kubosai believing that literally anything counts as a date as long as theyre together

aiura: so what were you guys up to yesterday?

s+k: went on a date :)

a: awee whatd you guys do?

k: we made out in the walmart parking lot and built mario legos <33

a: ?? oh

Rough Night

Bucky Barnes x (f)werewolf reader

Summary: Your life is already so weird, thankfully Bucky loves you through it all.

Warning: fluff, reader being a sass master w/ no filter

side note: couldn’t think of any cool avenger powers and then brain went werewolf so here we are

Masterlist

If you had a dollar for every time you’d ended up in the woods with ripped clothes and no shoes, well, let’s just say you could probably afford a real nice two bedroom apartment in some real pleasantly fancy building with a great view and all. Too bad green doesn’t just rain down from the sky every time the full moon comes round to knock you back into another world of blurry confusion.

You won’t lie to yourself, being what you are is strange and not very common in the slightest, obviously. It’s even weirder that you weren’t bitten one night and turned just like that, oh no, all passed down through the bloodline of other strange relatives. So you’re gifted with the curse, forced to inevitably change into a furry beast every single full moon, so what you’re still a mostly pleasant individual.

Well luckily for you, being born with the gift does happen to have its perks which do come in handy. For instance, you’re incredibly strong, quick on your feet, and have heightened senses, plus the ability to shift on command. It’s not all bad, well......most of the time.

Honestly you truly thought life couldn’t get much stranger for you and your whole hidden secretive situation, until low and behold some random red head found your little hideaway in a remote mountain side village far off in the Himalayas.

Everything was completely fine and under control and then BAM, she showed up with some important documents and something called an Avengers initiative and well shit, guess some time spent with the real world couldn’t hurt. I mean come on, some more friends seemed like a nice idea and uh, somehow they knew who you were so too late to run and hide.

Also at the time, considering you lived like a recluse on the edge of the village and of course for good reason, but damn if the red head didn’t just hand you an open invitation for some real adventure. Who were you to say no?

Fortunately for you, all seemed to go in your favor and fantastically enough, they had a nice big strong cell for you on nights when the wolf was inevitably bound to come out. A fridge full of plentiful snacks, a training room to lay off some steam, and a big safe and secure room all your own. It was perfect. Only problem was, there happened to be a very attractive and very wary of you super soldier who undoubtedly caught your attention.

How could you not, he smelled divine, muscles for days, thick thighs that could make a girl swoon, and he just seemed like the best goddamn hugger alive. Okay listen, maybe you were touch starved and deprived of human affection but dammit if your little monster heart didn’t skip a beat every time he was near you.

And yes, the few months it took to get him to crack was just down right torturous. But with some coaxing from Steve and encouragement from Sam, the winter soldier at long last did talk to you. Turned out he thought you were scared of him all along, how hilariously ironic you thought when he told you that.

But as time progressed and you both opened up more and more, a blossoming relationship sprouted forth, eventually evolving and manifesting into a big beautiful flower called love. Cheesy yes, but you couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.

And seriously, he wasn’t freaked out about your whole hidden hush hush secretive gift that usually either goes in your favor or ends up causing you major legal trouble. The man himself, Bucky Barnes, thought you were a marvel to behold, so odd and fantastic that he couldn’t stay away even if he tried.

And for that you could love him forever, especially now after a full moon while you’re out in the middle of nowhere. Hoping that the team will send your hundred year old boyfriend out to find you in the brisk dark morning after a grand unrememberable adventure. Which would be very nice of course, considering you have not a damn clue what you’ve done.....or where you are.

Cracking your back, you stretch your hands up to the dawning sky as a tired yawn escapes you. It’s been a long night and you look like a wild woman with your hear a fluffy nest and your clothes ripped in various unrevealing places thankfully.

Your surroundings are simply trees and small scraggly bushes, green grass underneath your bare feet and a small stream flowing in the near distance. With a second to listen, you can hear a highway a couple miles away to the east, guess that’s a start.

Rubbing your eyes you set out in that direction for about twenty minutes before a blue and gold Mercedes comes into view from the side of a country back road, it stops when you guess the driver spotted you from the tree line. Keeping a wary eye on the fancy sports car, you keep walking towards it until a figure gets out and leans against the passengers side door all cool and casual, then on further inspection you realize the driver is Bucky.

Yes! My knight in shining armor is here!

Trudging through the grassy field in the dewy morning light, he watches your every move, eyes crinkling in amusement as you come to stand a couple feet in front of him. Undoubtedly looking a bit wild, and very tired as you fold your arms underneath each other, giving your dark haired lover a shy almost fangy smile.

“I know I look like a hot mess.” You mutter with a shrug, biting your lip as you dart your eyes to the fields behind him, slightly embarrassed of the current disheveled state you’re in.

Bucky smirks before pushing himself off the car and engulfing you into a big Bucky bear hug to your pleasant surprise, “Y/N I’m just glad you’re okay and nothing bad happened to you.” He mumbles into your shoulder as you press yourself closer to him, letting yourself have this wonderful moment to relax and feel at ease.

Slowly pulling back to look up at him, you smile, “Aww Buck you were worried about me?”

He returns the grin, leaning down to press his head flush against yours, “We all were, me more then anyone else of course...and maybe for the general civilians nearby.”

You laugh nervously, “Oh right, yeah. Well hey, I didn’t destroy anyone's car this time. I think I’ve made progress.”

He pauses for a brief moment indicating he’s not sure if he should tell you something and this does make you nervous before Bucky finally lets out a little laugh, “You ate a whole cow Y/N.”

Snorting in surprise you quickly pull your head from Bucky’s, “What? Did I? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yeah, uh I wish.” He admits with a casual reassuring squeeze to your arm, “We tracked you with Sam’s suit tech, yunno Red Wing, and uh....you seemed to be having fun.”

Mentally and just about physically cringing at yourself, you purse your lips together in slight embarrassment, “Shit. Was it gross?” You ask, making a face that causes him to chuckle.

“A little.” Adds Bucky with another casual shrug to make you feel less terrible.

“Is the farmer going to see everything, I mean shit they’re gonna be so pissed.” You worry, biting your lip anxiously as you break eye contact from him. “Why am I like this.”

“Uh, that’s not going to be a problem.” Inquires Bucky causing you to find his blue eyes once again.

Eying him up suspiciously you raise a brow, “And why’s that.....Bucky what did I do?”

Taking a breath he gives you a small apprehensive smile, “Y/N...you uh, kind of ate......everything.”

“I what?” I did not! No way, right?

Giving you a quick kiss on the cheek he smiles affectionately, “I’m going to be honest with you here it looked like a kid with a piece of cake who has no impulse control, and loves cake....like a lot.....Rodney almost puked.”

Rolling your eyes you fake glare at him, “Oh god who all watched my little horror show?”

“Mostly everyone.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s like a car crash Y/N, we don’t want to watch but we can’t look away. Sorry doll.” He confesses apprehensively, though honest and sincere knowing you do feel bad for what you do when out of it.

“No.” You say honestly, pausing for a moment, “It’s fine. Seriously Buck, I’m just relieved you guys keep taps on me while I’m out, god knows I can’t help what I do and where I go. It’s nice to have people making sure I don’t injure any innocent bystander.”

“Yeah I guess so huh...alright Y/N/N,” Chirps Bucky with a beaming grin as he attempts to shift the mood to a less dull one, “let’s get out of here, I mean unless you want to sniff around the place for awhile...it is a nice forest over there and all but I guess we can stay and I’ll let you...”

“Alright Barnes, can-it or maybe I’ll bite you.” You tease with a playful squeeze of his bicep before breaking out of his strong grasp.

“Depends on the context maybe I’d enjoy it.” Adds Bucky sarcastically, side eying you with a half smile as you move to open the car door.

Shaking your head in playful disapproval you lightly shove him aside, “Believe me you wouldn’t.”

——

The ride back to the Avengers base or headquarters or facility, who the hell knows at this point, was actually quite smooth and peaceful. Then again you fell asleep as soon as Bucky made it onto the highway, and continued to catch a much needed nap for the next hour ride home.

No one ever said you were easy alright, but let’s be real, Bucky would let you put him through anything and he’d be happy about it.

After parking and walking down the sidewalk past some early morning trainees catching a run, the two of you made it into the Avengers official HQ where all your rooms and other luxury’s are located. But of course not before walking past the facilities giant living space and huge kitchen.

Just keep looking forward, keep walking, walk faster you idiot!

“Y/N!” Shouts Sam in that stupidly peppy obnoxious early morning voice of his, no doubt gaining the attentions of Steve and Natasha who are seated at the kitchens bar talking about some mission report.

Pausing in the large doorway that’s not giving you or Bucky a whole lot of hiding space, you take a deep breath before turning to acknowledge him, “You’d think people would be sleeping considering it’s only six in the morning.”

Chuckling, Sam raises his protein shake, “Weird,” He says while giving you a knowing smirk, “we missed you during training this morning.”

Nat and Steve conceal their amusement as you simply roll your eyes, “Yeah well it was a long night.” You mutter unenthusiastically, earning the tiniest laugh from Bucky which causes you to throw him a glare. Knocking that smile right off of his handsome stubbly face.

“Well we got all these shakes here if you two love birds want one. Hate to have em go to waste.” Adds the smiling man with a nod, if he doesn’t just love seeing you looking like shit. No Sam I do not accept this invitation for you to tell me how crazy I look.

Sam means well of course, but damn he loves teasing you in front of Bucky for a fun reaction out of him. And it’s kind of working, but not on Bucky.

“It’s fine Y/N, you don’t have to have one if you don’t want to.” Calls Natasha before taking a sip from her mug. “Just ignore Sam, he’s been annoying since the gym.”

Before Sam’s even able to speak you quickly narrow your eyes at him, holding up a finger before making hasty steps across the room. Stopping right in front of him, “Give it.” You deadpan.

Brows raised in surprise he glances from a confused Bucky, then back to you again, “Listen I only made so much, Y/N this is my breakfast okay you can’t just...”

Ignoring his rushed rambling you pull out the whole glass blender full of protein shake before taking a step back as the whole room goes quiet, then never breaking eye contact you heartily drink up the whole entirety of its cold contents without missing a beat. Yeah, definitely needed that.

After you’re finished you lick your lips in satisfaction, taking a step closer towards a speechless Sam as you set the blender back in its place. Giving him a satisfied smirk before walking back over to Bucky where you tug on his jacket to follow you down the hall and away from everyone else.

Sometimes you can’t help but be a little dramatic.

——

Laying sprawled out on yours and Bucky’s giant mattress, you stare up at the ceiling as he folds your clean and freshly scented laundry, your mind swirling with thoughts of what duties you have to be apart of today. Blah, work.

Sighing gently you glance at Bucky to see if he heard you, not getting anything from him you sigh again with more grandeur this time. Nothing. Rolling your eyes you suck in a deep breath before practically soft yelling out your exhale like the dramatic little beast you are.

Glancing over to Bucky, you watch as he turns around to put some of your pants away in a drawer. Okay then, that’s how it’s gonna be. Quickly sitting up, you smirk a devilish grin before silently reaching over to pick up a small pillow, once in hand you don’t think twice before launching it at full speed directly headed for the back of his head.

But before your decently soft projectile can smack his precious flowing locks does a metal arm swiftly reach up to catch it mid flight. Oh, shit. Bucky’s head turns to you, brow raised at you before tucking the pillow underneath his arm, and going back to his usual domestic duties for the day.

Okay, killer of fun Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frustrated from lack of a reaction out of him, you stand up on the bed like a warrior about to give a great battle cry. Eyeing his cute butt up for a moment, you smirk once again before launching a sneak attack pillow right for his head. It sails magnificently across the room before a metal hand stops it in its place. 

Well, shit.

This time he gives you a proper look, full of mischief and a new profound playfulness that sends an excited thrill throughout your entire being. As fast as one of Thor’s lightening bolts does the pillow soar in your direction, but conveniently for you he’s forgotten just how quick you can really be. This is just what you wanted.

Dodging to the left you watch in almost slow motion as the fluffy cloth just misses your face, instead opting to smack against the back wall with a loud thud. Snapping your attention back to Bucky he narrows his blue eyes at you suspiciously while you let out an admittedly scary villainous chuckle.

Let’s party my love.

He hands you a smirk right before shifting his body to the right, arm cocked back and thrust forward just as quickly, launching his second pillow attack without an ounce of mercy. You see it coming a mile away and as graceful as a dancer do you flip off the bed, landing perfectly on the carpeted floor just as the pillow smacks hard against the door. Thwack!

Slowly standing, eyeing him up like a lioness to her prey, you give him a satisfied smile, “Missed.” You tease.

Letting out a breathy laugh, Bucky takes a cautious step in your direction as he tests the waters, “Y/N what are you doing?”

“Getting your attention you ass.”

Chuckling he takes another step forward, “Was I ignoring you?” Duh, that’s why I, oh wait he’s playing you.

“Well you certainly weren’t doing anything interesting.” You sass as he steps again closer, this time about an arms length away.

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, “Okay that’s fair, but was the pillow really necessary?” He asks, though his tone is still humorous.

Not falling for his alluring charm you tilt your head to the side, a knowing smile breaking out across your face as he tries to register what your true intentions are. “Yes, and so is this.” You quip before dropping to the floor for a side sweep of his legs, in an instant he’s on the ground and looking wide eyed up at you.

God he looks beautiful. No, focus.

“Y/N!” He whines breathlessly, brows furrowed as he holds himself up by his elbows, “Now you’re gonna get it!”

Taking a quick step back you snort, “Oh really now?”

And he’s fallen for the plan.

“Yes, and when I get you, you won’t be laughing anymore.” He grumbles, trying to keep himself from laughing as well.

“Alright then hot stuff try and bring me down.” You snap back playfully as he rises to his feet, “First one pinned has to run with Sam later, and we both know how much fun he is to run with.”

Bringing his arms up into a defensive position he readies himself for an attack, “Yeah, I’d rather not be his jogging buddy today. I mean it is raining outside, but I know you’d look real nice after a wet run.” Teases Bucky with a smirk.

“Touché you smartass.” His lips twitch into a grin as you ready your own stance. “Now let’s dance.”

A/N: i'm gonna respond to this in sections bc it's quite long so bare with me.

Howdy y’all, 🤠 again. Yes, I didn’t in fact die. I’m sorry though that I kept getting sidetracked and couldn’t submit this until now, my boss decided to keep dumping her work into my lap. So I just wanna preface this by stating that I’m going to try and say what I want to as coherent as possible, but I have pretty severe ADHD so I’m not always as easy to understand as I think I am in my head, and I often go off on tangents, over explain things and circle back to topics randomly without realizing. Im basically going to go over their relationship over the years as I said previously (I’m not gonna go into detail about every single scandal and shitty thing Juliet did over the years, because we’d be here all year. so I figure I won’t cover them here, but rather let people ask specific questions if they want to. Remember, I was present for pretty much everything so feel free to ask.😊), but I’m also going to do kind of a mini deep dive into Andy’s behavior and actions (because although the snakes will hit you with every excuse in the book, and tell you that you’re looking too far into things and that it doesn’t matter, it does. The way a person acts in general and towards people around them is very relevant when talking about someone’s health, happiness, and well-being.) To start off, let’s take it all the way back to the time before Juliet’s reign of terror, when Andy and Scout were still together. In all honesty from what I saw of them together (and I saw pretty much everything they posted, I’m only a year younger than Andy, and I was quite into him when he was on MySpace and such, and I always watched anything with him and Scout together because they were fucking adorable lol) they had a really healthy relationship. Not once did I get weird vibes from them. The way Andy acted toward and with Scout, you could tell they really loved each other and were happy together. They had nothing to prove. It just was normal. (For any of you who are younger, or didn’t come into the picture until Andy was already post-scout and would like to see some videos of them together, you could generally search on YouTube for it, but also there’s a specific channel on there called like bring the milk tea or something that has videos of old Andy blogs and also Andy and scout on stickam and such. Worth a look if you’re curious) They weren’t constantly all over each other like possessive pack dogs *ahem Juliet ahem* and whenever Andy mentioned scout he didn’t need to shower her in compliments. They both seemed very secure in both themselves and the relationship. Super cute. Initially when they broke up it seemed quite odd. I didn’t really expect it. It got even weirder when he states that he and Juliet are together. It didn’t feel like they fit together at all (and no I’m not talking about from a fame or success perspective. At least not yet lol) As I’ve said I got bad vibes from Juliet right from the get go. Andy already seemed to be acting not like himself. (Also snakeys have argued that it’s just that he’s more mature now and that’s why he acts nervous and constantly looks Ike he wants to die. 🙄 maturity doesn’t mean losing your fucking personality and being unhappy most of the time. Jesus Christ.) it seemed like they got possessive of each other and constantly needed to show people how in love they were. Pictures, videos, and fucking public love paragraphs to show they are, in fact, in a super real relationship and they love each other. It also felt like Andy’s family was in on this whole weird charade.They (Chris honestly) started to defend her degenerate behavior and attack anyone who had even a whisper of negative things to say about her or their relationship. It was like watching a group of awkward, pretty mediocre actors put on a play about them being together. (I’ve hit the text limit now, but there will be more that I will write just after I submit this one though, fear not haha. N, you can either post this now or wait until I submit the rest, it’s up to you.) 1 / ? -🤠

A/N: i was here for a lot of it as well so i do remember some of this. although i did join the fandom shortly after him and juliet got together (i joined like around the time she was on the voice) i literally remember hoping that him and scout would get back together bc juliet just rubbed me the wrong way and i didn't know why at the time. & side note i actually do recommend people go look at old videos of andy and scout they were really adorable. there is this one video of them singing (i think a carrie underwood song lol) in the car and it's really cute. but yeah just bc he's older doesn't mean his whole entire personality changes. you can be any age and act however you want. i could even use jenna marbles & julien solomita (a youtube couple) as an example, they've been together for i think like 8 or 9 years and are about the same age as A&J (julien being around andy's age & jenna around juliet's age) & although they can have mature adult conversations and all of that, they still act like idiots and joke around together. neither of them look uncomfortable or are afraid of saying certain things like andy is around juliet. so andy aging doesn't mean shit in regards to his personality doing a 180.

🤠okay, so part two here we go. (Also I apologize if I get the chronological order of anything I talk about incorrect, I’m a bit scattered sometimes and the next ask I make will be the one where I talk about the domestic abuse and I tend to get quite heated, which only makes my brain function worse lol) so the point at which Andy was trying to get fans to go vote for/ support Juliet when she was on the voice seemed really fishy. I’m all for supporting the work of the people you love, but it’s kinda strange how hard Andy was pushing this at the time. Too hard in my opinion. I’m obviously aware that it was helpful in the end and he more or less got what he was asking for. But it was like he absolutely needed people to vote for her. As if he would get in trouble if they didn’t. So around 2012 or 2013 it felt like things really went down the shitter from there and just got progressively worse. (I never knew why for the longest time, but after they revealed that Vegas wedding that happened in about that time frame, it made a lot of sense.) Andy’s behavior began to change towards his fans. There are a lot of accounts of this happening from fans themselves and a lot of people said that 1. It was worse with Juliet around, and 2. a lot of the time it would happen towards females especially. ( I think more towards the “pretty” fans but don’t count me on that, I don’t know for sure.) This was completely night and day. Especially coming from the same man who used to always defend his fans and once stated something along the lines of he would never have a crazy or awkward fan story because he loves and is grateful for all of his fans and he won’t get upset if they’re just really excited. I would understand if these fans crossed the line in some way (like the later incident of fans finding his address and harassing them, which is unacceptable no matter who the people are) but from most if not all of the fan stories I’ve heard, they didn’t. They were being respectful and didn’t do anything to warrant this happening to them besides showing up. Which brings me to my next point, a lot of these negative experiences were caused by Juliet. Either she was the one being mean to people, she was causing Andy to be mean to people on her behalf, or her presence was upsetting Andy to the point that he was angry and started being rude and irritable. What scares me the most are the accounts of Andy having a whole Jekyll and Hyde thing, depending on weather or not Juliet was present. Happy when he’s free of her and miserable when he isn’t. In videos of him where Juliet is behind the camera he always seems nervous and strange. Like he’s afraid to mess up. That’s fucking alarming to say the least. You would think that the last thing one would want to do if another person brings them this much anger, stress, and anxiety, the LAST thing they would want to do is fucking marry them. Right? He literally started barely smiling at one point and really doesn’t anymore. I mean for Christ’s sake look at his wedding photos. What’s suppose to be one of the happiest moments of your life and to quote another anon with a different ask, he looks like he’s being dragged to the gallows. (And I get really fucking Angry honestly when snakeys tries to pass it off as “oh he’s awkward he doesn’t know how to smile” or “omg he’s being dramatic for the aesthetics” in some pictures, yes. But why the fuck would you look like that in pictures with the “love of your life” who you now regularly write cringy paragraphs publicly professing your love and complete adoration for? Andy knows how to smile genuinely. Ffs he used to. He smiled genuinely when he was a kid, he smiled genuinely with scout, and he smiled genuinely when Juliet wasn’t around. He doesn’t smile when she is there, and if he does, it is pretty much always visibly fake.) So I may backtrack a little later, but right now I want to talk about the fact that Juliet IS an abuser. More specifically, the plane incident. (Word limit. TBC.) 2 / ? -🤠

A/N: yes. 100%. when it comes to the wedding photos i will never understand people (specifically snakeys) writing off his behavior as him "just being dramatic for the aesthetics". is that something he would do in photoshoots? yeah. is it something he may do on stage? sure. something he would do in an interview? maybe. but candid shots of him on one of the "happiest days of his life"? wtf no. & idk why people think that.

🤠 Just before I start, again, with the pictures, I really don’t think that Andy is enough of a self absorbed egotistical dick that he would actually sit there and put on the whole “miserable tough guy” act in every fucking photo he takes. Ah yes, the infamous plane incident. So straight up, Juliet exposed herself as an abuser, and brought out every bullshit excuse in the book (and made Andy go along with them) to try to cover it up. 1. She was drunk. Honestly this is total bullshit. I say this same thing when people defend cheating or any other degenerate behavior with the excuse of intoxication and I will say it now. Being drunk does not make you a different fucking person. It does not change the thoughts in your head. What it does do is impair your ability to make decisions and judgement skills in general. It’s the same reason why people drive drunk. It’s routine. Its what they would normally do. And because they’re drunk, they can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t do that. Juliet gets drunk, she and Andy fight, she wants to hit him, and because she’s drunk she doesn’t think that she shouldn’t fucking put her hands on him. 2. She hit him in “self defense” and he broke her ribs.(There’s several points I have debunking this) first of all let’s get this out of the way, no one on that plane (including the very real witness who just so happened to be an adult film actress (I think?) who you so love to discount because of it) saw him strike her or even touch her at any time. Two, you are in fucking airplane seats sitting right the fuck next to each other with an armrest in between. It would be pretty fucking hard to break your ribs unless they were made of actual glass, or Andy’s real name is Bruce fucking banner. Bones are surprisingly strong and I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that it’d be damn near impossible for him to do that to you, which brings me to three, if he had broken your ribs you would not be fucking standing up, thrashing around, whining like a little bitch, and oh by the way, continuing to abuse your husband for the second time on that flight. Four, you had a miscarriage. (When I was trying to conceive with my husband it was very difficult. I had two miscarriages before I finally had my son. I’m fully aware of how devastating having one is.) which is why if you are not lying (which I fully believe that Juliet would stoop that low just to get sympathy, especially with this big of a scandal. But I don’t actually have proof of this so I will say that it is just speculation on my part) I don’t fucking care. I am not unsympathetic to her if this did actually happen as I said, however, You do not get to make any excuse for putting your hands on another person out of anger. Ever. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care what kind of stress you are under, I don’t care if you are inebriated in any way and I sure as hell don’t care what the fuck you have between your legs. You do not hurt anyone. Point blank period. Five. You are a woman, you can’t hurt him. This one, actually enrages me. We all know your crusty ass pulled this one out (and threw around trump supporters a few times for good measure) because you know damn well how society and the media views and deals with abusive women. Women can abuse. Women who are shorter or weaker than their target can abuse. The fact that there are people who either don’t know that or don’t agree with that is absolutely baffling. Six. The same (I believe) porn actress. Literally saw you beating your own face with the restraints you had to be put in (which by the way flight attendants only ever use restraints as an absolute last resort when someone becomes a danger to the others on board, so she had to be acting absolutely deranged) to give yourself a bloody nose to claim Andy hit you. Then you proceed to act like a child and tell Andy to call your fucking dad. (Which kinda proves that whole Scientology thing honestly) what in the hell. I stg as long as I am breathing I will never let this go. This is actual fucking domestic abuse. (Word limit TBC.) 3 / ? -🤠

A/N: yeah her hitting him "bc she was drunk" was never a good excuse not only for the reasons you mentioned but, also bc let's be real at no point are you ever going to get served enough alcohol on a plane to make you that drunk i don't care what anyone says. also when it comes to the excuse of him "breaking her ribs" does she forget that andy actually did break his ribs a while ago? i think she even visited him when he was recovering so she should know what kind of pain he was in. & if he actually broke her ribs, there's no way she would have even been able to stand bc i know andy sure wasn't able to. he said it was one of the most painful things he's experienced. (i don't think i need to comment on the rest of this. it would just be redundant. you hit the nail on the head with that.)

🤠 I don’t care if it happened just that one time ore more likely is an everyday occurrence. Abuse is abuse and should never be tolerated. Kind of getting away from the plane thing. Andy always seems, as it’s been said on here before, afraid to mess up. Like he might mess up, and make her mad. A common behavioral pattern in abuse victims. He also at this point and for a decent amount of time before, doesn’t seem like he loves her anymore. Like he keeps up appearances and pretends, but it’s like it’s a job he’s forced to do. He’s tired and burnt out but was probably manipulated into staying and juliet is probably clinging for dear life. Also I don’t know if I’m the only one who thinks this, but I swear, the veganism and sobering up was just a cover up, most likely formed by either Juliet herself or her fucked up family, after the plane incident to hide their tracks and regain some public favor (because you know, if you advocate for animal rights then you can’t abuse your husband 🙃) Andy never gave a shit before though. Even though it was unhealthy he loved to drink and smoke and was very outspoken about that. And he used to never give a fuck about eating meat or consuming animal products like leather. I mean they’re still selling leather goods ffs. I would get having minor fuck ups because you don’t know any better, but it’s fucking leather. And now Andy is unhealthy and miserable as ever, but the culprit is malnourishment and Juliet rather than cigs, alcohol, and Juliet. My final thoughts: I do definitely believe in the Scientology theory, but if not that than I definitely believe that Andy was and is being manipulated for his fame. On several occasions it really looked like they broke up, including the time when they did, and then said it was a joke. It really doesn’t feel normal. Also, Juliet doesn’t really care about Andy that much. She never wears her wedding ring, she sells all their shit, including sentimental items, and now that she’s gained more popularity from being with him, suddenly doesn’t want to put him in her bio or write him the same creepy ass paragraphs or anything. It’s fucked up how shes so keen to say she did it all herself when really she’s been riding dick for fame since before she even met Andy. It also always kinda seemed to me that Amy was kind of uncomfortable around Juliet. We all know that Chris loves to kiss her ass night and day (most likely to do with the Scientology thing “if” it’s true), but Juliet and Amy always seemed to have a weird relationship like it was tense and forced. Also I just want to mention the time that Juliet talked about screaming at the woman over what I believe was a game night and brushed it off as being competitive and no one gave damn. Fucked up. To finish off this already way too long little series, I think Andy is a very vulnerable insecure person who got manipulated by several people (not just Juliet) some of whom he probably really trusted, and they helped to get him in Juliet’s (equally if not more insecure) hands so she could hurt him as she pleases. I truly hope that even now both he, and his parents (even though Chris really grinds my gears) can get out of this whole shit show, relatively unscathed. I know this is probably pretty unlikely, but hope springs eternal I guess. As I said feel free to ask any questions you may have and I will try to answer them best I can. Thank you for reading. 4 / 4 -🤠

A/N: yet again you hit the nail on the head with this part so i don't need to comment too much. other than the fact that i do agree that juliet and amy's relationship does seem weird.

The Ratatouille Theory

 This...was just going to be a small drabble. But it kind of got away from me and now it’s over 3000 words. Whoops. But anyway, it was so nice to get back into writing. I hope you guys like it!

 Oh, and I’m gonna say that this takes place in the same universe as Can Humans Be Kind? But after a considerable amount of time.

Warnings: None that I can think of

Summary: Roman had just planned to test his theory but now he finds himself hitching a ride with Janus to work. Not good.

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 “Absolutely not.” Janus said for the third time now. He picked up the dishes that laid mostly empty on the coffee table, taking them into the kitchen. When he returned, he saw Roman pouting.

 “Why not! It would be so cool!” Roman exclaimed, still trying to get his way. Janus sighed, taking a seat on the couch once again.

 “Because it doesn’t work and the most you would do is give me a headache with all the hair pulling.” Janus said. He was regretting putting on the movie Ratatouille, he should have known it would give Roman ideas.

 “How would you know unless we try?” Roman was fairly confident this had never been tested before, which meant there was a possibility the movie held some truth to it. Besides, why would Disney lie to him?

 Janus stared down at Roman, almost missing the time the borrower was afraid of him, before sighing. “Fine. But only to prove to you that it doesn’t work.” And with that, Janus scooped Roman into his hand and quickly but gently deposited him onto his head.

 Roman squeaked at suddenly being picked up, though by now he was used to it. It always did depend on Janus’ mood, whether or not he offered a hand or he was picked up. Being scooped up like that told Roman that Janus was a bit annoyed with him but that didn’t matter much to Roman at the moment. Especially since he had still gotten his way.

 He looked across the mass of brown curls surrounding him. Surprisingly, the hair was as soft as it looked, even being ankle deep in it. Grinning, Roman grabbed a fist full and tugged on it lightly. “Anything?” Roman asked, after a moment of not seeing any movement himself.

 “Not even an involuntary muscle twitch.” Janus responded, voice monotone. Roman pursed his lips in thought. Maybe he had to do it harder. He gripped the clump of hair with both hands and tugged hard.

 A small yelp and wince was all the warning Roman received before a hand reached out and grabbed him, taking him off of Janus’ head. “What-Wait! We were so close!” He was sure it would have worked if he had kept tugging like that.

 He was brought in front of Janus’ annoyed face. “No, you weren’t. We are done.” Janus let Roman off back on the coffee table before standing back up. “I’m going to bed.” Was all Janus said before leaving the room. Roman could only watch him go with a pout.

 He was sure it would work. He just needed another chance at testing it out. Roman smiled, a plan forming in his mind. He would show Janus that Disney logic was soundproof!

***

 Roman had had to wait a few days, knowing that if he tried anything right away that Janus would be expecting it. But now, a few days later, he was sure it was out of Janus’ mind. The perfect time to strike.

 It was morning and despite knowing Janus was awake, the human had yet to come down yet. Roman would have to be quick but he should have plenty of time. Roman saw Janus’ hat, face up on the small table near the door. Perfect.

 Roman took out his hook and climbed up the small table with ease. Once his hook was neatly wound back up and at his side, Roman climbed into the hat, shifting slightly before stilling. Roman grinned, now all he had to do was wait. And hope Janus didn’t look inside his hat before putting it on.

 Thankfully, Roman didn’t have to wait long. Janus came downstairs not too long after he settled down in the hat. And, also thankfully, Janus didn’t look as he picked up the hat and turned it over to place on his head. Roman had to grip the fabric within the hat though, to stop from falling right on Janus’ head, because he definitely would have felt that.

 Roman settled down softly into the head of curls, grinning at the success of his plan. Now all he had to do was give the hair a few more tugs to prove his theory correct. He grabbed a clump of hair, about to tug on it when-wait.

 Was...Was that the front door?

 Roman dropped the hair as he realized the fatal mistake in his plan. Janus only grabbed his hat because he was going to work.

 Roman gulped, realizing how screwed he was. He thought about yelling or even tugging on some hair to get Janus’ attention but stopped fast when he realized Janus was already getting into his car. If he said anything, he would surely be in trouble. And while he may not be scared of Janus anymore, Janus could still be quite intimidating when he wanted to be.

 Perhaps he could just hide until the day was over. Yeah, all he had to do was stay in the hat all day and no one would ever know he was there.

 Roman settled down for the long day ahead of him.

***

 When Janus entered his office building, Logan was there to greet him. “Hello Janus, have a good morning?” Logan asked, a polite smile gracing his lips. Janus returned it.

 “Actually, yes.” Which was surprising. And suspicious. Not seeing Roman before he took off for work probably meant Roman was planning something. He sighed but simply logged that information in the back of his mind. He’d deal with that once he got back home. For now, he was going to focus on work.

 “Did Remy finish those reports I sent him yesterday?” Janus asked Logan, who nodded.

 “Yes, in fact, they should be on your desk. I went ahead and already took a look at them. It appears section 4 and 6 might be off, so if you could take a look at those sections in particular, that would be helpful.” Logan explained, looking down at a few notes of his own.

 “I’ll do that. Thank you Logan, I’ll see you during the meeting.” The two parted ways and Janus headed up to his office. As he got to his floor, the intern met him in front of his door.

 “Good morning sir, can I take your hat and coat for you?” Virgil asked quietly, not quite looking Janus in the eye. The kid was timid and shy for sure but no one could deny that Virgil would eventually surpass over half of the people in this company. Even as an intern, Janus could tell the kid was smart.

 “Of course, thank you Virgil.” Janus took his coat off first, handing it to Virgil who placed it over his arm. He then reached up for his hat, beginning to lift it when he heard a small, almost inaudible yelp.

 Janus, having an idea of what, or rather who, could have made that noise, he slammed the hat back down on his head. At the weird look Virgil was giving him, Janus cooled his expression, giving the kid a simple smile. “On second thought, I think I will keep the hat today.”

 “Oh, uh, okay.” Virgil shifted but his anxiety didn’t allow him to question it. “I’ll be back later with your coffee.” Janus nodded and watched Virgil leave, not wanting to appear even weirder by running for his office. Instead, he put on his usual air of indifference and walked into his office like normal.

 He closed the curtains as soon as the door was closed, not wanting anyone to see inside. He then took a seat at his desk and sighed. “Roman, I swear if you are up there…” He let the threat hang there as he reached up to take off his hat, his free hand coming along and grabbing the borrower he knew would be there.

 “Hey!” Roman yelled as Janus retrieved him in a fist. The grip itself was not painful but it was tighter than usual. He was brought before Janus’ giant face, which looked more than a little annoyed. Roman’s own expression turned sheepish. “I mean...hey Janus! Funny, er, bumping into you here.” Roman let out a nervous laugh.

 Janus’ expression didn’t change. “I have a good guess on why you were on my head.” Janus hadn’t forgotten about the whole Ratatouille business. In fact, he had been waiting for a counter strike from the borrower for days now. He just hadn’t been expecting this. “But mind telling me why you decided it would be a good idea to come with me to work of all places?”

 Roman didn’t bother arguing about the first thing. Janus had him figured out and there was nothing Roman could say to convince him otherwise. The other thing though, that he had a viable excuse for. “I didn’t actually mean to come to work with you. I just, well, I...forgot?”

 “You...forgot?” Janus sent him a deadpanned look and Roman frowned.

 “I really did! I was so focused on my plan I forgot why you put your hat on in the first place! And by the time I realized, you were already in your car and I figured if I just stayed hidden you would...never know I was here.” Roman explained quickly, realizing his ‘brilliant’ plan hadn’t really shone all that bright.

 Janus looked at him for another moment before sighing. He opened his hand, allowing Roman to freely sit in his palm. “I believe you, Roman.” And he did. He knew better than most that when Roman got an idea in his head, he tended to ignore all the flaws in it. “Although next time, and I pray that there isn’t a next time, you will tell me before I get to work. I may be annoyed but I will surely be less annoyed than I am right now.”

 “Right, sorry.” Roman said, looking down.

