#straight up starting to look for a second job cause i love my daycare job so much but the pay is garbage

[airbussy-a330]

I am in too deep I started making a list of all the model airplanes I want. Can I afford any one them? No :). But a man can dream.

[ererokii]

Once More || Shouto Todoroki

Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, Todoroki is a douchebag, suggestive themes

Word Count: 6686

Synopsis: Pro Hero Shouto needs to approve his hero ratings and by doing so, he helps a local daycare of the brink of being shut down.

Taglist (message to be added): @shoutodoki @shoutosteakettle @saltie @pixxiesdust @fryingpanitachi @sugacookiies @kingtamakimurder

➺ Note: This is for the @bnhabookclub‘s bingo event! The prompt is Snobby x Humble. Thank you Ze and Gabs for betaing 🥰. Part 2 here

Bingo Masterlist

Being the son of the number one hero had its perks. Sometimes. Not all the time. The only bad thing was being recognized by the paparazzi in a crowd easier. Shouto would say it got real annoying quick. The young hero, who recently graduated from Yuuei, went to work for his father’s agency. Of course, he didn’t want to do that, since he was still in his rebellious ways against Endeavor. As much as the media thought it was something cute, father and son working together in the same agency, it wasn’t like that on the inside. The only reason Endeavor wanted Shouto to work with him was to boost up his hero ratings simply. Shouto knew this was the reason from the beginning. Since then, he left the Endeavor agency and went on his own to create a successful agency. This was four years ago.

At the age of 22, Shouto’s agency was one of the best in all of Japan, if not the best agency. Being successful at such a young age was something that took over his mind. He started with nothing but ash and dirt and turned it into something glorious and robust. His hard work paid off, and that sent his ego soaring off the earth. Everyone would be talking about him, and no one else. Why wouldn’t they? He was rich, smart, and extremely handsome. 

After graduating, Shouto cut off all ties with his former classmates, being told by his father that they were nothing more than distractions keeping him from reaching his goal. The only two he kept in touch were Midoriya and Bakugou because they were always working with each other on missions. He had no choice but to maintain ties with them. 

Part of being in the spotlight was being there for the public. Not just by saving them. By doing greetings and signings, occasional galas to raise money for those that need it most, or even visiting schools. Of course, everyone needs to see the heroes doing good deeds. There can’t be headlines saying, ‘Pro Hero Shouto is a heartless bastard! He doesn’t care for the public at all!’ That was the last thing Shouto wanted. He liked the positive attention on his agency. It made him feel powerful. 

At the moment, Shouto was busy with his paperwork, as usual. Typically he would have had one of his newer sidekicks to do this for him since he usually was working, but this was an exception. A sigh of annoyance left his lips as he clicked his pen rapidly, staring straight at the wooden door that separated him from everyone else. His foot tapped on the floor, his leg bouncing up and down. The clock ticked with each second that passed, the precious time going over his head that made him stay locked with his inner demons. 

He blew a strand of hair out of his face that was too stubborn to stay in place. He watched it move with the air before falling back where it was in the beginning. He mindlessly brushed his bangs out of his face, slicking them back for a second before letting go, the tuft of hair falling back on his forehead. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the shorter hairs stand up. Since he started brand new, he changed his look, mostly his hair. He kept his hair on the top the same, long on top but short in the back, giving him a modern-day undercut. 

A knock to the door broke him from his reverie, causing him to jolt faintly in surprise. “Who is it?”

“Shouto, it’s me! I’m here to discuss this month’s funding!” The voice of his assistant rang from the other side of the door, coming out muffled. 

Shouto clicked his tongue in annoyance and sat up properly, clicking the pen in boredom. “Come in.”

The door's hinges squeaked as it swung open, as a male came in with a binder stacked with information.

“What the hell is all of that?”

“Uh, some more paperwork and requirements for the funding!”

Shouto groaned and let his head hit against the black cushion of his work chair. “If it can’t be helped. Just get straight to the point. What’s in it for this month?”

His assistant started talking about the preparations. A small daycare that was not too far from his agency needed help staying open. Their teacher desperately needed materials for her class as she called it, but was too empty-handed to get the job done. 

“A bunch of kids huh,” Shouto mumbled, running his hand through his hair. “And why couldn’t Deku get this one instead? I mean, I’m sure I could have gotten something better besides this.”

“Deku wanted this one, but his assistant told him that he already did a daycare last month and needed to do something different. Ground Zero… wasn’t a good candidate, so now here we are with you. I already scheduled you to visit the daycare in about a week.”

Shouto stared up at the ceiling, his hands scrunching up the fabric of his navy pants from his hero costume. He didn’t know a single thing about kids, considering he didn’t have the most beautiful childhood. What was he supposed to do when a nasty crying child comes up to him? Give him a high five and send him off again like nothing happened?

“This is plain stupid.”

“Well, it’s meant to make you look good in the public eye! Sure, you might not like it, but it’s for the ratings. Plus ya know…” he trailed off, sliding the binder in front of Shouto. “It’ll make you a better person.”

Shouto snapped his head quickly to face him, his heterochromatic eyes narrowed. “And what makes you say that? Am I not a good person?”

His assistant smiled faintly and turned on his heel, marching for the door. “You’ll find out when the time comes, Shouto.” His hand turned the knob, opening the door as he walked out, the door shutting behind him

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed for a second while cracking his knuckles. “I’ll find out, huh… alright.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

As expected, Shouto arrived at the daycare, a scowl written on his lips. As he exited his vehicle, he slammed the driver's door behind him, causing the car to shake from the force he exerted. 

He took one glance at the daycare and made a face of annoyance. “Only for this month, and that’s it,” he whispered to himself, letting one foot lead in front of the other. As he walked to the entrance, he took notice of the details. The once white paint was now peeling off the walls, the smiley faces of the painted kids were now fading away, the colors disappearing. The only thing that seemed to be alive in the vicinity was the grass he was walking on and the flowers' pots. The tall blades of green stood proud and active, dancing along with the cool breeze that sent shivers down Shouto’s body. The flowers in the once brown pots held their beauty as if it was the only thing they could hold onto. The mixtures of reds, oranges, and yellows filled his eyesight. Their petals blossomed that showed off their extravagant colors to the world, a small pleased smile making its way onto his face. “At least these are the only things alive in this forsaken place.”

He lifted his hand, clenching into a fist as his knuckles collided with the door three times. Shouto took a step back, waiting for the sitter on the other side to open the door. A quiet sigh escaped his being as he rolled his head to one side, feeling the stretch in his neck. “Better not be some old lady, I swear.”

The locks being turned from the other side made him fix his posture. “W-wait! Don’t open the paint bottle, Himarie!!” The woman's voice came from the other side before the door swung open.

A woman with a bright smile greeted him, already knowing about his arrival. Her face was covered in small splotches of different color paint, her once white apron a mess. He noticed her yellow dress underneath the cover, a pattern of sunflowers. 

“S-Shouto!” you chirped in excitement, holding your hand out for him to shake. “It’s an honor to have you here!”

He stared at your hand for a few seconds before sticking his out, shaking your hand with a firm grip. “Of course,” he said before taking his hand back and dropping his arm back by his side.

Your smile seemed to brighten, if possible. Opening the door more for him, you ushered him inside. “Please come in!”

Internally he groaned as he walked inside, looking around the place. It was pretty colorful inside. After all, it was meant for kids younger than five. 

“Sorry for the mess!” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment. “They just finished playing with their toys.”

“Miss Y/N! The paint spilled!” A young boy with red eyes and brown hair stared up at you, tugging on your yellow dress. He noticed a male standing in front of him and gasped, pointing a finger. “S-Shouto!” he yelled in shock, blinking his eyes rapidly.

“S-Shouto?!” a unison of voices spoke up from the room on the side where the other kids were doing their crafts. The sound of feet hitting the rug filled his ears as a group of young children filled his eyesight, their eyes full of amazement. 

“My mommy loves you!”

“You’re my favorite hero!”

“Can you sneeze out fire from your left side?!”

“Himarie!” you snap at the girl for her question. “Please, children, behave yourself! Keep those questions for later!” you sighed at their ridiculous questions as you reached behind your back, untying your apron's knot. “Did you guys clean up your mess?”

The sudden silence swept over the room. That was your answer.

“Go clean up the room, or you can’t ask Shouto any questions.”

That seemed to grab their attention. The children scattered out of the room, yells and sweet giggles coming from them.

“Ah, sorry about that. You know how kids can sometimes be.”

Shouto kept his hardened stare on their childish antics. “Yeah. Sure.”

You awkwardly stood there, clasping your hands together that created a small noise. “Well…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say next. It seemed that he didn’t want to be here.

He didn’t. He had better things to do. He had an improving agency to work on, to stay the best out of everyone in Japan. Not here babysitting a bunch of dirty, messy kids. No matter how hard he tried persuading Deku to take this instead of him, he would reply with the same response.

“No, Shouto. I think you need this more out of everyone. Not even Kacchan needs this.”

He could have laughed, thinking about it now out of all places. The more he thought about it, the more amused he grew. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” you started, your words kicking him out of his head as your eyes staring intently into his dazed heterochromia ones.

“When I got the phone call saying a pro-hero was going to come, I thought Deku would come instead of you.”

“Trust me. I wanted him to come instead.”

Your smile faltered. You didn’t think he would be like this. Ground Zero sure, he’s a different story but not Shouto.

“Oh. You’re one of those then.”

“One of those what?”

You shook your head. Maybe he was just having a bad day? Yeah, that had to be it.

“Nothing. I’m sure the kids are finished and are waiting for you now.”

With that, you walked to the other room where the children were, all surprisingly sitting quiet and still as they waited for the pro hero to come in. Despite being kids, they still held their manners.

Shouto watched you go and groaned softly, mumbling a hard dammit underneath his breath as he followed you. Each child kept their gaze on the older man in front of them.

“Now. Does anyone have any appropriate questions for Shouto?”

One small girl raised her hand. You raised an eyebrow in question. “Himarie? Is this a real question or not?”

“It is!” she gasped and leaned forward, placing her small hands on top of her knees that she was sitting on, “H-how did you become rich?!”

Shouto’s lip curled into a smirk as he pointed an index finger to his head. “Obviously, by working hard, but despite that, it’s all in here—your mind. You need to have the mentality of the best. Without that, you’re nothing. You have to do whatever it takes to be at the top. Not everyone stays up there with you. Some aren’t even worthy of being in the same rank as you. That’s when cutting ties come in. You have to cut those that will be distractions, no matter the cost.”

Pleased with his answer, she leaned back and whispered something to her friend beside her on how cool his response was and wanted to be just like him. You, on the other hand, stared at him like he was crazy. Your hands twitched by your side as you replayed his answer over and over again in your mind. What kind of adult gives that response to a child?

“Uh… was that an appropriate answer, Shouto?”

“Course it was. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t have answered. They need to hear it from the real deal,” he pointed to himself. “If they hear it from someone lower than myself, then it loses its meaning. After all, it doesn’t get any better than me,” he said proudly, a smug look on that handsome face. If you were alone with him, you probably would've slapped the shit out of him to knock some sense into that dense brain of his.

Not being able to form any words, you quickly regain your composure. “Does anyone else have questions?”

More hands shot up quickly. You could already feel the weight of today’s outcome resting on your shoulders. Oh yeah, today was going to be a long day.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

“Bye, Hiko! See you tomorrow, honey!” you waved out for a little boy as he waved back before pointing at the male beside you, telling his father how cool Pro-Hero Shouto was today. 

Shouto watched the interaction with a bitter taste in his mouth. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he crossed his arms over his torso. “So, let’s get the arrangement ready.”

“Arrangement?” you asked, confused about what he meant.

“From keeping this place from shutting down. Ya know, the main reason for the cry of help.”

“Oh yeah,” you mumbled and motioned back inside. “We can talk about the details inside. Is that fine with you, Shouto?”

“Whatever, I don’t care. Just go in. I’m tired of seeing this bad paint job.”

Before you could retort back, he already walked back inside.

“Fucking asshole,” you muttered and followed him, shutting the door behind you. 

He was already seated on the couch, his legs open in a man spread as if he was showing off. His hands were placed on his thighs, his leg bouncing up and down.

You watched his leg bounce for a split second before shaking your head, patting your cheek as you sat across from him, crossing one leg over the other. “Okay well as your assistant told yo-”

“I don’t remember,” he interrupted you, his head lolling to rest his cheek against his shoulder, eyeing you up and down.

“I'm- I’m sorry?” you breathed out, your fingers jumbling up the bottom of your dress.

He sighed and rubbed his temple in a slow circle. “I said, I. Don’t. Remember,” he said slowly, reiterating his point.

“No, no, I heard you the first time,” you leaned back into the couch, rubbing your arm up and down slowly. “Wow, okay. Well, what you should have remembered,” you began, his eyes narrowing at your choice of words. “That this daycare is on the brink of being shut down. Plus, I require materials, and I’m empty-handed.”

“Why don’t their parents pay for it then?”

“Because it goes to the funders. And the funders, guess what? Don’t give a shit anymore!” you gasped in fake surprise, slapping your hands onto your thighs to prove your point. “And that’s why I need your help, Shouto.”

“Why not just do some small fundraising on the side? Like a bake sale or something.”

“I have, and it works for maybe a month before the money's all gone. It can only go for so long...and I love these kids,” you whispered the last part quietly, almost too softly, but he caught on the last second.

For a moment, he felt his pride wash away as he watched you quietly. In all of his life, he couldn’t remember someone willing to do anything just to save something for him or anyone around him. His father couldn’t do that. His mom was out of the picture most of the time, and his siblings moved on with their own lives. Yet he couldn’t pinpoint his current emotion digging into the cave he built many years ago and trying to pull him back to shore. 

“How bout this then.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, a small smirk growing on his face.

“I’m listening.” 

“How about you go on a date with me? Then I’ll help. You’re pretty, very pretty, in fact, and I would love to take you out. Fair exchange, right? Seems good in my book.”

Already knowing you’ll say yes, he didn’t need to push it any further. Shouto always got what Shouto wanted. His head was so far up his ass he didn’t see the frown forming on your lips, his vision clouded with something else.

“No.”

Shouto’s eyes widened as he snapped his head upward. “You- I’m sorry, what? What did you say?”

“I said, no,” you repeated, your arms crossing over your chest. “What kind of a deal is that? You want to go down that road?”

Shouto continued to stare at you, his mouth parted open for words that didn’t come out. He was still in complete shock. Rejected. Denied. You said no.

You said no to Todoroki Shouto.

“W-why did you say no? Why didn’t you say yes?” he questioned, his nails digging into his pants, almost feeling it on his skin.

“I can already tell, your head is so far up your ass that you can’t see the real problem at hand. Look, if you don’t want to help, I’ll just do it myself. I don’t know if you know, but that’s a pretty dick move,” you snapped, standing up abruptly. “Now excuse me, I have to close up so please see yourself out.”

Still stuck in his little world, he scrambled off the couch and followed you. You didn’t want to date him. Many women and men would be begging to be in your position. They would have called you stupid for your answer. He remembered the number of times he attended the hero ratings, and his fans would beg for a night with him. All the time, he said no because, in his eyes, they weren’t worthy enough. No one was worthy enough to be with him. No one was on his level, however, you were.

When you first opened the door, he felt the air knocked out from his lungs. You were captivating. Perfect even. He noticed the loving gaze you had in your eyes when talking to those children. It was something he longed for. Something he wished he could have had as a young child. Now, as a successful adult, he didn’t understand why you rejected him. Shouto knew how handsome he was. Many reporters told him that on the daily. On top of that, his agency was the best in all of Japan. 

So then why did you say no?

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Since then, Shouto’s visits to your daycare became a regular thing. He would force his sidekicks to do the awful paperwork so he could visit you instead. Like the day before, he came again, carrying two drinks, one for you and him. Sometimes both of you would stand in the courtyard and watch the kids run around and enjoy themselves. Words weren’t spoken between you most of the time, but you enjoyed it when they were. It was like he had a new sudden change of perspective.

The kids, of course, loved it. Every time he left, they begged for you to call him and make him come by repeatedly. The days he didn’t visit weren’t the same. The energy was much lower, the kids not wanting to participate in the activities you had for them. It got to the point where you had to put him on speaker and had him talk to them, saying that if they didn’t listen to you, he wouldn’t bring treats for them on his next visit. Let’s just say they got their treats. 

On Shouto’s end of the deal, he did as he promised. Money started piling up for the daycare center. The first order of business he did was remodeling it. The old chipped paint outside was replaced with fresher color, giving it new life. He ordered dozens of different flowers to decorate the courtyard and the front, which were bland until the colorful additions. That part wasn’t needed, it was the good in him deciding you required it. 

Better materials were bought with the funding he did. Sometimes it might have been a bit too much. From time to time, you forced him to stop buying things because you were running short on storage.

“And?”

“W-well, there’s no more room for those in the closet, so stop bringing!”

“..okay and? If that’s the problem, then we’ll build something bigger for you and the kids.”

“Huh?!”

With the amount of time you spent with him, the more times you caught yourself slipping. There were times as you watched him lift someone to climb a tree or hold them in the air as they ‘flew,’ which made you think about how he would be as an actual dad. He was great with the kids, no doubt about that, but the more you thought, the more you wondered how it would be if you got in a relationship with him.

Was he kind? Was he still snobby and thought he was the best? Or was that all an act? Did he care for those around him?

As you thought about him by yourself, the heat in your cheeks was a slow sign that you were catching feelings. It was something you weren’t proud of, but it was there. He made your heart beat faster when he stood beside you, your shoulders brushing against each other or the subtle hand to hand touches when he took something from your arms to hold instead. Small touches turned into small kisses on the cheek, to something bigger. 

The first time you and Shouto entangled in his sheets, it felt wrong on so many levels. He was intoxicating. He was a predator luring in his prey, reading to pounce when you were least expecting it. It was something you shouldn’t be doing. It was so wrong. Yet you couldn’t find yourself stopping. Waking up in his arms was an ongoing thing for as long as you could remember. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t catch any feelings for the bi-colored man, but of course, your brain and heart had a mind of their own. 

Shouto, on the other hand, had what he wanted. He knew you would snap soon, coming to your senses. Having you underneath him, calling for his name and his name only made him swell with pride. He was an irresistible man, and he knew how to use his charms, for better or worse. He lured you in with gifts (which you were grateful for each but refused whenever he brought something new for you), affection, and attention. What kind of girl didn’t want that?

You apparently. You cared for the simple things. The diamond necklace didn’t do justice to the bouquet of roses that you loved with all your heart. Each gift you received, you always smile. But you never received a gift with open arms. Your responses were always… so different than what he expected. He expected you to be crying with joy, glad he bought you the latest wear or anything expensive. Not rejecting him and telling him he could use his money for something more useful. Money bought him fame. Money bought him power. Wealth made him who he was. 

He was a hero after all, and you were a mere care sitter. The both of you were in two completely different worlds, worlds that could never collide. The rich colliding with the not-so-rich. Something rare in the hero world. The thought of you fooling around with each other brought excitement to the table. It got to the point where you stopped showing up. With the sudden change of behavior, the questioning began on his behalf. Why did you stop showing up? Were you uninterested in him now? 

“I can’t keep doing this, Shouto.”

“I know you can’t Y/N. Why can’t you? Don’t you think I deserve a reason, princess?”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“Oh, you aren’t now? Guess you can kiss that daycare goodbye then.”

“Why are you such an asshole?!” you cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders as you shook him with urgency. “Is this some sort of game to you?! Can’t you see it?! I fucking like you, you fucking prick! Your head is swelled up with this complex that you can’t see anything else but yourself! You carry a mirror at all times and just stare in your reflection!”

“Y/N-”

“No! I’m talking! You shut your fucking mouth because it’s my turn to talk!”

“I like you.”

“You cause so mu- Wait, what?”

“I said. I. Like. You.”

“Y-you… you like me?” you squeaked, your hands slowly loosening their grip on his body, embarrassment flooding through your veins. 

“Well, that’s what I just said, no?”

Ever since that encounter with him, you went on many private dates, preferably the ones where you stayed the night as he would cook soba for you, the one thing he seems to eat. 

The media caught sight of you leaving his place at odd times in the morning, the headlines always saying the same thing.

Fling or Thing?! Random woman spotted leaving Pro Hero Shouto’s house!

Every time you read the news online, your first reaction was to tell Shouto about it. His response was always the same. “Don’t worry about it. I love you, alright? The media will eat up anything. Don’t let it get to your head.” How could you not? Your face was plastered on every social site known to man.

A swarm of paparazzi surrounded both of you as you were spotted getting coffee. An angry scowl was plastered on his usually calm exterior. His arm was draped around your shoulder protectively, holding you closer to his tense body. 

“Shouto, who is this woman?! Is she a one-time thing?!”

“Shouto, is she like the last?! Another once more?!”

“Is she a hero?! Who is she?! Give us answers!”

“Keep your head down,” he muttered into your ear, pushing past them with force as he desperately tried getting both of you out of there. His hand palmed the small of your back, his car in sight. With all the craziness happening, your hand clutched the white t-shirt he was wearing, the material clumped between your fingers. 

A cameraman got in your face, the flashing lights temporarily blinding you as you got swallowed by the fame. “Who are you?! Are you dating?! Are you like the last girl?!”

“Hey!” Shouto yelled, shooting a hand in front of the camera, his hands gripping the lens as frost started to swallow it whole. “Ever heard of personal space?! Because I don’t think you have!” His shoulders heaved up and down with his pants, his eyes blinded by red hot anger. “Get out of here.”

“Hey man, I’m just doing my job!”

“Does it look like I fucking care?! Get the fuck away!” he stood up, his chest puffing out slightly as he got in the male’s face, glaring into his eyes. 

“Shouto,” you whispered, your hand reaching out to wrap around his wrist. “P-people are watching. We should leave.”

Placing a hand on the paparazzi’s shoulder, Shouto leaned in closer with his lips, ghosting his ear. “Remember. I could ruin your whole career if I wanted to. Who will the public believe more? Some mere shitty cameraman, or one of the most loved Pro-Heroes to ever exist? Not one to brag but..” he trailed off, his fingers digging into the man’s shoulders, causing a groan of pain to leave his lips.

“I always get what I want. No matter what.”

Pushing himself away, Shouto turned sharply on his heel and engulfed your smaller hand in his larger one. His pace was fast due to his long legs, causing you to jog slightly from behind. From the back, you could hear the faint growls and whispers coming from Shouto’s angry self. Blinded by anger, his grip on your hand tightened by the second. 

“S-Shouto, you’re hurting me!”

Coming to his senses, his eyes widened in realization as he let go of your hand. You immediately brought it to your chest, rubbing the pain to soothe it. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips, lingering them on your knuckles. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay… I can see why you get upset over it…”

Noticing your change in demeanor, he peered down at you, staring at you through his lashes. “What’s wrong?”

Deciding it was now or never, you sighed softly as you looked up at him. “One of them back there asked if I was like ‘the last girl’. What does that mean?”

He pursed his lips, licking the lower. “That’s something you don’t have to worry about. It was years ago. My high school years. I practically forgot about it.”

“A-are you sure?” you stuttered, hesitating to push it any further. “It seems pretty big if they keep bringing it up.”

“I said no.” he snapped, regretting his tone of voice when he noticed your taken aback look. “Look… I rather not talk about it, okay? Let’s go get the rest of the supplies, okay?”

Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded as you reached for his hand, entwining your fingers. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

It’s been months since the fateful day Pro-Hero Shouto arrived at your center. It was safe to say the funders suddenly started caring. You had your suspicions about why they did, but decided to steer clear from it. Ads were displayed everywhere. Each week more parents signed up their kids. You even got resumes for prospecting employees. Shouto was a pain in the ass, but you were thankful nonetheless.

A pair of twins were last. Shouto was off from patrol today and decided to help around the hectic place. He was currently playing hero with a young boy as you sat down under a sakura tree, his twin sister sitting in front of you as she begged for you to braid her hair.

You hummed softly, twisting and moving the locks of hair as gently as you could, afraid of hurting her.

“Miss Y/N?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Are you and Shouto getting married?”

“Huh?!” A surprised noise left your lips, your cheeks darkening at her innocent question. Marriage was way out of the question. You and Shouto have only been dating for 7. You were nowhere near ready.

“W-what makes you think that?!”

“Well, in the stories, the princess meets her prince, and they get married! Isn’t Shouto your prince?”

“Ah...” you laughed nervously as you brushed off the jitters. “Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t.” You glanced up and found Shouto already staring at you, a grim look in his eyes. You frowned as you tilted your head slightly, your mouth forming the words, ‘are you okay?’

He turned around, his back to you as he waved at an upcoming parent, which he assumed was their father. 

“Akia, your dad is here!”

The little girl in front of you sprang up from the ground, her hair now in a loose flowy braid. “Thank you, Miss Y/N! I love it!”

A loving smile made its way on your lips as you caressed her cheek with the back of your hand gently. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay!” She quickly wrapped her small arms around your legs before letting go just as quickly. Her short legs moved as she ran to Shouto, jumping up to hit his high five.

“Bye-bye, ShouShou!”

“Bye, guys. See you soon.”

After watching the two leave, Shouto walked past you, bumping his shoulder with yours. You stumbled slightly as you regained your balance. “Uh, are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you acting like that?”

“This is always how I act.”

“No..” you trailed off, following him inside the central area. “Are you sure there isn’t anything bothering you?”

“Actually.” He stopped moving, his shoulders tensed up with his hands balled into fists by his side. You stopped moving as well, noticing the small flame appearing on his left side. 

“Shou-”

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said. Shut. Up.” he sneered, turning around to face you, his intense stare heating up by the second.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this again?” you snapped, your own hands balled into fists. “Why are you acting like the dick you were when we first met?”

“When we first met? What makes you think I changed? Don’t be stupid,” he laughed before going serious once more. “I haven’t changed. I think the one that changed is you. You live in this little world where you think everyone will help you succeed.”

“Me? I’m the one who does that shit? Ever looked in your fucking mirror? If anyone is stuck in their world, it’s you!”

“Haven’t you noticed something, sweetheart” he whispered, advancing towards you. He backed you up into a corner, his hand placing beside your head with your smaller body under his. “Notice how more and more people are talking about me?” his lips grazed your ear shell, his tongue peeking out to trace the shape. “It’s all thanks to you.”

Realization dawned on you. You always read the news, whether it is related to you or not. News was scattered across Japan as on goers took photos of the pro hero in a relaxed nature, something no one ever saw. It was a rare sight. Each hero had their gentle side, and they finally saw his. He was one of the best, but he was also the best in everything he did. 

“To… to me?” you whispered. A smirk formed on his lips as his finger curled underneath your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

“Just you, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning down as his lips ghosted yours, his hot breath fanning your face. “Now I’m all Japan talks about. You got what you wanted, and I got what I wanted.”

You gritted your teeth as you pushed him off of your body rather abruptly. “Shut up. That’s not true.”

“Oh? Is it not? How much longer are you going to deny it? When are you going to learn Y/N? I’m Shouto! One or if not the greatest hero out there! I always get what I want. You were nothing but a stepping stool. Thanks to you, my ratings skyrocketed. Just what I wanted. I should thank my assistant for this opportunity because god, if Deku took this and advanced before me, I don’t know what I would do.” 

Tears welled up on your lower lashes as you desperately wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. He was right. You were gullible to think someone of his ranking would like you, someone way lower than him. 

“You’re a sick fucking person, you know that?” you spoke through choked sobs. “I thought you were changing. You don’t care about anyone. You rather see those around you to die than save them. How can you call yourself a hero if you can’t even feel for the public? You are the worst hero ever.” You kept your chin up with tears flowing effortlessly. “I should have known how you were when we first met. God, do you even have any humanity?!” you suddenly yelled, walking up to him with your finger jabbing into his chest.

“You think you’re a fucking hero?! You're a goddamn villain! You don’t even care about kids! People like you make me sick!”

You didn’t care if you sounded hysterical. You didn’t care about anything but letting out your feelings. Your boyfriend– ex-boyfriend used you for his gain. You couldn’t describe how you felt. All these months, all i love you’s, gifts, dates were nothing but a mere lie. Oh, what a story you had for your grandkids.

“I never want to see your stupid face anywhere near this place, or anyone! Everyone deserves to know the truth. Pro-Hero Shouto, a fake! A fraud! But because I’m nowhere like you,” you whispered, grabbing him by his shirt's collar. “I cared about your selfish ass. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your career. I know you worked hard for it.”

You walked forward with him in his grasp, leading him to the door. “That girl? I did my research. It turns out you pulled a stunt like this before. Guess I’m not the only one to be fooled by the famous Shouto Todoroki, huh?” you spat, your lips dripping with venom as you stopped by the door. “Shouto Todoroki strikes again, once more,” you grunted, letting go of him.

“Y/N.”

“Y/LN. Not like you’ll need that anyway. Do me a favor. You can do that, right?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Get the fuck away from me.” Your hand placed on the wood, slamming the door shut in his face. You panted softly, your tense form relaxing slowly. You stifled a sob as your fist hit the door, your forehead coming forward to hit the cold wood. You got played. And he didn’t even care. He would probably brush it off and walk into his office, pretending nothing happened. Shouto was a beautiful curse. One that you wished that you didn’t make a deal with. The next time you saw him in public, you wouldn’t acknowledge him. Now, he was simply a stranger. A ghost that didn’t deserve your time. 

Shouto, on the other side of the door, stayed still, not able to comprehend what to do.

No, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He loves you, and this wasn’t supposed to happen. He loves you, Shouto is in love with you. He wanted to help you with the kids. He loved seeing you at ease when one of the children complimented you that day because of your clothing or hair. He loves seeing the small blush dusting your cheeks as you woke up beside him, memories of the night before flooding it. 

Oh. But he was heartless.

Shouto Todoroki was a smart, handsome, successful man. He knew his way around people, tricking them for his success. He was relentless. He was cunning. He was manipulative. His award-winning smile had those around him swooning. His selfishness got the best of him. Who could blame him, though? He worked hours through his sweat and tears to be where he was currently, at the top with no competition. He was the best. 

And the best always got what they wanted.  

[darlingsdevil]

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 5: The Flesh Failures

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Of The Valley Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (please comment to be added or removed): @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @cowboyfrazer @scarletpines @mikah-writes @writersblockincoming @sleepylunarwolf

A/N: Thank you guys so so much for all this support, it’s genuinely astounding! Your guys comments really make my day!

•••

There was no way you were pregnant. Absolutely no way. It was a stupid thought. You couldn’t be pregnant, there was no possibility of that.

You were probably just sick from dinner last night. It was common. Especially since Tommy couldn’t manage to find any fresh ingredients. It was definitely the stew, you assured yourself. Not a chance you could be carrying a baby.

When was the last time you had your period? Two months? Even before that? It was probably just the stress that caused you to miss it, or forget about it entirely. That was most likely it. You were okay. There was no baby.

