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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

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Always You | JJK (Drabble#8)

Summary: You and Jungkook try something new.

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre:, SMUT

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: oral (male and female receiving.), vaginal and anal fingering, quick titty fuck, cum eating, anal sex (unprotected), slight degradation (jk calls oc a slut, whoops), mention of threesome

Notes: Something a little on the dirty side lol hope you guys enjoy! Remember requests for drabble ideas are open! Lets chat:)

Taglist: @seagulljk @fancycollectormoon @justinetingball

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Jungkook’s hands slide in your hair, softly massaging your scalp as you kiss down his chest. It’s been a long work week and Jungkook feels empty without your touch, he feels lost and down when he goes more than a day without you. You two have been planning this night for several weeks but the timing never worked out. He or you always returned home completely exhausted and barely making it to one another’s lips. But tonight you both feel well rested and ready to enjoy the touch of the other.

“You’re sure about this right baby?” his soft, calm voice makes you feel warm inside. You continue to kiss down his stomach, his muscles tensing as you leave light, fluttering kisses across his sensitive skin.

“I practically begged for this, didn’t I?” You lift your head to smile at him and he tightens his grip on your hair, forcing you down lower.

“Good.”

Finally, your lips make it to the head of his cock…you wrap them around his tip and start to lightly suck making him roll his head back in satisfaction.

“Make sure you take the whole thing…get it all wet, soak it in your spit.” He purrs, moving your head up and down his length as you take him deeper.

You moan in response, closing your eyes as you start sucking on his cock, only to open them seconds later to gaze into his half lidded eyes.

“My girl is so fucking good.” Jungkook breathes out, “Taking my cock so fucking well.”

You start sucking harder on his swollen length, making him shudder. Jungkook controls the speed with his hands in your hair, the pace nice and slow.

“Gonna fuck those tits.” He grits out. “Then gonna fuck that pretty ass.” He moves your head a little faster now, “Because it’s what my baby girl wants, right?”

“Mhm.” You hum around his member, licking it, sucking it, getting it drenched. He pulls your head back, his cock popping out of your mouth as drool slides down the corner of your lips.

“You’re so pretty my love.” Jungkook guides you higher on the bed, laying you on your side as he gets ready to position himself. He lays on his side as well as he holds his cock to your breasts. He lets go to reach out for them, groaning when he squeezes them and jiggles them around.

“Love these.” He whispers, “Gonna get my cum all over you, right baby?”

“Jungkook…” you moan, reaching for his cock but he slaps your hand away.

“No, you hold on to these, squeeze them around me.” He instructs as he leads your hands to grab a hold of your tits. “Spit down your chest baby.”

You let a long string of saliva slide down the valley of your breasts and Jungkook slides his cock between your tits, you push your breasts together and he moans out with how pillowy soft they are against him.

“This is going to feel heavenly.” He says so quietly, you barely hear him. “So fucking good.”

He thrusts up between your tits, his cock easily sliding from how wet it is and he whines.

“Fucking amazing…fuck, fuck.” He starts fucking your tits now, sliding between them with a greater force. “Spit some more baby.”

Your saliva drips down your chest and onto his cock, you can see how desperate he is and it has you clenching around nothing.

“Feels good?” you breathe out roughly, “Wanna come all over my tits babe?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Jungkook keeps his eyes down, he watches as the head of his cock peaks through every time he thrusts forward. He stays like this for several minutes, his cries of pleasure ringing in your ears and you could not be more satisfied.

“I want your cock so bad!” you yell out, “Want you to fuck me!”

“I will baby, fuck…just a little more…fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You spit down on his cock again, the valley of your breasts slick with your saliva as he pushes his cock in and out between your tits. His hips are working so fucking hard, one hand on your waist and the other in your hair. He starts to fuck your tits so quickly, his eyes slamming shut as he rolls his head back. You feel his cum shoot out of him, some dripping down your chin and throat, some oozing all over the tops of your breasts.

Jungkook opens his eyes to look at the mess he made as he slows down. You let go of your boobs, his cock freed from the soft suffocation. He squeezes his eyes shut again and a wide smile makes its way on his face. He opens them, his gaze on you as he leans down slightly to meet you for a kiss. His hand cups your jaw, his fingers getting sticky with the mess he made but he doesn’t care. As he kisses you, his hand travels down your jaw to your throat, he wipes up the mess and pulls back from you.

“Eat.” He commands with a smirk, lifting his fingers to your lips. He pushes past them and your tongue swirls against his long fingers, licking the mess, eating his cum.

“Good. Leave the rest of my cum on you.”

Jungkook goes down your body until he is between your legs, he spreads them apart as he takes a look at your dripping pussy.

“All this is for me, right?” he asks with big, doe eyes.

“Yes baby, it’s all for you.” You assure him, spreading your legs wider. “All of me is for you.”

“This is for me too?” he lifts your legs up until your ass is off the bed and he lightly spanks it. You can’t help but giggle as you nod your head and say yes.

“Good, because tonight I am truly going to make it mine.” He purrs again, lowering your legs. He takes one leg and starts kissing up it, starting at your calf until you feel his lips on your inner thigh. He stares at you with dark eyes the entire time, but you can see they are so full of love.

“No more teasing, I want you.” You whine.

“Baby I have to make you as comfortable as possible, okay?” he continues kissing you. He finally leans down and attaches his mouth to your clit and you immediately groan out, the sensation so powerful as he sucks and licks on it. Your bundle of nerves were aching for his touch, aching for his tongue, aching for him.

“Aaaahhh…” you moan out, slowly closing your eyes. “So good baby.”

Jungkook continues to dance his tongue over your needy pussy and then you feel the welcome intrusion of his fingers in your hole. He gets his fingers nice and soaked before he’s leaving your center and heading lower…his fingers play at your ass now. He uses his pointer finger to circle around your tight hole, trying to relax you as much as possible.

“I’m going to enter a finger now, okay?” he says, lifting his face from your cunt, “It’s going to feel good, I promise.”

“Okay…” you moan, “Please.”

Jungkook lowers his head again, but his eyes remain on you as he slowly starts to push his finger in your tight hole, you whimper at the tense feeling. He starts licking your clit again to distract you as he pushes it further and further. He stops to gauge how you are feeling, his eyes still on you. You look so fucked out, your face expressing true bliss so he starts to slowly, very slowly thrust his finger in and out of you.

“Ah.” You tense, but you welcome the new sensation. “You can add another…”

Jungkook smirks, feeling very proud of you for adjusting so quickly…he slowly adds in another finger and starts pushing in and out of you more quickly, curling his fingers in a way that has you feeling a new type of pleasure.

You aren’t sure if this pleasure if strictly because you love being intimate with Jungkook, if it’s because being nasty with him turns you the fuck on or because it actually just feels good.

Jungkook continues to eat you out as he fucks his fingers into your hole, you feel so full this way.

“Can I try to add a third?” Jungkook breathes out roughly, “It might be a good idea…before you take my cock.”

“I-I don’t know…” you whimper out honestly. “Stay like this for a while, please.”

Jungkook nods his head in understanding. He continues to fuck your hole with his fingers as he dives back in to eat your pussy.

“Jungkook, Jungkook.” You moan. “I’m close.” You warn as he licks your most sensitive spot faster. You curl your toes as you feel your orgasm coming, your hands reach for Jungkook’s hair and you shove him deeper into your pussy. “Good boy.” You whisper and then it hits you. The tension snaps as you start coming all over his tongue. He slows his fingers as well as you start coming down from your climax.

“Gonna focus on this pretty ass now, okay?�� Jungkook finally adds a third finger, you gasp when you feel it. He slowly starts pushing all three fingers in and out, your legs shake as he does so.

Jungkook does this for a long while, prepping and stretching your hole. You finally start to feel a bit more comfortable, moaning and groaning as his fingers fuck you.

“I’m-I’m ready…let’s try.” You breathe out harsh breaths, “Baby I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook slows his fingers, “Want me to fuck you in the ass?”

“Please.”

Jungkook’s fingers leave your hole and he helps you to your knees, you fall forward in his arms and he kisses you, long and hard. His lips smacking roughly against your own, his hands squeezing your ass cheeks.

“Gonna fuck you from behind, okay?” He asks, making sure you are still comfortable with everything.

“Yes sir.” You wink, getting on your hands and knees in front of him. You wiggle your ass and call for him. “Fuck me, Jungkook.” You beg, “Fuck me so fucking well.”

Jungkook feels his cock swelling in pleasure, the thought of being inside your tight hole has him wanting to fill it up with his cum.

“Of course baby.” He sighs out, “Gonna fuck you.” He grabs the lube on the nightstand and lathers his dick with it. He positions himself behind you and leans down to kiss the skin of your back.

“I’m sorry if this hurts my love, but you can take it right?”

“Yes!” you cry out when you feel his tip circling around your hole, “Just do it baby.”

Jungkook starts to push through, his hips moving forward and you feel the burn of his cock entering your ass. It hurts, it fucking hurts. You groan out, crying out but you don’t tell him to stop. Instead you beg for him to continue.

“Fuck.” Jungkook grunts, “So fucking tight, my god.”

His hips continue to push forward until his entire cock is inside you. You take a few seconds to adjust, gulping down your nerves and instead you start to move your own hips, signaling him to continue.

“You okay baby?” Jungkook voice is beyond shaky and strained, your ass is squeezing him so tightly he’s about to bust.

“Move!” you yell out in pleasure, “Please!”

Jungkook catches his breath and starts to slowly ease out of you and slowly pushes back in, you gasp when he bottoms out again, his hips meeting your ass cheeks.

“Baby I won’t last long, you’re so tight…” Jungkook admits between bated breaths. “Feels so good.”

“You can fuck me baby, I’m ready.” You squeeze your eyes shut as he starts rocking his hips back and forth, the burn of the stretch starting to ease up. He’s finally starting to thrust in and out more smoothly, his thrusts long and dragged out. His cock brushing against you so tensely that it starts to feel good. You groan when he starts to find a steady rhythm, he throws his head back and keeps his hands on your ass as he starts to fuck you more seriously now.

“Feel good?” Jungkook grits out, fucking you a bit faster than before. “I love your ass baby, it’s so warm, so tight. Made perfectly for me.” He pants, squeezing your cheeks in his hands as he fucks you more quickly now, his thrusts shorter and harder.

“So good Jungkook! Don’t stop, your cock makes me feel so full.”

“I bet…I bet you wish you had another cock in that pussy don’t you?” Jungkook moans, “Bet you wish you were really full.” He fucks your harder now, god, you can feel him hitting some sort of spot you cannot describe.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“For now, touch yourself for me.” Jungkook softly commands, “Put your pretty little fingers on that clit of yours.”

Your hand drags down your lower belly until your fingers find those bundle of nerves that are begging to be touched. You start rubbing your clit nice and fast, whining because Jungkook’s grunts are so deep and low that you could come to them alone.

“God you’re so cock hungry, cock hungry little slut. All mine though, aren’t you?”

“Ah, Jungkook….” Your ass jiggles every time his hips meet your cheeks and he can’t stop watching.

“Answer me. All mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours baby.”

Jungkook smiles as he looks up at the ceiling, he starts fucking you harder and deeper and faster and your legs are starting to give out, he’s fucking you so well.

You lay your upper body down on the bed and raise your ass higher, your fingers never stopping on your clit.

“I could come…” you let Jungkook know how close you are and he grunts in approval.

“Come then baby.”

You rub your fingers faster until the tension is so built up that you’re coming all over your fingers, the high feels amazing as you still have Jungkook buried deep into your ass.

“Come too my love.” You pant, “Fill my ass with your cum.”

Jungkook fucks you even faster, his hips slapping against your cheeks and then he’s beginning to still them, crashing his hips to your ass one last time as he comes. The noises he makes are heavenly, he’s whining and crying out in pleasure and you love it. Absolutely love it.

“Holy fuck…” Jungkook collapses on top of you, laying your entire body down as he relaxes. He slowly takes his leaking cock out of your hole and rolls over next to you.

“We….we have to do that again some time.” He breathes out, a chuckle escaping his lips. “How you feeling?”

“Incredible.” You laugh too, “But I have a feeling my ass is going to be so sore…”

“Probably.” Jungkook chuckles lightly again, “But you enjoyed it?”

“A lot. I am definitely down to do it again sometime.” You turn on your side to face him, leaning in to give him a kiss. “By the way…” you caress his cheek, “You think I want another cock filling me up? Is that your way of saying you want a threesome?” you tease and Jungkook starts going red, his cheeks lighting up.

“Maybe…” he says honestly, “I know it’s something you are down for…the words just sort of slipped out…”

You laugh again, continuing to caress his cheek and he starts to relax again.

“Maybe one day baby.” You lean in to kiss him again, “Maybe one day.”

“You know that I love you so much?” he kisses the inside of your palm, “Like so much it physically hurts sometimes.” He laughs.

“I feel the same babe.” You kiss his lips softly. “Going to be with you forever.” You say between pecks on his lips and he smiles.

“Yes, forever.”

#bts #bts fluff #bts smut #bts drabble #jeon jungkook #Jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #always you drabbles

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managedmischiefs · 4 years ago

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north//chapter nine

i apologize from the bottom of my heart for this chapter taking so long!! school sucks and takes up so much time. so please enjoy all these words that i wrote! big plots coming up real soon!! also i apologize in advance for the amount of pov changes in this chapter lol.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

pairing: season 10 spencer reid x female oc

warnings: talk of childhood abuse, smut, alcohol consumption, guns, me not knowing anything about art

words: 10.2k

AMELIA

I’m practically drenched in sweat when I wake up, cocooned in Spencer’s arms with my face pressed into his neck. Spencer becomes a furnace during the night, and combining his body heat with his tendency to cuddle me for hours upon hours, waking up sweaty is a common occurrence. My nose scrunches up and I start my gentle trek to unravel from Spencer’s arms. Thankfully, his grip isn’t too tight and he lets me go, snoring away and tucking his hands under my pillow.

I have every intention of getting up to go make breakfast before Spencer has to leave, but when I linger and let myself admire his face, I stop in my tracks. I revel in the beauty of his little button nose and his unruly eyebrows and his dimples, a different type of warmth spreading through my body. I resist the urge to reach forward and run my fingers over his face. He needs to get as much sleep as possible before he returns to work in a few hours.

Work. I guess he has to go back to work. Our six weeks together were absolutely amazing and only made me fall deeper in love with Spencer. We switched from apartment to apartment for the first two weeks or so, spending most of our time watching movies, laying in bed, or sitting on the balcony as we share a blanket. And once Spencer was mobile again, we opted to go out more than we had been. We went to the grocery store, bookshops, dinners, a drive-in movie, and Spencer even took me to a planetarium. We stayed there for hours as Spencer rambled on and on and on about the stars and planets and constellations. I don’t think I retained any of the information he relayed but I didn’t care and I still don’t. I got to spend time with my boyfriend with my head on his chest as he hugged me as tight as he could and that is all that matters.

But now he’s leaving and he will be returning to his insane job. He will be traveling for days at a time and at a moment’s notice, leaving me to stress over his well-being and safety. That’s a feeling that I don’t miss. I shake my head at my own intrusive thoughts, pulling away from my peaceful boyfriend. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and bury my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut as the horrible images of Spencer in the hospital resurface in my brain. I'm not even the one with the eidetic memory and I can still vividly remember how broken and weak he was after having three serious brushes with death in two days.

"Amelia?" I hear Spencer's voice behind me, the bed dipping as he rolls over. "What's wrong?"

I hastily wipe my cheeks and shake my head again, waving my hand. "Nothing, go back to bed."

I flinch when I feel Spencer's hand on my waist, his arms wrapping around my midsection, his chest pressing against my back so I'm sitting between his legs. "You're crying," his morning voice is undeniably sexy and raspy in my ear as he rests his chin against my shoulder. "Talk to me, please."

I place my hands on top of his where they rest on my stomach, intertwining our fingers and trying to remind myself that he's here and he's safe. But he won't be soon. He'll be off in the field and he'll be around the worst that society has to offer. People who kill without a second thought and don’t care if they take a federal agent and leave a sobbing, lovesick girlfriend behind. He faced three people like that and almost lost his life. It's a miracle he's even sitting here right now.

"Amelia?" He asks again, peering over my shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of my face. "Come on, talk to me. I don’t want you to cry."

"I just," I let my head fall back against his shoulder, wanting to be as close to him as possible, scooting my butt back until my body is completely flush against his, "I don't want you to go. I'm so scared you'll get hurt again and I can't- I don't wanna see you like that again, Spence, I can't-"

“Okay, okay, come here,” Spencer pats my thigh and scoots back against the headboard, opening his arms for me. I crack a smile, silently crawling into his arms and curling up against his chest. I can hear the steady rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat in my ear, calming me down to the point where I almost fall back asleep. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I’ll fall asleep on top of Spencer, he won’t have the heart to move my sleeping body, and then he has to stay home from work. It’s a win for everyone, except maybe Spencer’s boss.

"I'm gonna come home to you," Spencer whispers, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "I always have. I mean, I got shot and I still came home, right?"

"Spencer, acknowledging your gunshot wound isn’t helping,” I lift my head and my eyes wander to his neck, seeing the mark that's there, no longer a wound or even a scab, just a scar that will likely take a long time to fade, if it does at all. "I’m always gonna worry. I still worry about what types of situations you'll get yourself into and how many people are dying and if you're in danger and if someone is targeting you. I’ll always be worrying about you, except for the moments when you’re right next to me.”

"I know," Spencer sighs, brushing my hair behind my ears. His soft touch sets my skin on fire, and every time his lips touch my skin, I shutter. "I know it's hard and I'm sorry that you have to deal with this alone. But you know that I'll call you as much as I can to check in while I'm away. I might not even get a case today and then we can be together tonight! You never know what could happen.”

"I just-" I pause again, resting my forehead against Spencer’s chin, breathing in the lingering scent of the body wash that I’ve caught sight of in his bathroom. I try to breathe it in as much as possible so I can remember it when he leaves, “I love you. I love you so much.”

Spencer grins. Every time I recite those beautiful three words to him, even after six weeks of telling him at least four times every day, he stills grins in the most adorable way. "And I love you too. Don't worry your pretty little head about me, though. Go to your studio and make some more of your beautiful art. You haven't exercised your creative side properly in almost six weeks and you need to get it all out."

"Text me," I completely ignore what he says, far too wrapped up in my anxiety. "Just text me if you get a case and text me all the time if you can't call me, just so I know-"

"I always do," Spencer cuts me off. "Don't stress out too much, Lia. I've got a gun and my team, that's all I need. I'll come home to you, don't worry."

My bottom lip quivers as more tears threaten to fall, and I grip Spencer's tee shirt in my fists. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Course," he lures me closer, pressing his lips to mine in a feather-light kiss. For whatever reason, the simple kiss calms me down. For a millisecond, it makes me forget that he's about to run into the belly of the beast yet again. The pain returns when we pull away, and I wish I could keep kissing him forever to keep him in my arms and protect him from the horrors he is about to go see. "Alright," Spencer sighs, his hands falling to my waistline, "I've gotta start getting ready or we won't have time to get coffee."

“And tea!”

“Yes, and tea for you.”

I pull away and climb out of his bed, running my fingers through my hair as I reach for my bag, stuffed full of clothes, setting it on the bed. Spencer silently climbs out and heads into the bathroom to shower, leaving me in the bedroom to change. My hands are still shaking but I try to calm myself. Spencer seems calm so why shouldn't I be? He’s the trained federal agent here, so I have nothing to worry about, right? He knows what he’s doing and he’s been doing this job for years. I don’t need to worry. Please stop worrying.

I'm tightening my belt just as Spencer is coming out of the bathroom fully dressed, running his fingers through his wet hair. He looks criminally attractive but I don't let myself get distracted for long, tying my shirt up and running my fingers through my curls to tame them just a bit. I sit on the bed and tie on my tennis shoes, seeing Spencer clipping on his watch, always over the cuff of his sleeve. When he cranes his neck to get his tie on, I see the scar again and I have to tear my eyes away before I start crying for the third time this morning.

"Are you gonna be here when I come back?" Spencer asks, moving to stand in front of me, my eyes raking up his body until our eyes lock. He’s smiling, almost like he’s excited to go back to the job that got him addicted to drugs and the job that got him shot twice, and the job that gives him constant nightmares.

"I can be," I stand, giving him a weak smile as I reach for my overnight backpack. I wordlessly toss open the bedroom door and pick up Spencer's messenger bag, handing it over to him as he follows me. I don't even wait for him before I leave the apartment, hearing him closing and locking the door behind us.

Spencer only catches up to me when we get onto the sidewalk outside, the welcomed warmth from the sun soaking into our skin. He captures my hand in his and doesn't let go, intertwining our fingers and squeezing. "Why do I get the feeling that you're mad at me? Did I say something?"

I tug on his hand and he comes closer, allowing me to rest my head on his arm as we walk, our pace slowing a bit. I don't have the proper words to express the utter fear I'm feeling. I've lost the people I love before and I can't let that happen again. If I lose Spencer then there's no reason for me to be on this earth anymore. I can’t keep dealing with the heartbreak. I've never loved anyone the way I love him and if that gets ripped away from me yet again, I don't know what I'd do. I can’t lose my family and the love of my life and expect to continue living my life. I wouldn’t be able to.

