#it took hours of trying to convince myself and then someone else telling me ill be okay just to play the game for a little bit

[skaluli]

"this wulf fellow has choice language"

[erimeows]

Feverish

You were surprised to have been called to the med bay a little bit past nine in the evening, woken up by your phone ringing and Ratchet on the other end. You clutched your robe close to your body as you raced through the hallway, sleep in your eyes and worries in your head.

The lead medic had given you no explanation, only telling you to come meet him outside of the med bay as soon as you could before he hung up on you.

You wondered if it was an emergency, if someone was injured or dying, if something had happened during patrol- Wait, no. Their night patrols didn’t start for another hour or so, and if it had been an emergency, someone like Bumblebee or Optimus would’ve called you in a panic.

Still, the whole situation was weird, and you were worried, so when you saw Ratchet outside of the med bay leaning against one of the walls, you immediately approached him with your concern etched in your features. 

Upon seeing you, Ratchet stood up straight, then put a strong servo on your shoulder in a reassuring manner before looking down at you. His pale blue optics burned into your (e/c) eyes, and though you tried your best, you couldn’t read his expression.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the medic spoke.

“Optimus Prime has fallen ill.”

“What?” You immediately sputtered, and your eyes flew to the door of the med bay; closed, you couldn’t even see Optimus. You just prayed that he was okay. In the time that you’d known the Prime and his team, you’d seen him injured or sick plenty, though the former was much more common. He never prioritized his own health and tried to push himself to do things, even when he was unwell, so he took forever to recover... Hopefully it wasn’t something severe. “How bad is it? Is he awake? Have you told the team yet?”

“Hey, hey, slow down. It’s nothing crazy, (y/n), so don’t worry,” Ratchet’s words, said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone, soothed you, if only a little. If it were serious or ‘crazy’ as he put it, he would’ve told you directly instead of lying, so you believed him. “This morning, I was the first to wake and go into the kitchen to make myself an energy booster when I saw him stumble in... As in, he was literally stumbling over himself and I could see steam rolling off of him from overheat. He insisted he was fine, but something was off, so I dragged him to the medbay for testing. He’s low on energon and coolant, he was overheating, and there was a minor glitch in his vents from some battle damage that I had to fix. He’s recovering fine, but my main concern is that his chassis seems to be overheating to kill an infection. I think it’s just your run-of-the-mill space bug based on the labs I did, so I gave him some antibiotics.”

“You didn’t answer some of my questions-” You started, now concerned with whether you could actually go and see Optimus or not.

It wasn’t uncommon for the red and blue bot to ignore his own needs, but for him to have ignored symptoms that could’ve turned into something much worse had Ratchet not caught them... You wondered if there was something bothering Optimus that was making him neglect himself, more than he usually would.

“So demanding, you youngin��s,” Ratchet huffed and rolled his optics at you. “It’s not that bad, he’s awake, and no, I haven’t told the others yet. Our nightly patrol is soon and I have to break the news to them somehow, which is why I called you here. You can’t go with us anyway and they need me since we’re down one bot, so I want you to stay with Prime. He responds the best to you...” You blinked and then blushed at that, (s/c) cheeks burning bright. It was true that you and Optimus were close, but for Ratchet to acknowledge it like that... Well, you were flattered. You’d loved Optimus for as long as you could remember, and even though Ratchet surely meant that in a platonic way, it was nice to know that the effort you put into your relationship with the bot meant something. “His condition isn’t from a decline in his physical health- I had to pry like hell to find out what it was, but Prime finally broke and told me that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten an energon cube or ran a self-evaluation to make sure he was functioning properly, which is why he’s energy-depleted and why the damage to his vents went unchecked. He’s so stressed from the leadership that this team needs that he isn’t taking care of himself anymore, and now, it’s led to him falling sick again. I think there’s something else going on in that processor of his, too, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else... I just know it’s more mental than anything.”

You stopped, frowning. What else could Optimus be hiding from everyone? Was he doing something dangerous? Had something happened? Was he breaking down from stress?

“O-Oh.. Okay,” You mumbled and leaned into the servo of Ratchet’s that was on your shoulder, sighing when he ran his thumb over a sore spot on the groove between said shoulder and your collar. The two of you had developed a close bond over the past couple years since they’d been on earth, with you, Sari’s tutor and caretaker, also acting as a second medic for the team with Ratchet’s training. While he’d trained you in how to care for the Autobots, you’d given him the basics of human anatomy and medical care, so with that time spent together, you were close- whether the old grump admitted it or not. “What about his medicine? How often does he take it? Is there anything else I need to do?”

“One pill every six human hours, they’re the white gel capsules that are rationed out on the table by Prime’s med-berth. I just gave him a dose, so don’t get him another one until three in the morning. He also needs to drink plenty of energon, coolant, and lubricant to get better, so make him do it, even if he gets pissy with you- shove it down his throat if you have to... But those are all things that I already told him, and he’s fully capable of taking care of himself. I don’t need you in there to take care of him so much as I need you to stay in there to make sure he doesn’t get up and do anything stupid. You know how he gets when he’s sick.”

“Unfortunately, I do...” You let out a long sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. It was going to be hard dealing with Optimus- hell, you could already imagine how he would be trying to sneak out of the med bay to go on patrol or trying to make you bring paperwork for him to do. You wouldn’t allow either, but considering how much larger he was than you, you’d have to convince him to relax instead of just being able to hold his aft down like Ratchet or Bulkhead could. “I’ll make sure he stays put. I’m assuming you’re taking over leadership until he recovers, Ratchet?”

“As the team medic, I’m second in command, so yeah... I have to. I’d let Prowl do it, but Primus knows he doesn’t want to, and I wouldn’t let Bumblebee or Bulkhead within a ten mile radius of any form of responsibility like this. I’m really the only option.”

“Right...” You imagined what a patrol without Optimus, led by a stressed and grouchy Ratchet would be like, and then cringed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

With that, Ratchet withdrew his servo from your shoulder and waved at you before turning around and walking down the hallway. You figured that Optimus shouldn’t be left alone for too long, so you quickly entered the med bay and shut the door behind you.

It was dark, with a small night light plugged into the walls that illuminated the room just a bit. You could see Optimus, who looked uncharacteristically pathetic, weakly laying on a med berth with a small side table on the ground next to him. On the table were some energon sticks, a cup of coolant, and the white pills that Ratchet had mentioned. 

“(y/n), is that you?” Optimus asked, trying to sit up, but immediately groaning in what you assumed was pain and flopping back down. His eyes squeezed shut, a strained grimace taking over his face-plates. You pulled one of the stools by a wall-counter to the side of the room where Optimus’s berth was and put it right by his side table so you could sit by him. You were close to his face, so you leaned down to look at it as his optics slowly opened back.

He was sick, and it would take at least a few days if not a week to recover; you could tell just by looking at him. His ocean-hued optics were abnormally dark and foggy, his powder blue faceplates were stained dark with heat, and though he wasn’t steaming like Ratchet had described this morning, there was definitely still heat radiating from his frame.

“Yes, Optimus, it’s me... I’m here to watch over you,” You leaned in to kiss the top of his helm, able to feel just how hot the metal felt against you. When you pulled back, you frowned at the absurd amount of heat- almost hot enough to make your lips sting, while Optimus’s normal temperature was a bit cooler than that of an average human’s by a degree or two. “Ratchet called me down here and told me what’s going on a bit ago. The team’s on patrol right now.”

“Slag, I can’t believe Ratchet told you,” Optimus groaned again, this time in annoyance instead of pain. “I told him not to earlier when he was fixing my vents... He’s probably going to tell the rest of the team, too. I have to get up and go supervise the patrol-” He forced himself to sit up this time, forced back a wince, forced his optics to open fully, but the second you pressed a rushed hand to his chest plates and attempted to push him back, he froze.

“Oh, no you don’t!” You argued, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as a pout formed on your face. 

“Oh, yes I do!” The Autobot argued back without hesitation, but didn’t actually move to push your hand away or leave even though he was fully capable of doing so, only resting one of his servos on the one of yours that was on his chest- stumbling and overheating or not, he was much larger and much stronger than you. Then again, he probably knew that Ratchet would beat him to a pulp the second he recovered if he dared lay a single digit on you to escape the med bay. “As much as I appreciate the concern, I don’t want it nor do I need it, and I certainly don’t want it from my team. It’s bad enough that you know. I know they’ll start asking questions when I don’t go on patrol with them, and if they hear that I got sick from overexerting myself and not getting enough rest and energon, they’ll never let me hear the end of it-”

“Well, maybe that’s what you need, so lay your stubborn ass down! I did not come here with my hair all fucked up and in this stupid robe in the middle of the night when I could’ve been sleeping just to have you run away from me when I’m trying to take care of you! You getting up right now just drives home how bad you are about prioritizing yourself,” Optimus’s plump and normally soft lips, now chapped from dehydration, pulled together into a tight frown- it was the face he made when he knew he was in the wrong. “You’re getting out of your bed when you’re supposed to be resting so you can go lie to your team and tell them you’re fine when you’re not, and for what? Your pride?”

“No, I just don’t want them to worry for me. I’m already stressed out enough and the last thing I need is for that to contribute to their struggles. They’re all dealing with so many of their own problems, and I’m sick of being a burden to everyone around me...”

Optimus huffed, but gave up and laid back down, much to your relief. He still held your hand, though, and you let him- even if he was sick, you didn’t want him to let go.

“You’re not a burden, and just like how they’re dealing with their problems, you’re dealing with yours. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved and respected, and not to insult your acting skills, but... They won’t believe you if you walk out there overheating and struggling to stay standing to tell them that you’re perfectly fine. Ratchet told me how you were stumbling around this morning.”

“I hate that you’re right,” He mumbled, and you wondered why he always had to be so childish when he was sick. 

Then again, as much as you hated Optimus’s stubborn personality, it was a major component of who you’d gone and fallen in love with all that time ago. It was crazy, you thought; just the extent that you loved Optimus Prime to, and how terribly unaware he was of it. You thought it best to keep the fact hidden, as you didn’t know what his feelings were, and he had so much on his plate already... It hurt to think that he didn’t know how loved he was- not just by you, but by everyone around him, who he was always bending over backwards for, completely unaware that they’d do the exact same for him.

“And I hate that you treat yourself like this. Plus, as much as Ratchet threatens us all with consequences for our actions, he’s not going to tell them what’s going on in depth; just that you have a fever and that you’re resting, you know he respects patient confidentiality. He’ll probably even downplay it because he knows that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“No, you’re just trying to reassure me, but...” Optimus paused and let go of your hand, fully settling back into the berth. You took your hand back and looked off to the side, already missing his touch. “I know you want to, and that Ratchet probably told you to spend the night here and take care of me, but I’m alright now. I’ll stay and rest, I promise. You can go to your room to sleep, I know you’re usually not up this late, and I’d hate to keep you up with my problems.”

You didn’t really want to leave him, but you were tired, and you believed his words. His tone was genuine enough.

“Are you sure?” You asked and received a nod in return. So, you stood up and collected yourself. “Okay, if you’re sure... I’ll leave and go get some rest, then come back at three to give you your antibiotics and make sure you’ve got something on your stomach.”

Silence. 

The second you turned around to leave, though, Optimus was grabbing the back of your robe and holding the cloth between his digits, tone low as he spoke again.

“Actually, (y/n), wait... Don’t leave me. I need you.”

You turned back around and looked at him, confused. Hadn’t he just told you seconds before that he was fine and that you should leave to go get some rest so that he could fall into recharge as well? What was with the sudden change of heart? Was there something going on with his physical condition, or was it something else?

“Huh? But Optimus, you said you needed to rest...” You muttered, which earned you a shake of his head in return.

“I will,” Optimus promised. “Please, just stay and don’t question it. I lied to you, I don’t know why, but I can’t be alone right now. Don’t leave me.”

The plead from him was unexpectedly vulnerable, honest, open. You appreciated it, but at the same time, you were concerned about what exactly was going on with him- you felt like there was more to the story than stress and leadership and lack of self-care. While all of that was definitely in character for Optimus Prime, there was something else that he wasn’t telling you about, too. With how close you were to him, it wasn’t abnormal for you to have deeper discussions, but for him to admit that he wanted- no, needed you there with him and couldn’t be alone was something you’d never thought you’d hear in your lifetime.

“Okay, I’ll stay until you tell me to go, then. Thank you for being honest with me.”

With that, you sat back down on the stool and looked at him. A little bit of that light had returned to his optics, but he still seemed like he was in rough shape.

“Thank you.”

Silence again.

Instead of adjusting to get comfortable and slip into recharge, Optimus just sat there with his back against the board of the berth, optics trained on you. It had taken a while to get used to when you’d first met him, but nowadays, you were used to the Prime’s intensity, especially when it came to eye/optic-contact. Still, though, the way he was staring at you now... You couldn’t quite interpret it. Then again, could you usually? Optimus was hard to read sometimes.

“You’re not resting,” You teased, but received a serious response in return.

“I’m thinking, and then I’ll rest.”

“You’re sick, the last thing you need to be doing is overthinking like you always do,” You reached out to him, rested your palm on the side of his face and tenderly ran a thumb over the apex of his cheek. Surprisingly, he leaned into your touch with a smile.

“What if it pertains to you? It’s either I tell you and get my closure, which is daunting, or I sit here overthinking it like I always do.”

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach and flinched. It had been obvious that something was on his processor, but it had to do with you? What was it? Did it have to do with your feelings? Tense, you talked again.

“...Have I done something? I’d rather you tell me.”

“You’ve made me fall in love with you.”

The words were whispered but still felt so loud, filling the room with their impact in a way that made your cheeks hot and your heart beat hard against your chest.

“Your illness must be making you delusional,” You laughed nervously, but Optimus only gave you a sloppy grin and laughed. You moved your hand to the top of his helm to check his temperature, but it hadn’t changed- as much as you wanted to believe it, you were sure he was being serious and not having feverous hallucinations like you’d initially suspected. Still, you thought it proper to ask. “Do you feel hot? Are you overheating again?”

“No, (y/n), I’m just in love with you,” Optimus peered at you, smile falling a bit. “I mean, yes, I am sick, and I’m still overheating, but I’ve been in love with you for- Ah, I’m actually not sure how long it’s been... I just know it’s been too long.”

There was a pause, in which the two of you seemed to be processing what important things were said; in the span of just a minute or two, Optimus had boldly laid his feelings out for you on the table, unabashed and proud, the tension that came with two years worth of pining that you’d been doing solved so... Quickly. You were surprised you hadn’t felt your jaw hit the floor.

Had he really loved you the whole time? Or was this a recent development? Why was he only telling you now? Had his stress over his feelings for you also contributed to his sickness?

“I’m not sure I can talk about this in good conscience when you’re so vulnerable,” You smiled back at him, (e/c) eyes meeting his ocean-hued optics as you removed your hand from his head. Shyly, he reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “It feels selfish, but... I love you, too, and that’s why I want you to rest and get better, maybe not stress out so much.”

You kissed the back of his servo as he pulled it away, earning what you hoped was a blush and not more symptoms of overheating.

“I’d kiss you if I weren’t afraid of getting you sick,” Optimus sighed. You were sure that you probably couldn’t catch whatever he had going on since he was a Cybertronian and you were human, but you didn’t want to test that theory, so you left it alone.

“It’s okay,” You reached out to hold one of his servos in both of your hands, squeezing reassuringly. “I can feel the sentiment. Just focus on getting better, okay? We have all the time in the world.”

“Sometimes I fear we don’t- Have all the time, I mean, and I suppose that’s why I finally broke down and did this- I like to believe I’m impervious to everything around me, but I’ve already died once, and every time I get sick, I always think about what will happen if I go offline without telling everyone around me just how much they mean. I didn’t want to be scared anymore, not when it came to you.”

“I...” You stood and got on top of the berth so you could sit next to Optimus, curling into his side. “Me, too.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” The Prime asked and wrapped an arm around you. Gentle. Strong. Warm.

“Would you like me to be?” You asked in return with a tilt of your head.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll be here,” Optimus looked at you, clearly somewhat doubtful, but you only shook your head with a smile. “I promise, I won’t leave you. Just get some rest, okay?”

“...Okay.”

So, you stayed, and when Ratchet walked in the next morning to see you curled up by Optimus’s side on the berth with your (lip/chap)stick smeared on his servos, both of you sleeping peacefully for once, he couldn’t help but think that Optimus getting sick once in a while wasn’t so bad after all.

[wwwurbunnygrldotcom]

I Dont Want to Grow Up (Doctor!YoongiXNeko!Reader) PT.2

☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡

warning- mentions of malnourishment, being naked in front of someone, honestly this is just really cute. 

(Is this what love felt love?)

☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡

  I grew up without many people looking out for me, yes I had people in my life but were they truly ever there? Now I look back at those memories and it felt like I had loved a ghost, they were so hollow. I think that’s what ached so much, as a child I smiled with no worries, I was so incredibly happy to be where I was. I never would have thought that I would think of them and feel this way, so disappointed. I crave to not have to worry about adult problems. I don't want to have to worry about where my next meal will come from, or what alleyway I'll have to sleep in tonight. I just wish someone would just put me to sleep and tell me they will carry the burdens that have kept me awake for so long. 

  For a long time I spent my younger years with my parents and my grandmother. This did not change until my mother died when I was 5, we had been expecting it for quite some time. Unlike my father she fell ill very easily. I convinced myself that her illness wasn't meant to happen, not by fate, more so someone was to blame. I could blame the doctors for not trying to save her hard enough, or maybe even the scientists who created her to begin with. When she passed I was so incredibly lost, it felt like after she left me everyone else did as well. Father started spending longer hours at work and grandmother’s eyesight was becoming weary. 

  I think that's why I admired Dr. Min so much, ‘admired’? Is that the right word? The way he spoke just left me in awe. He took care of me from the time I arrived at the center until I was sitting on the counter top in the bathroom of his small town house. He made my tea extra sweet after I took a sip and choked a little bit at the dark taste, he was never angry at my response either, he just giggled and added another spoonful. 

  I hadn't spoken much either, I used my body language and prayed that somehow he would just understand exactly what I had to say. Everytime it left me baffled, because everytime he understood. I felt so heard and seen by someone. I kept every little thought inside because in all honestly I didn't know how to approach him. 

  I felt almost embarrassed to be in his presence at times. He had been treating me with everything. He had spoken to me earlier about my injuries and they are a lot worse than I had thought. The pain in my knees wasn't from the fall I had taken on the curb but rather from a lack of enough tissue and fat in my joints. I went too long without eating and now my body was feeling the effects. He had told me that my weight was alarming, even asking me when my last meal had been. He was refusing to allow me to walk distances when my knees were this inflamed, he insisted on carrying me places instead. 

  I began inspecting his house when he had set me down in the living room while he made me a comforting drink to sip on. He had modern looking gray couches facing each other on each wall, a tv in the middle on the side. He had placed these fluffy blankets and little head pillows on the end of each couch. His house didn't feel like a house, it felt like a home where someone lived. The couch felt warm and strangely if you sat there for long enough you could feel all of the emotions he felt while laying here. All the nights he sat and cried over the daily stresses he experienced, all the times he laughed while watching a comedy movie with his friends. There were even coffee cup ring stains on his end table and marked books littered everywhere, everything looked like it was placed to make you feel something. 

  When he handed me the cup of tea after sweetening it for the second time, he walked over to the opposite couch and took his seat. Looking down at the drink he had prepared and taking a content sigh. I used all the focus I had, with the little energy still in me, to listen in on his heart beat. It was rhythmic and slowed, bum bum bum. 

  His hair was a little ruffled now after his shift ended, little strands falling into his face. His glasses were off now and resting on the end table. He was in much more comfortable clothes, his scent was stronger now, practically radiating off of him. In the center you could only smell him if close enough to his wrists or neck, now I can smell every part of him even just from this spot. It was so sweet it almost brought the tears in my eyes to escape down my cheeks. 

  I think whilst I was staring at him he noticed, because suddenly he looked up and caught my eye. He placed his cup down onto the table and pushed his body up onto his feet, walking over and grabbing one of those fluffy blankets. 

  Placing it just over me, tucking in the sides of the blanket around my waist and shoulders. 

  “Here, does that seem warmer?” He turned his head to the side and smiled, I perched up to this question. 

  I nodded my head in response and cuddled my body lower to the couch. I felt the ears on my head fall back from pure relaxation, a vibration in my chest erupting without warning. The blanket was plush and felt like a cloud on my bare legs and thighs, I haven’t felt something this soft in months. I can’t remember even when my tail or hair felt that soft, it had been so long since I had taken care of myself.

  I ran my fingers through my hair, which was difficult seeing as though every so often I'd gotten into a knot. I’d sit there for a few seconds and try to untangle the strands. dirt and dust fell from my fur now that I had spent time tending to it. 

  “Oh, that must be bothering you, hm? Here, I'm sure a warm bath before bed would help you sleep. Would you like that?” Min mentioned while still standing in front of me, I suppose deep in thought I didn't notice he hadn't left. Yes please, I thought to myself. I tried humming in response but I was so eager for his offer it ended up coming out as a whine. “So eager,” he giggled. “Cmon, let's go.”

  He offered his hand out for my tea cup, placing it somewhere it wouldn't spill. He moved the blanket to the side and began to lift me up from under my thighs, one hand under me and the other wrapped around my waist. I instinctively snaked my arms around his neck and hid my face in the crook of his shoulder.  He took cautious steps not to drop me until we reached the cold bathroom, he turned and set me down on the countertop, telling me to wait here. 

  I sat patiently while swinging my legs back and forth to pass the seconds until he’d come back to me. Doctor. Min turned the corner with a white towel and nice smelling bath salts, I think it may have been strawberry scented. Placing the salts on the ground next to the tub and hanging up the towel he began running the bath. Every so often he’d let the water fall over his hand to check the temperature, twisting and turning the knob to the perfect medium. 

“Are you ready, Miss. Seong?” He sighed.

“Hyejin” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“My name is Hyejin” I croaked, I haven't used my voice in hours so it didn't sound so smooth. 

“Well Hyejin, I’m Yoongi.” he gave me the softest smile. “Are you ready Hyejin?”

  I nodded my head and began removing my clothes. I lifted my plain white shirt over my head and began unfastening my bra, being left in my lower body clothing. Lifting my legs was something that brought me so much pain, I was struggling trying to get it off by myself. Yoongi must have noticed this because he suddenly snapped his eyes shut and used his hands to drag my painties off of my thighs, he made sure his hands never touched anywhere they were never intended to touch. He looked up at me and nodded for permission, “May I?” He spoke. Instead of talking I had always used body language to communicate but this wasn't going to slide for him this time. “Please use your words, I need a ‘Yes’ Hyejin.” He was very stern which left me a little speechless. 

“Yes.”

  He grabbed me by the waist, allowing the best support to lift me into the pleasantly warm water. His finger lingered on my skin a little longer than a doctor ever should with their hybrid, though secretly I wished he would have kept them there. I was a little embarrassed to be so bare in front of a man I had only just met but his eyes were never hungry with lust. His eyes never left mine, constantly looking as if he was searching for something in my soul. My face was red and hot because no one has ever shown me this much respect, I felt human when I was with him. 

“Turn around, I can wash your hair for you. Please relax” , reaching his hand out to pet my head with a smile. 

  The moment I had changed positions I heard Yoongi grabbing a bottle for a bath product, I then heard his hands being rubbed together in a fast motion. I felt his fingers run through my hair touching the base of my scalp, without hesitation I leaned into his touch, throwing my head back. And each stroke made a string of vibrations run out of my throat and mouth. He was so gentle with me, making sure no soap had got into my eyes and I was the cleanest I could be. 

  Is this what love felt like? 

[anncanta]

Free will argument

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing, John Seward

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Mature

@alma37 @hopipollahorror @ravenathantum @flutteringphalanges @ladyhaley28​ @dragatha @khyruma​ 

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Zoe's voice trailed off in her head, and Agatha went to the window.

Light rain glittered in drops on the bushes and benches of the hospital park, the evening sun peeped through the rare clouds. Slowly Agatha put on her jacket and dialed the number she found in her grand-niece's phone.

