidly. Oh and…” His peck was sweet; subtle and yet enough to leave me yearning for so much more.

“Give me your keys.” To oblige his request, I dropped them into his hand and turned to both Kordell and Derek who were looking on and most likely extremely bored with my rant.

“Hi guys.”

“You finally made it. This guy was about five minutes away from hopping into his Rolls Royce and driving all the way to Brooklyn for you.” I’ve only met his step-father Derek once and in my quick assessment of him I understood that he was more of a reserve man who somehow had a humorous side to him that couldn’t be ignored. He can crack a joke and it usually comes at the right time.

“I told him I was coming. I would have been here if it weren’t for the traffic.”

“And he wanted me to get in the car and go with his lame ass.” After a shared hug with Derek, I threw my arms around Kordell and pecked his forehead despite his maneuvers to avoid it. He’s not exactly the most physically affectionate person so I purposefully shower him with some of my own to worsen whatever annoyance his oldest brother sent his way.

“You weren’t going to come looking for me with your brother? I thought you and I are good friends now?”

“We’re family or whatever, but you and bro are old. I have a lot more life to live. I wasn’t about to catch hypothermia messing with the two of you.”

“It’s not even that bad out here. You haven’t seen a real blizzard yet Louisiana boy.” His dramatics earned a light mush to his head. I’d love to see how he reacts to a couple of feet of snow covering the ground and maybe even a power outage to go with it. Now that’s hell.

“Sarai, what is all of this?” The bewildered expression on his face and him using my first name evoked me to widen my eyes in a confusion about what I could possibly be in trouble about. I don’t believe there’s anything incriminating in my trunk and if there is, I didn’t place it there.

“Gifts.”

“All of this?” Like a nagging elderly man who borders between obnoxiously cheap and being frugal with his money, he extended his arm towards the overflowing trunk and placed his idly hand on his hip to await an explanation that he’s not going to receive.

“What? I told you that I was coming with gifts. Don’t be ridiculous. Just grab them. Oh, and don’t forget the ones in the backseat. I’m going inside. It’s cold.”

“This is crazy. You went overboard.”

“I know you’re not talking about overboard. There’s a Rolls Royce parked right over there. I can start there and keep on going for hours. You really want to do this right now?” If there’s anything I’m ever ready for; it’s to prove somebody wrong. Debating is an essential part of my profession as an analyst and I haven’t lost a debate yet if you let me tell it, so I can and will give him an extensive five minutes of dialog about his spending habits and how he is by far one of the biggest spenders that I know. This man doesn’t even use his washer and dryer. He dry cleans every damn thing and never wears the same underwear, socks, or t-shirts twice.

“Nah, baby, you got it.” Without any further questions or concerns, he extended his arms into the trunk and began to retrieve a few of the many bags that they all needed to bring inside.

“Wow. You know how things go in arguments. Good job, man.”

While on my way to the warmth, my laughter at Derek’s commentary was loud enough for me to hear it but low enough so that the man of my affection couldn’t make it out. Sometimes it’s just best to keep quiet about the reality that your man is willing to put himself aside to please you and, in this case, it was his mouth.

“Sarai!”

Sometimes I’m stunned by my sincere acceptance into his family dynamic. We’re anything but traditional and we’re navigating in a manner that I’m sure they don’t understand because we certainly don’t. Aside from my overwhelming emotional affection towards the man who belongs to them more than he does to me, they’ve been unknowingly responsible for making me feel like I deserve the joy that I feel when I’m with him and around them. In my transition from hugs with Heather, Jazzy, and those who I’ve been led around the first level of the house to meet, I haven’t been able to ease away the smile gracing my face.

“Your outfit and pajamas are upstairs in the room.” I know pasta when I smell it. The fumes coming from the kitchen appealed to my senses quickly and left my stomach turning in knots for nourishment.

“Outfit?”

“Wait until you see what your guy bought for you.” Her amusement was my fear. I tend to like to make him the butt of a couple of my jokes, but I don’t want to be the one on the other end of his tonight.

“Is it a onesie?”

“No.” Suddenly I wish this glass of egg nog were spiked.

“I’m going to head up and see it. If it’s a disaster I’m pulling the feminist card and blaming the both of you because we’re supposed to be united against these men.” I waggled my finger back and forth to point out the mother and daughter duo who found my apprehension to be amusing and began slowly inch my way up the spiraling staircase that leads to the upper level of the house. Though I could hear his voice loud and clear from the foyer, O hadn’t brought my personal belongings upstairs and I’m already up here so that’s out. With that in mind, it seems even more logical to take him up on his offer of my own closet space so that I no longer need to keep trekking overnight backs to and from here.

A blend of the Italian bergamot and clay sage from his beloved cologne meshed in blissfully with the gingerbread scent that I know he purposefully misted into the room just for me. Since December came in, he frequently made note of how my home smelled like cookies whenever he came over and accused me of trying to toy with his already slightly ridiculous appetite for junk food, especially candy. Despite my love for Bath and Body Works and Yankee Candle’s holiday scents, he deemed them to be exceedingly sweet and overdone. Now look at him.

Flutters filled my core at the sight of his master suite’s fireplace being utilized for the first time ever. Unlike my obsession with them, it’s a feature within the house that he hasn’t concerned himself with since moving in. There’s something about the way the flames are curling and oscillating, flickering like gleaming lights, and cascading hues of scarlet onto the wall that naturally warms the space.

“Your stuff is on the bed.” I knew he was in the doorway. The chills trickling onto the back of my neck spoke before he did.

“You put the fireplace on.”

“I figured you’d like it. Thank God it’s electric. I’m no fireplace expert.” As his feet trudged against the wooden flooring, he dropped my monogram Louis Vuitton Keepall Bandoulière duffle bag near the entry way of his closet.

“It’s beautiful.” If it were just us, I’d curl up on the floor in front of it with a good playlist going.

As soon as my Ugg boots were kicked aside, I inched closer to the bed and alongside three bags, was a Snoopy and Woodstock perfectly wrapped present that I certainly wasn’t expecting to see. My curiously instantly peaked but in a swift second, I checked myself for discarding the waiting rule I’ve grown up with. Celeste and I weren’t even able to open one gift at midnight on Christmas Eve.

“You forgot to put that under the tree?” Instead, I reached for the crimson red gift bag and snickered as soon as my hand silky velvet material that is identical to the kind covering his frame. My Mrs. Claus coat was that of something I’d be waiting for Santa in the bedroom in rather than keeping an eye on the elves. It’s lace-up front called for a good cleavage while the pure white faux fur trimming and flared skirted bottom were more along the lines of tradition until anyone notices the split open front. What exactly is supposed to go under this?

“No, that’s for you to open now. You probably thought I was playing when I mentioned it before but I really am impatient on Christmas Eve. I like to open presents the night before and just sleep on Christmas morning. Since it’s our first one together, I figured I’d be fair to your traditions and my own. So, we can open some tonight and then open the first in the morning. Fair?” Like an eager child hoping to get his way, his narrowed eyes slightly widened with hopes that I’d agree to what he calls fair. I don’t see what the big deal is. It all has to be opened either way.

