#so i guess morse helps me to feel less uncomfortable

[jayssillycreativitybox]

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[burgerkang000]

Serve an ace through my heart

r

this is a Jongho fic and its pretty long so I'm gonna do the read more thing 

@beyoncesdragon   @aixy-hpsa(if anyone else wanna be tagged pls tell me!!!)

tumblr i hate u, u keep on eating my spaces TT-TT

Being out of your comfort zone; nobody likes that. For you, you never really got around into being comfortable with, well, a lot of things. And you never really saw what was wrong with that. You hear your friends talking about how they were dragged into doing things they never wanted to do, and they either end up loving it or hating it.

It wasn’t like you were entitled to sort out the uneasiness.

Right now, the uneasiness you felt towards playing volleyball is an example of something you didn’t want to sort out.

But the volleyball team was lacking, and the captain was looking for new players and training them separately, until their ready to join the team.

And you must have checked all the boxes for ‘volleyball player’, because the captain has been constantly nagging you to at least try it out.

And in a moment of fury, you had said no, you’re not interested, you’re afraid and uncomfortable.

And even though looking back on it, you felt that you were a bit harsh, but even so, you had thought that he was done bothering you.

But the next day Choi Jongho; the guy you spend YEARS pining comes up to you. And that’s new, because you’re sure he doesn’t know of your existence, and he says-

“Sometimes you have to do things that make you uncomfortable to actually like it”

And you don’t understand; you gape at him for what feels like centuries, as you haven’t caught on yet; for fucks sake the guy hasn’t even said hello.

And he sighs, as if he’s done with people not understanding him, and you blame exactly him for that because of the cryptic way he speaks, he could speak Morse code and you’d understand him better; and he begins to explain, as if that’s the most draining thing in the world.

And you think that this guy is getting less and less charming the more he opens his mouth (That is a lie).

“Play volleyball with us, join the team, you fit the qualities to be one, and its actually fun- not easy- but fun; and about the uncomfortable thing, sometimes you just need to get past the feeling, and then you can actually feel , once the cloud of poor judgement is out of your system.”

And he said a lot of things, he did, but somehow the moment you actually stop and say something you HAD to say-

“I have poor judgement?” and you blink up at him.

And let’s be honest here- scary looking, kind of jerk face, jock, probably bullied into asking you to join the volleyball team; totally would have said something along the lines of ‘of course, what do you expect your judgement to be? Reliable?’

But Jongho looked taken aback, sort of offended that you thought of him as lowly, as he aggressively shakes his head.

“I meant the being uncomfortable; it makes your judgement poor, and I would never say that, what kind of person do you take me to be?”

And you sigh and rub you’re temple. You can’t believe the fact that you’re actually considering this. It’s like the captain knows about your massive crush and is totally using it against you.

“I – well I – I’m not sure if I’ll like it.” You reply, fidgeting with the watch that has been strapped on your wrist.

HE sighs yet again (AGAIN) and says-

“Well, you’ll never know if you won’t try, I can give you a test run if you’d like.”

“Well uhh-“

“There are no girls on the team; we genuinely want people who think that girls can’t make it onto the team to change their mind-set.”

OK if anything can convince you, its woman empowerment, so you nod, and try to convince yourself that this is you’re part of showing support; and that watching hot sweaty guys (read: Choi Jongho)  play volleyball was just a plus side.

“Great, tomorrow, Gym, after school.”

And he leaves.

Where does he think he is in? High school musical?

“Tomorrow, Gym, after school” you mimic as you resume packing your stuff.

.

.

.

The school was empty and it was something you haven’t experienced before, other than the club people there was pin drop silence in the corridors, when you passed by the basketball court you could hear the aggressive squeaking and bouncing.

You had never really stayed behind after school, except that one time your whole class had failed on a test and all of you had to stay back for extra classes. But it was noisy then.

When you entered the gym, you spot Jongho and the captain talking. And once the captain notices you he smirks. The captain is evil, you think.

“So I thought you weren’t joining?”  He asks as he walks up to you.

You angrily mutter-

“Well, yeah, I’m here to watch”

You realise that you don’t know the captains name.

The captain chuckles and as he’s walking past you, you grab his arm and ask him.

“I didn’t get your name…”

“I can tell it to you if you join the team”

“I can ask someone here” you tighten the grip on his hand.

“….. Song Mingi”

You hum and let him go; he caresses his wrist, where red marks your tight hold of his hand.

“Oh don’t be so smug” he tells you.

“If anything it tells me you have good grip; that just makes me want you in the team so~ much more than the last time”

You poke your tongue out at him, because you’re a mature human being and walk towards the bleachers.

And after an hour of watching them play, you’ve gathered nothing.

All you think is that volleyball is cool. It makes the players look cool; and sure all of them are eye candy, but you’re eyes draw to Jongho more times than you would like to admit.

You can’t help it, the boy’s expression when he’s half crouched and waiting for actions makes you shiver, his hair sticking to his forehead, beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his neck, the slight exposure of his skin when he jumps or serves.

And you can’t get started on the guy’s thighs.

And you lied; the whole half of the game your eyes were trained on him, your mouth slightly agape as you watch him.

And if you knew you would have stopped, it was only when you were admiring Jongho drinking water that the captain- Song Mingi- decides to interrupt you.

You were in the middle of watching him gulp down water; sometimes he aggressively detaches the bottle from his mouth and takes sharp gulps of air before immediately bringing it back to his lips and gulping, and the water sometimes escapes from the corners of his mouth and-

Your soul has left your body, and you’re definitely drooling, and as you shuffle to get a more comfortable position and a better view, you feel a tap at your shoulder.

You shrug it off as being stupid, sometimes a hair moves a tiny inch on your body and your convinced it’s a spider, maybe it’s one of those times, and spider be damned, you’re looking at Choi Jongho in all his sweaty glory.

But then someone says-

“Like the view?”

And you startle backwards and see Mingi in stitches.

You look at him un-amused as he finishes up laughing, and once he’s done you want to hit him, but the thing is you have self-control. What you don’t have control over is how you want to stop watching some guy laughing and continue to stare at Jongho like he’s some interesting movie.

So you do exactly that only to find Jongho is dead on staring at you too, and you startle backwards yet again, hand flying towards your chest and hastily look away. And you can hear Mingi laughing again, then you look u to take a peek to see Jongho jogging up to you.

He’s panting and breathless and he smells like sweat, but he still manages to look drop dead gorgeous, he bends over hands on his knees and asks

“So…. Like volleyball yet?”

And he’s panting between his words; so it’s only kind enough to-

“Would you like some water?”

He nods, so you hand him your bottle and avert your eyes while he drinks, because they guy is right in front of you, and you don’t want to do anything stupid.

He hands you the bottle when he’s done,  swipes the back of his hand to get rid of the water that has clung to his lips and you’re eyes linger there more than necessary.

“So…?” he asks. Here he goes again with the cryptic speaking, you resist the urge to roll your eyes and you ask-

“So….?”

He sighs like he’s done with you and asks-

“So how do you like volleyball?”

“Oh... Umm its cool I guess, but I don’t think I can do all that- it looks hard”

“It’s a matter of practice”

“I don’t know”

“Maybe you shouldn’t join, if you’re this uncomfortable”

And you felt a pang of disappointment at that, as if you’ve let him down.

“I can try… to play- I mean”

He looks at you for a few moments and says-

“Great, be there tomorrow after school on the tracks; captain said I can train you”

He flashes a smile at you- gums and all, waves and hurry back to the game.

Something that caused you’re stomach to flutter was that he waved alright, walking backwards while you waved and smiled back, all the way to the centre of the gym until he hit the pole and sheepishly rubbed his head, waved one last time and let the game take over.

.

.

. 

The next day after school, you were in an empty track. You thought the track team would be there, but there was no one except Jongho and you.

You were told to run, and do all sorts of crazy exercises that you didn’t even know the name of. It was safe to say you were making demonic breathing noises through the whole ordeal, taking way too many water breaks and you looked far too messed up then you usually are. The uncomfortable feeling of sweat causing your clothes to cling to your body, and sweat trickling down the sides of your neck, was in fact not that uncomfortable. Quite the opposite; it was satisfactory, you think you look cool like those sports people in the ads, until you caught your reflection at a glass door and decided to not look again, and either way, you wouldn’t exercise for hours and NOT sweat.

And Jongho? He was pushing you through the whole thing, telling you what to do, how to do, basically training you; you haven’t even learnt one volleyball trick.

And you think this is hard.

Very hard.

But on the not so bright side, this time around you couldn’t stare at Jongho, every time he comes close; your heart does palpations, every time his skin comes in contact with yours, the warm sticky feeling made your stomach do summersaults.

And this continued on for a week. Yes, you, the most talented person when it comes to not doing any physical activity, did crazy exercise routines with a ball for Choi fucking Jongho, there’s no denying at this point. Even though you won’t voice it to him, Choi Jongho better be grateful or you’re going to die.

On the bright side, you and the team captain have been hanging out a lot lately, talking over coffees and homework and subtle smiles in corridors. And you voice it to him one day, of how Jongho should be grateful, because you can’t move your body.

“I must have been right to send Jongho to ask you then?” He says with a smug smile.

And you angrily mutter threats that hold no meaning and look away.

.

.

.

Even though it’s only been a month of training, and they want you to play.

And you’ve put all you’re arguments out on the table, and the team has shot all of them down as if it were that easy. But the whole idea of playing for the team, on a real match that counts, makes your gut churn and twist and tighten all at the same time.

And once all the members left, you see Jongho from the corner of your eye, sit next to you.

You feel his long, slender fingers rubbing you’re shoulder, probably for a soothing effect, that actually made the butterflies to flap and you didn’t really need that will all the churning, twisting and tightening happening down there.

And he says

“Calm down, ok” And you nod, but your attempts to calm down are useless, uneasiness clinging on to you.

Jongho sighs, and by now spending one month with him, you have noticed how he sighs a lot. In the past one moth, you both have been hanging out every chance you get, besides training.

It was really more calming, if you overlook the feelings on your side. Being with Jongho was calming, and knowing yourself, you usually are too busy trying to make memories you forget to live in the moment. But when you were with Jongho, you were pulled into the moment, in fact you were so into the moment, you haven’t even thought about making it a memory. And the plus side is you remember everything that happened when you’re with him. More than that there is this creeping feeling of how attached you’re growing to him that you will away for now.

One thing that makes your heart flutter every time is when he leaves, he walks backward, waving to you all the while, until he hits a pole, tree, human, pillar, or any object, then waves on last time and leaves.

.

.

.

You lost.

Great

You feel this intense mixture of dread and guilt.

It’s sad, it’s your first match but you’ve managed to lose for your team, because the other team could tell your inexperience, and even though you and Jongho had worked on your legs trembling while playing, you couldn’t control it out there.

There were people watching you so everything you did was a mess, every thrust was weaker than you thought, every opportunity was a lost one

You wanted to tell the team I told you so, but they didn’t look so bummed out, Mingi said some bullshit speech about how the team tried its best and it’s all about having fun anyways…

He also told you to take it easy.

But you felt like you were swallowing shards of glass, and breathing in iron fillings and as soon as the team left you could hold you’re tears back anymore, and it hurt because you were excited, and if it were not for you the team could have easily won, and you felt as if you shouldn’t have agreed to join in the first place, damn you Choi Jongho.

But really damn him; because he sat next to you and then one look at him was all it took for you to break down into sobs and he pulled you toward him, your face was snuggled up into his chest. And you were painfully stiff at first, until he started stroking you’re hair and whispering how its ok and how he’s proud of you and how you did well, and how everyone is proud of you and as you continued crying you were relaxing into his hold, which was stirring up warmth and you sobbed into his shirt for a really long time.

And when you were finally done, you looked up at him, and he was very close, like very, nose touching kind of close and you weren’t able to do anything but stare with wide eyes.

And was he getting closer?

And then there was no more distance between the both of you as a pair of lips captured yours, and at first your eyes were open and looking at Jongho’s closed ones, and soon enough he grew impatient and began prodding at your lips and you closed your eyes and kissed him back. Your heart was beating very fast, you wanted to swallow, but can you? Like is it allowed to swallow in a kiss, and it was painfully quiet all around you, until Jongho pulled away with a drawn out breath .You didn’t even have time to open your eyes, as a pair of lips part at your neck and he leaves open mouth kisses along the length of you neck, you hiss as he sucks particularly hard at a spot. He guides you to half lie down on the bench as he attacks your neck, and he scrapes his teeth along the attacked area and your hand shoots out to his shoulder, and he continues littering soft kisses and apologetic swipes of his tongue to sooth the pain. And soon enough he was back to sucking and nosing at your neck, and your grip on his shoulder tightens as you let out little mewls of satisfaction, at one point Jongho grunts and pulls away.

And you lie there and Jongho is back straddling you . His face hovers just above your ear, he says-

“I’m going to take you on a date and then we’re continuing this.” And it was so low and so husky that you can’t help the sound that gets past your lips.

He nips at your ear and crawls away from you.

You groan and cover your face in embarrassment before you say-

“Ok, let’s go on a date” And when you finally look at him, he’s beaming at you, and its blinding.

.

.

.

Your date was mostly looking at each other and you looking away every five seconds, giggling and then blushing.

And you were halfway through you’re drinks when you suddenly exclaim.

“I should lose more volleyball matches if I’m going to end up with really hot dates”

And Jongho looks at you with a pointed glare and asks

“Really?”

And you hum

And before you know it he was right in front of you, lips nipping at your ear again, and he says-

“No more volleyball for you”

And you giggle AGAIN, and he smiles at you. And you have got a good feeling about this, whatever you have got going on with Jongho.

.

.

.

[365days365movies]

February 2, 2021: Pretty Woman (1990)

ALL RISE FOR THE KING AND QUEEN OF ROMANCIA!

First, we bow to the Actor King of Romancia, Richard Gere. Gere is a DYNAMO of romantic movies, having starred in The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, American Gigolo, An Officer and a Gentleman, Sommersby, Autumn in New York, Chicago, Shall We Dance?, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. He was crowned king of this fictionation both because of his film prowess, and because DUDE HAS DATED A LOT OF FAMOUS PEOPLE GODDAMN

Second, we bow to the Actress Queen of Romancia, Julia Roberts.

Roberts’ resume is equally romantic, including films such as Notting Hill, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Eat Pray Love, Steel Magnolias, Mystic Pizza, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. She was crowned queen of this fictionation because, I mean...it’s Julia Roberts, man. Who else was gonna be queen, Meg Ryan? She’s too busy ruling the Holy Romance Empire.

Yes. Yes, I will be visiting the Holy Romance Empire soon.

Anyway, one of the advisors to this great land was the now sadly passed Garry Marshall, a seasoned romantic movie director, responsible for The Princess Diaries (and its terrible sequel), Beaches, Runaway Bride (shit, should I watch this one?), and those bad holiday romance movies from the late 2000′s. You know, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, Mother’s Day? Yeah, that’s the guy.

Marshall was appointed an advisor of Romancia because of his role as director of the film...you know.

Enough navel-gazing; let’s get into Pretty Woman, shall we? I, for one, am looking forward to venturing further into the land of Romancia! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at a party where...George Costanza?

Huh! Phil Stuckey (Jason Alexander), a lawyer and kind of an asshole, is romancing women at a party, held on the behalf of Edward Lewis (Richard Gere), a businessman from New York. However, he’s currently in California away from his unhappy girlfriend back east, who’s feeling a tad neglected by the constantly busy Edward.

Meanwhile, on a less-than-great side of town lives Vivian Ward (Julia Roberts), a prostitute working the mean streets of Hollywood. Making her way to the red-light district, she enters the Blue Banana Club (which is...a name, that’s for sure), where she finds her roommate Kit De Luca (Laura San Giacomo). Laura’s unfortunately spent their rent on drugs, during the height of the cocaine epidemic in Hollywood.

The two meet each other on the street, where Edward’s lost, and struggling with Phil’s stick-shift Lotus Espirit. She offers to give him directions for money, and he reluctantly accepts. She gets in, and guides him back to his hotel. As he struggles to drive, she displays her knowledge of cars from back home. He then offers to drive the car for him, and also shows her prowess as a driver. Which...is pretty neat.

He asks how much she makes in her profession, as the two roll up to his hotel. As they begin to part ways, he asks her instead to accompany him into the hotel. She’s about as charmed and gawky as I would be going into a sick-ass hotel like that. The elevator in it has a FUCKING SOFA INSIDE, YES PLEASE

Edward’s a little embarrassed by her gawking, but they quickly get past it. Edward’s graveyard-still complacency is contrasted by her manic pixie energy. Not that she’s a manic pixie dream girl...I think. It’s more of a “rock-and-balloon” relationship deal. When Vivian busts out the condoms (she’s a “safety-girl”), Edward instead says he wants to “talk.”

During this talk, it’s revealed that his girlfriend has officially broken up with him, leaving him conspicuously single. He asks if she can stay the entire night, and she agrees for a price, to which he gladly agrees. They spend the night getting to know each other, although Edward is doing business during much of it. And she’s watching TV, and it gives off these kinda weird daddy-daughter vibes (not kink-shaming, mind you), and it’s...mildly uncomfortable.

This quickly progresses into her beginning to seduce him, and the two presumably have sex. We cut away just before anything happens, though. Afterwards, Edward takes a shower, as Vivian falls asleep, taking her wig off for the first time.

The next morning, Edward talks to Phil about an upcoming business purchase, when Vivian walks into the room. He’s ordered breakfast for them. ALL OF THE BREAKFAST. Seriously, everything on the menu. Motherfucker, do you KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE ROOM SERVICE IS? WE GET IT YOU’RE RICH

He reveals just how rich he is, noting that he buys companies on the brink of failure, and then sells pieces of the companies he buys. Vivian equates this to a chop-shop, which seems extremely accurate. On another call, Phil tells him that it would be better if he had a date. And it looks like...he already has one.

