#seller messaged me at almost the last minute to say that he had been in jail and had just now got his stuff back from his girlfriend

[isfjmel-phleg]

Next up on This Day Is Weird And It Isn't Even Nine O'Clock yet: I ordered a book from Ebay back in November and got a refund because of complicated issues with the seller never actually sending it. This morning I get an email saying that the book is out for delivery and will arrive today. The tracking indicates that it was sent earlier this week, from a completely different state than the one in which the label was created back in November.

I got my money back for this item. The seller is no longer registered on Ebay, so I can't contact them. We'll see when the package actually arrives--will it actually contain the book? will there be an explanatory note or something? But yeah, this is going to be interesting to navigate.

[more-than-fluff]

Comfort Ft Taehyung

FriendTaehyung x Y/N

Summary - You lose your job, drown your sorrows and only one number you call can save you.

"I'm sorry Y/N but there was nothing else I could do."

An envelope hung in your hands containing a paycheck, your last paycheck. You had always been the top seller but one month your numbers slip and they suddenly can't afford to keep you.

"I promise I can get it back, please give me another chance, I love this job so much. Don't take it away from me, please."

You fought back tears. Crying in front of your boss is a big no in your book.

"Again, I'm sorry Y/N we've given you multiple chances, but you just haven't pulled it back like you used to. We can't afford to keep you if you keep losing us money. I'm sorry, but today was your last day."

You looked down in defeat. The one job you enjoyed had just blown up in your face. You exited the building and stood still. What do you do now? Call your mum? No, you can't deal with another dose of overbearing sympathy. She means well but you're not ready for that tonight.

A drink would be nice.

You start walking and think of the strongest drink you could think of. You get to your favourite place to drink, aesthetic and not too expensive. Normally a place for you and all your girlfriends to hang out but tonight you needed to do this by yourself. No one to tell you to stop. Perfect.

You order your first drink and that's when you pull out your phone and see a single message pop up from Tae. Your closest friend, usually the first person you would've told your news to but you couldn't even face him right now. This feels worse than a break up. And the message didn't help.

"How did work go?? Got those sales in?"

You put your phone down and accept the drink placed in front of you. You hold back from downing it, but the taste of alcohol welcomes you like an old friend.

By the time you remember to reply to Tae's message, you may have been a little tipsy. But that's probably for the best. Otherwise, it would just be tears and blubbering from your part.

"Heyyyy so I got fired hehehaha. My gwod isn't god enough apperntky."

You hit send and ordered one more drink but got swiftly interrupted by your phone ringing. Tae's name lit up the screen.

"Heyy best friend." You answered, trying hard not to slur your words.

"Where are you, Y/N? You're drunk and alone. I'm picking you up."

"Alright, mister grumpy. Why can't I be by myself? In fact, I've made good friends with the bartender, and I'm sure he'll keep me company."

You hear a sigh come through the phone.

"Y/N, you know I can't leave you there. You're upset and drunk. Both are not good. Where are you?"

You slump onto the bar before admitting defeat.

"My favourite place, the one we always take photos in. Can I have one more drink before you come? It's happy hour."

Silence for a second.

"Really, Y/N? No, you can't. By the sound of it you won't be able to stand without help. Plus, I'm almost there. You're lucky I'm a fast walker."

"Party pooper."

"That's exactly what I am. Give me five minutes and I'll be there."

You put the phone down as in this moment you prioritised the drink you haven't finished and spent too much money on it to waste. Especially as you are now unemployed.

You felt your eyelids get heavier as you waited. You'll just close them for a second, he won't be long. Some quiet for a second, this is nice.

"Come on Y/N."

You open one eye, that deep voice is instantly recognisable. Turning around you see your bestie.

"Taeee."

You say, really trying to act sober. It's not working. Holding your coat, he helps you up from your chair. Only now you realise how not sober you are, the world spins and the floor is suddenly very wobbly.

"Careful Y/N, I got you."

Tae holds you up, his arms wrapping around d your waist to keep you up.

"Come on, let's go home."

He guides you out the bar, but the wave of cold air hits you like a tonne of bricks, and your balance goes once again. Almost falling over you really try to keep on your feet but they're just not working anymore. Tae kneels down in front of you and pats his shoulder.

"Junp on Y/N, otherwise we're never getting home."

You didn't even bother protesting and climbed into his back. He stood with ease and started walking. But this isn't the direction of your place.

"I live in the other direction." You slur.

Tae chuckles softly.

"Do you really think I'm letting you go home on your own tonight? We're going to mine. I'm sleeping on the sofa tonight."

You rest your head on his shoulder, wrap your arms around him tight.

"What did I do to deserve you Tae?"

You turns his head to look at you.

"Not enough, fortunately you just have the bestest friend in the world who doesn't want to see their girl in this state."

You smile to yourself, but it slowly fades.

"I haven't got a job anymore."

You feel his shoulders drop.

"I know, they don't deserve you Y/N. You don't deserve to be treated like that."

Those tears appear at your eyes again. You Bury your head into his shoulder.

"What am I gonna do? All I did was get drunk. That's not good Tae."

He sighs again.

"Well, we'll just focus on tonight, and tonight we are going home. You are going straight to bed to sleep, and you will wake with a lovely hangover."

You couldn't help but laugh as he finished his sentence. The rest of the walk, you both stayed quiet. It wasn't long before you got to his apartment. He walks you straight through to his bedroom. His scent fills you. The comfort it brings you is intense.

He lays you on his bed. You are really fighting to stay awake at this point, but help as he takes your shoes off and dresses you into something more comfortable. He grabs one of his large shirts, your favourite. Even as best friends, you 'borrow'his clothes.

Laying in bed, he sits beside you with a glass of water in his hand and puts it down on the bedside table along with some painkillers ready for the morning.

Your eyes are closed, and he assumes you're sleeping. You feel the weight shifts as he stands to go, but you grab his wrist.

"Stay, please." You manage to say.

"I'll only be in the room next door." He says quietly, kneeling beside you.

You open your eyes to look at him.

"I don't want to be alone Tae, please. Lay next to me."

He looks right through you, his eyes softening. He stands and walks around the bed. It drops beside you, and you feel his presence grow stronger. He lays on his back, you turn to face him and place your hand on his chest.

"Hold me Tae, please."

You feel him stiffen slightly.

"Y/N, you're drunk. Please sleep."

You look up at him.

"No Tae, I need this. I need you. Hold me."

"Y/N"

"Tae, your comfort is all I need right now. I need your arms around me."

You turn away from him in hopes that he will turn to you. There's a moment of still, but you then feel him move closer to you. An arm moving around your waist, his hand resting in your stomach. You hold him close. This is the best you've felt all day. But too drunk to feel as conflicted as Tae feels in this situation.

"Goodnight Y/N"

You swore you felt a kiss brush your shoulder, but you were dreaming before you could give it a second thought.

God, your head hurts.

This was all you could think of when you woke. Last night was a blur. You lost your job, ouch. You went to the bar and got wasted, and Tae came to get you. Before you could of what happened next you felt a weight around your waist. Taes arm was still around you, he was still asleep. Or at least you thought he was.

"Good morning sleepy head."

You turn instantly to face him.

"Tae I'm so sorry I was so drunk, I can barely remember getting back here."

He smirked and looked you right in the eyes.

"You were hurting Y/N, and to be honest, it hurt me seeing you like that, and feeling you soften in my hold made me feel better."

You felt your cheeks blush. You didn't think you'd feel anything for your lifetime friend, but now you can't help but feel something a bit more.

"Tae I don't know what I'd do without you."

A mischievous look came across his face.

"You'd probably be in a ditch or kidnapped by a random man who saw your beauty through the many drinks you had."

You hit his shoulder before sitting up, his laughter in the background couldn't stop you from smiling and eventually joining in. The pain in your head comes back though.

"Look to your left." You hear Tae stay through a chuckle.

You look and see the water and painkillers he set out last night.

"Tae, I love you." You say as your reach over and take them.

You lay and face him again. He brushes a hair out from your face and tucks it behind your ear.

"If only you actually meant it." He says.

You look at him confused at first, but then your eyes widen.

"Tae wha-"

Before you had a chance to reply, his lips collided with yours. He's kissing you. Your best friend is kissing you. But it feels so right. You kiss back, and you can feel him smile. He holds you close as the kiss gets deeper. You both intertwine with each other. You don't want this moment to end, but he pulls away.

All you can do is look at him, his eyes taking you all in. He looks at your lips and kisses you one more time.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

You look at him in awe.

"I had no idea you wanted to do that!"

He chuckles.

"I know, why do you think I haven't done anything. But seeing you last night, hurt and in need of someone. I hated it. And when I held you, it just felt right. I want more Y/N."

He looks at you, lustfully. Your eyes widen as you instantly read his mind. A dirty mind at that. You feel for the pillow beside you and aim it directly at his face. He yelps in surprise.

"Now, now mister, we've got to go through so many things. I think I only had a crush, but you were way deeper."

He puts the pillow down.

"So you were crushing on me."

You climbed out of bed, embarrassment filling you.

"I'm taking a shower, I need a moment to process this whole thing."

He laughs and sits up.

"Go ahead, Princess, you can prepare yourself for a day of job searching. Don't think you got out of that."

You turn and head toward the bathroom, a smile blooming. Something you never thought you could achieve after yesterday. But Tae is the person who could change that for more than one reason.

[gryffindors-weasley]

Finding A Light // Part Two

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: A simple afternoon in Hogsmeade leads to the start of a tradition.

Warnings: fluff, mild angst

Part one

Ron found himself struggling to keep his focus on his portion of teaching throughout the week, and it was beginning to become apparent that his mind was elsewhere.

“Mr. Weasley?” A student had asked for what would be the third time now, and she had started to wave her hand in front of his face.

Startled, he looked up from the parchment he scribbled on with his quill that had long since run out of ink. He offered a smile to the confused girl, cheeks burning as Lupin laughed next to him. He sat up a little straighter, clearing his throat. “My apologies, Alice. Can I—can I help you with something?”

She looks at the blushing redhead quizzically before offering a polite smile. “Will there be extra credit available?”

The question made him smile, the eager young student always looking for ways to better her grade even though it doesn’t seem like it could get any higher than a perfect score. Such a quality had reminded him very much of Hermione.

“I suppose I’ll have to think of something,” he says, though there couldn’t possibly be anything new to think of without spoiling future lessons.

She accepts his answer with a nod, though her shoulders do slump in a bit of disappointment as she walks back to her seat. Lupin is still grinning knowingly at him when he looks over, a sigh leaving his lips.

“You wouldn’t happen to be so distracted over this girl you’ve met, would you?” He asks, and though Ron hasn’t said anything yet, the pale crimson that colors his cheeks almost immediately in response is enough to know he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Who told you that?” Ron asks, plucking at the quill in his hand as he raises his brow. He still tries to play it off even though he knows his cover has been blown.

“I do have a keen sense of hearing, you know,” he laughs, “I heard you at dinner last week. You’re not very discreet with your emotions, Weasley.”

He nods down at his hands, sighing as he bites back his growing smile. “I’m convinced you and McGonagall love to torment me.”

He laughed again, nodding at Ron’s words. “It’s only our job. And it’s one you make very easy for us.”

“It’s absolutely not,” Ron says, trying to remain stoic but he couldn’t find it in him to stifle his own laughter. “I swear you two are making up for my family’s lack of teasing.”

—

Ron found himself wandering the familiar stone pathway to the very shop he’d spent the better part of a week thinking about, though the whole time he’d wondered if this was ridiculous. Had you really hoped to see him again? Or was he blowing it out of proportion by mistaking a friendly gesture for that of an invitation to return. He wasn’t really sure of himself the more he ran that humiliating scenario through his head.

His feet seemed to have given him no choice in the matter as he continued to navigate the familiar village, brushing by clusters of students who argued about where to go next. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he thought. If you didn’t recognize him then he could just leave and put it all behind him. But if you did, he could just say he was buying chocolates to send home, if only to not make it completely obvious that the reasons for his visit entirely were to see you.

When the dark wood trim and pink sign came into view he wasn’t sure if his arrival came too soon or not soon enough as he shook out his hands. He felt ridiculous with the way his heart beat out of his chest, or the nerves swirling around in his stomach. First impressions had already been made, no matter how foolish and flustered, so there was no reason to be so nervous. But his heart and his brain were not quite on the same page.

The sweet air of the small shop hit him in a wave the moment he opened the door, a handful of third years rushing past him which inevitably caused him to stumble back a step. The excitement seems to have not worn off just yet. His eyes immediately went to the front counter where you’d said your goodbyes the week before, but he was rather disappointed when it wasn’t you who was there. He didn’t let it deter him, though, instead stepping further into the shop to have a look at the candies.

Despite such a small stretch of time having gone by since he was last there, it seemed as though their inventory was completely different. They still had their best sellers on brilliant and eye catching displays, still had large glass jars filled to the brim with colorful candy, but there were far more new things than he had remembered there being. Even with that being said, he was still more focused on the fact that he hadn’t seen you yet and it’d been a whole ten minutes of wandering around aimlessly, surely looking a bit out of place.

Three aisles in and he still hadn’t seen you. He was fighting the urge to ask where you were, feeling as though that’d be a ridiculous thing to do. Because what was he to say if asked for a reason? Surely he couldn’t give them the real one, that would be utterly humiliating. He was beginning to think he misread your words as he weaved between students, regret forming in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he’d have better luck another time, though he didn’t like the idea of waiting for when that would be.

Upon passing the counter again, his brain scrambled for a reason not to, fighting between his own curiosity and the side of him telling himself not to do it and just leave. But he’s quickly made up his mind.

“Excuse me,” he says, clearing his throat when his words came out rather timidly. He takes a step closer when he captures the cashiers attention. “Would you happen to know where Y/n is?”

Any trace of hopefulness had left when he heard the mans response. “I’m afraid not, her shift ended sometime within the last hour. Would you like me to leave her a message?”

Ron was quick to shake his head, masking the clear disappointment he felt with a smile. “No…no that’s okay. Thank you.”

He left the shop empty handed and stuffed them in his pockets, releasing the sigh he’d been holding. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, really, he’d only met you once. On a busy day at that. But it was something about the way your brief interaction had stopped time for lack of better wording. He knew it was rather silly to feel that way, but it’s what made him come back.

As his mother had always said, if it was meant to happen it would have. With that in mind he tried to brush it off and focus on other matters, like the stack of assignments that needed grading once he returned. It wasn’t something he looked forward to, trying to stall and walk as leisurely as he could through the busy village.

He couldn’t imagine reading dozens of those things being any more fun than it was to write them, and if he gave it any more thought he would completely ruin his mood. He certainly wasn’t as happy as the students around him though he knows he’s probably being a bit dramatic. But this very place wasn’t feeling quite so magical, for lack of a better, less ironic word. Everything seemed to bother him in that moment; the way the wind blew his hair in his eyes, the fact that he kept tripping on the uneven stone streets, the way that—

“Ron?”

He looked up from his gaze at his feet, turning in the direction the voice had come from. His heart skipped a beat upon seeing it belonged to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when you joined him and he quickly forgot those things annoying him.

“Hey,” he nearly beams, and suddenly the thought of his mother’s wise words didn’t make him feel quite so bad anymore.

“I’m sorry to have left you hanging, I finished my shift half an hour ago and decided to stick around here in case maybe you did turn up,” you shrug, nonchalant in your explanation as you walk up to him.

His smile widened as he raised a curious brow at you, his nerves beginning to disappear and be replaced with some confidence. “So you waited for me?”

You flushed a soft pink at his words, looking up at him with a laugh. “Perhaps. Only because you decided to come back.”

It was his turn to blush a shade of crimson at your witty remark, smiling down at his feet as you accentuated your teasing with a nudge of your elbow to his arm. It was true, and though he’d never admit it aloud, it seems as though he didn’t have to.

“Would you like to join me for tea? I always stop by Madam Puddifoot’s after my weekend shifts. She’s quite fond of me so I bet I can get you a free pastry if you’d like.” Your words were followed by the warmest of smiles, and he found himself unable to resist such an offer.

“Yeah…yeah that’d be nice,” he says with a soft laugh, a bit stunned and more so when you grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the shop.

As a testament to your words, you were greeted warmly by the older woman who recited what he assumed was your order. When she turned to him he was at a loss for words, cheeks reddening once more before you asked for another of what you’d gotten.

“Thanks,” he smiles, taking a seat across from you at a nearby table. “I’ve never been here before, my friend told me it was a bit…sappy.”

“Oh it very much is, but she can make a very good cup of tea.”

He nods with a laugh, any worry that he may have said something too bold about this place you seemed to love now dissipating.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself immersed in conversation, finding it rather easy to talk to him about anything and everything. Any pause in conversation had been very brief and quickly filled with something else, a dull moment never finding its way between the two of you. Tea cups had long since been empty and several students had filtered in and out of the shop while the two of you remained at the same table, blissfully unaware of the fact that you were quickly becoming the only two residing in the place. It didn’t seem to matter all that much, nor did that stack of essays collecting dust on his desk. Those could wait another day.

4 Months Later

Spending every Saturday afternoon at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop was quickly adopted as a tradition between the two of you should your schedules allow it. Over that expanse of time you learned about Ron’s wonderfully large family, and unfortunately the loss of a beloved member of it. You’ve learned he has an affinity for quidditch, well, maybe more than an affinity because he spent a very lengthy amount of time talking about it until he shut himself up. And perhaps your favorite part was experiencing firsthand his ever growing hatred for spiders. It was a memory you never let him forget, the way his voice adopted a higher pitch as he put a good ten feet between himself and the small spider until you had taken care of the problem. You’d made a promise to yourself to never let him live it down.

But in spite of the humor, you found yourself thinking that your time spent with him was quite possibly the most fun you’ve ever had. Not that Ron Weasley had been one to walk on the wild side, but everything that seemed mundane before became much more interesting when he was involved.

Over the course of that time, Ron had learned your hobbies and just as easily the things you don’t like. He learned you can fill up your cup of tea as if it’d never been drank with just a simple motion of your hand which is something you inevitably taught him to do. It lead to him overflowing his mug and spilling his tea on his lap, something you also aim to never let him forget. And he doesn’t know how, but you can change the color of just about anything you please, though you tried it on his hair and it hadn’t quite worked out so well. He felt like Tonks as he stood in the middle of your apartment with purple hair as you laughed hysterically.

However, to get sentimental, he quickly found you to be the one thing to bring out a smile when he finds himself falling back to the memories of his losses. It didn’t take much effort on your end, your presence would always suffice. And above all the countless things he’s learned about you, perhaps this next one was the most prominent. Ron Weasley accepted the fact that he was falling in love with his best friend. It wasn’t unexpected, he felt as though maybe he’d always had some form of feelings since day one. But he found it much more intense than those days, though he’d never admit it, not for a long while.

Currently, you found yourselves tucked away in the cozy little building as the rain poured outside, decorated floor to ceiling in Valentine’s Day related things. Even though it was just about a month before the actual day, there was no stopping Madam Puddifoot from indulging in her favorite holiday. Walls were decorated in enchanted red Cupid’s that shot glitter and confetti from their arrows, frilly heart covered tablecloths and lacy napkins, and even pink and red frosted pastries. Ron was beginning to understand why Harry hadn’t liked this place so much.

But it was weekly tradition, and nothing could deter him from coming here with you, not even the heart shaped cookies or the pink confetti stuck annoyingly in his hair.

“What can I get you today?” Madam asked, her notepad in hand though she really hadn’t used it very much. Not for the two of you at least.

“Peppermint tea with two sugars,” Ron says without hesitation. When he’s met with silence he lifts his head from the dessert menu, finding two sets of eyes on him.

It wasn’t until then that he realized he blurted your order, having known it like the back of his hand by this point. It wasn’t until then that he realized her question was directed at you first. His cheeks redden to what felt like the same shade as the table cloth, and he found himself wishing he could rewind and not have done that very embarrassing thing.

“Sorry,” He says, laughing awkwardly as he gulps. Though he’s only met with your sweet smile and a soft laugh from Madam who shook her head fondly at the two of you.

“And what can I get you, Mr. Weasley?”

“I’ll have a Yorkshire tea with extra sugar, please,” He says, much more timid, “and can I have a slice of cake if you’ve got any left?”

“Of course, my dear,” she smiles warmly. There would always be a slice waiting for him because she always made extra in preparation for the ginger boy’s weekly visit.

“Are you blushing?” You jest, chin in your hand as you squint at him from across the wobbly table when she rushes off.

“It’s just, you know…cold outside,” he defends, doing a terrible job of being convincing.

“We’ve been in here for nearly half an hour, Ronald. I’d hate to say it, but I know you’re lying,” you laugh and he looks to his side with a scoff, biting the inside of his cheek as if to will away any more color attempting to flood his cheeks just at the mere mention of it.

“You’re a pain sometimes, you know that?” He says though he smiles rather fondly at you.

“It happens to be my specialty,” you say, eyes skimming over the various holiday themed drink names on the lavishly printed menu. He steals another glance through his light ginger lashes, not missing the way a soft smile had been gracing your lips at the banter.

He shakes his head, laughing quietly to himself as he picks at his napkin. Was it really that evident how much of a mess you made him? He really hoped not.

Not much was said after that, yet the silence was comfortable. He watched as the rain poured outside, thick droplets trickling down the window panes and puddles forming in the uneven walkway. As much as he didn’t enjoy this kind of weather, it really had added to the ambience of this place. It made it all the more welcoming.

“I think we’ve got to apparate home if it doesn’t slow down out there,” he suggests, turning to you.

A frown immediately worked its way on your face at the thought. You hated apparating and he knew that, you could never quite get used to it’s side effects.

“That might just be your worst idea, Ron,” you say, huffing out at the thought. He laughs though, bringing a smile to your face.

The moment is quickly interrupted when two teas are brought to the table and given to their rightful owners, Ron’s highly anticipated cake set along with his. Triple chocolate cake.

“Will I be using the couples discount for you two?” The jovial woman asks with a smile, tucking her pink pencil behind her ear as she settles her hands on her hips.

“Oh! It’s not a date, well, not like that,” Ron says, cheeks burning as he laughed softly, clearly flustered the more he spoke, “we’re just friends.”

Madam Puddifoot apologizes for her blunder, though she still gives you both the discount regardless because she’s seen the way he looks at you. Over the many weeks she’s served the seemingly inseparable pair, she knew friends don’t look at friends quite the way you two do. It was almost fairytale-like. But neither of you seemed to be privy to the others lingering gazes and she wasn’t one to pry, not too much anyway.

Once she left you turned to him with slightly narrowed eyes and a bit of a frown you tried to conceal, finding yourself feeling the smallest bit of hurt, or something, simmering in your stomach. You didn’t know why it had struck a nerve and you didn’t like it.

“What?” He asks softly.

“I don’t think you could have said that any faster, Ron,” you say, stirring your spoon around in your tea a bit too vigorously, the hot liquid spilling over the meticulously painted edge of the cup and onto the small matching saucer it had been resting on.

He furrows his brows, confused at your change in attitude momentarily before a soft smile began to pull at the corner of his mouth. “You seem a bit upset about that, Y/n.”

He tilts his head in amused curiosity, watching as you rolled your eyes before he took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t believe I seem like anything.”

Your tone was playful as you spoke the words very matter-of-factly, though he didn’t miss the bite lacing around them. He only nods as he laughs quietly down at his own tea, not in mocking but in slight amusement.

Your soft smile shortly returned though Ron wondered if your sudden edge, no matter how subtle, was simply nothing or if it was indicative of something more. Perhaps it really did bother you, more than you let on. But he knows that if he lets his mind go down the road of those possibilities, he will only either get his hopes up or hurt his own feelings with scenarios that haven’t even happened. So, for the time being, he pushes it to the back of his mind and hoped it wouldn’t resurface.

“Have you uh, have you checked if that book store in town is open today? You said you wanted to go,” he says, trying desperately to find his way back to comfortable conversation.

“They’re closed,” you say, and he almost winced at the change in your tone whether you had meant to or not. No smile of yours could’ve hid that. He ignored the fact that you had mentioned earlier that they indeed were open, he knew if he paid it any more mind then he’d ruin his own day with assumptions.

He just nods, internally scolding himself as he regrets what he said moments ago.

Gaps in conversation weren’t easily filled after that, and he found he was the one starting the most of them. They really couldn’t be considered conversations at that point, more so observations and statements that you responded to before he moved on to the next one. You hadn’t particularly been ignoring him, you never would, but he knew your mood had soured even if you wouldn’t admit it.

You still teased him about the chocolate icing on the corners of his mouth because you’d never pass that opportunity up, or the way he dropped some in his lap because he’d been too focused staring, but you hadn’t stolen a bite like you usually had and you politely turned down his offer of some.

Your stay at the shop wasn’t nearly as extensive as it usually was either, your tea barely finished but you were rather joyous as you bid a goodbye to Madam Puddifoot. Of course you did still put up a fuss about apparating as you hooked your arm with Ron’s, and you did still hug him goodbye at your doorstep. It just wasn’t as tight as it usually was.

He wanted to bring it up, and he wanted to tell you he hadn’t meant it because the fact that you weren’t being your usual self was driving him crazy. But if he brought it up he’d have to tell you why exactly he hadn’t meant what he said, and he wasn’t ready for that conversation. He feels he might never be. So he decides against it as he stands just outside your door.

“See you next week?” He asks meekly when you pull away from him, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He was hoping you wouldn’t decide to ditch him after that.

You pretended to ponder the question for a moment, just to get a rise out of him. Maybe you took a few extra seconds because you were still bothered. You still couldn’t pinpoint why it had gotten under your skin so much. “I’ll see you next week, Weasley.”

Despite the bit of relief he had felt from that moment you still weren’t so cheery with him, and he tried to convince himself that maybe you’d just had a headache, you get like that sometimes when you do. Or maybe you just had a bad day to begin with and didn’t feel like hiding it anymore. He was grasping at straws to figure out a proper explanation for it but everything came circling back to his words.

He took your answer with a nod before apparating back to Hogwarts, unsure of how to perceive your tone this time. It left him to stew in his own regret that night and days to come until he saw you again.

—

Tags: @writeroutoftime

[xan-hast]

“Together to Bloom”- July 3rd 2021

“Wake up; you’re going to be late!” I heard my older sister yell from outside my room. I can’t get up right now; it’s like six o’clock or something. I turned to grab my phone from the counter as I turned it on. Its harsh light beamed my delicate eyes. I blinked, trying to recover from the pain in my eyes. Alas, I looked at the time. It was seven-thirty! I hopped out of bed with no time to waste as the final day of school was here! I couldn’t be late for the last day of school before summer break! I’d worked so hard all year long, not just to waste it all for being late! I rushed, grabbing whatever I could get from inside my closet. I then went inside the bathroom to brush my teeth and grabbed my comb to fix my hair later in class. I put my phone in my pants right pocket, grabbed my backpack for school, and a granola bar before running through the front house door.

As I locked the front door, I started running to school. First period starts at eight-ten, so I should have about thirty minutes to make it to class since I probably only took ten minutes getting ready. This should be perfect because it takes less than half an hour to get to school. But it’s all estimates right now; I can’t check my phone right now because it’ll just slow down my time. I’ll just wait until I have to cross the street to check my phone.

So far, they’ve all been red lights! I’ve been lucky so far, but that would also mean the drivers aren’t sharing this same luck. I only need to cross the street one more time, and I’ll be at school. I’m praying for a green light because I’ve gotten tons of notifications coming from my phone. I know that I’m not late, but there must be some big news! Maybe Eric’s mom finally let him get the gaming PC he wanted. Or maybe River finally wants to talk about what happened this week. Or Jake (my online friend) finally got the new game we planned to play during the summer! Or maybe Brittany jus-. You know what, I could just keep guessing the endless possibilities. But from the void of possibilities, I really hope it’s River.

