#i went through my old art yesterday and thought 'ah hell...why not'

[bloodlyst]

"its my pleasure"

[kiirokero]

Inure (KSJ)

Inure: To accept and grow accustomed to something undesirable

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot series.

Masterlist

Pairing: Banker!Seokjin x FinancialAdvisor!Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, misunderstandings, a bit of suggestive content (?) idiots to lovers (kinda) 

Note: This was supposed to be out yesterday, but my dumbass fell asleep before I got to finish and polish it. I drank dumb bitch juice, apparently. 

Summary: Having strict, overbearing parents meant expectations, and those expectations pushed you to be a financial advisor for the sake of making them proud. Worst idea ever. Well... Maybe not. Besides, you got to meet Kim Seokjin.

Word Count: 6k

��     “Taehyung... I’ve told you that eating half of your cookies every time you make a new batch isn’t good for business. You’re lucky Jimin and Jeongguk like your treats so much or you would be here filing for bankruptcy.” I scolded the younger boy in front of me. Taehyung gave me a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Noona,” I sighed, shaking my head to relieve the small headache I had going on. 

      Taehyung was a good kid. Well... He was in his twenties, but he still had that childlike glow to him. But with the childlike glow came the less than logical decisions. “Tae, you still have loans to pay back and they’re coming up soon. I don’t want to be the pessimist, but it’s better to sell those cookies.” 

      Taehyung nodded, “Don’t worry! I got this!” He exclaimed, a determined grin on his face. “I’m sure you do, now you’re free to go do more fun things,” I chuckled, gathering all the paperwork that laid on my desk that detailed Taehyung’s finances. Boring stuff, really. “Thanks, Noona! Come by sometime, okay?” We waved goodbye, silence now encompassing my small plain office. 

     It wasn’t even lunch yet, and everything has already drained my will to stay awake. It’s not that I absolutely loathed my job. I enjoyed seeing Yoongi or Taehyung light up in joy when I told them they reached their business goal or answered their questions about the best way to save. It was satisfying.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t boring as hell sometimes. 

      Sometimes I wished I gave my parents a big middle finger and majored in art conservation. I’d rather be looking at 200-year-old paintings of dead people and bringing a portrait back to life rather than staring at paperwork with endless numbers printed on them. But, alas, I didn’t. Now here in Bangtan Village, I help the businesses (and occasional person) here thrive. 

      “Tired already?” My coworker, Hyejin, asked as she walked into my office. “An accurate observation,” I sighed, resting my forehead on my mahogany desk. “I assume Taehyung’s business is doing well then?” She chuckled, handing me some files that I’d have to look over later. “Now you know I can’t disclose client information, but let’s just say he’s lucky to have gluttons as friends.” I chuckled. 

     Hyejin snorted and shook her head. “That boy... Besides that I came in here to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner after work, but you really do look exhausted,” Hyejin’s face contorted into worry. She grabbed my face with both hands and moved it in different ways, looking at the consequences work related stress gave me. An acne breakout on my right temple, dark circles under my eyes, pale face. I’ll admit I didn’t look my best, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. 

I had to work.

      “It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I just need more coffee,” I shrugged, gently moving away from her grasp. “Y/n, running on just coffee isn’t good for you either,” Hyejin pouted, gesturing to the 2 empty mug already sat on my desk. “It’s not ideal, but I can’t just not work,” I pointed out, “You haven’t taken any days off since you came down with the flu, in January, two years ago.” Hyejin deadpanned, “You need a break. I’m sure Yoongi and Taehyung won’t go bankrupt in a matter of three days,” 

      I groaned and slouched in my old leather desk chair. “But what if they do...?” I whined. “You’re being irrational.” Hyejin sarcastically whined back, mimicking my slouched shoulders and pouty lip. “Why don’t you just ask Mr. Kim to give you a couple days off?” She suggested. I laughed, “Mr. Kim? Overly handsome Mr. Kim that I can barely speak a word too without blubbering? Me? Talk to him?” 

      I chuckled some more and Hyejin gave me an unimpressed face. “It’s not that hard! What’s so bad about it?” She scrutinized. “What so hard? His handsome face! The way he says my name! His eyes! They make me loose all brain function like I’m not a college graduate,” I pointed out, because it was obvious. 

      Kim Seokjin. Manager of Bangtan Village’s bank. 28 years old, tall, the embodiment of professionalism. He looked as if god sculpted him. A modern rendition of Galatea. He had a demeanor that called for authority without question. When he walked by, you had to pay attention. 

      Some may say that this only affected me so badly because of my tiny crush on him. But I beg to differ. How could you look at that beautiful face and not stutter? How could you hear that voice and not swoon? How could your heart not skip a beat whenever he smiled or laughed? Even if he always played the boss role, I couldn’t help but fall.

      “You’re overreacting, it’s just-” Hyejin was cut off by a knock at the door. “Come in!” I called, sitting back up in my seat and dusting off my blouse. The door opened and the one and only Kim Seokjin walked in. Speak of the devil. “Good afternoon ladies,” He said with an unwavering smile. We replied with a ‘good afternoon’ back. 

“What brings you here?” I asked, fiddling with my hands. 

“I just wanted to ask your opinion on something,” Seokjin explained. 

      He walked further into the room, rounding my desk to stand beside my sitting form. He placed a folder in front of me, three sheets of paper spilling from the manilla cardstock. Seokjin leaned down next to me, one hand on my desk, one hand on the back of my chair. I could faintly smell his earthy cologne. 

      I cleared my throat, erasing the invasive thoughts of Seokjin from my mind. This was work, business, he needed your help with something. Calming my shaky hands, I grabbed the first sheet of paper, examining the printed black numbers and letters. The closer I looked, I spotted the bank’s name printed on the top and different amounts of money though a certain number of months below it. 

    “M-Mr. Kim, are these the statements for our bank?” I asked, flipping through the three pages that contained more information on money and spending. “It is,” He answered back, turning his head to look at me. I looked at him in return, suppressing the gasp in my throat when I realized just how close he was. His honey eyes roamed my face for a moment before he spoke again, “What do you think?” 

      Confused, I looked back at the papers briefly. “Are you asking me to make a business plan for the bank...?” I questioned, looking back at my boss. He shrugged nonchalantly, “No, do you think we need one?” Answering my question with more questions. “N-No, the bank’s doing well.” I said, “We’re not drastically losing money or anything, not losing money at all actually...” I mumbled to myself, but loud enough that the man beside me heard. 

      Seokjin let out a nonchalant hum, sitting back up in his pitch perfect posture. “If you say so. I trust your opinion.” He said, gathering the papers from my desk and making his way to the door. “Wait! Mr. Kim!” Hyejin spoke up. Seokjin stopped, turning his attention on Hyejin, who had a knowing smile on her face. “Ms. L/n actually has a request for you,” She said in a sweet voice, gesturing her hand towards me. 

      Seokjin’s attention spun towards me and I stopped like a deer in headlights.  “Yes, Ms. L/n?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows. That shouldn’t be attractive... But it was. “I- uh... I’m...” I stuttered, not being able to tear my eyes away from the alluring man in front of me. “Ms. L/n wants to know if she can have a couple days off,” Hyejin spoke for me.

      “I do?” “She does?” Seokjin and I asked at the same time. “Yep!” Hyejin said, giving me a “If you say otherwise I’ll put itching powder in your skirts” look. So for the sake of my comfort, I shut up and went along with it. A couple days couldn’t hurt, right? If there's a financial emergency, then I’ll get a call or something. 

      Seokjin cleared his throat and turned back to me with a worried look on his face. “Are you okay Ms. L/n? You’re not sick or anything?” He asked. “N-No just... I just need a break, ya know?” I nervously chuckled, fiddling with the end of my blouse to keep my racing thought to a minimum. “Ah, okay. You’re welcome to have a few days off, you deserve time off,” Seokjin smiled. 

      After we exchanged our goodbyes and Seokjin left, I whipped around towards Hyejin and glared at her harder than a teenage boy glaring at his mom after she took away his vape. “What was that?” I hissed, crossing both of my arms. Hyejin, unphased by my threatening demeanor, chuckled and sighed. “That, my friend, was you getting a well-deserved break”

      I never realized how bland my apartment was until now. I mean, yes, it looks kinda lived in and yes, there are kink-knacks lounging about. It just looks, barely used. Which wouldn’t be an understatement considering falling asleep on my desk at work is a common occurance. 

     Maybe it’s because I haven’t spent a lot of time here. I’m always cooped up in my office, whether it be my home one or the one at work. My home office looks like I’ve used it well, if all the coffee stains are anything to go off of. But the rest of my apartment looks like a set from a sitcom, purposefully messy, not “I’ve been here for 10 years” messy. 

      It was slightly unsettling how much I got used to something I dreaded. How I threw myself into a routine- an unhealthy one at that- and got used to it. I always told myself that no matter what, I’d still paint. I’d still go to art galleries and watch those calming art restoration videos on YouTube, living vicariously through the screen. 

But I didn’t.

      I suppressed the hurt I felt for not being able to follow my dream by forcing myself to like what cards my parents dealt to me, what cards I played. That fact scared me. It scared me cause even if this was my apartment, even if I had trinkets that reminded me of my favorite shows and books, even if I was away from the pressures of my overbearing parents. I wasn’t living in a home. This was my apartment, but it wasn’t my apartment.

      Not a single thing around reminded me of my passion. Not a painting, not a paint tube, not a paintbrush. Not even an art catalog. I love art catalogs. Maybe I really needed this break, maybe I needed it to show myself that I wasn’t thrilled with the life I had now. 

However, there was nothing I could do, could I?

       It was too late. The diplomas on my wall told me that. It was too late to turn back. I’m 27. I already laid my life out for myself. I would be a financial advisor until I retired or died. That fact didn’t leave a pleasant feeling in my heart. But what could I really do about it?

      The sound of the doorbell ringing jostled me awake from my nap. I gave myself a second to get my bearings. I was in my living room, on the couch. Grey blanket draped over my form while the T.V played some trash show. Groaning, I got up from my makeshift bed, stretching out my stiff muscles as I made my way to the front door. 

       Opening the door, I saw Jimin, the town's delivery boy, standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hands. “Hello Jimin,” I said, giving the boy a smile. “Hey Y/n! Long time no see,” He chuckled, “I have a delivery for you,” He said, extending the vase of flowers in his hands towards me. “Oh, thank you Jimin, but I didn’t order any flowers,” I said. 

     “Not you, someone ordered flowers for you!” He said, turning the vase around to show me a little card that was hanging off of it. “You have a secret admirer,” He chuckled. Confused, I took the vase from him, smelling the saccharine aroma of the peonies and daisies that laid perfectly together. “Oh, wow, thank you again Jimin. Have a good day!” I said, Jimin gave me his award-winning smile as he bid me farewell. 

      I stepped back inside my apartment, shutting the door behind me. I walked to my kitchen and placed the heavy vase down on the counter, grabbing the attached card. “Min’s Flowers” was printed on the front in a style resembling calligraphy. Opening the card, I saw a neat handwritten note. 

‘Dear Y/n, I hope you are feeling better after getting some rest. You should know that you can always ask for a break when you need one, you’re an amazing advisor, but I know that staring at paper work can get a bit boring. I hope you like the flowers, I remember you mentioning that your favorite art piece had beautifully painted peonies. Get some rest, okay? 

P.S. Why was the office of cantaloupes so glum? Because they were melon-colleagues!”

      “Melon-colleagues... Oh!” I chuckled to myself, only understanding the play on words once I said it aloud. “This was sweet of you, Mr. Kim,” I said to myself, smelling the peonies once again. It was stupid how easily the man made me swoon, a simple smile here, a compliment there. Anything he did made my heart skip a beat, and this was no different. 

      I carried the vase to my bedroom, placing it on my bedside table next to my alarm clock. Deciding that I should thank him, I grabbed my phone and opened it to my messenger. Was it unprofessional to text your boss? I mean, I am thanking him for a gift so I suppose it’s fine. I texted out a simple ‘thank you’ message and sending it. 

‘I got the flowers Mr. Kim, thank you. They’re beautiful :)’

But what I didn’t expect was an immediate answer back. 

‘You’re welcome and please call me Jin :)’

‘Alright, Jin’

      “I’m telling you Y/n, I think Mr. Kim has a thing for you!” Hyejin squealed over the phone to me. “No, he doesn’t, he’s just a nice man,” I said, placing the new vase of flowers that were just delivered to me on my coffee table. “He sends you flowers every day! That’s not nothing!” She argued. I rolled my eyes, picking up the new card and flipping it open to read. 

‘Dear Y/n, I got you mini sunflowers this time, they remind me of you. Also, why was the broom late for work? It overswept!’

      I chuckled, turning my attention back to Hyejin. “I’m sure he’ll stop soon,” I counter argued. “Besides, what would Mr. God’s bragging right want from me?” “God, you are so dense it hurts. Did you know he asks about you? Checks your office to see if you came in today? Every single day.” Hyejin revealed. I stopped fiddling with the flowers for just a moment. “He does?” 

      I heard Hyejin groan and sigh, “Yes! Mr. Kim totally has a thing for you!” She stressed, “Jin’s just-” “See! He even lets you call him by a nickname!” Hyejin cut me off. “Hyejin, you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies,” I giggled, “Friends are nice to each other. No matter how badly I want Mr. Hottie to smack me in the face with his lips, it’s just unrealistic.” 

      “Okay, how about I prove to you he’s crushing on you? Get you undeniable evidence?” She bargained, and I could only imagine the mischievous face she was most likely sporting. “What are you going to do? Follow him around with a camera?” I chuckled sarcastically. “No! But what if you tell him about something you like? But really discreetly. You mentioned he remembered your favorite painting, say something in passing that nobody would care about unless they wanna impress you!” Hyejin answered. 

      “That’s a horrible idea.” I deadpanned, “But if it’ll get you to leave me alone about this, I’ll do it.” I heard Hyejin cheer, sounding way too excited about what will end up being nothing. “You’ll see!” Hyejin teased. I was about to refute her statement when my phone chimed. I took it away from my ear to see a message from Jin. “Speak of the devil, he just texted me,” I said aloud. “Well, don’t leave him hanging, go on! I’ll talk to you later!” Hyejin said as she hung up. 

Shaking my head at her antics, I opened my messages. 

‘Hey! How are you feeling?’ The text said,

‘I’m feeling better, thank you. How are you doing?’ I asked.

      That was the start of a very long conversation. One where we talked about mostly anything. Jin mentioned that he was bored in his office doing nothing and decided to check up on me, to which I joked about telling the boss about his slacking. 

      The conversation flowed without hesitation. There was no long pause between messages, no awkward one-worded responses. Just the two of us talking freely. I completed Hyejin’s challenge when Jin was telling me about all the pretty colored flowers that Yoongi had in his shop. I agreed with him, saying that it would be nice to paint it, preserving the colors in art form. 

But what I hadn’t expected was for Jin to drop a bomb on me. 

       We were talking about Jin’s printer that seems haunted because it beeps at the weirdest times. He was making a joke about talking to it and having it as a friend, and to bring that joke to a close he took a selfie with the printer. Admittedly, he looked very handsome posing next to a hunk of metal, but it wasn’t his face that caught me off guard, it was his collarbone. 

     Normally, looking at someone's collarbone on purpose just seems... Pervy... But when there’s an irritated bruise on it, it draws one's attention. Right there, peaking out from under his slightly unbuttoned white button up, was a bruise on his collarbone. Now, I’m not naïve. Why else would you have a bruise there unless someone left it on you in a steamy way? 

      Maybe I was denying the possibility of Jin having a crush on me to Hyejin, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for her words to be true. Deep down I wanted her to be right. I wanted my feelings for the stunning man I was texting and talking to for the past couple days to be reciprocated. How dumb was I?

      Of course he had a lover. Just look at him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s kind, funny, hard-working. We were in our late 20s, this was the time where most of the people our age were settling down, having kids, getting ready for the future. There’s probably going to be a ring on his perfectly imperfect finger soon.

That fact shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does...

‘Dear Y/n, You mentioned you’d like to paint the flowers in Yoongi’s shop, so I got really colorful flowers for you. Maybe now you can paint them? I’d love to see if you did. I’m sure your just as good as an artist as you are an advisor. Hyejin mentioned you plan on coming back to work tomorrow, I’m happy you’re feeling better. :)

P.S What’s red and smells like blue paint? Red paint!’

      I felt as if my body was betraying my thoughts as a slight smile graced my lips at Jin's terrible dad joke. My heart still beating for him even if my brain was against it, flashing the image of a passionately bruised Jin into my mind every time my heart rate picks up at his words. 

      What betrayed me more was my body moving on autopilot towards my storage closet, wrestling my way to the back, pulling out tubes of old paint, sets of old paintbrushes, and an old easel. What betrayed me more was my body going to an empty corner in my room, setting up a workspace for my suppressed passion to flow, setting the colorful flora delicately on a spare table. What betrayed me more was the way I didn’t hesitate to squeeze colors out of their tubes, meticulously pick paintbrushes, lift my hand up to start the first stroke. Then the second, then the third.

      Soon I got lost in the motion of forgetting everything. Enclosing myself in my own world, nothing but me and the canvas. Focusing on the details of flowers that nobody cared to look at. Stem, sepal, stigma. All pieces of a puzzle that made up a delicate lily. Those lilies making up the picture of the vase, that bouquet having much more meaning than anybody could interpret. 

      A bouquet that represented longing, hurt, disappointment. All conveyed with every stroke of the brush, every color mixed, every dot placed. Anyone looking in on my life from a fogged window wouldn’t understand why tears fell from my eyes as I continued painting. People would tilt their heads in confusion at the way I stared, longingly, at the seemingly simple flowers. People would whisper words of confusion as I unconsciously desaturated my colors to match the feeling that plagued me. 

A once bright image turned into a foggy photo of melancholy. 

      I painted those flowers and cried, dreaming about the man I couldn’t have, the man I longed to hold, to kiss, to cherish. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was overreacting. A simple bruise. A simple reddish bruise is all it took to break my spirit? Silly when you think about it hard enough, but feelings and rationality are a funny concoction. Never quiet going together in how they should, many opting to unconsciously separate the two. Many like me. 

      I should’ve suppressed the wayward feelings when I recognized them years ago. Lock them in a box and throw them away, never to be seen again. Have my heart swallow the key, then forget about its existence. But I didn’t. The nights spent thinking about him; the days spent watching him from afar; they passed like a flash of lighting. My feelings growing quicker than I expected, right under my nose. 

      When I finished, I didn’t move. I just looked at the painting that was a product of my suppressed sorrow. Realizing that not only did Jin steal my heart, he reawakened my passion for painting as well. 

      “Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so well,” Hyejin asked, taking a sip from her mug that aptly said “Cupid’s Sleuth” that I got her for her birthday one year after she set up two of our mutual friends together. “I guess,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on my own cup of liquid energy. 

      Hyejin put her hand on my shoulder to gain back my attention, but after a restless night my reaction speed wasn’t the best, so I didn’t notice it. “Y/n,” She called, and I looked up from my mug. “You’re even worse than you were before you took a mini-vacation, what happened?” 

      I sighed, placing my mug down on the gray counter of the employee break room. “You were right. He remembered.” I said in a gravelly voice. “That’s great! Right?” She cautioned. I said nothing, opting to fish my phone out of my pocket and opening my messages with Seokjin, turning the phone to her to show her the picture. 

     “I don’t- Oh...” She coughed. “That um...” She stammered. “Yep, looks like a hickey.” I said, putting my phone back in my pocket. “But that doesn’t make sense, he’s obviously likes you!” She argued, “Well, obviously he doesn’t!” I snapped, startling Hyejin. “Sorry, but the proof is right there, Hyejin, he already has a lover,” I sighed. 

      Hyejin didn’t say anything. Her face showed she was thinking about something, and she was thinking hard. “There has to be an explanation,” She mumbled. “There’s something we don’t know. If he had a lover, why has he never talked about them? Mentioned them in passing? Or even have a picture of them on his desk?” She pointed out. “Maybe they’re a private couple,” I reasoned. 

     Hyejin shook her head, mumbling out, “No... that’s not it,” Her eyebrows creased as we stood there in silence. “He’d at least have a picture... Why don’t you just talk to him?” She suggested. I choked on the coffee I was sipping, hacking up the liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Talk to him? And what? Admit that I’ve fallen in love with him so he can laugh about me to his significant other when he gets home? Not happening.” I said. 

      Hyejin rolled her eyes, “Come on, talking is the only way to sort this out. You’re an adult Y/n!” She gestured to my matured, adult body as if I didn’t already know this fact. “Sometimes, things are best left to the unknown, for the sake of my heart.” I finished the rest of my coffee and left the cup in the sink. “I appreciate your effort, but this time you can’t be cupid's sleuth.” I lamented, leaving the break room to go back to my office.

      I avoided Jin like the plague for the next few weeks. Running away from him in the halls before he saw me, leaving for lunch before him, not leaving my office unless absolutely necessary. Others were starting to notice my sudden aversion for my boss, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look at him. 

      Every glance at his face, rumble of his voice, whiff of his earthy cologne whenever I rushed by him in the halls, it was torture. I hated the way my heart skipped a beat at everything he did. How my breath picked up and palms turned sweaty. I hated the way he still held my heart captive in his hands, even if he didn’t know it.

      So, if it hurt to be around him, I’ll avoid him. No matter how long it takes for my feelings to dissipate, I’m willing to dance this dance around him. They have to go away eventually, right? I wouldn’t be a hopeless romantic forever...

      I drowned my thoughts in paint. Left my sorrows in swirling blues and purples. Expressed my frustrations in striking reds and yellows. Wrote my whimsical wishes in hues of greens and pinks. I got lost in the empty canvas set up in front of me, giving color to the void of white. 

      I never knew how to start or where to finish, but I just let myself flow. Orange here, maroon there, wherever it felt right is where it went. Soon pictures of flowers and sunsets would emerge from the cacophony of colors that I splattered on the canvas. The worlds that I painted ones of idealization. Worlds where there was no hurt, no pain, no disappointment. 

      That’s where I was now, currently getting lost in saturations of green. Sitting in front of a canvas, I painted a world of my own. This one was turning into an open field at dawn. Maybe if I give it to a psychiatrist, they’ll understand the unconscious emotions I laid bare in the paint. Point out why such a picture gave off feelings of longing, melancholy. But for now this was my solitude, my abditory. 

      A knock on my front door threw me out of that daydream, however. Confused, I turned to look outside at the weeping sky. It was pouring. Who in their right mind was at my door? I quickly got up and hurried over to my door, not caring that I was in my paint stained apron or that I had paint on my face. But maybe I should’ve when I opened the door and was greeted by a soaking wet Seokjin. 

      Gasping, I took in his sopping form. He was dripping from head to toe, still dressed in his work attire. “Jin? What are you doing out in the rain? Come on, come in,” I said, ushering him inside. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than his comfort and the fact he was most likely freezing. 

      I quickly hurried to my hallway linen closet, grabbing one of my fluffy towels and rushing back to give it to Jin. “Let’s get you warm,” I led him to the couch, sitting him down. After Jin dried off a bit, I prepared some tea and handed him a cup. “Thank you,” He said, giving me that same adorable smile. “What were you doing out in the rain?” I asked, keeping my mind off of his charm. 

      “I wanted to come see you...” He admitted, nervously looking down at his cup. “M-Me? You see me at work, Jin,” I pointed out, taking a sip of tea from my own cup. “No... I don’t, you’ve been avoiding me Y/n,” He whinged, emphasizing the “avoiding” part. “I haven’t been avoiding you...” I fibbed, looking anywhere but at him. 

      “Yes, you have! It’s like I’ve got the plague-Which I don’t- Did I do something wrong?” He fretted, a look of hurt on his handsome face. I didn’t know what to say, I wanted to say no, tell him it was all me and my stupid feelings for him, but admitting that to him was terrifying. After I didn’t answer for a minute, Jin sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. 

      “I don’t- I really don’t understand...” He whimpered, sounding like a kicked puppy. It tug at my heart string more. “I’m sorry...” I mumbled, guilt bubbling up in my throat and stinging at my eyes.  

“I don’t want a sorry! I want an explanation! What did I do?” Jin glowered.

“It wasn’t you! Alright? It was never you... It was me! I can’t be around you!” I yelled.

“Why not?”

     “Because I love you, asshole! And it hurts to know that you already have someone who loves you the way I wish I could.” I wept, tears of frustration spilling out of my eyes. I furiously wiped away the stray evidence of my inner turmoil, turning away from the man in front of me. “Alright...? Is that what you wanted to hear...?” I sniffled. 

      Jin stayed silent. Not making a sound. The only noise that could be heard was the beating of rain against the windows and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. “I’ll call you a cab...” I choked out, stepping towards my bedroom where I left my phone laying on my bed. 

      As I went to go grab it, Jin stopped me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back. I whipped around, bumping into Jin’s wet chest, his large hand still wrapped around my dainty wrist. “Jin, what are you-” “Where’d you get that idea?” Jin asked, cutting me off. 

      “What?” I whispered. “Where’d you get the idea that I have a lover?” He asked, staring directly into my eyes. His face was so close to mine that I could faintly feel the breaths he took. I could see the little imperfections on his face, a freckle here, a scar there. He never failed to take my breath away. 

      I peeled my eyes away from his amber ones, focusing on the- now faint- bruise that rested on his collarbone that was semi visible through his damp shirt. I reached up and lightly touched it, my hand shaking a bit. “I’m not seven, I know what a bruise on the collarbone means,” I whispered. 

“Y/n, that’s not a hickey,”

“Then what is it, Jin?” 

      “It’s the result of Jeongguk’s carelessness. He was swinging around his baton, hit me square in the collarbone. Hurt like a bitch,” He grimaced. Jin guided my hand away from the bruise, lifting it to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss. “The only bruise on my collarbone that I want is one that you give me,” He whispered, bringing my hand to cup his cheek. 

      I rose my other hand to rest on chest. I could hear my heart in my ears, beating in a rhythm rivaling the gallop of a horse. “Jin... What are you saying?” I asked. “When you started avoiding me, ignoring my texts and dancing around me at work. It hurt. I realized that without you, I felt like I was missing something important. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself that even if it wasn’t what I wanted, I’d get used to it. But earlier today, when all I could see at every street corner was a happy couple... I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” 

      Jin wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing one of his soft, slightly calloused hand to gently cup my cheek. Even if he was cold, the touch was so undeniably warm. “I really like you Y/n. More than I probably should.” He admitted, “So please, let me kiss you.” 

      Jin lent down, capturing my lips in his soft, plush ones as my knees threatened to buckle. His lips lingered in place, basking in the warmth mine offered. We moved together in an unspoken rhythm, a waltz we created in our own heads as our lips danced together. 

      Jin kissed me like the second he pulled away, the world we had created together behind our closed eyes would melt away, and he would be back shivering in the rain. “I love you too,” He whispered against my lips, kissing me with more fervor after every second. He held me tighter, his wide hands enveloping my waist in a comforting hold. 

      It felt so hot. Whether that was the heat from Jin or the flush from myself, I wouldn’t know. Our bodies melded in a way where you couldn’t tell who was who. Arms wrapped around one another, legs brushing together, lips clashing in a fight to get impossibly closer. 

      After we calmed down and our lungs started to burn, we pulled away. We still held each other close, not willing to part just yet. “I never want to part from you again,” I admitted, resting my head on Jin’s broad chest. “Me neither,” Jin whispered back to me, pressing a kiss on the top of my head. 

      We stood there in silence, holding each other in an embrace that said so much. So many unspoken words of “I’ve wanted this for so long” and “I never want to let go,” communicated through delicate touches and lingering kisses. 

       The man who stole my heart and refused to let it go. The man who reawakened my lost passion for art. The man who taught me that maybe talking is better than letting things wallow in an abyss of self pity, was mine. He was in my arms, kissing my lips, hugging my body. 

And I couldn’t be happier.

      “Let me see,” Jin said, looking over my should at the painting I’ve been working on for the past 2 hours. “Wow, you never cease to amaze me,” He said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was painting the recent bouquet of flowers Jin got me this morning, this one filled with different color peonies. “You’re so sweet,” I chuckled, giving him a kiss back. 

      Jin gave me a smile, his eyes full of admiration and love. “I love you, flower,” He whispered to me. “I love you too,” I whispered back, stealing a chaste kiss from his lips. “Are you going into work tomorrow?” Jin asked. “No, none of my clients need me so I’ll just stay home and paint,” I shrugged, turning my attention back to the canvas.

      Jin watched me paint for a little longer, stealing kisses here and there. It was relaxing to have him so close. “From workaholic to laid back painter,” Jin chuckled, his squeaky laugh pulling a giggle from my throat. “Well, I had someone to show me that it’s okay to have passions,” I said, giving Jin a loving look. “I’m glad,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to my waiting lips. 

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark? (28)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Word Count: 3395

Warnings: swearing, IW emotional trauma, the usual.

Author Note: There is some dialog from Infinity War used in this chapter. I don’t own it, but also there’s new stuff after it so don’t skip it. This is the final chapter. There will be a sequel that I’m not sure when will be posted but it will be coming. If you want to be tagged when it’s posted, let me know! Thank you for reading all of this and giving me so much love on my fist PP story. Let me know what you think of the finale.

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

“Mom have you seen my jacket?” You ask as you walk from the living room back into the kitchen. You’re already dressed in ripped jeans, galaxy converse, and a grey AC/DC shirt.

“Which jacket?” Pepper asks as she stirs the eggs she’s cooking for you.

“My denim one? I wore it yesterday? Or maybe it was the day before?”

“Have you checked your room?”

“I looked there when I was getting ready. I didn’t see it.” Instead of being dressed for the office, Pepper is wearing running gear. “Are you going into the office today?”

“In a little bit. Your dad wants to go to the park for a run first.”

“Dad running? Since when?”

“I think your birthday is making him feel O-L-D.” Pepper teases as Tony walks down the stairs.

“I can still spell even if I’m getting old.” Tony responds. In his hand he’s holding your Rolling Stones jacket. “You left this on the stairs kiddo.”

“Oh, right! I meant to take it up last night.” You shrug it over your shoulders before sitting down at the food that Pepper made for you.

“What’s with the pep in your step today?”

“Field trip. I don’t have to be at school today.”

“Field trip?” Your dad asks as he sits down next to you. “Where to?”

“MoMA. My art class is going.”

“Ah so you and the young Parker are getting out of school to go look at art. How sweet.” Your dad says with a teasing tone remembering how Peter ended up in your art class after switching in in the second six weeks. “With how much it cost for you to go to that school, I would think you would spend more time at school than on field trips.”

“It’s educational. I promise.”

“Sure it is.”

“What your dad is trying to say is have fun.” Pepper says with a laugh. “He and I are going to go so can you lock up when you leave with Happy?” You nod. “Perfect. Have fun, love you, see you after school.”

“Love you kiddo.” Your dad kisses the top of your head. Pepper places a kiss behind him. You munch on your toast as they walk towards the door. Today should be a fairly normal day, apart from the field trip.

“Slow down, slow down. I’ll spell it out for you.” Tony tries to get Pepper to listen as he tries to explain his dream from last night while they walk through the park together.

“You’re totally rambling.”

“No I’m not.” Tony throws back in his own defense.

“You lost me.”

“Look, you know how you’re having a dream, and in the dream you gotta pee.” Tony ties his jacket around his shoulders as he says this.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. And then you’re like ‘Oh my God. There’s no bathrooms. What am I gonna do? Oh, someone’s watching.’”