“You alright in there?” Joel’s gruff voice asked from the other side of the door.

His question didn’t even register for a few seconds.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You said, trying to keep the pain out of your voice, regardless it still came out weak and painful.

“Why do you sound like you’re on the floor?”

You got up quickly and opened the door for him. “I’m fine.”

Joel stared at you in confusion and glanced over your shoulder. The nausea was making it hard to stand up straight, but you managed, as wobbly as you looked.

“Are you sure? You don’t look too well,” Joel interrogated you.

“I’m good. Just feeling a little sick.” The nausea was slowly increasing, causing your stomach and head to feel much worse. Your body began feeling warmer.

“We can head back right now to Jackson if you aren’t feeling well,” Joel suggested, his eyes filled with worry.

As much as you wanted to go home, you still owed Maria. You couldn’t give her a half assed job, even though Tommy could have finished it easily.

“Whatever Tommy thinks is best,” You dismissed as you leaned against the counter, feeling the sickness wash over you.

“I don’t think Tommy would want you getting sick on the job.”

“Well, let’s just run it by him first,” You managed to get out as you felt your stomach churn. It was too damn bright in here and the sound of Joel’s voice was almost too loud.

“Okay. I’ll go get him.” Joel left the bathroom in search of Tommy while you tried to balance yourself on the counter.

This was not the first time you were sick in the morning. It was common enough that you didn’t bat an eye at it. It was surely that.

There was no way you were pregnant.

Tommy and Joel came back a few moments later.

“How you feeling?” Tommy asked you, stepping into the bathroom with you.

“Not that good. Did any of you guys get sick last night from the food?” You wondered. Joel and Tommy shook their heads, eyeing you cautiously.

“No. I don’t think Ellie did either. Maybe you got sick from the bar,” Tommy suggested.

“That’s probably it. I heard the daycare got hit pretty badly with the stomach flu, maybe Denise or Charlie came to the bar and spread it,” You replied, making up excuses you hoped to be true. Denise and Charlie were the owners of the daycare.

“Last I heard they didn’t get it. Not many of the parents did either. Could be something else though, who knows,” Tommy answered. Your stomach was feeling worse and worse, going out and finishing off the rest of the infected seemed nearly impossible now.

You were quiet, trying to quell your intrusive thoughts and your stomach pain.

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. Maria will understand,” Tommy assured you. Maria would understand, that was given, but she had begged you to do the job outside of town, you didn’t want to let her down. But you were not going to do another job again out here, as easy as this one was, you had to put your foot down. You couldn’t risk having to go back outside of a Jackson again.

“I have to finish this job,” You grumbled. You really weren’t looking forward to throwing up in front of Joel and Tommy. They needed to leave.

“You’re looking awfully sick. I don’t think it’s best if we go out again,” Joel said this time, Tommy nodded in agreement.

“I’m not going back out here to finish the job if I go back,” You replied firmly.

“I can finish it off. Joel will take you back with Ellie,” Tommy said.

You nodded, someone would have to explain it to Maria when you got back, and then you would return to your normalcy, however that looked from now on.

“Just don’t take too long. Maria will get worried,” You told Tommy, wincing in pain.

“I would never. She would have my head on a spike.”

•••

Joel, you, and Ellie set out for Jackson once again. Levia was happy to see you, you hoped it wasn’t too cold for her and Caesar in the garage.

Ellie and Joel were mostly quiet for awhile. Everything was quiet, you hated it. There was only the clicking of hooves and the gentle noises from the horses.You passed through the abandoned buildings and streets with ease, there was no infected, but wildlife was abundant, although autumn was quickly killing off the land.

Yet you couldn’t take your mind off everything that happened. Would you even be able to return to normal with your friends? Was that even an option anymore? You shut them out for three months, they felt betrayed. You were worried about Ellie in particular, a lot seemingly happened with her and Joel. You couldn’t place your finger on the severity of it, you prayed you would be able to mediate it soon, if you could.

And then there was the possibility of you being pregnant. Was there a possibility of you being pregnant?

You looked down at your abdomen briefly. Was there life inside of there? Was there a baby and you had no idea for three months? There was a small bump.. when had that gotten there? It was just from the change in your occupation, patrol was a lot more physically demanding, you told yourself.

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought raising a child. Especially in a world as cruel as this one. You were barely able to manage yourself these days, let alone a baby.

Your mind was on high alert, though you didn’t let it show. Not even when every toss and turn made you feel sick. Your stomach was still feeling as awful as ever, you were sure it would last most of the day.

You wanted nothing more than to be in bed at your home. Despite the memories held there, you could care less.

Ellie and Joel were talking up ahead. Neither of the two seemed particularly pleased with each other. Their words were muffled, both speaking quietly as they trotted next to each other, nipped sentences and awkward silence. It was uncomfortable for even you to watch.

•••

You snuck quietly back into town, Joel and Ellie handed Levia back to the stables, taking your rifle with them, Joel offering to explain it to Maria while you got some rest while you went back to your house at the edge of town. It was a nicer house, small but homey. It was in one of the neighborhoods near the north district. Though your backyard wasn’t next to the wall, you were only a street away.

It was a craftsman style home. The flowers on your porch had long since died, your lawn was neglected too. Your neighbor was kind enough to cut it occasionally since your property wasn’t too big, but you felt embarrassed knowing that you hadn’t taken care of it, and that it was noticeable. Mark liked cutting the grass especially.

Two chairs out on the front porch, dusty from lack of use, you sighed, adding property care to your list of to-do’s. You opened the front door with your key, pulling off your shoes as you entered.

“I’m home,” You mumbled quietly, hoping perhaps someone would hear you. But no one did, and no one would. You lived alone these days.

Your house was painfully quiet. And you hated quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the life you lived three months ago. Dancing to music in your kitchen while you made dinner, the flickering candle in the corner creating a warm glow, children laughing outside, spraying each other with a hose. The buzzing sound of cicadas outside, the heat of early July on the blacktop, a man who loved you in the corner cutting watermelon. You missed it. You missed it dearly.

Now there was a cold, dark, house, devoid of any life. There was no music, there was no glow, there was no sound. Only the cold, dusty air, a bedroom empty yet filled with things, boxes of records you would never touch again.

You were tired, sickly feeling. There was no one to hold your hair back while you emptied your stomach, no one to hug you while you cried. There was no one here now, just an empty house and an even emptier woman, your secrets suffocating you.

•••

Ellie and Joel returned to their respective rooms for the day.

Ellie was planning on going out with Cat later in the day to watch a movie or two, maybe sneak out at night to go down to the lake with a few other friends, smoke some pot, eat some s’mores, steal a six pack. Normal teenage things. Ellie just wanted to take her mind off things again and not have to worry about her old man.

Joel had nothing on his agenda for today. He had things to do on his day off yesterday, but it was too late in the day to get started on them now. So instead, he decided to finish a carving he had begun, a sparrow. It was a nice enough hobby, it kept his mind off things and it was time consuming. He was using a book Ellie had gotten him for his birthday a few years back as a reference. He was thinking about giving the carving to Maria, he had enough carvings as is.

Later in the day, when the sun was beginning to set Maria knocked on Joel’s door. Ellie left with her friend Cat, he saw them through the window of his bedroom earlier, he wondered where they were going.

“Maria, Tommy,” Joel said as he opened the door, noticing Tommy was with her. He was glad his brother had made it home safely.

“May we come in?” Maria asked, glancing through his door behind him.

Joel opened the door further and let them in. It wasn’t unusual for Maria and Tommy to visit him, sometimes just wanting to socialize, other times coming to him for the odd job or two, or patrol reports.

Joel went into the living room and sat down in his chair, Tommy and Maria going for the couch. They exchanged a look before speaking. Joel immediately knew something was up.

“How was it yesterday?” Maria asked.

“Tommy didn’t fill you in?” Joel replied, raising a brow.

“He did. I want your take on it.”

Joel was perplexed until he remembered yesterday was supposed to be a test for you, he would just be grading it.

“On what exactly?” Joel pressed.

“Y/N. How she did,” Maria corrected.

“She panicked when she shot that first pack of infected. Was hard for her to do the second round too, but she managed,” Joel shrugged, there wasn’t much else to say.

Maria nodded her head. “And her shooting, still as sharp as everyone says?”

Joel nodded in response. You were always a good shot.

“What’s all this testing stuff even for? Why is everyone being so damn secretive?”

Maria and Tommy looked at one another, Tommy began to say something but Maria shook her head, stopping him.

“We want her back on patrol. She asked me not to say anything to you, but I think it would be best if I did. Something happened out there with her, it’s why she went off the grid,” Maria said, her words serious and careful.

Joel knew of this already. Tommy had told him yesterday too.

“What happened?” Joel questioned, trying to piece together the complex puzzle.

“As head of Jackson, it’s not my place to say. But because I’m her friend I think it’s best if you know.”

“Okay,” Joel trailed off, wondering what Maria was going to say.

“Mark died on patrol while they were together.” Maria confessed.

“Mark Lane? As in Y/N’s Mark?”

Tommy and Maria both nodded grimly.

Joel cursed under his breath before speaking to them. No wonder he hadn’t seen him around town, then again he hadn’t seen you much either. But Mark was dead? They hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but they were well enough acquaintanced. Mark was an amazing patrolman, a little under the radar, but his talent was well known.

“How’d he die?” Joel asked.

“Just died out on patrol,” Tommy replied, his eyes boring into Joel’s. Joel took the hint.

“Is that why she has been avoiding everyone?”

“I tried to get her to talk to you, I did. She wouldn’t budge,” Maria said to Joel.

“You should have told me.”

“I told Y/N it was her call and she asked me not to mention it, so I did. But it’s dragged on too long, we need her now,” Maria told him. Joel nodded understandingly.

“For what? We have enough people on patrol as is. Ellie’s moving up, she can take Y/N’s place.”

“I told her I wouldn’t put her on patrol anymore, but we have word of a large horde of infected heading directly our way as we speak. We’re dividing assigned patrollers and future volunteers into groups, we need Y/N as the leader of our sniping group,” She explained carefully.

“A horde?” Joel asked dumbfounded. He had never in his life been even caught in one. He knew New York City was one big horde now, as well as Los Angeles and Miami, he had ran from large groups of infected, sure, but he had never been close to a horde.

“We can take them. We already have our traders coming early to bring supplies. Best case scenario, the horde barely misses us for the winter, worst case scenario, we lose some people in the fight, but we can kill this many infected, we have the manpower to do it,” Tommy replied determinedly.

“We have groups of infected coming up here every damn winter, what makes this one any different?”

“The difference is that this is a large horde. Bigger than any one we’ve seen yet, our people down south said we need to prepared, we can’t risk this horde getting close to town,” Tommy explained to him.

“And where do I fit into this?” Joel asked. The sun was setting further now, it was beginning to get darker. The street lamps turned on outside. Halloween was in a few weeks, he had been meaning to decorate. It was Sarah’s favorite holiday, they always went all out. Perhaps he would light an autumn candle tonight and make some fall comfort food — hearty soup or pasta.

“You’ll be head of our field patrol with Tommy, along with a few others. Tommy and you will coordinate defenses, you’ll be out on the frontlines,” Maria was the one to explain this time.

Joel’s heart began beating faster, he couldn’t sit back and watch his friends fight a horde of infected, he was glad he would be fighting alongside them.

“And the sniper unit?”

“That’s where Y/N comes in. Where our frontliners can’t work, we’ll have our snipers lead,” Maria claimed. They would have a good chance, especially with the supplies and manpower Jackson had.

“When is this horde due to hit us?” Joel asked. All they would need is a couple days, lots of molotovs and explosives and ammo to pick off this pack

“Right now it’s looking like early December. We expect the horde to leave some stragglers behind through cities they pass so it won’t be quite as big as it is looking right now,” His brother explained.

Jackson being hit by a horde? Joel was more worried about the people of Jackson panicking, the frenzied fear of people was sometimes more dangerous than a group of infected.

“Have you told Y/N about this?” Joel asked Maria quietly.

She shook her head gently, “I don’t want to spring this all on her so quickly. We just need to ease her into this, I’m sure it’s all very overwhelming right now.”

Joel understood well enough. Losing someone you were close with is never easy, he was well acquainted in that department, he knew the pain that came with it. He would talk with you later about it, but first he would take you to the lake like he had promised.

•••

Maria came by at night, holding a box of cookies, waking you from your nap. At least your stomach had stopped hurting, yet you still felt beyond tired, your whole body ached.

“Hey,” You greeted her softly as you opened the door, your eyes still adjusting to the light.

“I heard you got sick earlier, how are you feeling?” She asked as you let her in. You could smell the leaves as you opened the door, the slight remnants of the crisp autumn air from last night still lingering in your mind.

“Better, not sure what came over me,” You sighed, shutting the door while you both stood by the door.

“Do you think you can go into work tomorrow?” Maria asked you, her eyes softening.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’m good,” You said quickly with a shrug, playing it off.

“Are you sure you’re not getting sick? Flu is common around this time of year, working in a bar probably wouldn’t make it better.”

“I’m fine, Maria, seriously,” You reassured her.

“Have you gotten sick at all recently?” She continued.

“Yeah, I get sick usually in the morning, I’m sure it’s just because of my nerves and what not,” You confessed to her. Maria’s eyes widened briefly.

“You look a little flushed.. you’re one hundred percent sure you’re not getting sick? Or that this isn’t something else?” She emphasized on the last sentence.

Your mind wrestled with itself, should you tell Maria you think you may be pregnant? She would be supportive of you surely and would make sure to accommodate you.. but you didn’t want her to fret and you weren’t even totally convinced.

“I don’t feel sick now, it’s probably nothing,” You said, attempting to reassure not only her but yourself too.

“Okay well, how was yesterday then?”

“Joel’s angry with me. Ellie’s angry too,” You sighed, looking down at your shoes.

“They’ll come around eventually. But patrol went off without a hitch?” She redirected the question, dismissing your original statement.

“I guess, I’m glad it’s over though.” Patrol hadn’t gone off without a hitch, in fact, it was anything but smooth, but at least you had gotten some work done. You were sure Tommy or Joel had already told her all about it.

“Good. Well, it’s getting late, I still have to go stop by Ellie’s room when she gets back from wherever the hell she is, so goodnight. I hope you like the cookies,” Maria said, handing you the tin of cookies.

You looked out into the street, your neighbors had already put up some decorations for Halloween. Mark had a love-hate relationship with Halloween, sure he got candy and could indulge in as much as he wanted, but when he was little he had tripped and fell on Halloween and broke an arm and the year after that he had broken his other arm on the same night. His birthday was near Halloween too, hence why you teased him and called him Devil Boy. He hated the nickname, but it didn’t stop him from teasing you right back.

There wasn’t much Trick-or-Treating in Jackson, people carved pumpkins and made costumes and went to the Halloween party, but you always missed seeing little kids go door to door, their eyes bright as they shouted for candy. You were only a kid too when Trick-Or-Treating died out.. it was one of the things you missed the most.

You picked up your box of cookies and examined it, it seemed Maria had made chocolate chip, her specialty. You decided to eat a few now before you went to bed again, you got up from the couch and placed the box on the counter.

A movie sounded nice too, so you went to go retrieve a blanket from your bed. You grabbed the heavy blanket and folded it in your hands, looking over at your calendar by your bed. Luckily, someone in Jackson had kept up with the days and made yearly calendars, it saved you a lot of trouble.

You forgot to mark off some days, so you picked up the marker on your bedside table and began crossing off the days that had already passed, then you noticed something.

You had put the days on your calendar where your period would come, months in advance so you could plan around it.. you had missed your period by a week.

It was just a coincidence.. a few coincidences in a row. Then you looked back at your other months.. you didn’t remember having your period on any of those days…

“There’s no way I’m fucking pregnant,” You said quickly, panic rising in your voice.

“There’s no way, no way at all,” You muttered, your breathing unsteady. You flipped through all the way back to July, remembering the Fourth of July.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” You shouted, realization hitting you like a tidal wave, hot tears forming in your eyes. You were pregnant. There was no doubt in your mind now.

You sat down on your bed and tried wiping away your tears with a shaky head. A thousand thoughts raced through your head, how would you raise a child? You knew nothing about childcare. The last thing you wanted to do would be to bring a child into a world as cruel and unforgiving as this one.

You felt angry, confused, cheated, scared for your baby’s future. You couldn’t give the baby a conventional childhood, there was none of that now. Raising a child on your own was scary enough as it is, you weren’t fit to be a mother.

How could you be so careless and not see any of the warning signs? How could you even let this happen? You were three months pregnant and not once did you think of the possibility you could be before today. The morning sickness, increased fatigue, nausea to certain smells, heightened moods and appetite? The warning signs were right there in front of you, how had you missed every single one of them?

How would you even tell anyone about it? Would Maria truly understand? Would she look down at you for not being careful enough?

And Joel? How would he react? There was enough you were keeping from him already.. you could only keep this secret for a few more weeks anyways.

How would your life look with a child? Limited freedoms? Always having someone to look out for? Perhaps it was selfish to think that way.. there was supposed to be unconditional love between a mother and child

Yet there was a spark of hope in your heart. The thought of having a little one giggling as you held them, their bright eyes twinkling up at you, their tiny fingers so gentle, curling around your own.

Maybe things would turn out okay for you and your child, Jackson was much better than raising a child in a QZ or outside of one, it was the closest thing you would get to a normal civilization. There were other children around in Jackson too, a daycare, a school, playgrounds, other families who would help you.

You rubbed your stomach gently, wiping away all your tears, thinking of the good and the bad that would come out of this situation. There was the sound of a child’s laughter or the sound of a gunshot, which one would resonate louder?

•••

[mimymomo]

Orphydice Weathering With You AU Part 2

I’m just gonna get straight to it!

...

Eurydice’s standing outside the backdoor of the bar. The alleyway is barely lit under the cloudy sky. She’s holding a bag filled with cheap snacks, deli sandwiches, and chips she bought at the store.

And she’s nervous af

What was she doing here? She was in an alleyway behind a bar where she’s supposed to be meeting a boy she barely knows (a cute boy sure) who can also control the weather?!

“Hello, Eurydice!” The girl jumps as she notices the backdoor she’s been staring at is wide open and being held by the boy plaguing her brain. “H-hey, Orpheus.”

The boy leads her inside and up the stairs to the house section of the mixed-use building. He and Mr. Hermes live above the bar. Once they reach his room, Eurydice holds out the bag she’s been gripping, “I bought these. Sorry I didn’t know what you like so-” “No, no this perfect! Thank you Eurydice,” he smiled causing the girl to unwillingly blush. Wth was wrong with her today??

Orpheus pulls her into the kitchen/living room hybrid and starts prepping their lunch while Eurydice looks around. There are pictures on shelves and on the walls of Orpheus in varying ages. Baby, a toddler with baby food painted across his mouth, cheeks, chubby fingers and even forehead? A picture of him standing outside of a classroom holding a sign that said “first day of kindergarten,” school photos, photos of him playing a guitar, writing, at the bar, nearly every picture is of him smiling. She even sees photos of a familiar man she can’t put a name on and...Persephone and Hades? She has to ask Orpheus about that.

Then she sees something. Eurydice reaches out to grab a frame that’s been knocked over and hidden, facing photo down. Carefully flipping it over, it’s an old photograph, the corners bent and worn with some discoloration from the years. It a picture of a woman holding a months old child. She’s smiling but eleven from the photo Eurydice can tell it’s not genuine. The baby is staring at someone, not looking directly at the camera. It must be Orpheus but who was the woman? 

“That’s my mother.” Eurydice whips around to see Orpheus, smiling slightly but there’s a trace of sadness behind his expression. “My dad left before I was born and that sent my mom into a downward spiral. She never wanted a kid, especially not one who was...“difficult to raise,” he emphasized with air quotes. “So she left me with Mr. Hermes when I was about 5 months. That’s the last pic we have of her and me together.”

Eurydice didn’t know what to say, she knew that Orpheus didn’t live with his mother but that was... “I’m sorry Orpheus.” Orpheus shakes his head, “no it’s fine. I think it worked out for the better. I love Mr. Hermes and my family and life here.” He said all that with a smile, no sadness to be found. “Do you have any family Eurydice?” Caught off-guard by the question, Eurydice ponders what to say. “No, no I don’t.”

The two eat and Eurydice pitches the idea she originally came to discuss: starting a partnership with Orpheus. “You want me to start changing the weather for money?” Orpheus is extremely hesitant at first because it doesn’t seem right to charge money for it but Eurydice convinces him (it will help him raise money for Hermes/expenses, spread joy for others she will handle the business part and all he has to do his the singing/weather changing). The two come to an agreement and even upload an ad on Craigslist for their services.

As they’re finishing up Mr. Hermes comes up and asks them what they’re doing. Eurydice finally figures out where she recognized the man from- she met him at Seph’s shop. “You’re Mr. Hermes?” she screams, less at Hermes and more at her own stupidity for not putting two and two together.

Suddenly a notification for their Craigslist ad pops up: someone hired them to clear the weather for an upcoming farmers market. Said farmers market is tomorrow.

“We already got an offer?! Eurydice I don’t think I can do this!” “Orpheus, you’ll be fine! I’ll be there with you tomorrow.” “It’s tomorrow?? Please let there be clear weather tomorrow...” “What would be the point of us showing up if the weather is already clear?!”

The next day, Orpheus is a mess. Eurydice brings him gloves with hand warmers in them, an umbrella she scribbled music notes in sharpie on and a thermos of hot tea. Orpheus appreciates the gesture (sure he cant use the close with he plays, nor hold the umbrella but the gesture is sweet all the same)

When they get to the market and set up, the rain is pouring furiously. Orpheus is shaking, partially from the cold, but mostly from nerves. He’s under an awning away from the crowd and mostly our if the rain but Eurydice still covers him with the umbrella as a precaution. His fingers are shaking as he starts playing, constantly stopping to tune the ancient guitar.

The runner of the market is not amused (it was one of his workers who hired these children). He tries to tell Eurydice and Orpheus to go home but Eurydice convinces him to wait. Orpheus begins his song, “la, la la la, la la la~ la, la la la, la la la~”

As he performs, the rain slowly comes to a stop, the clouds parting to reveal a beautiful crystal blue sky. The golden sun coming out to say hello. Murmurs from all around can be heard, fingers pointing to the sky, people shocked by the return of the sun.

The man is shocked and ends up paying the kids double than what they charged for proving him wrong. “You got a gift kid, voice ain’t half bad either.”

For the next month, the two get job, after job, after job. The run around the whole city and sometimes even further out, clearing the sky, for birthday parties, weddings, competitions, even for a daycares field trip to the park. Orpheus is never a stickler for payments (he did the daycare job for $20 (the teacher forced him to take it) and a bunch of stickers and snacks).

Orpheus and Eurydice get closer and closer through their job and all the travels they do (they both have crushes on each other but they’re teens. They stupid with love). Seph teases her for how much she hangs out with Orpheus (“I’m losing my apprentice to my cute nephew!”) while Hades gets more annoyed than anything (he misses her and all the stuff she does around the house. She makes hades and Seph ultimately get along better).

One of their biggest jobs is to clear the sky for a 4th of July firework show. Since they are hired by the event coordinators, the two have to dress up. Eurydice shows up in her black dress, Seph had got it tailored to fix any holes, tarnished hems, and other rips. While Eurydice talks with a few event workers, Orpheus shows up.

He looks absolutely adorable. Still, in his suspenders, he replaced his cream shirt and signature bandana for a white button-up with a red bow tie. His pant legs are rolled up to reveal red socks and fancy shoes.

Orpheus performs and the sky clears. The firework show goes off without a hitch. The event planners let Eurydice and Orpheus have a private area to watch the show as a thank you.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen fireworks in person before,” Eurydice says. “Yeah, Mr. Hermes and Aunt Seph used to take me to watch these fireworks how’s for my birthday when I was younger. Haven’t been able to in years since Hermes has gotten sicker and Aunt Seph and Hades haven’t been getting along as well...”

Eurydice grabs his hand, “Orpheus when is your birthday?” “Oh,” Orpheus pauses for a second, “next week? 4 days to be exact.” “Oh my birthday is before yours,” Eurydice says.

“Wait, how old are you?” Orpheus asks. “I’m...1...8...” Eurydice says slowly. ‘You liar!’

“You don’t look 18,” Orpheus unintentionally counters. “You saying I’m lying?” Eurydice smirks. ‘You are!’ “No! I just meant you look young.”

“How old will you be next week Orpheus?” “Oh, um...17.”

‘Shit he’s actually older than me!’ Eurydice thinks to herself. Then sit there the rest do the night watching the fireworks but in all honesty, more time was spent between the two staring at each other secretly then actually watching the colorful display in the sky.

Over the next few days, Eurydice tries to figure out what to give Orpheus as a present. She tried asking Persephone and Hades but...they were absolutely no help. Then she tries Hermes. While Orpheus is busy, she slyly tries to question Hermes on what Orpheus would want for his birthday.

“So girl, how many secret jobs do you two have left?” Hermes asked while wiping some glasses. “Just one more next week, the day before Orpheus’ birthday actually.” “Really now?” “Yeah, since the job offers have been getting kinda overwhelming we decided to take one more offer then go on a break.”

Hermes nods and goes back to work. Perfect opportunity! “Speaking of Orpheus’ birthday-”

“You love him, don’t you girl?”

Eurydice then proceeds to freak the eff out. “What?? No! No, no! I mean, he is very cute and a talented musician and I love to hear him perform or laugh...or when he turns pink after cracking a joke. But I just wanted to think of a birthday present NOT BECAUSE I LIKE HIM OR ANYTHING! Just for a friend! Yeah, a friend...what the hell is wrong with me?”

Hermes smiles at the girl, “Eurydice.” The girl shuts up immediately. “I’ve been watching over that boy since he could talk. And I can tell you he would love whatever you’d give him. Even if you decided to give him nothing but a hug or a few sweet words. He would treasure it all. But I can tell that this goes deeper than you just wanting to surprise a friend with a present.”

Eurydice’s quiet, she knows he’s right but she wasn’t planning on be confronted on it today. “I... I like him...?” She raises the end like a question. Making sure that it’s okay.

Hermes nods, “aight, I give you my blessing.” Eurydice’s chest lightens. “Now about that gift idea...”

...

“Stop running!”

“Shit!” the man runs for his life. He hadn’t done anything wrong but with police, it never was innocent until proven guilty. It was guilty until proven innocent.

He ran down the slick streets, nearly falling as he turned the corner down a backstreet.

Suddenly he was corned by three detectives from the downtown police department. “Wait officers, I didn’t do nothing!” the man tries to reason with them.

“We know,” one says. “What?” the man asks. They hold out their badges: Detectives Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis.

“We tried to tell you that but you just went and started running,” detective Clotho said with an amused attitude.

“Are you the guy in this video?” detective Lachesis held out her ooh one displaying a shoddy video of surveillance footage of the night a month ago when a girl fired a shot that nearly blew his head off.

“Hell, that kid nearly shot me in the fucking face!”

“She’s apart of a missing child’s case,” detective Atropos states, not acknowledging what the witness just said. “Parents filed her as a runaway. She also may have possession of an illegal stolen firearm. A firearm that actually looks eerily similar to one that went missing from a previous unrelated case that wasn’t solved a few weeks before this incident.

“We need to find the girl. Have you seen her around?”

...

Seph is working at her Anthomania. The rain is drizzling once again and the streets are starting to flood. She’s arranging an order when an older woman steps through the door.

“Welcome in!”

“It’s really pouring out there ain’t it?” the woman asks. “Sure is,” Seph agrees. “Kinda frightening.”

“Frightening? Child ain’t nothing but a lil’ rain. The world was covered with water before humans were got involved. It’s all just a cycle. Reminds me of a story I dudes to hear as a child though.” Seph silently encourages her to continue. It’s a slow day, one old tale can’t harm her.

“There used to be ones that could control the weather. Children of the earth and sky, chosen to bring balance to nature. By their voices alone, they could end storms and disasters. Blessed beings they were. But they were also cursed with a heavy and heartbreaking burden. Those poor children.”

Seph back straightens, a chill running up her spine. Dread pooling in her stomach. “What kind of burden? What happened to those kids?”

The old woman gazes up at Persephone, “death.”

[bleepblopbloop56]

The Murder in the Dressing Room

Chapter 6: Blood and Tears

Warnings:abusive deceit, murder mention, throwing up, some stalker-like things

Specail thanks to @pathos-logical this fic is litterally our baby im not even kidding, weve both poured alot into this.

Also on ao3

"Logan? Logan, slow down- what are you saying?" Emile had just put Patton to bed after a long day of playing in the park, eating more ice cream than Logan probably would've allowed, and binging cartoons. As long as you kept Patton nearly constantly busy, he wouldn't cry for his dada too often, and overall it seemed like he was having fun. He knew Logan took being separated from Patton about as well as Patton did, so he hadn’t been surprised from the call that came almost as soon as Patton had gone to sleep. He’d expected for Logan to immediately ask about how Patton was doing when he picked up, but instead he'd been greeted with nearly incoherent panic from his brother.

"Logan- Logan, you're scaring me," he cut in, knowing it would get Logan to stop speaking. "Deep breaths, and when you can talk, start again,” he said firmly, not giving him a chance to try to continue. He heard an audible gulp of air over the line. Emile could instinctively tell Logan was still panicking, but there was barely a pause as Logan started to talk again.

"Virgil," Logan choked out "He- he's been murdered, I… I need you to keep Patton for a while longer." He forcefully kept his breathing as steadily as he could, hands shaking. He was standing in the hallway to his apartment, trying to rationalize what he’d seen there.

At first he’d almost thought it was some sick prank, simply because Virgil didn't look like the others did. The first two victims had been stabbed repeatedly in the chest, the crime scenes left a blood-splattered, sickening sight. But Virgil would seem to be merely asleep if it weren’t for the blood trickling from his throat onto Logan's pillow. It wasn't until he had checked for Virgil’s pulse for the fourth time and found nothing there he’d believed he was gone. Touching a body before pictures were taken and a medical examiner was in sight was a big no-no, but he didn't care about any of that. 

"Murdered?" Picani gasped, stepping into his own room away from Patton resting on the couch. "Logan, are you okay?”

Logan rarely took deaths this hard- he had become desensitized after seeing so much of it in his profession. And yet these three murders had stripped away his usual professional sense of detachment from him. Like they hit too close to home to keep a straight face.

Logan sunk to the ground, voice shuddering. "Emile, what would've happened if you didn't take Patton away? What if he was in the house, or if I picked him up from daycare before I came home?" He was rambling now, clutching the phone with both hands to keep it steady. A police officer walked by, and Logan kept his eyes on the ground.

"That didn't happen, Logan. He's safe, he's here with me," Emile said softly. He had known Virgil well, but now wasn't the time to break down in front of his little brother.