As I was approaching Breeze High, I could see students around the entrance of the school building. With the usual people staying outside until classes started, the students already inside, some buses being late, and parents dropping off kids. But I would be a mix of two; I would stay inside sometimes or outside depending on what friend I saw first. This time there wasn’t anyone outside waiting for me. So I would go inside, but I’d rather check who was spamming me with text messages. As I turned on my phone, I saw the top message from Eric saying, “Zachary come to the cafeteria know!” I scrolled through some other text messages, but the top fifteen were from Eric. They’re all the same text with the exact grammar mistake of know instead of now; he must’ve just copied and pasted the text. But I wonder what he would want so urgently. After that was one text message from Brittany saying, “If you can come to the Student Council class really quickly, I have some things to discuss.” I guess Brittany just wants me to help her again. Under her text were two messages from Marcel saying, “Hey Zachary want to meet before first period starts?” “We can meet right outside our class.” Well, now I have to choose between three people. But under Marcel’s text was a message from my mom saying, “Goooood Morning Hun! I hope you have an amazing last day of school! And I remember that you have thirty dollars in your backpack for the Farewell Bloom Festival! Have fun!” How could I have forgotten it was the Bloom Festival today! They even do it every year for the last day of school, but it always passes my mind. Thankfully Mom gave me money. Now I feel even more guilty for not checking hard enough for money for the homeless. But the first text message I got in the morning was again from Eric saying, “Meet me in the cafeteria!” Eric seems like an urgent matter, I could help Brittany after school, I’ll need to buy things for the Bloom Festival, and Marcel just wants to talk. He never wants to talk! I guess things change before summer break starts.

I looked inside my backpack for the money that Mom had given to me. It was located where she’d always put stuff for me. In a little section of the front of the backpack, that was easy to find.

As I walked inside the school, I could see tables spread throughout the hallways. These tables at the front of the school are always the most populated. And it was all in the spirit of Farewell to some and Later to others. The tables, filled with beautiful roses and little cards where you could add a message on them. But for those who weren’t as creative, the cards already had something sweet written. I looked through the hallways trying to find a table that didn’t have so many people. I then stumbled across a hallway filled with tables and the sellers, but no buyers. So I went over to one of the tables and said, “Can I buy five roses and five cards?” But that’s when I noticed the person wasn’t looking at me, but down on the floor. He then said, “That’ll be ten dollars, sir,” as he had his hand out in front of him. I don’t remember it costing this much! But it doesn’t matter because at least I’ll “Bloom a good smile,” which is the motto of the festival. I then placed the only two five-dollar bills I had on his hand. He swiftly took the money and said, “Thank you.” As he grabbed the roses behind him and the cards on the table, he continued, “Here are your roses and cards.” “Thank you,” I said as I left. I don’t really know who that was because they didn’t show their face, but they did it so well.

Now on who to go to; Eric or Marcel. They’re both amazing friends of mine, but technically Eric messaged me first. So I’ll quickly see what Eric needs and then go talk to Marcel. Sounds like a game plan; hopefully, it doesn’t backfire!

As I went inside the cafeteria (which was near the middle half of the school), I saw it near empty. From all the tables, only one had students- Dillion, Rivier, and Eric. They seemed to be talking; maybe I should just leave them alone. River and I aren’t on good terms. As I turned around to leave the cafeteria, I heard someone yell, “Watch out!” I looked back and noticed that Amy (the vice principal of Student Council) and Gregory had bumped into each other creating a mess around them of red roses. I walked over to help the two as everyone else was just watching.

As I went to pick up a rose, Amy said, “You don’t have to help Zachary. If anything, Gregory over here should be helping!” With a strict emphasis on Gregory’s name. As I stood back up, I saw that Amy was looking at Gregory with a strict look; Gregory was looking away and seemed like he’d run away any second. I then responded to Amy, a calm look and tone, “It really is okay. I can help out. But remember not to be so harsh on your tone,” as I handed her a rose I picked up. Amy grabbed the rose I handed to her and continued to pick up the other roses. Gregory looked up at me and nodded his head as if he said, “Thank you.” I then handed him one of my own roses and the card attached. He then approached Amy with the rose and card. Amy turned to him and grabbed the rose in a more calming way. I guess my work here is done. Now to go find Marce-.

I then felt a slight tap on my shoulder, I looked back and saw Eric. “Zachary, where’ve you been! I’ve tried texting, but nothing! You’re so late! Anyways, come and have a seat,” Eric said as he pointed at the table River was sitting at. Before I could say anything, he was already walking me to the table.

River seemed to be on his phone and didn’t look up. Eric then sat me down across from River. Eric tapped his shoulder, and in an instant, River looked up. We made eye contact which felt like my own eternity until he said, “What are you doing here Zachary!” He then turned to Eric and said, “You promised we were only going to talk! Not Zachary'' Seems like I should just go. But before I could leave and before Eric could say something, River already left running. Eric then said to me, “Sorry, I thought this would help you two.” I responded, “It’s okay. Thank you for trying.” Before I could give Eric a rose and card, he’d already left running after River. I got up from the blue table I was sitting at and started walking to English class to talk to Marcel.

How did I mess up so badly with River? It all started on a very blue Monday, just after lunch. As I was walking to the Student Council class, River came up to me with tears. He said the exact words, “It’s over! I can’t believe I could even trust you!” And he ran off without another word. I was shocked at what had happened, I looked over to see people whispering at their blue lockers. Eyes from all directions made me question what I did. It was later that day when Eric came up to me to talk about it. A rumor, breaking the forever bond that I had with River. It was finally found out that River and I had been dating. River and I had already been dating for almost the whole school year, but his parents weren’t as supportive. On that day, River and I faked breaking up, it was like a little bump in the road. Luckily no one from the school noticed that we were dating as we had just been dating for a month. But during that same day, I promised to never tell another soul that we were dating. That once it was all over, we’d live the life we imagined.

Now, the whole school knew, but the thing is that I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Eric! Actually, the only person that I did tell was Jake. He was extremely supportive of how I found out my true self so fast and young. And Jake doesn’t have any way to contact anyone at this school except for me since he lives in New York. I don’t know how this person found out or why they would spread it, but it does hurt to see him gone.

I tried explaining to River, but he doesn’t answer any of my texts or calls. Even at school, he wouldn’t talk to me all week. But I guess he was talking to Eric for comfort. My biggest concern is how hurt is he. Especially with this school spreading this rumor outside of school and onto social media. I know that by now, his family must’ve seen the rumor. I just wish I could talk to him and tell him the trut-.

“You okay, Zachory?” I looked over and saw it was Mr. Johns, the English teacher. I then said, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little lost in my thoughts.” “Well, Mr. Lost, you’re late for my class. The bell rang. But since it is the last day and I’m running a little late, it’s okay.” Wait, the bell has already rung! That means I wasn’t able to talk to Marcel! I’m just lucky that Mr. Johns is giving me a break. As I walked into class with Mr. Jones, I saw Marcel laying down his head on his desk.

“So it’s just a free day today. I’d be happy to sign your yearbook. If you need to go outside, just ask,” Mr. Johns said. He then sat down at his desk and started reading his book. First, let me write something on these little cards. On this first card, it had a hand’s palm on the front. I opened it and it read, “I’m a friend that’ll always help.” On the bottom, I added with a pen, “We can talk now?” Which was specifically for Marcel. I then brought all the roses with me to talk to Marcel. As I tapped his shoulder, he looked up with a face of concern. I then said, “Sorry, abo-.” “Can we go outside?” Marcel asked while interrupting me. I then walked over to Mr. Johns’ desk. I then tapped his desk and he looked up from his book. I then asked, “Is it okay if Marcel and I go outside?” He looked over at the clock and said, “Yeah sure. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

I walked over to Marcel and tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me, and we left the classroom. As we did, Marcel said, “So I finally learned how to use my phone for more than just sending messages.” “Oh, that’s good,” I added. He continued with a sad tone, “Yeah, but I saw this post thingy on social media, and it was all about you and River… is it true?” Wait, Marcel didn’t know this whole time! He doesn’t talk to too many people, but even for him, it’s kind of much. I then responded with a soft tone, “The rumor about River and I is true. We were dating, but I never told anyone.” He then responded, “It’s okay. The post went into deep detail about the rumor. I just wanted to tell you, but I guess you already knew.” I then concernedly asked, “Actually, it all started on Monday; haven’t you heard or seen anything about River and me?” “No. I’m not that big on rumors or anything. But you should’ve told me. I wanted to help,” he added. “Well thank you. And before I forget,” I said as I handed him the rose attached with the card, “here is your rose!” Marcel then said, “Aw, thank you. Let me check the card.” Wait, the card just has-. Marcel then giggled, “Well, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I?” I quickly responded, “Yes, but I was supposed to give you that before we talked.” Marcel giggled again and said, “Well, we should get to class now. Just remember I’m always here to talk.” We entered the classroom, Marcel, with a rose, and I had my three roses left.

As the bell rang, Mrs. Jenkins said, “Have an amazing break, everyone!” That’s fourth period done. I just need to get through lunch, fifth period, and sixth period then I’m free from school. I sadly don’t have any of the classes with Eric at all. And for the last two periods, I don’t have any close friends. So lunch is going to be a good time to talk to someone; I hope River and I can discuss. I also still have these three roses.

As I walked into the cafeteria, I didn’t see Eric, Marcel, Brittany, or River. Where is everyone, it’s not like I’m early for lunch. As I was about to look around, I saw Dillon and Gregory talking to each other. I walked over to their table and before I could sit down, Gregory stood up and said, “Can I talk to you real quick?” “Yeah, sure.”

Gregory then took me to an empty hallway where he finally spoke up, “All I wanted to say was… thank you.” In shock, I said, “Oh, you’re wel-.” But before I could finish, he’d already left. I didn’t even notice he left so fast! I guess I helped him; it’s something to lift my spirit. And right now, it helped more than he could imagine.

As I was finally leaving sixth period, I noticed that some left a book on the floor. I picked it up and noticed it was Quincy’s notebook! Quincy is one of the top students in the school, he’d never just leave his notebook on purpose! I need to go find him in this avalanche of people in the halls! But I think Quincy always goes to Ms. Berkeley’s class before leaving school. So I should find him there!

As I finally made it out of the avalanche of students, I noticed someone sitting down in the middle of the hallway. As I approached them, I noticed it was Quincy! You could tell from his light gold hair, skinny pants, and back shirt. As I got closer, I heard him sobbing! As I was next to him, I said, “You left your notebook in class and ar-.” He then interrupted with loud sobs, “Thank you,” as he looked up at me, his face turned pale, he continued, “oh don’t look at me, Zachary.” He then grabbed the notebook from my hands and went in the same position. I then sat next to him and said, “I’m here to talk if you want?” “What, so you can just tell the whole school!” he said with an angry tone. “What do you mean?” I asked in confusion. “I heard the rumor,” he said with big sobs. I then took a deep breath and said, “Quincy, do you really think I would do that to my boyfriend?” He quietly said, “No.” “Exactly, there was just someone that told everyone. I’m in a rough state, but I still want to help you.” He then said, “But we’ve never even talked outside of school.” I then handed him a rose, he looked up and had a brief smile. He then read out loud the card, “It’s never too late to start things.” Then his brief smile turned into a blooming smile. He added, “What is this some kind of proposal?” I then said, “A proposal to become your friend.” He looked over at me and said, “Thank you, this really did help. It’s just that my girlfriend broke up with me. So I guess we kind of share a memory. I hope everything goes well for you. And thank you again for this and my notebook.” But before I could say something, he handed me a little note from his pocket. As he handed it to me, he said, “This is my phone number, maybe we can talk during the summer?” As I grabbed the piece of paper, I said, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to text you when I get home.” He stood up, and we departed ways, Quincy to Ms. Berkeley’s room while I was going to leave school.

As I was walking out of Breeze high for the last time this school year, I saw Eric running towards me. As he was running, he yelled, “Zachary! You really need to go talk to River!” Once he was in front of me, he was out of breath but trying to say something. I then said, “First catch your breath and then you can tell me.” After a few seconds of Eric panting, he then said, “I really messed up with you and River today. You need to talk to him. I’m so sorry, but you might be the only person to make him happy.” I then calmly said, “It’s not your fault at all Eric. Than-. Actually,” I then grabbed from my backpack one of the last roses and continued, “this is your rose. The card will do the talking.” As he took the rose from my hand, he smiled and said, “Thank you, Zachary. Also, River by Café Venteux.” Eric’s French has gotten so good! Even if it’s his third year in French class. “Okay, bye! Talk to you later!” I then left running towards the café.

As I made it near the café, I didn’t see River. But I saw the same homeless man in the morning outside the café. I walked towards him and he said, “Hey again, I hope you have a nice day.” I then searched in my left pocket for the twenty-dollar bill that mom gave me. Once I touched it, I said, “I actually got something for you,” as he looked up, I handed over the twenty dollars. He then smiled with great joy, saying, “Thank you! May God bless you!” He then went inside the café. As my eyes followed him, I saw River at the far end of the café.

As I walked inside the café, it made its little jingle. I walked over to where River was sitting and took a seat across from him. He didn’t look up until I tapped his shoulder. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood up. But before he could run away again, I stopped him. He was weaker now, not like usual, so I was easily about to sit him down on one of the wooden booths. I then sat next to him.

Before I could talk, he sobbingly said, “Why would you do that?” I then quickly responded, “I would never do that. I hope you can understand that I didn’t tell anyone about our relationship.” He responded, “Then how did people know! How come I got hurt!” He’s deeply hurt. “River, I want you to remember who I am. I never would do such a thing. I love you with all my heart. I just,” I started to tear, “I just don’t want it to be over a rumor someone started.” River then hugged me; I hugged back. I then let go with my left hand to grab my last rose. As I did, River looked up at me. As I handed him the bruised, color fading, few pedaled rose, I said, “I don’t ever want to lose you. Let us get through this together.”

[ladycumhangabhainn]

Dans un autre monde - Chapter 10

Previously

  I was coming to the end of my story, how Jamie had gotten me and Faith to Craigh na Dun when the entrance door came bursting open and the sound of Faith, Brianna and Roger’s crying filled the Rectory.

 “Mama!” shouted my youngest.

 “Bree, darling, what’s the matter?”

 “Roger, lad, why are ye all crying?”

 At the grand old age of 9, Roger wasn’t known to cry for nothing, so something must have happened. Before the sweet lad could answer, the younger Mrs Graham came in, carrying her own daughter Fiona.

 “Reverend, Miss Beauchamp, I think yer lad and lassies might have some ear infection... We were having a picnic, then they started complaining about their ears...”

 “Mama, they scweamed!” sobbed Faith. “They were so loud, mama!”

 I frowned. “What was so loud? Roger, what is she talking about?”

 “The sound, auntie Claire, the sound was awful!”

 Sound? Screams?

 “Where did you say you went on your picnic?”

 “Just outside the city, Miss Beauchamp. Near this hill, Craigh na Dun.”

It took time, some cajoling and a full platter of Mrs Graham’s biscuits, but I finally succeeded in calming Roger, Faith and Brianna. They exhausted themselves and were now all napping in the girls’ room. I made my way back to Reggie’s study, the manse quiet except for the soft music coming from the kitchen.

 “Reggie...”

 The reverend’s desk was scattered with papers, the letters and proclamation I had found, but also what looked like a family tree and a piece of paper filled with Reggie’s familiar scribbling.

 “The bairns...”

 “They exhausted themselves. They’re napping in the girls’ room.”

“Good... I’ve been looking through all the papers ye found and tried to make a timeline... We are now in August 1950 which means that during yer Jamie’s time it is now August 1748... 202 years difference, right?”

I nodded and noted his frowned expression.

“What seems to be the problem, Reggie?”

He sighed.

“It’s all those dates... Nothing is right! The letter from the French King is dated May of 1748... And this letter from the Duke of Cumberland is dated September of 1748... In September 1748, Cumberland was in the Holy Roman Empire for the signing of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle! It is impossible that ye and the lassies... Unless...”

 He started opening drawers full of paperwork, fished out a photograph before going to the mantle of the fireplace and taking a framed document.

 “McMaster!” he exclaimed, handing me the framed and the picture.

 The framed contained what looked like a very old document in Latin with several seals at the bottom.

 “I don’t understand... What is this document and who or what is McMaster?”

A smile appeared on the Reverend’s face.

 “This, me dear, is a photograph of the Declaration of Arbroath, the letters the Scottish barons sent to Pope John XXII in 1320 in response to the excommunication of Robert the Bruce. It is currently held at the Scottish Record Office in Edinburgh. And this” he pointed to the frame, “is an almost perfect copy of the Declaration that was made by a dear friend of mine, Ray McMaster.”

 “A copy, you say?”

 I couldn’t quite believe that this document was not the real deal. It looks exactly like the one in the picture, albeit without the signs of time.

 “So your friend, McMaster... He’s a counterfeiter?”

 Reggie let out a jolly laugh.

 “In another life he might have been... No, he is an artist. He works with several museums throughout Britain. As ye must know from yer experiences with yer Uncle Lambert, artifacts are priceless and mostly fragile. It is the same for documents and that’s when Ray comes in. He made several copies of documents that are on display at the Culloden Museum, like letters from Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Scottish Lairds Declaration to the Old Pretender.”

 “You want to ask your friend to make copies of King Louis and the Duke of Cumberland’s letters...”

 “Yes! It might take him awhile; Ray is quite the perfectionist... But the proclamation is dated July of 1749, so it will give you and the girl time to get ready to make the trip back through the stones...”

 He smiled, sheepishly.

 “And it will give us time to get use to the idea of ye and yer lasses leaving...”

 I sighed before hugging him. The girls and I would be reunited with Jamie and our family back in the 18th century, but it will mean saying goodbye to our 20th century family. The idea of leaving Reggie, Roger and Mrs Graham suddenly made me feel faint... 

“Promise me something, lass... Promise me ye’ll try to find a way to get word to us, to let us ken ye are all safe...”

 “I promise, Reggie... I think I might even have an idea how. You do business with a publishing house from Edinburgh, Fraser Press. It was founded back in the 18th century as F.A.M.M. Fraser, Printer and Book Seller...”

 He frowned. “F.A.M.M. Fraser? Yer lad, Fergus?”

 I nodded. “According to Mrs Graham, Fraser Press still belongs to my Fergus’ descendants... I’ll forever be thankful for what you did for me and my girls...”

 “I feel as if ye and yer lasses are me own... Like ye are part of me family and... maybe ye are, in a way.”

 He took the family tree from the table, it was a MacKenzie family tree.

 “Tis wee Roger’s family tree, from his father’s side. See if ye can find any name ye recognize...”

 I looked at the very top and let out a gasp.

 “William John and Sarah MacKenzie... They’re... They adopted Dougal and Geillis’ son... Oh my God! That means that Roger is...”

 “Dougal, ye mean the War Chieftain of clan MacKenzie?”

 “Yes, he was Jamie’s uncle, his mother’s brother... He had an affair with Geillis Duncan, the fiscal’s wife, but... She was a traveler, from 1968... And Roger can hear the stones as well... But then he is...”

 I tried to calculate in my head, but Reggie was quicker.

 “It means that wee Roger is yer lasses’ 2nd cousin, 6 times removed. So ye are, indeed, family.”

 “So I truly am Auntie Claire!”

 We laughed and cried at the same time, Reggie holding me in his arms and whispering softly. I felt so safe in his embrace. It reminded me of how safe I felt in Uncle Lamb’s embrace.

 “Now, me dear, we have to make preparations...”

                                                           ****

 And so we did. First we had to contact Mr McMaster who took quite his time responding to the message Reggie left with his assistant. Then with the help of Mrs Graham and her coven of druids, we salvaged pieces of the clothing Faith and I had wore on our arrival to 1948 and made three new dresses with lots of hidden pockets.

Slowly I started to get the girls to the idea that we would be leaving our current lives to be reunited with Jamie and Fergus. Faith had an easier time accepting it than Brianna. The 20th Century was all she had known and, although she had been quite young, my eldest daughter still had vivid memories of our lives in the past. She was able to get her sister excited at the prospect of finally meeting their father and their brother. My sweet little girl made sure to tell Brianna that both Jamie and Fergus would love her and that Fergus would teach her all the French comptines she couldn’t remember.

 We celebrated first Faith’s 4th birthday, then my own 32nd and finally Brianna’s 2nd. After Hogmanay, the girls started counting down the day until we would leave. We had decided that the best moment to pass through the Stones would be on the Summer Solstice. And so we counted the days and waited for Mr McMaster to send the copy of the letters. And we waited, and waited, and waited. By late May I was beginning to think the letters would never get on time and that we would miss our window of opportunity. That is until June 15th, 5 days before our set departure date.

 Reggie had taken Mrs Graham, Roger and the girls on an outing by the Loch and I was doing some last minute check, making sure all the medicine I had “borrowed” from the Infirmary would fit in all the hidden pockets of my traveling clothes, counting all the vintage coins we had found in several antique boutiques, when someone rang the doorbell.

 “Yes?” I said to the well dressed man standing on the doorstep.

 “I have a parcel for Mrs Claire Fraser...”

 Claire Fraser... I hadn’t been called that in what seemed like a lifetime ago...

 “Yes... I mean... I am Claire Fraser.”

 He handed me a large envelop before wishing me a nice day. The envelope was indeed addressed to me, but there was no return address. I slowly made my way to Reggie’s study and opened it. Inside were two sealed documents as well as what looked like antique bank statement from the Royal Bank of Scotland and three delicate necklaces with gemstones. In between those documents was a simple white envelope with one word, Madonna.

 Ma chère Madonna,

 You must have now deduced that Ray McMaster and the Paris apothecary you met a long time ago are one and the same.

You see, I have been watching you for years, Madonna. I first met you when you were a small child, pushed in a pram by your mother in an Oxford park. Your light, even at such a young age, shined a bright blue. Our second meeting happened shortly after your parents’ untimely death, when you were travelling to Egypt with your Uncle Lambert.

You see, Madonna, the Beauchamp are quite dear to me and I was tasked – or more likely I tasked myself – into looking after them through Time.  Just like you, Madonna, I am a traveler. I have traveled for so long that I somehow forgot where and when I am from. But I have never forgotten my line. You are of my line, Madonna. You come from a long line of what now people call time traveler.

Your destiny was always to travel through the Stones of Craigh na Dun and to meet your Highlander. And it is my destiny to reunite you with him.

I was able to visit Versailles recently. Do not worry, Madonna, King Louis didn’t recognized me. Although for him 4 years had passed since our last encounter, for me it had been a couple of decades. After leaving Versailles I made a quick detour by Aix-la-Chapelle and met with the Duke of Cumberland. I was able to convince him of the innocence and the loyalty of both you and your Highlander. Quite the man, that Butcher of Culloden.

I know Reginald believe me to be an artist – a counterfeiter maybe – but as you can see I am simply a traveler. Don’t tell him that the Declaration of Arbroath I gave him a couple of years ago is actually one of the original copy. I don’t think he would survive the shock.

Aurevoir for now, Madonna, for I am sure we will meet again.

 Raymond

 PS. I almost forgot, you will also find bank papers allowing you to access an account at the Royal Bank of Scotland in Edinburgh back in the 18th Century. I opened it in 1727 in your name, hopefully the fund will allow you and your Highlander to live comfortably. – R

PPS. The gemstones necklaces should allow you to pass through the Stones and through time more easily. Opal for yourself and your Faith and topaz for your Brianna. – R

 I didn’t realize I was crying until a tear fell on the letter, staining the paper. I didn’t know what to think about all that, but knowing Master Raymond had spent years furtively watching over me...

 “Thank you...” I said before putting the precious documents away.

                                                         ****

 Before I even realized it, it was June 20th. We all went to bed quite early the previous night and got up a couple of hours before dawn. I took my time getting the girls ready before joining Reggie and Roger down in the kitchen for a light breakfast – I knew from experience that it was better to travel through the Stones on an empty stomach.

 “Do ye really have to go, Auntie Claire?” asked Roger, eyes still red from having cried himself to sleep.

 “I’m afraid we do, sweet boy... But I promise I will find a way to get word to you as soon as we can...”

 The car ride was spent in silence and as we arrived at Craigh na Dun we were meet by Mrs Graham and some of her fellow Druids. Unlike for Beltane and Samhain, the Midsommer Druids Dance was done only by 3 dancers led by Mrs Graham.

 “They are ready for ye, me dear...”

 That’s when it hit me... I turned toward Reggie and Roger, hugging them as if my life depended on it, pressing kisses to the cheeks and tasting their salty tears. The girls too hugged them and kissed them goodbye, Brianna having to be pried from her grip on Roger’s neck.

 We finally made the trek up the hill and the buzzing sent more tears to my daughters’ eyes. Arriving in front of the central stone, I took Brianna in my arms, balancing her on my hip, and held Faith’s little hand.

 “Alright, girls... Now I want you to think about your father and brother... Think about them and about finally seeing them... I want you to count to three with me, and at three we will all touch the stone, alright?”

 They both nodded.

 “One... Two... Three!”

 TBC

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch7: Ordinary People

Chapter Summary: Frank feels the aftermath of his dumbassery

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Flash backs to domestic violence.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, however they can also be done pretty fast. With that in mind, and because it fits with how I want the story to go I’m spreading it over approximately 6 weeks or so, so just roll with me! As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

Chapter Song: Ordinary People by John Legend

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

“I saw you…he had his hands all over you.”

“John, I didn’t want him to…he was drunk, just being over friendly…”

Fliss cowered as a sneer crossed her husband’s face, the features she found so handsome once upon a time were distorted in anger, his dark green eyes clouded with rage as he towered over where she sat on the crouch. In a flash he had reached out and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her to her feet. Fliss gave a cry of pain, stumbling after him as he dragged her up the stairs. She tripped at one point, her hip colliding painfully with one of the steps but he paid it no attention.

No mercy.

“You’re mine Sugar” he said, his voice steely “you know that.”

“I know…” she sobbed as he threw her into the bedroom. She scrambled for purchase on the bed as he pushed her hard so she fell face down, but before she could raise herself again he had grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her face into the pillows.

“Why do you make me do this, Felicity?” He asked, releasing his hold as his thighs bracketed hers. Fliss heard the tell-tale clinking of his belt and she gave another sob, knowing full well what was coming. He roughly pushed her dress up over her hips, leaving her underwear clad ass exposed.

And then the leather stuck her. Again. And again. And again.

“I’ll mark you so hard no one else will ever want you…” he snarled as he continued his assault. “You’re mine…“ Fliss sat bolt upright, gasping as she glanced around her bedroom. Thor, hearing her breathing jumped up onto her bed and shoved his head under her arm as she clamped her hands over her face. Looking down at him she buried her face into the dog’s fur, holding him tight as her breathing evened out. She ran through her calming thoughts in her head, imagining the sound of the ocean, the wind in her hair as she galloped on the beach, the soft and gentle hugs she received from her dad, her mum…and dare she even think it, Frank. And then another image filled he head. The sight of him kissing Bonnie at the bar.

“Wanker…” she muttered, wiping the tears from her face as Thor licked her cheek, his tail wagging as she stroked him. She was shaking slightly, the dream had been so real, so vivid, she could almost physically feel the pain. John had belted her so badly that night she hadn’t been able to ride for a week, and she still bore the marks where the buckle had ripped through her panties and skin.

The worst thing was, that after he had finished, he had held her, stroking her hair, soothing her, explaining why he had to punish her so much. It was sick, twisted. Just like him. “No power over me anymore, no power, no power…” she repeated her mantra through gritted teeth before she pushed the duvet down and swung her legs out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

***** Frank had also woken up to a nightmare. His head was pounding from the shots he’d downed at the bar and being jerked awake by Bonnie’s screams as Mary had turned up in the apartment earlier than she was allowed on a Saturday hadn’t exactly helped the situation, not to mention the fact that he had fucked Mary’s school teacher for no reason other than the fact he was drunk, stressed and needed a release. Thankfully she seemed to be in the same place as him about the entire situation as he saw her out to a cab, apologising for Mary’s interruption, literally incapable of thinking of anything else to say. It was the most awkward morning after he had ever experienced.

And there was something else compounding his growing bad mood. When he had finally checked his phone as he stood outside for a few moments after Bonnie had gone, hoping the fresh air would sort his head out, he realised he had a number of messages from Fliss and a few missed calls. Groaning he remembered that he should have called her after the court case. Firing her a quick apology promising to talk to her later when it was time for Mary’s lesson, before he headed back inside.

Mary was sat on the rug with her lego, pieces scattered all over, Ice Age playing on the TV.

“Awkward…”  she sing songed

“Mary…” Frank looked at her for a moment and when she didn’t look at him he crouched down

“Stop! Stop! Stop with the Legos. Listen.” he took a breath and she looked at him “Do we have a rule about Saturday morning?”

“What?” she said softly

“Are you allowed in this apartment this early on Saturday morning?” Frank pressed, looking at her.

“No.” Mary sighed, averting her eyes from his.

“No!” Frank said, a little louder before he paused again “Are you allowed to… Hey!” he reached out to stop Mary as she returned to her Toys. “Stop! Enough with the Lego! Are you allowed to use Roberta’s keys?”

