66865644

[snekdood]

i think im allowed to assume someones consuming their kinks in a harmful-to-others way if I have first hand experience with them sexually abusing me, personally.

[epona610]

A Comparison of OUAT Redemption Stories

So I was DMing with someone about a different show entirely, and I brought up OUAT because I loved/hated this show so much and it’s largely based on redemption stories. I was going to briefly explain why I find Hook’s arc so compelling (though not without its flaws, of course) and Regina’s so lacking, but it turns out that I still cannot write briefly about this subject. So I’m posting this here because this is what my blog was originally about, and I find I still feel very much the same way even after a few years have passed. I want to preface this by saying I haven’t rewatched the show since it went off the air, and I certainly could’ve forgotten some things. And I’m obviously biased in that I loathe the character of Regina so much, although here I’m trying to explain exactly why I can’t stand her.

Hook and Regina were both motivated by revenge for the deaths of their first loves. Rumple murdered his ex-wife and Hook’s current lover/partner/co-captain, Milah, so Hook set out to kill Rumple himself, the Dark One, who is one of (if not the) most powerful beings in their world. Hook caused a lot of harm to innocent people as collateral damage, but eventually he gave up on the idea of revenge and basically peacefully coexisted with the guy who had murdered his first love and chopped off his hand. Regina’s mother was the one to kill her first love, but did she go after her? No, she went after the ten-year-old child (Snow) whom her mother had manipulated into telling about her first love (by playing on Snow’s feelings for her dead mother, whom Regina’s mother had murdered). Regina was going after an innocent person from the beginning because she was afraid of her mother. 

Then there’s the scale of the harm done. Regina: literally slaughtered at least two whole villages, sent countless children to be literally eaten by a cannibal, cursed an entire population by permanently altering their minds, has murdered so many people and taken so many hearts she lost track of whose was whose, illegally adopted a child whom she knowingly raised in a town where no one else grew or aged and then gaslit him when he caught on, murdered her father in order to cast the curse. Hook: was a pirate so he has killed people (we learn that his rings come from murder victims, whose names and circumstances he remembers) killed his own father (who had sold him into child slavery) thereby orphaning his little brother, killed David’s father, backhanded Belle across the face once, shot her so she’d cross the town line and lose her memories, sort of turned Baelfire over to Peter Pan (but only after Bae refused to let Hook hide him so I never got why he felt guilty over that honestly). No indiscriminate mass murder that we know of. 

And of course there’s the remorse or utter lack thereof. Regina is constantly defending her actions. I’ll use her own words to illustrate. She at one point says to Snow: “To be fair, I was threatening you. Everyone else just became collateral damage.” And then later we get this infuriating exchange:

Regina: Need I remind you I dedicated years to knocking you down? But nothing could stop you. 

Snow: You took my kingdom, cast your curse, I lost my daughter for 28 years.

Regina: And then you found her. 

Clearly no remorse or recognition for the fact that she stole Emma’s entire childhood from her and her parents. And the classic, said as she was escaping a tree that attacks people’s regret: “I did cast a curse that devastated an entire population. I have tortured and murdered. I’ve done some terrible things. I should be overflowing with regret, but I’m not.” 

I feel that I should add that she ends that last statement with “because it got me my son”. And that sounds lovely, but that means that she doesn’t regret the harm she’s done since getting him (continuing to enslave and sexually abuse her victims, murdering Graham, attempting to murder the entire town so Henry would have nobody else to love) or even more notably, the harm she’s done to Henry (raising him in a psychologically unhealthy environment, cursing him in an attempt to curse his mother, gaslighting him, attempting to murder his entire family, altering his memories, etc.) Regina says time and again that she “gave up on revenge” against Snow, but as far as I can tell, she only decided she was satisfied because she’d succeeded in irreparably harming Snow. She took away her chance to raise her daughter, who ended up being raised in an abusive foster system and felt obligated to give up her own child. 

And then I compare that to Hook’s apologizing and making things right with people he’s hurt, like Ursula, his younger brother Liam, and David. And then he and Belle become close friends and eventually they have this conversation:

Belle: I’m sorry, I can’t stay here. If Rumple finds you harboring me...

Hook: His wrath will be an added bonus.

Belle: I don’t understand. Why would you risk your life for me?

Hook: Long ago, I... I tried to kill you in the queen’s castle once. I failed. But along the way, I did something I can live with no longer. I laid a hand on you. And there’s the matter of my shooting you at the town line.

Belle: Yeah, well. You’ve changed since all that.  

Hook: Maybe. I have a long road to travel before I can be someone I can be proud of. Despite the forgiveness of others, I must forgive myself, and I’m not there yet.

So yeah, that’s a summary of why I find Hook’s redemption arc to be (somewhat) believable and satisfying and Regina’s to be... basically nonexistent. The show tells us she’s a hero and a good person now, but she never apologizes or shows remorse. She makes it abundantly clear that she’s doing good only in the hopes of getting happiness for herself, which she absolutely feels entitled to even though she’s taken it from so many others (the amount of times she complained about not getting what she wants despite occasionally doing the right thing is incredible). She still even has a bunch of hearts whose owners she apparently forgot! There’s no indication that guilt weighs on her at all, or that she even feels any guilt. I can’t buy a “redemption” from someone who never shows remorse or accepts responsibility.

Note: these quotations weren’t taken from memory, nor did I go back and watch the episodes. They came from the OUAT transcripts found here.

[scripturiends]

law school episode 9 musings

warning: very very long post ahead. i have a lot of thoughts.

hey folks — how we feeling about episode 9?

given that there are so many plotlines in the show, i’m afraid i won’t be able to extend my analysis of the episode as far as i would like, but there are three characters who stood out to me the most last night that i’d like to talk about for now:

kang dan

there’s a lot that we got to uncover about her thanks to professor yang’s trial. if i’m piecing it all together right, the basic summary of what led to her disappearance goes like this:

she was a volunteer for assemblyman ko’s campaign, but upon discovering that he was spreading fake news about his opposition, dan reported him to the authorities (i’m guessing not just the police but also the media) and became a whistleblower. assemblyman ko tried to buy her off with money, but she refused, so he attacked her where she’s most vulnerable instead — by using her family.

i’m not completely sure about this (please feel free to correct me!) but it’s either byeol is (1) the twins’ half-sister, or (2) their stepsister? it’s so hard to tell, especially since korean terms can get lost in translation in the process (i watch on netflix, if that helps). but anyway, sol and dan’s mom married someone who was abusing her, and in exchange for dan’s silence (and her fleeing), the husband signs a contract that he would stop hurting his wife.

so that’s the backbone of dan’s story. however, this still doesn’t answer a lot of things, like where seo byungju or lee manho fits into the equation, the whereabouts of their mom’s ex-husband, or why dan was sent into boston in the first place.

i usually don’t like theorizing, but i do have one: there is an ivy league school located just outside of boston — harvard. (it’s technically in cambridge but you know, i’m taking liberties here.) professor yang said in passing one episode that he thought he saw dan when he went to the school for a seminar or a talk or something. could it be that assemblyman ko offered her an education at a top school in exchange for her silence? it could explain why she gave it up all so easily. what if she took that topnotch education as a chance to prepare, so that when she came back, she had much stronger leverage to take assemblyman ko down, given the knowledge and network of connections she’ll have earned in that school?

the theory’s plausible but i might be overestimating assemblyman ko’s kindness — unless he’s insanely desperate, he might not give a damn about dan’s education. it actually benefits him more if she stayed uninformed, but still. let me know what you think about it.

yoo seungjae

in this episode, we learned a little bit more about how yoo seungjae was able to hack into the professors’ laptops, and they also confirmed some of our previous speculations about him: that his wife yujeong was an ob gyn, and so was he, and that they were trying for a baby. unfortunately, i find it all to be a bit lacking in substance. i was hoping we could get down to the nitty-gritty of why he did what he did.

i say this for one important reason: i don’t know about you guys, but i would never make such a stupid mistake in undergrad, let alone in law school. seungjae has gone to med school, so we know that he knows the repercussions of his actions. why would he go to such lengths? sure, he found an opening, he was tempted, and he took it. but he didn’t just do it once, he did it multiple times, and those offenses add up (hacking, stealing exam papers, and cheating). surely he must know that something like this can ruin careers even before they even start, and not only would he get kicked out of the school, he would also get blacklisted from the industry once he implicates himself. so we understand why he’s so hesitant to testify (especially now that his wife is pregnant).

but why did he do that in the first place? we could say he’s insecure about his skills, but he’s survived med school. how much harder could law school be for him? i just don’t think that the payoff is worth the risk. what must be so important for yoo seungjae to do all of this for? what does he get in return if he successfully pulls it off and gets straight As during his entire time in law school? who is he doing for?

i hope it runs deeper than just wanting a ‘good future’ for him and his wife and their baby or something — because he could just as easily do that as a doctor. there must be another reason he went into law.

still, though, and this is just a personal opinion, even if i did find out his entire backstory, there’s no way i could ever defend him. we see in the show how his guilt builds up (from observing how kang sol A studies so well, to his conversation with jeon yeseul in the hospital), but at this point there is no more excusing what he did. not that i ever condoned it in the first place.

we’re still in the dark about a lot of things regarding yoo seungjae. hopefully by the next episode, we get something. but until then, he is still a shady, shady man to me.

kang sol B

her screen time in this episode was short, but i still wanted to highlight her because she is pretty much a ticking time bomb.

she’s in a tight spot right now because even if she testifies about having seen the sugar packet, the prosecutor will just twist the argument by saying she colluded with a murderer just to cover up her plagiarism.

and now, seo jiho needs her help, probably for something related to his case with prosecutor jin. in exchange, she puts pressure on him to ‘confirm’ that she didn’t plagiarize in middle school, since they were schoolmates and rivals.

there may be more to this plagiarism issue than meets the eye. who knows, we might find out later on that she actually didn’t plagiarize? but given what i know now, i have no reason to believe that she didn’t. i don’t blame her specifically for that, seeing as she has to pay for the consequences for something that her awful mom forced her to do. but now that the mess has been made, i want to see how she cleans it up.

kang sol B is a very elusive character to me. the scary thing about her is that she’s on no one’s side but her own. and that’s why i think she’s a ticking time bomb.

~

bonus: han joonhwi

so that’s all i have for the serious stuff. as a bonus, i’d like to talk about han joonhwi and his four (4) children jeon yeseul, seo jiho, kang byeol, and min bokgi.

one of my friends brought up how it’s so funny how he’s somehow just at the right place at the right time all the time. this happened when he ran into kang sol A when she was looking for yeseul (i still think they were on the phone with each other beforehand but this is just my shipper self talking — truthfully, if the focus was shifted towards that phone call without divulging who it was, i have a feeling it might be more important later on), and when seo jiho confronted prosecutor jin. adding his elevator conversation with kang sol B, i think it just solidified what we already know: han joonhwi is a very compassionate person. but he doesn’t sacrifice his own personality just to appease them — he recognizes that these individuals have agency, and he’s just giving them the little push they need to make them realize what they need to do.

i also felt the need to bring up kang byeol. the show does such a good job of ensuring that all the solhwi scenes that we get, no matter how indulgent and “fanservice-y” they might seem, actually have a deeper purpose. again, i could go on and on about what each solhwi scene has actually contributed to the development of the plot, which is exactly why i love them so much! because all of their scenes are so meaningful. but anyway, it’s nice to see han joonhwi care so much for his, ehem, future sister-in-law.

and for min bokgi — this scene was so short, but i absolutely loved it so much (i tend to pay attention to the throwaway scenes): min bokgi is going off about how yoo seungjae is acting weird, and he says to joonhwi, “hyung, you should call him.” and joonhwi responds with, “sure. eat your food.” it’s such a fatherly thing to do and it’s such a great contrast to bokgi’s dynamic with sol A, with whom he’s so loud and vibrant, moods that both match their personalities, but with joonhwi, who is more subdued, he’s like a little kid in need of rescue from an older brother, or even a dad. ah, i love it so much. min bokgi is such an underrated character. i wish he had more screen time. (if he doesn’t get a central ep, well, you guys know where i’m going with this, right? it means i’ll give it to him myself.)

~

so that’s it for now! i’m sorry i went on rambling again, but if there’s anything noteworthy in this post that you think is worth discussing, please do tell! if there’s anything that you found thought-provoking in the episode that i didn’t get to touch up on, let me know as well!

i personally don’t make any theories about the overarching plot myself, seeing as by the time the new episode comes out, we get fed information that renders the theory useless. still, that doesn’t mean we should stop coming up with our own ideas. sometimes, the theories are more interesting than the canon itself.

[pandajaye]

Todoroki Family Ties (Part 8)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki, Preteen!Fuyumi, Child!Natsuo

Warnings: mention of abuse, sexual themes

After the short conversation over the phone, Enji came back inside and explained everything to Ivy after sending the boys to bed. “So, I’m taking Shoto and Touya with me to pick them up from their grandparents’ house. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to stay here. I want Fuyumi and Natsuo to have a little more warm up time with their brothers before they meet you.” In three days, Enji’s other two children, his second and third born, were to be put back into Enji’s custody. He was filled with excitement and missed them so much but he kept his stoic expression while talking about it.

Two years ago, Enji’s ex-wife, and mother to his four children, Rei, was admitted to a mental hospital for assaulting Shoto. Of course this was kept under wraps from the press but those closest to the family knew what happened while the outside world assumed she was murdered. Ivy herself wasn’t made aware of the situation until recently either. It made the number two hero look bad and gave him a terrible rep. Everyone was scared to look his way and lots of people wanted him fired from the position of hero, but their simple opinions weren’t enough to budge the idea.

Rei’s parents were horrified by the real news and saw how people were reacting to the situation. It influenced them to ask Enji to give up custody to them for the time being until they saw Enji fit to be a father again. He loved them dearly and that’s why he didn’t fight on the decision. Touya and Shoto would need training for their abilities but Fuyumi and Natsuo would be better off with the ice side of the family. On the upside, the boys got to see them when they visited every other weekend.

Enji was allowed to see them too but in a more supervised visitation way before he had to leave. Every time he had to go, the little “Bye, dad.” from Fuyumi as she hugged him tight broke his heart. She’d often shed a few tears about it but Natsuo wasn’t as vocal about how he felt. He’d only give half hugs and keep his head down the whole time. But when that car turned and went in the opposite direction of the house, he never stopped watching it. Even after it was out of view. No matter what feelings he showed, on the inside, he wished he was in the car with him. It’s not that his grandparents were bad in any way, they were great! He just hated the way they talked about him behind his back. When they thought Natsuo wasn’t listening. But he always heard it. And it always made his mouth taste bitter and his head hurt. Sure his dad messed up, but he was still just that. His dad. Soon, lost time would be made up for, and he and Fuyumi were over the moon about it.

Three days passed by quicker than expected. Two more children would enter the four person household Ivy was used to and nervous was an understatement for how she was feeling. Enji had already left with Touya and Shoto and for the time being, Ivy was alone. She spent the entire morning preparing for Natsuo and Fuyumi’s arrival. There were treats set out in the living room and in their own rooms, generous gift baskets filled with more treats and some trinkets she hoped they would enjoy. Even a nicely decorated banner up that read ‘Welcome Home!!�� in big letters.

Now she just anxiously sat on the couch. Waiting. Imagining how they would react to this new woman in their lives. Wondering if they’d even like her. To be honest, if they wanted her to leave, she would. Their family already needed to heal, it’s not fair that this random person just showed up and joined in and they’ve never even met her before. What if they hated her? Oh god. She’d fall apart. “Fuck. Now I’m more anxious than I was at first.” Not that it was a spoken rule, but something about your new step kids seeing you having a panic attack for their first impression that didn’t seem right to Ivy. So a few deep breaths, and she was able to stop one before it started. Until the panic was revived when the door started to open. She scrambled to her feet and picked up a plate of snacks from the table. ‘Here we go.’

“Ivy, we’re home!” Enji opened the door and Shoto and Touya entered first. She wondered if the other kids came until she saw two more small beings behind Enji. First, a beautiful young girl with glasses. Hair white and eyes grey like Rei’s with small bits of red for decoration. She held on to Enji’s hand while he closed the door. Another kid appeared next to her. A boy. A bit taller than her. Though he was younger, he inherited Enji’s height genetics. For a ten year old, he was as big as Touya, maybe even an inch taller than his fifteen year old brother. Then again, apparently Touya took a while to have his growth spurt. The tall boy’s hair was white like Touya and his sister’s, three little stripes of red on each side just above his ears.

Ivy immediately wore a smile as warm as the sun. “Welcome home, guys! I’m Ivy, nice to meet you!” The two just looked at each other and then their dad, who nodded towards her. Their gaze went to her but they still didn’t respond. Ivy just stood there, frozen, too scared to move. Touya took the opportunity to take the cookies out of her hand and head to his room, Shoto gorged on all the other snacks and Enji reprimanded him to not spoil his dinner. “I-I’m sorry,” Ivy got down on her knees, “I guess I’m a little obnoxious. So much for a first impression, huh?” Her head rested in her hands. Maybe she could just turn invisible so they wouldn’t see her blazing embarrassment.

During her internal breakdown, a small hand rested on her shoulder. Ivy looked up, the 2nd oldest standing in front of her and giving her a small smile, her brother not far behind. “Hello. I’m Fuyumi. This is my brother, Natsuo. Or just Natsu for short. Nice to meet you.” After Fuyumi’s introduction, Natsuo stepped forward and smiled down at Ivy. “Hiya, stepmom!” He glanced and pointed at the table where his little brother was enjoying himself. “Is all this for us? For reals?” She nodded, a huge grin on her face. “Heck yeah, dude. I ain’t no evil stepmom. I’m fun and spoil my step-babies.” Shoto stuffed another treat into his face before giving a thumbs up. “It’s true! She’s really nice and sweet. You’re gonna love her. I know I do!” Natsuo took a second and hugged Ivy before running to join his baby brother.

Fuyumi stayed, kneeling in front of Ivy. “So.... you love our dad? Is he nice to you?” Obviously, Fuyumi was smart. There was no need to be dishonest. She knew how her father was, what he did, and know she was asking if he was the same as he used to be. “Well.... he’s had to work on his attitude and how he expresses himself. But he’s definitely gotten a lot better from when we were first together. He wants to be a better man for his family and atone for his actions. He’s really winning my forgiveness everyday.”

Ivy turned to look at Enji who had taken a seat on the couch and was watching the boys indulge. There was a content smile on his face. Seeing their happiness gave him some of his own. It was definitely a nice change from the dejected faces of the past. “Fuyumi,” Ivy continued. “You don’t have to forgive your father if you don’t want to. But if you ever find yourself wanting to, and you have questions, or really questions about anything ever, you can talk to me. I want to be here for you and your brothers as much as I can. I know what it’s like to have a conflicting childhood. I wasn’t surrounded by love like you have been, but that doesn’t lessen the significance of anything you guys have been through compared to my situation. I want us to be a family and I hope I can grow on you in good time.” Fuyumi hesitated before hugging her new stepmother. “I already know you will.” Ivy embraced the hug. The rush of oxytocin was so satisfying.

“Please excuse me.” Fuyumi rose and went to sit next to her father who grinned when she joined them. This was his second chance. He already missed a few years with her and Natsuo and he couldn’t bare to miss anymore. Enji honestly felt like he needed them probably as much as they felt like they needed him. The moment he found out he could get them back he had developed a certain glow. That was the look of a man who got his babies back, and eventually, they’d have to really sit down and talk about why they had to go in the first place. As for now, they just needed to enjoy each other’s company.

At dinner, Ivy got to learn even more about her new family members. Like how Fuyumi wants to be a culinary genius one day. And how one of Natsuo’s favorite moments was when a puppy approached him on the street when he was having a bad day and made him feel so much better. Ivy hung to every word they spoke, it was all just so interesting. It got to the point where every time Natsuo thought of something new to tell, he’d interrupt his sister which Enji had to try and prevent a couple times. Though he was excited that they were already intrigued by Ivy, there was still an order of manners that needed to be abided by.

Even at bedtime, they still had so much to say, but Ivy had to ask them to wait and tell her tomorrow. They groaned but listened to her and went to bed. “They are so amazing, Enji.” Ivy smiled up at the big guy next to her, a sparkle in her eyes. “They seem to really like you. I’m glad tonight was such a success.” He pulled her into his lap and kissed her. “I know. I’m so happy, too. They’re really great kids and I wanna be the best stepmama that I can be for them. So much has happened to those sweet babies and I wanna make sure they smile from now on.” While she was talking, Enji spread little kisses on her cheeks and neck.

Ivy was quietly enjoying it, falling into a trance, but shuffled when she felt his heavy paw dragging up her thigh. “Enji-” “You’re such a great stepmother, Ivy.” He whispered into her ear while nuzzling her neck, gently nipping at the skin. “Have you ever thought about becoming just a regular mother?” She could barely hear him over the blood that started to flow around ears from how hot she was getting. “Yes. Why? Are you offering to make me one?” They worked together to move her legs so that she was straddling his waist. “If you think you’re ready for it....” His hands breached the hem of the shorts she was sleeping in, there was an ease of access since she didn’t usually sleep in underwear. The feeling of his strong digits doing nothing other than simply working her most sensitive areas made her head fall back. “I would love.... to put a baby in you, honey.” In the midst of the sudden heat rising in the room, the sounds of sloppy kisses and horny giggles began to transpire.

“Oh, Enji!~”

[camilliar]

recs for someone new to omgcp

[February 2021.]

Reading, or not reading, OMGCP fics has come up in a couple of conversations I’ve had recently with artists newish to the fandom (ie. @jovishark; @decafffff), who are making OMGCP art (!!!) but haven’t started exploring fic -- but maybe want to? Which of course reminded me that I’ve never bothered to make an actual, concrete recs list for this fandom. So, I mean. Here is one.

The approach is, what do I think about when I think about OMGCP fanfic? What comes to mind, what stands out to me? I have excluded some very popular fics. Some of these I just don’t think are very good, and others I do think are good, and/or I enjoy them, but I don’t see why you’d need me, specifically, to recommend them. I am thinking of a story like maybe i’m waking up, which I discuss below because I link to a podfic of it. It has a lot of merits, to be sure, but it’s the second-most-read fic in this fandom by hits, and it’s got thousands of comments, and it’s by an author whose work is relatively widely praised and circulated. I am not sure what telling you more about this fic will add to the conversation; if you want to find and read it, you inevitably will. I’m happy to, say, answer asks about these kinds of fics, or talk more generally about them via DM or whatever. Feel free.

Also, I don’t think there’s a point to pretending to be objective about fanfic; this list has a perspective and that perspective is mine. In this fandom I largely read stories that navigate the tension around Jack, Bitty, and Parse, in various permutations. This is not to say that I’ve never read fic about the frogs, or that I have no interest at all in other pairings, but I am by no means an expert on Dex/Nursey and can really only speak to the one fic about them that sticks out to me because it goes beyond being merely Dex/Nursey and does something else. This is just to say that I am sure there are great and interesting fics about other things and ideas--but I’m not the person to hear about those from.

Likewise, I’m not super interested in stories that really reproduce that which is already in OMGCP. I like Zimbits--albeit maybe not in the ways or for the reasons most fans would--but I do not really need to see endless iterations of the same story about them falling in love and being cute together. I don’t think these stories are bad or they shouldn’t exist or that they have no merit by default. Still, I don’t need fanfic to give me more OMGCP. I need fanfic to complicate, to comment on, and to transform OMGCP. Many people don’t work like this! Totally okay! But I can’t rec you fics that do that.

What I have noticed, however, is that over time there appears to have been a shift in how people do write fic for this fandom. (Other than, you know, increases and decreases in activity pending the status of the comic, pairings going in and out of vogue, and so on.) Early on, say during Y1 and Y2, the comic was about the group of friends having a cool time at college together; about whether the burgeoning attraction between Jack and Bitty would manifest and, if so, how; and, especially, Jack’s past coming into fuller view for Bitty and how it would have to be dealt with in order for a relationship between them to work. YMMV on how great the comic executed there, but as Y3 went on these themes increasingly disappeared from the story. I think this means a lot of fic written over 2015-2016 or 2017 has one kind of tone, and was written mostly around these questions; after that, it feels like a new crop of writers and a new crop of ideas started circulating, that is, either embracing Jack and Bitty’s canon relationship and accepting its relative straightforwardness in text--or deconstructing it, imagining what readers aren’t seeing, or how problems not dealt with in the comic would manifest later. People who have read my fic know which of these I’m mainly interested in exploring.

All of which is to say, looking at what I’m reccing here, when the fics were posted or when I first read them probably has a lot to do with why they stick out to me so much. Because there’s no real culture of fanfic criticism--and I mean that in the positivist sense of broad evaluation not explicitly for fault and merit but rather, for context--I think it’s really hard to keep this in mind. But I’m obnoxious and I can’t just be easy about things.

Fic recs

In alphabetical order, somewhat unsorted; if a stand-alone fic has a summary I’ve included it, but in other cases I’ve recced a couple of conceptually related fics or series, which I’ve tried to just describe or explain as opposed to copying the summary off AO3.

There are so many more fanfics I think are great and worth reading! In an ideal world I’d come back and add more later, or create a secondary list that’s more along the lines of “if you like this, read these,” or whatever. But, being realistic, this is a starter kit. I’m open to talking about fanfic.

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7-0-2 by Idday; Friends in Low Places and Sorry for the Blood in Your Mouth; I Wish it was Mine by blue_rocket_frost | I’m not sure it would be correct to say that I don’t like Parse/Tater, or that I’m not interested in Parse/Tater. I’m not interested in Patater a priori; I think it could be interesting, with teeth. These fics stick out to me when I think about this pairing, because they feel different. Accusations of a preference for just linking any two white men who happen to be hanging around have validity, but because of what hockey is and how it works and who’s hanging around it, it’s not exactly a leap to imagine what kind of gritty spark the friction between two closeted NHL players would create. A little violence in your sex? A little sex in your violence.

A Sight Worth Seeing by sadtomato | A four-fic Jack/Bitty/Shitty/Lardo explicit BDSM series. Either you want that or you don’t. It’s nothing hardcore, and not properly a four-way, really; more properly a kind of voyeuristic round-robin. There’s a more open and egalitarian view of sex here than I really get from the characters in the back end of the comic. It’s an expansive, propulsive view of sex and relationships that’s really nice to see. I love Lardo's detached coolness, and Bitty as a smooth operator; if you’re looking for some kind of Dom/sub dynamics world, this really isn’t it, but it’s a lively exploration into the sexual dynamics in a group of friends that’s super close to the good-times vibe you get from Haus scenes in the first couple years of extras.

call me son (one more time) by Summerfrost, Verbyna, and blithelybonny | This is a series, incomplete, and you will love it or be massively put off by it. I mean that as a compliment. I love it. The premise is, Bob Zimmermann and Kent Parson have been having sex since Kent was, like, 19. Everyone in this story has been chewed up: by themselves, by each other, by hockey. Plainly, this is a pretty bleak view of what OMGCP, as a story, is supposedly offering. If you want fic that is dark and glamorous, treading the toxic melange of substance abuse, sex-as-sublimation, and so much money you can’t possibly throw all of it away without trying, this series has that sick-inducing shimmer to it. But, again, its strength is its examination of Kent Parson, textually and meta-textually, as someone to be projected onto. Bob, Alicia, Jack, and Bitty all impute certain feelings of their own onto him, displacing their own issues to a character who’s centralized in every fic but defies neat or total comprehension. Some critiques I’ve read of this series feel it’s too dark, and I’ve also seen it argued on FFA that an overwhelming amount of praise heaped onto these stories has made it tough for other writers to make headway in writing Bob/Kent fic. But I’m also not sure you could engage with Bob/Kent fic without going down this road at some point? I’m sure there are ways to scale it back, but ultimately it’s a story about how hockey’s violent, homophobic, old-guard gatekeeping has continued to set the terms for a younger and ostensibly less toxic culture. I fully embrace PWP fics that tread on the power dynamic without fully excavating it, but buried within any PWP is the fact that a 53-year-old man is ensnaring a 19-year-old, no matter how much the latter is, realistically, into it, and legally empowered to consent. Not to mention the dynamics of it being a 53-year-old man who is the father of the 19-year-old’s ex-boyfriend, and a 53-year-old man who is an eminence grise in the field the 19-year-old is trying to make a career in  The sexual element--the vaguely incestuous nature of it--is making textual the subtext of how hockey works, actually: objectification of teenage bodies as older men’s capital.

Coach Z by thistidalwave | Just before the 2009 NHL Entry Draft, tp prospect Jack Zimmermann overdoses on his anxiety medication and is admitted to rehab. His future turns from a clear-cut road to the top into an uncertain path filled with therapy appointments, ignored text messages, a group of boys who aren't there to teach him a lesson about himself, and, of course, hockey. | I keep reccing this fic because it has 360 comments on AO3 but nobody, as far as I can tell, has ever read it; it never appears on rec lists. This isn’t the kind of fanfic I usually go in for, but I can’t help being charmed by it. This is a character study in the truest sense, a kind of Mighty Ducks-but-better view on what Jack’s time coaching peewee hockey might have been like. I have no interest in kids and my own aesthetic is maybe a little darker than this, but I admire this story because it injects vibrancy into a period of Jack’s life that OMGCP has left largely unexplored, and so has the fandom. We know nothing about what made Jack want to go to college, nothing about how he spent his days in between juniors and Samwell. It posits a very sympathetic and patient Jack/Parse dynamic, showcasing the exact kind of ragged teenage push-and-pull that would have led to the circumstances we see in Parse I-III. The outside perspective Jack needs is largely present in an OFC who’s not a love interest. Super unique, somehow both engrossing and low-key.

#dirtbags by angularmomentum | A series that is a Kent Parson/Claude Giroux fuckfest with feelings. I’ve long suspected that Parse is popular in part because he is the character who most easily elides OMGCP with the actual NHL, or rather, NHL fandom; I think he made it appealing to write OMGCP fics where the NHL is a factor. Case in point, this series, which is basically “what if Kent Parson was a real hockey player and therefore part of NHL RPS”? I have only read some NHL RPS, so I’m not the person to assess accuracy, but what I do know is superstar IRL hockey players take turns here as the caricature fanfic versions of themselves, and since Kent Parson is already that, it’s great how seamlessly he integrates into their social fabric. Rambunctious energy peppered with regret and loss, but ultimately this series is farcical, and it doesn’t take its sentimental ending too seriously--which, good.

fated to pretend by nighimpossible | 5 Jack/Kent fics that Ransom and Holster dramatically reenact for the Haus + the truth. | As a fic format, 5+1 doesn’t usually work for me, but this one isn’t just front-loaded with five too-knowing vignettes; it then wraps up by using its +1 better than you might expect. Sometimes I talk about economy of fic, and this one exemplifies it. A zero-waste fic.

go ahead and move along by originally | "Leave, Parse," Jack says. Again. Or: Kent finds himself stuck in a time loop. | Kent Parson is trapped in a Groundhog Day scenario on the day of Epikegster. I’m sure you can imagine, just from that, what happens. And yet I think this fic is super entertaining, reserving some key surprises. What this story is doing is something a lot, and perhaps even the majority, of great Jack/Parse fic wants to do: digging into the question of just why this can’t work in comic canon. Most often this is approached from the past, by writing teenage Jack/Parse deep-dives that examine their lives mid-juniors, or by writing AUs where enough circumstances are shifted that it does work, or via future fics that posit enough growth has happened, and enough things have changed. But this fic makes Parse live the same bad day again and again, testing multiple theories about just how dependent on circumstance and incident real life actually is. Another day, another tone, 10 minutes sooner, not at all--you just can’t know why it didn’t work until you exhaust every possible variable. I worry that this rec has sucked the life out of the story, though--it’s so fun!

I Saw a Life and Strange Lovers by @bluegrasshole | Most AUs in this fandom seem to retell the story in a new setting or with some big detail change, following OMGCP’s rhythm beat-for-beat. I think of this as, “It’s the plot of Check, Please, but” -- they’re doing high school football? They’re acrobats? They’re a/b/o? They’re in a DIY punk band? And so on. These two stories are not that! They’re both 1950s AUs, each deeply felt, and yet hugely different from each other. I Saw a Life is about displacement and fragmentation, two sides of a similar but incongruent social critique; Strange Lovers is a finely wrought social drama about coal mining in Nova Scotia in the 1950s, centered around historical events. I suppose a theme on this rec list is something like, “I don’t even like this, but” -- yes, okay, I don’t even like Dex/Nursey, but--! This fic is so overwhelmingly complete, the AU laid out so carefully that the story breathes with all the background details informing the writing that aren’t actually, in the story; you just know they’re below the surface. (With the exception of one investigation of Jack’s character in a short, separate fic.) I Saw a Life, meanwhile, really tests the limits of the notion that Jack and Bitty are soulmates--not by calling it into question but by asking, rather innovatively, how the setting and place of the comic itself activates that.