"Will you check?" Logan whispered. It was irrational, he knew that Emile would never lie to him and that his kid was safe and sound, but…

Emile paused for a second before softening. "Of course I will, Logan," he whispered, strolling into the living room and looking at the sleeping child snuggling a Tweety Bird plushie nearly as big as he was on Logan’s spare crib. "He's safe, Logan. Everything's going to be fine." 

Logan wanted to say "no it's not," he wanted to say "I haven't heard from Roman in two days and I don't know if he's safe," he wanted to say his life was rapidly dissolving into a bloodbath of innocent lives who had nothing to do with any of the pain and suffering this murderer was causing. But he just stayed silent, sniffling and trying to keep his breathing even.

"I know," he said finally, nodding despite knowing Emile couldn't see him. Remy stuck his head out into the hallway, motioning for him to come in the room before popping back through the doorway. "Emile, I need to go… Tell Patton I love him when he gets up, okay?" 

It wasn't that Roman didn't want to return any of Logan's calls, it was that he couldn't. Successively losing his friend and then his brother, so quickly and in such a gruesome way to boot, had left him practically incapable of leaving bed. He had rented a room in some shitty hotel to avoid having to move in with anyone again, although with his luck whoever the murderer was would just burn down the entire fucking hotel after locking all the doors.

Roman couldn't stop feeling like it was all his fault, and he guessed it was in a way. Someone was after him. He only wished that they'd just kill him and be done with it, not grossly terrorize his friends and family. 

He wished Logan was here. He knew he'd come if he was asked, but he didn't want to make him a target… Roman wished things were back like they used to be. The days when he was the only person who could get Logan to dance around the bedroom in boxers and a t-shirt, music from his phone blaring some slow song Logan didn't recognize. The days he'd sleep over at Logan's and laugh off the glares from his roommate about their lack of shirts. He missed the times like snowball fights outside the apartment and how the snow would get stuck in Logan’s hair and complement the flush on his face.

Roman missed the days before the young man with a scar on his face had tempted him away with the promise of money and love and the perfect life, before Ethan had convinced Roman to leave Logan for him. He'd phrased it like forbidden love, Romeo and Juliet, when really all it was was the biggest mistake of his life. 

He'd tried, he really had, to make it work with Dee. He'd accepted his early proposal. He'd done everything he once did with Logan with Dee and ignored the ache in his heart. Ignored the blackmailing and threats Dee would spit any time he so much as thought about Logan. Ignored how Dee had told Roman to quit his job, to stop talking his to friends, to focus on him and him alone… 

His phone buzzed again. It was probably another message from Logan asking where he was.

He pulled himself up by the headboard and grabbed the half-empty water bottle on the nightstand, chugging it all and tossing it on the floor. He glanced over at his phone just in time to see 3 new messages flashing before fading into darkness. 

Logan: Where are you? How are you feeling after all of this? I know this must be hard on you. 

Logan: Roman? I would appreciate a response soon. Now is not the time to be "playing hard to get," as Remy says.

Logan: Roman, although a text might not be the best way to figuratively "break the news," it seems my roomate Virgil has become the next victim… Please call me when you are able.

Roman felt his bottom lip begin to tremble. Even locking himself away from everyone wouldn't keep them safe. He felt like his entire chest was caving in on himself, that awful feeling of being so anxious and scared he needed to puke rising in his stomach and chest. 

He dropped his phone and ran to the bathroom, nearly bruising his knees as he collapsed in front of the toilet. But the nausea would only come back stronger when Roman saw the next messages he'd just received.

Dee😘😘: *sent a photo* 

Dee😘😘: uh oh! :(

When Roman clicked the notifications with trembling fingers, a photo of Roman and Logan kissing against Logan's car would light up his screen, the bad angle and quality unable to hide how Logan's hands were under Roman's shirt and how Roman was pulling Logan's face into his… 

And Roman's stomach would sink, all the pieces slotting together into one, horrible, picture.

The murder in the dressing room taglist:

@cataclysm-al @theteenagetrickster @intrurality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality @nonbeenary-enbee @imbasicallyshakespear @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @incoherentfangirl @oofmood @nonbianary-pineapple @royalnerd829 @unicornlogansanders

[raging-violets]

Suite Life: Let Me Love You //  Zack x Riley

A/N: Set just after my fics Save Me From Myself, and Help Me Save Me. Inspired by the book Letting Anna Go. The gif doesn’t really have to do with anything, but it was the closest to what I was looking for.

Warning: Mentions/Implications of depression, anorexia, abuse, bipolar disorder.

@pinacoladaranger​

-

Zack grinned and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist when he saw her red golf ball bounce off the back of the barrier on the hole and spin away, thus making her lose the mini golf game.

And the bet.

Oh, that was the best part.

Their competitive natures always got the better of them when playing a game, they both absolutely hated to lose. (There had many times where their friends and siblings refused to let them play certain games because of how competitive they got, not that her family as a whole weren't competitive). But the worst came when they decided to put a bet on something, second to one of them winning and gloating in the face of the one who lost.

Thankfully, this time around, the bet was as simple as the loser buying dinner.

"Good job, babe," Zack said while Riley sighed heavily, placing a hand on her hip. He couldn't help the teasing edge to his voice. Unable to keep himself from letting his competitive edge take over. The same competitiveness that made her pout, despite folding her arms to lay on top of his, gently rocking along with his swaying. "But a deal's a deal, and you owe me some food."

"Great, I'll lose all the money I made this week," Riley pretended to groan. She tipped her head back, resting it on his shoulder; noticeable. "Waiting all those tables for nothing."

"Most of that money's from me, anyway." Zack grabbed their golf clubs in one hand, grasped her hand and led her from the hole. "I have to do something while I waited for you to get off." He giggled to himself when Riley punched him on the arm, clearly getting his not-so-subtle innuendo.

"Hitting on my co-workers and my sister shouldn't be one of those things."

"Technically, they're two things. I can flirt with your co-workers more than I can flirt with Rhu. Only cause Cody would kill me." Zack paused, giving their playing items before then turned, throwing his arm around Riley's shoulders to steer her toward the snack bar of the outdoor game center.

Riley tilted her head back and looked up at Zack with squinted eyes. "You only wouldn't flirt with my sister because of Cody?"

Zack pressed his lips together. "Okay, fine, I admit it. I never wanted to say it before, but you leave me no choice." He took in a deep breath and said, "When we first met, I couldn't tell you two apart." He placed a hand on his chest, noticing the rib bones he could feel just above his ab muscles. "Terrible, I know—"

"You're a twin!" Riley cried. "How can you not tell us apart when you're a bloody twin yourself!"

Zack shrugged. "All I saw were pretty girls I wanted to make out with."

"I figured that out when you used your line on me, yeah?" Riley rolled her eyes. "Of which you clearly got from your dad, mate. How many eleven-year-old boys know anything about being the man of someone's dreams."

"It's a good line." Zack removed his arm and grabbed her shoulders, steering her to the line of the concession stand.

"Yeah, and how many long-term relationships has your dad been in?"

"Just the one," Zack replied. He grinned. "And they produced some very attractive children."

"Yeah, yeah…" Riley reached up and grabbed Zack's chin, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw that equally made him grin, and made butterflies erupt in his stomach. She let go him and he quickly reached up to press his jaw, hand moving almost on autopilot, rubbing the skin to determine what she felt.

Did she feel a strong jaw bone or a fleshy fat pocket?

He dropped his hand, looking over the board as they inched closer in line.

"What do you want?" Riley took her wallet out of her pocket, dipping her head to look inside.

Missed Zack quickly and quietly scanning the menu, once, twice, three times, twisting his lower lip to the side as the seconds passed. So much to choose from, too many options. It all looked great but… Zack sighed heavily. It was the sort of thing he was starting to hate. More so in the last few weeks than any other time. It was practically torture waiting in the restaurant for her to finish, just to even have five minutes for her to stop by his table to give him a free drink or a free piece of cheesecake. Too many overwhelming choices, sights, sounds, smells.

All for a few minutes of elation.

And that was only when he wasn't at his own job; working the Tipton daycare was fun but tiring. Made him fall back into bad habits to keep his strength up simply to run around with the kids so long. It wasn't until he was utterly alone and things died down that they got worse. There was a reason he liked to be around people so much.

"Zack."

"What?" He blinked to attention.

Riley tipped her head to the board, slightly impatient. "What do you want?" she repeated.

Zack made a decision. "I want the Belly Buster."

"Fine."

He watched as she went up to the counter and asked for the order. His stomach gnawed at him as quickly as he gnawed at his lower lip. He twisted his fingers together. Barely mumbled when he said, "Actually…no, I want the fried chicken salad."

Riley paused. She lifted her head, staring straight ahead. Her eyebrows furrowed, looking at Zack out the corner of her eye. Zack looked back at his girlfriend, watching her face, noticing that while her expression hadn't changed, something around them did. The fun atmosphere they'd just had was gone; something heavy rained over them. Nevertheless, she turned back to the counter and changed the order, quickly exchanging the money needed to pay for it.

Then they walked to a table in the corner to wait.

She spoke the second they sat down, immediately raising all of Zac's red flags. He got the same feeling in the pit of his stomach when his mother was angry at him for something. Especially when he wasn't quite sure what it was. (Mostly as there was a plethora of things he could've done to incur someone's wrath, there were so many pranks he'd played against Moseby became so much that he couldn't always remember what was what).

"You're doing it again aren't you?" She asked, voice clipped.

Zack swallowed hard. Hadn't expected to be hit with such a direct question. Who was he kidding, though? Except for her feelings toward him, Riley had always been direct with everything that surrounded them. When he was being a jerk, when he needed to work harder on his studies, when he needed to concentrate…all the things that made it easier for him to better himself.

When he didn't take it too far.

Zack looked at her, eyes wide with innocence. Riley tilted her head, looking back at him, used to the look. He realized that a little too late. "What?" He brought his hands up, resting his elbows on the table. The sleeves of his sweatshirt covered most of his hands, he started to pick at his fingernails. Riley stared back at him. "No." She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm just..."

He trailed off.

Just what?

She asked him a question, it'd be worse if he lied. Lying to his mother when caught was one thing; she'd ground him, maybe take away some privileges. Maybe, give him another lecture on how disappointed she was. That was his mom, hearing it from his girlfriend was even worse. Because she could break up with him, his mom couldn't do that.

"Look," he said under his breath. "I just want to play well."

Riley shook her head, eyebrows coming together. "That's what happened for basketball. You wanted to play well, then you had a bloody heart attack."

"I know," Zack replied. And he did know. And remembered. Remembered how it felt that his heart was squeezing out of his chest. How he couldn't bring in a breath to steady everything. How, for a minute, he was in the gym and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in the hospital with worried faces around him and his arm strapped to the rails of his bed. "Look. This is different. I'm being more careful. I'm keeping track of everything with an app and—"

"I'm not an idiot, Zack, don't bloody treat me like one." She wasn't angry. Not yet. Her face hadn't started taking on the tell-tale pink hue, but her eyes were on fire. Flashing as her eyebrows pierced together. "I've known you since, what? We were eleven? I know there's a difference between the way you eat and the way you think. I know when you eat emotionally, when you're enjoying food for the sake of enjoying it."

Zack looked down at his shoes. Wondered how to make things better. If the tables were reversed, if she were having a mental breakdown, if she were struggling with her own demons, he'd just give her a hug, tell her how much he cared, that everything would be okay. He could still try and tell her that.

But he had a feeling, a deep feeling, it wouldn't work.

Riley shook her head, slapped the sides of her palms on the table top. "I just want you to be careful."

"I am being careful," he insisted.

"I don't want to lose you."

"You won't!" He tried something else. "I'm better. I've been better! For a year now!" She nodded but didn't respond. The doubt was palpable. Zack sighed heavily. He leaned back, watching as their food was brought to their table. The salad he'd asked for and the wrap she'd bought. His upper lip curled at the pool of dressing that sat atop of it. He wasn't very hungry anymore.

Zack lifted his fork and poked at the salad, taking a few bites of the dry pieces of lettuce with chunks of chicken. Studiously stayed away from the pieces touching the dressing. Yet he ignored his trembling lips and queasy stomach, ignored the calculations in his head of what he'd have to do to work it off and keep eating. Ignored it all to try and salvage a good night, and his relationship.

Finally, Riley leaned back and folded her arms. "Are you throwing all of that away?

"I'm full," he replied lightly.

"Of what? You barely fucking touched it."

Zack brought his hands up to run through his hair, stopped when he reached the edge of his beanie. Knew that if he pulled it off and went through the subconscious movement, he stopped months before, that she'd notice everything he worked to hide. Instead, he scrubbed his face with his fingers, annoyed. "Would you stop?" He finally asked. "None of this is your business."

"What do I have to do?"

"This isn't about you."

"Yes, it is!" Her eyes flashed, voice raised to a shout. Eyes turned their way, curious, then turned back. Zack pushed himself away from the table, untangling his legs from the low bench and stalked toward the parking lot. Needed to get away. Anywhere, away from all the attention. From the disgusted looks, from the judgmental stares, wondering what it was he'd done to have her yell at him like that Wasn't that how it always went? That the guy was to blame? In his experience, yeah. "You made it about me."

Zack flung his arms into the air, stopping at the edge of the parking lot. Turned to face her, folding his arms over his chest. To hide himself. To protect himself. "How?" He demanded. "How is this about you?" He exploded, unable to keep it all in. "How is the dieting, the picking on my weight, the constant comments about what I eat, how I eat, and when I do it about you? How is the comparisons to my brother, being unable to keep up with school, being put on a wait list, about you? How does going to NYU when no one thought I was going anywhere but jail about you?"

Riley lifted her hand, as if she were about to slap him. Stopped, thought better of it, then jabbed him in the chest with her fingertip. She stepped toward him, angled her head so that he could look him in the eye. "By being you," she practically hissed. "By being so great. By being funny and smart—" Zack couldn't help the snort that escaped his lips. "You're smart, Zack. You know more about history and war tactics than anyone I know. You even got Capture the Flag banned because we were all taking it so seriously!" She poked him in the center of the chest. "And you have a heart, one I fell in love with ages ago. Probably before I knew I had. I fell in love with you." She removed her hand from his chest and gestured toward herself. "So this is about me, now. I love you and I want you to know that, not up in your head. I want you to know it, here!" She pointed to her own heart. "This is my business, dammit. You're my business."

Zack rolled his eyes, turned away. Felt a pain in his chest. Not pained by her confession, no, he was elated at that, his heart wouldn't stop thrumming in excitement of it. But pain due to things out of his control. Her emotions were out of his control, his own were out of control. He didn't know which way to turn; his heart was telling him to believe everything she was saying and yet… Everything she was saying was drowned out by a voice that whispered cruelly: She doesn't really mean it, she'd just being nice. She's waiting for someone else.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," he said, instead.

"But you are! When you hurt someone I love, you're hurting me. Don't you get it?"

Zack wanted to hug her, to tell her he would try harder, but couldn't bring himself to do so. He stepped back and held out his arms, as if showing her himself for the first time. Wanted her to get a good look at what she was getting herself into, what she'd allowed herself to get into. "How can you love me like this?"

"Bloody hell!" Riley shook her head. "I've always loved you. Doesn't that count for anything?" He dropped his arms and didn't respond. Couldn't. Part of him wanted to say, "It used to," but couldn't get the words out. Didn't have to, the stunned expression on her face said enough. "Go fuck yourself, Zack!" She turned away.

Zack felt a surge of anger, well up inside him, seeing her back presented to him. "You used me," he accused. She immediately whirled around, glaring at him. "You knew how I felt about you from the beginning and you used my feelings."

"By being your friend?" She spat back.

Zack shook his head. "You led me on, I kept trying for you…"

"So you're saying this is my fault?" Her voice turned quiet, broken. Caught by the tears that threatened to come.

In that moment, Zack wondered if there was such a thing as soulmates. Wondered if there was one person destined for everyone on Earth with how he felt his own tears welling up. With how broken he felt, scared, empty. With how sorry he felt that in many ways it had nothing to do with her but in every way it did. How she encouraged him to be the best he could be, to change his habits, but how she was also who he tried to impress. How she understood hos inadequate he felt compared to his brother and made him feel what it was like to have positive attention.

Knew she understood that need, the want to be liked, due to her own struggles with the abuse of her foster father.

How they dealt with the same issue in two very different ways.

Wondered if she realized how the voices were slowly dwindling away.

He leveled his gaze on her, saw her shake her head, an air of acceptance coming over her. Saw her face clear from the anger she felt only seconds before, replaced by hurt, but understanding. Compassion. She stepped forward, placing her hands on his cheeks, tipped his head down so his forehead rested against hers. Zack closed his eyes, reaching up to grasp her wrists, gently stroked the skin with his thumbs.

"I'm not giving up on you," she murmured. "Don't you dare give up on me."

[doubletriplepowerbomb]

Make it better

Request for @ashluvsaj52 :Dean Ambrose x reader

Can you write a Dean story where he helps his best friend (he’s in love with) raise her 3 year old daughter

Word count: +5300

Warnings: swears, SAD, angst, heavy-ish topics (young single mother, young pregnancy, daughter doesn’t know father, some heartache and a slow burn; stuff like that) But there is a happy ending cause I can’t leave y’all with something sad ;)

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46   @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21 @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25  @xfirespritex  

“Dakota… please, Uncle Dean is coming soon.” You breathed as your three year old daughter ran circles around you. You had a laundry basket resting on your hip and you were trying to make your way to the couch, dodging toys and your daughter’s tiny feet.

“Uncle Dean is coming?” She asked with excitement. Your eyes widened and you nodded at her while she squealed. She loved her Uncle Dean, but not as much as you did.

Dean Ambrose has been your best friend since high school, he was one of the only people that stuck with you through everything. You got pregnant with Dakota when you were 22, her dad ran out on you the second he found out, your Catholic family shunned you, and everyone seemed to be against you. Except for Dean. He stuck by you and helped you every step of the way. He was there at the drop of a hat for you always, and you couldn't be more thankful that he was there for you.

“Mommy, why is uncle Dean always here? Where’s daddy?” Dakota’s small little voice and her hand tugging on your shirt grabbed your attention.

“Huh?” You were shocked, Dakota never asked about her father before and you never mentioned him. Why was she asking? How did she even know to ask?

“At daycare, Miss T asked what mommy and daddy do. Mommy has 2 jobs and goes to school. Who is daddy, what does daddy do?” She asked with wide eyes. You put the laundry basket on the coffee table before picking up your daughter and sitting on the couch with her on your lap.

“Sweetie, your daddy ran away before you were born.” You said, it broke your heart to say but you couldn't lie to her.  She just stared at you with confusion and you prayed for Dean to open the door.

“Why did daddy run away?”

“Because he didn’t want a baby. But between us, your daddy is stupid for running away because if he stayed, he’d have you. So he’s missing out on the best baby ever.” Your words put a smile on Dakota’s face.

“Mommy, what about uncle Dean? He can be my daddy.” You smiled sadly at your daughter before she continued. “Uncle Dean has a job. I can tell Miss T daddy builds houses.” Dakota’s words shocked you again. But thankfully, Dean walked through the door before you could answer. You breathed out with relief when you heard the front door open and heavy footsteps walk inside.

“You in here, squeak?” He yelled into the house before the front door closed. Dakota jumped off the couch and ran out of the living room to find Dean. Seconds later, Dean walked into the living room, Dakota hanging on his back. He was wearing a white tank top and jeans with his timberland work boots. He came directly from work. Nothing made you feel simultaneously better and worse than when he came straight from work. Better because Dean came to you right away, you and Dakota were his first priority. Worse because Dean was 26, just like you, except he didn't mess up like you did and he deserves a life of his own.

“You found her.” You joked as you got up to say hi. Dean put Dakota down before wrapping his strong arms around you tightly. You tucked your face into his chest and inhaled deeply. A mixture of sweat and old spice filled your nose and you could feel your muscles relax. Dean rested his chin on your head and moved only to kiss your forehead before putting his head back. The guilt faded and you smiled with the knowledge that Dean came to straight to your apartment, to him, your needs came first.

“Thank you so much for coming over.” You sighed into his chest and he squeezed you tighter. You tried to be strong and take care of Dakota by yourself, and most of the time you did really well. But you did work two jobs and take some online college courses; taking care of a child by yourself is hard work, you were so grateful that you had someone that was always willing to help. “I really appreciate this.”

“Anytime, darlin’.” Dean mumbled before breaking the hug. 

The sad truth was that Dean was hopelessly in love with you, and you had no idea. And he’d never tell you, he didn't want to complicate your life even more so he kept to himself. In the beginning, before he grew to love Dakota, he’d only come for you. It killed him that you had to work so hard and he could only do so much. He wished you’d except the money he offered you, but you never did. But eventually, Dakota became Dean’s best friend, and he told her everything.

“Okay, squeak. What do you wanna do first?” Dean asked, turning his attention to the little girl who stood with a smile watching her mom and uncle holding each other. Dakota started listing all of the things she wanted to do with Dean and his eyes ventured to you, you looked extremely stressed. “Before we get to all those fun things, why don’t we clean up?” Dean suggested as he looked around the living room. Toys were scattered everywhere and you could barely see the floor anymore. Thank you. You mouthed to Dean. He winked at you and turned back to Dakota, who stood with her nose scrunched.

“Your mommy told me that if we cleaned up, I can take you to the playground.” Dean whispered. Dakota’s eyes brightened and she dropped to her knees to start picking up her toys.

“How do you do that?” You asked in awe after Dean walked over to you. He smirked and shrugged before giving you one last hug. “I’m gonna take a shower then do some work.” Dean nodded and let you go.

“You really like my mommy, huh?” Dakota asked once the bathroom door closed. Dean looked amused and he sat down next to the little girl.

“You know I do, squeak. You’re my most trusted spy, Kota.” He said while helping her pick up toys. “So, how was daycare today.” He asked before straightening a barbie’s dress and putting her in the dollhouse.  

“My teacher asked us what mommy and daddy do.” She said easily. Dean tensed at the words, he knew you’d been trying to raise Dakota with the mindset that not having a dad around is normal, he should’ve known that a school teacher would screw that up.

“Oh yeah? What’d you say?” He asked, trying to make his tone sound normal.

“I said mommy has two jobs and that I don’t know who daddy is.” Dakota started. “Then, Miss T asked where my daddy is. I don’t know that. All of the other kids in my class have daddies, why don’t I have one Dean?” Dean’s heart broke for the little girl.

“You don’t need a daddy, Kota. You know your mommy loves you and takes really good care of you.” After that, Dean kept the conversation light. He didn't want to say something you didn't want Dakota to know.

After you had gotten out of the shower, the living room was clean and Dean was sitting with Dakota eating some Mac and Cheese. You kissed your daughter’s head and Dean’s cheek before walking back into your room, hoping to get some schoolwork done while they’re at the park.

The only thing you could think about was Dakota in daycare today. What went through her head when her teacher asked about her father? When all the other kids talked about their dads, what was she thinking about? Then, she asked if Dean could be her dad. She had no idea how heartbreaking that was. She’d never have a normal life, but you were so happy that Dean could act as a semi father figure in her life. You tried to raise your daughter good enough that she wouldn't worry about not having a dad but you knew how important a father was to a little girl. She needed a dad, but she’d never have one. All these thoughts made you question yourself but you shut them out and focused on your laptop. You couldn’t do this now, you didn’t always have time like this to do your work.

After Dakota got sick of the playground, she and Dean walked hand in hand through the park. Not long after that, Dakota begged Dean for ice cream. After almost no convincing and only one pretty please, Dean took Dakota to their favorite ice cream place in the park. They walked through the doors and were met by the familiar scent and face behind the counter.

“Oh, it’s two of my favorite people in the world.” The sweet old lady who owned the place said happily. “Where’s Y/N?” She asked, her tone sweet like the ice cream. Dakota told the lady before ordering herself and Dean the usual, double chocolate chunk for her and mint chip for him.  

As the two sat together, eating their ice cream at the bar, Dakota’s eyes shifted to a bright pink daddy daughter dance flyer. “Molly, what’s that?” She asked the old lady while pointing to the colorful flyer.

“Oh that’s for the daddy daughter dance,” she started before leaning over the counter. “You should bring your uncle Dean.” Molly was well aware of your situation, you and Dean had been getting ice cream there since high school and Molly had always been working there.

Molly’s words reminded Dakota about the question she had for Dean. “Uncle Dean?” She started. Dean looked up from his cone and stared down at the little girl looking back at him. “Why can’t you be my daddy?” His eyes widened. “I could tell Miss T that daddy builds houses. I know you like my mommy Dean, more than a friend. She likes you too, she told me once. She talked about your dimples forever and I don’t know what dimples are.” Dean smiled, his dimples on full display while his stomach did flips.

“You know I’m working on it, Kota. But your mommy is busy taking care of you, she can’t take care of me too.” Dean joked. Dakota looked disappointed, but it didn’t take Dean long to get her mind off of it.  

After another 20 minutes, the sun began to set, Dean and Dakota walked back to the parking lot and climbed in his truck before going back to your house. You were sitting at the table with your computer, surprisingly, you had gotten a lot of work done when Dean walked back inside with Dakota asleep in his arms. You couldn't help but imagine that Dean was her father and it made you happy for a second. You imagined your husband and your sleepy daughter coming inside from playing in the yard all evening. You smiled to yourself but stopped your mind before it upset you. You and Dean put Dakota to bed and stayed up talking for a little bit before he drove back to his own apartment. Leaving you all alone in the silence. 

You woke up to the sound of rain on a Saturday morning. Rain and Saturday were a terrible combination. Dakota didn’t have daycare and usually, you’d take her to the park and do some school work while she played at the playground. But on rainy days, Dakota was cooped up inside the apartment all day. It wasn’t too small, so she’d usually be fine for a couple hours, but at around noon, she’d get antsy and begin to drive you crazy. You didn’t work at the restaurant on Saturdays and you didn’t have to go into work at the massage place before 4pm.

You laid in bed, knowing that Dakota was already awake and will start to get antsy soon. You were so close to getting your business degree, meaning work began to pile up. You had fallen behind on schoolwork when Dakota was sick at the beginning of the week and you really needed to catch up. That’s why the knocks at the door practically brought tears to your eyes.

Dakota was standing at the door, waiting for you to say she could open it. You looked through the peephole, and saw Dean standing with Roman and Seth. “It’s Uncle Dean, and he brought Roman and Sethie.” You said with a grin, Dakota squealed before pulling the door open.

“Uncle Dean! Roman! Sethie!” The little girl yelled, loud enough to annoy the neighbors but you didn’t care. Those guys were jerks anyway. Dakota yanked Seth into the living room to show him her new tea set, while Dean and Roman walked into the kitchen with you.

“Oh you guys don’t want to take her all day.” You said after Dean put the offer out. Dakota was too invested in her tea set to hear and you spoke quietly while you flipped pancakes. “She’s loud and squirmy and she has a short attention span and there’s always toys everywhere. Plus it’s raining and she won’t be able to go outside and she’ll get antsy and-” You spoke while you stared down at the pan. Once you looked up to see the two men staring, you realized what you were saying. Roman looked slightly nervous and you realized they might not agree take her “-and she’s a peach! She’s smiley and energized, but well behaved. And she loves a good time. You guys are gonna have so much fun today, it’s gonna be great.” You said before turning back to the pan. Dean smirked at you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“We’ll take her to indoor mini golf and a movie or something.” Dean whispered before kissing your temple and squeezing you tight. You smiled gratefully at Dean and Roman before taking breakfast to your daughter. She sat on the floor and used the coffee table to hold her plate while she watched Curious George.

“Thanks again for taking her today, you guys. You don’t understand how much I love you all.” You said before hugging each man individually. Roman and Seth work with Dean at the construction site, they’ve been friends for a couple years now. Dean introduced them to you when you were a couple months pregnant with Dakota. They too were always willing to help, but not as much as Dean.

The first stop was indoor mini golf and an arcade. The rain continued to pour down while they played. The conversation stayed light and basic while they played with Dakota. They talked about Dakota’s favorite princesses, and what she does at daycare. After Seth “counted” up the score and Dakota won by a million, Dean gave her 20 dollars for tokens to play whatever games she wanted.

“Dude, I saw how to hugged Y/N earlier. You literally buried your face in her hair and closed your eyes like you were in heaven.” Roman said to Dean while the three men watched Dakota run around the arcade.

Dean sighed and remembered this morning. He hugged you from behind this morning and it was wonderful. You were standing at the stove, cooking pancakes and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, he could get used to that. Dean dreamed that he could wake up every morning and see you, he wished that he could snuggle with you and Dakota in your bed on a cold day in winter. Dean wished for these things everyday, but he never did anything more than think about it.

“Will you ever make a move? We know you love her.” Seth said, a smile on his face while watching the 3 year old pulling tickets out of a machine.

Dean was smiling too, but there was sadness in his eyes. He wanted you so bad. “You guys know I can’t.” Dean started while playing with the pocket of his jeans. “Y/N is so busy with two jobs and school and Dakota, I’m not gonna put another thing on her plate. I can’t do that to her.”

“But, Dean, you’ll be able to help her.” Seth said, confusion in his voice.

“I’ve been her friend since high school, I don’t want to make it weird.” Dean said. “She has so much to deal with I can’t add myself right now.”

The silence in your apartment was nice, you had music on while you did your schoolwork and you had gotten pretty caught up. You had two hours until you had your massage client so you decided to look at some bills.

You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, you’ve been staring at a single piece of paper for over 15 minutes. You could barely afford Dakota’s day care. You wanted so badly for your daughter to live comfortably, without the knowledge  of how hard it is to afford her. The solution was simple, you’d take a break from school, get a third job or start working more at the restaurant.

Roman, Seth, and Dean were no longer talking about you, the conversation rotated between sports, Dakota, and why Roman lost in mini golf.

“Guys I swear it’s cause my putter was too small.” Roman pleaded his case while Seth and Dean just laughed at the big man.

The next thing they knew, Dakota came running. “Uncle Dean! Some mean boy took my tickets!” She said, her lip quivering. “Roman, go beat him up.”

“Oh sweetie, you know Roman can’t just beat people up.” Dean started, wrapping his arms around the child. “But show me where he is and we’ll go get your tickets back.” Dean said. Dakota smiled and grabbed onto Dean’s hand before turning on her heel and leading him through the arcade.

“Oh he belongs with Y/N.” Seth said when Dean was out of earshot. “I mean did you see how he tensed up when Dakota came running? Why doesn’t he just talk to Y/N? I know she loves him back.” Roman agreed.

“He really loves both of them. I’ve never seen Dean care about anything like he cares about Dakota. He’s always there for Y/N. Like seriously, he barely worked when Dakota was sick. He goes directly to Y/N’s almost everyday. And he still claims that he doesn’t want to bother her, it hurts watching the two of them sometimes.”

The checked your phone, you had to get to work if you wanted to talk to your boss. You got up from the stool in the kitchen and walked into your room to grab your purse. You left a note on the counter and walked down the street.

“Hey Y/N, you’re here early. Your appointment isn’t for another 30 minutes.” Your boss said when she saw you walk into the back.

