#HE DESERVED BETTER. LIKE I LITERALLY WANT TO CRAWL IN THE SCREEN AND PROTECT HIM. I LOVE HIM SM

[nkogneatho]

This is now a Jiang Cheng protection blog. I think we should dedicate our life to love this cinnamon roll and carry him in our pocket everywhere🩷

[imagineredwood]

“Are you up?”

Summary: You and Angel have broken up and while it was somewhat mutual, you miss each other desperately. He does his best to stay away, feeling that you deserve better, but when you send him a needy late night text, he’s on his way to remind you what you’re missing.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x reader

Warnings: Sexual content, Oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk mild praise kink,  you name it honestly lol 

Word count: 3k

***Here’s another story that I decided to write from an idea that’s plagued me for literal months lmao. Not requested.***

You sighed as you laid in bed, filthy thoughts consuming your mind. You were needy, not having been touched in over a month. You and Angel had broken up and you had been trying to move on from that. It had been somewhat mutual, though it fell more on your side for both the idea and the execution. He had gotten more and more busy with the club, which meant less and less time for you. As a result, you had become more needy, and Angel had become more frustrated. It had come to a head when you had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to get back from his run, only to find out the next day that he gone straight to the clubhouse with the boys and gotten drunk without even thinking to send you a text or call.

You had made up your mind then, deciding that even though it was going to hurt to throw away the last year of your life with the man that you so desperately loved, you needed to split. And Angel had agreed, though it had torn his heart out to do so. Truth was, he was scared. He was falling more and more in love with you each passing day and he had gotten scared. What if he wasn’t good enough for you to stay? What if you found someone better? What if you came to the realization that you deserved better? And so, he had tried to protect himself. To shield himself from the pain o rejection and abandonment which he had become so familiar with. At the time he had felt that the best way to do that was to put distance. To create a wedge where at least he was the one in control. He had pushed you to the edge and when you had finally had enough, he tried to convince himself that he was better off.

Slowly it dawned on him that not only was that not true, he had sabotaged probably the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had found someone that loved him, supported him, looked after, and took care of him. Yet he threw it all away in the name of misguided self-preservation.

And it did not take long for the realization to kick in.

He had been a ghost since. He wasn’t as bright as he was when he was with you. He had bags under his eyes, surviving off of booze and cigarettes. It had taken a scolding from Taza and Bishop for him to finally sit down and have a balanced meal.  

You hadn’t been much better. Angel had at least been able to shed some his pain in the arms of the club girls though, while you had not been with anyone. You wanted to; to go out and receive some attention and affection even if it was only for the night. Yet you could never manage. Angel had been your first. He was the only man you had ever known intimately. So you had chickened out at last minute on taking home the tattooed man you had been flirting with tonight.

But now you were alone, aching for the touch of a man. For the feeling of being covered by a body as they did what they wanted with you. The feeling of being filled and loved on.

You were aching for the feeling of Angel.

How his lips felt on your neck. How his ringed fingers felt when they pumped inside of you. How heavy his cock felt when it was filling you to the point of seeing stars. How far he stretched you. How empty you felt when he finally pulled out to go to sleep. You were aching for that.

Plainly, you were aching for Angel.

With a sigh, you sat up grabbing your phone. It was late, but not late enough for him to be asleep. Typing swiftly, you sent him a quick text.

‘Are you up?’

You were honestly not even expecting a response. Yet not only did he respond, his answer came back before you could even put the phone down.

‘Yeah. You ok?’

At the clubhouse, Angel was quickly sitting up straighter, his heart picking up speed as he worried something had happened to you. He stared at the screen for a few more agonizing seconds, waiting to see your response.

‘I’m fine. You busy?’

‘Nope.’

‘Do you wanna come over?’

Angel sat still in disbelief. Was this a test? Angel had thought that he had ruined his chance with you forever. That there was no way you would ever settle for him again. Yet you were inviting him over? He wasn’t sure what for, but he was not about to complain. The phone buzzed in his hand and he read your newest message five times over.

‘I need you’

He was up and out of his seat then, rushing out of the clubhouse in a hurry, the others looking at him in confusion.

“Where you going, homie?”

He didn’t answer them, typing his reply out.

‘On my way.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

The sound of Angel’s Harley pulling up into your driveway was something you thought you would never hear again. It made butterflies take flight in your tummy, your heart starting to speed up, your thighs rubbing together in anticipation.

Unlocking the door and pulling it open, you watched as Angel walked up to you, his eyes glued to yours. He stopped when he was in front of you, his hands holding onto the sides of his kutte. Little did you know it was because he was trying desperately not to reach out and touch you.

“Hey, querida.”

“Hey.”

You pulled the door open further for him to walk inside. Locking up behind him, you turned to find him standing there, eyes on you. Neither of you spoke as you walked up to him slowly. Angel looked you over, his throat bobbing as he looked at your attire of a shirt and panties. He looked closer, feeling his heart clench as he saw at what shirt you wore. It was the old one you’d had for years that he had sprayed with his cologne for you to have while he was on a run. After you had broken up, he figured you would have thrown it away, burned it maybe. Yet there you were wearing it. You caught his gaze and then looked down to follow it.

“I…I was missing you.”

Angel had planned to keep his hands to himself, let you initiate, but your words broke his self-restraint. He took another step forward, sliding his right arm around your waist while his left hand came up to hold your chin softly. His voice was soft and quiet, yet husky.

“I’m right here.”

You nodded, your own hands coming up to hold his waist. Leaning toward him, you pressed your lips against his, both of you closing your eyes as you relished in the familiar act. Your hands slid up his body, coming to rest on his chest. Angel placed his hands over yours, growling at how they engulfed yours. You continued to kiss, both your mouths and hands growing more and more needy. You clutched at his kutte, missing the sound of the leather as it rubbed in your grasp. Angel on the other hand was grasping at your ass, his hands running over your hips, lower back, and thighs.

He had been with club girls after the breakup, and while they were all gorgeous and worthwhile, they just weren’t you. They didn’t rile him up the way you did, and he knew now that it was because of the love he had for you. Love that went deeper than just having a girl on his arm. That knowledge had scared him at first, but now it only made him hard.

He let you pull his kutte off his shoulders, tossing it over onto your couch. His hands continued to roam over you, both of you making out as you stumbled to your bedroom, shedding clothing along the way. By the time you were standing at your bed, you were entirely naked, Angel finally shedding his boxers. You both stood there bare, chests heaving from the lack of air. He was reaching to cradle your face then, his eyes honest as they look at you.

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do whatever you want.”

You nodded gently, reaching up to his face as well. You dragged your index finger along his bottom lip, watching as it pulled down before bouncing back into place. He always did have a sinfully good mouth.

“I want your mouth on me. Please.”

The please was not really necessary. Angel would have done it no matter how you asked him. He nodded and placed his hands on your hips, turning you. You assumed the position you had been in so many times before, crawling onto the bed on your hands and knees, letting your cheek rest against the sheets with your ass propped up high. Angel did not skip a beat, climbing up behind you, his mouth kissing along the backs of your thighs. His hands came up, grasping your ass and massaging it. Part of him wanted to tease, but the majority of him just wanted to give you everything. To give you his all until you were a wet, trembling mess. He wanted to make you feel how sorry he was for letting you go and hopefully get you back.

Angel slid his hands down, his thumbs pressing to either side of your pussy before pulling outward and spreading you. He cursed as he looked at your opening, your wetness sticky and slick as it coated you.

“You always did have such a pretty little hole.”

Your breathing was already picking up speed before he had really even touched you and it made Angel feel good to know that you needed him as much as he needed you. He kept you spread open, leaning closer to lick into you. He groaned at the taste of you, not realizing just how much he had missed it.

“You taste so good mami, fuck.”

Your whimper paired with feeling your pussy clench around his tongue made him smile. You always did like him giving you dirty praise. Scooting even closer to you, he reached up and placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing it gently as he kept working his mouth on you. His beard added to the sensation as he buried his face into you. Your hips began to swivel on their own, pushing back onto his face and earning a moan from him that made a shiver run through you.

“There you go, good girl. Use my mouth, baby.”

And so you did, softly pushing back on him, your eyes closed, and your bottom lip caught between your teeth and you rubbed yourself against his mouth. He kept doing his own thing though, strengthening his tongue so he could bury it in you. It did not take long for your thighs to begin shaking, your moans low and drawn out as you called his name.

“God, Angel, don’t stop. Please.”

Angel kept at it, slipping two thick ringed fingers into you until you were clenching and squeezing, slowly collapsing flat onto the bed. Angel kissed along your back and sides, working his way up your body slowly, letting you catch your breath. He stopped at your shoulders, speaking into your ear.

“You still on the pill?”

“Mhmm.”

Angel nodded and then sat up some, looking down at you.

“Do you want it like this?”

Turning your head, you laid it sideways so you could look at him over your shoulder, giving a nod. That was all Angel needed, sitting back up to kneel behind you. He grabbed himself and ran the tip through your lips, gathering your wetness before he placed himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, placing his hands down onto the mattress beside your head, holding himself up as he sunk into you. He shuddered as he stayed still, trying not to cum right there from how warm you were. You felt like home and he wanted to make sure you knew that.

“You feel so fucking good, mi dulce. So perfect.”

He began thrusting then, slow deep strokes. He pulled out nearly all the way before sinking back into you fully once again. The slow pace was not was you needed though.

“I need you to fuck me hard, Angel.”

“Ok, baby.”

With that, he sat back up, staying on his knees, and grabbing your hips to arch you. He tugged you back, your body at an angle as he had your pelvis on his lap. He pushed back into you then and started a bruising pace, your ass jiggling from the force. He looked down between your bodies where you were connected, watching as your pussy gripped him. How his thickness stretched you. How you lifted off just a little whenever he bottomed out, that last inch just a little too deep. Your whines and pants were music to his ears and his mouth started on a roll.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, mi vida. You always look so good taking my cock.”

Angel’s hips slapped against your ass as he pounded you, your brows knitted in pure ecstasy. Reaching underneath you, your fingers danced on your clit, Angel growling as you got tighter around him from the added stimulation. He reached down and pulled you up, not wanting you to have to do anything. He wanted you to just enjoy it while he ruined you, making it a point to remind you of what you were missing in hopes that you would forgive him for his stupidity and take him back.

With you both kneeling straight up now, Angel wrapped his left arm around your shoulders, holding you upright to him while his right slid down between your legs. He rubbed at your clit firmly, his mouth on your neck as he stroked the sensitive little pearl. You whimpered, the metal from his rings cold and shocking on the sensitive flesh. He could fill you at a different angle this way and fucked you hard, staring at your face with adoration as your mouth dropped open, feeling another orgasm approaching fast.

“There you go. There’s my baby. Come on me again. I know you can, mami. Let me feel you. Good girl.”

Your moans devolved into a sob as you came for the second time, Angel hissing as your pussy squeezed around him almost as tightly as your hands squeezed his forearm. He slowed his thrusts, pushing into you languidly as he let you come down some. Your whimpers were high pitched and whiny, signs that you were already feeling slightly overstimulated. Angel was not done with you just yet though. He slowed his pace down some but kept the depth, his mouth to your ear as he continued to fill you, his hand leaving your clit and coming up to press against your abdomen.

“You feel me? Right here deep in your tummy, mi amor? That’s where I belong. Right here.”

He caressed the soft flesh above your mound as you reached behind you to hold the back of his head. You didn’t respond verbally, too fucked out to put together a sentence. You simply nodded and whispered his name like a prayer, your eyes full of love and longing as you looked at him. He went for you clit one last time, rubbing you softly not to hurt you. You came once more without much effort, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes when you did. It did not take much more of that to make him cum as well, his warmth spreading through you as he filled you up to the brim.

He laid you down then, falling to lay spooning behind you as you both tried to catch your breath. You were both spent, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Angel groaned quietly as he felt the small aftershocks run through your walls, milking him for everything he had.

You both stayed laying there until your breathing had returned to normal, Angel starting to pull out slowly. The sensation forced a hiss from him, his cock sensitive. Your tiny whimper told him that you were in the same boat. He took a deep breath, brushing back the hair that had fallen into his face from the exertion. He sat up, looking down at your body, seeing the white streak of his cum dripping out of you and he reached over to run his fingers down your spine.

“Let me help you get cleaned up.”

Sitting up yourself, Angel looked at you, swallowing nervously.

“I uh, I know this is really not the best time but I just gotta get this shit off my chest.”

Your nod was unsure as you looked at him.

“I know I fucked us up. I got scared and I ruined something good. I don’t deserve you and I get scared that you’re gonna realize that one day, so I pushed you away. You deserve someone better than my ass, but I really want you back, if you want me.”

Locking your eyes with his, you saw all the emotions he had worked so hard to keep you from seeing in your relationship.

The fear.

The worry.

The insecurity.  

He was being open with you. Letting down his walls and being vulnerable, which was all that you had really ever wanted. With a sigh, you stood on shaky legs, Angel standing with you quickly to steady you. You traced his tattooed chest with your finger before looking up at him, finding his face looking like that of a scared child.

“I have to know that you’re not gonna run when shit gets bad.”

The Mayan nodded quickly, grabbing your hand, and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss your fingers.

“I swear I’ll never do it again.”

You continued to look at him for a few seconds more before nodding.

“Okay.”

Angel’s head nodded as well, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

“Okay.”

General taglist @piccasoe​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @gemini0410​ @woahitslucyylu​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @that-chick212​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @glimmerglittergirl​​ @elcococruz​ @fanaticfangurl21​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @encounterthepast​ @iambabyharry​ @svintsandghosts​

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24​ @angelreyesgirl​ @wrcn9fvlcver​

[generallynerdy]

One life, I thought—a thousand deaths (Jon Antilles & Fay)

Summary: On Queyta, Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the only one to escape Durge and Ventress. One of the four legendary Masters, Jon Antilles, emerges from a lava stream despite knowing he’s going to die. He’s so sure of it that he crawls his way to Fay’s side, wanting to spend his last moments with the woman who he considers his Master. But she has other plans. Plans to make certain that Jon Antilles lives past today.

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, On-Screen Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, there’s both sorry, Self-Sacrifice, The Curse of Immortality, holy shit i made myself sad dude Word Count: 2,191

Prompt: Angstpril Day 2 - Sole Survivor

Author’s Note: listen I know nobody knows about these characters that are in literally one comic but I have FEELINGS about them okay?? Jon is meant to be a badass mysterious enigma but he screams sad boi and Fay is like...the greatest cryptid Jedi ever, I love her. So, of course, I decided to make them and Knol and Nico suffer. (Also I know Obi-Wan survived the mission but the Sole Survivor still applies because Jon is the sole survivor of the four legendary Masters, just in case that wasn’t clear.) I just finished this today, so the editing is minimal.

Read on AO3

*

Using the Force as a shield is, in theory, one of the easier skills a Jedi utilizes. That is assuming, of course, that the Jedi in question is in good health, a decent mental state, and isn’t under a severe amount of stress. If said Jedi is, say, three feet into a pool of lava, already bearing grievous injuries and the weight of the deaths of two close companions, and feeling the fading life of another, the simple task, understandably, becomes something of a problem.

Jon has finally managed to pull the Force around him like a blanket. It protects him from the bubbling lake around him now, but the first few seconds he couldn’t pull it off were torture.

As it turns out, lava burns. It burns like shame, like failure, like the nightmares Jon used to have about his Master abandoning him on a planet in Hutt space for getting just a little too mouthy. And it hurts nearly as much.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He makes a rule of not cursing, but right now feels like an appropriate time to break it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He claws at the charred remains of his robes. Contrary to popular belief, lava doesn’t melt initially, as Jon now knows. Instead of melting, he burst into flames for the few seconds it took to pull himself together, though they felt like an eternity. Red, throbbing burns litter his entire body, his hair singed but miraculously intact thanks to his hood, which is entirely ashes now. The pain consumes his thoughts, making his shielding start to flicker in and out.

And then, through the debilitating agony, a touch of something familiar.

Jon’s eyes fly open. “Fay,” he whispers.

Her light is dimmer than it should be, not flickering in and out mischievously like it usually does. But still, she makes an effort to reach out, to check on him. It sends a sob up his throat.

“Hold on, Fay, hold on.”

Clenching his fists, he opens himself up to the Force. His actions are ones of faith, not of desperation, and he lets it flow through him as he takes a deep breath. The idea of using one of his Master’s abilities would normally make him nauseous, but the disgust doesn’t even cross his mind this time as he prepares to teleport. He thinks of that open, flat space of rock that Obi-Wan and Fay ran to, their enemies close behind. Focusing fiercely on that distant image, he pulls on the Force and folds the two points—

Jon collapses on solid ground with a heaving gasp.

Every inch of his body protests the change, especially his knees, which burn when they make contact with the ground, but somehow he manages to ignore his own complaints.

Fay isn’t far, or she shouldn’t be, at least. The distance between them seems gaping when he tries to move.

Still, her light is fading fast. And he wants to be by her side.

So, Jon Antilles crawls on hands and knees, dragging his body across sharp stones and past bubbling streams of lava. He aches with each movement and cries out when it becomes too much, but he persists regardless. Something in him knows it may be the last thing he ever does.

Finally, he sees her.

She’s sprawled out, her chest hardly moving as her breathing becomes shallow. Her near-golden hair is filthy with ash and her eyes are dim. She’s hardly herself, Jon thinks, and feels his stomach sink.

Hundreds of years the great Master Fay has lived and breathed. Hundreds of years and he’s going to watch her die today.

“Jon,” she calls out weakly.

He pulls himself to her side, grabbing her hand with his own shaky ones. “I’m here, Master.”

They only met when he was a teenager, but he feels as if he’s known her all his life. They’ve travelled the Outer Rim together, following the Force, for decades now and he’s never regretted a second of it. In all but title, Fay is his Master. She was always better than Dark Woman, even when the bar was six feet under. The only record with both their names will be at the Temple, where the dead are listed, a handful of mission reports with other Jedi, and the stories the younglings share of the 4 legendary, nomadic Masters.

“Knol and Nico,” Fay breathes out, “they’re one with the Force.”

Jon grimaces. “Yes. And the Force is with us.”

She laughs, breathy and half-choked. It’s an old lesson, familiar and grounding. “And so too are they,” she adds.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?”

“Gone, with the cure.” She smiles just a little. “The Republic fights another day.”

Suddenly grim, he squeezes her hand. “But not us.”

A pause.

“But not us.”

The silence overwhelms them. The wind whistles in the distance, carrying with it nothing but smoke and ashes. Queyta isn’t the best place to die, Jon thinks absently. He would rather it have been someplace with flowers.

“I wish it could’ve been Jedha.”

He almost jumps at her voice, but her words jarr a surprised laugh from his sore lungs. “Jedha? I thought you hated cold planets.”

“Oh, yes, but not that one. Force, I should have taken you. The Force there is so...so strong, so pure, you can feel the kyber from the surface,” she explains, staring straight up at him. If anyone else were to gaze so intensely at his scars, he’d be uncomfortable, but she’s safe. She’s family. “And the Guardians of the Whills are so kind. I met a young one of theirs some decades ago. You two would’ve gotten along.”

Jon laughs a little. “You’re always looking to find me friends, Fay.”

Her smile turns sad and she lifts a hand to his face, letting it rest on his cheek. “You’re so young,” she whispers. “Too young to be so lonely, Jon.”

He shuts his eyes, lets himself be comforted by her touch. When he opens them again, she still has that gut-wrenching look on her face. He places his hand on top of hers, unsurprised at how cold they are despite the blistering heat.

“I’m not lonely,” he promises.

Jon doesn’t say that it’s because of her, Knol, and Nico, but Fay picks up the thought anyway. Her eyes fill with tears.

“I have watched so many I love die.” Fay’s voice wavers as she says it. He realises that it’s the first time he’s ever heard it do that. To be honest, he’d thought it was impossible. “Taken by age, by Darkness, by foolishness. Never have I met a soul as good as yours, Jon. And never a Jedi so worthy of love.”

“Fay…”

She shakes her head. “Your Master did not deserve you. The galaxy did not deserve you.”

Pulling her hand away from him, Jon squeezes it. “You did,” he says firmly, though his voice cracks.

“I hope so,” she admits with a rueful laugh. “I hope so.”

He smiles weakly. “I wish you’d found me first. But I thin-I think the Force knew when I needed you to save me. Because you did save me, Master. I could never thank you enough.”

She takes his word silently, holding his hand even tighter. “You never needed to.”

“Thank you,” he says now, even though it’s useless.

Fay’s grey eyes meet his pale ones and suddenly, she’s distressed. “You’re so young,” she repeats.

But Jon can see that she means something else this time.

“Not too young to do my duty.”

“Too young to die doing it.”

Jon thinks of Tan Yuster, one of four Padawans to die on Geonosis. The Jedi have experienced great loss these past months since the beginning of the war and so many so much younger than Jon have died in battle, the clones included. Of course, to Fay, they all may as well be children.

“I will go proudly into the Force,” he promises her. At your side.

Fay’s expression twists. “No.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think we have a say in it.”

“The Force let me live this long,” she says suddenly, as if it’s a realisation, “longer than I should have. Obi-Wan is gone, I’ve done what good I can, except...you’re here. Why are we here?”

“To say goodbye,” Jon offers.

She shakes her head, then tries to sit up, struggling until her would-be Padawan helps pull her up. “I’m done with goodbyes.”

“What are you—?”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his question. Fay presses their foreheads together and grabs his hands with a newfound energy that terrifies him. Chills go up his spine when her presence in the Force covers him like a blanket. Warmth climbs up his hands, then his arms, and with a glance down he finds that his skin is healing.

“Fay, no!” he cries, trying to shove her away.

She only tightens her grip. “Stay still, Jon.”

She sounds more like herself, certain and unwavering. Jon would be happy-crying if he weren’t horrified. He tries to drag himself out of her grip, but she’s impossibly strong. Her healing creeps up his entire body, soothing his burns, though scars remain behind.

“No, no, no—FAY! Fay, stop it!” His screams turn to sobs. “You’ll die, stop—!”

“I already am,” she says, just as certain in her abilities as her fate. “But you don’t have to.”

Trembling, his attempts are weaker now but still there. “Please, please,” he begs. “Not without you!”

Tears stream down her cheeks. She allows herself a moment of weakness; she opens her eyes and meets his tearful gaze, remembering the teenager she first met. He was so scared and so brave. And for a moment, she’d thought he must be a ghost. But no, he was just a boy. For the first time in a long time, she had let herself build a bridge between them, like Knol and Nico before him, even knowing she would have to watch him die one day.

Now, she thinks with fierce stubbornness, she won’t have to.

It feels like her life is leaving her for him, though she knows it’s just fading into the Force. It’s to it that she speaks, the cosmic energy she’s dedicated her long, long life to.

“If anyone is deserving of the time you’ve given me,” she gasps out, “it is Jon Antilles.”

She doesn’t see the horror in Jon’s face, but she can feel it in his quiet Force-presence, so subdued. He hides himself on purpose and it truly breaks her heart. His light is so strong. The galaxy is all the better for his existence.

“I don’t want this! Fay, I don’t—let me die, please—”

Fay only lifts her head and kisses his forehead, the sort of gentle gesture a mother might give her son. “One day,” she promises. It rings with truth, with the strength of the Force behind it. “But not today.”

Jon cries out and tries to rip himself away, but freezes when pure light washes over him. The warmth he’s always associated with Fay soaks into him, healing all his wounds in an instant and rejuvenating his fading energy. Stars burst before his eyes, like he’s seeing into the very universe beyond Queyta, beyond what he’s meant to see with his petty Human eyes. In another instant, it’s gone and Fay is slumping over.

She falls to the ground with a thump, a noise that jolts Jon back into focus.

“Master!” he sobs.

He pulls her up from the ground with the sickening realisation that she’s a complete deadweight. She’s limp in his arms, already paling. Desperate, Jon pushes her hair out of her face and finds...nothing. Her eyes are dull. With his fingers on her wrist, he can’t feel a pulse.

“Fay?”

The steady beat of her Force-presence is gone, a gaping hole in his universe. Their bond, one strong enough to resemble a training bond, is shattered, a physical pain that throbs in his skull.

Jon begins to hyperventilate, his sudden gasps for breath burning his now-perfect lungs.

“Come back,” he begs Fay’s corpse. “Fuck, please. Please, come back.”

He pulls her into his lap, clutching her robes like a child being left behind for the first time. It doesn’t hurt to move anymore and, thank the Force for it because his entire body shakes with the force of his cries.

Overwhelmed with grief he’s never experienced, Jon wails into Fay’s shoulder, rocking back and forth. The agonizing sound rings across the valley, a noise like torture.

It’s only now that he feels the frayed edges of his bonds with Knol and Nico.

He screams again, his vocal cords protesting it sharply.

The last time Jon was this alone, he was a child. And now, he’s right back where he was before he met his three closest companions. Except now, now, he knows what it means to love and to lose. It aches. It aches like nothing he’s ever felt.

“Please,” he whispers hoarsely. “I can’t—I need you. What do I do? What am I supposed to do?”

He never gets an answer.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Streetlight

F/M Pairing: OC x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Warnings: Angst (this is kinda sad at the beginning); fluff; mild language 

Genre: Family AU; Haven Sequel; Strangers to Lovers

Word Count: 7.8K

Summary: For a long time, Changbin’s priorities were centered around the need to take care of Y/N and the rest of his adopted family. However, as their dynamic has continued to evolve, he starts to feel like they no longer really need him. So, maybe Changbin feels a little bit lonely these days, but that all changes when he meets a mysterious stranger who wants to take care of him instead.

A/N: Like Haven itself, I really love this one. Special thanks to the anonymous user who requested this! I wish I could tag you.

Whenever Changbin found himself questioning why he was forced to endure the monotony of a 9-5 desk job with no reprieve, including outrageous weekend hours and overtime, he was always reminded of his family and a persistent desire to take care of them. It was a sound justification for putting up with the rude customers who took one look at his superintendent badge and immediately targeted him as the subject of their endless complaints. For example, they might say something like, “The packaging is all wrong!” or, “The shipment label should be 152 instead of 151!” and, his personal favorite, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

In those instances, Changbin would paste on his best fake smile and kindly tell those customers that, yes, he did have some inkling of what he was doing, even if he sometimes doubted himself. After all, his job wasn’t that hard, but it was demanding of his time and efforts, and Changbin was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t meant for a customer service position. But quitting would mean jeopardizing the success and good-fortune that had befallen his family during recent weeks. It would mean risking their overstock of food and secure funding for Felix’s college classes. It would mean forcing the younger members to work, or exposing Minho to more hours at the warehouse.

That certainly wouldn’t be fair to Y/N who had come to form a very strong dependency on Minho, even if their relationship had been a major shock for the rest of the family when it was first discovered. The circumstances surrounding the revelation weren’t exactly ideal, and Changbin had been a little hurt that Y/N felt the need to hide something like that from him. She had come a long away from the shy pre-teen who would snuggle next to him at night and tell him about her dreams for the future. 

His heart would sometimes ache for those days because it was nice to be needed. Changbin had a people-pleasing personality, and he often formed strong bonds with those that he cared about. But his love for Y/N was especially strong, and Changbin wondered if Y/N ever missed those nights when she would crawl into Changbin’s bed and ask him to protect her from those horrible nightmares.

It sometimes made him sad when he realized that Y/N didn’t need him like she used to when she first arrived at the house. In the same way that most of his family members had outgrown their childish stages, maturing into young adults who were starting to become independent. Even Jeongin and Seungmin had reached that stage where they could handle themselves, attending school during the day before coming home and isolating themselves away from the others.

In fact, when he really thought about it, most of his family members would spend the majority of their time according to whatever fascinated their current whims. Thankfully, Chan had decided that Friday nights would remain exclusive, and Changbin might be lucky enough to have Y/N crawl into his lap, or one of the other members cuddle close to his side - where he would like to have them for the rest of their lives because it felt nice to keep them safe.

“Excuse me, young man, but is this really the best you can do on stamps?”

Changbin sighed at the interruption, studying the elderly woman who had disturbed his thoughts. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said. “We don’t sell anything else.”

The old woman scoffed at him before walking away, and Changbin wondered what Y/N might be doing at that moment...

It was late when Changbin found himself trudging down the hallway, ignoring the sound of Jisung whining about how Changbin had bought the wrong kind of snacks. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Jisung, especially when the younger seemed to have forgotten that Changbin took the long way home just to buy those snacks for him in the first place. Instead, Changbin just wanted to curl up in bed and go to sleep because he had another early shift tomorrow, and it made him feel extremely unmotivated to endure another day of his shitty office job. 

In fact, what Changbin really wanted was Y/N, but when he paused outside of the bedroom that she shared with Jeongin and Seungmin, he could hear the sound of laughter coming from the other side. Changbin took a deep breath, cracking the door open just enough to see Minho and Y/N lying in bed together, watching some sort of video on one of the laptops that belonged to the older members. Changbin swallowed hard, closing the door again before he walked up the stairs and found his room at the other end.

He paused for a moment, looking back at the empty staircase, and wondered what the others were doing since nobody else bothered to greet him when he came home except for Jisung. Consequently, there was an unpleasant sensation swimming around his heart, and Changbin tried to ignore it as he walked into his bedroom, shrugging off his jacket before falling into bed still dressed in his work uniform. For a moment, Changbin was perfectly quiet, even while his mind was loud and refused to give him a moment of peace. 

But then he eventually identified what those unpleasant feelings really were, and he hadn’t felt it this profoundly since before his own father kicked him out of his house: it was loneliness. Changbin felt alone in a house full of 8 other people, and when the realization finally settled, Changbin felt a stray tear fall down the side of his face. Because it hurts to feel alone.

It was a struggle then, when he glanced at his alarm clock, vision blurry from the salty wetness that continued to steadily leak from the corners of his eyes, and he could barely perceive the time displayed on the screen. Nevertheless, Changbin had been experiencing a lot of trouble falling asleep in recent weeks, and tonight seemed like it would be another restless plight of tossing and turning. But when had this started? Changbin couldn’t really pinpoint the exact moment when his life started to feel like it was falling apart - like he was losing everything that he had once treasured.

