#who should not be ashamed of what they eat or drink nor be judged by the standards of me

[brontes]

Gonna get in trouble at church because I genuinely don’t think “Christian” media should exist as a genre. I think Christians should write good and even excellent stories about the nature of the human condition and if they truly follow Jesus the evidence of that joy and wisdom and goodness will pervade whatever they make whether they like it or not. Stop worrying about what you want people to learn like it’s a lesson and just say something true and beautiful.

And as an audience, stop being afraid of stories that might not agree with you and seek things that are good and true and beautiful.

[thestyleswritings]

Fix You

"We talked about something you said to me a while ago." She says, tone short. He couldn't tell if she was angry or if she was being shy about something.

 "Well? I'd love to hear what I said that you're still thinking about months later and talkin’ to your therapist about, baby." The hand that lay stationery on her thigh squeezed a bit, encouraging her to talk to him.

 "You said something about making a baby with me. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it." She muttered, biting her lower lip. His whole body went rigid beneath her at that.

Or - The one where you have depression and Harry leads you in the right direction, and then some

(6.1K)

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Mention of Mental Health Issues, VERY brief mentions of suicide, Language, Possible Breeding Kink(??), Smut (at the end)

Masterlist

I wrote this in one night,,, shout out to mania.This isn’t even what I was working on. I don’t know if this is something that many people will want to read but it definitely brought a smile to my face to write. Do I need therapy? Probably. Will I ignore that and continue to escape my own mind through fiction? Absolutely. Reblog/Like if you enjoy!

  Harry knew she'd been struggling for a long time. It wasn't like her depressive periods lasted very long when they happened, maybe around a week or so, but when they hit, they hit her hard. He'd asked her when they first started dating, years ago, why she never invited him over and why she always went to his place, and at first she didn't want to tell him. It was embarrassing to her that she sometimes got into these periods where she didn't even want to lift her head from the pillow, let alone tidy up her flat.

  Harry eventually went over to her place once she felt comfortable enough to let him. She knew he wasn't going to judge her, and she knew all he wanted was to help her feel better. He stayed at her flat for hours the first time he came over, helping to fold the laundry she had done days before, dusting the bookshelf, clearing out the refrigerator. He'd joked they were a perfect match since he loved to clean up while listening to music they both loved; it relaxed his mind. His love language was acts of service anyway, which he constantly had to remind her of. He didn't mind doing anything and everything in his power in order to alleviate his lover's stress. She had sworn to Harry she'd try her best to keep the place in tiptop shape, but he didn't actually expect her to.

  He'd lost more than one friend to severe depression and he knew it was nothing to take lightly. Unfortunately, he also knew the signs to look for in suicidal people all too well. He could tell she had become moodier and spent a good bit of her day in bed either sleeping or just staring off into the void. She texted him that she was at home more and more, opting out of seeing her close friends for drinks or dinner. He hadn't seen her, either. It was all beginning to worry him deeply. He knew she'd have bad days, he'd signed up for that, but this was bigger than just a rough day. It had been going on for nearly two weeks and he knew he couldn't wait to address it any longer. He wanted to approach her tenderly. He was fearful that if he misspoke, she would shut down.

  That's how he ended up at her door one evening, unannounced. He brought along two sunflowers, one significantly taller than the other. He'd seen them at the florist's downstairs and they made him smile to himself. They were her favourite flower, and the posture of them reminded him of both of them. He hoped they would make her smile, too.

  He didn't bother ringing the bell, fishing out the spare key she had made up for him from his jeans pocket. When he stepped through the threshold, his heart sunk. There were empty cups on the coffee table, and he knew that meant she wasn't eating. If she were, there would've at least been a bowl or two. In that regard, her untidiness was helpful. He could assess the situation before even having to talk about it. 

  He sighed deeply as he gently places the sunflowers down on the kitchen island, walking over to clear the short table in front of the loveseat. He could practically feel the pain she was in and he hated.  He hated the fact that she had to be stuck with the short end of the stick. He walks the cups over to the sink, running the water over them for a moment before grabbing the sponge on the ledge of the sink to scrub them clean.

  As he washed the cups, he thought of what he could say to her that would actually prove to be helpful. It wasn't easy to always have the right words when the person hearing them didn't care if they lived or died. He knew if he told her outright how upset he was seeing her this way, it would only serve to make her feel worse that she couldn't help it. He didn't want to force or therapy on her, but he really wasn't left with many options. He wouldn't lose someone else to this. He couldn't live with himself, nor without her.

  He shuts off the tap and dries his hands on the cute yellow kitchen towel that was always draped on the cabinet next to the sink. With the flowers in hand, he cracks open her bedroom door. There are a few small piles of clothing around, t-shirts and sweatpants carelessly discarded based on the look of how everything was inside out.

  The sight of her breaks his heart. She was curled up tight beneath her fuzzy blanket that he knew she only pulled out when she was missing him and his snuggles, facing the wall while her arm hung limply over the stuffed dragon he'd gotten her ages ago. He could tell she hadn't gotten up all day, that much was evident. All the lights in the apartment had been off when he'd arrived and there was a stillness to the air. She hadn't even answered his messages sent hours earlier. He thought the worst for a moment, frozen in place with wide eyes trained on her unmoving body before hearing a soft snore coming from her, easing his breathing exponentially.

  He sits on the edge of her bed, placing the flowers with a shaky hand in a cup of water that had been sitting on her bedside table. He brings his hand up to the dip of her waist, gently rubbing up and down the length of her torso to soothe her awake.

   "Wake up, bug. S'me. Brought ya a little present." He coos at her once he heard her intake a large breath, reaching up to tuck her thick hair behind her ear. He could tell she hadn't washed it in a few days and made a mental note to encourage her to shower with him. She stirred under his touch, like she could tell it was him even when she was deep in slumber.

  "Harry?" She calls out quietly into the dark, feeling the warmth of his palm against her cheek. Had she been more awake and alert, she might've even been sheepish at her disheveled appearance. She already knew he saw all the empty cups on her table that had once been full of tea and coffee. She felt ashamed.

  "Yeah baby, it's me. Can you turn around and let me see that pretty face?" He croons, removing the hand that had been stroking her hair.

  She sighs deeply before turning over in her full sized bed, eyes focusing on the plush faux-down blanket beneath her. His hand slowly approaches her face again, this time grabbing hold of her chin softly to have her look at him. He smiles sadly at her. She knew that look. It's the same way her mother would look at her when she came into her room as a teenager. Pity, almost. It made her feel weak. 

  "Hello, my angel. Have you been in bed all day, lovie?" He dotes on her, running his thumb across her cheekbone. He knew the answer, he just wanted her to acknowledge it.

  "Mhm. What time is it?" Her voice is hoarse, as if she'd been crying the night before. The sound of it deflated Harry's heart in his chest.

  "S' a quarter til six, lovie. What time did you fall asleep?" He asks, leaving his hand on her face to cradle her soft cheek.

  "Dunno. Seven, eight? This morning sometime." She replies, sighing at her own erroneous sleeping schedule. Harry presses his lips together silently, taking in her words.

  "Alright. Well, I'm here now, so up you get." He requests softly. Softly enough where she doesn't find it demanding. He stands from her bed, holding a hand out to her.

  "Did I hear you say you brought me something?" She asks as she sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. He chuckles at her, knowing that a huge part of her mental illness caused her to crave buying material possessions, only for them to mean nothing to her the very next day. It was something she was truly trying to work on.

  "Yes baby, I did. S' on the bedside table." He informs her, waiting for her to turn and see them before he walks closer to her. She caresses the vibrant petals of the yellow flower, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

  "I... I love them, Harry. Thank you." He can hear the tightness in her throat and he worries that he should've just not gotten them at all for a moment before he sees the genuine smile across her lips.

  "I saw them and thought of you. Well, us, really. Don't they look like us?" He beams at her, and she sort of thinks she can see what he means. He looks like a sunflower when he smiles. He brings light and beauty into her life. Maybe that's why she found herself wanting to cry. Because she felt like she wasn't worthy of the human sunflower standing in her room.

  "Yeah. They do look like us." She offers a smile, smaller this time now that she's thought about it. She wraps her arms around his middle, allowing the overwhelming feeling of warmth and comfort to consume her for a moment before pulling away.

  "I should probably go clean off the coffee table, huh?" She says humorlessly, walking the way of the door before his voice stops her.

  "I did it for you, baby. Why don't you come with me to have a nice warm shower? I want to talk to you about some things while we're in there anyway."  Panic strikes her still; what did he want to talk about? Was he finally fed up? Did he find someone else, someone who could take care of themselves properly? Was that why he was being especially sweet on her? She felt like she could throw up. She didn't know how to do this without him anymore, and that alone scared her. It wasn't to say she didn't adore him for all that he does for her, she just wished he didn't feel like he had to. She wished she could get her mind well enough to care to do even the simplest tasks.

  She nods her head and thanks him quietly for straightening up before walking into her bathroom and stripping down to nothing. She reaches into the shower to turn on the water and waits for it to get warm, as well as Harry. She didn't like the sound of wanting to talk, even if he hadn't necessarily said it in a menacing way. When he joins her, he follows her lead by taking everything he wore off. He didn't want to look at her body for too long and become distracted like he often did when he saw her, especially when he really saw her. She had soft features and her body was always so pliant in his hands. Though, he couldn't allow his mind to wander right now.

  He gets in first, testing the water and making sure it was around the temperature they both liked before reaching for her hand and pulling her in gently. She expected him to keep some distance, so when he wrapped his arms around her from behind as they stood under the steady stream of water, she was a bit taken back. Was he being overly affectionate as a way to say goodbye? He places a few kisses to her shoulder before peeling himself away and grabbing her peach shampoo off the built-in shelf. She leans her head back to make sure her hair is all wet before allowing him to lather her hair with the sweet smelling soap for her. She always loved how he massaged her scalp with it.

  "So, I know you might think I wanted to talk about something bad, but I promise it's nothing bad. I just want you to know that before you start making scenarios up in your mind." He speaks softly, matching the pressure of his fingertips in her hair. He sees her shoulders sag and he feels awful. She'd already started thinking of potential issues he may have wanted to talk about. He carries on by rinsing the shampoo out and repeating, creating a much foamier lather the second time around. He rinses it out for her by guiding her beneath the waterfall, following up with the peach conditioner.

  "What do you want to talk about?" She whispers, enjoying the feeling of Harry's hands moving lower with her wash rag, scrubbing her limbs delicately as to not harm her skin.

  "Well... you. You know how much I love you, yeah? Can't fuckin' live without you, you know? Hurts me when we're apart for too long, or when we have to sleep alone. I, um... I just want you to be happy," he sighs. He prattled on a bit; his thoughts were jumbled and he didn't know how else to tell her this.

 "I want to be able to know you're okay when I'm not with you, even if I want to be with you always. I know you're going through a rough spot right now, and I want you to have help. More help than just me," he's as gentle as he can be, and she appreciates it. It doesn't mean she wants to cry any less, of course, but she knows he has the purest intentions.  

  He wants her to thrive, not just survive. He knew he could only do so much for her before she had to start doing things for herself. He loved to baby her and take care of her, but not when he had to. He wanted to help her shower sometimes and feed her because he wanted to, not because she wouldn't do it herself if he didn't.

 "Are you saying you want me to find a therapist?" She asks softly. She's not opposed to the idea, she just never found the strength to actually care enough about her own mental well-being to make an appointment. 

  "Are you okay with that? Would you be open to it if I helped you find someone to talk to? And maybe try medication? I know it's a lot at first, but it helps so many people. Just can't keep seeing you so sad. Hurts my soul, since we share the same one." He turns her around now to look at her property while they spoke. He could see the furrow in her brow, like someone was pinching them together with their fingers. 

 He saw the tears welling up in her eyes and his heart nearly explodes at the pout forming on her face. This isn't what he wanted to happen. He didn't want to make her cry. Her chin trembles as she tries her hardest to look anywhere but at his face.

  "Oh, baby," he coos, wrapping her up in his arms once more, "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry, m'love," he kisses the top of her head, peppering them all around wherever he could reach. "M' just worried, baby. When I came in earlier it looked like you- I just, I can't imagine what I would do if-" he's slightly panicked now, she can feel his heart picking up it's pace. She didn't know that was something he worried about with her and it made her whole body ache.

  "You didn't. It wasn't that. I would really appreciate if you could help me find someone to help me further. I'm crying because I'm hurting you when I don't deserve you in the first place," she sniffles, pressing her face further into the slippery skin of his neck. "You deserve someone who's whole, someone who you don’t have to worry about."

  "Hey," he pulls back from her, holding both her shoulders so he can look her in the eyes, "I love you. So much that I'd die without you at this point. Just told you that. Please don't put thoughts and words into my mouth. I mean everything I say to you, don't let your brain fool you into thinking it's not true. When I tell you I love you, please know I mean that with everything I have and everything I am. I'm not whole without you. I worry because I love you so much that it would kill me to lose you," His voice is soft yet firm all at once, conviction filling his tone.

  "Promise?" She asks weakly, knowing what he's telling her is the truth. Her brain tended to sabotage her.

  "I promise." He kisses her lips, backing her underneath the water once more to rinse her off before reaching behind her to shut off the water. He steps out before her, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her short body.

 "I'm going to make something for us to eat, angel. Come sit with me at the counter so I don't get lonely?" He asks once they're both dressed. He wore her sweatpants and t-shirt while she wore his Christmas themed pyjama pants with his Spice World hoodie.

 "You want me to?" She can't help but wonder why he wants her to be around him so much. She knew he loved her and they'd been dating for almost four years, but she found herself to be a buzzkill. She just exuded sadness, she thought. Harry scoffs at her playfully, rolling his eyes. He knew she couldn't help but doubt herself, but he still found it absurd. Of course he'd want to be around her all of the time. She was so accepting and loving, even if she didn't think so. She was good.

"Obviously, angel. Always want you within two feet of me. As a matter of fact, I wish you were pocket-sized so I could bring you everywhere with me until you got sick of seeing my big dumb head." He smirks at her, making her genuinely laugh. She hadn't done that in a while.

 "You're such a dramatic nutter." She laughs, pushing him away from her so she could walk into the kitchen to find a stool to occupy.

 "Me!? Were you not the one that cried because you couldn't stop thinking about The Hunger Games?" He comes in behind her, smacking her ass playfully in retaliation of her push before quickly walking at least an arms distance away from her.

"That's literally not fair? Finnick deserved so much better than that. You cried when we watched it together too, fucker!" She explains even more dramatically than he had been in the first place, as if he hadn't been there too. He chuckles as he opens her refrigerator, kissing his teeth when he finds nothing defrosted to cook. All she really had was oat milk, a bottle of homemade cold brew and a few cups of yoghurt.

"Fair enough. I'm going to take this chicken down so we can make it tomorrow, but since there's nothing else, do you wanna do Japanese?" Kicking the door closed as he walks closer to her with two water bottles in hand.

"You know I can never say no to Japanese. I'll order it," she offers, but he's already shaking his head with his phone in hand.

"It's on me. We're eating food you bought tomorrow, s'only fair. I wanna know what else you could never say no to? Like maybe... moving in with me?" He says without looking up as he places the order, already having her favourite meal saved on his phone, along with his own.

 At first, she doesn't react. She doesn't move a single muscle, not even her eyes. He doesn't take her stunned silence personally, waiting for her to process what he'd just offered. He can practically see the cogs turning when he looked at her.

"You want me... to live with you... in your big beautiful mansion of a house..." She says slowly, turning her gaze to his own. He exhales a laugh at the flabbergasted expression on her face.

"Yes, baby. Told you I'd bring you everywhere with me, and we've been together almost 4 years, known each other 6. I don't know about you but I'm ready to wake up to your face every day." He smirks once more, reaching out to tucker her hair behind her ear like he always did. He just wanted to see more of her pretty face.

"You- I... Harry. You know what? Yeah. I will." She had began to refuse before catching herself. This was a normal next step in a long term relationship. She wouldn't sabotage this. She was a better version of herself when she was with him, and they made each other happy. 

"Yeah? You will? I'm so happy baby, thank you. I'm tired of waking up alone and missing you every day. It's dumb." He tackles her in a hug, attacking her with a million kisses. He doesn't bother holding back the few happy tears he sheds, he doesn't care and he knows she doesn't either.

—

  He had proposed to her the day she moved in, after she unpacked her last bedroom item and found a place for it. It was the silly green dragon, who now lived between two puffy pillows on their shared bed. He'd had the ring burning a hole in his dresser for over a year and he couldn't stand it anymore once he saw how at home she'd made herself. That, and he wanted to make love to her while she wore the sparkling diamond.

Something about the visual prompted him to drop to his knee behind her instantly.

  It had been a year since she moved into Harry's “big beautiful mansion of a house”, and they were happier than ever. She was seeing a therapist that she enjoyed, someone whom she felt comfortable with. She had also begun taking medication. The first few prescriptions weren't right, but Harry encouraged her to keep trying different things and held her hand along the way. She finally found the one that matched her chemistry, and it worked a treat. She could focus on things better, and she had the energy to do so many things that she would even go on the occasional run with Harry. It was amazing for him to see her in such high spirits. It was like the her that only he could see was finally free, brightening up the world around her. More importantly, she could finally see herself that way, too.

A few months after she said yes, he had said something to her that she couldn't shake.

"Wanna make babies with you."

  He'd said it to her in passing, staring at her with hearts in his eyes as she sat on the grass in the garden. The sun was hitting her skin so beautifully and she just looked so radiant. He couldn't help it. It had just slipped out.

  She brushed it off at the time, but now it was all she could think about. She had even told her therapist about it. While the older woman seemed excited for her, she still asked if that was something she'd want. If she'd even thought about it.

  And truthfully, she had thought about it before. A lot. She's thought about Harry rubbing her tummy, kissing it and singing. She's thought about them falling asleep together when the baby is finally born. She's thought about how much of a daddy's girl they'd have, if it turned out to be a girl. She's thought about how if he babies her this much, she would love to see how much he'd baby their real baby. She's thought about how much she and Harry would love their shared creation. She’s thought about how much more love it could bring into their lives.

  She'd arrived home from a session one day after work to find Harry peacefully reading on the couch in the soft yellow light of their living room. She took a moment to admire him from this perspective before making her presence known. Jingling her keys a bit harder than usual, making his head turn in time to watch as she hangs them up before shedding her coat and walking over to the back of the couch.

 "Hello, my love." She coos, rubbing her flat palms against his chest. She kisses the side of his face a few times and he grabs hold of her hands, clutching her closer and enjoying her warmth.

 "Hi, lover. How was today? Work was alright?" He lets her hands go with a kiss so he can dog-ear's his page before shutting his book, giving her his undivided attention. She rounds the couch and decides to sit on his lap, looping her arms around his neck. His hands automatically shift to hold her waist.

"Work was the same. People are obnoxious and rude. What can I do? Session went well too. Talked about something I've been thinking about a lot." She looks down at him, tracing her finger subconsciously against the silver chain he never took off. She can't help but smile at how pretty her lover is, making him reflect the same expression.

 "Want me to go down there and give them a talking to? You know I'd do it." He glares playfully, furrowing his brows and puffing his chest. She laughs softly at his silly demeanour. It's one of the things she loves the most about him.

 "Shut up. Annoying," She laughs, hiding her face in his neck. He laughs with her, dropping a hand to one of her thighs to smack it lightly for her comment, ultimately choosing to leaving it resting there.

"That's you. Anyway, what did you talk about? Is there something bothering you?" He asks, ignoring the way her brow raises at him for calling her the annoying one. They had such a lighthearted relationship. It filled them both with joy.

 "We talked about something you said to me a while ago." She says, tone short. He couldn't tell if she was angry or if she was being shy about something.

 "Well? I'd love to hear what I said that you're still thinking about months later and talkin’ to your therapist about, baby." The hand that lay stationery on her thigh squeezed a bit, encouraging her to talk to him.

 "You said something about making a baby with me. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it." She muttered, biting her lower lip. His whole body went rigid beneath her at that.

 "You've been thinking about it this whole time and didn't say anything?" He questions softly, looking up at her with loving eyes. She nods her head, looking off to the side to gather her thoughts.

"Yeah. I... I really want that, Harry. I already promised to love you forever when I said yes, and you make me so much better. I can't imagine how amazing you'll be as a father. I, um, I also stopped taking my birth control a few days ago." She spoke with confidence. She knew this was what she wanted, and she could tell he did too. There was something in the way she spoke about it that made him stand with her in his arms.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to put a baby in you?" He speaks boldly, almost matter of fact. He wasn't asking, he was confirming. She says nothing, choosing instead to nod furiously.

 He beams at her, bringing her all the way to their bedroom before sitting her delicately on the bed. She rolled her eyes at that; it's not like she was already pregnant. He catches the look and reaches to her shoulder to shove her on the bed with an eye roll of his own.

"Better?" He mocks, grinning from ear to ear at her shocked expression. He takes his shirt, that was actually her shirt, off along with his joggers before clambering on top of her.

"You're such a knobhead." She laughs, taking off her own shirt. She didn't feel like waiting.

"A knobhead that you want to come in you. A knobhead that you want to father your children!" He exclaims jokingly. She can't help the grin on her face, pulling his chin until their lips met. Her grin evaporates when she feels him practically rip her skirt off, alongside her flimsy thong. She gasps at the feeling of his fingers on her, rubbing over her slit ever so gently. Feeling how wet she was for him.

"Were you thinking about this on your way home? You're fucking drenched." His voice had lost all sense of humour, acquiring a certain gravel to it that only served to make her wetter. She only nods, kissing his lips in a pleading sort of way.

"You want my baby this bad, huh? Want me to make you a mummy? Want to make me a daddy? S' that it, angel?" She couldn't take it anymore. The sound of his voice was driving her insane and she had checked if she was ovulating this morning and found out she was. It was like her body was demanding for him.

  "Yes! Yes, lover. Please? Want it so bad," Harry felt his heart warm at the tone of her voice. He knew they called each other lover in bed when they were feeling too romantic, too lost to the moment. In a good way. She was truly desperate to try for a little person with him. Quickly, he rolls them over so she's sat atop him once more. He kisses her immediately, bringing his hand down to dip his fingers into her now sopping wet hole.

  She choked on a gasp as she felt him slide two in, curling them at the joint to apply pressure exactly where he knew she needed it. He took advantage of her head falling back, attacking her neck with tender love bites and kisses. His other hand roamed around her stomach and back for a bit before reaching for her chest, tweaking her nipple between two slender fingers. Her jaw dropped when she felt his thumb land on her clit, circling hard and fast.

  "God, Harry! Fuck," she could hardly breathe at the efforts her lover was putting in. "Yes! Yes," her praise was quiet, but it fuelled him regardless.

  He was always an attentive lover, but something about his actions were nearly feral. Like he couldn't get enough, no matter how much she gave him. He would always want more of her. More sound, more taste, more feeling. He wanted her to always evade and overwhelm his senses. He moans at her noises, along with the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

  "C'mon, lover. Come so I can put our baby in ya," he breathes against her neck, licking any patches of skin he can reach. Her eyes roll back at his words, crying out for both him and God.

"Tha's it, lover. Good girl," he whispers huskily, slowing the movement of his fingers and moving the other hand to hold her body even more tightly against his. When he can feel her body shuddering, he pulls his fingers from her and sticks them in his mouth, sucking them clean in a filthy way.

  "Please put our baby in me," she requests in a small voice with a smile, tears streaking down her cheeks. She was so overwhelmed by him and by the prospect of what they were doing that she started crying happy tears. His smile is worth everything to her in that moment, pulling his face up for a kiss.

  "Yeah, lover. I'll do that," his voice is tender, like his touch. He kisses her as he lays her body beneath him again, stopping for a moment to take in her form. Her body was so gentle and relaxed after he'd made her feel good, and he couldn't help but kiss her tummy. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her hair was starting to frizz, but she'd never looked better.

  This wasn't by any means the first time they'd had sex without a condom but it was, however, the first time they'd done it without her taking birth control.

The rational part of their minds knew it wouldn't physically feel any better, but they couldn't help the buzz around them at the thought.

   He kisses her neck lightly as he grasps himself, tugging a few times to make sure he was nice and hard for her. He knew he was already rock solid, but he wanted to be extra sure. This was important. When he pushes into her, his eyes roll to the back of his head. She grits her teeth at the feeling of being so full of her lover, digging her nails into his side.

  He pushes the rest of the way in, taking a pause there for a moment. He could tell he was pressed against her in a delicious way from the look on her face. His hips started to create a rhythm they could both enjoy; deep and hard, slow and passionate. They were making love, after all.

  "G'na be the best mum, fuck, I know it," he pants into her ear, leaning his body further into hers. She whines into his hair, lifting her hips off the bed to get closer to him, even if it wasn't possible.

  "You're- oh my god, fuck! You're gonna be the best dad, you already take, oh shit, take such good care of me. Such a good lover,” she can tell her voice sounds fucked out, but hell if she gave a fuck. He squeezes her hand in response, kissing her neck again. He felt himself get hotter at her words. The way their bodies collided could be heard in the thick air around them, filling their ears with beautiful music.

She could hear it in the way he moaned in her ear that he was so close. She was, too, just at the thought of him filling her up with possibly more than just nut. They could get a baby out of this. Her eyes roll back as she practically howled in pleasure.

“Please come, please I wanna feel it,” she begged as she lost her mind, repeating her chant.

“Oh my fuck, yeah, baby. Finish for me first, lover. Good fucking girl,” he praises her, kissing along her collarbones as he fucked her through her orgasm. He was so close he could practically taste it, but he had to say something first.

“I love you, angel. I’m gonna love you forever.” His words are broken up between moans in her ear, making her cry out with him. She was so sensitive that when he let go and shot into her, she came again.

  He could barely move once he was spent, dropping his weight to his elbows and laying on top of her chest, which was moving rapidly along with his own.

  He kisses the skin beneath him as she plays with his hair, both too dazed to say anything.

She’s the first to break their silence when she tells him she loves him too.

“‘M bloody glad you love me too, or else it would be pretty awkward for us to have a baby together.” He mutters sarcastically, not even having the energy to lift his head. It was like she sucked out his soul and he needed 2 to 5 business days to get back to being functional. She’d have to call Jeff and let him know the bad news.

“You’re a dork. But, I wouldn’t choose anyone else to do this with. You helped me through the worst days and showed me what I could be. I owe you everything.” She cards her fingers through his hair, speaking softly.

“I resent that, firstly. But I’m proud I get to be this person for you. You’re everything to me, so you don’t owe me a thing. I’m just happy that you’re getting help for yourself. It’s not an easy thing to do, and I’m proud of you. Extremely fucking proud.” He had turned his head to where his chin was poking at her tummy so he could look at her face.

“I’m happy I took your advice. Outsourcing help doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong. It shows that you can pull yourself up and realise you have a problem, you know?” She tries to explain it, but he knows. He’d been telling her all along. He even went to therapy.

“Yeah, baby. I’m happy you’re here with me.” He says, and she knows he meant here, alive, not just here with him at that moment. She holds onto him a little bit tighter.

“I’ll always be here. I need you too much to go anywhere”

~

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[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - chapter 5

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

CW: mentions of PTSD, mentions of alcoholism and past abuse, mentions of past toxic relationship

Taglist @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon

The thick fog that hovered above the ground made the forest seem like the scenery out of a gothic movie. Not that Alastair minded, he felt at home among the trees, in the darkness. He and Thomas had met after breakfast before Lucie or Cordelia had woken. Alastair had always been an early riser and he was glad to see Thomas was too. More than that, though, Alastair was a poor sleeper. He had frequent nightmares and so far he’d found nothing that helped. Not even his stuffed hedgehog, which he was ashamed to admit he still slept with.

‘Look. Over there,’ Thomas pointed, his finger aimed at the ground.

Alastair followed his gaze and saw a small hedgehog, walking along the shrubs. Hedgehogs were nocturnal creatures, he knew, it wasn’t common to see them during the day, even in early morning. It was adorable.

‘Aw. I love hedgehogs, they are my favorite animals,’ Alastair said with a small smile that was rare these days.