“Right.”

“‘Oh, I’m gonna go in my pants.’”

“And then you wake up and in real life you actually have to pee.” Pepper catches his drift.

“Yes.” Tony’s hand waves in agreement.

“Yeah. Everybody has that.”

“Right that’s the point I’m trying to make. Apropos of that, last night I dreamt we had a kid.”

“We have a kid. Y/N.” Pepper points out with a smile.

“No like a baby.” Tony explains. “It was so real. We named him after your eccentric uncle. Uh what was his name? Morgan! Morgan.”

“Right. So when you woke up…”

“Naturally.”

“...and thought we were…”

“Expecting.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes?”

“No.” Pepper smiles at him as she says it.

“I had a dream about it. It was so real.”

“If you wanted to have another kid, you wouldn’t have done that.” Pepper unties the sweater and taps on the nanoparticle home.

“I’m glad you brought this up, ‘cause it’s nothing. It’s just a housing unit for nanoparticles.”

“You’re not helping your case, okay?”

“No, this is detachable. It’s not a…”

“You don’t need that. Y/N didn’t need you to get that. I didn’t need you to get that. Your family needs you to put them first sometimes ok?”

“I know. I had the surgery. I’m just trying to protect us and future usses and that’s it. Just in case there’s a monster in the closet. Instead of, you know…”

“Shirts.”

“You know me so well.”

“God.”

“You finish all my sentences.”

“You should have shirts in your closet.”

“Yeah, you know what there should be? No more surprises. We’re going to have a nice dinner tonight. Hear all about Y/N’s field trip. Show off this Harry Winston. Right?” Pepper chuckles at his antics. “And we should have no more surprises. Ever. I should promise you.”

“Yes.”

“I will.” Tony leans in to kiss Pepper. “Thank you.”

“Tony Stark?” Pepper pulls away at the sound of someone calling Tony’s name. Tony on the other hand can only roll his eyes because this was exactly the kind of thing he was talking about. “I’m Doctor Stephen Strange. I need you to come with me.” Pepper grabs Tony’s hand at this. “Oh and uh congratulations on the wedding, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, are you giving out tickets to something?”

“We need your help. It’s not overselling it to say that the fate of the universe is at stake.”

“And who’s we?”

“Hey Tony.” Bruce appears by Stephen’s side, shocking both Tony and Pepper after so much time without him.

“Bruce.”

“Pepper.”

“Hi.”

“Oh.”

“Are you ok?” Tony asks as Bruce falls into hugging him. What has happened while he was away?

“Ready for this field trip?” Peter asks as he sits down next to you on the bus.

“I’m always ready. Getting out of school for the day? Hell yeah.” You nudge your boyfriend’s shoulder. “Are you ready to see MoMA?”

“I guess so. I haven’t been since Ben died so…” Peter trails off.

“Babe, you haven’t been to MoMA since then? Why?”

“Ben really liked seeing the new exhibits and he would take me with him when he went. It just felt wrong to go without him.” Peter explains as the bus takes off from MSST and heads towards MoMA. “But there’s a first time to do stuff since you lose people I guess.”

“It’s going to be fine. I’ll be with you the whole time.” You say as you take his hand in yours. Peter leans forward on the seat in front of you so he can look in your direction.

“Well that will make everything better.” Suddenly the hairs on Peter’s arm stand straight up.

“What?” 

“Something’s wrong.” Peter mumbles. “Spidey senses are off the wall.” His voice is no louder than a whisper.

“Something like a giant donut spaceship floating over NYC seem off enough?” You say pointing towards the window beside him. He turns to look and the recognition on his face tells you all you need to know. Looks like Peter may not be on the field trip after all.

“Can you and Ned create a distraction?”

“Of course. But you’ll be safe?”

“Always am.” He kisses you on the lips really quick before you tap Ned on the shoulder. Ned spins around to look at you. 

“Guy in the chair needs to distract everyone with me.” You say quickly, but as Ned turns he sees the ship out the window.

“Holy shit.” He then turns towards the back of the bus and yells, “We’re all gonna die! There’s a spaceship!” You follow him towards the back of the bus as people start calling out asking what’s going on. But your eyes catch Peter’s one more time before he opens the emergency exit window with his web shooter. While everyone else is watching the spaceship, your eyes are trailing out the back of the bus as Peter jumps off the bridge. You know he’ll web himself to safety, but it makes your stomach fall to your toes every time.

Peter swings into the park where he sees a big angry alien… if he had to guess, swinging a sword/ax at Tony. So he does the one thing he knows how to do, he grabs it. “Hey man. What’s up Mr. Stark?” 

“Kid where did you come from?”

“Field trip, to MoMA.” Peter screams as he’s thrown in the other direction. “Uh what is this guy’s problem Mr. Stark?”

“Uh he’s from space. He came here to steal a necklace from a wizard.” As the alien throws cars around and Tony tries to laser him, Peter webs the car and swings it back at the alien. Which might just make him more angry, but that’s half the fun. Right as the alien swings his ax down again, a red object zooms by. “Kid that’s the wizard, get on it.”

“On it!” Swinging across New York, he finally grabs the wizard when a blue light grabs the wizard and pulls them both up towards the sky. “Uh, Mr. Stark, I’m being beamed up.”

“Hang on kid!” Wong traps the alien in an icy tundra, slicing off the hand that reaches up towards them. “Wong you’re invited to my wedding.” Tony shouts before jetting off to rescue his daughter’s boyfriend, who happens to be climbing up the side of the alien spaceship. “Give me a little juice FRIDAY. Unlock 17:A.” His boots morph together to form one big foot thruster. “Pete you gotta let go. I’m gonna catch you.” He says over the comms to Peter.

“But you said save the wizard.” Peter pulls his mask off as he says, “I can’t breathe.”

“We’re too high up. You’re running out of air.” If your boyfriend dies in space, you might kill your dad, so he’s going to do everything he can to save the kid.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Peter’s hands slip from the ship as he runs out of air. But the Iron Spider suit Tony had been working on arrives just in time to grab hold of Peter and save him from falling back to Earth. Instead he just hits the ship a time or two before having air to breathe again. Peter grabs a hold of the ship and stands back up. “Mr. Stark, it smells like a new car in here!”

“Happy trails, kid. FRIDAY send him home.”

“Yep.” A parachute deploys and pulls Peter off the ship.

“Oh come on!” As Tony cuts into the side of the ship, FRIDAY alerts him of something else.

“Boss incoming call from Miss Potts.”

“Tony are you alright? What’s going on?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I just think we might have to push our 8:30 res.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause I’ll probably not make it back for a while.”

“Tell me you’re not on that ship.”

“Yeah.”

“God, no, please tell me you’re not on the ship.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come back here Tony. I swear to God. I will take Y/N and I will leave for good. No more surprises. You promised.”

“Pep.”

“Come back here right now.” Static starts to crackle. “Come back.”

“Boss we’re losing her.”

“I’m going too…” Pepper’s voice breaks off as the call drops. While Tony is dealing with this call, Peter is climbing up his webs, back onto the ship he had been told not to be on. 

All he can mutter is “I should have stayed on the bus,” as the doors shut on the ship.

The ship is no longer in the sky. You watched it fly away. But you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, because now you can’t get a hold of your dad or Peter. So you call the one person who has always had to be in the same position as you- you call your mom.

“Y/N? Are you ok?”

“Mom tell me Dad didn’t do something stupid and get on that ship.” Your school group is starting to walk into the first exhibit hall, but you need reassurance right now, not art pieces. Pepper doesn’t say anything for a moment, trying to figure out how to tell you that your dad is on that ship. “He’s on that ship isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? Why would he be stupid enough to get on an alien space ship?”

“Because he’s stupid enough to think that saving the world falls on his shoulders and his alone.”

“I think Peter might have been stupid enough to think that too.” You say as soon as you know your class is out of hearing range.

“What?”

“I’ve tried calling him and he’s not picking up.”

“I thought he was on the field trip with you?”

“He was until he saw an alien ship in the sky. Then he decided that he needed to be a superhero. And now he won’t pick up the phone and he always picks up the phone, even when he’s in his suit.” You voice the concerns you’re having. “And my calls to Dad aren’t going through either which makes me think that Peter is with him.”

“He wouldn’t be stupid enough to take a fifteen year old with him on a space ship.” Pepper tries to reassure you.

“But just because he doesn’t take Peter doesn’t mean that Peter isn’t stupid enough to follow him.”

“Sounds like we both need to date smarter men.”

“They’re book smart. I’m just not sure if they’re life smart.”

“I think I’d agree with that.”

“But we also love them too much to let them go.”

“That’s also true.” Pepper doesn’t comment on the fact that you just admitted that you love Peter. “But I also know that your dad will do anything to keep Peter safe if he’s with him. So you just focus on your school trip and at the end of the day, they’ll all come home safe.” Pepper’s promise doesn’t hold much truth to it, but you know your mom is trying to calm you more than anything. “I’m going to send Happy to pick you up from the museum and bring you to SI.”

“Right now?”

“No, but he’ll be there to pick you up when everyone heads back to school.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll just head back to school and then he can pick me up from school. But Mom, if you hear from Dad, can you tell him I love him?”

“He knows you love him.”

“But I didn’t say it to him this morning and if something happens to him…” You feel the tears welling in your eyes.

“Nothing is going to happen to him. He knows you love him.”

“You don’t know that. Every time he walks out the door to play Avenger, he could leave and not come back. He could die out there today. And I couldn’t take the two seconds it would have taken to tell him I loved him this morning.” The tears drizzle down your face as you mutter the words you feel in your soul. Out of the corner of your eye you see Ned waiting by the door leading to the next exhibit area. You wipe the tears from your cheeks. “So just if you hear from him tell him ok, Mom?”

“I will. Now just for now, don’t think about all of this. Just focus on the field trip and I’ll see you after it ok? Everything is going to be ok.”

“Mom? I love you.”

“I love you too Y/N. So much.” You hang up the phone and Ned walks over.

“Everything alright?”

“No, but the universe doesn’t usually ask me before it makes it’s decisions.”

“Have you heard from Peter?” You shake your head. 

“I can’t get a hold of him or my dad. My mom said my dad is on that donut that flew out of the sky, which makes me think if I can’t get a hold of Peter…”

“He’s on it too.” Ned finishes your thought. “Peter’s in space with Iron Man. That’s so cool.” Ned mumbles but then sees your face. “Ok, not the point right now. What’s our plan?”

“We don’t have one. We’re not Avengers. We just wait around until the rest of them hopefully show up.” And you do what you hope is the next best step, you text your aunt- SOS.

N:Don’t worry. Avengers are on it. Focus on school. 

Why does everyone think you’ll be able to focus on anything when your dad and boyfriend disappeared on an alien spaceship? 

Y:you all think i’m going to be able to focus on learning when my dad and boyfriend have just gone missing? that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard of coming from two of the smartest women i know.

N:I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but this isn’t on your shoulders. The Avengers will take care of this fight. I promise you, we’ll get them back. Anyway we have to.

“Anything?” Ned asks quietly, as your tour guide goes on pointing out different pieces of art. You shake your head.

“Apparently it’s an Avenger problem, not a me problem, according to Aunt Nat.”

“It’s still cool that you can just text Avengers.”

“Ned, my dad is literally an Avenger. It loses the coolness factor when your dad leaves on missions and you don’t know if he’ll come back alive or not.”

“That’s true I guess.” He looks at the art piece next to you. “But still you get to text the Black Widow! Isn’t that cool?”

“She’s just my Aunt Nat. I’ve hung out with her watching horror movies and talking about crushes. It feels different than saying I text the Black Widow.” You glance over at the statue, trying to take it in so you can write your report when you get home.

“They could have tried to put at least one blemish on it.” MJ mutters and you nod in agreement.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Ned?” You turn from MJ to see Ned staring at his hand. It’s turning to dust in front of his eyes. “Ned, what’s happening?”

“I think something’s wrong.” His other hand starts to turn into dust and you don’t understand. 

“What is happening?”

“Something that can’t be good.” MJ says and you turn to see her hands turning to dust as well. “Y/N, something is wrong. Really wrong.” Your friends are turning to dust in front of your eyes. You can’t stop it, you can’t figure out what’s wrong. So you do the one thing you know to do when something is wrong- you call your mom.

“Y/N? Please tell me you’re not turning to dust too?”

“Mom, I don’t get what’s happening.”

“I don’t know either. But something isn’t right.” Your mom sounds stressed and worried at the same time you lift a hand to run through your hair and that’s when you see it. Your hand is disappearing before your eyes.

“Mom. Mom, I’m scared. My hand, it’s going.”

“Y/N, everything is going to be alright. It’s going to be ok.” Pepper doesn’t tell you that she has tears streaming down her cheeks. She needs to stay calm for you. You’re the one fading into nothing. She can stay calm for you in this moment. 

“Mom, Mom. I don’t want to go. Please. I don’t know what’s happening. Mom, please make it stop.” Pepper closes her eyes as she listens to your pleads.

“It’s going to be alright sweetheart. Everything is going to be ok.” You watch in horror as Ned fades into nothing but a pile of dust.

“Mom, Ned’s gone. MJ’s seconds away from going. I don’t want to go too. Please make it stop.”

“Everything is going to be alright baby. Just breathe. Everything is going to be ok.” Pepper lies to you.

“Mom, I love you. Tell Dad I love him too. I don’t want to go. Tell him that. I never wanted to go. Having you two as parents was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Your eyes look in horror as MJ turns into dust too.

“We feel the same about you.”

“I love you. I love you so much Mom. I’m sorry. I don’t want to go. I love you.”

“We love you too.” Pepper knows she only has seconds left with you so she wants to make sure you know this before it’s too late.

“I love yo-”

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[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Bonus Chapter 6

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 9,761

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Ice chips.

A whole paper cup full of them.

This was my current mission. My purpose. My whole reason for existence in this one very specific moment in time.

For if every wholesome, family-friendly sitcom from the 90s were to be believed, ice chips were like crack to women in labor - they just couldn't get enough of the stuff.

Why? No one knows, least of all me… okay, maybe doctors knew but if they did, not a single one had yet to clear up that little mystery for me.

The why didn't really matter anyway. All that mattered is that Rayne wanted them. And what Rayne wanted, Rayne got.

Especially when she was about to shove a brand new tiny person through her body and out into the world any second now.

...at least, in theory anyway.

I thanked the attendant at the nurse station and turned with the freshly secured cup of ice chips in hand, heading down the hospital wing back in the direction of Rayne's room in the delivery ward. As I hurried along, I anxiously ran my free hand down my frazzled braid, grimacing at all the little wisps coming loose before shifting to smooth my fingers along my rumpled dress that I'd been wearing since yesterday. Turning one last corner, my eyes immediately went to Rayne's door-

-only to be brought up short by the sight of fluffy, squishy, huggable reindeer plushie nearly twice my size already waiting politely outside it.

Well there was something you don't see every day.

It only took me a second to spot the shoes poking out underneath that had to belong to whoever was holding the thing from behind where I couldn't see them. I squinted.

I knew those shoes.

With a tiny, tired smile, I put one foot forward once more and approached the giant stuffed caribou with a lightly teasing, "If you're looking for the North Pole, you're off by about a couple thousand miles, Prancer. Or is it Blitzen?"

"Har, har. You're an absolute riot," came a voice from the other side of the massive doll. Though I couldn't see the eye roll, I could distinctly hear it in his tone.

Shaking my head with a soft snort, I dug my phone out of my pocket to check the time. "...1 p.m. already? Can't believe she's been in labor for nearly twenty-one hours." Twenty-one extremely long, extremely sleepless hours for the mother-to-be, not to mention all her loved ones here to support her. Tucking the phone away once more, I told him, "Thanks again for covering my early shift, I really appreciate it. Hope it wasn't too hectic of a morning over at the Ice Palace."

"Hey, don't mention it," Kristoff poked his blonde head up just over the plushie's shoulder. "If it's a choice between the two of us, it's no contest: Rayne'd much rather have you here with her than me." He paused, eyeing the closed door leading into her hospital room with a tiny frown. "...so, still no baby, huh?"

"Still no baby," I sighed, then tipped my head to one side. "Care to explain the reindeer? I didn't even know we made Svens in this size."

"We don't," he shifted his hold on the thing for a better grip. "We got a small batch to try and sell as a test run last year, but no one was really buying 'em. Still had a couple stowed away in back just gathering dust, so got the okay from Frozone to steal one for welcoming the new little Hewley into the world."

A grin pulled at my lips, "How sweet. I'm sure Rayne will love it." I then quirked an eyebrow at him. "...why were you just standing outside with it anyway? You know you could have just walked on in, right?"

His gaze darted to the door once again, then back to me. "...is the yelling still happening?" he whispered with a nervous little wince.

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes as I deadpanned, "It's the beautiful blessed miracle of life, Kristoff. Rayne's allowed to yell as much as she wants. Now come on, there's already one baby on the way, we don't need you being a big old second one." With that, I reached for the door knob, pushed it open and made my way inside.

And straight into the madhouse that was Rayne's hospital room.

"You did this to me, you bastard! I'm gonna KILL you for this, you smug son of a bitch!"

Ah, and there was Rayne now, shrieking her head off.

To be fair, if you'd been in labor for nearly a full day now, you'd probably be shrieking your head off too.

"Yes, hon."

And that'd be Riku, the absolute picture of patience and composure as he smiled lovingly through the abuse, both verbal and physical as Rayne's death grip just had to be murder on his hand right now. But he was soldiering through it like a champ.

Huffing and puffing, Rayne spat, "Don't you 'yes hon' me with that stupid, sexy, annoying, beautiful, infuriatingly perfect little grin of yours, pal! When I'm through with you, you won't have anything to grin about!"

"Yes, hon," he chuckled softly, gently sweeping a few of her messy bangs out of her face before pressing a light kiss to her sweaty temple.

"Oh-ho, no! None of that!" she snarled, narrowing her eyes at him. "It's stuff like that that started this whole damn mess, jerkface!"

"Yes, hon."

We were all handling being included in this special moment in Rayne's life a bit differently, each doing what we could to keep her happy and distracted from the contractions. As could be seen, Riku was doing his part by being a flawless model husband/punching bag combo. Sora-

"What does every moogle need in the morning?"

Sora was trying to make her laugh.

"A kup-o coffee!"

...and was doing a rather poor job of it.

As Rayne stared blankly up at him, Sora gave a tiny sheepish laugh from where he stood at the foot of her hospital bed as he scratched the back of his head. "That one was a dud, huh? Okay, okay, how about this one? What do moogles use when they go shopping? ...Kupons!"

More crickets from Rayne. This time accompanied with an unamused little eye squint.

Undeterred, Sora smiled brightly and held up his hands, "Wait, wait, I gotta million of these! What did one cactuar say to the other? ...looking sharp! What does a cactuar wear to a business meeting? ...A cac-tie!" Why did the chocobo cross the road? ...he was going for a wark!"

His new rapid fire approach did not seem to be helping matters.

"Alright, no, hang on, I'm gonna get you with this one for sure! You ready? Okay… Knock knock."

Rayne's eye twitched. Patting her hand, Riku obliged his cousin with a sigh, "Who's there?"

Barely able to contain his glee now, Sora replied, "Interrupting chocobo."

"Interrupting ch-"

"BWARK!" Sora crowed in delight.

The expecting mother-to-be looked just about ready to hurl the beeping heart monitor at him.

"Look, Ray, look!" Kairi suddenly chimed in, swiftly coming to her boyfriend's rescue as she shoved her phone in Rayne's face. For her contribution in keeping Rayne's mind off the pain, Kairi had elected to sit in the bed with her to provide cuddles and hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of adorable baby animals. "Aren't these little piggy-wiggies the freaking cutest?"

Frowning at the screen, Rayne said flatly, "...they'd look even cuter in the form of crispy bacon on a bun slathered in barbecue."

Kairi gasped in horror, snatching her phone back to hug protectively to her chest, "Not the piggy-wiggies!"

"Sorry, Kai, but I'm starving and they won't let me eat a damn thing until this little bundle of joy gets the hell out of me," she grumbled back.

She pursed her lips to one side, swiping her thumb across the screen several times now, "Guess I'll skip these pics of baby cows and chicks and- you know what? No farm animals at all, how about that?"

Sora was now sidling up along one side of the bed opposite to Riku, both hands covering his face as he went.

Oh dear.

One could only assume this was leading up to his latest attempt to get a laugh out of her and I was almost dreading how the next couple seconds would unfold.

"No frowning. No sad face. Okay?" he muffled out from between fingers as he blindly inched closer to Rayne. "This birth runs on happy faces, so ya gotta look funny… like me!" He suddenly threw his hands out wide to reveal he was wearing a pair of gag glasses, complete with a comically large plastic nose and mustache. "I-"

Rayne yelped in surprise and socked him in the stomach.

Yup. That'd gone about as well as I'd expected.

And correction… it seemed the role of punching bag would now be played by Sora.

Quite literally.

Eyes growing round as she clasped both hands over her mouth, Rayne said, "Oh god, Sora, you okay? I'm so sorry, but you scared the everliving crap out of me!"

"No, no, it's fine," he wheezed out a chuckle, doubling over and clutching at his gut while Kairi shot him a sympathetic pout as she rubbed his shoulder. "You're bringing a new little life into the world, so you get a free pass!"

Smothering his snickers behind a hand, Riku shook his head at him, "Where did those ridiculous things even come from?"

"These?" Sora held up the gaudy spectacles. "Saw 'em in the hospital gift shop and thought everyone might get a kick outta them."

"Or at least a punch," Kairi teased, sticking her tongue out.

Kristoff and I hadn't been spotted yet. Sensing an opening as the rest of them devolved into light laughter, I was just about to insert myself into the conversation when-

"Beep beep, coming through! Move it or lose it!"

Jolting, I just barely jumped out of the way in time to narrowly avoid getting steamrolled by Anna as she suddenly came charging into the room. Her arms were stacked so high with hospital pillows that she couldn't really see past them, so I suspected she had no clue that she'd just beeped-beeped her own sister.

Yesterday when we'd been racing our way back to Twilight Town, I'd called Anna to make sure she'd heard the news that Rayne had gone into labor. Since we still had had several hours left on the road to go yet before we'd be back and I'd been worried about missing the birth, I'd wanted to make sure that Anna could at least be there in my stead. However I discovered I needn't have even asked, for my sister had already been burning rubber out of Arendelle to get to Twilight Town herself even before I'd called. Thankfully we'd arrived with time to spare - plenty of it, as it was turning out. And bonus, I'd been getting to personally witness Anna's own unique brand of pitching in... that is, by doing anything and everything in her power to make sure Rayne was as comfortable as humanly possible.

Which to Anna apparently meant stealing every last pillow in this medical institution to offer up as tribute to Rayne.

"Ta-da!" she chirped as she dumped the tiny mountain of cushions onto Rayne's bed with a big, delighted grin. "I'm back with a whole friggin' variety this time, so pick your poison! I got soft ones, firm ones, big ones, small ones, some as big as your- you know what? Do you wanna go with all of them? Let's go with all of them! Sound good? Good!" With that, she began gently but eagerly stuffing them one by one behind Rayne's head.

"Anna, sweetie… do you think we're maybe approaching the point of too many pillows here?" Rayne delicately asked, shifting her back slightly against the already substantial collection behind her that Anna had managed to amass in the past several hours.

She wrinkled her nose with a snerk, "What? Nonsense, there's no such thing as too many pillows! And I think you'll be singing a different tune once you get a load of this puppy here," she proudly held up and fluffed a particularly plush looking pillow. "This right here is the Holy Grail of hospital pillows! I earned this bad boy too! Had to throw down with some greedy, wrinkly old fart who was trying to horde all the good bedding for himself!"

"Let me get this straight… you beat up an elderly old man and stole his pillow?" Riku gave her a dull look.

"I didn't beat him up! Just… got in a bit of a tussle, that's all," she brushed off with a tiny shrug. At all the blank stares she received, she huffed, "What, he was crotchety and mean and fought dirty, kept whacking me with his cane! The old coot friggin' deserved it!" She turned her head away with a razz of her tongue before her face lit up once more. "Besides, nothing but the best for the soon-to-be mommy, isn't that right, Ray-Ray?" she cooed as she fondly tucked "the Holy Grail" of hospital pillows (which was the last of her latest haul from all her ransacking and pillaging) behind Rayne. Then she clapped her hands together, "Now! Be right back with more in a jiff!"

Before Anna could dash off again however, Rayne snagged her wrist with a hasty, "No!" As my sister glanced back at her, Rayne winced and lowly hissed her way through what looked to be another contraction before blowing out a relieved puff and exhaustedly chuckling, "The thought's appreciated, sweetpea, really, but try as you might, I just don't think we can quite cram the hospital's entire supply of pillows in this one teeny room."

"But-"

"Ah-ah!" she interrupted her protest, holding up a finger. "Trust me, I'm good. 'Sides, if you keep going at this rate, soon there'll be no room left on the bed for me."

The corners of Anna's lips turned down in a tiny sulk. "I suppose you're right," she hung her head as her hands smoothed over Rayne's bedsheets, flattening any wrinkles. Then she froze mid-gesture, face brightening once again as she looked up with a delighted little intake of breath. "I can get you more blankets! So many blankets! All the blankets!"

"What?! Anna, no, I'm not even-"

But my sister had already blurred out of the room with nothing more than a quick, "Hi, Sis! Bye, Sis!" to me. She didn't even acknowledge Kristoff. Don't think she saw him behind the caribou.

"...cold," Rayne finished with a defeated sigh. Then she seemed to notice me for the first time. More specifically, what I was holding. She immediately perked up, "Ah, there she is! C'mere, oh Great Bringer of Ice! My Ice Babe, my Ice Queen, my Ice Goddess!" She stretched out her arms towards me, making grabby hands. "Gimme!"

Ah, my role in keeping Rayne happy.

Which if it hadn't been obvious already, that greeting should have just made it abundantly clear.

This was actually my first time being present for the birth of somebody's child. And if I was being totally honest here, I had to admit that the experience did make me a bit awkward and anxious. Gussy it up however you like, but the "miracle of childbirth" was some animal kingdom nonsense that I'd normally rather take no part in. It was all just so... er… messy. But this was an important day for Rayne and I wanted to be there for her. Which meant I just had to do what I did for all important things that made me awkward and anxious.

I let it go and did them anyway.

Taking in a breath to quell my jittery nerves, I braved a smile as I approached her bedside and held out the cup which she greedily snatched up. "Got it back here as quick as I could, hopefully it didn't have a chance to melt too much."

Popping a few frozen chips into her mouth, she closed her eyes with a contented hum. "Ahhhh, that's the stuff! You always treat me right, boo! Keep the good shit coming."

"D'aw," I grinned softly, reaching out to lightly pat her cheek, "you make me feel like I'm your drug dealer."

"Don't act like you don't like it," she crunched down on the ice with a cheeky little wink before digging a few more out of the cup to slip between her lips. Then she looked past me and went stock still. She blinked once. Then twice. Then, "...um?"

I glanced back to realize she just now seemed to be noticing the comically large, dopey reindeer in the room. How she hadn't spotted it sooner was beyond me. In any case, I cleared my throat and stage whispered, "Pssst… Kristoff!"

"Right." Taking that as his cue, he started jauntily bouncing forward with the thing, making it do a floppy little jig in the process. Remaining hidden behind the colossal doll the whole time, he adopted a deep, goofy voice to speak for the plushie, "Hello, my name is Sven and I'm gonna be your new lil gal's bestest friend! I'll make sure to give her all the snuggles and huggles and wub she'll ever need!"

For a second, Rayne's expression was unreadable as she just continued to stare at the thing's big, silly face. Then she burst into tears.

Fudge, was this a good crying or a bad crying?

With all the drastic mood swings she'd been experiencing since labor started, it could really go either way at this point.

Everyone began to scramble. Riku was murmuring softly to her as he caressed her cheek, Kairi was frantically trying to pull up what she was claiming to be an absolutely adorable picture of a dog and duck that were besties, and Sora was desperately shooting off lame, punny jokes so fast now that the punchlines were getting all jumbled and mashed together into pure gibberish. However it all turned out to be unnecessary as Rayne suddenly wailed, "Oh my god, I love him!"

Whew, okay, this was a good crying.

False alarm, people, stand down.

"Really?" Kristoff stuck his head up from behind the deer, flashing a lopsided smile.

She nodded her head vigorously, sniffling. "He's perfect for our baby girl! And good news! You've officially just been hired as our full-time nanny!"

He gave a bashful chuckle as he found a corner to deposit Sven in, "Shucks, you don't hafta-" But then he stiffened as her words really sunk in. "Wait, what?"

"Yup! Don't worry, I'll talk to the Ice Palace for you so they'll work your shifts around it. Ah, we're gonna have the happiest kid in the whole wide universe now that she's going to have her own talking, dancing, prancing reindeer to play with every day!" she clapped in glee.

"Every-" Kristoff spluttered and paled. "Now hang on, I never agreed to any of-"

"Da-dun da-dun! Candygram!" a new voice loudly sang out. We all turned to discover Lea now standing in the doorway, grinning like a madman with his arms loaded down with junk food. Way, way too much junk food.

"Good lord, where on earth did all that come from?" was the only greeting he got from me as both eyebrows shot up my forehead.

He shrugged, grin somehow defying all odds to stretch even wider. "Raided the nearest couple o' vending machines and picked the things clean. Hope all you boys and gals are famished cuz tonight we feast like Candyland kings! And you get a chocolate bar!" he tossed one to me, which I fumbled to catch before sensing Rayne's gaze narrowing on me and I hastily hid it behind my back. "And you get a chocolate bar!" This one went to Kristoff. "And you and you and you!" Sora, Kairi, Riku. "Annnnnd…" Lea stopped mid-throw to Rayne, smirking as he retracted his hand. "...not you cuz the Doc said that was a big fat no-no for you, Missy! Guess that just means more for me," he smugly singsonged as he made his way further into the room now.

Nostrils flaring, Rayne growled, "You are such an asshole, Red."

"One," he struck up a finger as he unceremoniously plopped down into a chair against the wall opposite of her, letting all the sweets pile up in his lap, "that's just part o' my roguish charm and you know it. Two, you said a naughty word." He tsked with a shake of his head as he began to peel the wrapper off a Snickers. "Now is that any way for a young lady who any second now is gonna be responsible for molding a young, impressionable mind of our future generation should be talking?"

"Fuck off," she spat out.

"That's more like it!" he laughed, toasting her with the candy bar before heartily taking a bite.

And this, my friends, is how Lea was doing his part to help distract her from the pain.

By being a royal pain in the butt himself.

Fighting fire with fire, as it were.

"Mm-mm-mm!" Lea hummed, putting on a show of enjoying his snack a little too much. "The way that chocolate just melts in your mouth and mingles with all that sweet caramel and peanuty goodness… golly, would I hate to be anyone who's not allowed to eat right now," he slyly broke off another piece between his teeth as he eyed Rayne.

She mutedly worked her jaw for a moment. Then in a dangerously low voice, she said, "Sorry, Elsa, but I'm sending your boyfriend to an early grave."

"Please don't. I'm actually rather fond of the little troublemaker," I snorted as I made my way over to him, quick to smother his mouth with my hand even as he opened it to spout off something else that would surely only tighten the proverbial noose even further around his neck.