 “Good.” Janus nodded, knowing Roman really was apologetic. “Now, I can’t really leave work just to bring you home, so we’ll have to think of something to-”

 Janus was cut off by the door opening suddenly. “Mr. Declan? I have your coff…” Virgil trailed off as his eyes widened at the sight of the tiny person in Janus’ hands. Roman, at the sight of the new human, froze completely while all Janus could do was facepalm with his free hand.

 “I-I...wh-what is-?” Virgil started, eyes not leaving the tiny man but Janus cut him off.

 “Welp, there’s no use in trying to hide it.” Virgil was too smart for any of Janus’ lies and this was a bit too much to even try and lie about it. “Virgil, meet Roman. Roman, Virgil. Roman here is my roommate.” Janus introduced them.

 Roman stared wide-eyed at Janus but seemed to realize there really was no use hiding. The best they could do now was make sure Virgil didn’t go spilling the beans to anyone else. He put on a smile and bowed in Virgil’s direction. “It’s good to meet you, Virgil!” ...He hoped.

 Virgil seemed at a loss for words for a moment. He came closer to the desk, setting the coffee down and biting his lip. “Um...sup?” He said, giving a little wave.

 Janus smiled slightly. So far so good, though he had already figured Virgil would not react poorly. “Now Virgil,” Virgil’s attention snapped from Roman to Janus. “Roman needs to remain a secret. I’m sure you understand why?”

 Janus watched as Virgil looked back and forth between Roman and Janus, gears turning in his head. He watched as the realization hit Virgil and he nodded almost solemnly. “Good.” Janus was glad to see Virgil saw Roman as a person as well, it was a true call to his character. “Glad everyone is on the same page.”

 Virgil fidgeted slightly, looking like he wanted to ask some questions but stopping himself. “Was there...anything else you needed?”

 Janus was about to dismiss him when an idea came into his mind. One that might work out better for everyone, though especially himself. “Actually yes.” Janus grinned and silently instructed Virgil to hold out his hand, Virgil did so, confused. That confusion turned to shock, however, when Janus dumped Roman into his hand. “I want you to watch him for me.”

 “W-Wait, what?” Virgil stuttered out as Roman himself was looking towards Janus in offense and surprise.

 “Excuse you! I am not a child to be watched!” Not to mention, suddenly being placed in another human’s hand was disorienting. Especially when he didn’t know that human very well.

 “I’m aware of that. But I am also aware of the fact that I need to get some work done and you being here will do nothing except distract me.” He turned back to Virgil. “I figured he’d have more fun tagging along with you anyway.”

 “I mean...yeah, I guess he can come with me. If, uh, you’re okay with it?” Virgil asked, directing the question down at Roman. Roman blinked in surprise, not expecting to be asked.

 “I...suppose I’m not entirely opposed.” He may not know this human and was more than wary of him but if Janus trusted him enough to hand Roman over then Roman supposed he deserved that trust.

 “Just make sure no one else sees him. And that you bring him back here by the end of the day, alright?” Janus spoke, eyes narrowed slightly as he looked Virgil in the eye. He trusted Virgil but he wanted to make sure these things happened.

 Virgil gulped and nodded. “I will, I promise.” He looked back down at Roman. “Anywhere in particular you want to hide? Cause I can’t exactly bring you out in my hands.”

 Roman thought for a moment, looking Virgil over. He pointed to the area where Virgil’s hoodie met his neck. “There seems good. I have a good view and I’ll be hidden from any passing humans.”

 Virgil nodded and lifted his hand, allowing Roman to get off himself and settle down. “Alright, I guess I, er, we will head out then.” He said, talking to Janus.

 Janus nodded. “Yes and thank you again. Roman, be good for him won’t you?” Janus smirked as he heard Roman take offense to his statement and then watched as the two left the room. Janus sighed in relief and settled back in his desk to get his work started.

***

 The clock read 4 o’clock when Janus started packing up his things. When he had realized Roman had hitched a ride with him that morning, he had been afraid he would not be getting any work done. Fortunately, Virgil finding out about Roman actually worked in his favor and he was able to get even more done than he had set out to do.

 Now all he had to do was wait for Virgil to bring Roman back.

 He need not worry though, as he heard his office door open. Virgil walked through the door, Roman still on his shoulder but Janus was surprised to see them engaged in a rather...interesting conversation.

 “I told you it wasn’t going to work you tiny pain-in-the-scalp.” Virgil said, smirking but also rubbing as his head. Roman huffed.

 “Oh shut it, debbie downer. How was I supposed to know Disney was wrong?”

 “Uh, easy. Because they always are?” At the tiny gasp, Virgil’s smirk grew wider.

 “You take that back!” Roman shouted, standing up on Virgil’s shoulder, causing Virgil to lift a hand up. Roman took it.

 “Make me Princey.”

 “Well, I see you two had fun.” Janus jumped in, seeing this going on for a while. He had never seen Virgil like this before. It was certainly interesting and quite the stark contrast from his usual demeanor.

 Virgil flinched, like he just remembered Janus was also in the room. “Mr. Declan! Uh, sorry we were just-”

 “No reason to apologize Virgil.” Janus interrupted and Virgil let out a breath. “You two seem to have become quite comfortable with each other.” Janus observed. Both Virgil and Roman’s faces went a bit red but neither denied it.

 “Roman’s pretty cool for an arrogant prick.” Virgil said, grinning. 

 “And Virgil is pretty cool for an emo nightmare.” Roman shot back, both of them now grinning.

 Janus smiled but had to admit, he hadn’t seen them getting along this well. “Well, maybe we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

 Roman turned to Janus, blinking in surprise. “Wait, really?” 

 “If that’s what you want. And as long as Virgil doesn’t mind?” Janus looked to Virgil, who shook his head, almost a bit too rapidly.

 “No, not at all! I mean…” he blushed lightly. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Roman again.”

 “Then it’s settled. But for now, Roman and I should be getting home.” Janus held out his hand and Roman climbed on from Virgil’s.

 “Bye Roman, see you...tomorrow?” They both looked to Janus and smiled when he nodded.

 “Bye Virgil!” They both watched as Virgil left before Janus turned his attention back to Roman.

 “So, made another friend, did we?” Janus asked and Roman shrugged.

 “He’s alright. For a human, of course.” Roman said but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “I see why you trust him though. He’s one of the good ones.”

 Janus grinned. “I told you, I’m a great judge of character.” Janus started packing up his things with his free hand. “Also I’m going to assume by the conversation when you walked in that I can say I told you so?” Janus smirked, while Roman pouted.

 “Yes, fine. Soak it up. I’ll be the one telling you I told you so next time.”

 Janus snorted. “We shall see about that.” He was interested to see what Roman’s next theory would be, though. “Pocket?” Janus asked, already moving his hand toward his chest.

 “Actually, could I…” Roman pointed to Janus’ head and Janus raised an eyebrow.

 “...Fine. You better not pull my hair though.” Janus lifted Roman up, who once again dropped onto Janus’ head of curls. His hat was then placed on top of Roman.

 “All good?” Janus asked, hand on the door handle.

 “All good!” Roman responded back. Just as Janus opened the door, he felt a slight pull at his hair and he tensed.

 “Roman…” He warned, only to feel Roman squirm.

 “I didn’t mean to! My leg got caught!” 

 Janus sighed, shaking his head. Though not enough to really bother Roman. Sometimes he wondered why he was even friends with the little guy in the first place.

 “Oh and Janus?” Roman said softly. “I’m really sorry again. Thanks for not getting mad.”

 Janus blinked, his frown turning into a soft smile. “Of course, Roman. You may annoy me sometimes but I will never let my anger get the best of me.” Especially when it came to Roman.

 So, okay, maybe he did know why he was friends with Roman.

 Roman smiled, settling down into Janus curls as Janus started to walk again. Janus, and now Virgil, were both good. Good people and good friends.

 Maybe humans weren’t so bad after all.

Bellyflop into the Abyss (Dave, Mina, Adam- POTW)

Characters: Adam Walker (Hunter-Tapir), Wilhelmina Fitzroy (Nix-Virginia), David Herring (Selkie-Immo)

Summary: Seeking ways to combat the rifts opening across White Crest, Adam and Mina meet with Dave and dive into the sea of a Demon Dimension in search of answers

Content Warnings: Head Trauma, Parental Death mention, Gun Use 

Adam’s shoes sloshed on the partially flooded floor of the empty convention center, beckoning for Mina to follow. Deluges of water expelled from the dimensional rift in the Common had begun to create pools of standing water around White Crest’s greenspace, gradually rising and spreading to the ground floors of nearby buildings. 

“So I’ve set up a meeting with another hunter who's been fighting underwater monsters for a long tide,” Adam explained as he waded through the strangely colored waters from another world towards a staircase. “Before the portal opens we’ll probably want any advice we can get y’know?”

The water was high enough that Mina had simply taken off her shoes and left them in her car before she and Adam had made it to the common. It wasn’t like there was anything in the water that could hurt her before the water itself healed her. She couldn’t afford to ruin or lose another pair of shoes, seeing as how she… kept ruining and losing her shoes. She’d been sleeping (in the loosest sense of the word) in the woods more and more, and that was more detrimental to her footwear than she’d imagined. 

“That works for me,” Mina said, nodding as she looked around in the water, watching out for creatures that might pop out. Mina agreed to this because she couldn’t not. She wanted to help people. She wanted to protect people. She wanted to feel useful. “What, exactly, are we looking for in the portal? Just a way to close it, right?”

Of course all hell had broken loose while Dave had been locked up in Rio’s scribary. If he hadn’t already been in a piss poor mood thanks to the lancing pain where his arm was healing, one of the hell dimensions looked like it might even be fun. But with a firm warning from the doctor that he could lose the rest of the functionality in his arm if he didn’t let it heal, Dave knew better than seeking out new hunts in new waters while under the weather. When Adam had approached him with ideas for a frogman mission, the best he could offer was the equipment to keep anyone else from drowning. 

Dave had set up his gear on the roof, considering the rumours of how high the tide would come in, and it kept him out of sight of wandering eyes. His pelt was carefully folded to the side, constantly in sight. Just in case it was needed, considering how much faster. It was a sign of trust that might well go right over the young hunter’s head, but Dave didn’t mind that so much. 

At the vibrations of footsteps heading up the water-soaked stairs, Dave turned to the emergency exit door he’d wedged open. He raised his less injured arm to greet Adam, but his features dropped into a frown as a second figure followed him through. Fuck. Mina. The last time he’d seen her, he’d nearly crushed the life out of her. Dave took a step away from the gear behind him, hoping that having one arm in a loose wrist sling would make him look less threatening. “Hey.” He said gruffly, his tone contrite. “Not gonna hurt you again. I was sick. I’m sorry.” Better to get that out of the way before she freaked out. 

“Yeah some clue to what caused it to open, maybe what’ll close it,” Adam continued as they walked into the room, the Hunter’s shoe’s squelching from the trip through the sudden bottom floor. 

“Yo! Professor Porpoise! This is Mina and she…” 

Adam paused midsentence, brown eyes flicking between Mina and an apparently contrition-struck Dave. 

Aw shit, bad blood with the Scuba Hunters. Adam swallowed and looked over his shoulder at Mina, wondering if he just walked her into a meeting with her mom’s sealy exboyfriend who ruined the Atlantis family through bad self-care or something. 

“Alright, good,” Mina said, structuring everything into mission objectives in her head as she followed Adam up to the roof. “Find out what’s happening, make it stop, keep the Commons from becoming the next Dark Score Lake. Sounds--” She stopped in her tracks when she saw Dave, though.

Mina’s first thought was to make sure that Adam knew the danger and then get them both out of there, as against the idea as the other hunter might be. But Dave… wasn’t attempting to hurt either of them. She let her eyes scan over the selkie, taking in his posture, his facial expressions, his arm in a sling. And his words were confirmation of what she’d thought, that something had been wrong. (She still remembered his words, how he’d thought she was a monster, how he’d broken her like it was nothing.) 

“Hi,” Mina said, her tone cautious, but there was relief there, too. She’d been right when she thought that something was wrong. And, besides, there was no one to stop her for forgiving him. He’d been sick. Something in him had seen her as a threat, as prey. Something had been wrong. She couldn’t fault him for that. He’d been kind to her, before, and she could see proof of that man standing before her. “I thought-- I thought something was wrong with you, then.” She cleared her throat. “So, ah, Professor Porpoise, was it?” She felt strange joking, still a little on edge, but she was trying. “I take it you’re our equipment expert, then?”

The air saturated with a pregnant pause as Mina weighed him up. Dave waited, quietly, for her reaction. He nodded in confirmation, gesturing to the slowly healing bite on his injured arm. Too slowly. Every bad incident was taking too long, and even with the infection cleaned out of his system and the rest he was careful to give it now, the joint of his elbow wouldn’t be the same. And then the moment passed as she repeated Walker’s newest nickname for him.

“Not sure if that’s better or worse than what I was being called before,” Dave eventually settled on gruffly, without a lick of heat to it, there was even a twitch of a smile. It was a good nickname, all things considered. He did love word play, even if he was considering finding some land mammal comparisons for the two of them.

“Something like that.” He looked over Adam and Mina’s gear with a critical eye. Mina wouldn’t need scuba gear, so her wet suit would have to do, and Adam’s scuba gear was recognisably combat oriented, with a rebreather, but limited. “Looks like you won’t be needing any knives between the pair of you. Take your pick of the rest of this. We’ll start with these,” Dave said, with small boards that could be clipped onto wetsuits, each featuring a clock, underwater compass, diver’s white board and small computer with depth sensors and tracking devices. “At the very least it should help the pair of you find each other if you get seperated, and if the portal plays nice with the comms, should help you get back here too. This,” Dave gestured to a streamlined black propellor with handles, “will let you,” Dave pointed to Adam, “keep up with you,” this to Mina, “and get away from some of the gnarly things in there. Pretty damn quiet, never had anyone have an issue with it that they wouldn’t have had without it.”

“As for what weapons you’ll need,” Dave gestured at a few options of underwater pistols, rifles, bangsticks and explosives, “it’s really gonna depend on how much time you want to spend killing things while in there. Firearms and bangsticks are a good call for merms, grindys and dievalves, but a bootstrap worm washed up here this last night. If you catch a hint of those, the better call is to swim away.” Dave rubbed his jaw. “The deeper you go, the weirder shit gets. Don’t go too deep.”

Adam knelt besides the black propeller and squinted at it. “This’ll be interesting.” It really hadn’t occurred to him yet that down in the depths he’d be the slow one. It was a weird feeling being the liability here. “Aww sweet bangsticks,” the Hunter looked at the explosives with affectionate reassurance, as if being able to blow things up made the prospect of diving into a alien world less unsure. 

“How deep are you comfortable with going Mina?” 

Taking one of the small boards Dave offered, Mina clipped it to her suit, checking to make sure that all of the components were working. Everything appeared to be in working order, though it wasn’t like she knew how to work half of the devices on it. She probably wouldn’t need to. Before, she might have been interested, might have wanted to know how all of the different parts worked so that she could explain them to Bex in a way that made this seem less like a life or death situation and more interesting, like a learning experience. Now, she just wanted to do her duty and exhaust herself and try to sleep.

Grabbing a few bangsticks, Mina looked at the firearms and decided against them. She was a terrible shot. She could only imagine that it’d be worse underwater. She looked at Adam. She was so tired but determined. “However deep it takes. We’re looking for something, right? We stay down until we find it.” She looked at his equipment.” Or until you run out of air.”

“Just keep factoring in decompression time the deeper you go. Hunter healing only accounts for so much,” Dave replied grimly. “Tide washes in through the portal for three hours and thirteen minutes each day, try not to miss getting back.” He had no doubt Adam knew the limits of the equipment he used like the back of his hand, but he also knew how hunters could get around their own bodies. He’d learned that first hand. There were a dozen more likely ways either of them could die, but the bends was a shitty way to go. 

“If you’re within three to four hundred feet of the portal, I might be able to help if something goes wrong.” Dave held out a small ziplock bag with a slime covered mother of Pearl, handing it to Adam. Best not to ask what the slime was. “Spellcaster magic. You swallow it and it’ll put a few minutes oxygen in your blood. Hurts like hell and I only have the one.” A payment for the kind of job that had left Dave feeling like it’d be better if he could peel off his human skin too. If they were deep enough, that Pearl wouldn’t matter if some monster punctured Adam’s gear. If they were far enough, his pelt wouldn’t either. He looked from one to the other, determined, young faces, and hated what had bitten him just a little more. 

“Three hours huh,” Adam repeated. It wasn't exactly a big window considering how broad their objective was here. They’d both have to economize their time in the portal, but Adam doubted splitting up would be a good idea in a Hell Dimension. The Hunter frowned at the puzzle, trying process what Mina and Dave were saying while trying to get a firm vision of what needed to be done. 

The sheer impossibility of his calling, of holding back entire universes from encroaching on Earth, was crushing in its weight. The inevitability of everything being swallowed up in the Hells,  how frail and tiny we all were in the grand scheme of things, yawned in the back of Adam’s mind. Not for the first time, Adam Walker secretly wished he’d never been shown the truth, that he could just be playing ball, blissfully unaware of how precariously Earth teetered to a vast uncaring abyss. 

So Adam did what he always did when the cosmic insignificance got a little too real: He grinned and played the fool. It felt good, comfortable. It was the only way he could stay sane sometimes. 

“Aw sweet! Sea witch jizz!” Adam guffawed and poked the bag experimentally. The fraternity boy  let his mind drift away from the fact that he was about to plunge into an alien universe full of hazards humanity had never evolved to face, away from the inevitability that he’d keep doing this again and again until one day he didn’t come back. No one would ever know how, or where he died, or that it’d been for their sakes. Just like Dad. 

It felt good to be funny, everything was fine if he made it funny. 

“We’re looking for like...something to close the rift,” Adam replied to Mina with a confident nod and smile. When others were struggling you needed to be strong for them. A lifetime of athletics, drills, and just generally being an extrovert had acquainted Adam with the self-fulfilling nature of confidence, that lie you wore outwardly until it became real inwardly. “Like I dunno ..an off switch?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “We’ll figure it out y’know? But yeah def’ no going till we run outta air, I want to make it to date night with Nell.”

It was a cheerful lie of course. Adam never scheduled anything after Hunts. Surviving was a privilege not an assumption. 

Mina couldn’t help but snort a little bit at Adam’s comment before she turned back to the task at hand. It was good. It was funny. It was nice to laugh. But they had work to do. She just wanted to do something good. Maybe this was her proving herself to herself. She wanted to prove that she could protect people. She wanted to prove that so much that it ached like a bruise. And maybe no one else would know but the three of them, but she didn’t care. She needed this.

“Okay, then we go only long enough to where we can make it back before the portal closes from no matter where we are with… at least ten minutes to spare. In case something goes wrong.” Mina set a timer on her board that she’d start as soon as she went in. She shot Adam a warning look, one laced with fondness. “And you, don’t pull out any short of heroics if things start falling apart within the last minute, alright? Of the two of us, I can survive if I get stuck in there.” Probably. “So you’re getting out first.”

She almost made him promise, but she didn’t want him to get hurt worse if he did try and pull something.

Looking back at Dave, Mina added, “Please get him out first if something goes wrong.” She shot Adam a smile. It was almost genuine. “Nell would have my head if you missed date night, after all.” But she went over the objectives: go in, find an off switch, whatever that meant, and get out. Whatever destruction was caused along the way would be dealt with as it came. 

Even Dave’s lips quirked as he rolled his eyes at Adam’s antics, good-naturedly grumpy at the way his gift was being treated. In the face of… extraordinarily fucked bullshit, what else was there other than to laugh in the face of it. Adam had done this on the catfish hunt too. Even if his confidence in finding a magical off switch was a little too much even for Dave. Learning anything from the portal would be a win, even if it was somewhere to rig explosive or steel guards to stop some of the monsters coming through. But Dave knew he was too cynical and too old, and dampening that hope was a dick move. Hell, it wasn’t even his mission. The more the two of them got ready to go, the more Dave itched to ditch the sling and the constricting human clothes, fit in his better skin and be more fucking useful than playing a discount Q in this Mission Impossible. 

The information that Adam was dating the dimension breaking spellcaster barely had a second to set in before Mina was giving Dave instructions on who to save. Enhanced healing or not, Adam was the fragile one here. And the one Dave knew better. But it wasn’t a promise he could keep. In the dark, deep water, it wasn’t a question of choosing, it was a question of who he reached first. He couldn’t distinguish between two swimming human sized forms until he was too close to change his mind. He nodded curtly. “Let’s not let it get that close,” was all he said. 

He looked out to the portal, a icy chill spilling down his spine. That was the creeping dread of being somewhere he’d been before. Dave always got older, but no hunter aged with him for long. It still felt wrong to send folks who had barely touched adulthood into those unknown depths. What he wouldn’t give right now to be diving with them rather than sending them off without him. The first splash of water bubbled over the edge, spilling a clump of algae onto the ground. “It’s time. Try not to get eaten this time around,” Dave teased wryly.

Adam hadn’t been raised with any notions of male disposability, where the loss of a woman was somehow more emotionally significant then that of a man, thus obligating him to assume Mina’s life had more gendered importance then his own. Like most Hunter families, the Walkers didn’t see the gender of their children as relevant when training humanity’s protectors, and Adam fought alongside his sisters, aunts, and fem-cousins without any assumptions that he’d need to do a square-jawed Hollywood leading man sacrifice for their sake. 

Nevertheless Mina’s insistence that he go out first and not try any heroics still bit at Adam in a way that had nothing to do with chivalry. It gnawed at him even as he smiled and nodded noncommittally at her good-natured implorement.  

Why? Did he feel inadequate being the weak one here? Maybe? How’d that make sense though? He’d asked Mina to accompany him for exactly this reason. This was her speciality and everything she’d just said made logical sense. The tactical part of Adam’s brain had accepted that and already moved on. 

Then...why had it tilted him so much? 

Dave’s gentle ribbing and announcement of the portal opening came as a relief of sorts from the unwelcome thoughts sneaking their way into Adam’s head. Adam drew in a deep breath and let out a long exhale, broad shoulders rising and falling as the athlete put himself in the zone. This was the good part, that high you got right before the game started where everything started to make a simple violent sense. Adrenaline began to transmute anxiety in a peaked awareness of his own body and surroundings, climbing in euphoric intensity as Adam looked out the window to see a churning whirlpool pour open into thin air above the Common greens. 

Adrenaline and Adam were old friends. It was the only drug he’d ever needed. 

“Fuck yeah!” The Hunter grinned. “Nah don’t worry Professor Porpoise being swallowed is actually like...way more horrible than it looks in the movies, easy one outta ten won’t repeat. C’mon Mina! Let’s get flushed by the universe!” 

Adam had begun the boot camp hustle down the stairs, laden with equipment, when he turned back to look up at his pelagic benefactor. 

“Hey Dave,  thanks man, like seriously,  I owe you man this wouldn't be possible with you.”  

“Flushed by the universe,” Mina said quietly as she followed after Adam, webbing already forming itself between her fingers. Scales formed on her arms, on her legs where the wetsuit ended on her calves. Her gills opened on her neck, ready to take in water. “Might as well be flushed by the universe, I suppose.” At this point, why not?

She followed at a more controlled pace than Adam, but Mina was practically buzzing with adrenaline, with energy. She was ready. She was so tired, but she was ready. Her body may have not been made for hunting, but it had been trained for it, and there was nothing she was more prepared for than this. For once, she would be the one with the speed, the healing, the capabilities. She was ready.

Looking back at Dave, Mina gave him a wary smile and said, “Who knows? This could go quicker than we think. We could be in and out of this within fifteen minutes.” Nevermind that neither of them knew how to close the portal, nor did they know what would happen when it closed. She was just hoping they didn’t get stuck in there. 

Don’t thank me, Dave wanted to say. The weight of their debts, in Dave’s mind, was stacked in Adam’s favour. His life had hinged on Adam’s decisions plenty of times already. But he knew it might be the last time Adam got to say. The last time Mina would stand on firm soil, maybe. His heart twinged, and Dave quieted it. “I expect anything that doesn’t get used up back at the end of this,” he said instead, his voice so hard it could have been mistaken for brittle. 

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Dave replied to Mina with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged. “I’ll be here, waiting for as long as it takes. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” The third wave spilled over the portal into  the common, and a young, small karkinoid lay in the grass on its back, wriggling as it tried to right itself again. A few days of this had left everyone evacuated from outside the flood zone with cordons keeping people away, but denial was a powerful drug, and a couple people were straying a little close. Dave sat on the roof, peering into the portal. He started his timer. Don’t die, was what he’d wanted to say.

Adam looked up at the portal churning a few feet above the green, trying to hold his ground as strangely water burst out of thin air as if reality were a dike that’d busted a whole. Doubts snuck their way into the Hunter’s brain as another water nearly knocked him off his feet. 

So Adam decided to spit in fear’s face and defdefiantlyinately turned his back on the portal and gave Mina a thumbs up.  

“See you in Atlantis Fitzroy,” he assured before jumping into the spatial tear backwards like it was a water park slide. 

Then Adam’s body was being torn apart, for hours and just moments he was shredded down to the molecules in a space between spaces. He was completely conscious yet also obliterated. 

So it took Adam a bit too realize he was now screaming and flailing like a dumbass in the deep. 

There was no up or down, no sky, shore, or trench bottom. Adam squinted through the beam of his diving lantern light at an ecosystem that was entirely marine, a universe of endless water where his own branch of evolution had never taken place. He was just thankful that whatever otherworldly rules of water pressure existed here hadn’t crushed him immediately. 

Stars didn’t exist here, but there was no shortage of light. Immense islands of bioluminescent coral drifted in the deep. Rainbows of biological light permeated through water from three-dimensional reefs ranging from glowing boulders to entire archipelagos of riotously colored polyps and anemones on the aqueous horizon. Adam glimpsed drifting forests of alien kelp, their slimy shadows hiding arboreal ecosystems of flowering growth and predation the naturalists of Earth could scarcely imagine. Currents of cold rippled through the water occasionally from submerged icebergs that had been hollowed out with caverns by the locals. Warmer currents were thick with shining heavenly cloudscapes that turned out to be bizarre forms of jellyfish on closer inspection. Some of the extraterrestrial Medusozoa shimmered with their own electrical charge, lighting arching within the colossal jellyfish flows like tentacled storm-clouds. 

At first Adam thought he was in some kind of underwater aurora from all the waves of color shimmering around him. But as the Hunter’s eyes adjusted he realized there were actually tiny plankton-like creatures all around him, their bodies fluctuating together through spectrums of bioluminescent color as if it were some kind of eusocial communication. 

“Hey...Mina,” Adam tried the coms as he looked around. “Can you hear me?” 

Unlike Adam, Mina wanted to see exactly what it was that they were flinging themselves into. Even after Adam jumped in, she stayed back and stared, her heart beating rapidly. But she steeled her resolve and gave a nod to Dave before she dove in, hoping to have some sort of control over her descent.

No such thing. The moment Mina hit the water, she was in a current that even she couldn’t fight off. She tumbled through the water, moving so fast that it took the oxygen from her lungs even when it was supposed to be filtered in. She was disoriented and confused, but she adjusted. She was back in the headspace she’d held for twenty-something years, and that meant to be prepared for less than ideal situations. That meant being able to adjust to a world that was only water, and light came in a multitude of colors that took even her eyes a bit to adjust too, and that meant an immediate catalogue of her surroundings and person.

She hadn’t lost any of her gear, though it wasn’t like she had much in the first place. Adam was nearby, looking disoriented as he adjusted himself to wherever it was that the portal spit them out. Looking around, Mina couldn’t help but be slightly in awe of how beautiful it was. A world of endless water, no sign of the surface. She wondered if this was what the bottom of the ocean looked like. She wondered if it was better. But those weren’t the kind of thoughts she needed to have. She needed to focus. They had a mission.

Hearing Adam’s voice in her ear, Mina looked over to the other hunter. There wasn’t really anyway for her to talk back to him since she wasn’t wearing a mouthpiece, and it was likely that the sound of her voice would get lost underwater, but she gave him a thumbs up. Yes, she could hear them. Hopefully, they would have no trouble communicating back and forth with gestures. 

Adam looked over the expanse of luminous plankton aurora, reef islands, and kelp forests. It was an entire universe of monster-infested haystack to search for a needle that might not even exist. 

Adam felt the constriction of despairing panic at this impossible task grip his gut. But the Hunter took deep breaths that sounded thunderous in the diving mask. 

Focus. The town is in danger. No second thoughts. Focus. 

Ironically, the gift that made Adam valuable, the ability to sense any kind of supernatural creature was useless here. Every lifeform here was supernatural and the water was absolutely saturated with alien varieties of kelp and plankton. It was just dull static in the back of his head from so many Hunter vibes.

Kay, so the lead wouldn’t come from him. That meant…

“Hey Mina,” Adam began swimming down to her, leaving a small stream of bubbles in his wave. “We are looking for something that like...vibrates or gives off vibes similar to the portal.” Adam jerked a thumb back at the churning whirlpool in the distance that’d flung them into this universe. “Any chance you might feel a pull or like some vibrations in the water,” he asked, wishing they’d had time for Dave to give a course refresher on that particular bit of Aquaman wisdom. “It doesn’t matter how small it is,” he answered, “anything that tugs at your instincts.” 

Mina’s eyes were designed to see in water, even without the aid of the luminous sea life around them. She could see the look on Adam’s face as he got closer, the look of being impossibly overwhelmed. She recognized it. She saw it in a mirror almost every time she looked. But they didn’t have time to be overwhelmed. Every minute that they were in the portal counted and had to be utilized to finding what it was that they were looking for. 

She could feel vibrations, certainly, but Mina wondered if it was vibrations that she needed to be sensing at all. This was a supernatural artifact, something similar to the portal. A portal that opened up and let monsters loose. There had to be something about it that drew creatures to it, which meant, at least to her, that the key, whatever it might be, was something similar. It drew supernaturals to it. She would prefer if it was some sort of deterrent, but she couldn’t see that being the case. So she wasn’t trying to listen, to sense the key itself. She was headed towards something big. Something major.

There was a lot going on in one direction. She looked at the compass on her board. West. There was a lot of activity to the west. She pointed in that direction, hoping that she was right. If nothing else, they were in for an interesting time. There was something big down there.

Adam nodded and twisted the knob on the black water scooter that Dave had provided. The propeller churned to life and Adam felt a kinetic lurch as he surged forward through the water. Damn this thing had kick. 

Silver light illuminated the deep growing brighter and brighter as they drew closer. Passing through another kelp forest, the Hunter pushed fronds out the way to see an incandescent sphere on the horizon. At first Adam had the crazy thought that it might be a submerged moon or even a star. Demon dimensions didn’t play by the same rules of physics as Earth after all. 

But as they drew closer that ‘moon’ turned out to be an enormous pearl the width of a football stadium. It was nestled within an even larger clam, whose open ridged shell towered higher than most Earthen skyscrapers. The great pearl shone with its own inner light, casting the surrounding seas in a brilliant argent hues as if Mina and Adam were swimming through molten silver. 

“Damn, got any vibes what we are looking for here,” Adam asked before seeing some scaffolding at the bottom of the pearl. Altars and tents made of seaweed formed a camp on the fleshy surface of the giant oyster’s interior. “Looks like the pearl has...uh ..worshippers?”

Keeping up with Adam’s water scooter was surprisingly easy; Mina never really knew how fast she swam. There was no one for her to race against, and she’d never utilized what she was for a hunt before. Being a nix and being a hunter had never correlated before. She was kind of glad to be useful for what she was, for this aspect of her life. 

The Pearl was mesmerizing. Mina almost couldn’t look away from it. She looked at her hands, at the way the silver of her scales reflected in the silver of the pearl’s light, and she thought that she probably belonged in a place like this more than she did somewhere like White Crest. She could just… stay, make sure Adam got out with the key and closed the portal for good. Wouldn’t that be better for her? Wouldn’t she belong here? 

Mina shook those thoughts away. Mission. They had a mission. And she still had a home and a life and people, even if she was distancing herself from people. More than that, she was there to do her job. That was what mattered. The job. 

The pearl was definitely an epicenter of sorts for activity. Clearly, whatever intelligent life forms loved in this world had made the surrounding areas into some sort of temple. But there was no one around them, and that worried Mina they needed to be looking for a lot of life, and this place almost seemed abandoned. 

Mina pointed again. Further. They needed to keep swimming. 

“Careful,” murmured Adam as pressure suddenly began to build in the back of the Hunter’s head. “I’m getting like ...huge vibes here.” 

The shape that first emerged from the murk appeared to be a tampa drill shell the size of an aircraft carrier, it’s ridged spire bearing spiraling designs that evoked a language Adam didn't understand. However its contours were a bit too smooth, with walkways and portholes grown into the structure of itself that no snail or oyster would ever need. It was then that Adam realized that this wasn’t the cast-off shell of a marine animal, but rather a submarine vessel that’d been grown by intelligent beings. 

More of these massive organic submarines of calcium carbonate and chiten became visible as the divers pressed forward. Some types of shells were recognizable, while other ships were crafted from strange nautiloids and even submarines that appeared to be immense plants or a few titanic demonic fish that seemed perfectly alive despite the crew of lesser demons working inside their hollowed flesh. All the marvels of demonic biotechnology were connected together by enormous pyrosome colonies that formed long luminous tubes, perhaps to allow easy passage between ships. 

“It’s like...a dockyard,” observed Adam, “for these demon shell ships.” 

Mina was also picking up vibes, but they weren’t Fae vibes, hunter vibes. She felt ill at ease, like she had back when that creature had been loose in the lake. The two of them were small and insignificant in this vast, fathomless world with life that was possibly just as intelligent as life was in the place that they came from. 

It felt like Mina’s stomach was trying to sink to the bottom of this bottomless place. Maybe Adam was onto something about Hellmouths ripping themselves open. She gave Adam a nod as he pointed out that this was some kind of dockyard. This was a horrifying place.

There was still a part of her that was aware that she could disappear here and stay.

They needed to steer clear of this area, but… the more Mina looked around, the more she felt like this was where they needed to go. Something was drawing her towards this area, something primal that she’d rather avoid. In a place like this, she believed, rather unfortunately, that places that she wanted to avoid were the very ones that they should head into. They needed to be quick about this. They needed to be careful about this. 

Adam noticed a slight thinness in his breath as they passed under one of the behemoth shell vessels. His air supply was probably at the halfway point, but Adam felt like bringing that up would be counterproductive when they had a lead. 

The each horned prong of the shell above them could’ve skewered earthly ships on its glossy spiral. Occasionally there were windows in the bio-vessel’s sides, not of glass, but made from translucent filmy slime stressed across the opening. Adam pressed a hand against one of the portholes and found the slime substance yielding and permeable. 

“I think we can get in from here.” 

Mina’s two main worries about this whole situation, as she looked at the strange ship, were knowing how much time they had left to do this and making sure she remembered the right direction to get back to the portal. That was what mattered. She needed to remember how to get them back to the portal. Or maybe Adam had some sort of gps machinery on his diving board. She wasn’t bothering with hers too much, trying instead to mesh hunter thoughts with nix thoughts in order to navigate this strange land. Find some sort of key. Get back. Insure they both survive. Close the portal. That was what mattered.

Wrinkling her nose a bit at the weird slimy material, Mina put her hand against it and pushed through. It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d touched by far, but it still wasn’t pleasant. She was most worried about whatever sort of creatures they were going to run into. It’d been ominously quiet since they jumped in. 

Adam wiped slime off his goggles as they drifted through the portal into the demon vessel. In some superficial ways the interior resembled that of an Earthly sea shell. A central columbell pillar ran through the shell from aft to its spiked stern.  Whorls and sweeping structures expanded outward from the central columbella axis, forming great sloping charmpers with slickly smooth walls that were all linked by spiraling curvatures and twists rather than doors. 

What furniture existed was grown out straight from the central coiling axis, though Adam couldn’t really guess what ergonomic purpose most of these chitin groves and indentations served. 