Yeah, Phil “hires” Vivian to be his girlfriend for a week. For $3000, she accepts, and I feel just a little icky. And yet...I dunno, we’ll see. He’s doing this purely to avoid romantic attachment, which is a little weird, but understandable? Maybe?

At this point, we get one of the most iconic scenes in the film, as the uptight women at a Rodeo Drive store tell her to leave, like assholes. They’ll get their comeuppance, though. OHHHHHH, THEY’LL get it. This compounds when the hotel manager, Barnard “Barney” Thompson (Héctor Elizondo), questions her presence there. And while it seems that he’s going to kick her out, he actually helps her out with an outfit.

Meanwhile, Edward’s business deal begins to go somewhat south, until Edward takes advantage of GOVERNMENT CORRUPTION. Anyway, Vivian goes to a local department store, where Barney’s friend Bridget (Elinor Donahue) helps her out with a cocktail dress. When she heads back, Barney acts like a bro once again and teaches her proper etiquette, Emily Post style.

Edward heads back to the hotel, where Vivian is waiting for him. And she looks cuuuuuuuuuuute. Edward thinks so, too, and they head to the corporate dinner. There waitselderly businessman James Morse (Ralph Bellamy), and his grandson David (Alex Hyde-White). We get a taste of just how vicious of a businessman Edward is, and Vivian makes a much better impression on the Morses than Edward does. Also, Eddie’s kind of a sociopath, huh? Or, at least, he has some sociopathic tendencies. I dunno his pure emotionlessness is rubbing me a weird way.

After the dinner goes VIOLENTLY south, the two begin to relate to each other a bit more. He notes that he prefers not to bring emotion into business, although he apparently does like Mr. Morse. He also notes that his father died a month ago, but it doesn’t appear to affect him much. Still he heads downstairs to get some air. Later, Vivian gets the bellhop, Dennis (Patrick Richwood) to help her find him, and she does. He’s playing piano like a GODDAMN MANIAC HOLY SHIT! Just like, “Don’t mind me, I’m just playing an operetta to PUT THE KNIFE FEELINGS TO SLEEP IAMTHEZODIACKILLER.” This manic performance is followed by the two just...fuckin’ on the piano. They just FUCK IN THE LOUNGE RIGHT ON THAT PIANO JESUS CHRIST GUYS

The next morning, post-musex, they go to get outfits together, in which Gere buys a massive set of outfits, and we get the first makeover montage this month! He also flashes even more sociopathic flair with a clothing store owner, goddamn. And that’s...when we get the song.

I mean, we had to get this song in here at some point, right? She also engages in the most iconically HUGE moment of the film. You know what I’m talking about, and it’s beautifully cathartic, my Lord.

Meanwhile, at work, Edward’s starting to...lose it, I guess? As Phil’s encouraging him to close in on Morse for the kill, Edward’s beginning to grow a heart. And may I note that he’s been in this relationship for TWO DAYS. Jesus, buddy, you’ve really never had a meaningful relationship, huh? They eventually go to a polo match for business reasons, here Phil finally meets Vivian. Vivian also notices that none of the high-society people here seem like, well...friends.

Turns out that David Morse is one of the polo players, and Vivian starts to speak with him. Phil, meanwhile, notices this, and suspects her of being a corporate spy. And Edward, like an ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE, tells her that Vivian’s a prostitute. Phil LITERALLY IMMEDIATELY GOES AFTER HER, and solicits her like a fucking CREEP.

This obviously very much upsets her, and she chews Edward out back at the hotel. And the argument that follows IMMEDIATELY puts me on Vivian’s side, because Edward’s being a sociopathic douchenozzle. Goddamn. She rightfully wants to leave, and he just lets her. And here’s the real kicker; she doesn’t take the money.

And that’s when Edward sincerely apologizes to her, as best as he can. And yeah, he’s a little sociopathic, but I can see that the dude is trying? The two make up, and once again open up to each other. Edward starts to realize, in turn, that he legitimately has feelings for her. And we head into the third act of the film.

The next day, Edward leaves work early to go on a date with Vivian, and Phil asks if the date is with “the hooker.” And Edwards flashes him a look that’s just...knifey. I’m still not convinced he isn’t the Zodiac Killer. He takes her to an opera in San Francisco, before which we get this scene.

Adorable. God, I love Vivian. Also Dennis and Barney are the best, and they’re super fucking invested, and I am HERE for it. Their date to the opera is...sublime. Understand, my girlfriend and I watched this entire film together, and we’re both in love with Vivian and the opera after it. Imma take her to the opera on a date one of these days, I swear it.

That night, they play chess together, and Edward actually takes the following day off. He also actually sleeps in a bed for once, instead of going to work. And this is when my girlfriend the following phrase:

Is he sculpting her, or is she sculpting him?

OK, that fantastic question is one of the reasons we’re together, but also a very interesting point. Lemme explain here. This is very much a Pygmalion story in a few ways. While not a straight adaptation by any means, this film is definitely taking a few ideas from the Pygmalion trope. See, if you don’t know, Pygmalion’s a Greek myth about a sculptor who falls in love with his statue. It’s been adapted multiple times throughout the history of the arts, but the most prominent version of this was the stage musical My Fair Lady, famously adapted into a film starring Audrey Hepburn in 1964.

And again, a lot of adaptations of that, too. While Pretty Woman isn’t explicitly an adaptation of either work, the themes are still present in the work. So, yeah, it’s a good point. In this version, she’s changing him as much as he’s changing her. The sculpture is sculpting the sculptor. Which is cool.

And then, as we had that cute little revelation, Vivian tells Edward that she loves him. And OH FUCK. It’s the last day. And when he says he doesn’t want this to be the last of them together, she takes it as romantic. But when he essentially proposes making her a beck-and-call girl, putting her up in an apartment and hooking her up with dresses...she’s understandably not interested. She says that, as a little girl, she dreamed of a white knight that would sweep her off her feet and take her away. But Edward isn’t that knight.

Have I mentioned how much I love Vivian? Because Vivian’s fuckin’ fantastic, Jesus Christ.

Edward decides to leave, and says that he’s done all he can at this point. He leaves, and she’s shattered. Kit, meanwhile, comes to visit her at the hotel, and she admits that she’s fallen in love with him. While Kit’s initially worried about it, she says that they could maybe settle down and buy some diamonds and a horse. I also love Kit.

Meanwhile, at the meeting with Mr. Morse, Edward turns the tables on Phil and his yes-men, and asks to speak with Mr. Morse alone. Phil’s gobsmacked by this, but agrees. Once they’re alone, Edward admits that he no longer wishes to buy his company and destroy it. Instead, he wants to help him rebuild his company. And Morse agrees, telling Edward that he’s proud of him.

Phil, EXTREMELY irritated by this, and decided to make his way to talk to Edward at the hotel. And that’s when he finds Vivian. FUUUUUUUUCK. As expected, Phil tries to r*pe her, and that’s when Edward shows up, and BEATS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM.

Edward tells Phil off, calling him an EVEN BIGGER sociopath than he is, and kicks him out. Friendship ended with Phil. Now Vivian is his best friend. But despite this, Vivian still realizes that their relationship, at least the one she wants, seems impossible. Conceding, and on his way back to New York now, Edward pays her, and tells her to call him if she ever needs anything. 

But he asks her to stay one more night with him, not because of money...BUT BECAUSE OF LOVE. And she replies that she can’t...and they part ways. Vivian goes to say goodbye to Barney, who still rules. He calls a cab for her, and says that she can visit them anytime. My girlfriend says that she would leave me for Barney, and I agree. I agree so much, because she deserves the best, and the best is Barney, and I could never BE Barney. 

I could never be Barney.

It’s over now, as the song in the background says, and Edward laments his lost relationship as the thunder rolls in. Vivian decides to finally go to San Francisco, and finish high school, inspired by Edward’s love and faith for her. She passes that faith onto Kit as she says goodbye. Fuuuuuuck, man, this goodbye hurts as well.

Edward goes to the lobby, and talks to Barney one last time. AND BARNEY TELLS EDWARD WHERE VIVIAN WENT, LIKE A GODDAMN CHAMPION. WHY CAN’T I BE AS PERFECT AS BARNEY????

He makes his way to her apartment, and buys flowers from a woman with a Cockney accent, WHICH IS A MY FAIR LADY REFERNCE! HOLY SHIT! He arrives in a white limo at her place, overcomes his fear of heights and climbs a fire escape in a metaphorical tower to rescue his princess. 

THAT’S HOLLYWOOD, BABY! And it’s Pretty Woman as well. That was a very heartwarming film, and I’m very glad that I watched it! Is it perfect? Ehhhhhhhh, see you at the Review.

[snowingstarlight]

Slip and Fall

AO3 Pairing: Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya Tag: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending TW: Suicide Attempt Chapter Two: Watch You Drown

I know words won’t take away your pain. But I’m here for you. When you feel like no one cares, I do. I’m here for you. When others judge, or criticize, or roll their eyes, I won’t. I’m here for you. If it’s 3 am and you don’t want to burden anyone, call me. I’m here for you. If it seems so dark and the walls are closing in, I’ll be your light and guide you. I’m here for you. If you feel like no one understands, I do. I’ve been there. And I’m here for you. When you can think of nothing good to say about yourself, I have a long list of good I see in you, right here for you. When you can think of no reason to go on, I will be your reason. I need to be here for you. When you are upset for no reason, you don’t need to give me a reason to be here for you. When you don’t want advice or a lecture, and you just need someone to sit with you, I’ll sit here with you. When you feel like you have failed, you haven’t. You were here for me. Now I’m here for you.

"I'm Here For You"

Author Unknown

Stark and blinding white was what greeted him when Dazai opened his eyes. For a few mute moments it seemed like reality had left, had he finally done it? But- the steady sound of a heart monitor beeped suddenly, breaking the silence and waves of disappointment and heartbreaking anguish washed over him as he registered that he was staring at the ceiling of a hospital room.

How? Why? He wanted to ask, but his throat hurt and his chest ached even more, and he couldn’t find it in him to voice it aloud even as he forcibly sat himself up. Dulled amber eyes looked around the room and his heart audibly thudded in surprise when Dazai realized he’d been in this hospital room before.

Many times before, in fact. For years Chuuya had dragged him to this hospital in the middle of Mafia territory - and with that realization did a choking noise leave the startled detective. Chuuya had saved him?

Why?

After all he had done to Chuuya, in the Mafia and after - why save him?

He was nothing but a cruel, twisted, and manipulative partner to Chuuya. Ever since they had met he'd done nothing but play the elder like a puppet on strings.

And Chuuya had let him, just as he had let Sheep parade him around as their leader when he'd been no such thing.

Dazai had expected to get bored of the smaller teen after a while, what he hadn't been expecting had been to actually care for Chuuya. He’d buried his budding feelings down far beneath as many masks and personas as he could, but the redhead always had a way to tear them down and so Dazai lied and lied and-

How long had he been lying to Chuuya’s face, and the other had known? How long had he been lying to himself?

In truth, leaving Chuuya behind had been Dazai's only regret in leaving the Port Mafia.

He hadn't known if Chuuya's loyalty to him or his loyalty to the Mafia had been stronger, and Dazai, the coward he was, had been too scared to find out. So, he’d left in a haste of emotions he didn’t know how to control and had planted a bomb in Chuuya’s car to convince Mori his partner had nothing to do with his disappearance, because Dazai didn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Chuuya because of him.

It was with great reluctance that Dazai let the nurses fuss over him for a minute after they had finally realized he was awake; he’d been staring dully out the window for far too long by then, lost in his own thoughts and wrapped up in - how’s, why’s, if’s, and so on.

Why had Chuuya chosen this hospital in particular? They would release Dazai without a care, after making sure he had enough strength to get on his feet; he’d broken out of his hospital too many times before for them to bother trying to put him on suicide watch any longer.

In fact, it was less than an hour later that Dazai was signing the release forms and stepping out into the Mafia territory he knew better than any other place in Yokohama. If his memory served him correctly - and indeed it did - then Odasaku’s grave was only a few blocks from here.

Dazai supposed he should tell his friend the good news, but it sat heavily in his stomach (which hurt like hell already, the twisted knots and aches of hunger only adding to the weight) as he padded down the streets. The world was as dull as it had been the day before; the colors blurring and greying as he followed the steps that his feet knew far too well. Idle chatter from the people around him was almost mute, the cars soundless and even the sun was nothing but a dot of light.

Oda’s grave was perhaps the brightest thing in his world as he finally allowed his tired legs to stop in front of it; Dazai nearly swaying on his feet as the exhaustion from the past twenty-four hours hit him, and yet… yet Dazai couldn’t bring himself to say anything to Oda.

Sorry for failing? I’m going to succeed next time? I’ll play the good detective until then?

Yet, when was going to be next time? As tempting as it was to throw himself off of the nearest and tallest building in the area, something twisted inside of his heart let him know that he wouldn’t -he’d been a burden on Chuuya with trying to kill himself yesterday, and Dazai… Dazai didn’t want to be a burden.

How long he stood there, the tree branches above him swaying in the breeze and rustling, he didn’t know… His legs ached, his stomach hurt, and his heart was beating far too loudly and quickly for his own comfort; taunting him, repeating over and over I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m-

Dazai jumped when a hand made contact with his arm, and turning swiftly he couldn’t help but sag a little in relief at seeing Chuuya standing there.

And suddenly Oda’s grave wasn’t the brightest colors in his life at the moment - Chuuya’s hair was so painfully bright Dazai had to fight the urge to close his eyes at the sight of the red hair, although it helped that Chuuya’s clothes were dulled in color. Mafia black, after all.

He still couldn’t find the breath to speak, but a soft tapping on his wrist had a wavering chuckle drawn out of him. He’d taught Chuuya Morse Code back when they were fifteen and learning to be partners; it had been something small between them that only they knew, and over time they’d gotten to quick and quiet at tapping to each other from across the room that they’d done it during meetings with Mori or Ane-san without getting caught.

Hirotsu had been the only one able to keep up with them, and even then it’d been a struggle for the many, they both knew. Yet, still, Morse had been their language, tapping wherever they could - walls, desks, plates, each other’s skin-

‘Come.’ Chuuya tapped onto his wrist now, soft but repeated,, and feeling like a newborn calf trying to find his legs, Dazai stumbled after the mafioso as Chuuya began to lead him away from the gravesite. How many turns and side-streets they took Dazai would mentally catalogue later, instead keeping his attention ahead of him - on Chuuya himself.

That stupid hat sat on his head, and from what Dazai could see of the Executive’s face, his lips were pressed together tightly and Dazai’s heart tugged uncomfortably in his chest - and it took a moment for him to recognize the feelings causing the pains as regret and guilt; it was his fault that look was on Chuuya’s face.

He was being a burden again, on the person he wished to be one the least.

‘Stop.’ Was tapped suddenly on his wrist, and Dazai startled as he realized that Chuuya was looking at him from the corner of his eye. It took a second for the man to realize they had both stopped walking, and the redhead was turning his head to stare Dazai down with lips pressed into a thin line. But Chuuya’s eyes were always honest no matter the expression the Executive had on his face, and hesitantly did Dazai let his amber meet soft grey. His heart stuttered at seeing the concern in them, and feeling ashamed and unworthy of such concern he let his gaze drop.

If there was anyone who knew Dazai as well as himself (and, quite honestly, probably better than) was Chuuya. Of course the chibi would know where his thoughts were drifting to, and automatically his lips curved to offer a smile, but a sharp and singular tap that was obviously a scold had the mask he'd begun to put up fall right back away.

Inhaling slowly, Dazai let a silent sigh fall from his lips as he nodded mutely; a silent agreement to not put up any of his masks in front of Chuuya, just like before... and there was a softer tap to his wrist before they started to walk again.

They were in front of an apartment building soon enough; and it took Dazai only half a second to realize it wasn’t one that he had known. So Chuuya had moved after Dazai had left? Well, that was expected, he supposed- he had placed the bomb underneath Chuuya’s car in front of the apartment building. The bomb had been big enough it’d destroy the car, but not the building or the people around it; now if the bombed car’s shrapnel had hurt anyone, well, that wasn’t directly his fault, yet the idea of it had begun to plague his mind after he’d start to grown to care about the public.

The building was one of the tallest in the area, and Dazai eyed the electronic lock for a moment as the redhead entered a passcode that Dazai knew he’d guess easily the next time he would visit Chuuya’s apartment - for now he knew where the chibi lived and undoubtedly he’d show up to annoy Chuuya - and the door beeped in conformation before opening.

Chuuya didn’t let go of his wrist as he led Dazai into the building, nor when they slipped into the elevator; there weren’t anyone in the lobby, and just by glancing around the building did Dazai doubt there were many people living in anyways - while it wasn’t Mafia territory, it was one of the richer parts of Yokohama that few could afford, and those who did likely used it as a vacation apartment.

Of course Chuuya lived in the penthouse, Dazai mused as he watched the elder hit the button for the top floor before he turned his head to look out of the glass windows in the elevator. The world seemed so small from up here, as the floor whizzed on by; would jumping from the roof kill him before he hit the ground?

It was a sudden itch to test the stupid thought that entered his mind, and Dazai shifted his wrist to instead grasp Chuuya’s hand - ignoring the sharp look Chuuya spared him - and quickly advereted his gaze from the windows, focusing instead on the numbers as they continued up.