Honestly speaking, even before his stupid job, Changbin had felt like shit because Chan was constantly on his ass about staying at home all the time. It wasn’t even his fault, but it felt like Chan was determined to break him - to pressure him so far that he would literally split in half from the constant push and pull. Then again, Changbin had always experienced moments when he felt like there was nothing he could to prevent his most depressing thoughts. Maybe it was really because of his past - his terrible childhood and his rotten excuse for a father who decided that Changbin didn’t deserve his love or affection. 

Yeah, maybe he had some daddy issues, but he also had to watch his own mother die when he was eight-years-old. For a while after her death, Changbin felt like there were huge parts of him that was left empty, and it had taken an awfully long time to fill those places again. But his family living with him at their precious Haven helped a lot because he was able to occupy his time with taking care of others. But Changbin had also learned how to put on a mask of indifference and pretend that he was okay when he felt unusually sad. Maybe he had gotten so good at pretending that he had started to fool even himself.

Perhaps it was finally catching up to him.

Changbin shook his head, wiping away the tears as he rolled onto his side. His eyes explored the darkness of his room until they settled on his nightstand where he paused on the little stuffed Munchlax that sat next to his lamp - a gift from Y/N after he had stayed up with her for an entire week when she had the flu. “I’m beary grateful,” she had said, giggling with childish delight when she first offered him the gift.

It seemed inconsequential at the time, but Changbin had always treasured the little gift, and when he brought it next to him in bed, he could pretend like it was Y/N. He could remember the nights when she curled up next to him, sharing secrets that she never told anyone else. He could feel a little bit better when he was feeling down, and Changbin savored the beautiful moment of peace that the stuffed plushy brought him before he closed his eyes to sleep.

The next morning, Changbin slept through his alarm, and there was a small part of him that desperately wanted to just ignore his responsibilities for one day and remain warm beneath his bed sheets. But life had different plans for him, especially with Bang Chan in charge of the house. “Get up,” Chan said, and Changbin grunted when he felt the older pull the sheets into the floor. “I thought you had a morning shift.”

“I do,” Changbin grumbled, and he cursed under his breath when Chan finally left the room.

Changbin sighed when he realized that the potential for more sleep was completely gone, and he was forced to shower and dress himself before walking down the stairs. It was too early for most of the members, but Changbin greeted Chan and Minho as he dropped down into one of the kitchen chairs. “Coffee?” Changbin asked, looking over at Chan.

“Hyunjin broke the damn thing,” Chan said. “We’ll have to wait until this weekend to go shopping.”

“What an asshole,” Minho remarked, and Changbin nodded his agreement.

“We’re making a list,” Chan said. “I get my bonus check tomorrow, and we can decide on what needs to be replaced.”

“The hot water heater should be a priority,” Changbin said. “I only had enough for a ten-minute shower.”

“How long do you need?” Chan asked, and Changbin snorted because he knew that Chan would only agree to make expensive purchases when he decided that they were, indeed, absolutely critical. “What do you think, Minho?”

“Y/N and I usually take showers together,” he said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

Chan immediately voiced his complaints, explaining to Minho that neither he nor Changbin wanted to hear about their exploits. Changbin especially was still not used to hearing Minho or Y/N talk about the explicit parts of their relationship. But Minho was always perfectly willing to share.

“Add condoms to this list,” Minho continued. “We’re almost out.”

“Come on, Minho,” Chan muttered, but he still wrote down the request. “I’ll think about the hot water heater.”

“You two decide,” Changbin said, rising from the table as he grabbed his keys off the counter.

“You’re not going to eat?” Chan asked with a worried tone, but Changbin chose to ignore him as he walked outside onto the porch, inhaling the fresh, morning air before approaching his car.

The old van was unreliable, but Changbin didn’t have much of a choice when it came to his preferred choice of transportation. They were lucky enough to find the van on sale at a price that they could afford, but it was still hard to find used cars these days that satisfied their budget. And Changbin spent ten minutes jostling his keys in the lock before he managed to open the driver’s side door, turning over the ignition three times before the van offered a half-hearted rumble.

On most days, Changbin was forced to cross his fingers that the old van would get him to work and back without falling to pieces. Changbin rolled his eyes at the thought of bringing it up to Chan because the least he could do was allow Changbin to bring it to a mechanic. There was definitely a problem if the check engine light stayed on 24/7.

“Please don’t leave me stranded,” Changbin said, easing backwards out of the driveway before gently navigating the van along the back roads that he had plotted out since he couldn’t handle the highway.

He briefly recalled when he first got the van because it was a “shiny” new toy for the younger members to savor, and both Jeongin and Seungmin used to beg Changbin to take them for rides at night. And he could never refuse them, gliding up and down the roads while playing their favorite music over the terrible sound system. But the younger boys loved those occasions, and they often talked to Changbin about any sort of worries or concerns that plagued their minds. 

Like the time Jeongin had a problem with another kid in his class who picked on him for the clothes that he wore. At first, Changbin tried to satisfy Jeongin’s insistence that new clothes would solve everything, and he dug into his savings account to buy him new jeans and shirts. But, of course, the bully only found something else to tease him about, and Changbin couldn’t stand the way Jeongin would start crying when he told him about how much his feelings were hurt. Which is why, on an unforgettable spring morning, Changbin defied Chan’s orders to stay out of it and drove Jeongin to school only to confront the bully in person. Apparently, the kid was so upset by Changbin’s words, that he told the school officials, and Changbin and Chan had to apologize to the kid’s parents for the mishap.

However, that little shit certainly never bothered Jeongin ever again.

Changbin smiled at the recollection. Even if Chan had been furious with him, he had never regretted his actions. It was just one story that he had of many concerning the members of his family, and the lengths he was willing to go to ensure their happiness.

Even at the cost of his own.

“Excuse me, but I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes!”

Changbin sighed, shouldering aside the poor customer service aide who was clearly out of his league trying to help the middle-aged woman who was seconds away from demanding to see the manager. “Hi,” Changbin said, hoping that the frustration that he felt wasn’t evident in his tone. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest, cocking out one hip in a posture that clearly screamed privileged. But Changbin didn’t have the authority to throw this woman out for causing a scene inside the post office; instead, he’s forced to listen to her complaints for another ten minutes before he finally offered a compromise that satisfied her audacious demands and allowed him to keep his rational sanity.

“Have a nice day!”

“We’ll see about that,” the woman muttered, and Changbin quickly made the decision to take one of his mandatory breaks even though he only had an hour left on his shift. 

“Bitch,” Changbin grumbled, walking into the back room and sitting down on one of the chairs surrounding his office’s snack machine. “Who the hell ate all of the M&M’s?” Changbin whined, and he wondered, not for the first time, if the universe was conspiring against him.

He settled for a candy bar, checking his phone for any messages, but he wasn’t surprised to see that nobody had reached out. The only people who would try to contact him were his family members, but they knew that he was working. But it still made Changbin feel sad for reasons he couldn’t totally figure out, and he didn’t have enough time to wrestle with complex feelings that made him question whether he really wanted to go straight home after work.

However, when his shift finally ended, Changbin was driving down the same backroads that he always endured, shuffling through the three radio stations that the van managed to pick-up including some sort of EDM station, Country Music Today, and the Classical Hits. Yeah, it wasn’t the best selection, and Changbin distinctly remembered having more options when he first bought the stupid thing.

But he also should’ve known that having such negative thoughts would never lead to anything good, and Changbin was already cursing when he felt the van start to shake and refuse to budge over 25-miles-per-hour. Consequently, Changbin was forced to pull over on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere with questionable cell service. “Son of a bitch!” he shouted, slamming his hands against the steering wheel before he opened the door.

At that point, Changbin was fed up with everything, and his emotions were bordering on the edge of volatile as he kicked the driver’s side door, growling when he realized that he had left a dent behind in the metal. “Stupid fucking piece of shit!” he yelled, slamming his hands down on the hood before he unlatched the metal piece keeping the damn thing from flying into his windshield.

Immediately, a huge cloud of smoke erupted in his face, and he failed to waft the offending spray away from his eyes which started to burn as a result. “What the fuck?” he grunted, squinting as he tried to figure out where the smoke was even coming from. He wasn’t a fucking mechanic, and his limited knowledge made him doubt that he should be messing around with the little black lid that, perhaps, had something to do with the engine...

“Are you okay?” a gentle voice inquired from somewhere behind him, and Changbin turned around in surprise.

For a moment, Changbin was rendered speechless, looking the unfamiliar stranger up and down before he realized something quite profound: she was beautiful. “Uh...” Changbin trailed off, pointing at his van. “I broke down.”

“I can try to give you a jump,” she offered, and Changbin nodded his head while the woman smiled. “Has this happened before?”

“Not like this,” Changbin said, watching her return to her own car, and no, Changbin was not staring at her ass.

“It’s probably the radiator,” she explained, wrapping the battery cables around her arm. “But I can look at the engine for you.”

Changbin nodded, watching the kind stranger sit down behind the wheel, attempting to turn over the ignition with no luck. “It’s not the battery,” she said. “Believe it or not.”

Changbin shrugged. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“That’s fine,” she said, giving him one of the most genuine smiles that he had ever seen. “I can help.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Changbin said, and he stood aside to allow her access to the van’s plethora of interesting offerings under the hood.

“My name is Sara by the way,” she said. “I’m a mechanic downtown.”

“Really?”

“My brother actually owns a shop,” she explained. “I can have it towed there for you. Free of charge.”

“F-free?” Changbin stuttered because he knew that those kind of services cost more than a pretty penny, but Sara seemed perfectly indifferent.

“Yeah.” She laughed, raising her arms above her head and exposing a sliver of skin at her stomach. “Is that okay? I can also take you home.”

“Oh!” Changbin remarked like the intellect that he was these days. “There’s no need for that, I can call someone.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, fetching her own phone from a loose pocket. “I’ll call the office and send for the tow truck. My brother does work for pretty low prices, and I think he can save your car for you. As long as you’re okay with that?”

“That would be great!” Changbin said. “I mean, it’s been a while since it’s had anything done.”

Sara nodded, holding out her phone for Changbin. “Just give me your number. We can call you and keep you informed, and we won’t do anything pricey without your permission.”

“Thank you,” Changbin said, quickly adding his phone number under the new contact option. “You’re literally a lifesaver.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said, leaning against the side of the van. “Do you live around here?”

“Just down the road,” Changbin said, dialing Chan’s number before holding the phone up to his ear. “But, seriously, I’m really grateful for all of this.”

“Please, don’t mention it,” she said. “You looked like you were having a rough day, and I know how that feels. Like, when the whole world seems like it’s falling down around you, the last thing you need is something like this to happen.”

Changbin chuckled, finding himself enamored with the way Sara liked to chew on her bottom lip as if in deep thought. “Yeah,” he said, hearing Chan’s voice reach out to him from the other end. “But it’s not always bad.”

Changbin called Chan to come pick him up after Sara made arrangements with her brother to tow the van to their shop downtown. She smiled at Changbin and reassured him that everything would be handled. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” she said, and Changbin didn’t know how to respond to that because it had been a long time since someone wanted to take care of him.

She eventually left after Changbin reassured her that Chan was on his way, but he could still see her lingering around her car until Chan finally pulled over to the side. “Hey! Get in already!”

Changbin closed his eyes, and quickly made himself comfortable in the passenger’s seat after Chan’s embarrassing comment. “Just drive,” Changbin muttered.

Chan obeyed, pulling back onto the road before letting out an irritated sigh. “You said on the phone that you took care of the van,” Chan said. “How much will it cost to have it towed?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing!?”

Changbin smirked. “I met someone who offered to have it towed for free. She’s bringing it to her brother’s shop downtown.”

“A mechanic’s shop?” Chan asked. “We can’t really afford anything outrageous...”

“She said that she would call when they found the problem,” Changbin said. “We don’t have pay anything unless we have the work done.”

Chan scoffed, reaching up to adjust his mirror. “If it’s something to do with the engine, then we might as well have the damn thing sent to the junkyard. We’d have more luck buying something else.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed absent-mindedly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Sara. “Did you buy the stupid snacks Jisung asked for?”

“I bought what you sent me,” Chan replied, and he sent Changbin a look that said: if it’s wrong, then it’s your fault!

“Thanks for helping out,” Changbin muttered sarcastically, and he resigned himself to looking out the window for the remainder of the trip home while Chan continued to talk on and on about possible options to replace the van. It wasn’t that Changbin was ignoring him, but he had heard enough about their troubles to last him a lifetime. Chan also liked to take everything to the extreme, and Changbin was usually left to deal with the repercussions.

In any case, the sight of the house was an enormous relief as Changbin all but threw himself out of Chan’s car, escaping another needless lecture. He could see his bedroom window from the front lawn, and he longed to escape to his room and pass out in the quiet darkness. However, Changbin should’ve anticipated that the rest of his family would all be downstairs after catching wind of his incident with the van on the side of the road. And the first person to speak out was Jisung, who called Changbin into the living room, eyes glowing with the reflection of the TV screen.

“I heard the van finally gave out,” Jisung said, sitting up on the couch and dropping the remainder of his potato chips into the floor. “Shit!”

“Jisung!” Chan snapped, propping his hands on his hips like he was some kind of middle-aged mom who was about to reprimand her son. “Clean up that mess!”

“Fine,” Jisung groaned, and he followed Changbin into the kitchen. “Ya! Are these my snacks?” he asked, snatching the bag from across the counter.

“That’s all I’ve been hearing about for an entire week!” Hyunjin remarked, and Changbin realized that the kitchen was almost completely full of his house mates.

Y/N smiled, standing next to Minho as she reached out to tug on Hyunjin’s sleeve. “You’ve been complaining just as much.”

“No, I haven’t!” Hyunjin protested, and Changbin despised how loud it was while he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Especially when Jisung’s displeased whine managed to overwhelm all of the other white noise.

“You brought home the wrong snacks again!” Jisung whined, and Changbin must’ve worn out the last reserves of his patience at the post office and on the side of that stupid back road when he abruptly turned around to confront the younger man.

“Why don’t you drive your own lazy ass to the grocery store and buy whatever the fuck it is that I can’t seem to find!”

“Changbin!” Chan gasped, and there was an immediate silence that followed his outburst as most of the members looked at him with matching expressions of shock. 

“I’m tired,” Changbin excused himself, even knowing that it was a lousy thing to say in place of an apology. But he didn’t need to hear Chan speak another word, and hadn’t Changbin endured enough drama for one day?

Instead, Changbin walked upstairs, and he could finally breathe again when he re-discovered the solitude of his bedroom, and there were already tears forming at the corners of his eyes when he collapsed on top of his bed. It had been a while since he really cried, and Changbin rarely showed any kind of weakness around the other members because he was the second oldest - and there was an expectation that he should be strong for everyone else, even when he was screaming on the inside.

But there was only one other person in the entire world who had ever truly seen him break down - and she was standing in the doorway, looking at him with eyes that reflected her understanding. “Changbin?” Y/N whispered, closing the door behind her as she crawled into the bed next to him.

“Yeah?” Changbin murmured because his voice was muffled by the pillows. Even so, Y/N didn’t hesitate to lay down next to him on the bed, pressing herself as close as possible considering the limited space.

“You’re not okay,” she remarked, and Changbin shook his head as one arm wrapped itself around his waist.

“I didn’t mean to snap at Jisung,” Changbin said, and Y/N simply nodded as she held him even tighter. 

“It’s not your fault, okay?” Y/N whispered, and Changbin nodded, looking at her fondly while he managed to prop himself up on the bed.

“It was a long fucking day,” Changbin said. “I hate that stupid van.”

Y/N smiled. “At least Chan has no choice but to fix it, right?”

“Or buy something else,” Changbin remarked, and they were both silent for a while. But Changbin didn’t mind the quiet. After all, it was everything that he wanted ever since Chan had picked him up on the side of the road.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Y/N eventually requested, and Changbin’s stomach twisted at the thought of opening up and exposing his darkest feelings - the loneliness that he felt these days, and the stupid reason why he missed having the younger members want something more from him other than cheap snacks.

“I don’t know,” he said, deciding to settle on a different version of the truth. One that still made him look strong without having to reveal the weaknesses clawing away at his insides.

“Well,” Y/N said, “when you figure it out, you can always talk to me.”

Changbin nodded again. “Are you staying with me tonight?”

There was an intolerable level of desperation in his tone that made him wince, but Y/N wasn’t the kind of person who would judge. “Yeah,” she said, rubbing her hand along his stomach. “I’ll be here.”

Changbin sighed because Y/N would never understand just how much those simple words meant to him. Because sleep suddenly came much easier, and Changbin allowed his eyes to close while wrapped around Y/N.

Later on, Changbin woke-up without much warning to an empty feeling in his stomach, and he realized that he had skipped dinner. Subsequently, he managed to make his way downstairs to the kitchen, finding the leftovers from dinner waiting inside the fridge. His stomach growled, and Changbin reached for the bowl, examining the contents inside before he walked over the microwave. 

“You want to tell me what your little tantrum was all about?”

Changbin sighed, glancing up at Chan as he stood behind him wearing a familiar scowl. “Not really,” Changbin replied, punching the buttons on the microwave.

“Jisung wanted me to let you know that he’s sorry,” Chan said. “But I don’t know why he’s the one apologizing.”

Changbin shrugged, sliding a hand through his hair while forcing himself to meet Chan’s stern gaze. “What do you want me to say?”

“Is it because of work?” Chan asked. “Do you need to take less hours?”

“No,” Changbin lied, startling when the microwave began to beep in succession. He grabbed his food and held it against his chest. “I don’t really think work is bothering me.”

Chan’s shoulder dropped as his expression softened. “Did Y/N talk to you?”

Changbin nodded. “Look, I’ll apologize to Jisung when I come home tomorrow.”

“He’s sensitive,” Chan said, even though Changbin already knew that. “Did they say when the van would be ready?”

“I think Sara said something about this weekend,” Changbin responded, and he took a bite of his food without really considering what he had just told Chan.

“Sara?”

Changbin winced. “Yeah, the girl who helped me earlier.”

“Ah!” Chan acknowledged. “I guess she made an impression.”

“She was really nice,” Changbin said, and Chan sent him a look that Changbin couldn’t quite decipher. In fact, it almost made the atmosphere between them awkward, and Changbin cleared his throat. “I’m going back upstairs.”

“Okay,” Chan said, and Changbin quickly retreated from the kitchen before he was asked any more questions.

On his next day off, Changbin received a voicemail from Sara that told him the van had been inspected. He was invited to the shop so that he could hear the full report for himself in person. It was a seemingly mundane business exchange, but Changbin found himself bursting with excitement when he walked inside the main office, discovering Sara standing behind the counter.

“Hey,” Changbin said, trying to act cool by stuffing his wandering hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“The van might not make it,” she replied with an apologetic look. “When’s the last time you had it inspected?”

Changbin cleared his throat, looking at the ground when he shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

It was a sheepish response, and Changbin expected to hear some kind of lecture about the importance of vehicle safety. Instead, she laughed at his disregard, leaning against the wall with a wide smile. “I kinda figured, but that’s okay.”

Changbin drew in his bottom lip, chewing on the raw skin as he thought about something cool to continue their conversation - maybe something that could allow him the rare honor of hearing that beautiful laugh again. “Its not something we prioritized,” Changbin explained.

“We?”

“The people I live with,” Changbin elaborated, studying the interesting way that the sunlight managed to form a halo of sorts around Sara’s soft brown hair.

“Oh? Kinda like housemates?” Sara asked, and she pulled a file from the heavy stack of folders waiting on top of the counter. 

“You could say that,” Changbin agreed.

“I think it’s interesting,” Sara told him. “Do you wanna see the van? We can talk about it inside the garage.”

Changbin nodded without hesitation, and Sara led him out the side door which brought them to the attached metal building. It smelled like gasoline and rubber - plus an assortment of other scents that he could only associate with a place like this. And he spotted the van in the very last spot, looking worse for wear with its peeling paint and general abuse. 

“So, you definitely need a new radiator,” Sara explained as they paused next to the van. “But I also found a lot of things that need replacing: tires, battery, back-up lights, windshield, and maybe some of the plugs inside...”

“Really?” Changbin asked, and he didn’t need to know a damn thing about cars to understand that all those repairs would cost way too much money.

“I can give you a discount,” Sara said. “I don’t know if it’ll help much.”

Changbin sighed, pulling up the sleeves of his t-shirt as a nervous habit. “I don’t think we can afford it right now.”

“Well, there’s always other options,” Sara said, perfectly understanding. “We actually sell used cars across the road. I’d love to offer you something at a good price. Maybe we could set-up some payment plans to help with your budget.”

Sara may actually be a literal angel, Changbin thought to himself. “Can I see them?”

“Of course,” Sara said. “It’s just across the street, and if you want, we can stop inside the convenience store for some drinks. My treat, of course.”

Changbin looked at her like she had just solved all of the world’s greatest problems. Because he couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him, nor could he think of a moment in time where he felt the peculiar tugging on his heartstrings. Almost like something completely novel was opening up right in front of his eyes.

“Sure,” Changbin agreed, and that’s how he spent the rest of the day next to Sara’s side, perusing a wide selection of perfectly suitable replacements for the van while talking about anything and everything that had nothing to do with cars or the predicament of Changbin’s financial situation. Instead, Sara surprised him by asking about the things that most people wouldn’t care about - which do you prefer? Long walks on the beach or an overnight stay in a mountain cabin? What do you fear the most? Do you have an opinion on the toxicity of celebrity culture?

That last one surprised Changbin, especially when he realized that Sara was basically a living and breathing genius. It made him realize that they were a lot alike in that regard - judged because of their occupations, but they were actually so much more than what people might perceive. He was only rapidly coming to the conclusion that he really liked Sara. A lot. More than he ever thought possible considering their brief introduction.

Maybe it was some kind of fated connection - the type that everyone wanted to experience. It wasn’t exactly love, but then again, Changbin knew that love could be felt in different ways. For example, the love he had for Y/N wasn’t comparable to these foreign feelings that he only expressed around Sara. In the same way that Changbin’s love for his mother was nothing like what he had for his family members. 

Ultimately, Changbin thought that there was, at the very least, a possibility of something with Sara, but was he willing to pursue it? Because this something might take a lot of his time and attention, and would his family be okay if he wasn’t giving them 110% of his effort and dedication? More importantly, was he brave enough to even try? Did he deserve it?

There was too much to think about, and Changbin left Sara at the mechanic’s shop with a simple promise that he would talk to Chan about buying another used car to replace the van. In the meantime, Changbin could only think of one person who might help him sort through these confusing feelings.

Likewise, Changbin made sure that he beat Minho home, finding Y/N in her basement bedroom reading alone. He knocked once on the door, alerting Y/N to his presence. “Hey,” Changbin said.

Y/N smiled. “You were gone a while.”

“There was a lot to discuss,” Changbin said, schooling his expression before meeting Y/N’s gaze. “Will you take a nap with me?”

Y/N glanced up in obvious surprise - because she wasn’t used to hearing Changbin ask for things like this, especially after the revelation of her relationship with Minho. “Okay.”

Changbin was relieved by her easy, and unquestioning, compliance. But that was one of the best things that he liked about Y/N - she always knew when she needed to ask questions versus when the moment called for contemplation. And in this moment, Changbin needed Y/N to have a lot of patience with him, curling up together on their sides as he met her gentle gaze somewhere in the middle.

“I met someone,” Changbin said, looking over at Y/N as she gazed at him with a complete look of understanding. “We’ll, we’ve met before, but today was different.”

“Binnie,” she cooed, leaning in close so that their foreheads were touching. “Do you have a crush on the mechanic?”

Changbin scoffed, moving away while Y/N giggled at the rosy color decorating his cheeks. “I don’t have time for crushes.”

“Why not?” Y/N asked, and her smile was gone in exchange for a far more serious tone. 

“I don’t know,” Changbin said. “I’ve got to help take care of the house.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, and Changbin closed his eyes because he was suddenly exhausted. “Changbin,” she finally said. “I hope you don’t mean that you can’t have someone special in your life just because of us.”

“No,” Changbin said, but there wasn’t much conviction behind that one simple negative, and Y/N definitely knew that he was lying.

“Hey,” Y/N said, forcing their gazes to meet. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Changbin shivered. “Noticed what?”

“You look really sad these days, Changbin,” Y/N whispered. “I don’t know why, but you keep trying to hide it from us.”

Changbin studied the raw intensity in Y/N’s gaze, and it was a powerful force - capable of knocking down all those cruel walls that he had built around himself. “I just want to keep you safe,” he said, feeling the promise of tears sting the raw skin around his eyelids. “But nobody really needs me anymore.”

“Changbin,” Y/N said, but it was just a simple intonation of his name, free of judgement. It said so much with so little, and it let him know that Y/N was shocked by Changbin’s confession, but she wanted him to elaborate and explain himself without interruption.

“For most of my life,” Changbin said. “I was pushed aside and treated like shit. It happened with my father, and I’ve had to face criticism from my bosses and those assholes I lived with before coming here.”

Changbin sighed, closing his eyes. “I just wanted to be accepted, and I never felt that until Chan let me stick around. Instead of being pushed away, everyone welcomed me with open arms, and they genuinely liked having me around because they needed me. I didn’t even have to pretend to be someone better.”

Y/N nodded - her only acknowledgement - before Changbin continued. “I knew you guys would grow up one day, but it started to feel like I wasn’t really needed anymore. I guess it might sound stupid, but I really do feel lonely sometimes when I come home from my shitty job and there’s nobody around to really say anything.”

And there it was - his true and honest feelings were exposed for Y/N, and he laid perfectly still as she ensured that he was finally finished with all that baggage that he had been carrying around on his shoulders. “Binnie,” Y/N finally said. “I’m sorry that you felt that way because you don’t deserve it, and I would never invalidate your feelings and tell you that you had no reason to feel a certain way. It actually makes sense to me, which is why I’m really glad you said something. Because you like to keep your feelings bottled inside, and I hate to see you suffer when you do.” 

She sighed, reaching for his hand to connect their fingers. “Just because we’ve grown up,” Y/N said, “it doesn’t mean that you suddenly matter less. I mean, without you, we wouldn’t be this happy, and you contribute so much to that happiness. And I’m not just talking about your job.” 

Changbin swallowed, placing his hand over his chest because his heart was suddenly beating so fast. “I miss the people that I live with,” he said. “How is that possible?”

“You’re feelings don’t have to make sense,” Y/N said. “But they matter because it’s you, and I want to do everything to help, and I’m sure the others would feel the exact same way.”

Changbin nodded, slowly, and he wasn’t sure what to make of all those feelings just sitting out there - raw and vulnerable, but he was also quite certain that he could trust Y/N. “I’ve never felt like this while living here,” Changbin said. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Let’s just start by talking like this whenever we have problems,” Y/N whispered. “You might think I’m pushing you away, but you’re still one of the only people who understands everything that I went though before I came here. Nobody can replace the level of comfort I feel with you.”

Y/N’s words were heavy, but not in a suffocating kind of way. Instead, it felt like a warm embrace, and Changbin just managed to hold back his tears at the sincere expression. “Thank you, Y/N,” Changbin finally said. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“I might know something,” Y/N said, and her voice suddenly took on a teasing tone. “Is she pretty?” Y/N asked, and Changbin couldn’t fight his smile.

“She’s beautiful,” Changbin said, and Y/N laughed with her usual playful inflection as she leaned in closer.

“We could go on double dates,” Y/N whispered, and Changbin laughed at the innocent smile stretching the corners of her lips. “But, seriously? Don’t hide these feelings from any of us, Changbin. We all care about you, and maybe it’s time we return the favor after all those years of letting you protect us.”

Changbin nodded - it was all that he could manage. “That might be nice.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed. “I think so too.”

And then they were both quiet after that - resigned to these new and confusing feelings. But they had each other to figure them out, and that was enough for Changbin to feel completely unburdened. 

Changbin called Sara on a Sunday afternoon - the only day of the week when he wasn’t required to work at the post office. He knew that the mechanic shop was closed, but Sara was perfectly willing to meet him. “I think we’re interested in the SUV,” Changbin told her over the phone, and Sara was just fine scheduling an appointment.

That was over an hour ago, and Changbin hesitated at the sight of Sara waiting near the entrance to the main office. Because, unlike what he suggested over the phone, there was something else that Changbin planned to ask her, and it was scary to think about what might happen. Especially if she told him no.

But Changbin was an adult, and he didn’t plan to spend all day cowering in Chan’s car, so he met Sana outside with a smile that he hoped wouldn’t give away his nervousness. “Hi,” Changbin said, holding up a hand in greeting.

“There you are,” Sara said, and she looked nothing short of elegant in her dress pants and blouse - like she had gotten all dressed up for this occasion. “Are you ready?”

Changbin nodded, and he spent the time that it took for them to make their way across the street to reorganize the chaos of his rampant thoughts. Meanwhile, Sara had grabbed the keys to the SUV that he wanted to buy, and she was busy opening all the doors to air out the stuffy interior. “It’s fairly updated,” she told him, demonstrating the power windows and bluetooth radio system. “What do you think?”

“It’s better than the van,” Changbin admitted, and it was nice that there weren’t stains all other the leather upholstery.

“I think it’ll make a worthy substitute,” Sara agreed. “We’re selling it for $4,500, but I’m willing to negotiate the price, especially for you.”

Changbin glanced up at that because his heart had skipped several beats at the idea of Sara doing something for him. “It would really help us out,” Changbin said. “You’ve been amazing considering everything that’s happened.”

“Yeah, well, I can tell that you’re worth the extra effort,” Sara said, and Changbin couldn’t believe his ears because it sounded too good to be true. Almost like Sara was flirting with him.

But maybe this was the opening that he had been looking for...

“I’d really like to make it up to you,” Changbin said, and he hoped that those words sounded sincere instead of something akin to a business deal.