‘They suit you,’ Thomas agreed.

‘How exactly?’ Alastair asked.

‘Well, you’re prickly and need to be handled with care or you’ll sting, but when you can look past that you’re actually adorable.’

Thomas’ cheeks flushed a dark red. ‘What I mean is,’ he began, but Alastair interrupted him with a grin.

‘Adorable, huh?’ he said.

‘I guess so,’ Thomas said. ‘Cordelia told me you still sleep with your stuffed animals. She said your favorite is a hedgehog.’

‘Little traitor,’ Alastair said.

‘I sleep with mine too,’ Thomas admitted. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I have several owls. I just sleep more comfortable that way. I need something to hold on to.’

He was surprised Thomas didn’t judge him. He felt his father would have, had he known, but he’d been too drunk to notice.

Alastair’s smile returned. ‘Now that is adorable. To tell you the truth, I keep mine around to protect me from nightmares.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Does that work?’

‘Not really. But at least holding onto something helps me relax enough to fall asleep.’

He could lie awake at night sometimes. Lately, Alastair was always tired. He did what was expected of him during the day, but he never felt rested or energetic. Even after a long night sleep with minimal nightmares, he woke tired and staying in bed didn’t help.

They talked about all sorts of topics, history, books they read, what Alastair’s first year at university had been like. Thomas told him about previous summers, which they’d usually spent in Spain. He’d spent enough time there to be fluent in Spanish now, partially because his parents had studied there and his father liked to speak Spanish at home. Alastair was surprised how easy conversing with Thomas was. He’d always struggled with making small talk, with keeping the conversation going, but Thomas didn’t shy away from more serious topics and seemed genuinely interested in what Alastair had to say.

He and Thomas continued their walk, and Alastair could tell something was bothering Thomas. He was tense, his shoulders a bit hunched. Alastair had learnt to sense when people were anxious or tense and tended to get nervous himself whenever that happened. He wondered if he’d always been hypersensitive to other people’s moods, or if he’d learnt after having to anticipate his father’s moods and then Charles’ for such a long time. He narrated a description of his surroundings to himself in an attempt to ground him in reality, to calm down enough that he could help and support Thomas. He felt useless, what was the point in being able to read people if their anxiety bothered him so much?

‘Are you alright?’ Alastair asked after a silence.

‘Why do you ask?’ Thomas asked, his voice uneven.

‘Because you seem anxious about something. Is it about me? Are you still mad about what happened at school?’

Alastair had always been more tolerant around Thomas himself, but he’d treated Thomas’ friends awfully. All he felt right now was a horrible guilt and regret for what he’d done. For how he’d justified his actions, telling himself that it was better than being bullied, that what he did wasn’t as bad as what other students had done to him. All empty excuses, and it had never been alright.

‘It’s not about you,’ Thomas said. ‘And I’m not mad. I can’t say I understand why you did it, but I know you were going through some difficult times. Besides, it happened so long ago. James and Matthew are still upset, I think. But they’re not here. I don’t think Matthew would like it much here anyway. He prefers to spend his holidays shopping and drinking at bars until late night.’

Alastair tensed a bit when Thomas’ mentioned Matthew’s drinking the way he always did when alcohol was mentioned. Once he’d been able to take care of his drunk father with little emotion, pushing everything to the bottom until he was sure his father was alright and Cordelia wouldn’t discover he wasn’t ill. Nowadays even mentions of alcohol or drinking tended to make him feel sick, as if an invisible hand was clutching at his stomach, at his heart. Just breathe, he told himself.

‘Oh shit, I’m sorry,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not supposed to mention alcohol around you, am I?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I take it everyone knows, then?’

Alastair still found it difficult when people knew about his disorder. It was difficult to ask for adjustments, to admit a weakness and ask people to not drink in his presence, to ask people to change their own behavior for his sake. He knew most people wouldn’t be willing to do that, and he’d much rather not ask and pretend everything was fine. But eventually he’d had to admit to himself he just couldn’t handle being around people drinking and alcohol was so normalized in Britain it was difficult to avoid sometimes.

‘Not the particulars,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But Mr. Herondale warned us that we shouldn’t drink, nor discuss alcohol when you’re there.’

‘It’s fine,’ Alastair said. ‘As long as I don’t see you drink, or smell it on you, it’s fine.’

People talking about alcohol could be difficult, but he could manage. He would. Matthew Fairchild was across the sea, and him drinking alcohol didn’t harm Alastair. It wasn’t his problem.

‘You don’t seem fine.’

‘It’s not easy, but it’s alright. I can handle mentions of drinking,’ Alastair said.

He hated how some people who knew about his diagnosis had started to walk on eggshells around him, like he was a bomb that would explode the moment someone said something wrong. It made him feel like he was fragile, broken, like there was something horribly wrong with him, when Alastair desperately tried to convince himself that wasn’t true. Deep down, he knew it was true though. He knew there was something wrong with him and that he wasn’t normal and would never be.

‘You don’t have to,’ Thomas said. ‘Look, I don’t think you want to talk about it and you don’t have to. But if you want to talk… I’m here for you, alright? I can promise I am a good listener.’

Alastair nodded. ‘You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you,’ he said in an attempt to deflect.

Alastair took a sip out of the flask of water he’d taken to carrying with him. Ever since starting paroxetine, he often had a dry mouth. He’d also gained some weight. Risa in particular was very happy with that development. Before starting his medication he’d been underweight, often unable to eat because of his nerves. Aunt Risa had worried about his weight loss, and had been very happy when he had started eating again and gotten back at a normal weight.

Apart from that no side effects, and Alastair was mostly glad his medication didn’t cause any sexual dysfunction because he’d heard that happened sometimes. Even if he didn’t have a boyfriend now, he guessed he wanted one someday. He tried to ignore the voice in his head, reminding him that no one would want to be his boyfriend, that he wasn’t worth the effort. Charles had often told him he was difficult to love, that other people wouldn’t bother, and Alastair had believed him. Part of him still did.

The effect taking antidepressants had was only partial, paroxetine on its own wasn’t enough to treat PTSD, but when it came to this specific disorder it was the most effective out of all antidepressants. Alastair had agreed to give it a try. Two months in, it was definitely better than nothing and he had more good days, but he hoped the EMDR treatment he would be starting after the summer was more effective.

‘It’s something that happened yesterday,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’m not sure I should tell you.’

‘You can trust me to keep your secret,’ Alastair promised. ‘But you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’

‘You know your cousin Jem used to fight the evil creatures of the supernatural, right?’ Thomas asked. ‘And your father too, before…’

Before he’d started drinking. People who knew about his father’s past as a hero sometimes said it was the price he’d had to pay, for seeing so many horrors and fighting for so long. Alastair hated it, it made him want to scream. What about the price I had to pay?

It was what had set him off when Jem had come over for dinner, not aware that anything was wrong with him. His cousin had talked about the struggles of life as a hero, the effects it could have on someone. Later, Alastair had learned his mother had become so desperate she’d confessed Elias’ addiction to Jem and had asked him if he could convince him to seek treatment.

Jem had agreed, and had used Elias’ past heroism as a gentle way to bring up the problem, but Alastair had felt as if Jem was trying to justify his father’s addiction and by extension what he’d put his family through. He’d screamed at Jem, at his father, at everyone present really. What about the people surrounding such a person? What about the people who were hurt when a hero’s burden became too much, did they not matter? Horrified at his own outburst, Alastair had ran to his room and attempted to calm himself by putting on Metallica and turning up the volume until he could block everything else out. When Jem had come upstairs, Alastair had expected him to be angry. Instead, Jem had been worried. It was the first time someone had realized his moodiness wasn’t just a “turbulent adolescence”, as his parents had long thought.

‘Yes,’ Alastair said. ‘When I was younger, my father would tell me stories about the creatures he’d fought and defeated.’

Once he’d loved listening to his father’s stories. Once he had sat down in his father’s lap and asked him to tell him about the incubus in Greece, or the kelpie in Scotland. Now he only wondered if his father had been drinking already back then. He wasn’t sure when it had gotten out of hand.

‘Well, I can see them. What I mean is, I have gift that makes it so I can see anything without having to learn at all. My mother and my oldest sister Barbara have the same gift.’

Alastair nodded. ‘So does my aunt Risa,’ he said. ‘She taught me and Cordelia how to see.’

There had been times in his life where he’d felt like Risa was the only person who cared about him. He hadn’t dared tell her about his father’s alcoholism, desperate to keep his family together and in one piece, but she’d been there when he needed her. No one else had done that for him. She used to take him to see the gnomes play in parks, since she didn’t have a garden of her own. She used to cook and bake in her kitchen with him. Risa was a cook in a local Iranian restaurant and had taught him everything she knew about making good food.

‘Yesterday, I walked into the woods and I encountered the washing woman. They say seeing her is an omen of death, although in my case it could just be that she didn’t intend for me to see her, but with my gift I see her anyway.’

‘I’ve heard of such creatures,’ Alastair said. ‘You must not approach or they might attack and paralyze your legs. But if you can sneak up on them, they are said to grant a wish.’

Alastair thought not so long ago he would have given it a try if he’d seen such a woman. He might have asked her to fix his family, or at least fix his father’s alcoholism. Nowadays, he wasn’t sure what he’d ask for. Fixing his father’s alcoholism wouldn’t cure his PTSD, it wouldn’t allow him to love or trust his father again, wouldn’t erase the past years. Perhaps he would ask for a cure for his PTSD, but he didn’t think such a thing existed, he wasn’t sure what exactly the result of such a wish would be. Nor did he know who his father would be without his addiction. He did not think his father would love him sober either. The best he could hope for was that EMDR treatment would help him.

‘Well, I ran,’ Thomas said. ‘But not before it called out to me. Warning me about some unpaid debt from my grandfather who made all sorts of deals with dangerous creatures.’

Alastair had heard plenty of stories like that from his father. There were all kinds of creatures that generally left humanity alone, but could trick people into making deals with them. It usually ended badly, and sometimes required intervention.

Alastair tried to think, was Thomas in danger? He’d always known about the supernatural, of course, but preferred to stay away from it. Cordelia was the one who had been given their father’s magical sword, and although Alastair hated the idea of her living the kind of life Father used to live, it suited her more than it suited Alastair.

‘From what I learnt, deals with supernatural entities often go wrong,’ Alastair said. ‘Is your grandfather still alive?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I never knew him. Apparently he turned into a giant worm and uncle Will, uncle Jem and uncle Gabriel had to kill him. My parents are trying to look into it a bit more, but it’s difficult since my aunt has all his journals, his possessions, and isn’t willing to share. According to my father, his mother died as a result of his dealings, and my cousin Jesse might have too.’

Alastair wasn’t sure what to think. He had heard some vague stories of the Lightwoods and Herondales who used to fight dangerous creatures, but had no idea a relative had made such deals. Of course, he didn’t think his father had been involved in this. His cousin Jem had carried cortana for one of two years before retiring and giving it back to Elias.

‘I think something might be after me,’ Thomas added. ‘I was often sick as a child, and so was Jesse. No one could figure out what was wrong with me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘I don’t remember you being sick often when we went to the same school. You were always there, trailing behind me, I would have noticed if you were absent often.’

‘I grew over my sickness when I was almost fourteen, we met soon after that,’ Thomas said. ‘I always kind of took it for granted, since no one could tell me what was wrong with me I figured it was normal I’d grow over it eventually. But I got better around the same time Jesse died, and then my aunt Tatiana, Jesse’s mother, came by our house and yelled at my parents that it should have been me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘And you think that means that your cousin dying had to do with your grandfather’s debt?’

‘My aunt believed it, at least.’

‘But what does that have to do with you getting better?’ Alastair asked, not sure if he could make sense of that theory.

‘Well, both Jesse and I were sick. I didn’t know him well, Tatiana kept him away from us, but he did know Lucie and she told me his symptoms were almost exactly the same as mine.’

‘And it’s not a genetic disorder?’ Alastair asked.

‘No one else in the family was sick, just me and Jesse,’ Thomas continued. ‘I got tested for pretty much everything they could think of, all negative. They couldn’t find out what was wrong with Jesse either. My grandmother already died as payment for what my grandfather did. So it’s not that farfetched that Benedict owed them a grandchild or something and they had to choose between me and Jesse. Except Jesse’s death wasn’t enough, and now some creature came to warn me I’m next.’ Thomas looked resigned. ‘I think I’m going to die.’

Alastair took Thomas’ hand, hoping that would not be too forward. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he said. ‘I have never heard of debts being passed on to next generations, or going on for so long. From what I’ve been told, it usually ends when the person who made the deal dies.’

‘Not in this case,’ Thomas said. ‘Jesse got lost in the woods where he lived and died. People searched, but no one could find him until he was already dead.’

Alastair could tell Thomas was getting more and more anxious and Alastair wasn’t sure how to help him. He couldn’t say for sure that was Thomas was saying was wrong, even if he still tried to think of more mundane explanations for what was happening.

‘But getting lost in the woods is not supernatural, is it? If we strayed off the path here, it could be a while until we found our way out.’

‘Yes, but the woods where he got lost weren’t big like here. Realistically, they should have found him much sooner. That’s weird, unless there was magic involved. It wasn’t particularly cold either, it happened during spring.’

Alastair had to admit that was odd. Not all forests were big enough to get lost in and die. Even here, he suspected if they didn’t make it back, people would raise alarm soon enough and find them long before they could die of natural causes. Of course, their chances of surviving a couple of days might be better than those of a twelve year old boy.

‘Could the entity that claimed Jesse’s life have picked him over you because you have the sight?’ Alastair speculated. ‘That’s something you inherited from your mother, isn’t it? Jesse didn’t have that.’

‘It is,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘No one in my father’s family has it. It feels kind of awful, doesn’t it? That I lived and got better because Jesse died?’

‘That’s just speculation,’ Alastair said sharply. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over things we can’t prove. But there is something we could do to gather more information.’

‘Beyond convincing my aunt to give us those journals?’ Thomas asked.

‘So, I haven’t done this with someone else in a very long time. Perhaps it’s best I show you.’

Alastair chose a neutral memory. He had considered a happy one, but he didn’t think he’d be comfortable sharing any of that with Thomas, not yet. Besides, he didn’t have many happy memories. It had to be nice, with his ability, to have infinite happy memories he could revisit at any time. Instead, Alastair mainly got caught in the bad ones. He picked a memory from a lecture on the history of socialism. Alastair remembered being horrified at some of the comments other students had made, only later had he realized Charles probably agreed with them. But that wasn’t the point right now. Instead, he showed Thomas a bit of the start of the lecture. The professor was animated, talking about the subject like it was the most interesting thing ever.

‘Was this at university?’ Thomas asked when they were back in the woods. ‘What did you just do?’

‘I showed you a memory of mine. Not a particularly interesting one, but it gets the point across. I can revisit any of my memories.’

‘That must make it easy to study for exams,’ Thomas said, but it wasn’t accusatory. Alastair sometimes felt like using his ability was cheating, but what was the point of having a magic memory if you didn’t even use it?

‘I do need to remember where the information I need is. So if I don’t remember the answer to an exam question, but do remember which lecture it was discussed, or which book, I can go back there. Fortunately, I am also good at studying and usually know where to look.’

Alastair had a whole library inside his head. At home, he kept a list of every book he ever read to organize it.

‘But how will that help?’ Thomas asked. ‘Is there anything you remember?’

Alastair’s dark eyes gleamed. ‘No, not related to what’s happening to you. But you have your memories. Perhaps your parents remember things, details they didn’t think were important at the time. I can help you rewatch your own memories, help you recall things you might have forgotten. It is something that I do not usually do, as it feels rather invasive. But if it helps save your life, I’m willing to give it a try.’

Thomas nodded. ‘Yes, of course. You can look in my memories all you like if that’ll save me.’

[ibijau]

Futures past pt5 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang chats with Su She, and gets reminded of his mission

"I swear, if that shixiong of yours doesn't stop sneering like that every time he sees you, I'm stealing you," Nie Huaisang grumbled as they walked away from the training grounds. “And then da-ge will be happy to have another hard working disciple, and you will be happy to never deal with those stuck up idiots, and I will be happy to have a friend at home!”

Su She rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his lips that pleased Nie Huaisang. He’d figured out pretty quickly that Su She liked being praised, reacting to it like a man lost in the desert who'd found an oasis. It was funny, and a little cute, and Nie Huaisang was only too happy to build up his new friend’s self esteem. When Su She was in a good mood, he was a little more willing to help Nie Huaisang with his homework, at least some of the time. He refused to actually do the work for Nie Huaisang, which was a shame, but just getting help was already something.

And it was help that Nie Huaisang desperately needed.

As weeks passed, it had become quite obvious that he was horrifyingly bad at studying, his grade plummeting down with each new test and surprise quiz. At least he could somewhat manage his homework if Su She or Lan Xichen were helping him, but… but he kept being punished because of his bad grades, meaning he ended up with very little time to spend with either of them. When he went to Lan Xichen’s house, he usually did some homework because that was easier than making conversation, but it didn’t happen that often. As for Su She… well, there were more fun things they could do together, and Nie Huaisang would fail his classes no matter what, so why waste time on something as stupid as homework now it was all obviously in vain?

“What’s the plan today?” Nie Huaisang asked.

"My mother sent me some treats from home and I don't mind sharing," Su She announced. "She figured I'd be sad, since I'm not able to go back for Qingming this year either. The teachers say my attitude isn't good enough yet, and going home might ruin all my progress." 

"They're all too hard on you, I swear." 

Su She shrugged. He was used to this. From what Nie Huaisang understood, most outer disciples were treated quite harshly until they proved they could be trusted to follow the rules. It might not have been so bad if Su She had been more the side to bend his neck and obey everything like some of the others, but he really had too much pride for a disciple of Gusu Lan. Still, being away from home for Qingming was harsh. 

Of course, Nie Huaisang too was stuck in the Cloud Recesses. In his case, that was because the trip would have been too long when he couldn't fly on his sabre, and Lan Qiren had warned Nie Mingjue that it would be bad for his brother to miss any classes due to that. The other Nie disciples had no such problem though, so they'd left and he was currently all alone in the cabin they shared.

Nie Huaisang didn't mind. A little quiet was nice. 

“Let’s go to my cabin to have some tea,” Nie Huaisang offered. “We can eat what your mother sent, and I should also still have some sweets, and I don’t mind sharing if it’s with you.”

It was, actually, almost the last of the candies he’d brought from home, and he hadn’t been able to get more. Students were allowed days off to visit the nearby town sometimes, but Nie Huaisang had been denied that privilege on account of his grades. He had thought of going anyway, but so far his fear of Lan Qiren still outweighed his desperate need for something fun. If Su She had been willing to come with him, perhaps… but Su She wasn’t exactly in a great position either, and didn’t want to make his situation worse by purposefully breaking rules, so they were both stuck inside the Cloud Recesses, the most beautiful prison in the world.

But it was a prison with decent company, and Su She agreed to that offer for tea. With just the two of them, they were able to get quite cozy in the Nie cabin. They dropped on the floor all the blankets in the cabin so they could sit in decadent comfort, at least by Cloud Recesses' standards. Half sprawled by the table, they drank the best tea Nie Huaisang had to offer at that moment (he promised, not for the first time, that one day he’d invite Su She to visit the Unclean Realm where he had access to much better leaves), traded treats much sweeter and tastier than anything usually available to eat away from home, and chatted quite freely, knowing there was nobody around to scold them if they got too gossipy. 

Su She, who tried so hard to never say anything bad about his fellow disciples where someone might here, ended up spitting a lot of venom on all those other Lan juniors, sparring neither inner nor outer disciples and denouncing their treatment of him as unfair.

“After all,” he spat, “I’m a much better musician than Han Mingzhe and Bao Tong, and my swordsmanship is at least as good as Li Xiaoping, but they don’t get scolded as much. But Bao Tong and Li Xiaoping have parents who are rogue cultivators, and Han Mingzhe’s parents are farmers which is at least honourable, while my father is a merchant, and a rich one at that. Everyone says I just bought my way into cultivation!”

Nie Huaisang frowned, looking down at his currently empty cup. This, he thought, would have been a conversation better accompanied by some wine. Complaining while drinking tea just wasn’t as fun.

“It’s stupid,” he said. “I mean, sure you can buy pills and all, but that wouldn’t take you very far with Gusu Lan’s style, that’s more of a Jin thing.”

Immediately, Su She hunched up his shoulders and looked down, a spot of colour on his cheeks.

“Actually my father tried to get me into Lanling Jin at first,” Su She muttered, sounding ashamed of the confession. “But they didn’t want me because I didn’t know anything about using a sword and they said I was already too old to be taught. Then we tried Gusu Lan, because we’d heard they use music, and I’m good at that. They also said I was a bit old, but they still took me in because they said I might catch up if I worked hard enough. But some of the other juniors still heard about me trying for Lanling Jin, and they’re convinced I must have cheated somehow, and… Well, a merchant’s son, no way I can have gotten here on my own merit, eh? Merchants are all dishonest, right?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced, because he could just imagine the sort of things that Su She might have been accused of. Even his brother’s sect, which tried to reward merit and talent above all else, wasn’t always kind to anyone coming from a merchant’s family. It was a profession with money, but that didn't count all that much when the way they'd gotten that money was through the work of others, not like farmers or scholars who put such high efforts into their respective crafts. Of course, being descended from butchers, the Nie couldn’t exactly look down on others for their origins, and yet…

“Have you told the seniors about this?” he asked Su She.

His friend shrugged and scoffed.

“What for? Most of them agree, or they wouldn’t be so hard on me.”

“Then… what if I told Lan Xichen?” Nie Huaisang offered. “If he says something in your favour, then everyone else will have to be nice to you!”

“Lan gongzi despises me,” Su She muttered. “Sometimes I cross paths with him, and he looks at me like I’m lower than dirt. With everyone else he’s nice, but me… it’s like he hates me, personally. And it’s worse when I’m with you.”

Nie Huaisang's enthusiasm deflated at the reminder.

At least, this confirmed it wasn’t just his imagination. He also thought he had noticed that Lan Xichen appeared to harbour some kind of personal dislike toward Su She, but he couldn’t understand why. By all accounts, Su She had always managed to be perfectly polite around the sect leader’s sons, and while his personality wasn’t the most Lan-like, Nie Huaisang knew his friend had never done anything that cast shame upon his sect. It might have been about Su She’s origins then, but somehow that didn’t sound right either.

Lan Xichen was a little boring, but he put great value on his sect’s rules, and those rules said clearly that people should be judged by their actions, not their origins. Nie Huaisang had copied those damn rules often enough to know that. It really was so odd for Lan Xichen to react like this to Su She, and that made Nie Huaisang want to understand why. Everything else about Lan Xichen was so boring, but this detail made him feel like there might be some personality in the older boy after all.

“I could still ask him to do something,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “He can look the other way if nobody tells him, but I’m a young master of a sect too. I'm not very good at being one, but when I say something, he still had to listen. And if I tell him his father’s disciples are little shits, he’ll have to do something, or all of Gusu Lan will lose face.”

Su She’s expression only turned darker. “It will just make everyone hate me more, even the ones who didn’t care before. Please don’t say anything. I’m just going to work harder, and prove everyone wrong, and when I’m good enough I’ll…” he pinched his lips and dropped his gaze to the table. “They’ll see, they’ll all see. When I’m good enough, I’ll show them all, and everyone will regret that they didn’t respect me.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, and even patted Su She on the shoulder, feeling quite sorry for him. He’d never thought about it before, but the way things were was a little unfair. Su She was so hard working and getting results for his effort, but people treated him like dirt, while Nie Huaisang couldn’t be bothered with anything and would have failed even if he tried, but everyone still felt forced to treat him with a minimum of respect because of his brother.

It really wasn’t fair at all, but all Nie Huaisang could do was stand by Su She and make it clear he saw his friend’s talent, even if everybody else was too damn stupid to notice him.

Nie Huaisang couldn't do anything to help, but he made sure to give Su She the last of his candies, and hoped that counted for something.

-

It was always too damn quiet in the Cloud Recesses at night, and Nie Huaisang struggled to get used to it. Back home, there was always the noise of something happening somewhere. Disciples who'd decided to continue training after sunset, those on watch duty doing their rounds, servants going about their business... it was a constant reminder that people were around and the world was safe.

In the Cloud Recesses, there was nothing. If not for the snoring coming from one of his companions, Nie Huaisang might as well have been alone in the world.

Nobody was snoring that night. He was alone, and would be for at least two more, until the others returned from seeing their families and honouring their ancestors.

It was annoying enough to be stuck in this lonely quiet place in daylight, when he could at least see people, when he’d been able to pester Su She and feel less alone. Only Su She had long returned to the dorms he shared with other Lan disciples, and Nie Huaisang was alone in this deafening silence.

That was why he couldn’t sleep.

That was why he heard those footsteps coming near his bed, when there shouldn’t have been anyone else in that lonely cabin. It couldn’t be a demon or a ghost, not in the Cloud Recesses, which should have been a comfort. Once, before his father went mad, it would have been.

There were things against which no magical barrier could offer protection.

The footsteps came to a stop near the bed. Nie Huaisang silently shivered under his blanket, biting into his fist to avoid making any sound. If he was quiet, if he pretended not to be there, things would be fine. It had worked whenever his father went into a rage. Back then, as long as Nie Huaisang didn't move, his father seemed not to see him, a trick he'd figured out very quickly and shared with Nie Mingjue.

Maybe it would work here too.

Or maybe not.

Nie Huaisang felt a hand grab his blanket, and all coherent thoughts left him. He shrieked in terror as he leapt out of his bed, nearly falling face first onto the floor but caught at the last moment by strong, slender hands.

“What are you crying like that for?” he heard a strange yet familiar voice huff. “Do you really think anyone would dare attack you here? It’s only me.”

Blinking away a few tears, Nie Huaisang scrambled to stand up while his future self watched him with an unimpressed expression.

“Sorry,” Nie Huaisang muttered, trying to put some order to his night clothes. “I get scared at night sometimes. Well, you’d know. Do… Does it get better?”

“No,” the older man bearing his face said, opening his fan. It was a different one from last time, but just as gorgeous. “It gets worse. I don’t sleep much these days. Haven’t in years. It’s a waste of time anyway.”

Nie Huaisang, who often thought that sleeping was the best part of his day, as long as he didn’t start panicking over nothing, didn’t know what to answer to that. He had a feeling his opinion on the matter wasn’t required anyway.

“So, uh, aside from sleeping, how have you been?” he awkwardly asked. “Anything interesting happened to you? How does time even pass for you? Did you also have to wait for several months, or is it just after the last time we talked for you?”

His future self glared and sharply closed his fan, making Nie Huaisang jump and effectively silencing him.

"How is Lan Xichen?” the man asked. “Have you made progress with him yet?" 

"We've talked here and there, but he's always so busy," Nie Huaisang muttered, wringing his hands. “It's really hard to chat with him, you know. And he’s got such boring hobbies, too.”

Not music and painting, those were valid ways to pass time, in Nie Huaisang’s opinion. And sometimes, serious people couldn’t avoid doing some amount of work, so he didn't even begrudge Lan Xichen that either.

But Nie Huaisang hadn’t taken long to realise that whenever they were spending time together, Lan Xichen wasn’t actually doing any sect work. After all, Nie Mingjue had tried to force his little brother to help with those things, so he knew what that looked like. And it wasn't calligraphy either that occupied the older boy, because Nie Huaisang loved that and would have struck a conversation about it if given a chance.

Instead, Lan Xichen had made a hobby of copying books and treaties.

Nie Huaisang had asked, once or twice, if Lan Xichen was trying to learn those texts by heart. The older boy had very awkwardly agreed that he was indeed doing just that, but he hadn’t sounded very convinced. He really was such a poor liar. Lan Xichen was going to be awful at politics if he didn’t learn how to conceal his thoughts. Then again, he wasn’t always like that, was he? With most people he was placid and radiating a sort of empty warmth. It was just around Nie Huaisang that he would get weird, and maybe around Su She as well, as if his disdain was just too great to be contained.