Sixty-six floors later, they stepped out into the hallway; there was only one doorway in sight. A key was fished from Chuuya’s pocket, and he stepped first into the apartment before tugging Dazai in as well. It was furnished lavishly, the entryway and into the living room that Dazai could see; famous works of art hung on the walls, the couches looked so soft and were likely velvet in upholstery- a rack of hats stood just outside of the entryway but not quite into the living room, and that was where Chuuya settled his before finally tugging his hand away from Dazai.

It was like a lifeline had suddenly been cut away; immediately his chest began to hurt and it was getting hard to breathe, blood rushing into his ears as his eyesight darkened... before hands were pushing at the jacket on his shoulders and Dazai gasped as the cold of the door behind him registered against his back and those soft silver eyes were watching him in concern.

“Shit.” He could hear Chuuya mutter; the first words he’s heard from the chibi since their phone call and guilt washed over Dazai as it hit him again that Chuuya was concerned for him.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but a gloved hand clamped itself over his lips before he could- Chuuya was standing on the tips of his toes, scowling up at him. “Stop it, Osamu.” His body quivered at hearing his given name, and a whine left his throat before Dazai could fully stop it.

He didn’t deserve Chuuya’s concern, he didn’t deserve any pity… where was his pity when he had hurt people, when he had killed people so easily? So easily… he cared not, back then, nor could he fully feel remorse now for what he had done during that time; except for how he had easily and willingly hurt and used Chuuya.

Chuuya didn’t deserve to have a partner like him.

Slowly the gloved hand fell away and Dazai could register Chuuya saying something about needing to undress; and he let the other finish pushing away his jacket, focusing on merely breathing normally as Chuuya maintained contact this time, even if it was just the brushing of his hands against his sides or arms.

Dazai merely blinked and they were in Chuuya’s bedroom, the redhead’s own jacket and weird little half-coat discarded somewhere. He was stripping himself of the grey vest he wore over his dress shirt and Dazai was sitting on the edge of the large bed; he blinked slowly as he took in the sight of Chuuya’s bedroom - a large king-sized four-poster bed (so Chuuya’s style) dressed to the nines in what Dazai could only assume was egyptian cotton and oh the blankets were so soft…

When had he been stripped of his own shoes, pants, and shirt? Chuuya had left his bandages on, something Dazai would always be grateful about, and his boxers as well - speaking of such underthings, there was a hand on his chest pushing him back against the bed and suddenly Chuuya was straddling him.

His lips were still set into a frown, but there was more concern poured into his expression than earlier, and although Dazai could still feel the guilt washing over him in droves his own exhausted mind finally wore out what little strings had still yet to have been cut; and his world was blurry a moment later as tears stung in his eyes.

Hands gently pushed him further back onto the bed, softly prodding his side until Dazai was lying on his back and just a moment later the heavy weight of the Executive was lying on his chest and arms tucked themselves awkwardly around Dazai’s waist; the man’s breath hitching and a few hiccups escaped him as he recalled the very first time they’d done this.

It had started less than a month after Chuuya had joined the Mafia, the mafioso showing up at his bedroom door, beet red and grumbling something about not being able to sleep alone. Apparently Sheep had been one of those groups where people often bunked together - Chuuya had been mumbling something about roommates and snoring - and certainly Dazai had known his partner hadn’t been getting enough sleep, if the bags under his eyes weren’t enough of a clue, Chuuya had been on the edge of falling asleep at meetings more than once.

For some reason or another, he had let the redhead in and they ended up in Dazai’s full-sized bed on the opposite sides of the mattress, tossing half-hearted insults back and forth; although Dazai never teased him about needing this comfort.

For someone who flinched away from touches, who avoided skin contact as if it were the plague (he’d rather have the plague in truth) Dazai was touch-starved. Neither of them said anything or even acknowledged how they usually ended up cuddling in the morning - Dazai latched on to Chuuya like an octopus - or how Chuuya usually ended up sleeping well enough to drool onto Dazai’s shoulder.

It was something they fell into easily, when their missions ramped up and the migraines Chuuya got after using Corruption were soothed by having Dazai near; and whenever Dazai’s own mind ran circles around him and screamed so loud that he tried to kill himself to end them, Chuuya would drag him into his apartment and his bed and they’d stay there until they could slowly piece Dazai Osamu back together.

No Longer Human silenced the god in Chuuya’s head and Dazai got some human contact he didn’t completely hate; it was a win-win situation for the both of them on the better days.

Until Dazai had left, and there had been many sleepless nights for the both of them. How often had he ended up drinking sake until he fell asleep? Dazai couldn’t black out, and rarely did he get to the point he would’ve, but the alcohol made him sleepy and it helped; but it was a terrible coping mechanism.

He couldn’t imagine what Chuuya had gone through.

Even now, Dazai's arms had moved upwards, hands hovered uncertainly over Chuuya's shoulders as he was torn between pushing the Executive away, or pulling him close. Chuuya didn't deserve to be tainted by his inhumanity; yet, a little traitorous part of his mind whispered that Chuuya was already tainted. For The Tainted Sorrow was his ability, he housed a literal God inside of his body; and yet how many times had they found themselves like this?

How many times before had Chuuya drug him into his apartment and done what he was doing now? How many times had Chuuya been patient and far too kind, piecing his mind back together without even a single complaint?

As if sensing his hesitation (and undoubtedly he did), Chuuya shifted suddenly, rolling off of Dazai and onto his side on the bed, legs and arms pushing himself upwards. Dazai felt a hand gently prod his own side, and he rolled over to be met with Chuuya’s chest, blurry as it was as the man fought to keep from crying.

He hated losing control of his emotions - hell, he still didn’t know half the time how to cope with them, they were always so overwhelming and crushed him underneath their weight.

"Osamu." Chuuya's hands had moved along with the redhead. One hand came to cradle his head whilst the other ran its fingers through his hair. "Do… do you want to talk about it?"

No, he wanted to answer; how could he? He still honestly didn’t know fully what he was doing here, and perhaps that was the worst of these days - when he didn’t know how to function and needed a guiding hand and he still didn’t know why Chuuya was letting him do this nor why Chuuya was there and- and Dazai's brain whirled too fast for him to try and comprehend, and all that came out was a pathetic whimper. He buried his head into Chuuya’s chest and shook it, ears ringing loudly.

This was wrong. His mind insisted, the whispers and multiple voices slowly getting louder over his own screaming thoughts. He didn’t deserve compassion, he was nobody, nobody couldn’t trust anybody, and nobody ever needed comfort... but it was Chuuya.

Chuuya was one of the two people he’d always been able to open up to. You don’t deserve him. He could talk to Chuuya, but how would Chuuya react? He’d only confirm what you already know.

He doesn’t care about you.

He cares about No Longer Human.

He-

Fingers were suddenly pressing into a certain spot on his neck that Dazai loathed, just touching casually made it hurt like hell and it certainly hurt now, worse than it ever had before. Dazai whimpered aloud again, turning his head to bite into Chuuya’s sweater to keep from crying out and making anymore pathetic noises.

However, as Chuuya rubbed the tight knots out of his neck Dazai could feel the tension begin to leave his shoulders; it was like a wave of relief hit him as the pain slowly eased away. As things he hadn't realized he was tensed about melted away, eyelids drooped as the steady sound of Chuuya's heartbeat thumped beneath his ear, drowning out his own thoughts and the angry voices that’d been screaming.

Chuuya’s hand moved from his neck to slowly stroke down his back, and normally Dazai would flinch away from such contact - but it was Chuuya, and as much as Chuuya couldn’t deny him, Dazai couldn’t deny his partner either.

The darkness that claimed him tonight was welcoming and warm, the steady sound beneath his ear chasing away any nightmares that thought to plague him; leaving Dazai in blissful and swift blackness.

-

The bed was cold when he awoke, body aching and heart thumping too loudly for his own comfort as Dazai jolted awake. The sheets around him were soaked with sweat and Dazai felt nauseous as he sat up, biting his cheek as bile rose in his throat; belatedly he realized that he hadn’t eaten since the day before his latest attempt. 

A growling stomach seemed to agree with him, and even if food still didn't have an appetizing sound to it, Dazai reluctantly rolled over and slipped out of the bed. The spot next to him was cold, meaning Chuuya hadn't been in bed for a while. A glance at the clock on the nightstand told him it was the middle of the night - even if the darkness surrounding him and pale moonlight bleeding through the curtains hadn't already.

The late evening and deep into the night was the best time for the higher-ups in the Mafia to act; less people milling around to catch them in whatever job Mori had given them.

Chuuya had left him for work, hadn't he? Dazai didn't blame him, and wouldn't admit aloud the way his stomach twisted now wasn't because of his hunger.

The chili was a workaholic after all, was it really that surprising?

Dazai shuddered as he stepped into the hallway, the sweat from being overly warm as he swept made his skin damp and the air conditioning must've been left on, chilling him.

Hadn't Chuuya been fond of freezing out his apartment? Even if his bed had been stacked with an inhumane amount of blankets, and any seating in his apartment draped with a blanket or throw.

The detective was regretting not seeking out his shirt as a light coming peering out from underneath the cracks of a doorway just down the hall caught his attention and Dazai froze mid-step.

His mind was still not functioning properly - if it ever, he mused - and Dazai decided that, well, might as well face the music and if it was an intruder in Chuuya’s house, maybe they’d shoot him and put him out of his misery.

Worse was the idea that it was Chuuya. It wasn’t the bathroom, was it? No, he remembered there was an ensuite bathroom he hadn’t minded much attention to other than a passing glance as he had left the bedroom and without giving it too much thought he slowly stepped through the hallway before he opened the door.

Ah, the kitchen… it smelled heavenly, and the sound of Dazai’s stomach growling must’ve been loud enough for Chuuya to turn around and away from whatever was sizzling on the stove when he paused in the doorway - because Dazai knew he had opened the door silently not to get caught - and soft grey met melted amber.

“Hungry?” Mutely Dazai nodded, moving to sit at the carved mahogany table that had a few dishes already set upon it, and his stomach twinged at the idea of eating a full plate. “Good, get something to eat. I’m almost done with the eggs.”

“It’s not healthy to eat in the middle of the night, chibi. Aren’t you scared of gaining weight?” It was a gentle tease, and his lips twitched faintly at hearing Chuuya snort - and imagined him rolling his eyes - as Dazai looked over the options.

Oh? French breakfast this time? He mused as he snagged a few croissants off of one plate before pulling over the butter dish, eyeing his options of jam. Eggs were swiftly deposited onto a plate by the sounds of it, and only a moment later Chuuya joined him at the table while Dazai finally plucked a jar of strawberry preserves out of the small lineup to top on his croissant.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, the scraping of forks and knives against plates and dishes doing the most of the talking. It was… almost painfully awkward, and Dazai couldn’t help the thoughts that dug through his mind.

Was Chuuya regretting helping him? Why had Chuuya saved him in the first place? Wouldn’t his life be quieter with Dazai out of it? Certainly he wouldn’t have a way out of Corruption, but they’d gone four years without it, Dazai had no doubts that Mori could continue to find ways to avoid using the last resort.

"Chuuya." Dazai suddenly called out the other's name when the redhead had moved to deal with his empty plate, and it had just been placed upon the counter when Chuuya’s head snapped up. Deciding to no longer drag out the inevitable question, Dazai asked, "Why?"

It was the question he had asked each time Chuuya had stopped or saved him from his own serious suicide attempts; each time they ended up here, in Chuuya's apartment, eating breakfast as if Dazai hadnt had a mental breakdown less than twenty-four hours ago, or that he had spilled his heart out to Chuuya.

Each time he'd been given the same answer from a very furious redhead, "Because we're partners, bastard."

It was truthful enough, even if Dazai saw that it wasn't the complete truth by the way Chuuya's lips pressed tighter or the concern Dazai blatantly ignored that seeped into Chuuya's grey eyes and tone.

But, they were no longer partners; Dazai had betrayed the Mafia, shut Chuuya out of his life - even if only to try to protect his dog - and only once since the awkward and unstable truce had been made had Chuuya and Dazai seen each other: the night that Double Black had made an encore.

"Do I need to answer that?" Wasn't the answer Dazai was expecting, and the detective fell silent; which was confirmation enough, he felt, his eyelids slipping shut and lips twisting into a false smile. What he was expecting was the sound of a harsh exhale and maybe some ludicrous answer, what he wasn’t expecting was for a bare hand to be suddenly pressed against his cheek. 

He didn't dare open his eyes, heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest; he could feel it momentarily stop when the thumb brushed lightly against his cheek.

“If you didn’t want help you wouldn’t have used our codeword, Dazai.”

They had certain phrases and codewords that made sense to little others unless explained. Just like how “O’Granters of Dark Disgrace, you need not wake me Again,” was the trigger for Chuuya’s Corruption, so was “Rest now, Chuuya,” to destimulate his body after such a harrowing act to it.

Goodnight; it was to let Chuuya know that Dazai was exhausted - not just physically, but mentally as well. Goodnight; was a word that gave Chuuya a good warning that Dazai was about to try and take his life again. Goodnight; was never something they’d say directly to another - it was their version of goodbye, and they never said goodbye, only “See you later.”

Which may have been the reason that Dazai had teased the other by mentioning Snow White after being awakened by Chuuya during the whole scenario they called Dead Apple - because if his ex-partner hadn’t come when he did, well, Dazai wouldn’t be sitting across from him at the moment.

“I hadn’t meant to.” Dazai sighed, truly meaning it. In those last moments, he had wanted to say goodbye in the only way he knew how - he hadn’t had any intentions of letting Chuuya save him, he thought he’d been too far gone by that time, or that Chuuya had been far enough away.

“Doesn’t matter,” Chuuya said dismissively, thumb still brushing against his cheek. “It happened, and I’m taking the next week off and so are you.”

“Mori won’t let you,” Dazai warned as he finally allowed his eyes to open, heart racing at how close Chuuya was to him at the moment. The redhead was frowning at him, looking at him as if he was some odd puzzle he couldn’t quite solve even if they both knew Chuuya knew him so well and-

"Mori won't mind, not if it's for taking care of you." Dazai couldn't breathe, taking in the genutine answer from Chuuya - Mori should mind, Dazai was a traitor to the Mafia and even despite his many attempts at getting Dazai back, the man should’ve had his jaw crushed and three shots fired into his chest a long time ago so- so why?

Nobody cared about him- right?

But Chuuya saved him and now-

His sight was shaking and it took a second for Dazai to realize that he was shaking his head. “No,” he gasped, moving away from Chuuya and an almost hysterical laugh left the man. He had to get away- but he didn’t want to leave, he just… he… he needed space. “No… no… no.” Dazai’s back hit a wall, and he shuddered as the freezing wood met his bare skin, but he couldn’t help himself as he whimpered “No.”

It was too much.

"Osamu." It's soft, almost a whisper, like a prayer made for no one but him.

"Mori cares." He didn't expect him to-

"Hirotsu cares." -but was it beyond his fondness for just Soukoku, or the old boss?-

"Ane-San cares." -he audibly snorts at that, but a… a look from Chuuya silences him immediately-

"Akutugawa cares." -that look had Dazai trembling, heart racing in his chest and that weird burning in the corners of his eyes were back-

"I care."

-a sound like a wounded animal echoed around the room, and it took Dazai a full minute to realize it’d been him to make the noise.

The look Chuuya was giving him; a soft, oddly gentle look on the mafioso’s face, the way those steel grey eyes softened into something like liquid silver… he didn’t deserve such a look- he didn’t deserve to be looked at like he was something to be cared for - about - like a treasure.

Dazai felt like an animal trapped in a corner with no way out, and the urge to lash out was almost overpowering his deeply buried urge to be wanted.

But this was Chuuya, of all people, and Dazai knew he could… he could trust Chuuya. 

Another wounded sound left him as Dazai slid down and onto the floor, hands twisting into his own hair and tugging at it desperately. The thud of him hitting the floor suddenly startled Chuuya and the redhead was there in a moment, kneeling just in front of Dazai, his lips twisted into a frown and the way his brows furrowed was almost too cute-

“Chuuya.” Dazai didn’t know what to say - what could he say? “Chuuya.” Tears were rolling down his cheeks now, undoubtedly fat and ugly, salty and hot too as they reached his lips. Arms wrapped around him as Dazai’s fingers dug painfully into his own skin, nails digging deep enough to scratch and leave marks that would stick around for a few days.

“Osamu.”

Chuuya shouldn’t care about him - Dazai had done far too much bad to the elder for him to ever expect forgiveness… but Chuuya did. Chuuya cared for him - he could read Chuuya like an open book and vise versa; and he wasn’t lying about it.

Why?

When?

How?

The words echoed in his mind but his lips couldn’t move to form the questions, instead the detective repeated Chuuya’s name like a prayer as he was pressed against a hard chest with the gentlest of hands, one curling around his neck and the other pushing his hands away from his head (those hands which moved to bury themselves into Chuuya's clothing as Dazai's arms wrapped so tightly around Chuuya it must've been painful) and softly began to card his fingers through Dazai's messy locks soothingly as the man pressed his head against Chuuya's shoulder and allowed himself to fall apart in his partner's arms, tears continuing to fall.

His mind was falling apart again, shattering into pieces with these bits of knowledge - at knowing Chuuya cared - but deep within his mind there lay something Dazai hadn’t seen in… as long as he could recall.

Hope… hope that…

That in the end…

Everything would be okay.

Maybe not perfect, but… but Chuuya was there… so it would be okay. He’d patch him up like he always had…

And everything would be okay...

Because, at least, Chuuya cared.

[devilrising]

Fallen Draco Pt. 1

This follows a prompt written by @mymindsmadness

Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry.

Word Count: 3018

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic)

***

2nd March, 1998

It’s hard. It’s really, really hard, to know what I know and do nothing. Every day I wake up screaming, nightmares plaguing me in my sleep. Each morning I look in the mirror, and watch as my wings start to fade. Going from purest white, to a darker shade of grey. I’m losing feathers too. There’s a jar by my bed, and a couple others in a drawer, filled with them.

