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hello-nichya-here · 6 months

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If you had to characterized Michael Jackson as one of the following adjectives that happened to be important qualities in the entertainment industry, which would you pick? Explain your answer.

Vocalist

Dancer

Songwriter

Performer

Picking "vocalist" would imply that his main focus as an artist would be his singing abilities.

Picking "dancer" would imply that his main focus as an artist would be his dancing abilities.

Picking "songwriter" would imply that his main focus as an artist would be his lyrics and not how he delivers them.

Picking "performer" would imply that his Mai focus as an artist during live shows isn't his singing it dancing, but the production elements (costumes, dancers, lighting, scene set up, ect)

Please give examples to justify your answer.

Picking one of the above adjectives wouldn't imply that his abilities in the rest of them are lacking, I'm simply trying to find which feild is his best.

This message has been typed by someone who knows shit about MJ and wants to learn but not through the mainstream media, as you've already said that they treated him like shit.

ANON, YOU FOOL, YOU OPENED THE FLOOD GATES! Get a snack and some water, then sit down, this is gonna take a ridiculously long time because I know WAY too much about Michael and you just gave me the chance to share all of that knowledge at once.

First off, I unfortunately have to get the depressing part out of the way and tell you that it wasn't just the media that treated him like shit. Nearly everyone in his life failed this man on some degree.

His father used to watch him and his brother's practice for their performances as The Jackson 5/The Jacksons - with a belt in hand to beat them if they got even a single note wrong. He'd also just throw them against all too He also made fun of Michael's appearence as he was growing up, mocking him for his acne, big nose and for being too dark to truly be his son.

Joseph Jackson also cheated on his wife constantly - especially while traveling with his sons during tours, since he was the manager. So add "Had to listen to him cheat on my mom" to the lists of reasons why Michael didn't like his dad all that much. He also didn't care where his sons performed as long as it got them money, leading to Michael, while still very much a young CHILD, singing in strip clubs, and, in his own words, having to watch adults fighting and vomiting on each other.

His brothers weren't saints either. They all had to share a room in the hotels during tours, and Michael not only had to hear his older brothers having sex with fans (again, while he was still a child), but he also had to hear how these girls were being used and thrown away. Michael even tried to talk to one of said girls after it because she was crying so much he thought she might have been there against her will.

And when Michael went solo and became far richer than anyone in the family (who by now were FAR from poor), he was constantly harassed for money by nearly everyone, leading to him full on hiding from them many times, and sometimes only "talking" to them by sending his lawyer in his place. In his own words "I’ve supported my brothers, supported them all. I’ve put their kids through school. But they still come after me, still wanting more. It never ends." After his death, most of his relatives were too busy fighting over his money to properly mourn him, or comfort his children.

As I explained in a previous post, the people that were making money off of him and his performances, were more than willing to just let Michael continue dancing after getting seriously injured and nearly dying:

His final tour, literally named "This Is It" because he wanted to officially retire already, was originally meant to be just 5 shows. Instead Michael was tricked into commiting to 50 shows, and pressured to "keep his word." Thanks to the years of neglect to his health, plus the reharsals for this tour, as well the help of a doctor that was more than happy to put him in a drug induced coma and call it "helping him sleep", Michael was dead before the first show of this tour even took place.

After his death, two posthumos albums were released, "Michael" and "Xscape." The first one had a lot of controversy surrounding it because 3 of the songs were NOT sung by Michael, and Sony, his record label, full on say on court that they had the right to attribute these tracks to Jackson, regardless of authenticity - aka "We should have the right to attach his name to stuff he didn't make, just so we can sell it a higher price." It did not go well.

Finally, we have the pedophilia allegations (that people still take as absolute truth despite Michael being proven innocent in court), which can summed up in this 2 minute video:

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Said accusations, despite being obviously false, nearly destroyed his reputation completely, AND made him a victim of police brutality during the court case.

Now we got all that crap all of the way, let's talk about what actually matters:

Why Michael Jackson will always be THE greatest artist of all time!

There's a reason why he was called the King Of Pop, why many artists today (from like The Weekend and Bruno Mars, to nearly every K-Pop group ever) take a ton of notes from how he used to do things, why people still ADORE Thriller 40 years later, why he is still so iconic even though "Year of Michael Jackson" was 1988 - 35 years ago. Michael Jackson was the definition of a "perfectionist." A picture of him should be right next to that word in every dictionary.

If while reading about his depressing life, you found yourself thinking "Why did he wait so long to finally 'quit his job', and even then was still willing to end it on a high note?" the answer is pretty simple: Michael Jackson was an ambitious man, with a real passion for his craft, and he knew damn well he was incredibly talented. ALL of the words you chose as possibilities to define him - performer, dance, singer, writer - apply to him, because he made sure he was the best at everything, that no other artist, no matter how good they were, could compare to him.

Everything he did was like clockwork, a ton of large and small parts moving at once.

Michael knew that he needed to capture people's attention, so he used everything he had at his disposal. Multiple dancers, costumes, lighting, make-up, sound effects, back up vocalists going insane on the microphone, and short films to promote songs/albums.

Ever thought some music video by an artist you like was super creative and awesome? Thank Michael Jackson, because his clips were EVENTS, and he really opened the door for people to get creative and actively add plot to their videos/short films instead of just dancing and singing.

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This man was commited into making everything he did look fantastic - and I do mean EVERYTHING. In a concert in Moscow, the stage was wet due to the heavy rain before it, so Michael added sliding around to the choreography to show the crew were the water puddles were. Whenever something liket that happened and his shoes were wet, instead of stopping the concert for even a minute to dry them or put a different pair on, he'd just signal for people in the crew to leave towels on the stage, so he'd stand on them while dancing, drying the shoes without having to stop.

But he also used fake "unplanned" events to create humor, and give the crew more time to prepare things for the next song, or so he could change clothes - the most famous one being inviting Slash, who would pretend get "carried away" during his guitar solos and "not stop when he was supposed to."

Then there are things like him using the iconic white glove in only one hand to hide the first signs of his vitiligo, or the hats (as well as wigs and hair-extensions) to cover up the scars and hair loss that he suffered after the Pepsi accident, in which his hair caught fire while filming a commercial.

There was also the time in which he couldn't dance due to an injury, so he did a less elaborate dance (by his standards anyway) while in a chair, but while reacting the entire vibe of the original short film for that song, so it would still get the public excited. That dude knew how to use his little "tricks" to get around any change of plans.

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There was also his habit of using black shoes and black pants, but white socks, so that when he was dancing, people's eyes would naturally focus on the thing that is standing out, and thus be able to notice every little step he was doing (he once mentioned in an interview how he'd get frustrated watching James Brown on TV because the camera didn't focus enough on his feet for him to learn how to copy the moves).

Those last two exemples I just gave you, also highlight a very important thing: dancing absolutely is part of Michael's theatrics (see the awesome choreography of "Dangerous", which is one of my favorites, and can often even overshadow the more "flashy" stuff, because just having him alone on stage was enough to create something unforgettable - like the first time he did the Moonwalk

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But we can also not separate the dance from his passion for music. There's a reason Michael's entire body moves whenever there's a change even in a single note, be it through a kick, a snap of his fingers, a tap of his foot, or just him turning his head to the side. He had repeatedly said that when working on his dancing, he focused more on the feeling it gave him.

Michael was heavily involved in the creation of his music, from the melody to the lyrics - back in the Jackson 5 days, he and his brother's actively fought to be allowed to write their own songs, instead of just doing covers and having other people write for them. Even though he had been putting out solo records his whole life, he said his albums only started to truly feel like they were his when he started stepping up as a song writter, starting in "Off The Wall", and gaining more and more confidence in his craft with each new record.

And back to the "performer" side for a minute: there's a reason why Michael always gave it all when making music videos. He wanted them to properly convey the meaning of the lyrics, even to people who did not speak any english. That's how important the messages he wanted to share with people were to him.

youtube

There's also the song "They Don't Care About Us", which Michael wrote after the incident I mentioned before, in which some bastard cops decided to make him their punching bag. The whole song is about authorities abusing their power over people, while neglecting to do their jobs. There are two videos for this one, one in a real prison, which was heavily censored by american media, and one in poor regions of Brazil, where our government tried to prevent him from filming his video - in both cases, it was obviously a case of the very people Michael was calling out not wanting him to expose just how right he was. (Little fun fact for you: Michael's help, both through expousure and money, for the people here in Brazil was so significant that there's a statue in his homage).

The music video for "Beat It" also has members of real, rival gangs as Michael's dancers, promoting his message for people not let that kind of grudge and "I'm the best" atitute get them in the dangerous situations because they didn't want to "admit defeat" and walk away - once again, he's everything at once, an amazing performer making a cool video, and a skilled writer getting a point across.

His vocals also tie into how much the lyrics mattered. He was literally crying while recording "She's Out Of My Life", and even though he didn't write "Man In The Mirror" that song was always very dear to him (and by consequence, to fans) because it alligned with his beliefs for a better world.

The emotions behind any lyrics, regardless of if it had been written by him or not (and I remind you, it very often was, and he literally fought for that right), were the very core of what Michael Jackson, both the artist and person, was all about. The feeling, the message.

But he also was so serious and methodical about every other part of the songs he made. So much so that, for Billie Jean, he recorded 91 different takes, but the one that was considered the best and ended up on the album was take TWO! And he once managed to prove he had not ripped off a different song writer by beatboxing in court. I am not kidding.

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THAT is how skilled that man was. MJ could sing pretty much anything he wanted to sing, and had an unbelievable level of control over his voice, that allowed him to reach super high notes, despite having a naturally much lower, deeper voice. Just compare his singing in these two tracks:

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And if you want to hear solely his voice, without the rest of the song to "distract" you, well...

youtube

And to circle back to his performances again, even in situations in which he had to lipsinc - like award shows since the logistics for live performances in those places can be complicated, or during a REALLY elaborate choreography - he still had the habit of recording NEW vocals for the songs, so fans would still get to hear him toy with new ideas for his old tracks, instead of just watching him dance while the album's tracks were playing

So there you have it, anon. This is Michael Jackson - performer, dancer, singer, songwriter - the full package. (If you want to see a concert of his in which he shows off all of that, I recommend you watch the full Live at Wembly concert, which anyone can watch for free on his official youtube channel)

#asks #michael jackson #king of pop

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lavunyan · 2 years

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Cheek Kiss

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!reader (Haru) Word Count: 1,124 words Warning: Nothing other than super-duper fluff Summary: You got a fever, what would he do?

A/N: Soooo SKZoo Pop Up Store is almost here. Who else gonna buy Wolfchan? Because I do~ I will bring him when I watch SKZ concert later so he could see his father on the stage hahahahaha Anyway, enjoy this drabble, my beautiful STAY~

Chan frowned upon knowing that Haru hadn't replied to any messages he sent to her the entire day. She usually texted him about how busy she was and would be in touch after handling everything. That also applied to him. He would inform her if he had a fully packed schedule or just spending time at the studio.

But it's been more than 24 hours since the last time Haru replied to his text, and it makes him anxious.

"She is not there?"

"Nope, she is not here, Chris. The last time she came was a week ago. I think she was busy with her work."

Her mother's statement alerted him, and he quickly adjusted everything into his bag.

"Alright then, Mum. I'll go check up on her now."

"Thank you, Chris. Next time come to our house. Your Pa is surely missing his lovely son."

"Of course. I miss you too, Mum. I'll get going now. Say hello to Pap for me, will ya?"

"I will, now go and please rest. I heard you rarely took a rest. What is wrong with younglings nowadays?" Chan giggled at Haru's mom's nag.

Not until his worries took his mind away. Haru didn't inform her condition over the text that it would happen once in a blue moon. He has known her since he was a trainee. No, they have known each other since he was in Australia. Their parents have been best friends since he was young. Given the fact that they are both Korean.

They lost contact after he became a trainee and moved to Korea. Then she moved to Korea when she was in middle school. Of course, her parents naturally took care of him and 'adopted' him as Haru is the only child. Needless to say, they became closer, and she is constantly bugging him. Remind him to take a rest or send him memes in the middle of the night just because she couldn't sleep, and knowing him having trouble sleeping, she took that chance to bug him.

So this type of behavior makes his heart jump.

He no longer sneaks up to Haru's apartment because his lover has been very familiar to his fans since his trainee days. It's become an open secret to people that Haru is part of his family, so no one really questions Haru as someone more than a family.

Her voice appeared several times in Changbin's vlog when they were on vacation with the rapper's family. People could tell that there were two women voices when Changbin talked to his sister. Moreover, Haru often brings food to the dorm makes her less suspicious.

Clearly, Chan doesn't worry if his relationship is exposed with Haru someday. She took care of the kids, never caused trouble at school, had fantastic achievements, and on top of that, she is a lawyer. What could go wrong with that?

He is lucky to have her, to be honest. Why would someone as amazing as Haru wants to be with him?

If she knew his thoughts now, he would get smacked real good.

He opened her door; it was dark and cold, like no one had set foot in this apartment for a while. He raised his eyebrows, surprised if his lover was not home. He found out that all her shoes were tucked neatly on the shelf as he looked around. It means that she is home.

Did she already fast asleep? This early?

Tiptoeing his way to her bedroom, true to his words, he found her safe and sound. He let his breath go knowing her was resting and not having a significant accident.

He threw his bag by the bed and sat beside her, leaning his body so he could see her better in the dark. As he caressed the side of her face, that burning feeling caught him off guard. She had a fever.

Chan took everything he needed; a warm towel, a glass of water, meds. Everything. He strides into her room to get everything ready before waking his girl.

Once again, leaning towards her, he wiped her sweaty skin. He used to wipe her skin but seeing her not giving him any response -not even a beautiful smile- didn't sit well with him. He is ashamed of himself, not realizing that his lover has been sick the whole day.

Feeling something rub her body, she slowly opened her eyes and found Chan focused on his task.

"... Chris?"

"It will make you better, Love. Let me change your pajama; it's so sticky. Must be uncomfy."

Haru stayed silent, permitting him to get rid of her clothes, followed by a groan; her head was pounding so bad, and every part of her body was aching.

"Sshhh... Little more. Almost done, Baby."

Chan changed her pajama and continued wiping her body. It gave her some relief. But before he could take off her pants, she stopped him.

"I am on my period. Just let it be."