“Hey Sarah, yeah I came early cause I need to talk to you. I was wondering if you could put me on the schedule for some other things. I could cover for people and massage clients that don’t have someone yet. Or maybe I could do the opening or closing shift-” your boss cut you off before you could say anything else.

“Y/N, tell me what’s going on. Why do you need these extra jobs?” Sarah was aware of your situation but you tried to not beg for money.

You knew you wouldn’t get out of this. “I can’t afford Dakota’s daycare and I don’t want her to know that her mom is struggling to take care of her.” You wanted to be strong for your daughter.

Sarah looked at you with a smile. “You’re a wonderful mother and I really admire that you ask for more work rather than a higher rate. And of course I’ll add you to the schedule when I can. Lisa works the closing shift but if you want to work the openings you’re welcome to after you drop Dakota off at daycare.” You smiled widely and thanked your boss before giving her a hug and walking into your massage room.

“Did you have fun today, Kota?” Seth asked as they walked out of the movie.

“Yeah! Today was so fun. That movie was so good. You guys stink at mini golf.” She giggled as Roman carried the little girl on his back.

“Don’t brag too much, Dakota. We’ll have rematch and we’re gonna beat you next time.” Dean joked, his fingers poking Dakota making her giggle again. Dean couldn't get enough of that little giggle, he would pay good money to hear it everyday of he could. 

You were sitting on the couch, your computer on your lap. You were so grateful that both your boss at the spa and at the restaurant let you work extra shifts, but that meant you’d have to take a break from school. Which you didn’t mind. You wanted Dakota to continue daycare and go to preschool, all while not knowing that her mom was struggling.

Dakota was asleep in Dean’s arms when the three men walked into your apartment. “I’ll take her to bed.” Dean whispered while Roman and Seth hugged you goodbye. They left after another couple minutes, leaving you alone with Dean and a sleepy Dakota.

“I wanted to thank you again for today, I just- she can be a lot to handle sometimes.” You said after Dean walked out of Dakota’s room and softly closed the door.

Dean smiled genuinely and grabbed your hands, leading you to the couch. “I know, but it’s really no problem. You know you can call me when you need help. I’ll always be here to help.”

“Dean… she asked about her dad yesterday.” Your voice was soft and you could feel the tears coming. 

“I know...” Dean’s voice was soft and trailed off into nothing after the two words left his mouth. 

The next thing you know, tears were falling fast down your cheeks and everything came out. “I'm so tired. I love her, but I’m exhausted. I can't deal with this now too. It’s not fair that she won’t have a dad, but I don't want her to know him. It's just that this is so hard and you have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.” Your voice was now softer than a whisper and Dean was leaning against you to hear your desperate words. “And now I have to get another job because she’s starting preschool soon and I can't afford it. I'm gonna mess this up. I’m gonna mess my little Dakota up.” You felt Dean’s arms wrap around you tightly and you felt at home there. You buried your face in his neck and let his scent fill your nose.

“Are you kidding, Y/N? You’re such a strong person and Dakota got lucky with a mom like you.” Dean let you go but kept his hands on his shoulders so you could look at him. “And so what? She doesn't have a dad? Who cares? She's better off anyway, her birth father is an idiot. And I'll always be here for you. Whenever you need me, I’m here. You know that.” Dean’s arms wrapped around you again and he pressed his lips to the top of your head. “I know how much you do and I know how stressful it is. My mom raised me and my brother by herself and look at me now, I'm just fine. And my mom was a druggie, so Dakota's gonna be set. She's real smart, too. She’s gonna go to a good school and be perfect and smart and pretty, like her mommy.”

“I’m taking a break from school.” You mumbled against his shoulder. He asked you to repeat yourself and he moved your head off of his shoulder so he could hear you better. “I got more hours from both jobs and I’m gonna take a break from school until I know I can pay for daycare and preschool.”

“No. I’m not letting you do that.” Dean started firmly. “You already work as a waitress and you're a masseuse. There’s no chance in hell I'm letting you stop taking those fucking business courses. Y/N, you started off as a free-lance who gave massages out of your apartment. Now look, you told me last week that you got a job at a good place and that soon, you’ll be able to quit your waitress job. You're gonna get a fucking business degree and you're gonna open your own place in Hawaii like you've always wanted. Like you told me when we were in high school.” Dean’s voice was quiet too and he reached up to wipe the tears from your cheek. For some odd reason, it broke his heart to think you’ve given up on your dream. He hoped to live it with you.

He had a dream about that once. You were leaving for the airport and he dropped you off, they didn’t allow him to take you to the gate. As he was driving down the highway, he’d realize what he was doing, what he was losing. Then, he’d make a tire screeching U-turn and speed back to the airport. He’d fight through security and run to the gate. You’d be getting on the plane but he’d call out your name, you’d stop walking at the sound of his voice. You turn around, drop your suitcase and run to him. “I can’t live without you, Y/N. I love you more than words can describe. Take me with you.” He’d neg while holding you tightly in his arms. You’d nod your head and go with him to Hawaii. And everything would be perfect.

“Dean, that was a long time ago, that was my dream before I was pregnant.” You said. The look in his eyes made you feel guilty. He was so excited when you told him about your dreams. He wanted to go to Hawaii with you, and you wanted him to come.

You had the same dream, Dean stopping you at the airport, begging to go with you. You just never knew he had dreamt the same thing. 

“So, Dakota will love it in Hawaii. I’m not letting you sell yourself short. You're smart and I know you can do it. Plus, I'll be here for you, I'll take care of Dakota whenever you need me.” Dean’s normally rough voice sounded extremely soft and silky when he spoke. His blue eyes seemed brighter than you’d seen before and he held your face gently in his hands.

You opened your mouth to speak but your voice failed you, so Dean spoke instead. “You’re such a wonderful person. And stop crying, you know how upset I get when you cry.” Dean pressed his forehead against yours. You couldn’t stop crying though, it had been so long since you let this all hit you and you knew it wasn’t gonna stop. “Y/N please don’t cry.” Dean whispered, his lips only an inch away from yours.

“Dean,” your voice was close to silence but he heard your silent begging. You were begging for him and he knew it. You were begging for his lips on yours, begging for his arms to hold you, begging for him to make it all better. “please…”

That one word was all he needed and Dean smashed his lips against yours. Both you and Dean melted into the kiss and forgot about the whole world. Dean’s hands moved from cradling your face to your hips before lifting you into his lap, still not breaking the kiss. Your hands trailed all over Dean’s strong body as if you’ve never touched another human being before this. Your hands traveled his body erratically before you pulled on the hem of his shirt. You didn’t know what you were doing, but you didn’t want it to stop.

Dean picked his back up off the couch cushion so you could pull his shirt up and only broke the kiss for a second when you pulled his shirt over his head. You had seen Dean shirtless before, but you looked at him differently now. You felt an ache in your gut for him, you’ve wanted him since high school and now you had your chance. Dean smashed his lips into yours again after you had seductively dropped his shirt onto the floor behind you.

Dean broke the kiss again only for a moment to look at you. Your hair was a mess from his hands tangling in it, your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were red and swollen from all the kissing. He needed to know if you were okay with all of this, you nodded your head, telling him that you wanted more. He fumbled with your shirt before you covered his large hands with your own.

You pulled your shirt off slowly and dropped it onto the couch while Dean stared at up at you with wide eyes. His calloused fingers ran up your sides slowly, his eyes staring down at the goosebumps his fingers left in their wake, as if to memorize the feeling of every inch of your skin. Dean’s hands finally made it back to cradling your face and he stared at you with admiration. You felt your face redden and Dean’s lips press to your nose. He quickly adjusted his grip on you and lifted you up off the couch to carry you to your room.

Dakota’s small feel padded through the kitchen to the living room. It was Sunday morning and mommy always said to play quiet on Sunday so she could sleep. Sunday was the only day you didn’t work and you tried to cherish your sleep. As Dakota made her way to her barbies, she stepped on a shirt. Her eyebrows scrunched, she’s seen it before. She picked it up and the familiar scent caught her nose. It was the white shirt uncle Dean wore yesterday. Why is it on the floor? She looked around, uncle Dean’s boots were still by the door. He didn’t go home.

“Mommy,” Dakota’s small voice was quiet while she opened the door to your room, Dean’s shirt clutched in her hand like a blanket. The little girl’s eyebrows scrunched and she dropped the shirt once she saw her uncle Dean sitting up in her mom’s bed. His fingers were interlocked together and his hands were resting behind his head. “Where’s mommy?” She asked while she climbed into the bed.

“Your mommy’s in the bathroom.” He said calmly before moving his hands and letting Dakota cuddle up to his side. Just like her mom did. “Dakota,” Dean said after a moment of silence, the 3 year old’s attention shot to Dean. “I kissed your mommy last night. But you can’t tell mommy I told you. Pinky promise?” Dean suggested, holding out his pinky finger.

Dakota wrapped her tiny pinky around Dean’s, her eyes brightened and she opened her mouth to speak when she heard the news but before she could get any words out, the bathroom door opened. “Good morning, Kota. How are you sweetie?” You asked, pretending to not be surprised by your daughter in your bed. You immediately felt exposed in front of your 3 year old, you were only wearing an old shirt of Dean’s that he had left at your apartment a while ago.

“I’m good, mommy. Uncle Dean told me a secret!” The little girl said excitedly. You raised your eyebrows, knowing it wouldn’t be long until she spoke. “You and uncle Dean kissed!” She squealed, not even a second later. You smiled at your beaming daughter and the embarrassed man in your bed.

“Well Dakota, I have another secret for you.” You said when you walked closer to Dean and your daughter. Dakota’s bright eyes and wide smile turned to you before you spoke. “I’m gonna kiss him again.” You whispered, it was definitely loud enough for Dean to hear, but he acted like he didn’t. He stared at you innocently before you leaned down to peck Dean on the lips and crawl into bed on Dean’s opposite side.

You sat in a comfortable silence with Dean in between your daughter and you. After a couple minutes, Dakota’s little voice broke the silence. “Mommy, can I tell Miss T that daddy builds houses.”

Your stomach dropped at your daughters words and guilt filled you. Dakota didn't mean for the comment to be uncomfortable, she didn’t know. Apparently, you didn’t know either. You looked at Dean with an embarrassed look on your face but he grabbed your chin and kissed your lips softly. He nodded his head to you softly before turning back to the 3 year old waiting for an answer.

“Yes you can, Dakota.” Dean said. The little girl beamed and you cuddled closer to him.

Eventually you’d tell Dakota all about her real father and that Dean should never replace that, even if she has never met him. You’d also tell her that if she ever became curious about her father that you would help her contact him. But you’d tell her that when she got older and would be able to understand better. You’d never let her begin to think that Dean was her birth father, but having him as a father figure would be great for her. And great for you too. But you’d say all of this some other time, right now you just wanted to relax and let Dean do what he said he would; make everything better. 

[wolfjustdraws]

AUgust Day 3 Single Parent AU Lockbinslyle

“Playdate” - Lockwood x George x Lucy

Lockwood and Co. Series

Summary: Playdates are for everyone, not just kids.

AU: Single Parents

————Lockwood————

“Nat. Natty, wake up, baby. It’s morning”

I shook on my daughter’s small shoulder, careful so to not be too rough. She groaned under the covers and rolled over until she was facing me. Her small hands appeared from under the blankets and balled into fists, rubbing her eyes and yawning in that childish way of hers.

“Good morning, princess” I cooed lovingly.

“Morning daddy” She smiled sleepy. I sneaked my arms around her and carried her off the bed. Natasha wrapped her arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder as I walked out of the room. Setting her down on the floor, she walked to the bathroom and I strode back to her bedroom.

It was a nicely decorated room with baby pink, plump unicorns trotting along the walls and fairies flying around them, with some birds singing as well. There was a big, white wardrobe and a boudoir full of stuffed puppies, kittens and more unicorns, of all sizes and colors, but mostly pinks and purples. My little Natty loves unicorns.

I opened the wardrobe and peered at the different shades of pink, white and violet that met my eyes, all different dresses, skirts and blouses. I finally settled for a soft bubblegum pink dress, white tights and shiny red shoes, which I laid on the bed for my daughter to dress with.

She came out of the bathroom, now awake and with her teeth properly brushed. I walked back to my room and went about dressing myself. Today was Saturday, so I didn’t have to go to work, and Nat didn’t have school or play dates with her friends, which meant today we would get to spend it together.

So, I dressed in a pair of slacks, a white shirt and my shoes, combed my hair and walked out of my room. Natasha was sitting on her bed, dress already on but struggling to pull on the stockings.

“Here princess, let daddy help you” I knelt before her and took the leotards on my hands. As I pulled and pushed the garments, I thought back to the first time I ever helped a woman with her tights. Deloris Wynter.

I met her back when I was in college; a young law student who tripped over a theater student on the halls. A fast encounter, not even long enough to count as one.Yet, that had been all I needed to be head over heels for her.

I looked for her all around campus like a mad man for weeks and when I finally found her, I asked her out and dated her. And we dated for long years to come. She helped me study for my exams and memorize my books. I attended all her concerts, plays and musicals.

And the night of her last presentation in college, I sneaked to the dressing room while nobody was watching. She had been adjusting her tight’s costume when I entered. She asked me to help her accommodate the hairnet stockings. When I finished, I did did what I had come to do. I proposed. And she said yes.

We got married a few months later, after I got a stable job in a good firm. We lived together on our own for two years before we knew Deloris was pregnant. The second best surprise I was ever given in my life.

However, it was only a few months after Natasha was born that the worst surprise of my life got here. Barely after midnight, a hand gripped and pulled me out of my slumber. I was shaken from the bed by my wife, who gripped tightly at her chest and wheezed with every breath. Something was wrong. I took my daughter and my wife and drove to the hospital as fast as the traffic let me.

The seeming hours in the emergency were a agony; the nurses couldn’t give me any updates on how Deloris was, Natasha wouldn’t stop crying and the old couple that sat at the other side of the room wouldn’t stop bickering.

And when a doctor finally came to look for me, it was only to tell me my cherished Deloris had just died from a heart attack. Spontaneously. No sickness on any organ that could have caused it. No genetic tendency. No sign that could have helped prevent this. Just like that, after falling asleep while watching one of my Deloris’s favorite movies in bed, the pain came, she was taken from me.

“Will you do my hair, daddy?”  Nat asked me once her tights were correctly placed.

“Sure thing, baby girl, want me to make it a pony tail?”

“Half pony tail!” My daughter exclaimed as she ran to her boudoir and brought back her brush, some rubber bands and ribbons.

It took me months to get over my dearest wife’s death. Months of anger, of crying, months of neglecting my daughter because I thought I needed alone time to get better. But no, I came to realize the only thing I really needed was Natasha. She got me through.

“Done!” I proclaimed, adjusting the bow on my daughter’s dark brown hair.

“You make the best hairdos, daddy!”

“Thanks princess! Now, let’s go make breakfast, shall we?”

“Yay! Pancakes!” Nat yelled and ran out of the room and down the stairs. I followed her down and into the kitchen “Can they be the chocolate chips ones, daddy?”

“I don’t see why not” I opened the fridge and took out the box of frozen pancakes “And, Natty, how about we go to the park today? We can go and look at the flowers”

“Yay!”

————George————

“Morning son”

“Hi dad”

Ben walked slowly inside the kitchen in his crumpled pajamas, rubbing an eye with his fist. In his other hand he held his favorite stuffed animal; a lion, without which, I knew, he was never able to sleep.

“You slept well?”

“Yes, and I finished my book!” He called out excitedly while taking a seat at the table. I looked up from my laptop and left it aside.

“And how did you like it?” I asked. Benjamin drank water from the glass that sat before him, carefully setting it back on the table. I stood from where I sat and started walking around the kitchen, thinking of what I could make for breakfast, after all, its not going to prepare itself.

“Well, I felt like it could have gone better if the Mr Addicot…”

As my hands got to work about making food, I focused on what my son was saying. Benjamin in some aspects was very much like me, for example his love for books, his insatiable curiosity and his unreadable handwriting. In some other aspects he was very much like his mother.

Silvia Ringrose.

Ever heard of ‘love at first sight? It was something along those lines, but we were more annoyed at each other. I had met her one night at a coffeeshop. I had been working late on a presentation I had to give the next day, and she had been arranging, fixing and rearranging charts for her finances project of the semester. We had been sitting right in front of the other without noticing, both absolutely engrossed in our computers.

After some time, one of the waiters brought something one of us had ordered, but since we were both so absorbed on our work we did’t listen to what it was and we both grabbed it at the same time.

From there, our relationship grew and became stable enough. Four years of dating each other while we finished our studies, and one year more after we graduated, then I proposed to her. I was love-dumbfounded back then and very content when she said yes without doubting for a second.

I let Silvia organize the wedding the way she wanted it, after all, party planning is not my thing, and I was fine with it as long as we did got married. For any men who’s not married yet, this is my only advice: never give you girlfriend absolute creative control over the wedding planning, or you’ll end up with a Kim Kardashian-level party.

It was only a few months later that our Benjamin was born. We both loved our son with everything we had to offer. Or at least I thought we did. Only two years later did I noticed how Silvia’s behavior changed: some days she’d call me during the day to ask me to pick up Ben from daycare and at night she’d call again to say how she wouldn’t make it home in time. Most of those nights I was already asleep when she arrived and would only get to see her before she woke up for work, though some other times she wasn’t even home by the time the sun rose.

Some other days she’d call saying she was home early, and when I got home she’d already be in bed, well tucked and fast asleep.

She had changed. My suspicions were confirmed one day when I arrived home. I wasn’t early or anything, this was a normal day for me. Benjamin was downstairs watching his favorite movie and eating candy. Apparently mommy was upstairs working with her friend. So I went up, and indeed, she was with her ‘friend’. Fucking on our bedroom.

A month later the divorce was signed and I had full custody of my son. Silvia walked out of my door without much as a second glance or a second thought.

“…and if Mr Addicot hadn’t tried to stop Sophie then she wouldn’t have ran away with the witch” Ben concluded.

“Yes, Mr Addicot was rather foolish, wasn’t he?” I finished making scrambled eggs and placed some bread on the toaster, then walked to the fridge “Milk or juice?”

“Juice please, dad”

“So, its Saturday” I placed the food on the table and sat down again “What do you want to do today?”

“mmmh…” My son’s hair was dirty blond and straight, falling on his forehead and close to his eyes, unlike mine which was sandy yellow and curly. That was one of the things he had gotten from him mum. His big brown eyes were mouse-like and he’d definitely look like a baby mouse if he was a bit chubbier “Can we go to the park today, dad?”

“Sure”

————Lucy————

“Mommy! Mommy! Wake up!”

The mattress shifted under me with new added weight and I felt as various figures moved about me. Two pairs of hands appeared on my shoulders and shook me insistently. I groaned in response and only shifted under the covers.

“Come on, mommy!”

The TV was suddenly turned on in the room and I heard the clicking of tiny things against the wooden floor as something else entered the room. Opening my eyes, I reached from under my pillows to the nightstand where a clock rested and read 10:28 a. m.

“Kids, its Saturday morning” I groaned and turned once more under my covers, resettling myself and closing my eyes once again.

“But mommy! We made you breakfast!” Now, that was concerning. I immediately sat straight on the bed and looked at the two kids sitting with me.

“You kids didn’t burn the kitchen, did you?” I asked them.

“No, we didn’t” The little boy said proudly.

“You didn’t spill anything, did you?”

“No” The girl giggled.

“And you kids did not set Bubbles’s bed in fire again, did you?”

“No! We were careful! We promise!” They raised their hands to their little chests and then offered me their pinky fingers of the other hand. I smiled tenderly and offered them my pinky finger.

“Alright then” Before getting up, Bubbles appeared beside me and jumped on the bed too, coming up to lick my face gleefully “Yes, yes, good morning to you too”

“So, come on then mommy!” My son, Freddy, jumped from the bed, took my hand and pulled.

“Ok, ok, I’m coming! Just give me a second” Pushing myself out of bed, I reached put my slippers on and let myself be dragged by my kids. Through the hall and down the stairs until we  reached the kitchen, the table set with three bowls ready, cereal, milk, a plate with biscuits and a jug of apple juice.

“Told you we didn’t burn anything” Rosie smiled at me.

“Thanks for preparing breakfast kids” I sat down between them at the table and served them. Bubbles came running from upstairs and immediately sat at my heels. I smiled contentedly at the sight of my children eating, milk dripping down their chins. And to think that some years back I would have done everything in my power to avoid a family.

The memories of my neglecting family had made me choose a single life, so when I started my studies as an art student, I decided to dedicate my entire existence to my art and nothing more. That got me successfully out of college with a bright and shiny future ahead of me. The world opened at my feet with open arms.

Still, like any sane woman with needs, I hooked up with many men, all of them from similar professions, and some times more than one of them at a time, but I never got myself involved into any serious relationships. I had no time for that.

Still, the inevitable happened. I got myself pregnant. With whom, I never knew and I didn’t cared. I was having a baby and I did not want that! I couldn’t have a baby, it’d ruin my career! That was all family was good for, ruining lives and making people miserable.

So, I made my decision. I’d have the baby and then I’d give it up for adoption. No questions asked, no father asking for money, no kids crying in the night. Problem solved.

As my pregnancy progressed, I found myself to be enormously inspired by the moods I was thrown into by the hormones. My paintings took a sharp turn and my productiveness spiked. I was in Artist Dreamland. Inspiration rolled off me in waves and I had nothing else to thank for than the baby that was growing inside me.

Then, when my pregnancy seemed to be going a little too fast, I was told I was carrying twins. That news scared me out of my mind: I had started to get fond of the little parasite, I knew, but now there were two. I realized with a heavy heart that I didn’t really wanted to give it away, but how could I take care of two kids on my own? Money was no problem, really, but I was a single woman, and proud to be, wouldn’t that affect the kids?

Before I knew it, my time for thinking was done, and I gave birth to a boy and a girl.

The new pride and joy of my life.

“I’ll go get Bubbles’s leash” Rosie chirped as she stood from her seat, leaving her bowl on the sink.

“What for?” I asked her.

“To go to the park!” Freddy exclaimed happily “You said we’d go to the park today!”

“I said that? I don’t remember” I said with a smirk.

“Mom!” The kids wailed in high-pitched voices. I laughed as they both hugged me and looked up with their best puppy-faces.

“I’m just kidding! Of course we’re going to the park”

————Lockwood————

The weather was very agreeable today. Not cloudy enough for it to rain all day, with a few patches of spring sun here and there, but with a promise of at least some drizzle in the late afternoon.

Hyde Park was only a few minutes away by cab. I sat at the back with Natasha sitting beside me, her favorite unicorn plushie in her arms. She was looking out the window excitedly, signaling here and there with her tiny, chubby hand and giggling happily.

The driver stopped in front one of the entrances and dropped us there. I paid for the ride and took my daughter’s hand in mine, walking away. The trees were bright green and fresh, the smell of wet grass lingering from this morning.

“Look daddy! Look at the flowers!” Natty pointed at the batches of pink, red and blue that out stood on the green “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yes, princess, they are!” I said and swept her off the ground. My baby daughter screamed and giggled in my arms as I trotted blissfully on the path. After a few seconds of spinning her about I placed her on my hip and kept walking. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and placed a kiss on my cheek.

We kept going for a few more minutes until we arrived to the playground. There were kids everywhere, running around the place and climbing on the games. Some were playing on the sandpit and other laughed as they took turns pushing each others on the swing sets.

I placed Nat on the ground and kneeled down.

“Now, play nice with the other kids, do not be mean and remember to share Sugar Cookie with the other kids if they ask nicely first”

“Yes daddy” I hugged her one last time before letting her go. I watched as she ran to the sandpit with her unicorn in hand, then I moved around to find bench in which to sit.

There were many other kids in the playground, on the monkey bars, the swing sets and the sandpit, and some others playing on the grass with their own toys. Of course, the surrounding area was filled with parents like myself, sitting or standing, talking among themselves or silently reading books, some even had their phones out or laptops in which they typed furiously.

As soon as I found a place to sit from which I had a good view of the play area, I got a call from a client. I didn’t usually received calls on weekends, those were reserved for my daughter, but when I did got them, I made sure to answer.

I talked to my client, Mr Jacob Evans, for a while, until I noticed some of the kids were tumbling out of the sand with scared looks on their little pudgy faces. Among them, Nat ran out of the pit as well, still with Sugar Cookie on her hands.

“Daddy!” She called me scaredy. I got up to my feet hurriedly and took her in my arms “A boy is pushing other kids!”

————George————

“MOMMY!”

A shrill cry made all parents look back at the play area. Most of the kids were now running back to their mothers and fathers, or running off to hide behind the bigger games or trees.

On the sandpit, a small group of slightly older boys stood before three little figures. The first of the, a small boy in blue shorts and red shirt with a design of a robot on it, was standing challengingly before the older boys with tears running down his chubby cheeks, his tiny hands balled into fists. The other two sat on the sand; a little girl in purple skirt and blue shirt, looking like she just saw the monster under her bed come out. The last kid was Benjamin, crying freely and rubbing his cheeks, which were covered in dirt. I immediately rose to my feet.

A woman who sat close to the area ran up to where the kids stood. She looked between the two boys, then to the girl and Benjamin, then her gaze hardened like steel on a cooler.

“What is going on here?” She asked, her voice cold with anger.

“He pushed Benny!” The little boy rose a finger accusingly “And he was saying mean things to Rosie!”

“Ben?” I called him as I approached the scene. My son ran up to me and clung to my jumper as I got closer, burying his face on the fabric after I lifted him in my arms.

“Him, daddy!” A new, also frilly voice exclaimed. Another girl walked over, pulling a man, her dad presumably, with her. He too, like the woman and myself, looked pissed at his daughter was pointing at.

Not a moment later those boys’ parents came up too. Now calmly, the kids re-explained what happened and the boys were told to apologize by their parents, which they begrudgingly did. After that, they were taken by the hand, walked away and left.

“Are you ok, Benny?” The little boy in red shirt asked my son. In my arms, Ben wiggled a little until I lowered him to the ground.

“Yes, I’m alright” He mumbled.

“Yay! Then we can keep playing, right mommy?” He turned to look at the woman, who chuckled lightly while comforting the girl in her arms, apparently her daughter. Taking more time to bask in detail now, I noticed she wore some jeans overall covered in all-colors painting dots and slashes, a white blouse to go under it. Though loose and a little baggy, the overalls complimented her curvy and maternal figure, accentuating the wideness of her hips and her waist.

“I don’t see why not”

“Can we stay a little longer, dad?” Benjamin asked, looking up at me with the same pleading eyes with which he always asked for a new book. Now, this was an unusual occurrence. I know perfectly well that Ben is normally picked up on by other kids, and this was the reason why he normally disliked coming to the park. That he had asked to come was already unusual.

When I noticed him playing with other kids instead of just staring at them playing, I was fully convinced this day would be out of the ordinary. Whenever he came up to me, telling me that the other kids were being mean to him, Ben always asked if we could go back home, a request I was always happy to comply with. Like him, I have always been a difficult person to socialize, though for different reasons.

Now, he was asking that we stayed, not that we left like we usually did.

I eyed the kids once more: the small boy in shorts and red shirt, the girls in skirts and nice shirts, and once again to my son in his khaki shorts and sky blue vest. Then I smiled.

“Of course”

“Come Rosie!” The boy called as he pulled Benjamin along to the swings. The girl wiggled in her mother’s arms until she was let down and went behind her brother.

“Can we stay too, daddy?” The other, slightly-older-looking girl asked the man who’s hand she was taking. Upon closer inspection, again allowing myself to bask a little more on the details, I observed how well dressed he was; black slacks, white t-shirt and dress shoes. His slacks were tight on his long legs, his shirt well tucked into them, also a little tight-looking. Not exactly something to wear at a park.

“Yes dear, now run along” He said and the girl took happily off after the other kids.

————Lucy————

“Anthony Lockwood” The man in coat-less suit said extending a hand to me, a wide and gleaming smile flashing. It took almost all ounce of self-control not to put a hand over my eyes to cover the way the sun shined upon his pearl-white teeth. He stood at least a head taller than me, if not more, in that tight-fitting suit he seemed so weirdly comfortable in.

“Lucy Carlyle” I shook his hand, then he turned to the other man and again offered his hand. He had a mop of unruly blond hair that fell on his forehead but not near enough that it covered his bright blue eyes. He wore a green jumper and some cream-colored pants that told me that, like my own, his sense of clothing was rusty.

“George Cubbins” He said, shaking his and my hand, then pushed his round glasses up his nose.

“Is this a common occurrence?” The tall suited man, Mr Lockwood, asked while looking in the direction the kids ran.

“For my son, yes” Mr Cubbins said “He is usually victim to bigger kids wanting to do mischief”

“My daughter too” I agreed “But my son, Freddy, knows how to repel bullies”

“How?” Mr Lockwood turned to me.

“By yelling ‘mom!’ like bloody murder” I laughed and both men beside me chuckled light-heartedly “That always seems to catch them off guard. Then I appear and the bullies flee”

“No wonder why, I might have actually fled in terror myself” Mr Lockwood said while I and Mr Cubbins snorted amusedly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, mr-”

“Oh no, just call me Lockwood! No need for formalities. After all, your kids seems to have befriended my daughter”

“Thank god they have” Mr Cubbins, or rather, George said with a heavy sight “I was starting to fear Benjamin would remain a hermit forever”

“Oh, my son finds friends even where there are none!” I exclaimed chuckling “His sister just goes along with him most of the time, except if she knows they’ll get in trouble”

“They sound like quite a pair”

“Our poor dog is witness to their mischief” Then I remembered. I looked back to the table I had been sitting in before Freddy yelled, and saw my bag with the notebook I had been sketching on open, Bubbles playing with a toy beside the table.

“Is that your dog?” Lockwood asked beside me.

“Yes, Bubbles, our puppy”

“What did your kids do to it?” George asked as we briefly watched the dog shaking the squeaky toy.

“They set his bed on fire after I left the kitchen to answer the phone” They laughed as they imagined the little white Pomeranian running away from a blazing dog bed.

In the end the three of us sat at a table and talked some more about our kids (told some embarrassing and some not-so embarrassing anecdotes about them) and some other matters, until we agreed it was getting dark.

We collected our children and exchanged numbers in hopes of later arranging playdates for the kids to see each other again. Then we all took out leave.

As I drove back home and watched my babies dozing off on their seats, I thought back to the two men, Lockwood and George. I was surprised to find that when we talked I had been comfortable enough to share stories about my kids, which I normally didn’t with almost nobody. I preferred to keep the matters about my family to myself, but today I chatted and chatted like a teenager talking about her crush with her best friends.

There was something about them, I wasn’t sure what, that made me feel at ease. Something reassuring and uplifting that inspired trust and gave my stomach a giddy softness.

For some reason I was excited to see when the playdate would be arranged.