I anticipated the little kiss he pressed to the inside of his palm. What I didn't anticipate, however, was him simply taking hold of my wrist and yanking my down into his lap (a rather awkward seat, mind you, considering I was sharing the space with all that candy) where he hugged me tightly, pinning my arms to my sides in the process so I could no longer silence him. Nuzzling his nose to my cheek, he then turned his head to regard Rayne once more as he chirped, "Just consider it incentive! Think about it: the sooner ya squeeze that kiddo out, the sooner ya get to throttle me! Now lessee here, where was I…"

Releasing his hold on me, he retrieved another bar from the heap, tore it open and chomped down. "Mmm… Almond Joy? More like Almond Nirvana! Seriously, this is too good. Raindrop, wanna bite?" he held it out towards her, giving it a little wiggle with an impish gleam to his eyes.

Pretty sure I could see a vein bulging on her forehead for a split second. Then she tried to lunge straight for him and it was only thanks to the combined efforts of Riku, Kairi, and Sora holding her back that she stayed put in her bed.

It seemed Lea was playing his part a little too well.

"Lemme at him, I'm going to murder him!" she snarled as she fought against all the hands restraining her.

"Ah-ah," Lea waggled a finger at her - a finger I hastily grabbed and forced him to lower in a futile attempt to keep him from antagonizing her further. "What did I just tell ya? Baby first, then murder."

Rayne's lips parted, a particularly nasty retort surely on the tip of her tongue, but then she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as it appeared another contraction wracked her body and she bellowed out wordlessly instead.

As if her howl was a summons, a new person suddenly came bustling into the room with a chipper yet soothing, "Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."

Mind you, I was using the term "person" in the loosest sense of the word. Baymax here was actually a robot of some kind, though a rather odd one at that - I usually didn't picture robots as big, round, soft and inflatable. Then again, this was the first robot I'd ever met, so what did I know? It seemed it (he?) was some sort of prototype on loan to the hospital, making rounds in the role of a nurse as a sort of a test run to see how viable mass producing more like it (him?) might be.

The future is now, apparently.

"Yes, yes, so you keep saying every. Damn. Time that you come in here," Rayne panted out in reply to the bot, her grip firmly squeezing Riku's hand once more.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?" Baymax asked amiably as he began to lift her blankets to check how far along she was while the rest of us discreetly averted our eyes.

She huffed out a bitter noise that may have been some crude approximation of a laugh. "Trust me, we left ten in the dust hours ago."

"Good news" Baymax announced, still in that mellow yet upbeat tone he seemed to be programmed to never deviate from as he settled her bedsheets back into place. "You are dilated enough now to begin the birthing process. I'll page Dr Finkelstein so we can get started right away."

"Oh thank fucking god!" Rayne cried out.

Baymax turned to address the rest of us, "If everyone besides the father-to-be could please vacate the room and give us privacy, it would be most appreciated. Thank you and have a nice day."

As the rest of us quickly filed out of the room into the hall, I could spot Anna turning a corner down the way, her arms bursting with blankets now as she sprinted at full speed. Her gaze widened slightly when it landed on us and as she skidded to a halt, she asked, "What's going on? What happened?"

"I did it!" Lea chuckled triumphantly as he handed her a Butterfingers, which she bemusedly accepted. "I shit you not, I actually did it! I managed to annoy that baby outta her!"

"Huh. We really would make a cute lil anklebiter, wouldn't we?"

I blinked, taking my eyes off my phone screen to glance down at Lea instead. "...pardon?"

The two of us had laid claim to a row of chairs in the waiting room that were sans armrests and pushed together to form a makeshift bench of sorts. I was currently seated in one on the end with Lea sprawled out across the rest of them, using my lap to pillow his head. Looking up from his own phone, he showed me his screen. "Got curious and put our photos in one o' those 'what'll our baby look like' websites. Just lookit this adorable lil fucker."

I was greeted with the sight of a computer-generated yet still rather life-like picture of a little boy. He had short hair that was platinum blonde like mine, as well as my blue eyes, but favored Lea's more sharp angular facial features, especially in the nose. "He is rather cute," I grinned, one hand pocketing my mobile while the other gently stroked his wild hair. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I hesitated for a heartbeat. Then, "...what brought this up?"

Retracting his arm and turning his phone back towards himself so he could stare at the picture once more, he shrugged. "I dunno… Raindrop and Riku's lil squirt's gonna be here any minute… Mom made that comment 'bout the two of us making a kid…" He paused and shrugged again. "Hard not to get curious what with all that baby fever going round right now, I s'pose."

"You think about that kind of stuff?" I tipped my head to one side, my finger idly singling out one of his crimson spikes to fiddle with in particular. "You want children?"

"Well yeah," he laughed, tucking his phone away as he sat up, now only occupying the seat beside me. Grinning sheepishly as he rubbed at the nape of his neck, he added, "Not anytime soon, of course. But one day somewhere down the road with the right person? Definitely."

The corners of my eyes crinkled. There was absolutely zero doubt in my mind that Lea would make an amazing father some day. His words did sort of beg a certain kind of question however. One that I wasn't really sure I was ready to hear the answer to one way or another. Still, as I lowered my gaze to where my hands were fidgeting together in my lap, my face warmed as I couldn't seem to help but ask, "And do you… see me as the right person?"

Lea reached over, engulfing one of my hands in his and weaving our fingers together, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. I lifted my gaze to meet his and he smiled softly, "Maybe… yeah, I'd really… really like to think you could be." He used his free hand to tentatively sweep some of my bangs behind my ear, his palm lingering against my cheek. "...is that okay, El?" he murmured.

He was worried his answer might freak me out, make me feel pressured. And to be fair, it was the type of thing that probably normally would have. However, it wasn't a cold panic I felt seeping into my chest now, but rather a pleasant tingle, tiny but warm. I leaned into his hand, covering his fingers with my own as one corner of my lips turned up and I gave a small nod, maybe surprising us both a little bit as I whispered back, "Yeah, that's okay."

His grin stretched to the point of threatening to split his face in two. Then he leaned down to kiss me soundly, resting his forehead against mine after he drew back.

Personally, I'd never before really pictured children in my future. Not that I had seen myself not having any, but I hadn't particularly seen myself having them either. It just hadn't really been something I'd thought much about, to be honest. And it didn't help that like I said, the whole process of childbirth made me a bit squeamish. But now… thinking about the prospect of maybe one day having them with Lea…

...sounded like it might be nice.

But that was still years and years and years away, trust me.

Still… it was a pleasant possible future to think about.

A deep yawn suddenly overtook Lea and he gave a massive stretch before slouching further down into his seat, slinging an arm around my shoulders and tugging me into his side. "Yeesh, it's been almost two hours now, what is taking that kid so damn long? I've heard of showing up fashionably late, but baby girl is really pushing it."

His yawn was contagious for I found myself doing the same as I reached for his hand. Absently toying with his fingers, I hummed a tiny laugh, "Maybe she stopped to pick up a latte on her way here."

"Well then, that kiddo better come outta Raindrop with a cardboard to-go tray bearing enough coffee for everyone."

I smiled drowsily, but made no response. Seated across from us, I could see my sister cozied up with Kristoff in another pair of seats, quietly chatting and giggling. As for Sora and Kairi, they were off grabbing a bite in the cafeteria. We'd decided to go in shifts so that there would always be someone in the waiting room in case news came at long last. Lea and I had been the first pair to go, with Kairi and Sora being the last.

As the hospital speakers paged a Dr Sweet to report to surgery, Lea piped up again, "Ya know, a lil caffeine infusion might not be a bad idea. The hospital coffee here is shit, may as well be piss for all the good it does. Once the kid's made her grand debut at long last and we can finally split, I was originally thinking we'd head back to my place to catch some Z's. But how 'bout instead we swing by Lucky Cat for some quality bean juice so we can get a jumpstart on moving your stuff over?"

"Move my stuff?" My brow furrowed and I turned my head to look up at him. "...where's it going?"

Lea blinked owlishly at me. I blinked owlishly right back. "Didn't we…?" he began slowly, then groaned, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Shit, I haven't actually brought that up to you yet, have I? Maybe I really do need that nap." His hand shifted down to scratch at his cheek now, "But c'mon now, El, think… the kid's almost here."

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"And she's gonna need a place to sleep," he went on.

"Of course." Obviously. I wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this.

He looked at me pointedly. "...in a nursery."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Right." Still lost here.

His eyelids drooped. "Babe... your room's the nursery."

I just stared back at him blankly, not saying anything at first as my brain took a minute to churn over his words.

A rather long minute.

Give me a break, I'd been awake for close to thirty-four hours straight now.

But finally it clicked.

I gasped, "I need to move out!"

"There it is," he snorted, his hand rubbing my back.

"Crud, in all this flurry of baby chaos, that part completely slipped my mind." I was on my feet in an instant, hands wringing my braid as I began pacing back and forth. "Fudge, I'm entirely unprepared for this! What am I going to do? Where am I going to go?" I stopped momentarily, looking at Lea. He opened his mouth to respond, but I was already furiously pacing once more, muttering, "Well, not entirely unprepared. I of course knew this was coming, already had some of my things packed, been on the hunt for a new apartment, I have, I really have! You know I have!" Again I paused. Again his lips parted. Again, I resumed my patrolling without giving him a chance to speak, "But there's nothing lined up yet! Gah, the baby wasn't supposed to be due for weeks, I was supposed to have more time! But now there is no more time and… and…" I came to a halt once again, face hardening and shoulders squaring as I tapped the side of my fist into my palm with a firm nod. "Time to revisit the whole living in a box idea!"

Did I mention the whole thirty-four hours without sleep thing?

"Woah now, hang on! No one's gonna be living in a box," Lea hopped up with a chuckle, hands going to my shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "Doubt the new happy family would kick ya out just like that and make you homeless, they'd work something out for ya while you looked for a new home." Now his eyes darted to the left as he softly cleared his throat, "There's... another option though that, ya know... I'd like to think is slightly more appealing to all parties involved…"

I cocked my head. "There is?"

"Yeah." He took both my hands in his, holding them to his chest as he beamed, "Move in with me!"

"Move in with…" I echoed slowly, trailing off as I stared up at him.

Processing… processing…

I gasped again, "Oh no! No, we shouldn't- That's isn't- I couldn't possibly do that!"

"Aw, why not?" he pouted.

"Moving in together is a big step, Lea! A huge decision! One we definitely��shouldn't be making spur of the moment like this, not to mention when we're both delirious from lack of sleep! There's so much to consider, so much to think about!"

He used the hold he still had on my hands to pull me to him and wrap my arms around his waist, freeing up his own arms to hug me instead. "What's there to think about? You're already practically living with me anyhow, you stay over almost every night as it is. I'd love to have you there, Bruni and Marshmallow would love to have you there… it's three against one, El, you're outvoted."

I drooped my eyelids up at him. "The dog and salamander don't get votes."

"You'll hafta take that up with them once you're all moved in and settled," he pressed a quick peck to my forehead before flashing a cheeky grin. My expression remained unamused and he snerked, "C'mon, is it really such a big deal? We were just talking 'bout having kids. Compared to that, the idea of shacking up together seems like small potatoes!"

"Yes, theoretical kids in a theoretical future. Me moving in with you is very real and very right now. We haven't even been dating for five months yet, that's way too soon to be living together."

Lea shrugged, "And you were with your ex for five years before almost tying the knot with him and we all know how that ended. Who's to say what's too soon and what isn't? All we can do is what feels right, and this feels right… doesn't it?"

...it actually kind of did.

Damn him, it did.

It didn't help that those beautiful green puppy eyes of his were murder on my resolve.

But my stubbornness flared and I hastily looked away. I wasn't ready to relent just yet and I weakly scrambled to maintain my defense, "But… it's just too soon, Lea. It hasn't even been a year yet, we haven't even… celebrated all the big holidays yet!"

Even as I blurted it out, it sounded lame even to me.

But it was the best I could come up with, dammit!

His eyebrows reached for his hairline and he fought a tiny smile. "...so just to be clear here, it's important to you that we observe all the major holidays in a calendar year together before making any further life-changing decisions."

I hitched my chin with a lofty little sniff. "Yes. Yes it is."

This was the hill was I choosing to die on, apparently.

"Duly noted," he glanced towards the ceiling with a tiny shake of his head before settling his gaze on me once more, eyes crinkling. "Fine, let's not call it moving in together then, call it… a temporary solution."

"...temporary?" I turned my head slightly, giving him some dubious side-eye.

"Mm-hm! Face it, babydoll, even though we both know Raindrop and Riku will be more than happy to accommodate ya, it's still gonna be a tight squeeze with all four of you in that tiny ass apartment while you're searching for a place. Wouldn't it just be more convenient for everyone if temporarily," he reiterated for emphasis, "you stayed with me instead just until you've found your new home? You know there's more than enough space for you and your things at my digs."

I tucked in my bottom lip. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking, but darn it, he actually seemed to be making a lot of sense. Still, I hesitated. "...I don't know what to say."

His eyes lit up. Great. Now the big dork knew he was winning. Hugging me more tightly to him, he grinned, "That's simple: say yes."

I squinted up to him, pursing my lips to the left. Then to the right. Then, just as I was slowly opening my mouth to speak-

-a throat suddenly cleared nearby.

Like, really nearby.

Both Lea and I tensed before turning our heads to discover none other than Saïx standing not two inches away from us looking quite perturbed.

To be fair, Saïx usually looked perturbed. It just seemed to be his face's default setting. But this was more perturbed than usual.

Lea quirked an eyebrow at him, but grinned, "Hey, big guy! Ya mind? Kinda in the middle of something here."

"And I do so hate to interrupt, truly," he said flatly, his cold unblinking gaze locked on his brother, "but I fear we have a rather pressing matter to discuss that cannot wait."

His eyebrows knit together. "...which would be?"

Saïx's hard stare was unyielding. "Do you think there is quite possibly something you may have forgot back at our mother's house?"

Cocking his head, Lea seemed even more genuinely confused now. Clearly racking his brain for a couple seconds, he then shrugged with a small shake of his head, "Like what?"

"ME, you DOLT!" Saïx snarled, slugging Lea in the shoulder hard enough to force a pained grunt out of him.

I inhaled sharply through my nose, eyes widening.

There was no way we'd actually-

We couldn't have honestly-

We didn't-

...did we really?

I thought back to yesterday, though it was a struggle to remember a clear picture through the fog of grogginess. Had Saïx been in the car with us on the trip back? Had he not? Try as I might, I just simply could not remember one way or another. But I suppose it could be (and in fact was) completely possible, especially considering Lea had had Saïx's car keys and I had had his code to start the engine.

In our state of panic and rush to get out of there, had we really just totally spaced on the fact that we didn't have him with us?

"Oh gosh, Saïx, I'm so sorry we left you behind!" I bemoaned in horror.

Lea laughed, "Relax, El, don'tcha know that with me as your boyfriend, that makes everything my fault? You're off the hook, I'm the only one he's mad at."

"He's right, I don't blame you at all." Although Saïx was talking to me, his irked gaze never left Lea. "You're not the one who forgot your own brother."

No, I just simply forgot a whole person. For a whole car ride. In his own friggin' car.

Elsa, Queen of Memory Lapse.

"Bah, I didn't forget ya, I just… thought you were in the backseat the entire time being really quiet!"

That earned Lea another punch to the arm.

Giving an annoyed huff as he rubbed his knuckles, Saïx asked with a bit less bite to his tone now, "I presume since I find you all still here at the hospital, the child has yet to be born?" At our silent nods, he moved to the nearest set of empty chairs and sat down with a soft huff, crossing his arms.

Huh. Guess he was going to join us for sharing Rayne's and Riku's joy in this blessed event.

I gingerly took a seat next to him, Lea plopping down in the chair on my other side. As his arm wrapped around my shoulders, he piped up with a huge smile, "Got some good news that I think'll clear up that black rain cloud hanging over your head there, Mr Grumps McSourpuss: El's moving in with us!"

My back stiffened and I whipped my head around to narrow my eyes up at him, "I haven't said yes yet."

Saïx was eyeing me oddly from the corner of his peripheral. "...you mean you weren't already living with us?"

"There ya have it! Saïx's official stamp of approval! Now ya gotta say yes," Lea beamed, smoothing his hand up and down my arm.

My eyelids drooped. "...one, in what universe was that even remotely a stamp of approval? And two, no, I don't 'gotta' do anything, least of all say yes."

"But you will," he winked at me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. Then he was looking past me towards Saïx once more, a thoughtful frown twisting his lips. "Hey… since we jacked your wheels, how'd you even get back here?"

Saïx fixed him with a dull stare. Then he shifted his crossed arms more tightly against his chest, closed his eyes and hitched his chin. "...wouldn't you like to know."

Lea snerked. "I would in fact, thus why I asked."

"What's that inanely childish saying you do so love to spout of? ...that's for me to know and you to find out?"

"C'mon, man," he groaned out. "This is gonna bug the crap outta me now until ya tell me."

One corner of his lips cruelly curled up. "I know."

Apparently, Saïx was swift to enact his vengeance when the need arose.

A tiny scowl emerged on my boyfriend's face, but before he could shoot off whatever acerbic retort he undoubtedly already had locked and loaded, I stopped him with a touch to his arm as I said, "Lea." He glanced down at me and I nodded towards the far corner of the waiting room. "Look."

He followed my gaze to a familiar woman with silver hair pulled back into a ponytail made of several tiny braids and the same green eyes as Lea. Aranea apparently was not aware that we had just noticed her, for she was too busy inspecting the selection available over at the hospital's coffee station with her nose wrinkled.

"Ah," Lea breathed, gracing his brother with a mildly sour look. "That's how ya got back. Ya bummed a ride outta our old lady."

Saïx said nothing, just continued to stare stoically straight ahead.

Blowing out a breath that made his lips flap, Lea turned his eyes towards his mother once more. A heartbeat of hesitation. Then making a sound that was half growl, half sigh, Lea muttered. "Be right back. Ma and I have some unfinished business." I smiled softly as he planted a smooch to my temple and I gave his hand a quick squeeze before releasing it as he stood up.

I watched Aranea perk up as she spotted Lea approaching. They exchanged a few words that I was too far away to hear, her grinning the whole time, him ruffling his fingers through his hair as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then it seemed they decided to find somewhere else to have their talk for they then walked out of the waiting room.

Off to a good start at least, it seemed. Letting go a tiny exhale of relief, I glanced over at the chairs across from us once more to where Anna sat as I considered possibly shifting over to a seat near her. But seeing as she was currently otherwise, er… occupied with, hrm… inspecting Kristoff's tonsils with her tongue, I decided against it.

Ugh, gross, I did not need to see that.

Instead, I turned my attention to Saïx. My lips parted and I took in a breath to say something, but then I hesitated and clamped my mouth shut, staring down at where I was fiddling with my fingers in my lap. Then I cleared my throat, looked over at him once more and tried again, "Would it... really be okay with you if… if I decided to move in?"

His eyes flicked over to me briefly without turning his head. Then releasing a nearly inaudible sigh through his nose, he stared straight forward once again. "I consider you among a small, select handful of people I can tolerate and would even go so far as to say enjoy the company of. If my asinine fool of a brother has against all odds actually managed to persuade you somehow into agreeing to move in with him, then by all means, your presence on a more permanent basis could only be a considerable improvement on our day-to-day lives around the apartment." He paused and for a second it seemed that was all he had to say on the subject. Then then added a bit more quietly, "Besides, you make my brother happy. Far be it from me to stand in the way of that, even if I wanted to."

A small smile tugged at my lips. "...he makes me happy too."

Saïx gave a low hmph at that, closing his eyes. "I would hope so. Otherwise, what would be the point?"

On that note, the conversation ended. As he seemed more than content to remain in a companionable silence, I reached over the seat Lea had vacated and towards the little table on the other side, plucking up one of the outdated magazines provided by the hospital from it and slowly began flipping through its pages.

A short while later, I heard a door opening and I glanced up to see that Lea and Aranea were walking back into the waiting room. Neither one looked like they wanted to murder each other, so I took that as a good sign. In fact, they almost, almost seemed somewhat chummy.

I set the periodical aside and both Saïx and I rose as they approached, which prompted a chuckle from Aranea, "No need to get up, I'm not staying. Just wanted to give my other knucklehead kid one last hug before hitting the road," she embraced Saïx, which he accepted as stony-faced as ever. Then she turned to me with a sly little smirk, "Plus I hear congrats are in order."

My eyes blinked. "...they are?"

"Course! You two lil lovebirds are gonna be living together soon, after all!"

I twitched, then shot Lea a flat look. "I haven't said yes yet."

He grinned, stepping closer to take my hand and bring it up to his lips. "Key word there: yet."

Oh-ho, he thought he was being cute. Even as I opened my mouth to prove just how wrong he was however, Aranea suddenly snagged me into a bone-crushing bear hug as she chirped, "Take care, shortcake!" She gave me one final squeeze before releasing me to rest a hand on my shoulder, "And if either of my boys give you any trouble, you gimme a call, I'll be only too happy to knock some sense into 'em!"

Smiling, I nodded, "Thanks, I'll be sure to do that. Have a safe trip back."

Lea received a hug from her as well and though he returned it stiffly, it was remarkably warmer than the one they'd shared yesterday in the foyer of her home. With that, she made her way towards the exit, waving goodbye to us over her shoulder before disappearing through the door.

"I take it you two are getting along now," I said to Lea as I settled into my chair once again.

He took a seat too, stretching his arm out along the backrest behind my head. As his fingers began to idly toy with my braid, he pursed his lips to one side in thought. Then, "Ya know how you and your folks 'get along' now?" he brought up his other hand to form air quotes. At my nod, he said, "Well, it's kinda like that. We're… gonna work on it."

I reached for his hands, lacing our fingers together as I told him gently, "I'm glad you decided to give her a chance."

"I think I am too," he admitted, albeit somewhat begrudgingly.

Just then, the same door Aranea had left through opened once more, Sora and Kairi being the ones to step through this time, laughing over something they'd been talking about. It seemed their timing was impeccable, for that was also when the double doors on the other side of the room parted and in walked a very familiar white, inflatable robot. All of us immediately zeroed in on him and were on our feet in an flash as he greeted us with, "Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthc-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know all that already, get to the good part, you giant balloon!" Anna hastily cut him off, rolling her eyes. "Do you actually have anything new to tell us? How's Ray-Ray doing?"

"The delivery was a success," Baymax announced, managing to sound almost pleased somehow despite there being no actual change in the mechanical tone of his voice. "Everyone is happy and healthy. The new family is ready to accept visitors and have welcomed you all back to their room."

There was a mixture of whoops and relieved sighs all around before all of us, Saïx included, followed the robot as he led the way past those doors and towards the maternity ward. Not a minute later found us all crowding back into their hospital room. I spotted Riku first at his wife's bedside, facing her so his back was to us. As for Rayne, she looked absolutely exhausted and like she'd been to hell and back twice, but she positively radiated pure joy and love for the little bundle I could now see her holding in her arms. As she looked up at our entrance, she proudly beamed and said, "Everyone… I'd like you to meet Aria."

"...and Cayde," Riku added, smirking as he turned around to reveal he was cradling a second baby.

"TWO?!" Lea gaped, wide-eyed gaze darting back and forth between them while the rest of us were too stunned to even speak.

"That's right! Two!" Rayne chirped in delight.

Sora was the next one to find his voice, only to blurt out, "Twins?!"

"No, we liked the first one so much, we decided to randomly steal a second one from one of the other cribs when no one was looking," Riku deadpanned before snorting with a shake of his head. "Of course they're twins, doofus."

"But you never said anything about twins," Anna was already adopting a baby voice as she approached Riku, wasting no time making funny faces at Cayde.

Gently rocking little Aria as Rayne watched her fondly, she said, "We didn't know. No one did, not until Cayde shocked us all by showing up hot on the heels of his big sis. Guess the doctors missed him during all those check-ups and sonograms somehow."

"How do they miss a whole other baby inside of you for months?!" Kristoff shook his head in disbelief.

"Who knows, but it's not unheard of. We're not the first couple this has ever happened to." Glancing over to Cayde, Rayne grinned as she reached out a fingertip to tickle the underside of one of his tiny feet. "...he was a surprise, that's for sure, but a happy one."

"I'll say!" Kairi giggled, stepping forward to gently squish Aria's cheeks as she cooed, "This just gives Auntie Kairi and Unkie Sora twice the niblings to wub, doesn't it? Doesn't it? Yes it does!"

"Speaking of which… Kristoff." The man in question stood up straighter as Rayne suddenly locked eyes with him and told him in no uncertain terms, "We're gonna need a second reindeer."

He dragged a hand down the side of his face and sighed. "...I'll talk to Frozone."

Rayne crinkled her nose as she hummed a soft laugh, then her eyes landed on me as I approached her bedside. "Oh, Elsa, there was something I… we," she amended, exchanging a glance and a tiny nod with her husband, "wanted to talk to you about… we'd absolutely love it if you'd be the twins' godmother."

The finger I was waggling at Aria froze as my gaze widened and snapped up to meet hers. "Who, me? Really?" By the look in both the new parents' eyes, they were serious. Dead serious. "Oh! Why, uh… yes. Yes of course! I'd be very honored," I smiled.

"And Sora," Riku chimed in now, causing his cousin to pause mid-sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes at Cayde. "We were hoping you'd be their godfather."

Sora blinded us all with his signature huge, thousand-watt grin. "Absolutely! I'm gonna make the best godfather ever, you'll see! I- wait…" His brow furrowed and he gasped, whipping his head around towards me now with a slight look of panic. "Does… does that make us... god-married?"

"Yes. It does."

And who was it, one might wonder, to deliver that answer in full earnest and with a completely straight face?

Saïx.

That's right. Saïx.

Which is probably why Sora took him at his word and didn't even think to question it. Nostrils flaring and with a steely look of determination now, he informed Lea, "I promise to take good care of her."

Not missing a beat, Lea nodded firmly, "You better, lil man, otherwise I will end you."

I elbowed my boyfriend in the gut, forcing a wheeze out of him. As everyone else sniggered around us, I sighed, "No, Sora, that doesn't make us god-married, it doesn't make us god-anything."

"Oh good! Whew!"

At that point, conversation for the most part subsided in favor of everyone trying to squeeze in to fawn over the new babies. After a minute of this, I decided to take the opportunity to snag Lea (dragging him away from playing with Aria's "widdle toesy-wosies" - his words, not mine) and pull him off to one side of the room away from the others. They hardly even noticed us stepping away, so enamored were they all with the little ones.

I faced him, holding both his hands in mine as I took in a deep breath and released it before uttering a single word. "Yes."

His face immediately lit up, but he quickly schooled his expression and cleared his throat, asking casually, "Yes? Yes what?"

Ugh, he knew very damn well what, he just wanted to hear me say it. Rolling my eyes but unable to fight a small grin, I said, "Yes, I'll move in with you. It just makes sense, after all, now that they have twins, there's even less room for me in their apartment and-"

I didn't get to finish that sentence as he smiled fiercely and grabbed my face, planting a firm kiss to my lips before laughing as he hugged me, picked me up and spun me around.

"Temporarily," I insisted, arms instinctively latching around his neck to steady myself.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, temporarily," he agreed, putting me down while still grinning like an idiot.

I poked his chest a couple times, "I mean it. I'm going to keep looking for my own place and the second I find something, I'm moving right back out."

"Whatever ya say, babydoll!"

Funny thing is though…

...I never did end up actually moving out.

Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Hope you all enjoyed the millions of teeny references I sprinkled in - my aesthetic, as I'm sure you're all aware at this point xP (My fave was something Lea said towards the very end, did you guys catch that it was a reference? I hope so :3) Regarding Sora's lil stand-up comedy act, I unfortunately cannot take credit for any of his material - I just googled a bunch of Final Fantasy jokes xD I can't even take credit for the cactuar jokes for even tho I couldn't find any ACTUAL cactuar jokes out there on the internet, I just googled cactus jokes instead xD And yes, there are IN FACT cactus jokes out there, and a LOT of them lawl! And woo, Lea and his mom made up… sort of! xD Sorry that happened off screen, part of it was I thought it wasn't a conversation that Elsa would really be present for, part of it was I didn't want to take focus off the main points of this chapter, and part of it was I was just too lazy to write it at this time xD Maybe I'll go back at a later date and write a Lea POV chapter for this lil chat with his mum, we'll see! But for now, at least we got a lil closure on that front! And aaaaahhhhh, our ice and fire bbies are taking a big step and moving in together, yaaaaaay! :3 I knew that was definitely a relationship milestone I wanted to cover in one of these bonus chapters and this just seemed like a fun way to bring it about xD

The next one-shot is set during Christmas time! Which I know, lil late, should have posted it today xD But I'd kinda locked myself into the baby chapter with the way the last chapter ended and the babies are born in September, so couldn't combine them into one chapter xD So consider next week's update just a bit of a belated Christmas present! And I'll say this about the next bonus chapter: It's gonna be pure crack xD Trust me, there will be no substance whatsoever, it's just mindless silliness and slightly scandalous and mildly salacious (but still 100% family friendly… ish... haha!). Basically, if PG horny hijinx doesn't interest you, you might wanna skip the next chapter xD You've been warned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[shijiujun]

tell me baby

A gratuitous sick fic for Inspector Qiao, and he finally eats from the spoon Lu Yao offers him because third time’s the charm - Inspired by this gifset

===

It’s a slow day at the station today with all their leads dried up, but Youning and Lu Yao are investigating outside right now and Chusheng doesn’t doubt that the both of them will turn up with new evidence soon enough, if not have the whole case solved when they return at the end of the day.

There isn’t much to do but to sign some papers and ensure everything is properly documented. When Boss Bai first asked him to be Inspector, Chusheng hadn’t quite thought about the ridiculous amount of paperwork that passes through his hands every single day. 

Still, his tasks for the day don’t take much physical activity, but seated in his chair at his table, it takes everything Chusheng has to concentrate.

His limbs are numb for some reason, and every single movement makes some part of his body ache. It’s not like they’re in the deep of winter or even anywhere near autumn, so there’s no reason for him to be feeling this cold.

Exhaling shakily, he wonders just what the hell is wrong with him today.

Chusheng swallows with difficulty, his throat bobbing with the action. Glancing at the empty mug at the corner of his table, Chusheng is certain he just took a large gulp of water, so why is his throat this parched?

“… Inspector? Inspector Qiao?” asks Ah Dou, who’s standing in front of him with a confused look on his face, “Are you… okay?”

He doesn’t feel okay, but Chusheng doesn’t know why he would feel anything but.

“Hnn,” he makes a noise of assent, clearing his throat with a frown. “Just leave it there, I’ll look at it later.”

He’s finding it a little hard to breathe and with frustration, Chusheng tugs at his tie, loosening it. Ah Dou still hasn’t left, staring at him with his brows furrowed.

“What’re you still doing here?” asks Chusheng, leaning into his chair. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yeah but… Inspector, you really don’t look so good,” Ah Dou persists, which is very unlike him. “I think you should go to the hospital if you’re feeling unwell-“

“You’re not usually this nosy,” sighs Chusheng, sounding more tired than reproachful. “I just have a headache. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll get you a cup of warm water then,” Ah Dou says, oddly considerate today, but Chusheng isn’t lying about the headache, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Standing as Ah Dou picks up his mug and starts to walk in the direction of the coffee table where the water flask is, Chusheng begins, “Ah Dou, I don’t need-“

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because he’s keeling over in the next moment, nearly braining himself on the surface of the table if his hip didn’t strike against its edge first, and he lands in a messy pile on the floor instead. The ceiling slants above him, and gosh, he’s so fucking thirsty-

Someone is calling for him, but he can barely hear anything outside of the ringing in his ears. As dark spots fill his vision, Chusheng thinks maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to skip a trip to the hospital yesterday night after that ambush at the docks.