"No," I answer his question weakly. I feel Spencer's eyes on me but I don't dare to look up at him, despite the way I crave to be comforted by the beauty of his eyes. "I’m not- no.”

"I don't want to go to work with you like this. I don't wanna leave you upset," he brings our hands up, pressing his lips to my knuckles. "And," he sighs dramatically, loudly, dropping our hands back down to our sides, "love, if this is too much for you and my job is too much, you don't have to stick around.”

I instantly freeze, my feet melting into the concrete sidewalk. "Are you breaking up with me? B-Because you think I can't handle the baggage that comes with your job?"

"No, no," Spencer shakes his head, standing in front of me and grabbing my cheeks. His forwardness would surprise me any day, but I’m stunned that he is willing to act like this and show any level of PDA on a public sidewalk while everyone is rushing to work. "I don't wanna break up with you, god no. But I love you and if you're in pain because of what I'm doing then I don't want you to go through that.”

"I don't wanna leave you. I'm not in pain, Spencer," I reach my trembling fingers forward and place them at his waistline, clutching the soft fabric of his cardigan. "I've lost people. And I love you so much. I don't wanna lose you like I've lost everyone else in my life but I don't wanna leave you. That's the last thing I wanna do. I just want you to be safe and I want you to come home to me, that's all I want."

"I will, I always will. But like I said, just go to your studio and focus on your work. I’ll text and call when I can, but I want you to worry about yourself. Do all the work you didn’t get to do when you were taking care of me. And thanks for that, by the way." Spencer brings his lips down to mine again, thumbs brushing against my cheekbones. I hold him there for longer than we probably should be kissing on a public sidewalk, but as people rush past us on their commute to work, I keep my focus on him. "Let's go, come on, I need my coffee and you need your tea."

Spencer grabs my hand again and pulls me along the sidewalk, dodging hurrying businessmen in tight suits. I'm glad Spencer doesn't wear suits to work, not like his unit chief. I'm sure he'd look incredibly attractive in them, but I like his style. Focus, Amelia. Your boyfriend is about to return to the job that got him shot. Stop thinking about his outfits and his sense of style. Get your head out of your ass.

Spencer orders both of our drinks and then brings me over to our normal booth, and I usually sit across from him, but today, I sit on the same side as him. He doesn't seem to mind, though, as he pulls his messenger bag off his shoulder and places his hand on my thigh. I lean my head onto his shoulder and let my eyes close, letting the warmth from the cup in my hand and Spencer’s hand on my leg spread to the rest of my body.

"Are you nervous to go back?" I finally ask the question that's been on the tip of my tongue all morning. Well, maybe it’s not the only question I’ve been dying to ask. There are a million other questions that I could ask and none of them would feel right. Not to say that this one is the right one, but this one seems natural.

Spencer hums. "I try not to let myself get nervous because then I make mistakes and I can't afford mistakes. I block out nerves. I'm not happy to be leaving you because I've loved spending six weeks with you, but I'm excited to be getting back to work and-"

"Helping people," I finish for him. Spencer nods and goes quiet again. My other questions are swirling around in my head and as much as I tell myself to shut them out, they don’t stop. "I have another question. It’s an, um, an odd question."

"And what would that be?”

"I know I'm not the profiler here," he chuckles as I shift around to face him, "but I've noticed that you never wear your gun around me. You wear your holster but not your gun. When I go to see Penelope at the BAU, everyone has their guns, even outside the buildings. Your team had their guns in the hospital, even Mike always had his gun on him at home. Why don't you?"

Spencer hums once more, taking a moment to think through his answer. The silence makes me regret asking the question. I’m dying to know, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Is Spencer uncomfortable? Is that why he’s quiet? "I don't think I really need to. I don't feel the need to subject you to the constant presence of a gun.”

"It doesn't bother me," I tell him softly, tracing my finger around the rim of my cup. I avoid eye contact. "I've seen worse than a gun. I can shoot a gun, did I tell you that?"

Spencer's eyebrows shoot up. "Um, no. You didn't tell me that. I want to ask why you know how to shoot a gun but I don’t think I want to know the answer.”

"I'm not that good at it," I take a sip of my piping hot tea, shrugging my shoulders in a way that is far too nonchalant for this conversation. "Mike taught me a few years ago. Self-defense and all. He actually came to me about it. I was the oldest kid in the house so if anything were to happen when he wasn’t around, I’d know how to shoot one of his spare guns."

Spencer gingerly places his cup on the table, pulling his hand away from my thigh and placing them in his lap. "Just because you know how to shoot a gun doesn't mean I have to go around, parading mine on my hip whenever you're around."

"Have you ever noticed," I ignore his insistence of my innocent, angel personality, "that I don't cool down my tea?"

Spencer taps his fingers against the table, not even looking at me. "Yeah, actually, I have noticed that."

I glance around the emptying cafe and notice that the booths around us are empty and nobody is in earshot. "When I did ‘bad things’ like get a snack during the night or come home thirty seconds late from school or ask what was for dinner, my dad used to hold me down, force open my mouth, pull out my tongue and hold it out, and pour hot sauce on it. It basically fried my tongue to the point where the heat from a cup of tea or coup doesn’t bother me. It’s nothing compared to what I’m used to. I spent my childhood getting hot sauce on my tongue and getting cigarette burns all over my body. I’ve done things and seen some pretty fucked up things throughout my life and, frankly, seeing a gun on your hip won't affect me more than seeing a tattoo of my dead brother on my arm will."

Spencer grabs onto my arm, gentler than ever, tracing his fingers over a few tattoos- the ones I didn’t tell him about. With my spare hand, I grab my tea and take another sip. “Those five are for my foster homes.”

“Your foster homes? You hated them. Why would you get them tattooed?”

“Because they’re apart of me,” I shrug one more time and twist my arm around in Spencer’s grasp. “The cactus is from when I lived in Arizona. Pretty self-explanatory. The book is from one house I lived in right next to a library and I would sneak out at night and break into the book drop off bin and read the books that people were returning. The bumblebee is from a house with a wasps nest in the backyard, and it’s where I found out I’m allergic to bee stings. The turtle is from when the house had a pet turtle. And the heart is from a house I lived in where they had this weird metal replica of a heart, and my foster brother at the time broke it and we all got beat up for it. So there, now you know about all my tattoos and about most of my shitty childhood.” Just in time, the alarm on my phone goes off. "You've gotta go," I collect my cup and my phone, slipping out of the booth and stomping towards the door.

Spencer follows after me quickly, his long legs carrying him over to me at record speed. And despite the negative energy radiating off of me, Spencer laces his pinky with mine as I start to walk towards the train. Our laced pinkies are such a tiny gesture but it fills my body with so much love and warmth that my ears tear up. Spencer doesn’t say anything about my bad attitude or the new information I just blurted out. He just pulls me closer to his body and swings our arms between us. When we get to the metro station, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to go down the stairs. He wraps me in his arms and holds me as tight as he can.

"Be careful, okay?" I tuck my face into the crook of his neck and inhale his scent, an intoxicating combination of coffee, peppermint, and some musky cologne. Spencer kisses the top of my head and squeezes my waist. "I love you so, so much. I don't want another call from Penelope that you're in the hospital, okay? No more of that.”

Spencer nods against me. “No more of that,” he confirms.

“Do you promise?”

"Of course, I promise."

///

SPENCER

///

It's refreshing to finally be back in the BAU after six weeks off with the girl I love, but my mind is racing and part of me can't even enjoy being back. The elevator doors open and I easily spot Morgan and JJ chatting in the bullpen through the glass doors, but I take a sharp right. I knock quickly on Garcia's door, waiting to hear her shout before opening.

She gasps and grins when I enter, jumping out of her chair to come give me a hug. "It's so good to see you, Spencer! How are you feeling? How's Amelia? How was it spending six weeks together?"

"I'm fine, she's amazing, and six weeks off was great and I'm happy to be back. But I need you to do something for me." I speak quickly, far too scatterbrained to hold off on my train of thought.

"Oh," she looks a bit stunned as she nods and hurries back to her computer. "I'm at your service, Boy Wonder."

"Okay," I lean over her chair with a heavy sigh as the guilt starts to weigh on me. "I, um, I need you to look up the case that Amelia was involved in."

Garcia whips her head back to me, her eyes wide. "She told you about that?"

"Yeah, she did. And I need you to look it up."

"But why?" Garcia whines as she types in Amelia's name. "I feel icky when I look up my friends and family. I don't like poking into their lives. I already unsealed the court documents from when Rossi made me look them up and I felt absolutely horrible about that."

I lean in closer to read the screen when a whole load of documents and paperwork pop up. "Alright. Damien Kelsey was arrested by Gideon and Rossi, and Amelia was taken to a foster home. He was found guilty on thirty-seven counts of murder on women but he was-"

"Oh my god," Garcia's eyes widen, her hands stilling over her keyboard.

"Print all this information out for me," I demand without meaning to sound so rude, but I barely even give it a second thought as I go storming out of Garcia's lair. I throw open the doors to the bullpen, my eyes locked on one particular closed door. My blood boils hotter than ever before and my hands ball up into fists. Morgan and JJ both greet me from their desks but I ignore them, instead throwing open Rossi's door and then slamming it closed.

Rossi, understandably, looks alarmed as I enter. I can't help the anger that bubbles up in me, but I don't even think it's aimed at him. I think I'm just angry at the world. I just want to wrap Amelia up in my arms and protect her in my arms. From the moment I met her, I just wanted to protect her. I wanted to keep her out of my insane job and to put her in a bubble of innocence and happiness. But knowing that her innocence has already been tainted and her childhood was ruined makes my heart hurt more than it already does.

"Reid?" Rossi stands from his desk, brows furrowed. "What's going on?"

"Damien Kelsey.”

Rossi sighs, relaxing back into his chair and crossing his arms. "So Amelia told you about her father."

"Yeah, she did. But she didn’t tell me,” I slam a stack of papers on the desk in front of him, “this. And this seems pretty damn important.”

"Reid, take a seat, please," Rossi states, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. But when I don't, he knows it's not worth it to continue to harp on it. "I’m aware of this and it’s being dealt with.”

“It’s being dealt with? For over a decade?” I snap. “This is something that should be done already!”

A knock on the door interrupts us, and Garcia pops her head in. "Sorry to end this very loud conversation, but I have some questions about what dessert I should be bringing tomorrow. Chocolate chip cookies or apple fritters?”

I whip my head back to Rossi, pointing at the papers on his desk. “This conversation isn’t over.”

AMELIA

I took Spencer’s advice and went straight to my art studio after he disappeared into the train station. I desperately needed something to distract me and working usually does the trick. So I rush a few blocks over and throw on an apron, getting to work. I haven’t done much work, other than simple drawings, the last few weeks and it’s nice to get back to the thing I love. I guess that’s how Spencer feels about going back to work today. Maybe I should have been more accepting and supportive of his return to the BAU.

I lose myself in my work, tossing paint at a canvas and creating everything I possibly can in the shortest amount of time. I’m not sure when my time here could be interrupted so I try to get all of my thoughts onto canvas before I have to leave. I’m there for hours and hours before taking a break even crosses my mind. So I collapse into the bean bag chair in the corner of the room and take a break for the first time all day.

Now, Penelope Garcia is an absolute master at what she does. I’ve seen her in action a few times and I’ve heard plenty of stories from Spencer about how she solves a case and finds an unsub just in time to save a life. Penelope Garcia has never been to my studio before but I become momentarily convinced that she broke in and installed cameras to watch me because the second I sit down to take a break, she calls me.

“Hello, my love,” I greet her sweetly. “How is going at the BAU today?”

“Hello, Girl Wonder! It is going great at the BAU today. So far, it’s been a paperwork day and I’ve been bored so I wanted to call you to check up on my new best friend.”

Oh, thank god. It’s a paperwork day. Hopefully, it’ll stay that way and I’ll get to spend the night with Spencer.

“Oh, that’s sweet, Penny. I’m doing pretty well. I’m at my studio right now and working on some new pieces. I haven’t really been able to work lately so I’m cramming all my thoughts into a few hours,” I take a glance around my studio, or more specifically, at the paint splatters on the wall and the brushes on the floor, “or actually, just making a total mess.”

“I’m not the best painter so you should teach me how to paint. Oh! Oh! I know! You should teach a paint night for the BAU! That would be so much fun. And maybe you could do it at Rossi’s dinner party tomorrow!”

“Dinner party?”

“Oh, yeah,” Penelope’s voice drops slightly. “Spencer didn’t tell you about that?”

“No, he didn’t.” A pout creeps onto my face. Maybe I really, truly annoyed him this morning with my excessive worrying. I’m only trying to protect him, he has to know that. Or there’s a possibility that he doesn’t want me at the dinner. He could want to hang out with his coworkers without me. After all, we did spend six weeks straight together. Maybe he needs a little break, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it still hurts a little that he didn’t tell me about it, whether he decides to invite me or not.

“Well, Rossi only invited us today and we all know Boy Wonder isn’t fond of technology, so maybe he’s planning on asking you in person. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. But, hey! That paint night. What do you think?”

SPENCER

I drag my feet up the steps of the metro, into the chilled air of the night, taking a quick glance of my surroundings with my tired eyes. The moonlight creates the path back to my apartment, and the closer I get, the more excited I become to getting into bed. Despite it being a paperwork day, I had a mountain of work to do that didn’t get done while I was on medical leave, and it needed to be finished asap. So it’s just passing eight o’clock when I drag myself up the stairs to my apartment, constantly pulling the falling strap of my satchel up my arm. The last time it falls, I let my bag fall completely onto the floor, fishing through the pocket to find my keys.

I enter my dark apartment and throw my satchel aside and hang up my jacket, locking up my gun in a safe and kicking off my shoes. I drag my feet into the kitchen, hopefully for some dinner, flicking the light switch as I walk in. I have every intention of heading to the fridge but first, I find a container of food from my favorite restaurant on the table. Beside it, a note from Amelia.

I ordered dinner for us before I knew you were going to be late, so this is yours. I’m going to try and stay up for when you return but I’m really tired so I might not make it. So if I’m knocked out by the time you get home, then I love you and I missed you a lot today!! Now come give me attention!!!!!!!

Love, Lia <3

My socked feet are silent against the hardwood as I tiptoe into the living room, finding my sleeping girlfriend on the couch, wrapped up in a plaid blanket with her feet sticking out of the bottom. Her laptop is on the coffee table in front of her, displaying the title screen for a show called Lucifer that she had been telling me about the other day. I watched a few episodes with Amelia during my medical leave but I couldn’t get over the unlikeliness that a biblical figure could have the powers to slow time on Earth or that a human could have a baby with a biblical figure that isn’t even a human. Amelia banned me from watching the show again.

I crouch down beside the couch and bring my hand to Amelia’s cheek, stroking my thumb along her cheekbone. "Amelia," I whisper, only seeing her eyes flutter in the slightest, "sweet girl, wake up."

She hums, scrunching up her nose, and before coming to, eyelids fluttering again before opening. She smiles softly, wiggling her hips to turn to me. "Hi, baby."

"Hi," I whisper back. "Come to bed. I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep too. Don't sleep on the couch."

"Did you eat?" Amelia murmurs, her hand trailing up to rest atop mine. She twists her head and presses a kiss to my palm, pulling my hand down so she can clutch it against her chest. "I left you-"

"Shh, shh," I hush her softly. "I'm really tired. So let's just go to bed, okay? C'mon, pretty girl."

Amelia smiles lazily, sitting up and letting me push the blanket away from her. "I like when you call me that."

I chuckle, standing and holding my hands out for her. I pull her off the couch and right into my arms, tucking her head under my chin and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "Pet names are usually your thing."

I lead her off to my bedroom and she goes crawling into bed, leaving me to change into my pajamas. I do that as quickly as I can and then slip under the duvet with Amelia. She immediately scoots backward until her back is pressed to my front and until she’s almost completely on my pillow. I move her hair aside so it’s not in my face and press a kiss to the side of her neck, and she lets out a cute noise in response.

“I’m sorry if I annoyed you this morning,” Amelia whispers, reaching behind her to place her hand on my cheek. Just like she had done to me, I turn my head and press a kiss to Amelia’s palm. “I was just worried about you. And I’m sorry for being an asshole when I just blurted out all that stuff about my foster homes and my dad.”

“You weren’t annoying at all. I know you were worried. And you weren’t being an- well, you know what. You were worried and anxious for me and I understand that.” Amelia just hums in response, nodding softly against my chest. “But hey, are you busy tomorrow night?”

“Asking me on a date, Doctor?”

“Almost,” I chuckle. “Rossi is having the team over for dinner and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Penelope told me about this today. She called me,” Amelia mumbles. She rolls over to face but tucks her head into the crook of my neck, leaving a few kisses right over my pulse point. “I’d love to go with you.”

“Great. You can meet our new team member. Her name is Kate, she’s pretty awesome.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Is there a dress code?” I laugh again, pressing a kiss to Amelia’s forehead that makes her join my giggles. “It’s important, Spence! I can’t show up in heels if everyone else is wearing sweats. That is my worst nightmare.”

“Of course it is,” I quip. “Text Penelope and ask her. I’ll probably just wear the same boring outfits I wear everyday.”

“Hey,” Amelia finally opens her eyes again and looks up at me, “I love the way you dress. It’s not boring. You’re fucking adorable with your button ups and cardigans and ties and fun socks.”

I ignore the sentiment behind her statement and instead furrow my eyebrows. “You call them button ups?”

I can barely see her face in the darkness of my bedroom but I can still make out her expressions, and she furrows her eyebrows right back at me. “Well, what do you call them?”

“Button downs.”

“You’re wrong. That’s so wrong, baby.”

“I can’t remember the last time someone told me I was wrong, and I remember everything.” And this time, I see the corners of Amelia’s lips tip upwards, and an adorable smile graces her face. “But yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Damn right I am, Doctor 187.”

///

"Come on, Amelia! We're already late!" I call up the stairs where my girlfriend is hastily getting ready for dinner.

"Coming!" She calls back, but her voice sounds distant. She has been telling me for an hour that she will be ready in five minutes but clearly, she hasn’t been telling me the truth.

While I'm still waiting for her to finish getting dressed, I wander into the living room to take the record out of the player and tuck it away safely. I make sure that it goes back in the correct place because I don’t want to face Amelia if I mess up her record organization. Amelia's apartment has become like a second home to me over the last few months of our relationship and I’m so grateful to have a safe place like this. Whenever I step foot through the door, I’m enveloped in a certain warmth that only Amelia can provide for me. The plants and the fuzzy blankets and the records that are constantly playing and the artwork on the walls and the balcony with yellow Adirondack chairs and, of course, the girl that the apartment comes with make for the perfect escape from my job. I always thought that my apartment was enough of an escape, and then I came to Amelia’s apartment for Christmas and suddenly, I never wanted to leave.

Amelia comes barreling down the stairs a moment later, her black heeled boots in her hand. She pauses at the door of the stairs and smiles nervously at me, holding her hands out as if to present herself to me. "Do I look okay?"

I don't even know why she asks because she always looks absolutely stunning, no matter what her outfit is. She's wearing a simple black dress that hugs her body in the most beautiful ways, showing off her array of colorful tattoos. She is, of course, wearing her butterfly necklace and her clusters of rings, nails painted yellow again. Her blonde hair is straightened and she has a scarf tied in her hair like a headband with a few pieces of hair pulled out to frame her face. I swear, whenever I see her, I'm speechless. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful human in my life.

"You look gorgeous, love, you always do," I compliment, holding my hand out for her to grab onto so she doesn’t tip over when putting her shoes on, "but aren't you gonna get cold when it gets dark?"

Amelia shrugs and swats her hand at me nonchalantly, grabbing her backpack and camera from the staircase banister. "I'll be fine. Let's get going. I can't believe you're driving! This is so rare!" She throws a smile over her shoulder when she walks past me, leaning over to press a kiss to my cheek. "If Penelope lied to me and there's no wine here tonight-"

"There's gonna be wine," I insist, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the building. "Rossi always has wine."

///

"You made it!" Rossi grins as he pulls open his front door. "And you've brought Amelia. Good choice," he pulls the two of us in for a hug, prompting Amelia to compliment him on his house. "Alright, you two, into the backyard. Everyone else is already there."

I give Amelia a look as if to shame her for taking so long to get dressed, and she just shoves my shoulder. She murmurs something under her breath that I don’t quite hear, but I wouldn’t have had time to ask anyway because we’ve joined everyone in the backyard a moment.

"Yes!" Garcia immediately cheers, running over as fast as she can on her ridiculously high heels and pulling Amelia into a hug. "I knew it! I knew you'd make it and Reid would tell you about this and you'd get to drink lovely wine with us. I knew it!"

Amelia laughs as she hugs Penelope back, pulling away only to be pulled back in. "It's nice to see you too, P."

"You've gotta meet everyone!" Penelope exclaims and almost spills liquid from the glass I'm realizing is in her hand. I find myself wondering how much she's already had to drink. Amelia glances over her shoulder at me desperately as Garcia drags her away and over to the long table that's set up. She's introduced formally to the team, yet again, along with Savannah, Beth, Sam, Will, and Chris. And of course, she takes the time to introduce herself to Kate. She's always been good at talking to people, unlike me, so a glass of wine is thrust in her hand and she's enveloped in conversation. But I linger on the porch, just admiring how easily she bonds with everyone and how her face lights up when Savannah cracks a joke.