‘Jack, get me out of the hospital. I'm discharging myself.’ It sounded confident. The young man on the other end of the line tried to object, but Agatha said: ‘Hurry up,’ – and dropped the call.

They rode in the taxi in silence. They stopped once – at an antique shop. Digging through Zoe's memory, Agatha found this little store in Soho, selling all sorts of unnecessary trifles along with false antiquities and pseudo-magic nonsense.

Climbing out of the car, Agatha returned five minutes later. Leaning over to the open window, she put the bag with aspen stakes on Jack's lap and, going around the car, got back.

She did not know why she was going to Dracula and did not know what kind of reaction she expected from him. And she really had no idea what she was going to do.

‘You don`t look very surprised.’

‘You don`t look very dead.’

‘I`m getting there.’ Agatha walked through the open door and, staggering slightly, sat down at the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack follow her apprehensively. She heard her own voice telling how easy it was to find Dracula's apartment.

When Dracula grabbed the guy by the throat, Agatha woke up abruptly.

‘Let him go,’ she said, feeling the pain rise inside Zoe's body in a hot wave. Why is she here?

‘Why?’ Dracula turned to her with interest.

The pain squeezed her chest and then gone. Agatha swallowed.

‘This is England,’ she said, catching her breath. ‘Conversation preseeds dinner.’

So little time, Agatha thought, looking at how Dracula threw the young man away and, turning to her, leaning with both hands on the table. Almost unconsciously, she mirrored his pose, inside fleetingly noting that she had never been in a more stupid situation.

Except when she died aboard the ship, which she herself blew up, hoping to kill the vampire. Agatha frowned, shaking her head. She needs to concentrate. She thinks about the wrong things.

‘– waiting for someone?’ Jack's voice came to her through the fog in her head.

‘Lucy Westenra.’ The name of the girl Dracula killed brought Agatha back to reality. She raised her head. ‘Do you expect her to rise up and come to you? I have to disappoint you – she was cremated.’

Agatha was surprised by Dracula's reaction. Anger, disbelief, irritation – and a shadow of horror suddenly replaced each other on his face. Did he really feel something for that child, Agatha asked herself distantly. Most likely, however he just…

Dracula's ferocious monologue was interrupted by a sharp ringing at the door. He paused, looking first at Jack, then at Agatha with a victorious smile.

‘You underestimated... hmm... vampires' liveliness,’ with flashing eyes, he said and went to open. He turned around halfway. ‘Dr. Seward. She was your friend, wasn't she?’

Agatha spent the next half hour desperately battling nausea, pain, and fear. The scene with the ill-fated, half-burned Lucy was disgusting, and Agatha almost regretted bringing Jack with her.

It is better for old acquaintances to meet in private.

‘...at least she died well. This is a rare quality, believe me.’

Agatha shuddered.

‘Quality or taste?’ she asked, turning to Dracula.

‘Oh, taste,’ Dracula nodded mockingly. ‘Her taste was unique. I've never seen anything like it before. It was as if she was in love with death.’

‘That`s it!’ Having doused Agatha simultaneously with pain and heat, understanding came. ‘That`s everything.’ She looked at Dracula, frozen in bewilderment. She turned to the tear-stained youth. ‘Jack, go away.’

‘Dr. Helsing, I can't…’ he protested. ‘I will not leave you…’

But Agatha did not listen to him.

‘I need to speak to Count Dracula. It's very personal,’ she said, looking Dracula in the eye. ‘He wouldn’t want anyone else to hear it.’

‘Why not?’ Dracula asked.

‘Because now I know exactly what you fear most,’ Agatha said. She straightened, returning his victorious smile. The pain receded, she suddenly felt at ease.

‘Well, I don’t know,’ Dracula looked at her with childish delight.

‘I know you don’t,’ Agatha replied.

‘Dr. Seward, you may leave,’ Dracula said without turning to Jack.

‘Get out,’ said Agatha.

She glanced at Jack. He looked at her questioningly, as if he expected her to explain everything to him and tell him what the hell was going on here. Agatha sighed slightly.

To tell the truth, she was not sure of anything. Least of all – how what she just realized will help.

‘Today is going to be a beautiful day,’ she said to Jack with her eyes pointing to the curtained window. Deciding that he understood her plan, the guy nodded and left, finally leaving them with Dracula alone.

For some time after his departure, Agatha stood with her head bowed. Pain, faintness, and weakness returned again. I can't do it, she thought.

For just a second, she let go of the expensive tabletop, on which she was leaning so as not to fall, and found herself in the center of some kind of hurricane. She was hugged, held close to Dracula, and he showered her face with kisses. Agatha froze, slightly stunned from all this and from amazement without even trying to escape.

Dracula hugged her with both hands, stroked her head, touched her vertex with his lips.

‘I missed you... I missed you so much,’ he whispered into her hair, laughing.

His lips were unexpectedly warm and soft and he was strong and she was so tired. So confused, so worn out. A stranger in this time, in this place, in this life, and in this body. Pressing her cheek to his shoulder, Agatha briefly allowed herself to just be where she was. She felt good.

Unexpectedly, this thought sobered her.

‘Let me go,’ she said emphatically. He, oddly enough, obeyed instantly. ‘What do you mean – you missed me?’ looking up at him, asked Agatha.

‘That means that I badly wanted to see you.’ He smiled. Agatha frowned in annoyance.

‘You set it up. Zoe... you offered her your blood.’

‘She wanted it herself.’

Agatha flared up.

‘Do not try to confuse me!’

‘It's not that easy to do.’ He took her chin. ‘Agatha,’ he said, looking at her carefully, ‘tell me what you understood about me.’

This simple request uttered without irony and the usual mocking subtext suddenly made all her diligently accumulated anger disappear.

Walking around Dracula, Agatha slowly, overcoming sharp spasms twisting her body, went to the curtained window. She raised her hand and jerked the curtain down.

After waiting for the fuss and screams to subside behind her, she turned around.

‘It`s one hundred and fifty million miles away. What would it do to you?’

Dracula sat on the floor, shielding his hand from the sun, and looked blankly.

Suddenly softening, Agatha walked over. She dropped down next to him.

‘Have you ever thought,’ she asked, ‘why are you the only one of your... kind who is afraid of the sun? Why could Jonathan stand it and why was the girl in your basement not afraid of it? Like the cross, by the way. And Lucy Westenra, by the way, came here before dark.’ Agatha watched his expression slowly change. ‘Why?’

He frowned.

‘I do not know. I thought it was –’

‘Just habits,’ she said. ‘The things which you taught yourself to be afraid many centuries ago, so as not to think about the most important of your fears.’

She turned around, leaning her back wearily on him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, and in some incredible way, this gave her strength.

‘All your fears lead to one,’ Agatha said, closing her eyes and throwing her head back on his shoulder. ‘Lead to the fear of death. You are a warrior from an old line of warriors, and therefore you hate this fear and are ashamed of it. That's why you came up with all your superstitions and signs.’ Lord, the pain was terrible. Agatha grimaced. ‘Simple as two times two.’

He kissed her again, now somewhere on the cheek or temple. Agatha did not have the strength to resist and argue: Zoe's body was slowly fading away, she every minute waited for the blessed night to fall on her.

Agatha did not remember her last death. Her awakening in the twenty-first century was abrupt and rather awkward. Waking up in a body that she shared with a frightened and lost grandniece, Agatha spent the first few days looking around and trying to understand what was happening and what to do with all this. It was not easy to establish contact with Zoe – she was exhausted and stubborn, overflowing with a sense of guilt. It took three months before her weakened mind was able to listen to something other than itself.

Agatha reproached herself for missing the time. Perhaps she should have been more persistent. Perhaps then young Lucy Westenra would be alive.

It was easy to explain to Zoe why Agatha went to Dracula. Much harder – to explain it to herself. She did not have any means and even physical strength to fight him, and no support, except for a frightened young man, gripped by double grief – because of the loss of his beloved and a friend he was about to lose. Why did she do it?

Because there is free will in the world. Agatha smiled without opening her eyes, remembering how she argued about it there, in the wine cellar, with Dracula. He convinced her that she was looking for violent passions and great adventures, deliberately choosing the dangers – and he believed that she was right in this. Her position, however, rather confirmed his words – even if Agatha did not know what exactly was happening, one thing was obvious: he kidnapped her and kept her with him.

‘What would await you in the monastery, Agatha?’ he said during one of their conversations at chess. ‘Monotonous days, hard work, and prayers to someone you don't even believe in.’

‘I believed in Him thanks to you,’ Agatha answered, and he smiled incomprehensibly and strangely.

Agatha opened her eyes.

‘I lost,’ she said quietly. ‘I lost because I teased the wolves.’

‘I wouldn't jump to conclusions,’ there was a whisper in her ear, and the warm lips moved down to the base of her neck. They played and teased and caressed her until…

‘Will you ever leave me alone?’ Agatha asked, looking up from the chess table in front of her. She opened her mouth again, about to say something harsh, and suddenly realized that the pain was gone. During the three months that Agatha spent in Zoe's body, the pain became so familiar that it was as if, after the even creaky sound that tormented her day and night, there was suddenly quietness.

She looked at Dracula. He sat without saying a word, as the last time, demonstratively clutching a glass of blood in his hand.

‘It's poisoned,’ Agatha said, pointing to the glass.

Dracula was still silent.

‘What do you want?’ Agatha asked almost plaintively. Confusion and fatigue hit her at once. Dracula put the glass on the table, stood up, walked around it, and stopped in front of her.

‘Agatha,’ he said softly. She got up. He smiled. ‘I want to offer you... a choice.’

Agatha frowned. It didn't take a big mind to understand what he meant. Zoe's blood was poisoned, but apparently not enough to kill him. She looked into his eyes.

‘Either I will finish you off, and your death will be quick and easy,’ Dracula spoke her thoughts out loud, ‘or let me convert you.’

The last word made her recoil. Turning away, Agatha walked around the small room several times before remembering that it was impossible to escape from it. Desperately, she looked at Dracula. He stood where he was, not trying to speak to her or stop her. And that moment she clearly realized that he would not force her.

She went up to him again.

‘I have about ten minutes left to live,’ she said softly.

‘That's enough for me,’ Dracula assured her. ‘Although, judging by your blood, you have at least two weeks.’

He was serious. And it was more frightening than all his previous bullying. Agatha ran her hand over her face.

‘You want to make an animal out of me. If only to save me, and you could continue to play with me, you are ready to make me a primitive creature driven by hunger.’

‘I'm glad that you think so highly of me.’ Now in the voice of Dracula, there were familiar, risible notes. ‘But your prejudices prevent you from seeing the essence. At this time, the vampire no longer needs to be a hungry animal,’ he said impatiently. ‘You don’t even have to kill to live. My lawyer delivers blood to me at my first order. Given the required parameters and the talents that I am looking for. Yes, he is quite inventive,’ Dracula smiled in response to the dumbfounded expression on her face. ‘You don’t have to hide, you’ll no longer be an outcast. It would be all the joys of this world before you, including the sun.’ He raised his hand and stroked her cheek. ‘Hate me, if you want, leave me by slamming the door – whatever you want, please. But allow yourself to use this chance.’

Out of place, Agatha imagined what would have happened if she had actually stayed in the monastery. Probably, she would have lived a peaceful life, which would have found its completion in a modest cell on the slope of long fruitless years. She looked at Dracula. He tore her out of that life by the roots, throwing in the face of the self-confident and naive nun the consequences of her own impulsive actions. He killed her, returned her after one hundred and twenty-three years, and offers her... a life without him. Shaking her head, she laughed.

‘Why are you sure that you will succeed?’ she asked without preamble. ‘If I remember correctly, you told Jonathan that most of those whose blood you drink die. How then are you going to?..’

‘Jonathan helped me understand how simple everything is,’ Dracula replied with a smile. ‘And difficult at the same time. Free will, Agatha,’ he said, seeing that she still didn't understand. ‘It's all about free will.’

Agatha frowned, but not because he was now literally quoting what she was thinking.

‘Lucy… you told her something… that in four hundred years she was the first to give you her blood voluntarily. She wanted you. She wanted to stay with you. Like that girl in the basement, probably. But Jonathan,’ Agatha said immediately, ‘Jonathan definitely didn't want that. He begged you to let him go.’

‘He wanted to leave me,’ Dracula agreed. ‘But also – before he died, he swore that he would do everything in his power to stop me. But what could an exhausted, almost drunk dry, sick person do to me?’

Agatha's eyes widened.

‘To fight you, he had to become your equal,’ she said, barely audible. ‘He became a vampire because he wanted to.’

‘Like everyone else,’ Dracula nodded. ‘It's a pity that I realized this so late.’

Agatha just brushed aside another dark joke. Turning away from Dracula, she stared ahead of her for a while.

When she looked at Dracula again, her gaze was direct and open, and she did not need to say a word. He already understood everything.

The next thing Agatha saw was the sun's rays. They shimmered, shone, covered her body from head to toe, spread a sheet of bright light under her. Fascinated by this incredible sight, she did not immediately realize that she was naked and was lying in the arms of a naked Dracula, who touched her shoulder with a kiss.

‘It always seemed to me that the conversion had to be... painful,’ she gasped in amazement.

Dracula smiled, looking up.

‘After all this time, did you think, I`d let it hurt?’

[lunnybunny12]

Young Snape x Ravenclaw reader

All characters are in their 5th year at Hogwarts. Reader is a ravenclaw (A/N I am a Ravenclaw so...YES!)

"Y/N!" Lily said shaling you violently. "Y/N wake up!"

With a groan, you opened your eyes to see the redhead hovering over you with a mischievous smile on her face. "Come on, were going to Hogsmeade today."

"Who let you past the Ravenclaw knocker, Evans?" you giggled, rubbing the sleep out of your eye and yawning. The Ravenclaw house was infamously known for letting Ravenclaws and ONLEY Ravenclaws into the common room and since Lily was a Gryffindor, she definitely didn't get in on her own.

She faked shock as she dramatically placed her hand on her chest, with a gasp.

"(Y/N), I'm shocked that you assumed I had help."

You looked at her with tired eyes, you knew her too well.

"It was Xenophilius Lovegood"

"Now that makes sense" you replied to her in a groggy tone. Standing up from your bed, you grabbed whatever clothes you wanted to wear that day. "But I can't go, you know my "guardians" didn't sign the slip."

Lily's smile grew even wider as she handed you a piece of paper. You took a glance at the paper and quickly put two and two together.

"Oh my god, you didn't" you said snatching the sheet out of her fingers and opened it.

"No, I didn't. Sirius did."

On a once blank line at the bottom of the permission slip was now filled in with your guardians signature.

"H-how did?.."

"Don't ask me how but... he did. Now hurry and get dressed the boys will be halfway through breakfast buy now"

Time skip (your in your regular clothes and just entered the great hall)

The smell of toast and pumpkin juice hit the pair of you right in the face. It was breakfast time and buy the looks of it most people were still asleep, leaving all of the good stuff for the taking.

As you and Lily walked to the 4 marauders, you felt a pair of familiar eyes watching you. When you saw it was Severus Snape you smiled and gavehim a small wave in wich he shyly gave you one back.

Even as children, you and Lily had always been together. You found out you were witches together and you met Severus together. And despite his home life he was the kindest person you had ever met. When you found out you were going to the same magical school as him you were over the moon and so was he. When you actualy got to Hogwarts the 3 of you became as thick as theaves but when you met the marauders he slowly became distant with you ... it broke your heart.

"Ah here are the lovely ladies now," James said with a gleeful smile.

"What took you so long?" Sirius said, standing from his seat to allow room for Lily and you.

Lily gave them an apologetic smile and sat nest to James who took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her.

"Sirius, I owe you a favour" you said showing him the permission slip with a smile.

He gave you a cheeky smile and said with outstretched arms " How about a hug and we call it even?"

"Sounds like a deal,"you smiled as he pulled you into a hug. It lasted for about a minute until you felt eyes on you again. When you pulled away, you saw that Sirius was looking behind you with a smug grin on his lips. You followed his gaze to see Snape with a broken look in his eyes.

With a hint of anger on your face, you turned back to the curly-haired wizard. " You know, Sirius. Being an arrogant git doesn't suit you one bit" you hissed, tapped Lily on the shoulder, told her you'd see her in Hogsmeade and made your way out of the hall.

After giving your slip to Mcgonagall, you began your walk to Hogsmeade before everyone else. You knew the way since you had been before. The walk was quiet and it was a welcomed breath of fresh air. It was pleasantly quiet and calming, the sun was shining and the wind was whistling through the trees.  

Halfway through your walk you heard some movement behind you, you turned around you saw the familiar black-haired boy you had known for years. He looked somewhat shocked to see you and you too were surprised at first. He never seemed like the type of person to go to Hogsmead, but it was good to see him out of the castle.

"Oh hello Severus, I thought I was here by myself."

His shock was slowly disappearing and he took a few steps to walk around you. "I apologise...ill... get out of your way"

"What? no."  You questioned, taking a few steps to stand beside him.

"Join me. Other than Lily you're the only person I can stand talking to."

When you said this he looked at you in a way you had never seen before. Admittedly, you understood his reaction to some extent. someone you hadn't spoken to in ages suddenly asks you to join them on a walk? very strange.

"I mean if you want to join me.. Id understand if you don't."

"N-no id like that" he quickly interjected. "I would like that."

The two of you started walking, side by side and for the first time in ages you talked. And it felt like nothing had changed between you.

"So... how has school been treating you?"

"Its been the same as every other year, I'm afraid. Very... unfulfilling. What about you?"

You sighed and fiddled with your shirt. "It's been stressful, to say the least, Severus. I'm majorly failing potions and my... friends are jerks."

"But you're friends with Lily and shes good at potions, why don't you ask her to help?"

"Are you kidding me? She's too busy hanging out with James." you chuffed. "And besides I've already asked her."

Another look crossed his face. This time you could practically see the cogs turning in his head before he spoke up again.

"Well... I can tutor you... if you wish."

Of all of the things you expected him to say you never expected that. He wanted to help you?  "Really Severus? Id hate to impose."

"I wouldn't have offered if you were imposing."

A small smile crept onto your face. "Thank you Severus, but are you sure you want to be stuck with me for an hour?"

He gave an amused chuff and answered " I'm sure I will survive."

"Alright well I'm free all day on Sundays so.... does 1 pm work for you?"

"It does indeed, in the library and bring a notebook"

Before you could answer your name rang through the air. It was Lily, James, Peter, Sirius and Remus making their way down the hill.

Almost eminently you saw Severus demeanour change. He became fidgety and his head slowly curled itself to look at the mud path below his feet.

"Listen, Severus, I um... I have to walk with them now so I'll see you tomorrow yea?" you said nudging him and trying yo look him in the eye. when his gaze met yours you offered the tallboy a smile.

"Yes. tomorrow" he said before quickly scampering off down the road.

The group eventually caught up with you and Sirius threw his arm around your shoulders. " Hey, what you talking to Snivellus Snape for?"

Your eyebrows knotted in confusion as you pushed his arm off of you and looked at him. "What did you just say?" You genuinely didn't hear what he said but given his response, it clearly wasn't something good.

The smile on his face then morphed onto fear at the realisation of what he has just said. His eyes scanned his friends faces and they were just as scared for him.

"Severus, Severus Snape. that's what I said" he chuckled. The rest of your friends chuckled with him. You weren't convinced that's what he said but you went along with it since you were in an awkward situation.

"RIGHT LADS, WHO WANTS SOME BUTTERBEER!" shouted Remus pointing his wand towards the Hogsmead.

Everyone cheered and continued walking down the dirt path while you lagged behind, pulling Lily to walk with you.

Time skip to a few months later

As agreed, you and Severus would meet up in the library every Sunday for tutoring and during that time you learnt so much. Not just about potions but about Severus too. This clearly was something he enjoyed doing and he was eager to do.  You also learnt a lot about yourself during this time.

Turns out you had quite a knack for potions when you had the right teacher and your grades slowly got better too.

Unfortunately that wasn't the only thing you learnt during this time. You found out that Sirius had a crush on you. He of course had yet to tell you this news himself. Peter let it slip in one of your charms class and you were shocked.

Then, on top of that, unbeknownst to you, Lily had told the boys what you were doing on Sunday afternoons and Sirius was pissed, to say the least.

This particular Sunday, Severus had asked you to meet him next to the tree across the Black Lake.  He heard it was going to be nice out and since it was just going to be a reading session you thought why not.

On your journey there, you heard yelling and cheering near your destination. As you got closer you began to recognise some voices and when you heard Severus yelling you sprinted towards the tree.

When you exited the shrubbery you saw Sirius and the boys laughing at something above them. It was Severus. Sirius had cast a spell that pulled Severus feet first into the air. Hanging him upside-down.

You felt your blood boil in your veins. You didn't know this was going on or for how long but it stopped right then and there. Within seconds you grabbed your wand and shouted at the top of your lungs "EXPELLIARMUS!".

The amount of fear that glazed everyone's eyes in that seconds, was nothing more than horrifying. None of them expected you to be there (over an hour early) and they definitely didn't expect you to have this much anger pumping through you as you did in that moment.

The spell practically forced Siriuses wand out of his hand making Severus slowly land on the ground.  

You walked right up to Sirius, who was quivering in his boots, and pointed your wand right at his face.

" YOU! You slimy, egotistical, peace of shit!"

"N-Now (Y/N)" He stuttered, holding his hands up in surrender.

"SHUT UP! now you will answer my questions with 100% honesty or I will destroy that pretty face of yours. Understand?"

He nodded his head vigorously.

You didn't need to worry about the others shooting you with their wands because they were just as scared as their precious "Pad Foot".

"Why are you doing this Sirius and for how long?" you seethed.

" B-because I'm in love with you..." He said looking at you with hopeful eyes " and so is Severus. I did it because I was Jesus."

You pushed your wand under his chin " I know the first bit but how long, Pad Foot?"

He went silent and lowered his gaze. "Since our first year"

You sighed and looked at the rest of the group. Your anger was slowly going away.

" You knew about this?" You asked. However, when you didn't get a response your anger quickly returned.

"DID YOU KNOW!"

Simultaneously they all nodded their heads. Your friends.. they were your friends and they purposefully hurt someone so that you would go out with one of them. It made you sick!

You raised your wand and pointed at all of them.

" Don't ever talk to me again or else the next time I see your names on the murders map will be in the dark forest. 6 FEET UNDER THE WHOMPING WILLOW! UNDERSTAND?" you yelled, tears at the corner of your eyes.

Sirius was upset, he took a few steps closer to you. " (Y/N), please"

"WHAT did I just... say?"

As he took another step towards you, you shot a bolt of electricity at his feet. "get out of my sight, all of you."

Within seconds they ran away with their tails between their legs.

Throughout this exchange, Severus was stood right next to the tree. He heard every word that left your lips and felt the emotion on every letter but at the same time, he felt fear. He felt the fear that was radiating off of the murders and he felt a fear he thought he would have gotten used to buy now. The fear of being rejected by the one person he loved more than anyone else. After Sirius had exposed his feelings to you.. that fear almost consumed him. When he saw you fall to your knees and drop your wand on the grass, However, he put the fear aside and went to comfort you.

Your face was already stained with tears. The pain you felt was excruciating and your hands were shaking from the amount of adrenalin. But... despite all of that when you saw Severus face come into view you smiled at him.

" You" you said breathlessly in a calm voice.

He knelt down to your level, with a clenched jaw, worry written all over his face.

With the smile still on your face you looked at him and said "You, Severus Snape are lucky that I love you too"

 Please feel free to drop your ideas in the comments or private messing me. Love ya!!

[mrsalwayswrite]

It’s Always Been You (Eugene Roe x f!Reader)

I have mixed feelings about this piece. But who doesn’t love Soft Roe?

Warnings: couple swear words but PURE FLUFFY FLUFF

Words: 2700

Tag List: @happyveday​ @saritanotserena​ @sydney-m​ @evelynshelby​

  I stood in front of the mirror, unable to believe the person looking back was actually me. I brushed my hands down the front of the gown, enjoying its smooth, silky texture. Such a contrast to the stiff, dirty ODs I had become accustomed to. Light makeup on my face, something I had not indulged in for years. I looked… dare I say… beautiful. Even as I witnessed myself dress up in the mirror, I doubted my own reflection. It felt like I was someone else. Today, though, that was what I wanted.  

