#i wish we had the option of a check out counter for our brains for the months that too much content drops

[liliesandparchment]

hiiiiiii sooooo ik theres been a lot of bridgerton panic on this blog buttttttt its the 14th and hotd s2 drops soon for me like less than 72 hrs likeeee y’all know where im going w this 👉👈 you’ve seen me unhinged for kanthony and feral for polin its time to see me get horny for dragons and politics and even more morally gray characters amen buddies

[scarabsinthestardust]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 10

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Language (honestly, at this point we should just assume I can't form a sentence without using the word 'fuck' 😅), alcohol, anxiety, mentions of depression, injury/blood/stitches, hospitals (probably the most unrealistic part of this very fictional fanfic is how quick we see a doctor at the hospital), and some vague talk of organized crime, drugs, and a strained parental relationship

I’m not sure what woke me up. The room was still dark, indicating the sun hadn’t risen yet. I checked my phone, squinting at the too-bright light. 2:04 AM. I groaned and rolled over, fully intending on going back to sleep, when I realized it was unusually quiet. I didn’t hear Jake’s steady, sleeping breaths. I reached over to find he wasn’t there, but the sheets were still warm. I sat up and looked around, rubbing my eyes. The bathroom door was open, the lights off and empty.

I hated jumping to the conclusion that something was wrong, but it was a habit that had been so ingrained in me that it was difficult to break. Maybe he just couldn’t sleep or needed some water, or maybe he thought of a riff or lyric he needed to get out. But once my mind started wandering down that path, it was impossible to pull it back. I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll just go check on him, then I’ll go back to bed. I tried to reassure myself as I padded down the stairs.

I heard the tap running in the kitchen and quietly peeked my head around the corner. Jake stood at the kitchen sink, one hand gripped on the edge of the counter, the other holding a bottle of liquor he was pouring down the drain. If he was having an episode, this was new. I waited silently in the dark, just observing as he put the empty bottle on the counter and grabbed another. He still hadn’t noticed me. The sound of the faucet drowned out any small noise he made, but he looked tense in the way he held himself, jaw clenched and white knuckling the edge of the counter. I think it was safe to assume he was, at the very least, starting to spiral.

I didn’t want to scare him, and I was curious to see how far he would take this, if he would get rid of it all. I wished I could hear what was going on in his head and understand the thought process behind this. Regardless of what he was thinking, whatever reasoning he had in his clouded brain, I was proud of him. It must have taken a lot of strength to dump it instead of drink it.

At some point, maybe his hand got wet, and maybe his mental state affected his motor skills to some extent. I jumped at the sound of one of the glass bottles slipping out of his grip and breaking as it hit the ceramic sink. He made a move to catch it, probably hoping to avoid any excessive noise. He’d always been so cautious about not waking me up. When he cursed and hissed in pain, almost doubling over the counter, I gasped and started toward him, alerting him to my presence. He looked at me with wide eyes then back to his hand, holding it over the sink. Blood was freely pouring from a deep wound on his right palm.

I flipped the light on so I could better assess the damage and grabbed a dish towel. “Jake, let me see.”

He reminded me of a cornered, injured animal in that moment. “Kya, I didn’t… I didn’t do it on purpose. I-“

“I know, baby. It was an accident. Please, just let me look at it.” I can’t say for sure if I would have known that if I hadn’t witnessed it. It pained me to think I might not have believed him otherwise.

As soon as he let me, I pushed the dish towel onto it in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, causing him to wince. The cut was deep, and bleeding way more than I was comfortable with. “I think we need to go to the hospital.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just wrap it up and-“

“Babe, listen. You need stitches. Now, unless you have a sewing kit lying around somewhere, the hospital is our only option and probably the only guarantee your hand won’t be permanently fucked up.”

This made him stop and think for a moment, before letting out a sigh and reluctantly agreeing with me.

By the time we got dressed and made it to the hospital (a couple of bloodied wash rags later), the bleeding had slowed significantly. Jake was tired, and I thought he looked a little pale, but he stayed conscious and alert, letting me constantly check on him without getting annoyed at my persistence.

Once we were put back into a room to wait for the doctor, Jake perched on the edge of the exam table, he let out a deep sigh. “Thank you for coming with me. I’m sorry this is such a mess.”

My hands on his cheeks, I planted a kiss on his forehead and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m really proud of you, ya know.”

He shot me a confused look.

“I know what you were doing. Can I ask you why, though?”

His eyes averted to the ground. “I’m trying to be better for you. For our future.”

I just hugged him then, not really knowing the words to say to encompass how much I loved him.

I didn’t have much of a chance to figure it out before the doctor came in with a nurse. They worked quickly, and once Jake was all stitched up, they sent us on our way with prescriptions for antibiotics and painkillers. I knew he would have to postpone any serious guitar playing for a bit, but his prognosis was good, so we weren’t too terribly worried.

Back home and settled into bed, Jake suddenly looked at me quizzically. “Would you really have been able to stitch me up with a sewing kit?”

I snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I could have.”

“Why do you know how to do that?”

“Uh, my dad taught us.”

Jake looked like he was deep in thought for a moment. “We’ve been together for two years and I don’t know anything about him.”

There it was. There was the moment I dreaded for the entirety of our relationship, the one I knew would come someday, when Jake started asking questions that would have been better left unanswered. I sighed and sat up, turning to face him. “If I tell you, it’s because I trust you, so please don’t make me regret it. Anything I tell you stays in this room. Can you promise me that?”

He gently rubbed my arm. “You know you can trust me.”

I carefully decided exactly how much I was going to tell him, and where I wanted to start. It would be better to leave out certain details, safer. Jake didn’t need to know everything, anyways. “There’s a reason why my dad wasn’t always around when we were kids, and why we got dumped with all these different people. What he does for a living, it’s… less than legal. And dangerous.” Jake was listening intently, waiting for me to finish. “He was always getting hurt, so Luca and I had to learn how to take care of stuff like that. Hospitals aren’t really an option when you’ve got federal warrants.” I let out a nervous laugh.

If he was bothered by the information he didn’t show it, but he was curious. “Is it like, drugs or something?”

“Yeah, I think so. He always tried to keep us away from it all, so I don’t know much of the details.” That was a lie. I knew plenty, all the dirty details, all the things that would make most people squirm, the things that most people are afraid of. There was a part of me that hated lying to Jake, but the need to keep secrets that were so ingrained into my bones, and the need to keep him safe, outweighed the desire to tell him the truth. The less he knew, the farther I could keep him from it all, and the safer he would be.

My dad and I have always butted heads, even on good days. We weren’t close and there was hardly ever any kind of an open line of communication. He has always been the biggest pain in my ass, but I never doubted that he loved me, in his own way, even if he had a funny way of showing it. I would never do anything to intentionally risk his life or his freedom, and I certainly wasn’t raised to be a snitch. Maybe some part of me felt obligated to protect him where I could, in some unhealthy, almost codependent way, but that was a problem reserved for the therapist I didn’t have.

When Jake didn’t say anything, I silently pleaded that I hadn’t made a huge mistake in telling him. But ever my constant, the one thing I could fully rely on, he shared a comforting smile and nudged me to lie back down. “Your secret’s safe. I promise.”

TAGLIST

If you want to be added, let me know!

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389

[imekitty]

Each and every hair that Danny sheds, turns white.

Maddie pulled the lint trap out of the dryer to empty it but paused when she noticed bits and specks of it glowing.

She pinched at one of the glowing parts and rubbed it between her fingers.

A hair. A single white hair just a few inches long.

Maddie combed through the rest of the lint and picked out a couple more strands of glowing white hair. She sealed them in a zippered storage bag and brought it into the kitchen.

“Jack? Have you seen strands of white hair around the house?”

Jack held the fridge door open and stared intently at the options on the shelves. “White? You mean grey? I’ve been losing a little more hair than usual lately, I guess.”

“No, it’s not yours.”

“Oh, babe.” Jack turned back to her with a frown. “They’re not yours, are they? Hey, middle age, you know I’m there with you—”

Maddie scowled, her cheeks flushing. “No, Jack. They’re not mine either.”

“Oh.” Jack blinked. “Uh, sorry. What are we talking about?”

“This.” Maddie held up the bag of white hair. “I found them when I was doing laundry.”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “They’re glowing. White ghost fur?”

“No, it’s not fur. It’s definitely hair.”

“Really?” Jack took the bag from her and held it close to his face. He reached inside and pulled out a single strand, squinting in inspection. “You’re right. But I’m not seeing a follicle. Might’ve been destroyed in the wash if it was ever there at all.” He placed the hair back in the bag. “Might be tough to get a good DNA sample.”

“Maybe there’s more around the house.” Maddie held a fist to her chin and looked out at the living room. “On clothes or blankets or even just in the carpet.”

“Let’s be on the lookout for more. If there’s a ghost hanging out in our house, we’ll find it.” Jack bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m just surprised our ghost sensors haven’t detected anything.”

Maddie crossed her arms and tapped her boot against the floor. She raised her eyes as a thought struck her. “Phantom.”

“What about him?” asked Jack.

“Phantom never triggers our ghost sensors for some reason,” said Maddie, her tone rising, pace quickening. “And he knows where we live. And we’ve seen him holding one of our Thermoses or other inventions multiple times. Obviously he’s been sneaking into our house and stealing things.” She held up the bag. “And he has white hair about this length! It’s got to be his.”

Jack smirked. “You’ve got Phantom on the brain again, don’t you?”

“But doesn’t it make sense?” asked Maddie.

“We’ll need to find a strand of hair with a follicle on it to find out for sure.” Jack clenched a fist. “But if it is him, that punk ghost can’t outrun us forever.”

Later that evening, after a healthy meal Maddie made sure was not contaminated with any ectoplasm this time, the whole family watched a movie together in the living room.

“I knew that was going to happen,” said Jack. “I told you, remember?”

“But it doesn’t even make sense,” said Jazz. “That could never happen in real life.”

Jack and Jazz proceeded to debate and criticize the movie as they so often did. Maddie smiled at Danny, who was sitting next to her but had fallen asleep some time ago. His head lay back against the sofa, his mouth open slightly.

She brushed a few unruly bangs off his forehead, bangs that really needed a trim. He sucked in a breath and opened his eyes, groaning slightly when he caught her looking at him.

“You’re such a light sleeper,” teased Maddie. “Are you tired?”

Danny mumbled a reply and groggily blinked.

“If you did your homework earlier, you wouldn’t need to stay up so late finishing it,” said Maddie.

Danny leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “I did some of it during lunch today.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Maddie.

Jack and Jazz were still picking apart some trivial detail from the movie. Maddie started rubbing and scratching Danny’s back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tiny light.

Maddie turned to inspect. She plucked a strand of glowing white hair from off the couch behind Danny and held it close to her face.

How long had it been here?

Didn’t matter. The important thing was this one had a follicle.

Maddie closed her fingers over the hair and stood. All heads turned to her.

“I’ll be back.” Maddie walked to the door leading down to the lab. “You don’t need to pause it for me.”

At her work station, Maddie cleaned the hair, cut off the fragment she needed, and placed it in an extraction reagent to be digested. She had done this so many times before but this time seemed to be taking forever.

Heavy footsteps fell on the basement lab stairs. Maddie did not need to turn to know who it was.

“What’s going on, Mads?” asked Jack, coming up behind her.

“I found a white ghost hair with a root on the couch.” Maddie gestured to the equipment at her station. “It’s incubating right now.”

Jack grinned. “Really? Talk about luck!”

Maddie groaned and leaned over the counter. “I just wish the extraction process didn’t take so long.”

Jack tugged on her arm. “We’ll come back later when the kids are in bed. We’re gonna analyze that sucker tonight and figure out which ghost it belongs to!”

“It has to be Phantom,” said Maddie, allowing Jack to drag her out of the lab. “Who else could it be?”

Late that night, long after they made sure their kids were in bed, Maddie and Jack determined the final sequencing results from their DNA extraction and analysis.

Jack yawned and checked the clock in the lab. “I can’t believe it’s three already. I’m beat.”

Maddie bounced lightly on her toes. “Oh, I’m not. I am ready.”

They compared the DNA sequencing from the hair sample to a sequencing they had already obtained from Phantom several months prior.

“It’s a match,” said Jack. “You were right. It’s Phantom’s hair.”

Maddie clutched the printed results in her hands, crumpling the sheet slightly. “I knew it! He’s been coming into our house to steal our inventions!”

“And sit on our couch apparently,” said Jack. “Maybe he likes our Netflix subscription.”

“We’ll need to set up cameras.” Maddie began pacing the lab. “We’ll just tell the kids it’s only for a little while. Or we don’t have to tell them; they’d never know.”

“And maybe some laser sensors that only ghosts can trip,” suggested Jack. “Worth a try even if our other sensors never pick him up.”

Maddie grinned at him. “If Phantom wants to be in our house so bad, we might as well make our lab his permanent residence.”

Over the next couple weeks, Maddie studied footage from the interior cameras installed in the house and checked the logs for the laser sensors. But there were no hits, no glimpses, no Phantom.

Saturday afternoon, Maddie drove toward her favorite hair salon with Danny in the passenger seat. She had found several more strands of Phantom’s hair around the house just that morning, but still no sign of Phantom when she checked the camera recordings.

She stared out at the traffic, her head feeling heavy and dull.

“What’s wrong?” asked Danny.

Maddie pulled up to a red light and turned to look at him. The tips of his bangs collided with his eyelashes.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just waited way too long to schedule your haircut.”

She brushed his hair out of his eyes. Danny looked annoyed but smiled anyway.

Inside the salon, the stylist gushed over how thick Danny’s hair was before taking him to the shampoo bowls in the back. Maddie sat in the waiting area nearby and checked the camera feeds and sensor logs on her phone. Jazz was doing yoga stretches in the living room. Jack was rummaging through the pantry, probably looking for the last ounce of fudge he had forgotten he already ate.

The stylist returned with Danny and guided him into a chair, wrapping a cape around his shoulders. Maddie watched from a distance for a moment before returning to the camera feeds.

Phantom had to be somewhere in the house. He just had to be. Why else would his hair keep showing up?

“What is this?” asked the stylist, holding up a pair of scissors. “Is this glitter on your shoulders?”

Maddie looked over at Danny and the stylist. Something was indeed shimmering on his cape, small specks of light.

“It’s on the floor too.” The stylist picked up a shining piece. “No, wait, I just cut this off. This is your hair—”

Maddie marched over, her eyes darting from Danny’s shoulders to the floor. Small pieces of the same white hair she had been seeing for weeks were flecked all over his cape.

Danny caught her eye and grimaced. “Mom, it’s not what you—”

She tore the cape off him and dragged him out of the salon by the wrist. Danny pleaded and whined and begged her to listen but Maddie did not relent.

Out in the parking lot, she turned around to face him, still holding his wrist. The muscles in Danny’s jaw looked tight as his lips twitched.

“Mom.” He held up a palm. “Please listen to me.”

Maddie reached forward and plucked a hair from his head. Danny yelped and rubbed the area with his free hand.

Maddie watched as the dark strand turned white in her fingers, lighting up with a ghostly aura.

She stared at the hair for some time, then stared at Danny. His face was pale.

She held the spectral hair up between them. Her hand shook, her whole body shivered.

“I’m listening.”

Follow-up

[peralta-guaranteed]

Wishing I could read something about Peraltiago talking about how they feel on all Teddy's proposals to Amy. They are really akward, uncomfortable moments and Teddy really crosses the limits every single time, and wish we knew more on their takes about it. Once I read a fic about Jake sending Rosa to stop Teddy and take care of Amy but it just not the same.

lol I have a fic on that topic exactly - I have a proposal for you - where I had the cathartic experience of writing about Rosa breaking Teddy’s hand for being so awful, but I agree with you, Teddy reappearing in the show is so uncomfortable each time ugggh. I thought the wedding one was the worst but then he shows up literally fathering a child with someone else and still does it, disgusting.

So maybe take this as taking place before that fic of mine, where Jake does mention how bad Teddy's proposals make them feel!

Jake can tell, just from the simple drop of her purse in the hallway, that it wasn't a good day.

Weird, how it's these tiny things that he's learned to read instantly - or maybe not, given that he's a detective trained to focus on details others would overlook, and being unable to stop the habit when it comes to the most important people in his life.

She tries to be all smiles when she comes into the living room, though, where Mac is happily rolling around in his playpen while Jake is folding laundry on the couch, the very picture of domesticity as she leans over the pen to kiss their squealing, giggling little baby. The view of her in one of her old pantsuits instead of her Sergeant's uniform is already making his hearts do little leaps even before she makes her way over to Jake for their customary Welcome Home kiss.

"How was that inter-department meeting today?" He asks as she shrugs off the suit jacket and continues her pace into the kitchen, setting aside a set of Mac's bibs that can't be folded anyway.

"Okay." She replies, and that's enough to make him abandon the laundry alltogether and follow her (one eye on Mac, of course, but he's not even crawling yet, and couldn't roll himself into any danger on his foam-based playmat - probably). It's rare that she doesn't have at least one inspiring, 'interesting' or just generally informative story to share from her meetings, the only person in probably all departments looking forward to them.

She's staring into the fridge when he reaches the room and leans against the counter, trying to gauge her level of upset. From the raised shoulders and the fact that she doesn't need to check the fridge to know they were going to order Chinese tonight, he guesses it's at a solid 8, at least.

"Teddy was there." She mumbles into the cold, bright space in front of her, and Jake's shoulders tense up just as much as hers even as he tries to sound as chill as possible.

"How is he?"

"Still extremely boring." Then, after a pause. "Still hung up on me."

So much for chill.

"Did he propose again?"

She nods and sighs, her shoulders dropping as she closes the fridge, but doesn't turn toward him.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." She says through gritted teeth, suddenly. "He has a child with someone. He has a wife. How can he look at them and turn around and-"

Mac's little happy cooing from the living room interrupts her, as do Jake's arms as they wind around her middle, his chin dipping into the space between her shoulder and her neck.

"That's probably a question only a therapist could answer, babe."

Amy sighs as she leans back, falls into the warmth and support of her own husband, the father of her child that she can hear happily babbling to himself from a room over, and wonders some more how Teddy could ever think he would be a better option for her.

"He wasn't like this when we were dating." She muses, and feels Jake's kiss against her jaw - a reflex action she's noticed whenever she mentions a past partner or anything, frankly, that reminds him that there was a point where he wasn't Jake Peralta-Santiago yet. But she kind of needs to finish this thought, and she knows he can handle it. "He was nice and kind and he wouldn't- he wasn't manipulative, pulling something like that in public, or deluded enough to think he was in the right for it. I mean, he thought he was pretty great, but he wouldn't have -"

"You musta broken something pretty major in his brain when you left him." Jake's voice is joking, luckily, but she can sense a hint of something more. "The absolute devastation of a Santiago break-up speech, rehearsed or not."

"Harsh, Jake."

"Remember manbun musician? He went downright insane after your split - not that he was probably the sanest person around before that, but-"

"You promised we'd never mention him again."

"I'm just saying. I don't think any man left by you is going to be completely right in the head after that."

"You're making me sound like some black widow monster." She smiles, though, hearing the awe and affection in his voice bleed through.

"I'm not judging those guys, anyway." He continues, and that tinge of something else in his words is back. "I mean, I can't imagine what I'd be like if you ever decided to take Teddy up on one of his proposals."

She straightens up from her lean on his chest, twists in his arms without breaking the hug, and stares right into him as she studies his face - his actually slightly scared face.

"Jake, you know that's not ever-"

"I was joking babe."

"No. Jake. That's not even an option. Not even an idea. Never. Not in a million years. Not if-"

She grabs his shirt where it's unbuttoned, right next to his heart, and his hand reaches up to squeeze hers like it always does, thumb swiping along her rings.

"I know, Ames." The soft kiss that follows calms her just as much. "I cashed out that jackpot and I'm not giving it back."

She hums as she kisses him again, leans her forehead against his for a deep breath.

"It's just... sad." She returns to her original train of thought. "That he can't move on despite his life doing so. I mean, it's been years. He's got a new job and a new partner and a new baby, and he's willing to, what, dump all that? For me? For that idolised image he probably has in his mind of me now, because nothing between us has been real since ages ago?"

"Wow, this is really bugging you."

"Yes! He's barging into my life and thinking he knows what's best for me and that it's him, like I'm some love-struck silly dreamgirl who's going to drop her entire world because he's romantic enough to go down on one knee in front of our colleagues and superiors who have no idea what's going on-!"

Mac's noises from the next room turn from content to disagreeing, growing into what is sure to be a cry any minute now, and it's the only thing that can make them break apart from their hug. He calms down immediately when Amy lifts him out of his pen, and holds him close while she settles on the sofa next to the half-done laundry basket, snuffling against her chest in a very obvious I’m hungry mom couldn’t you tell?! move before she can even unbutton her dress shirt.

He latches on immediately when her shirt is open and her bra pulled down - not a nursing bra today, considering she got ready for an important work meeting - while she feels Jake rearrange the pillows behind her and to her side to get her comfortable, without a second of hesitation or having to think about it. He moves on to pick up the jacket she's dropped onto a dining room chair, drapes it on a hanger in the hallway, and she feels the soft prick of tears in her eyes before he settles down again next to the two of them with a glass of water for her set on the coffee table.

Jake only hums as he notices the shine in her eyes too, and wipes across her cheek. He knows that nursing can get her into a pretty emotional state sometimes, but this is probably a bit more than that.

"I love you." She says, and barely waits for his return of I love you too to continue. "I can't believe Teddy expects me to look at Mac, and look at you, and still think he could ever be a better offer for anything I want."

"Aw, babe." He grins softly in return while playing with Mac's foot that is kicking in his direction, covered in the fuzziest green socks with red apples on them. "You scored a pretty dope 2-for-1 deal with us, I admit."

“Before that, too.” She insists, leaning to unlatch Mac and hand him over to Jake to burp as they always do while she buttons back up, thinking about Teddy’s many proposals before Mac was even planned on. “Jake, you know that, right? You alone were the best deal first and foremost.”

He smiles at her, Mac’s soft little curls right next to his cheek as he sways and pats his back, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Jake-”

“You were happy with him.” He says, quietly, while Mac lets out his usual milky burp and smiles at him much wider when he wipes him clean with the linen cloth pulled from his shoulder. “I know it’s in the past and I - I’m not jealous or anything that stupid, but. Like you said... He wasn’t like this back then, and you were happy.”

His eyes seem forlorn, even as he smiles at the now sleepy baby in his lap that looks so much like him it always makes her heart twinge, that little bundle of joy with Amy’s dark hair and skin that seems to know the Cuban sun without ever having been there.

“And I know it’s not - and it doesn’t make sense to think about, but - sometimes his stupid proposals made me wonder what would’ve happened if he’d done that while he still made you happy.” His voice turns low, and it’s probably not just to avoid waking Mac back up as he falls asleep. “And that just makes me think about how I had to watch you be happy with him, and that’s not - that’s never a good memory to revisit, honestly-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes.” She leans over into his field of vision, the most serious look on her face. “Even back then, I wouldn’t have said yes to his proposal.”

Jake’s eyebrows scrunch up in question, his eyes turning into those puppy dog eyes that she knows as a direct hit to her heart when he’s actually sad or worried, and she can’t not hold his face in her hands again.

“Yes, I was happy with Teddy for a while, but looking back at it I realise I was- there was always this feeling of waiting for something. Hoping for something to be different.” She kisses him, careful and short and barely there, but enough to make him close his eyes and lean towards her a bit more. “And maybe back then I thought I was waiting for him to change somehow, but really I was only waiting for him to change into you.”

“Teddy couldn’t change into me if he had major brain surgery.” Jake scoffs, and Amy huffs a laugh with him.

“Yeah. And that’s why he’d never been right for me. That’s only ever been you.”

He finally, properly smiles now, eyes open again and set on her with a soft shine to them before he leans over more, as much as he can without waking the deeply asleep baby in his lap.

“I’m glad you figured that out when you did, in the end.” He quips and earns himself a shy nod. “And said yes when it came to the only good proposal you got.”

She snickers at that, thinking about the gaudy but wonderful boxing belt in her mementos box, and leans in the last few inches she needs to kiss him again, neither careful nor short this time, but equally as soft. 

“And the next time I catch Teddy trying to propose to you again I’m going to punch him out before he can even get down on one knee.”

“You are not assaulting a fellow officer.”

“Kick in the balls?”

“How very mature, Mister-I-have-an-actual-child-now.”

“Can I at least tell him where he can stick his ridiculous ideas of marrying you at any point in the future, no matter the circumstances?”

She hums for a second.

“You can. If you add in how ridiculous the idea was in the past as well.”

“Oh now, that’s a good deal.”

[moonlit-jeno]

valentine (m.)

pairing: reader x jung jaehyun x johnny seo x kim jungwoo x kim doyoung

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | fivesome | mentions of drinking | absolute filth

words: 3.8k

summary: a series of unfortunate events leaves the five of you alone on a day meant to be spent together

“You’re back early.” Doyoung comments, glancing up from his phone to watch you storm into your apartment. He’s in the same spot on the couch that he was in when you left.

You throw your purse onto the counter, angrily stripping your coat off. “Yeah. The guy blew me off. Can you believe that?” You walk into your room and peel your dress off of you, trading it for a comfy pair of sweats. The lingerie stays on, though. It makes you feel cute. When you come back into the living room, Doyoung hands you a beer and pats the space next to him. “He didn’t even text me until I’d been waiting for fifteen minutes.” “Yeah well, he’s a fucking asshole.” Doyoung says it like he’s stating the obvious. You guess he is. “But hey, at least you can spend some quality room with your roommate who isn’t an asshole!” You raise your eyebrows. “Yay.” There isn’t an ounce of emotion in your voice.

Doyoung glares at you but he can’t be too annoyed. He hands you the TV remote. “You choose. My ex changed the password on my Netflix account and won’t let me log back in, so. That’s not an option.”

“You’re kidding. Do you want me to go to her house?” You normally leech off of Doyoung’s Netflix account, so this is a direct attack to you.

He snorts. “I’ll think about it.” It’s an hour later and you’ve flipped through every station the TV has to offer, finding nothing but shitty made-for-tv romance movies and game shows. You give up watching and pick up your phone, checking social media. An array of happy couples assault you and you groan, switching apps. It isn’t any better.

“Valentine’s day is stupid.” Doyoung groans, clearly in a similar state of boredom. 

“Amen.” You click your phone off and let your head fall back against the couch, finding the ceiling more appealing than the endless Snapchat stories. 

“Definitely the worst holiday.” You think about it for a moment. “Hey, no. Think about all the candy they’ll have on sale tomorrow.” His agreement is interrupted by a knock and you exchange a glance with him. “Did you invite someone over?” He shakes his head.