"How's it going, Pretty Boy?" Morgan is at my side, patting my shoulder with a teasing smirk that I saw all day today. He spent the last two days asking me how my medical leave was and if I finally sealed the deal with Amelia. His prying would have considered invasive if I wasn’t so used to it already. "You brought your girl."

"And she's already been taken away from me," I cross my arm, watching her take a long sip of her wine before turning her head to Hotch and Beth. "At least she's getting along with everyone."

"Yeah," Morgan sighs and the mood instantly drops. "Listen, I don't know what happened with the whole situation where Rossi recognized her and-"

"Morgan-" I try to interject, but he shakes his head.

"Kid, I don't wanna know, that's what I'm saying. You two seem to be over it, and if you're happy, then I'm happy for you. You seem to trust her so that’s all that matters. She seems like a good girl for you. She makes you happy."

I turn my gaze back to her and my heart flutters as she twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, holding her wine glass in her hand delicately. She looks too beautiful for anyone’s good in her stupid, tight black dress and heels that make her legs look as long as mine. "She does."

"I gotta be honest," he chuckles lightly. "I didn't expect you to shoot for a girl with a nose piercing and two arms of tattoos but I'm not complaining."

"Uncle Spencer!" Our conversation is fully stopped by a little voice, and Henry comes barreling over, having broken away from JJ's hold. My face lights up as he comes jumping into my arms, crouching down to catch him. Morgan pats my shoulder again, heading to the table to leave us alone.

"Hi, Henry!" I exclaim, hugging him tightly. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

Henry giggles, his head falling onto my shoulder in the most adorable way. "I missed you, Uncle Spencer."

"I missed you too, Henry." I smile, ruffling his hair. He pushes my hands away with a giggle and pushes his own long hair behind his ears. "Did you meet my girlfriend?"

Henry's eyes widen as he lifts his head. "You have a girlfriend?"

I hold in my laugh at his astonishment as I nod, bringing his attention to where Amelia is now standing with Penelope and Sam, chatting away. "That's her, right there. With the blonde hair and the black dress. Her name is Amelia."

Henry lifts his head even more to get a good look at her, and just as he does, Amelia turns her head to look back at us. As she does, Henry gasps and whips his head back to face me. "She saw me!" His eyes widen and he puts his tiny hands on my cheeks. I mimic his surprised expression and I see Amelia excusing herself from her conversation to walk back over to us. Henry turns his head slowly to peer back at her, and when he sees that she's walking to us, he gasps again. "She's coming!"

Amelia gets to us with a huge smile towards Henry, setting her glass of wine on the table. "Hi!"

"Say hi, bud," I prompt as he drops his hands back to my shoulders again. Henry gives me a nervous glance and only turns his head slightly towards Amelia.

"Hi, Amelia," he says, waving just a tiny bit.

"Hi, Henry," Amelia grins. "I've heard a lot about you from Spencer. He tells me that you're the coolest kid he knows."

Henry's eyes light up and a small smile plays at his lips. "He did?"

"Oh yeah, he totally did," she nods confidently. I have to admit, I've never seen her interact with children before, but I could watch this all day. Where did her love of children even come from? Did it come from Cody? Or did it come from protecting her foster siblings from abusive parents?

Henry is silent for a moment and I can tell he's noticing Amelia's tattoos. He points at her arm. "You've got drawings all over your arms!"

Amelia looks down at her arms as if she's forgotten she has tattoos, nodding "I do. Super cool, right?" Henry nods. "I'm an artist, I drew some of these. So that means I draw and paint pictures as a job.”

"That's awesome!" Henry exclaims, his face lighting up even brighter than before. "Could you draw me some pictures?"

"Of course I could!" Amelia immediately exclaims. "I always have pencils and a sketchbook with me. Let's go, bud," she gives me a cute smile and I place him on the floor, letting the two go off on their own. I watch them for just a moment as Amelia grabs her backpack to pull out her pencils and sketchbook before finding a good place to sit with Henry.

"Wow," JJ is the next person to materialize at my side, "I've never seen him gravitate towards someone so quickly. And I've never seen him leave your side so quick," The two of us watch as Jack runs up and joins the two of them, sitting on Amelia's unoccupied side and peering over her arm at her sketchbook. She greets Jack and then gets back to work, listening to every demand the boys have over what she should draw. "C'mon, Spence, come join everyone."

JJ grabs my arm and drags me over to the table with everyone else, sitting me down beside her. It's nice to see everyone outside of work every once in a while, especially after such a stressful stretch of a few months. I'm not one to admit that I need relaxation but I definitely needed a night like this with everyone. I especially needed a night with my friends and my girlfriend getting along. My biggest fear is that everyone on the team would reject her after her moment with Rossi. But they seem to love her, even the kids love her, and I’m just so relieved.

After a little while, the boys come sprinting over, waving their drawings in their hands as they rave to their parents. Amelia returns to me with a proud smile, claiming the seat next to me and scooting as close as she can. She leans into my chest and I leave a kiss on her temple, and the purr-like sound that she makes brings a smile to my face.

"Dinner," Rossi announces, "is served."

///

"Have you ever played rummy?" I drag my eyes up and down Amelia's body as she comes to sit next to me after helping Rossi with the cleanup of plates. She's got her second glass of wine in her hand and my jacket wrapped around her shoulders, hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. She starting scooting closer to me during dinner, and it took me all of a millisecond to realize that she was cold and when she told me that she was wrong about not needing a jacket, I happily gave her mine.

"No, actually. I haven't. Will you teach me?" She presses her face into my arm, one of her hands clutching her glass of wine and the other finding home on my thigh. I have to resist the urge to squirm around when her thumb strokes my leg atop my pants. I’ve noticed that she has been nursing her second glass of wine for quite a while so it’s unlikely she is too drunk to realize the effect her touch is having on me. But she doesn’t really pay any attention to it when I shift my position in my chair.

"Yeah, of course," I clear my throat and grab our little stack of cards, spreading them out in my hands. I look down at Amelia to find she’s already looking at me. Her eyes are half shut and her lips are pouted just slightly, enough to make it necessary for me to lean down and kiss her. "And you've got the best teacher, too."

"Pretty boy's banned from casinos in, as I remember it, Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump," Morgan interjects, earning a slap on the arm from Savannah for interrupting.

"So we need to be collecting cards based on the rounds," I tell her and she nods. "For the first round, we need to sets of threes, get it? We need two sets of three cards with the same number, any suit, red or black."

"Not too hard," she takes a sip of her drink and starts silently arranging the cards in my hands as I've instructed. I go on to explain the concept of taking cards out of turn and then how to lay down cards and then how to win a round. She's nodding but I'm not sure if she's retaining any of this information, but I could win this game blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back so it's not a big deal. All I’m worried about is Amelia keeping her hands on me and getting her home soon.

The game starts and we take the lead immediately, but it’s not like anyone is surprised. And it takes about an hour but, sure enough, Amelia and I win rummy. The win is followed by rolled eyes and groans, and a few stolen kisses between us when everyone starts cleaning up. It's odd, I think, to have someone to be affectionate with during a team dinner. I've spent years being alone at team dinners and I've watched everyone with their significant others and wished I could have that. But now I've got the most amazing girl at my side who I'm head over heels in love with who I'm certain I'm gonna have for the rest of my life.

"Spence?" Amelia's soft voice breaks me out of my lovestruck daze. She places her empty wine glass in the sink beside me, pulling my jacket tighter around her shoulders. "Are we leaving?"

I smile, nodding as I run my hands up and down her arms. "Yeah," I dig into my pocket and hand her my keys, "get in the car. I've gotta ask Rossi a work question and I'll be right out. Don't drive away.”

“I won’t,” she giggles, going up on her toes to kiss me. Her lips taste like wine and her tongue tastes like chocolate and it’s such an intoxicating taste that I kiss her like we’re not in the middle of Rossi’s kitchen. Amelia’s hands come up to my stomach, grasping my shirt for a split second before she pulls away. Her hands come up to my face and her thumb swipes away a little bit of lip gloss from the corner of my mouth before she abruptly turns on her heel and struts away. I watch her hips sway when she walks, all the way until she gets to JJ and Henry, saying goodbye and exchanging phone numbers with the ladies of my team.

Once Amelia is out of my sight, I make my way down the hallway and into Rossi’s office, closing the door behind me.

AMELIA

I collapse into the passenger seat of Spencer’s car, putting the keys in the ignition and turning the heat up. I tug my shoes off and toss them onto the floor, spreading out my toes and stretching them out for the first time in hours. The driver side door opens a second later and Spencer slips in, watching me massage my feet for a second. “I don’t know why you insist on wearing those everywhere if they just make your feet hurt.”

“Because they complete the whole outfit, bubs,” I sass right back at him as we both put on our seatbelts. “Are we going back to my apartment or yours?”

“Yours, if that’s okay. I have my go-bag so I can change before work tomorrow,” Spencer puts the car into drives and speeds off. I can’t take my eyes off of him when he drives. The way his biceps flex as he grips the wheel or the way he elongates his neck when he looks over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars.

When he stops at a red light, he reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh, the same way I had done to him during cards. Spencer smiles over at me with the most innocent look, and it almost takes my breath away. I open my mouth to speak but he starts driving before I can say anything. His hand tightens and releases its grip every few seconds, and by the time we arrive at my apartment, I’m barely able to sit straight. I practically trip out of the car and hurry upstairs, Spencer hot on my heels.

The tension that we’ve been building the last few hours is looming over us, and as we stroll up the stairs to my bedroom, I can feel Spencer staring me down. I do what I can to ignore his burning gaze but the attention is addicting and it feels involuntary when I sway my hips in the same way that got him a little too excited before.

Once we reach the top step, Spencer’s hand grasp onto my waistline and he pulls me into his chest. He ducks his head to place a kiss on the side of my neck, already reaching to pull his jacket off of my body. “Is this okay?” He murmurs, lips brushing against my skin.

“Yes,” I roll my shoulders back to let the jacket fall to the floor, then I twist around in Spencer’s arms to start pulling at his shirt. I tug him towards the bed and fall backwards, bringing him down with me. He catches himself before he bares all of his weight on me, sitting up on his knees and staing down at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“Are you sure this is okay? I know you were drinking tonight and I don’t want to take advantage.”

“I’m not drunk and you’re not taking advantage,” I grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss, feeling him shuffle around to undo the buttons of his shirt and toss it onto the ground. His shoes, socks, and belt follow, and when he is almost completely undressed, he pulls away from my lips.

His fingers trail up my thgihs and to the hem of my dress, slowly pushing it upwards. My breath hitches as the dress gets to my hips, and Spencer immediately stops. “Do you not want me to take your dress off? I can leave it on.”

“No, well, I-”

“No?”

“Yes!” I place my hands on Spencer’s shoulders and take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. Spencer’s hands move from the hem of my dress to my waistline. “I just, well, I usually keep a shirt or a sweater on when I have sex. It’s just-”

“You don’t have to take your clothes off if you don’t want to. We don’t even need to continue if you’re uncomfortable,” Spencer leans down to press a kiss to my nose, and that tiny act brings a smile to my face. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I parrot his sweet words, leaning up on my elbows to peck his lips. “I trust you.” It’s more of a statement for me then for Spencer. I just needed to reassure myself that this is my Spencer. My Spencer who stumbled over his words when we first met and my Spencer who still sometimes asks just to kiss me. He’s not like the other assholes I’ve dealt with. He’s special.

So I wiggle from under Spencer and stand at the foot of the bed. I’m flustered for a second as Spencer lays on his back and tucks his hands behind his head, his chest completely on display for me. But I drag myself away from my thoughts and unzips my dress, letting it fall to the floor with trembling hands. And while I have the tiniest bit of confidence in myself, I unclip my bra and let it join my dress.

Spencer’s face grows into a grin, sitting up and grasping my waist again. His touch calms all my nerves and momentarily makes me forget that he’s the first man to ever see me like this. He’s the first man I’ve ever let myself be completely vulnerable around. He is the first person I let see my scars and my piercings and as terrifying as it is, his soft gaze makes my anxiety drift away.

He traces his fingers over one of the scars on my stomach, then drags it down to the silver jewel in my bellybutton. “I didn’t know you had piercings.” I reclaim my spot on Spencer’s lap and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing my lips down to his in an attempt to silence the conversation. It works because Spencer is shimmying out of his pants and tossing them haphazardly away.

Spencer flips us over so I’m pinned under him, his lips traveling down to the metal bars in my nipples. “You’re so beautiful, Lia.” He presses his lips to each and every scar on my stomach before grazing his teeth on the hem of my panties. “You can tell me if you ever want to stop, okay?”

I really and truly never thought I’d ever fall in love with someone like Spencer. I never thought that I’d fall in love at all. I thought that all men would be like the asshole I lost my virginity to, who laughed at my crooked bellybutton ring and asked countless questions about the scars that I didn’t want to talk about.

I didn’t think I’d find anyone as amazing as the man above me right now. I didn’t think I’d find anyone as amazing as the man who kisses me with every thrust of his hips and brushes my hair behind my ears and listens to the way my body speaks. He double and triple checks that the condom is on correctly and asks if I need to use lube. He touches me in every spot that craves attention and switches our position when my legs cramp up. He intertwines our fingers and circles my clit when I ask him to. Spencer is the sweetest lover and, even when we’ve both worked our bodies to exhaustion, he rolls over and presses kisses over the hickeys he left on my neck. I try to lift myself on my elbows to clean myself up, but Spencer pushes my shoulders back down. He tells me to stay there, then returns from the bathroom with a towel to clean me up.

“Are you okay?” Spencer wonders, pulling the duvet over the both of us after tossing the towel back into the bathroom. “Do you need anything?”

I roll onto my side and bury my face in Spencer’s neck, still struggling to catch my breath. “Spencer, no man has ever made me cum. Ever. Much less three times.”

Spencer furrows his eyebrows, pushing my hair out of my face and tracing his fingers over the bruises on my neck. “Was it too much?”

“No! Oh my god, no, dove. That was absolutely amazing,” I pull his hand away from my neck and kiss his palm, scooting as close as I possibly can to his body and soak up the warmth that radiates off of him. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too.” Spencer presses a kiss to my swollen lips and even though his body language does the opposite, he pulls away from me. “I hate to ruin the moment but you should go to the bathroom. You’re more likely to get a UTI and if a UTI goes untreated it can cause a kidney infection. It’s a common myth to think that a UTI can turn into an STI like chlamydia, but that’s completely not true.”

I hold back my giggle, running my fingers through Spencer’s sweaty hair, pushing it away from his eyes the same way he does to me. “Dirty talk is your strong suit.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Spencer raises his eyebrows at me as I start to climb out of bed and wander towards the bathroom. “Was it not good?”

“I’m only joking, sweet face. You were amazing. The best I’ve ever had.”

Spencer grins the proudest grin I’ve ever seen. “Really?”

“I just told you that no man has ever made me cum but that you made me cum three times. Yes, you’re the best.”

“Hmm,” he hums, falling onto his back again and tucking his hands behind his head, “yeah. I’m the best.”

I lean over the bed one more time and kiss Spencer’s cheek. “You’re adorable, dove.”

TAGLIST

@bxnnywriting @babybloodstonebones @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @goldenalvez @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrryspencer @m0rcia @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @blakes-dictionxry @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @jasongideonapologist

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #nikos north fic #nikos writing #spencer reid fanfiction #dr reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x oc

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kiranatrix · 4 years ago

Text

Backup

Written by @kiranatrix and @ghostoftasslehoff

For @wammyweek Day 1- Character Origins/Before Wammy’s Summary: Quillsh Wammy visits a Romanian orphanage after hearing of a 5-year old boy with a facility for codebreaking, but will have to deal a little dirty to pry the orphan from the hands of the nuns.

Characters: Beyond Birthday, Quillsh Wammy (Watari), minor OCs

Rating: Mild T for references to children in poverty circumstances, less than upstanding nuns, and a dash of angst

Authors’ notes: Dialogue in bold is spoken in Romanian. Beyond has three names: the name he was given by the nuns (Bogdi), the name he picks and tells Quillsh (Beyond), and his true name (Bernael). Bogdi is a derivative of Bogdan and means ‘given by God.’ Bernael is the name of a fallen angel (Beyond is part shinigami in this story). Mr. Wren is Quillsh Wammy’s alias.

Sister Maricica adjusted her habit as she led the English gentleman, Mr. Wren, through the high crumbling stone arches of the courtyard and towards the Day Room of the orphanage. “This way. The children playing now.” Her English was far from perfect but she enunciated each word crisply, walking quite fast so the gentleman’s eyes did not linger too long on the poor state of the building. Their convent was always immaculately clean but they ostensibly relied on donations for the orphanage’s survival. Mr. Wren’s offer of a generous adoption fee had created a bit of excitement in the convent and everyone was on alert to put their best face forward. It wasn’t common for them to have international adoptive parents; local ones were rare enough. She looked back at the gentleman to speed him along, inquiring, “And wife? Mrs. Wren?”

Quillsh felt a spark of irritation at the intrusive question, though he of course knew why the woman was asking. He hadn’t been a practicing Catholic in a very long time, but he remembered well the Church’s distaste for ‘practicing homosexuals’. “Sadly, Mrs. Wren had some business to attend to and could not make it.” No need to explain that there IS no Mrs. Wren.

Still, he smiled indulgently at the Sister and sped his steps until he was walking only a couple paces behind, his anticipation lending an air of warmth to his demeanor that he did not feel. “She asked me to send her deepest apologies.”

“A pity, a pity.” She opened the heavy Day Room door and immediately clutched her rosary tightly, mumbling a Hail Mary in Romanian at the disheveled state of the room. She rushed over to a young boy in the corner who was crying and holding a hand over one eye. “Oh, Nicu! What happened to you?”

“Bogdi.” Nicu scowled and pointed an accusing finger at another boy, separate from the others and hunched over an old metal contraption.

Sister Maricica huffed and gave Mr. Wren an apologetic look, her cheeks reddening. “Very sorry, one moment.”

Quillsh nodded, removing his hat and watching the proceedings with great interest. Or rather, watching the young boy who seemed to be the troublemaker. He recognized a code-breaking machine when he saw one. And that is the child I came for, no doubt. He may not be able to understand Romanian, but actions would speak louder here.

The nun trounced over to the other boy and pulled at his arm, whispering severely, “Bogdi! I told you to be on your best behavior today! There’s a very important guest here so get away from that old junk and tell Nicu you’re sorry!”

That’s not my name. “But I’m not sorry, Sister.” The child yanked his arm away and didn’t look up at her, but did shoot a menacing look at Nicu, causing the boy to burst into tears all over again. Tattletale.

Sister Maricica almost looked like she too was about to cry but merely went back to Mr. Wren, slightly more flustered than before. “Very sorry, sir. Bogdi in one of his moods today. Pay no mind.” It was a little white lie and she immediately asked for forgiveness from the Virgin. Bogdi was always in this same mood. She took a deep breath and forced a pleasant smile. “Which child I can tell you about? So many good children. Needing good father like you.” She motioned to the clean but shoddily-clothed children of varying ages playing with old hand-me-down toys. For the most part they seemed relatively content although they perhaps did not realize their deprivation.

Quillsh reached out to rest a hand comfortingly on the nun’s shoulder for a moment, murmuring softly, “No need to apologize.” He turned to survey the room, making a show of considering the other children, even though his mind was already made up. Bogdi. His contact had informed him of the young boy with a brilliant mind for puzzles, languishing away in this derelict orphanage. And already showing exceptional promise with codes. Doesn’t work well with others, if that exchange was anything to go by, but that works well enough for my purposes.

With a smile, he selected one of the other children at random, a young girl with her dark hair in pigtails, tied with faded blue ribbons. “Tell me about that young lady, please, Sister.” Her face lit up, and Quillsh let his expression settle into a mask of pleasant interest as he watched Bogdi out of the corner of his eye.

“Catina! Very good girl, Catina.” Sister Maricica motioned the pre-teen girl over, prompting her to curtsey with a nod. The little girl smiled in a way that was obviously perfunctory, showing several bad teeth. “Sad, so sad. Whole family lost in landslide three years ago. But Catina, she minds very well and good cook, too!” She nodded again and the young girl wandered off to play with her raggedy doll.

The child in the corner was listening intently as several more candidates for adoption were paraded in front of the ‘guest,’ although he didn’t look over at them. Quillsh Wammy. He’d caught the name when the man first walked in. It would have seemed odd if his own name wasn’t the epitome of that. Bernael Antonia Beyondormason. The nuns had given him a new code to crack today so he plugged away at it on the machine, knowing that while someone might get adopted today, it certainly wouldn’t be him.

Quillsh let the facade play through to the end, keeping his expression suitably bland despite the growing satisfaction he felt. It was obvious to him now that Bogdi was the child he had heard about, and just as obvious that the boy was listening very closely, one ear turned towards the conversation. He looked around the room again, asking in a voice pitched to carry clearly to the boy’s ear, “Was that all of them?”

