#(which i had to deal with on top and in consideration of my dad's current lawsuit)

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bullseye | got it bad, m | jjk, kth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Kim Taehyung really regrets setting up his best friend with Jeon Jungkook, mostly because instead of dealing with one insufferable asshole, he now has to deal with two. He just wants you to come to his art exhibit and support him, and you show up looking like a pimp with Jungkook looking like your escort, sigh.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; you’re a cocky asshole and so is Jungkook; schemes, please save Taehyung; graphic descriptions of various sex acts, smut (fem reader, making out / dry humping / fingering in a public bathroom, threesome smut, mild restraint, nipple play, m-receiving oral, ass / pussy spanking, double penetration / spit-roast, facial, mild dom/sub themes, so much kissing); non-idol!BTS; fuckboy!Jungkook x bisexual, fuckgirl!reader; ft artist, best friend!Taehyung

yup, it’s Butter purple-haired ponytail JK and orange suit Taehyung

--

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"Oh, hey, Tae. How's it going?"

"Hey, hyung."

The voices, one irritated, one pleased, one mischievous, all three looking like the epitome of trouble and the eventual subjects of someone's wet dream.

Kim Taehyung marched over to you, purely indignant, his previous honey-brown hair now dyed to the color of black coffee, the long curls pushed back to reveal his forehead. One stray lock brushed against his dark, sculpted brows that were currently furrowed in annoyance. He stopped in front of you and your boyfriend, hands on his hips. He looked handsome as hell in a tailored orange creamsicle suit and gold earrings, white dress shirt neatly pressed.

"Why are you dressed like a pimp?" Taehyung hissed, jabbing your left breast through your dress. "Why are you dressed like his pimp?!" he added, pointing at Jungkook's smirking face.

You blinked innocently at Taehyung, lifting your oversized black fur coat sleeve to place a delicate hand on your chest, completely unbothered by his harsh reaction to your appearance. Your nails were a gradient from black to white, ever-so-slightly pointed, but not too long to be inconvenient.

Just enough to show you meant business.

Oh, and also you were wearing mock-neck, halter-style minidress that faded from black to white, molded to your every curve. It perfectly matched Jungkook's gradient black-to-white suit. Every step was accented with a sharp click, you in sleek black high-heels and him in glossy black oxfords, dangerous from head-to-toe.

Yes, Jungkook and you were that couple.

"Is that a t-shirt?" Taehyung snapped, switching to prodding Jungkook’s pecs, who grinned in response. You shrugged, the shoulders of your fur coat sliding down so that it now rested on your elbows, exposing your shoulders.

"He thought about not coming with one, but I advised him the other visitors would be too distracted by his sexiness to view your art," you explained, bowing as if you had done a great service.

"And I told her they would be to distracted with her amazing legs, but it's better not to cover them because I like looking," Jungkook chuckled, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you to him possessively.

Taehyung facepalmed.

"I regret paying matchmaker to the two biggest egos I know," he mumbled through his fingers, glaring at the two of you.

"Hey, we kept it low profile. Neutrals."

Taehyung pointed to your boyfriend's hair, pulled back into a sleek ponytail. "Hello? His hair is fucking purple."

You waved his comment away dismissively. "Well, besides that."

"You're a class-A asshole."

"Still makes me high class," you replied with a wink.

"This is really nice, hyung," Jungkook cut in between your bickering. "There’s quite a lot of people here already. I didn't know you were so talented and popular. As expected from my girl's best friend, eh?"

Taehyung winced, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning red. "Eh... it's not a big deal..." he muttered, but you could tell he was enjoying the praise.

"Of course, it is, Tae," you chuckled, pulling out of Jungkook's grasp to hug him, squeezing him between your fur-covered arms. "You've worked so hard to be able to display your paintings at such a nice venue. I'm proud of you."

Taehyung laughed shyly, hugging you back. "Ahaha... thanks, as usual." He planted a light kiss on the top of your head. "I'm happy you guys came."

You grinned. "Indeed. You needed visitors to match the space," you drawled, sweeping your arms in a grandiose gesture to the glass cases of Taehyung's paintings, crisp white walls, and black marble flooring.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, smiling despite being over your antics. "Not sure I need a high-end escort and his pimp sauntering around..."

"When are your parents arriving? I want to introduce them to Jungkook," you interrupted, tugging on Jungkook's arm and making his cheeks flush pink.

"Like this?! Are you serious, my parents are going to have a heart attack once they realize there's a male version of you!"

"Aw, come on, your dad loves seeing me!"

"That's because you both are always up to no good... fucking always pulling pranks on me... I'm actually glad they're stuck in traffic now..."

-

You slid your thumb into his mouth, smirking as you heard his muffled whine. He was trying to stay quiet, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes, whimpering as you rubbed his tongue with the pad of your finger. One of your legs was hooked around his waist and he was holding it up with one hand. His other between your legs, fingers hooking underneath your panties.

“Fuck, I love looking at you, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning forward, shuddering at the feeling of his saliva pooling around your thumb, your own tongue snaking out and tracing the air right between his open lips.

Jungkook moaned softly and shoved two fingers inside your tight, wet pussy.

You pulled your thumb out and crashed your lips to his, letting your satisfied exhale into his throat, your name trapped between his lungs and your hungry mouth, kissing him deeply as he plunged his fingers in and out, pressing your body into the wall of the bathroom stall. Shivers up and down your spine, back arching to feel even more of his chest against yours, frustrated at the clothing between you and him, but still hot and exciting, your hands circling his head and playing with his ponytail, rolling your hips into his rough thrusts.

You tried to break free and moan, but Jungkook captured you with his lips, forcing your noises into his mouth to silence them, rubbing his erection against your hip and thigh, the sound between your legs getting louder because you were getting wetter, closer, your eyes cracking open and seeing his half-open too, staring at you with lust and love, determined to push you over the edge, even in the men’s bathroom where Kim Taehyung’s art exhibit was being held.

Hey, you both waited until you had a nice, long conversation with Taehyung’s parents where his mom drilled Jungkook with questions about what he did and what kind of person he was. His dad, in contrast, seemed to approve of Jungkook and gave him a hearty slap on the arm, telling him trouble and trouble often went well together. Then you and Taehyung’s dad had a praise fest about his son, which made Taehyung turn beet-red in embarrassment. Both of you meant it all, of course.

But, also, both of you enjoyed embarrassing Taehyung in public. It was fun.

Yeah, dads loved you.

You couldn’t imagine why that was.

All that aside, after Taehyung's parents bid their son goodbye, Jungkook dragged you into the men's bathroom and began to make out with your face.

He contained himself for a few hours. It was a valiant effort, living off only groping your ass a couple times, but a man can only take so much when you’re looking like a five-course meal and he’s aware that you’re willing to let him eat, you know?

No? Oh, well.

Maybe that’s just your problem.

Also, yes, maybe you discreetly teased him a couple times by rubbing your ass on his crotch and pressing your tits against his back. Maybe.

You lowered one of your hands, cupping your fingers around his length, sighing in his mouth, feeling how perfectly rock-hard he was, knowing you couldn’t have it and he couldn’t give it to you, not yet, but soon, his deep snarl at your touch, fuck, kisses intensifying, shoving his fingers into you all the way to the knuckle, the wet squish audible and obscene, the adrenaline of danger and satisfaction creeping you closer and closer to your high. His thumb came up and grazed your clit, making you close your eyes and rock your hips into his touch, moaning his name into his own mouth, his force of his fingers pushing his thumb against your throbbing clit hard and fast, the scent of black coffee and lush dragon fruit on his skin and yours, mixing with the sweetness of your orgasm as you wailed in glorious triumph, clutching his head with your hand and his waist with your leg, your other one shaking with strain as each pulse shook you, squeezing his clothed length in your hand, wanting it and pulling back to tell him just that in hot whispers, his soft moan against your mouth, whispering back, your name and his desire, his dark brown eyes nearly black with lust.

“Shit, you know how bad I want to fuck you, right now,” Jungkook panted.

“Please don’t.”

Huh?

You raised an eyebrow at the annoyed baritone voice. “Taehyung?”

“Do you know how long I’ve been standing here, knocking on this bathroom stall, you absolute horndogs?”

You heard him gritting his teeth, his voice nearly a deep growl. You did what any natural person would do.

Reached over and unlocked the door, letting it swing open to reveal your and Jungkook’s grinning faces.

His fingers remained very firmly inside your pussy, barely covered by the hem of your dress. You swept your arm back so your fur coat was out of the way. Always considerate. Taehyung stood at the opening of the door, hands on his hips, orange blazer flaring out with his posture, immediately throwing up his hands and jerking his head away once he realized that, yes, of course, you two would not bother covering up anything.

“Fucking – shit, get your hands off her, man, go home to do that–”

Jungkook began to slide his fingers out, scissoring them with a wet squish and you mewled, slightly exaggerated and performative.

“Oh my God, never mind, stop, leave them in there,” Taehyung snarled, realizing he was facing the mirror and therefore could still see both yours and Jungkook’s smug smirks. He abruptly turned ninety degrees, now facing the wall, giving you both the side eye. “The fuck is wrong with you people? Do you have any decency?”

“Sure, we do,” you chirped.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re in the bathroom,” Jungkook added, softly rubbing your clit and making you bite your lip, enjoying it very, very much.

A muscle in Taehyung’s eyebrow twitched. “Public bathroom,” he snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, what if it wasn’t me who walked in here? What if It was some goddamn stranger listening to this shit?”

“Speaking of which,” Jungkook mused, cocking a brow. “Normal people would just leave. Why did you stay and listen?”

You didn’t say anything. You were simply happily grinding on his hand, the gentle pressure creating a constant ecstasy that you were completely satisfied with, one hand hooked around Jungkook’s neck, waiting for Taehyung to answer with a huge, amused grin on your face. Taehyung knew everything about you.

It almost meant you knew everything about Taehyung.

He rolled his eyes. “You act like I’ve never heard her orgasm before. Big fucking deal.”

Jungkook gave him a pair of incredibly wide eyeballs that indicated that, yes, that was kind of a big deal.

“Tae was my first kiss.”

“What?’ Jungkook blurted, snapping his head back to you.

You shrugged. “We were, like, eight. Just wanted to know what kissing was.”

Jungkook blinked very rapidly, stunned.

His two fingers were still inside you.

You scrunched up your face, thinking. “We were also each other’s first head and fuck too. Although it wasn’t very good.”

“You were a bit shit,” Taehyung interjected.

“It took you five whole minutes to aim. Even a watermelon would be dry at that point.”

Jungkook was still trying to process that you were each other’s first kiss with his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. “W… What? Why aren’t you guys dating?”

You snorted. “I can’t do that. He’s like my brother.”

Taehyung stuck his tongue out. “And she’s like my sister. That’s weird.”

Jungkook finally yanked his fingers out of you and threw out his hands in disbelief. “And being each other’s first times for – shit, basically everything – isn’t weird?”

Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s soaked fingers, your cum stuck between them in viscous strings. Ooh, sexy. You licked your lips, breaking out in a pleased smirk. Taehyung spied what you were looking at and facepalmed. Jungkook seemed to notice too and turned to look at it, suddenly forgetting the whole discussion.

And put his cum-covered fingers into his mouth, moaning deliciously around them.

Taehyung made a horrified face in the mirror, making eye contact with you.

“Um, gross!”

“Eh, shut up, Tae, not like you haven’t done it in front of me before.”

“Well, I don’t wanna watch Jungkook do it,” he shot back, spinning around to glare at you. “He’s your boyfriend!”

You quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve seen other guys do it before when we’ve had threesomes. Plus, you’ve watched me open my mouth with other men’s cum in it so you could cum in my mouth too.”

Jungkook choked on his own fingers.

“WHAT?” he roared.

“You weren’t serious about them!” Taehyung flicked his hand, completely ignoring Jungkook. “And you’re my go-to when the girls I’m seeing want to experience a threesome, so I was just doing you a favor!”

Your boyfriend was having a mild heart attack and neither you nor Taehyung seemed to notice, too busy bickering about your strangely integrated sex lives.

“What’s the difference? It’s just Jungkook. You guys are friends.”

“Yeah, extra reason why I don’t want to sit around and imagine him slurping from your vagina. I gotta look into his eyes later!”

You raised your hands, shaking your head. “So what? You’ve seen my other sex partners in public and never said much about it. Why are you making such a fuss now?”

“Because!” Taehyung flung his hands, stamping a foot on the tile floor in frustration, his handsome features twisted into despair, hands on his head and messing up his dark brown hair. “Because you’re going to stop being my friend now that you’re serious about someone and I can’t do anything about it because that someone is Jungkook and I actually like the guy! I’m fucking happy for you and shit, but, fuck, fuck, what am I gonna do when you’re not in my corner anymore?”

Your jaw dropped, shocked.

“Tae, what are you talking about–?”

He spun around, about to run out, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, yanking him into a fierce hug. And, just like that, Taehyung was that awkward, weird kid in elementary school again, not wanting to admit he was scared and frightened of the big mean boys teasing him about his odd drawings and strange thought processes, calling him a dorky alien. He grabbed your shoulders, shivering, holding back tears.

“No one’s gonna protect me…” Taehyung sniffed, burying his face in your hair. “If you’re gone, I can’t be brave…”

“Hey, you know that’s not true,” you chastised lightly, squeezing him. “You’ve become strong, all on your own. You know that. That whole exhibit is filled with your art. You even got offers to buy some of your pieces. Isn’t that amazing?” You pulled back and placed your hands on Taehyung’s cheeks, smiling up at him kindly. He still looked gloomy and uneasy, lower lip sticking out. “Come on, you know I’m right, Van Gogh,” you teased, pinching his cheeks a little. He fidgeted, frown lessening. “I will always, always be in your corner. No matter what. No guy is going to make me stop being friends or supporting you. You need me to knock someone’s front teeth out, give me the time and place and I got your back.”

“That’s going to send you to jail,” he muttered, smiling slightly.

“Then I’ll go to jail. That’s just glorified detention because they give you free meals.”

He laughed, still with a tinge of anxiousness. “You promise you won’t stop being my best friend over some guy?”

You grinned. “You’ll always be my best friend, Tae. I just happen to really enjoy his company and his dick. You know, a girl has needs.”

He stuck his hand out childishly, pinky sticking out. “Pinky promise me.” Then he stuck his other hand out. “Actually, double pinky promise me.”

You crossed your wrists over each other and pressed your pinkies to his, squeezing his hands tightly.

“I promise I’ll always be your best friend.”

“Uh, guys, you’re kinda making me feel like a third wheel…”

Jungkook might as well have been a bathroom sink to Taehyung and you in this moment.

Taehyung nodded firmly to you. “Okay. You promised. You better keep it.”

You rolled your eyes. “When have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right…” All of a sudden, he looked down at your hands and wrenched his own out of them. “Oi! Where have those hands been, young lady?” He looked at his open hands with a repulsed scowl. “You better not have touched his dick and then my hands without washing yours! That’s disgusting!”

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Jungkook retorted heatedly. “My dick is perfectly clean and she didn’t get to touch me yet because you busted in and interrupted us–”

“What are you going on about, you’ve touched my hands after I’ve given handjobs! I didn’t hear you complaining!”

“He’s done what–?”

“I keep telling you that’s different, this is Jungkook, a man you actually love, and here I thought you were incapable of that.” Taehyung spoke over Jungkook, jabbing his finger into his palm to drive his point home. “You get that sparkly shit in your eyes when you talk about him and it makes me want to puke–”

“I do not get sparkly shit in my eyes, what the fuck does that even mean?”

“You literally will not shut up about how pretty he is!”

“He is pretty! Look at him!” You banished your arms in Jungkook’s direction like he was your first-place trophy on display, which he might as well be at this point with how much attention either of you were giving him. At least he looked the part.

Taehyung rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, throwing his whole head back. “I can give you pretty. You’ve been telling me I’m handsome all my life.”

“Why don’t we just have a threesome?”

Silence.

Both you and Taehyung jerked your heads to Jungkook, jaws dropped at his suggestion.

The door to the men’s bathroom opened and an old man bounced in, humming to himself.

He saw you.

He stopped, tilting his head. Then he looked from Jungkook to Taehyung and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Love triangle or sexy night, boys?”

Taehyung choked on air. “Not a love triangle.”

“Oooh, sexy night.” The old man gave you two thumbs up. “I’d love to join, but I’ll back out this time.”

You laughed heartily as Jungkook and Taehyung grabbed your arms, pulling you out of the men’s bathroom, not about to discuss a possible threesome in front of some old guy who vaguely offered to make it a foursome.

You made sure to give the old man a wink, sticking your head back in the open door to say, “Maybe next time, eh?”

The old man cackled and Taehyung slapped a hand over your mouth, dragging you out.

“Please shut up, I fucking swear…”

-

“So, why is it different?”

Somehow both you and Jungkook had dragged your best friend into your apartment and tied him to a chair. One of those nice wooden ones with plenty of openings to slip cotton rope through. Probably not what Kim Taehyung thought he was going to do right after his art exhibition, but judging by his peeved, unsurprised face, it wasn’t a completely unexpected result either.

You had pulled up another chair to sit in front of him, still wearing your fur coat, knees between his knees, mostly because Taehyung was forced to spread them because of how you tied the knots.

“I think I hate you,” Taehyung muttered.

“Nah.”

“At least a little bit.”

You slipped the shoulders of your coat down, exposing your skin, casually crossing your arms under your breasts and leaning forward, smiling sweetly at Taehyung. His dispassionate face basically said, ‘go-suck-your-own-dick’. He tried to pulled his arms free.

“Don’t rip your blazer.”

“Bite me.”

“You gonna answer my question?” you asked, redirecting the conversation.

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “I told you. It’s because I can tell you love him.”

You broke your playful demeanor for a second, smiling broadly. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you dork.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like more of a third wheel in my entire life even though you’re talking about how much you love me,” Jungkook said behind you. He was sitting on the couch, as the chairs had been repositioned in the living room.

Taehyung pursed his lips. “That’s why I got scared, you know…” He leaned forward a bit, pouting. “What if you spend so much time with him that you forget about me? What if you guys break up and you blame me?” If he was untied, he would be nervously picking at his lower lip with his right hand right now. Instead, he chewed on it, worried expression clouding his strong features.

You shook your head, reaching out to fluff his brown hair. “You think too much. Why would I blame you over a breakup? If anything, I’d be dragging you out so you can help me keep a record of how many people I can fuck in a night.”

Taehyung made a face. “Why can’t you be normal and cry while eating chocolate?”

“You know I don’t like chocolate.”

“You don’t like chocolate?” Jungkook choked in disbelief.

“I have to fuck my problems away, Tae. That’s the best way to deal with them.”

He rolled his eyes. “You need to see a therapist.”

“Nah, I got you.”

Suddenly Jungkook’s face appeared because you two, sitting on the coffee table.

“How do you not like chocolate?” he pressed, staring at you.

You blinked at him. “I mean, I don’t hate it. I’m just not crazy about it like some people. Isn’t that better for you? I can give you all the chocolate that I receive.”

This thought didn’t seem to have crossed Jungkook’s mind. He grinned, highly pleased with this result.

“You’re even going to give him your chocolate?” Taehyung gasped, affronted. “That’s it, this friendship is over. I can’t believe you would betray me like this!”

You placed your hands on his knees. Taehyung huffed.

“You want me to untie you now?” you asked, patting his thigh and ignoring his dramatic outburst.

“Why? I thought we were going to have a threesome.”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads to blink at Jungkook. He smiled innocently, which did not look innocent at all with his sleek purple ponytail and mischievous eyes.

“Nobody agreed to that.”

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you sided with Taehyung. “Nobody agreed to that.”

“Aw, come on,” he nudged, grinning. “You guys have obviously touched each other before, right? And I can totally trust hyung not to fall in love with you.”

“Because my preferred type wouldn’t hump me in a public bathroom,” your best friend muttered.

“I’m sensing judgement here, Kim Taehyung. Watch your mouth,” you warned.

“Choke on my dick.”

“We can start with that,” Jungkook chirped cheerfully.

“Why do you want this, anyway?” You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. “You never expressed any interest in threesomes before. I assumed you were too selfish for that.”

“I am.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook grinned devilishly.

“But I also wanna see you get spit-roasted.”

“Don’t–” Taehyung began.

Jungkook spread his legs, revealing his erection straining in his slacks. Taehyung snapped his head away, groaning an annoyance, disappointed but not surprised that your boyfriend had zero shame. Jungkook bit his lower lip, tiny mole underneath quivering, excitement and lust in his dark brown eyes, looking right at you eagerly. He purred your name. Taehyung visibly cringed.

“You know I would…” you drawled softly, reaching over to squeeze Jungkook’s thigh. “But I don’t think Tae is into it right now.”

“Yeah, I’d only do it if I was horny and desperate.”

“Then why do you have a boner?”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads down to see his dick trying to bust out of his pants.

He glared at it. “You traitor.”

“Are you talking to your dick?”

“Look,” Taehyung snapped, letting out a puff of breath and frowning at Jungkook. “I’m not immune, okay? She’s hot, sure. Absolutely one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I know.”

“Aw, so sweet!” you interrupted, smacking his leg in mock bashfulness.

“And,” he gritted, shooting you a scowl. “I might be horny and desperate, sure.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Jungkook inquired, smug smirk on his face.

“Well, you’ll get jealous, for one.”

Jungkook blinked, confused. “What?”

“Taehyung has a big dick.”

You said it so nonchalantly that Jungkook was speechless.

“Mhm.”

“Not as nice as Jungkook’s dick though.”

“Excuse me? I am offended.”

“You honestly need to improve your technique. You think your size alone is all that matters? Jungkook’s the whole package, great dick, cute smile, diligence, strength, always up for anything, perfect duality–”

“Shit, shut up about him, I get it, he’s the hottest thing to walk on this earth, now stop verbally jerking him, he’s not gonna agree–”

“Kiss him.”

You and Taehyung froze.

Eyes flickering to Jungkook, who raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“Kiss him,” he repeated.

Eyes back to Taehyung, who was breathing hard.

“Only because I’m horny and desperate,” he growled.

The corner of your lips ticked upwards.

“Got it bad, eh, Tae?”

You placed your hands on his thighs, sliding down, rising off your chair. You felt Taehyung’s muscles tense, narrowing his eyes. He tried to keep up his severe front, borrowing your tendency to use arrogance to hide your true feelings.

“Isn’t that you?” he challenged. “Need me to satisfy you even though you have Jungkook now?”

You smirked, seeing right through him. “You always give me such blessed service though.”

Something flared in his brown orbs, pupils expanding as you neared. “Don’t.” Your head tilted at his tone, almost pleading, and still you advanced, your soft inhale ghosting his lips. His gaze was on your face the entire time, swallowing hard, anticipation creeping into his stern expression.

“Don’t what?” you whispered teasingly.

“Don’t say it in front of him.”

“But you like it.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to know my embarrassing turn-ons.”

“What if I slip?”

He clenched his jaw. “Fuck, fine, whatever.”

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, licking your teeth slowly, maintaining eye contact. Your words a low hiss, laced with pure lust.

“My good little angel, let this devil corrupt you.”

Taehyung whimpered and you closed in on his lips, kissing him deeply, straddling his lap, rolling your hips into his, voracious, greedy kisses, Taehyung gasping in your mouth as you bounced on his crotch, your spread legs causing the hem of your dress to rise, popping over your ass, moaning into his mouth as you worked him under you, his body familiar and comforting. His tongue encircled yours, whining for more, and you mumbled sweet nothings to him, remembering all the things he loved to hear, and he gave you all the things you loved, the neediness in his kiss, the desperation of his hips rising to add more friction. You weren’t exactly immune to Taehyung either. You could control yourself, normally.

But Jungkook gave you the green light, so you went all in.

Your hands were in his hair, tangled in the strands of black coffee, murmuring in his lips, sweet angel, and Taehyung moaned, fiercely thrusting his hips up and you sitting down on it, already wet, sighing satisfyingly at the feeling of his impressive length straining to reach your dripping heat, too many layers of fabric between them.

“Such a good boy doing such bad things,” you purred against his lips, amused at seeing your lipstick all over his mouth.

Taehyung looked up at you with glazed brown eyes, a tinge of unease in them. Maybe he didn’t want to show Jungkook his vulnerable side. You could understand that. You didn’t mind playing your role but Taehyung was more guarded. He didn’t like to be criticized or judged for the things he liked. You noticed his gaze flicker to Jungkook and then back to you.

You tilted your head and cradled his, running your fingers through his hair. “You want me to stop, I’ll stop,” you cooed gently, kissing his ear.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he breathed, so quietly you barely heard it. “I don’t want him to judge me.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

Taehyung made a disbelieving noise.

“Something wrong?” Jungkook asked behind you, sounding curious and confused that his show was paused.

“Mhm, need you to take my coat,” you replied, pulling back, lowering your arms so Jungkook could stand behind you and remove it. You slid your hands out elegantly, seeing Taehyung’s messy dark hair and lipstick-stained lips. You heard Jungkook back up and you reached into Taehyung’s blazer, pulling out his handkerchief and dabbing at his mouth, carefully wiping it off.

“We can stop,” your reminded him gently.

“No,” he growled, frowning. “I’ve got a massive boner and it’s all your fault. Get me off.”

You grinned. “Alright, angel.”

You saw Taehyung bite his lip, shivering at your words. You couldn’t remember how this started, but it always worked. The roleplaying helped with the whole ‘having-sex-with-your-best-friend’ thing ten times less awkward, and it made it much easier for him and you to get off.

Unfortunately, it also was starting to make both of you much hornier while having sex with each other.

Whoops.

He clicked his tongue, raising his head, eyebrow cocked.

“Dirty little devil.”

You smirked. Taehyung’s voice was always sexier when he was aroused, deep and sultry.

One by one, you undid the buttons of his dress shirt, kissing at his exposed chest, the deep rich tone of his tan skin standing out against the white, his eyes closing at your touch, running your tongue down his sternum and blowing on it.

He shuddered, moaning your name, long and sweet.

You shifted, intending to push the chair behind you back, but it was gone. Instead, your ass backed up into a pair of very muscular legs. You paused, turning your head to see behind you.

“Jungkook–”

A firm hand stopped you, forcefully jerking your head back to Taehyung’s chest.

“Look forward,” Jungkook commanded.

A shiver down your spine at his tone. You smirked, peering up at Taehyung, who smiled.

“He jealous?”

“I’m not,” Jungkook snapped, grabbing your ass.

“A little bit,” Taehyung chuckled, and now he was smirking too.

Eerily similar to you, because who else would he learn such a devious expression from? You taught him well. You hummed, yanking Taehyung’s shirt open and pushing it to his shoulders, his naked torso now exposed to your eyes and mouth.

“Can’t imagine why. This was his idea.”

Taehyung jerked his head to you as you lowered yours to his chest. “What?”

But your lips closed around his nipple and he gasped, sputtering, confused, and then moaning as you moaned, Jungkook yanking down your panties and slapping your ass with his open palm, the sting added to the disapproving hiss of your name.

“He’s not supposed to know. I didn’t do all that acting for nothing,” he snarled, and your response was wiggling your ass, nipping your teeth over Taehyung’s chest, his handsome features twisted in ecstasy and pleasure, the tip of your tongue teasing his other nipple, pushing it around with your strong, wet, warm muscle.

“Whoops.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you and your not-so-innocent tone.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “Such a bad little devil. You need some punishment.”

“He already knew?” Taehyung gritted, glaring daggers at your grinning face, saying nothing, your deft fingers undoing his pants. “Answer me, woman.”

Jungkook was positioning your lower half, ass up, legs spread, pussy exposed to his eyes and hand, your dripping core tense with anticipation. When he spoke, his voice was deep and silvery, laced with danger and desire.

