#anyways that was a hell of an aside. short answer is yes but it depends in context lmfaooo

[fairymint]

Does 6'1" qualify as 'tall' to Felix?

lmfao Yes, he is only 4'10", so he is actually, coincidentally, around the height of a canon protagonist. Most people are probably tall to him, so in the right contexts, it makes a normal attraction feel more intense.

It's proportionate dwarfism, too- there is no solid reason he should be this way, it might not even be "genetic" (heritably speaking). My parents IRL are normal height, (in fact my dad was around 6ft as well) so whoever his parents are (including amadeus, if he is) are presumably normal height.

Course, when I wrote this down in mind for the meme, I had intense feelings and heavy crushes in mind, which are not a requirement for shipping tbh. like, points towards him wanting a guy/nb like, carnally or longingly enough to ignore anxieties and social faux pas.

but. if they're not these things, just asking him on a date blatantly is still quicker and more effective. he just won't be going sensually insane for them at that moment. if you don't mind emotional slowburn. He actually doesn't fall fast that often, due to parental issues and an independant streak. But logistically will give ppl a chance if they asked.

I'm using 'type' not as potential candidate, but like when someone is teasing you about how bad of a wreck you are about it. he rarely goes bark bark awooga, but it happens sometimes!

and then platonically it just means best friend potential.

[idealisticrealism]

Where do you think the writers are going with the Nadia & Arman & Robert triangle? Arman seemed jealous of Nadia last ep but the writers also fired up Armony again. (loved those Armony moments!!) I think Eva D said in an interview that Nadia won't betray Arman but tensions seem to be rising for sure. I can't see him walking away from Thony at this point.

You'd think that after the insane amount of words I just wrote for my 2x04 recap that I'd try to keep this short... but apparently I am just literally incapable of that when it comes to this show.

But anyway. I have no idea if this will really answer your question, but I'll give it a try. Just bear in mind that I don't look at spoilers so I have no idea what actually lies ahead in this show, I'm just going on what makes sense to me based on what we know of these characters and what we've seen so far in the season.

So, the way I see it, this season needed two things:

a Big Bad with an interesting arc

a way to separate Nadia and Arman, to create room for Armony

What better way to achieve those things than with the same person? Enter Robert, who (at least, as it seems to me) is the linchpin of the season: he's Nadia's ex who clearly still desires her; he has forced Arman into business with him, and now has power over this choices and actions; and he is apparently deeply involved in the drug ring that Garrett is trying to bust, which means Thony is connected to him on two sides-- through being Arman's life business partner, and through Garrett forcing her involvement with Maya.

So, for Robert's plotline to be high enough stakes, it needs to seem like he will actually destroy Arman and everything he's built; and for that to happen, it would likely require a betrayal from Nadia, who knows where Arman is weakest. Which means that we as an audience need to feel that there's actually a genuine possibility of her doing that, and the way to do that is to have her pull away from Arman and move towards uniting herself with Robert.

How perfect, then, that this also allows for the other main plotline of the season, and the one we're all here for: Armony.

I think the writers know that in S1, we viewers were able to put aside the discomfort of the infidelity angle to an extent (I know I absolutely did, and infidelity is usually one of my total deal-breakers)-- and they aided us in that in a few ways, like by making Marco an absolutely terrible husband, and pretty much making it clear that his and Thony's marriage would have already ended before she left for the US if divorce was legal in The Philippines; by having Nadia and Arman's relationship often being portrayed as somewhat businesslike, or even tense and antagonistic at times, where even the more tender parts were generally from Arman reacting to Thony being unobtainable; and by having Armony be just so damn entrancing, but also having them be (relatively) restrained, both of them almost always hiding their emotional connection behind other things, like saving Luca or dealing with the FBI.

After Arman almost being blown up, though, and then being thrown in prison with a man who wanted him dead, and then having to put everything on the line for his freedom, it forced he and Nadia closer again-- partly because yes, there is genuine love there, but also because Nadia knows the life she adores depends on the money and power Arman possesses, and without him she risks going back to having/being nothing; and also partly because Arman feels honour-bound to her, not just as his wife, but as someone who helped save him and who now relies on him for survival.