Just as Nie Huaisang was about to ask his older self if he’d ever found out what he and his friend had done to Lan Xichen to be so disliked by him, the man grabbed him by the collar and shook him.

"I thought I'd told you this was essential," his older self hissed, sounding too much like Nie Huaisang's father all of a sudden. "And you’re still only thinking about having fun! Do you want da-ge to die?" 

"Of course not!" 

"Then get serious about this,” the man ordered, shaking his young self once more before pushing him away with enough force that Nie Huaisang stumbled and nearly fell. “You have to earn Lan Xichen's trust, or he will choose the wrong friend, idiot that he is."

"Well, can't you give me hints?” Nie Huaisang mumbled in a trembling voice, trying again to straighten his clothes in spite of shaking hands. “You've got to know more about him than I do, can't you tell me how I'm supposed to get close to him?" 

This, of course, earned him another disdainful glare.

"I don't remember the boy he was," his future self said, "and the man he became was never worth my attention. Figure this out on your own, and be useful for once."

It struck Nie Huaisang as very unfair that his future self was allowed to not have anything to do with Lan Xichen, but wouldn't extend the same kindness to him. It also worried him that the man before him disliked Lan Xichen so much. Nie Huaisang just found the older boy a little boring, but he didn't have any particularly strong opinion about him. 

“You can’t do that!” he complained, clenching his fists. “You can’t… I’ve got to be told things! And if you can’t tell me about how to get close to Lan Xichen, then… then at least tell my why it’s important, and why… how does da-ge die, anyway?”

“Murdered, I’ve told you that already.”

Nie Huaisang stumped his foot. “There’s so many ways to murder someone, that doesn’t narrow it down at all! Tell me how, and tell me who…” He trailed off, a horrible suspicion hitting him. “Did… did Lan Xichen…”

Just thinking of it, Nie Huaisang felt a little faint and had to stumble against the closest wall, just to get some support. Whatever he thought of Lan Xichen, that was still his brother’s closest friend, Nie Mingjue's only friend. And besides, Lan Xichen didn’t strike him as a murderer. People changed, certainly, but how could a person have changed that much?

And yet his own future self, standing before him, was proof that such a complete transformation was possible. Nie Huaisang really didn’t see anything of himself in that man, nothing except his aged up face and perhaps a taste for fashion.

“Lan Xichen is too much of a coward,” his older self proclaimed, mouth twisting in disgust. “But he helped the murderer, willingly or not, and sided with him so many times that I’ve never dared come to him with the truth. I wasn’t sure he’d trust me, even with proof. I still have my opinion on that, whatever some others think he'd have done. But you…” he waved his closed fan toward Nie Huaisang. “You might change that. Da-ge’s opinion alone wasn’t enough, but Lan Xichen has no will of his own, he’ll be easily swayed if two people he trusts are denouncing the true nature of the man he protects. That’s all I feel safe telling you at the moment. I don’t trust you not to mess things up if you know too much. You only learned too late to keep your mouth shut.”

It still sounded odd to Nie Huaisang that Lan Xichen could ever side against Nie Mingjue. Not long ago, he would have called his older self a liar, because Lan Xichen was boring but honest and just. Now though, having seen how Lan Xichen looked at Su She who had never done him any wrong… maybe it was possible that Lan Xichen would turn into a bad man, since he was clearly capable of being unjust after all.

“I’ll work harder to get close to him,” Nie Huaisang promised, pushing himself away from the wall now that he felt steadier again. “I really will. Maybe I can ask him to help with lessons a little more… I really need it, if I want to pass.”

“You’re not going to pass,” his older self announced. “It’s fine. Da-ge will send you here again, and you’ll meet some useful allies.”

At the news, Nie Huaisang let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. Having to come back in this boring place for another year sounded like torture, even with Su She for company. And then, meeting more people his future self wanted him to befriend… weren’t these people going to be just as boring as Lan Xichen?

While Nie Huaisang despaired, his adult self turned to check on something only he could see, and huffed.

“I’m running out of time. Fine, let’s be quick. Did you bring with you the information I gave you last time about Meng Yao?”

“Yes, I have it.”

Nie Huaisang took a step toward the place he’d stored his qiankun pouch, but his older self stopped him with a gesture.

“That Night Hunt in Yunping should happen fairly soon now. You have to go,” the older man ordered. “One way or another, you have to go. I don’t know when else we’d have such a chance to alter Meng Yao’s fate, and it is vital that he doesn’t enter Lanling Jin. Do whatever you must do, take whatever risk you must take, but make sure Meng Yao cannot join the Jin.”

Nie Huaisang obediently nodded, half spooked by the edge in his older self’s voice whenever he said that Meng Yao’s voice. Hating someone was just too much effort in his opinion, but apparently he’d grow to hate that Meng Yao person. But if that person was fated to play a part in Nie Mingjue’s death… in that case, and that case alone, Nie Huaisang could imagine he’d maybe become enraged enough to do something about it.

“I’ll do my best,” Nie Huaisang promised, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually kill anyone. Murder was messy, and Nie Mingjue would be cross, even if it was to save his life.

“I know what your best is,” his older self snapped. “You’ll have to do better than that. Take care of Meng Yao, get in Lan Xichen’s good graces, and then… then we’ll see,” he mused. “Depending on how well you do that, there might still be a few loose threads to cut. Xue Yang and Su She didn’t need the Jin to make trouble, we might do everyone a service and…”

“What about Su She?” Nie Huaisang cried out, grasping the older man’s wrists.

He was roughly pushed away, and earned a nasty glare for his outburst.

“Don’t mind that yet,” his older self said, straightening his sleeves. “All that matters for now is Meng Yao and Lan Xichen. Focus on them, I’ll explain the rest when the time comes.”

“But that’s…”

“I’ll return in a few months. You’d better have good news for me next time.”

Nie Huaisang launched himself at the older man, wanting to grab him again and force him to explain why he’d mentioned Su She. His hands found only empty air and he stumbled forward, falling to his knees on the hard wooden floor. It hurt, and might even bruise later, but Nie Huaisang didn’t even think to rub them or cry.

He knelt there far too long in that lonely cabin, and wondered what might happen in the future that would cause him to treat Su She as an enemy.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Red² | Jason Todd

✦ pairing — Jason Todd x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.2k

✦ request — can I request something with jason×reader where she has powers similar to (mcu) scarlet witch but she never brought it up and then maybe he finds out about it one day

✦ warnings — mentions of violence, mentions of food, Jason has a sweet tooth, fluff

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You made him stand behind you, blocking his way into the farthest room in the warehouse. Jason puffed out air, eager to get it over with. Tilting your head, you lifted your hand at an angle.

Red strands erupted from the tips of your fingers, glowing beneath Jason’s eyes.

“They’re not here.” Jason heard your voice in his head. Frowning, he opened his mouth but you pressed, “Find a way to tell the others to get to The Narrows. And get ready to fight.”

That wasn’t the last time he saw the glowing matter. It, whatever that was, came quite handy in combat. You moved quicker, with a confidence he had never seen on you.

Your powers saved you both from dying that night and your allies from falling into a trap.

That should have been enough, yet you could almost hear Jason’s mind reeling with questions.

He stood beside you this time, arms tightly crossed against the grey t-shirt he wore as a pajama. “Are you going to explain what was that?”

You stayed silent, drying your hair after having taken a long shower. Sure he would ask, you had taken your sweet time under the water, trying to find excuses.

He wasn’t meant to find out like that, you had used your powers without thinking. They were a reflex, part of your muscle memory, an astonishing progress after years of self-hatred and insecurities.

Jason and you were never paired up for anything, he usually kept close to his brothers or his friends and you were always part of Donna’s team. If big things happened, everyone fought together. You had been careful around him and his family, but the last time you had fought together had been months ago and you were getting more comfortable with your powers and the things you could accomplish thanks to them.

You should’ve known better, both in terms of telling him the truth and in terms of controlling your impulses. Useful impulses to take advantage of your powers, but impulses nonetheless.

“You can read minds and you never told me!”

“I have never read yours if that’s what worries you.”

Jason scoffed. He hadn’t considered that you could have done it to him. That was how shocked he was. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Shrugging, you walked past him to get yourself a cup of tea.

He followed you toward the kitchen, bare feet paddling against the floor as he stomped.

The night was too hot for drinking tea, yet there you were, boiling water instead of confronting your boyfriend.

Tension filled the small apartment. You could feel his heavy stare on the back of your head as you went through the drawer to find the perfect herb.

“I don’t like talking about it,” you explained. He had never pushed you to do things you didn’t feel comfortable with, there was no way this could be different.

“I don’t need a rundown. I just want to know why.”

“Because I don’t like talking about it, Jason.”

Harsh enunciations of his name hadn’t bothered him in years. The worst thing was the explanation, if he could call it that. Trust and openness were the backbones of your relationship, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel betrayed.

He wanted to know more. If the powers hurt, if you had been born with them, how long had it taken you to master them... Jason didn’t like secrets, he kept a lot already.

“Were you born with them?”

You opened the cupboard, clenching your jaw. His intentions might have been good, but you had thought you made yourself clear. “They just appeared,” you rasped, “one day I woke up and I had them. No one knows exactly what triggered them.”

“Do the red things hurt you?”

You shook your head, reaching for your favorite mug. “The blasts usually only bring pain to others,” you sighed out, ashamed.

“What do you mean?”

Turning the hob off, realizing now you really would need that tea, you picked the kettle and poured hot water into the mug. You had never explained the nature of your powers to anyone, and the people who knew the pain they could cause weren’t here to talk. How does one explain that to their partner?

“I’ve lost control before.” The mumble was barely audible. You lifted the mug, taking a gulp of the scorching hot tea. A question crossed Jason’s eyes — God, you loved knowing him so well. “Just ask. I’m already talking, aren’t I?”

“Do they hurt you when you lose control?”

You hummed in thought. It was more complicated than that, you didn’t understand it fully yet. “Not physically.”

Jason didn’t say anything else for a while. You didn’t want him to either, you weren’t in the search for pity nor coddling. He wouldn’t judge you, that was a given, but his silence was preferred in a moment you hadn’t planned to be part of.

“They’re cool...” he trailed off, unsure. “But you should’ve told me.”

There were things you could’ve done less clumsily, telling him about your powers was one of them. People feared them, your parents hadn’t taken the news well. You didn’t want him to leave too. You feared what your powers did, to people you hated, to people you loved — to you.

Jason closed the space between you, crushing you against the finger as he picked your mug. After taking a sip of tea, he made a face. “That needs sugar.”

Rolling your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Are you mad?”

“No.” Clearing his throat, hoping the bitter taste of the tea would quit burning, Jason continued speaking, “I assumed you didn’t trust me and I want you to do it like I trust you.”

“Babe,” you sighed, “you are not the problem.”

Nodding, he placed a hand on your neck, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “And you’re not a problem, don’t say it like that.”

Such a nice thing to hear from the person you love. If you were in a self-deprecating mood you would say you didn’t deserve it, but you weren’t. Hiding things from Jason was hard and draining. Turns out everything would have been fine if you had told him from the beginning.

Jason wrapped his other arm around you while his hand withdrew from your face. You felt him open one of the cupboards behind you. Grunting, he battled with a box for a few seconds before finally being able to take a few cookies out.

He offered you a cookie. You shook your head. He insisted. “Please?”

“I’m not hungry. You eat them.”

“Half a cookie at least?”

Kinking an eyebrow, you asked, “What for?”

“I want to kiss you but I have to taste that disgusting tea again, I will punch a wall.”

“You are such a baby,” you playfully teased him, moving the cookie he was offering closer to your mouth with your mind.

His eyebrows shot upward. Yup, your powers were the coolest thing ever. Jason smiled when you bit into the snack, opening his mouth when you tried to give him the now bitten cookie back.

You slowly feed him the cookie, this time taking it in your hand, hoping you wouldn’t laugh and choke. His teeth grazed your finger teasingly, eyes daring you to do anything.

He munched the cookie quickly, swallowing twice to make sure. Putting the other two cookies on the clean counter behind you, he shook the crumbs off his fingers as he leaned forward.

And so you kissed him before he could continue teasing you, smiling against his lips when he whined.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

PROMPT

Happy Lowman x Tig Trager daughter!Reader

@forest-rav3n​ asked: 32 and 40 smut with Happy pretty please

Prompts:

32. Bring that pretty ass over here.

40. What if I put chocolate on you?

Word count: 3.2k

WARNINGS: NSFW and smut and Happy being the daddiest

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @CHIBSYTELFORD 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. The gif isn’t mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114​ @chibsytelford​ @dazzledamazon​ @mara-mpou​ @sammskellington​ @gemini0410​ @1-800-imagines​ @briana-mishell24​ @trulysuccubus​💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“HAPPEEEEEEEEW”

“Shit...”

It's too cold outside of the bar that your skin bristles, but you actually can't feel it because of the alcohol running through your blood. It's another friday night in which you end up so drunk you can't even talk properly. Having a puff of your cigar, you let the smoke go out by your nose. You're tired and all you want is a warm bed to die. But you also know that your father would kick your pretty ass, if he find you in that mood. So, Happy is the one who always takes care of you. And, by the way you have to call him, he knows how much you drunk.

You know that he is sitting right now on his sofa, waiting for your call and praying like never before, till de phone rings. And you know he's rubbing his face with a hand, splitting a snort and shaking his head. You know him well. He's not a man who is always talking, nor commenting. He speaks through his gestures, you've been studying him over the years.

“I'm co—cold. Can you come?”. You say after some seconds in silence.

“I hate Fridays”.

“But I kno—know you love Satu—Saturdays”. You say chattering teeth, trying not to laugh before he hangs up the call.

You text your friends, inside the bar yet, to tell them that you're leaving. Probably they'll continue the party till dawn, but you have had a long week. Some beer and some shots have been enough for you. When you feel how everything starts to turn around your position, you decide to rest your back against the facade. You can see some men whispering about you, believing that they have found an easy prey. Bikers, no MC. Maybe nomads that they're passing, so they probably don't know who you are.

Happy's bike roars enraged, just in time,  stopping next to you. The man gets up without looking at you, but the other bikers, offering you your own SAMCRO jacket. Warm and comfy. Throwing the cigar away, you turn to them. Now they know you're part of the club, but not in a ‘bitch’ way, but in a ‘family’ one. Charmin running through your veins. You show them your middle finger and also your tongue in a clear derision, before sitting up behind Happy. Helmet on, he starts the engine.

You don't need to do it, but your arms are surrounding his abdomen, with your left cheek resting on his back. Fresh air feels good now that you find yourself better with your hoodie, on your way back home. Happy drives without hurry, taking his time 'cause he truly loves having you by his back, riddin' by night as if the world were his, and yours too. You could call whoever you want. Even Chibs would leave anything he could be doing, to take you home. Or Juice, who is your best friend and partner in crime since ever. But you feel secure with Happy, and he's the only one that doesn't reproach you if you drunk too much, or if you should stop doing it.

You could swear that you fall asleep, at least, some minutes on the road till you two arrive to his house. Parking the bike in the yard next to the garage, Happy helps you to get off of the bike. You feel somewhat better, but still feel the dizziness stir your stomach. The man places an arm in your waist, holding one of your hands with his free over his shoulders, walking inside the small house to take you to the bed. The next mission it's find a shirt and change your clothes. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he bends down in front of you leaving a shirt by your side. First, he takes off your sneakers, getting you up with your hands on his shoulders to lift up the tight black dress keeping your gaze a little upset.

“Happew”.

“What?”

“I wanna lose my virginity with you”. Whispering as if it was a secret, he rolls his eyes.

“Don' start with your foolishness”.

“I'm serious... I trust you to do i...”

Before you can say anything, he holds you between his arms, forcing you to walk towards the bathroom turning on the lights. You don't know what the hell is going on, till he opens the shower faucet, pushing you into it without prior notice. Your yells and curses flood the house, while you fight to get out of the cold water falling all over your body. You want to kill him, 'cause you know he's enjoying it.

Closing the faucet, he offers you a towel, holding it shivering with cold, he gives you a petty smile before turning to bring you the shirt.

“I'll be at the sofa, sleep in my bed, love. I'm gonna text Tig to tell him you're here”.

A heavy sigh escapes from your lips, closing your eyes for a second. You're drunk, but you were also talking serious. Your father is so different, he doesn't care about sex as something special. He could fuck whoever he has in front of him. He doesn't care about the age, about the nationality, about the body... Sometimes you think he needs help. But you're on your twenties and, even if you don't feel ashamed, you wanted to find someone appropriate to have your first time. And you know that Happy is the best option. So, you're gonna try the next morning.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

The smell of hot coffee and french toasts wakes you up. But the hangover keeps you in bed for some seconds. You roll under the sheets, sinking your nose on the pillow. Yes, you love that smell too. Barefoot and with your hair made a mess, you walk slowly dragging the feet on the floor. You cough for a moment, knowing that maybe you smoke too much last night, and feeling dry your throat. Water. You could kill wildly for a bottle of water. Opie jumps off of the couch when he sees you, moving his tail, to leave some dearly licks on your legs till you pat his head softly.

“Mornin'”. Happy says, serving the last dish on the table.

You can't say nothing. Absolutely nothing. Now you're ashamed. So you sit on a chair in front of him, having a sip of your mug with a gasp. It feels like you're recovering life with that drink. Stretching your right hand, you take a toast with some chocolate on it, giving it a big bite. You're hungry and you can't help but eat it faster than you should.

Happy is judging you, in silence, as he always does. With his elbows nailed on the table and his coffee between his hands, he's staring at you over the edge of his mug. You're not looking at him, but you know he's trying to figure out if you remember something about last night.

“I was talking serious”. At the exact moment your words go out, he spits the coffee he was drinking to some point above the floor.

“You have the same mental illness as your father. Is it hereditary, some Trager family shit?”

Rolling your eyes, you lie your back on the chair.

“I wanna do it with someone I trust in”.

“Ask Juice”.

“I don' wan' someone who's gonna cry while he's fucking me, 'cause I chose him to lose my virginity”. You're indignant, pissed off and talking so fast, that those facts provokes Happy's laugh. 

“I'm not going to do it, (Y/N)”. He sentences, even if you know he's not sure about what he's doing. You can see it in the way he stretches his ring finger for a second.

“C'mon, Happy! Why not?”

“'Cause you're a kid, and your father's gonna kill me”.

“He fucks chicks younger than me”.

Good point. He nods with pursed lips, because you're right and any other arguments will be invalidated. But he also shakes his head again.

“Your father is sick and needs help, I'm not and I don't. You can't even get me hard”.

Has it sounded like a challenge? You raise an eyebrow. Happy is remembering that he should watch his words, before saying any other stupidity. You drag your chair back, with your hands supported against the table. He knows he's fucked. With narrowed eyes, you walk towards him, so slow like a lion studying his prey. Your left hand touring the board wood. He swallows, putting his gaze away from you, fighting against his desires. 

“Don't”. He says, stopping you by his hand on your abdomen.

But it's not enough, so you ignore him sitting on his lap, facing each other. Happy snorts rubbing his face with both hands, looking for the strength he's losing by big steps. You get comfy above his legs, letting your hands travel from his chest up to his neck.

“Please, don't”. He asks you again, almost supplicating.

“Just one time”. Your lips are so close to his, that you can touch them in a soft caress.

Without him expecting it, you grab one of his hands, guiding it behind your shirt feeling the heat that emanates from your tights. Spreading your legs a little more, his fingers meet your wetness. A slight gasp escapes from his parted lips, with his eyes on yours. You're playing with fire, but never a burn felt so good.

Placing your lips on his in a slow kiss, tasting his mouth, Happy slices his middle finger in your tightness making you moan almost in a whisper.

“Shit, love...” He mutters moving it with soft moves. 

With your hands on his chest, starting a new kiss more needy, you dance your hips against his finger, fucking it to show him that you really want to do it with him.

“You want me to stop?” You ask then between gasps. He can't even talk and you like to play with Happy's mind.

So, you do. Behind his confused gaze, you get up from him with the clear intention of walk back to your chair.

“Bring that pretty ass over here”. He growls grabbing your left wrist pushing you into his lap again, you can't help but laughing at the man. “I can't promise I'll careful”.

“I know”.

“Sit on the table, I wanna taste you”. He demands, and you takes it as a command putting away the dishes and the coffees.

He places your legs on his shoulders, licking his lips while you take of your shirt to throw it and getting naked to his own pleasure. He doesn't need words, seeing how his eyes get darker because of the lust running over your bodies. His tongue toures your entrance, catching between his lips your clit to suck it softly. One of your hands, now on his head presses him to it, growling a moan when you feel how Happy slices two fingers inside you without expecting. This whole thing feels better than you could have imagined.

With his free hand, he pushes you to lie over the table, pinching one of your nipples when he gets you at his mercy. The name of the Son' is stuck in your throat, because of the moves his tongue does sucking and licking your clit and his fingers throwing you faster than it. Arching your back, you fit your legs somewhat better, feeling his saliva filling you.

“Shit, Happy... Fuck me...” You beg squirming on the table.

You know that you said the corrects words, when he gets up of the chair and you're allow to see the huge lump in his pants. You also know that it's gonna hurt, but it's gonna worth it. With a hand on your nape, pulling down your legs till his body is between them, he kisses you filthy. Happy is pretty hard. Happy is hating you so much, 'cause he respect you, but you taste so good. 

Your tongues finally meet inside your mouth and it's the best thing you ever savor. You're desperate for feeling him, putting a hand on his lump, caressing it tightly and provoking some moans on the man. He doesn't want to wait. He wanna makes you enjoy, and this morning it's all about you. But you know that, later, he's gonna lose his mind at all when your lips would being fucked by his cock.

“You want my dick, uh?”

“Yes”. You answer not being capable of break the needy kiss between both.

“Say it”. He demands surrounding your throat with a hand, and using that scratchy voice that makes you shake in a good way.

“I want your dick, Happy... please”. You repeat touching his lips with yours, almost begging him again.

“Good girl”. He smiles softly, before holding you in his arms, to walk towards the bed. If he'll not be careful, at least you're gonna have some comfort.

He lays you there, getting undressed hurriedly, to spread your legs with both hands. At this point, you can't think clearly. You thought that could be more difficult ask him, or that you're insecurities would float in your head. But you want to do it, you're sure, you're convinced, and Happy looks delighted with the idea that you chose him over the rest of the friends you could trust in. Maybe you two will die when your father knows, but again: it's gonna worth it.

The Son' lays on top of you, placing your legs tangled on his, grabbing his cock to  your entrance, rubbing your clit tightly with his reddened glans. He's not going to ask you if you wanna continue, feeling the heat of your wetness calling him. Catching out your breath with the first pound, Happy presses your lips with his, pushing you into the limit. The way his cock has to break through your tightness makes you feel burning and stinging. But he doesn't make a move. He's not the kind of lovely man in sex, at least that's what you heard about him, but you know he's gonna have some patience at first.

So, when you feel that he can continue, you bite his lower lip to give him green light. Pulling back his waist, he pounds you deeper making you moan. You start to feel the pleasure running all over your body with every thrust, faster and harder than the last. Forehead against forehead, your nails scratch his back provoking him more than one growl fill of enjoyment. 

“Shit, love... How can you be like this wet?” He mutters with shaky breath, licking your lips. 

“Fuck me harder, daddy”. You joke on him, surrounding his waist with a leg, to pushing him deeper.

Happy chuckles when he's sure that you feel comfortable, turning your wishes into commands for him. The headboard hits the wall with every blow of his hard dick against you, and his name echoing throughout the room between your gasps and moans. And you can see how proud and triumphant he feels.

With a hand wrapping your throat, forcing you to leave him some space on your neck, the man bites your skin making you arch your back with a heavy sigh in your lips. You know that it's gonna cost you a lot of make up to cover the bruise he's doing, so as not to piss off your father and prevent him from finding out.

“Happy, I wan—wanna cum... don't stop, please... fuck, Happy”. You says as you can with trembling voice, closing your eyes tight.

“Do it, love... Cum for daddy, c'mon...”

His arms wrap your body, pounding you faster with your gasps getting loud, supplicants for more. The Son' keeps your gaze, wanting to see your face when the orgasm runs your back bristling your skin, shaking your legs placed around his hips. Your body hitting the mattress harder.

“Holy fuck, Happy!” 

Sinking your face on his neck, when it takes your breath away, even if he doesn't stop, nor does it slow down each thrust. You're not using a condom, but you don't want him to pull it out and you let him know by turning on the bed, putting yourself on top of him. 

“Good girl... ride me, love... ride me”. Happy squeezes your ass, while your hips dance over him.

With your weight resting on your palms, above his chest, his fingers are nailed on your tights pushing you somewhat deeper till his breathing becomes more constant and restless. You look for his lips, bowing down to him. Happy's hands runs over your back, kissing you desperately, drowning a pleasant growl against your tongue. You feel how he fills you warmly, with your shaky legs nailed on the bed and your moans meeting each other, somewhat lower and exhausted.

“'Am gonna... tell you something”. He whispers caressing the mess your hair is with both hands, pulling it to your back, trying to recover the air that is lacking in the lungs. “If you think that 'am gonna let someone else fuck you, or touch you, or kiss you... You're fucking wrong, love. Because if someone else tries it, I'm gonna bury him alive”.

You know well he's talking serious. Happy doesn't do those kind of ‘warnings’, nor does it say the things you would like to hear. You nod in silence, 'cause you don't have any choice, and you also don't want any other. Wheezing, you fall by his side feeling a little empty, to get comfy lying in the bed. 

“And my father?”

“Tig fucks chicks younger than you”. He repeats your own words, making you laugh before hold you into his arms. “We should take a shower and make an appearance at the club”.

Snorting, you're not even sure if you're allowed to walk.

“What if next time I put some chocolate on you...?” You ask joking, placing a hand behind the pillow, closer to him.

“Tonigh', you mean...?

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Before you can find some words to defend yourselves, your father's right fist goes straight Happy's nose making him wobble. Chibs and Bobby grabbing Tig, while Juice and you tries to help the other.

“Did he force you?! Did he hurt you?!”

“Dad, stop! I asked him!”

The silence floods the Sons' clubhouse, seeing how a strange grin is drawn on your father's face. Juice goes for some ice to bring the ex-nomad, while the older is waiting for an explanation.

“I just... felt that I need to lose it. And I asked Happy, 'cause I trust him. That's all! How the fuck you can think that he... raped me or something like that?”

“Why didn't you ask...? I don' know! The fucking Juice!”

“'Am bloody sure he would cry fuckin' your daughter, fo' choosin' him”. Chibs, the voice of wisdom has talked, helping Happy to get up and grab the ice against his bleeding nose.

“Man!” The aforementioned replies.

“And now what? Do you intend to make it a habit?” Tig can't believe that his best friend fucked his daughter.

“Who cares, Alexander? He takes care of the kid!” The Sons' president palm his shoulders to play down, pushing him to the bar to serve him a drink.

[abduct-me-helen]

Class 108's Apocalypse Field Trip | Chapter 1.

The world ended on a Tuesday. Quite suddenly, halfway through class. After the sky split open and green light bathed the earth, things changed. Some lived.

Some didn’t.

Class 108 stayed together, for the most part. They took up a base in the school, and boarded up the windows and doors.

Sydney was the one who first learned they didn’t need to eat. Other revelations of that sort followed. Sleep was not needed, nor was water. Air seemed to be, though, as they learned after Cal passed out from holding their breath.

The first one to die was Cú.

They don’t talk about Cú.

-

Of course, some things are unavoidable in the end. Logically, Sydney knew it was only a matter of time before something managed to slip under the cracks and they’d all get killed; god knows they’d narrowly scraped by enough times to be considered cosmically lucky. Tabitha had been spreading rumors, as was her nature, about the school itself being sentient, trapping them inside with false promises of safety.

On the worse days, Sydney believed it.

Sydney stepped into the classroom slowly, craning her head to where Tabitha and Rosie were explaining their theories. She didn’t know which theories, but she’d heard most of them by now.

“G’morning.” She said.

It was night.

No, she thought, the sky is dark, but that doesn’t mean it’s night.