He shook his head and declined her request. Now he understands why she got a fever. He knew her body temperature would quickly spike up whenever she got her period. The usual cold-temp body would be a little warm, and she always complained about how uncomfortable her body was.

"Ah... your period?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. Chan moved her body so he could reach her back. He slowly changed her clothes and moved her to a more comfortable position.

"First day?"

"Yea, and it sucks."

He chuckled. He was no longer worried about his lover because she could answer his questions with sass. Chan put her pajamas aside and kissed her cheek while caressing her hair.

"You will get my fever if you kiss me like that, Babe."

"Aw... This fever is from your period, babe. It won't get to me so that I will kiss you as much as possible." He then proceeds to kiss her longer than before.

"Do as you like then," she rolled her eyes.

"Want a tub of ice cream?"

It piqued her interest, but then she frowned upon the idea.

"I have a fever, tho?"

He laughed hard and pinched her cheek, overwhelming her with that gesture of his. She only had a fever, not dying. So what is fever without being stubborn about eating some pistachio ice cream?

He came with a tub of ice cream in his hand and handed it to her while he took off his t-shirt. His favorite thing was planting his body skin to skin with hers. So while they had a movie night, he will put her close to him as much as possible.

Now then,

Netflix? Check.

Ice cream? Check.

Cuddle? Check.

Cheek kiss? Absolutely.

Masterlist

#Stray Kids #stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan #stray kids imagines #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fic #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #chan fluff #bang chan au #bangchan au #bangchan imagines #bangchan fanfic #stray kids fluff #bangchan x reader

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elderemorune · 3 months

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What a week.

TW: Suicide discussion ahead. Please be kind to yourself and don't read if you're not in the headspace for it.

A family friend passed away this week. I first learned about it a couple of days ago. Her name was Emily, and she was a lawyer. Damn fine one too. She and I weren't especially close, but I'd ask her legal questions on occasion, stuff like "Hey, how does founding an LLC work?" or "Hey, I just learned about this really cool business idea, can you point me to someone who can help me work out what I'd need to do for it?" It was professional, and I didn't know that much about her.

What I do know is that she suffered from chronic pain, and didn't have any tools to effectively manage it. The stuff that deadened the pain's addictive, and with doctors basically not prescribing opiates at all if they can help it, she was left in the lurch. Eventually it became too much to bear, and she just couldn't do it anymore.

She leaves behind a husband and children, whom are all kind and gentle folk. I recall meeting her partner at a baseball game with my dad once, he was a swell guy. Shook my hand firmly and made jokes about an ex-con marrying his lawyer. She just gave him a withering look, said "Don't be an ass, I don't even practice criminal law!" and we all laughed.

The pain overtook her, and it's hard to blame her.

I mean, can you imagine? Body aching all the time, no reprieve except when you're asleep? Doctors telling you you're engaging in drug seeking behavior simply because you'd like to have one good fucking day, just one?

My wife lives that life too. She's constantly in pain, her body fighting her at any given moment simply for the sin of having been born to parents who ardently refused to have her medical issues treated when she was a child, her dad and stepmom chiding her doctors when they said "She has a hormone imbalance brought on by precocious puberty".

"Oh she doesn't have anything wrong with her, she's just lazy and fat."

I'm digressing from what I wanted to talk about, sorry. That woman's been through a lot, and it's so hard not to get mad about it. Especially right now. I worry so much about her pain levels that I keep her supplied in marijuana and do everything about the house to the best of my abilities just to limit it as much as I can.

And while that's the worst thing that happened this week, I can't really say the rest was good. I mean, in comparison to suicide, sure I guess, but you know.

It's fucking weird when one finds out that your mom didn't actually want to be polyamorous again.

Oh yeah, my folks were poly in 2019, and that blew up massively in their faces for reasons that are not mine to share.

Anyway, I came to find out that my dad lied to my mom about how he met his girlfriend, Sarah. He said he met her on Reddit, but had lied about taking his dating profile down. He takes phone calls from Sarah every night at 5:00, when he's supposed to shut his office down and stop ignoring my mom for the day.

My mom has no desire to meet Sarah. Says "I can't, I'll hate her, and she hasn't even done anything wrong. I don't want to meet her."

As a polyamorous person in a monogamous relationship, there is a right way to do this, and a wrong one, and FUCK is the wrong one lying to your partner about it. I mean shit, I did that three fucking years ago! And while I would absolutely state that my behavior three years ago was of a significantly different (read harsh, mean, unkind, abusive), it started this way. With a lie.

Sure he came clean, but there's nothing that can be trusted about this relationship now.

So I finish talking to my mom about this because I have other shit to do and being angry at my dad for yet another reason isn't doing me much good. She closes out with this:

"Thank you for caring about me and having my back and being my amazing and wonderful son."

To wit I said "Well it's not like I can be anyone else, right? :P"

And completely unprompted, she says "Well you could be my amazing and wonderful 'child' instead of my son and you would still be the same as far as I'm concerned. I would still love you just as much. You're one of my favorite people."

For those who aren't good at speaking white suburban mom, this translates to "I would still love you if you were trans."

What? I'm still confused by this. About once a year, I sit down and take a mental inventory, you know, see who I was this last year, and compare that to who I want to be. That includes taking stock of my gender identity. That part of the process generally amounts to "Am I comfortable in my body? Yes? Good.", but if it were different then that's fine too.

Like, I'm not GNC, I'm not genderqueer, I'm just queer.

Apparently, because trans folks often use this term to refer to themselves, my mom had simply assumed that I was among that crowd.

Again, what? What a fucking leap of logic, mom! Well, at least we know you're an ally.

And also, I'm honestly crossing my fingers with the hope that you'll divorce dad. I love the two of you, but fuck are you awful for each other.

What else happened this week? Hell, I can't remember. Wednesday was weird, but I think I already talked about it previously. That shit with Ruth was a hell of a thing. I told my wife that I'm not going to any family events that Ruth is gonna be at unless my nieces are there. Then I'll just ignore Ruth and play with the kids. They fuckin love me. Hattie, my oldest niece, makes fun of me for "Talking too big" when she brings up God. They don't like Ruth either.

This is already getting kinda long, and I've got work to do, so I guess I'll update some other time.

Please be kind to yourselves.

#tw suicide #vent #blog #journal #mental health #polyamory #but wrong

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outshinethestars · 2 years

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These Beaten Paths, These Broken Words (Daredevil and Batman fic)

Matt Murdock was not at the circus. He didn’t watch the Flying Graysons fall, he didn’t hear the rope snap, he didn’t even hear the screams. He wasn’t listening. The circus wasn’t in Hell’s kitchen and Daredevil wasn’t out the night Graysons fell. For all the things Matt heard, could never block out, there was so much he didn’t. The world is a loud place, constantly drowning itself out.

So he did not hear the ropes snap, did not hear John and Mary Grayson die, did not hear a little boy, lost, alone, crying. Matt Murdock was a blind lawyer, he did not have the time, inclination or spare change to attend a show he couldn’t see. So he was not there when a child lost his parents, did not put a hand on the child’s shoulder, and did not tell him it would get better.

What he heard was a few days later while Daredevil was prowling Hell’s Kitchen, the sound of someone, terrified, begging for his life and the sound of someone else moments from taking it. That was not an unusual sound for Daredevil to hear in the dark of night on patrol, it was unusual though, that the voice begging was that of a grown man, and the voice that threatened him was a child’s. They spoke in Italian, and Matt didn’t understand the words, but he understood the tone perfectly. The child was scared and furious, and he was moments from doing something that couldn’t be undone.

They were close. Matt ran.

The man was on the ground, one broken leg, one broken arm, a lot of bruising. At a guess, Matt would say he’d just fallen from a nearby roof. The boy couldn’t be more than eight years old. He crouched over the man and held a knife at his throat, voice steady.

“Kid,” Matt said (presumably) emerging from the shadows, “What the fuck?”

The man flinched, the kid jumped.

“Are you allowed to say bad words in costume?” the kid asked, his voice was thick with an accent Matt couldn’t place.

Matt was very much out of his depth here.

“Small child,” Matt said, as calmly as he could manage, “You are literally holding a fucking knife to that guy’s throat.”

The kid went stiff, his hand trembled a little on the knife, and Matt smelled blood as it nicked the skin. The man made a scared whimpering noise.

“He killed my mom and dad,” the kid said, voice raw with rage and grief, fresh and suffocating.

Well, shit.

How to stop this child from making the mistake Matt almost made ten years early?

How to explain that feeling he’d had, Sweeney’s face bloody under his fists, that understanding of right and wrong, lines drawn in the sand, and God’s justice above it all, to a child still younger than Matt had been when his father died.

“Killing him won’t bring your parents back,” is what Matt said. He realized how dumb it was the moment it left his mouth.

The kid’s face went hot with anger. He kept breathing like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. At least his outrage distracted him a little from his parents’ murderer, the knife drifted slightly away from the man’s neck.

Finally the kid said, “Habla español?”

“Oh, sí,” Matt said.

The kid took a deep breath, “ That is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” he said in Spanish.

“ I know, ” Matt said, “ I’m sorry.”

“ Of course it won’t bring my parents back! Nothing will bring my parents back. They’re dead and he’s not and I’m not, and I have nothing. Do you understand that? Nothing.”

“ I do. I understand,” Matt said quietly, even though it wasn’t really a question, because he did.

“ The circus couldn’t even keep me. The stupid American government wouldn’t let Haly have custody. I am going to live in this stupid ugly country, in this stupid ugly city for the rest of my life now, and I have no one. And I know that killing this bastard won’t change anything, but he deserves to die for what he did, and I deserve the satisfaction of killing him, and then at least he’ll be dead too. He is a murderer and a mobster and a bully and you can’t tell me the world wouldn’t be better off without him, you don’t have the right.”

“I know ,” Matt said. Because this was different from arguing morality with Frank Castle on a rooftop. This was a child standing in front of him, small and trembling and burning with a fury that Matt could only call righteous. He did not remind Matt of himself at that age. When Matt was as small as this child he wasn’t even blind yet. He did not remind Matt of himself after his father died. When Matt was ten years old, in those months between his father’s death and Stick’s training, Matt hadn’t had the mental wherewithal for vengeance, all he’d wanted to do was scream.

Matt didn’t doubt that the man had killed this child’s parents, the child was utterly sure, and Matt felt no reason to doubt him. This wasn’t something Matt could argue. This was a child, furious, yes, certain, utterly, and very small, and not despite but fueling everything else, scared, and very very lost. Matt hadn’t been there in person, but he heard about what happened to the Flying Graysons on the news later, heard they had left behind a son. It wasn’t hard to put together who this child was.

“ Kid,” Matt said, “Do you really want to see more blood right now?”

The child didn’t say anything. He looked down again at the man, head turning toward the leg twisted at an unnatural angle, and the neck where the boy’s knife had barely nicked him. It didn’t smell like the man was still bleeding, but Matt would guess the tiny trickle of dried blood was still visible there.

The kid swallowed, looked away from the man, all the fight draining out of him.

“ No ,” he said, soft, like a confession.

“Come here,” Matt said, as gently as he knew how. He stepped slowly, silently, around the man, crossing the space to the boy. He took the kid’s shaking hands in his own, took the knife from him. It was instinct, to pick the child up, and it seemed to be instinct in turn that had the boy lean into his touch, wrap his arms Matt’s shoulders and his legs around his waist, so that Matt barely had to hold on to bear his weight at all. Matt held on tight anyway, and the child sank into him, exhausted after what must have been hours of running on rage and adrenaline.

“What happens now?” The kid said, “ He can’t - I can’t - he can’t just get away with it.”

“This guy isn’t going anywhere,” Matt said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to call an ambulance, and then we’re going to go to the police precinct, and you will go in there and ask for Brett Mahoney. You’ll tell him everything you know and he will listen, I promise, and this man will be given justice. He won’t get away, okay?”

“Okay,” the kid said, and Matt could tell that he only half believed it, but it was good enough for now. And it would be true, Matt would make sure of it. The kid’s testimony wouldn’t be enough on it’s own, but he’d put Karen on the scent, they’d find the evidence they’d need. A part of Matt wanted to stay, to interrogate the man, but he was almost passed out now, and the boy was what was important. Matt would take the kid to the precinct, and then stay and listen to what he had to say to Brett, hear his story first. Like he’d told the kid, the man wasn’t going anywhere.

#fic and fic-like things #my stuff #daredevil (TV)#batfamily #Matt Murdock #dick grayson

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anthro-bean · 2 years

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I gotchu fam.

The modern AU with Tavarti. Feel like going in depth with that?

You spoil me

Tavarti is an investigative journalist/activist/ general pain-in-the-ass. She drives a barely functional motorcycle (paladin mount lol), lives in a shitty studio apartment, and meets with her DnD group on Fridays. She wears a ratty old bomber jacket with sunflower patches, jeans, t-shirts, and a pair of old biker boots. Has been arrested multiple times. Will argue with the entire group over rp choices because she's a paladin guys come on. She joined the group as a favor to an old friend (The Narrator) who wanted to DM a special campaign she's been working on.

She shows up at DMs place for the first night where she introduces her to the rest of the group:

Gale, a local professor at a research university who recently went on sabbatical after a relationship with his department got messy. Totally has leather patches on his blazer sleeves . Lives alone with his cat in a nice apartment filled with books. Met the DM at a coffee house poetry night and is joining the DnD group because he's going through a lot rn and needs the distraction. A total rules lawyer and argues with the DM.

Lae'zel, who recently graduated from the police academy. Comes from a family of cops, her mom is the chief. Wears leather jackets with lots of spikes and scary af rings. Wants a red motorcycle. Is mean to people on the internet. Loves combat and hates the RPing. Joined the group as a personal favor to the DM who she met at a court ordered anger management seminar.

Wyll, a cut-off rich kid who is struggling to turn his life around and get away from his toxic ex. Works with kids at the community center and volunteers a lot. Likes Marvel movies. Met the DM at the community center and hit them up after they posted something about starting a new campaign on social media. He thought it'd be fun and he really needed a new social circle. Lives to RP, terrible at combat. Rolls either 1s or 20s.

Astarion got into an abusive relationship with a powerful partner at the law firm he worked at. He's finally gotten out of the situation and has been couch surfing while he looks for a new place/job. Has an OnlyFans (which he uses to pay the bills atm). Ends up crashing at Tavarti's place a lot because she has a hard time saying no (and has the easiest to break into apartment). Met the DM through "work" (onlyfans or court? Who knows) and ended up joining the DnD group because he was already sleeping on her couch at the time so why not. Plays a pain-in-the-ass, "it's what my character would do" rogue. Steals everything. Constantly handing notes to the DM.