“Answer him.”

And he spanked your pussy, making you cry out and leak between his fingers, the sudden sting of pain so nice, and you had the audacity to continue giving Taehyung that infuriatingly smug expression as you dragged his pants and underwear to his knees, freeing his stiff length that stuck straight up, your body repeatedly lurched forward by Jungkook’s open palm on your soaked slit, your juices splattering on his hand and the inside of your thighs. With a smirk, you lowered your head.

“Mhm, he knew… ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, just like that…” you sighed in satisfaction, tongue snaking out and wrapping around the head of Taehyung’s cock, bobbing your mouth up and down like that, stimulating just the tip, paying extra attention to the underside of the head. “Sorry, Tae.”

“Swallow me whole,” he growled. “Now.”

You were ready to do it, of course, but you felt Jungkook’s hand clap onto your leaking, heated pussy lips, and the other danced up your back, so you waited, letting him grab your head and push you down, not quite as roughly as he would have if he was actually being mean, but with enough pressure that you knew he just wanted to do the physical action, wanted to feel the power even if there was no maliciousness behind it.

Your lips closed around Taehyung’s pulsing, hard length, taking it all, a familiar girth stretching out your jaw. You made a light gagging sound as the head hit the back of your throat, not quite suffocating, but enough to indicate, stop pushing me, and Jungkook lifted the weight off your head, still gripping your hair, messing up your perfected style of the night.

“That’s a good girl, swallowing all that dick,” he purred, sliding a finger into you.

You whined, clenching your walls around it, squeezing tight, wanting more.

“Suck.”

You did, obediently, looking up at Taehyung, his head tipping back, low moans escaping his throat as your tongue squirmed at the base of the head in your throat, muscles clinching around his cock, your lips around the base. You swiped your tongue down, stretching it out even farther, past your lips, slurping nosily at his balls, flicking them rapidly with the tip, feeling him get harder and harder, twitching against the roof of your mouth, bending a little due to the lack of space.

“Fuck, let go of her head, fuck!”

Jungkook released you and you grabbed Taehyung’s hips, starting a fast, intense pace, swirling your tongue around his cock, another long finger wiggling into your slick folds, thrusting into you from behind, your legs shaking with strain, Taehyung moaning louder and louder, filling up your apartment with his lust.

“Don’t fucking stop, fuck, you have the devil’s tongue, a-ah, it’s so fucking good…”

Jungkook scissored his fingers in you, the squelching sound loud and lewd, and you spied Taehyung tipping his head back, panting, watching Jungkook finger you from behind, his other hand smacking your ass periodically to watch it bounce and hear you moan, your hips bucking back into his hand every time you ascended from Taehyung’s cock.

“Give her another,” he gasped. “Stuff her more.”

Jungkook snickered. “For an angel, you’re all about the punishment, hm?”

But he did as he was told, shoving another finger in you and you whined, nearly popping your mouth off Taehyung’s thick length, stopping only because of imposing baritone.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Take it all. Or are you telling me you can’t? Telling me you’ve lost your touch?”

You went back down, narrowing your eyes, rising to his challenge. Your best friend knew everything about you and therefore he knew that the second he made it a question of your ability, well, that brought out the best in you.

“Fuck!”

Also made you almost vacuum his dick, but he asked for it.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuuuuck!”

Tighter, faster, tongue all over, nearly forgetting Jungkook was touching you at all because Taehyung had doubted you and you weren’t having that shit, fuck no, not even with Jungkook’s free hand snaking between your legs and feeling for your clit, rubbing it at the same furious pace you were blowing Taehyung’s jerking cock, tipping your head back and angling it so the head scraped against the roof of your mouth, locking your knees to prevent the shudders of pleasure from ruining your rhythm, so good, fuck, feeling so good with the pumping of Jungkook’s powerful fingers, electric satisfaction radiating from your throbbing clit, clutching Taehyung’s hips so hard he was getting indents from your nails, determined to get him there before you, and, by the sound of his breathless cries of your name and the trembling of his impressive girth, he was there.

“Yes, a-ah, you’re so good, so fucking good, I’m gonna cum, oh, fuck!”

His orgasm exploded, flooding your mouth with a gush of saltness, thick strings of cum painting the back of your throat, and you gulped it all down greedily, eyes rolling back, the tense coil inside you snapping and drenching Jungkook’s hands with your own orgasm, your legs unlocking and giving out, shaking and flinching as wave after wave of vicious pleasure flooded through you, Jungkook’s strong arms holding you up, moaning at the feeling of your pussy convulsing around his fingers, still lightly rubbing your clit through your orgasm, whines and whimpers crammed in your throat due to Taehyung’s cock in your mouth, sliding all the way to the base and swallowing around it, because you knew he loved it, wanted it, craved it, groaning carnally, the head swelling and pulsing, nearly suffocating you.

“Feels so f-fucking good… a-ah, yeees…”

You stayed in the position for as long as you could, a good minute, before backing up with a choked gasp, clutching Taehyung’s thighs, eyes drifting up to his and he looked down at you, fucked-out, content, grateful, black-brown curls falling all over his forehead and cheeks, so casually sexy and perfect.

“Good angels always taste the best,” you rasped, licking your abused lips.

Taehyung grinned.

“Untie me, devil.”

“Damn, you do have a big dick.”

“… Stop looking.”

“Why? I wanna see what she put in her mouth.”

You teased the head with the tip of your tongue, smirking. Taehyung looked away, ears turning red.

“You two are shameless.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” you laughed, straddling his lap, casually leaning over him to untie him. You heard Jungkook make a clicking sound and you assumed he was making a frame with his hands and miming taking a photo.

“Stop that,” Taehyung muttered, face full of your covered breasts. “Oi, take your clothes off if you’re gonna squash my face with your tits.”

You rammed your chest into his face to muffle his protests.

-

“Mmm, yes, no faster way to make me limp than you sucking Jungkook’s face off.”

You were too busy grabbing Jungkook’s naked ass and moaning in his mouth, tongue on tongue, purple strands brushing against your forehand, his hands on your ass and squeezing it roughly, rutting his rapidly hardening cock against your thigh.

“You want me to leave you guys alone?”

You broke the kiss, snapping your head around to see Taehyung raising an eyebrow at you from the head of your bed, completely naked. Jungkook continued slowly humping your thigh, peaking pre-cum all over and adding to his own stimulation.

“Are you done being an insufferable shit or what?” you glowered.

“Mmm, no.”

“Hmph, fine, just fuck me from behind then if you’re so needy,” you sighed, turning back to Jungkook’s amused smirk.

“No. I want the mouth again.”

You and Jungkook shared a confused look. “Huh, why?” you both said at the same time, looking at him in unison.

Taehyung lifted his chin defiantly, pointing to you. “I wanna stuff my dick into your mouth and fuck your face because you tricked me.”

You gasped, feeling slighted. “I told you it was Jungkook’s idea, why am I getting punished? You schemed against me first!”

He shrugged. “You corrupted him so, technically, it’s all inherently your fault.”

You protested as Jungkook laughed, pushing you into position despite you verbally fighting back.

“What! All I did was exist! Is it my fault that Jungkook was thirsting after my ass and you decided it would a taste of my own medicine, only to have it backfire in your face? And what if I wanna look at his handsome face? Huh? Why am I not getting a say in – mhpf!”

You yelped as Jungkook and Taehyung shoved your face first into Taehyung’s crotch, his semi-hard cock smacking you in the cheek and getting a mouthful of his nuts.

“Lick.”

They both said it at the same time. You saw them share a look of surprise, shocked that they were thinking the same thing, ignoring you.

Hey, nobody ignores you.

You wrapped your lips around one of his balls and sucked, tongue surrounding it, causing Taehyung to squeal and spread his legs, his cock swelling instantly, especially as your tongue poked out and lapped at the other while sucking intently.

“Good little devil,” Jungkook praised, patting you on the head before backing up, leaving you to rearrange Taehyung’s nuts with your mouth, licking and sucking all over, him gasping and moaning above you, falling back against the headboard.

“You’re crazy, fucking crazy…”

You switched sides, pressing your lips into his crotch to stuff your mouth full before sticking your tongue out and wiggling it on the underside of the other, his thick length now hitting you in the nose, and you realized Taehyung wasn’t going to help you with this, so you internally sighed and reached up to grab his dick and stroke it slowly as you continued your make-out session with his nuts.

Taehyung was chanting your name over and over like it was a prayer, as if he was saying it in attempt to ask for his soul to be saved.

You felt the bed bow and you lifted your head as far as it could go, which wasn’t very far because you still had one of Taehyung’s balls still in your mouth. You were still sucking on it.

He moaned above you, clutching your pillows for dear life.

You heard a condom being opened and felt Jungkook’s knees spread yours, deep silvery voice purring your name.

“Wanna see you take two dicks at once, naughty devil,” he teased, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked opening.

You unlatched your mouth and Taehyung seemed to see stars for a hot second, reeling.

“Hope you’re prepared, sweet angel,” you taunted, and then you swallowed his dick.

“Fucking shit!”

You moaned around his cock, letting it fill you to the throat, Jungkook’s perfect length thrusting into you at the same time, stretching you out deliciously, his own moan adding to your pleasure. There was just something about Jungkook’s moan, the longing, the possessiveness, the love. It made you wetter every time, bringing newfound energy to your meticulous sucking of Taehyung’s cock, who finally seemed to get his bearings and remember what the fuck was going on and what he wanted to do in the first place, because he finally straightened, large hands fitting around your head, pushing your hair back.

“You know why you’re so good at sucking dick?”

You tried very hard not to roll your eyes, already knowing what was coming. You decided to focus on Jungkook’s cock instead, pumping in and out of you, powerful, deep strokes, his hands gripping your hips, trying so hard to please you, and he was good at it, hitting all your favorite spots that made you squirm back against him.

“Because I let you suck mine,” Taehyung growled, holding your head and thrusting into your throat.

Mmmhmm, you thought to yourself. Not that he was wrong, because he wasn’t, being your first and all, but, come on, you didn’t get all your skills from sucking one dick, no matter how amazing Taehyung’s was. Oh well, you let it slide, simply enjoying not having to do much as your best friend fucked your face and your boyfriend pounded your pussy.

Ah, bliss.

The feeling of your mouth being filled and used, stroking Taehyung’s hips with your fingertips, elbows on the bed, legs spread open for Jungkook to slap his crotch into your ass wetly, back to front, a constant encompassing ecstasy that you welcomed, letting them command the pace, hands on your head and hands on your ass, familiar hands, loving hands, because even if Taehyung didn’t want to take you on dates and wake up next to you every day, he still loved you, still made sure he didn’t actually hurt you, careful to thrust hard but not deep, or thrust deep but not hard.

Jungkook wanted to take you on dates and hold you on his arm like his trophy and be waltzed around as yours, so… romantic? It was your version of romance, anyway.

And sex.

Lots of sex.

Fuck, he was so good at fucking you, leaning down, giving you more, chuckling as he heard you moaning around Taehyung’s cock, faster, harder, yes, fuck, yes, so good, your noises trapped in your chest, Taehyung increasing the speed, breathing shallowing.

“Fuck, yes, tighter, give it to me, you dirty devil,” he growled and you obeyed, closing your lips and pressing your tongue against the bottom, sandwiching his length in your mouth, your pussy also squeezing Jungkook harder, basking in his sinful moan, enamored with his voice and the way he said your name, never getting enough.

“A-ah, you feel so good, your pussy is so fucking good, gonna make me cum…”

So rough, so intense, so full of cock, keeping your holes tight, relishing in the way they forced themselves into your mouth and pussy, heady and intoxicating pleasure, you tipping over the edge, wailing around Taehyung’s thick girth as you spilled onto Jungkook’s rock-hard length, mind-numbing satisfaction that spread all over, hot and melting into you. Your walls violently spasmed and caused Jungkook to gasp, cock twitching and jolting inside you, shooting thick spurts of cum that filled the condom, and he buried himself all the way in, a wanton moan of your name echoing off your bedroom walls, savoring the feeling of you milking him, gripping your sides and squeezing you lovingly.

Suddenly, Taehyung yanked his cock out of your mouth and you coughed, startled at the abrupt loss, only for him to orgasm all over your face, hot white strings shooting out of his glistening cock and his hand guiding them, painting your cheeks and open mouth, dripping onto your tongue and clinging onto your swollen lips.

“Tae! What the fuck?!”

He snickered, smearing the residual cum on the side of your frown, winking.

“Blessed service, eh, you devil?”

-

“Is it gonna be like this every time we hang out now?”

You climbed onto Jeon Jungkook’s lap, kissing him deeper, trapping his slim waist in between your thighs, his hands sliding up your skirt, moaning into your mouth as Kim Taehyung smacked you in the shoulder blades, the sound masked by the obscenely loud music of the club as onlookers watched you and Jungkook with increasing interest.

Probably all dreaming of threesomes with you two.

“Hello, you two are supposed to be helping me getting laid, not getting laid right in front of me!”

--

masterpost

[silvermoongirl10swfics]

Learning to deal with emotionally crippling pain

For @codywanweek 2021 Day 2: AU (Modern University AU.)

You can also read this fic here on A03.

(The title of the fic will make sense after reading the fic.)

This is set at Manchester Metropolitan University in the UK, where I went to uni. As I wanted to combine the uni I loved going to with one of my favourite ships.

No major warnings, but there is a slight, non-graphic, description of how bodies were buried during the Black Death (this may seem very random, but I don’t want to gross anyone out.)

(I was inspired by @catawampuscorner​ drawing adorable baby clones in animal onesies, the cuteness now lives rent free in my brain and my brain desperately wanted to add baby clones and baby Jedi in animal onesies to this fic due to their wonderful drawings of the baby clones. So, I have referenced codywan and some other clones being youngsters in animal onesies near the end of this fic.)

Also Wolffe and Fox are twins because I thought of the idea about a month ago and loved it so much. 

Cody hefted his kit bag onto his shoulder and nodded in thanks to the bus driver as he stepped off the bus on Oxford Road. He turned hearing a loud thump and rolled his eyes, Fives had, against Cody’s and Rex’s advice, decided to sit on the top deck of the double-decker bus while carrying his heavy rugby kit bag. Unsurprisingly Fives stumbled and hit the wall of the stairs as he tried to walk down the steep steps, his bag over balancing him. Rex threw out an arm to steady their younger brother and then the two of them joined Cody on the pavement.

“We did warn you,” stated Rex with a roll of his eyes.

“Whatever,” griped Fives. Without another word, Fives was walking through All Saints Park, no doubt heading back to the student halls where he shared a flat with his twin Echo and six other first year students.

“I really hope Echo is better soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take Fives in this mood,” sighed Rex shaking his head.

“You and me both,” agreed Cody with a nod of his head at his younger brother.

Cody was the eldest of the four brothers, and was currently in his third and final year of studying his undergraduate history degree at Manchester Metropolitan University. Rex was eleven months younger than him and was in his second year studying law, Echo and Fives were their younger brothers who were twins. The family hadn’t thought that Fives was interested in going to university, which was fine with them as they didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t want. But when Echo announced his intention of going to study mathematics at the same university where Cody and Rex were studying, Fives suddenly announced that he was also going to Man Met to study physiotherapy. The twins were in their first year and two years ago, at eighteen, Cody had thought he would be getting some peace from his three younger brothers, in the end he only got one year of peace before his brothers joined him in quick succession. But thankfully he only had to put up with living with them when they were all home for the holidays. As Cody shared a one-bedroom flat with his long-term boyfriend Obi-Wan who had also chosen to study at Man Met, also in his third year, studying English literature. Obi-Wan and Cody had been best friends since their first day at primary school aged four, later confessing their romantic feelings for each other when they were sixteen, both coming down from the stress of getting their GCSE results. They hadn’t actually told each other where they were applying for university, not wanting to influence each other’s decision. But they still ended up at the same university anyway, not that Cody was complaining.

Like Cody, Obi-Wan had not been able to escape his younger brother. Anakin was friends with Fives and Echo as they were the same age, Anakin was in his first year studying engineering at Man Met. It was funny to Cody, because Echo and Anakin’s subjects were in the same faculty, they often saw each other as their lectures and seminars took place in the John Dalton buildings, whereas Fives went to lectures across the main road on the slightly smaller campus in the Brooks Building. Fives had always been protective of Echo, his reasoning being he was the older twin so had to look out for Echo. But after Echo got hurt in a car accident when they were fifteen driving home with their dad, Fives had grown even more protective, somehow blaming himself because he wasn’t there in the car with Echo. The youngest of the four brothers hadn’t been seriously hurt, but the accident had gained him a constant shadow. So, when the twins applied to the university, they looked at the map of the two campuses and picked Oxford Court for their student halls accommodation because it was pretty much in the middle of where the two of them would have their lectures and seminars.

With another look in the direction Fives had gone, feeling a rare moment of relief at seeing his brother walk away. Cody loved his brothers, but because Echo had gotten injured in their last rugby game, he couldn’t take part in practice and it had left Fives in a mood for the past week. Neither Echo, Cody or Rex could seem to talk Fives out of his mood, leading to Cody thinking he may have to call their parents to talk some sense into Fives. But he didn’t want to worry his mum, which is what would happen if Cody had to tell her Fives still wasn’t okay a week after Echo badly spraining his ankle. So, Cody’s only other option would be to call his twin cousins, Wolffe and Fox who were both in their third and final years of studying at the same university in London. Wolffe was studying sport science, while Fox was studying history like Cody, but with more of a focus on medical history while Cody preferred military history.

Wolffe and Fox were the closest cousins Cody and his brothers had, due to their parents all moving to Britain from New Zealand due to his father and uncle getting jobs with the same tech company before Cody, Wolffe and Fox were born. Leaving the rest of the aunts, uncles and cousins back in New Zealand with their grandparents. Cody then reflected, calling the other twins might not be a bad idea. Wolffe would be gruff but caring in talking to Fives and if that failed, Fox would just beat sense into him either verbally or physically. With there being direct trains from London to Manchester, Cody wouldn’t be surprised if Fox came in person to beat some sense into Fives. Fox had no patience for Fives’ protective older brother routine of Echo and that was down to Wolffe being protective of Fox. Which he hated, but to be fair to Wolffe, he was fully justified going by the amount of coffee and lack of sleep Fox was powering through to work on his assignments and dissertation. Despite the fact it was still January and Fox had three months left until he had to hand in his dissertation.

Thinking of dissertations, Cody waved goodbye to Rex and headed towards the cafeteria in the Business School building to get some tea for his boyfriend. Once he acquired the tea in a take away cup, he went next door to the library where Obi-Wan was working on his dissertation, thankful that their university library allowed food and drink as long as it was silent. Fox was insanely jealous as his university library forbade any food or drink to enter the building, meaning Fox was deprived of his precious coffee. Which was why Wolffe pushed Fox to work in the library as often as he could. Cody didn’t mind plying Obi-Wan with tea, because while he could say Obi-Wan was additive to his tea, he didn’t drink any caffeinated tea two hours before going to bed, unlike Fox who was known to drink a mug of coffee before going to bed if Wolffe hadn’t managed to stop him. It was a wonder Wolffe hadn’t gone grey with the amount of time he spent worrying over his twin brother.

Cody scanned his student card to let him past the barriers and started walking up the two flights of stairs to the floor Obi-Wan liked to work on. The library was massive, with its different wings and five floors, but Cody was glad it was so big because it could be divided into silent study areas and group study areas, where you could talk so long as you were quiet. Obi-Wan, like Cody, hated working in complete silence and in their first year they found a nook between some shelves that had a table where they could bring their own laptops to work on their essays together. But were conveniently close to university computers so they could log on to print their work if needed. It was also a space their brothers had been unable to find them in, although Cody was fairly certain Rex knew where he liked to work, but was kind enough to leave him alone. Anakin, Echo and Fives would not be as considerate.

He walked through the doors into the study area and walked halfway into the big room with its rows of computers and shelves of books, until he found Obi-Wan hunched over his notes and two books he was using for his dissertation. Cody silently reminded himself that he was due to meet with his dissertation supervisor tomorrow to check the progress on his second chapter. He placed the cup of tea on the table beside Obi-Wan’s laptop and pressed a kiss onto the mess of copper hair, noting that his boyfriend hadn’t shaved again, making him wonder if Obi-Wan was committing to growing a beard. If he did, it would be because Obi-Wan was fed up of people thinking he was sixteen or seventeen, rather than being almost twenty-one years old, something that delighted Anakin to no end. Obi-Wan slowly sat up and blinked owlishly at him and rubbed a hand over his face. “Rugby practice is over already?” he asked in confusion as he looked at his watch.

Cody snorted in amusement, “thankfully yes.” Obi-Wan had come to the library just after Cody left their flat for practice, that had been two and half hours ago.

Obi-Wan reached for his tea and sighed in pleasure when he sipped on the hot liquid. “Fives still in a mood then?”

“Yes,” he sighed in exasperation as he sat down beside Obi-Wan and putting his kit bag on the floor with a roll of his shoulder.

Raising a knowing eyebrow over the rim of his cup, Obi-Wan asked. “Are you going to call Wolffe and Fox?” Cody nodded in agreement, smiling to himself, happy at how easily Obi-Wan fit into his family. Obi-Wan, Cody, Wolffe and Fox had all gone through school together. Obi-Wan and Anakin’s dad, Qui-Gon, was a friend of Cody’s parents and often came over for dinner. According to his dad, Cody’s mum and Qui-Gon had been having wine nights when they lamented over their empty nests and how it was unfair how quickly their children were growing up. While Cody’s aunt just laughed at them because Wolffe and Fox had left home for university almost three years before.

They lapsed into silence, and Cody just let himself day dream as he listened to the clack of Obi-Wan’s keyboard. He also ran through a mental list of things he needed to do for his dissertation and thought he could do with another trip down to London to go to the National Archives again for some more primary sources. His phone buzzed and Cody snorted at the text message from Echo.

[Echo] Fives is in SUCH a bad mood! Please help me!

[Cody] Sorry Echo. Rex and I had him for two hours, we need a break.

[Echo] WORST BIG BROTHERS EVER!!!!

[Echo] I hope you marry Obi-Wan so I can adopt him as my favourite older brother.

[Echo] You know what. I’m not waiting until you marry him. He’s my favourite brother now.

Cody chuckled to himself, he couldn’t argue with Echo, Obi-Wan was his favourite person too.

[Cody] What WILL Fives say?

[Echo] Right now I don’t care. He’s driving me INSANE!!!!

[Cody] I was going to call Wolffe and Fox to see if they could help.

[Echo] PLEASE!!! I am BEGGING YOU!!!!

[Echo] You know what?

[Echo] Just skip straight to Fox.

[Echo] And record it. I want to relive that future moment for forever. Fox’s position as my favourite cousin will be secured.

Cody snorted in amusement again, Obi-Wan turned to him in question. So, Cody just showed him the messages and Obi-Wan shook his head in amusement, but he blushed slightly. No doubt due to Echo’s comments on Cody marrying Obi-Wan.

“Echo wishing harm on Fives. I never thought I’d see the day,” commented Obi-Wan, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. No doubt remembering the times Fox lost his patience with bullies and idiots they went to school with and just went for them. Their aunt had to give Fox the disapproving lecture, but she also slipped Fox money for standing up to bullies for other kids. So, Fox’s handling of bullies and idiots had never been stopped, only been encouraged.

“Oh, Echo can be pushed to it,” chuckled Cody, recalling the few times Fives had made Echo lose his temper. Echo was a nice and quiet person, which also made him one of those people you did not want to make angry, because when his patience snapped. It snapped. He could be worse than Fox, and that said something.

“By the way, your dad text me. He’s invited me to a family reunion dinner in a month’s time. So, is anyone coming over from New Zealand?” Obi-Wan asked as he started to tidy his books away and turn off his laptop.

Cody nodded. “My grandparents are coming over in three weeks and are staying until the summer as they want to be here for mine, Wolffe and Fox’s graduations. Then a few of the cousins are coming over in the summer.” He smiled to himself; it would be nice to see his family members again. They all saw each other every year, one year Cody and his family would fly out to New Zealand and the next year the family would fly over to Britain for a few weeks. With all of the cousins now at university, it made sorting out reunions easier due to the longer holidays they all had.

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled with amusement again, “anymore family arguments to look forward to?” he laughed.

“Probably,” Cody sighed as he rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan had come out to New Zealand with him last summer and witnessed some truly spectacular family arguments and rather silly ones as well. The most prominent being about Fox and Echo’s names.

When Fox had been a toddler, he and Wolffe had been put into animal onesies (Cody and his brothers also shared that misfortune with their cousins, but the less said about that the better), Wolffe into a wolf onesie and Fox into a fox onesie. Ever since Fox wanted to be called Fox, as he hated his proper name, the name being Frederick. If anyone ever called him Frederick when he was a small child he bit them, leading to his parents to tell their school when they started that it would be best if they didn’t call Fox Frederick for the safety of their own fingers.

Then when Echo had been four and in school, learning about words that began with the letter E, he heard the word Echo and wanted to call himself that, because he didn’t like being called Eli. Cody’s mum had tried to tell Echo his name was Eli, but Echo said Fox picked his name, so why couldn’t he? Cody’s mum tried her hardest to get Echo to forget about calling himself Echo, seeing as he was named after his mum’s father-in-law Elias and didn’t want to offend him. But Echo just started repeating everything everyone said, until the point their dad begged their mum to just let Echo call himself Echo. Fives didn’t want to be left out, and chose the nickname Fives, but he wasn’t involved in the arguments because he let their grandmother still call him Felix. Echo and Fox on the other hand, both refused to answer to their given names. And Obi-Wan had witnessed their grandmother once again getting annoyed when Echo and Fox didn’t answer her when she called them Eli and Frederick. That was also the visit where Obi-Wan learnt just who Echo and Fox inherited their stubbornness from. Grandpa Elias was not offended and found the whole thing hilarious and continued to congratulate Echo on his name every time he saw Echo. Cody was also convinced, his grandmother only continued the argument for the sake of it, he had seen her handwriting in birthday cards calling Echo and Fox by their chosen names. But she still wrote Eli and Frederick on family Christmas cards, again probably just for the drama.

But some uncles and aunts were not happy with Echo and Fox changing their names, albeit not legally, because other cousins began following their lead. Namely their four cousins who were all siblings (two sets of twins), Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech. The four of them changing their names and even happily calling themselves the Bad Batch at family gatherings much to the ire of their mother. Fives was blamed for their collective nickname, as Obi-Wan found out and thought it was hilarious. The Bad Batch had invited Echo to play with them when they were small, and Fives who had not been invited to play had been jealous and called them the Bad Batch, the four of them had loved it and adopted it as their group name.

Obi-Wan started to laugh quietly to himself as he put his laptop away in his bag. At Cody’s questioning look he smiled and said. “I’m just wondering who will be the first to say something to disrupt family dinner. Either you, your brothers or your cousins will say something. You have done ever since the first family dinner I was invited to when I was five.”

Cody smirked to himself and nodded, “honestly I’m expecting it to be Fox again. You know he deals with stress in the weirdest ways.”

“You mean like putting everyone else off their food?” teased Obi-Wan, his eyes glinting at the memory of the last dinner everyone had together.

Over the four-week long Christmas holiday, Cody’s parents had hosted numerous family dinners, wanting to spend as much time together as possible. As it was understood with Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox graduating university later that year, they may not get to come home as often anymore. Also, as Cody’s uncle and aunt lived next door to them and Obi-Wan lived five houses further down the road, it was very easy for Cody’s uncle and aunt, Wolffe, Fox, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Anakin to join their family for dinner. Which also meant, Cody and Obi-Wan had to suffer the embarrassment of watching Qui-Gon and Cody’s mum tearfully looking at photos of them growing up, mourning the loss of their ‘little ones’. While Cody’s aunt sipped on her glass of red wine and cackled at them, saying it was better to have both her kids leave the nest at once, as she didn’t have to go through kids moving out more than once.