Les Hivers de mon enfance by staranise | What do you do when hockey is the language of prayer for your soul, and also the toxic thing that almost killed you? 2009: Jack Zimmermann takes a mental health year. God knows he needs it. | Here’s a fic by someone who’s no longer around so much, but she felt ubiquitous in 2016-2019 OMGCP fandom. Before any of that, though, she wrote this one lovely fic about Jack’s pre-Samwell recovery. The author is Canadian and really irritated by hockey culture, and I think this fic benefits greatly because she is clear-eyed about Jack’s being caught in an exploitative system; it’s hockey he’s in recovery for, in a way. There’s an epistolary element that works for me, too. I read this early on in my time in OMGCP fandom and it really stuck with me.

Lysistrata? I Hardly Know Her! (by which I mean everything) by @tomatowrites | It feels somehow like cheating to recommend OMGCP fanfics by my OMGCP BFF with whom I make an OMGCP podcast where we talk about OMGCP. You know the fics I really want to rec, like truly the ones that speak to some kind of shared depravity, are the ones where Jack is miserably mpreg for the second time and accidentally lets his kid see Kent Parson’s Long John Silver’s shrimp scampi promo spot, which obviously would get twisted into a self-hating three-way. How many times do I have to rec this fic? As many as I need to, is my feeling. If you don’t know, Long John Silver’s is an American fast-food chain that sells, like, fried pollock sandwiches; it is nautical-themed; I have never eaten there; I don’t know where there is one; I don’t eat fried fish. (Shrimp, on the other hand?) All of which is to say that it takes a real genius to investigate a premise that far out. And while a lot of people almost certainly will start reading this humanity’s depths-themed sex scene and back the fuck out, readers with refined taste will note that Kent, the point-of-view character, is right there with you, despairing that he can’t help himself. And so long as you’re in that story collection, honestly, you’ll love petite gems like Jack is transmasc, Jack and Shitty play hockey in 18th-century England, and oh, right, he’s from Georgia. Tomato holds the distinction of being probably the gamest author I know in this fandom, just really like fearless in her pursuit of any range of concept she’s pushed to. (I can push her to?) See, for example, a sublime bandom AU; Bitty is cancelled for buying a maybe-unethically exported Roman fragment of a youth’s torso; or, god, the masterwork that is this future fic series where Jack keeps relapsing and Bitty exiles him to their guesthouse. Do I think you need to read a fic where Bitty is snide about the teen prostitute whose baby they’re adopting? Yes, I mean, he would be snide, don’t tell me he wouldn’t. I could go on, but my main thing here is, if I have to pick just one, I’m going to pick this Lysistrata fic. The premise, literally, is that Bitty reads the Lysistrata and it gives him ideas. Like most of Tomato’s OMGCP fic, it’s a stripping away of the comic’s polite fiction that Jack and Bitty could possibly attain the ideal it reaches in the comic without some kind of messy, efflusive breakdown. Life is like that, you see! Tricky. Like a lot of people, although it’s tough to say precisely how many, I have always intuited that maybe Bitty is kind of a natural top? But obviously when you meet him, as a literal virgin, it’s hard to see how he’d go from zero to self-actualization so neatly. This fic floats a theory, and it has a fun little side plot for Whiskey, something I never thought about or needed before Tomato built it out herein. In conclusion, BONUS: Dex’s gay lobster novel.

only fools rush in and the light of all lights by decinq | This person wrote of the nature of the wound, one of the early, formative Jack/Bitty fics that was oft-recced when I was getting into the fandom in 2016. It forms part of a larger series that deals deeply with how Jack has been shaped by his struggles (? I hate this word) with homophobia and his own mental health. It’s a picture of the character as you might have imagined him much earlier in the comic’s run. The formatting is atrocious and he author’s flair is what Tomato would call “AO3 house style.” It’s a voice that works great for her writing. I think it’s at its best in these shorter fics; the former is about Parse and Shitty stumbling into a relationship almost accidentally; the latter, an eerie PBJ vampire fic. I had begun writing a fic where Parse is a vampire early on in this fandom, only to read this and immediately quit, because you only need one, and this one’s all I need. The Parse/Shitty rare pair fic shares its exuberance with hockey RPS when it’s good: here’s how fun it can be when you’re young, rich, and jocular. And I don’t even like accidental marriage AUs, they’re usually boring, so that says a lot. By all means, read the wound fic; read the entire series. But these are highly unusual.

OVERDOSE and Oomph and a little spin-o-rama by jedusaur | None of these are long, or plotty, and they’re all a little experimental. OVERDOSE is an AU set in a world where you know how you’ll die, but no details; Oomph, a little fic where Jack hears hockey pucks talking to him. This is the kind of stuff I used to think I’d find in fandom forever, coming out of Lotrips lurking in the 2000s: short, zany bursts of energy that surprise and delight. a little spin-o-rama peers at Kent’s character through the grim reality of being the hypertalented superstar stuck on a dead-last team. All three are sparse and stylish in a way that’s really smart, practically economical.

Sowing Season by @agrossunderstatement | Parse and Zimms, Zimms and Parse. Kent Parson's life, from the Q, through his early years with the Aces, to Jack's senior year. Canon divergent. A story of love, loss, moving on, regressing, hockey, and found families of all kinds. | Effectively a novel, digging into Kent’s personal history, mostly concerning his life in juniors but expanding into his present, overlapping with the plot of OMGCP. I think there is room enough for endless speculations on what went down pre-canon; this one offers a fuller life for Kent than nearly any others, digging into him as a whole person rather than as a satellite to Jack or the plot of the comic. Which isn’t to say that the Kent/Jack stuff isn’t dealt with here; it explicitly is. But the fact of Kent Parson’s life, if we can begin to imagine it beyond mere text, would exist before, after, and alongside Jack; he gets to juniors without Jack, presumably, and he is the captain of a hockey team without Jack, and Pinkerton lays the foundation of Parse’s character within a junior hockey that Jack also inhabits, more so that Parse existing for Jack, so to speak. And I’m not implying this latter tactic is wrong; I have certainly employed it, and others have employed it to great impact and effect. But, still, the title of this series tells you what you ought to know: Kent and his story are the potentiality of OMGCP, up to a point; seeds being planted. Young hockey players, similarly. The question implied there is, what will be reaped? And the answer to the latter, in a sense, that reaping is a sort of violence. Which makes this series sound pretty heavy, but it’s not -- more like, realistic.

(tell everyone) you were a good wife by @queerofcups | The biggest problem with pretending that he doesn’t know that Kent Parson is fucking his husband is that Jack can’t tell Kent how grateful he is. | The ne plus ultra of PBJ triangulation; I’ve been squealing to the writer about how good it is since August, begging for behind-the-scenes insights, and I’d only do that if I really meant it. The precarious social fabric stretched across these three chapters is fraying before the reader’s eyes. The details are delicious, and I don’t want to spoil them, but they sing in chorus with the plot. My favorite OMGCP fics, honestly, remove the romance narrative guardrails that keep things in the comic itself humming along. I think Dann’s take is to ask who in this comic has power and what they would end up doing with it. (Or not doing, from another angle.) At one point, early on in its telling, OMGCP looked like it was going to be a story dealing with the compounded traumas of hockey’s discontents. Then, of course, it wasn’t. This is a fic that steps back and asks what the fallout of that oversight would be. But that’s just the moldering core of this fanfic; it’s actually embroidered, like I said, with glittering detail. The color of the suit Bitty wears to his wedding is burned into my brain. The gray manicure of a woman Jack knows. The ingredients in a cake. This is one of those fics I still haven’t reviewed because the thought of stacking everything I could say about it into mere AO3 comments is inadequate.

when you’re ready by megancrtr | The Aces’ director of communications gets the call at 3:13 a.m. Jack Zimmermann has withdrawn from the draft. | “What happened at the draft” is so mythological it gets asked in the comic proper, and I’ve never counted how many fics attempt to answer this question--from Kent’s point of view, even--but it’s gotta be, oh, hundreds. This story replays the situation from the perspective of an Aces staffer who just wants to do her job, and gets at the jarring discordance between the plot of OMGCP in its quest for social justice and the business of actual hockey. Important context is that this story was written around the time the comic was playing out the end of Y3 and start of Y4, and Bitty pointedly asked Jack the question, “why can’t we?” This story reframes the question as literal, rather than rhetorical. A sterling example of fanfic being a gloss on its source.

BONUS, podfics

hockeyed up | There are many things on Jack's mind. Namely: hockey, hockey, Bitty, hockey, anxiety, hockey, hockey, anxiety, Bitty, hockey, hockey, anxiety, and hockey. | A fic read aloud by its French-Canadian author. Also a relatively early OMGCP fanfic; composed while the first semester of Y2 was posting, the story suggests a version of OMGCP that was in some ways more and in other ways less complex than what it would turn into not long after. The real power of this podfic, however, is that it’s read by the writer, so you can hear the intended emphasis in every line. Also, because she’s French-Canadian, Sophie’s intonation is what I picture when I read or write dialogue for Jack.

maybe i’m waking up | It’s almost funny. All he ever wanted was to play hockey, to play in the NHL, to win the Cup. This—Samwell, the team, the Haus—was supposed to be just a detour, but now it feels more like a destination he failed to realize he’s already reached.(Or: Jack signs with the Falconers, graduates, and leaves. It's the hardest thing he's ever done. What comes after is even harder.) | Don’t get too excited; this isn’t finished. A podfic of probably the best-known, most-recced fic in OMGCP fandom. Striking for its use of metatext woven into the story, this is one of several early longform Jack/Bitty fics that posits that maybe Jack has a lot more development to undergo before he can really, truly, be okay--or be okay enough to be with Bitty? To be honest, this story strikes me now as too long, but the parts in it that work are effective beyond that which fanfic demands. Meanwhile, this audio version only covers six chapters, but it’s so slick, so well-realized, so true to the story. Podfic as art.

my own dear friends | Ever since the day he met Jack Zimmermann, Shitty has seen it as his solemn duty to aggressively love him. (He just didn't know how aggressive the love Jack needed would be.) | There’s previous little Jack/Shitty in this fandom and a lot less quality BDSM,

the city’s ours until the fall | Kent has been, historically, good at this—forgetting about things until suddenly he doesn’t, and then it’s like the scar has never been there in the first place, just the wound. (Or: Kent Parson lets himself be happy, after all this time.) | I’ve never read this fic and I never will. I cannot imagine how, no matter how good it is, it could compare to the version that lives in my head, with Kent’s voice so totally realized. Vocal fry and pathos, a languid energy that I still think about when I think about Parse.

the model home | It’s going to be better, and that’s great, but sometimes Jack thinks, why can’t it be good right now? | j/k j/k, this is a self-reminder to finally one day review this.

[jiminsfault]

Gamin’ for love 0.2 | jjk

— pairing: gamer!Jungkook x escort!reader

— genre: 18+ / smut, angst, fluff

— word count: 13.5k

— summary: if love was a game, even Jungkook wouldn’t know how to win. Ordering an escort might help.

— warnings: sex work, oral (m & f receiving), daddy!kink, awkward tension, emo!jungkook, pining, verbal and physical abuse, threats, manipulating and controlling behavior, harassment, implications of taehyung x reader, mentions of smoking, angst (like a lot), tears, jungkook and y/n are idiots in love, fighting (not fists, just words), implied panic attack(?), implied physical abuse, language, lots of love, soft!Jungkook, degradation, spit kink, name calling, slight spanking, tiny bit of aftercare, lOVe

— thank you so much for beta reading this! @shadowsremedy​ @meowxyoong​ you guys really pulled through and saved my ass!! Also @interludemoonchild​ thank you for helping me decide stuff!

— A/N: I’m really sorry it took me half a year to finish this fic!! I’m a clown but I finally got it done and I’m so happy and proud of it, gfl really is my whole heart so I hope you’ll enjoy reading it!!

moodboard | part one | part two | masterlist

When you rang the door to Jungkook’s apartment it wasn’t long until the door swung open, in front of you Jungkook, wet with only a towel around his hips. His eyes were big and his breath a little rushed. 

“You’re earlier than expected.” Is what he greeted you with. It wasn’t unfriendly, just surprised, a smile gracing his face full of cheeks and teeth.

“Yeah, Bunny gave me a ride,” you explained, “she’s a colleague.” Jungkook nodded in understanding and made an overdramatic move to beckon you in, that made you grin widely.

As you walked through the door, you see the living room again, this time in the light of the day. The setting sun shined through the slightly closed blinds that were covering his windows.  

“It’s pretty in here... really simple and minimalistic,” you throw into the quiet. You could see Jungkook fidgeting, scratching his neck. 

“Yeah, it’s…” he thought about his words a little. “An interior designer told me it’s the latest trend...so...” he trailed off. The atmosphere was awkward, the air tense and heavy around both of you. Jungkook moved around in the background, the black TV screen showing you a blurry image of his silhouette when you sat down on the couch.

He moved around the room and clicked things on his computer, when he cautiously tried to start a conversation. “You want to watch TV? Eat something? I only have instant noodles though…” you let out a breathy giggle, as he trailed off and turned around to face him over the couch. 

“Some dick would be fine too, don’t you think?” Your response made him laugh and he nodded. “Right. Hold on, just gotta do something. I didn’t think you’d be over this quick, so I didn’t get a chance to, you know...prepare,” he chuckled. 

The clicking stopped and he walked over to the couch, still in his towel, hair slightly dried, but overall wet. As he sat down you didn’t have it within you to not stare at his body, muscles well toned and broad. His thighs, that so deliciously spread open, are big and you’d gladly suffocate between them. He noticed your ogling and blushed slightly. When he went to say something, his voice got stuck in his throat. 

You groaned. “Why are we so awkward?” Laughing it off seemed right and Jungkook joined you. 

“Ah...I’ve just never done it like this...usually I’d never have sex outside of a relationship and we don’t know each other well yet, so...” trailing off once again, he shrugged his shoulders. 

You nodded and scooted closer to him, deciding to defuse the awkwardness. You put your hand on his knee, you trailed your hands all over his muscles, higher towards his towel. “Can I take this off?” You asked with a glint in your eyes.

Jungkook wasn’t good at hiding his nervousness, that was for sure. His Adam's apple bobbed with a big swallow and quickly he whispered a shy, “yes, please.”

His hands were clammy as he fiddled around with the cushion of his soft couch. You’ll never be able to not coo at him. Even when he sat here, in all his golden glory, he was able to make you smile with his hesitation. 

Slowly you went on your knees, between his legs and you slid your hands up his well built stomach to touch his cute, dark nipples. You pinched each, Jungkook gasping with a high pitch and clenching his hands laying next to him. 

Letting your hands roam around his body, he leaned back into the pillows and breathed out, finally relaxing a little. Smiling, you smoothed your fingers over his pecks, down his body again and curled them into his towel teasingly. Moving the soft fabric down just a little, more skin revealed itself to you. 

You licked your lips in anticipation, remembering how his dick stretched you out just last week, ruined you for all the other customers. You weren’t able to walk properly for three days, still felt him inside of you. You couldn’t wait until he would thrust inside of your mouth and throb on your tongue. 

He raised his hips to make you hurry up and take off his towel. His eyes pleading as he laid a hand on your soft cheek. “Just suck me off already, baby...” he almost let out a low whine, barely catching himself. 

You hesitated, this seemed somehow off. The dominant Jungkook from last week nowhere in sight and his soft touch on your cheek had you anticipating what he was going to do next.

His eyes hardened as he lifted his hand and let it collide with your face, just softly enough to make a clap, not hard enough to sting. He was testing your waters, seeing how far he could go with you. A smile sneaked itself on his face, not the cute toothy grin, just a dangerous smirk. 

“A week is kind of a long time, huh? Do I need to remind you who’s in charge here?” He snarled. His dominance appeared out of nowhere and almost gave you whiplash. Of course, it made sense. He made it seem like you could be in charge and quickly changed his mind when you didn’t comply. Through the harsh demeanor, you could still tell that he wanted your consent for this, not sure if he could just suddenly slip into this dominant act. 

“Hmm, maybe you need to put me in my place, Daddy.” You purred. A low growl was building up in Jungkook’s chest, he pursed his lips a little and clicked his tongue. 

“Such a fucking slut,” he groaned and pulled his towel completely off, his dick already hard and standing. Precum was oozing out of its slit and slowly trickling its way down his head. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it, felt the phantom pressure of his shaft inside your walls. “Come suck me off, now.” 

The authority radiating off of him turned you on beyond belief and without hesitation you moved forward, closing your hand around his length. He breathed out, moving his hips around to get comfortable and laid his hand on top of your head. You were able to tell that he wanted you to just take him in already, putting a little pressure on and pushing you forward. Never too much, though. He still respected you too much to mistreat you.

You went down and took him in, licking along his shaft and paying attention to the grunts he made. When you suckled around his tip and flicked your tongue across his slit, he tugged at your hair particularly hard.

It felt good, he liked it when girls went down on him, but at the same time, it didn’t feel right. Jungkook would’ve hoped for you to maybe just watch a movie and eat with him. He wasn’t really up for sex, but he couldn’t take head from you and then bail. The thoughts made his dick deflate a little due to his growing discomfort. You assumed you were doing something wrong, given his reaction, and tried harder to get him up again.

But Jungkook only went softer. “Babe, this isn’t working today. I’m sorry,” he said, sounding off and stressed about something.

Curiously, you looked up at him and decided to sit back on the couch. “What’s got you thinking so much, handsome?”

Your question made him flush a faint pink, averting his eyes down. “I just...my mind’s not there. Sorry.” He threw his head against the back of the couch and grabbed his towel to cover his now limp dick.

“You don’t have to apologize, Jungkook. It’s fine, I’ll just take a cab ba-,” he scrambled up and interrupted you with his hands on your shoulders. Your mouth stood open and you leaned your head to the side in question.

“You don’t have to leave, we can just talk for a bit. I’ll pay you for the full time,” he hushed. A little confused, you raised your eyebrows and rose up from your knees to sit next to his side.

“Jungkook, I’m not here to be your friend, you know that.” Your statement was clear and he stilled, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Please, I really want some company. I could eat you out?” He suggested. You felt bad for him, he seemed troubled and you wouldn’t be able to leave him alone like this. Your soft spot for him was already too present.

Breathing out heavy, you nodded, slapping your hand on his biceps. “Alright, get dressed and I’ll stay for a bit. Only an hour though, and you have to pay me, still. This is work time I’ll be spending with you.”

So that’s what you did, cuddling into his couch and selecting a nice series to watch when he came back with sweatpants and an oversized shirt. The TV noise started to blend into the background, neither of you paying attention to the screen and rather talking to one another.

Jungkook caved in to tell you what was bugging his mind, after long convincing of him. He revealed that his ex girlfriend contacted him again, not in a good way at all. She talked down on him in a way he didn’t specify, but you could already imagine enough. The poor boy seemed like a little puddle of sadness, talking about the rude girl and how she broke his heart three years ago.

He told you about how he only concentrated on video games to start his career and didn’t prioritize her, which made her seek the attention elsewhere. His voice cracked at a point and he stood up to get water. It was obvious that it still hurt him. 

He mentioned, once his voice was smooth again, that that was the reason why he seeked out an escort. Not wanting to risk getting hurt again, he settled for an unavoidable way to not catch feelings. Through his story, you could still tell that he was seeking company, clear to see in the way he asked you to stay, willing to pay without using your services.

Once he exhaled, done with his narrative, he went quiet. “Please tell me something about you, otherwise I’ll panic about how much I just overshared and embarrassed myself.”

You chuckled airly, nodding and preparing yourself to spill your own story. He didn’t expect to hear about your manipulative ex, who you still lived with. It made him livid — to hear about the restrictions and daily struggles your ex was causing you. 

He was expressing how much he desired to kick his ass, before he calmed down and carried a more sincere expression. “You need to get out of there, Y/N. You can’t possibly consider staying with that prick!” His voice was now collected, not laced with the irritation that he felt just a moment ago. It showed how much he considered your feelings, knowing that good advice was better instead of pointless anger.

Even though you knew he was right, you couldn’t just decide to leave, without considering all the different aspects that would come with leaving your job.

Realizing how much time went by, you straightened up. “Uh, I really have to go back now. If you won’t fuck me, I’ll leave,” you murmured. If your boss would find out about how you spent your time chatting with a customer, instead of doing your job, you couldn’t imagine what the consequences would be.

You felt awkward, mentioning your profession in a heartfelt conversation. The atmosphere was broken and he rasped his throat, sitting up as well. “Yeah, right. I’ll…let me get my wallet.”

Motioning for him to stop, you shook your hands in front of you. “No, no. Not necessary. I...really enjoyed spending time with you, Jungkook. Let’s not change the memories of today. This was just us, hanging out. Alright?”

He looked you in the eyes, seeing if you were sure of it. “Let me at least give you money for a cab?”

Biting your lip, you nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, alright,” you breathed. His gaze went down to your lips, he exhaled shakily. Reaching his hand up to your cheek, he pulled your lip from between your teeth with his thumb.

He leaned in, holding eye contact and flicking down to your lips again. Clammy hands, you waited for him to meet you, leaning in yourself. It was a soft kiss, he barely put any pressure in it. You could still taste the faint strawberry flavor of his lip balm and felt the softness of his lips.

Surprisingly, it didn’t make it awkward. You smiled at him, stood up and went to get your shoes while he got his wallet. 

“Hey, uhm...before you leave, can I maybe have your number?” He suddenly asked, collecting all his bravery and holding his breath.

With a cheeky smile, you asked, “private or work reasons? Because I’m not allowed to give clients my private information.” He grinned, scratching his nape.

“Private,” he said shyly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see you again...not during working hours.” You giggled, nodding and holding your hand out for his phone. After tapping in your phone number, you saved yourself with a yellow heart and told him to call you. He assured you that he would very soon.

Before turning around to open the door, he handed you the money for your ride back and after thanking him for it, you took your leave with a smile on your face. With a weird, giddy feeling in your tummy, you went and waved a cab over, driving back to the club.

Over the next few weeks your phone had your constant attention, at home, on breaks and sometimes when you hid in the back of the club ‘to prepare drinks’.

Jungkook had the best humour and sent you the greatest memes, you had no idea where he got them from, but they always made you giggle. Sometimes he tried to flirt with you, but in a gentle, undemanding way, which made it cute and your stomach felt tingly. You’ve never had this, a guy showing interest in you for more than just your body.

You lost hours of sleep, texting him at night and once you asked why he was so active this late, he revealed that he was a professional gamer. He told you all about how he used to upload YouTube videos of him playing video games with friends. Always just for fun, until people started watching and his follower count rose through the roof.

Now he was mainly streaming on Twitch, even though he still uploaded the streams to the other platform. He stayed up late at night to cut the streams and edit them a bit, revealing his passion for video editing and photography while he was at it.

Sometimes you guys would have late night calls, you would listen to his voice and his tales about the latest games he reviewed. Once you told him about how much you loved to play video games yourself, it was a constant topic of your conversations.

At the beginning, he held back, not wanting to bore you with this kind of thing. The memory of his girlfriend and her hatred towards all video games flashing his mind. But with you shyly admitting that you always wanted to learn how to be really good at gaming, he couldn’t stop himself.

“You have to come over sometime, I’ll teach you how to get the best aim!” He exclaimed one time. You mentioned that you couldn’t play any video games at home, your boss didn’t want you to use his console and you didn’t have the money to buy one yourself.

Some nights you both fell into deep conversation about less fun matters, Jungkook insisting for you to find a job elsewhere and get out of your ex's apartment. You could only agree, but didn’t want to kill his hopes and tell him that nobody wanted to hire somebody with your history.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried before.

When the mood went more down the gutter, with time you started to reciprocate his flirting. Even sending one or two risky pictures of yourself, barely wearing anything. Jungkook could only groan when he looked at your body, looking gorgeous even just on screen. He’d prefer having the real version in front of him, but the pictures did what they were intended to do just fine.

He’d grip his half erect cock over his sweatpants and send it to you, telling you to finish what you started. You declined most of the time, giggling at home in front of your screen. Teasing was still the best weapon against a horny guy in his twenties, it always proved itself to be effective.

Only once did you give in, replying to him with all the things you wanted him to do to you. With the image of you, naked in his bed and moaning wantonly like you previously did that one night, he jerked himself off, sweaty and moaning your name. 

But the sudden attention towards your phone didn’t go unnoticed by your ex. He side eyed you when you giggled at the screen, tapping away with a grin on your face.

“What’s got you all giggly, huh?” He asked, forgetting about the dinner that was in front of him on the table. His tone wasn’t teasing, not even happy the slightest. It was controlling and insistent, not giving you space to deny his question.

“Uhm…,” you fumbled. You couldn’t tell him that you were chatting with a client, but he wouldn’t allow you to have a relationship outside of your job, either.

“It’s just a friend,” you tried to lie. You looked at him with a careful expression to see if he believed you, but his scowl proved contrary.

“You don’t have friends, who are you talking to? Should I remind you of your place, whore?” His voice raised with the words and he ended it with the screaming insult. You ducked your head in, shying away from him and locking your phone. “Give me your fucking phone, right now, if you want to live to see the next day.”

His hand reached out for the phone, but when you tucked it back to retreat from the table, he stood up and grabbed your upper arm. “Who do you think you are, disobeying me in my own house like this?”

His grip on you was hard and he squeezed until you dropped the device and he finally let go, letting you pull away. With slow steps he walked around the table like a predator, eyes still on your shocked face and snatched the phone away, looking at the display to see Jungkook’s last message. 

Gukkie [7.36 PM]: are you gonna come over tonight? Missing you.

“Do you really have to prove what a slut you are? Like I don’t already know?” He growled. Your crying blurred your sight so you only heard the slam of your phone on the table, looking up at him when he continued, “If you don’t want to end up on the street without a job, I’d suggest you to not test my limits.”

The words were final. He left the kitchen with a smirk on his face, proud that he put you back in your place. After he completely dismissed your crying figure, you could only hold your shaking figure as you sat in your chair, dinner getting cold in front of you.

You were splayed across Taehyung’s lap, bored from the conversation he and his company were having. Business usually wouldn’t be discussed in a club such as this, but Taehyung doesn’t realize these limits like others, uncaring about the location.

He pulled at his cigar and blew it away from your face, knowing how much you hate the smoke. He patted your thigh when you started to get squirmish, urging you to sit still.

Obediently, you straightened up, sighing. He gave your temple a barely there kiss, whispering into your ear, “getting impatient? Want me to fuck you tired and compliant?”

You whined, looking for his eyes, but he still had his gaze set on the man sitting on the couch across from him. The past few weeks, Taehyung was the only man accompanying you, so you had to keep him close. If he’d seek out another girl, you wouldn’t earn enough money to stay at your ex’s place. So it was natural for you to use your weapons, grinding on Taehyung’s lap until his sharp look made you whimper.

He noticed your advances and grinned, apologizing to his business partner, “I have to attend other matters now.”

Grinning, you stood up and dragged Taehyung up to the rooms. Usually, he wouldn’t put up with your behavior, hadn’t he told you before the conversation started, that he wanted you to give him a reason for an early leave.

This was going to be an extra big tip. Literally.

Before you could disappear up the stairs, your colleague called after you. “A client called and asked for you. Jungkook? He said you’d know who he was?”

She waited for your answer while you looked back at Taehyung. You really needed the money from him and your boss told you to separate private and work life, after he found out that you were conversing with a client.

“Uhm...I’m kind of not free right now?” You said sheepishly. Eying the man who walked a few stairs up, you bit your lip. You missed Jungkook, but you couldn’t risk your job. “Can you send someone else?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll just go myself? If you’re fine with me taking your customer?”

You nodded with half a mind, pushing the ugly thoughts to the back of your mind and rushed to catch up to Taehyung.

Jungkook wasn’t sure about any of this. When he called an escort and you came, he started to genuinely like you. Calling another girl over felt wrong, but he was lonely and didn’t know what to do when you disappeared. Not even ramen noodles, cheap beer and video games helped that.

His best friend was busy with deadlines and other friends weren’t in Jungkook's vocabulary. When you didn’t reply to his texts, he called the club, but you were busy. What was he supposed to do?

He would have to get the best out of this.

So he opened the door when the bell rang and let the woman inside. “I’m Candy, and you must be Jungkook?” The prostitute said with a wink and allowed herself to stride through his apartment. He swallowed the dread down and nodded, following her movements with his eyes.

“Come here,” she purred, patting the back of the couch and striding around it to sit down. He gulped loudly this time and touched his ears slightly, before walking towards her.

When he sat down, she caressed his thigh, scooting closer and putting her right hand into his hair. “What are you into, cutie?” She giggled.

What was with escorts thinking he would be submissive just because he was shy?

“A bunch of things, actually.” His tone was cold and distant, it surprised him. She didn’t seem to care or notice much, humming and moving in to kiss his jawline.

With a hurried move she pulled his face close and placed her lips onto his, starting to bite his lip and lick into his mouth. Candy overly exaggerated her moaning and moved her hand up to his crotch.

Before she could start to rub over the fabric of his jeans, Jungkook’s hand flew to hers and held it away from him. Pulling back, he removed her hand from his hair and looked like a deer caught in the headlight.

“I-...I can’t do this, I’m really sorry,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears and his bottom lip wobbling. 

She was taken aback, trying to read the situation, but staying clueless. “What do you mean?” She asked in panic, “what’s going on?”

“I just-,” he stopped, looking down at his hands laying in his lap. “I really like someone else and this feels...wrong. I’m really sorry.” His words shocked himself as well as her, trying to cope with the realisation.

She sat there, looking at him with a blank expression on her face. But Jungkook really couldn’t care about what she thought, he had just realized his feelings for a woman who was now ignoring him after seeming to be interested. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost and sad about liking you.

A tear slipped past his eyes and across his cheek, dropping onto his hand. He wiped it away quickly, moving to stand up. “I didn’t want to waste your time, I’ll still pay for the full hour. Let me get my wallet and then you can go back to actually work.”

He sounded heartbroken and even though she was only here for the money, Candy couldn’t leave him to be on his own, not like this. So she let the words slip, curiosity getting the better of her, “Do you like who I think it is? Because I noticed that she started texting someone and it was after she came back from yours last time, that she started to seem happier.”

Her words made him only feel worse, couldn’t believe how he made you happy, but you still decided to ditch him.

It made him legitimately start to sob.

He sat back down again with his hands over his eyes and shaking shoulders. “Ohh no! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t want to make you upset I-...” she trailed off, patting Jungkook’s shoulder.

“This is ridiculous!” He exclaimed, roughly wiping his tears. “I’m an idiot! I fell in love with someone who only saw me as a client and I took it too far!”

She kept moving her hand up and down his back and tried to calm him down.

In the end, after he collected himself again, Jungkook apologized for his breakdown. When he wanted to pay her extra, she waved him off, “you had to deal with my mess, it’s only fair!” he said.

But she insisted that she did it because she wanted to, she could’ve just left after he didn’t want to have sex. “You’re really sweet and I hope you’ll find a girl who appreciates it, but stop trying to get Y/N out of this. It won’t work,” she said, smiling sadly and turning to the door.

Jungkook sat down on his couch again, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. “I wish I could stop.”

Gukkie [10.28 PM]: Y/N please let me talk to you :(

Gukkie [11.57 PM]: Is it me? Did I do something wrong?

Seeing Jungkook’s messages hurt your soul, but you couldn’t respond. And you didn’t even want to. You couldn’t mean this much to him if he just went ahead and ordered another girl home.

You knew that he was just another client, but you still thought it meant more than just sex to him. Why did he even bother putting in the effort? If he wanted your body, he could have it for the money. He proved that when he went and fucked your colleague the moment you didn’t come around.

But you did ignore him for a few weeks now...and the fact that he still tried to reach you?

Maybe Jungkook wasn’t the bad guy you thought him to be. Maybe you were just doing this to get over the little tug your heart felt every time you thought of him. To make living here easier, get that bullseye off of your head, that your ex saw ever since he knew of Jungkook.

He had made it his mission to make your home a living hell and to keep you away from Jungkook. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just leave.

Maybe you were waiting for someone to save you. But that someone was buzzing your phone and you didn’t let him in.

You were too afraid.