 It was a Sunday and everyone was still celebrating being in Zell Am See. We had thought Germany was beautiful but it had nothing on Austria.

 In his pilfering, Captain Speirs had found an abandoned, wealthy home that he thought I might enjoy. He purposefully pulled me aside and told me to investigate the master bedroom before anyone else got to it. At my questioning look, he just gave a wink and said he would stand guard until I was done. Without another word, he lit a cigarette and rummaged through his newest acquisitions. 

 Intrigued and still confused, since everyone knew I did not care much about finding treasures, I wandered into the home and up the grand stairwell until I finally reached the master bedroom. My jaw dropped when I saw what he was referring to and purposefully left for me. I owed him a huge bottle of liquor after this. Whoever the wife was that lived here had expensive taste. There were racks of beautiful gowns and dresses, ranging from whimsical day dresses to breath-taking evening gowns. I spent about an hour just touching all the beautiful gowns, in awe that clothing like this was even real. Even the heels and few pieces of jewelry left behind boggled my mind in their quality. It was a fairytale. It had to be.  

��So, I had decided while all the men were continuing to get drunk, blow things up and joy ride…. I was going to embrace my femininity. Something I had not enjoyed since Albourne, so long ago. 

 Now here I stood, having spent entirely too long getting ready for some kind of elegant ball. The gown I commandeered was an emerald green color, making me feel like I was wearing a gemstone, with wide straps but left my arms bare and dipped low in the back. The red lipstick I found made my lips pop in the bright light of the bathroom. My favorite thing was the small gold chain necklace I discovered half hiding under a dresser, as if dropped and forgotten by whoever was leaving quickly. I wondered if in another life this could have been me regularly, attending socialite functions and dressing up like a princess. Instead I was used to dirt and blood marring my skin, ill-fitting ODs and a helmet that constantly slipped over my eyes. 

 For this moment, just for tonight… I could pretend otherwise. Pretend I was someone important, someone elegant. 

 When I finally stepped out of the wealthy house, Speirs took one look at the gown draped over my arm and the pair of black heels dangling from my hand, and suggested I use the officer's house to get ready in. 

 Taking a deep breath, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. If only my family could see me now, I thought. I slipped on the heels and walked out of the bathroom, the gown trailing lightly behind me. 

 Tonight was about me. Doing something special for me. To remind myself I was more than just a soldier, more than the scars I now bore from our time in combat. That I had not completely lost myself to war and its carnage. Beauty could still be found in the little things...the stolen moments. Like a stunning gown and red lipstick. 

 I could hear the officers downstairs, talking about something, followed by a sharp bark of laughter from Nixon. Before I disappeared into the upstairs bathroom, I had told them I was going to watch the sunset by the lake and if I came back after dark to not worry about me. 

 Being extra careful in the gown, I descended the stairs. One foot at a time. One nervous breath at a time. Beyond aware of how different I looked. 

 As I stepped into view of those lounging around, most playing poker at a table in the middle of the room, silence struck. I could feel their eyes land heavily on me. 

 "Holy shit." Nixon said, mouth dropped open. 

 I stepped down the last two steps, brushing down my gown to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. I tried to tease, their amazed looks making me uncomfortable. "I swear, it's like you guys have forgotten I am in fact a woman."

 "Uh huh. Can't forget that right now." Nixon took a sip of his drink in hand. 

 Harry asked, a smirk on his face as tapped his cards against the table. "Where you going dressed like that?"

 "Going to watch the sunset." I reminded them. 

 "Dressed like that?!" Nixon sputtered then narrowed his eyes at me. "Looks like you're planning on meeting someone."

 "Does a woman have to dress up only for a man?" Before anyone could answer, I pointed a finger at the officers. "The correct answer is no. I can dress up for myself. I'll be back in a while." 

 "Y/n?"

 I looked at Winters, surprised to see him sitting in an armchair near the fireplace reading while the other officers were playing cards. "Sir?"

 "You look beautiful."

 "Thank you, sir." I smiled at Winters, receiving a soft one in return.

 "You got a weapon on you?" Speirs asked around a cigarette between his lips. 

 "Maybe." 

 He froze, then slowly pulled the cigarette out and started to rise from his seat. 

 "Christ! Yes! I've got my knife! Anything else, dad, or can I go now?"

 "Be smart, don't stay out too late or talk to any boys." He deadpanned, shuffling the cards in his hand. The gleam in his eyes let me know he was just teasing, but would also have no qualms stabbing anyone who bothered me. 

 Amidst the others chuckling, I groaned. "I'm leaving now."

 Quickly, I walked out before anyone could try and convince me to stay or worse- go change. 

 Thankfully, even in the fading daylight, the air was still somewhat warm where I did not need a shawl. I could hear some faint cheers from the enlisted men but I slipped behind the rows of houses and headed down the lakeside path. I walked towards my favorite spot overlooking the lake. Colors danced upon the water, making it appear as if on fire. A few ambitious stars peeked out from above in the sky painted by angels. Never before would I have imagined finding myself somewhere so absolutely gorgeous. If heaven was real, I hoped it looked like Austria. 

 Standing there, I found myself humming and gently swaying to a Billie Holiday song. My arms wrapped around myself loosely, I tried to soak in everything. I wanted to remember this moment forever, to create new memories to replace the bad ones. The nightmares. 

 "Blue moon you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own…"

 "Y/n?"

 I turned to look over my shoulder, not expecting anyone else around. The voice was a dead giveaway but I was shocked our Cajun medic was down this way. "Hey, Gene."

 He stood several paces from me; his medic satchel, that he never went anywhere without, hanging off his side. He stared at me for a long moment, eyes dancing over me in a way that made me self-conscious of how much skin showed. Suddenly, he blinked rapidly as if waking from a dream. "What…" he cleared his throat, "what are you doin' here?"

 "Watching the sunset." I glanced over my shoulder at the lake then looked back at him. 

 "Mmm...dressed like you should be in the pictures?"

 I laughed, even as I felt my face warming. I ran my hands over the gown, still in awe that I was wearing something so expensive. For the most part of the past 4 years, I had been caked in grime and sweat; even though my skin was clean now, I felt too dirty to wear something so fine. 

 "I've never worn anything like this. I just...wanted to do something...for myself."

 "Mmm… well, I'll leave you be. Goodnight." With a single nod, he hesitated then turned around, beginning to walk up the path back to the houses. 

 "You know…" I said loudly, watching his feet still as he turned back around to look at me. "It would be a shame to be dressed up and not able to dance."

 He ducked his head slightly, a bashful smile on his face. I could see the uncertainty on his face. The desire to dance, to hold me close but also the concern for crossing that unspoken line separating us. For two years we had been tiptoeing around our growing feelings. Both aware but never acknowledging. It was in the secret looks, the subtle soft touches, the constant desire to seek one another out amongst a crowd, the solace our presence created when together. The knowledge hung there between us, with one slip we would both fall headlong over that cliff. So we kept back, together as friends but separate as lovers, even if we could read the desire in one another's eyes. It was safer this way. 

 Until now. 

 Without a word, he slowly approached me, as if waiting for me to change my mind, to tell him no, to maintain our status quo. My lips only turned up in a smile as he drew closer, encouraging him, telling him I wanted this. He dropped his satchel carefully on the ground. Our eyes locked, both aware of how this moment could change everything we had built. Carefully, he reached forward and clasped my hand, pulling me into his body. My lips parted on a quiet gasp, feeling his warm breath span across my face, his hand holding mine… and for once, neither one of us was covered in the blood of a fellow paratrooper. I lifted my hand to his shoulder, the muscles tensing underneath my palm. When he made no further movement, I grabbed his other hand and placed it on my waist. For a moment I thought he would reject this, to walk away as he seemed to stay frozen. Then with the softest whisper of my name, as if that was the key to unlock this moment, he pulled me even closer and took the lead. 

 In the stolen evening gown I found and Gene in his ODs, we danced. Like there was no war to haunt us. No rules against fraternizing. No fear of the future that lay before us. It was just him and I, in this moment of beauty and joy and life. We danced. He led me in a simple box step. Our pounding heartbeats, the fluttering of my gown and the soothing sound of the lake lapping on its shore, the only soundtrack we needed. 

 "You are beautiful."

 My face heated up at the compliment. "It's the dress and lipstick."

 "Non, mon chérie." He drawled in that perfect accent and tipped my face back to meet his soft gaze. "It's you. It's always been you."

 I stared into his soulful eyes, a new burning in them. Where once it had only been a candle trying desperately to beat back the darkness; now a bonfire replaced it. Something darkness knew it could never defeat. This man who held me so tenderly, like I was some kind of priceless gem, who had seen the brutality and horrors of war but still kept going, still trying his hardest to save his men even when others would have given up. He was beautiful, both inside and out. 

 "You need to stop lookin' at me like." He whispered; eyes glued to mine. 

 It was when he spoke, I realized we were no longer dancing. When had we stopped? Our bodies were still pressed together, our fingers now entwined but our feet rooted to the path. The air between us felt anything but still. An ardent intensity hovered between us, binding us to the moment, preventing us from escaping it. The sounds around us disappeared. All I could see, all I could feel and sense and taste… was him. 

 "Why?" I asked, my voice breathy. 

 "I might be tempted to mess up your lipstick."

 A nervous giggle escaped me. Instead of dispelling the profound moment, it only seemed to enhance it. With deliberate slowness, I moved my hand on his shoulder to the back of his neck. "I wouldn't mind."

 His hand moved to cup my cheek, holding me still as he leaned in. His lips ghosted over mine, the sweetest of sensations. It sent sparks shooting through me. After he leaned back just out of lips reach. Our eyes met once again, our breathing quickening even from the faint touch. As if our bodies were synced, I rose up at the same time he leaned forward. This time when our lips met, it was with a kiss long overdue. Our lips molded to one another, basking in the taste of the other. Both my hands slipped to the nape of his neck. His hand on my cheek drifted to the back of my head, keeping me from moving away. His other hand slid to my lower back, drawing me closer… and closer.

 The kiss deepened, pulling long dormant feelings from both of us, now finally exposed without reprimand. In the midst, his hand snaked up my side to brush a thumb over the underside of my breast. At the sensation, I gasped in the kiss, surprised by his forwardness. Surprised by the pure wanton need it shot through me. As my lips parted in the gasp, his tongue thrust into my mouth like he owned it. As if he needed more of my taste. Needed more of me. As if a simple kiss would never be enough. Not to him. He quickly drew my own tongue in a dance that soon left my knees weak and wobbling. I found myself clinging to him, not just in desire, but also to keep me upright, else I melted into a puddle of sheer bliss. 

 All too soon, we were forced apart by our lungs screaming for air. He pressed his forehead to mind, his hand still skimming my side from my hip to the underside of my breast and back down. 

 "It’s you. It’s always been you." He whispered as if finally able to confide his deepest secret. The words spilling forth like water out of cracks in a dam, held back for too long. "Since I first talked to you in Toccoa about tryin' to sneak a laxative into Sobel's coffee. And in Bastogne… you were always there for me. Checkin' on me. Makin' sure I knew I wasn't alone. But we're in a goddamn war and I couldn't say nothin'. Seein' you standin' out here, lookin' like an angel, I just...I had to…"

 I pressed a finger to those kiss-swollen lips of his, silencing the onslaught of secrets. "Gene, I'm going to need you to stop talking and kiss me again."

 He smirked, nuzzling my neck for a second. When he spoke, I could feel his hot breath and lips against my skin. "Yes, ma'am."

 This time there was no hesitation, no wavering in dilemma. Our lips touched and it felt like it was meant to be. No great fireworks in the night sky, no great orchestra announcing our love. It felt more like two puzzles pieces finally fitting together. Like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. It was perfect. 

 When we broke apart again, I felt delirious with joy and the look on his face said something similar. I laid my head on his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. Bodies pressed against one another, molded together like clay. Without a word, we began swaying. The soundtrack of our shared heartbeats and the lake's waves drowning out anything else. 

 Nothing in the world had changed. We were still paratroopers occupying Austria. Men were still dying. The war was still going strong in the Pacific. Evil endured. 

 But in this moment, in our own little world. 

 Everything changed. 

[star-killer-md]

Actus Reus, Mens Rea

@contesa-lui-alucard asked:

Hey hey happy sleepover my friend!! If it’s alright with you, I have two prompts from the Smut list that I’d love to see you combine for... mob Kylo and lawyer reader! Oh snap!! 15 & 37, if you please. If not, no worries, I still hope you have an awesome sleepover 😁 (“Make it hurt, baby.” + “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”)

Anon asked:

hello, may i request clingy/possessive kylo,, thank you

Thank you lovlies for your requests and sorry from the bottom of my depressed ass heart that it took me so fucking long. Anyway here ya go, hope you enjoy some mobster Kylo deliciousness. I’m so excited you liked him Contesa, and I hope you’re into it as well too nonny! Sorry it got long, I truly have no control over that. 

And thank you so much to @sacklersdoll for reading over this for me!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst (its me), Smut (its me), mentions of predator/prey dynamic (mostly as metaphor), possessive Kylo Ren, semi-public sex, no pronouns for the reader by they are afab, dominant Kylo Ren, some brat vibes, Kylo Ren is not nice, allusions to guns, some sorta stalking behavior

Ship: Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: You’ve started to take on some pro bono clients as a favor to a friend and Kylo Ren is Not A Fan™ of all the attention this guy has been paying you. After a few months of consulting on the side, you’re beginning to wonder if life working for a mob boss is something you’re really cut out for. Though you quickly learn that you very well may have passed the point of no return when Kylo shows up at your office to remind you just who exactly you work for. 

“I really can’t thank you enough.”

You shook the woman’s hands and returned her smile. Her son stayed quiet, looking at the ground, but mumbled his thanks as well. He was a good kid. Just pissed off the wrong neighbor. One of those ‘get off my lawn,’ ‘good ole American dream’ types who thought welfare was a sign of the devil, and had it out for everyone in the lower tax brackets. 

“Really, it’s no problem,” you walked them to the door, leaving her your business card. “I’ll see you both at the courthouse on Monday.” 

Evan was waiting in your office when you returned. His patent leather shoes rested precariously on the corner of your desk and you knocked them off with a huff. 

“See you’ve made yourself at home,” you said, crossing your arms and staring down at him in your chair. 

He shrugged and stood under your scrutiny, moving around to take the seat across from you. Evan Goodman was an old friend from undergrad. You often got the impression he was still that same cocky frat boy in the head. Still flashed the ‘my daddy has more money than you’ smile on occasion when he really wanted to get under your skin. With his slicked back hair, unnervingly straight teeth, and his annoying prosperity despite never putting in much effort it was somewhat shocking the two still spoke. He was simply not the type of person who had ever needed to try. Success came naturally to him, and much to your dismay.

“What can I say? You’re a very gracious host,” he mused and leaned forward on the desk. “So, how did it go?”

You sighed, “They’ll be alright, might get saddled with a fine but the charges aren’t that serious.” 

“Good, Rosa’s an old friend. I would have helped her out myself, but not really my deal ya know?”

“Yeah, Mr. Tax Attorney, I get it.” 

Evan was kind of a dick, but he was also the kind of friend who would sit on the bathroom floor with you, hold your hair back and sing horrendous parody versions of ABBA no matter who heard. So you couldn’t hate him entirely. That also meant that when he came to you with cases like this, a favor for a friend or whatever the situation may be, you had a hard time refusing. 

It was also a convenient front for you not-so-legal legal work you’d been invested in for the past few months.

“Seriously, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you recently,” he flashed you that god awful grin and kicked his feet up again. “You can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much.” 

He had been coming to you for pro bono work with increasing frequency, especially over the past month or so, but again, you didn’t wholly mind it. You went into this kind of work for a reason. Though, you were starting to get the feeling that a certain, brooding, less than lawfully abiding businessman did not feel the same. 

Kylo Ren dealt frequently with the shady, black market underbelly of capitalist society, but you were less accustomed to his world and not completely ready to throw yourself to the hounds just yet.

You had already missed more than a few meetings and canceled on dinner tonight to meet with Rosa. To be fair, it wasn’t as if he’d made any indication this ill-defined whatever-it-was going on between the two of you was anything serious. And you were only his consultant, for now, so this took precedent anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Definitely not a way to avoid thinking about fucking your boss who also happened to be in with the mob. 

Definitely not.  

“I wouldn’t have agreed to help if I couldn’t manage it,” you yawned softly and stood to collect your things. 

It was late and you were beginning to fantasize about how soft and warm your sheets would be. If you got back in time you could pop them in the dryer and get in an episode or two before bed. 

“Hey, let me at least buy you dinner or something since I kept you out so late,” Evan parked his skinny frame in your path to the doorway. 

“You’re going to apologize for keeping me out late, by keeping me out even later?”

“Do you want free food or not?”

Pursing your lips, you stared at him for a few moments. He really did know all your weaknesses. You had skipped out on meeting with Mr. Ren—or Kylo or sir or whatever the hell you were supposed to call him now—already tonight, however, Evan was sure to take you somewhere nice and it wouldn’t be so morally repugnant if it was just as a ‘thank you….’

“Okay, fine,” you conceded and let him lead you out to the parking garage, locking the office up behind you. 

***

The next morning you stumbled past reception in a haze. Both from lack of sleep, and the bitingly cold winds battering your building despite the neighboring high rises blocking the brunt of the gale. The young woman at the desk informed you tersely that a Mr. Goodman was already waiting for you in your office and that you should really get here on time if you were expecting clients this early. 

You agreed that, yes you probably should but, you know, “trains and all that mess,” and tried not to judge her too harshly. After all, she was the barrier between you and the hundreds of calls this place received daily. 

Before slipping through the door with your name plate, you hung your coat on the rack and switched your phone on. It’d died on you last night amidst the allure of fancy, late night dinner and your sleep deprivation riddled brain had not cared enough to plug it in before bed. Fuck Amazon, but thank god for its speedy delivery of portable charges. 

You chewed your lip as the lock screen came to life. One missed call and a text. Both, of course from the most anxiety inducing sender, Kylo Ren. Because why would it be anyone else? His name menacing even typed out in standard black font. 

The text read:

Meet me at 8am.

It was very much like him—a command with punctuation and absolutely no details. The message receipt showed it was sent two hours ago, and it was already half past eight. Shit. Your fingers shook as you pulled up his contact and called. Every interaction left you coursing with adrenaline. Even now, miles away listening to the dial tone was nerve-wracking. Your heart pounded, hands slick in their grip on your phone. Maybe it was because you were never sure where you stood with him. Maybe it was because he was handsome and he knew it. Strong and he knew it. Intimidating and mysterious and closer in some ways to a Greek god than a man. He was all encompassing, and filled every available space in any room he occupied. 

Sometimes you thought you might choke on his presence. 

It rang once, twice, three times before cutting out completely. You stared down at the blank screen, biting your lip and shooting off a quick text. You were sorry, something important had come up, you would meet him the second it was convenient. 

Evan slapped you heartily on the back when you came into the room. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, evergreen with small white blossoms. 

“So, how many hours did you manage last night?” he asked, smiling his shit eating smile and seemingly unaffected despite the fact that he had to be running on just as little sleep as you.  

“I’m not even sure at this point,” you groaned as you tossed your bags down behind the little metal desk. “Time ceases to exist when you take trains past midnight.”

“Fair enough. Hey look,” Evan waved the greenery in your face, “courtesy of Rosa’s shop. She insisted I bring you something as thanks. I figured you could put them out in the front or something to brighten things up.” 

“They’re lovely. Please tell me you’re only here as a glorified delivery boy.”

His shoulders slumped at your lack of amusement, but before he could quip back the landline in your office rang. You answered, holding a finger towards Evan and leaning against the edge of the desk. It was the receptionist, Jess was her name? Maybe? You could never remember, someone else always addressed the holiday gift cards anyway. 

“There’s someone here to see you at the front desk,” she clipped, almost more exasperated than before. 

You told her you’d be right there and hung up. Evan grabbed his coat as you headed out, holding the door for you and following into the hall. 

“I’ll leave you to it if you’re busy, but give me a call after Monday and tell me how it goes,” he continued rambling as you came out into the front.

You had a smart comeback prepared, something about how simple the case was, he should have more faith in you, he was the reason you were busy in the first place, etc…but every word turned to ashes on your tongue when you saw him. 

Kylo Ren, standing right there at the desk and glaring at your receptionist. His suit was dark blue and ironed to perfection. Each leg was creased perfectly down the front and the jacket sat flawlessly on his wide set shoulders. He was a wall of unimaginably expensive fabric and what looked concerning like barely contained rage. You could see it in the twitch of his eye, the set of his jaw, and in the way his gaze landed on you the second you walked in. 

The way a predator immediately hones in on its prey. 

You froze just feet from him in the lobby, floundering like a fish on a hook. 

Evan, for his part, seemed not to notice the tension at all and continued to say his long winded goodbyes, placing the flowers in your hands and completely unaware of the slow, measured tightening of Kylo’s massive hands into fists at his side. 

“I’m free on Monday evening so we should—” 

“She’ll be busy.” 

Evan frowned, turning to face the man standing before him, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Kylo’s voice was a dark thing, low and rumbling, “She will be otherwise occupied.” 

His words were punctuated by a step towards you, one paw of a hand easily gripping your entire jaw. Lucky he did too, otherwise it would have dropped straight to the floor when he shot one last cobra strike glare in Evan’s direction, and pressed his mouth to yours. Right there. In the lobby. For everyone to see.  

The absolute bastard.

His lips were pillow plump and softer than the silk lining of his suit—and even through the surge of shock and embarrassment and more than a touch of anger—you felt your heart throb at the way he licked into your mouth. 

The flowers tumbled from your hands onto the floor as everything in you went limp under his touch. This was nowhere near the first time you’d tasted him, but it was like this every time. Like drinking ambrosia. An otherworldly experience. 

But that didn’t stop the sharp pain of his crushing grip on your arm, the way he nearly lifted your feet off the floor when he pulled away to drag along behind him. You could hear Evan spluttering in the hall behind you, the receptionist going back to clacking at her keyboard as if nothing had happened. 

When Kylo opened your office door he just about threw you inside. You tripped as he tipped you in, stumbling and catching yourself on the edge of your desk. The power behind his hand alone was undeniable. You shuddered at the thought of the array of purple fingerprints he would leave behind. It made your mouth dry and your heart sink. Confusing and delicious. 

And left you seething nonetheless. 

“What the fuck was that?!” you were not calm, so you didn’t attempt any semblance of it. 

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, level as he always was. 

The quiet before the storm and all that. 

“About the meeting? I tried to call, my phone died—”

“Because you were out catching trains at all hours of the night, I’m aware.” 

You paused, glaring at the wall of muscle between you and the door, “How did you know that?”

“So you’re not denying it?”

Kylo stalked towards you like a beast in his tailored suit and polished leather shoes like talons. You could hear your heartbeat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. Just like a rabbit in the sightline of a hawk, you were clearly being hunted. 

“Why would I deny something I’m not trying to hide?” your voice came out horse as he caged you between the desk and his chest, arms on either side to block any route of escape. 

“No you are certainly not adept at subtlety,” he said and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his tongue moved behind his teeth. “This is the fifth time that idiot in the hall has distracted you from work.”

“That’s not an answer,” you tried to spit the words but his eyes were boring into you. The honey of them spilled down your spine and made you shiver. “How did you know? You are not entitled to any information pertaining to my personal life, regardless.” 

“Watch your mouth,” he growled. “Entitlement has no part in this.”

You were entering dangerous territory, though stopping curiously did not occur to you.

“I don’t think you have the right to be throwing out commands right now, not after that display.”

“Have you forgotten who you work for?” Kylo hissed at you, hands wrapped around the metal of your desk so hard you thought it might warp under his fingers. 

“Of course not,” you desperately tried to keep your voice down lest anyone get even more a spectacle. 

“Then what is this?” one hand left the desk and pulled a phone from inside his jacket. 