So how the hell do you make Armony happen in the face of all that, without making Thony look like a homewrecker and Arman look like a dishonourable, ungrateful asshole?

Easy. You have Armony do their best to keep their distance for a few episodes, while still demonstrating Arman prioritising Thony's needs even at the detriment of his and Nadia's own situation-- and all the while, having Robert shower Nadia with respect and appreciation, reminding her how it feels to be desired and adored above all others. Before long, you have Nadia-- proud, self-respecting, slightly spiteful Nadia-- deciding "Alright Hubby, you want to put this other woman's needs above mine? Well, two can play at that game" and cozying herself right up to Robert again.

And ta-da! You suddenly have a marriage where both parties are pulling away from the other in favour of being with someone else, which is so much more comfortable for viewers than seeing Nadia as the loving and dedicated wife who is trying to cling to her husband while he ditches her to get it on with Thony. It's more comfortable for both Arman and Thony, too-- Thony genuinely likes Nadia and doesn't want her getting hurt, hence why she has always stopped things between her and Arman before they could go too far (and of course in S1 it was also because of her own marriage, though that is obviously no longer a factor, thank god). And Arman himself will definitely be relieved to feel the grip of his marriage loosening, though tbh it's still going to be complicated for him-- he'll be stuck between wanting the freedom to be with Thony (and respecting that it's absolutely Nadia's right to leave him), but also feeling like he needs to keep her from allying herself with Robert because of the serious consequences it could have for himself in terms of his business/his debt (and subsequently, the consequences for Thony, who won't be able to run her own cleaning business/clinic without him and his money/connections).

That struggle is going to be a central theme of the season, as is the question (like mentioned above) of 'will Nadia betray Arman and help Robert destroy him?'. And tbh, I don't think she will-- it might look like it, right up until the end, but she won't. Honestly, my dream is that she will fulfil the role of Robert's pretty little plaything until the time is right, and then she'll turn around and betray Robert, taking his entire empire out from under him, and proving she was never just a prize to be won or a possession to be owned. Then the season can end like a matching sequel to the first-- with Robert (like Hayak) either dead or in jail, and Nadia taking her rightful place on his throne, finally getting all the power and respect she's always wanted, while leaving Arman and Thony free to run their own little medical enterprise and live happily ever after like the two idiots in love that they are.

Is that what will actually happen? Probably not, sadly! But still, there's always hope lol-- and honestly, whatever does happen, I really do believe Armony will get through it just fine.

(Whether we fangirls survive is another matter entirely).

Well, anyhow, there's my thoughts lol. I guess the TL;DR is that Robert exists as a romantic counterweight to Thony, and that this season we will see Nadia/Arman turn into Nadia/Robert and Arman/Thony, just as we'll see all the complications that come from those complex connections and interactions and loyalties-- and damn if that ain't gonna be great to watch.

[candychronicles]

heavens // t. keigo/hawks

A/N: my take on the roommates theme for the bnharem collab! honestly didn’t know where i was going with this one and it seems a bit random/rushed so i apologize in advance but hope you enjoy nonetheless! 

CHARACTER PAIRING: Takami Keigo/Hawks x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,491

WARNINGS: oral (f!receiving), some language 

SYNOPSIS: despite his growing popularity, you two remained steady roommates, which confused you to no end. what was his true motive in keeping you around? 

And they were roommates! Click here to read more!

Hawks was an interesting character to say the least. when you first moved in, you weren’t all too sure what to expect. he was, at the time, a fairly popular hero, but nowhere near the status he held today. he was charming, suave, friendly and it seemed genuine at the time. things went downhill quick though as his popularity rose and along with it, his annoying, god-like tendencies. 

what you didn’t understand was why he kept you around after all this time. you didn’t necessarily need to live with him still, but as he got more popular and therefore gained more money, the areas he lived in grew nicer and nicer until you were on a gorgeous top floor penthouse with a stunning view, all for the price of your original, dingy apartment. what you could afford on your own would be nowhere near the luxury that he was offering. that’s why you stayed, but you weren’t sure why he offered to let you continue to stay with him after all this time.

sure, you were friends, got along for the most part and when you didn’t, stayed out of each other’s hair, but he didn’t owe you anything and you certainly didn’t want to feel like you were in his debt. yet something attracted the two of you together continuously despite it all. 