Shadowheart does... something. No one is sure what exactly it is but they all assume it's illegal. Cute goth gf. Doesn't use social media where you can't be anonymous or self destructing like snapchat. Deletes her reddit account every few months. Uses burner phones and no one has her number. Cyberstalks the entire group. Met DM at some underground concert thing. Will heal you for +1 because that's all you deserve and then solos the rest of combat after you all wipe. She plays all the time and wanted to find a new group.

#oc: sunflower knight tries their best #bg3 modern au #bg3 #modern au #self indulgent nonsense

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sayoteicecream · 1 month

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Hidden Conversation

This morning, I had a chance to enjoy coffee with my dad in our humble little house in a provincial town. It was obvious that our words were chosen. There were frustrations and sadness when we ranted to others - me with my mom and my dad with, well, also my mom.

He told my mom that he was struggling and felt so bad about me giving up my salary. He obviously felt a lot of guilt and wanted the treatment to end soon. So I know he was trying his best to get well.

On the other hand, I was complaining to my mom that I had to give up my entire salary for his medications. I also constantly complain about not having enough cash for food and health.

But this morning, my dad and I talked. It was super filtered. He expressed his disappointment about his money going down the drain and how he wished the gap between the cycles would be longer so our cash outflow would be also less often. He didn't comment about me losing my entire salary to help fund his medicines. And I held back from complaining about my dwindling savings account because of his medications.

The conversation changed to another topic - I am just glad we stopped talking about how our cash - his and my savings accounts - are reaching the negative. We talked about his plans to fix the house and offered one of the rooms as my office where I could draft my whatever-related-to-my-lawyer status. He said I could come here and rest if ever I go to fieldwork. He said that once he gets better he will fix the house and told me to invest in fixing that "office".

I said, sure. But complained about the distance of my clients' base to our house. In the end, I said, "Yes, this house is a great place to live in".

I felt sorry for complaining so much. And probably, he feels sorry for me.

It was a casual conversation but words unsaid were totally said that time.

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lifeafteratransplant · 4 months

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Health Anxiety & Trying to Get Into a Routine

Life, is hard. No doubt about it, and having a crazy, stressful schedule is not making it any easier, obviously.

No I don't have kids, but I have a husband, two animals, and myself. Lab/blood draw appointments every Monday, grocery shopping, taking my photography classes, taking my dog to vet for whatever reason, taking him to the groomers, making sure I visit with my mom, and talk to my family back in Iowa, it all comes down on me, and yeah it might not seem as hard as raising a kid, but it is hard for me.

I am double organ transplant recipatant. Which means that I have health anxiety through the roof sometimes. I have to check my blood levels every week just tp make sure I am ok. I hope that it isn't like that forever but I have been through 3 rejections in the 2 years since I had my transplant. Every time was terrifying. This last time was the scariest thought, cause it wasn't just my pancreas it was my kidney too. The thought of loosing my kidney made me sob, and my heart jump out of my chest. My pancreas has been touchy since the get-go. If I loose that I would become diabetic again, which I can handle. Loosing my kidney would me I would have to go back on dialysis and for me that isn't an option. They have used the strongest rejection drugs on me as the possibly can, 3 times now. Meaning that I cannot take them again. Imagine that in the back of your head 24/7, not fun.

This anxiety that I carry makes it hard to make plans, be in public, affects relationships, and causes deep depression and loneliness. I live in a state where this not a lot to do. With my multiple rejections, I haven't been able to hold a job, So basically I am a stay home wife, and that is not something I thought I would ever be. I'm not saying that is bad by any means, but I NEED to have a job to feel like I am contributing to society some how. It becomes very lonely and I fall into a state of depression where it is hard to get out of sometimes.

That is where the second half of the title of this blog post comes in. Trying to have a routine is so important. You have better sleep, which helps your mood, and you energy levels, which helps you get done that shit that needs to get done. I wake up about 8:30-9 every morning, and as of recently try to have breakfast. Whether it be a smoothie, toast and fruit, eggs and bacon. Something in my stomach always helps. Also I take a lot of meds so that is important to have food in your system when taking those. From there, I usually get on the computer check my emails, scroll Facebook, and then look at what I need to do around the house. I am ALWAYS cleaning it seems, I have two pets, both who shed like crazzzzy! Vacuuming every day or every other day is a must, and moping at least once a week. I cooke a lot so constantly loading and unloading the dishwasher, and cleaning the stove and counter tops. The list goes on. After the cleaning is done, I watch my photography courses, do some laundry, make myself lunch, and as of recently I had to put together a whole list of documents for my husband's immigration lawyer so he can get his 10 year green card. Some days I run into town to run errands, like doctor's appointments, grocery shopping, pick up medications, and as of recently furniture shopping. (I'll explain that in another post) I find that just having a list of things to do and crossing them off really helps me.

Everyone's life is different, so that means every routine will look different. Don't model your life after someone else's, you do what works best for you and your schedule. Know your limits, take the time to rest and take care of yourself and life will start to get, maybe not easier, but let's say peaceful. Find solitude and happiness in the little things, and don't take yourself so seriously. Always take care of YOU first, then you can give your best self to the ones you love.

Much love,

Karli

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yuzukult · 3 years

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acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 15) - Trouble In Paradise

Summary: The reader is enjoying settling into her newfound children’s book career and shares how important the bracelet she gave Jensen is to her. A rainy day allows the reader to enjoy her shift into motherhood despite all of the bumps that go with it. But not everything is smooth sailing for the happy couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of past abuse, nightmares, major angst

A/N: Uh oh. Big uh oh. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

Two Weeks Later

“Honey bun,” sang Jensen as he stepped into your home office you’d set up in the small reading room in the house. “Must you work today?”

“I do occasionally have to work on that drawing thing,” you said. He pouted and laid out on the daybed, picking up a copy of the third book. “Give me another hour to finish with these pages.”

“Can I hang out and watch you draw?” he asked.

“Knock your socks off,” you said. You picked up your stylus again and went back to your pad, Jensen sitting up and watching from the other side of the room. “You can sit closer if you want.”

He got up and pulled over a chair, crossing his legs in it.

“I basically draw using my stylus and this pad and it shows up on my laptop screen,” you said.

“We could get you a better screen, like your own separate work computer. I know your stories are picking up a lot of steam.”

“I’m okay for now. All I need to do is finish illustrating this book and my five book deal is done and ready for print,” you said.

“Can I make a request?”

“I would love to put in a giraffe for Zepp but the story takes place in the woods,” you said.

“Baby giraffe? Maybe just in the background?” he asked.

You backed out of your current page and went to the last two where the foxes and wolves were playing with their friends. You tapped on a tree and erased it, sketching out a loose shape.

“Look up a giraffe for me?” you asked. He tapped away on his phone and pulled up a picture. “Thanks.”

You drew a picture of a rough giraffe, softening it some before adding colors.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“The characters are easy. Backgrounds can get boring,” you said. You went back to your original set of pages and worked quietly, Jensen watching carefully. “Yes?”

“Just wanna spend time with you is all,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, baby,” you said. You worked for another hour, Jensen asking the occasional question but mostly staying silent and close by. After you sent off the pages for review you turned to him, Jensen offering a soft smile in return. “All set with work for the day.”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Where’s the munchkins?”

“A movie,” he said. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into it. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret? I don’t think I have too many of those left from you,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked at you through his lashes. “What?”

“You said you got this on vacation,” he said, holding up his wrist, the bracelet you’d put on him two weeks ago still there. “When we were down there, I was talking to Ray and he kinda implied it wasn’t just a souvenir.”

“I was upset that day when he bought it for me. It meant I was safe was all,” you said.

“How long after did your mom…”

“A few months. She went on bed rest after that trip.”

“Y/N, I know when you’re holding back, honey. I would never judge or tell anyone anything. You know that.”

“You got hurt because you lost someone and you got hurt and it sucks right? But it’s kinda like something happened and then you heal from it right?”

“Yeah…” he said. “What don’t I know?”

“You know how anxious you were to get in the car and drive down to the beach?” you asked as he nodded. “You’ve never been afraid of a person, Jensen. It’s like that feeling...but everyday and you’re expected to live your life normally when you constantly have that over your head.”

He was quiet, glancing past you as the room grew darker from some passing clouds outside.

“Canada wasn’t the first time you saw your father since you were adopted, was it,” he said.

“You wouldn’t believe what a good lawyer and shitty laws will do for a piece of shit like that,” you said.

“You were a kid.”

“With zero physical evidence. Everything was circumstantial. So he got out and he came to apologize or some bullshit and Ray decked him.”

“The more I learn about Ray, the more I like him.”

“My mom kicked him in the nuts.”

“I really like that woman,” he said. You smiled and he moved his chair closer, pulling you into his lap. “I don’t mean to make you talk about your dad. I was curious was all.”

He went to take off the bracelet when you put a hand over it.

“I don’t want to remind you of something bad, sweetheart.”

“Like I said, I was upset. Very upset and in public and I went down to the beach to try to hide away. Ray bought that for me and told me I was safe when he put it on me. All it means to me is that you’re safe.”

“What about you? What do you have?” he asked quietly. You cocked your head and moved your hand to rest over his chest. “Alright, sort of a dumb question.”

“Not dumb,” you said, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay as close as humanly possible.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you said.

“Do you have a restraining order against your father?”

“No but that’s only because Ray managed to get him kicked out of the country. He found some loophole law. He was born in the Yukon so technically he’s not American and he got him kicked back.”

“Scratch that. Ray is my new favorite person,” he said. “If only we could send him someplace we’ll never visit like...a deserted island. Or Hell.”

“I appreciate the thought but I’m not scared of him anymore,” you said. “I am however afraid our plans of lunch at the brewery are going to get rained out.”

“We can enjoy ourselves right here. I’ve never heard a complaint yet about my grilling.”

“You know what? I got the perfect idea.”

“Okay,” said Jensen, sliding the foil packet off the grill and onto JJ’s plate. You’d decided to have lunch on the grill, sitting out under the covered back patio off the playroom. It was pouring rain but you were plenty dry there. “Chicken, marinara sauce and cheese. Then we got chicken, ketchup and baby carrots for Arrow. Zeppy wanted to try barbecue sauce and onion which sounded good to me and then Y/N went for the salmon and lemon.”

You helped the twins open up their foil packets and get their food on their plates, dicing up the chicken for them before going to your own plate.

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin while he chewed on a big piece of chicken. Jensen hummed and worked on his own food. “Can we play race cars after lunch?”

“Sure,” he said, JJ shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna play cars,” she said. Zeppelin stared at her and his bottom lip wobbled. “You’re a cry baby.”

“JJ, that’s rude,” you said, Jensen glancing at you and nodding. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“We’re gonna play cars after lunch and you’re welcome to join,” said Jensen. “Your brother goes along with what you girls want to play quite a bit so I think you can do the same for him.”

“I still don’t wanna play cars,” she mumbled.

“You play cars with the Padalecki boys all the time,” you said.

“Not little kid cars,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to play right.”

You saw Zeppelin getting upset again and sighed.

“There’s no wrong way to play,” you said. “Zepp’s littler than you. You gotta be the big sister and do what he wants sometimes.”

“Mom would have played dress up,” she grumbled. “Not stupid cars.”

“Enough,” said Jensen. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your brother wants to play cars. We played horses all morning long and you barely let him have a turn at that so like I said, we’re gonna play what he wants and you are welcome to join us but if you don’t want to, you can play something else,” he said.

“Baby,” she said under her breath. Jensen didn’t catch it but you did.

“JJ you’re in timeout after lunch. Ten minutes,” you said.

“I didn’t-”

“You just called him a baby. You want to make it fifteen?” you asked.

“You’re not my mom! You can’t give me timeouts,” she said.

“Half an hour now,” said Jensen. She stared at him and he shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

Zeppelin spent half of it crying quietly and JJ barely touched hers before she was following Jensen inside. You threw your head back and sighed before you went inside to get some tissues. When you came back out Arrow was hugging him tightly.

“Let’s clean you up, buddy,” you said as you squatted down beside them. She let go of him and you wiped off his face and helped him blow his nose. “Feel better?”

“We can play dress up,” he said. You picked him up and hoisted him on your hip.

“We’re gonna play cars. Arrow, do you want to play with us?” you asked. She smiled and nodded. “Hey how about you go wash your hands and then you can bring out the bucket of cars and we’ll play out here. How’s that sound Zepp?”

“Okay,” he said. Arrow went inside and you carried him around as you collected the trash and threw it in the bag you brought out. You tied it up and left it in the corner to put in the bin later before you you walked to the edge of the covered patio, rain coming down at a decent rate. “Y/N you’re my mom right?”

“I’m one of your moms,” you said. “I’m gonna adopt you that way everybody can know I am though.”

“Cool,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Mom can we play in the rain?”

“Hear any thunder?” you asked. He shook his head. “See any lightning?”

“Nuh uh,” he said.

“Then we can play in the rain all you want,” you said. You walked out to the grass and spun around with him, getting a giggle out of him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked. You spun around again and he laughed.

“There it is again!” you said. He giggled and you spun around a few times until you were dizzy and took a seat. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as you noticed Jensen leaning against the post of the patio. He was smiling and you hopped up with Zeppelin, waving him around in the air until you were back under cover. You set him down and he ran over to Arrow, picking out his favorite cars from the bucket and handing her some.

“Well that might have been one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“You took a picture, didn’t you.”

“Oh several,” he said. He glanced back at the twins and then at you. “It clicked for you just now didn’t it.”

“Being a mom? Yeah.”

“You didn’t look to me on how to discipline JJ and you made him feel better and you made him laugh. You went full mom there and I’ve kinda been waiting for that.”

“I know it’s just playing they’re arguing over but I just hate...there is so much of you in him,” you said.

“I know and that feeling will never go away but it means you love ‘em and loving them is my only requirement for us working so this was actually a really good thing.”

“Those two are so sweet,” you said.

“It’s the twin thing. Oh what fun we have to look forward to when they are teenagers and they lie to us for one another,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but I’ll take it. Did you really give her a half hour timeout?”

“Fifteen minutes. She needs to share more and he doesn’t like confrontation so he goes along with what she wants but it’s not her road or the highway.”