Two creatures that appeared to be human sized moray eels covered in glowing pustules glided out from along a curving wall. Long sinuous strands extended eel demons’ pustules like seaweed wart hairs. These hairs caressed strange pearls and mussel clusters inset into the shell vessel’s walls, as if they were operating equipment of some kind. 

Multiple sets of yellow eyes with large black pupils swiveled in their rows of sockets down the eel demons’ body to regard Adam and Mina. Both the head and apparent tails of the eel demons opened to reveal rows of glass-like teeth as they zipped through the water towards the intruders. 

Mina would have been lying if she said that she wasn’t a little disappointed that the first creatures that they came into contact with weren’t mermaids. She really wanted to rip into a mermaid. It might be nice. It might get a lot of frustration out. But eels were fine, too. 

Ducking out of the way as the creatures headed towards them, Mina considered the best course of action in dealing with them. She didn’t want to touch anything on them that glowed, fearing some sort of electrical backlash, and she didn’t want to touch those strange hairs, either. But she didn’t have any sort of ranged weapons, nothing that would help in a situation like this. As one of the creatures approached, she moved to the side and raked her claws against its smooth hide, causing the bulbous head with its mouthful of sharp teeth to turn back in her. 

Mina jabbed the bangstick into the eel’s face and fired. Even creatures from whatever sort of Black Lagoon horror dimension this was didn’t enjoy a bullet to the face. There was the bang, and dark blood exited where the bullet went in, the creature’s body still floating even in death. Mina turned to Adam, hoping he was faring well. They needed to get moving. They had work to do.

Adam slid a still twitching demon off a long silver-tipped spear that had jutted out from what’d looked like a small baton. The human was less graceful in the water than his fey counterpart and red electrical burn marks stood out from long slices the demonic spine-hairs had seared through his diving suit. However Adam had apparently jutted the telescopic spear’s baton up against the thing grappling him and released a pressured seal that sent the silver spear straight through the demon’s innards. 

Adam tried to keep focus as they swam through the smooth twisting gyres of the shell-ship. He would occasionally warn of presences beyond the next curve or loop, holding back as school of eel-demons, Vodnik, and even stranger creatures went about doing whatever inscrutable processes maintained a bio-tech vessel like this. It was tense business, ducking patrols and trying not to lose ones’ way in dizzying chambers of chitinous spirals that didn’t resemble any human norm of architecture or even up and down. The burning lashes across his chest throbbed and the air in his tank became ever thinner, but Adam kept his head on the mission.  Surrendering to nervousness would likely be a death sentence here.  

It was on reaching a porthole leading out into one of the Pyrosomes tubes that Adam discerned something resembling a central meeting point. 

Pyrosomes were actually colony structures made from tiny organisms about a few millimeters in size. They often looked like cylindrical tubes of a gauzy texture that glowed with bioluminescence. But while Pyrosomes could get to about eighteen meters long on Earth, whatever extraterrestrial zooids these things were made of allowed the Water-Hell Pyrosomes to grow to far larger. Adam guessed they might even intentionally cultivated that way using whatever weird sciences the demons had at their disposal. 

Glowing pyrosome tubes, some many hundreds of feet in length and wide enough to drive semi-trucks through, extended from each of the behemoth shell-submarines. Many of the pyrosomes linked the ships together in pulsating networks, perhaps to exchange crew and cargo. However, Adam saw a great many pyrosome tunnels extended towards a central point, a great helical axis of coral that this vast hell armada seemed tethered around. 

“See that coral island that looks like a helix? I think whatever’s on there drew the demons here,” Adam theorized. “It might be what we’re looking for.” 

They needed to hurry. That was all Mina could think about as they moved through these strange ships, this strange world. Adam was looking worse for wear, thick marks in his suit showing burned skin, and she knew they were running out of time. His tank wouldn’t last that long. Mina needed to get him out of there. She should have just come alone. She wouldn’t have had to worry about air supply or another person. Adam was one of the few hunters in the entire world that tolerated her, liked her, too. She didn’t want to lose that, especially not here in this underwater hell. 

Eyes following where Adam pointed, Mina looked towards the helix. Even she could feel… something. A draw, a pull, a desire to head in that direction. She had no doubt that every creature near them felt that pull, too. That was the most dangerous area. That was, she was sure, where they needed to go. She hated that. She really, really hated that. 

Mina nodded to Adam and pointed towards the glowing tube that would take them down to the helix. That’s what they needed to do, right? They needed to go down there, take whatever they found, and hoped that it helped the Common stop flooding with monsters every day. Taking a bit of initiative, she headed to the tube and, before she could think twice about it, got in it and hoped for the best.

It wasn’t like Mina meant to let out the slight scream as she was rocketed down the tube. She hadn’t. She was usually more composed. But she hadn’t been prepared for the speed, and she hadn’t been prepared for the tumble she took as she came out on the other end, and she hadn’t been prepared for the glowing sight that awaited them. This was where they were supposed to be.

And it was filled with monsters.

Adam caught his bearings and took in their surroundings. The stony spirals rotated parallel to one another. One was comprised of scarlet Precious coral and the other of aquamarine Octocoral. Though separate, these colony structures orbited each other in the pattern of a helix by some quirk of gravitation Adam couldn’t comprehend. But the source became clear as Adam perceived two glowing coral keys of the same respective coral types nestled on the spiraling ridges. They filled the water with conflicting hues of red and blue, blending into livid purples in some places at the helix's’ center. Light seemed to warp around them, twisting into strange flares and halos around the keys.  Adam had a gut instinct that it was their power that was causing this helical gravity and had drawn the demonic armada here. 

Unfortunately, the stares from an aquatic school of luminous eyes, antennas, and blind tentacle feelers extended their direction gave Adam the feeling that sheer surprise was the only reason and Mina weren’t already dead. 

“Mine, grab the blue key!” Adam shot up towards the scarlet key, stabbing the silver spear through a giant brain covered in spines that’d tried to impale him against the reef. 

There were the mermaids. Mina had been wondering when she’d see them. While Adam was dealing with something that looked like a creature out of some sort of science fiction movie, Mina had something a little more understandable to deal with, and, as one of the mermaids came at her, she went straight for the lure before aiming low, ripping into the creature’s head with her knives. And another one. And another one. She could feel their teeth tearing at her wetsuit, tearing holes in it and her skin. She wasn’t safe there just because she was a water dweller as well. Food was food.

Mina wasn’t food. She was claws and blades and so much pent up aggression. She wanted to fight. She just wanted to fight. So she did, against mermaids and Vodniks and creatures that she didn’t even have names for. All the way to the blue key that Adam mentioned.

It was so bright. It’s glow filled the whole space, blending with the other key’s shades of red. It was so nice to look at, so pretty. Mina was drawn into the soft blue colors, wanting to bask in them for as long as possible. No. Focus. She needed to focus. She had to focus. She snatched up the key, washed in a blue glow. The key’s glow dimmed, and it was warm in hand. So warm. She wrapped her hand around it tighter and and started swimming to Adam. They needed to go. They needed to go soon. The creatures were turning to look at her, drawn to the glow in her hand. They needed to go.

Adam skewered an eel demon to the coral with the spear in one hand while reached towards the scarlet key with the other. He squinted past the ruby halos and flaring star-like lights in the water, hand straining towards the key resting on the opalescent curves of a hollow shell, like on idol on an altar.

Adam’s hand closed around the key, and the world exploded in pain and blood. 

A spine projectile punched through Adam’s back and out the front of his chest like a surgical bullet. The brain urchin creature had drifted dying in the water from Adam’s spear, but had sent a departing gift after its slayer in the moment of victory. 

Everything was agony as Adam’s vision was rimmed as darkness as he fumbled at the controls of the water scooter. “C’mon,” he gasped, rapidly losing blood and air as hungry demons closed in. 

Adam flicked the water scooter up to its threshold speed and held on as they tore into the deep towards the whirlpool between worlds. 

Mina screamed as she watched Adam get skewered by one of those creatures. No. No. He had to get out. He was supposed to get out. He couldn’t die here. She started swimming after him as fast as she could, easily keeping up with the water scooter as she guarded their backs. 

With each creature that got too close, Mina slashed out at them, baring sharp teeth and wielding sharper knives. Go go go. They had to go. They had to get to the portal and get out. She finally looked up at it, watching with horror as it got smaller even though they were getting closer. 

The journey to the keys had taken too long, but the journey back to the portal was an ascent. Mina knew they were going to get there before Adam ran out of air. At least, she hoped. She just didn’t know if they were going to make it before blood loss became a problem. The blood spilling into the water like an ink trail was attracting all the monsters, making them swarm.

The portal was close. In her head, Mina said, Fuck it, as she turned to Adam and grabbed him before swimming them both as fast as she could through the portal. The exit was as rough as the entry, spitting them back in White Crest. Mina was gasping as she breathed straight air instead of water, as she dragged Adam with her towards where they’d left Dave. “Still with me, Walker? Come on, come on, come on. You’ve got things to do, you know.”

Somewhere they tore past the sun-like radiance of the giant pearl temple, Adam had slipped into darkness. He drifted down into himself, everything was so peaceful and numb. Soon even the hiss of the air tank became muted in some inner distance. There was no duty. No pain. Nobody to save and suffer for. It was just Adam in the undemanding dark. 

How long he drifted like that Adam couldn’t really say. 

An exhausted part him wanted to stay, but Adam knew that other people were gave everything meaning, and they weren’t in here. 

So Adam forced his eyes open, shuddering and coughing and he coughed up blood and hell water on the Commons grass. The agony and color came rushing back like a punch to the solar plexus. He just lay there for a bit, the Earth’s grass reassuringly familiar. 

The rough coal edges of the key bit into the skin of Adam’s palm, reminded himself that it all hadn’t just been a nightmare.  

“So Mina,” Adam rasped grinning blearily up at his hunting partner. “How’d ya like Atlantis?” 

The longer Dave watched the portal, the longer he itched to jump in it. For them, and for the simple siren call of water he wasn’t acquainted with yet.Each tide brought the swirling vibrations of their bodies moving through the water until one wave he couldn’t feel them at all. Instead the waves brought monsters, some which could be deterred by firing backsticks into their heads and some that Dave couldn’t hunt so easily with one arm in a sling. He kept people away instead, all the while making sure he had skin in the water, as the minutes went by and threatened to become hours, until the tide began to ebb. 

Dave’s heart stayed in his throat until he felt the vibrations of the pair returning, racing through the water and a little closer with each wave. He turned as the next wave rushed through the portal, and spat out the pair of them with it. Alive, gasping for air. Dave couldn’t help his relieved grin. They filled the air with the stench of quickly spilling blood, freshwater algae and eel slick. His smile slid off his face as he saw the injuries that were becoming a staple of hunts with Walker, and hurried over to meet them. The first aid kit in his bag wasn’t going to cut it.

You’ve Set my Soul to Dreaming Pt. 2

Billy can’t believe he’s doing this. 

Can’t believe that he’s pulled up outside of 8253 Loch Nora, a gift box in his passenger seat, unwrapped because that would look like he cared too much, a lit cigarette fogging up his windows, and a sense of dread settled heavy in his heart. 

Just because Harrington bought him the fanciest thing he’d ever had the pleasure to own didn’t mean he had to return the favor, right? 

Wrong. Because it wasn’t just your typical, ‘I’m loaded, and you’re dirt poor, so let me get you this novelty that costs more than you have in the bank because I'm better than you’ from Steve, but something more like a peace offering. 

A peace offering from the loser of the fight, which made Billy look like even bigger an asshole than he already was. 

Like, it was bad enough that he’d even beat Steve up in the first place, but then to just ignore his attempt at reconciliation and keep up the machismo shtick? Even he was better than that. 

So he’d fretted for a week about what a rich boy would want, and shoveled sidewalks for old people and flirtatious mothers to be able to afford it. Not that the Hargroves didn’t have enough money for a dinky little gift, Billy just wasn’t allowed to spend his father’s wages on anything less than necessity. 

Christmas presents for some boy definitely didn’t fall under that category. 

In the end he decides on giving him a flask, decorated with similar filigree to that on the zippo, only it’s much more cheaply made. He hopes the sentiment is still there, because he knows Steve can put alcohol away faster than you can say chemically dependent teenaged washup. After all, just a few nights ago at Jenny’s Christmas Party, he saw him drink a whole bottle of vodka in under a minute.

Besides, regardless of whether or not it’s something he needs or cares about or is just going to throw away, it’s just to get even, this isn’t some life changing gift exchange. No sweat. 

Maybe Billy has that all worked out in his head, but then he’s got another problem. He can’t decide on how the present is going to get to Steve. 

If he should just leave it on the porch and bolt, if he was going to ring the doorbell and hand it right to him, or if he would just drive right on down back to Cherry Lane and keep the stupid hip flask for himself, and pretend the whole thing never happened so he could move on with his life. 

He loses the chance to choose when the double doors to the house are pulled open, and the silhouette of the one and only Steve Harrington appears. 

It would be more than weird to drive away now when he was obviously already parked outside, and even weirder to just sit in his car until Steve goes back inside, so he sucks it up, grabs the box off his passenger seat, and steps out of the Camaro. 

Rounding the front of his car and taking a few steps toward the porch, Billy decides to toss Steve the box without so much as a muttered ‘heads up.’ They’ve been playing basketball together for two months now, and he knows from experience that Steve’s surprisingly good at dodging fists, so he’s pretty sure he’ll catch it. 

And he does, if not a little clumsily, with a stupid, shocked look on his face. Billy might even say he almost looks as dumb as the sweater he was wearing, which had a Christmas tree crocheted into the center and was at least fifty percent tinsel. 

If his head was screwed on straight, maybe Billy would’ve even said ‘Merry Christmas Steve, thanks for the beautiful fucking zippo I use it every day, sorry ‘bout the face’ but it wasn’t, so instead, what he said was actually more along the lines of, 

“Save your donations for the red kettle Harrington.” 

And then he thinks he’s out of the woods, thinks the lack of an answer is the symbol he needs to put this drama behind him and pick a new pretty boy to pick on, but just as he pops the Camaro’s door, Steve finally lets his response tumble out of his mouth. 

“Why don’t you come in, Hargrove?” Steve turns the box over and over in his hands, nervous as he tries to get out what he’s going to say. “Nobody’s home, and I made a bunch of cookies. Got some spiked eggnog too.” 

And, it wasn’t like Billy’d rather be back at his own house right now, that was actually the last place on earth he wanted to be, so he wasn’t beyond entertaining the notion. 

He isn’t easy though, he’s not the type to just, waltz on in to some McMansion looming over him just because he’d been asked so politely. Especially not when the circumstances of this specific circumstance were the way they were.

“Whatd’ya put in it, the eggnog?” It’s a stupid question, just a way to stall until he can come up with an excuse to go in the mansion by his accord, but the answer, well, it’s not much better. 

“Chicken Cock.” Steve says it with such an air of nonchalance that Billy isn’t sure he’s heard that right, but then again, the people down in the Midwest referred everything with weird nicknames that he’d never even heard of. What was puppy chow anyways?

He can tell there’s a bewildered look on his face, though it gets overtaken by a slightly humored smile as he asks. “‘Scuse me?” 

Blame it on the bitter cold if you please, but a flush appears on Steve’s cheeks at the realization of what his words might sound like to somebody who had no idea what he’s talking about. “I-It’s a spirit, it’s really strong and- why don’t you just come try it, yeah?” 

Its cute, but Billy needs one last attempt at casting out the line before he gives in and accepts Steve’s offer. “Real smooth, Harrington, but I gotta get back to the festivities at home.” 

“Sure, ‘cause you're totally the type for that.” Steve rolls his eyes in a sort of false annoyance before he starts on his mockery. “Bet you sing carols, and bake cookies with your little sister and tell stories of your favorite Christmas memories around the Yule log and-“

“Alright, Harrington. Since you asked so nicely.” He couldn’t keep saying no with Steve practically begging him to come inside, so, stepping up onto the stoop, Billy scrapes his boots against the porch rug to knock off the snow so he can go inside. “But I’m outta here by midnight, alright?” 

With a smile, Steve steps aside to let Billy through the door. “Deal.” 

Ornate woodworking and fancy wallpaper goes unnoticed, because the first thing Billy notices about the Harrington mansion is that it is an absolute disaster. although he would expect a cleaning lady to have come through and kept the place all nice and pristine like you see in the magazines, there was shit everywhere. 

Piles of bubble wrap and newspaper stuffed into plastic containers, wires and strings and tape all over, a power strips and thumbtacks, and suddenly Billy realizes something. 

“This your attempt at Yuletide cheer, Harrington?” 

For a moment he looks at Billy confused, but follows his line of sight to the heaping boxes of decorations scattered throughout his living space. “Oh, no, I just didn’t finish yet.” 

Billy can’t help it when he blurts out, “It’s Christmas Eve.” 

Steve nods dumbly, something that should at this point be his registered trademark. “Uh-huh.” 

“And all your decorations are in a pile in your living room?” Even Billy knew better than to wait until the last minute to get things done, and Harrington always seemed so on top of everything, regardless of if he was doing it right, so it was kind of jarring to see him in such a disheveled mess the night of Christmas Eve. 

Steve says, in a tone so casually condescending, “Seems that way, yeah.” 

“Didn’t leave enough time between your panty raids to get it done?”  Snark is met with snark, but, because of the circumstances, there’s not the typical edge to it that would be expected from the two of them.

“I manage my escapades perfectly fine, thank you.” Steve toes at a box heaping with ornaments and labeled with the words ‘to throw out’ written in cursive on the side. “My parents just think decorating is too undistinguished, so I’m only allowed to have them up for a few days.” 

“Right.” Billy agrees like he understands, but he really doesn’t. How can sprucing up your house with a bunch of fancy and expensive trinkets and decorations be any worse than leaving it empty and barren? Rich people. “And how, exactly, would they know if you put them up early?” 

Tossing a strand of garland that had previously been draped over the back of the chaise, because of course they have a chaise in their first living room, Steve says, “Shut up and help me put them up then.” 

So he does. He untangles giant knots of tinsel, of lights and of icicles, and unwraps all of the Harringtons’ precious glass ornaments for Steve to put on the artificial trees (he’s allergic to pine) in the entrance hall and the dining room. 

He puts up the glass stocking holder and hangs the silky, designer stockings, which, judging from the faded fabric and the peeling letters written in red glitter glue to spell out STEVEn, are from a time when Ruthie and Stephen Sr. still darkened these doors. Alongside them on the mantelpiece, he hangs a handful of Christmas cards from Steve’s random relatives up on a thin piece of ribbon. 

The banister of the grand staircase is wrapped in miles of scratchy garland, enough that they can hardly see the wooden finish underneath, and matching wreaths are hung in the windows and on the doors. 

Just to prove how rich they were, the Harringtons also have a rather extensive collection of those ceramic trees, not the type you make yourself, but the expensive ones you can order from Avon and other designers Billy can’t even pronounce the name of, and they’ve put one on just about every surface that is close enough to an outlet for a plug to reach.

There are so many extension cords run through every room, Billy’s worried that Steve might end up burning up in a house fire, but it’s worth it to see the twinkling lights reflecting on blank white walls, the soothing colors brightening up a space he could imagine was typically devoid of life. 

And in the end, having wrestled with dusty old decorations to transform Steve’s house into something so, so pleasant? spirited? entirely unfamiliar to someone like him? he thinks he’s earned the hard whiskey he was promised at the door. 

Hours go by, and the two of them are sitting in the center of the giant French Country rug, a cotton and silk substitute for the Persian Steve turned out to be allergic to, backs against the coffee table and more than a little tipsy. 

Leaning back on his elbows, Billy lets his head fall back, his sprayed curls fanning out over the mahogany surface, where they have a bayberry candle burning out of the top of an empty bottle of Stephen Sr's liquor of choice. 

Blinking slowly up at the ceiling, the blur of the colorful lights making him dizzy, he asks, “So, how does this work, without your parents here, d’ya just, buy your own presents and put ‘em under the tree yourself?” 

“Nah. They mail them to Miss Hetty the help, and she brings ‘em to me in the mornin’. 7 a.m. sharp.” He pops the p on the “sharp” like he’s proud to admit he has a nanny at almost 19 years old. 

“The help. Think that’s somehow more depressing.” Billy ignores the way Steve’s eyebrows furrow together and his quiet, mumbled out, “Rude.” 

“Don’t think I have much room to talk though.” He sits up again so he can look at Steve. “Your zippo’s the only thing I’m gettin’ this year, ‘cept for maybe a-a good backhand or two after Susan gets her family photos.” 

A smile cracks across the other boy's face as he lowers his voice, sounding all too excited to say, “Guess that makes us a couple-a misfits then, huh?”

And Billy can’t help the laugh he lets out at that god awful reference, true as it may be, and it's with a smile on his face that he says, “God, you are such a cheeseball, man.” 

“Hey! I saw an opportunity, and I had to take it.” There’s a smile equal to his own on Steve’s face, as he laughs at what he said with Billy, and the moment passes. 

In the silence that follows, they sit just like that, appreciating their moment of camaraderie that they know is going to come to an end soon, as the grandfather clock chimes for another hour gone by, the bayberry burns down another few centimeters, and the headachy feeling of too much alcohol starts to set in. 

It was nice to not be surrounded by faux affection and suffocated by the fear of stepping out of line, but like all good things, Christmas Eve must come to an end at some point, and so it was that, around quarter to twelve, Billy makes his first attempt to stand on drunken feet. 

Based on the fact that he doesn’t immediately fall on his ass, he’ll probably be alright to drive, not that he really has much of a choice, so he grabs his keys off the coffee table and announces his departure. 

“It’s been real Harrington, but duty calls.” 

“Yeah, sure. Thanks man.” Steve waves Billy off and leans forward, letting his forehead come to rest against the surface of the laminated hardwood, obviously more affected by the whiskey than the other boy. 

But Billy finds himself cemented to the spot, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his denim jacket as he tries to get together what he wants to say, because he still hasn’t properly apologized. 

Not that it’s something he’d normally do, but some things can’t be fixed with Christmas Decorations and cinnamon spirits. “Look, I’m sorry, about the, the fight and everything Harrington, I just-“ 

“S’okay.” Steve tries to look at him, but he's barely able to sit up anymore. He’s got an arm slung over the top of the coffee table to keep himself upright, and his words slur to be almost unintelligible as he tells Billy, “Already forgave ya.” 

“But, I don’t- you shouldn’t-“ Taking a deep breath through his nose to collect himself, Billy continues, “How did you know I deserved that?” 

“Chalk it up to the Christmas spirit.” Accenting his words with the slightest shrug of his shoulders, Steve smiles a knowing little grin and says, “Go on home, Billy.” 

“Right, I’ll, see ya round then.” He starts to walk away, taking steps made shaky from the alcohol in his system, but from behind him he hears Steve say softly, “Wait.” 

Turning around, he raises his eyebrows to show Steve he’s at his attention, and Steve, eyes glossy and cheeks as red as the big man’s suit, looks him right in the eye (and the heart) to tell him. “Merry Christmas, Billy.” 

“Yeah, you too, Harrington.” The softness in his tone feels like a betrayal to himself, and he thanks the lord above that Steve is too drunk to hold it against him.

One last look over his shoulder, and he sees Steve face down on the coffee table again. Chuckling to nobody but himself, he thinks that maybe the flask wasn’t such a bright idea after all. 

Shutting those heavy double doors behind himself and getting back in the Camaro, while his hands shake and his heart races, is a strange feeling to say the least. 

Just up and walking away from the most genuine expression of compassion he’d ever experienced, knowing that, with what’s waiting for him back at home, he’s not going to ever let something like this happen again, makes him feel like he should just go running back in there, forget about curfews and abusive fathers so he can pursue this, this whatever with Harrington, but he knows that isn’t really an option. 

Knows he’ll get too attached if he doesn't leave now, that nipping that growing feeling of acceptance, of forgiveness, of warmth in his heart three sizes too small, right in the bud before it turns into something more wicked and ruins a perfectly good Christmas Eve, is the best possible thing for the both of them.

This was just an apology, righting the obvious wrongs that had taken place in November, and nothing more. 

Because having Steve Harrington three sheets to the wind and showing him the slightest bit of compassion wouldn’t be enough to break him down, no sir. This was Billy Hargrove after all, he didn’t let trivial things like throwing away potential friendships bring tears to his eyes, not in a million years. 

Or that’s at least what he’d like to think, but in all reality he does, shows up back at his own, completely average house back on Cherry with red rimmed eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed when he walks through the front door. 

So Billy spends the night just as he expected he would; a bruise forming on his cheek, wide awake in his bed, while visions of Steve Harrington danced in his head. 

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otp questions

Tagged by @chyrstis​! Doing Sharky and Mattie for this one...

(art by @ziorre​)

DISAGREEMENTS

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Neither one of them really yells at the other one. Sharky’s voice is naturally louder, but Mattie’s more likely to speak sharply.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Neither of them. Mattie wouldn’t threaten that because it’s mean, and it would really hurt Sharky’s feelings, and threatening that would never cross Sharky’s mind.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Neither.

Who trashes the house? Sharky’s naturally messier. If Mattie was away for a while, he’d forget to clean up after himself the whole time and spend HOURS before she showed back up trying to make sure everything’s perfect again.

Do either of them get physical? Never ever. Sharky would rather die than hit his partner, and Mattie would leave the second that ever happened.

How often do they argue/disagree? Not super often? They have minor disagreements occasionally, mostly about how to handle life in the post-apocalyptic world.

Who is the first to apologize? Sharky. Usually, he’s just sad about it and wants them to be done arguing, and whatever they were disagreeing about isn’t important enough for them to keep going with it. 

SEX

Who is on top? Sharky’s the penetrating partner, but Mattie’s more dominant.

Who is on the bottom? See above!

Who has the strangest desires? We all know who has the weird desires in a Sharky ship.

Any kinks? Not in particular? Sharky’s up for almost anything, but he’s not going to bring it up if he thinks Mattie won’t like it. Mmm, I forgot some stuff I decided Sharky likes, but it’s gross and I’m not talking about it.

Who’s dominant in bed? Mattie for sure.

Is head ever in the equation? Like, all the time.

If so, who is better at performing it? It’s not that Mattie’s bad, it’s just that Sharky’s really, really good.

Ever had sex in public? Not where people could catch them, but they’ve definitely had sex outside. Like, a lot. Especially once they’re living their best post-bunker lives.

Who moans the most? They’re both loud and gross.

Who leaves the most marks? Sharky for sure. He likes to see the evidence that they’ve been together, and he likes that she’s proud to show them off a little.

Who is the more experienced of the two? Sharky’s had more partners, but Mattie’s probably had more sex.

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Make love, mostly

Rough or soft? Usually soft, but not always. Sometimes you just gotta fuck.

How long do they usually last? I'm not really sure how to answer this? As long as it takes, I guess. Sometimes they like to tease.

Is protection used? Mattie’s not on any hormonal birth control. They use condoms until the condoms run out, and then they just try to make sure Sharky pulls out. Uh, they have a whole baby when they make it back out into the real world.

Does it ever get boring? Never.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? Things don’t really get weirder than in the bunker with Sharky’s whole family.

FAMILY

Do they plan on having children/or have children? They both wanted kids eventually, but they didn’t want them as soon as they had one. Harrison was definitely an accident, and Mattie doesn’t exactly love being pregnant. Sharky likes it more than she does, honestly.

If so, how many children do they want/have? They end up with four. Harrison who was the accident, then they on purpose have Ian, Ripley, and Max all about four or so years apart.

AFFECTION

Who likes to cuddle? Both of them! They are so gross about it. Disgusting.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? They’re both always down to clown.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? Mattie, but Sharky’s not exactly upset about it.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Sharky sometimes gets too hot, but he doesn’t want to tell her to go away. They both soak it right up.

Who gives the most kisses? Mattie loves those smooches.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity? They like cuddling and just hanging out together. They’d watch movies if they still had access to all of that.

Where is their favourite place to cuddle? The couch or their bed.

How often do they get time to themselves? Less often the older they get. They almost always have little kids around, and then the Highwaymen come to the county and it’s a whole damn thing.

SLEEPING

Who snores? Sharky. Mattie does only when she’s pregnant.

If both do, who snores the loudest? Mattie.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? They share. They’re all over each other.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? They cozy right the fuck up, especially in winter.

What do they wear to bed? Ideally, nothing, but usually shorts and t-shirts because of kids and roommates (Hurk).

Are either of them insomniacs? Sharky is. He has a hard time shutting his brain off enough to fall asleep, and once he wakes up in the middle of the night, he has a hard time relaxing again.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Nah.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Oh wrapped up for sure.

Who wakes up with bed hair? They both do, but Mattie has more hair so sometimes it’s crazier.

Who wakes up first? If Sharky is still asleep when the sun comes up, then Mattie gets up first. If Sharky’s going to be awake early, it’s because he woke up randomly at four am and decided to start his day.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Mattie’s not bringing him breakfast, but he’ll do it for her sometimes.

What is their favourite sleeping position? Spooning! Or Sharky on his back and Mattie on top of him like a starfish.

Do they set an alarm each night? Mattie would, but they don’t need to.

Can a television be found in their bedroom? Sharky would LOVE to have a TV on 24/7.

Who has nightmares? They both do, especially after everything they’ve been through with the cult situation.

Who has ridiculous dreams? Sharky, definitely.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Sharky’s just a bigger person, but Mattie doesn’t care because she wants to touch as much of him as possible anyway.

Who makes the bed? Who has time for that, really?

What time is bed time? Whenever they get sleepy!

Any routines/rituals before bed? They read to the kids (or tell made-up stories) and then get some good snuggle time in.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Sharky is, if he didn’t wake up naturally.

WORK

Who is the busiest? Mattie

Who rakes in the highest income? It’s hard to say under this situation

Are any of them unemployed? Technically they both are. It’s the apocalypse!

Who takes the most sick days? Mattie gets sick slightly more often, but they can’t really take sick days

Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Sharky's way worse at keeping time

Who sucks up to their boss? Sharky would be, but it’s totally unintentional

What are their jobs? They’re just like. Survivors.

Who stresses the most? It depends on the situation, really? They stress about different things.

Do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Mattie misses some of the comforts of pre-war, but Sharky loves how things are now. It’s the ideal situation for him.

Are they financially stable? They don’t go hungry, so yes.

HOME

Who does the washing? Mattie has more patience for doing a good job.

Who takes out the trash? They both do. They have to be careful about it because of the wild animal situation.

Who does the ironing? Who has time to iron?

Who does the cooking? Mattie is better at cooking, but they take turns with it.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Sharky, obviously 

Who is messier? Sharky

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Sharky but totally unintentionally

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Sharky, but again, unintentionally

Who forgets to flush the toilet? I’m not sure there are working toilets in the post-apocalyptic world, so...

Who is the prankster around the house? Sharky would be

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Sharky loses them all the time. He just puts them down and forgets where.

Who mows the lawn? There’s not a lot of need for lawn care. 

Who answers the telephone? Mattie would

Who does the vacuuming? They’ll both sweep the house when it needs to be swept

Who does the groceries? Sharky will go out on supply runs more often than Mattie, but it’s because they want her to stay with the kids.

Who takes the longest to shower? It depends on whether or not Sharky wants to jerk off.

MISCELLANEOUS

Is money a problem? Nah

How many cars do they own? They always have at least one working vehicle, and usually others they can break apart for scrap

Do they own their home or do they rent? Well, they say possession is 9/10ths of the law, so...

Do they live in the city or in the country? Country. 

Do they enjoy their surroundings? Honestly? They really do.

What’s their song? Burn Like A Star Fire by Sleeping Wolf

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Basically whatever they have to do before they can get back together. Just what needs to be done -- taking care of the kids, supply runs, etc.

Where did they first meet? Same way it happens in-game. She finds him in the Moonflower and he falls in love immediately.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Sharky's more impulsive about it, but there’s not a lot of actual purchasing happening? It’s more like grabbing whatever he thinks they need or would be fun.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Sharky for sure.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over themselves? As long a there isn’t an actual injury, they both think it’s pretty funny.

Any mental issues? Mattie’s absurdly resilient mentally. She has nightmares from the cult situation, but only when she’s already otherwise stressed, and she has some minor PPD after the babies, but overall she’s really mentally healthy. Sharky has some ADHD issues, but nothing that’s holding him back now.

Who’s terrified of bugs? Mattie, but moreso because she doesn’t want anyone catching any weird germs from them.

Who kills the spiders around the house? Whoever sees it first.

Their favourite place? At home together.

Who pays the bills? No bills after the end of the world, but they work together to provide for their family.

Do they have any fears for their future? The future is incredibly uncertain. They’re always worried about illness or injury that wouldn’t have been serious before but is now, and that only heightens when the Highwaymen come around.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Mattie, just because she’s better at planning ahead for it.

Who’s the tallest? Sharky.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? They’ll both do this, but I’m going to say Mattie probably does it more regularly.

Who wanders around in their underwear? Sharky more than Mattie.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Sharky does everything louder lol

What do they tease each other about? Everything, honestly. It’s a fun relationship

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Mattie 100%. She loves Sharky, but... let’s be honest. The New Dawn look? Not great.

Who crushed first? Sharky fell had and fell fast, but Mattie wasn’t all that long behind him

Any alcohol or substance related problems? Sharky probably drinks a little more heavily than is healthy, but it’s not an abuse problem

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Uh, well, Sharky.

Who swears the most? They both swear a lot. They try to clean up for the kids, but... it’s hard.

trepverter for Reddie and ignipotent for Harringrove

the Reddie prompt will be a separate post!

ignipotent: presiding over fire

Tommy hosts a graduation party out by the quarry the day after finals. Steve doesn’t really know why he’s invited, but he figures, to hell with it. He’s got nothing else going on and no reason not to go, and anyway, it might be nice seeing everyone all together again before they walk at graduation.

He shows up an hour late, not that anyone notices. That might’ve upset him once, but tonight it’s what he was hoping for, to sneak in, have a drink, and head out. Sure, he could’ve had a drink at home, but even if he has the same amount of conversation here as he would there, a party feels different than an empty house. Noisier, fuller, brighter.

Speaking of bright, though, he notices pretty quickly that Tommy’s party has something Steve definitely couldn’t have gotten at home. Mainly, the huge bonfire spitting smoke and embers and the occasional loud pop a few feet from the water’s edge.

Other than that, it’s a standard setup. Cheap beer, a keg, a few people splashing around in the water. Someone’s blasting Cheap Trick from their car speakers, and a bunch of girls from the cheerleading team are dancing and singing along. Steve thinks they sound like cats, but they look like they’re having fun, and that’s pretty cool.

He passes a couple making out on his way to the cooler — Tommy and Carol, as it happens — and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping to kiss someone tonight. It’s not likely to happen if he keeps to himself the whole time, but the thought of trying to get them all to look at him just makes him feel tired for some reason. 

There’s a big thing of driftwood blocking the cooler from the bonfire, and Steve crosses over it with a cold one sweating in his hand. He pops the tab and downs it in one go, feeling cold from the beer but warm from the fire.

“You need something stronger there, Harrington?”

Steve crunches the can in his fist and stares at it for a long time before looking over at the shape Billy cuts. All lit up in the firelight he almost reminds Steve of that night his life took a turn for the weird and a fucking monster went up in flames right in front of him. Here and now, though, Billy looks more like he’s part of what makes it burn. Less like kindling and more like accelerant.

“Yeah, actually,” Steve mutters. “If you’re gonna keep talking to me.” He tosses his empty can into a black trash bag already halfway full of cans and sticks.

“How ‘bout a smoke?” Billy asks, and fuck, Steve didn’t even hear him walking over. He pretends to pluck something out from behind Steve’s ear. It’s a joint. “Yes? No? Maybe?”

Steve stares at him. How drunk is he that he’s standing this close and not trying to fuck him up? He’s gotta be trashed — he’d have to to be — except he looks more sober than anyone else Steve has seen since driving up.

Billy raises his eyebrows. “Try again later?”