Rosie gestures towards a desk, and she avoids the chair toppled over at her feet as she sits down on top of it. She takes not of who else had decided to attend this “session” of theirs today. There are 12 students left out of the thirty who had originally made up the class. Ten of them had disappeared after running away from the school in shock after the eye in the sky had first opened. They hadn’t been in homeroom during the “blink,” which is what they’d taken to call the eye opening, and hadn’t seen any teachers since that day.

She remembered it vividly.

Ms. Bruis had tensed, eyes wide in shock, before telling them to calm down and stay indoors. She immediately went outside the room to check on everyone else.

That was the last time they’d seen Ms. Bruis, but not the last time they’d seen her face.

Besides the initial chaos, there wasn’t anything attacking the school. It was just shouting and screaming and running. Sydney had stayed in the classroom, clumsily trying to close the blinds on the window.

People just, left. And they didn’t come back.

The first venture was when they lost Cú. She doesn’t like to talk about him, never mind think about him. Nonetheless, her mind often drifts towards his death.

It was about four hours after the chaos. People had been nearly sucked out of the building, teachers included. The only ones that remained were the thirty students of 108.

Sydney didn’t know why they were the only ones to remain. She still doesn’t now.

The students decided to have a short party go out and scout. Sydney, Katie, Cú, Tabitha and Rosie. Four survived, one did not.

Rosie was always the thinker of the group, and as such she took the front. Katie was chosen for her seemingly nonchalant disposition to going, and Tabitha for her mind, which was always going too fast and often arriving at far-out conclusions. Despite this, she was a quick-witted person and had been selected for her dexterity and speed. Cú was selected for his physicality. He was a teddy bear, but a strong teddy bear.

It didn’t save him in the end.

And Sydney, well, she was cautious. She wonders if she could’ve saved Cú if she’d been just a little bit wearier.

They wandered a few blocks before hearing the sound of skin and bone splitting. Tabitha immediately ran toward the sound, as was her nature. The rest, Rosie at the lead, followed, hiding behind a corner.

Katie didn’t make a face, but even she was visibly pale.

When the sound came again, louder, and a creature made of wet flesh and twisted muscle stepped out of the alleyway, she became practically white.

Sydney retched. She’s not ashamed to admit it, you would’ve too. Anyone would’ve retched if they saw that sight.

It got worse.

“Hello?! Someone! Help me, please!”

It was Ms. Bruis-no, it looked like Ms. Bruis.

Cú ran. He dodged the creature, running to Ms. Bruis and starting to try to pick her up off the ground, before he noticed she was rooted to the cement. His eyes widened as blood ran down her face

She smirked.

Sydney will always remember the flash of teeth before she plunged her hand-no, her claw-into his stomach. He made a choked sound before the creature bounded back over and ripped his jaw clean off.

They ran. They ran. They ran.

And then they came back to the classroom, and they wept.

There were more expeditions after that. They lost seven more after that, but in those ventures, they collected knowledge. This knowledge went on Rosie’s list, though it also doubled as a rulebook.

-

THE LIST

1. Some creatures can make copies of people you know in order to trick you. They don’t bleed, so your best shot at not meeting eyeball daddy up close is to yeet the fuck outta there//bold of you to assume I don’t want to meet eyeball daddy uwu//

2. Don’t trust meat. Ever. Meat comes alive. WE ARE VEGANS IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2018(?)

3. Don’t answer the door, even if you’re armed. No, Eric, we do not count your big muscles™ as a weapon.

4. If you MUST answer the door, don’t. You have been stopped.

5. A short section on the happenings of the places(?) known to us as “nightmares.”

Nightmares trap humans in these crazy places. We’ve only seen two, but they are extremely dangerous, and both encounters ended in casualties. They trap your mind and make you experience terrible things, and like the rest of the world (to our knowledge at least) don’t follow normal time or space rules. Basically, if you want to avoid a ,’ , |,’_’, you should not screw with that shit.

6. Always check with someone else before eating or drinking. Sometimes, your mind will play tricks on you and you won’t notice that you’re eating something…not good. Honor cal for their sacrifice regarding this matter (sorry cal)

7. Always shut the blinds. Eyeball daddy is watching you//YOU DID NOT NEED TO SAY THAT TABITHA

8. Don’t leave the building without consulting all of class 108.

9. Don’t read books that others haven’t read first, especially if it says it’s from the library of Jurgen LeitnerSTUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING JURGEN LEITENER GOD DAMN FOOL BOOK COLLECTING DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIO//yes, Riko, we get it, but good point. Be Jared, 19.

10. Don’t invite anyone in.

-

“What are we on today?” Sydney asked.

“Tabitha’s on about the categories again.” Cal said.

“I really think it could work!” she said loudly. “Look, there’s consistencies in every single encounter we’ve had. Think about it. Remember what happened at the theater?”

Katie grimaced silently. “How could we forget?”

Tabitha ignored her. “The webs. Spiders and the rest of those insects are different categories. The wriggly silver worms are more like, bugs and wriggly things and judging from the infestation we had they all work together.”

“Like a hive?” Cal asked.

Tabitha nodded. “Exactly like that. Spiders are different though; you saw how many were crawling about during the amphitheater incident. And that whole thing was about control. All those people who were laughing…they, they were there. They didn’t want to do it! They didn’t want to laugh, you saw their eyes. They were being controlled. And when,” she paused, gritting her teeth, “and when Marcy died she was being controlled too. Puppeted.”

That’s two. Then we come to the next one, guns and murder and war and shit like that. Simple enough. But I think it has to be humans killing humans, because the thing that killed, killed Cú wasn’t like that. It was, it was different. I don’t know. I’ll get back to that.

“Then we have the cover up, or the anonymous things. Things like those little creatures that hide in your plates that you can’t notice are there until someone tells you. That’s why I’m confused, because I think the weird fleshy creature we faced was aligned with that but also with those meat things that broke Rosie’s leg. I don’t know how to explain it, but, ah. Sorry. I think they’re the same category.”

“I’ll humor you; can a thing be two categories?” Katie questioned her dully.

“I think so. Maybe it’s like colors? Really angry colors. They’re all separate, but the same because they’re all made of the same stuff. And they all blur together sometimes?”

“Yeah,” Katie snorted, “we’re being killed by really angry colors.”

Tabitha flushed. “Hey! It was just an analogy.”

Rosie seemed to be considering what Tabitha had said, before she looked up. “I believe you.”

“Y-you do?” Tabitha blinked, taken back.

Rosie nodded. “It makes sense. Really angry colors.”

“Really angry colors.”

-

A few hours-well, time was weird, but Sydney supposed it was hours-later, the class was doing yoga. Well, not “yoga” per se. They were beating each other on the head with torn up yoga mats.

“Hey!” Riko shouted as Tabitha tripped over her mat while chasing Cal. “Watch it! This is where I sleep!”

Tabitha stuck her tongue out and Katie snorted, not looking up from her book. Sydney wondered how she did that; Katie always seemed to have an astounding amount of situational awareness at all times.

“Real mature.” Katie groused.

Tabitha grinned, and Rosie smiled softly.

“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU MEET EYEBALL DADDY!” she shouted to Cal, who’s eyes widened in mock fear.

“Oh no! The horror! OwO!” They said dramatically.

“Did they just say “OwO”?” Sydney asked in a deadpan. Rosie nodded solemnly.

“You ever wonder…” Sydney trailed off, the muffled shouting of their peers drowned out into the background.

“Wonder what?” Rosie tilted her head in question.

“What happened to Mr. Sims.”

“He’s probably…not with us anymore.”

“Yeah. Still, could you imagine? He was a bloody cryptid. He’d probably take all this with no sweat.”

“Maybe he’d give us concerts too.”

“Good ole Jonny D’Ville.”

Rosie snickered.

“You know how he always drew eyes everywhere? During tests?”

“Oh god, don’t mention that to Tabitha, I don’t need her going on about another conspiracy.”

Sydney grinned to herself and Rosie groaned.

“Well, I was thinking, maybe it was an omen.”

“An omen?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been spiritual really, but the worlds gone to shit so who knows what’s real. Maybe the Mayans were just a few days off.”

“Ah, the apocalypse calendar.”

“Indeed.”

-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

A noise rang out from the entrance to the school, loud and imposing. Sydney’s heart started to thump wildly in terror.

They all shot up, and Katie got her switchblade out from her pocket. She was lucky enough to have it on her at the blink, and it was their best weapon.

Cypress shot inside the classroom silently, eyes wide, red curls bouncing. He clicked the door shut quietly, pale. “The others sent me. They’re hiding in place. I think we should just stay put.”

Rosie nodded, gesturing him to come over. She placed a finger over her lips in order to get them to stay silent, then nodded to Katie. Katie had always been gifted with really good hearing, and it had saved their assess more than enough times for Rosie to know that letting her try to hear who was at the door was the best safe bet for situation and the time being.

Katie closed her eyes, but after a quarter of a minute shook her head.

That’s when they heard it.

“Hello!”

Sydney brought a hand to her mouth to clamp down a scream.

It was Cypress.

Eyes wide, she glanced over to Cypress, her Cypress, who’s expression was now glazed over. Was his skin always that waxy? Why was his hair so smooth? It looked like that of a dolls, curls made of softly bent plastic.

Katie saw the flicker of light before she saw the blade, and she lunged.

Her switchblade pierced his skin-no, his stuffing, with a sound akin to ripping a toy. It didn’t seem to stop this not-Cypress.

Oh god, Sydney thought, today is the day I die.

There was a sound like static now in the air, and the faint smell of burning. Sydney began to feel sick, almost lightheaded.

The door swung open, and Sydney whipped her head around to see Cypress, who was trailed by…Mr. Sims?

[rebsrams]

Who Is He  (Ethan x F!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey and F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Valentine)

Warnings: A little bit of angst and a couple of cursing words never killed nobody. No happy ending, at least for now. 

Summary: An utterly jealous Ethan trying to contend with his own decisions. Set at the beginning of Book 2.

Word count: 1,432

Song: Who Is He (And What Is He To You?) by Bill Withers 

It was the third time that week.

He was beginning to feel inevitably annoyed at the very presence of Dr. Bryce Lahela in that hospital , let alone at Becca’s side, walking through the corridors with that unbearable cheeky grin plastered on his face.

There were two things that Ethan absolutely couldn’t stand about that whole “jealousy” thing.

Okay, three maybe.

First of all, he just couldn’t stand being jealous in the first place.

It was something so new and overwhelming for him, that he sometimes required a moment to calm down and bring back his face and knuckles to a human color, or at least one which didn’t suggest an upcoming implosion.

The second was that he was perfectly aware that he and only him was the cause of his bad mood.

He pushed her away. 

He ran away from all his “problems” going to the Amazon and rejected her when he returned, not even asking her how she was feeling or doing. 

As if she could ever be a “problem” to him. 

She’s always been the solution, and he was the only one to blame for understanding it so late.

Actually, there’s was absolutely nothing wrong if she decided to start a new life with a promising surgeon which was (much to his annoyance) ten years younger than him and definitely a lot more reckless and ready to risk his everything for a woman as special as she was. 

It seemed to him the most logical thing to do, for her. 

But if there was a thing he was actually beginning to learn thanks to the marvelous stubbornness of that fiery-haired girl, was that logic had very little to do with heart’s matters.

And his heart was desperately screaming “please, choose me” and breathlessly calling out for her every time she passed him by, almost intoxicating him with the cherry scent of her favorite shampoo.

And then there was the last thing.

Like a thumping sound in his ear, 24/7.

He’s already been with her.

Everyone at the hospital knew it.

Of course he never dared to think anything less of her just because she was enjoying life as a stunning girl in her 20s and her first year as a grown woman chasing the dream of a lifetime.

He just found it really, really challenging not to give in to his rage thinking about Bryce’s hands, already so experienced in his job, caressing or scratching every inch of her body.

There were moments he couldn’t keep his mind off of images of him taking her in her bedroom, in the kitchen, on the washing machine and even in every supply closet that damned hospital had.

There were moments, that just shaking away that thoughts wasn’t enough.

That day, that inglorious, gloomy day, was the third time that week that he saw them laughing and joking about medical stuff he sure would have found funny, at another time. Or at least said by her.

He was standing by the door of his office, paper sheets in his hand, and he pretended to be deeply engrossed in their reading as soon as her big blue orbits looked his way.

She kissed the surgeon on the cheek, whispering something in his ear.

That buzzing sound he always heard in that kind of situation began to increase considerably, until he realized she was coming towards him at a definitely lively pace.

“Dr. Ramsey, I was wondering if I could change my night shift with Dr. Trinh, just for tonight. She already agreed.”

Being the best diagnostician in the country, he tried by all his means not to think about the reason why she asked him so. 

The reason why Lahela escorted her to his office. Needless to say, he failed miserably.

“Oh, if that is the case… who am I to stop your evening of fun, Dr. Valentine? Just, don’t let Lahela too close or he might eat you alive, judging by the way he looks at you.”

He blurted out the words before he could even consider them.

Actually, it was not the words themselves that made Rebecca’s jaw drop, her cheeks redden and her eyes fill with… what? Disappointment? Hurt?

It was the tone he used. 

Almost aggressive, as if she was the one making him suffer. 

As if she had another choice other than try with all her might to forget him.

After almost thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence, she gathered the courage to reply.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Dr. Ramsey, but I don’t think that where I’m going or what I have to do tonight is anything of your concern. Thanks for your time, anyway. Hope you’re having a good day.”

She threw an ultimate fiery glance to him before turning around to go, when she heard such words from him that caused her to startle and her blood to boil.

“Now, now, no need to get defensive, Dr. Valentine.”

He knew he was going too far. 

He knew he was probably going to hurt her. 

But he needed to know, and he acknowledged her too well to know that sometimes, the only way to get the truth out of her stunningly plump lips was to piss her off.

Exactly as planned, she looked at him in a way that broke his heart in a single, really unpleasant movement.

She was wounded. 

Bleeding out in front of his very eyes. 

Mocked by the man who left her when she needed him the most.

“Dr.Ramsey… Oh, screw with that! Ethan, this has nothing to do with you. Nor with anyone else in this fucking hospital!” she exhaled deeply.  

“Christ, this is nonsense. First you push me away, you ignore me, you don’t even bother to greet me in the morning while we’re drinking coffee in front of the same machine, for God’s sake!

And now, you’re trying to what, be funny? I assure you that it isn’t working. And I really wish that I wanted you to let me be, more than anything else. The fact is that I don’t. So please, stop being so irremediably childish and tell me, once and for all, what the fuck do you want from me?”

She looked him straight in the eye, barely letting him be able to gather some air to respond to the question.

“Who is he?” he just said. 

Simple as it was. 

Or at least for him.

“What?” she looked visibly confused, her brows furrowed in a weak attempt to understand his words.

“To you. I mean, what is he to you? Are you two… going out together, or…” he just wasn’t able to finish the sentence. 

In spite of that, he could imagine fairly well what he meant.

“Is it really important? I don’t think you should bother…”

“It is.”

His eyes were alight in such an earnestly way that was actually impossible for her not to answer.

He took a step closer, being able to take her hands in his, their first contact in what felt like ages.

His calloused thumbs began to move in little circles over the back of her hands, which were almost sweating in his grip.

Finally, she answered and released that one breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“No. Bryce is my best friend. He helps me, from time to time, when I have to deal with… when I think about this whole situation way too much.”  

She said, gesturing with her head between the two of them.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t know about you, though he’s too smart to buy the “a guy I met online” stuff. Anyway, tonight a friend of his is in town and he asked me to help him showing her around. That won’t take too long but I asked Sienna to take my patients anyway because I needed, well, some time by myself. I think that’s all you need to know.”

She kept her eyes down, as if getting naked in front of him was something unbearable. 

As she was finally admitting defeat.

In a swift, brave movement, he cupped her cheek and the contact of his rough hand with her skin made her shiver. 

He noticed that, making her so endearing to his eyes that he almost couldn’t take it anymore.

 Almost.

He kissed her forehead, right between her eyebrows, lingering there just a moment too long just to inhale and memorize once more the scent that already haunted his dreams, along with that coppery mane of curls and that saccharine smile of hers.

“If only this was different…”

“I know Ethan. I know.”

Written at 2pm and I’m not ashamed. I think I’m definitely more keen on writing fluffy stuff, since when I try to write some angst I never truly commit to it and I always try to left it open. I think I just couldn’t bear writing about a break-up. Oh my, when did I get so gooey soft? Anyway, I just wanted to challenge myself, so here it is. As always, please forgive any misspellings or mistake of any sort.

Let me know if you enjoyed it and if you’d like to read a part II! 

taglist: @choicesfan10​, @schnitzelbutterfingers​, @openheartfanfics​ (let me know if you want to be added or removed from this list)

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch.29 - Apologies

This is the last of the 'PSA' arc and the last chapter to discuss underage drinking

Varian awoke with his head pounding, his stomach rolling, and a bad taste in his mouth. He brought his hand to his eyes to try and rub the soreness away and to block out the sunlight peeking through his bedroom window. No doubt Hiro and Baymax had brought him home last night, not that he could remember it.

Varian had only experienced a hangover once before in his life. At thirteen, he had wanted to prove himself a man and so had tried to join in with older men of the village during the harvest festival while they made toasts to celebrate the end of a long hard season. His father had been too busy to notice. It had been a fruitless exercise that only brought him shame and sicknesses. As he had laid in bed the next morning, Quirin just gave a weary sigh and said,"I hope you've learned your lesson, son." and then turned away to attend to his duties.

If only he had. What was wrong with him? Oh, why didn't he ever learn?

Varian groaned and dragged himself out of bed, swallowing hard to keep his stomach down. There was no sense hiding away in his room; the sooner he got this over with the better.

                                                ---------------------------

Hiro made his way down the stairs as Baymax hobbled along behind him. He entered the kitchen and then stopped in his tracks. Varian sat at the end of the table nursing his head in his hands as he brooded over a cup of coffee.

Hiro didn't know what to say or do. He didn't want to start another argument and he really didn't want Varian to run off again. So he just ignored the other teen as he went about fixing himself some breakfast.

Hiro felt like he was walking on eggshells as he scurried about. He kept casting wary glances back at the other boy as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, but Varian didn't move nor acknowledge that Hiro was even there.

"You are suffering from dehydration due to the consumption of alcohol." Baymax interrupted the silence. "This is sometimes known as a hangover."

Hiro's eyes widened as he feared another outburst from Varian, but the time displaced teen only gave Baymax annoyed glare but said nothing. So the robot continued, "A glass of water would be more helpful than coffee. Caffeine can increase blood pressure and worsen your headache."  

Still the gloomy teen said nothing nor did he make any moves to replace his cup of joe with the more beneficial water. In fact the only indication that Varian had even heard Baymax, was that he looked the robot dead in the eye as he lifted the steaming cup to his lips and took a sip.

Hiro gave an exasperated sigh, sat his bowl of milk and cheerios down, and went to fill a glass of water himself; forcefully setting it down next to Varian, who raised an eyebrow, but still remained silent. Then Hiro recovered his morning meal and sat at the other end of the table to eat.

Several minutes passed while neither boy said anything, and Hiro began to wonder what was even the point in trying. Varian seemed determined to self destruct. No matter how often they tried to help, no matter how seemingly well things got for awhile, no matter how many times Varian would apologize for screwing up, it all came right back around to yet another mishap, another poor decision, another fight.

Hiro tried not to judge too harshly, honest he did, he was no saint himself after all, but the whole thing was becoming tiresome. Then there were the times where Varian wasn't even sorry.

The incident with Momasake's knife sprung to his mind unbidden, along with the ninja's warning words. "People like that don't ever change."  

No. Hiro refused to believe that. He himself had changed for the better, so could other people, so too could Varian. He just needed someone to be there for him.

"You were right." Varian's voice broke through his thoughts, startling him.

Hiro looked at the other teen in surprise as Varian pressed on.

"I thought that I could handle things, but turns out I'm just a mess no matter what I do." Varian gave a pout and kept his eyes downcast.  

Hiro didn't know what to say to that. He felt like he should give some sort of encouragement, some reassurance that Varian wasn't a mess, but that somehow felt hollow and Varian would know it.

Baymax however did have something to say. "Many adolescents struggle with low self-esteem. Positive reinforcement can help combat this. Try replacing negative thoughts about yourself with compliments instead."

Varian eyed the robot skeptically and even Hiro had to admit he couldn't see that helping all that much in this situation.

"Like what kind of compliments?" Varian asked.

"Recognise your strengths. Varian, you are very smart. You are talented. You are courageous and kind. You have many friends and loved ones who care about you and wish to see you get better."

"Friends?" Varian shot back bitterly and then with tears in his eyes, added, "Not after last night, I'm sure."

"No." Hiro firmly rebutted, "We're still your friends. It's just like Baymax said, we only want for you to get better. Alcohol's just not the right way to cope with what's happened to you."

Varian searched the other teen's eyes, debating on whether or not to believe Hiro's words. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Aunt Cass walked into the kitchen ending the discussion.

She gave the boys a wide smile and kissed Hiro on top of his head. "Good morning! Excited for today?"

Without waiting for an answer, she walked over to the counter and poured herself a cup of the coffee Varian had made. "I thought we could close up shop early today after the morning rush. That way we'd have more time for our family outing. We could go to the park and go bike riding before the movie." She took a sip and walked over to Varian and tenderly ran her fingers through his hair. "How does that sound?" She asked them.

The boys exchanged looks and Varian came to a decision. He swallowed hard, "Aunt Cass… I have something to tell you…about last night."

                                               ---------------------------

Varian finished recounting the events of the past two days to Aunt Cass. Though he conveniently left out some details involving his arguments with Hiro and the rest of their friends; mainly anything to do with superheroing.

He knew Hiro would appreciate this. The other teen had been sent out of the room by Aunt Cass earlier, but they both knew he was most likely sitting at the bottom of the stairwell listening in anyways.

That didn't seem to matter so much in light of his confession though. Aunt Cass looked on shocked and horrified while Varian told her of the club and the drinking games, only interrupting to ask a clarifying question now and then. Once done with his tale, they sat in uncomfortable silence as Aunt Cass tried to process what was happening.

Suddenly she shouted; "Oh God, I'm an idiot!" startling Varian, as she got up to pace.

"Of course it was a college party! What was I thinking? "Painting party" Pff… And not just any college party, noooo, but a frat party. You were in college once, you know what those are like. And it never once occurred to you that your sixteen year old might want to crash one of those? Of course he would! You would! At sixteen you snuck into a rave!"

She paused in her rant to look out into the middle distance as she contemplated what she had just said.

"How did I wind up being the parent again!?" She yelled to no one in particular before slumping back down in her seat and cradling her head in her hands.

Varian was simply confused by this outburst. He didn't know what a 'rave' was, nor why Aunt Cass would be ashamed of going to one. Also it was his fault for lying and getting drunk, not hers.

Aunt Cass inhaled deeply and moved her hands to cup her mouth and then exhaled slowly as she folded them into fists to rest her chin upon.

"You said Baymax checked you over?" She asked. Varian nodded. "You're not hurt then?" He shook his head.

"Good," she said shakely, "That's good…. Then just what the heck were you thinking!?" She rounded on him.

He recoiled under her glare. Varian still hadn't gotten used to Aunt Cass's stressful mood swings anymore than her lectures. His lip quivered and fresh tears threatened to spill from his eyes but he couldn't formulate the words he needed to. He couldn't explain to her what it was like being the odd man out, a stranger in another world, an outcast from society with a shameful past; to never truly fit in no matter what you did.

"Don't you know you could have gotten hurt!?" She continued,"Didn't you stop to think even just a little that maybe sneaking into a nightclub and downing six shots of tequila might be dangerous?"

"I..I didn't know how strong tequila was." He protested in his defense. "I can normally down a couple beers no problem."

"Wait…This isn't your first time drinking?"

"Well no. Everyone drinks in Corona, it's just not a big deal there. It's like drinking a can of soda."

Aunt Cass eyes darted back and forth in confusion as she realized once again she had taken in a child from another country, another culture, and he wasn't just like Hiro or Tadashi. But she wasn't yet ready to concede the argument. She didn't want Varian thinking it was okay to do this a second time.

"And did you sneak into clubs there too!?" She asked incredulously.

"We don't have those." Varian exasperated. He was starting to become irritated once more. He got up from where he sat and leaned over the table at her. "Look, I get it! I screwed up! Just like always! I promise I won't do it again and I don't need you to remind me that I'm a failure, okay!?"

Varian paused mid-rant as he realized what he had just said. Both he and Aunt Cass exchanged surprised looks before he snapped his jaw shut and fell back into his seat, hugging himself as he was no longer able to hold back the tears.

"Varian…" Aunt Cass softly said as she reached her hand out to him, but he jerked away.

"I know.. that I'm...I'm all messed up." He heavied through sobs. "Okay? I know . And I know you're just trying to help. But..but I just … I just wanted to fit in for once, and not be the freak, or the villian, or the poor little orphan that nobody really wants…" He sniffled and wiped his runny nose. He no doubt looked every bit the mess that he felt he was, but at this point he no longer cared. "I'm the person that everyone either pitys, or hates... or even fears. I'm never allowed to be just normal, and no matter what I do, I just keep getting reminded over and over again that I don't belong! Not anywhere! Not here, not Corona, not with the Saporians...I...I…I just want my dad. That's all I want." he broke down crying again.

Aunt Cass was crying too.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

Varian blinked at her in confusion. Why was she sorry? What had she done wrong? He was the one who was broken, not her.

"I was so sure that things were getting better..." she went on,"No. I wanted things to be better, that I didn't pay enough attention to the warning signs. I should have known what kind of party you were going to, and I should have realized sooner that you weren't happy here. I let you down, and I'm sorry." She sighed, shook her head, and flung open her arms wide in a shrug. "I...I don't know what I'm doing any more than you do. Parenting is just playing things by ear and winging it half the time. Especially since, well, every child is different, and what worked for Hiro and Tadashi might not work for you. But I don't think you're a failure, or a mess; I think you're just a teenager, and you're not the only teenager in the world to crash a party and get drunk, believe me. Look, I don't care if you made a mistake, I care about you being safe and that you know not to do it again." She reached out to him again and cupped his face, and this time he didn't pull away as she wiped his tears. "Varian, I know it's difficult having your life uprooted and that you miss your dad, but I want you to know you are wanted. Okay? We all care about you. I care about you. You're my child and I'm never giving up on you, not ever ."

She was inches from his face as she said this. Her hazel eyes search his own, looking for a sign that she had gotten through to him. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to hold back the fresh tears that came for a now completely different reason. He sobbed, leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against hers. She wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Aunt Cass?" Varian asked over her shoulder, once he felt he could talk again. "I'm sorry. I mean it. I won't drink again. I promise."

She broke their hug only to give him a smile. "I know."

"You..you do?"

"Varian, you're a good kid, and you care about people. I know you don't want to scare anybody and that you didn't mean any harm...and I don't want to make you feel like you ever have to hide that you're upset about something. Come and tell me if something's wrong, or if something is bothering you. I'll listen. I promise."

"P..promise?" He looked at her questionly, hesitant to trust another adult again.

"Promise."

"Then..then can I not get any more lectures?" He blurted out. "I know when I did something wrong, I don't need to hear it repeated back to me."

Aunt Cass frowned and tilted her head, "Then... what do you suggest?" She asked slowly.

"I...I don't know." He hung his head. "I just feel like I'm being put on trial all over again. That was the worst." He added under his breath.

Aunt Cass blinked as it dawned on her what the real problem was. "Oookaay… I'll try and keep that in mind in the future. How about for now… you're grounded for a week. How's that?"

"Grounded? That's when you don't leave the house, right?"

"Sort of, you'll still go to school, but no more parties. I would also add extra chores, but you tend to do those anyways without me even asking."

Varian smiled for the first time that day. "Does that mean no family outing?" He teased.

Aunt Cass laughed, "Yeah, you're not getting out that easily. You're a part of this family now, and don't ever forget it." She kissed his forehead and stood up."Now go shower and get ready for the day, and let Hiro know we'll be leaving soon. I think a day off will do everybody some good."

                                               ---------------------------

Varian trudged up the steps of the sorority house. He made it to the front door and then cast a concerned glance back towards the car.