Right before he slips under, all he remembers is promising Lu Yao that he would pay for five baguettes today.

===

“Are you an idiot? Did you not bring your brains out to work today?” is the first thing he hears when he wakes up.

Disoriented, Chusheng blearily surveys his surroundings, dazed. He’s floating a little and everything seems overly yellow and green, and it feels like he’s been asleep for a little too long. He doesn’t usually sleep in, always up at the crack of dawn to train and keep in shape.

Turning to the side slowly, that’s when Chusheng sees San Tu seated in a chair next… next to his bed.

The man looks displeased, his arms crossed over his chest and looking more petulant than angry, and Chusheng knows he’s in trouble.

If he tells anyone that he, Qiao Chusheng, one of the Eight Martial Arts Masters of Shanghai, is a little cowed by Lu Yao’s frown, they would surely laugh at him.

Memories of how he landed in the hospital resurface in his head. Chusheng looks towards the glass pitcher at the bedside table, and luckily Lu Yao isn’t too angry to ignore him. The man pours him a glass of water, before helping him to sit up a little, fluffing the pillows behind his back as Chusheng drinks slowly but liberally, because he’s really, really thirsty.

“How long have you been doing this?” Lu Yao asks then.

Confused, Chusheng blinks, “Doing what?”

“This is just like that time, when Zhi Qing-ge kidnapped me and you rescued me but refused to tell me!” Lu Yao snaps, and Chusheng winces. “At least you went to the hospital then with Youning. Guess what the doctor said to me earlier? That the wound on your right side was infected because you didn’t treat it properly and it was continuously bleeding when it needed stitches!”

“You said you didn’t get hurt in last night’s raid,” Lu Yao says, glaring at him.

“I-“ Chusheng begins, but Lu Yao cuts him off, “And then the doctor says you’ve got other scars on your body that look rather recent, ones that even Youning didn’t know you had. How long has this been going on?”

“San Tu,” Chusheng sighs, “It’s okay. This is nothing-“

“Nothing? Ah Dou freaked out when you fainted on him earlier! What were you thinking? He said you looked unwell all morning and refused to listen to him when he asked you to rest. Qiao Chusheng, do you think this is a joke?”

It’s not the time or place for this, but hearing Lu Yao utter his full name for the first time, Chusheng feels a chill run down his spine. No one has ever dared to call him out like this.

He likes the way his name sounds on Lu Yao’s lips and how angry his San Tu looks right now.

Clearing his throat, Chusheng musters a smile instead, “San Tu… I’m used to this. I just miscalculated and I’ll be more careful next time. Don’t be angry. I’m the patient here, you know.”

“Next time?” Lu Yao asks, incredulous. “You’re thinking of a next time?”

Knowing that Lu Yao will probably go on if he doesn’t do something, Chusheng reaches out and tugs at Lu Yao’s arm until the man sits down quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Chusheng repeats, and frankly, part of him is a little touched that Lu Yao is so angry at him. He’s never had anyone angry at him for something like this.

“San Tu, if you don’t stop yelling, the nurses are going to come in and-“

“Chusheng-ge!” a yell comes, and both men flinch.

Lu Yao sits back and relaxes as Youning storms in. Chusheng pales, and his hand raises as if to facepalm, but Youning is quicker. She looks ready to give Chusheng hell on Lu Yao’s behalf too, and that she does.

===

Lu Yao, when he’s not distracted by antique wares or expensive restaurants or his English books, is a pretty self-sufficient person who can take care of himself. He’s a little vain, timid and dumb on some counts, but the man can cook very well, knows how to clean up after himself in a way that Youning still forgets to sometimes.

Chusheng himself can cook, but he eats takeout or heads back to Boss Bai’s house for the occasional meal more often than not, so when he wakes up next to the aroma of pork ribs and old cucumber soup, he has to pause for a moment.

“You’re awake,” Lu Yao says, glancing at him with narrowed eyes, probably still pissed off that Chusheng tried to hide his injuries from him. “Eat up. The doctor said you should have some soup.”

“Where’s Youning?” he mumbles, still groggy from the drugs and this is exactly why he hates hospitals.

“She went back home first, she’s got a draft to rush out tonight. This soup was on the stove for more than four hours. Man-jie told me that I should cook it under a smaller fire for more than three hours, so you should try it.”

Lu Yao scoops out a spoonful and blows gently at it, before bringing it to Chusheng’s lips.

When the man simple stares at him, Lu Yao glares, “Why would you- you don’t want to eat again? I cooked this myself when I could have been sleeping and even Youning helped to stare at the fire for an hour, and you still don’t want it-“

Chusheng cuts him off mid-rant, leaning forward and eating from the proffered spoon obediently.

“… how is it?”

“Hnn,” Chusheng hums, looking at anything but Lu Yao, “It’s passable.”

Suddenly, Chusheng realizes how close Lu Yao is next to him seated on the bed. He’s not used to being in Lu Yao’s care- or anyone’s care for that matter, and this whole thing is jarring, to say in the least.

“Passable?” Lu Yao scoffs, but scoops up another spoonful for Chusheng anyway.

Chusheng bends his head to reach the spoon again, and at the last moment, it dawns on him again how strange this whole thing is. He moves back, saying, “I can eat on my own-“

His eyes go wide as Lu Yao ducks in and kisses him, cutting him off. Chusheng can swear his mind goes blank.

When Lu Yao finally pulls away, there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, and he’s not looking at Chusheng either. Clearing his throat, he puts the bowl into Chusheng’s hands.

“You should finish the soup,” Lu Yao says, picking up his jacket from where it is lying over the chair, “I’ll settle your discharge with the doctors.”

Chusheng looks up, blinking, “San Tu-“

“And you better not do this again,” Lu Yao finally meets his eyes again, though the blush doesn’t go away, “Youning and I are going to check you over after every fight. You better not hide another injury from us again, and I’m dragging you over to the hospital if you so much as have a cut!”

That seems a little of an overkill, but Chusheng can’t help but smile.

“And if I don’t listen to you?”

Lu Yao blinks. “Then- Then I’m never-“

“Never going to kiss me again?”

“Never going to make soup for you again,” Lu Yao enunciates firmly, but his ears are now red too as he turns on his heels quickly to escape the room.

Chusheng laughs to himself, shaking his head. Licking at his lips, he wonders if Lu Yao would give him a repeat performance later, but he supposes they have all the time in the world for that now.

===

The next time they get caught in a shootout, as promised, Lu Yao and Youning (and even Ah Dou, hovering a few feet away and trying not to get caught looking at him) make him take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves and lift his shirt a bit to show that he’s fine.

The rest of the officers pretend they’re not looking, even though a shirtless Chusheng at the station is nothing new.

Of course, when they get home, Chusheng lets Lu Yao do a close-up inspection.

In the privacy of their room of course, so that Lu Yao can inspect every inch of his body thoroughly.

[optima-chama]

I Remember...

I remember the first time I experienced racism.

It was quite long ago, I believe I was around 7 (I’m 22 now). I remember how shocked and hurt I was by it, yet still so confused. Even though the day was over a decade ago, it’s still vivid and fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday. I lived in Illinois back then, with my mother, father, and little brother. We lived in a predominately-white suburban neighborhood. Obviously, we were the only black family on that street, so we stood out quite a bit. I had a few friends on that street. Waterford Lane, Lake in the Hills. I still remember that two story house fondly. School had just let out, and just like several other kids, I had gotten on a bus to get home. Ah, those were the days--Elementary School was such a great experience to me, you know? I loved to learn. I loved to read. I loved making my teachers smile and exceeding their expectations and making them proud of me. In school, during that time, we were learning about 3D shapes. Another group of kids that weren’t in the same class as us had gone through their lessons a bit faster, and finished the project to be made at the end of the lesson. A 3D shape of your choosing made out of plastic straws and those twisty-ties that people use to keep bread loaf bags shut. I, being the curious child I was, had been fawning over the 3D shapes those kids had carried onto the bus. I was sitting with a group of kids I had made a pretty good friendship with, or so I thought. One of them even lived on the same street I did; a little white boy my age. We used to bike all the time around the neighborhood together, and he had even been inside my house to play games. I remember asking one of the kids I was talking to if I could see their little 3D project because I just thought it was so cool. My ‘friend’ (who hadn’t even been a part of the conversation) interjected, and said something that shocked me into stunned silence. ‘No, you can’t, because you have dark skin!’ I ran off the bus crying to my parents, who had been waiting at the bus stop for me. I told them what my ‘friend’ had said. I remember them being furious and unleashing holy hell onto that little boy’s parents while all of the other kids and parents watched. I remember being so hurt by what he had said, but so confused as to why his parents were so apologetic and embarrassed and stammering before ushering away, clearly talking to their child in hushed, furious tones. Why were my parents yelling at his? What had they done to deserve being yelled at? Did I really deserve less just because I had brown skin? Because a child doesn’t just go around saying that out of the blue. That boy had never been allowed near my house again. I remember the second time I experienced racism.

Third Grade. I had a teacher by the name of Mrs. Gross (yes, that was actually her name). She was a short, pretty woman in maybe her mid-30s. I revered teachers, because they were authority, and they were giving us knowledge. Teachers couldn’t be bad, right? I still remember the first day we had started that grade, where she gave us a nice sweet flowery speech about how if she offended us in anyway, to come to her and let her know. We could be safe with her. We could trust her. And then came the day she made fun of my birth month during a lesson and didn’t like that (I was a sensitive little kid). I went to her during quiet reading time and told her I didn’t like that, because all months are great. That was when I learned her little ‘You’re Safe With Me’ speech didn’t apply to me. She was dismissive and blew me off. I was hurt by this, but figured, maybe I was just being silly? I could get over it, I wasn’t one to hold grudges. I just wanted to make the adults I respected proud. It took me many detentions, her calling me a cheater due to me being the one student with the highest reading skill, and becoming the scapegoat of the classroom and getting in trouble for many things I never even did to realize that not all authority deserves respect. I remember the first time I ‘fought back’ against racism.

Still third grade. Mother and Father were going through divorce proceedings, Father had left leaving a sore bleeding hole behind in our once idyllic home and it was wreaking havoc in our household. I was a sad and angry little girl. I started acting out more, even in school; because I figured I was being treated like a villain in school anyway, so why not act like one? There was hardly a day that went by that I wasn’t being bullied by my peers, my teacher, or older students that were in the Fifth Grade. I remember this one particular girl in the fifth grade, Nora (of Indian descent), who I thought was my best friend, but in actuality tried to get anyone and everyone she could to make me cry just so she could get a laugh. She liked putting me down, just to make herself seem cooler. God, after I realized how toxic she was, I hated her with a passion. She even turned this one fifth grade boy I had a crush on (he had pretty red hair, silly I know) against me. I’d only ever see him on the bus, but he’d make the bus ride to and from school a living hell. Calling me names, pulling my hair, the like. I tried to tell my teacher about it, but lmao, of course she didn’t do anything. Hell, she even snidely told me I deserved it. So I just sat quietly and took all the abuse, because I knew that no one would help me anyway. One day, I had had a particularly rough day at school. Ridicule from my teacher and peers, and knowing I’d be heading back to a broken home where no father was waiting to hug me and wipe my tears away? I was stressed. I was angry. Mother had heard me crying one day before this, and told me I had her permission to defend myself if I needed to, but ONLY if someone else put their hands on me first. I was NEVER to throw the first punch, she told me. I didn’t understand why, but I trusted my mother above all else. I got on that bus that day. That little boy had a wild hair up his ass for some reason; was showing off for a group of friends. Calling me ‘blackie’, ‘a fat tub of lard’, ‘stupid’, etc. I ignored him, and this made him angry. Then he stood up and kicked me in the stomach. I saw red through the tears of pain blurring my sight before blacking out. When I came back to reality, the bus had been pulled to the side of the road and I was being pulled off the boy by the bus-driver. He had a split lip, a quickly swelling black eye, and was sobbing through chipped teeth. I was banned from the bus for a week after that, during which time I learned that he had a fractured jaw and bruised ribs from my rage too. I remember being pulled into the office by the Vice Principle, with my mother and his parents there, and being shown the tape from the Bus Camera that had caught the whole thing. I remember his parents being angry that I was even still in the school despite their child being clearly in the wrong, and being called a ‘monster’ and a ‘danger to the school’. The VP was cool though, and was on my mother’s and I’s side, saying it was Self-Defense. They said they’d sue, to which the VP laughed and said ‘Go ahead; with this tape, it won’t go anywhere’. I didn’t get in any official trouble, but the glare that mother had given me sent chills down my back. The rumor of what I did spread around the school very quickly. The only good thing about that was that I wasn’t being bullied anymore. I remember the first time I was told I wasn’t as pretty as other girls around me because I had dark skin.

Still in Illinois, but different school. I was in Fifth Grade now. Mother had won custody of my little brother and I, and we had to move from that big old house that I adored into a much smaller condo apartment. Mother had to work long hours to support us, so I had to help her parent my brother. Help out with chores, make sure we got to school on time, help her cook, make sure my brother and I did our homework, we ate, and got to bed on time, stuff like that. I remember feeling quite a bit of pride for being such a big girl to deserve my own phone back then, so my mom and I could keep in contact while she was at work and we were home alone. There was this boy I had a small crush on in my class, he was most definitely the clown. Got in trouble a lot for playing pranks, and joking around and talking while everyone was working. I liked him because he was funny, and made me smile even though I was clinically depressed (that’s a whooooooooooole other story). I had told a ‘friend’ in confidence that I liked him, and well, of course that didn’t remain a secret for long. We were heading to art class when he confronted me and made fun of me for it, in front of our whole class. He said ‘That’s cute, but honestly, I could do a whole lot better than you’. I was hurt. Distraught. One of the other girls seemed to have a bit of sympathy for me and said ‘That’s so mean, why would you even say that?’. I still remember his response to this day. ‘Black girls aren’t as pretty as White girls.’ I remember the first time I was ridiculed by people who looked like me. We had moved to California, to be closer to my mother’s side of the family. I remember being vaguely shocked and excited to suddenly be surrounded by people who looked like me. New friends I could make! Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad anymore! Maybe I wouldn’t be so lonely anymore! I remember my first day in my new school, Sixth Grade. The class was so much more diverse in terms of ethnicity. Not a single white kid in sight. I remember being very wary and even distrustful of my teacher, because he was a white male. I learned better as the year went on though--He was quite honestly the best teacher I had ever had, and I’ll remember him forever.He was strict but fair, and he made learning fun again for me. He was the one teacher who ever told me that it didn’t matter what I looked like-- If I wanted to succeed, and was willing to work for it, I’d be great in whatever I decided to set my mind to do. He believed in me. But anyway, I remember being introduced to my new students, and everyone looking at me like I was a shooting star or something. Illinois was so very far away, after all; I remember getting swarmed by my peers during recess asking me if I wanted to play, and I was so excited. But as the day went on, and I kept talking and laughing with them, they kept giving me weird looks, so I asked them what was wrong. ‘You talk white. Why are you talking like that? Do you think you’re better than us? You sound just like a whitie/gringo. Don’t you know what they do to people who look like you? Why do you want to sound like them?’ It wasn’t long after that that I became lonely again. I remember the first time I had been stopped by a security guard in a public setting. This was during my make-up phase. I had reached my mid teens by now, and I was feeling really insecure about my image. I particularly liked lipstick and eye shadow, and I would beg my mom to take me to the local Walgreens to get some whenever I had saved up enough money. I liked collecting random colors and flavors; it made me happy. I had made the mistake of wearing a baggy hoodie that day. I loved hoodies, still do; they make me feel safe and warm, like a hug. Mom hated them, cause I liked using the hood to hide my face and kept my hands in the huge pockets they had, ,which I personally didn’t get. When we walked through the doors, I had sped-walked straight towards the make-up section. I was looking at all the different brands and colors, touching them while oohing and aahing over them before putting them back; none of them were really catching my eye. Over the intercom, we heard a lady give a strange nonsensical code. I turned to my mom and joked that maybe they thought I was stealing or something (I felt it was funny because mom had put the fear of God in me when it came to stealing; I was terrified about even thinking about committing the act). Turns out, when we were done and walking towards the entrance after paying for our goods and I got stopped by a security guard, that I had been right on the money. I got patted down and forced to empty out my pockets and little purse in front of the doorway, in front of the whole store, for that security guard to be sure that I hadn’t taken anything without paying for it. It took fifteen minutes. They didn’t find anything, of course, but I was practically crying by that point. When we were allowed to leave, I was ushered out the store by my mom and when we were in the car, she took the time to calm me down before telling me that was why she didn’t like my hoodies. Because I would be looked at with even more suspicion when I was in a store than I already was. My mom told me that in order to not be bothered by authority, I had to look as non-criminal as possible. ‘B-But why...?’ I asked, like a naive child. ‘Because you’re black.’ She sadly told me. I didn’t go back to that Walgreens for at least a year. I remember the first time I felt threatened by a police officer. We were living with my disabled grandfather after his second wife had passed by this time. I still thought that the majority of cops were good when I was turning 17. Why else would they be protecting the public, right? They were strong and brave, and put themselves on the line to keep citizens safe. They were the good guys. Sure, there were some bad apples, but you couldn’t judge a whole group based on what they wore, right? There was bound to be some worms no matter where you go, and I had been coached extensively by my mom and uncles about what to say and do if you’re approached by an officer-- Be respectful, stay calm and compliant, and don’t speak too much (this confused me, but whatever my family said I’d do). I was walking with my little brother back from the 7-11 near our house, after a snack run. My brother was 14 then, and he had a bike. It was a pretty cool red bike that he absolutely loved, and he rode it around everywhere. If he was out and about in the neighborhood, chances are he was on his bike. We were laughing and squabbling with each other, like siblings usually do and just minding our own business. When we were only, I’d say, a quarter mile away from home, a police cruiser coasted up beside us on the sidewalk. We immediately went quiet and stared ahead, trying not to look like we were up to no good or anything. I whispered to my brother to let me handle the talking if they spoke to us, because my bro had a bit of a temper back then and I didn’t want him mouthing off to an officer. They followed us for a small distance down the street, before the passenger side window rolled down and the (white) officer in the passenger seat asked us to stop. We did. He then asked us where we were going. ‘Home’, I said, sorta shielding my brother from view. ‘Oh yeah? Where’s home?’ ‘Close by.’ We stared at each other in silence for a bit (I wasn’t dense enough to not realize there wasn’t tension) and I could feel my brother gripping onto my shirt from behind. I could feel him shaking a little. The officer looked at my brother, and consequently, the bike he had been riding down the sidewalk. ‘That’s a nice bike’, he said. ‘T-Thanks!’ My brother said, realizing he was being addressed and eager to talk about something he loved to a guy he thought was doing a really cool job. ‘I love my bike, I ride it everywhere!’ ‘Your bike, huh? Got proof that it’s yours?’ My brother’s eyes went wide in shock. They wouldn’t let us leave that spot until we proved that the bike in our possession was my brother’s. I remember having to call my mom who was at home, wondering where the hell we were, and explain to her that two police officers had us cornered in a nearby street and weren’t letting us leave over a shiny new-looking bike. I remember hearing her losing her shit over the phone, saying she’d be right there and not to panic, and in the background, my grandfather insisting he’d come with to try and ease things to (and to keep my mother in check, cause she’s one hell of a spitfire). I remember shaking and whispering to my brother that everything would be okay; while trying to shield him from view as we stood there for five whole minutes waiting for our mom to save the day, all the while the officer was asking us increasingly invasive questions about us and getting more and more irritated when I gave short, polite answers that didn’t reveal much. I remember taking a further look into the car than I should have, and feeling my heart drop when I realized the officer (of course) had a gun on him. And his hand was resting over the holster. I had seen it. And when I looked back up at him in the eyes, it was clear he knew I had seen it. But his hand didn’t move away from the gun. Mother showed up quick, and with my grandfather in tow. Thing is, my grandfather could pass for white. Only slightly tanned skin that could be dismissed due to the California sun, and bright blue eyes. My mother, with fury in her eyes, clearly caused alarm for the officers, but when they saw my grandfather trying his best to hold her back and keep her from cussing them out with the receipt for the bike she had bought for my brother clenched tightly in her hand, they quickly backed down and tried to seem as friendly as possible before driving off in under two minutes, wishing us a good day. I remember my brother and I quickly being rushed home, the both of us rattled out of our minds while my mom ranted and told us this was why she told us to be on our best behavior while in public. I remember that day as the day it really hit home for me. I was not seen as equal by those around me because of something I had no control over. I would be looked at with suspicion while in public because of my skin color unless I somehow managed to prove I was trustworthy. I wasn’t seen as pretty as girls with lighter skin were. Authority wasn’t always right, nor was it unbiased. Police officers weren’t friends to people who look like me. Whether I was being passive or aggressive didn’t matter to those around me if people wanted to pick a fight; if I wasn’t careful, I would most likely be the first to get accosted/handcuffed/a harsh sentence/killed. And that the freedom that the American Flag stood for, that several of my family members had pledged their lives to, military, medical, or otherwise, didn’t mean a damn when it came to us.

[op-law]

Charlotte Kato x Reader {I Need You} Ch 2

Kato's Pov

When the young girl didn't reply to my initial attempt to speak to her, I tried again but this time I spoke louder. "Did you hear me (Y/n)? I said your Father's death wasn't your fault" There was something special about this girl and I had felt the need to comfort her but I also didn't appreciate her tears pouring down against my skin. "W-Who said that?" I could hear the fear laced within her voice though in a way it was almost cute. "Down here (Y/n) and please stop crying on me" At first the girl didn't move an inch though she was most likely just scared. "T-The pumpkin?... W-What are you talking about?"

"Yes, the pumpkin, or I believe you know me better as Kato. Please turn me around (Y/n)" I had been stuck in that maze for days now while I tried to gain the attention of anyone that would listen but no one had been able to understand me except (Y/n). "K-Kato? T-That's impossible he's just a-a-a-ahhhhh!" Alright, so I didn't fully think this plan through very much since as soon as (Y/n) seen my face she threw me out of her lap. After I had heard the girl speak so highly of me to her little sister, I would have figured she would have been thrilled to find out my true identity but the reaction she showed me was not the one I expected at all.

"W-What the hell are you!?"

"My name is Charlotte Kato and I'm not sure how I ended up as a pumpkin. Though you're the only person that has been to be able to see my face as well as understand what I'm saying. I need your help (Y/n) maybe if I can get back to Mama then she can do something about this" As I watched her wipe away the last remaining tears, she started to crawl over towards me. "You're really him?... I hate to be the one to tell you this Kato but you're nowhere near Whole Cake Island and this isn't even your world. In this world, you're only a character from an anime so I'm not sure how I would even be able to help you. I'm sorr- Wait just a second did you lick me earlier!?"

"Your hand was covering my mouth (Y/n) though you didn't taste very good" When the girl started to glare at me, I realized that probably wasn't the response she wanted to hear but at least it was the truth. "Come along my little Kato let's get going so we can find out how to break this curse you're under"

~~~~~~~~~~

A Few Hours Later...

(Y/n)'s Pov

"Is something wrong (Y/n)? You look like you're about to cry and I don't like it" As my eyes shifted over to the pumpkin that sat at the end of my bed, I let out a sign before I replied to it. "I don't have a pumpkin to carve for Halloween anymore. My Mom said she wouldn't buy me another one since I already got you"

"Don't you have the Beri to buy your own?" When I shook my head at Kato, I moved to be closer to him though his facial expression didn't show much. "So, my little orange friend have you thought about how we could break this curse of yours? I'm assuming it's a curse unless you have reason to believe it's something else"

"Well, I've read quite of fables over the years, and usually true loves first kiss does the trick to break a curse though I highly doubt you love me so we'll have to cross that idea off of the list. Do you have any ideas (Y/n)?... Why are you blushing?" As I tried to cover my cheeks from the man's view, I sat up on the bed and held my hands to my face. "H-How do you know that I d-don't love you?"

"Hm, I've never met you before (Y/n) though you seem to know a lot about me. You mentioned that I was an anime character in this world can you please explain that a little bit more to me? I don't understand what you meant by it. Also, your sister is rather rude" When I uncovered my cheeks, I briefly looked over at the mirror to double-check that there was no longer bright red though once I confirmed they were back to normal I turned to Kato.

"Well, an anime is like a tv show that we watch for entertainment here. Though I'll admit there's not much information available about you and you're only in a few episodes sadly but I really like you. Hehehe. I guess I have a special place in my heart for the unappreciated characters. Oh, that reminds me I even draw some fan art of you. Would you like to see it? I'm not the best artist in the world but I think it turned out quite good"

"You drew a picture of me? Hmm, I've never had someone freely draw me before. Sure, I'd love to this drawing of yours (Y/n)" As I went to find the drawing in question, I kept looking over at Kato though maybe it was a hopeless thing to actually think a kiss from my lips would break his curse. "Ah, here it is... What do you think Kato?"

"It's rather well done (Y/n) but why are you drawing pictures of me? I'm not the most attractive male in the world and like your sister said I'm just a pumpkin freak. Why would you even draw someone as ugly as me?" What Kato said had really started to pull at my heartstrings since sure he looked different from the others guys but that didn't make him ugly. "I don't care what you look like on the outside Kato. All that matters to me is what's on the inside. You could be the most attractive person on the planet but if your heart is ugly then the rest of you is to"

"Did you want to kiss me and see if anything happens? I mean it's not going to hurt anything to try it" I thought about the man's question for a second though I slowly started to nod my head as I picked him up within my grip. "Y-Yah, we can try it" My face was probably on fire at the moment but all I had to do was press my lips against his and hope for the best. "(Y/n)! Mom wants you to take the trash ou- What in the hell are you doing to that poor pumpkin?"

I really needed to buy a lock for that door since Yuki clearly didn't know how to knock. "I-I'm just thinking about the design I want to crave into it. Why does Mom want me to take the trash out? I did it yesterday so tell her that TJ has to do it" When Yuki replied back to me, I slowly started to groan as my feet moved onto the ground.

"Yeah, TJ left to his friend's house so you need to do it. I'm sorry Sis I would have done it for you but the doctor doesn't want me to put a lot of pressure on my wrist since the break could worsen" When my eyes drifted to the girl's wrist, I reminded myself that she had strained to during her volleyball game last week. "It's fine Yuki. Tell Mom that I'll be down in a minute I just need to finish up something and please for the love of God learn how to knock"

"Hehehe. It's not like your ever doing anything interesting in here (Y/n)... Unless of course, you have some kind of dirty secret you're attempting to hide from me~" Yuki didn't even wait for a response before she ran out of the room. "That girl is rather annoying but she reminds me of my little sister Flampe. Does she like the sight of blood? Flampe can't stand it though that doesn't stop her cruel ways"

"Blood? Yuki gets hurt all the time but I've never seen her uncomfortable with it. Who's Flampe again? There are so many members of your family that I can't remember you all but I do know a few like Katakuri the really tall guy who loves donuts and tea"

"Hm, don't worry about it (Y/n). Now I believe that you were going to kiss me were you not?" I had almost forgotten about that but since Yuki was gone, I could finish what I started though I was getting slightly nervous about kissing the man. "What's going to happen if this works Kato and you turn back into your human form?" Since this wasn't his world, I couldn't exactly just allow him to leave the house since the government would surely want to experiment on him.

"I haven't thought that far ahead but let's just see if this kiss will even work then we can discuss things afterward" That sounded like a good idea so before I could back out from the plan, I pressed my lips against where his carved smile was located. It was the weirdest feeling in the world to kiss a pumpkin though once I had pulled away, I sat him down and waited a few seconds. "I'm sorry Kato it didn't work... Don't go anywhere I'll be right back"

"It's alright (Y/n) if it makes you feel any better your lips are really soft and I liked the kiss"

"T-Thanks K-Kato... When I-I get back we can think about what we can try next" Before the man could say another word, I had already left the room and started to the kitchen where my mother was waiting. "(Y/n) there you are I was beginning to think that you were going to stay locked in your bedroom all day. The garbage is over by the door I just need you to take it to the end of the driveway"

"First of all, my door does not have a lock on it so it's impossible for me to stay locked in there, and second of all, wasn't it garbage day yesterday?" When my mother turned away from the window, I could see she had fresh tears in her eyes. "No matter how old you get (Y/n) you'll always be my baby girl. I know one day soon you're going to leave this house but I'm afraid you won't even say goodbye to me. Please promise me that when that day comes, you'll at least let me see you off"

"What makes you so sure that I'm going to leave this house? I hadn't even decided on the college I want to attend yet and my grades aren't exactly anything special" My Mother only shook her head before she started to walk past me though I did manage to hear her whisper something under her breath. "We don't meet people by accident. They are meant to cross our paths for a reason"

As I thought about what my Mother could have meant I made my way over to the front door before I grabbed the trash bags and headed outside. Thankfully there were only two bags but they weighed quite a bit. "What the hell could she have thrown away? Garbage day was yesterday so there shouldn't be this much trash... Oh, it's the big garbage pickup week isn't it?" As I continued on down the driveway, I finally made it to the end though based on the dark clouds that were approaching from the east I knew it was going to rain soon.

"I should hurry back to the house before the rain starts... though then again it wouldn't be so bad if I did stay out here for a while. Hm, I wonder if Kato would like to join me?" Since we lived in the middle of nowhere, we had this long dirt driveway but I liked the fact that we didn't have any neighbors for miles. "I'll go see if my Pumpkin King wants to play outside with me~ Hehehe"

~~~~~~~~~~

End Chapter 2

[nonsensicalobsessions]

Tom & the Cookie Monster Take 2

Author’s note: @villainousshakespeare , this idea came and hit me like a brick. Hopefully it did not leave any lasting damage, nor will it give you any by reading it. Anyway, you requested: “May I please have a Tom himself fic (since you are so good at those!) maybe something set during the Broadway run of Betrayal?“ I do not know if this will live up to your praise, as this is but a shortie, but I hope you enjoy, here is your promised prompt, my dearest friend:

Two male Hiddlestons made their way through the hallway towards their apartment door. One was prancing, sprightly and happy. The other was proceeding at a trudge.

Tom was tired, and he had every reason to be. It was Saturday night, which meant there had been the matinee production, as well as the evening show of Betrayal. And while the show was going extremely well, the pace was still grueling some days.

Like today. And yesterday’s. And last week’s...

He rifled through his keys, snickering as he remembered how one fan he spoke to was under the assumption he was living in a penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue. Erm, no. He had quite a nice furnished flat, in a secure building where he did not have to be concerned any random fan could interrupt his rare moments of private life, but it was simply a nice flat. And at the moment, one of his neighbors was evidently baking biscuits, and his stomach growled.

And not just any biscuits, but chocolate chip biscuits. Damn it. Now he was hungry, and even though he knew of at least half a dozen places that would deliver even at this hour, he was tired, and didn’t feel like interacting with anyone. He wished to take his public face off, just as he had removed his stage make up a couple of hours ago, but then went and spent the time afterwards doing stage door appearances for his fans. Which he loved doing. But now, he just felt drained.