“She’s been a little…”

“I know. Since we told them about the engagement,” he said. “We gotta talk to her on her own.”

“Let me take a crack at her first?” you asked.

“You got a hunch?”

“I don’t think having a mom again is a problem. I think the idea of losing a mom again is.”

“That makes sense considering she was attached to your hip before all this.”

“I’m gonna go see if I can get to the bottom of this. Now go play cars,” you said. He kissed your cheek and you headed inside, drying off some with a towel in the laundry room before you went up to JJ’s bedroom. You knocked and cracked open the door, catching her splayed out on her bed. “JJ. Can we talk?”

She rolled and put her back to you. You sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

“You know your brother did what you wanted all day. You have to share,” you said. She didn’t say anything and you lay back on the bed, turning your head. She rolled back the other way and you sat up. She rolled again and you tilted your head back. “JJ do you want me to be your mom?”

“No,” she mumbled.

“Are you lying?” She didn’t move and you sat back, her face scrunched up. “Are you scared if I’m your mom something bad will happen to me?”

“I don’t want two dead moms,” she said.

“I have two dead moms,” you said. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. “My first mom, I never met her. She died giving birth to me.”

“You only had a dad when you were born?” she asked. You nodded and pulled her into your lap. “Did he get married again?”

“No. My dad was very mad my mom died. He took that out on me. He was a bad guy. He went to jail and I got adopted by my mom when I was your age. Ray was her boyfriend. He acted like he was my dad in a lot of ways. I was sixteen when my mom died. I understand it hurts, sweetie, and that it’s scary and you don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I thought if I was bad you and daddy wouldn’t...and then I don’t have to feel bad again.”

“I am so sorry honey but you can’t stop that feeling from never coming back. The only way you could not get it would be to not love anyone or anything and that’s not a life at all. It’s the price you pay for loving someone. Your mom was an accident. But Daddy is young and I’m even younger and I promise you will not have to feel that way about me for a very, very long time.”

“How long?”

“How about fifty years?”

“Fifty years? That’s forever,” she said.

“I’ll give you fifty years if I can be your mom and you stop picking on Zepp. Deal?”

“Okay. I’m sorry I made him cry.”

“I’m not the one that needs an apology,” you said. “Now do you want stay in here all by yourself or do you want to come play with us?”

“I can play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” you said. You got up and carried her down on your back, setting her down to let her run off out to the porch. Jensen got up from his seat and held up a finger, ducking back inside to where you were.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said as she gave Zeppelin a hug and he handed her a car.

“I did have to promise not to die for fifty years.”

“Fifty? You got off easy. I had to promise a hundred after the accident,” he chuckled. “I should have noticed she was scared.”

“I have more experience being a scared little girl than you do. I got experience with letting people get close again too,” you said.

“How’s that working out for ya?” he smirked.

“He’s lucky he’s hot,” you said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and grinned. “Do you want to get married in the fall?”

“This fall?” he asked.

“Can we pull it off that fast?” you asked.

“Yeah. We don’t have to book a venue which is the hardest part. I don’t see why not. What’s the rush?” he asked.

“It’s easier to adopt them if we’re married,” you said. “I don’t really want to wait longer than we have to if that’s alright.”

“I’d say let’s go drive down to city hall and get a justice of the peace right now if I knew my mother wouldn’t kill me for it. How about I call up the lawyer and ask him to start prepping the paperwork as if we already were so it’s all set to go,” he said.

“You have a lawyer?” you asked. “They’d do that?”

“Y/N, honey. My taxes alone frighten me not to mention I own a business with employees and what qualifies as a business write off still confuses me and wait you don’t have a lawyer for your book deal?”

“Should I have one?”

“Greg is your lawyer now,” he said. “He’s good. He’ll do all the paperwork for us.”

“Oh good cause all the forms online were confusing the hell out of me,” you said. He shook his head and pulled you in close.

“Silly goose,” he said, a loud boom of thunder shaking the house. “Let’s get the crew inside before it pours.”

“Who wants to build a fort?” you asked that afternoon. JJ jumped up and down on the couch and Jensen walked in with an arm full of blankets and sheets. Three little hands shot up and Jensen lazily tossed the blankets on the couch, covering the three of them.

“Hm, where’d those three munchkins run off to…” he said, Arrow ducking her head out first, hair all in her face. Jensen giggled and she rolled her eyes, the other two climbing out. “Alright. I’m gonna grab clothes pins and a few more things. You guys start designing.”

You stood back and let JJ organize, figuring out her first choice of blanket for a roof was too small. Jensen returned with a bag of clips, some twine and the step ladder, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“How they doing?” he whispered.

“Picking out the roof,” you said, Arrow rushing over and grabbing his hand as Zeppelin climbed on JJ’s back and held up a sheet over the two of them with one hand. You smirked and she let out another eye roll.

“Daddy, can you pick up Zeppy so then he can put the blankie up? I told them they’re too small,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Tell me where you want it to go.”

Twenty minutes later the family room was covered with sheets, tied off to the stairs, chairs, the ceiling fan after Jensen broke out the larger ladder to get up there and assured you it wouldn’t bring the whole thing crashing down.

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” asked JJ.

“I don’t see why not,” you said. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. We’ll bring down your comforters when it’s bedtime,” you said.

“Can we watch Cars?” asked Zeppelin, glancing at JJ.

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a hug and picked him up, Jensen smiling to himself as he looked on.

“Can we get pizza for dinner like a real sleepover?” asked Arrow.

“We did cook up all the chicken at lunch,” you said, giving Jensen a side eye.

“Yeah we’ll get one,” he said. “Why don’t you turn on your movie okay? We’ll be right there.”

You let Jensen pull you into the kitchen, smirking as he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

“Seems like today’s crisis has been averted,” you said.

“I’m sure they’ll go back to tormenting each other tomorrow but I’ll take it,” he said, reaching into the drawer next to you, pulling out a menu. “So. You interested in pizza?”

“Oh that looks interesting,” you said, taking the pamphlet out of his hand and tapping at a special. “One cheese, one speciality, boneless wings and garlic bread? My little carb loving heart is in love.”

“She’s not the only one,” he said, leaning up on his tip toes and kissing you.

“Are you coming?” groaned JJ from in the fort. You shook your head and Jensen kissed your neck, even nibbling before he pulled back. You smacked his chest and he set the menu down, giving you a wink.

“We’re coming in right now. Don’t wait for us kiddo.”

You woke up sweating, Jensen shushing you, arms wrapped around you. You took a deep breath and caught the clock said it was almost three. You turned in his arms and buried your head in his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re okay. Bad dream is all,” he said softly. You nodded and started to relax, flinching when there was more thunder. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get ya.”

The thunder shook the house and you tensed up. Jensen pulled the covers over both your heads and you crammed in as close as humanly possible when more thunder hit.

“Honey look at me. Please look at me.” You lifted your head and saw a horrible face in front of you, a scream ripping out of your throat.

“Y/N,” you heard as you woke up absolutely drenched, Jensen’s hands on your face. “Honey, talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“Night terror,” you said quietly.

“Yeah, JJ used to have them. I didn’t know adults could get them,” he said.

“Can I have a cold washcloth? And some water?” you asked. He got out of bed and padded into the bathroom in his boxers, settling back into bed and handing you the water. You drank it down while he wiped off your face and neck, running it over your head. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mostly feel embarrassed.” He frowned and you put the glass on your nightstand, staring down at your sweaty shirt.

“Should I call Ray?”

“It was a stupid nightmare. I’m fine,” you said.

“You were sat up eyes wide open and talking and shouting and I couldn’t wake you up,” he said. “I know adults really shouldn’t be getting night terrors so maybe something triggered you or something during the day.”

“I know my triggers and I know when it’s just a stupid nightmare. Back off,” you said. You got out from under the hot covers and went outside to the balcony, the air nice and cool from the storm earlier. The slide of the door was loud in the the quiet and you rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve seen you have nightmares. That was a lot worse,” he said.

“I thought I saw someone watching the house earlier.”

“What?”

“It was the neighbor’s kid, the teenager. It was his friend and he came over late but I thought...it freaked me out. That on top of thinking about the fact my father is not rotting in a jail cell most likely sent me over the edge,” you said. He walked in front of you, resting his hands on your arms. “I’m okay. Needed some air was all.”

“Alright. Tell me if something like that happens again?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s head on back to bed.”

“What do you mean?” you growled into the phone the next evening. Jensen lifted his head from his book in the family room and you walked away, stepping out to the private patio area on the side of the house. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s been fifteen years. He has every legal right to be in the country.”

“In the country! He got an apartment seven minutes from where I live!” you said. “I have little kids here, Finn. Tell me there’s something I can do.”

“I can get a restraining order-”

“That doesn’t mean shit to him. I need him fucking deported. I need him gone.”

“Y/N, you know me. I have never agreed to it but he paid his debt as it was assigned and he quietly followed the law. He did what he was supposed to and I’m sorry but until he does something, I can’t do anything besides help you and your fiance’s family get a restraining order.”

“So until he does something horrible again, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No Finn. I appreciate the heads up but...I have to go.”

You hung up and squeezed your phone tight. He knew where you lived. He was minutes away and there was absolutely zero help until something went wrong. You sat on a bench and bounced your leg. Nothing could go wrong. You couldn’t let anything go wrong. Who knew what the son of a bitch would do to any one of them.

You stopped bouncing your leg just as you heard the door open. You lifted your head and stood, spinning around to Jensen standing there.

“Everything alright?”

“Actually no.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“My ex,” you said, swallowing. You crossed your arms and thought of the things Jensen had told you about acting and getting in character and all that. You were gonna destroy him. Fuck you were going to end up shattering him into a thousand pieces he’d never put back together.

You couldn’t really lie just to keep them away from him, could you?

You saw Arrow run past in the house and made your face hard. Broken heart but safe kids was worth it.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” said Jensen. You turned up your chin and he smiled. “You are the worst actress in the world. Who was it really?”

“I think we’re moving too fast and I want to take a break and I would appreciate it if you gave me my space to figure this out on my own.”

“Uh, what?” he said. You brushed past him and he followed you in, all the way up to your bedroom. You got out a bag and he flipped it shut. “What the hell is going on? Who was on the phone?”

“My boyfriend,” you said. He stared at you and you sighed. “You’re a great guy but I’m sorry. I can’t do the house and kids thing. I want to go see the world and not be tied down and you’re just...you’re too damn old for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you should have trusted your first instincts when you saw me and Doug,” you said. He stared at you while you shoved some clothes in a bag. You slung it over your shoulder and he caught the backside of it. You took off your ring and put it on the table by the door, Jensen dropping his hand. “I just can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

______

A/N: Read Part 16 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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doyouknowhowtowaltz · 3 years

Note

Please, I must know about your Addams Family AU, my curiosity keeps me up nights

Bear in mind there's little in the way of story put together right now, so I am going to throw down the notes for this au, and a lot of really early sketches.

Meet the Addams! (A break for your convenience because this is long as hell)

- Enoch, Beast, Young Lorna, Whispers, and Adelaide Addams make up the Addams family (in addition to Pumpkin (cat) and Turtle (Dog)

- Beast is the only blood Addams in the lot, and is heir to the Addam's fortune, his living relatives are distant, most don't even share the family name anymore, and all immediate family have been dead and dust for at least a decade.

- Both Whispers and Adelaide are sisters that married into the family and have been since widowed

- Enoch is married into the family (Through Beast, who else)

- Lorna's specific relation to the family is never specified, everyone is Auntie and Uncle, as far as the town is concerned, she's everyone's niece. Its also highly debated if anyone in the family actually knows where Lorna came from.

- Enoch and the Beast are exactly in love as Gomez and Morticia,

- Enoch somehow has even less inhibitions about showing it than Gomez

- Enoch is friendly, the neighbors love him, thinking he's the most normal one of the bunch despite his... unconventional dressing. Strangers who are new to the family normally latch onto him when faced with the... oddity of the rest of the family.

- One problem with this, Enoch isn't a man. He's man-shaped... barely. Enoch's eldritch nature is continually hinted at as part of a long running joke in this AU about Enoch being the normal one despite making no secret of the fact he feels terribly limited by two arms.

- (This is the version of Enoch that made me enact the Rat test)

- There's a rumor running around the neighborhood about a black cat that calls itself Providence and will strike up a conversation with you if you greet it politely.

- Enoch, of course, denies any connection.

- Enoch, weird as he might be, and off-putting as he is on second meeting, does actually have a lot of friends in town, some as odd as him and some perfectly normal average humans who are undaunted in the face of his family.

- One such individual is Miss Clara Dean, who is a finance lawyer for the Addams, and while she might have been shaken when she first met them, she's well past gawking at their odd home and traditions now

- His human glamor is tied to his bolo, I will not elaborate

- Enoch runs for mayor every opportunity, he never wins, but its always by thinner margins than should really be possible

- Adelaide never took her husband's last name, making her the only Addams who's not an Addams.

- She's fussy about the night air, dreadfully superstitious, and quite spiderlike, right down to a colorful web she keeps. She would have married Beast if he had shown a flicker of interest in him.

- She can divine the weather and sometimes says strange things about blue birds and curses

- She doesn't get out much, the neighbors don't know much about her, but all the neighborhood kids agree, she's definitely a witch.

- Whispers is very kind, and if you get past the initial shine on Enoch, probably the most normal of the family

- Except that she eats animals live

- And is also a witch (Probably, definitely, the neighborhood kids all agree, she's gotta be they insist.) Between her and Enoch they are the most out and about members of the Addams family.

- Lorna is quiet, shy, very sweet

- And she eats people.

- She also has a drowned ghost routine she likes to practice on door to door sales people by climbing out of the well in the backyard to give them a scare.

- Lorna's teachers are concerned by her behavior and encyclopedia knowledge of anatomy and torture, but are more concerned about calling a parent-teacher conference, since the entire Addams Clan will show up.

- Lorna sleeps under her bed instead of on it, Whispers occasionally frets about her waking up and knocking herself against the baseboards of the bed, Beast waves her off telling her its perfectly natural, at her age he was sleeping in a coffin.

- She of course ends up with Wednesday's classic noose braids at some point, courtesy of her uncles usually

- There's a red-haired girl who's tough as nails and maybe a little rude about Lorna's family who has been steadily hanging out with her, eventually Beatrice's mom invites the Addams over for dinner, it goes well all things considered.