[shieldagentscully-blog]

Scalpel & SHIELD: Chapter 5 - Big, Goddamn Hero

Howard University - 2002

Scully hadn’t ever seen herself teaching at a university. It was the farthest thing from her mind years ago when she studied under Daniel Waterston at Stanford, the brilliant cardiologist, thinking she was going to fix hearts and change lives. She had been young, brilliant, eager to please, and absolutely full of herself back then. But life had a funny way of turning things upside down. More than a decade ago, she stood at a crossroads. Broken hearted and betrayed, she had the choice to stay in the field she no longer loved with a man who had lied to her or to forge a new path in a more interesting field and perhaps make a greater difference than she’d thought possible. She took a gamble and left to join the FBI. It hadn’t worked out exactly as she had hoped, but it was the path that led her to the X-files and to Mulder. For all that she lost, she could never regret having him come into her life.

Now she stood at another crossroads, another choice between a road that was secure but not fulfilling and one that held the promise of the things she sought but could destroy her and her son. To most, the choice should have been simple, but Scully had wrestled with it all night, laying in bed, the young face of Samantha, heartbroken and tired, floated to her mind. She had been alive in 1974. She had lived until 1979. Just what had the likes of Spender and Rinehardt done to her? What had she endured? Were those men still out there, kidnapping other Samanthas? Did they have Mulder?

It was that last thought that sent her out of bed, finally, giving up on sleep as she flipped quietly through channels until William finally stirred, bright and early, as always. He hardly noticed her dark mood as he fussed and whined, his sore teeth and gums making him fractious as he piddled with breakfast as she tried to force coffee into herself. He had been even less thrilled to be dressed and loaded up in the car to go to his daycare, howling most of the way there until she got him inside, upon which time his entire personality changed to that of an angelic saint. Frustration didn’t even begin to describe her mood as she returned to her car and made her way to campus, fighting Midterm students and parking. By the time she even got to her office, she was in the mood to lock herself up, hide away, and pray that no student came looking for her.

Unfortunately, even as she rounded the corner, she saw someone sitting just outside of her office door. She had already sighed and begun to mentally prepare herself before it occurred to her that the man waiting patiently couldn’t possibly be a student. He was at least 80, far too old to be the average college student, and certainly no one she remembered having in her class. He sat straight in the heavy chair that sat out there, one hand laying on the cane at his side, his silver head resting against the wall by her door. She cleared her throat as she approached, causing him to look up with a broad smile.

“You must be the talented and amazing Doctor Scully I’ve been hearing about!”

That caught her short, but she smiled, recognizing the compliment. “Someone clearly has been telling you some sort of line if they said those things about me.”

“I doubt my daughter would lie to me like that. She hasn’t lied to me since she was seventeen, and I caught her in the backyard, in the dark, with a boy. She learned better! But, she says good things about you.”

It took her only seconds after that to realize who she was indeed speaking to. “Doctor Jones, I presume?”

“I could be Livingston, but that would flip the tables a bit, no?”

Scully laughed, unlocking her office to let the older gentleman in. He rose slowly from his seat, leaning on his cane, but still tall and proud despite the age that now withered him.

“Come in, sir! Have a seat.” She waved to one of the two leather seats by her chair, the one not currently occupied by a stack of ungraded papers. “Can I get you coffee? Water?”

“I’m fine!” He waived her offer off as he settled into the creaking leather. “If I knew that you were so pretty and accommodating, I’d have been here to see you sooner.”

“Well, you are here, and that’s what matters.” She perched on the other side of the desk, trying to bite back the grin of delight and amazement. Gabriel Jones was a figure of legend in her household growing up, as were all the Howling Commandos. The old films had been a staple of television viewing, and while Scully was well aware that the real life heroes were very different than the sanitized, Hollywood depictions, she couldn’t help but feel like a figure of history and legend had just alighted into her office.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir! I can’t even tell you how special it is that you stopped by!”

“Well, Wanda kept telling me to get over here and I kept putting it off, but I happened to be by today. Had coffee with some of the donors and advancement, you know the types, all wanting to pump hands and look impressive. Had enough of that and decided to come find someone with a brain to talk to.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m honored! Ever since your daughter told me that her father was the famous Gabriel Jones, I’ve been bugging her to meet you. You were a hero of mine growing up!”

“You watched those stupid movies?”

“Well, I was also seven and convinced you all could walk on water, Captain America especially!”

“Well, Cap probably could walk on water, but the rest of us were just average, Army Joes, doing a job.”

“I don’t know, taking down HYDRA and defeating Johann Schmidt seemed more than just the average Army work.”

“Still fighting and dying, just like everyone else.” He nodded, solemnly, a sad sort of wistfulness about him as he regarded her. “Wanda tells me you were in the FBI before she dragged you over here.”

“I was for about ten years. I worked in a small division for most of it, investigating unsolved and strange cases.”

“The X-files, I heard about them.”

That surprised her. Few people outside of the FBI knew about them and those that did often mocked them. He didn’t seem to be doing that. “I’m sorry, how did you know about them, sir?”

“I’m not ‘sir’, I’m Gabe, and as for how I heard about them, I knew Arthur Dales from my days in SHIELD. He had been Army buddies with someone, maybe Sawyer, but anyway, he would come and chat with us on some of the more interesting cases he had going on.”

“You were in SHIELD?”

“For a bit, yes. We were all under the auspices of the SSR, which eventually was closed down after the war and rolled into SHIELD when it was formed. I was there for a while, till the kids started come along and getting older and I realized I wanted to be around to see them grow up. Left SHIELD, finished up my degrees and went into teaching history and public policy.”

“I know, I’ve read some of your articles.” The fact that Dr. Jones was an intellectual on top of being a hero had caused her no small delight, especially given his long career in academia. “So do you really speak five languages?”

“Seven? Been bored in my retirement.” He laughed brightly, as he leaned back comfortably. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved teaching and researching. By the time I got into it, I could actually have the sort of voice I couldn’t have when I was a kid in the 40’s, getting a degree that may or may not allow me to work in the nicer establishments of Washington DC. But, as much as I loved doing it, there was a part of me that missed the old life.”

“The Commandos?”

“Yeah.” He grinned with broad reminiscence. “I didn’t even start out the war with those guys. I was in the 92nd Infantry, the Buffalo Soldiers, because that’s where they stuck the black kids that signed up. We got sent to Italy to serve as support there. That’s how I met Barnes and Dugan. They were in the 107th and all of us were sent to face Schmidt. We all just happened to be captured together. War has that habit, I guess, putting folks together that would never have talked to one another until they were forced to live in the same, ten foot cage.”

That was the least of the horrors that Scully knew most soldiers faced in World War II. “Despite all that, you still wanted to fight?”

“Hell, yes! I saw what they could do, HYDRA.” Something dark and grave passed over his expression, a ghost of old terror, never forgotten, rising to the fore. “We were just sitting ducks there when they came up over the hill with their lasers, blowing tanks to kingdom come. Whole platoons cut down in an instant. We had no choice but to surrender. And then to be drug to Schmidt’s hell, forced to work till we dropped, or like Barnes, till we nearly died. I saw most of my unit go that way, drug off to wherever Zola had them. None of them ever made it out.”

Scully didn’t know what to say to that. She knew death intimately, saw it on it’s most basic, fundamental, scientific level everyday. And she knew something of the horrors faced by soldiers in World War II, but admittedly had only paid half attention to them. Like many historical events, they seemed so distant and outside of her, not something real and tangible. Seeing the grief of someone who lived it, even after sixty years, made it all too palpable.

“Anyway, when Cap came and got us out, the Army offered to send most of us home, discharge us on medical leave. I thought about it, frankly, more than just a little bit. After all, most everyone I knew was dead, and here I was, a colored boy with a college education doing grunt work and nearly getting killed for it. I had half a mind to come back home to Howard and walk away from it all. But, then Cap comes along, all truth and justice and wanting to punch Hitler in the jaw, and I’m signing up to join his suicide squad along with Dernier. Never regretted it for a second.”

This conversation was hitting uncomfortably close to home for her. “Even when it would have been safer for you to go back home and lead a quiet life?”

“One could have argued there wasn’t much of a quiet life back home, either, not for someone who looked like me. Maybe I knew that and didn’t want to have to face that. Maybe I wanted a bit of revenge for those that didn’t make it out, like I did. But, I figure, a lot of it was Steve.”

Captain America. Even the name caused a thrill, knowing that this man knew someone she so revered. “What was he like?”

“Steve Rogers?” That caused Gabe to laugh outright, a wheezing sound as he shook his silver head. “I’d love to tell you half the crap those movies put out there was bullshit, but a lot of it was true. First time he came waltzing into our prison, all by himself, not an ounce of self-preservation to him, saying he was ‘Captain America’ and that he’d punched Hitler 200 times. We all thought he was nuts. We didn’t realize it wasn’t that he was crazy, it was just that he was stubborn and convinced his will was bigger than yours. But, he grew up this scrawny Irish kid from the wrong side of Brooklyn, so I suppose he always had that chip on his shoulder.”

“As a scrawny, Irish kid myself, I understand that feeling intimately.”

Gabe only chuckled. “Yeah, but you are a hell of a lot prettier than Rogers was.”

“Oh, I’ve seen pictures. I don’t know about that.”

“Lord, you too! Barnes was always floored by it, these women throwing themselves at Cap and he wouldn’t know what to do. Of course, he only ever had eyes for Peggy, so I don’t think he even noticed.”

Shaking his head, he sighed fondly. “Steve could be obtuse like that, but in a good way, you know. He never saw differences the same way others did. Didn’t matter to him if you were white, brown or yellow, didn’t matter if you were even American, only that you wanted to do the right thing and were willing to take a stand when no one else would. Guess when you grow up like he and Barnes did, those things don’t matter as much, maybe.”

There was no hiding the deep sadness welling up in his fond words. “You must really miss them.”

“The Commandos? Yeah, everyday. There’s really only Peggy, Morita and me now. Jim’s harassing his grandkids and traveling the world. Peggy’s only now retiring from SHIELD. Thought they would have to carry her out on one, frankly, didn’t think she’d ever leave. And here I am, mostly retired, teaching a class now and again, stumping for my alma mater, going to museum openings.”

“Don’t suppose it’s as exciting as taking out HYDRA.” Despite herself, Scully couldn’t help but think of Coulson’s visit and his simple request, or the fact that deep down, underneath the pain of loss and fears for her son, she had really wanted to say yes.

“No, but it’s a good life for a man just turned 80. Besides, there’s others to fight those fights now. My grandson, Antoine, he’s joining up with SHIELD when he’s done with his degree. Says someone has to carry on the family legacy.”

Someone has to carry on.

The last conversation Scully had with Mulder before he disappeared had been outside of Skinner’s office, the fateful evening when Alex Krycek had shown back up in their lives. He’d begged her to stay, to leave the X-files, to go be a doctor and live her life and leave the mystery behind...to leave him behind. She tried, she really had. But Coulson’s visit loomed, along with the implied threat of what still lay out there. Spender, as far as anyone knew, was still alive and was still dangerous. It didn’t matter that she left the X-files and the FBI behind, that she had stopped asking questions, that she was attempting to lead a normal life, if he was still out there, he was still scheming. And knowing he had likely been with HYDRA the entire time made the danger even more overt. If he had used his own children in his heinous experiments, what was to say he wouldn’t come for his grandson?

“Do you know Phil Coulson? He’s an agent with SHIELD.”

Something sharp flickered in Gabe’s eyes, but he played off at being nonchalant. “I’ve heard the name, yeah. One of Fury’s agents, said to be really good. How do you know him?”

“He came to visit me last night.” She eyed Gabe pointedly, sensing he knew far more about that than he was willing to let on. “I found it interesting he rushed to see me on a Sunday evening, on my way back from Baltimore, right after your daughter made me a nice job offer to stay and teach here.”

“I’d only say it was interesting if I knew what a SHIELD agent was doing at your house.”

“Making me a counter-offer.”

“Well, then, that is interesting. SHIELD wants to recruit you.”

“Apparently, he heard from sources about me.”

“SHIELD could use a woman of your talents.”

“So could your alma mater.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Wanda would be upset if you left her. She’s been thrilled to have you. But like Antoine keeps telling me, someone has to carry on.”

As simple as that, she realized her decision was made.

“I have a feeling your daughter is going to be mad at me.”

Gabe only smiled knowingly. “Just like when I caught her in the backyard with a boy, I’m sure she’ll get over it. She’s used to me coming in and messing up her good time.”

[thedefinitionofbts]

Crossroads Hiding the Moon

Pairings: Min Yoongi x Reader | Min Yoongi x OC

Genre: Single Dad!Yoongi, Baby!Taehyung, Angst and Fluff

Words: 8K

Description: As requested by anon: “A single dad! yoongi with a toddler? Like super angst in a way that his wife suddenly left them so he turns cold. But then someone comes into their life and his son started calling her mommy, they try to work it out for the kid. Just when everything's better, the ex wife returns and things get complicated but ends up in fluff.”

A/N: My first request! Omg, I finished this super fast because I got way too excited to do a request lol. Well, I hope you enjoy this anonie :)

Present 

If there is anything Min Yoongi hates more than being late for important events, it’s driving through the rain during rush hour. He’s on his way to pick up his four year old son, Taehyung, after a long day in the studio, and maybe if Jungkook was more vocally skilled at execution or if Namjoon wasn’t so nit picky about the lyrics, he wouldn’t feel as emotionally drained while the sun was still up. But no, the overly self-confident main vocalist was too arrogant to take constructive criticism seriously, and the popular boy group’s resident genius was too much of a perfectionist to let one “lackluster” chorus slide. So here he is, sitting in the his car listening to the unrelenting raindrops splatter against his windshield, and waiting for the vehicle in front of him to stop drunkenly swerving into his lane.  

Truthfully, Yoongi had been feeling rather uneasy all day. He was reluctant to send Taehyung off to daycare, not knowing if the other children would make fun of the toddler for his second hand clothing that Yoongi barely had the money to afford or his eccentric personality that is often misunderstood. Yoongi’s new job didn’t allow children to run around the studio, and it was his first big break, finally being hired by a company as established in the music industry as BigHit just when rent was due in less than 2 weeks and his bank account had been sucked dry because he insisted on buying that expensive pair of shoes for the toddler’s birthday, even if it meant he had to skip lunch each day for the next month. He had barely been scraping by before his self-composed song was selected as the winner of the online competition BigHit had held for rising producers, and it was like the heaven’s was finally listening to his silent prayers.

It’s still pouring as the traffic continues to move at a snails pace, causing Yoongi to drown in his overly worried mind once again. He was afraid Taehyung would be the last kid picked up, having to watch all the other children leave with their parents causing him to start having thoughts of Yoongi abandoning him, just like his mother did. Yoongi swallows thickly and grips the steering wheel tighter, forcing himself not to think about something he’s been trying to forget for over two years now.

 When he arrives at the daycare, Yoongi sees Taehyung sitting alone by the window, shoulder slightly slump and legs that were too short to touch the ground swinging carelessly as he stared at the pellets of water trickling down the glass, blurring the view of the grey world outside. He almost looks like he was deep in thought, and it makes Yoongi wonder if Taehyung’s young mind is actually thinking about something profound or if his head was just filled with his favorite cartoons on replay.

“Ah, Mr. Min! You’re finally here.” The friendly voice of the woman in charge snaps Yoongi out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the task at hand.

Yoongi clears his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, I’m here to pick up Taehyung.”

At the sound of his name, Taehyung’s little head perks up and a boxy smile appears on his face as he turns his head to see his father standing at the doorway. And before Yoongi can call him over, the four year old was already a step ahead and had ran over to jump into his arms.

“Daddy!” He laughs, nuzzling his head into the crook of Yoongi’s neck as the older male lifts him off the ground.

“He’s been waiting for quite a while.” The lady brings up the fact that Yoongi was nearly 45 minutes late, as if it hadn’t been obvious by the room void of children except Tae. She has a smile on her face, so Yoongi assumes she doesn’t say that with ill intent but rather concern for his son who had to watch all the other kids leave with their parents.

“Sorry, Tae, this won’t happen again.” Yoongi apologizes, bouncing the little boy in his arms to get in a more comfortable position.

Taehyung shakes his head. “It’s ok, I knew you’d come.”

Yoongi reaches up and ruffles Taehyung’s fluffy hair, smiling at the little boy because his heart felt too full to describe whatever emotion he was feeling into words. If Yoongi was being really honest, the kid was the only person filling that miserable numbness he wakes up to each morning, the only person that can actually bring out a genuine smile from the depths of his being, even if he has to force himself to ignore the other person that Taehyung reminds him of. He often wonders if Taehyung hides his sadness with a childish front, but maybe that was just Yoongi overthinking again or even an effect of projecting his own mindset on the toddler. On one hand, the kid was only four years old, and yet on the other, he had already gone through so much at such a young age.  

Taehyung doesn’t want to get his new shoes wet, and honestly neither does Yoongi because Gucci for kids still cost the rising producer an arm and a leg, so Yoongi offers to carry him on the condition that he holds the umbrella–“because daddy doesn’t have three arms”. And of course Taehyung doesn’t object, and so the two of them walk to Yoongi’s car that is parked a block away because street parking was much cheaper than paying for a spot in the lot.

“Daddy look, that person doesn’t have an umbrella” Yoongi’s head turns in the direction that Taehyung’s stubby finger is pointed, and low and behold he see’s you using your wallet sized purse to cover your head in a feeble attempt to remain somewhat dry as you ran towards them waiting for the light to turn green at the crosswalk.  

Yoongi stands still, head positioned straight, and gaze fixed at the passing cars on the street as you reached the spot where he was standing with Taehyung, pretending like there wasn’t someone being drenched in the rain while he remained sheltered under an umbrella large enough to fit an entire family.

“Aww, you’re so sweet, thank you.” Your comment makes Yoongi’s jerk his head around and realize just what had happened. Unbeknownst to him, Taehyung had moved the umbrella in a way so that it covered your head as well, and now the three of you were in a situation Yoongi would rather not have to address at a time like this.

“You’re pretty” Taehyung says, giggling a little as he continued to look at your with wide eyes and an impossibly friendly smile.

“Tae” Yoongi mildly scolds, wondering what had gotten into his son, questioning why in the world Taehyung would take part in such an unusual act of kindness towards a stranger on the street, and it wasn’t until Yoongi’s eyes meet directly with yours that the answer to that very question became as obvious as day.

You were almost a mirror image of her.

 …

 Past

When he was younger, Min Yoongi was a big fan of love that was like summer rain. The kind that hits you suddenly and bursts out of your soul like the scent of earthly elements coming back to life, filling the atmosphere when a seemingly never-ending drought finally comes to an end. Blame his artistic mind and tendency to describe emotion through song, a habit of his that manifested as an interest for the arts when he was young and caused him to spend most of his time listening to music rather than playing with other kids outside. And it was precisely for that reason that Min Yoongi knew he wanted to be a composer from the moment he entered college, opting to major in music the second he got the chance to meet with his university counselor.

He didn’t care what his parents thought of it, didn’t heed the advice from his older successful businessman brother-who was always the favorite in the family-about the risks of trying to make it big in the turbulent music industry. Yoongi was a big believer in passion being the key to success, of course not without hard work and discipline, which was why he found himself in the music theater, practicing classical pieces on the grand piano without an audience, every single day of the year. Because not only was it a place he came to associate with the undying love he harbored for music and the optimistic hope he had for the future, it was also where he met Kim Chaewon for the very first time.

“You’re Min Yoongi, right?”

The silvery voice floats over to Yoongi’s ear, cutting through the musical piece he had been so thoroughly absorbed in. It was almost too cliché because Chaewon exhibited a kind of beauty that made his jaw drop the moment he lifted his gaze off the black and white keys and spotted her walking down the steps to the empty stage. Even though the performance hall was only half lit, her skin still managed to glow smoothly under the dim artificial lighting, and her eyes were large and puppy-like, kind and gentle, like warm spring zephyr.

“Yeah, I am.” Yoongi answers, eyes still fixed on the girl who is smiling at him like winter snow had just melted away after months of turning to decaying slush.

“The one the professor kept raving about in class today, right?”

“Oh, that was…” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, reminded of how embarrassing it was for the music professor to brag about his project on sound layering. He didn’t like being the center of attention and had sunk lower in the seat when the man had mentioned his name, not that anyone could put a face to his name, or so he thought. 

She giggles, light and airy, making Yoongi flush because he’s never met anyone who’s shown genuine interest in his novice work, well except for said professor who keeps praising him in front of the class.

“I forgot to mention, I’m Chaewon. You probably don’t me, but I’ve secretly been listening to you play for quite a while now and just summed up the guts to talk to you today.” Her gaze drops shyly, waiting for Yoongi to respond to her confession.

Yoongi’s at lost for words, not knowing how to respond to such a statement, especially when she’s making his heart beat a mile a minute. At the very least he’s poised enough to thank her for being a fan, which sounded really dumb stuttering out of his nervous mouth but manages to make her laugh, so it wasn’t all in vain he supposes. 

Yoongi never thought about how it would feel to actually have someone support his dreams, he wasn’t looking for that kind of reassurance because he was used to being looked down upon. He was used to chasing after something that was unimaginably far away, one that makes him feel like he was running in place every day and that tomorrow would never truly arrive. It never really bothered him because his passion for music stayed true, and he was always confident that he would never stray from that path that would take him closer towards his dream, but Kim Chaewon came to him like summer rain. She was the first person to sincerely believe in him, and she did it when no one else bothered to give his music a chance, when the rest of the world was against his humble beginnings and rejected the potential of an underdog making it to the top.

“You’re going to be an amazing songwriter and producer one day.” Chaewon says to Yoongi as they walk under the cascading cherry blossoms on a warm April afternoon. The sun was warmer than normal today, and the scenery was hazy like an actual dream, only it was actually real and closer than anything else in Yoongi’s life at the time.  

“I really hope so.” Yoongi sighs, reminded of all the obstacles that lie on the road ahead.

“I know you will because you’re Min Yoongi and the world deserves to be graced by your unparalleled art.”

Kim Chaewon was ethereal, because not only was her outer appearance angelic and otherworldly, her personality was just as lovely as Yoongi eventually learned over the years. And although Yoongi knew from the moment their minds clicked like that of soulmates that she was the one, it was because she stuck with him through the all-time lows, those periods when he lost the magic touch and would he hit a slump that barred him from coming up with anything good for months, that led Yoongi to love Chaewon more than that satisfying feeling of finally completing a song that conveyed exactly what he intended, more than the way rain cascades like diamond tears from the sky and ends in a passing sun shower that gives birth to a rainbow, and more than everything he thought was meaningful in life before she lit up his world.

 Their love was a crystal clear story, one that wasn’t supposed to end.

 …

 Present

Grocery shopping is always a pain, and not entirely due to the fact that Yoongi was literally broke, but because he had to take time to consider healthy options for his growing boy. If it was just him, he would be fine shoving cheap junk down his esophagus or surviving on minimal food for most of the month, but because of Taehyung, he was forced to actually prepare meals with vegetables and make sure Tae always has his daily serving of fruits, which entailed a trip to the grocery store every weekend.

Luckily Taehyung isn’t all that picky for a four year old, but he was addicted to coke and Yoongi can do nothing but blame himself for allowing the kid to get his hands on the addictive soft drink. In his defense, he didn’t think one sip could have such a dramatic effect, but boy was he wrong.

“Coke!” Taehyung shouts, finger pointing at the 2-liter bottles of black liquid with their signature red label, lined on the shelves. His eyes were opened wide and sparkling like he just saw his first love.

“Not today, Tae” Yoongi mutters, ignoring the boy’s disappointed pout and quickly pushing the shopping cart past the soda section and heading straight towards the breakfast cereals and oatmeal.

He’s trying to decide if cereal is healthy or not. He’s heard of most types being just pure sugar, but there has to be some vitamins hidden in there, right? It was convenient that’s for sure, and Yoongi was definitely a fan of anything that required minimal preparation from box to mouth. Especially in the mornings when he would feel most groggy and not have any motivation to even think about food.  

“Hi!” Yoongi hears Taehyung shout at someone walking down the isle, and at first he suspects it’s just some random person that caught his son’s attention, but as he tears his gaze away from the nutrition information printed on the cereal box, he sees someone who makes him do a double take.

The world was definitely fucking with him.

“Hey there little fella, so we meet again.” You smile at the little boy who shared his umbrella with you the other day, reaching over and patting his head as he sat in the shopping cart.

“I’m Y/N by the way, sorry I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself the other day.” You wait for the father of the little boy to look up at you.

“Min Yoongi” He responds, still avoiding eye contact.

“I see you’re taking good care of him” You hint at the box of cheerios that Yoongi was scrutinizing.

“I try” He exhales, throwing the box into the cart and preparing to walk off.

You trail after them, wanting to help out in some way because they had been so kind to you on that rainy day and the kid was the cutest little bun you had ever seen.

“Almond milk would be a good option to pair with that.” You suggest. “Calcium for strong bones.” Your voice is light and optimistic, a tone that Yoongi isn’t so happy to be met with because he’s used to being left alone and ignored.

“Are you some sort of expert?” Yoongi scoffs, mildly annoyed at the fact that you’re clearly not going away, but it’s not like he can just voice that directly.

“I’m not a certified nutritionist, but I know a few things.” You grin, flashing Yoongi a knowing look before taking them down each isle and explaining what foods are healthy as well as easy to prepare. “My sister has a son about the same age as yours, and I babysit for her the time.” You explain, trying to lighten the mood.

He’s more than reluctant at first, face remaining as stoic as ever, but Yoongi hates grocery shopping and he’s too tired to keep reading lists of nutrition information and trying to decipher the hoard of long words he doesn’t even know. So he looks at you momentarily before nodding and diverting his eyes, praying that this’ll be a one-time thing and that it ends as soon as he checks out of the store.

He didn’t welcome your friendly attitude towards him because he didn’t need another person in his life to smile at him like everything was ok, like there’s another chance for him to be happy again and have the courage to trust emotions he doesn’t think are real anymore. Not when you’re standing in front of him looking more breathtaking than anyone he’s seen in years, not when you give off such a soothing and caring aura that Yoongi wishes he hadn’t noticed, and certainly not when you remind him so much of the person he still loves no matter how hard he tries to forget.

It’s pathetic, but Yoongi wants to avoid complicated shit like the plague. He doesn’t need another love story that’ll ripe his heart into tiny pieces and leave him slowly bleeding out on an empty street. He doesn’t need light that makes him believe in lies that disguise themselves as promises, and he doesn’t want to open wounds that have not and will most certainly never heal, because he knows if history repeats itself, he won’t come out of it alive the second time.

“You need help with that?” You offer, gesturing to the arm full of plastic bags Yoongi was holding as the three of you walk out of the store.

“No” He says, detached and not even bothering to spare you a glance.

Yoongi feels Taehyung tug on his pant leg, and he knows exactly what the little boy wants.

“Daddy can’t carry you now, you have to walk like a big boy.”

Taehyung whimpers, a noise that makes the hair on Yoongi’s neck stand up because he knows what’s coming next. And Yoongi curses in his head because you were still walking next to them, which Yoongi is starting to question why you hadn’t left yet because he doesn’t want you to witness what his son’s about to do next.

Taehyung starts wailing, loudly. And it sounds so sad anyone who heard his cries would think his dog had just died or something because no four year old should be able to convey emotions so depressing with just ugly sobbing over something as trivial as having to walk when he wants to be carried, but Tae manages to excel in that area and Yoongi swears the kid could grow up to be an amazing actor-but that’s besides the point right now. The sound echoes throughout the neighborhood, ricocheting off the walls of the houses lining the streets, causing passerbys to cover their ears in annoyance and Yoongi’s face to flush hotly from the growing embarrassment.

“Tae” Yoongi scolds through gritted teeth, but his harsh attitude on makes the boy cry even more. Yoongi closes his eyes and curses again, but just as he was about to bend over and attempt to lift the boy up with seven shopping bags in hand, you’ve already beat him to the catch.

“Awww, don’t cry sweetie, I’ll carry you” You’ve already lifted the toddler up into your arms, wiping his tear stained cheeks with a handkerchief from your purse. “It’s tiring to walk isn’t it?” 

Taehyung nods and looks at you with puffy red eyes, but just as soon as you beam at him, his boxy smiles makes a return and it was as if he hadn’t just been bawling just a minute ago.

Yoongi sighs, making a mental note that he needs to stop spoiling Taehyung before the kid starts thinking he can always get his way.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” The question slips out of Yoongi’s mouth after another fifteen minutes of walking, but he regrets it immediately because the pregnant pause that follows starts to suffocate him and he doesn’t even have the guts to look at the flustered expression on your face.

“I-I, ummm”

Yoongi almost regrets calling you out the way he did. He wasn’t purposefully trying to make you feel uncomfortable, but his query was valid. Why were you following them home?

“I know this probably sounds crazy, but I live in the same apartment complex as you. I’ve seen the two of you around, but I-I guess I probably shouldn’t have assumed you knew me since I’ve never officially introduced myself before.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what to think. He’s now certain that the world was fucking with him because this is definitely fate throwing him some kind of curve ball that he can’t escape, or maybe it’s more like a boomerang that’s aimed towards his head.

He clears his throat. “Oh”

That’s all he says in response to your explanation. He doesn’t address the issue further, not when the rest of the walk remains shrouded in silence or when the tension between you and him is skyrocketing through the roof as Yoongi struggles with the door to the apartment complex and is unwilling to ask you to help him, only to grunt a muffled thanks when you rush to his aid with his son still in your arms, and not even when you put Taehyung back on the ground and wave good-bye to the toddler as you exit the elevator on the fifth floor.

 …

 Past

Chaewon informs Yoongi that she’s missed her period, and normally this wouldn’t alarm her if it weren’t for the added tenderness in her breasts and weird food cravings that she hasn’t experienced until recently or the fact that she and Yoongi had just made love for the first time right after the both of them successfully graduated from university. He had suggested using protection on that night, but Chaewon didn’t think anything unexpected would happen from one time.

Evidently, she was wrong.

“Yoongi, I’m pregnant.” Chaewon holds the pregnancy test up so Yoongi can examine the double lines that have appeared. There’s no joy in her face, no disappointment either, but rather a subtle hint of fear tainting her formerly cheerful eyes. 

They weren’t married, and they didn’t have stable jobs or their lives put together. In such a situation, who wouldn’t be terrified to see those two tiny markings on such a life-altering day? Chaewon is thinking about what she’s going to say to her parents, running through all the options they have when it comes to dealing with this, and praying that maybe the test was wrong and that she was only experiencing such symptoms because of stress or a hormonal imbalance not due to the zygote now latched on to her uterine wall.

“Chaewon…” Yoongi gasps, rushing over and embracing her as if he had just been gifted all the stars in the universe, embracing the feeling of excitement mixed with apprehension saturating his senses like it was the most beautiful moment in his life.