As he found the right key, Bobby was sitting at the door obediently, but Tom could see the dog was all but vibrating to be let in. “Bob, what is it, man?” As Tom unlocked the door, Bobby let out a joyous bark and sped in so rapidly Tom was grateful he had dropped the lead, or his shoulder would have suffered a hell of a jerk.

Tom walked in, his eyes bouncing quickly, dropping his bag and pulling out his phone in a reflexive action. While he had never had a fan break into any of his digs, it had happened to several of his friends, and his fingers were already preparing to call security, even as he recognized the smell of biscuits was even stronger now.

Apparently whomever Bobby had run to greet had baked for him. Which was a pretty decent thing to do, stalker-behavior aside.

“You forgot I was coming tonight, didn’t you?” The familiar female voice was amused, as her yet-to-be-seen form was bent over in the kitchen, acknowledging Bobby’s slavish adoration.

Oh, shit. He had.

He dropped his keys in the small dish she had given him to keep his keys when she learned he kept misplacing them.

“How much trouble am I in?” Even his voice was dull.

“Oh, honestly, Tom.” An arm came up from behind him, hugging his waist and brandishing a freshly baked treat, so fresh it was being held in a napkin. “If you’re so tired that you can’t even remember having given your extra key to someone for just this purpose, I think that speaks more to exhaustion than culpability. Have a cookie, Cookie. I made them just like the recipe printed on the bag, so I can’t have messed it up too badly...”

Then another hand snaked around his waist, this one bearing the body and face of none other than the Cookie Monster, who proceeded to menace the other hand’s bounty. “Delayed gratification, Hiddleston!!” Now the female voice behind him was growly and raspy. “No cookies for you, you must practice the art of...”

“Oh, fuck that,” quoth Tom, grabbing the napkin and spinning around to the laughing face of his baker-cum-stalker. “Get the hell away from my biscuits, Cookie Monster, and take your delayed gratification and get stuffed...”

“It’s a puppet, darling, I don’t think they can get stuffed...”

“No, but they can get a fist right up their...”

“Shut up, Tom, and eat your cookie! I am shocked, shocked and appalled by your uncouth behavior...” laughed Sabrina Wright, who was clearly neither shocked nor appalled.

Tom met Sabrina three months ago, when he did an impromptu visit at a children’s hospital as Loki, complete with costume. The entire event was kept under wraps and unpublicized, as it wasn’t sponsored by anyone. Chris Evans had come to the area to visit a friend who was facing surgery, and between him, Charlie Cox, and Tom, they hatched the idea. Then at the last minute, Brie Larson found out about the plan and came along as well.

The children were ecstatic and a “Marvelous time was had by all” as Tom kept saying later, much to everyone’s general disgust as they kept throwing things at him at his apartment...but Tom had noticed that while everyone, children, parents, siblings, and staff were excited and clamoring to be involved in the fun, there were a few patients that were just too ill to participate, and he and his friends made a point to leave some things aside for those kids to have, and to see if there was anything they could do for them once the furor calmed down.

There was one nurse that never joined in the carefully controlled chaos, but went about caring for, and ultimately consoling, the ones who wished to play but couldn’t, or were too ill to notice, or care. Tom saw her picking one child up, and simply rocking him in her arms in a rocking chair for awhile, rubbing his back, and apparently singing to him. He made a mental note to say hello to her as well. He knew there was always someone that had to stay behind and work when everyone was enjoying these kinds of parties, and he wanted to let her know he saw and was touched by the work she was doing with so much heart.

Once the brouhaha and the dust settled, Loki stepped aside, found Nurse Sabrina, and asked if the other children would be interested in seeing the Marvel crew, and she grimaced.

“It’s very kind of you to inquire, uh, Loki, if you and your...cohort would like to perhaps wave at the children from the doorway if they are awake, that would be fine, but that is the most I can allow. They really are quite sick.”

Chris stepped up. “Is it all right if we leave them some signed posters and things like that?”

“Cap, I know that would make them very happy, even if we have to put them up outside of their rooms, looking in...!”

Loki looked into the room where he had seen the little boy Sabrina had rocked. He seemed so frail... “Erm, that little boy...will he be alright?”

Sabrina’s face buttoned up. “I’m afraid I cannot comment on his prognosis, Loki. I will say...I wish you had healing powers. For all of these children, obviously...but especially for him. He was so distressed he could not come out and see you, in particular. He thinks you are, ah, badass. I do not bother correcting his more colorful speech. It’s not relevant.”

“I see. Is he awake?”

“Yes, he is, but I cannot allow you to go in...”

“I understand...tell this young Midgardian to expect a visit in a few minutes...”

One of the giveaway items they had was a small t shirt, which Tom had signed by both characters and actors, and then proceeded to his room.

Small Tim Curran was wondering why Nurse Sabrina had come in, and insisted that she comb his hair, and wash his face...and then...

“Midgardian.”

“Holy sh...smokes,” the little boy breathed. Standing in the doorway was none other than the OG, the badass himself... “Loki?”

“I understand you are unwell and as such I am not to enter your presence. I would not wish to undermine your recovery. However, I come bearing gifts.”

Sabrina entered, grinning from ear to ear, and showed him the T-shirt. Loki had even doodled his face next to his name. “I have embued it with as much healing seidr as possible. I do not know if it will be effective against your Midgardian illness, but I do know it will aid your prodigious courage and strength, provided you heed the instructions of Healer Sabrina, and all others who are working in your aid.”

Captain Marvel, Captain America, and Daredevil also spoke to him personally, adding what qualities they added to his shirt.

Tim was in heaven, and as Sabrina was looking at his vitals, saw he was getting over excited, and thought she would have to cut the visit short, but seeing as she was getting concerned, the actors all proclaimed they needed to depart to return to their duties.

Tim fell asleep that night clutching his shirt, and would not be parted from it. Loki would be pleased to know it did impart healing powers, because it brought the little boy so much happiness...

Tom called Sabrina the next day, and asked if there was anything else he could do for the children in the wing, and Sabrina replied they were still very excited, and he had done more than enough. She was very grateful. She was also very thankful he called to speak with her personally, not because she was flattered on a personal standpoint (although she was) but because her superiors in administration would be quick to turn it into a publicity request or worse, a financial one).

Tom shyly admitted he did have an ulterior motive for asking to speak with her personally...he wanted to know if he could see her sometime.

Something about the small nurse had gotten under his skin. Maybe it was the way she stuck to the background the entire afternoon, even when everyone was getting into the big group photo. Maybe it was the way she never asked for a thing herself, even when they were all speaking casually and privately at the end, when she easily could have. No one would have minded, and even Evans and Larson commented on it over pizza and beer later that evening, how she didn’t ask for a selfie, an autograph, nothing, even though she was as friendly and pleasant as old be...

Cox noticed how Tom blushed when Evans joked about he couldn’t get over someone didn’t want to get a photo with the man who saved New York, or the bastard that almost destroyed it. Cox noticed everything...as he was leaving for the night, he asked Tom, “Are you going to try to get Nurse Ratched’s phone number?”

Tom had flared, “Don’t do that. Don’t make fun of her.”

Cox grinned. “Ah hah. So that’s the way the wind is blowing...” and walked away, whistling.

Coffee became an exchange of What’s App phone numbers. Both of them worked long hours, so texting was a godsend. Texts became marathon phone calls at odd hours of the day, which became meetings in strange places to avoid the paparazzi, until they stumbled into each other’s arms, and each other’s beds.

Sabrina was like no one Tom had ever met: calm, compassionate, cheerful, and not giving a tinker’s damn about the industry, gossip columns, and all the rest of it. When he hesitantly pointed this aspect of her personality out to her she looked at him as though he was something of interest under a microscope.

“Sweet man, I act like I don’t care because I truly don’t. It’s completely irrelevant. Unimportant. Trifling. I have held children’s beating hearts in my hands while doctors have desperately tried to sew them back together in operating rooms because bullets ripped through their little bodies and their bedrooms in housing projects. I’ve held hysterical parents back as they’ve tried to somehow willtheir dying children back to life as they take their last breaths. I’ve held newborns in my hands as they have been only seconds old, and I have held children in my arms as they’ve breathed their last. That, to me, is real. That is life. And it comes wrapped up in tears and laughter and vomit and shit and blood and love and love and love. If some paparazzi, interviewer, man on the street, or tabloid tried to give me shit for loving you, ask me how much I’d care? The answer is not at all. It’s not going to change my mind, or my life.”

Tom knew, then, he had found his one, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and grow old with, maybe even have a family of his own with...the question was, would she want the same...?

“...Tom? Tom?...Earth to Major...oh, you know what? Forget about it, Major Tom has crashed, Houston, we have a problem,” sighed Sabrina looking at her lover who had fallen asleep on the sofa still clutching part of a cookie he had yet to finish.

“Well, Bobby, it looks like another night of delayed gratification for me...good thing he’s so cute, and I happen to love the charming beanpole,” she commented wryly, only to see that Bobby was also lying on the floor asleep...and farting.

“Good God, what is it with the Hiddleston men tonight, I wonder?” Laughing quietly, Sabrina got up and made sure the bed was ready (and not in the hapless disarray of clothing tossed all around, which was not usual but happened enough to be worthy of a check). She turned down the covers and made sure there was a bottle of water on Tom’s nightstand.

As she was doing this, Tom woke up with a jerk, and he looked around for Sabrina. He wasn’t quite awake, wasn’t asleep, and Sabrina wasn’t there...she wasn’t there, she had finally done it, come to her senses and left him, he had forgotten she was coming to spend the weekend with him, one the rare occurrences she had the entire weekend off, and then he goes and falls asleep on her, no, noton her, but next to her like a right pillock, as if she wasn’t even there...no, no...he knew it was going to happen eventually, she was too lovely a person to put up with him and his bullshit, the way he was so self-absorbed and caught up in his own problems and life, she was right, she dealt in the real world, and...

He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Sabrina...so sorry. You deserved better, but I loved you the best I could,” he whispered. “I gave you all the heart I have...”

“What’s this then?” A soft voice, sweet like melted chocolate, soothing as a warm kiss...

“Sabrina!” His head shot up so quickly she winced at the cracking sound from his neck, and then saw his reddened, swollen eyes.

“Ah, love, what is it? Nightmare?” She came and extended her hand to him. “Come with me, you’re exhausted, and we’ll cuddle.”

“You’re still here.”

She looked at him tolerantly. “Yes, Tom. Still here. Complete with my Cookie Monster puppet, just to drive you mad. Come to bed. I’ll snuggle with you and chase the bads away, I promise. The only monster here is the blue one eyeing your cookies, and I’ve put him away.”

He took her small hand, and smiled. “There will be no delayed gratification in this house. We will enjoy the things we love, and live the one life we have to its fullest...no longer am I going to delay giving my heart what it desires most...I shall be bold, and decisive...Bobby, you have my express permission, nay, encouragement, to destroy the Cookie Monster, and anything else that dares come between myself and my love...”

Yes. He would be bold. Tomorrow, he would ask her if she would consider becoming a permanent star in his sky, he would stop living in fear of her disappearing the moment he closed his eyes, he would throw caution to the four winds, and belay any idea of delaying his happiness, and hopefully, hers, for any reason, a moment longer. There would be declarations made, and promises, and...

He tripped over his shoes.

“Careful! Harsh, Tom, very harsh...and Bobby, don’t you dare.” They turned off the lights and made their way to bed, Tom sleepily stripping along the way, making Sabrina laugh. “Ah, what the world to pay to see this strip show...”

“Quiet, Woman. This is not a strip show, this is a ritual divestiture of armor.”

“Uh huh,” she skeptically agreed, looking at the trail of clothes behind him. “So, if I was to get undressed like that...”

“Ah, now that would be a strip show, and a lovely one, indeed...”

“Sexist double standards...here, sit down, I will tuck you in...”

“Promise?”

“Tom!”

The naughty little boy expression he gave her was ruined by his yawn he could barely cover. Sabrina laughed as she quickly undressed and put on her sleep clothes, only to be greeted by Tom’s gentle snore the moment she turned out the light. He was so very tired. She was glad he could relax, and find some rest.

And while yes, it was definitely a night for delayed gratification, they had the whole weekend to look forward to sharing. She, for one, was so looking forward to bringing out the Cookie Monster puppet in the morning...maybe as part of a wake up call...

Tagging @villainousshakespeare , @winterisakiller , @vodka-and-some-sass , @lotus-eyedindiangoddess , @just-the-hiddles , @yespolkadotkitty , @hopelessromanticspoonie , @theheartofpenelope , @sabine-leo , @wegingerangelica , @ciaodarknessmyheart , @wrathkitty , @rhemasky , @catsladen​ @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ , @redfoxwritesstuff​ , @the-insomniac-cat2​ , @alexakeyloveloki​ , @myoxisbroken​ , @ladyfluff​ , @toomanystoriessolittletime​

[thisisnotartcritique]

Blue Art, Red Wine

How did we choose this theme? Blue art to see at midnight (you and me)

M: Well, it was late at night, I was drinking with Peter and Johann, and we were frankly tired of art. The rhetoric, the jargon, the rigid categories of art, god, it was all so boring and conformist. The boundaries of location and time, for example, Dutch Still Life 1700s, no longer apply in this day and age. We wanted to move beyond that, into the soul, and truly connect with youth. Pete’s even got us hooked on this uh what’s it called low, low music? 

P: Right, we are inspired by lo-fi music album titles, it puts you in the mood to look at art. When you get home from a tiring day at work, I like to pour a glass of red wine and listen to lo-fi. It reminds you of the hours between midnight and dark rainy mornings, when the sky is dark with a tint of blue. It clears my dusty soul...

J: I love the night! Makes me feel alive. Forgive me, I’m still a bit inebriated. My age must be catching up to me… 

M: Ah careful, what if those are your last words, Johann?

J: So be it. 

Why did you choose your piece of art or exhibition?

P: I am more of the techy one here, unlike Hans and Mike, those two are too consumed by their back pains. Though I have to admit, being on my phone in bed has not been great for my neck either...hahaha…. Anyways, I see myself in Chiao’s drawing, of course except that my room wouldn’t be full of silly posters and uncanny adornments. But the colours, the “vibe”, the little human figure, everything is so relatable, yet in perfect harmony. I aim to achieve that level contentment in life, and I want my readers to feel the same. 

J: I would take offense to Peter’s comment, but unfortunately I learned how to ride a bike just a few months ago. Aside from the unsolicited comments, I’ve been feeling absolutely wonderful after a summer trip to a very hot place (definitely not Hell), and am now undertaking an infestation at a quaint old house in Toronto, which as you can imagine, is a very large ordeal. I’m honoured. Living in a city really allows you to become acquainted with what humanity really tastes feels like, and I find that there is creativity everywhere. Just yesterday I saw a tasteful mural on a fence by the grocery store! It’s as if that mural could transport us to a different time: these thoughts are what reminded me of Kanghee Kim’s photographs.

M: Oh I’m all about adventure, sweetheart. As a man plagued by insomnia and burnout and Instagram, I… need to escape. We all need that. Especially when you have “friends” like Pete and Hans. 

The merging of art & architecture in New Circadia was simply sublime.When I went last year, each time was better than the last. The naps - bellissima! The soft pillow gear, the disco ball, the low-lights and hum, the recorded dreams all coalesced into this sanctuary. 

After all, I write about what I’m drawn to — and maybe my next piece will be about a certain interviewer. 

P: Of course the naps got you Mike. I agree with you that the New Circadia was indeed a much needed escape, simply the act of pushing through the heavy curtains resets my brain. Sometimes I don’t realize how tired I am until I lay in bed, and that was my experience with New Circadia. This brings me to think about our relationship with rest in everyday contemporary life, who decided to place such a heavy emphasis on productivity and efficiency. Do you live to work, or work to live?

J: Who doesn’t like a healthy dose of existential dread on a Monday morning? Although I haven’t personally visited the New Circadia exhibit, I have to say, I don’t find the idea of softness enticing. I prefer the hard cement of a Satanist church’s basement, or perhaps even the deteriorating wooden beams within an old Victorian house. But back to your question, Peter… I don’t know. I’ve been alive for as long as I can recall, but working for only the past two years.

M: That’s because no one would hire you, Hans. 

J: As an immortal being, I have no need for earthly pleasure and glib monetary transactions! Plus, McDonalds already had a supernatural being working for them.

M: Then pay us back for the bubble tea. 

J: If you want the money so badly, come and get it.

M: I’ll cut you in half, demon boy! 

*muffled shuffling sounds, a singular groan of pain followed by heavy breathing from opposite sides of the room*

P: Idiots. Hopefully, you’ll feel better in the morning. I’m not writing this blog by myself.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifty-Eight

There was a thought in me when those two got away that I had to descend further in order to realize my vision. Such thoughts weren’t new by any stretch of the imagination, but the imagination had to stretch in order for the thought to develop, as that was just how such thoughts operated.

Those two: Velvet and Coriander. Two names which may not have been their original names. To that, I could relate. It wasn’t the name that mattered, but the acts; in my case, they saw my actions as ‘evil’. As such, I may as well have played up the act.

No. Not an act. Performance, yes. But all genuine.

My name would have to change in order to suit the occasion, however, as I understood it, the name ‘Dr. Evil’ was already taken. Phooey. Guess I’d have to go back to the old drawing board. Lucky for me, there were many drawing boards in my mind. When one canvas got filled, there were several more that awaited me. Not to mention, being on my back gave me time to think. Something which I already knew was not always a good thing.

Indeed, it wasn’t the first time I had been called ‘evil’. Even the organization which went through many efforts to recruit me had deemed me wicked. What a contradiction! Weren’t they the ones who were also deemed ‘evil’ when they thought they were helping humanity? So then why was I the one excluded?

True, I set a couple people on fire once or twice. It wasn’t my first foray dealing in extremes. That first foray, though, had become lost on me...it must have been far into the Arts and Crafts room, when everything had grown to a point of consternation. Every request, fulfilled. Great things at my disposal. But the time between seeing another soul seemed like an eternity. Long ago, my friends at FU (Flashbulb University, in case it wasn’t obvious) left to join the Fine Arts Department. I had let them. All I asked was to have a room of my own. So I did. But in isolation, I grew to wish I had made a different decision. It was too late; my stubbornness wouldn’t allow me to have it any other way. So I sat, imagined myself in a burning building, and told myself, “this is fine.”

One last flashback. That was a promise: one last flashback...about The Flashbulb:

Late at night when my father was busy painting a commission of a great dragon, I by his side, refilling the ink pots.

Not long into the piece, he spilled a blot of ink all over the parchment, thus ruining it. He grumbled, then went to sleep.

I panicked.

There was NO way I was about to let the commission go unfinished! With all the mess around the house, dishes thrown every which way on the floor, nary a scratch of food. Hell, even if there were, between the two of us, we would have made a negative meal. Our bodies were made for art, but not the art of cooking! We HAD to get that commission money, so we could get good food, none of that ‘homemade’ crap!

I scrambled and paced, likely stepping on a few things in the process.

Then, I drew a breath, pulled out a fresh parchment, and recreated his piece from memory. Each detail added was one he would have in his own style. By the time dawn approached, I had finished, and I set the signature on the bottom, a forgery I grew to master many moons ago.

“Ah! I see I finished it in my sleep!” He got up and looked over. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Indeed! You never fail to impress!”

Of course, a lie. But there was an art in lies; not too harsh, not too delicate. Just as if it were a conversation.

In truth, he really was impressive. Made quite the name for himself. Several names, in fact. He was always seeking out a new medium and would take commissions for everything.

Yet, he was also lazy. Often starting a piece, then taking to the sheets. Really, though, who could blame him, when he started so late into dusk? That was why he had such a great assistant, able to finish anything he started. Because of that, was it any wonder that I managed to paint so fast?

I was about to lay down, myself, as I had deprived myself the luxury long enough. Such luxury would have to wait just a little longer, as we received knocks at our door. Father was kind enough to answer it for me, and I heard indecipherable chatter between my father and the solicitors. Then, father turned to me.

“They’re here for you.”

“What?” I sat up. “What for?”

“They say they have a job offer for you.”

I went over to the two at the door and asked them what business they had.

“We would like to offer you the chance to come with us and improve humanity.”

“What kind of cult is this?” I scowled, then slammed the door on them. My father looked shocked and asked me what I did that for.

“I don’t need humanity. All I need is you and the craft.”

“Maybe they had more to say. If they appear again, please hear them out.”

“If that is your request, then yes.”

Next morning, another knock; they appeared again. This time, I answered it.

“What?” I asked.

“We believe we made a mistake yesterday, so allow us to clarify: we are in need of a talented artist.”

“Why me? Why not my father?”

“Ah, well, you see...he’s a bit famous, and we’re looking for someone with a little less renown.”

“But you should consider him, not me. Because the only person I work with is him.”

“I see. We took the wrong approach. Dr. Monet, if you will.”

The one addressed as Dr. Monet stepped forward and showed me a rabbit in his hands.

“Yes. It’s a rabbit,” I didn’t see what the big deal was, to say the least.

“Actually,” one of them corrected. “It’s a needle felt.”

“What is that?” Those two words, ‘needle’ and ‘felt’ sounded unrelated. The only thing ever I felt from a needle was pain.

“It’s a form of art. There are several forms of art in the future which you may never learn about if you stay here. But if you come with us, the very concept of time won’t matter. Every potential form of art would be at your disposal with the potential to learn it all.”

“No. Time is important. Deadlines are important. Without it, I would never be able to measure my growth.”

“Very well; We will come by one last time, next morning, and if you still decline our offer, we won’t appear again.”

After I closed the door on them once more, I felt the presence of my father next to me with a pressure I couldn’t ignore.

“You should go with them,” he told me. “You may not get such an opportunity again.”

“No. They’re too suspicious.” If I had more awareness, I’d have placed why, and may have said, “they remind me of cultists,” but I didn’t think of that at all.

“That may be, but I could tell your excitement when you heard about new mediums to work with. Hasn’t the thought of ‘if only I had five, no, ten more years’ ever cross your mind just as it has crossed mine? If time weren’t a factor, imagine what you could do.”

“But what about us as a dynamic duo? It sounds like you want us to go our separate ways.”

“No. But yes,” he spoke, almost in a pious fashion. “Our styles are already drifting from one another – I’m leaning more toward nature. Birds, fish, rabbits. While your drawings of people are unparalleled. I know no other who can capture women so well as you.”

Ha. Capture women. If only that had stayed on the canvas and not bled into reality.

“At least think about it until tomorrow morning. Then if you tell them no again, that will be that.”

Then, that should have been that, right? But loathe as I was to admit, all the red flags that popped up when those people showed up excited me. The danger, the idea that it could all go south and I would be in peril, it was enticing. I didn’t even know why that was. Then, my thoughts drifted to its next logical conclusion: if I joined them, would I put others in danger as well?

At the time, I hated such a thought. I never wanted to put anyone else in danger. Plus, they spoke about improving humanity, not putting them in danger, right?

So, on the third morning, I said yes. I agreed to go with them. From then, there was Flashbulb University. There was the plan to integrate the Arts and Crafts and AV Club into the Fine Arts Department, and...there was my placement.

It didn’t take long for me to grow restless. Even with all the art supplies I requested fulfilled, it didn’t help. I’d create sculptures out of popsicle sticks. Dolls. But that wasn’t enough. Not even the assistants that I requested would be enough. I began to no longer see people as people, as the very idea of anyone else’s existence became absurd to me. All the echoed thoughts to keep me company, and in turn, the people who would come to support me became just like the supplies and food sent my way. Just props.

So then why did they get mad when I set one of their props on fire? I was only curious, that’s all. Earlier in my lifetime, I remembered witnessing houses set ablaze and wondering what it would be like had I been in the building. I only meant to find out what the experience was like, the sensation, through another. What about that was evil?

Without the ability to see outside my confines, finding inspiration grew difficult. To make matters worse, my past life, as an assistant, myself, had faded to such a degree that every memory held no environment. Just vague shapes and phrases. Left alone, of course I would grow desperate.

Enough. I lifted myself up. I was in enough pain, but the narrative needed to go on. Through secret panels, I stumbled through. Soon, Velvet and Coriander would meet me again. One of them weakened, the other a puppet. Then, they would meet each other.

“Looks like I must don my mustache and wizard cape and become Dr. Geppetto,” I shook my head and smiled. Those two may not have realized it, but I was prepared to help them in any way I knew how. That was what I said I would do and I refused to go back on my word.

One thing still perplexed me: if I was so evil in the eyes of my peers, why was I sealed away, rather than been disposed of? They could have sent a janitor to clean up the mess they made, but then I realized: isolating me was their clean up. Their damage control. As long as I wasn’t a threat to humanity, they saw no reason to paint me as a target.

Now, the question was, what decision would Velvet reach? I couldn’t wait to find out.

At the moment, I was dealing with some moving statues that were trying to smash me and tear me limb from limb. Then there was the imposing walls. Oh, and not to mention, there were little computer panels thrown about where I had to crack some codes in order for the walls to sink down and allow me passage through. Yes. You heard right. I couldn’t just punch through the walls.

Oh, but you’re probably wondering (hypothetical person) how I got into such a mess. To be honest, I was wondering the same thing. Hmm...ah! It was right after Dr. Fuckface put up a wall to separate Coriander and I. Due to such an unforgivable circumstance, I gave my not-official-girlfriend a free pass to beat the shit out of Dr. Art.

“I do hope she’ll be okay…” I paced about. That phrase repeated a few more times as I grew more and more anxious. “But what about me? I can’t just do nothing and wait my turn. I need to figure out a way to get back to her.”

As I began to walk back, a new wall shot up in front of me until I was trapped on both ends.

“Well isn’t this just grand!” I stomped my foot. Due to my attitude, it may have seemed like I was back at Full Velvet and my energy was restored. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I was just pissed.

To my side, the wall opened up to reveal a pathway.

“Oh, I see what’s going on!” I threw my hands up and trudged forward. It was just like in that “movie” she had me trapped in. No matter how many times we had the upper hand, we were just being pulled into another one of her traps with little room to find an exploit. I cupped my hands and yelled out, “I’ll have you know, I hate being railroaded!”

The passage didn’t go far; soon, it opened up and I found myself in a wide room, which at first seemed empty. Oh, how wrong I was.

Something shoved itself into me and knocked me onto the floor. I looked up to see a marble sculpture (or statue? Fuck. What’s the right terminology here? You know that one thing where there’s that clay guy with a tiny dick who stands around in a museum? Like, one of those things. Except the one I was face-to-face with didn’t really have any features. Like, I’m talkin’ none. Nada. No pussy out look, just a vague shape of a human with no face or nothin’) with arms in the air, and ready to smash.

I rolled out of the way, and once I got back to my feet, I ran for it.

There we go. Something like that was just what I needed to get myself back into gear, but then, another thought emerged. What if I stumbled into a dream again?

No. No thoughts like that!

Before I could get too far, a wall sprung up. Next to the wall also sprouted a computer panel. The obvious answer must have been to crack a code, so I began to get to work. From the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of statues run toward me.

Damn. How are they doing that?

So, I had to scramble to crack the code, but I was getting nowhere. Just when I thought I was getting the hang of things, the statues ganged up on me and both tried to punch me at the same time, but I ducked just in time, and they ended up punching each other instead and their heads rolled right off.

“Whew,” I wiped my forehead, but that relief was short lived, as another came charging in. That was when I had the bright idea to circle around the computer panel and have the statue and the panel collide with one another.

Spoilers: it worked. But also, it was a bad idea.

As the statue/sculpture (fuck it, it’s a statue) crashed into the computer, the combination resulted in an explosion which knocked me back. Once I got back up, I noticed that the wall in front of me had been demolished. Not only that, but something about the broken statue on the floor stood out to me: circuits and wires.

That explains it. They’re all robots. Or Terminators.

So now that all that background was out of the way, suffice to say, I went through a bit of trial and error with hordes of statues and walls appearing and disappearing, but it didn’t seem to end.

I began to huff and grow short on breath. I was beginning to wear down again and I knew that’s what she wanted, but I didn’t know what else I could do.

More came in greater numbers, surrounding me on all ends. I noticed a vent cover next to me that looked like I could fit in. Not seeing any other option, I ducked down and slipped through, closing the grate behind me. I crawled forward and upon emerging, found myself in another large room. This time, it was reminiscent of the initial room that we met Popsigirl in.

“All right. You probably had it planned that I would go through that, too!” I called out. That time, I got a response.

“Actually, I was planning on you cracking the code on one of the consoles, but it doesn’t matter what method you chose, because every path would have led you here!” She was a considerable distance away, and yet I could tell she was in the same room.

Like I said, I hated being railroaded.

“Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m on a platform next to the ceiling!” Was her response in an inappropriately chipper voice.

Dim spotlights started to shine down on the floor and that’s when I saw Coriander on the other end of the room, hunched over, head down.

“Hey! There you are!” I waved, and before I could get another word in, she flung herself forward and lunged at me. I moved out of the way, but I still felt my heart pound.

Did she lose control while facing Dr. Geppetto?

Coriander turned to the side and then swiped at me, and a wide cut etched its way onto my arm. I yelled out, but did not retaliate.

“Damn it,” I seethed. “That was a nasty cut.” The sting was still fresh, but she would not relent – she continued to swipe away in such awkward, jerking motions. I managed to avoid them that time.

She grunted and made sniffling sounds. I had a hard time distinguishing between whether she was in a frenzy or if she was in pain, but either way, I didn’t want her to stay in such a state.

“I know you’re in there somewhere! You can fight this!” I protested.

“Ugh! You idiot!” The words forced themselves out of her. That proves it: she’s definitely in pain. “I’m not being mind controlled! It’s my limbs!”

I froze. So that was it. My fists clenched, and all around, I shook.

“Dr. Lynch! Dr. Geppetto! I told you! That if you...if you…” That also shook. My voice. “I can’t forgive you! Do you hear me?”

“I’m okay with that! Kill me if you must! But first, you should worry about yourself.”

Coriander lunged once again with the knife. I jumped back, all the while, Dr. Geppetto provided commentary.

“You should have known that sooner or later, you’d have to make some hard decisions. Do you really expect to defeat The Flashbulb without anyone being killed? And if you do end up having to kill, what will you do with the bodies?”

While I tried to drown out her words, I failed to notice Coriander being pulled forward and the blade she held scratched me across my cheek. “I’m sorry!” She cried out after doing so and although I winced, I smiled.

“Why?” I covered my cheek with my hand. If I could avoid a few more hits, I would be golden. Two cuts, maybe a gash, that was enough. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Again, she swiped, but I leaned back and the blade missed me by about a good two inches or so.

“I fell for her trap! I became pulled along on these strings and forced to attack you! I can’t pull them off, I can’t break free!”

I continued to smile and nod. I’m sure both of us could tell that it was a forced smile, but I felt it as necessary a moment as any.

“It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. We both fell for her tricks.”

Her swipes grew more furious and to avoid them, I had to run. Not the ideal solution, but all I had to keep myself from being a bloody mess.

“Wow! Amazing! I thought you’d be worn out, but look at you go!”

“Please!” I retorted. “I’m running on adrenaline!”

Coriander was close behind me. I glanced over to see her gliding and floating.

“Go! Get to the exit! Leave me behind, or kill me if you have to, but just go!” Coriander pleaded.

I stopped in my tracks. She was about to strike down with the knife, but I grabbed her wrist.

“I’m not about to give up on you,” I grunted. “You can kill me if you want to, but I refuse to harm you.”