The day they started drooping, I became terrified. I knew what had caused it, but I didn’t want to think about. Angels are rarely men. And when they are, they don’t usually survive for very long. My life up until now was, rather dangerous. I always thought that if the war hadn’t killed me, I would’ve eventually died from being an angel. I guess it’s both.

Voldemort is in the living room of Malfoy Manor, discussing what the next move will be. Father is listening intently, and I’ve been banished to my room, so it must be vital. Maybe there’s new information. Maybe they are planning another battle. I hope I’m not asked to participate. I never asked to be a part of this. I wish I wasn’t. Mother has grown increasingly concerned recently. She is the only confidant I have. The only person I can talk to. Her once beautiful hair has rapidly been turning grey and warn. The wrinkles riddling her skin are more pronounced than last year, and she is

growing frail. I’m terrified of losing her, because that’s where I feel we’re heading.

A knock draws me across the room and towards my door. The wood is dark and thick, keeping up the illusion of no light in the Manor. When I twist the handle and pull the door towards me, I jump. It’s Voldemort. What’s he doing here? He takes in the surprise on my face, and a beam shows itself. On anyone else, I would say that it ‘lit up their face’. With the Dark Lord, however, it’s much more of a wicked, cruel, and insane look. Like he wants to saw my head off in a public courtyard. I cringe at the thought.

“I’ve been wondering, Draco.” I shudder and pray that it isn’t visible. “How would you feel about being a crucial part of the next battle?” Like I have any choice. Like he wouldn’t kill me on the spot if he questioned my loyalty.

“Of course, my lord,” I say as I drop into a bow.

“Wonderful! Would you like to join the meeting in the drawing room, then?”

“That would be much gracious of you, my lord.”

I receive no reply, just a hand on my shoulder as I walk down the corridor and into the room my father is in.

“You’re here, Draco. Glad. Take a seat over there.” Father gestures to a black leather armchair, and I sit on the very edge of the cushion. Voldemort strides in after me, and takes a seat opposite my father. He begins informing me about the recent decision to crash the Ministry. But not just any part of the Ministry. No, no, we need to be more ambitious than that. That’s predictable even. No. We are crashing the Unspeakables’ department.

Horror drips down my spine, but I smile and nod at the half-man in front of me. I tell him that I think it’s a marvellous idea, and will really persuade people to join the correct side of this war. In my head, I’m screaming. It’s the worst idea imaginable. Who knows what’s in that department? If someone was to so much as knock something, we could all be dead. What if someone was to wear a certain metal that reacted with an object? I can’t see this going at all well, but I sit in silence, a fake smile on my face.

***

9th March, 1998

I’m in over my head. I’ve known the next ploy for a week exactly, and have come up with every possible way this mission could fail. We could burn alive. Explode. Drown. Rapidly age. Turn into objects. Have the air sucked out of our bodies. The list is so long I forget the first few I wrote down. I have no idea why Voldemort decided the Unspeakable department was a good plan. But then again, when has he ever had a good plan?

The wind roars around my ears, and I can’t hear anything other than my pulse and hammering heart. Mountains are beautiful to look at, but to hike them? That’s another story entirely. But I needed to get away. I couldn’t bear to be in the same house as my father and Voldemort. The two men are positively insane. They both need a mental asylum.

I sweep my eyes over the ground below, and marvel at the scene stretched before me. The view from Skiddaw mountain is astonishing. I feel tiny in comparison to everything else I can see. I feel like I’m insignificant. A welcome emotion for me recently. The sky above me is dull and cloudy, but there is no rain falling today. It’s Monday, and I should be at Hogwarts, but I’ve been pulled out for the remainder of Seventh Year. Potter isn’t there anyway, so I wouldn’t be doing much. Studies became quite boring Sixth Year, if I’m being honest.

Potter. Apparently he is off in the world somewhere, trying to locate and destroy Horcruxes. I applaud him for trying, but there is no way he’ll survive that. Voldemort told me himself how difficult they are to find, and that to actually get a hold of them is practically impossible. I’ve tried to imagine where they would be, what they would be, but have always come up dry. I don’t know of a single place so dangerous. Potter must be out of his mind. Potter, Granger, Weasley, and his precious Order.

Suddenly no longer interested in the scenery below me, I turn around and walk over to the tree where I’ve laid all my things out. I sit on the emerald picnic rug, and bite into one of the apples I brought. The pink skin matches what colour I know my cheeks must be, and I hum with the sweet taste filling my mouth. The branches above me sway in the gentle breeze, and I’m reminded of autumn days in Third Year. Before everything started going south rapidly.

That was the year with Black escaping from Azkaban. The year with the stupid hypogriff breaking my arm. The year Granger punched me, and Potter laughed at me. Thankfully, that didn’t happen very often. My thoughts start straying back to life at Hogwarts, before the world turned a head. Before my family started to repeatedly fulfill “tasks” and “assignments”. Before I had to seclude myself from my friends, the rest of Slytherin, and before I had to push myself to the extremes of my magical capabilities.

The Vanishing Cupboard, the Unbreakable Vow, Dumbleodre’s death, and the Sectumsempra incident. Last year was a bitch. I can’t see this year being any improvement however. The plans that I’ve overheard (due to unfold in May) haunt me in my sleep. I don’t know what to do about it. I have no one to talk to. To tell how scared I am.

The wind starts picking up, and the emerald rug beneath me lifts up in the breeze. Although it’s no longer a breeze. It’s more like a blustery wind than anything else. Regardless, I decide that it’s probably for the better to leave Skiddaw mountain and return to the Manor. I use my wand and a complex charm my father taught me in order to pack up all my things. I watch as everything floats above the rug, which starts folding itself into a square. The food I didn’t eat flies into the basket I brought, neatly organised and sorted. Then the rug shrinks, and enters into the basket. The basket then shrinks itself, so now I can fit it in the pocket of my black skinny jeans. Happy with the charm, I nod to myself and pick up my Nimbus 2001 from where it was resting against the tree.

Even though the wind is brutal, I would rather fly the 475-ish kilometres back to Wiltshire, than accidentally apparate into a meeting again. That didn’t work out so well for me last time.

***

11th March, 1998

Life is getting worse. It’s harder and harder each day to tell myself that it will be okay. Two days ago, I was beaten into unconsciousness for arriving after my curfew. The wind had made it nearly impossible to fly, and I struggled the whole way to the Manor. Being the stubborn prat that I am, I was confident that I would make it back before 11pm. I shouldn’t have taken the risk.

As an added punishment, I am grounded to my room. But my father and Voldemort don’t do things by half. No. They have come up with specially designed wards to let them in, but to keep everyone else out. Not to mention, I physically can’t leave. If I try, I’m electrocuted until I pass out. If that happens four times, I’m instantly killed. I am forced to stay in my tiny, dark, uncomforting room for a week. The only thing I’m allowed to do is write letters. But I have no way of sending them out to anyone or anywhere. With no owl to carry them, I’m doomed. They deliberately let me write for help, knowing that I’m not stupid enough to actually do it.

Instead, I write stories, I draw woodland animals (and other more, uh, explicit ones, but those are burned immediately after completion). It’s relaxing. With nothing but ink and parchment, I waste away the hours in front of the fire. The warmth very welcome in the cold month March is shaping up to be. Eventually tired with ink, I grab down a book on puzzles from my shelves. The cover is faded, deep purple, the title written in silver thread. I’ve read this so many times, solved each riddle, word puzzle, and math problem, but I open it anyway.

The first one is easy. “.--. ..- --.. --.. .-.. . ... - .... .-. --- ..- --. .... --. . -. . .-. .- - .. --- -. ...” The problem is written in Morse code, and it takes less than a minute to have it decoded. “Puzzles Through Generations” is the title of the book, and I find it rather humorous that it’s also the first problem. I smile to myself, before diving headfirst into the book.

***

Later that same evening, I start to grow restless. With nothing else in my room, I’ve resorted to lying on my bed, face buried in a pillow. I don’t know what I’m doing with myself. Why I allowed myself to get into this mess. Why I even bothered coming back to the Manor. I wonder, not for the first time, why I’m given so much freedom. Well, except for right now, of course. I’m generally permitted all through the Manor and it’s grounds. I’m given unlimited access to anywhere on the continent, so long as I can be traced.

I always come to the same conclusion though. The two terrible excuses for men know I won’t leave. They know that I know that if I was to desert them, they would track me. Voldemort would employ thousands of Death Eaters to find me, and to bring me back to him to die at his hands. Hours of torture would occur, worsened because of my father. I would be considered a ‘traitor’. I have nothing wrong with that last bit, of course. But I wouldn’t want to leave my mother. She would surely be punished for my actions, and I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t ever forgive myself.

I stand up from the bed, pace over to the small bathroom joined to my bedroom, and stare at my reflection. I look ill. My hair is in shambles, strewn all over my face. It almost looks like Potter’s, except for the colours, which are starkly opposite. My eyes have sunken into my skin, dark rings under them. My complexion has become sickly pale, and I wonder when this happened. I’ve probably looked terrible for months, but been too busy with everything else (like surviving) to notice.

Trying desperately to salvage my appearance I cast a few simple charms. I straighten out my hair, making it fall neatly to my scalp. After struggling with my complexion for a while, I give up and move to my eyes. The bags are covered with a glamour that takes all of my energy. I’m so tired from the spells that I pad back to my bed and gladly fall asleep. In my dreams, I question why I was worn out so quickly, but pass it off as being trapped in a room with no sun, limited food and water, and lack of new oxygen.

***

15th March, 1998

I’m becoming desperate. I was let out of my room for an hour earlier this morning, and dragged outside into the sun and air. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, but it was better than nothing but artificial lights. Food was handed to me, and I greedily ate it, the first proper meal I’d had in six days. I didn’t think the occasional plate of unappetising gloop counted. After fifteen minutes, I was dragged back inside once again, and led into the drawing room where I first accepted the Dark Mark. I was then tortured for the remainder of the hour.

Legilimency was first. Voldemort did it himself. Digging through my memories to find any weakness he could find. He had eventually decided on one of Potter lunging at me, fury in his eyes. I was taunted with it for ages, before being placed under the Cruciatus Curse. It had been extreme pain, and I’m thankful it’s over now. Still, the sensation is fresh in my mind, and I’m being plagued by paranoia.

Desperation fills me just from the memory, and I silently panic at my desk. I need to get out of here. My wings are losing colour every day. Feathers have filled the jar next to my bed, and I’ve started a fourth. I need to get help immediately. I’m seriously starting to wonder how long I have left. As a male angel, I never should’ve lived this long. I should’ve died years ago. I stretch my fading wings out, and try to gently flutter them. No use. Instead, I watch as a single feather floats to the carpet beneath my feet.

Uncontrollable tears stream down my face, and it’s desperation that finally drives me to pick up a quill. It’s intense, urgent need that makes me pull a sheet of parchment from my stack. It’s in despair that I actually touch the inked quill to the parchment. I quickly pen a letter to the first person I can think of to save me. Shuddering, I use my wand to summon a muggle postage stamp from the hallway outside, slip it under the door, and stick it to the envelope I pulled from a drawer.

A shiver goes through me as I seal the letter in the envelope. I don’t know how to send it to him, until I remember about the bathroom. I cross the bedroom and turn the water on in the shower in order to cover any noise I might make. Then I drag a chair in from the bedroom, and place it directly beneath the air vent. Standing in the chair precariously, I unattach the grille from the ceiling and place it gently onto the white tiles. The gap is too small for anything but my hand to get through, and grin. There’s no way anyone will think I’ve used this air vent for anything. What’s the point after all?

Carefully, I place the letter into the vent opening and pull my wand from my pocket. Knowing I’ll be drained after this no matter what I do, I decide to use everything left in me to lurch the letter up. A shock of green particles shoot from my wand tip, and they push the letter up the vent. I watch as it disappears from view and into the kitchen vent. I start to track the letter with my mind. Following it as it flies through the deserted kitchen, and out of the window in the dining room. I know it’s made it out of the wards when the green barges into my wand again, knocking me of the chair I’m still standing on.

Now I can only hope that Potter replies. Or rather, that he doesn’t.

***

22nd March, 1998

It’s been a week now, and I’ve heard nothing from him. I have been let out of my room though. My wings have lost all of the pure white, and are now as dark as a raven. It’s quite striking, the dark colour of the few feathers I have left, against my sickly pale skin and platinum hair. I always thought that if I lost my wings, there would be a skeleton left to haunt me of the sins I had committed. Instead, there is nothing. The feathers aren’t attached to anything but air. Maybe it’s because of the extremity of the darkness encompassing me.

I no longer feel much at all, just longing to be saved. Even if it’s by my previous enemy.

***

24th March, 1998

My wings are totally gone. Vanished from existence. I feel awful. The steady stream of food, sun, water, and air being spoon-fed to me isn’t enough. My mother is blaming herself, and I can’t stand seeing her beyond herself. I start praying to a god I don’t believe in for Potter to arrive.

***

26th March, 1998

I threw up today. It’s been 24 days since this whole thing started. Scars have made themselves a home between my shoulder blades, permanently tormenting me. I wish not for the first time that I’d done something sooner. Before I was in over my head. Potter had better get here soon.

***

A/N: Next part will be out same time next week! If you want to be tagged in the next uploads, please tell me so you don’t miss out! 🥰

Masterlist — Next Part

[capriciouswrites]

For Grant/Jemma: “I know you’re horny. I can literally feel it. And it’s not helping me focus at all. So can’t you deal with it?”

This is crack. Utter, utter crack. Under the cut for vaguely risque stuff, I guess? I don’t know. Apparently I overshare. Enjoy!

It starts five days after her check in. It doesn’t alarm her at first, these things do happen, as much as people sometimes pretend they don't.

And it's fine. It's not like they've never been separated -- and for all the gossip she knows there is about him she does trust him completely so, she's not worried.

She unearths her vibrator from where she'd placed it last and she just, well, takes care of things when she has to.

Her vibrator is one of the rechargeable kinds, and it has about a twelve hour battery life when used on the lowest setting, though she's found it gets shorter when she amps the setting up.

She has to start charging it daily by the time her next check in happens. So maybe the message she delivers to Coulson, verbally, is not the sort of thing she should be saying to him but -- she is at her wits end and she cannot keep ruining her panties at HYDRA (she is becoming convinced some of the specialists have enhanced senses with how they leer at her on those days) while she is trying to find valuable Intel to keep him alive.

So she sends Coulson with a message.

Coulson doesn't want to take the message -- the look he gives her is so disappointed she almost reconsiders, but instead she just repeats it: "Tell Grant 'I know you're horny, I can literally feel it. And it’s not helping me focus at all. So can’t you deal with it?' Yes. Exactly in those words, he won't otherwise and I just -- ” She gives Coulson a look full of despair, "I cannot deal with it. This is awful. What happened?"

"Ah," says Coulson, in that way that means there's a lot more to the story then he's going to tell her, but she doesn't push because he follows up with a promise to tell Grant and that's all she really wants.

The problem doesn't get better. Not really.

But it turns out that running for your life from HYDRA can smother even second hand ardor and she doesn't find it quite as troublesome for a while. Admittedly, the fact that she has to leave her vibratory behind (probably for the best, she's fairly sure it was close to dead anyways) doesn't do her temper any favors, and when she shows back up at the base, Morse at her back, she has a bone to pick with her soulmate.

She can still feel the heat of it tingling under her skin as she rounds the corner where she can tell he's hiding -- he hadn't even come to greet her when she'd returned! She should've realized something was wrong then -- and she's pulled up short.

It's Grant alright, she's seen the photos of him when he first entered Ops. and that's about how old he looks.

"Wha--" she manages, before Skye has rounded the corner and has a grip on her elbow and is dragging her away.

"So," Skye says, voice so cheerful Jemma knows she's not going to like anything that comes after, "turns out Fitz was working on some thing-a-magig to help his memory issues, since the oxygen deprivation, also turns out that it looked a whole lot like a new ICER prototype -- the good news is that he's pretty sure he's close to reversing it!"

"What." Jemma stops, and Skye careens wildly for a moment when her grip slips on her arm and then she's straightening with a slightly manic grin.

"Yup, your soulmate is in the body of a, ah, I think he's seventeen? I honestly can't tell and he does the teenage sulk whenever someone asks him about it -- to be fair, that might just be Ward anyways, just, you know, less brooding when he's still go acne and hasn't quite grown into those shoulders yet."

Jemma puts a hand over her face and isn't sure if she's trying to keep from laughing or crying. Well. The usual levels of arousal make sense now, at least -- the last time she'd felt that from him was before she'd known him, though at that time the effects of his feelings had been significantly less prominent for her, being from such a great distance and without the full bond in place. So that about lines up.

It also means she really needs to invest in another vibrator and probably to go hide away until this all gets sorted out.

He's her soulmate, she's going to find him attractive regardless of anything else, but there's still something deeply unsettling to being attracted to a teenager (even if it is her soulmate in there, who is most assuredly not a teenager.)

"Right," she says, once she's regained her composure, and then she's turning on her heel to find Fitz so she can give him a piece of her mind, offer to help with this project and also badger him into making her a new vibrator. It's not one of the skills he's ever been proud of, but she's fairly sure that his ability to manufacture safe, waterproof and bloody brilliant sex-toys could easily supplement the lack of funding SHIELD has. (And if he won't make her one then she'll bring up that very point with Coulson, just to make sure everyone is as uncomfortable as she is right now.)

"So," says Skye as she catches up and speed walks next to her, "I heard you sent Coulson with a --"

"He is a male teenager, Skye, we are not talking about this."

