#yet there it is... and... it'll be hard to convince me otherwise

[medicinemane]

The problem with people who are "right" because they insist they're right, and the only way to be right is to simply perfectly follow their every dictation on the subject unquestioningly is this...

Ok, let's just take it as a given that you're right... the problem here is that if that's what's right I'm afraid I have to dig my heels into being wrong. If you are as righteous and just as you insist you are then I've got no choice but to be the villain because I can't stand what you're saying I'd have to do to be good

Shockingly I even think it's wrong, which is odd because we've already defined it that you're inherently and unassailably right... yet here we are

Worst part is there's a lot of these things where I'm not even full stop against it, I actually might be on their side if they could stop and address a couple of issues I consider kind of important... but they won't, because they're morally right and don't have time for addressing nonexistent issues I'm clearly just dreaming up

Undoubtedly right they are, the defect must surely be my own... and yet here we are. Vile and wicked as it might make me, I still can't just go along with you

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 16

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: suggestive content, little bit of angst, and fluff wc: 2.5k

A/N: sorry for the unprecidented delay in updates! Life got in the way and then I got sick and lost a whole day of writing. 😥

Chapter Selection

🦇BatFam Group Chat🦇

Dick: So Jaybird, how'd she take it?

11:02am

Jason: … I didn't tell her yet.

11:08am

Steph: WHAT??? 😰

11:09am

Tim: 😐 … Do you think a better moment is forthcoming?

11:11am

Jason: You really want to talk to me right now, replacement? After the shit you pulled?

11:12am

Steph: ???

11:13am

Jason: HE KNOWS WHAT HE DID!

11:14am

Dick: Ok, ok! Look, this doesn't have to be a big thing. Just tell her, it'll be fine!

11:15am

Damian: Do not lie, Grayson. It is a big thing, and Todd is not so stupid that he will think otherwise.

11:17am

Babs: You really should tell her soon, Jay.

11:20am

Jason: … Well when is Tim telling Bernard, huh?? They've been dating longer than we have, how is it not Gang Up On Tim Day??

11:22am

Tim: Yeah, I told Bernard. … And he already knew. 😬

11:23am

Dick: … We're gonna discuss that later. Right?

11:26am

Tim: Report's already in the Batcomputer.

11:27am

Babs: … Seriously, Tim??? O.O ????

11:32am

Tim: Hey, hey! Can we get back to Gang Up On Jason Day?

11:33am

Jason: No! I'm working on it, leave me be!

11:36am

Steph: … Given how she handled everything yesterday, what's the issue? Do you think she won't be able to take it?

11:40am

Jason: That's not it at all! … With her I get to be a normal guy. And the second I tell her, that goes away, for both of us

11:41am

Damian: … Granted, I have very little experience with women, but I do think that if she wanted normal, she would have bowed out the second she realized she was talking to a Wayne.

11:43am

Dick: Or when B showed up at the diner

11:45am

Babs: Or when Damian showed up at her apartment

11:46am

Cass: Or after sitting through a dinner with all of us.

11:47am

Jason: 😒 None of you are any help at all

11:50am

After the gala, Jason became determined that I should know how to defend myself. I was incredibly uncomfortable with going to the gym with him, but after a week of assurances he had me at least partially convinced me that no one would bat an eye at me there.

Once he had the green light, he jumped into action. He took me out to get some workout clothes, and we started going to the gym together once a week. I, like most every Gothamite, had taken self defense classes as a kid, so we started with some flexibility improving stretches, strength building, and making sure I still had a grasp on the basics. Every week we trained for a few hours, and Jason would take me out for dinner after.

I would never have expected it, but I actually started to look forward to our gym days. Jason was his most cuddly after training, especially when he was particularly excited about some progress I made. Every time I got a hit in, or blocked one of his, he would beam like the sun itself. The first time I caught him by surprise and kicked him to the ground he actually scooped me up in a bear hug, cheering for the whole gym to hear.

And what's more; his work was so sporadic that it was hard to predict if and when he'd be called away on the average day. He did his best to avoid it when we had plans, but sometimes he just had to go in. But he made arrangements with someone who worked for him so that our gym days were our days, so they very quickly became the day every week where I was guaranteed his undivided attention.

It was all so delightfully domestic. We would spend the night before together, just cuddling though he was slowly getting used to me touching him more. In the morning we made breakfast and ate together in bed. We'd go for a ride on his bike, see what was new at our favorite used book store, have lunch and a walk around the park, and head to the gym. After training we would take quick showers in the locker rooms and bring some take-out home. Sometimes we'd fall asleep in each other's arms, but if he had an early morning at work he would tuck me in with a kiss and head home to get some sleep.

Damian started coming over once in a while as well; as we had discussed, he would text me that he was on his way first. Somehow he never tried to come over when I was at work, and he avoided gym day too. But his visits didn't always correlate with Jason's. Sometimes it was just the two of us, and on those days he slowly started to open up. He would do homework at my kitchen table while I made dinner, we'd play video games or watch movies, and eventually the manor would send a car to take him home. He always grumbled that I didn't need to walk him out, but I wasn't about to let him out of my sight in my neighborhood, and he didn't protest past that.

Eventually he started leaving a set of casual clothes at my apartment. I took him to the cafe down the block, let him pick out snacks at the corner store, and one day we took the bus to the local craft store. He bought a dozen craft kits; crystal growing, shrinky dinks, window decals, little figurines to paint, even a candy making kit. They only made an appearance on days when Jason had to work, and Damian always looked so sweet and relaxed while we played with them, and every time he made me promise not to tell anyone. I wasn't sure what was so bad about his family knowing he played with age appropriate toys, but I always assured him that no one had to know if he didn't want them to. The crafts were always carefully packed away when we were done and tucked into a nondescript box in my hall closet.

Steph, Tim, and Dick all found me on Waynebook, and eventually Steph invited me to join girl's night. That Tuesday I found myself at Babs' apartment with her, Cass, and Steph, watching a movie, eating pizza and popcorn, and painting Steph's nails for her. Dick started sending me memes and safety reports from my neighborhood. I wouldn't even hazard a guess why he was so up to date on my area's crime reports, but I did appreciate the heads up. Tim didn't send me many messages, usually just letting me know when Bruce had been trying to get Jason to bring me by again, but he definitely stalked my profile since he liked a picture from my high school graduation. His stalking tendencies were starting to amuse me more than anything else, so I didn't mention it to Jay. Anything that strained their already turbulent relationship felt like unnecessary information.

Jason took me to see an outdoor showing of the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. He packed a picnic dinner for us, making sure all my favorite foods were available, and brought several blankets and pillows. He held me close and whispered in my ear, quoting along with Mr. Darcy when he confessed his love to Elizabeth; “you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on...”

It was an unusually peaceful day in Gotham; the kind of day that makes the hard ones worth powering through. We drove back to my place with the windows down. I didn't notice when Jason's mood shifted, but I did notice his hands trembling as he unpacked the picnic basket, and him glancing at me next to him. I set a hand over his, frowning slightly; “... Honey?”

“Hm?” He swallowed hard. “Y- yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

“Course. … Course I��m ok, doll.” He smiled softly, kissing my forehead.

“Cause you’re squirming like something’s wrong…”

“No, no! Nothing’s wrong, baby, honest. … Sorry, I just … I wanted to …” He frowned, taking a deep breath. “... We’ve been together for a while, and I … was thinking we could try something tonight?”

I blinked a bit, nodding slowly; “Oh? What did you want to try?”

“...Um … can we … push the comfort zone a bit?” He refused to look me in the eye, blushing bright red. I bit back the urge to giggle at how cute he was being, squeezing his hand instead.

“That could be fun~ … but if anything pushes back-”

He nodded quickly. “We’ll take it slow. And I’ll tell you if I need to stop, promise.”

I nodded, cupping his cheek; “very good. Then, how would you like to proceed?”

“Um … well, … I really like kissing you … I was thinking … maybe we could kiss some more places?”

I nodded, crossing my wrists behind his neck. His hands rested on my hips, stroking in small circles. “That sounds nice. You want lights on or off?”

“... Off will help.” He nodded slowly. “Is that ok?”

I nodded; “of course. Changing one variable at a time is always best practice, right?”

“Oh god…” He chuckled, holding me close. “What is this, some kind of science experiment?”

“I mean, we are experimenting, and it’s not not science - it’s biology and chemistry and psychology, and probably a bit of neurology.” I giggled, leaning in more. “I think the only thing we’re missing is the part where you have to write stuff down for it to be science. … So unless there’s something you’d rather be doing, I guess we could start writing out some lab reports …”

“... You know what, you little dork?” He scooped me up, tossing me casually over his shoulder, and began walking toward the bedroom.

“Woah!” I gasped sharply, giggling; “what?! What’s going on?”

He kicked the door closed behind him and laid me on the bed, leaning over me a bit, his hands trapping me between them on the bed. “I’m going to show you what I’d rather be doing … i- if that’s ok?”

The demanding tone he'd used was making me tingle all over. I bit back a giggle at the cautious way he ended the sentence, nodding quickly. “Sounds good to me~”

I could see a bit of his face in the light from the window, enough to see his eager grin as he dipped down, capturing my lips with his. I cupped his cheek, kissing back hungrily. He moaned softly, pressing his knees to the mattress on either side of my hips. I ran my hands through his hair as he slowly pulled away from my lips, kissing along my jaw to nibble gently on my earlobe. I gasped sharply, shivering at the contact, and he moved on to kiss down the side of my neck.

His lips slowly trailed from my throat down to my collarbone, placing gentle kisses there. “Is this … still ok?”

I panted softly, whimpering, and nodded. “Yeah~ yeah, this is … ooooh Jay~ this is amazing~”

He grinned against my chest, kissing more. His hand slowly made its way to my side, and his fingertips slid under my shirt a bit. “And … this?” He slid his hand a little further.

I shivered hard and nodded. “ohh god, yes~”

His hand caressed my curves as he kissed and gently nipped at my collar. I quickly found myself squirming under him, whining a bit; “yes~ … j- just like that, Jay~”

I squirmed a bit as he explored my soft tummy, pressing his hands into my sides to hold me close. His lips slowly made their way a bit lower, and a bit lower, until they were at the neckline of my shirt. Jason looked up at me, stroking my sides gently.

“Can … um … can I …?” He slid my shirt up ever so slightly.

I nodded quickly, shifting to help him remove it. He tossed it aside and began kissing my cleavage again. His hands fondled and caressed more, making their way up to my breasts. He licked and nibbled there, squeezing gently.

“Ohh fuck~ Jay~”

He groaned softly, nuzzling against me. He nibbled more, holding me close. “Fuck, you're incredible, doll~”

He fondled me more, kissing all over. I panted softly, gently tugging his hair. He purred at that, nipping more. I gasped softly, tugging his hair a bit. “Ow... G- gently, Jay…”

He froze, slowly pulling back. “I … I'm sorry, … I … fuck!” He pushed off the bed, backing up until he was against the wall. He stared at me, wide eyed, as I sat up.

“Take a breath, Jay. It's ok, I'm not hurt. Your teeth are just sharp.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and slowly nodded. “... I … I'm sorry …”

“It's ok, baby.” I held a hand out to him. He slowly walked over to me, letting me pull him down to sit next to me. I stroked his back, kissing his shoulder. “Relax, it's ok~”

“It's not. … I hurt you…”

“Well, mostly you startled me. And when I said ‘ow’ you stopped.”

He sighed softly, burying his face in his hands. “... I … I hate this … I … I don't know how to do this…”

“What do you mean?”

“... I think ... After everything I’ve been through … everything I’ve done … this isn’t what my body is built for … I can cause pain, I can take pain … I don’t know what to do with … pleasure. I don’t know how to give you pleasure. And I don’t deserve to receive it…”

I frowned deeply; “... My love, … you are so incredibly strong, and it’s true that you can take an inordinate amount of pain. But you are not meant for pain. Someone as kind and gentle and caring as you deserves to experience joy, and love, and pleasure.”

“... I don’t know how.” he shuddered, staring into his lap. “... But I want to … I want us to get to be happy together … I want to be able to pleasure you …”

I nodded slowly, chewing on my lower lip a bit. “... Jay, … how did you get so good at fighting?”

“… Years of training?” 

A grin slowly spread across my face as I reached out for his hand. He let me take it, squeezing once. “Exactly. Someone who knew how to fight showed you how it was done. They had you practice punches and kicks, taught you how to shoot, right?” He nodded, slowly looking toward me. “... So why don’t we do this the same way?”

“... What do you mean?”

I cupped his cheek, purring; “you’re teaching me to defend myself. If you’ll let me, I will teach you about pleasure.”

A shuddering gasp ripped through him, and his lower lip trembled a bit as he slowly nodded, leaning into my hand more; “... Y- yes. … Yes, I want that. I … I want to learn. … Please, teach me.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR WORKAHOLIC CHARACTERS WHO PUSH THEMSELVES TOO HARD *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

there's still a lot of work to be done.

i'm not finished with it yet.

i can't give up just yet.

there's nothing noble about working yourself to death.

you think i can't handle this myself?

there's not enough hours in the day.

i realize you think you have to do this.

working like this helps me think.

i'll sleep when i'm dead.

your work ethic scares me sometimes.

i don't need your help.

do you ever sleep?

they need me.

no matter how hard you work, it won't bring them back.

do you realize how crazy that sounds?

i'm not stopping until this is done.

you need to slow down.

i feel like i'm wasting my life.

have you ever taken a vacation?

i can handle this on my own.

i'm nothing without my work.

you're going to get sick if you keep going like this.

you've proven your point.

you're going to work yourself to death.

there are worse ways to spend a life.

you can't keep going at this pace.

i don't have time to rest.

it needs to be done.

do you have any healthy coping mechanisms, by any chance?

there's no time to waste.

i think it's time for you to take a break.

everything was going great until you stopped me.

i can't sleep yet. not until this is done.

i'm the only one who can do this.

at least let me help you.

if i just focus on my work, i don't have to think about anything else.

i'm not asking you to take a break, i'm telling you.

did you really have to interrupt like that?

i'm not budging.

it's my life's work.

you're not going to convince me otherwise.

when was the last time you slept?

i'll help you finish the job if you promise to get some rest.

you're practically falling asleep standing up.

you can finish this in the morning.

let me get you to bed.

don't you get it? it's over!

working yourself to death isn't going to fix anything.

if i don't do it, no one else will.

i wish you would take some time to rest.

i'm not taking a break, if that's what you're asking.

you just broke my concentration, thank you very much.

i'm not going to bed.

i don't know how to quit.

they're counting on me.

too many people rely on me.

i can't disappoint them.

you need a vacation.

i wish you would just listen to me and slow down.

your eye bags have eye bags.

all right, that's it. i'm putting my foot down.

no more excuses.

what do you get out of this? this overworking thing?

without my work... i'm nothing.

no one else is going to step in.

i don't care about me. i care about them.

we have unfinished business.

if i stop now, it'll be like giving up.

i'm a perfectionist. it's in my nature.

better to pour myself into my work than something else.

i wish you would go easy on yourself.

this is very unhealthy.

[misahyochaeng]

“Insider”

(CEO!Mina x Fem!Reader🌧️🔞)

TW's// Smut, Dom!Mina, Sub!reader, CEO!Mina, Clubbing, One night stand, catching feelings, slight angst, Fingering, Bathroom sex, L bombing, Public area, exhibitionism, hair pulling, spanking, Mina is DESPERATE. Mentions of Nayeon and Sana, you and nayeon lowkey have some tension here and there but shh..//

—Flashback—

—"Nggh, M-Mina-nim.. fuck.” Your body shook the bathroom stall, your body gripping Mina's shoulders as you came undone on her fingers.

—"Hmm.. good girl." She helped you ride your high, helping you finish and clean up.

—"No hard feelings, ok?" Mina replied sternly, fixing your appearance and leaving you there at the bathroom stall.

No hard feelings.

—Flashback end—

Those harsh words echoed and panged through your mind. It had been almost a month since your one night stand with the vicious club owner, known for her dark aura and intimidating presence; yet you saw her in her most vulnerable moments, her digits inside you as she took care of the problem inbetween your legs.

You'd promise yourself to not fall in love, but your heart was saying otherwise. You kept stalking her social medias, keeping up with the company club, eyeing events she hosted and thinking about how nice it'd be to go and see her again, maybe experience her fingers inside you again.

—"Fuck.. ughhh i can't, i miss her so much." You complained to your friend Nayeon, head on her lap as she played with your hair, your hands scrolling aimlessly through Mina's feed.

—"Y/N, honey, come on.. It was just a fling, what's so awesome about, her?"

—"Nayeon, you don't get it.. it's THE Myoui Mina, imagine being able to spend the night with the most fucking rich woman in all Seoul? Shit, you'd be crazy like me too!!"

Nayeon rolled her eyes, pinching your cheeks softly as she continued to play with your hair.—"Alright, alright, dummy.. It's noticeable you're hooked."

You nod, getting comfortable in Nayeons lap as you continued scrolling.

You need to see her.

—

On the other hand, Mina was in her office, counting up big stacks of twenty dollar bills, legs resting on her desk as she went through the paper. —"Alright, Sana, here's your payment..."

Mina said as she handed the Japanese a rough stack of cash, her expression cold. —"And the rest i'll be keeping, as promised."

Sana checked and counted her bills, the ones she hardly worked for by dancing. —"Ma'am this is only—"

—"Am i getting a complaint, Minatozaki?" She snapped back, her voice cold and stern,

—"You got your fair share, you know i need to get my bills paid, darling." Mina stood up and leaned over her desk, lifting Sana's chin up and inching closer to her, lips barely apart as she stared at the latter in a rather dominating composure.

—"Is there any way i can increase my payment, Ma'am?" Sana asked, hand snaking to hold Mina's, which was still on her chin.

Mina thought for a bit, getting an idea and smirking. —"Oh i know a way, sweetheart."

———

—"Holy shit, Y/N!!" Nayeon yelped as she scrolled through her phone, you were laying next to her watching a movie, the scream making you jolt up, eyes going wide.