The screen lit up, and you looked in horror at pictures of yourself. Pictures of yourself from last night. Pictures of yourself from last night at dinner with Evan, interspersed with shots of you crossing the street, waiting on the train platform, and stumbling back into your apartment. Each was clearer than you’d expected, presumably from some insanely expensive surveillance equipment. You had been out for hours, and you had been watched the whole time. 

You narrowed your eyes, flicking back and forth between Kylo’s face—the graceful bridge of his nose pointed down at you—and gaped. 

“You had me followed…” you breathed the words into the slowly shrinking space between your bodies. 

He simply nodded, as if, somehow, you were foolish for not having considered this before. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you had no idea what you had gotten yourself into. Perhaps you had signed on for much more than a paycheck when you agreed to work for Kylo Ren. 

“I can’t have my employees getting distracted.”

Kylo slowly drifted ever closer, shoulders bent so he was eye level with you. He pressed further into the desk, pinning you between his body and the hard surface that bit into your ass. Something long and thick and hard nudged your thigh. 

“I don’t know why you though having me followed was necessary—” 

“You’re an arrogant little slut who needs to be reminded of your priorities,” his hand snatched your leg and wrenched it open so he could stand between them, “ I am not something you do on the side.” 

You could hear the way his teeth grit out the words, the way they formed as a growl deep in his beast’s throat. The hand still settled on the desk, skimmed up your hip and chest, his fingers 

biting into your jaw. 

“Do you understand me?”

Your lips were shut tight in a thin line, eyes wide and staring up like the prey you were. The silence only provoked him more. Snarling, two thick fingers wrenched your mouth open, pressing hard on your tongue and making you gag around them. 

“Answer.” 

Kylo Ren almost always spoke in commands. Having power did that to people, and rarely did it ever compel you, but his words sunk deep into your bones. Dredged up some dark, instinctual need to obey. To submit to this show of control. 

“Yes,” you mumbled around his fingers in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips when they moved. 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You watched him suck his teeth, grabbing your face tighter and dragging you close so he could spit directly into your open mouth. He slammed your jaw shut, nearly taking off the tip of your tongue and hissed into your ear. 

“Swallow.” 

Again, you did without a thought. And it was disgusting, but invigorating, sent off some spark in your stomach with how easily he bent your body to his will. There was no man like him, you decided. And maybe this was simply because Kylo Ren was not a man. That term alone would never do him justice. 

In one shockingly smooth motion, you found yourself flat on your back, ass hanging off the edge of the desk with his hands on your hips. He ground himself against you, the throbbing of his cock evident even through the layers of clothing. That feeling on its own had you soaked through, thighs sticking with liquid excitement. 

“Remember who you work for,” he growled into your neck, licking a long stripe up your throat and sucking at the exposed skin. 

But it was very clear to you what he really meant. 

Remember who you belong to. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth as he bit down on the skin just above your shoulder, laving his tongue over the stinging flesh. Kylo pulled back, frowning down at you and yanking the hand away from your face. One held both your wrists in a vice lock while the other ripped your panties straight down your legs and left the dripping fabric discarded on the carpet. 

“No, they’re going to hear you,” he grunted, and pulled one of your hands down, pressing it to your slit and running your fingers through your slick. “Go on, touch your fucking pussy and let them know what a little whore you are for me.” 

It was something about his voice. Something in the way it left him, its timbre, its wonder, unquestioning. You could never refuse him. 

So, with a small nod you parted your folds, head resting on a stack of files as you drew slow circles around your clit with a shaky hand. His eyes never left your cunt, tracing the movement of your finger and the trail of wetness that seeped from you to the desktop. Softly, you gasped as the familiar placement of your fingers made you clench and arch up. Kylo’s rubbed small circles into your inner thighs with his thumbs, kneading the flesh there. 

When the spark was there, the lovely pulsing in your nerves alight, you dipped down, teasing and slipping inside, grinding down as best you could on your hand. It wasn’t enough, but nothing ever was since you’d been ripped open on Kylo’s cock. 

Evidently he did not find your work sufficient either. 

Another finger joined yours, stroking your lips and circling your entrance. His touch made you whine, the promise of hands that were not your own never ceasing to illicit a new gush of pleasure. 

“I said,” he murmured, his touch so terribly feather light. “Let them hear you.” 

He was like a gunshot, sudden and forceful and almost instantly had you screaming. Kylo slammed his fingers into you, so full and so deep, curling hard against that lovely spot inside. 

“Kylo, god, please—” you moaned long and low, your face burning with the knowledge that the walls were barely thick enough to keep your phone calls private, much less the shameful noises he pulled from you. 

“What was that?” he panted, adding another finger and pumping them deep into your cunt. “You can do better.” 

Your teeth dug so hard into your lip you thought it might bleed, but you couldn’t take much more. The ledge was approaching—Kylo Ren knew it—and he was determined to push you straight into the fire. 

You choked when his deliciously thick fingers were ripped from you, walls fluttering around the awful emptiness. Your head lolled back as you listened to him work the buckle of his belt and slacks open, and when you did glance down your mouth watered at the sight. Kylo—impossibly long cock throbbing in his hand—stood between your legs, stroking himself from root to tip. You watched little pearls of precum bead at the head while his thumb swiped across to smear them along his length. 

“You are insane,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

Did you need to keep this position? No, technically you would be more than well off on the salary Mr. Ren so graciously provided. However, you could not mentally deal with being terminated for getting dicked in your office during work hours. 

Kylo smirked, the edge of his perfect cupid’s bow cocked back and aimed straight at your chest. Without warning, he sunk into you, straight to the hilt and threw his head back as you sobbed with the sharp sting of being split in two on his cock. 

“This is what you do,” he growled into your ear, hands on either side of your head as he worked his length back out only to pound into you again. “You work for me and you take my cock and don’t ever fucking forget that.”  

Your legs were wound so tightly around his waist that had he been any other man, his ribs would have cracked under the pressure. His hair, falling in black, satin waves, was gorgeous even in the sterile office lighting. You threaded your fingers into it at the roots and held him while your body rocked against the desk. It’s metal surface pinched at your sink and made your back ache, though that was nothing compared to the burn of Kylo’s thrusts, sliding against your walls. You felt him in your throat. You always did. That was simply the way things were with him. He filled you painfully, thoroughly, took over all of your senses until it was just him. 

And, strangely, it was the most alive you’d ever felt. 

He was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

You couldn’t scream for him, but you could still let him taste the desperation, the willingness in your body to mold against him. So you kissed him, dragged him by the hair to meet your lips and licked past his teeth, gasping and moaning on his tongue as you sucked it hard and cried into his mouth. 

And he drank you down, picking up a punishing rhythm and breaking blood vessels where his hands gripped your hips. One drifted lower, thumb pressing down hard on your clit as your cunt clenched around his length. The desk was lifting off the ground with every thrust, the room filled with the wet sounds of your bodies and you were quickly melting under him. 

Warmth was spreading, growing, building out from your pussy, igniting in your veins. He was right. This is what you did. This is what he did to you. This toe curling, lip biting, bone shattering kind of pleasure. 

Oh you were so royally fucked. 

“I—oh shit—Kylo I’m,” you pulled back just enough to pant out a warning before the wave took you. 

So hot, it washed over your skin and made your legs shake and your hands leave his hair to dig your nails into his chest through the crisp white button down he wore. 

“Feel that?” he grunted as you convulsed and shuddered under him, “Feel how this pussy was made for me.” 

You nodded, buried your face in his neck and held on as he worked you through your climax and straight into his own. Once, twice he ground his cock deep in you, feeling how tight you were around him until he was spent and spilling hot, thick ropes of cum that coated your walls and dripped out around his length. 

He panted, lazily rolling his hips, fucking you slowly until finally, he came to a halt with his softening cock still sheathed inside you. Seconds past, or maybe hours, you couldn’t tell. Kylo tended to have that effect on you. Time slipped away so easily in his presence, like there was never enough of it. 

When he did pull away, you stayed with your back firmly planted amidst the mess of scattered paperwork and manila envelopes. He rose to his full, towering height and tucked himself away, straightening the wrinkles in his suit and eyeing you only once from the side. You admired his profile, you never understood until now what the meaning of the word “regal” truly was. 

Under the dictionary definition, his picture surely would be there, staring at you down the bridge of his marble carved nose. 

You sat up on your elbows as he stalked towards the door. 

“Was that all you came for?”

Kylo paused, broad back still facing you and leaving the room feeling irrevocably empty with just the intention of his absence. 

“We’ll reschedule for five tonight,” he said, filling the door frame completely. “Don’t be late.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and the sound of it made you collapse back onto the desktop. You laid there for a moment, leaking your combined spend and aching. The throb of him settled in your muscles and festered. But the worst part was the other ache, the pain of being without. And maybe you had been a bit avoidant. Maybe this work really was so you didn’t have to see him. Because if you saw him you’d end up fucking him—which was fine, which was good, which was great actually—but then he would leave. And you couldn’t decide which wanting was worse. The wanting before or the wanting after. 

Maybe it didn’t matter. 

You had more important things to think about anyway. Like securing the receptionist an incredibly large holiday bonus, assuming you still had a job here at the end of the day. 

Maybe that didn’t matter either. 

It might be high time you made a commitment to whatever the hell kind of mess you’d stumbled into. Kylo Ren was an enigma in the best kind of way. Maybe you should stop running from it. 

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

—

I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said. 

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt. 

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush. 

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day. 

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things. 

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again. 

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table. 

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.” 

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?” 

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.” 

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.” 

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger. 

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend. 

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left. 

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.  

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded. 

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.” 

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?” 

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet. 

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head. 

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.” 

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers. 

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up. 

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet. 

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work. 

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly. 

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said. 

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister. 

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.” 

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice. 

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?” 

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?” 

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face. 

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?” 

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.” 

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” 

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart. 

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve. 

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth. 

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide. 

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household. 

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said. 

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.” 

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window. 

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!” 

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said. 

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.” 

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship. 

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”  

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be. 

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself. 

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights. 

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages. 

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat. 

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid. 

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.” 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?” 

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.” 

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess. 

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in. 

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate. 

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie. 

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full. 

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?” 

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.” 

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

—

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her. 

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things. 

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him. 

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question. 

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again. 

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy. 

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?” 

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared. 

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb. 

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning. 

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away. 

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course. 

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine. 

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise. 

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted. 

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite. 

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs. 

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide. 

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner. 

“Jamie Taylor?” 

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her. 

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different. 

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment. 

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away. 

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware. 

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met. 

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable. 

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress. 

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself. 

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring. 

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin. 

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed. 

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked. 

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake. 

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning. 

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?” 

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.  

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away. 

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed. 

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified. 

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively. 

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. 

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

[chalkrevelations]

OK, Word of Honor, Episode 9, and I know last time I got deep in the weeds about symbolism, but this week, I’m getting back to basics and rambling on (and on) about what this show is really about: Zhou Zishou and Wen Kexing and their relationship.

First, though, the usual warning: SPOILERS. Not just for this episode, but potentially for the entire show, so drive past and circle back around later if you want to watch all 36.5 eps unspoiled.

Bear with me on this one, because this ep spends a LOT of time on ZZS and WKX, and I think a lot of that time is ZZS making some Monumental Life Decisions, including how he’s going to proceed in this relationship and how he’s going to approach his life moving forward. But I’m finding myself needing to work through it chronologically, and it’s. A Lot. Also, let’s face it, ZZS has been my ride-or-die at least since he dropped to his knees and started disrobing in the middle of the throne room in Ep 1, so a chance to wallow in his emotional journey is a chance I’m gonna take.

So, we do have a brief opener when we find out Dead Guy who the Yueyang disciple was shrieking about at the end of the last ep is Fang Buzhi, AKA the Nine Clawed Fox, the guy who lifted WKX’s (Danyang) Glazed Armor (along with some replicas). He got got by mysterious somebodies in the previous episode, and we find out now that he has three tiny needles in his neck, which ZZS recognizes as a Tian Chuang technique. This leads ZZS to 1) assume it must have been Han Ying who did it, so the (Danyang) Glazed Armor is now in the hands of Tian Chuang, and 2) realize that maybe this is not the best place for the former leader of Tian Chuang to be hanging out right now, so he makes their excuses, because he knows that Gao Chong must be VERY BUSY now that he’s got this corpse on his hands, so they’ll just BE GOING, thanks so much. Gao Chong hopes to see them at the Hero’s Conference, and WKX responds in a Significant Tone that of course he’ll be at the Hero’s Conference, and now ZZS has his Thinky Face on again, because WKX is not nearly as subtle as he seems to think he is when he’s making Pronouncements.

The ZZS/WKX Show really starts kicking into gear that night, at the Getting Lucky Good Luck Inn, where we open on ZZS wandering contemplatively around his room, looking beautiful in the soft light of evening (your FACE, Zhang Zhehan) and ruminating on Prince Jin’s motives for wanting the Glazed Armor, like he’s never met this power-hungry asshole before. Also, he thinks to himself, wtf was that, with Gao Chong keeping anybody from seeing Chengling in the last ep? There’s a knock on the door, which momentarily confuses him - understandably, because as we’ll see, WKX doesn’t generally get the concept of announcing yourself and waiting to be invited in by knocking first, preferring to dramatically bust open doors (at least to ZZS’s bedroom) and grace you with his presence, whatever your thoughts on the matter are. He’s accompanied by waiters and dinner, and ZZS realizes his senses are going, presumably because he can’t smell this spread that WKX has procured in an attempt to prove what a good provider he is (what did I say about food and bonding? ZZS fed him in the market, and now it’s his turn to feed ZZS). WKX tells us that life is just three hots and a cot - which gives away more about your life than you would likely be comfortable with us knowing, Lao Wen, given how close to the vest you’re holding your cards – and that everything else can wait if you can have a meal with someone you like. :coff: (Also, remember this, it will come around again.)

Cut to dinner by flickering candlelight, the better for soft lighting to caress ZZH’s exquisite face, but ZZS isn’t into it at all, staring into space instead of eating WKX’s proffered Courtship Delicacies. This earns what’s possibly WKX’s most hypocritical and amusing comment yet, which is to ask ZZS, “What is it that you can’t tell me?” ZZS - apparently - is still feeling soft about WKX’s help against Tian Chuang’s Chengling-kidnapping attempt - or maybe he’s thinking that a little bit of opening up on his part will soften up WKX - because he hardly has to have a spoon dug into his ribs at all to admit that he’s wondering if it was a mistake to bring Chengling to Five Lakes Alliance. My dude, just steal him back, then. WKX laughs at him and tells him he’s got such a handsome face (true) along with a kind and innocent heart (false, he’s a former government spook and assassin, a part-time ill-tempered gremlin, and a whole-ass troll), and therefore girls will clearly go crazy for him (true, just ask me). ANYWAY, A-Xu, (WKX continues) now that the requisite random no-homo boilerplate is out of the way, are you really thinking of taking on Chengling as a disciple, because now is apparently not too soon to have the adoption conversation about Our Son. I almost expect him to pull out the adoption papers then and there. Instead, he pulls out a story - which is awkwardly placed and kind of clunky, actually, despite being thematically important - of a dog he had once, given to him by Someone Very Important, although of course he’s not going to say who that was (:facepalm:), and his mother warning him that he’d have to take care of it for life, and then he betrayed it.

So, there’s a lot going on here. We’ll eventually find out that ZZS gave Zhen Yan a puppy, so will this story of a gift dog jog ZZS’s memory into realizing that WKX is Zhen Yan without WKX actually telling him, so that WKX can tell his Bundle of Neuroses that it’s not reeeaaallly WKX’s fault ZZS figured it out? Also, WKX sees ZZS being like this about Chengling, and in the Chengling = Zhen Yan equation we’ve already established, is it possible this will prime ZZS to remember another disciple/young boy he took responsibility for, at one point? Of course, on ZZS’s side of things, it’s possible that hearing about this dog that WKX failed is likely to remind him of the way he failed his own responsibility to all the other disciples of Siji Manor, so, excellent way to take a stab at his heart, WKX! However, ZZS breaks the miserable tone we’ve become mired in by smacking WKX, chiding him for comparing their son to a dog, and getting them drinking. See, here, Chengling is the dog. Earlier, the two sisters A-Xiang rescued were the dog. Later, A-Xiang will be the dog. Unfortunately, WKX is going to have a blind spot and never quite realize that, in the Ghost Valley schema he’s set up, the Department of the Unfaithful is also the dog, but we’ll get to that in later eps. For now, cut to later that night: After dinner and a washup, ZZS sits on his bed, and we get some special effects to indicate that his hearing is also giving him problems, so he deploys his special Nightly Nails Torment meditation pose, and then we get the second instance of WKX playing the xiao to help him meditate and rest. (Junjun, your hands on that xiao …) ANYWAY, we get a gorgeous little bit of physical acting from ZZH here that could easily have been overplayed but is nicely restrained and subtle, with just the slightest smile when ZZS realizes WKX is playing, and then his whole body visibly relaxing as he allows himself to sink into WKX’s now-familiar musical embrace the meditation. It is :chef’s kiss:

Cut to next AM, when ZZS is now a very cranky boy, and I get this, because I also am exceedingly irritated when people bust into the room where I’m sleeping with an abundance of cheerfulness and try to get me to interact and do things without at least half an hour to creep my way out of bed, two cups of coffee, and an hour of silence before any attempts to converse like a reasonable human being (I’m looking at YOU, mom), and I don’t even have the excuse of seven Nails pinning me. Also, when WKX whips off the blankets, we learn that ZZH dresses to the right. :hands: I’m just making an observation. So, WKX wants to go to Yuefan Tower like some kind of wide-eyed tourist, and despite some smacking and scowling and death threats, we then smash-cut to the Tower, where ZZS has apparently come to the conclusion that the only way to deal with the ADHD gremlin crawling into his bed is to humor him about this daytrip. I think you could have come up with some more creative ideas that didn’t involve leaving bed, but I guess you’re not the fast one in this relationship, Zhou-ge. Srsly, though, I’m sure WKX would have been happy to do all the work, my dude. (I don’t always have strong top-bottom preferences, but you probably aren’t going to have much luck convincing me that ZZS is not a pillow princess who wants to just lay back and be spoiled. “Aren’t you a very capable man?” indeed. WKX has to do ALL THE WORK, god. I don’t know if I’m swimming against the current here – god knows I was in Inception fandom, where I felt the same way about Eames - but here we are.) Also, I can’t believe WKX didn’t just sit in the bedroom and creep on A-Xu’s beautiful sleeping profile for at least the amount of time it would have taken to drink a pot of tea, another viable option if it was me in this scenario. Tch. What kind of stalker are you, Lao Wen?

ANYWAY, at Yuefang Tower, ZZS tells us about the Four Sages of Anji, a senior-citizen polycule of soulmates who are, conveniently, at this very moment, on a boat in the lake beside the tower, playing music and sword-dancing. This is the first time they’ve been seen in 10+ years, after they put down their various swords and ran off together to live like hippies off-the-grid in the woods, probably skipping around naked, drinking “tea,” and having lots of sex. ZZS sighs wistfully while recounting this tale and calls them “a breath of fresh air.” There’s some discussion and poetry quoting and literary references to soulmates, and somewhere in here we get a shot of ZZS and WKX from behind which makes it super-obvious how hard they’re working the costumes to make Gong Jun look as broad as possible. He’s got the power shoulders on this set of robes, compared to Laopo ZZS’s soft, unstructured, flowing robes, and with those shoulders tapering down to the belted waist, they’ve got Junjun seriously working the Chris Evans Dorito silhouette. Meanwhile, focus back on their conversation: ZZS thinks that “the world is not important, finding a soulmate is,” giving some MAJOR FORESHADOWING for the end of the show (which we are accepting as “Ep” 37 because WE ARE), when we get that icy separation from the rest of the world but they have each other. WKX gives him a yearning look. ZZS looks back … there’s really no other way to put this … coyly, not meeting WKX’s gaze directly. This offers WKX and us a chance to admire his profile once again, thank you, Laopo. ZZS waits until WKX looks back out at the lake before looking at him directly, and his face journey, y’all. He’s thinking that it might not be bad to spend his remaining time with this soulmate, I think he’s starting to re-think the slow suicide, and he’s also thisclose to just letting WKX have him. Y’all, he seriously wants WKX so bad, here. It may be the first time we’ve seen this level of interest from him - it may be the first time, in all that we’ve seen of him, that he allows himself to even have that kind of interest. I think this is the next big step from Ep 6, when he allowed himself to enjoy being desired - now he’s allowing himself to desire, to want something again, other than a chance to drink himself to death in the gutter. This, right here, is a crucial point when he makes the decision to spend whatever time he’s got left living rather than just dying, and I’m flailing on the couch. This is the face of a man who’s ready to Make Some Declarations while getting railed within an inch of his life. SOMEONE IS GETTING SOME TONIGHT. Or he would if he wasn’t going to turn out to be such a fuckup. FFS, WKX.

But first, we cut to a scene of them back at the marketplace, wandering through as WKX mocks various sects in town for the conference – including the Mount Hua boys, who apparently look like virgins make their first trip to a brothel – and ZZS supplies background info on them. WKX asks if ZZS can tell what sect WKX is from, and ZZS calls him a messy bitch before asking if WKX can please stop making him play guessing games about everything and just tell him what WKX so clearly wants ZZS to know. (I know, right? But no, because then WKX might get what he wants, and he’s way too terrified for that, so you have to guess. That way, it’s not his fault when you figure out who he is and reject him, as anyone clearly will do because he’s unlovable and unforgiveable and not even really human, A-Xu.) WKX immediately changes the subject to ramble about the Hero’s Conference and how laughable all the sects are for wanting to be seen as heroes, blah blah blah, rinse and repeat. ZZS comments that only inexperienced people want to be heroes, that experienced people know “every character of the word hero is written in blood,” and yes, the character they’re using for hero, “ying,” is still the same character used in Han Ying’s name (which is not, by the way, the “ying” used in Wei Ying’s name, to cross streams for a moment). ZZS says he’s too old to be a hero (I and my knees feel you, my dude), now he’s just a wanderer, and he asks if WKX wants to be a hero or a wanderer, and WKX says that as a wanderer, all he needs is ZZS, and I’m telling you, someone absolutely would be getting some tonight if only he wasn’t such a fuckup, Lao Wen.

I’m’a try to wrap this up soon, because it’s gotten v. long, but we then cut to that night at the Getting Lucky Inn, ZZS drinking in his room, WKX busting in with his usual dramatic flair, with wine, inviting ZZS up to the roof to drink and look at the moon. He clearly has ulterior motives, but unfortunately for everyone, we’re going to discover they’re not the ulterior motives ZZS is expecting. As they lean back on the roof together, hands almost-but-not-quite touching, a romantic tune playing, WKX tells ZZS that he’s like, really happy! Just super happy! So happy! Ask me why I’m so happy, A-Xu! Spoiler alert: It is, unfortunately, not because he’s getting ready to get some from his laopo. This is particularly unfortunate, because ZZS chooses this moment to take another big step in this relationship, telling WKX that he’s not going to ask about things WKX doesn’t want to tell him, that he’ll wait for whatever WKX wants to tell him. On the surface, this comes off a little bit like, I’m done with asking when you’re not going to answer anyway, but in context – particularly on the back of the earlier scene when ZZS watched WKX turn on a dime and immediately change the subject to avoid exposing anything when ZZS asked WKX to stop making him guess everything – this is as good as a declaration of going all-in. ZZS is committing to this relationship on faith, without having all – or even most – of the answers about WKX, and his approach is going to be to wait until WKX is ready to reveal whatever information he feels safe and comfortable revealing. In practice, he’s going to end up being better or worse at this, depending on the day, but what it reminds me of, already, is that moment in the 20s (Ep 21? 22?) when A-Xiang and Cao Weining are arguing about her killing the beggar guy, he approaches her, she yells at him and points to the ground to indicate exactly how close he’s allowed to get to her, and his respect of that boundary she lays down is instantaneous and absolute. That’s what ZZS is saying he’s going to at least try to do, here. It also reminds me of the way he’s going to respect WKX’s decision on whether or not WKX is going to claim his place as a disciple of Siji Manor, without it affecting their relationship, so we really are starting as ZZS means to go on, here.