“Really?” Sara asked, flashing him a warm smile. “What do you mean?”

“If you want,” Changbin said, pausing for a moment to exhale. “I’d like to take you out sometime.”

“Oh?” she grinned, leaning against the SUV next to him, and Changbin could feel her soft breath since they were suddenly very close together.

“I’d really like that,” Sara replied, and Changbin’s shoulders fell at his relief upon hearing her confirmation.

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked because he was always doubting himself. “I mean, you don’t have to-”

“Changbin,” Sara interrupted, taking another step closer to the point where it felt like they were sharing the same air. “I want to be with you, and I’m glad that you asked me because I don’t want this to be nothing more than a mechanic helping out a customer. Do you understand?”

Of course, he did, but that didn’t stop Changbin’s stomach from doing somersaults while he desperately tried to compose himself. “How do you feel about double dates?”

Sana laughed at that, and, for the first time since before he could remember, Changbin felt completely at ease.

[saharamae21]

Nothing Else Matters - Drew Starkey Imagine

Hey guys! My friend @ilovejjmaybank was having a bad day, so go show her endless amounts of love. She is an incredibly lovely person and deserves the world. This one’s for you, Natasha!

Word Count: 900+

Warnings: None?

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Drew knows you better than anyone else does. He spent months trying to break down the walls that you had built up in order to protect yourself. He knew that everyone in your life had stepped on you and cut you down. He knew the barriers that surrounded you were from years of trauma and mental abuse.

The house you grew up in was filled with mind games. I was the kind that only one kid comes out unharmed. The other or others are left behind, broken and scared. You were one of those children. No matter what you never seemed to do the right thing. No matter how badly your brother messed up, you were still the one that had to deal with the consequences. Growing up in your house was almost like psychological warfare and you definitely had some sort of PTSD from the whole experience.

Drew was patient with you. He knew how quickly your moods could swing. He knew that you were delicate. Whenever he even sensed something was bothering you, he would shower you in all of your favorite things. Your favorite foods would be on the table before you even asked. He would put blankets in the dryer just so they were warm for you when you wanted to watch netflix. Everything you could’ve ever thought of, he would have already done.

Today was an especially challenging day for you. You had spent an hour on the phone with your mother trying to figure out plans for the holidays and it hadn’t gone well. Every time you said anything, she would tell you that your brother already planned to do this and that. There was no pleasing her. On top of that, you had a horribly stressful meeting at work today. The presentation was all wrong and your boss was ready to have your head on a stick, so you spent all afternoon trying to fix it. Then on the way home, you just wanted to stop to get food for dinner when someone ran into your car, causing the bumper to dent inwards.

When you finally got home, you just wanted to talk to Drew, but he was still at his shoot. Realizing that you were alone was the final stressor that caused you to break down. You changed into sweatpants and crawled into bed, tears hitting the sheets in large quantities. You pulled the blankets up over your head and let everything out. You were crying so much that you didn’t even hear Drew walk into the front door.

Upon entering, he knew something was wrong. You were always in the main room of the apartment you shared when he came home. Even on bad days, you would sit on the couch, burritoed in blankets. Today, you were nowhere to be seen. However, he could hear your faint sobs coming from the bedroom. His heart ached at the sound of you so upset.

Carefully, he opened up the door and pulled the covers from over your face. Your eyes were red and puffy and you hated when he saw you like this. He sat on the edge of the bed next to you and gently wiped tears away from your face with his thumb. He didn’t say anything because he knew you too well. He knew you would tell him anything you wanted him to know and he never wanted to force anything out of you. You could see the worry on his face as he stared down at your sobbing state. You knew the tears weren’t stopping anytime soon, so instead of trying to contain them, you slid over and gave him room to lay next to you.

As soon as his back touched the sheets, you were in his arms. He pulled you into his chest and placed kisses all over the top of your head. One hand found its way to the small of your back and just rested there. The other held your head to his chest and carefully stroked through your hair. These small gestures made you slowly feel more relaxed. On top of everything else, he whispered how much he loved you into your ear. He told you that he would be here for you know matter what was bothering you.

Finally, when the tears had stopped and you had calmed down a little bit, you began to tell him everything that went wrong with your day. He would tell you not to worry about the car because he would just buy you a new one. He told you that work can be stressful and he was so proud of you for how you fully dedicate yourself to literally everything you do. And the last and most important thing he would tell you is that you pick your family. He would tell you that he was your family now and that you didn’t have to put yourself through that if you didn’t want to. He would always be there for you. You tear up a little bit at the sentiment and he instantly thought he had said something wrong. It was the opposite though. He had said everything right and you knew at that moment that he was the only thing you needed. You leaned up and kissed him, telling him you loved him too, telling him thank you. From there, you two cuddled all night. He played with your hair and put on your favorite tv show. You just laid there and watched the screen, but your attention was elsewhere. Instead of the tv audio, you only listened to the sound of his heart beating in his chest. It was the most comforting thing to you. Nothing else mattered because you were focused on the love of your life laying right next to you.

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[kenzieam]

Druid - The Final Chapter

Rating: M (smut, language, violence, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @lancefvckertvcker-blog @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes  @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221  @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw  @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess​ @everythingisoverrated​ @allmyfanficfaves​  @clarabella960   @angryschnauzer​ @wowspideyholland​  @smilexcaptainx​ @shirukitsune​ @chook007​ @laketaj24​ @brujademente​

If you want off this list, send me a DM

Thank you, my lovelies, for your kind words and support XOXO

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Okay... so it has been over a year since I updated this story....

Bad, Bad, Bad Me....

I’m sorry, my lovelies, I hope you’ll accept this offering, the final chapter of James and Levi and the Druids MC.

Since it’s been so long, catch up with the Masterlist

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JAMES

When I return to our room, Sable and Nat are there. Sable sits cross-legged at Levi’s back, while Nat sits in front of her, holding Levi’s hand. Levi’s asleep and I’m met by two pairs of tear-filled eyes.

“You make him pay?” Nat asked, her voice breaking.

I nod, not willing to elaborate. Although that fuck deserved every single second of agony I gave him, I’m not the kind of twisted bastard that gets off on doing shit like that on the regular. He hurt mine and he paid, I delivered punishment tenfold back to him and now it’s done. I will kill to protect my family and die to save them. The dichotomy is not lost on me and I know the average person would look at me and condemn me as the worst of men, one that justifies murder in defense of family; kills someone’s child to save another’s. But I’m not ashamed of it. This is a hard life, and from a young age, I’ve been part of it. It’s a part of me and if the people I love are made safer by me getting my hands dirty, so be it.

I would never, for anything on this earth and beyond, hurt Levi or cause her pain. She is more important to me than anything else in my black heart.

And right now, I want nothing more than to lay beside her and let her presence bring me peace.

I stride past the bed and into the bathroom, pausing long enough to grab fresh sweats and a shirt from the dresser, shutting the door behind me. I reek of smoke and something much more organic and I scrub myself half-raw under the scalding spray.

When I leave the bathroom, Sable and Nat are still there, but they stand up quickly, hurrying to give us privacy. Both women startle me by walking up to me and pressing quick, chaste kisses to my cheek.

“Thank you.” Sable murmurs and Nat nods wordlessly in agreement, then they turn and leave silently, pulling the door closed behind them. I follow, locking it and turn back to Levi. She’s still asleep, but her face is tensed, her brow furrowed. I’m about to text Stitch to bring more painkillers when she shifts slightly and whimpers.

“James?” Her hand jerks slightly, questing, looking for me and I clamor quickly under the covers behind her, carefully pull her close to my chest.

“I’m here, baby.”

Her body goes liquid again, all tension disappearing, and she gives a soft, contented sigh.

“I love you.” I manage to choke as I bury my face in her hair, my heart breaking wide open with emotion; filled past bursting with devotion and love for this woman.

LEVI

Pain wakes me, throbbing in my shoulder, my leg, my wrists. A whimper escapes before I’ve even opened my eyes and I feel the warmth behind me shift suddenly.

“Levi?” James leans over me carefully, his beautiful eyes wide with concern. “Where does it hurt?”

I’m tempted to say everywhere, but James looks so distraught I decide not to torment him. “My wrists, my shoulder.”

A flicker of darkness passes through his gaze; fleeting, banked rage but it’s quickly gone, replaced by worry. “I’ll text Stitch.” He rolls away and my body mourns the loss of his familiar heat and security, then he’s back, tapping at the screen with one hand, the other snaking cautiously around me again. The phone buzzes back almost immediately.

“He’s on his way, he was about to wake us up anyway; he says you’re due for another shot.”

I consider refusing, asking for something milder, over-the-counter, but the throb has morphed into an outright stabbing and I decide to stop being a hero.

A knock at the door, and James gets up, gifting me with a view of his perfect ass and back, clad in low-hung grey sweats and a white tee as he walks to the door and opens it.

Stitch steps past, zeroing in on me and moving to the side of the bed. I hear James pass, and the bathroom door shut, then Stitch is asking me all kinds of questions; Rate my pain, stabbing or aching? Any heat or tightness to indicate infection? He seems satisfied by my answers and is drawing up a syringe when James reappears.

“You hungry, doll?”

I nod and Stitch agrees. “Yeah, something light though, Prez.”

James nods and kisses my forehead, glancing at Stitch, who nods in answer to his silent question. As James leaves, the medic glances down at me. “Okay, I know Prez can be a mother-hen, is your pain worse than you’re letting on?”

I can’t stop a chuckle. He’s right; big, bad Cannon knows how to cluck. “No, it’s what I said.”

Stitch nods. “That shot will help, I know you don’t want to be completely drugged out.” He jerks his chin to the bathroom. “You need to go? I’ll wait out here then check your bandages.”

His hands are gloved when I return, and I sit back on the bed quietly while Stitch becomes all business, carefully inspecting my shoulder before moving to my wrists.

“Stitch?” I ask quietly, not sure I want to know. “How was he? While I was gone?”

Stitch glances at me quickly before dropping his attention back to my wrists. “Honestly? Broken. Never seen him like that before. He was completely focused on finding you, to the detriment of his own health. He wouldn’t sleep or eat, just paced and worried. I considered ambushing and sedating him before he outright collapsed from exhaustion, but I knew he’d literally kill me when he woke back up. If we hadn’t found you...” he trails off. “It was hard to watch. I don’t want to think about what he would have done if-” He shakes his head, returning to his work. I’m stunned silent, limp and compliant as Stitch continues with my wrists; the pain numbed by whatever he shot me up with. His words continue to circle in my brain, blocking out all other thoughts; Broken, It was hard to watch.

James returns with a tray, eyes travelling over me anxiously for a beat before relaxing, as if he’s afraid to let me out of sight, convinced I’ll disappear or something and while that level of concern is heartwarming, I don’t want him to stress himself out like that.

Stitch glances at the food he brought and nods approval as he stands. “I’ll come back in a few hours to give you more pain relief. Try to sleep and if you can’t, at least take it easy.”

James shuts the door behind him then returns to the bed. He sits beside me and sets the tray gently on my lap. “Do you need my help?” He asks. “Do you want me to give you some time alone?”

I recognize the effort behind those questions. He doesn’t want to leave me alone, and he doesn’t want to sit by and watch me struggle if my wrists hurt too much. What’s more important to me right now? Stubborn independence, or letting James soothe himself by taking care of me? “No, stay please.”

I don’t miss his exhale of relief and I lay back, trying to hide my winces as I settle on the pillow. James sets the tray aside and pulls the blankets up for me, fussing like a mother hen and I find the sight of the biggest, baddest, hottest biker in the compound, maybe the entire country, fretting with my blankets and pillow absolutely adorable. Then he’s sitting beside me and stirring the oatmeal he brought, holding out a spoonful for me. I let him feed me and he visibly relaxes as the time passes, and I find myself relaxing too, settling back into the blankets and letting a feeling of peace wash over me. I’m not sure how much is the drugs and how much is James TLC, but I’ll take it. And when my eyes are getting heavy, I hear James set the tray aside and feel the bed rise then dip again as he stands and removes his shirt, then crawls back onto the bed, snuggling up beside me, tucking me carefully against his chest.

His scent surrounds me and drawing me the rest of way down and, just as I fall asleep, I hear him say, “I love you, baby.”

JAMES

I can’t bring myself to leave Levi today, but I text furiously while she sleeps against me. The edge has been taken off my anxiety and anger, for now, with Levi letting me care for her and fuss, feed her and hold her close while she sleeps. I don’t know if she realizes how much I needed it, how much my raw nerves were soothed by caring for her but, as she sleeps, I feel my rage returning.

Fucking Tracer. Fucking Preacher. They’re both going down. Preacher for bringing Henday down on my woman, and Tracer for not having a better handle on his men. Trace’s VP, Shadow, the man who will take over, better not have a problem with that, or I’ll take the whole club down too.

Nobody fucks with what’s mine and I came close enough to losing Levi forever that I think I’m permanently affected. I will always and forever be reactionary regarding her safety. There will be a new fucking line to toe around her and any visiting chapters or clubs had better have their heads on straight, or I’ll tear them apart.

I think I can say the same of my own men, I saw how they were when Levi was missing, I saw how they rallied when we had a lead, how dark and dangerous their faces were as they prepared to hunt Henday when I carried Lev from that shithole she hid in after escaping him.  

My entire club has her back, my entire club will rain down hell on anyone who hurts her.

Call up Trace. Tell him I want a meeting. I text Steve.

He knows immediately. Preacher too?

Fuck yes.

On it.

I wait for his text and gaze down at Levi. She’s so fucking beautiful and I’m the luckiest fucker in the world to call her mine. She shifts as I graze my knuckle down her cheek, but she sighs and settles right back down when I murmur soothingly to her. She rolls slightly, reaching to hold me closer and as I catch the flash of the thick, white bandages around her wrists, I feel a fresh wave of fury. My woman will have scars and while that doesn’t mean a fucking thing to me, I worry it will hurt her, that she’ll think she’s less beautiful because of them. I will kiss her scars daily, acknowledge and worship each one; I will, to my dying breath, tell her how fucking beautiful she is, how much I love her.

Tomorrow. 7 pm

Fucker’s got terms now? He’s going to tell me when we’re meeting? I don’t think so, but I’ll let him have this, if only to give him a false sense of security. Let him think I’m all easygoing and calm, just happy to have my woman back, when in reality, I’m thirsting for their blood.

Preacher coming too? I type, keeping one hand resting on Levi’s hip.

Yeah, all the officers. I told them you want to thank them for helping out.

Make sure we’re ready.

How many graves?

Just two but be prepared to dig more if necessary.

I’m sure Shadow is a reasonable man.

He better be. I want a statement. NOBODY fucks with my woman.

Understood.

I spend the rest of the day with my beautiful girl and I push the world away from us, let her be safe and warm and surrounded by my love and protection, but it’s as much for me as it is for her. I’ve never been so scared as I was when Lev was missing and its going to take me a while to come back from that. Its not PTSD or anything, but I definitely feel raw and tender, on edge and restless. I find myself waking up a few times from nightmares as I doze next to Lev, startling awake with a pounding heart, sure I’d just missed saving her, that Henday had done what he’d promised and my girl was gone, taking my heart with her. Each time I nestle closer to her, hold her tighter, draw a shuddering breath as I bury my face just a little deeper into her hair and tell myself she’s safe again.

Stitch checks up on us, gives Lev more pain relief and food is brought up. Thor and Steve duck in, bringing their women with them but for the most part my club leaves us alone and I’m grateful. Tomorrow I won’t be able to spend as much time with Lev as I want, I’ll be preparing with my men for that night so I’m getting all I can today.

Levi sleeps most of the day and I nap beside her, working through my phone when I need to. She has a few bad dreams but seems to wake from them quickly enough when I murmur to her, brush back her hair from her forehead and call her name softly.

Thor checks on us around suppertime, asking in a low voice if we want anything, but Lev woke from a nightmare a few minutes ago, trembling full-body against me and just settled back down into sleep and I’m loathed to wake her so I shake my head.

Thor nods in understanding, his gaze softening as he looks down at Levi and I see the truth in his eyes. He would burn the world to keep her safe too, just like me. “Text me,” he murmurs. “When you want something brought up.”

I nod and can’t even wait until Thor leaves before dropping my head and snuggling close again, breathing out the last of my tension.

LEVI

James is on edge today, but he won’t tell me what’s happening. The clubhouse seems busy, keyed up but I don’t have the energy yet to leave the bed, which seems to alleviate some of James’ nerves. He’s in and out today, coming back to me for tender moments but always dragging himself away again with a clenched jaw. He doesn’t want to leave me, that’s obvious, but whatever is going on is too important for him to stay away.

Stitch has appeared with some fancy new bandages, ones tailored for deep burns and other severe skin injuries and wraps my wrists with gentle movements, completely at odds with the heavy leather cut on his back.

“These bandages don’t come cheap.” He tells me conversationally. “Cannon told me to get the best and didn’t even blink when I told him the price. These are used in the major burn and trauma centers.”

“But I’ll still scar, right?”

Stitch stops his wrapping and gazes up at me, unsettling clarity and understanding in his dark eyes. “You will always be beautiful, Levi. Inside and out, and Cannon will always love you. You are his world.”

My face goes red and I suddenly feel like I’m going to cry. Stitch takes pity on me.

“Besides, bikers always have scars; it’s like a prerequisite.” I snort with laughter.

He sits with me a while longer, asking mild questions, talking about small things and I get the sense he’s probing gently, looking for injuries that are more than skin-deep. He smiles when I try to stifle a yawn and pats my knee lightly as he stands, gathering his supplies and tucking them into his medical bag.

“Get some sleep, Lev. Best thing for you right now.”

JAMES

Tracer and Preacher don’t arrive alone, not that I expected them to. With effort I left Levi a little earlier, and even though she’s asleep with more pain relief drugs, I asked Nat and Sable to watch over her. They understand something’s up too, but they’re experienced enough to not ask questions, and I know that if Lev does wake up during our ‘party’, they’ll keep her upstairs and away from the ugliness.

I watch as most of the officers of the down-state charter saunter in, they’re ready to party, voices loud and coarse laughter even louder. As per my instructions to my brothers earlier, we’re going to let them settle for a few minutes, get relaxed but not drunk before lowering the boom.

I approach Tracer and clasp his hand, embrace him with one arm, thank him again for helping with Levi. Setting my trap, weaving my web. I make the rounds, thanking and shaking the hands of all the down-state officers then sit at the head table. I would have preferred to dispose of the trash somewhere other than our clubhouse, but I can’t afford to arouse any suspicion.

A few minutes pass, and I cut my eyes to my VP and SIA, telling them with a glance that the time has come. Subtly they prepare, and the signal goes out to all my brothers.

I stand and step to the center of the room. I hold my arms wide, a beer in my left, my right ready to grab my .45 and turn in a circle.

“Brothers!” A chorus of cheers erupts, and I almost feel bad for what’s about to come, almost. I’m bringing down the house tonight, literally. “I brought you all here tonight to thank you, to show my gratitude for your help when my old lady was taken. She’s back home safe and I owe it all to you here.”

I gesture to Steve and Thor, motion them closer, bait for the trap then wave to Tracer and Preacher to join us. They do, jostling each other and laughing, slapping shoulders like this is a good old time and they’re all going to get shit-faced, loaded and laid.

The shock on their faces when I point the gun at them is comical.

No one packs in my clubhouse, a hard and fast rule, so none of the down-states have a weapon, but all my brothers do tonight and they’re ready. I see the moment Trace and Preacher realize this and it does my heart good.

“What the fuck, Cannon?” Tracer growls, holding up his hands placatingly. “This your idea of gratitude now?”

“Nobody fucks with me or my family, Trace. I thought you understood that.” I direct the statement to Tracer, but my glare is locked on Preacher. My finger itches to pull the trigger and wipe that dumbass look off his face.

“McCoy Jackson.” I state flatly. “That’s you Preacher, isn’t it?”

Tracer jolts slightly, then glances over at his Enforcer.

“Grew up with the Henday twins,” I continue. “You were friends with them, even after they split and Deimos stayed with the Knights, kept in contact.”

“What the fuck is he talking about, Preacher?” Tracer demands.

“Anything to say, Preach?” I growl.

The mask falls, and the cool, genial man I thought I knew disappears. The monster that takes his place sends a bolt of shock through me, then cold hatred and realization takes its place; this bastard knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly what he was going to unleash by calling Deimos. He wanted it; he wanted Levi destroyed, he wanted me destroyed and that seals his fate, making what I’m about to do that much easier. He spits contemptuously on the floor.

“Bitch deserved it.”

Tracer makes a strangled sound. “You said you wouldn’t call him,” he hisses. He turns to me, moist panic on his face. “I told him not to, it’s not my fault!” Suddenly he reminds me of a weasel, a rat bastard of a man struggling to cover his exposed ass and throwing everyone he can under the proverbial bus. Maybe Tracer didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, maybe he underestimated the level of depravity Deimos and Preacher were capable of, but he knew something would be unleashed when he turned a blind eye to his Enforcer, and he did it anyway.

Preacher fixes his president with a cynical eye. “You knew I did. Don’t bother lying, you pussy.” He turns back to me. “I ain’t gonna apologize. That cunt-“

I don’t need to hear anymore.

I pull the trigger and his body hits the floor with a heavy thud. I watch dispassionately as the corpse twitches and kicks, groaning its last breath in a wheezing, strangled gurgle then turn my sights on Tracer.

“Cannon, c’mon brother-“ His face is slick with sweat, eyes beady and I wonder how I never noticed before how much he looks like a slimy prick. He tries to take a step back, hands up in surrender, but Steve and Thor move to block him, ready to shove him back towards me.

“I’m not your brother, you lying piece of shit.” I pull the trigger a second time, aiming right between his rat eyes.

The body is still jerking and gurgling when I turn to Shadow.

I see the gears turning in the VP’s eyes, see him weighing his options.

“Did you know too?” I ask, my voice dangerously low and even.

Shadow doesn’t speak, but his head jerks slowly from one side to the other. There’s sober truth in his eyes, the look of a man who knows he’s on the razor’s edge of life or death, and all that’s left to him is the mercy of the gatekeeper.

“Are we done here? Or do you all want to die tonight?” My words hang heavy in the silent clubhouse.

“It’s done.” Shadow replies, his tone neutral. “It’s buried.” He looks towards the other members of his club, the club he now leads as their president cools on my floor. “You hear? It’s done!”

I push my gun back into my waistband and hold out my hand; if Shadow accepts it, he is bound to his word, by his honor and the sanctity of his club’s honor.

He steps forward and takes my hand.

And it’s over.

Later, I return to Levi’s side. The downstate charter cleared out after our handshake, not that I’m surprised. I have Shadow’s word and, if he breaks it, there will be war. But I saw acceptance in his eyes tonight. It would be hard to explain to an outsider, but club code and honor run deep and the men and women who live this life understand and accept that. Their brothers broke that code and that comes with a price to pay.

Tonight, it was paid.

Tonight, it was laid to rest.

Levi’s asleep when I enter the room. Sable sits on the bed near her while Nat is stretched out beside her, head propped on her elbow. Both heads swivel in my direction. The stereo on the bureau plays loud enough to soften what happened downstairs.

“Is it done?” Sable asks quietly.

I nod and they stand, stretching their limbs and smiling fondly down at Levi. I wait as they shuffle past, resting a hand on each one’s shoulder and murmuring a low ‘thank you’. Sable smiles while Nat leans up on her tiptoes to peck my cheek and then they’re gone, the door shutting with a low click.

I want to climb into bed with her right now, want to wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair, let her take me down with her into peaceful sleep, but I turn and enter the bathroom instead. I need to wash off, scrub away the taint and darkness of the last few hours. Levi’s too pure and good to be contaminated with that ugliness.

The shower is near scalding as I stand under the spray, my face upturned into the water, letting it sting my skin and wash away my sins. The heat purifies me and when my longing for Levi grows too strong, I turn off the shower and step out.

I pause for a beat at the doorway, lean against it and study her. Long auburn hair splays across the pillow, her creamy skin stands out against the charcoal grey pillowcase and my heart aches to touch her again. I pull on boxer-briefs and crawl under the covers, snuggling close and feeling my body instantly relax, my soul taking a deep sigh of relief.

Levi sighs, breaths something that might be my name.

“I’m here, baby.” I press a kiss to her shoulder and bury my face in her neck, letting her peacefulness take me down.

*********************************************************************

ONE YEAR LATER

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

As the guests cheer and yell, the new couple lean into each other, their lips connecting, eyes closing in ecstasy. The kiss deepens, tongues sweep against each other and the crowd’s cheers grow rowdier and louder. A metal rendition of ‘The Wedding March’ starts and the couple reluctantly pull apart, eyes still locked. He pulls her in for one more passionate kiss then they part in earnest, still clasping hands and gazing at each other as the stride down the aisle, both sides screaming with joy and celebration. The day is gorgeous, the weather perfect and beyond the clubhouse the reception is already laid out for the epic party to come.

His eyes shining, James reaches out for Levi and she takes his hand, smiling up at him as they turn and follow the new couple. James’ cut gleams on his shoulders and Levi’s Property of Cannon vest lends a tough edge to her soft, flowing dress.

Ahead of them, Thor and Sable march, the perfect golden couple, now finally joined forever.

“Three more weeks,” Levi leans over, murmurs in James’ ear. “Then it’s our turn.”

“I can’t wait.” James’ whispers, nuzzling into her ear, smiling when Levi giggles at the tickle.

“Thank you, though.” Levi adds. “For waiting.”

“Anything for you.” James replies earnestly, gazing deep into her eyes for a beat. He subtly switches direction, pulling Levi gently with him towards the gathering wedding party and the photographer trying to wave the bride and groom towards her.

“Best man!” The photographer calls to James’, waving him closer. “Maid of honor!”

Working together, Sable, Nat, Levi and the photographer manage to corral the rowdy group together long enough for some beautiful pictures, then the temptation of the party is too much and Thor picks up his bride with a flourish, roaring as he jogs towards the wooden tables set out and ready, Sable’s excited shriek musical and light. Rock music is blaring, the drinks are flowing, and nobody is slowing down until probably tomorrow.

“You coming?” Steve asks, glancing back at James. Nat pulls on his arm with a grin, eager to join the party.

“Go ahead.” Levi replies, “we’ll be right there.” Steve grins and finally lets Nat lead him away.

James turns to Levi, raising a brow. The clear sky above them makes Levi’s hair gleam and he can just imagine what she will look like, standing with him at the head of the aisle in three weeks’ time.

It’s been a long year. Levi wanted to wait, wanted the dust to settle, her scars to fade and her business take root before diving into a wedding and James was willing to do anything to keep her happy.

There had been no further fallout from the Henday incident. James, Steve, Thor and Shadow had met with the leader of The White Knights, a tall man with dead eyes named Azrael. He’d listened silently and nodded once in agreement; an old scar across his throat hinting at why his voice rasped like a corpse’s.

“Deimos knew the risks, he accepted them and paid for his foolishness.” He met the eyes of each man before him, and James felt a distinct chill at the emptiness he saw there. “It is done.”

“James?” Levi’s gentle voice breaks into his thoughts.

“Yeah, baby?” James looks down, smiling at his beloved. He reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind Levi’s ear, trailing his fingertip along her jawline before dropping his head to kiss her. He pulls away reluctantly, wishing he could stand here and do nothing but kiss Levi all night.

“I have to tell you something.” There’s a flicker of apprehension in her voice and James’ brows draw together. “I can’t keep it to myself any longer, I know the timing sucks-“

What could she have to say to him that makes her anxious for his reaction?

“What, baby? Tell me.” James murmurs, taking her hands and raising them to his face, pressing a tender kiss to each subtly scarred wrist before cradling her face in his big hands, gentle despite their size. “What’s wrong?”

Levi sniffles, shakes her head as she blinks away tears. “Not wrong. I’m just…” she breaks off, leaning into James’ hands. She takes a deep breath and smiles up at him, eyes glistening. “I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.”

James inhales sharply, eyes wide and lips parted. His eyes roam hers. “Really?” He asks breathlessly, his face contorts with emotion and his voice trembles. “Really, baby? You are? I’m-?” His voice cracks.

Tears stream down Levi’s face. “Yes.”

He stares at Levi for a heartbeat, tears welling in his eyes before he throws his head back and roars with elation. Crushing her to his chest, James kisses her desperately, laughing through his tears, feeling like his chest will simply burst with elation.

When he’d first seen Levi, a nervous little girl enduring her first day in third grade at a new school, his heart had issued a decree the rest of him hadn’t quite understood yet but honored all the same. Mine. From that moment on, his heart had beat for her alone, he’d watched for her, gazed longingly at her as she’d gone about her life, unaware of his helpless attraction. He’d been too scared, too ashamed of his station to make a move, too goddamn terrified of the chance she would laugh in his face when he finally did screw up the sack to speak to her, never knowing she’d struggled with the same insecurities, that she watched for him just as desperately as he did her, that her palms went equally slick with sweat, her heart beat the same frantic tattoo when they passed in the hallways, when they shared a class.

He’d thought he’d lost her, lost her to the big city and higher education before he’d ever worked up the nerve to tell her how he’d always felt and the next decade had been strangely empty, despite his fevered efforts to fill it, with anything really, the club, parties, club girls, even Daria; but it had always come back to Levi and when she’d walked into Panhead Joe’s ten years after leaving their small town it was like no time had passed, and James’ heart had stuttered to frantic life again, helplessly drawn to her flame.

The next months, the next year had been the darkest in his life, a swirling vortex of anguish and misery he’d not been sure, hell he knew he wouldn’t have survived if not for Steve and Nat, even Thor and the desperate clinging hope that Levi would come back to him, that he’d not lost her for good this time.

But he would do it all again, endure all the want and heartache, if it meant he got to be here, right here, listening to his reason for living tell him there would soon be more joy in his life, more reasons to get up every morning and face the world.

Tears of sheer euphoria wet his cheeks and he didn’t care who saw, he didn’t care who was staring at them know, alerted by his roar of elation; right now, his world consisted of only one thing, one person and he kissed her with everything he had, every hope and dream for their future, every cell in his body that had, since that day so long ago, existed solely for her.