what you didn’t know was that Hawks very much enjoyed having you around. you’d deny it until you were blue in the face but he heard one too many times you touching yourself in your bedroom, muffled moans matching those of the girl or guy he was fucking that night. he often did his best to give you a show, cursing, spitting, hitting, anything he could do to rile you up, get you to hear the lewd sounds coming from the apartment. you acted like you didn’t know what he was talking about, scoffed when he invited you to join him or give you his own private show and acted like you didn’t know he was doing that all on purpose just to tease you. 

truth be told, you pushed all those thoughts aside when it came to him. he was attractive, very much so, and also very unattainable, in your eyes anyways. his god-like complex was annoying at times but also very warranted. he was popular with everyone he met-children, women, men, the elderly, hell, you don’t think he ever met a dog that didn’t like him. he was strong, powerful, commanding of the quirk he weld so well. his personality was nothing short of smooth, like honey over ice cream melting on your tongue. you felt so incredibly drawn to him that your brain absolutely shut out any idea of it, giving yourself no hope that he would ever reciprocate the pure feelings of desire you felt towards him. after awhile, your convincing became reality and you began to question everything, desperate to detach yourself from his enigmatic ways. 

hey sweetheart, will be gone for most of the day. left some money for groceries and a little extra for whatever you want. don’t miss me too much

-H

you scoffed at the note pasted to your refrigerator, neon pink glaring at you in the morning sun trickling from the balcony window. he had been gone a lot lately, sometimes bringing home people at night, mostly crashing straight on the couch before he had even gotten a chance to change clothes. you acted like you didn’t miss him, miss his presence, the lingering touches that you swore were just him being an ass and making fun of you, but in reality, you missed the hell out of him. the domesticity that he showed when it was just you two vulnerable late at night, tired from a hard day of work, it made you realize that he wasn’t a god all the time after all.

that thought didn’t change your mind about his attainability, however. in fact, it only seemed to spur your ideals on more, convincing yourself that a man who could be so vulnerable and yet so strong was one who deserved more than what you could give. it would never be you and you were content with that fact, or so you thought.

your day was long and grueling, working patrols and small missions as a pro hero. you were likeable enough but when it came down to it, you didn’t care to be popular, didn’t care to make a ton of money or be interviewed by dozens of people a month. you just wanted to do your job and keep people safe and at the end of the day, that was what you accomplished. 

it was nearly midnight when you returned home, the elevator dinging closed behind you as you walked into the penthouse. the lights were still off, everything in place from this morning, which meant that Hawks had not arrived home yet despite him being gone for nearly the whole day. anger bubbled up underneath your skin. you knew he didn’t owe you anything, you knew you were nothing more than roommates, but sometimes feeling so isolated and alone in this big space with no one to talk to or do anything with left you antsy and annoyed. in simple frustration and retaliation, you locked the balcony window, forcing him to come up the elevator like a dignified man, bringing his nightly fuck in through the lobby instead of sneaking them inside like he often did.

it was nearly six am before you were woken up to a loud thud, the door smacking against the wall. you sighed, allowing yourself to calm down before you tried to go back to bed, but before you got a chance, a knock sounded at your door.

“what?” you asked irately, not in the mood to entertain him and his antics.

“why’d you lock the balcony window?” he asked simply, arms crossed. 

as you sat up to answer, you noticed his calm demeanor not so calm anymore. his chest was flaring up and down, body wobbly, and he reeked of alcohol.

“so much for a calm night,” you muttered. “i locked the door because i didn’t want to hear you fucking any of your whores while i was trying to sleep.”

“oh baby, you know you like it, like the sounds i make, the words i say. all you have to do is admit it and i can be all yours.”

“you wish bird brain,” you spat back at him, done with the conversation as you shimmied yourself back into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and promptly shutting your eyes, ignoring the feeling of his stare burning into your brain.

“i do wish. i wish it were you i was fucking. i’ve wished that since the day i met you, all excited and doe eyed, ready to take on the world and all of its challenges. you never let my fame get in the way, never treat me any differently. you’ve been by my side throughout it all and yet you won’t let me get too close to you. why is that? afraid i’ll break your heart little one?”

you sat back up again quickly only to realize that he had moved to the foot of your bed. he sat down, taking off his boots and shucking them on the floor only to crawl practically into your lap, snuggling into your thigh.