Unfortunately, we then find out that what WKX is actually so happy about is that his plan to burn down the jianghu is starting its next big step, and their romantic evening is interrupted by a bunch of dudes fighting and killing each other over a bunch of fake Glazed Armor. WKX mentions that he’s so happy the show’s started; he’s alternately amused, satisfied, and smug as they watch various fights; he seems to be expecting ZZS to also be amused; and I feel like the implication is that this was his real motive for inviting ZZS out onto the roof, to be able to watch this show with him. ZZS – who’s spent enough time standing ankle-deep in blood for six lifetimes and was working hard just a few weeks ago at drinking himself to death to try to forget what that feels like - is displeased and horrified, rather than very proud of what WKX has accomplished; he pushes WKX away from him when WKX approaches him to ask if he doesn’t think it’s all so very amusing; and he calls WKX crazy, then turns his back on him and walks away. To make things worse, the next morning, after WKX brings breakfast to ZZS’s room and actually knocks, only to find that ZZS has left in the middle of the night, WKX will witness an angry mob gathered outside the house in the woods where the Four Sages of Anji are staying for the Hero’s Conference, demanding a piece of the Glazed Armor the Sages are supposedly holding for Gao Chong, and eventually leading to the deaths of all four of these peaceful aging hippies whose commune in the woods was ZZS’s ultimate dream, leaving WKX horrified by the fact that his actions have consequences, including some that are going to make his boyfriend even more pissed off at him.

SO. All that happened. There were some other people in the episode, too:

We see A-Xiang and Cao Weining having lunch. She asks him why he’s not eating, calls him fat and cute, then proceeds to tell him about Ghoul, who likes to eat the faces of pretty boys. Her conversation skills could still use some work. Cao Weining vows to kill the ghosts of Ghost Valley who would do such awful things. A-Xiang actually ignores this slander about the evil of the residents of the Ghost Valley in a way that she doesn’t usually – usually she looks kind of unhappy when the Evilness of the Evil Inhabitants of the Evil Ghost Valley comes up, going all the way back to ZZS’s comments in Ep 2. Right now, she’s too busy pumping Pooh Bear for information, asking about why the Ghost Valley would have left a pile of heads on Yueyang’s doorstep if the Five Lakes Alliance is so great, so what is Five Lakes going to maybe, perhaps, do about this? Cao-dage is suspicious … that A-Xiang might be scared, but don’t worry, he’ll protect her. Oh, sweetheart. I could eat you up with a spoon, right along with Ghoul. Also, it finally registers that A-Xiang called him cute, but she has to step away for a quick confab with a henchwoman.

We also have to watch Chengling get bullied some more by a Yueyang shixiong who I think is Gao Shan, who we’ll later see bullying some prisoners in the Yueyang dungeon as he admits that he’s doing it to relieve his own frustrations and make himself feel better -  fantastic disciples you’ve got there, Gao Chong, I’m super-impressed by the morality and ethics you’re instilling as a sect. Once again, I have to consider WKX’s position on the jianghu as a hive of scum and villainy. Anyway, once Bullying Hour is over, Chengling runs into A-Xiang, and he can’t manage to prevent the waterworks as he confesses that he thought he’d never see any of them again and that ZZS didn’t want him. UGH. Zhou Zishu, come and get your child back. He’s at least somewhat mollified by Xiang-jie telling him she’s been sent to take care of him, and god knows she’s managed to keep WKX fed and clothed this long, so she has some experience as a minder, as counterintuitive as that seems.

We get a quick shot of Han Ying (My Beloved) with two identical pieces of Glazed Armor, apparently realizing that there are fakes out there.

Deng Kuan shows up, beaten and stumbling, and nearly gets turned away at the front gates of his own sect as a beggar – have I mentioned how unimpressed I am by the Yueyang disciples? Deng Kuan appears to be the only one of them worth anything – before they realize who he is. He is put to bed and tenderly nursed by Gao Xiaolian, who cries over him as he won’t wake up.

Finally, Gao Chong, Shen Shen and Zhao Jing (uh-huh) are horrified to discover that there’s fake Glazed Armor fk’n everywhere in town, making Five Lakes Alliance look ridiculous, which is just fabulous as the Hero’s Conference is coming up, guys. Shen Shen, because everything is a nail, vows to kill anyone who makes problems. Later, Hei Zi, who plays Gao Chong, has an utterly fantastic moment after the deaths of the Four Sages (wow, I did not remember that we wrapped up their entire storyline within a single ep), when he’s haranguing Beggar Gang Chief and is literally all, “You want the Glazed Armor? :pulls a piece out of his robe: HERE. You want some more? :pulls another piece out of his robe: TAKE IT.” It’s a great acting moment, his delivery is perfection.

[hotchley]

Hi! I’d like to request 4 from Fluff with a platonic Hotch and literally whoever else you want, please!

I’m so happy for you for 500, congratulations!!! ❤️

Aah thank you! I went with JJ because it seemed to work. You may be wondering why this one is like this, it's because I don't want it to be the same as the Hotchley request (that I haven't started lol)

It's set... post whatever episode JJ comes back to the BAU properly. Features background Willifer because I love them <3 No proofreading as always. 1403 words.

4: "your hair is so soft!"

Trigger Warnings: mild sickness (Will and Henry have colds)

read on ao3!

JJ has always taken pride in her appearance. Even before she was media liaison, with her face constantly on the television, and a sense of professionalism essentially needed at all times, she took pride in looking nice. She liked applying her make-up and watching herself transform. Not into something better, just something different. She liked brushing her hair and choosing a stylish outfit.

Her parents used to tease her about it, always asking who she was doing it for, but she learnt to tune them out over time. She wasn't doing it for anyone but herself. If they couldn't understand that, it wasn't her fault. So what if she liked feeling good? There were bigger crimes a person could commit.

Since Henry's birth, that whole routine- hair, make-up, outfit- had gone down the drain. There were some days where she was lucky if she changed out of her pajamas and into sweatpants. She didn't mind, because she loved Henry with all her heart, and she had always wanted to be a mother, but she missed it. Perhaps it was a silly thing to miss, but she still missed it.

Will was doing just as much as she was- he was a half-decent father after all- but there never seemed to be enough time for either of them to do anything more than splash their face with some water. Obviously, neither of them would trade it for the world, but even Will was starting to miss being able to shower for more than nine minutes and forty five seconds.

Obviously, neither of them were able to stay at home forever. Not if they were going to buy the house they had fallen in love with. So Will went back to work as soon as his combined paternity and annual leave finished, which left JJ alone for eight hours. She missed him, but it was okay. As soon as he got through the door, he was showering her with affection, taking Henry from her arms, and sending her to get rest.

JJ went back to work a few months later, very grateful that everyone had been accommodating. Jordan had done her best, but the BAU wasn't for her, and that was okay. JJ was glad to hear that all miscommunication had been cleared up, and that everyone had gotten on in the end, because she wasn't sure she'd ever forget the time Aaron had phoned her at three in the morning because he'd messed up.

(He hadn't, not to the degree he was convinced he had, but it was not a fun night.)

For the most part, her return to work was rather smooth. And then suddenly, everything went downhill.

Will and Henry both got sick at the same time. She, somehow, avoided this, and after triple-checking her temperature, and asking Will a ridiculous number of times whether or not he was going to be okay, she went to work.

Her clothes did not coordinate, her face was devoid of all make-up, and her hair was thrown in a bun to try and make it less obvious that it hadn't been brushed, but it was fine. The BAU were (supposedly) grounded after doing successive cases. Again.

"Morning blondie- what happened? Are Henry and Will okay?" Derek asked, concerned as soon as she walked towards them.

JJ blinked the sleep from her eyes. "They've both gotten sick. But I'm okay. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"Well if you start to feel unwell at any time, just tell me. I'll drive you home," he says.

She manages to smile. "Thanks Der."

Morgan simply shrugs. "Least I can do."

Before she can offer to do something in return, Hotch exits his office. "Strauss is coming by later today with the Director. They're doing an inspection. So Emily, please, do not take my phone and start reading my texts from Nate again."

Emily smirks. "Are they more inappropriate than last time?"

Hotch glares daggers. JJ tries to stifle her laughter, but completely fails.

"Wait. Do I have to be here?" She asks, suddenly aware of how unprofessional she looks.

Hotch turns to her. "Oh JJ. A moment in my office please?"

She swallows, but nods and follows him. He holds the door open for her, then locks it behind him. She's not uncomfortable, just confused. She only grows more confused when he closes the blinds, sticking his tongue out at Emily like a child.

"Hotch, what are you doing?"

He pulls the chair he keeps in front of his desk to the centre of his room. "Sit."

She does. "Hotch."

"After Jack was born, we got sick at the same time. Haley had to go in because there were some very important meetings. She looked exactly the same as you do now. Which means Henry and Will must be ill, and you must be exhausted."

There's no point in denying it. "Yeah I guess. But I'm not ill! I can do my job."

Hotch smiles, and pulls a brush out of his desk drawer. It's the exact same one that she uses. "I know you can. I just want to help you feel a little bit more like yourself. That's all."

"Oh."

She expects him to pass the brush to her. He doesn't. He stands behind her, and takes her hair out of the bun she had hastily thrown it in. And then he parts her hair into three sections, moving two over her shoulder, and gently brushing through the third.

"This is very nice," she whispers.

"Feel free to fall asleep," he says.

She laughs, but eventually her exhaustion catches up to her and her eyes flutter close.

When she wakes up, a blanket has been draped over her body, and Hotch is behind his desk, doing paperwork. The blinds are still closed, and he's working using the lamp only.

"Shitting- why didn't you wake me up?" She exclaims.

"Because you looked so peaceful. And you deserved some consistent sleep."

"But what about the observation?"

"Hasn't happened yet. And if they have a problem with me taking care of my agents, then that's on them. JJ, it's completely fine. If I needed something urgently, I would have either asked someone else or woken you up."

She knows he's telling the truth. "Okay. Thank you. I know you don't like brushing your hair."

If he's surprised by her knowledge, he doesn't show it. "I don't, but other people, it's nice. Soothing."

JJ smiles, then runs her hand through it. Her fingers don't catch a single knot. "I do feel more like myself. So really, genuinely, thank you. It means a lot to me."

"It's not a big deal, but you're welcome. If I could help with the make-up and clothes, I would, but I don't know anything about either of them, clearly, so…" he trails off, and she can't help but grin.

"You've done more than enough. Could you do one more thing? If it's not too much?"

"JJ, of course. What?"

"Would you plait it for me? It'll be easier to do my work, and then when I get home, it'll be easier to deal with two sick people. Or maybe it's a psychological thing. I don't know. My mom always plaits her hair when someone is sick, and I like feeling close to her in that way."

"Of course I can. Tell me if it looks terrible?"

She nods, knowing it won't.

Aaron splits her hair into three sections again, running his hands through each. "Your hair is so soft!"

"It's the shampoo and conditioner I use," she says, not sure how to handle his softness.

"Of course it is. It always is," he responds, and she knows he's thinking of something else, but she isn't going to push. Not now, when he's doing her hair so nicely.

"All done," he says, moving her plait over her shoulder.

"Thanks Aaron. It looks perfect."

He grins, and she knows she's going to cherish this moment forever. She cherishes it even more when she gets home, and a sick Will can't stop complimenting how pretty she looks.

(She gets sick as soon as he recovers, and Aaron comes over with soup, plaits her hair again, and when she gets better, he sends her and Will to a cute restaurant whilst he babysits Henry because they deserve a night together. She plaits her hair for that as well.)

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous 

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Angst/violence/gore/blood/mentions of prostitution/SMUT(eventual)/veryinaccuratesurgicalprocedure

     Honestly words have been fermenting in my brain for many moons. I am new to this, so please be gentle.  I have written before, however never for a fandom. Special thank you to @yespolkadotkitty and @rzrcst for their support and encouragement, it truly means the world to me.

Summary: You are a nurse on the Green moon contracted to care for a group of prospectors. An act of violence forces you to flee your camp. Ezra finds you.

Words: 2376

 PART ONE

    The first time Ezra fell, it was with the Saters. You’d been hunched in a cordoned-off section of tent, dust motes waxing and waning against the haze of thick, dank air. At least you could breathe, a small mercy it was to remove your helmets and sit unfettered in the musty inner folds of the makeshift barracks.

    The Sater stank. When he sneered at you, his grey lips parted to reveal the jagged tombstones of his teeth. When you had first sat down and dispelled with the perfunctory greetings, choking down the offering of what always reminded you of unsweetened Turkish coffee mixed with engine oil, his eyes made no attempt to hide the way they had raked over you as if you were some shiny toy. Or a bag of meat. You were under no delusions when it came to the fact that you, by nature of being female, were going to be ogled. Still, it left you no less disgusted as you fought to keep your face impassive while his eyes honed in on your chest.

    Ezra sat beside you on the narrow bench, hunched forward with forearms balanced on knees that were spread to allow for his head to clear the sunken canvas ceiling. His expression was equally neutral, the only hint of tension showing in the tight bunch of muscle at his jaw. He knew as well as you that if the sater did not accept the barter, things would turn dark.

    Ezra had been here longer than you. Stranded with no transport after the crew he’d arrived with turned on each other over dig locations and payload disbursement. The pod they’d arrived in had been burned, irreparably damaged and left no more than a husk in the Green due to the short-sighted fury and bullheaded ire of his hired compatriots. In the fracas, he’d sustained an injury to his right arm from a rogue thrower shot. In retrospect it could have been much worse, but the spores of mold that made the air so toxic had worked its way into his flesh the same way selfishness and suspicion had seeded the demise of his partners.

    You were hired as a nurse to tend to your own hired prospecting crew, lured in with promises of adventure and treasures beyond your wildest dreams. You had known there had to be a catch, you were not so naive to believe that consequence could elude you, but you had signed the contract anyway hoping for more than the dreary clinic you’d worked in for the past five years. You were alone, you were lonely, you had no family. Your few friends had steadily drifted away from you as they met their own partners, started their own families. You were left to the ether. So you signed almost without thought when the recruiter came, signed before you had time to think it through, because you were aware that if you thought too much you’d talk yourself out of it. You knew all too well how adept you were at talking yourself out of things.

    So, you’d arrived on the Green and things had proceeded as planned, uneventful for the most part. The others on the crew were respectful, if a bit distant. Nothing untoward had happened until a contractor by the name of Jorin began to take a particular interest in you. At first you’d been able to politely deflect his advances. Showing up in your tent unannounced, he feigned all manner of illness and injury to get your attention. Over time he became more aggressive, invading your space until you had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not welcome. It was not until he’d followed you back to your cot and tried to push you down that you’d snapped. You hadn’t meant to kill him, but the scalpel you had hidden in your fist had found its way to his carotid artery nonetheless. So you left, and you were blank and in shock and covered in someone else’s blood when Ezra found you.

    He’d stood, imposing and straight-backed, hand on hip while his head followed your shambling approach. Your adrenaline was waning, and you shuffled forth on trembling legs, hands held aloft in supplication. When you reached his clearing in the midst of dense vegetation you noted his mouth moving at light-speed, the hand on his hip twitching toward the thrower he had slung across his back. As you got even closer you noticed his eyes were wide. You were not on the same transmission channel so you could not hear him. Your hands gestured as if underwater, left hand tapping your transceiver while your right held up three trembling fingers. When Ezra understood he switched the channel and immediately his animated drawl was filling your helmet.

    “.....cannot fathom how you are standing in my sights looking like you’ve been baptised by Lady Bathory herself, alone? Please do tell this lonely old prospector how in Kevva’s name above you’ve found yourself in such a state of affairs?”

    You noticed immediately that he did not seem at all frightened or wary of your appearance, just confused, and….excited? You gazed up into the visor through a constellation of blood spatter and freed your tongue from its bone-dry cavern, swallowing thickly.

    “I didn’t mean to kill him. He tried to, to…..he came after me.”

    Ezra stepped forward in what seemed a conspiratory move. You froze. Taking note, he’d immediately stepped back, but his dark eyes fastened to yours with an intensity that made you feel as though he could see through you into your very essence, every shameful childhood memory, every flaw and triumph as readable as prose on paper.

    “Intention rarely informs the realities of snuffing out the flame of mortality. Between intention and action there lay an endless array of variables, something I know as well as my own name. In all my time on the Green the one thing that continues to ring true is that people here take. If you have nothing to offer, they will find something to take.” 

    He straightened before continuing, “Given that you are appreciably female I can imagine what it is he believed himself entitled to. You have none of that to fear from me, little stranger. I am but one lost soul amongst this verdant hellscape.”

    You were still processing the events of the past several hours, and it took you some time to accustom your ears to the man’s mellifluous cadence. The people in your previous company had been stilted, blunt, mostly monosyllabic. This man before you spoke as if convinced his words would alight and manifest whatever sacred force or unimagined color the universe deemed fit to spew forth. It was incongruous. You considered your next words carefully before you spoke.

    “Do you have a dwelling? A tent? I hate to impose, but this is my only suit and I’d like to get as much blood out of it as I can.”

    That was how you’d become acquainted with Ezra. You’d exchanged names as you walked to his tent, and all the while Ezra pontificated. The tent was modest, two cots arranged across from one another. Equipment stacked along one canvas wall, while texts and notebooks spread across a folding table toward the front entrance. Ezra explained where the water source was located as you both disconnected your helmets and stripped your suits. The blood splashed across yours had dried to a dull rust. Almost as if it could be something other than blood. Almost. 

    You’d set the suit to soak in cold water and truly noticed the man in front of you for the first time. He was tall and broad-shouldered, thick locks jutting chaotically from the dome of his head and curling around the lobes of his ears. A shock of blond colored the seam of his hairline. His brow was lined with years of tension and unrest. Wide, dark eyes below pronounced brows. A prominent aquiline nose. His mouth, still moving. Always moving, as if he were trying to get every thought he had out of his head before the hourglass ran out on him.

    Your eyes were next drawn to a dirty bandage circling his arm. You’d been so lost in your head over the strange turn of events that you did not notice the barely perceptible wince as he inventoried what appeared to be dried ration packets.

    “What happened? To your arm, I mean?”

    Ezra sighed deeply before answering. “Merely a flesh wound from an errant thrower blast while my crew and I were in the midst of parting ways. It was a most unsavory affair, I’m afraid. I don’t believe the weasel wielding the staff even meant to shoot me.”

    You stepped closer, eyeing the torn, worried cloth. “You have to be careful. The spores in the air will seep into everything, especially an open wound. Your bandage is filthy. Do you mind if I take a look?”

    “You have experience with dressing wounds?”

    “I’m a nurse.”

    You were wholly unprepared for the brilliant smile that split his face. Suddenly you could see the younger, roguish man that he had undoubtedly once been. You were suddenly overwhelmed, you could not understand how the heart in your chest fluttered as desperately as a bird beating its wings against the cage of your ribs. You felt close to panic as you realized that you were reacting this way to a man you did not know. 

    Careful.

    “Kevva above, I must have done something right in a past life as I’ve done nothing in this one to deserve such a fortuitous gift! A nurse! An angel of mercy, a dove of benevolence!”

    You felt heat rush to your face, and you cursed your feeble emotions as you turned quickly away from him. Please, ignore my abject idiocy. 

    “Med kit?”

    “Ah, of course. My apologies, Dove, I forget myself.”

    You pointedly ignored the unprompted endearment as any further contemplation on this new development would lead to literal hysteria. What the fuck is wrong with me?

    Ezra sat at the table near the entrance, sweeping the array of notebooks and papers to the side. You pulled up a crate once taking the med kit and unwrapped the soiled bandaging. You understood how awkward it had to be to dress a wound with one hand, and so you were able to forgive the haphazard application. He hissed and winced again as you revealed a very red, open and angry wound bed assaulting the meat of his right bicep. Black had begun to settle in around the ragged edges. It did not look good. Your gut sank as you noticed the purplish pucker of skin surrounding a crater that oozed and tunneled, purulent drainage saturating the underlying gauze. 

    The mold had done a spectacular job of decaying what would have normally been a straight forward traumatic thrower wound. You were shocked that Ezra was not screaming in pain.

    You kept your face studiously blank as you set out supplies: a vial of Ancef, sterile saline, bandaging, gauze, antimicrobial foam, hydrogen peroxide, a basin, and the scalpel you’d kept clutched in your fist as you’d fled. There was an injectable narcotic preloaded, you offered this to Ezra and he shook his head, his eyes still and worried. He knew it was bad, and he was scared. A wave of melancholy slammed into you and without thinking, you reached out and laid your fingers gently on his wrist.

    “Hey.” He met your eyes, and they were old. Ancient, and filled with what was akin to an existential weariness. You had to dig the toe of your boot into your calf to keep your eyes from filling with tears. You cleared your throat. It did not sound like a noise you’d make. You wondered who you were, really, before speaking.

    “I’m going to do the best that I can. It won’t be pretty. Your wound is badly infected. The black bits are necrotic, and if I don’t debride your wound it will spread. I’m going to try my hardest to save your arm. This is going to hurt, so I really think you should take the injection.”

    Ezra’s solemn gaze swung to fasten on yours. After a pause of internal debate, he simply nodded. You filled the basin with hydrogen peroxide and placed the scalpel in. You picked up the preloaded syringe and sterile gauze and quickly discharged the narcotic serum into Ezra’s left deltoid. His eyes soon took on a haze of detachment, pupils constricting to pinpoints.

    You picked up the scalpel and got to work, and Ezra finally screamed.

    He kept his arm impressively still while sweat cut rivulets down the planes of his face. His jaw clenched so tightly you feared his teeth would crack and splinter- you’d finally and wordlessly paused your work to place a length of spare leather strapping between his teeth, which he clamped onto like a feral dog.

    You worked quickly and wordlessly, cutting ribbons of spoiled flesh from the blessedly granulating bed of tissue and muscle beneath. Your mind worked in circular prayer, asking forgiveness from the universe for killing, for hurting. Ezra’s flesh was a sacred scroll and you were inscribing your texts upon it, begging for deliverance. It was not lost on you that the same scalpel you’d used to snuff one life was carving death out of another.

    When the deed was done, you reconstituted the Ancef and injected it into the meat of his buttock. You did it quickly, too wrung out and disturbed to feel impure. There was nothing prurient about what had just happened, nothing sexy in his agony. For all of its intimacy it was brutal and ugly and traumatic. At that moment you were inextricably bound to one another.

[simpsiren]

closer to you

lee jeno x reader

main masterlist

the sequel

description. you’re in a 2 year relationship with jaemin. the two of you know very well that you arent each other’s soulmates but you still felt that jaemin was the right one for you. that is until you are celebrating your 2 year anniversary with jaemin that memories of you being with someone else in your so called “past life” starts coming back to you, as if wanting to make you realise that your soulmate is still out there.

genre. soulmate au, strangers to lovers au, fluff and angst

warnings. none? except for the fact that reader becomes violent in their words when they’re stressed i guess

a/n. literally got this idea from the flashback tiktoks thats been appearing in my fyp. like ive seen it so many times that i just had to write about it HAHA alrighty thats all enjoyy :D

when the idea of soulmates was first represented to humans, humans deeply believed in it, and would follow the idea of it religiously to find the one that they are truly meant to be with. however, now in the modern day, the idea of soulmates is slowly disappearing. people still believe that the number engraved on the side of their right foot is the time and date that they’ll meet their soulmates, but people of this generation start ignoring that fact, marrying someone that isnt even their soulmate. it left their actual soulmate to either die alone, or having to force themselves to love and marry someone else other than their soulmate.

and now here you are, surrounded by your friends with jaemin sitting next to you, your boyfriend of two years who’s number on the side of his foot does not match yours.

“blow out the candles already!” you hear johnny screaming. you and jaemin turn to look at each other at the same time, giving a smile before blowing out the two candles on the red velvet cheesecake that signified your two year relationship with jaemin.

you laugh loudly as everyone claps for the two of you. jaemin quickly places a peck on your cheek, making everyone smile widely. “i love you.” jaemin whispers into your ear.

“i love you too.”