“I love you.” He gasped, burying his face against hers, breathing in her scent, feeling her skin shiver under his lips. “Forever.”

Levi sighed contentedly, the sheer power of James’ emotions enough to bring her to tears too. How had she gotten so lucky? She would spend the rest of her life wondering that, even while she cherished every second, every touch and lingering glance. James was hers and she was his and while the road to each other had been rocky, nearly impassable at times, they’d found their way back to each other every time.

“I love you too,” she whispered, feeling James hand drift down to caress her belly, the place where their child grew.

“Forever.”

[anarcoqueer1994]

Trans Platonic Tarty Story part 6.

So this is most like my last part! Thank you everyone for reading and reblogging. Probably going to start a new Trans TJ story soon with less focus on the coming out parts.

This is a heavy Marty chapter with some Muffy moments. I hope you like it!

Also remember that you are valid whether you pass, don't pass, or don't want to. How you live your gender or lack there of is up to you. <3

Marty felt so stupid running off from his friends like that. He just doesn't know what else to do right now. He knows TJ isn't mad at him for not coming out. He knows that TJ is right about it being his choice to make about when or if he wants people to know he is trans. He understands this all objectively. But knowing something  doesn't necessarily change how you feel, and right now Marty feels like a coward. 

He ran off from the lunch table leaving his very confused friends to piece together what just happened. When he finally stopped running, he finds himself under the bleachers around the football field. He collapses onto the patchy grass under the metal seats above him. Usually running helps him feel better, at least for a bit, but not today. 

He had been doing so well, the past few months. He finally got out of that emotionally exhausting and abusive household where he couldn't be himself. He had formed a really great friendship with TJ. And most excitingly of all, he was finally dating the girl that has been invading his dreams every night for the past year and a half.  He should be the happiest he has ever been, but right now, in this moment, every negative thought that has ever crossed his mind about himself, is racing through his brain.

He feels so angry. He wants to blame someone else. Maybe it was his parents for fucking him up and causing all this internalized guilt for just being himself? Maybe he was mad at the few kids at school for being so hateful towards TJ for coming out, that made him terrified to do the same. Maybe he was mad at TJ for coming up with this stupid shirt idea in the first place? 

No. None of these were it. He was mad at himself for not being brave and he was mad that he lived in a world where you had to be brave to be open about being trans. He couldn't just be open with an expectation of no one having a problem because there was always going to be people who wouldn't be kind. It's really not fair. When you are born and the hospital assigns your gender, nobody questions it. But if you go against that assignment, it's a whole damn thing.

As he is mauling this over, only making himself more and more upset, he sees someone sit down beside him out of the corner of his eye. "Buffy, you didn't need to follow me."

"I mean, I kind of did. I don't know for sure but I am pretty sure it's part of the whole girlfriend job." She smiles, trying to lighten the mood. The boy sitting beside her, doesn't look. He anxiously messes with his shoe lace, while remaining silent.

"Marty, Kira is a mean, horrible person. Those things she said to TJ and Cyrus were inexcusable. But you didn't do anything wrong." She rests her hand on his knee.

"Well that doesn't change the fact that I stood there and did nothing, Buffy. You literally got in school suspension for standing up to Kira and I was a coward." He says, eyes not leaving the patch of ground below him.

"Marty…that's not true. You are not a cowa… "

"I don't need you to lie to me." He interrupts, coming off way angrier than attended.

She looks a little stunned at how harshly he talked to her but tries to brush it off. She knows he isn't really mad at her. She takes a deep breath. "I'm not lying to you, you aren't a coward. Its okay to protect yourself against toxic people like Kira. TJ and Cyrus know you care and they definitely don't blame you for not saying anything. It's your choice to come out on your terms."

He clutches a clump of grass and dirt. "Everyone keeps saying that to me, that it's my choice. Like it is that simple! But it's not. I feel like my head wants to do a 1000 different things at once. I don't want it to be some secret but it scares me to think of anyone besides our friends finding out. This would be so much better if I was born cis. If I didn't have to hide behind tight binders and loose shirts to be myself. " An angry tear forms in the corner of his eye. He quickly pushes his palm against it, pressing so hard he sees specs of color. "Jesus Christ."

Buffy opens her mouth to speak but is at a loss for words. She quickly closes it again. She doesn't know how to help him. He clears his throat. "I'm going to go."

"What about your afternoon classes?"

"What about them?" He says coldly before turning and walking away. Buffy, against every instinct she has to meddle, let's him walk away.

***********

Marty really doesn't know what his plan was, walking off from school like that. He knows his aunt won't be very happy about it when she finds out, but he didn't really care. He needed to be away from that school. He does regret how he treated Buffy though. She didn't deserve for him to treat her so coldly.

He walks for a while, careful to avoid main streets so he doesn't get caught. He doesn't know who he can talk to. The two people he usually turned to, he couldn't. He had blown off Buffy and TJ had his own shit to deal with right now. He thought about running, maybe take some things off his mind but that was too risky in the middle of the school day. So he decides to just go home...but not to his aunt's house.

He was headed to his parents house. He knew they both were at work right now so he would be alone. But also since they were at work, the house was locked. Luckily his old bedroom window was at the back of the house. So when he got there, all he had to do to get in was climb the tree and crawl in through the window.

When he stepped foot into his old room, it seemed unrecognizable. His parents quickly erased all remnants of ever having a child. The blue walls had been painted a deep burgundy. There were 2 black leather recliners in the corners of the rooms with a large smart TV screen against the opposite walls. There were some other miscellaneous things placed in the room, DVDs, some shelves with tons of books, etc. His parents had basically erased the child they were ashamed of with a room full of stuff that will always be more important to them.

With books, and movies, and TV shows, they could choose what they wanted to see. It was in their control. But with Marty, they couldn't control him and force him to be something he was not forever. He was always just going to be an inconvenient thorn in their side.

 He suddenly regrets coming here. He doesn't quite understand what he wanted to accomplish. Maybe he was hoping that his bedroom wouldn't of been changed. That they maybe kept it the way he left it because they missed and hoped he came back. He wanted some proof that his parents loved him. But all they did was ignore the fact that they ever had a child. 

He feels so angry, and hurt and even worse than he felt at school. He doesn't even know how it happened, but he finds himself walk the room, when he stops at a small framed picture on the side table next to one of the chairs. It is a picture of his mom and dad, but it looks familiar. He takes the backing off the frame and pulls the picture out. His heart drops into his stomach when he realizes that the picture had been folded to cut him off. It had been their family picture from the year before where his mom had forced him to where something "more feminine." 

He hated the picture because he didn't look or feel like himself in it. But it hurts more to know that now, his parents were just hiding him and existence.  He puts the picture back the way he found it. In his head he knew he should just leave but apparently his body did not want to listen.

Without thinking, he picked the picture back up and chucked it across the room where it hit the TV, busting it before the picture fell to the ground, glass from the frame shattering. Once he got started, he couldn't stop, he let his anger take hold of him. He knocked over books and movies, and broke the nearby lamp in the process. He trashed the room.

Then he was left standing in the middle of the chaos he created. The floor littered with the objects his own parents valued over him. He took it all in. He hoped this would make him feel better but it didn't. It just served as a reminder that the people that created him, saw this trash that surrounded him as worth more than him. That he was less than trash. 

Well he wasn't about to let them ignore him any more. They could hate him but couldn't just stamp him out. With what he had done, they couldn't just push him to the back burner. He grabs a sharpie that has ended up on the floor and in big black letters across the wall he wrote "DO YOU SEE ME NOW?" and with that, he climbed out the window and headed far away from that house.

**************

It was a few more hours until he finally headed back to his aunt's house. While he was out his phone died. He walks in to find her waiting at the kitchen table. She looks concerned.

"Marty?" She whispers. 

He turns to her with blood shot eyes. He had been crying on and off since he left his old home. His voice cracks. "What?"

"I've gotten some interesting phone calls today." Her face looks apprehensive. Her voice is soft and caring. He can tell that she isn't mad at him as much as she was concerned. "Why did you leave school? Why did you go your parent's house? Your mom called."

He looks away. He takes a sharp, pained, breath. He tries to choke something out, but his words get stuck in his throat. He felt terrible for putting his aunt in this situation. He wishes this didn't affect her but it does.

If she is upset about that fact, she doesn't show it. She can see how hurt her nephew is and that is the only thing she cares about. She gets up without a word and wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He sniffled lightly again her shoulder. She doesn't say a thing, just gives him her unconditional love.

After standing there for a while, he quietly whispered, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry for causing any problems for you with my parents…"

"Baby, it's okay. I got it handle, okay?" Unknown to him, when his mom threatened to press charges on the phone, his aunt reminded her she could take her to court for child abandonment and child support.

"Okay. And um...thank you." He says timidly. 

"For what?" She smiles

"For caring about me…" He says as he steps to walk away. He doesn't really want to talk more now. "Hey...um...can we talk later? I kind of wanna lay down." He asks.

"Yea, of course." She says as he walks up to his room and shuts his door. He collapses on his bed and tries to clear his mind. It is not working out that well.

After more of an hour of silence, he hears a knock on his door. It pulls him out of his head. He yells to whoever is outside the door. "Yeah?" 

"Marty, it's me."

He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. "Buffy? What are you doing here?"

"Your aunt let me in. Can I open your door?" Her voice sounds like she is trying to be positive but it is tinged with worry.

He clears his throat, "Yeah, come in."

"Hey." Buffy says as she pushes the door open enough for her to come in before closing it behind her. She steps closer to the edge of his bed. "Can I sit?"

"Um sure, look Buffy, I'm sorry." He starts as she sits on his bed, half facing him. "I'm sorry that I just left earlier. I shouldn't have just ran away. I was kind of a jerk to you too."

"Yeah you were." She jokes. "But that's not why I'm here." Her voice gets more destressed. "Marty, you really had me worried. You ran off and weren't answering your calls."

"I'm...sorry." He exhales into an annoyed sigh but it wasn't aimed at Buffy. It was aimed at himself. "My phone died."

Buffy reaches forward and grabs Marty hand. "It's okay, I just care about you a lot."

Marty tries to joke. He puts on a half smile and says "Watch it, Driscoll, you getting soft on me?" 

She chuckles back. Keeping her voice low, she implored, "So, what did you do?"

He quickly looks away while rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Something stupid…" He confesses.

"You wouldn't be the first person to do something stupid today. I got myself in school suspension...with Kira" She says in disgust.

"I broke into my parents house?" He continues to not look at her.

'Marty...why? What if you would of got caught?" Her eyebrows are raised in a mixture of confusion and surprise.

He finally meets her eye. "Yeah, I didn't think that far. But they weren't home so they didn't see me."

"Oh good so they don't know you were there?" 

He lets out a dry laugh. "Oh no, they definitely know I was there."

"What...did...you...do?" Emphasizing each word with a pause.

He places his other hand over Buffy's so that her hand is sandwiched between his. "It just happened, Buff." His voice sounded weak and defeated. "I went into my room to see if it changed. And it definitely did. They got rid of anything I didn't take with me. They made it a home theater. They purposely  blotched out any reminder that I ever occupied space in their lives. They even cut me out a stupid family picture." His breath sounded more labored now like he was trying to keep himself together and force himself not to cry.

"Marty, I'm so, so sorry…" She says, kicking off her shoes, so she could scoot closer onto the bed. She removes her hand from his, just for it to reappear on his shoulder a few moments, arm pulling him tight.

"I just wanted to believe that my parents really did love and we would someday get past this. But I don't think we ever will…and when I saw all that stuff, I was so angry. So I wrecked the room. I don't even know why. But part of me hoped that at least I could get some reaction off of them. Something so I could pretend that they care. But they don't."

"Well they didn't deserve to have a son as funny, and athletic, and...sweet…" She smiles into the word  "...as you. I mean that, okay? Your parents made their choice, and now they will never get to see all the great things you are going to do."

He can't help but smile at her words. He really is lucky to have the people who chose to stay in his life. "Hey, guess what?" His mood is notably lighter. 

"What?"

"One good thing came out of today. I realize I have a lot bigger problems than some terrible kids at school. At the end of the day, they are just other kids. It's nowhere near as bad as full grown adults hating you for just existing, especially when they are your parents. So…" he trails off.

"So what?" She urges for him to finish.

"So I'm going to come out tomorrow. I know some kids are going to be assholes  but Like you said…They made their choice. And I am making mine."

"Marty, are you sure?" She asks, to verify if that is what he really wants.

"Yeah. I'm tired of so much of my life being dictated by fear. I don't have to worry about people finding out if they already know. Even if it is terrible, I know my girlfriend and my friends have my back." His voice changes to a more silly competitive tone, "Plus TJ is already beating me on this coming out thing, so I really gotta step up my game." He cracks a goofy grin.

Buffy laughs before resting her head on his shoulder. "You are really full of surprises, Marty…"

"What can I say? I am." He holds onto her too.

***********

The next morning, Buffy meets Marty at his house so they can walk to school together. As they get closer to the school, Buffy asks "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." He admits.

"What's your plan?"

"I think I'm just going to wing it?"

"Which means?" She asks as they climb the steps leading into the school. 

"Not sure." He answers before opening the door to the crowded, busy hallway. They spot their friends in the hallway. TJ is still glued to Cyrus' side more than usual but he looks like he looks happier today. When Jonah, Andi, Cyrus, and TJ notice Buffy and Marty, they immediately smile over to them.

He can't help but feel great in that moment. He had friends who really cared about him even after he accidentally outed himself to them yesterday. Buffy has his hand in hers as they walk closer. A few feet from them though, he stops, drops Buffy's hand and turns to face the hallway, packed with students. He clears his throat loudly before speaking over everyone in there. "Hey excuse me?"

Andi walks close to Buffy and whispers "What is he doing?"

"I think he's winging it?" She says back equally as quiet. Her attention turns back to Marty as he continues.

"I just want everyone in here to know that I'm trans. I'm trans guy. And no I don't want any weird questions. Google it."

Moments later, a few chuckles leave the now quiet hallway. But when Buffy moves forward and stands next to him, the laughs go quiet. Most likely because they saw what she did to Kira. 

"So no one has a problem,right?" He finishes, looking around, trying to hide his overwhelming sense of anxiety. But before long, the hallway chatter starts back up seemingly not fazed by the revelation. He feels better at the lack of reaction. 

The rest of his friends step closer. TJ goes and stands in front of him. "That was sudden."

"Well a lot of things came into perspective last night." Marty smiles.

"So...l I guess we are doing this coming out thing together?" TJ's voice is full of relief but will never admit to it if you ask him. He is just happy to be going  through this with his best friend.

"I guess so, man." He lets out an airy laugh through his nose.

"And you have all of us, too." Buffy says, taking her boyfriend's hand, with Cyrus nodding and doing the same to TJ. Andi and Jonah also smile in agreement.Marty realizes that in this moment,  it can really only get better from here.

Tag List: @abg-blah @kippens-a-goodman @purplefacey @thefaeriemagic3 @tyrus-is-everything

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAVS prt 3... I'm tired of world building already

Returning to his ship in an angry daze, Kosmo had tried to climb into his lap feeling dejected from Lance's lack of attention. Keith... he just couldn't understand. Sitting on his thin bed, he glared down at Lance's communicator in annoyance as replayed their conversation in his mind. Maybe entering Lance's room had been a touch too far, but the anger he'd shown was way out of proportion. And what did he even mean that Earth wasn't his home anymore. From the moment they first reached the castle, Lance had been dying to return to his family... And what did he mean Shiro had already retired to be with Curtis? None of it made any sense. He'd wanted to see his best friend again, but said best friend seemed to genuinely hate him... And what was with his lack of marks? Was it make up? The more he thought about it, the more his mood worsened, the communicator in his hands threatened to break if he applied any more pressure to thin device. Fuck it. Fuck Lance. It wasn't like he didn't have enough on his mind as it was. He still had no leads over Guile. He'd found his best friend and long time crush living in a fucking brothel, getting up to gods know what and he has the nerve to get mad when Keith makes the effort?! Not caring he was invading Lance's privacy, Keith thumbed over the communicators surface. If Lance wasn't going to tell him what the quiznak was going on, he'd have to investigate himself. He had to know... he had to know if it was personal, or if Lance had snubbed the rest of the team in the same manner as he'd done him. Opening his call logs, he scrolled through the list. Each Earth Sunday, he called Veronica. In fact, Veronica seemed to be the most called person on his phone. Next was his mother, listed under "Mama", presumably a blanket name for his family, phone calls home seemed to happen once every two movements lasting for at least a varga each time, though they were also the most missed calls on the device. If Lance was phoning home, then why was his parents so worried? It didn't make sense. Closing his call log, he opened Lance's messages. Veronica's name popping up first, marked with 5 unread messages. Next was his mother again... then Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro, but the dates on these messages were far older, three or so phoebs ago. Frowning, this wasn't the Lance he knew. Lance always liked to check in. He always liked to know everyone was alright. Opening Shiro's message thread, his heart fell when he read what was there. Four times Lance had tried to reach out to Shiro, each time asking "how he was" or "what he'd been up to", only for Shiro to reply each time that he was "sorry, but couldn't talk at the moment". Growling slightly, he closed the thread to open Pidge's, only to find it reading more or less the same thing. The cherry on the top was Hunk's thread. Lance had been encouraging him and Shay, telling Hunk to "go for it", and that he was "an amazing catch anyone would be lucky to have", only, the messages had tapered off to exactly the same thing as what had happened with Shiro and Pidge. Closing out of the thread, he scrolled down further to find he hadn't messaged Lance, or replied to his messages either in over four phoebs. They'd spoken via calls, but the messages thing... He honestly hadn't realised it'd been so long. Flicking back to the call log, he felt sick when he did the maths, Lance had hardly been involved in any of the teams movemently calls. By trying to give Lance space, he'd inadvertently shut the man out completely. If he was Lance, he'd be pretty pissed too, especially when they'd gone through all of this before on their return journey back to Earth. None of them meant it maliciously. People simply got busy with life, but for Lance, Voltron had always been a cruel test of self worth when the Red Paladin had absolutely nothing to prove to any of them. He was the one Keith trusted to watch his back. To question his judgement and to pull him back into line when he fucked up as leader of the group. He'd thought he was doing better. He knew he was doing better. He'd been able to work through so many things when stranded on the space whale with his mother, but the one person who deserved his attention, who'd always tried to make him feel welcome in his own stupid ways, had slipped right through the cracks. It was a bitter pill to swallow. He had to see Lance again. He had to let him know he was quiznakking idiot and that he was sorry. That... even if Lance didn't have those kinds of feelings for him, he still wanted him in his life. Flopping back on his bed, Kosmo crawled up to drop his head down Keith's chest with a sad whine "Sorry, boy. It's me he's mad at. He's been out here for months, and none of seem to care. He didn't want to come back out here. He was happy back on Earth and I thought I could live with that... but he's not ok... I know I'm supposed to be concentrating on Guile... but how do I leave him like this? How do I leave him when he's hurting? He goes above and beyond for all of us, and what do we do? We don't even bother to reply to his messages. I must have seemed like the biggest arsehole in the universe turning up out of nowhere and asking his help like I haven't been ignoring him" Whining at him, he took it to mean Kosmo agreed "We should go apologise. I need to return his communicator too... He's going to be pissed when he realises I have it... Maybe I should return it before he comes back from work? That way he won't know... Why wouldn't he talk to me?" A drunken unremembered night wasn't enough to ruin the bond they'd formed was it? Or was something else weighing on Lance's mind? When his own communicator started ringing, he jumped violently enough for Kosmo to teleport away in fear. Pulling up his mother's call, he sighed as she saw right through his unhappy expression "What happened?" "Erathus" "Hold on a tick" Catching sight of Axca and Kolivan, the last thing he wanted was an audience to his stupidity. Leaving the control room, his mother was soon back with the same concerned look on her face "Is something wrong?" "I fucked up" "Language" "Fine. I stuffed up so quiznakking royally, I don't know how to fix it" "Explain" "None of have been talking to Lance. I didn't even realise how much time had passed and he wasn't exactly happy to see me" "Did he say so?" "Pretty much. I don't think he meant to force his communicator on me, but he tried talking to all of us, only for us to brush him off. Each time. Finally, he stopped and none of us realised" "Keith, there's still so much to clean up. Ten thousand years of tyrant cannot be fixed in a few short years" "But... this is Lance. He literally got himself blown up like the first day he met Coran protecting him. He'd do the same for any of us, and we... Especially with Allura. Now I've shown up asking for a favour. No wonder he's so mad" "Did you try explaining how busy you've been?" "I didn't get the chance, he was on his way to work and I don't think he appreciated me letting myself into his room" "Keith" "It wasn't my fault. Kosmo had to sniff him out because he wasn't listed on the guest registry of the..." He couldn't say brothel, that'd only make things worse "... hotel he's been staying at. The door opened before I could knock, and when I called I got no answer" Sighing heavily, his mother shook her head "Alright. What about Guile?" "Nothing. Nothing on Thatus. Nothing from the rebel camps, or the planets I stopped by" "I'll speak to Kolivan over how he wants to proceed. I can already tell what you want to do next" "Even if it's just for a quintant, I want to talk to him. Make sure he's doing better than it seems" "I know you care deeply for him, but you need to be prepared to accept that he might not feel the same way about you, as you do about him" Keith's face reddened "Mum!" "I'm just saying..." "I know exactly what you're saying. I've already accepted it, I just want to know he's ok and apologise for ignoring him without intending to" "Alright. Call me. You might be worried about him, but I'm worried about you" "I know, mum. I'll check in tomorrow" "Be safe" "Yeah, yeah. I love you too" Ending the call, Keith closed his eyes. This wasn't how his vacation was supposed to be going at all. * Leaving Kosmo in his ship Keith found something more appropriate to wear back to the club in the form of a plain black shirt, black skinny jeans, and his black boots. Highly unoriginal, yet enough that looked more touristy than he had previously. With Lance's communicator in his pocket, Keith was armed with an apology and the hope Lance would let him get everything off his chest without yelling again. He'd had feelings for Lance so long that it'd been honestly painful to give his best friend the support and push he'd needed to pursue Allura, despite how she'd treated his best friend. Lance had worshipped the ground the princess had walked on. He'd been brushed aside over and over again, forced to watch her fall in love with Lotor, the forced to watch as Lotor tore her heart out. He wasn't naive enough to believe that Allura was incapable of getting over her feelings for him, it was just... on Earth all she'd been preoccupied with was spending every waking moment waiting for the robeast pilot to awaken, then suddenly she was as keen on Lance as he'd been on her since day one. Lance had worried himself sick over their date, coming to him of all people for reassurance. Watching the sunset, he'd desperately wanted to tell Lance not to go through with it all, lying to himself that as long as Lance was happy he could be too. Making his way back to the club, the never ending tide of people streaming through the streets hadn't seemed to abated in the slightest, even 12 vargas later. The city illuminated in every colour rainbow as adverts played on massive screens for things he'd never even heard of. Small walkways he'd never noticed that morning now lit up, advertising casinos or clubs, and all manner of entertainment. A person really could find something here to satisfy that itch of perversion each tourist seemed to carry silently on their shoulders. He hated it all. Clubbing wasn't his scene, or maybe clubbing alone wasn't his scene. He hadn't had the most practical of childhoods, or atypical teenager life. The years most spent experimenting were lost to him on the space whale, yet he couldn't bring himself to regret a single moment of the time spent getting to know his mother. The time has softened his sharp edges, giving him a whole new perspective on life. Letting himself into the club, he skipped the front desk as he headed for the main dance floor, aliens of every race all dancing and mingling as unidentifiable music played over the speaker system. Whatever it was, the atmosphere was soaked with sex in the air. Ordering himself a drink really didn't seem worth it, yet without Kosmo to teleport him up to the second level, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. The building clearly had more than two levels, the roof not visible from street height at all, yet if he did attempt to enter at higher level it might eventuate in him causing a scene that could cost Lance his precious job. Positioning himself at the end of the counter, he ignored the way his drink glowed a soft green as he opened his communicator to pull up the buildings security data. "Is this seat taken?" In his own world, Keith didn't realise he was being talked to. He'd found the schematics to the buildings air duct system, the main turbines on the 95th floor... There were smaller outlet shafts at ground level around the back of the building, but they tapered down to a size that he'd have to be a mouse to get through, completely ruining all chances of using the ducts to reach Lance's room. For someone who loved space and the starts, he was surprised Lance didn't want to be closer to them. Feeling a tug on his arm, he was pulled back reality. A young female alien with four arms and far too much make up was staring down at him "Sorry?" "I asked if this seat was taken?" "No?" Turning back to his communicator, his arm was tugged on again "You're not very good at flirting, are you?" He was being flirted with? "Sorry, I'm..." "What? You think you're going to sit there and act like you're too good for me?!" "No, it's..." "It's what? Is there something wrong with me?" Other than the fact she wasn't Lance? Or the fact she looked as if she'd bathed in her makeup before leaving her room? "No. I..." Yelling something at him in something that must have been her native tongue, Keith sat there in shock as stormed off. He hadn't even done anything, and it wasn't like he'd asked for any of that to happen. Fuck it. He was on a mission to find a way up to Lance's room while bypassing the bouncers that guarded the second floor. It was time for diversionary tactics. If he couldn't awkwardly people his way through this, then he'd have to Blade of Marmora his way through instead. Pulling up the building schematics again, he pulled up the power grid, thanking Pidge yet again that her program made everything far too easy. With a few taps, there was a smirk on his lips as the lighting behind the bar went out, the bar tenders visibly confused as customers grew angry over their inability to drink themselves even stupider. The first punch thrown under up with the offender hurled over the bar, from the way the staff simply sidestepped the commotion Keith was left wondering how many times brawls had resulted in the same thing happening. As the two bouncers moved to break up the fight, he restored power to the bar before draining his drink and slipping through the warm bodies on the dance floor. He hadn't intended on a brawl, but damn it'd been effective. The second floor was illuminated differently as Keith walked the passage. Some doors lit with an aqua light above sensor strips to the right of them, some lit with red. Given he didn't know what the aqua or red lights were about he wasn't even going to speculate what the yellow or light green ones meant, despite the fact the light above the sensor strip to Lance's room was glowing yellow. Lifting his hand, he waited like he had that morning, hoping that when the door opened Lance wouldn't be there and he'd be able to return the communicator without him noticing. After that, he'd slip back down into the club and message Lance over catching up. It wasn't like he didn't have time to waste now that his mother had Kolivan preoccupied. Taking a few moments, the door slid open silently to reveal the brightly lit interior of Lance's room. The lights from the street spilling in to cast patterns across the ceiling which were pretty in their own way, yet left him with a kind of hollow feeling in his chest. All this life was going on around Lance, so why was his room so devoid of it all? Shaking his head, he scolded himself. He'd already snooped enough by going through Lance's phone. Anything else he wanted to know had to come from Lance himself. It was only right, and he wasn't hearing the full story with the sideways stalking of him. Striding across the room he fished out lance's communicator from his pocket, so he could carefully place it back down from where Lance had retrieved it earlier. Turning back towards the door he knew he had to leave, but... if he did, would Lance answer him when he messaged? In all likelihood, he probably wouldn't. They'd moved past that in their relationship. But maybe he would? It'd been vargas since he'd turned up on Lance's doorstep, enough time for Lance to process that he was there and wanted to talk... Quiznak. Why was it that Lance turned him into such a bundle of uncertainty? Crossing back towards the door, there was a solid thud against it from the otherside, followed by a soft laugh that could have only been Lance's. Keith's heart leapt at the sound, only for it to fall when a gruff voice joined it. Lance was laughing with someone else... and he was about to be sprung in Lance's room all over again. Slightly panicked, he did the only thing he could and threw himself at the bathroom door, it sliding back with a soft whoosh as he drew his blade and darted inside, hitting the door panel to close it as the main door to the apartment opened, wedging his blade between the door and the frame, his stalkerish ways hitting a whole new level as he watched through the gap. Laughing and giggling, Lance had his legs wrapped around a Galra, a second one crowding from behind, the mood between the three of them flirtatious enough for Keith to step back. He didn't want to see this, but he couldn't look away. "Slow down... mmm, just like that" Watching both Galra mouth at lance's neck, Lance moaned for more, the one behind him ripping off the man's shirt causing Lance to giggle even more "Did no ever teach you patience?" "No" Laughing like it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard, Lance was cut short as he carried over to his bed and dropped down. Crawling up the covers he soon disappeared from view, yet his voice carried well "Come here, papi. I haven't had a Galra in a while..." Lance was... he was... no... "We're going to fuck you until you can't walk" "Just the way I like it" He could hear the wink in Lance's voice, followed by a rustling of cloth. Moving out of the way to undo their pants, Lance was down to his boxer briefs, long caramel legs spread as he reached out for both Galra... "That's right... come here... I'm going to make you both feel so good..." Covering his mouth to stifle his breathing, Keith was murderous. Lance shouldn't be... not with... it was stupidly romantic, just like Lance was, but Lance should only be having sex with the person he loved. Someone to treasure him. Someone who wouldn't pay him and leave him. Closing his eyes, he willed his breathing to calm, opening them as Lance let out a particularly loud moan. He was going to die right here. Lance would causally walk into he bathroom and find him dead right there. Keith. Killed by his embarrassment caused by stalkerish ways because he couldn't simply grow a pair and ask Lance out properly. What a way to die. "Slow down, papi... we have all night and this little pup is going to be such a good boy for you both" Drawing both Galra close, Lance traded kisses between the pair, before reaching under his pillow with both hands. The pair of Galra growling as he did "It's ok. We humans need a little help to loosen up down there..." The next moment brought a flurry of action on Lance's end. One moment he was moaning, the next he was tearing two black tranquilliser guns out from under his pillows, both finding their marks against the necks of the two Galra hovering over Lance. It was only a tick before the purple liquid in both had been depressed into the Galra's necks and the pair were scrambling backwards off him Lance, holding the wound site as they glared down at him "Have a nice nap boys" Collapsing down the bigger of the pair cursed "Leandro", promising to "tear his throat out of if he ever saw him again". Lance wasn't phased at all. Climbing from his bed, he made his way to his kitchen where he opened the top draw to withdraw another communicator. This one black in comparison to the orange one Keith had snooped through before "LEA. 2D. NMTN. NCN. RTN. PHNPHS. TS" What was that supposed to mean? Why was Lance listing off a bunch of weird letters and looking so bored about it all as he did. Whatever it meant, that was all there was to the call. Pausing to retrieve a gown from his walk-in-robe, Lance moved to his bedside table where he retrieved two pairs of cuffs. Cuffing both Galra with a sigh, he gave each of them a kick to the side for good measure before dropping back down on the side of his bed. There were plenty of times in Keith's life where he couldn't find the words to say what he wanted, but right now, he wasn't even sure he knew what words were. Through the crack in the door he was forced to watch as Lance pulled the tranquilliser vial from the gun, then slid a softly glowing yellow one into place and held it to his thigh, openly injecting himself with whatever was in there. Placing the gun back down, he then rose to walk over to the kitchen. Keith couldn't... Sinking down onto the toilet, Keith buried his face in his hands. None of this made any sense in any way, shape or form. Lance didn't do drugs. He didn't go around luring Galra back to his bed only to drug them. And who was on the other end of that call? Left to stew a few doboshes passed before there was knock at lance's door and he found himself back on his feet spying all over again. Nodding at Lance, the man in charge of what seemed to be five aliens of the same species as the bouncers downstairs passed Lance a package silently while his goons gathered up the two unconscious Galra. The exchange silent. The group walking out the room like it was an everyday occurrence... "You're welcome! Jodido policia..." Policia... was police. He enough Spanish to know that. That was the police? They didn't look terribly police like, and with all the run ins he had, he really well and truly knew what police officers looked like. The police wanted those two Galra and what... Lance was working with them? Hadn't he been working as a bodyguard? Or had Hunk got it all wrong and assumed a job in security had meant bodyguard? Absolutely every single of one his questions could be answered if he simply burst from the bathroom right now to ask. Instead he sank back down on the toilet. What the Quiznak was all of this?! * Still trapped in the bathroom, Keith waited with bated breath. Lance was grumbling over something, drawing his attention back to sliver in the door. Obviously oblivious to the fact he was being watched, Lance went about getting changed into an outfit that could barely be called an outfit. He was covered, but that was about it. His outfit skintight leaving nothing to imagination. Settling down on his sofa, he tapped away on his black communicator, pulling up a holocall with someone he didn't recognise, talking for a few ticks, Lance was all smiles, grabbing his jacket and making for the door as he promised "he'd be right down". Now would have been the time to say something, Lance passing within millimetres of the bathroom door before disappearing out the main door like he hadn't just assisted in the capture of two over handsy Galra that Keith wouldn't mind spending 5 minutes unsupervised and alone with. Now that the apartment was cleared of Lance's presence, he was going to get some damn answers. Starting in the bathroom, he didn't like what he saw. Bloodied bandages. Bottles of red and blue pills. A small black box filled with those same yellow vials. If he was going to stalk Lance, he might as well go all out. He couldn't help Lance if he didn't understand what he was looking at, and what was a little stealing between friends? Popping the covers on both bottles of pills, he shook two of each out, then replaced them carefully. A quick check of the draw beneath revealed another one of those black boxes, this one half empty making it easier to steal a few tubes without Lance noticing. Pausing as he slipped the "borrowed" items into his pocket, he took a deep breath. Was he really going to do this? And was it really... what if he... what if whatever this was, was exactly what he was thinking it was? The drugs. Throwing himself at random strangers? Drugging them? Living in a club... that was actually a brothel... Did Veronica know? No. Veronica couldn't. She would have dragged Lance out of here the moment she'd heard. Something he too should be doing... But with all Lance had been through, he deserved the benefit of the doubt. Slipping out of Lance's room, the man in question was walking back along the hall with a male he didn't recognise. Attempting to appear casual, Keith went to lean on the door, only to remember at the last moment that the doors here opened automatically, leaving him cringing internally as his shoulder his the wall. Whatever Lance was saying was broken off when he realised Keith was standing there, a frown passing over his lips before being replaced with a clearly fake smile. The "friend" he was with didn't look too happy that whatever had been about to happen had no been waylaid "Keith? What are you doing in front of my room?" The weight of the pills in his pocket seemed to grow exponentially "Hey, man..." His internal flinching growing at the slighter higher pitch of his voice "... I just came by to... uh... apologise about earlier. It came across wrong. I mean, I do need your help, but that was secondary" Lance brightened up. His posture taller and his smile less fake "It's fine. It wasn't a good time, work and all that..." "Yeah?" "Yeah, man. It's all good. I'm actually in the middle of something... but we should talk?" "That would be nice. I'm heading off again tonight, but I'll call you?" Lance nodded, though that tinge of real smile was gone again "Sounds good. If you remember to send me those files, I'll take a look" "Are you sure?" "Can't let my down the former leader of Voltron, can I?" If it was Hunk, Lance would have been joking how he couldn't let down his "best bud" "Yeah. I'll let you get back to it" "Thanks. I'll be waiting for that call" "I've actually got some time off, so I promise not to forget" Forcing himself off the wall and to walk past Lance, the sweet scent of flowers met his nose in the moment their shoulders brushed. Lance had always taken care of himself, so no doubt he was reading everything wrong.