A week passed with a lot of things on your mind. You were constantly thinking about Jungkook, how he still tried to reach out to you. You couldn’t understand his motives behind that, did he not realize that you knew of the other escort? If he thought you’d just forget about how he replaced you this quickly, he was wrong. Even though this was just work, it really did hurt you.

For most of the time, Taehyung had been visiting the club more frequently. He was still very keen on you and payed you extra most of the time, ‘for good company and good character’.

Everytime he left, your ex looked at you proudly. It made things easier for you at home. He let you eat in peace, sometimes even allowed you to sit and watch TV instead of growling at you to move to your room. When you thought you could live like this, Jungkook’s words sneaked into your head. Were you just trying to adjust to the situation or did it really get better?

Jungkook was right about telling you that you had to get out of this. Feeling yourself adjusting to living with your manipulative ex and selling your body wasn’t enjoyable, but inevitable if you were going to stay.

But how would you even manage to get away? Right now, you didn’t have any qualifications for a good job. And not much savings to even get a hotel room for a bit until you had an income and would get your own place.

“What’s taking you this long? It’s just a few drinks.” A voice boomed through the backroom you were standing in, facing the wall. It was Namjoon, one of Taehyung’s business partners, you could tell them apart by their voice easily. You didn’t bother with turning around when you heard steps and Bunny appeared as well.

“Y/N? Let me do this, there’s someone outside waiting for you.” Her tone was too happy for it to be a customer and you looked at her cheeky smile, once she arrived at the bar you were standing at.

She hurried you out of the back, alongside the tall man who complained. On your way to the entrance you walked past the booth Taehyung was sitting in, eyeing you with a questioning look.

Making an apologetic face, you shrugged and walked past, your heels clicking on the dark hardwood floor. Once out of the main area, you saw a man standing with his back to you, waiting. While he was obviously the one who asked of you, you couldn’t exactly tell if you knew him.

He was wearing a black hat, leather jacket and blue jeans. You couldn’t help the little spark of hope when you asked, “Jungkook?” Into the almost empty hall.

He turned around, dismissing the greek paintings hung onto the wall in favor of Aphrodite’s Erotes’ theme. Not knowing what to feel when you faced the man who’d been trying to reach you for weeks now, you reeled back a bit.

He hurt you, but you still missed him so much. Was this a pattern of yours? Falling for the men who hurt you the most?

“What are you doing here?” Your question made his little smile fall, his eyes growing when he saw your hesitant posture, ready to turn around and leave him there.

“I came here to see you, Y/N. You weren’t answering my calls or messages, I needed to see you.” His voice was soft, but still reverberated in the entrance hall. 

“Well, I’m busy. You can fuck one of the other girls though, right?” You spoke sarcastically, your tone full of anger and demand. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and furrowed your brows. Jungkook opened his mouth to reply but his voice got stuck in his throat. 

Trying to figure out why you were this angry at him turned out to be harder than he expected. “I’m not here for sex, Y/N. I really needed to-“

“This is a bordello, Jungkook. If you’re not here for sex, then leave.” He fished for words, taking a step towards you with worry in his eyes.

“This is his fault, am I right? He must’ve done something to you, you wouldn’t push me away like this on your own. I didn’t just imagine the way you looked at me.”

“Stop trying to solve me like I’m a puzzle! Stop contacting me and stop trying to act like you’re the innocent one here! You’re just the same as him, you lied to me and still act like you’d do everything for me! Go fuck someone else over, Jungkook.” Your voice became hoarse through half of your outburst and his eyes only grew, his mouth open because he couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“Y/N, I’m not trying to solve you, I’m trying to help and understand you. Please just talk to me! What did I do for you to bring me on one level with your asshole of an ex-boyfriend? When did I ever do any harm to you?” He gestured wildly with his hands in the air and walked closer to you, desperation in his eyes clear and he sounded really clueless.

“You fucked my coworker! Just because I wasn’t free for you to fuck! If you just wanted my body like everyone else, then why did you feel the need to go overboard and make me fall for you, Jungkook? Why do you have to hurt me when I’m already down?” Tears started to collect and you tried to fight them off. He gasped, quickly rushing over to your side and standing in front of you. You were holding yourself, trying to contain your shaking and felt small against his tall, broad frame.

“No, Y/N. I didn’t sleep with Candy, or anyone else beside you for the matter. I called her over, yes. But I just couldn’t do it. I tried to get over you, tried to make me realize that I’m just a customer for you. As soon as I hung up, I regretted it. We kissed, but I stopped her and...fuck. Y/N I fucking sobbed in front of her.” He laid his hands on your cheeks and looked you in the eye, “I never thought that I’d be able to fall for someone else after my ex hurt me. But you were there for me when you could’ve just left like everyone else did.”

He looked at you like he was searching for something inside of your eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just want you next to me, smiling and safe. Can you believe me?”

Your bottom lip wobbled and you reached up to lay your hand on top of his. “Jungkook, why can’t you make me hate you? It would be so much easier…” you muttered. Before you could say any more, steps could be heard. They were quick and when they came to a stop, you realized in what compromising position you were in.

“Y/N, did you forget where you are?” Bunny said with panic in her voice. “Taehyung is looking for you, please just get back in.”

You looked at her, seeing her big eyes. She was ready to walk back and you nodded, sending her an assuring smile. After Bunny left, you turned back to Jungkook. With much hesitation, you searched for words. “I’ll text you, once I’m not working.”

He searched for the lie in your eyes, you could tell he was unsure about leaving. “But do you accept my apology? Will you come over soon?” He asked hastily, knowing you had to get back to work. “I really want to help you, please let me,” he whispered, staring into your eyes a final time. When you nodded slowly, you took his hands off of your face.

“I know you want to, but my boss was really angry at me when he saw me texting a customer. I shouldn’t be privately affiliated with you,” you confessed.

Jungkook was biting his lip, looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry if you got in trouble over me,” he murmured. “I won’t be a customer, Y/N. I’m in this for you, not for sex.”

You looked at his face for a short, quiet moment. The pause made Jungkook reach for more words. “Come over tonight, after your work.”

His request seemed innocent, but your need to clarify took over, “but no sex! And it’ll be late until I get out.” You just had to make sure Jungkook really meant what he was saying.

He breathily chuckled at the finger that you poked in his chest, nodding as he engulfed your hand in his. You smiled at each other for the shortest moment before he whispered that ‘you should go, he’ll wait for you’.

Going back in, Bunny visibly relaxed next to her own customer, looking at you intensely. You put your index finger in front of your mouth, motioning to keep quiet about your visitor.

After your shift at the club was over, you packed your things in the changing room for all the girls that work at Aphrodite’s Erotes. Just when you were done with brushing your hair out, Candy stepped in through the door. The air immediately felt tense, the both of you meeting eyes but not saying a word.

You couldn’t explain why you felt the way you did towards her, when you were the one who told Candy to take Jungkook’s call. Now that you knew they didn’t have sex, you felt bad. It wasn’t right to be jealous when Jungkook was supposed to be a customer, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t anymore. This is after all still your job, you couldn’t start a war with your coworker.

Wetting your lips, you checked if she was occupied, seeing her apply her lipstick. “I heard that you and Jungkook didn’t fuck. So I’m sorry for being weird to you,” you said, looking at her with a sincere expression. You weren’t closer than colleagues usually are, so an apology felt out of place, but you knew it was necessary.

“You know, Jungkook is a really nice guy. But he just won’t accept that you’re in this life, you know?” Candy trailed while she still touched up parts of her makeup, leaning over the sink to get close to the mirror. “He seemed like he was forreal about you. But in a different way than Taehyung. He likes you too, as his bitch.”

You thought about her words, knowing that she was right. For Taehyung the lines between work and privacy were set in stone, you belong into his work life. It was a business deal, to be with you for his money. He didn’t have the time to go out and occupy himself with girls who try to trick him for his money, so he’d rather go out and instantly pay. This way you both knew where you were for each other.

It was like this for Jungkook, at the beginning at least. But he started to like you, ultimately not his goal when he decided to order an escort. Still, you could tell that he meant his words, you believe that he’s in it for you. Nodding, you turn away from Candy to pick up your bag.

“I’m not sure if I can do this for much longer. I’m not made to be in this life, Candy.” She looked at you through the reflection, standing behind her. “I did this because I loved someone who isn’t here for me anymore. I really want to get out of this.”

Your words made her smile in a pitying way. “Baby, if you wanna get out, try it. But where are you supposed to go?” Her question made sense, you’d been asking yourself this ever since you got dragged into this life.

Without responding to her question, maybe because you didn’t know the answer yet, you left the changing room and the whole building after saying goodbye to Bunny. Exiting the club and walking onto the streets, you grabbed your phone, checking your messages.

Gukkie [9.26 PM]: Are you already on your way? Do I need to pick you up?

You [9.34 PM]: I’m out now. I’ll get an uber, be there in 15.

When you were just about to close the messenger app to call yourself a car, the bubble meaning Jungkook was typing, popped up.

Gukkie [9.35]: I’m waiting in the parking lot actually, I knew you wouldn’t ask me for a ride ;)

Exhaling a breath that was visible because of the cold air, you chuckled quietly to yourself.

“You cooked? I thought you survived on ramen,” you said, surprise evident in your tone. Jungkook grinned proudly and pointed to the plates full of pasta, cheese on top and even real forks and spoons laid out.

As he walked towards his couch table, because that’s the only surface besides the kitchen counter in this apartment apparently, Jungkook explained the reason for his efforts. “I thought I should let us get a bit of a reset. I want to get to know you, without your work between us.” 

His words could’ve made you tear up, if you weren’t so hungry. You supposed emotions could come after your hunger has been stilled and the pasta has been consumed, it really did look delicious.

“Noodles are my forte, as ramen and pasta are in the same family, it has to be good. Don’t tell me otherwise, my feelings will get hurt.” He sniffed, playing up the act and pressing his hand where his heart sits in his chest. Laughing at his antics, you sat down next to him, grabbing your plate. “Please have a taste,” he wrapped up his speech.

It didn’t take much more than the first bite to realize, Jungkook really was talented with noodles. Moaning at the taste, you munched on the pasta and creamy sauce, turning over to the waiting man. With big eyes, he’d been watching you, waiting for your final conclusion. “It’s delicious! The best pasta I’ve probably ever had!”

This left him in delight, finally taking his own bite and throwing his body back against the couch. When he swallowed the food down, he groaned in satisfaction, “I’m such a good cook, my god.”

The rest of the meal was spent mostly in the quiet, Jungkook turned a playlist on to play for background noise. From time to time you complimented him again, making a blush slowly fade onto his protruding cheeks, eyes smiling too.

After the plates were almost licked off, you sat back into the couch pillows and watched Jungkook as he walked to his kitchen, used dishes clinking when he put them into the sink to let them soak.

Jungkook went to get into a bit more comfortable clothes than the jeans he was wearing, he offered you to change as well. You declined the offer, thanking him but thinking it wouldn’t be appropriate to wear his clothes.

Deciding that you should watch a movie, you tried to pick up a bit of small talk, to fill the quietness while Jungkook was searching through his movie collection. “That really was one of the greatest pasta I’ve ever eaten, Jungkook.” The compliment made him turn around with a big smile from where he was sitting on the floor, so you continued, “what’s your secret?”

“If I tell you, I have nothing to bribe you with to come over again,” he joked. Having the movie on start, ready to play, you completely missed what he picked out before sitting back down next to you. “It’s just adding the pasta water, is all.”

He still wore the gentle smile and his lips wouldn’t falter, leaning back into his couch and pressing play. The movie blasted through the sound system in his living room, giving a better experience.

The experience was great until about half an hour into the movie, when you accidentally looked down to the side and saw how Jungkook’s legs were spread open, innocently enough. The short sweatpants he was wearing were up until his knees but bunched together from sitting, so his thighs were on show and you remembered how good they felt underneath your fingertips. Just rippling muscles and golden skin, deliciously broad and full on display for your hungry eyes.

Jungkook and you hadn’t had any physical interaction past a few gentle touches ever since you were at his place weeks ago, so you were deprived of the feelings of his rough hands on your skin. They’d glide across your back, holding you up on his lap, looking up at your lust filled eyes. The way he would guide your movements to rub your cunt across his meaty legs, whisper encouraging words and filthy names. You could feel yourself getting hotter, pressing your own thighs against each other to create some sort of friction but suddenly, the very man of your heated daydream interrupted your fantasies.

“Y/N, are you even watching the movie?” He asked, looking at you, now sitting cross legged and turned to you on the couch. Realizing how long you’ve probably stared at his crotch and thighs, you turned red almost immediately. You felt your face heating up and could imagine very well what you’d look like, eyes opened wide as you felt like you’d been caught in the act.

“No,” you admitted honestly. Gulping, you scooted closer to Jungkook and tried reaching in to his frame but he raised one eyebrow sceptically.

He leaned back a little and took a hold of your wrist, looking in your eyes to regard you with a concerned expression. “You know that’s not what I invited you here for. No sex,” he said sternly, of course he saw where you were looking and after weeks of calls and text messages, he knew many of your thoughts. Including how much self respect is missing from you. “You’re here for a date, Y/N. I’m not expecting anything from this other than some quality time with the girl I have an embarrassingly huge crush on.”

Jungkook’s voice was laced with humor but his sincerity never wavered. He truly meant it and it made you feel horrible. “But that’s what I’m always there for, Jungkook. How do you not want to fuck me right now, I don’t understand it.”

After you spoke those words, you looked up from your hands in your lap to see his eyes full of regret. “You shouldn’t ever reduce yourself to a body. Baby, you’re a person, with valid feelings. You’re so much more worth than just sex,” he said, fully loaded with all his feelings.

“Just because I want to see you, doesn’t mean I need sex. And just because I say ‘let’s not have sex’, doesn’t mean you’re not desirable. You’re still the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, but I want this to be more than pleasure.”

His rant, words spoken with a soft tone, made your bottom lip wobble a bit, not being able to contain your feelings. Never has anyone ever told you that you’d be worth more than the price your body costs, that you’re deserving of just enjoying time with somebody. It shook you up, to see how much you mean to him, he would’ve just given up on you long ago if you wouldn’t be special to him.

Trying to wipe your tears away from your cheeks before they could roll down to your chin, you nodded, showing Jungkook that you understood what he had said. You understood that he wasn’t rejecting you, but that he just wanted to have a nice evening with you.

When you looked up at him again, eyes a little red and watery, he took your face in his hands. Wiping the tears off with his thumbs, he smiled at you. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to look at you right now. I’m undeserving of such a wonderful girl right in front of me.”

You exhaled a laugh, still sounding like you were crying but he could tell he made you feel better. “Can I kiss it better?” He whispered, inching closer.

Nodding, you held eye contact and sniffled a bit, waiting to meet his lips. When they finally clashed, it was soft, sensual. Full of emotions and you could feel how much he tried to hold you with care. He didn’t move his tongue onto your lips, just pressed his soft kiss and poured his heart out. After you parted, his hands still on each side of your face, he pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again to look at you, his teeth were on display, his lips parting to show you his widest smile.

“I’m in this with you, if you let me. I won’t give you up.”

When you came home that night, you were determined. Before opening the door, you rid yourself of the playful smile, dreaming about the way Jungkook held your hand during the drive to your place. He insisted on bringing you home, wanting to spend as much time with you as he could. When your hand was already resting on the door, he reached in and kissed your cheek, wishing you a good night. Jungkook had no clue that you already decided to leave as soon as you would be alone at home tomorrow. Once your ex will go to work, as late as ever, you’ll pack your things and get out of your own personal hell.

That was at least the plan. Until you got called in because the club was low on girls, rushing into work even though you should’ve been on your way out of the apartment with your luggage. But now it was sitting in your room, only half packed and waiting for you to get it.

Your nerves were at an all time high, not being able to concentrate on anything other than ‘how is your plan going to work out now?’

“Are you okay?” The sudden noise from behind your back made you flinch, turning around with your eyes opened wide in shock. Bunny stood in the doorway, looking at you questioningly. “You seem out of your mind today. Maybe you should go home,” she suggested.

You considered it. If you’d leave now, you could still make it before your ex will come home. But you felt bad leaving your friend almost alone on a semi busy night in the club. She saw your worry, smiling at you. “I’m telling you to leave, no buts! Get some rest and be better on your next shift.”

“Thank you, Bunny. I love you, I’ll text you as soon as I can,” you hushed with hurry. Her confused face was expected, you never once told her that you don’t want to be in this life. “I’m so sorry, I’ll go now.”

She must think you would go down with a fever, the way she looked at you seemed to speak her mind, you must be going crazy. None of it made sense to her, but you knew she’d get it once the employees had to carry out the hell that you built them tonight. Your ex was furious and he wouldn’t hold back to take it out on the other girls.

The rest of your bags were packed quickly. You never had a lot of things so you ended up with one backpack on top of your suitcase, a duffel bag slung over your back already.

Right when you closed the door to your cleaned out room, turning to the hallway, that would lead to your freedom — a key turned in the lock of the front door. You could feel the fear and tears building up in you, only imagining what was going to happen now.

And your ex, your personal devil, went beyond all you could’ve had imagined. Once he saw you, he let loose, screaming and throwing things. You flinched, curling into your frame and crying, sobbing. “What do you think you’re doing? Where do you think you’re going?” He furiously asked, burning eyes held on your shaking body. “You have nowhere to go! Except for back into that goddamn room of yours.”

Your sobs turned high in pitch, breathless and panic cursed through your veins. You knew, this couldn’t continue on like it was. But your nerves were failing you.

It started becoming a challenge to get air into your lungs and when you looked up with panicked eyes, you saw your ex coming closer, raising his hands, reaching to you. The stress made itself more present by raising a high pitched noise in your ears, blending out all noise and the voice of the man coming closer blurred out. Everything felt far away and when he finally grabbed your arm and yanked you to your right, you yelped. Seeing his hand raise to impact with your face, you clicked into autopilot.

In seconds, you renewed your hold on your baggage and you made a run to the door. It wasn’t far away, not even closed yet. Without looking back, still fighting the blurred out noises, you ran as quickly down the few stairs, out on the street and meters along the sidewalk.

Once you breathlessly stopped, collapsed down on the pathway, you looked back. He hadn’t followed you. Pitiful sobs escaped your throat once more, shaking with the adrenaline of finally escaping. You couldn’t stay there, the risk of him following you wasn’t out of the picture yet and you needed to call someone.

Like a punch into your gut, you realized that you just gave up everything. But the thought of Jungkook made everything seem like an easy battle. You’ll get through this.

That is what you repeated in your head as you started walking along the streets in the dark, dialling the saved number and sobbing into the speaker once he groaned a greeting.

“What happened, why are you crying?” He asked, suddenly sounding alert. “I’m sorry, Baby. I was asleep, I just — he what?”

At your slow explanation, disturbed by hiccups and sniffles, he put down his phone and slipped into his clothes. “Share your location with me, I’ll be right there. Don’t talk to anyone, okay? I’ll be quick!”

He hung up and you sat down on the curb after you did as he asked, shaky hands making it harder to press and your tears blurred your vision. You held your knees to your chest, laying your head down on them and breathing out heavily. It felt like no time passed when suddenly, the familiarity of Jungkook’s arms was around you, hugging you close to his body.

“Come on up, let me help you.” He guided you into the backseat, came around and sat down himself. With a short look at him, you started crying all over again. “Hey, stop crying. Please, I’ll cry too.”

He was gentle with the way he talked to you, trying to calm you down and make you look at him. “It’s fine, you’re fine.” His whispered words made you relax a little bit into the seat and to his orders you reached back to find the seatbelt, pulling it only for Jungkook to take it from you and securing it. He reached his hands up and wiped your cheek a bit with the back of his fingers, cooing at your pitiful sniffles.

On the drive to Jungkook’s place, after he went back out to get your luggage, he played calming music and you curled into yourself, lone tears still straying, shock still evident. Your ex was going to hit you, he never went that far before. He would’ve pushed you or gripped your arm harshly but he never once hit you in the face. If you wouldn’t have ran away, he would have beat you to a pulp and you shuddered at the thought.

The gentle touch of Jungkook’s hand on your shoulder shook the images out of your mind and made you look at him. Once you nodded that you were fine, he turned off the car and stepped out, retrieving your bags and making sure your steps were secure enough so you could walk on your own. They were shaky but still grounded, so you staggered in front of him through the parking lot and into the building.

Once in his apartment, Jungkook made you sit down on the couch and murmured that he was going to brew some tea, it was going to calm you down. And it did, you curled up into Jungkook’s side as he let you ramble your thoughts about the day and he just listened. Brushing up and down your back to soothe you when you started crying again, he took the half empty cup away from your hands and held you with both arms close to his chest. Jungkook turned his head to kiss the top of your head and whispered, “you did it, Y/N. You’re so strong.”

Somewhere along the way you fell asleep, causing Jungkook to carry you into his bed, unmade from how he sprung up when you called. He tucked you in, making sure the blanket covered you and put a glass of water on his nightstand in case you’d wake up thirsty. Out of respect and self restraint, he decided to grab a blanket and crash on the couch.

Jungkook’s couch was comfortable, the blanket was soft and the pillow just right. Still, sleep wasn’t welcoming him. He closed his eyes and tried his best to drift off, the hour of sleep he got before you called him wasn’t blessing him right now. He’s awake, so he sat up again. If he couldn’t sleep, he could at least work.

Work, as in start filming a video of him playing his newest game, a completely new and never seen before first person shooter. It was clearly a rip off but he had to review it since they sent him the game for free and will get extra pay if people use his code to buy the game. Giving it his all, headphones on and trying to keep it quiet because you were in his bedroom sleeping, he laid down an awesome game and just started to sum up his opinions of it, when he saw the light in the hallway flicker on.

Sucking air through his teeth, he knew you must’ve woken up and probably came to complain. When he turned his head around the back of the chair, his heart turned liquid. You came out barefoot and wearing his sweater, which was out because he was wearing it to sleep earlier and pulled it off when he left the house. It was an old, worn sweater but you still looked precious in it, no pants and ruffled hair. Your face was puffy from all the crying and your eyes were swollen and red as well.

“Hey,” he greeted you, voice just above a whisper and full of worry. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, Baby.” Jungkook turned his chair around to look at you fully.

You shook your head slowly and walked closer, looking at his screen. “Are you making a video?” Your voice was sleep drunken and he had to pull himself together to not coo at you.

Instead, he hummed and pulled you towards him with a hand on your hip. “Wanna see?” You nodded and sat down on his lap, surprising him but ultimately Jungkook decided to just quietly thank God for his blessings. Turning now both of you around again, he pulled up the already saved file of the screen recording and the separate one of his face. “I have to edit my face camera onto the game so it fits and then I have to edit out unnecessary time or lame moments.” He explained.

You leaned back into his chest, resting your head in his nape and watching him cut scenes out or edit them so that they fit, adding music and doing all kinds of other things that you were too tired to pay attention to. When he whispered that he now only has to film his review and add it onto the file, you glanced at the clock on his screen, gasping when you realized how much time went by. “Do you always spend so much time on just one video?”

“Yeah, it has to be perfect. I have a lot of followers, they won’t accept an uncut video with no background music and a fancy intro anymore. Quality is important, you know?” The nerd started to show and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from explaining more, “when I play a game and the match doesn’t turn out good enough, I have to refilm everything.”

Stunned at the work he puts into his gaming career, but also extremely worn out from the day, you yawned and stretched with a squeaky noise.

“Can I watch you play sometime?” You asked after you sat up straighter on his lap, turning your face towards his own.

He smiled at you, turning away to close the tabs on his computer before he layed back in his chair, “Hell yeah you can, or you could just join me for a match?”

Surprisingly, your Ex hadn’t bothered to find you. He had everything needed to seek out Jungkook’s place; the most obvious person for you to escape to. But instead, Bunny called you a few times over the last week that you’ve been out of the club.

She told you about the morning after you ran away, how confused all the girls were. Your ex-boyfriend and now ex-boss let her know about you leaving and showed no anger towards anyone but you. He’d clearly displayed the displeasure whenever your name fell but unexpectedly didn’t leave it out on one of the other girls.

“He announced just tonight that he found a new one, you’re being replaced by a complete rookie!” Bunny said, full of drama. “And Taehyung, I feel so bad for him. Maybe he really cared for you, Y/N.”

That did leave you with a bit of guilt, you disappeared for everyone else and didn’t ever thank Taehyung for how well he treated you, given the circumstances. He was your best customer at the club and was almost always respectful towards you and whether or not you’d be in the mood. “But he already found a liking to another girl, at a different club!” Bunny announced just before you could really think about it.

“So many people are disappointed about you leaving, it’s insane! One of my main customers told me about how a lot of people only stayed for you, our Boss is fuming with the loss of clients!”

That did soothe your soul a tiny bit, made your chest swell with pride. Even though you never wanted this life, proven by the lack of pseud and different identity. Bunny, Candy, all the other girls at the club — they enjoy being a different person, different name and completely new life. You never did that, your Ex being completely apathetic towards your comfort in the club.

Sure, it was a risk to go by your real name. At least you never lost track of who you are this way. Talking to Bunny was fun for a bit, but after three calls in one week you had to break it to her. “You know that I’m never coming back, right? And I can’t keep in contact with you much longer. I have to leave all this behind me, Bunny.”

She sighed, agreed with you and wished you the best for your life from now on. With mischief in her voice, she’d also voiced her congratulations towards a certain young man who stood in the kitchen, cooking dinner for you both. “I love you, Bunny. I’ll never forget how great of a friend you were to me.”

Before the tears that were building up could fall, you hung up. Exhaling a big breath, you stood up and joined Jungkook behind the kitchen counters, hugging him from behind.

“Are you okay, Angel?” He murmured, noticing the tension in your movements. You hummed, nodding sideways against his shoulders and kissing the fabric that laid over his back.

“I’m fine, I know I’m doing the right thing. It was good to hear about all that I’ve left behind, even hearing about my clients felt kind of reassuring.”

Jungkook fumbled around with the pots and pans on the stove before he turned around quickly. An obviously overplayed expression of shock laced over his face, he exclaimed, “I just realized that I have to prove myself against all these men! I have to be the best man who you’ve ever laid with!” He put his hand on his heart with momentum, resulting in a thumb and an almost unnoticed wrinkle of his eyebrow.

You laughed at the display of drama, invading Jungkook’s space and laying one hand on his chest, the other on his cheek. You caressed his cheek and drove back to get a gentle grip in his hair. “You already are, Jungkook. Don’t worry about that,” you breathed against his lips, pulling him closer and feeling the corners of his mouth raise into a smile. 

With heat in your stomach, you leaned in to give him a passionate kiss, slowly licking against his bottom lip and when Jungkook opened his mouth to align it with yours, he sucked on your tongue and pulled you close to his frame with both of his hands on your hips. One of them slid down to your bottom, gently rubbing the skin, still covered by your shorts, before he moaned into the kiss and grabbed a handful of your plump asscheek.

Reluctantly, you parted yourself from his kiss, already missing the press of his lips against yours and looked into his eyes with a glare full of desire. “But you can always prove it again,” you purred suggestively before completely parting yourself from his hold and walking out of the kitchen. “Make sure the food isn’t burning!”

Living with Jungkook had a lot of perks, besides his large movie collection, the delicious food and the regular cuddles he provided for you. For example, the way that you laid down for a good night's rest in his bed before you heard slow tapping on the floor. The shadow in the doorway was predictable, Jungkook standing there and seeing if you were still awake, before he walked closer and put his one knee down on the mattress.

“You know, I’m still hungry.” He said, a playful glint in his eyes as he threw his other leg over your body, covered by the blanket. “How about dessert?” He wiggled his brows, crawling over you to be directly above your face.

“I’m kind of full, though. You can have some yourself,” before you could roll to the side with a giggle, he planted his hand down on the pillow right next to your face.

“Or,” his voice dropped an octave lower, “you could sit on my face, Baby.” Unwillingly, a whimper left your mouth and you scanned his face for any sign he was just trying to make a joke. You hadn’t gotten a hand on this godly man right in front of you for weeks and for him to so casually offer his tongue, the one that curled together so well with your own, was cruel. “Seems like you’d want that?” 

His cocky tone made the pull towards him even stronger and without much more thinking, you hissed out a curse before you threw your arms around his neck and pulled Jungkook close to your body, moaning deeply into the kiss. He slotted against you perfectly, moving around to remove the blanket from your body and with a strong grip on your waist, he almost ripped your shorts, including your panties, down your legs.

“Fuck,” he groaned, moving his hand up and down your thigh before he slid to the inner leg and hesitantly brushed across your lips. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Baby? You don’t have to,” he hushed once he lifted himself up on one hand.

“Yes, I really want it. Please, Jungkook. Please make me cum.” He moaned loudly and closed his eyes forcefully, seemingly collecting himself. His chest filled with air quickly and moved with it, the friction moving against you.

“Okay, let’s switch places,” he said, hurrying the both of you around so that he was laying down on the pillow. You sat across his lap with no clue how to go about this, before Jungkook saw your obvious struggle and pulled your hips towards him. “C’mon, really wanna taste you.”

With his help, you comfortably settled down with your knees next to Jungkook’s ears and your legs opened up so he could easily have access to your glistening cunt.

Still hovering in the air, you weren’t sure what to do, you couldn’t just sit on him, right? In all the years of having sex for money, you never once experienced this.

You felt his breath on your lips, warm and tickling. “God, you’re so fucking wet already. I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured senselessly, brushing a finger through your slit and making you jump. With more determination, he parted your lips and rubbed his thumb across your wetness, collecting your juices before he circled your clit. You moaned out breathlessly, sinking a bit down towards the pleasure, towards Jungkook’s face. 

“Don’t be shy, Princess. Sit on my face, I won’t die ‘cause of a little bit of pussy, huh?” He groaned when you followed, moving your hips downwards and scooting around to fit your lips onto his mouth. His nose was brushing against the hood of your clit and you gasped, moving forward but his hands reached up to hold your cheeks. You moaned at the subtle display of dominance, the way he was controlling you when he used his hold on you to move your hips against him. At the same time, he moved up to lick a long stripe across your cunt and sucked your clit into his mouth. Gently, he took the bundle of nerves between his teeth and graced them across, making you mewl and shudder.

You needed to hold onto something, desperately gripping the head of his bed before your hand slid down your body and buried itself into Jungkook’s hair. Tugging, you ripped a moan from his chest. The sound almost vibrated against you, losing the last control you had over your hips and completely pushing onto Jungkook’s face.

“Fuck,” he muttered into your folds, licking along your entrance and moving his face with his tongue pressed against you. One of his hands moved up your front, groping your breasts and twisting your nipples. Your senses were overwhelmed, moving against his tongue and holding his hand close to you. The hand in his hair kept tugging, gracing his scalp and the moans slipped out of you like you were in a trance.

“Jungkook, I can’t I- ah!” you interrupted yourself with a high pitched noise when he slapped your ass where he was holding you. The sudden movement made you press against him after you coiled forwards, he moaned from being soaked with pussy and his nose kept a delicious pressure on your clit. “I’m cumming, please don’t stop, I’m,” he nibbled on your clit and that was the last kick over the edge, you almost screamed and wantonly moaned out his name, folding into yourself when he continued to lap up your juices. 

“You’re so hot when you cum, fuck,” he groaned with a gravelly voice and kissed your clit, smacking your butt lightly again before he used both of his hands to help you be stable. He slid from beneath you and sat down on his knees, ready to let you sink into his frame. You were sweaty, breath heavy and eyes struggling to keep open, laying on his lap.

“I’ll never get enough of your fucking cunt,” he gritted, taking your jaw in between his fingers and opening your mouth with them. If you were more concentrated on him than on calming your breathing, you would’ve clearly noticed his tongue swirling around his mouth before he pursed his lips, bowing down closer to you and spitting onto your tongue. Realizing it, you moaned before you looked into his eyes and obviously swallowed the glob of spit down, tasting a sheen of yourself in it. “Such a good slut, moaning so loud when she gets her tiny pussy eaten, hm?”

His words made your head spin, eyes rolling for a second before he manhandled you towards the pillow again, face down and legs opened. “Stay here, I’ll clean you up.” He whispered, his voice back to the familiar, soft melody.

When he came back with a warm, wet rag, he wiped your thighs up and carefully over your lips, making sure the cum wasn’t going to flake on your skin. Jungkook brought the rag back into his bathroom before he removed his pants and shirt, climbing back into the bed. 