“i won’t break your heart. i’ll only hurt you if you want me to, which i know you do, at least a little bit. but i’d n-never hurt your heart. you’re too precious for that princess, so sweet to me, so so angelic. and yet i can hear your moans through the walls, practically feel you arching off your bed as you chased your high, desperate for a release, wishing it were me who was touching you instead of your own fingers. i can do that you know. all you need to do is say the magic word and i’m yours. no more fucking other people, just me and you. i’ll spoil you rotten, anything you could possibly want and it’s all yours. you’d never have to worry about a thing again, yeah? what do you say?”

your heart hitched into your throat at his babbling confession. surely he wasn’t serious, right? it must’ve been the alcohol talking. you knew that if you said yes he was just going to tease you and tell you that he was joking and never wanted to see you ever again. you were just sure of it… but, in the off case that he was being serious… you couldn’t mess this up.

“yeah, okay,” you replied, voice hitching in your throat as you agreed with him.

you waited a few seconds for the harsh sting of a reply but nothing came. you cast your eyes down to see Hawks passed out, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. sighing, you flopped back down onto the bed, heels of your palms pressed into your eye sockets, brain full of thoughts as you tried to sift through your feelings. eventually you just gave up and passed out against the cool sheets of your bed, too tired to deal with the emotional turmoil you were putting yourself through.

when you woke up the next morning, Hawks was no longer against your thigh but rather plastered to your side. you weren’t sure how you ended up being spooned by the lanky man but it wasn’t necessarily the first time you had cuddled. your brain began working against you almost immediately, convincing yourself that the previous night's events were nothing more than a drunken spur from your roommate and that he did not, in fact, want to be with you.

with those thoughts in mind, you began to wiggle your way out of his grasp, nearly making it out of bed before you felt a hand shoot out and grab you by the wrist. 

“where are you going beautiful? sleep with a man and then ditch him before he even gets a chance to wake up? how heartless of you.”

“oh shut up, you know damn well that we did not sleep together. in fact, you came in here at six in the morning just to simply annoy the hell out of me. now that’s what i call heartless.”

“we didn’t sleep together but we could’ve,” he teased, fingers rubbing gently up and down your arm as he attempted to coax you back into bed, but your mind worked on overdrive, simply not believing that he was interested in you at all. 

“why do you always like to make fun of me, huh? does it give you some sick satisfaction to dangle hope like that in front of my face only to snatch it away from me if i ever say yes?” you spat, getting sick and tired of his games.

“princess, i’m not lying to you, nor am i making fun of you. i would never offer something like this if i wasn’t serious. i want to take care of you in any way i can-emotionally, sexually, financially, anything you need, i want to give it to you. i was trying to drop you hints, give you the space to come to your own conclusions but it seems that i miscalculated how that pretty little brain of yours works. instead of believing that i was seriously flirting with you, it seems as if you thought that i was making fun of you instead. how funny that the mind works like that sometimes. i must admit i was a fool for not seeing it sooner, but now it makes so much sense.”

“what are you rambling on about?” you asked, furrowing your brow in confusion as you tried to make sense of the fact that he was not only dead serious about wanting to be with you but also psychoanalyzing your thoughts at the same time.

“how you would always get mad when i brought people home but never said anything to me, how you always scoffed at my sweet words, would never take money from me despite me leaving it very clearly for you, never getting too close to me despite living together for years. i’m honestly dumbfounded that i didn’t realize sooner. you’ve been in love with me for a long time too, huh? except, unlike me, you truly never thought you had a chance.”

“u-uh, yeah, i-i just, Keigo, what are you really trying to say to me?”

“sweetheart, be mine, wholly and fully in every way possible. let me take care of you like i’ve always wanted, always tried to do. this isn’t some joke or elaborate ruse, i’m not lying to you or trying to hurt you in any way. i really, truly want to be with you.”

you exhaled heavily, not realizing you had been holding your breath the whole time, searching his eyes for any sign of a lie, not finding anything except sincerity and hope.