- And that brings us to Mr. Addams himself,

- Beast wasn't christened Beast, but he hardly remembers the name on his birth certificate anyway.

- Sporting a stunning hat-veil constantly, and a floor length dress (Always black, only black maybe some red, sometimes a little blue and yellow), its safe to say no one in the neighborhood knows what Beast looks like, even if he did ever leave the Addams manor.

- Which he doesn't.

- The nicer gossips muse that he's agoraphobic, and the ruder ones say he's batshit and they're frankly glad he stays inside.

- Beast isn't inherently rude... most of the time, but he is incredibly disconcerting, and gives complements like a serial killer. Which does not help the numerous rumors that surround him and his family.

- He sings too, roaming the woods on the Addams property at night, and he's responsible for a fair few ghost stories.

- And his garden, its a bitter grey thing, and its almost artfully... decrepit, decorated by ornamental trees with grey-orange leaves and bark that almost looks like screaming faces. And his rose bushes, they're his pride and joy. They are so high maintenance though, when they bloom, he spends hours cutting their heads off.

- Every now and then, someone comes to the house, a door to doors salesman, a child on a dare, someone chasing stories of the Addams Fortune.

- All's well and good unless they manage to break into the house. Sometimes they get tangled in Adelaide's traps, sometimes Whispers finds them and ushers them out the door with an ominous warning, sometimes Lorna scares them out of the house and works herself into a giggling fit. Sometimes Enoch finds them, and he's all politeness and veiled menace.

- Oh, but heaven help the fool who gets found by Beast.

- I think that about wraps it up!

Something something cats on leashes, they're grossly in love.

#OTGW #over the garden wall #Enoch otgw #Enoch #The Beast #The Beast OTGW #dumb gay eldritch psychopomps #beastnoch #Lorna #The Addams AU #Lorna OTGW #Auntie Whispers #Adelaide #thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about it #I love this au so much

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between the Bloodshed | Chapter 7

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Going with your parents to an event, you didn’t think to meet some familiar faces there. And finally, the 7 boys get to see the family that you refused to speak about.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

The dreaded friday morning finally came. Your mother had spent the whole night before on the phone with you, squealing excitedly about the dress she chose for you.

“I’ll see you tonight, Kookie.” You stroked his head, making sure the rabbit had enough food and water for the day. Adjusting your hair in the mirror, you cringed slightly at yourself, clad in a light blue sundress your mother always liked. You slung your bag over your shoulder and headed out the door.

“Can I have a coffee to go, please?” You ordered. The maid bowed and scurried off to make your regular iced coffee order.

“Woah.” Jungkook came down.

“One word and you’ll be unconscious.” You grumbled. He choked, whistling innocently instead.

“Have a nice day, agashi.” The maid placed your to-go container on the counter. You nodded your head and took a sip. When you turned to head to the front door, you saw 7 pairs of eyes staring at you.

“What?” You hissed.

“Nothing.” Taehyung shook his head. You rolled your eyes, walking to the front to wear your shoes.

“I’ll be back tonight.” You mumbled, giving a backwards wave before leaving the house. Your father was already waiting by his car for you. You gave a small wave and headed over. Without a word, your father just gave an acknowledging nod and entered the car. That was your relationship, strictly professional. Frankly, you were thankful for that.

“Your mom is very excited for you to visit.” He said as he started to drive.

“I know. Work gets busy so it’s hard to stop by.” You shrugged, putting your seatbelt on.

“This family seems well off.” He commented.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of them. They aren’t exactly hidden from public eye in terms of their achievements and wealth. 7 young men, rich beyond belief.” You scoffed.

“I do know them, do you?”

“I would like to think I do. Working for them has been a pleasure, so far. For young men, they keep things very professional.” You said. Your parents always tried to convince you to work in a normal hospital, they always believed your skills should be displayed for others to see.

“You declined your mother’s invitation for that surgical seminar?”

“She has other surgeons under her that are equally, if not more, qualified than me. It’ll benefit them better if one of them were elected to go instead of me.” You explained. Your father pursed his lips.

The car pulled up to the house. It wasn’t a mansion but it was still a rather big property that your parents owned.

“(y/n)!” Your mother ran out to greet you with a hug.

“Omma.” You hesitantly wrapped your arms around her. She chuckled, pulling away as she held your hands in hers. Patting the back of your hands, she led you into the house.

“You look healthy.” She complimented.

“Thank you.” You gave a small smile. There was an array of dishes on the dining table, ready for you to arrive for a meal. You went to help bring the bowls of rice out. Even if it was awkward with your parents, it was nice to have a sit down, family style meal. Your parents sat opposite you, together, while you sat across the table.

“The car will be picking us up at 7pm.” Your father said. You nodded your head, chewing the end of your chopstick to stop yourself from saying something you would regret.

“Stop that, (y/n). It’s a bad habit.” Your mother scolded. You removed the metal from your mouth, picking the foods instead.

“That’s a nice bracelet.” Your mother smiled.

“Oh, yeah... Just a token gift from a friend.” You shrugged it off. Through the rest of the meal, you listened to your parents talk about what they have been up to at work, in an attempt to persuade you to work with them.

“You didn’t accept my invitation for that seminar. It’s prestigious, (y/n), that’s why I want you to go.” Your mother said.

“One of your surgeons under you would benefit better from it than me, omma. Besides, I’m under a contract to work with my client now. It wouldn’t be responsible of me to just leave for a two week seminar like that.” You scoffed, putting a scoop of rice into your mouth.

"Have you spoken to your brother recently?” Your father asked. You shook your head. Your brother didn’t live in Korea, he lived in the UK with his family.

“Well, he has been helping with a lot of big cases in the queen’s court. They may even fly him to the States to give a seminar to some prestigious universities.” He informed.

“I see...” Your brother wasn’t a doctor like you but he was a big-shot lawyer that worked on tons of famous court cases.

“He says he wants to visit in a few weeks. You should be here so we can have a nice dinner together. Jumin might want to have the baby here.” Your mother said excitedly.

“Oh, really...” You weren’t really interested at the thought of your sister-in-law having her second child here.

“And you can help too.”

“Omma, I’m working, I told you. I can’t be here just to take care of her new born.” You sighed. You loved your sister-in-law but having to live in a house with her, her new born and your nephew while your brother is here, will be torture for you with your parents constantly telling you how much greater they are compared to you.

RINGGGGGGG

“Sorry, work call.” You stood up and stepped aside to answer your phone.

“Hello?”

“Am I interrupting? You just sound like you’re having the time of your life. ”

“Ha... ha... sure. But no, you’re to interrupting, you called at the perfect time, actually. What’s up? Someone dead or close to being dead?” You asked. Jimin laughed at your joke.

“Unfortunately, no. Yoongi hyung is complaining about pain so I just wanted to ask if there is anything I can give him.”

“Well, considering my medicine safe keys are with me, there’s no much you can do. Oh wait, Jin has a spare set. You can get him to open it. Look for the green bottle labelled ‘Celebrex’ or celecoxib. Give him one and that should be enough until I come back tonight.” You instructed.

“Wait, how come only Jin hyung gets to have a spare set of keys?”

“As the oldest, I would trust that he is responsible enough to not have a feast with my pills.” You scoffed.

“I’m hurt that you don’t think we’re responsible enough.”

“That doesn’t make me feel guilty at all. Anyway, let me know how Yoongi is. For now, ask him to wear his sling.” You told Jimin. You wouldn’t mind Yoongi having to call you home to help him.

“He’s still able to curse at us so we should be fine.”

“Bummer.” You mumbled. With another laugh, Jimin hung up. You sighed, returning to the table.

“Your dad just got called in for an emergency.” Your mother informed as she cleared up the dishes. You nodded your head, watching your father put his coat on and grab his work bag. With a small wave of acknowledgement, he slipped his shoes on and left. Your parents were both workaholics, they were always highly praised for their work ethics.

“So, any partners yet?” Your mother asked as you helped her with the dishes.

“Omma, you know I’m not looking for anyone now. I’m very much involved in my work like you and dad.” You said.

“But still, with our busy schedules as residents, your father and I were able to get married and start a family. If not, you and your brother wouldn’t even be here.” She let out a small laugh.

“I know. But oppa already made you a grandma with Jisung (nephew), with another on the way. There’s no rush for me.” You shrugged.

“It’ll still be nice.”

“I’m gonna rest in my room for a little bit.” You dried your hands and headed up to your room. Conversations like these with your parents were just suffocating and tiresome.

“I need to get out of this.” You changed out of your dress and slipped on some shorts with an oversized hoodie.

BEEP BEEP

‘Jimin said you’re having the time of your life. - Hoseok’

‘Yes, I am. And are you supposed to be texting me when I’m off duty? A little unprofessional, don’t you think, Mr Jung? - (y/n)’

‘If you can do wellness checks on us, I can do it on you too. But if you need saving with a ‘medical emergency’ to come back to the house, I’m sure I can injure someone for you. Maybe Jungkook or Jimin can take the bullet. I’ll make sure it’s not fatal. - Hoseok’

‘It’s just visiting my parents. I think I can handle it. But I’m oddly touched that you’re willing to do that for me. Someone kissing a*s here? - (y/n)’

‘With you? NEVERRRRRRR. - Hoseok’

“(y/n)? I wanted to show you your dress that I picked out for you.” Your mother was at your door. Leaving your phone on your bed, you went over and opened the door for her.

“Look.” She unzipped the cloth covering and revealed the dark blue dress that she picked out for you. It was off shoulder with a flowy skirt.

“It’s nice.” You forced a smile.

“I knew you would like it.” She grinned, patting your head. Going to your closet, she hung it up, digging through whatever shoes you had left behind to match the dress. She placed the shoes at the bottom of the dress.

“I trust that you can do your hair and make up on your own?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” You shrugged.

“Tonight, it’s a gala event to celebrate the approval of a new health campus to be opened. Governors, sponsors and potential candidates for the board of directors will be attending. It’s a rather big event. A lot of big names will be there so naturally, a lot of press ” Your mother informed. You nodded your head, wondering if you would see 7 familiar faces there as well.

“Your father is a potential candidate for the new psychiatric unit head.” She continued.

“I’m sure he would love for you to be under him. He can definitely get you a good position under his team. Or you could be under my team when I make the move over.” She looked at you.

“Wait, both of you are moving over to this new health campus?” You asked, completely ignoring her persuading you to work under them.

“That’s the plan.” She shrugged.

“But you’ve been with Korea University Hospital for like... ever. And dad’s already in the board of directors for Seoul Institute of Mental Health.” You frowned slightly.

“Well, when a better opportunity comes up, means it’s time to move on.” Your mother place her hand over yours.

You had done your hair, neatly braiding it and pinning it up. Sitting in front of your vanity, you did some light make up on your face, finishing off with some shimmering lip gloss.

“Time to change.” You went to your closet and fished the blue dress out fo the cloth covering. You slipped it on, smoothing down the skirt with your hands and staring at your reflection to make sure that nothing was out of place. Your parents would want everything to be pristine for a good impression.

“(y/n)! Are you ready?” Your mother called.

“Coming!” Picking up your shoes in your hands, you carried your small bag and headed downstairs.

“I knew it was a good pick.” Your mother clasped her hands together with sparkling eyes as she saw you approaching. Even your father nodded in approval at your appearance.

“Thanks.” You murmured.

“Let’s go.” Your father held his arm out to your mother, who hooked arms with him, and walked out. You simply walked behind them silently. A limousine was ready on the drive way with a driver standing there, opening the door for the three of you to enter. You sat opposite your parents, your hands resting in your lap. Your fingers fiddled with your bracelet.

“Sir, madam, agashi.” The car came to a stop. Through the tinted window, you saw a row of reporters ready at the entrance of the building. You took a deep breath as the chauffeur opened the door.

“We’ll answer a few questions then head in. Just smile and answer things briefly.” Your father said to you. You nodded and stepped out.

“Mr (y/l/n)!” Reporters called out.

“Is it true that you’re a potential candidate for the new health campus’ psychiatric department?” You stood by the side, a small smile as your father answered questions.

“Right this way.” The security cut off the questions after a few minutes. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go say hi.” Your mother didn’t let you out of her sight, dragging you to meet old men that possibly decided her and your father’s future job positions. All you could do was smile and shake their hands.

“(y/n), you remember Jaewon?” Your mother smiled, bringing forth a young man in a suit to you. You internally rolled your eyes, here we go. Every event you went to seemed to be a matchmaking opportunity for your mother. She would be very delighted to wed you off.

“Jaewon?” You tilted your head.

“He was in my cardio-thoracic team but went to the States 5 years ago for a partnership.” She reminded.

“Ah, yes.” You smiled and shook his hand. You’ve seen him a few times. Your mother had even invited him over for a couple of meals when youw ere still living with her.

“How are you, (y/n)? You look amazing.” He complimented.

“I’m doing good, thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself. I’m glad you still speak Korean fluently.” You raised your eyebrows.

“(y/n)!” Your mother sent you a disapproving look while Jaewon blinked but laughed, nodding his head. Soon, you saw your mother abandoning you to join your father, leaving you to converse with Jaewon.

“Where are you working now?”

“Private.” You said, taking a glass of champagne and sipping it. Jaewon nodded his head.

“Right, you worked with private clients right? As like their in-house, family physician. I know your mother told me that you weren’t comfortable working in a public place. So you turned down a lot of good job opportunities at prestigious hospitals.” Jaewon sipped from his own glass. You frowned slightly, what exactly was he hinting at?

“What you hear from my mother is what she thinks she knows about my job. Anything to try and convince someone to persuade me to work under them.” You chuckled.

“That’s not-”

“Sorry, may I interrupt?” A new voice came. There was whispers and murmurs around you. That voice was all too familiar.

“I was wondering if I was going to see you here.” You smirked, turning around to face 7, all too familiar, men. Jimin winked at you while Hoseok flashed his blinding smile. Jaewon looked confused.

“Of course we would be here. Sponsors are the main invited guests, you know?” Yoongi spoke first.

“You know them, (y/n)?” Jaewon asked.

“Know them? I live with them. Unfortunately.” You rolled your eyes. Jaewon’s eyes widened at your statement. Jungkook placed his arm around your waist, staring Jaewon down.

“I told you about the touching.” You glared at the youngest, elbowing his ribs. Still, he didn’t lose his composure and just calmly moved away.