“C’mere, Princess,” he pulled you close to his chest and put one arm underneath your neck. Leaning over you, he removed your hair from your face and stroked over it, smiling at your flatted out form. He kissed your temple and got comfortable behind you, holding your body close and feeling warm.

“Jungkook,” you whispered into the sudden dark room, not remembering it to be this dark when he walked through the door. He hummed in recognition, breathing out a sigh into your nape, ready to knock out. “I feel like I could be in love with you.”

He grunted, raising his head to look into your face. “Then let me work towards that,” he smiled, dropping an overly loud kiss onto your cheek. With a chuckle, he laid back and whispered, “you don’t need to be afraid of love. It can be a good thing.” 

It felt like he didn’t only say that to you, but also for himself. With a smile on your lips, you turned around to face his chest, putting your head onto his pecks.

Falling asleep next to him, you knew you were, where you were supposed to be.

The next morning you not only woke up to the delicious smell of pancakes but also to the loud sound system in the living room. Jungkook was playing a shooter game, yelling profanities once in a while and monotonously announcing his position on the map.

Not thinking much of it, he was a gamer after all, you slid into a sweater of his and tapped with bare feet towards the noise. First, you saw the strawberry pancakes sitting on the kitchen counter, visibly still warm. After that, you looked at Jungkook, or more like his chair. The big backrest covered his frame almost completely and you only saw his arms that were reaching towards the keyboard and mouse.

Still full of sleep, you walked towards the food. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to give you attention anyway, so food was clearly the bigger priority. After munching on one, Jungkook removed his headset and turned towards you, a grin on his face. “Slept well?” You nodded, stuffing your cheeks with more of the delicious breakfast.

Jungkook chuckled and turned back around, putting his headset on and being sucked into the game again. Mischievously, you walked around the kitchen and towards Jungkook, moving his arm from his mouse and slipping underneath to sit on his lap. “Baby, this is live-” he gasped, his eyes wide.

“Oh,” you pondered, “hello!” With a wave, you grinned into the web camera and looked down onto the screen, seeing the small window in the corner where you and Jungkook were visible. He broke into a short laugh, teeth on show and took his hands off of the keys to reposition you. Pulling up the chat of his stream, you could barely read what was commented, people spamming multiple messages in only short moments.

Jungkook’s game didn’t seem to be of interest anymore, considering how he hadn’t removed his hand off of your stomach to hold you. “What are they saying?” You curiously asked and tried to read the messages. Jungkook scrolled up in the chat to let you read a few comments and you grinned. “They all wanna know who I am.”

While you giggled because of how Jungkook rolled his eyes, he concentrated back on his game, with you on his lap this time. Absentmindedly, he muttered, “I guess you could say that she’s my gamer girlfriend.”

You looked to the side and took in his profile with wide eyes. “Heart eyes, or something,” he added, the viewers only being able to hear him because of the microphone that stood directly in front of you on the desk. The rest of the game Jungkook’s subscribers calmed a bit down from your guest appearance and enjoyed how you watched him play and started to feed him a pancake after some time passed.

Once the stream ended, with both of you waving towards the camera and Jungkook disconnecting the live broadcast, you turned towards him. He removed his headset again and lifted you, making you turn around and straddle him. “So,” you trailed. “Gamer girlfriend, huh?”

His eyes widened for a split second before he smirked. “Ah, well. I guess I said that, hm?” You smiled at his try hard, cocky expression and lifted your hands to his cheeks.

“I like the sound of that,” you whispered as you leaned in towards his face, holding eye contact.

“Yeah?” He asked, nudging your nose with his and keeping only a hair's width apart from your lips. “Guess it’s official then.”

With a chuckle, he pulled you closer to his chest and closed the distance, kissing you. He bit into your bottom lip before he licked over it, holding it between his own and moving your head to the other side, deepening the kiss.

“Then let’s play a round? You know, for the title,” you suggested, pulling away and wiggling your brows. Laughing breathily, he nodded. With an applause, you jumped from his lap and threw yourself onto the couch, waiting for Jungkook to get the controllers and starting a game for you two.

Only a few days after, Jungkook asked you to move in with him, officially. He led with the obvious argument, that you just got out of living with your ex and that moving in with Jungkook would be so fast. But he also pointed out how he was willing to help you find a job and a place to stay would definitely lift one of your worries. He insisted that you were free to leave his place whenever you wanted, just as you were free to come back anytime.

He gave you a key, shy smile on his face and his cheeks reddened a little bit. So of course you agreed. He was right when he said that you should accept the offer without thinking about the future of their relationship. In a regular time schedule, moving in together would be much after the first year.

It should be considered that your relationship wasn’t regular at all. Staying would hurt and once you found a job as a waitress in a bar Jungkook’s best friend worked at, you stopped feeling bad about constantly being at home.

Finally you were able to actually contribute to living with someone in a healthy relationship and you were overly excited for every day of coming home to Jungkook.

At home he was more of a roommate than anything, with the occasional kisses sneaked in between video game wars.

“No! Jungkook you’re going to kill me again!” You screeched, moving the joystick on your controller aggressively to make your character run away from Jungkook’s.

“Noo don’t die, you’re so sexy aha,” Jungkook quoted, pushing his shoulder into your frame to distract you. With success, the move got him the opportunity to attack your character and end the game with a win for him.

You pouted, slumping into the couch. With a pout equally deep, Jungkook turned around and cooed at your pitiful state. “I’m sorry, Baby. Let me make it up to you.”

“You said you were with me in this! Not fair! How do you play like this with your girlfriend? A little love here, sir!!”

Your tantrum made him giggle and he leaned over you. “This isn’t a love game, Baby. Winner’s losers.” 

The pout was glued onto your face from this point forward and Jungkook wasn’t able to shake it until he made a peace offering. “Let me win your heart back, Angel. I’ll let you win every round until you bully me for being a loser.”

Springing up with a gleaming face, you took the controller back into your hands. “Deal!”

© 2020 @jiminsfault. All rights reserved.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch15: This is Me

 Chapter Summary: Fliss tells Frank exactly what happened to her during her marriage.

 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Domestic abuse and violence. Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW). NO UNDERAGE READERS PLEASE!!!!!!!

 Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

 A/N: This is a REALLY heavy going chapter, but all you regulars will know this has been brewing for quite some time. PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS! If any of those things are triggers, please avoid. If anyone is wondering, the face claim for John is an older Ben Affleck (best way I can describe) in his Batman days.  

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 14

All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

.

“Hey Titch.”  Bill greeted Fliss as she walked down the steps to the pool area he and Verity both sat at the table, him drinking a coffee, Verity pouring over a book. “You’re home early.” “Well my lessons are done.” She said, shrugging. “And, I err, I need to talk to you both.”

“What’s wrong?” Verity put her book down and pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. “You’ve not broken up with Frank have you?” “What? No, no, we’re errr fine.” She sat down in the spare chair and looked at her Dad then her Mum before taking a deep breath “I got a call this morning. John’s up for Parole. His hearing is in six weeks.”

Her parents reacted exactly the way she had anticipated they would do, in a similar angry manner to her Brother who she had called after speaking to Frank. Bill made a growling noise in his throat, slamming his mug on the table whilst Verity’s right hand flew to her chest, the other reaching out to grasp at Fliss’ shoulder.

“Oh, love.” “Fucker.” Bill growled, before he shook his head and looked at Fliss “Can you appeal?” “Yeah.” She nodded “But I don’t know…” she took a deep breath “I don’t want to go back into a court room. That’s what he will want, to see me there, again…and…”

“Honey…you have to-“ “No, I don’t” Fliss cut her mother off. “Frank’s right, the days of me having to do anything are over. I’m going to speak to Greg Cullen, Frank’s friend who’s an attorney and I’m gonna look my options when the full information comes through and go from there…”

Bill nodded and Fliss didn’t miss the look he shot Verity, silently telling her to leave it.  “Sounds sensible.” he said. “So, I take it from that you’ve talked to Frank?”

Fliss nodded, “Lunchtime yeah.”

 She fell silent and Bill leaned over and gently squeezed her hand “What is it Titch?”

She looked up at him and licked her lips. “He doesn’t know everything, not how bad it got and…” she took another deep breath “I need to tell him, so, we both agreed to sit down and talk tonight but it needed to be done just the two of us. So, I was wondering….” “Of course we’ll have Mary.” Verity nodded, anticipating the question.

“We did promise to take her to the Shake Shack at some point this week.” Bill agreed “Seems as good a night as any.” Fliss smiled. “Frank’s going to explain the basics, she’s too clever not to notice something’s going on but that’s it, she won’t know any details so…”

“Okay.” Verity nodded, before she took a deep breath and stood up “I made some apple and courgette loaf…you got room for a slice?” “Always room for that!” Fliss grinned “And I wouldn’t say no to a coffee…”

Verity smiled, dropped her hand on Fliss’ shoulder as she stood up and made her way towards the house. Bill watched her go before he turned to Fliss.

“How are you really feeling?”

 “Like shit.” She said honestly “I was so upset before but Frank made me see things a little more logically once I’d finished my melt down.” “Liss, you do know this is going to be a heavy conversation.” Bill looked at her as he took a breath “Just don’t be too worried or concerned if he gets a little, I dunno, upset maybe.” Fliss nodded, she already knew that. She knew it was going to be as hard for Frank to hear as it was for her to tell him.

“But for what it’s worth…” Bill looked at her. “I’m glad you’ve got him. I’ve seen such a change in you since you met him last year, even before you started…” he made a clicking noise with his tongue and winked, causing Fliss to snort and shake her head. “He’s a good guy, and as you well know they don’t come around often.” “I know.” she chewed her lip. “Dad, you don’t think he’ll look at me any different do you, once he knows…” “Fliss, you could probably set fire to a cage full of puppies and he’d still think the sun shone out of your arse.” Bill snorted, waving off her concern.

 “Wow, that’s…dark.” Fliss raised an eyebrow.

 “Yeah, and now I think of it…he’d probably find that a little strange…and sick…” Bill mused, flashing her a wink. “But you know what I mean.” “Thanks pops.” she smiled, and Bill opened his arms and she grinned standing up. She moved to sit on her dad’s knee as he wrapped her into a hug, kissing her head.

 “Thought I got too old to sit on your lap years ago” she teased, resting her head against his.

“You’ll never be too old for a Poppa Bill snuggle.” he chuckled, rubbing her back “No matter how old you get, you’ll always be my little girl.” ***** Frank couldn’t be bothered speaking to Evelyn, he had far more pressing things on his mind. So, instead, when he arrived to pick Mary up from school he simply fired her a text message saying he would call later in the week when it was convenient to talk. To his surprise, she replied back almost immediately saying she was glad to hear from him and would Wednesday around six pm be suitable. His answer was a single word, yes, before he slid his phone back in his pocket and went in to collect Mary.

“Bit of a break in routine tonight.” he said, looking at her “Bill and V are taking you out to dinner, something about the Shake Shack?” “Yesssss!” Mary punched the air before she looked at Frank suspiciously “Hang on, why? Did you speak to Evelyn? Has something gone wrong? Did she change her mind?” “No, no nothing like that.” he shook his head “I’ve messaged Evelyn and I’m going to call her on Wednesday to sort things out properly when I can have a good discussion.” “So what’s going on?”

Frank took a deep breath, he’d agreed with Lissy he would tell Mary the basics, the very basics, so that she had a comprehension of what was happening, but he was still struggling to find the words.

 “You know that Fliss’ ex-husband…John, he went to prison right?”

 “Yeah.” “Well, he was locked up for doing some bad stuff to Fliss. Like he hurt her, a lot…” “Oh.” Mary frowned “That’s…why would he…” “Because he’s an ass hole.” Frank said simply “The point is Stack, in six week or so he’s going to go for something called Parole, you know that that is?” “No” “It’s when a prisoner is considered for early release. If John gets it, it means he will be free, but have to abide by certain rules for a while.” Mary nodded, as they reached the truck.

“So tonight me and Fliss need to talk about some stuff, about how we deal with this going forward as Fliss has a chance to give evidence at his appeal as to why he shouldn’t be let out. You following me?” Mary nodded “Evidence that proves he’s a bad guy, right?”

“Absolutely. But I don’t want you talking to anyone about this oayk? It’s private for Fliss. I’m only telling you because you have a right to understand what’s happening.” “I won’t tell anyone.” Mary nodded. “Wait, not even Roberta?” “Not even Roberta. It’s up to Fliss who she tells.”

 “But Bill and Verity will know.” “Yes.” Frank said “But I expect they’ll be upset too so…just keep it shut, please.” he ended a little lamely.

 “Okay.” Mary nodded.

They both piled in the truck and headed back to their apartment to pick up a few things for Mary, Frank having enough stashed at Fliss’ as it was before they drove over. Frank opened the gate with the fob Fliss had given him months ago, and they drove through to be greeted by Thor who was running up and down the drive chasing Bill’s terrier in some kind of odd game.

“Hey, Gorgeous.” Frank smiled as he got out of his truck and leaned down to give Fliss a soft kiss “You okay? How did they take it?” “As well as I expected. Mum kept up appearances and then left to go into the kitchen to fetch a drink so she could melt down in private and Dad, well, he was angry but…” she shrugged

“I’ve explained as well as I can to Mary” he turned his head to see her running up the drive being followed by the dogs “And I’ve told her not to mention it to anyone.”

“Okay.” Fliss nodded, her eyes also on the young girl. “Bill said after dinner, if it’s ok with you, he might take her down to the Marina to watch the night trawlers setting out. It fascinates the twins and the guys there are always happy to field their questions so…”

Frank shrugged “Yeah, if she wants. Doesn’t bother me as long as she’s in bed for a semi-reasonable hour.”

Together they made their way into the house where Bill swept Mary up into his arms in a hug as she started chattering to him about some project she was going to be working on for Girl Scouts and, after a short chat, Fliss and Frank headed back over to the annex. They made normal conversation, just like they always did as Fliss cooked them a quick, easy dinner of grilled seabass and salad, but there was an atmosphere, like a huge cloud was hanging over them. Which it was. And that the pair of them were trying to ignore it. Which they were. Eventually, when the dishes were done, the beer was opened and the wine was poured, they couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Fliss told Frank to head outside and start the fire pit, which he did whilst she disappeared upstairs before returning a little later with a small, blue ring bound book, which she held on her lap as she sat next to him. "I don't even know where to start." Fliss tucked her legs underneath her on the seat as Frank threw another chunk of wood on the fire. "I suppose the beginning is the best place."

 "Usually, yeah..." Frank smiled, sweeping a piece of her hair behind her ears as he turned side ways on the wicker couch to face her.

 “Okay.” She swallowed a bit of her wine before she placed it on the table. “Right from the beginning?”

 “Whatever you want. I’ll listen.”

 She nodded, and then with a deep breath she began to talk.

“We first met at the Olympics in 2008. It was my first big break. I was only a reserve rider but I was still buzzing you know, swept away in it all.” she smiled softly “John was on the US team, had been for a while and, well, his attention and praise, I guess it flattered me. I saw him again later on that year at the International Championships and then over the twelve months or so at Badminton, HOYS...that’s the Horse of the Year show.” she explained as Frank gave her a blank look. “All the big gigs, but it wasn't until the World Equestrian Games in 2010 that we hooked up.” Frank smiled at her choice of language as she snorted. “Yup I had a Friday night fuck.”

 He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as she continued.

“I can’t describe being on the road like that, but it’s intense. You're away for weeks and its, well it’s like a different world. From then on over the next year or so we started emailing and every chance we got be it training or competitions we met up, spent time together. Then In 2011 we basically decided to try and go for it and did the whole long distance thing whilst he was living in the US, me in the UK, and when I won my medal in 2012 he declared how much he loved me and was so proud of me in the press when he did any interviews…”

Frank watched as a slight smile spread across her face, and she bit her lip as she looked back at him, shrugging.

“It was like a fairy tale.” she whispered “I got swept up in it all and then packed up and moved to Boston in the October. That November I had my accident which you know about, and I was in a back brace for twelve weeks and he was amazing.” she shrugged. “He proposed to me that December and honestly Frank, he cared and looked after me I just…I don’t know where that John went. Looking back, I often wonder if he had some kind of brain injury that turned him into an asshole.” “Don’t make excuses for him.” Frank said softly “Please…” “I’m not.” she assured him. “I just really don’t understand.” “There’s nothing to understand.” Frank looked at her shaking his head.

“Anyway, by the February in 2013 I was just starting to exercise again. God I was in a bad way. Mentally and physically. Because I’d been immobile I was out of shape, felt fat, ugly, I’d put on a good 2 stone…or…erm… 28 pounds.” She shrugged “But John, well, he didn’t care. Or so I thought. Now I look back on it I think this is where it all started.” She reached for her wine and Frank drained the rest of his beer. He glanced at the bottle and Fliss looked at him.

 “Wanna break out the strong stuff?” she asked gently.

 “Well, if any situation warrants it, I feel this one does.” He nodded smiling.

She uncurled her legs from beneath her and Frank watched her go. Normally he would offer to fetch the drinks but he sensed she needed to move, get away from the intensity for a moment so to speak so he let her go. With a sigh his head fell back, his eyes looking up at the sky which was streaked with red and purples and pinks from the now setting sun. His head was a whirlwind of emotion already and they hadn’t even scratched the surface.

Fliss emerged from the house with a bottle of Monkey Shoulder scotch and two tumblers, one filled with ice. Frank scoffed a laugh at her, it was a long standing joke she liked ice in her shorts where as he preferred them straight, something she always pulled a face at given how he couldn’t drink anything else at room temperature.

Silently she poured him a good measure and he took it from her with a thanks as she returned to her previous position and Frank shifted slightly again to face her, his right hand curled round his drink, his left resting along the back of the garden sofa they were on. She took a sip and then once more launched back into her memories.

 “We had a Ball to attend. One that the US team were holding, and I mentioned I had nothing to wear. So, John ordered me something, a beautiful sky blue gown only it didn’t fit. When I told him and got upset he said it was a genuine mistake and he’d ordered my usual size and apologised and promised to return it, but then suggested maybe I kept it as motivation to lose the weight in time for the ball at the start of May and get into it…”

“He wanted you to lose 28 pound in two months?” Frank looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Whilst you were just recovering?”

“I did it.” she shrugged in answer to his question. “I pushed myself, skipped meals…but…” Frank made an annoyed noise in his throat, but other than that made no further comment.

“There were other little things, controlling things he did as well. Like he took over the arrangements for the wedding and governed the first time I got back on a horse, told me when I could go back to work, start the training to become a Coach…all dressed up as the fact he cared and didn’t want me to rush back into things. Then one night in the September, I snapped. There was a trip organised, a conference, for the trainee Coaches intake for that year, and he told me I wasn’t going. So I bit back, and told him that he wasn’t my father and that was the first time he hit me. Straight slap, right across the face.” Frank watched as she took a sip of her drink before she shrugged. “I locked myself in the bathroom, and he sat outside the door for hours, crying, apologising, saying he was sorry, just under a lot of stress and worried about me…begged for forgiveness…pleaded with me not to call off the wedding, and you know the stupid thing?” She looked at Frank. “I always, always swore that if a man raised his hand to me, I’d be done, out of there, but I forgave him, like an idiot. And married him four weeks later, just as planned.”

She paused for a moment, shifting slightly to pull her phone out of her pocket. Frank watched her, curiously for a moment as she tapped at the screen before she handed it to him and he glanced down. It was an article, published in Your Horse magazine, or so the tag at the top told him.

‘From Olympic Rings to Wedding Rings!’ The headline read, and he scanned down, ignoring the blurb on the text, catching the odd phrase such as ‘the stars aligned’ and ‘fairy-tale romance…’ which made him want to puke as there was nothing fairy-tale about it. Eventually he reached a photo and Frank got his first look at the man he hated with every single inch of his body. He was tall, sharp jawed, quite athletic looking. Typically handsome with dark eyes and dark hair. He stood next to Fliss in his black tuxedo, his arm curled around her waist as he smiled at the camera. Fliss looked stunning. Her wedding dress was princess like, clinched in at the waist and flared out in layer upon layer of tulle which was adorned with crystals that caught the light. Her hair was twisted up off her face and she wore some kind of diamond studded headdress. She was smiling but as Frank looked closer he could see her eyes...they didn't have that sparkle he knew and loved.

 "I hated everything about the day." She said gently. "I wanted a quiet beach wedding, somewhere warm, with a simple dress, close friends, family... a big tent with fairly lights and snack food..."  

Frank smiled as what she was describing was so effortlessly her, but the smile slipped from his face as she continued.

 "...but he insisted on the full hog. Huge Boston based wedding at a church and then a sit down reception at the Harbor with a party in the evening. But that was John. Always about showing off...even my engagement ring was another way for him to display to the world what he could afford. This huge six carat brilliant cut diamond...it was gaudy."

 Frank handed her the phone and she shut the web browser down.

 "Sounds so ungrateful doesn’t it." She snorted "Most girls would kill for a day like that"

 "Most girls don’t have a guy controlling their every move" he said gently. "It's not ungrateful at all. A wedding day should be about both people, well, so I’ve heard."

 "It was a circus." She shrugged. “There were people there whose names I didn’t even know. I didn’t want the magazines there either but he talked me round, saying that if we didn’t let them in they’d simply use unofficial photos and…well, anyway that was that.”

 Frank reached over and took the empty glass off her and topped both the tumblers up, glad of the momentary distraction. As he handed her back to her she smiled and took a sip.

“Things were fine for a while, well, in that he didn’t hit me, but then in the February of 2014 we had another argument. I’d been away with the training school and they always ran updates on their websites about the conferences, and there was a photo of me laughing with one of the other guys, another competitor from the US team who was also training to become a coach. Nothing that anyone else would read anything into…but he did. Accused me of cheating and when it told him he was being ridiculous he hit me. Only this wasn’t a slap, it was a full on punch. And he fractured my cheek bone.”

 Frank took a sharp breath, and swallowed a mouthful of scotch.

 “Once again he was sorry…and then it kinda went like that for the most. He’d go weeks without hitting me and then he’d flip and wham. A slap here and a punch there…”

The flippancy with which she was describing it, like it was something that was normal, that just happened was beginning to make Frank’s blood boil. He tried not to show outwardly what he was feeling inside, but he clearly had as Fliss reached along the back of the seat to tangle her fingers into his. He gave her hand a squeeze as she continued to talk.

“That April I was scheduled for a big competitive comeback with Team GB. I had my sponsors lined up, it was being touted on the circuit as Gallagher’s Return to Glory… press interviews, and everything….you name it. And then- “ “Hang on, Gallagher?” Frank cut her off. “Did you not change your name?” Fliss shook her head. “Nope.” She studied him for a moment, smiling. “You look surprised.”

“I am. Given how controlling he was, I expected him to want you to change it.”

“I didn’t want to. It made sense for me to keep my name, it was all about the brand, see.” She shrugged. “John, surprisingly wasn’t all that bothered.” She took a sip of her drink. “Anyway, that aside…the comeback was arranged and four weeks before I was due to fly home he told me I wasn’t going. I said he couldn’t stop me. I guess he took that as a challenge as he grabbed me by the hair and shoved my hand in the doorframe of the kitchen. Slammed it shut four times. Broke three of my fingers and dislocated my wrist. So I missed out. And I never competed again, well not professionally anyway.”

 “Fuck.” Frank’s face screwed up as he shook his head “Lissy…” He trailed off as her fingers tightened around his, and he brought her hand up to softly kiss over her knuckles, almost as if doing so would take away the pain of that injury, the injury that was long healed but had left scars deep on her soul, deeper than any physical scars could go.

“That’s when it started escalating and I ended up in hospital with a broken nose in the April, that was the result of an argument about me going out, a fractured arm in the July that was because I’d dared to refuse to have sex with him in the car outside the fucking store and two broken ribs in the October which was a result of me saying I didn’t want to host a Halloween party.  A doctor at the hospital who had been looking at my records started asking questions and gave me a leaflet on Domestic Violence which, obviously I refused to take. But then, that Christmas when he insisted on spending it alone and not with my family, I dunno why but I called one of the numbers, anonymously. Started looking into it a bit more and that’s where I got the idea to keep a diary. Document it, in case I did ever want to leave and press charges.”

 She nodded to the book she had brought with her which now rested on the table and Frank looked at it, before he turned back to her.

“You know, to many people it’s so black and white. Mum and Dad were begging me to leave him but I brushed it off. I lied to my own parents, told them they’d been work accidents and that I was fine. That’s what it turns you into, a liar, but, I loved him. Well, I thought I did. Now, looking back it was more fear than anything. He’d spent so long telling me that if I left I’d be nothing that he’d find me. I believed him, so convinced myself it was easier to stay.”

She moved, placing her tumbler on the table and reached for the book and handed it to him.

 “The rest is in there.” she said softly as he too set his glass down and took the book from her gently and he was surprised to see his hands were shaking slightly. “Apparently they say over time you recall bad memories easier than good ones, and that you can also distort them, make them worse than they actually were so I stuck to facts. It’s pretty impersonal but, well…” Frank looked at the cover before he looked back at her and she nodded. With a swallow he shifted slightly, opening it.

The first entry he saw was dated January 2nd 2015 and simply stated that John had given her a slap as she hadn’t made the bed fast enough for his liking. Then there was another on January the 21st saying he had launched a crystal decanter of whiskey at her head as she’d filled it with the wrong brand. They continued along this vein until he paused at an entry for February 12th.

 Burnt me with a cigarette on my right hip because I burnt dinner.

 Frank’s jaw clenched, but he continued to read, the diary was littered with him giving her slaps and punches for whatever fucking reason the asshole wanted, but it was the big ones that sprung out at him, that made him want to be sick.

 February 17th. Grabbed my hair and banged my face into the wall because I refused sex in the living room whilst guests were in the garden for the Spring Party.

 March 21st. Whipped me with a belt after a guy was chatting me up in a bar. Drew blood.

March 22nd. Violent sex to remind me I was his.

 At that Frank stopped reading and looked at her, his voice sticking in his throat. “Violent sex. He raped you?” Fliss took a breath. “I never actually told him no but he wouldn’t have listened if I had. He left a lot of bruises.”

 “Fucking hell, Lissy…” Frank shook his head “This…that is not…” “I know.” she soothed him softly. “I know.”

He looked at her again, her eyes shining with the emotion that her voice didn’t betray. He had no idea how she could be so calm about all this, but then he realised that was more than likely her coping mechanism. That she’d probably detached herself from all of this on purpose. Because it was sink or swim. And she’d chosen to swim.

April 13th. Choked me whilst I was in the bath. Held me underwater to the point I almost stopped breathing. Stopped when Loki bit him.

April 14th. Loki dead. John said he poisoned him as a lesson to show that he was a guard dog for the house not me.

“He almost killed you.” Frank stuttered as he looked up at her, this time unable to hide his emotions. He felt his eyes swimming and he looked away as Fliss gently took his hand again and she nodded as he looked back up at her.

“The day after he killed Loki was when I took the overdose.” She said gently. “That day when he’d choked me, as I was slipping under, I felt nothing but peace, this overwhelming sense of serenity so, I saw a way out.” She took a deep breath. “That was the point at which Bill, Mum and Steve started to get really concerned, but he managed to convince them, the doctors, me that I was depressed, that it all stemmed from my accident. I don’t think my family really believed him, not fully, but what could they do?”

At that point she sniffed and Frank saw the tears form in her eyes “I put them through so much and…”

“Stop, stop.” He said, his voice cracking as he tossed the book aside and pulled her to him. She melted into his embrace, her face pressing into his chest as he held her tightly, kissing the top of her head “None of this was your fault, none of it…” She stayed still, her shoulders shaking slightly as he simply held her close, blinking back his own tears as they sat there for a moment before she pulled back.

“The rest of it is much the same. Although he eased off a bit and convinced me that trying for a baby would solved all our issues. So I went with it. Each month it failed he’d punish me when I got my period, but you know that bit anyway.”

Frank gently reached out and wiped her tears away with his thumbs as she smiled at him sadly.

“I found out I was pregnant in the January of 2016 and that was the moment I decided I needed to get out. I couldn’t bring a baby into that.” She sniffed, her eyes swimming. “I feel so guilty about that you know, that I got rid of it. It wasn’t the baby’s fault but being tied to him for ever, I just, I couldn’t. I know that’s selfish but…”

“No, it’s not selfish.” Frank held her face in his hands as he looked at her, driving his words home “You got nothing to feel guilty about, you got that? Nothing.”

There was a silence as he simply looked at her, his chest heaving with emotion as she turned her head slightly to place a soft kiss on his palm before she leaned into his touch, like a dog seeking comfort and reassurance. As if on cue Thor leapt up onto the seat in between them, forcing his way into the middle, his back turned on Frank as he licked at Fliss’ face, soft noises and whines coming from him as he did so.

 “It’s okay…” she gently laughed at the dog, stroking his head.

Frank was almost glad of the reprieve that the German shepherd had given him because he was utterly lost. He had no idea how to comfort her, or if his words would even begin to scratch the surface of what she had told him. After a moment or two Thor settled, simply curling up in between them and lay his head on Fliss’ lap as she scratched his ears and looked at Frank. “That was when I started making plans. Told my mum I was coming to Florida for a visit and needed her to book me a ticket, but she knew. She could tell this was me crying for help, so she sorted everything out and said that her and dad were coming to get me. I had the abortion on the Tuesday morning, I was booked on a flight on Thursday evening, Thor as well…it was all ready to go…but John was supposed to be away at some kind of training conference until the Friday but he came back early.  I was packing up a few things and he caught me.” She swallowed “And then, something in me snapped, like really snapped. And I let rip. I told him he was an ass hole, that what he was doing wasn’t normal and I told him all about the baby as well, how I’d gotten rid of it because he’d have been the worst father in the world and he did a number on me which you know about. He almost killed me. The police arrived, mum had tried calling me several times and when she couldn’t get hold of me she called them, turns out so had one of the neighbours as they’d heard the screaming and shouting. That was it. He was arrested and, well, I pressed charges and moved here.”

A silence fell between them, one which Frank was desperately trying to find the words to break, but failing, miserably. He wanted to kill the fucker, it was beyond him how anyone could ever want to harm a hair on her head. Not merely because she’d been helpless, and powerless to stop it, but because she was so goddamned amazing.

 “Lissy…” he eventually said, reaching out again for her hand, not missing the fact the dog was eyeing him beadily as he did so. “I don’t know what to say…what you went through, it’s abhorrent and…”

 “You know what the worse bit was?” she looked at Frank, cutting him off. “Reliving all that in court. Despite the evidence, police catching him in the act he denied it and I had to tell everyone what he had done.  He let his Attorney cross examine me, call me a liar, and then changed his plea. Simply because he could. He wanted that one last moment of humiliation and that’s why I can’t and won’t go to his hearing in person.”

 Frank was surprised, and also a little pleased to see the fire in her eyes and the absolute conviction in her tone, it was almost like she had reached a revelation, a turning point, a moment where she seized control over it all, and when she spoke again, he realised that was exactly what she was doing.

 “When I was talking to mum and dad before, I realised that I don’t wanna live my life in this state of panic and worry about what comes next. If he gets out he gets out. I can't control that. But, like my therapist said, what I can control is how I deal with it. And the only control I have is to NOT to let him control me any-more. If I go to that parole hearing he gets me in a room with him, again, and why should he?”  She took a deep breath and looked at Frank, her large brown eyes locking onto his. “I’ll talk to Greg, he can write the statement and I’ll submit it but I’m not going.”

“You don’t have to.” He shook his head.

“I just wanna...I just want to live this normal life, with you and Mary and...be Lissy. Not Felicity, Lissy. Your Lissy.”

 “You are.” he assured her. “I love you, you know that.”

 “I know, and I love you…and God did that scare me at first because, well I hadn’t been expecting it. I was done, happy on my own and then you walked into my life…or sailed into it…” At that he let out a soft chuckle. “And I know you're not that man. You're not John and that you’d never hurt me...not because you can’t but because you don’t want to.” she took another deep breath as she glanced down at Thor who was now asleep, the dog clearly sensing no threat was there “But, Frank, there’s this part of me that thinks it's too good to be true. That one day the whole thing will come tumbling down, and I know I have no reason to think that but I can’t help but be scared. We’re only five months down the line and you're already pissed off...” “I’m not pissed off at you.” He shook his head. “I’m angry at him putting you through this. And I just want you to know that I’m not perfect, I’m uncomfortable with the fact you think I am, that you think that this…us…” He waved his hand between them. “Is something special because I treat you normally. It’s special, yeah, of course it is, but that’s because it just is. Not because I’m this magical saint like human, when in fact I’m so far from that.”