He had told Aunt Cass that he wanted to come clean to Carol about last night. His aunt agreed that that would be best and so had driven him out to the SFAI campus.

However that didn't stop his stomach from tying itself up in knots. The pretty girl probably wouldn't want anything to do with him once she knew the truth. Yet he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyways.

He heard footsteps barreling through the house and a familiar voice yelling "I'll get it!". The door flung open wide and there stood Carol, out of breath but with a huge grin on her face. She was clearly glad to see him, though for how long Varian didn't know.

"Oh hey, Varian! I didn't expect to see you today." She subconsciously patted the side of her head. She had her usual curls wrapped up in a scarf, and had been in the middle of some sort of hair care treatment that she dropped once he had arrived. "You..you wanna come in?" She offered.

"I'm afraid I can't." He declined. "I'm with my aunt right now and we're about to go on that 'family outing' I told you about." He pointed back to the car, and Carol's smile only became wider as she waved to its occupants.

"Is the other kid your little brother or cousin?" She asked in her usual friendly manner.

"Uuuuh… sort...of..." Varian didn't have an answer on hand that didn't require a long explanation, so he hurried onto the reason why he was here. "It's a long story, but that's not why I'm here. " He took another steading breath and looked her firmly in the eye. "Carol, I haven't been honest with you, and I'm sorry."

Her smile promptly fell away from her face. "You mean you lied to me? About what?"

"I shouldn't have been at that club. I'm only sixteen."

Carol blinked in confusion. "You mean you're still in high school?"

"Well no; I really am in college and I did just move here from Europe. That's all true, it's just, I got admitted into SFIT early."

Carol made a face as if disgusted by the truth. "You mean I've been hitting on a sixteen year old this whole time?"

Now it was Varian's turn to be confused. "You never struck me?"

"No, 'hitting on', it means flirting."

Varian's spirit picked up, "You mean you were flirting with me?"

"Well now I'm not." She said incredulously and Varian's face fell as his hopes were dashed.

"That..that's fair." He nodded his head and started to walk away. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just didn't think it was a big deal at first, and by the time that it was, well, I just …. I'm sorry."

"Wait." Carol called out. He stopped and watched her as she struggled to find the words she was looking for. "Look...I can't get too mad at you. You ain't the only person that snuck in that club last night."

Varian began to regain hope and walked back over to her as she continued. "Mind you, I just turned nineteen so that's a bit different than being the same age as an eleventh grader, but it's... still not on the up and up. Also if I've gotten a chance at your age to crash a college party I would have, no questions asked, hands down."

She gave him a small sheepish smile and he returned it. Then he rubbed the back of his head as he steeled his courage to ask her another question.

"I.. I won't be able to go clubbing or attend another frat party again anytime soon, and I know you probably don't want to date after what just happened, but...would you still like to be friends?"

Carol tilted her head and studied him a moment thoughtfully. "Friends? You mean like the kind that you can call on for help or just to talk to sometimes?" She asked, recalling their conversation from last night.

"Yeah, and maybe hang out once in a while; just no alcohol this time. I made a promise to Aunt Cass." He gave an awkward laugh and Carol couldn't suppress her smile.

"Yeah, friends sound nice." She agreed and they shook hands before parting.

                                               ---------------------------

Monday morning rolled around and Varian stood outside the communal lab waiting. His palms were sweaty and he couldn't stop himself from shaking nervously.

Hiro had gathered everyone together to hear Varian's apology, but Varian feared it wouldn't be enough. The sight of everyone walking away from him replayed in his mind over and over again. Why should they forgive him? He had made an ass out of himself once again and worse he had hurt Gogo. He hadn't meant to, but that didn't change the fact that he did. They had given him so many chances already and there was no reason for them to keep on giving him more.

He gulped as Hiro opened the door to let him in. The rest of the gang sat in a semi-circle waiting to hear what Varian had to say. Only he didn't have any words. He opened his mouth to say, 'I'm sorry,' but nothing came out. So he clamped his jaw shut and fought back his tears as he cast his eyes down to the ground.

"Hiro says you told Aunt Cass what happened." Wasabi said. His arms were crossed and his voice was serious but he didn't launch into an angry rant at least.

Varian nodded his head yes.

"And did you promise her not to go out drinking again?" Wasabi pressed.

Varian nodded again.

"Good." Came his reply and he walked over to Varian and pointed his finger in his face. "Cause if I catch my best friend doing something so stupid again, I'm going to have to have a nervous breakdown and your going to have to be the one to hold the paper bag that breath into, okay." He then flashed Varian a grin to show that he was only half way joking.

Varian gave him a half smile, half pout. "I'm sorry," he sobbed as Wasabi laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hey we're just glad you're safe." Fred said as he made his way over to give Varian a hug.

Honey Lemon got up and did the same. "Promise us you won't do something so dangerous again."

If she had asked for the moon with such pleading eyes, Varian would have started building a rocket right then and there. Yet, he knew that he would never be able to keep such an oath; given what a disaster he was. He swallowed hard and tried to come up with an easier promise. "I promise; no more dance clubs, no more drinking, and no more lying about my age."

This seemed to placate her and everyone else in the room, save for Gogo. While everyone was gathered around he looked over their shoulders to see her still glaring at him. He gently pushed past Honey Lemon and stepped towards the other girl.

"Gogo..I'm…" He made to say sorry, but she interrupted him by holding her hand up. Gogo then stood up, gave him a shake of her head and another disapproving look, before walking out the door.

Varian felt his heart shatter on the floor as the door firmly slammed shut.

                                               ---------------------------

Varian felt riddled with anxiety all day. He barely was able to concentrate on his calculus quiz and his class in applied computer science was a blur. He couldn't focus on his portal either. Guilt pricked his mind and he knew he wouldn't be able to get anything done until he tried to mend things with Gogo once more.

He found her in the welding workshop. She was busy soldering the joints of a bicycle together. He walked up to her, careful not to get in the way of sparks flying off the blow torch, and patiently waited for her to finish or come to a stopping point.

However, Gogo only seemed determined to ignore him. Once done with her welding, she flung up the flap of protective visor, turned on her heel, and deliberately walked over to the tool station to find another piece of equipment. She then made a show of her search, refusing to spare Varian even a glance.

Varian didn't blame her for being angry, nor did he believe she would forgive him at this point, but she deserved to hear a full apology from him and he was determined to give it.

"Gogo?" Failing to get her attention he pressed on anyways. "Gogo, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, and I'm sorry that I broke my promise; but most of all I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn't mean to. It was an accident, but I still did it and I.. I'll understand if sorry isn't enough...I just wanted to let you know that I am."

Gogo paused and in what she was doing but she still wouldn't turn around or look at him. He waited a few moments more for a response before tearing himself away. However he stopped at the door at the sound of Gogo's voice.

"You think that's why I'm mad?" She asked quietly.

"Well, isn't?" Varian was confused. He thought he had covered all that he did wrong in his apology. What had he missed?

Gogo tore off the visor she wore and threw on the table. She then gave a long frustrated sigh as she ran both her hands through her hair before cradling the nape of her neck in her hands and giving an exasperated look towards the ceiling. Then she dropped her arms and finally turned around to face him.

"First, there was the flood in the communal lab. Then you got arrested for 'bot fighting and ran away. Not to mention that you decided to just walk into the middle of the desert with no thought as to how that might not end well. Oh and let's talk about how you tried to fight a highly trained assassin with nothing but a frying pan!"

"B-baking pan." Varian nervously corrected and then he joked, "A frying pan may have stood a better change of workin-…."

The enraged look on Gogo's face put an end to his attempts at levity. He then cringed as she started in on him again.

"And there you were sneaking into a nightclub with a bunch of strangers and making yourself sick with alcohol. It's like you don't stop to think. You're so damn sure of yourself all the time that you never consider how things can go wrong, how you could get hurt." She blinked back tears. "I already lost someone once because they wouldn't stop. I.. I don't want to lose anybody else."

Varian's breath stilled as he realized who Gogo was really talking about. She hugged herself as the tears came unbidden.

"You..you don't know what it's like to get left behind, do you?" She asked. "It hurts to see someone you care about rush head first into something dangerous, okay, and you have people who care about you now. This isn't Corona, you're not alone any more, but that also means you need to think about them too before you go off and do something stupid!"

She sobbed and slumped to the ground to cry.

It was disconcerting to see the normally composed Gogo break down into tears. It was even more upsetting to know that he was the cause of them. Well, not just him, but him and Tadashi rather, and not for the first time Varian felt as if he was living under the deceased teen's shadow.

He sighed and walked over to the girl and sat down beside her. He didn't know what to say or do to make things better so he just remained by her side as she cried.

After a time she choked back her tears and said, "You're not ever going to stop, are you." It was a statement not a question.

"I don't know how to stop." He despaired.

She hugged herself once more and refused to look him in the eyes.

"Look you're right, I don't think about what may happen to me when I do things." He confessed, "But it's not because I don't care about everyone else; it's just… I guess… I'm just not used to having people looking out for me, and I don't know how to handle that sometimes. I was always either the one fighting on my own or the one looking out for others, and half the time I'm afraid everyone is going to figure out what a disaster I am and leave." It was now his turn to choke back sobs. "Leave me all alone just like before, just like everyone else has done.. I..."

Gogo finally looked at him and pouted. Then she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Well, good thing we knew you were a disaster the moment you tried to smoke bomb the cops then." She gently teased.

Varian couldn't help but snicker while blinking back his tears and he too leaned his head against her own.

"Soooo...are we...are we still friends then?" He asked.

"Of course we are, you idiot." She replied in exasperation and snuggled closer. "And don't you ever forget it, cause next time you do something dumb like that I'm kicking your butt."

Varian nodded his head, "Yeah, sounds fair." And they both broke down laughing.

[demaury]

only fools do what I do

Words: 4445 | Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Not only is he getting cheated on and betrayed by his closest friends, but he’s getting ghosted by his very own cheating boyfriend. Business trip my ass. He’s going to murder him.

OR. Lucas gets cheated on and finds comfort in the one person he never expected to. (ao3 link)

I’m so sorry, Lu. I saw them together while I was leaving the bar.

These two sentences have been replaying in his head for three days now, and he just can’t seem to get them out. Neither them, nor the picture that printed itself in his head. He’s been imagining them, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing on that fucking balcony with no fucking care in the world, as if they were reenacting some dumb romantic movie, and every time he wants to throw up a little bit more. Problem is, he hasn’t eaten anything in hours, probably since the day before, and for the better part of the last three days he’s been shutting himself from the rest of the world, putting his phone on airplane mode, and crying himself to sleep every now and then — at least until this morning.  

Now? Now he’s angry, and he’s coming for blood.

His whole world came crashing down when he met with his friends at a bar. His boyfriend Benji had left that very morning for some business trip that was supposed to keep him busy out of town for about a week, and while Lucas wasn’t a 100% rejoicing at being separated for so long, he wasn’t usually giving it too much thought because these kind of things happened every once in a while. How fucking naïve. His best friends didn’t even dare to look him in the eyes, too ashamed, too embarrassed, too aware, perhaps, that they’ve been crappy to him for keeping this information for weeks now.

“We were just hoping Benji would come around,” they pleaded.

Well, guess fucking what, Benjamin fucking Carron hasn’t. Not for a lack of trying to get in touch on Lucas’ part, though. Not only is he getting cheated on and betrayed by his closest friends, he’s getting ghosted by his very own cheating boyfriend.

Business trip my ass.

He’s going to murder him.

Not with his bare hands, of course, because as much as he’d like to, there’s so much strength in his body he can use at once, and he’s leaning towards the average/short side of population, and his fucking, fucking boyfriend happens to be on the other side.

He should have fucking known. Hot guys date hot guys. Sometimes they date cute guys. They don’t date people like him. His area is somewhat cute looking nerds and hot guys who haven’t realized yet their potential, and he should have stuck to that instead of trying so fucking hard to change things that can’t be changed. Five years, that’s how much of his life he’s dedicated to this relationship, only to find out after literally everybody else that his boyfriend, his boyfriend of five years, has been banging some asshole on the side for weeks now.

Lucas’ eyes are stinging by the time the elevator reaches the designated flat, but he chooses to believe it’s just because he’s angry, angry enough to make his vision blur and his jaw tighten. He can’t cry now, it’s too damn important. He needs closure, he needs it like he needs his next gulp of air, and he doesn’t care if it makes him seem small and petty and ridiculous even — not a flying fuck given. The elevator rings and the doors roll open. It’s fucking show time, he thinks bitterly, and he blinks hard to keep the tears at bay. With a furious gesture he grabs the trash bag and snatches it off the ground, dragging it out of the cabin carelessly. It’s all Benji’s fault. It’s his fault if he’s down to this, his fault if he’s playing that part, his fault, his fault, his fault, he thinks bitterly as he strides through the hallway until he’s facing a black door with the number 40D on it. There’s a doorbell on the frame, and it only makes his anger intensify, skyrocketing through the roof of common sense and making it shatter in a bajillion pieces.

He can’t believe he’s fucking some doorbell-kind-of-guy — in every meaning of it. Him, Benji, the guy who rolls his eyes every fucking time Lucas vetoes eating from the pizza container, and yet here, with this guy, he’s probably getting pizza delivered from a much more expensive takeout service order and drinking wine in those stupid, ridiculously tall glasses that always threaten to shatter whenever you have the fucking audacity to clink them a little too hard together. It’s fucking hysterical, really, being betrayed and seeing his happiness (or the closest fucking form he’s known so far) thrown by the window for a doorbell and fancy glasses.

Lucas tightens his grip onto the trash bag, and in an ultimate act of rebellion, ignores the doorbell and starts hitting the door with his fist — once, twice, ten times, the loud thumping echoing in the hallway until there’s a voice shouting from the depths of the apartment 40D, somewhere behind that stupid black door. “Benji, you fucking piece of shit,” he yells without stopping.

He hears the sound of the lock turning, and only then he lets his hand rest and takes a step back, planting his feet deeper in the floor, squaring his shoulders just enough to try and mend his broken confidence as the door flies open.

Fucking show time.

There’s a guy in the doorway, who, of course, isn’t Benji — that in itself doesn’t make him bat an eye, but the fact that Lucas is there at all does make an invisible hand squeeze around his heart. Judging by the wet hair and the towel around his hips, he just got out of the shower, and he could be a match in a glaring contest, in the ‘freezing cold eyes’ category. From what he read on the mailboxes and the scarce information he got from his friend, his last name is Demaury, which is convenient because he doesn’t want to fucking know what kind of name his very own boyfriend is moaning at night when he’s pretending to be working.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”, Demaury spits out furiously.  

“I wanna see Benji, I know he’s in there,” Lucas yells back, and he stands a bit taller on his tiptoes to try and peer inside, in the small space left by that Demaury guy and the door. “Benji-”

The guy eyes him like he’s crazy. “He’s not here!”, he snaps. “What the fuck do you want and who the fuck are you?”

Lucas’ eyes widen, probably comically in any other given situation, and for a second he deflates a little bit under the enormity of the insult. “Who am- I’m the fucking boyfriend of the guy you’re sleeping with!”, he exclaims.

“Wha-at?” Demaury’s angry face falters for a second, and okay, maybe Lucas takes a little pride in it, but soon he’s back to glaring and coldly throwing daggers at him. Worse even, there seems to be a fucking hint of disdain as he snarls: “Nah, I don’t believe you.”

Unbelievable. Reality isn’t fucking up for grabs, he wants to yell. That guy doesn’t get to decide what’s the truth and what isn’t. “I don’t give a shit that you believe it or not!”, he bites back. “Benji and I- Benji and I we’ve been together for five fucking years, we have an apartment together!”

He wants to add more, to elaborate, but any sane person would just roll with what he just said and admits their mistake and foolishness. No one cares that he and Benji have their habits at a couple of restaurants. No one cares that they’ve been each other’s dates at weddings. No one cares that they’ve got a shared Netflix account and that they share a phone charger more often than not. They have an apartment together, that should be fucking enough to sum it all up, to Lucas at least. It should be enough of a clue that what he has — or maybe had, he doesn’t really know anymore — with Benji is true, and real, and fucking exclusive.

But instead?

Instead the guy snorts.

He fucking snorts and shakes his head as if Lucas had just come up with a particularly stupid theory on why the fucking Titanic crashed into a fucking iceberg. “See? No, I don’t believe it,” he says again, and Lucas wants to hit him so fucking bad that his hands start shaking. “I’ve been to his place, I was there literally three days ago, and there’s no trace of anyone else in there.”

Three days ago.

Three days ago, Benji was already out of town.

He was already supposed to be out of town, supplies an unhelpful voice in his head. And three days ago Lucas was home because it was fucking Saturday morning, in his fucking sweatpants, on his fucking couch. The first thing that comes to his mind is that the guy is lying. He’s lying, because in their apartment there are pictures scattered around, pictures of Benji, pictures of him, pictures of him and Benji, clothes belonging to the both of them hanging off the rack in the entrance and his shoes stacked along Benji’s in the closet next to the front door. He’s everywhere, they are everywhere.

They are everywhere in their fifth-floor apartment in the 11th, and it’s another horrible feeling that snakes its way up his throat as he starts putting the pieces together — or at least when he thinks he’s starting to get a grip on what the fuck is going on.

“What’s the address?”, he grits out.

Demaury squints his eyes a little and huffs haughtily. “I’m not giving you his address!”

“Is it in the 10th?,” Lucas asks blatantly. “Rue Tesson?”

Something in the guy’s face slips a little, just like the first time. Lucas doesn’t need him to answer because his eyes do it very well on their own: there’s a flash of discomfort and betrayal in his grey eyes, and it’s enough. He doesn’t say anything at first, and Lucas only feels mildly happy about it, for a split-second — half the time he felt satisfied the first time. He thought it’d be a lot funnier to shatter someone’s heart but as it turns out it just feels terrible.

It’s his turn to huff and to shake his head, and to make it sound like he’s the one holding the cards. It should feel good and freeing to be right, but it really doesn’t. It just feels like he’s watching himself a minute ago. “It’s his old apartment,” Lucas says, quiet, almost tiredly. “He was supposed to rent it when we moved in together. Well, at least he told me he did.”

Maybe the people who lived there just moved recently, and he took it as an opportunity to bring along his fucking lover, Lucas thinks. That’s what he wants to believe, at least, and he hopes wishful-thinking takes him somewhere less painful than where he’s standing right now, on the fucking brink of bursting into a hysterical laughter that would definitely put him up and ready for a psychiatric ward. It’s easier to believe that Benji only lied for a few months than for the entirety of their relationship. Or so he thinks. He doesn’t know very well anymore, and the trash bag in his hand seems ridiculously out of place now.

The guy’s eyes fall onto it as soon as Lucas’ fingers tighten a little bit more around it, making it rustle faintly, and he’s surprised to find no trace of pain or despair in the guy’s face anymore. That flash of pain? Gone and long forgotten, judging by the intensity of his glare. That’s some eyes he’s got there, Lucas mutters inwardly. He doesn’t have much trouble finding ten reasons why Benji would cheat with a guy like that — he’s so ridiculously handsome that every new detail he notices about him cuts yet another deeper wound in his already shattered self-esteem. His eyes are clear too, but much greyer than Lucas’. He’s got brown hair too, but it’s already drying off by itself and he can already tell it’s gonna look good. He’s taller. More athletic looking judging by what he can see.

Better. Better, better, better.

He feels like a fool all of a sudden. He came to throw a fit but he’s just embarrassing himself at this point. The guy’s right, he misread the situation. Benji did cheat. Benji does cheat. But he’s not going to stick around long anyway when there’s someone else like that guy waiting for him to get home at night. At best he stayed just long enough to land back onto his feet. He doesn’t want to think about the possibility that maybe, just maybe Benji stays because he pities him.

Fuck his eyes are stinging again. No, no, no, he thinks helplessly as he looks down, blinking hard to prevent the tears from falling.

His heart jerks in his chest when there’s a hand snatching the trash bag from his loosening grip. “It’s his stuff, right?”, Demaury says, demanding and cold, and Lucas doesn’t know if it’s sheer hope or not but it seems like he can hear a hint of bitterness and resentment too.

Technically it’s not his stuff, because there’s so much of it back at the flat that it would never fit in a single trash bag, but Lucas nods anyway. It’s just a couple of things he had grabbed to make his point crossed. He’d planned it all. He’d planned it all, he’d planned to throw it all one by one in Benji’s face, photo frames, a bunch of underwear and jeans waiting for laundry and a sweatshirt Lucas claimed as his own early in their relationship, but that he can’t suffer the view of anymore. He’d planned to yell at his face, to punch him even, if he got the chance, but now he’s left congregating with his boyfriend’s almost naked lover in the middle of a foreign building.

How much more of a fucking failure can he be?

Demaury peers at the content of the bag, then without saying anything he just spins around, and for half a second Lucas expects the door to fly shut right in his face — but it doesn’t. Instead, he’s striding further inside the apartment, and Lucas’ eyes trail absently behind him as he makes his way through his living-room. Demaury chucks the window wide open, and Lucas’ eyebrows shoot up when he reaches for some paper sheets hanging on the wall, tearing them apart a little bit as he doesn’t pause to take the pins down to shove them all in the trash bag. Next thing Lucas knows the bag is flying out the window. Demaury motions to close it, then he pauses and grabs something on the coffee table that he sends out as well. There’s a faint crashing sound when it meets the pavement down the street, and Lucas thinks he might have just witnessed the brutal murder of Benji’s beloved iPad, but he’s not sure.

The window slams shut and Demaury stares at him, hands to his hips, from the entrance of the living-room. “Want something to drink?”, he asks after an agonizing minute of silence where Lucas actually thought he might just be about to receive the same treatment as Benji’s stuff.

“You just- threw everything out,” he says flatly — he’s a bit stunned by the turn of events, to be honest.

“And I’ll be an A+ ecologist for a month to make up for it, yeah,” Demaury sighs. “You want a drink or not? I could use one.”

Lucas considers his options. He’s got nowhere to be, theoretically. “I guess I could use one too,” he admits, a little bit warily. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he dares to step in.

Shit like this only happens to him.

“Good. Make yourself comfortable while I’m dressing,” Demaury says dryly. He motions to leave the living-room then turns back. “By the way,” he adds again, almost like an afterthought, “if you find anything belonging to him, feel free to throw it out.”

Lucas gives himself a second to think about it, his eyes still following him as he’s retreating towards another room to dress up. “Can I smash it instead?”, he asks, because there’s so much they can throw out the window before getting in trouble. The last thing he wants is to get arrested or fined on top of things.

Demaury doesn’t turn back. “Whatever you want,” he says, gesturing dismissively, and Lucas stares incredulously around him after he disappears out of sight, leaving him alone.

He fidgets for a hot minute before sitting down onto the black couch, uneasy, unsure, out of place. He doesn’t want to think about the things this couch might have seen, and he doesn’t want to think about the evenings Benji supposedly stayed at work and ended up spending there instead, and when Demaury walks out, dressed in black skinny jeans and a black hoodie and with a bottle of Tequila in his hand, he suddenly feels better.

Alcohol. That he can do.

*

“Benji was really it for you?”

Lucas’ eyes trail up from the bottle of Tequila sitting empty between them. Eliott (his name’s Eliott), is staring at the ceiling, lying flat on his back, with an unreadable expression on his face. Lucas isn’t sure whether or not he looks sad, or, like, regretful. He just looks… thoughtful. Apparently alcohol gets him thinking, Lucas notes bluntly.

Or maybe sex does.

Sleeping with the lover of his boyfriend isn’t his finest moment in life so far. It really isn’t. But he doesn’t feel guilty, and judging by Eliott’s entirely too laid-back demeanor, he doesn’t feel a hint of regret either — which is always nice when you sleep with someone new, Lucas guesses. He looks up too, trying to pinpoint what exactly Eliott is seeing, but the ceiling is completely white and Lucas’ having a little bit of troubles fixating his eyes on a particular point, let alone an invisible one. The sun is up and bright, pouring in the bedroom through the high window, and it makes him blink and squint a little.

“Maybe,” he says, and he reaches up to rub his eye with the heel of his hand. “I guess so. I mean, we have- we had an apartment together.” He forces the past tense because he doesn’t think there’s anything left to save with Benji, if the last few hours are any indication. They still have an apartment together technically — they are still renting the walls. But the intimacy of living with someone else? Gone. Shattered. Buried. He’s not sure how he feels about it just yet, and he tries to push the thought away for another time.

“Doesn’t mean you would have spent your life with him,” Eliott says, still looking at the ceiling.

Lucas shrugs, more to himself, and he eventually sighs before rolling over onto his side. He shifts his knees a little bit up, and he can feel the warmth of Eliott’s leg nearby. “Dunno. I was happy with him.”

Eliott hums in response and Lucas peers at him discreetly, averting his eyes every now and then to avoid being caught staring. He doesn’t know if it’s the Tequila talking but each passing second makes it more difficult to look away — to pull away. “Was he?”, he asks after a while. “For you?”

To his surprise, Eliott snorts and shakes his head. “I’ve known him for four months. A bit early to form an opinion,” he says, and Lucas makes a noncommittal sound in agreement. Eliott heaves a sigh and turns his head towards him. “I just got out of a long relationship when we met, I guess I didn’t look too much into it. Everything was new and refreshing, you know how it is,” he concludes with an evasive gesture of his hand.

No I don’t know, he wants to say. He doesn’t know because before Benji his longest relationship had lasted for a year and all the others were just a matter of months, sometimes even weeks. He’s just not good at relationships, no matter what it is that guys are looking for, they never seem to find it in Lucas — Benji was the only one who made him feel otherwise, who made him feel like he had finally understood the basic rules. He doesn’t say it out loud, because it’s pathetic enough to think about it, he doesn’t want to word it out for some hot stranger he had sex with once to snicker at him and tell him he overthinks it. After all he knows nothing about Eliott, aside from the fact that he’s outrageously handsome and ridiculously good at whatever he does once clothes are off.

“So, my long-time boyfriend was just your rebound guy,” he says darkly.

“Four months is a bit long for a rebound guy though but, yeah, I guess that’s close enough.”

The worst part is that he doesn’t find it in himself to hate Eliott, even though he’s pretty sure he’d feel better hating a stranger than to hate his boyfriend of five years. He eyes the empty bottle of Tequila with a sad look. He’s not nearly drunk enough to think about what’s going to follow. When Benji will come back in town and they will have to talk. Fuck the grand gesture this time. He’s just going to yell at him and probably cry, and it’s going to be ugly and pathetic, but he doesn’t give a fuck — he’s not sure if he wants Benji back at this point, if he wants to make up with him. If given the chance he doesn’t even know if he would go back to the way things were before Benji decided to bang Eliott. He just doesn’t know anything anymore.

“You’re better than he is.” Lucas glances at him absently, interrupting his train of depressing thoughts to focus on Eliott. “In bed.”

A few years back he’d have blushed and awkwardly laughed it off, but on the other hand, a few years back he would probably not have received a compliment on his prowess in bed. As it is, it just makes him snort and shake his head. “Right. Thanks,” then he mutters: “I can cross it from the list of things that might have driven him in your bed then.”

He’s not aiming to be an asshole or to hurt Eliott’s feelings, and spectacularly enough it goes as planned — Eliott even spares him a huff that resembles a laugh. “Ever thought that it might be on him? And not on you?”

“That’s not the first thing that comes to my mind, no.”

“Well, you should.”

“Right.” They stay quiet for a moment, and Lucas focuses on the label on the empty bottle that he circles absent-mindedly with his fingers. “I should go. Believe it or not but- that’s not what I came here for.” He already can’t believe something like that would happen to him in the first place, it’s not like he could possibly plan it beforehand.

“Unbelievable, really,” Eliott hums sarcastically.

Lucas rewards him with a kick in the ribs and a grumbled ‘shut up’, and after another minute, he braces enough courage to sit up. He feels like he’s overstayed anyway, at this point he really wants to get five minutes to register what the hell happened today. He grabs his discarded underwear and slides them on, then starts putting his clothes back on one item after the other. For some reason, the sound his fly makes when he zips it up makes the whole ordeal seem almost obscene, where being naked in bed with a near-stranger didn’t a second ago.