“Fair.”

“So open that.”

Lazily, my body flopped down onto the plushness of the bed and I grabbed the box with a bit of shaking to increase his growing anticipation. The contents inside only slighting moved, throwing off just about all of my potential guesses for what it may be. My first donned a smirk as I commenced with tearing through the wrapping paper to uncover the infamous Christian Louboutin box under it. Shoes? Infinite brownie points already. Much like himself, I adore footwear. I stand by the law that a shoe can make or break a look more than any other article of clothing.

“You didn’t.” Instantaneously, thoughts of a random conversation I was having with Taylor came to mind. Christian Louboutin collaborated with Indian Couture Designer Sabyasachi Mukherjee on an extremely limited-edition collection featuring hand-embroidered sari fabrics and jaw dropping embellishments that left me in awe upon the sight of it online. Every piece of material used to craft the shoes were taken from Sabyasachi’s private archive, leaving only a few pairs of each design to be created.

“Didn’t what?” His confusion was intentional. The grin called his bluff. The lid to the box went flying behind me in an instant and in dramatic fashion, I dropped back onto the bed in astonishment and bliss at the sight of the exquisite thigh high boots that I fell in love with. Their golden delicate leather straps were specially designed harness and highlight the leg. On top of it, they’re made to measure.

“Is this real life?”

“I feel pretty alive, what about you?”

“How the hell did you get these? I called everywhere. No, literally. I e-mailed fucking Hong Kong for them. Supposedly only like six pairs were made.” “Those have been in my closet since October.” The nonchalance in his tone evoked a moisture lightly seep into the seat of the lace under my jeans. I don’t know whether to jump on the bed in joy or discard everything covering my frame allow him to twist and flip me into any position of his liking. Maybe both? Both can certainly be done.

“Come and give me a hug please.” With the box now resting alongside me, I opened my arms and awaited his presence. Like a weighted blanket, a wave of tranquility washed over me at the mass of his body now being closely hard-pressed against mine. My fingers found their way into the platinum blonde curls and few loose dreads dangling from his scalp and our lips met for a kiss that I’d been yearning for since I opened my eyes this morning. The sweetness of his supple lips intoxicated me far more than anything alcoholic ever could and the way his length fingers dug into the skin of my hips nearly blurred the actuality that we’re not home alone.

“I love them so much. Thank you, handsome.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Get up so that I can get one of yours from downstairs.”

“I can wait until after you’re dressed.”

“No, I insist. Let me get it.”

“Another kiss first?”

Without hesitation, I once again pressed my lips into his own for a deep peck and moved in a fluidity with his body as we eased off of the bed. I made it downstairs and back up, with a promise that I’d hurry up and change so the festivities could really begin. I need a quick shower first before I do anything else.

“I hope that you like it. I saw it and you instantly came to mind.”

“Can I just warn you that I didn’t wrap all of your gifts. The only reason why your boots were wrapped is because the boutique did it for me.”

“It’s fine. I don’t care about all of that.” The last thing I expected him to do is be frustrating himself with wrapping paper. His patience would never be able to handle it. For some odd reason, I enjoy doing it. I’ve been the designated gift wrapper in my family for years.

Though it may seem childish to some, I wrapped everything I bought him in Dr. Seuss’ “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” wrapping paper that I randomly spotted and happily picked up from a Hallmark store in Rutherford, New Jersey. Since he deemed it to be his favorite holiday classic, I imagined it would be festive to bring an element of it into the fun.

With my phone in hand, I snapped a photo of him as he tore through it to reveal the Louis Vuitton box, I knew it to be. Within seconds, its lid was on the floor and he drew away the protective paper to reveal the tan cowhide and calf leather “Christopher Backpack” backpack I bought for him. Unlike his ridiculously vibrant Supreme bags, I fell in love with the timeless style of the backpack and the classic solidness of its color. It’s a perfect choice for those game days when he’s more dressed up than down and needs something that’s subtle while still somehow being a statement piece.

“Damn, this is clean. This is perfect for when we’re traveling because they usually want us a little more dressed up.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Yeah, I love this baby. I don’t know about waiting until next season to wear it though. I’ll have this on within a couple of days. Watch.”

Knowing him, he will. If it’s new, he’s in it shortly after receiving it. I don’t know him to be that person who saves things for later. Why should he when he’s constantly either buying or receiving things?

“I’m going to take a short shower. It’ll be quick.”

“You already smell good. What you need a shower for?”

“I was cooking. I can smell it on me. It’ll be quick. Ten minutes.”

“Your showers are never ten minutes.”

“This one will be. I assure you.”

The fib didn’t go without being grumbled about when that ten-minute duration I assured him up turned into an additional ten simply because of the feel of the warm water cascading over my skin left me in damn near a state of slumber as I stood there. My lotion lathering came with assistance and so did pulling up the opaque plaid patterned tights over my thighs. By the way of their fit, they were clearly sewn together to cater to an extremely slender woman’s shape but by the grace of God and my man’s hands they were up and over my ass without a snag or hole in sight.

“I really can’t believe you bought all of this.” We look like we work in the middle of a mall. Instead of having crying babies sitting up on his lap for photographs, he’d have lusty women beating one another to a bloody pulp for daring to cut the line to ruin their chances of sitting upon his lap and asking for his genitalia while I’d be called Santa’s Slore.

“Let’s go outside.”

Intricate patterns of the weightless ice floated downward from the darkened sky. Each flake whirled and twirled as a faint wind blustered them in our direction. Much like the silly man alongside myself randomly dancing for his personal media guy’s camera, I joyfully tracked footsteps into the barely there bed of snow covering the grounds of his driveway and took satisfaction in the sound of it squishing under my boots. I’m no longer camera shy, but being on one with him has awoken what used to be a part of me. I already knew that George would be documenting all of this just as he does for a lot of milestones and random moments of his life, but what happens if I’m no longer what he wants and he randomly comes across this Christmas video and the pictures to go with it one day? How awkward would that be?

“Hey, look.”

“Huh?” Though he only spoke two words, the thick cloud of breath still lingered as I faced him. In following his eyes as they slowly panned up, mine met the mistletoe idly hanging on the door with the red bows that were already there.

“That was not there when I got here.” I saw the bows, but the mistletoe? No. Laughter spilled from our lips at what I knew to be true. I’m slightly fatigued, but I can remember what I did and did not see.

“It was.”

“It was not.”

“Come and kiss me so that we can go inside, open up more stuff, and play cards with grandma.”

“That tone. I like it.” I’m alright with a man taking charge every now and then.

“Come here.”

The frost of the winter air was of no match to the warmth radiating from our bodies and serving as a shield around our affection. I’d often fantasize about moments like this; having a companion to comfortably, and most of all safely, bare my all to without any guards or painful baggage weighing me down. I believed the advice of allowing it to come to me was standard and cliché, but I undoubtedly understand it now. It’s when you least expect it that the unexpected happens in the best way possible. I ruled him out of my life as soon as we had that initial conversation and yet the universe continued to cross our paths, naturally coercing me to allow him in. In the midst of all of my fears from the past and present, I want only him.