—"What the fuck!" She shut you up with a finger to your lip, sitting up properly as she began to explain, eyes scanning yours.

—"Okay, soo.. yknow my whole modeling thing with Tommy Hillfiger, right?" You nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she yapped on and on.

—"They're hosting a runway event and they invited me!," Nayeon then leaned closer to you, practically whispering in your ear

—"And they said i could bring a plus one, plus they're holding an after party in this club,” Nayeon said in a low sultry tone, trying to seduce and convince you, the action making you roll your eyes.

—"Come on! it'll be fun!" After a couple minutes of nagging, you finally gave in, borrowing some of Nayeons THF designer clothes and doing your makeup,

—"See, i knew you'd always look better in my clothing, i have a better fashion sense after all!" Nayeon replied cockily, taking off and changing her shirt infront of you.

—"Whatever, just hurry up so we can go," The only reason you agreed is because you needed to get your mind off Mina, almost a month and you couldn't get the image out of your mind, you needed to do anything possible to get that pit inside you out.

After a good ten minutes, Nayeon finally finished getting all dolled up, holding her handbag as she walked out with you to the door. —"Wait, wait! quick selfie before we go out, babe!"

You rolled your eyes and smirked, going over to the closet mirror you had near your apartment front door and posing, Nayeons hands snaking near the lower area off your waist as you both posed for a quick mirror pic, speeding off the door in a stat.

Nayeon was quick to post the pic, the entire car ride to the event just being some basic chatter.

———

Sana smirked as she got the notification on insta, seeing the two of you posing, she giggled as she liked the story. —"Bingo."

———-

As your driver finally settled near the event area, paparazzi drivers immediately started flashing you both, of course since you were going as Nayeons plus one; you had a reputation, sure, but not as big as your best friend's.

As the event finally started, you sat with Nayeon, her hand on your thigh as you both watched the fashion show, cameras occasionally flashing to you both, you watched with amusement as you admired all the outfits, whispering a funny comment or two in Nayeons ear when an outfits pattern or style was weird, both of you trying to hold in your laugh.

The event was fun, (and by fun you mean making fun of the weird outfits the models would walk in with), and it got your mind out of plenty of stuff; as you walked out, you took plenty of selfies with celebrities you admired, mostly flattering Nayeon in all her glory while you introduced yourself as her friend.

But now, the fun was actually about to start. As you pulled up to the club for the after party, it was full to the brim, butterflies in your stomach as the night began to settle.

The night was wild, filled with dancing, drinking, pouring shots in random peoples mouth and getting closer to Nayeon, the alcohol in your system making you touch, feel and grind all over your best-friend.

Little did you know, Sana, Mina's little minion and worker, was eyeing you the whole time.

Sana had been bringing over drunk girls for Mina to toy with, it's what they agreed on after all, the more the girls, the more payment increase for Sana. Sana was about to strike until you drifted off of Nayeon, whose lips were near you neck as you both danced together.

You slightly stumbled off to the bathroom, where only god knows what you were about to do.

That was until Mina bursted out of her office door, T-shirt collar messy as she wiped the messy lipstick on her face, a dark haired girl with bangs who looked like she just got ran over by a tornado leaving the room shortly after her, a hand trailing behind Mina's ass. —"Thank you for the service miss uhm.. Hirai.."

The girl blew a kiss as she ran off to party.

—“All good, Miss. Myoui?” Sana asked, head tilted as she gave the Japanese a cheeky smile.

Mina nodded, —"Just a quick bathroom break, i'll be back in a bit, bring the next girl over to my office ok?"

Mina walked off to the bathroom, hands in her pockets as she opened the door with her shoulders. You were leaning against the sink touching up your makeup until a loud thud made you snap your neck to the side, the sight of the girl you yearned so badly for making your jaw drop.

—"Myoui!!!?" You shouted, though it was quickly cut off by Mina's hand covering your mouth.

—"Shh, people aren't supposed to know i'm here, fuck." She replied sternly, the tone of voice taking you back a bit.

You both had a moment of silence before Mina spoke. —"It's been a while, no?"

You nodded, avoiding the latters gaze until she lifted your chin up with her finger, inching a bit closer. —"You okay?"

Mina replied, her cold facade disappearing and now being replaced with some light concern —"N-no it's just..."

You sighed before inching her hand away.

—"I don't think i can forget about last time, Mina.. I need that.." You paused for a brief moment as you stared at her, the bass of the music making the walls vibrate,

—"I need you."

Silence..

Mina barely wasted a second and latched onto you, hands holding your waist and ass as she bit your bottom lip, pressing her lips against yours in a deep kiss. You moaned out, Mina's cold hands reaching up to your shirt to cup and knead your breasts, pressing you against the wall, her thigh in-between your legs.

You bucked your hips for friction, grinding on her thigh as you whined against her.

—"Need it so badly, don't you, baby?" Mina teased, mouth trailing down to your neck, biting, leaving sloppy kisses, she was aggressive, desperate even; it was like you were her last fucking meal.

Mina groped your breast hard as she undid the button of your jean pants, shoving her hand down there to rub your clit through your underwear, a smirk pressing against your neck as your body jolted forward at the stimulation, mouth falling agape as you moaned out.

—"Good fucking girl." Mina gripped the skin of your sides harshly, her neck still on your neck, inhaling your scent, it was like an addiction, and she had fallen in deep.

Mina inserted two of her digits inside you, fucking you at an easy and steady pace, biting your earlobe as she kissed you roughly all over.

—“You need it so badly, don’t you baby?” Mina teased, mouth trailing down to your neck, biting, leaving sloppy kisses, she was aggressive, desperate even; it was like you were her last fucking meal.

You moaned loudly as she touched every single one of your weak spots, she knew what you liked and she’d do anything to please you.

The loud noise echoed through the bathroom, she pressed her lips against yours again, tongue exploring your mouth. —"Be quiet, needy girl, anyone can some in at any second yknow? See you being such a good girl for Miss Myoui, what would they think? Hm?"

You arched your back bucking your hips against her fingers, Mina's free hand reaching down to land three harsh smacks on your ass, kneading the area after, she was obsessed with your ass, and you knew it.

Mina's lips trailed down to your collarbone, marking the area. —"Don't wanna fuck anyone else after this, don't want YOU fucking anyone else, you're fucking mine, got it? This wet cunt is mine. Myoui Mina's fucking pussy."

You nodded endlessly, arms wrapping around her neck, you hid your face in the crook of it, biting her neck to suppress your noises.

—"Easy fucking girl." Mina spit back, her off hand just feeling you all over, sweat dripping down her forehead as she got you all messy for her.

—"Gosh, fucks sake Mina, i love you so fucking much."

Those words made Mina jolt up a bit, she would hear it a lot from all her different flings, but when it came out of your mouth, fuck, it was different. —"Yeah? Say how much you fucking love me, say it, needy girl."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you moaned out, telling her how much you loved her aimlessly, everything about her, how fucking obsessed you were with her. It struck a nerve in Mina, making her heart pang, she knew there was no hard feelings, but fuck.. why was she feeling this way.

She thrusted harder, hitting deep inside you as she felt your walls clench around her. —"Close, baby? Gonna cum for me? How about i take you home and treat you good after this?"

You nodded before pouring your juices out on the girls fingers, as she helped you ride your high, you pulled the girl closer into a hug and kissed her, your eyes teary. —"I'm sorry"

You apologized as you look into her eyes, her gaze softening, something you'd never seen before.—"It's.. Its okay.. Hey? I did promise id treat you? it's on me."

—"But what about—"

She was quick to reassure you, hands cupping your soft cheeks as she admired you with her gaze.

—"Don't worry about Nayeon, i've got it covered, trust me." As she said that, you gave in as she cleaned you up and took you out of the bathroom, eyeing Sana as she walked out with you, pinky's linked together.

You did good, Sana... You did good.

[lilacs-stars]

a night to remember

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: one day, you find a mysterious note in your locker from a certain pirate. who knows where it'll end up taking you—and your interesting relationship with him. GENRE: very wholesome despite the intro (I swear), fluff, some teasing and banter, reader being oblivious, mutual pining, just relationship cuteness overall CW: not much, mentions getting tipsy (not from alcohol), one little dirty joke if you squint hard enough WC: 7.5k

A/N: the title was inspired by the song of the same name by beabadoobee and laufey (I recommend listening to it while reading, as it sets the mood nicely!) james hook is literally so gentleman coded you can’t convince me otherwise. also I randomly thought of male characters using "m'lady" and now I'm obsessed...this was made to be pure, feet-kicking and giggling inducing fluff, so enjoy! thanks again to the anon who requested this, hope you like it! please leave feedback and suggestions, hearing your thoughts makes me so happy! :))

You stare down at the drink in your hand, the realization of what it is slowly dawning upon you. 

Mouth agape in pure disbelief, you glance up at the man sitting in front of you. The devilish glint in his eyes, rivaled only by the shine of his metal hook, sends chills down your spine—making it terribly clear why he brought you. 

Oh god, you think. How in the world did I get here?

You make your way through the bustling halls of Merlin Academy, trying your best to not get jostled by the ruckus of the crowd. 

Honestly, who puts people’s classes on the sixth floor and their lockers on the first? you mentally grumble, finally reaching the dreaded staircase that you climb up and down dozens of times each day.

After descending the five flights of stairs, you’re completely out of breath by the time you reach your locker. You tap the lock with your pointer finger three times, a magical device inside reading your fingerprint. It clicks open, and your locker door swings out towards you.

Reaching to place your books inside and take out some new ones for the rest of the day's classes, you’re shocked by something that slips out as soon as the door opens. A white piece of paper sways back and forth as it falls to the floor, right next to your feet.

You bend down to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, you learn that it’s not a piece of paper; it’s a small packet, stapled in the corner. At the top, in neat, printed letters, are the words “ENCHANTMENT OF MAGICAL OBJECTS: UNIT 3 WRITTEN TEST.”

Below it, a line is provided for the student's name. Scribbled down in a fancy, yet somehow still messy and barely legible font, is the name “James Hook.”

He left me his test? you question. You don’t even bother wondering how he broke into your locker; after that little incident where he stole your ring, you have resigned yourself to not being surprised at his so-called “bad boy” antics. He is a villain, after all.

This test was one that your class had been preparing for quite some time. It mainly centered the theory of enchantments, with the most difficult one being the Aiming Spell. Thankfully, you had taught Hook most of the material during your study session last week, specifically focusing on helping him improve his Aiming Spell (although maybe he got a little too good, considering how he pulled off that ring trick).

Your confusion regarding the test placed in your locker lasts only a second longer, until you notice that in the top right corner, a big, circled "87%" is written in bright red pen.

The number stays for a brief moment, before the red ink rearranges itself on the page, morphing into a “B+”.

Wait…that’s really good. For him, at least, you think. Is this really all because of your one tutoring session? You have always thought that you’re pretty good at teaching other people, but you never considered yourself a miracle worker. He must think it is because of me, I guess. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left this in here.

Even though you know you’re probably not supposed to, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you flip back the front cover to check what he got wrong.

As soon as you lift the top page, another piece of paper falls out of the test. This time, it’s smaller, a faint beige color tinting the sheet.

You reach down once again to pick it up as you notice that this one is actually an envelope. Glancing at the back, which appears to be empty, you flip it over to the front side. It bears a wax seal embossed with an emblem of two crossed pirate swords.

Carefully peeling back the top of the envelope so as to not rip the delicate paper, you pull out the note inside. There isn’t much writing on the plain paper, but it’s in the same handwriting as before. Very intrigued at this unusual occurrence of events, you read the few lines of text keenly.

“Friday, 6 pm. The Rogers Place.

Make sure to wear your fanciest dress.

Meet me there. I’ll be waiting.”

...What? You’re too stunned to even think. What is this? There’s no way he’s actually asking you out…on a date.

This has to be a joke, right? A study session was one thing, but this, this, meetup, is something entirely different. He even asked to meet you outside of school. You've heard before of the restaurant he mentioned, although you've never actually gone there yourself. Based on what you've gathered, it's a popular, rather formal place run by Eudora Rogers and her young daughter, Tiana, in memory of her beloved husband. 

So why in the name of the heavens would James Hook ask you, someone who has no dating experience whatsoever, of all people, to go with him to dinner? “Wear your fanciest dress”? What is this guy thinking?

In utter disbelief, you flip over the note, checking the back to make sure you haven’t missed something. To your surprise, there is some writing scrawled on the back, which reads: “Your payment for helping me pass my test.”

Right…so…he’s asking you out on a—no, it’s not a date, you remind yourself, yet again. He’s simply doing a nice act to return the favor. This was probably the only thing that came to his mind. Silencing the little voice in your head that whispers, “Why would the first thing that came to his mind be asking you out to dinner?”, you stuff the envelope and note in your bookbag, holding on to the test to give back to him sometime.

As you walk down the hallway, rushing to get to your next class, you don’t see the figure lurking behind the corner at the other end of the corridor.

He smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

This one? No, it’s too casual.

How about this one? No, it’s not fancy enough.

This? Too sparkly.

That? Not sparkly enough.

You sigh, flopping onto your bed amidst a pile of dresses. It’s a few hours after school let out, on the day you’ve been anticipating all week long. And, not surprisingly, you can’t decide what in the world to wear. After all, it’s not like you’ve been out on lots of not-dates to know what a typical outfit would be like.

You stare up at the ceiling, sighing again for what must be the hundredth time this night. At times like this, you seriously wish you had a roommate. You've always had your dorm all to yourself, and sure, it is really nice most of the time. You can relax and unwind in solitude, with no one distracting you or pestering you with trivial matters while you study. However, there are the rare few occasions where you long to have someone close, to help you out or give you advice.

After holding up quite a few more dresses in the mirror, you finally decide on the one with the fewest number of cons, from the mental list you made for each dress. Slipping it on—albeit with much difficulty, since who designed dresses to be so frilly to the point where you can't even find where to put your head?—you stare at your reflection, completely enamored by the person you see staring back at you. You’re not really used to wearing fancy things like this, which is probably the reason why you barely recognize yourself.

Twirling around, head over your shoulder as you keep your gaze locked on the mirror, you realize why people have always told you that you have a striking resemblance to your mother. Your outfit consists of a ballgown-style dress, which really is the only type you have in your closet. Even though it’s a bit uncomfortable, the fitted bodice making it rather hard to take a full breath and the off-the-shoulder neckline compelling you to constantly tug it up to prevent it from slipping, it still is absolutely gorgeous. The short sleeves complement the torso, and the full skirt, all puffed up with layers of tulle, swishes elegantly as you move around. The bodice is densely embellished with small rhinestones, mostly at the top, with the gems growing sparser farther down the dress. A few crystals are set into the skirt just below the waistline, creating a scattered, shimmering effect reminiscent of the stars in a night sky.

Even though you aren’t a fan of fancy dresses, you must admit, you absolutely adore this one.

Finishing off the look with some jewelry and accessories, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. You've never been one to be arrogant, but it's still hard not to think that even though this is certainly not a date, maybe, just maybe, Hook might be a little more interested in you after tonight.

“Um…hi?” you say, timid voice rising into a question from your uncertainty.

After getting dressed, you made your way to the restaurant. Fighting the deep-rooted urge to get there early as possible, you took the long route, not wanting to be the first to arrive. I’ll make him wait for me this time, you decided with an evil little smirk, thinking back to the day of your study session and the long minutes you had agonizingly spent wondering if he was going to show up.

Now, you stand in front of the reception desk, peering up at a waiter ordering papers. Fiddling with the lace gloves covering your hands, you add, “I don’t know if my name is ion the reservation or anything…”

Honestly, you’re not quite sure what to do at this point. All Hook had instructed you was to show up at the restaurant at this time. Part of you had expected him to be waiting by the door, but now that you see he isn't, your nervousness rises.

“Are you Y/N?” the server questions, glancing down at something on the small podium-like stand.

“Uh, yes, I am,” you reply.

“A young man has made a reservation for the two of you. He’s already waiting for you out on the patio. If you’ll follow me,” the waiter informs you, grabbing a menu from his stack and leading you through the bustling restaurant.

You follow him, feeling incredibly bashful as you swerve around tables and people alike. You finally reach a large set of doors in one of the seating areas, which the waiter opens for you.

Stepping through the threshold, you sense the cool rush of the evening air welcome you out. The sky has already begun to dim, a few faint stars gleaming against the dark backdrop. Spread out in front of you is an array of tables, most of them small enough for only two people. The low lighting, coming solely from flickering candles and glowing lanterns strung throughout the area, paired with the singular rose set in a vase at the center each table and a faint, slow jazz song playing somewhere in the background, makes for the most romantic of settings you could have possibly imagined.

Your breath is completely taken away as the server leads you through the arrangements of seats. It’s sparsely crowded, with only a few couples seated here and there, each enjoying an amorous dinner.

The server stops at a circular, two-seated table close to the edge, overlooking a magnificent view of the city down below. A few feet in front ahead and sitting with his back towards you, the only object of your thoughts for these past few hours turns his head in your direction, probably upon hearing the clacking of your high-heeled shoes.

Although you’ve tried your best to convince yourself that this, in fact, is not a date, you simply can’t deny the way his entire expression light up at the mere sight of you. Hook stands up, unabashedly eyeing you up and down slowly, taking all of you in.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes your hand in his, once again bowing down to place a kiss on your ring—it appears that this has become a routine, which you can't exactly say you mind.

You don't miss how he pauses for just a moment, noticing the way your ring is still on your ring finger, unchanged from the place he left it. Holding your breath, your heart beats faster as you worry about what he thinks of it. To your relief, he doesn’t say anything, instead kissing the gemstone and straightening back up again, but not before ever so softly—yet still with obvious intentionality—brushing his lips against your finger, deliberately tracing your skin with an agonizingly slow pace as his warm breath sets your every nerve on fire.