"Right. Right. Of course," Skye maybe sees a little more of Jemma's soulmate in her expression than she's used to, because she cheerfully peels off down another corridor instead of continuing her questioning.

Jemma feels her lust spike and she swears and speeds up. Fitz needs to fix this now because she has a lot of aggression to work out on her soulmate -- once it's bloody legal for her to do again!

[askmicrowaveayem]

MAYEM: The Crossing Pt. 8

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

It was disconcerting to see Goop like that, but Kid knew he needed it, and just tried to help make his friend comfortable. Once Goop was asleep for sure, he pulled out the phone and put it on silent before texting Alphys.

‘Hey. We’re in the world for a little. Any news?’

--

A greeting came quickly after.

‘Hey!!! ^__^ How are things!? Good news here! No prototype but I think I might have an idea? :D’

--

‘Things are fine. Just stopping in to catch a nap for a few hours. What’s your idea? (This is Kid, by the way)’

--

The phone proceeded to explode with text messages, all a bit on the rambling side with plenty of emotes and exclamation points. They had mentioned using magic to feel instead, which was what she was going to try and had been studying a lot of magic books to get a grasp on it and might have figured out how to use magic as a conductor through something like a thermometer to give the illusion of feeling what the equipment was reading. It was still on paper and nothing was concrete, but it was something.

--

Kid bore the tide as best he could, trying to keep up and once or twice managing to send a text asking for clarification.

Mostly, though, he was relieved.

Alphy sounded really confident she could do something with this.

--

Only once the lengthy explanation was finished did she repeat her earlier question.

‘So how are things going?? Is he doing okay??’

--

It took Kid a long minute to realize he wasn’t reading about the new theory anymore.

‘Things are okay. Just wanted to rest up while the going was good in case we got stuck in a crazy world next (knowing our luck.) Goop is okay. Something spooked him in the last world so he’s just trying to rest up and hopefully he’ll be feeling better soon, but that’s the worst of it.’

--

‘Oh no! u_u Did he tell you what happened?’

--

‘No, he’s being private. We did talk a little bit though, and I think it helped some’

--

‘Ok! Well tell him I’m here if he ever wants to talk too, okay? n_n;;’

--

Kid grinned at the message.

‘Will do. You’re a great friend, Alphys :) ‘

‘(Did I do the face right?)’

--

‘Yes that’s a good start! ^_^ I’ll teach you more if you want sometime? Gaster didn’t seem to ever really want to learn them but I don’t think he really gets into the whole social texting thing. ^_^;;

How are you doing too anyway?’

--

‘Goop is bitter and stuck in his ways. Teach me faces so I can send them to him through morse code and watch him get frustrated.’

--

Alphys was very happy to have someone new to teach emoticons to. She ran through all of them she could think of, giving descriptions of what they meant for each one.

There were a lot.

She was happy to ramble on and on and on about them, even giving a few internet history lessons with a few on their origins.

--

Oh goodness.

Well… Gaster was happy that she was confident and excited about emoticons?

He made a mental note of a few that were interesting and finally sent off a text saying he should probably go, as he had to take a nap too, but it was good to talk with her and he was glad she was doing well.

--

Alphys gave him a long-winded goodbye and wished them both well.

Goop was still fast asleep even when the conversation had finished. He didn’t often get to relax in his own world and in a form he didn’t have to concentrate on keeping up. The emotions from the day had left him pretty rough around the edges too, which only made him more exhausted.

--

Kid didn’t wake him. He had a feeling that pitstops like these might be a good thing to make fairly regularly, at this rate, especially now that they were running into more and more upsetting, dangerous worlds, and… worlds like the last two, which weren’t so dangerous but…

Well. Anything that made Goop break down like that wasn’t exactly easy to deal with, all the same.

So Kid just sat beside him, waiting patiently for him to wake on his own.

--

All in all Goop would sleep for a good six hours, far more than he usually did. When he woke the puddle would twitch violently before swirling around, an opening peeking out to see where he was and what was going on around him.

--

Kid startled a little at the sudden, violent twitching, looking down at Goop. “You okay??”

--

The soul shifted to look at Kid. Despite his lack of any facial expression the void around him seemed tense somehow.

“Y̢eah.͠ ̶Į'm͠ ͠fi͠n̛e.̛” He said a little too quickly.

--

“That was very convincing,” Kid said, “What’s wrong?”

--

The tension melted a little more.

“... H̨a̸d͢ ́a̢ ̷dre͡am̡ ͏abo͢ut my c͡h͏il̢dhǫo̢d. ͡W͏o͢k̨e u͢p wi͞th͝ ev̶e͡ry҉t̨hi̛n͟g d̡a̵r͜k an͞d nǫt h͜a͟v͞i̴ng...͡” Goop trailed off, voice growing quiet. He didn’t finish the sentence, but it was clear where it was going.

Not having a body.

“G̨ot ̶s͡t͜a̢r͘tled ̛is ̢a̡lļ.̧”

--

Kid nodded, relaxing a little again as Goop became less tense.

“...ah. Yeah, that… that’d be a pretty startling difference.”

--

Goop was silent for a few moments.

“S̴o̧ h͢o͏w̶ ̷lon͜g͜ w͟as̴ ̵I ͢a̶sl̛ee͞p?̕”

--

“..about six hours,” Kid said, glancing around the room a moment before answering. “You were really tired.”

--

He made a whistling noise despite having no lips. Or mouth. “W̶ow.͞ S̀w̸a͟p ̵ti͠m͜e ͠I gu̢es͠ş?̸”

The void started to build up around his soul, arms bracing against the ground as a torso and head started to form.

--

Kid understood making his own voice, but he was kinda curious about that whistle.

“Sure. I won’t need too long. You feeling okay?”

--

“I think so.” Goop said, slowly standing before adding the details of his face and suit. “I’m going to work on something that grampster wanted if that’s alright while you’re sleeping.”

--

Kid nodded, and since he knew Goop was going to be working on something that would be able to distract him, he said, “Okay. And I contacted Alphys. She’s still confident her idea will work but there’s nothing for us to look at right now unless you want to read the details. And she says if you ever want to talk, she’ll be there if you’re having a rough day.”

--

He blinked and looked down at Kid. “Oh. Alright.” Goop managed a bit of a smile, “Did you tell her thanks for me?”

--

“I told her you would probably greately appreciate it,” Kid said, relaxing a bit and managing a smile back. He handed the phone over. “If you want to look.”

The conversation had been about Goop, so he had a right to know.

--

He took the phone. “Okay. Thanks.”

--

Kid nodded. “...Good luck with the favor.”

He curled up in the newly vacant spot.

--

Goop nodded and headed over to start working, grabbing one of the receivers to pull it apart and do what the old Gaster wanted in the time they had while Kid slept.

--

Kid didn’t sleep for very long. He’d had a lot of time to rest at the last world they were in, emotional distress aside.

He slept for about two hours, woke quietly, and slunk over to Goop’s work station without disturbing him.

--

Sometime during those two hours Goop had shed some of his void, setting it aside while he sat on the stool by his workbench, hunched over the communicator still modifying it. He didn’t quite look like Voidkid though, his skull a little more his own shape and his body less trying to simulate clothing and acting more as just a black placeholder to what would have been a bipedal form.

He looked more like a child version of himself than the little shattered clump of souls and didn’t seem to notice Kid wake up and walk over.

--

It was strange and a little uncomfortable to look at Goop and see a child, especially a familiar child, and… Kid decided the best course of action was probably to just not say anything or comment.

He found a place to sit down and let Goop get to a stopping place in his own time.

--

Goop would continue to work for a few moments before he turned to glance back at where Kid had been sleeping only to find that he was sat elsewhere.

He tried to hide his embarrassment and pulled the rest of his void back, quickly forming his regular body again but not doing so too quickly so as to not look as embarrassed as he felt.

--

Kid looked up as the void shifted around. “You don’t have to hurry,” he said.

--

“It’s fine.” Goop said, finishing up what he was doing before shoving the modified communicator into his chest.

“You sleep okay?”

--

Kid nodded, giving Goop a smile. “And you?”

--

“I guess.” Goop said with a lopsided smile and shrug.

He still felt a little embarrassed for being caught testing out being a kid.

“Is there anything we needed before heading off again?”

--

Kid didn’t mention it, and hoped that might soothe some of Goop’s nerves.

“Nothing but letting your kids know you’re alright if you haven’t already. We’re still fully stocked up, otherwise.”

--

“Ah, right.” Goop said, rummaging around for his phone before quickly texting back and forth a few times. He glanced over at Kid.

“You talk to yours?”

--

He shook his head and reached out for the unmodified scanner.

--

Goop handed it over.

--

For a little while, they both hunched over their respective devices, tapping away to their kids and getting caught up on distant news in their family’s lives.

Maybe they were just trying to delay from the nerves of going to the next world, though..

--

Goop caught up with both of his kids before telling them goodbye and putting the phone away for another time. Then he waited until Kid did the same.

--

Kid held onto the scanner, finished his own conversation, and looked up at Goop slowly.

“...so. Think our luck will hold..?”

...could they call the last two worlds lucky? He wanted to. They hadn’t been the sort of nightmare worlds that he remembered from before.

--

“It won’t now that you’ve said something.” Goop said flatly, even though he was joking. “Remember what happened after we got those bracelets?”

--

“Ugh,” Kid said, rubbing his eyes. “...let’s pretend I said nothing, then.”

He wanted to forget that argument, and that double-world, and that fear of Chara killing Goop’s children never existed.

He took a deep breath and tried to still himself, but just the thought of what lay ahead was enough to put him on edge.

--

Goop inhaled deeply and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before stepping into the machine. “Just gonna make a pitstop to hand this off and then off to the next.”

--

Kid nodded, “It’s finished, then?”

He followed Goop inside and found his spot.

--

“Yeah, wasn’t too hard to put together.” Goop shrugged, closing the door behind him before setting course for the world they had just left and jumping to it.

--

Kid just nodded. “I’m sure he’ll be glad.”

It was early, early morning when they arrived, before even Papyrus was awake. The house lights were dark.

--

Goop didn’t want to wake them.

He… didn’t actually want to talk much either.

He stood outside the back door and pulled out his notebook, scribbling down a note about how it worked and he hoped it was what the Gaster wanted. Then he teleported inside to set it on the kitchen table.

--

No one noticed. No one stirred. The house remained sound asleep, and Kid waited in the machine for his friend, fidgeting nervously.

--

Goop teleported back a moment later and closed the door to the machine. He offered Kid the best smile he could muster.

“We’ll be alright.”

Always the optimist, despite how nervous he was too.

He punched in the coordinates to the next world.

--

Kid nodded and braced himself for the jump.

They landed with a thud of dirt.

There was an explosion of sound outside as soon as they emerged in the other world.

Howling.

--

Fuck.

Goop looked at Kid with a wide eye before heading for the door, hand hovering on the handle.

He flung it open, ready for a fight.

--

Dogs.

They’d been caught off guard and were bounding away from the machine in a rush, fleeing--fleeing towards what looked like the horizon of Hotland.

Deep pits of magma dotted the dark landscape, and a skeleton-shaped body lay, trampled in the dust, coughing and wheezing.

He was alive.

--

Against what was probably his better judgement Goop rushed forward to the skeleton. “Hey! You alright?”

--

Kid followed him a step or two behind, head up and eyes wide, scanning the horizon for more attackers.

The skeleton groaned, looking a little battered but able to sit up on his own, despite the dusty pawprints on his clothes and face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…”

He froze very suddenly after speaking and turned to look up at Goop with wide, shocked eyes.

“...what the fuck.”

--

Goop blinked, then looked around nervously and retracted his hand.

“... Uhhh….”

--

The skeleton snatched the hand, feeling over it, and then felt all the rest of the way up Goop’s arm until he reached the face. And then he felt over Goop’s face, like he wasn’t sure it was real under his hands.

“UH,” Kid agreed.

--

Goop rippled and quickly yanked his arm away, almost pooling into a puddle before reforming behind Kid and shuddering.

“What the hell, man!?”

--

Kid spread his arms out protectively in front of Goop, scowling at the stranger despite his usual instincts.

“Sorry!!” The skeleton said, standing on two legs now and not appearing hurt, holding his hands up. As he looked them over, it was clear his shock had changed. Now he just looked ecstatic. “I mean, no, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you! I got ahead of myself, I’m sorry. I’m from another world, too!!”

--

Goop was still rippling and uneasy, for once not being ashamed of hiding behind Kid. He didn’t like being touched like that, especially not by a Gaster he didn’t even know.

“Y- wait what?” He asked, hunched down to peer over Kid’s shoulder even though he was taller.

--

Kid figured it was better to let Goop do the talking right now.

He was fairly lost.

The skeleton in front of them still looked ecstatic, though.

A little off-balance, but ecstatic.

“Yes! You are too, right? I haven’t met another monster like us in so long, you can’t even--achoo!--it’s been so, so weird and lonely, and I only really understand Gaster, and he never takes anything seriously, so I’m just! Here? But now there’s other people!!”

--

Goop glanced at Kid again before finally standing his full height.

“... Okay I’m really lost right now and this is usually the other way around.”

--

The skeleton deflated a little, looking a bit desperate, but didn’t know what to say either, shrugging helplessly at Goop.

“I’m not from here, I--” he sneezed again, “--ugh. ...I’m from another world and y...ou know what, fuck it, let’s just go to the lab.”

He turned promptly and started trotting towards the faint outline of the lab in the distance, right where it always was, clearly expecting Goop and Kid to follow.

--

Goop eyed Kid before leaning into the machine and pulling out the chip, then quickly starting the scanner before following.

--

Kid shugged helplessly, shaking his head, but followed a moment later.

The lab didn’t have a door out front like it usually would.

It had a small, arch-like entryway that Gaster had to duck down to enter through. Kid had to do much the same.

The inside of the lab smelled like dog.

There were chew toys, bones, and ripped stuffed animals everywhere, and Gaster was talking rapidly with a good sized, long-haired black dog with dark gums and a tightly curled tail.

The dog looked at them, panting excitedly.

“This is Gaster,” Gaster said.

The dog yipped. Gaster ‘ughed’ and wiped his nasal cavity again.

--

Goop stared at everything in the lab.

Stared at Gaster.

Then at Gaster…?

“... What.”

It wasn’t even a question.

--

“I told you,” Gaster said, gaze flat an unamused. “I’m not from this world! This is Gaster! Somehow??”

The… Gaster-dog yipped happily and rolled over.

Gaster sighed and rubbed his belly. “Yes you’re a good boy. Such a good boy. Oh my goodness.”

The back leg was going.

Kid stared.

--

Goop thrust his hands out towards Dogster. “What.”

He thrust his hands out towards the bones and toys. “What.”

He thrust his hands out towards the arch-shaped door. “WHAT.”

--

“Yes. They are dogs. Yes. I know. It’s adorable.”

As Dogster enjoyed his belly rub, a few more dogs poked their heads out of nowhere and trotted in through the doors, happily shoving up against Gaster in jealousy.

Gaster wordlessly started to scratch as many heads as he possibly could with only two hands.

“Please help me. I’m the only thing with hands in a world filled with dogs.”

--

“Okay, okay, hold on.” Goop covered his face and took a breath before gesturing down to Gaster.

“In this world everyone is… a dog…?”

--

“Everyone,” Gaster said, eyes wide and a little fuzzy around the edges. “It is the best and worst thing I’ve ever experienced.”

He promptly started violently sneezing, but kept diligently petting the small hoard of dogs around him.

--

“... You’re allergic? Are you kidding me?” Goop gestured outwardly.

--

“I’m allergic,” he confirmed, nodding, sneezing again and scratching a dog’s ears. “I ran out of medicine the first week. I’m--chsodasldfjkg--kind of used to it by now, I guess?”

Kid just stared at him.

...then, he got down and started petting the dogs, too.

--

Goop still didn’t join in. He had never had pets before. Well, chickens, but still.

“Okay, how did you get here?” He asked.

--

Kid hadn’t had pets before either, but…

Well… they just looked so happy when they got their ears scratched?? How could he say ‘no’ when Gaster only had two hands and there were so many waiting? So even if it was a little weird when he ended up petting Dogster, he dealt with it.

“Well, I opened a door in my lab one day,” Gaster said.

--

“... And when you stepped through you ended up here?” Goop finished, expression falling slightly.

--

Gaster nodded, being licked in the face by a curly-haired sandy dog.  

“Yes! And I haven’t been able to find a way back at all! Gaster’s been helping me, but it’s a little out of his expertise.

Dogster lifted a paw and put it on Kid’s shoulder.

“Oh my god he has little white toes on the underside,” Kid whispered.

--

Goop looked at the crowd of dogs, still way too many to be pet by only four hands, and sighed.

“One second.”

He turned and teleported back to the ship, coming back a moment later with his extra void and sat down, using the tendrils to pet the dogs.

“Is your world not that bad then? You wanna get back?”

--

“Hm?” the other said, not appearing at all bothered by the extra void tendrils. “Well, I-I’d like more scintillating conversation back, yes.”

--

“What’s your world like?” Goop asked, hoping to maybe narrow it down to a quadrant at the very least.

--

“U-um, well, there’s normal monsters around. W-we only really have one or so dogs like this, I think? I’ve only ever seen one little white one, other than the canine units. And the, uh, the places are all the same, but we have actual names for them instead of scent markers; Hotland, Snowdin, Waterfall--um…”

He seemed a little at a loss, only knowing his world was quite different and not fully sure what the other was looking for.

--

“Above ground? Below ground? After or before the war? During the war? How many humans have fallen down? Do you have kids?” Goop asked.