“What do we do?” She utters, so softly Yoongi has to lean down and caress her cheek, lifting her chin so he can gaze sincerely into her eyes with the utmost resolve.

“We’ll welcome our beautiful child into this world.”

 …

Present 

“Yoongi!”

Ok, so now Yoongi is convinced that you’re just a stalker. Like how? He had just walked out of the apartment to take a walk and clear his head after getting Taehyung to take a nap. And just as he was running through all of these album concepts in his head, you happened to spot him strolling along the sidewalk towards the park next to the apartment complex.

Yoongi’s ready to sigh wearily as he sees you walk up to him.

“I was just about to ask if you wanted to have Taehyung meet my sister’s son, Park Jimin. I’m going to babysitting him all next week and if you’re busy with work and stuff, you can drop him off at my apartment.” You smile, waiting for some kind of response from Yoongi. He was so hard to read you begin to wonder if he’s just like that because of his natural personality or if he really didn’t want to see you because there was no sign of elation or even pretend politeness on his face.  

“Sure.” Yoongi doesn’t think things through before answering, and he mentally scolds himself for not considering the aftermath of taking you up on your offer, because now he’s officially caught in a relationship more intimate that he promised he would ever allow himself to be with another person. Fuck.

But the thought of not having to rush out of the BigHit building and picking Taehyung up after daycare was just too tempting, and better yet, he didn’t even have to get up an hour early to drop Taehyung off at daycare because you literally lived two floors down, and Taehyung like you for reasons Yoongi is choosing to ignore at this point because that would just twist things up more than they already are.

“Great! I guess I’ll see you Monday then!” You chirp, waving and heading back to the apartment.

 …

 Taehyung and Jimin get along better than two peas in a pod. Any outsider would assume they had been friends for years or were brothers from another mother. They are in fact the exact same age, give or take a month or two, and they surprisingly shared more interests than Yoongi could’ve predicted.

“How was your day?” You ask as Yoongi enters your apartment to pick up his son.  

“Nothing too special.” Yoongi has a minor flashback of Jungkook stuffing a pair of chopsticks up his nose and trying to sing. It was not pretty, but it made him laugh, which is quite a difficult feat so he let it slide.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where do you work?”

“BigHit Entertainment.”

“Whoa, you produce music for Beyond the Scene?” Your eyes widen. “Their music is always topping the charts!”

“I just started, so no, none of my songs have been chart toppers quite yet.”

“But still, you have to be good if they hired you.”

“I guess” He shrugs. 

“I’m a huge fan of them.” You admit, face flushing a little. “I’ve been following them since debut.”

“They do have a lot of fans.” Yoongi comments. He looks around the room, rubbing his hands together and trying to figure out a way to thank you for taking care of Taehyung all day and leaving without it seeming like he was taking advantage of your services and didn’t give a fuck about camaraderie.

“So…uh-”

Yoongi isn’t allowed to finish his attempt at more small talk before Taehyung interrupts him. “Mommy, will Jimin come back tomorrow?” Taehyung’s little head momentarily turns away from the toys splayed out on the floor and looks at you and Yoongi sitting on the couch in the living room.

You’re surprised by the four year old’s choice of words because Taehying hadn’t called you by any name other than your own all day. You’re immediate reaction is of shock, but endearment soon replaces that initial astonishment as he beams at you like a blooming flower.

Yoongi grits his teeth, body stiffening at the sound of his son voicing those syllables to a woman that is not Kim Chaewon. He feels irritated, balling his hands into fists as he tries not to drown in this pool of opposing collisions that is making his head spin. She left. But she’s his real mom. She left. But I love her.  

“You’re disgusting” He spits out, getting up from the couch.

“W-what?” You utter, shaking your head and trying to digest the situation.

“I trusted you and you brainwashed him. I knew you were a monster.” Yoongi walks over in a fit of rage and grabs Taehyung’s arm forcefully, dragging the kid out of your apartment before you’re brain could even register what was going on.

Yoongi doesn’t think twice about clearing things up. There’s nothing to clear up, it was obvious you had eyes for Taehyung, and you were this creepy woman taking advantage of a little boy who’s mother you resembled so uncannily.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asks the moment Yoongi slams the door.

“Tae, that lady is not your mother.”

“I know,” He answers matter-of-factly. “But she’s nice and she takes care of me, and I really like her.” His bottom lip quivers as he looks at Yoongi with puppy-eyes, wondering why his father was so angry.

It’s not surprising that Taehyung doesn’t remember his real mother. Yoongi doesn't even know if the boy is even aware of what a mother is, what a mother should do, or even what a mother even represents because he’s never been brave enough to address the events that happened when his son was barely old enough to talk. He was convinced that it would go unnoticed; that Taehyung wouldn’t think his small family of two was strange or different from the societal norm. How fucking stupid for him to think that. Like the boy wouldn’t grow up to notice everyone else had two parents when he was only left with one, or he wouldn’t wonder why other children would call one of their parents “mommy” and the other one “daddy”. Or why Yoongi couldn’t look him in the eyes and tell him how he came into this world. 

He’s a fool to think everything would just magically go away, and he would never have to face his problems head on. 

…

 Past

“You supported my dreams back then! What? Have you changed your mind because I’m not as successful as you had hoped???” Yoongi accuses, trying to keep his voice low so he wouldn’t wake up the baby sleeping in the next room. He was angry with himself more than anything, but Chaewon’s words had hit his most vulnerable spots for weeks now and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“That’s when I thought you were actually going to do something with your life!”

“I am” Yoongi cries, desperately trying to stop this from turning into another full blown argument.

But Chaewon’s harsh words don’t impede. “My parents kicked me out of the house, and now you can’t even keep a roof over my head! How do you expect me to live the rest of my life like this?!”

“Chaewon” Yoongi begs, gripping onto her arm as if she was his lifeline. “I’m trying, I really am… please…” Yoongi is about to get down on his knees because he can’t let her throw him away like a piece of trash. She was the only person he had, and the past few months have been hell with him being stuck in the longest artistic slump he’s ever hit and Chaewon attempting to get any part-time job she can while still taking care of the baby after her long shifts. Yoongi knows it’s all his fault, and he knows Kim Chaewon deserves a better life, and that he has no one to blame but himself for dragging the love of his life down into this misfortunate hellhole with him because he was selfish and didn’t want to let her go.

“I was an idiot to believe an loser like you.” 

And then she’s gone, leaving Yoongi in a place darker than hell.

 …

 Present

Yoongi doesn’t know why he’s standing outside your door, hesitating to knock and mulling over whether or not he should just run back to the elevator and pretend you never existed and hope that Taehyung forgets about you too, but his conscience is eating him alive, and his son obviously won’t let it go.

“Why can’t I go over to Y/N’s house?”

“Why can’t I play with Jimin anymore?”

“Why are you sad?”

It took him two days to weigh out his options, finally deciding that apologizing to you was easier than having to make up stupid answers for that endless string of questions that keep pouring out of Taehyung’s mouth like a faucet he can’t turn off and then constantly justifying them to not only the toddler but also to himself.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, pinches his nose bridge and lifts a finger to ring the doorbell.

“Y-Yoongi?”

“Y/N, uh, hi, ummm, so about those things I said the other day...” Yoongi takes another deep breath as you stare at him, waiting for him to finish. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“It’s ok” You gently reply. “I’d react the same way if my kid did that.”

Yoongi finally has the guts to lift his eyes to trace over your calm features, and he feels like he’s foreign territory because for the first time he sees you for you and not someone else. “Do you mind if I come in?” What the hell was he saying? It’s like someone else was controlling his mouth.

“Of course.” You open the door wider, moving out of the way so the weary looking male can enter.

“She left us.” Yoongi says as you offer him a cup of freshly brewed tea. He doesn’t know why he’s being so open to you. He’s barely ever even been honest to himself, but he’s starting to convince himself that he’s willing to try sorting out a past he can’t hide from any longer because sooner or later, it’s bound to come back with a vengeance. “It was my fault for not providing her the life she deserved.”

“Min Taehyung’s mother?”

“Kim” Yoongi swallows. “Kim Taehyung.”

And maybe it’s also because you mysteriously make his exhausted heart feel like it had found light once again, beating with a kind of fervor that he was convinced had left forever.

“I can tell you loved her very much.” You whisper.

“With all my heart.”

“I’m sorry.” The words sound generic, and you honestly don’t know what else to say. You didn’t have all the details and you barely knew the man, but the shadow covering his eyes is something you desperately want to help him get rid of, and even if you can’t, you at least want to try.

 …

 When Yoongi’s first song for Beyond the Scene is finished and their album is finally released, BigHit decides to hold a showcase to promote their new concept, which also happens to be their transition into the next era.

“You got me tickets!?” You exclaim, eyes glittering at the yellow slip pinched between Yoongi’s fingers.

“You said you were a fan.” He shrugs.

You wrap your arms around him before your rational mind can weigh out the effects of such an action. You were clearly too excited to thank him in any other way, and you didn’t think he was the kind to oppose physical contact, that is, until you feel his body tense under your embrace. He doesn’t reciprocate the action and you suspect you’ve taken it too far too soon.

You slowly start unravel your arms. “S-sorry” But before you can take a step back; Yoongi grabs your arm and pulls you back into a tight hug.

“Why?” He smiles, patting you on the back and making you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He even starts inviting you over for dinner on nights he was motivated enough to cook a special meal for Taehyung, claiming to “not want to have to deal with too many leftovers”. But you kind of knew he purposefully prepared a meal for three, because he always made three of everything, no more, no less.

“So who’s your favorite member?” He asks, picking up a piece of beef and putting it into Taehyung’s steaming rice bowl.

“Of Beyond the Scene?” Hm...” You ponder over the difficult answer. “I know there are only four of them, but this is the hardest question I’ve ever been asked.”

Yoongi chuckles. “They're not even similar. Why is it so hard?”

“Well, they’re all super talented and good looking!” You defend. “And each of them adds something new to the table.”

“True” He nods. “But if you knew what they were really like…”

“I know they’re complete dorks.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about the million videos they’ve put up online of them doing nothing but messing around. Sometimes I question why they have so many fans.”

“It’s partially because of their music, and the fact that they’re so real.” You explain. “But back to your question, I think my bias has to be Hoseok. He’s literally a ball of sunshine. Or maybe Namjoon because he’s so smart.”

“Hoseok and Namjoon?” Yoongi cocks a brow. “I would’ve taken you to be more of a Seokjin fan.”

“Why’s that?” 

“His face is attractive?” Yoongi makes an I-don’t-know gesture.

You shake your head. “Who’s your favorite then?”

“Jungkook” Yoongi replies. “I didn’t like him at first, but I’ve grown used to his playful antics.”

“That youngest? You clearly have a soft spot for the young ones.” You laugh, peering over at Taehyung who had no idea what you guys were talking about.

 …

 On the day of the showcase, you’re more anxious than you’ve ever been. Out of all the years you been a fan, you never imagined you would one day come across the opportunity to see your favorite idols live. It was the most amazing feeling ever, and it was all thanks to Min Yoongi.

The songs they performed were amazing, and although it was different from their usual sound, you could somehow tell Yoongi was the mastermind behind all of the pieces. There was just something about the emotions conveyed by the beat and lyrics that spoke to you on a deeper level than any of their previous songs. Maybe it was because you had caught a glimpse of the man behind the music on a personal level beforehand or maybe he was just a skilled enough artist to create such beautiful tunes.

“Daddy, I need to pee” Taehyung whines as the third song ends and the members had stopped to introduce themselves one by one.

“Ok, we’ll find you a bathroom.” Yoongi responds. He turns to you. “I’ll be right back. 

You nod, eyes still fixed on the four idols on stage.

The quiet that hits Yoongi is a striking contrast to the raucous arena, as the large doors slam shut. He’s casually looking around to find a bathroom when his gaze lands on someone that makes his heart skip several beats. This can’t be real.

And Yoongi thinks it might be his imagination because there’s no way Kim Chaewon was standing ten feet in front of him just as he exits the auditorium with Taehyung following closely behind. His body freezes up, and his throat is constricting to the point where he can’t tell if he’s still breathing.

“Yoongi”

The voice is just as familiar as it sounded two years ago.

“Chaewon?”

“Congratulations on all of this” She gestures at the crowd of screaming fangirls and flashing stage lights across the heavy metal doors.  

“H-How did you…? W-Why…?” He can’t even form a coherent question because his brain had stopped functioning normally.

“I can recognize your music from anywhere.” She says, flashing Yoongi a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Yoongi can feel Taehyung’s grip on the hem of his pant leg as he hides behind his father, looking at the women curiously. “I don’t doubt that, but…”

“Is that…?” She ignores his state of shock and bends over to wave at Taehyung. “Tae!” She beams.  

“H-Hi” The little boy responds shyly, clearly not recognizing the women the way she expected him to.

“He’s grown up so well” She sighs, straightening up once again. “If you’re not busy, would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me? So we can, I don’t know, chat?”

Yoongi hesitates. He wants to reject her offer because he knows you’re still waiting for him in the crowd, but he can’t get himself to say no, not when he clearly still has feelings for the woman who left him years ago and is now suddenly back within reach.

 …

 “She came back.” Yoongi says. “I’m sorry I left without telling you.”

“Oh, Chaewon, right?” You swallow, trying not to make things awkward between the two of you. “It’s totally fine. She must’ve been really happy to see you and Tae.”

Yoongi nods, eyes still trained at the ground. He was standing outside your doorway late at night, wanting to make sure you got home safely after he had left the showcase so unexpectedly.

“Hey, no hard feelings.” You console him, despite your own voice cracking ever so slightly. You had waited for him for hours after the showcase, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You didn’t wait for me for too long did you?”

4 hours.

“No, of course not.” You pretend to make it sound absurd, shaking your head and waving it off like it was no big deal. “I figured something must have come up.”

Yoongi nods.

“So umm, good-night?” You speak after a long drawn out silence.

“Yeah. Good-night.”

 …

 Yoongi can’t fall asleep that night, and it’s not because he’s thinking about Kim Chaewon coming back into his life and throwing him in complicated shit again, surprisingly, he’s more concerned about you and what you are to him, because he already knows what Chaewon is, more or less. But you on the other hand, you were still shrouded in a misty veil, one created by life’s endless intersections and obstacles. And the universe wasn’t going to give him a break anytime soon, but maybe that’s exactly what he needed to find the right path.

His thoughts flash back to what Chaewon had said to him at the coffee shop.

“We do stupid things when we’re young, but that doesn’t mean what we had wasn’t love.” 

Yoongi stares off into the distance, not knowing why her words were not affecting him the way he expected them to.

“Keyword, had”

“Yoongi, I made a mistake. I still have feelings for you, and I know you do too because otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He nods slowly, absorbing the honeyed words that were seeping out of the woman’s mouth, and making him really consider the exact thing she was saying.

It was nothing short of the truth, he loved Kim Chaewon and undoubtedly still does. But he has always loved her because he thought she loved him for him, plain and unadorned, when in reality, she was always more in love with his music than anything. And don’t get him wrong, he knows that anyone who has the capacity to love and appreciate his music has to have that special connection with his innermost self, but that holds true for any fan and the musician they look up to. And it took the event of her coming back after he had finally found success to make him realize she was only a crossroad and not the moon itself. Because what happens when Yoongi stops composing one day, what will transpire when he’s too old to produce songs and create the art that she loved him for, will she leave again?

 Yoongi’s not about to find out.

 …

 You don’t see Yoongi for a couple of days, and you knew exactly why. It didn’t make you feel any better knowing the reason, but there was that annoying nagging feeling tugging at your heart that you’ve convinced yourself isn’t categorized as jealously, disappointment, or longing. Stop being absurd.

Yoongi is not yours, he never was and never will be. Was it really that hard to accept the fact that he couldn’t fall in love with you when he was still in love with another woman? Yes. No. Does it make it any more justifiable that he maybe would’ve given you a chance had that woman no returned? Yes. No.

“Wake up, Y/N.” You mutter to yourself as you take the elevator down to grab a package that had arrived.

“Looks like I beat you to the chase.” The familiar voice startles you, almost causing you to drop the house keys your were twirling in your fingers.

“Oh, Yoongi” You gasp, clutching your chest like he almost gave you a heart attack.

“I was just about to look for you.” He bites his lower lip, preparing to say something he’s been running through in his head for the past few days.

“Is something wrong?”

“Life is full of crossroads...” Yoongi swallows, wanting to make this whole speech poetic, but he’s too nervous to function for reasons he’s fully aware of but does not have control over. He hasn’t confessed to anyone in a long time, and even then, he’s only every done it once in his life, to that other woman he’s slowly started to place in another section of his heart to make room center stage for you. “Ah, fuck it.” He mutters. “I’ve made mistakes in the past because I used to be the kind of person to be consumed by people the same way I’m consumed by my passions. I tend to place people on the wrong pedestal, and I have a hard time letting go of first loves. But if you are willing, I want to try for us, because I think I’ve finally found the moon after passing many crossroads.”

There’s a long pause because your mind is blank and your heart is racing. You continue to stare at the man standing awkwardly in front of you, gripping onto the box that had just been delivered as if he was the mail carrier, and you don’t think anything can be more endearing than this.

“But umm, if you’re not down, it’s totally ok too. I know this is strange and sudden, and I’m totally just freaking you out right now because. Aw, fuck.” Yoongi’s eyes squeeze close and he tilts his head up. 

Scratch that. Said man all choked up as he’s trying to confess despite his debilitating nerves is something even more endearing.

“I’m totally down.” You respond, trying to hold in a laugh as you take the box away from him. “So I’m your moon? Is this going to be Beyond the Scene’s next album concept? Or did you just run out of real ideas.” You playfully nudge him in the arm.

Yoongi smiles, gummy and jubilant, and the universe shimmering within his eyes at that moment is, without a doubt, even more breathtaking than his music.

...

[jordan202]

My Boys Drabbles - Thomas (Part One)

Hi Guys!

After such a long hiatus, My Boys is back! And this time around, we are going to explore the only pregnancy I haven't fully written about. Thank you @jia911 for proofreading this so fast!

The Prompt: 

@cizavilation I think was the one who asked me to write about Thomas’s pregnancy.

Timeline:

This one sets just one or two days after The Return (the story when Cristina is back in Seattle). 

My Boys Drabbles – Thomas (Part One) 

Amelia let out a sigh of frustration, watching as a strand of hair was blown from her nose.

She was bored.

It was no secret she considered that mandatory hospital meeting a complete waste of time and judging by the yawns and amount of empty coffee cups around the big round table, her colleagues felt the exact same way.

One by one, Amelia examined the facial expressions of the other heads of department. Alex Karev seemed too entertained playing with a loose thread of his white coat sleeve. Meredith Grey repeatedly twisted the lid of her Starbucks drink, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but there. Jackson Avery was having a hard time keeping his neck straight and not falling asleep. Only Maggie seemed to be paying attention to the words of the seventy-something infectious diseases specialist who gave that exact same lecture on infection control and prevention every trimester at the hospital.

Amelia knew that every hospital had an ICC, or Infection Control Committee, a division that worked both preventing and helping treat hospital related infections. Every three months, the ICC of Greys Sloan mandated that all hospital workers attended lectures on continued education programs. But the heads of each department had to sit through an exhaustive meeting where data was shown and discussed.

Amelia knew that the ICC head treated all health care workers like they were potential threats. But she had a particular despise for surgeons, reason why whenever she hosted the meeting with the surgical department, they were to expect a lot of frowns and criticism.

“So we were able to isolate two different strand of coagulase-negative staphylococci in three of the orthopedic surgery patients who have…”

Amelia rolled her eyes, uninterested in the rest of the talk. She was just considering what she would have for lunch when, across the big table, her eyes met Owen’s.

He was looking at her with a discreet smile on his lips and Amelia instantly smiled back, identifying the loving eyes in his expression. She supposed Owen would shift his attention back to the lecturer after her response, but instead, he kept staring at her, making Amelia feel like he could see through her soul.

Containing a chuckle, she pointed to the ICC speaker with her eyes and then gently moved her head, as if telling Owen to focus his attention back on the woman.

But all her husband did was lean back on his chair and defiantly keep looking at her with his heavy gaze, maintaining a smile on the corner of his lips.

Amelia noticed the amusement in his eyes and couldn’t help feeling her heart flutter. Owen was so silly. Why did he have to look at her with that loving expression, especially in a room full of people? Her husband wasn’t saying a single word, but the message he was communicating was very clear.

It was obvious he was very happy and Amelia knew exactly why.

Taking her hand to her lower abdomen, the neurosurgeon grinned widely. Just two days before, she had informed Owen that she thought she was pregnant. On the following day, Amelia had taken a blood test to confirm it and found out her assumption had been right. She indeed was carrying another child.

It was a crazy notion to think about. They had a seven month old at home and Lucas was still very much dependent on them, Amelia especially. Just a couple of weeks before, Amelia had gone back to work and she knew her baby was really resenting the sudden change. Right now, he was upstairs in daycare and Amelia couldn’t wait for lunchtime to see him.

Some of the caretakers at day care advised parents not to go see the kids during their breaks because it made it harder on them to adapt. Amelia thought it that was complete bullshit. The more she saw Lucas, be it fifteen minutes or an hour, the better for them both. She had to work because it was her job and she loved it. But her baby would always come first and Amelia didn’t want to be one of those parents who only saw their kids briefly at night before putting them to bed.

Her gaze fell back on Owen and she realized he was still staring at her with that same expression on his face. She knew that by now, he was teasing her. But the silly look he had on added to the charming smile on his lips distracted Amelia enough that she forgot all about where she was and couldn’t help letting out a loud chuckle.

“Dr. Shepherd, is there something you want to add?”

Amelia immediately turned her head in the direction of the acid voice that had asked her the angry question.

The ICC senior attending stared at her with a demanding face and a scowl of disapproval. The neurosurgeon knew she should be embarrassed to get called out in the middle of a lecture like a high school kid, but she was so amused by Owen’s now mortified expression that she just couldn’t be bothered.

“No, not all.” Amelia replied with a shameless grin. “I was just making a mental note to stay away from the Ortho wing.” Her voice fooled her forced seriousness as she added. “Don’t wanna catch that strain of Staph.”

A general round of laughter followed and Amelia took her time to try and make eye contact again with her husband, unsuccessfully. The lecturer still seemed displeased, but she resumed her speech as soon as the general uproar died down. Judging by the way his ears had turned red, Owen was extremely embarrassed and Amelia easily guessed why. She had been the one busted but he had been the one pestering her.

It was no wonder why now he was extremely committed to paying attention to what the eldest woman had to say, apparently determined not to cause any more distractions in the meeting.

.

The clock had ticked five in the afternoon when Amelia finished her accumulated charts on that gray Monday. After a quick trip to daycare, the surgeon picked up Lucas and followed to the ER. She and Owen often drove to work together and she didn’t mind waiting a bit for him if he was busy. But it took Amelia quite a while to find her husband and when she did, he looked like something alarming was on his mind.

“Hey,” Amelia caught up with him in a meeting room. “Are you ready to go or do you need a few more minutes?” It was then Amelia noticed her husband wasn’t alone. Two women she recognized from hospital administration were with him, and so was Richard Webber. Sensing something wasn’t adding up, Amelia fired the next question before Owen could reply to her previous one. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Owen tried to sound assuring, getting up at the same time he gave her a smile and proceeded to kiss the top of Lucas’s head affectionately. “I think I’m going to be a while here, do you mind driving home with Luke today? I’ll be a little late.”

Amelia looked into his eyes, quickly catching up on the fact something was wrong but Owen couldn’t tell her about it now. The way he’d blocked her view from the other people in the room and suggestively made eye contact with her while saying she should go home were the cues Amelia needed to know that whatever her husband was up to, it sounded serious.

“I’ll see you later at home, then.” She discreetly nodded, letting him know she’d understood the non-verbal message.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Owen promised, giving her a kiss on the forehead before giving his attention back to the people inside the room.

Lucas fussed in her arms, trying to reach out to his dad, but Amelia left the room before her baby could interrupt the meeting. She had no idea what they’d been discussing there, but judging by the seriousness in her husband’s face and overall thick atmosphere she’d found the men in, the news wasn’t good.

It was past eight in the evening when Owen finally made it home. He unlocked the front door to find Amelia sitting on the couch with their son in her arms, happily talking to the baby while the TV was on in the background.

“Hey guys” Owen smiled widely but the look of exhaustion was clear on his face. Amelia watched as her husband came over and gave her a kiss on the lips before turning his eyes to their boy. “Hey little man… How are you doing?”

After seeing his dad, Lucas’s happy face transformed into a big grin. Owen leaned over and kissed the side of his neck, loving to feel his adorable baby smell. It was a comfort to be welcomed like that by his family after an exhausting day at work.

“And how is this little one?” Owen sat on the couch by Amelia’s side, lazily rubbing her lower stomach.

“It’s too early for me to feel anything.” Amelia confessed, delighted by Owen’s obvious expectations. “But we’re both good. What’s up with you?” She asked, showing her concern by gently striking the hair at his nape. “You don’t look well.”

Owen took a deep breath and slowly let it out, grabbing his wife’s hand affectionately before giving it a kiss.

“I am afraid I have some bad news…” Owen’s tone of voice was too serious for Amelia’s taste. “Bailey is on an extended medical leave.”

“Why?” Amelia expressed her concern through a heavy frown. “What’s wrong with her?”

Despite not being personally close to their chief of surgery, Amelia respected and admired the woman.

“She recently found out that she has a mass on her breast. Yesterday they confirmed it is malignant. She starts treatment this week.”

“Oh.” Amelia felt deeply sorry for the woman. The neurosurgeon knew how nasty cancer could be, so she hoped for the best for Bailey. A few seconds went by before Amelia remembered the scene she’d witnessed earlier that day. “Is that why the hospital administration was talking to you today?” She furrowed her brow questioningly. “Wait, they are not allowed to disclose this type of information.”

“They didn’t.” Owen clarified. “Bailey told me herself this morning. And then she warned me they’d come after me.”

“But why?” Amelia couldn’t make any sense of the situation.

“Because Bailey is stepping down for at least a couple of months so she can focus on her treatment,” Owen explained, trying to be reasonable. “And they’ve asked me to fill in for her in the meantime.”

“You mean take care of the paperwork in her absence?” Amelia attempted, seeing the look of guilt on her husband’s face.

“No.” Owen said with serenity. “I am saying they actually want me to be chief again.”

The trauma surgeon had no idea how his wife would react to that, but he expected some sort of heated response.

Instead, silence was all he got.

“Amelia?” Owen tried to reason with her. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Did you take it?” She raised an eyebrow, sounding alarmingly suspicious. “The offer? Did you take it?”

“No.” Owen carefully answered, knowing he was going into dangerous territory. “I was going to talk to you first before considering it. Why are you mad?”

“I am not mad.”

“Well, you sound mad.” Owen refuted her, trying to be as gentle as possible with his choice of words.

Lucas chose that exact moment to play with his spit and reached out to grab Owen’s face with a happy giggle.

“I am not.” Amelia replied with a tone that pointed otherwise. She wasn’t actually sure what she was feeling at that moment. “I’m just… I don’t know. Are you going to take it?” Her voice went from defensive to insecure.

Owen took a deep breath and confessed:

“I don’t know… I mean, I have to be honest and say that despite the annoying bureaucratic part, I did like being chief once.” He cleaned up Lucas’s continuous spit bubbles from the baby’s now wet face. “I guess I just always thought that part of my life was over.” The trauma surgeon explained sincerely. “And at the same time I know this is awful timing, with us just adapting to having a baby and getting ready for a second but I also feel like I should be a team player and help our friends in a time of need. And besides, it’s temporary.”

“But you’re not the only one qualified for the job.” Amelia added, trying to figure out her own feelings. She supposed she didn’t want Owen gone for any time longer. They already worked busy hours. Being chief meant adding more to his workload. Not only would she miss him at home, but there was also Lucas to think about. As if being a parent wasn’t new and scary enough, very soon they’d have a second child and Amelia was terrified of not being able to handle everything. “I mean, why can’t Webber do it? If it’s only temporary.”

“Webber is in over his head with his colorectal fistulae trial.” Owen explained, knowing his wife was aware of what he was talking about. “The board was considering Jackson but he is too naïve and inexperienced to fill in for three without any prior training. I am the only one who knows the job and can perform it with such short notice.”

Amelia let out a heavy sigh. Logically, it made sense that Owen accepted the offer.

“But what would that mean for us?” She asked, hating to feel like she was being selfish.

“That’s exactly my problem with it.” Owen explained with honesty. He already worked long hours and wanted to enjoy the free time he had in company of his family. Every minute he missed with them was a minute he was never getting back and at this point the trauma surgeon already knew too well what his priorities in life were. “I know I’ll be working more hours but I told them the condition to accept this offer is to cut back my ER hours and focus mostly on the bureaucracy.”

“But that’s the part you like the least.” Amelia pointed out. “That arrangement would mean you’d barely operate at all.”

Owen shrugged, conformed.

“It doesn’t matter.” He smiled shyly. “This is the way I won't let down the people who need me both at work and at home. It’s just for a couple of months” Owen smiled, leaning a little closer to nudge his nose to his wife’s face. “And just for your information, I’d much rather be here with you guys than anywhere else.”

Amelia pretended not to be convinced but his charming charisma eventually won her over.

“Alright, fine!” She laughed when Lucas touched the side of her face with his lips on a messy kiss, prompting Owen to do the same on the other side. “Alright, alright, I am convinced…” Her giggles echoed louder in the living room, mixing with Lucas’. “Just promise me we’ll still see you.” Amelia instinctively took her hand to her belly.

“You will always come first.” Owen affirmed with security, giving Amelia one quick kiss before focusing his attention back on their son.

Twenty minutes later, Amelia noticed as Lucas started to get cranky and decided to go put him down while Owen went for a shower. The trauma surgeon also went for a quick meal before heading back to his bedroom, but to his surprise, he found Amelia in their bed with Lucas in it.

“I thought he was tired.” He raised one eyebrow questioningly, well aware of how hard it was for Amelia to let go of their son. He couldn’t blame her, though.

“He is, but he is also hungry.” Amelia justified still having Lucas on their bed.

Owen looked at their healthy seven-month old. Lucas was a big, fairly large baby. His indecently delicious chunky ankles proved to be almost irresistible and the way his blue eyes seemed to stand out on his round face was too much for both parents to bear. Owen had always wanted to be a father, but he had no idea how delightful it really was to get home after a heavy day at work and hear the sound of his baby’s laughter, or to see him throw himself in his dad’s arms, absolutely happy for nothing other than Owen’s presence.

“He is always hungry.” Owen pointed out, getting beneath the covers next to Amelia. He watched as Lucas didn’t let go of his mother’s breast while deeply staring at her the entire time he fed. “I think he is in love with you.” The trauma surgeon pointed out with a chuckle.

“Well, I am in love with him,” Amelia replied, wrapping her arms tighter around her baby. He was the most gorgeous baby in the entire planet and she was absolutely sure of it.