“M’lady,” he breathes, standing to meet your gaze. His casual nonchalance is a stark difference from the way you struggle to regain your composure, hating how even the smallest of actions from him can elicit such a reaction from you.

As you study him, you notice that he had a significant wardrobe change too; instead of his usual pirate attire, he dons a dark maroon frock coat, embroidered with intricate swirls and designs. He definitely made an attempt at looking a bit more classy, with his hair neater than usual and the collar of his shirt tidily done. You could even swear that his hook looked more polished than usual, and that he carried the faint, odd trace of expensive cologne.

The server leaves the menu on your table and walks away with a polite nod of his head. Hook steps over to the chair opposite the one he had been sitting in, pulling it out for you in a manner that is far too gentlemanly for what you're used to seeing from him, gesturing at you to sit down with a wave of his shiny metal hook. 

Overwhelmingly flattered, you walk over, smoothing your skirt beneath you as you take your seat. Hook pushes your chair in, before going back to the other side of the table to take his own seat.

Not sure what else to do, you pick up your menu and glance over it. “Decide what you’re going to order yet?” Hook asks you.

“No, you?”

“They already took my order, but I told them to wait on preparing my food until you had ordered as well.”

They already took his order? How long has he been here? you wonder. You glance at your wristwatch, seeing that it’s only a few minutes past six o’clock. Deciding to shrug it off, you go back to looking at your menu, despite not being able to fight the voice in your head that whispers about how you should've gotten here earlier, that he had probably been waiting for you, all alone, for quite some time.

“It’s so hard to decide,” you say with a halfhearted laugh, trying to fill up the heavy silence. You peruse the menu more carefully this time, marveling at how many different dishes are listed. Finally, after reading through the entire thing a few more times, you settle on the one that sounds the best.

After only a few moments, the server comes back around and takes your order. “A fine choice, ma’am,” he comments as you tell him your choice of entrée. You notice that all of the waiters here wear fancy black suits and come with a pristine white cloth draped over their arm. Huh, how fancy, you think to yourself. I never knew this place was so formal.

“So, Hook,” you begin, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Didn’t you read my note? It’s a thank-you for helping me pass my test. The teacher was very impressed with my score, you know,” he responds indifferently.

You give him a small sigh, paired with a gentle smile—your attempt at hiding the twinge of disappointment dancing in your eyes. “I did, but you didn’t have to treat me to dinner. A simple note would have sufficed.”

Hook looks at you, dark brown eyes wide and holding your gaze with an intensity you’ve never known. “Sufficed? I don’t want to just suffice. I want to give you a memorable night. An unforgettable experience.” “I don’t think I could ever forget a charming pirate with a hook for a hand,” you laugh, teasing him lightly. Instead of laughing along with you, Hook stares at you for another moment, studying you with slightly scrunched brows and an indecipherable expression on his face. You grow uneasy at his burning look, shifting in your seat as you wonder why he’s watching you so intently.

However, the tense awkwardness in the air lasts for only a minute, before Hook breaks into one of his famous smirks as he replies, “Oh, charming, am I? I know you can’t stop thinking about me, love.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant!” you cry, leaning across the table to give him a small push. He breaks into a laugh, his lips curling up into yet another genuine smile as he leans back just out of your reach. His mirthful expression makes you realize that he had been simply joking, causing your face to burn up as your mind replays your rather dramatic reaction. Honestly, you can never really tell whether he’s being serious or just messing with you.

“Settle down, love. Wouldn’t want you ruining that pretty dress of yours,” he responds, twisting to the side again to prevent getting smacked by you.

You two continue making small talk, still partaking in your teasing, only slightly annoying banter. Before you know it, a waiter is walking towards your table with two platters, one in each hand.

The server sets down the plates on your table, the dishes both looking absolutely delectable. Along with the food, he places two matching beverages in front of you two.

You thank him, and he bows again before leaving. Turning back to Hook, you watch with a slight arch of your eyebrows as he raises his drink in the air.

“A toast,” he says. “To continuing our little dates.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to correct him this time. Lifting your own glass, you add, “And to you continuing to get good grades.” He smiles at this, before lifting the drink to his lips. Perceptive as always, you notice how his eyes follow your hand as you bring the glass to your mouth.

A sudden, fleeting doubt crosses your mind at his suspicious behavior. Glancing down at the drink skeptically, you notice its unique bright red color. You lower +it slightly and sniff it, then bring it down from your face, fixing a glare at Hook. “You think I don’t know what this is?”

“Oh, I know you do. That’s what I was counting on, at least.”

You persist with your glare. You've spent many hours reading up on different potions and elixirs, so you're no stranger to the drink in your hand. It's a popular one known as the Lovers' Lascivious Lure, a beverage with a fruit punch-like taste, plus a little kick. The real reason for its fame, however, is the touch of love potion that gets mixed in. Not enough to truly make someone fall in love with you or intoxicate them, but rather something that is favored by couples looking to get a little tipsy in love on their night out.

You set the glass down on the table, not breaking your gaze away for a second as you continue to glower at the person sitting across you.

“It’s rude to not drink after a toast, darling,” Hook says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t care, I’m not drinking that,” you reply irritatedly. 

“Fine. Your loss, love.”

You watch in complete shock, eyes blown wide and mouth agape as Hook brings his drink up to his lips again, tipping back his head as he gulps the entire thing down in one go.

“I’d drink yours as well, darling, but I’d hate for you to be forced to walk me home, instead of the other way around,” Hook spouts with a bit too much added expression, slightly swaying as the effects of the potion kick in. 

You continue to stare at him, concern etched into your features, knowing full well that this drink is designed to be sipped slowly throughout a leisurely dinner, one with much idle conversation and flirtatious looks. Not to be downed all at once. You honestly don’t know what the side effects are to consuming a large amount very quickly, but you pray that the potion is weak enough so as to not cause actual harm—or any other effects—to him.

“So, love,” Hook drawls in a low tone, leaning in. “Anything you feel like telling me?”

“You’re the one who drank the liquid courage, not me,” you point out, fixing him with another look. “Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer you’re going to last like this.”

At your words, Hook’s dazed expression suddenly disappears, instead replaced by a very serious, stern face. “Oh, I assure you, love, I can last very long.”

You blink, a tad confused at why he said that with such a strong conviction. Brushing it off, you look down at your food again, your mouth already watering. “Come on, our food’s going to get cold, and it looks far too delicious to waste.”

Hook agrees, unrolling his utensils instead of shooting back a one-liner, much to your surprise. You’re even more taken aback at the way he drapes the white cloth, which previously held his cutlery, over his legs as he begins to eat, keeping up with his very proper etiquette. He does everything with utterly perfect decorum, from holding his fork and knife in the correct positions to cutting all his food into little pieces. You honestly don't know why this comes as such a shock to you; he has been employing rather polite manners all evening, after all. It appears, you realize, that you’ve always subconsciously believed the stereotypes that pirates are unruly creatures, which therefore must mean they eat messily.

Apparently, this pirate doesn’t.

You both make small talk as you enjoy your food, which is every bit as delicious and succulent as it looked. All the different components are cooked to a perfect degree; not raw or difficult to chew, but not burnt, either. Rich, deep, aromatic spices have always been the staple of this restaurant, and for good reason. You have no clue what flavorings they used, but whatever they are, they taste unlike anything you've ever eaten in your entire life, like an otherworldly meal sent from the heavens. To top it all off, the food also comes with piquant side dishes, followed by desserts that are absolutely decadent and make you melt with every bite you take.

After you both have had your share, Hook motions to the waiter for the check. You had slipped some extra cash into your handbag before coming, not sure what the expectation would be for who paid. As the waiter returns with the small black book in his hand, you turn to Hook.

“I can pay, if you want,” you offer. 

Hook quirks his brow as he gives you a look, before reaching into his coat pocket. “Come now, don’t be ridiculous, love. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay for you? Especially considering that I was the one who asked you out.”

You blink hard, barely aware of your small nod towards him, your mind racing as the waiter gives Hook the check. You blankly watch him scribble a signature before handing it back, trying to process what he just said. “...asked you out…” Does that mean he actually considers this as a date? Especially since he offered to pay for you…Heavens, what is going on?

Your eyes trail the waiter as he leaves, just as Hook turns back to you. “All finished?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “So…what now?” You aren't quite sure whether or not he's planning on walking you home like he mentioned earlier, but you do know that you're not ready to part quite so soon. Averting his gaze, you instead choose to look down at the candle flickering in the middle of your table. It is now very dark outside, to the point where the flame’s meager light shines with a bright luminosity. Entranced by the fire, you stare intently at its dancing movements, attention fully consumed by how the flame appears to be practically alive.

“Now,” Hook says with a glint in his eyes, causing your head to snap back up, “I have something to show you.”

“Something to show me?” you repeat. “Show me what?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see once we get there, love.”

“Once we get there? Hook, where are we going?”

He gives a smug, knowing grin. “You’ll see. Just be patient, darling.” He notices the skeptical look you still have, so he adds, “Trusting me last time turned out good, right? So trust me one more time. I promise you’ll like your surprise.”

You consider his words, hating how he had a point. “Fine,” you huff. “Lead the way, I guess.”

You start to push your chair back to get up, but Hook chides, “Ah ah ah, no you don’t,” standing up himself before walking behind you. He grips the back of your chair and pulls it out for you, before offering his good hand to help you stand too.

Once again, you’re rather shocked at his well-mannered behaviors and courteous gestures. As you accept his outstretched arm, you wonder how in the world this is the same person who was, only a few days ago, leaning back in his chair with his feet up, flinging magical disks across the room.

Getting up, you hesitate for a moment, freezing in place now that you’re level with his eyes. You haven’t been this close to him since that pivotal day during your study session, and your breath gets taken away once again by the proximity.

His angular features and sharp jawline catch your attention, causing your legs to stagger as your gaze wanders down to his soft, plush lips, which definitely stand out amidst the rest of his chiseled face. You had never noticed how his eyeliner also traces his bottom lash line, making his eyes pop whenever he widens them, or how part of his hair swoops to the side and slightly covers his forehead. It dawns on you that you’ve always overlooked the two small silver earrings that dangle from his ears, or the chain around his neck with a cross on it, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Not aware of how you’re just standing there paralyzed, you commit to memory the small details about him you’ve never really seen before. Even though the inside of your head is alive and bustling with a plethora of thoughts, outside, you two stand in terribly awkward silence.

Hook clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. “Come along, darling. We wouldn’t want to be interrupted by curfew again.”

Tightening his grip on your hand, which still holds yours, he leads you through the entrance you had used not so long ago while bidding farewell to the waiter. You continue up the hill to the woods behind the restaurant, Hook refusing to give even a single hint as to what big surprise awaits you.

The trail through the trees starts off easy enough, although still rather difficult for you to traverse in your tight dress and voluminous skirt. If I had known I’d be taking a hike, I’d have worn something more suitable, and much more comfortable, you think, but ultimately decide to keep your mouth shut. After all, Hook had been spoiling you all evening. The least you could do was not nag him about every last thing.

The farther you go, the thicker the branches that block your path and scratch at your arms with their sharp claws get, and the denser the underbrush that tries to trap your feet and swallow you whole grows. After a quarter hour of consistent walking, the trail all but disappears, until only a small path carved by the footsteps of a few brave souls remains. You have to hold up the edge of your full-length skirt the whole way to ensure it doesn’t get all dirty and muddy; by the time you’re nearly done, your arms ache just as much, if not more, than your legs.

You and Hook travel mostly in silence, the sounds of your heavy panting and the crunches of leaves and branches underfoot filling up the empty air. You trail behind him, sometimes struggling to keep up, although he does happen to notice this and slows down his pace after the first few minutes.

Occasionally, Hook gives a short, crisp, “Watch out for the rock there, love,” or “The branches here are really low, I’ll hold them up for you.” You always respond with a clipped “Yeah,” or “Okay, thanks,” trying to mask just how out of breath you've gotten from the difficult climb. Early on in the beginning of the hike, you had to let go of his hand, favoring holding up your skirt instead. Still, in areas where the ground is rough or rocky, or the footing becomes difficult or rather steep, Hook always turns around and offers his hand to you and helps pull you up, or reaches out his hook from overhead for you to grab on to.

The noises of the night accompany you the entire time: the soft chirps of crickets, a few croaks from a frog somewhere out of sight, a creature or other scampering through the bushes, a rare call from an owl, and the whispering of the leaves above as a cool breeze passes through them. After a few more minutes of walking through a maze of nature with trees so thick—their only rival being the velvety blackness of the night—the pace of the trek finally slows down. You've long tired of always having to hold one arm ahead to ensure that you don’t get smacked in the face by an unsuspecting branch, so you're overwhelmingly relieved when Hook finally says, “We’re almost there.” “Finally,” you mumble between breaths. “I think my limbs are just about to fall off.” You can’t really tell in the pitch-black darkness, but you could have sworn that Hook gave a small smile at your words.

Once you reach a thick tangle of branches and vines that completely block your path, you both come to a stop. You watch as he pulls them back and to the side, even slicing through some with his hook. He beckons you forward with a courteous, “Ladies first,” a grin dancing on his features.

You walk through the clearing and onto a wide ledge overlooking the entire city. The view knocks the breath out of your lungs, despite your body already screaming at you for more oxygen. All thoughts of your strenuous hike vanish from your head, except for one that reminds you the arduous journey was absolutely and totally worth it.

From all the way up here, you can see the entire land. The shimmering lights of the large cityscape below you steal your heart, while the small village houses and mountains beyond them, creating the faintest of outlines against the horizon, capture your soul. This vantage point allows you to see everything; every bustling street filled with people rushing to get home after a long week, or frolicking around on a night out. Every house, every drawn-back curtain, but a mere speck in the constellation of human activity, a testament to the splendor of life. Twinkling lights sprawled below you paint a shimmering mosaic, reflecting the celestial canvas of stars hanging above you.

You stare in pure awe, almost forgetting about Hook as he approaches you from behind. “Enjoying the view, love?” he whispers softly, his voice closer to you than you expected.

You startle, turning backwards with a sharp inhale. “Oh…yeah, it’s just…breathtaking.” Unable to think of the right words to describe it, you decide to settle for an almost shameful understatement of the view's beauty.

You’re not quite sure if you imagined it, too caught up in your head, but you hear something that almost sounds like a soft, “Just like you.”

“Huh?” you ask, turning back around to face him. 

“I said, I told you you’d like it,” Hook repeats, although you still hold your suspicions. “All you had to do was trust me.”

“And how can I be sure you aren’t planning to push me off the edge?” you question, teasing him.

“Well, you can’t,” he replies, walking over to the ledge. “But if I do, I’ll let you drag me down with you. If we go down, then we go down together.”

You giggle, choosing to take his words at face value only and not read into them too much. After all, your heart can only take so much in one night.

Hook crouches down, using his good hand to support him as he sits down in front of you, keeping one foot hugged to his chest as he dangles the other off the side of the cliff.

He glances over his shoulder at you, patting the space besides him. Cautiously, you walk over to the ledge, joining him on the ground. 

You both sit there for a moment in silence, looking over the magnificent scene. You can tell that Hook finds comfort in the lack of conversation, but it feels too heavy for you, and so you decide to finally break it with the question that’s been on your mind this whole night.

“Hook?” you ask gently.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He turns his head slightly to glance at you. “I thought you’d like the view,” he replies, looking at you with a confused expression.

You take a quick breath, preparing yourself for the difficult words you’re planning to speak next. “No, I mean, why did you really bring me here tonight?” He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, adding, “And don’t lie to me.”

His mouth closes shut again and he hesitates for a moment, contemplating his next sentence carefully, before responding, “I’ve already told you.”

“What, that you wanted to thank me for helping you get a B-plus on your test? Yeah, that excuse won’t work on me anymore.”

“No, not that.” He turns his head back and runs his good hand through his hair, making his neatly combed style look a bit more windswept than before. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

“…What?”

“I already told you that it was a date, love. You just chose not to believe me.”

It’s your turn to whip your head to the side this time, now facing directly towards Hook, who’s still looking straight ahead at the scenery.

“I-I didn’t…truly…I thought you were just joking when you said that.”

He glances at you again, a roguish grin forming on his lips. “Oh, darling, I don’t joke about much. Especially not with you.”

Again, you choose not to read too deeply into his words, trying to break your awful habit of overthinking. Instead, you press on, wanting to gain as much information as you can from him. If nothing else, at least a few answers might help put your mind at a little more ease. “Why’d you want to ask me out? I’m not exactly…”

Your voice fades away as your brain catches up with your far-too-fast mouth, realizing that saying “I’m not exactly the most desirable person to date” may not do you any favors.

Hook turns to look at you with an expectant gaze, and you know that you can’t sweep your little slip-up under the carpet that easily. Gods, he’s observant. “…the most popular person at our school,” you finish.

“Hmm, true,” Hook concurs, tilting his head with a tone as if he’s never considered that point before. You were half-expecting him to disagree, more out of courtesy than honesty, so you’re a bit taken aback when he agrees with you.

“But I don’t care about popularity.” Ah, so there’s that socially obligatory politeness. You don't really believe his words at first, yet the way he says it so sincerely, so genuinely, makes you wonder if he truly is being honest.

“So why’d you want to take me out on a date?”

“Because, love, you’re different from what I’m used to,” he replies. “You’re kind, soft, pure. You intrigued me.”

You recoil at his words, a deep, writhing anger rising out of you. “What, you only went out with me because I’m so pure and innocent? So you could corrupt me?” you spit, having heard this little skit far too many times before.

“No, not like that. Not at all.” Hook twists his body to face you more, and although you’re still mad at him, you can’t deny the hurt and pain that swirls in his voice and eyes at your accusations. “You’re…you’re always trying to help others. You always speak softly, always smile. You’re untainted by the evils I've witnessed. You’re like an angel sent down from the heavens. You’re not like me, love."

Hook continues, “And I don’t want to change that. I don’t want to corrupt or hurt you. I want to preserve that. Every time I’m with you, you make me want to keep you safe from the troubles of the world, the cruel things I’ve seen.