“Look, I don’t wanna do this with you tonight. I just wanna get a buzz on and go home.”

“Lemme get a buzz on you then,” Billy croons, his smile like a knife and looking more deadly for the shadows playing over his face, making all his edges appear that much sharper. “Or are you not in the mood to have a little fun?”

Steve squints at him. He’d thought Billy seemed sober at first glance, but maybe the joint in his hand isn’t his first of the night. That would explain it.

Some of it.

Regardless, Steve’s not drunk enough to take a peace offering from Billy Hargrove. If that’s what it even is.

“Depends. Are you gonna smash a plate over my head again?”

Billy’s smile stutters, and the weapon of his mouth takes to looking like a wound. He recovers a second later, but he can’t get that blade-like curve to settle in where it was. There was a time when he would’ve felt good about taking him down a peg, but now he just feels like he’s exposed a scar. He’s not sure if it’s his or Billy’s, is the thing.

It reminds him of all the other ways people can give scars — by tearing up a photograph or by smashing a camera. Or with words.

Steve meets Billy’s eyes, Billy who’s gone quiet and squirmy since Steve brought up the fight. They’ve done a pretty good job, both of them, of staying out of each other’s way ever since that night. Steve thought it was because they’d just fight if their paths crossed again, but here they are stood still at a crossroads. Billy doesn’t look like he wants to fight. He doesn’t like he’s been wanting to fight.

“You know,” Steve starts, tilting his head when Billy jumps at the sound of his voice. “An apology goes a long way. I mean. In my experience.”

In the light of the fire, staring and wide-eyed, Billy looks like a kid, but like he’s seen the inside of hell, too. The only other person Steve knows who looks like that is Dustin’s friend El, and he’s got it on pretty good authority that she has seen the inside of hell. 

So what has Billy seen?

He jerks out of his trance to glare at the fire. As closely as Steve’s watching him, he’s still surprised when Billy’s hand shoots out. Steve takes it, perplexed until Billy finally looks at him.

“Sorry, for…”

“Yeah,” Steve says, throat tight with his heartbeat, and with something he can’t name.

“It wasn’t — I didn’t — ”

Steve nods, lost but not. He knows what Billy means, somehow, and he knows why he can’t say  it. If he put him to it, Steve couldn’t either. Billy pumps his hand once and lets go before Steve’s figured out how to follow him in the gesture.

“So…” Billy clears his throat. “You want that smoke or what?”

Steve smiles and says sure. 

“One thing, though. I gotta get outta here. If Madonna comes on one more fuckin’ time, I’m gonna lose my shit.”

And that’s how Steve winds up crashing through the underbrush with Billy and stepping on his heels when the shadows get too dark to see through.

“Harrington, Jesus Christ.”

“What? It’s dark!”

Billy feels out into the darkness for him and hauls him the rest of the way through the trees. They’re close enough to hear laughter and just a suggestion of music, but when Steve walks out to the edge of the bank the woods let out onto and he can’t see anyone. It’s damn near cozy.

“How’d you know about this place?” Steve asks.

“I didn’t,” Billy tells him, puffing once and passing him the lit joint. He drops down to sit and stretches his legs out in front of him.

Steve sits, too. In the moonlight, he can’t remember what it was about Billy’s face that made him look anything but young. It’s weird, still, to be this close to him, but that feeling goes up in smoke, hit for hit. As it leaves him, it starts to feel weirder not leaning into Billy so their arms press in a single line from shoulder to wrist.

Billy flicks the nub when they’re done with it and digs around in his jacket for another. Steve’s already feeling pretty good, but he’s not gonna say no to feeling better. It’s why he’s already saying yes when Billy starts to ask him a different question.

“Wait, what?”

“I said, you ever shotgun a hit before?”

“Oh. Then no.”

“What did you think I was gonna say?” Billy purrs, back on his grinning bullshit, but he doesn’t look dangerous like he usually does. Between the lopsided tilt of his smile and the glazed look in his eyes he looks more at risk for raiding a fridge than he does for starting shit.

“I just thought you were gonna ask if I wanted to smoke some more. What’s — what did you call it? A shotgun?”

“Yeah, shotgunning. It’s the same hit. Goes from me to you. Sharing is caring, right?”

“Sure, I guess. How does it work?”

Billy flicks his tongue against a sharp tooth. He shrugs one shoulder. “I blow smoke. You breathe it in. Easy.”

“What, like, you blow it in my face?” Steve asks, starting to grin, too. That sounds silly.

“Nah, I blow into your mouth.”

“My mouth?” Steve echoes, feeling something warm and insistent uncurl low in his belly.

Billy hums, takes a slow drag and holds it. There’s a patient, oddly steady look to his eyes, the same one he pointed at Steve that night outside Mrs. Byers’ house. Steve stutters and gives a jerky nod. 

When that doesn’t get Billy to move, he swallows and unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Says, “Yeah, okay.”

He only flinches a little when Billy leans in close and taps the spot under his chin. Something about Billy touching him makes his heart race, and it’s not because he’s scared of getting hit. He doesn’t quite breathe in at the same time that Billy breathes out, but he catches most of it. After, for a moment, Billy’s still close enough to —

Well, they could almost be kissing if Steve’s lungs weren’t full of smoke. He chokes on the realization and turns his head, sputtering and coughing and buzzing where Billy thumps him a few times on the back.

Billy’s laugh, usually psychotic, sounds softer now. Everything about him seems softer, everything but the lingering weight of his palm spanning Steve’s shoulder. He’s got his other hand halfway to his mouth to take another hit when Steve stops him. Their fingers overlap when Steve clumsily takes the joint from him, and that small touch, that slide of friction, gets his heart pounding. The silence that rises up between them, whatever it might mean, makes the blood roar in Steve’s ears.

He’s not stupid. Billy’s mouth was close enough to taste, and Steve wanted him closer still. He knows what that means, even if he can’t make sense of why. Billy watches his eyes, then his mouth, and he only hesitates as long as it takes for Steve to press his fingers to his jaw. 

They draw in closer this time, and the way Steve feels, there’s no way he’s not finding out if his lips are as soft as they look. There’s no way. 

He lets the smoke rush out of him, lets Billy take it from him, and sways in to smear a kiss into his mouth. It’s like standing by the bonfire again, cast in a burning glow and sparking to life everywhere that Billy’s touching him, everywhere Billy could be touching him.

Billy breaks away to breathe and let the smoke go. Steve tries to remember how to breathe, too, but he’s having a rough go of it. He stubs out the burning cherry until it goes dark, thinking, okay, now they’re gonna fight, now Billy’s gonna kick his ass. Steve’s halfway to apologizing and most of the way toward accepting that he’ll be going home with a black eye when Billy turns back to him.

And kisses him again.

He frames Steve’s face with his hands, gentle in a way Steve didn’t think he could be. Steve wraps him up in his arms, crushing him closer so they can sink down together. Together.

Billy smells like a bonfire and tastes like beer. He feels like falling. The kind Steve hasn’t been doing much of lately. Billy bends down to mouth at his neck, and when he lets his head thunk back onto the ground, Steve’s awareness of the music starts to trickle back in. He looks in that direction, listening, and grins.

“Do you hear that?”

“Stay… stay darling…”

“Hmm?” Billy doesn’t look up from where he’s no doubt sucking a mark against his throat.

Steve laughs and tangles his fingers in Billy’s hair. “Madonna.”

“Ugh, God,” he groans, and that just makes Steve laugh harder.

“When you walked out my door — ” Steve starts, but that’s as far as he gets before Billy surges up to bite and kiss him quiet.

Born Into This | 02: The Middle Of Starting Over

POV Paddy

“What do you know about what happened a week after your school started? I believe that was the week of the 8th of September. I’m particularly interested in yours and Ms. Barnes ‘study date’ on the 9th and your families’ reactions to you letting her into your home.”

“PATRICK! WHY THE HELL DID YOU INVITE A BARNES INTO OUR HOUSE!” My father yelled at me in his English classroom while Finn watched from the doorway.

“Because we need somewhere to work on the project you gave us. And anyway what does her last name have to do with anything?” I asked him.

“You’re still so naive. Her family is the one that destroyed our home in London. And I thought you could work on it at school or in a public space or at hers, not our home.”

“Why?” Finn asked from the corner of the room.

“So we could have a foothold in her house.”

“I can’t believe this. You promised me and mum that I wasn’t going to be like the other three. I wasn’t going to be a part of all this. I wasn’t meant to join until I was old enough to choose. Everyone agreed at least one of us was meant to have a normal life. I was meant to be normal,” I yelled at my father as Finn locked the class’ door, making sure no one got in to hear this conversation.

“No one in this family is normal Patrick least of all you. You are going to play an important part in the future of this family. You’re going to be the one to put us back on top and not be the minions of some second rate psychopath.”

“Well, this is all well and good but your next class starts in a few minutes and people are wanting to come in,” Finn said from his spot by the door.

“Of course. We’ll discuss this at home Paddy.”

“Actually, we won’t TJ’s coming over so we can do our project. You know the one you assigned us,” I said as we walked out of the door toward our next class.

“A little cold don’t you think,” Finn said as we moved over to our lockers.

“Maybe but it worked didn’t it.”

“Maybe but I have a feeling your study date’s not going to go as you have planned.”

“Maybe not but nothing ever does in that house.”

“You ready?” I asked TJ as I walked up behind her.

“Yup. I just need to grab something from Millie then I’m all good to go,” She said as she quickly shut her locker when she noticed me.

“What are you hiding in your locker?” I asked her.

“I’m hiding books, art supplies and a very embarrassing letter from my twin brother before he… Nevermind,” she said waving to Millie and Sofia behind me.

“Um erro para você,” Sofia said to TJ handing her a bag.

“Now I’m ready to go,” She said smiling at me.

We walked out of the school in silence, getting into my brother’s car. I started talking to Sam while TJ read her book on the car ride to our house out of the city. By the time we pulled into the long driveway, Sam had built up enough courage to talk to TJ.

“I hear you have a twin brother,” He had said to her.

“I had a twin brother. Had being the keyword in that sentence. It was one of the reasons I made the move here with my aunts,” TJ responded with a sad smirk.

“Can I ask what happened to him? I may not know what it’s like without my twin and I can’t imagine what it must be like but sometimes I wish I did,” He told her, looking her in the eye through the rearview mirror.

“He isn’t with us anymore. I’m not convinced he’s truly dead. It feels as though there should be a bigger gap in my heart if he truly was. But it just feels like it did when we were kids and we would go to different schools every day, except we’re further away from each other this time,” She said with a wistful look on her face as if she was trying to figure some big game of chess out, “Sometimes I wish that I could know if he was dead or not, just so I could either find him or his ghost and kill him with my own hands.”

“Well, feel free to do that to Harry anytime you want. I’ll help you make it look like an accident. I have the same emotions toward him as you do your twin.”

“I might take you up on that offer, Sam. But for now, Luisa May Alcott and her Little Women are calling my name and I need a good grade on this if I don’t want to be murdered by my aunt Hayley,” She said smiling at him as we got out of the car.

“Have fun you two and remember, Paddy, keep a door open!” Sam yelled at us as we walked into the house, while he waited for Harry so they could do something I don’t even want to think about.

“Sorry about him and my entire family and friends that live in this house,” I told her as we walked up the stairs to the front door.

“It’s OK. I’m sure my family is 1000% weirder than yours.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Ok. My brothers once decided it would be a good idea to throw toilet paper at my head for an Instagram video,” I told her starting with one of the less weird stories I have from my family.

“My aunts have a metal reinforced bomb shelter that could survive any bomb I’m aware of, in our apartment that they have told me on numerous occasions it’s not used for sex stuff.”

“OK, I’m thinking through all of my stories and none of them match that.”

POV Hayley

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“The only thing that I can’t remember that would be at all relevant.”

“Has it disappeared from your memory?”

“It appears it has slipped my mind.”

“So you have a date,” I teased TJ at dinner.

“It’s not a date, it’s a study session for an English project I could do by myself blindfolded in your warehouse. It’s on Little Women, all I really would have to do is ask Emma or Flo and I could get all the answers I would ever need. Or I could just do it myself but it’s a group project,” TJ told me stabbing my salad on my plate.

“It sounds like you have a date,” Lizzie told her.

“And you stole my salad.”

“It’s not a date,” She laughed/defended herself. “And I did.”

“If you say so,” I told her changing the topic, “So how would you feel about helping me on Sebastian’s case? You can annoy the hell out of him till he takes the plea bargain. Or you could trick him into a confession.”

“Aren’t you meant to be proving his innocence?” Lizz asked me.

“Yes, but no jury is going to let him get away with it in today’s society.”

“He was arrested for public intoxication, that’s a slap on the wrist especially with his family,” TJ told me what I already knew.

“He was arrested for public intoxication, attempting to purchase sex, and pimping out college girls. He can get away with public intoxication, maybe depending on his labwork but with his track record and all of this shit he’ll see some prison time. I hope. I feel so sorry for those poor girls he was pimping out,” I told her eating my own dinner.

“How is it that I’m the one who sees this as an uncomfortable dinner time talk? I’m the one that partakes in murder and torture for a living,” Lizzie spoke up refilling her wine glass.

“Maybe because you partake in mob activity and pimps tend to be mob members in this city?” TJ spoke.

“We don’t do that. Like we no longer deal drugs we help them out instead, providing employment and educational opportunities for those who would have no other option but to turn to people like Sebastian and Chris. We don’t play in that game. We try and empower women,” Lizzie said voice rising in anger.

“I’m sorry Liz, I just don’t know that much about all this,” TJ told her.

“So, should we play a game?” I asked trying to ease the tension.

“Sure,” They said in unison.

“How about two rounds of Never Have I Ever?” I asked.

“I’ll win so sure,” TJ said with a smirk.

“If you have you have to take a shot of hot sauce or vodka. I’ll start,” Lizzie said, “Never Have I Ever, worked for the law.”

“Screw you, Elizabeth!” I said as TJ tried to find the hot sauce on the table as I got the shot glasses and took a shot of vodka.

“I had one internship,” TJ said taking her hot sauce shot with pride, “My go, never have I ever shot a man.”

“Not myself, well not with a gun,” Lizzie said as we turned to look at her before she asked, “Do crossbows count?”

“Yes and I want to hear that story,” TJ told her as we both downed Vodka shots.

“Never have I ever had a crush on another member of a mob,” I say handing TJ the hot sauce.

“I haven’t Hayley, I haven’t had a yet crush,” She told me.

We finished our game and turned in for the night all of us doing our own individual tasks. That was until Lizzie came and saw me about TJ.

“I’m worried about her, it’s nearly the one-year anniversary of Robin’s death. I think we should do something about it. Either take her somewhere in memory of him or try to distract her from it,” Lizzie said standing in my doorway.

“Remember at the funeral she said she cherished the memory of going to McDonald’s in time square with him when they were 8 and first came to New York, maybe we could go there with some of her friends,” I told her looking at her through my mirror.

“Who should we invite?” Lizzie asked, “I mean obviously Sofia and Millie, maybe Mia, Emily and Lily?”

“What about her new friend from school? The one she has a school project with?” I suggested.

“Maybe, I’ll have Mr. T look into him, just to make sure there’s nothing too bad hiding in his closet. You can never be too sure with these things,” Liz said, “Maybe you should rethink your stance on Stan.”

“Maybe, you should reconsider Chris’s offer,” I told her.

“OK, so can we agree no more boy talk, lyubit',” Lizzie said to me moving toward me and away from the door.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked her.

“I’d prefer to not talk and maybe do something else instead,” She smirked.

“Can you two please shut your door! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANY OF THIS!” TJ shouted from her room.

“OK!” I shouted getting up to shut the door.

“Can I ask what happened next Ms. Atwell? Or has it disappeared from your memory as well?”

“What happened next is strictly between me and Ms. Olsen, God rest her soul and may it not burn in hell with those monsters that did this to her. But I’m sure you can assume what happened next.”

“I’d like to hear the words come from your mouth.”

“You sound like her, but instead of words she preferred to hear something else from me.”

“That’ll be all for know please Ms. Atwell,” The judge told me.

“But he wanted to know what happened next your honour and that requires a bit of foul language that may make you a bit uncomfortable.”

POV Chris

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“Not much admittedly, I was on a bit of a bender. You see I was just dumped by my betrothed thingy that Robert set up years ago to keep the peace when the Holland’s moved to New York. Meant to be a part of a peace treaty me and some other unfortunate soul were meant to marry into the Barnes’ as a show of peace.”

“Did this end with the events that unfolded?”

“No, it didn’t. Enough members survived for a need for the treaty.”

“Except they replaced me with Sebastian.”

“Just tell us your story.”

“Hit me again,” Sebastian told me as we played cards.

“We’re playing go fish Seb,” I told him.

“I know, I meant another beer,” He said.

“Sorry.”

“You seem distracted. What did Robert say?”

“The reason I’m Elizabeth’s liaison is I’m meant to marry her and one of the brothers is meant to marry Jean’s granddaughter. And from the age range, I was given of her it sounds likely that Paddy will be drawn into this life after all. And I’m meant to tell Nikki but she terrifies me.”

“She is a scary woman when it comes to protecting her children, especially Paddy.”

“She thought she could save his soul but very clearly she was wrong. I knew Dominic and Robert were up to no good in all of their meetings.”

“It gets worse. Robert killed the girl’s twin brother with his own hands. She was told he died of cancer which he did have but it didn’t kill him.”

“Robert killed a child with cancer because he thought he was a threat, that’s just cold even for him.”

“What was cold of me?” Robert asked coming into the kitchen taking one of the beers from the fridge to hand to Sebastian and another one for himself.

“We were talking about your plans for me and the Barnes girl.”

“She’s coming over tomorrow, it’s a bit of a study date. Hopefully, they don’t kill each other that would put a damper on my plans,” Robert said to us sitting on one of the stools at the bar.

“Why do your plans involve the love lives of two teenagers, isn’t that a bit weird even for you?” Sebastian asked him.

“Maybe but not here I get to say what’s weird and what’s not. Maybe you’d know the feeling if you stayed in Romania a little longer than you did.”

“OK, that’s enough Robert. It’s too much even for you.”

“You seem to have forgotten your place here Evans. As soon as you are in charge you can change how things are but until then I make the rules and Dominic made that deal to save what was left of his family and their business,” Robert spat at me.

Right, the destruction of the Holland Mafia, the event that lead to Robert becoming one of the most powerful men in the world. The events that took place in 2004. London was in term oil there were fights on the streets between the Holland and the Barnes Families until August when Dominic was losing he decided that instead of lose the little bit of power and control he had left he was going to strike a deal with the Barnes Mafia in an attempt to save his own life and the life of his boys. Though through my conversations with Elizabeth I doubt that anything would have happened to the boys other than they’d have been taken into the family fold and been brought up outside of the mob. He used that power to make a deal his yet to be born child would eventually marry the youngest Barnes. He didn’t tell his wife or his boys. He then used this deal to bargain for his escape to New York where the last few of his men joined with Robert’s giving him more power in exchange for protection.

“Fine but that doesn’t make it OK for this to be happening. Any of this,” I said.

“Maybe but what we do isn’t moral it’s a business based of people doing immoral things and if you can’t handle that I can and will arrange for your early retirement.”

“No thank you, Robert,” I said through gritted teeth while he left the room.

“We should tell the kid. Or Nikki maybe that could be a way around this whole thing,” Seb said once we checked that Robert was out of earshot.

“I’m pretty sure that we should tell the kids and Nikki at the same time, you never know maybe the girl will have the guts to kill Robert or at least hurt him,” I told him.

“If only she would. It would make life much easier for us,” He said looking around, “Now tell me about this Elizabeth character does she seem nice or like she’ll shoot you next time you enter her office?”

“Both if that’s possible. She seems like if I say one wrong thing or make one wrong move I’m going to end up in the Hudson. But I saw her with her I want to say niece the other day in central park and she seemed so calm and sweet.”

“She has a niece?”

“I looked into it and not really the kid refers to Elizabeth as aunt and lives with her but she’s Jean’s granddaughter.”

“So not her sisters’ kid?”

“No, they seem to have disappeared off the grid. They haven’t been spotted in 5 years apparently.”

“How have they managed that in today’s tech-driven world? And how did you get all this beer? Robert doesn’t own the beer trade in New York.”

“I honestly have no clue. And Elizabeth gave it to me as a peace offering for the first day on the job as her liaison, apparently, they’re the ones that managed to get almost all of the alcohol trade in NYC. Tip-off before t-total America.”

 POV TJ

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“That was an interesting week for sure, we got contacted by two ghosts, I had a study session with Paddy and I nearly shot Tom Holland.”

“You shot a gun?”

“Oh god no I despise the things, I nearly shot him with a bow that I had in my possession for PE class. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it sounds. Yes, I actually hit him but it was his hair that got hurt and his ego but that could take a beating and still be too large.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. That thing was way too big just because Robert thought he should be his next in line.”

“So have you actually read Little Women?” I asked Paddy as I sat on his bedroom floor.

“First, you know you can sit on a chair. Secondly, I am almost done with it,” He said pointing to the chair opposite to him.

“Yes I know I can but I don’t want to. So I’m going to sit here on the floor and start working on the project while you finish reading it,” I told him opening my computer to start working through the list of tasks Paddy’s father had set out for us.

“Cool.”

After about an hour of working in silence, there was a knock on the door, followed by a woman pocking her head through the door.

“Hey, Pads do you and your friend want a snack?” The ginger-haired woman asked.

“Yes?” He said more as a question to me.

“Sure,” I said to her smiling.

“Thanks, Mum,” Paddy said as I turned back to my computer before I heard his voice go from that of a normal teenage boy to one that grew up in a family of mobsters, “What the hell do you want Chris?”

“I wanted to tell you two and your mother something I found out from your father and Robert. Well, actually from Elizabeth but it has to do with Dominic and Robert,” Chris said as I turned towards him.

“Why didn’t aunt Lizzie tell me if she wanted me to know, Christopher?” I spoke.

“Aunt Lizzie?” Paddy asked.

“Probably for your own protection but I don’t care about that. As long as you don’t die I can get away with anything to do with you,” Chris told me looking directly into my eyes.

“You underestimate my aunt, she’ll kill you if you get to close. She’s a sweetheart though,” I told him.

“Hey – Chris,” Paddy’s mum said voice changing instantly.

“Nicola. I have some news for all three of you.”

“Where does you shooting Tom come into this?”

“I’m about to get there.”

“Go ahead.”

After hearing the new Chris had to say Nicola went after her husband and I went in search of Robert Downey Jr. to kill followed by a puppy-like Paddy. I happened to have a bow and some arrows with me from PE which I took with me on this search. I did come across Robert with some of his close associates, mainly Paddy’s oldest brother, Tom.

“What the fucking hell Robert! When you said our families made peace all those years ago I didn’t think it meant with a freaking arranged marriage! That is the cruellest thing you have ever done and I am counting murdering my twin brother because you saw him and me as threats to your family! Well, Downey I’m here to tell you, you’ve just started a war you can’t win because even if you survive, all this won’t, neither will your legacy. Because the truth will come out whether or not you admit it is the truth. See you in hell asshole,” I stated drawing back the string on the bow and aimed at the table and Tom’s hair, meeting my targets before swirling around and walking toward Hayley’s car in the driveway leaving Paddy standing there staring at his brothers.

I overheard him say, “I should go back and finish my homework.”

“I got your bags from Chris. You need to get out of that English class and maybe that school,” Hayley said as I sat in her car and she took off.

“Or you need Jesus, maybe come to church once in a while kid,” Lizzie said through the phone.

“Or maybe I need someone to tell me the fucking truth from all of you,” I said grabbing my headphones and putting my on and staring out the window. Mr. T is the facts person in the mob if you need to find out anything you go to him and he’ll have the answer 24 hours later. He was the one that lead the charge against the Holland’s all those years ago.

When we arrived back home I stormed into the building getting into the elevator, “I’m going to see Mr. T he’s got more answers than either of you. Including one that I asked him to dig up yesterday.”

“Be home soon. It’s no longer safe for you in this city. You’re coming to church on Sunday. It proves your not actually going to hurt Robert at least not yet,” Hayley said.

“OK Hales,” I told her getting out of the Lift on the floor below Hayley.

“Hey, I heard you were coming over. And I got your answers,” Mr. T said as I knocked on the door.

“And apparently a tiger,” I said as I stepped into the apartment.

“Looking after it for a friend. But in answer to your first question. It’s true you’re suspicions were correct. Sadly for your brother and your mother,” He said.

“Sadder for his wife and my genetics. Now, what can you tell me about how to take down the Downey Mafia. I need to destroy them,” I said with what I hoped was the stone-cold look of a killer.

“Happily,” He responded, handing me a drink from his fridge.

 POV Sebastian

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“Nothing that I’d tell you.”

“Please enlighten us, Mr. Stan, it’ll make this a lot easier for you down the road.”

“Maybe but it’s between me and the people involved not you and the internet. So I’d rather stay silent on the matter.”

“So she tried to shoot you?” I asked Tom.

“No, I think she just missed Robert.”

“Trust me if she wanted to hit you she would’ve. I’ve seen her trophies in Elizabeth’s office. She was just trying to scare you all,” Chris spoke up.

“Well, I hope next time she doesn’t aim to kill because I’d rather go out with a bullet than an arrow,” Tom said grabbing a beer.

“Well, then don’t piss off TJ or her family they tend to do things the old fashioned way,” Chris smiled into his beer.

“That’s interesting. How exactly did you know that?” I asked him.

“I have my ways, Stan. Now Holland what are you going to do about your brother?” Chris asked.

“That comes down to my parents. And I’m on standby in case mum needs a body disposed of.”

“Well, good luck with all that. We have bigger issues,” I said looking at the fridge.

“What? Out of beer?” Tom asked.

“Not quite but the only way we can get more is to ask Elizabeth or go through her and help aid her.”

“Well, before we inevitably go to war with the Barnes family, who are objectively older, wiser and more powerful, let’s get shitfaced and ruin our aim tomorrow!” I said.

“Cheers! Here’s to getting shitfaced by illegal means!” Tom said.

“Dude. Just speak normally.”

“Can I ask if you figured out how they figured out the outlawing of alcohol?”

“Probably, Hayley Atwell, she’s a lawyer at one police plaza and worked in Washington for a bit,” Paddy said grabbing Tom’s beer.

“Rough night?”

“Really your asking that after everything that’s happened today?”

“Fair enough, kid. Why don’t you join us?”

“You let a minor get drunk?”

“After everything you’ve heard today about these events that’s your question? If I let a minor get drunk? Of course, I let a minor get drunk! He just found out he’s betrothed to someone he has a school project with and he just met! Who may or may not be related to the people that killed his family members. And you ask if I let him have a beer?”

“Yes, Mr. Stan that is what I’m asking.”

“Well then. The answer is yes and I’m aware it’s illegal in two forms but I did it anyway.”

— sequel: puzzle piece | k.s.j

pairing:. singledad!k.s.j × reader

synopsis:. starting a new life, it felt difficult, especially without the help of your once beloved, and now a burden of a child. But, when an unexpected, yet hopeful, plot twist takes your life into a completely new direction, you find yourself enjoying youth again. It happens to be that not only you've found happiness in a man so similar to you, but a shoulder to grow old with.

word count:. 13.1k

genre(s):. romance, angst

warning(s):. strong language, mean mochi

song rec(s):. here with me - Susie Suh, moon - Jin

♡ A/N:. please read the prologue, "Paper Hearts," first to understand the story better. Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoy! ♡

It was way later in the evening of the shopping spree, that you reached back home with Hoseok, and sat down in the living room to explain to him about what had transpired back in that shop. Putting down the bag in which the clothes for your little one were kept, you gestured him to sit down, and he did so without responding. You were not sure how to explain him how the whole deal had went, really. All you knew was that some stranger had just offered to pay for clothes you had wanted to buy, and then you exchanged contacts so you could pay him back, and then he was gone like he had ever existed.

You thought about the whole ordeal, your expressions constantly changing, which made Hoseok laugh. "Are you not going to tell me about how you got those clothes without paying any money or what?" he asked, on the verge of chuckling him again, when you rolled your eyes and spoke up. "Yeah, yeah. Now this might sound weird, but…" you took a deep breath and thought over everything again. It was certainly weird.

Weirder than weird, it was outright stupid. What if you were someone who ripped the guy off? You knew you weren't, he was right this time, but if he went around paying for everyone's stuff like that and offering them his number, you were sure he'd find a rotten apple here or there.

And yet, he had been so assured, giving you his number and trusting you to pay him back somehow. You were confused by his mindset; what if you got close to him only to rob him or something? Or if you called him over and murdered him? Who'd take care of his child, Haneul? His reactions made no sense to you. You knew you weren't a murderer, you knew you wouldn't ever steal from someone, but how could he trust a mere stranger that easily? He didn't know you. Or in that case, what you were capable of.

You sighed. "Well, there was this guy - what was his name? - ah yes, Kim Seokjin. And he was there with his son, Haneul. And he was in the line behind me. So, when you didn't come in time to pay for the clothes I had bought," which was because he had to deal with Jimin and Minhee, "the feisty employee yelled at me, and then he came to the rescue, paid for my clothes, gave me his number so I could pay him back, and left, since he couldn't stay longer because his child was sick," you explained in a single breath, making Hoseok look at you in confusion.

"Wait, wait, wait. A stranger paid for you?" he frowned, tilting his head. You were questioning the same exact thing. "Apparently… yes. And now I've got to pay him back. That's it, I suppose," you shrugged, still surprised and weirded out by the whole situation. You still couldn't believe how naive the guy was - who'd pay for a stranger? "You think he's really like that, or did he have... ulterior motives or something?" Hoseok asked, eyeing you worriedly. You giggled at his protective reaction.

"I guess we'll see."

Days had gone by since the encounter took place. Since then, you had been texting Seokjin a lot more often, and you had gotten to know him better. He was just a little older than you, and he had a lot of likes that matched up with yours. Moreover, you both had an interest in acting, and when you told him that you had a bachelor's in acting and performing, and found out he did too, you were astonished at the similarities.

Deciding that Haneul was feeling a bit better, Seokjin and you chose a date to meet up at a coffee shop, which was how'd you pay him back - paying for his coffee.

You had originally denied the idea, for it was totally unfair and a coffee would cost much less than clothes, but Seokjin had been stubborn, and he and you had became good friends already, so he took the chance to see you again.

Seokjin also being… well, Seokjin, decided that on the Saturday he and you'd be meeting up, he'd come to pick you from Hoseok's house. Initially, you lost your mind at the thought and told him that Hoseok was home, he could drop you off, but once again, he didn't listen to a single protest.

"Look, Y/n! I am coming to pick you up and I rest my case," you heard his voice blow through the speakers of your phone. You groaned, not able to hold back the frustration. "Please, Y/n," the male pleaded, stretching your name, to which you responded by sighing. "But Hoseok is at home, and you know, I have really had enough," you stopped yourself from going further, afraid you'd hurt his feelings.

What you had meant to say was, you have really had enough of depending on others for things you could do on your own. But then again, you couldn't support yourself at all. Either way, your were taking help from a friend. You sighed heavily, letting your frustration escape you. "What do you mean?" you could practically hear him frowning. You clicked your tongue. "It's nothing," you replied, going over everything again and again in your head. You chewed on your bottom lip, and then finally decided to accept his offer. "Fine. Come pick me up."

After all, what did you have to lose?

Taking one last look at your outfit, which consisted of a light brown turtle neck, and some high jeans, you went down the stairs to say your goodbyes to Hoseok. "You better introduce me to this guy soon! You two seem to be bonding," you giggled at his comment, covering your mouth. "I will, I will! I'll talk to him about the whole sleepover thing too, okay?" you said, giving Hoseok a tight hug.

Hoseok, who had been trying his hardest to lift up your mood, decided that it'd be better if he got your whole group of highschool friends together, and you all had a sleepover. Recently, after he had found out about how your friendship was progressing, he couldn't help but ask you to invite him over. You happily agreed with his suggestion, so today would be the perfect chance to see if he was free. You still had your doubts, he was a parent, and of course, it would be very hard for him to have a clear schedule. Still, it was worth a try to ask.

It was as if time ran in its perfect course, because the moment you had finished saying the last of your 'see you soon's and 'have fun's, the doorbell rang. "Okay then! I'll see you later!" exclaiming that, you opened the door to be greeted by the sight of Seokjin again.

He wore his cute smile, the one which had made you feel completely lost back at that store. It almost made you lost in thought again. That, paired with his casual outfit, and his hair styled to one side, with a bit of it falling over his face - it all was a little out of the blue, because you couldn't take your eyes off of him for a second. It wasn't until he started waving his hand in front of you that you had to sink back into reality.

"Hello~? Earth to Y/n?" Seokjin frowned, blinking rapidly. You abruptly were thrown back to the doorstep, and started to stammer furiously. "O-Oh my God, I'm s-so sorry!" you put your hands in front of your chest as a defense, mentally beating yourself up, but he only responded with a light chuckle. "You better not space out on me again till I get that coffee."

To be honest, you were a little conflicted that you were paying him back with Hoseok's money, and since Hoseok had strictly forbidden you to do any heavy work while you were pregnant, you couldn't even find yourself a job. But maybe it was for the best; you should take care of yourself and your baby for now. Taking extra responsibilities would only be a burden to your health.

Entering the car, you sat down next to the driver's seat, in which Seokjin sat. He started the car, and before you knew it, you were off on your way. "We could've walked there, you know," you said, staring out the window to be mesmorised by the bright scenery outside. Seokjin's eyes left the road for a moment to look at you, before he fixated them back. "We could have. But you're clearly not in the best position to, if you know what I mean," he shrugged slightly.

You looked at him and his steady focus on the road and the cars ahead. "What do you-?" you tilted your head, confused by his vague statement. He groaned, though his eyes stayed in the same direction as always. "Y/n! Honestly! How stupid can you be?" he frowned, clearly displeased by the fact that he had to explain it to you. "Hey!I'm not stupid, you," you were about to call him stupid, but he had gone and interrupted you by then.

"I meant… I wouldn't want a hormonal lady screeching and pulling at her hair - or even mine - because she's tired of walking. I'm too handsome for that," he explained, his voice strangely calm, though his expression conveyed something else. Flustered or angered, you couldn't put your finger on it. You give him an 'ohh' as a response, nodding your head slightly in agreement, before you thought for it a bit more.

"Wait a second! Who are you calling a hormonal lady?!" you frown, about to jump at him, before you realised you're in a car. Seokjin took a moment to calm down, before he addressed you again. "Geez! You're going to get us both killed, Y/n, and wouldn't it be depressing if we died all because we wanted some coffee from Starbucks?"

Getting out of the car when you two finally reached the place, you caught up to Seokjin, surprising yourself at the pace you could run. You decided upon sitting outside, while Seokjin took the money you had offered, and went to get your coffee along with his. It was a while, and you waited as time trickled by. Every time the door would open, you'd get excited to see Seokjin stumble out, but everytime it was a let down.

The blood in your veins stopped moving, you almost became a frozen mess, when you saw someone familiar come out of the shop.

Oh, wasn't it a fateful occurrence - Park Jimin.

If you could die from seeing someone, you'd be dead on the spot, but the astonishment didn't end. In fact, it only got bigger. You could pull out your eyeballs at the moment - Jimin and Seokjin were talking. They were actually talking. You couldn't believe it. Why? Maybe because they stumbled across each other in the shop? Did they know each other? Your heart was racing, and at the same time, it had stopped beating from the shock of realising what had just transpired.

Beckoning Seokjin over by gestures, you took a deep breath as he handed you over your frappuccino, with a quizzical look. "Are you okay?" he raised a brow, his voice lined with worry. You shook your head as you took a sip of your drink, trying to calm yourself, but the coffee only made more adrenaline rush through your body. "Okay, tell me, how do you know that man you were talking to?" you asked, your brows knitting together.