“I...I don’t want to!” She broke out in tears. “I have no choice! S-So, stop being foolish!” It must have been one of the strings, but she next tried to stomp her foot down on mine, but I caught on too quick and held her feet down with my own. She continued, “Defeating The Flashbulb is more important! So if I have to die, so be it! You need to see this through!”

I’m sure if it were any other protagonist, they’d probably accept that, deal the blow to their lover, and go on to save the day with a bittersweet feeling. But nah. That wasn’t it for me.

“Well sorry for being selfish, but I don’t want to defeat the big bad if you’re not next to me while I’m doing it!”

“Why?”

“Boring! I thought there’d be some stabbing, not a lovers’ quarrel! I wanted to see faces being ripped off!” Dr. Geppetto booed and hissed. Ignoring that, I kept my eyes on Coriander.

“Why? Because who ever said the day couldn’t be saved with you alive? Why should I have to choose when I can have both?” I leaned in, keeping my grip on her arm, and whispered in her ear, “hey, do you wanna break free?”

She mouthed the word ‘yes’, and that was all I needed. I gave her neck a peck and she got so flustered that she dropped the knife and I managed to catch it.

“Hey! Give it back!” Dr. Geppetto spat and used the strings to reach Coriander’s arms down to try to grab it from me, but I rolled away just in time, and once I got up, I cut loose the strings holding down one of Coriander’s arms. The rest was up to her.

She stretched her free arm a bit, rolled her fingers, then reached over to the arm that still wasn’t free and yanked down, causing Dr. Geppetto to fall down alongside the strings she must have been holding. The force and the height must have coupled together with such an intensity that once Dr. Geppetto hit the floor, a loud cracking sound was heard.

Coriander, now standing over the fallen artist, stared down and her breathing grew shorter, more hoarse.

“ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?! ARE YOU?!”

She wailed and repeated that phrase. I walked over to her, saw the body of the one who had caused us both torment, and hugged her from behind.

“It’s okay,” I leaned my head over her shoulder. “It’s okay.” She continued to sob and wail, but no more words. There wasn’t much else I could do but continue to hold her, and slowly, she calmed down, although still in tears.

It didn’t take us long to find the exit. Weary, I held on in order to figure out the code, and once I opened the door, we held each other up as we made our way out, into the light.

[tentoriwrites]

Learning Curve: Episode Six

Allies and Enemies @that-otome-potato

A group of affluent young men form a high school gang. Their goal is to bring peace to all the rival school gangs in their area. When an out of place girl at school threatens the peace and gains their attention, everything changes.

Episode Five

The weather was getting warmer, so she decided to take the afternoon watching everyone prepare for the school festival and the city-wide sports competition. Even though the sports competition was a few weeks out, everyone who planned on participating were practicing fiercely. It was a point of pride evidently. So there she sat on the bleachers watching Nobu and Toshi sumo wrestle. Every time she would cheer for Nobu, Toshi would scowl at her. But every time she cheered for Toshi, Nobu scowled at her.

“It’s an impossible place to be in when two friends are competing and you have to choose a side.”

“You can say that again.” She glanced over and found Nobu, young ward, Ranmaru was sitting next to her. She had been so taken in watching the match she hadn’t noticed him. “Mochi?”

“Did you make them?”

“Of course!”

“I would love some then!” She giggled at how enthusiastic he became after finding out she had made them.

“Are you competing in anything?”

“Maybe karate.” She giggled again at his surprised look. “Toshi taught me when we were younger and I’ve been taking classes again lately.”

“Ah… because of…”

“Not exactly.” She looked out at the field. “I have no intention of fighting, but… I also don’t want to be deadweight, you know? I don’t want to be protected all the time.”

“An admirable sentiment. However, I don’t think they will be many circumstances where you’ll have to defend yourself.” He seemed to be believe this statement whole-heartedly. “You have quite a few people who are keeping an eye on you.”

“They have more or less made that room in the restaurant their meeting room… And there seem to be more and more people coming and going lately.” She thought back on it and realized at least one of the Oda gang showed up there every day for the last few months.

“Have you decided if you’re going to the school festival?”

“I don’t have much choice now.” She sighed in resignation.

“Nobu ordered it so?”

“I couldn’t care less about him ordering me to go.”

“I WOULDN’T LET HIM HEAR YOU SAY THAT!” He looked around frantically. Only breathing a sigh of relief when he noticed Nobu was still wrestling Toshiie.

She rolled her eyes at his perceived dramatics and went on. “Kiyomasa told my Mom about it so now she’s insisting I go. Especially since she found the kimono Nobu gave me.”

“But you have reservations? You wouldn’t have to go alone. You have your pick of suitors!”

“It’s not that… My Father used to go to all the school festivals with me… So it’s a bit painful.”

“He’s no longer around then?”

“No.”

“I see.” He didn’t press the issue and she was glad for that. If she started talking about it at school, she wouldn’t not have kept it together. “I think, if I may be so bold to suggest, you should go with Nobu. Not because you would be conceding to his whims, but because his bodyguard is considerably older and very fatherly to all of us.”

“Do you mean Mr. Shibata?”

“Yes! Have you met him?”

“I think so. Is he a mountain of a man? Wears his hair in a ponytail?”

“Yes!” Ranmaru tried not to laugh too hard at her description. “I’m sure he would take right to you.”

“Hmmm… No, I think I’ll just go on my own. My Mom is going to make me one way or another. At least that way I can leave on my own guilt free.”

“I do believe I specified I don’t care who you go with.”

“As long as I go.” She finished Nobu’s harsh declaration for him. “And I am going!”

“You need to go with someone.” He gave her a piercing look. “Crowds are very dangerous and someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Ranmaru and Toshiie looked visbly disturbed by her rebuke. Each moving away slowly. Nobu’s eyes narrowed as he moved in on her.

“Do you propose you’ll use your martial arts to repel an attacker in a yukata?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” She withered a little but held his gaze. “But the idea is impractical at best.”

“At least you are smart enough to know your limits.” His expression eased slightly as he backed away. “Find an escort by the festival or I’ll stick you with old man Shibata.”

“Nobu, if I may have a word with you.” An unfamiliar voice finally took the attention off her.

“Ieyasu. I wasn’t expecting you.” Nobu addressed a curly headed blond in a school uniform she didn’t recognize.

“That’s Ieyasu. He’s the leader at a school closer to the bay. He’s one of Nobu’s allies in unifying the whole city.” Ranmaru very graciously alleviated her confusion. He went into detail describing the entourage with Ieyasu as well. Just as Ranmaru finished, the young man named Toramatsu walked up.

“Hello, Ranmaru.” He gave Ranmaru a friendly smile and a wave. “You must be the new member we’ve heard about.”

“I have a reputation among gangs now. Marvelous.” She blurted it out without meaning to.

“It’s nothing as bad as the rumors the students were saying about you before, from what I understand.” Toramatsu chuckled as he said so. “Welcome. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” She looked down at the serious expression on Nobu’s face and decide the conversation wasn’t going well.

“One of our biggest rivals showed up at our school yesterday. They would not give any specifics, but it seems they are going to issue a challenge revolving around sports competition.” Toramatsu explained quietly.

“What kind of challenge?”

“Knowing them, whoever wins the most events gets to continue pursuing unification.” Ranmaru answered her this time. He let out an exasperated sigh. I don’t understand why they cannot just work together.”

 The events of the afternoon weighed heavily on her mind as she walked home. So much so she didn’t notice anyone around her until she ran into them. A very sturdy them.

“Owe…” She rubbed her butt as she sat on the sidewalk. “OH! I’m so sorry!” before she could even think of getting up, she was already on her feet.

“It’s my fault for just standing around on the sidewalk like thaaaaatttt…” The young man’s voice turned distinctly frantic. He practically threw her hand away and bowed deeply. “Please forgive me! I hope you aren’t injured!”

His overzealous apology left her momentarily stunned until a deep laugh caught her attention. From behind the blue-eyed young man was a dignified looking guy with fiery red hair.

“You’ll have to forgive Yukimura. He has a very… profound respect for women.” The red-head explained as he stepped up and offered her his hand.

“Takeda Shingen.”

She offered her name as she shook his hand. “Were you looking for something to eat? I can personally recommend this restaurant seeing as my family runs it.”

Before she could get an answer, Yukimura grabbed her and threw her right into Shingen. Shingen proceeded to wrap his arms protectively around her. She was about to ask why when a rumble like the god of death itself made everything clear.

“You have something that belongs to me.” Nobu growled. It was calm veneer masking a seething anger just beneath the surface.

“I don’t see your name on her.” Shingen answered back challengingly.

“I shouldn’t have to mark my territory for dogs to know to stay off it.”

“What do you have to say about this?” Shingen released his grip a little. “Are you his?”

“That depends on what you mean exactly… We aren’t dating or anything but I guess I’m a member of his... umm… group?”

Shingen laughed at her ambivalent reply. “How can you expect to keep anyone around if you don’t make their status clear?”

“I’m in no mood for a lecture from the old guard clinging with pathetic desperation to the last vestiges of his youth.”

It was clear a fight was about to break out until her little brother through the door open. “Hey, sis! You gonna stand out here chit chatting with your 800 boyfriends or ya gonna get in here and help?”

“IT’S NOT LIKE THAT AT ALL, YAHIKO!” the fury of an embarrassed teenage girl overrode all other thoughts as she ran full speed through the door after him.

A moment later her Mother appeared. She looked back and forth at the tense situation. “I have no idea what’s going on out here but you can’t fight on an empty stomach. Your usual room is open so get on in here you lot!”

Begrudgingly, they all sat down in the private room to eat.

“Why are you here?” Mitsuhide broke the silence first with the question everyone wanted to know.

“To issue a challenge.” Shingen answered confidently. “Whoever wins the most contests at the sports days claims the right to unification. The loser stays out of the way.”

“That is what we suspected.” Mitsuhide answered gravely. “We are not inclined to accept your challenge.”

“Knowing you two, you don’t see a point. Pretty confident you can take over everything even if get in your way.” Shingen leaned back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest. “Or, you’re cowards.”

“Like hell we are!” Toshiie was on his feet in an instant.

“Sit down, Maeda.” Mitsuhide ordered him in a stern voice.

“Let’s make this interesting, shall we?” Shingen’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Whoever wins gets the girl and dominion.”

“Hey wait just a second here! It doesn’t matter if he agrees to that or not! You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do!” she got to her feet as she made her protest.

“She has an excellent point there.” Mitushide conceded as if it were the only point that needed made to end the whole proceedings.

“If we lose, I’ll see to it my family stops paying her tuition. It will be up to you to get her into your school.” Nobu’s quiet, calm voice shattered her whole world. Without saying anything else, he got up and left the room. Everyone heard him pay for his food and leave the building. Still, they all sat there in silence. After a long few moments, she too got to her feet and left the room as fast as she could so no one could see her crying.

Episode Seven: Dark Horses

[tcswritings]

Fate and fortune.

When Mick can’t get Mina, the fortune teller, out of his head the day after he met her, he decides to get a little support from a friend.

***

“I still can’t believe I’m up at this time on a Sunday.” Daryl groaned as he and Mick slendered past the colourful booths and trailers, breathing in the smell of roasted almonds and cotton candy. “Have you ever heard of ‘sleeping in’, man?”

“Aye, but you were so pissed ‘cause you couldn’t come yesterday, so I thought you might wanna join me today.” Mick replied cheerfully as the two now made their way through a little crowd of excited children, careful to not step on any little feet.

“Yesterday was Saturday!” Daryl moaned. “I would’ve hit up some beer cart, get pissed and have a great time, knowing I wouldn’t have to be at work the next day.”

“You have a serious problem, man. Try and enjoy yerself for once without a drop of booze or whatever-the-fuck-you’re-on-at-the-time some day, aye?”

“Yeah, maybe just stick your holier-than-though attitude up your arse, ‘cause if I remember correctly, you were pretty into whatever-the-fuck-I’m-on when-”

“Not the point.” Mick smiled lazily.

“My life is hard, Mick.” Daryl sighed dramatically. “Damn kids at university make me realise that I’m gettin’ old.”

“Yer twenty-six, hardly older than all of them. And I’m takin’ a wild guess here, maybe, but I think it’s yer hangover that makes you feel old right now.”

“It’s not a hangover!” Daryl sounded appalled. “I was at work yesterday, mind you. Only had a few beers with colleagues afterwards. You just don’t understand what it feels like not to be healthy and in shape like you are.”

“You’re cranky. Stop that, it ruins my mood.” Mick smiled to himself, his friend’s whining amused him greatly.

“It’s Sunday morning, what else could I be but cranky?” Daryl moaned as he looked around the place. “Where are we heading at, anyway?”

“Ah, nowhere. Just lookin’ around, y’know.” Mick shrugged and put his hands into his pockets.

“Nah, you’re not, you’re looking for something.”

“What makes ya think so?”

“You’re not even really looking at anything? You seem awfully determined.” Daryl nagged.

“Okay, I’m lookin’ for somethin’ then. Better said, someone. Here, wait.” Mick stopped right next to a little coffee cart and reached into the pocket of his jeans for his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a piece of pale pink paper, handing it to Daryl who unfolded it, read it and drew his eyebrows together.

“What’s this? Who’s Mina?”

“A fortune teller at this fair.” Mick replied a little absent-mindedly, as his eyes now wandered around the fairground.

“That raises a lot more questions than it answers, man.”

“What? Oh, yeah.” Mick snatched the note out of Daryl’s fingers again. “Declan had a funny moment yesterday and he dragged me into this fortune teller’s trailer.”

“What the hell?” Daryl raised an eyebrow. Declan wasn’t exactly known for believing in the fine arts of divination.

“Aye, that’s what I thought. Anyway, kinda expected some wrinkled old eerie hag inside, yanno, but she was young and cute. We talked, she told me some really weird things about myself and when we went back out, I found that paper in my pocket.”

“You wooed a fortune teller? Okay, that’s kind of cool? What weird things did she tell you about yourself that you didn’t know yet?”

“I’ll be damned if I know, didn‘t get half of it, to be honest, but the note says she wants to see me again and-”

“Wait. Are you saying that you’re taking me on a DATE with you?!” Daryl’s eyes went wide. “Mick, what the fuck?”

"It’s not a date!?”

“Oh god, do I really have to tell you how fucked up that is?!”

Mick rolled his eyes at his friend. “It’s not a date!”

“I wanna go back to bed!”

“It’s not a date, Daryl, just hear me out!”

“Do you need a chaperon for your first date? What the hell, why-”

“It’s not. a. date! ” Mick repeated impatiently. “I mean, there might be one, maybe but-”

“But you thought you’d take me first and... well, do what exactly?!”

“Do nothing. This is not a date and you’re not supposed to be a chaperon.”

“So you’re just taking me to randomly look at some hot woman or what?”

“You don’t even know what she looks like?”

“Oh c’mon, I know she’s hot. You always get the hot ones.” Daryl shrugged and crossed his arms, looking up and shooting his friend a challenging look.

“I didn’t get anyone. That's not what this is about.” 

“Is it that you saw her in twilight yesterday and now you wanna make sure she’s also hot during daylight before you ask her out?”

“What, Daryl-”

“ And when she’s not, you’re gonna introduce her to me?”

Squinting in disgust and also lost for words a little, Mick looked down at his friend. “You. are. sick."

“No, you. are. weird. Bringing me along to your dates now - yeah, yeah I know, it’s not a date. Just tell me already what I’m doing here, Michael!”

“Okay, alright!” Mick rolled his eyes. “Well, uhm. That’s a bit- well. Okay, I promise that it ain’t gonna be weird or so, just come an’ look at her for a bit, maybe?”

“Why?” Daryl shrugged. “You want a stamp of approval? I’m sure she’s smart and beautiful, they all are.”

“Exactly!”

At this point, Daryl was completely lost. “Okay, now you’re no longer making sense. Not that you ever do but-”

“That’s exactly the point, man! A smart and beautiful woman slips me a note, askin’ to see me again.”

“So...?”

“I can’t handle that. Y’ know my dating history is fucked up. It’s too much. I shut down, I need help.”

“Oh wow, so... basics, eh? Alright, when a girl and a boy like each other, they sometimes-”

“Daryl.” Mick sighed, closing his eyes in exasperation.

“Oh my god, sorry, I just can’t believe that you’re being so... I mean, are you trying to tell me that you’re...”

“Am what?”

“You’re insecure?! About a situation that’s so plain simple?”

“Hell yeah, of course I’m fuckin’ insecure!?”

“I don’t believe it.” Daryl let out a baffled laugh. “Elvenlike, six-foot-five pretty boy Mick O’Loughlin is insecure.”

“This ain’t about looks, man. It’s about...well, this.” Mick wiggled the note between his fingers. “When do things like that ever happen, eh? They certainly don’t happen to me? You know that. It’s a spoof, it must be. She’s a stunner and she was nice. What would she want with me? Huh? Maybe she was just takin’ a piss outta me yesterday!”

Daryl shot his friend a confused look. “Why would she? I mean, what reason could she even have?”

“I dunno! That’s the point, I don’t get women! Just come with me for five minutes, say hi and later tell me if ya think she looked genuinely interested or not. Can’t risk and judge the situation all by myself. I’m stupid. Ya know I’m stupid!”

“Well? You’re kinda giving off some really pathetic teenager vibes right now, I’ll give you that?”

“Aye, I know! How could I not? I can’t see any reason why any gal would do such a thing with me, okay?”

“Mick, what the fuck, that’s- that’s so sad, man.” Daryl sighed. “Maybe just think about it for a bit. She managed to slip a note into the pocket of your jeans without you noticing. That takes guts and some effort. Of course she’s interested!”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah! Besides, it’s usually you who’s good at reading body language. What’s wrong, are you broken or something?

“Somethin’ like that, aye?”

Mick let out a heavy breath, his eyes still wide in panic and Daryl realised that his friend was genuinely freaking out. There was a little pause and that’s when he understood.

To say he was truly broken was probably quite an overstatement but after all that happened to him in regards to dating matters, it was probably just a logical consequence that Mick felt as anxious as he did. Daryl still didn’t quite get behind the self-doubts but if it made his friend feel better, he would do him the favour, that was out of question.

“You like her, then?” he eventually asked.

“I dun’ know her but I liked the way she talked to me? Little weird, sure, but sweet. And she read my palm and what she read wasn’t all to bad, apparently, ‘cause she didn’t throw me outta her house. Uh, trailer, I mean, I dunno if she actually lives in that thing?”

“Makes sense.” Daryl nodded, suppressing a laugh. “Just one more thing. Taking me on this expedition and not, let’s say, Orla or someone who actually knows something about women... you’re desperate, huh?”

“Orla is busy with that weirdo Pete, Jessie is spending the weekend with Ann and I’m kinda fuckin’ desperate, aye.”

“I’m the last resort.” Daryl closed his eyes and put his hand over his heart. “I’m swooning with friendship feelings.”

“Nah, I’d still prefer ya over Declan in those matters, if that’s any consolation?”

“Yeah, he’s the worst, I gotta give myself that credit.”

“And hey, I don’t plan to go on any date today so we can later see him and Ash in the hospital and maybe hit up Rosamund’s afterwards.”

“Now we’re talking.” Daryl nodded again and gave Mick a pat on his shoulder. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s go and look at your lady and pretend we’re just passing by.”

Mick closed his eyes and let out a relieved sigh, putting his hands together and bowing slightly. “Thanks.”

“Hey, if you blow this again, can I have her?”

“Not funny.”

“Too soon? Sorry. C’mon, let’s find her.”

***

Mina Malone sat in her rocking chair on the little front porch of her mother’s old trailer. It had just started raining, just a little, but the large and colourful parasol that was fitted to the porch’s railing served her as reliable rain protection and the slight breeze made the little windbells over the trailer’s entrance door chime and the lovely sound of it as well as the soothing bickering of the raindrops made Mina feel very content and peaceful. She had always liked the rain and it’s sound, and she could never quite comprehend why most people avoided going outside on a rainy day while it could be so refreshing.

Of all seasons, Mina had always loved autumn most and there was a chance that her favourite time of the year could even get a little more exciting this year than she had anticipated so far. Her mind wandered back to the handsome stranger who had visited her trailer yesterday, together with his friend. Smiling to herself, she turned the page of the magazine she was reading, wondering if he had already found her note. He must have; she had made sure to slip it into the pocket where he kept his cigarettes. (Unless he had made the decision to quit smoking the moment he left, but Mina highly doubted it.)

While his friend seemed to be of the loud and attention-seeking kind, the young man she had laid her eyes on striked her as unassuming, quiet and thoughtful, despite his impressive stature. He was very tall and lean and he had an unusual, handsome face and the colour of his eyes was out of this world. She wondered whether he was aware of his charisma. Probably not; he seemed generally confused when she addressed him; as if he was used to people going for his outspoken friend first, which she couldn’t comprehend at all. Not to say that the friend left a bad impression but it was certainly not him who had drawn her right in. 

A man’s husky voice interrupted Mina’s thoughts.

“Excuse me? Miss? Are you the hot fortune teller?”

“Daryl, what the fuck?” another man’s voice hissed. A slightly deeper, fuller voice which startled her - she had heard the voice and the accent not too long ago.

Frowning, Mina looked up from her magazine and turned her head. She spotted two tall figures standing several metres away from her trailer, huddling together under a black umbrella and expectantly looking up at her. One of the two had an unruly mane of bright red hair and he was all clad in black and when she eventually recognised the other man, her heart skipped a beat.

It was him. Her green-eyed stranger from yesterday.

Thank you, fate, I owe you big time!

Trying to hide her excitement, Mina put her magazine away and stood up from her chair. When she leaned on the porch’s reiling, she smiled down at the two. “Who wants to know?”

“I do! Oh, and I brought back your boyfriend!” the redhead pointed to his friend, who closed his eyes in what seemed to be embarrassment.

“Oh my god.” he groaned and Mina had to swallow down a laugh.

He looked just as adorable as she remembered him.

“Well, I am a fortune teller!” she eventually said. “Not sure about the ‘hot’, though.”

“Well, I was brought here to confirm that you are.” the redhead nodded, and he held up his hand, his thumb and index finger forming an ‘O’ which earned him a firm slap to the back of his head from his friend.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Handsome Stranger hissed.

“Ow, what? Isn’t that why you brought me here in first place-”

“You were supposed to look, not fuckin’ talk!”

“I always talk, what exactly made you think this would be an exception?”

Mina crossed her arms in amusement as she watched the two guys banter for a while until she decided to chime in again. She leaned forward on the reiling.

“Can I help you two with something, maybe?” she beamed. “Some palm reading? Tarot cards? Meditation? I’m not so good with crystal balls, but they’re not reliable anyway. Too foggy.”

The ginger man laughed at the remark but Handsome Stranger still seemed reluctant.

“I dunno, I just kinda-” He paused, apparently at a loss of how to go on.

“You just kinda came by to say hello?” Mina suggested with a warm, inviting smile, leaning a little further over the reiling.

He smiled back. “Aye, I guess?”

“You could’ve called? I left you my number. In a really old-school manner that I’m very proud of, by the way.”

“Aye, I know. It’s just that...” Handsome Stranger bit his lip and looked over to his friend, then back up at her. “Uhm. Don’t- please don‘t make me explain that.” 

How cute can someone even be? “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m happy you’re here! You two want a drink? I just made some tea!”

“Actually,” the redhead said, “I still have a few things to do.” He turned to his friend. “How about I go and see Declan and we meet in the bar later this evening?”

“I dunno, I said I would join you-”

“Mick, I am being your best friend in the world right now. Don’t be stupid.” The ginger friend smiled and reached up to give her stranger - Mick - an encouraging pat on the back. “Later then! ‘t was a pleasure, Miss Mina!” he called up at her before he snatched the umbrella out of Mick’s hand, waved the two goodbye and took off.

Mina and Mick looked after him for a few moments and when he eventually turned around again, Mick let out an apologetic sigh.

“I’m sorry, he’s a bit of a, uh... a bit of a weirdo.”

“He seems kind of eccentric, yeah?” Mina laughed and nodded. “I like that.”

“Well, good for me, I guess?”

“So. Mick. That’s really your name?”

“Michael, actually. Everyone calls me Mick, though. Please- please do. Any time someone calls me Michael, it feels like my mother calls me out for some shit I did.”

Mina let out a hearty laugh. “Okay? It’s cute, I like it. So, you wanna stay down there and get soaked or do you wanna come up and keep me company?”

“That depends.” Mick bit his lip as he eventually approached the porch and casually put his arms up on the reiling. “Uhm. Seems like you got cozy on yer porch but, I dunno, would y’ join me out there? At the fair, I mean?” He pointed back into the direction he came from.

“So, you don’t wanna talk to me?”

“Nah, yeah, I do, it’s just that I’m much better at these things when I don’t have to sit still and focus.” Seeing Mina’s slightly confused expression, he quickly added: “Okay, well, uh, that came out wrong, it’s not that I don’t wanna listen to you, it’s, uh, well...” He eventually let out a little sigh. “Okay, let’s just say I’m eccentric, too.”

“Funny, I had a feeling right away.” Mina replied with a little smirk. “Well, I think I can close the trailer for an hour or so? It’s almost lunch after all and it doesn’t take a whole lot to foretell that I’m gonna be hungry soon... alright, I’d love to join you for a little stroll!”

“You have an umbrella?”

“Won’t need one.”

“But it’s raining and Daryl - I mean, my weird friend - just took mine.”

“It’ll stop in a bit, I’m sure. And I have a hood, see?” Mina turned her back at Mick for a moment, showing off her purple hoodie.

“Well, that should do it.” he smiled, secretly admiring her shape. “You come down here?”

“Of course.”

Mick held out his hand to her. Being smitten with his little gesture of chivalry, she placed hers in it and lightly hopped down the few stairs.

“Take me away, stranger!”

***

The Dirty Deed was about half full at six thirty in the evening. Busy murmur as well as the cheerful clinking of glasses filled the air and Daryl had been half-listening to his fast-rambling friend for a good while now. Orla was pouring her heart out to him about her current... he couldn’t quite remember as what exactly she referred to him, probably ‘boyfriend’, but he couldn’t be sure. It was hardly a real conversation anyway, Orla did most of the talking, while he just nodded and “Hmm!”ed in the what he hoped to be right moments and while Daryl usually enjoyed Orla’s views on men and, above all, her insight into the female mind a lot, his mind just kept drifting off today. 

“... and well, I guess Peter and I are kind of official now?”

“Hmm.” Daryl nodded.

“I mean, I dunno. Would you say we are?!”

“What? Uhm, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

“Yeah, sure, it’s just-“ Orla stopped and made a face when Daryl picked up his phone for the umpteenth time today and she had to admit that she was a little irritated by his lack of attention by now. 

“Why are you checking your phone every five minutes?” Orla nudged Daryl’s side, trying to get a glimpse at his phone’s screen.

“Waiting for a message.” Daryl replied, holding the phone out of Orla’s reach as she tried to snatch it away.

“Yeah, d’uh, I figured? A message from whom?”

“Mick.”

“Why are you wating for a message from Mick?”

Daryl looked over to Orla now. “Why are you asking stupid questions? he’s my friend, he’s allowed to message me?”

“Yeah, I know, I’m friends with him, too, but I’m not waiting for him to randomly message me on a Sunday while I’m talking about stuff to another friend?!”

“Who said it’s random? I just wanna know how his date went, that’s all.”

“What? What date?” Orla frowned.

“Did someone say date? Who’s on a date?” Rosamund called as she hurried over from the other side of the bar, where she had just handed a few other guests their drinks. She leaned on the counter, very eager to absorb every bit of gossip from her favourite young guests.

“Holy shit, her hearing ability is insane.” Daryl muttered but Orla wasn’t going to drop the subject.

“No one’s on a date?” she said to Rosamund. “I mean, I’d know if Mick was dating, wouldn’t I?”

“Not if he only met her yesterday, after you took off!”

“Mick is dating?” Rosamund exclaimed cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“He’s not dating!” Orla insisted. “He’d tell me first!”

“Yeah well, maybe he didn’t want to disturb you while you were busy fucking Pizza Pete last night.”

“Daryl, that’s-”

“Oh my god. I need to know everything!” Rosamund blatantly interrupted Orla. “Who is she? How did they meet? Was it love at first sight? Oh wait, you guys have been to the fair yesterday, right? He didn’t even tell me that he met someone while he was here last night!”

“Because he hasn’t!” Orla interfered firmly but Rosamund didn’t pay attention to her.

“Oh my god, did they just bump into each other in front of a balloon cart? Did their eyes meet? Oh damn, it would take a really tall girl to meet Mick’s eyes just like that. Is she tall?”

Daryl made a face at the barkeeper. “You seem particularly interested in Mick’s love life. No offense, Rose, but that’s extremely weird.”

“Ah, no, come on, lad, you’re weird.” Rosamund snapped. “All I’m sayin’ is that he deserves being happy for once. Don’t you think? He’s too precious to die alone.”

“Like he can’t be happy on his own!?” Orla grumbled. “Alright, enough of this nonsense. Daryl, once and for all, if Mick was really dating, I’d be the first to know! He’s my best friend, mind you.”

“And I’m telling you that, for once, I happen to know more than you do!” Daryl grinned at his friend, speaking slowly, savouring every moment of the - admittedly - rather unusual circumstance.

Just when Orla tried to come up with a clever comeback, Daryl’s phone buzzed. All three simultaneously turned their heads and stared at the device on the counter. Daryl picked the phone up and unlocked it and when he saw that the two women were still curiously staring at him, he frowned.

“Some privacy, please?!” He turned around on his bar stool, away from Orla and Rosamund. “You two are worse than my mother, Jesus Christ.” he muttered, only to let out a pretty un-daryl-esque squeal of joy in the next moment. “Hah! It’s him. He’ll be here in a minute. Ask him yourself when he gets here, I already said too much anyway.”

“Yeah, and once he gets here, we’ll all see that you’ve been trying to wind us up with this whole ‘Mick is dating’ crap.” Orla snorted, picking up her empty glass and holding it out to the barkeeper.

Rosamund took the glass and dug out the bottle of ginger ale from under the bar.

“Orla dear,” she began as she poured her guest a new drink, “you’re not suggesting that our boy can’t find himself a lady, eh? ‘Cause that would be kinda cruel, considering that the two of you are oh-so-best friends and supposed to see the best in each other?”

“Ah, come on, that’s not what I meant?” Orla replied. “It’s just... I know he doesn’t open up just like that. Not right after he met someone. It took Leila weeks to win him over!”

“Yeah, that was because Leila is Leila.” Daryl said. “You know better, Orla, and you know it just takes the right person sometimes and, I dunno, correct me if I’m wrong but I’m kinda getting a feeling here that you merely... well, how am I supposed to say this - “ he made a dramatic pause, “- hate the thought that he might open up to a lady who is not you?”

Rosamund snorted as she handed Orla back her freshly filled glass.

“Whoa, that’s bullshit?” Orla snapped back and also shot the barkeeper an offended look. “If he found someone like that, well... I’d be happy for him, of course!”

“Well, here’s your chance to tell him just that!” Daryl said as he stretched a little to look over Orla’s head through the hallway to the pub’s entrance. He waved over to Mick who had just stepped inside, shaking off the rain and taking off his jacket, hanging it up on one of the little hooks in the hallway.

“Fuckin’ rain, man.” Mick grumbled as he hurried inside, leaning over the counter to Rosamund who greeted him with a kiss to his cheek that he returned.