--

“Below Mt. Ebott, and, er, yes, the war with humans is long over, really dreadful thing that was; I haven’t heard of any fallen humans? And no, of course not, I was far too busy for that sort of thing.”

--

“How long have you been trapped underground? Were you born before or after monsters were sealed?”

--

“Um, I think we’re going on about a thousand years now?” Gaster said, tapping his jaw, not minding he’d just scratched a dog with it and he was allergic. There was no escape at this point. He’d long accepted he would be sneezing forever unless he could leave. “And I was born a bit before. Don’t remember much. Mostly just grumpy back then.”

One of the dogs wiggled onto his lap, tongue lolling out happily.

--

Gaster nodded and pulled out his notebook, flipping to a few pages and then to a clean page and writing something down, trying to narrow down the coordinates a little, although it was still like throwing a needle into a haystack and hoping to find it later.

“How far have you gotten to getting back home?”

--

“Not far,” Gaster said, scratching a dog’s neck. “I don’t really have any idea where to start.”

--

Goop glanced at Kid, “... Well. You’ve got us for three days and I can build a time machine, so… maybe the quickest way would be to figure out your soul frequency and give you the blueprints?”

--

Kid nodded, shrugging.

It seemed like a sound plan to him.

“What good would a time machine do, though?” Gaster asked, confused. “I-I mean, thank you for your help, but--”

“Oh, uh, it’s a bad time machine,” Kid said. “But it goes through dimensions very well!”

--

“‘Time machine’ sounds better than ‘interdimensional traveling ship’.” Goop said, flipping through to a few new pages so he could start writing the blueprints to his machine for the other Gaster.

--

“That doesn’t say anything about how reassuring it is, that says something about your naming abilities.”

All the same, he stayed beside the other Gaster, helping him pet dogs and ignoring the incessant sneezing. “How long have you been here?”

“Uhhhh a couple months at least,” Gaster said, rubbing his nasal cavity again.

--

Goop looked up at Kid and narrowed his eye. “Shhhh.”

--

“Look, I’m just saying. You and Asgore share at least one thing in common, and it’s probably your naming abilities.”

--

“I don’t even name anything though. That isn’t even a name. It’s just what it does.” Goop argued.

--

“But it’s not a time machine?” Kid said, rolling his eyes. “It’s a dimensional transport.”

--

“Yeah but I didn’t know I would be going to different dimensions when I first started calling it that. I thought I would just be jumping around in time.”

--

“But that’s not calling it what it is.”

--

Goop threw his pen at him. “Shut the fuck up I’m trying to write.”

--

Kid grinned and caught the pen, throwing it back.

“Yeah, yeah.”

--

The pen stuck into his shoulder, pulling inside before reappearing in his hand. He rolled his eyes at Kid and started to write again.

--

Kid sat with Gaster, talking with him some and trying to give him some of the conversation he’d… mentioned being denied.

It helped pass the time while Goop wrote.

--

It would take a long time for Goop to write the blueprints for the machine, turning from page to page and scribbling away, ripping a few off and flipping them back and forth.

He wouldn’t finish until that night.

--

Gaster didn’t seem to mind, having long lost any sense of time outside of the times the dogs tended to do things.

They brought out food later into the night, tails-wagging and looking very cheerful. Kid didn’t ask where the food came from, but Gaster ate it quite happily. Dogster fell asleep with his head on his bipedal double’s lap a while later.

--

When the blueprints were finished he stacked them together neatly and handed them over to the other Gaster. “Okay, there’s the blueprints for the-” He paused and looked Kid dead in the eyes. “-dimensional transport.”

--

Kidster gave a quiet applause.

--

“Shithead.” Goop said, but was smiling all the same.

--

“I am showing you my earnest support,” Kidster said.

--

“Thanks dear.”

--

“Anything to boost your ego, darling.”

--

After a moment Goop sighed and rubbed his face before standing. “Alright. I’m heading back to the machine to get his soul frequency. I’ll be right back.”

He turned and was gone, tendrils and all.

[laurabelle2930]

Every Life has a Moment 3/5 ~Olicity Fic

So here’s 3/5 and this time a lot of heavy emotions come out to play so yes I might be warning you to have a tissue handy. 

As always enjoy and you can read it here or on A03

“Past Issues”

Last time in Chapter two....

1 Year Later…

“You’re not asking me to marry you?” she squeaked from the floor of their shared home.

Oliver fell to his knees and wept openly, “Yeah baby I am…”

She gazed at him with tear filled eyes, “You wouldn’t be if I wasn’t pregnant…”

Oliver shook his head ruefully then placed the ring box on the ground between them, “When will you believe you mean everything to me?”

She sputtered as her palm flew to her stomach, “When I believe that you only loved me…”

Twelve hours before...

She heard his knuckles lightly rapping on the bathroom door while her forehead lay resting over the edge of the toilet seat. She grumbled in misery, “I’m okay baby it’s just my stomach again...” 

She heard his forehead inching down the door panes as he sighed gently, “Honey please just cancel the lunch. It’s just mom, and the social chair for the committee that they both want you to organize...” 

Felicity’s insides churned violently as the acid from her stomach coursed through her throat, she felt the burn before the stinging acid bit along her tongue moments before it came falling past her pale lips. Her body quivered as her stomach’s contents came up forcefully through her slight form. Oliver pleaded gingerly, “Felicity please just cancel the lunch, I’ll come home and we’ll go see Dr. Franklin.” 

“No...” she winced as the bile lingered in her raw throat. “You have the board member meeting today...” 

“So you’re more important than that!” he protested sharply. 

She let her body shudder in agony before her forehead once again fell over the seats rim. “I love you for that baby I do but I’ll just have mom take me okay?” she whined weakly as her stomach once again began to burn. 

She heard his gruff, “I’d rather be with you,” through the closed, thin door. She smiled slightly and called out, “I’d rather be with you too...” 

She could hear his smile when he quickly replied, “I’ll call you around 2 for an update baby...” 

“I’ll make sure the phones not on vibrate,” she replied before she heard his footsteps along their homes grey laminate floors. 

“I love you,” he called out quickly before he knew she’d no longer be in earshot. 

She screamed back, “I love you too,” before she let herself fall backwards into the comforting embrace of the cool, bathroom tiles. Her body’s tensed muscles eased the moment her spine felt the cold air from the ceiling vents brushing over her heated skin. She placed her hands over her stomach and growled towards the offending body part, “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Her stomach burped and gurgled but did nothing more in reply. She scoffed emptily and crossed her legs while her back remained on the floor. She heard the drip from the bathroom sink, she heard her downstairs neighbor’s blaring stereo system through the floors, and she even felt the vibration from the loud beat as she wondered aloud, “Could this be more than the flu?” 

She gave herself a mental quiz...which ended up being her wondering aloud to the bathroom walls. “Okay so when did we have unprotected sex?” she first thought as the music below her back continued to beat pleasantly along her elongated spine. Her first thought of course was the shower but that was more than six weeks ago and she’d only been feeling unwell for the past three days. She clicked her tongue along her lower teeth and drew a calendar along her stomach. Her cycle tended to be a bit irregular so she normally never really thought about when it started she just always knew that it did. 

She laughed to herself when she recalled the last time she’d felt like this...

It was about three days after the snow storm. Oliver’s fingers were tangled in her hair as she felt her slender body heave violently. He placed his free hand over her shoulders and whispered through her gnarled cries, “You know this is really not sexy...” 

She hiccupped in humor, “Really? You don’t find the sight of your best friend’s vomit to be an instant turn on?” 

He held his breath, “Ummm no...” he joked in his very nasal tone while she crinkled her disgusted nose. 

“Well you wanted a relationship,” she noted as he gently pulled her back and onto his lap. She curled into his chest with her face pointed outward while he put his chin over the crown of her head. His arms were anchored around her waist as he placed a timid kiss to her head. 

 “So you’re still just my best friend huh?” 

“What title would you prefer Oliver?” she groaned in mild if not faked annoyance. 

She felt his fingers pinching along her sides as his throaty laughs echoed through her tired body. “I was thinking girlfriend if that isn’t too much to ask...” 

Felicity bit at her lower lip in contemplation. “Well I’m a girl and I’m your friend...” she thought aloud. 

Oliver mused quietly, “And you’re the love of my life who I recently had sex with...” 

She elbowed him gently which still made him wince, “Ow...” while she breathed, “Do we really have to put a label on it this soon? Can’t I have like a trail period where I get to explore the item before I decide if I want to buy it?” 

“I feel like a set of steak knives Felicity,” he choked before kissing her hair gently. 

She couldn’t help the giggle that raced through her body, “I would have gone with dildo but hey I guess knives work too...” 

That remark led to his fingers trailing along her aching sides until her muscles cramped. He tickled her until they were both on their sides with her back still pressed firmly to his front. He laughed happily, “Seriously baby what do you want?” 

She laced their fingers then brought them to her stomach until their hands overlapped, “I want to be us, just you and me is that okay?” 

He nuzzled at the nape of her neck then breathed, “Yeah baby we can just be Oliver and Felicity...” 

She smiled slightly as her stomach finally began to settle. “You know I’m surprised you haven’t asked me...” she realized as they each fell into their unique rhythm of enjoyable silence. 

“Asked you what?” he mumbled against her skin. 

She placed her forehead along his bicep and sighed, “Well we had unprotected sex and now I’m sick so...” 

His nose nuzzled along the small hairs of her neck, “Please if you were pregnant I’d be the last to know,” he commented simply. 

She nodded in agreement, “Yeah that would trigger some issues for me...” 

“Exactly and anyways if you were pregnant I doubt you’d have morning sickness three days later...” 

Felicity wanted to smack her forehead when she realized how blind she’d been once the memory ended. She glanced around the black and white bathroom with brushed chrome finishing’s and groaned, “How the hell did I let this happen...” then promptly leaned upward and left the comfort of her floor and searched for her phone.

The hospital gown felt stiff, uncomfortable, and frankly itched as it lingered over tingling skin. “Relax Felicity, I’m almost done...” Dr. Franklin barked lowly as Felicity’s toes curled. 

“Well I’m sorry but I hate this damn gown, and frankly having your head between my legs is not exactly ideal!”

Rita bit back a laugh but still her words were said in great humor, “Well you can ease those toes sweetie I’m all done.” 

Felicity released her held breathes as the metal contraption of evil slid down her cervix and back towards the room’s cold air. Her body shuddered a bit when the instrument finally was freed. Her fingers tapped out what she swore was Morse code as she quickly tilted up her head. Rita’s kind, wrinkled smile appeared moments later as she slowly stood. “Well?” Felicity gulped, “Is it a cyst like I thought?”  

Rita had her first glove off and was working on the second one when she smiled, “No it’s the option you’re not willing to vocalize.” 

Felicity’s head fell back over the rigid pillow in defeat, “How far along am I?” she nearly cried as her hopes for something far less devastating were dashed.

Rita reached for her trembling hands and slowly grazed her thumb over her white knuckles. “About six weeks I’d guess,” she soothed. 

Her stomach plunged to her toes while Rita continued to gently stroke her hands. “Sweetie pregnancy doesn’t have to mean death,” she offered knowing Felicity’s history better than most. 

She nodded while her eyes filled with unshed tears, “Yeah that’s what the father will say when I finally find the courage to tell him.” 

Rita patted her hands gently once more then said, “Well now that we’ve confirmed your symptoms are due to a baby and not a cyst would you be willing let us take a picture of your little tyke?” 

“Can’t you just say sonogram?” Felicity pleaded with emptiness filling her crumbling soul. 

“Do you want Moira to be here?” Rita breathed as she prepared to stand. 

Felicity’s eyes flicked to the small machine before they flickered to the bottle of gel, “He deserves to know first but...” she chewed on her lips as always and internally debated her options. While Oliver deserved to be first person told he wouldn’t forgive her if she didn’t ask for help when she clearly was emotionally distressed. She felt the bile rising to her throat while she remained in her uncomfortable supine position. Rita was already lifting up a section of the gown to expose her still taut abdomen. She hesitated for another second before muttering, “I need my mom.” 

Rita smiled sadly then replied, “I’ll have her brought back okay?” 

Felicity nodded relived while her heart clenched in despair. Rita pressed the intercom as Felicity’s mind wandered to the moment her world truly changed...

The room was cold that much she remembered clearly. The bright iridescent bulbs burned her small eyes as a pair of strong hands dragged her through the hospitals off white halls. She blinked rapidly as her small five year old legs struggled to keep pace with the older paramedic’s stride. She hiccupped in fear when the man came to a grinding stop. “Where’s my mommy and daddy? Where’s my baby brother?” 

His blue eyes she later came to find were the reason that Oliver’s own always made her feel safe. His small lips curved sadly while he folded his tall, angular frame until he was crouched over his large feet. Felicity blinked away another stray tear as the man’s hand began to shake. She sniffed, “What’s wrong?” 

Those blue eyes slid closed while he sighed, “Something happened when they tried to deliver your baby brother...” 

His touch felt foreign, cold and frightening as she croaked, “I want my mommy...” 

The kind stranger tired to say something more in comfort but all he could say before a loud scream filled the waiting room was, “Sometimes things go wrong...” 

After that she saw the familiar sight of her father’s business partner and long time friend Robert Queen. Behind him was the source of the pained scream...behind him was his wife Moira. Felicity peered over the stranger’s shoulder as he too glanced towards the disturbance. He whispered, “Do you know them?” 

Felicity cocked her small head and narrowed her blurry eyes. The paramedic glanced over her tired face and smirked when he asked, “You normally wear glasses don’t you sweetie?” 

She bobbed her small head, “Yes but I was tired so mommy put them in her purse while I took a nap.” 

He grinned, “You’ve awfully smart for your age aren’t you?” 

Felicity shrugged her small shoulders and mumbled, “I guess so...” as the screaming woman approached. Her heels clacked along the cold, white floors like ice as it rained down over a metal roof. Her caramel voice melted through the tender moment as she scolded the kind stranger for his actions. 

“I pray you’ve left the details to my husband and I Mr....” 

She had to squint to read the faded print of his name tag. Felicity being closer gathered her wits the said, “Owen...his name is Owen Mrs. Queen.” 

Moira’s icy eyes immediately melted as they drifted from Owen’s face and down to Felicity. Her skin glowed as she smiled sadly. “Angel would you mind giving me a moment with Owen?” 

Felicity glanced between the two and shivered. “Mrs. Queen is my mommy okay?” 

She bowed her head and whispered slowly, “Sweetie how much do you remember from the accident?” 

Felicity remembered nothing other than how it felt when she was shaken awake by her mother’s awful sounding screams. She squared her small shoulders and grimaced when she admitted, “I just remember her screams...” 

Moira’s eyes fell in shame. Owen patted her small shoulder then spoke sternly towards the older woman, “She was found between them. Her father we suspect died on impact when the metal frame crushed his bones. Her mother was found with a weak pulse and the girl curled in her lap.” 

Moira’s cold voice snapped at the man’s insensitive approach, “You couldn’t wait until she was in another room!” 

Felicity’s small voice felt even smaller when she whimpered, “Please where’s my mommy?” 

Moira fell to the floor, scuffing her shoes and destroying the knees of her hose. She cupped Felicity’s small cheeks with warm comforting hands and brushed her thumbs over her tear stained cheeks. Owen kept his hand over her small shoulders while Moira’s lips quivered through the painful truth. “Tonight while you were coming to the hospital something bad happened.” 

Felicity nodded with the innocence of a child. Moira continued with tears streaming down her own narrow face. Felicity could see small flecks of black as the lines of her own tears marred her otherwise perfect face. “Your car was hit by another driver...” she nearly sobbed as Felicity caught Robert’s grief stricken face lingering just behind her. His usually bright eyes looked pale and forlorn as he slowly fell to his own knees upon the hospital floor. He placed a cold hand on Moira’s shoulder and whispered to her ear, “They didn’t make it. The strain of pregnancy was too much...they’re gone...”

Moira’s controlled sobs changed into a blood curling wail as she drew Felicity tightly into her trembling arms. She moved willing into the awkward embrace, her cheek fell upon her coat’s collar as the older woman murmured, “It’s going to be okay Felicity, It’s going to be okay...”   

“Hey Angel you still with me?” she heard her adoptive mother ask as she placed a tender kiss to her furrowed brow. 

Moira slid her fingers through Felicity’s as her other traced along her damp cheek. She smiled and brushed her thumb over a falling tear. “You know the baby didn’t kill her sweetie the car accident did...” she soothed as Felicity nodded in fear. 

“She had a complication that’s why the baby was six weeks early...” Felicity wept as Moira squeezed her shaking hand. 

Rita I just need a quick minute is that alright?” she asked without ever averting a gaze from Felicity’s terrified eyes. 

“Of course Mrs. Queen I’ll just make sure the equipment is calibrated,” she answered before the door behind them clicked closed. 

Moira’s chest faltered as she swept a piece of hair behind her ear. Felicity leaned into her touch as she spoke, “You’re afraid that he’ll die the same way your father did aren’t you?”

Felicity felt shame as she croaked out a pathetic, “My father died protecting his children and, Oliver wouldn’t hesitate to do the same...” Her chest began to ache as her selfish fears poured forth. “It was bad enough when I fell for him...” 

Moira smiled, “I’m going to selfishly disagree since that for me was a very blessed day,” she murmured as her eyes softly fell. 

Felicity’s eyes rolled, “You don’t understand, I can’t lose him Moira, I can’t face the idea of living from day to day in a world where he doesn’t exist.” 

“I’m practically your mother so let’s drop the Moira and secondly Angel loving him is what saved you hell it’s what saved him...” Felicity saw the wheels turning in her mind so she saved her the effort and admitted with shame...

“I never intended to give him a child because I knew in the end it would destroy us both.” 