[softethan]

Idk but I would love to see you write something for grames about James new tweet

For reference:

But oh my god have you been looking at mine and Louise and nic’s gc bc that was literally the last thing I sent her. anyway here you go anon.

||||||||||

James threw his phone against the bed with a frustrated sigh. He’d thought things were going well with this new guy: he was cute, honest, so smart, showed an interest in James’ career— until he’d gotten a text that had changed all of that.

Hi, J. I’m sorry, I just got to thinking last night and we’re not gonna work out. You’re so loud and you love to be into everything and I can’t date someone in the public eye. I’m not ready for it. Wish you the best.

Which, fuck him for leading James on and making James think they had even a slither of a hope together. They always did this. They loved the fame, the money, the promise of prestige, but the first time James actually had to work everything went to shit.

He grabbed his phone again and sent out a tweet, not even bothering to read it before he was pressing the blue button. He hugged his knees to his chest and shoved his face between his knees and cried.

James’ phone was bursting with notifications when he finally got up the will-power to climb out of bed and start his routine. He didn’t bother checking it right off, knowing there would be the usual “you deserve it,” tweets and comments thrown at him. He wanted to be at home, with Drew and a pint of ice cream but he had to work— he always had work.

He heard Linda’s text tone and grabbed his phone from the dresser. James started to reply when a familiar name crossed the screen and he smiled, exiting out of Linda’s contact and into Grayson’s.

i never liked his bitchass anyway

Which, who would have thought that Grayson would be the one person James could always count on to tell him how shitty the guys he dated were.

James’ face crooked into a smile and his fingers were clicking away on the keys almost immediately.

I don’t think I did either

When will you be home?

Tuesday

James twirled the phone between his fingers and waited for Grayson to answer back. Why was he even up at this absolutely ungodly hour (he’d never understand how the boy went to sleep at 8 and woke up even earlier)?

let us take you out

gray I really don’t want to do that

then just come hang out with us. We haven’t seen you in like a year james

You saw me two weeks ago, Grayson

Best two weeks of my life, honestly

GRAY

just kidding. But really. Come hang out. I miss you.

Fine, fine. I’ve gotta go Gray. I’ll see you when I get home

And if James caught himself smiling and much happier than he’d been before, that wasn’t anyone’s business but his.

||||||||

James tugged his luggage into his house and yelped (screamed) when he say Grayson sitting on his couch with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Hi.”

“What the hell, Grayson!”

“I wanted to surprise you. E and Emma are off doing who knows what, and I was bored and Ian was home and then I just decided to stay until you came home so—“ all of this was one breath and faster than James had ever heard him talk and it sounded partially made up but James was too tired to really care about anything at all.

“I was really hoping to get some sleep, Gray.” Which was true. Partially. He wanted to get at least an hour or two before Henry came by to pick up the few shirts he’d left before he’d broken James’ heart.

“That’s okay. I’ll just hang out down here. I was in the middle of a game anyway.” James lip quirked into a smile and he shook his head fondly.

“Go home, Gray. I’m just gonna sleep until Henry gets here to get his things and then I’m going back to bed.” He was exasperated, frustrated, and he didn’t want to explain (didn’t need to explain) to Grayson why James was so hell bent on him going home.

“He’s coming by here?”

And honestly, what else should he have expected from Grayson.

“Just to grab some clothes he left after he spent the night.”

“He spent the night?” Grayson tone rose and he quirked an eyebrow and he was nearly off the couch completely when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” James responded, thankful for the break in a conversation Grayson had no business starting.

The door swung open and Henry stood outside, a small duffle unzipped and ready.

“I, uh. I figured I’d just let you do it,” he explained as he handed James the bag. James mouth hung open and he looked at Henry confused and exasperated at the man’s ignorance.

“Why don’t you take the clothes James has ready for you and leave?” Grayson’s voice came from behind James’ ear and a protective hand rested on the small of his back.

Henry didn’t need much more warning, considering Grayson had a good 4 inches on him and at least 100 pounds.

When the door closed and James could relax, he swatted at Grayson’s chest.

“You asshole! You scared him,” he squealed, his tone playful and thankful.

“I can’t believe he was gonna make you pack it,” Grayson chuckled as he plopped down beside James on the couch. His arm rested lightly behind James head and his thigh touched James’ knees where they were crossed.

Their laughter died down and Grayson glanced over at James.

“I’m sorry I butted in, J.”

“No, it’s fine! He was an asshole and he deserved to pack his own clothes.”

“No, J. I, uh, I told him to break up with you.”

The house was quiet save for the washing machine going in the garage and Ian’s clicking and tapping coming from upstairs.

“You what?” James’ words hissed through his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Thursday morning I text him and— and asked him if he was going to be okay with us hanging out now and— James, he wasn’t a good guy.” Grayson fished desperately for a reasoning to what he’d done to keep James from having someone who cared about him, finally.

“So you’re telling me, that the one guy I’ve found who I actually really liked and who really liked me — Grayson, you told him to dump me?” James was seething. He crawled off the couch and stood up to pace in front of Grayson.

“James, I never told him to break up with you, that was all on him. But — But I didn’t discourage it either and I — James, I’m sorry,” Grayson murmured. “I told him we were filming a collab with you and asked if he’d help because it was a surprise and he— James he pretty much said if E and I filmed with you he wouldn’t keep dating you.”

James was quiet for a long time. Eventually he sat down beside Grayson and thought, long and hard, about what this meant.

“And you told him?”

“That you’d never give up your friends for a guy.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes you know me better than I know myself.”

“That happens when you love someone.”

A long pause as they registered the confession Grayson had just slipped out.

“What?” James whispered, quieter than he’d been in months. His voice was small and hopeful.

“When you love someone,” Grayson cleared his throat and tried to gather up the courage to say what he wanted to. “You do strange things for them because you know them better than they do.” Grayson sat up straight and watched for James’ reaction, cracking a smile when James realized what Grayson had said.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Kiss me?”

“Absolutely.”

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (Ch. 14)

Summary: Life as the "spare to the heir" isn't all that it's cracked up to be when you're the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don't know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature 

Tag List: @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @profdanglaisstuff @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat

A/N: In this chapter’s flashback scene, there’s a certain pair of shoes that Killian kept a certain piece of jewelry in during the last chapter. Happy Saturday, friends!

Entire story found on ao3 | here |

When Killian and Emma get home from their trip late that afternoon, the sun just beginning to set over the walls of Kensington, Abigail and Liam are taking their children for a walk in the gardens between their apartments, the little ones all bundled up to combat the mid-January evening chill. When the two of them see his brother’s family, Emma drops her bag, kisses his cheek, her lips cold against the heat of his skin, and then she’s practically sprinting over to Abigail, scooping Alexander up on the way before throwing her open arm around Abigail’s neck and hanging on for dear life. He has no bloody idea what’s going on until Emma pulls back from Abigail and he hears a literal, actual high-pitched squeal.

(From Abigail)

She’s obviously told Abigail about the proposal, the women and Alex now looking at Emma’s hand or more likely the ring gracing it and chatting with each other by the time that Killian makes it over there, their bags left where he was standing when Emma ran off.

“Congratulations,” Liam greets, cheery smile on his face as he pulls Killian into an embrace that’s more welcome than not. “I see you’ve finally asked Emma here to marry you.”

Seven months ago Liam had a bloody meltdown over the idea of Killian marrying Emma, and while Killian will never forget those words, he’s moved on from them. As has Liam who has been consistently working on being the brother Killian has always deserved but has just recently gotten at twenty-nine years old.

Sometimes he wonders what it would have been like to cut himself off from his family to be with Emma, but he finds that he likes having so many people to love…and who love him. Better late than never.

“Aye,” Killian laughs before leaning over to kiss Abigail’s cheek in greeting, doing the same to little Alex, finding the tiny scrap of skin exposed through his clothes, and grabbing Elizabeth’s tiny foot through her bootie, “and luckily for me, she said yes.”

Emma smiles softly at him in response to his words, her green eyes bright against the tan of her skin that looks almost out of place in the muted colors of a Kensington winter.

“Oh, tell me all about how it happened,” Abigail sighs, reaching into the stroller to hold Elizabeth so that the babe can get some of Abigail’s body heat, rocking her back in forth in her embrace like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He supposes it is. “Killian is sucha romantic, and he’s been planning this for a long while, months really. I’ve never seen a man so excited to be engaged. I bet it was wonderful.”

Emma’s eyebrows move across her forehead before her lips turn up on the right in a smirk at all of this information she’s getting from Abigail. He’s going to have to start keeping secrets from Abigail, too, if she’s going to share everything and cause his cheeks to heat.

“Darling,” Liam coos as he moves to wrap his arm around his wife’s waist and protect Elizabeth from the cold as well, “why don’t we give them some time to settle back in before we grill them for all of the details?”

“Oh, I’m hyped on coffee,” Emma laughs, balancing Alex on her hip before handing him over to Killian so that Killian can at least try to pretend that Alex loves him nearly as much as Alex loves Emma. “Let’s go inside because it’s freezing, and then I shall tell you every detail of how Killian was shaking in his boots and practically flung his shoe in the ocean while trying to get the ring out of it.”

That gets him some weird looks as they go to Emma and Killian’s apartment, the Christmas decorations still up, and that distracts Alexander enough so that he plays with his toys they keep here for him while the four of them chat about the trip, Emma rocking Elizabeth back and forth because apparently she’ll start wailing if she stops moving and Emma was insistent that she get to know the little lass a bit better.

Eventually Emma has to get up and run to the restroom, so she hands Elizabeth off to Killian because she knows he’s been practically aching to hold her all evening. She’s nearly two months old now, and Killian has missed over half of her life being gone for trips, one business and one pleasure. He knows that the little love will never know that, but he still feels the slightest tinge of guilt at not being here to help out with everything, even if he knows his brother and Abigail have a nanny to help them out when they’re not around or need to sleep. He’s always been there for Alex, and he plans to do the same with Elizabeth. She’s already enraptured him.

Emma comes back into the room, settling down next to him on the couch, and he sees her not so slyly try to snap a picture of he and Elizabeth, who has fallen asleep in his arms, surprisingly thick head of dark hair rubbing against his forearm while he supports the little lass’s head and gently rocks her so she doesn’t wake.

It’s a good time, even when Liam and Abigail start talking about how hectic it was planning their wedding and the details that go into it. Emma’s eyes go wide next to him, and Abigail must see that because she has to assure Emma that they will have all of the help they’ll ever need planning. All Emma really has to do is say yes or no and help design her dress, or dresses really since she’ll have two. He cannot wait to see her walking down the aisle. It doesn’t matter that millions across the world will watch along with the hundreds or thousands in attendance.

At the end of the day, it’s just them. It’s just Killian and Emma.

“Emmy?” Alex ponders, “You go bye bye.”

“I did go bye bye, buddy, but I’m here now.”

(She’s here. Always.)

He seems to be satisfied with her answer before going back to his toys. It’s only later that he crawls up into Killian’s lap and snuggles against his stomach, mumbling that Killian went bye bye, too.

Eventually Liam, Abigail, and the kids leave, and despite Emma claiming to be hyped up on coffee, the exhaustion from travel gets to the both of them, and they fall asleep in the living room, only waking when Killian’s phone goes off.

“Who is calling you at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s not yet nine in the evening, love.”

“That’s far past talking hours.”

He looks down to see his father’s name on his phone, and Killian groggily swipes his finger across the screen, holding up the phone to his ear and mumbling a tired hello.

Killian talks to Brennan for a little while longer, murmuring words into the phone even if all he wants to do is sleep, the plane ride having worn him out to the point that he’s barely a functioning human. His dad simply wants to have lunch tomorrow to discuss the engagement now that it’s official (Killian and Emma and called all of their parents to make sure every one of them knew before they got home in case the news somehow got out, but they still have to see everyone in person to truly celebrate) and to begin discussing all of the preliminary discussions for their future nuptials.

Killian remembers when Liam got married, just being on the periphery of the event, how incredibly detailed and, frankly, mad the whole thing was. Abigail was kind earlier when she simplified the planning process, but it was much more complicated than that. It took hundreds of thousands of people to plan, nondisclosure agreements being signed every other minute, and somehow his family managed to spend hundreds of millions of dollars on the events. Of course, Liam and Abigail’s wedding brought in at least double what it cost for tourism, but all Killian can think about is how as much as this day is going to be about he and Emma, it’s also going to be about the country and the Crown.

So now they have lunch plans with Killian’s parents tomorrow and dinner plans with David and Mary Margaret, and they really should have combined the two meals despite the fact that the meal with his parents will have to mostly be about official duties and what comes next. Just the typical things that come along with marrying into his family.

Their own kind of normal.

After his phone call, he and Emma do manage to make it all the way upstairs, struggling through their nightly routines before collapsing on their bed, Emma moaning about how good it is to be home. It really is.

“I’m nervous,” Emma admits while they’re getting ready for lunch the next day, the both of them dressing in jeans and sweaters. “Like, I haven’t been this nervous since I met your family for the first time, and that was a train wreck. Like, a train wreck where everything is on fire even though it’s underwater.”

He thinks that metaphor went a little…off the tracks, but he’s just going to keep that to himself at this point in time. He’ll make that pun later.

“It’s not going to be like that again. My family loves you.”

“Albert doesn’t.”

“Well, nobody bloody cares what Albert thinks, and Dad’s threatened to take away his titles and therefore his money, so he’ll basically be a monk practicing silence from now on.”

She lets out what basically equates to a pity chuckle before she begins bouncing her legs up and down at her vanity while she does her makeup. She really is so nervous that she might start an earthquake throughout all of England.

“Hey,” he urges before sitting down next to her on her bench, “what are you nervous about?”

She shakes her head from side to side before applying her blush.

“Tell me, love.”

Emma finishes coloring her cheeks before putting her brush down and turning to face him. “What if they’re all gung ho about all of this, and then your dad sees me with this ring and is, like, holy fuck I can’t let my son marry this girl?” Her leg is still shaking and her lips are pulled back against her teeth, the pretty pink disappearing into her skin while her eyes stay open like she’s forgotten how to blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

“What if it does?”

“Emma Nolan, I will notlie to you, and I am not lying when I say that there is absolutely no way that my parents are going to suddenly have some kind of revelation and think you’re anything less than perfect for me and for this family.” He places his right hand on her left hand before pulling it to his lips and kissing her knuckles right by her engagement ring. “Now, do you want me to reschedule until you’re more comfortable, or are you okay going today?”

“No, no,” she sighs, getting up from the bench and adjusting her jeans, brushing at the imaginary lint, “I can go today. Just don’t let me drink coffee when we’re there because it’ll make me all jittery and nervous.”

“I thought that was just your natural state.”

She smacks his ass as he walks out of the bathroom. That’s the Emma he knows and loves.

Emma has relaxed after the length of the car ride to Windsor, where his parents have decided to stay after spending the past few weeks in Sandringham for all of the Christmas holidays and weeks thereafter.

“You know,” Killian croons as they pull through security, “this is probably where we’ll get married. In St. George’s Chapel.”

“Really?” Her eyes are bright as she leans over him to look at the exterior. “Can I see the inside of it?”

“I’ll have to check and see if I can take you on a tour if we have time after lunch,” Killian assures as he turns into their parking area, “but I promise you’ll see it before any decisions are made.”

By the time they make it to the informal dining room, it’s fifteen after when they were supposed to meet his parents, and when Killian opens the door, Brennan and Allison are standing almost directly by the entryway, their hands twined together and their feet taping so much like Emma’s had earlier. When they see he and Emma, his mother’s eyes squint as her entire face blooms into a smile while his father simply nods while his lips press together in a subtle grin, and even if Killian told Emma not to be nervous, he is incredibly relieved to see this reaction.

Old habits and thoughts die hard, he guesses.

“Good afternoon,” Killian laughs when neither of them make a move to say anything. “Are you guys practicing being statues?”

They both seem to snap out of whatever trance they’re in, releasing each other’s hands and moving forward to embrace both he and Emma, his mother squeezing the life out of Emma while his father buries his head in Killian’s neck, whispering congratulations to him while his mother audibly talks to Emma.

“Oh, let me see the ring on your finger, darling,” Allison fusses, pulling back from Emma and holding onto her left hand and admiring the diamonds. “This is just stunning. You know, Killian designed this?”

“I did know that.” Emma looks over to him and gives him a soft smile before nodding at the tight grip his mum has on her hand. “Who knew he was such a good jewelry designer? I think he’s missed his calling.”

“Allison,” Brennan nudges, taking Emma’s hands out of his wife’s and admiring the ring, “you’ve got to let me give the girl a hug. And possibly embrace your son, too. You know, he’s also getting married to this lovely lady who far outshines her ring.”

Emma’s cheeks immediately pink, and he feels like his heart is stuck in his throat, but in the best way possible. He doesn’t get much of a chance to think about that, though, because his mother’s tiny frame is embracing him, and he hasn’t been this fully, completely happy in a long time.

They sit to eat lunch, a winter salad full of chicken, beets, walnuts, and the like, and the conversation flows. His mother wants to know all about how it happened, laughing at Killian keeping the ring in his shoe and practically passing out on the beach (At least, that’s how Emma describes it. He wasn’t thatnervous…or maybe he was.) and then awing in all the right places when he and Emma recount all of the words he said. He honestly doesn’t remember everything, the words a bit of a blur, but Emma seems to remember it all. Good, it was all for her anyway.

Maybe a little bit for him.

Or a lot.

Okay, so it was…is for the both of them. Definitely.

His parents manage to hold off on all of the official Royal Family business until after they’ve eaten and moved to one of the sitting rooms for tea and coffee (which Emma drinks even if she was trying not to be jittery), like the blended British and American family that they are. Of course, he much prefers the coffee to the tea anyhow.

He’s apparently always been a bit of a rebel.

“So, I don’t know how much Killian has told you, Emma darling, or how much Allison’s aide has taught you with your lessons,” Brennan begins, taking a sip of tea before putting it on the side table, “but you’ve got quite the big change coming up.”

“That’s about all I know, to be honest. Everything’s been kind of vague, but I’m up for the challenge.”

She’s got her hands clasped in her lap and her feet crossed at her ankles, and he doesn’t know if she thinks she has to be in proper position for this lunch or if it’s just becoming a natural state when in places other than home. Emma Nolan, the woman who sits cross legged on kitchen countertops in nothing but a t-shirt with her hair sticking up all over the place and her glasses sliding off her nose is also the woman who now knows royal protocol and how to sit and speak when at official engagements.

It’s the smallest thing, and while he knows it’s a bit ridiculous, it shows how much she’s done just to be with him, how much she’s willing to do because she loves him. Sometimes he wonders if he does enough to show that he loves her. He likes to think that he does. She tells him that he does. She doesn’t complain about the changes in her life or the hoops she has to jump through, and Emma really is the most remarkable woman.

She’s going to break protocol all of the time, just because of who she is. She’ll show him public displays of affection or talk to someone for too long, giving hugs when she’s only supposed to give handshakes. He does the same thing. He used to be chastised for those things, but he imagines that he won’t anymore.

He reaches over to place his palm over her twined hands before his father continues.

“Well, good,” Brennan smiles, “because I’ve got a challenge for you.”

They have to pick a date, one that doesn’t interfere with any outstanding events or holidays. Their wedding will most likely be made into an official bank holiday, and Emma’s eyes go wide at that. Contracts will need to be made, staff for Emma will need to be hired, flowers grown, invitations designed, titles distributed, a dress (or two) made for Emma, and basically everything that comes with planning a wedding...greatly enhanced.

“Furthermore, darlings,” Allison continues on for Brennan, “Emma will start going on your official duties with you. The first of all being your engagement announcement and then the interview with the BBC.”

“Honestly,” Emma admits, “that’s what has me shaking in my boots right now. I can shake hands and kiss cheeks, but me talking on national television seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“We’ll make it as comfortable as possible. It’ll be just you, Killian, and whoever they send for the interview. You’ll know the questions ahead of time, and they’ll just be simple things like how you met or how he proposed and how you’re adjusting to your new life.”

“I’ll always be by your side, Emma,” Killian comforts, squeezing his hand over hers. “You’re a natural with people, and I’m sure you’ll be a natural on camera. I mean, I do it all of the time, and I don’t seem too awkward, do I?”

“Sure, babe. Whatever you think.” Emma pauses, and her lips part the slightest bit, like she has something she wants to say but isn’t sure if she should say it. “What about June eighth? For the wedding date? I know it’s on a Saturday this year, so that would mean no bank holiday, but I think that’s a good date since I know that weddings happen pretty quickly around here.”

“Why June eighth?” Brennan inquires.

Killian knows why.

“It’s our anniversary.”

“Hey,” he greets as he stumbles through the door, shedding his damp jacket and stepping into the relative dryness of the pub compared to the continual rain that seems to be falling from the heavens with no plans to cease, “are you guys open yet? I could use a drink. I’ve got a big anniversary to celebrate tonight.”

Emma stops wiping down the tables, tossing her wipes down on the wooden seat, before walking over to him and pressing up on her toes as she’s wrapping her arms around his neck, her smile coy as she hovers just the slightest bit too far away from him.

“We don’t open for three hours, but I think we can make an exception for someone who has a big anniversary tonight.” She cards her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and she looks so beautiful and happy, so unlike the last time he saw her. “Unless, you know, you’re one year sober or something like that.”

“It’s not something like that.”

He dips his head down to kiss Emma while she presses up further on her toes, his hands sliding into the back pockets of her jeans to pull her body further into him so that he can feel all of her.

“Happy first anniversary, Killian,” Emma whispers against his lips while her forehead presses against him. “It’s felt like a lifetime.”

“That’s not a good thing, love,” he chuckles before squeezing her bottom.

“You know what I meant.”

“I do.” He kisses her again before sliding his hands out of her pockets and turning her around, pushing her forward so that she stumbles out of the entryway of the pub and back toward the sitting areas. “Do you need help setting up for this afternoon before we do lunch?”

She contemplates her options for a moment, running her hands through her loose braid so that it comes even further undone before tossing him the container of wipes. “You can finish wiping down the tables and booths while I get the glasses out of the dishwasher, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The two of them finish working, preparing the pub for the night while music plays through the speakers. David and Mary Margaret eventually come downstairs to help, and when they all finish setting up, they eat a late lunch upstairs, spooning a casserole into their mouths while they watch the television.

“So what are the two of you doing for your anniversary?” Mary Margaret questions while the afternoon news flickers across the screen, a video of his father shaking hands with the Prime Minister after one of his quarterly meetings where Brennan goes to the Prime Minister instead of the Prime Minster coming to him, but then it quickly changes to a football match and his father’s face is gone.

“I’m working, Mom,” Emma mumbles with the casserole in her mouth. “Remember?”

“I’m almost positive we gave you the day off.”

Emma rolls her eyes at her mother’s reminder.

“Yeah, you did, but then both Will and Kat called out sick.”

“Em, it’s fine,” David assures her while picking up everyone’s plates and taking them to the kitchen to put in the sink. “Your mom and I can take care of it. You two should do something fun.”

Emma shrugs her shoulders. “You guys don’t have to do that. We’re fine right, babe?”

She looks over at him across the room, and he knows just by the way she’s worrying her lip between her teeth that she’d love the day off, but she doesn’t want to leave her parents in the lurch. “No, take the night off. We’ll do something fun like your dad suggested.”

Her lips part like she’s going to protest, but then she’s nodding her head up and down. “What are we going to do?”

Later that evening once David and Mary Margaret have opened the pub, he’s zipping up one of David’s raincoats, his regular coat from earlier not enough to protect from the water, so that it covers his chin, putting his hat on before sliding the hood over his hair while Emma slips into a pair of yellow wellies and a rain jacket herself.

“So your idea of us doing something fun is going for a walk in the pouring rain?”

She looks like she is one hundred percent not here for this idea, her brows furrowed and her eyes slanted as she studies him like she’s waiting for him to tell her that he’s kidding, but this is an opportunity for them to get out and about, even if it does require walking in the rain.

“Yep,” he confirms, popping the ‘p” before moving to pull Emma’s hood over her hair and tucking the stray strands behind her ears and tapping her shoulders while she scrunches her nose. He loves when she scrunches her nose. He loves her, and he really cannot believe she’s stuck with him for an entire year. Best bloody year of his life. “Think about it. No one will be out and about, and we won’t run the risk of being seen as anything other than two lunatics who want to catch a cold.”

“We’re totally going to catch a cold, Killian.”

“Without a doubt,” he agrees, sliding his phone in his back pocket and leading them out of the apartment, slipping out the side door of the pub and onto the practically empty streets of London that are slick with the rainfall that’s been pounding down all day.