“Ugh, you’re soaked.” the barkeeper shuddered but eventually smiled warmly at him. “Why, hello handsome. The usual?”

“Nah, I’ll have a coke.” Mick answered as he also gave his friends some heartfelt hugs and he took the seat on the right next to Daryl.

“Sorry I took your umbrella earlier.” Daryl said sheepishly as he looked at Mick whose hair was really dripping wet.

“Aye, that was a bit of an arsehole move.” Mick nodded and he thanked Rosamund as she handed him his drink, raising the glass and taking a large sip. The glass still at his mouth, he looked around and noticed that the three of them were staring at him expectantly for some weird reason. He frowned and lowered his glass a little.

“Why are y'all lookin’ at me like that?”

“Nothing? Drink up, laddie.” Rosamund said.

“Yeah, it’s nothing!” Orla shook her head, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Just happy to see you.”

“Ugh, no, come on.” Mick groaned, rolling his eyes at Daryl. “You told them.”

“I, uh, kind of did, yeah.”

“Why would you do that?!”

“They made me do it!” Daryl shrugged, and both Rosamund and Orla gasped.

“OY, don’t blame this on us, y’ nasty little fucker?!” Rosamund protested.

“Yeah, you could’ve thought of an excuse when I asked you what you were doing with your phone earlier? Instead you just-” She paused, looking like she just got hit by a truck. “Wait. Does that mean- wait, so you actually met someone?” she asked Mick.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Mick groaned, lighting himself a cigarette. “I just got here, lemme have my drink in peace.”

“Please tell me you two screwed your brains out, ‘cause she totally looked like she was up for that!” Daryl said.

“What is wrong with you?!” Mick shot back, sounding exhausted and looking like he was battling a giant headache. Daryl could have that effect on people at times.

“It’s why I left you guys alone, man, she was looking at you like she was ready to-”

“Please, for fuck’s sake. leave me alone. All of you.”

There was silence for a few moments and, surprisingly, it was Mick himself who broke it again.

“Okay. Y’all listen. Aye, I met someone. Yesterday. No, we did not screw our brains out and yes, I’m gonna meet ‘er again. On Tuesday, to be exact. She seems really great and I don’t wanna blow it before it even started and that’s all I have t' say for now.”

Rosamund clapped her hands again, looking more than statisfied. “That’s some good news, laddie. I’ll drink to that later. Oi, I can’t wait to tell Elias-”

“Nah, yer not gonna tell anyone, especially not Father Moore. Any time I date, or try to date someone, happens seldom anyway, he always looks at me like I’m gonna pull a Declan and get meself some illegitimate hellspawn, just because it’s cool.” Mick paused and bit his lip again. “... and that sounded really horrible, y’know, given the circumstances. Dammit.”

“It’s alright, lad. We know you didn’t mean it like that.” Rosamund assured him.  “The wee one will be back on his lil’ feet in no time, we all know it.” she insisted, her voice firm, as she poured all three of them as well as herself new drinks. “Hey, you’re awfully quiet, dear!” she eventually said to Orla.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I just... sorry, I was lost in thoughts.” Orla smiled and raised her glass. “To Ash, eh?”

“To Ash.” the other three nodded in agreement, clinking their glasses together.

There was another moment of silence until Rosamund decided to approach the lighter subject again.

“Alright, just one more thing!” she looked back at Mick who already prepped himself up to utter some more heartfelt protest. “No, don’t roll your eyes at me, this is important. Did you at least kiss her, laddie? ‘Cause, if you ask me, that’s a must in the early stage of dating. You can’t date someone without knowing if you click in that area?!”

Caught off guard by the question, Mick let out a surprised laugh. When Rosamund and also Daryl kept looking at him expectantly, he merely gave a little shrug and smiled down into his glass.

(... to be edited/polished/continued! Just had to get this off my chest now ‘cause I was in a mood. :3)

[emospritelet]

Chapter 7 is up, in which past!Weaver and Lacey prepare for their new life together, with ‘help’ from those around them.

Cover art by the awesomely beautiful @timelordthirteen

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

AO3 link

Three years and eight months earlier

Weaver found that the news of his impending fatherhood gave him insomnia.  After Lacey had gone to bed, he stayed up until three in the morning researching pregnancy, childbirth and how to arrange a wedding in the quickest time possible.  He wasn't about to do anything without speaking to Lacey first, but upon looking into it, he found that they could wrap the whole thing up within a matter of days if they could find someone to perform the ceremony. He didn’t want a fuss, and he suspected Lacey felt the same way.

By the time he finally went to bed he was exhausted, and was woken at seven by a knock on the door.  He groaned into the pillow, burying his face in it in denial of it being morning.

“You wanted me to wake you, remember?”

He rolled onto his back with a sigh, to see Lacey standing there in loose pants and a vest, her dark curls rumpled and a cup of coffee in one hand.  It was like old times, but for the sad look in her eyes. He wished he could make her smile again.

“Thanks,” he said wearily, sitting up and running his hands over his face, and she set the cup down on his nightstand, sitting on the edge of his bed with her hands folded in her lap.

“So,” she said, glancing at him.  “Did you actually get any sleep?”

Weaver let his hands drop, meeting her eyes.  She looked nervous, as though she was half-expecting him to go back on his own suggestion and throw her out again.

“Yeah,” he said.  “I mean I didn’t get a lot.  I spent most of the night reading up on what we’d need to do to sort a quick wedding out.  The ceremony itself only takes around fifteen minutes, and it turns out that if we can find someone who’s ordained, we just need to apply for a licence and wait three days.”

“Roni’s ordained,” said Lacey.  “I remember her telling me she married a couple of guys that go to the bar. We could ask her.”

“Is she?”  He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.  “Well, that could make things easier. Would you be okay with that?”

Lacey chewed her lip.

“I think it’d be - nice,” she said.  “Having someone we know.”

“Then we can go and see her today,” he said.  “If you like.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll need a couple of witnesses, too,” he added.  “I thought I’d ask Fa and Dunbroch. Just so they get the opportunity to take the piss out of me, really.”

He grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but Lacey regarded him soberly with her blue eyes, silent, almost accusing. He wanted to sigh, but he kept going.

“Anyone you want to be there?”

Lacey hesitated for a moment, but shook her head.

"I'll give you some money for a new dress, if you like," he added, and she eyed him.

"What are you going to wear?"

"I own a grand total of one suit," he admitted.  "And honestly it could be a bit tight.  Haven't worn it since I ditched the cigarettes."

Lacey smiled faintly.

"Well, don't be uncomfortable on my account," she said.  "Buy yourself something new, you cheapskate.  Or wear jeans, if you want.  Not like this is gonna be a Hello celebrity wedding special, is it?"

He smiled at that, but she dropped her gaze, looking at her hands, and he put his head to the side, trying to catch her eye.

“What about after?” he asked.

“After?”

“It’s traditional to go on honeymoon.”

Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“I think I’d rather just stay in town.”

“You sure?” he asked.  “When I say honeymoon, I was - I was just meaning a break, a change, that's all.  Just a few days.  I could drive us out of the city. Could be nice to get a little fresh air.”

She was silent, and he sighed, deciding to change the subject.

“What about you?” he asked.  “How did you sleep?”

Lacey shrugged.

“I slept okay,” she said.  “Indigestion. Shouldn’t have eaten all those hot wings.”

“Sorry.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Nah, it’s one of those pregnancy things,” she said.  “My body wants spicy food even though my brain keeps telling me it’s gonna hurt if I eat it.”

“Is there something I can get you for that?”

She gave him a tiny grin.

“More hot wings?”

Weaver returned the grin.

“I can see I’ll have to save you from yourself.”

“Well, you do like to do that,” she said dryly, and his grin widened.

“So apart from the indigestion, you slept okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking around.  “It - it feels kinda like being home.  Comforting. It’s weird.”

“Oh.”  He picked up his coffee.  “Well, good. You know this is your home now, right?”

She nodded, concentrating on her fingers as she tapped them together, and he took a sip of coffee before setting down his cup.

“Why did you go to Maine?” he asked quietly, and Lacey glanced up, catching her lower lip in her teeth for a moment before letting it go and looking away.

“Looked up an old friend,” she said dismissively.

“Were you there long?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“Long enough to work out I was pregnant.”

“Ah,” he said, as though he understood.  He wished he fucking did. “Your friend knows, then?”

“Yeah,” said Lacey softly.  “They - uh - told me to come back here.”

Or else you wouldn’t have?  He shoved the thought away as soon as it formed.  They could talk about why she had left so abruptly some other time.

“You sure you don’t want to invite them to the wedding?” he asked.  Lacey shook her head.

“Long way to come for fifteen minutes, right?”

“I guess,” he said, and sipped his coffee.  “Did you eat breakfast?”

Lacey gave him a flat look.

“What would I eat?” she asked.  “You have nothing.  Did you go back to living on coffee and bloody cheese slices the moment I left, or did it take you all of a week?”

He grinned at that.

“Okay, how about we go to Granny’s and get breakfast, then?” he said.

“If we can go grocery shopping afterwards,” she agreed, and patted his shoulder.  “Get your arse out of bed and buy me pancakes.”

She sauntered out, and his grin widened.  She hadn’t changed that much.

x

Weaver spent the morning organising his domestic situation as best he could.  Breakfast was followed by grocery shopping, which was something like the old days, him pushing the cart while Lacey tossed whatever she wanted in it, and then a frenzied dash back around the store when they realised they didn’t have anything to make a decent meal with.  They then went to apply for a marriage licence, and he was relieved to see that Lacey seemed a little more enthusiastic about the idea than she had the previous day. It gave him hope that they could make a success of their new life, despite the inauspicious start.

He had work that afternoon, and so after they had gotten Roni’s surprised but immediate agreement to perform the wedding ceremony, he headed off to the precinct, leaving Lacey with Roni, at her request.

Fa wasn’t in the office, which made him frown in puzzlement.  She hadn’t called to tell him that she would be late, and he hoped she hadn’t decided to go chasing after some new lead without waiting for backup.  Unlike her, to be sure; of the two of them, she was the more sensible, cautious one, but he was protective of her nonetheless. Especially given what had happened with Nolan.  She wasn’t answering her phone, either, and he sighed in frustration, leaving her a curt message telling her to call. There were new cases on his desk, but none of them looked especially interesting, and so he checked through his emails instead.  Merida pushed a cup of coffee at him as he dealt with the last of them.

“You look like crap,” she said.  “What kept you awake this time?”

“The thought of seeing you,” he said absently, and she snorted, smacking his shoulder and making him smirk.

“Mulan said to tell you that she’ll be back around three, by the way,” she said.  “Personal time, nothing to worry about.”

Weaver looked up with a wicked grin.

“First name terms now, is it?” he said.  “I was wondering when you two would pull your heads out of your arses.”

Merida blushed a deep red.

“Shut up, it’s no’ like that!”

“Did you forget I’m a bloody detective?” he asked mildly.  “Finding out people's secrets is what I do."

“Can’t find your arse with both hands, most days,” she said, her deep blush clashing wonderfully with her red hair.  

Weaver inclined his head.

"Well, I’ve had to put up with months of you two making heart-eyes at one another over the forensic results,” he said.  "Hardly the biggest mystery I've ever had to crack.  Just bloody ask her out before I do it for you."

"Don't you bloody dare," snapped Merida, still blushing.  “Have you looked at those new files yet?”

“Give me a bloody chance,” he grumbled, reaching for the files.  “Are any of these urgent? I’m planning on taking a week off starting Thursday.”

“Since when?”

“Since now.”

He sipped at the coffee she had given him, and Merida picked up her own cup, frowning curiously.

“What’s with the time off all of a sudden?” she asked, flicking her hair back.  “Drake usually has to kick you out of this place to get you to take a break. You get a new hobby or something?”

“Not exactly,” he said.  “I’m getting married.”

It was gratifying to see her choke on her coffee, and he couldn’t help grinning as she glared at him, setting down the cup on his desk hard enough that coffee slopped over the rim, splattering outwards in a dark brown sunburst.

“Since when, you arsehole?” she demanded.

“Since yesterday,” he said, opening up a file.

“Since—”  She threw up her hands.  “What the bloody hell happened when I was sleeping?”

“Lacey,” he said heavily.  “Turned up out of the blue after four months.  No idea what she’s been up to, but she’s back, and she’s moving in with me. Permanently.”

“I thought that was her I saw yesterday,” she said thoughtfully, and ran a hand through her hair.  “I mean, I know you two had some kind of weird thing for each other, but I figured that she liked older guys and you were just a pervert.”

“Thanks a fucking bunch,” he said, in a flat tone.  “It was never like that. We were friends, that’s all.”

“And you’re jumping from ‘friends’ to ‘she does a bunk for four months’ to ‘married’?” she said sceptically.  “You sure that’s the logical next step for you two idiots?”

“Well, I found out I’m gonna be a father in five months,” he said dryly.  “Tends to concentrate the mind.”

Her eyes bulged at that.

“Are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack today?” she spluttered. “Lacey’s pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“So when you say you were ‘friends’...”

“It happened once,” he said impatiently.  “She left right after. I woke up and she was gone.”

“You need to work on your technique,” she observed, grinning.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said.  “By the way, are you busy Thursday afternoon? I need a best man - or woman, I guess - and the only other candidate can’t make it.”

He gave her the briefest of smiles, and she sent him a sober look.

“Still no word?” she asked, and Weaver sighed.

“I went to the hospital yesterday,” he said.  “There’s no change, although they say he could wake up anytime.  Could be hours, could be days. Could be never.”

His voice trailed off, and he looked down at the open file in front of him, pretending to concentrate on its contents but seeing nothing.

“Well,” said Merida, her cheerfulness sounding a little forced.  “Guess I’ll have to be your best woman, then, since you’re such a fucking loser you only have like three friends.”

He grinned at that.

“I don’t have to give a bloody speech, do I?” she asked, and he sighed again.

“Believe me, this is the opposite of a formal occasion,” he said.  “I really only need you there as a witness, to be honest.  It'll be a short ceremony, followed by drinks at Roni’s. I might spring to some food if anyone’s hungry.”

“Seattle’s socialites are gonna lose their shit at missing out on this one.”

“Will you come or not?”

“Fine,” she sighed, sounding put-upon.  “Anyone else attending the wedding of the year?”

“I’ll ask Fa, obviously,” he said.  “Roni’s agreed to perform the ceremony. That’s pretty much it.”

“Where are you going on honeymoon?” she asked, winking at him.

“We’re not.”

“What?”  She shook her head.  “Fuck’s sake, man, you’re marrying a gorgeous girl less than half your age and you can’t spring for a weekend away?”

“I asked,” he said.  “She said she didn’t want to leave town.”

“I’m guessing no pre-wedding party either.”

“She’s pregnant,” said Weaver repressively.  “And before you ask, no, you are not taking me out and getting me shit-faced, okay?”

Merida sighed, slumping a little.

“Fine,” she said.  “This is shaping up to be the weirdest wedding ever.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” he said blandly.  “Play your cards right and you and Fa could end up snogging in a corner at Roni’s.”

“Shut up, you wanker,” she muttered, stomping off, and he snickered.

x

Roni had an apartment above the bar she owned, a pleasant two-bed with a spacious kitchen-diner and a large balcony, on which she grew potted herbs and chillies and a dwarf apple tree in a large terracotta urn.  Lacey had been there several times when she and Weaver had lived together as friends, drinking wine and whisky and listening to Roni’s extensive collection of music as they talked into the small hours.  Roni was making tea now, pouring hot water over bags of dried peppermint as Lacey sat at her kitchen table.  There were bags of baby supplies stacked in one corner: diapers and plastic-wrapped bibs and boxed toys, and Lacey eyed them curiously.

“I’m guessing the adoption you were talking about is going through, huh?” she asked, and Roni smiled, flicking wisps of dark hair off her face as she brought the cups to the table.

“A baby boy,” she said.  “Three months old. I pick him up next week.”

“Congratulations,” said Lacey, taking her tea.  “What are you calling him?”

“Henry.”  Roni sat down opposite, dark eyes soft and a smile still curving her lips.  “I hired someone to cover in the bar. Something tells me I’m gonna be pretty busy at home for awhile.”

“Yeah, well, if you have any tips, let me know,” said Lacey dryly, cupping her hands around her tea.  Roni eyed her.

“Maybe they can have playdates,” she suggested.  “You know what you’re having yet?”

Lacey shook her head.

“Got a preference?”

“Human, I guess.”  She pulled a face. “Honestly, at the moment I’m trying not to think about it too much.  Too scary.”

“Well, at least you have Rafe to support you,” said Roni.  “How come you didn’t come back earlier? He would have helped, you know.”

“I know,” sighed Lacey.  “I know, I just - I was kind of pretending it wasn’t happening.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m wondering if he’s doing the same.”

Roni snorted quietly, picking up her tea.

“Are you kidding?  Seems to me like he’s getting your entire future planned out.”

“I doubt it’s the future he wanted,” muttered Lacey, and Roni set down her cup, leaning on the table and fixing her with dark eyes.

“He could’ve just given you child support,” she said flatly.  “Instead he offers to marry you, give you a good home, a decent standard of living and everything that goes along with that.  Did he even ask you for a paternity test when the kid’s born?”

Lacey shook her head, and Roni sat back, folding her arms.

“So he’s done all that without you even proving the kid’s his?”

“I don’t sleep around!” snapped Lacey.  “It’s his baby. But we had a one-night-stand, that was it!  It’s not like we were ever together!”

“Didn’t you take off right after?” asked Roni.  “What do you think would have happened if you’d stuck around?”

“I dunno,” said Lacey.  “Awkwardness and - and strained conversations while he tries to work out why the hell he did it.”

Roni nodded slowly, and sat forward again.

“Sounds to me like you’d already made your mind up he didn’t want you,” she said, more gently.  “That he couldn’t want you.  Honey, I get it, I do.  Low self-esteem’s a fucking bitch, but you have more than yourself to think about right now.  You need to give things a chance, right?”

"I'm not - great - at letting people in," said Lacey uncomfortably.  "Or, you know, forming meaningful relationships or any of that shit.  How the hell can I be a - a wife?  I can barely say the word!  It sounds like something someone way older and more mature than me would be, you know?"

"And 'mother' doesn't?"

Lacey's mouth twisted.

"Like I said," she whispered.  "Trying not to think about it."

Roni sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling.

“Look, it took both of you to make this baby,” she said.  “Clearly you liked him enough to fuck him, so can you at least try to make an effort to be happy?”

“He’s only doing it because he feels sorry for me,” mumbled Lacey.

“So what?”

“So, I don’t want him to feel obligated, that’s what.”

Roni fixed her with a look.

“He got you pregnant,” she said.  “Of course he feels obligated. He’s a decent guy, whether he believes it or not.”

“I know that…”

“So it’s time to pull up your big girl pants and make a life with him,” said Roni. “For the sake of your child, if nothing else.”

Lacey shifted uncomfortably.

“What if I don’t know how?” she asked.  “What if I just end up hurting him? That’s the last thing I want.”

“Try having a little faith in yourself.”

Lacey snorted, and Roni sighed impatiently.

“Well, sitting here whining about it isn’t gonna solve anything,” she said.  “Just try. Take a honeymoon. Even if it’s just a couple of days out of town. Take those two days. A fresh start. A new life. It’s more than a lot of people get.”

Lacey shifted in her seat, her mouth twisting.

“I’m not used to staying in one place too long,” she said.  “I’m not sure I’d feel safe, you know?”

“There’s safety in being settled, too,” said Roni.  “There’s safety in family, and friends, and community.  Don’t let your past dictate your future, okay? People can change.  Life can be awesome.”

Lacey smiled slightly at that, and glanced down at her tea, watching the ripples on the surface, the liquid a pale olive green.

“Okay,” she said.  “I’ll try.”

“Good.”  Roni sat back, sipping her tea.  “So are you and I going shopping for honeymoon underwear, or what?”

x

Weaver walked along the hospital corridor, his footsteps seeming too loud on the tiles.  At that hour, the ward was relatively calm, the muted sounds of the intercom and the beeping of machines barely registering in his brain.  He reached the room he was seeking, opening up the door and halting in the doorway as he saw that he wasn’t the first visitor.

David Nolan lay motionless in the hospital bed, a blue cotton sheet pulled over him and tubes snaking away from his body to machines at the side of the bed.  He looked the same as when he had first been put in this bed, one terrible night four months earlier.  Weaver had cried that night for the first time in years, weeping from guilt and grief.  Until Lacey had sought to comfort him, of course.  Funny how things worked out.

Snow, David’s wife, looked up from her place at his side.  A stroller was parked beside her, their baby son, Neal, fast asleep with a knitted hat pulled down over his head.  Snow’s eyes narrowed beneath short, dark hair, her mouth pursing a little.

“I just came to see how he was,” said Weaver.

“Well, he’s pretty much the same as yesterday,” she said bluntly.  “Or every other day he’s been in here.  What exactly were you expecting?”

“A miracle, I guess,” he said simply, and Snow looked away.

Weaver stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“Look,” he said quietly.  “You were right.  What you said that night.  I was reckless.”

She turned her head back slowly, the artificial light gleaming on her hair.  There was anger and resentment in her eyes, and he couldn’t blame her.  But he had known Snow for several years, and he suspected she hated holding onto anger, however much he might deserve it.  He took a step forward.

“You were right when you said the job was everything to me,” he went on.  “You were right when you said I cared about nothing else, that getting the job done was all that mattered.  You were right when you said I had nothing to lose, that if I died no one would miss me.”

She lowered her eyes at that, her mouth flattening.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said quietly.  “I was angry and heartbroken, and I’m sorry.”

“No, it was the truth,” he insisted.  “If I’d gotten my brains blown out there would have been no one to mourn me but a bunch of cops and the local bartender.  Not like David, right?  He has a wife and a son and people that love him.  He has a family.  He’s the best person I’ve ever known, and if I could have traded places with him and let him go home with you that night, I would have.”

She looked up at him again, her eyes softening a little.

“I get it now,” he said gently.  “I just found out I’m gonna be a father, and I get it.  I have to change.  I will change.”

Her eyes had widened, her mouth opened in confusion.

“You’re - you’re having a baby?” she said, clearly puzzled.  “But—”

“Lacey’s pregnant,” he explained.  “She came back, and we’re getting married.”

“Oh.”  Snow blinked rapidly.  “I - I didn’t realise you two were an item.”

“We’re not,” he said dryly.  “Or at least, we weren’t.  Not really.  This is all new to both of us.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face as the enormity of his change in circumstances hit him like a punch to the gut.  Snow seemed unsure of what to say, but as always, slipped easily into making polite conversation.

“Then I guess congratulations are in order,” she said.  “When is she due?”

“August.”

“Well, Neal will have grown out of his newborn things by then,” she said.  “Tell her she’s welcome to them.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“And if she has any questions about pregnancy and birth, she can call me anytime,” she added, and Weaver smiled faintly.

“I’ll tell her,” he said.  “I think she could use your experience.  I’m reading a lot of baby websites, but I feel like I haven’t a bloody clue what I’m doing.”

She almost smiled at that.

“I’d also suggest taking some time for each other,” she said.  “David and I always tried to have some alone-time whenever we could.  You won’t have a minute to yourself when the baby comes, believe me.  So you have to remember you’re a couple as well as prospective parents.”

“A couple,” he said flatly.  “Yeah.  Kind of a work in progress.”

“You’re getting married,” she pointed out.

“Not sure an unplanned pregnancy and a hasty wedding to a workaholic arsehole twice her age was exactly what Lacey intended to do with her life.”

Snow gave him a look at that, but it was more sympathetic than judgemental.

“Sometimes these things are meant to be,” was all she said.  “Are you going on honeymoon?”

Weaver sighed.

“No,” he said tiredly.  “She didn’t seem keen, and we haven’t had time to arrange anything, anyway.”

Snow nodded, pursing her lips.

“Well, you could always borrow our cabin,” she suggested.  “We keep it stocked, and someone goes in once a week to clean the place.  I know it’s not much, but—”

“No, it’s - it’s perfect,” he said.  “I’ll see if I can convince her to go.”

“Come by tomorrow and you can pick up the key.”

“Thank you.”  He hesitated.  “Look, I meant what I said.  If I could have changed places with David and let him enjoy being a father, I would have.”

“Well, like I said, maybe things are meant to be,” she said, with a sigh, glancing across at the motionless body of her husband.  “We’ll get through this, and we’ll be stronger for it.”

“I admire your optimism,” he said.  I wished I shared it.

He didn’t voice his doubts, but Snow seemed to sense them anyway, and smiled slightly.

“Where there’s life, there’s hope,” she said.  “I’ve always thought that hope is the most powerful thing in the world.  I believe he’ll be okay.  I believe he’ll come back to us.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said.  “And when he does, tell him he’s welcome to punch me in the face.”

“Oh, I will.”

They shared the briefest of smiles at that, and Weaver nodded to her, casting a final glance at Nolan before stepping out of the room and leaving the little family in peace.

[tcstu]

September’s Honorable Mentions

I was so blown away by the incredible entries I received for this month’s contest that I decided I had to make an “Honorable Mentions” post to share some of the other pieces. The creativity in these entries is inspiring and it would be a shame if they were not read.

I’m posting these entries based on the order they were submitted, so this list does not reflect any system of ranking. I hope you will enjoy reading them as much as I did.

The artistic piece for this contest was an untitled digital art piece that was created by @palxeye. Please visit this page to see more incredible work by this artist!

Forest of the Disturbed

Written By: Buzzard (@buzzardboy)

The air is cold.

I am strictly aware of the frigid atmosphere, painfully alert as I feel the small teeth of the breeze bite into my frosty, goose-bumped skin. My black hair is disturbed slightly by the low wind, blowing into my eyes and shrouding my vision in shadows. I move my hand to my face to brush the sable strands away.

Though it is dark, the path before me is white, white enough that I can see it in the twilight of the forest. The trees around me appear purple under the blanket of night, and their muted leaves glow under the pale moonbeams which so curiously peak through the haze of clouds above.

The noise is small at first, so small I barely hear it. Like a nagging thought in the back of my mind, one I pay no mind to, yet I still know it is there. But as I walk further it gets louder, so loud that after a few minutes I have to cover my ears. It’s horrific. Atrocious. It scrapes against my ear drums, clawing at my hearing like a rabid beast.

The screams of the disturbed. They haunt me in the present, in my past, and surely in my future. But oh, for the present. How they rake their claws across the inner ear of my head, crawling through my ear canal and wrapping their hands around my brain like a fortune teller caressing inner crystal ball.

I feel their hands now, fingers like the legs of a spider crawling up my sides, my back, my chest. I feel their digits slowly wrapping themselves around my neck, throat bobbing as I swallow hard, take the last breath I am certain I will take. They trace my jaw, my eyelids, my lips which appear so thin as they begin to turn purple.

Their eyes are gaping voids, black holes straight from space that swirl and bore into my face. They are not black, no- they are far darker. A darkness that no human brain could understand, one that could drive you insane at just a glance. Their mouths, they gape like the entrance to a cave with stalagmites dripping down, teeth appearing as jagged daggers dull and unbrilliant.

I am suffocating. My lungs cannot fill with the air I so desperately need. My eyes bulge out of my skull quite literally, and I can feel the pressure throughout my whole body, gripping me like a fist around a throat, not unlike the fist which now constricts my airway. The sound and the lack of air and the gaping, terrible eyes, they all build up. And soon my vision is swimming, my eyes are painting themselves black, and then-

It is completely, utterly silent.

   Don't Look Back

Written By: Stressball (@unendingballofstress)

I walk the well-worn path and I don't look back

The trees whisper to me, call to me, but I don't look back

Their grasping branches caress my face, pull at me, but I don't look back

One foot in front of the other, right left right left

I'll make it if I don't look back

I know what happens to people who look back

 Untitled

Written by: Bree Johnson (@loafofbree)

 Your first thought when your eyes open is of the rock pressing painfully into your back and your second thought is of how you came to be laying on the ground. Of course, these thoughts lead to other, more important questions that you have about your current situation but they all melt away, replaced by calm acceptance. This is fine, you think, I’m alright. But, it was not fine and you were decidedly not alright. This did not stop you, however, from believing it anyway.

     It was not long before you noticed that you had been laying down in the middle of a neat pathway, leading to a forest that looked a bit blurry to you even after cleaning the glasses resting on your nose. It seemed to you that the best course of action would be to continue on down the neat little path to the blurry forest. This, of course, was not a good idea, but who am I to judge? This is your story after all.

    Down the path you walked, breath visible in the chilly air, and not one doubt in your mind that you were heading in the right direction and so on you marched, confidence oozing from you. I had doubts. Large and little doubts. But oh well. On you went and though you got closer to the forest, it was still not clear to your vision. This, still, did not deter your marching.

     Finally, after years of confident marching, you reached the edge of the forest. It was still quite muddled in your vision strangely enough. Personally, if I had not turned back by now, this would be where I’d do it. But not you. Oh no, not you brave little one.

     You step into the forest.    

     You are immediately accosted by something grabbing onto your arm, and though you jerk and shake, the grip will not loosen so you still your movements and look toward the one that holds you. Ah, now your confidence sinks away, down, down, down, replaced by an old and deep fear.

     The tree sprite, feeling mischievous as usual, drops your arm and waves, a bone-chilling smile crawling onto its face. You back away, right into the arms of another.  You jerk wildly in fear until the sprite lets go, making you fall from your seizure-like movements. You think you’re free, hope swells in your chest and you launch yourself up, right…

 Into…

 Me.

     “Hello,” I say quite pleasantly with a kind smile on my face.     

     You begin to scream.

 Untitled

Written By:  @brandenburgva

 “Just close your eyes,” Mariel Dunne muttered, glowering at the dim path ahead. “Yeah right, Briar, that shit doesn’t work.”

It could’ve been a trick of the light, her mind trying to impose patterns on chaos, the consequence of hours spent playing survival horror games. It wasn’t, but it could have been.

…but it wasn’t, and Mariel knew that very well. The price paid for being ‘in the know’ was losing all capability to simply dismiss weird shapes, swaying branches and dark, eager eyes as something her mind superimposed over a bland path through the National Forest’s western edge.

No, she knew now, and that meant sucking it up and facing facts. The trees had…some… things in them, reaching out eagerly, smiling with a hope so vivid it could only be malice.

And the only advice she had to go off of was 'close your eyes.’

“…big fucking help.” Mariel drew in a deep breath and wondered why in blue hell she had been the one to draw the shortest damn straw imaginable. Everyone else got areas in the city proper. She got the fucking forest and who would possibly mistake her for a damn Girl Scout?

One glance at her cell phone nearly flipped her legendary temper. “No bars? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

The forest bordered the city and yet she couldn’t get service in it. If the creaking wood on either side of the path hadn’t been enough to make her rethink this entire endeavor, that was the clincher. 

And yet, Mariel gritted her teeth, shoved her phone into her pocket and hastily wound her long hair up. A nearby bush–carefully checked for hands, eyes or grins–bent but didn’t break under the weight of her hoodie. “All outta breadcrumbs,” she huffed, cinching everything she could in as tightly as possible. 

Buckling down the pockets on her cargo pants, Mariel gave her belt another hard cinch and took a deep breath. “Every cigarette I’ve ever smoked is going to bite me in the ass right about now,” she quipped, the sound of her own acerbic voice to keep her courage up. 