Moira’s lips pursed in empathy not disgust. “That’s why you tried to keep your relationship platonic I assume?” 

Felicity digested the question then mumbled, “Yes...” 

“And when he pushed you into admitting your feelings I’m betting you put up another internal wall?

Again Felicity mumbled, “Yeah and look where my “emotions” left me.” 

Moira leaned forward until her lips were at Felicity’s ear. She whispered in a snippy tone, “That’s what condoms and birth control are for sweetie.” 

Felicity gulped as Moira placed her forehead over hers. “You’re saying that subconsciously I wanted a child aren’t you?” 

She felt the older woman’s smile grow as her nose crinkled, “You’re too smart to leave anything up to fate angel, you always were.” 

Felicity groaned, “Apparently this time I did...” 

Moira laughed, “No you didn’t Felicity. You’re ready for more but you’re just unable or unwilling to admit it.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” she scowled. 

Moira pushed further, “Then say it, tell me why didn’t want to love him from day one?” 

Felicity felt the confidence in her voice, she felt the determination in her eyes and she felt the empathy in her touch. Moira was pushing her to break down another wall the only problem was Felicity didn’t want to crumble for anyone but Oliver. 

“I didn’t want to love him because...” Felicity started just to end the verbal brawl as Moira held her hand tightly. Felicity felt her chest stammering as her heart fluttered. The moment felt wrong, the timing was off and the forehead that should be there wasn’t. Her words felt cold and dis-joined as they left her numb tongue but still she managed a weak but somewhat honest declaration through her muted tone, “I didn’t want another grave taking up residence in my shattered heart.” 

Moira pushed lightly, “And why don’t you want a baby?” 

Felicity’s entire body shuddered. This wasn’t meant for her it was meant for Oliver. Her truth, her words, her fears all of those moments were meant to be shared with him as he held her in his loving arms. She stammered and groaned as her mind searched for the words to end the conflict. “I don’t want him dying because of them...” she offered weakly but Moira knew better. 

She pushed back with harsh words, “Don’t be the selfish brat that broke my son’s heart, be the person he deserves instead of the weakling who nearly let him marry the wrong woman...” 

Felicity croaked, “They were never close to that and you know it...” 

“Still you almost let him go and I want to know why? Why are you really afraid of having a baby with the man who’d give his life just to see you smile?” she probed as their foreheads remained connected. 

Felicity stammered, “Please don’t make me say this...” 

Moira pushed back, “I won’t but only if you promise to tell him...” 

Felicity’s eyes slammed shut, “He’ll never understand...” she whimpered almost uncontrollably. 

Moira insisted once more before she pulled away, “He knows about that day sweetie he’ll understand why you’re afraid...” 

Her chest heaved as she spoke, “Moira…mom it’s not the simple.” 

She nodded in empathy, “I know but something inside of you is still broken from that day...” 

Felicity nodded grimly, “He won’t understand why I didn’t tell him, he won’t understand why I lied...” she breathed as something inside her heart finally began to heal. “He doesn’t know that she almost died while giving birth to me, he just thinks it’s about my brother he doesn’t know how far it really goes...” she admitted in one large painful breath. 

“He’ll ask you to marry him Felicity...he’ll push for more if you don’t give him the truth willingly,” she murmured just as Rita knocked on the door. 

Felicity looked up at her adoptive mother and cried softly, “The problem with that is I want to marry him...” 

Moira’s tears fell, “You can’t marry him if he doesn’t know sweetie, he has to understand he could lose you...” 

She gulped heavily, “I’m going to end up pushing him away.” 

Moira croaked, “He’ll just push harder...” 

Felicity simply sighed, “Yeah until I break his heart...” 

She leaned her aching forehead over the numbers upon their front door. She savored the cold of the bronze metal and yearned for the courage to face what she know was waiting beyond the threshold. Her eyes burned then her vision blurred as she swallowed a strangled cry. The sonogram picture was crinkled between her fingers, their child’s image was in her hands and all she could do was struggle with the urge to scream. 

The ground below her vibrated, the beat seemed to permeate through the soles of her shoes as she swallowed a gnarled plea, “Please don’t let me screw this up...” she begged lowly. “Please let me heal...” she prayed as her free hand flew to her stomach, “Please let this child be born...” she wept before she stowed the picture in her coat pocket and solemnly reached for the door. 

The darkness engulfed her willing as she stepped slowly inside the stillness of the empty room. She flicked the switch by the door and dropped the keys into the ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter. She stood there frozen. Her bones felt like concrete had filled the hallow spaces. She lumbered forward, she felt the cool, marbled, grey colored granite beneath her trembling fingers. She squinted her eyes when she saw a broad set of shoulders lightly heave. She leaned her hip along the counter top’s beveled edge and roughly cleared her clogged throat, “Most people turn the lights on when it gets dark outside...” She kept her tone light and even as her mask fell swiftly into place. 

She saw the slope of his shoulder heave as his head fell. She managed to drag herself to a chair along the island; she even managed to pull the dark colored wood outward but stopped when he mumbled almost deadly, “Mom called me after your appointment...” 

Her nimble fingers curled over the chairs back, “How much do you know...” she spat angrily as she started slumping to the cold floor. 

“Let’s not blame her shall we...” he growled with his back still slumped against the back of their off grey colored sectional. 

Felicity rolled her eyes swiftly while allowing her body to fall back against the white paneling of the islands cabinets. “Why not? It’s her fault we even met to begin with so it makes complete sense to me...” 

She heard him roll his broad shoulders and even cringed when his elbows landed on his stiff knees. “Don’t Felicity, just don’t I’m not going to rip apart our history just so you can avoid telling me the truth,” he replied coldly with no regard to her fragile state of mind. 

It was then she knew that Moira had said nothing. She huffed in agreement, “Fine so what do you want?” 

“Felicity,” he sighed painfully. 

She proceeded to crack her neck, he in turn groaned as she smiled with glee, “What baby still hate that habit?” 

He inched off the couch and maneuvered around the table by the sectional. The light from the city below lit his face in an array of conflicting shadows as he moved along the living room rug. Felicity watched him gingerly walk the floor as she sought to control her rattled nerves by rubbing her fingers along her coat covered upper arms. 

He glanced toward her and breathed with strain lacing his throat, “Just tell me is it what you thought?” 

She bowed her head and bit her lip, “That depends on how you look at it I suppose,” she cowered in shame. 

He dragged his palm down his chiseled face and sighed, “Cut the crap Felicity and just tell me what to expect.” 

She shrugged lamely, “I don’t know what would you expect from someone whose six weeks pregnant?” 

She heard him place his dress shoes on the grey floors. He shuffled forward nervously while mumbling, “We’re having a baby?” 

She glanced up sarcastically, “Yeah and guess what I’m not elated.” 

He froze about three feet from her seated form. She noticed his left hand was dancing about nervously in the left pocket of his trousers. She cocked an eyebrow and swallowed a painful laugh before muttering, “You’ve got to be kidding me...” 

He shrugged, “It’s the logical next step?” 

“How? You thought I had the stomach flu! How is marriage the next logical step!” she shouted in confusion. 

His tone weakened, “Well mom said the news was life altering and I figured it might lessen the blow if you knew that no matter what I was with you...” 

Her body began to crumple. The mask she’d managed to hold was fading as the weight of her unsaid confession weighed heavily on her soul. The tears she’d managed to swallow now were creeping along the ducts of her eyes. Her fingertips felt bruised as she rubbed them raw along the fabric of her coat. He stood proudly with the ghost of a smile as she finally felt her emotions give way. 

“You’re not asking me to marry you?” she squeaked from the floor of their shared home.

Oliver in an uncharacteristic move fell to his knees and wept openly, “Yeah baby I am…”

She gazed at him with tear filled eyes; “You wouldn’t be if I wasn’t pregnant…” she tried with a stammering heart. 

Oliver shook his head ruefully then placed the ring box on the ground between them, “When will you believe you mean everything to me?” he nearly cried with anger fueling his strangled words. 

She sputtered as her palm flew to her stomach, “When I believe that you only loved me…”

He glanced at her with confusion literally dripping from his mournful eyes. “That I only loved you?” he garbled as she watched in interest. 

Her plan was simple. It was calculated but simple; she was simply going to convince him that she feared he’d love their child more than he did her. He’d be disgusted and if she was lucky he’d leave her in a fit of rage. If this worked and the pregnancy ended up killing her then at least he’d be spared the pain of mourning his wife...Her plan was simple but, something inside her felt strange. She chewed at her lip and hid the small ghost of a frown over her full lips; her stomach ached as again something inside her twisted not with guilt but oddly with anger…She shrugged off the strange feeling and remembered her silent vow…

She told Moira in Dr. Franklin’s office that she was going to break his heart and dammit she intended to but, what she’d forgotten to foresee was what she’d always failed to see...

Oliver wasn’t going to let her self-destruct...even if it meant he did in the process. 

He folded his hands over his lap and scrunched his adorable forehead. Felicity despite her thoughts smiled at his adorable grin. He however glowered when her words finally clicked into horrifying place. “You know you had me,” he declared. 

She splayed her hand over her stomach and gulped, “Had you?” she purred innocently. 

He smirked but it wasn’t the one that indicated she was about to made a very happy woman, no this smirk was to indicate she’d been caught. “Yes Felicity,” he seethed, “Had me, you almost had me until I saw where your hand was positioned...” 

Her ashamed eyes fell as she muttered quietly, “I was trying to spare you...” 

He huffed angrily, “When will you get it through your thick head I’m not leaving you, I’m not quitting us, I’m not abandoning you, and I’m fucking in love with you!” 

She shouted back with downcast eyes, “YEAH WELL I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND THAT’S WHY I WANTED TO SPARE YOU!” 

He growled darkly, “And what making me believe that you were selfish enough to hate me for loving our child was your plan? I mean honestly Felicity what did you think I’d do? Were you going to tell that because your father died saving you, you were afraid of losing me the same way? Did you really want me to just walk away and leave you?” 

She glared then seethed bitterly, “What gave it away?” 

Her comment caught him off guard, she smirked in happiness as he shook his rattled head, “Again only loved me was a bit telling given you’re pregnant.” 

“Shit,” she moaned bitterly. “I knew that was the wrong word,” she groaned as she eyed the small box before her. “Mom’s wedding set I assume?” she asked defeated. 

He laughed lowly, “Yes and stop avoiding the fight. You were going to what tell me that because your father died saving you, you were afraid to lose me the same way right?”

She mumbled lowly, “It was a thought yes…”

He nearly cracked his jaw when he growled, “You had a backup plan I know you…” Her eyes slipped shut while he groaned through her possible list…”Let me guess you were going to end this pregnancy because of your mother’s second pregnancy? Or even better...” he continued on as she sat there and quietly stewed. “You weren’t going to tell me at all; you were going to simply leave before you started to show?” 

“Well I put more thought into the plan than that but, yes I was going to put up another...” 

“Wall...” he interrupted glumly. 

She glared then gulped, “Yes, I was going to put up another wall and convince you that I couldn’t be with someone who loved our child more than me.” 

He mumbled in disgust, “You’re sick you know that?” 

She bowed her head and lightly patted her stomach, “No I’m scared and guess what fear makes me do foolish things,” she said weakly to aid her defense. 

“Trying to convince me that you’d despise me for loving our child is pretty low even for you...” he groaned as he began to move backward along his knees. 

She nodded in horrified agreement, “I’m not too happy about my choice either but the truth is worse.” 

His retreating form froze, “How is that even possible?” he asked in what could only be described as terror. 

She looked up with freshly fallen tears and mumbled, “Because based on my medical history both the baby and I could die.” 

Oliver’s eyes fell so she kept going while her hand remained firmly over her stomach. “Do you remember when I was around fourteen?” 

He nodded then mumbled gravely, “You were sick for about a month. Mom wouldn’t let me or even Thea see you, she alone tended to you. Well she and Dr. Franklin...” 

She saw him breathe heavily; his body seemed to retract inwards as he brought his palms to his elbows. Felicity swallowed a tender cry of remorse before continuing slowly with empathy brimming in her voice. “Apparently I had an ovarian cyst; which terrified me because when my mother was pregnant with me she had one that ruptured...” She felt the tears falling freely down not only her face but she somehow could feel his as well. 

He breathed, “That’s why you were going to the hospital that night...” 

She nodded, “She’d been sick for a few days. She was being monitored because of what happened with me. They delivered me via C-section after the cyst ruptured. She barely survived the procedure and I was trapped in the ICU for almost a month because I was about 5 weeks early.” 

“That’s why you had glasses at such a young age right?” he mumbled as he gradually moved closer. She could feel his soul breaking before her as he pushed the ring box across the floor and towards her feet. 

She again nodded and reached for the token. “Yeah...” she murmured as she folded her fingers around the box’s hard edges. 

“Your brother was the same?” he asked a bit awkwardly. 

She smiled sadly, “He would have been had it not been for the accident...” She felt his knees bumping along her feet. She gazed at his handsome face and finally lifted her hand from her stomach. She saw her fingers tremble as she inched her way towards his titled jaw. She gasped when he reached forward grabbing her hand and twisted her wrist until his lips were at the center of her palm. 

He croaked through the tears in his throat, “You didn’t want me to lose both you and our child...that’s why you did all of this...” he suddenly realized.  

He kissed her skin tenderly once more before he moved his hand to her fallen chin. She in turn cupped his cheek as they each leaned inward. The moment their foreheads touched she immediately found home. “I’m so sorry but I’m just so fucking scared to be without you...” she sobbed almost instantly. 

He chuckled lowly, “Well I’d say the feelings mutual but based on your actions you sorta knew that.”

She smiled before her lips fell back into small frown, “I swore I’d never put you through this…I swore but now that I’ve seen him or her I can’t lie and say I’m not overjoyed…”

He croaked, “I don’t have the words to describe what I’m feeling but dammit honey this has got to stop…”

She mumbled contritely, “I know baby, believe I know…”

He murmured against her lips, “Why didn’t you tell me about your mother? Why didn’t tell me that’s what you were afraid of?” 

She mumbled incoherently, “I was so young when it happened and I didn’t realize that I could have the same condition, and then when I fell for you it got really complicated. So I put up about a thousand walls figuring you’d never be dumb enough to tear them all down but, then you did and like an idiot I started wanting you to.” 

Their lips brushed endlessly as she spoke, his reply to her endless words made her stomach flutter with hope. “Then why not just bring them down yourself? Why did it take me years of groveling for you to realize you’re it for me?”

She let him kiss her soundly with more tenderness then she deserved before her words fell freely from her bruised lips, “By the age of five I’d learned two very painful lessons, one love kills and two living without love is damn near impossible.”

He whispered against the corner of her mouth, “Then why the hell did you fight me?”

She inhaled deeply then pressed her fingers gently over his skin. His head tilted into her shaky touch as she exhaled over his tingling skin, “Because I can’t live in a world where you don’t love me and, letting you in meant you’d have to love all of me…”

He pulled away just enough so she could see his heart in those perfect eyes. “Then tell me you’ll marry me,” he murmured. “Tell me you’ll spend the rest of your life with me as we both work on eradicating those damn walls of yours.”  

She starred into those endless blue eyes and marveled at his capacity for forgiveness. She mumbled along his bottom lip as their fingers traced along the other’s skin feverishly, “How can you still want to marry me?” she questioned briefly. 

He pressed a very timid kiss to her slightly parted lips. She felt his tongue skimming along her bottom lip as he muttered, “I’d be lost without you so I understand the twisted logic...” 

She kissed him tenderly, “Can you ever forgive me?” she asked once they parted. 

His nose rubbed along her own as they remained connected by their foreheads. “As I already said this has to stop honey. You can’t keep running from me Felicity. I can’t keep losing us because you’re afraid I’ll leave, I can’t keep fighting for us alone with one hand tied behind my back,” he pleaded endlessly as the box once more fell at her feet. 

She glanced down at the unopened square then glanced back to his eyes. She licked her lips as he brushed his own over them. She smiled into the deepening kiss as he pulled her closer. She parted her legs and pulled herself over his lap. Her knees rested along the floors with his hips burning the skin that touched them. She murmured as his fingers became twisted in her hair, “Then yes…”

Oliver’s heart stopped and for the first time she felt the skipped beat. She timidly placed her palm over his thudding chest and whispered lowly, “I felt that...” 

He bypassed the statement for a moment and uttered, “You said yes?”

She giggled, “Yeah I said yes, why wouldn’t I?”

He nearly choked in shock, “Would you like to go through out tortured history?”

“No,” she mumbled as his heart jumped again. Her eyes flared when she muttered, “It happened again…”

“What did?” he asked quickly.

“Your heart, it literally just skipped another beat and somehow I felt it,” she croaked emotionally with a feeling of solace racing through her once nervous veins.

His eyes blazed, “How?” he murmured before their lips touched. 

She shrugged then realized as their lips brushed, “It’s because I’m finally ready to stop running…” Moments later her timid tongue was softly touching his. 

His moaned, “So we’re going to be a family?” raced through down the smooth muscles of her throat before they edged their way firmly into her steadily beating heart.

She smiled once more as her whisper was engulfed by the first of many endless kisses, “Yeah because we already are...” 