"You make me want to be around you. I can't explain how, or why, but your presence alone compels me to change my ways. To be kinder, gentler, softer. For you. It's as if you're contagious, and well, I think you've infected me, love. Whenever I see you, or even think of you, everything feels just a little bit better. The weight on my shoulders feels a bit lighter, and nothing seems as bad as it used to, as it was when I was on my own.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is...you've made me feel things that I haven't felt in a long, long time. Things that I thought my blackened heart couldn't even experience anymore. You make me feel like there's still goodness in the world...like there's still hope. Like I still have hope." You blink slowly, your mind and heart spinning alike as everything around you, as time itself, seems to slow down. You're unable to process all his words, unable to even begin to consider the implications of what this all means. “So, what you’re saying is…you only like me because I’m good?” you ask, touched by his sentiment, yet a little sad at the underlying meaning. Does this mean that if you want to stay with Hook, to maybe even be something in the future, you can't have any darkness to your soul? That you'll have to continue to be as righteous and morally correct as ever?

He gives a small chuckle. “Of course not, darling. I love when I make you snap, when you get angry at me. I love when the fierce part of you comes out. Just like it did now.” He reaches out his good hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your cheek as he keeps it there, not pulling back quite yet.

You can see the hesitance swirling in his eyes, the uncertainty in the way his hand lingers by your face. By some sudden stroke of courage, the origins of which are a complete mystery to you—maybe he had the love potion added to your food too?—you shift your whole body towards Hook, keeping your legs tucked together and off to one side. 

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

“I'm sorry, love, wh-what?”

It feels strange to take command for once, but it sure is nice. “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His lingering hand cups your cheek as you both lean in, meeting each other in the middle. Hook’s lips are as soft and plump as you imagined, almost like brushing your mouth against the petals of a rose. Placing one of your hands on the ground beside you, you put your weight on it as you move even closer.

You’ve read of intense kisses, filled with passion and fueled by lust. But this isn't like that. It is slow, sweet, intoxicating you with only the purest of adorations. Your lips hover over his as you tilt your head to the side to prolong the embrace, getting swept up in the moment whilst being completely and blissfully unaware of anything and everything besides how his lips feel against yours, how his hook traces your body as he devours you like a starved man given his last meal. How he breathes you in like you're the very air that fills his lungs, like your sheer essence is the only oxygen he needs. You bring your hand up to his shoulder, leaning further into him as he moves his good hand back and tangles it in your hair.

It ends rather quickly, the entire kiss lasting but a moment, yet still filling you with the sweetest pleasure. In that moment, you realize why people spend their whole lives searching for love; it’s one of the most endearing, profound forms of joy that one can feel, and you're certain that you just felt it.

You pull away, noticing how his gaze lingers on your lips, before looking back up at you. He gives you a captivating, yet genuine smile, one that makes your heart to ache at how perfect he is, yet simultaneously yearning for his touch, his lips, him being wrapped up in another embrace with you and never breaking away. The newfound euphoria coursing through your veins and making your mind fuzzy causes you to return his smile with a wide, love-drunk grin of your own, a deep, wholehearted devotion emanating through your gaze as you study his features.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper, staring into his eyes—eyes that reflect your own.

“Always, love.”

“You were my first kiss,” you confess.

Hook brings his hand back up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His grin grows, an endless affection swirling in his dark eyes as he replies, “I guess this really is a night to remember.”

You give a small laugh, lowering your forehead to lean it against his shoulder, seeking comfort in his hold. “You did want to give me an unforgettable night, after all.”

“Can I tell you a secret, too?”

You raise your head again to peer up at him with wide eyes, curious as to what he has to admit.

“That day, in class,” he confides, “I was enchanting those disks and sending them across the room so you’d come and talk to me. I saw how you went over to help that other kid who was struggling. So, I figured that if I struggled too, you'd come over and I could get a conversation with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you could cast the spell right?”

“Oh, no, not even close, love. That was all your work. Although I might have put in a bit more effort just to impress you,” he adds with a small smirk.

You move one of your hands closer to him, placing it on top of his and intertwining your fingers together. “Well, I suppose it worked.”

You lean back into him, kissing him blissfully yet again under the watchful smile of the moon glowing high in the sky, the stars glimmering and winking down at your young love. As you embrace, the city below bustles with the joys and despairs of human life unbeknownst to you, each person a thread in the tapestry of the world. Every soul but a speck of stardust in a cosmic dance.

And perhaps that is the greatest folly of human life. All the weight of one’s burdens, all the battles fought, all the hearts and souls that love and cry, together composing of but a fleeting second amidst the vastness of forever. And yet, each person gets lost in the preeminence of their own narrative, joyfully unaware of every grain of sand that disappears into the abyss as we shuffle closer to the edge of this mortal coil. But oftentimes, one’s deepest flaw is their greatest feat, as no imperfection comes without its own merit.

So maybe that very feature is, instead, the greatest feat of humanity. To love like you’ll live forever, and to weep like there’s no tomorrow. Maybe our ignorance gives us strength, the strength to keep going every day, pretending as if we somehow have an authority and power over the galactic strings of thread that weave together the fate of our universe.

The city below you, the world outside of the little bubble the two of you have created, moves on, unknown and unknowing of you both. But in this moment, nothing else matters. Nothing besides the love and affection you and him have grown to share.

end x

<- back to part 1

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0 @ljaylmaoo @maggiecc @elltheawkward @eretsupremacy89 @dreamerofasgard @mabs04

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: I just had to end this with some philosophical musings haha (hey google, how do you write beginnings and endings?) anyways hope you liked this, I love making fluff like this :D I love seeing everyone's comments and reactions, all feedback is highly appreciated! until next time :))

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[lemonandlime22]

Platonic yandere!Ace & Deuce

Warning(s): Yandere shit, unhealthy behavior, this shits only good for fiction irl this is no fuckin good obv, basically me rambling abt whatever comes to mind, cussing, not edited

A/N: getting more into yandere shit again, might write a fic at some point, but knowing me i doubt it lol. Sorry for the extreme lack on content, ive recently moved and been so much busier then i ever expected, also no wifi yet so its rly hard to to this on the computer. rn im pet sitting for a friend and they let me use their wifi so im able to write.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

These two as yanderes wouldn't be too bad in all honesty

their just both extremely overprotective

and maybe Ace is a lot tad manipulative

Deuce just wants you to be safe and happy.

They downright refuse to let you alone with anyone that has or has tried to hurt you, it took a lot of convincing and reassuring just to let those ppl near you period

and there are quite a few ppl that fall into that category,

All the house wardens + Jamil

except for Kalim,

Crowley

I cannot express into words how much they hate Crowley,

The tweels,

Lilia

just in case.... (≖_≖ ),

Ruggie

he and Leona are kinda a package deal in that regard,

Ortho

for B6 spoiler reasons,

And a bunch of random students

cause a lot students at this school are assholes.

And i think that's abt it so far-

Deuce worries so much abt you all the time, he's like a clingy big dog

he rarely lets you leave his or Ace's sight

Ace acts like he could give a rats ass abt you but rly he worries just as much as Deuce

These two will do virtually anything for you

want answers to a test?

they got them for you by the end of the day!

some rando bothering you?

this world might have one less person or a hospital might gain a patient!

want Ramshackle cleaned

that mf is ganna be spotless once they're done with it!

ok maybe not the last one they'll rly just casually clean when they're there and in a month it'll be sparkling

The only downside to this is that they will always bicker wth each other while doing these things.

Oh Ace and Deuce almost never leave Ramshackle btw

Just imagine having a clingy dog and cat and that's abt the same experience.

Oh and this might go without saying, but by the end of the story they won't let you more than 6 feet away from either of them at all times

and i mean ALL

also there is no way in hell you are ever going to go home

these two will fr get a sledgehammer and go to town on that mirror no matter the consequences.

Buuut before that, they'll mostly Ace try and convince you to stay willingly by saying almost anything from guilt-tripping you too antagonizing your friends and family.

Decue will try to convince you too stay by getting you things, both sentimental and otherwise

he might even go back into stealing if the time comes.

Overall, rly these two aren't all that bad, but kidnapping is still on the table if they ever need to take dire measures....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[chainelunaire]

hiii! i really enjoy your headcanons, they are so on point! can i please request reactions to break up w bnha boys??🥺🥺🥺 dabi esp! thank you 😓

hi! thank you so much for requesting! it's an interesting one for me, so hope you'll like it!

so, how they would react to a break up?

shigaraki

good lord, his reaction is the worst out of three of them, and probably out of everyone in general. if it's not him initiating it in the first place, then it's really bad for you. he'll be all kinds of a messed up, it won't be pretty at all. his mood swings would be extreme at this point, he'll change from quiet and calm to deranged in a blink of an eye. this is probably the closest you ever been to death when in relationship with him, because he truly wants you dead. he wants you to never ever exist anymore, he wants to rip your face off - that's how mad he is. he feels so betrayed and hurt and insulted, it'll take all his will not to end you right on the spot. he does not do that only because he's learnt from his mistakes so even when he's mad, he's pretty in control of his impulses. actually, don't try to avoid him after breaking the news, because he won't take it well. you don't have the right to feel scared anymore, you owe him that. see, league is very dear to his heart, so he'll do his best not to lose his cool in front of them, he'll force himself to be at least calm around you. he doesn't want his friends to witness his outbursts anymore, so he'll focus on them and pretend you're not even here. he's quite lucky he has this support, actually, it really helps him a lot. with time, he'll be able to overcome his bitterness, but by that time you'll be either kicked out of the league or kept at the distance so far from him he won't be able to meet you often. and when he does meet you, he won't even be petty, he'll be just straight up rude. you won't forget some of his words even on your deathbed. he's truly evil with them, since he's already decided to let you live. at some point he probably will understand why you did that, but he'll never forgive you for betraying his trust. the worst part? he saw that coming. he's just always right and yet he's still hoping for the best. every time he sees your face, he's reminded of the humiliation he went through. he's ashamed, insulted, it's all coming back, so yeah. better stay away from him from now on.

dabi

he won't show how shocked or hurt he is, because first and foremost, he doesn't feel so himself, yet. and he's known for his odd reactions, so you'll probably miss the whole point. you see how chill he is with his "sure, see ya later", you feel relieved because no one is offended, everything's great. no-no-no. his true reaction will be much later, when the sense behind your words finally got through his skull. that's when the show begins. if he loves you - and he does, otherwise there would be no relationship - he'll try to do something about it. he tried so hard to make it work, he really did. relationships are very difficult to him, because he was not really taught how to express properly that he cares, he always viewed that as being weak. he'll ask you why and he won't let you live until he's got his answer. he will actually try to reason with you and he can be pretty convincing. what's surprising, he's not even mad, he's in his 'look at me' mode, which means he won't give up, he refuses to become a failure once again. he'll go great lengths just to prove you that you both can still do it, he will actually try to change his behaviour, but it's not the problem. it's such a horrible scene to look at, actually, it's unbearable to see how desperate and pitiful he'll be at times, when he still craves your attention. at some point he might even beg you, and he genuinely might not remember this later. but the main problem is, he can't grasp on a simple fact that you don't really want to do anything about him anymore. and the moment he gets it, like, really gets it, it's over for you. he himself can't really comprehend what he feels about you now, hatred or it's still love. his feelings are very strong and he's pretty emotionally driven so like with shigaraki you better keep your distance. it won't help much with your own feelings tho, because of his inability of showing emotions of consciousness, he'll blame you as well as his family for what he'll become. unlike shigaraki, he has no one to hold on to, and he's far from being as composed as hawks. so the things he'll do... you'll probably regret you've met him.

hawks

his reaction is quite plain and simple, especially in comparison to the two above. he'll ask why, of course, but he won't argue with your feelings. he can't really force you to be with him nor simply love him. so he'll let you go without making a scene, really peaceful to you, and to him - well. just like for dabi, it takes a lot for him to start a relationship. he's not trusting at all, he's bad with understanding his own (let alone others) feelings. so he actually needs to take this all into consideration and in the end still chose you, for him to get in a realtionship. and now you've ended it all - not your fault, but he definitely feels, like it's on him. even when it's not. his confidence is slowly lowering, slowly he'll become even more closed off. unlike shigaraki or dabi, there's no need to avoid him, but meeting him is pretty awkward for sure. he doesn't like to be near you anymore, he won't shout it in your face, but you'll definitely feel the change. with time, he becomes more and more aloof near you, and not in a calming and peaceful way. if you work together, and you get scolded, he'll just watch. he won't cheer you up later, in fact, he won't say a word to you. if you need help, he won't land a hand anymore. you thought you were ready for it, but that's not quite what you were expecting. because he'll continue to watch you living your life, until one day he feels like he can't quite figure out, what was that he'd find so endearing in you before. the first time after you two break up he feels some sort of relief. now he can move on.

[givemea-dam-break]

like real people do (anthony lockwood x reader)

a/n: anthony bloody lockwood is hozier coded you cannot convince me otherwise!! i considered making this a locklyle fic, but i wasn't too sure. let me know if you guys want me to write a locklyle version lol. this is shorter than my usual, but i was listening to hozier and got inspired lmao

warnings: mentions of panic attacks gn reader

In the darkness, you can feel his fingers wrapped around yours and the faint pulse beating within them, steady and assuring. His hand is warm, and the knowledge that he is simply next to you, holding your hand so tenderly, is enough to soothe the horrible beating of your heart and the tightness of your throat.

He doesn't need to say anything. He's never needed to, for he understands the tornado that tore through your mind and stole the air from your lungs. Many nights have been spent in the reverse of this, with you holding him as he gasps and cries. It's a horrible situation to be in for both of you, but you've adapted. What else could you do?

So, as he so gently brushes the hair from your face, you breathe in the familiar scent of too-bitter tea as if it is the very thing keeping you alive.

"You're safe," he murmurs. "I'm here."

He is. He always has been. Ever since you met, he's been there, pulling you from the bad memories that have always clung to you. He's the reason why the nightmares are less frequent now, why you feel safe enough to sleep at night. But never once has he pushed to know what causes it all. And neither have you.

It's astounding how little you can know about a person, and how little they know about you, and yet still be their biggest source of solace.

Anthony Lockwood has been that for you for years, now. Ever since you moved to London, running from a past you feared you'd never escape, he has kept you safe, has comforted you whenever you've needed it without a single question. He's let you keep your secrets, and you've let him keep his, but you're both always there, waiting with a net to catch the broken pieces, and glue to put them back together.

You had never expected to find such a person in London. In all honesty, you came here only to run and hide, but you found him in the process, led by some string of fate. Everything you did in your first few days here led you to him as if some part of your subconscious knew he was waiting for someone to catch, someone to fall on.

Gently, he guides your head to his chest, where you let it rest as you listen to his heartbeat. With each strong pulse, you breathe in the scent of him and the promise of recuperation.

Wordlessly, his free hand rubs your back softly, and you find it easier to breathe now. It's as if with each brush of his hand, he reopens a part of your lungs.

"How are you feeling?" he asks quietly.

Your throat hurts and your voice is weak, but you say, "Better."

Not good. Not even okay. Just better. The world doesn't feel as though it is crashing on top of you now, nor does it feel like your lungs are being squeezed of every last vestigial of air they hold. You feel a little lighter, but your throat aches. Your chest hurts. Your skin feels strange and like it's not even yours. But you're better than before. It's an improvement.

He presses a gentle kiss on the back of your head. "Want some tea?"

"It's three in the morning."

"It's never stopped us before."

You can practically hear his smile. "Okay."

You're grateful that he brings you with him, that he doesn't leave you alone in the dark. No, he takes your hand so delicately as if he's worried it'll crumble if he holds it too hard, and he leads you quietly from the floor of the library down, down, down, to the kitchen.

He doesn't turn on the light, instead opting to open the fridge door and use that for light. Every so often, he shuts it and reopens it to prevent the little warning alarm inside from going off, but you appreciate it nonetheless. The big light would be far too blinding and disorientating. In no time, he's made both of you a cup of tea and sets the steaming mugs down atop the cluttered thinking cloth. Now, he shuts the fridge and opens the blinds.

It's summer, and although it's still the early hours of the morning, the sky is no longer an all-consuming inky black, but rather a dark navy that you know will get lighter. Pathetic fallacy, if you've ever seen it.

As Lockwood sips his tea, one of his hands always stays wrapped around yours as a reminder. He's here. You're not alone. Breathe. He's here.

There is no person you could ever be more grateful for than him. Throughout it all - the fall-outs you've had, the worst of your breakdowns, the worst of his - he has never left your side. He has always taken your hand in his and led you from the endless dark and into the slowly-rising sun.

You may not have been looking for him when you moved, but you'll always be glad that you found him.

And, so, as he kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, your cheeks, your smile slowly returns. You're not perfect, nor is he, and your pasts have left you with more than you can handle, but he is slowly guiding you away from it all, as you are him. Like real people do.

[bellysoupset]

Sicily - Part 2

Vince's mom had taken one look at Bella's greyish complexion and promptly adopted her for the evening.

Bella couldn't be more glad, everything felt like too much and she was so frustrated that this was her first ever international trip and yet she was too busy getting sick in an airport trashcan to truly enjoy it.

Lucas was fretting, as usual, his hands never quite leaving her and Bella felt near tears as they went through the airport security and were told they still had to wait one hour before departure started.

"Here sweetheart," Magda help up a ginger ale plastic bottle, with a straw sticking out, "your poor thing, come here, let me put up your hair."

Luke had put her curls into a losing ponytail, but Magda's hands weren't as overprotectively gentle as his. She firmly pulled all the hair and tied it in a knot.

"There you go," Mrs. Monacelli said in a sympathetic manner, sat down on the bench next to her and rubbing her back, "take a sip of your ginger tea, Bella."

Bell let out a groan, wrapping an arm around her stomach and leaning forward, resting her forehead on Luke's thigh, since he was standing over them and looking frantic.

"I don't think it'll stay down," she said in a miserable voice and Maggie hushed her quickly.