“You’re gonna kick him out I hope.”

Lucas glances behind his shoulder, halfway through putting his shoes on. “Hopefully.” He ponders his next question. “So that means you’re going to kick him out too?”

“There are other guys in Paris,” he says after a moment. “I like him a lot less since this morning, for some reason.”

Lucas huffs and stands up from the side of the bed to grab his hoodie. “I guess it’s a big enough town for us to never find ourselves in a situation like this again,” he eventually says after putting it back on. It feels somewhat awkward that Eliott hasn’t moved at all, still looking perfect between those anthracite sheets that have seen far too much of Lucas already.

“I guess so, yeah,” he nods.

Lucas presses his lips together, hesitating, and with an awkward wave of the hand, he pulls himself further away from the bed, stepping outside the bedroom. He still needs to pick up his phone, but he thinks he might have left it on the coffee table before they jumped each other on the couch after downing three quarters of the Tequila bottle in fifteen minutes.

“Lucas?”, Eliott’s voice calls out as he’s nearly in the living-room already. Lucas backtracks diligently and glances in the bedroom to find Eliott sitting on his bed. “There’s one thing we can’t take from Benji though. He’s got great taste.”

It should be hurting but somehow it’s not. He’s not over it. Not anywhere near. He still wants to smash things, he still wants to yell and scream and shout until Benji realizes he’s been an asshole, and he still holds a grudge on his friends for hiding the truth. He still doesn’t know how he’s going to deal with the apartment thing, where he’s going to live from now on once they’d have settled it all, and how he’s going to rebuild everything Benji managed to turn to shreds because he just can’t keep it in his pants.

But at least- at least he doesn’t hate Eliott. And as insane as it may sound, he doesn’t regret today. He doesn’t regret meeting him. And the sex- Well, no, he can’t bring himself to regret it either.

Lucas gives him half a smile, which turns into a full-on smile when Eliott grins back at him. “He really does,” he says, and he’s almost contrite as he makes his way to the front door after getting his phone back, because it’s not like they’re supposed to meet again and he’s not sure why this particular thought has even a place among all the others.

*

They do meet again.

A couple months down the road. They meet when Lucas is no longer the deceived boyfriend and Eliott is no longer the unintended other man.

And they meet again.

And again.

And many more times after that. 

[szopenhauer]

If someone has bad breath, do you tell him or her? doubtful, I don’t wanna hurt anyone, it’s awkward and a lot of ppl can’t change how they smell

Do you have an item that comforts you when you are sad/scared? used to have one special object, I still hold it sometimes, I suppose I might again at night from Friday to Saturday 

When are you likely to hide your emotions? when I’m face to face with an authority figure like boss, teacher or doctor, policeman too but I never been in a situation like this with them, I also hide my emotions from abusers at times to not show I’m afraid of them and to not provoke them more as well

Which is scarier: Dying of thirst or of starvation? I guess starvation as it takes longer

Have you ever tried to help someone quit smoking? it’s their decision to smoke, I don’t approve but I won’t get involved, I can only avoid them

Have you ever had to talk anyone out of suicide? self harm more likely, I mean... I was talking with suicidal people about them wanting to kill themselves but never at the moment when they were doing it so I don’t know if that counts

When you think of tomorrow, what feelings come to mind? packing, last day with my parents before I go to the hospital

What is the last thing you complained about? probably health related issues

What was the last curse-word you said? kurwa

When you fake sick to get out of school, what do you say or do to convince your parents that you are sick? I don’t fake sick, I might exaggerate but I won’t lie, I don’t want to worry my parents and because I’m chronicall ill I often was going to school even though I didn’t felt like it

Do you still talk to your very first best friend? no

When was the last time something went terribly wrong? basically everything goes wrong

How do you console someone when he or she is upset? depends

Choose one: Trip to outerspace, or trip underneath the oceans? no thx

How often do you feel overwhelmed? all the damn time

How do you deal with everyday life? poorly 

Who in your family do you act like the most? my dad

What is the most romantically sweet thing someone has done for you? my gf is doing many sweet things 

Have you ever been confronted by a mall cop for your behavior? I’ve never been confronted by the store guard - elseway I would never go back there out of anxiety

Is there someone that makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells? my mom

Were you ever afraid of one of your past teachers? sorta XD

Have you ever been in a physical fight on school grounds? I was attacked but I didn’t fight back so...

A homeless man asks you for 50 cents; how do you respond? dunno

When was the last time you visited a thrift store? recently

Can you handle constructive criticism? I can’t handle any criticism :(

Who is the most sensitive person that you know? me?...

When was the last time you wrote someone a note? few days ago

Do you tell your parents before you go somewhere, or just leave? I always tell

What was the last thing you tried to get out of doing? not sure what was last hmm...

Which season do you dread the most? winter

Is there a foreign culture you’d like to learn more about? maybe

Have you ever seen a famous painting and thought “I could have done that?” abstract art

What is the scariest thing about attending your school? which one?

Are you a good judge of other people’s intentions? I got better with time 

Shopping: best with friends, parents, bf/gf, or alone? depends

When was the last time someone told you to turn your music down? my mother sometimes asks me to because she has migraines

When you don’t know how to spell a word, do you look it up? not always *ashamed*

Are you one to spend a lot of time in the bathroom? nope but I’m the one that often goes to the bathroom 

Do you ever consider the challenges other races go through? sure

When was the last time you doubted your abilities? I have... abilities? :o

What was the last thing you wished for? health... not gonna happen tho :(

How many times a day, on average, do you look at the time? several, when I wake up then when I eat and between meals and then when I go to sleep and in the middle of the night if I go to pee

Where do you first remember living? I never moved

First fandom? woah I don’t remember 

First otp/ship? neither

How old were you when you first when on a plane? -

What was your first tattoo?  -

Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? show - She-ra, movie - A lot like love

Did you lose your virginity before you were sixteen? nooo

How many purses do you own? too many lol Are you bi? am not Who was your prom date? I never had one, I didn’t go to prom

Who was the last person to see you cry? parent[s]

Have you ever been used? yep

Do you like when girl takes you by surprise and kisses you? I like consent but... those were the best kisses ^^’’

Have you ever gone for someone despite knowing they were bad for you? I didn’t think about the future nor that I deserve love What kind of gift can win you over? what do you mean by WIN ME OVER? Are diamonds really a girls best friend? not mine, I don’t care for diamonds 

Have you ever dated someone with a child? no way  Have you ever dated someone shorter than you? Sarah was shorter

Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? my parents and my current partner

What sound is annoying you right now? it’s quiet :3

What gives you a peaceful feeling? sleep?

Would you rather live in the city, suburbs or the country? country

Are you more of a maker and giver, or a taker and user? taker and user I suppose

Do you buy holiday gifts early or at the last minute? early

If someone else were to describe you what would you hope they would say? the truth

Do you think it is harder for a parent to outlive their child or for the child to outlive their parent? parent to outlive the child because it’s not common

When do you do your best thinking? evening/night

What was a choice that you didn’t want to make but you had to? majority of decisions are smth I’d prefer not to make

What age do you think it is most difficult to be? to each their own

Do you think you could handle a day in jail? who knows

Have you ever been on a trampoline? I have not

Do you pretend to be something you’re not to make friends? I’m being myself and that’s why I’m friendless :P

Are you more of a shy or outgoing person? I’m introverted antisocial and a loner but I’m not shy, I can be loud and talkative

Are you more of an athlete or artist? artist Are you the type to procrastinate? I put PRO in procrastination  Do you believe that you’ll always be a kid at heart? ;) What is something you want to improve on this year? health, I’m trying  How many times a day do you get angry? uh oh... If you could eat any food you want right now, what would it be? personal Can you sleep with your eyes open? I’m no Gandalf

Do you still have any living grandparents? If so, how old are they? I don’t wanna talk about that

What’s your favorite computer game genre? simulations Do you have any exes your parents never liked? pfft Do you ever keep things just because they might be useful someday? we are hoarders

Are you frequently in a bad mood? sorry... Do you ever fill out surveys while in a bad mood? I go through soooo many moods before I finish one survey  Are you a fast or a slow eater? slowest among my friends, fastest in my house  How old were you when you had your first relationship? no idea what I should call a relationship and what not  Do you get dental checkups at least once a year? yup Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? mom, sister before she moved out Have you ever used chewing tobacco? tha hell? that’s disgusting!

Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who’s your buddy? not applicable Do you ever sit indoors and wear sunglasses or a hat? hat Are you putting off doing something right now? If so, what is it? drying my hair, drinking water and going to sleep mostly

Are you like me and hoard notebooks and pens? pens now, I stopped buying notebooks... oh wait... no... I just got one because I wanted to save bees, nvm... Are you sitting in front of or by a window? What can you see out there? by, it’s dark but there’s my neighbor’s house Are there any coasters on your table? If so, do they have text or pictures? flowers Do you have a song playing in your head right now, too? not really Don’t you hate it when people answer to surveys with one word answers? lame *I realized I did that myself *facepalm* Ever watched a cat or a dog sleep and run/twitch in their sleep? adorable <3 What’s something we do every day but they don’t depict in movies? it bothers me that in fantasy/sci-fi movies there are no toilets and meals are rare

Is your style feminine, masculine or somewhere in the middle? in the middle, childish yet of an old person haha Do you usually carry a backpack, a shoulder bag or something else? shoulder bag or tote  Do you wear glasses? If so, have you ever tried to fix them when they’ve broken? helped my dad fix his glasses couple of times Are there a lot of dragonflies around your house? they don’t show up frequently

[all-things-skam]

Title: Fucking catfish

Ship: Skam France | Lucas Lallemant and Eliot Demaury (Elu)

_______________

Eliott had warned him about catfishes and dating apps. But, Lucas was convinced that Clément was real. Alas, Clément wasn't actually named Clément. He didn't have dark curls nor green eyes. And, he wasn't as nice as he had made himself sound over texts.

Walking through the dark streets, Lucas felt stupid for not listening to Eliott. He was right. He had been right all along and Lucas kept insisting that Clément was different, that he wasn't playing him.

In times like this, Lucas wished he had a hoodie to hide himself under but, since it was supposed to be a 'date', he had ditched his usual hoodie for a nicer shirt - nothing too fancy though.

Lucas sniffled as he turned on a familiar street. He felt foolish for falling for someone so fast, so easily. He couldn't believe that he bought all those made up lies. Thinking back, it was obvious that the guy was lying. Someone like Clément couldn't exist.

With a heavy heart, Lucas raised his fist and knocked on the window, knowing that the only needed one person right now was on the other side. He bit his bottom lip, waiting. It was late, but Eliott would welcome him with open arms - and he wouldn't judge or say 'I told you so'...ever if he did tell him so.

Lucas knocked again, watching creepily as Eliott stirred in his bed. The older one rubbed his eyes, looking around for the tapping noise, a frown forming on his forehead when seeing Lucas standing outside his window. Eliott stood and went to the window, opening it.

''Hey,'' Lucas greeted in a quiet voice. ''Do you think I could...crash here tonight?''

''Yeah, of course.'' Eliott opened his window wider and stepped back so Lucas could make his way inside ungracefully.

Once inside, Lucas shrugged off his shoes and started to undress while Eliott searched through his drawers for a clean shirt to sleep in, yawning as he did. Their movements were slow in the quietness of the night, careful to not wake anyone up.

''Is everything okay?'' Eliott asked, sensing that something was up. He handed Lucas the old black tee. ''How did the date go with Clément?''

Lucas stilled at the mention of Clément and Eliott immediately got that it didn't go well. Whatever happened, he was there and ready to pick up the pieces.

''You were right,'' Lucas said, slipping on Eliott's tee. ''He didn't look like his picture.''

Without hesitation, Eliott closed the distance between them and pulled the younger on in his arms, providing Lucas the only comfort he knew: the safety of a best friend. Lucas pressed his face in Eliott's shoulder, fingers grasping at the back of his tee shirt.

Eliott gently rubbed Lucas's back, wishing he could take the hurt away. He cared so much for the younger boy and would do absolutely everything he could to protect him. But, right now, he just needed some comfort, so Eliott decided to move them to the bed, getting under the covers. Lucas immediately felt swallowed by warmth, the bed still warm from when Eliott was sleeping there minutes ago.

''Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to watch a movie or drink something?''

Lucas shook his head and Eliott pulled him closer, feeling Lucas brush their legs together.

Eliott felt powerless regarding the whole situation and it frustrated him. His best friend was hurting because of some dishonest person and he wanted to punch that 'Clément' guy. That's what he deserved for toying with Lucas's good heart.

They stayed in each other's embrace for a moment, Lucas staring into nothingness, feeling ashamed for getting himself into this situation. The absence of talking felt heavy but neither boys had anything to say. Eliott gently brushed Lucas’s hair out of his face and Lucas shut his eyes, leaning into the familiar touch. Without Eliott's safety nest around him, he'd probably feel even more miserable.

The clock ticked 2am and Lucas was still awake. Eliott had drifted in and out of sleep a couple times, but Lucas hadn't been able to get any rest. His mind was racing with different thoughts. Flashbacks of conversations he had with Clément, risqué pictures they had sent and Lucas felt sick to his stomach.

Boys are all fucking liars, Lucas concluded. They all lie about their life, phisyque, intentions only to get in your pants. Except, it wasn't true. Some boys were good, some had good intentions.

Like Eliott. Eliott who welcomed him in at past midnight and let him sleep over. Eliott who brought extra lunch when had noticed Lucas eating less and less at school. Eliott who was always looking out for him. Eliott who caressed his back when he was vomiting his guts out after a night out drinking shitty beers and vodka. Eliott who was there during the good and the bad.

''You should sleep a bit,'' Eliott's soft, sleepy voice suggested.

Lucas glanced up at Eliott and craned his neck, pressing his lips to Eliott's, catching the older one off guard a little. Despite the initial shock, Eliott kissed back, one of his hand coming up to cup Lucas's face. Maybe kissing your best friend was a mistake, maybe they'll regret it in the morning, but, for tonight, nothing felt more right.

[raendown]

Commission for @cassieeeeanne whom I cannot tag for some reason. 

Pairing: KakashiTenzou Rated: E Word count: 4904 Summary:  In which Kakashi is a vampire and Tenzou is the prey only too willing to be caught by his predator.

Follow the read or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Blood and Honey

Drifting through the corridors with a wine glass in hand, Tenzou felt rather like a character from a movie. They always had too much money and wore clothing too fancy for the settings they were in, moping around their homes dramatically with somber expressions having poignant revelations at the perfect moment to move their plot forward. The only revelation Tenzou had experienced lately was that he was much more in to this whole vampire thing than he would have expected. Not surprising considering the pretty package that came attached.

Footsteps echoing on the polished hardwood, he took another sip of wine and let his fingers trail over the doorknob before him. He was so far off in some unused wing of the mansion that surely these rooms weren’t anything more important than guest quarters or oversized broom closets and yet each door knob was a beautifully crafted masterpiece. Heavy brass and intricately carved, they were much too fancy to be wasted here where no one but him would see them. Well, him and the cleaning staff who he presumed existed, though he had no proof of that other than the fact that the mansion was exquisitely clean no matter how neglected the rooms appeared.

Only in Kakashi’s little playhouse could he could be drinking wine at two in the morning and wandering around abandoned corridors without supervision. The man clearly had too much money, judging by how well furnished each of these rooms were, but if setting up elaborate scenes like this one were what he wanted to do with it then it was his bank account, that was his right.

Tenzou let his hand fall away from the pretty doorknob and turned to go back the way he came. Hopefully he would remember all of the twists and turns without getting lost; for all the fancy things here he didn’t see any intercom or bell systems to alert someone else in the house that they were needed. Nor had he ever seen Kakashi interacting with any staff despite the enormity of his property and the unlikeliness that he cared for all of this himself.

Above all else, the idea that he could keep eight dogs and not have a single hair on the floors was possibly the most mysterious things about him – and that was saying a lot.

Kakashi was standing by the window when Tenzou finally made it back to the main living room. With the full moon in front of him and only one small lamp to light the inside he existed as little more than a quiet outline, as still as though he were naught but a shadow waiting for the man that cast him to reappear. It wasn’t until the clouds shifted outside and sent moonlight spilling in to glint off the wine glass in his hand that Tenzou realized he had fallen in to a trance just staring, mesmerized as he always found himself.

And who could blame him, he rationalized. Kakashi had fascinated him from the first time they met, enthralled him from that first encounter, filled his mind from the moment they kissed. He was like a drug that got in to your system and left you aching for another fix, a delicious addiction, and he hadn’t even the decency to be ashamed of himself for it.

“Did you find what you were looking for, pet?” his voice was low and dark, throaty in a way that made Tenzou shiver and draw a few helpless steps closer.

“Yes, here you are.” He could be smooth too when he tried.

Chuckling, Kakashi lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “Indeed. Here I am. And what do you plan to do now that you’ve found me, hm?”

Wine clung to his lips until a pale tongue slithered out to lap them up and Tenzou wondered how his skin could be so pale to make even wine that was already dark look so ruby red. It certainly didn’t look that color against his own skin no matter that it did all swirling together in his cup.  Curious, he held up his glass against Kakashi’s. The color was indeed different – perhaps he’d gotten bored of whatever vintage Tenzou had chosen and opened another bottle – but before he could ask the question was answered for him.

“No ferment for me, pet. It’s after midnight and I am oh so hungry.”

“Ah, blood then?”

“What else does a creature of the night drink?” Kakashi’s eyes twinkled and Tenzou smirked at him in amusement. He was committed to the bit, that was for sure.

Setting his wine aside, Tenzou drifted across the room until he was standing a mere few inches behind his lover, fingers only just brushing slim hips and head lowered to whisper against moon-pale skin. “All that exploration, I’m quite tired now. I think it’s time for bed.” He smiled when Kakashi only hummed in response. “Are you coming?”

That certainly got the man’s attention. Slipping away without waiting for a response, Tenzou deliberately began unbuttoning his shirt as he walking. He wanted to make his point as abundantly clear as possible.

Watching him walk away, Kakashi swirled the contents of his own drink and lifted it to his lips to drain the rest. It was hardly enough, not after having someone here with him and preventing him from hunting for almost a full week, but it took the edge off his hunger enough that it was probably safe enough to follow after the delicious temptation inviting him so generously in to bed. Tenzou seemed to make a habit of testing his boundaries and it was hard to tell whether he simply enjoyed the thrill of danger or if he truly didn't realize the lines he was treading.

Not that it mattered. Kakashi had been more than open about everything, they both knew what they were getting in to and Tenzou was a big boy. He was capable of making his own decisions.

Hunger rumbled at the base of his throat but it was easily ignored in favor of the heat rushing up his spine, a hot desire he hadn’t felt this intensely for anyone in more than a century. Something about Tenzou called to him in a way that would be terrifying if it weren’t so thrilling. Immortal as he was, it was a terrible idea to get attached to a human. He knew that, had seen the same old story turn out poorly for others countless times. And yet…

And yet here he was trailing after the scent of all that delicious warmth. With such a distinctive aroma Kakashi could track his lover through a rainstorm in the jungle. Never in his too-long life had he encountered anything quite like the intoxicating bouquet of humanity, blood, spices, and fresh air. Tenzou spoke sometimes of being addicted to him; he didn’t seem to understand that Kakashi was just as addicted. Wherever this dance between them was headed he didn’t care so long as it didn’t end yet.

Upon entering the guest bedroom he had prepared for the man, however, he found Tenzou to be nowhere in sight. With the same scent covering everything it was difficult but Kakashi was able to locate the highest concentration of it coming from the shadows in the far corner.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called softly. When he grinned he could see the shadows quiver and whispered, “Ah, I’ve caught you.”

Tenzou was biting his lip when Kakashi glided over to press him further up against the wall and Kakashi narrowed his eyes in playful objection to that. His were the only teeth that should be piercing all that delicious warm skin, sinking in to that delectable flesh, sampling the sweet nectar running just under the surface.

He realized he was staring at the man’s pulse when it suddenly bobbed in a harsh swallow.

“You’re looking at me like you want to eat me.” Tenzou sounded notably okay with that.

“I do,” Kakashi murmured. “I want my teeth in your neck, your blood on my tongue.”

“Let me guess, you want to devour me?”

“Mm, you do look like a meal, don’t you pet? And look, you’ve already begun preparing yourself for dinner.” Kakashi lifted one finger to trace the ridges of the chest before him. Humans were so amusing with their drive to craft the perfect bodies, the efforts they went to just to mold themselves in to the shapes they desired, and he’d never truly understood why until he saw Tenzou without his clothes for the first time. Tanned skin stretched taut over abdominals to kill for, perfectly shaped pectorals that made his mouth water until he wasn’t sure which hunger he was feeding.

Right now desire was winning, although that was hardly any surprise.

“When you look at me like that I always get the feeling that I should be running as fast as I can,” Tenzou admitted. Kakashi chuckled and leaned in to drag his tongue up that perfectly vulnerable neck, tasting the pulse, already drunk on the way it quickened under his touch.

“You absolutely should,” he said.

Then he peeled his lips back to drag sharp fangs over shuddering flesh and Tenzou arched in to him, sending his thoughts scattering. His own hot breath dampened the skin under his lips as he pressed massy kisses in a line upwards towards a defenseless ear where he began to very carefully nibble. Fingers clutched at the edges of his shirt and pulled clumsily at the buttons in a distracted effort to undo them until he took hold of Tenzou’s hips and pulled their bodies close enough to hamper further movements.

“If you are trying to undress me, sir, then I should think you can do better than pawing at me like an animal.”

“Gods, you are such an ass sometimes.” Tenzou’s voice was both irritated and aroused in a heady medley that had grown all too familiar over the past few months.

“Why yes, yes I am. But I rather think you like that about me.”

Instead of dignifying that with a response Tenzou pushed him away just far enough that he was unable to continue feasting on the neck and shoulder he had so been enjoying, returning his amused look with narrowed eyes before trying once more to unbutton his shirt. At least this time he was less distracted and therefore able to coordinate his fingers better. The shirt was open and peeled away in under a minute, attention going next to his belt. At that point Kakashi decided that they were even and turnabout was fair play.

Almost before his partner could blink they were both naked in the darkness and moving towards the bed, human fumbling and vampiric grace melding together in to an intricate dance only they would ever know. Kakashi knew better than to get attached. He also knew it was much too late for that. Every touch drew him in further and further until he was as deeply entangled in this trap he had set as the man in his arms was. Instinct cried out for him to feed until the body he pressed down in to the sheets lay dry beneath him and still he had yet to draw blood even once.

Not that Tenzou was unaware of the things he could do. Denying his urges had never stopped him from giving them voice just to watch how his lover reacted to the tone of his voice, hearing the dark desires hidden behind his devilishly charming smile.  

“I want to own you,” he whispered as he traced one hand down Tenzou’s side. The other reached under the closest pillow for the tube of lubricant he could smell, almond and plastic filling his nostrils when he popped the cap. “I want to keep you here with me to sate my every thirst. To fill my days with your body and my nights with your blood.”

“Nng!” Tenzou arched in to the touches and spread his legs in a wordless plea for more.

Kakashi was only too happy to oblige.

He began slowly with one finger, teasing his partner’s entrance with just the tip and then sliding inside up to the second knuckle, grinning viciously as he watched that beautiful body press back in to his touches. When he was sure it wouldn’t cause pain he worked in a second finger and set up a languid pace. Tenzou’s face was a masterpiece of expressions, frustration and desire, yearning and impatience, each of them a work of art and none of them encouraging him to move any faster.

Teasing had always been his specialty, the excitement of the cat and mouse game, seeing who would be the first to give in when the temptations became too much. For all that he was generally considered a lazy man this was one thing he was always more than willing to put a bit of effort in to. With Tenzou it was always more than rewarding, it was a joy. A pleasure.

Perhaps he was taking a little bit too much pleasure from curling his fingers to brush against the man’s prostate and dragging against his clenching muscles just to watch him squirm. Each time he sank his fingers back inside that tight heat he was rewarded with an involuntary jerk of the legs parted for him to kneel between, spread just wide enough that he had a perfect view of his own actions. Kakashi licked his lips. After living for so long he had of course had more than his fair share of partners but none of them had given him cravings quite like Tenzou. Even knowing how much of a bad idea it was had yet to stop him from throwing himself headlong in to whatever this was growing between them.

Not long after he finally had mercy and worked in a third finger Tenzou finally managed to unbend his spine and crack one eye open long enough to capture Kakashi’s gaze, panting like he’d run a marathon while that delicious pulse hammered in his throat.

“I’m good, fuck, come on!” A roll of his hips and a throaty moan made it very clear what he wanted.

“Patience is a virtue,” Kakashi teased. Still, he was quite ready to move on himself so it was hardly a disappointment to allow his fingers to slide out and reach for the lubricant again.

“You have no virtues,” Tenzou managed in riposte. After writhing in mindless pleasure for several minutes it was actually a little impressive that he could gather his thoughts enough for a witty comeback. Kakashi was almost proud, though mostly he took it as a challenge to do better.

With the lubricant in hand he lifted himself up and away, applying a generous amount to his palm and then discarding it carelessly on the floor, stroking his neglected length to spread the cool gel as he walked up the sizable bed to settle himself at the top of the mattress. When Tenzou rolled sideways to look up at him he was leaning back against the headboard and stroking himself.

“Come now, pet,” he called. “You wanted this. Come and get it.” Any other sensible human would have run from the dark smile that flashed across his face but Tenzou only shivered and rolled over obediently to crawl up towards him.

“As you command.” Tenzou’s voice was as hot as his skin and it made Kakashi chuckle.

“What a dangerous offer.”

“Hm, are you going to take advantage of me then?” As he spoke he slipped one leg over Kakashi’s to spread himself across the vampire’s lap. “Are you going to put me under your thrall and keep me forever? Lock me away from the world like a real pet?”

Kakashi tugged him forward in to a messy kiss. “A sex slave would be more appropriate.”

“That just sounds terrible, really it does.” Where he got the confidence to pull off a smirk that sexy was a mystery Kakashi was dying to spend the next several decades figuring out.

Settling his fingers on the tanned hips over his, he very pointedly bore down until it was a game of his arm strength versus the strength of Tenzou’s legs. Unsurprisingly he won. Tenzou moaned softly as he sank down on the cock waiting to fill him. When it was clear that the man intended to follow his silent orders Kakashi released his grip and allowed Tenzou to work his way down as he pleased, hips rolling and muscles clenching, head thrown back to cast unfettered sounds of desire up in to the air above them.

When he was finally seated, completely filled with Kakashi’s length, he braced himself on the headboard and lifted his weight just to roll back down again with a filthy groan. The rhythm he set was unhurried and yet perfectly controlled, teasing them both even as he chased his own pleasure at a steady place.

Lazy and unhelpful underneath the other, Kakashi still wasn’t completely idle. His hands explored the body writhing above him, raking his nails down across the heaving chest only to glide down and cup Tenzou’s bottom, spreading him open just a little wider. He only realized what he had done to himself with the position he chose when he took a deep breath in and felt his throat constrict.

He could smell it. All that hot blood rushing, racing, thundering through delicate veins, just under the surface and oh so tempting. Before he could stop himself his fangs had dropped and he traced their sharp points with his tongue, wanting. And why shouldn’t he? What was the harm in taking a little as long as he was able to control himself enough to stop? Surely he had enough self-control for that, enough feelings in the unbeating heart in his chest to prevent anything terrible from happening.

All he needed was consent.

Leaning forward, Kakashi pressed his nose against that tempting neck and closed his eyes to draw in the scent from right there at the source. His tongue darted out to lave the skin as he had earlier just to remind himself of how good it tasted.

“I want to drink from you,” he growled as Tenzou sank down on his cock yet again. “I want to know your taste, pet. I bet you taste delicious”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yes, don’t stop. May I drink? I’ll only take a little; you have my word.”

Tenzou quivered and lost his rhythm, hips rising and falling with frantic desperation. “Gods yes, yeah, bite me. Take whatever you want.”