“Ah....yes.” Sister Maricica looked a little like a deer in the headlights, and smiled tightly. “Those are candidates for adoption. No more.” She gave him a worried look, clutching her rosary again before she glanced guiltily at Bogdi.

“Oh?” Quillsh adjusted his spectacles and followed her gaze to Bogdi, pointing at the child. “And what about that young man? Bogdi, you said his name was earlier, yes?” He started to drift towards the boy, pretending ignorance. “What is that he’s playing with, Sister?”

Sister Maricica stiffened, bringing herself up to her full height. “Just old trash found in basement, left over from the war. Bogdi likes to tinker with--”

“It’s a code breaking machine.” Bernael’s small voice somehow carried and silenced the whole room, despite being very soft. He said the words in perfect and unaccented English.

“Hmph!” Sister Maricica shot daggers at the boy although he wasn’t looking up to see them. “Silence or you won’t get your bread tonight, Bogdi.”

“If I don’t get my bread then you don’t get your code.” Berneal smiled down at the machine, making ker-plunk, ker-plunk noises as he mashed the old keys.

Sister Maricica’s face reddened and she tugged at Mr. Wren’s arm, whispering, “Come into office if you want to know about him.”

Quillsh stopped and looked at the nun, then back at Bogdi, diligently poking at the keys. A small smile flickered on his lips briefly before he said slightly more formally, “If you insist, Sister Maricica.” He gestured for her to lead the way and followed, waiting until the woman closed the door to take a seat. “Now then.” He placed his hat on the arm of the chair and folded his hands neatly in his lap, looking Sister Maricica directly in the eye. “If you please, I would like to hear about young Bogdi.”

“Very well.” Sister Maricica took a seat behind the oversized desk, frowning slightly. This was the one child she didn’t want to talk about, that she didn’t want to adopt out. Well, she’d just tell the truth-- no lie would make the boy seem more unappealing. “Bogdi found in dumpster as baby. Brought here five years ago.” Her tone was much more curt than before, her gaze more steely. “Nothing but problems with Bogdi since small child. Fighting, defiance, bad attitude. Destroy the toys, hurt children who cross him. Antisocial. Barely speaks.” And when he did speak, she often wished for silence. She waved her hand dismissively and said, “Odd child. Pick another.”

“I’m quite set on this child.” Quillsh stared at her steadily, all humour gone from his demeanor.

Sister Maricica didn’t flinch. “No.”

Quillsh smiled at the woman; this time, there was nothing pleasant about it. “Oh dear. I had hoped we could come to an arrangement, Sister, but I can see you have no wish to give him up. I would have given you quite a hefty donation to adopt the boy, too. Very well.” He shifted to sit more comfortably, knuckling his salt-and-pepper mustache as if in thought. “I know you have Bogdi working on breaking codes for the Romanian government. That must be quite lucrative. And yet, the state of this orphanage suggests there is very little money coming in.”

Sister Maricica’s eyes went wide, her lips parting slightly in surprise. It was rare for the verbose sister to be rendered speechless, but now, she certainly was.

“Tell me, Sister Maricica, how little are you selling young Bogdi’s work for that the children have such shabby clothes and toys?” Quillsh’s eyes glittered shrewdly, his cold smile widening. “Or are you perhaps keeping the money for yourself?”

“Lies!” The nun affected a suffering expression at the true accusation, and stood up abruptly behind the desk. She planted her palms on the smooth wood and glared at Mr. Wren. “You must leave orphanage now! Not a good Catholic to accuse a nun of such things.”

“As you wish, Sister.” Quillsh placed his hat back on his head, rising from his chair. Pausing, he held up one finger and then patted down the front of his overcoat, a soft, satisfied ‘ahhh’ leaving him. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a slim, leather bound pocketbook, removing a piece of paper and approaching the desk. “But first, perhaps you could tell me what this is.” He placed it on the desk and slid it across to her.

Sister Maricica sputtered as she snatched the paper, a cloud passing over her features as she realized what it was. An invoice for the last five codes Bogdi had broken for Romanian Intelligence, payable specifically to her.

“And please, Sister, don’t bother doing anything so vacuous as to try and destroy it. This is hardly the only copy.” Quillsh looked at her rosary pointedly, which he had noticed upon first glance was made of far finer materials than a nun of her supposed means should be able to afford.

The nun paled at Mr. Wren’s glance, hiding her gold and ruby-encrusted rosary within her habit. There was no use lying about it now; her golden goose was exposed. “I see. Mr. Wren is not who is claimed. But...” She sat down with a sour expression and primly arranged her skirts again. “...we can come to agreement.” She took out a bottle of Țuică and two rose-cut glasses from inside the desk and poured herself and Mr. Wren generous helpings.

“Excellent.” Quillsh smiled and sat back down, taking one of the glasses. He waited until she had taken a sip first to drink any of the sweet alcohol, and then said, “To amicable arrangements.”

---shortly afterwards---

Quillsh Wammy approached Bogdi in the empty Day Room, making sure to take even, clearly audible steps in an attempt to not startle or upset the boy. Stopping a short distance from him, he removed his hat once more and said kindly, “Hello Bogdi. May I sit?” His fingers closed around one of the hard candies he kept in his pockets for just such an occasion, waiting to see if the boy acknowledged him. He will.

Bernael had heard the man coming and had made himself small, thinking he might be in trouble. The sister only went into her office to speak of things the children shouldn’t hear, and he knew they were talking about him. His hearing was better than the nuns knew. He said softly, again in perfect English, “Sit if you like. I have to do this work though.” He looked askance at the hard floor beside him. There were no soft rugs or pillows in the place. The whole orphanage was made of or felt like stone. Still, it was interesting to have someone new here. Someone he didn’t hate yet.

Laughing quietly, Quillsh moved closer and sat down carefully on the floor beside Bogdi. He had always found that meeting children on their level tended to put them at ease, though perhaps Bogdi was different, given the colourful description the Sister had given of the boy’s behavior. “Do you like doing this type of work, Bogdi?” he asked curiously, tugging the candy from his pocket and idly twisting the plastic loose before pausing and offering it to the boy.

Bernael’s fingers stilled on the keys when he smelled sugar, something he’d only had a few times in his short life. The temptation to look was irresistible and he raised his eyes, mouth watering at the sight of the candy. He’d seen pictures in books and knew what it was, but had never had it before. He snatched it immediately and popped the whole thing into his mouth only to gag on the plastic wrapper and spit it out in confusion. He ducked his head in shame and took the candy, methodically unwrapping it before putting it into his mouth again, more carefully this time. “Are you from the code team?” He smiled instinctively at the sweetness, the tangy strawberry taste, and looked up with bright blue eyes. “It’s good.”

“It is good, isn’t it?” Quillsh chuckled more heartily, smiling warmly at the boy. “And no, Bogdi, I’m not from the code team, though your talent in code breaking is what caught my attention.” He knew he needed to be careful not to say too much, but a child so intelligent would not accept dumbed down explanations, either. “I don’t often hear of children as young as yourself who possess such extraordinary aptitude, so I had to come meet you, make sure you were getting the best possible outlet to explore those skills.” He glanced around the room disdainfully. “That is clearly not the case here. But I can give you such an outlet, if you would like to come live in England with me.”

Bernaels eyes flicked above the man’s head. The year Quillsh Wammy would die was far enough in the future that the man might make good on his promises, if he meant them. Sister Maricica would die much sooner than that, and who knows what would become of him then. Even a year would be better than staying here in this boring, white-washed and crumbling down orphanage, and Quillsh had much more than that. “Do you live in a castle?” One thing they did have here was books, mostly religious tomes and morality plays, but fairy tales, too. Sometimes the orphan was saved, brought to a beautiful castle to live and grow up in peace.

The question made Quillsh smile. No, but I’m sure all my charges would love that. “Sadly, not a castle. However, my residence does have a bell tower.”

A bell tower sounded interesting. Bernael eyes leveled with Quillsh’s again, tilting his head to a nearly impossible angle, and he asked plainly, “What will you make me do there?”

“Do?” The question took Quillsh aback, the look in his eyes becoming speculative. If he’s asking questions like THAT, clearly everything he’s known is transactional. “Well. For starters, I can give you much harder codes to break, if that tickles your fancy.” INTERPOL could get a lot of use out of a talent like this if he hones it.

Bernael’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Yes, I like numbers and letters. Puzzles. Everything they give me here is so boring.”

With a smile, Quillsh said softly, “Then you shall receive harder puzzles to stimulate that brilliant mind. Though I suppose we won’t truly know what path you’ll walk until we find out what your particular skills are. Beyond that, we will just have to see.”

“Beyond.” Bernael would never tell this stranger his real name, but he detested the name Bogdi. The nuns named him Bogdi and he needed to shed it, move past it. Yes, I’m Beyond that now. “You may call me Beyond.”

Pausing only a beat, Quillsh nodded. He had heard stranger requests from his charges. “Of course. Beyond it is, then.”

Bernael stood up and looked down at Quillsh with a blank expression, although he wasn’t much higher than eye-level with the crouching adult. “I’ll go live with you, Quillsh.”

Quillsh’s smile was slowly replaced with a surprised expression, his eyes narrowing speculatively behind his spectacles. How does he know my name?

Bernael smiled slowly and gazed past the older man to the Sister’s closed office door and said quietly, “But there’s something I want.”

Twenty minutes later, Bernael was humming happily and sucking on a new piece of candy as they walked to Quillsh’s sleek black sedan. He clutched a certain gold-and-ruby rosary in his small fist as he gave the orphanage one last look. “What’s England like?”

Quillsh held the door open for Beyond to climb in, chuckling under his breath as he closed the door and came around to slide into the driver’s seat. He eyed the boy before starting the vehicle and pulling out into the road. “For starters, the weather is frequently on the wet side. But if you like the outdoors, we do occasionally get nice weather, enough to enjoy the countryside where you’ll be living. And the house is big. A converted church, with lots of rooms to explore, a spacious library, and a big yard.”

Berneal frowned at his reflection in the car window, mumbling, “I don’t want to go to church anymore.” The nuns made them go every day and snapped at him when he couldn’t sit still.

“Oh, I won’t enforce religion on you, Beyond. Church services are not something that happen at Wammy’s House. It’s meant to be more of a… a boarding school for gifted orphans like yourself.”

“Gifted.” Bernael caught Quillsh’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Is that what I am?” He’d never met any other children like him-- children who could see names and numbers above everyone’s heads. When he was smaller, he’d shocked some of the nuns by calling them by their given names instead of their religious ones. The spanking he’d received, and the whispers he might need an exorcism, had been enough to show him he was different. Maybe there were other kids like him in England?

“I would certainly say you are gifted, Beyond.” Quillsh returned his eyes to the road as he went on, “Just in the short time I’ve known you, I see an intelligent, inquisitive and bold young man… and I’m impressed with your skill in the English language. Tell me, how is it you are able to understand and speak English so well when the nuns couldn’t?”

“I dunno.” Berneal pressed his face closer to the glass to watch the forest whizzing by. This was farther than he’d ever been from the orphanage and it was sinking in he really was getting away. “Could always just understand what people say and speak it back. The sisters said it was unholy.” Just another reminder he was different.

“Fascinating.” Quillsh smiled slightly, having a good idea of exactly what the nuns must have thought. “Well, your talent with tongues could make you quite a sought after translator one day, if you wish it.”

Berneal screwed up his face and said, “But then I’d have to talk to people. I don’t like people.” It was truer to say that people didn’t like him, but he didn’t like to think about that. He fiddled with the door locks and the window controls, then unbuckled his seatbelt to crawl around the backseat. “Nobody says anything interesting anyway.”

Quillsh glanced at the rearview mirror again and chuckled when he couldn’t see Beyond. Just like L, goodness. “Then we won’t pursue that route for you, don’t fret.” Beyond might be even MORE restless than L. Something to watch. “And Beyond, please feel free to ask me any questions, but if you would like something else to occupy you instead, there is a compartment in the console with a few things for restless minds. Puzzle books, some fiction novels, a sketchbook and drawing implements. Help yourself to any of them.”

Bernael opened the cubby and rummaged around inside, jamming the brand-new markers into his pockets before perusing the books. A sketchbook contained some crudely drawn dragons and strawberries. One book contained various puzzles and he grabbed that one before climbing into the front passenger seat. “What’s a crossword puzzle?” He flipped through the book and stopped on the last page, which looked like the most complicated puzzle. “Oh. You guess the word from the clue.” He grinned and started scrawling in the answers in terrible handwriting, swinging his short legs from the seat. Some of the clues were pretty tough, or maybe were English words he hadn’t heard of yet.

Quillsh glanced down at Beyond, utterly charmed by the determined curiosity that seemed to be radiating off the boy. He’s doing well on that crossword already. I made the right decision.

Bernael looked up with searching blue eyes, brow furrowing as his marker stilled. “What’s a six-letter word for...failsafe?”

Quillsh smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another candy to offer to Beyond as he raised his eyes back to the road. “Backup.”

#death note #wammy week #wammyweek #beyond birthday #watari #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #coauthored with Ghost #hope yall enjoy it!#wammy's house #fandom event

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yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

Note

Yandere Teachers with a darling hiding a big secret. They can read minds and detest yanderes

You two had some pretty similar requests, and because I think I can't add much to each request alone, I think that putting both together will help me create something a little longer, ya know?

I'm really sorry for taking so long. I'm not feeling well and I'm currently visiting my boyfriend. I hope this headcanon is amazing anyway :3!

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Mind Reader [Yandere!Teacher ocs x Lab Experiment!Reader - Headcanons]:

One of many lab subjects of Bright Vision Corporation. Probably one of the most interesting cases, as you didn't really start as an experiment like the many unfortunate souls walking around that place.

You were sended here for your odd condition, that no doctor seemed to have a good explanation for. Ever since you were a little baby, you not only looked pretty different from all children or even any human at all, you were able to read minds.

You were found in an alley, abandoned of course, after all, what crazy person would bring a screaming baby monster inside their house?

No dear, no one would. That's why the corporation found you first, and brought you to be studied.

It wasn't too easy to read minds like that, especially when you were younger, thoughts would always overlap with each other, especially if someone was talking while thinking, or was thinking in a different language.

Did ya know people speak to themselves in different languages sometimes? It's so bizarre, but probably not the craziest thing you ever heard.

Sometimes you saw amazing people that you know could never hurt a fly, think about the most morally questionable things.

Oh, and those intrusive thoughts…. People can be really interesting… But can ya really blame humans? I mean, yeah, we all have those thoughts, no matter who or what we are.

You can easily mix with any humans, when you were younger your monster aspects were way more visible. Today you only have a small patch of rough skin that almost imitates scales in random areas, and a little horn that has never fully developed.

It's so small, it hides on your hair.

They have told you they would find your family, that eventually, you would be reunited with people like you… But even when they're aware of supernatural beings walking around the town, they haven't found your family at all, or even monsters even close to you.

They have learned how to keep their minds from being constantly read by you, and you have started to learn how to ignore certain thoughts, but even with so much care, you still found out about the lies that they have told you.

Or rather, the promise they can't ever hold up to.

They have promised that they would reunite you with your family, that you would be able to enjoy a normal life out there. You remember hearing them thinking about their plans on the weekends and it all sounds so fun and different from the gray walls inside the facility.

You escaped the facility around night time, after they had checked every subject before locking the whole thing, you almost didn't make it, but the worst part comes when you're suddenly overwhelmed by voices and thoughts all around you.

Your first experience with the outside world after such a long time, is honestly pretty horrendous. The city is way too noisy from what you thought it was.

Even if you really try, you can't ignore some much noise. Your perfect escape soon turns out to be a failure, as you feel too overwhelmed and in a matter of seconds, you drop unconscious.

→ Madeline Allen:

Madeline would probably see you walking around town while looking extremely overwhelmed by everything and everyone around you. Poor thing.

Wait, is that… A patient's vest? Did you just get out of a hospital? Who is taking care of you?

Well, clearly they're not doing a good job at assisting you.

Maybe she shouldn't be so nosy in everyone's business- Oh my God, you're dead!

I mean, sorry, not dead, she just got really scared when you fell unconscious. As she is a momma at heart, of course she'll run straight in your direction to see if you're okay.

Oh God, what can she do? The next hospital isn't really that close to you two. But what else would she do? Take a total stranger to her home, just because is the nearest option and is night time already?

No one seems to be really caring or wanting to help, thinking as if she already has everything under control. And no, she totally doesn't.

Can you guess what was the option that she picked? It was literally the worst one.

Bringing you home not only would get her in trouble but you would probably be mad at her for not taking you to a hospital, but she just- Freaked out, okay?

Yes, we bring people without their consent to our houses.

Madeline is absolutely nervous and is panicking at each second you're still unconscious. She could have brought an patient that had just gotten out of an asylum, or a patient that got out of the hospital without any company, or literally anything!

I like to imagine that in a situation like this, both of you could get in massive trouble if either of you ever get caught. I mean, she brought you to her home without your permission and without knowing anything about you, and you're part of a government research to locate and understand supernatural phenomenons.

Maybe you two can come into an agreement. She doesn't mind letting you in her house and letting you leave there, but she also wants to know more about you. You thank her for letting you stay, you promise her to get out as soon as you find out more about who you are and what you are.

I mean, knowing monsters are real scares her to no end, she doesn't like the sound of something crawling out of her bed at night. But you're so… Nice! 'You're not a toothy scary monster! You're honestly pretty cute.'

Oh, you have never really heard that, did you? Even by hearing someone think about you this way can be so nice.

Maybe she isn't aware of what you can do just yet, but she can tell that you're… odd.

' What a cute little horn, and those scales, they seem almost as hard as steel!' She is fascinated by them.

Madeline's thoughts are always positive and always complimenting you. You won't tell her that you know what she is thinking though, as you're afraid your relationship would start to get awkward or you stop being friends.

She treats you so well, and helps you understand more about the human world outside of the lab. She'll try her best to help you find out more about your past, especially of you being her along with ya, she is really curious about you.

And also because you may get lost and taken away if she isn't with ya. You probably would need some help either way since you don't even know where to start.

Weeks have passed and you probably still have no idea of where you should go. You didn't find any clues of where to find your family. Everything started to get a little off between you two.

Madeline is a sweetheart, but… You started to feel weird around her. Her thoughts weren't more of encouragement, but rather glee from the fact you weren't finding anything about other monsters.

She thinks that it is wrong of her to wish ill towards you, but she really wishes you don't find a need to get out of the house anymore. She thinks you're safer this way.

You thank her for her kindness every day but this is too much! You can't live with her forever.

Day by day, her thoughts are starting to sound so… Twisted. You need to get away from this place.

You were starting to feel sick at how her thoughts started to sound obsessive, until one day, you couldn't help pretending you weren't listening anymore.

'What would they like to eat today? Maybe I cook something special. They have been behaving so well lately.'

"- I don't want to eat anything that comes from you. I'm not your pet that needs to behave!"

→ Matthew Robinson:

You didn't have anywhere to go, the amount of thoughts invading your mind, and the fact that some many people were around you was starting to make you feel like a deer in headlights.

You don't remember exactly how, but while trying to get away from the general crowd you ended up falling inside someone else's backyard. That someone else being him of course.

It's oddly not the first time someone randomly popped up in his backyard, but it's not exactly something he expected to happen that night. Come on, he had a bad day already, what else can happen?

Oh yeah, a hospital patient unconscious around the garden, that's kinda nice isn't it?

Oh dear… You're lost aren't you? Now, he normally is a really logical person, even if you look hurt and probably really cold, he shouldn't think with his heart but rather his head.

So he is bringing you inside. Yeah, that's totally the most normal conclusion when finding a stranger unconscious in your home. Is totally normal.

He tries to make you comfortable while seeing if he can call someone to take you back to the hospital you came from. Maybe you came from the nearest hospital, or maybe the police could bring you back to your home.

Until then he should probably take care of you… Oh, wait a minute. This doesn't seem like wounds. It's just skin, a really rough skin.

You wake up in an instant, probably from hearing his constant worries. On the outside, he is a really calm and collected man, on the inside he is panicking as he doesn't know what to do.

You ask him where you are and who he is, and when the thought of calling the police crosses his mind you stop him in his tracks and tell him, beg him to let you stay at his home until you can find out who and what you are.

' Well, this probably isn't going to end well… At least I hope you find out what you're looking for.'

His mind is filled with somewhat hopeful thoughts, despite how bonkers he thinks the situation is.

You didn't tell him, in fear of him not accepting your condition. After all, it's kinda a bit of an invasion of privacy. Matthew treats you well enough, he teaches you what you don't know about society and let's you do your research in the condition of you being in his company.

It's such an odd situation, you gotta give him some credit for being so curious about you and your background. He asks you if werewolves exist too, maybe the stories his mother told him were true.

But of course, you don't really know what an werewolf is, as the corporation has never found one to do their research. Matthew ends up telling you about all the possible monsters that you could find out there.

He is really neutral about it, but every little new detail you hear is amazing! It seems like there are so many people like you out there.

Weeks have passed and you probably still have no idea of where you should go. You didn't find any clues of where to find your family. Everything started to get a little off between you two.

Whenever you're out looking for clues, and don't find anything useful, Matthew decides you two should take a break right there and go home. You two started to spend less and less time on your search.