"Try it anyways, Bella," she insisted, steadying Bell's hand and the ginger took a small little sip, immediately bracing for the nausea that was sure to follow.

She had already thrown up everything Lucas had tried to feed her since 6 AM, so it was to her absolute surprise when the bitter-not-sweetened ginger tea stayed down.

Bella straightened up a little bit, causing Luke to crouch in front of her, while Maggie continued to rub her back.

"Bella? Are you alright? Do you need the bin?" he had stolen a huge trashcan from outside a restaurant thirty minutes before. Bella shook her head, opening a small smile.

"No, I think it's stay down," she frowned, "I tried ginger ale, how-"

"When I was pregnant with Livia this was the only thing that worked," Mrs. Monacelli said, patting Bell's thigh, "keep taking small sips, sweetheart."

Bella tried hard not to blush at what the older woman was implying and she waited until Maggie walked back to their little group of people, promptly fussing with Leo, fixing his shirt.

"I think ma's convinced I'm pregnant," Bella scoffed, leaning her head and resting it on Lucas' shoulder when he sat down next to her. He chuckled, kissing her forehead.

"Of course she is, she's a lady in her late fifties with three kids and who never got sick except for morning sickness. Cut her some slack."

"You've got such a soft spot for her," Bella smiled, continuing to sip the horrible bitter tea, "if I throw up this tea I'm going to cry."

Luke snorted, wrapping his arms around her, "let's hope it doesn't come to that, otherwise you'll make me cry too."

"Shut up," Bella giggled, hiding her face in his chest as she waited for the painfully long minutes to pass.

Lucas' shoulders were just dropping by the time they finally got inside the plane and in their designated seats. Wendy had done the planning of seats, in fact she had done 98% of all planning, all Lucas had done was convince Mrs. Monacelli that it was absolutely his pleasure to pay for their tickets and he'd be very offended if they didn't take it.

However, Lucas had the irkling suspicion Wendy had made a mistake when she put Jonah and Leo sitting right in front of Bella and him. Across the aisle Wendy was sitting alongside Vince, his parents a seat before them and Sophia ahead, with Livia.

"I just hope I don't get airsick," Leo said, his eyes the size of saucers as he sat down by the window and glued his nose to it, "this is so exciting."

Luke smiled, reaching over the seats to mess the blonde's hair, "wait until we're in the air and you can watch the sun setting in the clouds. It's great."

Next to him, Bella let out a sigh and collapsed on the seat, curling up against the window and shivering violently. Lucas cupped her face, expecting to meet a fever, but her skin was cold and clammy.

"I'm not sick," she rolled her eyes, taking his hand in hers and kissing his palm, "just carsick, I don't know."

"I sure hope it wears off," Jonah said in a somber manner and Lucas glared at his head.

"Fuck off, Jonah," he said in a protective manner, when Bella let out a groan at the comment and curled up further in her seat. Lucas glared at the back of Jon's seat, quelling the urge to kick it. Instead he channeled the annoyance into pulling Bella to lie against his arm, kissing the top of her head and humming softly.

The first one hour of the trip was uneventful. Leo had let out a squeal when they got off the ground, causing all three of them who were close enough to hear it to chuckle. Jonah seemed cautious at first, asking in the softest of voice "feeling alright? No airsickness?" that had Lucas rolling his eyes. So much for sympathy.

However Leo wasn't airsick. If anything, he sounded annoyed as he said, "you have any idea how many trips I spent hunched over the side of the road when I could've flown!? We're never ever again driving anywhere."

"Oh no, we created a monster," Jonah teased, shutting up Leo's offended retort with a kiss, "okay, we're flying."

Lucas bit down a smile at the sight, turning his head to look at Bella. She was still pressed to his arm, but now he noticed she wasn't asleep like he had thought, but painfully awake and with her eyes shut, mouth pressed in a thin line.

"Bell?"

"I'm fine," she groaned, in a hoarse voice, "can I have some water?"

"Yeah, here-" he reached in his seat's pocket, handing her the chilled water bottle and his girlfriend didn't unglue herself from him, almost as if she was using him as an anchor.

Bella took a small sip, before screwing it shut again and holding it to her forehead. Lucas frowned, leaning in and whispering, "are you feeling sick again?"

She nodded quietly and he undid both their seatbelts, urging her up, "c'mon, baby-" Bella gladly accepted his hand, allowing Luke to pull her up and gently guide her down the hall towards the bathrooms.

The flight assistant frowned as they both entered the bathroom, opening her mouth to warn them they were not allowed, but Bella interrupted the poor woman before she could say anything by jerking forward, a hand pressed to her lips.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Here," Lucas pushed the door open, shutting it on the flight assistant's face and rushing to steady Bella on her feet as she almost collapsed in front of the toilet, barely gagging before she was bringing all the tea up in one powerful retch.

"You're alright, get it up," Lucas said softly, crouching down so he could better hold her, making sure no stray curl got near her face and rubbing her back. His large hand pushing between her shoulder blades made Bella gag again and she let out a whimper, spitting a pathetic amount of bile in the toilet and hitting the flush, wincing at the horrible suction noise that followed.

She crumpled against him, struggling to breathe, a hand open in her chest as she hiccupped and couldn't fight some sick burps, "fuck, I- I can't breathe."

Lucas' stomach froze at the line and his face suddenly felt fuzzy, but his hands were acting before his brain caught up, "you're panicking, baby, sit up straight, look up-" he pushed her back so Bella wasn't so hunched into herself and fanned her face, letting out a small relieved sigh when he could feel her lungs filling up with air under his hand still resting on her back, "there you go."

Bella spluttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "I'm done," she said, her voice shot after so much heaving, "help me up."

He helped her up and to wash her face, getting back to their seats as the distraught flight assistant trailed behind them.

"Here you go, miss," the girl said, handing Bella a handful of airsickness bags and a new water bottle, "would you like some nausea medication?"

"Yes, please," Luke nodded, taking the items when it was clear Bella wasn't moving a muscle from her curled up position in the seat, "and maybe a blanket? She's shivering."

"Of course, I'll be right back."

Leo immediately turned on his seat as soon as the girl left, frowning, "Bell? Can we help somehow?"

"No," Bella groaned, leaning into Lucas to steal his warmth, "I just need to sleep this off."

"Is this airsickness or do you think it's a bug?" Leo, bless his soul, continued to prod and Luke couldn't help but be glad when Jonah grabbed his wrist and pulled Leo back sitting down, saying "leave Bell alone, Leo, she's not feeling well."

Bella refused any water when the flight assistant got back, taking the two orange pills with one gulp and curling up against Luke again, poking his rib, "sing?"

He let out a scoff, faking amusement he didn't feel when he was this worried, "of course, c'mere," Lucas wrapped her up in the blanket, opening her seat belt so she could lie almost entirely on him and started to whisper sing some old 90s song he couldn't remember where he knew the lyrics from.

He expected for the meds to help her fall asleep and it seemed like it was the case, because thankfully she didn't stir at all when the flight assistants started serving lunch and the noise level in the plane increased considerably.

"You have to eat," Vince startled Lucas out of his trance, poking his rib hard, "switch places with me, I'm finished already."

Lucas frowned, confused and Vin pointed Bella, asleep in his lap, "I can keep an eye on her, go eat," he ushered his best friend out, gently lifting Bella's head from Luke's bicep and taking his place.

Bella slept through most of lunch, which Vince was thankful for, but she woke up towards the end, leaning further in so she could press her mouth to his arm, "Lucas kill me."

"Not Luke and I can't do that, sorry," he said, causing her to jump and look up, surprised.

"Vin!... Where's Luke?" Bella frowned, glancing around, "don't tell me he got sick too-"

"No, we switched places so he could've lunch," Vince stopped her right there, "how are you, Bells?"

"Dying," she answered, reaching over him to grab the water bottle and taking a sip, leaning her head to rest it on the seat before her. Vince planted a hand on her back and waited for Bell straighten up, but instead she took another gulp of water, then another, throat bobbing dangerously.

He pulled back, looking around for the airsickness bag and fishing one out of the pocket before his seat, snapping it open, "here, don't puke on Leo's hair, god knows he spent an hour styling it-" he said in a humorous way, hoping to take her mind off of the horrible queasiness.

It was to no avail. With another sick gulp, Bella grabbed the bag and brought it up to her mouth, letting out a wet belch as the water came right back up. Vince cringed in sympathy, one hand in her back, the other steading the bag and he heard a groan from the seat before his.

"Fuck, I just ate," Jonah said, hunching over, "Bella stop."

Bella was not hearing him at all as her shoulders shook with another painful dry heave and then she managed to spit a mouthful of bile, whole body shaking, "I'm sorry, I'm- My head hurts, everythinghurts'sorry-" she slurred, tears starting to stream down the corner of her eyes and Vince started to panic.

"No, beautiful, you're fine. You're sick, it's not your fault," he said, snapping the sickness bag shut and grabbing another one, "you're empty, take deep breaths-"

Bella proved him wrong when another gag brought up hot, bitter tea all over the bag, his hand, hitting the ground with a splash. It was basically just water, so it wouldn't smell in the long run, but it did smell like stomach acid and Jonah let out a gag himself, grumbling "fucking god, stOP" and cupping his mouth.

"Here," Vince threw the two remaining bags over the seat, not worried at all about Jon's delicate stomach when Bella was crying and apologizing profusely for puking all over his hand, "no, Bells, it's okay, this is nothing-"

Jonah heaved, loudly, and Leo's voice followed, soothing him and repeating, "babe, she's not even throwing up anymore, calm down-"

Bella burst into ugly sobs, "I'm so sorry, I-I'm ruining the trip, I-"

"No, honey, you're fine, everyone's fine-" Vince replied, hating how helpless he felt about both his friends, "take a deep breath, you're just gonna make yourself sicker-"

"I got her," Lucas interrupted him, appearing right next to his seat, "move."

Vince wasn't offended with his curt manners, he had witnessed Luke in caretaker mode enough times to know his tunnel vision got bad and especially when regarding Bella. Vin quickly moved out of the way, to the hallway and noticing how many people were staring.

Wendy and his parents and sister from across the row and the poor flight assistant... Many other strangers. Jonah was still hunched over a sick bag and Vince grimaced as he realized he had actually thrown up. The plastic bag was squeezed in his tight fist and Jon's head was buried in Leo's neck as he stifled some nauseated groans, Leo rubbing his back.

"Here," Vince sighed, feeling a wash of guilt with how careless he had been too, "let me take this," he grabbed the sickbag from Jonah and the man lifted up his face, a big dark frown on, but brows softening as he let go of the bag.

"Thanks..."

"It's fine," Vince sighed, switching the bag to his left hand that was currently absolutely sticky and disgusting and using his clean hand to pass Jonah a water bottle.

Before him, Lucas had managed to quiet down Bell's sobs and unwrap her from the blankets. Her face was still red from crying as Luke picked her up, Bell letting out a moan with the movement, but not moving from cocoon in his arms.

"You and Wendy switch with us," Luke bossed, lifting Bella up and tightly to his chest as they navigated the rows of people. Wendy immediately shot up from her seat as Luke approached, crouching down next to it in order to cup Bell's face.

"Hey..." she said in a gentle manner, "give me your arm, honey."

"What...?" Bell was completely out of it as she offered her arm, limply. Wendy moved back, getting on her tippy toes to grab her carry on bag and Vince frowned, taking it with his clean hand, the sickbag still in his other one.

"I got it, here" he said, taking the pink bag and planting it on the empty seat that used to be his, was now Luke's.

Wendy unzipped it, pushing aside a bunch of plastic bottles, lipsticks and grabbed a little clear pouch, unzipping it too. She wrapped a sea-band around Bella's wrist, clicking it shut, then moved to a different pocket of her carry on, opening a medication cardboard box and popping out a little tiny pill, "under your tongue, let it melt."

"Thanks," Bella mumbled, barely able to keep her head up and Wendy shrugged, leaning in and kissing her brow.

"Feel better," she said, then to Lucas, who looked ready to burst out of his own skin, Wendy opened a reassuring smile and passed him the box, "that should knock her the eff out, but she can have another one in four hours."

"Thank you," Luke said in a tiny, choked up voice, "thanks Wen."

"No problem," Wendy zipped up her carry on back again, finally looking at Vince and then chuckling, "is that your emotional support puke bag?"

"What?" Vince blinked, taken back by the scene and having completely forgotten about the airsickness bag still squeezed in his hand, "oh... Uh, yeah, I guess it is."

She rolled her eyes, pushing him back towards the bathroom to get rid of the bag and wash his hands. Wendy had already gotten the little splash of sick cleaned up from the floor of their new seats and she was lying back, staring out of the window.

"The seasickness band was pretty crafty," Vin said, sitting down next to her with a groan, "do you get airsick?"

Wendy shook her head with a chuckle, "actually, my money was on Leo."

"Oh shut up," Leo scoffed from his seat and Vince couldn't help but notice he was blushing, ear tips turning crimson. Vin smiled, rolling his eyes and intertwining his fingers with Wendy's, tipping his head back and hoping he'd sleep the remaining nine hours of the flight.

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 60: The Waiting Game

Previous chapters // Montserrat’s masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Rafael Barba x OC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @averyhotchner​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @abzidabzy​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @hellofutur​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @foxesandmagic​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xovalliegirlxo @sam-i–am @kmc1989 @midmourn @choosejoyangel​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message

When Montserrat woke up from her Nyquill-induced nap, she very quickly realized she slept way more hours than she intended to. It was past noon, almost four. Granted she was truly well rested but that was not the point. She still felt mentally exhausted and wasn't equipped for what had to come next. She had to finally call Lucia and tell her what happened — it was the worst conversation she ever had with the woman. Lucia was livid with Montserrat, to say the least.

"How could you not tell me before!? Why are you barely telling me!?"

Montserrat could barely give her reasons when Lucia went on a rampage in the Spanish and English language to the point where Montserrat couldn't dream of understanding. The only thing Montserrat managed to hear was that Lucia was on her way to the hospital and pretty much cut all ties with his son's girlfriend.

Great. That would be fun explaining to Rafael when he woke up. It was definitely about the last thing he needed in his life right now. After that, Montserrat soon found out that somehow Casey had gotten involved with the whole thing.

"Yeah, that was my fault," Kara said with a hand raised in the air. "I suggested it."

"Why?" Montserrat couldn't understand what a robbery had to do with her cousin at the moment. Then again, she was only really thinking with about a 50% capacity.

Kara understood her mistake too late and was left squandering for a reasonable excuse (otherwise this time Sonny would have a true reason to kill her). "Well, uh, Casey's another prosecutor and she'll maybe take the case? If they find the guy?"

"It's just not her case yet," Montserrat insisted, although it seemed like the heat was now going more towards the situation rather than Kara (or Casey for that matter). "Nobody's been murdered."

"And it'll stay like that," Kara jumped on the chance to provide actual support to her friend. It was hard thinking this could turn into a homicide case rather than attempted murder. "You'll see."

Montserrat would've been more convinced if she didn't have other things on her mind. She kept getting voice-mail for Lucia's number, only reiterating how angry the woman was with her.

"She'll come around," Kara kept insisting as well, "She's stunned, like you were when you first got the call. It's just different. She's his mother, after all. Give her some days."

Montserrat nodded only because there was nothing else she could do, but it didn't mean it wasn't nagging at her in the meantime. "I need to go back to the hospital," she told Kara after lunch. She did Kara the solid of sticking around for that mealtime but it was about all she would do now. She'd been away from the hospital for way too long.

"What are you talking about? It's only been a couple hours," Kara pointed out. She would rather Montserrat stay for a bit more until she was less anxious and stressed.

"It's past noon now!"

"So?" Kara would love to hear an adequate reason why the time even mattered. "Montserrat, you need to rest."

"I already did!" Montserrat exclaimed. "Way more than I planned!"

Kara's eyes flickered to the side for a moment. The nyquil was still under wraps. Her phone started ringing and seeing it was Sonny, she urged Montserrat to wait for another 5 minutes. "Just let me take the call and see what's happened, okay?"

Montserrat groaned. "Fine! But I am leaving as soon as you're done, with or without you!"

Kara nodded and hurried to take the call. Montserrat took the first seconds to try and calm herself down. She didn't want to actually fight with Kara, not with anyone for that matter. They were all walking on eggshells around her already, thinking she was a ticking time bomb. It was hard staying afloat not knowing what the next day would bring, or even the next hour. Tears stung get eyes just thinking about the uncertainty.

Hearing the knock on the door somehow startled her greatly. She went to open it, presuming it would be Sonny on the other side only to find her father instead.

"Dad!" She gasped, stumbling back a step.

"Montserrat, how — woah! What's happened to you?" Thomas of course referred to his daughter's face of anguish.

Immediately, Montserrat whirled around, eyes wide as she took a few steps away from her father. She tried wiping her eyes quickly. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I got the day off and since it's been a while, I thought we could have lunch,, but..." Thomas trailed off, reaching forward for his daughter's shoulder. He gently turned her around and saw the same face as before, only this time it was slightly redder from the fervent rubbing at the eyes. "Now I'm seeing it's longer than I thought. Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Dad," Montserrat shook her father's hand off her shoulder. "Just a rough day, that's all."

"No, no, no," Thomas shook his head, "Don't try to kid me. I know you, Montserrat. You've been crying and it looks like it's been going on for a while. What's happened?"

"Nothing, sheesh!" Montserrat exclaimed. Of course she would've been more convincing if her voice hadn't shaken towards the end. How the hell am I a detective? "Look, I can't do lunch today. Can we schedule another day?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Thomas declared, crossing his arms, "It looks like you've got explaining to do, young lady."

Montserrat glared at her father. This was the last thing she needed right now. Despondence, anxiety, and anger mixed into one did not bode well for anybody in the room. "Dad, I don't have time for this. Can we do this another day, please?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow at his daughter. Usually it was all he needed to warn her she was crossing a line with him.

She still knew that.

But she didn't back down this time.