“No.” she still wasn’t looking at him.

“No!” Frank said, his voice gathering momentum “So, hey! Look at me. Then why are you here? Huh? Can you answer me that?”

Mary’s eyes filled with tears but Frank was too angry at the fact she had disobeyed him to comfort her.

“You broke every rule! You just embarrassed me. We have these rules.” he said standing up, turning to head back out of the door into the kitchen “We’ve gone over them a hundred times!” And then he stepped on a piece of Lego in his bare feet. His frustration boiled over as he hopped on one leg, clutching the side of the dresser which was pushed flush against the wall.

“Shit…” he yelled “God, damned it…” he slapped the side of the dresser, leaning against it,as he bent down to rub his foot  “Can I just get five minutes of my own life?”

At that Mary jumped up and bolted into his bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Frank stood up, before he sighed, one hand on his hip, his eyes closed. He’d overreacted, he knew that. He was more pissed at himself for being an idiot than he was at Mary. He ran his hand over his face and glanced at the clock. Mary’s riding lesson was at 2 and it was now just pushing 10:30. Deciding to leave Mary to cool down before he made breakfast he headed into the kitchen to clear up yesterday’s dishes.

He heard the door to his room click open about twenty minutes later. Giving her another 10 he wiped the counter down before he made his way back into the main room and sat on the edge of her bed, where she was snuggled down in her alcove which sported a collection of shells they had stuck to the wood panels and a few photos, one of her mom, one of her and Frank and one of her and Fliss with Monty. She was huddled in the corner, Fred laying on her knee, the laptop resting on his back as she tapped away.

“Nothing that happened today was your fault.” Frank said gently and looked at her “I got mad at you…I was really mad at me…” he looked at her and she continued to ignore him “…and the manufacturers of Legos. They should all be in prison. So I’m sorry.” he said gently. She paused tapping but still didn’t look at him. “Do you forgive me?”

“Sure. Whatever.” she mumbled.

“Hey, close the laptop. Come on. Please. Doesn’t count if it’s not eye to eye.”

She hesitated so he asked again, gently. “Come on, please.”

With a sigh she did was she was told and looked at him, her eyes so like Diane’s were full of sadness and Frank felt his gut twist in guilt.

“Do you really have no life because of me?”

Fuck. Frank cursed himself for his outburst before and shook his head.

“That’s not what I said.” he looked at her.

“Did you mean it?” she pressed, not buying his statement for one minute, her voice soft.

“Last week you said I was the worst Uncle in the world and you wished death upon me ‘cause I didn’t buy you a piano.” Frank looked at her, holding her gaze. “Did you mean that?”

“No” Mary replied, her fingers tangling in Fred’s fur “Not entirely.”

“Well…” Frank said, “There you go. We say things all the time we don’t mean. So let’s forget it, okay?”

“Okay” Mary agreed

“Okay.”  Frank nodded, standing up

“Frank?” she called as he headed towards the door to head down and check the mail. He stopped and turned back, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a piano?”

“No.” he said, turning for the door.

He strode down across the lawn to the mail boxes, unlocked his and pulled out 2 letters. One looked like a bill, the other was in a manila coloured envelope, and was stamped with some kind of official seal.

“Was that really Mary's teacher this morning?” Roberta appeared. He glanced at her and returned to his post “And there was me thinking Fliss would stop you doing anything stupid…”

Frank’s head shot up “Fliss?” he frowned “What….”

“She came here last night, to see you. We roped her into Karaoke before she left and she said she was going to come and find you at Fergs”

Frank frowned. “Well she didn’t. I never saw her last night so she-”

Oh,fuck fuck fuck! He trailed off with a groan as he realised that she had probably seen him with Bonnie and then he felt a stinging slap round the back of his head.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, glaring at Roberta “Jesus…that fucking hurt!”

“Good…” she stared at him. “You know I have a book called ‘Fundamentals of Decision Making’. You can borrow it.” ‘

He glared at her, he didn’t need this. Not now. His attention turned back to the letter and he noticed the seal was from the court house. With a frown he opened it. The header- ‘Highsmith, Kistler & Sellers Attorneys at Law’ greeted him and he started to read. It was an order for him to surrender Mary for 2 days into Evelyn’s care, at a time and date to be agreed. It wasn’t unexpected but it was pretty fast considering it had only been agreed yesterday. His mother really wasn’t wasting any time.

“What is it?”  Roberta asked, noticing the frown on his face

“It’s nothing.” he said, leaning on the post box, still reading the letter “looks like Mary gets to go to Boston for a couple days.”

He noticed Roberta stiffen and he looked at her. “It’s just two days. Relax.” he said gently.

Because he was always honest with Mary he sat down once he was back inside and told her about the letter. She knew there was a court case going on, he had explained it all to her as best as he could so as not to cause her any worry. She soaked up the information and shrugged before saying that going to Boston sounded kinda cool. Frank simply nodded and said that he would sort out the dates on Monday before they ate lunch and headed up to the riding school. As he drove there his stomach was doing flips, the nerves at seeing Fliss were overwhelming, more so because he had no idea what he was going to say to her. It was strange, he felt guilty, even though he had no real reason to. They weren’t an item.

Fliss greeted Mary with the usual warmth before she turned her gaze to Frank, and he could see the hurt in her eyes, compounding that guilty feeling even more.

“Sorry I didn’t call you last night.” he offered and she shrugged.

“It’s ok, I know you were busy.” her voice carried no sarcasm, it was measured and cool but Frank knew she was referring to Bonnie, his suspicions confirmed. She turned away, barking an instruction to Joanne who looked at her, nodding.

Frank leaned on the paddock fence as he always did, a little way from the other parents and watched as Fliss taught the 3 girls, smile on her face. Mary was certainly getting the hang of it now and was able to trot around unaided. After about 40 minutes they were done and heading out of the paddock. Fliss made no attempt to come and speak to him, like normal, and made straight for her office. Casting and eye on Mary who was leading Monty back to the stable he followed Fliss.

“You’re mad at me.” he observed gently.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she replied, pulling 3 cartons of apple juice out of the fridge for the kids.

“Because you saw me last night with Bonnie.” he pressed.

He saw her stiffen slightly before she took a breath and turned round.

“I’m not mad.” she shrugged.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I just…well I think you should have considered Mary a little more, that’s all, instead of simply wanting to get your end away.“ “What does that mean?” he frowned.

“You know damned well what it means.” she looked at him “Mary told me she saw Bonnie this morning, I mean…Jesus Frank that’s her teacher…can you imagine how awkward its gonna be if any of the kids find out that you’re fucking her?” “Ok, I’m not fucking her…” Frank held his hand out to stop her.

“So what were you doing last night then?” Fliss hissed, “Playing scrabble?”

“Hang on, are we really arguing about this?” Frank looked at her, frowning “Why? Why are you so mad about it?”

He paused, looking at her. Her eyes locked onto his and she swallowed, and for a moment he hoped she was going to tell him what he wanted to hear but she shook her head and shrugged.

“You know what, you’re right. What, or who you do in your spare time is your business, not mine.”

With that she pushed past him and headed out into the yard. Frank let out another sigh before he headed out to find Mary.

******

Fliss made no attempts to speak to Frank over the next few days. He messaged her to tell her about Mary heading to Boston at the end of the week and she replied politely, telling him that she was sure it would all work out, but beyond that she didn’t reach out further. However, she did call to wish Mary a safe trip to Boston on the Thursday morning just before Evelyn arrived to pick her up, and told her she wanted to hear all about it when she came home on Saturday afternoon . By the time Frank got the phone back, Fliss had hung up.

“Frank she likes you. “ Roberta said when she popped over to wish Mary goodbye. Mary wasted no time in informing her the reason he was in a bad mood wasn’t just because she was going to Boston, but also because Fliss was angry at him. Of course she had noticed, because she noticed everyting. “She’s hurt and it’s yo own dumbass fault.” the woman concluded.

Yeah, yeah he got that.

With Mary gone, he decided that night to take a cool box of beer down to the harbour and work late. He was in the middle of pulling a gear box apart when his phone went. It was a message from Bonnie asking if she could meet him to talk. Which was how he found himself sat on the deck of the boat, her opposite him, both wrapped in blankets and clutching bottles of Bud.

“I have had a series of nightmares…where I’m fired…because of what happened. You get it?” Bonnie smiled, rolling her eyes. Frank smiled at her as she laughed “And then I remind myself, that everything that happened, was just all the alcohol and people do far worse right?”

At that Frank laughed. “Yeah we were pretty drunk.”

Truth be told whilst he did think Bonnie was attractive, there was nothing there, and that was compounded by the fact that as he sat there, looking at her, he felt no urges at all. She was simply another one of his Friday night hook ups, only this had turned out to be slightly more complicated.

Yeah, he should definitely borrow that book from Roberta

“So I guess, what I came here to say…” Bonnie sighed “I think you’re a great guy Frank, and I’ve got your back on this damned custody case but…me and you…it just…” “Oh, absolutely, I’m with you…” Frank said, agreeing quickly, thanking the Gods she’d brought it up before he had to. “It was a mistake…” Bonnie arched an eyebrow and he sighed .“Shit, I don’t mean that how it sounds but…well, it was, wasn’t it?”

She smiled and nodded, cocking her head to one side as she surveyed him. “I do think you need to speak to Fliss though?”

“Fliss?” Frank frowned, “What’s she got to do with this?”

"You like her.” Bonnie said simply.

Frank paused before he shook his head, smiling “that obvious?” “Yeah, and there’s the fact you called me by her name twice.” Oh Jesus. Ground please open… “What when we… ” he grimaced and she chuckled, raising her eyebrows “Oh God. Bonnie… I’m so sorry.” He groaned and ran his hands over his face.

What a fucking ass hole.

“Like we said, mistake…” Bonnie smiled, “Especially when you’re clearly hung up on another girl. “ “Yeah well whatever may or may not have been there, I think I’ve kinda blown it… story of my life.” Frank sighed taking a pull from his bottle.

“Blown it?”

“Yeah she’s pretty pissed. She saw us in the bar and has hardly spoken a word to me since”

“And you’re giving up that easily?” Bonnie raised an eyebrow. He sighed and she leaned forward slightly “Take it from me, another female, that if she’s that pissed at you over the fact that you hooked up with someone else then she feels something for you Frank.“

They stayed and chatted about the court case for a while and he filled Bonnie in on the running order for the testimonies which would start on Tuesday before she bid him goodnight and left. He contemplated messaging Fliss but decided against it. He worked late again on Friday, for the first time in months foregoing his trip to Ferg’s and by Saturday afternoon he was ready to welcome Mary home. He’d missed her.

“I’m loaded with swag!” she said, with an air of someone out of Gossip Girl, not that he’d seen a lot of that mind, as she skipped towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist as well she could with the bag she was carrying. His hand dropped to the back of her head as he hugged her before he looked up at his mother.

“Wanna come inside?” he asked as Mary skipped off calling Fred’s name.

“Cat.” she said, with a faint smile as she shook her head.

He nodded to her and turned to follow Mary.

“I need to ring Fliss…” Mary said immediately.

“Well, I got a better idea.” Frank said, “How about we head over there and see her?”

“Yesss.” Mary said, before she looked at him. “Are you friends again?”

“We never stopped being friends she’s just mad at me because I did something stupid, but don’t worry, it’ll work out.” he said.

I hope…

***** Fliss was busy on a lesson when her phone went. Taking a quick minute to look at it, she read the message from Frank asking if it was ok if they swung by as Mary was home. With a deep breath she replied telling him it was fine, before she turned back to her client who was one of the boarders on the yard.

She had just about finished some 30 minutes or so later when she heard Mary calling. She turned and gave her a smile and a wave. Once she had finished and taken payment, she turned to Mary and gave the girl a hug.

“Hey…” she smiled. Mary hugged her tight and Fliss chuckled before she glanced up at Frank “Coffee?”

He smiled, taking the olive branch she had offered. “Yeah, sounds great.”

They made their way into the office and Fliss moved to the small kitchenette area at the back, filling the coffee machine before she turned to Mary, leaning against the counter.

“So, tell me all about Boston.” Mary began to gush about all the things she had done, Fliss listening and asking questions as she made her and Frank a coffee. He took his with a thanks whilst Mary told Fliss how she had looked at some photos, learned more about her mom and then done some complicated Maths for a professor at a University. At that Fliss noticed Frank stiffen slightly and she looked at him, gently shaking her head. He smiled tightly and turned to look out over the yard, taking a few steps outside.

“And she has a piano…” Mary finished, “I mean I didn’t get to play it but…”

“You should come over to my mum’s.” Fliss smiled “She’ll let you play hers. That’s what she used to do, teach people music.”

Mary smiled, before she looked over at Frank who was stood watching a few people who were riding in the paddock, the lessons for the day having concluded which mean the boarders were free to do what they wanted.

“Are you still mad at Frank?” she turned back to Fliss.

“Not really.” Fliss said “I got a bit cross but…” “Yeah, he can make me cross too.” Mary said wisely “He does dumb stuff sometimes.”

Fliss laughed and studied the young girl “Yeah, you got that right.” “But he’s a good person.” she shrugged

“I know.” Fliss said, her eyes flicking to him before she looked back at Mary.

“I don’t want to live with Evelyn.” Mary shrugged “I mean she was nice and looks like my mom but…she’s bossy.” Fliss smiled.

“And I want to stay with Frank.” Mary continued “Because I know he loves me. And he did before he found out I was smart.”

Fliss felt a lump in her throat at the girl’s confession. She glanced over at Frank again who ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes underneath his shades.

“Hey, Mary, why don’t you go say hi to Monty.” she said gently, “Tell Joanne I said you could help with the feeds.” “Yesss.” she said, scooting off her chair and shooting across the yard. Fliss saw Frank follow her with her eyes before he turned to her as she walked over to him.

“Hey.” she said, her tone soft. “How you holding up?” “Apart from screwing up my life, I’m good.” he snorted, taking off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his t-shirt  “Just hope I’m not screwing hers up as well.”

“Don’t’ say that.” Fliss shook her head “You know that’s not true. Mary’s fine…”

“I hate that we haven’t been talking.” he said after a pause,  looking at her. “Been kinda lonely.”

“I thought you’d have been with Bonnie.” she said softly, shrugging.

Frank sighed “I’ve only seen her once, this week. And that was so we could have a straight up conversation about how what happened was a mistake”

“A mistake?” Fliss raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Frank said “And as far as mistakes go…that one was pretty spectacular.”

“And you actually said that to her?”

He nodded.

“Wow… “ she snorted.

“She agreed so…” Frank shrugged and he held her gaze for a second before he took a deep breath “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” he pressed “Because you thought we were… you know, together?”

Fliss swallowed and looked away, trying to think of something to say that didn’t give her feelings away. He’d hit the nail on the head. She had thought that, and more over she was jealous so had distanced herself on purpose.

“I just…” she looked back at him, “Well, I didn’t want to step on any toes, so to speak, that’s all.”

“There’s none to step on, trust me.” Frank said gently.

“So err, anyway, she seems to have enjoyed Boston.” Fliss changed the subject.

“Yeah.” Frank said

“So what’s next?”

“Well she has a err, court interview with the Child Welfare department or whatever they’re called on Monday.” he said.

“Sure it’ll be fine.” Fliss replied “It’s not like she’s treated badly or her welfare is an issue Frank.”

“And the hearing starts in full on Tuesday.” he said “And they’re opening with a bang.” Fliss frowned as he turned to face her “Greg called me yesterday. Mary’s biological father has apparently signed an affidavit, nominating my mother as Mary’s legal guardian.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Fliss hissed, suddenly seething with anger as Frank shook his head “That’s a real shitty trick.”

“Yep” Frank agreed.

“Does Mary know?”

“No. I’ll have to tell her though, otherwise Evelyn will no doubt during her access.”

“She gets access?”

“Yeah, whilst this is going on she gets visitation rights so…” Frank shrugged, and Fliss couldn’t help but notice his despondent nature.

“So when you gonna tell her?”

“Tuesday night, after it’s done. I don’t want her worrying or knowing he’s in town because if she knows and he doesn’t ask to see her…at least once he’s gone then…” he bit his lip “She’s gonna be upset either way but, what else can I do?”

“Nothing but what you think is best.”  Fliss said gently “I told you before that’s all you can do Frank.” He looked at her and she sighed, opening her arms and he gladly stepped towards her, wrapping her up in a hug.

******

“Mr. Polland, are you the…natural father of Mary Adler?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Frank sat still, glaring at the ass hole sat in the dock.

“And how you can be certain of this?

“Well, I always knew, but then you had me take a DNA test.”

Course they did…

I would offer the test results as result of evidence of that Mr. Polland is the father and natural guardian of the minor. As well as an affidavit from Mr. Polland nominating Mrs. Adler the maternal grandmother as the legal guardian of the minor.”

Frank sat up slightly, his jaw clenching. This ass hole had no right to decide what was best for Mary, he’d never fucking met her. Greg touched his arm, shaking his head before he stood up.

“No objections.”

“Mr. Polland has Mrs. Adler offered you any monetary reward or employment for coming forward today?” Evelyn’s attorney continued.

No, sir. I have a job of my own.”

Frank suppressed a snort. Bullshit she hasn’t paid you.

“Thank you. No further questions, your Honour.”

Cullen rose again and waited a second before he opened his cross examination “Mr. Polland when was the last time you saw Mary?”

“I've never seen her.” Polland shifted slightly and Frank watched him intently.

“Why not?”

“By the time I heard about Diane…passing the baby was gone already.”

Her name is Mary, ass hole… Frank took a deep breath.

“Well, did you try and find her?” Cullen pressed.

“Best I could. I couldn’t just go and search the entire country.” Polland shook his head, trying to make a joke out of it. Frank was pleased to see the judge wasn’t laughing.

Greg nodded and paused once more before suddenly asking “Do you use a computer at work?”

“Sure.” Polland replied

“You know what? Help me out.” Greg said, grabbing his laptop “Let's google 'Mary Adler’ and see what we find.” he placed the laptop on the dock and turned it towards Polland. The man hesitated for a while and looked at the Judge who gestured with his hand, instructing him to do as he was told. Polland began to tap when Jason spoke again “You know what? You better add her middle name.”

Frank watched as Polland stopped, because of course he had no idea what her midde name was.

“It'll narrow it down. Eileen” Cullen said. Polland looked up and caught Frank’s eye, his face sheepish. Frank kept his face straight, his chin resting on his hand, fingers making an L-shape round his jaw as Polland looked away and began to tap..

“Yeah, hit enter.” Greg instructed. “Ok, now head to page 2…second hit…would you please tell the court what you see there?”

Polland hesitated “It’s a newspaper article called ‘Not so terrible twos’”

“And one of them is Mary Eileen Adler.”  Greg nodded “Same name as your daughter. Born on the same day as your daughter. With a photograph”

Polland looked at him.

“In your defence, you’d never recognize it…”

“Your Honour, this is…” Evelyn’s attorney stood up but Cullen was quick to cut him off

“Your Honour, if there’s one thing here that's sadly obvious it’s that Mr. Polland has never been a genuine guardian of the minor and his nomination of Mrs. Adler is no less disingenuous.” he looked at the Judge.

Frank shifted slightly as Judge Nicholls looked at Polland, then to Evelyn, then to Frank before he turned glanced at the notes spread out in front of him.

“While the state of Florida gives difference to nomination by natural parent, I'm inclined to side with Mr. Cullen’s laptop at this time.” he said, nodding at Cullen, effectively dismissing the affidavit. Frank allowed himself a relieved smile as Greg nodded.

“Thank you, your Honor”

Frank walked his mother to her car, as she told him about his step father Walter. Frank had found it odd how he wasn’t featuring in any of this, but his question was answered as Evelyn told him he had bought a ranch in Montana.

“Bullshit.” he exclaimed as they strode down the path in the sun, his suit jacket handing over his arm.

“Exactly. A man whose idea of roughing it is being too far from the ice machine at the Ritz Carlton now owns a 1000 acres of grass and dung.”

“Walter Price is a cowboy.” Frank smiled, shaking his head.

“Walter Price who puts on a Brooke’s brother suit to take out the garbage now has a cowboy hat and cowboy boots and a horse that doesn’t know dressage.” Evelyn shook her head.

“Is there some logical reason for this?” Frank asked making a mental note to tell Fliss.

“Midlife crisis, apparently.”

“He’s 70.” Frank scoffed

“I know. Must have been on time delay or something. I guess I should be happy it wasn’t 25 year old cocktail waitress. But then again an affair you can explain to friends in a minute. For this, you put on a pot of coffee.”

“And he’s out there right now?”

“Yessiree!” Evelyn imitated a Western accent.

Frank lost himself for a moment as he and his mother joked, mocking exactly what his Step Father would look like. He hated to admit it, but at times like this he was reminded how similar he was to his mother. Same dry sense of humour, no nonsense nature…

“The fastest asset management in the West.” he snorted and Evelyn smiled.

“The man who shot Liberty Mutual. That’s what I’ve been calling him” she said as they stopped at her car.

“That’s really, really funny.” Frank said, and then sighed as she opened the car door. He leaned down and spoke to the driver  “Take her to the airport.” he said, straightening up. “Go home, Evelyn. Or Montana. Rustle some cattle.” he said gently.

“You know I have no desire to hurt you. I hate it that we’re at odds.” she said as she say in the car, looking at him through the open window.

And then, he was also reminded just how different they were too.

“We’re always at odds.” he shrugged.

“Yes.” She said, almost sadly before she spoke and issued an instructions to her driver, which Frank also realised as a direct defiance aimed at him “Hotel.” 

**** As anticipated, when Frank broke the news to Mary about her father she had a meltdown. What hadn’t anticioated was her locking herself in the bathroom and no amount of coaxing from him or Roberta managed to draw her out. She was crying her little heart out, sobbing about how her dad didn’t want her…and just before he kicked the door in he had a stroke of inspiration,  pulling out his phone to call in reinforcement.

It arrived in the shape of Fliss some 20 minutes later.

“I still can’t believe that wank stain was even given the time of day.” she seethed as Frank greeted her as she strode in the door.

“Well his claim was thrown out but…”Frank nodded to where Roberta was stood outside locked bathroom door.

“Why you had to tell her that asshole was testifying I’ve no idea.” the woman shot him a look.

“Because it’s the truth. And if I didn’t, Evelyn would’ve.” Frank reasoned.

“If I was the dad of a little girl and I never saw her… and I was in the same town… I would visit her.” Fliss heard Mary’s crying and Frank saw her face scrunch up in sympathy. “He didn’t even need directions. He could’ve followed you here.”

“Ok, Roberta, move…” Fliss said gently. Roberta stood to the side and Fliss spoked to the door. “Mary…honey, it’s me.”

“Lissy?” Mary sniffled.

“The one and only.” Fliss smiled, before she sighed “You know what, you’re right. He could have come to see you. But he didn’t. And that’s nothing to do with you.”

“He doesn’t even wanna see what I look like.” The girl sobbed again.

“I never met my dad either…” Fliss said gently “He abandoned my mum before I was born, and then he was killed when I was 4 months old. But before that he never made any attempt to see me. He died without ever seeing my face. And you know what?”

“What?” Mary sniffed.

“That’s his loss, just like it’s your…father’s loss, and I hate to use that word because he’s not really got any right to be called that.”

Mary said nothing, but Frank could hear her sniffling still.

“But then my mom met Bill when I was two, and he’s been my dad ever since. He looked after me and loved me, just like Frank does for you.” Fliss glanced at him and he dropped his hand from where it had been cupping his chin, folding his arms round his chest as he shot her a small smile. “Like we all do Mary, you’re so loved. By Frank, Roberta…me…” Fliss continued, “Now come on, open the door.”

There was a pause and they heard a rustle, before the lock on the door clicked and it opened. Mary stood in the doorway, her eyes red and wet from tears before she gave another sob and threw herself at Fliss. Fliss crouched down on one knee and held her back, gently rocking her and Frank felt his chest tighten at the display of affection.

And then he had an idea.

Fliss watched him as he crouched next to them, his hand gently reaching out to brush Mary’s hair back as she turned her head which was on Fliss’ shoulder to look at him.

“Put your shoes on. We're going for a ride.” he said to her softly. Then he turned to Fliss “You too that is if you want to.”

“Sure.” she nodded.

“Roberta?” Frank looked at her, and she shook her head.

“Your truck only got 3 seats.” “We can take mine.” Fliss offered as Mary gently released her.

“No, I think you two got this.” she said, smiling.

*******

“What are we doing here?” Mary asked as they sat on the seats in the waiting room and Fliss found herself wondering the same thing. She hadn’t questioned Frank, he obviously had something up his sleeve.

“Waiting.”

“We can see that.” Fliss said, and he looked at her,rolling his eyes as Mary continued.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” he said, returning to the National Geographic magazine he was flicking through.

“How long do we have to stay here?”

“As long as it takes. And keep your voice down. It’s a hospital.” Frank said.

As long as it takes turned out to be an hour and a half. Through which time Mary had groaned, moaned, used Frank’s legs as a climbing frame, which Fliss noticed he had expertly ignored simply slouching in his seat, legs apart as Mary draped herself over them. Eventually she had curled up next to Fliss and laid her head on her lap, dozing off.

Fliss was busy reading something on her emails when she heard a bit of a commotion and the group at the other side of the waiting room all stood up. Frank’s eyes flew to them and then he gently gave Fliss a smile before he nudged Mary awake.

She blinked and watched as a man walked into the waiting room dressed in scrubs, a huge smile on his face.

“It’s a boy.” he announced and the group erupted into cheers. Fliss glanced down at Mary who was watching in awe as everyone started to congratulate the man, all crying, sobbing with happiness, cheering, praising the lord.

“That's exactly how it was when you were born.” Frank said softly and Fliss then understood. He was showing Mary that she was loved, that she was wanted.

“This happy?” Mary asked

“This happy.” Frank confirmed.

“Who came out and told everybody?” she asked, and Frank leaned over gently brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I did.” he said softly.

The emotion of the moment got to Fliss and her eyes watered. Frank raised his head and they shared a look as he smiled and she smiled back before Mary piped up.

“Can we stay for another?”

Frank smiled and Mary jumped up, heading over to the group. They all smiled at her as she was swept into their celebrations. Fliss reached over and gently took Frank’s hand, giving his fingers a squeeze, a gesture he returned until Mary came back and pulled Fliss over to the group with her. Frank leaned back and watched as Fliss simply smiled and wiped her eyes as she congratulated the family and he let out a sigh, swallowing slightly, lost in his thoughts.

Eventually the family all dispersed to go and see their new arrival and he told Mary that it was too late to stay for another. She fell asleep on the way home against Fliss and when they got back t was a careful manoeuvre between them both to get her out of the car without waking her up. He gently placed her in bed before he walked Fliss down to her jeep.

“Thank you.” he said to her gently “You were amazing before…you’re just…amazing.” he said, trailing off.

She blushed slightly and tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I mean it Lissy…” he said, “You…I dunno.”

He hesitated for a second before he reached out and gently placed his hand on her hip, pulling her softly towards him

“Frank…” she said softly as his face dropped towards hers, her hands gently on his chest keeping him away from her “Look, I…”

“I know.” he swallowed, his head dropping as he sighed at her rejection “You don’t have to explain.”

“It’s not even 2 weeks ago you were in bed with another woman.” she said gently and he grimaced, pulling away slightly.

“I know and I really wish that hadn’t happened” he sighed, the hand that had been on her hip moved and ran through his hair “There’s really nothing going on between me and Bonnie…it was just a one night. My head was fucked and…”

“How do I know it isn’t now?”  Fliss looked at him “How do I, or you for that matter, know that this…” she gestured between them with her hand “…isn’t just an emotional response to what’s going on as well?”

“Because it’s not.” he said, his eyes not leaving hers as he drove his message home “I care about you Fliss, more than just as friends…and I’m kicking myself now because what I did means you don’t believe me…”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” she said gently, shaking her head as she took deep breath. “And it’s not that I don’t feel the same…”

It’s not that I don’t feel the same At her words a soft smile formed on his face as she continued to talk.

“…but right now, you need to concentrate on Mary…and getting through this week.”

He nodded, swallowing “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“No maybe about it.” she smiled, and reaching up she took his face in her soft hands. “But I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” her eyes locked onto his “And whatever this is…” she gestured between them once more “if it’s right, then it’ll still be there when all this is over.”