You swing the door open to reveal Johnny and Jaehyun. Johnny’s holding a cake and smiling broadly. Jaehyun looks dead inside.

“Hey?” You greet them, slightly confused as to why they’re at your apartment. Doyoung doesn’t look like he has any idea either. “What’s up?” “Well, we were going to go out to dinner for Jae’s birthday but the restaurant lost our reservation and everywhere else was beyond crowded.” Johnny’s laugh is almost apologetic. “I knew Doyoung was staying in, but I thought you had a date.” His eyes roam over your figure, clearly taking in the combination of your loose sweats and stained sweatshirt. “Yeah, I had a date. He blew me off.”

Both boys grimace. “Shit. Want me to kill him?” You step back to let them in, laughing lightly. “Nah, that’s alright. Come on in, we can sit in our misery together.” Johnny and Jaehyun smile and shuffle in, though Jaehyun’s looks a little forced. “I can’t promise you a gourmet dinner, but we do have frozen pizzas and ice cream.” Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds pretty gourmet to me. I’m gonna use the bathroom, if that’s alright.” The three of you watch him walk away before Johnny turns to you and Doyoung.

“Sorry to barge in, but he always gets so lonely on his birthday, and I wanted to cheer him up. I don’t think that him seeing all the couples out tonight really helped.” Johnny sighs. 

You grimace. “Oh god, yeah.” 

“You know you’re always welcome over.” Doyoung shrugs. “Not like you were interrupting anything.” He walks away to turn the oven on, pulling out the pizza. “It should take twenty minutes? Not really sure. Our oven’s kind of broken.” Johnny laughs. “No problem. Can I set this down somewhere?” He raises the cake in question and you motion to your counter. “Are we feeling wine or vodka tonight?” Jaehyun makes his return at the exact moment you ask the question. 

“Definitely vodka.” He responds, already pulling the glasses out of your cupboard. You snicker. It certainly is that kind of night.

Johnny’s phone chimes and he checks it, snorting. “Seems like a bad night for all of us. Ten just abandoned Jungwoo for a date.” “Tell him to come over.” Doyoung says. “We’ll have a party of our own.”

Jungwoo shows up 30 minutes later, equipped with bags of takeout and a pout on his face. You don’t have enough chairs for everyone so you eat it on the couch, squished between the arm rest and Jungwoo. “We were supposed to go clubbing.” He whines, stripping his jacket off. “I even put on my expensive cologne.” “Rough. Who’s he out on a date with, anyway?” He shoves half the container of noodles into his mouth. “Someone on Tinder! Can you believe that he abandoned me for a Tinder match?”

“Unbelievable.” Jaehyun pats his back while the rest of you nod solemnly. Johnny pours the rest of you shots.

“Fuck Valentine’s day.” He raises his glass in a toast before tossing it back, grimacing slightly. A chorus of ‘fuck Valentine’s day’ sounds around the room as you follow suit.

You’re all tipsy by the time you move onto cake, singing a very dramatic version of happy birthday to Jaehyun. He giggles his way through it, dimples making an appearance as he blows the candles out..

“What’d you wish for?” You demand, leaning forward. Jaehyun winks at you and holds a finger to his lips. “Can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” You pout. He pinches your cheeks.

Johnny takes charge of cutting the cake while Doyoung runs to the kitchen, returning with a can of whipped cream and some ice cream. Jungwoo looks down at the slice Johnny gives him, and then back up at Johnny with raised eyebrows. He shoves the whole piece into his mouth in one go. Johnny gives him a significantly larger second piece.

“You know what the most devastating part of tonight is?” Jungwoo asks, spooning ice cream onto his cake. “I’m not even going to get laid. That’s like, the one thing I was hoping for.” “Hey, that’s what I wished for!” Jaehyun exclaims. His head rests heavily on Johnny’s shoulder and Johnny laughs, patting his back.

“I thought you said that you couldn’t tell us or it wouldn’t come true.” You chime in.

Jaehyun shrugs. “Not like it’s gonna come true anyways.” “I’m pretty sure that’s what we were all wishing for.” Doyoung chimes in.

Johnny raises his forkful of cake. “I’ll toast to that.” “Same.” You respond, trying to remember the last time you had sex, then trying to remember the last time you had good sex. Then you pause. “Wait. You’re all hot as fuck, how are you not getting laid?” They all shrug. Jaehyun grins, dimples on full display. “Aww, you think we’re hot. Would you sleep with us?” Maybe it’s the alcohol that has you nodding, maybe not. You’ve always been shameless, especially in front of people you’re comfortable with. “Yeah? Like I said, you all hot as fuck.” “You’re pretty hot too, y/n.” Johnny says. “I don’t know how Doyoung can live with you and not be sexually frustrated as fuck.” Jungwoo giggles. “He is, though.” Doyoung smacks the younger and Jungwoo squeaks, still laughing. You shoot Doyoung a questioning look and he just shrugs. 

The five of you continue eating, finishing the cake and chatting mindlessly. “Y/n,” Jungwoo is suddenly way too close, using his hand to tilt your chin up. “You have a little something…” He uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth at the same time that you flick your tongue out to lick at the stray whipped cream. The result is Jungwoo’s thumb sliding past your lips, and for whatever reason, your brain tells you to suck on the digit. And you do.

Jungwoo watches with wide eyes as you close your lips around his thumb, using your tongue to tease the tip of it as you suck. A soft moan leaves him, his eyes groaning wide. He swallows thickly.

“Oh, baby.” Jungwoo groans, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and replacing it with his lips. You all but melt into the kiss, pressing forward into him, sliding your hand into his hair to pull him closer.

You get so lost in the kiss that you forget about the rest of the people grouped around the couch. It isn’t until Jungwoo starts kissing down your neck and you let your head fall to the side that you notice. 

Jaehyun and Doyoung are watching you with slack jaws, eyes locked on the blissed out expression you wear, ears straining to catch the noises you make. Johnny looks unaffected, watching with something dark in his eyes. 

You try to pull away but Jungwoo growls, something so startling for the normally soft spoken man. He slides his hand up your thigh, pulling you over to straddle his waist. There’s a sharp gasp as you rock your hips down on instinct, feeling the shape of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. 

“Seems a little selfish of you to ignore the birthday boy.” You and Jungwoo make out for a bit longer before Johnny speaks up. You turn your head to find Johnny standing in front of you, his hand on Jaehyun’s lower back to push him forward. “Why don’t you give him his present?” You bite your lips and turn yourself around on Jungwoo’s lap, sitting so that your back is to his chest. “What do you want?” Jaehyun seems to debate the question, glazed eyes roaming over your figure. “I want...” His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he swallows thickly. “I want to taste you.” “What the birthday boy wants.” You shrug, trying and failing to seem unaffected. In reality your panties are soaked and you’re beyond excited to have Jaehyun’s face between your thighs. 

He wastes no time sliding your pajama pants off, revealing your bare legs and your panty clad core. You’d forgotten about the lacy lingerie set you’d slipped on earlier until Jaehyun snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin.

“Oh shit,” Jaehyun moans, sliding his hand up your bare legs. “You're so soft.” Doyoung laughs despite himself. “Guess that’s where all the hot water went.” You open your mouth to respond but get cut off as Jungwoo pulls your sweatshirt over your head. Similar swears echo around the room. “Fuck baby, who is this for?” 

Jungwoo pinches your nipple over the fabric of your bra and your back arches, pushing your chest further into his touch. You moan softly, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Me, bitch. I deserve to feel sexy.”

“Fuck yeah, you do.” Johnny groans at the same time Doyoung chimes in with a “Look even sexier.”

You squirm as Jaehyun attaches his lips to your ankle, kissing his way up your leg until he’s at your thigh. The ticklish feeling has you squirming but you’re held in place by Jaehyun’s large palms. 

A hand slides into your hair and you whine, looking up to find Doyoung staring at you with dark eyes. “Can you make me feel good, princess?” You nod, leaning forward to mouth at the bulge in his boxers and he swears, struggling to tug the fabric off with one hand. A second pair of hands land on Doyoung’s hips and the man jumps, looking back to find Johnny there. “You look like you need some help.” Is all he whispers as he slides Doyoung boxers down.

Doyoung looks ready to argue but you’re sinking your mouth down around him before he can, just sucking at the tip. He’s bitter on your tongue, but not unpleasant. It’s certainly worth it to be able to watch his eyelids fluttering closed, low moans leaving him.

A whine leaves you as Jungwoo continues to play with your chest, pinching at your nipples over the lace of your bra until there are tears in your eyes. His dick is hard against your ass and you rut back against him, drawing a sweet moan from him as he tugs harshly at your nipples. You cry out but the sound is muffled around Doyoung’s cock.

Jaehyun chooses that moment to attach his mouth to your center, kissing and sucking at your core through your panties. A whine leaves you as you buck up against his mouth, trying to get more. You go to pull off of Doyoung but then there’s another set of hands in your hair, forcing you down until Doyoung’s cock hits the back of your throat. 

“Oh baby, you can do better than that, can’t you?” It’s Johnny, guiding your pace from where he stands behind Doyoung. His eyes are heavy as he watches you blow his friend, and you catch the subtle movement of his hips as he grinds against Doyoung. 

You let out a muffled noise of agreement, sucking harshly on Doyoung’s cock. He fills your mouth up nicely, your lips having to stretch a little to fit him, but not too much. Tears well up in your eyes as you take him deeper into your throat, gagging lightly. 

There’s a tearing sound as Jaehyun rips your panties off of your body, wasting no time before diving into your core. His nose bumps your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, his hands sliding up to grip at the back of your thighs as he tries to pull you even closer to his face. You cry out at the pleasure coursing through your veins, squirming as your mind runs a million miles an hour, trying desperately to process the situation. Jungwoo’s hands massaging your tits, Doyoung’s cock deep in your throat, Jaehyun eating you out like you’re his last meal. 

You force your heavy lids open and make eye contact with Johnny. He’s watching you with fire in his eyes and it’s the last you register before you’re coming, yanking your mouth off of Doyoung’s cock and biting into the skin of his thigh. Your legs try desperately to close around Jaehyun’s head but neither him nor Jungwoo let up, working you through your high until you’re a sobbing mess. It’s only then that Jaehyun pulls away from you, though Doyoung doesn’t seem to have the same reservations. You’ve only just caught your breath when he slides his cock back between your lips, fucking into your mouth, once, twice before he’s shooting his come down your throat.

It’s quiet for a minute as you catch your breath, sagging back into Jungwoo. Jaehyun’s still between your legs, though he’s resting his head against your thigh. Your eye catches movement and you lean forward to watch Jaehyun jerk his cock desperately, hips bucking up into his hand. 

You literally just came but already your body is heating back up. Suddenly you need to have all of them, need them to fuck you until you can’t even move, until they’re imprinted in your body. You run your hand through Jaehyun’s hair, tugging at the strands to make him look up at you.

“Let me take care of you now.” Jaehyun nods, blinking slowly, and then it’s a race to get to the bed. You all crowd into Doyoung’s room because he’s the one with the bigger bed, and suddenly he’s forgiven for all the times he's forgotten to do the dishes.

“God, I want to fuck you.” Jungwoo moans, clambering onto the bed. A whimper leaves you as you think about having him in your pussy, but then you look over to Jaehyun and your mouth goes dry at how desperate he looks. He has his hand shoved down the front of his pants and he’s grinding against his palm, jaw slack as he pleasures himself. 

“Mhmm, me too. Jaehyun’s first though.” You pant out, trying to help Jungwoo out of his skinny jeans. Jungwoo whines impatiently. “You have two holes though. Why can’t we just share?” You vaguely hear Johnny laugh over the white noise in your brain. The idea of having both of them fuck you at once has you feeling much too hot, and you cringe as you feel more wetness drip out of you. “You seem to like that idea.” Johnny comments, stroking your side softly. You whine. 

“But what about you?” You realize that he hasn’t been touched yet and you move your hand to cup him over his boxers. He hisses. 

His voice is strangled as he gently bats your hand away, moving off the bed. Doyoung takes his place. “I’m okay with watching, for now. I’ll get my turn later.” You nod, turning to Jaehyun. “Jae, baby, do you want to fuck my pussy? Or my ass?” Jaehyun’s hips stutter where he’s still grinding against his hand and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Fuck, you can’t just ask me that.” He groans, pausing his movements to strip his clothes off. “God, can I fuck your ass?”

You grin, nodding. Doyoung ghosts his thumb over your ass and you jolt, moaning at the touch. “Johnny, condoms.” You wave your hand in the general direction of your nightstand and he gets the hint, throwing a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube at you. 

Doyoung wastes no time in sliding one of his long fingers into your ass. The stretch has you hissing but he pays you no mind, starting a gentle rhythm and smoothing his hand down your side. Jungwoo rolls a condom on and hisses as he strokes himself, head falling back at the relief. 

“Wait,” You pause Doyoung, crawling over to Jungwoo. “Wanna ride him while you finger me.

Jungwoo strokes your hips as you straddle him, sinking down onto his cock slowly. His face screws up in pleasure and he lets out a moan, the sound so pretty that it has you clenching around him. He moves to undo your bra, letting your breasts fall free so that he can bury his face between them. His hands cup them perfectly and he massages them, turning his head to leave kisses on the skin.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Jungwoo moans, the words muffled by your chest. You hum in agreement, swiveling your hips to feel the thickness of his cock, how nicely he presses against your walls.

Doyoung fucks two, then three fingers into your ass, turning you into a moaning mess as you fuck yourself onto both Jungwoo’s cock and Doyoung’s fingers. You already feel so full, but you know it’s about to get so much better.

“Jaehyun.” You moan, turning you head to find the man. “Jaehyun, come on, want you in me.” He nods, reaching for a condom, but Johnny beats him to it. You watch with a slack jaw as Johnny rolls the condom onto Jaehyun, pouring lube onto his cock. Johnny strokes Jaehyun just a little too slowly to be considered comforting, and Jaehyun’s face contorts as he tries to fuck up into the others grip.

Johnny lets go and pats his hip. “I think Y/N’s tight ass is going to feel a lot better than my hand.”

Jaehyun sits up, flustered, and moves to replace Doyoung. You whine at the loss of the man’s fingers, though you cut yourself off with a gasp as Jaehyun presses the head of his cock against your fluttering hole.

Jungwoo kisses you through the discomfort as Jaehyun slides his cock into your tight hole, stretching your body beyond anything you’ve ever felt. You can’t stop moaning and you feel like you can’t breathe, desperately trying to gasp for air. Jungwoo eventually pulls away to let you rest your forehead against his, his hand moving down to find your clit. You jolt against him and whine, molten lava filling your insides.

Jaehyun lets out an almost feral groan when he bottoms out, panting heavily. “You feel so good.” Jaehyun swears. “So fucking tight, baby. Have you ever let anyone fuck your ass before?” “Yeah, but I-” He starts moving and your voice dies, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Jungwoo fucks up into your pussy, his head falling back.

“But?” He asks sweetly, encouraging you to finish. It’s almost impossible with how they’re touching you, though. Jungwoo must know it.

“But I’ve never had two guys at once.” You whimper, giving up trying to hold yourself up and letting them manhandle you. “I feel so full.”

They build up a rhythm, tearing you apart piece by piece until you’re a mindless, moaning mess. You swear you’ve never felt this good. All your nerves seem to be set on fire, and it seems like there’s a knot building in your stomach as your climax grows closer.

Doyoung once again finds comfort in your mouth, his hips bucking up as you suck him off. You moan at how full you feel, being surrounded by three guys while a fourth one watches. It’s absolute heaven.

“Jungwoo.” Johnny calls out. “Ten just texted you. His Tinder date was a flop.” “Shouldn’t have abandoned me.” Jungwoo calls back. “Though with how tonight’s going, I’m not sure I can be mad.”

Jaehyun pulls his mouth from your neck and you whine at the loss of heat, squirming as he blows cool air over the area. “Send him a picture of us. Show him what he’s missing out on.” You make the neediest noise you’ve ever made in your life at the suggestion, and all three men swear. The vibrations travel up Doyoung’s cock and he fucks up into your mouth, choking you. “Yeah? You all okay with that?” A chorus of yes’s go around the room, though Doyoung doesn’t let you pull off of him. “Y/N? You good with that?” “You should’ve felt how fucking tight she got when you said that, she’s more than okay with it.” Jaehyun pants out. 

Doyoung briefly lets go of you when Johnny says “I need to hear her say it.” You cough for a minute before yelling out a “please, yes” and taking Doyoung’s cock back into your mouth.

There’s a click as Johnny takes the picture and you clench again, sending Jaehyun and Jungwoo into a frenzy. Jungwoo groans and dips his head down to mouth at your breasts, sucking hickies into the delicate skin, taking your nipple between his lips. Jaehyun pulls his hand back to land a slap on your ass, leaving his hand there to knead at the flesh. 

Doyoung moans out that he’s coming and you swallow his come for the second time that night, panting as he lets you rest your head on his thigh. A phone chimes repeatedly and Johnny laughs, turning the ringer off. “Looks like Ten liked our picture.” The thought of someone else seeing you like this, wanting to be in this situation, fills your mind and you tip over the edge, vision whiting out as you moan wantonly. You claw at Jungwoo’s shoulders as you try desperately to ground yourself, sandwiched between the two men.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Jaehyun groans, hips snapping against your ass sloppily. You whine, clenching around him repeatedly, the oversensitivity too much. Jungwoo pays no mind to the fact that you’ve just come, continuing to fuck up into you. “Fuckkk,” Jaehyun pulls out of you quickly and you hiss at the loss. Wet warmth hits your lower back, your ass, and the top of your thighs and Jaehyun curses loudly before collapsing on the mattress with a satisfied moan.

Jungwoo comes soon after with his mouth on one of your breasts, his hand on the other. You bounce on top of him to help him draw it out for as long as possible, going until he’s throwing his head back and crying out from the sensitivity.

Johnny’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. He sits next to the bed in Doyoung’s desk chair, stroking his cock slowly, almost lazily. It’s thick and long and looks delicious. You want it in your mouth. 

He smirks, clearly catching your hungry gaze. “Aww, baby still wants more?” His voice is taunting but you don’t even care, just nodding obediently.

You roll onto your back and spread your legs, giving easy access to the man. Johnny just shakes his head. “Turn over. Want you on your hands and knees.” He wastes no time sliding into your dripping core, starting a brutal rhythm right from the start. You cry out and try to keep yourself up but Johnny shoves your chest to the mattress, pulling your hips higher so that he can get deeper. His body is draped over yours, his chest flush to your back. You can’t physically get any closer.

“Such a fucking cockslut.” Johnny hisses into your ear, voice low and delicious. “Letting four different guys fuck you, come on you. Bet you wish there were more.” You whine and make some sort of noise of agreement. “Ten’s probably jerking off to that picture I sent him. Does that make you happy?” Johnny nips at your earlobe and slides his hand down to rub at your clit. “Or are you upset? You probably rather that he was here, probably want his cock in your mouth too.” Another whine leaves you and Johnny pinches your clit. You thrash, the feeling too much. Your orgasm is rushing to the surface, electricity shooting through your body as the knot grows tighter and tighter. “What was that?” “I want it! Fuck, I want his cock in my mouth.” You moan, eyes rolling shut. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come.”

Johnny fucks you through your orgasm, hissing filthy words in your ear as your vision blacks out, registering nothing but how fucking good you feel. You clamp down around his thick cock and he groans, pulling out and ripping the condom off, jerking himself off all over your lower back.

Jungwoo crawls closer and kisses you, gently helping you come down. You’re shaking in your post-orgasmic bliss, lifting an arm to pull him closer. Jaehyun presses in from the other side, stroking your hair and peppering kisses all over your forehead.

You flinch when a damp cloth lands on your back and you turn to find Johnny smiling apologetically, cleaning the come off of your skin. “Sorry, I’ll try to make this quick.” A hiss leaves you as he wipes between your legs, squirming at the discomfort. Jungwoo swipes a finger through your folds and you hiss, biting his lip harshly. He giggles.

The five of you redress, both Jungwoo and Jaehyun stealing one of Doyoung’s shirts. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering where Jaehyun’s shirt went, but then you realize that it’s his shirt that he’s tugging over your head. The fabric is warm and smells amazing. You want to sink into it.

“Do you need anything?” Doyoung asks, rubbing his hand up your thigh. “You were amazing, by the way. It wasn’t too much, was it?” You shake your head. “No, it was perfect. I wouldn’t mind a piece of cake, though.”

Doyoung leaves to get the cake, complaining when he comes back and finds there’s no room for him.

("It’s my bed!”

“Okay, and? That’s also your chair.”

“Yeah, and this is my fist about to go into your face”)

It’s 1 AM when you check the time and it’s certainly much too late for them to go home so you tell them to stay, letting them arrange themselves among the couch and the guest bed.

“Doyoung?” You ask, hesitating by the door. Your bed is big and warm and empty right now, but that’s not what you want. Not after what you just experienced. It’s too empty. “Doyoung, do you think I could stay with you tonight?”

He seems surprised by your question but he nods, shifting over to give you room. “Of course. But you're the big spoon tonight.” You snort. “That’s good with me.”

The two of you arrange yourselves comfortably, and it’s so painfully nice that you could cry. You can’t even remember the last time you cuddled someone like this. “Hey Y/N? Happy Valentine’s day.” “Happy Valentine’s day. I guess it isn’t the worst holiday after all.”

[star-lemonade]

School reunion (1/3)

A.C.E Junhee x Reader

Cw: bulling, kinda angsty, Junhee is a sweet heart though

Rating: T (Series R)

Word count: 3.6 k

Summary: You hire someone to accompany you to your school reunion.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. The laptop sat on the kitchen table and the page in the browser was taunting you. You stared at the screen from your spot against the kitchen counter. The empty boxes waited for you to fill in your information. Should I really do this?

You sighed and filled some water into the kettle just to delay having to make a decision. The other thing on the kitchen table was not better. It was an invitation to your school reunion. The reunion was scheduled for the Saturday of the following week at your old school. School. Even the address on the paper brought a bad taste to your mouth.

“You’re so ugly, who would ever date you?”

“I dare you to kiss her.”

“Yak not even for money”

You shuddered. No, no, there is no way I will go there alone. You sat down at the table and began to fill in the form. Name, address, phone and age. On the next page they asked about the occasion or event and you typed: school reunion.

Time? about 3 hours. I won’t stay there for too long.

Gender preference? Hmm I don’t actually care. ‘Don’t care’ was not an option, so you chose ‘man preferred’ over the ‘man only’, ‘woman preferred’ and ‘woman only’ options.

Age preferences? 25-35. I can’t show up there with an 18 year old.

Your finger hovered over the enter button. The shadow of your school days was still haunting you and made your hand heavier until you finally clicked check out.

You had officially rented a plus one for your school reunion.

A day after you had filled out the form you received a message from an unknown number.

“Hello, this is Junhee. I will accompany you to your school reunion next week. Would it be okay if I asked some questions so I can prepare?”

“Hi, Junhee. What do you want to know?”

“How should I introduce myself?”

You chewed on your lip. As you typed the next message your face felt warm.

“As my boyfriend.”

It felt so sad to ask this of a total stranger and you prayed he would not judge you for it. Please don’t question this, please don’t question this.

“How long have we been together?”

I guess that is a valid question someone could ask. You thought about it for a moment. It should not be too short but also not too long. The fact that you did know much about each other would make it not believable that you are together for years.

“A few months maybe?”

He asked a few more questions like “where and how did we meet?” (“at work while getting coffee”) and you answered them with whatever struck your mind.

“Okay. I think this is enough for me. Thank you!”

You sighed. This was actually more complicated than you had anticipated. At least now it felt real as opposed to just a scam to get money from people. Three dots appeared on your screen again.

“One last thing. This is also in the terms of service, but we all must remind our customers about this: I am not a hooker and you did not book sexual favours.”

Your face burned when you read that. Surely no one had asked for that before, had they?

“Of cause not, I just don’t want to go alo-”

Before you really thought about it, you had accidently pressed ‘send’ instead of backspace. Oh no. OH NO.

“Shit.”

My escort knows how pathetic I am. ‘As if he did not know before’ another part of you interjected. Your phone vibrated again.

“It’s okay, I will do my best to keep you company :)”

You did not know what to answer and just send:

“Thank you.”

As the reunion neared you found yourself thinking about it more. A sort of dread had settled in your chest. After all these years you would finally face your bullies. The people who had belittled you for not been pretty enough and made you believe that you could never find anyone who loved you. The worst thing was it seemed that they were right. You were single and you even had to hire someone… no. No, you would not let them get to you. The past years had been the happiest you had ever been. You had friends, even if they were not many, and you did well at your job. There was nothing not to be proud of. Even if you were single now, that did not mean you were unlovable. It just meant that you had not met a person that fit. You would walk in there, head held high and show those petty bitches you were not afraid of them anymore.

Your mood oscillated between confident and anxious for the whole week. You did not want to give them the satisfaction of knowing you were still so affected by them, that their mere presence could make you stay away. No, you had to go. Like this you killed the time to the day of the reunion.

You had rented a dress from a rental service. It was not too fancy but you simply did not own that many dresses and the ones you had did not seem appropriate. Someone on the organizing committee had decided that nice dresses and suits were what they wanted to see. You had messaged Junhee to wear something appropriate for that dress code.

“In a few hours it’s over.”

Your mirror image was not convinced by this but it was all you could do now. Backing out last minute would make you look bad, even if you really wanted to. All of this seemed like a bad idea. What if they found out that you had hired someone to play your boyfriend? You would be the laughing stock of the whole school and this after you had not been in school for years. For a moment you considered just taking off the dress, putting on some sweaters and sitting down on the couch. Your phone made a noise. A new message had arrived.

“At 5 pm at the station, right?”

Junhee.

“Yes. See you there.”

As if it was mocking you, the sun shone from a bright blue sky. The people on the street smiled more than you had seen in some time. On the other hand it was maybe your imagination. Now that you were walking to what could be the worst night of your recent history, everyone seemed in a better state than you.

You arrived at the station.

“I’m wearing a red dress.”

Maybe the dress was a bit much. It had seemed like a good idea. Wearing red would make you stand out. Now, however, that was the opposite of what you wanted to do. Fading into the background, turning invisible and just straight up going back home was what you really wanted right now. The only thing that was that held you back was the thought of the money you had spent upfront for your plus one.

Two young women stopped next to you. One of them sat her backpack down and tried to stuff a paper bag into it.

“Should I help?”

Her friend watched her struggle with amusement. Despite her offer she did not help backpack girl but looked around instead.

You shifted your attention to your phone. Junhee had seen your message. Good. I hope he will be here soon. So we can get this over with.