Cody had also been horrified to learn there existed a photo of him in an animal onesie after all, and to make it worse, he was four in the photo. He was at school, but because his mum wanted a picture of all her boys in their animal onesies, he had been put into his old lion onesie (mane included on the hood) that was getting too small for him. But it had interested him to see it was a group photo of all of them sat on the living room floor. Obi-Wan was also in the photo, in a onesie that resembled the fictional varactyl creature he had been obsessed with when he was four. His unimpressed look matching Cody’s, in the photo both of them had their arms crossed as they glared at their parents off camera. Wolffe and Fox were also in the photo, but too busy pulling on each other’s hoods, Wolffe almost taking off one of Fox’s onesie’s ears. Rex, at three, was happily beaming at their mum in his elephant onesie that included a small trunk attached to the hood. Leaning against Rex on his left was Anakin, who at two, was too busy trying to eat his own foot as he sat in his dog onesie. On Rex’s right was the little twins, Echo beaming at the camera in his giraffe onesie as he lifted a hand up to squeeze the felt face of the giraffe attached to the hood and Fives, in a moose onesie (seriously where had his parents found these?), was busy trying to grab one of his felt antlers and eat it. Apparently, their parents had kept all of the onesies, what they planned to do with them Cody couldn’t guess.

But while the onesie group photo had been embarrassing, it hadn’t put anyone off their food. No, that came when Cody’s dad asked all of them how university was going. Everyone listened as one by one, all the boys explained what they had been doing. The adults patiently listened as Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox talked about their dissertations and skilfully manoeuvring the conversation so as to avoid third year meltdowns as the families had taken to calling their tearful, stressed rants. While Rex, Anakin, Fives and Echo stared at them in dawning horror as they realised what was in their immediate future. Fox had given Cody advice on where to find primary sources, as Fox was writing his ten-thousand-word dissertation on the Black Death and at this point, was basically an expert on where to find medical documents from varying time periods. Which was immensely helpful for Cody because his dissertation was on the treatment of shell shock in the First World War.

Dinner seemed to then settle, with all the boys commenting on funny or interesting things they had heard at university. When Fox piped up, “I was reading a chapter for my dissertation when the author commented that they buried people who had died of the Black Death by lying down a layer of bodies, then a layer of soil, another layer of bodies, more soil, more bodies and then the final layer of soil. It was interesting that the author used the analogy of the bodies been buried like how you make a lasagne.”

Everyone stopped, many of the people gathered around the table stared at Fox, with forks paused in the air. Fox, oblivious continued to eat his dinner with a smile on his face. Which was lasagne. Wolffe just shook his head and sighed in exasperation as he stopped eating his portion of lasagne and instead reached for a piece of garlic bread. Obi-Wan, taking interest in the analogy, was asking Fox if he had come across any other analogies like it. Rex, Echo and Fives dropped their forks and looked at their food in faint disgust. Qui-Gon and Anakin, who normally didn’t find anything disgusting, looked down at the lasagne on their plates in muted horror. Cody’s parents and uncle just sighed, with his uncle massaging his forehead in exasperation, while Cody’s aunt lifted her wine glass up and saluted Fox with it before taking a sip (Fox was a lot like his mother). Cody raised an eyebrow at his cousin, Fox smirked and then reached for the serving dish in the centre of the table. “Oh, no one else wants anymore? Guess I’ll finish the lasagne up then,” Fox stated with a mock innocent look on his face. Wolffe just sighed again and thumped his head down onto the table. Leaving Cody with the impression that Fox was hungry and saw how quickly the food was disappearing and decided to take matters into his own hands.

As Cody and Obi-Wan walked out of the library holding hands, Cody turned to Obi-Wan and smirked. “It is safe to say, lasagne will not be on the menu.”

Obi-Wan laughed loudly as they made their way into the cold air outside, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. Obi-Wan also admitted that neither his father nor Anakin, had been able to eat lasagne since that dinner. Anakin had seen lasagne being served for lunch at the university one day and had practically fled the cafeteria.

Together they walked to the bus stop that was less than a minute walk from the library and sat in contented silence as they travelled from campus on the short bus journey to their flat. Their shoulders knocked gently together as they swayed as the bus pulled in and out of bus stops. Their hands were still clasped together, and Obi-Wan was looking out of the window with a smile on his face as he watched people go about their day. Cody found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Obi-Wan’s face, watching as his eyes crinkled as he smiled at the sight of a giggling child play peekaboo with their younger sibling. The bright winter sun turned Obi-Wan’s copper hair into flames and it was a sight that always memorised Cody without fail. It was the sight that led to four-year-old him talking to Obi-Wan on their first day at school because he had never seen someone with the same-coloured hair as Obi-Wan before. Cody only realised they had reached the bus stop they needed when Obi-Wan pressed the button to alert the driver to stop. He reached down for his kit bag and swung it up onto his shoulder, they walked off the bus, thanked the driver and continued walking while holding hands. Obi-Wan began to talk about a book he had had to read for one of his modules and while Cody never heard of the book before, he enjoyed seeing how excited Obi-Wan was about it.

Once they got inside their flat, Obi-Wan put his bag, that contained his laptop and some books, on the floor by the door and went into the kitchen. Cody watched him for a moment, glad to see Obi-Wan was distracted making them both some lunch. Cody sat at their table and turned his laptop on and logged into the website where he was creating a photobook of photos of himself and Obi-Wan throughout their lives as a birthday present. There were hundreds of photos of them together over the years they had known each other, there were photos of primary, secondary and sixth form last days. Seeing how they had changed in those years was endearing and funny at the same time. Cody caught Obi-Wan looking over at him and Cody playfully tilted his laptop screen away from Obi-Wan’s view, not that his boyfriend could see it from where he was anyway. Obi-Wan smiled and then turned back to the sandwiches he was making. Obi-Wan knew he was getting his birthday present, just as Cody was aware Obi-Wan was also organising his birthday present, as Obi-Wan’s birthday was two days before Cody’s.

Cody checked through the photobook one last time and then seeing that everything was as he wanted it, he clicked order and waited for the confirmation email to arrive. Once it had, he closed his laptop down and smiled as Obi-Wan, at that moment, walked up to him and handed him a plate with his sandwich and an apple.

“I love you,” Cody said with a smile.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes fondly, “ah yes. You only love me for my sandwich making skills.”

“You caught me!” chuckled Cody as he held his hands up in defence. They shared a smile and then both began eating their sandwiches in earnest. They chatted about friends from home who had gone to other universities or who went into work, the friends they had made in Manchester, the antics of crazy younger brothers and they also talked about if they wanted to do a Masters degree in their subject and if they did, where should they go? As it wasn’t a question about if they would go together, even if Obi-Wan decided to do a Masters and Cody didn’t, he was still going to move to whichever city Obi-Wan chose to go to for his Masters. But Cody was also liking the idea of doing a history Masters himself. “We could go to London. Wolffe and Fox are both going to do a Masters, we could go to uni with them.”

Obi-Wan frowned at him in amusement. “I thought you loved living in Manchester.”

“I do,” agreed Cody. “But I also want some peace from my brothers.” He added with a faked whining tone.

His boyfriend chuckled and then said. “You could apply to University of Manchester. So, you can stay in the city, but be in a different university to your brothers.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “As if that would stop them just turning up on Uni of’s campus,” he grumbled under his breath. He didn’t even think moving to the moon would stop his brothers from turning up to inconvenience him.

Obi-Wan just chuckled to himself as he shook his head, having to admit that going to Uni of would not stop Rex, Fives and Echo from turning up to see Cody. Within three weeks of starting the academic year, they had already worked out what rooms Cody had his seminars in and at what time they finished, so they could stand outside and wait for him. Despite Cody never once showing them his timetable.

After lunch, Cody began looking through some books for information he could add to his dissertation, while Obi-Wan turned his laptop on to work on one of his assignments. At the sound of an exasperated sigh, Cody looked up with one raised eyebrow to find Obi-Wan glaring at his laptop screen. “Problem?” he prompted lightly.

His boyfriend rolled his eyes and stated, “I hate this. We have a dissertation and other essays we need to complete that count towards our final degree. But then we are asked to write a two-thousand-word essay on the skills we have learnt doing our English degree and how those skills can help us in the workplace. While also having to give examples of jobs that use and need those skills.” Obi-Wan growled in frustration, “it is so pointless, but we have to do it otherwise we can be penalised if we don’t. But it’s wasting our time, we have other more important things to do.”

Cody grimaced and then reached out to squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand. “I totally get your frustration. We have been asked to do the exact same thing.”

Obi-Wan just groaned and thunked his head on the table, “I hate this. This is stress I do not need.” Cody smiled to himself and with his free hand, he ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp with his nails.

When Obi-Wan had relaxed, Cody recalled the lecture when he had been told about the assignment and how the career’s department guest lecturer and one of his usual history lecturers asked for people to give examples of skills, they had learnt doing their degree. He must have laughed to himself, because Obi-Wan was turning his head, leaving his face resting against the table top, and gave him an unimpressed glare. “Are you laughing at my pain?”

“No,” soothed Cody, brushing the hair out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Just remembering what Bly said in our lecture about the skills we have learnt doing a history degree.”

“Care to share? It might help me out,” asked Obi-Wan.

Cody smirked, “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain.”

There was a pause, and then Obi-Wan was laughing, his shoulders shaking as he lifted his head up from the table and instead rested it against Cody’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s a good one. I wonder if I could get away with using it?” he mused.

“I have no idea. But like you, I am tempted to use it,” stated Cody, happy to see a bit of life back in Obi-Wan’s eyes. There was nothing more depressing that having to complete a pointless assignment when you had a hundred other things to do that actually mattered for your degree.

They made the collective decision to stop working for the rest of the day, they were both mentally tired and decided they could do with a break. So, they found a film to watch, which led to another film, which led to another, until it was time for them to eat dinner. After they had shared the cooking, eaten and then shared the washing up, they decided to have an early night. Seeing as they both had nine am lectures on campus and arranged to meet in the library afterwards before Cody’s meeting with his dissertation supervisor.

As they stretched out on their bed, Cody pulling Obi-Wan to half lay on top of him, their legs tangled together. Despite the early time of the evening, the warmth and the presence of each other led them both to become drowsy and their eyes flickered heavily.

“Good night Cody,” yawned Obi-Wan, his jaw cracking at the force of the yawn.

“G’night Obi. Love you,” Cody breathed out on a sigh, his eyes closing as he felt himself begin to drift.

“Love you Code,” mumbled Obi-Wan as he pressed his face into the crook of Cody’s neck. With his nose pressed into Obi-Wan’s hair, Cody pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead and felt a kiss pressed against his neck in return. With a smile on his face, Cody drifted off into sleep, where university stress faded away until it captured his attention tomorrow, but for now, he was able to sleep peacefully with his boyfriend in his arms.

End note:

I would draw the photo of all the boys in their onesies, but alas I cannot draw so let the image live on in our imaginations. 

Also I really enjoyed writing this AU, so if anyone wants to see more from it (including Rex, Fives, Echo, Wolffe, Fox and Anakin) let me know!

I went to Manchester Metropolitan University and as I loved it there so much, I chose to make it the setting for my AU for codywanweek. The road, buildings, halls and park are real places at the university and writing this fic has just made me want to go back there. I couldn’t come up with a degree for Cody so I just gave him my degree and dissertation focus (so yes there does exist a 10,000-word dissertation on the treatment of shell shock in WWI). At MMU we did call the University of Manchester Uni of, to differentiate between the two universities.

The Black Death lasagne analogy does actually exist in a historical book somewhere. I didn’t actually read it, but one of my flatmates in first year, who also did history, did. He was revising for one of our exams and he excitedly burst into the shared kitchen, saw me and geeked out over the funny analogy, we laughed about it, about how it was such a random analogy to use. (But after a few years I still remember it, so I guess it’s useful.) But then one of our other flatmates, who wasn’t studying history, turned around and complained at us, because she was in the process of making lasagne for her dinner. So, the reactions to Fox’s gleeful explanation of the analogy are based on truth. Our flatmate didn’t want to eat her dinner because of us. As I was writing this fic, the analogy popped back into my head and I felt it would be such a Fox thing to say.

Cody’s line of “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain” during a career’s lecture. Is something that I heard said in a career’s lecture I had to sit through in my second year. So again, something else in this fic that is based on truth.

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Season 2- Victor and MC- Chapter 4 & 5 (Eng Translation)- Part 3

⌚Warning:⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to release in the global server. Don't continue under the cut if you don't wish to be spoiled!(◍•ᴗ•◍)

✧✧ PART 1 || PART 2

-

✧ [CH 4-12] ✧

At BS office: With the help of her subordinates, MC is working on gathering information on Lu Kang, and the mysterious man in black. But the tracker she left on him lost its signal after some time, so the investigation has reached an dead-end for now.

It's also the day Victor will be released from the hospital. So, MC goes to pick him up.

He has changed out of his hospital gown, and returned to his suit and leather shoes.

I sigh inwardly, though Victor has always been very busy, but recently he seems to have become even busier.

MC: You've just been discharged from hospital, don't you want to go home and rest?

Victor: It's not like I was really hospitalized. Besides, I remember that you still have something to report to me.

MC: Now I understand that being a CEO is really not easy.

Victor: If you really want to be considerate of others, improve the quality of your work.

I tilt my face up, and pat my bag while looking at him.

MC: So where does CEO Victor want to test the quality of my work?

Victor: Go to LFG.

-

MC notes that Victor gets in his work mode™ as soon as he enters LFG LOL

MC reports Victor about her findings that Lu Kang once lost a lawsuit against LFG and seemed to hold LFG responsible for the bankruptcy.

Victor explains that the deal with Lu Kang's company didn't proceed because they were found secretly making false accounts and such doings will eventually lead to plummeting. LFG never did or neither do they need to persecute anyone for business competition, and it'll bring more trouble than benefits anyway.

I scrutinize the sharp air exuding from his eyebrows, and can't help but mutter under my breath.

MC: Victor, you've always been so decisive and swift in action. Haven't you made more or less some enemies?

[Note: MC uses the idiom "雷厉风行" which literally translates to- passing like thunder and moving like wind.]

Victor: When there are interests involved, even if you do nothing, there will be enemies. The rules of the game are inherently cruel, and to have people who want to put some tricks to use, is quite ordinary.

MC gives Victor another report which she compiled based on Lu Kang's memory.

MC points out- the lawsuit incident was a while ago and it shouldn't be the reason he attacked Victor. She assumes-- it has something to do with the "game" that was mentioned in his memory many times. Lu Kang and the young man who partnered in the game probably tried to escape halfway, and they were killed because of the "no escapee rule."

Victor takes MC's reasoning under consideration, and specifically points out that all the victims of the murders are Evolvers. MC expresses her assumption that it could be because the authority of the game has some hidden agenda.

We glance at each other, and once again each sink into reflecting on the matter.

After a while, Victor picks up the last page of the report, and flips through it.

Victor: The trail for that killer is broken?

MC: Yes, should be. We suspect that he threw away the tracker.

Victor looks at the contents of the report repeatedly, then presses it on the table, and taps his fingertips on the last spot tracked by the tracker.

Victor: This place, you've only checked the public webpage. So the trail is not completely broken yet. Let them use the internal channels to investigate again. Don't waste the first-level authority I gave you.

Victor raises his eyes and looks at me, then puts the report back in my hand.

MC: Do I need to investigate that game altogether?

Victor: No need. I will send someone specialized to investigate. Remember, everything you just said is only a conjecture.

Victor: Without my permission, do not voluntarily investigate in private.

MC: Yes, BOSS.

The worries that have been clogging up in my chest for days, finally dissipates in several degrees. Even if I sympathized with Lu Kang, this action to get back at someone is never the right thing to do.

MC: Fortunately, this car accident is not related to the Evolver assassination. Just as I said, who would be so courageous, that he dares to pick a fight with CEO Victor?

Victor: The "bodyguard" is finally relieved?

MC: Relieved!

Victor: Go back when you feel relieved. Start concentrating on your task next week.

I grab the report, preparing to leave, just then Victor calls me again. I look back, and see that he seems to have sent a message to someone.

He halts for a moment, then stands up with one hand propped on the tabletop, his deep gaze falling on my face.

Victor: Thank you for these few days.

I stare blankly at him for a while, and quickly perk up with an even bigger smile.

MC: No need to be polite, Mr. Victor. Just let me book a free pudding from Souvenir!

I turn around at Victor's momentary expression of helplessness, running out of the office like a wisp of smoke.

Ever since confirming his safety, I feel that every time we see each other, it all becomes much more relaxed.

Behind the current life, there are still bubbling up unsettling factors in motion.

But precisely because things being as such, is what makes me want to cherish the rare tranquility all the more.

-

✧ [4-13] ✧

Just a moment after walking out of the LFG building, I suddenly remember that I've forgotten one thing, and rush back to the lobby.

After talking to the administrative staff at the front desk, I dial Victor's number.

Victor: Hello?

MC: Victor, I forgot one thing just now. To congratulate you on your 'discharge', I've prepared a small gift for you. The staff will deliver it for me later.

Victor: ....I've said I wasn't really hospitalized. What are you up to again?

MC: Just treat it as a blessing. You must accept it! That's all.

Victor: Hold on.

MC: Is there anything else?

Victor: Help me think of a name.

MC: What kind of name? A kitten, a puppy or a relative's child?

Victor: ....Common name, male.

MC: Why are you asking this all of a sudden?

Victor: Because your imagination is comperatively rich.

What kind of answer is this...

I complain inwardly, but still give it a serious thought.

MC: Let me think. How about this one!

(Players get to choose a name from the three options)

Victor: What kind of strange name is that...

Victor's helpless sigh comes from the other end of the phone.

Victor: Never mind. I shouldn't have had any expectations. I'll accept your gift. That's all.

After hanging up the call, I'm still a little baffled by the request.

He abruptly asked me to help think of a name, and also a male's name. Could it be that he is going to use it himself?

Could it be that there is something that requires a disguised identity?

But does he even need to disguise.... aren't the six letters "Victor" the best pass in itself.

Anyway, the name I gave him off the top of my head, he definitely won't use it.

I shake my head, my train of thoughts returning to the gift I've left behind just a moment ago, and can't help but look forward to it.

I wonder when the Victor of now receives this gift, what will the expression on his face be like?

-

✧[POV back to Victor's office]✧

Closing the last document, Victor leans into his chair, gently pinching his brows.

Opening his eyes, the pink-colored gift box on the corner of the table enters his line of sight again. The lofty color seems to be urging him to open it as soon as possible.

Victor unwraps the box, and inside lies a round Shiba Inu doll, appearing a little old.

He wrinkles his eyebrows, takes it out, and sees a small folded note also being pressed onto the bottom of the box.

He patiently unfolds the note again, the carefully and neatly written calligraphy greets his eyes.

Victor: (reading the note) "Congratulations on your 'recovery,' and here's a small gift for you. This is the doll that has accompanied me for many years. I wish you well and hope you're happy." - MC

Victor: ....Childish.

Victor subconsciously says a word, and falls silent again.

Unknowingly why, but he always feels that he's somewhat familiar with this scene, but he also can't amalgamate the impression any further.

Even just the silly Shiba-Inu doll on the table, brings him a trace of intimacy.

[Note: This is the same Shiba-Inu doll MC's dad gifted her as a kid, and she gave it to Victor in S1 "Rooftop Date," when she wanted to comfort him realizing how much he misses his departed mom.]

It seems as if, ever since meeting her and getting acquainted with each other, this strange feeling often arises.

Is it because she has an Evol associated with memories?

But again, Victor is also very clear that her Evol doesn't have effect on himself.

Or is that, it's simply owing to her?

Victor blankly stares at the doll for a while, and by the time he circles back to his senses, it's already somewhat late.

He pulls open a locked drawer next to his desk, puts the doll inside, and catches a glimpse of the document marked with a sharp " S " symbol underneath.

"Illegal psychoactive drugs", " CORE", "has the potential to stimulate Evol"...

Several eye-catching keywords are marked in red, even in the twilight, which are still clearly identifiable.

The information the girl has reported to him once again surfaces in Victor's mind.

She has organized it very meticulously, but after reading it all thoroughly, the dense fog before his eyes hasn't dispersed.

Those layers of crisscrossing threads seems to have already involved all the parties, standing in different positions, making the situation chaotic.

And all these disputes still ultimately point to the same source--

BLACK SWAN CORE.

When it's all said and done, is this situation because everyone is eager to obtain it, or is there an unknown force hiding in the depository, pulling the strings?

There are still numerous issues that needs to be resolved, and one can not always watch the fire burning across the river.

Victor locks the drawer, and glances at the clock on the wall.

The phone rings at the right time, it's an encrypted email from BS.

Mail: "BOSS, as per your requirements, the relevant information has been sent to the other party."

Victor simply knocks down a reply, gets up and puts on his jacket, preparing to leave.

A pile of events is connected into a ring, and each angler, too, is bait for another.

He is looking forward to what kind of prey can be hooked this time.

-

✧ [CH 4-15] ✧

Victor meets Lucien at the research center, who hands him the report of a research.

Victor says the results are clear but Lucien says they only confirmed their guesses, and that CORE has been the focus of everyone after Evol was publicized, but there are perhaps other things affecting the world. Lucien asks if Victor feels that the world is not quite right and that every civilization circulates within a box, the time they have is likely more limited than expected.

Victor says it depends on how an individual views the matter, there's no need to pre-determine an outcome.

Lucien asks Victor if he believes he'll be able to get out of the box. Victor replies, "Not believe, it's a must."

After Victor gets in the car, he receives an email: "Dear Mr. [the name MC chose for him earlier], thank you for your support towards Hunter Games."

The rest of the email is basically explaining the rules of the game.‶

-

✧ [Victor scene in CH 5] ✧

Victor is returning from a business trip. After giving Goldman some instructions, he glances out of the window of the helicopter. Even though everything is peaceful, to him something always seems amiss.

He receives an email containing only one word, "Advanced." His expression doesn't change much since he already expected this outcome. The mail disappears, and he taps on another anonymous email with the instructions- He'll be entering the betting venue in 15 minutes and he should get prepared.

When the helicopter is about to land on the LFG rooftop, he glances out of the window once again and observes the people of the city living their day to day peaceful lives.

The noise-reduction headset cuts out the sound of the outside world, but the mere information sent back to him by his vision, is sufficient to prove the tranquility of the world before his eyes.

The helicopter lands. He settles some works with the staff.

Victor raises his hand to look at his watch, the gray clouds being reflected on the dial, slightly blurs the trajectory of the clock hands.

In a split second, along with lowering his arm, an inconspicuous red light suddenly streaks across the dial.

There's still ten minutes to enter the "betting venue".

The staff turns around, walking towards the elevator, cold wind blows on Victor's face, fluttering the hem of his coat.

Somewhere directly opposite, a small cross hair has always been aiming at the position of his heart.

??: "Code L" elimination plan in progress, target locked.

A second before the trigger is squeezed tightly, the person behind the lens suddenly lifts up, raises his head, looking straight into the set of deep eyes in the distance.

The clamors of the city conceals much of the noise, the discharge of bullet muffles in the silencer, so much so that in this shattering rain, it doesn't even make a crisp sound of snapping a branch.

A dispute between the light and the dark, seemingly has arrived to its conclusion.

[Trivia: The call that comes with the Chapter karma card-- is actually Victor nagging with MC on her report over phone inside the helicopter-- before it lands on the LFG rooftop!]

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Who could resist fluffy family fantasy!au??? 

Not me lol Thank you for the request, I hope you like it~

Giggling softly, you watched from your place perched up on the pillow covered bench of a windowsill as your husband wrestled playfully with your son, finding the rambunctious activities to be amusing. The five-year-old boy had grown quite the ferocious attitude, which was to be expected when taking his bloodline into consideration, so his endless energy wasn’t something to bat an eye at. Thankfully, your husband was equally energetic and easily able to entertain the boy, leaving you some quiet space up on your bench to watch and relax. Of course, you couldn’t help but feel a little worry as your lover scooped the child up and threw him backwards over his head, where he landed safely on the large bed with a bounce and a cackle. 

“Again, Dad! Again!” Leaping off the bed into his father’s arms, it was only a few seconds before he was thrown up into the air again, squealing and giggling as he landed on the plush mattress. The dragon skulls and bones that decorated the head and footboard didn’t give you peace of mind, however, and you couldn’t resist speaking up in worry. 

“Katsuki, maybe turn to look at where you’re throwing him at least? Those horns are just an accident waiting to happen.” 

“I know where I’m throwing him, babe, it’s alright.” Even with this comment, Bakugou still turned around, catching the child as he once again leapt towards him. Sitting on the floor on a large fur rug, he shot you a comforting glance before tossing the child onto the bed. “I wouldn’t let him hit the horns.” 

“I know you wouldn’t, I just,” a sigh interrupted you, giving a shake of your head in defeat. “Nevermind, I’m just being a worry wart.” 

“A wart?! Like a witch?!” The high-pitched voice came from beneath Bakugou’s fluffy fur adorned red cape, which began to move and wiggle with the tiny presence beneath it. “Like Daddy’s toe!” 

“Excuse me?” Bakugou gave the tiny body a nudge, unable to help a small smirk as it fell back with a squeak. “I do not have a wart on my toe. It’s a callus. From walking too much.” 

“Wart!” A small hand reached out from beneath the cape, snatching onto his bare toes that were visible beneath his cross legs. “Daddy has icky warts-- EEK!” Reaching under the cape, Bakugou pulled his little three-year-old daughter out into the open, beginning to tickle her mercilessly. Smiling as you watched your daughter squeal and struggle, you decided to close your book, beginning to feel like you were missing out on all the action. 

Standing, you made your way over to the bed, laying down beside your son, who was quick to snuggle up against you with a heavy yawn. Stroking his fluffy blonde hair softly, you gave him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “Looks like someone’s finally getting sleepy. It is past your bedtime.” 

“Is not, Mama!” Your son pouted up at you, his brilliant crimson gaze melting your heart. “It’s our free day, we get to stay up as late as we want.” 

“Who made up that rule?” 

“Daddy did, Daddy did!” Your gaze was pulled up towards Bakugou as he came to stand beside the bed, holding your daughter upside down by the legs as she giggled and laughed hysterically. “Daddy said! No bedtime!” 

“Ouch, you little squirts, tattling on me like that. I only said that because I have to leave for a while starting tomorrow. It’s not a permanent thing.” He tossed the little girl on the bed before crawling onto it himself, laying down on his side to face you. Within an instant, your daughter was between you, snuggling herself between her brother and father. 

“Yeah, and I’m a big boy anyway, I get to--” another large yawn interrupted your son’s proclamation, followed by a sluggish rubbing of his eyes. “-- I get to decide.” 

“Then what is it you proclaim, my little prince?” Continuing to stroke his hair softly, you wished for a moment that you could just keep them this size forever. They were still so small and innocent, sweet and loving in a way that you knew wouldn’t last their entire lifetime. These two little babies had big shoes to fill as the heirs to this land, and though they still had a lot of growing up to do, you knew that time would go by in the blink of an eye. So, you cherished it while you could, locking away moments like this in your mind forever. 

“I’ll decide… tomorrow…” And with that, the small boy was out cold, snuggled against your body as close as he could get. With a scoff, his sister fought against her own sleepiness, fiddling with the necklaces that rested around her father’s neck. 

“He can’t ever stay up! I’m going to be up all night! I don’t want to miss Daddy!” 