 He reached over and took both her hands in his, and intertwined their fingers, looking at her. “You know, I never thought I’d ever want to settle down, that I’d ever find someone I wanted all that domestic shit with but then…I met you and…I dunno, you just…you sideswiped me Lissy, and well, yeah, it’s really early days you’re right, and what I feel for you after such a short period of time is, well, it is scary, I’ll admit that but I wanna be in this for the long run and that means we work through whatever it is together, honestly.” She smiled “So I'll tell you when I'm scared and worried about stuff and you tell me when I'm being an idiot?”

 He laughed and nodded, “Something like that.”

 She leaned over, ignoring the large dog in between them and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “Deal.”

 He smiled and pressed his forehead to hers, but before either of them had chance to do anything or say anything else, Thor pricked his ears up and shot off the seat between them, jogging to the back door. Both of them looked to see Mary walking into the yard, followed by Verity and Bill.

 “Hey.” Verity greeted them both as Fliss smiled at her mum. “You both ok?” “Yeah.” Fliss nodded. “We’re good.”

 Bill eyed Frank a little cautiously, which didn’t pass Frank by so he simply flashed Bill a little nod and saw the man relax visibly before he held up a bag.

“Mary thought you might fancy ice cream so we brought you some back from the Shack.” He said.

“It was awesome!” Mary bounded onto Frank’s knee drawing a grunt from him as she sat perched on his lap. “I had the Oreo milkshake and a huge burger with fries and…” she paused and looked at Bill “What was that stuff on them?” “Sour cream kiddo.” Bill answered and Mary made a noise of recognition.

 “Sour cream and cheese” she nodded “And then I had a cookie dough and fudge brownie sundae…” “So basically you aint gonna want to eat for a week.” Frank looked at her, and Mary grinned.

 “We got you some of the black forest because I know you love that, Titch.” Bill said “And Mary said Frank would want the peanut butter brittle.”

 “Mary was right!” Frank grinned, hi-fiving her before he stood up, slinging her over his shoulder causing her to giggle. He placed her down, his hand gently caressing the back of her head “What do you say to Bill and V?” “I already said thanks!”

 “She did.” Verity smiled “And it was our pleasure.”

 “Go get your stuff on for bed. I’ll be up in a second.” He said to her gently and it was a testament to how tired she was that she didn’t protest. She gave Fliss a hug, then Verity and Bill before she skipped inside, Thor following.

 “I’ll put that in the freezer…unless you want some now?” Fliss made to take the bag off her Dad and looked at Frank. He shook his head.

“Save it for tomorrow, Sweetheart.”

 Fliss nodded and headed inside, Bill and Verity then turned to Frank.

 “Is…she, I mean, are you…are you both…” Verity started and Frank gave her a smile.

 “We’re ok.” He assured the woman. “I promise.”

Verity nodded as Bill looked at him.

“You sure?”

 “It wasn’t nice hearing.” Frank shrugged “I’m not sure what else I can say Bill.”

 Bill nodded and at that point Fliss returned and Verity smiled at her.

 “We’ll leave you to it.” She said, giving her a hug which she returned. Bill gently clapped his hand on Frank’s shoulder, giving it a warm squeeze and Frank knew it was the man’s way of trying to reassure him somewhat.

 He wasn’t sure whether it had worked.

***** An hour or so later after a bit of TV, Fliss announced she was going for a shower and then heading to bed. Telling her he’d be up in a moment, Frank stayed where he was, simply mulling things over in his head. He prided himself on being a calm, level headed guy, able to logically see his way through most situations but this, well this was fucking with his head. He was angry, really angry that someone had put her through all of that and he was struggling to process it.

 After torturing himself for another ten or so minutes, with a resigned sigh he pushed himself off the sofa, and turned off the TV. Once upstairs he poked his head into the spare room and saw Mary was fast asleep, Thor curled around her feet. The dog looked up at him, but made no attempt to move as he turned off the lamp and headed across the small hallway to the master bedroom. To his surprise the lamp was on but Fliss was nowhere to be found.

 Now that he thought about it, he could hear the shower was still running. She must not have gotten in straight away as she’d come upstairs a good fifteen minutes or so ago. With a slight frown he headed to the door of the bathroom and gently nudged it open a touch.

 “Lissy?” he asked softly, “Baby, you ok?”

She didn’t answer, but as the steam from the water cleared Frank could make her out through the frosted glass of the screen. She was leaning on the tiles, facing the shower, one palm flat on the wall by the side of the temperature dial, the other clamped over her mouth, and her shoulders were shaking.

 Frank felt his eyes mist up again and he pulled his top over his head before shedding the rest of his clothes and stepping into the cubicle behind her.

 “Hey…” He said gently, his hand dropping to her hip, the skin slick to his touch as she turned to face him. “Come’ere…”

 She went willingly, melting into his strong arms as they curled round her and she buried her face into his chest.

 “I’m sorry…I…” She sobbed and he simply held her close, her bare skin pressed to his as the water beat down on them both, his hands gently caressing her back.

 “Let it out, I got you…” his face pressed into her hair as he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. “I got you…”

 How long he stayed there simply holding her, he had no idea. It was as if all time had stood still and nothing existed to him, nothing but the girl he was cradling in his arms. Eventually her breathing evened out and she pulled back slightly to look at him. Without a word she stood on her toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips which he took, gratefully as he brushed her sodden hair off her face.

 “Turn around baby girl.” He said softly, and she looked at him, almost questioningly.

 “Trust me…” He assured her, and she did as she was told. Frank reached round for her shampoo, squeezed an amount onto his palm and gently began to work it into her hair. He felt her relax slightly, her shoulders dropping, the tension seeping out of her as he massaged her scalp softly, the apple and cinnamon notes from the suds rising up his nostrils went a long way to calming him too.

 “That okay?” he asked her softly, and she gave a low hmmm in response, simply leaning back further so her head was almost laying against his shoulder. He felt her relax completely against him, the suds from her hair spreading to his chest. Eventually, when he’d lathered enough he gently dropped his head, the water running off his own hair onto her shoulder, as he gently spoke into her ear and asked if she was ready to rinse it off. She nodded and allowed him to guide her round so she was facing him, tipping her head back slightly against the stream from the shower and he reached up, brushing the shampoo away from her face and down her long hair, causing her to press against him.

 Eventually her hair was completely rinsed clear and he repeated the process with her conditioner, all the time making sure to talk to her, ask her what she wanted or needed, and she caught him by surprise slightly when she asked if she could return the favour. Nodding he turned around and dipped his head slightly as she gently wound her hands into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. When she’d finished he turned back to face her, dropping his head to rinse out his hair.

 “You’re gonna get it in your eyes standing this way.” she said gently, as she looked up at him.

 “Don’t care.” He said, his hands gently resting on her hips. “Just wanna see you.” 

And he did. He drank her in, every singled damned detail. Her eyes, her nose, those little freckles that at first glance you might miss, her defined shoulders, that dip in her collar bone, the line the water was tracing between her breasts, the curve of her hips…fuck he was unashamedly aching for her now, something he knew she’d spotted but hadn’t commented on.  When he looked up he caught her eyes again, and she gently reached up with her hands, the pads of her fingers cupping his face through his short beard. He stayed still as she simply studied him, before she pulled his face down to hers where he captured her mouth in a soft, gentle kiss. He let her guide him, tell him how much she wanted, or how little she wanted, his hands simply splaying across the soft skin on her back. Eventually she pulled away and pressed her forehead to his collar bone, her hands slipping round his waist as she held onto him and he was happy to let her, simply basking in the fact she was seeking his comfort.  Eventually she pulled away and took his hand in hers, examining his fingers.

 “You’re pruned up.” She said softly and he chuckled.

 “So are you.” He pointed out, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “You ready to get out?”

She nodded, so Frank reached around her, turning off the shower before he opened the cubicle door and crossed the small bathroom, reaching for a towel which he quickly ran over his hair before he wrapped it around his waist. Lifting her robe off the hook behind the door, he held it out for her and she turned and slipped her arms into it. Frank leaned around, ensuring it was wrapped tightly around her whilst she did up the belt as he lifted another towel off the rack for her hair. He began to gently squeeze the water out of her long, auburn locks, tenderly drying her hair, hands softly rubbing over her scalp as once again she tipped her head back, eyes closed. Once he’d finished he dropped a kiss to her neck and guided her back through to the bedroom.

 Fliss made her way in as Frank shut the door behind them and she padded over towards the bed before she turned and looked at him.

 “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Nothing.” she said, “I was just thinking.” “What about?”

 “Something you said before about how you’re nothing special because you treat me normally.”

 “I’m not.”

 “Well that’s just it.” She stepped forward towards him “You are to me…no matter how many times you try and protest otherwise.”

 “Lissy…”

 “You know everything now, and you still want me…” her voice was nothing but a broken whisper and it made Frank’s heart ache.

 “Sweetheart, I’ll never not want you.” he own voiced cracked slightly.

 “Frankie, I just…” “Look, I promise you…” his nose bumped against hers. “Nothing you told me today changes the way I feel about you. How could it? You’re so strong, and brave and…”

 “I don’t feel it.” “Well you are.” he said, his hands cupping her face “Look at what you dealt with and came out the other side…please don’t ever worry about what I think of you, because honestly I think you’re the most amazing woman on the planet.” At that she smiled softly at him, as he dropped his lips to her neck, gently ghosting his mouth over her skin “And you’re mine…”

 “Promise?” She asked, her eyes fluttering shut.

 “Cross my heart.” He mumbled, gently kissing below her ear. He felt her give a soft shudder, which he took as an encouragement and gently continued his actions, tracing his mouth down her neck to where it met the soft towel of her robe. With deft hands he reached out, and gently undid the tie around her middle, causing the robe to gape open and he ran his fingers underneath the edges before he gently shrugged it off her shoulders. He placed a soft kiss to her collar bone as he felt her hands move between them, gently pulling the edge of the towel out from where it was tucked in on itself, dropping it to the floor.

 Tenderly he took her face in his hands and kissed her, softly, his tongue guiding her mouth open and she obliged, deepening the kiss slightly as her hands moved upwards, gently tangling in his hair at the nape of his neck. His movements slow and deliberate, Frank guided them her the last few steps over to the bed and laid her down, crawling over her, before his lips moved and he chained soft kisses across her jaw line, down her neck, through the valley between her breasts. He kissed the small burn scar that lay above her right hip, the origin of which he now knew,  then across towards her belly button, simply taking his god-damned time, making sure he worshiped every single inch of her body he could get his hands on. His fingers traced her thighs and then up her curves as he moved back upwards, before capturing her lips again in a soft kiss that grew more urgent, but still stayed tender as Frank poured every single emotion he was feeling into her, wanting her to understand how he felt, how much he loved her, how much that was not going to change no matter what. His hand flexed on her hip and she let out a soft moan into his mouth making him pull back slightly, and press his forehead to hers. "I love you." He said softly "I know." She replied, voice barely a whisper. “I love you too.”

His hand moved from her hip, sliding down between her legs as he simply remained where he was, his head pressed to hers and she let out a soft gasp at his touch as he gently worked her. Before long her hips started moving in time with his motions and when he slid his fingers inside of her, curling them slightly she let out a soft cry, her back arching slightly. He dipped his head, gently paying some attention to her beasts, his tongue circling her nipple, before he grazed it softly with his teeth, another action that had her crying out, begging him for more, for all of him. And he wanted to give her what she wanted, exactly what she wanted.

Moving slightly so he was fully over her, she parted her legs further to accommodate him and he took both her hands, lacing his fingers into his and gently laid them by her head as he lined himself up. With a slow, deliberate push forwards he sank into her, and she groaned, her head dropping backwards as he dropped his head slightly, the feel of her around him was almost enough to tip him over right there and then as every single sense in his body was on fire.

 He kept his movements slow, not thrusting, rolling, rocking softly into her over and over again, pressing his body to hers. Soft moans and whispers filled the room, his lips by her ears, telling her how good she was, how amazing she felt, how much he loved her, simply lavishing praise upon her, because she fucking deserved it.

 Eventually, no matter how hard he was trying to fight it, Frank could feel the ribbons in his belly starting to unravel, the familiar tightening across the base of his abdomen was growing stronger and stronger and he knew he couldn’t hold out for long.

 "Lissy..." He half whispered, half gasped into her ear, softly nipping at her pulse point as his hips continued their gentle, deep roll into her "I'm not sure how much longer... are you close baby girl? Please tell me you're close..." She didn't answer with words, instead he felt her tightening around him and he gave another groan as she let out a soft whimper. Then, he heard it, the soft sound of his name, "Frankie.." tumbling from her lips. He nudged her nose with his, making her look at him as she gave a soft moan before she tilted her head back and let out a gentle cry as her back arched, her fingers tightened around his, and she came, her eyes fluttering shut. The sight of her underneath him, giving in to him, coming undone was enough to make him tumble over the edge right after her, gently rutting up into her he felt himself go and his movements became disjointed as he groaned and came with a shudder, utterly blissed and consumed by her.

 Both of them lay still, shaking slightly with the afterglow, and Frank pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes locked straight onto hers, his hands still tangled in hers.

Hers.

Because that’s what he was. And she was his.

 “I love you.” He’d lost count of how much he’d said that over the course of the day but it didn’t matter, because he did, and he wanted her to know. As she wiggled her hands, he released them, dropping to his elbows as she gently ran the tips of her fingers up his spine and into his hair.

 “I love you too.” she replied softly, her eye shining as he leaned down to kiss her.

 When they’d recovered, Frank settled them down as he lay on his back, Fliss safely snuggled into him, head on his chest, arm thrown over his stomach, her leg draped over his. He held her close, simply nuzzling into her hair every so often. Eventually he felt her breathing drop slightly and he glanced down to see she’d fallen asleep. He lay awake for another good hour or so simply holding her as he stared into nothingness, occasionally glancing down to make sure she was still ok. He was struggling to switch off, it had been such an intense evening, and no matter how tired he felt physically, his mind was running ten to the dozen going over everything she had told him.

But, then he felt her stir besides him and he looked down at her, her eyelids were fluttering slightly as she was clearly dreaming, but a soft smile spread on her face as she nuzzled further into him, mumbling something incoherent, and that was it. He realised, she wasn’t having nightmares about it, which was something he’d been concerned about. So if she wasn’t, then why should he dwell on it anymore?

 It was done, he couldn’t change what she’d been through, but he could damned well make sure she never went through anything like that again.

 With a sigh, he gently kissed her head again and settled down against his pillow, finally allowing his mind to close off, and the tiredness catch up with him.

***** Chapter 16

[sssn-neptune-vasilias]

RWBY vs Comic

Alright, I said I was gonna do this back when the comic first started getting published but I got so frustrated reading it that I couldn’t actually keep up with it enough go through with it. I think I stopped around issue 4 because that was when I just got angry and threw my comic back into the plastic. I figure now’s as good a time as any since I’m actually rereading it now. My whole issue with the RWBY DC comics is that they’re super canon divergent but somehow still canon material. It’s so frustrating that this is the case because we’re supposed to take into account things that happen in the comic as gospel- things like Adam revealing he’d always been genocidal, Bumbleby’s bottlecap, Weiss’ zoo animal arc, etc, but a lot of these different story arcs don’t make sense in our current canon. So I’m gonna talk about them because why not.

 Issue #1:

The first issue actually isn’t that bad- mostly because it’s just an intro to the series- but there are still some huge inconsistencies between the comic and official canon.

These two panels are a fucking mess.

1) Ruby was passed out when she was delivered to Patch by Qrow. She’d just used her Silver Eyed Warrior powers for the first time, hurt Cinder, frozen the dragon, and passed out. We were literally forced to listen as Qrow carried Ruby out of the rubble and back home, because she was unconscious. But the comic has her just arriving back home all on her own. “I came back to my dad’s house.” No you didn’t, you literally woke up in your bed after what must’ve been days of being unconscious.

2) We know Blake didn’t get to Menagerie on a little wooden boat. We all watched the episode. It was a decent sized ship with multiple crew members, dozens of passengers, and literal armaments designed to destroy Grimm. Sun can’t hide in a robe for 3+ days on this boat. This boat wouldn’t have survived a Grimm attack in the first place. Idk why they decided to draw this boat instead of just drawing the Pride the way it was designed in the first place, but whatever I guess.

RNJR didn’t tell Taiyang they were leaving. Ruby and her team just left. There was a whole scene dedicated to showing the shock and horror on Tai’s face as he saw Ruby’s letter and ran out of the house hoping to catch up to his daughter before she left. Also not as important but still relevant, RNJR left during winter. There was snow on the ground. I don’t see no snow in this panel- that tree looks real green. That last issue is mostly a nitpick- who cares what season they left in tbh. But the fact that they just wrote this panel into the comic despite the fact canon shows Taiyang had no idea of Ruby’s departure- and the fact that Ruby’s departure is actually really important to a bunch of later scenes in this show is really fucking weird.

Issue #2:

I know we know next to nothing about Raven Branwen, but holy fucking shit do I wanna believe this is ridiculously out of character for her. You’re telling me that Raven actually did come visit Yang and Tai and Ruby, but the one time she ever made her presence known to any of them was to berate and terrify Ruby the one time she’d learned anything about Summer?! Like BRO. This is so fucked up! This is too fucked up! This is straight early 90′s level villainy right here. What was even the point behind this?! This scene tells us that she felt so negatively about Summer Rose that she was willing to break her silent cover just to disillusion Ruby for no other reason than to tell her she was weak. Which makes no fucking sense because when we finally meet her during season 5 Raven has nothing bad to say about Summer at all! What did Qrow say to her after they spoke? “Hey sis why the fuck are you flying around your ex’s home scaring his daughter who just lost her mother? You realize you’re talking shit about the woman who raised your child too right?” Like, this is so wildly terrible, that if we’re meant to take this into account, I don’t see how anyone who reads these comics could say anything positive about Raven ever again. This is strike one, two and three for her entire characterization.

Issue #4:

I’ve said it already but fuck this boat.

Not so much an issue with the comic as it is with RoosterTeeth’s sometimes sloppy storytelling, but we really need an exact age on Adam. Is this man a pedophile? We know Blake is about twelve here, meanwhile- besides looking maybe a little scrawnier- Adam looks the same as he did during the show. How old is this kid right here? Fifteen? Seventeen? Was he 20 during the events of volume 1? Was he 25? I really dislike this specific problem RT has created because at no point during canon were we led to believe that Adam was significantly older than Blake or our other characters, but here in the comic we’re getting huge pedo vibes. Idk if this was RoosterTeeth retroactively trying to throw Adam’s character even further into question but... Idk man, RT y’all need to hurry up and carbon date this kid because I’m really not liking this.

I’m not gonna harp on the whole “Adam as a revolutionary vs Adam as a genocidal maniac” issue again. Most of y’all already know where I stand on this and have either made up your minds that either, yes, Adam’s sudden change towards being genocidal after being forcibly conscripted by Cinder doesn’t make much sense, or, no, Adam’s behavior is entirely in line with what little we’d seen of him up to that point in the story. I’m not trying to change anyone’s opinions on this issue, I’ve got about a dozen other posts for that. My issue with these panels specifically is that this is the moment Blake discovers Adam is genocidal. This is the moment Blake realizes that Adam never wanted peace, never wanted coexistence, never wanted what the White Fang actually wanted in the first place. He wanted Faunus supremacy- a goal entirely removed from the White Fang’s goal of equality between Faunus and humans. This is the moment Blake realizes that his ideology is so far from what it is she herself wants. If this is correct, why does Blake never mention this AT ALL when she’s talking about Adam. When the conversation comes up during season 3, she specifically states that Adam’s change was gradual. Not that he’d been hiding who he really was from her but that he’d become a completely different person from the man she’d originally known. I recognize that a lot of people say that this could be explained away as evidence of Blake’s abuse- oftentimes abusers don’t even realize just how monstrous their abusers are, even after they’ve escaped from said abuse. But this is just such a monumentally larger issue than manipulation and abuse. Adam is outright saying that he wants genocide! He’s not trying to hide it, he’s not trying to lie, he’s not trying to manipulate her! He’s telling her explicitly that he wishes he could kill as many humans as possible. But during the Black Trailer she’s still asking Adam about the crew members as if they hadn’t had this conversation hours ago! During season 2 she’s drawing him in her notebook as if she misses him! During season 3 she’s explaining that he’s simply misguided! This is apologia of the umpteenth level that is absolutely inexcusable. If I’m honestly supposed to be made to believe that Blake knew Adam was genocidal from before the events of the Black trailer and season 1 but still had feelings for him... I’m sorry but I’ve lost any and all respect for her entire character. You can’t have feelings for someone who’s genocidal- who you know is genocidal- and expect sympathy. No amount of abuse would forgive someone for having feelings for Hitler.

I recognize the comics aren’t supposed to be a shot for shot recreation of the show, but what the fuck is this panel? The frame of Adam dismembering Yang was such a good, amazing, impactful frame. The black and red framing, the yellow of Yang’s hair and weapons, the red of Adam’s sword. Why would you not even try to recreate that?

Leaving nitpicks for the end, really wish they hadn’t used “sunflower” here. That’s Yang/Ren. But again, the comic is made by people who aren’t in the fndm and don’t interact with the RWBY community at large in the first place, so of course they wouldn’t know.

Issue #5:

Why does Blake seem so ooc here. Like, the fact that she’s trying to make Weiss feel guilty for “cheating” in a “win by any means necessary” free for all match is really??? Weird??? When we know Blake isn’t above using underhanded tricks herself considering what she did to Reese during the tournament and her Semblance in general??? But whatever, that’s mostly a nitpick as well.

Issue #7:

My issue with this story is that it ends with Yang like, wistfully thinking of spending more time with Blake. But this is before she even put the prosthetic on. This is before she even got to talk with Weiss after meeting up with Raven. This is so early on in her healing process that I find it extremely difficult to believe that Yang is fondly remembering any time she spent with Blake. When Ruby talks to her during 3.12, she was angry that Blake had left her! Abandoned her! And then in the conversation she has with Weiss that happens after this event in the comic she’s still frustrated with Blake for leaving. So like... did she suddenly forgive Blake just a few weeks into her recovery and then relapse back into feeling like she’d abandoned her? Wtf is this?

Issue #9:

I know she’s obviously supposed to be drunk here, and we barely got to know her during the short scenes she had, but like... she never struck me as this kind of person. To literally forget how old her daughter is? Like...???? The same woman who was so perceptive she was able to recognize that Whitley was acting out because he’d felt lonely and abandoned by his sisters? Doesn’t know how old one of her children is? This is silly.

This isn’t the same woman we met during season 7. This isn’t the same quick witted woman who immediately directed Weiss to the cameras she’d hidden around the house when it was time to spring the trap on Jacques. This isn’t the same woman who was so honest when she admitted to her own faults just a few short months after this scene supposedly took place. You could argue that the events of this comic are what led Willow to become the person we meet later on, but like... That’s an absolutely ridiculous amount of offscreen growth you’re expecting me to just assume has happened. These aren’t the same people. This is ridiculous.

Issue #12:

This seems so ooc for Sun. Why is he literally begging her to run away and not face a problem when his entire relationship with Blake up to and past this point is him teaching Blake to love herself enough to face her problems head-on in the first place? This is so weird and gross imo because it just feels like they’re warping Sun’s character to make it look like Yang is the only good influence in her life when that’s simply not the case. Every conversation Sun has with Blake from season 1 to season 6 is him telling her that she deserves happiness, love, and to forgive herself. There are multiple songs about this aspect of their relationship! Sun has helped Blake grow just as much as Yang has. Why is Sun taking this approach to manipulate Blake into staying silent about something that’s bothering her? On top of that, Sun’s never been the brightest banana of the bunch anyway, why the FUCK is he smart enough here to recognize that if Blake tells the truth and makes those people feel bad, that they’d draw more Grimm? He’s never been this intuitive before. It really feels like they made him smarter than he normally is just to make him scummier than he’s ever been so that we could feel that Blake’s relationship with Sun is less than her relationship with Yang. Awful writing and characterization from the RWBY DC team here

Issue #13:

This is so wrong and despicable and manipulative and terrible. Again, this isn’t the same woman we met in the show. 

Willow never made excuses for herself or her actions like this. Not once during the entire time she was on screen did she do anything like this. She knew she wasn’t a great mother and she took full responsibility for her actions- and inaction- I don’t know WHY she’s trying to excuse herself here. This is more Cruella De Ville than it is Willow Schnee.

I’m not gonna explain how lumping this “prized menagerie” story with “Faunus slave labor” story together is godawful but just recognize that it’s Black History Month and this plot point they decided to write in is not MLK approved.

Anyway, that’s the whole RWBY DC run. All in all it wasn’t the worst adaptation of an established series, but goddamn. I’d rank this up there with Eragon or Percy Jackson or the end of the Soul Eater anime or something. This is such a slap in the face by people who obviously only ever skimmed through the show for the explicit purpose of writing this series that I’ve read fancomics and fanfiction that handle canon better than this. It’s really frustrating too because this comic run is like, beloved by certain people in the fndm who are only in this for the ships, and people who refuse to see anything wrong with this series ever. The healthy servings of Bumbleby and crumbs of Monochrome and White Rose are apparently enough to make people go “fuck all the inconsistencies, this comic is great.” Cannot express how much these people make me wanna slam my head into a wall. 

I did this just to highlight all the issues I have with the run, but I’m sure other people have other issues with this comic than I do. Have fun in the comments I guess.

[yeaahishowedupatyourparty]

@.JaneyPowellx: This has been something I’ve been debating doing for a long time now and it’s never really felt right. Even now, with all of the words on paper, or typed on to a digital page, it doesn’t feel right. I found writing fiction through the desperate need to escape reality & I’ve done everything in my power to keep them separate. Whether your favourite work of mine is Harry Potter, The Selection, We Were Liars or Twelve, you’ll never find me in them because they’re idealised situations in world’s that could be just around the corner or in far off places. 

This story is different. It isn’t fiction and it isn’t escapism. It’s set in the real world and within the 21 years I’ve been alive. If you’re holding this book in your hand after purchasing it or have just downloaded it from my website, I’ll be bold enough to assume you already know the basic premise of the plot and you already have your expectations. There’re different versions of this story on true crime YouTube channels, in the newspapers and on blogs, some written with a good lot of research being done and others written just for clicks. It’s been a hard thing to accept, but all of them are somebody’s experience of the event and therefore hold a certain degree of truth. 

This is just another version of a story that you might have heard before, this time told by me, Janey.  CHAPTERS 1-3: TRIGGER WARNINGS THROUGHOUT FOR ABDUCTION, ASSAULT/HARASSMENT, DRUGS & ABUSE

//OOC: This isn’t a full on story, just the outline! I think it’s taken her ages but she’d definitely record like a diary-styled retell of everything that happened to her involving the abduction that happened when she was 15. It’d be super cheap and available in stores AND online but all the profit would be go to appropriate foundations. 

CHAPTER ONE - Happy Birthday! 

In this chapter, Janey would start out by describing her fifteenth birthday. The year before, she’d seen Harvey, her older brother, cross a milestone - his sweet sixteenth. Therefore, the expectations for her birthday were pretty high. She was expecting the big party, huge balloons, special presents, a sip of alcohol and extra privileges but alas, she was only turning fifteen. Her parents were very clear about birthdays, drinking and other rules: 16, 18 and 21 were the milestone birthdays, otherwise parties were smaller and inexpensive. 

She’d go on to explain how she’d been sulking all day because of it and explicitly remembers refusing to blow out her birthday candles after dinner. It would be something she’s embarrassed by now but at the time, it was perfectly reasonable. She’d mention that most people who only know the twenty-one year old her wouldn’t recognise fifteen year old Janey. A moody teenager who insisted on dressing like Jade West from Victorious and took way too much interest in her pink flip-phone (another thing she wasn’t happy with, seeing as Harvey - being 16 - had recently got a better one).  

It’d talk about how her parents were firm but fair and well known in Violet Springs. Her Mum was a teacher and, to Janey’s horror, actually taught her in Year 7. Her Dad is an independent photo journalist who mainly covers local sporting events. She’d explain how they’re amazing parents and even if fifteen year old her couldn’t see it, they were equally amazing to Harvey, Annabel and herself. 

Janey would go back to writing about having serious middle child syndrome and never making life easy for her parents. She wasn’t “naughty” but definitely pushed boundaries by breaking curfew, getting in trouble in class and talking back a lot. She’d confess that she cared a lot about being in the “right” crowd in high school. Deep down, she was always a naturally quiet person but felt the pressure to be as loud as the other girls. She wanted attention, and to be popular, and for boys to like her; that was all that mattered & if she knew then what she knew now, she probably would’ve slapped herself because she has no doubt that that’s what ultimately led to everything going wrong. 

She’d mention that her birthday is the 19th of March (and she prides herself on being a true Pisces as it’s also her moon sign). It also gave her a couple of months until summer, where she and her friends planned her REAL birthday party since her parent’s wouldn’t give her one. They’d decided that they’d go to the open fields in between Lilac Heights and the Cotswolds (?) during the summer and drink, get high and just have a good time. She’d explain how the group of girls she was friends nearly all had older boyfriends who were in college and it was easy to get a hold of stuff they probably shouldn’t have been having. 

Janey would talk about how the field has become iconic for completely different reasons now. If you google it, you won’t have to scroll very far at all to see pictures of it sectioned off when the police were searching for her. But, that summer it was beautiful and everybody was tanned, having fun and happy to be going into the last year of high school. Janey would explain that she’d always been insecure about not having a boyfriend, but she and her friends planned to change that because one of their boyfriend’s was bringing a guy who she’d been speaking to online. He was 22.  

The end of this chapter would be romanticised and Janey would reflect on how it was the last time she was ever “old Janey.” Her plans had been to sneak back in through Annabel’s bedroom window and get into bed before her parents even suspected a thing. But, that never materialised. 

CHAPTER TWO - As It Happened. 

In this chapter, Janey would mention that she’s going to tell everybody exactly what happened that night. Details the police couldn’t even figure out when they tried to piece it all together. There’d be a trigger warning that she’ll be mentioning drinking, harassment and abduction but would promise that it isn’t graphic.

The first part would be about how the field party was a typical summer thing; hot weather, people drinking and having fun as well as sneaking off into the forest (but not too deep) to do god knows what. She’d talk about how she ignored the constant texts and calls from her Mum when it got dark, and how she was drunk. It’d also cover that she was introduced to the friend of her friend’s boyfriend  and even though he wasn’t her type, she was excited about the attention. When it got too dark to see anything, most of her school friends decided to call it a night but Janey went to Downtown Springs with the guy she’d met and his friends because they promised they could get her into Indigo, which they did. 

Most of the night was fun; she was bought drinks, there was lots of flirting and she felt special...which is kind of the hole she’d been trying to fill throughout her teen years. She’d definitely then mention that the guys she was with and every person like them exploit people who aren’t feeling their best and would talk about surrounding yourself with people you trust and not just people who are giving you what you want. 

At one point, the boyfriend of her friend (who was now at home) started getting really loud and rowdy. To this day, Janey doesn’t know if it was genuine or just an act for an excuse to get her to leave the club with them and not go home like she’d planned. They were kicked out before it was midnight and she’d vividly recall passing a few people from school (including Wes and Nate - her ex, I think!) and chatting to them for a little while before the guys she was with mentioned their friend was having a house party in London. Nate specifically asked her to stay but she was set on having fun on her birthday and left with them. 

She’d talk about seeing familiar buildings of Violet Springs turn into intimidating city offices and the roads getting wider as they entered London. The atmosphere in the car shifted slightly but at the time, she was too drunk to even notice. Neither of the guys said anything to one another or her & it gives her the chills now to know that in that moment, she’d been abducted, but she didn’t know it. They got out of the taxi and Janey remembers being embarrassed about not having enough cash on her to pay for her third of the fare - something trivial now - and one of the guys just paying for it without much fuss. 

Once they stepped outside, she saw they were stood in front of a tower block that was almost completely silent. No sign of a party. That’s when she started to hesitate but was too shy to say anything; she was in a weird part of London at 11:45 with nobody she knew and no money. Also, she was sure she was just overreacting. One of the guys said that the party was on the top floor which is why nobody could hear it and even faked a phone call with the “host”. Janey took the elevator up to fifth floor with them and again, felt as if something weird was going on because the top floor was the seventh. This also ended up being something that confused the police in her investigation; witnesses who saw her enter the tower block had overheard the conversation and couldn’t piece together WHY she wasn’t seen on the seventh floor or who’d even supposedly had the party. 