It didn’t take Lucas more than a few minutes after that to fall asleep. Much to her dismay, Amelia let Owen take him to his cradler in the room opposite to them. She had just finished setting up the baby monitor when her husband returned to their bedroom, startling her by unceremoniously pulling her and lying on her top in bed.

“You smell like rash cream.” Owen laughed, on purpose sniffing her hair.

“Someone had to do the dirty work.” Amelia teased.

“No one is complaining…” He smiled, leaning over to steal a kiss. “That being said… I think we’ve made it to the most important question of the night.” He held the suspense, being cute on purpose. “What are we doing for Valentine’s day?”

Amelia was absolutely surprised by the question and realized she had completely forgotten about the date. It seemed like for the past seven months (and even prior to that), she and Owen had been mostly devoted to Lucas. So much that they had spent less and less time alone together. But since their baby was already eating solids and tolerating more hours in the absence of his mother, it was reasonably fair that they asked either Evelyn or Maggie to watch him for a couple of hours just so they could sneak out of the house for a little bit and have some time to be together.

“You want to go out to that little restaurant down the street?” Amelia asked with excitement in her eyes. She and Owen used to go there quite often and they were already familiar with the couple’s personal preferences.

“I guess it makes sense, being so close to home. We won’t waste any time in traffic or anything.” Owen agreed, already looking forward to it.

“I think I am going to order the crab cakes and…”

“You always want the crab cakes.” Owen rolled his eyes playfully, pointing out he wasn’t surprised.

“That’s because they are the most delici-”

Amelia’s sentence was interrupted when her husband stole a kiss.

“You don’t want to talk about the appetizers?” She teased him, biting her lower lip while Owen gently slid a hand on the curve of her thigh, sneakily exploring.

“Not really,” he whispered against her ear before giving Amelia a kiss that would make her forget all about the restaurant menu. “I’d much rather just skip straight to dessert.”

.

Two days later, Amelia was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. After a long day at work, her entire body ached.

“I think my head is going to explode.” She told Owen as he got dressed after showering. “Now I know how Luke was feeling earlier this week.” Just days before, Lucas had come down with a nasty cold he’d caught at daycare. Apparently, Amelia had caught it too. “I can’t believe I am sick. Today of all days.” She complained.

“You don’t look too good.” Owen stopped putting on his shirt and studied Amelia’s expression a little closer. He’d spent the entire day at the hospital catching up with his new position duties, but when he’d left home that morning, Amelia didn’t have the dark circles around her eyes like she did now.

“Why, thank you.” His wife replied sarcastically, unsuccessfully trying to tie the strap of her high heel shoe.

“I mean it.” Owen ignored her willfulness. “Are you sure you’re okay to go out?”

Amelia let out a heavy sigh. For the past months, she had barely seen her husband and even at times when they could be together, she had had a hard time letting go of Lucas because being away from him devastated her. As expected, Owen had been nothing but understanding and hadn’t once complained or demanded more attention. But deep down, she knew he’d been craving for this night when, for at least a couple of hours, they would be able to have a conversation that didn’t involve diapers or spit bubbles. For the first time in a while, Amelia felt fairly comfortable to leave her child at home with his grandmother because the plan was perfect. They would be just a few blocks away, so in case of any eventuality, she could quickly make it back home.

But right now, her head felt like it would burst at any second, her throat was dry and sore and she was having a hard time gathering enough energy to even tie a shoelace.

“I am so sorry…”

Owen’s confusion was clear on his face when he heard Amelia’s sobs.

“Amelia?” He gave up buttoning his shirt and went to sit by her side on the bed, watching with shock as a couple of tears fell from her eyes. “Babe, are you okay?”

“I don’t think I can make it tonight.” Amelia said apologetically, sustaining his look with her bright blue eyes drowning in tears. Owen didn’t have enough time to process that before she buried her face on his neck. “I am sorry…”

He chuckled and surrounded her waist with his arms, pulling her closer. During Lucas’ pregnancy, Amelia had also been emotionally messy. Owen supposed it was the hormones that got the best of her.

“Hey, don’t worry, okay?” The trauma surgeon ran his hand on her back up and down, gently trying to soothe her. “It’s not your fault.”

Her voice sounded muffled against his shirt.

“Of course it is… I know how much you were counting on this and now…” Amelia sniffed, trying to pull herself back together. “It’s my fault that we’re not going on a date.”

“Well, I never wanted to go out on a date.” Owen said convincingly. Amelia was obviously surprised, because she lifted her head and looked into his eyes with a lot of questions on her face. “I wanted to be with you.” He stated, knowing that deep down it was true. Owen had indeed been looking forward to go out with her, but it was okay that they couldn’t go that night. They could do it the following week, or whenever they wanted. All he’d strived for was being with Amelia, and if that meant being at home, so be it. “I’ll tell you what,” Owen smiled, trying to cheer up his wife. “You can’t go on the date, but the date can come to you.”

“Owen, what the…?” Amelia frowned, watching as he got up and picked up one of his coats.

“You stay here and take some aspirin.” He instructed, picking up Lucas from the floor mat and then the baby’s coat and car keys. “We are the men of the house.” Owen said with a smile, giving Lucas a kiss on the cheek before looking back at his wife with his son in his arms. “We’re on it.”

Amelia gave up the dress and the fancy shoes as she spent the next forty minutes emptying a box of Kleenex as her runny nose wouldn’t give her a break. She had just felt the relief of being pain free after the aspirin kicked in when the sound of Owen’s car caught her attention.

To her absolute delight, her husband walked into the house carrying two large bags with take out food from their favorite restaurant. Somewhere along the way, he had called his mother to let her know they weren’t going out to dinner anymore.

“The crab cakes!” Amelia celebrated, picking up the box containing them. She had to dodge Lucas’ attempt to get his hand on the food before looking up at Owen with dreamy eyes. “You remembered!”

Owen smiled, glad to see she seemed a lot happier than before.

“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” Amelia asked playfully, trying to juggle eating her food and containing Lucas on her lap at the same time.

“I surely hope so.” Owen replied, absolutely relaxed.

He and Amelia were sitting on the floor of their living room with several boxes opened on their coffee table. Lucas repeatedly tried to make moves for the food, even though he had just been fed, entertaining both his parents with his excessive gluttony.

“Do you think the new baby will be like him?” Owen asked, ruffling Lucas’ hair and being rewarded with a wide, toothless smile.

“I hope he or she is more like me.” Amelia chided. Lucas was physically similar to Owen. Only his eyes were like hers. It was only fair the new baby had some of her traits.

“Not gonna happen.” Owen teased her. In reality, he didn’t mind one bit if their next child took after Amelia.

“We’ll see about that.” Amelia replied challengingly. “And don’t say what you’re about to say. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

“What?” Owen asked, genuinely confused.

“You think that just because you’re the boss now you can get away with things, but it’s not happening.” Amelia gave him her best devilish smile.

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Well, I was.”

Owen noticed the spark in her eyes at that moment but soon enough, his son’s happy giggles distracted him and thoughts about work quickly vanished his mind.

That valentine’s date in trio wasn’t exactly what they initially had in mind, but he had enjoyed it so much that he felt happier than he’d felt all day. He wouldn’t mind repeating it year after year. Owen hadn’t expected that they would have another baby so soon but now that he knew for sure his wife was pregnant, he was completely enjoying the idea.

And as he went to bed that night, Owen slept peacefully, without the faintest idea of just how much trouble his wife would cause, turning both his personal and professional lives completely upside down.

--

So Owen is the new chief and Amelia is his pestering pregnant wife. How is that going to work out? :)

[injusticeff]

Chapter One

Dom

Driving on the way to pick up my son from daycare, I looked over at Simone who was now sitting in the passenger seat doing her makeup so she could see Junior. "Yo, you missed a spot." I said pointing underneath her eye which was still a faint purple under the makeup she put over it.

“I know. I can't seem to cover it fully. I guess I'll just have to wear shades.” She said, digging through the things in the middle console to find the sunglasses.

Noticing that she had stopped in her tracks, I looked over at her and was about to speak before I saw what was in her hand. “Wh--” She cleared her throat. "What are these for?" I didn't really know how to respond so I just decided to play dumb.

"What do you mean what are those for?" I looked back over at the road to avoid any type of eye contact.

"I mean what the fuck are these for? We haven't used condoms since the first year we got together and you made me get on birth control after I had Junior. There's only one condom left in this damn box, stop fucking lying to me!" She yelled out, throwing the box at my temple causing me to clench my jaw.

It took everything in me not to throw her ass up and out my car. I don't know what the fuck she thought this was but disrespect is one thing I won't tolerate. "Watch when we get home." Her facial expression immediately turned from stern to timid and frightened causing me to chuckle at her outburst of toughness. She was still the same old Simone. She always will be.

Sitting back in her seat, she continued to stay silent for the entire ride before putting on the shades once we reached the daycare. I turned off the car and turned to her.

"Stay here. I wanna surprise him. He's been askin' bout you nonstop every time I pick him up so..." I trailed off, shrugging before hopping out of the car and walking into the building. 

I signed some papers and Junior was running into my arms in no time. “Wassup lil man? How was daycare?” I asked, sitting him on my side as one of the ladies handed me his bag before pulling out his animal crackers and handing some to him, beginning my trek back out of the establishment.

“Good. I learned my 123s.” He responded causing me to smile and raise an eyebrow, telling him to recite them for me. “One... two... thwee... four... five... um...” Scratching his head, he began to think. “Eight.”

I chuckled and gave him a high five before helping him out. “Six.” I corrected him as he repeated me. “Seven. Then eight. Good job buddy.”

Once we reached the car, I put him down and opened up the passenger side door revealing Simone who was smiling from ear to ear already. “MOMMYYYY!” He squealed, dashing into her arms causing her to embrace him tightly before planting kisses all over his face as he giggled. I smiled at the both of them and threw his bag in the back, jogging over to the driver’s side and hopping in.

He was already saying his “123s” for her by the time I got back in the car causing me to chuckle because he said them all correctly this time. All the way to ten.

“Good job baby, you’re so smart.” She said as he nodded.

I began to drive off in the direction of the house. “What do you say when somebody says something nice?” I slightly scolded him as he looked at me then back at Simone with a grin. “Thank you mommy.”

“You’re welcome baby, mommy missed you so much.” She began to send multiple kisses to his cheeks as he tried to do the same to her, making her laugh in response. He held one of his animal crackers to her mouth. One thing about Junior is that he was always sharing even though he was an only child. He was never stingy with his things, everyone loved him.

She took a bite of it so he wouldn’t feel bad before he gobbled down the rest of it. “Mommy, can I sweep with you tonight?” He asked. Simone immediately turned to me with pleading eyes causing him to do the same. I can’t tell the both of them no when they’re looking at me like that. They look like two adorable ass twins.

“I’ll get the movies and snacks ready for this lil sleepover.” They both started to smile and cheer happily before I even got to finish the sentence. It was heartwarming to see the two of them together. They were like two peas in a pod.

Mainly because she can never tell him no. He could get away with anything when she’s watching him and she just thinks it’s adorable. I like their relationship, it reminded me of how we used to be when we first got together. We stayed glued to each other 24/7. That’s how she got pregnant in the first place.

But I fucked up. Badly. I almost lost her but for the sake of Junior, she stayed with me. Shit was never the same after that though, I could tell by how she looked at me and acted around me.

***Flashback***

“Girl, you know I'm not worried bout none of that shit. You knew what it was when we started fuckin with each other. You butt ass naked in my bed, what you trippin for? You had no problem swallowing my kids ten minutes ago.”

She sighed and ran her hands over her face as she sat up in the bed. “Dom, I just don't know about all of this.” She paused for a moment then looked at me. “I thought you were breaking up with her, what happened to that?” Folding her arms over her chest, she glared at me causing me to kiss my teeth.

“I told you that? You know damn well she not going anywhere with my seed inside her.” I gave her an annoyed look causing her to roll her eyes.

“When is she due?”

She laid back down on top of me and began to massage my scalp with her fingertips. “In June I think.”

“Wow, in a few more months you’re gonna have a mini you running around here. How do you feel about that?”

Shrugging in response, a small grin started to creep its way onto my face. “Now that you put it like that, it’s actually gonna be hella lit. Mini me.” She looked up at me, mirroring the same smile I had on my face before sitting up and straddling me.

“Come on, let’s go take a shower.” She said, getting up and holding her hand out for me to take. I nonchalantly grabbed it before following her into the bathroom as she began to get the water ready.

“Not too hot. A nigga wanna still have skin left when he get outta here.” I said causing her to laugh but I was dead ass. She always got a nigga burning up in the shower. I don’t know how she does it.

Turning on the shower, we didn’t have to strip since we were already naked so we just hopped in. “How’s the water daddy?” She asked me causing me to look down at her with a smirk. She knows how I get when she calls me that.

“Finally just the way I like it. Come here.” I pulled her towards me making her ass rub up against my dick as I cupped her breasts in my hands. I slowly started to lick and suck at her neck, leaving a dark hickey as the outcome. “That mean you mine.”

Biting her bottom lip, she turned around towards me and snaked her arms around my neck. “You already knew I was yours though. All of me.” She spoke with a smirk as she guided my hand down to cup her ass. I wasted no time in gripping it, feeling myself getting harder by the second.

One thing I liked about her was that she was always ready and down for some freaky shit. Anywhere and anytime.

After a quickie, we began to wash ourselves until the water got freezing cold and we had to hop out. My back was still covered in suds because I was not about to let that cold ass water freeze my butt cheeks.

She took my towel and started to use it to dry herself off causing me to kiss my teeth and hold my hand out. “Give it up.” Giggling, she shook her head no.

“For what? You looking good just the way you are. Dick slangin and everything.” She bit her lip, earning a chuckle from my end as I playfully snatched the towel back.

“Girl bye witcha nasty ass.” I laughed out causing her to do the same.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Hearing a voice that was neither mine nor Tiarra’s, I instantly snapped my head in the direction of the all too familiar voice. “So this the shit you be doing while I’m at work pregnant with YOUR fucking child? Are you serious?”

Honestly, I ain’t have shit to say at a time like this. I’ve never been caught.

“Oh so now you don’t have shit to say but you was just laughing it up with my fucking sister!”

My eyes close once I heard Tiarra start to respond, hoping and praying she didn’t say some out of line shit. “Simone, I--”

“NO! DON’T SAY SHIT TO ME! How could you even do some shit like this?! You’re supposed to be the one person I can trust but your hoe ass legs can’t keep themselves closed!” Simone yelled, beginning to storm away as I soon jogged after her before grabbing her arm causing her to snatch it away. “Don’t fucking touch me Dom, I swear to god. I’m done with both of you!”

***Flashback ends***

Sometimes I wonder how things would be now if that shit never happened but there ain’t nothing I can do now.

Tiarra still be trying to hit me up sometimes but I’m trying to respect Simone as much as possible even though Tee got some good shit between her legs. My favorite thing about her is her mouth game though. She’s sloppy as hell with it. It’s like she has the time of her life sucking my dick. What more can a nigga ask for?

I shook those thoughts out of my head before I fuck up and hit her up for the one time. It’s been a couple of years since we talked or even saw each other for that matter. I be seeing her on instagram though. She been glowing, she looks good.

Then again her whole family got some good ass genes. Just look at Simone gorgeous ass.

Tiarra’s great in bed and fun to chill with but Simone’s definitely the one that’s wifey material. I’ve told Tee that. She didn’t like it but shit, I’m not finna lie. It is what it is. You either got it or you don’t.

“Daddy, can I get some donut?” Junior asked, thankfully breaking me out of my thoughts causing me to look over at the both of them while simultaneously trying to keep my eyes on the road.

“How you gon skip straight to dessert without dinner? Where we do that at?”

He slightly frowned then looked up at Simone with his world famous puppy dog eyes. “Mommy?”

“Anything for you my sweet baby.” She said, giving him an eskimo kiss causing him to bust out in giggles. I rolled my eyes and chuckled at the both of them, shaking my head. I couldn’t even be mad because it was too cute.

Once we made it home, I swear those two couldn’t be separated for nothing. I tried. He wouldn’t even come get this donut without walking hand in hand with Sim. They are seriously something else.

We all chilled for a while and ate a little bit. By the time we got to the movie, Junior was getting sleepy and I could tell Simone was too because she was yawning a lot.

“If you tired, go to sleep baby.” I told her as she shook her head no in response.

“He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. I just want to watch him a little bit more to make sure he’s ok.” Running her hands gently through his hair, she smiled down at him as his light snores filled the silence. She leaned down and planted a light kiss on his forehead before laying her head down next to him as his body snuggled up next to her.

It was only a matter of time before she was out too so I just took that as my cue to go to sleep even though I wasn’t all that tired.

Before turning off the light, I snapped a picture of the both of them as they slept and posted it onto my snapchat with the caption “my two babies” before getting comfortable next to them and slowly drifting off into a deep slumber.

Xae

“Wassup mama? How you been?”

“I would be better if my son came to see me more often.” She retorted, raising her eyebrow at me causing me to chuckle and pull her into a tight hug. “I missed you too ma.” I said as I pulled away.

Making her way back around to the stove, she stirred up the gumbo that was simmering in the pot there causing a whiff of the food to smack me in the face.

“That smells soooo good, you know I gotta stay for dinner right?”

She shook her head. “Sure. Can’t even hit me up but wanna come and eat up all my food.” I laughed loudly because she was really still on this subject.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I’ve just been really busy lately. But ima take you out soon, we can go out to eat and go get your nails done. All that good stuff. I promise.”

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes and gave me a playful smile causing me to cheese back at her, showing her all my pearly whites.

I loved the relationship me and my momma had. I would do anything and more for this woman and she knows it. I just gotta make more time for her. I always be so busy doing other shit and I know she misses me because I be missing her too.

“Where’s that little girl you always bringing around here?”

I sighed and shook my head. “Momma, that’s my girlfriend and she’s been coming over here for two years, you know her name is Bree.” She waved me off and continued to stir the gumbo.

Ever since my mom caught me and Bree fucking in the kitchen one morning when I thought she was at work, she hasn’t liked her. We had spent the night because it was a long drive back home and it was already late so we decided to stay. My mom thought it was disrespectful but it’s not my fault we into that kinky shit.

Now whenever I bring Bree around, my mom acts cordial but Bree already knows she doesn’t like her so she tries to be extra nice but at the same time, keep her distance.

I don’t like it but it is what it is. She gotta get used to it because Bree ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Turning off the stove, she began to get bowls from the cabinet before scooping some rice into them and then pouring the gumbo rue on top. She sat the bowls down on the table in the dining room as I got some spoons for us to eat with.

I walked over to the fridge and opened it, immediately scrunching up my face. “What is this? Where the koolaid at?”

As she walked by, she playfully smacked me upside my head causing me to chuckle and shake my head before grabbing some apple juice out the fridge and getting some cups for us.

I knew I was gonna want more juice so I just brought the whole bottle to the table along with the cups and sat down beside my mom. She held her hand out and I already knew what she wanted to do.

Thankfully she let me say grace because honestly a nigga was starving and my momma takes three years and a day to pray.

As soon as I took the first bite, it reminded me of when she used to cook all the time when I was younger. I really missed her cooking for real. Bree can cook her ass off but baby girl can’t compare to the southern cooking my momma be throwing down on.

Not even gonna lie, I probably finished my food in three minutes and I was still hungry so I got seconds.

“Save some for a rainy day boy, you still got that endless pit of a stomach I see.” She teased causing me to playfully wave her off and dig into my second bowl. She knows damn well gumbo used to be my favorite thing she made. I’m probably gonna eat five bowls.

“You got enough gumbo in there to feel the neighborhood ma, you not gonna miss it.” I retorted, scarfing down some more of my food.

A couple bowls later, I was rubbing my stomach and feeling good. Her gumbo always sits so beautiful in my stomach.

“Can I take some home with me?” I asked her as she started to wash off our bowls. “And I could have done that for you momma, you ain’t have to wash my dishes.”

She nodded and turned off the water once she finished. “You can but leave me some for tomorrow and I don’t need food particles on my bowls. You know you half-ass when you wash dishes.”

I laughed and waved her off because she was right. I just be wanting to be done with the dishes already so I always just wiped and rinsed them off hella quick so I could be done in like two minutes.

“Wanna watch a movie?” I asked. She smiled at me and nodded before heading to the living room as I followed behind.

I should have known she was gonna put on Forrest Gump. I’m not even complaining because it’s a good ass movie but it’s hella long.

Checking the time, it was already eleven and I had a long drive back home. I ain’t want Bree to be worried about me or anything. My mom made me turn off my phone when she put on the movie and she ain’t even stay awake for the whole thing. She can’t hang at all.

She sitting here knocked out, snoring like she hasn’t slept in five years. I chuckled to myself before gently shaking her causing her to stir a bit in her sleep.

“Mom... wake up, I gotta head home and you should lock up and get to bed. I know you’re tired and I don’t want you aching in the morning.” She groggily opened her eyes and let out a groan before rubbing her eyes and standing to her feet.

Grabbing my food to take home and my keys, I started to make my way to the door as she followed behind me and opened it. I turned back around to face her before pulling her into a tight embrace and planting a kiss on her forehead. “I love you momma, I’m gonna come see you again soon.”

“Alright baby, I love you too. You be safe driving so late and watch out for cops. You know they like locking young black males up, don’t give them a reason.”

“I won’t. Make sure you lock up.” Pulling away from the hug, I began to make my way down the hallway once I heard the door shut and lock before heading to my car and turning my phone back on. I got a few messages and missed calls but those weren’t really all that important to me at the moment.

I called Bree to let her know that I was on the way home and I’ll be there in about forty five minutes, heading off in the direction of my house.

Today was a great ass day.

Simone

I hated the fact that I had to sleep in makeup just so Junior didn’t have to see how messed up I was. It was uncomfortable but it was worth it to me.

Fluttering my eyes open, I immediately started to panic once I realized Junior wasn't laying next to me anymore. I felt around the sheets as if they weren't flat on the bed then ran out of the room and into the living room where him and Dom were eating ice cream and watching Teletubbies. I sighed in relief causing both of them to look over at me.

Dom stood up and came over to me before grabbing my arm and guiding me into the room. I looked at him confused, wondering what I did wrong now.

"Look. I ain't mean to worry you but he was up hella early and I've never seen you sleep so peaceful so I got him to come and watch tv with me. It wasn't easy, I had to lure him in with the ice cream." He said causing me to laugh a bit as he continued. "Plus your makeup was starting to come off from sleeping on it and he was starting to ask questions..."

I got silent and began to play with my fingers a bit. "What did he say?"

"He was asking how more makeup got on you. I guess he thought the purple spot under your eye was eyeshadow or something."

I sighed, burying my face in my hands and shaking my head. That was the last thing I wanted him to see. I wish this would all end. Maybe if that night had never happened, I wouldn't be getting black eyes every other week.

***Flashback***

Looking over at the time, it read 3:54AM. It was now or never.

I glanced back at Dominick who was sleeping peaceful but silently, which meant I really had to watch my noise level because if I get caught, I don't know what to do.

I just can't stay in this relationship any longer. I tried for Junior but I can't do it anymore, it's not worth it. Dom can have him on the weekends or we can compromise but I don't feel the same anymore. Not after what I saw with him and my sister. Every time I think about it, I wanna vomit to this day.

And Dom just acts like it didn't even happen. Like shit was all normal. It has me questioning whether or not he even has real emotions.

Slowly scooting off of the bed, I kept my eyes on Dominick as I made my way over to my dresser to put on some sweatpants and a hoodie. I had already packed my bag and it was waiting for me in the closet down the hall where he wouldn’t bother to look.

I began to put on my clothes and grabbed some socks before slipping on my slides. Once I was dressed, I quietly stepped down the hall in the direction of the closet where my bag was. Junior had already been at my mom’s house where I was planning to call an uber to.

Grabbing my bag from the closet, I made sure I had my wallet and everything before closing the door and making my way to the front door. I unlocked it slowly so that it wouldn’t make that much noise and opened the door.

I immediately jumped once I felt the door slam back closed causing me to snap my neck in the direction of the hand that closed it.

“Where the hell you going Simone?”

“I-- uh,” I began to stutter, “No where. I was just--”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” His voice boomed throughout the room causing me to jump again, this time accidentally dropping my bag. “You ain’t tryna leave me, are you?” He asked in a more calm tone.

Sighing, I decided to just tell him the truth. “Dom, I can’t do this anymore. I don’t feel the same way about you that I used to and I can’t keep acting like I’m still so in love and that this is a happy relationship because it’s not. Everyday I think of how you and Tiarra betrayed me. And everyday I realize that I deserve better than you. Junior deserves better than you. You obviously didn’t care about neither one of us when you were sticking your dick in my sister and god knows who else. I’m done with y--”

All of a sudden, I felt a blow to my face causing my body to slam into the wall before it hit the ground. I held my jaw in disbelief.

No matter how much we argued, Dominick had never put his hands on me before. Before I knew it, blow after blow was being sent all over my body as I tried to block and cover myself as best I could.

“Stop! PLEASE!” I cried out as I felt blood trickle down my face. He stood up fully and sent a swift kick to my stomach causing me to gasp for air because it felt like it all had been knocked out of me.

My tears slightly burned the open wounds that were now on my face as they mixed in with the blood. Leaning down close to me, he grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back towards him.

“You not leaving me and you not taking my son. You hear me?” He spoke through clenched teeth as I nodded weakly before he threw my head back down on the ground and locked the door.

He picked my bag up followed by picking me up and carried me back to the room bridal style, sitting me in the bathtub then turning on the shower.

Walking away, he slammed the door shut causing me to sob to myself as the water consumed my body.

***Flashback ends***

Ever since that night, he’s had no problem with putting his hands on me. And ever since that night, I’ve never attempted to leave again no matter how bad I want to.

I’m scared.

I fear for me and my son’s life when I shouldn’t have to and that’s what makes everything so much worse. I haven’t seen my parents in months because I always have scars and bruises on my face. And just when I think Dom has maybe changed for the better, he proves to me that he hasn’t.

Everything in my life is just shitty right now. The only good thing I have right now is Junior and that’s why I’m so clingy and lenient towards him.

If I didn’t have him, I probably would have put myself six feet under already.

I go crazy locked up in the house all the time while Dom goes out and does who knows what with who knows who. I feel so disgusting every time he forces himself on me. 

There’s only two ways to get away from Dominick. Either he’s gonna be in a body bag... or I am.

Dom snapping in my face caused me to break out of my thoughts. “Aye Sim. You heard me? I’m bout to take him back to my mom’s house.”

“What? Why??” My heart instantly fell to the pit of my stomach.

“Because we got some talkin to do.” He replied simply, beginning to grab his keys and Junior’s bag.

By now, I had it. I was fed up. I didn’t even get to spend that much time with my baby and he’s already taking him away from me. Soon enough, he’s going to be calling Dom’s mother his mom. My heart would break. “YOU MEAN YOU GOT BEATING TO DO YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE?!?” I yelled out unwillingly, instantly widening my eyes once I realized that I had actually said that out loud.

He narrowed his eyes at me and began to put his stuff back down. “What chu just say?” Closing the door and locking it, he inched closer to me causing me to back up until I finally hit a wall with nowhere else to go.

“N-Nothing, I’m sorry--”

A hard slap was sent across my face. Usually I would fall to the ground but I felt like I had a burst of strength from the adrenaline that was already rushing through my body. My reflexes made me throw a blow back to his face, busting his lip in the process.

He held onto his lip but I knew I couldn’t stop there or I was done for. I continued to send punch after punch to his face and ribs, anywhere I could hit really.

All of a sudden, I felt a hard kick to my knee causing me to fall to the ground hard weeping in pain. I instantly balled up as I felt hits being thrown back at me anywhere they could land. He hit some of my already bruised areas making me scream as I tried to fight back the tears that were already pouring out.

I felt the hits let up for a split second before his feet replaced them as he started to kick and stomp on me while I continued to lay in a ball, trying to protect myself as best I could.

Blood was everywhere on my clothes by this point and it didn’t seem like he was ready to stop anytime soon.

Hearing light banging on the door, he stopped in his tracks causing me to weakly look at the door along with him. “Mommy? Daddy? Are you ok?” Dom looked at me with livid eyes and clenched teeth.

“This is your fuckin fault.” 

He stormed out of the room and quickly slammed it shut so Junior wouldn’t see what a bloody mess I was before I started to cry. Letting out an angry scream, I used the edge of the bed to help me get up as I limped to the closet to get a bag.

I was done with this. I can’t take it anymore.

Stuffing the bag with clothes and other necessities, I grabbed my phone and didn’t look back once I left. I was guessing Dom was now taking Junior to his mom’s house so this was my only opportunity.

I was leaving. And I was never coming back.

[st-crylo]

On the Road

AN: Hey guys! I know I’ve been like MIA for so long when it comes to writing, but after deciding to discontinue SWMA I actually found some inspiration for a different fic. I’m gonna be real and let you guys know that the official AU is not gonna be announced until about part 4 but I wanna see if you guys can guess so hmu. Anyways, in addition to this, I’m also working on another AU fic so that should be out around March. I’m trying to see where i can go with the story first before actually posting it. Thanks for being patient with me!

Warnings: Alcohol use, some minor swearing

Word Count: 4K

Summary: (Y/n) is a preschool teacher in the small town she grew up in, craving for a more interesting life. After her friends insist she join them on an outing to the city, (y/n) meets Kylo Ren, a mysterious man who she knows very little about. Despite a friend’s warning and many awkward encounters, (y/n) finds herself unbelievably intrigued by this man, and Kylo, though he would never admit it feels the same. However, Kylo knows something that (y/n) doesn’t. No matter how they go about the situation, something wrong is bound to happen.

Yawning, your eyes slowly opening to the morning sun that was rising over the tree line, you fidgeted around in your rather uncomfortable seat. The radio was playing softly, an old classic rock song helping to wake you from your not so peaceful slumber. With a stretch of your arms, you moved to sit up, readjusting the seat belt so that it didn’t choke you or make you any more uncomfortable than you already were. Rubbing your eyes, you noticed that you were in a completely unknown place to you, but that didn’t worry you. A yawn was heard trying to be stifled from beside you, and you turned over to look at the driver of the car.

Illuminated by the early morning sunrise was Kylo, whose eyes were focused on the road ahead almost with some kind of reckless ambition, despite his fatigue. His angular features shone to you as you stared at him, taking in every part of the face of the man you loved. His eyes seemed golden because of the sun, which made him seem all the more magnificent in your eyes. However, despite all his physical beauty, you couldn’t help but notice the bags under his eyes.

“We should stop. You need rest,” you said, lying your hand over his. For a second he tensed, but then relaxed the longer the two of you shared touch. Then, after some period of silence but for the soft radio, he shook his head.