“Well, bye!” Namjoon gave a friendly smile before pulling you away. You gave Jaewon a backwards wave, following the boys to another side of the room. Once you were away from most of the crowd, you let out a sigh of relief, shaking your head while the boys just gave you amused smiles.

“When you said you had friday night plans, we didn’t expect to see you here, doc.” Jin smiled.

“Let’s just say, I didn’t come here willingly.” You snorted.

“Are your parents sponsors?” Taehyung asked.

“No, they aren’t. They’re supposedly part of the new health campus’ head department team so they’re here to butter people up.” You crossed your arms. The boys weren’t surprised by how honest you were.

“But you look nice.” Jimin smiled.

“Stop or I will stab your eye. Also, how’s the shoulder Yoongo?” You changed the subject. Yoongi shrugged his good shoulder and you nodded your head with a small smile.

“(y/n).” Someone called.

“Dad.” You turned to see your father. He raised an eyebrow and you sighed, walking over to him.

“I didn’t know you were friends with our sponsors? They’re one of the new campus’ biggest sponsors, you know? Young entrepreneurs with big names.” Your father said. You shrugged.

“I don’t know if I would call them friends. But they’re the clients I’m working with now. Honestly, didn’t even know that they were coming or that they were sponsors.” You blinked at him. Your father nodded, turning on his business smile before walking over to the 7 young men. They all shook hands with your father, exchanging formalities.

“I had no idea my daughter was working for the family.” He laughed.

“Yes, she’s one of our best employees. It’s a pleasure having her work with us.” Namjoon complimented and you mentally scoffed.

“She could use that talent in a hospital but refuses, sadly.” Your dad joked and you rolled your eyes.

“Shall we get some food?” Jungkook offered. You nodded and headed over to the buffet table with him and Taehyung, leaving your dad to talk to Namjoon and the others.

“This is boring.” Taehyung complained.

“You would think that with how many events you guys have been to, that you’re used to all this. I haven’t been to many and I am.” You shrugged, picking up a piece of cheese and putting it into your mouth. Taehyung and Jungkook laughed, they knew you hated being here from the moment they saw you.

“Shall we get out of here?” Jungkook wriggled his eyebrows.

“I would actually like to live another day so count me out. I’m here only for my parents and I plan to see to that until the end of the night.” You stated. Taehyung handed you a glass of wine.

“(y/n), I was looking for you.” Your mother came. You placed the glass down, stepping away from Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What’s wrong, omma?”

“You... know them?” She cast a brief glance to the two young men behind you, who had now been surrounded by other young girls that wanted at least half of the attention they gave you.

“My current clients.” You shrugged.

“I see... Only clients?”

“Yes, omma. You know I don’t mix business with personal relations. Everything is strictly professional.” You assured her. She nodded her head. You couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed by what you said.

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agathasangel · 3 years

Text

leave everything behind but me- part 4 (diane sherman x reader) (NSFW moment)

warnings: same as before, stalking (like full on irl stalking as well as online), drugging, some talk of emotional/physical abuse in this one, death mention. this whole fic is just kinda dark... sorry. Also brief nsfw moment.

summary: this part is from Diane’s perspective. as she looks for her neurotoxin ingredients in a panic, she reflects on how she came into contact with you in the first place, and all the highs and lows of your relationship up to this point.

where the hell are they? thought Diane, looking for the last, most important ingredient in her neurotoxin.

She couldn’t believe it had come to this again. Just like with Chloe.

Diane wondered where Chloe was, what she was doing. About five years ago, with an excellent defense lawyer, she managed to get out of jail for what she had done. She looked far and wide for her stolen daughter, who seemed to be nowhere to be found. She still worried about what became of Chloe, but knew she was probably doing alright. And one day, Diane found a new obsession by the name of (y/n).

It was nearly two years ago now. Diane was beginning to give up on finding Chloe, after three full years of searching anywhere and everywhere with no luck. But she did find something else.

She was staying at a hotel in California, near the hospital where she gave birth to Chloe, in the vain hope that maybe, just maybe, Chloe would be around.

Diane didn’t find Chloe, but she found something else from her past. Her college reunion was being held in the exact hotel she was staying at. She didn’t plan on attending, but then she came face-to-face with her college rival. This woman was the only person who did better in her classes than Diane. Not only that, but she had multitudes of friends, boyfriends, you name it, while Diane had no one. The woman never let Diane forget how much better she was either. It wasn’t the worst thing Diane had ever been through, not by a long shot, but it was a disappointment for sure. College was supposed to be the place where Diane could finally feel like she belonged, and she always resented this rival of hers.

“Diane! We didn’t think you were coming! Oh here, have a seat!” said the woman.

“I’m so sorry about Roger. It was such a shock to hear about.”, she continued, reminding Diane of her dead husband

“Yeah, I still can’t say I’m over it, all these years later.”

“Yeah when the love of your life just drops dead like that, you never get over it, do you?”, she said, far louder than Diane would have liked.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Of course, I’m so sorry, Diane, I know it must be so hard for you!”

“Yeah. Um... what’s your family like?”

“Well we have one daughter. Her name is (y/n), and she’s a senior in High School,” said the woman. She then leaned into Diane and said, “But can I be honest? I never exactly wanted kids. Never liked them. I thought it would change when I had her but it didn’t. She’s so... difficult.”

Diane’s blood absolutely boiled hearing this, but she managed to keep a polite face, “But that’s your child. Don’t you love her?”

“There are some good things about her, I guess. I do love her in my own way, but I can’t help but feel disappointed. She’s just not what I thought she’d be. I’m sorry, I thought you may understand. I never get to vent my frustrations about her.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t understand. But, do you, um, by any chance have a picture of her?”

“On my phone, somewhere. Let me look.”

After a while, she found a picture of (y/n). It was fairly recent photo of you at a restaurant, at what looked like a dinner with the whole family. You looked sad and lost, but Diane thought you looked sweet.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” said the woman, almost stifling a laugh, as if there was no way Diane could have meant that.

“I’m sorry, I need to go to the bathroom.” said Diane, as she was starting to turn red in anger and the woman.

“I’ll join you, I need to freshen up a bit.”

“Fine.”

So Diane walked straight into a stall while the other woman followed. Diane started to cry, so angry at this awful woman. She had a child, a beautiful, sweet, girl who was alive, for God’s sake. Diane would kill for what she has, in fact she had killed for it before. But this woman didn’t care about her child, she didn’t appreciate you one bit.

She didn’t deserve you.

Then she heard the woman get into the stall next to her and she decided to leave. But the woman left her purse on the sink. Diane looked into her purse and found everything. All her information was in her wallet, and she took pictures of her address, phone number, and credit card numbers, as well as a couple of photos of you and your father. Diane quickly threw the last photo back into her purse as she heard her enemy get up, and she ran away, all the way back up to her room.

Diane looked at the photos, and started to look for your social media. You didn’t seem to post very often, or have many friends. Most of your photos were of you by yourself, or pretty things you took pictures of, and even a couple of sad poems you wrote. Poetry written by teenagers was usually laughably bad, but hers made Diane cry. She saw herself in you.

Poor little thing, Diane thought. She needs some love. But I can do that for her.

Diane spent about a month following you and your parents around, without any of you even noticing her presence. One day she snuck into their house and bugged it, so that there were feeds of different rooms streaming to her computer at all times.

Diane noticed you spent most of your time alone. You wrote in a journal a lot, and cried fairly often, hugging a teddy bear you had. You just seemed so burnt out from stress from school, stress from your job, pressure from your parents. You fought with both of her parents often. Well... fight wasn’t the right word. Usually, one parent would yell at you and insult you, and you would choose to either take it or not take it.

There was one particular instance where you snapped at your father, telling him how he abandoned you so many times. He didn’t take this well, screaming all kinds of insults. How Diane wished she could hold you, rock you, comfort you and tell you that aren’t any of the terrible things your father told you, and that she’s sorry that you never felt good enough.

Diane snuck into (y/n)’s graduation, too. She knew she couldn’t contact you yet, but she got so much happiness out of just seeing this milestone of your life. All you did was walk across the stage and take your diploma, but Diane beamed with pride for you as you did it.

After graduation, your parents were constantly threatening to kick you out, and the fights got worse, they crying got worse. Diane wished she was there, comforting you, holding you and giving you all the love that your parents didn’t. Diane looked for a window of opportunity into this girl’s life until she found the perfect one. You had put out an ad on facebook for anyone on the east coast looking for a roommate, and Diane put her plan into action. She made a fake account on facebook pretending to be a college girl named “Anna Johnson” and responded to the ad, starting to talk to and getting friendly with you. “Anna” suggested that you take a bus trip and offered to pay the fare, but you refused because you wanted to earn the money yourself. Diane’s heart warmed at your sweet messages, even though they were to “Anna” and not her. “I’ve never had as good a friend as you before”, “Who needs a mom when I have you giving me such great advice?”, “You’re the best!”, every little message that you sent to Diane made her fall more and more in love. Diane bought a little house on the East Coast with the money she got from selling her old house, and hoped everything will fall into place in her new life with (y/n).

Now during the bus trip, Diane needed to follow you closely in her silver minivan, and make sure not to lose track of you during layovers either. Her detour into the coffee shop scared her at first, but once Diane found you, it was the perfect opportunity to finally, after all these months of dreaming, meet you face-to-face. Her new little baby girl, finally. Diane slipped a powdered sleeping pill into her already tired girl’s coffee to make you even more sleepy and suggestible, getting you to come with her to her hotel room.

Back in the present, Diane found the rest of the powdered sleeping pills as she was searching through her medicine cabinet and closet. She got so distracted thinking about you, and all the horribly wrong things she had done to you.

It’s for her own good, all of it. She needs to be protected, she’s too pure for this world, to good, too sweet...

Diane searched through the drugs she had given you, thinking of all the best times the two of you have had.

The first day Diane had been with you in the little house was heaven on earth. Finally Diane had everything she’s been working for for almost a year now right there, in her arms. Diane wanted to give you everything you didn’t believe you deserved. The only catch was that you belonged to Diane, and Diane alone.

She got a job teaching Chemistry at the local High School fairly easily, as she had extensive knowledge (even more extensive than she may have let on in her interview), of the subject, and the school district was completely desperate for competent science teachers. Diane found faking the background check easy, she used her maiden name and an incorrect date of birth and they didn’t ask her about her arrest at all. And now she had her new life set up. A house that she owned, a job to put food on the table, and you.

The next best day for Diane was the day you finally kissed her. Diane was starting to fall in love with you in a more romantic, even a more sexual way, but didn’t know if you felt the same way about her. Then, during one of your movie nights, you kissed Diane, and she felt overjoyed. She kissed you back and finally led you to the bed and fucked you, like she had been thinking about doing every night at this point but was too scared to actually initiate until now. She was in love with the feeling she got from kissing you, from pleasing you. It had been so long since Diane had been this intimate with anyone, and she was your first. And it was a real awakening for the both of you.

It felt so good, you felt so good. This relationship you had was so incredibly wrong in so many ways, but it just felt so right.

Why did it have to change?

Of course, there were still some hard moments. Even Diane admitted that there were times when she could be irrationally possessive of you, getting angry when someone even looks at you the wrong way. She knew that her possessive, obsessive attitude could scare you, and you would even blame yourself for it, but she didn’t know how to stop. She knew that you were getting scared she would become more difficult to please, like all the other people that have been in your life.

Or the times that you would cry, and it happened so often. You would get sad and Diane would hold you and tell you:

“It’s ok baby, you’re here now, you’re with me. I love you more than life itself. You’re gonna be okay, my little angel.”

One night Diane woke up to you crying into your pillow, and immediately grabbed you.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

“I- I was afraid that you might- that- one day- you might not want me anymore... what would happen if you d-don’t want me....”

“Listen, I will never not want you. You are all I have, remember? And you’re all I need. Come here, that’s right. You’re my baby, all mine.. shhh....”

Or, there was the time you asked about the scars on Diane’s back. She was mortified, but finally told you about her terrible childhood. The horrible abuse from her mother until her death, the foster home, everything. Her desperation to become the mother she never had. You hugged her tight.

“I’m so sorry, Diane, I had no idea... and to think I complained about-”

“Baby, don’t compare your life to mine. All that matters now is that it’s you and me, and I need to take care of you.”

“Sometimes I think I should be the one taking care of you, Diane.”

“Trust me baby, you do so much more for me than you think.”

Then Diane found it. The rest of the paint thinner. And she was ready to take away all your sadness once and for all, and make you hers forever.

#my fics #sarah paulson x reader #diane sherman x reader #diane sherman #sarah paulson #sarah paulson fics

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stxrrywildflower · 4 years

Text

intern

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - you intern for garcia at the bau

warnings - mentions of case

word count - ?

note - takes place during season 7 around 2011

you knew penelope from the minute you were born.

both of your parents were extremely close, living just a few short blocks away in san francisco. penelope was only 17 when you were born, you instantly becoming her new favorite person. her mom was even named as your godmother.

when penelope’s parents had died, yours had looked after her even though she did go underground as a hacker. despite how much penelope had changed, she was always there to check up on you and your parents.

and then she had gotten caught by the fbi of all people.

you were far to young to even comprehend what was happening. all you could remember was penelope hugging you tightly before she left. the two of you kept in contact by letters ever since that day.

now 17, you were an expert with computers. penelope was your guide, helping you learn to hack everything and anything as well as your way with all technology.

adding on to that, you were incredibly smart, taking all advanced placement courses at school. one of your classes was an internship, you had to find a local company to spend a certain number of hours a week in order to earn credit.

when penelope hears the news, mostly since she had access to your course schedule, she pulled a couple strings.

before you knew it, you were booked to have an internship with the behavioral analysis unit in washington d.c. under penelope garcia. aaron hotchner would be your ‘boss’ as he was the unit chief.

your parents were incredibly supportive, working out the details for you to stay with penelope for the semester and possibly part of the summer.

with multiple bags packed and a plane ticket booked, you were set to leave for washington d.c. in just a few short days.

____

arriving at quantico, you were more than nervous.

a car was arranged to pick you up from the airport, an agent named anderson picked you up to bring you to the bau. from there, you would be able to see penelope, meet with hotch, and get your proper paperwork and badge.

you could tell from the second you stepped in that your presence was out of place. a teenager was rarely in the bau, nonetheless one few people could connect to someone on the team.