“Jeez, I wish my boyfriend looked like that,” the girl said as her friend proclaimed: “I’m done. Let’s go.”

Backpack girl dragged her friend away. At least she had a boyfriend. It was not like you needed a man in your life but it would be nice sometimes. Next week I will try tinder. From past experience that was not likely but the thought alone seemed to pacify your mind for now. Getting a boyfriend was future-you’s problem. Present-you had to worry about that goddamn school reunion.

Someone said your name.

“Hmm?”

You were not sure which part shocked you the most: the crisp black suit that hugged the man’s body perfectly, the curly dark hair that looked straight out of a romcom, the beautiful lips and handsome face, the million dollar smile or the soft voice that said your name. It was hard to choose.

“Ehm?”

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Junhee.”

“ID please.”

You showed it to the sour faced student behind the supermarket counter. He nodded and you paid. Buying hard alcohol in broad daylight was highly suspicious but this situation called for it. You definitely could not do this sober. Junhee had sat down on a bench not too far from the supermarket. The black suit and white dress shirt fit him perfectly. It was as if watching a photo shoot for the next wedding catalog. Oh, this is a catastrophe. You unscrewed the bottle and took a good mouthful. The cheap alcohol burned in your mouth and all the way down. No one in their right mind would believe he is my boyfriend. It could not be more obvious that you had hired him. Junhee watched the cars go by. The sun made his hair seem more brown than black and the light breeze moved the soft locks. You took another gulp and stuffed the bottle in your handbag. Did I accidentally book a model? There had not been an option for that of course. I should have asked for a photo. You left the store and walked over to Junhee. Maybe I should just send him home and go drink at a bar.

When he saw you, Junhee stood up. His charming smile filled you with dread. This is a car crash waiting to happen.

“Did you get everything?”

You nodded. Soon the alcohol would hit your brain. Maybe then you would care less about everything. You could not bring yourself to send Junhee away. He had come here, looking sharp and you had paid money for him to be here. Your stinginess won against better judgment, so your only option was the original one: go to your old school.

It felt like there was a black cloud of doom that thickened as you got nearer. The bad experiences from the past made every step you took towards that hell hole more difficult. You wanted to run away.

“Can I take your hand?”

Junhee. You had almost forgotten about him. He had not said anything for the past ten minutes or so. Maybe he felt that now was not a good time to talk. You offered your hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours. It had been some time since you held someone’s hand and it made your heart beat faster. Or maybe it was the liquor.

You turned the corner and there it was. The building looked the same as in your memory. Whoever had the idea of starting the evening here before instead of going to a restaurant directly, did not have your gratitude. Walking through the front door stiffly, you clenched your hands. Your whole body was tense. You were ready to fight or flee at any second.

Voices were coming from the gym. Next to the open door stood a table. On it were pens and stickers. As you approached a woman came through the door and smiled at you. It was the most fake smile you had seen in some time.

“Welcome! Please make a name tag for yourself.”

She made a swiping gesture to the table. You let go of Junhee’s hand and wrote your name on a sticker. The woman watched Junhee as he made a tag for himself. You had never been the jealous type but right then wanted to claw her eyes out.

“Have fun.”

You almost felt her looking as you entered the gym. The hall was filled with bar tables groups had formed and all eyes were on you. At one of the empty tables you stopped.

“I will get something to drink. What do you want?”

You barely heard your own answer over the ringing in your ears. The ceiling had been decorated but it made the hall seem more shabby. As if the paper garlands were only there to hide the cracks in the grey concrete. You looked around.

They looked back at you from the other table, pointed and smirked at each other. Your bullies. They looked old. The ten years since graduation had carved lines into their faces but they tried to hide it by applying too much makeup.

You felt sick.

“Hey.”

A hand landed on your shoulder and you jerked. Junhee pulled back his hand. He studied your face.

“Do you want to leave?”

You looked up. Leave? Leaving meant giving up. They won if you left. No, no you were strong. Your hand strangled your purse. You would not run away from them. Junhee‘s brown eyes watched the tremor in your hand.

“Let’s go,” he whispered and took your hand. Your skin was cold and sweaty against his as Junhee dragged you out. You were so shocked, you did not even say anything until you had left through the front door.

“Stop!”

You ripped your hand free from his grasp.

“You should not stay there any longer.”

“That is not your call to make,” you snapped at him.

His face flushed.

“No, but it is the right one.”

Before you could talk back he continued in a calm tone: “You don’t care about any of those people and they don’t care about you.”

He waved his hands.

“I don't know what happened in the past but you are not here to meet some old friends.”

Your eyes burned. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s humiliating. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision blurred.

“Not here.”

Junhee grabbed your shoulder and led you away. The tears fogged your vision, so you just followed wherever he was going. Your feet moved on their own accord and you were thankful for it. Holding back an undignified sob took up all your mental capacity.

“Sit.”

You collapsed on the bench. There was nothing holding the tears back now. You looked like an idiot in front of everyone. Your bullies had seen you turn up with an escort only to run away the second they looked at you. And now you cried on a bench in front of said escort. How pathetic had your life become? You had not felt this bad since leaving school.

Get a grip. There was nothing to be done here. You did not feel better by telling yourself this, but at least one of these could be fixed. Try to stop crying.

You concentrated on a point on the ground. The concrete was cracked there and something green had started to push its way to the surface. Plants are amazing. They can even exist in these places.

Your eyes still burned and your nose was all clogged up, but you had stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, Junhee.”

You looked up. There was no one around. When did he leave? You sighed and your eyes burnt again. I guess it is just that kind of day. Going home sounded like a good idea but you could not bring yourself to get up. The weight of your sorrows kept you on the bench. You could not even blame Junhee for leaving either. Usually you were very composed and rarely had outbursts of any kind, but today was just not your day.

“Here.”

A bottle of water entered your field of view. Your gaze followed the arm that was holding it up until you met Junhee’s eyes. You took the bottle and almost cried again because he was still here. For better or worse he had not abandoned you on a bench.

The water was cold. It had clearly been in a fridge not too long ago.

“Thank you.”

Junhee sat down next to you and waited while you drank the water. This day, although it was not over, was already a train wreck. Very carefully Junhee asked: “Can we get something to eat?”

You nodded slowly. Food was not a bad idea. You had skipped lunch because you had not been hungry at the time.

“Sure.”

Junhee stood up and looked around, hands on his hips. He turned to you and asked in a hushed tone:

“Where do we have to go?”

There was nothing funny about it but you laughed anyway. Junhee looked like a lost puppy and when he saw you laughing, he pouted. Now this really was funny.

“The station is that way.”

Junhee looked at his phone. He took off his tie and pocketed it.

“Technically I’m free to go now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “We just got here and ordered food and you want to go?” was what you wanted to say but swallowed it. You were still embarrassed and grateful that Junhee was there with you. He had made dumb jokes all the way to your favorite restaurant. It was almost on the other end of town but it was the only place you wanted to be right now.

“So, you wanna leave?”

“Leave? No, no!”

He waved his hands frantically.

“I … meant I’m not here because of work now.”

The soju had painted Junhee’s cheeks a rosy red. It looked good on him.

“What do you do when you don’t do this?”

You gestured vaguely at you and him sitting together in your favorite restaurant. Surely it had to be model or something like that just based on what you had seen so far. Technically you were not supposed to ask personal questions but your contract was done. Technically.

“I’m a student. I study computer science, but I will graduate soon.”

He took a sip from his drink. That rang a bell in the back of your mind. Computer science? Someone was talking to me about that not long ago. Who was it?

The waiter came and set your food on the table. He opened the lid of the barbecue that was mounted in the table.

“Have a good meal.”

“Thank you.”

When you left the restaurant, the sun had set. You felt a little awkward. It had been nice spending time with Junhee even if you had been very distressed earlier. Before you could really think about it, the words fell from your mouth.

“Thank you for spending the day with me. It was nice.”

You did not look at him. It felt unnatural but you meant it and had to say it.

“It was nice for me too.”

Junhee’s hair was not as neat as earlier. The waves had flattened and the way he always combed it left it looking disheveled. His cheeks were flushed from the food and the drinks.

You were not sure what to say. “Goodbye for ever” seemed a bit odd.

“Good luck with your studies. See you around.”

“Goodbye.”

You left Junhee at the restaurant and walked home. It was not too far so you could walk. The night air was refreshing after the stuffy restaurant. It also cleared the dryness of your eyes and nose.

Your apartment was dark and empty. You took a quick shower, put on your pyjamas and went to bed. The day had been emotionally exhausting and you were drifting into the fuzzy precursor to sleep. Your mind drifted through some memories and thoughts but nothing was clear. It hit you. You were wide awake because your brain had found the answer to the question. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand. The light from the screen nearly blinded you.

John, a name he had chosen because none of his overseas clients could pronounce ‘Seungmin’, was the CTO of a company that had their offices in the same building as your company. Without thinking much about it you sent Junhee John’s number.

“He is looking for some computer science people. Maybe that’s something for you. Anyways good luck and best wishes.”

You tried not to think too much about that day. It still felt like a defeat even months later. You had run away from your bullies. They had looked at you and you had folded. It was a bitter memory. The logical part of you noted that it was not worth your time, that you should focus on the tasks at hand and live your life.

You spent time with your friends and on your hobbies. Indeed your spirits lifted slowly. The less time you spent ruminating about the past the more time you could spend on other things.

“Let’s get lunch. I’m starving.”

You agree with your colleague. You grabbed your phone and keys. Your colleague was already at the elevator and held open the door.

Two floors down the elevator stopped and the door opened.

“Hey!”

John and some of his staff entered. You waved and smiled. John was a man in late 40 or early 50s, you had never asked, but he gave off the youthful energy of someone who loved his job. A ‘ding!’ announced the closing of the doors but John jammed his leg and arm between it.

“Hurry up, newbie! We can’t have you starve on the first day!”

Steps echoed in the hallway and the newbie flew into the tight space. The young man had dark hair and wore round glasses. With the dark blue sweater and the jeans he gave off the youthful vibe of a university student. He was very handsome and your face burnt.

Junhee.

[otp-holic]

Stucky Week: 21st Century

A Fanfic + Pics inside for @stucky-week

Nothing is scarier than posting writing, TBH. It's already in my AO3 where i will probably edit it to death. As I do.

Thank you @moonykat because the anger at all the Bucky!erasing yesterday was the seed for this. And sorry, too because I wish I could do better, haha.

A COUPLE OF KIDS FROM BROOKLYN

Bucky comes back home after a few days out on a mission and finds Steve in the middle of a research of its own.

PG. Established relationship, fluff, lots of books, 1ks

When Bucky opens the door after four days of helping Sam out with some crisis in Portugal, he has to do a double check because he doesn’t remember their living room being a library when he left.

There are books, comics, and notebooks everywhere: Floor, table, countertops, over the couch… and upon a closer look they are not just random books. They are all books about Captain America. And no sign of Steve… This doesn’t look promising.

“Steve?” he asks as he takes off his jacket.

“Buck, you are home!”

The voice from the bedroom is clearly happy Bucky is back and, yes, a second later a smiling Steve Rogers comes into view and walks towards him dodging all the books on the floor: crazy hair, un-showered, and very very gullible.

“I missed you,” he says, planting a kiss on his lips and hugging him tightly. God, he’s such a sap but he missed him, too.

“Mmm… Steve,” he ventures as he untangles himself from the hug. “Care to explain…. this?”

Steves looks behind himself and onto the floor and his expression changes into a frown.

“Buck, what year is it? Are we really in the 21st century?” Bucky panics and instinctively takes his hands to Steve’s head, searching for any indication of a concussion.

“What…”

“No, Bucky, I’m ok, it was an hypothetical! But hear me out!” he talks with passion and anger, so whatever it is, it is important. This was not the welcome Bucky was expecting.

He walks towards the piles of books and takes a couple of them with him.

“Don’t know how it started… but I was bored and I’ve been doing a little research.”

Bucky takes one of the books Steve is handing him “Man of Many times: Updating Steve Rogers”, the title says.

“Research… on yourself.” Bucky has so many puns that he has to bite his tongue. “Didn’t know you got so lonely without…”

“Leave the masturbation jokes for later, this is important!”

He takes a stall from the kitchen and sits down on it, putting the book on the counter right by another one called “Steve Rogers: The Official Biography. 1982”. They are really everywhere.

“You’ve got not only my whole attention but also the best part of my curiosity.”

“Do you know how many books about me there are? No, don’t answer, I will tell you because I know now! There are at least three biographies published every decade, plus comics, cards, books on tactics, about my fucking body changes, official thesis, scientific articles, and everything translated into different languages!” Bucky is impressed. “A little digging on Wikipedia and Amazon… and I concluded there are about 594 books. About me. Every fucking aspect of me.”

He stops for a moment to take a breath and Bucky stays there looking at him and experiencing all kinds of emotions. Passionate and almost enraged Steve is an instant turn-on, but he’s also pretty intrigued about where all this is going. He honestly has no clue.

“Please, please go on before I start with the narcissistic and masturbatory jokes again. I beg you.”

“Buck!” He is full-on outraged now. “There are almost six hundred books about me… some of them apparently “official”, and I haven’t been able to find a single one that dares to hint or even question the nature of our relationship.”

There’s a two-second silence while the gears inside Bucky’s brain start processing the turn of the conversation. Faulty.

“So, you are all worked up because the world doesn’t have a clue that we do the wild thing between the sheets?”

Bucky knows he’s said the wrong thing when the hurt reaches Steve’s eyes in an instant, and he wants to punch himself for trying to release some tension at the worst moment.

“That we’ve been together since the ‘30s, you heartless punk. That we are fucking married, Bucky. That you would have married me at 16 if that would have been an option. And this is the 21st century, somebody should have at least made a book chapter or a fucking thesis just maybe raiding the question. I had to go into some obscure corner of the internet to find a single post from 2014 wondering if there was something hidden between us.” He stops and laughs a bit. “I almost wrote back with a thank you message!”

“I understand. I really do, and I’m sorry about my response just now, I didn’t mean to downplay you, just… ”

Steve briefly touches his face in reassurance as he leans on the counter and starts talking again. Calmer now.

“There is a Collector’s Captain America Encyclopedia that just came last year to cover all my… career as Cap,” he keeps looking at Bucky straight in the eyes, this is clearly what sparked it all. “It is 10 fucking volumes long, and I went to the “B” I couldn’t believe the entries for ‘Battle’, ‘Brooklyn’ and even ‘Banner’ were longer than the one for ‘Barnes’, and… Let me show you something.”

He walks towards the couch, retrieves a book, and comes back to hand him Collector’s Captain America Encyclopedia: Volume 3.

“Page 159, it has a marker,” Steve says.

He uses the little yellow marker to see the page and suddenly he’s angry and a little sad, too.

It’s the entry for “Bucky” and it says: “Bucky: see ‘Barnes’”. And that's it.

The silence is heavy where it was light before, and Steve takes the book out of his hands and comes closer placing his forehand on Bucky’s.

“I cannot let history erase you, Buck. Not as a whole and especially not from my story. None of it makes sense without you, so it’s either nobody or both of us there, pal. And, spoiler alert, but it might be a little too late to take me out of it.”

Steve looks for approval on his face by taking a step back and Bucky nods to whatever it is Steve has on his mind because how could he say no?

“I should have never married an international superhero whose tour de force spans more than seventy years.” Steve laughs. They are back to relaxed now. “Now, out with it Rogers,... I know you have a play-by-play plan for what to do next.”

Steve escapes to the living room and starts piling up books to make room on the couch, not answering Bucky’s question. Bucky can see a mischievous smile even with his back to him.

“We are writing our own book. Well, you are writing, since the Smithsonian got it right about your excellence in the classroom even if they missed on your birthday.” He says and he is glowing. “I might just bother you with important facts, deadlines, and little drawings.”

Bucky is speechless again. And tired. And he knows he is going to say yes, so why bother arguing?

He decides to just give up instead, and walks towards Steve, pushing him onto the couch and, after removing “Steve Rogers’ Lovers: An Unofficial Biography of Caps’ Love affairs” from under his elbow and throwing it towards the kitchen, cuddling him.

“I bet you picked the title already.” He says closing his eyes and taking a deep breath full of Steve.

“Yes, but I’m not telling you just yet,” Steve answers as he kisses his forehead. And Bucky doesn’t care, he can wait.

[mandoalorian]

Hello I really love that one about Javi being scared about something happening to reader, it's so soft. What do you think about reader being kidnapped by the capo and Javier and the whole DEA trying to rescue her. THANK YOU 🥰

Birthday Bloodbath [Javier Pena x Reader]

Read part one here!

Read part three here!

Warnings: if you have any experience with kidnapping this is not the fic for you! I tried to make all descriptions as vague and go over the actual hostage part as quickly as possible but I wouldn't recommend you read something like this if you think it might trigger you. also food mentions, alcohol mentions, cursing, mention of blood, gore, injury, and death, intruders, drugs and drug cartels (other narcos related themes) very very scary situations.

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3k

Authors note: thank you for the request! I'm so glad you liked the first part enough to want a follow-up. I must admit, I did struggle with writing this as I'm not familiar with writing situations like this … but I was in my element writing the fluff at the start!!! I hope you enjoy. 

Masterlist • submit requests 

This was never supposed to happen. You had sworn to Javier that you'd get through this together. Javier had been foolish for believing the Capo and his cartel would have left you alone; and risk their entire distribution. Javier Peña was one of the agents who took down Pablo Escobar; and he was a force that shouldn't be reckoned with. Cartels all across South America knew of him and knew to be aware of him. The Capo wanted a bullet in his brain, but he knew that getting close to someone like Javier wouldn't be easy.

Since Escobar, Javier had gotten a brilliant promotion. He now has his own team behind him, not to mention his own security who would follow him around on his endeavours. It really helped ease Javier's anxiety, knowing that he had people on constant watch who would protect him, but more importantly, would protect you.

You didn't like it; all the fancy security following your every move. You'd visit the launderette just a few blocks away, and they'd follow your every move. But there was nothing you could do about it. They were under firm instruction by Javier, and there was nothing you could do that would change Javier's mind. He needed to know that you were protected.

However, on the day of Javier's birthday, things changed. Javier headed to work early that morning, claiming he could get his papers signed quickly and be home by around 4pm, having the whole evening and night to celebrate with him.

It wasn't often you got to spend time with Javier and since it was such a special occasion, you wanted to make it special. You had been planning for his birthday weeks in advance. Javi wasn't one for parties, and he had planned travelling back to Texas in a fortnight to see his family. It would be your first chance at meeting them. He told you over and over again, no parties. He just wanted a special night in the apartment with you.

But you had to surprise your boyfriend in some way. You had called up his old partner and one of his best friends, Steve Murphy and invited him over for the weekend. You knew Javi would love a few beers and a catch-up with Steve. Steve had called you yesterday morning and told you he had just arrived in Colombia. He was going to surprise Javier in work, on his birthday. You knew that, by now, Javi and Steve were probably together in the office, bickering like they used to. You just wished you could've seen the smile on Javier's face when Steve surprised him.

The beaming rays of sunlight woke you up later than expected. You found yourself wearing Javier's pink button down shirt, and a smile spread across your lips as you reminiced on the amazing night you had before. Ever since the incident with the capo, and Javi's injury, Javier has struggled to cope with it. He had gotten better at talking about his feelings, but it did initiate a certain trauma within him. You were, however, seeing improvements in his nature. Things were finally looking up for both of you.

Your smile grew when you picked up on the infused scent of laundry detergent and cigarettes. You'd much rather be in Javier's arms right now, but wearing his shirt was the next best thing. Merrily, you slipped into the kitchen, the hem of his shirt grazing your thighs. You checked the time on your wrist watch; it was 8:40am. Your security would arrive at your flat at 9am prompt. You poured out three glasses of orange juice for them and put on your favourite record. You decided on skipping breakfast, because you had a feast planned for Javier's birthday dinner. His favourite food was from this local Chinese take-out and you had arranged all his favourite dishes to be delivered to your house.

You didn't plan on leaving the house today, except to go to the bakery to pick up his birthday cake. You walked over to the closet to grab your balloons and streamers. You were going to wait until security arrived so they could help you decorate the house but you decided there was no harm in getting a head start.

Head deep into the closet, you swore you heard your front door open. You brushed it off, thinking you had probably just nudged something on one of the shelves. You clambered out of the small cupboard, hands full of decorations, and went to carry them into the kitchen. Just before you got there, you heard a glass clink against the counter. You thought it was weird, but maybe it was just security. Maybe they had arrived early and were helping themselves to the orange juice you had prepared. 

"Okay boys!" you shouted, juggling packets of balloons, banners, confetti, and streamers in your arms, being careful that nothing dropped to the floor. "We have a lot to do today. As you know, it's Javi's birthday and so-" you froze when your eyes locked onto the three men standing in your apartment.

They weren't your security, but they sure as hell had drunk your orange juice. Stood before you were three men, clad in military print overalls and gold chains. "Uhm…" you stumbled backwards slightly, dropping most of the decorations in your arms. "Can I help you?" you asked. You peered behind the three men and noticed the lock on the door had snapped off. These men were intruders.

The man in the centre, had jet black curly hair and he shot you a hungry smile. He stepped forward, caressing your arm and his smile only grew when you shivered under his touch.

"Who are you?" you spat when no one responded to you. "Why are you here?" 

"She's such a pretty little thing, isn't she?" one of the men purred, while the other nodded his head in silent agreement.

"Whatever you want… money? I can get you it just- please don't do anything stupid." you tried negotiating, something Javier had always taught you to do if you had ever found yourself in a situation such as this one.

The capo grabbed your throat with a sudden force and you let out a yelp. He pushed your chin up with his two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. "We were looking for agent Peña," the capo explained, a glint in his eyes. "But I think you might be the next best thing." he smirked, pushing you down to your knees.

You landed on the oak wood floor with a thud. "Tie her up." the capo commanded; and his two sicarios obediently followed his instruction, taking thick piece of rope and tying it around your wrists. You could feel it begin to graze and cut at your skin as you tried to escape from their firm grip.

"My boyfriend- if you don't let me go he'll kill you when he finds out about this. You don't want to get personal with Javier, I'm warning you." you said through tear filled eyes and gritted teeth.

"Actually, agent Peña got personal with us first, when he tried and failed going undercover to our headquarters. He thought we wouldn't catch on," the capo laughed. "He promised us he'd keep his mouth shut and we'd let him walk three. But we followed him home. We've been tracking your phone calls with him for months now. We know he lied to us. We know he's been seeing a therapist about what happened. We have cameras deployed out in the street… watching your every move. Looking into your windows…"

One of the sicarios nodded his head and took a swing of the orange juice. "Ooh sir, you should've seen her and agent Peña last night. I got it recorded-"

"What the fuck? You sick pervert!" You screamed, trying to scramble to your feet. It was no use. The capo kicked his foot into your back and you fell back down on your face. You groaned, trying to catch your balance when you felt something salty drip into your mouth. It was blood. Your nose was bleeding.

"Listen, if you just play along to with our little game, everything will be okay. Except for agent Peña of course… but you know, you still have a chance of making it out here alive!" the capo cackled, hysteria dripping from his tongue. "So when will your dashing DEA agent be home?" 

You shook your head, refusing to answer. Javier wouldn't be home for hours. Fuck, you really didn't know what to do. "My security will beat the shit out of you." you snarled, but felt so defeated knowing your threats were empty.

The capo let out another laugh. "Aw, she must think the security that we annihilated in the corridor would return from the dead to protect her?"

"Holy shit, you killed them?" you hissed in disbelief.

One of the sicarios held out a knife, stained deep in blood. He held it to your neck, wiping the blood of your security on your skin. You were out of options. You were so afraid. 

***

"Noonan still an ass?" Steve chuckled, lighting Javier's cigarette. Javi took a puff and nodded his head.

"Yeah, but she has her moments," Javier shrugged. "She's letting me get off work early today."

"Birthday privilege?" Steve pointed out and Javier nodded his head in agreement.

"It's been so good to see you, but I gotta head home to see my girl." Javier smirked and Steve wolf whistled.

"Yeah? How's she doing by the way?" Steve asked and Javier felt a blush creep upon his cheeks at the mere thought of you.

"She's good, she's good." Javier grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Never in a million years did I think my friend Javier Peña would actually settle down," Steve laughed and Javier nudged his arm playfully. "I owe Connie twenty bucks!" 

Javier rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette. "Come over later for a few drinks, yeah?" Javier pulled Steve in for a long awaited hug.

"I'd like that bud, I'll bring the beers." Steve replied and offered Javier a comforting pat on the back. "I'll see you later."

On the drive home, Javier completely forgot it was his birthday. His mind was just consumed with you— the love of his life. You were the only person who looked after him, cared for him, and were constantly at his beck and call. He chastised you for it and he told you that you did too much for him, but your compassionate nature truly meant so much to him.

After an amazing night with you, he couldn't wait to surprise you at home. He couldn't wait to pick you up and hold you in his arms. It was still morning, so it meant he could spend the whole day with you.

His excitement was cut short when he pulled up into the driveway of his apartment complex. He saw three black vans with tinted windows, and recognised them from his encounter with the drug cartel months ago. A knot tightened in his throat. Quietly, he hopped out of his own truck and entered his building. Making his way through the maze of hallways, his heart dropped when he found his three security guards lying dead against the walls outside his home, their blood soaking through the carpet.

Javier's instincts were to bolt inside your shared apartment and rescue you. He knew for a fact you were in danger— that they were in there, holding you hostage. But he had to think logically. They wanted Javi dead, and he didn't know what the numbers would be like.

Javier backed off down the corridor and took out his cell phone. "Hey Steve? Are you still at the Embassy? I think the cartel has y/n. I need your help. And call for the other agents; we need serious backup!" Javier explained a thorough plan to Steve on the phone, who promised Javier he'd be there within minutes. And Steve Murphy always kept his words.

While Javier waited, he looted the bodies of his security for any weapons they had possessed. He hid a gun under his pants and slid a knife into his pocket. When he saw Steve at the front gate, pulling up with a van filled with fellow agents, he offered him a nod of acknowledgement. This was where Javier's plan started. He was going in.

Javier had decided to play it cool and pretend like he didn't have his whole team behind him. He opened the unlocked front door yelling an unfamiliar "honey I'm home!". Javier never said anything like this and so he hoped, by hearing this, you would catch on that he had it covered.

His heart was racing in his chest when he caught a glimpse of you, tied to a chair wearing only his shirt. You had silver electrical tape around your mouth and blood that Javi prayed wasn't yours. Your eyes were puffy from your tears and fear prevailed through them. He muttered your name and hurried to your side, falling to his knees and taking out the knife from his pocket.