She stood on her tip toes to place a gentle kiss to side of his mouth and he leaned down, pressing  his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he swallowed. They stayed like that for a moment until Fliss backed away gently, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” she said softly.

“Tomorrow?” he frowned

“Yeah, the Wicked Witch of The West is testifying is she not?”

Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Yeah she is.” “Like I said, you’re not alone. I might bring a hosepipe,see if she melts. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He chuckled at her joke and watched her climb in her car, waiting until the tail lights had disappeared before he turned and headed inside. Finally all the cards were on the table, and it hadn’t been a rejection, quite the opposite actually.

For the first time in days, Frank slept soundly that night.

@the-omni-princess​​  @momobaby227​​ @geekofmanythings16​​ @angelofhell-666​​ @thewackywriter​​ @marvelfansworld​​​  @cobalt-gear​​  @asgardlover75​​ @jennmurawski13​​​​  @jtargaryen18​​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​​  @navispalace​​​ @patzammit​​​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​​​  @icanfeelastormbrewing​​​ @djeniiscorner​​​  @ayamenimthiriel​​​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​​​  @disneylovingal​​​ @madzmilllz​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​​ @southerngracela​  @goldenfightergir​ @kellymat​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @pagesoflauren​ 

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before XII

Chapter: 12/15

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The following day was spent rather unproductively, Ringo hardly moved from his bed and refused to get dressed into anything decent. Paul and John had left early, they could easily tell when Ringo wanted to left alone, but they ensured that at least one of them would be available should Ringo need anything at all. Last night hardly felt tangible, but the grogginess of Ringo's mind and the overhanging sadness made it difficult to forget. He wasn't entirely sure what he felt so bummed out about: was it merely the pain he felt to see George with another man? Or was it the sheer humiliation Ringo had experienced, having to expose his feelings to George in such an unappealing way? Perhaps it was a mixture of both, but he was determined to only let it sully this single day for tomorrow held endless possibilities and he truly believed that the date with George would still go fairly well, even with all this tension now risen to the surface.

Sometimes it was nice to have days like this, comfortably lounging around in pyjamas with no real objectives in mind. Ringo channelled out any lasting aggression he was harbouring by blasting music on his speakers, just about loud enough to stop himself from thinking. He had more than several comfort films to watch, many of which starred his favourite actor Peter Sellers, to make the time fly by without much thought. Throughout the day he conversed sparsely with John and Paul, neither of them addressing the actual events of last night but their concerned tones were enough of an allusion.

He treated himself to some pizza for dinner, settling down in front of his television and letting the hours pass. These days of nothingness were necessary, especially with the amount of excitement he'd been unwillingly plagued with this past week. Part of him debated not even bothering to get into bed, just to gradually pass into unconsciousness on his sofa, but the mature section of his mind - one which was often ignored - convinced him to tuck himself into the covers and let sleep wash over him.

Ringo gladly slept well into the afternoon, the only thing getting him out of bed was his growling stomach. Reaching for his phone he swiped away a variety of meaningless notifications then paused when he noticed a text from George. His mixed feelings were considerably less tangled than they had been previously, but there was still a hint of dread in his stomach when he thought about him.

Look outside your door.

It was sent a couple of hours ago, Ringo worried he'd missed whatever surprise had been waiting for him. He didn't appreciate the cryptic tone, nonetheless he padded over to the front of his flat and cautiously opened the door. Sitting before him was a vase sporting a diverse bouquet of flowers, Ringo wasn't even sure he could name half of them. He looked at it for a while, registering how to fit this in with his torn attitude towards George, and noticed a small card perked upon one of the leaves; he picked it up and inspected it closely.

First of many treats I have planned for tonight. I hope your hangover isn't too bad and you aren't regretting giving me another chance.

Ringo found himself smiling, he must have looked rather odd standing in nothing but his boxers and socks clutching onto this card for longer than he needed to. The thought of one of his neighbours seeing him in this precarious situation spurred him to take the vase inside and shut the door behind him, he inhaled the fresh smell deeply as he brought them into the kitchen to find an adequate placement. He couldn't deny how beautiful they looked, as much as his pessimism wanted to convince him that this was merely a disingenuous ploy. It was difficult to hold onto the resentment, Ringo found himself leaning more towards the attitude that it was merely an extremely unfortunate situation and that George had never intended on hurting him. What use was there in holding onto the past?

Drinking his morning cup of tea, Ringo stared at the flowers before he realised he should probably respond to George's text.

sorry i only just woke up the flowers are gorgeous thank you so much

You're welcome It's the least I can do really There's plenty more where that came from

flowers or surprises??

Both Just you wait

havent got much a choice have i?

I can pick up you around 7 Does that work for you?

it sure does

Ringo debated whether to send another text, he really wanted to clear the air completely but wondered whether it would be better to do it in person. The last thing he wanted was for the whole night to feel like George was having to make it up to him, rather than it being an enjoyable night for the both of them. He understood George's guilt completely, but it would no doubt make him feel rather ridiculous with the forced nature of it all. If only things could just go back to normal, was that too much to ask? He let out a sigh, drafting out a message and staring at it for a while.

i dont want this to come across as harsh or ungrateful or anything but could we leave out any conversation about last night?? i just want to have a good time and not think about that stupid stuff

Impulsively, Ringo sent it without much further thought. He knew it wasn't the most coherent or effective way of getting across his jumbled thought process but the last thing he needed was even more stress seeping into today.

Last night? What happened last night? I was at home didn't step outside for a second

you're right how silly of me must have you confused for someone else

Ringo felt relief washing over him, a grin spreading across his face as he continued to stare at the message from George. Perhaps tonight wouldn't be as stressful as he'd originally anticipated, he'd almost forgotten how at ease George was able to make him feel.

Now arrived the age old dilemma: what on Earth was he meant to wear? He probably should've asked how upscale the place was that George had picked out for them, he didn't want to risk dressing up too much and looking like a fool. Not that Ringo had a great array of formal clothes to choose from, he wasn't one to frequent snobbish establishments if he could help it. He emptied out almost his entire wardrobe, tossing clothes behind him into barely distinguishable piles like he was starring in a teen movie. It took far longer than necessary to narrow down his choices, eventually settling on a navy jumper and some dark trousers. Looking at himself in the mirror he realised there was no way this outfit reflected the amount of time he'd spent choosing it, but the last thing Ringo was about to do was spend more time agonising over something that no doubt didn't matter much at all.

His stomach started rumbling while he waited for George to arrive, he only hoped the food would be appealing. Ringo had a reputation for being a picky eater, not that he could necessarily help it with his endless list of allergies. He found himself worrying that wherever they went Ringo wouldn't be able to eat anything and it would spiral the entire date into disaster. Exactly where this paranoia came from he didn't know, he only hoped it would disappear as soon as he laid eyes on George.

When the long-awaited text finally arrived, Ringo grabbed his jacket and hurried down the stairs. If he didn't eat soon he felt like he was going to pass out, he knew that wasn't truly the case but he couldn't deny that it felt that way. George beamed at him through the glass window, Ringo reciprocated the grin without it feeling even the slightest bit forced. Everything felt normal, thank goodness.

"Don't you look dashing?" George spoke first, a playful tone in his voice.

"Why thank you." Ringo stepped out of the building "I wasn't quite sure what to wear, if I'm being honest."

George was sporting a dark green turtleneck, on top of which he wore a black chequered blazer with trousers to match. It was the most dressed up Ringo had ever seen him, and it was a pleasant sight to say the least.

"Well you look great." George reassured him "Now, I'm absolutely starving so let's get a move on."

They slid into George's car, Ringo felt a little strange to not be the one doing the driving. As they began pulling out onto the main road, Ringo felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Trying to be polite, he decided to ignore it, it was likely only Paul or John wishing him good luck on his date. Neither of them spoke much as they drove, they'd have plenty of time to talk once they got to the restaurant. George hummed to himself rather quietly, Ringo wasn't sure he was even aware he was doing it. After several minutes, George's hand gradually moved away from the steering wheel and onto Ringo's thigh; he never turned to look at him, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. Experimentally he began rubbing his thumb on the fabric of Ringo's trousers, it was a sweet gesture that Ringo appreciated. Ringo gathered the courage to press it one step further, sliding his own hand underneath and interlocking their fingers together. Once again George didn't turn, but a small smile spread on his face. Ringo wasn't sure this was exactly the safest way to drive, but it helped relax his nerves a little.

Not too much time had passed before they'd arrived at their destination, a rather small building with a cosy looking interior. George turned the ignition off but neither of them made any further movements, sat firmly in their seats with their hands still clasped together. The muffled sound of the bustling city outside the car overpowered any potential awkward silence, Ringo was afraid to move lest he ruined the moment.

"You ready to go inside?" George asked, his voice far quieter than necessary, finally turning to face Ringo.

Ringo nodded, hopefully managing to hide his disappointment as George's hand slipped away. They both stepped outside of the car and made their way towards the restaurant, it was pretty packed but fortunately George had booked a table for the both of them. Anxiety began to creep into Ringo's mind as they were guided to their seats, he hadn't been on a proper date like this for so long, he felt like he'd forgotten how to make regular conversation. Yet sitting down across from George made all those worries disappear, all he needed was the smallest amount of eye contact and he felt safe once again.

"You like wine?" George asked, perusing the drinks menu.

"I can't lie, I'm not a fan." Ringo didn't want to risk sounding rude.

"How about a cocktail or something? Just don't look at the prices." George chuckled "Whatever you want, my treat."

"I'd love a Sex on the Beach, if you're offering." Ringo said rather sheepishly.

"Last time I checked Liverpool didn't have any beaches." George feigned a quizzical expression "I think I'll have one too."

The drinks didn't take too long to arrive, Ringo felt relieved to get some alcohol in his body to help him relax. Although he was determined to not get too drunk tonight, it was about time he experienced George's company sober. The atmosphere of the restaurant was nice, rather homely, far less intimidating than the grand vision Ringo had conjured during one of his bouts of paranoia.

Everything just felt right, there was nowhere else he'd rather be or anyone else he'd rather be with. The gleam in George's eyes and the faint smile always barely hidden on his lips let Ringo know that he was feeling the exact same way.

[joontier]

Read or Ride

—> Pairing: namjoon x female reader

—> Genre/warnings: crack basically, joon tryna fite a baby, sMUTTY SMUT SMUT - oral (m and f receiving), riding

—> Words: 5.4k

—> Summary: Unknowingly dissing a novel right in front of its author? We’ll see how that ends.

—> A/N: Comeback is real loves

There's something about airports that Namjoon loves - a satisfactory sensory experience: whether it be the wheels rolling against the shiny tiled floors; children playing along the moving walkways, pretending to be Michael Jackson and doing moonwalks; the sound of getting your passports stamped; or the boarding tickets getting ripped.

But, there's one thing rising author Kim Namjoon distinctively enjoys. People-watching.

Not in a creepy way, of course. Namjoon loves the range of emotions attached to airports and how he witnesses all these first-hand. There are anticipation and excitement from those who were traveling for leisure, sadness from those who have to leave their families temporarily, indifference from people who have to travel for business. For Namjoon, airports are easily on top of the list when it comes to public places, despite having to pay an excessive amount for a bottle of water or a bland donut.

Namjoon takes delight in observing humanity, to say the least. It's what constantly inspires him to write and inspire other people in return. The tall twenty-four-year-old just passed the immigration area and is on his way to the boarding gate to sit down and enjoy the overpriced coffee he bought moments earlier. He doesn't want to brag about finally making it big, but when a lady asked for a picture taken with him and asked him to sign on a piece of paper, he couldn't help the subsequent spring in his step when he continues towards his destination. Namjoon takes a mental note to tell this later to his mother who has a google notification alert set for her son's name.

Only a few people are lounging in the boarding area when Namjoon arrives and looks for a seat near a socket where he can charge his phone. You look up from your seat as he approaches and Namjoon gives you a small smile as he takes one across yours. Moments later, after Namjoon sends a message to both his mother and agent informing them of his soon departure, he notices you pull out a book from your carry-on, the all-too-familiar white cover catching his attention.

Namjoon tries not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation but also attempts not to pump too much air into his head with the photo op earlier and now having to watch someone read his book. He must've hit it big this time, as his third novel has finally reached the New York Times Best Seller List, despite originally having it published halfway across the world and in another language.

Your eyes scan the book's summary at the back and Namjoon feels like he's been punched in the gut as he doesn't miss the way your nose scrunch after going through the short passage. That's a first. The author tries to divert his attention by scrolling mindlessly across social media but still secretly gauging your reaction as you finally start reading the book. He takes a look at his surroundings, enjoying his watching of the never-ending arrival of planes and putting his peripheral vision to the test as he observes your reaction from time to time.

He's thankful that you're focused on reading the book because minutes after looking forward to your facial feedback, he realized he's harboring quite the crush on you. Pretty quick and unusual for a stranger and even more in a public place full of it, but Namjoon claims you're close, if not completely, to his type.

You've gone for an autumn-inspired look, sporting a white sweater, white-washed ripped jeans, oxfords, and a cashmere caramel coat draped over your knees. Not to mention the gold-rimmed glasses perched on your nose, giving off an incredibly homey feel. The way your hair falls from your shoulders as you dropped something or the way you push the bridge of your glasses up also doesn't go amiss. He just finds everything you do endearing, and it takes him all his patience and self-control to not walk over to your seat and introduce himself.

It's been a while since he's been in a relationship, his harshest breakup the inspiration for his first novel. He's tried to go on blind dates set up by his friends, mostly Seokjin, but none of them felt right. Namjoon wasn't sure if it was simply bad timing, or he's gone through a phase of enjoying his freedom from a toxic past.

Namjoon's outright staring is momentarily interrupted when you stand up all of a sudden, placing a random receipt you grabbed from your bag and using it as a bookmark. He takes a look around and sees people forming a queue near the gates, thankful that you hadn't noticed his more than inappropriate staring.

Since a small plane will be accommodating your four-hour flight, the airline staff tells everyone to queue by seat order, calling those seated in the far end of the plane to get in first. There are a few people between where you and Namjoon stand, and Namjoon can't help but hold on to the small sliver of hope that you two will be seated next to each other.

The staff then proceeds to call on those who occupy the mid-section of the plane, and excitement bubbles inside Namjoon as you both move forward in the queue, passing those who were still waiting to be called. The rest of the jet bridge is quiet save the rolling of suitcases' wheels against the plastic flooring and Namjoon's steadily increasing heartbeat. Namjoon was usually suave when it comes to interaction with the opposite sex but God, where is all this high-schooler shit coming from?

He searches for his own seat, chanting the alphanumeric characters in his head like a mantra. Namjoon nearly bumps into you as you stop by the twenty-sixth row, lifting up your carry-on towards the cabin. He would've offered a hand with that but Namjoon's brain was too busy with the fact that you were going to be seated next to him. Almost. Well, you were seated next to the window and Namjoon was next to the aisle, and God forbid someone to take the seat in between.

A couple of minutes more pass and the head flight attendant announces that the plane is doing its final ground checks and will be departing soon. Admittedly, Namjoon absolutely adores airports, but the flight itself? Not so much. He despises the way his stomach lurches during take-off and landing, and can't help imagining that one of the plane's engines will give out, crash head-first in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and if he surprisingly lives, he'd go all-out survival mode on an uncharted island with the minimal knowledge he'd gotten from watching survival documentaries on National Geographic.

He's elated when he figures no one's seated between you, but that fact wasn't enough to calm his nerves as the engines finally roar into life. A part of him curses the person supposed to be seated between you for not showing up, so now you'd have to witness him shaking more vigorously than a rattlesnake's tail.

Namjoon completely misses out on the aircraft's safety regulations, shifting endlessly in his seat and as the plane finally reaches the runway, you can't help but ask him if he's okay. Initially, he's pleasantly surprised by your voice, how it's equally angelic as your face, but the nagging voice at the back of his head overthrows yours and it takes him a few seconds to register that you're trying to talk to him.

"Me? I, uh, yeah," he stammers out, completely at a loss of words. "Sorry, flying isn't just my thing," Namjoon chuckles nervously. Your eyes travel to the way he's gripping onto the armrest, knuckles almost turning white with tightness. "Do you want me to hold your hand?" His head snaps up to look at you, and your cheeks instantly flush with heat while the man looks at you dubiously. "I mean, my Nana gets anxious during flights so she holds my hand all throughout the trip..." the last words come out of your mouth in mumbles.

'Great,' Namjoon thinks. Now, the girl he has a crush on, who, by some miracle, happens to sit right next to him, thinks he has the same flight tolerance as a God-knows-how-old granny. Way to go, Kim Namjoon. He's torn between having a deflated ego and a nearing a nervous breakdown and decides that having to deal with the latter would be easier, considering the situation and his options.

"Um...sure," Namjoon finally answers, reaching out his hand for you. You send him a genuine smile as you link your hands with his. He feels worse than a baby traveling for the first time. Just then, he twists his head to look across the aisle, just to see a year-old baby smiling back at him as if to mock him.

‘Wow’, wonders Namjoon, ‘since when were humans too young to be taught about respect?’

Namjoon wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep but when he opens his eyes, it's already been three hours since they departed. It saddens him that your hands were no longer linked together, though he did enjoy the short period that they were. Your hands were so soft and your fingers felt like they had the right size just to fit perfectly into his. Under the disguise of rubbing his nose, pretending that there was a small itch, Namjoon finds himself swiftly inhaling the scent of your hand cream, shea butter, one of his favorites.

If Namjoon felt like a creep earlier, there was nothing compared to what he felt now. He tries to keep his thinking straight again, and as his eyes drift back to the passengers seated across the aisle, he finds a pair of big blue eyes from the baby staring back at him, with the same mocking smile earlier.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at the small human as if taunting him to say something. The blue-eyed baby stares at him back, before sticking his tongue out at the author and bursting into a fit of laughter. The joyful sound caused smiles to etch into the faces of nearby passengers, but to Namjoon, it was the purest form of ridicule he has received for the past twenty-four years of his life.

He opens his mouth to say something intelligible but realizes he's trying to fight with someone nearly a quarter of his height so he closes his mouth and ignores the baby. The pilot announces that you'll be reaching your destination in less than an hour, and Namjoon decides that this was the perfect time to initiate a conversation with you - it was now or never.

The words appear in jumbles in his head, so when he settles on something as safe as "Pretty interesting book you got there," he lets out a long-held exhale of air. You look up from your reading and place the bookmark-receipt on the page where you stopped. Ah, the mark of an avid reader - anything of close proximity can be deemed a bookmark.

"Yeah, recommended and given by a friend. Not into these types of novels though," you answer, lips forming a tight smile. "What's your type then?" Namjoon asks, unsure if he's still on the topic of novels.

"Mystery. Adventure, political or historical, perhaps," comes out your reply, and you tilt your head as if thinking of more. "Romance novels these days... they almost all have the same storyline. Whether they end up together or not."

"So this is a stereotypical novel then?" the latter asks with eyebrows raised.

"Well, I haven't reached the end yet, and I don't really want to prejudice..." she pauses for a moment and turns to book to check the front, "N.J. Kim, whoever he or she is."

Namjoon hopes that you don't skip to the last page of the book to see his face in monochrome and a short paragraph on his journey of being a writer to accompany that. "It's a cute story though, very light mood compared to those I've read recently. A change of atmosphere is appreciated once in a while." While Namjoon wants to convince you that things are about to get heavier in the final chapters and the upcoming sequel despite you being cute and all, but that would've been throwing a year and a half's work straight to the bin.

Before Namjoon decides that it's not his book that he wants to talk about, his bladder starts acting up so he excuses himself for a while and stands up from his seat. His long legs stride down the aisle and he comes face-to-face again with the blue-eyed baby. What has he ever done in his life for little humans to despise him this much?

The year-old boy rests his chin on his mother's shoulder and stares at him, doe eyes adding to the intensity. Then he breaks out into a fit of laughter again causing the mother to turn around and look at the reason. She sends Namjoon a brief smile before heading to the lavatory with her son giving him a two-teethed smile.

When he comes back to his seat ten minutes later, he finds you still reading. Although this time around, he finally builds up enough courage to initiate a proper conversation. That is until you beat him to it. "Quite the line down there yeah?" Namjoon chuckles in agreement, buckling his seatbelt. There's a pregnant pause before you reach out your hand to him for the second time today. You state your name as he returns the gesture, "Namjoon," the author replies along with a dimpled smile.

"So what's your story?" Namjoon inquires, shifting his body so he could lean his elbow on the armrest. "Just taking a break from work...And a friend recommends the place too," comes your reply.

"Ah, the same friend that gave you that book?"

"Yep."

"You seem to trust that friend's judgment."

"Yeah, and now I know not to," you sigh, resting your head against the chair. "Why so?"

"This book is almost like what I expected. The reason I don't delve into romance because ninety percent of it is mostly crap. I enjoy reality. I revel in its authenticity, unlike fabricated ones like these where the female character always seems to come in some form of distress and lacks the confidence to solve her own problems. So here comes Mr. Perfect clad in his knightly armor with two propositions a) he tries to solve all the lady's troubles or b) he'll just add himself to the list and cause more inconvenience."

Namjoon, now sporting a wounded ego, intends to retaliate, but decides on keeping the conversation going rather than defending himself. He lets you rant about previous books you’ve read and your thoughts on it while he tells stories from his travels around the world, smoothly avoiding the reality of him being a writer and you were just criticizing his novel.

--

There's a pang in your chest once you've parted ways with the stranger you've acquainted with. You've never had an interaction with a guy before who listened intently as Namjoon did, not even at work to say the least. You couldn't deny the fact that he was cute either, so having to know just the name of a possible total catch was upsetting.

It's a quick ride to your hotel and when you reach the building, you make sure to take a snap to send to Ariel. Something feels off once the driver hands you your luggage, remembering that your case seemed to be lighter than your own. You don't put much thought to it as you want to take a nap once you get to the room before heading out to the city.

As soon as the receptionist hands you the key card, you do a near sprint towards the closing doors of the elevator, waving your free hand to the passengers. Sleep was about to overcome you, dozing off during the elevator ride and using your luggage as support but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep well when you don't wash up after a long trip.

You fall on your knees once you get to the room, dragging the luggage down with you, too tired to exert any more effort. You put in the combination to the lock with one eye open, resting your back against the bed frame. Your head shoots up when you see 1-2-3 on the wheels and the zipper won't slide open. Shit.

You hadn't bothered changing the default combination when you bought the bag two weeks ago. You hadn't found any other reason to do so anyway. Seeing as no one else could've had changed it during that time, you check the rest of the luggage and inspected if it was truly yours. It seemed like yours from the front, the logo still in its place and a red lining along with the zippers.

When you twist the bag to check the rest of it though, you find out that the blue luggage tag you've attached to the side handle with a label 'DO NOT TOUCH' is nowhere to be seen. A thin laminated card has taken its place instead. It takes you by surprise when the card reads 'N.J. Kim' along with his contact information in case of loss. There was no way you could've been on the same flight as the author of the book you were just reading. Not to mention you didn't have anything good to say about the book too.

You find yourself pressing the numbers on your phone regardless, just wanting to get your first day of vacation hassle-free. It takes a few rings before someone picks up, a male voice saying something in Korean. You weren't that all too familiar with the language, although you remember Ariel watching a drama of some sort and came across the phrase.

"Um, hello?" you answer with crossed fingers, wishing that the person on the other line could speak in English.

"Yes hello. Who is this?" You breathe out a sigh of relief as the guy responds.

"I'm ______ and I'm looking for N.J. Kim. May I speak to him please?"

"Sorry but Mr. Kim isn't available at the moment. Would you like me take a message for him?"

"Yes, please. Could you tell him that I've mistaken his luggage for mine? Perhaps he's taken mine by mistake too?" you pause as you think for a solution to meet halfway "Maybe we could meet up somewhere so I can give this back at once."

The man mumbles something in Korean but judging by the way he spoke, he sounded like he was reprimanding a small kid. "Yes of course. I shall relay your message ASAP. Although I have to remind you that he won't be available until after a few hours. Would you be willing to wait until then, Ms. _____?"

"A few hours?!" you can't hide the risen pitch of your voice and you cough as you echo what he said one more time. "My apologies miss, but Mr. Kim is currently at an event. If this is of utmost importance to you, as his agent, I'd like to personally help you if you are willing to pass by the venue now. It's at a hotel in the heart of the city."

Not wanting to prolong your stress any longer, you respond in the affirmative. The guy, who you later learned to be Seokjin Kim, gave you the address of the book signing event.

- - -

A sudden wave of realization hits you when you see a standee by the hotel’s lobby - one around Namjoon’s height and his dimpled smile, holding the book you were just reading. And criticizing. He looks more of a recording artist than a best-selling author with promotions like these, but the thought of openly complaining about a book in front of its author is eating at your conscience and you feel your legs turning into jelly.

You head towards the function room, remembering that you still have the novel in your bag. God, this is going to haunt you like a terrible nightmare. You notice some girls standing a few meters away from the doors and you hear them giggling and talking about Namjoon. It doesn’t surprise you though, knowing for a fact that your seatmate on the plane could easily pass for a celebrity.

The guards let you in when they see your book and as you enter there is an elevated platform with Namjoon seated with a while interacting with his fans while signing the books. A crowd of nearly all girls are seated facing the platform, few are taking pictures and some are cheering him on, occasionally asking him questions while he continues to sign the novels.

You continue to watch the whole scenario, not noticing someone walk to your side. “You must be _____,” he asks. “Seokjin Kim.” Introducing himself as his agent, he leads you to a waiting room behind the stage and asks you to wait as the event is about to end.

Thirty minutes and an awful lot of screaming later, Namjoon enters the room and for a moment you’re taken aback by his presence. He has his hair styled up this time, dressed up in clothes that fit his size more compared to what he looked like a few hours ago at the airport. Not that he looked any less cuter though.

You’re thankful you taken a seat on a couch on the other side of the room openly ogling him. He hasn’t noticed you yet, picking up a few personal things near the vanity mirror. “Hyung, you should’ve seen the girl I sat next to at the plane! She was... fuck. I can’t get her off my-“ Namjoon spins just enough to see you there, visibly swallowing when he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“So you’ve met Ms._______,” Seokjin states as he re-enters the room. Namjoon remains speechless as you answer for him “I’m the girl he sat next to on the plane.” You don’t know how you’ve managed to gather up the confidence to say that, but the smirk playing on Seokjin’s lips is not helping.

“Well done, hyung. Well done,” someone claps from behind Namjoon, checking you out in the most obvious way possible. He waves at you, introducing himself as Jimin and cousin of Namjoon. He extends a hand his hand out for a shake, sending you a wink when you return the greeting.

Jimin, the blonde-haired adonis, reaches something from the pocket of his jeans and slaps it on Namjoon’s chest. You see a hotel key card, and the all-too-recognizable aluminum packet of a condom behind it. “Your luggages are in the room,” Jimin informs, sending a wink to Namjoon this time.

Face paling quickly, Namjoon coughs and quietly asks you to follow him, not meeting your eyes. The elevator doors open, Namjoon walks in first with you following closely behind. Sadly, you didn’t notice the gap between the doors and you trip, landing face flat on Namjoon’s chest which was firmer than your will to live at that moment. You’re sure your face has gone through all shades of red now, the rest of the elevator ride unbearable.

“This is going to be awkward, but, I- um...I’d like to apologize for what I’ve said back at the plane...about your book...” You cringe at your words, a very vivid memory of you ranting now etched permanently inside your brain.

"How about I prove you wrong about my novels?"

He drags his finger along the edge of the lamp by the corner, absentmindedly feeling the smooth surface and not wanting to meet your eyes.  When he turns to look at you though, it takes three seconds to register that your lips are finally on his, your mouth firmly pressing against Namjoon's.

It's just as soft as he imagined, the cherry taste of your lip balm leaving him wanting for more as you suddenly pull away. "You have no idea much I've imagined--" Namjoon starts to speak but you place a finger on his lips to shush the man. "Shut up and kiss me already."

His hand finds its way to your neck, while the other supports his weight as he gently pushes you to the wall. Once more, your lips meet together and a shiver runs down Namjoon's spine, sending charges throughout his whole body, especially down south. Namjoon leaves your lips for your cheek, then your jawline and he's thankful that you look up in bliss, giving him more access to your throat.

Slender fingers travel to the hem of your sweater, lifting it a little so his fingertips dance their way onto the expanse of your skin under your clothing. You push yourself off the wall to take off the ridiculous amount of clothing you still have on while Namjoon forcibly opens his button-down shirt, the sound of buttons falling muted against the carpeted floor.