“After a few exits we will. I just… don’t feel completely comfortable stopping right now. Please…just bear with me,” he said, completely resigned. You nodded, rubbing your thumb comfortingly over the top of his hand before staring back at the road. The endless trees rushed past you in a dark green blur, the light of the early summer morning beginning to shine brighter. The straight highway littered with only a handful of cars this early in the morning put you in a trance. You thought about everything, from the unknown destination of which the two of you were heading to, to the events which put you on this highway, heading away from your family and friends.

The beginning of the summer had you feeling as youthful as ever, the freedom of having no responsibilities following you around was completely liberating. Even the prospect of staying home alone with your cat seemed glorious, if it meant you didn’t have to come to work tomorrow.

“So what are you planning to do this summer (y/n)? No kids for you to look over, so you’ve got absolutely nothing to do?” Poe said from behind you, quickening his pace to walk beside you as the two of you walked to the parking lot of the preschool. You shook your head, making sure all of your things stayed in your arms as the two of you walked to your parking spots, leaving behind the small town preschool the two of you worked in. The two of you were both preschool teachers who were both relieved to be met with the summer holiday, especially because of the lack of small children driving you insane.

“I don’t know. Sit around my apartment, drink some wine, the usual,” you said, trying to reach for the handle of the backdoor. Seeing your full hands, Poe reached over for you and opened the door, and you promptly placed your things in the back seat, while muttering out a quick thanks.

“What happened to your bag?” He asked as you stood up straight once more. You let out a groan at his question, thinking about the hell children that had ruined the bag you used to carry all your things.

“Oh, one of the boys got a hold of it for their little group. They thought it would be good for putting things outside in,” you said, running a hand through your hair, thinking about your poor bag in the laundry room.

“Oh no,” Poe said with a grimace. “Well, instead of doing your ‘usual,’ as you call it, why don’t you join me, Finn, and Rey? We’re heading into the city for a drink at that new bar that everyone’s raving about. How about it?”

Admittedly, it had been a long time since you’d gone out with all your friends, after all preschoolers were a handful, and you’d never had quite the same amount of energy as Poe. You couldn’t help but want to join them. After all, you lived a lonely life. What was one night out with your friends?

“Alright, but if Finn and Rey want to start making out, then I’m leaving,” you said with a smile. Poe smiled back, his boyish grin lighting up his face.

“Great! Are you gonna drive there alone or do you want me to pick you up?” He asked as he watched you get settled into the driver’s seat of your car. You scrunched up your face as you thought. Did you really want to drive into the city alone?

“No, I’ll just ride along with you. That way one of us can be the DD,” you said with a smirk. Poe returned the gesture before closing the car door for you. After starting the car, you rolled the window down.

“How does eight sound?”

“Great actually! I have to feed Frey and he won’t eat if I leave,” you said, picturing your giant fluffy brown cat waiting patiently for you to arrive home. “I’m sure you’ve got to feed BB-8 too.” Poe rubbed the back of his neck before smiling.

“Yeah, I do, I’m guilty. Alright, eight it is, see you then (y/n)!” He waved a final goodbye before walking over to his car. With a sigh and smile, you looked forward, changing the gear to be set in reverse before backing out of your parking spot and heading home.

You lived in a very mediocre apartment complex at the end of the small town that you had always felt the slightest bit of trapped in. You had grown up here with your friends Rey and Poe, and now you and Poe both worked at the same preschool that you’d gone to as children. It was frustrating to you, thinking about your everyday mundane life, coming home every day to your cat and otherwise empty apartment. When you were in high school you’d dreamed of leaving this town behind and moving off to the city, but after you were done with college, you found the first job open to you, which unfortunately in the place you wanted to be the least. However, that feeling of being trapped made you all the more excited for tonight. It would be a great way to start off the summer, spending time with your friends at the new bar in a city you would have dreamed to live in.

With a sigh, you pushed some of your stray hairs out of your face before turning off the ignition and stepping out of the car. You weren’t even going to bother with your things tonight, you were so done with the school year. You didn’t even teach at an actual school, but taking care of preschoolers had completely worn you out, especially since they were giddy with excitement to start the summer holidays. Walking up the stairs that took you to your apartment, you noticed your neighbor was sitting outside again, like the benign grandmother that she is.

“Hey Maz,” you said with a warm smile as you reached the top of the steps. The small old woman smiled back at you in that grandmotherly way that made you feel safe.

“Hey (y/n), how was the last day?” She inquired. You let out a small groan and shook your head.

“It could not have come sooner. I think I might have to find a new job, Maz. I love kids, but I don’t think I can handle this anymore. Also, I didn’t go to school for a degree in education to teach preschoolers. And I’m not even teaching them anything! It’s basically glorified daycare!” You let out as Maz laughed.

“Try to find a job in the city. I’m sure they’ll want you for more than just glorified daycare,” she said with a wink. You shook your head again, a small grin shaping your lips. In your dreams, (y/n).

“That’s too expensive for me, but it would be nice. Anyways, I’ve got to feed Frey ‘cause I’m going out later. See ya!” You said with a wave before turning to your door and unlocking it. Maz waved back as you disappeared into the small apartment. Almost immediately, you were greeted by a large and fluffy brown tabby, his green eyes looking at you expectantly as he let out a loud meow.

“Good to see you too buddy,” you said, leaning down to scratch the top of his head. The cat purred in delight before deciding that he was more hungry rather than wanting to be pet. With a sigh, you watched as he sauntered towards the kitchen, as if he was expecting you to follow. Shaking your head, you stepped into the kitchen, opening the cabinet where you kept the cat food.

After placing the food in Frey’s bowl, you leaned against the kitchen counter, looking around your slightly bleak apartment. It made you think about Maz’s idea, and how appealing it seemed to you compared to the way you were living now. A change of scenery would be great compared to living in the dull town where nothing ever happened and everyone knew your business. Even looking out of your window was incredibly bland. Letting out a huff, you ran your hands through your (y/h/c) hair, wanting nothing more than to leave this town behind.

Eight o’clock could not take longer for you, and as the hours droned on, you found yourself going a little stir crazy. It didn’t really surprise you, funnily enough, that you were being this way. After all, you were always so tired after work that normally your only social interactions were between Maz and your cat. Not even bathing could take your mind off the incessant need to do something, and now you were lying on your couch, staring at your phone, waiting for Poe to arrive. As you watched the time on your phone turn to eight, there was a knock on your door.

Always on time.

With that you stood, readjusting your shirt from where it had ridden up when you lied on the couch. Frey, who was rubbing against your legs, let out a loud meow, causing you to smile down at him.

“At least I know someone’s waiting for me,” you said to the cat before scratching the top of his head and then heading out.  You opened the door and smiled at Poe, who had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his favorite jacket.

“You ready?” he said, looking up at you. You studied him for a second, noticing that his curly hair looked as if he tried to slick it back but failed miserably, and nodded. The two of you made your way down the rickety metal steps of your apartment complex and headed into the parking lot where Poe’s car awaited.

The Imperial Bar and Lounge had been raved about in all sorts of reviews, from food critics to the hottest place for young people to hang out. The outside of the bar seemed formidable to you, a sleek two-story building made of white brick, and the purple neon sign lighting up the doorway underneath it. The bottom floor was a simple bar, like any, tables scattered around in their minimalistic design, but it still had the same ambience as the club that awaited on the top floor.

“How about we skip the bar and head up to the top?” Poe said with a smirk, causing you to shove him lightly.

“I thought we were just going out for drinks, Poe. Besides, none of us look club ready,” you said, panning the group, the only well-dressed one in the group being Poe, besides his token jacket. You thought this might have been a compelling argument, especially since you didn’t think that you were mentally prepared enough to go up to the club on the second floor. Just by looking through the windows, you could tell it was packed more so than the bare beneath it. However, much to your discontent, Rey bounced in excitement at Poe’s idea.

“Everyone’s told me it’s a great club! C’mon, let’s go!” Rey grabbed onto Finn’s arm, who readily followed her, and Poe looked to you with a smile before the two of you followed your friends.

Once upstairs and in the club, the atmosphere became hectic, or at least to you. Soon, you and Poe had lost Finn and Rey, who disappeared into the crowd of people dancing. You rolled your eyes as you looked around for them. For you and Poe, this was an extremely common occurrence, and so in your mind you thought that continuing the normal chain of events was best. Looking towards Poe and locking eyes with him, you knew you were both thinking the same thing. The bar. Fighting your way through the crowd of dancing people, you headed towards the sleek bar that was illuminated by the same ultraviolet  light as the sign outside hanging above it. Behind the bar was a tall blonde woman, her friendly yet sharp features seeming to draw you in as you sat on the stool right in front of her after making your way through the crowd.

“What can I get ya?” She asked, leaning against the bar on her elbow, empty glass in her hand.

“I’ll just get a frozen mango margarita, thanks,” you said, looking to Poe, who’d just sat down. The bartender turned to face him, waiting for him to order a drink.

“You’ve got Negra Modelo?” he asked, facing forward. The bartender nodded.

“I’ll get those for ya. My name is Phasma, if you need anything.” You smiled at her as she left to prepare your drinks before turning back to Poe.

“Beer? That’s it?” You asked as Poe, who was looking at his phone, looked up at you.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna have one, I’ll be the DD tonight,” he said with a smirk. Like always, Poe knew exactly what you had needed, and you definitely needed to be a little tipsy. You smiled back before turning around in the stool to face the crowd, leaning against the bar for support on your elbows. As you looked around, you noticed a rather odd sight ahead. In what you assumed to be the VIP booth, which was tucked away in the furthest corner of the dark room, was a redheaded man, dressed in all black head to toe, his expression serious and his body tense. On either side of him were people dressed in the same manner, with the same expressions on their face, as they spoke to the man across from them, who was dressed in business attire. However, what caught your attention most was the man standing outside the booth.

He was tall, intimidatingly so, and was dressed in black like the others, except not the exact same attire. While the others seemed to be in what looked like suits- from the angle, you couldn’t quite tell- this man was dressed in a black coat and what looked to be black jeans. You couldn’t look away from him no matter what you tried. You were very much entranced by his entire being from the leather gloves on his rather large hands to the stark paleness of his angular face. He looked to be very stern, seeming like a no bullshit kinda guy. You noticed that he was scanning the area like some kind of bird of prey, watching the crowd for any signs of disturbance, and in his pathway was you, causing the two of you to lock eyes.

Though you were embarrassed that he caught you staring, for reasons you couldn’t quite understand you kept on staring back at him. He quirked a brow before he seemed to be called by the redhead in the booth. Sighing, you turned around to see that your drink had arrived, and that the bartender Phasma was standing in front of you.

“Checking out Hux and his henchmen? Not a lot of people notice them in that dim corner,” she remarked as you took the straw for your drink into your mouth, taking in the sweet mango flavor. You nodded in response to her question before looking back up at her, her blue eyes boring into you.

“Who is he?” You asked, looking over your shoulder to see. The tall man and the business man had disappeared but the redhead, Hux you assumed, and his “henchmen” as Phasma had called them were still there.

“He owns the place. A lot of rumors go around about him, but he’s not as scary as he seems. No, his designated bodyguard Ren is the scary one,” she said as you turned back around to face her. You looked over at Poe, who shrugged in response.

“Seems a little uptight,” he added to the conversation, and both you and Phasma nodded in agreement.

“He is but he’s alright most days,” Phasma said before standing up straight. “I’ll be right back, let me serve these guys over here.”

You looked over at Poe, who seemed to be scanning the crowd.

“They’ve been lost again,” you said wistfully, thinking about Rey and Finn. Poe simply nodded before standing up.

“I’m gonna try and find them.” Shortly afterwards, he disappeared into the crowd of people dancing. You simply continued to sip on your drink while your eyes shifted around the room with the intent of finding your friends. However, soon you felt a presence behind you, and then a figure slid into the stool next to you where Poe previously sat as Phasma approached you again.

“Hello Ren. The usual?” Phasma asked the figure beside you. You turned your head to see the man you had been staring at earlier. From up close, his facial features were more severe, and you could also see the freckles and beauty marks that littered his face. You turned away quickly before he could cath you staring at him…again.

“Yeah,” he stated shortly, resting his elbows against the bar in almost the same manner as you. You were amazed at how much room he took up, and how muscular he was. From far away, it was hard to tell how large his arms were, especially against the dark background of which he was standing in front of, but now that he was sitting next to you, you could tell that he was probably strong enough to crush you.

You looked back at Phasma, who had prepared a shot glass and was now pouring silver tequila into it. After the glass seemed almost brimming, she slid it to Ren, who took the shot almost immediately before turning to you.

His eyes seemed to bore into you, like he was looking for an answer he couldn’t say out loud, and their almost golden color had you in awe. You were amazed at how this man was both intimidating yet oddly handsome in his own unconventional way.

“Is this your first time at the Imperial?” He asked you, his baritone voice coming off as very warm.

“Yeah, I don’t really come to the city much,” you answered after gathering your thoughts. Maybe the margarita was starting to get to you, but you were having a hard time stringing the right words together. However, he simply nodded in response, looking down at the shot glass that had been refilled. You could tell he wasn’t much of a conversation person.

In the time that you had waited for Poe, Finn, and Rey, you joined Ren in his shots of tequila, and were definitely beginning to feel the effects. Soon, the barrier that separated Ren into being a stranger had been completely torn down, and you were sharing things you would later regret to have shared.

“I mean, kids are all well and great, but some of them suck! Their parents are already teaching them that the world basically belongs to them and it’s annoying!” You said after probably your sixth shot. Ren, who seemed completely unmoved by the copious amounts of tequila he had already had, simply watched you, and nodded in agreement. Phasma, from behind the bar, was trying to stifle her laughter.

“I just want a new job away from that stupid small town, is that so much to ask? I’m sick of these preschool kids who cry when anything goes wrong.” Letting out a huff, you held your shot glass up for it to be refilled but a large hand covered the top of the glass before Phasma could pour you another shot.

“I think she’s had enough, Phasma,” Ren said, looking up at the blonde. She let out a soft chuckle while nodding, and then went to go tend to other customers sitting at the opposite end of the bar.

“What kind of name is Ren anyways?” you blurted out, unable to put any kind of filter on your words. There was a brief second of anxiety where you wondered if your question would offend him, but the daze put on by the alcohol quickly covered that up.

“It’s my last name. My first name is Kylo,” he responded, turning to face you better. You noted how long his legs were, because he had one of his feet propped up on one of the bars on the stool, which made his knee go higher than his hips.

“That’s still an odd name. Kylo Ren. Sounds like something from a fantasy novel,” you remarked, looking him up and down, trying to examine his body language, but failing miserably in your drunken state. It looked as if he was going to open his mouth again, but he stopped himself the same moment you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to turn around.

“Poe! You left me!” You exclaimed, bringing your friend into a big hug. Though he looked confused, Poe played along and patted your back comfortingly.

“Time to go (y/n). You’ve had a bit too much to drink,” Poe said, pulling you off the bar stool. Though you didn’t notice it, Poe gave Ren a small glance, some indiscernible emotion hiding behind his eyes before he ushered you away. From a short distance away, you could see Finn and Rey, who were watching Poe help you off the stool before rushing to your aid. Together, the three of them got you out of the top floor of the Imperial Bar and Lounge, but you couldn’t help but look back at Kylo Ren, who was still sitting at the bar. You could’ve sworn you saw a smirk on his face, and you also could’ve sworn that he was also shaking his head.

When you’d gotten back to your apartment, Poe helped you in and settled you into bed, being the perfect friend he was. However, as you sobered up, your mind wandered into more somber thoughts.

“Poe, do you ever think about leaving?” You asked as he started leaving the room. To him, this was indicating your sobering up, but he was sure you were still the slightest of tipsy, so he decided to humor you.

“Sometimes. I like it here though. Nice people, nice environment.” He replied before turning off the overhead light. “Goodnight (y/n).”

Once you knew he was gone, you flipped over, greeted by the extraordinary fluff of your cat. However, you didn’t care, your mind was still on Poe’s reply, and how it practically haunted you. With another sigh, followed quickly by a yawn, you curled up underneath the blankets.

Of course you’d think that, Poe.

[i-just-really-like-ladies]

Hey op, I saw your post about discovering you were autistic. Something similar is happening to me except I haven't gone for a diagnosis yet. Would it be okay for you to talk about how you knew?

For me there are things that...fit really well, that hit very close to home, but others not so, so Im not sure if whatever it is that I've got (because clearly, something is there.) I'm not very sure if the autistic spectrum can be so wide as for me to be included in it.

Any tips?

Of course, happy to help.

For me there were three kind of bigger indicators.

First, and after discussing this one with my therapist, it seems to be very consistent across autistic people: I've always felt different. Like I knew that I was at the very least slightly off in comparison to other people. (Please excuse the phrasing, I couldn't think of another way to put it properly).

Second, linked with the first: I have always experienced this thing I like to describe as 'not feeling like a real person'. All that really means is that I see the way other people are out laughing boldly with friends or joking or just straight up experiencing the world, and I think "man, I wish I could be a real person." And it always made me sad because I was consciously realising that I cannot and do not experience the world in the same way most neurotypical people do. It was just this huge feeling of otherness. (My therapist indicated that this is very common)

Third: masking. Now, this one made me feel bad for a really long time because I had no clue what was going on until my ex-girlfriend was like "oh, yeah, that's masking." For me, one of the biggest ways I mask is to copy mannerisms and speech patterns of people I'm around. I do it the most when I really like someone (friend like or romantically) or when a person makes me so extremely uncomfortable that I guess my brain is like "you need to mimic them for safety reasons." The reason this one bothered me so much is that I always felt like I just couldn't have my own personality, why was I always copying other people, surely they've all noticed and think I'm a fucking weirdo. It was very upsetting until I learned it was masking. Finding that out has helped me to accept it when I do it, even though I am trying to mask less.

So, those are the big three. There are lots of other minor things. I have ocd, which very commonly goes hand in hand with Autism. I got that need for rigid schedule and following the same patterns almost daily (slight variations are okay, but people planning stuff and not telling me when I've already set up my personal schedule for the day in my head, big no no). I eat the same foods on repeat and have an extremely difficult time changing it up. When I like food or dislike it, the primary reason is texture. (My fiance actually pointed this one out. Apparently I talk about the texture of food a ton).

I'm sure you've probably come across information about the emotionality of Autistic people. The common trope is that we are very emotionless. However, thats not accurate at all. There are two main big categories of where we can fall: tending to not feel emotions very strongly (the trope), and feeling emotions very intensely, more intensely than neurotypical society says is appropriate 🙄. I fall into this category, and I hate it because I have spent so much time trying to just not feel my emotions because they are so intense and my expression of them is 'inappropriate' that it has caused a great many mental health issues for me. So the eye roll face is because I think that the appropriate expression of emotion dictated by most of society is stupid. Along with this one, I have a hard time verbalizing and verbally identifying how I am feeling. As a result, I tend to just tell people I am upset. My therapist says this is somewhat common amongst Autistic individuals. I cannot recall the reasoning she gave for it being common, but I am including it because it was brought up in the process of discussing all this.

I also have this huge tendency to overexplain my reasons for things I've done or said because I do not want to be misunderstood/I have experienced misunderstanding so many times that I learned to do this at some point (I consider this to be part of my masking). This one seems to be pretty common, at least from tiktok. I've seen a lot of Autistic people on tiktok mention it.

Side note in relation to this but still relevant to the post imo, I hate that society tends to think you are lying the more detail you provide. I have a tendency to find all details absolutely vital. So when telling someone about what happened in a situation, I relay as much information as I can. Apparently, that means you are lying. It frustrates me a lot.

In that same vein, another thing my therapist said is fairly common: many Autistic people like to ask why continuously. Not as in just repeating "why," but rather that someone will say "I don't know" or provide an answer, but we often are still seeking a further reason. I've done this my entire life, and booooy does it aggravate people. For me it is just that I want to know the reasoning behind things. I want to know as much information as possible about the topic, and, as mentioned above, I tend to find every single detail absolutely important. That just leads to continuously asking why.

So another one for me, of which I am unsure the commonality: I have a very difficult time maintaining friendships unless I see someone most days of the week. I would say about 5 out of the 7 makes it the easiest for me, but it has worked out on less than that, rarely. The reason for this is that I forget to talk to people when I cannot physically see them. I mean, I just don't think about it for weeks on end. Then I will for a second, but won't message them because I'm doing something, and then forget about it again for ages. Part of this is that I prefer in person communication because I can try to read people's body language and facial expressions. The other part is tone of voice is more clear in person than via text. Now, this one bothered me when I was trying to figure out if I was autistic because it is common for Autistic people to not recognise facial cues and body language the same way as neurotypical people. Turns out, according to my testing results paperwork, i just have a higher ability to recognise facial expressions than most people diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. So, I just vary a bit from the average.

Within this same vein is the commonly known 'eye contact issue'. The stereotype is that we cannot and do not make eye contact. This is so false. Many Autistic people do not make eye contact well, yes, but not all. For example, I do. I told one of my brothers I was getting tested for Autism and his response was, and I quote literally here, "I don't think you're Autistic because you make eye contact." What he didn't know is the reason why I make eye contact. I do it because I was taught repeatedly that it is how you show people you are listening. So, basically, I'm masking when I make eye contact because I'm solely doing it to show someone I am listening to them. In fact, 😆 I commonly am sitting there telling myself to make eye contact in order to indicate that I am present and interested in what the other person is saying. I also have a harder time masking this way when attempting to talk about things that are important and emotionally relevant to me. In therapy, I rarely make eye contact with my therapist because it is so difficult to talk about things in general that I cannot also make eye contact. Lastly, for this one, the more comfortable I am with someone, the less I make eye contact with them. My fiance, for example, not very common at all that I do it.

There is also the very common special interests phenomenon. The media tends to show this as a math or science thing, but it really isn't. I follow one tiktoker whose special interest is bugs and, I believe, art. I highly recommend her. Her handle is: soundoftheforest. For me, it's language/linguistics and ancient egypt, Greece and Rome. Really, I'd say ancient anywhere history, but those are the big three. Egypt has been my longest interest, besides language. I actually remember the moment I was like "this is it for life." I was 7 and had finished my library books but was bored at daycare. So I went to the book shelf and picked up a book about King Tut. It was the page I read about the day Howard Carter found the tomb. And I just knew me and Ancient Egypt were meant to be forever. As for language, I've literally always been fascinated by it. I started speaking very early and with more complex words than is usual. And I just continued to love language from there. I ended up studying ancient Greek and Latin in college. Also, I info dump about these all the time, almost anytime I possibly can because they're so fucking cool. 😁

Another side note, it is common for Autistic individuals to have delays in speaking, I just did not. It is not something required for the diagnosis. It is just very common.

This one is a little bit weird, and might just be a me thing, but I've discussed it with my therapist. She indicated that it very much aligns with Autism. I cannot, or can but with extreme apprehension and knowledge that I will leave depressed; I simply cannot go into buildings of certain lighting, age, and design. It seems to be buildings that look and/or feel like they were built in the 1960s or 1970s. We haven't really figured out why that is a thing, but it is. I once didn't bother to finish applying for a job to teach Latin that I'd basically been guaranteed so long as I sent in the app because when I went for the interview I saw the building and knew I could not teach there, even part time, because the building would depress me constantly. It's a weird one, but if you have anything at all where you just cannot do it because you know it will affect you like this, I'd bring it up in discussing potentially being Autistic.

I nearly forgot to mention this one, but you've probably heard about the sensory issues that many Autistic people deal with. I have some with touching things, but it is less common an issue for me than my sound sensitivity issues. I am very sensitive to sound. If I had to give a 4th big reason, this would be it because I get overstimulated and overwhelmed by sound multiple times a day. Its rough. If you also have this issue, I cannot recommend enough noise cancelling headphones and chew stim toys when you don't have your headphones. It's really helpful.

This last one I'm going to mention is something that I think I do just to help prevent burnout from masking, but is also part of me specifically. I am an introvert. So that plays a role in this. I spend the vast majority of my time completely by myself. I do mean even when at home with my fiance. We are often in different rooms. I have no problem with it. It doesn't feel like it is bad for our relationship, thankfully. I just prefer to be alone most of the time. The more time I spend around people, the more time afterwards I need alone. That is partially my introvertedness but also me needing to because I am socially exhausted from masking and trying to read all the social cues and not make weird errors when in social settings 😳, which I do a lot. I think I just default to spending time by myself when I am not required to engage with people in order to ensure that I can later. Plus, in discussing this one with my therapist, we concluded that I do this at least in part to prevent burnout and overstimulation.

As for the testing itself. I discussed this with my therapist for a while when waiting to get tested, and by the time I did get tested, I had a nice long list of stuff to bring up. I would definitely recommend compiling a list of the symptoms/signs you feel are indicative for yourself. It was very quick after I first brought it up in therapy that I decided I needed the official diagnosis for myself. So my therapist gave me recommendations of who to see. I also looked myself because the recommended people were so booked they couldn't even schedule further out. Once I got it scheduled, I had to wait like 3 months for the appointments. So, if you are seeking the official diagnosis, don't give up because it's a long wait. From what I've seen others saying, it's pretty common to have to wait a bit to be seen.

There were 3 appointments, an intake, a testing, and a feedback appointment. The intake appointment involved me talking to the doctor about my experiences and why I thought I might be autistic. She asked me a few questions about the more commonly known signs of autism if I did not mention them. The testing appointment took about 4 hours and involved a self report personality assessment, several verbal and memory activities, a teaching activity, two story telling/creating activities, and (the part I thought was most difficult) an activity in which I had to identify the emotion being expressed by just the eye and eyebrow area of black and white photos of people. I also had a take home assessment for someone who knew me really well. It was related to executive functioning abilities and emotional regulation abilities. I cannot speak on the feedback appointment because of technical issues resulting in not actually having that appointment. I have rescheduled it and will be doing that later this month.

If you have anything more specific you want to ask me about, please do. I am happy to answer.

[roshellrp]

NAME: Kaito Parker

AGE: 24

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Agender (presenting as male on Earth), He/Him

AGE AT TIME OF POD EMERGENCE: 17

LENGTH OF TIME IN ROSWELL: 7 years

POWER: Glaciokinesis (ice manipulation)

OCCUPATION: Sunshine Daycare - Teacher

FC: Yuzuru Hanyu

this is not the world we had in mind, but we got time. we are stuck on answers we can’t find, but we got time. and even though we might have lost tonight, the skyline reminds us of a different time. 

Death CW

The air around the sand dunes where his pod had lain for decades was abrasively warm against his cool skin as soon as he emerged in the year 2012–a fresh faced ‘boy’ with no memory of who he was. He was woken up by a wise, old Navajo man named Jáan who had uncovered the long lost pod that was mostly submerged in sand by that time. Jáan knew that the somewhat fragile-looking, long-limbed boy would not survive out there on his own and wordlessly took him into his home that stood a bit secluded just on the edge of Roswell.

Kaito Parker–the name he would become known as, under the guise of being an immigrant from the far east adopted into an American family–understood hardly a word of English at the time of his emergence. In fact, he could only distantly recall being able to speak some language that he did not know the name of. Occasionally a few words would slip out without him realizing it, but they did not help him in this land of a harsh sun that aggravated his overly sensitive skin. It took a long time for him to physically adjust to the discomforting heat of Roswell’s summer months, to be able to control his body temperature more or less. Whenever he ran a fever, he covered in cold sweat and his body temperature was still abnormally low compared to that of a regular human.

Jáan did everything to help assimilate Kaito into Roswell’s society–taught him English, basic maths, how to be polite. Kaito was a surprisingly quick learner–perhaps, some of the lessons were already ingrained in him from his past life and now he was merely remembering them.

He tried various jobs. He tried working at a bookstore, but he could not read well. He tried working at a cafe, but whenever he tried preparing a hot drink, it would mysteriously run ice cold by the time he got it to a customer. It caused complaints, confusion, and a deep-seated feeling of inadequacy within him. He had to quit, the power of ice having finally made itself known to him. It was something that he’d have to learn how to hide.

From nineteen, he took a couple of courses at the University–that’s where he met Michael, a guy in his twenties who seemed overly interested in him, who found his broken English endearing. Kaito wasn’t sure why, but he was excited by the prospect of having a friend. Still mentally young, he was overly trusting and craved any kind of attention. He learned a lot from Michael–leisure sports, movies, nightlife… romance, or at least what he believed was romance. Lacking experience, he was quick to fall in love where Michael just wanted to have some fun with him. Michael quickly realized this, but instead of setting him straight, he took advantage and continued leading him on. He would often comment about how cool Kaito’s body felt to the touch–it made Kaito self-conscious and want to recoil, but Michael always stopped him and claimed that he liked it. Kaito always wondered if somehow Michael knew, but even so, he trusted him and felt a bubble of hope at the prospect of being accepted fully for who he was.

How naive.

Can you show me? he asked one day, then further clarified what he meant. It was the first time Kaito had ever been asked about his power–mostly because no one knew. He admitted that he couldn’t–he didn’t know how. Michael then took it upon himself to help him learn how to wield it properly. Whereas it was usually a part of him that he felt ashamed of, he was filled with a sense of joy the moment he managed to dispel ice from his hand. He didn’t question Michael’s knowledge of these things, simply accepted him for being observant. He was the second person who knew. Jáan’s words–no one must know–echoed in his head, but he figured Michael was safe. They were together, after all…

It started with small, seemingly innocent requests. It’s hot, can you make my drink colder? Then it became less innocent. I wanna go for a swim, can you break the lock to the pool?–he did it, with a lot of hesitation. They almost got caught and the next day Kaito said that he was never doing it again. He didn’t like using his power for anything and he felt uncomfortable being coaxed into doing so. What? It’s not like I’m asking you to break anyone out of prison. Lighten up. Something about that left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach but he ignored it–he had to, since he didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t know what to make of the mysterious yet overbearing sense of sadness and melancholy that swept over him. Didn’t know about his real family, detained and tortured at Caulfield Prison many years ago.

It became a string of manipulation – no one else will ever accept you, I’m the only one you’ve got. It was a constant tug and pull, constant attempts to lead Kaito astray mixed with an instilled fear that his identity would be compromised. He told Jáan–someone knows. He shared his fears. He cried–his typically sunny personality and brilliant smile clouded over by the looming shadow of his manipulator. He was now in his twenties, and yet, being on Earth for only so many years made it feel as though he was far too young to get his heart played with and trampled on in this fashion. He took the risk and cut off all contact with Michael, met him with brutal (figurative) coldness whenever they did happen to come in contact–Michael didn’t seem too nonplussed about it. Perhaps he’d moved on to someone else who was like Kaito–if other such individuals truly existed in Roswell, as Jáan has claimed to be a likely possibility. Kaito had yet to meet anyone who was so the prospects weren’t too high for him.

Jáan, the man who’d become like a grandfather to him, passed away in 2018. With no other close family members, he left the house and a modest inheritance to Kaito. The empty house filled him with too much sadness, so he got a place closer to the center of town where he now worked at a daycare and rented the house out to tenants, not wanting to be faced with the short-lived yet bittersweet memories every day.

KAITO is penned by JC