He has no idea where he’s going. It’s not that he’s not familiar with the area, but he doesn’t have a destination in mind as Emma loops her arms through his elbow and they aimlessly wander outside while debating the merits of American television versus British television. He knows that he can’t stray too far from the pub, his deal with his security detail for them to keep quiet about where he spends his time depends on never straying too far away from Emma’s place without proper notice, but eventually they walk far enough to see the river and find a bench under a cluster of trees that keeps it mostly dry from the elements.

There are still boats and ships cruising by, some of them commercial while others have fairy lights strung up across the decks where parties were obviously supposed to happen before the rain started. Whoever decided to host an outdoor event in London in June is obviously one for placing bets and wishing on stars that the weather will be pleasant.

“I’m sorry about last week.”

His head snaps toward Emma who is staring out at the water and watching one of the boats with the lights flickering across the deck. Her face is all contorted in the way that it is when she’s upset about something, her bottom lip jutting out instead of being pulled between her lips and her eyes somehow even brighter as unshed tears linger there.

They were in an argument last week because Emma had been pissed at her parents while he felt the same about his own, and they took it out on each other, snide comments and biting remarks over Killian scuffing up the bar with his shoes and Emma picking up extra shifts even on the days that he had time to visit. That’s half the reason he was so insistent that she take time off for them to go out tonight, even if it is just them sitting on a public bench catching pneumonia. The entire thing was idiotic and frustrating and petty as hell, and they need quality time together.

They didn’t get it last week because Killian had been too cross to stay, and Emma had been too frustrated to let him. So he’d left, and he hadn’t been able to come back, a week full of engagements and meetings and only resolving things between the two of them over a phone call or two between his obligations.

It’s like he’s always obligated to something when he wants to be obligated to Emma.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, love,” he promises, watching the boats move across the water as well. “We were both cross with our parents, and we became cross with each other. I thought we talked through things.”

A small chuckle passes through Emma’s lips before she pats his leg, quick enough that it could have been a leaf blowing if he hadn’t seen her hand move and heard the rustle of the material of her raincoat.

“I lied to you last week,” Emma admits, and he’s honestly shocked by that. They don’t lie to each other, and if they do, they’re apparently damn good at hiding it. “And don’t freak out because it wasn’t something bad. It was a money thing.”

“Emma,” he sighs, because they’ve had this money talk several times before, and he thought maybe she was beginning to understand that her not being as financially well off as him doesn’t matter. He’d give it all up for her in an instant. “I thought we talked about – ”

“We did,” she interrupts, and he wishes he could see her face under the hood of her coat, but she’s pulled it across her face to keep his gaze away. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

She groans before turning her head to look at him and propping her head up on her hand on the back of the bench, some of her hair escaping out of the hood and frizzing when the rain hits it.

“I took extra shifts because I was trying to buy you those loafers you were talking about a few weeks ago to give you today, but they didn’t have your size in the store and I had to order them online. So basically, I lied to you like the people in The Gift of the Magi, but I’m assuming you didn’t sell your feet to buy me something so we should be okay.”

He lifts his feet and wiggles his toes through the boots just to prove that they’re still there, like he somehow could have done what she said. Emma Nolan is his favorite part of every day of his life, he’s a fan of every part of her, and he would be happy to sell his feet or his clothes or his whole damn apartment just to be with her. She doesn’t have to do anything but be herself, but it means the world to him that she would put in that much effort simply to give him a pair of dress shoes that he casually mentioned three or four weeks ago.

“First of all,” he begins, taking her free hand and bringing it to his lips, the skin tasting like rain water when his lips press against it, “I love you. That’s the most important thing. Second of all, I cannot wait to rock those shoes.” He moves his hand to her cheek, caressing her face while she turns her head and kisses his palm. “And we’re obviously never going to have a normal relationship, my love, and as sweet as you doing that for me is, please don’t lie to me about things like that. We don’t lie, remember? We’re honest and truthful about what we’re feeling. That’s the only thing that makes this work, and I sure as hell want this to work.”

He sees her eyes flutter closed, eyelashes almost invisible free of makeup and hidden in the darkness of the night sky. Water drips off of her hood and a single droplet lands on her cheek, running down her skin until it’s gone.

“I just,” she begins, and he sees a tear slip from her eyes to replace the rain droplet, “I feel like you are always doing so much for me, and I don’t want us to be unequal partners in this. I know I’m usually happy, but God, Killian, I’ve never done anything like you and me before. It’s scary and overwhelming and – ”

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

“Then trust me,” he moves to swipe away her tears with his knuckles, and there’s the smile he loves, “that no part of me thinks this is an unequal partnership, and if you think that, we’re going to work on fixing that, aye?”

She nods her head and then twists her body so that she can press her lips against his, his hat flipping upward when her nose presses into his face and her lips become more insistent against him. When it completely falls off his head, his hood coming off with it, Emma pulls back and laughs against his face before pulling his hat and hood back over him.

“You’re a good man, Killian, and I’m so glad that I kissed you that night, even if my dad saw us dry humping on the bar and then we didn’t talk again until…well, until one year ago today.”

“I’m mostly just glad we moved past dry humping.” He pauses before nipping at her bottom lip. “I quite enjoy having sex with you.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but when they come back around, there’s a lightness in them that wasn’t there a moment ago. Maybe it’s because she just cried for a moment, but then her hand is inching up the inside of his thigh as slowly as she possibly can, her long fingernails pressing into his skin through his slacks. His breathing is suddenly a little heady as his eyes flicker between watching her hands and her face, her lips now tugging up on one side.

“Do you,” she whispers against his cheek, the closest she can get to his ear with the rain gear on, “want me to go run into that market and get us something to eat?”

She pulls back from him with a giggle, and he’s left sitting there with his lips parted and a seriously confused mind…and body. “What now?”

“Do you want something to eat?”

“But we were, we were ah – ”

“Killian,” she begins, getting up from the bench and shaking the water that’s accumulated while they’ve been sitting down off of her, “you’re going to need food to keep up your energy later, because we have the apartment to ourselves and there’s fun times to be had.”

She’s quite the little minx, isn’t she?

Later Emma is sitting on her bedroom floor in nothing but his t-shirt and the pair of riding boots (great minds think alike for anniversary gifts apparently) he bought her despite the summer weather hopefully coming soon. She’d had on the peal earrings he purchased, too, but she didn’t want to lose them, so they’re resting in her jewelry box now. She looks ridiculous when she gets the boots zipped up and stands from the floor, showing off her new look while he’s got his head propped in his hand as he’s stretched out on the bed.

“So,” she implores, testing out her walk with the heels, and he wishes his shirt were just the slightest bit shorter on her, “what do you think?”

“I think you should walk around like that all of the time, if I’m honest.”

“Oh really?” She walks toward her door, twisting the knob and looking back at him. “So if I walked downstairs to the pub right now, just like this, all those people drinking their beers and sipping on their whiskeys, you’d still want me to dress like this?”

She walks out of the room before he has the chance to answer, and he scrambles out of her bed so quickly, his legs getting caught in the sheets, that when he finds her simply leaning against the hallway wall with this fucking smirk on her face, arms crossed against her chest bringing her shirt higher up to expose more of her legs, he absolutely cannot believe she teased him like that.

Well, he can, but he almost fell on his face trying to get to her.

Happy anniversary to him.

“You a little jealous there, babe?”

“Never,” he lies, stepping closer to her so that their faces are only inches apart, breaths intermingling while his hands brace against the wall above her, “but you are a bloody tease, and your legs look fantastic right now.”

“Imagine how they’d feel wrapped around you again.”

And then she’s ducking underneath his arms and walking back into her bedroom, and this woman is the love of his life. He knows it.

When they finish lunch with his parents, wedding date set (and wow is that insane to know the day that he’s getting married to Emma) and a date scheduled for their engagement portraits as well as their interview and photo call with the press, plus a few other appointments scheduled for the actual wedding planning, they have to hurry home to meet Emma’s parents who just texted Emma to let them know that they are on their way over which means they’ll likely be stuck sitting outside of their front door until Emma and Killian get there.

Sure enough, David and Mary Margaret Nolan are sitting on a bench right outside their door and similarly to when Emma saw Abigail yesterday, she takes off at breakneck speed and runs into her mother’s arms, visibly squeezing tight. By the time he catches up, she’s moved onto hugging David and he’s cupping the back of Emma’s hair, whispering something in her ear that has Emma nodding her head against him. Killian’s distracted by their embrace, and all he wants is to have a relationship like that with his own children one day, but then Mary Margaret’s small frame is embracing him, too, and while he’s not much of a crier, he has to choke back a sob at Mary Margaret’s words.

“I’m so glad it’s you,” she whispers into his ear, pressing up on her toes and kissing his cheek.

“I am, too.”

David embraces him as well, making a joke about being relieved that Killian finally popped the question because damn has it been hard to keep things from Mary Margaret. The Nolans have taught him a lot over the past half of a decade, like what it’s like to be good parents, how to work hard even if the work isn’t always enjoyable, what it’s like to be a cohesive, loving family, and mostly what a solid, devoted relationship looks like. Yes, his parents love each other, and yes, he knows now how they are not the distant couple he once thought they were. But it’s David and Mary Margaret who have taught him what it’s like to still be romantic three decades into a relationship (much to Emma’s dismay sometimes), or how to work through a rut or an argument in a way that’s not yelling and storming out of the room, even if that took awhile to learn. They’ve been there for him with his own family issues. They’ve been there for him even when he’s had issues with Emma, even if that’s their daughter they’re giving him relationship advice on, and as glad as they are to be having him as an official part of their family, it cannot compare to how thrilled he is to be a part of theirs.

The four of them make their way inside, heading into the kitchen and standing on opposite sides of the island while Emma fills in her parents on everything they talked about with his parents today, and when she tells them they already have a wedding date, her parents suddenly go silent like their tongues have been tied.

“What?” Emma nervously questions, her hand blindly reaching behind her in an attempt to find his. He doesn’t see it until she taps against his stomach, and that’s when he finally grabs it, holding her palm and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles to try to soothe her. “Why do you guys look like I just dumped a bucket of ice water on you and then made you go stand outside in the cold?”

“It’s just,” David begins, his stomach pressed against the counter, “we’ve known you were engaged for about a week now, and I find out that I am walking you down the aisle in a little under five months.” David pauses, and Killian sees his throat move when he gulps. “I do get to walk you down the aisle, right?”

“Of course, Dad,” Emma reassures, releasing Killian’s hand so that she can take her father’s hand in her own, “why would you think otherwise?”

David shrugs, and Killian’s heart aches over the fact that even though Killian vividly remembers David making a joke about their wedding being televised when Killian told him his intentions toward Emma, he still thought he might not get to walk his only daughter, his only child, down the aisle.

“Because,” Mary Margaret answers for David, “as much as you are just Killian to us, you’re not to the rest of the world, and it’s not like this is going to be any other wedding.”

“Guys, there’s going to be fanfare and traditions and a lot of things that we won’t understand, but at the end of the day, it’s simply Killian and me getting married. Dad, you’ll walk me down the aisle, and, Mom, you’ll help me get ready before you both give a super embarrassing speech at one of the receptions.”

“One of?”

“There are two,” Killian explains, and Emma’s parents look about as shocked as Emma when she found this out last night. “An afternoon tea my father will host full of all of the political and royal figures we invite, and then that night we’ll have an actual reception with drinking and dancing with a smaller group of people.”

“That sounds like quite the wedding,” Mary Margaret comments before placing her hand over Emma and David’s, and he’s so glad that they can have moments like this, “but I am thrilled. My baby is getting married to the most wonderful man alive.”

“I mean, I thought that was me, so Killian can be the second most wonderful man alive.”

Both Nolan women slap at David’s chest, and David winks at Killian in a way that reminds Killian so much of Emma that he almost has whiplash.

After the Nolans leave, he and Emma head upstairs to go to bed, or at least that’s what he thought they were going to do before Emma strips down to her knickers and starts trying on every dress in the closet, tossing them to the ground if she doesn’t like them while he watches in fascination from his spot seated on the ottoman they keep in there.

She puts on a stunning black gown that’s basically like a second skin, and he’d really like to know when she got that and why he hasn’t seen it, but then she’s shimmying out of it as well and laying it over the island. This is like the least erotic strip tease he’s ever seen.

“Emma, darling, what in the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I’m trying to find something to wear,” she motions toward all of the clothes everywhere, “for when we have all of that engagement stuff to do, for the pictures and the photo call and the interview, and I don’t know what’s appropriate for girlfriend Emma versus fiancé Emma.”

She’s freaking out, and he wasn’t really expecting that after the wonderful day they’ve had. But it does make sense with all of the overwhelming information she’s learned of their upcoming nuptials and her duties. It’s different thinking about them as a concept versus them being a reality.

“Hey,” he soothes, “come here.”

Her shoulders sag forward before she sullenly makes her way over to him, stopping just out of reach until he leans forward to grab her hips and starts rubbing his thumbs over her underwear while he looks up at her.

“You don’t have to worry about that today.”

“But I do have to worry about it.”

He gently yanks her toward him until she bends down and perches herself on his right thigh, reaching forward to cup his cheek and run her fingers across his skin.

“Not tonight,” he soothes, kissing her jaw, “and not alone. I know it’ll take some getting used to having people help dress you and do your hair and makeup, but we have that so that you can be less stressed. And eventually you’ll be an expert in all of this. You’re a quick study, my darling.”

“I just don’t want to do something wrong or upset the balance in your family any more than I have.”

“Is that what’s bothering you? You think you could somehow do something wrong?”

“I mean, yeah. Killian, I’m not blind. I grew up with you on the news and with your brother on the news. I know the types of girls you’re expected to marry, and even if I know nothing is going to change you and me and your family is okay with me now, but your dad kept talking about how much crazier the attention is going to get. Right now, the world thinks I’m this girl you’ve been dating for a few months. What’s going to happen when they find out we’re engaged?”

“Well, we’re going to get married.”

She rolls her eyes before resting her forehead against him. “I’m serious. What if people hate me? What if they think I dress horribly or, more importantly, what if they think that I cannot do good work to help better the country and the world through all of the work you do and the work I’m going to do?”

“Not everyone is going to like you, darling. I wish it wasn’t so, but it’s true. Not everyone likes me, and as long as we keep you away from the comment section on the internet, you’ll never have to know about the false nastiness that people spew.”

He pauses for a moment before moving forward to bite at her bottom lip while his hands run along her thigh. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I like you.”

“Yeah,” she laughs against his lips, “I got that with you pulling the whole Beyoncé putting a ring on it thing.” He pinches her thigh, and she practically flies off of his lap as she squeals, “What was that for, you crazy man?”

“You’re supposed to say it back.”

“Well, you’re not supposed to pinch your fiancée like you’re some kind of five year old.”

She walks out of the closet after that, and he knows she’s not agitated by the way she sways her hips. And he really knows she’s not agitated from the way her bra lands at his feet after she throws it through the doorway. “I like you, Killian. Come to bed.”

[ruwithmeguys]

Arrow Season 7 wishlist

I had a season 6 wish-list: about half of them came true.. Sadly, the rest didn’t and there were some really juicy ones.

In no particular order... (I’ll add to this as I go and please be assured; anything I say about characters relates in no way to the actors who portray them)

1) One of he NTA needs to go...

Okay, so this is a dark thought; especially to start off with. But they did this. The writers/creators/producers/executives; they screwed with characters many of us were warming to or flat out loved and forgot how loyal we are to OTA regardless. They FORGOT. I mean, I was very sure they were more attune to their audience than that and we were clearly wrong.

But not in every way. They got a lot right. I’m not holding a grudge; there’s no point. I... have no interest in Rene beyond Zoe, I do NOT like Curtis and Dinah... she shows potential.

But they can’t come back from the clusterfuck of the civil war arc. They can only push forwards. I’m doing the same.

The problem is that, until the majority of us see serious growth, something to keep us/me interested, we’re going to stay in the ‘I don’t give a crap’ squad, which tells me that maybe - just maybe - something huge is going to occur in the first or second episode to make us all spit out our food/drink during the airing of 7.01.

Unfortunately I couldn’t care less that Curtis has a boyfriend or that he’s working with Felicity. People who act likes dicks tend to get the good things in life. Granted he’s suffered: I understood Paul’s reason for divorcing him but his genuine desire to NOT fight for his marriage confused me. This and the fact that he seemed to just exist for a full season (5) made me feel reluctantly sympathetic. Especially when part of his literal reason for existence was to reunite Olicity who didn’t need his help but... that was his thing.

Now? Sympathetic? Not so much. He’s become a massive juvenile, callous and selfish hypocrite that makes us all question his existence on the show. Even his fans.

However, as the sole homosexual character on the show with a love interest, they won’t kill him off. He has zero SL. He very literally has to be joined to Felicity’s, each time. The boyfriend is the only difference. I can’t ‘like’ this person. The man needs to learn humility. He’s become unnecessary enough that he wasn’t even present in the trailer: the ONLY character who wasn’t in it. That’s a bold neon light on the truth right there. Being a judgemental ass is a bad look. 

I don’t have blind faith in Beth but I very much love everything she’s said about S7 so far. I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt THROUGHOUT the season. She’s already proven a better spokeswoman. It’s all good.

Dinah... there’s potential here. Now that she’s finally stepped off her high horse, I’m hoping Oliver’s incarceration will make her question her own horrible choices and what it REALLY means to be a masked vigilante, because she clearly didn’t know in S6. Thankfully, shes actually mentioned this. I don’t need a LI for her this season; that fell flat. Right now, I need her to find purpose that doesn’t make her a hypocritical ‘insert expletive’. 

(I’m a huge fan of love interests occurring when we least expect it: two people that shouldn't fit but do, which is part of the essence of Olicity)

Leaving the civil war arc behind, I still kind of like her. I WANT to like her again. 

Oliver went to prison for them all; surely that should change them all?

She, Rene, Curtis; they have no idea what true heroism means. They’re only in their second/third seasons and they still haven’t been through anything to close to one year of Oliver Queen’s life. 

I’d like to see her find this. And I’d like to see her change and accept responsibility for who she’s chosen to be. It would provide a nice mirror to BS’s viewpoint and actions in season 6.

But Rene... this one is dicey. While he made more headway than the other two, I felt it was partly undeserved. If he wasn’t obnoxious, he was confusing. When eh apologised, he managed to add in a few insults. That kind of, you know... nullifies the apology. But he got away with it. His ‘Hoss’ and ‘Blondie’ have gone dry. Over-dry. His zero care about going against Oliver on trial made his defence fall flat, even when Oliver showed distrust. The only time I liked him, was when he was with Zoe.

If any of them get killed, it will be Rene. I’m not saying it will happen; but IF it does, it’ll be Rene. 

So either... kill Rene or change all of them, because honestly at this point, most of us aren’t here for them.

2) If Felicity isn’t allowed friends, can we get a couple of scenes between her and Dinah or Lyla or both that aren’t all based on their night lives. Give me a few heartfelt moments. Give me something real to believe. Friendship is built; it doesn’t just exist because the writers tell us it does. Show not tell. A mistake made with LL in season 4. 

3) Reunion sex for Oliver and Felicity because, damn if they’ve been deprived. And, why not? I mean, chuck in some hot argument sex, some poignant love affirming sex, some flirty flirt sex, some nude shower scene sex, some epic love reaffirmations; go for it!

They've been put through shit; some of it because of friends. If even ONE friend cock-blocks them, this includes Diggle, they’re on my shit-list.

4) Give Oliver the agency he needs during this prison arc; let us see the process of him falling back into that dark place he started in, S1. Let us see him crawl back upwards without Felicity’s help. 

We know, thanks to Stephen, that Oliver has - in the 5 months since has incarceration - realised his choice was a ‘fucking bad choice’ in terms of what it’s done to Felicity and William. In fact I’d go out on the limb and say he knew that immediately when he got in the cell judging by the dead look in his eyes.

So let’s see him escape prison because this is BEGGING for a break out, and let us see him go to his family, because you know part of the reason he breaks out will be because of THEM. Because he HAS to. Because he’s needed.

Let’s see him and Felicity heal this forced separation, which was, at part, due to him. It was selfless, because he didn’t WANT to. He did it because he thought it was the right thing to do. He’s going to regret it and it’ll hurt to watch in all the best ways.

5) I’d enjoy a scene between Diggle and Felicity which focuses on him being there for her and mentioning that he wasn’t last season.

I’m sorry. I love Dig. But if he’d been there, Oliver might not have gone off on his own.

6) Given that this is a season about redemption, then can all characters be included?

Why? Well...

The theme redemption doesn’t just mean characters finding it, it means characters failing to reach it. People who may realise that it isn’t for them, like BS possibly. Or people who try really hard but can’t and are left devoid.

It involves characters who don’t need redeeming: people like Felicity who, this time, is done with reacting and is going to be proactive. Who deserves nothing but the happiness that has been robbed from her as a woman and as a wife.

It means understanding that redemption isn’t always clear cut and can mean unusual realities occurring.

It means the city, who need to open their eyes to what one man, his wife and his best friend did for their city all these years.

7) Focusing.

I won’t lie: I’m biased, BUT. I’m not wrong when I say Olicity need to be focused on this season. I’m not talking A full season: and there will be plenty of focus apart before they’re together. 

I’m talking time to focus on them as a couple. Separate from them as parents and them as parents, them as friends to others.

This is a normal thing: for a show to focus on a couple that has been put through the mill. I’m guaranteeing it won’t be a lot. 

I do think it will be more than you expect.

I’m highlighting this for a reason. A lot the fandom are under the impression that they get sidelined: Olicity are given quite a bit more screen-time than we think. But some of us notice the lack of other things happening so, those people, rely on more Olicity in order to forget that. Episodes 6.13 - 6.15 come to mind.

Like it or not, they were focused on in season 6. I know Felicity had little story and Oliver was sidelined several times but, sometimes that happens (it happens quite a bit in Felicity’s case). Doesn’t mean we won’r get what Oliver and Felicity NEED in season 7 and onward.

 8) Felicity

I never needed Smoak Tech. 

I just want her to be INVOLVED.

The fact that she’s a) in protective custody living under a different name and looking after William and b) in contact and in actual scenes with Watson, getting more and more INVOLVED (I like this word) with the law whilst committing crime like the ultimate paragon for getting shit done and for being the backbone of (Oliver) heroism in the city and a paradox (a very good person doing the right things by being a cyber badass and vigilante hacker) makes me feel like I’m going to enjoy season 7 already. 

Then we’ll get a prison breakout. Olicity reuniting. Olicity re-acquainting Themistocles with each other through touch, words, sex etc. Re-finding what it means to be a vigilante in eyes of the public will be just as much her mission as Oliver’s.

9) Paying homage

Let’s have tribute to everything Oliver, Felicity and Diggle have done for the past 6 seasons. We’ve had focus on Tommy, on Robert, Moira and LL. They died: none of them needed to.

Robert died to save his son.

Tommy died to save the woman he loved.

Moira died to save her children.

Laurel died because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and it was reaffirmed in season 6, that it was partly due to her lack of skill and experience, her incredible stubbornness to listen to anyone else’s logic, and her need to reach that high.

They all died, except LL, for love. And all of them had tribute paid to them, some more than others. 

But now that’s over so can due attention be given to what these three have sacrificed over the years? Can we have people see how much Oliver has given to the city, what Felicity has both lost and gone through, the time and effort and heart John has spent on their mission of three?

You don’t have to die to have people recognise the amazing good you’ve done. This isn’t the time of the Renaissance artist: let’s have a little respect paid to the OTA as separate people and as a team of three amazing heroes and as people who have loved each other in many different ways: team mates, partners, friends, family... lovers. Married soul mates. Brothers/comrades in arms.

Let’s have that moment that makes us all glad we’ve been watching for years, where the city, Rene/Dinah/Curtis and the law recognise them.

I’ll probably add to this list.

[chimswae]

Chapter 4

Untold: Tale of a Luminary

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance

Word Count: 3,733

Author Note: I crosspost this story from my Asianfanfic account. Mind you, clicheness OVERLOADS

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Chapter 4: So blunt you can smoke my truth

It was barely 24 hours since she last saw Jimin, and Yeoul could not lie to herself how much she missed his warm presence already. To be able to meet Jimin yesterday was already felt too good to be true. On positive side, she could tell how happy Minyeol was and now he had something to boast with his friends. Poor boy, Yeoul had no one to blame but herself for all the misfortune that her kid had to experience at this age. She took a last glance of her look from the mirror and exited her room with a smile.

“Morning Yeoul” she was welcome with Taehwan handsome face who was busy shredding the chicken meat with his bare hand for Minyeol. If anyone witnessed this scene right now, people would say they were a happy family.

“Why I am not surprised you are here” Yeoul shook her head took and went to Minyeol “Good morning mommy’s handsome son, how are you feeling?” she planted a soft kiss at the side of his head.

Minyeol looked up with a cute grin “morning morning my beautiful mommy. Minyeol is in a good mood today and is very happy” he giggled. Taehwan gave them a look while raising his eyebrows, he felt left out.

“Now, what are you both not telling me? This is unfair.” he turned to squish Minyeol cheeks together “Tell uncle why are you so giddy today?”the younger boy squirmed with a slight pout while shaking his head frantically.

“Mommy and I went to meet daddy yesterday” he exclaimed. Upon hearing that Taehwan’s face felt with as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt something hard tugging his heart drowning him in.

Yeoul noticed the change in his expression and immediately blurted out “We went to Bangtan fansign yesterday” she took a seat across them avoiding his hard gaze. She knew he would be upset if Taehwan found out she went to Seoul by her own without him. His natural protective instinct sometimes was too much but she understood it was for her own good.

“And..?Did you see him?” Taehwan cleared his throat to ease the awkwardness. He was jealous, hell yeah. Why wouldn’t he? The girl that he loved went to see the daddy of her son, of course all the negative thoughts rushed in one go.

“Yes..” she hummed softly. At this rate she had no idea why she must be afraid of telling Taehwan the truth. She owed him nothing and it was pretty clear there was still boundary between them. He was just a friend for now.

His breath hitched as he never took his eyes off her, examining her expression “How does it feel?” he inquired.

“Weird. But I miss him” she had to be honest in any kind of conversation that she had now with Taehwan. It was the truth, her heart yearned for Jimin god knows for years. Indeed, after years being away from each other, her heart bloomed again. Her love for Jimin never faded.

Minyeol who was so indulged in his breakfast paid no attention on any of the adults at the table. He might be a smart kid and he literally understood the details of their conversation yet Minyeol learned manners at school, to never butt in when adults were having a tense  conversation.

Taehwan let out a soft sigh “That was too risky for you to go there with Minyeol. What if the fans or press found out he is his son. You will be doomed” he stroked Minyeol’s hair softly. He grew attached to the younger boy ever since he befriended Yeoul. Ever since then, his only concerned was to protect both Yeoul and Minyeol. After he discovered Jimin was the father, he grew anxious for no reason mainly due to the fact he was an idol. Things had never been good every time idols caught up in a romance. It ended badly because of the pressure from society especially their fans.

“I know and I cant lie to my own kid all the time Taehwan. Sooner or later I have to bring him to meet his own father right? He is just a kid. I made him suffer enough without the love that he deserved from his own dad” she eyed Taehwan as Yeoul tried not to break down in front of him. That was the last thing she hoped.

“So does he know about Minyeol?” he whispered under his breath careful not to sound too clear as they did not want the younger boy knew the truth just yet. He would be upset.

Yeoul bit her lower lips while shook her head slowly “I cant imagine if he knows the truth, that is crazy” he leaned over and caressed her hands. She liked how much this guy cared for her and Minyeol therefore she was trying hard to return the feelings but it was not easy to erase Jimin.

“I will be here for you, so don’t worry Yeoul-ah” his smile was sweet and it warmth her heart. One day, she wished miracle happened and by that time she would return all the kindness that he gave her.

“Mommy there is a note come out from this album” Minyeol skipped happily to her side with a small pink note in his hand. Both of them were too engrossed in their conversation so they had no idea when the younger boy left the table. And, he was definitively hugging Bangtan’s album closed to his chest. That kid never let go the albums ever since yesterday, it touche her heart. Yeoul took the note from Minyeol with a genuine smile.

‘Jimin?’ she flinched in her seat

Taehwan blinked with baffled look but his attention was back on Minyeol “Tae ahjussi, send me to school now. I don’t want to be late” he was playing with Taehwan’s fingers while puckering his lips cutely.

“Alright class president, go get your bag. I will walk you to school” he ruffled his hair with a chuckle. As much as he hated to admit this but Minyeol really resembled Jimin. From his facial feature to his personality, it was like a reflection of Park Jimin. Taehwan was not a fan of idol groups but he usually ended up watching Bangtan’s reality show with Minyeol. He could not stop examining every little detail that Jimin portrayed on screen with little Minyeol.

Like father like son.

“Im ready” Minyeol was already at the door step.

“Alright calm down class president, give your mommy a kiss before head out” Taehwan ordered. He was natural with kid and it made him almost like a real father to Minyeol. The younger boy ran to Yeoul’s arm with a giddy smile. He really was way too hyper since yesterday, guess meeting Jimin was not bad at all.

“Good bye mom, see you later” Yeoul squished him close and gave a light peck on his lips.

“Be a good boy, don’t annoy Taehwan ahjussi”she warned as the younger boy nodded with a salute. He then returned to the front door putting his shoes on.

“Aw, don’t I deserve a kiss too” he joked while patting his lips with fingers. Taehwan puckered his lips leaning close to Yeoul causing the girl to blush in her spot.

Yeoul palmed his face and shoved him back lightly “In your dream” she rolled her eyes getting used to his attempt to swoon her.

“IM HURT NA YEOUL! So harsh..” he groaned in frustration but Taehwan immediately pulled her into a tight embrace which startled Yeoul. She hated how he always made her feel so weak whenever with him.

“Dinner tonight?I don’t take no as an answer. I will pick you up from work” he whispered. She frowned knowing how persistent Taehwan could be sometimes.