He looked a little taken aback, but he looked around himself in confusion. Jimin had left already - he hadn't noticed you and you were more than glad for that. "The blond man?" he asked, tilting his head innocently. "Yes." He looked at you in suspicion, before sighing.

"I work at his company."

The frappuccino almost fell from your hand - you almost spat out the drink that was in your mouth. You threw a coughing fit, trying to get the coffee down your throat. You didn't even realise when Seokjin had gotten up and ran to your seat, running his down your back. It was for a few seconds before you felt better. You took deep breaths.

Seokjin sat back down on his seat, staying quiet. He figured he wasn't one to question the situation much, but you looked at him in such an expecting way, he had to ask the thought on his mind.

"And how do you know him?"

You fumbled with your hair, then took a sip of the drink to busy yourself, though nothing could divert the attention. You had brought this hell over yourself and you'd have to answer it. You bit your lip, then sighed heavily.

"He was… my ex-boyfriend." The statement was enough to send Seokjin into a shock. His eyes widened, and the usual, cute smile that you compared to an alpaca had vanished, completely. Instead, his posture remained frozen until he gained the ability to speak again.

"Don't tell me," he said in a small voice, struggling to go further. "And the one… who… well, got me pregnant," you said in a very quiet whisper, proving his accusations to be true. "You're… single? B-But... why?" you guessed it was a good time to speak up about your past, because it was obvious by the expression on his face that Seokjin wouldn't put down the matter until he had been given closure.

If it was someone else, you would've groaned, cried your eyes out, or some other hysterical reaction, but with Seokjin, you often felt a lot more comfortable, despite only knowing him for a while. Taking the opportunity to talk about your history with the blond male, you parted your lips to speak.

"Well…" you sighed again, unable to bottle up your frustration, "he cheated on me. I found out about it on the day I had came home to tell him about the whole… pregnancy thing. We had been dating for years. It's been a week since then," you said slowly, your voice a small, sorrowful whisper. He stayed quiet for a moment. It felt like there was no one sitting with you, and yet he was still there. For a moment, you thought he'd stand up and leave for some reason, but he didn't. And for some reason, again, you were grateful.

"I'm so sorry. Did the day we meet… the day you broke up?" he frowned, he was fumbling with the sleeve of his own shirt, obviously uncomfortable and brought down by the situation. "The day after, yeah." You took another sip of your drink, careful not to cough again. "Don't be so depressed!" you giggled, looking at the little expression he made. It was adorable, and you couldn't stop yourself from laughing even more. "Ah, it reminds me of my own tale too," he chuckled, his laugh hollow, taking a sip of his iced coffee. "How so?"

"Well, after Haneul was born, my girlfriend decided that… she didn't want him anymore. Obviously, I did. I love him. He is... my life," you nodded in agreement to his words. Your child was your life too - literally. The only reason you had started to live again.

Being reminded of how much your child had impacted your life, you couldn't help but remember how toxic your relationship with the child's biological father was. Most often than not, it was only you doing the hard work and trying to make the bond stronger. Most often than not, it was Jimin trying to show you signs that he didn't love You, but he could never really be straight-forward enough. And you, blind in love, most often than not, regarded his mistakes as perfection, and the signs he didn't love you went ignored.

You'd see the distance in his eyes as exhaustion from work, his calls that he'd be late as factual information, not excuses, and his words of confirmation when he replied back with an 'I love you' as real. But it was all a hoax, and now that you looked back on it, you were ashamed.

He had became the center of your Universe, the only reason you wanted to live, and the reason your life was so bright. Without him, you thought you'd die. But you hadn't - when you had broken up, you had wilted, but with a little sunshine, you had made it through. You were not with a liar anymore. And that is what mattered most. It had made you acknowledge that a fake could never last long.

"So… she drew herself to the conclusion that we had to break up. We did. She left." You could hear the emptiness in his voice. Every little word had a hole in it, a gaping, widening hole, that left scars on Seokjin. You stared at him, listening to his words with a somber melancholy playing at your lips.

"I'm really sorry for all that," you lowered yourself into your seat, deciding to change the topic. Trying to choose appropriate words, you flustered to come up with something. "Um, so… how's Haneul now?" you tilted your head at Seokjin, who gave a light smile. You figured he still hadn't healed yet, even after years. There was a bitter dismissal in his eyes. It flashed across for a bit, and even if he tried to hide it behind his pretty smile, you could see define the shadow that his past girlfriend had cast over him.

"Ah, Haneul. He's better. My cousin offered to take care of him, while I met up with you." His smile faltered as his sentence ended, and he took a sip of his coffee again, busying himself so he wouldn't have to take anyone else's pity. He hoped you understood his actions, because you went through something similar, but he'd never know. And it was better to be safe than sorry.

Mustering up everything you got to make the situation lighter, a thought sprang into your mind. "So… I told you about my friend, Hoseok, right?" to your question, Seokjin nodded. "Well, he was asking if you could... join for a sleepover we're having, this Friday? Us highschool friends are organising a fun, little reunion. I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun, and… um… you can bring Haneul too, if you'd like! I'm sure he'll have fun too," you gave him a nervous smile, noticing his every reaction, and how a small smile crept over to his face in approval.

"I'd love to. I'll bring Haneul too." His reply made you ecstatic. Out of excitement, before you could even think of what you were doing, your hand was holding his, and you squeezed it appreciatively. "Thank you, so, so, so much! I'll make sure you won't regret it."

That was where you parted ways that afternoon - Seokjin drove you back home, and giving him a hug, you watched as his car sped down the road, until its distant silhouette disappeared. You opened the door, taking out the key Hoseok had given to you. The action reminded you a little too much of that unfortunate day last weekend.

You stepped inside, and as per usual, you announced your arrival as soon as you entered loudly.  "I'm home!" you exclaimed, making Hoseok shout back through the living room. "Welcome back."

You ran to the living room, then sat down next to Hoseok on the couch, hugging your knees and looking at him while he watched the television. "I saw Seokjin," you said, expecting that he'd ask you about more details like he did back on the day of the unexpected meeting, and you were not wrong. He turned to you with such an expression, that almost reminded you of that one lenny-face you saw on the internet, that was smirking like there was no tomorrow, but just as Hoseok was himself, he had made it even more absurd. "Tell me everything."

At his response, you rolled your eyes, feeling pity for the television show that was left forgotten. "So, apparently… he knows Jimin - no - he works under him," Hoseok's eyes widened, enough for him to pull his eyeballs out, for which you rolled your eyes into oblivion. "You're not serious!" at your serious expression, he chuckled In disbelief. "Small world!" he exclaimed, shrugging. You turned your head to the show.

"I was also going to ask you, do we invite Jimin?" your brows furrowed, you turned back to Hoseok. "To the reunion?" you asked, barely able to keep your anger at the question. Yes, he might have been in your circle of friends before he had gotten too popular for all of you, and you, dumb as you were, had started chasing after him but still, you weren't about to call the person who ruined your life to a sleepover that was supposed to help you get it back together. Hoseok could only nod meekly. You groaned. "For fuck's sake, no. Isn't that the worst idea ever?" you frowned.

"Well… yes, but… I didn't tell Taehyung of the break-up or cheating thing yet because you know how he is… didn't want to worry him… so… he might…" Hoseok stopped, when he saw the smoke coming out of your ears, your face red with fury, your knuckles white from pushing them into the couch. "You what?!" you exclaimed, fumbling to take out your phone and call Taehyung.

Getting it out, you dialled a number you hadn't contacted in ages, but who cared? You had to stop Taehyung from making a stupid mistake before he made one, and if he did, consider your reunion done for.

Getting up as the ringtone buzzed in your ear, you impatiently waited for the boy to pick up his mobile phone. You didn't speak until his deep voice was heard by you, and after that, you immediately started shouting, a little part of you hoping you wouldn't intimidate the poor boy.

"Kim Taehyung, tell me truthfully, did you tell Jimin about the reunion already?"

"If you're talking about that, then yes I did, no need for thanking me, I already know I'm-"

"Oh my fucking God, Taehyung, you weren't supposed to, you idiot!" you screamed, letting Hoseok know your worst suspicions were correct. "Was I not? Ah, why, Y/n-ah?" you could hear him frowning from the other side of the phone. "Because the…" you bit your lip, telling yourself mentally to stop cursing, "Jimin cheated on me." Oh, and also impregnated you. But maybe you'd tell that story some other day. You could hear a small gasp escape his lips. "I… I didn't know, I'm so sorry… Hobi-hyung didn't tell me that… I'm so incredibly sorry… do you want me to come over right now?" the rage that went through you told you to blow up on the spot, but you tried to calm yourself. The epinephrine that ran through your veins was enough to make you go crazy, you wanted to teach Taehyung a good lesson, but none of it was his fault and you had to understand that fact.

He was not informed on the matter, none of it was his fault. You sighed heavily. You'd deal with Jimin later. "It's okay, Taehyungie. You don't have to. And I forgive you. I'll take care of this, it's fine. Have a good day… and let's meet up this coming Friday, hm?" you smiled a little, which even surprised you, because your anger was beyond imagination at the point, but your ability to still smile settled the storm inside you. "Yeah… I'm still sorry. See you then." The call ended.  A soft sigh escaped your lips. Well, another problem to take care of.

"So… what do we do now?"

"Let's pray and just hope Jimin doesn't show up at the door this Friday."

That night, feeling bored, you decided to text Seokjin. You hoped you weren't disturbing him, but then again, even if you were, you loved annoying him so you didn't care. And then again, he'd probably be really annoyed because you were texting him at one in the morning, laying on your bed, your legs basically everywhere, since you couldn't sleep.

[Y/N]: I'm bored :(

To your great astonishment, his reply was instantaneous. Why was he not sleeping?

Seokjin : Do you have nothing to do at 1 in the morning except for texting me? Honestlyyy

[Y/N]: You're the one who's awake at 1 in the morning! What were you doing?

Seokjin : i just put Haneul to bed. He wouldn't sleep until I played his favourite videogame with him and then told him another story

[Y/N]: That's adorableeeeee! What fairytale did you read him this time? ;D

Seokjin : I didn'ttttttt. It was an alien story

[Y/N]: Ya, ya. I bet my feet you probs read him Cinderella and you're just too ashamed to admit that you still like to read stories of princesses

Seokjin : That's a serious accusation. ;( my Haneul doesn't like stories of pretty pink princesses

[Y/N]: I highly doubt that. Anyway..

You debated on whether to tell him of Jimin's arrival to the sleepover or not. But hey, maybe he wouldn't come, right? It was unlikely he'd come to the same sleepover as his ex-girlfriend who he cheated on, right? You hoped so. You weren't going to contact him. It was a matter of your pride, anyway.

Seokjin : Anyway?

[Y/N]: Anyway, I was thinking to give you a nickname and I think I found one.

Seokjin : What?? What is it?

[Y/N]: Princess Jin

Seokjin : That's the worst nickname if I ever heard one! Why do you have to abuse me like that? :(

That night had gotten a-hundred-and-ten-times better because of the response alone. You wouldn't be acting dramatic if you said you chatted for the whole night. You really did. Time just passed by, and you didn't notice till it was five in the morning. At some point, you had started to video-call him too, and then you'd just laugh along with him as he desperately tried to explain his dad jokes. It was at fifteen minutes or so past five a.m, that your eyelids grew heavy, and you drowsily fell asleep, then were awaken by Seokjin, who you had now decided to call Jin for short, when he decided to compliment how cute your 'sleepy expression' was.

You shushed him and decided upon ending the call, hence calling it a day.

By Wednesday, all you two were doing were having little, small talks through texts, because Seokjin had recently gotten a lot of paperwork to take care of, making him very busy. You had asked why he didn't pursue acting, but he simply denied it by saying that he wasn't feeling ready for the spotlight just yet, as he had a child to take care of, and pretty much no one (except for his cousin, who'd sometimes help if she wasn't busy) to help him take care of Haneul.

That, and also the fact that success wasn't always guaranteed in the profession of acting, and he lacked the amount of confidence he needed. Basically, he wasn't prepared as of yet for the life of an actor. So he decided to do an office job instead, which Jimin had been very generous with (as you had expected to hear). Since Seokjin didn't have a degree in engineering, an office job was hard to find, but an online application led him to a high-income job, which was apparently under the supervision of your ex-boyfriend.

Seeing Seokjin share all of this, you came to realise how deep a person's life is, that every human on the planet had their own problems, relationships, responsibilities and so much more to take care of. It made you smile, seeing how Seokjin was doing everything solo, yet he was doing well. Of course, he wouldn't mind company, and it would be better if he did have it, but who'd do that?

His smile made you feel lose you were flying to cloud nine, and his laugh made you laugh. It was adorable, and his personality was the most purest thing you had heard of. You could hear him ramble everyday, and still not get bored. Instead, you'd be willing to hear even more. He was… fascinating. You loved him. Or well… you loved his personality. That's what you told yourself, at the very least. Sometimes, at some of his compliments, your cheeks would burn so red, your heart would race so fastly, your head would feel so blank, and yet so filled with thoughts, that you couldn't explain it, even if you wanted to.

He had made you forget your past. He made you learn that… yes, your past was a part of you. But it did not define who you were meant to be. That was your choice alone, and you were living by the lesson he had taught you.

Not to mention, you had learnt to live. Not exist, but live. Whenever Hoseok was gone for his work, you'd stay home, cook, sing to your baby, and watch television. Whatever you wanted, you'd do. Not because someone was ordering you, but because you were doing it for someone's happiness - happiness that was finally not dependent on someone else's - happiness that had recently started to matter. Yours. And maybe Seokjin's too. He'd told you that he wanted to see you smile, always.

And you'd be lying if you didn't mention his flirty jokes.

They were getting a little out of hand, yes, but you loved them anyway. And who were to stop you, if you said two could play that game?

On Wednesday, since Seokjin's cousin was out of town, and his co-leagues, who he mentioned were persuasive (and to be truthful, they'd force him a lot too) as hell, had forced him to have a drink or two with them after work. He couldn't come home early enough, and had tasked you with taking care of Haneul. You basically spent the whole day at his home, which was quite cosy if you were to be honest with yourself.

You arrived just in time, after telling Hoseok, at Seokjin's house before he left for work. You'd be spending the day with Haneul, and you reckoned it'd be fun.

It was. Wishing Seokjin a goodbye, you shut the door, and the two of you began playing instantly when the little boy woke up. He was vocal, and he wasn't afraid to tell what he wanted either. But he never behaved rudely once, which, considering that you were pretty much a stranger to him, was a slight astonishment, but you went along with it. You were never one to question life too much, anyway.

His cute, little requests, and fun games were something that could never bore you, even if you were to play with him for a month or two straight, you wouldn't get bored. Like his father, he was always unpredictable, and quite intelligent too. He had tried memorizing some dad jokes from Seokjin as well, which made you melt and 'aww' in ways you had thought were imaginable. He would try to tell you some, but would mostly always fail.

And just like Jin, you got along with him well too.

It was about eight when you tucked the little one into bed, and making sure he was asleep, you quietly closed the door to his little room. He had tried to convince you that he wanted to play more, but at one point, you did have to be a little strict.

You waited for Seokjin in desperation that he'd come soon, sitting on the couch as you fumbled with hair strands. You were quiet worried, but you took a deep breath, and the door opened, for what seemed like a millennia later.

"Jin!" you got up, but seeing his disheveled creature came as a rude shock to you. His hair was all messy, and his face was all hazy and distanced, his clothes a bit poked with here and there, but still intact. At first, it almost was like he had been in a fight, taking support of the front door, but you soon realised he was drunk.

Had his co-leagues given him a little too much liquor? You sighed, jumping forward and putting his arm around your neck so he'd have support, since he looked imbalanced. You shut the door behind yourself. "Y/n-ah," Seokjin whined as you tried to move, but with his heavy arm around you, the action was practically impossible.

"Kim Seokjin, for God's sake, atleast try to walk! I know you're probably drunk as hell, but still!" you exclaimed, but made sure that it wouldn't reach Haneul. You tried to walk again, but his weight wouldn't let you.

You dragged yourself to the couch, him alongside you. This made you realise what a victim you were in the situation. Taking care of his kid, cooking food, and now carrying his drunk ass? You were pregnant but no one took care of you. You felt a little bad for yourself.

You plopped him down on the couch before sinking down yourself. Looking at his wrecked figure, and the dreamy expression it held, you couldn't help but let your breath be taken away for a bit. For some awkward reason, it made your cheeks heat up. "Jin, are you… okay?" it was a rhetorical question, but that was the most you could ask. "Do you want water?" you asked softly, running a hand through his silky, black hair. He purred like a cat at your touch, making you even more flustered. So was that a yes or no? You weren't very sure.

His arm, which was laying here or there previously, wrapped itself around your waist, making the distance between your bodies even smaller. You tried to get out of his grasp, though however he was drunk, he clearly didn't like the idea of you escaping, so now you were stuck.

But even in that simple moment, you couldn't help but admire his beautiful features. His plump, pink lips, his smile, his hair, his eyes, which were shut lightly for now - everything. It was devilishly handsome to you and you couldn't deny it even if you wanted to. "You're very nice, you know?" he murmured, his lips barely parting. You looked to him in confusion. "I know, Jin, but seriously! Get up and go to your bedroom," you were about to say further, going along the lines of, 'get some rest and I'll prepare for your dinner,' but he had interrupted you.

"Am I in trouble if I don't?" you didn't know what he meant, but by the grin on his handsome face, you might be getting the wrong ideas. "You… yes, y-you are!" you exclaimed at a loss for words, thanking God you had put Haneul to bed before this wreck came in.

You didn't know what you were to say. You had not carried many drunk people in your life - and you had never been particularly interesting in drinking anyway. Most of the time, you'd take care of Jimin when he drank a bit too much at times, but that was Jimin and this was Seokjin. Two different people, who had very different roles in your life.

"Bring it on."

You stared at him in confusion, almost about to punch him before you realised once more, that he was still drunk and it was the alcohol speaking, not his pretty, blunt mouth. You sighed. "Jin, I swear I'll kill you once you're sober, just…" you groaned, getting him to stand up and dragging him to his bedroom, and, this time, he listened to your commands and followed whatever you had to say.

Taking him inside, you were about to tuck him into bed too, but his arm was still around your waist. "Okay… J-Jin…" you debated on how to tell him he had to sleep, with his breath tickling the crook of your neck, chills ran down your spine. The situation seemed a lot more awkward when you pictured him in that way, and your heart only began to beat faster. Your hands, turning cold and ghostly pale from nervousness - or anticipation for what was next - you did not know.  You felt a little too vulnerable, your body against his, his arm around your waist - it all felt a little wrong.

You didn't know what caused the heat to rise to your cheeks. A thought bloomed inside of your mind, as if it was put aside for being ridiculous but was now possible - the idea of being in love with him. Were you? No matter how hard you shook yourself, told yourself that you were not, it all made sense to you. Why you'd start a smile like an idiot on an otherwise bad day, when you read his text. How'd you laugh around him a little too much, your heart would feel tugged on when he came near, or when you saw his beautiful face and just wanted to stare at it for an eternity.

Or how'd you feel warm and fuzzy with him around, how he'd make you feel safe and protected - it all came back in a circle. This exciting, warm feeling that enveloped you in its sweet embrace - love. It was a hard thing to explain, but if you were to describe it in one word, it'd be Seokjin.

And suddenly, it felt as it was all possible - like you owned the world. Looking up at him, you noticed that his eyelids were heavy, his sclera barely visible. Staring at his soft, pink lips, you couldn't look away. His cute, gentle expression that told you he was sleepy - it all made so much impact on you in a second. But you couldn't. It was all wrong, whatever you wanted to do. And not to mention, stupid. Or that's what you thought anyway, until his voice caught you off-guard.

"Taeyeon…?" it was barely inaudible - it would be if you weren't standing this close. But the name stopped your plane of thought. It was a mere whimper that made you realise how cold, and quiet the whole room was. In fact, it was chilling and dark, leaving you scared. If that fact came as an astonishment, the way he uttered a woman's name left you astounded. It sounded desperate, almost as if he was begging her to not leave him.

You shouldn't have thought of kissing him in the first place. It was stupid, and foolish to think you had any chance with a guy you had barely met, and with someone as wonderful as Seokjin. He needed someone who could fix his broken heart, not deepen the cut by being a broken person, such as yourself, themself. You wanted to hug Seokjin, because the way he sounded made you almost pity him. What hell had the poor guy been through? You wished you could've known more, but then again, you had no rights to.

You wondered why you started to fall for him anyway, when you didn't even know that he was seeing someone else. You blamed yourself for not knowing a lot. Sighing, you turned towards Seokjin, chewing on your lower lip. There were a million emotions inside you, but emptiness had never weighed heavier. It made you want to throw up, to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Your heart could barely be held in your chest, and it felt like blowing up. Never having felt such a way, you didn't know what to do. The only time you felt such empty ache was when you broke up with Jimin. You never wanted to go through it again.

And yet still, you were experiencing it. An ache so deep, it cut through you, shattering you and poisoning your body. You could barely hold Seokjin. "S-Seokjin, please," you pleaded, fumbling with the hand he had around your waist. It took a few tries, and you were about to give up and try another method, which was most likely to awake him from his drunkenness, but he let go eventually.

Lowering him to the bed, you tucked him in, pulled the blanket over him so he wouldn't get cold in this time of October, and quietly shut the door behind you. You debated on whether to get him food, and decided upon leaving it in the refrigerator so he had something to eat when he woke up. You wrote a note, telling him of the awkward incident and that you had left food for him, leaving it on the table. After completing the task, you took your leave with a heavy heart.

By the time you reached home, it was ten, and after saying your farewells to Hoseok for the night, you went to bed instantly, your eyelids heavy. You didn't notice immediately how tired you were, but you were very sleepy. A yawn escaped your lips, and with the last thought of Seokjin, you took a step into dream land, hoping that the next day would be better than the last.

Thursday went by very quickly. You did your normal work - singing, watching television, cooking, cleaning around the house and whatnot - and the day came to an end rather fast. After having dinner with Hoseok, as you both sat down in the living room to watch some dramas together, your phone ringed. You reached out to grab it from the table beside the couch, and checked to see who it was that was calling you.

"It's Seokjin," you told Hoseok, getting up and leaving to the hallway. You didn't notice when you had started calling him by his first name again, because if you were to be honest, you two were getting along well and you were on nickname-terms, but the incident yesterday just reminded you of how much distance lied between you two, albeit being so, very similar.

"What is it, Seokjin?" you asked, your tone rather cold. You didn't know why it came out like that, because you still considered him a friend, but apparently your heart thought otherwise. "I'm so sorry about yesterday!" as you expected. You sighed, already done with the conversation. At least, you didn't write about how he called out a woman's name and made you feel so little.

"It's fine." Your reply was still as cold, and you weren't sure why you were blaming the ordeal at him, because even you knew that it wasn't his fault, yet your heart made him the culprit of such emotional distance you had acquired. "Let me make it up to you, please, Y/n," you heard Seokjin as he pleaded. The heart was a naïve and biased thing, Jin. If only he understood. "It's fine, I told you," you responded, not wanting to talk about the night. It brought back bad memories.

"Please! Who knows what other, weird things I did while I was drunk? I'm so sorry," you shook your head. "What're you planning?" like you had thought. The heart really was a naïve thing. "I'm... hmm, how about this… since we're having the sleepover this Friday, let me pick you up and we'll go and grab some snacks for it?" you stayed silent. "My treat! I'll pay for everything we'll buy," you were still not fully agreeing with it. He had to pay a little more than just that for what he did to your heart. "I'll bring Haneul too, so he'll buy snacks with us as well, okay?! Happy?" you smiled, something that happened for the first time in a while, at his desperation, but also at the fact that he was bringing the little cutie along. Something inside your heart changed automatically.

"Happy. Now we have a deal, so come over at about eight, 'kay?"

"Your wish is my command."

That Friday night, Seokjin parked his car at your door, and saying goodbye to Hoseok, who was getting the living room ready for watching movies, as well as arranging the house for sleepover, you jumped out to greet Seokjin and Haneul. Sinking down next to the driver's seat, with Haneul cheerfully sitting in the passangers' seat, the three of you left towards the nearest supermarket.

Upon reaching there, you grabbed Haneul's hand excitedly and started to wander around the aisles, with Seokjin trying to follow behind you. "Yah! Y/n, slow down!" Seokjin exclaimed, barely able to catch up, but you couldn't hear him when the sight of the snacks hit you. "Jin! Stop being a slow bloke and come!" you replied back, then started to grab as many chips and other things you could, towering the bunch on Seokjin, then on yourself, and then having Haneul pick up a bottle of juice, since you weren't the biggest fan of alcohol.

Going to the counter, the moment reminded you of how you had met Seokjin in the first place. It made you smile like an idiot. "You know, this is kind of like how we met." You heard him laugh lightly. "You're right. Who'd figure that simple thing would bring us here?" he smiled softly, then reached for the counter and put all the stuff that he had been holding. You did too, and taking the bottle from Haneul, you put it on the counter. Seokjin paid, and taking the plastic bags in which the snacks had been kept, hand-in-hand with Haneul, you left for the exit.

Such little moments brought you so much happiness. You all looked like a family. It was a little ironic, you wouldn't lie. You sat down in the car, the plastic bags kept at the back with Haneul. "How many months are you gone?" the sudden question from Seokjin left you a little surprised, but you answered it, relentlessly. "About one and a half months now. Actually..." it was as if something dawned over you. Your body felt unready for the act, and you grew silent.

"Actually?"

"Hoseok told me about this test…" you bit your lip.

"What test?"

"The early gender DNA test. It's done at… I think, eight weeks in?" you answered, deep in thought. You didn't have to do it, but how far were you willing to go for your baby's gender to be revealed? You did want to know if it was a boy or girl. But the fact reminded you a little too much of Jimin. It filled you with this sudden emptiness, it was unexplainable, but it left you starving. You wanted the father to accompany you to such an occasion, but… was that even possible now?

As the silence drifted longer, you let out a heavy sigh. "You don't have to do it," you heard Seokjin say. "I know. But I want to know. But at the same time, I don't. You get what I mean?" you sighed again, feeling suddenly so down. Maybe it was because you were hormonal. Who knew? "Two more weeks, and I get to know my baby's gender. But it feels… way too early. I'm not ready," you continued. "I mean... I thought if something like this were to happen, Jimin would be with me."

Seokjin silently listened to you, but after you had said that and became quiet, he spoke up.

"I can go with you. Of course, Hoseok can go too. I get that you'd want him to go with you rather than me, he's your best friend, so…" his sentence drifted off into the silence. Why was the car ride suddenly so long? You nodded lightly at his words. "You can come. I'm... sure you'd like to know if it's a boy or girl," your lips broke into a gentle smile, thinking of a little child running around you.

"I just… kind of wish Jimin was here."

His name reminded you that Taehyung had accidently told him about the sleepover, and he may be at home for all you knew. "By the way… we might see him at the sleepover. We're in the same friends' group. One of my friends accidently let it slip, he didn't know that he had cheated on me, so… mayhaps, you will meet your boss tonight," you snickered, hoping you were wrong in desperation.

Seokjin parked the car at your house as you finished your statement and looked at you. "I'm not ready now," you rolled your eyes at his response. "He probably didn't even come. He doesn't want to waste his time, so…" you got out of the car, saw Seokjin as he grabbed the plastic bags and Haneul, and opened the door to enter inside.

The atmosphere was completely different - the house was dark, but some light entered through windows and the television was on.

"Y/n!" Jungkook's voice came first, and he hugged you tightly. You rolled your eyes, but you missed the little guy's, who wasn't so little anymore, embrace a lot. "Hey Kookie," you ruffled his hair, then parted to look at his face. He had grown up a lot since you had last seen him. Everyone had.

You looked around the house, seeing the older versions of Namjoon, the smart and intellectual one of your group back then, Yoongi, the one who slept through most of the classes and still got good grades, Taehyung, whose boxy grin never disappeared but he had certainly matured, and Hoseok. You introduced everyone to Seokjin back and forth.

But there was someone who he didn't need to be introduced to.

Jimin.

He was here. All along, he was here. And he wasn't alone, for God's sake. He had brought Minhee over. A great way to start off the night. "Seokjin?" his voice shook you, bringing tears into your eyes for some reason. It was the same as ever, but just one of shock. "Ah, Jimin. Nice to meet you," Seokjin put Haneul down, who automatically came creeping to you, and flashed a smile towards Jimin.

"How are you here?" Jimin raised a brow, as the area began to become less populated, with people wandering the house here and there. You didn't move. Partially because there was a child clinging to you, and also because you just couldn't. You were frozen. You could make out Jimin and the girl latched around his arm in the dark. It hurt a little to see that you were not her.

Maybe you were still not fully over him as you had thought. "Don't they look like a family?" Minhee's voice, high-pitched and soft, broke through the silence that had settled after Jimin's question. You just realised how close you were standing to Seokjin, and with Haneul clinging to you, you hardly doubted it didn't look like that.

"Ah, Jagi, even if they did, they aren't really a family."

Jimin's response didn't quite register right the moment it left his plump lips. You raised a brow, taking your eyes off of Haneul for once. The statement offended you in a way. Had he forgotten you were still carrying his child?

"Actually, we're together," the reply left you too quickly as your hand found Seokjin's. You were a little flustered when it came out, and the way Seokjin's hand went stiff in your embrace made you heart stop. Originally, you had meant to make Jimin jealous, but it became very wrong in only a little moment.

"Are you?" Jimin asked, his voice taken aback, rather quiet. You bit your lip, getting a little heated up. You took a deep, uneven breath. "Y-Yeah. We've been dating for a few days. Anyway, I need to go check up with Hoseok about the snacks, and… I think, you should show Haneul around the house, Jin," you tugged on his sleeve as you said the last few words, and then took your leave, picking up the bags of snacks. Seokjin helped you drop it off in the kitchen, where he set them off on the counter.

"What do you think you were doing back there?" he asked, a light frown on his face. You groaned, massaging your temples a little. "I'm under a lot of stress, okay?! I don't know what I did, I'm sorry, alright?" you responded, sighing heavily. "I couldn't have him show us up like this, I'm," words left your mind when Seokjin rested his hands on your shoulders. You saw Haneul running towards the living room.

Unlike the rest of the house, atleast the kitchen was lit up.

"It's fine. You're fine. It's okay," he looked at you in a reaffirming manner, smiling softly. "I'm here." You put your hands around his waist, your head against his chest. It felt like tugging at your heart. His embrace calmed you down. You closed your eyes, taking his scent in. Unlike the time he was drunk, his hug was warm and supportive, with his arms around your waist. "Thank you."

Hoseok came rushing in, but the sight made him freeze. You blinked at the doorway, staring at him in abrupt surprise. Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, you let go of Seokjin and he let go of you, breaking the hug. "What just-?" Hoseok began to say, but Seokjin cut him off. "I'm going to go check up on Haneul," he said, as if nothing had happened and he wasn't effected by the awkward atmosphere. Giving you a sly smile and a wink that stole your heart, he left the kitchen.

Hoseok smiled innocently, coming to the counter, where you were standing. You didn't speak a word, still surprised by the crazy person Jin was. The way your bestfriend batted his eyelashes told you that he was thinking the opposite of what was reflected on his face. You crossed your arms, your cheeks burning more by the second. "I didn't know you two were that close," he said casually, taking a look in the bags you had brought. You rolled your eyes at his tone, then frowned.

"The worst thing isn't even that!" you were so used to having him know your feelings, that you couldn't help but tell him whatever had happened between the two of you these few days. "And now I just told Jimin that we're together! I wanted to make him jealous, I didn't want him to make fun of Jin, but now… it's all over the place," you finished. "And that's not even the worst thing."

"Then what is?"

"I think I'm falling for Jin."

The look Hoseok gave you was ridiculous, and on any normal day, you'd have a lung punctured because of it, but today, it just hit different. "Are you… sure?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "If so, just confess," he continued, taking out the juice bottle. "And ruin my already-so-perfect-not-friendship with him? No," you frowned, sighing. "Well, someone's got to make the first move, right?" he gave you a little smile. "I mean, yeah, but wasn't it obvious when I spoke up against Jimin, telling him that we're together?" you frowned even more, your brows knitting together.

"Some people need the confirmation, Y/n."

It was a while before the game began; the game everyone loved at these sorts of gatherings. While Jungkook thought that it was a little too much for his innocent eyes, and volunteered to take care of Haneul, the rest of you played the ominous game everyone knew by the name of, 'truth or dare.'

Jimin and the girl, Minhee, went mostly ignored after you told everyone of how he had cheated on you and how you were pregnant, while he and his new girlfriend enjoyed some drinks. Thankfully, all the guys supported you.

But back to the game. Sighing, you watched the bottle spin, and the mouth landed towards Seokjin, while the other side landed on you. This did have you pique some interest, you wouldn't lie, because the previous dares and truths had been either childish, or just completely gross - most of the gross ones came from Minhee, as you had imagined it to go.

"Truth or dare, Jin?" you raised a brow. "Truth," he replied firmly. You smiled slyly. You wondered what you wanted to ask, and there weren't many except for, 'do you love me?' but you wouldn't get the real truth out of him anyway, since Jimin was sitting there and you needed to pretend as if you were a couple and stay true to your words. It sucked how there were truths and real truths nowadays. Truths were supposed to be just… truths.

"Who's Taeyeon?" the next question was a valid one, and everyone beside you and Seokjin went 'ohhh'. It's as if the expected this to be a 'how to catch a cheater', but you weren't even together, so it didn't matter. You just wanted to sincerely know. Maybe you'd get to shield your heart before it is stepped on again. You looked at the person-in-question, who looked conflicted, but most of all, surprised. "How did you-?" he began asking, but you cut him off. You didn't want to tell him the truth, but there was no point in hiding it. "You… you muttered the name when you came back that night… after you got drunk."

Another wave of 'ohhh' went around the room, and you were honestly getting tired of it. This wasn't something that was going to escalate into a break-up scene, and yet everyone was very interested. Jimin's amused expression made you feel even more down, as if the question wasn't enough. Your ears had been waiting to hear the answer, and still, Seokjin remained quiet.

"Haneul's mother."

The response made your heart stop. You stopped breathing for a second, the thoughts that were about him seeing someone else completely disappearing. A few moments of silence passed. Nodding, you accepted that your suspicions were wrong. Understanding Seokjin's reaction, you beckoned everyone to continue with the game.

The mouth landed on you next. You groaned, seeing as the person who was on the other end was Jimin.

"Truth or dare, Y/n?"

You bit your lip. "Dare." You were feeling risky, you wouldn't lie. But you had asked for a little too much.

"I dare you to kiss the most attractive man here."

You stared at Jimin, finding his words heavier than you thought. Without even thinking, your eyes wandered to Seokjin. His eyes locked with yours in an instant, and you gulped. What had you put yourself through?

Trying to calm your racing heart, you simultaneously moved towards Seokjin, a little scared. You had thought of it doing this before, but now that you actually had to, you felt unsure. With everything that had transpired between you, this would only make your whole relationship a lot more complicated. Seokjin looked on with widened eyes, not moving a bit. You felt bad for him, and yet, you had thought of this before too. You sighed, whispering in his ear, "I'm really sorry."

With every bit of courage left within you, you forced Seokjin to turn his handsome face towards you, and cupping it with your hands, you closed the gap between his pink lips and yours, pulling him into a kiss. You wanted him to know your true intentions - how it hurt to kiss him like this, because you weren't really his girlfriend, and yet how you'd do anything to convey that you did want to be with him.

A round of applause and multiple squeals were heard by you, but you focused on the kiss, making it longer than you intended to. Seokjin's frozen posture scared you, but at last, you pulled apart, feeling nervous and awkward. Slowly, and quietly, with your cheeks burning red, you went back to your original seat. You were too scared to lock eyes with him for the rest of the game.

But still, the play continued on relentlessly. At one point, you were even asked who you would date if you weren't 'dating' Seokjin already, and you replied honestly with, "I'd… I'd date Jimin," which gave him the satisfaction he had been searching for from the beginning, and you could see how Seokjin glared at him. It made you smile like an idiot to see his protective nature.