“okay,” you relented, nodding your head. “yeah, if you say you’re not lying to me, i’ll trust you. i just, i don’t know. i never realized that you actually liked me back. i never would’ve guessed it in a million years. never would’ve thought i would hear any words like that come out of your mouth let alone so sincerely.”

you looked down, twiddling your thumbs as you contemplated the situation once more, but before you could let your brain get the best of you, Hawks placed his slender fingers underneath your chin, lifting your face up so that you could peer at him. he leaned forward slowly, foreheads pressed together.

“is it okay if i kiss you?”

you nodded your head, squeaking out a quiet “yes” before surging forward to place your lips on his, desperate to feel him, desperate to quiet the negative voices in your head and surround yourself with him instead.

he matched your pace eagerly, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you forward even more, his own desperation leaking through the kiss. he was so enamored with you, the way you smelt, your mussy hair, the sparkle in your eyes, the feeling of your soft lips against his own. it was almost too much to handle. he hadn’t been with anyone in awhile, preferring to wait it out and confront you when he had the courage to do so, and he felt himself getting more and more antsy as time went on. he wanted to respect you, treat you with the dignity and honor that you deserved, but in that moment, all he wanted to do was ruin you and mark you as his own.

“baby, you need to tell me if i go to far, yeah? i just want to make you feel good, never uncomfortable. let me take care of you like you deserve,” he panted, adjusting himself closer to you.

“i trust you Keigo. i’m yours.”

he groaned at the sound of you, of how pathetic and weak you were towards him, how you trusted to be vulnerable around him, trusted that he would take care of you. he had never wanted to ruin anything so badly in his life and he was going to do his best to make sure you knew you were his.

the kisses turned more sensual, tongues dipping in and around each other, exploring one another for what felt like the first time ever. for you, it had been awhile, telling yourself that you were too busy to be sexual with someone else when in actuality you had been craving a certain blonde all along. for him, this was something entirely new and special. he never got the chance to be truly intimate with anyone, let his guard down, want to please his partner more than himself, but you were different, special in the fact that you loved him for him and no other reason than that. 

“please Keigo, i need more,” you whined, fisting at his shirt as you tried to pull him impossibly closer to your body. 

“anything for you princess.” 

his shirt came off first, a delicate process he mastered years ago. he reached for your own shirt, fingers playing at the hem as he once again asked permission. you replied by pulling it off yourself, exposing your breasts to him. he immediately latched onto your left nipple, hand coming up to pinch the right, gently coaxing you to lay back down on the bed as he followed, hands and mouth never leaving your body. he laved you with his tongue, leaving a trail of cool moisture in its wake, sucking and biting at every soft spot he could think of, wanting so hard to hear you moan. 

“that’s it baby, don’t be shy. i want to hear you moan, say my name.”

you responded with a groan as his hand came to rest on your clothed cunt, feeling the wetness through your shorts. he smirked at the realization that you did truly want him as bad as he wanted you and the thought had his cock straining in his pants. it wasn’t long before he had freed himself from his confines, watching the way your eyes drank up the sight of him through the filtered light. 

gently, you reached out your hand to paw at his cock, marveling in the way it twitched at the slightest touch. you were enamored by him, all of him. before you kneeled a greek god willing to worship you, a mere mortal. you didn’t know what you did to deserve this but you figured you’d spend the rest of your life thanking the heavens.

“don’t worry about me right now, yeah? let’s just focus on making you feel good,” he cooed, reaching down to gently tug at your shorts.

you lifted your hips up without question, allowing him to pull the fabric down your body, your underwear coming along with it. he greedily watched as your slick stringed against the fabric before snapping. he was amazed that he could make someone so wet just by kissing them and was more than curious to see how soaked he could get you by the end of the morning.

he slowly dropped himself down to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. kisses were placed to the soft flesh on your legs, pinching and nipping along the way, relishing in the squeals and moans you let out of your mouth. experimentally, he licked up your slit, watching how your breath hitched and your hands grasped the sheets below you, desperate to hold onto something. he licked again, this time using one of his hands to hold you down and the other to come and open you up. you responded immediately, back attempting to arch off the bed at the already intense situation.