“I won’t leave without telling you goodbye, squirt. You know that.” Bakugou placed a kiss on the top of her head, rubbing his thumb up along her forearm. The little girl gave quite the dramatic sigh, closing her eyes. 

“Why do you have to go anyway? Send Uncle Kiri instead. Daddy stay here…” 

“I wish I could, babygirl. You know it’s my job.” 

“Because you’re the king?” 

Bakugou carefully moved some of her hair out of her face, taking a quick moment to glance up to you. Of course, you had been watching silently the entire conversation, a soft smile plastered to your lips. Bakugou was not a gentle man in any sense, nor was he particularly kind and thoughtful. At least, not to the entire world. But to you and his children, his family, he was something completely different. His gentle side, so tender and affectionate, was something that only you and your children would ever get to see. How much he cared for you all was incredibly heartwarming, making you blush from your head to your toes, and just like your daughter, you dreaded the fact that he was going to leave you for a while. 

You couldn’t resist a soft giggle as his face flushed, obviously having not expected you to be watching him. Giving a small cough to clear his throat, Bakugou nodded, speaking softly as the little girl was already drifting off. “That’s right, princess. I have to make sure everything is perfect for you, when you’re all grown up. You and your brother.” 

“You think the land trade negotiations will go well?” 

Bakugou turned his gaze back up to you, giving a small nod. “Yeah… I haven’t noticed any hostility during communications, but I’m still taking a decently large group with me. It’ll be fine.” Carefully, Bakugou scooped up his daughter's tiny form and moved her behind him, before doing the same with his son behind you. No longer separated by your children, you were able to close the distance between you and your lover, snuggling in close to him with a happy sigh. 

“It will be fine. And you’ll come home to us.” Nuzzling your nose against his affectionately, you smiled at the blush that raged his cheeks from the cutesy action. “My Katsuki…” 

With a huff as he grew embarrassed, Bakugou hugged you tightly to him, pressing his lips against yours in a firm kiss. Though, it was quick to soften, each brushing your lips becoming all the more tender and loving. It made your heart race and your skin tingle, his warmth spreading through every inch of your body. You loved him so fiercely, in a way that you could never put into words and seeing him interact with your children only made that love more intense. 

But there was one thing that was brought upon you with this feeling, which made you feel conflicted and nervous. For weeks now, your ‘baby fever’ was only growing stronger, and it was further fueled by the interactions he had with your two current babies. You adored your little family, and you wished to see it grow, but discussing how many children you would have hadn’t yet come up in your marriage. The current two had been planned in most ways, with Bakugou always agreeing with you once the topic came up. You had never been happier than now, being his wife and a mother, and you greatly craved the feeling of a tiny body in your arms again or Bakugou’s hands softly caressing your swollen belly. 

It was a scary topic for you, though. You knew that you’d be totally devastated if he said no, and that rejection would be hard to deal with. Since the start of your itching to become pregnant again, you had kept totally silent, waiting for any hint from him that he would want another. There hadn’t been any, and what he had said earlier really put a hole in your courage. 

“I have to make sure everything is perfect for you, when you’re all grown up. You and your brother.”

Becoming a bit emotional as your feelings began to run free, you couldn’t stop a small hitching of your breath as you tried to reign them back in, and of course, Bakugou noticed. Frowning, Bakugou kept his forehead pressed against yours, his thumb softly stroking your flushed cheek. “Are you alright?”

Sniffling, you blinked away the peaking tears as you gave a small nod, only able to risk small glances up into his crimson gaze. “I’m okay. Just… thinking.” 

“About? Are you that nervous about me leaving? We can arrange for someone to watch the children if you want to come--” 

“--No, no, Katsuki, that’s not it. I’m happy to stay with them, it’ll be easier, since you’ll be gone for nearly two months. No, I… It’s something else.” 

“C’mon… I can’t leave knowing something’s bothering you.” 

After a moment of silence and looking into his worried gaze, you gave a small nod, releasing a nervous, trembling breath. “Katsuki… I… I want to have another baby. But we never really talked about how many children you wanted to have… You seem so happy with just the two, I was nervous about bringing it up.” As you spoke, you had to look away from him, not wanting to see his expression change. 

“Are you serious?” 

Feeling your stomach clench, you immediately took his tone as negative, cowering down into yourself a bit as your eyes began to tear up. “I’m sorry, I should have just kept it to myself--” Suddenly, you were pulled into a kiss, his strong arms around your torso squeezing you in close. As the tears escaped you, there was no other option but to give into him, his embrace and kisses lifting your spirits and giving you hope. His words, however, only heightened your joy, and you still couldn’t stop the tears. 

“Babe, having a family with you has been the best thing in my life. Also, considering that we’re probably going to live a long ass time, given that we are both of dragon kin, there’s nothing wrong with poppin’ out a few more-” 

“-Katsuki, don’t say it like that-!” 

“-It’s true!” Bakugou smirked against your lips, successful in his obvious attempt to make you laugh as you couldn’t resist giggling against the urge to hiccup with your tears. “You haven’t seen it, they just fly out, like pop.” The popping sound he made with his mouth made you nearly lose it, having to shove your face into his chest so you could laugh without waking the children. 

“That’s gross!” 

“It is. But it’s also the most amazing damn thing. Seeing you with our children makes me so fucking happy. So long as you want them, as long as your body can have them, then we can make more babies. The process isn’t all that bad, either For me, at least.” Using only slight pressure to get your head back up out of his chest, he kissed your lips playfully, over and over again against your hiccups and muffled giggles. “Maybe we should cap out at twenty, though.” 

“Twenty?! No, no, my love, that’s too many.” 

“Mm… We’ll see.” His kisses became softer, running his fingers through your hair. “You’re a great mother. A perfect woman… My beautiful wife. I’ll give you as many babies as you want.” 

Humming happily with his affection, you wiggled yourself in closer, feeling absolutely filled to the brim with his love. And though you didn’t want to, the kisses came to an end as your daughter sniffled in sleepy frustration, sitting up and leaning against Bakugou’s back. “Daddy, you’re moving too much!” 

Chuckling, Bakugou released you, rolling over on his back to allow the tiny girl to curl up on his chest. “I’m sorry, babygirl. Go back to sleep.” The instant the little girl was out, Bakugou sat up, holding her carefully. You did the same with your son, who was out like a light and limp as a noodle. 

“I think it’s time to take them to bed?” You leaned up to kiss Bakugou’s cheek softly, gaining another on the lips in return. “So I can get you all to myself…” 

“What is it you plan on doing to me, hm?” 

“I want at least one night of baby making before you leave. Maybe it’ll be the lucky night.” 

“I’ll do my best to make sure it is.”

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 10

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 1856

Author’s Note: Had some extra time today, so I figured I’d go ahead and post. We’ve reached the end, folks. Thank you to everyone for reading, reblogging, liking, and especially all the lovely comments. A million thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​ , and @cracksinthewalls​ for helping my story shine. @thoughtslikeaminefield​ , thank you for the lovely image for the story. I hope everyone enjoyed it all as much as I do. 

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 10

“Sam looks really irritated,” Kimber whispers to Dean. The younger Winchester brother has just excused himself to the restroom, but the diner is pretty quiet, and she doesn’t want to risk Sam overhearing.

“Well, yeah,” Dean says, raising his coffee to take a deep, life-affirming slurp. He doesn’t bother to lower his tone or modulate his pitch in the slightest, and Kimber shoots him an exasperated look. “I stuck him with clean-up duty last night so I could get lucky. Not to mention, our room was the only free one at the motel, remember, so he either slept there or in his car. He’s not irritated, he’s pissed as hell and probably a little jealous.”

“But you didn’t get lucky last night,” Kimber says. 

“Went home with my high school sweetheart, got to see her unmentionables, and spent the whole night in bed with her after eating semi-homemade apple pie. I’d say I got pretty damned lucky.”

She sends an elbow his way, but he’s expecting it and leans back so she overshoots and lands across his lap. She splutters indignantly as she rights herself while he takes another calm drink of his coffee. 

“Seriously, though, he’s not pissed at you. The first few months after we left, the kid wouldn’t shut up about you. He practically worshipped you: hot, nerdy as hell, the whole package. And,” he adds, his teasing expression mellowing to one of genuine appreciation, “you really helped him out with that AP stuff. He got into Stanford because of you.”

“Shut up,” she says, her face heating. “He got into Stanford? That was him, and you know it. I just gave him some resources he didn’t know about, that’s all.”

“And I was able to keep up with all my AP classes no matter where we moved, which was a huge deal to me,” Sam says as he slides into the booth across from them. “You guys talking about me behind my back?”

 “Always,” Dean smirks. “So, what’d you find out?”

“Does the name ‘Jim Weeks’ mean anything to you, Kimber?” 

She frowns, setting her fork down on the edge of her plate. “It does. I helped him out, god, what...eight, nine years ago? He hadn’t been hunting very long, maybe a year or two, and he was investigating some...Let me think, hang on.” She closes her eyes, mentally shifting through years of research, both hers and others’.

“Human sacrifices. There was a symbol carved into all the victims. I helped him find the source, the deity it stood for. It was one of my closed cases; that’s why I didn’t bring it up. He called me a few weeks later, said he’d taken care of everything.”

“Well, he was wrong,” Sam says, his face grave. “I found his journal in the witch’s car. Jim documented you helping him, what you found, where you worked, and then how the case wrapped up. You actually helped him take down en entire coven of witches, guess he didn’t mention that part. Then he went on hunting for another seven and a half years, but a few months ago, he started to write about feeling like someone was watching him, tailing him from case to case.”

Sam pauses, giving her a moment to take in this new information, then he continues.

“Said he was starting to have periods of time where he didn’t remember stuff, would wake up in the middle of the road, in the middle of the woods. He wrote about finding a doll in his car one morning; it, uh..looked like him. Throat was slit, red paint, all of it.” 

Sam clears his throat, flexing his fingers on the table top as he watches her carefully. Dean’s hand closes over hers under the table, and she realizes her fingers are shaking.

“Go on,” she says. She doesn’t want to hear what’s coming next, she really already knows, but she needs to hear it.

“The entries in his journal stop after that. The cover was soaked in dried blood. So...yeah. I did some checking, and Jim died a few months back. The scene was...nasty.”

“So, who was our nutbag?” Dean asks. His tone is rough as he squeezes Kimber’s fingers. 

“I looked into the county records where Jim took down the coven. I don’t think he did too much research into the actual witches themselves; the coven included a family, a mom and dad and a teenager. Jim thought he got the whole coven, but maybe the teenager wasn’t at that meeting? At any rate, the papers from around then talked about the murdered couple’s missing child, and then the kid just dropped out of mention.”

“Okay, Jim was sloppy, and the kid survived, and what...swore revenge? How’d he find Jim again?”

“I found these folded up in the front of the journal,” Sam says, smoothing a couple of newspaper articles out on the table. The edges are frayed and ragged, torn rather than cut. There are dark smears on both, smudges and stains from who knows what, and Kimber’s gorge rises higher the longer she stares down at them.

The first article dates back to the first investigation, showing a grainy photograph of police and federal officers milling around behind crime scene tape. Kimber points to a figure off to the side, suited and facing the camera almost straight on.

“That’s Jim,” she says, her voice quiet. He looks painfully young in the photograph, and her chest twinges. The caption labels him as “FBI Special Agent Gaiman.” 

She looks at the second article, which is much more recent. She notices immediately that the location is the same, the premise almost identical. “Town’s Dark Past Resurfaces After Nearly a Decade” reads the headline. She looks for Jim’s face, spotting it in the crowd once more, despite him aging considerably in the years since she met him.

“He used the same name again,” Dean says, shaking his head. “I mean, he didn’t have much choice, since it was probably the same cops on the case, but still. Probably how the witch found him. Might’ve started up the sacrifices again just to draw Jim out. Anything else in the car, Sam?”

Sam shakes his head, his mouth working as if he’s got a bad taste in his mouth. “More or less standard witch paraphernalia, a couple more knives. I didn’t see anything indicating we have anyone else to watch out for.”

Dean purses his lips, then looks to Kimber. “You doin’ okay?”

Kimber takes the question seriously, doing a quick bit of mental introspection. “Yeah, I think...I mean...Okay, so I’m still queasy, but I don’t feel like someone’s breathing down my neck anymore. I’m going to be jumpy for a while, and I am definitely not going to stop going to my Thursday night classes anytime soon. But, yeah. If I’m not completely okay at the moment, I know I’m going to be.”

“That’s my girl.” Dean leans over, pressing a kiss to Kimber’s cheek. Sam looks away, but not before Kimber catches the embarrassed smile on his face. Dean slides from the booth, strolling casually over to the register and grinning at the elderly waitress, who blushes and giggles as she takes the check from him.

“Dad wouldn’t let him call you,” Sam says quietly. Kimber’s eyes flash to Sam, startled.

“When we left. Dean wanted to. He tried to, but Dad said he couldn’t. Said you were a distraction we couldn’t afford. He absolutely forbade it. They got in a fight, the worst one I ever saw between them when we were kids, and Dad...he...well, he, uh...He put his foot down. And later, after Dad died...I think Dean was ashamed. Maybe. I dunno, but I think he didn’t feel like he could call you after all that time, felt like he’d let you down.”

Sam glances over his shoulder, and they both watch Dean lean down to whisper conspiratorially with the blushing waitress as he hands her his credit card. Dean turns back to Kimber, winking, and her last little bit of heartache flakes off and fades away.

“Maybe don’t hold it against him too much?” Sam says, his best puppy-dog face in place. Kimber has never seen such an earnest expression from a guy asking on behalf of another man before.

“So, what do we have on the docket, Sam?” Dean asks as he rejoins them. Kimber throws her arms around his neck, ignoring the twinge twinge of pain on the side of her throat, and kisses him soundly. He looks startled but pleased as she pulls away, eyes wide and cheeks ruddy. 

“What was that for? I’m just askin’ so I can do it again.”

She clears her throat against an unexpected lump. Behind Sam, the waitress at the register gives her a double thumbs up. “I was just jealous of the attention you were giving the wait staff. Figured you thought I wasn’t paying you enough attention.”

Sam coughs discreetly, his mouth twitching from the effort of smothering his smile. “I actually don’t have any cases for us. I was thinking about going back to the bunker and reorganizing some of those files I‘ve been going through. You know, I could really use your help, Dean. Our inventories could use some alphabetizing, and-”

“Hard pass,” Dean says, flashing his brother a quick, mirthless smile. 

“If you’re looking for something to do,” Kimber offers, then hesitates when Dean turns his focus to her. “Well, I mean...fall break is next week. There’s a harvest festival in town; we have a crafts fair and a big farmers market and a lot of baking competitions. It’s pretty fun. If...if you wanted to stay a little while, Dean.”

...

In the end, Dean stays nearly two weeks. They go to every single day of the festival, during which time, they pick out a new quilt for her bed and Dean makes himself actually sick at the pie tasting event. When he does finally leave, it’s with a promise to visit soon, and their phone numbers saved in each of their cells.

“I will say, I’m not overly fond of watching this car drive off,” Kimber says, hugging herself through the inadequate material of her sweater. The weather has turned genuinely cold, and she wishes she’d grabbed something heavier, but she hadn’t planned on staying outside for so long. 

For some reason, though, she just can’t let go of him long enough for him to get into the car.

Dean rubs his hands briskly up and down her arms, his eyes sad and fond as they roam over her face. Before she can stop him, he pulls off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders and kissing her forehead.

“You look damned cute in my jacket,” he says gruffly. “One more for the road?”

And if her lips are still swollen and throbbing when he puts the car into gear and pulls away from the curb, if his hair looks like he came straight from bed, neither of them minds in the least.

…

The end.

[fizzingwizard]

Digimon Adventure: Ep 19!

Wow! That certainly was an Episode!! It was pretty fun from start to finish, though nothing mind-blowing, but it was definitely the ending that made me gasp. Not wholly unexpected to an old turnip like me, but promising lots of fun (and angst!).

Picture of the week: MIKO, THE TRUE STAR OF THE SERIES!!

no for serious are the writers reading my reviews? they keep giving me what I want. within reason I guess. They seem to have an extremely limited budget as usual x’D

but Miko is still adorbs

ok I’m really looking forward to recapping this one so let’s get to it!

So last week I thought the kids sans Taichi and Yamato were abducted by Devimon, but apparently that either isn’t the case, or it was, but then Devimon decided it’s best just to dump the kids back on Earth and hold on to their partners. Because that’s the current situation. While concerning that the kids are separated from their partners, it’s probably best this way, since Devimon appears to be sending Gesomon(?) and Parrotmon(?)

to the human world, if I remember right. It’s hard to remember what happened in the first fifteen seconds kay So when the kids find their partners it will probably be in the human world and they can fight back.

Meanwhile Taichi and Yamato are alone and very Confuse

Taichi tries frantically to contact Koushirou. The others too... but especially Koushirou.

Finally he gets him!! He’s so happy!! My Taishiro heart flutters!

But I was fully expecting it to be a trap. When I saw this still here, my first thought was “Devimon’s forcing him to tell Taichi a lie by threatening him with a gun!!”

of course thats not whats happening. Koushirou is relatively fine and there are no guns (yet). What’s happened is the other kids have been sent back to the human world for reals this time!

This show is not even bothering to hide its Taiyama angle.

They spend the entire episode giving each other Significant Looks like this. The entire episode.

Now where’s Jou through all of this, you ask?

He went to talk to the police. He’s shocked they don’t believe his story about monster attacks and the world ending (well, at least Tokyo ending). I freaking love how taaaaall Jou is. Though it makes Koushirou look like a bean x’D

Jou = beansprout / Koushirou = bean

Koushirou has a much easier time dealing with the news that the police don’t believe them. He’s a denizen of the Internet. He knows how people’s minds work. And he has tons of chat logs to prove it.

People are chatting and spreading gossip and disbelief and complaints, but my favorite is the comment that just says “It’s a flood of fake news” xP

The home team runs into Mama Yagami! Who Sora literally calls Mama Yagami! x’D I mean I know that’s how kids generally refer to their friends’ parents but I still lol’d.

So un... Jou is almost as tall as Mama Yagami. LMAO. I’m gonna assume she’s short. Jou might indeed be quite tall for his age but Sora and Mimi are pretty close to Mama Yagami’s height too. I guess we haven’t seen Taichi standing next to his mom yet! With his hair he’s probably taller than her.

So Mama Yagami is HILARIOUS and I’m so glad that’s a continuing thing in the reboot! She was already that way in 99 Adventure, but we’re just seeing a lot of it now - like every time she’s around. (And we didn’t see it in Tri so I missed that.) Basically she seems like a basketcase. Not a totally irresponsible one, more like just... generally the carefree go with the flow type. Which is not bad. She just also seems a bit, uh, ditzy?? I think Taichi probably grew to be so serious by necessity. Dad’s busy with work and someone’s gotta make sure mom doesn’t leave the house without her keys!

The way Sora just stares at Hikari like “explain??” after Mama Yagami thrusts Miko at her and runs off to get her car with a big smile as if they hadn’t all nearly died recently... bahahaha.

also I love how she doesn’t even bother asking her son’s good friend if she knows where he is after not seeing or hearing from him for three full days

^The face of a boy shouldering the weight of nuclear family life and all its batshitness

Taichi and Yamato determine their priority is find the Holy Digimon. I wish they were a little more concerned with what happened to their friends’ partners, but I guess this is the only goal with solid clues. Anyway before they can do anything they are attacked by Bulbmon Looks like subtitlers went with Valvemon which also works, who looks like a Lego monster creation by an eight year old (and probably is).

He has the Domo face. Grrraaah

Domo is NHK mascot by the way. bahahaha

Next these guys come swarming out of Valvemon. (And if we didn’t already get it, apparently Digimon can construct other Digimon as we’ve seen before.) Nothing is quite as freaky as gas masks. They are commanded by Minotaurmon/Mintaromon whatever.

They too have the aim of Stormtroopers though so our heroes will be fine...

... probably...

... then Leomon finally shows up!! Yay! He looks good! All beefy and scarred and sounding exactly like Zaraki Kenpachi. Uhh. Is it the same VA?? Nothing comes up in the Google search so maybe not but it sure sounds like him. (Minotaurmon and Ogremon also sound like Leomon... while it’s normal for VAs in kids shows to voice multiple characters esp minor ones, it literally sounds like Zaraki Kenpachi is the voice of all the characters in this episode besides the main ones. And Mama Yagami of course because that would be weird.)

Leomon may look cool, but his ride... and his friends... uh, less cool x’D I want to strangle that ostrich thing with its own scarf somehow it inspires violent emotion in me

In the smallest, most shocked voice, Yamato says, “Leomon...?” It’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s clearly remembering what Neemon said about Leomon leading the resistance way back when.

Leomon helps them escape. Taichi very considerately and cutely helps Agumon aboard the fashion disaster ostrich emu thing.

Yamato also considerately helps his partner but rather less cutely xD

Leomon takes them to his hideout and gives them your standard fare of weird-looking Digi fruit. He then proceeds to tell them about Devimon and that he is trying to infiltrate Valvemon yadda yadda.

Taichi is freaking ADORABLE, immediately concerned that by saving their asses, Leomon’s battle plans have been ruined. Leomon waves that aside though. Yamato is equally adorabibble when he asks after Neemon and gets told that they made it to Leomon safely.

Leomon plans to try to get into Valvemon again because he knows Devimon’s put something related to the holy Digimon in there. Taichi is determined to join in. He doesn’t have much of an argument as it why they should be allowed when they just got their butts kicked so easily, but he has a trick up his sleeve: the Burning Eyes of Fiery Passion.

Not to be outdone, Yamato shoots off his Icy Eyes of Cold Determination.

Faced with this twin assault, Leomon has to give in. Ahh, I remember last week when we saw the trailer for this ep and I naively thought Leomon would train them like Piximon did in 99 Adventure. Nope. They’ve just met and they’re already spy buddies.

Okay, okay, yeah Leomon does seem to have some knowledge of the “Chosen Children” and that’s his real motivation. Still.

They break into Valvemon and we get the excellent invention of Agumon riding on Garurumon. I assume because of Garurumon’s advantageous speed. That seems to be recurring thing in this show.

Idk I just capped this because he’s so darn cute

I don’t know why I capped this one though.

They enter some sort of central space where Leomon tells them something relevant to the holy Digimon is being kept. (Lol I already forgot the details of what he said.) There are two protectors, Minotaurmon and Bullmon. Leomon tells the kids to take Bullmon while he faces down Minotaurmon. These guys might have been somewhat intimidating if we hadn’t already got Perfect level evolutions mastered, not to mention the occasional Jogress :P Sooo I didn’t feel too worried.

... uh, never mind x’D Taichi what are you doing

Yamato saves his idiot butt and almost gets in a bind himself. Once again I’m just wondering why they are sticking at Adult level. Whatever. They win of course

Leomon uses his Fist of the Beast King to maim Minotaurmon. His brilliant one-liner? “I have more than one first.”

Bully: *punches you*

You: ow

Bully: *smirk* I have more than one fist.

You: That’s funny, I only have one, but it’s made of titanium *You punch the bully straight through the stratosphere* Quality over quantity!!!!

*cough*

Our heroes approach the secret compartment supposedly holding something to do with the holy Digimon... Yamato gets a look inside and gets the black shadow of true terror over his eyes

becaue floating inside like some kind of Weapon X experiment is... Takeru!!!

Hold on while I put in my ear plugs. Okay, ready, screech all you want now.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

So... okay. First of all, baby Takeru is sooooooo cute <3 I had two predictions about what happened to Takeru last week. Either he ended up in the digital world and was now on his own, or he got abducted by Devimon. I thought the former was more likely, but in hindsight, it should have been obvious that it was the second. This show misses a lot of points where I feel like they could have developed some relationships or thrown in some drama, but it never passes up a chance for Yamato angst.

So yeah, this is pretty much gonna destroy Yamato xD Not only is the baby brother he wanted to protect no longer at home where he can easily protect him, he’s now in the digital world and in the enemy’s clutches.

I BETTER SEE REALLY TRAUMATIZED YAMATO NEXT WEEK. Of course, I expect him to be cool-headed enough to try to save Takeru, but I will be very disappoint if this goes off with no break downs at all. Takeru is always Yamato’s number one priority!

Super exciteddddd

So I give this ep 7.5/10. The .5 is pretty much for ending with a killer cliffhanger. My one real complaint about this ep is how highly plot-based everything is - we finally got the team all together only to split them up, and on top of that, once split up, we don’t even get all that many character moments between Taichi and Yamato. As I said, they give each other lots of Signifcant Looks, but man cannot live on bread alone. However this is par for the course for this show and I know I should stop mentioning it every week because I doubt it’s changing. We will get the big shockers when we get them and not a moment before.

I just want Yamato to cry in front of Taichi and make him all uncomfortable x’D That’s what made 99 Adventure so great bahahaha

Some cool bits from next week’s trailer:

Surprise surprise, Angemon is the holy Digimon! Or one of, anyway. And he is indeed trapped. This makes the “Angemon is Devimon” theory less likely. Let’s not forget that our heroes’ Digimon partners were evidently a band of powerful warriors in the past, but they’ve forgotten much of it. I won’t be surprised if the result of that war played a part in Angemon’s abduction.

Next week they’ll have to fight to save Takeru from being drained, I guess.

And then!! Digi egg! Excite. Also I only just noticed that his hate says TK!!!

Takeruuu <3 My first fav when I was 10. Though my heart has belonged to Taichi for many long years, I still have a special spot in it for Takeru only <3 Even if he does dress like a celery stick

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 10

A/N: Thank you for your patience. There is no smut this chapter. That will be the next Before chapter. I liked ending it on a cute note between Addy and Monty. Feedback is appreciated. 

Keeping my relationship with Montgomery was easier and more thrilling than I expected it to be. There were stolen kisses in alcoves, a seemingly endless string of text messages, dates disguised as studying, and a few more sleepovers than anticipated. My friends and family had yet to pick up on anything and we were going on a month and a half of dating. I wonder how long we can keep this up. Surely it won’t be much longer.

An unseasonably chilly Monday morning in early November, I woke up before my alarm and snuggled under the covers. I had just fallen asleep again when my alarm went off. Groaning, I sat up and crawled out of bed. I breezed through my morning routine and threw on a black knitted sweater with a pair of dark wash ripped jeans. I grabbed a t-shirt to throw in my bag in case it got hot without looking. My hair was thrown up into a messy, yet styled bun and my current daily makeup was applied.

My parents were enjoying their morning coffees at the island when I came downstairs. Noticing me, my mom sat up straighter and dad cleared his throat. Uh oh. “Morning.” I greeted, timidly.

“Morning sweetie.”

“Morning.”

“What’s going on?”

“Your father and I were just talking about this weekend.”

“Alright? Why did you clam up as soon as I walked into the room?”

“You know I have that conference in Chicago this weekend.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been on the calendar for months. What’s the big deal?” I asked, as I made my way around the kitchen getting my breakfast ready.

“I found out this morning that Dave has a family thing this weekend, so I have to go to Scottsdale in his place.” “Okay. You’ll both be out of town at the same time. What’s the big deal?”

“No need for tone Addison.” My dad scolded. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“It’s not a big deal at all Addy. It is just short notice is all.” Mom added.

“The usual rules apply, you know. No crazy parties. Only Justin is allowed over and he sleeps in the guestroom.”

“I assumed.” I nodded and looked at the clock on the wall. Finishing the last of my breakfast, I gathered my books, threw the shirt in my bag, and grabbed my car keys. “I’ll be home later than usual. I have an assignment to work on after school.”

“We will leave some dinner out for you. Have a good day at school.”