"You're okay baby, you're okay I'm here. I've got you." Your whimpers broke his heart. He sliced open the rope, releasing your hands. "How many are there?" he whispered into your ear. You managed to hold up three fingers and Javier gulped, starting to unbind your ankles when he felt a gun press in between his shoulder blades.

Javier removed his hands from you and raised them in a surrender position above his own head. Javier stood up straight and turned around to face the capo, gun now pointing into his chest. He recognised the two sicarios behind him from last time.

"Whatever you need, I can get for you." Javier promised, lowering his hand to the barrel of the gun and cautiously pushing it away from him. "I have money."

"What we needed was your silence… your honesty, agent Peña. And we needed that about three months ago."

"I didn't say shit to the DEA," Javier spat angrily.

"But you told her, didn't you?" the capo pointed his gun at you and you let out another frightened whimper, closing your eyes, petrified.

"You shoot either of us? It's life in prison. Your whole cartel goes bust. Don't make a mistake here." Javier just needed to buy a little more time….

"She told me it was your birthday," the capo chuckled. "How ironic. You were born today, you die today."

Just then, your front door burst off the hinges as Steve Murphy and an army of about 20 agents bolted through the tiny apartment, immediately shooting down the two sicarios and Steve held a gun to the capo's head. You could hear police and ambulance sirens outside as tears began to stream down your face. Your hope was cut short when the capo fired his gun.

You screamed as the pressure from the bullet knocked you off your chair and two the ground. He had shot right in your chest, just next to your collarbone. The pain was blinding and you curled your fingers into a fist. Another gunshot; and Steve had shot the capo down. Javier screamed your name and ran to your side, cradling you in his arms. He gently ripped the tape off your mouth and freed your ankles. 

"I've got you baby, hey stay with me. I've got you." he whispered, nursing you in his arms.

"Javi," you choked out, wincing in pain.

"Can someone get me a flannel and there's a first aid kit under the bathroom sink!" Javier cried out, his voice hoarse as his red hot blood coursed through his veins. "Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me. There's an ambulance outside. There'll be up here any minute."

"Javi… I love you so much." you sobbed. The pain was becoming unbearable and your eyes fluttered shut.

Javi cupped your cheek as one of the agents passed him a flannel and the med kit. He began to apply pressure to your wound. "Stay with me, stay with me angel. I love you."

Your breathing began to hitch and Javier was so afraid he was going to lose you for good. He was going to lose the love of his life. If anyone was meant to be shot, it should've been him. He cursed himself. It should've fucking been him.

Paramedics raced over to you and pulled Javier back. "Be careful with her." Javier exhaled, his hands shaking as Steve steadied him.

"She's going to be okay." Steve reassured his friends. "She's in good hands."

Permanent taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!):  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic

"This is all my fucking fault Steve." Javier cried, falling to his knees as his heart shattered into a million pieces. "This is all my fault."

NEXT PART

[damselofblueroses]

The Children of Paradise

Summary: Set three years after the Rumbling, a young captain of Paradise Island, Anna Doukaina suddenly learned that her husband alive during the Paradisian Revolution.

Chapter Summary: After one month that Anna spent in the Doukaina's (Levi's Tea Shop) she was more than ready to explode. One day she decided to visit the Library and she had to face a couple of realities which she had no idea. This chapter contains a temporary health issue, if you can be negatively triggered by fainting, becoming numb or the loss of conscious please do not continue :)

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS AND ESPECIALLY CHAPTER 139, Descriptions of Depression and Grief, Mentions of Death, Emotional Hurt. Progress of the fiction contains nsfw / Smut, minors please do not.

Note: The idea of Paradisian Revolution and the transformation of Historia Reiss are the offspring of my imagination, I would like to think about how would Levi’s aftermath of the Rumbling be in my head after I read chapter 139 :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Two: the Ouroboros

“Mrs. Ackerman?” I heard the voice of little kid, Sofia and turned to the source of voice. She was jumping to me by holding a bunch of daisies and dandelions. “Paul told me to give you these flowers.”

I kneeled down to blond girl who was always so lovely, her brown eyes were shining, and her checks were flushing with pink. I patted her head then gave her a piece of chocolate.

“Thank you very much, Sofia. When you and Paul visit me again?”

“We will come in the afternoon, Mrs. Ackerman.” she danced around me. “Gabi and Falco said that they will take us from school today and we can assist them in order to run the café.”

“You are a good girl, you know that.” I smiled. She could be my child. “But do you remember what I asked? Do not call me Mrs. Ackerman, I prefer to be called as Anna but if you want to call me with a surname, call me as Doukaina.”

“I cannot do that!” her eyes instantly became wider, stopped leaping around me like a cannibal. “We are told that we always have to call you by Mr. Ackerman’s name.”

“Who told you this?” I could feel my hands automatically turned into fists.

“Mr. Ackerman.” she was too naïve. “He is very serious, and also Paul strongly advises me to not cause Mr. Ackerman’s anger.”

“Yeah.” I murmured to little girl. “He is a short-tempered man. Anyway, Sofia, call me Anna whenever you will feel more relaxed, okey?”

Her face was telling me that she never would dare to go against Mr. Ackerman’s orders, but I did not say anything on the issue. Instead, I talked with her nonchalantly, made her more excited for the afternoon we were going to share then accompanied her till her house where was two apartments away from Doukaina’s.

Yes.

That bastard dared to name his fucking café after my name.

After leaving Sofia to her house, I came back to the café and tethering my teeth to the name. I was storming to the upstairs.

In the last one month, which I spent by refusing to talk with that motherfucker instead of expressing my thoughts on divorce and grunting a lot, I had a first-handed report on how much that bastard continued on his life without me.

I was in everywhere and nowhere.

The café had been under the Rules of Doukaina that Onyankopon had a civilized conversation with me after that bastard literally seized me in his home. He explained the rules while he was hoping that it would be a catalyser for me to calm down, nope, but I just listened to him without showing an expression. Basically, the rules included what I would like or not, and Captain Ackerman decided to run his own business by accepting my tastes as the standards.

His strategy works very well, Onyankopon shamelessly says.

What the heck I was, his strategy? His experimental rat?

I was fuming after that conversation, but I could manage to hold my anger and pain inside of me. Instead, I remained silent, ignored him when he came back to home, I refused to have dinner with him, I rejected every kind of proposes from him.

After Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco came to me.

Their visits were always hard because of two reasons.

Falco was a sweetheart; I could not refuse his kindness and Gabi had no idea on giving up even if when the occasion called for it. And trust me, my mental and emotional situations definitely called for silence, but Gabi did not get any signals. She told me a lot of stories on a vast range, starting from how horrible Mr. Ackerman was to how much he had been getting through.

Their visits always rip a brick off my invisible wall against him.

When I stayed by myself, and I generally chose to be alone, I realized the real reason of my presence here. It was the most painful part, I could not leave but it was not because of Levi had captured me against my will, I could not find the power of leaving him even though I have already refused even wishing a good day to him.

I cannot leave him, if I will set my foot on my way back to Paradise, I know that I cannot survive this time.

Everything I said, everything I had been doing did not mean a single thing. I was aware of my love to him, although I was broken into pieces because of him.

In this one month, every day I could see his face. Grumpy, unhappy, full of scars, deeply wounded, not like Captain Levi Ackerman who I knew in the past.

But, to my dismay I always loved Levi Ackerman, not the humanity’s strongest, not that legendary and reluctant hero.

I loved that fucking surly, petulant, grouchy, peeved, easily pissed off, clean freak, bossy, dominant and bad-mouthed Levi Ackerman who was always on my side. I loved that shorty who was reliable, extremely strong, capable of many things, careful, kind when the occasion calls for it and very clever.

He was my partner on the battlefield, my friend in the Headquarters, my lover in our tiny place.

Bearing witness of our separated 3 years did not help me to keep my anger against him, however, I had been trained by someone who was famous to hold grudges and has a small piece of forgiveness in the heart.

I was not only Levi’s but also Levi’s sculpture. He craved me with his heart and mind during the years of my training and beyond. Even our marriage bed was a training field.

Oh Jesus, when I remembered that night, a sudden flush attacked to my face, I could feel the heat on my cheeks.

I vividly remember Levi’s voice when he was praising me for being the best one for him although I was inexperienced till that night.

Can you stop remembering unnecessary memories?!

No.

I grunted to my useless brain and moved out of my tiny room. Levi gave me a room in his place when I refused to be in the same area with him. What a gentleman!

He knows you cannot afford a house, and he would kill someone instead of letting go to a hotel. He wants to keep you in front of his eyes, you were absent for a long time, Onyankopon said to me. He always believes he never see you again but all of a sudden you appeared.

If he wanted to keep me with him, why he did not come to fetch me after war, I asked to Onyankopon. He half smiled to me and told me this is a question to be asked to Levi himself. Only he could give me an answer, Onyankopon did not want to interfere our personal lives at this level.

Well, I guessed he interfered a lot but still I did not force him to tell me.

Levi’s flat was the second floor of his café, so I came down of the stairs in order to get fresh air. Levi was working behind Doukaina’s counter, he was dealing with bunch of customers whose I was getting familiar with some of them. When they saw me, they greeted me with their heads, I reciprocated by denying Levi’s strong presence. His eyes were piercing my back, I could feel it, but I refused to take a look back, I grab my coat and bag, then I stepped out of Doukaina’s.

He named his fucking café after me, how should I feel about this? Proud? No fucking way, every time I looked at this name, I lost my nuts.

He managed to be happy without me but living with my shadow. How could I forgive this?

I took a deep breath and started to walk on the street. My foot knew the way, the direction. I was heading to the library. To be honest, I was really so bored because of sitting on my back, it was not something I was familiar with. I had to keep myself busy, and I had to figure a way out in order to be back to Paradise.

With or without Levi.

After one month, observing him without talking, taught me that I could not be that cold-hearted bitch even if I desperately wanted to be. I could not tear him off his life, there was no possible option to try. He built a life for himself, Gabi and Falco, and Onyankopon.

How could I be so heartless taking them into our hell again?

They sacrificed a lot.

Sometimes I looked at Levi and I saw a middle-aged man who spent his life on battlefields, who lost everyone dear to him. His scars telling me how bad he hurt, sometimes he had been making a low-pitched grunt because of pain caused by his leg. He kept working on, but I could easily tell how much physical pain he was in. Falco secretly told me he was seeing a doctor, however there was no treatment to cure his wounded muscles.

And his eye.

I could not forget about his gleamy, metallic grey eyes and piercing look he could give with them. Now, he lost one of them, all the scars on his face, I bet my life on he felt like he was a beast.

Well, he was always a beast but a handsome beast.

Now, I could bet even my life on he felt like cannot be loved because he was no longer the humanity’s strongest, he was no longer Captain Levi Ackerman.

He was only Levi from Doukaina’s, the owner of a little tea shop, a semi-quasi father for a Marleyan kiddo gang.

How can you explain that to Armin? He believes you are trying to persuade Levi to comeback.

I have zero fucks to give the Revolution.

I was in a really darker mood when I reached to the library. The familiar scent of books got my senses immediately and eased my temper.

“Hello, Ms.” I heard the lady at the desk. “How can I help you?”

“Hello. I want to renew my membership to library.” I took my old card out of my purse. “Actually, I was a member, but it has been too long, so I do not know if I have to get a new card.”

“Let me see.” she reached to my membership card, and she gasped. “Miss Doukaina? Is that you?”

“Um, yeah?” I was confused because of her reaction. “Is that something wrong?”

“No!” she yelled and realized where we were and pressed her hand into her mouth. “I am sorry, but we have heard a lot about you. The headmaster will be extremely happy to see you again!”

“Is Angelo still here?” I proclaimed. “Really?”

“Yes, he did not retire yet.” she beamed. “Let me call him, or do you prefer to visit him by yourself?”

“I can go to his office.” I grinned like a Cheshire cat for this unexpected piece of news. “If you allow me, of course.”

“Be my guest.” she looked like I was a very good present and she definitely looked like she wanted to tell me something. I raised one of my eyebrows to push her, she could not hold it back anymore. “Forgive my boldness but I really admire your works!”

“Thank you.” I was surprised but I had to admit that I liked her boldness. I always liked to hear someone liked the works of my brain, it really meant a lot after killing titans and people like an endless string. I did not wish to be praised because of being a good fighter but hearing a praise because of being a good student or librarian was something else. “I am glad to hear that, I did not know they still have my work.”

“Your books are highly demanded both from colleges and individuals.” she smiled like a freak. I easily recognized the pattern of being a fan of someone, her face reminded me my face when I was trained by Levi. I know these shiny eyes, this excitement, this admiration. “I never think I could see you in person.”

“Maria,” another teenager appeared from the door behind of desk. “Headmaster calls for yo- Oh. I am sorry I did not see you Ms.”

“Fred,” she exhaled. “Do you know who is she? She is Miss Anna Doukaina!”

“What?” the young boy’s face went into blank he was literally frozen. “Who?”

“Anna Doukaina!” Maria repeated. “She came back!”

“A-An-,” Fred shuttered. “You must be kidding me; everyone knows she lives in Paradise!”

“Well, you are right.” I interrupted. “I am currently visiting Marley since there is no restriction on visiting people.”

“Yeah. You. Anna. Wow. Doukaina. You are right.” Fred’s eyes became widest, for a second, I thought he could manage to gauge them out only by looking at me. “Wow. Anna Doukaina is here.”

“What Fred means,” Maria stood up by giving her colleague criticizing look. “We do not expect to see you in Marley again after the speculations.”

“Speculations?” I cocked my eyebrow again. “What kind of speculations if I may ask?”

“Well, your husband lives in Marley without you, right? Both of you are famous names, he was a hero amongst people, you were named as a genius and people talks.” She at least managed to seem as embarrassed, but I could see the curiosity burned in her eyes. “You got your degree from Academia while your husband opened a café in the capital, but no one saw you guys together. Everyone believed that you guys divorced, after you went back to Paradise, most of us thought that you would not be back.”

“Holy shit.” I could not hold it. “I did not know we were a material for gossip.”

“You were topic number 1, actually.” Fred spilled the beans. “Especially when you refused to see Mr. Ackerman, a lot of husbands were condemning you.”

“What?”

“When you refused to see Mr. Ackerman,” Fred repeated himself like he was talking something quite natural. “A lo-

“Could you give me a moment, please?” I raised my hand.

“Are you okey?” Maria reached to me with a genuine worry.

“I am fine, thank you.” I replied but I could feel the panic attacks on the way, my breathing was becoming heavier, and my heart was pounding too fast. Bad combination.

“Fetch me a glass of water.” I heard another voice while the room is really starting to spin around me. “Quickly!”

A voice that was familiar to give orders.

A voice that was extremely grumpy but always managed to give me thrills.

The room was becoming darker, I knew that I was losing my sight and conscious for the first time in the last 5 years. Strong, muscled arms held me between their protection, before I fainted, I knew who was holding me.

Levi.

Levi Ackerman, an hour ago

“Oi, brat!” I looked at Falco, he was breathing too fast, and his face was totally red when he made an entrance to Doukaina’s. And his shoes are dirty, fucking hell. “What happened?”

“Mrs. Ackerman!” he yelled. “She is going to the library!”

“Shit.” I hissed between my teeth. Fucking woman. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Gabi saw her on the road. Does she know these people’s thoughts on her?”

“Of course not.” I untied my apron and throw it to Falco. “You are on charge, handle the rest.”

I did not waste a second, rushed to the road. I was definitely fuming, she did not know a single thing about the gossips on our not-so-well relationship, but for a while we were a quite popular topic for every living creature of Marley.

She does not know the curses of patriarchal system of Marleyan society about her, she does not know they label her as the cold-hearted bitch of Paradise.

She had been acting as a tough nut but there was a very fragile little girl inside of her heart, I knew it very well. If she were going to learn those gossips, she would be broken deeply. Even though, she has been ignoring me, I was aware of her true feelings, she did never want to be apart from me.

That’s why she could not forgive me, but she stayed with me.

I never want her to get caught up my mess, and I knew she would fight for me for her dear life, so I thought the only way was leave her to believe that I was dead. It would be better if she were not around me, but the only way to make it possible was building a barrier between us. There was no need for her to learn how many days I spent just missing her, just longing for her, hating myself so bad for letting her to go.

Yet, even with my rightful excuses and reasons, I deeply acknowledged the dire need of apologizing her over and over, begging for her forgiveness which I barely contained inside of myself.

Not seeing her around me was a hell of journey.

But seeing her around me was the worst scenario one could imagine, and I was being caught in really horrible situations since I was a boy in Underground.

She was my devoted girl, in terms of Hange’s very obvious language. She dedicated all of her to me with an incredible fidelity. When we were tying the bow, before the ceremony, before she vowed as my wedded wife, she was already the bone of my bone, the blood of my blood.

“Fucking hell.” I buzzed at my goddamn leg while I was walking to the library. It was making me slower, I hated being unable to do what I want as physically.

If I could have my body and strength as usual, the only thing I would do was taking her into my arms and having her over and over again like a fucking ouroboros.

I cursed behind my mouth and tried to walk faster. I had to catch that idiot before she was getting in touch with those poisonous vipers. However, I had to admit that what made me obnoxious more than I supposed to be not only those vipers, but also my unconscious contribution to that fucking cauldron of gossip. While I was keeping myself as invisible from her eyes when she was having an education here, I did not think of the things people could figure it out. They learned about Paradise, they learned about us, they talked about us, and everything was combined with each other.

In the end, she was labelled as an ungrateful bitch, and I was upgraded to faithful husband. I could not fix anything since I was bloody busy on hiding but hearing those comments about her fed me with pain.

She can be anything but being an ungrateful one? Do not make me laugh.

When I reached to destination, I quickly prayed for anything which could help me. I dearly hoped for she was not having any undesirable piece of information; I directly went into the entrance.

Godfuckingdamnit, she heard.

That was the first thing came to my mind when I saw her posture. Her shoulders were fallen down, her hands were shaking, and her face was nothing but full of agony. There were a couple around her, a boy and girl, they were trying to ask her if she was okey or not.

Do you think she is okey, you motherfuckers?

“Fetch me a glass of water!” I howled to them and attempted to catch Anna. “Quickly!”

Her body replied to my body immediately, fucking hell, her tensed muscled became a little bit softer when I grasped her between my arms. She was getting numb; her knees were twisting.

We had been here before.

Last time she fainted on me; we were butchering a bunch of titans.

I wonder if she carries the ODM scars still on her waist…

Is there anyone sees those little strings after me?

What the fuck I am thinking?

“Do not fucking dare to faint on me again.” I grunted but I held her as tight as I could dare of. She belongs to me, she is my bloody wife, damnit. “Keep calm and take deep breathes.”

“I am not going to faint.” she whispered, her voice was really weak, but I could hear her in every situation. Holy shit, I heard her voice when she fallen into a shitshow of titans and covered by her own blood during the clash of battlefield sounds!

We shared too many things.

“Yes, last time you said you were not going to faint, I had to carry you back to headquarters.”

“You were happy, weren’t you?” she mumbled. “I gave you the change of touching my body.”

“Hella, if I wanted to touch you, I would do before you found yourself between a titan sandwich.”

“Only in your dreams.” she said but her voice was getting weakest. I knew she was going to faint before the water, she closed her eyes, her hand dropped to the ground then the boy turned from the corner.

“Where did you get the water?” I yelled. “From Paradise?”

“I am sorry, Mr. Ackerman.” he shuttered. “There is a line in front of automatons.”

“Put that glass.” I turned to the girl. “I have only two questions to both of you. What did you say to her, and do you have something like cologne?”

“I have cologne!” the boy rushed to the back of counter desk. He left his colleague to my definitely dreadful gaze, what a companion, the girl started to slightly shake. I just looked at her by cocking my eyebrow.

“What did you say to her?”

“We did not sa-

“She fainted, let’s give up on acting and tell me what she learned from you enough to make her to lose her conscious. Before I am going to get angry.”

“She told her about the gossips.” I heard the boy’s little squeaks. “She left you, didn’t she?”

“As I thought.” I mumbled and stood up by carrying Anna’s body. “How much you told her? Tell me the whole story.”

“I swear I just talked about the speculations!” the girl angrily looked at the boy. “He told about Mrs. Ackerman’s refusal to see and its impacts on communi-

“How much you said?” I walked into the bench. “How much?”

“Just refusal!” he really screamed; his face was completely whitened. “I did not tell anything about her nickname, cold-hearted bitch!”

“If you will use that nickname again, you will not have a tongue to speak again.” I pressed on every letter of the sentence. “Tell this to everyone you know, if I hear a single word against my wife, you can be sure of I am capable of slicing living creatures like you can slice a bread.”

“O-okey!”

“Now, hold the door for us.” I turned to the main doors and walked out of the building by carrying Anna.

Carrying Anna?

What?

Anna Doukaina, after 4 hours

I woke up with a terrible headache.

Let me rephrase. I woke up because of a terrible headache.

“Here.” I heard a grumpy voice and a hand without two fingers came into my sight. “Swallow.”

I tried to move but his hand pressed me on the soft layer, a bed I guess, again.

“Feel free to lie down there. You have to rest according to the orders of doctor, so no sudden movements but you will spend a day here.”

Why a doctor came to see me?

My mind was foggy, slow to recall the last memories I had, however while I was having the pills that Levi gave me, I remembered the very last moments before I lost my conscious.

I was fainted.

Okey.

I was fainted on Levi.

Damnit.

I was fainted on Levi after I asked him if he was happy with me or not.

Godfuckingdamnit.

My mind corporate with me in the worst way I could imagine of. Those words of two receptionist, labelling me as an ungrateful wife, careless woman who did not consider her beloved one reminded me everything.

“I cannot open my eyes.” I lied to him. I know Levi is here and I am sure he did not leave me for a second, he waited me to open my eyes. I do not want to see him. “But I am pretty well, so you can go back to work.”

“I do not want to.” he plainly answered. “I will stay, and I know you can open your eyes if you want. But I respect your decision to keep them closed. I am not someone who is worth to look.”

“What?” I fell on his bloody trap and immediately looked at him.

“Oi.” he smirked. Smirk? “It is good to see you are awake.”

“How many minutes I was unconscious?” I asked but I could feel all the heat of embarrassment as I hopelessly tried to change the subject. This is why I hate being with Levi, I become a stupid, lovesick girl!

“Almost 4 hours passed after you fainted on me.” he seemed nonchalant as he informed me; my chin was dropped. 4 hours?! “I have to say, I am impressed. The last time you were fainted for almost half an hour.”

“It was not the last time.” I could not catch what I said, then I pressed my hand onto my mouth, but it was fucking too late. Levi’s eyebrows furrowed and he gazed at me while he was trying to figure what I meant.

“I will not force you to tell me,” he murmured, and he took my hand off my mouth. You are damn close, Ackerman! “But I really appreciate if you can share when you were fainted after that incident.”

“When I heard about the explosion.” I replied. I was too tired of being hiding from Levi. “I thought you were dead.”

Levi did not answer to me, instead of words, he was using his goddamn eyes. I always believed his eyes could see my heart and soul, even the deeps that I did not know anything about.

“Were you,” he cleared his throat after looking at me for a while. “Upset?”

“Ha?” I inhaled while my mind just left the building. “I thought you were dead; I was not upset. I wanted to die but I had to wait for you to be back to me. What would happen if you appeared in our home and could not find me? That was the only thought kept me alive.”

“How much you heard about explosion?” his voice was cracked. Full of fear. Anxiety.

“I knew that monkey exploded himself. No one told me in detail, no fucking one tell me that you are alive. I guess, they think I am nothing to you even though I carry your name.”

“I wanted them to shut their mouth about me.” Levi was a sweet talker as always. “I did not want my situation keeping you back from living your life as fully.”

“And what does it mean?” I managed to lift my upper body by gaining strength from my elbows. “Do you know how many days I spent mourning for you? Do you know how it was, believing that you were dead because of a monkey, because of Commander Smith, because of our goddamn world’s cruelty? An I had to continue on that way until the end!”

I could not control myself anymore, it was too much, overwhelming and suffocating. I just wanted to scream everything I have been holding inside out off my chest. I was definitely not in my best physical condition, and I really preferred to have this conversation in a situation which I would be at my best self-confidence time, but no. It was too late for that.

“Do you know how much I cried? Have you ever thought about me even for little while you are exactly aware of my devotion to you? How could you decide leaving me behind, in a total darkness by yourself? Not because once I was your wife, I was your comrade and you left me with the feelings like how you felt after Commander Erwin passed out.”

“Look at me!” he literally grunted towards me. “I am not the guy you have been knowing in the past anymore, I cannot give anything to you, unless you are fine with a small tea shop where is full of tea leaves, two Marleyan kids and a retired soldier’s company. And me, as wrecked, wounded to death, like a scumbag. How could I comeback to home like nothing happened to me, and face with you when you just having a change of living a normal life after war?”

This was the longest speech Levi gave to me till now, and we had almost half of our lives together.

“Do you think I could take you out of my mind even for a bloody second after I woke up in a fucking, dirty and cold barn? You were the last thought of me when that motherfucker exploded my cart, you were fucking crying and lamenting for me, you lost your smile, I knew that you could not overcome my death although the promises we gave to each other, I cold-heartly killed my subordinates before the explosion after they became fucking titans, but I cannot deal with the idea of you being dead. You are the only one I cannot sacrifice of. Do not act like you were alone in pain, I carried that burden, you have no idea how much I missed you, you were carved into my eyelids, I did not spend a fucking minute as not dreaming of you.”

“You should have let me know.” I gritted my teeth. To be honest, I was impressed by his honesty. Levi was always honest; however, he had never been vocal about his own feelings, I knew for once he loved me, but I had never ever heard those three words, eight letters. “There is nothing left to be said by you, you cannot find an excuse for your choice.”

“I do not try to find an excuse.” Levi said. “I explained how I felt to you until you appeared in front of my door, for a long time I strongly believed that you were a ghost.”

“What do you expect?” I hissed at him. “Do you think I can easily forget your misbehaviour? I know you like knowing the back of my hand, you always choose the way that makes you less regretful and you chose to leave me behind.”

“I did.” he inhaled. “And that was the best choice to make. I could not drag you into my shit.”

“How could you do that?” I asked but all my anger left me. I suddenly started to feel like I was empty, there was nothing but pain. “How could you, Levi? I was your wife.”

“You are my wife.” he grabbed my hand. Did he really believe that he could change our hiatus? My emotions were remained untouched, maybe he could be right on his mindset, maybe he really thought about me and tried his best in order to keep me out of his personal hell, however it did not help me to overcome all the sleepless nights I had. I pulled my hand back out of his fingers. I was searching for this hand during the long nights he caused, and there was no guarantee he would not leave me again. If he would decide on leaving me behind was the best thing to do, he would do it immediately. He would not ask my opinion, he would leave me alone with only my thoughts, my memories of him and he would let me to eat myself alive. I could almost taste the bitterness on my tongue, I could not let his poor reprimands to break my walls while my wavering feelings of abandonment conquered me.