It’d be a race, one she could probably win. And she would run it because she’d drawn the short damn straw. She’d run it because one of their freaks had gone missing, and damn if the freaks didn’t always look out for their own.

 Untitled

Written By:  @evanthenerd83

We’re always so focused on our maps and how to get to our destinations that we never notice them. We mistake their warnings for the lunacy of a shrieking wind. We brush off their guiding arms and branches. And we trudge into the dark innards of the woods with mortal obliviousness.

Don’t go exploring. You’re never the first.

  Untitled

Written By:  @littlewriterling

The trees have always whispered to her.

They’ve always seemed alive in a way the other humans aren’t.

The other humans. As if she’s one of them. As if she’d really belong.

She laughs a little, looks up at the moon. His light is brighter than yesterday, his form rounder. The craters seem deeper than they were the night before, darker. Like they’d swallow you up whole should you make the mistake to wander too closely.

Soon.

The grass tickles between her toes, a pale shadow of what it once was, moon-lightened and brittle.

The stones cut up her soles, cold as shards of ice, hot like the flames that have burned here.

The pain—

The pain is insignificant; hasn’t held any real significance in a long while now.

She’s used to it, after all. And, after everything, it’s nice to know she’s still alive. Still human enough to feel pain, to feel relieved at the fact that her blood’s still red.

The Northwind’s breath is harsh against her naked skin, it reeks of the coming winter. She can taste snow on her tongue, if she opens her mouth, can taste dark earth and death that was here all along.

She’s getting closer now, she knows. Can feel the beat of it in her heart, the thump thump thump of the dying.

The whispers are louder now, loud and chanting, but not oppressive.

The trees’ presence has never felt as demanding as that of the other humans, never felt as crushing.

Here, she’s free. Here, her feet leave bloody prints and no one yells at her to clean them up immediately.

Pain doesn’t equate pain in that cruel, only-sometimes human way.

The trees welcome her. Thump thump thump.

There’s a smile gracing her cracked lips now, ashes and rust on her tongue when she licks them, a drop of blood trickles into her mouth, two, three.

In the light of the stars, the dawning night, she drifts from the path worn into the underbrushes by her own two feet, every night.

The trees reach out to her with wooden fingers, knot-holed mouths gaping, eyes full of rotten worms and shadows. She lets them caress her hair, lets them taste her blood, see her soul.

They know her secrets.

She knows theirs.

The trees have always whispered to her.

She has always listened. Has always whispered right back.

They’re not alone out here.

Not tonight.

Not by the time the moon’s finally ready.

But afterwards?

Afterwards, humans will know not to stray from the path. Will know not to take the things that don’t belong to them.

They’ll have learned. They’ll never forget, not for a second in their lives.

(Because those lives aren’t going to last much longer.)

The trees whisper.

She listens and laughs.

The moon watches and waits, and the stars are ready for whatever might come.

They don’t judge.

But, oh, she does.

[the-novelwriter]

RED.

By: Sherrieff Farrakhan

“MEOW.”

I looked up from carving my pumpkin to see what Mr. Drogo wanted. He always wanted attention when my hands were messy.

“What do you want now Mr. Drogo?”

“MEOW.”

He jumped up on the kitchen counter sniffing the innards of the pumpkin that I had just disemboweled, and that’s when I realized I hadn’t fed him yet and it had been almost twelve hours since the last time he had eaten. I walked over to the cabinet and took out a can of wet cat food. I remember when I first got him. He was the cutest little tiger striped orange kitten with blue eyes that I had ever laid eyes on. The rest of his litter had been sold and for some reason no one wanted him. He was my perfect pet though.

“Here you go baby, mommy’s sorry she’s been neglecting you today.”

I put the food in his bowl, gave him a pat, and resumed my pumpkin carving extravaganza. Halloween was one of my favorite holidays, mostly because I loved the smell of the crisp air and the mirage of colors produced by the annual death of trees. It was like the unofficial official start of Autumn. I also liked that I could be anyone but myself one day out of the year with no questions asked. It made being a plain Jane so much more tolerable, and the look on people’s faces when they saw me dressed in my sexy, insert profession here, costume was to die for.

Once I finished with my third pumpkin, an angry faced one, I took them outside and lit them. I took a deep breath and looked down at my works of art. They looked like a depressed boy band on the verge of a split. I giggled to myself and walked back inside, feeling my phone vibrating in my pocket. I washed my hands and checked it, almost missing the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey girl, me and Mark will be there in an hour at about eight-ish, I got the liquor and the Maryjane!” Nicki laughed, putting emphasis on the last word like I was too anal to know what she meant.

“Okay cool, let me clean this place up, I got pumpkin guts everywhere.”

“Alright, see you in a few!”

I hung up the phone and immediately got to cleaning. I hated having people over when my apartment was dirty, it was just a bit too small for extra people and mess. Four hundred square feet of space is just enough to have about two guests and a cat. I looked around my small apartment, the used brown couch and chair that came with it looking like they belonged to a grandparent from two generations ago. The cheap coffee table and end table set a little shinier than it should have been. It was a bit run down but it was mine. I had lived in it for two years now and I loved it.

“MEOW.”

“I know boy, just have to make sure everything is clean,” I responded to him. I hated making him uncomfortable, but sometimes I had too. He hissed and ran into my bedroom when I turned the vacuum cleaner on.

***

“Girl I cannot believe you got another picture printed out of you and that cat, we are in college and you’re already an old cat lady,” Nicki said.

“Oh, girl leave her alone, he’s the only male affection she has,” Mark chimed in. They both erupted into laughter. I don’t know if it was actually funny or if it was the weed, but we laughed for a few good minutes before I finally had a comeback.

“This is coming from a guy who hasn’t had a date since freshman year,” I responded with a sarcastic smile. “Your love life is about as dry as mine.”

He rolled his eyes and took another hit from the bowl. Me, Nicki, and Mark had been friends since freshman year of college, and we were now seniors. We had had our fair share of ups and downs but at the end of the day it made our relationship stronger. People always wondered how a black inner-city Chicago girl, became friends with me, an uptight white girl from Ohio, and Mark a flamboyant gay Asian boy from California. Nicki would defend our friendship with a ferocity whenever people asked her why she was friends with us. which happened a bit more often than I’d like to admit.  

“Because they are genuinely amazing people! It’s extremely small minded of you to think that I can’t relate to people of different cultures!” She yelled at one of her other acquaintances one day while we were out at a bar. His eyes got big and he made his way to a different crowd, not ready to face her wrath.

Me and Mark were quiet with awkward grins frozen to our faces. She looked over at us.

“I absolutely hate when other black people act like I can’t be friends with you guys because of my background, yes I’m a little hood but I am smart as hell…” She said to us as her eyes drifted to the floor. “I really care about you guys.”

“Girl we love you, fuck what small minded people have to say. We are sugar, spice, and everything nice honeeey,” Mark said to her with a level of sass that could only be topped by hers. We both laughed and gave her hugs to reassure her of our friendship. I knew she loved us, but I sometimes felt bad because her own community was a bit ostracizing

“Girl those pumpkins look like us when we’re mad at each other,” Nicki said interrupting my daydream.

“Can I hit that one more time?” I asked, reaching for the weed. “I didn’t think about it but yes they do!” I laughed almost choking on the smoke.

“Oh, I see someone is trying to get turnt up in here tonight,” responded Nicki with a smile.

“Well since midterms are over, I thought why the hell not?” I laughed. “You want me to make us some drinks?”

“Yaaaas!” Mark responded with his famous spirit fingers, the glitter paint on his nails sparkling in the dim overhead light.

“Just for the dramatics you get water,” I teased as I got up from the table.

“I have something to show you guys,” Mark said when I came back from mixing our drinks.

He was sitting there, holding his book bag with a big mischievous smile on his face. I never knew what to expect from him. He was the most unpredictable friend in our group, but it made things more exciting for the most part. Planning random road trips, throwing surprise parties, showing up to his friends’ houses without fair warning. He was the full package.  

“So, I went to visit a psychic yesterday to get my readings, and well I saw this old spell book and asked her if I could buy it from her, you know? Something spontaneous and creepy,” He reached into his bag pulling the book out. “She was reluctant at first, but after about fifteen minutes of warning me of ‘dark powers’ she sold it to me for $100. Of course, I had to convince her that I wouldn’t utter a word from the book aloud before she let me leave.”

The book was leather bound but looked like it had been through some rough days in its lifetime. He shuffled through it revealing missing and stained pages.

“You think my black ass is about to play with a spellbook?” Nicki questioned, moving her chair away from the small round table. “Especially one that you were specifically warned not to read from, Oh hell no!”

I laughed, finding myself drawn to the book. The alcohol and weed were really starting to kick in now and I felt in the mood for something spooky. I didn’t really believe in magic and spirits, so I didn’t care about the psychic’s warning.

“Let me see,” I said taking the book from Mark.

I flipped through the pages, not recognizing the language at all. I found a short spell and thought I would give Nicki a scare, I did owe her for making fun of me and Mr. Drogo. I recited the words in my head once before trying them out loud.

“Zü-rad fres-ah dor-ium khalê—”

“Oh, hell no bitch, stop!” Nicki tried snatching the book, but I moved away and stood up. I began again.

“Zü-rad fres-ah dor-ium khalê morti-ūn sherán”

I repeated it three times while running from Nicki, who unsuccessfully attempted to take the book. I eventually came back to the table and sat, out of breath. Mark had been laughing the whole time watching the two-woman production we had just performed. Nicki, on the other hand, looked visibly bothered.

“I’m sorry, I had to get you back for making fun of me and Mr. Drogo,” I said.

“Girl whatever, you know I don’t like that spooky shit. I need a shot,” She got up from the table and went into the kitchen to get more vodka.

“I wonder what it means,” said Mark, while looking over the page. “I’m going to google it.”

I suddenly started to feel uneasy and light headed. It was like the weed and vodka had started to hit me full force.

“I feel kind of light heade—”

***

“Shannon, Shannon,” I heard their voices calling out to me.

I opened my eyes and for a few seconds I couldn’t see anything. Eventually my eyes adjusted, and I saw Mark and Nicki standing over me.

“Girl what the fuck!?” Nicki half asked half screamed. “What happened?”

“I feel okay I just think I over did it on the weed,” I tried to explain.

I was a lot more scared than I let on. I had never passed out before, it makes your body feel so weak when you come back to consciousness. I was also nervous because smoking and drinking had never made that happen before.

“That has never happened to me before, maybe I shouldn’t have mixed the two,” I muttered. “I need some water.”

“Hold up Shan, I’ll get it for you,” Mark said, stopping me from getting up from the couch. Shan was a nickname they used every now and again.

“Did you look up the spell?” I asked him when he came back.

“I didn’t have time, you scared the shit out of me. You were only out for like 45 seconds, but still,” He said as he took out his phone to search the spell.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can take you to the hospital, if you want?” Nicki asked.

“Thanks, Nic, but I think I’ll be fine just have to let myself come dow—”

“It says here that the spell is one that Satanists used back in the day to conjure parasitic demons,” Mark interrupted. “What the fuck is a parasitic demon?” He asked to no one in particular.

“Can you please stop talking about it?” Nicki asked him with the utmost sincerity. I don’t think I had ever seen her look so scared and worried. She was not lying when she said she hated spooky stuff.

“Okay after this last thing. It says that parasitic demons possess their host and make them kill other living beings and then themselves as an offering to Satan,” He Informed. “How could anybody believe this shit?” He rolled his eyes and put his phone in his pocket.

“I don’t believe it, but it is very creepy,” I responded.

Suddenly, I felt my right eye starting to twitch. I excused myself to go to the bathroom to look in the mirror feeling slightly dizzy when I stood up. The way my apartment was set up the bathroom was located in my bedroom. On my way in I looked around for Mr. Drogo who I had not seen since my friends had arrived, he was probably under my bed. I looked into the mirror and noticed that there was a black speck on my eyeball. I blinked several times trying to see if it would move but to my surprise it gradually got bigger. Fear seeped into my chest as I watched the speck grow from the size of a pen mark to the size of a dime.

“You guys!” I screamed out to them. “Somethings wrong with my eye!”

They appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. They both shared similar looks of concern that immediately turned to surprise and fear when I turned to show them my eye.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is that?” Nicki whispered as she got closer. “It looks like its spreading.”

“Maybe you burst a blood vessel?” Mark tried to console.

“Blood is red Mark! This is fucking black!” I responded feeling myself becoming livid. Not at him just in general more than likely from the panic I was experiencing. I looked back in the mirror and noticed that most of the white of my eye was now black. It was even starting to spread onto the blue of my iris.

“Woah Shan, calm down girl, he’s just trying to help. I think we should go to the hospital now,” Nicki Said, “This looks serious.”

I watched my eye turn completely black and couldn’t help but cry. I sat down on the toilet seat and sobbed for a few minutes. They stood there like two concerned parents waiting for their child to get out of surgery.

“MEOW.” Mr. Drogo walked into the bathroom and brushed against my leg purring, also trying his best to reassure me that things would be okay.

KILL HIM.

“Did you guys hear that?” I looked up at them, startled.

“I know, his little purring is so cute,” Nicki responded with a fake smile trying to suppress her fear.

KILL HIM!

I looked at them just as confused as they looked at me. There is no way they didn’t hear that deep voice. Then it occurred to me that I was probably possessed. I didn’t believe in demons until the moment I heard that voice. My fear took over.

“I need to go to a church guys,” I said, “I’m hearing voices, and I think I may be possessed. What if the spell was real? Oh my god!” I let out another sob my body shaking from nervousness. I stood up and looked in the mirror again. My right eye was completely black now, and I saw another speck forming in my left eye.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Said Nicki, looking extremely uneasy her hands starting to shake as well. “I’ll get your shoes.”

Mark hadn’t said a word since I snapped at him, but his eyes said everything. Expressing fear and concern. I was shaking now profusely now. My fear turning to horror. The splotch on my left eye was now dime sized.

KILL HIM!!!

I let out a cry of fear. Not knowing what the hell was going on, my hand clutching my chest.

“Can we hurry up please?” I asked. “The voice is getting louder!” 

I looked down at Mr. Drogo who was looking up at me with his little blue eyes. I felt my face curl into a smile.

“Shannon, you’re smiling pretty hard, are you okay?” Mark asked.

“I will be once I please him,” I responded, but these were not my words. They came from somewhere else. I suddenly felt my consciousness shift as I became a bystander to the thing that began controlling my body. “He will be so pleased with my sacrifice,” I could hear the words leave my mouth, but I could not stop them. Mark’s eyes grew wide. 

“I found a church in the area that’s open this late, let’s go,” Nicki said appearing in the doorway.

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” I felt the words come out. I tried with everything in me to fight this force, to get some of my own words out. I tried to move myself from my position in front of the mirror, but it was all in vain. It was very evident that I had no control. The most I could let out was a forced grunt.

“Girl fuck this, I’m calling the police!” Nicki Snapped out of fear.

Mark still stood silent, his face flushed and his eyes still wide. 

My body pushed past them and ran into the kitchen. I tried so hard to stop my it from moving. I could see, feel, and hear everything. I just had zero control. I fought so hard for control physically that it began to hurt all over. The pain was like fire, it felt like my blood was boiling, but I couldn’t even scream out in pain. In the kitchen I watched myself grab the largest knife from my drawer. I immediately knew where this was going, and used prayer as a last resort. I prayed hard in my head as my body walked back towards my bedroom where I heard Nicki talking to dispatch. As I prayed the physical pain intensified. 

GOD CAN’T SAVE YOU NOW!

“She’s got a knife!” Mark screamed.

They both cowered in the corner of my room. My body approached them slowly. I could still feel the grimace on my face, it stretched further making my face hurt. Nicki pulled out her key ring that had a bottle of mace on it.

“Shannon please, the police are on the way. I know you’re in there!” Nicki pleaded. I felt my eyes burn as tears ran down my face. I tried with all my might to get a word out. The burning inside me intensified but I still fought hard. It burned so bad that I finally was able to let out a scream. My tears intensified as I struggled to get the words out. My chest heaved as I stood there with my mouth open.

“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry,” I managed to get out before the pain forced me to give in and remain silent.

KILL THEM NOW!!

I approached them slowly. Nicki raised the mace and sprayed me, tears running down her face. I felt the burn of the mace, but it didn’t stop the demon controlling me. I lunged at her first wrapping my left hand around her throat. Mark grabbed my arm with the knife and tried to get it from my grip.

“Shannon please! You have to fight this!” Mark screamed after he failed to get the knife. Whatever was in control had inhuman strength so all of their efforts to fight back were futile. I felt my arm drive the knife into Nicki’s stomach, she didn’t make much noise because the hand around her throat was gripped tight. The most she managed was a few grunts, and then she began to gargle as blood spilled from her mouth.

“NOOOO!” Mark screamed, tears running down his face. He tried to make a run for it but before I knew it, I had him against a wall too, in the same way that I had Nicki.

“You think you can escape the wrath of my father?” I heard the question come from my lips, but this time it was the same voice I had heard in my head, powerful and deep. Mark whined as he tried to escape my grip. I heard Nicki gargle her last breath and momentarily forgot what was happening. I remembered all of the good times we shared. The love, the laughter, the tears, the secrets, Nicki. I felt my arm move and in an instant blood was flowing from his lips too. My grip on his neck released and he slid down the wall. He gurgled for about three minutes before he died, and the demon in control of my body made me stand right above him and watch until he took his last breath. I felt more tears coming from my eyes.

“MEOW.”

My head turned sharply, and my body ran full speed in his direction. He hissed and tried to run under the bed, but my hand gripped his tail before he could get away. I wanted so badly for him to get away, but in a matter of seconds I was holding him by the scruff of his neck. I really tried to close my eyes when the knife slit his throat, but all attempts were in vain. I felt his blood splatter on my face. My heart broke, it felt like it literally broke, and all I could do was silently cry. My chest began to heave. I was sobbing but I couldn’t Let it out. I watched as the demon used my body to lay my dead friends and dead cat on my bed.  I watched as it forced me to lie on the bed next to their cooling bodies.

“Father will be so proud,” The words left my mouth.

YOUR TURN NOW.

I watched myself pick up the knife and walk into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. I was covered in the red blood of my friends and cat. I then heard a knock on the door.

“This is the police. Please open the door!”

I saw my face clearly for the first time since my eyes had started to turn and I looked like a demon. My eyes, an abyss of darkness. My mouth, curled in a grimace that didn’t look humanly possible. I tried to pray in my head again, but nothing worked, this thing had me, and it wasn’t letting me go until it had what it wanted. I watched as the arm, my arm, that once seemed so familiar lifted the knife to my neck and slid the blade across my throat.

RED.

[dotshiiki]

the AU from left field wtf where did this come from.

I cannot believe I went and wrote this but it wouldn’t leave me alone and I had to get it out of my system so I could go back to writing, you know, stuff that I’m supposed to be writing, anyway Grey’s Anatomy!AU or for those of you who don’t know the show it’s basically surgical-intern!Annabeth and patient!Percy with a side of douchebag-attending!Luke in a completely messed up triangle (and Annabeth thinks she’s so going to hell for all of it). Just your average rip-off of the GA pilot (I can’t believe that show is still going). 

(Rated T for swearing and non-explicit sex. It wouldn’t be Grey’s without the swearing and sex. Read at your own risk. :P)

The first time she meets Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase gets groped.

To be fair, he has no clue what he did. She can't very well fault a patient when his flailing limbs land in an unfortunate spot when he's in the middle of a grand mal seizure. She just happens to be the poor intern leaning over him, trying to hold him steady.

Anyway, it's just one more annoying thing in what has already been an exhausting day. She's into hour twenty-five of her first-ever shift at Olympus General, and she's already dealt with explosive diarhhea, uncontrolled vomitting, and seventeen rectal exams. (She swears Dr Ramírez-Arellano must hate her guts.) Getting groped by an unconscious patient should be routine by now, right?

Besides, it could be worse--he could be some smelly old man rather than the fit twenty-six-year-old car crash victim with a ripped body (hey, she's the one hanging on to it for dear life while Dr Ramírez-Arellano yells for two milligrams of chlorazepam and a wide bore IV, after all). And he is kinda cute, if you ignore the matted blood on his forehead and the fact that his eyes are rolling back in his head.

Great. Now she knows she's really tired, if she's actually checking out bloodied car crash victims.

They finally get him stabilised and up to CT, and Annabeth rests her eyes briefly as she leans against the wall outside the room, wondering for the tenth time since her shift began why it was so important for her to join the game anyway.

The speech the Chief of Surgery gave this morning (yesterday morning? Time doesn't really have much meaning after twenty-five hours on your feet) comes back to her: The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You'll be pushed to the breaking point.

Right now, Annabeth thinks she may be at one of those breaking points Dr Brunner was talking about. She can't think of a single reason she should be a surgeon, but she can think of a thousand reasons why she should quit.

'Hey. Hey!'

She blinks at the lab tech who's waving the scans in front of her to get her attention.

'These yours, right?'

'Uh--right.' Annabeth stifles a yawn, grabs her scans, and heads off to find her resident.

Twenty-three more hours to go.

OoOoO

The next time Percy Jackson gropes her, it's another accident. She's adjusting his IV drip in the ICU when he wakes up, reaching out blindly. His fingers brush her breast and pause in confusion. Annabeth freezes as well--is this guy serious?--and then she realises that although Jackson's eyes are open and staring at her, they also have the blank look of someone who can't see.

'What--' Jackson croaks. His fingers move hesitantly against her chest--and she regains enough presence of mind to move quickly back, out of their way. 'Oh my god, did I just--what's going on?'

'It's okay,' she says soothingly. 'You're in the ICU. You were in a car accident. You're gonna be fine.'

'I was--oh gods, Mom! My mom--is she okay?'

Annabeth vaguely remembers two passengers who came in at the same time. She thinks Will Solace took care of the older woman in the pit ... ah, yes. Minor injury. 'She's fine,' Annabeth reassures him. 'Got away with nothing but a sprained shoulder. Didn't even have to stay the night.'

'And Callie? Where's Callie? Is she okay?'

'Is that your girlfriend?'

There's no reason her heart should rise a little when he shakes his head. It's of utterly no concern to her whether her patient is attached or single, even if those glassy unseeing eyes are melting her heart (it's sympathy, pure sympathy). The irises a striking shade of green, and she can only imagine what they'd do to her if they were clear and lucid.

'My friend Leo's. Poseidon, Neptune, and Porcys, he's gonna kill me.'

Annabeth bites back a smile at the funny cursing. She's never heard anyone swear on the names of ocean deities of an ancient polytheistic culture. At least she thinks they're ancient water gods? It's been decades since Middle School history or Latin or whatever that class was that they learned about them. And she wonders what on earth Percy Jackson does that he'd be up to speed on ancient Greek culture. Maybe he is Greek. He has the looks or it, mmm, Mediterranean skin and thick lashes--okay enough, Chase.

'I'm pretty sure she's fine, too.' She closes her eyes and tries to recall the other woman in the ER. Short, long-haired? Did anyone take her case? No, because she--'Got away without a scratch. She was one lucky girl.'

Jackson relaxes visibly. Annabeth frowns a little. This 'Callie' might be his friend's girlfriend, but he does seem awfully concerned. Maybe he has a thing for her, too.

And no, she doesn't care if a guy she doesn't even know is crushing on his friend's girl. He can like whoever he wants. He's just her patient.

'Can I see them?'

'After your surgery,' she says. 'I just need to check you over now. Can you follow the light, Mr Jackson?' She already knows before she does the pupillary response test that he won't be able to, but it's all procedure and she has to go through it.

'Percy,' he says.

'Sorry?'

'My name's Percy.'

'Percy, then.' She shines the pen-light in his eyes. No response. Hopefully it's only temporary--a pinched optic nerve, maybe, something that can be fixed in surgery.

'And I don't see anything.' He swallows hard. 'Am I--' The way his Adam's apple bobs tremulously, like he's already trying to come to terms with the bad news she hasn't yet delivered tugs at her heart.

Damn it.

She can just hear her mother's voice in her head--'Personal feelings get in the way. You have to be able to detach yourself if you're going to be a good surgeon.' Yeah, her mom's a pro at the art of detaching herself. She's done it for years and years, and not just with patients.

'We may be able to fix it in surgery,' Annabeth tells him. 'It should happen tomorrow. We needed to  make sure you're stable before we get you in the OR.'

'Right,' he says. 'Are you my surgeon?'

'I--uh, no, I'm just an intern.'

'Oh.' Percy laughs nervously. 'You know, the last time I ended up in hospital--'

'A regular, are you?'

His grin is sheepish. 'Not really. It's just that I sprained my ankle a couple of weeks back and the doctor said it was fine and I wouldn't need to come back. I don't think he bargained for car accidents.' Percy frowns. 'I can't remember how that happened.'

'Don't worry about it. Short-term memory loss isn't uncommon with head traumas.'

She finishes her examination--other than his eyes, Percy seems well enough for a guy recovering from a grand mal. It's funny--that shouldn't really affect his sight, but there's clearly something more going on in his brain that the neuro attending will definitely need a closer look at. She could've sworn his scans were clean, though.

'I'll let you get some rest.' She rolls up her stethoscope and hangs in around her neck.

'No, wait--don't go.' His hand reaches out feebly, thankfully nowhere near her chest this time. 'I--sorry, you must have stuff to do.'

She does--there's labs to deliver and other patients to check on, and her shift is just about up, at long last--but Percy Jackson is the main case she's been assigned. Her responsibility.

She takes his hand. His fear is palpable; she can feel it in the cling of his trembling fingers.

'It's okay,' she murmurs. 'You're gonna be fine.'

'Thanks, Dr, er--'

'Chase. Annabeth.'

'Annabeth,' he repeats. 'That's a pretty name. It suits you.'

'You can't even see me.'

'I can tell from your voice.'

Although she knows it's probably the pain meds talking, and he probably won't remember a word of this conversation the next morning, Annabeth gets a little flutter in the pit of her stomach anyway. Percy's unseeing eyes blink at her. They are nice eyes, almond-shaped and slightly slanted, like they're sending her a personal wink. And god, how unfair are those thick lashes on a guy?

'I bet you say that to all the girls.'

'Only the cute ones.'

'Again, you can't see me.'

'Then you'd better fix my eyes because I'd like to.'

Her heart does a little tap dance. 'You're--you're flirting with me. You can't flirt with me.'

His lips quirk. 'Why not?'

It's the pain meds, and the fear of surgery, she tells herself. He's probably one of those guys who flirts when he's terrified. (She can totally understand that.)

'I'm your doctor, for one.' She should probably let go of his hand if she's going to seriously rebuff him.

But if this is helping him stay calm, that's not a bad thing, right?

'Well, that's good. I thought you were gonna say you're already taken.'

She freezes, thinking guiltily of the messy friends-with-benefits situation she's got going on with her not-boyfriend at the moment (she never knows what to call Luke) that just got more complicated this very afternoon.

Percy must feel the ice that's running through her hands then. 'Oh,' he says, and starts to let go. 'Sorry, I didn't mean--'

She should let this go. Let him go. But her fingers hold on to his of their own accord. 'No, it's not--I mean, it's complicated. I'm not--argh, I'm single, is what I mean.'

'Huh. So flirting's a go?'

'Yes--no! I'm still your doctor!'

He laughs. 'Damn, you're a lot smarter than the tour groupies.'

Tour groupies? Oh god, he's probably a rock star or something. She's flirting with a rock star--no, he's flirting with her, and when was the last time someone like him flirted with someone like her? She wonders what it'd be like to date a cute guy who isn't all tied up with her career and her mom and the train wreck of her romantic history.

Good gods, what is she thinking? She can't date a patient.

Percy mistakes her silence for confusion and clarifies, 'I'm a surfer. You know, surfing champs and all that?'

Oh. Well, she got that one wrong. 'Like Kelly Slater?'

'Funny how that's the only surfer anyone ever knows.'

'I know other surfers,' she replies automatically, although she doesn't really. She's barely even been to the beach all her life. It's not like they're far from the water, but when has her mom ever had the time to take her? And once you enter med school--well, that's kind of like kissing your social life goodbye.

'Oh? Name one.'

'Percy Jackson.'

He laughs so hard, she's afraid he might burst an aneurysm in his brain. He has a great laugh--it bubbles up from deep inside him and fills the whole room--and it's so infectious, she can't help but join in.

She really has other stuff to do, but she ends up sitting there with him, holding his hand and bantering about stuff she doesn't even remember later (but still feels like the silver lining in her crappy first day of work) until he falls asleep again.

She tells herself it's just patient care.

It's what any good doctor would do, right?

OoOoO

It's at least five hours after her shift officially ends when she stumbles into an empty on-call room. She's supposed to be going home, and she knows that putting off the moment will only make it worse when she finally faces her mother's interrogation of her first day as an intern, but she's going to avoid it anyway. And if there's one excuse Dr Athena Chase can't argue with, it's being tied up at the hospital.

God knows she's used it enough times herself.

Luke finds her, of course, right when she's ready to crawl under the thin hospital-issue sheets (would it really kill them to spring for something a little more comfortable for weary doctors? She's not asking for much, maybe just something soft instead of crisp and sterile) and lose herself to the world.

'Annabeth,' he says, with that smug arrogance that he carries everywhere with him. Once upon a time she thought it the sexiest thing ever, was incredibly flattered that her mom's up-and-coming young resident took an interest in her.

Right now their relationship--if you can even call it that--is a time bomb that might explode in her face any moment.

'Dr Castellan,' she says stiffly.  

'Dr Chase,' he mimics. 'What happened to Luke?'

'Did you even think to tell me you were coming to work here?'

He chuckles and turns the lock in the door. 'I thought it'd make a nice surprise.'

'A nice surprise?' she hisses. 'I had to find out that my--my--whatever this was--is my attending from my resident!' She can't forget the humiliating moment when she brought Percy Jackson's scans to Dr Ramírez-Arellano, only to be told to deliver them to the new attending--Dr Castellan. She'd frozen completely at the sound of his name, until Piper McLean, her fellow intern, had elbowed her sharply in the ribs.

'Thought you'd be happy to have one attending who won't be riding you. Well, maybe in a different way.' He leers at her suggestively, leaving no question about why he's come looking for her.

'We can't.'

'I don't recall any objections last night.'

'First of all, that was two nights ago, and B, that was before you became my boss.'

He steps into her space and places a hand on the back of her neck to draw her face towards his. 'Lighten up. You're off duty now, aren't you?'

'We really shouldn't.'

'Nobody needs to know.' His hand is hot and heavy on her stomach, finding its way to the waistband of her scrubs and tugging them down.

They really shouldn't--this could blow up in so many ways--but she lets him, because it's Luke, and this is a dance they've been doing for years.

And okay, she needs something to get her mind off Percy Jackson, whose smile and voice and touch is lingering in her brain more than she cares to admit. Sleeping with Luke may be flirting with disaster, but fantasising about a patient--a patient, for Christ's sake, talk about breaches of ethics--is so much worse.

(Except that when Luke touches her, it's the accidental brush of Percy's fingers against her chest that she thinks of, and the echo of his laughter that rings through her head in place of Luke's moans, and how much more fucked up could this get?)

When it's over and Luke is snoring next to her, Annabeth gets up quietly and drags herself into the shower. She turns up the heat and lets the near-scalding spray scrub her raw, but the ghost of Luke clings to her like a second skin.

(Yeah, you can all send me to Tartarus now.)