“Mhmm. Of course you will.” Dad muttered, checking his phone for the probably millionth time since he got up.

When I got to school, there was a strange buzz in the air. People were whispering amongst themselves. That in and of itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the way they died down when certain people-mainly girls-passed, was a dead giveaway. Nothing changed when I walked past which was fine by me. “Before you say anything, it wasn’t me.” Justin said as he slid next to me at my locker. I sighed.

“What wasn’t you?” I grumbled. I was still annoyed with him for the photo of Hannah that got sent around.

“The list.” He stated, shrugging, as though I would know what that meant. “And I know you’re still mad at me but Addy please. You know I wouldn’t send something like that around. You know how Bryce is.”

“I know. But you also didn’t do anything to stop it. What list?”

“I said I was sorry.”

I sighed heavily. “If I decide to let it go, will you tell me what the hell you are talking about?”

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly.

“Fine. I forgive you or let it go or whatever. Now what?”

“There’s this list going around. You aren’t on it but it like… rates girls.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, why the tone of surprise? We go to Liberty High.”

I shrugged, knowing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “I’m not. It doesn’t make it okay though. Do you know who made it?”

“Rumour has it, it was Standall.” I shook my head in disbelief and closed my locker. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I smiled slightly, even though I was still horrified at the situation.

As stupid as the list is you’d still top mine.

That list is deplorable Montgomery.

Deplorable, huh? New vocab words?.

Yeah. I gotta head to class. Text you during break.

Sure thing. Everything okay?

Yeah. I’m just tired, no worries.

I locked my phone as we passed Justin’s friends, all clearly pouring over the list. I tried to ignore the slight sting in my chest as I heard Monty join in. I knew he had to play along to keep up appearances with his friends, but it still sucked having to listen to the bragging and hoopla of the group. I must have sighed aloud or something because Justin stopped me a few feet away.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah. It was just a long weekend is all.”

“Did you want to cut and talk? I know you aren’t thrilled with me or anything right now, but I’m still your best friend.”

I paused, thinking for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

We walked to a side exit and made it seem as though we were getting a forgotten book from my car.

After we checked that the coast was clear, I drove to Monet’s for a to go order and continued to our spot by the hiking trails overlooking town.

I took a long sip of my latte and stared out at the skyline. “Dad just frustrates me sometimes.” I stated.

“I know.”

“It’s like I’m only worth paying attention to when he needs something. Any other time, I doubt he would even know if I was there or not. Or if he wants to share his opinion on one of my life choices.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“No. Yes. I guess?” I shrugged. “This weekend mom and I were talking about college and what I would be interested in doing, nothing serious, just talking. And all of the sudden, dad comes in from his office and is all ‘that’s a waste of a degree’ and all this other crap. She tried to get him to let it go but he just wouldn’t hear it. Eventually she gave up to go work on her paper and he just went on and on. I know that it’s not what he imagined for me, but it’s what I want. And its not like we were being super serious about anything. I have time to change my mind still.”

“Well what were you guys saying?” “We were talking about what courses I could take that would be general enough to use for any major should I choose to switch and what courses would be a waste of time. I have two years to decide this stuff Justin. We were just talking and having girl time.”

“Of course he had an issue with that.” He muttered. “What happened after Margot left?”

“I was tired of him yelling at me and so I snapped. I called him out on his bull and told him it was all hypothetical at this point anyway so what does it even matter? He didn’t think it was appropriate to take that kind of tone with him. I told him where he could shove it and slammed my door on him. I ended up staying in my room all day yesterday.”

“Wow. He really needs to… I don’t know what. But whatever it is, he needs to do it.”

“Tell me about it. And then this morning, I found out that they’re both going away on business this weekend because Dave can’t make it, and he was acting like I was going to throw a ragger or something. You know, when he bothered to look up from his phone and acknowledge my existence.”

Justin shook his head. “I’m sorry Addy. It’s not like he would know if I came over and slept in your room though. Keep you company.”

I mulled it over for a while I was going to see if Montgomery wanted to come over. “Nah, I think I’ll be alright. It’s only a couple of days.” I checked my watch and noticed that first period was almost over. “We should get going, I have an assignment due next period.” Justin nodded and we silently gathered our things.

“I really am sorry about what happened with the photos.” Justin finally said as we walked back into school.

“I’m not the one you need to tell that to. But telling her is a decision that is in your hands.”

“I know. It’s just high school though. Not like anything serious will come of it.” He said, brushing the whole ordeal off. I shrugged, not really having an opinion. The bell rang and it just so happened that we were near one of Jessica Davis’ classes. I caught Justin’s eyes wandering her body and I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t even say it, you creep.” I joked, immediately knowing what he was thinking.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything.” He shrugged, giving me that puppy dog look that he is convinced absolves him of all his sins. I shook my head and shoved him playfully. Before I could say anything else, I heard my name being called from up the hall.

Turning, I saw Jeff waving me over. “Addison. Hey, come over here for a minute. We need a girl’s perspective on something, and Leah is busy.” Perplexed, I turned Justin, who shrugged at me. I sighed as we made our way over to the small group of boys, gathered around Jeff’s locker. I nodded politely at Garrison and turned my attention to Jeff. “Yes Jeff?”

“My less… experienced friends here, seem to think that the list going around is just a joke. Something to be laughed at.”

Of course, this is about the damn list. Fucking Standall. I made brief eye contact with Monty and he raised his brow slightly. He looked intrigued. “Right. Well I can assure you that as a woman, if someone I was interested in or seeing, thought it was funny or meaningless, there would be much more talking and consideration on my part before any more… experience… were to occur.” I explained, choosing my words carefully. I watched discreetly as my words sank in and Monty’s face pinched ever so slightly.

“See? What did I tell you? Girls care about these things. Now why don’t you all run along and try to be decent human beings for another hour until lunch.” Jeff laughed.

“Ugh. I need to run. Don’t want my English assignment to be late. Later Justin. See you Jeff. Boys.”

Walking to lunch as I read a not school related novel, I was shocked when a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into an empty classroom. I let out a quiet shriek reflexively. “Relax, it’s just me.” Monty said, letting me go.

I took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around me. “Hey.” I sighed against his chest.

“Missed seeing you this morning.”

“Me too. I had some stuff to do before school.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with the list? I thought you and Alex were friends.”

“No, it didn’t. And we aren’t friends necessarily. More like acquaintances. After this little stunt, I’m not sure I want to be friends with him.”

“That’s totally up to you Addison. How was your weekend?” Do I want to talk to him about it? Not really. At least not now.

“It was okay. Yours?”

“It was alright. Spent the weekend with Bryce.”

“Sounds like fun.” I murmured.

“His parents are in Cuba or Mexico or something.”

“Lovely.” Good for them. “That reminds me, my parents are both going to be out of town this weekend for work stuff. You can come over if you want?”

I looked up at him, watching him organize his schedule in his mind. “I’ll have to double check but I think I can come over after the game Friday.”

“Sounds good. Just let me know before Friday.” I gave him a hug and my phone vibrated in my front pocket.

“Damn Addy, what are you packing today? And why didn’t you lead with that when you asked about this weekend?” He joked, smirking jovially.

“It’s my phone you fiend.” I smirked back, rolling my eyes. I left the response in reference to this weekend open ended. You never know what might happen.

Checking my phone, I glanced at my texts. It was from Justin. Did you get locked in the bathroom or something? Where are you? “Shit, Justin wants to know where I am. I’ll see you in chem.” Had to ask Mr. David a question about this week’s reading and we got talking. I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t worry about saving me a seat, I need to talk some sense into Alex before he digs himself into a deeper hole.

Fair.

I walked up to Alex determined to give him a piece of my mind. I cleared my throat and he looked around, cutting Bryce off. “Addy. Hey, what’s up?” He asked nonchalantly. I arched my brow, hoping to convey my displeasure. You’re dealing with a boy here. Justin was watching me from his seat at the table. When we made eye contact, he seemed unsure if he should be standing up to stop this or if he should sit back and watch the show. I glanced towards the cafeteria door when Monty walked in, waltzing to his usual seat at the table. I felt myself becoming ballzier as the boy’s attention was caught.

“That was a really shitty thing to do Alex.”

“What was?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. The list.”

“You care enough to talk to me about it?”

“Awe, is the little bookworm upset she wasn’t included?” Bryce mocked. Justin’s head twitched towards him quickly, readying himself to step in.

“Shut the fuck up Walker. I’m not in the mood for your sexist bullshit today.” His and Alex’s eyes widened at my response, not used to me speaking my mind like that. “I’m not friends with Jessica or Hannah, but that doesn’t matter. And there were other girls on it. Comparing girls is a fucked up thing to do. I get you’re upset or whatever because of whatever happened between the three of you, but that kind of thing can ruin people’s lives.”

“It’s just a list Addison. It was for fun.”

“This time it was. It’s only fun until someone gets hurt. For your sake, I sincerely hope no one does.” Having said my piece, I turned and walked away. I noticed Tony Padilla watching the ordeal unfold with his boyfriend, Ryan Shaver. Nodding to them, I scanned the room for a place to sit. My eyes skipped over Hannah sitting by herself at the end of a table. They landed on Jeff sitting with Leah and Clay. I walked up to them and waved to sit.

“Hey Addy.” Clay greeted. I took the proffered seat and pulled out my chemistry textbook.

“Hey Clay. How goes the tutoring?”

“It goes.” Jeff responded.

“He’s more interested in Clay’s love life than the material.” Leah added.

“I see. Love life? What does the love life of Clay Jensen look like?”

“Hannah Baker.” Jeff smirked.

My eyebrows raised, impressed. “Justin says she’s sweet.”

“Justin is an ass.”

“He’s my best friend. And he’s not an ass. He’s just… selective about who he likes.”

“Addy, that’s polite for ‘he’s an ass’.” Clay responded, turning his attention back to Jeff. “Focus Jeff….” I tuned out the educational bits of what they were talking about, instead focusing on my own schoolwork. Justin texted me, breaking my concentration.

Bryce says you need to stop hurting his feelings.

Well tell Bryce and his tiny dick… I mean ego, he can grow up and if he didn’t say stupid shit, I wouldn’t have to. I looked up to watch his reaction. He ducked his head and bit his lip to hold back a laugh. Bryce tried to grab his phone to see what I said, but he slid it in his pocket quickly. I caught Monty quirk his brow at me and smiled softly at him. Pulling up his contact, I shot him a quick text. Don’t worry about it.

On my way to chemistry after lunch, I ran to the washroom to change quickly because I was starting to sweat. “Addy.” I vaguely heard a voice call behind me. I wasn’t sure if I was hearing things or not, so I ignored it. “Addison.” The voice called again. Again, I ignored it. “Yo. Hawthorne.” This time, it was much closer. I pulled out an earbud and looked to my left. Montgomery was walking beside me, trying to fall in step.

“Oh hey. Since when do you say ‘yo’ to me?”

“When I call you like four times and you don’t say anything.”

“Sorry, I was listening to a new album. Got a little too into it.” I turned to him again and he was scanning me appraisingly. “Hey. My eyes are up here buddy. Also I’m Justin’s friend so I don’t know what you think is going to come of you looking at me like that.” I chastised, noticing a couple of people stopping to watch us. When they looked away, I smiled at him brightly.

“Well I was thinking something along the lines of those little cookie sandwiches you make Justin all the time.”

I smirked. “Macarons? Try again in three months. Need to make sure you’re worth the effort of those delicious little hell circles.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” We arrived at our chem class and before he walked to his seat, he slipped in one more comment. “Nice shirt by the way.” I thought nothing of it until I was changing into my pyjamas that night. No wonder people were looking. Hopefully we don’t need damage control.

The rest of the week passed with few incidents. Hannah and Jess’ not talking was even more strict now. My dad was preoccupied with getting ready for his trip, so he left me alone for the most part. Monty and I continued as we had been, discussion of Monday and the list set aside for now. He had confirmed plans with me Wednesday night. I heard him confirm to Bryce that he had family coming to town this weekend, so he had to be home. I smirked into my book as I passed them. If Justin noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Friday morning, I was digging through my locker for my biology assignment, which had mysteriously disappeared from its place in my binder, when I felt someone beside me. “I told you Justin, I’m fine by myself this weekend. I’ll probably just watch SVU reruns or something.”

“Not Justin, but SVU doesn’t sound like a bad time.” Monty laughed. I jumped, not expecting him.

“Hi.” I said, still digging through my locker.

“What are you looking for?”

“My biology assignment. It’s due in like fifteen minutes and I can’t find it anywhere.” I heard him rummage through his bag briefly.

“You mean this biology assignment?”

I whipped my head around and frowned at him. In his hand, was my worksheet, slid neatly in a sheet protector. My frown softened and I looked at him questioningly. “Where did you find that?” He held it out to me.

“You left it on your desk in chemistry yesterday, so I grabbed it for you.” In my relief that my assignment wasn’t gone, I hugged him quickly.

“Thank you thank you thank you. You are literally a life saver right now.”

He chuckled before coughing slightly. “School.” He muttered to me.

“Shit yeah. Sorry.” I mumbled as I let go of him. “Justin isn’t making me go to the game, so is it okay if I skip it? I’ll make you congratulations dinner.”

“Sounds fair. What’s for dinner?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Depends what we have in the fridge. Also how do you feel about boardgames?”

“Love them as long as I’m not playing with Scott.”

“Last I checked, I’m not Scott so that’s good. I’ll see you at my place. You can finally have a proper tour of the house and see what it’s like coming in the front door.”

“Looking forward to it.”

After school, I checked what we had in the fridge. “Hmm… leftover lasagna, pork chops, ground something. Six different kinds of cheese.” Next was the pantry, “we have like eight different kinds of noodles. Could do mac and cheese.” Hey babe, how does mac and cheese sound?

That sounds good.

Okay. Good luck tonight. He didn’t respond so I went upstairs to change, after connecting my phone to the Bluetooth in the living room. “Hey Siri, play I Prevail playlist.”

“Okay, playing I Prevail playlist.” Instantly, the heavy sounds of guitar and bass riffs filled my home. I changed into the shirt I wore the other day and a pair of shorts, so I was comfortable for the night.

While dinner was cooking, I gathered a few boardgame options and an extra pillow for Montgomery, humming and singing softly to myself. He knocked on the door around seven. “It’s open.” I called from my place at the stove. He walked in and I could feel his eyes on my body, though I ignored it and the butterflies it caused in my stomach.

“I didn’t think you would like whatever this is. It’s also loud. Hear it outside loud.” He spoke into my ear, causing me to jump, yet again. He needs to stop doing that. I might buy him a bell for his birthday.

“Jeez. Hey Siri, pause music.” The music cut off. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. And there is no other way to listen to this.” I smirked mysteriously.

“Somehow I doubt that but okay Addy.” He kissed my cheek softly and I felt the dampness of his hair against my face.

“Please tell me that isn’t sweat.”

“I showered after the game. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” I caught him reaching out for the lid of the mac and cheese.

“Hot!” I exclaimed, reaching out to stop him. “I took it out of the oven like ten minutes ago and it’s cast iron.” He nodded.

“How’s about that tour?” He asked, patting my butt as he moved to step around me back to the island. I surprised him when my hips followed his hand as he pulled it away. Turning to watch him suck in a sharp breath, I giggled.

“Don’t be getting any ideas there, buddy.” He muttered something under his breath I couldn’t catch. It sounded like something about “innocent” and “has no idea”. Before he could make any further comment, I clapped my hands together. “Tour. Starting here, I guess. This is the main floor.” I spread my arms, expositorily. Taking his hand, I led him back to the front door. “Front closet. Feel free to hang your coat up here or put it on this… lovely… piece of furniture Gran insisted we keep”, indicating towards the brown antique looking catch all bench that matched approximately zero of our other décor. “Lovely. Sure. That’s one word for it.” He chuckled.

“Mum asked Dad if we could keep it in the garage and only bring it back out the once a year Gran comes back stateside. The trouble is, this thing weighs like two hundred pounds because it’s all solid wood. It lives here because we aren’t doing that twice a year. This is the living room. We sit and watch TV here. The La-z-boy is off limits. Dad will know if someone sits in it before he steps in the house.”

“Noted.”

“You’ve seen the kitchen. Nothing too special here, except the fancy coffee machine we use on weekends or when company is here. Justin loves it. Dining room is there, we use it on holidays or when family is in town. And finally, the main floor powder room. Don’t think I need to explain much here. There is extra soap in the bottom drawer of the vanity.”

“Nice.” He smiled, looking around.

“Upstairs?”

“Lead the way m’lady.” I looked at him, my face melting into a confused frown. He shrugged at me.

“I have my own secrets Addy.” I nodded, leading him upstairs. The upstairs consists of a hallway with doors, so it was easy for me to point out the rooms. “Guest bathroom at the end of the hall-extra soap under the sink, same goes for my bathroom, guest room, office, my room, and my parents’ room is at the other end of the hall.” With the tour finished, we went back downstairs for dinner. We ate in comfortable silence, sneaking coy glances at each other.

“Ready to lose at Monopoly?” He asked, looking at the stack of games sitting on the coffee table.

“Ha! You wish.” We quickly set up the game and got comfortable in the living room. I grabbed the blanket off the couch and wrapped myself up in it. When I looked up, Montgomery was looking at me with the softest face I had ever seen him wear. “What?” I blushed.

“You look cozy. It’s cute.” He muttered. I smiled softly and ducked my head to hide my deepening blush.

“Shut up and pick a piece.”

“Ladies first.” I quickly grabbed Scottie Dog. He chose the race car and so began the most intense, hilarious game of Monopoly ever played. There was swearing left and right. We laughed at each other when we got crappy Chance cards. There may also have been some cheating, but we pretended not to notice if we caught it. Monty won unfortunately and I sulked for a minute before grabbing Ticket to Ride Europe. Again, it was intense and close until the final tally. He got longest route for ten extra points, smiling triumphantly to himself. That is, until we counted up cards and I had over a hundred more points. His smile dropped of his face immediately.

“What? How did you do that?” I handed him my cards.

“Many, many small routes I already had.”

“Mhmm.” He squeaked. After a few more games, we decided to call it a night and head up to bed.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #401

“my love is just waiting to turn your tears to roses”

Do you typically do your makeup the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? IF I wear makeup, it's essentially always the same. Who is the last person you were in a room with just the two of you? What were you doing? Yesterday with Mom. We were trying to find the best deal on Eco Earth, a substrate we're getting for Venus. What was the last really good book you read, and what was it about? If we're talking REALLY good book, then The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. In short summary, it's a dystopian future novel where women are now basically just objects used only for repopulation, even having their names stripped from them. They follow very strict rules as society has returned to horrible misogyny. As a woman, the "oh my god, this is possible" aspect of it is terrifying, and it causes such a sense of disgust and urge to ensure women rights always continue to be fought for. Do you feel safe in your country? For the most part, I'd say. I guess. There are places I'd feel safer, though. How many meals do you eat a day? Three. Have you ever performed a solo dance in front of a crowd? No, but I was supposed to my senior year in high school; the seniors at my dance studio were always welcome to do a solo in celebration. Mine was a modern dance to "Coma White" by Marilyn Manson, wanting to tell a story about depression and how being medicated could feel, but I eventually decided like halfway through learning the choreography that I was just too nervous to do a solo. Have you ever sung a solo? No. When you go to McDonalds, what drink do you usually get? Coke. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? No. Do you own a designer purse? Definitely not. I'm not wasting that much money on something like that. What’s the weirdest rumor you’ve ever heard about yourself? Apparently, Jason and I had a baby in high school even though I was obviously never pregnant. To my knowledge, it was started by his ex. Who is now a good friend of mine lmaooo. Life is funny. What was your favorite Saturday morning cartoon growing up? Pokemon, of course. Would you ever have an affair? Nope. Would you ever have a one night stand? Nope. Where you present at any major historical events (e.g. 9/11)? No. What are your opinions on marijuana legalization? Legalize it, but treat it similarly to alcohol in that driving under the influence is illegal and punishable, and I believe you should be of a certain age. How about abortion? I am pro-choice. I was pro-life most of my own life, but now I am very firm about a mother being able to choose if she wants to endure a pregnancy or not. Like, that is a MASSIVE life event that almost inevitably changes - and sometimes traumatizes - people. I do believe a fetus is its own body and not part of the mother's, but rather in the mother's, but the belief that a woman decides what she wants in her body is her choice, too. I'm not very fond of people treating abortion as a simple, regular form of birth control, like it's nothing but an "lol whoops," but I still believe it is ultimately her decision, and she should always be free of judgment for doing what is best for her. Do you wear skirts or dresses more often? Neither. I wouldn't dare wear a skirt more so, though. What do you think about tipping at restaurants? There should always be an expected minimum, imo, unless the person was truly, sincerely, genuinely fucking awful. Waiters do not have an easy job, fight me about it, and they're just trying to survive while putting on a happy, jovial face, all the while dealing with hungry people who can be such assholes. I believe the actual tip should relate to actual service, but again, give them something. Would you ever get back together with any of your exes? One, absolutely. The other would take a shitload of consideration and proper communication on his part. Do you have a preferred coffee brand? No, because I don't like coffee. Do you usually befriend your coworkers, or do you prefer to keep work separate from your personal life? IF I had a job, I'd like to build a friendship with those I have to engage with almost every day. What is something you frequently forget? Dates, ages, names, what I was about to do five seconds before I forgot... Pretty much everything. My memory is frightfully poor. Is there any drama currently going on with your family? No. When you take a nap, do you nap in bed or on the couch? In my bed. Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Both; my parents split when I was somewhere around 17, though, but I'd say there wasn't much more "raising" to do at that age. Have you ever stolen anything? If so, why? No. Have you ever plagiarized someone else's work? Hell no. What's your most-used mode of transportation? My mom's car. Have you ever taught someone else a useful skill? Not to my recollection. Does seeing everyone else's 'perfect lives' posted on social media ever bring you down or affect how you feel about yourself? It actually does, honestly. Not ALWAYS, but if I'm being honest, it does most of the time. I've contemplated deleting Facebook for that reason, but with is also comes things that make me happy, and I think I'd feel even more isolated without it. What is your favorite Hostess/Little Debbie snack? This is SO impossible for me to answer. I loooove Hostess and Little Debbie treats. I want to say honeybuns, but I also love those chocolate cupcakes with the white swirls on top, as well as Twinkies. Very few exist that I don't like. Do you/your family buy loafs from the bakery or bagged on the shelf? We just buy bagged bread. What’s the best news you’ve gotten lately? My APAP mask is definitively WORKING!!!!! :') Mom got an app that connects to the machine via Bluetooth that monitors the effectiveness of the mask, evaluating many factors of your sleep, and it's detecting a definite decrease in disruptive behaviors or something like that. It is so, SO encouraging to know that. ^And, the worst? Hm. Oh, probably some news on something serious a good friend is going through, but I don't feel it's my right to disclose what. It's just a very worrying and potentially dangerous issue that I wish I could help her with. Would you rather receive (or give) flowers, chocolates or jewelry? I'd appreciate any, but my fat ass is drawn to the chocolate, ha ha. What *I* would give would vary depending on what the person liked. How do you feel about coconut? Smells lovely, but is otherwise gross. ^ Ever cracked one open? No, but omg I've always wanted to, haha. What’s the best thing about being your gender? I guess the fact it's more "normal" and "accepted" to show our emotions. Fuck that generalization, though. I don't give a shit what your gender is, you experiencing emotions is NORMAL and welcomed to be expressed. ^ And the worst thing? The ability to be raped and impregnated by it. Do you do your part to save the earth? I don't do nearly enough. :/ We recycle, but that's about it. Well, none of us DARE to litter either, but I still don't feel like it's as much as the earth deserves from its denizens. Who do you think should have their portrait on a bill? I don't know or care. Why did you last feel exhausted? Yesterday was my niece's birthday, and I spent essentially ALL day playing with her and her brother. I have a very limited battery when it comes to kids, and I was running on empty for hours. My anxiety was SO high and I really needed a break from them, but they're too young to really understand that Aunt Britt can only socially run for so long before I'm completely burnt out, and TRUST ME, I was there for sure. I didn't want them to think they did something wrong, you know? I just had to keep going. I slept like a baby last night though for sure, haha. Have you ever used emotional blackmail to get your own way? Wow, no. Has anybody ever used emotional blackmail on you? No. Who did you last worry about and why? Sara for health reasons. Are you currently looking for a new place to live? Not actively, but Mom and I definitely want to move. We feel very out-of-place here in the suburbs. Which would you prefer as a view; mountains or the sea? Mountains. Do you have a mouse for your laptop? (Assuming you have a laptop) Yes. I canNOT play games with a trackpad. Do you apologize a lot? Extremely excessively. When you get married what do you think you’ll put most of your focus and money into? Do you mean like, for the wedding? In that case, probably the venue. Being a photography buff, I want a place I think is really pretty to have pictures taken. What’s something you complain about frequently? My legs hurting, my weight, and being hot. Do you have anything planned for the summer? Nope, and that's fine with me. I'd rather stay inside away from the heat. Who usually makes dinner in your household? My ma. Do you have a blog? Just on Tumblr. Does anyone in your family snore loudly? My mother does because of gerd, and at least when my father still lived with us, he snored super loud, too. Do you want to fix anything with anyone? Yeah, a few people. What shows do you watch? Right now, only Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. Whenever The Edge of Sleep comes out, I will 110% be watching that, too, because Mark is a key actor in it. :') Plus the concept seems super cool. Have you ever broken someone’s heart? I don't know. Who was the last person you had a conversation with on the phone? Me mum. Does the song you’re currently listening to remind you of anyone specific? No, given it has like... one lyric, haha. Do you own any TV show soundtracks? No. Last thing you did that made you feel like an adult? I mean I guess sign myself in at the doctor's. What’s your favorite picture of your mom? Dad? Oh my god, there's a candid one I got of Mom laughing when she was posing as my subject for a photography assignment, and I cherish it with ALL my heart. I want to share it with essentially the whole world, but yeah, I'm not gonna put my mom's picture here. As for my dad, I like this one I took of us at Red Lobster for his birthday a year or two back. Last TV show series you finished? Fullmetal Alchemist with Sara. Favorite flavor of cream cheese? Regular. What US state would you like to visit? Alaska. Last meal you made yourself? I put a chicken pesto thing in the microwave earlier for dinner.

[voidstilesplease]

TW Demigod AU Ficlet [2]: Apologies

parts: [1]

derek

“You look like shit,” Cora announces first thing when Derek enters Cabin 3 as if he doesn’t already know that.

“Thanks,” he replies, walking to an empty bunk to deposit his backpack. He groans as his body is relieved of the weight. That thing is humongous. He turns to his sister, who’s hastily picking up her strewn clothes on the floor. There’s only one reason why Cora would be tidying up the cabin. “Cabin inspection this afternoon?”

Cora shoves dirty socks in a random bag and gives him a dreadful look. “It’s Aphrodite and Demeter today.”

Ah. Well, that explains why Cora’s making an effort to keep items off the floor instead of kicking them under her bed. Aphrodite and Demeter’s cabins give the worst scores along with Athena. They’re very critical and check every nook and cranny. Judging by the cabin’s current condition, Derek figures he’ll be seeing Cora sweeping the stables tomorrow.

“Don’t give me that look, Derek!” Cora hisses, failing miserably at folding her damn blanket.

“What look?”

“That judging look,” she moves over to the seawater fountain and grimaces at what she sees. “You’ve already put the noose around my neck.”

Derek sits in the bed and starts kneading his tight muscles. “Pray to dad it’s canoe lake duty and not the stables. I love the pegasi to death, but they excrete the nastiest shit.”

Cora rewards his sympathy with a scathing look before turning her attention back to the filthy fountain. Derek hears the water bubbling, followed by the sound of flushing. Cora’s in the middle of summoning clean seawater when she speaks.