“Okay, let’s go. I want to see everything that you got me.”

“You can’t open everything tonight. That’s breaking our deal.”

“Huh?” I trailed behind him as he dashed back into the house and towards the living room.

“You heard me!”

I chose the kitchen counter top as my designated seat for what turned into the most chaotic gift giving presentation. Like a hood Santa Claus, all I could pay attention to was my man and his slightly sagging plaid pants zipping through his home pulling out gifts from seemingly everywhere. They jokingly talked about how much of a grinch he was last Christmas but he’s certainly redeeming himself this year.

I can’t remember the last time I thoughtlessly splurged on luxury designer goods but I don’t need to do so any time soon because he covered that and then some. Being overwhelmed was an understatement. Chanel, Versace, Bottega Veneta, Balenciaga, Saint Laurent, Fendi. I lost track of the rest and the process of just how I’m going to be able to organize all of it in my closet.

In watching him, it’s so easy to understand human purpose. In the midst of being here to seek fulfillment within our own purpose, we’re just as much here to look after our loved ones and even those who aren’t. Fortunately, he’s been blessed to have more and because of it, he spreads not only his love but also the benefits of his wealth among them. There’s a pride within it that has been radiating from him for over an hour now. I too, can relate. I’ve been given just as many hugs and kisses of thanks that he’s been given and I expect that it’ll continue when I am with my own family in the morning.

“Draw 4, blondie.” What he thought was going to be a swift Uno out moment turned into him having fifteen cards in his hand and a scowl on his face that is hysterical. He’d beaten me to the point of embarrassment at Spades because I’ve never been that great at it despite the many times my dad taught me how to play, so I had to somehow coerce him into playing something that I could play by pretending that I didn’t know how to.

“You know what, I’m going downstairs to whoop Kordell in some hoops because you’re cheating.” A snicker slipped past my lips at the playfully aggravated scowl on his face as he used his body’s strength to push his chair away from the round table. In a manner to taunt him, I held out my hands before me and wiggled my fingers to signify my lack of cards and the reality that I’d just won yet another game of UNO. My man being a sore loser isn’t something that he’s modest about. I and many others have known that about him for quite some time.

“Don’t be mad.”

“You’re cheating. You keep making up imaginary rules that don’t exist.”

“Seriously? The directions are in the box. Look at them or look them up on Google. It’s not my fault that you don’t know them all. You just suck.”

“I suck?” The amused expression on Mille’s face tickled all of us as she glanced back and forth, to take in every shit talking word as they left the both of our mouths. She’d been quietly observing the two of us since we joined both she and Jasmyne at the table for a round of card games.

Initially, I thought I’d been intruding on her time with her grandchildren, but the sly smirks and eventual huge smiles gracing her angelic face swarmed me with a warmness that I needed to further soothe me into a comfort zone around those who I do not know well just yet. Every couple of minutes or so, she’d give me either a gracious caress to the hand as a sign of her welcoming or a pat of encouragement to continue beating her oldest grandchild at Uno. I’m going to accredit that to the feminism within her.

“If the shoe fits, babe.”

“I’m going to remember that baby. The mental note is made.” He used his index finger to tap his forehead as I wordlessly ogled over his exterior.

If anyone looked at his attire, it wouldn’t be deemed as anything impressive; a black Supreme sweatshirt and a pair of black loose shorts to keep him much cooler than all of that velvet he had on. Simple. Why my eyes are continuing to embarrassingly bulge out of their sockets every time they land on him is beyond my comprehension. I’ve never seen anyone’s facial structure be as chiseled to perfection as his is. The silhouette of his jawbone is completely shielded by the blackness of his thick beard and yet just the hint of it sends unwavering shivers down my spine.

The glimmer in his faintly slanted and ever so narrowed eyes illuminates any room when that priceless smile arises on his face and every aspect of myself begins to figuratively melt into liquid form; between my thighs is the worst of it. In the midst of his sleep, I love to plant soft pecks down the finely lined bridge of his nose until my lips are gently pressed into the suppleness of his own. I’m addicted. I lose all sense of who I am whenever his warm tongue meets mine.

Handsome is an understatement; it isn’t enough to compare. He is beauty personified. I don’t believe there is another man in sports entertainment who has left me gasping for just a slight breath of air upon my every sight of him. It never gets old. I don’t believe it ever will.

Sometimes I have to wonder if he’s truly mine or if the universe is playing some type of sick joke on me.

“I don’t mind you remembering that.” Whatever payback he has for that may come with pleasure that I am more than willing to accept.

“Alright.” The sly smirk tugging on his lips was enough to leave me on the borderline of tickled and embarrassed as soon as he leaned over to plant a knowing and warning kiss on my lips. Despite the presence of his younger siblings and the elders within his family, he didn’t harbor not even an ounce of regard or bashfulness when it came to his need to have his hands touching some part of my body or any other display of affection, he bestowed upon me at random moments. His actions remained consistent with all that he does when we’re alone; barely any discretion involved.

“I’m not sure if my stomach is churning because of you two or because I want some cake, but I’m going to get some cake anyway. Y’all want anything?”

“You just mad.” And just like that, her brother’s large palms were lightly meshing into the side of her head for a playful mush and she instantly pushed him out of her way.

“I’m just fine with my egg nog.” Mille opted to keep hers virgin along with the other underage beings around. The rest of us had just a teaser of rum to give it a subtle kick.

“Me too. I’m fine.” I stepped on the scale a couple of days ago and I’ve gained five pounds. Between the man in my life constantly feeding me and the holidays, I’ve been overindulging on just about everything that’s offered to me. I need to get my life together.

With yet another shove to her brother’s side, Jasmyne darted away from the table with him hot on her trail with jokes about the size of her head which is no different from his own, but I’ll leave him be. They left the matriarch of their family and I at the table with decks of cards and a “Snow Place Like Home” five-hundred-piece jigsaw puzzle that she’s beginning to open so that we can attempt to put it all together before we’re off to bed. The peacefulness on her face evoked a solace within me that I’ve been seeking since this day began. My internal mourning subsided for the meantime as I observed her joy in being surrounded by family and most of all, because they’re all doing quite well in all aspects.

“My daughter went from telling me that you have my grandson’s nose wide open to telling me that he’s completely lost into your world and I couldn’t believe it. Odell would always laugh me off when I asked him about girls or women and he’d tell me that myself, Heather, and Jasmyne are the only ladies of value and importance in his life. From the way he’s been floating around here since your arrival and the way he looks at you, there’s officially a fourth.” My mouth moved to speak but the words remained stuck in the pit of my throat as her ash white eyebrows arose in a satisfaction at the believed accuracy of her all too knowing spirit.

“You don’t have to be modest. He’s not sitting next to you anymore.” Immediately, giggles spilled from her rosy lips prompting my shoulders to sink in a relief that I’m not sure why I needed.

“I’m not being modest. I just don’t know what to say. It feels like a lot of this is unfamiliar territory for me but at the same time, it evokes the shy and bashful side of me.” She’s been making little comments since we were introduced. I guess they were all leading up to this moment.