He didn't let Jimin come near you even once.

Later that night, you munched on some popcorn, your eyes unwavering, staying on the television screen. The seating arrangement, went something along the lines of this. From left to right, sat Hoseok, Minhee, Jimin, you, Seokjin, with Haneul sitting on the ground next to your feet, who was occasionally being playfully troubled by Jungkook, who was sitting on the ground next to him, and then Namjoon sitting on one of the arm of the couch, and Yoongi on the other.

Jimin's presence was very much unwanted, but nothing could change the fact that he was a part of your group before hell emerged, and you supposed cheating on you after impregnating you wasn't going to cut him out either. He was just as much of a part in your group as he was several years ago.

You all watched the decided horror movie - great for couples who wanted to have fun - by which you meant Jimin and Minhee, and bad for... well, you couldn't call yourself and Seokjin a couple, but bad for people with sexual tension. The whole time you were debating whether to hug him after you somehow got frightened or not. Sitting next to Jimin was also, personally, making you very anxious. But it wasn't until you heard some noises from beside you that your breath got stuck.

Apparently, the 'couple' was snogging rather than watching the movie itself. Probably why, in the earlier stages of the movie, you heard Minhee yelp and whimper, meanwhile, for quite some time now, the two remained quiet. It seemed like everyone else heard it well too, and you got the feeling of being sick to the stomach. Something building up inside of you. Like you wanted to puke. Maybe that's exactly what you wanted to do.

Hoseok, who was sitting next to Minhee, opted to sit on the ground instead. You heard Namjoon cough a little, probably to gain the couple's attention and stop them from going further, but Jimin and Minhee only took further advantage of the facts that, one, the room was dark, and two, that you all were such pacifists. Any moment, you thought Seokjin would pick Haneul up and leave the room, and your assumptions were increasingly becoming more true as his body stiffened.

It was in the middle of the movie that he had heard the end of it.

"Can you please stop the movie?" he asked Hoseok, who nodded lightly and paused it. You saw Seokjin as he went over to turn on the lights. Jimin and Minhee were all over each other, but you were thankful that it hadn't gotten any more crazier than just some really passionate kisses. You signalled Jungkook to pick Haneul up and take him somewhere else, which he understood and did so. The little child could do without seeing whatever was going to happen.

The atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife. Yoongi was glaring on Jimin like there was no tomorrow, and Hoseok, naturally passive, was fumbling madly with the remote in his hand. Namjoon stayed as quiet as ever, and Taehyung tried busying himself with some popcorn. You felt uneasy beyond explanation, and you low-key wanted to just get up and leave the room, but you couldn't and you knew it would be childish to do that. You had to stand up and become independent for once. Getting up, you didn't leave the silent room, but instead went over to Seokjin to check up on him. He was still standing near the switch, still as ever, and you assumed he was trying to calm himself.

Seeing him like this, you couldn't help but let a pang of regret and guilt wash over you. After all, it had been your idea to invite him, and you were the one who decided to share the news of Jimin coming over later than sooner, even if it wasn't confirmed. Grabbing his hand, even if you knew he really needed less of you right now, you looked up at him with your eyes full of hesitation. "Are you okay?" you whispered, tilting your head. You wished you could be more of a comfort, but you knew how uneasy Seokjin must be.

"I'm sorry but," you watched him turn to the other guys and Minhee, but his hand remained intertwined with yours. Your heart did hurt at the situation, but it was scared for what was to come. But no matter what your mind could've thought of, it couldn't have prepared you for the outburst that was next.

"Do you really have no shame?" Seokjin's voice sounded conflicted, as he walked towards Jimin and Minhee, dragging you with him. Your breath got caught into your throat. You froze in the position, the only part of your body that was moving was the hand that held Seokjin's. You squeezed his hand out of anxiety, not wanting to be in the center of everything, and yet here you were. The room remained quiet, a deadly silence engulfing all of you, till Jimin spoke up. "What do you mean?"

"I meant that, could you really not wait till you got to the bedroom or whatever arrangements were made for sleeping? If not for a comfortable atmosphere here, at least be patient for the innocent child that was sitting amongst you?" the response left everyone in the room silent. No one spoke a word after what Seokjin had said, and your hands were turning colder with every passing second. Jimin had, thankfully, untangled himself from his now-girlfriend, thought that did not help to make the situation any lighter.

Your heart swelled at the question. It showed the endless care Seokjin gave to Haneul. If anything, it made you appreciate him even more. It was in this moment you realised what an inspiring being he was - hard-working, caring, independent, with the right set of morals, his priorities were made clear, and he wasn't afraid to speak up for what was right and for what mattered to him. He wasn't going to suppress his opinions and deem them unimportant just because he was fighting against someone who was in a higher position than him. It showed real strength and bravery. Fighting for what was right despite the dangers involved.

"This is no way to treat a guest, though," Jimin's brows furrowed. "The whole time, I and Minhee have been being ignored and treated as slaves of a sort! It's still happening," you rolled your eyes at the reply. This time, it wasn't Seokjin who spoke up. It was Yoongi.

"Maybe if you didn't treat Y/n the way you did, this wouldn't be happening."

Silence - heavy and immensely cold silence. You wanted to shout at Yoongi for bringing you into the fight and yet, you would've given him the same answer. If he didn't treat others nicely, how could he have expected to be treated right? It didn't make sense to you and you wanted to slap some sense into him, but you knew it was impossible, for he wouldn't learn. "You could've told me if you didn't want me here."

Jimin got up, taking Minhee alongside him. Passing by Seokjin and you, he muttered words you couldn't ever let escape your mind.

"And you're fired, Seokjin-ssi."

It had been two weeks since then. Seokjin had left Hoseok's home that night with Haneul, and he hadn't contacted you ever since then. Thanks to Jimin, your friendship with Seokjin had taken a one-eighty degree turn for the worse, and the worst thing was that you couldn't stop it, because he had basically decided not to talk to you.

Everyday was filled with fuming rage and frustration that he still hadn't called you. Not a single day went by when you wouldn't whine about the fact, and you knew Hoseok was getting sick of your temper tantrums, which you basically threw everyday, and on poor him too.

"Y/n! Calm down for a second, will you?" it was a Thursday evening when Hoseok had grown a little too tired of it to keep it all inside him. You didn't blame him for this, as much as you hated it, your mood changes and the temper that had consumed you wasn't letting go of you. Likely due to your preganancy, but you didn't bother with the reasons much. "I'm sorry, okay?" you huff, crossing your arms and sinking down on the couch. "I'm tired of him not picking up the gazillion times I've called him, or not responding to any of my messages! And tomorrow we're going to find out the gender, are we not? He wanted to come too!"

It was going to be your two-month-mark tomorrow, which meant you could take that test Hoseok had told you about. You didn't care if Jimin wasn't there with you anymore; Seokjin had to be. Somebody had once said that someone's absence made the heart fonder. It had certainly made you realise the impact Seokjin had on your life, and once, you even wondered if you could live it without him.

He had made you so happy - just to leave you here in the dark. You didn't know how you got where you did, but picking up your phone, you looked at the spam of texts you had sent him. You were surprised he hadn't blocked you, and the thought made you snicker. You really were a pesky, little thing for him.

[Y/N]: Jin?

[Y/N]: Seokjin?

[Y/N]: Are you receiving these textsssss

[Y/N]: God, I miss you, please forgive Jimin :(

[Y/N]: I'm so sorry for everything he did and I know he fired you and all, but please respond to me

[Y/N]: At least tell me you're okay!

[Y/N]: Seokjinnnnnn

[Y/N]: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!! Please don't ignore me

You weren't even scratching the surface with those texts. There were a million more, but your hands didn't have the energy to scroll up to see those. All held the same message - forgiveness and to not ignore you anymore. You weren't even sure if he had seen these, but you knew he was definitely ignoring your calls. Unless he was in the bathroom everytime you called. Which was, in your opinion, impossible.

"Y/n, if you're so desperate, we can go to his house but I doubt he wants to see you right now." Hoseok's answer made you turn to him in surprise. "Really?" without further thought, you agreed to your bestfriend's offer, changed into something nicer, and buckled up.

Your heart wanted nothing more than to see Seokjin's handsome face right now. It was longing to see him, practically being tugged to his house from the very first week. But you were willing to give him a chance to speak to you over phone back then, and Hoseok wouldn't agree to take you there, no matter how much you pleaded him. He had truly astonished you with the sudden exclamation that you could go to Seokjin, but you did not mind one bit.

Everyday, you had thought of doing this - going to meet Seokjin, but life wouldn't let you. Now that you were going, your heart was racing at a very fast pace. You were nervous, yes, but also very excited to see him again. Maybe he only saw you as a friend, but you couldn't deny your feelings for him. He was the most beautiful thing you had seen - just thinking of how he made you feel was enough to make you tear up.

It felt like a millennia had gone by since you had heard his sweet voice - since you had seen his gorgeous face - since you had met someone as caring and loving as him. Your heart was heavy and impatient as Hoseok parked in front of Seokjin's house.

"Would you like to come in too?" you ask him, but he politely declined, saying that he'll wait for you outside instead. Mustering up all your courage, you got out of the car and left for the door.

It was a beautiful night. You hoped it symbolised new beginnings, hope for the future. You hoped it meant that your relationship with Seokjin would strengthen instead of fall apart tonight. Appreciating the twilight sky, you looked down at the polished door, and then, taking a deep breath one last time, you rang the bell.

You stayed utterly quiet as you waited for the door to open. You looked back to see Hoseok staring at you expectantly, letting your nerves get the best of you. It was in that moment that the door opened, making your heart skip a beat.

"Y/n?" there it was. The sweetest of voices - smooth like honey, it sounded like one of the most ethereal ones you could hear - almost something you'd hear in heaven. You locked your eyes with Seokjin's dark ones, losing yourself. Your heart felt at home, and a smile found its way to your face. You didn't reply with anything. You could only stare into his eyes and see the warmth in it, adore his heavenly features, and hope he'd want to be friends with you again.

You were willing to be a friend for now, if that's what he needed.

"Hi Seokjin. It's been a while, hasn't it?" you giggle softly, your hands cold but you couldn't be happier than with him. "Do you… want to come inside?" he moved aside and you went inside, your heart feeling fulfilled. "I was wondering if you were okay? You haven't been answering my calls or responding to my texts… and I really missed you." You could see how Seokjin tensed up at your words, and at the mention of the incident.

"I... You know, it's fine, things will turn out t-" but Seokjin had cut you off before you could explain anything. "Y/n," his voice was meek as he spoke. "I'm unemployed, for God's sake! I-I don't have any money after I spend the saved up one, and I-I won't be able to feed Haneul in the near future! I-I wouldn't be able to afford anything. T-Then we'd get kicked out and live on the streets…" he stammers, breathing unevenly.

You listened to him in acute silence, taking in each and every word. "Things are not going to turn better. Who's going… to pay for his school fees when he has to go…? How will I buy him his toys…? H-How will I provide for him?" he sat down on the couch, holding his head in his hands. You wished you could have offered him something, something that would fix everything, but nothing came to mind.

"Jimin… he fired me because of the fact that he thought we were together. And because I made him look bad in front of his old friends, but what he doesn't understand is that he was already bad in their eyes!" he exclaims, the words hitting you like a dagger to your heart. A chill ran down your spine. "I'm... s-so sorry…" you whisper, walking to the male and bending down in front of him.

You moved away his hands to look in his eyes. "I…" and then something hit you. Like an explosion, an idea formed in your mind. An alternative way to solve his problems - to fix it all if fortune was on his side. If only he was willing to go through it. There was always a resolution.

"I have an idea."

"What?"

"Follow your dream. Try becoming what you've always wanted to become - an actor."

Seokjin's eyes widened. "You're not serious, are you? Who'll take care of Haneul?" he asks, a horrified expression covering his face, but you could only smile. "What am I here for?" you took your chance. "Look, Jin, I've always… really enjoyed your company. And…" you could feel your heart beating against your chest so violently, that you were scared he'd hear it. "And if you don't like me back, it's fine. I'll still take care of Haneul. And we'll still remain friends. O-Of course, if you want that," you added the last few words hesitantly, stuttering a little.

His response was silence, but it wasn't uneasy. It felt like home. It felt like a welcome back, acceptance. You looked down at the ground, nodding to an unheard melody. Maybe you were accepting the fact that he had no answer for you - because he didn't have feelings for you as you did for him. You could feel his unsteady gaze on you. Getting up, you gave his wide-eyed face a soft smile. "It's fine," you could hear the rejection coming. For once, you didn't need to hear it to know it was a reality. "People fall in love and whatnot," you shrugged lightly, letting a hollow laugh leave your lips.

Your heart was empty and heavy. But your words were lighter than the air that surrounded the two of you. The silent melancholic atmosphere made you smile softly. Another end, another goodbye.

"Wait," his voice stopped you from going any further. "I didn't deny it yet," you looked at him, conflicted by his words. "Then deny it now?" you turned away. "Well… how do I put this…?" he laughed.

"I meant… I can't deny it. I love you. I mean... wasn't it obvious?"

Even the heart mistakened things sometimes.

Especially that one time, when you had given your blood sample to the doctor, so you could find you the gender of the baby as well as see for the possibility of chromosomal conditions. You had definitely thought karma would be giving you a boy, that forever symbolised Jimin in your life, but you couldn't have been more wrong. Approximately, six months later, you welcomed a little baby girl in your arms. It was impossible at the time who she looked more like as - you or Jimin - and you and Seokjin would constantly argue over that playfully, but in the end, life turned out to be a little more happier from then on.

Especially seeing as you had, not only your little girl with you, but also Seokjin and Haneul - symbolizing you were never alone from the very beginning.

right. added that, and it’s literally just completely done now.

enjoy.

Danny has to admit, it's fun to hang around as Phantom. Even if it gives people opportunity to shoot at him, walking places just doesn't have the same feel as flying. And it doesn't get everyone to shoot at him. A lot of citizens, young ones especially, just think he's pretty cool. When he isn't invisible, they're the ones most likely to try to talk to him. And unlike, say, the ones who yell, Danny's willing to have a conversation. "Yo, Danny Phantom!" And Danny's over there in seconds, his legs quickly reforming as he stands before them. "Hey."

The person who'd called seems suddenly less willing to talk. Danny's used to people being afraid by now, though it's still weird, but even weirder is the times like now when they aren't afraid but starstruck. Someone else wearing a bandanna around their neck picks up. "Hi. Our friend's in the hospital right now." "Sorry." "Nah, you take more hits than all of us combined. But like, she drew you this thing, to thank you, but she didn't think you'd see it. However, Luke here was gonna show you. Luke, phone." Luke, still tongue-tied, unlocks and hands over his phone. The kid scrolls through the photos on the phone. Recently, the people in town are trying to really show their appreciation for Danny. He thinks it might be because of some recent visitors, one of which Danny found out was a ghost, nonhostile guy who still travelled with is friends. The whole group talked about what it's like for ghosts, how recognition and generosity matter. Danny still has their phone number. The kid finds what they're looking for. Danny holds the phone carefully as he looks at the picture. They're admonishing Luke for his terrible folder structures. It's a really sick picture. If Danny were at all willing to risk his cell number getting out, he'd ask them to text it to him. He really likes the particular pose and lighting, and they got his face exactly right, just like a mirror. Well, mirrors half of the time. But the shapes are the same! He grins at Luke while he hands the phone back. "Dude, that's so sweet! Do you like, think she'd let me see the actual physical one?" Luke has found his voice! "Yeah! Terry would actually love that. It's in her art folder, we brought it to the hospital room... not sure when or if you can visit." "Dude, just tell me when. Flag me down sometime, just, yeah. I'll bring my phone, get my own picture." "Awesome." The two other kids with them, at this point, are still messing around, but noticeably less than they were before he came over. When one notices he might leave, they walk over, and the last friend follows. "Uh, Phantom?" "Yeah?" "Can I get a picture of your logo?" "Sure. Why?" The kid swipes open their phone and he stands on the ground in front of them while they snap a photo. "D, P, oh. Never seen it this close before. Right, I'm making a collage of superheroes, and I thought, wait. I should add a real superhero who lives here! Any preference on who you're next to?" "Depends. Marvel or DC?" "More obscure heroes from both." Danny thinks about it. It's been a while since he's thought about this much. Real superheroics have kind of monopolized his focus for a while now. "Hmm. You got Captain Marvel on there?" "Yeah I do! I mean, she shouldn't be obscure. That's kind of the theme here. Too underrated." Danny nods. "These poor unfortunate souls. But yeah, I love the space origins." "Ha, what planet are you from?" "Not a planet... Aliens are cool, but there's a portal to an actual other dimension in your hometown, which is equally cool and also real." The kid can't refute that. His friend, bored, tries to throw an orange slice at him. He misses, but Danny catches it in his mouth. The formerly-bored friend turns out to be a vicious meanie. "You just can't dodge anything, can you. Are you always trying to eat what your enemies throw at you?" Danny is hurt, truly. He puts his hand over his heart and makes his best wide-eyed expression of sorrow. "Gasp. After all I do for you specifically, eating all those explosive blasts before you can, this is the thanks I get. Throw an orange at yourself, why don't you. Maybe you should practice dodging." The kid throws a whole orange this time, which Danny catches in his hand before peeling. "Oh, delicious inciendiary pain." He debates trying to hit himself in the chest and just grow another mouth there, before realizing that's horrifying. He just eats more orange slices. "So like. Ghosts can eat?" The kid with the bandanna seems curious. Danny shrugs. "I don't know. Ghosts can at least taste." He really doesn't know. Danny isn't quite a ghost. "Do you like to?" "Don't get the chance much. But sure, rather taste sweeter stuff than active plasma." He shoots a look at the orange kid, who has an orange in each hand now. Is that why their pockets are so full? They throw the oranges fast enough he reflexively goes intangible. He hears them hit the road behind him, then salutes the other kids and takes his leave. -----(can anybody tell me how to add lines proper?) It's gotten out really quickly that ghosts can eat. Not a lot of incidents involving that have happened, so Danny blames the sudden awareness everybody has of that on the internet. And a couple people are spreading the word that offerings to spirits are appreciated greatly, Danny's pretty sure those people also follow the web log of those paranormal investigators with the ghost. People have started asking if he'd like to share food they have on hand. Danny feels awkward, because he does already eat food at his own house, because he is alive. But then, the people might do that anyways if they knew that? They're trying to show their appreciation. And it's not like he couldn't just avoid their offers if he wanted, easily! Nobody's exactly chasing him down for this, just asking, when they have opportunities. He really does appreciate it too. Most everything tastes better when it's from someone whose life you've saved, or their wellbeing or family member or just their car. So Danny does usually accept whenever people offer to buy him things, or share what they have. Sure, he eats at home, but then sometimes he's pulled away before he can eat breakfast, or dinner, or anything. When people approach him at those times, he really doesn't even want to argue. So he doesn't.

Some of his older fans make similar offerings, but from meals they made through their own efforts. Those ones are also sweet. He's heard of the taste of victory, but the taste of gratitude is great. Danny likes knowing that people appreciate what he does, however they show it, and this is more convenient than all the cards he has in a locked box in his mattress, along with the other gifts, which he finds harder and harder to hide. He vastly appreciates the art, but his parents wouldn't really get this interest as anything other than suspicious. So the food is a welcome gift, even if returning containers to the right people can be difficult. He likes the sweets, but he actually likes salty things better, and after someone asks him about preferences a lot of people get interested. It's not a large percentage of the population, more those who especially like him and who are interested in cooking and baking, but a lot more people are starting conversations with him as Phantom than ever did before. He feels more appreciated. Some people yell at him because they dislike him, but gifts like these feel more tangible, like they outweigh that, even if people already cheered for him. And again, really convenient if he misses his planned meals. Danny's a fan. ------- Rhys is popping gum across the table while Jill continues talking about the annoyance of spices. Blah blah why does everyone use like no spices blah. Benjamin's late again, but as he dashes in and skids into the booth, the mess that is his clothes says it was probably under extenuating circumstances. "Did you forget your backpack?" Rhys swirls their drink with their straw. "Oh, oh crud it's probably still under there." He puts his head in his hands, and Jill pats his head in sympathy for whatever happened. "It must not have phased with me..." Jill shifts her legs like the restless shark she is. "Phased? There was an attack?" "Seems reasonable. Sure, it wasn't on the news, but at this point that's no surprise. There's barely a consensus on how many there are in a week, but too many to fit with regular news." Rhys sticks their gum to an empty wrapper. "But yeah. Why were you getting phased through anything, Benj?" "Um. Phantom. He saved me, I was caught in a collapse, a building was just. Fell." "Shit Benj, are you okay?" Jill's holding onto Benjamin now, like to keep him safe. "You didn't have to come here, do you need medical attention?" Benjamin shakes his head. "It wasn't dangerous! Just, dusty, and I couldn't get out. I'm glad Phantom heard me, though, my mobile wasn't working." "You sure you're okay Benny?" "Yeah. I think my clothes have it worse than I do. And my poor backpack." "F." Rhys leans against the wall, stretching their feet across the booth's bench. "This probably doesn't do you much of a favor in the long run, though. I mean, you thought that crush was bad before? Phantom just carried you out of a building. Tell me, Benj, did he take you by the hand, was it bridal-style?" "Hey Rhys? Shut up in those blue jeans." "Shut up in those blue jorts." Jill cracks a grin. "Shut up 'cause it's blue Jill." They do a mock-bow toward Jill, before Benjamin keeps talking. "All jokes aside, I really wanna thank him somehow. Uh, Phantom. Do you guys have any ideas? Because I don't think my skills in the area of writing are gonna be much help." "Au contraire Benj, I'm sure it'll be excellent help impressing your new boyfriend." "Shut up, I mean it." Jill looks at Rhys, and Rhys shuts up. "Uh, a bunch of people are like giving him food... Do you think he'd appreciate that? I could help, I kind of want to, you're my friend and I'm glad he saved you." She goes very quiet, like she already thinks it was stupid to even suggest. Rhys shrugs, but is smiling. "Sure, if you think he'll have your taste in extra-spicy." "Okay, I am NOT saying that everything needs to fucking BURN, but SOME PEOPLE are WEAK, and spices are meant to be USED and not in INFINITESIMALS," "Come on Rhys he's a ghost, we could probably put tylotoxin in it and he'd thank us. He'd thank us anyway, because Jill is fantastic at this and her idea was excellent." "Oh, cool. Thanks." Rhys shoots up, their face lighting up. "Oh my god, dudes, we should so totally actually do that though." "UH, it was just an example," "I'm not sure where we would get tylo," Rhys hits their hands on the table. "No, guys. He loves jokes, he loves MORBID jokes, he IS a ghost and he'd totally survive it! And again, he'd think it was so funny. All Benji's idea, of course. I'm so proud of you I could die." "Are you sure it won't do anything?" "I mean, he gets tossed around all the time and heals up quick. And this is *poison*, the type that works on *humans*. And if you're so unsure we can add a non-fatal amount, just in case he wants a kiss after." Benjamin nods slowly. Jill is already on board. "Alright but really, where are we going to get tylotoxin?"

---------- Danny had been liking the recent trend of tangible appreciation, but. Damn it all. He didn't have much right to feel betrayed, since he'd let his guard down. Nobody could have done this before anyway. He'd practically enabled them. He was still feeling pretty freaking angry at whoever had poisoned him. He doesn't know exactly who that was, though, since he's not sure when exactly they did it. -- The night he noticed it, he was just going home in the evening. It had a good chance to be one of those nights with no attacks to present issues, especially given that it was summer. He was walking instead of flying home, mainly out of preference, but started feeling tired enough to change his mind. After getting home and landing in his room, he was all prepared to wait another hour or so for ghostly latecomers, and yet so very, very ready to go to sleep. As soon as he turned human, though, he abruptly doubled over. It was a very abrupt, intense pain, and although he managed to get up when the shock wore off, it showed no signs of lessening. He pushed his shoes off and lied on his bed, grabbing for his phone. He couldn't tell where it was coming from. As he dialed for Tucker, he tried to think about the most recent attack, or the one before that. He didn't remember any wounds. Could it have been poison? "Danny, what's up." "Tucker, hey, uh." Tucker was already sighing over the phone. "You have a problem then?" "Don't know what would give you that idea..." "You always do this, man." His tone made it sound like Danny should know what exactly "this" was. "Besides, I'd hope you aren't calling about anything that could wait at this hour." "Okay fine. ...This hurts, like, a lot." Danny felt very tired, now, and his attempts to sit up weren't doing so hot. "Shit, man. What happened?" "I don't know. I think it's poison, some kind. Started hurting when I got home... When I was human." "What? That's not... Hmmm." Tucker sets his phone down. Probably checking something-or-other. Danny was feeling worse by the second. It hurt a lot, and it hit him that he might want to leave his house. He didn't think he could make it through an interaction with anyone here. Of course, he also felt like he didn't have the energy to get up and leave. Man, at least he wasn't throwing up. But now his head was hurting, and he curled up trying not to make a sound. He noticed he was clutching his phone now, hard, and lightened up before it could crack. Did Tucker say something? Shit, could poison do that? Concussions did that, was it a headache thing? "Uhhhh I wanna go. Your place? Sam's place, going there cool." Danny flipped his phone shut in and instant and slipped into a ghostly form before he even checked the door. Remembering that one second later, he zipped his head around to find it was fortunately shut, with no sign that anyone else at home had seen him. His thoughts already felt clearer, and the pain felt much more muted. Now, being Phantom dulled most of the pain, though there was still an ache in his stomach. Did that mean it was poison he ingested? Who'd have done that? He's still not sure. After flying to Sam's place, he discovered that she was on a video call with Tucker. He's really glad he can count on them. "Sam. Tucker. Sorry Tucker, actually. I don't think I was thinking clearly." He sat on the bed, which appeared to be different than the last he saw. Change of scenery, he guessed. "It doesn't hurt so much now, and I can think. It's mostly hurting my stomach now, actually. Did I eat poison?" Sam got him to lie down on her bed, which felt pretty weird considering he was still wearing boots. But he sat up to look at Tucker on the screen, who was talking about what they knew. "Most of your enemies don't use poison. And yeah, Skulker shows up a lot, but he's an outlier, and it's been a while since he was here anyway." "Yeah, 'cause we /totaled/ his suit last time." Danny grinned, and for a brief second so did Tucker. Then he got back to it. "Most poisons wouldn't take that long to affect someone, without /some/ sign. Nothing?" Sam nodded as Tucker spoke, probably out of further poison knowledge. Danny didn't think so. Skulker was about a week or two ago, by now? "No. I mean, I felt tired before flying home, but that was still only today." Sam jumped on his words. "Like, abnormally tired? Is this another symptom?" "It could be. I think it also stopped when I went ghost, too, so there's another point." They listened to Tucker adding that detail to his notes, before Sam looked out the window, furrowing her brow. "The thing is, it's obviously a human poison, if that's true. Which could still be a ghostly enemy, but if you can get out of it so easily then what's the point? Especially since other stuff, like sickness, leaves quicker, when your temperature doesn't already repel them." Danny frowned. "Did someone try to poison me? Human me? Why would someone do that?" "I don't know! Who'd hate you enough for that, most people just don't really care! The only person who comes to mind is Vlad, which seems unlikely." "Yeah, pretty sure he still needs me alive for some reason or another." Even with the cloning efforts, Danny 1.0 wasn't obsolete yet. Sam walked to the other side of the room, to a table. It was a very small table, but as Sam lifted the edge of the long tablecloth, she grabbed a large bag from beneath. She returned with this in hand, her first-aid kit showing from within. "We're hoping it will help if we can tell what kind of poison it is. Might at least give us an idea of where to look." Danny grimaced, but nodded. "Yeah okay, alright, should probably switch back for that? Yeah." Before his friends could protest, he flipped forms to his human self. Danny immediately was forced to lie completely down, without the energy to continue sitting. "Urrrrrr." The pain hit once more at the same time. Was it worse than before? He closed his eyes tightly. "Danny! Damn it. Okay, his breathing is really fast." As she turned toward him, her voice sounded louder. He tried to focus on what she said. "We'll try to get through this quickly, but just turn back if you need to, alright?" He didn't respond. "Alright, temperature. Tucker, you're recording all this, yeah?" After Tucker presumably confirmed, Danny felt something press across his forehead. "Oh, man. Feels way too warm. I'm not liking this..." Tucker's voice from behind Sam said something Danny couldn't make out. It was probably bad. "Okay," Sam said, and Danny couldn't hear the rest. Then something poked his arm, right on the wrist. He opened his eyes, to find he was in Sam's room. She was holding his hand, and he wanted to ask about that, but he couldn't seem to. She seemed to be getting upset about something. He closed his eyes again. It felt like only a second before he managed to open them again. He tilted his head to the side to see what was up, but there was a curtain in the way. Apparently Sam's new bed had curtains on it. He moved to shift them out of the way, and found Sam sitting at her computer, frowning. "Hey, I think the poison went away. It doesn't hurt anymore." She turned around in her chair with wide eyes, before remembering he was weird and partially relaxing. "Are you sure, Danny? That was fast." "I'm thinking pretty clearly, so yeah. Not sure I remember all of that, but yeah." Sam seemed skeptical. "How did you just get the poison out of your body?" Danny shrugged. "Ghost stuff? I dunno, I'm willing to blame it on my good old fighting /spirit/." He smiled at her, but she didn't seem convinced. "Let me try something." Sam got up and walked to stand by where he was lying. "I'm not so sure it's over, but this should test whether it's done." Before Danny could say a word, she'd grabbed his arm and given it a scratch with her nails. "Hey!" he had to shout, touching where she'd clawed. Looking at it, it wasn't bleeding, but some skin was torn. Then Danny realized it didn't hurt. Sam looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? Probably not quite over, then. Besides, you were only out for a few minutes after your heart stopped, and I doubt all of the poison left your system in that time." "Guess it hasn't given up the ghost, then. But I won't either. I must be thinking with my core right now, which explains why I'm not feeling it. I hope it gets out soon, or else it's going to suck when my brain comes back online. Or worse, my nerves." It did get worse. Even despite the fact he didn't feel the tiredness as a ghost, he couldn't manage to get anything done, since at any point another function, with its associated pain sensors, could come back. He had to stay at Sam's the whole week, and as his human form started working with the rest again, even getting to a different room of the house was an effort. Worse still was when his brain activity did return, and he wished it didn't, because this time it didn't stop his heart. He just had to stay that way, in extreme pain, waiting for it to be over and getting annoyed by how hard it was to focus on anything. By the end of it, he was outright wishing for another illness or poison he could just vomit out. ------- He still doesn't know who did it. Not exactly. But he's figured it out. It must have been someone who gave him food. It must have been someone who doesn't know human poison doesn't work on ghosts, because anyone who knows he's a halfa is unlikely to be involved. And now he's just cursing himself for trusting anybody like that. The worst week of his life, that must have been. After all, the second worst week featured a /fast/ and painful death. ------- Luke's been trying to get Phantom's attention again for ages now, with Terry out of the hospital. After disappearing, the hero has been more reclusive, less willing to talk to people. He hasn't been accepting gifts, anymore, but he'd said he'd like to see Terry's work! His friends eventually convince him to give it up. Phantom doesn't want to talk, right now. ------- What happened to Phantom? He's shown a definite change in behaviour, talking less to civilians. He's declined all offerings since his disappearance. The first time he was seen in a week, he moved differently, almost as if he hadn't moved in a while. Hypothesis: He's been trapped within some place in the Ghost Zone, immobile, and interdimensional time dilation made it a longer stay than we've experienced. He's having trouble acclimating back to Amity. ------- They haven't talked about what they did. Not while Phantom stayed out of commission, the whole week. And not for another week, as the fallout of whatever happened became clear. As it became clear the blame was on them. But Benjamin's guilty conscience wouldn't let him keep silent forever, even if he was afraid to say it very loud. "I wish I hadn't gone to that stupid first-person workshop. Wish we hadn't gotten attacked, and I wish he never freaking pulled me out." He glares into his cup. "Benny, it's not your fault." Jill says, probably about to say something 'helpful'. But Benjamin starts first, and it might not /help/ but it feels just a bit better to blame someone else. "Of course not, I'm not the one who thought it was a /good/ idea to poison a hero." Rhys, previously silent, meets every challenge at equal measure. "Oh, yeah, because it was so stupid. I was totally right, if any one of us /bothered/ to check whether poison affects stupid ghosts. Or said something! You could have /told/ your little boyfriend the secret ingredient wasn't exactly love. Bet he'd know if this could be excused under 'love & war'." "Like you know one thing about love, you black widow. Do /you/ poison everyone you date? It wasn't my /idea/ to make him sick, I was grateful!" "So was I Benj! I'm so glad you're here with me it hurts, and I just thought surely, someone as dead as I am inside would appreciate a joke, but the joke fell flat. It fucked him up. I fucked up, yeah!" And everything's quiet a minute. Benjamin drinks his odd choice in summer beverage, and finds that it's cooled down some. Jill speaks up, quietly. "I poisoned somebody." Sitting sideways in the booth, she curls in on herself, upset. "Jill, no, it wasn't your idea, it was mine. Rhys lifts their sunglasses off. "I'm the one who actually seriously meant that." "I cook and I poisoned somebody. What am I gonna do?" Benjamin tries to offer her a back pat, but her legs are in the way. He pats her knees instead. "You didn't know it would poison him. You had every reason to think it would be fine." "Isn't there a rule or something that says you're not allowed to cook anymore if you poison somebody?" "That's a negligence thing though. Or incompetence. Definitely doesn't count if we gave you wrong information." Jill sips her drink through the straw, ignoring the whipped cream on top. A bad sign. "I never want to do that again." "What- Jill, you love to cook! You passionately rant about spices and-" "I mean the poisoning." "Oh, yeah, totally. Don't do that." -------- Danny Fenton doesn't know every person in this city, but he feels like he's at least seen most of them. Even if he's never talked to them, he's probably indirectly saved their life at some point. The ones he's least directly saved tend to hate him the most. Yet sometimes, even people he doesn't recognize will show him kindness. Danny likes feeling appreciated, more than even as much shouting as his detractors do can take from him. He'll talk to people again, and not just to save them. He'll trust people again, even if it's hard right now. And maybe, years later, he'll be able to hear the true story and laugh. But for now, Danny needs to think.

Between

Alexa Bliss/Reader/Braun Strowman; Smut, 3955 words

A rather inspired anon asked for this threesome!

***

It's not exactly how you always pictured your Raw debut, wearing a tutu and a stupid hat after being roped in with some of the other NXT trainees and a few random extras to be in No Way Jose's conga line, but hey, you'll take it any way you can get it. And you're already having a pretty good time, what with the whole group of you full-on committing to the party atmosphere, feeding off each other's energy as you enthusiastically conga your way to gorilla.

A few of the superstars and staff hanging out backstage give you a thumbs up or a smile as you make your way past them, but all you get from Alexa Bliss is a long, sneering look and an upper lip curled in unconcealed disgust. And it's not as if you would have expected any different, but to your confusion, you could maybe kind of swear that a fair amount that disgust is being directed at you personally. But you have to be imagining that. You've never even met Alexa before, so there's no reason why she'd single you out among the others. You're not even wearing the most ridiculous outfit, you tell yourself, shaking your head and dancing along, putting it out of your mind.

But once the show is over and you're back in normal clothes, watching some of the videos the audience have posted on social media of you and your conga buddies, Alexa appears, striding into your line of vision.

"Hey," she says. It's less of a greeting and more of a demand for attention, but even so, you barely look up, quickly glancing behind you, sure she can't possibly be talking to you. "No," she says, pointing directly at you, moving closer. "You. Hey."

"Hi there," you say, slowly. "Can I help you?"

"Let's hope so," she replies impatiently. "You drive, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Great," she tells you. "My ride fell through, I need someone to drive for me."

You pause, not understanding, then ask, "You can't drive?"

"Of course I can drive," she says, as if that's the stupidest question she's ever heard. "I just don't like to."