“I wish Chip could be here sooner,” she moans longingly. “He’s so much better at cleaning.”

Derek perks up. “When’s he coming?”

“Tomorrow morning,”

Derek smiles at the thought. He misses Chip, their cyclops baby brother. Derek admits the news of having a one-eyed monster as a half-brother didn’t sit with him well at the beginning, but it’s impossible not to love Chip. He’s a gentle giant, and many from camp adore him.

“What’s in the bag?” Cora points at Derek’s bulging backpack.

“My clothes,” Derek says, and adds a mumbled, “and a book.”

She’s walking over to him now, seemingly done with the fountain, and raises an eyebrow. “What book?”

“Just some book,” Derek insists.

“Why are you secretive about it?” She snatches the backpack before he can react and rummages through it. Cora slaps his hand away when he tries to stop her invasion. She spots it quickly, though, and pulls out the purple leather tome with difficulty. She gives him an incredulous look. “Why are you carrying around a kiloton of brick in your bag?”

Derek releases a long-suffering sigh and explains. “It’s a Graeco-Romano journal compilation from the library of Camp Jupiter. It’s mostly informative on accounts of early monsters and dealing with them back then.”

An eyebrow quirks up again, “That’s not what I asked, Der.” Derek watches Cora open the leather cover bearing the golden inscription of the Roman camp’s emblematic motto SPQR (Senātus Populusque Rōmānus). “What would you even do with-” she stops mid-sentence, then levels Derek with an annoyed, are-you-kidding-me expression. “There’s nothing in it.”

Derek already knows that, but he still glances at the book and its empty, aged, parchment pages. He purses his lips and says, “There is.”

“All pages are blank,” she says as she skims the book, flipping pages after pages of clean sheets. “This is a blank book, Derek.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re not supposed to see it,” Derek reveals with a sigh. Cora narrows her eyes, waiting for a follow-up explanation. Derek hesitates to offer more information, but Cora is staring him down badly that Derek knows she’ll harass him if it’s what it takes. The back of his neck and his cheeks feel hot when he finally says, “A protective veil put by the Roman goddess Minerva is shrouding it. The journal contains confidential information, and serves as a battle consultation material for Minerva’s acolytes and scholars.”

Cora’s frown deepens. “So only Romans can read from this? What’s it doing here in a Greek camp, then?”

Derek thinks it’s impossible, but now he feels his ears flaming up as well, making him irritated. He didn’t go straight to The Big House because he figured it was only right to stop by to see his sister first, but he’s regretting that decision now.

“The privilege extends to Minerva’s Greek counterpart,” Derek can already feel his sister putting two and two together even before he adds. “And her children.”

Derek hates that he can see the smirk forming in her mouth in his peripheral. She asks, “This is for Stiles?”

He huffs.

Cora laughs. “If this is as confidential as you’re claiming it to be, you must’ve pulled quite the strings to get this,” Derek enslaved himself to the augur and had to oversee the War Games for months on top of his studies, but Cora didn’t need to know. “And you look like shit even though you traveled by water on a hippocampus because you kept awake just to carry this back here safely.”

He glares at Cora. What else can he do? She’s already figured him out, and Derek can only be embarrassed about it.

A broad, bright grin spreads in her face. “For Stiles,”

He growls, daring her to say it.

“Dude,” she shakes her head in delight. She says it. “You are so whipped.”

“It’s a peace offering,” Derek snaps as he takes the book from her and puts it back in the bag. “We didn’t exactly part ways last summer on good terms.”

Cora snorts, crossing her arms. “And whose fault is that?”

Okay, he deserves that, but still. “That’s why I’m apologizing,” he says through gritted teeth.

“For which time, Derek?” Cora stands, walks to her bunk, and glowers at her still unkempt bed. “Is that for when you rebuffed his crush and embarrassed him on training?” She grabs the twisted blanket and spreads it on her bed. “Or when you criticized Stiles for front lining our capture-the-flag team because he’s a newbie?” Cora folds and pats the cloth where it’s wrinkled. “Or when you told him he was going to hold back his quest because you believed he wasn’t ready for one?” She finishes by arranging the blanket over the pillows. Hm. Her bed looks decent now.

There’s a tick in Derek’s jaw because he does not need his douchebaggery checklist thrown at his face like that. “And he proved me wrong on all of that. Hence-” he waves a hand at the bag on his lap.

Cora crosses her arms in her chest and stares at Derek in consideration. The smirk returns. She tells him, “He’s at The Big House tutoring a new Ares camper.” She pauses, and the smirk stretches into a shit-eating grin. “The new kid’s hot.”

That information is unnecessary and doesn’t concern Derek at all.

He scowls darkly at his sister, picks up his backpack, and strides to The Big House with purpose, ignoring Cora’s cackling in the background.

the demigods:

Stiles • Theo • Derek • Lydia • Kira • Isaac • Jackson

[narcissasdaffodil]

48 for drabbles, Marisol x MC <3

48: I called you at 2am because I need you

So I lost the prompt list but I’m going to take these from another one, hopefully that’s fine x Also, I hit 200k fic wise, so I’m posting a little something extra from my drafts x

Alecto had decided to visit Abby for 2 weeks in Los Angeles. She had decided to go on a whim after winning Love Island with Marisol earlier in the summer, but it being so incredibly last minute meant she had to leave Marisol behind in the UK.

Abby was still the same as ever, just as obsessed with rare bookshops, coffee and trying out new things. They hadn’t seen each other for years, but appeared to catch up in no time. Abby was writing music and pursuing her dreams, uni was definitely the wrong choice for her all those years ago.

Abby had managed to secure tickets for the Dodie concert, and they were just returning back to the apartment, arms laden with food and drinks. Both of them were high off adrenaline and happiness, their throats were sore from singing at the top of their lungs. Surprisingly, there was an actual queue for takeout food, and they had got delayed. Alecto always left her phone on silent, and had no real need for it throughout the night, apart from taking photos with Abby and experimenting at taking more types of photos. Photography was a passion for her, and she had gained some great shots. She would never do it for a career, her dream was to be a doctor so she followed her destiny there.

She rested her box of food, and her tiny bag on the side table, leaving her phone face up next to it, sitting cross legged on the couch and starting to tuck into her burger. Abby sat next to her, both of them focused on their food. The apartment was silent as they ate, both of them ravenous after the concert. Long hair started to slide out of the clip, making its way down Alecto’s shoulders.

Abby finished her food first, despite starting later, and removed the large hair clip from Alecto’s hair, pushing it out of her way and putting the clip safely on the side table. She heard a loud beep, and retrieved her phone from the table, her eyes drawn to the light coming from Alecto’s phone as she grabbed her own phone.

“Looks like someone keeps trying to reach you there, might be a good idea to check it.” She said, curling up and resting her phone on her knees, checking it.

Alecto nodded, giving her a thumbs up. Her mouth was full with burger, and she was always a very neat eater. She finished her mouthful and set down the empty box, retrieving her phone. She checks the time, noticing it was 2am. Her phone lit up again, and started to ring, Marisol’s name and picture on the display. Wait. Why has she texted you so many times? You do hope she’s okay.

Alecto pressed answer, putting her phone on speaker and turning the volume up.

“Hello?” Marisol sounded unsure, and her voice kept wobbling.

“Hello, are you okay? It’s 2am, but it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry... Forgot about the time difference, it’s 10am here. I haven’t been able to sleep at all, it’s been worrying me. But I don’t want to keep you up.” Marisol’s voice breaks slightly, not as sure of herself as she usually was.

“We came back from a concert not too long ago, we’ve only just had time to have food. That doesn’t matter though, if you need to talk it’s completely fine.” Alecto’s voice was soft and soothing, the sugar and energy from the concert forgotten. She hoped she could do the thing that Marisol did for her: being able to soothe her with just simple words and a warm hand.

“I’ve just been stressed about starting my second year of uni. It’s still a bit off yet, but I’m still nervous. And I struggle to sleep usually, but it’s different with you there, I can actually sleep properly. I kept waking up throughout the night, until I just gave up. I forgot what it was like to struggle to sleep, even though we haven’t been together for long at all. Sadie has been helping though, she loves me quite a lot currently. It’s surprising how much I miss you, and feels so silly.” Her voice sounded watery and kept shaking, getting considerably quieter. Alecto had to strain her ears slightly to hear, and turned up the volume on her phone.

“Do you want to have regular phone calls before you go to bed until I’m back? Will that maybe help a bit with the sleep issues? Also it isn’t silly! The same happened to me, when Abby first moved, and when I first went to uni. My sleeping pattern went out of the window a bit. When you care about someone and love them, it’s understandable to miss them if they’re not there with you constantly. I’m glad Sadie is a good stand in for me though, it’s a miracle she loves you as much as me! That’s so rare, you must be a cat whisperer or something.” Alecto heard a teary and snotty laugh on the other end, and grinned.

“If it’s not too much of a bother, that would be lovely. It’s surprising that I’m actually upset hearing your voice on the phone. I never got homesick when I first left home in the slightest, I was so independent from my family in general that I didn’t really miss them when I left. But you...it’s different. You care about me so much, you’re my safe space, my home. Sadie has been amazing company though, having her has helped a little. I’m not sure if part of my issue here is that...I don’t really have many friends in uni, or in general. I’ve never felt overly lonely, but for some reason, now I do.”

“Not actually surprising. When I first heard my dad’s voice on the phone, I did get pretty upset. Aww, the fact you feel that way about me does warm my heart. I guess if you’ve always been an outcast, it’s hard to deal with other people being different and actually having friends. I was the same when I first got closer to Abby, having two very toxic friends landed me with a shed load of issues and took a lot of courage to let them go. So finally having a healthy friendship and healthy family relationships was strange. But once you find your own friends, you’ll be okay. I understand that scares you, and you prefer to cut yourself off instead and stay at a distance, using the analysis thing as a defence mechanism but I hope that you’ll stop relying on it so heavily with me by your side. You’re not alone either, you still have Hope and Bobby, and both are long distance friendships but still equally as valuable.” Abby prodded her in the arm, trying to hint that she wanted to speak.

“Abby wants to speak to you, let me know if that’s okay.”

“That’s definitely fine.”

“Cool, handing you over now.” Alecto handed her phone to Abby.

“Hi. You clearly mean a lot to Alecto and you’re super special to her, so as her best friend, I’d like to talk to you more and get to know you better. Most of the people she’s dated previously I haven’t been too keen on, but you’re different. I know it might be a little weird, as I did date her before, but we’re still friends and all, and I’d love to extend that to you.”

“Really? I don’t have an issue with you two being friends in the slightest, from what I know, you two were friends first then started dating, so it wasn’t great that people expected you to give that up. Exes can be friends, there’s nothing against it! I’ve never done that myself, but ended up having a lot of messy breakups, even dated my best friend in secondary school and that completely broke the friendship. Olivia did break my heart, so the fact that I could open my heart up enough for Alecto is a big deal. I’m rambling now, but if you’re fine with it, cool.” Marisol was speaking pretty quickly, causing Abby to grin.

“Yup. I definitely mean that, the fact you don’t see me as threatening means a lot. Some people who Alecto’s dated, like only once or twice, had such an issue with it, that it did both of our heads in. I mean, I have a girlfriend now, so I’m not going to ruin anything, like people assumed. I do understand though, and I like you because of the way you and Alecto operate. So that’s all, I just wanted to let you know. I’ll hand you back to Alecto then.” Abby grinned, her voice warm.

“Okay, thank you! It does mean a lot.”

Abby grinned, moving to sort the boxes of food out and sort the mess in her apartment.

“Back to me again. Does that help? You do seem considerably happier, which is reassuring.”

“Yes, I am. It’s sweet of Abby to care about me, so that helps. I’ve never talked about Olivia to anyone apart from you before. So that’s a big deal. But I should probably let you go to bed soon, it’s really late in LA, I know.” Marisol’s voice was still watery, but she had gained enough stability to reassure Alecto a bit.

“Goodnight then. Call you tomorrow, well later today! Let’s organise a time via text or something.”

“Goodnight. See you.” When Marisol hung up, her voice sounded warmer already.

Alecto yawned, getting to her feet. She made her way to Abby’s guest bedroom, getting ready for bed. Once in bed, she dropped off quickly.

[romioneficfest]

My Gift to the RFF Community

Good Evening/Afternoon/Morning to everyone who has read, commented, reviewed, and most of all created content for this inaugural fest. My Black scaly heart is almost beating normally for all of the excellent works presented for consideration and appreciation.

While the one who inspired this fest didn’t contribute (and ‘tis since RL is a pain in the arse right now for most people!) I’m glad so many did contribute their time and efforts to this fest. 84 total works were submitted, 77 of which are up for voting consideration.

1 more will be published, an unabridged version of one of the fics submitted. The creator trimmed it down to meet fest rules but I promised them I’d post the unabridged version once voting started. 

However, I wish to offer my gift to you, one from a special place in my heart - the old theory of what happens to the man who suddenly has almost everything he wants yet doesn’t need? Does it corrupt him, like the Invisible Man? Or is his character so resolute that it doesn’t affect him in the least?

Thus, I give you this fic, as to how I think it would progress.

Title: Windfall Prompt: Bonus Day  Author: Dragon Rating: K+ Brief Summary: Hermione comes home from work and finds Ron sitting quietly in his office, reading parchment. When he doesn’t hear her, which is odd for him, she goes to investigate. Ron shows her what has his attention.

Content Warning: Indirect mention of minor character death; Hermione giving serious cheek

‘What a bloody long day,’ Hermione kicked off her dress shoes and put down her satchel, appreciating the fluffy carpets under her toes. Dealing with law enforcement misconduct was always a pain. They needed different procedures on Bailiff and Auror interactions.

Broken from her thoughts by the lack of dinner smell, she looked around. Ron wasn’t in the kitchen, preparing dinner like he loved to do. The kids were still at Hogwarts, with another month’s worth of term left before they returned home.

She tossed aside her purse and went to their office, the one he magically and lovingly expanded so they would have room to work without getting underfoot while also appreciating each other’s company. Sure enough, Ron was in there, wearing the half-moon glasses he picked up last year to help with the small print reading he said to her, even if she knew already. It wasn’t like she didn’t have her own sets to wear as well since there were so many documents crossing her desk that had too much fine print to read comfortably after long hours at the office.

‘Ron,’ said Hermione. He hadn’t heard her walk into their home which seemed a bit odd. He hadn’t heard her this time, either.

She walked the five steps to where he was sitting in his comfortable chair and put her hand on his shoulder. He reciprocated and without saying a word, he handed up the three sheets of parchment up to her, saying nary a word.

Hermione scanned the first page and gasped! While she was never close to Aunt Muriel, she was his family and she would treat her with respect, even if she didn’t like her too much, not with how nitpicky she was with the women in the family. Angelina was the only one. Somehow they’d bonded and were fast friends. Hermione couldn’t understand it.

She flipped to the second page, reading the document and as she scanned the page, her eyes widened for every single subsequent line she read. She flipped it to the third before looking down and seeing her husband quite lost in thought.

She went back and re-read it all, making sure she knew and understood what she read. 

‘I’m sorry about Aunt Muriel,’ the bushy-haired witch said. 

‘I’m surprised she lived as long as she did. But even Healers couldn’t help her any longer.’ 

‘She is still family,’ Hermione put her hand back on his shoulder and squeezed. 

‘She wasn’t a favourite of mine, not like you or Dad.’ Ron took the parchment and put it back down on his desk. ‘What are we going to do?’ 

‘That’s up to you, Ron. It’s not like either of us is comfortable attending funerals anymore.’ 

‘Hell no,’ He sighed. ‘I should go. It’s the right thing to do.’ 

‘Why don’t you ask Mum and Dad what they think? If they say you don’t have to, then don’t.’

Tapping on the office window interrupted their conversation. ‘Wonder what else is going to happen today?’ Ron got up and went to the window, letting the small barn owl land on his wrist while sticking a leg out for the small rolled parchment attached. ‘Need a kip or a rasher?’

The owl hooted and Ron put it on the temporary roost where the owl could have a drink of water and a snack. ‘Does this need a reply?’ The owl gave one very long hoot. ‘No? Ok. Stay as long as you need. I’m sure you’re a bit tired.’

He unrolled the parchment and scanned the short note, breathing a sigh of relief. ‘It’s a note from Mum. She said that Aunt Muriel made all of her arrangements and, said there are no services since she said we’d been through enough.’

‘That’s surprising, the way she prattled about everyone coming to visit.’

‘Nah, she meant well, even if she was as cranky as Crookshanks.’

‘Well, he is very old, and so was she.’

The silence grew between the married couple, both lost in their thoughts.

‘We could move to a bigger house,’ he blurt out. ‘I know the kids aren’t home much nowadays and that we’re both still working entirely too much but maybe something closer to Mum and work might make things easier?’

‘Our house is fine, Ron. I’m comfortable here especially since most people don’t know where we live. We decided that issue years ago. While yes, I am well known and so are you, if not in the same ways, we don’t need an enormous country estate to flaunt our prestige.’

‘A holiday, perhaps? It’s been a little while since we were off work and away from here.’

‘We can do that,’ Hermione replied noncommittedly. ‘An extended Holiday might be quite lovely, especially if it is somewhere cold this time of the year.’

‘It’s the middle of winter in Australia right now,’ Ron smiled. Hermione returned it fondly, reflecting on that complex time in their lives when grief and rage along with relief and exploration fueled their time tracking down her parents. ‘You said you wanted to return. We could take the kids with us and let them see some of the sights.’

Hermione hummed noncommittedly.

‘What are you thinking, dear?’

‘Do you remember that memorable night about a week after we arrived in Australia?’

‘Which one? Most of them were memorable while we were in Australia. So you’ll have to remind me.’

‘We were in bed after,’ Hermione blushed, ‘and you said what you would do if you had a ridiculous sum of money. While the reward money from the Order of Merlin presentation was nice,’ she added.

‘It was enough to get you your engagement ring and have some galleons in a Gringott’s account,’ Ron added. ‘I think I remember that night now.’

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair. ‘Do you remember what you said you’d do if you had Malfoy money?’

‘You mean before they were bankrupted funding the coup, left destitute and so desperate for galleons Draco went to work?’ He smiled. ‘That part is a bit fuzzy, but then I do think it was half three when we had that conversation and I was about asleep.’

She smiled. ‘You said if you lucked into a stupid amount of money someday and that if we were comfortable financially, you’d want to help others.’

‘I’ve wanted to help others, Hermione. You know the shite I went through, with a broken wand, robes that were too small, clothes that were so short I showed inches of ankles, and those ghastly dress robes.’

Hermione stood behind her husband, rubbing his shoulders. ‘We’ll see to your parents first.’

‘Mum and Dad always come first,’ Ron said without hesitation.

‘And if they don’t want it or say they don’t? What do you want to do?’

‘Tell Bill to put some in there anyway,’ Ron answered.

‘And if the will has them sorted?’

‘I dunno, maybe a Holiday?’

Hermione was quiet, with Ron turning to look at her. ‘What?’

‘Hear me out on this. What if we took some of that windfall and were able to help kids in your situation so they don’t have to be hampered with a broken wand, or robes that don’t fit or can’t afford the books for the term?’

‘Well, the books have already been seen to. You took care of those issues years ago, once you started working.’

‘True but other supplies weren’t included,’ she added. She lifted the parchment and scanned the document. ‘Reading this as I think I am,’

‘Which you probably are,’ Ron added.

‘If we got with some of the rest of the family and asked them to chip in a little bit, say 10 galleons each, once, and with this, we could fund a Trust for underprivileged students.’ She took the glasses down her nose a touch, looking over the top of them at his befuddled face. ‘Imagine being a first-year student with a hand me down wand, hand me down robes, and tattered books. How much more do you think you’d have done if you’d had a set of nice daily robes, a wand that worked, or books that weren’t held together with sellotape?’

‘I thought there was a bunch of wands they used later for the kids who couldn’t afford one.’

‘And you know the lore better than I do – The wand chooses the Wizard. ‘

‘But there are things we need to do first,’ he added. ‘Like – ‘

‘Love,’ she interrupted, smiling brightly. ‘I don’t know if you realize, but the amount bequeathed is a vast sum.’

‘Vast?’

Hermione smiled. ‘Vast, love. Off the top of my head, and the current conversion rate of 10 pounds to the galleon, I’d say it’s –

’10 British pounds to the galleon? You’re full of it.’ Ron took them back and looked at the parchment. He muttered a few words under his breath, doing his calculations.’ He looked up from the parchment and his eyes were about to water. ‘Holy Fuck. Where the bloody fuck did she get that kind of money?’

‘I’m sure it’s been passed down the Prewett lines and with your Uncles perishing before marrying – ‘

‘That left Mum sole beneficiary – ‘

‘And Mum probably asked for Aunt Muriel to pass it over it to the kids.’

‘I imagine the Goblins liked getting their hands on their portion of the Estate. I get that’s how they afford the upkeep and everything but it’s bloody buggering hard to see them get 25% of the value.’

‘At least it’s not on the Muggle side. Theirs is 40% over a certain value.’

Ron looked back at the paperwork. ‘Well, I at least want to give Mum and Dad a Holiday. They’ve not been anywhere for themselves in yonks.’

‘Oh, I agree. And we can take a small one too. It still leaves us quite a bit to play with, I reckon.’

Ron sighed. ‘Growing up, I always wanted to have galleons in my own vault at Gringott’s. I didn’t like that we had to scramble to pay for things second and third hand, listening to Mum begging us to make something last ‘just one more year’. Ron turned his chair around and gave her a crushing hug, squeezing hard but not enough to make her wince. ‘It hurt, Hermione.’

‘I know and we’re not in that situation. We worked very hard early on, saved our galleons, lived frugally and modestly and here we are. The kids are happy and want for nothing, even if they don’t get all they want. We have some nice things, we travel a bit for pleasure, and we’re comfortable.’

‘It’s hard to let go of that mindset, Hermione.’ Ron looked up at his wife, smiling at her. ‘But if we can keep kids from going through what I did, I think it’ll be a big benefit and a tremendous help down the line.’

Hermione kissed Ron on the forehead. ‘Maybe we could speak with Parvati and Lavender and ask them how much a basic robe costs? It wouldn’t be fancy but something that the kids wouldn’t mind.’

‘What about regular clothes? Aren’t most kids in better shape than we were?’

‘It’s easy enough to pick quality things up at charity shops. Supplies shouldn’t be difficult to acquire as well. I’m sure if we ask McGonagall if there are students in need, she’d let us know.’

‘You think we can do this? You think we can make a difference in a kid’s life?’

Hermione knelt, holding her husband’s face in her hands. ‘How much did you appreciate getting nice robes fifth year and a new broom?’

‘Loved it,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t know for yonks that Harry told the twins to buy me new robes, the git.’

‘But it helped, didn’t it?’

‘I reckon so.’ His face betrayed how he really felt.

‘If you’re worried about people connecting you with what we’re doing we can always put it in another name. We could call it the Muriel Prewett Trust.’

‘She’d go nutters if she knew it was named after her.’

‘So name it after your Uncles? Or Fred? Or Weasley Family Trust?’

An enormous smile broke out on his face. Ron stood, taking his wife’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply, showing her how much her help was appreciated.

‘Esteemed Directors,’ Hermione’s voice boomed in the Wizengamot. She stood in the middle of the floor, splendid in her Tyrian purple robes, a set of gold wands embroidered on the right chest and a Prewitt family heirloom brooch on her left. ‘I wish to broach the last bit of business with you before the term starts.’

‘Go ahead, Solicitor Granger,’ Kingsley’s voice echoed well in the chambers. He smiled, knowing what was about to be discussed.

‘A few months ago, the last of a particular family name from the Sacred 28 passed away from old age. Her heirs, with their blessing,’ Hermione looked up into the stands and saw her husband smiling back at her, ‘have asked to establish a trust for the students of Hogwarts.’

‘The school is properly funded for decades. Why do we require a Trust?’ The elderly wizard she knew all too well spoke first. ‘Hogwarts does not need a trust.’

‘I didn’t say the school, Mr Purifoy,’ she stared back at the old wizard who had previously been Chief Mugwump for the Wizengamot before retiring years prior. ‘I said for the students. The school is well funded. I verified the books before making this appointment.’

‘Go on,’ an elderly witch spoke up. ‘It’s time for afternoon tea.’

‘I promise to hurry, Minister Shafiq.’ Hermione looked around at the old faces and ancient robes. ‘The trust is for the students, for those in need. While many might bristle if it’s considered charity, there are those in need.’

‘No student has ever been turned away from Hogwarts, not in the centuries it’s been open.’

‘I realize that. What I am proposing is that this trust is for those students who arrive at Hogwarts with legitimate needs. How many students arrive at Hogwarts wearing second-hand robes, or a cauldron that explodes the first time they use it because the bottom is too thin? How many have out of date books because that’s all the parents can afford? Minister, we still have a few students coming to us who are the last of the War Orphans. These children have meagre means and no way to catch up with their peers. What I am proposing on behalf of the family is equity, not charity, but investment and philanthropy.’

‘Go on,’ another voice spoke.

‘These students, when they receive their letter for Hogwarts will include in their parchment parcel a letter from the Trust, offering to assist them financially, should they choose. The offering is a set of robes, all necessary supplies, a set of books, and a voucher for Ollivander’s to receive their first wand. Since we don’t recommend children having a duel for a wand, and the number of wands inherited from elders are limited, why not offer these students a head start to their magical education?’

‘That’s ridiculous! Everyone would leap at the chance to have someone else pay for all of their necessities.’

‘You misunderstand me, sir. No one person makes this decision, nor is it made lightly. Why would we make this offer to, say, Draco Malfoy, for his son when they are financially comfortable? These would be pre-screened before they receive their letter.’ She looked around and saw a few heads nodding. ‘It’s not equal treatment, esteemed colleagues, but equity, where those students in need of a hand receive it. While we educate them, we’re also meeting their basic needs and we’re building a better future for our way of life. The funds wouldn’t be thrown around for parties, or fundraising. No, this trust is self-funded by the family in question. And there are ample funds to last for centuries if handled properly.’

‘How many can this help immediately, Solicitor?’ Another voice spoke up.

‘Immediately? Ten students. That accounts for half the starting fund. For every student that doesn’t need assistance, the funds accumulate. Eventually, if properly managed and the one entrusted is bonded to manage the Trust, in 30 years, half the school could be seen to, given current enrollment figures.’

‘Half, you say? That’s a load of rubbish,’ Ewan Purifoy retorted.

‘Rubbish, you say? Since you grew up when being part of a Pureblood family guaranteed your position in society,’ a rumble erupted through the chambers, ‘there are dozens of children starting at Hogwarts who lack a quill or an ink jar. How much return on the investment would we receive to giving those less fortunate children an equal start? How much benefit would Wizarding society receive for these children coming to Hogwarts, not privileged but receiving the tools and supplies they need to prosper? I don’t see you opening your vault, Sir, to afford an opportunity, though you have the means.’

He harrumphed. ‘If the family in question wishes to bankrupt themselves on children who won’t appreciate the generosity of charity, who am I to tell someone how they afford it?’

Hermione bristled. ‘You stood aside when children died. You sneer at as charity is an investment in our way of life’s future. Wasn’t enough magical blood spilt for supposed Pureblood Supremacy? They are our future. You aren’t part of it, Purifoy,’ she pierced him with a hard stare, earning one in return.

A roar erupted.

‘Order,’ Kingsley’s voice boomed. He waited for the room to settle. ‘Motion to proceed on approval of the Fredrick Gideon trust raise their hands.’

Most members raised their hands.

‘Motion to dismiss?’ Two hands went up.