“That’s a good thing dear; a great thing. I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since his momma showed me a video of him working out with his physical therapists and trainers. You’ve built him back up. She gives you most of the credit for that.”

“I wouldn’t give myself any credit. His determination did it. You can’t keep someone with his determination down and he certainly wasn’t going to do it to himself.”

“Determination goes a long way, but often time, there has to be something or someone to ignite the fire behind that determination and that has been you. You cared for him, physically and most of all mentally, during what he calls one of the most disappointing and darkest times of his life thus far. So, don’t sell yourself cheaply because he talks about you like you’re priceless.”

“I believe in everyone having a person; that person that they can go to for laughter and good times or to lean on for a cry session. Whether it’s a close relative or a friend, you just need that person. I wanted to be that person for him because I know what it’s like to not have that person. He didn’t need pity. He needed encouragement that the injury is just a small part of his journey and most of all, he just needed someone to simply be there. That’s what you do for someone you lo-“

My tongue pressed against the backs of my top front teeth as I halted an admission that I’ve been withholding for a short while and coming to grips with on my own. I’ve been overly analyzing what that means for myself and how to navigate it going forward because it’s never felt quite like this before. As with all that I’ve been sharing with him, it’s new and I’ve jumped off of a cliff and into a pit of fear that I’m doing my best not to drown in.

Acceptance needed to come first and now that it has, I’ve been in a wonderment of whether or not those feelings are reciprocated on his end and how I’m going to handle my ever-going emotions if they are not. I cannot berate him for what he may not feel nor can I resent him for not sparing my feelings with lies if he does admit that I am in this alone.

I want to do nothing more than protect him. It’s almost odd because I’ve felt compelled to do that prior to even knowing him. Every attack and biased commentary that came his way felt like a personal attack on the character of a man who the world refused to understand. Now that I’ve experienced him in ways that are far beyond what were in my imagination at that time, I stand firm in what I knew all along. He’s not perfect and yet his imperfections are too what I love about him. He’s the embodiment of a security in his personhood and masculinity that I am irrevocably attached to.

“You could have finished that. Words are powerful but so are body language and actions. Yours have said it all. You know, I used to call you the young lady on TV that he likes so much, but now I call you the young lady on TV that he loves so much.”

Faint tingling nipped at the nape of my neck and the lined crevice of my back as certain aspects of her statement entered my ear like a vibrating echo; hypothetically repeating themselves for an emphasis to my thoughts. The last man I remember genuinely loving me laid down with my mom to create me. Shamel did not love me; I was something to do.

He rarely ever used the word and when he did, it was to emphasize something that he loved for me to do for him. In poor judgement and a lack of character, I accepted that because I was too emotionally exhausted to be combative with him or myself about it. Eventually, I didn’t even want him to love me. There didn’t need to be anything that kept us attached beyond an ignorant familiarity that I clung to for far too long.

“You really think so?”

“I know so dear.”

In an effort to help her, I reached my arms out and used my hands to spread out the many pieces all over the table so that we could begin a strategy to get it done. It’s been quite some time since I’ve done one of these and I’m not even sure my tired body can concentrate enough but I’m willing to try.

“Merry Christmas.” Yet again, the scent of his Sean Jean cologne slithered up my nose as the heat radiating from his body left me leaning back against my seat, relishing in it. His long arms extended over and he placed a navy-blue box down on the table directly in front of me. Upon my eyes landing on it, the all too famous Harry Winston initials were engraved in a bold gold on its surface.

“What’s this?” Along with him, Mille, and myself being in the room, there was also George who was continuing to document every aspect of this holiday celebration.

“Just a little something for my Brooklyn girl to rock with her Timbs.”

“Shut up!” Our regional teasing never ends. He tends edge me out with the Brooklyn jokes because I don’t know how many other ways, I can talk about how country he is. Technically speaking, he’s not even as country as some of the other athletes that I’ve spoken with over the last couple of years. Even his accent, that nearly melted me out of my heels the night we first conversed with one another, isn’t heavily ingrained with that Louisiana flare.

“Open it.” Without any bickering or hesitation, I slowly pulled up the lid on the box to reveal a pair of hoop earrings that instantly left me in a state of breathlessness. The emerald and round cut stones circled their platinum setting with a glimmer that one could not ignore. Every aspect of their make oozed a meticulousness to his taste and Mr. Winston’s talent. Any figure of price that came to mind could not match up with what sat before me and I know better than to ask him for specifics. I can admit to being a gold hoop wearing girl while I was back in high school, but I never imagined myself having a pair quite like this.

“Oh my God.” Circling my fingers over their surfaces solidified the reality of them now being within my possession and his supple lips pressing against my forehead widened the smile I was already donning.

“You like them? They seemed like they were very you when I saw them. Hoops for when you rock those buns in your hair.” Whether it’s a well done or sloppy bun, he always compliments how “cute” it is on me and he takes it a step further by enjoying the open access to my neck while my hair is out of the way.

“I love them. Thank you, babe. Thank you so much, they’re beautiful.” Just as I’ve done with every gift he’s given me thus far, I leapt out of the chair and threw my arms around his body in a physical showering of the love that I have for him. It’s beyond the gifts but rather the reality of him thinking of me and being so intuitive with what I desire and need that has taken his endless gift giving over the edge tonight.

“George did you get that? Now that’s a picture-perfect moment.” Mille’s face glowed in pleasure at the sight of us. I wonder if we’re reminiscent of those old black and white films that I secretly love so much. I hope so, but just in color. Everything about us is vibrant.

“I have it all Mama Millz.”

“I’ll be back.” I couldn’t take another moment of being in that unbearably warm coat or the tights.

I did change. The crimson red fair isle long john was a perfect touch for tonight. Much like earlier, the fireplace distracted me and I found myself sliding down onto the floor to marvel in its heat and beauty. If there were a pillow down here with me, I’d be asleep within minutes. Though he moved into this house not that long ago, for some reason it feels more lived in than my own. Maybe it’s because it’s filled with family right now or it may be the dogs, but I enjoy the way I feel here. There’s an eerie loneliness in my home that can be difficult to ignore sometimes.

“What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the fireplace.”

“Why are you acting like you don’t have one?” Once inside, he closed the door enough just to leave a crack in it.

“I don’t have one in my bedroom.”

“We can fix that.” Yet again, the nonchalance tone and now shrug awoken parts of me that I’ve been mentally taming since my arrival. He talks like he’s more than willing to give me the world in a silver platter if I were to request it.

“I have something for you.”

“I want something for you too.”

“Me first.” Rather than hanging it to him, I nudged the velvet gift bag towards his feet and he flopped down onto the floor to meet it. He dropped his gift for me, Cartier from what I observed, into his lap.

“Patek Philippe? Oh wow.” With no response, I allowed him to have the moment to himself as he pulled the chocolate toned leather box out of the bag. Our eye contact was brief as he pulled open the lid and his silence intrigued me instead of rattling my already racing nerves. Just as I’d done to the hoop earrings, his fingers ran over its surface while his lips parted to leave his mouth agape. It may not be on his arm now, but I’ve envisioned just how incredible it’s going to look on him over and over again.