Such an offer he could never have expected, nor did he expect the way those words would hit him. Kakashi felt his pupils dilating and the next thing he knew he was sliding through skin and drinking, Tenzou’s life the sweetest nectar on his tongue. As he had promised he took very little. He wished he could say it was because he meant his words and stopped before the temptation became too much but in fact it was much the opposite. The moment he had a taste Kakashi could feel the instincts he worked hard to bury rising up inside him like a storm, fangs dropping lower and hands clenching tighter to keep his prey in place.

What stopped him was in part fear, of himself, of what he could feel himself about to do. His teeth slid out as carefully as he could manage when ripping himself away because he in that instant he knew that if he continued there would be no stopping and the thought of doing that to Tenzou was possibly the most terrifying thought to have ever crossed his mind.

And yet Tenzou, perfect brave Tenzou, never flinched for a moment. His entire body clenched tightly as Kakashi marked him and then the moment they were separated he was coming, writhing and crying out as he met his release between them, dragging Kakashi along with sheer force of will. The rush of feeding, the euphoric taste of the man fucking him, the tight clench around his cock, it all seemed to hit him at once and Kakashi bit straight through his own lip with shock as he tumbled over the edge in to his own incredible orgasm.

Both of them were left panting in the aftermath as Tenzou collapsed forward to drape himself half over Kakashi and half over the headboard. For a few minutes the only sounds in the dark room were the two of them gasping for air and the slick sounds of Tenzou leaving messy kisses along Kakashi’s neck.

“Well fuck,” he muttered. “I knew you were going to bite me but that stung. And I did not expect to like it that much.” His words were broken up in to fits and starts as he continued to assault the cool skin before him. “God, how are you not sweating or something after that?”

“Vampires do no sweat.”

“I know you’re committed to that role – and I like it, don’t get me wrong – but there are some things you just can’t control, you know?” When he sat up he was wearing an easy grin, amused.

Kakashi was more confused. “Committed to what role?”

“Being a ‘vampire’?” Tenzou said, air quotes implied in the way he stressed the last word. Kakashi tilted his head curiously.

“It’s not a role, it’s what I am. You know that.”

“Oh. So it’s like a whole lifestyle thing then? I really thought it was just roleplay because you, you know, get off on it. I’m really sorry if I sound condescending, I don’t mean to! Just, uh, I didn’t realize you really do live the whole lifestyle at all times.”

“What lifestyle? I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Kakashi frowned and shifted until Tenzou was sitting up a little straighter over his lap. He had a feeling they were not having the same conversation.

Tenzou hesitated, clearly to wanting to offend him. “I mean…Kakashi, you don’t actually think you’re a vampire, do you?”

If he still had a beating heart it would have stopped in his chest. Afterglow fading fast, Kakashi stared hard at the man still sitting on top of him, still filled with his softening cock. They had known each other for almost a year, had been sleeping together for months, and for all that time he had been completely honest about his vampirism. Looking back, he should have realized how suspicious it was that Tenzou seemed to take it all in perfect stride, not put off in the slightest by any of Kakashi’s afflictions.

Not having been one himself in a very long time, it was easy to forget how determined humans could be to explain everything away with boring natural reasons. He should have realized that Tenzou didn’t really believe him but after all that proof…

“I bit you,” he pointed out. “I drank your blood – which was delicious, by the way.”

“You’re not the first person I’ve met with a biting fetish.”

“Pet, I have fangs.” Just to make his point he dropped them down and peeled his lips back, letting them glint in the darkness. Unfortunately Tenzou didn’t seem too impressed.

Baring his own teeth as though this was all a game, he said, “They’re actually quite impressive. I keep meaning to ask if they’re implants or what adhesive you use if they’re not.” He lifted one hand as if to poke them and Kakashi jerked his head away.

“Neither! They’re my teeth! Oh for- just get up and come with me!”

Tenzou looked caught halfway between laughter and genuine worry as though he were questioning Kakashi’s mental state for believing so deeply in something he refused to accept as the truth. Luckily Kakashi knew at least one foolproof way to prove that he wasn’t lying or making things up – or crazy. He made sure to help his partner clean himself up but didn’t give the man time to slip in to the trousers he reached for, instead pulling them towards the bathroom with no clothes on.

Mirrors were a rarity in his home. Even after all this time he still found the experience uncomfortable and so he did his best to minimize the reflective surfaces in his home and stayed away from them when possible each time he ventured in to the human world. Leading Tenzou in front of the mirror and flicking the light on, he gave his partner time to adjust his eyes and then gestured across the sink.

“What do you see?” he asked knowingly.

Tenzou gaped, his own lonely reflection staring back at him.

“What…the…”

“Now do you believe me?” Kakashi smirked to himself and bent his head to nip at the man’s shoulder.

“That’s not possible. It’s…a trick mirror or something. Has to be. This just can’t be possible.”

Kakashi sighed and cautiously wound his arms around the other man, wary of a negative reaction. When he got none he assumed it safe to nuzzle in to the warm space just behind one ear. “I’ve been honest, pet. I am a vampire. You’ve seen my fangs. You remarked once that I had no heartbeat you could find. Now you can see that I have no reflection. What more proof do you need?”

He watched one of Tenzou’s hands come up to trace the bite marks his teeth had left, already closing over as the healing agent in his saliva did its work.

“Is there…any other truth you’ve told me that I didn’t believe?”

“Oh, who knows,” Kakashi replied flippantly. “You believed me when I said I loved you, didn’t you?”

That certainly caught Tenzou’s attention. Finally he looked away from the mirror, turning in the circle of Kakashi’s arms to regard him with an inscrutable expression that Kakashi would have called ‘thoughtful’ were he not suddenly so terrified of the idea that he might be thinking of leaving.

Panic gathered at the base of his spine and rose slowly, inch by inch, minute by minute, until finally Tenzou spoke again.

“Yeah, I believe that.”

“Good, good, I was prepared to do a lot of convincing on that front. It’s nice to know I don’t have to go through all that effort.” He smirked and hoped the relief coursing through him didn’t show too obviously. Whether it did or not he wasn’t sure, too distracted with the way Tenzou let out a bark of startled laughter.

“Oh yeah, wouldn’t want you to have to put in some effort. God forbid!”

Kakashi nodded. “So glad you understand, pet.”

“Uh huh. Jerk.” Tenzou shook his head, then paused and took one more peek over his shoulder at the mirror. “You know, I think I’m compartmentalizing. I’ll probably have a couple of panic attacks later when this all sinks in so just…try and be patient when this hits me later, alright? Maybe remind me that you love me a few times. That can be your effort.”

“You ask so much,” Kakashi drawled.

“Terribly sorry about that. Oh, no wait, no I’m not. I’m not sorry at all.” Tenzou’s mockingly smug expression was ruined when he suddenly yawned, turning his head so as not to throw his breath right in Kakashi’s face.

“Looks like it really is time for the human to go to bed.”

Snapping his jaw shut, Tenzou frowned. “You really don’t sleep…”

“Nope.”

“So you just…lay there and stare at me all night?”

It was Kakashi’s turn to bark out a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, how boring. I clean and tend to the garden and sometimes I pop in to town to do some late night shopping. The night life in this town is quite lively, I assure you.” Tenzou eyed him to make sure he wasn’t joking and then shrugged.

“Right. Well you’re right about me needing rest, I suppose. Maybe I can panic in my sleep and get it over with.”

His blasé attitude was a clear cover for the confusion below but Kakashi appreciated it all the same, appreciated that Tenzou wasn’t rejecting him outright. It was a little annoying that after thinking himself free of these conversations he was going to be subjected to them after all months down the road and yet…and yet he found that he didn’t mind too much. A few words couldn’t hurt him and he would put himself through worse to keep the man in his arms.

“Let’s put you to bed then,” he purred, scooping Tenzou up and encouraging those long legs to wrap around his waist. His actions earned him a roll of the man’s eyes but it was worth it to watch that expressions clear and know that everything would probably turn out just fine.

As they made their way back in to the bedroom, as he tumbled them both down in to the sheets and made certain that his partner was comfortable and covered with enough blankets to stay warm, Kakashi found that he was actually looking forward to tomorrow in an odd way. Not for the awkward conversations they would likely be having but for after. Whatever questions Tenzou had they would know each other better afterwards and anything that would help him keep the man he had fallen so dangerously in love with was a good thing in his books.

[blueandgoldstella]

Hello everybody! I’m Sarah, I am 23 years old, and live in EST. This is my beloved OC, Stella. She happens to be one of my all time favorite characters of mine and I hope that y’all love her as much as I do. Below the cut is all the information you should know about her! I will say, there is some potentially triggering content so please be noted of that!

[ LAUREN JAUREGUI ] ( ✶:･ﾟ♦ — ▓ hey, guess what - i just saw STELLA VALDEZ by sweet water river, you know they’re SIXTEEN and a HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT who identifies themselves as FEMALE i sometimes hear people describe them as RECKLESS and STUBBORN but others say that they’re LOYAL and ADVENTUROUS . me personally? i’m wondering what they were doing at the scene of jason blossoms murder, alone.

TW: child neglect, child abuse, gang violence, murder, alcoholism, drug abuse 

 Alright, to start off firstly - Stella is what I’d like to consider a mixture of Kat Stratford and Fiona Gallagher. She’s also totally the mom friend and momma bear of the younger serpents lbr

FAMILY UPBRINGING/DYNAMIC:

 She is the oldest out of six children. Yes, six children. She has three brothers and two sisters.The birth order of the Valdez family is as follows: Stella (16 years old), Nick (13 years old), Avery (10 years old), Serenity  (7 years old), Evan (3 years old) and Rowan (4 months old).

The Valdez family has ultimately been labeled as that family on the Southside that ‘never stops growing’.  Basically, you blink - and there’s another member of that family.

Growing up, Stella has never came from a life of privilege. She’s never known of the concept of a trust fund or a comma in her bank account. For her, it always too small of clothes. Too cold of nights.  Too hungry of mornings. To be frank, she’s dirt poor. Always has been poor.

A majority of her younger years consisted of moving around, quite a bit. The places she grew up and lived in prior to Riverdale were not great by any means. They hardly had any furniture or personal belongings. They often consisted of a two bedroom apartment (if they were lucky) where Stella would find herself sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag because her family couldn’t afford actual beds. She wouldn’t actually have her own bed to call her own until she was over 10 years old.

She is of Cuban decent, having been born and spending the first years of her life in Miami, Florida.

Her parents grew up in the same neighborhood with one another, becoming close as teenagers, eventually starting to date once they were at the age of 16/17.

Her dad has had a criminal record ever since he was a young teen. Having been in and out jail throughout his life, even when he was a juvenile. He joined a gang within Miami when he was around the age of 13/14. As he grew older, he’d become more engulfed into gang life and what it involved.

Contrary to popular belief, Stella’s dad wasn’t always a terrible person or father. Yes, he has always done sketchy things but it was always because he needed to feed his family and provide for them.

When Stella was 5 years old and Nick was around the age of 3, they’d kiss Florida goodbye. One night, seemingly out of the blue, her dad came home late, extremely distressed, physically in bad shape, and shaken up, Stella and Nick had no idea what was going on, but they were told by their mom and dad to pack up enough things that would fit in the van and that they had to go. Completely fleeing the place they had been living at.

Unknown to them, their dad had an altercation with a rival gang that turned deadly. The rival gang members were trying to jump one of his ‘boy’s and Stella’s dad wasn’t going to have it. Having grown up with his fellow gang members, he had to be loyal to his guys. He ended up killing one of the members in the rival gang. Being afraid that his actions would put him and his family at risk, he had no other choice than to flee.

The death of the rival gang member eventually lead to her father becoming an alcoholic. This was a turning point in not only his life, but his family dynamic. This was a point in Stella’s life when she knew something changed and her parents weren’t truly her parents anymore. To this day, Stella still doesn’t know her dad killed a man.

When they fled Florida, they had little to nothing with them. They had very few belongings and no home. Their financial situation was at an all time low and for the next almost 3 years of her life her family was basically homeless; living out of the Friday van. She had dealt with temporary homelessness before, having to sleep in the family van for a few days or weeks at a time at the most. But, this would soon become months at a time. Stella had no idea where they were headed, but she knew Florida would never be their home again. They were lucky if they could spend a few nights at a time at homeless shelters and such. During this period in her life, she’d go days without eating full meals and the food she did have, she’d find giving to her siblings.

Before finding their way to Riverdale, her parents would fall into addictive tendencies, not putting the needs of their kids before that. This was a turning point for her when she came to realize that nine times out of ten, her parents were going to put their addictions before themselves. If she wanted to survive, she’d have to provide for herself and for her younger siblings.

She has learned to become a humble person and be thankful for the things that she does have. Even if it might not be much, she knows there is probably somebody way worse off than her. Living in the Sunnyside trailer park feels like luxury compared to the living conditions she was so used to during her childhood. 

Nobody knows much about Stella’s past prior to moving to Riverdale. It’s not like she’s ashamed of it, she just doesn’t want to remember that low point in her life, or for people to take pity on her. (Of course, I HC that some people would obviously have to know about her troubled upbringing, but I can’t imagine it would be all of Riverdale, nor the Southside).

Officially moved to the Southside of Riverdale when she was 9, almost 10.

Throughout her childhood, her parents have had on and off custody of her siblings. CPS has had to step in and turn her family upside down more than once. With her mom being an on and off drug addict and her dad having drinking issues, it has only created chaos.

As of right now, her mom is currently not in the picture. She ditched her family shortly after the birth of her sixth child. Her dad’s drinking habits has increased due to her absence (they were under control for a bit, long enough for him to find stable work within Riverdale. Now, they are getting out of hand once more, him on the verge of loosing the job he currently has). Also, her dad’s anger has worsened and he has chosen to take it out on his oldest daughter while he is strung out. Currently no one knows about the abuse she is suffering at home and Stella wants to keep it that way. If anybody were to get too involved, that could mean the kiddos getting taken away from her.

OTHER INFORMATION:

Stella is actually extremely smart and a borderline genius. She has always done well in school without trying hard. It’s all come natural to her. She has a 4.0 GPA in school and her teachers have high expectations for her.  

Stella has found ‘creative’ and ‘different’ ways to make money for her family. This includes doing other people’s homework/writing papers for them,  pick-pocketing, stealing, and scamming people out of money (with the help of her adorable little siblings). The ways she sees it - when you’re poor, the only way to make decent money is to steal it or scam it.

The girl, over the years, has found herself developing a love for cooking (mostly baking).  Aside from her non-conventional ways of making money, she works part time at a bakery on the Southside. It’s a job that she actually enjoys and she gets to score free bread and sweet-treats for her family. 

Along with baking, she loves to read. This girl can finish a book in what seems like seconds. She’s not really picky with genre's, ultimately just loving the escape that books bring to her. You can usually catch her reading a book in the mornings on her front porch of her trailer, cigarette and coffee alongside with her. 

She has dreams of possibly going to college and ultimately doing some good with her life. Either wanting to become a lawyer, working in the foster care system, or going for a business degree to open up her own bakery. But, even though she could get into some good colleges the thought of doing anything after HS doesn’t seem like a reality for her. She doubts she’ll be able to leave the Southside, as sad as it sounds. Plus, she has had the lingering thought of when she officially turns eighteen, becoming an official guardian (or possibly fighting to fully adopt) her younger siblings. She vowed to herself a long time ago that her family was going to come before anything, including herself. Her siblings future and well-being are more important than her own. All she wants is for them to have a wonderful future as they grow older and she is willing to do whatever it takes to do so. Even if it means putting herself on the back burner and not doing the things she, deeps down, desperately wants to achieve and accomplish for herself. 

The Serpents have became the family she never knew she needed. She’s always been close to her southside neighbors and such, but eventually found herself joining when she was a young teen (age 14). She’s fully involved with them now and would do anything for her fellow Serpents.  She’d literally take the shirt off her back for her Southside family (but especially the Serpents). Even if her trailer may be tiny and always chaotic, her door is always open for a place to crash, to eat, or the such.

She’s never ‘too’ fond of the Northsiders due to have always been judged by them due to her lack of money and large family.

She drives an extremely old and beat up ‘mom van’ that she named Clifford. She can be seen toting around her younger siblings in it with pride. Please note though: Stella is a terrible, terrible driver. This bitch is constantly running over curbs and such. It’s a shock she passed her driving test in the first place.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #213

"there's a voice in my head, says i'm better off dead, but if i sing along a little fucking louder to a happy song, i'll be all right."

Are there popsicles in your freezer right now? No. Ice cream? No. Is there a lamp in your bedroom? Well, two heat lamps for Kaiju and Venus. Would you prefer eating jello or pudding? Pudding. After washing your hair, do you put any products in it? No. Last time you ate a salad? Yikes, it's been a long time... Can you name 2 books of the Bible? Uhhh Luke and Revelations? Do people usually think your brother is handsome? I don't know, I haven't lived with him since I was a kid, and he doesn't live in my state. So we don't know the same people. Have you ever crawled thru a vent? Not to my memory. Are there toothpicks in your kitchen? They're in the bathroom. How many living grandparents do you have? One. Do you eat more than 3 meals a day? No; I don't even always have three. Do you know how old your house is? I believe it was made in the '70s. Do you think you have great potential for success? Meh. Have you applied any lipstick, chapstick, gloss, etc to your lips today? No. Would you rather have tan or pale skin color? Pale. Sometimes I hate it, but I like it more overall. Especially when you're a goth at heart know what I'm sayin'. Last time you entered a high school? Probably my sister's graduation. Last time you rode a bike? It's been years, dude. Probably not since high school. Do you drink your water from the tap? You couldn't pay me to. Our water is technically clean, we've had it tested, but dead serious, the hot water smells like rotten eggs. I'm pretty sure Mom said it's something about the salt content in the pipes. But nevertheless, mind over matter would nooot work. Is there any kind of design on your socks? I'm not wearing socks. Have you ever had an ice cream cake for your birthday? No, I'm not a fan. Do you use dryer sheets? Yes. Do you like Subway? Yeah. What was your worst mistake in your life? Letting a guy become god, the entire universe, and more to me. Is this year the best year of your life? Oh, hunny- Is there someone in your life you wish you never met? I don't think so. Did you sleep well last night? I never do. I always wake up at least once. What’s the last song you heard? "Happy Song" by Bring Me The Horizon is on repeat. What is your favorite line from a TV show? I don't have a clue. Any current family issues? No. Who is the last friend you spent time with outside of school? Summer and I talked for a while at my niece's b-day party a few days back. What do you think of your mother? Your father? Your siblings (if there are any)? I love them. There's one sister I don't know so can't really say anything on her, then I do have another sister who, if I can assume via Facebook interactions, can't be too fond of me. But I could be mistaken with my habit of said assuming... Who/What is one person/thing that had the biggest impact on your life? Who: Jason. What: my mental health. What is the biggest problem in your life right now? How isolated I am and void of purpose I feel. What is one band that you find yourself going back to again and again? You mean like, stop liking but then get back into? None, I think. Have you ever had a crush on someone of the same gender as you? Yes. Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender as you? Yes. Do you and your dad get along? Yes. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive for? Idk. Can you see your purse right now? Yes. Are you wearing any perfume? What kind? No. Are there products in your hair? No. Have you ever eaten cat food? I don't think so, though I wouldn't be surprised as a kid. How many pets do you have? Six. Do you actually like them? All but my sister's dog. I can't stand him. Do you have one best friend who is always there for you? My girlfriend. Do you wear skirts a lot? I never do. I hate my legs. Do you basically live in jeans? I have zero jeans. Do you wear sweatpants a lot? Not really; if I'm not in pjs, I'm usually in dance or yoga pants. How many pairs of jeans do you think you have? Zero. Do you like hoodies? Yeah. Big ones or the form fitting kind? Bigger ones. Did you ever actually have a rubber duck? I think I did. Are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets? I go back and forth, lol. But no, I have regrets. Do you love your computer? It's got a few issues, but yeah. Do friends or family come first? Family of the heart, anyway. Us sharing blood doesn't mean shit to me, honestly. What’s your lucky number? I don't believe in "lucky" numbers. Who were the last 5 people you spoke to? I'll include via technology because otherwise I have no clue. Mom, Sara, Emma, and two women interested in adopting Kaiju. Do you have the same password for everything? No. Do you get shy around the person you like? Sometimes. What color is your phone? Dark navy. Do you prefer pens or pencils? Pencils. Do you like peanut butter? Yes. If you could live forever, would you? Hell no. Do you talk in your sleep? A lot. What was the last thing you regretted? Probably depression binge-eating something. Are you any good at cutting hair? Never tried. Do you like your yearbook picture this year? N/A What was the last YouTube video to make you laugh? Ummm there was something last night, but idr what. Do you like tomatoes? No. Do you have a pool? I wish. How would you describe your style? Too poor and lazy to be a goth so dresses in whatever is at the top of my drawer tbh lmao. Do you still talk to any of your exes? One. Have you ever been arrested? No. What was the last thing you watched on TV? I don't watch TV by my own volition anymore and there's not even a TV in my room, so... I really don't know. Do you have a tan? Even the Irish are ashamed of me. What was your most embarrassing moment? Who knows. I'm so easily humiliated and affected by it that I can remember times I've been even remotely embarrassed as far back as pre-k. Do you fall for people fast? No. Do you tell your parents everything? No. Are you quick to judge? Depends. Not generally. When was the last time you crawled through a window? I have zero clue. Are you scared of spiders? Most, yes. What would you do if the doctor told you that you were pregnant? Have a full-blown panic attack despite that being physically impossible. Do you plan on moving within the next year? It'd be nice, but I estimate it'll be around two more years. Have you been to a baby shower? Yeah. How many cars can fit in your driveway? Hm. A few, since the parking area behind the house is decently-sized. Are you taller than your mom? No. Are you a cuddler? Yes. Sleep on your back or stomach? My stomach/upper torso kinda to the side. Think of the last time you were angry. Why were you angry? I don't remember. Though I know I was mad recently. How long has it been since you had sex? Almost four years. Who was the last person to call you babe? Sara. Last reason you went to the ER? My sister got in a car wreck. Have you ever taken pictures in a photo booth? Yeah. When was the last time you shaved your legs? It's been maaaany months. What facial cleanser do you use? Biore. Do you use a blowdryer? No. If someone wanted to know what you smelt like, what should they smell? Dogs and cats lmao. Have you ever cheated on the significant other that you have now? No. For that one week a month, do you hate being a woman? Still rather be a woman. Favorite underwear brand? Idk. Last thing you bought at the mall? A book. Do your parents like your boyfriend/girlfriend? Yes. What if an ex asked to be back in your life? Aaron: We've never had issues, we just drifted apart. It'd be weird for him to ask that, but I mean, sure? Juan: I don't know. Probably not. Jason: I REALLY don't know. We could probably be friends at a distance. Tyler: No, I think. Girt: He's still in my life. If you’re on a laptop, how much charge does it have right now? It's charging and only tells me the minutes until it's at full charge. Last gift you received? I don't know. Lesson you recently learned? I absolutely cannot work in a busy environment. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Probably ketchup. What is a field of study that is of your interest? Zoology. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Thinking too hard on what the appropriate amount of eye contact is. Have you ever laid in a hammock? Yeah. What time of day do you feel mostly at peace? Morning. How has the weather been treating you lately? It's way too fucking hot and humid. Have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? How did you cope? We've had numerous cats be hit by cars. It was always sad, but I mean, I got through it. Especially as I was just a kid and didn't quite fathom how serious death was, nor did any cats I was SUPER attached to die that way. What can you go a day without doing? Going outside. What can’t you go a day without doing? Using some form of technology. Talking to Sara. Who do you spend most of your time with? No one. I'm usually alone. Do you have a favorite classical composer? No. What type of quality is a must-have in a friend? A caring heart. Have you ever eaten a zucchini? A fried one that was sliced into chips. What type of art would you hang up in your room? Dark art or fandom-related stuff. What goes good with a nice cold glass of milk? Oreos omggggg. What fruit is too sweet to you? None, I think? How much money did your last vacation cost? I don't even remember my last vacation. Have you ever taken a physics class? Yeah. What are your thoughts on celebrity idolization and ‘fangirling/fanboying?’ Oh boy, I can't talk shit here for obvious reasons lmao. What is the messiest area in your home? I'm not sure... I haven't been in my sister's old room in forever, and I can't remember if it's empty or not. If it is empty - hell, even if it isn't -, the answer's probably the laundry room. Who was the last person you called? My mom. What’s your favorite computer game genre? Horror is my favorite game genre period. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Well, Mom had mixed feelings about Juan, but so did I. She didn't not like him, though. Do you take public transportation to work? N/A. Public transport doesn't even come here. What extracurricular activities did you do when you were growing up? Soccer for one season (I hated it), softball, basketball, briefly cheerleading, and dance. Has anything unusual happened to you recently? Idk. I don't think so. Do you like chicken korma? I have no clue what that is. What was the last type of tea you drank? I never drink tea; I hate it. Have you ever been severely mentally ill? Yes. Where is the most interesting place you could go that’s within day-trip distance from your house? Stealing previous answer: Washington D.C. Do you ever rearrange your furniture? No. Have you received financial help from your parents in the past 5 years? Lol I'm still financially dependent on them. Are you a fast or a slow eater? I am an extremely fast eater. I'm not messy or anything, I just, eat how I feel is normal? Just chew until you've done so enough to swallow. What room(s) of your house did you last vacuum? Mine. How old were you when you had your first relationship? My first "real" relationship started at 15. I had a middle school bf for just like... a month or so, but that was all puppy-dog love. Why did your last relationship end? I verified that I didn't like him romantically, and I also found I was just too guarded. In our four months of dating, I got no closer to him than I was from the start. I wasn't ready to date a guy again. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? No idea. Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? No. Do you live in a high cost-of-living area? No. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? Ew, no. Do you ever feel like someone would be disappointed to see your body or are you comfortable with your body enough where you don’t think that? I fucking hate my body and I'm sure anyone else would too. What is your favorite flavor of Monster? I don't like Monster. Do you follow your head or your heart? Both, I guess. It depends. How do you act under pressure? Did somebody say PANIC?!?!?!?! Do you ever call people just to hear the sound of their voice? No. Do you ever look back at your yearbooks? No. It'd probably depress me. Have you ever ran from the police? No. Have you ever written on someone’s face in your yearbook? Ha ha yeah, back as a kid... Are you double jointed? No. Who was the last person to yell at you? Mom. What is your favorite stuffed animal that you own? My first stuffed meerkat I named after Zaphod from MM. Or my moose Brownie. Do you have any trophies? Somewhere. Do you work out? No. What grade are you in? I’m not in school. Do you like screamo music? No. Let me hear words, please. If I learn the lyrics, I can /sometimes/ enjoy the song, though. What does your wallet look like? It's rectangular with a Harley Quinn design. Do you have any hickeys on you? No. Is weed a drug? *Technically*, by definition, yes Who’s the first person you turn to when you need a shoulder to cry on? Mom or Sara. Would you cheat on someone for revenge? Or if they wouldn’t find out? No, that's fucking stupid. If you got pregnant right now, would you keep the baby? If I was, God forbid, raped, I don't think I could. If I had unprotected sex willingly, I truly think pregnancy would traumatize me, but I'd probably go through with it and put it up for adoption. I'd want to take responsibility for my actions. Does your family have a secret? No. Are you prejudice against any groups of people? No. If someone gave you a houseplant, would you keep it? Yeah, to be nice. That fella wouldn't live long, though. When/where are you most likely to sing? In the car. Are there any exercises that you do regularly? I'm trying to get in the habit of planking every day since it works out your whole body. Would you ever wish to explore a cave? HELL YES!!!! If you had a son right now, what would you name him? Probably Damien. Who names their son after a Markiplier character? Me. But real talk, I like the name. Do you own a desktop or a laptop? A laptop. Have you kissed more than three guys this year? I haven't kissed any guys. Who’s with you? Mom's on the couch outside my door. Can you use chopsticks? I highly doubt it, especially because I have tremors. When did you last go to an amusement park? Oh, wow. I actually think this was shortly before Jason and I broke up. So 2015. Are there certain things that can’t be joked about with you? Don't you fucking dare joke about rape, retardation, suicide, or self-harm. What would you do if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both females. We can't. Your phone is ringing. It’s your ex. What do you say? I don't have any of my exes' numbers, so I'd answer it and say "hello?". Are any of your texts in your inbox locked? A couple from Sara. If there were no letters on the keys on your keyboard, could you still type? Yes; I don't look at the keyboard when I type. Have you ever dated someone longer than a year? Twice now. Do you currently have a scar? I have a lot. Have you ever seen somebody get shot? No. You have $5 and need to buy snacks at a petrol station. What do you buy? I mean, it depends on what I'm up for. Usually Reese's or something sour. If you were reincarnated as a sea creature, what would you want to be? Probably a dolphin. What do you order most off the internet? Clothes. Describe the last time you were injured? So I have this awful habit of tearing my fingernails when they get long, and I peeled it way too short. Rock concert or symphony? Y'all know I'm picking rock. What is the wallpaper of your mobile phone? Mark and Chica, and my home screen is Sara and me. Most recent movie you’ve watched at the cinema? Detective Pikachu. Name an actor/actress you’ve had the hots for? Jason Momoa. My straight side is certainly still there, friends. What’s your favorite kind of cake? Red velvet. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? No. Have you ever eaten snow? Yeah. Have you ever done ballet? No. Do you listen to classical music? No. Do you watch Spongebob? I don't watch TV period. Do people consider you intelligent? Those in my life seem stuck on high school me, when I was really smart. I don't think I am anymore. What curse word do you use the most? "Fuck," oops. Would you ever date someone covered in tattoos? Well yeah, I'm probably gonna BE that person one day, lmao. What’s the way people most often mispronounce any part of your name? It's impossible to mispronounce my name... The only thing that sometimes happens is my name is misspelled.