“alright this is the floor you will be working on. garcia’s office is down the hall but through those doors over there is what we call the bullpen. that’s where the main teams desks are as well as where they do briefings,” anderson spoke, giving you a mini-tour.

“and the staring?” you asked. “that will stop soon. once they see you with agent hotchner they’ll back off. as much as i want to defend your case, i can’t say i wouldn’t act the same. this is the first teenager working at the fbi ever,” anderson informed you. “oh wow, didn’t know i was making history.”

“yeah you are, and I'm sure-” he was cut off.

“penny!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to hug the tech analyst, your luggage remaining behind you.

anderson smiled to himself, waving towards garcia before heading back to work.

“i’ve missed you so much sweetie,” penelope grinned, matching your enthusiasm. you hugged her for a little longer, overjoyed to see her after months.

morgan was next in the hallway, hugging you once penelope let go. “hey kid, how are you? school okay?” he questioned, ruffling your hair. “everything’s good derek, i’m just stoked to be here,” you grinned.

the rest of the team, to say the least, was extremely confused. there were a ton of questions running through their heads as the scene played out.

“maybe it’s morgan and garcia’s secret love child,” emily snickered, spencer and j.j. laughing too.

“i can take your bags down to my lair and we can bring them to my place after work,” penelope offered. “and i can take you in to meet hotch,” morgan piped in.

you kept your backpack with you, the three of you splitting up. morgan stayed by your side, guiding you into the bullpen.

the two of you couldn’t have been in the main roof for more than a few minutes before who you assumed was hotch was down to greet you.

“welcome y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to finally meet you,” hotch greeted, extending his hand for you to shake. you took it, nodding with a “nice to meet you too sir.”

“please, call me hotch. we can talk up in my office,” with one final smile towards morgan, you were following the into chief up for your meeting.

“so how do you know garcia?” hotch first asked.

“she’s pretty much my godmother, her mom was my official one before she passed. our parents were friends so i’ve known her for most of my life,” you explained, a smile on your face. “she taught me to hack when i was only 10.”

hotch nodded, “and you’re seventeen, correct? have you committed to any colleges?”

you shook your head no. “not yet sir. i’ve been accepted to a few but haven’t made any final decision. pennelope is pushing me to go to school around here though.”

“i’m sure wherever you go will be a good fit. but now, we have to get into some of the more official stuff. how are you managing school with this inteenship?”

“my teachers moved all of my classes online with virtual lessons and work. penelope and i have already worked out a schedule so i can focus on my work here and do schoolwork at night,” you explained.

hotch was obviously satisfied with his answer so he continued, “now with your internship, we don’t expect you to work cases with us right away. it is mostly just learning under garcia. once you feel comfortable enough and get a recommendation, you can move up.”

you nodded along, taking in the information about your job. “i can take you down to get your badge and then you can meet the team,” hotch offered. “sounds perfect.”

photos and paperwork didn’t take more than twenty minutes. you were back up, a crisp new badge clipped on your jacket, soon enough.

“my team,” hotch called. “conference room.”

with his usual ‘unit chief’ tone, no one bother to argue with him. adding on to your interaction with three out of seven members, changes were obviously happening.

you were seated on top of one of the file cabinets, morgan beside you and penelope next to him. your conversation died down once more people entered the room.

both you and morgan quickly got down, wanting to look at least a little bit professional.

“everyone, i would like you to meet our newest team member, y/n y/l/n. she’ll be interning under penelope and helping out on cases,” hotch inteoduced.

you waved to everyone, a slight smile forming on your face. “from left to right is reid, prentiss, rossi, and j.j. and your already know garcia and morgan,” hotch pointed out each individual member.

“wait i’m not following. you know morgan and garcia?” rossi asked.

“my parents knew penelope’s for a long time. i grew up with penelope pretty much as an older sister. and i know morgan since he’s visited home a few times,” you explained.

the team was already eager to get to know you, having a fresh face around, nonetheless one that was only 17, would definitely be nice. so, for your first day, you were pestered with questions. you already fit well with the team, a new member being added to their little family without problem.

____

your first week was pretty much just learning the basics of how the computers in garcia’s lair actually operated. you had your own little station in one of the corners, a few computers and monitors set up for you to work with.

two weeks in, you had your first real assignment.

it wasn’t by choice, you were supposed to start working with the gory stuff in two weeks, or a month of working there.

you absolutely loved the job with the team. oftentimes, you found yourself hanging out with either emily or j.j. for dinner and time with sergio and or henry. you went on morning runs with morgan, the two of you constantly sending each other new routes to run on. spencer helped you with your homework, planning a schedule for the idea work time like it was no issue. if you ever had a problem with school, he would always help you figure it out.

rossi found a new sense of joy in teaching you to cook. you grew up in san francisco, eating a lot of sea food and not much else. rossi changed that, making you various pasta dishes to try as well as the recipient. and hotch, hotch became an overall mentor and pretty much another dad to you. while spencer helped you with work, hotch would keep you in line with everything.

the latest case was pretty intensive on you and penelope. you did as much work as you could, you still weren’t officially clear to handle crime scene information just yet.

the one time penelope was out of her office getting coffee for the two of you, her office phone had started ringing. you quickly pushed away from your desk, your chair rolling across the floor until you were in front of hers.

“office of the most talented and magical members of the bau here. how may i help you?” you greeted. “man garcia is really rubbing off on you,” you chose to ignore that comment.

“speaking of garcia, where is she?”

you sighed, “getting coffee. what do you need?” hotch was quick to answer, “i need you too look up an unsub. name is roger clark.”

in lightning speed, you clicked away at the computer as you dug up information on the man.

“ah here his is. clark rogers was born to a frank and mary rogers. was a normal child, played sports and graduated with honors. did have a case of aggravated assault in college though he got off free since his dad was a lawyer. oh shoot, his mom died a few weeks ago,” you quickly explained.

something about a possible trigger as barely audible in the background of the call. “we need a location asap,” emily spoke.

“oh i’ve has the location sent from the minute you called,” you leaned back in your chair, most of your work already done.

hotch actually had one of his rare smiles on his face after that. “thanks so much,” he spoke. “stay safe,” you called before hanging up the call.

little did you know, your work was more than helpful. though it was minimal, small details you had provided actually proved to be useful in taking down the unsub. even penelope, who heard news of everything once she returned, was thoroughly impressed. it wasn’t super easy finding out that information as fast as you could.

all you knew is that you were guaranteed a job once you graduated.

☆ ☆ ☆

tags - @tinylumpiaa @sapphicspence @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @change-the-world-someday @ah-blossom @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @spenceneedsahug @jjandreidsgirl @zoseph @spencerreidxoxo @marvelxmendes @kissessfordraco @ogmilkis @cm-is-kinda-cool @ssa-morgan @matthewgublerswife @spencerslatte @babyangellee @agentshortstacc

#criminal #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #luke alvez #matt simmons #tara lewis #bau team #bau team x teen reader

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purpletaecup · 4 years

Photo

6 ☾ these echoes of laughter fade into a distant memory

note: fully written chapter again this time, with social media half chapters coming later this week! this chapter is mainly Yoongi and we see a little bit of his side and how he felt in the past and how he feels in the present. not edited, wanted to post this before the concert so we can all cry together!

rlly important note: i suggest you guys listen to nineteen by hayley williams because i basically base this whole story off that song (and some chinese webnovels i read lmfao). It’s one of my favorite songs ever and it hurts a whole lot. I wish i could experience how I felt when I listened to it for the first time again. As always, feel free to vent/rant and tell me your theories about how the story is going to go! let’s cry together :’)

final note: IM SORRYYY FOR THISSSS don’t hate me pleaseee

word count: 2,523

That night, Yoongi slept in your hospital room. The emotional weight of everything that had happened had kept him nailed to the chair beside your bed. The smell of the air after the rain permeated into the room and reminded him of the day that his lawyer delivered the divorce papers to you, who was alone at home and probably waiting for him. Looking back at it, maybe it was an impulse decision that he made due to the frustration and exhaustion that your marriage caused him. He grew weary and waking up in the morning felt like a chore. You were distant, he was distant and both of you were living lives going in different directions. But you loved each other, and for a while, he thought that could be enough. Evidently, it wasn’t. He doesn’t regret the divorce because in the end, he thought he was doing what was best for the both of you. He knew how tired you were and how you felt being around the people in his life. He felt the same way with the people in yours. Everything about your lives clashed and he thought that divorce was the best solution for both of you to become happy again. He wasn’t getting any younger, but you were still very young and you could still find someone who could love and cherish you better than he could.

He didn’t regret it.

He didn’t.

Or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. He didn’t regret it. He couldn’t regret it. But remembering how you looked when he came home that night breaks his heart to pieces. Your pale and shivering figure crying by the front door and the way your trembling hands shook him off when he tried to help you up. It was a sight that would remain ingrained in his mind and his heart forever. When you two finally made it inside your house to sit on the couch, he fully expected you to shout and scream and throw a tantrum about the divorce papers. He did not expect the quiet sobs that wracked your figure, or the broken “why are you doing this?” and finally the resignation in your voice when you told him you’d sign it. He remembered, at that moment, that he began crying too. He walked over and sat next to you and took you in his arms like you were his whole world even though he knew he had just ruined yours. With his head buried in your damp hair and neck, he whispered a million apologies. Sorry for breaking your heart. Sorry for wasting your time. Sorry for not knowing how to love you properly. Sorry for not trying.

These apologies meant nothing to you. They were nothing compared to the pain you had endured to be with him, to love him. He didn’t know that. For the last months of your relationship, he didn’t know who you were and that’s what pushed him to get the divorce. You were a shell of the woman you were when you two first met. Your smile didn’t make butterflies appear in his stomach anymore and your laugh didn’t make his heart flutter like it used to. It wasn’t the same anymore. You were both different people, changed people.

In the midst of this change, he was introduced to Yura by Jungkook. A model he worked with a couple times and a really nice woman. Beautiful, even. Almost as beautiful as you, he had thought when he first met her. Jungkook pushed and pushed for him to hang out with them and the rest of the guys and the more he saw Yura, the more he talked to her, the more he began to like her. She reminded him of you when he first met you.

You were 19 and he was 23 and you were modeling at the same set he was supposed to shoot at an hour later. He came early to help the staff prepare for his music video shoot and hopefully talk to the director but he had ended up watching your shoot for most of the time until it was his turn for the set. The people around you liked to say that Yoongi fell in love with you at first sight. He often refuted that it wasn’t at first sight because he wasn’t the type of person to fall in love because of how someone looks. In private, he told you that he fell in love with you at first smile, first laugh. The sight of you laughing genuinely in the middle of hydrangeas and baby’s-breath enchanted him so much that he remained rooted to the floor for the remainder of your shoot.

The laughs and the smiles were Yoongi’s favorite. You were the most beautiful person he’d ever met. You are still the most beautiful he’d ever met, but perhaps it was the exhaustion of life that wore the both of you down. What had started as a beautiful, youthful romance filled with picnics in meadows had ended with divorce papers on a rainy day in September.

These are the thoughts that followed Yoongi to sleep that night.

☾

[nov. 10, 2020]

The same thoughts haunted him day in and day out ever since he left that next morning at the insistence of Jungkook and Taehyung. He spent 4 days on his own, working and living his life but only on the surface. Conservations with people, including his friends, remained minimal. He couldn’t stop thinking about your broken and bruised body laying in the hospital bed, and he was anxious for the news of you waking up but none had come. He received no calls from the hospital since he left, and Taehyung said that visiting was meaningless unless the doctor told him new information.

Yura told him, verbatim, “I understand that you’re worried about her safety, but the doctors said she would be fine. She’s your ex-wife, I get it, but she’s not your responsibility anymore.”

In a way, she was right. But he couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought of leaving you all alone there. He knew it was hard for Jin to come out because he was incredibly busy with work, and when he wasn’t traveling for his job, he lived too far from both of you to ever accompany you in the way that you needed. In addition to that, he had no idea what happened to you and your mom. The last he heard, which was when you were still married, you were on speaking terms with her and there wasn’t a problem between the two of you. At least not that he knew of. Namjoon was on a book tour and Jimin was constantly booked due to his dance career. In any case, you had no one here. Yoongi was all you had and that was evident in your unchanged emergency contact list.

After Yura had said that, he felt uneasy being around her so he told her that he truthfully couldn’t stand to just move on with his life while you were practically lifeless in the hospital, and if that was a problem with her then maybe they should just take a break from each other. He kept telling himself that he really liked Yura and he wanted what she could give him, but he couldn’t ignore the four years that you two spent building a life together. Especially not now that you were pregnant, a fact that he had kept hidden from Yura.

When he thought about the pregnancy, everything else seemed to melt away. Despite the circumstances, the news of your pregnancy made him happy. Extremely so, albeit a little scared as well. He wondered how long you had known, and if you were happy or scared.Or what if you didn’t know at all? As far as he could tell, you weren’t showing. There was no sign of a bump on your little belly, but the doctor’s words were irrefutable. There was a baby growing in there. A baby that was half you and half him and that thought of that made him smile like he hadn’t in a long, long time.

That night, he dreamt about a little girl with your eyes and your smile and a nose that resembled his. A laughter that reminded him of yours echoed in those dreams.

☾

[nov. 11, 2020]

Pleasant dreams faded into a pleasant morning as Yoongi woke up much earlier than he was used to and felt better than he had in ages. He spent some time by himself before his phone was bombarded by phone calls and text messages from the group chat with the boys asking him when he was coming for work.

As he saw the sun take its place in the blue skies and white clouds, he decided that the day was too beautiful to waste on a day in the company. 5 days passed since your accident and he thought it was time to go back to the hospital and see how you were doing. Of course he wasn’t expecting any changes to your condition considering he hasn’t gotten any phone calls from the hospital yet, but he thought it might make him feel more at ease to sit next to you.

On his way to the hospital, he stopped by the flower shop you often went to, the one next to the park with the yellow flowers that you liked so much. The woman at the front, whose name was Yerin by the looks of her nametag, recognizes you immediately.

“Mr. Min Yoongi? How can we help you today?” She asks, immediately standing up straight at your intimidating presence.

“Just here to get some flowers.” He replies nonchalantly.

Yerin runs around the counter to stand in front of him.

“Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“No, not really—wait a second, that flower right there. Give me a bouquet of those.” He says, pointing to the bunches of purple flowers hiding behind Yerin.

She turns to see what he was pointing to. “Ah, purple lilacs. Okay, I’ll put it together for you really quick!”