"You've got 5 seconds to tell me what's going on with you," Thomas warned. "Five…four…"

Montserrat gawked at her father with incredulity. "Dad, you can't treat me like I'm five—"

"Three…two—"

"Dad, seriously!"

"One—"

"I SAID STOP!" Montserrat unintentionally yelled at her father.

Thomas was dumbfounded with such a frantic reaction from his daughter. Tears were coming to Montserrat's eyes and though it was partially out of guilt, there was something deeper going on. "Montserrat," he tried again, softly, "Sweetheart, what's—"

"Can you just go? I'm actually leaving right now too," Montserrat gestured to the door behind Thomas. "I have to—"

"Montserrat!" Kara called from the hallway seconds before emerging. "Sonny says he'll be by in 15 and he can take us to the hospital."

"Hospital!?" Thomas exclaimed.

Kara's eyes widened. She had no idea they were no longer alone. "Oops…"

Montserrat let out a heavy sigh. "Dad—"

"Why do you need to go to the hospital!?" Thomas started demanding. "Are you hurt?" He went to check himself but Montserrat swatted his hands away.

"Dad, stop!"

"Why do you need to go!? Do you feel alright? What am I saying — it's obvious you're not feeling well! You've been crying!"

"She has," Kara agreed solemnly.

"KARA!" Montserrat said loudly enough to make Kara flinch. "SHUT UP!"

"Don't yell at Kara like that," Thomas reprimanded his daughter, "Answer my question. Why are you going to the hospital right now?"

"Because…" Montserrat racked her head for a good answer that wouldn't give away such a terrible situation.

"Are you hurt?"

"No!"

"Then why—"

"Oh, just stop!" Montserrat resorted to pleading, something downright shocking to her father. "Please! Just stop!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as the weight of each of her problems finally culminated into one heavy load on her shoulders. "I'm not hurt! At least not physically because trust me, everything else right now hurts! I'm going to the hospital because my boyfriend's there because he's been shot, okay!? He's been shot and he hasn't woken up since it happened and I want to be there when he does — if he does! Now please stop berating me and just—" Montserrat ran into her father's arms where she finally burst into tears.

Thomas was utterly stunned. For the first couple of seconds, nothing of what Montserrat said had sunk in so while she hugged him, his arms were awkwardly on either side of him. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, he met Kara's gaze. She nodded to confirm everything Montserrat had said. Her grim expression helped sell it too.

"When...when did you get a boyfriend?" Thomas looked down at his daughter but at the question, Montserrat only whimpered and retreated further into him, desperate to be hugged back. Thomas slowly did so, bringing one hand over her back and the other behind her head. "O-okay, um…that's...that's...bad..." He sighed. He was terrible when it came to things like these. Montserrat's teenage years had been quite an adventure in terms of boyfriends and dating but now at 30? He didn't know which age was worse. "I'm—I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he ultimately said, "Really. I — how did this happen?"

Montserrat pulled away to take a deep breath. Her face was stained with tears. "A robbery. The guy was trying to rob the shop Rafael was at and then he just shot...he shot…"

Kara remained absolutely silent and lowered her head. It killed her to keep the truth of the situation a secret from Montserrat. But if she knew the truth, it would make her feel even worse, she reminded herself.

"Okay, okay," Thomas cupped Montserrat's face, "Wipe those tears. We can go to the hospital right now."

"You'd come with me?" Montserrat sniffed. "You're not mad I didn't tell you—"

"It does not matter right now," Thomas said, "Besides, you're a grown woman — as tough as that is to deal with — and you can make whatever choices you want."

"I was going to tell you. That's why I asked about having dinner, remember?"

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, and I told you I was going out on a trip for a whole month. Okay, that was my fault then."

"Dad, you would really like him. I mean, he's sort of a smart-ass but then again so is Gael."

Thomas let out a low laugh. "Oh, is it just Gael?"

"Of course, why do you ask?"

Thomas barely held his next laugh in. "Right." He gave Montserrat a kiss on the forehead. "Are you ready to go?"

Montserrat nodded fairly quickly. "Yes, please, let's go!"

"Kara?" Thomas looked at the blonde behind them.

Kara waved them off with a hand. "I'll wait for my boyfriend. He was already on his way. Plus, I think there'll be a lot of talking done on that drive."

Thomas wholeheartedly agreed with her. His eyes drifted over to Montserrat who had the energy to appear more nervous than before. "Ready?"

Montserrat wasn't so sure anymore. Still, a ride to the hospital meant she would practically do anything.

~0~

Thomas started slowly, cautiously, and for that Montserrat appreciated but it didn't make things any less awkward nor tense.

"Dating your co-worker — isn't that against the rules?" Thomas wondered out loud. He stopped at an upcoming red light, giving him the opportunity to glance at his daughter.

Her tear-stained face was finally getting a glimpse of light. She had stopped crying for the moment — she just needed to clean her face.

"Not if you disclose," she answered quietly, "Which we did."

"Ah, okay, um...when was that?"

"Dunno, two months ago? Time sort of blurred…"

"Time 'blurred'?" Thomas let out a small chuckle.

Montserrat glanced at him, eyebrows knitted together. "What?" Her voice couldn't go any louder than a quiet tone. If not, she would've demanded the explanation.

"Nothing...it's just...usually when you feel like time has 'blurred', it's because you've been having a good time," Thomas explained. At the green light, he was no longer able to look at her.

Maybe it was for the best.

Montserrat shifted in her seat. She was not about to go into detail about her relationship to her father. "It's been different," she left it at that. It wasn't a lie but it didn't outright expose her either.

Thomas hummed. "I can see that. I've never seen you so distressed over someone like this."

"To be fair, none of my other boyfriends have ever been shot."

Thomas let out a small laugh. "True, but I also meant in general. I've noticed you've been more, uh, content lately. Because I don't know what made you leave behind your old job and place in Queens, but I know that you haven't been happy in a while. I like the change."

"I'm sorry for that," Montserrat mumbled, eyes downcast. However painful it was for her, she imagined it had to have been hard for her father as well. She wasn't the kindest to him in the beginning. She did what a victim typically does: push people away. She thought she did it perfectly. She left her old friends in Queens, her job. She put distance between her father, her brother, even her nieces, and Kara. She became a good liar, indeed.

"I wasn't expecting an apology," Thomas clarified, "And I certainly didn't need one. I'm your father. I just want to know that you're okay."

Montserrat smiled lightly. "I can tell you that before all of this, I was more than okay."

Thomas nodded. "I believe it. You were...happier, more than I'd seen you in a very long time. I would love to say that you were your old self again but it still isn't like that."

"Dad, I don't think I'll ever be the same as before," Montserrat said, figuring it was best to shatter that dream right now than let it keep going without a future. "But that's okay because the way I felt before all this, it was damn great." Her breathlessness was enough to take her word for it. It sounded like even she couldn't believe it.

Truthfully, sometimes she still couldn't.

It took very little for Montserrat to become accustomed to the idea of always feeling miserable on the inside and overall like she was simply floating through life. She had resigned herself to the idea that it would always be like that from now on. But things changed again and she couldn't be more grateful. It would be beyond cruel to lose it all again. Actually, Montserrat couldn't see herself getting past it all over again if she lost Rafael.

"No more tears," came Thomas' voice.

Montserrat snapped out of her thoughts to find there were new tears rolling down her cheeks. "Sorry," she sniffed, wiping the tears off with the backs of her hands.

"No need to be," Thomas told her, "I'm so sorry this is happening, sweetie. But let's have some faith that it'll be okay in the end."

"To be honest Dad…" Montserrat let out a low sigh, "I don't really do the 'faith' thing a lot anymore."

Thomas nodded silently. It wasn't much of a surprise. "The things you see at your job can't leave much hope in the world, I know."

"Mhm," Montserrat nodded. She could let her father believe it was all because of her job. It would be easier for him that way.

"But in times like these...who do you turn to for strength?" Thomas asked curiously. "People pray to God, or other saints or something. What do you pray to?"

"Nothing," Montserrat admitted. It had been a very long time since she turned to any type of religious prayer. She was non-practicing Catholic at this point. Don't tell Lucia. "Right now, I just think about Rafael and how he's strong enough to come back. You should see him in action, Dad. If I were that guy who shot him, I'd run. I've been on the receiving end a couple times and Rafael doesn't play. And I've only gotten a small taste of the real thing. He's scary. Ask Kara."

Thomas let out a small laugh. "Knowing you, you probably kept it going."

Montserrat nodded. "Hell yeah. He's not right until I say he's right." She shifted in her seat. "Although right now, I'd give anything to hear his smart-ass remarks. An argument. Anything."

Thomas stretched a hand out until he was able to find Montserrat's. "It'll be okay."

Montserrat didn't say much after that. She couldn't wait to see the end of the drive and be at the hospital again. Nick had tried sending her messages but it didn't look like the service in the hospital was doing so well. All his texts were coming in as 'incoming message'. It left Montserrat even more anxious. What if something happened while she was away!?

She practically ran through the hospital, leaving her father to do his best to keep up. "Nick!?" She called as soon as she saw the man in the waiting room. "Your messages weren't coming through! Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded, eyes flickering past Montserrat to her father.

"That's my Dad," Montserrat said dismissively. She had no times for introductions right now. "What happened!? Is Raf—"

"He's awake," Nick thankfully cut Montserrat off. He presumed that she had assumed the worst with his answer.

The relief that washed over Montserrat was monumental and yet so short-lived. Nick didn't understand why.

"I wasn't here," she whispered, eyes falling, "I wasn't here for him. God — I told you people I shouldn't have left!"

"Montserrat, you needed to rest," Nick said, "Besides, he woke up like 15 minutes ago. His mom's in there with him right now." Apparently, he'd something really bad because Montserrat's face had paled to a ghostly shade.

"What?" She asked, sounding like she'd lost air as well. "N-n-n-n-no, tell me she just got here too. Please."

"Uuh…" Nick was utterly confused but he still had to answer with the truth and it was not what Montserrat wanted to hear. "She got here an hour ago."

"Crap," Montserrat let out a heavy sigh.

"Montserrat, what's wrong?" Thomas asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You should be happy!"

"I am," Montserrat clarified, "But you don't understand. Lucia got very upset with me because I didn't call her immediately when this happened. I called her this morning instead because I thought there was no reason she should lose sleep when I was already here, waiting to hear how the surgery went. She didn't agree. She thought she should've been notified immediately."

"Okay, well, that was then, this is now. Things will change now that Rafael's awake. She was probably very scared too."

"I bet she was," Montserrat agreed, "But she's Rafael's mother. Where do you think he gets his temper from?"

Nobody would answer her. It was better to stay quiet and to help move things along, Olivia arrived shortly afterwards. She'd gotten the call from the doctors themselves as was protocol.

"Is he capable of answering?" She asked the two detectives.

"He might be too tired to remember things right now," Nick said, "I was with him for 10 minutes and he barely said anything about what happened."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it," Montserrat said. "And he shouldn't if he's not ready."

Olivia nodded with her. "Yes, but it's worth asking, don't you think?"

The detective in Montserrat would make her agree but the civilian side of her made her shake her head. That was the part of her that wanted everyone to stay the hell away from Rafael until he was all better.

"There's his mom," Nick said when he saw Lucia emerging from the hallway.

Montserrat immediately pressed her clothes down as if Lucia were going to point them out and add to her fuel against Montserrat. She made herself front front center when Lucia joined them.

"How is he?" She immediately asked the older woman. "Is he — is he talking? Does anything hurt?"

"He had a bullet in his body so yes, he is in pain," Lucia answered sharply enough to have Montserrat wincing each time.

"Excuse me," Thomas cut in just as Montserrat was about to go on. He moved around Nick and Olivia to stand beside his daughter. "There's no need to be that kind of rude. You're both stressed and frightened."

"And who are you?" Lucia demanded, eyebrow raising.

"This is my father," Montserrat said hastily, truly wanting to avoid any kind of confrontation.

"Thomas Novak," Thomas introduced himself, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak to my daughter like that."

Lucia didn't appreciate the tone used on her either. "Lucia Barba," she introduced herself in the same tone as Thomas, "And your daughter knows exactly why I'm upset." She crossed gazes with Montserrat.

"I'm sorry," Montserrat reiterated, sighing. "I didn't want you to go through a sleepless night. You nor Catalina."

"Don't take decisions that don't belong to you," Lucia retorted, "When it comes to my son, I need to be informed about everything that happens to him. I don't know why I didn't get the call in the first place. Do you?"

Montserrat lowered her head. She preferred not to answer for the moment.

"There's no need to argue," Olivia stepped in as well, "We all want the same thing, don't we? For Rafael to get better?"

"Of course," Lucia said incredulously. How dare they think otherwise?

"Okay," nodded Olivia, "Then I'd like to see him right now. I think Montserrat as well."

Montserrat nodded fervently. "I do," she said.

"Don't bother him with the unnecessary, please," Lucia warned as the two women started walking around her.

"I would never," Montserrat said sharply. "But I do want to catch whoever did this to him. And I will."

She followed Olivia down the hallway, preferring not to look back. She couldn't take whatever look Lucia must be giving her right now. She didn't have the head for it either.

"Montserrat," Olivia called twice before she was heard, "Forgive me for intruding but, have you taken some time for yourself with all this going on?"

"Are you kidding? I slept way more than I should have!" Montserrat exclaimed. "He woke up and I wasn't here!"

"I don't mean that," Olivia shook her head. "With this kind of stuff, I presume you would want to go see your therapist?"

"I don't have time for that!" Montserrat said dismissively. "I need to be here!"

Olivia suspected that mindset long before she got the courage to ask Montserrat. "It's important that you take care of yourself first. I'm sure Rafael would say the same thing."

It honestly didn't matter to Montserrat right now. She just wanted to reach the damn room herself and see with her own eyes that Rafael was awake. That's all she wanted. Olivia must have seen it because she didn't mention therapy again for the rest of the walk.

They didn't make a sound when they finally entered the room. If Rafael was really asleep, neither wanted to wake him. Questions would wait. But, as soon as they were in sight, Montserrat saw Rafael wide awake. He seemed a bit dazed but lucid enough to recognize them.

Montserrat forgot all about her conversation with Olivia and rushed forward. "Hii…" She said breathlessly, "You're still awake! You should be sleeping."

"I've done enough sleeping," Rafael muttered, sounding a lot more like himself than Montserrat (and Olivia) expected. He was definitely irritated enough to be himself.

Montserrat grinned widely at his response. She absolutely loved seeing him act like he usually would — it meant he was getting better! She reached for his hand, immediately gripping it. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I-I should've been, I know, but…"

Rafael watched Montserrat in a more dazed manner again — his mind went in and out with all the meds he was on.

This, Olivia presumed and since Montserrat seemed too upset with herself to notice, Olivia decided to cut in and help them both out. "Now, Montserrat, I think it's okay," she started slowly, watching Montserrat lower her head out of utter guilt, "You had to go home and rest too." Olivia looked at Rafael who was still trying to make sense of Montserrat's long ramble. "She was here all of last night and Carisi and Amaro and sent her home to sleep and eat."

"Well — why are you apologizing then?" Rafael glanced at Montserrat, eyebrows knitting together with confusion. "It's not like I noticed, right? I was in surgery. At least that's what my mother told me?"

"Is that all she told you?" Montserrat asked rather curiously and slightly worried. She grabbed a chair and sat down beside the bed.

"She said a lot of things but honestly, I tuned her out," Rafael drew in a breath, "The mess might be a blessing in disguise, you know."

"Ha…" Montserrat smiled lightly. That sounded a lot more like him. It truly relieved some of her anxiety. "Still, I'm really sorry. I did want to be here but I…I sort of overslept and…"

"I promise you that I am okay with that," Rafael said, smiling for the first time. "I don't want you forgetting about yourself because of me."

"I'm good, I promise," Montserrat assured, nodding her head fast. She brought their interlocked hands to her mouth, kissing his hand. "I just want you to be okay now. I've been a little crazy."

"A little?" Rafael's smile widened.

"Shut up," Montserrat said hushedly, letting out a small chuckle. She missed this so much. All the nerves were washing out as a familiar warmth flooded her insides.

At the same time, Olivia's phone started buzzing. "I'll be back," she told the two before taking the call.

Montserrat scooted her chair closer to the bed. She held onto Rafael's hand, still keeping her smile. This is all she wanted. Rafael was awake, seemingly recuperating and already taking jabs at her. In all her thoughts, she missed Rafael studying her. He noticed something he truly wished he hadn't. It led to his question.

"How are you?"

Montserrat blinked at first, puzzled with the question. "What — me?" She laughed. "Môj drahý, I'm fine. I'm absolutely fine."

"I'm on some strong medication but I assume you just spoke Slovak but even then…I don't buy it," Rafael said, shaking his head. "You went crazy over me."

"You were shot," Montserrat said, still frazzled having to say that. "What did you think I would do? Happily pass the night with your scotch?"

"Did you save me some, by the way?"

"Rafael," Montserrat warned him not to play jokes right now. "You were shot. It's not funny."

"Oh, I'm not laughing at that," agreed Rafael, "But I am trying to lighten the mood here. I don't want you to worry about me."

"Not right now," Montserrat shook her head, "Don't ask me not to do that when you're here. You have no idea how scared I was when I got the call."

"They called you…" Rafael said, as if realizing something.

"Um, yeah…" Montserrat cleared her throat, "Why did the hospital call me first? Your mother, uh, she was pretty pretty confused about that too."

"Yeah…" Rafael nodded, "Uh…I was going to tell you sometime…definitely not here but…"

"I don't think I've ever heard you ramble so uselessly…" Montserrat laughed almost immediately after saying that.

Rafael deadpanned her for a straight minute while she laughed. "I think I deserve to be cut a little slack, right?"

Montserrat nodded as she did her best to sober from her laugh. "Of course, dear."

It was too late as Rafael was already properly annoyed. "You're my emergency contact," he said in a huff.

Montserrat gasped lightly then, eyebrows raising with pleasant shock. "Am I really?"