"So you want me to be like your unpaid Uber or something?"

"Well, no." She huffs out a sigh. "I mean, I have a car. I just need you to drive it."

"Why would I do that?" you ask.

"I'll owe you," she says, with a put-upon roll of her eyes. "The Raw Women's Champion will owe you a favor, how about that?"

"Aren't you the former Raw Women's Champion?"

"Former, current, whatever."

You don't say anything, trying to make sense of what she's asking and why the actual hell she would ask you, of all people, but, you suppose, it's not like you have anything better to do. This whole being-on-Raw thing was sudden enough that you don't have a flight home or any accommodation booked, and even if you're ninety nine percent certain Alexa is lying about owing you, it still might be useful to have even the vaguest 'in' with someone with as much status in the company as her.

So you shrug, and say, "Fine."

"Great," she says, with a smile so transparently insincere that you almost change your mind.

But you don't, and soon enough you're in the car, on the road.

Alexa is engrossed in her phone, and you make a couple of attempts at starting a conversation but receive not even the barest acknowledgement in return, so you settle into a slightly uncomfortable silence. Slightly uncomfortable on your part, anyway, because Alexa doesn't seem bothered at all.

Which is just one of many reasons why you're so taken aback when, maybe half an hour later, she reaches over and puts her hand on your thigh, resting it there, unmoving.

At first you think she must have made a mistake, that she's maybe tired enough to be not completely aware of what she's doing, because she doesn't look at you, doesn't even glance up from her phone for one single second. And you're not sure how to respond, so in the end you do the only thing you can think of, which is to take a breath and lay your hand on top of hers.

And she does look up at that, saying, sharply, "Don't touch me."

You shift your hand away, quickly, placing it back on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. "Sorry," you tell her, assuming it's all a misunderstanding, that she'll move her own hand away.

But she doesn't. Which is weird. But then the whole situation is weird, and it only seems to be getting weirder, because it's not so long before you stop at a restaurant to get some takeout to eat in the car, and while you're waiting for your food, you use the bathroom. And when you walk out of the stall, Alexa's standing there, leaning back against the wall opposite. She watches you wash your hands, and when you're done, you turn to face her, not saying anything.

And she kisses you. She takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger, tilts your head down enough to reach her mouth, and kisses you.

You pull away in surprise, staring at her. "What?" she says, and there's no answer to that, so you only shake your head and lean back in, this time parting your lips, letting her tongue caress slow against yours, warm and sweet inside your mouth.

"You think I’m hot, don't you?" she says, when you stop, smirkingly, smugly assured. “You really like me, right?”

"I wouldn't say that," you tell her. "But yeah, you're hot."

"I know," she says, like it's such a terrible burden. "I am."

She kisses you again in the elevator on the way up to her hotel room, pushing you back against the mirrored wall, her eyes open, and you're pretty sure she's watching her own reflection as she slides her hand inside your shirt, over one of your breasts, her fingertips scraping at your nipple through your bra. "You know,” you remind her, “there’ll be cameras in here.”

"So?" she says, dismissively. "Then we'll give some sad loser working security the best masturbation material of his tragic life, who cares?" She pinches your nipple hard enough that you hiss in a breath, and then smiles at you as the elevator door opens.

You trail after her down the hall, admiring her ass as she walks, waiting as she unlocks the room and then following her in.

And it's a pretty big room as hotel rooms go, but even so, it's basically impossible to miss the fact that a reasonable amount of the available space currently seems to be taken up by the truly enormous man who is sitting at a table, staring down at his phone.

"Oh, hey, will you look at that," Alexa says, not even bothering to feign surprise. "I guess Braun's here."

"I guess he is," you reply, carefully, because that's not what you were expecting. "Yeah, why is Braun here?"

Braun looks you up and down, gaze scanning over your body, but then he frowns at Alexa, forehead wrinkling as he says in that remarkably deep voice of his, "Didn't you tell her?"

"Tell me what?" you ask, wary.

"Sorry," he says to you. "She should have told you. We sometimes..." He pauses, as if he might possibly offend you by saying the word, but Alexa's not so delicate.

"Threesomes," she supplies. "Sometimes we have threesomes."

"This is a threesome?" you say. "With me?"

"Um, yeah, with you," says Alexa, like it's obvious. Which, you suppose, it is.

"I didn't know you two were even a thing." You turn to look at Alexa. "Are you a thing?"

"God, no," she says, as if the very idea is ludicrous. "We're just friends."

"But friends-with-benefits friends?

"Just friends, no benefits."

"A threesome sounds pretty beneficial to me," you point out.

Alexa shrugs. "Depends how you do it."

"We kind of have the same taste in women," Braun explains. "And we like watching each other."

"So," you say, trying to get things clear, "you'd be fucking me, but not each other?"

"See," says Alexa, "now you're getting it."

And huh, you think, because that seems like maybe a strange arrangement, but also kind of hot. Like, really kind of hot. But the idea of it is one thing, the reality something else completely, and you're a little hesitant.

Which Alexa seems to pick up on, because she gives you an impatient look. "I mean, you like guys too, right?" she says.

"How do you know that?" you ask, because how would she know that?

"Just guessing." She shrugs. "You seem the type."

"I do," you say, uncertain, "but..."

"Great," Alexa says brightly, as if it's all decided. "I thought you'd be cool with it."

"Yeah..." you reply, but before you can finish, she jumps in, as if certain she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

"Don't worry," she assures you. "His dick's not that big."

"Excuse me," Braun says indignantly. "My dick is plenty big."

Alexa rolls her eyes. "Okay, yeah, it's big, but it's not, you know..." She holds up her hands, fingers curled as if into claws, and says, "Not, like, grrrrr, all get these hands, monster-big."

"Not the monster among dicks, then," you say, because this is, frankly, kind of fucking surreal.

"No." Alexa shakes her head. "But he likes it when you call it that."

Braun scowls at her, and says, "No I don't."

"You should," she tells him. "It's funny." But she doesn't seem amused. “Anyway," she says to you. "Why don't you take off your clothes?"

She sits down on the end of the bed, crossing her legs, hands clasped over her knee, an expectant look on her face and well, you think, why the fuck not?

So you start to undress, and they both watch you, Alexa with a coolly assessing gaze, Braun with a concentrated expression that soon changes to an appreciation so visibly heated that it sends a sharp thrill through you, the feeling of it gathering between your legs, arousal beginning to build inside you.

You pause for a second when you're down to your bra and panties, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically insecure, swallowing nervously. But you take a deep breath and reach behind yourself, unhooking your bra and letting it slip off your arms, bending slightly to push your panties down enough that they fall to the floor, stepping out of them.

You stand up straight, naked, and they're both staring at you, eyes raking over your body with unashamed want. "Nice," Braun murmurs, and Alexa looks over at him.

"I know, right?" she says, then turns her attention immediately back to you. "Kiss him," she tells you.

And so you walk towards Braun, anticipation fluttering in your chest as you approach him. He's still seated, but he's so tall you barely have to lean in to be face to face with him, standing between his legs. One huge hand comes to rest in the small of your back and he doesn't ease into it as his lips meet yours, the kiss deep from the first instant, his tongue demanding, almost aggressive. You whimper into his mouth, keeping up as best you can, and his hand slides lower, grabbing a good handful of your ass, his grip firm.

"Okay," you hear Alexa say, her voice as if from far away, "that's enough." But neither of you stop, your hands on Braun's shoulders as he pulls you in closer.

"Excuse me?" Alexa says, louder. "Hello, other person in the room, remember?"

You move back, breathless, and for a second you think Braun's not going to let you go, but then he releases you.

"Sorry," you tell Alexa, but Braun doesn't seem even remotely contrite, licking his lips and looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. And honestly, after that kiss, you might let him.

"Threesome," Alexa snipes, gesturing between you all. "Three being the operative word."

You nod, and she stands there, glaring at you, her hands on her hips.

"If you can't do what you're told," she explains, voice dripping condescension, "then you'll have to leave. Is that what you want?"

"No," you reply, too quickly, you know, but you're already far enough gone not to give a shit about how desperate you seem.

Alexa smiles, as if that pleases her. "Get on the bed," she tells you. "On your back."

You obey, lying down, feet planted wide, your knees bent, exposing yourself fully to their gazes, hoping that doing so without being asked will score you some points with Alexa, because you really, really want this to happen.

Brauns shifts in his chair, turning it enough that he can look at you. "Damn, she's wet," he says.

"She is," Alexa agrees, and you think that maybe there's the tiniest hint of approval, perhaps even admiration in the word.

She climbs onto the bed, still fully dressed as she settles herself down between your legs. You're almost trembling with anticipation as you wait, feeling her breath warm on your skin as she leans in, closer and closer, gasping when her mouth at last touches you.

You'd expect someone with an ego the size of Alexa's to be kind of lazy in bed or, at least, not as skilled as they think they are, but she's good at this. Like startlingly good, and you're soon moaning, writhing on the bed, arching your hips up against her face, your hands fisting in the sheets, holding on as you close your eyes.

You're getting close when she suddenly pauses, and you whine, needy, but then you hear her say, "Get over here, get her to suck you."

There's the sound of Braun unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, and you have to open your eyes, watch as he takes out his cock, hand pumping slowly up and down over it. It is big, though, like Alexa said, not freakishly big, and your mouth is already watering, needing to taste it.

You shift enough that you're closer to the edge of the bed and he positions himself near you. He has to crouch a little, bracing his knees against the side of the mattress and even with that you need to raise your head slightly to be in reach of him. He's still stroking himself, and you join in, your hand over his, fingers threaded so you're touching him, allowing him to guide the motion.

"God," Alexa says, exasperated-sounding,  "Do I have to use smaller words? Just put it in her mouth. It's a blowjob, it's not that complicated."

You look up at Braun, who's smirking down at you. "She really likes telling people what to do, doesn't she?" you say.

"It's kind of her thing," he replies.

"You like her telling you what to do?"

He laughs, a breathless rumble that seems to come from deep in his chest. "Not really," he says. "I just like watching her tell other people what to do."

"Telling other women what to do?" you guess, and he grins at you.

"Pretty much."

Alexa sighs theatrically and then snaps her fingers at you. "Less talking," she orders. "More sucking."

It's an order you're more than happy to obey, opening your mouth, lips sliding over the head of Braun's cock as Alexa once again starts to lick you.

He seems content to let you set the pace, taking in as much of him as you can, because the angle's kind of awkward, and it's not so easy to focus when Alexa's talented tongue is circling your clit. And this time she doesn't stop, bringing you right to the brink and then way, way beyond. You suck on Braun's cock, the thick weight of it in your mouth like something grounding you as you come, your body shuddering with pleasure.

They both move away, and you lie there, trying to catch your breath, suddenly feeling helplessly exposed and alone, but then Alexa's crawling up beside you. She's taken off her jeans and panties, and you can smell her as she arranges herself over you, knees either side of your head, facing towards the end of the bed.

Her pussy is wet and tempting above you, just out of reach, and you caress her thighs, shifting so that you're nearer, raising your mouth to get a taste, but she pushes you back down, shooing you off with a light slap.

"No," she snaps. "That's not for you, you only get to watch."

"Please," you say, "I want to, I..."

"No," she repeats, in a tone that you don't dare argue with, and you moan in frustrated want.

"You're always such a tease," Braun says with a chuckle, as if this is her regular thing, and you feel the mattress dip as he climbs onto the bed.

"You need a condom?" Alexa asks him. "There's some in my bag."

"It's fine," he tells her. "I got my own."

He's kneeling, almost sitting back on his heels, and he pulls you in between his legs, positioning you with your knees bent out sideways, your ankles resting over his thighs. And it's so Alexa can see, you realize, so she gets the best possible view of you being fucked. They genuinely don't seem even the slightest bit interested in actually being with each other, but there's an ease to way they do this, an obvious yet unspoken consideration and knowledge of what the other wants that's somehow intensely arousing to be a part of. You wonder how many times they've done this before, how many other girls there's been, and maybe you should feel insulted that you're probably just one more in a long line, but you kind of like it, the idea that you're nothing but another body to be used by them.

But there's no time to think about that right now, not when Braun's pushing his cock slowly inside you, and Alexa's pussy is over you, filling your field of vision, her fingers stroking herself, sliding through her own slick wetness.

And maybe she won't let you lick her, but at least she doesn't seem to mind your hands on her thighs, holding on as Braun starts to fuck you, hard enough that the bed's moving. He's grunting softly on each thrust, and oh god, you think, because it's almost too much as you make a noise that's somewhere between a moan and a wail, maybe too loud for a hotel room, but you don't care.

"Oh yeah," you hear Alexa say. "She likes that." You can see her push two fingers inside herself, fucking them in and out in time with Braun's movements. "Harder," she tells him, and there's the sound of a low, breathless laugh as Braun pushes down on your knees, opening you even wider, slamming into you with a strength that's like nothing you've ever felt.

You can't often come twice in one night, let alone come from just being fucked, yet you can feel it beginning to peak inside you, because while Braun's dick might not quite qualify as monstrous, he's certainly monstrously talented in what he can do with it.

You watch as Alexa's finger flicks over her clit, faster and faster, and you can see her coming just as your own orgasm sends you over the edge, maybe even better and more intense than the first, and there's no time to come down because Braun, it seems, is not yet finished with you.

You whimper lightly, and he doesn't let up, hands gripping you with force enough to bruise, his cock relentless, until finally he lets out a moan so deep you swear you can feel it, as if it vibrates through your body, thrusting into you as he comes.

He's still for a second, but then he pulls out, and you stretch your legs, sighing in relief. Alexa's backing off too, but before she can move away, you grab her wrist, feeling daring. And though she gives you what can only be described as a look, she doesn't protest, letting you suck the taste of her off her fingers, so sweet that you don't ever want to stop, but finally she snatches her hand away, climbing off the bed.

Braun's leaning over you, his arm around your shoulders, helping you sit up. "You good?" he asks with a look of seemingly genuine concern and you nod.

"All good," you say, and Alex glances over at you, disdain once again drawn like a mask over her features.

"Okay," she says. "You can go now." You stand up, still dizzy, but start picking up your clothes off the floor, and she adds, pointedly, "Both of you."

Braun gives you an exaggeratedly comical look, raising his eyebrows, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. It's strange, you think, because while you would have never expected him to be anything like his kayfabe character, it's still kind of a nice-yet-unexpected surprise how funny and charming he actually is.

"Thanks," you say to Alexa when you're dressed. "This has been..."

"Yeah, whatever," she interrupts, disappearing into the bathroom with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Braun shakes his head, opening the door of the room, standing back to let you make your way out, and when you're outside in the hall, you both stop, looking at each other, the awkwardness of the moment dissipating without trace.

"Is she always like that?" you ask, curious.

"Yeah," he says, "Yeah, she is."

You nod, thoughtful, then say, "You want me to drive you anywhere?"

"Nah, I’m good, I've got a room just down the hall there." He points past the elevators. "You got somewhere to stay?"

"Actually, I don't," you reply with a frown. “I'll go downstairs, see if there’s a room here."

"Well..." he says. "If you want to stay with me, you can?"

You don't answer, because you don’t know him well enough to be sure what he means by that, what he might want or not want.

And he seems to understand, holding up one hand and saying, "No expectations. If you just need somewhere to sleep, that's fine. And," he adds with a chuckle that seems to resonate through that cavernous chest, "to be honest I'm kind of done for the night."

"Yeah," you admit with a slightly rueful smile, feeling the pleasantly throbbing ache between your legs. "Me too."

Braun smiles back, and says, "But hey, if you wanted to go again in the morning..." He doesn't finish, letting the words hang in the air.

"With both of you?" you ask. "You and Alexa?"

"Just with me," he replies. "Alexa doesn't like to be with the same girl more than once."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I don't ask."

"But you don't mind being with someone again?"

"When it's good, sure."

You smirk at him, more certain now. "That was pretty good, wasn't it?"

"It really was.”

“Yeah,” you agree happily.

 "And just so you know,” he says, “if you like being bossed around by guys too, I can take real good care of that for you."

"Can you now?" you say, playful, and you have to admit, the thought of being told what to do in that low, deep growl of of a voice kind of does things to you. Good things.

He grins. "I sure can."

"Well," you say, "maybe we should get some sleep then, because I think we might need our energy for tomorrow morning."

"Sounds like a plan, baby," he replies, and you laugh.

"Lead the way," you tell him.

o83.

[[ Random Survey Questions // By @x-hallie-x ]] 1. When you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, what kinds of things are you likely to do? How often do you find you have trouble sleeping? >> I read when that happens. I don’t have trouble sleeping all that often, but sometimes I’ll have trouble getting to sleep (especially if sleep paralysis is getting in the way) or staying asleep. They’re not really chronic issues, though, and are pretty recent developments.

2. What was the last lengthy packet you filled out? >> I can’t remember the last time I had to fill out something like this. Maybe when I first visited Heartside Clinic?

3. Are you a patient person? What is one way you have a lot of patience? What about not very much patience at all? >> I have a pretty high capacity for patience, just in general. Specific situations that might cause me to be impatient are things like waiting to go somewhere cool or dealing with a situation that I have no investment in but am forced to deal with anyway for whatever reason.

4. At what time during the day do you tend to feel your best? What about the worst? >> I don’t know. I feel pretty much the same no matter the time of day, unless I’m sleepy.

5. What was the last thing you did that you wish you could take back or do differently? >> I guess I could wish I hadn’t had Sparrow take me to Urgent Care when the situation magically cleared itself up on the way there, but the walk back home wasn’t too bad and no lasting harm was done, so... like, whatever.

6. Are there any blogs that you check first thing in the morning or on a regular basis? In general, what kinds of blogs do you like to follow? >> I get notifications for updates from some blogs, so I’ll just check those blogs when I do phone-related activities in the morning, and sometimes throughout the day depending on what else I’m doing. I follow way too many blogs to have a type, lol.

7. How frequently do you stay overnight somewhere that isn’t your own home? What things do you miss about home when you’re away? Do you tend to get homesick easily? >> I stay overnight at other places so infrequently that I actually have a difficult time falling asleep anywhere that isn’t home or the Wayland house (for the first night, particularly; after that, it evens out). The Wayland house gets off easy I guess because I stayed there for the first month when I moved out here. I usually just miss the freedom of being in my own apartment and knowing where everything is and having all my stuff within reach. But I wouldn’t say I get homesick per se, like I love to be other places; I sometimes get the “I want to go home” feeling when I’m overloaded, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I actually want to go home, ya dig.

8. Do you tend to eat more in the beginning of the day or at night? Do you have a tendency to snack when you’re bored? If so, what kinds of snacks do you normally go for? >> I’m not sure. It’s summer right now, so I just eat less in general, which makes my eating habits more nebulous and harder to track. I snack sometimes when I need something else to do with my hands/face, but sometimes I just chew gum for that.

9. If you have any dietary restrictions, do you ever miss foods you can’t have? If not, what’s something you haven’t had for a long time that you wish you could eat again? >> I would love to eat Louisiana food again. One day.

10. What was the best thing to happen to you today? What about the worst? >> I won a $15 Wendy’s gift card at Resident Appreciation Day (Sparrow won $25 to Papa John’s, which we’re going to use later today). The worst thing is, I guess, that I didn’t win the $25 AMC Theaters card, because I really wanted that. :p 

11. Is there something you still can’t do even though you’re an adult or might be expected to do this thing? >> I don’t do well on phone calls and I avoid them as much as possible. I am also pretty unemployable.

12. When was the last time you changed your opinion on a relatively big or serious issue? Overall, do you feel your opinions on things have changed a lot since you were younger or do you still feel the same about many things? What is one opinion you never see yourself changing? >> I don’t remember the last time that happened. But yeah, my opinions on things have definitely changed -- or, expanded might be a better word -- since I was younger... as an especially mercurial individual, I’d be kind of weirded out if they hadn’t. I don’t think I’ll ever change my opinion on religion, though -- I will always be fascinated by it and supportive of it in general, and I will also remain unsupportive of specific religious practices that divide and belittle people.

13. If you have a mental illness, in what ways has it made your life different from those around you? What challenges have you faced, what have you overcome, and what have you had to miss out on? >> I think of myself as neurodivergent, despite the fact that I haven’t been tested for that -- I could be wrong, of course, but then that’d just make all these experiences I’ve had in life even weirder than they already are. Neurodivergence is actually the Occam’s Razor conclusion here. So that would mean my brain developed differently than is common, and my perceptions and philosophies and understanding of the world around me are equally divergent from what is common. I process things differently, I experience emotions differently, I socialise differently, and so on. It’s a pretty pervasive thing. My social development was pretty stunted until adulthood (when I was able to do something about it). I had to learn the intricacies of communication, the differences in the way I respond to things and the ways other people do, how to navigate the world without sticking out like a sore thumb, how to recognise danger, how to avoid social traps, all that shit -- and I guess I picked both a great and terrible place to learn all that stuff in, in NYC, but at least I managed. I’ve missed out on childhood because I feel like I really wasn’t fully present for it, trapped in my own head as I was; I’ve missed out on half of high school because I was usually hospitalised (I’d developed a moderate-to-severe cutting habit due to trauma); I fell off the socially-accepted life path somewhere in high school and never managed to get back on (once the train leaves the station, catching up only gets more and more difficult as time goes on). None of this really bothers me by now, because if there’s one thing a born wanderer will always do, it’s carve a place for itself no matter where it is. I have blazed my own trail. It is mine alone, and I am glad for it -- because no other path would have suited me.

14. Again, if you have MH issues, do you ever wonder what your life would’ve been like without them? If you could snap your fingers and make your illness disappear, would you? Or would something stop you from doing this, and if so, what? >> I mean, I guess I’ve wondered that for funsies, but I can’t imagine being anyone but myself, so. (And the thing about neurodivergence is that it’s literally built into the fabric of who a person is -- if my brain had developed “normally”, I wouldn’t be the same person at all. And I can’t imagine myself as anyone else, so the imagining falls apart.) I do not want to snap my fingers and make a completely different person appear in my place. I do love who I am, it’s just difficult being who I am sometimes. I can handle a little difficulty. I’ve done so this far, after all.

15. Are you good at getting along with other people even if they have vastly different views from yours? When was the last time you had to interact with someone like this, and how did it go? >> Yeah, I can usually get along with someone if I really feel like it, no matter what they think -- with some limits, obviously (there’s no way I’m ever going to get along with a neo-Nazi, let’s be serious). But here’s the thing: most of the time, I don’t care enough to try in the first place, lmao. So it doesn’t matter.

16. What is one way you show another person you care about them? What are things that make you feel cared about in return? >> If I give someone my time and attention, I usually care about them in some fashion. I really don’t just go giving that out, and I don’t feel bad about withholding it if I don’t care about someone enough. Like, what are they going to do, be mean to me? Big deal, I’d have to care for that to matter. So if I care, I at least want to pay attention to them and listen to what they have to say and try to understand where they’re coming from even if I don’t fully grok it. It’s the effort, I guess -- I put effort in. As a pretty apathetic person, that means a lot coming from me, even if other people see it as unremarkable. I feel cared about when people pay attention to me and remember things I’ve said and respect my boundaries and appreciate my creations and encourage me and stuff. 

17. When was the last time you congratulated someone? Were you happy for them, indifferent, jealous? >> I don’t remember. I was probably indifferent emotion-wise, but like... idk, if I say “congratulations” then I at least want you to feel good about whatever it is you did or got. I don’t have to feel anything for that to be true.

18. Are you typically happy for other peoples’ successes? Was there ever a time you just couldn’t bring yourself to be, no matter what? >> I’m typically emotionally indifferent to other people’s successes, but I still want them to succeed. Like, I wouldn’t discourage them or downplay their success, I’m just not going to jump around the room or whatever-the-fuck. It’s okay, I don’t expect anyone to do it to me, either (unless they want to, obviously). And yeah, there are plenty of times when envy or dislike or whatever prevented me from even going through the motions of happiness on their behalf. It be’s like that sometimes.

19. What was the last milestone you reached in your life (graduating, buying a car, starting a family, etc)? What milestone are you going for next, if any? >> The last milestone of that nature I reached was co-signing the lease for this apartment, I guess? I don’t know. What even is a milestone. I want my next milestone to be moving out of this place, tbh. But I think the next one is probably marriage, unless we really do move in March when our lease is up again.

20. Do you feel as though you’ve lived your life according to what society typically expects, or is your life more unconventional? >> No, my life has been quite unconventional. This is the most conventional it’s been since the beginning, and that’s why I’m often so weird about it. Sometimes, to a wild thing, safety can feel like a cage. It’s a brain glitch, don’t mind it.

21. Do you enjoy getting comments or messages? How likely are you to leave comments or messages for other people? >> Sure, I like to socialise. I don’t know how likely I am to do it -- just whenever the desire strikes, I guess. I don’t think too hard about it.

22. How would you describe your handwriting? Is it what comes naturally, or have you ever purposely worked to improve or stylize your handwriting in a particular way? Do you know anyone who has particularly interesting or unusual handwriting? >> My handwriting used to be damn good, especially seeing as I was raised by someone with impeccable handwriting and calligraphy skills, but it’s degraded as I started to buy my own computers and shit. Now I’m almost exclusively a typer, and I haven’t written anything by hand that wasn’t an address on an envelope or a short form for some government thing in a long time. But my handwriting is still better than Sparrow’s, lmao, so she always has me write things out. I could always get better at it again, because it’s not difficult; I just have to care enough. I’m still considering it.

23. When are you most likely to scream (either out of fright, anger, or whatever)? Do you scream or yell often? When was the last time someone screamed at you (or in your presence)? >> I don’t scream, really. I don’t even like yelling, I just... I have one of those voices, lmao -- it’s quiet usually, but when I get passionate or upset about something, it really projects. I’d probably be great on a stage. The last time I recall being screamed at was over the holidays, at the Wayland house. Not an event I really feel like rehashing, either.

24. Do you ever ignore other people? How do you tend to react to being ignored by someone? >> Sure, I've done that. Just not frequently. I usually ignore people when they’re either trying to piss me off (like a troll on tumblr) or trying to manipulate me into responding by being antagonistic. I can’t remember the last time I was legitimately ignored by someone, so I don’t know how I’d react. I’d probably just go on about my business, like... what’s the point of doing anything else, really? Maybe whine to Can Calah about it, or something.

25. When was the last time you felt like your feelings werent being respected? Do you think you do a good job of respecting the feelings of others? >> The last time I felt like that was when I was trying to set boundaries for myself in my last relationship, and it felt like I shouldn’t even want what I wanted (listen, don’t ask, by now I don’t even remember why it felt that way), but like, that’s ancient history now. (I mean, it is to me, anyway. The only reason I thought about it now is because it’s the answer to the question, but other than now I haven’t thought about it any time recently.) I don’t know if I do a good job of respecting the feelings of others; I just do my best and hope it’s good enough. Isn’t that all any of us do?

26. If you have a pet, what is one personality quirk that they have? If you don’t have pets, was there ever a time when you had one or wanted one? >> I’ve had pets briefly, but really, I don’t... even want one at this point. They’re more trouble than I have patience for.

27. What would you say is your STRONGEST emotion? Maybe not the most frequent, but the most intense? And what emotion do you feel most weakly, even if you might feel it more often? >> I don’t know what my strongest or weakest emotion is. I’m really not emotionally connected, in case that isn’t already clear, lmao.

28. When was the last time you were up to see the sunrise? Do you tend to pay attention to things like that (sunrises, sunsets, rainstorms, etc) or do you not really care about that sort of thing? >> I was awake at the time of sunrise this morning, but I wasn’t watching it or anything. I do pay attention to the weather, but I won’t necessarily drop what I’m already doing to pay attention to it. Unless it’s a thunderstorm. I love those.

29. What was the last thing you bought for someone else? What about the last thing someone bought for you? And the last thing you bought yourself? >> The last thing I bought for someone else was... I think a book for Rez’s birthday? That was months ago, but I don’t think I’ve bought anything else? Unless it was something for Sparrow, but like, we live in the same household, we just kinda spend our money that way by default. The last thing someone bought for me (that wasn’t Sparrow) was the mindfulness book that Hallie bought me last month. The last thing I bought myself was a Gatorade (lmao not a hot one! a blue FROSTI BOI) and a pack of bubble gum.

30. How do you feel about the day you’ve been having so far? Or if it’s just started, what kinds of things do you plan to do today? >> My day was all right. A good old Saturday.

Chapter 31: Oscar Ramirez

I got over the flu but it left behind a restless drawn-tight feeling inside me that I couldn’t shake. I went to visit Ari every day but other than that I didn’t leave my room much. My mom finally insisted on scheduling an appointment for me to see one of her counselor colleagues, Oscar Ramirez. I didn’t fight her too hard on it. I knew it was probably a good idea to talk someone. Oscar worked for the same shelter/halfway house my mom did in addition to having an off-site office. I’d met a few of her colleagues before but never Oscar, which made the idea of talking to him easier somehow.

Ari had been released from the hospital for about a week and a half by the time I went to talk to Oscar for the first time. I’d been going over to Ari’s house every day to visit him. Sometimes we’d go for “walk and rolls” around the neighborhood but mostly we hung out in his room. I decided to read The Sun Also Rises aloud to him (mostly because Hemingway’s sparse, terse writing style reminded me of Ari, but I didn’t tell him that). I read a chapter or two each visit and we’d talk about it after. One time we talked about where we’d go if we decided to become dissolute ex-patriots like the characters in the novel and travel the world together. I wanted to go to Paris; Ari wanted to go to Iceland or Norway. When I asked him why, he said he was sick of the Texas heat and wanted to see the Northern Lights.

“I bet there’s no light pollution up there,” he said.

“Sure, no light pollution, but the winter’s colder than a witch’s tit.”

He snorted. “I wouldn’t mind the cold.”

“How do you know? You’ve lived in Texas your whole life.”

“It snows here sometimes, you know. Like two Christmases ago.”

“I know, but El Paso winter is nothing like up there. We’d need to bring special snowsuits and camping gear or risk dying of hypothermia.”

“It’d be worth it though. To go somewhere so remote and cold and quiet.”

“Sounds like you really want to go on vacation to The Fortress of Solitude.”

“Hey, don’t knock The Fortress. A man needs a place where he can be alone and think.”

“And freeze his face and nuts off in the process.”

“That’s just the price you pay to stop everyone being all up in your business all the time. And anyway, Superman is impervious to frost bite. And don’t talk about Superman’s nuts. That’s sacrilegious.”

“I wasn’t talking about Superman’s nuts specifically. Just frozen nuts in general.”

“Okay okay enough with the nuts talk. Jesus.”

“What? They’re just a body part. No weirder than pinky toes or noses.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Hey I’m pretty wiped…so…I might take a nap or something.”

Ari’s face was flushed he looked sort of agitated so I cut my visit short after that. I could tell something was off between us but I didn’t try to press him. Sometimes when I went to visit I wasn’t even sure if he wanted me there. I figured he had every reason to be resentful of me. It was my fault he was stuck at home for the rest of the summer, at the mercy of his painfully itchy and useless legs. I was afraid more than anything that he’d want to stop being friends with me if I needled him too much or asked him what was wrong. So it was easier to talk about books or imaginary plans to travel the world together than what I actually wanted to talk about, which was how badly I was going to miss him when we moved and how sorry I still was about the accident.

When the time came for my appointment with the counselor, I was nervous even though I knew seeking counseling was a totally normal thing to do. Nothing to be ashamed of.

“Do I have to lay down on a couch?” I asked my mom on the car ride over.

She smiled. “Of course not. That’s the sort of thing you really only see in movies nowadays.”

“Good, because that part always seemed a little weird. Do I have to analyze my dreams?”

“Only if you want to.”

“What if I run out of things to say and we just stare at each other in awkward silence the whole time?”

“You’ve never had a particular problem with maintaining conversation, Dante. You can talk to him about whatever you want. Or not talk. No pressure.”

What I really wanted to ask her was if she thought the accident had messed me up somehow, or worse, messed Ari up, and that’s the real reason she wanted me to talk to a counselor. Not physically messed us up. But if I’d caused something to get broken inside us. I had no issue with the field of psychiatry in general, seeing as it was my mother’s profession, but I didn’t like the idea of a stranger realizing there was something wrong with me that needed fixing.

Oscar had an office in the El Paso Child and Teen Guidance Center, which was located in a shopping center. That sort of surprised me. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t the totally mundane looking storefront hiding in plain sight next to a hair salon, pet store and a travel agency. Oscar greeted us at the reception desk, where he kissed my mom on the cheek and shook my hand.

Oscar was around my parents’ age. He was on the stocky side, but not fat or anything. He was the type of solid build that you could describe as equally fitting for a linebacker and a big teddy bear. He had a round, friendly face and close cut salt-and-pepper black hair that didn’t do much to make his appearance less boyish and wholesome. He had a firm handshake and big hands.

“Dante, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Your mom has told me a lot about you.”

“Thanks, you too. I mean, nice to meet you, too.”

After my mom checked me in and filled out some paperwork, she left me with Oscar and told me she’d be waiting for me in the reception area.

Oscar’s office was bright and decorated with colorful furniture, throw rugs and artwork, which also surprised me. In my mind I’d pictured something much more stuffy and clinical. To one side of the room was a small couch and an armchair, both plush and comfy looking; between them was a coffee table with a box of Kleenex on it, which I was determined I would not have to use come hell or high water. On the other side of the room was a kid-sized table and chairs plus art supplies and toy boxes, set up like a mini preschool. Seeing the kid stuff made me feel strange. A little sad for the kids who needed to come in here. The office also had a desk, several bookshelves, and a beverage station. Overall it felt more like a living room than an office.

Oscar gestured toward the couch. “Please, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some water? Tea?”

“I’m okay.”

Oscar sat down in the armchair across from me. “So, Dante. Before we get started, I just wanted to let you know that even though your mother and I are colleagues and she let me know a little bit about why she wanted you to come see me today, I want you to feel like this is a safe space to share anything that’s on your mind with the understanding that I take your trust and confidentiality seriously.”

“Even though I’m a minor and you’re legally allowed to tell my parents what we discuss?” I asked. I’d done my research about confidentiality ahead of time. More than the accident I wanted to talk about what it meant that I loved my best friend who was a boy, but I’d decided already to keep that part of me sealed in the vault no matter what. I couldn’t be 100% sure he wouldn’t tell my parents about that.

Oscar smiled. “You are definitely Soledad’s son. Yes, you’re absolutely correct. Even though you’re a minor I would breach confidentiality only if I was worried for your personal safety or the safety of others or in the rare instance that my notes were subpoenaed by a court order.”

“Wow, that would be pretty badass.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow but was still grinning. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Sure, yeah. I was just joking. Discussion of client confidentiality protocol: check.”

It was a relief to hear him say he wasn’t going to tell my parents everything we talked about, but I still wasn’t quite ready to dive right into the accident.

“I like your office,” I said, stalling. I pointed to the kids’ area. “Do you work with a lot of children?”

“A fair number.”

“Do you do art therapy with them?”

“Sometimes. It depends on the child.”

“I’ve read all about the field of art therapy. I think it’s fascinating. If I don’t become a professional artist I might become an art therapist.”

“Would you like to do any drawing right now? We could start with some art exercises if you’re not in the mood to talk at the moment.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s hard for me to draw because of my broken arm. I’m a right-y. But thanks for offering.”

“So you’re okay to talk?”

I nodded.

“I’m glad. So, I understand from your mother that you and a friend of yours were involved in a car accident about three weeks ago and she’s concerned you haven’t been quite yourself since. That you’ve been having nightmares and seem much more withdrawn than usual. Do you want to talk about the accident? Or about what’s been on your mind?”

“So she already told you what happened?”

“Briefly. But I’d like to hear it from you, if you feel comfortable talking about it.”

“Well, it’d been raining and I went out into the street and didn’t see a car coming.” For some reason I didn’t want to tell him about the injured bird I’d seen. “Ari pushed me out of the way of the car and broke both his legs and his arm. He could have died but he didn’t.”