“The blue isn’t only representative of the team but it also takes me back to the night we both spoke for the first time. You were wearing blue and black. In New Orleans, when we made things official, you were wearing blue. Blue makes me think of you. I know most associate that color with sorrow, but you give it life and joy. You give it character.”  

Only the sound of the fire crackling against the wood served as a tune dancing in the air of stillness between the two of us. His reaction to so many of the other things I gifted to him were boisterous and comedic, but this stole his words and left him to wallow in speechlessness.

“Sarai, I love you.”

The wholeness of his words filled voids that I neglected and accepted as everlasting destruction. His patience has sealed my gaping wounds and rid me of the leftover scarring. The acceptor of my deficiencies and the protector of my delicate soul, in his eyes, for the first time in such a long time, I recognize myself. The duality of being able to love myself and him is as synchronized as my breathing.

“I love you too, Odell.”

Undoubtedly. Irrevocably.

[football15-7fics]

Tu M’appartiens - Chapter 5 Part 1

But still, although Tessa was cursing Mats in the most spiteful of the way, Nicole read through the lines a truth that Tessa herself wasn't aware of.  Her loathing against Mats gave the impression that it seemed more of an animal attraction, that she was in need of him, that she wanted to fuck him.  Yes, Nicole had the perfect eye combined with the perfect brain in terms of body language, and concerning Tessa, it was an unquestionable topic, her body was craving on Mats.

Mats' presence had a bad impact on Tessa, at the view of him, she came to the saddest reality that her relaxing holiday came to an end.  His stupid smile on his stupid face rose her tantrum a little bit more.  When Tessa returned to the apartment, Nicole knew something was wrong based on the look on her friend's face expression.  This one was amused at Tessa's reaction, laughing uncontrollably each time Tessa was repeating over and over again how Mats raised his hand at her.

Nicole's clumsiness to this situation gave Tessa a feeling that her bestie didn't care about her, especially about the hot point that Mats saw her boobs.  

July 7, 2018

The big day finally arrived, Tessa turned 29, a new age for her.  Life hasn't always been kind with her, but as the strong woman she was, she always kept her head steady and proved she had enough of maturity to take care of  herself. Tessa developed a fierce maturity from a very young age, probably due to the divorce of her parents when she was still a child.  She forged herself a strong personality and was never afraid to raise her voice to say what had to be said.  Tessa was loved by everyone, first her dad and mom with whom she had a privileged strong bond, her friends, her coworkers and of course the BVB players that absolutely loved her.   Never ever a player from the team disrespected her in any way or never proposed a friends with benefits relation, she was considered as their sister.  But nevertheless this didn't refrain her from having a personal opinion on them, in fact she did find Sancho and Bürki really cute and attractive.

Nicole had been very evasive about the birthday party that she organized for her best friend.  Only two hints were revealed, first Tessa had to be sexy and the second one was to make the most of it.  As a smart girl, Tessa knew that everything seemed fishy, she felt something was on it's way and that it would be somehow of nasty.  But to please Nicole, she decided to keep that feeling for herself.

"You look fine as hell bitch!" Nicole said as both her and Tessa accessed the elevator.

🔴⚫[Tessa's Outfit]⚫🔴

"You look fine as hell bitch!" Tessa shot back sarcastically.

"So where are we going?" Tessa asked curiously as her fingers typed her phone screen answering to the many birthday wishes via her Instagram.

"You'll see!" Nicole said as she pressed the 20th floor button on the elevator control pad.

"Ehm why is the elevator going up?" Tessa frowned her eyes curiously.

"Surprise!"

"I thought we were going out!"

"Why go out when the best is right in our hand!"

"Alright!" Tessa answered but mumbled [I feel I'm having a lot of fun!] Out of earshot to Nicole.

The elevator doors opened at the 20th floor, both stepped out when Nicole grabbed a red scarf out of her bag.

"Wow wow what are you doing!" Tessa made a step back when Nicole was about to roll the red silk scarf around her eyes.

"It's a surprise baby, do you trust me?"

"Ehm.. I guess so!" Tessa said as she felt a little tensed but nodded approving Nicole's move.

"Now relax, and keep walking, don't worry I'll guide your steps, you are not going to hit nothing!"

"Ok…" Tessa said, feeling a bit more at ease.

Girl, trust me, you'll thank me!" Nicole said as they entered a room.

"Nicole, what is going on?"

"There she is…" An unfamiliar female voice exclaimed.

As the red scarf was detached off Tessa's eyes, this one got speechless at the stunning set of red themed decorations.  Masquerade masks, huge red sequins carefully wrapped around a huge table served with a delicious buffet.  Fine wine and champagne, petits-fours, luxurious lobster and a wide variety of seafood, it all looked like one of these socialite private parties.   Tessa examined each detail, but the gorgeous black and red birthday cake was too catchy to be unnoticeable.  Everything was decorated based on Tessa's favorite red color.  In the past Tessa always had amazing birthday parties, but this one was just on another level.

"My gosh, Nicole… it' s so perfect and beautiful, how… how did you do that!"

"I got some help in the name of this amazing girl, Amani!"

Tessa looked at the short woman, who looked absolutely stunning.  As Tessa looked closer at the woman, her mind sent her flashbacks, enough to recall who she was the same woman with whom Mats was at the swimming pool.

"Oh gosh!" Tessa mumbled.  "And who is Amani?" Tessa behaved foolishly.

"Oh, a friend… she's a sweet person!" Nicole said on a reassuring voice tone as she tapped on Tessa's shoulders.

"Happy Birthday sweetie, hope you like the decoration set, Nicole told me you were obsessed with the color red, so we based your little party on that!" Amani exclaimed excitedly.

"It's really beautiful, I can see you put a lot of devotion and of yourself, thank you, it's really perfect!" Tessa said in a sort of approval behavior.  

"Don't he shock darling!" Amani said funnily..

"I'm so glad you like it, we know that you're not a big fan of big parties with a hundredth of people, private parties are way funnier and much more intimate, basically anything can happen without having to justify over certain things!" Amani spoke with a suave voice tone while she approached Nicole with a surprising behavior of her having her mouth locked with Nicole exchanging a passionate kiss.  Tessa in shock had her mouth opened, in the unknown of how to react to this situation or of what to do or even what to say.

This was a new side of Nicole she found out and in the most of the explicit way.

"I'm… I…" Tessa baffled continuously with her eyes blinking several times.

"Tessa, you know me, I'm straight but sometimes crossing the line feels so good!"

"Nicole, I think I'll go back to our apartment room, you can stay here and have fun in my name!" Tessa spoke out foolishly.

"Yes, probably…" Tess was out of answers

She walked to the table where the food and drinks were displayed and served herself a glass of champagne that she gulped in one sip and filled up the empty glass immediately.

"No, you stay here, the fun hasn't even started yet, grab your glass, sit comfortably and relax!" Nicole guided Tessa to the living sofa.

"Are you girls dating or something similar to?"

"No, no, but from time to time when Nicole comes to Dubai, we get to have the best of the fun, we love to fuck!" Amani answered as she sat next to Tessa.