She’d explain how the flat they entered belonged to the friend of her friend’s boyfriend and how eery it felt when it was completely silent. She asked multiple times about the party and both guys said they’d go up soon, but they wanted to have some more drinks and smoke before going up so that they were on everybody else’s level of being completely fucked. Janey remembers sitting on the arm of the sofa and realising how gross and dirty everything was. She wondered how someone who was 22 had given up already and remembers seeing pictures of her parent’s starter home at that age and how pretty it was by comparison. 

The longer it took for them to go back up to the party, the more anxious Janey got. Eventually, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and decided that she’d have to face her parent’s consequences and ask her Dad to come and get her. She panicked even more when her phone wouldn’t switch on and she realised it was dead...meaning, she’d have to borrow money to get home. Once she came out of the toilet, she half debated leaving without them knowing because she just had a horrible feeling but felt like that’d be rude. So, she went back into the living room and asked to borrow a phone. That’s when things shifted completely and fun flirting became intimidating harassment; sleazily flirting with her and telling her not to be boring. One of them even insisted on kissing her to shut her up but once she got really upset, they agreed to take her home on the basis she’d have one last drink. She did, and it was spiked, which made her pass out. 

The next day she woke in the bedroom of the same apartment, still fully dressed - something she was too young to register at the time, but now she reflects on it, it was the one comforting thing of the whole morning. But, her bag had gone and the door to the room was locked from the other side. She remembers banging on it and calling for someone, but nobody answered. She’d describe the panic and desperately wanting her brother or her Dad in that moment, but had to keep reminding herself she didn’t have her phone to contact them. She ended up being shut in that room for twenty-four hours before one of the guys came back; the friend of the boyfriend. He told her that she wouldn’t be going home and the more noise and fuss she made, the longer she’d stay in the bedroom. 

Janey would talk about how her biggest regret is NOT making a fuss and screaming until a neighbour or somebody heard, but her survival instincts kicked in and she was scared she was going to be seriously hurt if she didn’t listen. So, she stayed quiet and followed what she wanted him to do; which was to dye her hair brown and change into clothes he’d bought for her - a basic black tank top and sweatpants. Again, at the time she was too confused to even begin to think about why but now she knows it was because she’d soon be declared a missing person and if they were taking her into public, she looked too familiar to any description circulating. 

She’d end this chapter by saying how she remembered sitting on the floor of the living room that night while he put the dye in her hair, trying not to cry while her story first broke on to some of the news networks. But she’d also talk about how she felt twistedly happy that her parents had decided she was missing and not just out being her usual, difficult self. 

CHAPTER THREE - THE FLAT. 

She’d start the chapter with a warning about mentions of sexual abuse again. This would be a really brief chapter, but it would basically be her explaining to everyone who she was taken in the first place; trafficking; and how it isn’t what everyone imagines. She wasn’t chained up in a basement somewhere. In fact, before the news of her disappearance really blew up, she was actually allowed out given that she was with one of the two guys. She’d go to the store, or just sit in the park and once even to the gym. 

She’d explain how ultimately though, she’d been taken as a product. Neither of the guys ever slept with her, but there were other men who did and they’d pay the two guys to do so. She’d never get or see any of it and she’d talk about how from the beginning there were strict rules. Her name would be ‘Liz’, short for Elizabeth which was her middle name, she wasn’t to have personal conversations with any clients and the answer had to always be yes to whatever they asked. Also, crying or appearing upset was a big no. 

She’d talk about how this went on for a month which was enough time for the search for her to gain momentum and more press coverage. And, she knew this, because the people keeping her almost INSISTED that she read newspaper articles or watched reports about herself. She’d also mention how they would mock her parents, sister, brother and friends who obviously would make appeals or speak about it in statements and find it funny. That would often set her off and she’d argue with them, which never ended well for her. 

The chapter would be rounded up with how by the end of August and moving into September, when she was supposed to be starting college, the police released sketches of the “suspects” and mentioned that they could be in the London area. For around three days, Janey had hope and felt like she was going to be found...but the guys began to panic. That’s when she wasn’t allowed to go outside anymore & one night, she overheard the guys speaking about how they were going to move her “and the others” further away from the Capital. That’s when she knew that this was going to be a lot harder than just doing what they said until they got bored. 

[daresplaining]

A Few Thoughts About the Current Run

    I feel like I ought to say a few things about my feelings on Zdarsky’s run, as of right now (August 2020, pre-Annual-- that may be important). I haven’t said much about this run, and I should admit that I actually stopped reading it for a while. At a certain point, I realized I was dreading the release of each preview, and took that as a sign that maybe I should take a break and just re-read some back issues instead. This is, above all, supposed to be fun; I never, ever want reading DD to feel like a chore.  

    That said, I am now caught up and feel ready to begin untangling exactly why this run is so distasteful to me. I’ve been fortunate to have other DD fans to chat with about this, which has helped me to pinpoint what my problems are... because on paper, this run seems like something I’d enjoy. Matt accidentally kills a guy; that’s always fun. Marco Checchetto is great. The story explores Daredevil’s relationship with the citizens of Hell’s Kitchen, which I love. Foggy helps Matt with an action-y Daredevil thing; that’s awesome. There are some very cool fights. Elektra is in it. Stilt-Man is (briefly) in it. It has all the trappings of an interesting narrative. But there is a giant hole in the middle of this run, and that hole is Matt Murdock-shaped and impossible to ignore.     

    I read Daredevil comics for a lot of things (anyone who’s been following me for the past few years might think I read Daredevil comics for Mike Murdock, and you may have a point there) but first and foremost, I read them for Matt. There is a lot that makes a good DD story great-- historically, the comic has featured great supporting casts, and that’s another problem with this run that I’ll get back to in a minute-- but Matt is always the anchor. One of the greatest strengths in Daredevil comes from the fact that the protagonist is such a compelling character. You are interested in what he’s doing. You want to follow his story. You enjoy being inside his head. I’m not saying that you can’t write a good Matt-free Daredevil story-- you definitely can. But if Matt is present and written poorly, the whole story will collapse around him, and that’s been my experience with Zdarsky’s run. Part of the reason I’ve taken so long to write this post is because I’ve been trying to figure out if my complaint comes from my own personal taste-- which is not a basis on which I can critique this comic-- or whether the problem is inherent in the work itself. Having discussed it with other people, I feel comfortable saying that I think the problem is in the writing. 

    Zdarsky’s Matt feels profoundly unfamiliar to me, and that in itself isn’t necessarily a problem, but I don’t find this new version of my favorite superhero interesting. I actually find him a little repellant. If this run had been my introduction to Daredevil, I would’ve said “Nope” and read something else. Matt is a character with depth. He is intensely multifaceted. His relationship to superheroing is complicated, his views on justice and morality are rich and often contradictory. Zdarsky somehow missed all of that and has crafted a one-dimensional character with a blatantly black-and-white sense of morality. Matt’s reaction to accidentally killing someone seems to be to decide that all superheroes are bad-- something I complained about at the beginning of the run and which, unfortunately, only grew more annoying as the story progressed. Zdarsky’s Matt is painfully self-righteous, to a degree that makes him extremely unlikeable (at least to me). And yes, Matt has been written as unlikeable before. I actually love when Matt behaves badly; I find that fascinating from a narrative perspective. But I’ve realized that the key reason that has been effective in the past is because the story has never condoned that behavior. When Matt was emotionally abusive toward Heather Glenn, Frank Miller went out of his way to show us-- via the side characters, via blatant expressions of Heather’s pain-- that Matt was in the wrong. When Matt was a jerk in Bendis’ and Brubaker’s runs, when he drove his friends away, when he acted irrationally and harmfully, the narrative commented on that jerkiness and irrationality. 

    But Zdarsky does not do that in his run. He presents Matt’s irrational and jerkish behavior without comment or nuance, as if it’s a perfectly normal, reasonable way for Matt to act under the circumstances, and I have been surprised to realize how distasteful I find that, and how bad it makes Matt look. There’s a difference between having a character who is comfortably flawed-- whose behavior you’re supposed to occasionally question-- and a character who is just unpleasant and unlikeable, seemingly by accident. In the most recent issue (#21), Matt has an extremely upsetting interaction with Spider-Man, one of his oldest friends, and Matt is positioned as heroic for behaving this way, and it made me feel a little ill, because there’s no textual examination or questioning of this behavior. It’s just Matt, pushing people away, being Angsty(TM) and Gritty(TM) and lone wolf-y just because, in a way that is grating and unpleasant and completely lacks nuance. 

    The other major element of Zdarsky’s characterization of Matt is religion. I’ve mentioned before (as have other DD fans before me) that Matt is not generally written as religious, and it’s a strange phenomenon that this characterization has appeared in multiple adaptations (the movie and the Netflix show) while having very little actual presence in the source material. But it was a key theme in the Netflix show, and while hopefully that influence will disappear from the comics as more time passes, we are still in a honeymoon phase wherein MCU elements are still popping up in the 616 universe. It’s clear that Zdarsky really liked the show, and Soule as well; I’m certainly not letting Soule off the hook here, because the idea of Matt being devoutly Christian showed up his run first. But there, you could get away from it if it wasn’t your thing (which, for me, it’s not). Soule had whole story arcs that didn’t mention it. But Zdarsky has made it 75% of Matt’s personality. When he isn’t fighting or sleeping with someone in this run, Matt is angsting about God. 

    I hesitate to complain about this because it’s Zdarsky’s right as a DD writer to change the protagonist however he likes. It’s frustrating, yes, but not actually a sign of bad writing per se. Plus, not everyone is me. Many people-- probably including many people who were fans of the Netflix show and are entering the comics via that connection (which seems to be the target audience for this run)-- may be religious and may connect to MCU/Zdarsky Matt in that way. And that’s wonderful. I want to be very clear: it’s not the religiousness itself that I’m complaining about. My complaint is this: if you’re going to drastically alter a character, you need to back it up. You need to dig into it, make that new personality element feel powerful and real, and integrate it into the character’s pre-existing personality. And if you’re going to base the entirety of that character’s emotional journey on that new trait, you need to work to make sure it’s accessible to your readership. I, as a non-religious person, have no sense of why Matt is so upset about God. I have no frame of reference for his pain, either from my own experiences or from previous Daredevil continuity, and Zdarsky does nothing to develop or explore the basis of Matt’s faith, and so it all just falls flat. I feel alienated by this run. I see an angsty, self-righteous, prickly jerk ranting about needing to do God’s will, and then I put the issue down and read some She-Hulk instead. If Zdarsky (or Soule-- again, he could have done this too) had made an effort to actually explore and explain Matt’s feelings about his religion, rather than lazily shoving that characterization in there and assuming readers will just accept it, it wouldn’t bother me nearly as much as it has. 

    Also, I feel I have to mention; this is a fantasy universe. Matt went to Hell and yelled at Mephisto in Nocenti’s run, and it was awesome. Maybe this is just me, but if you’re going to bring in religion, at least have some fun with it! Bookend Nocenti’s run: Matt goes to Heaven, runs into God, and she gives him some free therapy and a souvenir t-shirt (or, I don’t know, something). To give Zdarsky credit, he did at least hint at that sort of thing in Matt’s conversation with Reed Richards in #9. 

    I'm going to cut this post short, because I really don’t enjoy writing negative reviews. I’d much rather post about things I love, and over the next few weeks I do plan to highlight aspects of this run that I’ve enjoyed. But I’ll end by saying that the weaknesses in Matt’s characterization could have been mitigated by a great supporting cast. Having prominent secondary protagonists would have provided outside perspectives on Matt’s behavior and given the reader other characters to root for when he got too out-of-hand. They would have drawn out the human elements in Matt’s character and helped give him that nuance he so desperately needs. But this run, just like Soule’s before it, is woefully underpopulated. Foggy’s presence is extremely weak and his appearances far too infrequent. Apart from brief cameos in MacKay’s Man Without Fear mini, Kirsten McDuffie and Sam Chung have both vanished, and I’m worried that Kirsten might have joined Milla Donovan in the limbo of still-living-but-permanently-benched ex-love interests. The women in this run are all either villains or people for Matt to sleep with (I was pumped about Elektra’s return and the idea of her training Matt, but her characterization was disappointing (I may write a separate post about this), and Mindy Libris could have been really compelling as a moral person trying to survive life in a crime family, but instead she was just a one-note, underdeveloped victim for Matt to lust after). To Zdarsky’s credit, he has clearly been trying to give the Kingpin a humanizing story arc, but even that I haven’t found compelling enough to want to keep reading (though that could just be me). Cole North was intriguing at first, but he ended up feeling more like a concept than an actual person. And none of these characters engage with Matt on a human, emotional level, which is what a good supporting cast needs to do. I commented early-on that this run felt like all flash and no bang (Is that a term? It is now.) and I think I still stand by that-- it’s all bombastic plot concepts and big ideas without any of the actual development or nuance necessary to make them work. There is nothing in this run that has pulled me in and held my interest; in the absence of a Matt I can connect to, I need something, and so far I haven’t found it. 

    I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point. This run was nominated for an Eisner for best ongoing series, so apparently someone likes it, but it has become clear that-- so far, anyway-- it’s just not right for me.  

[weaselbeaselpants]

I have a lot to say and not enough time to say it. It hurts, but ya’ll know what this is about so if you want my full fandom retrospective opinion thing guys, here.

I’ve been following Vivienne’s art and career since I found her on dA in 2009. I’ve basically grown up with her and have a wide range of opinions up and down her collective work. I must stress that I do not know her as a person and no matter how critical I get in my personal time if I somehow met her in real life or converse with her online again (like, back in the day we went back and forth. She was pretty nice to me), I’d be humble and congratulate her for her success.

Critique does not, EVER equate to attacking people.

But

the reason I don’t call myself a VivziePopVivzmind-fan is the exact same as to why I don’t like the proud use of ‘anti’. Let me try and explain -

The vast majority of Viv fans are just that: fans. Viv’s one of their favorite artists and they’re happy for her and obviously defensive when some mouth breather pops into their fan discussion calling her and all of them trash. Quite a lot of the Hazbin fans I know in my circle of friends are all pretty accepting and agree on the problematic notions and implications of her work.

HOWEVER, there’s a vocal minority in the VivziePop fandom that were and still are toxic. Their specific interest in Viv back in the day was toxic...and now that she’s moved on into a successful career I doubt they’ve gone away, considering the things I’ve heard. These people - they’d flood Viv’s comments sections and stuff with messages like they were talking to her when they weren’t and they’d unironically call her a god in a way that feels like gaslighting, ex: “I’ll NEVER be as good as you Viv! My art is just sooooo unpopular oh god you are incredible no one will ever like you as much as meeeee”. It made me uncomfortable. It made me not want to be around her because these people took Viv’s role in their lives so seriously and their demand for her attention...it struck a nerve.

These same fans have been around long enough to see actual shitlords - the likes of Kiwifarms and tapatalk wikis - come in and actually harass Viv. Viv’s been sent revenge porn by sick freaks who think they’re funny and believe she deserves it. No. In my non-name fan bystander opinion, Viv’s got some shit to work on, but no one deserves raperevenge porn. EVER. It was genuinely bad and yes Viv and her base have every reason to NOT TRUST these communities. Unfortunately, when these incidents happened, these particular fans took it upon themselves to gatekeep the fandom and act like Viv’s unofficial guard against any kind of decenting opinion of her, all without her say so.

((to the critics who will be all “but Viv or Faust said THIS to their fans-”, like I said, Viv’s far from perfect but regardless of how much she prolly wanted people to side with her I’m gonna guess that she didn’t want people sending transphobic death threats to DollCreep. Again, and this is coming from a bystander here, I have a feeling Viv knows about some of the toxicity but doesn’t know how/want to address it - which is a conversation all it’s own.))

This particular breed of VivziePop “fan” holds so much toxicity in her fandom(s). They aren’t the only cause, but they’re there. They feel entitled to her attention and her approval. They creep me out. Having spoken to other much-less critical admitted fans of Viv around me, these fans appear to creep everyone else out and put the rest of the fandom on edge. They’re gatekeepers. They’re creeps. Like the bronies and SU fans of yestertodayyears, they know harassment exists and that people have crossed the line - so they think any means is necessary to prevent that is automatically good. I could pile together all the incidents and folks who’ve had bad runs ins with this aftershock of Viv-obsession, but I do have a life of my own and this post is already stupid long so I’ll just list out the biggest examples and provide receipts when asked.

Critical blogs have gotten RAPE and death threats because they don’t like Viv’s art. HonestZoophobiaCriticisms, a blog I interracted with back in the day, def got one. Now Viv’s opinion of crit-blogs is that they’re “bad takes” but I can assure you she doesn’t want that shit being said on her behalf.

I’ve seen young artists get blacklisted from sites and forums cause they so much as post a redesign. Viv and co get told through the grapevine that someone’s making hatespeech and so preemptively block said person (prolly cause they’re in the middle of WORKING and can’t deal right now) only to find out after the fact that no, it was just a kid drawing their version of her characters. There’s serious miscommunication issues within the fandom about who’s ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and once you get the actual staff involved in this game of telephone you’re begging for trouble. The problem acknowledged, however, it’s souly from the “Viv never did anything wrong camp”. No word is said about how ugly the fandom is under the surface it’s all one type of person’s fault and not complicated’. Blah

I’ve only ever had ONE obsessive ‘fan’ who’d stalk me, mock me, and then redraw my art just to get attention from me. That shit fucked with my head. As a follower hundreds of miles away from Viv who’s agreed/disagreed with her through the years - I absolutely believe her when she says she hates ‘creeps’ and that she doesn’t want anyone in her fandom spreading hate on her behalf. It’s the one thing about her I’m POSITIVELY sure of. Whether she believes that said underlying harassment exists and/or is even a problem within her fandoms is anyone’s guess. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to write stupid blog entries like this, talk about fandoms and media and how they and the real world affect one another, and rb fan art I like. I’m cautiously optimistic fan with a side of salt.

Mixed opinions and critique within a fandom CAN and SHOULD exist. Hazbin Hotel has been greenlit by a studio! It has a product line of merchandise you buy. Helluva Boss is getting eight more episodes this coming year (yeeee:3yeeee). Two of Viv’s properties are now products. Nothing is immune from critique. And in critique you will find a lot of people who are not ‘nice’. Critique or analysis doesn’t have to be nice. There will be, in Viv’s words’ ‘bad takes’ on her writing. Maybe they will be actual CinemaSins-styled bad takes or maybe Viv is just mad that people don’t love and feel inspired by her characters the way she wants them to - it’s a fact she’s going to have to get used to.

((TBH, I’m pretty sure she’s already realized that criticism of all types need to exist. It’s just that, again, her and the SpindleHorse staff are kind of overwhelmed by all matter of takes and opinions coming their way they kinda can’t deal weeding out the fair ones from the assholes, so she lumps them all together.))

Shitposters, ironic fans, unironic fans, critical fans, just critics of Hazbin and Helluva CAN and WILL exist. They should exist and not feel threatened by the megafandom. There are people out there who are one step further and rightfully bothered by Hazbin/Helluva’s use of incorrect symbols, portrayal of certain topics, and the response by creators. These people have strong opinions and are actually disgusted by Viv. They deserve to exist too and should not be vilified because, like me, they’re commentary doesn’t consist of anything personal towards the people at Spindlehorse or the fans of her works. They can rant, they can be professional, they can be petty and they can be fair. But they will exist. You have to deal with it.

I am an ADD/OCD ridden autistic woman with serious anxiety issues who has no one to talk to half the time and so only HAS my fandom to communicate with. But that’s just it - it’s a fandom. A community. You have to learn to not think souly of yourself and of others in a community. A fandom doesn’t exist just for you or any one person. You have the right to be angry and defend or be offended. And it’s in the spirit of that that I ask, prrraaaaaay even, that I please

NOT BE CALLED AN “ANTI-ANTI” for not liking the moniker?!

I DON’T TO BE AN “ANTI”. Not ironically, not unironically. ‘Anti’ should be for politics and shit like pedophiles, necrophiles, nazis, serial killer stans, Trump, racists, antisemites, terfs, animal abusers, rapists, and antivaxxers. Anti should only come into critical media analysis when these ethical issues follow suit IN TO fandom discussion. ((EX: Anime and MLP proudly waving their cp and non-con into the public eye; Hazbin appropriating cultural symbols which are not satanic; Basically anything that concerns John K or Butch Hartman.))

If your DNI list unironically consists of the entirety of one fandom:  CONGLATURATIONS! You have done the exact same thing these particular creepy Viv fans have done: monopolize the conversation. And yes, people I’m referring to, IT’S STILL A PROBLEM EVEN IF YOU’RE FIGHTING RACISM/SEXISM/HOMOTRANSPHOBIA.

There are hundreds of Vivziefans who ARE more critical, accepting of faults, interested in discussion and especially rewrite and redesign stuff who would LOVE to engage with you and give you a follow. There’s hundreds of people who no doubt agree with you!

But the thing I’ve seen these very proud AntiHazbinVivzieHelluvaWhatever blogs do is lash out at fans for continuing to like Viv and consume Viv’s art in a healthy way. What the actual fuck is your problem?

I get it. Say a crazy Hazbin fan gets on your case for even SUGGESTING Viv could be homophobic ((”SHE’SBIANDWORKSWITHGAYPPLblahablahblah”)). They get in your face, make some callouts, try to rile up support against you, leave disgusting harassment throughout your social media? Absolutely ban worthy. After that it’s perfectly understandable why you don’t want to engage with anything HHHBZPVivzierelated because you’re so fucking tired of being labeled an abuser or “just jealous” for having an opinion on a show you don’t like. I’m with you!

But,

A fan agrees that something in the canon is bad or that Viv did something they don’t like?

A fan likes your silly shitpost meme?

A fan asks if they can like Hazbin and follow you at the same time? 

A fan does fan art of something you don’t like?

If your response to any of these ^^^ things is to get LOUD and accusatory, Vivsplain them about how they’re an absolutely awful person to ever question YOUR opinion, or just block them without a second thought? You’re a petty, vendictive shit and you also need to learn to let things go. I’m sorry but you do. As I already said, Viv’s work is a brand at this point, not just the work of a singular person. As such, there are gonna be mixed opinions and you can’t judge every single one of these people by what they like. You’re a shitty critic with a shitty attitude and yes that will demean the value of what you’re saying. This is bad because, if you’re trying to point out how Angel Dust’s abuse IS handled terribly; gay rep in Viv’s work is weak and terrible; the show appropriates closed practices; the fandom makes excuses for predatory artists and creepy behavior and individuals who have sketchy pasts - I’M WITH YOU. WE NEED TO BE TALKING ABOUT THIS SHIT. JUST BECAUSE THESE ARE ADULT CARTOONS SET IN HELL MEANS THERE SHOULD BE ANYTHING CLOSE TO 2013 PONY-TUMBLR. <<<---- this shit is as important to me as it is to you and I really don’t like being called an abuser or apologist for saying “hey maybe blowing up at ppl for the shows they like ISN’T the way to go about this”. 

But I have, just like the good old days of 2015 Zoophobia of yore, been blocked because I admit to being tired of ‘Anti’ being equated to ‘critical’. Same with hater.

Critical DOES NOT = Anti+Hater. I’m fucking tired of people saying it does and I’m tired of people taking up the term as some weird form of fandom reappropriation. It’s stupid.

Tl;dr: Once upon a time, I was in a budding fandom for something I liked made by an indie artist I watched on dA. I wanted to be a bigger fan than I was already, but was told by toxic people within said fandom that I couldn’t be part of it for reasons they’d made up in their head about my ‘motives’ against Viv. My admiration for Viv or what I liked about Zoophobia didn’t matter because I thought the story was really rushed and people weren’t being truthful with how they really felt about it - ergo, I HAD TO GO. 

Flash forward 8 years later- My opinion of Viv’s body of work has changed but I still find myself in love with her style and some of her characters. I want to be on a forum or service that gives a healthy look at the problems there are with this series and fandom...and I’m met repeatedly by petty bs where people are again at each other’s throats. And yes, I do think it’s causing more harm than good especially when you insist there’s a “x person shouldn’t be trusted” mentality when fighting actual fucking racist, xenophobic, predatory bullshit.

[the-hopeless-haze]

Someone to Need You Too Much (Being Alive Chapter 4)

(not my gif)

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CONTENT WARNING: This chapter mentions past sexual abuse. It is par for the course in what you’d expect in an SVU episode but I am mentioning it here because it concerns the reader.

This is when Rafael usually starts checking out.

But you weren't how women normally acted at this stage, hell, the two of you hadn't even made it official yet or told the squad.

You needed him, though, in ways he wasn't used to being needed, having been single for so long. You'd call him if you hadn’t seen him over at the precinct, ask him how his day went and talk about yours, and you'd get him out of the office to go to dinner at least once a week.

But you never said this, you never verbalized that you needed him there, you never nagged, never made him feel bad if his work got in the way and he had to reschedule. Maybe it's because you were busy too, or maybe you were just that understanding. Either way, he’s surprised the two of you haven’t gotten into a fight more serious than work-related spats.

Rafael had been right, as this was fun at least for now, and maybe if all you needed him for was weekend dinners and the occasional Broadway show, that’d be fine. Your sense of humor matches his, you drink scotch, you smell lovely... but you had been pulling away recently; in fact, you hadn’t called him since you went out to dinner last weekend. He tries to chalk it up to you being busy with work, but he can’t fight the anxiety that the end is already here. Why the hell did he even give this a half-assed shot? Of course you weren’t genuinely interested. Of course you’d be another tally mark, another notch in his belt- and it’s not like he was truly upset, because he had figured it would end at some point the second he agreed to take you to dinner, and thankfully, the squad didn’t know yet. Still, though, this soon? It’d barely been two months.

Or maybe your withdrawal was due to that time you were making out with him on the couch - and you’d suddenly pushed him off, went to the bathroom, and didn’t kiss him the rest of the night. He broke out an expensive bottle of wine, then, and tried his best to genuinely apologize, because he did feel awful - but you’d told him he’d done nothing wrong, and that you just needed time. But maybe you’d lied to make him feel better; maybe he had pushed you too far, which truly wasn’t his intention. Rafael may be a dick, but working sex crimes gave him a much better respect for the responsibility of a man to make sure his partner was comfortable with what was happening in the bedroom (or on the couch, or wherever). But Jesus, he’d barely touched you, and he made a point to be more careful with you than anyone he’d ever been with, not just because of your age, but because he figured that your irreparable damage had been of a sexual nature, whether it was a bad boyfriend who didn’t take your needs into consideration or something more serious due to your conversation with Olivia months prior.

With that in mind, Rafael decides it’s more probable that it is work that was causing you to distance yourself rather than anything he may have done. The cases with children were always difficult, for anyone, really, but especially you. And this man? He targeted disabled children specifically, and you weren't doing well. He wonders how he could go about asking to take you off it without you finding out and without Olivia interrogating him as to why he cared so much. It's not like you're not putting in the work; in fact, it's the opposite, if anything, you're drowning yourself in it. Every time he stops by the precinct, you barely say a hello to him, and you're buried in a case file or researching something on your laptop, biting your nails down to the quick. You were always invested in your work, but not like this, and Rafael was a workaholic if there ever was one, but even you were stressing him out right now. He has half a mind to search your purse for a new pack of cigarettes, but he doesn't think you'd take too kindly to that.

When he gets to the precinct later this morning, you’re not there, though, and he asks Carisi why reluctantly. He frowns, looking genuinely upset. “She’s not taking this too well, Barba. I know she wants to be here, but it hits home for whatever reason, and Searge made her take the rest of the day off and probably tomorrow. She was crying when she left, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I mean, whatever it is, I don’t think she should be questioning the suspect, but she’s good with the kids, you know?”

Rafael would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little worried, but he figured you’d turn up of your own accord if you needed to talk.

And later on, early in the afternoon, you do.

"Are you busy?" you ask, standing in his office doorway awkwardly.

"Always,” he says, but he takes his feet off the desk and puts down his legal pad. “What brings you out here? Carisi told me Liv sent you home.”

"I...I need to talk. I don’t want to be alone right now,” you say anxiously.

"Okay. Sit down," he says.

You oblige, sitting in the seat across from his desk, but you’re still trembling. "My brother is disabled."

It all makes sense now, why this case, in particular, was hurting you so much. God, if this case turned his stomach, what did it do to you?

“He... he was raped, too. It was my dad’s best friend... basically his brother. We used to call him uncle. He was a teacher, and he’d pick us up after school a lot and bring us back home to watch us. I...I’m older than my brother by two years, and I joined the soccer team in middle school and that man would be alone with him. I just... I... my brother couldn’t voice it, not the way you and I can. Most nine-year-olds can’t anyway, you know, but because of the disability... he had no idea. He didn’t know the words to explain what happened to him, but he would start saying he didn’t want to go home with this man. My parents both worked long hours, and they were on the outs anyway, so they just thought he missed them and didn’t look into it. They trusted that man... and I did too. Until... one day a game was canceled because of rain, and I walked in, and...”

You stop talking, silent tears falling from your eyes. Rafael gets up, coming round to the edge of the desk to stand closer to you.

“Hey. Take your time,” he whispers, leaning over and putting a hand on your shoulder. “I know this is hard.”

You nod, looking up at him. “I barely knew what sex was at that time. I didn’t really know what to call it, but I knew my brother was getting hurt, that the man was taking advantage of him, and maybe I should’ve called my mother or my father or the police, but I didn’t. I froze for a few moments and then I did the only thing that came to me and I tried to pull him off my brother. It worked, I scared him enough to make him stop but he grabbed me and...he did the same to me. I just remember it hurt so bad... like he was tearing me in half.”

Rafael shudders, but even still he’s in awe of your brazenness even at 11 years old. Just going right in and apprehending the perpetrator. You were born a detective, in a way.

You’re sobbing, now, and really, he can’t blame you. Suddenly, you get up, throwing your arms around him, and if you were ever in need of a hug, he supposes after recounting this story would be the prime time.

“Hey, hey, shhh. No one’s gonna hurt you now, (y/n),” he murmurs, running his hand over your hair. “Lo siento. Shhh. Shh.”

He calms you down a little bit, whispering condolences in Spanish and kissing the top of your head. Rafael doesn’t know exactly what to do as he’s never been good at comforting anyone. It’s something his exes would yell at him for time and time again, assuming his awkwardness meant that he didn’t care they were upset. It’s just something he wishes he could avoid, that everyone could sort out their issues alone as he did. But that was a joke, wasn’t it? Like he’d sorted anything out in these four decades of being alive. He repressed them, sure, but healed from them? No. And maybe it wasn’t fair to expect everyone to live that way.

And again, he can’t really blame you for needing someone right now, even though he sort of wished it wasn’t him (and he does feel guilty for thinking that, but it’s still true). What you’d gone through, well, it was unthinkable, and he imagines you relive it through the eyes of your brother every time you talk to one of these victims. What solace could Rafael give you right now besides, “Oh, honey, it gets better”?

Fuck that. Maybe it did get better, or you got better yourself, but none of that was going to come from Rafael trying to manifest it with his meaningless words. Rafael presumes another reason you came here besides your (ongoing?) fling was because he wasn’t an SVU detective and wasn’t going to revictimize you. So, instead, he asks what a lawyer would ask. “Did he get convicted?”

“Yeah. He did get put away,” you continue, as you pull away from him a little, still holding onto his arms. “It took me a while to come to terms with it, but I couldn’t let him continue to do that to my brother. I told my parents within the week.”

“Did your father believe you?” he asks, unsure if that was insensitive to ask.

“My father definitely didn’t want to believe it at first, but he always believed me for everything. We were always close, still are. My mother... I think she felt she failed as a mom for not noticing it, so she was in denial for a while. The detectives that dealt with it... they didn’t even look into the school, they just tried him for our case. And I always hated them for that, when I was old enough to realize.”

“Is this why you became a detective?” he asks quietly.

“Well, sort of. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t know about SVU; that’s why I have all those psychology credits too. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do. I always wanted to come to New York, though, and you know, I thought I’d be able to help children who went through the same thing my brother and I did. I just didn’t think it’d be this hard,” you say, looking up at him.

“Of course it’s hard. SVU is hard for me, too, and I haven’t experienced anything like that,” he says, swallowing thickly. But that was a lie, in a sense, as he'd been beaten before by the hands of his own father and watched his mother suffer as well. There was a reason he was distant during domestic violence cases. He hopes you don't notice this omission, and he looks at you sympathetically instead.

“I thought I could handle it, though, and not act like a basket case,” you say, turning away from his gaze. “How am I supposed to help anyone if I get sent home?”