Rain hitting the windowpane above, not a playful and soft type of rain. That was cruel rain that beating the life out of city. Suitable for us.

“You are my wife, Anna.” he repeated himself. “Should I remind it to you, goddamn, I can happily do it.”

His face transformed into something I have ever seen in his features. His Aegean eyes turned into a stormy sea in a second, burning with unnamed desires which I was also feeling in the deeps of my heart. Determination conquered his fucking handsome face, and there was fear. Self-hatred. Regret. But much to my dismay, there was a dire need of teaching me a lesson that set his soul on fire.

I have been knowing this face of Levi. I have been there before.

I knew when he got me and he knew he did.

In a blink of an eye, before I could take any position to defend myself, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to his arms. He was fucking strong for a man who lost his strength! I quickly realized the potential danger I was in. If he would touch me, I knew that my heart did not spend even a second to betray my mind. That would be the nail in my coffin.

Even though the haziness of my mind slowed my reactions, I covered my face with my hands.

“Do not fucking dare.” I dropped my voice tone as I was informed on, I looked more intimating when I threat someone with lower tone. I did not tone down my wording, there was no place to be gentler with words, I was going to use my curses and I had quite a vocabulary. “If you lay even a finger on me, that’s going to be only way makes you regretful.”

“Maybe.” he did not try to take my hands off my face, and he literally locked me in his embrace. “I assume so.”

“If you do,” I struggled to get rid of his arms around me. “Why don’t you use your brain and let me go? For a better life?”

“So smart.” he huffed once in laughter. What the fuck? The tension of the room changed into something I really did not want even to think of naming it. “I do not have intention to let you go. Never again, brat.”

“Levi, I swear on everything you can believe, if you do not le-

“What will you do?” he interrupted me. “According to you, I already fucked the things up and you told me you will never give me your forgiveness. What makes a difference between not being forgiven for a sin or for two sins?”

“This is the shittiest logic I have ever heard, and I was in Military Police for a while.” I forgot to press my hands onto my face due to his unexpected, unpleasant, and twisted thought about forgiveness. “I do not know where you learned about sins, asking for forgiveness or literally remission, but I think you lost couple of important points.”

What I missed was while I was lecturing him on forgiveness, I let my hands down and I had been sitting on Levi Ackerman’s thighs.

More importantly, he was definitely not the type of man who miss a chance to perform what he aimed for.

He caught my hands immediately and he pressed his lips into mine.

When I felt his velvety lips on my mouth after fucking years, that sensation made me numb in a nanosecond. My logic just left the room, left me with my dire need for Levi. His hands. His lips. His love. Everything about him, I just need Levi, Godfuckingdamnit he always affected me like anaesthesia.

He kissed me and it made me felt like I was breathing again.

I could feel he loosened his tight grip around my wrists by the fact that I was definitely not fighting with him, on the contrary, I was responding to him in the way he wanted. I knew that I was going to be extremely ashamed of what the heck I was doing right now, but even the sorrowness eating me every day refused taking the control of my body back, I felt like my flesh gained an independent character who was begging to my soul for keeping the things as they were happening right now.

Levi was kissing me. His goddamn lips made me feel like I was alive.

The Ouroboros that living inside of me started to comeback into life. With every move Levi made, I could feel Ouroboros biting itself inside of me by releasing the poison.

“No.” I broke the kiss and pressed my hands to his shoulders in order to keep him away from me. He was heavily breathing, his beautiful face became pinkish while his lips shading with darker red, and his eyes, goddamn, his eyes were burning with passion.

He looked like a god, and I hated him for his level of good-looking to my bits.

I was burning too but my fire was caused by different reasons except one, the reciprocated hunger for each other was remained same between Levi and me, to my dismay I strongly felt it. However, the anger was growing in me was for both of us. To him, for his fucking departure and leaving me by myself and his shitty excuses, building a life without me, living a life in the shadows, and running away from me. The list never ends. To myself, for loving him as much as the first day I realized how much I devoted my heart to him and never manage to overcome my love for him even though I had to.

“I love you.” he said. “You fucking know, I spent my life by loving you, brat.”

Maybe there was an earthquake.

Maybe there were bombs exploding all over Marley or Paradise.

Maybe there was a chain of natural disasters which happening right now.

But I could not understand even if I would be brutally killed in this very moment.

He finally said that he loved me.

“If you say no, I will not do anything.” he murmured. “Just tell me.”

I stared at him, how could he be a total moron and did not see how I was amazed by his long-awaited confession? Inside of me, I was screaming, swearing, crying, laughing, and cursing at full speed but I was frozen in reality.

Let me introduce Levi Ackerman to you.

A blockhead, humanity’s strongest and my Ouroboros literally and figuratively eating me alive.

My Levi.

“May I continue to kiss you?”

[jule1122]

Malex Fic - Tonight the winds of change are coming over me

My fic for Day 1 of Michael Guerin Week.  Fic prompt is “You don’t have to stay.”  This is the fic that actually fits the prompt.

Title is from “Caution” by The Killers

Tonight the winds of change are coming over me on AO3

Summary: he watches as her eyes slide to the half filled out University of Arizona application sitting on the end table.  A bright pink sticky note reads “Deadline” in Alex’s neat handwriting followed by a date that’s getting too close to ignore. 

“So what are you doing for Alex’s birthday?” Isobel asks once they’ve caught up on the latest Max and Liz drama.

Michael makes a face and shrugs.  Neither he or Alex have much experience with birthdays and holidays, and so far they’ve navigated them with mixed results.  The first year they were together, he let Isobel talk him into throwing Alex a surprise party which he hated.  He overcompensated last year by not even acknowledging Alex’s birthday.  As the date approaches, Michael’s been struggling to figure out a safe middle ground.

“I can take Maggie for the weekend,” Isobel nods to the beagle she’s been idly stroking for the last hour.  As if she heard her name, Maggie burrows deeper into her lap and snorts.

“Why?  Maggie’s fine when we go out, if we even go out.”

“But she can’t stay here alone if you spend the weekend in Tucson house hunting.  Between Maggie’s howling and Alex’s accessibility needs, you can’t just settle for some random apartment.  You’re going to need to rent a house, maybe even think about buying one.”  

Michael doesn’t pretend not to know why she suggested Tucson as he watches as her eyes slide to the half filled out University of Arizona application sitting on the end table.  A bright pink sticky note reads “Deadline” in Alex’s neat handwriting followed by a date that’s getting too close to ignore.

The application has been sitting there for weeks; Michael wished he’d remembered to put it away before Isobel came over. “I started that a while back, but it’s nothing serious.”

“Alex thinks it is,” Isobel counters.

“It’s not up to Alex,” Michael snaps, realizing that came out harsher than he intended, he takes a breath before continuing.  “It’s something I think about every few years, check out my options, but it’s  just curiosity.  Academic window shopping,” he adds with a smile.  That’s something Isobel should understand.  “Things are good now.  I’m not looking to make any changes.”

“Just because things are good, doesn’t mean they can’t be better,” Isobel says gently.  “Remember how happy you were when Alex’s service was up.  Things were good then too, but it doesn’t mean you didn’t want him to retire.  Maybe that’s how he feels about you going to school.”

“That was completely different.  Alex never should have been in the Air Force at all let alone for as long as he was.  Besides, I’m not eighteen any more, Iz.  We’ve spent the last three years running from one disaster to another, up to our necks in alien bullshit.  Everyone we spend time with knows who we are, I barely pretend to be human anymore.  How am I supposed to go back to sitting in a classroom with a bunch of kids, hoping no one figures out my secret?”

“Michael, unless you start floating things around the room and loudly announce you’re from another planet, the idea of you being an alien isn’t going to cross anyone’s mind,”  Isobel rolls her eyes at him.  “And even if you did that, no one would believe you. People outside Roswell aren’t alien obsessed.  What they are going to see is the literal genius they need to suck up to if they want help passing the class.  They will be too impressed with your brain to even think about your DNA.”

“I had my chance, and I screwed it up.  I can’t go back and fix it.”

“No one’s asking you to go back, but you can go forward.  So you screwed up, we all did.  But we were just kids, Michael, scared, dumb kids.  We were doing the best we could to try and stay safe, to keep our secrets.  I know we made a lot of mistakes.  We hurt ourselves, and we hurt each other, but we need to forgive ourselves,” Isobel leans across Maggie and takes his hand.

“Greg’s really starting to rub off on you.” As soon as Michael sees the sparkle in her eyes, he realizes what he said.  He shakes his head quickly to cut her off, “Forget I said that, please.  The last thing I need is details about your sex life with Alex’s brother.”

“Spoilsport,” she teases, before turning serious again.  “Greg knows how it feels to regret what you did, or in his case didn’t do, when you were younger.  And as relieved as we are that Jesse Manes is dead, killing his father is a lot more complicated for Greg.  He’s working through that along with the guilt from what he watched happen to Alex.  Seeing him try to make peace with all that has pushed me to deal with my own guilt.”

“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about.  Like you said, we were just kids,” Michael interrupts.  

“That’s for me to decide.  I’m done playing the innocent, Michael, that’s only ever made things worse.  Looking back now, it’s so clear how it all went wrong, but we couldn’t see it then.”  Isobel laughs but it’s not a happy sound.  “You and Max were ready to move on, to start your lives.  Anyone could see how smart the two of you were.  And instead of being happy for you, I was terrified.  I didn’t know what was happening to me, and I couldn’t see any future for myself.  If you and Max left, I thought I would be alone forever, that no one else could ever love me.  So I made you stay here so you could never outgrow me.”

“You didn’t force us to do anything.  We wanted to stay and help you.  We did it because we loved you, it was our choice.”

“Maybe,” Isobel concedes.  “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t push you in that direction.  And it doesn’t mean those were good decisions.  We didn’t talk to each other, not about the things we should have, and you and Max were driven by your own issues.  Max and his damn hero complex, and you with your belief that you had to suffer to be worthy of love.”

Michael winces as Isobel hits too close to the truth.  There’s a reason he hates talking about this stuff.  Even with Alex it’s hard, but like Isobel said, the three of them have never found a way to talk about that summer, at least not without hurting each other.

Sensing his discomfort, Isobel squeezes his hand.  “I’m not judging you, either of you.  I just want you to understand that just because we can’t fix or change the past, doesn’t mean we can’t move forward.  I know you wanted to help me, but I don’t need you to protect me any more. You don’t have to stay here.  <i>I</i> don’t need you to stay.”

“Isobel,” Michael leans over to hug her.  He didn’t know how much he needed to hear her say that.  Maybe it’s silly, but he really feels like a weight was lifted off him.  “Thank you,” he whispers into her hair.

Tired of being squished between them, Maggie jumps down with an annoyed bark.  They both laugh and pull back.

“Anyway,” Isobel says as she wipes her eyes, “Tucson is not that far.  We can visit all the time.”

“Yeah,” Michael agrees, hoping it’s true.

“I’m serious.  If this is what you want, don’t let me or anyone else hold you back.”

“I won’t,” Michael says, for once confident that he means it.

After Isobel leaves, Michael waits restlessly for Alex to come home.  He thinks about finishing the application, but he wants to talk to Alex first.  It’s not that he has any doubts that Alex will support him, but he needs this to be something they do together.

His plans for a discussion before dinner go out the window the minute he sees Alex.  He’s sun-kissed and sweaty after a day spent at the market with Maria and the gym with Kyle.  Michael’s all over him before the door finishes closing, burying his face in Alex’s neck, immersing himself in the taste and scent of him.  

“You could have let me shower first,” Alex teases later once they’ve made it to the bed, and they are both too tired to do more than just enjoy being close to each other.

“Seems like a waste when you just have to shower with me anyway,” Michael props himself up on his elbow and catches the glint in Alex’s eye.  “You could have showered at the gym if you were that concerned about it.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Alex pulls him down for a kiss before turning to face Michael.  He tucks Michael’s hair behind his ear, smiling at the way Michael leans into his hand.  “I like the way you look at me when I come home all sweaty.”

“You noticed, huh,” Michael makes no effort to hide how sexy he thinks Alex is; he never wants Alex to doubt how much he is desired.  “You know I look at you like that all the time.  I like you sweaty, I like you naked, I like you first thing in the morning and right before you fall asleep, I like you laughing, I like you serious and in charge, and if you give me a few minutes, we’ll take that shower, and I’ll remind you of how much I like you all wet.”  Michael punctuates each item on his list with a kiss, each one lingering a little longer than the last.  “I love you every way I can get you.”

“I love you too, but you are going to need to give me more than a few minutes if we are going to make the most of the shower,”  Alex pushes himself up so he’s leaning against the headboard and pulls Michael to rest against his chest.  “How was your visit with Isobel?”

“Good, she wants to keep Maggie the weekend after your birthday.”

“She really needs to get a dog of her own instead of trying to steal ours,” Alex laughs.  “Wait, I didn’t know we were going anywhere?”

“She thought we might want to go to Tucson, start looking for a place to stay,” he states it as casually as he can, trying not to make it seem like a big deal.

He feels Alex tense then relax so he tilts his face up so he can see him.  “So you’re ready, then?  Alex asks with a smile.

Michael nods, a little overwhelmed with the love and pride he can see in Alex’s expression.  “Isobel made a good point about looking for a house,” Michael clears his thought and continues  “With Maggie and making sure we find something accessible for you, I don’t think an apartment will be a good choice.” 

“You're probably right,” Alex says after a moment.  “Maggie needs a yard and some distance from the neighbors when she’s feeling vocal.  We can look online then set up tours of the ones we like.”

“I don’t want to sell the house,” Michael blurts out.  He bits his lip and starts again, more calmly.  “Isobel suggested buying a place, but I’d rather rent.  I’m not ready to leave for good.”

“Hey,” Alex runs a hand through Michael’s hair and waits until he has his attention.  “No one said anything about selling this place.  You have a few years of school before we even need to think about what comes next.  We have time to figure it out. I want to be where you are, simple as that, Michael, you know that.  I’d rather have our own place to come back to for breaks and holidays anyway.”

Michael takes the reassurance from Alex gratefully.  Going to school is going to be enough of an adjustment, he can’t imagine leaving Roswell behind at the same time.  He knows Alex doesn’t feel the same way.  He’s always wanted to get out.  It’s better for him now, with his father dead and Greg around a lot more, but it will never be home to him the same way it is to Michael.  

As relieved as he is that a permanent move is no longer on the table, there is another concern he wants to discuss.  “I’ll need to find a job, once we move, maybe two.  Without a scholarship, even with loans, school’s expensive.”  Alex is quiet long enough that Michale starts to worry.  “If you think we can’t afford it right now, we can wait.  Another year or two doesn’t really matter at this point.”  He knows Alex is doing well with his freelance work, but that doesn’t mean they can afford two households and school right now.

“No, no that’s not a problem.”  He feels Alex take a breath, “I was looking at the website, and they accept VA funding.”

“You thinking about going to school with me?” Michael asks, a little surprised because Alex has never mentioned this before.

“No,” Alex wrinkles his nose.  “One degree is enough for me.”

“So?” Michael isn’t sure why Alex is bringing this up, but the tension he’s starting to feel from Alex is making him nervous.  

“I’ve been planning this for a while, but then we started talking seriously about you going back to school, and I didn’t want to seem like I was taking advantage.”  Alex reaches for Michael’s hand, but his fingers flutter restlessly against Michael’s.

Michael sits up so he’s facing Alex, takes his hand firmly in his own, hoping to ground them both.  “Alex, I have no idea where you are going with this, but you can tell me anything.”

“I want to marry you,” Alex says it like a confession.  “I want to ask you to marry me, I have for a long time, but I didn’t want to rush you so I was waiting.  I want to marry you because I love you and you love me and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  No other reason.”

Michael feels like his brain shuts down for a minute while he adjusts to a world where Alex wants to marry him, but Alex is still talking so he does his best to focus on what he is saying.

“If we’re married, you could use my GI Bill to pay for school.  It would cover everything, even give you some money each month for books and expenses.  But I don’t want you to feel pressured to say yes because of that or think I’m holding it over your head.  We’ll be fine without it.”

He looks like he can’t figure out if he’s trying to propose or talk Michael out of marrying him.  Alex hasn’t looked this uncertain about Michael’s feelings in a long time, and he hates it.

“Alex,” Michael shakes his head and laughs a little, trying to figure out how to respond to that.  Only Alex would worry he was using his GI money as an incentive for Michael to marry him without worrying it would be the reason Michael says yes.  His faith in Michael’s integrity is both flattering and terrifying.

He takes Alex’s face in his hands, making sure he is looking at him.  “Alex,” he begins again.  “If you don’t know I’ve been dreaming about marrying you since we were seventeen, you haven’t been paying attention these last few years.  I love you, and there’s no future I imagine for myself that doesn’t have you in it.  Of course I want to marry you, and the only reason I need to say yes is that you asked me before I worked up the courage to ask you.”

Alex sags in relief, tension leaving his body, “We’re going to get married.”

“Yeah, we are,” Michael’s almost overwhelmed with happiness.  He wants to laugh or shout out the window how lucky he is.  He settles for hugging Alex then pulling back enough to see his face, to see his own happiness reflected back at him.  “I’m going to be your husband.”  

Alex starts to tear up. “Husband,” he says in awe, cupping Michael’s cheek and pulling him in for a quick, hard kiss.

“Where are you going?” Michael asks when Alex moves to get up.

“I have a ring for you,” Alex replies almost shyly.  “I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he says again as if he needs Michael to believe him.

“Later,” Michael places his hand on Alex’s chest to hold him in place.  As much as he wants to wear Alex’s ring, he wants this moment with him more.  “Later,” he repeats as he moves to straddle Alex’s lap.  “Let me celebrate with my fiance first.”

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Division of Labor (4/?)

Summary:  

“The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly…”

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Note: From request of @a-golden-hearted-snk-fan. See this link for the request

So here is the next chapter of division of labor. I had intended to drop it today for a long time. I didn't expect it to coincide with leaks so sorry for the slight mood whiplash.

Anyway, thank you to the anons on tumblr for asking about this fic. I still find it pretty surreal that people actually think about my work, let alone send asks about it.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Having lived alone for all of his high school life and some of his middle school life, Levi was sure of one thing.

Cooking is fun. Except when it is graded.

In fact, nothing can be fun when someone is behind them watching their every move telling them their performance in that one activity can determine a grade and that grade can determine their future. As Levi and Hange surveyed the ingredients in front of them, Erwin was behind them. Of all the workstations he had chosen to hang out in, it happened to be theirs.

As Levi looked at the other workstations, he could see Nanaba to his left already cracking two eggs into a bowl next to Mike. Bertholdt who was working in front of them with his pair Reiner was already cutting up what looked like cheese cubes. To his right was his own pair Hange who was shaking the eggs to her ear.

“Just to check if they’re boiled,” she explained. Levi did not even notice he had given her a judgemental look until she avoided his gaze looking a little self conscious.

Of course they wouldn’t be boiled. They were supposed to be doing everything from scratch. Why did he and Hange in particular look the most clueless? Why weren’t they doing anything? Levi looked behind him again to see Erwin still staring at both of them. I’m not clueless. Levi had to remind himself. He preplanned and prepared meals multiple times a week. He could make anything from the ingredients laid out in front of him. Eggs. Cheese. Celery. Instant noodles.

Why the hell is there instant noodles. What am I supposed to be making?

That ordeal only fueled his hatred for surprise tasks. He hated pop quizzes. Particularly because he had the cursed history of not knowing exactly what would be asked during the actual quizzes but having comprehensive knowledge in another facet of whatever topic they discussed in class. At that moment, he could have gladly given an oral exam about why exactly putting a washing machine in the bathroom was a good idea. Hange probably would have been able to do a practical exam or presentation explaining why a rent-to-own scheme was the best option for homeowners.

Both he and Hange though, probably spent at the most ten minutes running through that meal plan which was biting them so painfully in the ass at that moment. On top of that, the restrictions were ridiculous and unnecessary.

“No checking the recipe?” It was Connie that time towards the front of the room who was protesting the ridiculous restriction put on them. “I thought you’re supposed to be simulating adulthood. In real life everyone could just research the recipes? ”

“What if you don’t have wifi but you have eggs and vegetables in front of you and you need to cook breakfast?” Erwin challenged.

“We’ll have recipe books.” Sasha answered.

Erwin raised his eyebrows, looking pointedly at the Connie and Sasha pair. “Will your current financial situation allow that?”

Levi found some solace in Erwin’s comment. Maybe, just maybe that meant that they weren’t the only pair currently burning in hell financially in this little game of adulting. He looked to Hange and the face she made as Erwin had said the words `current financial situation’ and “allow” in the same sentence, Levi guessed that Erwin’s comment probably applied to them as a pair too.

“It is important at least for all of you to know the basics of cooking a nice meal even without the recipe.

Levi sighed. He lived alone and he knew they didn’t need it. Levi had a recipe book for easy recipes at home and almost always had wifi anyway. Nobody actually needed to memorize recipes. He was aware though of the culture of schools to know that schools always made things harder than they were supposed to be.

At least when you’re in the real world, things will be so much easier because you’ve had it hard already. Some teachers would defend. Making things unnecessarily hard though wasn’t at all an effective way to get people good at things. Sometimes, making things unnecessarily hard only left students with chronic unresolved tensions with certain formulas, academic concepts and sometimes even mundane objects they had encountered too many times in an academic setting. In fact, he started to feel the beginnings of it when he encountered washing machines and Japanese style house designs while he went grocery shopping that weekend. A few times he also could have sworn he’d seen Hange recoil at hearing the words ‘debit’ and ‘credit.’

“Maybe we should boil the eggs?” Hange lined up the ingredients on the counter.

“What the hell are you doing?” Levi asked, or more specifically panicked. Around him he could see the others already turning on the stove. Watching Hange observe the ingredients was only a grave reminder of their own incompetence.

“I’m just trying to arrange the ingredients in different ways. Maybe a good idea will come to mind.” She paused for a second. “Scrambled eggs?”

"Hear me out Hange, what if it isn't scrambled eggs." The ingredients all pointed to scrambled eggs or an omelette. In front of them there was a pan, a skillet, eggs, butter and vegetables. That seemed like the most reasonable option. Having taken tests and quizzes for most of his life though, Levi was a master of the art of ‘doubting one’s self’ in high pressure situations where every decision equated to a deduction. “Why is there a pack of instant noodles?” Whether he had intended to or not, Levi had ended up saying his thoughts out loud.

Hange paused for a second, pressing her thumb to her lips in thought, her eyes completely fixed on the pack of instant noodles in front of her. She looked like she was starting to doubt herself too. “You’re right. Levi, why are there instant noodles? Didn’t you make the meal plan?”

“Didn’t you check it?”

“I did check it. If i remember correctly, there was a recipe for scrambled eggs. But there should have been vegetables.” Hange brought the instant noodles pack closer to her and closely read through it. “Wait a minute. This is chow mein? I thought chow mein was a type of vegetable. Why the hell would you put instant noodles in scrambled eggs?”

Instant noodles and scrambled eggs. For some reason, it hadn’t clicked when all he saw were the ingredients in front of him. With Hange bringing up the two key ingredients of eggs and instant noodles, he started to remember what revisions he had made to that particular recipe. “It’s cheaper to make omelette rice with instant noodles than with actual rice.” He admitted lightly.

“Levi! We’re graded for nutritional value. Did you not read the rubrics?”

Levi looked away. In fact he had failed to read the rubrics. “Weren’t you supposed to be checking my work?

“I did check it.”

“Then why did you think chowmein is a type of vegetable? Aren’t you a fan of botany?”

“Levi there are at least one thousand vegetables to think of. You can’t expect me to keep track of all of them.”

Levi then realized that maybe having too much information in one’s brain was a little disadvantageous. Hange may be right that there are thousands of types of vegetables in the world. Levi was sure though that only at least fifty of those types would have been available in an average supermarket. You don’t really go grocery shopping much do you? A part of him had wanted to criticize her and maybe start a little argument.

The clatter of pots and pans around him and the urgent sounding voices was only telling him one thing, time was running. They had to churn something up or risk failing that quiz. He wished at least he could have double checked the rubrics. Alas, their phones were in their bags, all gathered towards the front of the rooms. All they had armed with them then was their procedural memory and the many ingredients in front of them.

Maybe, just maybe though we could do a little improvisation. Levi made eye contact with Hange as he said it. It looked like she had read his mind, Hange reached out for the instant noodles in front of him, ready to slip the pack silently into her pocket.

“If I find out any of you revised any of your recipes or you miss out on one ingredient, expect a 50% deduction for this test,” Erwin announced from behind them.

Within a second, the pack of instant noodles was back on the table and that flash of understanding between Levi and Hange had changed to one of horror and panic. Did he notice?

“Marco, I really cannot remember why the hell I needed so many of these spices in the first place.” Jean said apologetically from his station to their right.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have asked your mom to make the meal plan in the first place then.” Marco sounded surprisingly pissed.

At least they weren’t the only one in hell’s kitchen.

                                  Division of Labor

By some silent agreement, all meetings with his actual friends were cancelled. It was as if everyone in the room had unanimously decided to make up for that disaster of a kitchen quiz by working on the next deliverable days before it was due. It was as if everyone was sure they had failed Erwin’s little pop quiz

Or long test. Erwin though never gave the breakdown of how much of their grade that disaster in the kitchen was. Levi found some assurance at least in the fact that everyone did look as unsure as they were about it. They can’t fail the whole class right?

Either way, a failing grade is still a failing grade. Levi and Hange had gone for the plan of omelette rice having kept the instant noodles revision. And with nutritional value a 60% of their grade for the actual meal plan, their expectations for their grades were low. On the bright side at least, Erwin said that there would be more pop quizzes in the kitchen, so they just had to memorize the recipe of whatever they put in the meal plan the next time around.

It would be painstaking, Levi was sure. But as students he and Hange had been forced to memorize formulas, kingdoms and phyla, vocabulary words, thesis statements, poems and dialogues. That should be nothing. Levi though had a building resentment for the subject, particularly the fact that no one had prepared them for that type of stress at all. None of the seniors ever had to do this type of program and thus, Levi was completely unprepared mentally for ‘adulting.’

Welcome to adulthood. That was what was written on the top of the questionnaire he and Hange were supposed to be submitting by Friday midnight. It was Wednesday afternoon of that week and he was grateful Hange had even suggested they start earlier. Only that morning, Erwin had submitted a new list of deliverables which seemed more comprehensive than the last.