“do you really not care who your actually soulmate is? you know very well jaemin isnt yours.” you purse your lips into a thin line as you find jaehyun leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom.

“does it look like i care? who the hell even cares? ill be with who i wanna be! i aint gonna follow some ‘oh you’re destined to be with this guy’ type bullshit.” you giggle to yourself as you took a sip the whiskey in hand, despite already being in a very drunken state.

jaehyun walks over to you and snatches the glass away from you. you whine and beg for it back, but you know all too well that jaehyun is not going to give you what you want. you let out a huff in response.

“my god, evaline. how drunk can you be?” jaehyun takes a seat on the chair that faces your bed, in which you are currently rolling on and mumbling to yourself about god knows what.

jaehyun sighs as he looks at you. he’s been your friend for almost forever yet he still cant get over the fact that no matter how hard he tries to persuade you that jaemin isnt your soulmate, you give zero fucks about it.

“i really hope he comes in your dreams or something. if i can’t convince you, then why isnt the world doing anything about it?” jaehyun whispers to himself, resting his chin on his palm as his elbow is placed on the arm rest of the chair.

you wake up with a sharp pain in your head. you wince as you slowly tried to sit up straight. you rub your eyes and try looking around your room. everything is normal, except for the fact that jaehyun is sleeping on your chair. you shrug your shoulders as you let out a long sigh and stare at the door in front of you, spacing out for a little. after at least five minutes of you doing nothing and staring off into who knows what, you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed. you stagger your way over to jaehyun.

“jae, wake up already. make me something to sober up- ouch!”

your foot suddenly hurt, making you stumble back and fall onto the floor. you flinched in fear when you realise the number on your foot is glowing. you scream in pain as you feel as though something thin and sharp is constantly stabbing your foot. the spinning in your head only made it worse. jaehyun wakes up from all your screaming and drops down on the floor to assist you quickly.

“evaline? eva! what’s wrong? wait why’s it glowing..” jaehyun eyes travel from your scrunched up face to your leg, noticing the number that’s glowing.

suddenly, your vision became blurry. you lost sight of what’s happening around you. you dont see your room and jaehyun in front of you anymore. you struggled as you try to squint your eyes to get your vision to be clear. it took awhile for your vision to come back. and when it did, something wasnt right.

it was like you were having a flashback. a flashback to a time you were unfamiliar with. you didn’t remember experiencing it at all. but the flasback looked like memories that you feel a sudden strong connection with.

the flashback was vivid. you couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. you saw a guy, estimated to be around your age, who’s smiling widely till his eyes form a thin line and holding up a polaroid camera to your point of view. you heard him laugh as snaps a picture and the camera’s flash shined your view. you soon focused your vision again onto the guy. he’s waiting for the film to develop. and that’s all you saw. a small snippet of a far distant memory which you arent even sure if it happened.

after that, you snapped out of your odd trance. you feel jaehyun shaking your shoulders with the look of extreme concern on your face. you bring your hand up to your head and scratch it slowly as you tilt your head in awe. jaehyun stops his actions as looks at you wierdly.

“what the fuck did i just experience?” you mumble to yourself, trying to process what you just went through. you look up from the floor to see jaehyun blinking his eyes rapidly.

“you saw what?”

you were this close to slapping jaehyun in the face.

“how many times do i have to fucking repeat myself?! i got a flashback of a memory of some random dude that i dont even know about!”

jaehyun’s mouth remains open in shock and confusion. it took him a few seconds to process your words. and when it did, he places both his hands on the table.

“its a sign.” your forehead creases as you look at him weirdly.

“the fuck you just say?” you pick up your fork and stab it into your freshly cooked fried chicken meal.

“is this the first time you experience it?” jaehyun asks you as he takes a sip of water. you took a moment to think about it.

“yeah it is.” you breathe out. jaehyun only nodded his head. he starts thinking about what he wished for that night had something to do with what happened to you.

“you know what? forget it. i need to meet up with jaemin for our date. ill see you around.” you finish what’s left on your plate, waving to jaehyun before leaving the restaurant.

jaehyun watches your back as you slowly disappear into the distance. “it cant be... can it?” jaehyun shakes his head and continues eating.

“hey, babe. how was lunch with jaehyun?” jaemin wraps his arm around your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.

“it was good. let’s get ice cream.” you give off a wide smile and dragged jaemin to the famous ice cream shop that you were dying to try.

by the time you were halfway to finishing your ice cream, it was already 8pm. you’re weekly ice cream date with jaemin never fails to be extended as your chats with him grow longer and longer with every date.

as jaemin was talking, your mind goes back to the time you had that odd flashback. you wonder what it meant, or whats the significance of it. why did that suddenly happen to you? what can you do to make it go away? because for all you know, you have everything you need right here, in front of you. you had jaemin.

“eva? hello~?” jaemin waves his hand in front of you to snap you back into reality. you shake your head vigorously. “oh shit im sorry jaemin what did you say?” jaemin smiles softly as he repeats over what he say.

it was about 10pm and you decided it was finally time to go home. you would have taken the train alone but jaemin insisted on accompanying you home and going back by himself after. you and jaemin were walking down the street that will lead to your apartment when jaemin sudden opens his mouth to ask you something.

“did you ever believe about the soulmate thing?” you stop walking and turn your body to face jaemin. jaemin does the same, shoving his hands in his pockets.

you shrug your shoulder and placed your weight on one leg. “i used to, but i slowly started to think it was ridiculous and that i should be able to love who i want, not someone im destined to be with.” you reply, slowly reaching your hand out to run your hand through jaemin’s hair. he smiles at your touch and pulls you in with your other arm, hugging you gently.

“im glad to be the one that you love, despite the fact that im not who you’re destined to be with.” jaemin strokes your hair and digs his head into the crook of your neck. you rub his back slowly. “me too.” you kiss jaemin on the cheek and pull away, smiling softly. “come on, we’re almost at my apartment.” your hands trailed down to meet jaemin’s, interlocking your fingers with his and you both continued walking down the long street.

however, for the first time, it felt as though jaemin’s hand didn’t sit right with yours, like his hand didnt belong to fit in yours. you look down at the interlocking hands. you never felt this way before. why did it occur to you only now?

“something on your mind, eva?” you hear jaemin ask. you shot your gaze up from your jaemin’s hand to his eyes, shaking your head as you faked a smile.

weird

a week has passed since that weird encounter of yours. you couldn’t get it out of your head. every hour of the day you’ll spare a few minutes thinking about it. why did you feel so connected to it? you felt eager to know about what i meant. why did a few seconds of experiencing a distant memory would be etched into your mind as you constantly replay what you saw that time?

you found it funny how you were already so deep in your thoughts early in the morning. you lay in bed looking through your social medias for awhile before getting out of bed to head to the living room.

you see jaehyun sitting on the couch, immensely concentrated on whatever’s on the television screen. you take a seat beside jaehyun, looking down, you see him munching on a bowl of popcorn.

“popcorn for breakfast. really?” you raise an eyebrow as jaehyun nods his head and offers the bowl. you take it regardless of your comment and stuffed popcorn in your mouth.

“you didn’t shower yet?” jaehyun asks. you only shrug in reply. jaehyun looks at you with a disguested look.

“i bet you didn’t shower either, now did you?” jaehyun kept quiet as his eyes widened yet still glued onto the screem. you observed his reaction and scoff, rolling your eyes. “idiot.” jaehyun glances at you and chukles, reaching out to take a handful of popcorn.

“what are you even watching?”

“a movie that i didn’t finish last night.” that explains the popcorn then.

you focus your mind on the movie, despite not knowing what it’s about. everything seemed normal until you see a couple suddenly come on screen. they’re apparently at a amusement park.

almost instantly, you lost sight of your surroundings. oh no.. it’s happening again. you shut your eyes tightly as your vision became blurry once again. you opened your eyes widely to find yourself at an amusement park. a flashback is now occuring, this time it was different.

the flashback. it wasnt a memory you’re unfamiliar with. its jaemin. you see jaemin come into view. it looked like you were taken back to your third date where jaemin brought you to an amusement park. you see him running in front of you happily. jaemin was about to turn around, and you remembered that exactly after that he smiled at you. but he doesn’t. you realise that its not even jaemin.

the one you’re seeing now is the guy from your previous flashback. the polaroid guy. he smiled the exact same way he did when he took the picture of you in the flashback. the guy reaches out to take your hand and you’re being pulled towards him. why does it feel like you’ve seen him somewhere? or maybe you haven’t, but feel like you would some time in the future.

“eva? god, evaline! wake up please!” you hear jaehyun’s voice.

“did it happened agai-“

“it happened again.”

you look around. everything was back to normal. you look at jaehyun. but his eyes were fixated on your foot, he looks shocked. you slowly tilt your head down to look at the number on your right foot. it changed. the number.. reshuffled themselves?

“you’re seeing that too right..?”

you nod your head slowly. its getting more weird. the number on your foot said that you’ll meet your “soulmate” on february 12th, 2020 at 7:06pm. but now, it changed itself to become december 6th, 2020 at 2:19am.

basically it went from 12.02.2020 19:06 to 06.12.2020 02:19

“did i space out again?” you look up at jaehyun as he nod slowly, still looking at your foot in shock. you couldn’t blame him. what happen? did it somehow extended the time you’re about to meet your soulmate? why did it happen? what does it mean?

you told jaehyun what happen. and he almost fainted. you let out a long sigh.

“im telling you its a sign. probably the guy you’re seeing is your soulmate.” jaehyun says lazily and he muched on some strawberry pocky.

“then why was jaemin in the flashback too? isnt it weird?” jaehyun nods his head quickly. he puts down the pack of pocky on his lap and blinks a couple of times. you see the gears turning in his head as you assume that he’s trying to come up with an explanation.

“maybe jaemin’s tied to the guy? like maybe jaemin knows him. or the dude’s from your past life and somehow jaemin is representing the guy in your present life.” jaehyun looks down to see his pocky was stolen from you. you nod your head and you continuously stuffed each stick into your mouth and eating them. “urgh i dont fucking know what to do about this!” you groan in frustration. suddenly, something hits you.

“wait. what’s today’s date?”

jaehyun lifts his phone up to check. “30th november. why?” jaehyun asks. “oh wait.”

“you’re telling me i have a full week until i meet my so called soulmate that i dont even know where ill meet him?!”

you scoff in disbelief. jaehyun doesnt respond, only staring at your face like he’s seen a ghost.

“can i somehow break someone’s neck and slam it on the wall for like i dont know, 5 hours?!”

no reply from jaehyun once again.

“oh for fuck’s sake i cant do this! im heading to johnny’s tea shop for my depression tea. meet me there if you want, i’ll probably be there the whole day as my head constantly spins.”

you quickly got up from the couch and get ready. jaehyun sees you coming out of your room with a hoodie and plain wide legged jeans. you only grab your phone and keys and waved jaehyun goodbye before leaving the apartment. jaehyun sighs.

“i might have set her temper circuit short.” jaehyun whispers to himself and sighs, getting off the couch as well to head over to johnny’s tea shop. “literally could have drove her there but oh well.”

when you enter the shop, johnny face lit up with a huge smile. he runs over to hug you but his smile soon fades away and into a confused look when he sees how pissed you look.

“that’s very... interesting.” johnny comments. you sigh and nod, fiddling with the teaspoon in your drink. “yeah well its not going to be fun once jaemin knows.” johnny stops in his actions and looks up at you. your eyes glanced at johnny before tilting your head up from the drink that wrapped around your hands.

“yes i haven’t told jaemin. i didn’t think it meant anything at first but now...”

“you have to tell him! soon! its a sign!” johnny exclaims. you smacked your hand onto your forehead lightly. “i’ve heard that phrase countless of times by jaehyun and now you too? can you please explain?” you whine, scratching your head vigorously as you argrily take a sip of tea.

you were stressed, very stressed. life was going so well until this happened. you dont know who the mystery guy is. you dont know why he’s “memories” with you suddenly come back, especially when you’re in a really intimate relationship with jaemin. the same question keeps repeating in your head over and over each day and it gets more stressful when you try to think of an answer for them.

“no no listen. it happened to my relative. she was 3 months away from marrying her boyfriend who’s number doesnt match hers. and then she started getting weird flashbacks and she said that the number on her foot changed so that she wouldn’t miss a chance to meet her soulmate in the future instead of the past. and the so called memories? they’re memories that you’ll make with your soulmate once you meet them. the world is trying to make you realise that the guy in your flashbacks is your soulmate and not jaemin.”

you kept silent. so what jaehyun said was right. it was a sign to encourage you to find your real soulmate instead of settling for the one you arent meant to be with. you let out a sigh of relief as you finally know the background information to your whole situation.

“that’s a lot to take in.. how am i suppose to tell jaemin?” you frown as you look out the window. you love jaemin, very much. but to be honest, for the whole 2 years of your relationship with him, everything felt perfect, yet something was off. you never managed to pin point what, until now.

“oh i texted him just now when you were talking to me and he’s coming since he wants to see you.” great. you arent mentally prepared to tell jaemin yet and he’s going to arrive here in 15 minutes.

“evaline! johnny texted me saying you were here and i immediately rushed over.” jaemin comes up from behind and kisses your cheek. you purse your lips into a thin line and you look to johnny leaving his seat. he nods his head, in a way to give you confidence to tell jaemin about the whole ordeal.

“jaemin.. i have to tell you something.” when jaemin takes the seat where johnny sat, you reach your hand out to grab his, slowly soothing your thumb over his skin. “mhm yeah what?” you look up from his hand to his face.

“ive been getting um.. signs lately. flashbacks. jaehyun told me that the guy, who’s always the main subject of my flashbacks could be my soulmate. and i might be meeting him soon, on 6th december.” you whisper to him, biting your lip.

jaemin swallows his own saliva, blinking at you a few times as he tries to process what you said. he lets out a long sigh and painfully puts on a soft smile.

“i knew it was going to happen to one of us sooner. ive heard about the flashbacks. its bound to happen sooner or later.” you nod your head in response.

“im sorry, jaemin. i love you very much-“

“its fine. i understand. im glad the world made you realise that you’re soulmate is still wondering around somewhere, and that it isnt me. im happy i got to spend 2 years loving you.. it made me feel good.” you interlocked your fingers with his, smiling softly before letting go.

you could tell jaemin was hurt. like a knife was stabbed into his heart. you see it behind his smile, his eyes. you knew him all too well.

“we’ll still be friends. and i hope you’re soulmate will come to you.”

jaemin only nods. you lean in and give one last passionate kiss on the cheek before hearing the bell above the door ringing, and noticing that jaehyun has arrived.

december 3rd, 2020. you’re three days away to meeting your soulmate. where? you werent sure.

“good morning, evaline.” you hear jaehyun say. you just got out of bed and you were walking to the kitchen when you see what jaehyun was doing. he’s reading a book. your vision went blank.

its another flashback. you start to mentally prepare yourself as yoh want to absorb as much information as possible on your soulmate in the small portion of the memories.

“the book’s is interesting.” you’re hearing your soulmates voice. you try to figure out if you’ve heard it or not, but shake it out of your head when yoh remember your goal of gathering information. you registered the tone of his voice.

he’s sitting on a bed with round gold glasses on, in his pajamas.

your soulmate laughs. the same way he did the first time. he turns the book to you and it showed his phone betweem the pages of the book, resting there. “just joking!” you hear him say. you take a look at the wallpaper of your soulmate’s lockscreen. it was a picture of him kissing your cheek. it looked oddly the same as the picture you and jaemin once took together. however, there was a text above the picture. evaline heather and lee jeno

lee jeno. that’s the name of your soulmate.

december 5th, 2020. you’re starting to mentally prepare yourself. you dont know where you’re about to meet him. you tried coming up with all possibilities. to be frank, you were more excited about whether the places you thought of might be the place you meet your soulmate rather than being nervous.

the three flashbacks you had. it felt all too familiar. like you’ve known this lee jeno person forever. you feel the connection each time.

when the clock strikes 12am, your mind unknowingly decides to go to the park. the park where you and jaemin first met. you dont know why. it felt like your body was urging you to go there. you lazily got ready and headed out the door, of course you told jaehyun about your outing before leaving the apartment.

you had your hands shoved into your pockets with your hoodie on as you yawned. you breathed in the night air, admiring it dearly. when you reached the park, a quick glance at your phone told you that its 2am. you sigh and took a seat on the bench mindlessly after walking around the park.

you sat there for a few minutes, looking up into the sky and staring off into the distance. suddenly, you felt a presence next to you. you turn your head over to see a guy.

“you seemed pretty lonely so i brought ice cream-“

that voice.

“what’s your name?” you interrupt

the guy pauses and smiles. his face, his smile. its just like the one in your flashback.

“lee jeno. you?”

you didn’t reply. its him. he’s your soulmate, he’s here.

“why does it feel like ive known you for a very long time..?” you slowly started to ask as your eyes looked at him up and down.

jeno chuckles. “maybe..” you see jeno taking off his slipper on his right foot and lifting up his foot. you see the exact number that’s engraved on your foot.

“im your soulmate.”

[noona-clock]

A Million Times Over

Genre: Royalty!AU

Pairing: Changkyun x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,078

"You can do this,” you whispered to yourself. “You can do this.” 

After briefly closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you reached out to the door handle in front of you, pushing the large, wooden door open.

“I do not want any visitors!” your older sister cried out as soon as you stepped into her chambers. But then she actually turned around to see you, and her expression of consternation fell. “Ah. Sister... my apologies.”

Of course, upon her exclamation, you had been ready to turn right back around and flee. “You don’t want me to leave?” you asked cautiously.

“No, please, come in,” your sister answered.

After carefully closing the door behind you, you strode forward toward her, clasping your hands together anxiously. You knew you had to word your next sentence carefully otherwise your sister would regret letting you come into her chambers.

So, you took another deep breath and said, “I know our parents expect you to marry Prince Changkyun, and I don’t see any way around it other than --”

“If you’ve come here to try and convince me to do it, then leave,” she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest and turning back around to stare out of her window. “I can’t marry him, Y/N! I don’t love him! I don’t even know him!”

And while that was certainly not a credible argument when one was a Princess... you knew what she wasn’t saying.

It’s not just that she didn’t love him.

It’s that she was already in love with someone else.

But... he was a commoner. A very esteemed and, frankly, wealthy blacksmith, but a commoner nonetheless. And your parents would disown your sister before they let her spurn a Prince’s proposal in favor of a blacksmith. No matter how esteemed, no matter how wealthy, and no matter how handsome he was.

(And, believe me, he was handsome.)

“Please, you didn’t let me finish,” you told her gently, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. Your heart was pounding as you prepared to say what you’d come here to say, as you prepared to change everything -- both her life and yours. “I don’t see any way around it other than... to marry him myself.”

Your sister, unsurprisingly, gasped, whirling around to face you with her eyes widened, mouth agape. “Wh -- You -- Y/N... you would really do that for me?”

“Of course, I would,” you assured her, taking a step closer to her and reaching to take one of her hands in yours. “You’re my sister. I know how much you love Shownu. I could not bear to see you so unhappily married to someone else for the rest of your life simply because of who your parents are.”

Your sister pressed her lips together as her eyes filled with tears, and she clutched at your hand, unable to say anything yet. So, you continued.

“You didn’t ask to be born a Princess. You have found someone you want to give your heart to, and it isn’t fair that you shouldn’t be allowed to marry him.”

With a shake of her head, your sister finally spoke. “But it isn’t fair for you to marry a stranger, either. How can I let you do this?”

“I don’t have anyone waiting for me like you do,” you pointed out with a soft smirk. “And, believe me, if I had the most handsome blacksmith in the entire world ready to give his heart to me, I would expect you to do exactly what I am doing now.”

“Yes, you are right,” your sister chuckled. “I would do the same for you.”

Without letting another moment pass by, you stepped up to her and pulled her into a tight hug, feeling a lump begin to form in your throat because you knew what would happen next. And after it happened, you would probably never see her again.

But you pulled away, anyway. You smiled at her, and said, “Let’s get you packed. I’ve sent a messenger to Shownu, and he will be waiting for you outside of the castle.”

Not for the first time in the span of five minutes, your sister’s expression turned to one of shock. Before she could say anything, though, you put your hands on her shoulders and turned her toward her wardrobe. “Come, come. You must hurry! Prince Changkyun will be arriving soon, and you mustn’t be here when he does. He won’t be able to argue with his choice of bride if I am the only choice he has.”

For the next twenty minutes or so, you aided your sister in picking out a few dresses -- none too fancy, of course -- and filling up a knapsack with things she would need on her journey. 

Once she had packed everything, you snuck her out of her chambers, leading her down one of the side staircases. You’d written to Shownu in your missive that he should meet her by the servant’s entrance of the castle, and you assumed he would already be there by now.

Just before you arrived at the small, unassuming door, you paused. Your sister furrowed her brow, watching as you reached inside your cloak for a pouch filled with gold coins. Even though Shownu had proven he could make a handsome living from his trade, you still wanted to send them off with enough money to get by -- and it would ease your mind knowing they weren’t traveling around destitute.

“My dear, I cannot take that,” your sister hissed. She obviously knew you had taken every last coin from your secret savings hiding place, but you thrust the pouch into her hands, anyway.

“I have no need of it,” you assured her in a whisper. “Especially if I am to marry a Prince.”

You then took off your cloak and placed it around her shoulders, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat and the tears in your eyes. “Be safe,” you urged just before you opened the door.

As expected, Shownu was waiting just a few yards away. He lifted his head as soon as you nudged your sister through the doorway, his eyes -- his whole face, really -- lighting up when he saw her.

And if you’d had any doubt whatsoever about this plan, his expression would have wiped it all away.

You knew that a love as strong and true as theirs did not come easy; it was practically a once in a lifetime occurrence. You could never and would never force her to marry someone else when she’d already found love, and to be honest, you could hardly believe your parents would.

“I will send word as soon as I can,” your sister promised, grabbing your hands and clutching them. She brought them up to her mouth and pressed a brief kiss on your knuckles before adding, “Thank you, my darling sister. I cannot tell you how much this means to me.”

You simply replied with a watery grin, nodding at her words and pushing her toward her future husband.

Shownu bowed his head in your direction, silently thanking you before he put his arm around your sister’s shoulders and led her off toward the lower town.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes never leaving their forms as they traveled farther and farther away from you. And as soon as they were out of sight, you quickly wiped a stray tear from your cheek and turned back into the castle.

“Where is your sister?” your mother murmured to you as you stood in the Throne Room a few hours later, awaiting the imminent arrival of the King and Queen with their son, Prince Changkyun. 

Also known as your future husband.

Your heart skipped a beat when you said, “I -- I’m not sure. I believe she mentioned last night that she was feeling a bit ill. Maybe she is resting.”

You truly couldn’t remember the last time you’d lied to your parents. It would be a miracle if your mother believed you.

“I don’t recall hearing her say that...” she hummed, but before you could try to convince her your sister really and truly had, the large, wooden door began to creak open toward you. Your mother then hissed, “Stand up straight, darling. Smile!”

You obeyed, pushing your shoulders back and forcing a soft, polite grin onto your lips.

The King and Queen entered first, beaming as they came to greet your parents. The four of them were, apparently, old friends, though you had never met them (or their son) before.

...And speaking of their son.

You assumed the young man trailing behind them was the very person you’d never met before, and as soon as your eyes landed on him...

Your eyebrows shot halfway up your forehead.

He was... well, he was handsome, wasn’t he?

For some reason you couldn’t put into words, you hadn’t predicted that the man you had to marry would actually be good-looking. 

You watched -- stared at, actually -- him as he, too, approached your mother and father, allowing his own parents to introduce him.

“This is our youngest,” your father said, gesturing toward you. “Y/N.”

You jerked a little at the mention of your name, and you automatically dipped into a curtsy.

“Where is your eldest?” the King asked curiously in return.

“She is confined to her chamber with an ailment,” your mother explained hastily. “I do apologize she is not here to meet you, but I can assure you she will be well again quickly.”

You had forced yourself to look at the King and Queen after your father had introduced you, but the mention of your older sister had your gaze wandering away from them. You were fearful that, if they looked into your eyes then, they would’ve known what your mother had told them was a lie.