“Great, where is my right to answer you. Fine do as you wish Lee Taehwan like I can stop you” he let out a soft chuckle and released her from his embrace.

“See you tonight” Taehwan left a soft kiss on her cheeks before catching up on Minyeol. She was crimson red every time he did these little things for her, though it was not the first time he practically made a physical contact with her. Yeoul wanted to crawl under her bed so badly, she really sucked in sorting her own feelings.

Lee Taehwan.. and Park Jimin.

She almost forgotten about the notes in her hand. Yeoul recognized the handwriting, it was Jimin’s. Her lips curled up into a smile upon reading his little note, how childish. He left his phone number but she was contemplating whether to give him a call, what if that was a bad idea?

If she decided to keep his contact, that simply means Jimin would be officially back in her life. Not in a romantic way but still the thought of having Jimin back in her life was beyond crazy.

Yeoul clutched onto her phone close with a sigh ‘To call or not to call’  her throat was itching to let out a scream. How she wished it was not hard to come out with a decision. That was confusing.

----------

“What is with you with your phone” Jungkook took off her earphone as his eyes were distracted with Jimin’s hand that was fidgeting non stop, flipping the phone around.

“Nothing” Jimin coyly looked out the window. They were on their way to airport, in few hours they would be away from their hometown for Bangtan’s world tour. He liked the idea of traveling away from home, meeting Armys from other part of the world. However, ever since his encountered with Yeoul his heart felt heavy to leave the country. Firstly, he expected a phone call from that girl since he left a note in the album. Shouldn’t she be contacted him by now? He groaned in his head.

Secondly, the conversation that he had with Yoongi that night was still lingering in his damn mind. He was dying to find out who was the father of the son that she carried, was it really not his? It couldn’t be his right, but what if Minyeol was his son. Jimin didn’t realize he spent most of his time thinking about Minyeol and Yeoul.

Why was he feeling this way?

“Hyung.. im talking to you. There you go daydreaming again. What is on your mind seriously? You have been like this since our last fansign” Jungkook gave him a concern look. Jungkook might be a maknae but he had a lot of good things stored in his brilliant brain. He always knew how to give a good advice apart from Hoseok and Taehyung of course, Jimin loved venting his worries or problems with Jungkook.

“I am just nervous since we are traveling for a long time, i cant wait to meet our fans from different parts of the world” he lied. Jimin ruffled his hair with a smile “Stop worrying. I am fine, we are here. Get ready to be mobbed by press and fans” he chuckled.

Jungkook just shrugged the thought off from his mind since he planned to inquire the older guy again later.Jimin took a last glance of his phone ‘Yeoul..just please… this one..’ he prayed dearly with all his heart as he put on his shades ready to strike a good pose.

Without doubt, after an official fanmeeting airport was a crucial place whereby all the cameras were on them. Therefore, they would try to dress as decent or natural as they could. It was the image that they projected since they first debuted, and they tried to conserve it that way.

As expected there were fans and press everywhere waiting for their arrival and he was thankful to meet the Armys before leaving the country. They felt special and grateful somehow to see the amount of love shown by them. Jimin exited the SUV following Taehyung who was already ahead him entering the departure area.

He heard voices calling for their names but they tried to keep it cool as they were in rush to pass the security to catch their flight. Nowadays, Jimin chose to keep his posture as a cool guy in comparison to his cute and bubbly side back then. He thought it was about time to change. That was the utmost reasons why most of his fantaken photos came out fantastic and he had fun went through his photos tagged by Armys on thier official Twitter.

As his manager stood by his side making sure no one made a blunt move throwing themselves on him, he entered the departure and waited for others to join him there.

“Jiminie your phone is blinking. Don’t you think you need to answer that?” Taehyung looked at him while fixing his beanie.

Jimin widened his eyes and immediately answered the call “Yeoul?” he rambled without even checking his phone screen.

“ Who is Yeoul?” he heard a familiar voice at the end of the line. Jimin knew he was doomed, how could he be in rush not noticing it was actually her mother.

“Mom, im sorry.. is that you? I was in rush” he sheepishly rubbed his back neck with a small smile.

“Mm son are you expecting someone else? Is it a girl? I don’t know you are seeing someone?” her mother bombarded him with questions. That was the last thing he wanted to face right now, mother’s intuition.

“It is..just an old friend..How are you mom? Did you miss me? We just talked yesterday?” he chuckled softly hoping that he could make her forget about Yeoul for a second.

She laughed softly “Changing the topic I see. It is fine, I will ask you again later. Of course I always miss my son. I just want to make sure you get on the plane safely and say goodbye” he softened. Jimin couldn’t remember when was the last time he went back home, he missed his bed so badly.

“Thank you mom, I am ready to check in soon. I will be seeing you once I get back okay? Please take care of yourself and make sure both of you have a proper meal” his warmness really awed Taehyung. Jimin’s relationship with his parents were adorable and being an obedient son he was, Jimin really took a good care of them. He would give them a call without failed every day.

Taehyung gave him a teasing smile mouthing ‘mama boy’ earning a playful glare from Jimin. After bidding his farewell with his mother, he ended the call. Even though it was not Yeoul to hear his mother voice the last thing before he left the country was enough.

“Come one lets go since everyone is here” their manager signaled everyone to stalk walking for their check in and ready to board the plane in two hours.

 -----------

“Hello is this daddy?” Jimin frowned upon hearing the soft voice at the end of the line. He was so sure he heard it before just where?

“Mmm.. daddy? I am sorry kid, but who are you?” he was careful not to reveal his information. Anything could happen if he ever slipped out his name, even though it was a kid. It could be a trap used by dispatch or sasaeng fans. Jimin remembered how he had to change his contact for the nth time and it amused him how people could find it still.

“But…this is Minyeollie” he pouted with a small mumble “I am sorry I thought you are my daddy” he sounded disappointed.

Jimin eyes shot open as he heard the name “Come again? Are you Minyeol?” he couldn’t believe what he just heard. Did he just day dream or was it really Minyeol? Instead of Yeoul, and it was Minyeol who gave him a call.

On top of that, he was calling him what.. daddy? His stomach churned in fear.

“Yes I am minyeol, I apologize I thought you are my daddy. I copied the number from the pink note. Good-” he was about to hang up but Jimin blurted out a loud stop causing all the eyes in the area felt on him.

Their manager flinched with a concern look “Are you okay Jimin?” Jimin cracked a nervous laugh.

“I am okay hyung, sorry it is my best friend..I will be back in a minute” he arose from his seat The members exchanged a weird look while Jungkook decided to tail Jimin from behind. Something was definitely off and he demanded an answer from him.

“Kkuk ah make sure both of you come back to the gate in 10 minutes. We will board in 30 minutes” Namjoon reminded the younger boy who just casually nodded in response.

Jimin entered the bathroom as his heart pounded furiously “Are you still there Minyeol ah?” it was huge relief to him as he heard Minyeol’s chirpy voice at the end of the line.

“This is Jimin hyung..” he mumbled.

“It is really daddy! I am not wrong” Jimin felt a heavy lump on his throat, his mind went fuzzy. Why was that kid calling him daddy? It was a heavy silence before he decided to reply Minyeol.

“Minyeollie.. why are you calling me daddy?” he was afraid to hear Minyeol’s reply but he couldn’t help but to clear the curiosity in him.

Innocent Minyeol casually answered “Mom said you are my daddy. Aren’t you?” he blinked in confusion. A child never lied. Pretty much all the honest truth telling in the world was done by children. Jimin trusted Minyeol’s words.

His world went blank. Jimin’s body was paralyzed and he had no idea how to react or what to do first.

Should he scream or run away?

Or should he bail on this tour but that was so not him.

He was trained to be professional in any situation.

Jimin heard Yeoul’s sweet voice at the end of the line asking Minyeol who was he talking to, he froze in his spot. It could be the truth. Minyeol could be his son but how that happened. Why she never told him anything?

“oh my what? You are talking to who?” Yeoul started to panic as she took her phone from Minyeol.

“Daddy.. im talking to daddy..” Minyeol pouted and hugged Yeoul’s legs “Mommy I just missed daddy im sorry don’t be mad” Yeoul didn’t know how to react, and by now she expected Jimin bombarded her with questions.

“Go eat your lunch, granny is outside waiting for you” she was mad at Minyeol yet she had no reason to yell or even punish him. Minyeol was a clueless kid, what did she expect. It was her fault to lay the notes openly on her desk. She didn’t expect Minyeol would actually make a bold move to call the number.

As soon as Minyeol left the room, Yeoul took a deep breath and brought the phone close to her ears “Yeoul…” his voice was a mixture of pain, anger and confusion. Yeoul owed him a long explanation, and she didn’t expect it would be today.

“Jimin…” her lips were pressed into a thin line. She didn’t know how to begin the conversation, it was awkward to break an old new to someone that she expected to ignore for the rest of her life.

“What was that?” he exasperated a heavy sigh as he raked fingers in his hair. He just wanted to scream right away and this really frustrated him to hear such absurd at this time.

“It is nothing.. forget about that. Minyeol is being playful” she tried to cover up the truth but Yeoul was unsure whether he bought it.

“You are lying” his voice was stern. Jimin clenched his fist ready to pound any part of cold wall around him. He felt so helpless being left in shadow. Questions after questions gnashed his already messy mind.

“I am not”

“Explain”

“There is nothing to explain”

“NA YEOUL!”

“I have to go Jimin”

“Don’t you dare, or I swear to god I will come to get you now Yeoul”

“Dont be silly Jimin. It is just a kid word”

“His words against yours. I trust him”

“Stop it Jimin” she grew frustrated. As much as she wanted to explain and threw herself on him, Yeould knew it was a bad idea. He should not know about this.

“Hyung are you alright?” Jungkook who had been watching Jimin diligently broke the silence. Jimin seemed intense, and it scared Jungkook to death. The last time he saw Jimin this angry was when the older guy was frustrated of himself for not be able to sing properly during their pre-debut says.

Jimin might be soft on the outside but when he got angry, he was the scariest.

He snapped his eyes meeting Jungkook curious one, now what? How he wished he was not stuck here. Out of all days why this thing must happened just right before his plane about to take off. This was absurd.

Jungkook was about to ask question when he saw their manager stood behind him with a wary look “Are you boys ready? We are ready to board. Come” he patted Jungkook’s back and signaled Jimin to move.

With a heavy heart Jungkook walked after their manager ‘Who is Yeoul? Minyeol? That sounded familiar..’ he fixed his hoodie and shook his head frantically.

Jimin realized Yeoul was still at the end of the line. He inhaled a sharp breath “We are not done Na Yeoul” he then hung up slipping his phone in pocket before heading out. The members noticed his tense expression as it was rare to see him this serious.

Hoseok swung his arm around Jimin’s neck “You okay?” he blinked.

“I am alright hyung. Let’s go we are late” he tried not to sound soulless as he escaped from Hoseok’s grasp getting in line behind Jin. Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged look with a shrug.

Part of him refused to board the plane, he just wanted to take the fastest route to Busan and find Yeoul. How he wished this was not a world tour? Jimin would definitely took an emergency plane in a heartbeat.

That’s mean he had to endure this until they wrapped up their world tour in America before he got time to stretch to find Yeoul.

Endure it, Park Jimin.

Previous | Next

This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2018. All Rights Reserved.

[lovewhatyoudodolan]

Treat You Better || Grayson

Prompt: Slightly based off the Shawn Mendes song. Grayson spent the last couple of months noticing slight differences in the way you act around him after getting a new boyfriend.

Word Count: 1766

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you beautiful men and women! Have a good day, smile, and make sure you go buy all the discounted chocolate you can tomorrow!

Warnings: Could potentially be triggering due to an abusive relationship

MASTERLIST

REQUEST

I chuckled and cuddled up closer to my best friend as we watched some random movie that was on television, “Did he seriously think the cops wouldn’t catch him? He literally had his face dead in the view of the camera!”

“Gray it’s just a movie,” I shake my head and reach down to his lap to grab another handful of popcorn. My hand pulls back instantly when a shock of electricity shot up my arm due to Grayson’s brushing against mine. This wasn’t an uncommon feeling, especially recently with how much we were hanging out.

He never seems to react in the same way though, “Yes but there are actually people out there that do shit like this.” He groans and throws his head back in exasperation.

I chuckle again, but that quickly subsided when I felt my phone vibrating against my leg. “Hey I’ll be back,” I whispered as I pulled it out to check the id. Of course it would be him. 

Once I was behind the safety of Grayson’s bedroom door, I clicked accept and put the phone to my ear. “That was the seventh ring y/n!” I flinch at the loudness of my boyfriends voice on the other line. “You know what would’ve happened if you didn’t answer.” I bit my lip and glance down at the wooden floor, “Where are you?”

“Class went over.” My voice was low, which he preferred. It made him feel in control, and I had no choice but to do it or get punished. 

I know what you’re thinking, why put up with this. It’s a lot more complicated than it seems though. He’s a family friend, so I’d never truly get away from his abuse. He knows where everyone that I care about is, and I wouldn’t put it past him to try to harm them in my place...

“Why must you be such a lying whore?” He sighs and I just know that he’s shaking his head. 

I knock on the door brought my attention away from the phone call and fear to coarse through my body. “Y/n/n Ethan’s on his way back if you want to get dinner with us.”

I stayed silent, waiting for all hell to break loose but instead the line went dead. Shit that’s even worse... A text popped up on my screen shortly after. ‘You’re in for it this time. I knew you were a slut, but how dare you cheat on me with that ugly model wannabe. Be downstairs waiting.’

“Actually Gray,” I sigh and do anything I can to hold back my tears, “I have to head home. Forgot I have a paper due tomorrow!” I turn and quickly grab my jacket off his bed before opening the door and bolting past my best friend. 

After all this time I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell Grayson about the abuse. It would break his heart and then he would get all protective over me and try to kill him.

---

The car ride back to our apartment was silent as I played with a strand of denim hanging off my jean skirt. This was how I knew I was in for hell when we got back. If he talked, at least then I knew he wasn’t completely pissed off with me.

When the car was in park, his forehead slammed against the steering wheel making my stomach drop. “Why do you have to do this? You’ve got a perfectly good relationship here, but you’re choosing to fuck around with the Dolan fucker?

“He’s just a friend,” I mutter and lean back in the seat stubbornly before remembering who I was actually talking to.

His head shot in my direction, “Did you just talk back to me y/n?”

My gut tightened instinctively as I turned to face his snarling face, “You don’t fucking own me. I can have friends. I’m so sick of all of this; I’m sick of you!”

“Get out of the car,” His voice was cold and dark. If I wasn’t having a rush of adrenaline due to standing up to him, I would have instantly cowered in fear. “Get out of the fucking car and get in the apartment right this minute.”

“No,” I spat and crossed my arms over my chest, “I’m done with you.”

My eyes widened because in a blink of an eye he was out of the drivers seat and dragging me out of the passengers seat by my hair. Fuck fuck fuck...

I slid my phone out of my pocket when he wasn’t looking, quickly calling Grayson before sliding it back into my pocket. “You may be a college girl, but sometimes you’re really dumb you know?”

His hand wrapped around my neck and picked me up so my back was pressed against the door to our apartment, “I could just strangle your ass right now. It would all be over.”

“Y-You’d go to jail,” I struggle to get out due to lack if air getting to my lungs.

He dropped me and my body instantly collapsed to the ground, “Oh babe you know my dads a lawyer. They wouldn’t get very far in that trial.” I tried to push myself up on my hands and knees, but I was instantly kicked back down. “He won’t want you after what I do to you. No one will.”

I scanned the room in hopes of finding something to protect myself with, but nothing was in reach. “You’re insane,” I choke out only to earn a kick to the side.

“You’re a whore! You’ve bee denying me my pleasure because you’ve been finding it somewhere else.” He grabs my wrists with one hand and placed them above my head, “Not anymore though.”

My mind was racing as he reached down and started moving the bottom of my skirt up my legs, “Stop! Someone help!”

“No one’s going to hear you,” He chuckled while popping the button of his jeans. Tears were threatening to spill down my face, and what happened next was so fast that I couldn’t keep up. 

“Get the fuck away from her!” My boyfriends intense grip subsided before my eyes tiredly slid shut, “Y/n! Fuck Ethan call 911!” Strong arms wrapped around my body, but I was too tired to open my eyes again. I knew it was Grayson because of his voice, so I wasn’t worried anymore. “Hey you’re safe it’s going to be okay.” His breath was ragged as he slowly lifted me off the cold floor, tucking my face into his neck to carry me out. 

“Is she okay?” Ethan’s familiar voice caught my attention as Grayson slowly walked out of the terrible room where I was almost raped. 

“I knew there was something wrong when she ran out of our apartment earlier,” Grayson sighed and pressed a light kiss to my forehead, “I should’ve gone after her...”

“Hey we made it and that’s all that matters,” Ethan sighed.

Grayson’s next words were the last ones I heard before I finally passed out, “Yeah but now she has to live with the trauma of this...”

--- 

When I woke up I was wrapped in a navy blue comforter and Grayson was asleep on his desk chair facing me. Did he watch me while I slept? I groan when I shifted due to a sharp pain running up my side, but went silent when Grayson stirred in the chair. 

“Mmm,” When his eyes opened a light that I hadn’t seen in awhile was there as he stared back at me, “You’re awake...”

“I am,” I pull the comforter closer to my body and let out a sigh, “Thanks for coming.”

His jaw clenched slightly, “I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened had I not answered that phone call.” He slowly tracked across the room and knelled in front of me so we were face to face, “Do you want me to leave you alone to sleep?”

“Please don’t,” I choked out trying to keep from crying in front of my best friend, “ I don’t want to be alone Gray.”

A frown formed on his lips before instinctively crawling over my body to wrap me into his arms, “I’m never going to leave you y/n. God why didn’t you tell me sooner? I realized that there was something up a month ago when you came over with bruises on your arms, but I didn’t want to pressure you into telling me.”

“I didn’t want you to attack him,” I whisper and turn over to face the brunette, “I knew you’d go after him if I told you and he’s a family friend. He threatened to harm my family if I ever left him or told anyone..”

“Well he’s going to be in jail,” Grayson responded and brushed strands of hair out of my tear stained face, “There’s now three of us again him and his lawyer father. He has no chance.”

“I hope you’re right,” I sigh.

Grayson’s hand cupped my cheek lightly causing me to flinch out of habit, “Sorry...”

“No I’m sorry,” I bite my lip and take a deep breath, “I’m not used to people touching me like that.”

“God I can’t believe he did that shit to you,” Grayson seemed conflicted as he stared down at me, “You deserve so much. You’re literally the most amazing girl I’ve ever met y/n.”

I shrug, “I was just unlucky...”

“I would treat you so much better,” His voice was low so I figured I wasn't supposed to hear his words. My eyes widened before I had the chance to hide my shock and Grayson’s face went hot as well. “Shit you weren’t-”

“Grayson Bailey Dolan,” I pause and stare at his face. Confused on what was appropriate after the situation I just went through. I’ve liked Grayson for months, but I never thought he felt the same way, “Do you mean that as friends or more than?”

His face heats up even more and he glances down at my lips before going in for a light kiss. I instantly kissed my best friend back and sighed in content when he pulled away, “More than friends...”

“Good,” I smile and run my fingers through his floppy brown hair, “Can we just watch a movie and stay in bed all day?”

“I wasn’t planning on doing anything else,” He responded immediately pulling me closer to his warm body. If I’m going to make it through what just happened I’m going to need him with me..

[vandergelic-blog]

rfa + minor trio- middle of the night, can't find mc, find her doing whatever. (stargazing on the roof, baking, just random little things that could be cute?) ps thank u for giving vanderwood the love they deserve, i love my baby sm too

Vanderwood deserves all the love.

Zen:

While Zen was at rehearsals, you stayed home. He always didn’t come back until late, leaving you to eat dinner alone.

You sat on the couch eating your food, watching the news. Just to see that he was involved in yet another scandal with one of his coworkers on the new musical he was starring it. They shared romantic roles with each other.

A sigh involuntarily left you. He told you not to pay any attention to it, because literally none of that stuff was true. But…you couldn’t help it sometimes. Jealousy and doubt are natural things to feel when you see your significant other be associated with someone else.

When Zen got home, it was pretty late. You cuddled with him as he ate and listened to him speak about his day, you staying mostly quiet with the thoughts of doubt still in your head. He assumed you were tired then you both went off to bed.

It was a little past midnight when you crept out of your guy’s shared bed, careful not to disturb him, and went up to the roof. The place he took you when you first visited his home and where he confessed his love to you.

You sat cross legged and looked up at the starry night sky.

Zen was beautiful and so talented. He had thousands of people who admired him and could get anyone he wanted. He was one of those bright stars in the sky, and you? Well..you were just one of those people who were only worthy of watching him from down below. How could he have ever chosen someone like you?

Tears began to form in your eyes, until you felt a presence standing behind you, causing you to whip your body around as you were greeted with Zen’s face with a tired expression plastered over it. A balled up fist went to rub at one of his tired eyes.

“Jagiya? Is everything okay? It’s so late…what are you doing up here? Come back to bed.”

You turned yourself back around and stayed quiet, just as you did earlier. Moments later, he settled down next to you and he yawned, leaning his head against your shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Tell me. You’ve been silent all night, I miss your voice.”

You told him softly and subtly how neglected you felt, how worried you were that he would leave you for someone else or that the media would ruin your guy’s relationship. 

He immediately sat up and stared over at you. He used his fingers to gently turn your face towards him.

“Baby, you’re all I want. All I need. You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re way more amazing than you think. You may not see it, but trust me I do and so many more people do. Why would I want anyone else when I already have the most breath taking person right in front of me? You’re my entire world, Jagiya. Now, shall we go back to bed?”

Yoosung: 

Of all the times you played LOL with Yoosung, you didn’t horribly lose only once. But. You still lost.

His other friend’s online would constantly laugh at how bad you were, and honestly Yoosung thought it was pretty humorous too. You’d all laugh, but Yoosung would always have your back and tell them to stop, even though it wasn’t that deep. He’s just very protective over you okay.

You told him that you were going to bed while he was up studying one night and he simply nodded his head, as you went into your bedroom, sneaking your laptop in with you.

Once you got snuggled up in bed, you immediately turned it on and signed into LOL. You were determined to get better so you could play harder missions with your boyfriend!

A few hours passed…along with many epic fails and deaths. You were sure you the only thing you’ve improved on is running away from the boss. At least you could dodge, slightly better. I mean. you noticed you were getting blown up significantly less.

Suddenly, Yoosung walked into the room, stretching his arms out and letting out a big yawn. When he saw you were still awake, expecting you to be asleep, he tilted his head at you in confusion. 

“What are you doing up?”

“Uh…..nothing….”

“But, you’re clearly doing something.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Then why is my laptop in front of you?”

“…i was sleeping and it just showed up, i don’t know how it got here.” 

“…..really?….”

“yes, really.”

Yoosung crawled in bed and you tried to hide the laptop in your chest.

“GIVE ME THE LAPTOP!”

“NO!”

“IT’S MINe GIVE ME IT I BOUGHT IT”

“sEVEN GAVE IT TO Y OU”

This boy was A LOT stronger than he put himself off to be. He ended up snatching it away from you, ignoring your loud whining and protests in the background.

He looked at the screen just to see your death count.

You died a whopping 47 times in the last two hours you’ve been playing. 

“Oh my god..” *cue loud snorting laughter*

“YOOSUNGGGG I WAS JUST TRYING TO GET BETTER FOR YOU!”

You huffed, did the cutest pout he had ever seen in his life, before plopping down in bed and pulling the covers over you.

He eventually quieted down and pushed the laptop to the side, pulling your body over to him.

“You’re so cute, MC. You don’t have to get any better, you’re already the best you can be!”

“Really?..You don’t care if I die a lot?”

“As long as you don’t die in real life, I’m good. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone suck die so many times in LOL before. That’s an accomplishment! Along with being the most adorable person to ever exist. Wanna pull an all nighter?” 

Jaehee:

It was yet another long, and painful night of work for Jaehee. 

When she came home, she didn’t really say anything. She just gave you a kiss on your forehead, then pulled you to bed with her, where you two snuggled up with each other for the night. 

You felt so terrible for her, that she was working so hard like this for the both of you. So you decided you would make her lunch to take with her tomorrow! It would be much better than her getting takeout.

You lied there and pretended to be asleep for awhile, until you were sure that she was fast asleep herself. Jaehee was actually a pretty light sleeper, but she was so tired, you were sure that you didn’t wake her up when you crawled out of bed.

You immediately got to work in the kitchen, quietly and stealthily as you put together a bento box for her. You decided to bake her some cookies as well!

It occurred to you that you weren’t as quiet as you thought, as you heard a voice speak your name from behind you as you mixing some cookie batter together. 

“Why are you cooking?..So late? Should I have brought some food home when I left work?”

“Oh…no! Jaehee, I was just making you food to take with you tomorrow. I want to make sure you’re eating healthy and taking care of yourself since you always take care of me..”

Her tired, baggy eyes went wide and blinked a few times before she gave you the sweetest smile. 

“Thank you…No one has ever thought of me like that before. I appreciate it. But, I would much rather be in bed with you right now.” 

She walked up to you and pressed a kiss to your lips, causing you to smile. 

“How about you finish this up tomorrow? You can bring it to the office and we can both eat together during our break. How does that sound?”

Jumin:

It was a Sunday night. Jumin had a meeting the next morning so you both went to bed early.

The night went along peacefully, he held you close to his chest with an arm draped around your waist as you two slept. You awoke to the sound of meowing in the other room. It was no other than Elizabeth, but you never heard her meow this late before, nor was it this frantic.

You rose up and slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Jumin and tip toed into the living room.

Elizabeth was curled up on the couch, asleep, but she was whimpering and meowing aloud. It appeared she was having a nightmare and your heart sunk.

You settled down on the couch and gently shook her awake. Her blue irises opened up and stared at you, you could see the fear and sadness in them.

Elizabeth had such a good life, you wondered what she could’ve been dreaming about. 

You scooped the cat up into your arms and held her gently to her chest, much like how Jumin did when consoling you, and your head rested lightly on top of hers.

You rocked steadily side to side as you sang her a soft lullaby and stroked the fur on her back, she emitted soft purrs as you continued.

“MC?”

You didn’t notice Jumin’s deep voice in the background, as you were falling asleep as well with Elizabeth in your arms. 

He found the sight all too adorable and endearing, a smile spreading across his lips as he inched towards you.

He carried you bridal style in his arms, while you still held Elizabeth. The both of you had already fall back fast asleep.

“Let’s go back to bed, my princesses.”

Seven:

This boy barely ever slept.

But when he does, he really wants you to be snuggled up besides him.

He almost had what seemed like a death grip on you, as he snored softly and was dead asleep.

You really had to pee.

You shook, you shimmied, you wiggled and eventually you were free from his grip, quickly shoving a pillow into your arms to replace yourself, because you knew he would wake up. And you wanted him getting all the sleep he could get. 

You scurried over to the bathroom and relieved yourself. 

You were about to crawl back into bed, until you saw Robo Cat!

Seven mentioned that he had made a new addition to his abilities and you picked up the tiny robot and examined it.

There was a new button on his stomach, and you could see the dots on his ears, implying that they were actually speakers. How cute!

You pressed the button, and kpop began to play. 

You laughed and put down the Robo Cat, and it even began to dance around a little bit.

You found it so adorable and this song was bangin’! You couldn’t help yourself, so you danced around too and sang along. 

As you were enjoying yourself, you didn’t notice Seven standing in the doorway recording you.

“Those are some nice moves you got there, MC!”

“SEVEN NO PLEASE DELETE IT”

“Why would I delete the cutest video to ever exist? I have to share this with others and bless this cruel world!”

Then with a press of a button it was on his instagram, his snapchat story, his twitter, in the RFA chatroom.

youweregoingtokillhim

Before you could even begin to yell at him, he pressed a hard kiss to your lips and demanded Robo Cat to start playing music again. 

“Let’s boogie until the sun comes up my space queen!”

You guys literally danced until the sun came up, trashed the bunker, then passed out in the bathtub.

vandeRWOOD WAS PI S SED

Jihyun (V): 

V had the tendency to take pictures of you when you least expected it. 

It annoyed you and made you pout because you weren’t ready and thought you looked ugly, while V was literally having heart explosions over them. 

But he couldn’t deny, he got some really good memes of your face and used them in the RFA chat.

“When your cacti won’t grow.” *picture of you snarling at sushi at a terrible restaurant u guys had gone to*

“When you have no idea what’s going on.” *picture of you looking hella confused during a RFA meeting*

“The floor is your endless love and compassion for me.” *picture of you tripping onto the sidewalk*

don’tworryhehelpedyouuprightafter

“omg jihyun stop pleasge” 

“When you literally just can’t stop.” *picture of you crying over how cute a ladybug was*

Seven saves a l l of them and joins in.

He literally had a WHOLE album dedicated to memes of your face on his phone.

Little did he know, you were going to get him back.

Jihyun had gone to bed a bit early that night before you, you guys had a movie marathon but you decided to stay up a bit longer. 

When you were sure he was fast asleep, you got his camera from his desk and crept into your guy’s room.

Finally, you were going to get a picture of your own.

You crawled onto the bed and were ready to take a picture until you realized…

s h i t

V literally looks like an angel when he’s asleep. HOW COULD YOU MAKE A MEME OUT OF THIS?

You decided to take a picture anyway and…

s h i t x2

The flash went off.

You were about to quickly scramble off the bed and hide when a hand gently grabbed your wrist.

“What are you doing?” V’s sleepy, deep, baritone voice asked you.

nut

“I…was trying to get a funny picture of your face. Like you do to me. But failed, because you literally look so gorgeous when you sleep.”

His cheeks flushed a dark red and laughed.

“Well…allow me to help you.” He said, then literally made the silliest face that he could (still looking adorable as fUC  K).

Now, you had a V meme to use for yourself.

You both laughed for ten straight minutes at the picture before he kissed you goodnight and you both fell asleep.