September*

Week 1

Meal Plan

Investment Plan Part I: Disposable Income

Pop quiz

Week 2

Education Plan for Kids

Module 2 (See attached fail)

Pop quiz

Week 3 - 4

TBA

While Hange answered some of the questions on the questionnaire, Levi could only stare at the module in his email. He had promised Hange he would look into it while she filled out her part of the questionnaire. His eyes though were stuck on the little typo

Fail. He was sure Erwin meant file. In that type of module though, he would consider that typo almost fatal since the whole program was already screaming the words ‘failure’ at him.

He had to note at least that Erwin put the words pop quiz there for every week. He couldn’t help but think it was due to the fact that everyone had failed that last cooking exam and that was a sign of some mercy on the teacher’s side.

He clicked the module below the email to find that the file was too large at least for google to open. Oh, I guess it’s too large to open on my phone. It might slow it down after all. A petty excuse but he was just tired and instead decided to entrust the responsibility of opening said document to the Levi of a few hours later who would be in front of an actual computer.

“The file is too big to open on my phone. Sorry, I didn’t think about bringing my laptop today.” Levi’s words weren’t too sincere. A part of him was telling him never to bring his laptop on campus in the first place and was thankful for that bout of irresponsibility. Delaying the inevitable at present is always such a sweet feeling after all.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t too hard to fill out what’s needed. We just needed to assign rooms for Flora and Fauna…” Hange started looking pointedly at the flour babies who were leaning by the window of the diner they started to frequent. “Then break down our budget for other things like furniture, groceries, household necessities…”

She slid the paper over to Levi. As if by magic, his brain just shut down at seeing the numbers out there. A part of him though, a more tenacious part was nagging at him to comment at the computations in front of him.

He focused on the words not the numbers. There were calculations for household necessities like detergent and cleaning wax, groceries, baby stuff, utility bills. Somehow it was only making Levi feel more useless for not even understanding what she was writing.

So you have to comment. Levi willed himself to open his mouth and rack his brain for something reasonable and useful to say. Those thoughts on his end all culminated to two words. “Washing machine... “

“What? You’re still not over that?”

“You really don’t want the washing machine in the bathroom?”

“Levi, we’ve been over this!” Hange said, looking exasperated. Within a split second, her look softened into something else then within a second twisted into what looked like shame or embarrassment. “Yeah, I don’t think we even have the money to pay for that in installments now. But hey, a washing machine isn’t a necessity right? Like handwashing is still a thing.”

Levi didn’t agree. He knew in the back of his mind that anything that made cleaning easier was a necessity. Hange though had made the calculations and as a form of respect for her hardwork and a punishment for himself and his inability to have been of any use with that questionnaire, he kept quiet.

He just had to trust her. Group works were all about trust after all.

                                      Division of Labor

“Your answers were all a fucking mess. If adulting was a war, none of you would make it back alive. All of you will starve with your shitty planning and resource conserving skills.” Shadis waved a wad of papers so magnificently over his head as he slammed them on the table. “I want to hear your justifications for making such idiotic decisions. Maybe that can bring up your grade to a D at least.”

“Blouse Springer!”

“Yes sir!” Sasha stood up instinctively.

“Connie join your partner!”

“We have to sta---?” Connie’s eyes widened as if he realized a second later the disrespect in what he had just said. He stood up a split second after. “Yes sir!”

“Tell me again. What are your jobs?”

Connie looked at the documents and back at him. “Is what we put in the document… wrong… sir?”

“What. Are. Your. Jobs?”

Sasha and Connie exchanged glances and looked back up at him. “I’m a marketing specialist…” Connie started. “And Sasha---”

“Journalist sir.”

“So you have eight to five jobs right?”

“Yes we do,” Connie answered.

“And three kids?”

The two nodded in sync. “Yes sir,” Sasha said. “Or that’s what I remember…” In fact, she shouldn’t have had to recall that. The three flour sacks were on their desk after all. “Did we miss one?”

Shadis ignored them. “Then why did you tick ‘no babysitter’ here?”

“Are we supposed to tick it sir?” Connie asked. A brave question that had everyone in the classroom more silent than they had been a second ago.

“You have eight to five jobs and three children. So are you telling me you will take the kids to work?

“Are we allowed? The fee for a babysitter everyday just seems… extravagant.”

That wasn’t the right word. The right word was exorbitant. As some of the people in the class would have agreed. Many could see though that Connie was shaking at the incessant questions and that should have been the last of his concerns.

Shadis though seemed unpreturbed at the wrong word choice. “Well what if your boss doesn’t allow you to bring three kids to work?”

“Then we leave them at home?”

“And you know that’s illegal?”

The silence in the room had become deafening.

“You can be sued for child neglect,” Shadis expounded

“But how would they know?” It was a bold question from Connie

The room exploded in hesitant mutters only silenced a second later by Shadis’ eerily cold reply. “Social workers are very perceptive people, Connie. I’m surprised you’re even underestimating them. Be ready to pay attorney dues for this.” He wrote something on the paper on his desk which was probably Connie and Sasha’s submission before pushing it to the bottom of the pile.

“Next pair…Ackerman Zoe. Stand up.”

By lunchtime, Levi was in a trance, a very strong strance. He did not even notice the students who had filed out of the classroom for lunch, his eyes completely fixed on the beautiful view of the school courtyard as the leaves started to change color.

That was not what he was admiring though. He wasn’t actually admiring anything. Although his eyes were fixed at such a beautiful view, his brain had done nothing to process it.

“So… You wanna talk about the next output?” That familiar voice sounded like a screech to Levi and it was more than enough to pull him out.

“We are so fucked.” Levi’s words were almost instinctive. It was as if just hearing Hange’s voice sent his whole body into panic mode. Of course he would, having just been grilled by Shadis and having one’s incompetence exposed could do that to anyone.

“There’s an output every week. We’ll be fine,” Hange assured.

Levi could only stare at Hange. He had know idea what kind of face he was making. All he could think then though was the fact that she out of the two of them should have been in a worse state of panic than he was.

And her calm ironically only stressed him out further. Having been reeling from the stress of it for almost four hours, Levi still remembered their exchange perfectly.

"Okay Ackerman… Just a homemaker. And Zoe. You’re working freelance?

"So Levi and I decided that I'll be a scientist and he'll take care of the house," Hange had said so confidently.

"What about taxes?"

“Taxes?”

“I looked at the breakdown of your budget Zoe. You didn’t mention anything about taxes.”

“I’m freelance sir.”

“Zoe, has it ever occured to you that freelancers pay taxes too?”

And their lesson of the day came soon after that exchange. The tasks were detailed and demanded a lot of thought. Through all they had learned over that one painful exchange and maybe through the glimpses of the next few exchanges he had so half heartedly watched, he had learned a lot.

He could have easily summarized it all into one sentence though. Do not take Erwin's tasks with a grain of salt.

Erwin had thought everything through. It could have been by coincidence or it could have also been just a lack of thought on the side of the students but somehow the set up Erwin had was exposing the weaknesses of the students when it came to learning, and possibly their potential weaknesses when it comes to actual adulting.

"I’m deducting the taxes already."

"You heard Shadis, It's too late the hypothetical government is out to get us.” Levi added the word hypothetical to at least help himself bask in the fact that it was still a simulation. “We’re getting penalized.”

Hange smiled wryly. “Fine, we’re kinda financially… going through a rough patch,” She admitted. “But we’re not the only ones going through this type of financial bump. Eren and Mikasa, Sasha and Connie, Reiner and Bertholdt, Petra and Oluo…” Hange trailed off. “I mean okay Armin and Annie looked like they were doing fine but back in the supermarket, they looked kinda confused too.”

“A failing grade is a failing grade.”

“But Levi, they can’t fail the whole class.” Hearing that Hange was somehow very reassuring.

Hange was right. Teachers can’t fail a whole class and Levi was aware of two methods teachers tend to employ when dealing with an underperforming class: employ a curve or give extra credit.

Levi should have known though from his short yet very tumultuous few weeks with that adulting program that a curve would have seemed a little too merciful for their teachers.

With the uncomfortable look Erwin gave the class, Levi was sure at least a majority of the class had fucked up financially. How exactly, he was unsure.

Right after they had finished their own mini oral exam, Levi had fallen into a trance. A trance, trying to think up a back up life just in case he never manages to graduate high school or make it to college.

Misery though loves company. Especially when it’s a whole class failing. Levi was not the type to want to wish misfortune on anyone else. Being as completely idiotic and dense as he and Hange were though, Levi found himself grateful for the unfortunate situation the class found themselves in,

“It looks like a lot of you are struggling financially. Zeke and I had a quick talk about this actually…”

Levi’s blood ran cold at the name, Zeke. At that point, he didn’t know if he hated Zeke or he hated Math. Looking back at Zeke’s unfavorable personality, he was guessing probably both.

“And we realized it would be beneficial if we introduce the possibility of finding other sources of income which would be a good lesson in financial management.”

There were some sighs of disappointment among the class. Levi empathized. In fact, he probably would have joined them as well if he weren’t so jaded by the course of events already. Still, a small part of him had hoped as well that they would just raise their salaries.

That was the equivalent of a curve though and Levi somehow knew, grading on the curve was just not Erwin’s style.

“So I am introducing two options to increase your income. One is through investments which will be taught by Zeke another day and another one is through this ‘new system’ I thought out.” Erwin looked a little too proud of that ‘new system.’

“We will be offering extra tasks you may choose to take around the school, these include cleaning, admin tasks, lab work and anything else the teachers may need help done. Each task will have a corresponding pay which can be added to your income for that month.”

So it’s exploitable free labor. Levi thought to himself. He was sure he wasn’t the only one thinking of that. Everyone in the room was desperate though. In the end, despite the questionable set up, it had come out looking like a gesture of generosity from their teacher. Levi saw that in the way a lot of the students around him looked relieved to hear that announcement.

“Or we can just choose to budget within our means?” Annie spoke up from her place on the front next to Armin. She was notably calmer than a lot of people in the room. Levi had suspected for a while though that Armin and Annie weren’t in as much trouble financially.

“I’m sure though a lot of you would want to earn more money,” Erwin said, a knowing smile on his face. “You can exchange these for this thing I will be introducing called ‘disposable income tokens’ and if you collect enough, you can get a free ticket out of doing one of the modules or the pop quizzes of the week of your choice.”

[halo-jpeg]

Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 3

Eddie stood looking at himself in the mirror. The sky outside of his window was darkening, on the brink of sunset right near 6:30 pm. He was dressed in what he considered his 'party clothes', or at least the closest thing he could find- he wore a brown plaid button-up tee with a darker brown v-neck sweater, finally finished off with a pair of khaki pants. It was nothing special, really, but it was probably the most, as Bill had put it, 'chillax' thing he currently owned. Living with his mother, Eddie had grown used to wearing what she bought him and only what she bought him, which only consisted of simple tees, polo shirts and, of course, his occasional button-up. The sweater he currently wore had been a gift from Stan for his 18th birthday- he has gotten a similar one for his 19th as wel.

"St-Stan? Eddie? Ruh-ready to go?" Bill's voice echoed through the house, snapping Eddie from the odd trance he'd fallen into, staring right into his own reflection. Right, of course- he had a party to go to.

"Coming!" He called, and was just about to turn and leave the room when his eye was caught by an object on the surface of his dresser- It was his inhaler. For a moment, Eddie stared, and felt as if it were calling to him. He hadn't used it for months until the fight with his mother, and already he had vowed not to use it again. He'd been trying to shake the habit of using it just as he had started faking swallowing his old placebos; sadly, however, the effects of his false-asthma still kicked in so hard he had to take a puff or two. Eddie's lungs felt tight with anxiety at the idea of this stupid party, and he only debated for one more moment before grabbing the inhaler and jamming it into his pocket, just in case. He was quick to join his two friends, and they both set off- umbrellas in tow- into the now-starting rain.

***

It had been approximately 10 seconds and Eddie was fighting back over stimulation. Shit, he hasn't even knocked on the apartment door yet, and the booming, thumping music with it's impossibly heavy base was already putting him on edge. Stan was close to his side, Bill just a few paces ahead, and though he was more than grateful for their comforting, familiar presence he was terrified. Eddie didn't know these people. He was walking into a strangers home. He'd seen horror movies, he knows what happens in big, crowded parties with alcohol and hormonal teens and what happens is they get slashed by a serial killer. Maybe it was just paranoia, but Eddie was already wishing he could turn tail and flee. Bill, Stan and he stopped in front of the door belonging to the source of the noise, and that anxiety in the pit of his stomach tripled, if that was even something that could happen at this point. Eddie tried his very best to suck in deep breaths, but they came in with a slight whistle and made his chest ache.

"Ready?" Stan said, quickly straightening out the collar of his navy dress shirt, passing a quick glance and a warm smile in Eddie's direction, "It'll be okay, Eddie, you can stick by our side the whole time." Eddie nodded his head, clasping his hands nervously together in front of him. Bill gripped the door handle, giving it a twist and pushing it wide open. Ah, yes- Eddie hates this, indeed.

"Oh, no..." The words were spoken mostly to himself, drowned out almost entirely by the speakers throbbing throughout the house. It was dark, the only illumination coming from colorful fairy lights strung high above everyone's heads. The place was packed with moving, dancing bodies, red solo cups held in the hands of nearly everyone. Eddie could see glow sticks wrapped around wrists and hanging from necks, and even spotted a woman in a too-short dress clashing lips with a man in a Letterman jacket. Before he really could give in a flee, a hand was set gently on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Bill grinning down at him, his eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and concern. The question didn't need to be spoken for Eddie to know that Bill was nervous for him. With a simple shake of his head, Eddie dismissed his worries and motioned with one hand for the redhead to lead the way.

"Hey!" Before any of the three could move an all-too familiar voice rang through, slicing through the sounds of the party and calling all attention in that direction, "My dear friends, you made it!" Richie pushed past a few people on his route to the trio, his cheek-splitting grin even wider than usual and clearly under the slight influence of alcohol.

"Hey, Ruh-Richie! Thanks for inviting u-us, this is... a bigger puh-party then I've ever been to in my li-life!" Bill extended a hand for Richie to shake, and the host was quick to accept it with the one hand that wasn't harboring another one of those red cups. Eddie caught a glimpse of a dark liquid, along with the smell of booze and citrus.

"It sure is something," Stan agreed with a nod, and Richie gleamed with pride.

"Can I get you three some drinks? They may or may not be spiked. We also have, uh... grass, if that's any of your styles." Before Richie could be judged (Eddie was just about to scold him for drug use) he tacked on, "It's not my type of thing but I wouldn't mind if it was yours!" He started to laugh along with Bill, even Stan letting out a small chuckle, but Eddie was still hugely unimpressed with this all. Much to his demise, Stan the Polite had to go and agree to the drinks. Before he could protest, Richie was leading the way directly into the throng of people towards a kitchen. It was miserable. Dancers blocked the way to their desired destination, meaning the group had to push right through them. Not only was it impolite, but these teenagers were also drunk and disgusting. Eddie was trying so hard not to be so uptight, at least for one night, but he just couldn't do it. He pulled his arms into himself and braved the traverse, wincing as he began to attempt to weave through. He was pushed from all sides, sworn at by one rowdy man who he had accidentally bumped into and winked at by a drunken girl dancing with her friends. Though it was only momentary, it felt like centuries past where he was drowning among these bodies, afraid and struggling to breathe. Then, just like that, he was free on the other side, still right beside his two friends and the host who was bringing this treachery into his life.

"Quite the crowd," Eddie grumbled to Stan, both Richie and Bill failing to overhear. Stanley smiled and bumped Eddie gently with his elbow, yet again delivering a small form of reassurance. The kitchen was emptier than the rest of the house, but there were still a fair amount of party goers within it. Among them, Eddie recognized Mike leaned on the counter at the far end with two other kind-enough looking people- he also recognized these two from the coffee shop where they'd met Richie. A tall, sturdy man leaned against one wall, watching with obvious heart eyes as a redheaded girl seated on the counter chattered away about one thing or another. Right at their side sat a massive punch bowl, half empty but with plenty of other bottles of soda and alcohol around it to refill later if need be.

"Heya, you three," Richie greeted them with a smile and a wave, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Stan, Bill and Eddie, "I'm sure you all remember these guys." Richie spun on his heel, leaning his back against the counter and beginning introductions, "This is Bill, Stan and Eddie; and this is Beverly, Ben a Mike. Shake hands, maybe share a kiss, and give me another damn cup of punch." Eddie did none of the above, even when Bill moved forwards to do the first option. He shook hands with each new person in turn, and said his courteous 'nice to meet you'. Even Stan spoke up with a greeting and a small wave. Sure, Eddie felt like an antisocial asshole but he was having enough trouble keeping his asthma in check without touching a bunch of strangers. Speaking of his asthma, yeah, sure, it wasn't real or whatever but right now it sure felt like it was.

"Care for a drink?" Beverly hopped down from the counter, motioning towards the stack of unused cups there for the taking.

"Y-Yeah, hell yeah," Bill responded with a smile, "What... whu-what is it?"

"It smells rank," Stan grabs a cup, leaning over and staring down into the bubbling liquid, "I'd love some."

"This, my good friends, is what I call my 'Tozier Juice'- Orange juice, ginger ale, and lots and lots of alcohol, courtesy of Haystack over here," Richie patted Ben on the shoulder, sending him a friendly grin that much resembled the ones that Eddie and his two best friends shared- it was that of a close bond built on top of years and years of memories.

"Th-that actually doesn't suh-sound too bad," Both Stan and Bill helped themselves to the drink, and then they turned to Eddie. Both seemed to know that he wouldn't be interested, but a cup was offered by Bill either way. "Sh-sure you don't want any? Not even just a glass?"

"Fuck no, I don't want to ruin my liver- or my heart, or brain or-" A sharp intake of breath, it hurts,"-pancreas, for that matter. Did you know drinking too much can increase your blood pressure? Have you ever heard of a stroke?" Eddie crossed his arms, the muscles in his shoulders tensing just at the thought of what this alcohol could do to him. He could drink too much, just a little too much, and then that would be it for him. He'd collapse to the floor and he'd die right here and now. "Plus, if my mom ever found out she would kill me, like literally-"

"Hey, calm yourself, Eduardo," Suddenly, Richie's arm is sliding over his shoulders, pulling him close, too close, to that mass of tangled dark hair that could possibly be housing every louse on the planet, "This is a party, you don't have to follow mamma's rules!" Eddie shoved himself away with a grimace, his lungs closing tighter in on themselves. The contact was too close, Richie was too strange, and now Eddie was only growing more and more frightened and uncomfortable.

"Don't touch me, Richie! Jesus, that's-" Eddie shudders, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel anxiety building in his throat, climbing upwards and begging to be let out in a scream or something of the sort. Eddie hugged himself tightly, scrambling away from Richie and closer to Stan and Bill.

"Wow, Jesus, I-" Richie laughed nervously, and Eddie watched him exchange a curious glance with Stan, who only waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, I, uh... I guess. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything." Without returning an answer, Eddie glued his gaze to the floor, feeling heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks. Now, tension hung in the air like a shroud and it was because of him. Shit. He didn't mean to ruin everything. For a minute, and then two then three then a whole fourth, no one spoke, simply sipping at their drinks and listening to the deafening music. With each second that ticked by Eddie's throat closed tighter.

"So," Beverly broke the absence of speaking first, her voice raised to overpower that music that was still so loud, so fucking loud, throat tight, head pounding, "Tell me about yourselves. Rich tells me you're going to the same Uni as us? What classes do you have?" Bill took a sip from his 'Tozier Juice', and then responded in a voice just as loud as hers- he was too loud, now, too. His words begin to blend together into a collective hum, nothing but an indecipherable murmur as Eddie held himself tighter- he could hardly breathe, oh it hurt- The weight in his pocket was tempting, so tempting, and he wanted nothing more than to pull it out and take a puff, even if it was just sugar and water. The only thing stopping him was Stan and Bill on his either side, because they were against the placebo, they were trying to wean him off of it. Overpowering that murmur now was a sharp ringing, only pierced by the sound of collective laughter, too loud, suffocating. Eddie's face drained of it's colour, and no one seemed to notice. Can't breathe. He felt frozen, all of a sudden, rooted in place as if left in the cold for too long. He couldn't move his arms, his legs, and now his throat was growing tighter. He snapped his mouth open, fighting to suck in a breath- all at once, the sound came rushing back and it was all just too overwhelming. Eddie was gasping, fighting, snapping from his trance as all air fails to rush into his lungs. All eyes turn to him, Bill, Stan, Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- everyone is staring at him, looking at him, as he stumbles to the counter, his legs threatening to give out, Ben hurrying out of the way as Eddie almost falls right into him. The asthma attack was so sudden, so powerful- he had reached that tipping point, and gone tumbling right over the edge. Now, his throat was swollen shut, his head was pounding, that ringing was loud and the music was louder.

"Sh-shit, Eddie!" Bill was the first one to arrive at his side, and then everyone else. Every fucking person was surrounding him. He clutched onto the counter, still gasping, face paler than a sheet as he desperately fought against his reflexes. One powerful half of his mind screamed GRAB YOUR FUCKING INHALER EDDIE GRAB IT OR YOU'LL DIE YOU'LL SUFFOCATE RIGHT HERE AND- while the other half was shouting not to because then he was failing and when you fail you disappoint and he doesn't want to be any more of a disappointment than he already is. He gasps, sputters, grits his teeth and fights to reopen his throat but it won't cooperate. Strangers gazes bear into his back. He's the center of attention. His throat his shut like a vice.

"Eddie, hey, you okay?" Stan was there, a hand on his shoulder but that was too much, this was all too much and he didn't know what to do to stop it to stop the pain and the fear and the suffocation and he can't breathe.

"Hey hey hey hey, what's happening Eds? What's wrong, what can I do?" Richie was here now too, stupid annoying Richie with his caring tone and the hand he sets on Eddie's. Just like the too-loud laughter had been what sent him over the metaphorical cliff edge towards an asthma attack, this overload of contact had been him hitting the icy waters below. Without a second thought he burst upright, both Stan and Richie falling away, and ripped his inhaler from his pocket. He pulled off the cap and stuck it between his lips, pressing the button on the top and sucking in the breath with a sudden jolt. Air passed, a minute amount, and he needed another puff, and then, finally, a third. Each one rocked through his body, trailing with it relief, euphoria, burning through his veins, his throat, down into his lungs until- he let out a gasp as the inhaler left his mouth and felt the guilt rapidly push the good feelings away. The entire group had gone silent again, until Bill stepped forwards to place a hand on Eddie's arm.

"A-Are you okay now, Eddie? Did it help?" His tone probably wasn't meant to be condescending, but that was the only emotion Eddie could get from it. No, Bill, I'm not okay and I'll never be okay because my mom fucked me up big time, Bill, is what he wanted to say but he didn't get the chance because now Stan was on his other side with that sickly sweet concern that Eddie doesn't really deserve and they probably don't really mean.

"Can I get you water? Anything?" Eddie was quick to shake his head. Stan sucked in a slow breath, and let it out in a shudder. From his peripherals, Eddie caught the sight of him and Bill sharing a glance. He didn't miss the way Stan's lips quirked down into a frown, or the feeling of Bill just slightly shrugging one shoulder. He hadn't even been here for twenty minutes and Eddie was done. They were disappointed in him. He could sense it. Jamming his inhaler back into his pocket, he shook off both hands and set off to who knows where. He didn't know this apartment and he didn't give a shit. He needed to find a bathroom, a bedroom, a balcony, a something to get him as far away from the noise as possible. He hears them calling after him, Bill and Stan and maybe Richie too but the music swallows him whole as he pushes into the crowd towards what he thinks is a door to outside. He pushes, uncaring in it's entirety, needing to get out, away, to suck in the fresh air. His lungs feel tight again, but not as tight as before and he refuses to use his inhaler. He breaks free from the crowd and lets out a wheeze of a huff, falling into the door and shoving it open and closed as quick as possible.

Just like that, it is calm. With one shoulder against the glass he can feel the reverberation, the bass shaking the building in it's place. It's quieter now, faint enough that he can feel thoughts swimming around like panicked fish. Eddie pushes off of the door and staggers towards the railing, letting himself lean on it despite what his mother would say. You're so high up, Eddie-bear, don't lean like that or you'll fall! You'll tumble right down all six floors and then you'll be done for! The mother in his mind continued on about something else, about him not loving her enough to take care of himself, about why does he hate her? What did she do for him to treat her like this? But he pushes those thoughts away and locks them in a tight little box so he doesn't burst into tears. For the first time he realizes that the rain is heavier now, pouring down in steady, thrumming sheets, blotting out the streetlights below and further muffling that music. The smell of petrichor and lightning fell around him, probing in through his open mouth and cleansing his lungs of the placebo. It was soothing, so much so that his eyes fell shut and his head tipped back. He let the utter pleasure of the weather soak into his skin, the chill biting at the tips of his nose and ears. He could catch a cold, his mother warns from inside his head, but he locks those thoughts up even tighter and tells himself he doesn't give a shit. With each deep, rain-tasting breath his lungs give way a little more until it's clear again. A few minutes pass of deep breathing, exercises he's learned through the years. Calm washes over him and now he doesn't mind the distant heartbeat of the bass. Time seeps by slowly and he doesn't mind it.

Behind him, the door opens, and the tension sets in again.

"What do you want?" Eddie's voice is cold. He doesn't know who it is, assuming it's Bill or Stan and hating that he's not right. The music grows louder and then fades again as the door opens and shuts.

"Hey, Eds," Richie shatters his peace with a tentative tone, and then he's there at his side leaning against the railing.

"Don't call me that."

"I, uh... I wanted to say sorry." The rain thrums on. Richie stands at his side. Eddie hates this party. "I... I didn't know..." Richie struggles to find the right words. The rain sounds like static, buzzing, hissing, calming. Richie should leave Eddie to enjoy this peace but he doesn't. "I didn't mean for this to happen." A heartbeat passes in time with the bass. Eddie finally answers, his words quiet, clipped, cold.

"Get lost, Richie." Richie doesn't. Instead, his movements slow, careful, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out two things- a packet of cigarettes, and a lighter. He doesn't waste his time offering one to Eddie, simply lights one for himself and takes a deep, sluggish inhale. All is quiet except for the static and the heartbeat of the bass. With an unwanted wave of vulnerability, Eddie feels his eyes begin to sting. The ocean inside of his stomach, tossing and turning and churning is made of liquid guilt. He feels horrible for failing Stan, for failing Bill, for ruining the party they'd both been so excited for. Richie takes another drag, letting out a cloud of smoke that's ripped away, sent spiraling, by the beating rain. As the party rages on just feet away, Richie stays with Eddie instead of leaving him to join back in on the fun. Eddie hates that he feels gratitude. Minutes pass, and the rain washes away the last traces of warmth. Before he knows it, Eddie is shivering, a gentle tremble that might have less to do with the cold and more to do with how exhausting it is to withhold his stinging tears.