Namjoon curses under his breath when your hand brushes by the erection straining against his jeans. It's almost embarrassing for him to get hard so quickly this time, but no one could've blamed him when a pretty girl was already on her knees ready to suck him off. Namjoon feels the room temperature rising by the second, beads of sweat slowly glistening his forehead. When his cock finally springs free from the confines of his boxers, you grab his length, tentatively swiping your thumb across the slit, a string of pre-cum glazing your finger.

Kim Namjoon is definitely blessed.

He lets out a hiss when you bring your lips to his cock, letting the tip of your tongue trace the singular vein popping from his length. Namjoon isn’t sure which is hotter - your mouth on his cock or the visual you’re generously providing him with.

“Fuck, enough of that.” He guides you up, supporting you by the waist. Namjoon then pushes you down to lay on the bed, hair splayed all over the pillows and your torso hitting the soft bedding. He captures your lips in an eager yet playful kiss while his hands travel along the length of your body.

He growls into the kiss, one hand reaching down to open your thighs. As Namjoon’s cock brushes against your clothed cunt, you helplessly lift your hips to grind against his, desperate for some friction. “Not so fast, baby girl,” Namjoon whispers against your skin, nipping lightly at the shell of your ear.

“Joonie please,” you whimper, his cock twitching at the sound. Pulling down your bra to expose your breasts, Namjoon’s featherlight touches around the area hardens your nipples in an instant and he brings his lips to the hardened nub then blowing cool air against it as he does the same with the other.

Having enough of the man’s teasing, you plan on giving him a taste of his own medicine when your hands travel slowly to his length. Namjoon notices the motion of your hands though, taking both your hands with one hand and pinning them above your head. He then proceeds to revel in the smoothness of your skin until he reaches your thighs and looks up at you, sending you a flirty wink.

Kim Namjoon will be the death of you and you’re sure as hell enjoying every second of it.

He moves closer, nose expertly brushing against your covered clit. You shiver at the feeling, and the moment Namjoon pushes your panties to the side and flattens his tongue against your folds, you instantly let out a cry of pleasure. He wastes no time taking off your underwear for you, feeling and seeing your excitement at par with his. Namjoon continues with his torture, licking his lips when he finally sees your folds glistening, sweet and ready to be divulged. His skilled tongue circles your clit and then slides into your clenching hole to get a taste. You whine, hands tugging at his hair at his ministrations. You almost lose it when his tongue meets your clit again, this time sucking on the bud. You wriggle your hips, trying to free yourself but Namjoon pins you down with strong hands, licking and sucking at the nub.

“I-I’m so... so close,” you moan, breathless when Namjoon suddenly pulls away. Your head snaps up and you stare at him incredulously. “You know, I’d love watching you come apart with my tongue, but I’d rather have you cum on my cock,” he rasps out, manhandling you so that you’re seated on his lap in one swift motion.

"Ride me," Namjoon's voice drops to a whisper, his mind clouding as he feels your center pressing against his cock. You notice him hesitate for a moment, staring at his discarded jeans on the floor, remembering the condom Jimin handed him together with the key card. “I’m clean and on the pill.” You reassure him, getting a soft ‘fuck’ in return. You lower down to let his cock grind against your entrance, the divine feeling making you both shudder and moan. If he already feels like this even before he's inside you, your mind couldn't possibly cope with what could happen moments later.

Once you're positive that you've already coated his length with more than a generous amount of your slick, you give him a quick kiss before pushing him further towards the headboard. Slowly, you sink down onto him, the breach making you gasp out in pleasure. Your eyes close for a moment as he finally reaches the hilt, letting yourself get used to the feeling of him stretching you out.

Subconsciously squeezing around him, Namjoon lets out a broken moan, his line of vision focusing on where both of you are joined as one. You start rocking your hips slowly, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. "Is this okay?" you ask him, his silence causing you the slightest hint of worry. "Yes, oh-" he responds, heaving a sigh when you squeeze yourself around him, the previously articulate man now at a loss for words.

“Shit, if you keep doing that...” Namjoon rasps, hands on your waist tightening when you clench around him again, purposely this time. “Like this?” you confirm, enjoying his reactions. You continue moving your hips, forward then back, reveling in the feeling of his cock a snug fit inside you. Unfortunately, after letting your gym membership crumble to dust, your stamina is not cut out for reaching your highs like this. Namjoon notices your movements stutter, and starts snapping his hips up to help you.

God, he’s reaching in too deep like this and you don’t think you’re going to last that long like this. Slowly, you feel that familiar pressure building up inside you, eyes rolling to the back of your head. When Namjoon’s thumb finds your clit, it finally hits you so strongly that your body bows towards his, hands resting on his chest for support.

Namjoon, desperate for his own release as well, switches your position one more time. “How are you so tight?” He mutters to himself, face hovering above yours as he supports himself on his elbows, snapping his hips as he gets lost in the feeling of having your walls clench around him. “One more time for me, baby.” You’ve come to adore the pet name he’s given you, but when he said that with a particularly strong thrust, your muscles contracting once more.

Namjoon’s hips stutter, and while you mewl against his chest for the overstimulation, he lets out a deep grunt as he reaches his climax, using your pussy to get off. You reach your high again one more time, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life. He’s still breathing hard while he slips out of you, planting a kiss on your cheek as he heads to the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he returns, he finds you’ve turned to lie on your side, already snoring softly.

‘Guess who fell asleep now?’ He chuckles to himself, proceeding to carefully wipe the remnants of your intimacy on your thighs.

[summerbreezeyy]

Love, Huh? - Chapter 6

Finally today arrived. The day you were meeting Yixing. After the dinner with the Oh’s, you texted him you were free the next day, but he had to be in China for a family wedding for a week. You met Yixing back when your ex was finding businesses to invest in, and his club was one of them. You didn’t instantly become friends with him, other than the fact that your ex was super jealous, Yixing was kinda scary at first. He had this intimidating aura, even your ex agreed. But you got closer. In secret though.

For the past week, the boys have barely left you alone. They would try to arrange their schedule so at least one of them would be home. You know they have many friends, especially Chanyeol. Even Kyungsoo has his routine hangouts with his group. And Sehun who likes to drink outside. But lately they’ve just been at home a lot. You overheard Chanyeol couple days ago talking to his friend, “Sorry babe, a bit busy tonight, the comeback is near. But I’ll see you next week at the show okay?” or when you unintentionally and accidentally saw a text message on Kyungsoo’s phone from ‘Kwangsoo-hyung’ that read “We miss you Soo-ya. Hope you can come next time!” when both of them (plus the youngest) were schedule-less and spent the whole night at home drinking with Sehun’s newly bought whiskey.

When all of them had to leave altogether one day, they called and texted you (or facetime at the clingy maknae’s case) all day. You wanted to tell them that you were okay, and to be alone for a couple of hours is totally manageable. But you didn’t, knowing that they still felt guilty (when they shouldn’t have) they couldn’t be there when you needed them. So you let them, do things that would ease their minds.

You told them about your plan today, since they had to finish everything up for their next week’s comeback. Like expected, when you were getting ready to meet Yixing, you checked your phone to find a lot of texts already came in the group chat, the one they already had before they added you in.

Yeollie [10:16] :

Hey @you awake yet?

Se [11:03] :

Sleepyhead wake up

You [12:24] :

Sorry just checked my phone. Been awake since 10 you ass @Se

Almost ready to head out tho, leaving in about 15 minutes. So excitedd!

When are you guys coming home tonight? I was thinking of Ramyeon night?

Kyungsoo [12:26] :

We should be home at around 8 or 9 I think. Don’t wait for us to have dinner. Chanyeol would pick a movie for tonight, but if you’re tired you can go to sleep early. Have fun with your friend and be careful.

Yeollie [12:26] :

At 8!

Oh Soo answered that already lol :p

Have fun we miss youuu!

Wait I thought you were meeting him at 1?

Se [12:27] :

My ass is great, you just jealous

You [12:27] :

*you’re

@Yeollie always the sweetest! I miss you guys too! And this morning when Xing told me the address, turned out the café is just a couple blocks away, so I’m walking there!

@Kyungsoo yes sir!

Se [12:27] :

Hmm.. Kinky

You [12:27] :

Shut up, you’re the only kinky ass in this gc fool, my eyes are still suffering from what I saw

Se [12:28] :

…

Okay I’m shutting up

Yeollie [12:29] :

Ohh! Tell me! I wanna know!

You [12:29] :

If Sehun continued being a brat I would happily tell you :)

Kyungsoo [12:29] :

Back to actually important thing, you’re gonna walk there? Can’t he pick you up or just take a cab instead. It’s safer.

You [12:30] :

I think I could walk just fine, Soo. No need to be paranoid. I’m not dying or anything. Gonna keep annoying your asses for a long time so count on it!

Se [12:31] :

You’ve been saying ‘ass’ waaay too many times today. Didn’t know you’re an ass-kinda girl

You [12:31] :

Sehun, I’m thiiis close to type in what I saw 3 christmas ago in your room when both your hyungs were visiting their parents

By the way, aren’t you guys supposed to be working now?

Get off of your phones! If they fired you and you’re jobless who’s gonna feed me :(

Yeollie [12:32] :

I’m lunching and Soo’s at makeup and Sehun is messing around like usual, we’ll keep our job just fine and you’re gonna be eating good food for the rest of our life!

Oh and by the way, we’re watching Captain America tonight ! But like Soo said, if you’re tired you could just go to sleep!

And please Sehun, keep being annoying. I can’t wait for when she’s fed up with you and finally tell us your kinks.

Se [12:32] :

Yes mommy

@Yeollie interested much ???

You [12:32] :

Ooh, I see, another kink. I’ll keep that in mind, baby ;)

By the way @Yeollie I still find it weird you’re Team Cap but ordered Iron Man costume instead. And don’t worry. I can sense it’s close to when I finally do :)

But not complaining about the movie tho, I got to stare at Chris Evans’ face (and abs and arms) for 2 hours, I don’t even think I’m gonna be sleepy.

Se [12:33] :

Why are you only mean to me :(

He’s weird that’s why! Everyone who’s Team Cap is weird!

You [12:33] :

Faulty logic. You’re Team Iron Man but still the weirdest out of all of us

Yeollie [12:33]:

*online high-five*

And Team Cap rocks!

You [12:33] :

Preach!

Se [12:34] :

@Kyungsoo hyuuung help me they’re bullying me :(

Kyungsoo [12:34] :

Oh I didn’t tell you? I’m also Team Cap.

Se [12:34] :

HYUNG! HOW COULD YOU?

You [12:34] :

Should we change this gc name to ‘Cap’s bitches’?

[12:35] Yeollie changed group name to “Cap’s Bitches”

Se [12:35] :

HYUNG SERIOUSLY!

Kyungsoo [12:35] :

Jesus

At this point you were laughing close to tears. You continued eating your lunch, a text came in, from Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo [12:37] :

Hey you had lunch yet?

You [12:37] :

Eating rn!

Kyungsoo [12:37] :

Good. Don’t forget your meds too

You [12:37] :

Yes daddy

Kyungsoo almost choked on his drink, that his makeup noona looked at him weird.

“Funny pic,” he half-assedly explained.

You [12:37] :

Wait that came out weird

Sorry lol

Kyungsoo [12:38] :

You should thank God this is not the gc

You [12:38] :

Sehun won’t let it go I know :)

Hell I think Chanyeol would also tease me about it

By the way I’m gonna head out shortly

Have a fun day at work! See you tonight! xx

Kyungsoo [12:39] :

See you, and be safe.

Leaving Kyungsoo and the group chat (that was just filled with Sehun’s whining at this point) on read, you finished your dishes and went back to your room to grab your bag. Picking up the phone you left on the counter, you saw the last messages on the group chat.

Se [12:44] :

I hate everyone

[12:45] Se changed group name to “im leaving the band”

A laugh came out from you. Finally things were starting to be normal again. Except of course the constant nagging and worries from them. But you found yourself liking it, that they care about you. And of course, it did feel nice to bicker with Sehun after so long.

“I miss your bratty ass,” you smiled mumbling to no one.

When you were checking out the chat, someone rang the doorbell. Weird, no one was supposed to come over.

You [12:45] :

Hey anyone expecting someone today?

I thought the cleaner was supposed to come tomorrow?

After the quick texts, they didn’t answer and the bell rung again. So you took a look at the peephole, and found the person you didn’t expect standing in front of the door.

“BAEKHYUN!” you exclaimed.

“GIRLIE I MISSED YOU!” he then proceeded to hug you.

“What are you doing here?!”

Baekhyun let you go before answering, “Your boyfriends told me you needed company today!”

Ah, of course. The boys.

“They told me to come last week too, but I was busy so I couldn’t. I was so sad I couldn’t see you earlier. It’s been sooooo long!!” he explained.

You hugged once again, indeed, missing him. Before the shitshow happened, he was one of your closest friends other than the EXO, the boys’ band. You then told him you were meeting Yixing and he was more than happy to come with you.

So you walked with him to Yixing’s café. He started to talk about the things you missed out about him, like how he became the million seller with his last album, the first Korean solo artist to do so in 19 years (yes go off king), and some of the guys he dated. He also mentioned his plan to collab with Kyungsoo again and how he had high hopes about it, since the first made him got a best friend in the latter and also in you and the two others.

It took him about 10 minutes before asking, “So what happened?”

“Bad relationship, and like usual, they were there to pick up my pieces,” you answered with a sincere smile.

Baekhyun didn’t pry. And that was really what he really need to know. That you were okay.

15 minutes of walking and you finally arrived. And you didn’t even have to enter the café to find Yixing, he was standing on the entrance looking down to his watch and phone. He only looked over when you called his name, and you launched into each other’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he held you.

“Again, not your fault, and never will be.” You stepped back from him and introduced him to the other person. “This is Baekhyun, and this is Yixing,” you said to both and Yixing offered his hand. Baekhyun zoned out for a minute before shaking the other’s hand.

“Come in! And choose your favorite treat please!” the tallest welcomed you in.

After choosing the mouthwatering red velvet cake and rose tea for yourself, all three of you were seated in one of the tables.

“So I never knew you had a café,” you said to Yixing.

“You know I’m a sweet tooth. Once I’ve saved enough, this happened,” he gestured the café. “Have you been okay?”

“Yes, how ‘bout you?”

“Me? I’m okay. Well not really. I’m drowning in debts cause I made a leap of faith when this lot became available couple of months ago, so,” he laughed.

You laughed with him too, “Your parents are rich, Xing. You need to worry about nothing.”

“Exactly why I’m not depressed about the debts,” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “Is this one of the guys you live with?” he asked pointing at the guy sitting next to you, currently head deep in his strawberry watermelon cake.

You chuckled seeing Baekhyun’s excitement eating the treat. “No. He’s their friend though. Mine too.”

Realizing he was being talked about, he looked sheepishly to the both of you. “Sorry, this is really good,” he talked with his mouth full.

“By the way, where do you live? You said it’s not far?” Yixing asked you. When you told him the name of the building, his eyes widen. “No way.”

“What?”

“I live there too!”

“No way.”

“Do you live there too?” Yixing asked Baekhyun this time.

“Sadly, no.”

All of you ended up talking about music, with Baekhyun giving songs recommendation for Yixing to play in his café, most of them are his songs though. Not that anyone complained, his songs are bombs. Baekhyun also asked about business things, turned out he was thinking about opening up a clothes store for his brand.

“Sorry I have to take this,” Baekhyun said when his phone rang, and he walked out of the café.

“Does he know?” Yixing asked once Baekhyun left.

“A little bit.”

“The other guys?”

“They know.”

“Good. You need the support.” He paused again. “I’m really sorry though. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Like I’ve said over and over again, it is not your fault.”

“His mom called a couple days ago.”

Your breath hitched. “Why?”

“He’s been spiraling out of control.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “But why would she call you and not his friends?” They were friends yes, Yixing and your ex. But not that close.

“She asked my number around, knowing I know you, to ask me to tell you. She’s his mom but still a woman. She couldn’t ask you for this.”

“For what?”

“A call. To him.”

And this time you were sure you weren’t breathing. “What happened to him?” you asked him with your head hung low.

Yixing took your hand in his, “Drugs.”

Your head snapped up. “What?”

He took a deep breath before continuing to explain, “He did drug business behind my back at the club, another reason I closed it down other than the fact that all the investors left after what happened. And the police knew. That’s why they tried to push you into suing him, cause they don’t have enough proof to put him behind bars. He never used them before. But his mom told me he’s been doing it. And she begged me to let you know, to ask you to call him. Just once, to tell him to stop.”

Your head fell again, you were holding back tears. You were afraid, of him. You were afraid of what he did to you and also about what would happen to him.

“You don’t have to do it, not after what he did to you.”

“I… I’ll think about it,” you replied weakly.

“Don’t think too hard. I don’t agree with this too. I only told you because his mom literally begged me on her knees to let you know. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You just nodded. When Baekhyun came back, you tried to fake a smile and masked your feelings. After about another hour, with promises of visiting in the future, you left. As both of you walked out of the café, you turned to your side to the guy who spent the last hour staring at your friend, “You know, he’s gay, he’s single, definitely ready to mingle, and I also noticed his interest in you” you watched his eyes twinkled, “Go get that dick,” you lightly smacked his bottom as he blushed and walked in once again to face the guy behind the cashier. You saw them pulling out their phones, clearly exchanging numbers. “Happy?” you asked as Baekhyun came out smiling wide.

“I just got myself a sugar daddy, of course I’m happy!”

“Oh don’t even try. He’s my sugar daddy.”

“Honey, you already have 3, you don’t need more.”

[spookyblackwidow]

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the request!! This is mostly angst, with a fluffy ending, I hope you’ll enjoy it! Prompt lines are in bold

Eggshells

1,524 words

After a third day of fruitless negotiations, Natasha and Clint were escorted back to their hotel room in Cuernavaca, Mexico. A month prior, Fury had found a lead on some missing Stark tech and started coaching them on their latest identities: arms dealer Renata Alvez and her bodyguard Sebastian Burke. Their attention to detail was impeccable, their execution flawless, but the seller had already dragged the process out longer than necessary, and they’d yet to see proof of possession.

Nat sunk down into the bed, a chorus of old springs creaking beneath her, and removed her curly brown wig. She flung it towards the empty dresser before laying back and closing her eyes.

“I want to go home,” she murmured in a voice not quite her own.

“Mmhmm.” Clint gently moved her hand, placing her palm just above her bellybutton, and sat down beside her. “Wanna take that thing off? Not that Renata isn’t attractive, but I’d rather see you.”

“Oh, right.” Natasha peeled away the disguise tech. “Better?”

“Much.” Clint smiled down at her. “Ready for today’s news?”

“Do we have to?” she groaned.

“Absolutely. You and Nick demoted me to sidekick, this is my one thing I get to do for you.” He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through messages and news articles. “Okay, so Tony fell asleep in his workshop last night, which meant no one was watching Dum-E, who almost cost Stark more than just a few suits. If Pepper hadn’t gone through while we were in Berlin and installed enough fire safety devices to equip a small city, it might’ve been a total loss. Not that Stark’s quips and nicknames would’ve been missed, but we’re grateful all the same.

“Next up, Steve discovered cronuts and won’t stop talking about them. Sam’s already sent ‘SOS’ and ‘I’ve made a grave mistake,’ as well as about a thousand of those angry swearing emojis. I’d say he’s having just about as much fun as we are.

“Thor’s still off-world doing whatever the hell it is he does out there, so I guess we’ll have to wait to hear about his misguided antics until he returns. Did you know,” he turned to face her, setting his phone on the sheets, “he once asked me how to use the toaster? I mean, the guy can fly, for fucks sake, he spouts off about how human technology is ‘so primitive,’ yet the process of placing sliced bread into a slot and pushing down a lever was beyond his grasp. He’s entertaining, but damn, he is not as smart as—”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?” Nat snapped, her eyes scrunched closed. It was then that Clint noticed how taut her muscles were, how her shoulders were creeping up toward her ears.

“Y-yeah. I’ll just… go read or something.”

Clint wanted to help, to offer a back rub or something, but they’d been together long enough for him to know she needed space and silence. She was stressed and upset, not that he could blame her; Nick had sent them off on a “long weekend” sort of trip that was anything but. He could’ve had them on a five-hour flight to Mexico City, which would put them roughly half an hour from their hotel, but he’d vetoed that plan in favor of something more authentic to their cover story. So they took a four-hour flight to Houston, walked nearly 45 minutes to the rental car, and then drove over 17 hours to Cuernavaca. A day and a half one way, all for some fucking authenticity. Anyone would be stressed after that.

Clint grabbed a book from his suitcase and slipped out to the shaded balcony despite strict instructions to stay inside the room. The building was surrounded by their contact’s guards, but he figured the odds of being shot for disobeying orders were about the same no matter which side of the door he chose, and he’d much rather risk his life without irritating Nat; although, she would be fairly mad at him if he died. She always teased that the coroner would be able to list “stupidity” as his official cause of death.

He paged through his book for a while, doing his best to stick to shadows and the guards’ blind spots as they circled, and decided it was finally safe enough to go back in. As soon as he opened the sliding door, he heard the shower running and Nat faintly humming a tune he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t quite nine, but Clint knew Nat’s routines well enough to know she’d be ready to pull the curtains and turn in for the night after combing her hair.

Clint was also acutely aware that after their spat, he was uninvited from sharing the king-sized bed, a reality he was almost always prepared for. Hidden in the lining of his suitcase was a sleeping bag designed for missions requiring outdoor reconnaissance—lightweight, durable, thermal lined—though he mainly used it for nights like this, resigned to sleeping on a cold floor thinly covered by rough carpet. At least it was midsummer, a combination of the baking sun and lack of functioning air conditioning had kept the entire room warmer than he was accustomed to.

Honestly, Clint could fall asleep just about anywhere, it didn’t matter if he was particularly comfortable or not; as long as the ever-present exhaustion pressed against the back of his eyes, he could sleep. He wasn’t sure if it was noise or stress over aggravating his partner, but something woke him several hours after they’d settled down for the night. At first, he kept his eyes closed, willed himself back to the warm embrace of sleep, but instinctual worry nagged at him. With a suppressed sigh, he gave up and looked around the cramped space.

Natasha was standing at the sliding door, the edge of the fraying curtain balled in her fist, moonlight spilling across her face through the gap in the fabric. Clint sat up slowly in an effort to not startle her.

“Nat? Why are you awake?”

“I… I don’t know.” She shook her head and turned around to face him. “I guess I’m just having trouble sleeping tonight.”

“Is this about the job? Because I’m sure we’ll be out of here soon, they have to trust us at some point.”

“No, Barton, I don’t think this is about the job.” Nat smiled softly and let the curtain fall closed, plunging them into darkness. He could hear her pad over to the bed, the springs protesting as she sat on the edge. Under normal circumstances, she was hard to track, nearly silent, as if she barely touched a thing, but the longer they were together, the more weight she seemed to put into her movements, like she didn’t feel the need to walk on eggshells around him. He followed the sound and settled in next to her.

“Are we okay?” Clint’s voice was rough and low. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he had to ask. She had called him Barton, for fuck’s sake.

Nat was quiet for far longer than he would’ve liked, but she laid her head on his shoulder as she pondered the question.

“We’re okay, I think.”

“Is it something I did, or—”

“Oh, no, I’m—” she took deep breath and exhaled agonizingly slowly, “I’m sorry, it’s me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier; I don’t even know how you put up with me.”

Clint couldn’t suppress a chuckle, his shaking shoulders causing Nat to sit up straight again. Although his eyes hadn’t adjusted quite enough to see her features yet, he felt her quizzical stare that he was so intimately familiar with.

“Did I say something funny?”

“‘Put up with’ you? Really, Nat? I put up with Tony and his personal brand of chaotic insanity. I put up with Fury’s absurd paranoia, the difficulties of the job, the long nights, the constant risk of harm, but you? My god, do you think I’d still be here, going on missions, just the two of us, if I couldn’t handle the stressed arguments?”

“I—”

“And this was nothing, Nat! You snapped at me, so what? To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised you don’t yell at me more often. I’m obnoxious.”

“No, you’re—you know what? You are kind of obnoxious.” Nat laughed quietly and placed a hand on his stubbled cheek. “But you’re my obnoxious partner, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Agreed.” Clint gently pressed into her palm and smiled, relief washing over him. “Now go back to bed, I have a feeling we’ll be heading home tomorrow.” He stood and started toward his sleeping bag, but Nat snagged his wrist.

“Only if you’ll join me.”

Resting comfortably in Clint’s arms. Natasha quickly fell back asleep, content, safe. Even though this was their usual arrangement, Clint savored every second of it, letting the rise and fall of Nat’s chest, the slow, steady breaths lull him until unconsciousness took over. No matter where their missions brought them, this was home.

Tag List: @romanoff--natasha​ @clintashaotp​ @baker151910​ @unsociable-hobbit​ @thexploress​ @unholyromanoff​

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love pt 12

Hey everyone! The story continues! Thanks to everyone who sends me messages and comments! Sorry if I’m spamming your feeds, but I try to answer all the old questions before posting the next part, so I don’t get too far behind. 

I’m really having fun, and I hope you guys are too!

Master post linked here

Quick content warning for this next part. Lenora’s mother is emotionally and physically abusive. The physical part is not described or detailed. 

______________________________

I thought I had mentally prepared for my mother’s  arrival. It had been almost two years since I had last seen her face in my past life. I couldn’t help but wonder if she would be any different in this one. So many things had already changed here and there, perhaps she had as well. 

Sitting at my desk, pretending to work but unable to even read one page, I stopped to laugh at myself. At these types of pathetic hopes. I knew better than anyone that she wouldn’t change.

I heard the sounds of a carriage outside, dropping the unread book in my hand with a loud thud. My heart rate increased, pounding in my chest as I stood up, moving towards the entrance.

I could already hear her screaming.

 “HOW DARE YOU DROP MY BAG YOU STUPID COW!”  Mother stood there, her face red with rage, screaming at one the young women who worked as a maid at our home. She was a newer higher, I had only seen her a few times around the main hall, but I felt a pang of sympathy as she shied away from my mother’s anger, mumbling apologies as she clutched the bag in question.

“I’LL TEACH YOU TO DISRESPECT ME!” the terrified words and tears of the maid fell on deaf ears, as my mother raised her hand, preparing to strike the girl. Even in her anger, a slight grin tugged on the corner of her mouth. She thrived off of moments like this, making others afraid.  

______________________________

“What happened?!” As she got in the carriage after the disastrous party, mother glared at my father and me, confused.

 “Prince Ronan… he… he broke of the engagement.” I could barely force the words out through my tears. My father sat at my side, trying to hand me a handkerchief to dry my eyes, looking overwhelmed.

“…” The carriage was deathly silent.  My mother looked at me with a tired, disdainful gaze.

“So you’ve finally done it?” Her gaze was sharp, feeling as though it was flaying me open. “I’ve told you over and over to ensure he fell in love with you, and in the end you couldn’t even keep him interested enough to tie the knot?!”

“Dear, maybe this isn’t the time or place…?” My father interrupted with a sympathetic glance towards me, but was ignored.

 “Did he leave you for another woman?” Her question was cold, sucking all the warmth out of the carriage. I shivered, trying to hold back further tears and nodded silently.

“THEN WHY DID I WASTE ALL MY TIME ON SUCH A WORTHLESS GIRL?!!” Her hand raised up in the air. I closed my eyes as it came down towards me, wishing I was someone else.

______________________________

 The lawn was silent. Mother’s hand was stopped, paused mid-swing as I reached out and grabbed it. The contact stung my palm, but I smiled gently, refusing to show any pain in front of her.  Behind me, the maid still crouched, staring up at us both with wide eyes, only releasing the bag she still held as a grim-faced Hallers reached out and took it from her.

“Welcome back, Mother. Why don’t we have some tea inside?” 

My first words to my mother since I woke up in my second life. It felt oddly surreal. Our eyes met, and despite my complex feelings she didn’t appear to realize anything was amiss. Shrugging, she dropped her hand and stepped away from the maid, a bored expression back in place.

 “No, no tea just yet.” She was looking at the family home with disgust. “I must have a bath first, I’m positively filthy from the road dust.” Without a further glance at anyone, she strolled inside, heading upstairs. Shooting a quick glance to me to confirm I had no disagreement, Hallers went into action, giving out instructions to the servants to arrange the bath and unpacking.  