"Oh okay, I see, but yesterday, I saw you with Mats, at the swimming pool, you guys looked as a couple!" Tessa felt hungry to know further more about this sort of triangle couple or partner.

"Oh Mats, one of the greatest guy I know and probably the best lover ever, fuck with him for the first time and you'll get addicted to him!" Amani admitted with a sigh filled with lust.  

"Gosh, why are every woman addicted to Mats!" Tessa said with an annoyed voice.

"She hates Mats, he's the enemy!" Nicole joked.

"What, you hate on him, oh girl, this is the worst mistake of your life, he's one charming man, treats women with the biggest of the respect and will make you go insane on him, and you're totally his type of girl, sexy, gorgeous and smart, and you're definitely my type as well!" Amani said as her eyes examined Tessa from head to toes.

"Oh my gosh, girls, can we just go out, I want to go dancing to a nightclub, I want to meet some handsome boys, I want to have real fun, get drunk and behave naughty." Tessa begged with puppy eyes.

"Why to go out when we have everything here!" Amani spoke with her eyes focussed at another direction, precisely behind Tessa.  This one turned wanting to know what caught Amani's focus,  for a second she thought she saw Mats Hummels, but it was from being a mirage, Mats was really there, standing beside Tessa.

"Tessa, so nice to see you again!" Mats had one of those charming smile, but Tessa had a different opinion about it.  She had the look of a killer in her eyes, following his steps to the bar where he served himself a glass of red wine.  Tessa's anger took hold of her entirely, she was literally boiling to a point that it became hard to contain herself.  Inside she was yelling, spitting out her venom at Mats.

"Okay, tell me that this is a fucking joke?!" Tessa stood up from the sofa while she stared at Nicole with annoyance.

"Sweetie, calm down please!"

"How the fuck you want me to calm down when this fucker is here, smiling stupidly!" Tessa felt the tension rising so hard.

"Tessa, it's okay, it's your birthday, enjoy this moment please!" Amani tried to gain control of the situation while this one looked at Nicole for support.

"OMG, I can't believe it, you set me up, you set up all of this situation, Mats, the birthday, this place and everything, how could you do this to me!" Tears started to form in Tessa's eyes, not tears of sadness, but tears of rage.

"I didn't set you up darling, it was planned to have your birthday on a luxurious yacht but due to bad weather we had to find an alternative plan, and yes Mats is here because he is my friend and I thought that it was a perfect occasion for you guys to get to know each other!" Nicole shouted loudly enough.

"You know what, I never asked for all of this, I knew I should never have come here, wanna have fun, then just have fun, I'm out of this shit!" A flustered Tessa made her way out to the balcony, not even paying attention to Mats who did feel somehow bad for her.

"She's really mad Nicole, I think you should go and talk to her!" A concerned Mats said as he joined the two other girls.

"No, I have a better idea, she'll have a memorable birthday!" Amani said as she put a tiny white pill in Tessa's glass of champagne.

"Is that what I think it is?" Mats asked with a grin of satisfaction.

"Yes baby you got it, the most erotic natural drug that will make her change her mind radically!"

"Oh gosh, her wide side will take on her because believe me she is a savage!" Nicole laughed.

"Is she?" Mats frowned his eyes with curiosity.

"Oh Mats, you have no idea what you'll deal with!" Nicole winked an eye at him.

"Give me her glass, will bring it to her!" Nicole said.

[docholligay]

There was no time, in her life, that Haruka had ever thought her wife was not the most beautiful, intelligent, elegant woman on this earth. To see her now, even in a rippled vision at the edge of the pool, was a balm to Haruka’s irritated soul. She trusted Michiru completely. 

But there was, of course, the chance that even the most beautiful, intelligent, and trustworthy woman in the world could be mistaken. 

“My love, let’s us not be so terribly dramatic.” Michiru looked at her with a mix of love and resigned chiding. “I have told you the terms of your return, and I am assured by both Rei and Pluto that this is very likely to work.” 

“You want me to kiss a man!” She hissed in a stage whisper. “We’re married!” 

Michiru sighed. “Somehow I will contain my concern and jealousy.” 

“You want me to kiss a man!” 

Michiru crossed her arms, still shimmering on the water. “I rather recall seeing a photograph of you and some little boyfriend--” 

Haruka blushed and frowned deeply “I was fourteen! I was closeted! I was lonely!” 

“Well then, my love, perhaps it would behoove you to pretend as though you are that Haruka, fourteen, and closeted, and lonely.” She looked over to Tamahome and curled her lip. “I daresay it will only sweeten the pot for this one.” 

Haruka grabbed a towel off the edge of the pond. “There has to be something else. Mina’s there! She’s smart!” 

“Bud,” came a voice from far away, “Just slip him the pill in your mouth! Come on!” 

“I--” She balled her fists and yelled a howl of rage to the sky, “Fuck!” 

She got out of the pool, not even bothering to use the towel, just dripping as she crossed the stone to where Tamahome knelt, holding the pill between her teeth like it was a bullet to bite on while her leg was sawed off. 

She knelt in front of him, teeth gritted and moved slowly toward his face. 

“Yui...” he mumbled. 

Haruka took the pill out of her mouth, grabbed the back of Tamahome’s neck, and shoved the pill in his mouth. He struggled, but Haruka held his mouth shut, rubbing his throat until he swallowed, as if he were a cocker spaniel. 

“Just swallow it!” Haruka barked, still naked and dripping, brow furrowed in strict annoyance. 

He swallowed, and Haruka spriung to her feet, hands on her hips as she faced Michiru. 

“See??” I didn’t have to kiss him!” 

Hi there I’m watching this as a birthday gift for my bud, and she’s asked that I know NOTHING about the show, so please don’t fill me in! Also, she expected/desired me to rag on it, so whatever you’re about to write: No.

[splendidlyimperfect]

It’s been thirteen years since Natsu and Gray met in a program for troubled youth - since they both fell apart and helped put each other back together. Now they’re married and happy, loving each other and the shared family they found. But the past doesn’t always stay past, and when the things that broke them come back into their lives, Natsu and Gray have difficult decisions to make - ones that could change their lives forever.

Chapter Summary: Natsu and Gray deal with the aftermath of their fight.

Chapters (9/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine, Cana Alberona/Lucy Heartfilia, Chelia Blendy/Wendy Marvell Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney, Sting Eucliffe, Freed Justine, Laxus Dreyar, Wendy Marvell, Chelia Blendy, Ultear Milkovich, Lyon Vastia, Lucy Heartfilia, Cana Alberona Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aged-Up Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Married Couple, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Mental Health Issues, Foster Care, Family Issues, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Grief/Mourning, Childhood Trauma, Bipolar Disorder, Adoption, Families of Choice, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, Genderfluid Character, Forgiveness, Absent Parents, they're really in love but are sometimes dumb, Natsu is a stubborn shit Series: Part 14 of the only hope for me is you, Part 3 of if you jump i'll break your fall

**TW for brief mention of suicide attempt and child abuse

-----

Gray woke up alone. A thin ray of morning sunlight spilled through the window, and Happy was curled up next to him, purring contentedly. It took Gray a second to realize that he was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

“Hey, you,” he said to Happy, voice hoarse as he pushed himself up and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were swollen from crying, and when he rubbed his face, his skin felt tight and uncomfortable.