"Here," Richie slides one arm out of his black button-up, passes his cigarette to his now free hand, and then liberates the other. Without asking, he moves towards Eddie, placing the thin fabric around his shoulders to provide as much warmth as possible. Richie returns to his place from before. A few more moments pass when Eddie finally finds the stability to answer.

"Thank you." His cheeks glow pink in the pale, black light, but Richie smiles anyways and simply nods his head. With his lungs clear and that warm gratitude calming the tidal waves of regret, he speaks in a low, quiet, shaking tone. "It seems you can keep your mouth shut, hmm?" This time, Richie laughs, a light chuckle that blends with the bass and the static in a perfect way.

"I'm making a special exception, Eddie. Don't take it for granted." Richie bites on his cigarette. He lets out another cloud of smoke. The rain slices it apart. "But, hey," Leaning on one elbow and glancing Eddie's way through his thick-framed glasses, Richie looks almost nice, "I really am sorry. If I'd known you would been stressed or over stimulated or whatever, I would have warned you." Sucking in a slow breath and letting it out in a sigh, Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pulling the black button-down tighter around him.

"It's fine. I should have handled it better.- I'm the one who should be saying sorry" At that, Richie quirked a brow.

"It's asthma, you can't really control it- unless that's some sort of super power." As an after thought, Richie added, "Pretty lame one if you ask me." Eddie held a hand out into the rain, soaking in the biting cold of each drop. It streamed down his hands, off of his fingertips.

"No, it's... it's all bullshit. Nevermind." A heartbeat passes, "You shouldn't smoke. It risks lung cancer." Silence yet again. Richie didn't ask to leave, and didn't make any move to. Once he finished his cigarette he dropped it to the ground beside him and crushed it under his heel. The two simply stood, side by side with a few feet between, looking out into the rain and soaking in the peace. The party continued on behind him, but Eddie couldn't care less. While Stan and Bill were enjoying themselves, so was he, to a degree. Richie's normally overbearing aura had calmed, dulled, softening around the edges so now it wasn't as much a bright yellow as it was a soft red.

"Eds?" Richie asked in a questioning tone, not shattering the fragile silence but rather parting it like hanging vines, "Can I make you a deal?" Eddie nodded his head. "Come by and buy coffee every once and a while and this whole ordeal is forgotten, no hard feelings. I'll make you my signature drinks on the house to apologize to you, and you come by and chat with me every few days to apologize to me." Letting out another sigh, Eddie said,

"Yeah, fine."

"And don't call me Eds."

[virtueangel]

limitless.

chapter six.

wc: 2,242. original publish date: october 10, 2020.

Van Gogh and JFK slouch in the diner booth, eating silently. Kennedy keeps opening and closing his mouth, wracking his brain for something to say so the quiet doesn't crush them like an incinerator. Every time he inhales, moving his lips to form a word, Van Gogh gives him a warning look before nibbling another one of his fries. It's too early in the morning for something so salty, but Van Gogh thinks he can handle it.

This time when Gogh glares at JFK, he ignores it. "Look, I'm sorry. I just-"

"Forget it, Kennedy."

"No, it's-"

"Stop. Just stop. I won't call you-" his breath catches. "I won't call you by your first name again. We'll be Van Gogh and Kennedy. I'm sorry I said anything at all." He chugs down his ice water. He places a palm on his head, massaging his scalp to coax the brain freeze away.

JFK opens his mouth to return, but thinks better of it. And just like that, he's fighting with his best friend again. All because it was someone's stupid idea to get rid of John and Vincent; Jack and Vinny when they were really little and Van Gogh still believed there was good in the world.

Van Gogh and Kennedy sit in the silence for the rest of the meal. For once, neither boy is reaching for something to say. The lack of conversation is by no means comfortable or companionable, but Van Gogh doesn't let it lift. JFK pays the check as usual, and they leave the restaurant, walking side by side. Kennedy slows his stride so Van Gogh can keep up, as he always does. Gogh doesn't thank him. He never seems to notice. This is another one of their quotidians, one of their unspoken truths that they don't break even in the heaviest of fights.

The earth will shatter the day they step out of their routines.

***

"Can I have the map?" JFK asks after awhile, eyes fixed on the open road in front of them. They've been driving for an hour since the diner, and still haven't seen a single other car.

"I thought this was our unplanned trip," he replies halfheartedly, but opens the glove compartment anyway.

"It was, until Weird Joan told us about Marshtown." JFK glances at his best friend, and when he doesn't reply, he adds, "We don't have to go if you don't want to. I get it if you changed your mind. We can just go back to Exclamation!."

"No," Van Gogh says too quickly. He sighs and relaxes. "Here."

"I can't look at it while I'm driving."

"Then why did you ask for it?" Van Gogh's eyes narrow.

JFK exhales. "Sorry. Do you know where the exit is?"

He trails his finger down the map, stopping for a second only to move some hair out of his eye. "Exit four-thirty-five. Not for a while. Still, like, forty miles."

"The girl at the inn made it sound like it was close to Blackbox."

Gogh shrugs, folding the map but keeping his hand on it. "I don't know. Maybe she and her boyfriend wanted to leave the town behind."

"Or maybe her boyfriend lives there," Kennedy suggests.

And just like that, the boys are talking again. The tension has unwound itself from their necks; the air is light enough to breathe.

"I don't think I'd drive all the way out here to look for a boyfriend," Van Gogh says before quickly adding, "Not that I'd ever be looking for a boyfriend."

"Maybe he went to Blackbox to meet her."

"I doubt that too. I wonder how that town even got built."

"I don't think anyone lives there," Kennedy claims.

Van Gogh's eyes widen and he turns to his best friend. "Really? You think all those well-maintained houses are just for show?"

Kennedy shrugs. "It's possible that they're not houses at all. Maybe just cardboard. Weird Joan said they don't get visitors."

"But why would they do that? Build a whole town out of cardboard?"

JFK thinks long and hard, biting his lip. He chews the inside of his cheek, wishing he had some gum. Why hadn't be brought any gum? "I don't know. But those houses were awfully photocopied."

"My neighbourhood is photocopied," Van Gogh counters.

JFK shakes his head. "Not like Blackbox. I mean, yeah, they all have the same floor plan and the same paint on the outer walls, but they're still personalised. I mean, some of your neighbours have benches on their lawns or swings on their porches. Some have potted plants lining their driveways, others have signs in the kitchen windows. I guess all of this is to say that your neighbourhood, while bland, and, well, Americanised, still looks lived in."

While Kennedy says all this without a glance toward the passenger seat, Van Gogh is mesmerised by his sudden burst of sophistication, eyes glued on the body's side profile and blinking in bewilderment.

"Okay, what has been going on this week? This is the second time is as many days that you've given me a perspective on something that isn't superficial."

JFK smiles, exposing his Colgate model teeth. "Mostly I just think about what you'd say to me if the roles were reversed because you've always got some smart shit to say."

Van Gogh looks away, flattered. His cheeks glow pink and warm. "Not that smart..."

Kennedy looks at Van Gogh now, glad there are no cars on the road so he can slow down in the far left lane without worrying about causing a crash. "Yes, that smart. You speak the way you paint."

Van Gogh's face feels as fiery as his hair looks. "I'm just trying to live up to the real Van Gogh."

JFK smiles now, but it isn't his usual arrogantly flirtatious look. "He'd be proud."

Van Gogh looks away.

"He would be."

Vincent, he wants to say. Call me Vincent. But while Kennedy is tragically intelligent, he can't read minds. Maybe that's for the best. Maybe Van Gogh would stop thinking altogether if he could.

***

Van Gogh falls asleep in the silence. Kennedy doesn't mind. He presses the power button on the radio, turns the volume down low, and flips through the stations until he finds something that won't disrupt his passenger's slumber. He finds driving in silence during the daytime insufferable, so he lets the classical violin consume the car. He keeps an eye on Van Gogh, but he doesn't react to the music. He might not have noticed at all. Kennedy gives the boy one last once-over, his eyes washing the boy's pale hands and his healthily long fingernails and the way his wrists flow out from the cuffs of his letterman jacket, like he belongs in it. Even though he'd gotten mad at Kennedy, he never took off the layer. JFK always tells Van Gogh it's his jacket now despite the stitching on the back, but he knows Van Gogh still thinks of it as Kennedy's. That's flattering in its own way, though JFK would never tell him.

Minutes or hours pass; Kennedy isn't really sure. He starts to think that maybe he's missed the exit, but he looks up to read the signage and he guesses they're still a good twenty miles from four-thirty-five. But the car needs gas at some point, and by the looks of the gauge on the dashboard, that time is now. JFK makes his way over to the right lane, checking his mirror and activating his turn signal even though he knows there are no cars on the road. Even in his drowsy state, Van Gogh can hear the organised ticking of the blinker, and it soothes him.

Kennedy successfully exits the highway, as seamlessly as the last time. JFK, while a notorious speeder, is an embarrassingly clean driver.

He pulls into a gas station. This one doesn't look as murderous as the one in Blackbox, thankfully. He opens his car door and hops out of the vehicle, coaxing it shut so he doesn't wake his best friend. He does anyway.

"Shit! Sorry, Gogh."

Van Gogh waves him off. "It's, what, 1:00pm? I probably shouldn't be sleeping in the middle of the day anyway."

"What time did you end up going to sleep last night?"

Van Gogh thinks for a second before shrugging. "I don't know. You fell asleep before you said I had to, and I probably stayed up after the bedtime you set for me. Which, by the way, don't do again." He glares playfully.

JFK punches one of the gas options and inserts the pump into the car before turning back to Van Gogh. His hair is messy and falling over his face. One of his cheeks is dusted a light shade of pink against the paleness of his skin, probably from being pressed up against his seatbelt as he napped. Kennedy grins.

"Sorry. I just don't want you to turn into an insomniac."

Van Gogh scoffs. "I already am an insomniac."

"You get that from your dad."

"Which one?" Van Gogh asks absently, already knowing the answer. He doesn't have anything in common with his foster father. He barely even remembers what the man looks like.

The pump cuts off with a low groan and Kennedy removes it from the car. He screws the cap back onto the gas tank and shuts the flap, shiny and red as the rest of the convertible. He inserts his credit card into the machine and punches some numbers before it beeps. He sits back in the car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel before buckling his seatbelt.

"Don't you think it's sweet that I care about you?" He asks without looking at his passenger.

Van Gogh smiles, but turns his head toward the window so JFK can't see. "No. I just think you don't want to be responsible for my dead body if I die on this road trip."

Kennedy laughs, and it's genuine and from his chest. It's not often that Van Gogh sees his best friend laugh with authenticity; usually he just laughs at his own jokes, shallow and cruel.

JFK doesn't say anything else.

***

"Do you miss her?" Van Gogh asks suddenly, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket sleeves.

"Who?" JFK replies, though he already knows.

"Cleopatra."

JFK shrugs. "Haven't really thought about her."

Van Gogh's brow furrows. "Don't you feel bad about that?"

More shrugging from Kennedy. "She's not my girlfriend."

The redheaded boy sits back in his seat, no argument for that answer. He's heard it a million times, like the only reason JFK won't ask her to be his girlfriend is so he'll have that excuse to be shitty to her. But then again, maybe he's only shitty to her because she's not his girlfriend.

"You never ask about Cleo," Kennedy says after a couple seconds. "I thought you didn't like her."

Now it's Van Gogh's turn to shrug. "I don't really know her, so I guess I can't legitimately dislike her, but you know I hate everyone." He hesitates before adding, "Except you, of course."

Kennedy smiles broadly, flattered by this answer for some reason. Of course Van Gogh likes him -- they're best friends. They have been since they were in kindergarten. "Gee, thanks," he hesitates, deciding how to address the boy. He leaves off a name completely. "I'm quite fond of you as well."

Van Gogh shoves his best friend playfully, but can't help but feel that there's something he's not saying. Why hasn't he been making his quick-witted, eye roll-worthy, meaningless sexual innuendos? Why hasn't he made any crude comments about wanting to fuck various girls they've seen so far on their trip? Weird Joan was attractive. So was the diner hostess. Kennedy's missing a piece -- or maybe this is all of him, under his façade, away from all the people he feels he's competing against.

Kennedy has never had to compete with anyone for Van Gogh's attention. In fact, Van Gogh feels like he's had to fight for a sliver of JFK's time his whole life. Now that he's finally getting it, he feels stale. He lets conversations fall flat, expecting JFK to pick up the slack.

"We haven't even been gone twenty-four hours," Kennedy reminds the boy.

Van Gogh smiles, but there's something sad in his eyes. "I know. But I'm sorry I'm making you leave your life behind."

"You're not-"

"Actually, that's not true. I know it's not." He turns to JFK. "More than that, I'm sorry I don't have a life to go back to."

Kennedy doesn't say anything for a couple minutes. He pulls off the highway and stops the car on the shoulder. He leans over the centre console, hesitantly at first, and wraps his arms around Van Gogh. Alarmed by the gesture of affection, Van Gogh freezes, but quickly warms up and reciprocates the hug. He feels all the muscles in JFK's back under his palms, the broadness of his shoulders in his arms. He hugs his best friend tighter and closes his eyes, the scent of his deodorant and aftershave and shampoo filling up his nostrils and clouding his head. He squeezes his eyes shut so violently they prickle, and tries to capture this moment in time, wishing there were a way to take a photograph with his mind.

"You'll always have a home to return to," Kennedy says.

They keep hugging each other, not sure if the other wants to let go.

"Vincent," he adds in a voice so small it can barely be considered a whisper.

[sidecarghost]

Suptober20 - Day 21 Fear Part 1

HighSchool!AU with a little bit of Soulmate trope - this AU has a phone app that can tell you the fears of your soulmate

Part 1/2 (part 2 is an epilogue that kind of changed the feel of the story enough that I decided to split into separate post)

Summary: Dean wants to get Castiel on a date and asks his best friend Charlie for help. Charlie tries to convince Dean just to talk to Castiel, but Dean is sure that Castiel doesn't even know he exists.

“Please Charlie, have some pity on me,” Dean laments tragically. He sits at the lunch table across from his best friend Charlie. He attempts his best puppy eyes to help his cause.

“Just talk to Castiel or I can talk to him. Your plan to rig his soulmate app results is so bizarre. I really can’t believe it has any chance at working,” Charlie counters.

“You just need to have faith, and I’m sure you can do it Charlie. Please don’t abandon me in my hour of need,” Dean begs his friend.

“Okay, okay enough with the guilt trip. You owe me after this Dean. But I’m not hacking Cas’s phone. We share a CompSci class. I’ll just ask him to beta test a soulmate clone app that will be loaded with a few random things you can try to be scared of,” Charlie explains.

“Thanks Charlie, you’re my hero,” Dean smiles enthusiastically.

“I’ll work on the app later, and text you after school,” Charlie tells Dean as she picks up her lunch tray and leaves the cafeteria. Dean floats to his next class with complete optimism that this plan will work.

~~ Later on, Charlie texts Dean ~~

Charlie: How is this for the list of your fears for the soulmate clone app?

Clowns

Cockroaches

Opening up to people

Germs

Demonic Possession

Cat jumping out of locker

Dean: Really “opening up to people?”

Charlie: Yeah, you can walk up to Castiel and tell him that you like him, and you were scared to tell him before. And then we can skip the rest of this bizarre plan.

Dean: Not happening.

Charlie: Okay, then back to our overly-complicated and sure-to-fail plan. How about this list?

Clowns

Cockroaches

Public speaking

Germs

Demonic Possession

Cat jumping out of locker

Dean: Okay this will work, and I have some awesome ideas how to pull them off. Cas is in a few of my classes, so I just need to do some prep and everything will run as smooth as a drive in the Impala.

Charlie: So what are you thinking?

Dean: my awesome plan:

When I see Cas at bus drop off area, Garth can help scare me with a clown mask

During our HomeEc class I'll put a cockroach in my pie batter to scare me

Presenting our projects in civics, I can do a mini panic attack or something

During gym maybe I can get someone to sneeze on me and then overreact

I have a charm from my Uncle Bobby that he said would ward off evil spirits according to lore. But since monsters aren't real I'm not sure how that one will work.

Who has cats at school? I don't think this one will work, can you take it off the list?

Charlie: Ok, so 4 is probably enough, but ig wear your evil charm just in case. And you have totally grossed me out with #2.

Dean: hey, the things we do for love right? I do feel bad for the pie batter tho.

***

Charlie makes her soulmate clone app, and she asks Castiel if he wouldn’t mind beta testing it during their Computer Science class. Castiel looks at Charlie with a fair amount of skepticism, but Charlie is his friend so he decides to indulge her request and installs the app. Charlie tells him a story about how she hit the original app with some machine learning algorithms to feed her clone app. So her soulmate app should be just as reliable as the original. Castiel figures they can just test that theory by opening the original app and seeing if the fears listed in both the original app and Charlie’s app match. Charlie sighs, and says that is very sensible, but she thinks her algorithms may have actually found flaws in the original app, so the results could be different because hers are more accurate.

"Really you think your app could be more accurate Charlie?” Castiel asks with a heavy amount of skepticism. “As in, there is actually a chance that a random generator on some server, is in fact not random but knows who we are destined to be in love with. I don't think soulmates are even something I believe in, do you believe in them?"

"Well, I never used too," Charlie replies thoughtfully. "But I have a friend, and he has been pretty unlucky in love. Maybe some people just keep striking out, because they really were meant to be with one particular soul. And until they finally end up with that person, they just have a lot of heartbreaks and casual flings. Seeing my friend struggle, is enough to make me think that sometimes, cupid can be a soulmate app. Or maybe I'm cupid in this metaphor and the soulmate app is my arrow, I'm not sure. But anyway, I guess what I mean is, romance doesn't only have to exist in romcoms. Sometimes we can let go of our fears, and believe in some greater force like destiny or soulmates or a very efficient machine learning algorithm will find us something we never knew we were missing, like the love of our lives."

"It sounds like your friend is lucky to have you," Castiel says.

"Yeah, he totally is," Charlie smirks.

"So what can I do with your soulmate app to help you and your friend's cause?" Castiel asks.

"Just look over my soulmate app results to see the kind of things that it lists as your soulmate’s fears, and I guess let me know at the end of the week if you found your soulmate, potential soulmate, or at least someone worth a date or two," Charlie says sheepishly.

Castiel checks the clone app results and laughs, "Okay, Charlie I'll keep you posted."

~~

Charlie: Castiel has the app. Good luck! Dean: Awesome! Tyyyy!

~~

Dean is not having good luck with these fears, and is beginning to think Charlie may have been right calling this plan too bizarre or complicated to succeed.

The first failure was the clown. Everything was going smoothly. Castiel was walking by him after leaving the bus drop off, and Garth jumped out with perfect timing wearing his creepy clown mask. But before Dean could say a word, Sam started screaming like a kid possessed. It was all Dean could do to calm his kid brother down and show him that it was just Garth playing a prank. Sam gave Dean and Garth the ultimate bitchface, and any hopes of that fear establishing his soulmate status with Castiel were gone.

Then there was the crisis with the cockroaches. For some reason, Garth was able to give him a cardboard box of several large cockroaches. And Dean was feeling pretty good about his chances of success, because Sammy wasn't there to scream bloody murder at the bugs. But when he went to get the cardboard box he found it empty. As the emptiness of that box registered in his brain, the shrieks from Meg and Jo's station gave him a good clue where the cockroaches were. Dean shook his head, and he looked over to see Castiel watching Meg and Jo take their rolling pins to squash the bugs. "Crap, now Cas is going to think Meg or Jo is his soulmate." Dean was definitely going to have to sell some panic for the Civics presentation.

But it seemed that fate was mad about Dean trying to rig the soulmate clone app results because the Civics presentation ended as the worst failure so far. Dean and his Civic project partners Anna and Kevin had taken their place at the front of the class. Dean checked out Castiel, who was seated in his desk and watching him and his partners attentively. Dean ran through in his head how he could nervously drop some things and sell the whole paranoia for public speaking. While Dean daydreamed a bit about Castiel's sexed up looking hair, he was snapped back to reality by the sound of vomiting coming from his left. He turned to see Kevin had upchucked all over Anna. Apparently Kevin was actually afraid of talking in front of people and that stress had affected his digestion. And it turned out that Anna was a bit of a germaphobe, because she seemed equal parts afraid of catching a disease and disgusted that her clothes were stained in barf.

Dean was faced to admit defeat, every fear meant to establish him as Castiel's soulmate had slipped through his fingers. And unless a demon suddenly appeared he was out of options.

Gym class was the last class he shared with Castiel. Dean was not going to bother to try to get sneezed on. Seeing Anna covered in upchuck was enough germs for one day. His gym teacher told the class to run laps around the building, and Dean began to run at a steady pace.

"Hello Dean," Castiel had run up alongside Dean and matched his speed so they could chat.

"Oh, hey," Dean turned to see Castiel had a slight smile and that was enough to encourage him to return with his own smile. Maybe Dean should try Charlie's original advice and just talk to Castiel. "How's it going Cas?"

"Pretty good. How's your brother? I think I saw him get upset on the way in to school today," Castiel says.

"Oh, he's okay," Dean grins sheepishly. "He is afraid of clowns, and I kind of had this prank idea with Garth. But since I can be a self-absorbed, older brother I didn't really think through how that would affect Sammy."

"Yeah, it seems like there has been plenty of weird stuff going on at school today between the clowns, cockroaches, and vomit," Castiel says cocking an eyebrow at Dean.

"Tell me about it. Sometimes I just wish I could hit a restart button, and start the day over without all the weird," Dean shakes his head.

"You know Charlie Bradbury right? If it was possible to program a restart button I would talk to her," Castiel replies. "We are in Computer Science together, and I think she knows more about the subject than our teacher."

"Oh yeah, I know Charlie. We have been best friends since kindergarten," Dean tells Castiel. "And I have no doubt that she is smarter than your Computer Science teacher."

"Do you mind me asking what that charm is on your necklace?" Castiel asks.

"Oh, just this thing from my uncle. Supposed to ward off evil things or bad spirits." Dean tells Castiel.

"I guess that would be a good thing to wear if you were afraid of demon possession," Castiel deadpans.

"Uh..." Dean finds himself at a loss for a response. Dean has the sneaking suspicion that Castiel has figured out everything about “beta testing” Charlie’s soulmate app. He considers changing course from circling the school, and instead running flat out the entire way back to his house. Maybe Charlie can get him an assumed identity.

Before Dean has a chance to flee, Castiel continues the conversation. “Do you have a cat in a locker somewhere?" He asks with interest.

"Of course not," Dean tries to hold back a laugh and fails. "Charlie was supposed to take that off the list. So I guess you found me out." Dean glances towards Castiel to get a read on his expression.

"Well, I did tell Charlie I'd give her app a chance," Castiel replies with a soft smile towards Dean. "Would you like to go on a date with me later? Maybe we can find out if we are soulmates or not."

"Yeah, Cas," Dean says with a dazzling smile. "I really would like that."

[wickednerdery]

Title: The Guest Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: The Night Manager Pairing/character: Jonathan Pine/OC Rating: Teen Summary: “You go alone? At this hour?” Notes: This is something that’s been bouncing in my brain for, like, almost a year (on-and-off)…still not sure I have more than snapshots, but it finally came out onto paper just now lol!

First Chapter

Pine jolts awake, covered in sweat with tight chest and pounding heart. If he didn’t know what it was, if he’d not had them over the years, he’d have thought it a heart attack. He groans himself up, swings legs over edge of bed and puts head between. He runs through the hotels he’s worked in to himself, skipping only the Nefertiti. He repeats them over and over until some semblance of calm returns. Then Jonathan sighs. All that work on setting a routine, putting the past behind him, undone by one little incident. Hopefully it’s a blip, a singular attack, and not the return to a nightly pattern. 

With deep sigh he stands, tosses on swim trunks and hoodie. He knows he’s not going back to sleep, not after that, so he steps into trainers, grabs keycard and towel, and heads out. He takes the nearest exit, walks the grounds outside, to reach the pool. He’s still shaking slightly as he folds and sets clothing on plastic chair.

Breath is visible in the chill of the morning. The ocean hums in the distance, crickets carry on, but the daylight has yet to reach the grounds. Jonathan enjoys the privacy of it, takes in cold air until his shivers only come from the exhilaration of it. When he feels ready, feels right, Jonathan discreetly dives in.

He lets out his shock at the cold, his lingering frustrations, while still underwater. Screaming bubbles surface before he does. Looking around there’s nothing but increased birds chirping and sun finally cutting through the trees. He is still alone, blissfully, but terribly, alone. Jonathan goes under again, his back skimming the surface as he does laps until he hasn’t the air to continue the pace.

“Was the gate unlocked?” She asks with neither amusement nor upset.

Jonathan turns to find her at the other end of the pool. “Yes.” Then his face goes troubled. “I’m sorry, is it not open?”

“Apparently, it is.” Kay’s lips finally lift as she starts to walk towards his end. “I told May to lock it before bed, I should’ve checked.” So much for giving her daughter more responsibility at the hotel.

“I do apologize.” He starts to get up, out, the steam of warm body hitting cold morning rising from his skin. Muscles stutter and tense in the cold, but he presses on.

“Don’t worry about it.” She grabs a pool towel for him. “I’m sure Mrs Regan had her best morning here.” Kay tosses towel with a smile.

He catches it with confused look before following Kay’s eyes to a balcony room overlooking the pool just as its door closes. He chuckles. “I hope this doesn’t count as making trouble in your hotel, Ms Lin.”

“Oh no, Mr Ashland, this is entertainment.” She laughs. “Would you care for any coffee, Mr Ashland?”

“You may call me, Jonathan, if you wish.”

“Alright then, Jonathan. I’m Kay. Coffee, Jonathan?”

“Perhaps we can have one together?”

“I’m going for a run.” Only now does he realize her outfit, the athlesuire wear and trainers. Hair usually tightly wound is more relaxed, in ponytail. “But I can get the coffee before I go.”

“No. No, it’s fine.”

“Okay then.”

He towels hair, watching her start to go, before being unable to help himself. “You go alone? At this hour?”

“Always.” She senses his implication. “Don’t worry, the biggest risks are the early morning drivers and I've got my reflective jacket for that.”

“I could...join you?”

“Are you asking or offering?”

“Whichever offends you less.”