Matthew thinks that, maybe, staying with him isn't so bad. And you agree, it isn't! But you can't live with him forever!

Day by day, his thoughts are starting to sound so… Twisted. You need to get away from this place.

You were starting to feel sick at how her thoughts started to sound obsessive, until one day, you couldn't help pretending you weren't listening anymore.

' I wonder if they want to wear new clothes. Mine probably aren't that comfortable anyway. I bet they look amazing in that outfit I saw today.'

"- I- I don't want to wear that! That just… That's not me! You can't force me to put that on!"

Both reactions to learning about your secret would be to be horrified. Have you… Heard every single one of their thoughts? Every single one? The ones they have at work, the ones they have when they come home and see you, the ones they have before bed??

Oh dear, oh dear, their shock would be so powerful that you could literally run out of the house right there at that moment.

But even if you escape, they'll guarantee that they'll find you soon enough. They weren't careful enough, they need to bring you back home.

It's not safe out there.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #sheep's stuff #yandere teacher #yandere teacher x reader #yandere teacher x mind reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #yandere oc headcanons #yandere headcanon

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thrillingdetectivetales · 4 years ago

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2020 Creator Wrap

2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works

Okay, okay, I know I’m late with this but the incredibly sweet @irolltwenties and the utterly delightful @anthrobrat were both kind enough to me in this bad boy and it seems really fun, so here we are!

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

According to my AO3 statistics page, I wrote just over 100K of fiction this year, across 17 different fandoms, a few of which won’t actually go live until after the New Year because they’re part of a gifting collection that hasn’t been revealed yet... Anyway, I picked my faves for a variety of reasons, listed briefly after each link. If you have any questions about works I’ve shared (or just in general) feel free to ask!

1. Front Row at the Gongshow

The Pacific, 16K, Rated G Andrew ‘Ack Ack’ Haldane/Edward ‘Hillbilly’ Jones

Aside from being the longest completed work I produced this year, this is also the first fic I’ve ever written using the “found document” format. While there are parts of it I feel really conflicted about, I’m still incredibly proud of it and think it’s one of the better fic I’ve written...possibly ever. Which is doubly funny because I don’t usually do modern AUs of period fiction, but the hockey angle was enough to tempt and lo, here we are, lol.

[Excerpt from Deadspin]

"You all remember Eddie Jones, right? The corn-fed captain of the New Orleans Rougarou so wholesome he belongs on a box of Malt-O-Meal? The gentleman bruiser who spends his free time playing country tunes for kids with cancer?

Our favorite dapper D-man led his team to 97 points last night in a shut-out victory against the Los Angeles Kings, clinching a playoff spot for the first time in franchise history. Oh! And he also got caught on camera at the after-party, sucking face. WITH A DUDE."

2. Entremets

Hannibal, 8K, Rated E Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

I have...so many Hannibal fic that I’ve started writing and haven’t finished because all my ideas lead to long plotty epics and also big name fandoms scare me. I did this one up for Eat, Drink, & Make Merry, and I’m really, really pleased with the way it turned out, considering it was my first foray into establishing new character voices and also a successful exercise in writing explicit content, which can be a bit of an Ordeal for me, so overall I’m incredibly happy with it. Plus! My deep and abiding love of writing characters cooking/eating/otherwise dealing with food finally paid off!

“The pâté was supposed to be more of a gesture,” Will explains, spreading a golden sliver of honeycomb out across a slice of sopressata with the blade of his pocket knife. “You don’t actually have to eat it. I’m not even sure if it’s any good.” He smears a healthy dollop of chȇvre across his meat-and-honey concoction and pops the whole thing into his mouth without ceremony.

“What better method exists by which to convey one’s appreciation of a gesture than to indulge it?”

3. An Ode to Matty Big-Time

The Good Place, 2K, Rated T Jason Mendoza/Original Male Characters, Pillboi

This one was actually a request made by my very dear @thesummoningdark, who wanted to see some bisexual Jason per that one fantastic Tumblr post about how everyone in TGP should be bi, and I’m really, really proud of the way it turned out. I love writing comedy and I very rarely get to lean into it as hard as I’d like, so delving into the whole wild craziness of Jacksonville, as explained in the show was really fun. I also love writing original characters, and this was a great excuse to indulge.

“We probably shouldn’t do any butt stuff,” Jason warns, with as much gravitas as he can muster. “I had two of Stupid Nick’s Disaster Buckets when I got here.”

“Yeah, your face is still kinda orange,” Mateo agrees fondly, bringing his other hand up to brush his thumb over Jason’s lower lip. It stirs a little frisson of heat in his belly that Jason is 68% sure isn’t just indigestion. “No chemical burns, though, so I think you came out on top.”

4. This and Who I Used to Be

The Tick (2017), 3K, Rated G Arthur Everest/Superian

Another new fandom I haven’t written in before, this was a fill for the Rare Male Slash Exchange that turned me on to a pairing I’d never even thought of before I wrote it and am now low-key obsessed with. It is also, to date, the ONLY Arthur/Superian fic on AO3 at all, which is a cool weird honor and fairly indicative of my life’s goal to eventually write my way into smaller and smaller fandoms until I come out the other side with original works. It was really fun to explore these characters, and to figure out some world-building for Superian’s backstory that fit within the tone and established canon of the extant Amazon!Tick universe. Also featuring an original character that nobody asked for but I’ve come to love unconditionally.

Arthur glances down to where Superian has one cheek pressed against his shoulder, humming something off-key and unintelligible with his eyes closed. Arthur sighs. “Let’s get you inside.”

He hauls Superian in until he can prop him against the wall while he shuts and locks the door behind him. When he looks back over, Superian is smiling at him, soft and lazy. He swings a finger in Arthur’s direction, a broad, sloppy motion, and announces, “I knew you’d say yes.”

“Technically I said fine,” Arthur rebuts. He gestures down the hallway toward the kitchen—which leads on to the bedroom, as Superian well knows—and sighs, “Come on. I don’t know what those handcuffs did to you, but you should probably lie down and have a glass of water or something.”

5. Rain in Its Season

Band of Brothers, 12K, Rated G Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron/John Julian

Oh boy. What to say about this one. It’s maybe not as polished as I might have preferred, but I feel that way about mostly everything I write and at the end of the day I do really love what I managed to do with this piece. Written for the Heavy Artillery Rare Pair Exchange, I managed to lean heavily into both my love for needlessly granular period research and original characters, which are abundant herein. Frankly, based on the very little we see of him in the show, Julian himself is practically an OC, but I digress. This was another of the longer pieces I’ve ever finished and I’m proud of it even if I’d’ve liked to write another 15K or so, time constraints notwithstanding.

“Tell me. Please. Why’re you here?”

Babe flinched, gaze dropping to the floor. His heart was a raw, swollen welt in his chest. He swallowed and licked his lips, slow and pained.

“Come on, Julian,” he rasped, low and quiet. “You know why.” He laughed, soft and hoarse, and shook his head, once. When he looked back up, Julian had taken a careful step into the center of the room. His eyes were very dark, his mouth very red, hope and fear warring in his every feature. Babe fisted his fingers in the cotton sheet underneath him, halfway to pleading as he insisted, “You gotta know.”

Julian sighed and came over to hover at the edge of the bed. Babe spread his legs to accommodate the intrusion.

“That was - ” Julian started. His voice failed midway through the protest, and he swallowed, took a breath, and regrouped at a lower volume. “You said that was just buddies, what we did over there. That it didn’t count. That you didn’t want it to.”

The TL;DR of this all being that while I didn’t write as much I wanted to this year in terms of volume, I feel like my quality has been improving consistently and hope it continues to do so into 2021 while I try to finish out some of my years-long WIPs and get into longer completed pieces.

I’m not sure who all to tag, so I’ll say @thesummoningdark, @blahblahblahclintnickiscanon, @thisbadge, @incognito-insomniac, and anyone else who’d like to join in and hasn’t been tagged yet! (If you’re the latter, feel free to @ me so I can see what you’ve written!)

Happy New Year everyone May the fanworks you create this year be prolific and soul-affirming!

#creator wrap #2020 creator wrap

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stormxpadme · 4 years ago

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What I don’t think people realize is how much cringe and gatekeeping culture fucked up my self-confidence and worsened my anxiety.

Now, don’t get me wrong: After the movies came out, Tolkien fandom had to deal with what was probably one of the most extreme Mary Sue/Tenth Walker fanfiction influx, a fandom can deal with. That’s a fact. And while I fully support everyone writing as much Mary Sue stories and self inserts as you can possibly come up with, because writing should be first and foremost fun and an activity that makes you happy, not anyone else? Most of the time, it’s not my cup of a tea as a reader either. And like, 15 years ago, you could hardly escape those kind of stories in the big archives. So. Like. I understand people being weary and rather not touching LOTR stories with original female characters, to an extend.

There is also no question though, that this hype scarred fandom in a way that makes it almost impossible for writers to establish especially female elves without being labelled a Mary Sue-writer by a large part of the potential audience. Which in this context means - for them - nothing less than “bad, shallow writer who ignores canon for her prepubescent fantasies”.

That biased mindset makes me a niche writer, especially with the LOTR fandom being comparatively small right now, but the few yet passionate reviews I do get, usually tend to start with or contain something along: “Oh, I wasn’t sure I wanted to read this/didn’t know if I would like it because I thought, just another Mary Sue, thank Eru it’s not!”

And again, while there’s nothing incoherently wrong with writing Mary Sues and self-inserts at all and while I wish, LOTR writers wouldn’t have to deal with that stigma: Mary Sue-writing is not what I wanted to do with this series, so this is always very nice to hear. On good days I can remember that kind of feedback and be good with the situation.

But that doesn’t mean the scars aren’t there, and I thought, I’ll let you in on some of these intrusive thoughts and fears and memories of past encounters with certain fandom people hereafter a little, that years of dealing with this have left.

- Whenever I create a piece of photo manipulation fanart for my series and part of it is about one of my OCs, I spent a great deal of time making sure, there’s enough canon images included. Because otherwise people will be bored. After all, they’re here for the canon, not for the shit the writer makes up.

- When I want to talk about one of my OCs in the channel in our Silm discord server that has been created for exactly that, I try to remember when I gushed about them last time, because people will get tired about hearing about your own content, this is a fandom space, talk about canon material ffs.

- When I use like two words of an elvish language in one of my stories, I spend hours researching if they’re at least close enough to being correct because, omg the cringy Mary Sue writer can’t even get her languages right. Look at that, is that movie Sindarin? You’re just here for the hot movie actors, aren’t you? LOL Start learning proper Quenya or get out.

- There’s not a scene, not a sentence, not a single skill my main OCs have that I haven’t pondered about for years and changed details a hundred times to make sure they’re not pictured as being overpowered, too important for the overall plot and worldbuilding and that the scene in question/story isn’t too much about these characters because Ugh, why don’t you just write your own books if you want to bring so much of your own stuff, lazy pig? You just want to profit from the fandom popularity for clicks and reviews, get out and create your own thing. Also LOL My Immortal.

- Whenever there’s a conversation in one of my discord servers about a kind of canon detail/incident that I’ve worked with before and I want to share some input, I very carefully avoid bringing up that my own characters were involved or at least don’t mention their name, because people will be annoyed, there she goes again with her stupid Mary Sues and her straight-passing ship.

- When people do art for my stuff and post it and there’s little to no notes or even unfollows for the artist, I won’t sleep well for days, blaming myself that their reputation as a “serious” fandom artist might have suffered, just because I wanted to see a pretty picture.

And that’s just at the top of my head. I guess I should be glad that with time, I stopped compulsively putting my characters through every available Mary Sue test available at least? I mean, that’s progress?

This post isn’t changing anything, I’ve fought windmills long enough to know that. I just wanted to let the people reading my stuff or interested in my life as a writer, inside my head a little.

#personal #writing #anxiety #mental issues #gatekeeping #cringe culture #sometimes i am tiredTM #also i should add #there's a lot of lovely people in those servers #who do a lot to make such thoughts go away #and often help on bad days #but progress is slow #insert the bad stuff is easier to believe gif here

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fusion-ego · 5 years ago

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So... 2019, huh?

((LONG post ahead!))

This year has really been something, hasn’t it? I had to quit my second job ever because of my back problems (along with other shit lol), I hardly wrote anything all year, and I started in on my Bachelor’s degree. I moved 1600 miles cross-country to Arizona and I’ve been down here for six months now! I had to leave my Markiplier Nudes Calendar™ back in Illinois because I forgot to take it off my wall before I left and it probably got thrown away by the landlord :c, I let my parents borrow a credit card for the move down here and went into debt as a result of almost single-handedly financing the move, had several breakdowns, and despite my best attempts I haven’t been able to get a job yet, but I’m still trying!

A lot of things happened this year.

I turned 20.

I started liking myself again after years of literally hating myself and that quickly advanced to me loving myself again. Turns out I’m pretty cool, even if I am annoying as fuck.

Turns out that having primarily depressive episodes and not having the motivation or desire to take care of myself doesn’t make me any less of a person. It doesn’t make my struggles invalid just because I’m the one not taking care of myself. It turns out, taking care of yourself is fucking hard sometimes, especially if the combined symptoms of your mental and physical ailments put you in a position where everything feels like too much.

It also turns out that taking care of yourself is difficult when you’ve spent your entire life (or at least the parts where you actually had friends) putting all of the wants and needs of your friends and loved ones above your own.

Taking care of yourself is hard when you were raised to be The Strong One, who doesn’t break down and who doesn’t have any issues, thanks. The one who, sure, they haven’t showered in a week and they feel like crap because they haven’t eaten, but you don’t need to know that! You just go eat and take a shower, hun, The Strong One is okay.

It took until this year for me to learn that being The Strong One didn’t mean I couldn’t break down sometimes. It didn’t mean I couldn’t take time for myself and that I had to be available all the time for my friends. Setting boundaries has been a learning experience for me and everyone else in my friend group, I think. I think I’ve cried more this year than I have since I was a kid, and you know what that is? Growth.

And honestly, I’ve really gotta thank my lovely fiance @goreyglitches for some of that. I am petrified of crying when anyone can see or hear me. I was raised to be The Strong One and The Strong One doesn’t cry. I conditioned myself to not be a “crybaby” and to never, ever, ever cry. And I know that’s bad - repressing negative emotions just makes it worse in the long-run. I figured that out with anger and tried to fix it long before I tried to fix the crying issue, and this year? This year Tobi’s helped a lot. I trust him, and I feel safe with him, so when he shuts the door and pulls the covers over us and holds me and tells me it’s okay to cry, I cry. And I am so grateful to him for that I don’t think I even have words.

And @ashencreations has been a wonderful friend this year, as always, even if both of us have been having issues this year. They’ve, I think, been one of the people I vented to the absolute most and they’ve been a real peach about it and even if I don’t have a whole lot of energy to talk sometimes (most of the time) they still love me and are accommodating of my issues. That’s pretty cool! I know a lot of people who can’t talk to people they’ve dated in the past and I have to admit I wouldn’t have been surprised if we fell out this year, but here we are - finishing another year as best friends. They let me have my space and they check in to make sure I’ve eaten and slept and showered. And I try to do the same but my check-ins have been a little lackluster this year while I find my boundaries so oops for that. I’ll try harder next year!

And really, I have to thank everyone who’s stuck with me through this year. My friends and my followers and even just folks who know me because I’m mutuals with someone they’re friends with - all of you. I know this year has sucked and I’ve been really annoying and I’m constantly asking for money, so thank you for sticking around. I’m trying to get back into the old swing of things and I’ve put in about a billion applications and I’m in University, can you believe that? You guys being patient even when I’m annoying has been really helpful. This is especially true of the folks in Lexi’s server who have to see me venting all the time. Y’all are darlings and I’m sorry I keep dragging my shit in there lmao I’ll try not to so much next year.

I’m especially thankful, though, I think, of the people who are still with me after so many years of knowing me. Like Ran and Ness and Zare and Comedy and even Em, even if we don’t talk. I mean, Em probably the most - she knew me when I was such a shithead that it’s kinda laughable now and yet she’s willing to be mutuals with me now. That’s pretty funny. (Hey, Em, guess who’s still trying to figure out how to write that TMNT thing and make it as interesting as the original idea was?) And of course I’ve known Comedy since elementary school but we didn’t really get close until high school and then I dropped off the face of the earth for like a year lol but she’s been a peach the whole time I’ve known her. And Ran’s been around for a while, we’ve known each other long enough that he probably still remembers when I went by Al. And Ness, who doesn’t have tumblr to my knowledge, well I’ve known her since diapers and she’s going to be the Maid of Honor at mine and Tobi’s wedding when we have the money to do a real ceremony - I would have filled that place at her wedding, too, if her sister-in-law wasn’t a needy bitch who had to have that position or she’d pitch a fit and ruin the entire wedding. And like, don’t even get me started on Zare, who was there when I was the worst shithead I’ve ever been and somehow still likes me even all these years later. I introduced myself to this man as Prussia, y’all. I introduced myself to him as a fallen kingdom because it was easier to pronounce than my legal name.

(It may have also been because I was into Hetalia and projected onto the character really hard because of all the “I’m awesome!” and thought it would help me be more confident, and also perhaps because my legal name being mispronounced led to a lot of people knowing me as a different fallen kingdom so it was a haha funny joak to me)

Also, this year, a certain vine-man turned youtube-man made a video that really, really spoke to me. Thomas introducing Remus and having an entire episode about intrusive thoughts and ‘bad’ creativity was - it meant a lot to me. Because since 2018, when I started writing Ego stuff, I haven’t... Well, I used to write a lot of dark stuff, y’all. I wrote violent shit because I wanted to and it was kinda just my Thing™. But after I started writing Ego stuff I started feeling like that was problematic, like it was a bad thing that I wanted to write nasty stuff like that. No one did anything to make me think that! It was just that, well, that kind of violence just... Seemed out of place. I’ve been in the process of writing a 146K+ word, 43 chapter fic containing ritualistic cannibalism, murder, unsafe sex, and various other nasty things since 2017 and I spent a terrifying amount of time feeling... Bad for that last year and this year. I’ve had to re-learn that it’s okay to write nasty stuff (no matter the moral issues other people take with it) because exploring not-so-great things in fic, especially to cope, is one of the many points of writing fic. And I’ll be honest, my dumpster fire fic was something I was writing to get through my associate’s degree because it was a new and terrifying experience and the prominent theme of running away was a feeling I was dealing with in tandem at the time. Remus’ introduction reminded me that dealing with intrusive thoughts and exploring the ‘bad’ creativity doesn’t make me a bad person, it just means I have nasty ideas and even the best people can have those. At least I can turn them into something I’m proud of writing.

So, going forward, I’m not going to shy away from writing my nasty stuff, and in 2020 I’m going to try and finish Trial and Error. I haven’t updated it since August, 2018, guys, it needs a new chapter.

And on that note, I don’t usually make New Years’ Resolutions. I never saw the point in the past and it wasn’t something super encouraged by anyone around me, so it never seemed important. But I’m making a resolution this year.

Over the years and years of writing, I’ve encountered something I think every writer encounters - I stopped writing. Now, I’m not saying I don’t write. Obviously I do, and have been, for a long time. I’m saying I don’t write like I used to. In 2013/2014 I wrote a 36-chapter Sly Cooper fic featuring an OC that still gets hits to this day, and I wrote it over the course of three months. I started it in November 2013 and it was done and put aside by the third of January 2014. It’s still one of my favorites! But the chapters are short, the storyline needs work, I didn’t spellcheck anything or even remotely try to keep my timeline completely straight. It was the first multi-chapter story exceeding 10 chapters that I ever finished. I wrote a chapter a day, as long as I was capable of doing so, I posted it, and I never looked back. It’s not a great story, but it’s one of my favorites. I loved it then and I love it now. And that’s something I don’t do anymore! When a fic doesn’t live up to my expectations, I don’t love it like I love that old fic, which did not at all live up to my expectations. My perfectionism has developed over the years and it has killed my creativity. I can still make cool stuff, can still make things I like, but it’s not the same anymore.

So my resolution is, in 2020, I’m going to write.

I’m going to write like I used to, but I’m going to put all of my experience into it.

I started writing in 2008 or 2009, maybe even before that - if I can recapture the love I had for it then, then I will be in great shape. I didn’t spellcheck back then and frankly I kinda sucked at writing even in 2013/2014, but if I can love writing like I did then and put all of what I’ve learned into it? Holy shit. I mean, I’ve been rewriting that old Sly Cooper fic for the past couple weeks, so it’s not exactly a mystery how much better things will turn out if I pour my much better spelling and grammar, my better ideas, my better commitment, into my fics going forward. All I need to make them great is to love doing it.

So in 2020, I’m going to write.

2019 has been a wild ride, and I’ve written less than half of what I wrote in 2018, not even counting all of my Ego requests for either year. I’ve spent the last three days in a mad dash to reach 100K written this year on AO3 by writing 30K before midnight tonight. I have 5K left! But even breaching 100K I won’t be halfway there. In 2018 I wrote 225.6K on AO3, not counting Ego stuff. And I think that’s because I haven’t loved doing it like I used to - the fact that I’ve loved the fic I started in order to make my “30K by tonight” goal and I haven’t let myself have enough time to agonize over whether it’s “good” or not has a lot of effect on how much I’ve written. My wordcount per hour has, like, doubled because I actually wanted to work. So I’ll reach my goal by tonight and still have time to celebrate at midnight.