[imgilmoregirl]

The Secret Affair

AO3 Link

Notes:  Ah-ha! Look at this big chapter! I'm kind of proud of my work here. I've tried to make it sound as realistic as fiction possibly can so I hope you guys like it!

Chapter Six

It was Thursday night, the weirdest heat wave of all times still punished Storybrooke and the nearest towns with no forecast to when it would end. The large windows of Isabelle French’s bedroom were open and the fan was working on it’s maximum, but it still seemed pretty hot in there for her and one of her closest friends, Jasmine. They were sat on the floor, books and pieces of paper surrounding them as the girls wrote the most important things about their latest classes and made questions to each other in an attempt to have everything covered for their Chemistry test.

"So,” started Jasmine, looking up from her notebook to take a look at her friend for the first time in long minutes, “are you really babysitting Neal Gold tomorrow?"

"I think so," Belle answered with a shrug, reaching for her bottle of water and taking a sip.

She grimaced when she noticed that what once was a perfectly cold drink was now a hot waste of water. The girl pulled it away and focused on Jasmine’s inquiring glare. Her arched eyebrow let it clear that something was coming.

"You think?"

"Mr. Gold and I haven't been talking for the last two days so I'm not really sure if he still wants me to do it or not."

"Oh, what have you done, Bells?"

It was a simple question, anyone could tell, even Belle herself, but to her tired, irritated ears it even sounded like an offense. She threw her hands up, letting them fall back on her thighs with a loud clap that startled the other girl a bit, but Belle couldn’t quite notice it now as she was feeling a hot wave of anger taking her whole body.

"Nothing! Jesus, Jas, I thought you were the only one in this town who was not judging me,” she complained, feeling her eyes burning with nonsensical, unshed tears. "Even Ruby and my father have suspicions about the two of us!"

"Slow down, girl, that's not what I've said," Jasmine defended herself. "What I meant is that you're clumsy, I thought you could have broken something expensive and he was angry."

"Ah, yes," Belle murmured, now completely ashamed of her own behaviour. "I'm sorry, I'm exasperated. Must be the Chemistry test."

Jasmine only snorted and closed up her notebook, starting to gather her things and put most of them back to her backpack, leaving only her notepad and a pen on her lap.

"Well then, we should study because it's almost eight and I can predict my father calling me at any second now."

Of course, her father, the school, their test. Belle wasn’t focusing in any of it when Jas suddenly decided to speak up, actually, she was thinking about the taste of Liam Gold’s lips and the way they moved in synchrony with her, however, she had to come back to reality before she lost herself to a fantasy that clearly wasn’t happening a second time.

"Teen drama," the brunette murmured to herself. "I cherish it now."

...

Although she was expecting to come home after school, Belle had told her father she was babysitting for the entire weekend – she didn’t say who exactly she was watching, obviously – and prepared a bag with clothes and other essential, that would stay in Ruby’s recently fixed car during their classes. However, right when she was leaving for school, Belle found the envelope Milah Gold had obviously dropped there for her.

A roll of her eyes followed the quick, exigent and careless note she had left, because as someone who knew exactly what was a good mother, Belle could tell that Milah wasn’t one. She didn’t get to that conclusion just by remembering about her own mother’s lovely and preoccupied behaviour, but by gathering the memory of all the amazing mothers and grandmothers of Storybrooke. None of the good ones paid their children’s nanny’s like this, nor left the town without making sure they weren’t going to be safe and cared for.

That one small event had made a new, strange rage settle on Belle’s chest during the whole day and even when she picked the sweet Neal Gold up from school, smiling to him and offering the boy a pack of chocolate chip cookies, she was still feeling it and needing to scream to someone just to relieve the stress. It probably was the reason why they reached Mr. Gold’s shop so quickly that afternoon.

The sign was turned open and she swung the door open with no hesitation, bringing the little boy along with her, his hand tucked in hers with a security that made her heart ache. Most children weren’t so fond of strangers and if Neal was, it was probably because he wasn’t receiving enough attention at home.

"Belle?" Liam’s voice took her away from her musings, making Belle look up to see his surprised eyes focused on the boy she had brought. "What are you doing here with Neal?"

"Well, your wife left an envelope by my door this morning with my payment and the keys to your house, so I guessed I was the one who had to pick him up from school," she answered with a shrug, trying to keep herself as calm as possible, knowing that she should mind her own business and not be angry at her boss’ wife in any way. "We just came by to say hello and ask you if there is any routine I should follow with Neal or if I should just do things my way."

Gold blinked, astonished. Leaving the watches with which he had been working, Liam walked towards them, leaving heavily on his cane as he kneeled in front of his son and allowed the little boy to happily throw his arms around him – not even fussing when some cookie crumbs fell to his perfectly clean suit.

"Do as you prefer, dearie," he told her as he petted Neal’s hair and pressed a dry kiss on his cheek. "You, my boy, be good to Ms. French alright?"

Ms. French, again they were back at it. But if Liam Gold wanted to play this game and pretend there was nothing happening, she was going to follow it. When she was Ms. French to him, he would be Mr. Gold to her.

"I'll eat all my vegetables and go to bed when she says so," Neal said, waving his head promptly.

"You're adorable," Gold laughed, tickling his chin and making Neal giggle.

Yeah, Belle was definitely right, Neal’s lack of affection came from his mother not his father.

"I've said that a thousand times on our way from school to here," she agreed. "I could spend my whole week with your son and I wouldn't be tired of him."

When Liam looked up at her she felt that weird thing again, as if the world had stopped and a thousand damned butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. She had to remember herself how to breath as Gold pulled Neal down to the floor and stood up with some effort.

"Uh, I think Milah must have the guest room ready for you," he said in that weirdly polite tone of voice again, the sweet moment between them, clearly getting to na end. "There is a bathroom there you can use too and feel free to eat or prepare anything in our kitchen."

"Alright, thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Gold," Belle replied nodding for him. "Should we expect you for dinner?"

"No, darling, I'm going to be late here, so if you please, put Neal down before I arrive," he explained as he turned away, making her heart race with the word darling. Liam picked up the very same black folder he used every last week of each month and waved it toher. "Rent time."

"Ah, good luck with that, I hope the nuns have their payment in hands."

"So do I," he answered with a smirk.

And all of the sudden the reality of the situation hit her hard. Belle was spending the whole weekend in his house, all alone, expect for his child. She swallowed hard as she felt her hands trembling a little with the uncertainty of how she should act for the next two days.

"Papa,” Neal called and the two of them immediately looked down at him, both relieved to have something else to think about. “Can you read the bunnies for me today?"

"Oh, my boy, papa will be late today, but I bet Ms. French can do it for you."

"Sure," Belle confirmed. "Which book is that?"

"One about a father and a son who loved each other more than anything," Gold whispered, touching his boy’s cheek and smiling in a way that took Belle’s breath away. "Neal will show it to you."

"I'm excited to see it," she said, taking Neal’s hand again. "Let's go, buddy."

Neal nodded, following her with bouncy steps. When they were at the door, ready to leave, the turned around, waving back at his father and pulling another grin to Belle’s face.

"Bye, papa!"

...

Taking care of Neal was easy, Belle soon realised. He was quite a nice child, unlike most of the ones she had watched ever since she was fourteen, he would do the things she said and only insist a tiny bit to do what he actually wanted. In the end he was in bed by eight after a lovely night reading that she enjoyed as much as he did.

Gold’s house was another whole subject. Of course she had already seen it on the outside and knew how huge it was, but once Belle entered it, she had a big surprise. Not just because of the warm, dark colours of the walls, floors and furnitures, but because it was full of interesting objects and books that called her attention from the first moment she stepped in there.

Every room seemed to be bigger than her whole house, darker, even with all lights switched up and fuller. She knew it must be a matter of personal taste, but she concluded that the house felt quite sad and depressing. Neal’s bedroom was the only happy and colourful corner she found, the rest could have been taken from a horror movie for all she knew.

There wasn’t much life there, either. Lots of trinkets, just like in Gold’s shop, but not life. The curtains were made of a heavy velvet that gave her the impression that they were barely touched by anyone in there, she only found two photographs, one a huge portrait of Neal in a younger age that was hanging above the fireplace and the other, a very smaller portrait that could have gone unnoticed if she hadn’t been taking an attentive look at all the stuff gathered in a glassware. It was a family picture with baby Neal wrapped in Gold’s arms, but the strange thing about it was that no one looked really happy, specially Milah.

If she could, Belle would have spent the whole night just opening cabinets, drawers and trying to find what was wrong with the Gold Family, but she knew that she couldn’t do it... Unless she really wanted to anger her boss and that wasn’t an option while she was sleeping under his shelter. Her only alternative then was to prepare something to eat and get ready to bed.

Her bag was laying on a chair at the guest room that had been marked with her name using a piece of paper and a red pen. She changed to her pyjama and check on Neal one last time before going back downstairs and curling herself up on the couch with a book, hearing the sounds of the crickets outside the house as she flipped up the pages, until a different noise came from the main hall and she looked up to see Gold entering the living room.

"You're awake," he said in awe.

"I've pulled Neal to bed about an hour ago so came down stairs to read a bit and eat something," Belle explained, pulling her book down to the coffee table and standing up to look at him. "I still have pasta if you want some."

"No, thank you," Liam quickly turned the offer down. "I'll be in my office if you need me.”

That was it, she thought, the distance he had put between them been explicitly again. She hated it and what she hated the most was the fact that Gold didn’t have the right courage to face the situation and speak to her, just tell Belle what exactly was going on between them and why he thought she should ignore it all, however, Liam wasn’t escaping her this time around.

"Actually, I do."

He was already on his way out, but Liam stopped turning back to look a her with na arched eyebrow and a confused glare on his eyes.

"What?"

"To talk," Belle explained. "I think we need to talk, Mr. Gold."

"About Neal?"

"No, about us," she insisted, elevating her tone of voice a bit. "Listen, you're driving me mad! You kissed me, freaked out and then stopped talking to me!"

"Ms. French, I'm sorry but you came here to babysit Neal, nothing else," Gold answered drily trying to cut her off even before a proper conversation could start.

It was another thing that drove her mad, his stupid, quiet way of facing this. Damn it, didn’t he know that avoiding things could only make them even worse? Well, if all people he knew enjoyed the silence treatment instead of a good talk, then he was going to lean that Belle was a very different kind of woman.

"See? That's what I'm talking about," the girl pointed out, agrily. "You need to stop right now! Whatever you're doing, just stop! I'm not a toy, Liam and I don't want you to play with me anymore. I hate you when you treat me like nothing and calls me Ms. French as if to anger me but, God, I hate you more when you talk softly and make me feel... Those things."

"Feel what, exactly?"

His voice was now low and husky, just as it was when she wanted him the most, which made Belle swallow hard and fight to keep looking at his eyes when they seemed to burn her body with their brown warmth. His gaze was like chocolate and she wanted to drown in it, drink it and have it all for herself.

"I don't know, I never felt it before," Belle confessed. "It's just this need I don't quite understand yet, this clamping in my belly, this heat on my body."

"Belle, I'm a married man," Liam murmured, his eyes closing as he took a step back.

"I know. So why the hell did you kiss me?"

"Because feel the same, ok?" Gold replied in new, dark and loud tone of voice. One that she didn’t quite know yet. "And unlike you, sweetheart, I do understand what it is and it makes me dirty. A monster, in fact."

The self-loathing in his words, the pain she could see in his eyes behind the desire, it was enough to make her take a few steps towards him and reach for his face, touching his cheek and sighing when he leaned against her palm.

"You're not a monster," Belle whispered before standing on the tips of her toes to press a kiss on his lips.

She knew it was a daring move, that he could pull her away and yell at her just like the last – and first - time they had kissed each other, but she was helpless when it came about him. So then, Belle waited. Waited for the moment he would step back, however Liam remained still, just feeling the touch of her lips on his until Belle herself pulled away to look up at him with confusion crossing her flushed face.

"How can you feel anything for an old crippled man like me?" Gold queried when he noticed she was waiting for his reaction.

"I'm not sure,” Belle considered, thinking about the things people were saying around town and how the girls had joked about it many times. “I know my friends would think I'm crazy if I told them, but I feel it."

Her hand was now on the lapel of his suit jacket, just laid there and she took a deep breath as she moved it down a bit aiming the buttons for a reason that must have been completely instinctive, but that attended the needs her body secretly had.

"You shouldn't come this close, Belle."

"Why not?"

"Because you're tempting me and I'm about to eat the forbidden fruit," Liam said, his free hand finally coming up to wrap on her hair as it stopped on the curve of her neck and his eyes seemed to become darker with something that could only be described as lust.

This time she held her breath. Belle had been taught to be a maiden like in the old times, she should wait until she was married to sleep with someone, she shouldn’t be doing this, she shouldn’t be wanting Gold – a married, older man – like this, but, oh dear, she was.

"What if that's what I want from you?"

His mouth opened slightly and Belle thought he would say something harsh to her and tell her to go home, but then his eyes fixed on hers and Liam seemed to get lost. He bent down to capture her lips in the most wonderful kiss she had ever shared before, his calloused fingers caressing the soft skin of her face and throat as their tongues enlaced together before his mouth escaped hers, dropping down to her jaw and taking her breath away as he sucked and kissed, making her knees seem to be jelly.

The sound of his cane dropping down to the floor didn’t interrupt the moment, Belle could only concentrate on his other hand travelling down her body and then under her pyjama shirt, sending electric jolts through her body that made her feel a stronger need. Belle clutched at him and moaned when she felt the hard bulge in his trousers rub a her belly. That was when he finally pulled away a bit, still holding her, but looking extremely uncertain.

"Belle, no..."

"Please, don't stop," she begged. "I have never felt as loved as I'm feeling now. Please don't turn me down."

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, caressing her cheek and tracing her eyebrow with the tip of his nose. "We need to go to the bedroom now."

A ragged breath escaped her in disbelief. They were really doing it.

Belle had time to think, if she wanted, she could still tell him that it wasn’t right and that she should go home, however, the girl knew what the desire they were feeling were leading them right from the start and she never wanted to stop. Smiling at him, she bent down to pick Liam’s cane and offered it to him, allowing her boss to lead them along the corridors, up the stairs and finally to the máster bedroom.

She wasn’t expecting them to go there, Belle thought he would take them to the bedroom she was using for the weekend and not to his wife’s own bed, however before starting a stupid fight, the girl convinced herself that he must have a good reason to do it. She told herself to not think about Milah at all and took a seat on the bed whilst he closed the door and pulled his cane aside before sitting next to her, touching her lower lip with a look that heated her body again, erasing any thoughts from her head.

She leaned forward to kiss him again, this time allowing her fingers to reach for his buttons and open his suit jacket, sliding it down and throwing her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Liam groaned and grabbed her by her bottom, pulling Belle up to his lap and pressing up his hidden erection against her legs. A part of her couldn't quite believe she was wanted by someone like Gold, liked to have the power to make him hard this way and wanted to invest in this daring girl she found in herself so recently.

Gold reached for the ends of her shirt and pulled it up, taking it off and throwing the piece of clothing on the floor in that maddening need of getting each other naked. Belle took no time taking his tie and shirt off too, exposing his slim torso to her hands to feel and eyes to admire. He wasn't the fat, hairy guy people supposed him to be and it excited Belle even more, which made her want to make him feel the same about her, so she reached behind her own back and unhooked her bra, pulling it down and blushing as she watched Gold's reaction.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured softly, cupping her breasts and massaging them in simple awe. "Beautiful Belle... Perfect girl."

Her breath got caught on her throat and tears came to her eyes at his adoration. She loved him, now she could tell for certain, she loved William Gold more than she had ever loved anyone. The moment he captured her nipple between his lips Belle gasped louder than she expected herself to. He sucked and bite and all Belle could do was to gasp repeatedly as she felt herself starting to drip between her legs.

"I need you, Liam."

He looked up at her, realising her nipple with a sinful noise and settled his hands on her thighs as he rested his forehead against hers.

"I need to ask, my darling, are you a virgin?"

"Y-Yeah," Belle answered, hoping it wouldn't make him give up.

However, out of what she thought, what Gold did was to help her to move up so he could slid her shorts and panties down as he kicked his shoes and shocks off before letting her sit back on his lap. Belle was now fully naked and Liam drank down the whole image of her before moving his fingers down to her womanhood, parting her folders and spreading her wetness up to a little hidden place that made Belle's eyes roll back as she moaned against Gold's ear.

"I'm going to show you every way in which a woman can be loved, Belle," Liam whispered softly. "I need to warn you though, the first time will hurt and you may not even enjoy it properly."

Belle cupped his cheeks, feeling the ends of his hair touching her skin with softness, she grinned and kissed his lips before pulling back to look straight at his eyes.

"It doesn't matter," she murmured. "My need is you."

Kissing her neck one last time, Gold laid her down on the bed and unbuckled his belt, finishing undressing in front of her and making Belle's eyes widen when she saw his hard cock. She swallowed hard as she sat back, reaching to touch his tip. He was bigger and longer than she had expected, which made Belle feel a moment of panic, wondering if he would fit inside her, but she bet that most girl felt that way on their first time.

"Lay down, sweetheart," Liam instructed. "I need something before we begin."

He reached for the nightstand on the right side of the bed and opened the drawer, taking a silver package from inside it. A condom. Of course, Belle was a fool, she had forgot she used no birth control and they really needed protection. She watched as Liam slid the condom along his shaft before bending down to cover her body with his. Gold slid his hand down her body, caressing her ever so gently before hooking his hand behind her left knee and pulling it up, them doing the same with the right one, parting her legs so he was in the middle, his erection hanging and brushing against Belle's thigh.

"Are you sure that's what you really want?"

"Yes," Belle answered, firmly. "I want you, Liam. I want everything with you."

She traced the lines of his nose, then under his eyes and up to his hair which she clutched as Liam bent down to kiss her as he reached between them to grab his cock and part her lips with it, running up and down to stimulate that little part of her that made Belle writhe before finally settling himself on her entrance. Gold looked at her eyes then, waiting for that ultimate nod before pushing in inch by inch.

It felt weird, too strange and foreign for her body, she felt herself being opened and it didn't feel as good as it did before, it was just uncomfortable and she held onto Liam's back and shoulder to keep herself still as he continued to push. Her brain seemed to scream that he was to big for that, but somehow, her walls were slowly starting to fit him in, gripping his cock tightly until Gold's tip met her barrier.

Belle bit down her lip, holding him closer and took a deep breath before feeling the last thrust, a scream getting stuck on her throat as some tears fell down from her eyes. It really hurt. Damn it, she didn't see that coming, because as much as she knew it was going to happen Belle wasn't expecting it to feel so bad. It was like a part of her she didn't yet know that existed burned intensively.

"I'm sorry, Belle," Gold whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck. "I'm so sorry."

At first, Belle couldn't answer, concentrated in her own pain and breathing slowly as it started to disappear. It was like tripping on the corner of some furniture and hurting a toe, it was a screaming pain that faded to nothing in a short time. What was left was the welcoming sensation of Liam's cock all inside her.

"That's alright," she murmured. "I'm fine, the pain is gone. You can move now."

Nodding, Gold held himself up on his elbows as he pulled almost all the way back before thrusting back inside. At first it felt uncomfortable again, but slowly it started to become pleasurable. It was a good sensation that warmed her body and seeing Liam move above her, letting out small sounds of pleasure made her want more of what she was getting, but Belle didn't quite know how to ask for it. She loved to be in his arms, to be so close to him and she thought that it was this closeness what she was craving, so the girl wrapped her arms and legs around his body and moved her hips forward to meet his cock halfway when he was thrusting in and out. That increased the amazing aching feeling between her legs, so she did it again and again and when she realised, Belle was rocking against him like a mad woman, blinded by desire.

Soft moans came out of her mouth as they moved faster, bodies dripping sweat and other fluids, Gold's cock hitting places inside her that sent Belle to the stars and back at each thrust. She could feel him becoming erratic with every new movement and the sounds he made, those groans that excited her more than anything, became more constant and louder. Belle felt his body starting to shake as she hit a higher level of pleasure and moaned his name to the room, being carried away in white lights when his pace became madly fast just a few seconds before she heard him groaning and shaking more than ever. Then, everything went quiet.

They laid there, a tangled mess above the red bed covers, breathing hard and holding onto each other for dear life. Gold was the first to move, kissing her lips before pulling out of her and taking the condom off, disappearing in the suit's bathroom with it and coming back a moment later to lay by her side again and pull her closer.

"How do you feel?" Liam queried.

"Like a very tired amount of jelly," Belle laughed. "I loved it, thank you."

"Oh, I know you couldn't know what a good love-making is just by this experience, you'll be sore now, but when you're ready I'll show you how it is to cum and writhe in a really good fuck."

The way he spoke made her cheeks become red and Belle looked away from his eyes, nuzzling her nose on his shoulder as she traced his nipple with her thumb. If she told her friends what she had done on that Friday night, none of them would believe, or worse, Ruby would and then would judge her for the rest of her life.

Belle told herself that nobody's opinion mattered when it came about love, if she and Liam liked each other, they shouldn't let anyone come between then. Unless of course, this person was Milah, his wife, the woman who owned the bed in which she had just lost her virginity.

"Liam," she started, slowly, lifting herself up on her elbow to look into his amazing brown eyes. "What about Milah?"

"I have not slept with her ever since Neal was a baby and even after that, we were about to get a divorce," he murmured. "We shouldn't worry about her, but what I do worry about is you. If someone happens to find out..."

"No one will," Belle promised. "I won't tell anybody, that will be our secret."

He sighed, looking away as he distracted himself by pulling a blanket up over them, covering Belle's naked body and wrapping her as if she was a small child. Liam brushed fingers along his hair, contemplating the determined expression on her face.

"You shouldn't want that, Belle and as much as I have enjoyed our night, I'm really sorry I corrupted you this way."

"You didn't corrupt me, Liam," she sighed, kissing his lips, before rolling on her back and hugging the pillow behind her. "No one decides anything in my behalf. If I am in this bed today was because I wanted to."

A tiny laugh escaped his lips as Liam wrapped his arms around her waist, hiding his face on her hair as peaceful silence came over them and the hours passed by, bringing the comfort of a night of sleep over the two secret lovers.

...

Months later.

"Ms. Lucas, I'm warning you, if anything goes wrong with this plan, it will be all your fault," Sidney Glass stated as they drove down the road that lead to one of Storybrooke's quietest neighborhoods.

Ruby had never quite imagined to find herself inside the car of one of her teachers, however with the madness of the last few days, she should start to accept that anything was possible.

"Yeah, I know, you've said it about five times ever since we left Granny's," she complained, moodily but still as determined as the moment she decided to talk to Mr. Glass that morning and just beg.

"Because I'm worried!"

She sighed. Mr. Glass was definitely one to hide behind the words of a book or a good article, she knew that ever since she first started taking his English classes. Ruby wasn't planning to ask for his help at all, it just happened, she saw him having breakfast and attacked with all the arguments she had, just like she did in her craziest moments. However, she should win a few points with this investment, because it was for Belle and for her best friend, Ruby Lucas did anything.

"Why? Belle is a good student, you've said it yourself and you were already going to offer her a scholarship!"

"I know it, but offering her a scholarship and arranging a house for her to flee away from her father and her lover is a very different thing," he insisted.

"Belle made a mistake, ok? But she is trying to fix it," Ruby replied anxiously. "Jasmine already said she can pay for her stay in any where you get."

"This is still wrong, Ms. Lucas."

Oh, that she knew, but everything concerning Belle French and their last year at High School was utterly and completely wrong. She understood it, Ruby had made her own mistakes, she had broken a few hearts and had also screwed her own reputation around town, but it was what made her want to help Belle so badly. Ruby couldn't let the same happen to her, even more when there was a baby involved.

"It's the blue house," she indicated, mindlessly. "Number 35."

Ruby looked down at her phone, the message app still open with no answer from Belle, but the most concerning, no answer from Jasmine, Dorothy or Archie. She had really fucked up and now none of them would talk to her - well, Jas would only answer anything if the name Belle was written on the message and she was the subject of the shortest conversations they shared ever since they met.

Snorting, Ruby leaned back against the car seat looking up to see Moe French dragging a crying Belle to his van. She didn't think twice, Ruby jumped out of Mr. Glass' car as soon as he stopped and rushed towards them, immediately pulling herself between Moe and Belle, insistly punching the hand he had gripping her arm.

"Hey, release her!"

"Get the hell out of here, Ruby," Moe yelled back. "This is none of your business!"

"You're hurting her!"

"He is trying to make me abort my baby," Belle cried. "Please, Ruby, don't leave me."

"What?" Sidney Glass' voice came from where he was, standing beside his car with wide eyes.

They all looked back at him and Moe finally unleashed his grip on Belle's arm allowing Ruby to pull her away, wrapping her arms around the tiny brunette's shoulders as their teacher approached the florist.

"Mr. French, I'm afraid I need to inform you that you can't force Isabelle to do anything, even if she is your daughter and still seventeen," he said in the coldest voice they had ever heard. "And in fact, I came here today to offer Belle a scholarship and a new home in which she and her baby will be safe and cared for. She will be able to study and give her child a better life."

"Really?" Belle asked between her tears.

"Yes, Ms. French, you're a very smart girl and we are investing in you," Glass smiled. "A friend of mine, Fae, has agreed to open her house for you and watch for your baby once it is born, so you don't have to leave college aside."

Ruby caressed her hair, watching as her smile grew bigger and Moe's face became as red as a tomato.

"You can't come here and offer to take my daughter away from me," Moe yelled at him. "You want from her the same thing Gold did, but I'm not letting Belle continue to whore herself like this!"

"Mr. French," Sidney Glass started very slowly. "What you're saying is a very dangerous accusation and I will have to call the sheriff if you insist in saying things like this. Now, Belle will be eighteen in a few weeks, so if she chooses to come with me, she will be free."

Belle French swallowed hard, taking Ruby's hand and stepping away from her father, walking towards Glass, until she felt secure again.

"You're my tower, father, but I won't be Melina," she started. "I will ran away before it is too late for me and I will never treat my child like you treated me."

Moe looked about to explode with anger, he slammed his fists against his own sides and grunted, but then, he couldn't do anything. His daughter was a free bird ever since she was a little girl, she already knew how to flutter and now she was going to fly away, so all he could do was to watch as she entered Sidney Glass' car and left to never come back.