‘Motion is hereby approved. The Fredrick Gideon Trust for Hogwarts students is available as of 8 am tomorrow. Adjourned.’

Immediately Hermione was engulfed by strong arms. “You did it!” Ron spun her around.

“No Love. You did it.” She kissed him.

[heysoup]

Fluffy February Day 2 - Movie Night

Reminder to follow @fluffyfebruary ​ to see the prompt list and that I’ll be using the tags #fluffyfebruary and #fluffyfeb for these.

Continuing the fics with day two! I’m super proud of this one; It’s dripping with fluff and teenage angst. Warning for potential secondhand embarrassment - they’re both idiots in love and have no idea how to show it.

Chapter 2: Films and Fears

Pairing: Butch/Male Lone Wanderer

Summary: Dealing with life in the vault can be tough, especially for an outcast like Jamie. When he befriends Butch through his G.O.A.T. assignment, however, the two make their own safe place. Butch decides to surprise him there one day with the promise of treasure, and it leads to something more than they both expect.

Ao3 Link

Jamie tosses and turns in his rat’s nest of a bed. It’s midnight – he’s too hot, the vault’s ventilation system’s groaning is echoing around him like a damn chorus, and his sheets keep scratching uncomfortably against his clammy skin. He brings his wrist close to his face to mindlessly check his Pip-Boy for the millionth time that night, his arm feeling as heavy as lead, and he squints at the fluorescent light of the screen as he taps it awake.

Though Butch showed him a few times before, it still takes him a moment to remember the right sequence of buttons to push to unlock developer’s mode and navigate to the messaging tab the other boy set up for them. It’s only been about a month since Butch found an old Pip-Boy manual in Stanley’s locker and got this trick to work, but already there’s a considerable backlog of messages between the two.

Jamie scrolls through them with the dial on his Pip-Boy, worrying the skin of his lower lip with his teeth as he reads through some of the older messages. It’s become a new habit for him on these particularly rough sleepless nights. When he’s too exhausted to write in his journal, draw, or jump around his room in an attempt to tire himself out; he talks to Butch.

If someone had told him a year ago that Butch DeLoria, his childhood bully and teenage rival, would be one of his only sources of solace these days he would have called them insane. Turns out, giving the vault’s two delinquents deadbeat jobs with no supervision and shoving them in the same closet of a studio space could make them form a pretty strange alliance. The enemy of my enemy and all of that, right?

It also doesn’t help that Amata is forever busy with her new duties as overseer’s assistant – or whatever her job title is actually called. Jamie misses her like he’s lost a part of himself, and even though he knows she’s not locked away with her father by choice he can’t help the nagging part of his brain that is convinced she abandoned him.

Butch is dealing with the same thing, though with less consequence. His fellow Tunnel Snakes are relatively busy with their new jobs – Wally as a security guard and Paul as an engineer – but they still make some time to see each other. Butch is just one of those people who needs constant attention, which is where Jamie supposes he comes in handy. He tries not to think too hard about it.

He’s is snickering to himself while he reads some messages sent a few weeks back during one of their spats, most of which were petty insults and some pretty creative curses, when a new message blips through and pulls his screen to attention.

913473: nosebleed u up?

Perfect timing, Jamie thinks, sitting up in his bed to type. The 6-digit code is what Butch called his Pip-ID – apparently every Pip-Boy comes with one coded in by default. It was weird at first, trying to memorize the numbers and calm his own paranoia at the thought of someone hacking into their conversations, but Butch said that their numbers were for their Pip-Boys alone, so Jamie trusted him. The horrible, agitated crawling under his skin that was keeping him up all night begins to fade as he replies.

604272: didja even have to ask? 913473: just say yes or no damn 604272: k. no 913473: oh fuck off

Jamie can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him, and he grins like a complete idiot down at the screen.

913473: if ur done being an ass i have somethin for us to do 913473: if u aint busy of course 913473: meet at the place? 604272: sure. be there in 10

He switches his Pip-Boy screen off and hops out of bed, stretching languorously before grabbing his jumpsuit from where he left it earlier that day in a heap on the floor. He tugs it on leg by leg and zips it up before checking himself in the mirror.

His hair is a mop of curls on his head and he does his best to smooth it down, knowing Butch will scold him for not using the correct conditioner to tame his flyaways like he showed him. The bags under his eyes are a bit darker than usual, but there’s nothing to be done about that. He shrugs to himself and turns to the door. No point in being too self-conscious about his appearance this late at night – isn’t like this is a date or anything, he tells himself.

He doesn’t bother being quiet as he leaves his room, knowing his dad would still be working at the clinic or at the very least passed out there on one of the cots. He doesn’t come home much these days.

Jamie shoves his boots on, not even bothering with socks, and peers out of the thick window into the hallway. It seems empty, so he hits the button and creeps out through the door.

The neon blue emergency lights that run along the edges of the ceiling and floor greet him when he steps out of his apartment. He shoves his hands in his pockets, a nervous habit, and peers around the corner before continuing his path. The door closes not-so-softly behind him and he walks down the hall past the restrooms that separate his and Butch’s apartments. He stops momentarily outside the door to the DeLoria’s apartment, noticing it’s dark and quiet inside.

Butch must already be down there, Jamie thinks, picking up his pace as much as he could without making too much noise. Despite the constant creaking and rumbling of the vault’s ventilation and reactor systems the halls at night could carry quite an echo, and his boots aren’t the quietest things to sneak around in.

Patrols were lax recently but knowing his luck he’d get caught breaking curfew and would have to clean the bathrooms again. He briefly regrets not wearing socks because he refuses to take his boots off and walk barefoot on the cold steel floor, even if it is quieter.

Further down the hallway and a bit past the occupied wing of apartments, Jamie stops at the top of a short set of stairs that lead down to a small corridor with one door. A large INACCESSIBLE sign glows ominously above it, and in the corner of the hallway facing the stairwell is a single security camera. It rotates at a snail’s pace, its gears clicking audibly with every circuit it makes of the dead-end hallway.

Jamie ducks down near the wall at the top of the stairs, watching the camera as he has so many times before to study its crawling path. When Butch had discovered this place, they figured out a way to tilt the camera up ever so slightly with the handle of a broom from their shop – creating about thirty seconds of a blind spot to get them from the stairs and through the door without getting caught if they hugged the left wall.

Peering down the hallways around him one more time to make sure no patrols were coming; Jamie types a quick message into his Pip-Boy.

604272: here

He waits a few moments until he hears a couple sharp raps on the metal door down the way, telling him that Butch is there whenever he’s ready. Jamie waits a few more moments and listens to the camera click back into its blind spot before he hops down the stairs, staying low and to the left as he stalks toward the door. He hits it lightly with his palm when he gets there, and it slides open. He has just enough time to duck inside, slamming his fist on the button to shut it just as he hears the security camera restart its rotation.

“You’re still gonna act like it's some big heist no matter how many times we come down here, huh?” Jamie turns around in the darkness and is met with Butch’s grin, a bottle of beer already in one of his fists. His Pip-Boy light is on, basking them in a dim green glow.

“Keeps it interesting,” he replies, punching Butch playfully on the arm. On this side of the door is a long flight of stairs and they continue further down into the pitch darkness, hands pressing along the walls for purchase with nothing but about three feet of lighting in front of them.

The emergency lights are shut off down here, along with the security cameras – probably to save power, so Jamie turns his Pip-Boy light on as well. It’s a bit brighter, but not by much. They’ve been down here enough times by now that their bodies remember how many steps there are, but Jamie always has a nagging fear in the back of his mind that one day the staircase will just keep going forever. He shakes that thought from his head, listening to the sound of their boots stomping down the steps and focusing his gaze on Butch’s free hand as it slides against the railing.

For the past month or so this has been their escape. Butch somehow figured out how to break into the door they just passed through, and they discovered a whole wing of abandoned apartments under the ones they were currently living in. So far all they had done was clear out one room that had a ratty old couch, some blankets, a broken Nuka Cola mini-fridge, and a few wooden storage crates in it. Jamie had also rigged up a small emergency generator and they were able to find some lamps to make it a little less depressing.

Most importantly, they had booze smuggled from Butch’s mom’s liquor stash, a few cartons of cigarettes they’d traded with Stevie for some chems Jamie snuck from his dad’s clinic, their collection of comic books, and Jamie’s old BB gun for when they got bored. It’s far from perfect, but it’s space, and when you’re destined to roam the same hallways with the same people for the rest of your miserable existence – that amounts to a lot.

“So, what are we actually doing?” Jamie asks as they turn into the apartment they’d claimed as their base. Butch has the generator running and the room smells thickly of his peach pomade and cigarette smoke – he must have been down here for a few hours already.

“I,” Butch begins, stopping to pull the cork out of his new bottle of beer with his teeth before spitting it on the floor and taking a swig, “am gonna show you some treasure.” He finishes with a flourish, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, and plops down onto the couch next to his discarded Tunnel Snake jacket.

Jamie snorts and pulls up a crate, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch and propping his feet up. He clicks his tongue in mock annoyance when Butch’s boots crowd his own on the small surface and, in a fruitless endeavor, they battle for leg space before giving in to sharing. It’s obvious the other boy is already a bit tipsy.

“Treasure, huh? That’s cool, I guess,” Jamie snickers, snatching the bottle of beer from Butch and downing some before he could protest. It burns in his throat and brings a comforting warmth to his chest. He continues nursing the drink and settles further back into the worn corduroy couch, his posture absolutely terrible. Butch reaches for another bottle.

“Yup.” The bottle pops open and another cork joins the pile growing on the floor. Another drink and an obnoxious burp, then Butch sits forward - feet falling to the floor, his hands on his knees, and an excited light in his eyes. His leg is bouncing incessantly.

“Listen, I was going through some rooms down here and I found an old projector – like the one Brotch has?” He glances at Jamie, blue eyes a soft, dreamy color in the low light, and Jamie can’t help but gulp at the intensity he sees there. When Butch has a plan he’s excited about, he turns into a different person – like all the stress of conforming to the monotony of vault life has washed away and he’s finally allowed to be the mischievous and passionate person hiding underneath it all. Or… something like that. Jamie’s waxing poetic again, something he can’t help but do when around Butch.

“That’s pretty cool,” is all Jamie can bring himself to breathe out as he sips on his beer. He picks at the loose threads on the arm of the couch as he tries not to think about the fact that Butch had his lips on this same bottle just a few seconds ago.

Butch deflates a bit. “Pretty cool?” he mocks, leaning closer. Okay, maybe he’s more drunk than Jamie had first thought, if the redness of his cheeks were any indication.

“Nosebleed, I found full on ho-lo-disks,” Butch emphasizes, blowing a few messy curls away from his forehead. Jamie just shrugs.

“Okay?” he begins, not seeing the big deal. They already have these things in the classroom. “What’re we gonna do, watch some lectures? Don’t tell me DeLoria wants to brush up on his studying,” he taunts.

Butch just sneers at him in response, standing up and only swaying a bit – much to Jamie’s surprise. “You have no imagination, dweeb. Stay here!” And with that, he storms out of the room and into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Jamie can see the green light of his Pip-Boy flash on through the window as he walks further away into the dark.

It’s a few minutes before he comes back, and Jamie can hear the ruckus he’s causing before he sees him. He’s startled out of his comfortable position on the couch and perks up. The door slides open and Butch pushes the projector into their base on its rolling cart. One of the wheels must be rusted because its screeching like a damn rat, scraping against the metal flooring as he drags it to the center of the room. He grabs an old cardboard box from the lower shelf of the cart and slides it on the floor over to Jamie with his foot before going back to set the projector up with their tangled mess of extension cords.

Jamie picks it up and grimaces at the box – it’s a little rank and it feels crusty in some spots. “This thing is probably covered in like a hundred different types of mold,” he complains.

“Didn’t give it to ya so you could judge the box!” Butch snaps, banging the top of the projector impatiently when the power flickers. “Open the damn thing.”

Jamie places the box on the couch beside him and sits up, peeling it open to peer inside. His jaw drops in amazement at the sight – more holodisks than he’s ever seen in his life, all with unique and eye-catching, full-color illustrations on the covers. He stares at Butch in disbelief and catches the other boy staring at him, an unabashed, beaming smile on his face when he sees Jamie’s reaction. When their eyes meet, Butch clears his throat and snaps his attention back to the projector, fiddling with some dials that don’t seem to change anything.

“Cool, right?” He says, his ears turning red as he dismisses his earlier excitement with a sheepish shrug.

“It’s fucking great!” Jamie laughs and begins to rummage through the box. There are real films in here, like he’s only read about in pre-war history classes or his cheesy novels. Aside from a whole slew of superhero films starring characters like The Silver Shroud and even some of Grognak the Barbarian, there are titles that look like they’re about pre-war animals in different parts of the world, some with soldiers in power armor, some ancient recordings of sports, and what looks like a few western and sci-fi films

Butch walks back over and sits beside him, throwing his arm over the back of the couch and leaning in to look at the titles. Jamie’s breath hitches at his closeness and he can feel his cheeks heating up. He tries not to show it, leaning in ever so slightly to let their shoulders brush.

“You can pick first, my treat,” Butch says while gesturing to the patchwork sheet he’d hung up on the opposite wall of the small apartment – Butch must have stitched it together himself out of whatever excess fabric he found. It’s hanging a little crooked and the projector’s STAND BY image is a bit fuzzy, but a bubble of excitement forms in Jamie’s chest regardless. He doesn’t want to read too far into things, but Butch had found this and made it a surprise specifically for them to share. That made him feel a certain kind of way.

He blinks those embarrassing thoughts away and nods, his face warm. Looking over their choices carefully, he finally decides and picks the western – he always did have a fondness for the freedom that seemed to come with being a cowboy – and walks to the projector to pop it in and press play.

He half expects Butch to make fun of his choice, but the other boy is oddly quiet, carefully inspecting his fingernails as Jamie switches off the lamps and kicks off his boots before returning to sit cross-legged on the couch. Butch still hasn’t scooted further away or removed his arm from the back of the couch, so their knees bump and he can feel the warmth of Butch’s arm behind his neck and it sends prickles through his skin.

Only as the movie begins do they realize they don’t have any speakers hooked up – so it’s completely silent in the room other than the whirring of the film in the projector.

“I didn’t even think of that,” Butch sighs and shakes his head in disappointment. Jamie just laughs.

“It’s still cool,” he assures him. “They used to have silent movies all the time apparently – especially back in cowboy days. It’s authentic,” he purses his lips at the end, trying to do his best impression of Mr. Brotch. It seems to work because Butch cracks a grin at him and snorts.

“Sure, it’ll work for now, but I saw some terminals in another apartment down here. We can check for some speakers there later,” Butch says and then his playful grin becomes roguish. “Push comes to shove, we can just swipe one from upstairs. Who’d notice a missing speaker?”

Jamie just scoffs and elbows him, turning his attention back to the film as the title screen fades in and he reads, ‘High Lonesome.’ He didn’t bother to read what the film was about, but it opens with a group of people in a wagon on a vast desert plain with plateaus towering in the distance.

There isn’t too much to see at first, but one thing that sticks with him is the impossible vastness of the sky as the camera zooms out to show a wider view of the prairie they’re riding along. He’s seen pictures of the sky, sure, but something about watching the tiny silhouettes of people move around under it was chilling – it was huge and incredibly empty. He didn’t know if what he was feeling was amazement or terror.

Despite the film being in black and white, the shimmer of the sun on the horses’ flanks as they gallop is bright enough to seem real and Jamie is completely entranced as he watches. And, luckily enough, there seem to be subtitles, so they’ll still be able to understand what’s going on.

Jamie’s trance is momentarily broken when Butch leans down and grabs something from under the couch. He returns with a box of fancy lads which he presses into Jamie’s hands. Jamie mumbles his thanks, his eyes never leaving the picture as he tears into a package and shoves a whole powdery cake into his mouth.

Butch just laughs at him and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He lights one just as the young cowboy on screen does – much to Jamie’s delight – and they chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

They pass the snacks, beer, and smokes back and forth between each other as they watch their movies. When the western is over, Butch picks a film called ‘Teenage Caveman,’ saying that it has to be good because the cover has tits and a giant lizard monster on it. It ends up being the worst piece of garbage they’ve ever seen – and that’s saying a lot considering they’ve only seen one other film in their whole lives.

“That dude didn’t even look like a teenager! He had to be like thirty,” Jamie says, tossing the film into a box they decide to label ‘shit.’ According to Butch, they were like pioneers and had to record their findings, so not only were they watching the films, but they were sorting them from best to worst. As Butch had put it in his best overseer impression, they were doing future vault residents a great service and fulfilling their civic duty… by saving others from watching total pieces of trash.

“There wasn’t even a single boob,” Butch mopes, snubbing out the last of his cigarette in the cracked coffee mug functioning as their makeshift ashtray. “Talk about false advertising. The giant lizards were kinda cool, though.” Jamie smacks him upside the head.

“You wouldn’t know what a boob looked like if it smacked you in the face.”

“You take that back!” Butch laughs and tosses their snacks on the floor, lunging for Jamie who’s cackling just as hard. They’re fucking hammered at this point and they roll off the couch into a heap on the floor, knocking a crate over as they grapple at each other. They wrestle like this sometimes – it’s a great outlet for Jamie’s aggressive energy and, when they’re less drunk, Butch actually teaches him how to kick ass. Now, they’re just breathless laughs and fumbling hands as they scramble for purchase on the floor and try their damnedest to pin the other down.

Butch may be stronger on a normal day, but at the moment he’s piss-drunk compared to Jamie who still has a bit of his wits about him. He flips the taller boy over so quickly it’s almost comical and pins him, pressing his knees against his thighs and holding his wrists at his sides to stop him from getting up. He laughs triumphantly.

“What’s wrong, Butchie? You’ve never lost a fight so fast!” He grins down at the boy smugly but stops short when he sees the look on Butch’s face. It’s endearing how red his cheeks are, his hair a mess and his blue eyes wide. Butch just fixes him with those piercing baby blues.

“Don’t get cocky, Nosebleed. I let ya do it,” he says in a soft voice, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Jamie’s mouth goes dry, his eyes fixed on Butch’s unbelievably pink lips. He hates himself for how much he wants to kiss him then and without thinking he begins to lean forward. He catches himself, though, and his thoughts have him jumping off of Butch and falling back against the couch like he’s been shocked, his chest heaving. He feels dizzy and he can still smell the earthy spice of the other boy’s aftershave enveloping him like a thick haze he can’t shake.

Butch laughs and pulls himself up into a sitting position, shooting Jamie a dazzling grin from his seat on the floor. “What’s wrong, Jamie?” Butch teases, his voice only a bit slurred and a shit-eating grin creeping its way onto his face. Hearing his name come from Butch is rare and it knocks the breath out of him. All he can do is stare.

Butch clambers ungracefully back up to the couch with him, leaning awfully close and whispering, “cat got your tongue?” His breath is warm on Jamie’s face and it smells like a mixture of smoke and alcohol, something he never thought would smell so intoxicating, but of course it does – it’s Butch.

Jamie’s heart is in his fucking throat and he can’t breathe. Butch is pressed against his side and his back is against the arm of the couch. There’s nowhere for him to escape to – not that he necessarily wants to, but he was never very good with facing his feelings. Either Butch is actively trying to flirt with him or he’s fucking around, and Jamie can’t decide which one is worse.

“You’re drunk, you idiot,” Jamie laughs weakly and goes to push Butch away by the chest but stops when he feels his heart pounding under his t-shirt. The other boy’s breath hitches and his body stiffens at Jamie’s touch, his lips parting as if he were trying to think of what to say.

“So are you,” Butch finally settles with, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Jamie’s wrist. His touch almost feels like it burns. They sit like that for a moment, staring at each other, eyes like fire.

The generator chooses that moment to shut off, leaving them in pitch darkness. Out of instinct, Jamie curls his fingers into Butch’s shirt, his ears ringing at the sudden silence in the room and his breathing becoming labored. Darkness feels suffocating to him sometimes, and this is one of those moments. It lays over them like a thick blanket, and the only thing that pulls him out of his internal panic is Butch’s free hand cupping the back of his head, fingers twining through the thick, curly hair at the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t even have time to think about what Butch might be doing before he feels the press of the other boy’s lips warm against his own. Though they’re unbelievably soft, the kiss is rushed and clumsy – desperate almost – and Jamie grunts when their teeth knock together. He wastes no time returning the kiss, though, his eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on the feel of Butch’s lips against his own and the rough burn of his stubble as it brushes against his chin.

It must have just been a power surge, because suddenly the generator kicks back on and the projector screen lights up the room. Their eyes fly open and they wrench apart, still holding onto each other as if for dear life. Whatever safety they felt shrouded in the darkness is ripped away and they’re left feeling vulnerable and exposed. Jamie’s breath comes out in stutters and he dares to glance up at the other boy.

Butch’s eyes are filled with a fiery heat he can’t even describe and something akin to tenderness – which is hard for him to pinpoint since he’s never been looked at like that before. He sucks in a sharp breath. For some reason, even though he’s been dreaming of this moment for months, he just feels terrified and embarrassed – like he fucked up somehow. The panic must be written clearly on his face because Butch pulls away like he’s been slapped and falls back to the other end of the couch.

“Sh-shit, I,” Butch stutters, his hand clutching his chest where Jamie’s was a moment before, “fuck, Jamie, I didn’t mean to.” His voice cracks, sounding almost pleading. Jamie doesn’t know what to say, his mouth flapping uselessly, and it’s too much for him to handle. He doesn’t understand what his problem is. Everything in his heart is telling him to leap forward and continue kissing Butch, but he’s just too fucking scared.

“It’s fine!” He practically snaps, standing up suddenly. He’s shaking and feels clammy and he’s sure he’s as pale as a ghost – is it even possible for something good to give you a panic attack?

He glances around for his boots for a moment, but it’s still too much and he can see Butch starting to reach for him with concern in his eyes. “I have to go,” he blurts out, and he turns tail and runs.

The last thing he hears before he leaves is Butch yelling his name, but he jogs up the steps in the darkness, tripping over his own feet and bruising his knees. He knows he’s acting like a child, but he can’t bring himself to care. He is absolutely not ready to face what’s happening and he needs to be alone in his room now.

When he reaches the door, he doesn’t even stop to think about the security camera on the other side, he just slams his fist on the button and rushes out and thankfully luck is on his side this time because he can hear the camera click into the end of its circuit.

He slows down when he reaches the halls, his bare feet making a lot less noise than his boots, but fuck the floor is cold and he regrets not stopping to find his shoes. Soon he reaches his apartment, and he rushes inside, thankful to see that it’s still empty. He locks himself in his own bedroom, suddenly feeling like everything is too much, and he rips his jumpsuit off, flopping onto his bed in just his tank top and boxers and pulling the covers over his head.

He wants to scream, maybe tear his hair out a little or punch the wall. He cannot believe how badly he fucked that up. He doesn’t even know what this means for their friendship – if he had tried to make a move on Butch and the other boy ran away, he would be devastated! Would Butch even want to talk to him anymore? He worries over these thoughts for a few hours until his brain feels like jelly. The last thing he’s aware of before falling asleep is how his lips taste ever-so-slightly like the sweet mint chap stick Butch always carries around.

---

He wakes up later to the sound of incessant beeping coming from his wrist. He groans, rubbing his hands over his eyes and down his face. He feels like complete shit – hungover, most likely, and his head is swimming.

He looks at his Pip-Boy to check the time and realizes he’s overslept. It’s two in the afternoon and he’s late for his work assignment at the studio but if he’s being honest the thought of having to drag himself out of bed and sit in a room with Butch all day doesn’t seem as great as it used to. He can’t help it when he opens the messaging app, biting his lip as he prepares to read whatever might be there.

913473: it was a prank haha i rly got u good

That one was sent almost immediately after he’d left last night, according to the timestamp. Something about it makes his gut twist, gives him a bit of nausea. He’s not sure if he believes Butch or not. Once again, he’s not sure which is harder to deal with. Dated about an hour later there are a few more.

913473: jamie im sorry pls answer me 913473: don’t ignore me man if ur mad just come beat me up 913473: are u sleeping? damn out of all the times 913473: its k. i kno u need it. gnight

Jamie doesn’t realize he’s chewing his lip to shreds until he tastes blood, and he curses, wiping it away on the hem of his tank top. His eyes are glued to the screen, his heart thundering in his ears. Dated even later are a handful of other messages and he can tell by their contents that Butch must have kept drinking in his absence. The thought of that tugs at his heart a little – maybe he isn’t the only one who’s terrified of his own feelings and kind of a fuckup.

913473: i know ur asleeeep 913473: gdamn typing onthis shit. fcking sucks 913473: m drunk but idc. i kissed u jamie n itfucking rocked 913473: wasnt a prank. im srry. dont hate me 913473: u can hit me all u want. ill evenlet u win the fight. 913473: jsut dont hate me

Jamie groans and grabs his pillow, shoving his face into it a few times and letting out as loud of a yell as he dares. It’s not enough, but it will have to do. Breathless and flushed, he’s about to lay back down when a new message comes through and his heart leaps so high into his throat that he nearly chokes. He peeks at it over the pillow.

913473: yo you’re late dude. like super late! 913473: i figured id let u sleep off the hangover a bit but damn 913473: i aint gonna cover ur ass if the overseer comes knocking. i have enough of a headache. 913473: so get down here!!! 913473: speakin of headache i was drunk as shit last night. dont remember a thing past that crappy monster movie. so ignore whatever embarrassing crap i sent you, k? 913473: and dont tell anyone im a talkative drunk or ill pummel you, nosebleed.

Jamie looks at the messages in disbelief and flops back onto his bed, his thoughts racing. He can’t tell if Butch is lying or not – he knows even if Butch doesn’t remember there was still something different about what happened last night but fuck if he’s going to bring it up now.

He’s relieved, but also disappointed, maybe a little angry – either at himself or at Butch, he can’t tell. He’s shaking, wracked with nerves at the sudden sense that everything might change soon. He can’t handle change – can’t handle much, if he’s honest with himself, but change is the hardest of all. He curls his fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly and trying to resist the urge to pull it out in chunks. He’s losing himself in his worries again when another message notification shakes him out of it.

“Fuck!” he shouts, wishing he could rip his Pip-Boy off his arm and throw it away.

913473: NOSEBLEED GET THE FUCK TO WORK NOW 913473: its boring alone

Jamie feels like he’s actually going to tear his hair out, but he can’t help himself from laughing. He gives in and types out a quick response.

604272: for the love of GOD 604272: STFU 604272: im on my way now 604272: and i didn’t read ur stupid messages don’t worry. too many for me to care

He bites his lip again, his heart twisting uncomfortably in his chest as he writes out one more message.

604272: i don’t even remember much of the shitty movie lol, u know im a blackout drunk

There are a few minutes without a reply and Jamie starts to think maybe he’s fucked it up again, then more messages come through.

913473: u stupid fuckin idiot 913473: what would i do without u 913473: to pick on i mean

Jamie lets out a trembling sigh and gets out of bed, shaking himself free of his worries and tugging on his jumpsuit again. His hands are quivering, probably will be all day with the way his nerves are, but he can handle it.

It’s only as he’s going to leave does he realize he doesn’t have his shoes.

913473: i have your boots btw dumbass

Jamie is terrified of change. He’s terrified of his own emotions, especially when he can’t control them. He wishes things were simpler and he wishes he could have been born into a more agreeable body in a more agreeable time, but as he walks, shoeless, out of the apartment and to the studio space he shares with Butch, he feels a bit comforted in the fact that Butch might feel exactly the same way. Even if shit is messy and he fucks it up, Butch keeps coming back - and that’s good enough for him.