“Why did Liv send you home?” he asks, again wondering if he was asking the questions you needed to answer. A good part of his job was figuring out the right questions to ask, but this was overwhelming. “Not that I don’t agree, but I’m just wondering what she said."

You roll your eyes, sniffle a little. “She said it wasn’t good for my mental health to be around the suspect and that I was going to stress out the parents. No one on that squad knows what it’s like to live with and love someone with a disability, Rafael, and I just... I want to be there. I could help, if she’d let me.”

“Now isn’t the time to beat yourself up. I think the time off will be helpful to you," he says, squeezing your shoulder again. Wasn't that the catch-22? You join these professions to help people like yourself, but you hurt yourself in the process and become of no use. He thinks back to the first domestic violence case he was put on, a family not unlike his own, and it nearly broke him down, nearly made him quit and throw away those seven years of education. But he didn't. And you wouldn't walk away either.

“How is your brother doing now?”

“Ben - his name is Ben - he’s doing better. He's very shy, and he can get anxious and have panic attacks. He has fragile X syndrome, and that’s what caused his autism... I used to try and take him out everywhere with me once I got a car, to help him get used to talking to people. It doesn’t help, you know, the way people are when they see someone disabled, and sometimes it’d be hard, but... I just want him to live as normal a life as possible. He still lives with my mom, now. I just think the assault made him so much worse. I mean, I don’t know if he’ll ever get a job, now, or... it’s just hard to think about sometimes.”

“I can only imagine,” he says softly, because he really has no idea.

“Well, I’m just gonna...I’m just gonna go home,” you say. “Thank you for listening. I needed someone to. I know it’s a lot. But I don’t want to take you away from this case either. We’re already one person down since Liv kicked me out, and if I needed you to win the last case... I absolutely need you to win this one, Rafael. I didn’t get to question that man but I was on this case before and I know he raped them, that fucking bastard—“

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he says gently. “Okay. I know. I watched Liv interrogate him earlier. I believe you, and you know I’m going to do everything I can. I'm going to charge him, and we're going to get him.” Jesus, he needs to stop promising you guilty verdicts. But how the hell could he say no when this clearly meant the world to you? This was all too much. What the hell did you need?

“Okay. I know I’m asking for a lot but I need... I need this. And I can help you however you need. Liv can’t stop me from helping you prep witnesses or—“

“Slow down, (y/n). You still need the time off. You know that, right? You’re going to keep getting kicked off cases if you keep trying to push it. I know how Olivia is when it comes to this.”

“But, Rafael—“

“No. We’re done talking about the case, now, okay? You need to think about something else and get your mind off it for a while. Did you want to go get coffee?”

Fucking coffee. Why did Rafael think that equaled comfort? Maybe because the harsh acidity of stale coffee was his only friend some days, and he’d learned that a good cup could be a great mood improvement. Fuck, that was sad, wasn’t it?

“No, it’s fine,” you say, your face falling. “You need to work. I’m just going to go back home, then.”

You turn to leave, grabbing your purse with shaky hands, but he stops you.

“Are you sure you should be alone right now?”

“You’re working, Rafael—“

“Yes, I know, but you’re welcome to stay here.”

You force a smile, shaking your head. “No. It’s okay. I appreciate it. Are you free later though? I know we haven’t gone out in a while, and I could use the company.”

So you didn’t want to end things. Rafael is simultaneously relieved that you wanted to stick around and terrified for the very same reason.

“You know what?” he says, feeling a brazenness he’s unsure of the origin of. “Do you want just a night in? I can give you my apartment key. If you want to go there now, you can. I’ll meet you there later. I’ll try to get out around 7.”

“You want me to just hang out in your apartment?

“Yes,” he says, kissing the top of your head and giving you the key. “I have good scotch, and I guarantee I have a better shower head installed than your apartment. Just go. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Yeah, just say my apartment's a piece of shit, Rafael," you scoff.

He smirks. "That's not what I said. It's not bad for a single woman on a detective's salary. I can tell you saved for it. But it's nowhere near the lap of luxury."

"Oh, but your place is?" you counter, hands on your hips. You're still stressed, he can tell, but maybe you needed the banter. He hopes he's not pushing it too far.

"No, I wouldn't go that far. But tell me, where would you rather spend the night?"

You roll your eyes at him, and he knows you've conceded.

"Do you have anything in your fridge?" you ask. "I could at least cook."

“Probably not. But don’t worry about it. I can pick something up on my way home.”

“No, you don’t get it, I like to cook. Sonny gave me new recipes. You have a bigger kitchen than I do..."

“Is that what would make you happy?”

“Yeah. I need to put my mind on something else right now; like you said.”

“Then... have at it. Don’t burn my place down, though.”

You roll your eyes, kiss his cheek, and leave.

He’s not used to having to take care of anyone. It's been so long since he let anyone get this close, that they felt he would take care of them. Maybe that wasn’t what you were looking for. He wasn’t your father; maybe you just wanted support from an equal. Maybe he wanted to give it. It’s foreign, the feeling of walls he’d spent so long trying to build cracking at the foundations. But hell, if anyone could... couldn’t it be you?

It’s not like Rafael was opposed to long-term, except, well, he was. He’d say there was never an opportunity, he’d tell his mother there was just no one out there. But it’s not like he tried, either.

With you, it’s not much like trying. It all just happened effortlessly, on his part, at least. You made the first move, and most of the successive ones after that. And you’d said you didn’t know what you wanted - yet it’s becoming clearer to Rafael that what you were the kind of person who needed a partner, a lover, possibly a husband. That makes him beyond uneasy. He’d grown to care about you more than he would have liked these past couple of months, but that didn’t mean he was ready for that kind of commitment, if he ever would be.

And this, now, this requires more effort on his part; it requires more of himself to be used to try and help you feel better.

When he comes home that night, the kitchen is a complete mess, with flour in every crevice, dirty pans in the sink, and grocery bags left on the table. It damn near gives him a heart attack, and maybe he would’ve yelled at you, but he swallows his anger down bitterly. You need gentleness, kindness, softness right now, and that’s a tall order for Rafael, especially when you destroy his apartment... but he couldn’t forgive himself if he hurt you when you were already down. Kitchens could be cleaned. Trust couldn’t be repaired.

It might all be worth it, though. And, as it turns out, maybe Carisi was good for something, or you were an amazing chef (perhaps both) because it might have been the best pasta he’d ever had in his life.

“So you made this? These little things?” He stabs into a couple more pillows of pasta, enjoying the fresh, springy taste.

You laugh, clear and bright. You’re a little tipsy; you’d taken full advantage of his scotch collection, but you needed to take the edge off. “They’re called gnocchi, Rafael. And yes. I made them from scratch.”

“I just might have to keep you around,” he says, smiling at you, and you giggle, kissing his open mouth.

“You better,” you say, moving to sit on his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist. “Anyone else I’ve tried to get close to... it scares them. Or they don’t comprehend how big of a deal it was. It broke me, Rafael. It broke my whole family. You might be the only man I’ve been with who’s understood the consequences that has on a person and still not look at me like it’s all that I am.”

“I know. It’s not who you are. It’s something that happened to you,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your cheek chastely. “I would never change my opinion on you based on that.”

If anything, all your story does is cause him to have greater respect for you, not because you survived, because what other option did you have? No, it’s how selfless you are, putting your brother before yourself, choosing this career path over a million others that would have been much easier on you. Judging people based on what they had gone through is ridiculous. That tells you nothing about a person. It’s what they do in the aftermath of the things that happen to them that shows you who they are.

What was Rafael then, in the aftermath of the pain he had been caused?

He doesn’t want to think about that. Ugly things like that were better left unsaid. But eventually, he knows, you’d go there. You’d unravel the real reason why he was single, why he never asked anyone to marry him, why he was so scared to get close... but not yet. Tonight was about you.

“I need to get back out there, Rafael. I need to help those kids,” you say, your voice shaking.

“You will. You’re going to. But you need to know when to step back, (y/n). You’re going to burn out if you don’t,” he says softly.

Rafael still doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough; he feels like you need more than he’ll ever be able to give. And you’ve had to have been hurt in relationships in the past, Rafael knows how teenage boys are having been one himself. God, if he could smack his younger self in the face, he would, one thousand times over.

“I...I do agree that it wouldn’t be good for me to talk with the suspect. I’ll gladly leave that to the rest of the squad. But those kids? The parents? You know that no one is better suited for prepping them for court than me. Let me help you, then.”

“Okay,” he concedes. “But... I have conditions.”

“Naturally.”

He smirks a little, pecking your lips softly. “You’re right. No contact with the defendant. And you need to talk to Olivia first.”

“Rafael—“

“Don’t you want to get paid for this?” he says, smiling wryly. “It is work, you know.”

“You just want to make sure I’m cleared so it doesn’t come to bite you in the ass somehow.”

“Well, yes, of course. Olivia would find out that you helped. Also... you need to back away if it gets too much. I’ll send you home, too, if necessary.”

You sigh, nodding. “Fine. Agreed.”

“Okay. Now we’re done talking about it for the rest of the night.”

“Thank you, Rafael,” you say, looping your arms around his neck. “You’re a hard ass most of the time, but you really helped me today. You just see things so clearly.”

He helped you? He hoped so, that something he did got through, but he didn’t really believe anything could. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t emotionally drained, though, as he definitely wasn’t used his emotional support being needed this much.

“Listen...I’m not trying to rush anything either, but I just want you to know I’m glad I have you around,” you say softly.

“Me too,” he says, honestly, and it all feels so strange, letting someone use him to feel better. It felt good, though, to see you in a better mood, even though he doesn’t feel like he’s entirely the cause of that. Scotch certainly helps. Good food does, too. Solitary comforts, which Rafael knows too well. “Thank you for cooking.”

“You’re welcome. I should cook more often, really. Your blood pressure must be through the roof with all the takeout you eat.”

He squeezes your waist tighter, ignoring your comment, ignoring the fact that he might possibly need you too. You run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching his scalp lightly, and you kiss him gently.

“Well, I got to clean the kitchen I destroyed,” you say.

“I’ll help,” he says, and you kiss him again. It’s gentle, too soft yet too much, and there’s something in your eyes when you pull away, something real, there, something he doesn’t quite recognize or understand at first. It aches, it pulls at heartstrings that maybe have never been touched before. It scares him, a little. What happened to you saying you didn't want to rush things?

For once, words fail him. All he can do is lean up, place his hand on the back of your neck, and kiss you again. He’s careful not to push too far, not to scare you off. You need someone willing to take his time; someone willing to give you his all. Was Rafael really that man? Was he really up for the job?

Maybe, he concedes, that was for you to decide, not himself.

You get off his lap and smile at him before starting to work on the floury mess caking his counter island.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad being needed, even if he hated the aching feeling in his chest he got when he saw you cry, hated how you still seemed like you were too much, too good for him. Part of him still hates you, what with your constantly flickering emotions and your snippy remarks that remind all too much of...himself.

But you needed him there. Who was he to refuse to oblige, even if it scared the shit out of him?

———

Rafael wins the case again. Maybe he should keep promising you guilty verdicts if every time he does it turns out that way. Or, more likely, promising you causes him to work ten times harder just so he doesn’t disappoint you. You did help him a lot this time, per Olivia’s gracious acceptance of your proposal to work more closely with Rafael on this case. She’d said it would be good for you, and it was. You’re not as elated as he hoped you’d be, but you’re probably sick to your stomach thinking about how those kids were going to live their lives now or if they’d get the support your own brother got. But it's certainly better than the alternative. At least that man won't see the light of day for a long while, if ever.

It’s just all very bittersweet.

The squad goes out for drinks, but they’re not rowdy like they can be. Instead, the atmosphere is sullen. This case hurt everyone differently, and everyone is wearing their pain to the bar in an attempt to drink it away. Everyone is especially generous to you - Nick and Sonny fight over covering your drinks and Olivia buys you dinner. Normally, he thinks, you would protest, but you need this right now, and you don't argue with them.

Eventually, though, being around them seems too much, and you head to sit at the bar by yourself. Amanda looks at Rafael pointedly after fifteen minutes of your absence passes. "Are you going to check on her, Barba?
"

"What?"

"You heard me. Can you, please?"

The atmosphere is too tense to banter, so he just nods and makes his way over to you. "How are you doing?"

"Amanda's still trying to play matchmaker?" you say, smiling, but it doesn't quite meet your eyes.

"Evidently. But, I really do want to know how you're feeling."

You shrug your shoulders, turning to face him better. "I've been better. I'm just glad it's over. I’m actually going home for a bit,” you tell him. “I have a couple of vacation days to use, so I won’t be around.”

“Okay,” he says. “I hope your brother is doing well.”

“Yeah. Me too. And you know... I’ll make it up to you. I’m sorry for the distance I put between us, you know, earlier this week? I didn’t mean to, but this case—“

“You don’t need to apologize, (y/n),” he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh. I mean, I did feel bad, leaving you hanging like that. I just know when I get stressed like that I’m not good company.”

“You’re always good company, cariño,” he says quietly, and you reach under the table to squeeze his hand. Rafael doesn’t quite know what you need, and this may be too much, it may draw the attention of the squad - but they aren’t paying attention. Or, fuck it, if they were. He intertwines his fingers wtih yours, squeezing back gingerly.

“Charmer,” you tease, smiling sweetly, sneaking a glance at your hands. “But... Rafi, we are dating, right?”

“Is that what you need from me?”

“I mean, I’d like that. It’s been a couple of months, and we don’t hate each other... why not? We don’t have to tell the squad yet, but I think I might mention to my parents I’m seeing someone when I go up there. Is that okay?”

“That’s...fine, (y/n),” he says cautiously, feeling slightly guilty he never broached the subject with his mother. And god, he wasn’t ready to. Wasn’t this all too much too soon? What was he going to tell you, though? No?

“You might not think so, and I know you try to hide it by being an asshole sometimes, but you are a good man, Rafael.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Yeah, you say that, but I saw you up there, saw you fight for these kids... there’s a way to be a lawyer and not care about the people you represent. But you do care. And it's admirable."

"I wouldn't be able to do my job as well if I didn't care, (y/n). I'm not a saint. Don't make me out that way. This is how I make a living. I want to succeed at it."

"Oh, honey, won't you let me just give you a compliment?" you say, and you loosen your grip on his hand to rub his shoulder gently. "Nothing good ever comes from trying to deny your humanity. And there are far easier career paths you could've chosen if that's what you wanted to do. But you're not like that."

"How would you know?" Rafael says, harsher than he meant to.

"Okay," you murmur, wincing a little. "Why are you so intent on proving me wrong? You know what? Either...stop talking or leave."

"I'm sorry," he says, and he genuinely is. The last thing he wanted to do this week was kick you when you were already down - and here he is, doing exactly that. You deserve so much better.

You smile humorlessly, shaking your head. "I thought I made myself clear. Be quiet, Rafael."

Rafael nods awkwardly and takes a long sip from his scotch. And you surprise him after a few moments, by leaning against his shoulder. "I thought you were mad--"

"Shh, Rafi. Can you please just hold me?"

"Okay," he murmurs, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple before putting his arm around your shoulders. Under normal circumstances, he never would have agreed, but he did just snap at you and the rest of the squad was stewing in their own feelings, hopefully too busy to notice what was happening between the two of you. And even if it did draw attention - it was easily explained away as nothing more than a friend leaning on a friend. He knows eventually you'll need to tell the squad, but for now, this was already too much.

But it was what you needed. So even though Rafael is beyond unsure - he's willing to oblige for now and see where this leads.

NEXT CHAPTER

Want to be tagged in future chapters? Let me know!

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Getting Warmer - B. Hargrove

TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Never in her life had she taken her heels off to drive. She was practically expert at the action of driving with stilettos on.

Unlike the rest of her life, this situation called for a foot to the gas harder than she was willing to forgo one of the many pairs of black stilettos she owned.

She never thought she would be in such a rush for somebody like him.

To her, he didn’t deserve to play the damsel in distress. He was rude, arrogant, the perfect representation of everything wrong with the middle class white male of the 80’s.

Yet here she was, forcing her canary yellow Chevy to go as fast as it could just to get to where he needed her to be.

He was in trouble, and no matter how much she didn’t like somebody, Y/N Henderson didn’t let another suffer just because of her personal feelings.

Her feet were bare as she pulled up to the parking lot of the high school. It was far too late for anybody to be there, but he told her to meet him there.

That, and it was an early Saturday morning.

The blue Camaro stood out in the early morning light and as she pulled up next to it, she could see just how disheveled they man leaning against the side of the vehicle was.

His lip was split and he was sporting an already bruising eye, but he still smirked when she got out of the car. He took a moment to adjust to the sight of her without her heels.

She was tiny compared to him.

Her hands were on his face in seconds, tilting it every which way so she could survey the damage.

“What happened? Are you okay? Where’s max?” Her questions came out lightning fast as she furrowed her brows in confusion.

Billy took the opportunity to notice how her nose crinkled slightly when she concentrated.

“Nice to see you too, princess,” he smirked down at her, offering a wink. “Maxine is fine. She’s in bed.”

She was tired, her hair was a mess and she was hungry. She was not in the mood for his question dodging.

“You answered one of three questions. What about the other two?”

Her arms crossed underneath her chest, and she rolled her eyes as Billy shamelessly gazed at her breasts.

“Look, I don’t have the care to stand around while you perv on me.” She watched as his blue eyes raised to meet her own. “I came here because you said you needed help, and I show up and you’re bruised and battered. I understand you might not be ready to talk right now but I won’t stand here while you eye me like a piece of meat. I’m a woman, not an object for your viewing pleasure, Billy.”

She was annoyed, anybody could be able to tell that. She hadn’t snapped at him, but she sure as hell didn’t say it in a way that can be brushed off.

She knew when to be stern, and from his past experience, she also knew when to get vicious.

He felt like a scolded child and he filled with guilt.

He shouldn’t have called her. He shouldn’t have asked her to meet him. He shouldn’t have ran out. He should have just stayed in that house with him.

She could notice the shift in Billy almost immediately. His eyes seemed to sink in and the smirk on his face took a significant hit. Yet the corners of his mouth were still turned upwards. In more of a sad smirk now.

“Right now, I want nothing more than to tell you everything about my life,” Billy spoke, and Y/N could see the unshed tears that mask his blue eyes. “But I don’t want to dampen the mood just as our night is beginning.”

Y/N deadpanned.

“Okay, sorry, morning.” Billy laughed softly. “How about we start by getting something to eat? I dragged you out here, the least I can do is take you for some breakfast.”

Y/N nodded softly, stepping towards her car. She didn’t miss the way Billy’s face dropped at her slight departure.

He peered back up when she pulled a pair of fluffy boots from the boot of her car and slipped them onto her feet. She pulled the passenger door of Billy’s Camaro open and rose her head to look at him before she slipped in.

“I’m not waiting around all night. You said breakfast, that’s like love language to me.”

Billy shook his head with a laugh before climbing into the car beside the girl.

He hated that he had fallen so hard for her, but he couldn’t stop himself now.

To say Y/N was surprised by the state of his car interior would be an understatement.

She couldn’t find a speck of dust anywhere. The leather seats were void of any mess, the floor looked as if it was vacuumed regularly and there was no rubbish anywhere.

It was a happy surprise, as she kept her Chevy in the same state.

What wasn’t shocking, was the music Billy listened to. There was a cassette in the radio, blasting a number of rock songs.

The car ride was short, so she only heard a few tunes.

The Ramones, Zepplin, the Stones. Everything she expected.

Every time she allowed herself to think that Billy wasn’t the stereotypical wannabe bad boy, she was proven wrong.

Sure, he kept his car clean. Sure, he rang her in the middle of the night with his breath shaking through sobs.

Sure, he had an earring that she didn’t know about and was interested in.

“You have your ear pierced?” She blurted, dude way aware that she had been staring at him for a few minutes.

He was aware of it, his smirk was evidence.

He made a noise of agreement. A deep rumble from the back of his throat.

“Got it before we left California to piss off-“ he stopped short. He didn’t want to tell her who he wanted to provoke, but part of him was longing to tell her how he intentionally made decisions against his fathers wishes.

“To piss off who?” She had a critical eye. She was curious and wouldn’t let him end a statement with no conclusion.

“Uh, my ex girlfriend. She didn’t think guys should get pierced so I wanted to prove her wrong before I left.”

He looked nervous. Y/N could tell he was lying but she chose not to push him.

She was often good at reading people but Billy was proving to be an enigma.

If she had to guess where his bruises came from, she would say from fighting with some other teenage boy.

She couldn’t explain the emotion that she heard through the phone though.

They pulled up to a small diner not far from the school. Before Y/N could even open her door, Billy had pulled it open and he was waiting for her to step out.

His movements halted at the look of shock on her face and he couldn’t stop the blush from rising to his cheeks.

“Oh! Sorry. S’a force of habit. Usually I do that for my step-mum,” his voice was low, almost shy.

“It’s alright, Billy. I don’t mind,” she said, standing up from the low car.

He smiled at the reassurance.

Billy generally acted in ways to provoke others. He intentionally acted out, in hopes that he could receive some positive attention. Hell, he was happy with negative attention from anybody but his father.

He didn’t often receive positive attention unless it was from some girl who wanted to end up underneath him, but Y/N wasn’t like that. And that made her much more enticing.

That, and the amazing car she drove, the way she didn’t take shit, her laugh, the way her eyes lit up in class when the topic shifted to something she was interested in.

The odd way she wore black stilettos all of the time, and the way she looked at the moment with her hair blowing in the wind and her soft shoes making her so much shorter than him.

He could just lean down and press his lips against-

“We going in? I’m starving and this place does the best waffles.” There was a smile on her face, and for the first time he noticed how her face was void of makeup.

Every imperfection was on show and he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.” He cleared his throat and walked towards the diner.

Once they were inside, he felt a sense of comfort was over him.

The air was much warmer inside and the smell of bacon cooking reminded him just how hungry he was.

He was so angry the night before that he skipped dinner.

Y/N led him to a booth towards the back of the diner, where they could look through the window at his car.

“I don’t trust the asshole round here.” She explained. “I always sit where I can see my car.”

He was slowly discovering more about her and he couldn’t wait to sit down and talk with her.

She ordered three waffles and coated them all in syrup. She also ordered a strawberry milkshake and proceeded to sip the syrup coated waffles into the pink drink.

She was unique. He couldn’t expect anything from her apart from the unexpected.

When he called her, he figured she would hang up. But instead she calmed him down and asked him where the could meet. Within seconds of ending the call, Billy had been in his car and driving off.

Billy settled for pancakes, arguing that they were better than waffles. Y/N shot him an evil look for that admission.

There was no conversation as they ate. Y/N had questions burning in her mind but she didn’t want to pry.

Then again, she also wanted answers for why she had left the house for him.

He couldn’t stop himself from telling her after he had finished eating.

“It was my dad,” his voice was quiet, and he didn’t meet her eyes when he spoke.

Y/N snapped her eyes to billy, furrowing her brows with confusion.

“What was your dad?”

He gestured to his face, not wanting to say the words for fear he would break down.

Y/N’s mouth fell open. She had heard rumors from the boys that Max and Billy’s dad wasn’t the nicest, but she didn’t want to believe anything for fear of it not being true.

“Your dad did that to you?”

He nodded slightly.

He flinched when her hand grabbed his from across the table. She held his hand with such gentleness that he found himself staring at their connected appendages.

“He’s been doing it since I was little. My mum left when I was a kid, so he turned from doing it to her to doing it to me. He’s tried it a couple times with Susan but I try to stop it.” He seemed as if he were in pain.

“Does he do the same to Max?” Y/N could feel herself getting angrier as Billy spoke. This was not what she expected at all, but now that he was saying it, she could see the signs.

“No, no, he doesn’t touch Max. He’s controlling to her, though. It pisses her off. She’s too independent for him. Little brat tried to make a run for it before we moved here.” There was a proud smile on his face. “I don’t blame her. If we got along more, I would have tried to make a run for it with her.”

Y/N’s eyes were full of sympathy. She wanted to help the man in front of her, but she didn’t know how to.

“I’m sorry, Billy. I’m sorry this has happened to you.” She watched as he quickly wiped a tear that had fallen from his blue eyes. He still refused to look at her.

“S’fine. I shouldn’t have called you,” he whispered, nor trusting his voice.

Y/N furrowed her brows.

She turned her head around to look at they diner. It was empty, save for the man behind the counter who was dozing off.

She pulled her hand from his and stood up. His heart dropped for a second, fearing that she was going to leave him.

It came as a shock when she slid into his side of the booth and placed her small hands on either side of his face. For the first time, she could see the pain in his eyes.

There were pools of tears waiting to break free, and the memories hidden inside of him were coming to the surface.

“If you ever need me, you call me. I don’t care what time of day it is, I’m here for you, Billy,” she said sternly, watching him carefully. “Your dad is an asshole, and you and Max deserve a hell of a lot better than that.”

“Susan does too. She’s too nice for Neil.”

“And Susan. Hell, I’ll marry her if she’s looking for somebody.”

Billy laughed softly, “yeah, that’ll really make Neil happy. Asshole can’t even watch me look in a mirror without throwing some gay slur at me.”

“What a butt muncher,” Y/N grumbled.

Billy couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight. She looked so grumpy, so protective. So beautiful.

“You’re the only one who knows, Y/N,” he whispered to her, allowing himself to melt into the feeling of her delicate hands on his face.

“It’s safe with me, Hargrove. Promise.”

It was that moment, that Billy realized, after many months of infatuation with the woman, he would do anything for her.

He had hit the bottom, fallen from such a height for her and he didn’t want to come back up.

And there, in the small diner at 5AM on a Saturday morning, he kissed her.

Delicately.

He would never forget the taste of syrup on her lips as their eyes both closed and they relaxed into the contact.

Tag list: @booksandfandomsarelife1 @originalwhore @http-cherries @cynthianokamaria @ietss @theatrechic26 @winter-captain-01 @thelastemzy @quaintflor @infinitelycharmed23 @mantlereid @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3

[ramblinganthropologist]

Fictober 21 - 2 “You have no proof”

I’m not tagging this one. It’s heavy.

Fanfic

Fandom: Inquistion

Summary: Withdrawal is hard. Dealing with that and his feelings is even harder for Owain Trevelyan. He doesn’t feel ready for this kind of thing. But maybe he doesn’t have to be. Maybe he just has to start.

(Warnings: mentions of withdrawal, child abuse, and homophobia.)

---

Another day, another pile of horse shit. Yet, somehow, still better than being a Templar. Life was funny that way.

Owain sighed in relief as he left the stable behind, body sore and mind tired. It had been a long day of taking care of the horses, punctuated by the fact he was actually afraid of them. People tended to forget that. Or maybe they did remember, and this was their way of torturing them. The Inquisitor seemed like a nice guy, so it was more likely than not that nobody had told him. He was going to go with that, because the alternative wasn’t great.

“Right… better go clean off and get something to eat.”

His mind was swimming, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been in weeks prior. He still felt the need in the back of his mind, but today it was more of a whisper than an outright scream. Tomorrow, who knew, but he was going to take his victories where he got them. A day without lyrium was in his book as good as any.

He just wished getting through this didn’t hurt so damn much.

“Alright there, Trevelyan?”

A deep voice made his insides flutter. He felt his face heat as he turned towards the barn. In his griping over the body aches, Owain hadn’t noticed that he had company. Someone was standing in the entrance to the barn, a block of wood in hand.

“Oh… Warden Blackwell.”

The man shook his head as he kept carving. He stopped to watch him, curiosity getting the better of him. Woodwork was always something he had admired as a young man, but he’d never had time to learn. Now he was probably too old for it. Knowing his luck, he’d probably cut one of his fingers off, and there would he be?

Well… not like he needed all 10 to take care of horses, but he’d like to keep them all the same. He had enough problems.

“Just Blackwell is fine.” His knife rasped against the wood again and again. From the looks of things, maybe it was starting to become a bird? “Long day?”

Owain could barely hear him over the pounding of his heart. “Oh… yes. I suppose so. I should be fine after I eat something, though.”

The man’s eyes were on him, studying him. It was hard to breathe then as he wondered just what Blackwell was looking for. Did he suspect him of lapsing on his promise? Most people did��� he couldn’t blame them for that.

He just wished this one hadn’t…

“Ask the healer for herbs for the pain.” He kept carving. “Overheard a few ex-recruits talking about it.”

There went his heart again, pounding like crazy. “I will… tomorrow. Right now, I just want food and my bed.”

There was Blackwell’s eyes on him again as he stopped carving. His stomach shifted, and for not the first time in his life he felt guilty for something he hadn’t done. Right then, he was nothing more than a schoolboy being scolded for a mess he hadn’t made.

It was kind of annoying.

He took a breath before he spoke. “I assure you… I have not lapsed.”

“I believe you.” Blackwell kept carving. “Be hard for a stable hand to get lyrium anyway, unless you’re friendly with the mages.”

His carving was turning less bird like by the second. It took Owain a second to realize it was becoming a griffin. Maybe he should’ve realized that one sooner – after all, the man was a Grey Warden. Griffins were kind of their thing.

But…

“That is quite true.” He frowned. “Forgive me if I was short…”

There he went again, apologizing. In those moments, he swore he could feel his father’s hand on him, and it was hard not to wince. Even years later, he found he couldn’t escape it. Maybe he never would be able to – talk about a legacy.

“You were defending yourself.” Blackwell finished carving. “Only natural, I suppose, given the hell you’re going through.”

He held his griffin up to the light. It was a fine thing, at least by Owain’s lack of knowledge, wings spread, and beak bared in what probably would have been a vicious scream if any lived to make a sound. It was a fierce little thing – he would’ve hated to see the full-size version. Or worse… shoveled its shit.

All things considered that probably would’ve been his job…

Much to his surprise, Blackwell left the barn and met him in the yard. Owain blinked back surprise as the griffin was placed into his dirty hands. That close, he could smell the other man – there was sweat there, but also wood and hay.

It… was a nice smell.

“Here. You looked like you could use it.”

And briefly, he smiled. It was a little hard to see with the beard, but he felt it nonetheless. His heart thudded to life once more as he watched the man walk back to the barn. In that moment, he forgot how to breathe as he looked down at his gift.

This was probably the point he should have said thank you, but he wasn’t sure how to work his tongue anymore.

At least he managed to nod his head as he sped off, clutching the carving close to his pounding chest. Owain didn’t slow down until he was all the way back in his room, away from prying eyes and clicking tongues. Then he slid to the floor, back against his door, staring at the little griffin he had placed on the floor.

Blackwell had made it for him.

“Oh, Maker.”

It took him a few moments to rise and make it to the wash basin, but his thoughts were of nothing of the Warden. Even the cold water left from that morning did nothing to dissuade him of images of Blackwell, his smile, his hands… everything.

He was acting like a bloody teenager…

“Get it together, Owain. You’re far too old for this.” He brushed back wet hair from his forehead, sighing as he studied his tired expression in the glass he had hung above it. Lyrium withdrawal had made him lose a bit more weight, and the dark circles under his eyes didn’t help matters. “Best to return to reality, my friend.”

The extra splash of water did nothing to help him other than to wash the stink off, but at least he was clean enough to go get some food without offending people. His griffin soon rested next to the basin, where it would no doubt guard his room while he was away. Then he shut the door behind him to head off.

Naturally, the Great Hall was a mad rush at mealtimes. He threaded among the crowd, keeping his eyes low as he made his plate. The lyrium withdrawal made it hard for him to eat, but he needed to if he wanted strength for tomorrow. At least the ale helped keep things down as he grabbed a mug and started to look for a place to sit. Much to his relief, he found a small spot off to the side. Away from others, he was content to sit.

And as soon as he did, his stomach began to turn.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slipped from between his lips, but thankfully no bile followed. Owain rode the sudden wave of nausea, shutting his eyes tightly. The light made things worse sometimes, he found. At least it would be over soon… and lucky for him, dinner wasn’t strong smelling. He definitely would’ve vomited if so.

Things were going his way for once.

As the nausea subsided, Owain allowed a shaky breath. When nothing came up, another followed. Soon, he could risk opening his eyes. The room was no longer spinning, which meant he definitely could risk trying to eat.

But… maybe a few minutes more, just to be safe.

“Now, now, it’s not polite to swear.”

A voice from off to the side drew his attention. He cocked an eyebrow at spotting a man dressed all in black, his face a grinning skull. Ian was doing better those days as well, though he still needed to put on a bit more weight. His robes were at least not hanging as loose as they had been.

Though, it didn’t explain why he was there…

“Can I…” His eyes widened as he realized there was another standing next to him, a woman in a long dress with a cloth wrapped around his forehead. “Oh… Aeronwen.”