"Yes, but you're making me regret it—"

"No, no, I promise I'm good! That's nice to hear, I…" Montserrat could feel the familiar spread of butterflies in her stomach. "When did you…when did you decide to do that?"

"I don't know, a bit back? Is that — are you okay with that?"

"Of course! Yes!" Montserrat was a smiling mess, a deep difference from the past day. She leaned over, carefully, and pressed a kiss on Rafael's lips. "Thank you for that trust in me." There was something else she wanted to desperately say to him but she felt the timing was off and perhaps even imprudent on her part.

Even if Rafael said nothing of it, Montserrat still noticed the subtle scrunch of his nose and the twitch of his mouth every now and then from the pain he obviously felt. He just didn't want to tell her about it — it wasn't shocking for her. He barely got used to the idea of asking her for help in far less serious situations so this situation would require a lot more effort from his side and she wanted to make it as easy as possible for him.

"Do you need anything?" She asked him, "I don't know, like a drink or something? And by that I mean water, of course."

"Damn, and I was just about to ask you for some scotch…"

"I would smack you right now if you weren't hurt!" Montserrat sighed and shook her head. "So listen, I really hate asking you this right now but I need to help so…about that night…"

Rafael already started turning his head away from her. He knew exactly what was coming.

"Do you remember what happened?" Montserrat wanted to be as cautious as possible for his sake. It was physically painful enough and now he would have to deal with any mental trauma he suffered from that evening.

"...a little," he did answer albeit in a low mutter.

"Okay, um, well there is that cashier — Clara?"

At the mention of the young woman, Rafael immediately looked back at Montserrat. "Is she okay!?" He truly didn't remember much after hearing the sound of the gun firing. He was in and out of consciousness but he did have slight memories of the young woman terrified in the shop.

"Yes, she is," Montserrat nodded, smiling lightly. "Did you know she's a med student? I was told she helped keep you stable while the ambulance got to you guys. She called 911. I absolutely love her."

It was Rafael's turn to smile. "Should I be worried?"

Montserrat let out a weary sigh but her broad smile defeated any attempt to sound annoyed. "Shut up."

"I want to tell her thank you," Rafael said a moment later. "She was so scared. I may have yelled at her."

"Lots of people react differently in situations like those. It's a flight or fight thing — you chose fight, she chose flight. All involuntary of course. But please, don't ever choose to 'fight' with a robber."

"Oh, but you can?" Rafael countered on the spot. His smirk didn't help. "You carry — you do that for a living. The way you feel right now is what I always feel about you..."

"I know, I know," sighed Montserrat. This was a conversation she didn't like having because Rafael always had the right. His concerns were right, his points made sense.

Rafael gripped Montserrat's hand as much as he could, which wasn't very much if Montserrat was honest with him. She wouldn't tell him. "I'm not arguing, I'm just telling you this is something we can't control," he told her. "I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't…I didn't see the guy getting up…"

"So you do remember some things, then?"

"Yes…but it's still mostly fuzzy…" If there was one thing Rafael didn't want to do right now, it was having to lie to Montserrat. His gaze lowered to their interlocked hands, which fueled his reasons all over again. "I don't know what they put in my body but I couldn't even tell you my birthday right now."

Montserrat smiled sweetly at him. "I'll make a full list about you when you get home. We can go over it together." She scooted her chair even closer to the bed. "Because when you get out of here, you have two choices about what's going to happen."

"Oh, do I?" Rafael blinked, bemused with the revelation.

Montserrat nodded. "Yup. You have a bullet wound and you need to take care of it. You won't be able to move around so easily — you won't be working," she said the last part as a full on threat in case he had the idea of even discussing the matter. "So, when you get out of here, you can either come home with me where I can help you out."

"Not happening," Rafael said on the spot. "You live with Kara and by extension Carisi. Haven't I been through enough already?"

Montserrat deadpanned him for a short minute. She was honestly expecting a response like that. "Then your other option — and your only other one — is that I come stay with you at your place for a while."

"You'd be willing to do that?"

"Yes, of course. I want to help you and I can't do that if I'm at my own place."

"Montserrat, that's sweet of you and I appreciate it but I don't need help —"

"Yes, you do," Montserrat nodded. This was also something else she anticipated and was well prepared to handle. "Raf, you can't live by yourself right now. Until you can go up and down the stairs on your own, I will be staying with you."

"It's not that the idea of having you around isn't pleasant — because it is — but I don't need you giving up your time just to take care of me." Even as he said it out loud, Rafael thought it was ridiculous. "I can manage on my own. I always do."

"Tough luck because it's not just about you anymore," Montserrat countered with a wry smile, "To your misfortune, and mine, I like you very much. With all your sarcasm and hard attitude, but I like you."

Rafael rolled his eyes at Montserrat. It was, of course, nice to hear something like that but it still didn't take away the feeling of impotence either. There were many things out of his control and Rafael was not used to it.

"Montse—"

"Let me do this, please," Montserrat insisted earnestly. "You're right. I was dead worried about you and, yeah, I want to be close to you for the next couple days because of it. I promise I'll try not to bombard you, okay?" She squeezed his hand in hers. "Please?"

This was a battle he had already lost and Rafael knew it. For all he knew, half her things were already in his apartment. That's not the worst thing that could happen. No, no it absolutely wasn't. Rafael sighed. What he would have given for this conversation to be part of a much better situation than the one they were in right now.

"You can go back home anytime, alright?" He said, instantly earning a beam from Montserrat. "You don't have to stay more than you want and you definitely don't have to do anything for me."

"I don't understand how you graduated from Harvard. You're seriously so stupid," Montserrat said quite honestly, which prompted a hard deadpan from Rafael in return. Montserrat let out a laugh in the next second. "But I want you just the way you are! I missed it all!" She leaned over to give him another kiss. "I missed you," she whispered afterwards. "I know it's insane to say that when we saw each other — what, yesterday? — but I really did miss you so much."

Even while saying it, she still sounded so afraid like he would fall under again. Rafael felt so guilty even while knowing this was way out of his control.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he insisted for her sake. He wished he could get up from the stupid bed and show her — ease her fear and worries. "I don't want you worrying anymore, okay? Calmada."

"I cannot be calm when you're in this situation," Montserrat promptly huffed. "You went ballistic when I had a scratch on my back! I have every right not to be calm about this. Who did this to you? Do you remember anything about the guy?"

Rafael's mind was slow with all the medication, so coming up with a good excuse was even harder than usual. Luckily for him, Olivia returned at that moment.

"Sorry, that was Rollins," the Sergeant said, "She and Fin are going through some possible witnesses." She approached the foot of the bed slowly, both hands in front of her. "Do you think you can give your statement right now?"

Rafael shifted, and in doing so felt a jab of pain on his side.

"Or we could wait…" Olivia said, mistaking his shift for uneasiness.

"I'm good," he said immediately. He glanced at Montserrat, and a moment later he was asking her: "Maybe I do need something after all."

Montserrat nodded. "Anything," she encouraged, "What do you need?"

"A damn glass of water," he said, "They pump meds all night and day and I don't get to eat anything. I'm so thirsty."

"I'll go see what I can do," Montserrat smiled slyly, "Flash my badge and all."

Rafael smiled at her. He knew very well that she would. "Thank you."

"Of course." Montserrat gave his hand a pat then stood up, turning to Olivia. "Keep an eye on him?"

"Oh yeah," Olivia pressed a finger to her cheek then pointed at Rafael.

Montserrat still left with some reluctance, especially when Olivia mentioned that Lucia was asking for her.

"My mother's still here?" Rafael asked, eyebrows raised.

Olivia nodded. "Oh yeah, she's made it clear she's not stepping away for a while."

"She should go home, like you all. I don't need babysitters," Rafael said, shaking his head.

"Oh no, you're not paying Montserrat with that coin when she's had to deal with your mother."

At Olivia's words, Rafael turned his head slightly. "What do you mean by that? Has she been giving Montserrat a hard time?" He wouldn't put it behind his mother given the situation.

Olivia reluctantly nodded. "Yeah. Novak made the call to inform your mother about the situation earlier in the morning. She didn't want Lucia going through a sleepless night like her, much less your grandmother. Lucia didn't like that."

"Is she kidding?" Rafael snapped, not at Olivia but at the situation. "She just told me she hasn't told my grandmother anything about this." He loved his mother, he did, but sometimes she could be a…

"Montserrat didn't tell you?" Olivia assumed with Rafael's reaction. "She probably didn't want to add to your stress."

"Of course," groaned Rafael, although he soon stopped when he discovered it hurt him. "I'll have a word with my mother."

"Sorry," Olivia said guiltily, "I didn't mean to…you know…"

"No, I'm glad you did," said Rafael sharply, "Because Montserrat wouldn't tell me." Nobody would make her life harder than it had to be, not if he could help it. "Don't even tell her that I know."

"Understood," nodded Olivia. "So, about the case…"

"I need you to do something for me," Rafael said out of the blue, startling Olivia.

"Uh, yeah, of course…" Olivia nodded slowly, "What-what do you need?"

Before answering, Rafael's gaze flickered to the door. Montserrat would be away for a while, hopefully. "I need you to close this case."

"Excuse me?" Olivia tilted her head, presuming she heard wrong.

"You heard me," Rafael said, meeting her gaze. "I want the case closed. Cold case, if it must be."

"I don't — I don't understand…" Olivia rubbed her temple, "You want us to…"

"Close the case, yes," Rafael nodded. 'That's exactly what I want you to do. It's my case, and that's what I'm asking for."

"Why?" Olivia never thought she would have to have this kind of conversation with him. If there's anyone who always said what he wanted, it was Rafael. This made no sense. "Are you still processing what happened? Do you need —"

"I already processed it and this is what I need to happen," Rafael said, sounding very sure of himself. "I know what happens next and I'm not doing that."

"Because of a trial? Rafael, you know that's the natural order of thi—"

"I know," Rafael cut Olivia, his sense of impatience growing. "Believe me, Liv, I know what happens next. I know that you will eventually catch this guy and it will go to trial. I know that their defense attorney will start playing tricks and turn things around for their benefit."

"So you're afraid?" Olivia guessed. "That's also normal…"

"I'm not afraid," Rafael clarified, "I would gladly go along with every part of the process but this isn't about me. It was never about me."

Olivia was utterly lost. She rubbed her forehead relentlessly, leaving faint red marks on her skin. "You're going to have to explain this a little better because I'm not understanding. You don't want us to proceed with the case, you don't want a trial, but you're not scared?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Rafael confirmed, "And you, as my friend and more importantly the Sergeant here, need to help me."

"Why? Why do you want me to do that!?"

"Because that man worked for someone I get the feeling has been watching us for a while now."

Olivia presumed that the struggle she saw in Rafael was for himself. His hands balled into fists on either side of him. His lips pursed together enough to scrunch his nose automatically. But once again, Olivia was wrong because as Rafael had said earlier, this wasn't about him.

"He's been watching Montserrat," he spat darkly. The idea sent him into a frenzy and the only thing stopping its full fledged form was the aching throb he felt on the side of his stomach.

Olivia looked at Rafael both curiously and alarmed. "Why…why would you think that?"

"Because that man told me," Rafael replied, giving the impression that he remembered exactly what happened last night.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"You and I are the only ones who know what happened to Montserrat before she transferred here, so this should be easy to understand," Rafael said, only taking a moment because he abhorred what he had to say next. "That man who hurt her — he's watching her. I don't know how, I don't know when, but he's still got eyes on her."

Olivia was keenly aware of the rising noise from the machine beside the bed. One of them was connected to Rafael's finger — a blood pressure measure. "I think you need to—"

"It makes sense now, what Little Tino told Montserrat when we visited him in jail. He told Montserrat that there was a rule in place…"

The beeps got slightly louder.

"Raf—"

"Nobody lays a finger on the redhead," Rafael repeated the words he now hated himself for. He completely missed them at that moment. A deep scowl marked his face. "He has rules, Olivia, about her, about Montserrat — in his eyes, she belongs to him. I can't — he's just—"

"Rafael!" Olivia snapped to get his attention. She moved to his bedside, urgently motioning him to calm down.

"Liv, we can't let him keep watching her," he told her, finally sounding what he truly was: frightened. He was scared, but not for him. "We can't let this keep going. He's—"

Olivia nodded and once again motioned him to calm down. "You need to take it easy. You have stitches. They can burst," she reminded him. She grabbed Montserrat's chair to sit down. "Okay, you're going to have to walk me through this so that we're on the same page about what happened. Only then we can decide how to proceed from here."

"Fine, whatever, but you can't tell Montserrat anything about this."

"I can't promise that but we can work together to come up with the best solution," Olivia said.

It wasn't good enough for Rafael. He needed to hear it out loud…but he knew he was asking the impossible from Olivia. He'd been on that side plenty of times. It was hypocritical of him to be asking the same thing he denied so many times before.

Yes, he was being hypocritical.

Yes, he was being unreasonable.

But he just didn't care.

He didn't care about anything, not even the frikin stitches throbbing on his side right now. The only thing he cared about was currently outside, getting something he asked her for. She was all he cared about. So damn everything else.

[quodekash]

im already about to cry and the episode hasn't even started yet, so that's a nice sign that'll probably foreshadow how tonight is gonna go

PLS I LOVE HER SO MUCH

SHE ACTUALLY LISTENS AND TALKS TO KANGHAN

SHE IS MY GODDESS

MY QUEEN

MY MILF

9GO3U4ERHDSGN9P8IO4EURBDGN980OEUVDS

I KNEW SHE WAS CAPTAINING THE SHIP BUT HOLY FRICK NUGGETS

GUEOJRKBGNUOERJDFBGEUOR

IM SOBBING SO HARD RN

lmao nice joke

based on this scene being right at the start here, this episode is definitely gonna be the one where he properly realises his feelings for sailom (if he hasn't realised them already, which I dont think he has. he hasn't accepted it, at least)

AND BASED ON THAT LOGIC, generally the way these writers and directors etc base these ones, they fully lean into the fell first / fell harder dynamic, and almost immediately after the second person realises, they kiss

SO im very much hoping for a kiss at the end of this episode (but it also might not be til next episode)

WE'RE WHAT, ONE MINUTE INTO THE EPISODE?? AND WE'RE ALREADY GETTING TO THE INTIMATE STARES????

OH BOY IM SCARED FOR THE REST OF THE EPISODE

I THINK MY GAY LITTLE HEART MIGHT ACTUALLY EXPLODE

oh yup, oh yup, we've got the heartbeat sound in the background. kang's feelings are coming to lightttt (PLEASE LET THEM KISS TODAY)

AAA

IM SO EXCITED FOR WHATS GONNA HAPPEN BC OF THIS

my theory that they're gonna run away during school hours is still going strong

NOOOOO THE SCENE WAS SO NICE AND HAPPY AND FLUFFY WHY ARE YOU HERE TO RUIN IT YOU BASTARD???

yup okay so that theory is definitely right

(the theory that saifah's gonna like steal from kang's house, and his dad is gonna get shot in the process. not my own theory, it's from @ respectthepetty and it's such a good theory, I love it so much)

OML THIS IS SO FUNNY

I CANT WAIT FOR MORE BATHROOM SHENANIGANS, THIS IS GONNA BE WONDERFUL

awh is he lonely?

he needs a hug

from kang

all through the night

it'll be insane if they do tho, its literally night one, there's no way

I TAKE IT BACK, APPARENTLY IM WRONG????

OKAY NVM APPARENTLY I WASNT WRONG

im half convinced kang is gonna walk in or smth tho

YALL IM SCREAMING, HE FULL-ASS JUST HEEHEED

THEY ARE FRIENDS

AAAA THE LYRICS

I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH

THEYRE SO PLAYFUL WITH EACH OTHER

WHAT THE HELL

what I wouldn't give to be that driver rn

THE ARM OVER THE SHOULDER???????

THEYRE LITERALLY SO IN LOVE?????????

OMG

PIMFAH

MY WIFE

I rly wish that screenshot was better but the wifi is being stupid for no reason (which isn't surprising since this is Australia and we have the shittest wifi there is)

anyway IM SO SURE JUNE IS GONNA SHOW UP TODAY

GIVE👏US👏LESBIANS👏

DID I NOT SAY IT?

I WAS RIGHT YALL

AAAAAAAAAAA

LITERALLY IMMEDIATE

AS SOON AS THE OTHER MAJOR FEMALE CHARACTER WAS INTRODUCED, B O O M, LESBIANS

I VERY MUCH APPRECIATE THIS

although I wasn't expecting it to be teacher/student

she is just a trainee teacher, but its still a bit ick

idk tho

I guess we'll see what they do with it

gay panic in real time

ooh yes ive been waiting for the familial need for an heir thing to crop up, yesyesyes

making me think of drarry now

OKAY SO MAYBE I WAS WRONG

MAYBE HE DOES LIKE HER

but the things I said are still true

the evidence we've gotten before just now havent really felt solid enough to argue that kang likes pimfah

but now... I guess I have to agree

pimfah knows/suspects/ships it and no one can convince me otherwise

IM WHEEZE-LAUGHING THIS IS HILARIOUS

THE MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND?????

I CANT RN

SO THIS IS DEFINITELY A DREAM SEQUENCE, RIGHT?

I wasn't expecting imaginary scenes from this series but I deeply appreciate it

I CANT STOP LAUGHING

THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING, SAILOM

YOU SHOULD BE EMBARRASSED

BUT ITS ALSO SUCH A MOOD

also I like kang's shoes

Y E S

I WAS HOPING FOR OPEN HOUSE VIEWJUNE

again, I wasn't expecting it to be teacher/student, but anyway

OH YOU LESBIANN

G3I4ORENHGKLS

I would do the same tho

June is so pretty

and so is view

and so is chimon

and so is Perth

(and so is satang)

(no I will not shut up about my satang and perth siblings agenda, its too good to keep to myself)

NO IM OUT OF IMAGES

on the bright side, it took a lot longer to run out today than it did last week

[saveugoodmadam]

Dear Hitch,

I've decided to write a letter or two while you're off tumblr. It's funny, and also I miss you, and maybe these will be nice to read when you get back. Expect some rambling, lol. As of writing this, it's been about a week and a half? since you last were on. Some stuff has happened since then.