A clattering sound from the kitchen filled Gray with a sense of relief – Natsu was still here. Gray stretched, then stood up and took a deep breath before heading out into the living room.

Natsu stood in the kitchen, staring dully at a spot on the counter. The only sound in the apartment was the soft hiss of the coffee machine and the quiet hum of the washing machine from down the hallway.

“Hey,” Gray said, moving closer to Natsu and reaching out for him hesitantly. Natsu looked up at Gray with red eyes, giving him a soft smile before pulling him into an embrace. The tension in Gray’s body slowly melted away as he let himself relax in Natsu’s arms.

“You hungry?” Natsu asked, nodding at the fridge. “I can make pancakes.”  

Gray shook his head. “My stomach hurts,” he mumbled into Natsu’s shoulder.

“Mine too,” Natsu said, kissing Gray’s temple. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.”

Continue reading on AO3

Gray grabbed both cups of coffee and followed Natsu into the living room where they both curled up on the couch. Natsu yawned, rubbing his face and then pulling his sleeves down over his hands.

“That’s my sweater,” Gray said, sipping his coffee.

“Mm.” Natsu picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “I just...”

Guilt welled up in Gray’s chest and he set his coffee down on the table, then took Natsu’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.”

“You did,” Natsu said, shaking his head. “It’s okay,” Natsu reassured Gray quickly, squeezing his hand. “I was the one who was an ass. I shouldn’t have lied to you about my dad; I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.” He swallowed, keeping his gaze on their joined hands. “I didn’t plan on talking to him, I wasn’t lying about that, I promise.”

Gray shifted closer, pushing the blanket out of the way and wrapping his arm around Natsu. Natsu sighed, tipping his head against Gray’s and running his thumb over Gray’s knuckles.

“I just kept thinking about him. And you kept saying he could be dangerous, and it just... it made me feel stupid. I know you’re just looking out for me – I know that, but sometimes I just feel like this—like all I do is make mistakes, and hold you back, and you’re stuck taking care of me.”

“Natsu,” Gray said gently, pulling him closer.

“And you saying that it’s true, that I am too much sometimes—”

“That’s not—”

“Sorry, no, that’s not what I meant.” Natsu shook his head. “I just mean... you’re allowed to be overwhelmed, that’s not your fault.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“I know that. But it’s still a lot for you. I just... I’m so, so scared that one day you’re gonna get sick of dealing with me. That everyone is. Like everyone has this invisible counter and I use up chances with them every time I fuck up, and when that counter runs out, they’re going to leave.”

“I’m never going to leave you,” Gray insisted.

Natsu swallowed, squeezing Gray’s hand. “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” he said softly, “but I don’t know if I’ll ever really be able to believe that.”

A pang of hurt twisted in Gray’s chest. “Natsu, I—”

“It’s not you,” Natsu said quickly. “But so many people have left me. Not just my dad, but everyone who was supposed to be there for me. And every time I got moved or sent somewhere else, they told me I was too much. Too much work, too much trouble, too much to deal with.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Gray murmured, kissing the top of Natsu’s head.

“It’s why I stayed with Don,” Natsu said, running his fingers across the ring of circular scars across his right wrist. A flash of anger sparked through Gray as he recalled Natsu talking to his old social worker, telling her about how his foster father had held his arm down and burned him with the end of his cigarette as punishment for coming home late. “I was just tired of moving,” Natsu said softly. “I was tired of being too much. And then…” His gaze moved to his left arm, where the scars from the fire covered the one that had remained after he’d tried to take his life.

“I know,” Gray said, trying not to think of that terrifying day. “And I’m so sorry I brought that up – it wasn’t fair.”

“No, it’s okay,” Natsu said. “I think about it sometimes. How scared you must have been, finding me like that, and then you just… you took me in, let me stay, and you loved me, and…” His voice wavered and he touched his wedding band. “I’d never felt like that before. Being loved like that, I mean. You were the first person to tell me that you loved me since my dad.”

Gray wrapped both arms around Natsu and held him as tight as possible, fighting against the tears that were threatening to resurface again. “I do love you,” he whispered. “So, so much, and I’m never going to stop. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but there’s nothing you could do to drive me away. You’re the most important person in my life and I would be so lost without you.” 

~

Natsu sniffed, turning in Gray’s arms and pressing his face to Gray’s shoulder. He always felt safe here, felt loved and needed. The doubt only surfaced when they were apart; when Natsu was alone with his thoughts and his brain kept whispering: nobody needs you, nobody loves you, they’re all just tolerating you, one day they’re all going to leave.

“You saved my life, too,” Gray said, kissing Natsu’s forehead. The tiny gesture flooded through Natsu and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that welled up inside him. “All the good things I have are because of you, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Natsu took a shaky breath. “Really?”

“Really,” Gray said, running a hand up and down his arm. “I don’t think you’re broken, mon couer. You’re not damaged, or too much, and I wouldn’t love you more if you weren’t bipolar.”

Natsu couldn’t help the choked sob that broke out of him as relief started to push away the doubt. Gray made a soft, soothing sound and ran his fingers through Natsu’s hair, resting his cheek on the top of Natsu’s head.  

“It’s not your fault,” Gray said again, “and I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

Natsu curled closer against Gray, rubbing at his face with his hoodie sleeve. The skin around his eyes ached from yesterday’s tears.

“I do feel overwhelmed sometimes,” Gray said. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, or if I could be… better, or more supportive. It’s scary and frustrating to see you hurting, but I know you can’t change it. And I didn’t mean to keep any of that from you, I just felt like… you didn’t need to deal with that on top of how you were feeling. I know you’re scared I’m going to leave, and I didn’t want to make that worse.”

Shame and regret crept into Natsu’s cheeks as he thought about the angry words he’d shouted the night before. “I feel so stupid,” he said. “I hate being sick. I hate not knowing if my feelings are real, or just dumb chemicals in my brain not working the way they should. I hate that you get scared, I hate that I feel so fucking out of control sometimes.”

“I know,” Gray murmured. “And I’m sure me asking about your meds doesn’t help.”

Natsu thought about the pill container next to the stove, about the tiny pang of shame that ran through him some days when he swallowed them down. “It doesn’t,” he admitted, “but I get why you ask. I have been taking them, I promise, but… I dunno, maybe I need to see my psychiatrist again.” He groaned in frustration.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Gray said gently. “But I think this is more than just meds. The stuff with your dad, I mean.”

Natsu sighed. “Yeah,” he said. Then he reached down and pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, turning it on and opening the conversation with Neelan. The last message sat there like an accusation.

Do you want to meet?

He scrolled up until he found the picture he was looking for, then passed the phone to Gray. “That’s my mom,” he said quietly. “I’d never seen a picture of her before.”