His sister nodded stiffly. “Owain.”

The shock ran through him as they both sat across from him, placing their plates down. He was numb in the moment as all thoughts shut down. If either noticed, they didn’t care. They were too focused on eating.

Why now? And with him?

Ian answered that for him as he sipped from his mug, beaming in a none-too-friendly way. “So… I saw you getting awfully chummy with the Warden in the yard. Didn’t think you were into the big and hairy type.”

Owain’s heart stopped, and his mind reeled. “I… no you don’t…”

Aeronwen shook her head as she put down her fork. “We know you prefer men, Owain. So does Ian.”

“And Aery’s a big ol’ lesbian, so we’re the death of the Trevelyan line!” Ian laughed cheerfully, practically throwing his head back. “Well, besides any older siblings that had children… I guess that’s a fly in the butter.”

His heart was still struggling to start back up as he took in the information. On the bright side, he definitely wasn’t nauseous anymore. Downside… everything else. This definitely wasn’t a conversation he had been planning… well, ever. But it was happening, and he couldn’t exactly escape.

Fuck his need to be polite…

Ian seized upon his stunned silence and leaned in, grinning. “So… you and the Warden…”

His face heated as he glanced to the side. “I have no idea what you speak of Ian. We work in similar spaces and have chance to speak.”

And… sometimes he got presents…

“Looking like more than just speaking to me.” Aeronwen took a sip of her ale, grimacing. “Ugh, who brewed this, it tastes like rotten dirt.”

Her cousin chuckled. “Good to see you’re still an ale snob, Aery. It does my dark little heart good to hear you complain.”

“The stuff I make is miles better.” Her eyes were back on him, however. “But we’re getting off the subject. About your crush on the Warden…”

Another pang of panic shot through Owain’s system. Them knowing his attractions was one thing… implying he had feelings for Blackwell was another matter entirely. Maybe that was why he quickly rose to his feet, almost knocking his mug over in the process.

“I don’t…” he took a shaky breath to steady himself and his shaking hands. After that, it was a sip of ale to help his dry mouth. How it tasted like dirt, h had no clue – it didn’t matter then as he put it down with a still trembling hand. “You have no proof.”

Ian and Aeronwen exchanged looks, neither saying anything. It was impossible to tell what either was thinking then. However, he sank back down in his seat regardless. Shame was squirming in his stomach for so many things right then, he just couldn’t pick one.

On the bright side… no nausea?

“It’s not a big deal, you know. He seems interested.” Ian took a hearty sip from his mug. “Might as well go for it. Once you come off the lyrium withdrawal you’re going to be horny as fuck anyway.”

“Gross.”

“What, I heard an ex-recruit talk about it.”

None of their conversation registered with Owain. He was too busy staring blankly down at his plate, unable to think. Too many thoughts were racing through his mind; he couldn’t even think to grab one and settle on it as he wordlessly ate, mostly on instinct. If the pair noticed, they didn’t say anything.

In the end, he finished long before they did. Wordlessly, he got up from the table. Before long, he was leaving the hall. Right then, all he wanted was to find his bed and stay there until things made sense again. He would even take the aches in his body over this.

Fuck…

Maybe due to his inability to focus, he missed the sudden weight on his shoulders. Then it left him. He blinked and realized that someone was standing in front of him. Paper crinkled as they unwrapped a chocolate and popped it into their mouth, eyes glowing in the torchlight.

Jackel Lavellan. Just who he didn’t need.

“You should probably work on that whole shame thing. It’s going to cost you a chance at a good relationship.” She swallowed. “That, and all the work I did. It wasn’t easy getting you from creepy templar to mostly normal.”

He winced at the memory. “I thank you for the help but…”

The words died in his throat. A thousand things he could’ve said, but he just couldn’t get them out. In the end, he settled on silence. It was an old strategy, one he had mastered as a child. Once again, it was helping him.

How were they all so… casual about it?

Jackel nudged him forward – he moved without thinking. “He likes you. It’s why he made the griffin for you.”

Maybe if this had been a month prior, Owain would have been surprised. However, time and experience had taught him the elf knew everything hidden in Skyhold. For all he knew, she had been watching from a tree. She did that a lot – made it easier to jump on people.

Again, he would know – she had knocked him down a few times.

“I…”

He frowned. “I do not think I know what to do about any of this.”

The elf gave him a nudge forward; maybe on someone else it would have been a shove. Lucky for him, she was tiny. “Stop thinking about it with the big head and go with the little one. See where that leads you.”

Humorless laughter bubbled from his lips as Owain shook his head. “I can only see it leading to disaster.”

Where else could it lead? Even if it wasn’t Blackwell, it wasn’t like he had… experience… in these matters. The other man would expect him to know things he had no idea about. Just thinking about it made his stomach squirm, and the nausea returned.

Just the time to feel sick.

“Well, I don’t. And I know more than you.” She elbowed him in the side. “So, trust me and get that Warden already. He’s practically pining. It’s rude to make him wait.”

It was also rude to presume things… but Owain’s mind traveled back to the smile and the griffin resting in his room. Just thinking about them made his heart feel warm in a way he didn’t often allow. As much as it scared him, he wanted more. Right then, he wanted it more than his next breath.

But… to actually ask…

Jackel shoved him forward again. “Just do it. You don’t have to jump his bones on day 1 even, just get it going. Mythal’s tits, you’re slow.”

Get it going.

“I… think I could do that.”

She nodded at him, clearly pleased. “Good. And don’t forget to take a bath before you fuck. You don’t want to smell like horse shit. I doubt even he’s into that.”

Her bluntness brought the color to his cheeks, but at least he managed a nod. While the dark feelings still swarmed in his stomach, there was still the warmth that refused to leave even as they swarmed.

Maybe… he would stop by the barn. Just to talk. Nothing too serious yet. Just… starting things. If there was anything to start.

That thought may have been quiet, but something about it echoed through Owain’s body. For the first time in what felt like ages, his step was lighter as he started to walk again. While a weight still weighed him down, it was easier – almost manageable. Maybe with time, he would be free of it.

But… at least he was starting. And that was something. One small step was all it took to start, after all. Where it would take him, Owain wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it was in a new direction, one completely off the path planned for him. A step he had decided all on his own, tiny as it was.

He could get used to this sort of freedom. Now… what the hell was he going to say? They hadn’t exactly covered flirting with another man in etiquette lessons…

[bbaronpiper]

Excess baggage

Hi guys! I dunno if it’s fluff or not but it’s supposed to be fluff. lol. 

2, 14, 19, 32, 43, 44, 92 (they don’t have to be all in one like you could divide them see which work together and write like more than 1 stories with any of theseee pls and thank you💞💞)

this is for 44. Twirling a strand of their hair - but I changed it to twirl a strand of his hair and 92. “Where’s your adventurous spirit?!”

 gif not mine. credits to the owner. :)

Arón x reader

You’re staring at your newly bought thong with tears streaming down your face contemplating whether to throw it away or not like what you’ve done with some of your clothes too.  You’re currently sitting on the floor of Italy’s airport due to excess baggage. You’ve tried plenty of times and threw away what felt like most of your things but still cannot get through. Until you’ve heard footsteps approaching. You looked up and saw a tall man wearing a hoodie with sunglasses on. He seemed familiar but you just didn’t know where you saw him. He took off his glasses once he reached you and spoke.

“Hola, I have an excess space on my baggage for your coat” he simply said. He looked so calm and reserved. “also, I’m not a thief nor a perv who’s trying to get in your pants. Just wanna help” he half smiled.

You wiped away your tears and thought about it for a minute before looking back down on your coat and throwing it on the trash bin beside you. You have trust issues, yes, but after all, you’re in a different country away from home, alone with a stranger hovering over you.

“Arón” he simply said again and extended his hand for you to shake. “C’mon your coat looks expensive” You had doubts but took it anyways. “Y/N… Bought it on a thrift shop for half the price though” you said and smiled a little. You then handed him some of your clothes including the thong you threw away earlier. You don’t often hand your underwear to random people but you’re just tired and desperate to go back home to Spain. Besides, he didn’t seem to mind when he grabbed it from you and put it inside his luggage with a straight face on.

Finally, you both got through and proceed to the boarding gate, you looked at each other while walking and smiled.

“Gracias”                  

“De nada” he returned a smile before looking away from you. This man is simply a man of few words you thought to yourself.

The flight back to Spain was quiet. You shared a simple conversation like where you’re from, what you do, names of your siblings and so on. Then you discovered why he looked so familiar. He was an actor but you didn’t treat him any different since he seems like a down to earth person. At some point you fell asleep on his shoulder and he just let you. He was awake the whole time though. After a few hours, he woke you up saying to get ready as you guys just landed on Spain.

While waiting for your baggage you asked him if he wanted to get some merienda (snack) with you as a thank you gesture in return for what he did for you in which he gladly said yes. You both ended up in a nearby restaurant which served beers as well. Being the alcoholic he is and the broken- hearted that you are, you both up ended up getting a bit drunk. He loosened up a bit now, He’s more talkative than when you met him few hours ago and he smiled more now showing the little gap on his front teeth which you find cute to be honest.

“I really liked your tattoo, says a lot about you” he said referring to the tattoos on each of your wrists. It was the creation of Adam tattoo. You really loved it too, being an art graduate, you looked at it as a masterpiece.

“How about you? do you have more besides the ones on your arms?”

“Yeah, here” he pointed on his collar bone.

“Can I see?” you innocently asked. You didn’t realized what you asked him to do until he smirked and lifted his shirt up until his neck revealing his sun and moon tattoo on his collar bone. Damn this boy, he should’ve moved his shirt on the side but no, he had to remove his shirt but you ain’t complaining though. You stared at it absent mindedly more than you should have, not to mention the stare you gave down his abs. You were snapped out of your eye fucking moment when he pulled down his shirt.

He cleared his throat and put a finger on his lips to stop himself from laughing at the sight of you.

“yep. It’s nice” tearing your gaze away from him embarrassed that he caught you staring.

“My abs orrr….?” He trailed off, teasing you completely laughing now.

“Damn you! the tattoo of course!” you said your face turning hot red now.  “My ex has better abs than you!” you mocked. Your asshole of an ex, yes. You never told Arón what happened nor why were you in Italy. He doesn’t care. you were strangers after all. But damn this alcohol, made you vulnerable and emotional. You ended up telling him every detail as to what happened and he just sat there with his straight face on and a blush on his cheeks from the alcohol he just drunk.

You went to Italy to go surprise your boyfriend of 8 years. You were so excited you even bought new lingerie. He moved there from Spain for work and you haven’t seen him in almost a year. When he broke the news to you saying his boss wanted him to extend 2 more years, that’s when you decided to go and visit him. Fuck. You even thought of moving in Italy for good. But the jokes on you, ‘cos he has a better surprise. You found out that he’s been with someone else already. He was cheating on you.

“I don’t love you anymore, you may go. that’s what he told me” You sniffed. “We’ve been together for eight years but he just ended us with eight fucking words too!” you were crying now while he just continued to stare and listen to you with a little to no emotion at all. “Don’t you think I deserve a second chance with him? ” you grabbed your glass of beer and chugged it all at once.

“He doesn’t love you anymore” he repeated to you. “what else is there to explain?” he shrugged.

“Yeah. But eight years? Just like that? don’t I deserve at least an explanation?” You fought back.

“If he did explain, would it change anything?” he questioned you looking a bit sad.  “Bottom line is, He. Doesn’t. love. You. Anymore.” He repeated and emphasized each word.

You looked at him, still crying. “Gilipollas! Are we close? Are we even friends?! Joder! You’re rude!” he was right but you can’t deny the fact that it went straight to your heart.

He burst out laughing and you laughed along with him. Damn this alcohol you are now both into a roller coaster ride of emotions. His concerned eyes were replaced with a happy one. He just got an idea to go to the beach. He told you that people trying to move on often go somewhere far away from home where nothing could remind them of their ex. You being a dumbass and drunk. You said yes ignoring the fact that you just met him. But somehow, being with him was a relief. Yeah, he made unsolicited comments about your life and looks at you with no emotion most of the time and probably thinks you’re stupid for crying over this goddamn ex of yours this whole time but he makes a good company. He’s a listener, a gentleman and hasn’t taken advantage of you despite your current state.

----

You woke up with the sun almost blinding you from the bus window. You closed the curtains and looked on your left side and saw Arón’s head on your shoulder. His curls are now growing back and it looked so soft you suddenly felt the urge to twirl a strand of his hair with your index finger. It is indeed soft. You kept on twirling it until he moved a little. He then completely lifted his head up from your shoulders and looked at you.

“Where are we, bonita?” he asked while rubbing his eye. You blushed a little hearing him say bonita

“Italy”

“Fuck, No!” he straighten up on his seat and looked around.

You laughed at him and hit him softly on his perfectly toned stomach you’ve been eyeing all night. “Can’t believe you fell for that, dumbass. We’re on our way to Marbella. This is your idea, remember?”

“Oh, si!” scratching the back of his head. “well, I may not look like it but I’m a bit gullible” he laughed playing along with you.

You turned your head in front of you and saw a movie playing, you watched it for a few seconds before your face fell. Arón noticed this of course.

“Ahora, que?” he asked.

“The movie playing reminded me of him. We watched it on our first date.” you weren’t going to cry. You were tired of that but the sadness was evident in your face.

“Everything really remind you of him, huh?” Arón stated. There it is again, his damn comments.

“I have an idea! Every time I’m gonna mention him, I’ll give you one euro!” you stated excitedly but he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “what? It worked for my best friend!”

“Yeah okay, but one euro? What are we? 10 year olds? Make it one thousand euro.” He smirked.

“Cabron! One thousand euro your face!” you spat back

“fine, five hundred?” he fought back

“10 euro!” you laughed

“Wooww! Ten?! four hundred?” he laughed while mocking you.

“fifty euro!! Take it or leave it!” you stick your tongue out at him

“one hundred euro! C’mon! with this, you wouldn’t even dare to say his name!”

“fine! Deal! One hundred!” you then shook his hand. He smiled brightly at you knowing he won.

“So what are you gonna do with the millions of money you’ll save from this? Why don’t you just buy yourself a man” Arón joked

“Ijo de puta!” you spat at him.

“Damn, you really cursed a lot for a girl!” he laughed again.

“Shut up! I’m not like that!” you knew he was joking so you just laughed along. “I’ll just donate it to a charity. You know, the one where they support women, who were hurt and abused by their fucking exes, like my fucking ex! specially my fucking ex! Fuck my ex I hope he get what he deserved. That fucking assho—” you cut yourself as you saw Arón’s smile appearing on his lips and giving you the look. You both smiled and he then held his palm at you. you slapped it away.

“Arón! We’re not on yet!” you said laughing your ass off

“No, we had a deal already!” he smiled happily at you when he heard you mumble a curse and get your wallet and hand him the money. “Yes, I’ll be rich!” he mumbled.

---

After an eternity, you finally arrived in Marbella. You stretched your arms and body as soon as you got off the bus. Arón did the same while walking around the bus to get your baggage.

“Arón, thank you for this” you looked up at him and noticed how his hair is a bit shuffled, his plump lips and his brown colored eyes that shines through the sunlight.

“What do you mean by thanks for this? It’s not for free you know?” he looked back at you and hand you your baggage. You smiled at how you two became closer with just almost a day together. You’re just happy to be with him you start to feel like you knew him your whole life. The awkwardness was now gone.

“Sure! But just not my body! It’s expensive, you can’t afford it!” you played along.

“Damn! Too bad” he mumbled. Obviously, that was a joke right? But just to be sure so you looked at him with raised eyebrow and crossed arms. “god, I’m just kidding Y/N!” he winked and raise his hands up in defense.

The path from the parking lot to the hotel was a challenge, the wheels of your suitcases kept on sinking onto the sand. Take note, you have 2 suitcases and 1 shoulder bag. Arón, being the gentleman he is, offered some help but you insist that you can manage on your own. Damn this boy who decided to tease you again.  He walked up in front of you and lifted his baggage with one hand.

“it’s heavy, no?” he was smiling like an idiot.

“yeah, it is but I can manage” you lifted both of your baggage with each arm as Arón walks further away from you.

“you can, but you’re slooooow” Arón teased more.

“but I can” you spat back. He then walked further away until he disappeared on your sight. After 10 mins of struggling, you finally reached the hotel’s entrance. you then rolled your suitcases until the front desk, wiping away the sweat on your forehead and took a deep breath. Arón was on the side with his right foot over his left and his elbow leaning on the handle of his suitcase. Of course, he still has that goofy smile on his face watching your every action. He hands you a bottle of water. You smiled and blush on how thoughtful he is.

“oh, you made it!” he said while looking on the watch in his wrist.

“I managed! slowly but surely” you winked at him. At some point you thought that you both aren’t talking about the suitcases at all. You know that the whole interaction has a hidden meaning to it. you were both referring to your process of moving on. It’s too heavy for your heart but you can manage as time goes on. Slowly but surely.

You are now settled on your room. You trust Arón enough to stay in a room with him but of course you got the room with two beds. Not that you didn’t want to sleep beside him but it’s the right choice. You sat on your bed while cracking your neck and massaging your shoulders. You heard Arón laugh from across the room.

“you brat! That’s what you get for being so stubborn!” this man loves to make fun of you didn’t he. “let’s go get a massage!” he walked towards you in one swift and grabbed your hand. It happened all so fast you didn’t get the chance to protest. Not that you will. You mean, the feeling of his hand on yours is magical. You felt butterflies on your stomach as well. The feeling you haven’t felt in a while. You walked towards the spa with him in front of you absent mindedly. All you did was to look at your fingers intertwined with his.

“two full body massage please” Arón said to the woman on the front desk.

“couple’s room, sir?” the girl asked staring at Arón. She definitely recognized him, she was biting her lips and eye fucking the man in front of her.

“nahh. We’re not a couple” you smiled at her. “I don’t want him to peek at me naked!” you nugged Arón on the side.

“Wow, Y/N! me?” he pointed on his chest. “you were the one staring at my abs, remember when I showed you my tattoo?!” he nugged you back.

“You wish! I was looking at your collar bone!” you said suppressing a laugh

“my tattoo is here!” he pointed on his collar bone. “you were looking down here!” he then pointed on his abs. winking at you.

“First of all, asshole, you don’t have abs! you’re stomach is bloated!” you laughed loudly. The lady on the front desk started to laugh too. “C’mon, Arón, show her your non-existing abs” you said referring to the lady in front of you.

Arón then smile shyly, he refused to show it but you urged him. “Do it!” laughing more than ever. He protested but lifted up his shirt so fast and pulled it down right away. Showing just a glimpse of his stomach. “There! Happy?!” he was blushing and smiling happily. He looked so cute, his dimples are showing.

---

You must’ve fallen asleep through out the whole massage session as you felt someone poke on your cheeks. You opened you eyes to see Arón’s face close to yours.

“Morning bonita, get up! I have something to show you”

You put on your clothes and got out of the room. Only for Arón to take your hands on his again and drag you out to the beach. When you said drag, you meant like literally drag. He was walking so fast you almost stumble.

“Y/N! take huge steps! C’mon the sun is setting!” he said excitedly. The fuck is wrong with this man? “This is the best I can do, bruh!” he laughed and looked back at you. you were surprised when he stopped walking and bent down a little only to scoop you up on his arms. “Aróoonnn! Put me down!!” you giggled but wrapped your arms around him afraid you’ll physically fall. Not that you aren’t falling for him emotionally though.  He almost ran across the beach with you on his arms, he stopped when he reached a huge rock. He put you down, the smile you had on your lips slowly faded away as soon as the feeling of his skin against yours disappeared.

To cut the story short, he wanted to climb that huge rock. You just looked at him in disbelief.

“You’re fucking crazy, dude!”

“Where’s your adventurous spirit, Y/N!” he challenged you.

After multiple exchange of curses and a lot of convincing, you both decided to do it. you mean, how can you say no to this gorgeous man. If you’re gonna fall and hit your head on the rock and bleed to death then at least you got to do it with Arón. You would thank him even. besides, he promised not to let that happen. And he sure did, as you were now on the top of the huge rock.

The view of the sun setting across the horizon and the sound of the waves crashing against the rock made it all worth it. you closed your eyes as you felt the wind blow softly against your skin, enjoying the moment. You felt Arón hugged you from behind. He placed a kiss on your shoulder before placing his chin on it.  you held his arms and smiled

“Let it all out, bonita” he said softly close to your ears. That’s when it starts to hit you. The heaviness on your chest starts to resurface. You felt your tears form on your eyes again. You tried to stop it by keeping your eyes tightly closed but somehow it still escaped from your eyes. “It’s okay Y/N, scream, cry, let it out, it’ll make you feel better” his voice was so soothing. You did what you were told. You screamed it all out. You screamed all the pain you had inside you, all the disappointment, all the crushed plans you had with your ex, everything. You felt your body trembles from all the screaming and crying but Arón held you tightly keeping you from collapsing.

You were breathing heavily now, you turned around to face Arón and hugged him tightly as you cried on his chest. He returned the hug and rubbed your back to soothe you while whispering things like “sshh it’s okay Y’N” “You’ll get through this” “I’m here Y/N” and it did calm you. You pulled your head back and looked in his eyes as he stared back down at you.

“Gracias, this means a lot to me Arón.” You half smiled at him. He wiped away the tears streaming down your cheeks with both of his hands and holding it after. “No lo menciones, it’s my pleasure” he reassured you. He held you close, nudging you a little. You’re still crying but you managed to give him a small laugh. Letting him know it really helped you emotionally. You felt your emotional baggage became lighter. You knew it was too soon, but the butterflies on your stomach doesn’t wanna leave you alone. You felt yourself falling for this man, you mean, who wouldn’t. right?  

You pulled away from each other but decided to stay a while longer. You sat beside each other closely as the sun completely set right in front of your eyes.

“How do you forget someone?” you asked breaking the silence still looking at the sky

“Que?” he cleared his throat. “Umm, I don’t know. For me, I just woke up and she’s gone. I forgot all about her.” Arón said his eyes focused straight ahead.

“How long did it take you?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, A long time. I guess”

“6 months? 1 year? 2 years..3…4…5 ..?” you trailed off

“Does it matter? What’s important is that I forgot” he simply said “in your case, it might take 10 years” he bit his lips trying not to laugh

“Noooo!! Take it back, Arón!” you laughed nudging him with your shoulders. “I don’t think soo..” you added

“I dunno. All I know is that it all depends on you” he pursed his lips into a thin line before speaking again. “you can drink every night to forget. You can cry your heart out, you can go on dates with random people. It’s really up to you.” he paused “orrr you can find a new love” he smiled.

You snapped your head towards him and he did too. “you know as my man, F. Scott Fitzgerald once said” he smiled, his eyes glistening as the moonlight shines across it. 

“There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice”

You both stared at each other for a while before you snapped and put your head on his shoulder, he then wrapped his arms around you. It was silent, no one dared to say a single word but it was good kind of silence. The one you wouldn’t trade for anything else.

----

That’s it guys, sorry it’s a bit longer than I usually write. also, it’s inspired (changed some parts and dialogue) by a Filipino movie called “that thing called tadhana” tadhana means fate in english. lol. it’s on netflix. you should watch it! it’s so much better than what I wrote. 

[bluesfortheredj]

Hitsuzen.

Hitsuzen - A naturally foreordained event. A state in which other outcomes are impossible.

Chapter 10.

“Well that was unexpected,” John frowns as he looks over the photograph of the man on the screen, “do you think you could find out some more information on him?”

“I’ve got a couple of friends who are still in the Met, I’ll give them a ring now,” Nelson nods, heading back around to his side of the desk and picking up the phone straight away.

John watches Charlie intently as he speaks over the phone to his former colleague, his eyes narrowed at the DS as he tries to make out what’s happening in the conversation, and he leans over the desk as Nelson scribbles down notes furiously onto a notepad. He attempts to read the scrawls that cover the paper, taking no notice of the lines on the page, but is unable to thanks to the quickness of Charlie’s hand and the mess of his handwriting in such a haste to get the details down of what he’s being told.

“Okay, brilliant, thanks for that, bye,” Charlie lifts his head to look at John with a smile, “we’ve got him. He moved to Midsomer Wellow only three months ago, he has a sister by the name of Maria and this is where it gets interesting… she was married to an Adam Carter, the very same Adam Carter that works at Causton Comprehensive. Has previous for theft.”

“So this Kevin Marsden is Adam’s ex wife’s brother?” John clarifies with a slightly bemused look upon his face, “so why did he lock (Y/N) in the cupboard and try to gas her? And what was he doing at the school in the first place?”

“He could have been looking for Adam maybe,” Charlie thinks aloud, “and then panicked when he saw (Y/N) there instead?”

“Hmm,” he frowns, “let’s see if we can get the truth from the man himself shall we?”

“Oh it’d be my pleasure Sir,” Nelson says as he grabs his coat from the back of the chair.

The drive is unusually quiet for the two men; Charlie concentrates on getting to their destination in the quickest time possible while John’s gaze stays fixed to the file in his lap as he tries to connect the dots to every piece of information he knows so far. Why would someone seemingly so disconnected from everything suddenly try and interfere when the divorce had already been settled? How could someone mistake you for a man you didn’t resemble in any way, shape, or form? John’s brow furrows deeply as he flicks from page to page, making the odd note here and there when Charlie’s driving was steady enough, and Nelson almost forces the pen out of his hand when he has to make an emergency stop as he sees the suspect running down the path after seeing the blue flashing lights heading his way.

“Nelson!” John scolds, but he soon realises why it was necessary, “get him!”

John hops out of the car just in time to see Nelson sprinting after the man, his jacket wafting behind him as he jumps up and over a fence for a short cut to the suspect’s path. There’s a scuffle as he reaches out and pushes the man to the ground as he lands awkwardly next to him, but Nelson soon gains the upper hand when he rolls Kevin onto his front and grabs a hold of his hands to cuff at his back.

“Kevin Marsden, I’m arresting you on suspicion of assault...” Charlie reads him his rights as he pulls him to his feet while John looks on and gives him an encouraging nod.

“Well done Nelson,” he says when the two men get back to the car and Kevin is squeezed into the back.

“Sir,” Charlie nods.

After being booked in at the station he’s lead to an interview room where he’s made to wait while John and Charlie keep an eye on him through the door, waiting for Kevin to start sweating about what’s happening and hoping that he’s put in the mood to talk.

“What do you think? He hasn’t said a word apart from confirming his details,” Charlie whispers as they watch him through the small window.

John takes a deep breath, “at this point I’m not entirely sure, but there’s no way he’s getting out of what he did to (Y/N), that’s for sure. We’ve got him on that one. We’ll just have to see if he’s willing to explain why he did it. I’ll take the lead on this one, try not to make him too uncomfortable with that stare of yours Nelson.”

“I promise nothing Sir.”

John opens the door suddenly to make Kevin jump, then the two men settle in their seats opposite him as the paperwork is carefully placed on the table and slowly organised so that both Charlie and John can see what they need to in order of questioning.

“Kevin Marsden...” John begins, first looking him in the eye then averting his gaze to the papers in front of him, “brother of Maria Marsden, correct?”

Kevin nods, “yeah,” he croaks nervously.

“The same Maria Marsden that was once married to Adam Carter?”

“Mhmm,” he agrees, his finger tips tapping on the table lightly.

“So, were you visiting Adam at Causton Comprehensive last Monday?”

“Never been there,” he shrugs.

“Never?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So you’ve never seen these items before?” John asks, sliding two photographs across the table; one of the rubber tubing that was pushed through the vent and one of a gas cannister lying on the floor outside the cupboard.

Kevin’s eyes flick down to the pictures then before bouncing straight back up again and looking everywhere but at the two men in front of him, “nope, never.”

Charlie scoffs, desperately wanting to say something, but he thinks better of it as John then asks his next question, “would you care to explain how your fingerprints were found on these items left inside Adam’s classroom at Causton Comprehensive then?”

“No idea,” he shrugs.

“Oh come on!” Nelson says exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air, “they didn’t exactly get there by themselves did they? It would be better for all of us if you just tell us the truth now. We have your fingerprints, they’re hard to fake. If you don’t tell us what happened then we’ll have to bring in your sister Maria to see if she knows anything...”

“No! No, don’t involve her, this has got nothing to do with her, I swear. She doesn’t know anything about this,” he babbles nervously.

John nods, impressed with Nelson’s technique, “okay then, all you need to do is tell us exactly what happened, and how this situation went from a body being found in school grounds to an innocent woman ending up in hospital.”

Kevin sighs as he leans his elbows on the table and crosses his arms in front of him while he looks between John and Charlie who are awaiting his reply.

“You have to believe me when I say this has nothing to do with Maria. She doesn’t even know I’m here, she thinks I’ve gone abroad. I promised not to do anything when she told me about what had happened… but she’s my sister, I couldn’t let him go unpunished.”

“Let who go unpunished?” Barnaby asks.

“Adam.”

“What did he need punishing for?” Nelson adds.

“The abuse he put her through; the mental and physical abuse that caused her to seek a divorce and escape back to out parent’s house for fear of her life. I helped her get out of there, and I swore that I’d get him back for what he did to her. It was meant to be the perfect crime; disposing of his house mate and framing him for the whole thing.”

“But things didn’t go to plan did they?” John continues.

“No,” Kevin exhales, now lifting his hands from his arms and rubbing his face, “they didn’t. I didn’t think he’d have a breakdown over it all so easily, although it does go to show that he’s really just a pathetic little coward underneath it all. I knew he wouldn’t have an alibi for the night I took care of Luke, but it was meant to be him in that classroom when I was there, not the woman. I panicked, she would have seen me if she turned around so I locked her in. Everything was set up for Adam, not her, but then I couldn’t risk her breaking that door open so I had to feed in the gas, just to knock her out though that’s all, it wasn’t to hurt her.”

“So you were out to harm Adam?”

“Yes! I knew it had gone wrong when Adam started to go off the rails, I was going to plant evidence in the classroom, in his house, but his movements became so erratic I never had the chance, so I just thought why not bump him off too? The world would be a better place without him, my sister wouldn’t have to live in fear; I don’t know, it just all spiralled out of control,” Kevin explains as a quiet sob jolts his body after the last few words.

“Do you know if Maria has had any contact with Adam recently? He mentioned that she had,” Charlie questions, remembering what you had said about his outburst.

“Never, she would never do that in case he found out where she was,” he frowns, “why would he say that?”

“We have yet to find out. For now, we will be charging you with the murder of Luke Clemmon and the assault of (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” John states as he gathers up the papers, “you will be escorted to a cell now.”

The two men leave the room and Charlie quickly gets to his desk so he can collapse into his chair with a long sigh, “well I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nor me, but we need to speak to Adam again, find out why he lied about Maria getting in touch.”

“Mhmm,” Charlie agrees, his mind wandering to you.

“Why don’t you go and check on (Y/N)? I’ll send some officers to pick up Adam,” John suggests, seeing the vacant look in Nelson’s eyes.

“Yes Sir, I’ll be back soon,” he nods, jumping at the chance to see how you were doing.

It doesn’t take him long to get to Sarah’s and she spots him pulling into the driveway so he doesn’t even have to knock when he gets to the door.

“Can’t keep you away can we?” she chuckles as he steps inside.

“We’ve had an interesting afternoon and I needed a break so why not visit my favourite people?” he smiles.

“I think she’s still asleep upstairs, but you could do me a favour and take her a fresh glass of water if you like?”

Charlie nods enthusiastically as Evie comes running towards him on her unsteady feet, rushing past Sarah with her arms outstretched until she can rap them around one of his long legs, “Charlie! Mummy’s still in bed. She’s very tired. Do you love mummy? Can you be my new daddy?”

“Evelyn!” Sarah laughs nervously as she peels the little one away from Charlie, “I think someone’s had a bit too much chocolate cake! Why don’t you and Betty see if Sykes wants to walk around the garden?”

“Okay!” she grins excitedly.

Sarah hands the glass of water to the stunned man then turns on her heels to check on the girls as Charlie ascends the stairs quietly, trying to wrap his head around the barrage of questions that had just been hurtled at him. He gently curls his fingers around the edge of the door before pushing it open ever so slightly until he can see your now peaceful face resting upon the soft pillow. You looked much more comfortable than before and his mouth turns up into a hint of a smile at the sight of your calm features. He places the glass down on the bedside table then perches himself right on the edge of the bed next to you, reaching his hand out and brushing the hair back from your face gently so he can admire the woman he’d fallen so deeply for.

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