[makomori]

SIX | CONSIDERATIONS

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI x OC

Nishimura Yua has to take her nephew to his first rep practice with the Tohoku Tigers at Shiratorizawa Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi is filling in for the assistant coach on said team.

She’s recovering from a nasty breakup and he’s reeling from a stunning finals loss against the Jackals.

Yua’s drawn to his composure and honesty.

Wakatoshi finds her warmth and tenacity intriguing.

It’s the start of a Brand New Story; can they heal from past hurts and endure new challenges in order to help each other trust and love again?

CHAPTERS

ONE | NEW TERRITORY

TWO | FAMILIARITY

THREE | INTRODUCTIONS

FOUR | OBSERVATIONS

FIVE | THE OFFER

Length: 4.1k words

Wakatoshi finally has dinner with his mom after ignoring her for almost a month. Will he make it through the appetizers without getting lectured?

That's the problem with being the strong one. No one offers you a hand.

Wakatoshi knew he was in trouble.

When he called his mom to ask if he could take her out to Fuki Sushi, she answered with a suspiciously cheerful, "Absolutely; I'll meet you at 8 PM on Wednesday."

He hadn't spoken to her in almost a month— not since the day the Adlers lost to the Jackals. The nervousness he felt made the 15-minute drive feel three times longer. When he arrived, she was already comfortably seated in one of the booths. He hesitated. Her dark gray eyes narrowed when she spotted him.

Yeah, he was in trouble.

She sipped on her water while he settled into the booth. Most places weren't built to accommodate someone as tall as he was, but this was one of the few restaurants that wasn't too bad. He could sit without having to fold himself completely in half. His knees didn't bang into the table either. When he finally looked at his mom, her expression was unreadable.

Ushijima Izanami's dark brown hair was set it its usual immaculate bob. The sharp angles of her hair were reflected in her cheekbones, brows, and eyes. Wakatoshi felt like he was in one of her business meetings. She was the current head of the prominent Ushijima household, and a formidable negotiator. He swallowed. There was no use in prolonging the unavoidable.

"Okaa-san," he began cautiously. "It's good to see you."

Her expression remained inscrutable, and he fought the urge to fidget.

She then folded her hands on top of the glossy menu. When she spoke, her tone was clipped. "Is that all you have to say? 'It's good to see you?'"

He opened his mouth to apologize, but she didn't give him a chance to speak. "Mom—"

"You haven't called in a month."

(He thought about telling her that it's been more like three weeks but thought better of it when he saw the warning look in her eyes.)

She lifted one elegant finger and wagged it in his face. "And you've been ignoring my texts." Another finger joined the guilt trip. "Your dad called, too," she huffed. "He was worried."

Guilt wormed its way into his gut. He had spoken to his dad after the finals. However, the disappointment of his performance still weighed heavily on his mind, so their conversation was brief.

"Oto-san called you. Really?"

"Twice last week." She flipped the menu up and scanned over the appetizers. At least she was still talking to him. It would've been worse if she were giving him the Ushijima silent treatment, which started with a hard stare and ended with a demoralizing statement. He had often been accused of dividing people with his honesty, but he learned from the best.

"How is he?"

"He sounded tired. But he did say that his team is one win away from making the playoffs, so I'm sure he's been busy." Her eyes softened as she tried to hide her smile, but Wakatoshi saw it even in the dimmed atmosphere. It seemed like she had enjoyed speaking to her ex-husband. He made sure to file that away for future use.

"I promise to call him." He missed his dad. Looking back on it now, he's one of the few people who would've understood what he was going through. He'd apologize for his selfishness tomorrow. Right now, he had to put his mom at ease.

"Mom?" He pulled the menu away and gripped her hands gently. "I'm sorry."

She returned his gesture with an assuring squeeze. "I know," she sighed. "I was just worried. Both of us were."

Wakatoshi smiled gently. She had a soft heart beneath that tough exterior. "Moms worry a lot."

She quirked a brow at him. "Because they have stubborn sons."

"Where do you think they learn that from?" He pretended to duck when she swiped at him playfully.

"Don't push it, Toshi."

Okaa-san and obaasan were the only ones who called him that, and it was only when they were truly irritated with him. He felt like he was 10 years-old again and being scolded for taking too many candies from the jar, but he didn't mind. He puffed his bottom lip out and looked at her earnestly.

"Oh, stop it," she sniffed. "I can't stay mad when you do that."

Wakatoshi chuckled. At least he knew he could pull that out as a last resort against her. "I still can't believe that works."

"It won't next time," she threatened. The laughter in her voice told them both that wouldn't be the case. After looking over the menu, they called the waiter over and ordered three servings of the assorted sashimi platter. His mom initially fussed and said that it was too much food, but he assured her that he'd eat what she couldn't finish.

"Will you be home until the season starts?" She sounded hopeful; he didn't get to spend much time in Sendai during last year's off season.

"Yes. I won't be moving back to Oita until the end of September." He was on the road often for away games, but even then— Oita was nine hours south by train. When he wanted to visit, he opted to fly since it was only a three-hour trip. "And Saitou-sensei asked me to help coach a local rep team."

Izanami looked at him in surprise. "Coach?" She echoed.

He nodded. The timing worked out almost perfectly. The V.League season started in October and the rep season would be well into the playoff bracket. The schedules would overlap at some point, and the other assistant coach would be able to take care of things if he were away, but he would do his best to accommodate both. The Tigers had the talent to win, so he hoped they'd make it to the end.

"I've always liked Saitou-san," his mom praised. "He complimented Washijou-sensei's style."

"He was certainly the voice of reason among the two of them." Saitou-sensei tempered the Demon Coach's hardline way of teaching. Their combination of tough love and positive reinforcement was proven to produce championship teams.

"I thought you weren't going to think about coaching until the end of your career."

"I thought so as well," he murmured. "But I couldn't say no to sensei." Indeed, many people found it hard to say no to sensei simply because he was so earnest and passionate about whatever task he set his mind to.

Izanami smiled. "You'll be in your thirties before you know it. Thinking about the future is never a bad thing."

Wakatoshi rubbed the back of his neck. Mom was right; he'd be turning twenty-six in August. He'd always known that playing at this level wasn't something he could do indefinitely. Anyone who played professionally only had a small window to maximize their youth and talents before their bodies eventually started to slow down.

"Losing the finals made me consider a few things." His mom didn't force an answer from him when he paused, as she understood that it wasn't always easy for him to express how he was feeling. "I took the loss harder than I had anticipated. I let my team down." He frowned; embarrassment and remorse laced his tone. "That's why I haven't visited. Or answered your messages. I was disappointed in myself. I needed time to understand how I was feeling."

Izanami's heart ached for her son. Even now, expression was contemplative as he rubbed the pad of his right thumb back and forth along the table's polished surface. The Ushijimas were one of the oldest families in Sendai, having been a part of the ruling class during the Edo period. Along with their reputation for philanthropy, they were heavily involved with many businesses within the city.

For better or worse, they were in the public eye.

Over the years, excellence became synonymous with their name. The pressure could be unbearable at times. That's what drew her to Utsui when they first met; he was free from expectations and it showed in the ease with which he carried himself. She hoped that sense of freedom would rub off on herself and their son, but life had different paths in mind for their family.

Neither of them was faultless in the events that led to their eventual divorce, but she regretted that Utsui didn't have the chance to have a say in how his son was raised. Izanami lived with that regret for years, but she slowly began to grasp that the future didn't have to be like the past. When she placed her hand over her son's, and he looked up at her curiously.

"Wakatoshi— any person would be disappointed after a loss like that. You're human. But our family has always been in the public eye. You've had to deal with pressure and expectations from a young age. And eyes are still on you in that career that you've chosen. You've never complained once. You've worked hard and excelled at everything you decided to try. I couldn't have asked for a better son."

A soft smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. She had little trouble raising Wakatoshi; most of his time was spent studying or playing volleyball. When he first started playing, she often wondered what drove him to practice and play so diligently. But she realized that it was his way of staying connected to Utsui. Despite not being present physically, he was still an influential part of their son's life.

Izanami shook her head. "In hindsight, there was no room at home for you to express any frustration; I should have done a better job at providing a space for that. I'm sorry you felt like you had to go through this loss alone."

Wakatoshi couldn't help his bewildered expression. The last thing he expected from his mom was an apology. If anything, he was the one who needed to apologize for his selfish conduct. He couldn't remember the last time mom had spoken with him like this. Her unwavering work ethic and loyalty were things he always admired about her. She was frightening to everyone outside their family. But he had always been aware of her softer side; she loved deeper than anyone he knew.

Another gentle squeeze from her pulled him out of his thoughts. "I'm getting older, too," she teased. "I've had time to consider some things as well. Please, come to me if you feel like that again. I might not be able to fix all your problems, but I'll do what I can to help."

Wakatoshi was silent as he tried to process what she was offering. He needed people like his mom and sensei in his life to help him understand that he wasn't meant to do everything on his own. He learned confidence and discipline from observing and listening to her throughout the years.

When he searched her face, he suddenly saw the fine lines around her eyes and mouth, along with the strength that still shone vibrantly in her eyes. They were a testament to the life she had led. Being a single mom was difficult. People either looked at you with pity or loathing. She shouldered that negativity and protected him from it so he could live his life without having to worry about what everyone else thought. He owed her everything.

"I will mom— thank you."

She gripped his hand firmly and nodded. Those two words were genuine. They had never needed to say too much to each other to come to an understanding. The reality was that they wouldn't get to spend as much time together as they used to. That was part of the reason why she was upset with him not communicating or visiting. He was living his own life and making something of himself in this world, and she couldn't be happier for him. They would just have to be more mindful about making time for each other in the future.

"So, are you enjoying coaching?"

Wakatoshi grinned and nodded. "I wasn't sure if I would be good at it, but the first practice went well. The team is incredibly talented."

"Excellent," she stated. "You sound excited about them. I've always thought that you'd be able to use your instinct when you started coaching."

He tilted his head. That was interesting. "Why do you think that?"

Izanami folded her arms. "You have a unique perspective as a top player. Yes, most coaches are former players, but not all of them played at the level you're at now. You'll be able to connect with your students personally because you've been in their position. But I think you'll also find a way to explain the thought process behind your talent."

Wakatoshi mirrored her and folded his arms. The reasoning behind her explanation was solid. "I've always been told that I'm unnaturally talented at volleyball."

His mom laughed. "That would be an understatement, my dear."

"I think it's a combination of dad's talent and your discipline." He said after a few moments. His eyes warmed and his voice was gentle. "I wouldn't where I am now if it wasn't for the two of you."

Izanami's breath caught in her throat. She felt guilty for so long about the way her marriage ended with Utsui. He loved her enough to marry into a family that was the opposite of who he was as an individual. But in the end, she couldn't protect him from her family's expectations and strictness. She knew Wakatoshi wasn't resentful about not having Utsui in his life, but she still carried that responsibility with her. Hearing him say that they were able to accomplish something positive in his life despite their divorce— that was enough for her to let go of that weight.

"Wakatoshi that's— I've never thought of it that way. You were so happy every time you played with your dad. I knew that you'd do well in volleyball from the start." She rubbed at the corners of her eyes to stop herself from getting too emotional. "And I didn't understand it at the time, but he was correct in protecting your left hand. You were able to stand out and excel because of his decision."

Wakatoshi agreed. Being different had always been his best weapon. "I'm grateful. Not everyone is able to choose a career they love."

"That's very true." She gave him a pointed look before she spoke again. "But please do everything you can to stay healthy. You're not getting any younger."

He was fortunate that he hadn't suffered any serious injuries since he start playing in elementary school. He couldn't bear the thought of sitting on the sidelines. "Always. Injuries mean that I won't be able to play, and that's unacceptable."

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. Otherwise I'll start worrying again."

"Worrying is a part of your job," he joked. "But I should've spoken with you sooner. I truly am sorry."

Izanami shook her head and waved him off. "I am, too. We'll be learning more about each other as we go along. But it's good to have you home."

They were starving when the sashimi arrived. Mom helped negotiate a better lease with Fukase-san's landlord, so he always wanted to give her free food whenever she ate there. But she was stubborn and insisted on paying because she wanted to support his restaurant in whatever way she could. It was good he wasn't working tonight because the two of them usually got into an argument over comping her meal.

When Izanami updated him on what was happening with obaasan, he remembered the Boswellia supplements sensei gave to him at the end of practice on Saturday. "Could you give these to obaasan? Sensei said it might help with her arthritis."

She took the pills and stashed them away in her purse. "You need to come to the house and convince her to take her medication consistently." He tried not to laugh at her exasperated tone. "She barely listens to me anymore. And then she complains that everything hurts too much. But I'm sure she'll do anything for her grandson."

Wakatoshi smiled at the image of mom and obaasan clashing over this. She was even more stubborn than her daughter. "In that case, I think these might help." He pulled out two bags of sweet and sour Hi-Chews from his coat pocket. "Tell her it's from me. Maybe then she'll feel better about taking her medicine."

"You have a good heart, Wakatoshi," she said with affection. "That's one of the first things I noticed about your dad. He was always helping people in some way."

During the few times they went out as a family, dad usually ended up helping people carry their groceries or helping older ladies across the street; there was something universally appealing about his kindness.

"He said he never understood how people think you're intimidating or unapproachable," his mom continued. Then she sighed. "But that's an Ushijima trait."

"Yua-san said something similar." The back of his neck warmed when he remembered how shocked he felt when she described him as sweet.

"Yua-san?"

"Our team manager," he clarified. "When I met her last week, she said I was sweet."

Izanami's eyes flickered with curiosity. Any mention of a woman in her son's life was always interesting, especially now that he was older. She hadn't been impressed with his last two girlfriends, and she didn't say that out of spite. They were only interested in Wakatoshi's looks, not who he was as a man.

"Her nephew is one of my students. I helped him understand that losing isn't always a bad thing." Wakatoshi continued, unaware of his mom's protective thoughts. "I've never seen anyone react so positively to something I had to say."

Izanami leaned back against the booth. She liked what she heard so far. "Yua-san is a wise woman. There's always more to a person than what they present on the surface. But not everyone is willing or able to take the time to know someone on that level."

Wakatoshi nodded. "Still— she surprised me. No one has ever described me as sweet."

"Like I said, she sounds wise," Izanami mused. "Unlike that last woman you dated. What was her name again? Aoi-san?"

He nearly groaned. He hoped his ex-girlfriend wouldn't come up during their dinner. Or at all. "I'm surprised you remembered her name. You and obaasan took an instant dislike to her."

His mom rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Well, we weren't wrong. She was only interested in your looks. No wonder you two lasted only lasted three months."

"Okaa-san." He admonished. She was unfazed by his warning and gave a look that dared him to oppose her. "The season was grueling last year. I couldn't give her the attention she deserved."

Izanami leaned forward. He did not just try to justify her actions. "You mean the attention she thought she deserved. You said to me several times you felt that you were the only one contributing to the relationship. I heard you say never heard you say once that she reciprocated your actions."

Wakatoshi stared at her. His mouth gaped slightly when the truth of her words finally hit him. In the end, Aoi only wanted to talk about him when it was beneficial for her. She was only interested in flaunting that he was superstar player in the V.League. The fact that they were constantly travelling for work didn't help either. She was a rising model and had an even more hectic schedule than he did. And when they did finally get together, he was usually tired from training or playing games. She was always rearing to go out while he just wanted to rest.

When he looked back his mom, fury was written on her face, but it dissipated after a few seconds. "Forgive me," she said on an exhale. "You're a grown man now, but you're also my son. It's hard not to get emotional about your relationships."

"I understand," he soothed. "You worry because you love me. You're right. Our relationship was shallow. And it was bound to end with how frantic our schedules were."

"Well," Izanami huffed. "I'm hardly qualified to give you relationship advice considering how things ended up with your dad. But I can sniff out a shameless social climber from a mile away."

"I'll keep that in mind." It was his turn to sigh. "But my schedule doesn't seem to be compatible with dating since I'm on the road often." That was something he was concerned about as well. Depending on how his career went, he could end up playing for volleyball leagues in different countries. His family would have to relocate with him when the time came. Being married to a professional athlete wasn't going to be easy.

"That's not true," his mom said declared. "If you're interested in someone, you'll make time for them. You just haven't found the right woman yet."

Wakatoshi shook his head. "There's also that to consider. I don't know what the right woman looks like." That's not true, either. An image of Yua-san and her bright smile flashed in his mind while the intense feeling of their connection snaked up his arm. He could say with certainty that he hadn't felt this way with Aoi or anyone else.

"All you need to do is look out for one thing."

A knowing smile graced her lips. That usually didn't bode well for him. He was hesitant to ask, but he was also willing to take any advice when it came to this area of his life.

"And what is that?"

"Look out for the woman who becomes more important than volleyball."

Wakatoshi blinked. More important than volleyball? It was a part of who he was. Could it be that easy to find such a woman? He rubbed the back of his neck again. "With the way my life is going right now, I don't think she'll show up anytime soon."

Izanami laughed. Now that the challenge was out in the open, it would be interesting to see how things would turn out. "Be careful what you say, Wakatoshi. The universe just might take you up on that."

An hour later they pulled into the Ushijima ancestral manor's expansive driveway. Nothing had changed since his last visit, and he doubted that anything would. This was his childhood home, but he wasn't sure he wanted to raise his own children here. Anyway, he was getting ahead of himself. He opened the car door for his mom and helped her out.

They chatted comfortably until they reached the front door. Wakatoshi wasn't prepared for the warm, giant hug his mom gave him. She was shorter than Yua-san, so he took care not to crush her when he hugged her back. After pulling away, she straightened the patted down the non-existent wrinkles in his overcoat. He grinned. She would always see him as her little boy in some way.

"Please don't be a stranger to your own mother," she scolded lightly.

He tapped his chin. "I can't make any promises now that I'm a coach. The season is going to be terribly busy."

Izanami raised her brows. "I'm sure Saitou-san would agree that your family takes priority," she said dryly. "And you're lucky obaasan sleeps early now. Otherwise I'd make you come in and say hello. You know she loves telling stories."

Wakatoshi grimaced. "Then I'd be obligated to sleepover."

"You can do that next time," she promised. She slid the front door open and moved to go in but paused and turned to face him again. "You're always welcome to come home. Thank you for dinner. It was lovely."

"It was the least I could do. Oyasumi."

Wakatoshi walked back to his car after he made sure she was inside. The drive this time was peaceful. Okaa-san was right.

It was good to be home.

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch11

*rocks in the corner muttering ‘art is journey, art is a journey’*

As you can see I tried something in colour for this chapter and it did not go well.  I just hope the story makes up for it.  A slightly shorter chapter this time and a slightly longer gap where I have used up my head start but there are some meatier pieces coming up.

@willow-salix​ was her usual amazing self with proof reading.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Eleven

The phone on the desk blared into life and Jeff grabbed at it, nearly knocking the device to the floor in his hurry to answer.  It had been hours since he dispatched Scott to Marineville and the wait for news had been agonising.  Every minute that Gordon was missing left him more chilled.  Thoughts of food and drink had been far from his mind, consumed by the worry that something sinister may have happened or that somehow Gordon had moved on and was again missing.  His final whispered promise to Lucille to keep their children safe had been echoing around his head and haunting him.

“Scott?”  He tried to maintain some composure but there was still a slight waver to his tone.

“Plane’s just taken off Dad.  Gordon will be landing at Long Beach in a little under two hours.  Flight code AT2784”

“I’ll head over to meet him.  Goodbye Scott.”  He shut the call off abruptly as emotion threatened to overwhelm him.

For Jeff the call brought a flood of relief but this was quickly replaced by a wave of anger now that Gordon’s safety had been confirmed.  His son’s idiocy and selfishness had caused untold worry, while the deception he had employed in this whole enterprise meant a complete loss of trust.  Meetings had been rearranged, potentially annoying valuable business partners and Wilbur’s internship offer had also expired.  Yet again Gordon had thrown a curveball and hang the consequences for everyone else.

Of all his sons Gordon brought him more stress and worry than the others combined.  If any of his children was going to discredit the Tracy name it was Gordon.  The worst school reports; Gordon.  The only one ever suspended; Gordon.  He had hoped that the boy would soon start showing some maturity but this latest example of recklessness proved that he still had a lot of growing up to do.  

Two hours.  Time enough to get some food and then have the car take him to the airport.  He didn’t think Gordon would disappear again but then he had never anticipated Gordon falsifying documents and attempting to join WASP.  No, tonight he was taking no chances; when that flight landed he would be there ready and waiting.

xoxoxox

Scott pocketed his phone and turned away from the panoramic viewing windows that looked out over the runway.  He had called his father the second the wheels left the ground and now, just a few short moments later, the plane was already a distant speck whisking his brother back to Los Angeles.  The late summer sun was low in the sky by the time he reached his car, his day off was nearly over and he knew that by the time he made it back to base there would be no time for anything except bed.  

The last few hours had been....enlightening.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had spent so long alone with Gordon.  It had been seven years since he had lived at home and his visits had generally coincided with holidays and celebrations, times when Gordon had let his hair down and been like the ten year old kid he used to live with.  He had been fully prepared to go along with his father’s assertion that Gordon was both immature and selfish and needed a harsh dose of reality. 

The Gordon he sat with today, waiting for the flight south to be called, wasn’t like that.  The very last time he had seen Gordon his brother had been trying to eat an entire pint tub of ice cream topped with two bags of M&Ms.  But then the last time he had seen Gordon had been the day after his gold medal win, a day of celebration and blowing off steam after years of hard training.  Irreverent goofballs don’t tend to go on to be world record holders.  

His brother had earned that medal through dedication, determination and the sort of steely resolve he had just witnessed in the young man who had sat opposite him in the airport cafe, sipping on a mineral water, the dirt of the Marineville obstacle course still smudging his clothes.  This Gordon wasn’t a child.  This Gordon had earnt the respect of the WASP assessors and displayed skills and talents that his own family had never recognised.  That Gordon could be considered officer material by anyone had come as a shock but in just the short time he had spent with his brother he could begin to see what they meant. 

His anger, which had dissipated while waiting with Gordon for the flight to board, returned as his father ended the call.  To be dismissed without even a thank you for what he had done was more than a little cutting but then Jeff had always had this unwavering belief that his sons should all do exactly as they were told.  Today he had been just a lackey directed to do his father’s bidding without any consideration to his own needs.  Of course he had done it though, trekked across the state at a moments notice, it was for family after all but another precious day off was gone without any acknowledgement of the sacrifice from his father.  Underneath the anger he realised that part of him was actually a little jealous of Gordon.  He was sure his brother would pay a heavy price for this escapade but he was the only one who had dared to break the mould.  His own route through university and into the Air Force had been heavily directed and while it was a path he had happily followed he reflected that he had never really been given a choice in the matter.

His thoughts turned, as they frequently did, to the idiotic plan that had been presented to the eldest three as though it were a done deal; the rescue organisation manned by a pilot, a former astronaut and two students expected to train up to whatever tasks were thrown at them.  He couldn’t see Virgil ever disobeying their father and John would do anything if it meant he could live among the stars.   The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to give up the life he was making for himself in the Air Force no matter how noble the cause.  Today had shown that he would be forever moved about like a pawn with no thought given to his own needs and he couldn’t face going back to live under the unyielding control of his father.  He resolved to take a leaf out of Gordon’s book and live his own life; his father could find a different pilot for his madcap scheme.

xoxoxox

As Gordon entered the arrivals hall at Long Beach Airport he was not surprised to see the familiar form of his father waiting by the barriers, flanked by his security detail.  Standing ramrod straight and staring at the gate Jeff made an imposing sight but Gordon was too tired to be intimidated, he had been up since dawn and put through his paces and now all he wanted was his bed.  He held his father’s gaze as he walked across the polished tiles then followed to the waiting car looking for all the world like a condemned prisoner.

The journey across town had been completed in silence despite the soundproof privacy screen being lifted, shutting off the occupants in the passenger cabin from those riding up front.  Father and son sat stiffly in the back, the tension palpable and the atmosphere uncomfortable.  Even their initial greeting had been limited to a mere nod of acknowledgement at the airport.  It was only once the sanctuary of the apartment had been gained and the study door shut behind Jeff with a subtle click far too quiet for the mood did the first words finally get spoken.  

“Sit down Gordon.”  Jeff indicated the chair opposite him as he took up his habitual place behind the desk.

“No thank you.”

“I said sit down.  Do you really want to faint in front of me just to prove a point?  You look awful”  The measured tone took on a note of exasperation at the continued defiance.

“I’m fine.”  His legs buckled beneath him all the same and he sat down heavily in the chair.  Thinking back he hadn’t eaten since being presented with the fairly unappetising lunch rations as Marineville, he had been too angry to accept anything more than water from Scott at the airport.

“You are anything but ‘fine’.  People who are fine do not forge documents and run off to join the navy.”

“WASP.” Gordon corrected him.

“Which is still currently under the wider jurisdiction of the World Navy.  However, the who doesn’t really matter.  What is important here is that you lied, you deceived and you disappeared without a thought or care to those around you.  Even Alan knows better than to head off without permission.  When will you grow up and stop behaving like such a child?”

“You’re the one who has been on at me to do something with my life.  You’re the one that keeps telling me to choose a career path and think of my future.  Well that’s what I was doing.  I’d be out of your way and you wouldn’t have to bother about me any more.”

“You’re too young for WASP.”

“I’m not.  I wasn’t the only 17 year old at selection.”

“They probably had permission.  Which is another thing, don’t ever forge my signature again.”

Gordon snorted “You’d best start paying attention to Alan then.”

“And what is that supposed to mean.”

“I’ve been signing his school permission forms for years.  I got fed up of seeing him get upset or getting into trouble.  You were always too busy, you’d get to it later.  Well later was too late one too many times.  So now he doesn’t bother you with them any more, he can do the field trips, the maths olympiads and the science fairs and just show you certificates later.  Or at least stick them to the refrigerator in the hope you notice them seeing as you’re barely here.  Do you even care about us or are we just an inconvenience until we do something that can be shown off to your cronies?  Another trophy you can wave to show how great the Tracys are?”

“How dare you question me, of course care about you all.   I do what I need to do.”

“Yeah, and I’ve done what I needed to do.  You have been more than happy to leave me to look after Alan night after night yet you still can’t see that I’m not a child any more”

“I will not be spoken to like this Gordon.”  The calm facade Jeff had tried to maintain cracked in the face of Gordon’s insolence.  Anger flashed to the surface.  “You are a child and for as long as you live under my roof you will follow my rules.  From now on there will be no more competitions; you may continue to swim for exercise but I will not fund your fantasy career.  I will be calling your coach in the morning and removing you from the squad.  You will spend the rest of your time applying for college places.  Any offers will be vetted by me seeing as you have proved that your judgement is not to be trusted.  Now go and get yourself cleaned up and go to bed, it’s late.”

The chair scraped back across the floor as Gordon stood up with a jolt.

“And the great Jeff Tracy has spoken.  This is why I never told you about WASP, you never listen.  All you care about is your perfect reputation propped up by your model children.  It doesn’t matter what we want as long as it reflects well on you.”

Gordon stalked back to his room, not stopping to hear his father’s reply.  He had left it less than 48 hours previously, full of hopes and plans for the future and now he was effectively a prisoner in his own home.  He threw himself onto the bed and punched the pillows in an attempt to let out some of his frustrations.  

At Marineville he had felt more comfortable than he had done for ages, there was something about the place that just felt right.  Even the loss of competitive swimming was eclipsed by the thought that his chances with WASP had been ruined.  Yet again his father had given the painful reminder as to who was ultimately in control of his life.  Anger gave way to hopelessness and exhaustion and he drifted off to sleep still fully clothed, silent tears mixed with Marineville mud leaving their tracks across his pillow.