The next day when you woke up in the morning, the first thing you sent in the chatroom was

“When people don’t ship you with someone who blinded you then started a religious cult. Also, when your route comes out soon.” *picture of V’s happy face*

nicebreakingthe4thwallmcthat’sseven’sjob

Minor duo below the cut!

Saeran: 

this doesn’t really follow the prompt b/c my brain is so tired and i literally can’t think of anything for him rip.

It was bedtime and you both lied down facing each other.

Saeran was drifting asleep, while you were still pretty awake.

You stroked his hair, and you both occasionally exchanged a peck on the lips.

You began to squish his cheeks and play with his face a little, cooing below your breath.

He was so adorable, you couldn’t help it!

This earned a grunt from the male and he flipped over, facing away from you causing you whine.

He ignored you.

So you poked his side and nuzzled your face into his back. 

“Saerannnnn, come back.”

“Go to sleep.”

“No, turn back here.”

“Go to sleep.”

“But I miss you. I just want to look at your cute face.”

“Go to sleep.”

You huffed and also faced away from him. 

Saeran couldn’t help but feel a tad bit guilty. He groaned before rolling onto his back and yanking you on top of him. 

“My prince! You’ve come back for me!”

He rolled his eyes, a lightly tinted blush spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“Whatever. Just go to sleep..”

You giggled and he draped his arms around your waist, while your face rested on his chest.

Eventually, sleep took over both of you and you rested peacefully like that as the rest of the night droned on.

Vanderwood:

He was always complaining how he had to do all the cleaning and work around the house.

It annoyed you because no one ever said he had to do it and he never asks for help.

And when you try to help, he says you don’t do it right then sends you off.

THEN COMPLAINS

VANDERWOOD YOU’RE SUCH A CONFUSING BABY WHAT THE HE C K.

While getting ready for bed, you listen to him grumble about how messy the house is and you really can’t help but roll your eyes.

You make sure he doesn’t see you do it tho, or…( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

And you can’t have anything holding you back or tiring you out ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), so you can go forward with your plan!!

So, as soon as you feel that he is asleep, you get out of bed and go into action.

You begin to clean the toilet, the shower, put together the pillows on the couch and fold the laundry. You dust the shelves off and the tv, as well as wiping the coffee table down.

In all honesty, your guy’s place wasn’t even that messy. But of course, Vanderwood was a perfectionist and you wanted him to wake up to dazzling clean home tomorrow.

You were beginning to sweep up in the kitchen until you hear some light footsteps. 

“Why the hell are you cleaning at 2am? Isn’t that my thing?”

“Well…you were so upset about doing all the housework. I felt terrible. So I wanted to surprise you and have a clean home for you to wake up to tomorrow, so you could relax for the rest of the day..”

He wasn’t quite sure of what to say, but he sure felt bad for complaining and making you feel terrible..

He walked up to you, pushing the broom out of your hands and cupping your face.

“Let’s just go to sleep for now. Uh…let’s finish cleaning tomorrow? I see that you already got a lot done…thank you. Let me treat you to breakfast tomorrow, there’s a cute cafe that reminds me of you. I’ve been meaning to take you there. How does that sound, dear?”

I hope this was what you wanted, anon! If there’s any typos let me know cuz I didn’t proofread. I actually never proofread, so I guess it doesn’t matter lmao

Requests are open! I’m closing them soon so get them in!

[emm-doubleyou]

I don’t even know what to say right now. What can I really say at this point? I knew last night’s episode would leave me absolutely sick with grief. I know in the back of my mind that there is more to come. And I don’t even need to rely on faith to know that next week will be incredible. That our characters will overcome and prevail. That they will finally find peace. But sadly, I also know that I will be left a broken shell of a human being. With my life in ruins. 

It’s exceedingly painful for me to consider life without this show. It’s why I had no choice but to force myself to live in the land of denial for so long. Otherwise, I would lose all ability to function. And I needed to function. I needed to get my life as in order as it was going to get before all this hit. I get that not everyone feels this way. Some are relieved to see it go (can’t relate). Some are sad but simultaneously excited to see how it all comes together in the end. And some are passengers in my rocky boat. It’s quite hard to articulate, really. I know there are those understand precisely what I’m talking about without much explanation. But all I ask is that for anyone who thinks I am defective for declaring that this show has brought me a happiness I never thought I would experience, please respect these feelings. Because as foreign as they may seem, they are genuine. I will sound like a broken record in saying that this show is the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me. Bones saved me. I mean that in more ways than one. And I mean that both literally and figuratively. I’ll leave it at that. And not only that, it truly inspired me. It gave me hope. It changed me and my life. It made me want to do better and be better. The impact it has had on my life has been immeasurable. It has never, not once, been just a television show. It’s not just anything. It is a beacon of hope in a world full of despair. It is my guiding light. It is my everything. And it is my home. It will live on. Through its legacy. Through its fans. For eternity. 

Bones is also the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Because life without Bones is not something I know or want to experience. Again, I ask anyone who believes me to be dramatic to please try to at least understand that we cannot help who and what we love. Though given the choice, I don’t think I could have done anything differently. I don’t believe in fate. Ludicrous. And yet, this show feels like my destiny. The love of my life. I cannot tell you where I would be without it. Well physically, at the very least, on the other side of the country suffering. Trying to stay alive. Lost. Attempting and failing to find meaning in some facet of my own existence. I have had innumerable interactions with people who look at me like an extraterrestrial from Mars when they realize just how significant and all-consuming this passion is. I make no apologies for who I am. Been there done that. This is just me.  I would imagine that so many showrunners, writers, and actors dream of creating art that can touch others in such a profound way. You are never going to please everyone with your work. But if you can conceive of a story that inspires an audience in such poignant ways as Bones did for so many, is there anything more rewarding? For so many years I wanted to give up. But I’d think about the lessons I learned from this show. I’d think of the characters and what they would do in my position. And I was able to push myself harder. Keep going. Not only survive, but flourish at times. And even when I felt as though I had hit rock bottom, I’d pick myself up off the ground and push through. Because it’s what they taught me to do. 

But now I feel irreparably broken. Will I be able to pick up the pieces and put myself back together again after next week? I need to once again turn to the show. Because none of them would ever give up. And they have been to hell and back, time and time again. And they have persevered. 

I don’t know what the purpose of this post really is. I just needed to say something. Anything. I spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, sobbing and shaking. I can’t even process. But I will say a few things: Last night’s episode was so beyond my wildest dreams. It takes a lot to shock me. Because I expect Bones to impress me each and every week. I’m used to it. Everyone’s a critic. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion. But I am just always thankful to have these characters on my screen week after week, that I choose to see the positive in every episode. So that is why you will never see me profess anything but love after an episode. Perhaps I wasn’t engaged with every detail. But again, I choose to focus on what made me smile, what made me gasp, what caused me tears, and the words and moments which inspired me. With this episode- every single second was complete and utter genius. I loved every last millisecond of this episode. 

When I first realized how they were going about telling this story, I was awestruck. Bones STILL manages to surprise me. How? It’s season 12. HOW are they doing this??  While I was in hysterics during most of the episode, it was also one of the most wonderful hours of television I’ve ever seen. I’ve spent my life watching television. I have watched nearly every show that people constantly rave about. I work in television, and I see the way my coworkers stare blankly at me when they realize Bones is my favorite show (well, it’s SO much more than a show). But even if I didn’t, even if this was the only series I ever watched, I am entitled to have this opinion. This show is so incredibly underrated. It always has been. It takes a lot of flack. Even from its fans. And it never quite got the recognition it deserved. To me, it is perfect. I’m not objective. I don’t have to be. 

Bones could go on for another decade. I think that’s what kills me most. To have an episode like that as your 245th hour- it’s beyond impressive. I never expected the show to go out quietly. And I know that the writers wouldn’t have done anything they believed to be devoid of the utmost quality. Still- they managed to up the ante once more. It was out-of-the-box, for sure. And this storytelling device worked so seamlessly for this episode. I simply cannot heap enough praise on it. I watched most of the episode through a foggy filter comprised entirely of my own unrelenting tears. But I was on the edge of my bed seat the whole hour. It went from happy, to humorous, to terrifying, to devastating over and over again. My emotions were pulled every which way. And by the end, it felt like my heart was ripped from my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was curl up in the fetal position and sob until I ran out of energy. And then I would begin again. It was a restless night. 

I don’t love feeling this way by any means. But it’s a testament to the brilliance of these characters and this show. Because I truly care about them. I care about what happens to them. They are my family. They are a part of me. And though I know everything will ultimately be okay, seeing them in peril hurts. Every. Single. Time. This show affects me. Why would I want to watch a show in which I am not fully invested like this. I like that Bones has this power over me. That said, it’s not easy. 

We always knew there would be a bomb. We knew that the Jeffersonian would undergo a very painful transformation. But how we got to that point still somehow managed to throw me. Seeing those four original beloved characters trapped in the lab at the end, I felt sick to my stomach. This is where it all began. This place. And seeing the Jeffersonian in ruins (in the promo), it just feels like the physical manifestation of my mind and heart right now. This place which was a home to Temperance Brennan, among others, for so many years. It’s destroyed. We will never see it intact again. Well, never say never. But it will never be quite the same. Someone wanted to destroy Booth and Brennan. And everything and everyone they hold dear. It’s heart-wrenching. But in Bones, the good guys always win. And they will. I have never been more certain of anything in my entire life. 

Brennan will be fine. We already know that. But the promo still made me want to crawl into a hole and die. The way Booth begs her to stay with him. They are the purest and most fulfilling love story I will ever have the pleasure of witnessing. And there is nothing they cannot overcome. Their lives have been hanging in the balance a dozen times. But you can’t break them. Never.

I wouldn’t say I’m in denial any longer. But it still all doesn’t feel real. Maybe my brain is just trying to protect me. They can say “final” as many times as they want, but I simply cannot believe it. What is a world without Bones? I don’t remember. I just remember it was nothing to write home about. Not a world I want to live in. 

This episode gave us so much. And everything was brilliantly packed into just 43 minutes. I don’t know how they did it. But I felt so fulfilled. Every single one of the main characters had so many wonderful moments. Nothing felt rushed at all. The Zack arc was resolved so believably. And it wasn’t even the focal point of the episode! We had some absolutely precious moments with the Booth children. We learned Angela and Hodgins will be having another child. Cam and Arastoo were just beaming with happiness. Cam is even taking a six month honeymoon. Who would have thought? Aubrey and Jessica, well, maybe that is no longer a packaged entity. But he will be fine, no matter what choice he makes about his future. There are so many moments I want to touch on. And I’m sure I will. Eventually. When I can process it all. Angela and Brennan had the loveliest of exchanges in this episode. Multiple ones. In multiple settings. Booth and Brennan, don’t get me started on that hug in Brennan’s office. Essentially the last time we will ever see her office as is. Her sanctuary. I can’t even...Booth and Brennan’s hugs mean more to me than anything. Well, everything about them means the world. They are so in love. It’s electrifying. Those two will always be lightning in a bottle. And don’t get me started on their dancing. I couldn’t love them more. No really, I couldn’t. 

I feel sick right now. I feel empty but full. Empty because I don’t know the meaning of life without this show. And I am completely drained after going through the full gamut of emotions. Full because this show has given me more than I have ever dreamed of. As did this episode. 

Sometimes a show is just a show. For many people, television is just a hobby. But always remember that for some, that show you casually watch may mean more than anything. Some fans love a show. And some credit a show for saving them. I am the latter. So many of us are. And maybe that’s a foreign concept to grasp. But it’s valid. To anyone else suffering the way I am, I understand what you are feeling. I truly do. I don’t know how I will get through this when all is said and done. I can’t imagine a world without my beloved savior. But I can’t think about that just yet. While the end of this episode + the promo destroyed any hope of semi-normalcy for the next few days, I still have the opportunity to say there’s more to come. More Booth. More Brennan. More Angela and Hodgins. More Cam and Aubrey. More Bones. 

I don’t exactly know what I hoped to accomplish here. Basically I just needed to vent. Because I feel so lost right now. So alone. So hopeless. So broken. I am scared for myself. But for now, I need to take Angela’s advice and live in the moment. I need to take Booth’s advice and keep fighting. And I need to live by Brennan’s words: Inertia demands that you keep going. I need to find a way to keep going. I don’t know how yet. But we will see. 

Knowing what I know now, would I do it all again? Would I allow myself to watch the pilot, knowing full well that this show would take over my life? Change it completely? Mold the person I would become? Cause me stress and pain through all the uncertainty, cruel messages, ENDLESS HIATUSES, and ridicule from almost everyone in my life? Yes. I would do it all again. Because to experience those moments of pure joy that Bones has brought me was worth it all. I am a better person because of this show. I don’t know that I’d be here writing this without it. Do with that what you will. It was never JUST a show. It is my world. 

To end this on a more positive note- If i ever picked favorite episodes (and I never do, and couldn’t ever) this episode would be on that list. Simply a masterpiece. Perfection. Everything. 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Vanilla Sky prt 3

Returning to his ship in an angry daze, Kosmo had tried to climb into his lap feeling dejected from Lance's lack of attention. Keith... he just couldn't understand. Sitting on his thin bed, he glared down at Lance's communicator in annoyance as replayed their conversation in his mind. Maybe entering Lance's room had been a touch too far, but the anger he'd shown was way out of proportion. And what did he even mean that Earth wasn't his home anymore. From the moment they first reached the castle, Lance had been dying to return to his family... And what did he mean Shiro had already retired to be with Curtis? None of it made any sense. He'd wanted to see his best friend again, but said best friend seemed to genuinely hate him... And what was with his lack of marks? Was it make up? The more he thought about it, the more his mood worsened, the communicator in his hands threatened to break if he applied any more pressure to thin device. Fuck it. Fuck Lance. It wasn't like he didn't have enough on his mind as it was. He still had no leads over Guile. He'd found his best friend and long time crush living in a fucking brothel, getting up to gods know what and he has the nerve to get mad when Keith makes the effort?! Not caring he was invading Lance's privacy, Keith thumbed over the communicators surface. If Lance wasn't going to tell him what the quiznak was going on, he'd have to investigate himself. He had to know... he had to know if it was personal, or if Lance had snubbed the rest of the team in the same manner as he'd done him. Opening his call logs, he scrolled through the list. Each Earth Sunday, he called Veronica. In fact, Veronica seemed to be the most called person on his phone. Next was his mother, listed under "Mama", presumably a blanket name for his family, phone calls home seemed to happen once every two movements lasting for at least a varga each time, though they were also the most missed calls on the device. If Lance was phoning home, then why was his parents so worried? It didn't make sense. Closing his call log, he opened Lance's messages. Veronica's name popping up first, marked with 5 unread messages. Next was his mother again... then Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro, but the dates on these messages were far older, three or so phoebs ago. Frowning, this wasn't the Lance he knew. Lance always liked to check in. He always liked to know everyone was alright. Opening Shiro's message thread, his heart fell when he read what was there. Four times Lance had tried to reach out to Shiro, each time asking "how he was" or "what he'd been up to", only for Shiro to reply each time that he was "sorry, but couldn't talk at the moment". Growling slightly, he closed the thread to open Pidge's, only to find it reading more or less the same thing. The cherry on the top was Hunk's thread. Lance had been encouraging him and Shay, telling Hunk to "go for it", and that he was "an amazing catch anyone would be lucky to have", only, the messages had tapered off to exactly the same thing as what had happened with Shiro and Pidge. Closing out of the thread, he scrolled down further to find he hadn't messaged Lance, or replied to his messages either in over four phoebs. They'd spoken via calls, but the messages thing... He honestly hadn't realised it'd been so long. Flicking back to the call log, he felt sick when he did the maths, Lance had hardly been involved in any of the teams movemently calls. By trying to give Lance space, he'd inadvertently shut the man out completely. If he was Lance, he'd be pretty pissed too, especially when they'd gone through all of this before on their return journey back to Earth. None of them meant it maliciously. People simply got busy with life, but for Lance, Voltron had always been a cruel test of self worth when the Red Paladin had absolutely nothing to prove to any of them. He was the one Keith trusted to watch his back. To question his judgement and to pull him back into line when he fucked up as leader of the group. He'd thought he was doing better. He knew he was doing better. He'd been able to work through so many things when stranded on the space whale with his mother, but the one person who deserved his attention, who'd always tried to make him feel welcome in his own stupid ways, had slipped right through the cracks. It was a bitter pill to swallow. He had to see Lance again. He had to let him know he was quiznakking idiot and that he was sorry. That... even if Lance didn't have those kinds of feelings for him, he still wanted him in his life. Flopping back on his bed, Kosmo crawled up to drop his head down Keith's chest with a sad whine "Sorry, boy. It's me he's mad at. He's been out here for months, and none of seem to care. He didn't want to come back out here. He was happy back on Earth and I thought I could live with that... but he's not ok... I know I'm supposed to be concentrating on Guile... but how do I leave him like this? How do I leave him when he's hurting? He goes above and beyond for all of us, and what do we do? We don't even bother to reply to his messages. I must have seemed like the biggest arsehole in the universe turning up out of nowhere and asking his help like I haven't been ignoring him" Whining at him, he took it to mean Kosmo agreed "We should go apologise. I need to return his communicator too... He's going to be pissed when he realises I have it... Maybe I should return it before he comes back from work? That way he won't know... Why wouldn't he talk to me?" A drunken unremembered night wasn't enough to ruin the bond they'd formed was it? Or was something else weighing on Lance's mind? When his own communicator started ringing, he jumped violently enough for Kosmo to teleport away in fear. Pulling up his mother's call, he sighed as she saw right through his unhappy expression "What happened?" "Erathus" "Hold on a tick" Catching sight of Axca and Kolivan, the last thing he wanted was an audience to his stupidity. Leaving the control room, his mother was soon back with the same concerned look on her face "Is something wrong?" "I fucked up" "Language" "Fine. I stuffed up so quiznakking royally, I don't know how to fix it" "Explain" "None of have been talking to Lance. I didn't even realise how much time had passed and he wasn't exactly happy to see me" "Did he say so?" "Pretty much. I don't think he meant to force his communicator on me, but he tried talking to all of us, only for us to brush him off. Each time. Finally, he stopped and none of us realised" "Keith, there's still so much to clean up. Ten thousand years of tyrant cannot be fixed in a few short years" "But... this is Lance. He literally got himself blown up like the first day he met Coran protecting him. He'd do the same for any of us, and we... Especially with Allura. Now I've shown up asking for a favour. No wonder he's so mad" "Did you try explaining how busy you've been?" "I didn't get the chance, he was on his way to work and I don't think he appreciated me letting myself into his room" "Keith" "It wasn't my fault. Kosmo had to sniff him out because he wasn't listed on the guest registry of the..." He couldn't say brothel, that'd only make things worse "... hotel he's been staying at. The door opened before I could knock, and when I called I got no answer" Sighing heavily, his mother shook her head "Alright. What about Guile?" "Nothing. Nothing on Thatus. Nothing from the rebel camps, or the planets I stopped by" "I'll speak to Kolivan over how he wants to proceed. I can already tell what you want to do next" "Even if it's just for a quintant, I want to talk to him. Make sure he's doing better than it seems" "I know you care deeply for him, but you need to be prepared to accept that he might not feel the same way about you, as you do about him" Keith's face reddened "Mum!" "I'm just saying..." "I know exactly what you're saying. I've already accepted it, I just want to know he's ok and apologise for ignoring him without intending to" "Alright. Call me. You might be worried about him, but I'm worried about you" "I know, mum. I'll check in tomorrow" "Be safe" "Yeah, yeah. I love you too" Ending the call, Keith closed his eyes. This wasn't how his vacation was supposed to be going at all. * Leaving Kosmo in his ship Keith found something more appropriate to wear back to the club in the form of a plain black shirt, black skinny jeans, and his black boots. Highly unoriginal, yet enough that looked more touristy than he had previously. With Lance's communicator in his pocket, Keith was armed with an apology and the hope Lance would let him get everything off his chest without yelling again. He'd had feelings for Lance so long that it'd been honestly painful to give his best friend the support and push he'd needed to pursue Allura, despite how she'd treated his best friend. Lance had worshipped the ground the princess had walked on. He'd been brushed aside over and over again, forced to watch her fall in love with Lotor, the forced to watch as Lotor tore her heart out. He wasn't naive enough to believe that Allura was incapable of getting over her feelings for him, it was just... on Earth all she'd been preoccupied with was spending every waking moment waiting for the robeast pilot to awaken, then suddenly she was as keen on Lance as he'd been on her since day one. Lance had worried himself sick over their date, coming to him of all people for reassurance. Watching the sunset, he'd desperately wanted to tell Lance not to go through with it all, lying to himself that as long as Lance was happy he could be too. Making his way back to the club, the never ending tide of people streaming through the streets hadn't seemed to abated in the slightest, even 12 vargas later. The city illuminated in every colour rainbow as adverts played on massive screens for things he'd never even heard of. Small walkways he'd never noticed that morning now lit up, advertising casinos or clubs, and all manner of entertainment. A person really could find something here to satisfy that itch of perversion each tourist seemed to carry silently on their shoulders. He hated it all. Clubbing wasn't his scene, or maybe clubbing alone wasn't his scene. He hadn't had the most practical of childhoods, or atypical teenager life. The years most spent experimenting were lost to him on the space whale, yet he couldn't bring himself to regret a single moment of the time spent getting to know his mother. The time has softened his sharp edges, giving him a whole new perspective on life. Letting himself into the club, he skipped the front desk as he headed for the main dance floor, aliens of every race all dancing and mingling as unidentifiable music played over the speaker system. Whatever it was, the atmosphere was soaked with sex in the air. Ordering himself a drink really didn't seem worth it, yet without Kosmo to teleport him up to the second level, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. The building clearly had more than two levels, the roof not visible from street height at all, yet if he did attempt to enter at higher level it might eventuate in him causing a scene that could cost Lance his precious job. Positioning himself at the end of the counter, he ignored the way his drink glowed a soft green as he opened his communicator to pull up the buildings security data. "Is this seat taken?" In his own world, Keith didn't realise he was being talked to. He'd found the schematics to the buildings air duct system, the main turbines on the 95th floor... There were smaller outlet shafts at ground level around the back of the building, but they tapered down to a size that he'd have to be a mouse to get through, completely ruining all chances of using the ducts to reach Lance's room. For someone who loved space and the starts, he was surprised Lance didn't want to be closer to them. Feeling a tug on his arm, he was pulled back reality. A young female alien with four arms and far too much make up was staring down at him "Sorry?" "I asked if this seat was taken?" "No?" Turning back to his communicator, his arm was tugged on again "You're not very good at flirting, are you?" He was being flirted with? "Sorry, I'm..." "What? You think you're going to sit there and act like you're too good for me?!" "No, it's..." "It's what? Is there something wrong with me?" Other than the fact she wasn't Lance? Or the fact she looked as if she'd bathed in her makeup before leaving her room? "No. I..." Yelling something at him in something that must have been her native tongue, Keith sat there in shock as stormed off. He hadn't even done anything, and it wasn't like he'd asked for any of that to happen. Fuck it. He was on a mission to find a way up to Lance's room while bypassing the bouncers that guarded the second floor. It was time for diversionary tactics. If he couldn't awkwardly people his way through this, then he'd have to Blade of Marmora his way through instead. Pulling up the building schematics again, he pulled up the power grid, thanking Pidge yet again that her program made everything far too easy. With a few taps, there was a smirk on his lips as the lighting behind the bar went out, the bar tenders visibly confused as customers grew angry over their inability to drink themselves even stupider. The first punch thrown under up with the offender hurled over the bar, from the way the staff simply sidestepped the commotion Keith was left wondering how many times brawls had resulted in the same thing happening. As the two bouncers moved to break up the fight, he restored power to the bar before draining his drink and slipping through the warm bodies on the dance floor. He hadn't intended on a brawl, but damn it'd been effective. The second floor was illuminated differently as Keith walked the passage. Some doors lit with an aqua light above sensor strips to the right of them, some lit with red. Given he didn't know what the aqua or red lights were about he wasn't even going to speculate what the yellow or light green ones meant, despite the fact the light above the sensor strip to Lance's room was glowing yellow. Lifting his hand, he waited like he had that morning, hoping that when the door opened Lance wouldn't be there and he'd be able to return the communicator without him noticing. After that, he'd slip back down into the club and message Lance over catching up. It wasn't like he didn't have time to waste now that his mother had Kolivan preoccupied. Taking a few moments, the door slid open silently to reveal the brightly lit interior of Lance's room. The lights from the street spilling in to cast patterns across the ceiling which were pretty in their own way, yet left him with a kind of hollow feeling in his chest. All this life was going on around Lance, so why was his room so devoid of it all? Shaking his head, he scolded himself. He'd already snooped enough by going through Lance's phone. Anything else he wanted to know had to come from Lance himself. It was only right, and he wasn't hearing the full story with the sideways stalking of him. Striding across the room he fished out lance's communicator from his pocket, so he could carefully place it back down from where Lance had retrieved it earlier. Turning back towards the door he knew he had to leave, but... if he did, would Lance answer him when he messaged? In all likelihood, he probably wouldn't. They'd moved past that in their relationship. But maybe he would? It'd been vargas since he'd turned up on Lance's doorstep, enough time for Lance to process that he was there and wanted to talk... Quiznak. Why was it that Lance turned him into such a bundle of uncertainty? Crossing back towards the door, there was a solid thud against it from the otherside, followed by a soft laugh that could have only been Lance's. Keith's heart leapt at the sound, only for it to fall when a gruff voice joined it. Lance was laughing with someone else... and he was about to be sprung in Lance's room all over again. Slightly panicked, he did the only thing he could and threw himself at the bathroom door, it sliding back with a soft whoosh as he drew his blade and darted inside, hitting the door panel to close it as the main door to the apartment opened, wedging his blade between the door and the frame, his stalkerish ways hitting a whole new level as he watched through the gap. Laughing and giggling, Lance had his legs wrapped around a Galra, a second one crowding from behind, the mood between the three of them flirtatious enough for Keith to step back. He didn't want to see this, but he couldn't look away. "Slow down... mmm, just like that" Watching both Galra mouth at lance's neck, Lance moaned for more, the one behind him ripping off the man's shirt causing Lance to giggle even more "Did no ever teach you patience?" "No" Laughing like it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard, Lance was cut short as he carried over to his bed and dropped down. Crawling up the covers he soon disappeared from view, yet his voice carried well "Come here, papi. I haven't had a Galra in a while..." Lance was... he was... no... "We're going to fuck you until you can't walk" "Just the way I like it" He could hear the wink in Lance's voice, followed by a rustling of cloth. Moving out of the way to undo their pants, Lance was down to his boxer briefs, long caramel legs spread as he reached out for both Galra... "That's right... come here... I'm going to make you both feel so good..." Covering his mouth to stifle his breathing, Keith was murderous. Lance shouldn't be... not with... it was stupidly romantic, just like Lance was, but Lance should only be having sex with the person he loved. Someone to treasure him. Someone who wouldn't pay him and leave him. Closing his eyes, he willed his breathing to calm, opening them as Lance let out a particularly loud moan. He was going to die right here. Lance would causally walk into he bathroom and find him dead right there. Keith. Killed by his embarrassment caused by stalkerish ways because he couldn't simply grow a pair and ask Lance out properly. What a way to die. "Slow down, papi... we have all night and this little pup is going to be such a good boy for you both" Drawing both Galra close, Lance traded kisses between the pair, before reaching under his pillow with both hands. The pair of Galra growling as he did "It's ok. We humans need a little help to loosen up down there..." The next moment brought a flurry of action on Lance's end. One moment he was moaning, the next he was tearing two black tranquilliser guns out from under his pillows, both finding their marks against the necks of the two Galra hovering over Lance. It was only a tick before the purple liquid in both had been depressed into the Galra's necks and the pair were scrambling backwards off him Lance, holding the wound site as they glared down at him "Have a nice nap boys" Collapsing down the bigger of the pair cursed "Leandro", promising to "tear his throat out of if he ever saw him again". Lance wasn't phased at all. Climbing from his bed, he made his way to his kitchen where he opened the top draw to withdraw another communicator. This one black in comparison to the orange one Keith had snooped through before "LEA. 2D. NMTN. NCN. RTN. PHNPHS. TS" What was that supposed to mean? Why was Lance listing off a bunch of weird letters and looking so bored about it all as he did. Whatever it meant, that was all there was to the call. Pausing to retrieve a gown from his walk-in-robe, Lance moved to his bedside table where he retrieved two pairs of cuffs. Cuffing both Galra with a sigh, he gave each of them a kick to the side for good measure before dropping back down on the side of his bed. There were plenty of times in Keith's life where he couldn't find the words to say what he wanted, but right now, he wasn't even sure he knew what words were. Through the crack in the door he was forced to watch as Lance pulled the tranquilliser vial from the gun, then slid a softly glowing yellow one into place and held it to his thigh, openly injecting himself with whatever was in there. Placing the gun back down, he then rose to walk over to the kitchen. Keith couldn't... Sinking down onto the toilet, Keith buried his face in his hands. None of this made any sense in any way, shape or form. Lance didn't do drugs. He didn't go around luring Galra back to his bed only to drug them. And who was on the other end of that call? Left to stew a few doboshes passed before there was knock at lance's door and he found himself back on his feet spying all over again. Nodding at Lance, the man in charge of what seemed to be five aliens of the same species as the bouncers downstairs passed Lance a package silently while his goons gathered up the two unconscious Galra. The exchange silent. The group walking out the room like it was an everyday occurrence... "You're welcome! Jodido policia..." Policia... was police. He enough Spanish to know that. That was the police? They didn't look terribly police like, and with all the run ins he had, he really well and truly knew what police officers looked like. The police wanted those two Galra and what... Lance was working with them? Hadn't he been working as a bodyguard? Or had Hunk got it all wrong and assumed a job in security had meant bodyguard? Absolutely every single of one his questions could be answered if he simply burst from the bathroom right now to ask. Instead he sank back down on the toilet. What the Quiznak was all of this?!