With a small sigh of relief, I turned to return inside, only to pause as I felt a small tug on my sleeve.

Surprised, I looked back to see the maid I had rescued from being struck.

“Thank you, Miss!” Her eyes were filled with gratitude, making me unsure as to how to answer. I wasn’t someone who should be thanked. I was the one who brought that woman back in the first place.

I forced a smile, “Don’t worry about it. She thinks everyone is useless…” I paused, briefly looking back at the home which now contained my mother. “Especially me.”

“That’s impossible!” She stuttered slightly on her reply, obviously nervous at the conversation, “No one could think YOU are useless, after everything you’ve done! Everyone looks up to you, Miss!”

“I wouldn’t say that…” I met Hallers gaze, expecting him to chastise the girl for not returning to work but found him nodding in agreement instead. I wondered briefly if complimenting me was the way to get on his good side, and then brushed the idea aside as ridiculous. Hallers was an eternal professional. He would never give leeway in the rules for such a silly reason!

Focusing back on the young maid, I asked. “What’s your name?”

“Lia, Miss.” She curtseyed as she spoke, a well-practiced gesture. Despite her youth and inexperience, she had obviously been working hard. I made a mental note to commend her to Hallers later, along with a warning to keep her away from my mother.

It was the least I could do.

“Well Lia, I’m happy you’re fine.” I turned away and walked back inside, thinking of the confrontation that was awaiting me shortly. 

“One of us should be.”

______________________________ 

My mother took her time with the bath, only coming down after several hours had passed. I had given up waiting and was going through some of the weekly expense reports in the office, feeling tense. Every nerve was on edge. If anything, it seemed  as though Mother’s long absence from the family had worsened her self-indulgent and abusive personality. My hopes of being able to reason with her were disappearing fast. 

This was not going to go well.

A quiet knock on the door sounded, and Hallers, his face once again expressionless, let my mother in. I stood up to greet her, smiling despite my sudden nervousness, and looked over at the butler, feeling a pain in my chest at the concern in his eyes.

“We’ll need a few minutes alone. I’ll ring for tea once we’re done.”

He looked back at my mother for a moment, worry slipping through his otherwise perfect mask. “Are you sure?” He whispered. It must have cost him a lot to ask this, and  for the briefest of moments I wished more than anything I could say yes. That I could hide behind him and beg him to stay. To protect me from what I had to do next.

 But that wouldn’t help me in the end. I had to change my fate, and to do that… I needed my mother on board.

“I’m sure.” And I was. Despite how much I wanted to avoid this, I knew with absolute certainty that I didn’t want him to witness what I was about to do. “I… have to do this. “ 

His face resumed its mask, but his eyes stayed on mine.  “Good luck, Miss.”

The door closed behind him, and I was alone with my mother.

______________________________

She was beautiful, it was impossible to deny it. Coppery hair, held up in an intricate design, large dark eyes framed by full lashes, her features were delicate, hardly touched by time. She moved with a grace of a much younger woman, each motion stunning to watch.

She sat down in one of the chairs, looking me over with a critical eye. “How are things going with the Prince?” The first question she always asked when she saw me.

How many times had I dreamed of giving her a positive answer, of finally making her proud of me?

But it was never meant to be, in this life or the last.

“We barely see each other.”  

In response, She glared at me, annoyed by my answer. “PERHAPS if you put more attention to your appearance?” She glanced at my dress again. “No man would want to court a plain girl who dresses like a servant!”

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. I did wear simpler designs at home, no longer comfortable in the complex lace ridden monstrosities that Angela constantly wanted me to wear, but it was still well made, elegant clothing. This design was one of our best sellers at Prosperity, in fact. 

“No, this just won’t do.” She shook her head, smiling condescendingly at me. “I’ve heard of this new shop, “Prosperity.” Apparently it’s all the rage among the nobility. I’ll take you there before your birthday and we’ll try to make you look presentable.”

I kept my face straight, sitting down behind my desk. “That’s alright, I own quite a few dresses from there already.”

How I managed to say that without laughing, I was unsure. Fortunately, Mother didn’t notice, it was unclear if she had even heard my response at all. She was already making her own plans.

“Of course, I’ll go shopping tomorrow, I need an entirely new wardrobe. I’ve had this for an entire season, and I hate to have them think I’m out of fashion. Then once we’re done at the dress shop we’ll move on to accessories…” She continued speaking, but I had already stopped listening, internally wincing as I mentally added up the amount of money she was already planning on spending within her first day of arriving.

I couldn’t let this happen.

“Mother,” I interrupted her, ignoring her annoyed stare, “As far as shopping goes, we’ll have to be careful. We still have debt to pay, and we can’t afford…”

“Of course we can afford it!” She waved a hand, dismissing my concerns. “Your father is a lord! We run the duchy!”

I shook my head. “The money from the duchy is all going back into the land for now, to help it get back on its feet. Right now we are solely getting money from my business…”

“WHAT?” She jumped to her feet, her face pale. “Are you working for money, you stupid girl? Who do you think you are, a merchant’s daughter?!” She laughed, an angry, bitter sound. “If anyone caught wind of this, if the palace heard of this… you’d be finished socially.”

“We’d be finished anyways, given the amount of debt we had.”

“None of that will matter when you are Queen!” Her voice was raising, her face turning red. “No one will dare collect from us then!”

“We can’t count on that.” My voice turned pleading. “Please be reasonable, we must live within our means…”

“WE COULD COUNT ON IT IF YOU WERE DOING YOUR JOB PROPERLY!” Leaning over my desk, her face was close to my own, I could see my face reflected in her furious gaze. “If you were prettier, smarter… better… He would love you and never look away. Don’t you DARE ruin my life because you are too boring to keep your own fiancé from straying!”

Mother sat down, catching her breath as she finished her tirade. I watched her with a tired gaze, wishing I was anywhere else. That I was anyone else.

My hand trembled as it inched towards the drawer in my desk.

“Please, Mother. For once in your life consider your family before yourself. I’m only asking for a little restraint, nothing life-changing. Can’t we just…” My voice broke. “Be a family? Work together?”

She laughed, her eyes mocking me as she answered with a smile. “You do not tell me what to do. You should never have had any involvement with the Duchy’s finances or a business in the first place. We’ll put a stop to it immediately. Your father will take over, as is proper, and you will focus all your attention on catching and keeping the prince’s attention. As for me?” She chuckled. “I am going shopping tomorrow.”

I felt a chill, as my heart froze within my chest. My gaze turned cold and my hand no longer trembled as I unlocked the drawer, slowly removing the folder from underneath the false bottom. 

The file I had Rig prepare as his second assignment. The one I hoped would never have to be used.

Thud.

I tossed the papers on the desk in front of her. I was smiling, but the expression didn’t meet my eyes, which grew colder as she reached for the papers, confused 

“What is this?”

“See for yourself.” Every word lacked emotion. I couldn’t allow myself any chance to feel pity for her, to feel regret over what had to be done.

She opened the file, reading each page, the blood quickly draining from her face. Tossing the papers to the floor, she glared at me, spitting with rage. 

“LIES!” 

I sighed. “No, Mother. That’s the truth.” I pointed at the folder. “You are having an affair with the Earl of Beral. You have been visiting him at his private house regularly during the time you pretended you were staying with family. The affair has been going on for two years now, although he is by no means the first.” I explained the contents of the papers with a dispassionate tone, as if describing the weather. “Every detail of your affairs is written down in that file. Every. Sordid. Detail. ” 

Her eyes widened. “No matter what some piece of paper says, that doesn’t make it true.”

“But it is true, Mother.”

And it was.

______________________________

“Mother!” I slammed the door to the small room we were renting, furious. “Did you steal from the dress shop I work for?!”

She sat at the table, her usually well-styled hair disheveled. I noticed she was wearing a beautiful new gown, now stained with dirt. In one hand clutched a piece of paper, the other covered her eyes as she sobbed. 

“That bastard!” She pounded the table with the fist holding the paper, crumpling it further. “THAT DIRTY, LYING BASTARD!”

I was confused, but still pushed forward, determined to hear the answer. “Mother… did you steal from the shop I work for? They fired me today, thinking that we were working together! That was the only source of income we had! What are we going to do?!”

She dropped the hand covering her eyes, glaring at me. “None of that matters, you stupid girl! I needed the money so I took it!” She sniffed disdainfully. “I’m the wife of their Duke, they owe it to me!”

I winced. We hadn’t seen father in weeks. Severely depressed after we had lost our home, he had taken to gambling in gentleman’s halls. I hid what money I could, but he somehow always found some to take with him, only to come back with nothing, smelling of alcohol and regret. I had heard rumors that he owed the wrong kind of people money now, and with him not returning day after day, I assumed the worst.

“We’re not owed anything now, Mother.” I sat down at the table as well, feeling defeated. “What’s wrong?”

“I took the time to get dressed up, and go see him! He should be GRATEFUL! How dare he turn me away, as if he’s somehow BETTER than me!” She was barely coherent in her rants, throwing the piece of paper on the table.

I looked at the letter, and felt pain at the words. “You were having an affair with the Earl of Beral?”

 “Six years we’ve known each other! But now that he has a young whore for a wife he suddenly doesn’t need me anymore!” She pounded the table again with her fist. “I thought he simply wasn’t getting my letters, that’s why he hasn’t come to get me… but this…”

I wanted to cry, but held back my tears, trying to reach out to comfort her. “Mother…”

She slapped my hand away. “STAY away from me!” She spat, standing up and pointing at me. “This is all YOUR fault! All you had to do was marry the Queen’s brat and we would have been happy!”

“Mo...”

“You killed your father, you know?” She grinned viciously “He died in a ditch, alone, without a single crown to his name and it’s all YOUR fault!”

“…” I couldn’t speak, it hurt too much to breathe.

“Well I’m not staying here a moment longer.” Mother walked to the door, pausing and looking back at me. “I’m going to find the earl, and I’m going to remind him of who I am. And all the dirt I have on him.” She laughed. “Goodbye.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving me alone, staring at the door.

______________________________

“Even if  you have this… paper.” Mother pointed at the file on the floor. “It doesn’t prove anything.”

I shrugged. “I don’t have to prove anything, Mother. All I have to do is release this information to the nobility.” 

Her mouth gaped open for a few stunned moments. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would. You would be cast out from all proper society. A social pariah.”

“But… You would ruin your own reputation at the same time!”

“It may be slightly detrimental, yes.” I spread my hands helplessly. “But after father divorces you and we’re separated legally, many will remember how little you and I see each other. They think of the Queen as raising me more than you already. In the end, I’ll survive the scandal.” I stood, keeping her gaze. “But you won’t.”

In the silence that followed I gathered the papers on the floor, stacking them neatly on the desk and sitting back down.

 “You will be given a monthly allowance. Use the money how you will. Be here for birthdays and anniversaries, otherwise I don’t care where you are or how you spend your life. I think both Father and I would be happier if you spent as little time as possible here.”

I handed her some money, which she held limply in her hand. She stared up with me, her eyes filled with a hopeless rage.

 “I will make you pay for this, you ungrateful brat! You’ll regret crossing me!”

Tapping the folder in front of me, I smiled. “Try me.”

“You’re a monster!” She whispered the words, staring down at the papers that held her dark secrets.

“Naturally.” I stood up leaning closer, whispering the last words in her ear. “One gave birth to me.”

She left silently, and I sat back in my chair in silence.

______________________________

It was done.

I should feel relieved, or angry or sad… but instead, I felt empty.

I had wished for a different ending in this life.

______________________________

I stood on the street, staring at the woman’s body on the street. Rig put a hand on my arm, worried. “I didn’t want you to see this, but Hale said she looked like you…”

“It’s my mother.” I whispered, taking in the all too familiar features, now still and silent. “How…?”

“Made to look like a robbery, but there’s some whispers that an Earl might have paid someone to keep her quiet.” He studied my face for a few moments. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.” I turned away, shaking my head slowly. “You can’t help the dead.”

______________________________

She was still alive in this life, and even if she never loved me… I still hoped she had a different end in this one.

I stared down at the folder on my desk, replacing it in its hidden compartment. It felt unnaturally heavy in my hands.

This was what I was now.

“A monster.” I whispered, feeling the room starting the fade around me. I was having trouble catching my breath. I reaching out a hand for the bell to call Hallers, but it seemed to move further away.

“Miss?” I heard the door open, but the sound was wrong, as if I were underwater. “I saw her Ladyship exit, are you…”

“A monster.” As I fell through the darkness I felt someone grab me.

“LENORA!”

______________________________

Unsure of how much time had passed, I started to fight my way to consciousness, but paused as I heard familiar voices.

“Thank you for checking on her. The doctor says she’ll be fine, she just needs rest.”

Hallers? Who is he talking to?  I wanted to sit up but  every muscle in my body felt weak as if I had run for miles without rest.

“She works too hard!” A woman spoke out, upset. Maline? “She needs to learn to take it easy, she’s not even sixteen yet and everyone depends on her.”

“She’s tough.” Another voice answered, the accent reminded me of Rig. “She’ll take on the world and win.”

 “I know she’s tough, but I worry!”

“I worry too.”

The voice that sounded like Hallers sighed. “All we can do is support her. But if anyone hurts her…”

Rig’s voice laughed. “Oh they won’t live to regret it, will they?”

I wanted to speak out, ask them who they were talking to, but even as I prepared to open my eyes, a wave of exhaustion hit me, and I returned to the peace of unconsciousness.

[breadcaaat]

part four

Jeongguk x hybrid!reader

| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Words: 3.5k

Genre: action, fluff, eventual smut if i’m brave enough??

Warnings: nudity (again,) blood!!, violence, foul language

“You what, kid? You have three jobs already. Take this and you won’t have any time for sleeping, eating… anything not-working. Seriously, what’s up?”

Jeongguk fidgeted, “I, I need the money.”

Yoongi spat his cigarette butt onto the pavement and crushed it with one hard bootheel, wondering out loud what the hell he’s spending all his money on with a growl. Hookers? Cocaine? Clothes? Food? Probably food. Jeongguk doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. 

He wiped at his lips and thought about it. It’d be nice to have him around, and it’d be good to keep an eye on him. He could also force the kid (not that he wasn’t more than four years older, cough) to take a nap every once in a while, pay him some bonuses so he gets out of that nasty convenience store. 

Thing was, he was already at full staff except for a few shifts, and those weren’t ones he wanted the kid working. Gloss may be a barbershop by day - and a good one, dammit - but at night it served as a tattoo parlor, which was, frankly, illegal since he wasn’t a “licensed medical practitioner.” Those were the times he had shifts open. 

He sighed and glanced over at Jeongguk. Yoongi had met him about a year ago when the kid had walked in one day with a too-shaggy bowl cut asking to borrow a pair of scissors. He’d lent them, curious as to what Jeongguk would do, until the kid walked outside and tried to cut his bangs so he could see properly for work. No mirror. Kitchen scissors. Yoongi had just about had an aneurysm. He’d snatched away the scissors, dragged Jeongguk inside, and made him sit through a proper haircut. The kid had complained the whole time, too, trying to sneak away when he wasn’t looking and moaning about not being able to afford these things, to which Yoongi had sat him back down with a glare and continued each time.

“I’m not charging you jack shit. Sit down. Next time your hair gets like this come back here but for God’s sake don’t take a pair of kitchen scissors to it again.”

Since then, Jeongguk had dropped by every so often - delivering breakfast, finishing the odd task here and there, light drinking on his days off. He was endearing. Sweet. Hard-working. Undeserving of all the shit this city had put him through but hey, those were the motions.

“When are you free?”

Jeongguk visibly deflated in relief. “Saturday, Tuesday, and Friday night, and then all day Sunday.”

“Is Sunday your day off normally?”

Jeongguk puckered his lips, not wanting to say yes but physically incapable of telling a lie. Yoongi huffed.

“Jesus, okay. Keep Sunday. Come in on the other three an hour after the shift before it ends, I don’t really care. Does blood make you squeamish?”

“How often is there blood to see in a barbershop?”

“You know what the night shifts are, Jeongguk.”

“Oh. Oh! The tattoo thing?” Yoongi nodded, and he continued. “No, doesn’t bother me.” Yoongi squinted at him until he broke. “Not that much,” he corrected. 

“Good. Start whenever, and I’ll officially employ you.”

“... No interview?”

“Do you want to be interviewed?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then congrats,” he patted Jeongguk on the back as he passed him to head back inside Gloss, “ - you’ve got the job.” The bells jingled behind him as he exited that conversation, shaking his head. God, he really was worried about him. It’s not like Yoongi was particularly good at remembering to take care of himself - there’ve been plenty of times he’s accidentally not slept for a couple days or forgotten a few meals. It’s just different with Jungkook, because, well, it’s Jungkook. Yoongi can piss on the temple that’s his body all he wants because it’s his, but Jungkook needs to take care of himself. He’s got an ambiguous future full of possibilities ahead of him, and he’s still growing.

“I’m forcing him to take a nap when he comes in,” he mumbles to himself, sliding behind the front desk to check when his next appointment is.

“I want a new name.”

Jeongguk and Stripes were both lounging that night on opposite sides of the bed, Jeongguk exhausted after two long shifts at the breakfast place and the moving company and Stripes restless from staying inside all day since she didn’t have clothes of her own. Jeongguk was going to try and get some hand-me-downs from Miyun, he just needed a proper excuse to not sound like a weirdo. Until then, she was stuck here in her boredom.

He shuffled, turning on his side to look at her. “Why?”

“I don’t like mine. I want a new one.”

“Well,” he scratched at the side of his nose. “What do you want your name to be?”

She paused, tracing the leather in her hands. When she’d discovered the collar that Jeongguk had salvaged on his kitchen table, she’d been admittedly surprised. Since then she’d been holding and thinking about it, reflecting on her past experiences with it.

Her thumb brushed across the tag, a small brass plate bolted into the front of the collar. On it, it had her name, breed, label as a cagedog, and seller.

“Stripes”

CAGEDOG

Tiger - 牧羊犬

Stripes. She hadn’t realized how much she hated being called that until she was looking at the letters, tracing their place on the shackle that’d kept her a slave for the past three years. Her brushing paused. Stripes was a shackle too.

He grunted questioningly, and she sighed, chucking the collar away somewhere near the balcony. “I’m not sure. Just… not Stripes. Only bad people have called me that.”

He nodded, grabbing his phone from the bed stand.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Looking up one of those baby-naming sites. Let’s start by nationality and go from there, yeah?”

She smiled faintly, scooting over a bit. They weren’t exactly comfortable enough with each other to touch in any sense.

“Alright,” he mumbled. “Any, uh, letter you want?”

She shook her head.

“Let’s just browse, I guess.” So, they did, moving through the alphabet and reading the odd one off here and there. It was probably the most comfortable they’d been with each other since meeting (he hadn’t completely forgotten the restaurant but figured that her saving his life was proper moral retribution) though by no means was it chummy. Just… not anxious.

It’s a start, they thought. Seemed the last week was full of new beginnings.

His scrolling thumb paused, and he tapped at a name thoughtfully. “... What about Y/N?”

Y/N. 

Her tail thumped against the duvet and she smiled a bit. Y/N. That name felt like home. “You like that?” he asked. She nodded, then yawned and turned over onto her stomach. He plugged the phone back in and set it aside.

“Alright. Goodnight Y/N.”

She didn't answer verbally, but gingerly let her tail brush his belly like a thankful pat on the shoulder. She's a lot sweeter than she looks, he thought, and fell asleep.

Despite all the exhaustion taking care of another human being cost him, Jeongguk was happy to see changes in Y/N’s attitude and appearance. They were still a little skittish around each other - hell, the way they’d met was so fucking strange in retrospect - but there were moments where things were almost domestic. Little things. Like the way he woke up more often than not with a tail brushing his waist or a finger twisted in the strings of his hoodies. The manner in which whenever he made or brought home food she gravitated towards it with the end of her nose twitching and gleaming eyes. Like how after baths, she’d sidle up to him and stare until he got the message and blow-dried her hair for her, which was both strange and weirdly cute. Her voice had also polished up, and she could speak normally without the no-speak husk to it. These were good days, of course; on others she’d stay on the other side of the room, or escape to the roof, or hide in the bath for a while, speaking very little. More and more good days happened the longer she stayed.

It was as if once she deemed him not-a-threat, all the hostility faded away. He was able to see it now - the bloody, ruthless, tiger-girl act - for what it had been: a survival tactic. She filled him in here and there on how her world had been, and it sounded like it had been honestly horrible.

“Past three years ago, I don’t remember anything.”

“Wait - none of your childhood? All gone?”

“All gone. My life just kind of started up then, and I was living… living a lucid dream. In and out, here and there. This lab, that owner. They groomed me and turned me into something pretty, then sold me to nasty people as a pet.”

“A pet?”

“Mhm. They kept trying to train me - yeah, I see you know what I mean - but I was so angry, it was all I knew. I hurt one of them really bad and got sold off again, a year in, to a cagedogger society. There I was passed around by wealthy cagedoggers until the trade in the ramen shop, when I escaped. I’m the first I’ve ever known to do it. Those men were the poorest and sloppiest of the bunch.”

Hearing all this helped him understand her and her world better, bit by bit, and also offered some surprising closure to the trauma he’d been subjected to in the ramen shop. Has he completely forgotten it? No. Does he not get queasy at the sight of blood anymore? Also no. But it’s so much easier to cope with seeing people die when they’re villains.

Beyond all this, he also found that she had different needs and attitudes decidedly inhuman. Example: the scratching. Two weeks in, Jeongguk had woken up one night to hear her claws picking at the carpet as she stretched, and had woken up to see it all stringy and ruined. He’d scolded her lightly - not really knowing if they were close enough for him to really scold her without her taking off - until she’d explained that she needed to. Stretching, grooming, scent-marking. All very inhuman traits that put him in a bit of a daze. Minutes after, they were meandering over to a pet shop to buy scratch posts. Scratch posts.

There was other stuff, too; the nesting, where she’d pile up used clothes and blankets onto their bed until she deemed it perfect. The midnight walks were a thing too. She’d clamber out the balcony and into the alley to disappear for an hour or two, rejoining him later after a new change of clothes.

Then, at three weeks: play-hunting. It’d scared the shit out of him the first time she’d popped up behind him, tackled him to the ground, and nipped at his ear with a little growl, but he was at a point now where he’d developed a sharp ear for his 6 o’clock. Now when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle he’d whip around and catch her as she pounced. All she needed was a good wrestle here and there to not go stir-crazy, which he was fine with. The general sense of cultural modesty and personal space-bubble he’d grown up with was quickly broken down the more they lived together; bed, couch, kitchen, bathroom. Nudity didn’t bother him so much anymore, which was a surprising development, especially since she was a woman.

There were downsides to living together, though. He’s fucking exhausted. All the time. A few days ago he’d quit his night job at the convenience store and replaced all those shifts at Gloss, helping Yoongi with the shop. He had the suspicion that his hyung was paying him more than the other staff at his level, but he was too tired to complain for the sake of his pride and work ethic. He’d take what he could get. Plus, it was easy work. Keep the place clean, set up some gear, hand him some tools as he worked. There was the whole illegal aspect of it, but honestly - tattoo shops weren’t a major concern for the police force and so Gloss was left alone.

Right now, that’s where he was: sitting on a stool next to Yoongi as he prepared to tattoo matching symbols on a giggly couple, the two girls high on the thrill of doing something outside their parents’ say. Yoongi didn’t seem either irritated or amused; he was impassive, quiet, and growly. Whatever he was feeling, it was completely up to those around him to interpret. It made Jungkook sleepy.

“Antiseptic.” Yoongi set his hand out, and Jeongguk handed a cotton pad of it over. Having watched Yoongi’s process a couple times in the last week and a half, he no longer got nauseous over it. It was actually really interesting. Yoongi would speak up every so often to explain what he was doing, the instinct to pass on what he knew to his younger friend impossible to overcome at times.

Yoongi tossed the pad away into the trash can, quietly double-checking with the girl on the table that the design stencil was what she wanted. Jeongguk prepared to pass him the trimmers as the girl replied with a near breathless Yeah, it’s perfect. Cue a shy little kiss between her and her girlfriend, which made Jeongguk smile a little.

Yoongi trimmed away the body hair where the tattoo would go quickly and efficiently, having practiced this so many times. (Jeongguk had learned that the first tattoo Yoongi ever did was when he was fourteen. Fourteen.)

“Review,” Yoongi drawled in a voice only for Jeongguk to hear, and he ducked down to whisper an answer back.

“Antiseptic to disinfect so she doesn’t get an infection and shave to clear space. And so it heals right.”

“Good.”

Jeongguk preened, sitting back straight.

Next, the stencil. The girls both seemed to hold their breath as Yoongi applied it, and giggled as it was revealed. That made Yoongi smile, faintly; he liked seeing that there were little pieces of the world still naive and innocent as they should be. He hoped these girls lasted despite the knowledge that they’d probably have the typical couple’s dopamine drop in a few months and book it in opposite directions.

The rest of the process was a bit harder to learn and Jeongguk hadn’t quite gotten it nailed down yet, but basically Yoongi would rub in an ointment to help with the process and then begin tattooing, starting with the stencil outline and moving on to color when that was finished. Then there were little finesses to the technique that couldn’t be outlined in a manual, only watched.

So Jeongguk watched.

Here and there he’d pass Yoongi a tool or take a sip of coffee. Twenty minutes passed of this, with the girls cuddling, Yoongi buzzing away, and Jeongguk watching the whole thing.

This is so much better than the convenience store. A headache twinged to life behind his eyebrows and he rubbed at it. Not as good as a full night’s sleep though.

The walk home that night felt exactly like the one when he fell in the river - so exhausted he felt like he was dragging his feet through molasses and eyes dripping shut in the same manner. In fact, all the nights in the past two weeks had felt this way. With his new work schedule he was - arguably - less bored but confoundedly more tired. It was easy to blame Y/N for not working, in his head, but he knew it was wrong to. How could he? There’s no way she could find a job anywhere without being turned away as a freak body modder or cosplayer or whatever the fuck else.

Why is it nobody’s heard about people like her? The cagedoggers? The labs?  It was puzzling, disturbing thought. It made Jeongguk realize just how little the public knew about what happened in organized crime, and it made him feel like they’d all been fooled into thinking they knew anything at all. We know so little. He felt smaller now. The darkness in the streets chilled him just a bit more than usual.

He made sure to walk with a hand on the bridge railing.

The jingle of his keys was the only noise in the apartment building’s hall at this time of night, some time past three. He was woozy, drowsy, and some other adjective for fucking exhausted to the point of mania…

… And wide-eyed fucking awake the moment he stepped inside.

The scene: a wide-open balcony window, a bloodied porch. Red footsteps leading to the bathroom. A crumpled backpack, and next to it, a similarly crumpled pile of clothes. Steam rolling from the bathroom. The sound of scrubbing.

“Y/N?” he asked timidly, scolding himself when his voice shook.

The scrubbing stopped. A sniff.

Jeongguk crept in timidly, his hands shaking. The front door seemed so loud as it clicked shut. He called her name again, hating the way his voice shook. The smell of blood was making his stomach turn.

He peered into the bathroom and met her eyes, already looking up at him.

She was sitting in the bathtub, stripped to the skin and blushing all over from the heat of the water. A flimsy washcloth was gripped in her hand, frayed in places from still-extended claws. Her ears flicked back and her eyes widened, smelling his growing dread. It rolled off him in waves. She could smell his adrenaline.

“I…” The need to explain herself was overbearing, but what could she say?

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. Who died this time?

She dipped the cloth back into the rosy hot water, dragging it over her shoulders. She wouldn’t look at him.

“Y/N.” He growled. He could feel something rising in him - anger maybe? A sense of betrayal? He’d thought and trusted that the vicious tiger girl act was over, but…

“A man and his wife, then another guy,” she murmured, and his stomach dropped. She moved on to explain quickly before he kicked her out.

“I’ve been looking in the past few weeks for all the places I remember being owned in, and found one of the auction centers. I was just going to watch, I promise - I…” She looked up at him then, swallowed. “I just wanted to know. Know more. Figure out why people would own other people and the plan was to go in, check it out, and then leave without ever being seen and I would’ve but then this boy stepped up onto the block - I’m talking a boy, Jeongguk. He couldn’t have been older than eight. This foreign couple bid for him and I was so scared for him and angry. He was… the youngest I’ve ever seen.”

She was silent for a moment, and his posture softened. He didn’t know that kids were ever a part of this, not that that made the situation any more or less horrendous than it was, but… kids.