So, again, thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me through this crazy year. Things haven’t been great, I’ll be honest, but I’m hoping next year will be better. They’re already off to a good start - my dad and I have a plan for him to start paying me back for how much money we spent moving here, and if I can get a job it’ll only get easier and it’ll only get better. And on top of that me and Tobi have plans to legalize our Marriage™ in September. It won’t be anything big - we’re waiting to have a real ceremony until we have the money to make sure Zare and Ness and Ran can come. But if all goes well, on 9/20/20 we’ll have the legal shit sorted out and Tobi will officially be my husband so that’s just another thing to be looking forward to.

Happy New Year, y’all! Hope you all have a good one. I speak a good 2020 into existence and I won’t stop until I get it.

#happy new year #long post #personal #sort of #new years eve 2019 #new years 2020

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aweirdkindofyellow · 5 years ago

Text

Here I Am, There You Are Pt. 7

Jack Barakat x OC ‘Rachel has been best friends with Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack since high school. What happens when one of them gets married?’

Part 7

Summers back in high school were always the best. It was warm, school was off for a few months, I got to spend all my time with my best friends. We did some fun things back then. The summer before college started was the best summer of my life. We went out and partied before the guys started recording their album and I started the next chapter of my life. Unfortunately, that was the last summer I spent with those friends. I had found new friends at college and contact with the old friends died down a little. But now, I was dating one of those old high school friends. I felt like I was going to have another great summer. A more adult summer, but a great one nonetheless.

It was a Saturday late afternoon when I went over to Jack’s place. I already had plans with other friends earlier in the day, which meant I was going to be late to Jack’s get-together. But I had already told him, and my other plans were planned sooner. So, when I arrived, everybody else was already there.

I was in a great mood that day. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, I was wearing shorts and a nice white top. I had just had a successful shopping trip with my friends, spending some money to treat myself to some new clothes, and it had been twenty-four hours since I had gotten some good news from work. On top of all of that, I was still with the guy I was madly in love with and wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I entered his apartment with my own key, unsure if anybody would be able to hear the doorbell ringing. As I stepped inside, I saw a few people in the living room and a few more out on the balcony enjoying the sun. Jack, himself, was coming out of the kitchen, wiping his washed hands on his jeans. He seemed happy and relieved to see me as he approached me.

“Thank god you’re here,” he breathed out and pecked me on the lips. “I need to take a shit, will you entertain everybody?”

I snorted, trying to hold back my laughter, and put my hand on his face as a loving gesture. “Anything for you.” I kissed him again, not as chaste this time.

“Thanks.” He grinned at me and was about to walk into his bedroom.

I stopped him, however, softly taking hold of his arm. “I want to talk to you later. Remind me if I forget.”

“Oh.” He frowned, stopping in his tracks.

“No, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I just want to talk to you before I tell anybody else,” I assured him and let him go.

“Okay,” he nodded and pressed another kiss to my lips before finally getting to go to his bathroom.

I decided to make my presence known to the rest of the group. After putting down my bag against the wall that lead to the bedrooms, I went further into the living room, giving everybody a wave and a ‘hey guys’. They all greeted me back, making space for me to join their group. Alex was there in the middle of a story, telling everybody about his time off somewhere to focus on writing a few songs. I listened, noticing how supportive Lisa was of everything as she added her own parts to the story. That’s exactly what I hoped Jack and I were like.

I really did believe he was the love of my life. Despite being in relationships before and despite being in love before, it was never like this. This was that special kind of love. That kind of love that made you feel fuzzy just thinking about it. Although we had taken things relatively slow and still were, I was completely ready to say that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I would say it in my head as often as I wanted.

Our relationship was great. We still went out on romantic dates, making everything just a little special for each other. If we were just hanging out at each other’s places, we never got bored or fed up either. Jack could be watching Netflix while I was reading a book, but we’d still be there together. We had our separate things, and we respected that. We didn’t need to constantly be doing the same thing just for our relationship to work. Occasionally, we didn’t even see each other for a day or two, but not for much longer than that. I’d be busy with work or he’d go out with his friends. It’s not like he had to be there through every project and I had to be there to check on him when he went out. We had our balance, we had our trust.

Eventually, Jack reappeared without anybody wondering where he had gone. He was standing behind me while I was sitting on the couch. He put his hands on my shoulders and gave them a little squeeze, making me look up. “Do you want me to get you anything? I forgot to offer you something.”

“No, I’m good.” I shook my head and smiled up at him. “I can get something myself. I probably know your kitchen better than you do.”

“Alright, if you say so.” He shrugged and dipped down to share yet another brief kiss with me before going off to be around the group on the balcony.

“Why don’t you guys just move in with each other?” Lisa commented casually, not meaning to be intrusive.

“We’ve mentioned it before, but we’re good where we’re at now,” I told her with a soft nod of my head. Like I said, we were taking it relatively slow. There was no need to rush. Yet.

“Are you guys still okay?” she asked next with slightly furrowed eyebrows as she picked up her glass of wine.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” I nodded more enthusiastically this time. “There’s just no real urgency to move in together. Someday, though.”

“Okay,” she breathed out in relief, “I just wanted to make sure.”

After that, more normal conversations happened again. I sat there joining in, until I decided I did want a drink. So, I excused myself and went to the kitchen. I grabbed one of the glasses set out for anybody to take and opened Jack’s fridge. There was a lot of alcohol, especially beer, but I settled on a glass of coke. Ever since the incident on tour, Jack had been keeping me far away from alcohol. Even when I was contemplating on one glass of wine when we went out on a double date with Alex and Lisa, he refused to let me. I was thankful for that.

I grabbed an open bottle of wine I saw standing around and made my way out to the balcony to talk to some different people. Jack’s eyes fell on me and I waved the bottle a little bit to show him I had brought a drink for him as well. He smiled brightly and held up his glass that was completely empty and I came up to him.

“God, I love you,” he declared as I poured the wine for him. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

“Oh, I can.” I handed the bottle to one of Jack’s friends and tapped Jack on the temple. “I can hear every little dirty thought in there.”

“What am I thinking now?” He wiggled his eyebrows smugly and pulled on my waist to make me sit on his lap without making my own drink spill.

“Hmm…” I took a close look at him as if I could actually read his mind. Of course, I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to be able to. Usually, I would say he was being disgusting, but I decided to take a chance this time. I gave him a sensual look and said, “yes.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow and put the hand that wasn’t holding his wine glass on my leg.

“Yes,” I repeated with a smirk and pressed my lips against his.

“Well, I’m going to be taking you home tonight,” he whispered against my lips.

“I’m already at your place.”

“Even better.”

––––––––––

It truly is a miraculous thing. Love, that is. I thought Jack and I would never end. I was certain it was that way. He was my home. I really felt like I belonged with him. It’s why I told him what I wanted to talk to him about wasn’t bad, that it was nothing to worry about. But, in hindsight, it wasn’t the complete truth. I just had a biased view of it.

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” Jack brought up the subject I had told him to remind me about.

We were on his bed, his guests now long gone and his kitchen all cleaned up. He was sat on the edge and I was straddling him, sitting in his lap. His hands were on the back of my thighs, partially to make sure I didn’t fall down, but mainly just because he wanted to touch me. My arms were circled around his neck and we were face to face. If there was one way to have an intimate conversation, this was definitely it.

“Okay, well, yesterday–” I started with a big smile.

“Hang on,” he interrupted quickly, looking at the floor for a second before looking back at me. “I just want to clear up exactly what we think ‘nothing bad' is.’ Because we might have very different views on that.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Okay, good,” he nodded to show he was now ready for me to tell him what actually was up, “glad we cleared that one up.”

“Now, as I was going to say, I got offered a promotion at work yesterday,” I quickly got out before he could doubt everything and start questioning me again. It was better to calm his nerves by getting it out of the way than letting him overthink it.

“Really? That’s awesome!” He grinned, showing he was happy for me. “What job is it?”

I couldn’t contain my excitement knowing that he was happy as well. I sat up a little straighter and started telling him all about it. “Editor-in-chief. And, like, for the whole magazine. No longer just the fashion part. Like, all of it. I’ll have so much more responsibility, but at the same time it will also be less work. Everybody always comes to me now when something’s wrong, like they need me to book things for them, which isn’t my job. At this job, I’ll have to make sure that everything is okay, I’ll have to check everything, but I won’t be nagged when somebody doesn’t have the right contacts. I’ll even get to write again if I want.”

“That sounds amazing. Isn’t this the job you always wanted?” His hands went up to my waist, fitting perfectly.

I nodded with even more excitement, loving that he remembered my dreams. “Yeah. It seems surreal. I get to decide what eventually comes into the magazine! Also, totally unrelated, but it would mean almost getting six figures.”

“Six figures!” Jack gasped, knowing how big of a deal that was in the magazine business. I had always earned more than enough money, but this was huge.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed. But then I remembered what came next. My mood didn’t change, I thought it was just another technicality. However, it was the reason why I wanted to talk to Jack in private in the first place. “Just one thing. It’s in Vancouver.”

His face fell as he stared at me. “Vancouver…”

I stared back at him, swallowing the knot in my throat. For some reason, this wasn’t the reaction I was hoping on getting. I knew it was a serious thing to move for a job, I really had to think about it, but I didn’t think it would change Jack’s demeanour so much. “Yes, Vancouver. I would have to move there. But I have until Monday afternoon to decide.”

His eyes fell off me and shifted permanently to the floor. When his hands moved from my body, I knew he wanted me to get off his lap. “Vancouver…” he repeated again.

I got off him and sat next to him, suddenly overcome with sadness. When he reached to his own face and rubbed his eyes, I started filling with worry as well. He didn’t seem happy anymore. But what did I expect? For him to move with me? I mean, yes, I hoped so. It was a big step and a big move, and I knew that. Even if we had been married for ten years, I would have consulted him. But he was acting like we were never going to see each other again.

“You’d have to go all the way to Vancouver? When?” He finally started asking more questions, making me hope he just needed a little time to go over it.

“They want me to move there in three weeks. They’ll help me find an apartment and everything, so I don’t need to worry about that,” I said quietly, praying that maybe taking that stress away would help anything.

But it didn’t. At all.

“Can’t you get the same job here?” He looked at me.

“I mean, the job exists, but they aren’t looking for anybody here.” I didn’t want to ask the next question, dreading the answer. But I needed to know. “Don’t you wanna come with me?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He took a second and let his eyes close and he tried to hold back tears. I took hold of his hand and he gave me his answer. “I can’t. Everything I have is here. All my friends are here. I– I can’t– I’m not ready to move away yet. My whole life is here.”

I wanted to scream. Wasn’t I part of his life? But I was too upset to get mad. I couldn’t force him to move to a whole different country. Tears started prickling my own eyes, I was sure they were glassy and red. Then, an idea popped up in my head and I tried to dry away the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “We– we can try long distance. Right?”

I expected him to at least agree to that. Yet, he just continued to look at me with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know, Rach. I barely get to see you as it is. We’re apart longer than we’re together. If you leave, it will become even less frequent. I’ll only be able to visit you when I’m home. I won’t always be able to fly out. And you’ll be too busy to come and see me every time I’m back. It… It just won’t work.” I breathed out loudly and my tears started to blur my vision as he continued. “Can’t you just stay? You don’t have to take the job.”

“You said so yourself, it’s my dream job.” When I saw that Jack’s tears were now travelling down his cheeks, I let myself release one of my own. I would never stop my own dreams to be with a guy, I had always promised myself that, but it was so tempting.

“Rach…”

“I don’t– Is this… are we really– are we ending this?”

Once again, he opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. He just shook his head. That’s when my tears started to fall freely as well. Neither of us wanted this to end. This didn’t end because of a fight. This didn’t end because one of us felt differently. This ended because of external circumstances. If this had never come up, we wouldn’t have been fine.

I stood up, knowing there was nothing I could do. This was it. This was the way we broke up. I never thought we would, but here we were, going through it. There was nothing that could change this. We weren’t even going to wait until I left. So, now it was time to go.

I picked up my bag, which I had moved into Jack’s bedroom, and left the apartment without another word from either me or Jack. I didn’t let myself cry until I got home and had Olive cuddled close to me.

This wasn’t going to be a new chapter in our life as I had hoped, this was going to be a new chapter in my life.

––––––––––

I didn’t see or hear anything from Jack the entire three weeks before moving away. Most of my furniture had already been shipped to my new rented apartment and I had found tenants for my own house already as well. I didn’t want to sell it just yet, so I was going to rent it out for the time being. Olive was definitely going to miss the garden, as was I, but I had to go.

My friend from work, Kat, was helping me load the last few things into my car. I was going to miss her. We used to carpool together every day. I would go to her apartment and we’d go to work together. Our jobs were very different. She was only just starting out. I had assigned myself to show her around, and I just took her under my wing from there. She was only a year younger than me, she just decided to take this career path a little later in her life. Honestly, she was the closest thing I had to a best friend. She was the first one to know about and to comfort me about my break up other than Olive.

And now I was saying goodbye to her too.

“Oh, I”m going to miss you.” She pouted as I closed the trunk of my car. “I don’t want to say goodbye!”

“I’m going to miss you too.” I made my own sad face and came up to her before hugging her tightly.

“You’re going to kill that job. I know it. They couldn’t have chosen a better person,” she encouraged as she had her hands on both my upper arms.

“And you keep striving, okay? I know it might seem hopeless now, but you’re going to get there. I heard a position opened up, so there might be a few people getting promoted.” I winked, secretly knowing that she was one of the people that was.

A silver car pulled up, and I knew this was our final goodbye for now.

“I love you,” she sighed and gave me one last hug.

I hugged her back. “I’ll miss you."

“Good luck.”

She got into her Uber and waved as she disappeared down the road. The only reason she had to leave now was because she had to go to work. She had only gotten the morning off, so we couldn’t hang out any longer. It was just a coincidence that we had finished packing my car at the exact same time. We really tried our best to get most of it done in the limited amount of time we had.

I took one last long look at my house before I approached the front door. There was just one more thing I needed. I called out Olive’s name and smiled at the pattering of her paws on the floor. She usually would be put in the trunk, but I decided it was best to let her be on the backseat this time with the other things I had to take along. This trip was going to take long, and I knew she would get impatient and annoyed, but it was the best way to take her and my car up with me to Vancouver.

I shut the door for Olive and got ready to get into the driver’s seat myself. There was no point waiting any longer now. I had somewhere to be. But before I could go, an all too familiar black car rolled up and stopped just in front of my house. I knew I couldn’t just drive away now. I had to wait for Jack to get out and stumble over to me.

He looked horrible. His shirt was wrinkled and crooked, his face was puffy and eyes red, his hair a frizzy mess. I felt the way he looked whenever I had a slight reminder that we had broken up, which was most of the time. Only, I pushed myself to take showers and get dressed properly. I was starting a new job, I couldn’t look the way I was feeling.

“Rach,” he cried when he was just a few feet away from me, “don’t go. Don’t leave. Stay.”

I shook my head and kept hold of my car door. “I can’t, you know I can’t.”

“Stay here,” he continued to beg, “I don’t want you to leave.”

It upset me even more to see him like this. I felt so bad being ready to leave right in front of him. I want to comfort him, tell him that it was going to be okay. However, when he stepped closer to me to try to convince me, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I no longer wanted to take care of him. He needed somebody who could properly help him.

“Jack, you’re drunk,” I sighed and closed my door, but not before opening the window so Olive would have air.

“Just stay!” Tears started streaming down his face and he was unable to control the sobs that wracked through him.

“Give me your keys,” I mumbled and snatched them from his hand. He was in no state to drive like this.

I took out my phone and called the only person I knew would be fit for this situation. I nearly started crying myself when I explained the situation through the phone, keeping and eye on Jack who was now sitting on the front lawn, still bawling his eyes out. As I waited for help to arrive, he calmed down, but he was still obviously drunk. He was still muttering things under his breath, sloppily rubbing his eyes, and occasionally starting the waterworks again when he looked up at me.

Eventually, a large white car joined the bunch. Alex got out of it, quickly jogging up to me, seeing Jack sitting on the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, ignoring Jack for the time being.

I nodded and started telling the whole story again, giving the car keys to him. “He just appeared. And he’s drunk, and I can’t leave him like this. Alex…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered and embraced me. “I’ll make sure he gets home safe. He just needs a little help.”

I didn’t want things to end like this. Our breakup was painful, it really was, but it wasn’t horrible. It was relatively clean. Neither of us was happy, but we weren’t mad at each other. There were no hard feelings. I just needed time away from him to try to get over him, which I didn’t think could happen. But, like this, it was messy. I felt guilty.

“Rach, really, don’t worry,” Alex reassured me when he saw I wasn’t certain about anything anymore. “I’ve got him. You’ve got to take care of yourself. Go to Vancouver, make new friends, find your new favourite coffee shop. Don’t worry about him. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Once I nodded, he finally approached Jack. He said something along the lines of ‘come on, buddy’ before helping him up. Alex was saying stuff to Jack that I couldn’t hear as he started guiding him away to his car. I really thought that everything was going to be okay. But then Jack started fighting Alex off when he realised he was taking him away from me. Alex tried to keep a firm grip around him, but Jack just pushed and pushed.

“No!” He screamed like a child getting its teddy bear ripped away. “No! Rachel! No!” He managed to turn around in Alex’s grip, letting me see his tear stained face once more. “Please!”

“What?!” I finally got the courage to reply properly. “What do you want me to do?” When he went to answer, I stopped him. “And don’t you dare say stay.”

That’s when he knew it officially was over. He couldn’t get me to stay. I was leaving. He was defeated. There was nothing to do but let Alex steer him away. He was crying so hard, it broke my heart all over again. I never wanted us to end.

I got in my car and drove away before Alex could. I couldn’t stand being there any longer. It hurt too much.

––––––––––

The exchange was on my mind the entire trip up to Vancouver. All I could remember was Jack’s appearance and tears. He was hurt enough to drunk drive, which was so dangerous. He knew better than that. I was mad at him, I was upset at him, I felt bad for him, I was worried about him, but mainly I was still in love with him. And I never got the occasion to collect my feelings. I had to focus on the road.

I was carrying my boxes into my apartment when I broke down again. It was all just a little too much. I hadn’t gotten much sleep at the stops I had taken overnight and my feeling were all over the place. Olive had been the only thing keeping me together that entire time, but now she was already in the apartment. I was still out in the hallway, just having brought the last load of stuff from the elevator to my front door.

There were tears constantly escaping from my eyes, but I wasn’t crying out loud. I didn’t want to disrupt the other apartment on this floor. But I didn’t get so lucky. The elevator had gone back down again and the person that had gotten in got off on my floor. I didn’t want to be rude, but part of me was hoping they would just ignore me.

“Oh, hey, a new neighbour!” A female voice greeted behind me, going to the door of her apartment.

I looked up, deciding that I had to be friendly. She had the most beautiful curly natural hair. It was obvious she took great care of it. My hair was nothing against hers, especially while it was in a greasy ponytail. I wiped away the tears on my cheeks and tried to give her a smile.

But she couldn’t not notice it. “Oh, damn, you don’t look all too great. You okay?”

“No,” I breathed out with a chuckle, hoping to make the situation a bit better, “but I’ll be fine.”

“Would you like some help moving in?” She offered.

“That’s okay,” I politely declined. I only had a few more boxes to go.

She shook her head and opened her door, quickly putting down her bag and closed the door again. “You look like you’ve got too much on your plate, I insist on helping.”

I accepted that time. It wasn’t that I needed the help, I just wanted to start with a good relationship with my neighbour if I had the opportunity. If she was not just doing it because she was trying to be polite, but because she wanted to help, then that was more than okay with me.

I opened my front door so we could get started. Instead, Olive came running out, immediately heading for my neighbour. I was fully prepared to grab her by the collar and take her back inside just to apologise. It had become a routine ever since I had gotten her. Not everybody liked dogs and she could be a little overwhelming.

But, my neighbour just crouched down and started petting her. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty little thing? Yeah, you’re so cute. Aren’t you? What’s your name?”

“Her name’s Olive,” I answered, smiling a little at how happy Olive was to get some head scratches. But it was short lived, because it reminded me exactly of how Jack would cuddle her. I held it back, though, and introduced myself as well. “And I’m Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you, Olive. And you too, Rachel.” She looked up at me. “I’m Sascha.”

Sascha took one of the boxes and went into my apartment. I followed her with my own box. We put both of them down with all the ones I had already brought inside earlier. Instead of going back out to grab more immediately, Sascha looked around and nodded in approval. All of my furniture was already inside and in the right rooms, just not arranged as I wanted it to be.

“Your place is bigger than mine,” Sascha pointed out.

“Is it?” I asked out of interest.

“Yeah. You have, what, like seven bedrooms here?” She over exaggerated. “And a proper kitchen.”

“It’s two bedrooms and a study,” I corrected, hoping I wasn’t coming off as entitled or something.

“Girl, I have one bedroom, and that’s it, this is like a mansion. You better be paying more rent than me,” she joked.