So, instead of looking at them, you found yourself looking at the Prince.

...Who turned out to be looking right back at you.

You averted your gaze shyly but briefly, shifting back to look at him and silently greeting him with a small, nervous grin.

He bowed his head at you in return before nodding toward his parents and then rolling his eyes.

A snort of a laugh burst through your lips, though you hastily covered it up with a couple of coughs. When Changkyun’s mother remarked that she hoped you were not afflicted with the same illness as your older sister, you assured her you were perfectly healthy.

One glance back at Changkyun made it very clear how utterly amused he now was. You shot him a look to make sure he knew his actions -- especially the eye-rolling -- had been quite uncalled for!

Surprising and hilarious, yes, but still uncalled for!

After a few minutes of small talk, your mother called forth a servant to show the family to their respective chambers. They had just endured quite a long journey, after all, and needed some time to rest.

But you knew better.

You knew your mother was more concerned about your sister’s absence and wanted to wait no longer to investigate. Which meant you had very little time left to enjoy the feeling of your parents not being incredibly angry with you.

And, as you expected, as soon as the King, Queen, and Prince Changkyun stepped out of the Throne Room, your mother strode toward the door and called out your name to accompany her.

You followed her through the castle silently, holding your breath once the two of you reached your sister’s door.

When your mother gently knocked, you closed your eyes.

When she knocked again, you bit your lip.

When she opened the door, you prepared to make a run for it.

Even if you did make a run for it, though, you wouldn’t get far. And running away from a problem certainly wasn’t something a Princess should do... I mean, unless that Princess is being forced to marry someone she doesn’t know and is already in love with someone else who loves her back just as much. Then running away is perfectly acceptable!

“Y/N,” your mother called out sternly.

Your heart leaped up into your throat. “...Yes, mother?” you replied innocently.

She appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised and angry and impatient. “Where is she?”

After gently clearing your throat, pressing your lips together, and clasping your hands in front of your stomach, you looked your mother in the eye and calmly told her, “She is gone.”

“WHA --”

“She is gone, and she is not coming back, and I am going to marry Prince Changkyun in her place.”

Your mother told you -- in not so many words -- to go straight to her’s and your father’s chambers to discuss this, and when you tried to assure her there was nothing she could do to change your mind, she simply glared at you.

There was almost nothing you liked less than getting in trouble with your parents, but this was something you just had to take. You would marry Prince Changkyun for your sister a million times over.

Over an hour later, you and your parents were back in the Throne Room, waiting yet again for the King, Queen, and Prince Changkyun to arrive.

After a long discussion which had ended in tears -- both happy and sad -- your parents had finally accepted your plan. And now they just had to tell the King and Queen that their son would not be marrying whom he thought he would be.

You just hoped he wouldn’t mind.

When the door opened and your future husband and in-laws appeared, you took a deep breath, torn between keeping your eyes glued to them as they approached and avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Please forgive us for the sudden interruption,” your father apologized. “There is something we must discuss with you of a very... sensitive nature.”

“Yes, what is it?” the King inquired.

“As it happens... We all know that your son came along with you to marry my eldest daughter, but as it happens, she... My younger daughter has -- she has offered --”

You couldn’t bear to hear your father stumbling over his words any longer, so you took it upon yourself to interrupt.

“You will be marrying me instead,” you told them.

From there, things were kind of a blur. Your parents started talking to Changkyun’s parents about you, your sister, the wedding, the treaty between the two kingdoms...

You had kind of zoned out -- even though the conversation was about you, you were certainly not involved in it -- but then Changkyun suddenly appeared by yourself.

“Shall we escape?” he muttered through the side of his mouth.

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead as you looked over at him with surprise. “Escape? What do you --”

Changkyun quickly grabbed your hand and began to creep toward the door. After a few steps, he broke out into a run, pulling you along behind him in a harried state of confusion.

You heard four voices calling behind you, but Changkyun didn’t stop as the two of you reached the door.

Once out into the passageway, you realized he wouldn’t know where to go, so you began to direct him outside to your favorite tree on the castle grounds. Your father had had a swing installed on one of the sturdy branches when you and your sister were little, and you still liked to sit on it from time to time. It was the best place you’d found to think and have some peace and quiet.

Once you pointed out the tree to Changkyun, he began to slow down, and as soon as the two of you reached the swing, he let go of your hand.

“Sorry,” he chuckled breathlessly. “I just... had to get away.”

“When other people start talking about your future and don’t even include you in the conversation... I know exactly how you feel,” you replied. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you slid onto the swing, your toes brushing over the grass below.

Changkyun leaned against the tree next to you and crossed his arms over his chest. “So. What happened to your sister?”

It was your instinct to tell him it was none of his business... but it actually kind of was. She had once been his future bride, and he certainly had the right to know why he would be marrying somebody else.

“She... was already in love with someone else. A blacksmith. They ran away together because I told her I would take her place.”

After a few silent moments, Changkyun murmured, “You really did that for her?” His tone was one of quiet reverence, making it obvious he was somewhat in awe of your actions.

“I did,” you confirmed with a slow nod. “She’s my sister, and I love her more than I love myself. I wouldn’t have been able to stand it if she lived the rest of her life in unhap --”

You cut yourself off immediately.

You’d almost forgotten that Changkyun -- the very person you were talking to -- would have been the one aiding in your sister’s unhappiness.

“No, it’s all right,” he assured you with a soft, deep laugh. “I understand. She would’ve been unhappy being married to me while being in love with someone else. Who wouldn’t be unhappy in that situation?”

You simply shot him a wary, apologetic smile.

“...You’re not in love with someone else, are you?” he asked as he pushed himself away from the tree trunk and moved to stand behind you.

“No,” you answered, a smile lifting the corners of your lips when you felt him gently push you away from him. “Are you?”

“No, I am not.”

Well, at least there was that. Neither of you was in love with someone else. Surely, that would increase your chances of having a happy marriage.

Right?

Changkyun pushed you in the swing again, his hands whisper-soft on your back, and after a few swings... you realized your heart would speed up when you started to swing back toward him. His impending touch was making you anxious but not necessarily in a bad way.

...Actually, not in a bad way at all.

You had just met him earlier today, and your heart was already racing because he was touching your back?

“I have to admit,” he said just after he pushed you away again. He waited until you’d swung back to him to continue his thought, and instead of putting his hands on your back, he took a gentle hold of your waist to temporarily stop the swing. And then you felt him lean in and place his mouth right by your ear. “When I first saw you, I thought you were... pleasing.”

Your forehead instantly wrinkled. “Pleasing?” you asked. Even though you were hyper-aware of his hands on your waist, you were too curious and confused by his choice of word to keep quiet.

“Pleasing... like, to look at,” he replied.

A smirk tugged at your lips, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. “Are you trying to tell me that you find me beautiful?”

Changkyun’s awkward chuckle ruffled your hair and sent a chill down your spine -- the good kind of chill.

“Yes,” he answered with a somewhat bashful tone. And then he pulled you back just a bit, obviously preparing to continue pushing you in the swing. Just as he let go of you, he added, “You are very beautiful, Your Highness.”

“Well,” you began as your cheeks warmed. “You are rather handsome yourself.”

“Do you think a marriage can survive on good looks alone?”

“No, I do not,” you admitted. “And I know there’s no way for you to believe me now, but I am much more than what I look like on the outside.”

You had never been -- and never would be -- the type of person to believe herself above everyone simply because she was a Princess. But you were also not too humble to admit you had some rather good qualities.

You were fairly intelligent, incredibly compassionate, and you found the greatest amusement in the smallest of things. You never took anyone or anything for granted. If you came across someone in trouble, you would do anything in your power to help them. If you did say so yourself, you were quite sure you would make an excellent Queen one day.

“I would like to say the same about myself,” Changkyun replied. “Though the outside does help tremendously.”

A very amused giggle burst through your lips, and you kicked your feet slightly through the air when you said, “I can tell you have an abundance of humor already.”

“What, just from my one comment?”

“And from the way you rolled your eyes at your parents earlier,” you added with a smirk.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never felt that way before about your parents.”

“Of course, I have,” you chuckled. “I’ve just never had the guts to actually roll my eyes. I’ve only done it on the inside. Or in the privacy of my chambers.”

Changkyun let out a deep sigh, and your brow furrowed with soft worry because of it.

“What?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”

Again, he stopped the swing when you reached him, placed his mouth by your ear, and said, “I can tell I’m going to be a terrible influence on you.”

...But somehow, you knew he meant ‘terrible’ in the best way possible. You weren’t sure how you knew, but you did.

After a forced family meeting on both sides to make sure Changkyun consented to the change in bride, the six of you gathered around the table for dinner.

All throughout the evening, your parents droned on and on about your many good qualities. They told stories from your youth, exalted your kindness and compassion for the people in your kingdom, and they truly laid it on thick about what a good wife you would be.

It was more embarrassing than you could even imagine.

But Changkyun’s parents did the exact same thing.

The two of you spent the entire meal shooting each other mortified looks across the table. 

In fact, you spent every meal your families ate together doing that.

Over the next few weeks, your days were filled with walks in the village, picnics in the courtyard, talks on the swing, and your evenings were filled with shared looks of embarrassment and hidden laughs -- all with Changkyun, of course.

It hadn’t taken you long at all to feel comfortable in his presence; he was probably the least shy person you’d ever met, and if he ever held back what he was thinking, you hadn’t witnessed it yet. But, as you quickly learned, what he was thinking was never shocking or discouraging or disappointing. It was real. His thoughts were so real and relatable -- and some of them incredibly deep they kept you thinking all through the night.

He even made you feel comfortable enough to share some of your thoughts with him -- thoughts you didn’t know you would ever tell anyone and even thoughts you didn’t know you had. Changkyun simply made you see and think about things differently -- in a good way. He actually made you realize you’d been somewhat innocent and naive in your views of the world. He made you realize there was so much more to the world than your castle and your village.

It was rather exciting if not just a bit terrifying.

Only two days after Changkyun’s arrival, your parents had announced your engagement to the kingdom, setting your wedding date three weeks hence.

And now it had been three weeks. Your wedding was tomorrow morning, and by lunchtime... everything would be different.

Even though it was well past sunset, you were still awake, unable to sleep because of the bundle of nerves in your stomach and heart. You’d retrieved one of the letters your sister had sent last week and had been reading it over and over to try and calm yourself.

She and Shownu had traveled so far away that you had never even heard of the village before, but they had gotten married at a small church there and had been living happily together for two weeks.

You knew you’d done the right thing -- your sister was happy, and you were quite certain of your own future happiness, too -- but boy, did you miss her.

You missed her smile and her laugh. You missed how she would braid your hair and tuck small flowers into the strands. You missed how she could never seem to stop arguing with your parents. You missed when she would sneak into your chambers when she couldn’t sleep and the two of you would stay up far too late talking --

Just as a tear slipped from your eye and spilled onto your cheek, there was a soft knock on your door.

Hastily, you stuffed your sister’s letter under your pillow and wiped away the evidence of your sadness.

“Come in,” you murmured, figuring it was your maid coming in to clean the fireplace and ask if you needed anything to help you sleep.

So, when the door opened and Changkyun stuck his head in, your heart leaped up into your chest.

“Can I come in?” he asked a bit sheepishly.

...Was he serious?

He was at your door the night before your wedding asking if he could... come inside? While you were in your nightclothes? While you were in bed?

“Ehm --” you stammered, but Changkyun opened the door wider and slipped inside before you could answer.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he made his way over to your bed. “I just... couldn’t sleep. I thought you would probably be up, too.”

You watched him -- your future husband -- with wide, surprised eyes as he approached your bed... But, thankfully, he simply perched on the edge down by your feet, turning to face you.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling.

“Oh -- I -- I was just -- I’m just surprised --”

“Do you want me to leave? I mean, I figured since we’re getting married tomorrow... what’s the difference between being in the same room tonight and being in the same room tomorrow?”

...Well. The difference was quite large, actually. The difference was a ring and a certificate and tomorrow night Changkyun wouldn’t just be in your room... he would be in your bed. With you. Next to you.

“Are you scared? About tomorrow?”

You let out a breath, sitting up straight and bringing your knees up to your chest. “Not... exactly.”

“Really? Because I am,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “Not that I’m scared to marry you, I’m just...”

“Scared to get married,” you finished, one corner of your lip quirked into a half-smile.

“Precisely.” Changkyun turned more toward you then and said, “But... I think we can be good together. I think we can make each other happy.”

While you agreed with him, you found the words to let him know that had become stuck in your throat. Thoughts of your sister and how it would’ve been for her and how she was now blissfully married to the man she loved -- all those thoughts filled your mind and the tear which had fallen just minutes ago was threatening to fall again.

It must have been entirely obvious that you were on the verge of crying because Changkyun scooted up closer to you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he murmured, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours.

His touch broke your resolve, and you looked up at him as soon as the tears began. “I just --” you sniffled, your voice thick with emotion. “I miss my sister. She’s happier than she’s ever been, and I don’t regret anything -- not even a little bit. But I still miss her.”

Without hesitating, Changkyun leaned in and put his arms around you. He pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing your back gently and reassuringly. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “I can’t imagine.”

Changkyun had never touched you like this. He’d pushed you on the swing numerous times, he’d held your hand as you’d stepped over rocks and branches, and he had even kissed your knuckles -- but he had never hugged you. You had never experienced how it felt to have his arms fully around you, to be enclosed in his embrace and pressed up against his chest.

...It felt wonderful.

You gulped down a lump of anxiety and emotion before answering him. “I’ll -- I’ll be all right, it’s just... I never imagined neither of us would be present at the other’s wedding.”

The warmth of Changkyun’s hold was slowly but surely seeping into you, and you wondered if it would get to a point where you wouldn’t want him to leave.

“If there was a way for me to bring your sister here tomorrow, I would,” he whispered, squeezing you just a little as he spoke.

Your brow furrowed softly at his proclamation. “You... would? You would do that for me?”

To your dismay, Changkyun pulled away from you, resting his hands on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. “Yes, I would. Over the last few weeks... I have come to care for you. I feel more comfortable around you than anyone else, and you are probably... the loveliest person I’ve ever met.”

“Really?” you asked with a watery chuckle. “You can tell that after just three weeks?”

“I could tell that after the first day when you relayed the story of taking your sister’s place,” he smirked. “You will do anything for the people you love... and... I hope, one day... that might include me.”

While you couldn’t know for absolute certain if you would ever love Changkyun one day, you did know that you returned his sentiments. You had come to care for him, as well, and you, too, hoped that in the future you would be included among the people he loved.

Maybe even the person he loved most.

And... being so close to his face at the moment, you also knew there was no way he wouldn’t look stunningly handsome in his wedding clothes tomorrow.

[translightyagami]

Hello!

I love your fanfic “in your shoes”

(It was the first thing I read about your work and since then I have fallen in love with your writing)

For the fic prompt... Could you write a little more of that AU, please.

(Oh it was so fun to return to this AU! L is a professor at the university Light's attending and they've been together for a little while. You should read "in your shoes" first, but its not imperative. anyway! hope you enjoy!)

cross-posted on ao3!

It was spring break, and L sulked in Light’s apartment. He planned to host his boyfriend during the long academic holiday, but Light surprised his family with a last-minute visit back to Japan. L fiddled with his pockets, taking in the Light’s plastic apology while he laid out instructions on cat-sitting Ryuk.

“Look, I’m sorry, but my father’s been getting ill more often, you know, and you’re going to want to mix Ryuk’s wet food with some dry because he likes the texture, and my mom pretty much said he’s going to kill himself into retirement so I need to be there to convince him to slow down, I’m the only one he listens to about work matters, and this is Ryuk’s favorite toy, so use it with him for about, oh, an hour a day? My sister misses me. I have to go back. Here’s the litter you need to use, and the scoop for when you clean it.”

“I made plans,” L said and took the red scoop from Light. He held it in both hands, staring at the handle in the shape of three apples. Even to his own ears, his voice was pathetic. “I made a reservation at our favorite restaurant. I got really weird sex toys for us to try, because there’s all that recovery time.”

Light’s expression softened until his regret tasted genuine, if pitying. He stroked a hand through L’s hair.

“It’s only for the break,” Light said and kissed L on the forehead. “And then I’ll be back. Just switch the reservation, huh?”

While his soreness over the whole business still thumped under the skin, L liked snooping around Light’s place. He brought his grading work over and, after finishing up, wandered the square-ish space. Despite paying a deep-pocketed rent price, Light lived in a small, cramped studio – made all the tinier with the fat black Ryuk tottering around. His bed, a neat twin mattress with blue sheets that screamed department store boys youth section, had beneath it several plastic storage boxes. L flipped through them, pausing every so often to pet Ryuk or shake the cat’s feather toy.

Inside were stacks of birthday cards, letters from family, and, beneath all this communicative detritus, a pair of diaries. Or journals, as Light called them on the first page of each faux leather book. L flicked the pages of the journal dated the year before Light started at his university. Nothing interesting leapt out, save how Light’s kanji was cramped just like his handwriting in English. Some entries were readable only by squinting – although L didn’t care to read more than three or four since they all smelled of a closet Light didn’t occupy much anymore.

He did enjoy the entry about Light’s adoption of Ryuk. Apparently shelter cats with bad attitudes were Light’s favorite pets, and Ryuk marked the most recent addition. As L read the line, “He only likes when I feed him treats. We’re special to each other, because he chose me and I chose him,” Ryuk nipped him on the finger. L blew a raspberry at the awful little man but shook the feather toy to avoid another nip.

The next journal was more interesting, for it covered Light’s more recent goings-on: fitting in at a foreign university; cooking for himself for the first time; and L rubbed stubborn tears away reading about Light breaking down and calling his mom to ask her, please, how to make his favorite dessert. “I miss everything about home,” Light wrote in an entry marked a month before his first class with L. “There’s nothing for me here except school and Ryuk, and I’m tired of it. I can’t have made a mistake coming here, have I?”

And then The Entry: “I met the most interesting person today.” L knew the date – how could he forget the most important beginning he’d had lately? After that entry came others, more and more concerned with ethical boundaries, and whether this person (God, of course Light refused to acknowledge his crush on a professor, as though his journal judged him) felt the same as Light. One memorable paragraph fell on the day before Light first asked L on a date. Using the back of his hand, L tried to ward off more tears but nothing helped. Ryuk, no longer in a nipping mood, stamped himself a bed in L’s lap. His snore scored L’s reading.

“I wonder if it’s possible to know someone the way I know myself. Or is that too romantic? That’s another thing I sort of hate and love about him, how he’s romantic like me. We’re not moony or anything, but sometimes when he lectures I can feel how he feels – how his passion is a broad stroke. He loves concepts, ideas, the way that no one else I’ve ever met does … except for me. And then when I go to office hours and sit on the other side of his desk, all I can think about is how his mouth moves around words, makes them sound like they’re carved in stone. Even when they’re just so stupid! Because god, he says stupid shit sometimes. And I want to kiss him when he does, so he’ll shut up and hold me and tell me in that serious voice what a joy I am to have in class … maybe outside of class too, if I play my cards right.”

On Friday, a day before Light’s flight back, L woke up to his phone ringing. He was in Light’s apartment, snoozing on the twin bed with a Ryuk-shaped stone on his stomach and the last pages of the journal propped on his chest. His tone was mealy as he answered but perked as the sharp music of Light asking how Ryuk was played through the phone.

“Your little man is fine,” L said, stroking the little criminal in question. “Are you well? Is your trip giving you what you wanted?”

“Not really,” Light said. “I didn’t come on the trip to get something I wanted. My family is happy. Are you doing okay? I hope your bruised ego and our new reservation survived the week.”

L nodded before remembering Light couldn’t see him.

“Yes,” he said, laughing. “I’m okay. Actually, I wanted to ask you something, since you’re back home and everything.”

“Oh sure. Go ahead.”

“Are you happy you stayed?” L asked, licking his lower lip. “I mean, are you happy that you stayed at the university? You didn’t make a mistake?”

The pause was long, filled only by pen clicking on Light’s end as he kept quiet. As L geared up to wave away the question, Light sighed until his lung wheezed.

“I don’t make mistakes,” Light said. “Of course, I’m glad I stayed. Although if you read my diary again, I will make you wish I didn’t.”

[rmtndew]

Begin Again ~ Chapter 6

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff) 

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0​​, @gearhead66,  @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @xxxkatxo, @musicartmayheminmyheart​, @lilliannaansalla​

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The next week started out well. Marshall’s closed case meant paperwork - which I knew he wasn’t a fan of - but it gave us the ability to spend more time together. After his court appearance on Monday, he stopped by the shop so I could see him in his suit. He was insanely handsome - he really did clean up nicely - but I preferred him looking like a big cozy bear in his thick sweaters, so I gave him the go ahead to change into something more casual for our date that night. Darcy, being the wonderful friend that she was, let me leave a few hours early so that Walter and I could meet up sooner. We had dinner and picked up everything he’d ordered for Faye’s room. Then we went to his house and he assembled the new furniture while I painted the old. Tuesday he picked me up and we had Chinese takeout before finishing the room. It took all night - I didn’t get home until close to one in the morning - but we both worked to get it done in time. And it was well worth it. I may have been an adult, but even I was a little jealous of how cute it had turned out. Faye’s birthday was the next day, Wednesday, and Marshall picked her up from school, then surprised her with it before taking her home. That evening while I was on the phone with him, she sent me a sweet text thanking me for helping him out and telling me how much she loved it. 

Unfortunately, things started falling apart for me after that. Mom spent Thursday getting ready for her trip with my aunts that weekend, and despite how much I tried to convince myself that she would be okay, my anxiety wasn’t buying it. Since Dad died, I hadn’t spent a single night away from her. And with her cancer still feeling fresh in my mind, knowing that I wouldn’t be there with her if something were to go wrong made my anxiety worse. It came to a head Friday morning when I had a panic attack. I was having coffee when it hit me. The chest pains, the heart palpitations, the tingling in my arms, the numbness in my fingers and toes. I felt dizzy, my vision swimming. I knew what it was, I’d had them for more than half my life, and yet I was always scared it was something more. A heart attack usually. My mind could never comprehend how something like anxiety could cause such an intense physical reaction. But it did and when it was over, I was exhausted. I was thankful that I didn’t have to go to work - Darcy had closed the shop for the day - because the most I managed to do that morning was take a shower and put on sweatpants and an oversized sweater. By that afternoon, I felt torn between being too tired to do anything useful and needing something to distract me from dwelling on Mom going away. She wouldn’t let me help her with anything, so I finally settled on cleaning out the fridge. That’s where I was, trying to identify the contents of a container that had gotten pushed to the back, for who knows how long, when I got a text from Marshall. 

Marshall:  I wanted to see if you had plans for dinner? I know your mother is leaving this evening and didn’t know if you’d cook for yourself. I  can take you out, or cook for you, if you’d like?

I wanted so badly to say yes, but I didn’t have the energy. Cleaning out the fridge was as much as I had been able to force myself to do, and even that was pushing it. There was no way I could manage to get ready for a date. 

Me:  I don’t have plans. Unfortunately I’m not feeling well. Do you take rainchecks on dinner?

I hated turning him down for several reasons. One being that I loved spending time with him, no matter what we did. But another was knowing that he wasn’t always going to have free time to spend with me. That these few weeks we’d had were rare, at least by his admission, and I felt like I was squandering it. 

Marshall:  I do take rainchecks. And I’m sorry that you’re not well. Is there anything I can do for you? 

Me: No. It’ll pass. But thank you for offering. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I can. 

Almost as soon as I sent it, he replied, like he’d anticipated what I was going to say and was waiting, his thumb hovering over the send button. 

Marshall:  You have nothing to make up for, Fi. Just let me know if I  can get you anything. 

Reading the text, I felt like crying. He was wonderful and there was no reason why I shouldn’t have been able to go out with him, except my brain decided to have a meltdown and destroy my whole day. 

Me:  I will. You’re too sweet, Walter. Thank you. 

Marshall:  That’s not possible. 

Me:  For you to be sweet? I highly disagree, mister. 

Marshall:  No. For anyone to be too sweet to you, love. 