“Ari is your friend?”

“Yeah, my best friend.”

“How is he handling everything?”

“Um. Ok. I dunno. He can be kind of hard to read sometimes. They recently let him out of the hospital. He’s stuck in casts for the rest of the summer because of me.”

“And how have you felt since the accident?”

“I think my mom is worried that I’m showing signs of anxiety, depression and PTSD and that’s why they want me to talk to you. But I don’t have PTSD.”

“No?”

“No. I looked it up in the DSM-IV.” I ticked each symptom off with my fingers. “I’m not having recurring flashbacks or panic attacks. I’m not avoiding cars or the street. I’m not having angry outbursts. Well, I’m still kind of pissed at my parents about deciding to move to Chicago but that’s a different thing. Yeah, my dreams have been a little weird and I’m not sleeping great but that’s because my arm cast is so annoying. So I think we can safely say I don’t have PTSD. Possibly a little low-level anxiety. But I do deep breaths if I start feeling weird.”

“I don’t want to rule anything out just yet, but I’m happy to hear you’re listening to your body and your emotions. What do you mean when you say you start feeling weird?”

“I guess…sad. Stomach crampy. Frustrated. I think I’m worried about Ari. About how he’s recovering. About not being able to help him when we move.”

“It sounds to me like you might blame yourself for what happened to Ari.”

“Well, yeah, because it was my fault.”

“Who said it was your fault?”

“No one said it was my fault. But it obviously was.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s not feelings, it’s the facts. I went out to the street, I wasn’t paying attention and Ari got hurt because I was stupid and off in my own little world instead of paying attention to the road. And the thing about Ari is, he doesn’t like it when I’m upset, so he only let me apologize once and then he said we’re not allowed to talk about the accident anymore. He has some kind of stoic boy code about it. He wants to pretend it never happened.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Well, I don’t think we should, you know, dwell on it or anything. But I want him to know how sorry I am that I almost got him killed and ruined the rest of his summer.”

“Did Ari say anything like that to you? That you ruined his summer?”

“No. But he’s not big on talking anyway. But, like I said before, it’s a fact. Now he’s stuck in a wheelchair until his legs heal and he can’t do anything except hang around his house and read books and I know he’s pissed about it even if he won’t say anything.”

“Has he ever expressed anger or regret about what he did? That he saved your life?”

“No. Nothing like that. He’s just been moody and sullen. I mean, he’s been in a lot of pain so I don’t blame him for being crabby. I just don’t want him to hate me.”

“Why do you think he would hate you? It seems to me to be quite the opposite, that he cares about you very much. Do you want to tell me about him? How did you two become friends?”

“We met at the pool. I offered to give him swimming lessons. Because he didn’t know how to swim properly.”

“You like to swim?”

“Almost more than anything. Well, I like swimming, reading, drawing, stargazing and hanging out with Ari pretty much equally.” I lifted my cast arm and pulled a face. “Now my life is pretty much limited to reading and hanging out with Ari and teaching myself to become ambidextrous. Not that I’m complaining. I mean, I’m lucky to be alive. I know it’s babyish but I miss swimming with him. I wish I could retcon the whole day of the accident.”

“Retcon?”

“Oh that’s a comic book thing. Basically when the writers change things retroactively in a story to make up for continuity errors. Sort of like a big do-over. Usually that sort of thing bugs the heck out of me because it seems so lazy. But I get the appeal now. Like you have God’s big eraser.”

“It’s natural to wish you could change the past so easily. But it’s equally important to learn how to move forward. And to not beat yourself up over something you can’t change.”

I shrugged and picked at my cast. “I just keep thinking that if it had been Ari in the middle of the road, I wouldn’t have been able to save him. I wouldn’t have been fast or strong enough. He was like Superman, the way he dove at me and pushed me out of the way.”

“Why do you think you wouldn’t have been able to help him if your roles were reversed?”

“Because when I saw the car coming, I just froze.”

“That could have been your body experiencing a fight or flight reaction. And also Ari saw the car coming whereas you did not, yes? So he had more time to think and react.”

“But still, I don’t think I could ever be as brave as he was.”

“You may be underestimating yourself and your strength. It sounds to me like you’re beating yourself up about a theoretical past as well as construing what actually happened to place all the blame on yourself. Just imagine what the people driving the car must have felt like. They most likely felt guilt as well. But motor accidents happen so quickly, in a blink of an eye, that it’s not helpful to play the blame game after the fact, particularly if it’s determined that the driver wasn’t under the influence of drugs or alcohol and the accident was just that: an accident. I would advise you to try not to blame yourself for the actions of others. And if that’s difficult, you may want to ask yourself, what am I getting out of continuing to blame myself for something that was out of my control?”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that.

He must have seen my confusion so he rephrased his question. “In other words, are you holding onto feelings of guilt and shame because you don’t think you’re worthy of having a friend who cares about you enough to put his own life in danger to save yours?”

I didn’t think I was worthy of it. But thinking about that made me start to feel like I might cry, which I had been determined not to do, so I clamped down and said nothing for awhile.

After a bit of silence Oscar said, “You know, I never read comics but my daughter loves them.”

“Really? Which ones? Betty and Veronica?”

“Actually The X-Men is her favorite. She loves all the Saturday morning cartoons based on comics, too.”

“How old is she?”

“Twelve.”

“And she doesn’t think X-Men is too scary?”

“Well, she’s always been a tough little cookie. Never was into any of the princess stuff. Except She-Ra Princess of Power. She adores She-Ra.”

“She-Ra is pretty rad.”

“Do you have a favorite comic?”

“Ari teases me about it, but I really like Archie. He thinks they’re lame. Which, sure, yeah, they can be pretty cheesy. But I don’t like the really dark comics.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no rule that says you have to like all the same things your friends do.”

“Believe me I know that. I know I’m a little weird.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s not a secret or anything. Ari’s the first guy I’ve met my age who really gets me. I’ve never really had a best friend like him before. Not since we moved to El Paso anyway. I had a best friend in California but that was already years ago. We hardly see each other or write letters anymore.”

“And you’re worried that the accident and the move to Chicago will have a negative impact on your friendship with Ari? That you’ll lose touch and stop being friends? And you blame yourself for this future you see happening?”

I nodded, hoping to dislodge the traitorous lump that was forming in my throat.

“You’ve told me Ari hasn’t expressed anger or regret to you about the accident. It sounds to me like he values you and your friendship very much. He values you enough to have put himself at risk when he saw you were in danger. This doesn’t sound to me like a fair weather friend. And there are many ways to stay in touch. You can write letters and talk on the phone.”

“Sure, yeah.”

“I’d like to circle back to what you said at the start, about you being insistent about not having PTSD.”

“Okay…”

“It’s important to remember that everyone reacts to stress and trauma differently. You have in fact experienced a traumatic event. Your life and the life of your best friend was put in danger. For many people, acute stages of trauma may occur two to four weeks after the event itself. So it’s totally normal for your life and mental health to take some time settle back into place. You’re allowed to feel frustrated, angry, worried, scared and whatever other emotions might arise. It’s important to not rush to judge or ignore your feelings. You’ve mentioned that Ari isn’t talkative when it comes to expressing emotions, which is valid and what he needs right now to process the accident. But for you, I get the sense that you have a lot you’d like to express, either verbally or visually. Would journaling or drawing about the accident help you move forward?”

“Maybe…I usually keep a journal but I haven’t been able to write or draw much with my broken arm. When I draw with my left hand it’s like I’m in preschool again.”

“As I’m sure you know, artists express emotions in non-figurative ways all the time. If I asked you to express your feelings about the accident in abstract visual form and not worry how it looks compared to your other drawings, would that be a helpful thing to do?”

“Maybe. It still might look like chicken scratch.”

“Nothing wrong with that. If you feel more comfortable creating a collage we can try that instead.”

"I'd like to try to draw I think."

Oscar got out some paper and colored pencils and markers and charcoals for me. Instead of sitting at the kiddie table he let me sit at his desk to work. The first thing he had me do was draw how thinking about the accident made me feel.

Without really thinking about it, I picked up a black charcoal and started drawing the injured bird in the middle of the road. I used heavy black strokes. It was frustrating at first to not have complete control of the charcoal like I usually did but just putting marks and lines on the paper felt okay. But the drawing still left me with a hollow feeling.

“This is what I saw,” I told Oscar. “I saw an injured bird in the road and I went to pick it up and that’s why I didn’t see the car coming. I think I killed it. The bird.”

“And this makes you sad?”

“Yeah. I wanted to save it. But it still got killed. And Ari got hurt. It was stupid of me. I should have seen the car coming.”

“Is there anything you can do to this drawing now to make you feel less sad about it?”

“When I first saw the bird, it was on the road. But then I picked it up and held it close to my chest.”

I drew a hand around the bird, but it still didn’t feel right. Too stark and bleak. Not how I remembered the bird at all.

“The bird had colors on it. But I can’t really remember what they were exactly.”

“It’s your bird now, Dante. You can add whatever colors to it you want.”

I remembered the made-up birds I used to draw when I was little: the rainbow rocketbird, the tawny tailblaster. Pages and pages of sketchbooks filled with imaginary creatures. I hadn’t judged myself then about how anatomically accurate they were or how technically proficient I was. I drew and created because it felt good. Right now my drawing didn’t make me feel good so I added colors to my bird’s wings and I turned the hand into a nest. That felt better.

I felt calmer after my drawing was finished. But something still bothered me.

“Do you think me changing the drawing of the bird is like retconning the accident?” I asked. “I mean, when I started, I thought I would draw the bird like I remembered it. But that made me feel terrible to picture it all stiff and dark and lifeless. I wanted to protect it. Now it looks more like it’s asleep than it’s dead. But that’s not what actually happened.”

“If drawing the bird like this helped you reframe your sadness and anger into something beautiful, then I think it’s a good thing.”

“It’s not cheating?”

“No, I don’t think it’s cheating at all. In fact, I think it’s more like forgiving.”

“Forgiving who?”

“Yourself.”

Living With You

read on ff.net and ao3

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen

rating: t+ for sexual joking, swear words, and violence

pairings in this chapter: nalu, gruvia

characters in this chapter: natsu, lucy, juvia, gray

reblogs are appreciated <3

Waking up early for once, Lucy was excited to find that Natsu was not in her bed. The twerp had finally decided to respect her space after he had both slept next to her and ran into her while she wore a towel.

Not that she minded him sleeping next to her, of course.

She enjoyed having him next to her while she slept, and although it wasn’t a familiar feeling, she liked the idea of having someone sleep next to her while she was in her most vulnerable state. Someone to protect her and be ready to fight whatever came her way. And that definitely described Natsu.

Smiling as she got out of bed, she wandered slightly down the hall to take a shower and ready herself for the day of work. Although she had the day off from actual work, she had a lot of things to get done that day. Washing the dishes from last night and the morning’s breakfast, calling the psychiatrist she was referred to, going grocery shopping, paying the bills that were her responsibility, and going home to write were just a few of the things that she needed to accomplish. Who knew that living with three other people would be so exhausting?

After washing up and pulling on her clothes and applying makeup, Lucy walked down the hall to see Gray watching TV while eating his usual breakfast of cereal and toast.

“Good morning,” Lucy greeted cheerfully, and Gray mumbled something in response.

“You could at least say hello,” Lucy eyed Gray warily, and Gray turned to say something to his roommate and friend that she would have never thought would ever come out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna ask Juvia out on a date today,” he said, scratching his neck nervously.

Lucy covered her mouth before running over and plopping down on the couch next to him. “Gray, that’s great! Where are you going to ask her to go with you?”

“I thought I’d ask her to go to a movie and dinner. Something simple,” Gray chuckled awkwardly, a soft flush covering his face.

Lucy thought back to the first time she met Gray. There was a used condom on the floor, an obvious sign of his shameless conquests. Then he brought home Olivia and Alicia, who both were not the girl for him. Lucy realized that she wasn’t sure what other girls he could have dated or had sex with at the time that she was moved in, but obviously they didn’t last.

But then he met Juvia. Although odd in her pursuits to woo Gray, she was kind and intelligent and a good friend. Maybe she knew about the other girls that he was dating at the moment, but Juvia stood by her vow to have Gray as her own once and for all.

And slowly, Gray started changing. He became less gruff and kinder, and even though the change was tedious and nothing like they’d thought it would be, Gray finally decided to ask Juvia out.

“How are you going to ask her?” Lucy asked, getting up and heading to the refrigerator to make herself some cereal of her own.

Gray’s pleased expression dropped. “I-I didn’t think about that,” he said sheepishly.

Beginning to eat her cereal, Lucy chewed and swallowed before answering him with her own idea. “Why don’t you go to her work and bring her some flowers? It would make her day to have something to brighten up the shop.”

Gray nodded with a soft smile before finishing his cereal, thanking Lucy on the way to the kitchen to put his bowl in the sink. He completed his routine before heading out, saying goodbye to Lucy on his way to the car. Watching Gray leave, she opened the window and gave him a thumbs-up as a good luck charm. He would need it if he was going to have the strength to ask Juvia on a date.

Closing the window gently, Lucy began to tidy up the house. With four people living in the small apartment, there was a lot of cleaning to get done--and not just because three of them were men. Lucy could make quite a mess of her own when she made dinner or decided to write, and she hated that her messes were almost as big as the guys’.

Lucy began to clean up the coffee table and saw Natsu’s technology magazine laying there. A smile slowly began to make its way from one end of her mouth to the other, and suddenly she was shaking her head and grinning at the way he would drink his decaffeinated coffee and read his magazine every “morning” and then go to sleep. He had a wonky schedule: go to sleep at 2 PM while everyone was at work after drinking his regular coffee and leaving a ring on the glass coffee table no matter how many times he wiped it down, wake up at 10 PM and be at work at 11. Then he would go to work for eight hours, sometimes nine if he had to work on an old lady’s computer and the task became more tedious. Natsu would then take his medication and plop himself down in bed when he got tired of playing video games, and then wake up and do the same thing over again.

Lucy walked to Natsu’s room, smiling when she saw his door thrown open like normal. He didn’t really spend much time in his room other than sleeping and reading comics, but he always left the door open as if he had just sped out of the place like his life depended on it. Stepping in quietly, Lucy sat down on Natsu’s bed, hearing it creak under her weight. Looking to the bedside table, she spotted a bottle of pills that Natsu had been prescribed by his psychiatrist. Interest nipped at her as she picked it up, wondering if maybe the medication he took would be good for her to suggest to her psychiatrist.

Of course, Lucy’s anxiety was worse than Natsu’s, and Natsu’s depression was harder to deal with than Lucy’s. She and her psychiatrist who she had just been set up with over the phone would have to find a good balance for her and her disorders. Shaking the pill bottle and setting it back down, Lucy noticed that it was completely empty. Curious, she grasped the bottle in her hand and read to find how many refills there were left.

Zero, it read. There were zero refills left.

Lucy clapped a hand to her mouth, knowing that Natsu would have to see a psychiatrist or some sort of doctor in order to get his medication refilled. Withdrawals were not pretty, especially with antidepressants. Lucy had never experienced this horror herself, but she knew that Natsu would be in a funk for a while before he got them back.

Picking up her phone, Lucy decided to call Natsu. It would be nice to hear his voice after not seeing him for a while, and she needed to tell him that he needed to get to a doctor immediately.

After a few rings, Natsu picked up. “Hey, Luce!”

“Hi, Natsu. How are you doing?” she asked, pressing a soothing tone into her voice.

Natsu waited for a few beats before answering. “How are you doing? You sound weirder than normal,” he said, concerned.

“I’m fine, but you haven’t answered my question,” Lucy responded.

“Since when do I answer your questions? Especially since you ask such weird ones,” Natsu replied, a grin on his face. He knew it would elicit a reaction from her.

“Don’t change the subject!” Lucy growled, irritation pulsing in her temple. Sighing, she went straight to the point. “Did you know that you’re out of pills?”

Lucy could practically hear his confused look over the phone. “Yeah, why?”

“You also don’t have any refills,” she pointed out, and she heard a sharp inhale.

“Shit. Thanks for reminding me, Luce,” Natsu said, and Lucy shook her head. How could someone not know information that vital?

“No problem. Just go to the doctor as soon as you can, okay?” Lucy said before saying her goodbyes and hanging up. Getting up from Natsu’s bed, she meandered her way into the kitchen to make herself a quick snack before going out to do the rest of her chores for the day. She wanted to be home in enough time to see Natsu before he went to bed.

With a jolt, Lucy remembered that she had to mail the letter to her father soon. She was not looking forward to that. Her father would surely spit back a reply that if she didn’t get her behind over to his estate by next week that there would be a limo waiting for her to come home.

Home. It wasn’t really a calming, soothing word for her. It brought up feelings of abandonment, pain, abuse, and not anything like what her father wanted to paint a picture of it being now. She sure as hell didn’t want to go back.

So why the hell did she want to mail that letter so badly? In its pages it demonstrated a firm need to stay at the apartment, and exactly how Lucy felt. In a firm tone she had written that she had no desire to go to the place she would never call a home, and she had pretty much given her father the written equivalent of the middle finger.

Maybe it was because she finally wanted to tell her father that she had a place to call home.

Looking around her apartment, she realized that it was more home than her father’s estate would ever be. The three men she lived with were more family than her own father could ever hope to become. And that was the saddest awareness that Lucy had come to in quite a while.

Pushing back her feelings of anxiety and tears, she made her snack and coffee to bring along with her and stepped out into the gorgeous autumn scene, hoping that this one would be different than the last.

Swinging the door open after coming home from grocery shopping and grabbing the bills from the mail, Lucy held the grocery bags in her arms like they were precious cargo. To Gajeel maybe they were, but to Lucy they were just regular ingredients to regular meals. Chuckling, she noted that maybe she had been spoiled since she started living here. Whipped cream not coming from a can and fresh basil had made Lucy gain some extra weight in her hips and butt, but she didn’t see anyone complaining.

Natsu definitely wasn’t complaining as he watched Lucy put away the groceries. She wore a pair of green cargo shorts with a bow in the center that looked like the fabric of the bubble skirts she wore often, and she wore a coral lace tank top which highlighted the pink tones in her skin and the blonde in her hair. Her golden locks, though usually tied up in a ponytail, were now tied up in a cute bun style that Natsu particularly liked. Although, he would enjoy it more if her hair was down and he could push it out of her face and kiss he--

“See something you like?” Lucy mused from where she reached to put the bottle of black olives away. Natsu turned away and flushed, pretending to be interested in his comic book that he was reading before Lucy walked in. Lucy stared at him with a knowing smile, watching his green eyes scan the comic a little too intently.

“That food looks good, Luce,” Natsu replied, sipping his decaf like he hadn’t just seen his roommate look like a goddess who fell to earth only to tempt him.

“Yeah. I thought I’d make some chicken and pasta tonight. Sound good?” Lucy said, flopping down on the couch with a sigh. She looked exhausted, Natsu noted, and he smiled at her through his headache that had only seemed to get worse throughout the day.

“As long as you don’t make the crepe and gravy thing again, I’ll eat it,” Natsu said with a cheeky grin, and Lucy swatted him on the arm.

“That was one time! Gray said it was good!” Lucy protested. Natsu took a sip of his coffee, remembering that Gray had only said it was good because both Gajeel and Natsu had glared at him behind Lucy’s head until he lied for all three of them.

There was silence for a few moments before Lucy piped up. “So how are you feeling?”

Natsu chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Looking up at Lucy, he began to fumble over his words. “I’m doing pretty girl--pretty good! I am doing pretty good, Luce.”

Lucy flushed slightly before letting out a giggle. Did Natsu just call her pretty? “That’s good, Natsu.”

He grinned, liking watching her giggle. The sound was bubbly and cute, and her smile that went along with the noise only added to the adorable effect.

Lucy was one of the best things to happen to him. Yes, he knew it sounded cliche, but she honestly was. She had brightened up his world of darkness with her positive outlook on life and kindness, and he knew that he could never repay her for that. She brought out the best in him. She showed him happiness in life that he didn’t even know himself. Her smile made him smile. Her laugh made him laugh. And he truly wanted to spend every moment with Lucy.

He knew he was falling hard and fast, and that was the reason he had a question to ask.

“Lucy,” Natsu said after a moment of silence, fighting to keep his nerves and voice even. Grasping her hand in his, he looked into her eyes deeply.

“Would you go on a date with me?”

>>Chapter 18>>

My Dee You Eye

As most of you all (0 followers) know I have struggled with substance abuse and chemical dependency issues throughout the last 4-5 years of my life. Well, besides the fact that my life/ lifestyle had become unmanageable (if I didn't improve the path I was on). The legal consequences of addiction also caught up to me. About this time last year ( mid - late June 2016) I received a DWI (misdemeanor) and a 5th degree possession of control substance (felony) charge . Now I'm not much of a boozer to begin with , although I've had my fair share of wild nights and still enjoy letting loose n wild'n out on occasion, and even less of a drunk driving enthusiast. To be honest I am very against the action , openly. Now people do make mistakes (me being exhibit A in this case) and boundaries will always be tested and disputed. In this day and age , and even more so in past generations, drunken driving has been viewed and treated as too socially acceptable IMO. Now since turning the age of 21, the legal drinking age in The United States, I can confidently say that I have only driven about 5-10 times when I've been over the legal blood alcohol level of .08 (in Minnesota), and that's 5-10 times too many. In comparison, while attending the mandatory MADD (mothers against drunk driving) class , they had gathered some information that said most offenders will have driven drunk/ over the legal limit 80-85 times before they are caught. Now I'm not saying this in my defense, like why don't I get my other 70 opportunities to endanger society, but I'm saying it as a way to convey the fact that it is happening way too often and going almost completely unnoticed in many circumstances. Being the, consciously trying to and making plans to avoid drinking and driving, type that I pride myself on being. This mid June 2016 day / night I did put efforts in place to ensure I wouldn't need to get behind the wheel. I arrived at the residence of my childhood/ grade school neighbor/ close friend's brothers house in Cambridge around 2-3 pm. My grade school pal is in town from Montana and his brother had recently purchased this home in Cambridge so I had made plans to come through on this weekend to catch up n cool out. I arrived n bullshitted with the brothers and their father ( who surprisingly to me was also their, and even weirder to me was wearing long black pants, a dark blue hooded sweatshirt, with a thick Detroit Red Wings jersey over that... On a 95 + degree June afternoon). After catching up and meeting the new girlfriends and roommates, the light beers in the fridge were cooled to the perfect temperature. I did not arrive with any beverages of my own as I did not know what the day / night would bring forth , but there was great hospitality and many offers for me to indulge in their beers ( something I wasn't so accustomed to seeing from my drug of choice (heroin) and people I hung around / used with ). Taking advantage of the beautiful weather and hot sun we played lawn drinking games such as Beer Pole, Bag Toss, Beer Darts, and a game I hadn't seen before called "Can Jam". Google it and enjoy, I've been told it's available at target or done shit. In the early stages of the night here I'm careful to take it slow n really not have anymore than 3-4 beers over these first 2-3 hours as I don't know what my plan is for rest of the evening after I potentially leave this get together. Around 5-6 pm some smells of hot dogs and burgers come from a nearby grill. Bet I'm staying for some free BBQ no doubt. By this time a few more party goers have shown up , including one of my best friends sisters (unexpected as she was a Cambridge native and this gathering seemed to include St. Francis , East Bethel, and Pine/Rush City folk. Come to figure out she dates one of the roommates of the residence) who I know stays with the chronic at all times. This is a blessing as I was currently dry and was thinkin I wouldn't mind putting a blunt in the air or sumn'. As suspected she rolls up and me her n 1 other associate puff daddy'd a joint to get right. Now even though this gathering is small I'm having a good time and am really enjoying catching up with and partying down with my childhood best pal ( we missed out on the partying phase of our friendship as I ended up attending a different high school and then going out seperate ways for college). So I make the decision finally, I'd like to really party and let loose. I ask Jake (childhood pal) and his brother Jeff if their finna get a little wild tonight , if they mind if I join in the wildness, and most importantly if I can crash there for the night cause if I have one more beer driving anywhere is really no longer an option. All questions were appropriately answered yes. Plan is in place to responsibly get shit faced and not have to drive while face is shit. Now the beers are going down quite a bit easier and more care free. Me and Jake are cleaning up the competition in the leisure drinking games. Occasionally toke from the chronic, things are going well considering the lack of available females in attendance, but that wasn't the mission thus night. Objective A was just to have a good time with old friends and reminisce of the good times of past we had as carefree children. In the early evening (7-8 pm ish) some "friends" of one the roommates show up in a condition commonly referee to as "half in the bag". They meant well n were just lookin to join the fun, but one clown that was with them seemed to have a unwarranted cockiness to him. Which didn't help his cause when it was revealed that none of them had alcohol of their own and were expecting to mooch off everyone else already there (like I was.... But shhhh). Liquor stores a mile away go pick up some booze if your own they were told, n did. As night is starting to fall and various states of drunkenness are setting in they return with a case of beer and a large bottle of fireball whiskey. I hate and despise both cinnamon flavor (I.e. Big red gum) and whiskey but for some reason when a bottle of fireball gets brought out I can't say no to a pull off the bottle . And after a pull I'm usually the leading force behind the " let's pass it around till its gone" movement. Looking back, never has that actually been a good idea or ended well. With liquid courage running through everyone's veins the cocky for no reason clown starts running off at the mouth and even put hands on Jeff's girlfriend . Now while everyone else there has some loose connection to this idiot n wants to just tell him to calm down n relax , when he says something to me I don't take that approach. Knowing that 98% of the party goers hate him n in reality would rather him not be there I call him on his bluff , his cocky I'm Better than every body else here routine. He calms down a bit realizing he's on everyone's last nerve. All is well again. Until out of the blue the home owners girlfriend starts going at him cussing n swinging ( apparently he had called her the word you don't call the home owners girlfriend if you would like to remain to be allowed at said homeowners party). In the process of defending himself against the onslaught of the flailing arm technique that Ashley had deployed against him he definitely crossed the line and went over board with what appeared to be a punch attempt followed by a landed punch on a female. Needless to say several people politely yet physically escorted the dumbass to the vehicle he arrived in and announced that whoever's vehicle that was immeadiately leave with the vehicle and coward who just hit a woman. Time check, about 10-11 o clock ish. I'm drunk.... Not piss your pants drunk, but like Tara Reid drunk. So naturally being I graduated from Cambridge High School I started trying to recruit a female drinking partner of whom I might have a chance to do the horizontal hula with to come join me at this party. Fun fact, in high school I had actually used to fool around with neighbor ( who made a brief appearance at the party) of jeff's recently purchased home's daughter, while she was in a relationship to a future University of Minnesota national champion heavyweight wrestler. (humble brag). Unfortunately she was not home at the time , although I think that ship has sailed for me by then anyway. Unsuccessful in my endeavors n really getting no progress except making a bunch of drunk calls I put that project on hold and joined the rest of the groups effort to try to find a way to get pizza into our mouth holes. Dominoes is closed by this time and there are no pizzas in the freezer inside....☹️. This is about the time where the real bad decisions start happening. Wal mart is open 24/7 and is a one road straight shot about a mile away. Route is suspected of being more than likely cop free as it is a low traffic road at that time of night naturally. I'm telling myself I know better I'm not risking driving into town or anywhere for that fact in this condition, but wasn't bright enough to not allow someone else to and put myself in danger by choosing to make the short trip with them. Luckily, and thankfully the trip was a success, we made it there and back and were rewarded with Mountain Dew and frozen pizza, MmMm mmmmm. As the pizza is cooking I seek out one of the fellow tree burners of the party and inquire about the possibility of going out to my car to blaze a little bud while the radio plays a groovy tune or two. He accepts the offer/ request and follows me to the 300. After roasting a bowl he pulls out a bubble containing melted down substance of what I believe to be meth ( of which I've seen by this point in my life but have had almost no interaction with or even real knowledge of how to use one ) and asks if I would like to take a couple hits off that. To which I decline but also tell him I appreciate the offer and not to be weird about it or nothing because I'm in no way judging, especially since I had only recently kicked my heroin addiction and had a close friend actually OD earlier that day (thank god he received attention in time and was saved by paramedics). Now the snowball effect of negative events ..... We go back in for pizza, hoping we killer enough time for it just to be finishing up. Perfect timing , scarf down 2 pieces of Heggies 6 pack all meat pizza and a refreshing Mountain Dew to wash it down. Party winding down , those not spending the night having left or are just leaving , I take a seat on a couch that looks like prime real estate for me to stake claim to as a sleeping apparatus, came stick with 2 pillows and quilt like blanket on it. What more could I ask for. People going their separate ways like Jeff to a random 2am shower, Jake to a down stairs bedroom to get some booty from his girl, my friends sister n her boyfriend who lived at the house had gone to bed already. I sit casually on the piece of furniture I claimed slowly sliding into taking grasp that it was time for me to sleep . As I'm about to enter slumber and drunken dreams of me hanging out with Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro or Margot Robbie naked, I hear some ruckus come from the basement making its way up stairs. Apparently the bubble master had offered some to one of the house members earlier and they were not as casual around it as I and had just told Ashley (Jeff's girlfriend) about the incident, but also took it upon himself to tell her that I was with him smoking bubble in my car earlier .... Referring to when we smoked a different Moore casual more socially acceptable drug (weed) in my car. So as one can expect , being totally not cool with hard drugs like meth and not wanting it in the confines of her home, she is freaking out. Now through the transitive property this is her house as well and I understand her point of view but I'm trying to explain my position in this mess of hearsay. Bubble master has already been told to leave and dos so without a fight, so he's not there to confirm I was innocent and in reality turned him down. Jeff is in the shower, so he can't calm her down n vague for me. Jake getting booty and I'm not going to interrupt that to have him convince her that I am allowed / absolutely going to stay there. Between a rock and hard place. Ashley asks "can you drive?" So I respond "I have a license, my car is here, yes I can drive. But should I? No I absolutely should not drive anywhere." I kinda lay down n just figure if she knows I'm just going right to sleep n not here to still party n cause trouble she will just let it be n let me sleep . No dice, she starts in again "can you drive?" I respond again "I'm a human being with the capability to drive, but it's not ideal under these conditions." I get told this time that if I can drive I need to go right now. So with no one around to support my being able to stay I conjure up an attitude n say fuck it, fine I'm fuckin out then. Reverse out the driveway n skrt skrt away. While pulling out the driveway I acknowledge I'm pretty wasted and shouldn't be behind the wheel. Now I grew up in this town , majority of my friend base lives in this town. I even knew of two very close friends whose parents were out of town that weekend. So I had options .... I could call one of my many of friends for a ride. I could drive the short distance to one of those friends house n be almost guaranteed entry and a spot to crash. I could call my father for a ride being he only lived 10 minutes away in Isanti. I could have drove to my fathers and although he wouldn't have been happy about the situation would have allowed me a spot to sleep at. Hell, my college roommate's parents house was a block away and I don't recall if he was staying with them this summer or not (because I didn't even bother to make the call) but I know his younger brother was living there and would have let me crash if I asked . In true reality if I would have stood my ground at Jeff's and got him or Jake into the conversation I would have been allowed to just stay there like the original plan called for. I went for the logical choice of D.) None of the above , and instead decided that I was going to make the 30-40 minute drive home to blaine down state highway 65 the whole way. Brilliant!!! The beginning of the drive I'm conscience of the fact I'm wasted and am still considering just going to Isanti to dads, but it's 3 am and he's sleeping and the dog will bark and blah blah blah. I get to the decision intersection of County rd 5 and State hwy 65 , straight on 5 to dads, left onto 65 to moms. I make the left, there's very little traffic out at this time of the night/morning. Set the cruise at the speed limit (65mph), put in a good disc (Redman- Malpractice). That's when I find not only dude mans weed pipe (which I was lowkey jacked about cause it has been re packed n we never took another hit so it was all fresh green) but also he had left his bubble in my car. Common sense says throw in out the window right then, but I wasn't much in a common sense state of mind. Next to the bubble is also a small baggie of what looked like glass shards, now known to be glass shards (aka meth shards). Throw it , right.... Nah I just leave it like a dummy. At this point I'm a little over half way home and I've sobered up a smidgen, seem to be in control and driving well, there's hardly but 4 other souls on the road with me, it won't be a problem to make it home. Then maybe I'll learn how to smoke that bubble cause now it's peaked my curiosity. I realize I need some gasoline , it's not urgent, I could probably even make it home, but it is getting down there. I don't got my card on me so I'm going to have to go to a holiday or SA being that they are open 24 hours so I can go in and pay with cash. Now I know at the next two stoplights there is a Holiday at the first light and then a Super America at the second light, but they are both on the left hand side so I would have to cross the highway twice and end up waiting at 2 lights, which for some reason was an issue for me at The time. Bingo, there's a Super America on my right hand side sooner than either of those lights. I remember this station being of a different company no more than a year prior but it's since been rebranded an SA. Take a right, pull in, pull up to a pump. There's not another car in the lot (I.E. No workers present) the awning and sign are lit up as well as the pumps but the inside lights are off or at the least dimmed. This is not a 24 hour SA and I don't have my card, so I pull away accepting the fact I'll have to cross the highway and hit one of the other 2 stations. It's about now , as I'm pulling away from the pump after just pulling up fur seconds and not getting out, that I spot across the street in the empty movie theater parking lot there are 2 police chargers pointed right in my direction. Trying to play it off smooth I just exited n took a right back onto the highway, pretty much assuming I was toast after that incredibly intelligent maneuver. I did not notice either pull away from the movie theatre right away and as I passed the next stoplight I didn't notice any signs that one or both of them were behind me. Still being cautious and fully concentrating, cruise set at 66 mph, focused on staying in between the lines in the right lane , just incase. Now approaching the second stoplight (where the 24 hour SA is on the left but I've decided to not fuck with all that business no more) when I see a vehicle approaching at a decent speed. I could only guess it was one them cops, n it was, but he didn't light up the cherries right away. He probably followed me for about a half mile to a mile, of which I felt I drive flawlessly (and months later after seeing the dash cam my lawyer told me I was driving without flaw). You know police though, he would have made up any damn thing eventually, he knew what a 20 something white male driving at 3am, pulling into a closed gas station only to pull right back out, going exactly the speed limit, in the right lane, was really up to. He flipped the lights, regardless of what his excuse for stopping me was going to be it didn't matter cause he had me. I pulled off to the right and into a restaurant called "The Red Ox Cafe". I parked in a parking spot hoping that since it was in a spot at this restaurant they wouldn't impound it. I was wrong. I also remembered the drugs again and hoped that if I basically cooperated and didn't fight the DWI process that they would not search the car, just impound it and take me in for drunk driving. Also wrong. Failed the road side sobriety test just as bad as I did college accounting. Blew a point one four (.14) blood alcohol level, which is just under twice the legal limit (at which point the penalty becomes more harsh), they found all the what nots and of course didn't buy the "it's not mine" excuse (ironic cause it really wasn't.... This time) got hauled in and spent 5 days in Anoka county. Got a lawyer to help handle this and some of my other legal situations I was already in the middle of or about to find myself in the middle of. As a direct result of these charges I now have a Smart Start ignition interlock device (blow to go) installed in my car, whiskey license plates, previously mentioned MADD class, DWI education class, 40 hrs community service, and some odd amount of fees. Months later after sentencing I received 30 days jail, 2 years probation, and an order to attend a 30 day inpatient treatment facility. Although there were forces working against me, they made not have had a legit reason to stop me, I had on plan to avoid driving, they really weren't my drugs, it wasn't my 85th time driving over the limit, or any other excuse I could make for why it was okay I did it. In the end it wasn't okay, and unfair as I or anyone may feel it to be, cops did their job. I suffered the consequences and learned my lesson .... Hell in still suffering the consequences and still going through that lesson. Most importantly though is nor me , another driver, pedestrian, or even an animal for that matter got hurt or killed for me to learn this lesson. Put an end to the social acceptance of drunk driving. DO NOT add to the statistics. DO NOT tolerate drunk driving.