He saw her go around the many shelves of flowers to what he assumed was the back inventory of the shop and didn’t see her come out until a couple of minutes later. In her hands was a beautiful bouquet of the purple lilacs with white baby's-breath. His eyes softened at the sight of the white flowers. The sight was familiar to him.

“That would be 25,830 won.” Yerin handed the bouquet to him and smiled.

He handed her 35,000 won, murmured his thanks and left. Once out of the shop, he was hit by the bright sunlight and couldn’t help looking over to the park. Kids were running around while their parents watched them on picnic blankets.

Warm and sunny days like this reminded him of you. Spending your days in the sun, laying on a picnic blanket and eating fruits, was your very existence.

He spends only a few moments admiring the scenery of people enjoying the weather before he makes his way back to his car and to the hospital. When he arrives at your room, nothing has changed except for the fact that your skin has regained a bit of its color and the bruises began the healing process.

Yoongi sets the flowers down on the table beside your bed. He moves the chair from the wall to the side of the bed so he could sit right next to you. His heart almost stops when he sees your face. It seems like the nurses changed the bandage on your head as the bandaging was noticeably lighter, but he could still see a bit of blood seeping through. The bruises on your arms and everywhere alarm him but he knows that you’re okay and you’re healing and that’s enough for him. It’s enough to know that you were alive and going to be fine.

His eyes trail down to your stomach and he lets it linger on them for a long time because he takes your hand in his and takes a deep breath. Two months ago he could have never imagined that this is where he would be right now. Two months ago, both of you had walked away from your marriage and Yoongi honestly thought that you two may never have crossed paths again despite his thoughts going to you more often than it should be. Now, two months later, you were divorced and pregnant with his child. His eyes continue to stare at your stomach, still flat and showing no signs of carrying a second life, and he resists the urge to caress it. You weren’t conscious and even if you were, would you allow your ex-husband to feel your stomach like that? No, probably not.

And that’s when he felt a twitch in his hand, not coming from his own. He looks down to see your fingers moving just barely. His first reaction was shock, then anxiety. He didn’t know what to do and the shock of your movement paralyzed him. It was only when he felt another movement, stronger this time, that he felt the need to press the call button to alarm the doctors and nurses. You were moving, which meant that you might be waking up.

The moments pass quickly and slowly at the same time. The doctors barely made it in time to see you flutter your eyes open and groan with a broken voice. Yoongi looked down at you, still holding your hand. You blinked your eyes multiple times. The light was too bright to take in all at once. He squeezed your hand at the relief he felt in seeing you wake up.

“Yn, how are you feeling baby?” He couldn’t help the pet name that came out of his mouth. You looked so vulnerable and fragile that it came out on instinct.

Yoongi waited for a reply for a little bit but heard none. The doctor came around to stand next to you.

“Miss Yn? Can you see us? Hear us?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, wincing at the pain in and on your head.

“Where m’I?” You attempt to speak out, but it comes out broken and croaky.

Yoongi is glad to hear your voice, to hear you talk for the first time in so long.

“You’re in the hospital right now, you were in a car accident but you’re okay now baby. How are you feeling?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You craned your head towards him, blinking furiously with your eyebrows furrowed. Confusion marred your features. Yoongi was scared that you finally realized he was here, with you, and would kick him out at any chance. He was scared that you were going to kick him out of you life before he could ever see the baby that you had made together, but this fear of his could have never prepared him for the next words to come out of your mouth.

“Who are you?”

☾

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taglist batch 1: @victoriedulce @yoongistruth @rebeccawoodrow @moon-asia @koochiekoo @sonderkook @fangirling-gallifreyan @teresaisla @veronawrites @haeilove @rjsmochii @mama-m0chi @agustd-2020 @imluckybitches @dreamer95 @coldfreakeggsexpert @rjsmochii @loveyoongles @selfproducingfanfictionauthor @mr-robot-x

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

One Night🌙6

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series), nocturnal playtime, unwanted touching.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: I’m working on more drabbles and Eye of the Storm! But for now, enjoy some Andy.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your appointment went as well as it could have. The doctor ran bloodwork and several other tests as Andy nodded knowingly as if to say ‘I told you so’, which he also did aloud several times after. The drive home was a reiteration of what you should, and more enthusiastically, what you shouldn’t do.

It was really starting to feel like he believed you were an actual child. Your own father had never talked to you in such a way. You couldn’t say the same for your mother but even she could reel it in long enough that you didn’t feel like a complete moron. Andy just seemed to latch onto every mistake you made and sink his teeth in until he tasted blood.

And like the teenager he treated you as, when you got back to his house, you stormed up to the guest room and slammed the door. You fell onto the bed and screamed into the pillow. Oh yeah, that long lost adolescent rage returned. Then it all drained from every inch of you and you rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

You could hear Andy below. You listened to him moving around, the decisive click of his polished leather shoes. He climbed the stairs and you heard him stop outside your door. He sighed and retreated to his own room. Your day off an you’d spend it like this; raging at your new warden.

The knock on your door made you flinch.

“Hey,” Andy’s voice sounded decisively through the door. “I’m going into the office for the rest of the day. I’ll be in around six.” He paused and the handle jiggled but didn’t turn. “You know where everything is.”

You didn’t answer him. You waited until he left, the footsteps on the staircase, the front door, the soft rollover of his car engine. You sat up and pulled out your phone. A single voicemail; your parents’ number.

“Hey, kiddo,” Your dad’s voice rose from the speaker. “Your mom wants to know when you’re getting the rest of your stuff.” A slight pause and a cough. “You know I don’t care and you take your time but if she asks, I told ya to come get it… Love you.” The line buzzed. “And your mom loves you too but she’s just as stubborn as you, you know? Well, anyway, uh, bye.” Another glaring silence. “Oh, and it’s still my house. I’ll be happy to see ya, kiddo.”

You saved the message and dropped your phone to bounce on the mattress. You put your head in your hands as you tried to resist the overhwelming swell of sadness that overcame you. You didn’t care about your stuff and you couldn’t bring it here. You wouldn’t. Sell it, toss it, you didn’t care.

You sat up and dropped your hands to the bed in defeat. You were such a fuck up.

🌙

You avoided Andy for a few days. You found excuses to stay in your room when you weren’t working and even spent a good deal of time in the backyard, weeding the overgrown garden. It didn’t matter. Autumn was close and most of the plants were dead. It must have been her job, or maybe a cherished hobby.

Aside from Andy’s prickly nature, she made it harder. That stranger; Laurie. You were an imposter in her place; usurping her as she laid in a hospital entirely unaware. You only knew what the press put out. He never said much about it. Did you really expect him to? All he ever spoke about was you, the baby, and everything you did wrong.

After a rather long day at work, made longer by your suddenly returned appetite and the smell of cinnamon and coffee, you returned to the house and found yourself back in the yard. You sat at the patio table and scrolled through your phone.

Felicia wanted to meet up the next night. You hadn’t told her yet. If she took you for drinks, as she always did, she’d figure it out pretty quickly. Well, why were you hiding it? You wouldn’t be able to for much longer. You already felt a little bigger, wider at least. Would it be so bad to tell? To not be alone?

You swiped away her text and bit your thumbnail. You’d think about it and send your answer before you went to bed.

The screen door clattered and you sat up straight. You looked up as Andy emerged and strode across the deck. He had a beer in hand and placed it on the glass table as he neared the other side of the table. His tie was gone, his top button undone, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows.

“Here you are,” He said as he pulled out a chair and sat. “How was work?”

You shrugged and turned over your phone. “It was work,” You sat back and crossed your arms. “Do I ask you? Is that the right thing to do?”

He chuckled and popped the cap of the beer and took a swig. “Well, it was an exciting day. Had a defendant attack the judge. Didn’t get very close but a they took him out,” He turned the bottle on the table. “He got me good on his way out, even if he missed my face.”

You let your arms fall to rest over your stomach. You didn’t know what to say. Did he want pity? Surely you couldn’t relate to his courthouse crusades.

“Well, that sounds… scary.” You offered.

“It happens. Not a lot but you can never predict people,” He took another gulp of beer. “What are you doing out here? It’s gonna rain soon.”

“Yeah?” You looked up at the grey clouds. “I never minded the rain much.”

He was quiet as he picked at the label of his bottle. His toe tapped and he pushed his shoulders back.

“Your mother came to see me,” He said gently. “Said something about tossing your stuff out on the lawn.”

“Shit,” You winced. “She shouldn’t have--”

“You haven’t talked to her?”

“And say what, exactly? She made her feelings about me pretty clear.” You played with the case of your phone as you turned it over. “My dad called me but… I don’t care about all that shit.”

“We can go get it. It’s not--”

You laughed and shook your head. “Why? You’re so eager to erase my former life, why would you care?” You threw your hand up and planted your elbow on the table. “It’s just books. A few stuffed animals. I never really could afford much of value. The poor pauper girl.”

“I never--”

You stood and slid your phone into your pocket. You still wore the plain black shirt and matching pants from work. Your fly was half undone to relieved the pressure and your shirt had caught in your waistband. You pulled the hem down and pushed in your chair.

“I’m hungry. I’m going to get changed and make something to eat.” You said.

You left him there and went inside. After slipping into some leggings and a loose tee, you swept into the kitchen and surveyed your options. Some linguine with chicken and spinach. That didn’t sound too bad.

You pulled out a chicken breast and the cutting board. You put the water on boil and heated the frying pan. You started to chop up the chicken into chunks as you heard the back door. Andy appeared and set his bottle down across from you as he stood on the other side of the island. It gave a hollow clink; empty, already.

“So, what are you making?” He leaned on the marble.

“Pasta,” You answered curtly. “You have any hot peppers? Hot sauce?” You opened the fridge. “I wouldn’t mind something spicy.”

“Check the door,” He said. “You must be past the nausea. You know, I always heard the cravings were the worst part. I never really considered pickles anything to drool over but---”

“Stop, please,” You interjected as you turned back with a jar of banana peppers. You could dice them up and mix them into the sauce. “It’s miserable. All of it.”

He sighed and stood straight. He rounded the counter and opened the cupboard. He added oil to the pan and it crackled. He put it back and turned to grab the spinach and rinsed it in the colander. He set it on the counter and turned back to watch you slice the chicken.

“You gonna keep this up?” He asked.

“What?” You set the knife down and dumped the chicken into the pan and washed your hands..

“You gotta try to meet me halfway,” He turned.

“Meet you halfway? Andy, christ,” You spat as you stirred the chicken and seared it. “How much more can I give you?”

“Bit of courtesy, maybe,” He said. “I’m trying here but you won’t even--”

“There you go again, speaking to me like a child. I am not a child. Let’s start there,” You pointed at him with the spatula. “You should know that.”

He considered you, his blue eyes drifted then returned to you. He gave a small smile. “I definitely know you’re not a child.”

“I’m serious.”

He nodded and exhaled. “Alright, I’ll try to ease off.”

You squinted at him. “I really wanna believe you will.”

He scoffed and brushed past you. He went to the fridge and grabbed another beer. He flipped the cap off and leaned against the door.

“I’m a lawyer. I can’t help it.” He shrugged. “But for the sake… of the baby, I’ll take my foot off the pedal. A little.”

“Cool,” You set the spatula down. “So you won’t mind if I go out tomorrow night. My friend Felicia wants to have dinner.”

“Dinner?” He repeated. You raised a brow. “Yeah, fine. That sounds like fun.”

“Great,” You smiled and grabbed the linguine noodles. “And you know, you’ll get a night to yourself. Win-win.”

🌙

You texted Felicia after dinner and for the first time in a while, you felt excited about something. So excited you found it hard to settle down. A bigger problem because you had an opening shift the next morning and you were already constantly exhausted.

You laid in bed and tossed and turned. You stared at the ceiling, then rolled over and stared at the window, then tried laying on your stomach until your leg fell asleep. It was at least an hour of endless turmoil, trying to force yourself to doze, before you just resigned to blinking into the dark.

You listened to the gentle spatter of rain. As always, Andy was right. It was really annoying. You sighed and peeked out the window as the rivulets streamed down the glass. The moonlight shone through the droplets in silver orbs. You turned onto your side and counted them, hoping it would coax you to sleep.

Then you heard it. At first, you were certain it was nothing. The wind, maybe. But it continued, steady, slowly mounting. The heavy breaths coated with sultry groans. You froze and craned your head to look over your shoulder as you listened. You’d left your bathroom door open without thinking and could hear a little too much through the one at the other end.

You dropped your head back to the pillow as the voice continued; deep and drawn out. It wasn’t hard to guess what was going on; what the only other person in the house was doing. Andy was only human after all. Well, you’d fucked him almost on sight. You were no saint. Yet it felt so wrong, hearing him like that. Worse that as you closed your eyes, you could only imagine him in the other room with his hand…

You pulled the duvet over your ear and pressed your head to the pillow. You felt a tickle between your thighs and squeezed them together. Ignore it, just listen to the rain. But his voice only got louder and louder until it finally peaked in a sharp grunt. Your lips parted and you shuddered. He was done, thank god.

It was silent for a few minutes, all but the gentle patter of rain. Then the bed groaned through the wall and soft footsteps. You were tense as you listened, moreso as you heard him near the other side of the bathroom door.

Shit, he had to clean himself up and…

The door opened and you heard his feet on the tile. He let out a growled and cranked the sink on. Your door was still wide open. It sounded as if he was right beside you as the water flowed and his breathing evened out. He turned off the faucet but lingered in the bathroom.

Then he stood in the door to your room. You could feel him there, looking at you. You were thankful your back was to him. Slowly, he crept closer and you felt him looming over you, just at the side of your bed. Your nerves were on fire, every hair on your body was on end.

The blanket moved just a little as he tugged at it. You made yourself stay still as he paused, waiting for you to react. He let out a long breath and yanked harder to dislodge the duvet from under you. You squeezed your eyes shut, terrified. You should say something, do something, tell him to fuck off!

He bared your leg and the cool air raised goosebumps along your skin. Your shorts offered little coverage and had ridden up your ass. He let the blanket rest on the other side of your leg and his fingertips grazed your calf and thigh. He touched your ass and pressed more firmly against it.

Then suddenly he recoiled. You heard him swallow and he pulled the blanket back over you. He turned and retreated into the bathroom, your door clicking closed behind him, the second which led into his own room. The silence was pierced by his muffled voice.

“Shit.”

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