“My work helped me get this place because they transferred me here. It was a compromise I managed to make,” I shrugged. It would have been the perfect apartment for me to move into with Jack. We would have had the comfort of being able to leave and travel along with the size of my house. But I was by myself.

I must have looked upset again, because Sascha frowned. “You don’t look happy to be here, though.”

“No, no I am,” I backtracked, wiping my eyes again and sniffing. “This is my dream job. It’s just… nevermind.”

“No, tell me,” she encouraged. “I don’t give a shit. You were crying out in the hallway. If you’re here for your dream job, this must be something serious.”

I contemplated whether to brush it off or not. Part of me wanted to spill everything, but part of me didn’t want to bother her. Then again, spilling everything to a stranger might just be exactly what I needed. So, I started small, just so I could stop in case it weirded her out. “My boyfriend of one-and-a-half years and I just recently broke up. He showed up before I left to come here and it just really messed me up.”

“Oh…” She didn’t seem weirded out yet. “That’s a dick move. He’s an asshole.”

I shook my head, feeling my eyes water again. “He’s not an asshole.”

“He is if he broke up with you. I’ve only known you for a few minutes, but you seem like a catch.”

“No… we broke up with each other.” I took a deep breath. Maybe she could reason with me better if she knew the whole story. “It happened after I got the job offer. I just moved here from LA. I don’t really know what I expected to happen, maybe part of me hoped he’d want to move with me. But he wasn’t ready to move away.”

“Long distance?” She suggested.

“Nope. He travels most of the time, he has limited time at home. It would be difficult to ever visit each other.”

Sascha grimaced and gave me a look that showed me she was about to lecture me. “And you’re saying he’s not an asshole? Not moving with you, okay, I can still be persuaded to understand that. But not even attempting to try long distance? What’s the harm in trying? That boy is an asshole.”

“No, he’s not,” I continued to defend Jack. “He was hurt as well. He showed up drunk and he was begging me to stay. It hurt to see him like that.”

“Okay, no. Shut up. You’re proving my point. He’s trying to hold you back from getting your dream job? Making you choose between him and your career? No. He definitely is an asshole. He probably does some deadbeat job and can’t stand to see you actually achieving your dreams."

“No… he already has his dream job. He’s in a semi-famous band, has been since he came out of high school. We used to be best friends back then.”

“Wait, you’re telling me that boy doesn’t even need to be in LA for his job?” She completely ignored my statement about how long I already knew him. “Fuck him! He could have easily moved!”

I shrugged. She was putting things in perspective.

“Look, you’re allowed to grieve.” She changed her tone to show me support instead of just bashing Jack. “This was a long relationship, he was your best friend in your teenage years. It’s okay to need your time to get over him. But don’t you dare feel guilty. This break up isn’t your responsibility. He didn’t want to put in that extra effort.”

On one hand, I felt a bit better. She was right, this wasn’t all my fault. We didn’t just break up because I was moving. We broke up because he didn’t want to take the chance. He gave me an unfair ultimatum, whether he did so consciously or not. And it actually made me a little mad.

It was a horrible few weeks, but it was the day I met my best friend.

#all time low fanfiction #jack barakat fanfiction #all time low #jack barakat #all time low imagine #jack barakat imagine #here I am there you are

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starlight-drive-in · 5 years ago

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All My Life, for You - Ch. 8:

Fic Description:

Mi-Cha and Saeyoung have been happily married for 5 years and their lives have never been happier. The same could be said for Saeran who is now in a much healthier place than he was a few years ago. The twins are close once again, their lives are healthy and normal for the most part. It would seem the picture perfect happily ever after, if it weren’t for the fact that someone who has been looking for them for a long time is about to make an unwelcome appearance.

Saeyoung has two things in this world he has sworn to protect, and nothing is going to stop him from keeping his promise this time.

Relationships: Saeyoung Choi/MC (named), Saeran Choi/OC

Chapter Description:

The trio arrive home safe and sound and the boys get to work. Some light is shed on exactly who they are dealing with. Unknown manages to help in an unconventional way.

AO3 Link | First Chapter

After Saeyoung has properly cleared the security checks, the trio pass through the expansive garage and into the household/bunker where they’ve lived together for the past several years. This is home for all of them, but the dead silence and darkness leaves a strange unfamiliarity to the place. The air has a slight staleness to it after being devoid of life for a few days. Luckily this is easily remedied with a few voice commands for the lights and central air. Mi-Cha and Saeyoung dump their suitcases unceremoniously in the living room while Saeran opts to head straight down the hallway to his bedroom with his.

Mi-Cha plops herself down on the plush red couch, letting out a long sigh as she stares up at the ceiling and yawns. “Long drives make me so tired,” she says.

Saeyoung chuckles, “You weren't even the one driving, I’m the one that should be tired.”

“You love driving, plus I'm pretty sure you require like ⅓ the amount of sleep as a normal human being.”

“Are you calling me weird?” Saeyoung pretends to be offended.

“No, baby. I’m calling you extraordinary .” She says, standing once again to give her husband a light embrace.

“Ready to get to work?” Saeran asks his brother from the hallway, having returned from his bedroom. “I already started our computers, so whenever you’re ready,” he adds before turning into their now shared, glass-enclosed work area.

Mi-Cha gives Saeyoung another quick squeeze and releases him, patting him on the shoulder as she passes by him and heads into the kitchen. “You go get to work, I’ll bring you guys some lunch.”

The boys settle into their work stations, previously this room had been just Saeyoung’s work area, but after Saeran moved in the older twin rearranged the room and purchased Saeran a new setup since his had been lost in the dissolution of Mint Eye. At the time it had been almost a peace offering, a testament to the fast that Saeyoung wanted his brother in his life and wouldn't stop trying to prove it to him. Saeran didn’t use it at first, not sure how he felt about working back to back with Saeyoung, but eventually, he warmed up to the idea.

After the twins started taking freelance jobs together they both realized the value of another set of eyes. Saeran could spot a missing character in Saeyoung’s code that had been stumping him for weeks and Saeyoung had a lot of suggestions on how Saeran could organize and streamline his workflow. Together they had become even better than they had been apart, finally able to play on each other's strengths and weaknesses instead of battling against each other. It was different for both of them to have someone else to rely on, but nice.

The twins pick up where they left off. Saeran resumes the search for his stalker, made much more convenient by his usual monitor setup as opposed to one laptop screen. He had reviewed the public CCTV footage from that night, but what he really needed was the footage from the club. Hacking the public CCTV had been a breeze but he was having a harder time hacking into the clubs security system, where he knew the best shots of the two people he saw that night would be.

“What kind of club has security this tight?” Saeran wonders allowed in frustration as he hammers away at the impressive firewall the club has.

Saeyoung glances over his shoulder and hops up “Oh! I almost forgot.” he walks over to his brother's workstation. “May I?” he poses.

“Sure?” Saeran says doubtfully, moving out of the way to give Saeyoung access to his keyboard.

He watches as Saeyoung enters a few quick commands and the wall comes down no problem.

“How did you do that?” Saeran asks, slightly exasperated.

“That club’s security was one of my jobs a few years ago, some high-profile heiresses had been known to frequent the place at the time and their daddy’s paid a pretty penny to upgrade the security to keep any creeps away from them. Surprised they’re still using it honestly.”

Saeran chuckles shortly “How is that you still find ways to make my job harder, even now that we work together?”

“Hey!” Saeyoung exclaims, heading back to his desk. “It’s totally not my fault this time.”

Saeran begins to flip through footage from the night before and mumbles “It never was.”

Saeyoung smiles, and after a few minutes, turns his attention back to his task of hacking into the cameras around their childhood home to try to get an idea of what kind of activity could be going on there. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get very far before realizing that’s going to be impossible. “They're all out…”

Saeran swings around in his chair. “What do you mean?” He wheels over next to his brother and looks at the map Saeyoung has open on one of his many screens then types in an access point where he knows a camera should be. Nothing. He checks the data log. “Disabled two weeks ago?” He types in another, same thing. Saeyoung watches as his brother checks a few more, before finding one that's still running, about 3 blocks away from the house. “Anything within a few blocks has been shut down,” Saeran says, confirming what his brother already knew but that Saeran had to check for himself.

Saeyoung nods. “Any camera even remotely near the house is down. That doesn’t make any sense, the only people with access to the CCTV systems would be people like us or-” and his eyes go wide.

“The government,” Saeran says, finishing the thought.

“This isn’t a coincidence” Saeyoung states.

They both know what it means. Saeyoung stands and begins a slow pace around the room “I don’t understand, why us? Why now?”

“You know why us…” Saeran deadpans, turning around in his chair and watching his brother.

“Yea... I know but, why does he still think we’re a threat? It's been 26 years, we haven't caused him any trouble. We-"

Saeran stops him "He doesn't care, the threat we pose to him is in our very existence. He's never going to stop. Maybe it just took him this long to find us. Maybe someone from the agency sold you out, whatever the reason, I think it's safe to say we know who's behind this now and we need to be extremely careful."

"Yea… any luck with the club's footage?" Saeyoung asks.

Saeran wheels back over to his side of the room. "Footage from last night is still downloading. I'm hoping I can get some clues into what I - er, what Unknown saw during the switch. What he was warning me about"

Saeyoung goes back to his computer, he’ll admit he hasn’t been keeping as many tabs on their father as he probably should have been. The intrusive thoughts start again. I’ve become careless, this is all my fault.

Mi-Cha enters the room with two plates of sandwiches finding both boys with their faces only centimeters from their monitors. Saeyoung is typing away vigorously, his brow is furrowed. Saeran is closely watching surveillance video of a street corner. “You two sit with your noses in your screens and wonder why your eyesight sucks” she teases.

Neither twin acknowledges her poke at fun as they thank her for her offering and return to their posts.

“That bad huh?” She tries.

”We’re pretty sure this has something to do with our father.” Saeyoung fills her in.

A chill runs down Mi-Cha’s spine, although not that any of their potential enemies were unthreatening, but the Prime Minister bears a certain foreboding aura about him that not even RIka or the agency could compete with. He was above the law. Hell, he practically was the law.

“Do you think this has something to do with him running for president again?” Mi-Cha asks

“He’s running again?” Saeran asks, obviously surprised.

“He announced it this morning, I just saw it on the news.”

Saeyoung pulls up articles confirming what his wife saw.

“He fell out of the race quickly last time but he’s even more popular than he used to be. Especially after he pulled that publicity stunt with helping find homes for all those orphans last month.”

Saeran scoffs. “Well, isn't that ironic?” he says venomously.

“He just loves children doesn't he?” Saeyoung adds, matching his brother’s tone.

“I’ll say,” Mi-Cha responds sympathetically. “Anyway, since a big chunk of his supporters come from all his campaigning with “Save the Kids” it makes sense he’d come after you guys now. If people found out about what kind of father he truly is…”

“It would destroy him and oh, what a shame that would be,” Saeran says in a distantly familiar taunting voice, that neither Saeyoung or Mi-Cha have heard in quite a while.

“What are you thinking?” Saeyoung turns to him just in time to see his brother place his hand on his forehead and hiss.

“You ok?” Mi-Cha inquires?

“Y-Yea, I just… have a headache. I’m gonna go take something for it. I’ll be right back.” Saeran excuses himself.

When Mi-Cha is sure Saeran is out of earshot, she turns to her husband. “He’s worrying me, it’s been a long time since he switched like this, I think it happened this morning also.”

Saeyoung nods. “I’m worried too. It makes sense though, tensions are high right now. Just be ready in case he switches fully.”

"I should be the one telling you that," Mi-Cha tells him, "Unknown likes me, remember?"

“How could I forget?” Saeyoung answers before sighing at his wife’s point "Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”

Mi-Cha purses her lips and hugs Saeyoung’s head to her side as he is still seated and runs her fingers through his curls. “It’s hard to say, he obviously hasn’t been one for talking anytime he’s showed up. But with everything he went through, it's no wonder.” She sighs, “But Saeran’s not stupid and he knows him the best that anyone can, so if he says Unknown might be changing, then I’d like to believe him.”

“Yea, me too. I know he wouldn’t say something like that unless he thought it was true, with Unknown slipping through more often, I’m guessing we'll find out soon enough.”

“Just be ready,” She tells him.

“Hey! That’s my line!” Saeyoung whines.

Mi-Cha giggles, “Not anymore! Now eat your lunch.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Saeyoung teases turning his attention back to his computer.

Mi-Cha leaves the workroom, finding Saeran in the hallway on the phone, evidently finishing up a phone call.

“Thanks, Dr. Lee.” He says into the receiver

“Yea, Thursday is still good, and I’ll try the journaling thing for sure. See you then.” He finishes up and returns his phone to his pocket.

Mi-Cha smiles at him politely. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt.”

“No problem, I just wanted to get Dr. Lee’s opinion on the…”

“Switching?” She finishes for him.

“Yea.”

“What did she say?” Mi-Cha pries gently.

“That I ``should attempt to seize the opportunity to create a better harmony amongst my system.`` and that my alter reaching out to me first is something that I should take as a good sign towards achieving that.”

“That's great!” Mi-Cha says brightly, “I’m assuming you didn't go into all the details?”

He scoffs “Of course not.”

“Still, I’m glad you talked to her.” She smiles at him, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?”

His eyes widen as he coughs out an awkward half-chuckle, “It’s nothing to be proud of, really.”

“But it is.” She argues, “Look, I know you’re basically programmed not to accept compliments but we’re both really proud of you, and the RFA too.”

He looks down, avoiding her eyes and feeling a bit embarrassed both from the call out and the compliment. “Thanks, Mi-Cha.”

“Anytime.”

“I’m gonna get back to work now.” He says, moving back to the workroom

“Don’t forget to eat!” She chides.

“Yes, Ma’am!” He obeys.

“You two are more alike than you even know,” Mi-Cha says under her breath as she retreats to her and Saeyoung’s bedroom to unpack.

Saeran settles back down at his workstation, finding the footage from the club fully downloaded. He presses play and moves the scrubber to around the time he knows he was there. Finding the part of the recording where he walks in, he sits back and watches. At first, it’s the part he remembers, walking in, trying to blend in and dancing . He feels his cheeks begin to heat up as the embarrassment from watching himself dance sets in.

Then comes the switch. It’s almost uncanny how obvious it is. He watches his form shift from an awkward shuffle to something much, much different. Something almost... sensual? His cheeks heat up some more and he really hopes Saeyoung isn’t watching over his shoulder, but he's too afraid to look.

He watches as his - or rather Unknown’s attention is drawn to someone entering. “That’s him!” He hisses out, Quickly whipping his head around to see if his brother heard him, no longer possessing the same fear from a moment ago. Luckily he finds Saeyoung with his headphones on, intently working on something. He breathes a sigh of relief.

“But then who was that other guy?” he continues to think out loud as he watches his alter on camera follow the hooded man from a distance, assessing the situation. While still dancing like that. He cringes again. The hooded man takes a seat at the bar, takes out his phone and proceeds to take what appears to be not so stealthy video recording of him. He’s sloppy, and he has no idea who he’s dealing with.

Unknown does not make it obvious he’s realized what's going on, of course. He bides his time, watching the man and takes a moment to 'send' that text to Saeran, warning him. Then he does something Saeran doesn't expect but isn't exactly surprised by. He watches as Unknown approaches a woman, innocent-looking enough but he knows how good he is with words. He whispers in her ear, she whispers back, they chat a little bit. He seems to ask her something, she pushes his chest playfully and shakes her head “no” but then he hands her a 50,000 Won note. Saeran gasps and thinks absently about the ins and outs of money management when someone else lives in your body. Back on screen, the girl stares at him for a second then shrugs, pocketing the money and approaching the now distracted man at the bar.

The woman does a marvelous job of distracting the man. “Picking girls to do your dirty work again I see,” Saeran mutters. He doesn’t know where his father managed to find this guy but he needs to fire him or hire more just like him rather. This would be a lot easier if all his lackeys were this oblivious. Unknown walks behind the man and swipes his phone off the bar, and head to where Saeran is pretty sure the bathroom is.

He returns a few minutes later and places the phone back in its spot he then looks directly into the camera and motions to his back pocket, and… winks ?

The girl stays a few minutes longer before excusing herself and going back to her group of friends. The man grabs his phone and looks around the club, assumingly for his target. But Unknown has managed to hide behind a speaker tower. The man gives up easily, leaving the club. Unknown approaches the girl again, whispers in her ear assumingly thanking her and pecks her cheek lightly. She bashfully covers her smile and nods. Saeran touches his lips as heat spreads over his face again.

And then he switches back, once again the awkward dancing boy in a crowd of strangers. The man he had confused with his stalker walks in and goes to sit with his date. He feels like a fool all over again. He watches himself leave and feels a little bad as the girl who helped out his alter looks around in confusion for him.

“You’re never gonna get a girlfriend like that bro.” Saeyoung’s voice comes from behind him.

“Ack! When did you get there? How long have you been watching?’ Saeran says, caught off guard.

“Long enough to watch you kiss a girl and then run away,” Saeyoung says incredulously.

“I didn’t kiss her!” Saeran defends

“But you ran.”

“I don’t even know her! I don't have time for this! I, I have to go check my pockets from yesterday.” Saeran gets up.

“Umm? Ok?” Saeyoung says confusedly as Saeran heads out of the room again.

Saeran returns a minute later with a small note written on a brown paper towel.

“What’s that?” Saeyoung asks.

“A note, from my other half.”

Saeyoung taps his chin thoughtfully “But I didn’t write you a note.”

Saeran rolls his eyes. “Not you. I’m talking about the other guy in my head.”

“I’m wounded, I thought I was your other half.” He whines, attempting to wrap his arms around Saeran, which he dodges effectively.

“Save it for your wife, would you?”

“Boo, fine.” Saeyoung gives in. “So what’s it say?”

“It says ``Shut up Saeyoung.``''

Saeyoung shrugs “Sounds about right.”

Saeran takes a deep breath “It actually says that the guy that had been following me had a physical description of me as well as a bunch of photos me from that night. He deleted them. He didn’t have enough time to properly go through everything on his phone but says it looks like they weren’t uploaded anywhere else and that there hadn’t been any communication with anyone for a few hours, so it should buy us some time and… shit.”

“What?” Saeyoung asks urgently.

Saeran hesitates “There was also a description of Mi-Cha, which he altered some details of, hoping to throw them off a bit, but not make it too obvious.”

Saeyoung peaks over his brother’s shoulder, now stone-faced. “Shit,” he says, voice thick with worry again, it was enough to know they were onto Saeran but Mi-Cha too? “That’s… bad.” he mutters “But kinda good? In a way, I guess. I don't like that they’re on our trail but… I guess I'm almost glad he was there? At least we have a better idea of what we’re dealing with thanks to him.”

“Me too, I don't think I could have been able to do what he did, My plan was just to run.” Saeran skims over the note again. “Oh, it looks like he also put a tracker on his phone.”

“Nice, we can start looking into that." Saeyoung pauses. "Um, is there anything about me?” he asks wearily.

“Nothing,” Saeran responds empathetically.

Saeyoung purses his lips and nods. “At least we know what they have on you guys, that’s more important anyway.”

They both fall silent and Saeyoung turns back to his screen. After a few moments Saeran speaks up again “Hey, Idiot” he calls, and Saeyoung turns to him, “You’re important too.”

#WHOO UPDATE TIME #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #707/mc #Saeyoung Choi #Saeran Choi #amlfy #mysme #mysme fanfic

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bbqs-paintbrush · 7 years ago

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Housewarming

Summary: A new house usually comes with a new life around he corner. For some this is exciting; for others it’s terrifying.

Word count: 2.957

Warnings: Mild swearing, romance, fluff, angst

A/N: OC interaction/drabble. Written as part story and part character study.

Zephyr carefully readjusted the bag over his shoulder when he finally reached his destination at the end of the cobble path. He took a moment to admire the new little cottage Glenda now called home. He’d seen it before, but after being vacant for so long the little plume of smoke from the chimney alone breathed new life into it. It was a strange but wonderful quality she seemed to add to everything she touched. He wondered if anyone else noticed.

Just as he was about to knock on the door it unexpectedly swung inward and he came face to face with her - catching both of them off guard.

“Ah- I- Zephyr, I didn’t expect to see you.”

He pulled back his hand and grinned a little sheepishly. “Well, the idea was to surprise you… Surprise!”

She smiled genuinely. “Well, come on inside. I figured you wouldn’t be coming when you didn’t show up with everyone else.”

He shrugged before entering. “Housewarming is about the new homeowner; and while things have smoothed over a bit, I think that having me and Mercutio in the same space for too long would make it more about me.”

As he walked through the door, he found the place in an uncharacteristic disarray. While he expected a new move to be a bit messy, the small open suitcase peeking from behind the bedroom doorway, the miscellaneous takeout food remnants on the counter, and few disheveled open boxes and manuals strewn about didn’t match the person he knew - especially if she’d been living there for more than a week. It was a small cottage - made for one or two people - and Glenda’s A-type personality would normally have it spotless in a day.

“Uh, sorry about the mess.” Glenda scooped up a box that was resting on one of the stools at the window bar. “It’s not quite where I’d like it to be just yet.”

“It takes some time.” he mused. “I hope my family wasn’t too intrusive while they were here.”