Her eyebrows knitted suddenly and she plunged the washcloth back into the water, dragging another wave of suds across her neck and shoulders.

“I haven’t told you before but we’re not born like this. I’m sure we start out human. I don’t know the tools they use or the people that do it but they turn us into these things - these hybrids - and then they wipe our memory. Blank slate. I woke up one day with no memory of whatever life I’d lived before and…” she pauses, eyes drooping and ears flattening. “I had claws. Ears. A tail - and my eyes felt wrong to look at in a mirror even though I don’t remember what they used to look like. I didn’t even speak Korean. I can’t begin to describe what that’s like Jeongguk. So for a kid…” She swallowed hard, eyes blurring. Jeongguk found himself softening, chest aching.

“I was just so full of… I don’t know. It felt like regret, but for the kid. Regret that he’s gonna be like me and the rest of the pets. So I killed his buyers. Ripped their rib cages open and hung a guard with the wife’s intestines, from the rafters.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Rolling steam. Rusty blood. The fridge hummed in the room behind him.

“And the kid?” Jeongguk found himself asking before he could filter.

Y/N dunked her head under the water and scrubbed at the blood matting her hair down, ears be damned, then emerged with a slosh of water that seemed so incredibly loud.

“Don’t know. They took him into a back room and I ran away.”

A/N: i’m trying to keep an update schedule, once a week but :/ keep the comments comin!! i live off validation !! !

Taglist:@feed-my-geek-soul @starryannaaa @not-novoa @astronomyturtle @anoushe01 @seokchella @dinorahrodriguez

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[the-fiction-witch]

Princess’ Favorite

REAL LIFE: OLD TIMES ISH COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: VERY SMUTTY

I yawned as I helped my father unloading the barrels and boxes from the cart onto our little wooden market stall hearing the other stall owners do the same and the hussle already begun of sellers trying to work the few people already wondering around, Every so often the guards and officers going around on there horses trampling anything in there wake, sometimes even a child I it didn't run from the horses steps "You seller!" A man yelled making me and my father freeze looking up to the man on his horse he wasn't a guard which made me relax a little "Yes sir?" My father asked him "Your boy? Family or own?" He asked glancing to me "Family sir, he's my son" my father answered "Is he of age?" He asked and my father nodded "good I'll take him," he asks and I froze very confused the man threw down a bag of coins and he grabbed my arm tiring a rope around my wrists "Father! You can't just let him take me!" I yelled "I'm sorry Thomas, this is more then we make in three years" he says "I have the rest bought to you later, come along boy!" He said tiring the rope to his horse and starting off I didn't even get chance to say anything before having to run to keep up with the horse.

I had been working for this man for about a year or so nothing to bad even if it was hard work, but he said he had sold me on to someone else so I was waiting to find out who that was. "You must be Thomas?" A man smiled and i nodded "excellent you'll do nicely" he smirked taking my bag and helping me inside this place it was close to the place and it seemed nice from the outside he lead me to a silky room with a bed and pillows and I instantly panicked "now did your previous master... explain your duties?" He asked "No sir" I said "Alright, well... We are a very well known and respected establishment, we used to just do for the higher ups but we work a very specific clientele now" he smirked and i panicked more "the royals, here the royals various concubines live and rest and prepare before they go up to whoever summoned them" he explained and I relaxed a little "So I'll clean up move things around-" i began a little lost as to what my part in all this is "Ohh no no Boy, none of that manual junk you where before" he smirked "we got s new princess come of age, I had to get some to young pretty boys in" he explained "Me? A - a.... For the Princess?" I stutter unsure of how to really say the word "Yep, I've got two more she'll pick between the three of you every night she wants one" he smirked "your rooms down there get yourself settled" he says ...

"Morning" jack smirked one of the other boys in here with me "Morning, how was it?" I asked "You know I can't speak of my night with the Princess" he smirked coming and sitting in my bed grabbing my wine and taking a sip "Atleast you've had a night with her" I sighed snaching my wine back "She'll pick you Thomas, come on there's only three of us, you'll get your turn" he smirked "She's never picked me, Every dam night she calls us up and not once as she picked me" I complain "Maybe you need to present yourself better?" He suggest "Why she never sees me," I sighed "what is she like?" I ask "I can't tell you" he laughs "honestly Thomas' I don't really know, I don't see her that often and when I do I'm blindfolded, it lasts about ten minutes before she sends me back here" he shrugs "maybe you could... Advertise?' he smirked "What send her a letter saying, ohh princess a reminder you've still not fucked one of your three concubines" I sighed "that's what I don't get, there's only three of us? Surely just numerically I should have got picked atleast once" I sigh "That's not what I meant" he laughs "Then what?" I ask "If you where trying to sell me... Lets say an apple how would you go about it?" He asks "Uhh say the apples I have a better then everyone else's, maybe a free apple or something I don't know" I explain "Bingo" he smirked "What?" I asked "what have I missed?" "Free" he smirked "What... Jack, your not suggesting I go up there" I began "uninvited" "That's exactly what I'm saying" he smirked "creap up the tunnel knowone will be none the wiser, sneak into her bed chamber and be waiting for her when she comes to bed" he smirked "maybe she didn't think she wanted you, but make her know she needs you" "No, I'm not going up there when she hasn't sent for me, a guard catches me I'm dead" I complain "then figure your own way around this" he sighed going to his own room...

I stood nervously as the messenger stood at the door luke the other boy wouldn't work tonight he was getting sick and due for fertility do he wouldn't even be allowed in the running for the Princess tonight in case he impregnated her or got her sick my chances have improved it's fifty fifty between me and Jack now the keeper man stood having a word for s moment and I was slightly eaves dropping, "And kindly tell your princess that I do not enjoy paying too feed and clothe three boys if she only uses two, she doesn't pick the other one soon I'm selling him to the whore house" her whispered and i panicked I know that means me the messenger nodded and got the tray with now two stones engraved with our numbers he went to jack and he did his so he came over to me and I blew on it as I was supposed to some Ritual thing or something and he left going off up the tunnel to the palace we both stood waiting, jack looking tired almost like he didn't want to go but he did go yesterday I understand him wanting to rest, I was scared his much longer would he keep me of the Princess still refused to pick me it seemed like hours before we heard the messenger returning "who's going tonight?" The keeper asks "Three" he said showing the tray, I was shocked that meant me!!! She picked me!! After all this time she finally picked me "Go on get ready" the keeper told me so I nodded and ran off To my room jack following me "Oooohhh somebody's finally gonna fuck the Princess" he smirked "I know... What uhh what do I do to get ready?" I ask him a little confused "Bath, shave, dress then go up to the palace guards will lead you from there" he says "Right okay" i nodded very nervous but they excited "I'm just in shock, I can't believe she picked me" "Don't overhype it in your head Thomas, it's not all that amazing when it actually happens" he says going back to his room so I did the best I could to get ready and going to the tunnel, the messenger leading me up the dark and narrow staircases and corridors till we reached a door there where guards there one held my arms the other tied a blindfold around my eyes making everything dark they led me somewhere I didn't know where my direction's Lost and confused till they stopped "Remove clothes, wait on bed for princess, you will not remove your blindfold, if it comes lose you must close your eyes and repair it, it is a crime punishable my isn't death for a concubine to look upon a royal" the guard said before the door slammed behind me now how the hell am I meant to get my clothes off and get in the bed with my blindfold on? I can't even tell where the bed is! I pushed the blindfold off just to get my clothes off seeing the silky bed empty with pillows and candles everywhere so I climbed in under the covers and returned the blindfold, I'm not sure how long I waited, but I was very excited especially feeling my body against this soft cosy bed I wanted to lay here forever I heard people talking outside the door "Your selected is inside princess" a guard said "shall we post guard inside?" I didn't hear the response but the door opened and closed and I heard it lock I sat up a bit unsure of what to do "Your number three correct?" A female voice asked "Yes princess" I answered "The one I haven't summoned yet?" She asked "Yes princess" I repeated hearing little noises "Good" her voice said as I felt the covers being moved "let me see you" she smiled I felt her finger run down my neck down my chest stopping just above my hips and she playfully giggled "pretty little thing aren't you" she smirked "Thank you princess" I blushed "Let me see" she smiled tugging at my blindfold "I thought it was forbidden?" I asked a little confused "It's is, please the message said you had the most beautiful eyes, I would like to see them" she says tugging at it more I allowed her, like I was going to deny her is the Princess, I kept my eyes shut a little afraid what if it's a test and the guard is stood behind me ready to kill me if I look "please won't you let me see you" she smiled kissing down my neck "Uumm yes princess" i groaned opening my eyes to see her the room was empty but us making me relax she was.... Beautiful. The most beautiful girl I've seen in my life my dream of what a perfect woman would look like she smiled at me Running her hand down my check "Hehe, he was right you are a very handsome boy" she smiled "Thank you princess... You, you're more beautiful than I ever imagined, I am in awe of your beauty my princess" I told her "You're sweet" she smiled giving my cheek a kiss and she moved to lay on her back in the bed "Right if course" I blushed moving to sit over her even if I was terrified "Is something wrong?" She asks "No, no, not exactly" I blushed "I just uhh... You've never called me before, it's my first time and I uhh I'm a little nervous, and excited, and other things" I explain "Aww that's alright your doing fine" she smiled giving my head a kiss "Thank you princess" I smiled "Hehehe you don't have to call me that all the time, just lady is enough" she smiled "Yes my lady" I nodded "What's your name?" She asked "Three" I answered "No... Your real name" she giggled "Thomas" I blushed "Alright Thomas" she smirked laying back down comfortably spreading her legs wide I looked at her naked body and I was almost in shock she was amazing I blushed a little and nervously pushed Inside her I almost moaned it felt so nice so warm and soft but I didn't need too "uuuuhhh!!!" She sqeualed "What's the matter? Am I hurting you my lady? Did I so something wrong?" I ask her in panic "Not wrong...your fine" she says so I pushed the rest of the way inside her and she moaned more I nervously rested my hands either side of her slowly thrusting my hips it felt so good so amazing so... perfect like I didn't want to stop for the rest of my life so I gradely got faster and faster and faster letting her moan and scream as much as she wants sitting up more as I got faster again my hips working in there own desperate for an orgasum Especially as her pussy tighten around me I felt her cum as she grabbed my arms tightly and sqeualed loudly squirting into her bed I went to stop but she smiled in her exaughsted post orgasum state "no it's okay, keep going" she says so I did as she asked and kept going letting her ride it out she pulled me closer as she rode out her orgasum going to stop as I new I was close but she held my hips keeping me inside her "uuummm don't stop" she says "I have to my lady" i told her "im- I'm gonna cum" "Hummmm so what?" She smirked "Thomas you can cum inside me as much as you like" she smirked "Yes my lady" I smirked giving her head a kiss and getting back to my pase I had before I knew I was driving her crazy and I love it almost pounding the Princesses pussy desperate for my orgasum making her scream loudly for me "uuuhhh! Thomas!" She sqeualed tightening her grip on me "Uuummm umm my lady" I groan knowing I'm not gonna last much longer if I even- just as I was trying to hold back she tighten again squirting around me again as she reached her second and that got me there my hips bucking deep inside her as I finished almost collapsing on her "Your good" she smirked "Thank you my lady" I blushed "your amazing" "Thank you Thomas" she smiled "now could I have a little cuddle before you run off back to your room?" She asked "Of course my lady, anything you want in the world I will do my lady" I told her pulling out and laying in the other side of her bed she smiled coming close and cuddling into my bare chest I smiled wrapping my arms around her to keep her cosy "Ummm I like you, you might be my new favourite" she smiled "Well, maybe wait a little while my lady, you've only had one night with me" I smirked gently playing with her hair "I like him too" she giggled Running her hand up my cock "He likes you too" I smirked "very very much my lady" "Good she likes him too," she smirked "same time tomorrow night?" She asks "If you summon Me, day or night princess I will come" I told her giving her head a kiss

I smirked laying on my bed having some wine, having a little rest. Ohh my god! Every single night she picks me, and even some nights she makes me stay and sleep with her till morning and then we go again I loved it I was her favourite or so she said but I had heard it floating around too now that I was the Princesses favourite a title I did enjoy, luke didn't he was jealous as she hasn't sent for him or jack once in five months jack didn't much care meant he could drink and fool around with some of the Princes' girls from time to time as soon as the messenger arrive we went and did our things and he came back fairly quickly with the answer "Three" he said so I smirked going to my room getting ready and hurrying up to her room they did blindfold me but as soon as the door was locked I slipped it off and put it in her table "Good evening my lady" I smirked as she laid naked in bed waiting for me "Thomas come to bed my sweet cockubine" she joked "Yes my lady" I smirked striping and getting in bed with her "My lady looks very beautiful tonight" I smirk

"Humm... somebodies being very complimentive this evening" she smirked

"Well, you are a beautiful princess." I smiled "I can't help but compliment you my lady"

"Hummm you're a good boy thomas," she smiled "Now, I want to try something different tonight"

"something different my lady?" I asked her a little confused sitting up in bed

"Thomas, you fuck me missionary every single night I wanna try something different" she smirked moving and sitting on top of me

"Pr-Princess, I couldn't not that way," I tell her sitting up a little

"why ever not?" she asks

"Because of... thats, the pleasure position for men not for women my lady" I explain

"You would defy what your princess wants?" she asks

"Never my lady," I told her holding her hands "But, I am your concubine. I'm purely here to please you and love you"

"and your princess wants to do it this way" she smirked

"Well, If My princess insists" I smiled laying down against the pillow and she smirked sitting up letting me slip inside her, I went much deeper as we were doing it a different way it felt amazing already

"Uuuhh thomas, you feel so much bigger this way" she smirked

"uhh! Princess, I'm not sure how long I can last like this" I groaned holding her hips as she began her bouncing it felt even better than the normal way we do it as she bounced faster and harder on me "uuuhhh! Ride me princess" I groaned starting to thrust up getting desperate for her "Make me cum my lady!"

"Ummm so vocal tonight tommy" she smirked resting her hands on my stomach so she could move faster and harder on me "Somebodies enjoying himself tonight"

"very much my lady" I smirked getting faster making her tighten around me as we both got faster and faster she squealed

"Uhhhhhhhh! Thomas!" she squeals her legs tightening around me digging her nails into my chest as she came

"Ummmm My lady!" I groaned going as fast as I could gently moving her hips a little to get myself there and I finished inside her and she collapsed nuzzling her head against my chest "That- That was amazing my lady" I told her

"Very amazing" she smiled getting off me and cuddling up in her little bed

"Right, I will get back to my room" I began going to get up but she held my hand not letting me go "Did you want me to stay tonight?" I asked and she nods "very well my lady" I smiled laying back down and smiling at her "Is something wrong?" I ask her noticing how she had just been looking at me for a while

"No" she smiled moving closer and pressing her lips to mine, I panicked a moment knowing the rules. I'm her concubine, kissing her is reserved only for her betrothal but I blushed and kissed her back till she pulled away licking her lip

"Whoa.... we do a lot that breaks the rules don't we" I blushed

"How so?" she asks

"you use my name, not my number. we do other positions. you let me see you. you let me...kiss you. even finish inside you" I blushed "someone found out I would be exercuted"

"you would, but  would save you." she smiled "You're my favourite after all"

"I am?" I ask her

"of course you are thomas" she giggled cuddling me tightly ad giving my lips another kiss I kissed back wrapping my arms around her to pull her closer gently moaning into our kiss till she pulled back and nuzzled into my neck "Goodnight thomas"

"Goodnight my lady" I smiled giving her head a kiss

"Y/n" she says

"what?" I asked a little confused

"My name is y/n" she smiled

"y/n... a very beautiful name for a princess" I smirked kissing her.

[alex-baebae]

Immaculate

Chapter 21

Pairing: TOP X READER

The next morning we went to our apartment, the activities at the university of course we’re suspended. I called the real estate agent.

The day we returned to the city we were too tired for going to see the houses that TOP liked, then that creepy sh*t just happened. I thought that going to see houses could help TOP and me to think less about that situation.

“Sweetie, are you ready?” I was next to the main door, looking for my lipstick “almost done!” He said.

“Ready” he was in front of me “what did you put on your lips?” he asked staring at them “some lipstick” I said kind of nervous, he was so handsome “your lips look pretty” he said “a-h, let’s go, Seunghyun… Mrs. Williams is waiting for us” afterwards we drove far away.

One night, TOP told me that the place where he escaped from her was a department store, he said 'she' really needed to you know... find a toilet. He waited a minute in front of the restrooms, sixty seconds after, he ran as quickly as he could, he thought it probably would be the only chance he could ever had. He described to me that building, it was maybe at 15 minutes walking from our current apartment. The best way to avoid run into that girl was living in a faraway neighborhood.

“Hello Miss _____” Mrs. Williams greeted me. We walked into the living room of the house, the big back yard could be seen through big glasses “Do you like?” I asked him “yeah, it’s like the pictures we saw” everything was pretty big “so the furniture is included in the price, isn’t it?” I asked “of course, but upstairs there’s no furniture, because the price would be so much expensive, that’s why there are only the essentials here” Mrs. Williams explained.

We went to the main bedroom “this bedroom has a very big balcony, you can see the back yard from here, also the balcony connects this bedroom with the studio and other small room” she was explaining everything about that house “well, I’ll leave you alone to decide if this is going to be your new house” she said “thank you” we both said.

“What do you think?” I asked TOP “This is the one I like” he said smiling “so you didn’t like the other ones?” I asked again “but this has a balcony, and a biiiig back yard, the others don’t have any balcony” he pointed out “okay, then we’ll buy it” I said “W-where I am going to sleep at?” he asked, he seemed to be a little worried “here, with me” I held his hand and squeezed it “b-but if you want you can sleep alone, I’ll buy you a bed and a-“ I couldn’t complete the last word “no, I like to sleep with you”.

That night we moved to the new house, we put everything we owned in the car, even my bed which was able to compress. I used to rent furnished apartments, so there was not much stuff for taking to the new house, everything was easier.

We spent those days buying furniture for our home, we went to many stores and we also assembled our chairs that was very fun. I bought TOP more things like a better printer, clothes, many stuff for cooking, etcetera. Oh! I forgot to tell you about the checkup, TOP's body was finally completely okay, we also removed the tattoo, he was very very very happy that day. My aunt also told us it was safe to start a treatment for TOP’s skin.

“Did you take your medicine?” I asked him “yes” he said kissing my cheek “please eat healthy” he gave me a lunchbox “thank you, angel” I kissed his cheek back “I’m leaving” I got in the car, he waved and send me a kiss, I did the same.

He used to message me and to send me photos of what was he doing during the day such as the food he made, origami, the flowers of the garden… he’s so sweet.

TOP's point of view

Six months after my chest didn’t hurt again, all that time I had been talking to ____ about what ‘she’ did to me, it made felt better as she said.

…

Escape was the best decision; I was not able to endure more… My first time wasn’t a good experience, it hurt a lot but I believed it was normal, after all I was made to do whatever they want. However, I didn’t know why I wanted to cry every night, I really didn’t know why I felt bad.

When she started to take me to please other people everything became worse, most of the times they used to tell me at least one humiliating word, to spank me, to slap my face until it was all red, and... well, it was not common but sometimes they choked me. But compared to what she used to do to me… well I preferred them.

What really made me feel worse and worse were the things that one man always told me before he used my body. He talked about God, heaven, etcetera. He said many things that only made me feel dirty, worthless. That words made me to remember that I was just an object with no right to cry.

In the training they told us about life and death as something natural. The man told me that people go to heaven when they die, it doesn’t matter what kind of things they did in this live if they regretted it, they can enter but... ‘shit’ like me will never be there because, I had no soul. I wanted so much to die as the weeks went on. What will happen? the only I knew is that the pain would stop, that was enough for me, I didn’t deserve something as holy as heaven. In no time I prayed for being killed, however it was like God was not hearing me, maybe God didn’t hear to the things like me.

One day she hit me so hard that I could almost felt the death going through all over my body, inside of my heart I felt happiness instead of the horror I was used to. That day, we went to the local market I helped to carry the bags, ‘she’ saw the girl who was the seller touching a lot my hands when she gave me the bags full of tomatoes. When we arrived home she locked me in her room, I knew she was angry due to the fact that the girl at the market touched me, I sat down and hugged my legs, I was shaking and in tears, I knew what was next.

'You look so beautiful when you cry' she held my face with her right hand, I looked at her quickly she had a baseball bat, sometimes she used to hit my belly with it. My heart was beating so fast, I felt it was going to stop at any moment.

She grabbed my hair, she made me to stood up… the first hit was in my belly, of course it made me fell, then she continued hitting my arms my legs with the baseball bat, she was kicking me too, I was feeling dizzy.

When she kicked my face, I felt like I was out of my body, I couldn’t know what exactly was going on. She somehow put me on the bed, I was on my knees, everything was blurred and spinning.

I didn’t notice when she put me lube, suddenly she was raping me with the baseball bat, the pain took me back to reality, my lungs... I felt they were going to be out of my body due to the hard I was shouting. She was saying many things to me, fortunately I can’t remember well. She turned me around, all I could see barely was the celling. She was touching me a lot my body was shaking for the pain and the sexual stimulation she was giving me, I couldn’t resist more, I passed out. 'That was all, that was all’ I thought to myself as everything became dark.

I believed I died, but I opened my eyes again... I felt so sad. It was late maybe 8pm I didn’t move in many minutes. When I tried to stood up my body hurt so much… I had never felt that way. I saw my belly it was dark and covered in cum as always, but that time I peed too. ‘Why, why am I still alive?' I went to the bathroom falling many times, I washed everything away... my tears, the lube, my saliva, my cum, my pee.

I was about to change the blankets when she roughly took my arm, she took me out from the apartment, I was still feeling out of reality. 10pm I saw the time on a big screen 'did I sleep so many hours?' We were at a street near to her apartment “you have no money, and you still haven’t paid” a guy told her “yeah and I’ll pay you, but for this time you all could use this and have some fun” she moved me roughly towards that guy and his friends, I couldn’t see them well, the skin around my eyes had been becoming inflamed.

“Are you kidding? This sex-doll will be passed out in no time. By the way, where did you stole it?” that guy chuckled. I was scared, I didn't want to have sex with them all at the same time, I wanted to run away “b*tch, we need money, money! Not a sex doll which appears is going to die if I only put my d*ck in it’s *ss” I was frozen, fortunately he didn’t change his mind. “Fuck you, I’ll give you your god damn money”.

'Long time no see' ♥️ I will always love y'all, thank you for your support, your ♥️s always makes me feel better ❤️💞♥️

Alex

[mnemehoshiko]

I Really Should Just Invest In Naps + TMI: HEALTH STUFF (x-posted DW/PF)

I'm so tired. I really need to think of a better way of starting these beyond, "hi hello. i am tired. ONCE A FUCKING GAIN."

My parents came Thursday evening to help my brother move on Friday. He's moving apartments and i'm lowkey jealous because he has

TWO ROOMS!!!

A REAL BATHROOM!!

a fucking washer and dryer in unit

all utilities covered except for internet

for fucking 950/month. T___T

The only con is that he's farther from things compared to his, now, prior apartment. Also it's carpeted which is a downside for me (and probably him). But ughhhhh.

But he did most of the movie on his own before they showed up on Friday? So they didn't have a lot left to move.

Mama brought me pillows?? Which are Nice and Lovely and I like the Color but it was also just weird to go downstairs to let them in and have the exchange of

Me: SALAAM MOM

Mother: Salaam, I have your pillows. *thrusts garbage bag filled with pillows at moi*

Me:*blinks* (thinking....when....did I....ask....for pillows??? In retrospect, it was probably one of those things I like claimed when grandma posted stuff to the family WhatsApp group?? And I probably?? Forgot???) Mother: *squints* you just woke up didn't you. Me, who got dressed in like 3 minutes immediately after she called saying they were here: *takes pillows* =__= (I had Not Just Woken Up. I had woken up and then rolled over. VAST DIFFERENCE!! ....there is no difference.) (In my defense, my period has literally Just Started and I'm like Not Happy By This. T_T) They ask if I want to come to my brother's place to move stuff and I'm like, "i'll go on the second round." (also known as attempt to clean my apartment, haahhahaha) I help with the second round of stuff and we all pile into the mini-van to go my brother's place and it's NICE and I am Not Envious but I'm Not Not Envious. =___=

He has Actual Windows. T__T (my bedroom does not. my apartment...has A Lot of Flaws but It's Walking Distance From Many Things So I'm Paying for Convenience) (is this my current mantra? MAYBE.) Anyway, afterwards we go to Costco because like That Is What I Care About. And we Costco'd up. And had minor rage that a pack of 3, clinical strength "lady" deodorants were 12.99 vs 10.99 for 5 pack of "men" clinical deodorant. My brother concurred and has like also read up on the "pink tax" before and like if he ends up marrying a lady, I'M JUST LIKE??? CONGRATS?? WE HAVE TRAINED SOME SEMBLANCE OF A WOKE BLACK MALE. PLEASE DIRECT PRAISE TO MY MOTHER AND MY SISTERS. (no really, he can cook, clean, grocery shop, basically function as a decent human being and like LISTENS WHEN WOMEN TALK IN A THOUGHTFUL MANNER. He also is willing to openly weep during movies, so like congrats.) Anyway, then we went to Sprouts?? Which is like the Large Hippie Grocery Store in Durham and I uhhhh had never been there properly and now I understand why little brother sometimes grocery shops there. There were So Many Types of Almond Milk I Was In Heaven. (update: have discovered that Sprouts....instacarts to my area......as does Sur la Table. This Is Dangerous Information.) Then we went to the hardware store to acquire somethings for little bro's apartment and then we popped back to my place and my mother was like LET ME HELP YOU WITH THINGS. Me, aware my apartment is still disastrous: "That's....not....necessary." Narrator: The mother was undeterred. She did not have a conniption but she did go into Deep Maternal Worry Mode with Bonus Overbearing and Meddling Steamrolling. Internal Me: She means well. She means well. She feels guilty that she's not Around More Often Even Though I Made The Choice To Move Down South. Mother: are you okay? I know you have the anxiety and depression but has anything else happened?? You know?? You'd feel better if this place was cleaner. Me: *pained nods* Mother: Has anything else happened that you haven't told us??? I know you have the health things but anything else? Me: ...no??? (Beyond health and like my inability to like sleep properly, nothing else has happened but stress of my grad life. =_=_ Mother: LETS TAKE JUST 5 MINUTES AND TIDY THINGS UP A LITTLE

Me, who's hungry and still Has Not Eaten In Spite of It Being 5pm: mother Mother, with broom and dustpan and trashbag: COME ALONG. Internal Me: She means Well. At Least She Is Here And Alive. Appreciate The Time You Have With Her. She Means Well. *grits teeth* We clean. WE ALMOST THROW AWAY ONE OF MY ROTHYS BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T LOOK INSIDE  BOXES BEFORE THROW SHIT OUT!!! And then we go to the restaurant for dinner....where the kitchen messes up my little brother's order and has chapati on the plate and he has a severe wheat allergy. So he takes Benadryl and my mother....goes into....deep worry mode Again. SHOULD WE LEAVE HIM AT HIS APARTMENT BY HIMSELF???? SHOULD WE TAKE HIM TO THEIR HOTEL??

my mother, once again, making plans without idk ASKING EITHER PARTY INVOLVED: MNEME, YOU SHOULD STAY AT HIS PLACE OVERNIGHT!! HE HAS A WASHER AND DRYER SO YOU CAN DO YOUR LAUNDRY THERE FOR FREE!!! me, a known cheap but is fucking exhausted and trying desperately to Not Snap At My Mother Because That Is Not Respectful But Also Looking Forward to Flopping on Her Fucking Couch and Maybe Even Getting A Waterbottle for my tummy: ....yes mother. =___= My dad upon seeing my mother and I exiting the apartment complex with my laundry: ???? Me, wordlessly pleading for salvation: o__o My mother, once we get to my brother's apartment: ....you know I probably should have asked before making this plan... My brother and I having Just Accepted Our Fate: *crickets* I give my brother the air mattress to blow up until he gets a Real Bed, (the place came unfurnished--which is the other reason I haven't moved because i'd need to like Get Furniture And At This Stage of My PhD, It's Just Not Worth It--so he has No Furniture At All). I sleep on the floor instead of telling my brother to just scoot over and let me ALSO SLEEP on the mattress which is a Queen-sized mattress. Nor does it occur to him to offer it to me. *stares into the void at my back* (In her defense, she did message us apologizing and I know she wasn't doing it maliciously and she's over zealous at times because she feels bad that like I'm a few hundred miles away. Alone. By myself. Single and thus don't have like anyone who's there for emotional support which like does suck but also I AM DOING... Not Amazing But Not As Bad As Undergrad? So...yeah.) I do all my laundry except for like One set that I do in the morning because my father is slow as molasses for Anything and I Know That While My Mother Wants To Leave Early they will not be here early and I have accepted this reality. Mother: WE'RE GOING TO BE THERE By 7:30 AT THE LATEST Narrator: They arrived around 10ish. We still managed to get to the farmers markets though? WHICH IS WHAT I WANTED HER TO EXPERIENCE. NC may not have Many Good Things but The Farmer Markets are So So Nice?? And big??? I have also realized if you wear a shirt that says "Ask me, I'm a scientist!" Shockingly, people read it and like ASK. Me, who slept in this shirt and threw a cardigan on because I was Too Lazy To Put On A Real Adult Shirt: ????? ! oooohhhhh... i do science. yes. yes, i do. Also got my brother to change his address because the voter registration folks were there and like IT'S EASIER TO DO IT THERE then like Figure Out Where To Go, so like We Did Our Civic Duty Today. *finger guns* Got some loaves of GF bread from the bread seller that sells Actual Edible GF bread. Sadly, they were out of raisin because it was 11am and like they open at 7am. T___T

Then we grabbed my dad, who went to the coffee shop....to work. It's been almost a full year since his open-heart surgery and he's back to being a Workaholic. =___=

Then we went to Lowes because he needed something and my parents FAILED TO COMMUNICATE PLANS and he was like...."oh I thought we were going to do it on the way back to MD??". Either way, I now have an adapter to make a three pronged plug into a two pronged one? So yay?