Kay smiles, indulges him and her own curiosity. “Tell you what, lock up for me here, get dressed, and meet me at the main desk.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh, god, no,” she laughs. “No, no, don’t ever call me that. I start getting “ma’am’d”, I won’t know what I’ll do with myself!” Kay’s laugh lingers even after she’s back inside.

Jonathan chuckles, makes sure the padlock is secure in place, and heads back to his room with a smile. He doesn’t bother to ask himself why he made the offer, if that’s what it was. He’s not yet willing to dwell in the possibility he’s lonely or scared after his night terror. Jonathan is not thinking on whether or not he wants to be with her or just anyone. He just knows he wants to jog with Kay and that if he lets her go alone he won’t feel right the rest of the day.

***

They run together and alone. Enjoying shared silence, each one in their own head, as they move side-by-side, in synch. Pine thinks about his troubles, if he might ever outrun them. Kay thinks about the ones coming if the men return before she can find a safe place for Ricky.

Pine stops when Kay does, panting with her down at the center of town. He straightens up, looks around, then smiles. “Coffee.”

“Coffee.” She smiles, slips in with him behind as she catches breath. “Morning Joe!”

Joseph beams. “Every time.”

“Without fail.”

“The usual?”

“Yes, also...” She turns to Jonathan, expectantly. 

“Just a medium coffee, black, please.” There’s a plethora of options on a separate counter, he’ll adjust for himself.

Kay shrugs. “You heard the man.”

“What about a treat for our favorite month?”

“No, just the coffees today.” She won’t to reward May’s shoddy chore work.

Back outside, coffees in hand, they walk the shuttered town. Jonathan scans for threats, listens for cars and dangerously important conversations...all those things he can’t stop doing nowadays. It isn’t until Kay settles onto a bench at the main bridge that he lets himself relax a touch beside her. He keeps to one end, her on the other, with enough space for ten coffees.

“Are you still keeping your reservation open-ended?” She asks, sipping the overly sweet latte she favors.

“If that’s all right.”

“Of course.”

“I am sorry about this morning.”

“Are you this apologetic naturally or is it the years of customer service?”

“A bit of both, I suppose.” He smiles into the rising sun. “How long have you run Squall’s End?”

“About five years. It was my parents, but they retired and left it to me.”

“Are they still alive?”

“Yep, just moved down to Florida. They said it was part of their American dream.” She laughs a bit. “We stay with them during most the winter, when tourist season ends here.”

“I see.”

She looks to him. “If you’re still around, I’ll find you accommodations until we return, don’t worry.”

“No, no, it’s no trouble.”

“Exactly. No trouble.”

He smiles, sips his coffee. He holds himself back until he finishes the cup. “Those men who dropped by yesterday -”

“I told you, I don’t discuss and I don’t ask.”

“Will they be back?” He presses on to the point. “Will you and your daughter be in danger if they do?”

Kay isn’t sure how to answer, isn’t sure she has the answer. She focuses on her coffee, only responding when she senses him shifting in preparation to speak again. “Men like them might threaten, intimidate, but they won’t do anything to get on police radar.”

“Are you certain of that, Kay?”

She gulps cold latte, stands with a sigh to toss cup in recycling, then looks down at him. “It’s not something you need to worry about, Jonathan. You’re my guest, not the other way around.”

He smiles up at her, she smiles back. They both know he’ll worry anyway, that he’s already worrying. He’s just that type.

**

Apparently writing the first one unleashed more so...yay? So, the new OC’s full name is Kai-Lee Lin, but goes by Kay because it’s easier. She’s Asian-American, moving to the States with her parents when very young then becoming a citizen (probably around her teens/20s). Her daughter, May, is about ten or eleven and I’m sure she’ll show up later. ...And that’s all I’m saying for now lol! 

(Gif found from Google!)

Tagging Who Might Care: @lady-crowned-with-stars @holykryptonitekitten @ultrarebelheart @chibiyanai @beccaliciooouuusss​​ @michellearel1​​ @sweetfictionalworld @lukeevansandjdmobession @lokilvrr @rizzo87 @alexakeyloveloki @wintertink @moonfaery @annievvv7 @creedslove @wadeyouwitch @cassadius @tarithenurse​ @kellatron55​ @coppercorn-and-cauldron​

[flutteringphalanges]

                                    Caught in a Riptide

Summary: After the infamous Count Dracula is discovered and taken into custody by the Jonathan Harker Foundation, former nun and now guardian to her young niece, Zoe, Agatha Van Helsing is tasked with keeping tabs on the vampire after a mishap leads to his release into modern day society. Can Agatha remain levelheaded, or will fate turn her onto a new path?

Pairing: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rated: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Ah, what a way to finish the first school week--a brand new chapter! I hope you enjoy! I am pleased by how long it is! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated--reblogs too! My brain is mush so now I shall go an Netflix! Enjoy! -Jen

                                                   Chapter Eight

"Why can't I come?"

The seven year old glowered at her aunt as Jack moved around in the kitchen retrieving the ingredients needed to make slime. Normally creating such a monstrosity would've excited the child, as Agatha usually forbade the stuff in the house, but Zoe seemed more concerned about the woman's agenda with the vampire. After all, she found Dracula fascinating. A potential friend-though, not truly understanding what he really was.

"It's a trip for adults." Agatha sighed, grabbing her purse. "Besides, you get to visit with Jack. You're always talking about him coming over."

"Yeah." Zoe replied, hands on her hips. "But he's not Mr. Dracula."

"Zoe, that's very rude." Her aunt chided-but thank god for that. "You apologize to Jack now."

"Sorry." She muttered under her breath, rubbing her feet against the floor. "But can't I come with you, please?! I promise to be good! 'Sides, Mr. Dracula is new here! What if he gets lost? He might need my help!"

"He won't and he certainly doesn't need anything from you." Agatha realized the harshness in her tone and inhaled. "Zoe, listen to me." She bent down to meet her niece at eye level. "You'll have more fun here with Jack. Mr. Dracula…" Her nose scrunched at the name. "And I have business to attend to. It'll be very boring, I guarantee it."

"And I brought glitter." Jack added, smiling as he picked up a tiny, sparkling container. "It's rainbow!"

"Just try not to get it everywhere." Agatha snorted, pecking Zoe on the cheek. "Have fun you two and don't get slime on my furniture. It took forever to get out last time."

"Okay, Aunt Aggie." The little girl exhaled. "I love you! Tell Mr. Dracula I said hi!"

"I love you too." The woman replied, knowing very well she wouldn't be fulfilling her niece's wishes on the second part. "Be good for Jack."

She tried not to think about how big of a mess her kitchen would be in when she returned. However, all concerns about that immediately dissipated the moment she stepped outside. There, standing on the curb, was none other than Dracula himself. He gave her a toothy grin as he opened the passenger door. Agatha's eyes flickered to the driver's seat where Frank Renfield gave her a nervous smile and a quick wave. There was no way in Hell. Not a single, solitary way in the underworld she'd be getting in a car with him where she wasn't in control of the vehicle.

"I thought it would be best if we had a chauffeur." The vampire explained, motioning for her to get in. "That way we can get to know each other even more." He chuckled and gave a small shrug. "Not to mention he knows his way around just as much as you do. Now we don't have to worry about you being distracted when we drive."

"I didn't agree to this." Agatha replied firmly, folding her arms. "Any of this."

"Oh come now, Sister Agatha." The Count called out smugly. "Live a little-well, one of us has to."

Just the very look of Frank's expression sent chills down her back. He wasn't a threatening man, at least in a physical sense, but something about him didn't settle right. And it didn't help that there was a valid reason that this had been constructed alongside Bloxham. At least she wasn't the driver, everything was unbearable enough as it was.

"Fine." The woman resigned. "But we stick to the approved locations, no detours." Now that she thought of it, she hadn't exactly gotten the list of places they were going. "Just get in so we can get this night over with."

"Ladies first." The vampire bowed, motioning for Agatha to step inside. She knocked purposely hard into his shoulder as she climbed in. His mouth twitched into a sneer as he slid in beside her, much to her discomfort. "I think we're ready to go to our first stop." His eyes met those of the former nun. "The Prospect of Whitby!"

Agatha barely acknowledged Frank's sheepish greeting as she stared with great fixation out of the window. She could feel Dracula watching her, waiting for her to finally turn around and address him. But her attention remained glued to the trees and cars that zoomed by as they drove into the inner, more populated part of the town.

"I thought you could use some dinner." The vampire suggested, finally breaking through the silence. "And during my research as well as Frank's recommendations," he nodded to the driver. "This seemed like the perfect location. Did you know tavern itself claims to be the oldest around dating back to around 1520? Fascinating that such a place could possibly be nearly a century younger than me."

"Just because I'm forced to keep an eye on you doesn't mean I'm interested in the history of my basket of fish and chips." She retorted. "And I'm not hungry."

"Nevertheless, we're going in." The vampire stated as Frank pulled up to the curb. "Mr. Renfield, if you'll just wait out here with the car."

"Oh!" The lawyer spoke up softly. "I thought it would be alright if I came in and…"

"Your presence is not needed nor wanted." The Count exclaimed with a dismissive wave. "Come, Agatha, we have a table for two reserved."

If given the choice of publicly eating a meal in front of Dracula or stepping through a hallway of hot coals, legos, and thumb tacks, the last option sounded far more appealing. She didn't take the vampire's hand as he held it out towards her, merely exiting the car and slamming the door roughly behind her. A small part of her felt bad for Frank, a part that felt guilty that he was roped into this night. But the bigger part of her blamed him and she secretly hoped something would happen whilst they were inside.

"Vlad Balaur."

Agatha internally groaned as Dracula grinned at the hostess causing her to blush. If she really knew what she was, that flattered expression would've morphed into one of horror. She sucked in her cheeks as she followed the young woman to a small table with rather intimate lighting.

"Oh, we only need one menu." The vampire explained to the lady. "We're here for her. I have...allergies." And when he spoke, his eyes were fixed on the innocent hostess's jugular. Agatha kicked him hard under the table causing his attention to travel back to the woman's eyes. "Yes, just one will do."

"You're disgusting." Agatha hissed under her breath as the woman walked away.

"So you're telling me that if you saw a divine burger you wouldn't salivate?" Dracula countered.

"What does a burger have to do with anything?!" She replied almost flustered. "And...and it's not like it's still breathing." Frowning, she snatched up the menu and pretended to read it. "How long are you going to force me to sit here before we can go?"

"Until you order something." The man replied simply. "I'll pay, of course."

"This isn't a date!" She snapped, firmly setting the menu down. "So don't act like it is!"

"I wouldn't dream of it." The corners up his lips twitched in slight amusement. "But I am humored that the thought even came to your mind."

Before Agatha could retaliate, a waiter approached the table. The former nun exhaled softly through her nose and straightened up in her chair. Better not lose it in the middle of a crowd. Bloxham would have her head and Dracula would most certainly enjoy that.

"Can I start you off with anything?" The man asked, looking between the two. "Might I recommend the fish and chips? We are known for having the best in Whitby. Fresh cod caught today!"

An interesting thought came to Agatha's mind. An idea she didn't consider until now. Forcing a smile, she picked up her menu once more. Dracula had offered to pay after all. Who was stopping her from ordering the most expensive items available?

"I'll have the eight ounce sirloin." She read out loud, her eyes scanning the drink section. "And the Champagne Lallier Grand Cru Grande Réserve Brut-the full bottle." Agatha grinned at the waiter as she handed the menu back. "Thank you."

The man nodded and disappeared, leaving the two alone once more. Feeling rather proud of herself, Agatha leaned back a little in her seat as the vampire watched her with great interest. Clearly, it had been a move he hadn't expected. Check mate.

"I thought you didn't drink?" Dracula inquired, a brow raised in surprise.

"I don't." The former nun smirked. "But you offered to pay and I thought it'd make for a nice centerpiece."

"Well played, Agatha Van Helsing." The vampire chuckled, causing the woman to frown a little. "It's not often that I'm surprised. A shame though for such an expensive bottle to go to waste. What, pray tell, do you plan to do with it if you aren't going to drink it?"

"I don't tell my enemies my ideas." She replied, folding her arms. "But I can think of a few things." A thought flickered in her mind for a brief second of her bashing the bottle against the wall and using it as a makeshift stake. "I suppose I'll keep it with me for a special occasion. For now."

"Until then," the vampire answered. "I shall wait with bated breath."

Not long after the wine discussion, Agatha's meal was brought from the kitchen. As much as she hated to admit it, the smell was heavenly. She thought back to the hostess and wondered if that's what Dracula meant by divinely appetizing. The former nun stared at her steak and tried her best to will herself against consuming it. But oh how it smelled so heavenly.

"The last thing I'd wish to do is make you feel uncomfortable by you eating alone while I merely watch." Dracula exclaimed. "But I think you'd prefer that over me joining you in my own matter."

Absentmindedly, the former nun picked up her fork and poked at the juicy meat. Tender. Cooked to perfection. There was a reason this place had lasted for centuries. Slowly, she cut herself a small piece and pushed it past her lips. Then another. And another.

"A glass of wine to go with that?" Dracula smirked.

Agatha merely frowned around her utensil and continued to eat until there was nothing left. Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she set it upon the empty plate. Maybe she'd take Jack or Mrs. Avery here some time to thank them for watching Zoe. For now, she dreamed of nothing more than leaving the damn place. Whether or not it was her imagination, the lights seemed to be dimming around them.

"I'm glad to see you mostly enjoyed your meal." Dracula commented as he flagged the waiter down. "I'll pay, as promised. Perhaps next time you can pick the restaurant?"

As her fingers gripped the neck of the bottle, Agatha had to refrain from bashing the thing on top of the vampire's head. Not surprisingly, Frank was still seated out front in the car just as they had left him. A light drizzle began to spill from the sky and Dracula miraculously produced an umbrella. He held it out towards Agatha who immediately rejected it. Rolling his eyes, the man found his place in the car beside her.

"So we went to a historic tavern." Agatha exhaled, looking to the vampire. "Is that not enough of an adventure for you for one night?"

"Not quite." Dracula admitted. "I said I had an itinerary, Agatha. I really did mean it." He could see the look of detest on her face. "Alright, for you, I will compromise. I just ask that we go to two more places and then we'll call it a night. Do we have an agreement?"

"I don't suppose I really have a choice in the matter." The former nun exhaled in defeat. "Fine, two more places, then you're taking me home and leaving me be." However long that would last.

"Sounds reasonable enough." The vampire nodded. "Frank, if you would."

The rain began to fall harder as the pair, along with their driver, drove in awkward silence. Out of the corner of her eye, Agatha noticed Dracula fiddling with some app on his phone. As he continuously swiped his index finger across the screen, her curiosity got the better of her.

"What are you doing?" She inquired, craning her neck to get a better look. "Is that...is that a dating site?!"

"Well, I suppose if one chose to use it as such it could be." The vampire replied simply, locking his phone. "But from what I've learned it can be used for other reasons."

"You mean sex." And her nose crinkled at the thought of him screwing anyone. "If you're…"

"I'm not, nor do I plan to." His eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror where Frank stared back at him intently. "At least for awhile. I understand the rules. However, there is nothing in the bylaws that says I can't at least explore my options. Whether they be sexual or flavorful." The vampire's lips curved into a suggestive smile. "Temptation is one of the greatest sins, Agatha. But I am sure as a nun you are well aware of that. Or...rather were."

"Well, your account will be tracked nonetheless." Agatha said quietly, ignoring his attempt at provoking her. "I'm sure Mr. Renfield will see to it. Bloxham would want to know." Her eyes locked on to Frank's. "As a precaution."

"I haven't decided which best describes your treatment of me yet." Dracula chuckled as the vehicle began to slow in front of a building. "Am I a child or a prisoner to you? Perhaps both? Your nagging behavior might otherwise irritate me, but tonight is for excitement." And with his hands, he gestured to their next stop. "Behold!"

At first, the former nun thought she was seeing things. As she exited the car, she once again forwent Dracula's umbrella. The rain poured down in heavy torrents soaking her hair and clothes. But that was a concern not at the top of her mind.

Agatha's lips pressed into a firm line as she stood alongside Dracula outside of Pleasureland Amusements. When the vampire had insisted they spend the night exploring what Whitby had to offer, she hadn't expected to be coerced into going to an arcade. A place where she begrudgingly had taken Zoe more than once for a friend's birthday party.

"Perhaps I should've read up on this more." The vampire commented, breaking the silence. "I assumed Pleasureland meant something quite different." His eyes flickered to meet hers. "You should have said something."

"I should have said something?!" Agatha scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "You are the one who picked this place out. I assumed you knew what you were doing."

"Well, you are the one who is supposed to properly introduce me to the town after all." Dracula countered with a smirk. "I could've easily gone alone, but that would breach some form of the contract–on your side." He shrugged and through her a false sheepish look. "I suppose we better go inside then. See what you humans call entertainment nowadays."

The former nun rolled her eyes as the man began to walk towards the entrance. "I'm tired of playing games with you!" But he merely waved his hand dismissively before disappearing into the crowd. "Arsehole…"

The sound of the rain was immediately placed by the excited, shrill cries of patrons and whirling games as Agatha stepped into the building. It was almost overwhelming. She stood in this world of towering machines that flashed and flickered, beckoning for her to draw closer and take her coinage. It wasn't until someone grabbed her by the forearm that she snapped to.

"Looking for me?"

The Transylvanian Count grinned at her, illuminated from behind by a pinball machine. Agatha pulled away and sucked in a breath. She hated it here, and quite frankly despised it even more. But this was for her job. This was for Zoe. So if she had to suffer by playing sticky games and cramming endless tickets into her pockets, so be it.

"What do you want to play?!" She nearly had to scream over the chao sound. "I know you are going to ask, but I have no preference."

"Actually, this one piqued my interest." Dracula replied obnoxiously cheerful. "This way."

She followed him, still dripping wet and slightly cold from the elements outside until they stood in front of a game. The timeless classic Skeeter's Ball. One is given a certain number of balls and you attempt to roll them into holes with different amounts of points in an attempt to get a high score. Agatha had never been good at this game. On one occasion, she rolled a ball so hard it flew and hit someone on the back of their head. Maybe that was one of the main reasons she couldn't stand this place.

"You go first." The vampire said as six balls rolled down. "To demonstrate."

"Okay." Agatha sighed, lifting up the weighted object. "But I'm not very good at this." With that, she gave the ball a hard roll. Not to her surprise, it landed in the lowest hole-100 points. "I told you. Now you go."

With lightning speed and precision, the vampire stepped forward and aimed for his target. The ball barely bounced before it landed in the center, 500 points. Agatha gawked as Dracula beamed with pride at his accomplishment.

"Beginner's luck!" She insisted, snatching up another ball before thrusting it into his hands. "Try again!"

Just as before, Dracula rolled and landed the bonus hole as before. As the game chimed in congratulations, the former nun frowned, feeling oddly competitive. Suddenly, she felt Dracula move behind her.

"What are you doing?!" She snapped, completely caught off guard.

"I'm assisting you." Dracula said, taking a hold of her forearm. "Trust me, you look rather pathetic rolling like that. Allow me to show you how it's really done."

The vampire's grasp was firm, but not strong enough that if Agatha so chose to, she could break away. Lifting up a ball, she allowed him to ease her wrist forward, fingers curled around the ball. When she finally let it go, it rolled smoothly up the ramp before landing in the 400 point hole.

"Not too bad." Dracula nodded, letting her go. "Perhaps if you practice for a few centuries, you'll be as good as me."

"Apparently living several centuries also increased your ego." Agatha snorted, trying to hold back a smile. "What next?"

"Hm…" The man pondered as he looked around. "Now that looks worthy of our attention!"

Agatha turned to see a large claw machine filled with plushies of all sorts. She pictured Zoe standing right in the center, her bright blue eyes lit up in excitement. The things were usually rigged, from her experience at least, but this was Dracula's place of choice so she didn't argue against it.

"How enthralling." Dracula murmured as he studied the throttle. "What an odd contraption!" He turned to Agatha with a grin. "What shall I aim for?"

She shrugged. "Something close to the top or near the drop box. If it looks crammed, don't go for it. It's hard to even win something." Her lips pursed as she watched him stare at the game in complete wonder. "Be strategic. I suppose like you're in battle."

The vampire straightened up and smirked at her words. "For that, I shall win you that purple blob looking thing."

The former nun gave a half smile and rolled her eyes. "That's supposed to be an elephant...I think." She paused. "And you don't have to win me anything."

"Then it'll be a gift for Zoe." He replied, gaze now fixed on his victim. "And you don't have to tell her that I won it. I know how you are. Though I wouldn't ever hurt her…" His fingers delicately maneuvered the throttle. "It's been over a century since I've done such a thing…"

Agatha felt her stomach twist at the thought of his words. For a brief moment, she had forgotten about what he was. As she opened her mouth to question him further, to her shock, he managed to snag the toy. The vampire let out a triumph 'ha' as the object fell down the chute and into the box.

"I have many hidden talents it would seem." Dracula exclaimed as he retrieved the toy. "I believe this belongs to you."

Slightly hesitant, Agatha accepted the elephant from the vampire. She looked it over somewhat turned off by it's sickly cute appearance. Exhaling, her attention returned to Dracula. Clearly seeing she was growing weary of the place, the Count cleared his throat.

"One more game." He posed, nodding towards an air hockey table. "And I promise it will be worth your while."

Out of all the games, this one seemed to be less populated. Agatha set the elephant down and stood on one side of the table. Dracula smiled at her, his hand already on a paddle. The game was pretty self explanatory which made the former nun question why he'd choose it to be their last.

"We will play the game as usual, but bend the rules just slightly." He instructed. "Whoever makes a point against the other player gets to ask them a question. Any sort of question. Personal or not. And the loser must answer." Dracula gave a knowing smirk. "And while I could easily find everything out about you in a matter of seconds, this seemed like a fun start."

She pushed away the eeriness of his words. "Alright then." She nodded, gripping her paddle. "You're on."

It didn't take long before the puck found its way into Agatha's hole. Not that she was shocked by that loss. Grumbling to herself, she retrieved it and placed it back in the center.

"Ask away."

"Have you always been in Holland? Or were before England?" Dracula inquired. "I know Abraham was Dutch, so after everything he decided to go back to the lovely land of windmills?"

"Yes," Agatha admitted. "I was born in Holland and stayed in Holland until Zoe's parents…" She shook her head. "Well, now I'm clearly in England. Again."

The next round lasted a few seconds longer than the first with Agatha scoring the goal. However, she knew Dracula had intentionally planned it that way. Still, it was a chance to ask him a question he couldn't refuse.

"Why are you afraid of the cross?"

Dracula let out a laugh so loud it just about startled the woman. "Come now, Agatha." He snickered in amusement. "I ask you something easy and you go ahead and cut right to the chase. Well, I suppose I shouldn't expect any less coming from you." He sighed as he studied the puck between his fingers. "Have you thought about what the cross stands for?"

"Of course." She replied curtly. "I was a nun. It stands for goodness and virtue and…"

"No, Agatha, no…" The vampire exhaled, rolling his eyes. "I was hoping you'd see the broader picture of it. When you look at the cross, really look at it, what do you see?" He doesn't wait for her to reply. "War. Fear. This internal feeling in your gut that you must not slip up on your endless virtues or will fall into the ever grabbing hands of damnation. That, my dear Sister, is why the cross is frightening. Or, so the many, many, hundreds of men and women I haven consumed over the centuries think."

"But why does it hurt you?" The woman asked. "Why…"

"You already got your answer." Dracula cut her off with a smile. "Next round."

She lost. Almost immediately. And she didn't need to look up to know Dracula was grinning widely. It was her turn to be interrogated and since she didn't go easy on him, now he was going to use the same power against her.

"Why did you become a nun, Agatha?" The vampire asked. "Out of everything, why that profession? Surely there were some more interesting options...a librarian perhaps?"

"I did it with the intent of learning more about you." She attempted to appear focused on a nearby pinball game. "From the stories past down about my grandfather, I thought perhaps going through religious texts might serve some purpose."

"And did they?" The Count questioned. "Or have you received more than your fair share about me from the Jonathan Harker Foundation?"

"That's more than one." She challenged, eyeing the puck in the center of the table. "Next round."

Thus the game continued, Dracula and Agatha posturing one another for information. It wasn't until the vampire scored once more, the puck flying into its intended target, that things began to take a turn.

"Why won't you let me talk about Zoe?" The man inquired. "It's oddly endearing of how overprotective you are of her."

"I just don't think it's appropriate." Agatha responded tersely. "I'd prefer to keep my home and work life separate."

"And I fall into the work category…" Dracula nodded thoughtfully. "She is an interesting child. Something rather unexpected must have happened to her when she was really young."

It was clear that the vampire was trying to worm another question in by making it sound like a remark. The car crash flickered in the back of the woman's mind as she took a step back from the table.

"I have a question." Their eyes locked as Agatha began to speak. "What do you mean that if you could, you could easily know anything and everything you want about me in a matter of seconds?"

The Count folded his arms. "You didn't make a goal."

"And I'm done playing games." Agatha responded firmly. "What is it that you are hiding, Count Dracula? And how and why does it involve me?"

"I should ask you the same." The vampire answered. "I believe we are equally fascinated by one another. However, I too think I'm done with these games." He glanced towards the door and smiled. "I promised you one more location. It's getting late, for you at least. We should make it there while it counts."

"But I…"

"Poor Frank's probably wondering if we've abandoned him." Dracula exhaled, clicking his tongue. "A smart man, but rather meek. Mousy. Best not keep him on edge." Once more he produced the umbrella. "I suggest you use this now. Best not get Zoe's new toy wet."

As Dracula had predicted, Mr. Renfield seemed very relieved upon their return. He eyed the stuffed animal on Agatha's lap curiously before pulling away from the arcade. The former nun reclined back on her seat, thinking of the scraps of knowledge she'd gathered from Dracula and how she could possibly piece them together. It wasn't until the car pulled to a stop that she snapped back to reality.

"Last stop of the night." The Count grinned as he stepped out of the car. "Saving the best for last."

Agatha's eyes traveled upwards to the sign on top of the building. Raw Nightclub. Heat rose to her cheeks as she looked herself over. In a pair of jeans, old shirt, and hair wet from the rain, she was in no condition to go into any establishment of class, let alone a nightclub. The restaurant and arcade had been hard enough. But before she could protest, the vampire was already on his way inside. Biting back a groan, she hurried in after him. Fucking blood sucker.

The chaos in the arcade was child's play to what was happening in the club. Smoke, multicolored flashing lights, mixed with the smells of sweat and cheap perfume. The music, whatever was playing, vibrated the floorboards as a pale hand extended towards the former nun. Agatha looked to see Dracula offering her a toothy grin.

"Agatha Van Helsing." He bowed, completely out of place to the DJ's upbeat remixes. "May I have this dance?"