Gray stared at the photo for a moment as he ran his thumb across Natsu’s shoulder. “She looks just like you,” he said eventually. “Can I look at the rest of them?”

Natsu nodded, watching as Gray slowly flipped through the other photos. He paused on the one of Neelan holding Natsu in the hospital.

“He loved me,” Natsu said softly as he stared at the picture. “And he seems so… normal. He keeps apologizing for leaving, but he still hasn’t said why, and I don’t know how to ask.”

Gray made a sympathetic noise, closing the photos and scrolling up through the messages. “Do you want to meet him?” he asked.

“I think so,” Natsu said. He braced himself for Gray to disagree, but Gray didn’t say anything. “Is that… okay?”

Gray set the phone down on the couch and moved to face Natsu, taking both of his hands and squeezing them. “It’s not my decision,” he said. “I don’t want to tell you what to do. I’m scared of what might happen, and you’re right, that’s on me and my trauma. I just want to be a part whatever you do. If you want to meet him, I’ll be here for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Natsu said, cheeks burning with shame. “I’m so sorry I lied to you.”

“I forgive you,” Gray said, bringing Natsu’s hands up and kissing them. “And I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t trust you.”

Natsu leaned in and pressed his forehead to Gray’s. “You’d think we’d know better after thirteen years,” he said, and was relieved when a small smile crept across Gray’s face.

“It’s because we’re both stubborn assholes,” Gray said. “I hate fighting.”

“Me too.” Natsu let go of one of Gray’s hands and touched his cheek, then leaned in slowly, sighing in relief when Gray tentatively kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Natsu kissed Gray again, then pulled back and brushed a few stray hairs out of his face. “Do you want to talk about Lyon?” he asked. Guilt still rested heavily in his chest at the thought of Gray, curled up against their bedroom wall and crying harder than he had in a long, long time.

“Not right now.” Gray picked at a hole in his sweatpants. “Can we shower? I feel gross.”

“Same,” Natsu said, pushing himself up off the couch and helping Gray up too. “Why don’t I text Sting and see if I can take the afternoon off; I don’t have any big jobs right now. Maybe we can go down to the beach, or go have lunch with Sylvie?”

Gray nodded, stepping forward and pulling Natsu into a tight hug. “That sounds nice.” He pressed his forehead to Natsu’s shoulder and yawned. “Can we take a nap first? I’m so tired.”

“Of course,” Natsu said, kissing Gray’s cheek and holding him close. “Whatever you need.” 

~

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell him.”

Sting’s voice was quiet, but Natsu could hear the frustration in it, even over the phone.

“I know,” Natsu said softly, glancing back at the bedroom where Gray was still sleeping. “I feel really shitty and stupid. We spent all morning talking about it, and we’re both exhausted.”

Sting made a quiet sound of sympathy. “It’s not busy here, don’t worry about coming in. Just...” He sighed. “You lied to me, too.”

Natsu groaned and slumped back against the couch. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“We all do dumb shit,” Sting said, voice softening. “I’m glad you talked to him, though. He’s just worried about you – that’s what husbands are supposed to do. Ryos drives me crazy when he gets on my case about my meds, too. But he’s not doing it because he doesn’t trust me, he’s doing it because the last time I had a seizure, I ended up with sixteen stitches and scared the shit out of Noah.”

Natsu nodded, remembering Sting falling from the ladder at work and the awful cracking sound when his head had hit the concrete floor of the shop.

“You’re right,” he said.

“Of course I am,” Sting said, and Natsu was relieved to hear the disappointment in his voice turning to gentle teasing. “Now go do something nice with your husband and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~

Gray didn’t talk about Lyon until later that evening, when they were sitting on the beach near the pier and watching the sunset. Soft, pink light spilled across the waves, rippling as the tide washed through the sand and dragged it back out to sea.

“I miss him, sometimes,” Gray said. He was sitting between Natsu’s legs, back against his chest with Natsu’s arms wrapped around him.

“Lyon?”

“Mm.” Gray kicked off his flip-flops and dug his feet into the sand. “When Ultear said he was having this hearing, the first thing I felt was scared. But...” He trailed off, looking down at the bracelet around his wrist. Lyon had given it to him years ago, before their mom had died. “I don’t know if I’m angry or relieved,” Gray admitted after a minute. “Or both.”

“Would you want to see him? If he gets out on parole?”

Gray looked back out at the ocean and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe? Is that weird?”

“I don’t think so. He’s your brother.”

“But he hurt me,” Gray said quietly. He reached up and touched his shoulder where the skin was white and scarred. “Why would I want to see him?”

“Because he loves you,” Natsu said. “And I know you love him.” Natsu kissed the top of Gray’s head, then took both hands in his, slipping their fingers together. “Your relationship with him is more than just the bad shit that happened. You have years of good memories with him before that, right?”

Gray shrugged. “I guess. I just... there was some part of me that thought he was gone forever, y’know? And I know parole is a thing, and he’s been there for a long time already, I had just kind of resigned myself to never seeing him again.”

“I know.”

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving them in a soft darkness. Gray closed his eyes, tipping his head back against Natsu’s shoulder and cuddling closer to him.

“Ultear said I could write a Victim Impact Statement,” he said after a while. “For the hearing.” Natsu nodded. He had written one for Don’s trial, but his social worker, Richelle, had been the one to read it in court. “I did the first time,” Gray added. “When Lyon was sentenced. I didn’t go, Ultear read it for me. I don’t even remember what it said.” He sighed, keeping his eyes closed. “I just feel a whole bunch of different things and I hate all of them.”

Natsu pulled Gray closer and squeezed his hands. “You said you have an appointment with Victim Services on Friday?” he asked. Gray nodded. “What about going to see your therapist?”

Gray groaned. “I don’t want to,” he grumbled. “I hate therapy.”

“I know, Snowflake.” Natsu kissed his cheek. “Actually, I was thinking... what if we went to therapy together?” Gray opened his eyes and frowned at Natsu. “Don’t pout,” Natsu teased.

“’m not pouting,” Gray insisted. Natsu laughed and kissed his nose.

“You are a bit.”

Gray huffed, shuffling further back against Natsu.

“Freed and Laxus go to therapy together,” Natsu said after a minute. Gray raised an eyebrow. “Laxus was telling me about it the last time we were over there. Just ‘cause of all the shit with his dad, and stress and stuff. And Sting and Ryos go too, with Noah and without him. It’s not a bad thing.”

“I know,” Gray said, wishing that the idea of talking about his feelings with a stranger didn’t make him feel like throwing up. “You’re probably right.”

“You know I am.” Natsu shifted in the sand and moved his arms down around Gray’s waist. “I wish everything were easier,” he said, resting his chin on Gray’s shoulder. “I feel like a mess.”

“You are a mess,” Gray teased. “That’s why I love you. We’re both disasters and we always have been.”

Natsu laughed, nipping playfully at Gray’s ear. Gray elbowed him half-heartedly and he made an exaggerated sound of protest before kissing behind Gray’s ear instead. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” he asked, breath tickling Gray’s neck.

“Yeah,” Gray said, tipping his head to the side and catching Natsu’s lips in a soft kiss. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”