Then we took me, and my laundry, back to my place. My mother gave yet more instructions. I just smiled and nodded and reminded that she meant well.

And then ran back to the car because SHE WAS SO INSISTENT ON LIKE MOVING MY LAUNDRY BASKETS THAT SHE ALMOST LEFT HER MEDS BEHIND!! Me, ....this...is why....i said.... i could do it.......

But they are now back safely in MD, along with my brother because he has an orhto appointment. I was debating going back with them but I uh can't because I have a meeting with my PI on wednesday. And thus, I stay here. But I have a lot of article revisions and analyses to do so it sadly makes sense.

Maybe I'll try to go NY in Aug or mid-July?

IN FUN HEALTH THINGS, new game that I hate; "is this blood from my period or from my ass?" Spoiler: It's both~~~." Which now makes me regretting uh telling the gastro office that "no, I don't have symptoms so I don't think the steroid is necessary??" But in my defense, I DIDN'T HAVE SYMPTOMS ON WEDNESDAY WHEN THEY CALLED. Also they uh, usually are 3-6 months apart not 1.5 months...apart. So that was an unpleasant surprise which led to me pass out in bed when my parents left because ahhahahaha blood loss is v v exhausting and I forgot to pack my iron pills last night.

-____-

So, my mother is coming down again in July to take me to my sigmoidscopy. In which, they'll see things. Or they won't. I hope they see something? Anything? I don't want UC but I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW

- why i've been constantly inflamed since 2015?

- i know what hemorrhoidal bleeding looks like and uhhhhh i'm sorry but I shouldn't be dropping Actual Clots Out Of My Ass

*lies down*

i just want to not be tired and my intestines to not hate me as much. =_=

Okay, I am Going To Actually Sleep After I Knock Back Some Licorice Tea for my throat. (it's....super sore for some reason which is Not Great since I have D&D tomorrow most likely.)

[mahkaria]

Of novelists and stray dogs - CHAPTER 4

Inferno 

In a dark alleyway, not too far away from the shopping district, a crowd had started to form. Most of them were men in their twenties. Dark tattoos covered their arms and their neck, as if they took pleasure in looking like stereotypical villains. They didn’t say anything.

Finally, a woman taller than the other arrived. A deep, unpleasant smirk almost cut her face in two and as she moved forward, her subordinates parted to let her pass.

No respect could be seen on their face. Only fear and regret. This woman : Katou Misao, but she was more often called The Puppeteer ; the leader of The Black Warriors .

“Boss, one of our men managed to find the list.”

“Well? Don’t make me wait and give it to me.”  She ordered.

A small book was given to her. On it, the list of all the businesses under Port Mafia’s protection.

“Perfect.” She purred. “Hana, I believe you can take care of it?” She asked to one her lieutenants.

“Of course, boss.”

“Then get to it.”

The teenager took it. Who would have thought she would use her ability this way?

His whole body hurt. He could feel his muscles contract and relax at regular intervals as they pressured his bones.

Atsushi groaned.

The mornings after a transformation were never a pleasant experience. Never.

Good thing he had finally sent his most recent short story. He didn’t want to move even a finger away from his futon..

His phone rang.

A new groan from Atsushi.

He stood up as slowly as he could his whole body cursing him for this decision. He picked up.

“Hello, Atsushi-kun. How are you?”

“Good morning, Tanaka-san. I’m fine and you?”

“I wanted to talk about your new work.” He explained.

“It’s not good enough, is it ?”

“Of course it is. I told you not to worry about it. Just, my superior read it and wanted me to pass a message.”

It’s never good when a sentence starts like that.

“He finds your style extremely dynamic and thinks it would be better for you if you were to - how do I put it? - write about different themes.”

“What? But -”

“It would sell better and be more attractive to new readers, don’t you think?”

Atsushi didn’t know what to answer.

It was thanks to the said editor in chief he had been able to find this apartment. A friend of his had agreed to lend him the place as long as he kept working for them. He was a nice forty-nine years old who had greatly encouraged Atsushi. He owed him more than he could ever pay back.

If that’s what he wants I can’t go against him but -

“I’m sorry I -”

“Atsushi-kun, you do want to keep having a job, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then, you should do what I say. Stories about mythology and historical events are fine but they get boring with time. You won’t keep earning a lot if you only focus on this.”

“Yes but-”

“I’m your editor, don’t you trust me?” Tanaka asked.

“Of course I do !”

“Then do as I say. Write about more modern subjects. I know you’re a kid and can’t totally understand it but I’m only here to advise you. Listen to me or you could really regret it.”

“I see, thank you very much.”

“Glad we understand each other. I’ll wait for you next story then. I’m sure you’ll do great, it won’t be too hard for you to change, right?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Cool, have a nice day.”

“Good bye.” Atsushi stuttered.

A soft bip and the young boy was alone with his thoughts. All hopes of a peaceful morning had vanished with one conversation.

What does writing about more modern subject even mean? He wondered.

Until now, Kunikida, his grandmother and Sensei had always praised his writings. Did they only do it by mere politeness? No, they weren’t this kind of people. Kunikida was as blunt as an uppercut; a trait he shared with his caretaker.

Sensei firmly valued honesty and had never hesitated at criticizing Atsushi when it was needed. He wouldn’t lie.

He trusted them more than anyone but at the same time…

Maybe he should go to a bookshop see which were the best sellers?

He fell on his futon once again.

I’ll do it later.

As his eyes were about to close once again, another ringing disturbed him. From his door this time.

He didn’t expect anyone. It would either be publicity or one of his neighbours. They could wait. Atsushi threw his pillow over his head. Only a hurricane would prevent him from resting.

After a moment, no sound came.

One minute

Two minutes

Three minutes

They had probably left.

“At - su - shi - kun ~” A giggling voice whispered next to his ear.

A deep shriek shook the whole building.

“Wow, so energetic when you just woke up? I’m envious !”

“Da- Dazai-san?”

“Yo! Atsushi-kun ! How are you in this fine day?”

The said boy looked left and right. Then left and right once more. No, there was no mistake on his part. It was indeed still his apartment. So it only meant one thing.

“Dazai-san, please stop picking my lock !” He screamed.

“But you weren’t answering.”

“I could have been absent.” Atsushi protested.

“You only go out in the afternoon. In the morning, you just work.”

“How do you know that?”

“That’s a secret!”

I haven’t seen him in three days and I already can’t deal with him anymore.  Atsushi sighed.

“Ca- Can I help you?”

“Odasaku and I are going to explore the city.”

“Have fun, then.”

“Want to come with us?”

“My apologies but I really can’t come with you right now.”

“Do you have something to do?”

“No, but -”

“Then, there is no problem. Come on!”

A hand sneaked inside his warm bed covers.  Its temperature could compare to an iceberg’s. Not something pleasant to come upon when you wanted to relax.

Before he could screech in outrage, he felt it pull him away from the comfort of his futon. Atsushi clawed at his futon in the hope to stay protected but in vain. For such a thin person, Dazai had more strength than it first appeared. Stubbornness too since no matter how hard Atsushi’s other foot kicked him, he refused to let go.

“Good fighting spirit but I won’t lose !” Dazai proclaimed.

And with one final push Atsushi’s face met the hard floor.

“Now, get ready, Atsushi-kun, for we are going on a great adventure !”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No, you don’t.”

Dazai’s smile had widened so much he could have passed for the Cheshire Cat. He patted Atsushi’s hair softly and with one more smile he went out of the room but added before :

“Get dressed, Atsushi-kun. Stimulating your mind from time to time is a good thing.”

Once fully clothed, he found Oda outside. The older man sent him a sorry smile as Dazai complained about how long he had taken to get ready.

“I’m sorry if it sounds rude but shouldn’t you be at work?” Atsushi wondered.

“He is working.” Dazai said while pointing at the cast around his arm. “Odasaku is my bodyguard for the day.”

Once again, he felt shivers run through his body. Few jobs necessitated to have this kind of protection.

Without wanting to, he had fallen into quite a troublesome situation.

“Now, gentlemen, let’s go.” Dazai cheerfully said.

“Are you sure it is safe to bring him here?” Odasaku whispered as they walked toward the shopping district.

“It will be fine, nothing should happen.”

His friend nodded as the worry in his eyes faded.

You shouldn’t trust me this much, Odasaku. I’ll end up disappointing you.

A hand caught his arm. His head rose up and met an intense stare from his friend.

“I know you’re planning something.” He said. “But I also know you’re not actively trying to hurt Nakajima. Don’t worry, Dazai.”

“I’m the epitome of calmness, Odasaku.”

Nakajima Atsushi was a strange kid, Dazai quickly realized (again).

As they travelled through the city, he would often stop and write in his notebook as he stared with wonder at whatever was in front of him. When he had looked over his shoulder, he had seen nothing but gibberish which didn’t make any sense.

It didn’t seem to faze Odasaku. When Atsushi had done it for the first time he had merely watched and hadn’t said anything as if it was perfectly normal.

Was it some weird habit of writers he couldn’t understand?

Another strange habit was how he had tried to escape when Odasaku had proposed to buy him a drink. Why would someone react so violently because of a bottle of green tea?

This, associated to what he had discovered at the orphanage told him enough about the kid than he needed. Only one last information and he would have enough datas.

As they entered a bookshop he saw Atsushi stiffen.

“Is there anything wrong, Nakajima?”

“No, not at all. Do you mind if I take a look around?”

“Of course not, we have time.”

Odasaku followed him. Protectiveness or curiosity about his favorite author? Good question.

Dazai looked at his best friend as he talked with the kid about literature. It had been a while since he had looked so happy.

Romance. Thriller. Pseudo Psychology.

Nothing which went well with his style or which really interested him. Great.

Atsushi forced himself to read the summary of the best seller of the week, a book titled : A mysterious Girl . He had read a few books of this particular writer. They always followed the same pattern which after a while destroyed the novelist’s style. Solid writing was important but remained superficial if the plot didn’t follow.

I’ll never be able to write something like that.

He liked thriller, even loved it sometimes but he didn’t want to write them. Romance by itself was often boring (apart from a few exceptions) and psychology, well…

At twelve years old, how was he supposed to give life advice? He didn’t know enough to really help this way.

“I didn’t know you liked this kind of story.” Oda commented behind him.

“They are not my cup of tea.” He admitted. “But it’s never too late to broaden your horizon, right?”

The uncertain look he got perfectly mirrored his own thoughts.

He didn’t like those books or even worse, he was indifferent toward them. Yet, Tanaka wanted him to write something like those?

“You don’t seem well.” Oda said.

“I feel-”

As he was about to keep talking, a smell interrupted him. It reminded him of a dying fire, when the last sparks of red faded away in the dark. A mix of smoke and burnt wood.

He turned around. Where did it come from?

A few meters away, a young woman was busy reading a poetry collection. Tears came down her face as she closed it and put it away.

For a moment, their eyes met. She -

“Nakajima?”

“Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts.”

“That’s okay. Are you going to buy it?”

“Y- Yes, I am.”

They came out after this. Oda had bought a book from Robert Louis Stevenson. Atsushi wasn’t drooling over it. Not at all.

“I’ll lend it to you once I am done.” The older said.

“Thank you.”

Outside, an unexpected awaited them. Dazai kept jumping from right to left as a red haired young man kept trying to kick him.

“Will you remain still, you damn bastard?”

“Chuuya is getting slower. Must be old age.” Dazai singsonged as he avoided a nasty strike which would have robbed him from his front teeth.

“I’m going to show you “old age”, you fucking jerk.”

Passerbys watched them with a mix of amusement and displeasure as the two young men kept wreaking havoc in the street.

“Is Dazai-san okay?”

“Don’t worry, they’re always like that.”

It didn’t really make him feel better.

The newcomer jumped forward and barely missed Dazai. HIs fist met a wall. When he took it away : a hole as big as a football.

“He didn’t forget to hold back this time.” Oda commented.

That’s holding back?

“I said stop moving !”

“Oda-san, why is he so angry?”

“I don’t know. Probably because of something Dazai said.”

“You’re my dog ! You shouldn’t be trying to hit me every time.” The young executive whined.

“I’d rather die.” Another wall fell victim to his fury.

Some people had started to film the whole fight. Did they not see it wasn’t a joke?

Dazai burst into laughter.

Okay, he understood why no one was taking the situation seriously.

“They’re attracting a lot of attention.” Oda noticed.

“Is it bad?”

“It’s not something Dazai would do without a plan.” He conceded.

Instinctively, his body moved toward Atsushi so the boy would be closer. If something was to happen, he would need protection.

After a moment, the two teenagers calmed down and came toward them. A deep flush of exasperation could still be seen on Chuuya’s face.

“Nakahara.” He saluted.

“Oda. Still dealing with the mackerel’s bullshit?”.

“Well, someone has to.” He said lightly.

No teasing could have sounded fonder. It was another proof of how much Dazai and Oda shared a strong bond. As Dazai’s fake hurt exploded, Chuuya and Oda exchanged a silent conversation. Atsushi would have been unable to interpret it.

That’s when the new boy noticed him. Scrutinizing azure eyes fixed him. If seeing him fight was terrifying, it was nothing in comparaison of having his whole attention.

“Who are you?”

“Na-Nakajima Atsushi. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nakahara Chuuya. You took another charity case?” He grumbled to his partner.

You would have had to be deaf in order not to hear Dazai’s laughters.  

“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Soon, you’ll regret your words and I’m waiting for this moment.”

“You make even less sense than usual. Congrats, I guess.”

However, discomfort and suspicion had appeared. Dazai often liked to provoc him without any reason. Seeing Chuuya worry about nothing had some kind of interest he could quite fathom. But, it seemed different right now.

Suddenly, his conversation with Prof Specs came back to his mind.

"for such a young kid to be a writer"

“Please, tell me I’m wrong.”

“You know I’ll never lie to you, Chuu-ya ~”

“I hate you so fucking damn much.”

The two last days, the two of them had had to deal with a rival gang. It would have been easy had they not put their hands on high level weapons. A dozen of their subordinates had been killed. Dazai got a broken arm and Chuuya a very strong need to hit the wall with his head.

He had collapsed and had been woken up by an annoying buzz from his phone. The text received was the following :

Hello, little hatrack ! How is the weather down there?

Have you faded out of existence yet? If you haven’t, go to this address [position] as soon as possible !!! You’ll see something interesting. No I’m not talking about poor quality hats. Get your mind out of the gutter. Something really interesting !!!

If you have indeed faded out of existence well… see you in hell! I’ll be allowed to annoy you for the rest of eternity. Can’t wait (ᗒᗨᗕ)(＾▽＾)(◕⍸ ◕✿)

In his exhaustion, Chuuya had written a very eloquent answer :

Fuck you. Seriously how can you be so fucking annoying?

Dazai, always the same, had replied :

(∩^o^)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Killing him would be too nice of a punishment. Chuuya had a ten pages long list of things he would do to him before achieving him.

Despite his foul mood, he had exited his room and went to the place indicated. They were partners but didn’t communicate more than needed. If Dazai had written to him, it was important.

Right now, as he stared at a too thin and scared kid, he wondered if he hadn’t done it just for this to happen. If he hadn’t woken up so early he would have never been so rough and Dazai knew it. The jerk.

Words refused to get out of his mouth.

“Chuuya looks like a fish.” Dazai snickered.

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

Oda and Atsushi were still watching them. The older had a small almost invisible amused light in his eyes. Of course he would find the situation funny, he wasn’t friend with the bastard for nothing.

“Listen…” God, those scared purple eyes. Hello, guilt, nice to see you again. “Hum…”

“Wow, you’re terrible at it.” Dazai commented as Oda nodded.

“You, shut the trash hole you call a mouth !” Chuuya tsked.

“Rude. What is Atsushi-kun going to think?”

At this moment, Chuuya realized two things :

Firstly, he’d never be able to have a real conversation with the author if Dazai was still here.

Secondly, he had always been more focused on action rather than thoughts. He wouldn’t change today. Brawn instead of brain.

He put Atsushi on his shoulder and ran.

Mad cackles shook Dazai’s whole body. Oda waited for his friend to calm down and then asked:

“You knew this would happen?”

“Well, of course ! Chibi’s actions aren’t exactly hard to anticipate. When in a strenuous situation he’ll either attack or run away. Since Atsushi-kun was here he couldn’t allow himself to traumatize him even more since he respects him.”

“You wanted Nakahara to meet him.”

“Maybe.”

“It’s nice of you.”

“Why?”

“Well, thanks to you he met someone he admires.”

“Do I look like such a kind person?” He wondered aloud.

“You do, why?”

Warmth invaded his face but he managed to hide it.

Seriously Odasaku, don’t say this kind of thing…

“Because what just happened is only a part of my plan.”

Chuuya ran until they reached the central place. In its middle, a fountain stood surrounded by multi coloured flowers. It would have calming had he not been on someone he barely knew’s shoulder.

Why is it my life?

He was put down carefully which allowed him to have a better view of his kidnapper (?). His azure eyes didn’t look at him, his embarrassment obvious.

“Sorry for that.”

“T-That’s alright.”

“Stop looking as if I’m going to murder you. I just wanted to talk.” He ordered before sighing. “God, this stupid mackerel is right I’m terrible at this.” Then : “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t.”

A moment of silence. This whole situation couldn’t have been more awkward. Chuuya had never lived worse and he had once gotten his hair dyed by Dazai. Having almost rainbow hair for two months had been a nightmare. No enemy took you seriously when you looked like a cartoon character.

“So, you’re Tsukishiro Ren?” He asked after a moment of hesitation.

Now, that wasn’t a question he expected.

“Yes.”

“Didn’t think you would be a kid.”

“I know it is disappointing.”

“That’s not what I said. It’s just surprising, I guess. The subjects of your books made me think you were older.”

Atsushi thought about the scars adorning his back and his ribs. Decorations which wouldn’t leave him until his death.

“Experience and age aren’t as related as people like to think.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one. Can I buy you something to drink? It’ll be an apology for dragging you here.”

“There is no need to.”

“ ‘Should have known you’d say this. You look like the kind of person who won’t accept anything because they think they’ll be a burden. That’s stupid. Follow me.”

Nakahara Chuuya, Atsushi understood quickly, was like fire. He could both warm and burn but what he did he always did it with a passion no one could relate to.

As he talked to the young writer about his stories, about small details even he had started to forget, he felt joy blossoming inside of him.

Maybe I’m worth being read.

After a moment, the feared awaited question came :

“What are you currently working on?”

“Nothing for the moment. I’m still looking for ideas.”

“No inspiration?”

“My editor wants me to change what I write about.” Atsushi confessed.

“But why? Doesn’t it sell well? I checked how many of your short stories collection you sold. It’s good enough, right ?”

“For me it is, but he doesn’t seem satisfied.”

Chuuya stared at him for a moment. He bore the same bewildered expression that Atsushi had carried sooner. But more than this, pain could be read on his face. He didn’t want this to happen.

Considering his line of work, I didn’t expect him to be as affected as he is by this.

Yet, Atsushi couldn’t deny a part of him liked this turn of event. Sensei, Kunikida and his grandmother  then Oda and Chuuya.

Having people who cared was nice.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll manage somehow.”

“No way, I’m not letting you deal with it by yourselves. Don’t worry, I’ll-”

Before Chuuya could finish, a deep unpleasant smell came to his attention. Something was burning.

“Nakahara-san, we should-”

He didn’t manage to finish his warning.

The world burst into flames.

Red and oranges tongues were eating away at one of the closest building. From what remained of the front windows he could see it used to be an antiquity shop. Now, it only served as combustible for a fire which had no intention to stop.

“So interesting things are finally starting to happen.” Someone commented.

“Did you follow us?” Chuuya snarled.

“As if it was complicated. You can hardly be called discrete, chibi.” Dazai mocked.

“Is that what you wanted to see?” Oda asked as he pointed to the fire who was starting to spread to other shops.

“The boss wanted me to investigate. Some of our “associates” have found themselves in troublesome position. Most of them live around this street.”

“They should still be around. Let’s find them.”

“Is the hatrack giving orders now? How bold for someone who isn’t an executive.”

“Want me to punch you again?”

“O please, you didn’t even manage to-”

“They are going to get away if you keep fighting.” Oda commented.

“Shit, you’re right. Atsushi, you should stay here. Or maybe go- Wait, what are you doing?”

In front of them, a little girl stood. She looked lost and kept walking backward and forward.

“Are you alright?” Atsushi asked her softly. Her face was covered in tears.

“Daddy is still inside.”

Insi- O no !

It had been a few minutes since everything had started. Soon, the building would collapse, his foundations too damaged to maintain it. If he wanted to do something it had to be now.

I can’t do it. It’s impossible.

Someone like you can’t do anything.

The tiger growled.

“Mister?”

“Yes?”

“Is he gonna be okay?” She had to be around three or four years old. Maybe a little bit older.

Someone like you can’t do anything , the headmaster’s voice repeated. We’ll only know that if I try , he retorted.

Atsushi knew he didn’t have the confidence to do it but…

Many people had believed in him and in his capacities. He knew he would survive this. The tiger and he didn’t get along but the beast was still protective of him no matter what.

He could do it.

“Yes, he is.” Atsushi said to the child.

“Nakaji-”

Atsushi ran.

It felt like being inside the strange mix between a volcano and a nightmare. Everything was searing and suffocating. Around him he could see the remnants of objects which could have been beautiful before but which just looked downright terrifying at the moment. Stuffed animals and porcelain dolls didn’t look better when fire was devouring them.

Walking had never been this hard. Each step was painful. Most of the time, he didn’t even know where to put his feet in order not to get burnt.

Another problem was to find the man. Fortunately, his eyes had never betrayed him. When he opened them once again, white had turned into yellow and his human pupils became cat-like.

He is in the back shop.

His skin burnt and his lungs hated him. Smoke filled them and no matter how much he healed, it hurt. Tears fell down his face and with each of them it felt like a part of his life was leaving him.

Opening the door turned out to be a trial. When he finally managed it, his skin had taken a dark red colour. He brushed it away. He had endured worse.

“I have nothing against you, sir, but I have orders.” A soft voice whispered as he entered the back shop.

How could she be so calm at an instant like this?

Big brown eyes stared at him when she finally noticed him. It was the girl from the bookshop.

“What are you doing here?” She panicked.

He didn’t have the strength to answer back. He bent down and caught the man in front of him. Consciousness had almost left him.

“And he’s just a kid ! I can’t kill a kid ! I’m in trouble, so much trouble.” She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t budge when he left.

He had better things to do than listen to a pyromaniac.

Carrying him would be an almost herculean task but he could manage. Slowly, he brought him to the exit.

No air in his lungs, no real path to follow which wasn’t covered by burning ruins and a heat so violent it was as if he was being cooked.

Each part of his body had been strengthened by his ability. Thanks to it, he was able to reach his goal. Relief flooded in his body. That was until he heard it.

The building will not hold for much longer.

He only had a few meters left. Only a few meters and he could see the sunlight again. Real warmth instead of this inferno. Atsushi tried to move quicker.

It wasn’t enough.

He perceived with extreme clarity the moment when the place gave up. Cracks turned into snaps and that was it.

Stones were raining on them. Had he been alone, he might have a chance to avoid it but right now?

Would his healing even work if he was crushed like an ant? It was something he was probably about to find out.

Closer and closer. Nothing could stop them. He could already feel his bones break under the stones’ weight.

Closer and closer. He still remembered the little girl’s words.

Closer and closer. Maybe it would end quickly and not be painful..

“After all, she only asked me to destroy this place. It’s not my fault if you don’t die.”

A tornado of flames went over their head and projected the debris away from them. He turned back.

The young woman was watching them. Her brown hair flew behind like an imitation of the fire she had caused.

“Leave, now or I won’t be able to protect you this time.”

“T-Thank you.” He whispered. Talking was close to impossible.

“It’s my fault if this is happening. Don’t thank me, please, and leave.”

He tried to answer but his throat refused and he decided to nod toward her instead.

The smile she gave him was one of the saddest he had ever seen.

When he finally exited and joined a cooler, less painful world, someone was waiting for them. Oda’s hair was going in all sort of different directions and a strong agitation had invaded his eyes. He went as far away as possible from the former shop, delicately put the man down and once he had checked the man was still breathing, he walked toward Oda.

“Are you alright?” Atsushi inquired.

The man opened his mouth as if he didn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You- you…”

“Maybe you should sit. You’re really pale, Oda-sa-”

A pair of arms engulfed him and stuck to a muscled chest. It didn’t feel uncomfortable. Quite the contrary but Atsushi couldn’t understand why he was doing it.

“Is something wrong?”

“You’re probably the stupidest, bravest kid I have ever met. Don’t you ever do that again.” Oda ordered.

“I can’t apologize for what I did.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” Oda chuckled.

The same strong hands were holding him as if he was an anchor. As if he didn’t want him to disappear. Fingers ran through his hair. They were shorter now, the fire had latched onto them and if the tiger hadn’t helped he probably would have faced far worse consequences.

“We need to bring you to an hospital.”

“It’s not necessary. I’m fine.”

For sole answer, Oda moved away, took Atsushi’s arm and brought it in front of his eyes. His skin had taken an almost crayfish shade. Most of his hairs had darkened and he could see a rather nasty burnt on his leg now that he paid a real attention. His lungs were also tightening painfully in his chest which didn’t predict anything good.

“Adrenaline?” He wondered.

“It’s going to start hurting soon. Someone called an ambulance. It should take too long to arrive so stay as still as you can.” Oda acquiesced.

As Atsushi was about to protest - he was fine , in a few minutes most of his wounds would have disappeared - Chuuya and Dazai joined them.

“She ran away, the bitch.” Chuuya complained.

“That’s because you were too slow, chibi.” Dazai explained. “At least now we know what she looks like.”

“Say that again, you damn bas-”

“You’re still alive, Atsushi-kun, I thought for a moment we’d have to find you a nice green spot to bury you. That’s surprising.”

“Shut up, mackerel. You alright here?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s quite the stunt you pulled here.”

“I had the ability to help.” Atsushi said, his voice oddly resolved. “So I did.”

A moment of silence and then his interlocutor’s face contorted with distaste.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Chuuya kept cursing. “You managed to find the only person more suicidal than the mackerel.”

“I am offended.” Dazai smiled as his hand started messing with Atsushi’s hair. “He behaved like the perfect suicidal maniac without any of my influence.”

Coughs climbed up and Atsushi’s whole body started protesting as he felt his whole blood boil.

It hurt. Why have I stopped healing?

The tiger was no longer present in his head. He had disappeared like flowers during winter. Only fear and panic remained. The taste of copper invaded his mouth and his mind blurred. Without the strength of the beast, he couldn’t manage to stand any longer.

“Nakajima, are you al-”

His legs gave out as his mind disconnected from reality. Falling into the dark didn’t take more than a second.