My heart fluttered for a moment, touched by how wonderful he truly was. But it was over quickly, replaced by tears. I’d finally found someone that I adored and that treated me better than anyone ever had, but even still, my anxiety fought it and that afternoon, it won. 

A few hours later, June came by to pick up Mom. I carried her suitcase to the car, then made sure she had everything important in her purse. 

“Fiona, I’ve got it, sweetie. I’ve got my medicine, my wallet, and my phone. Anything else I need, we can pull over and get.”

“What about your phone charger?” I asked. 

“In the suitcase.”

“Your car charger?”

At that, she looked a little sheepish. “I did forget that one.”

“I’ll go grab it for you. Where is it?”

“I think it’s on my vanity. If not, don’t worry about it, Bird. June will have her phone, too.”

“I know, but I’d feel better if you had it. I’ll be right back.” 

I ran upstairs and looked at Mom’s vanity. The charger wasn’t sitting on it, so I went through the drawers, searching for it with no luck. I didn’t know where else she would keep it, but I knew that if I asked, she would tell me to forget it and try to leave before I could find it. So I decided to give her mine to take instead. I had a backup one with a shorter cord in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. 

“You’ll have to take mine. I can’t find yours,” I called, starting down the stairs. 

“Well, I found something,” she called back. “There was a surprise on the doorstep.”

“Mom, I swear if you brought the neighbor’s cat in again, I’m telling. It’s not inhumane to have an outdoor cat,” I said. But when I reached the bottom of the staircase, I saw who she’d ‘found’ and couldn’t hold back my smile. It wasn’t a cat, thankfully. It was Marshall. He smiled back at me. 

“Are you still going to tell on me?” Mom asked. 

“I’ll consult with Detective Marshall here and decide,” I said, walking over to her. 

Marshall was standing with one hand behind his back, the other holding a bouquet of wildflowers. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here.”

“Of course,” I said. 

“Well, we have to get on the road, so we’ll leave the two of you to it.” Mom turned and gently pulled my head down for her to kiss my forehead. “I love you, sweetie. I’ll call you when we get there.” 

I handed her my charger and she put it in her purse. “I love you, too. Be careful and have fun, okay?” 

“I will.” She looked up at Walter. “Would you do me a favor and keep an eye on her this weekend? She could cut one of her limbs off and wouldn’t tell me because she wouldn’t want to ‘bother’ me.” 

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

She patted his arm. “Thank you.”

Mom and June gave me hugs before leaving. June told Marshall that it was nice to ‘finally’ meet him. I rolled my eyes but he smiled and said it was nice to meet her, too. I stood in the doorway and watched them leave. Once they were gone, I closed the door and turned back to Walter. 

He rubbed his neck, looking a bit bashful. I didn’t think I could ever get used to him looking that way. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you sending her off.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she was happy to have you here to be a buffer. I think she was half afraid that I was going to cling to her leg like I did when I was a kid and try to keep her from going.” I went to him and brushed a curl back from his forehead. I squinted at him playfully. “Now that I’m thinking about it, that was pretty convenient for her. Did she call you?” I joked. 

He smiled enough for me to see the sharp end of his canines. “No. I was on my way home and wanted to check on you since you said you weren’t feeling well.” He held up the flowers. “And bring these to you.”

“That was sweet. Thank you.”

“Are you worried about your mum leaving?” he asked. I nodded. He put his free hand on my hip, drawing me closer. “I figured that may have been it, instead of you being ill.”

I put my hands on his chest, feeling the soft texture of his cable knit sweater under my palms. “I know she’s a grown woman, and I know she’s a lot healthier now than she was, and I know she’s going to be with family, so I really shouldn’t be worried, but I can’t help it.” I chewed my lip for a moment. “I had a panic attack this morning. I didn’t tell her, because I knew she’d know it was over her leaving and I didn’t want her to feel guilty,” I said. “But that’s why I asked about a raincheck for dinner. It drained me and I didn’t think I’d have the energy to go anywhere. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s understandable to be worried about her. You’ve taken care of her the whole time she was sick,” he said. “I’m sorry it caused you to have a panic attack, though.”

“I’m used to them. I’ve had them half my life.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

I shook my head. “It just drained me. I’ll be better tomorrow.” 

“Would you like me to stay and keep you company?” 

I looked down at my hands. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to. Do you want me to?”

I took a deep breath. “Please,” I whispered.

He kissed the bridge of my nose, then put his forehead to mine. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”

I smiled. “Then you may never leave.”

“I wouldn’t complain.”

I looked up at him again. “Have you eaten? I could make us dinner.”

“Would you let me order take out for us instead?”

“You don’t trust my cooking?” I joked. 

He smiled back. “It’s not that. I promise. But I would feel better if I felt like I was taking care of you, not the other way around.

I bit my lip for a moment, thinking. “Okay.”

“Good girl,” he said, then placed a kiss on my forehead.

A flush instantly pinched at my cheeks, the heat spreading to my ears and neck, just from two simple words. “We should get those flowers in some water,” I said, moving back and taking them from his hand. I didn’t want him to see how flustered I was.

I walked to the kitchen and he followed. I found a vase in one of the cabinets and filled it with water, then I took the flowers from their wrapping and placed them inside. Marshall took the wrapping from me and put it in the trash while I arranged the flowers. Once I had them how I wanted them, I carried them to the table and placed them in the center. Marshall came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my shoulder. I wasn’t a petite woman, but he engulfed me, making me feel dainty for the first time in my life. I closed my eyes and melted into his touch.

“Thank you again for the flowers. They’re beautiful,” I said. 

“You’re welcome.” He kissed my shoulder again, then kissed a trail from there up to my neck. I sunk further into him with each kiss. He finished with a soft, lingering kiss behind my ear. “What would you like to eat?”

“Do we have to eat? I kind of don’t want to move from right here.”

He laughed and I felt it rumble through me. “I assure you, I plan on resuming this as soon as dinner’s taken care of.”

“Promise?”

He nodded. “Yes, darling.”

“Keep calling me stuff like that and I’m going to be too weak in the knees to do anything else.”

He laughed again. “Is that so?”

I turned my head to look at him. He looked amused. “Yes, it is. Don’t act like you don’t know what kind of effect you have on me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a slight smirk.

“Oh really?” I asked. He shook his head. I took his right hand away from my waist and moved it, placing it over my heart, and held it there with my own hand. “Call me darling again.”

He looked confused, but he did it anyway. “My darling, Fiona,” he said. Then I watched his eyes widen as he felt my heart rate pick up. “That’s because of one word?”

“It’s because of you. Because of how you say it. Because of how you make me feel when you say it.” 

He gave me a kiss, soft and gentle, then smiled as he pulled back. My heart was beating faster and I knew he could feel it under his palm. “So it’s not just words,” he whispered, sending shivers through me. “My beautiful -” He kissed behind my ear. “Sweet -” He kissed my neck. “Smart -” My head tilted for him naturally. He kissed the underside of my jaw. “Darling,” he said, then pressed a kiss to my exposed collarbone. 

Never in my life had a man made me feel the way Walter did. Especially right then. He surrounded me, crowded every one of my senses, and made me feel weak and strong at the same time. I could be vulnerable with him, let him know exactly what he did to me, and I wasn’t afraid he’d exploit it. I wasn’t afraid of him at all. He was protection. I knew that he would protect me, protect my heart, and so even though I could feel it beating so fast it almost hurt, I kept his hand pressed against it, wanting him to feel some small part of how he made me feel. 

He let his lips linger on my collarbone for a moment, and then, to my surprise, he blew a raspberry on it. I squealed, my knees buckling at the sudden tickling sensation. He caught me, his arm around my waist tightening to keep me from falling. I burst into a fit of giggles and he laughed, too, moving his hand from my heart to circle around my waist, joining the other one.

“Are you ticklish?” he asked, still laughing. 

“I didn’t think I was, but no one’s ever done that,” I said, my cheeks starting to hurt from how wide my smile was. 

“Hm...this could be an interesting experiment, then.”

“No, sir!” I said, still laughing. 

“Fine.” He kissed the side of my head. “It’s better when it’s a surprise anyway,” he said. He loosened his grip on me, then turned me to face him. He looked very satisfied with himself as he smirked at me. “Do you still want to do this, or will you let me order dinner now?”

I shook my head at him. “You sneaky bear,” I said, my smile never breaking. “Yes, you may order dinner now.”

“What would you like?” 

“I think...a deep-dish pizza, please.”

He smiled. “Then pizza it is, love.” 

Marshall ordered pizza, then he and I cuddled on the couch until it arrived. Then we ate it straight from the box while watching baking shows. After dinner, we got comfortable. He sat on the couch and I sat beside him, stretching my legs out and leaning my back against his chest. He wrapped me up in a blanket and held me. His hand occasionally playing with my hair, running his fingers through it. We didn’t talk very much, but we didn’t have to. Just him being there was enough to make me feel better. Eventually, my anxiety melted away, leaving me relaxed. My eyes were growing heavy when Mom called, the sound startling me. 

“Hey Bird, did I wake you?” she asked. 

“No. I’m watching TV. You’re fine.”

“You didn’t stay up for me, did you?”

“No. I’m watching a show with Walt.”

“Oh, is he still there?”

“He is. You’d be proud of him. He’s looked after me very well tonight.”

“That makes me feel better. You’ll have to tell him I said thank you.”

“I will. How was the drive? Did you guys get there okay?”

“We did. We ran into some snow, but it wasn’t too bad.” There was a pause, then I heard her yawn. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know we made it.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I’m glad you got there safely and I hope you guys have fun this weekend. Try not to get too crazy.”

“No promises, Fi.” 

I laughed. “Alright. Go get some sleep, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetie. Goodnight.” 

We hung up and I put my phone back on the coffee table. 

“She made it to their hotel?” Marshall asked. 

“Yeah. I didn’t realize they’d been gone that long.”

He looked at his watch, then raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t, either. It’s nearly midnight.” He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “I should probably go and let you sleep.”

I didn’t want him to leave, but I knew he must have been tired. He’d worked that day, then spent all evening taking care of me. I couldn’t ask him to stay any longer. 

“Okay,” I said. 

He helped me tidy up the living room, throwing away the trash from dinner and cleaning up the few dishes we’d dirtied. I walked him to the door. He gave me a hug and a kiss and I tried not to linger with either, not wanting him to see how reluctant I was to let him go. But he must have seen it or sensed it because as he was about to leave, he paused and turned back to look at me. 

“You know, if you’re nervous about being here alone, I could stay with you,” he said. “I could sleep down here, on the couch, if you want.”

“I couldn’t ask you to sleep on the couch.”

“You’re not; I’m offering.”

I chewed my lip and looked down at my feet. “I could...I could ask you to sleep somewhere else, though,” I said quietly.

I watched his feet turn as he walked back to me. His hand gently lifted my face to look at him. “Do you want me to stay tonight, love?”

I nodded. “Please.”

He stroked my jaw softly with his fingers. His blue eyes were the softest I’d ever seen them. “All you ever have to do is ask.”

“Will you stay with me, Walter?”

“Yes.” 

We locked up, then he followed me upstairs. I gave him the pair of sweatpants he’d loaned me when I’d painted Faye’s furniture because he was worried I’d ruin my jeans. I’d washed them, intending to return them on our next date. He changed into them while I was getting the pillows from the guest room. I watched him from the corner of my eye as I arranged the bed so we could share it, trying not to be shallow and stare as he pulled off his sweater, his T-shirt going with it. It was difficult. I knew he was muscular, even his sweaters couldn’t hide that, but seeing him for the first time took my breath away. He was so big and broad and manly. I’d never dated anyone that had even remotely come close to looking the same. 

I got into bed and lay on my side. Marshall turned off the light, then joined me. He put his phone on the nightstand, then lay facing me. Even in the dark, he was beautiful. 

“Thank you for this,” I said. 

“You’re welcome, my love.”

“Would you mind holding me? Just until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” 

I rolled onto my other side and he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me to him, his chest pressed against my back. I rested my arm on top of his, my fingers threading down through his. He nosed the back of my neck, then kissed it, before resting his head behind mine. 

“I love how warm you are,” I said, my eyes closing. “You’re like a big, strong blanket.”

“A hairy one at that.”

I laughed. “Yes, but I love that, too. Have you ever seen a shaved bear? They’re terrifying.”

It was his turn to laugh. It shook my whole body as he did. “What?” 

“Have you never seen the picture of the shaved bear?”

“No. But what does that have to do with me, anyway?”

“You’re my bear.” 

“Am I?” he asked. I nodded. “Does that mean I can’t ever shave my beard?”

I hummed sleepily. “I don’t know. I do really like it. I like all of your hair, though. Especially your curls.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I always want to play with them. They’re soft.”

“You’re more than welcome to play with them anytime you want, then.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“And you get very complimentary when you’re tired,” he remarked, humor in his voice. 

“Well, you deserve all the compliments.” 

“Do I now?” 

“Yes.” I yawned. “You’re my favorite person, you know? And you make me feel safe. Always,” I said. “Not that I feel unsafe without you, I just… I don’t know. You make me feel protected anytime I’m around you.” I let out a breath. “Especially right now.”

He tightened his arm around me, pulling me closer. “You are always safe with me, love,” he said softly. 

I melted further into his embrace. I could feel myself starting to drift off to sleep. The weight of his arm around me, the heat of him pressed against my back, it all felt so comforting, I couldn’t stay awake. 

As I fell asleep, the last thought I had was that I was without a doubt falling in love with Walter Marshall. 

A few hours later, I woke with a start. A phone was ringing and my first thought was that it was Mom. I sat up, groping in the dark for my phone. My worry turned to confusion when I realized it wasn’t my phone ringing. A moment later, the ringing stopped.

“Yeah, Marshall,” Walter answered the call, his voice deep and raspy from sleep. There was a pause and he let out a breath. “Okay, yeah, I’ll be there in thirty.” He hung up, putting his phone back on the nightstand, and sat up beside me. He put his hand on my back. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I thought it was Mom. It scared me for a second.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” I took a deep breath, reaching out to touch him, my hand landing on his knee. “You have to go?”

“Yeah. There was a shooting.” He rubbed my back softly. “Will you be able to go back to sleep?”

“I think so,” I said. “Do you want me to make you coffee while you get dressed? I have a thermos I can put it in.”

He shook his head. “No, don’t worry about me. Just go back to sleep. I’ll lock up behind me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He moved his hand from my back up to the back of my head and cradled it as he kissed me before getting out of bed. I watched him as my eyes adjusted to the dark. He went to the chair where he’d put his clothes and swapped his sweatpants for his jeans. His black boxer briefs gave me my first glimpse of his muscular thighs with nothing hiding them, before covering them again. He pulled on his shirt and sweater, then sat long enough to put on his boots. He came back to the bed, putting his phone in his pocket, then came around to my side.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he said, sitting beside me.

I shook my head at him. “Don’t be. It means a lot that you stayed as long as you did.”

He cupped my face in his hand. I leaned into it. He stroked my cheek. “I’ll call you later and check in on you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then my nose, then my lips. “Lay down,” he whispered. “I’ll tuck you in.” I lay back down and he pulled the covers up around me, tucking them around me. He bent and gave me another kiss to my temple. “Goodnight, Fi.”

I had to fight every urge that wanted me to hold on to him and ask him to stay. “Be careful, Walt.”

He smiled at me. “Always, love.”

He left and I’d never felt so alone. The bed was cold and I missed him. I grabbed the pillow he’d been sleeping on and hugged it to me. It smelled like him. With that scent still there, I felt my body relaxing, and soon I fell back to sleep.

[wallwriterstuff]

Am I allowed to place in a request for Mr svelte tracker boi Demetri? I need my greek boi fix. 😅😂 My stimming (due to my slight autism and anxiety) has been kinda bad lately and I was wondering if you could do some headcanons on how he would be with a reader who has that going on? (For example, some of my stimming signs are restless, uncontrollable finger twitches sometimes, and sudden limb movements and facial twitches I can't control 😅) Thanks! Also, sorry if this is too touchy a subject!🙈

You most certainly are allowed and I cannot express how hard I fangirled when I realised it was you in my ask box. I played it very cool but just know I was dying inside from the moment I saw your username come up XD 

TW: Mentions of anxiety and sensory overload. If that’s a little personal to you please be cautious about reading this one!

I’m incapable of writing short things it seems so it’s another long one.

Self-stimulating behaviour, known more commonly as stimming, usually involves repetitive movements and/or sounds. Though it is most often associated with autism (I know when I first saw the word stimming that was where my mind immediately went to) everybody stims in some way, shape or form to relieve stress, tension, anxiety, boredom etc. Some ways are less noticeable than others such as nail biting or finger tapping, while others can be more obvious and disruptive to your social/daily life like licking certain objects or scratching at skin.

I learned all this from doing a bit of reading before taking on this request and if you want to know more then the link to the article I read is right -----> HERE <------ ! It’s informed my ideas for this headcanon request and though I’m open to discussions about the topic to help educate myself and anyone else who wishes to learn more, what I will not tolerate is any sort of hate or discrimination based on the links to developmental disorders and mental illness that stimming has. This blog has and always will be a safe space for anyone and everyone and a little respect for one another will help keep it that way. Be kind folks!

So without further ado, how would Demetri react to you stimming I wonder?

Part 1: Headcanons below the Keep Reading Line Part 2: Teeth (fic) Part 3: Control (fic) 

·         He honestly wouldn’t really notice for a while because, well, humans aren’t exactly designed to be as flawless as vampires

·         Impromptu nosebleeds, migraines, sneezes…they’re just glitches in a faulty system so why is the way your leg just bounced up off of the floor while your sitting any different to those other equally as involuntary things

·         He’s struggling right now to, after all he just met his very human mate and it’s quite overwhelming for him to have to adapt to all these new feelings and situations he finds himself in, but he deals because he can

·         Some days, you just…can’t

·         Getting attacked by a man with some bizarre fascination with your neck is bad enough but being whisked away by strangers is somehow even worse. At least in the first scenario once it’s over it’s over, now you’re just living an anxious person’s nightmare in a new place full of new people

·         Volterra was beautiful, but it wasn’t home. No cosy apartment, no neighbours cat to feed, no monotonous shifts at work…

·         Actually, most of the time you’re left utterly alone to navigate an unfamiliar castle, and the times you aren’t alone is when there’s a man claiming to be your eternal lover in front of you

·         Try to convince me this man doesn’t rip the band aid off and profess his love for you with dramatic flair just TRY

·         Your days are filled with endless boredom where you’re doing nothing at all until someone checks on you, and then fight or flight kicks in because oh HELLO Mr Vampire guard are you here to give me lunch or kill me?

 ·         Demetri had thought that perhaps you were okay with that, since you hadn’t really outwardly reacted beyond the way your cheek twitched up into a smirk once or twice as he spoke. Hell, you’d even winked at him…right?

·         You did that a lot so he really genuinely thought that maybe you were just trying to flirt with him, build a relationship with him. Your constant little winks and the way your fingers twitched when he was nearby, like you so desperately wanted to reach out to him…

·         It took a few weeks before he realised how wrong he was

·         You’d reached for a sip of water and your arm had just whipped outward from your body

          + You’d absolutely drenched him with your entire glass of water and could only stare in abject horror wondering what the supposed vampire would do next, since you’d interrupted him rather smugly detailing his plans for your first date

·         Silence

·         There was just silence

·         It only made your anxiety worse and the muscles in your face just spasmed without your permission and - god did you just smirk at him again, oh no        

         + “I’m glad one of us finds this amusing. If you did not like the idea there were other ways to tell me so.”

 ·         You almost want to cry from sheer embarrassment at this point because the date really had sounded like it could be fun and now you’d just straight up thrown water in his face like he’d insulted you in the worst way imaginable

·         So you come clean and tell him about your stimming

·         He’s really worried at first because autism? Anxiety he’s heard of but autism sounds very dangerous, are you dying? You’re probably dying. He’s going to lose his mate –

·         Another involuntary finger twitch from you forces him to calm down because your anxious enough without his worrying on top, so he kind of brushes it off and makes no big deal out of it

·         Squeezes your hand and kisses your forehead to try and reassure you all is forgiven, even if he does have to go change a very expensive looking designer shirt and god you’re so sorry

·         Of course, that kind of makes it worse for you because anxiety brain is activated and your 99.9999% sure he’s actually furious with you still and has only pretended to forget it while he’s plotting his revenge

·         You see him late at night when you struggle to fall and stay asleep, reading in the low lamplight at his desk across the room, his laptop propped open and a notebook before him but you’re too scared still to ask what it is he’s reading so intently (probably good suggestions on places to bury your body welp)

·         It’s a complete surprise to you therefore when he does take you out on that date he promised you not two weeks later

 ·         He’s chosen a nice overcast day so he’s in the least conspicuous clothing he owns

            + Demetri’s least conspicuous clothes still consist of the most chic and expensive brands you know of and he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the quaint little market stalls he’s brought you to see

·         Despite the gloomy weather the people of Volterra are out in full force though, swarming the market stalls and chattering and laughing as flashes of gold and silver from jewelry hit your eyes, bright coloured fabrics following

·         It’s all just too much

·         There’s people everywhere and so much noise, so many colours and lights and people brushing past you…

·         Your fingers clench tight around his, his hand immersed in a glove to keep his freezing skin from chilling you too much

·         He squeezes back lightly, eyes shifting to glance down at you with the kindest smile on his lips

         + “Keep squeezing my hand whilst we find somewhere quieter to stand.”

·         Your fingers seemed to take turns pressing into his rock solid skin, an odd sort of comfort coming from the fact you know you can press down hard and he won’t so much as register the sensation, and Demetri squeezes back, just firm enough he knows you can feel the pressure of his palm on yours

·         He takes you to a quiet little side road where the noise is much more faded and there is so much free space around you you feel like you can finally breathe again

·         He still hasn’t stopped squeezing your hand, taking turns with you as you take some steady breaths and try to focus your senses a bit, one thing you can feel, two things you can see, three you can smell...

 ·         “I hope you can forgive me, I did not expect the market to be so busy today with the weather like this.”

·         His apology takes you completely by surprise because how would he even know you struggled with crowds? You barely know each other?

·         Seeing your surprise Demetri rather sheepishly admits as to what exactly he’s been reading all those nights you’ve seen him at his desk, and you’re a little overwhelmed to realise he’s been reading about you

·         Medical journals, mummyblogs, charity websites and more, if it had any information about autism and stimming he’s browsed through it and taken copious amounts of notes, observing you religiously to see what might be relevant to you and how he can help ·         +  “I read somewhere you self-stimulate to calm yourself when you are anxious or your senses feel overwhelmed, is that what happened?”                                    “Well, yes, actually, I…I…”

            “And did it help? Taking you away from the source of stress and letting you squeeze my hand like that?”

·         It had actually, you felt much calmer and Demetri’s obvious acceptance and willingness to help you manage your stimming and anxiety today were one of the first little moments you fell in love with him, looking back on it 

·         He didn’t stop there either. Together you sat down and made a list of all the things that you found most often triggered your stimming, and all of the things that brought you joy so he could figure out things to avoid and things you might like for your future dates

·         Within hours of arriving home you’d gotten a whole new daily routine set up so you weren’t left to languish and wonder what was going to happen next

·         Three days later an express shipment of your favourite smelling scented candles arrived alongside a Bluetooth speaker, supplies Demetri insisted were necessary for nice calming baths on the days your anxiety was playing up

·         He started doing mindfulness practices with you in the evenings

·         He never touched the volume controls for his laptop, speaker or TV, leaving it to you to control the volume so you could set it to a level you were comfortable with, and he religiously policed the noise on his floor to           + “Where are you going? The movie just started…”                                                    “To tell Felix to turn his music down.”               “You’re vampiring again Metri, I can’t even hear that.”

·         When he signed you up for Yoga and meditation classes at a centre in town you drew the line and told him he was going overboard, but bless him he had tried

·         Overall he’s a solid 15/10 for effort, even if some ideas are still experimental - you’re enjoying the deep pressure massages a lot though – and he sometimes goes a bit mother-hen trying to get you out of situations he thinks you’ll struggle with, when actually you’re coping just fine today

·         You love him dearly for it