Tagging: @emmaamelia95 @pleasantfanandstudent @coal000 @memcjo @lesanchea @mrsbubblelee @olicitylovemaking @miriam1779 @love2luvyyou @almondblossomme @diggo26 @rivaroma @cjjingram @vaelisamaza @befitandchase @pimsiepim @andjustforthismoment @anonymiss118 @thelockpickingvictorian @yet-i-remain-quiet @lexi9515 @kathrynelizabeth89 @marniforolicity @marytagus @myuntetheredsoul @myhauntedblacksoul @blondiegrl00 @independent-fics @felicity-said--yes @relativelyobsessedfangirl @i-m-a-fan-world @mel-loves-all @somewhatinvisible @danski15 @stygian-omada-fan @malafle @emilyp05 @oliverfel4 @alemap74 @vicky-vale @charlinert @hope-for-olicity @missafairy @arrows-4ever @jaspertown @sweetzcupcake @captainolicitysbedroom @nalla-madness @smoakingarrow19 @bwangangelic @ccdimples88 @lalawo1 @yespleasehawkeye @ireland1733 @quiveringbunny @scu11y22 @detbensonsvu1 @tdgal1 @cinfos @xxliveyourlife @onceuponarrow @supersillyanddorky06 

[liljaspie]

= Warnings =

Drug use

Cursing

" Can We Get Out Of Here ? "

// S T A R T\\

"Is this poetic or just cruel?" Jasper asked staring in the mirror with a deflated expression.

"Both if you squint." Medu mumbled from across the room. As always the green haired woman was sprawled out on her bed naked. True to her nudist ways even in the midst of three of the most hormonal people she'd ever had the displeasure of knowing.

"Why are you bitching? Fucking spoiled little prick, you're lucky Sarah isn't shoving you into a dress and forcing you into a wig." Daniel cussed glaring at the other who did nothing but helplessly look between him and the naked girl. A silent plead for help.

While Jasper blinked in morse code Daniel dug through the drawers for a brush. When he found it he tossed it at his siblings head with dead accuracy. It bounced with a dull thud and a wimpy yelp of pain. "Comb your goddamn hair!"

Medu sighed in a way that sounded like a hiss and Jasper inhaled with an unintentional snarl. "Come here babes." The green girl beckoned seeing the rising irritation in the other by the look on their pale face.

The black haired victim stood with a dragging stumble in their step. It took longer than it should've to cross the room, but when they reached the bed, Jasper didn't hesitate to fall face first onto the bed and it's many blankets with the brush clutched loosely in their hand.

The tanned girl let a soft chuckle rumble out of her. It vibrated the bed just enough to make the tired being look over at her. A note of they were trying, even if all it was, was trying.

"Give me the brush and get over here." Her command was followed without argument. Jasper lied with their head on Medu's thigh as the other ran the brush through the dyed black locks.

If a human could purr the ravenette probably would be in that moment. The bed was soft, Medu's skin was warm, and smelled like honeysuckle. Though their muscles tensed when Daniel once again made himself known. "We've only got an hour, you still need to figure out if the fucking suit fits at all." He pointed an accusing finger at Jasper.

A sigh was heard, once again with an unintentional snarl that made Medu raise her brow. "What?"

"I-I" A mumble. "I don't want to go Mei." Pale arms found themselves around the green haired girls waist. An action to insinuate how heavy the sentence was.

"It's just your family Jay-Jay."

"That's the problem." A bitter remark.

"I guess it is.. It shouldn't last long?"

"Knowing my brother he's going to pay for a stripper and spend the whole night degrading me to her."

"A couple of big steps back in therapy?"

"It'll be a miracle if I stay sober for more than an hour, even more of one if I don't get into a fist fight with Daniel or a brawl with a stranger."

Medu gave Jasper a pitious look. An almost hurt one, the ravenette had promised again and again they wouldn't get into fights, but life was short, and Jasper was an asshole.

"Get up dumbass, get dressed your brother is about to pop a blood vessel, and not one of his." Hadrian spoke from the doorway, his tone was light, his eyes were red, and his beard was perfect.

When they didn't move Hadrian walked over and picked them up by their feet. "Hades what are you doing-?" A question answered a few seconds later when Jasper was lifted off the bed dangling off of the mans back. "Put me down."

Hadrian had a look of contemplation. "Get dressed."

"Put me down."

"Get dressed."

"How?"

"That's a you problem bud, get dressed."

Their face was red from hanging upside down. There wasn't much time for the poorly circulated ravenette before they stopped feeling their legs. It was awkward and uncomfortable, the way Jasper practically had to do crunches to put on the shirt. A concussion was probable from the way Hadrian dropped them, suddenly letting go of their calves and doing a gravity check.

"You look handsome Jay." Medu spoke from the bed.

Jasper rolled their eyes and tied their tie looking in the mirror to give the green haired girl a half hearted glare. "I always look handsome love,"

"JASP-" Daniel appeared in the doorway red in the face ready to scream. "-OH you're dressed, get in the car it's almost time to go." It wasn't kindness or joy, just a less angry tone that allowed the ravennette to follow their blonde brother.

"Bye babes." Medu spoke still sitting on the bed.

"See you sweets." Jasper responded pulling the door closed behind them as Hadrian walked out.

×

The ride was long and boring. The same street signs and buildings that were always there.

×

The music in the club was loud, the lights were neon, and the dancers were naked. "Jay baby! Where you been these past couple months?" A woman with dreads asked leaning against the bar.

"I told you I was going to Paris for awhile."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually go! Where'd you even get the cash for that?" She asked with a slight smile on her face.

"Work, I have a job Karma."

"Do you?" She mumbled mostly to herself. 'Must've been the other guy..' Could've been heard faintly under her breath. She cleared her throat. "Wheres Corbin?"

"With Big Danny over at the chocolate fountain." Jasper spoke both mournful and glad to be free of the interaction.

Hadrian had snuck up on them, or rather, had been standing there giggling to himself at the cousin and cousin interaction. "Soo, why did you bring me here?" He had spoken curiously raising his brow at his adopted sibling.

"You're more family than anyone else in this building." A response made by the black sheep of the family. A less known, less liked, less confident person.

"Pfft, yeah, I'm pretty sure I heard your cousins yelling your deadname when we walked in."

"Fucking Kie." Jasper muttered not missing a beat when they turned on their heal and ordered two vodka shots. Hadrian followed asking for two more, they were added to the tab.

"So glum you're going to drink your way to heaven? What's wrong? They missed you, they threw you a party, buck up." He spoke leaning back with his elbows against the oak bar.

"Half of these people don't know my name, the other half haven't seen me fully clothed- Ever."

The man quirked his brow. "How, I'm sorry, how is that bad?"

"Because, these are my people!" As they spoke they lifted their arms in a would-be joyous gesture. Though their arms fell limp and they slouched forward on the bar. "But my family is here too."

"So what?"

"My judgemental, heteronormative, never forget a thing, family is here."

"I'm still not seeing the issue Jaspie."

"I bring great shame and dishonor to my family, and they willingly came to my world, to crush it." Hadrian immediately brushed off their comment.

"Nahh, I refuse to believe they mean anything but good." He spoke putting his hands on Jaspers shoulders so they'd look at him. The gesture worked, and the other had leaned their head back to frown at him.

The ravenette then turned around, and patted the mans cheek. "They aren't good like you." As this sank in, between both of them two glasses clunked against the bar. They were gone as soon as they hit the oak- "Salud." A comment made in synchronicity.

"Wheres Nickolas anyway, he's practically your twin with how much you two copy eachother." A change of pace and an intentional deflection by Hadrian himself.

Jasper just sighed and ran a hand through their hair. "He's still in Paris, we got into a fight, he's staying with his boyfriend."

"Oh. What- No! Nevermind you need a drink, soooo-" The man knocked on the bar adding a couple more dollars to his tab. "Six shots for the lovely nonbinary."

The sound of scuffling and glass lightly hitting oak echoed in Jaspers head. "Hey.. Hades.. Can-uh Can we get out of here?"

Hadrian raised his brow but nodded knocking back one of the shots before he slid off the barstool. "Sure.. Home-?

Jasper shook their head quickly. "No, no, I don't want to go back there yet.. Daniel will find me." It took a few seconds before an idea of where to go came up. "Let's climb to the roof of the library."

"We haven't done that since we were kids Jasp." Hadrian responded looking at the other. "Are you that uncomfortable?" His brow had furrowed with concern. He soon caved however at the way the other fidgeted. "Jesus, fine. Fine. Let's go. Get you out of here."

The sigh of relief was the only thing Hadrian needed to convince himself he was doing the right thing. They left the club, sneaking their way through the crowd and snagging a few beers.

The walk was nostalgic, the first time back home in years, with their best friend by their side. The gentle hum of Hades Lofi music keeping them both calm in their slight haze.

The feeling of thick boots hitting asphalt, and the ever so faint sound of the loose shoelaces clacking against it resonated with them both. "How long has it been?"

Hadrian looked at Jasper with a mix of confusion and concern. "Since what?"

"How long has it been since the last time we did this?" The lump building in their throat made the words seem a bit heavier.

"Four years."

"Four?"

"Yes, that's how time and math work dumbass."

"You should know I flunked every math class I've ever taken."

"I do know, dumbass."

"Alright.. Why did you decide to come tonight?"

"Your neice wanted you to show her your old music, and I missed you fuckface."

"The metal bands? She doesn't want to hear those." Jasper had a confused look ob their face.

"She loves them actually. Kind of obsessed with it, it blows my mind.."

"I'll make a playlist for her tomorrow then.. Tonight however, Uncle Jay Jay is going to get hammered and probably jump off a roof."

"Plausible deniability." Hadrian spoke lifting up his bottle of bud light.

Jasper took a swig of the drink and swished it in their mouth for a second. "Is that the lirbary?"

"Yeah, it's been abandoned since senior year." The man had spoke.

"I missed too much."

"You came back though."

"I left too.. Do you think Lauren will ever forgive me?"

"I'm not sure if she'll ever get out of jail Jasp.." Hadrian spoke with a bitter tone in his voice. "She an addict... and not one that wants to recover."

"Yeah but so was I Hades.."

"I know.. but drop it? Please."

The conversation had ended there. On that somber note. Three childhood friends who didn't know eachother like they used to. Who weren't the same kids they grew up with. Tonight was the last night they'd probably see eachother. A last ditch effort to stay connected even though they had nothing in common.

Hadrian despite his childhood of gun threats and abuse wanted to live peacefully, legally.

Jasper partook in drugs, sex, and car theft. They were a prostitute and a thief. They were hated, and unlike Hades, they didn't have the spine to fight against the stereotype.

Lauren, was your run of the mill depressed kid. Only she wasn't a kid anymore, and her coping mechanism became an addiction.

"Jasper."

"Yeah?"

"How the fuck are we going to get up there?"

= E N D =

Uh, end I guess? I don't love how this was written, but, better than it could be-?

[yafantasyworlds]

Unknown by Wendy Higgins - book Review

Where do I even start? This was an action packed story from beginning to end.

So I am basically still freaking out about this book and I have to concentrate in order to be able to write this review without making it just a load of fangirl words and squeals/shrieks.

                                        SPOILER FREE REVIEW

Little did I know that I was in for a huge, gigantic and massive surprise when I picked this up.

The best combination of words that I can use to describe this book won’t do it justice honestly, believe me. It won’t.

But I think that if you like new adult romance/sci-fi/ apocalyptic books then you will eventually give in and agree with me on this. I was already familiar with Wendy Higgins writing style from reading the Sweet Evil trilogy a while back, but I never thought that this book was going to change my view on her as an author. Ok. Ok slow down! I don’t mean this in a bad way, I just truly believe that in this particular book Wendy Higgins has gotten significantly more creative than in the Sweet Evil books (I freaking love that trilogy btw). This was a gripping story from the very first word.

So right at the very beginning the first chapter which is a prologue, we are introduced to these “people” and they are about to do something that will affect everyone’s way of life as we know it and we don’t get to see much in this prologue and obviously that was done on purpose to keep the reader on guessing the whys and the hows. As I read the prologue I got the feeling this was going to be a sci-fi/ apocalyptic novel and I was right.

But then… BANG in my face!!! When I actually finished the prologue and all of sudden I’m in a different setting and seeing all these normal mundane things happening with these main characters I’m being introduced to, this just seems like a cute contemporary romance novel and I obviously got so much into it that I freaking forgot about the prologue. Can you believe it?!

I got so involved with the writing and the pace of the story that I got distracted and then I was left with my mouth hanging open again when other things started happening in order for the story to start flowing in a different direction.

Anyways, the main character is called Amber and we read from her perspective. I shall not name other main/secondary characters because… spoilers. Amber is a strong, loving, honest and real character and I freaking love her.

Amongst all this craziness and pain and suffering we see throughout the book that is Unknown, I really enjoyed the cute and loving moments the characters shared and honestly, this is just what we do as humans. We might be in a bad situation but there is always hope and when we stick together nothing can bring us down, but sometimes good doesn’t always win.

There is a little bit of a comic relief at some points in the book and that also helped making this an easy and fast read.

The action was awesome and it moved the story at a really nice pace whilst not making it rushed.

Well, look you just have to read it and come back for the spoiler filled review below… honestly just go into it without knowing much more about it. You won’t regret it.

So if you want to give this a go, here is a  link that will help you find out more about Unknown and a link if you would like to purchase this book ;)

                        ******************** GOODREADS ********************

                         ******************** AMAZON ********************

                                                      SPOILERS

OH MY GOD!!!

Ok so if you’re reading this you obviously read the book, right?!

If not GO AWAY! Read it first and then come back to read this part of the review.

I’m just going to say it; please don’t judge me I don’t often lose it like this but…

HOLY SHIT!!! OMFG!!! AHHHHHHHH

I am still freaking out and experiencing PTSD because I didn’t expect this to make me feel so alive and to relate so much to these characters and to understand them even though I’ve never gone through something even remotely similar to this (Thank God).

Ok breathe in… hold. Breathe out… slowly. Ok. I’m fine now.

So, like I mentioned above the beginning was crazy and that prologue was very intriguing and mysterious and obviously left me wanting to know more about these “people”?! Aliens?

Angels of death? Hell, I don’t know but I freaking loved every single word in this book. Ughh it’s so addictive and oh my god it was gripping from the first page.

I loved the fact that after I read the prologue we go into this different place and time and it’s so jarring to see these characters pop out of nowhere all of sudden and I’m like, umm ok this is different and as I  kept going the less I thought about the prologue and so eventually I just forgot about it and I started fangirling and rooting for Amber and Ry as any fangirl would do and then…

I just want them together #RYMBER #AMLEN awww isn’t this cute?!

 These bombings start happening and then we are going fast forward and seeing these characters grow up really fast as more attacks happen in our world and more people die ughhh. It was so heart breaking to see Amber not being able to express her feelings for Ry and also not being able to let go of him for all these years. And at the same time, I felt that he wasn’t completely oblivious to her feelings but maybe he was trying to respect her and treat her like a sister since they grew up together. I don’t know, but he does have more than brotherly feelings towards her for sure and I just broke down crying when he brought Livia (the wife) home and I don’t know how Amber was able to keep it together so well at that moment but I know I wouldn’t be able to. But then omg omg omg then we find out about Livia’s baby not being Ry’s and then Ry confesses to Amber that they never even had sex because of the circumstances and ahhhhhhhh.

Ok so this tent scene between Ry and Amber happened when they are near the camp at the Mojave desert planning to rescue their family, Ry’s wife Livia and Remy’s parents and everyone else. This part of the book had some of my favorite scenes and the comic relief here just made me go; awwww a few times.

I loved how Jacob was all over Remy and how she kept flirting with him and how uncomfortable Ry and Amber were after the morning wood scene lol.

I was really scared when these military guys got introduced and I thought maybe they were going to rape Amber and Remy and take them to the camp and then Tater and Ry would have to rescue all of them but to my relief they were all good guys, despite the fact that they were pervs.

As for these weird people called Drips and Derps (the jerks) oh man did I get angry with these idiots. I mean, to have a normal life and then to have to obey these douchecanoes ughh!!!

Did I cry when they killed off Granpa *tears up* it was so not fair what they did and to know that there wasn’t anything that they could do at that moment but to cooperate and just do what the officers said was so frustrating and even I felt powerless.

Now, back to the camp. Earlier on we see that Amber starts calling this place where the Drips or Derps are taking their families, camps.

She straight away assumes these places are like concentration camps from WWII and sadly she is right.

As our main characters plan this rescue mission to get everyone out of the camp I was expecting us to switch perspectives with one of her family members in order for us to know what is going on inside the camp but that didn’t happen and I kept getting nervous with each word I read, dreading the worst might happen.

Then finally when we get everyone together and we go look at the camp where we see the Air Force planes fly by and all these Drips and Derps just flee the scene in vans and all our loved characters just assume that the AF is there to help but then they drop these bombs that end up killing everyone at the camp and at this point I just burst into tears and I’m in Amber’s shoes and seeing all this happening. They just lost everyone.  Everyone that was important to them. The same people that made this book so cute in the nice moments that we saw the family spend together over the past few years came to mind and I was engulfed by sadness and anger.

All of Amber’s family, Livia and Remy’s parents are gone. Along with all those innocent people. It’s fair to call this genocide and we have to believe that there must be a someone in charge that hopefully we will be able to defeat at some point.

At the very end we get to see everyone together again back where they were hiding before the bombings. All of a sudden when Sean is trying to listen in for news on their radio and Ry listens and realizes that someone is using morse code to communicate and omg they find out that they have to move quick and try to get to this DPG camp where they might find allies.

This is where the books ends and I’m just sitting here. Back to reality and now suffering from PTSD.

But, that’s ok. Do you know why? Because I have another book to read and review after this one.

And after I do that, I have an ARC of Unrest (book 2) that was sent to me by these awesome people at InkSlinger and basically it’s why I actually read this book.

I requested and ARC of Unrest without realizing that it was book 2 and I then when I got the ARC I started reading Unknown and that is how I got addicted to this amazing world that Wendy Higgins created.

I rated this book 5/5 stars on Goodreads and Amazon because I couldn't rate it a trillion stars

Let me know your thoughts and if you share the same feelings as me.