I had my 17th birthday, for one. 17 doesn't feel too different from sixteen yet, but once school starts for me I think it will. At least one TGS update has been posted, I won't spoil any of them for you, though. I saw a fun animatic on Instagram Reels of Roman from Sanders Sides so now I'm watching through those videos. I've convinced another person to read TGS (tumblr user getyourpaybackwithsomepayback) and he's OBSESSED, lol.

I've done some writing, namely my first two TGS fics, which are on AO3 now. They shouldn't be too hard to find, since my ao3 account is linked in my bio, so if you want to read them, there they are! If you do read them, lmk what you think. I've also done some work on a vat7k fic that is slowly but somewhat surely progressing. I haven't written for my original stories much lately, not really sure why.

I started crocheting a cat blanket, it'll be a while before i finish but I'll send pics when I do, rest assured. I'm planning an Enjolras cosplay for Halloween, also, and I'll let you know how it goes. I hope you get a new phone soon, and I hope you're doing okay. I hope this isn't a super weird thing to do.

I've been re reading TGS out of order, mainly for fic research. It's hard to write fics in the canon timeline, while still adhering to canon, because so much happens, there's hardly room for background scenes. I think I'm being too meticulous about it, perhaps, as I also went on a google sidetrack for ten minutes trying to figure out what kinds of cookies were invented in the 1800s. Though, the research has always been one of my favorite things about writing, since learning random stuff I never would otherwise is really fun for me!

I miss hearing about your ocs, specifically Arthur Buchanan, and your blorbo posting, about Sinnet, and David Jakobs. And it's only been a week and a half, lmao.

Sincerely, Rook :3

Rook I'm going to be honest I did genuinely start crying reading this, thank you so much and a belated happy birthday to you!!! I saw your fics on ao3 and read them and they're so good (let's ignore the fact that i cried reading them because i missed you)

I've read all the updates and omg is jekyll fucked!!!! good news though I have volume 2 pre-ordered and I can't wait for my gifts!!!!

While I've been (not of my own choice mind you) unavailable, I've been more and more obsessed with david 😭😭😭 this has included obsessively listening to the cast recordings of der Glöckner von Notre Dame he's in lmaooo

I also went to Wales for a holiday and had lots of fun!!! I have piccies but I'll put them in a separate post or DM you if they have my face in!

I don't have a new phone per se, I'm using my mum's spare but it's now 'mine' so that's good and I have pretty much everything except my WhatsApp chats and music so all good and thanks be to the cloud lmao!

yours sincerely (and tearily),

hitch

[kisses-for-you]

Ill - Kory Anders

Kory Anders X Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been diagnosed with a serious illness that Kory is about to find out about.

Word Count: 1,099

⚠️ Warnings: Cancer.

You snuggle comfortably into Kory's warm embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Kory wraps her arms protectively around you, creating a cosy cocoon of affection. As you lay entwined, you listen to the sound of Kory's soothing heartbeat that syncs in perfect harmony with your own. In that peaceful moment, time seems to slow, and the world outside your embrace fades away.

As you lay there, you notice Kory starting to slowly doze off. You loved moments like this. Just you and your girlfriend with not a care in the world. But that's where you're wrong. There's one thing you haven't been able to stop thinking about. Your cancer.

You got diagnosed with it around a month ago, pancreatic cancer. Unfortunately for you, it's already spread and it's in its advanced stages, which means it can't be treated. Or rather it can but it's highly unlikely that it'll work. So why bother? You should've noticed the signs, maybe then you wouldn't be in this situation, worrying about how long you have left with your girlfriend, wondering what your last moments with her will be. But then again - the doctors did say your specific type of cancer is hard to detect in its early stages. So is it really your fault that you didn't notice?

Maybe you didn't notice but Kory did. Of course, she still doesn't know about the cancer. You just don't have the guts to tell her. However, she noticed the constant tiredness and the sudden weight loss. You did try to convince her it was just exhaustion from how hard you were working but she knew better. She knew you were lying and she knows you still are, no matter how much you try to convince her otherwise.

Your thoughts come to an end when you hear Kory's light snores coming from behind you, telling you she's asleep. As carefully as you can, you slip out of her grasp and leave your room. You head to the kitchen for a glass of water, your mind starting to race with thoughts of your illness once again. The sound of footsteps approaching snaps you out of your train of thought.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" Kory asks.

You turn around to find Kory standing in the doorway to the kitchen, concern etched across her face. You force a smile, trying to hide the weight of your secret.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just couldn't sleep, you know?" you reply, attempting to sound casual. Kory narrows her eyes slightly, sensing that you're lying to her yet again.

"Y/N, don't lie to me," she says softly, stepping closer. "You've changed, you know? You're always tired and you've lost so much weight in such a short amount of time - Y/N, just talk to me, please."

Your forced smile wavers as Kory's genuine concern pierces through your attempts to conceal the truth. You take a deep breath, trying to choose your best words very carefully.

"Kory, it's just... I've been feeling a bit off lately," you admit, still covering up the full truth. "But it's just stress from how much I've been working. I just need a small break and I'll be fine, really."

Kory studies your face, her eyes searching for reassurance. Despite your attempt to downplay it, she knows there's still more than you're telling her. "Y/N, I know you better than anyone. This isn't just stress. Please, talk to me. I want to help."

The lump in your throat grows heavier, but you manage to respond, "Look, Kory, I'm not going to burden you with my problems so let's just enjoy the moments we have together, okay?"

Kory's slowly getting tired of your bullshit and it shows when she accidentally snaps with a slightly raised voice, "Well I can't really enjoy the moments we have together if all I can think about is how my girlfriend keeps lying to my face and I can't stop worrying about what's wrong with her."

Your heart pounds as Kory's words hang in the air, her frustration palpable. You take another deep breath, realizing that you can't keep evading the truth any longer.

"Kory, I..." Your voice falters, and you lock eyes with her, vulnerability laid bare. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to worry, but it's more than just stress. I've got cancer, and it's... I'm not getting treated. It's too advanced and it's already spread. The doctors said I've got about a year left at best."

Kory's eyes widen, her initial frustration replaced by shock and concern. She takes a step closer, the gravity of your words sinking in. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me? How long have you known?" Her voice trembles with a mix of emotions.

You hesitate before responding quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Like a month.."

"A month? And you didn't even think to tell me?!" Kory exclaims before falling silent, her gaze shifting between disbelief and sorrow.

"I didn't want whatever time I had left with you to be spent grieving someone who's still alive!" you say, your voice breaking as tears well up in your eyes.

She reaches out to gently hold your hands. "Y/N, I get that you were just trying to spare me the pain, but keeping such a big secret from me hurt me more. We're in this together, no matter what. I want to be here for you," Kory says, her voice filled with sincerity and love.

You try to speak but your words are cut short by the sound of your sobs. Tears stream down your cheeks as Kory pulls you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you, allowing you to feel safe and protected as if nothing else matters. She holds you close, and you can feel her heart beating against yours.

You lean your head on her shoulder, your tears staining her shirt. Yet she doesn't seem to mind. She's just glad she can be there for you in some way. In that moment of vulnerability, Kory holds you tighter, the room filling with your quiet sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Kory whispers, her voice calm and soothing as she continues to embrace you. "I wish this hadn't happened to you. I wish you didn't have to go through this."

Your tears eventually come to an end and you look up at Kory, your eyes still red and puffy. "I love you so much, Kory," you say. She responds, a sad smile on her face, "I love you too, Y/N,"

[thevanillerose]

NOT THE ANSWER | MARKUS x READER | DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

“Markus, you know this. If you take that approach you'll alienate the public! Nobody will want to support you!”

North had her convincing ways, but you were trying your damn hardest to make Markus understand that there wasn't just one option here. He had stormed away from you as soon as you had tried to talk to him, but when he was soon enough cornered in a room at the back of Jericho he just flopped down in the nearest seat and put his head in his hands.

You pulled one over to join him, and gently touched his back.

“I want you to understand that things will be alright. You just have to trust me. Violence begets violence, it won't put us anywhere but a landfill.”

His hands slipped slowly down his tan face and revealed his heterochromatic eyes. They flitted over to you before he let out a heavy sigh and sat up properly in his seat.

“We're not making enough progress [Y/N]. North might be right. If we use force they'll have no choice but to listen to us.”

“And what would you rather be seen as when they do listen, Markus?” you questioned sternly, “A placid beacon of hope for a new kind of people? Or a raging, hateful opposer to the human race? Because getting aggressive is only going to send you down one of those routes.”

“...” Markus had turned silent again. He shifted out of his seat but of course you followed, pinching the tip of his sleeve before he could walk away from you again.

“Don't ignore me when you know I'm right, Markus.”

“Then what am I supposed to do!?”

He suddenly turned around and looked at you, artificial brow furrowing downwards with distress.

“Am I meant to just sit around and wait patiently for them all to change their minds, while they carry on degrading and slaughtering our people?”

“No. If you have to sit, it'll be on the front lines of a protest. Nowhere else.” you assured him firmly, confident in this. Enough so that your fist clenched before your chest,  “You need to be out there, showing them. Showing them that we are not that different. That we are capable of emotions, emotions that aren't anger or wrath!”

He paused, narrowing his eyes. “How am I supposed to show them anything else? When I talk to them, they don't listen. They blank out my words and fire on my allies, how am I supposed to show them any emotion but rage then?”

It was your turn to take a moment. It wasn't like you couldn't understand what Markus was going through right now. He was torn up, worried about what was the right choice to make. But you felt like you could help. Help him make the right decision, here and now.

Spotting a long jagged stain of rust on the wall, you pointed to it suddenly and held his arm with your other hand.

“Look Markus. You're the creative sort with all those paintings you do, so just imagine that's a crowd of people. The swollen bits of metal are heads looking back at you. Waiting. Just imagine their eyes on you Markus. Close your own if you have to.”

After staring at the uneven stain for a moment, he really did have to close his eyes. He couldn't quite see it how you described it, which made him wonder if you had more of a knack for creating than he did. Yet the moment he shut off his vision, he could understand clearly.

Eyes watching. A crowd of protestors, like the ones who had shoved him down and kicked him that day he went to Bellini Paints. Back then he hadn't known what to do except take it. Take it in silence.

Now he stood a chance of fighting back, but you wouldn't let him.

Why? How did you intend to fix this problem otherwise?

“...I can see them, if I think hard enough. Now what?”

You nodded, and took both his hands in your own now, encouraging him to face you fully while stretching up and pressing your own chest to his.

“Keep your eyes closed. I'm going to show you what to do in front of them...”

Show me?

Before he could even question what you meant, he felt a tender something against his lips. Soft and plush enough to feel real.

Your gentle kiss.

Markus found his own mouth parting just a little for yours, and with a tilt of the head you both connected fully in that way. Yes, a kiss between two androids had a stiffness to it, naturally. Some things were hard to perfect.

But...to onlookers...it stood a chance of changing minds and hearts. Laying the final brick in that bridge.

The two of you parted softly.

“That's all you have to do Markus.” you reached up to grace his cheek gently with your fingertips, and his own hand clasped over yours. “We just have to show them, together. Show them.”

We're not that different after all.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

[jasper-and-poetry]

TW: depression, self harm, suicide

Falling- By jasper

The rain.

The rain falls around me.

Falling...

Falling...

Falling...

Smacking against the roof beneath me.

It ruins... Everything.

Stains... Everything.

My hair.

My shirt.

My skin.

My thoughts.

My soul.

I don't know when the rain first started.

It's been here as long as I can remember.

Don't know when it'll end for good...

If it ever will.

"Doesn't matter," I try to convince myself.

I fail.

Some days it hardly rains at all.

Some it rains so hard

I can't do anything I wanted to.

But even when it doesn't rain

I still feel it's presence.

Lurking... Waiting...

It pools into puddles surrounding me,

remnants of the last rainfall.

If I'm careful, I can avoid them

Avoid that pain just a little while longer.

I'm not always so careful.

People offer me their thoughts and prayers,

As if thoughts and prayers can replace

my need of a jacket or an umbrella

To keep away the rain.

Being with loved ones,

spending that time together

sometimes gives me fleeting moments of joy.

They became my umbrella for me

against their will.

A burden.

One that they don't deserve to bear.

I see how it wears on them with time.

How my need for their aid

becomes an annoyance for them.

That umbrella is old; the fabric weak.

When the rain comes, as it always does

It tears through the fabric, soaking me.

Only me.

Alone.

Always alone.

Forever alone.

"It's what I deserve", I try to convince myself.

I succeed.

"go

Go!

GO!"

I scream, burning bridges as I do.

I'm convinced that the umbrella

does absolutely nothing,

and why wouldn't I?

Here I am, still soaking wet.

"I'm fine", I'd say, to everyone.

How they believe me, I'll never know.

Maybe they'd rather ignore it

than go out of their way to help.

Maybe I'm just too good at lying.

And so my true thoughts stay locked inside.

Otherwise I'm locked inside

for a 72 hour stay in a hospital

before the white cell

with soft walls

and a snug jacket.

Trapped in my own little prison.

Either a prison of my mind

or for it.

How ironic that the thing I do

to keep me out

is exactly what would put me in.

Every day is no new day anymore.

They blend into each other now.

Weeks feel like days, months into weeks.

Time slips by me so fast and yet

I'm

still

here.

Trapped here.

In this moment of time when it rained

and I could do nothing.

Trapped in this rot, in this pigsty

I call my life.

All the rain, all the pain

snowballing down a mountainside

that I call my mind until it consumes...

Everything.

Every moment of joy.

Every moment of anger.

Every moment of sadness.

Every moment of nothingness.

Every moment soaked in the rainfall

until I forget what it was like to be dry.

In dire moments I let out that pain,

taking it out onto myself,

becoming a canvas of scars

from a battle I'll never win.

They litter my skin like a minefield,

covering my arms, my thighs, my wrists.

The wounds heal, they became scars,

but they will never disappear;

A constant reminder of what I've done.

But the rain subsides,

if only for a moment.

That is until the tiniest thing,

breaks this camel's back.

The rain, the pain comes snowballing

out of control. I can't do it on my own.

That pain just keeps

growing

Growing!

GROWING!

LEAVING ME SPIRALING,

"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!"

Blood pumping in my ears as I run.

Run from the pain, the past, the life I had.

The blood pumping in my ears

grows even louder, drowning out the world

as I drown from the heavy rainfall

until I find myself on the rooftop.

The rainfall is too heavy for me,

heavier than it's ever been,

and when I need it most

that umbrella is gone.

I curse myself for it now,

but it's too late.

There I go alongside the rain,

the rain falling alongside me.

Falling...

Falling...

Falling...

Smacking against the ground beneath me.

And for the first time

in a very, very long time

the rain is gone.

This time, for good.

And unfortunately, so am I.

[dearxtallxboy]

🎶⛔️🌞💖🦅👀🤩🤲

Thank you so much for the ask! I appreciate it so much ❤️

🎶 - Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I have to say that I usually don't listen to music while I'm writing. I get kind of distracted and I'll sometimes type out the lyrics of what I'm listening to without even thinking 😅 But a song I have been listening to on loop is the French version of Do you Hear the People Sing? From Les Misérables, which is A la volonté du peuple. Please listen to it! Even if you don't speak French, it's amazing! I also recommend looking up the English translation because it hits harder than the actual English version.

⛔️ - Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

I have a couple that I've written little drabbles for that never went anywhere, mostly because I struggled with writing it or I didn't like the idea once I had it written down. I had a Detroit: Become Human AU with android!Ben and human!George and they fall in love and it's cute. I might bring it back, but for now it'll stay tucked away in a little corner.

🌞 - Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

If I'm able to, mid afternoon is such a great time to write. There's just a chill vibe and everything is nice and quiet. But I mostly write at night because of my work and school schedule, which is also fine. I'm usually so tired by the time I start writing in the evening I'm lucky if I get a paragraph or two out before I fall asleep.

💖 - What made you start writing?

Well, I've been writing fics since I was about 12, but stopped when I was about 14, mostly because I hated what I had written and I was convinced I was a terrible writer. Fast forward a few years and my friend @ouiouixmonami gave me several gentle nudges into writing a fic and finally putting it up on ao3.

🦅 - Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

I very rarely outline my fics, mostly because I write a lot of one-shots. The most I've ever written are three chapters and that's only because I can't fit all the things I want to write into one chapter without it feeling clunky. I do have an outline for a much longer Phantom of the Opera fic starring omega!Raoul and alpha!Erik. It's even got a table of everyone's ages, height, and whether or not they are an alpha, beta, or omega. Otherwise I'll just sit down and write things out until I'm happy with it.

👀 - Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I'm currently working on a follow up to my last fic, Lean On Me. The basic idea is that Raoul is going to be introducing Erik to Philippe for the first time, though Raoul has a teeny tiny secret that he doesn't want to reveal to his big brother quite yet, but the beans will be spilled before the day is over.

🤩 - Who is your favorite character to write?

That's so hard to decide because I love writing almost everyone! Currently my favorite to write is Raoul. He can be so goofy and whiny to write, but he so deeply loves Erik and only wants his lover to understand how deep that love goes. One I'm looking forward to writing in the future is a certain cynic from Les Mis because I think we're gonna vibe together pretty well.

🤲 - Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Here's an itty bitty paragraph from my latest wip. Enjoy!

He hated waking up these last few weeks. Every morning was the same. He would wake up sick to his stomach and would usually expel whatever contents were in it. He would feel a little better afterwards, but the acidic taste of vomit would linger in his mouth and he often felt too weak to get out of bed right away. He honestly didn’t know what he would do without Erik. His alpha would rub his back while Raoul would empty his stomach into the chamber pot, whispering soothing nonsense to help distract him. Then he would help Raoul get comfortable in bed again and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving to prepare a cup of ginger tea and some dry toast to help settle his stomach.