She made a dismissing gesture. “Not at all. They were more than generous with some of their gifts.” She motioned to the neatly stacked boxes on the counter. “Mercutio and Zita gave me some essential cooking dishes and utensils, Baldwin and Parvati gave me an entire dinner set for four, and even Jethro -” Her eyes fell to bushel basket brimming with gardening supplies and plant starters like bulbs, seeds, and several kinds of tuber vegetables all lovingly tied up with a neat bow. “- It’s bad enough I had to practically break his arm to not give me this place for free, but he gave me all those supplies for getting the garden plot tilled and ready to go.”

Zephyr smiled. What Jethro lacked in words he almost always made up for in meaningful gestures. “Well, I hope you’re not too overwhelmed with the showering of gifts for one more.”

He carefully pulled out a clear case from his bag and presented a juniper bonsai. “I mean, it’s not…” he glanced inside the open case of dishes to glimpse the brilliant cobalt blue, gold filigree, and emerald green inlaid edge of a dinner plate. “...nearly as elegant as some of the gifts you got, but I hope you like it.”

She looked over the tiny tree warmly and said, “It’s perfect. Wait… haven’t I seen this in your apartment?”

He laughed nervously. “Ah, you saw it in the window. I knew they could be difficult to care for so I wanted to make sure even a schmuck like me could keep it healthy before handing such a great responsibility to you.” the end of his sentence sprinkled with dramatic flair as he set it in the window over the bar. “See, I even made a little care book should you ever have a question about it.” He produced a small booklet from his pocket and presented it proudly.

She crossed her arms playfully at him. “Well, I’m certainly glad you believe I am able to bear the weight of such a burden. And would you know, he even has a friend to keep him company.” She gestured to the tiny potted barrel cactus also seated comfortably in the window.

“Someone stole my idea!” Zephyr feigned horror.

Glenda smirked and said, “Don’t worry. It’s a gift from the admiral. He probably had someone else pick it out for him anyway.”

Though he didn’t waver, Zephyr paused at the name, looking at the succulent. He remembered that man. After Glenda had had that horrible episode in his apartment - having to rely entirely on him for care and support while she worked through it over an entire weekend, frantic and terrified to go to a hospital - and then getting the cold, indifferent call from him.

~~~

“I’m glad to know you’ve been taking care of her. We’ll have someone by soon to pick her up so she won’t be a burden to you any longer.”

“She’s never been a burden to me, sir.”

“Ah, well, the Alliance is glad to hear that, son.”

“I’m not your son.”

~~~

“Hmm…” He shook himself of the flashback. “So… how’ve you been settling in?”

“It’s been…” She wavered. “Fine.”

A single, deadpan eyebrow rose to call her out as he glanced at the various items he noticed earlier.

She gave an exhausted, resigned sigh. “I’ve, uh, never lived in a… y’know, house before. Like my very own space. It’s taking some adjusting.” Her posture became closed off as she pulled into herself.

“Is that all?”

He only received a non-committal mumble in his direction.

“Well, I don’t have any plans if you’d like me to help you sort the place a bit.” He rested his bag on the bar and sauntered over to her housewarming gifts.

“I wouldn’t want to keep you-”

“Too late.” He pulled out one of the ornate dishes he had been eyeing earlier. “You know, this looks incredibly fragile, but the ceramic this manufacturer uses is incredible.” He continued to unpack the box nonchalantly as Glenda sidled up next to him to watch.

“And the crystal glasses?”

“Those, too. Practically indestructible.” He twirled the crystal up to the light by the flute to inspect the facets. “Baldwin may have a reputation to uphold when it comes to gifts, being king and all, but he’s a pretty practical guy. If he didn’t have every meal served for him he would use only sturdy bowls and mugs and use bread and his hands to eat everything with.” He inspected a gold fork with matching blue and green inlays. “Flatware be damned.”

Glenda gave a wry smile. “I don’t know if I can imagine him eating every meal in such an undignified manner.”

“Hey, this is the guy who adopted a stray tardhnokat, named it “Sandwhich,” called it a “good boy” literally up until the point it had kittens, and loves it more than anything except his wife.”

Glenda gave him the point and helped find places for all the gifts and possessions she had - few as there were.

“These literally cannot be all the clothes you own.” Zephyr gave a disparaged sigh looking at the less than ten hangers he’d just hung in the closet.

“Three kinds of uniforms, a few sets of civies, and that one formal dress.”

He gestured to the still simple and unassuming garment. “I’ve never once seen you wear this.”

“That’s because I never have.”

Zephyr rolled his eyes as Glenda finished up organizing her personals drawer. “Well, since that’s over sooner than expected, I guess I better tell you I lied.”

She furrowed her brows at him. “What?”

“I mean, I said I only brought you ONE present today.” He walked over to his bag resting on the bar and pulled out a jar of cookie butter. “I actually brought two!” He pulled two spoons from the recently assigned flatware drawer. “Celebrate a job well done with me?”

Glenda roller her eyes at his dramatics. “Oh, I hope that’s the only one you brought.”

“Shut up, or I’ll get you more later.”

He walked into the small bedroom and plopped himself down on the edge of the full-sized bed across from the fireplace which was the only source of light in the cottage as the sun had set while they were cleaning. Glenda got up from her place by the dresser and sat down next to him, holding her hand out for a spoon. As Zephyr handed her a gold spoon and the jar he had just opened he picked up from his previous ravings.

“I will take you shopping if you don’t get yourself some more everyday clothes, and let me tell you shopping with me on a mission is not necessarily a good time!”

“I’m shaking in my boots.” Glenda said with the spoon in her mouth.

“If you had any boots.”

Genda laughed, but Zephyr continued. “Seriously. You could be looking at an early retirement with everything that’s happened lately. You’re likely not going to be able to keep living like this. You should prepare for that change.”

Glenda slowed her eating and stared into the fire for a moment. “Hmm.”

Zephyr turned to face her, “I know these last couple of months has been especially rough on you, but you’re doing well. You have some good, dependable friends, savings that could last you years while you find work, and a perfectly good, quiet and safe home.” He gestured vaguely at the cottage around them. “I know this step - this transition to civilian life - won’t be easy for you, but it’s what you need.”

Glenda had stopped eating altogether and just dragged her spoon gently around the rim of the jar. He waited a few moments to give her a chance to collect her thoughts when she finally spoke up. “How did you do it?”

“What?” The question came unexpectedly to him.

“How did you adjust to your whole life changing so quickly?” She clarified, still not taking her eyes from the jar.

“Oh boy,” he started. “I am not the person to be answering THAT question.” But when he saw her hooded eyes pleading for an answer he continued thoughtfully.

“When I left Xylon almost two years ago, it was not for good reasons. I was still angry, mad at the universe, everything. Nothing made sense, and I wanted to be in control of my life for once. Sadly, the way I went about it was all wrong. I did some awful stuff. I manipulated people, disgraced my family on more than one occasion, drowned myself in a chemical stupor, and was generally just a REALLY shitty person.”

He glanced over to see Glenda continuing to fidget.

“I’m not particularly proud of the person I was or the journey it took me to get here, but all things considered it really was for the best. My family and I are even on speaking terms again. If I’m honest, I have you to thank for that.”

“I never really did anything about that, though.”

“No, there’s really no one thing you DID, per se; but I have a lot to thank you for. You were just always this grounded person - stable, like going from the world spinning around me to having my feet on solid ground. It was jarring, and I think that’s why I treated you so badly in the beginning. But it was that stability that helped me… find perspective. I got to see myself and what I was doing through the eyes of someone not so preoccupied with their own issues to matter. To put it bluntly, you’ve always been able to call me out on my bullshit, and it was what I needed. ” He flamboyantly fainted backward on the bed with a hand to his forehead. “After all, it takes quite the person to put up with a drama king like me!”

“But I didn’t DO anything.” Her fidgeting had become more sporadic and her grip on the jar tighter. “All I did was my job. I was given an assignment, I did what I had to to fulfill that assignment, and you did all your own work yourself.”

He gingerly propped himself up on his elbows. “Well, exactly. You were just… you. And that was what I needed - what inspired me.”

It didn’t seem like the answer she was looking for so he tried again.

“I’m not one-hundred percent sure what allowed me to go from a the hot mess I was to the... ‘model citizen’ I am now. I just… grew. I had this vision of me that I felt I could be proud of, and more than that, I think it was because I had someone I wanted to be proud of me.”

“Who?”

“...You.”

There was another long silence as she looked into the fire. “What makes me so special anyway?”

He took his time carefully looking for the right words, “I can’t really say. All I know is that my life changed for the better because of you just being there. You’ve turned my world upside down from the moment I met you, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Why?”

“Becau-”

“Why would anyone care about me like that?” He saw her fidgeting become shaky and her eyebrows furrow. “Why do people care about me at all? I’m just this big bundle of underdeveloped, nervous, socially-awkward mess that doesn’t know how to have emotions or be a ‘human being’ or how to keep people from getting hurt and doesn’t know anything but taking orders and being the yes-man errand-girl for anyone with the big enough title and… and…I don’t know what I’m doing anymore or why I should try.” Her fidgeting stopped but she continued to shake with the tension in her body.

At that point, Zephyr realized that he had never seen that particular fidget before. She wasn’t mimicking anyone’s nervous habits to blend in the way she used to. It was her own mannerism. She had developed it since that episode months ago. She was growing and changing, and realized that she was wrestling with things about herself she had never known or felt before and it scared her.

He reached out and touched her hand gently. “I would follow you to hell and back if you wanted me to. Hell, I’d take the trip alone for your sake, and there are others who feel the same way - not because of the way you act on someone else’s orders, but how you act on your own account. What you’re going through not many people can imagine, but that’s not a reason to give up on yourself. It’s hard, and it will take time and adjustment; but you’ll come out stronger in the end for it.”

Her shaking had stopped and her figure went fairly limp, clearly exhausted.

“Those feelings of fear and guilt you’re feeling will be part of developing who you are forever, but they don’t define you.” He finally straightened himself completely to sit alongside her again and pulled her head to his chest gently. “You think you’re weak now, but you’re not - you’re just tired.”

Empty silence continued on again for a while before another question came from her lips. “Zephyr?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He closed his eyes and gently stroked her hair. “Yes.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Well… It’s a force and a feeling that defies logic. It’s motivating and depressing all at the same time.” He felt compelled to continue honestly. “At the moment it kind of sucks because we aren’t together, and we could be but I really screwed that up a long time ago.”

“Do I know her?” At this point, he felt he understood what she was trying to say, and let her continue her line of questioning.

“I think you do.”

“Does she know that you love her?”

“I think so.”

“Do you think you’ll ever get together with her?”

“I’ve resigned my right to pursue her anymore. I don’t think I deserve it after the way I treated her in the past. At this point, I’m happy just to see her happy. Unless she came to me and made it clear that it was what she wanted and I could make her happy, I’ll be content and blessed to just be her friend.”

“You’re my friend, right, Zephyr?”

“Absolutely.”

They stayed leaning together in the silence for a bit longer. The embers in the fireplace were beginning to die down. Eventually, Zephyr got up, took the jar and the spoons from Glenda, and set them in the kitchen for later.

“It’s late. I should let you get some rest.” He said.

“Are you going to be in town a while longer?” The exhaustion in her face was obvious.

“I should be available if you need anything.” he winked with a grin before turning to leave, but he paused at the tugging of his sleeve.

“It’s, uh, it’s pitch black outside. I don’t want you to have to wander around in the dark like that.” She avoided eye contact, but he could still see the faintest blush on her cheeks in the dim light.

“I don’t want to be a bother.” He said genuinely.

“You’re never a bother.”

“Oh now, that’s a lie.” He smirked.

“Well, I- yeah...” Her voice was beginning to pick up again.

He smiled and stretched his arms over his head. “Alrighty then, I guess I’m bunking on the floor.”

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor!”

“Well, I can’t let my hostess sleep on it, now can I? Besides, where else am I gonna sleep - the roof?”

“With that attitude, there’s always the fireplace.”

#oc #drabble #my ocs #glenda #zephyr #short fic

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zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen · 7 years ago

Text

‘With Ears to See and Eyes to Hear’

The nightmare played in her mind again, the same as it had every night of her life. Her former family being murdered one by one, and Lorelei Sienna herself running for her life. Her subconscious mind would not allow her to forget them.

First, there was the murder of Lance Lapiz, the reptilian leader of their little faction. The Elite Four they had called themselves. Lance had led the four of them in their desertion of the White Fang. None of them agreed with the organization's new leadership, as Sienna Khan's way of doing things was more violent than the diplomatic way of Ghira Belladonna.

Lapiz had always looked up to the panther, but this tigress was too much for him to take. Lapiz had seen a crew of grunts set fire to a shop because they refused to sell coffee to a passing Faunus. It didn't matter to them that the man couldn't pay for the coffee, that he was a troublemaker in the first place. They just lit the place ablaze.

That entire shop had been destroyed, and the cashier had been injured in the struggle. And for what, because some straggler Faunus had given him trouble? Lance couldn't believe what was happening, and he could not bring himself to take part in anything of that sort. He got a small crew of like-minded Faunus together and made a break for it.

Lance witnessed a White Fang raid on a Dust shop that the Schnee Dust Company supplied, and had jumped to the defense of a worker that some grunts were attacking. One of the grunts recognized him and taken him out almost instantly.

Bruno Bones was the next to fall. The bull Faunus had been distraught at losing Lance and went around punching holes into trees. A White Fang faction descended upon him while he was alone, and his life was over. Lorelei hadn't seen either of these as they'd happened, but they haunted her nightmares all the same.

Those two men were part of the only family she'd ever known, as her parents had been killed in a bandit raid when she was young.

The loss of Lance and Bruno had left Lorelei with only Agatha Ecru, the feline Faunus that had always watched over her. The two had become even closer since leaving the White Fang, sharing everything: their food, their secrets, and on occasion even themselves. Lorelei wasn't sure what love was, as running for her life had always been more important, but she thought it might feel something like what she felt when she was curled up in Agatha's arms.

The feel of her skin against Agatha's was definitely a wondrous feeling Lorelei had never felt before. She knew Lance and Bruno had loved one another that way, so perhaps it was love. Proximity was a more likely explanation, as Lorelei would understand that, but that didn't feel like this.

Agatha was preparing a raid on a nearby White Fang hideout, as she'd heard on the wind that they were keeping Lance and Bruno's weapons as sick trophies. Agatha had told Sienna that she must not follow after she'd left for the night. Sienna might have been younger than the rest of them, but she knew the way things worked.

Nearly every time one of them went off alone they never came back, and Lance and Bruno had not been running right into enemies on purpose. Ecru was basically handing herself over, and Sienna could not let that happen. Once Ecru was out of sight, Lorelei scooped up Koga and followed her.

The dreams had a tendency of fast-forwarding the little chase scene, bringing her to the hideout almost instantly. Ecru had left the door open, as she'd knocked out a grunt and used their handprint to open the automatic door, then destroyed the lock with Kikuko. Classic Agatha, always knowing her exit. Lorelei slipped in and scoured the area.

Almost instantly she was yanked to the side behind a wall.

"Lore, I told you not to follow me! I need to do this myself!" Agatha scolded her. Lorelei was not taking any of that.

"YOU CAME HERE TO DIE!!!" She yelled quietly, choking back tears at the thought. "I couldn't let you get yourself killed! Especially not to collect two weapons that may not even be here!" She hugged Agatha and nuzzled her neck. Agatha squeezed her tiny Sienna tightly.

"I guess I can't stop you. Just know that you can't die at the hands of these garbage grunts. I'll kill you if you do, love." She chortled and kissed Lorelei's forehead. As she pulled away Lorelei pulled her back, kissing her lips this time and holding on for a moment. "Yeah, I love your kisses too, but if we sit here making out we'll be found," Agatha told her. The two of them got to their feet and readied themselves.

"Good eye, sniper!" Lorelei told her.

"I shoot, you run!" Ecru replied, and the two of them were off. Ecru had an idea where the weapons might be, so they headed in that general direction. Their intrusion had not yet been realized, as there were no additional units placed around the base.

Lorelei saw the first guard around a corner, stopping short of rushing him. She pulled on one of her tusks and it pulled right out of her face, a new one replacing it nearly instantly. She thrust the bony spike at the guard, who fell as it shot straight into his heart. The guard's teammate moved to rush them, but another well-launched tusk took her down also.

"I thought I was doing the shooting, love." Agatha nicked from behind her.

"Come on, two kills in a row isn't bad." Lorelei retorted, pleased with herself.

"We should try not to kill anyone, although they won't value our lives as we value theirs," she told Sienna as she peeped around the corner. "This corridor is clear. Let's get it!" The two of them were off again.

This part always went faster in the dreams as well, or so Lorelei thought. She never knew how long they'd actually been in the base, only the awful happenings there.

Ecru put her sword up to a grunt's throat. This one she recognized. "You're actually a bit of a high rank. Kairyu and Dynafist! They are weapons that once belonged to two of my cohorts. Word through the ranks says they're still held by the White Fang, and a little birdy told me they were in this very base. Tell me where they are and I'll let you live."

"At the center of the hideout, in Giovanna's chamber. You'll never make it there, though. I'll have soldiers on you instantly. You can't fight them all yourself." The grunt spat, chortling. Ecru sighed.

"Yeah, I guess you won't be keeping quiet. Sienna, give him a sting or two." The tiny boar Faunus spun Koga around in one hand and stabbed the grunt's leg, her poison seeping out of the blade and into his skin. He let out a scream as it burned him, but Ecru covered his mouth. "It's okay, she poisoned you badly. You'll be out of your misery soon."

They left him lying there, but Ecru put a bullet in his chest for good measure.

The two warriors tore through the base. Giovanna Scarlet would not be at the base at this hour, so this should be quick and easy. They found the chamber in question, though it was sealed with a voice code. "Criminy, these are vernacularly fastened doors! Damn Scarlet for being endlessly extra!" Agatha cursed.

"The password is 'Hcez Nyrra," Lorelei spoke. "That's her lover's name. It probably has to be spoken in her voice, though." Lorelei puzzled for a moment before remembering something. "She's a parrot Faunus. She has that squawk in her voice!" She cried, reciting the password in her best parrot voice. The lock flashed different colors, and the door opened. "See? You would never have made it without me!"

"Oh, hush, love. Now, let's get those weapons." Ecru replied. The two of them scoured the room, quickly collecting the bo-staff and gauntlet they'd come looking for and stuffing them into Ecru's backpack. Their mission complete, they made a break for it.

They tore down soldier after soldier in their exit trek. They slashed their way through until they were nearly at the exit. Lorelei could hardly believe they'd succeeded.

Agatha stopped short, about twenty feet from the door. Lorelei stopped dead in her tracks as she saw what had happened. A grunt with a spear had jabbed it into Ecru's chest. Lorelei's heart stopped for a split second, the color leaving her orange eyes. The grunt had given a cheer about taking out the deserter and getting a promotion, but he would get no such thing.

Lorelei stabbed Kikuko into the grunt's throat, thrusting it ever deeper until it stuck through him like a roasting spit. The damage was already done, however. Ecru lay on the floor of the base, the last of the life seeping out of her. Lorelei held her for a moment, taking one last kiss from the one she loved.

The nightmare jumped around after that, a miserable highlight reel in her subconscious mind. The fire Lorelei had set in their temporary dwelling to burn Ecru's body. The reforging of her own katana, Koga, using parts from the weapons her friends had wielded. The initiation at Haven Academy and the meeting of her team.

Finally, a montage of events that had not happened, leading up to her death at the hands of the White Fang. Just before she would have 'died' she awoke with a start, lying in her bed breathing heavily. She heard a noise in the dorm's kitchen area. Indigo appeared with two mugs of hot tea.

"I heard you sleep talking and realized you were having the dream again, so I made you some chamomile tea." He passed her the mug, frowning after she took it. "I'm terribly sorry for freaking out about your lyric book. Zwei slapped me around and brought me to my senses."

"It's okay, dear. I'm just glad you're here with me. Also, I'm glad I didn't wake Zwei or Katrina."

"Tree sleeps like a stone, and I don't think Zwei sleeps at all some nights, anyway." The boy with the wispy purple hair told her. She hugged him tightly between sips of her tea. He hugged back, her warmth engulfing him. She was careful not to jab him with her tusks. They exchanged good-night words and Lore fell back into her bed.

\/\/\/\/\/

Day 21: Faunus Character

I’m always down to write about my OCs. Lorelei Sienna is a boar Faunus with tusks jutting out of her face. She is able to yank these tusks off and throw them like knives, and new ones grow back in their place. She figures this may have been a blood trait, but she hardly knew her blood family.

She and her former cohorts are named for Kanto’s Elite Four. And all their weapons but Bruno’s are named accordingly. Sienna eventually goes to Haven Academy and becoming a member of Team MZKL (Musical) along with Zwei Silverstein, Indigo Monotya and Katrina Windstorm.

She alludes to Cynder the Dragon, as her Semblance is Poison, though she also touches on Koga and Lorelei from Pokemon as well as Spike from X-Men.

Giovanna Scarlet is an OC I made on the fly, but she alludes to Giovanni, the boss of Team Rocket... just in case that wasn’t obvious. Giovanni was always my favorite crime boss. Also, Hcez Nyrra should be self explanatory. If not, I’ll say this: I get a lot of mileage out of spelling names backwards.

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