he started up a steady pace, watching each little movement, breath, moan, grasp of the blanket to analyze what you liked best. he was enraptured with you, everything about you. you were so strong, fighting crime like it was nothing, doing anything you could to keep citizens safe and yet here you were, putty in his hands, baring your heart for him, trusting that he would take care of you.

the pressure inside of you slowly built up. it was like an intense heat you had never felt before, white hot and pulsing inside your abdomen. you clutched the sheets, your thighs, his hair, anything you could to purchase yourself to this earth as he brought you closer and closer to the promised land. finally, with one final lick, you came, crying out his name in a symphony of praises, singing to the high heavens.

he watched as you came done around his tongue, how your breath labored, eyes screwed shut, face flush and face twisted in pure pleasure. it was a magnificent sight to see, you so relaxed and carefree, enjoying every feeling that flooded over you.

when you had finally come down and your breathing began to even out, you opened your eyes to find Keigo still nestled between your thighs, head resting gently on you.

“how are you feeling love?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your hip.

“like i just left this world and came back,” you answered truthfully, laughing at his proud expression.

“are you okay? is there anything i can get for you?”

“no, Keigo, i think i’m okay,” you answered truthfully.

for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease. your body was relaxed, your mind foggy from the pleasure and you had the man you loved staring up at you like you were the only thing in this world that mattered.

“good, i’m glad you’re okay because we’re not done here. lay back down baby bird, let me make you feel good.”

[13-reasons-ideas]

Once A Serpent? Part 4

A/N: New chapter! It’s a little short but I feel like this is the most logical spot to end it based on what’s coming next. I have decided how I want to show you guys Kennedy and Sweets’ relationship. There might be chapters that end up being only flashbacks, depending on the content but for now, it should just be flashbacks sprinkled in sometimes. Sorry if the spacing is weird. I don't know why it looks funny on my end. As always, much love and feedback is appreciated. -Em

I didn’t hear from Nathan, post breakup, until the next Saturday. I had just gotten home from my first shift at Monet’s. My phone vibrated on the counter. I thought it was my boss, Daphne, or someone from work. I silently hoped it was Monty. I refused to admit that I might possibly have a crush. My breakup was still fresh. When I saw that it was none of those people, but rather Sweet Pea’s name on the screen, I almost spit out my granola bar. What the hell? Why is he texting me now? What does he want? What could he possibly have to say to me? I sighed and decided to leave it unread for a while. He wasn’t worth dropping my snack and homework over. Not anymore. That didn’t stop me from glancing over at my phone every few minutes though.

My curiosity got the better of me and I pushed my math notes aside. I wasn’t going to solve this question anytime soon. Maybe I’ll text Scott and see if he knows the answer. I unlocked my phone and tapped the messages icon. Instead of texting Scott like I should have, I opened Sweet Pea’s text. How’s California? I rolled my eyes. What was I supposed to say to that?

It’s sunny. I locked my phone and stupidly, tried to go back to my math homework. After several minutes of still getting nowhere with it, I gave up and texted Scott.

Hey. Did you figure out question eight? I’m about rip my hair out trying to do it.

Figure it out? No. Get the answer? Yes.

What?

Melissa said it’s 38. Zach agreed.

You know it says ‘show your work’ right?

Well shit.

Yup. I don’t think you can say ‘my girlfriend said it’s this.’ and get points.

I’m busy right now, but we can call later and figure it out?

Sure. Tell Melissa I said hi.

I will when I see her tonight.

You’re not together? I thought you were spending the day together.

Her parents needed her to do stuff for her grandma today so we moved things.

Ah. Sweet Pea texted me a few more times while I finished my work.

You good?

Yeah. My ex is just… I don’t know.

Boy troubles?

You could say that. My phone started ringing. It was Scott.

“Scott.”

“Kennedy.” I could hear voices in the background. “You’re on speaker.”

“You’re calling me because?”

“Boy troubles.”

“Tell him to fuck himself.” Bryce called.

“That would require answering his texts. Are we sure the answer is 38? I don’t think it’s 38.”

“It is.” Zach said.

“What’s he saying? Dude. My mom will murder all of us if you fuck up her couch.” There was a chorus of laughter in the background. I assumed they were being idiots at Scott’s place.

“I don’t want to look.”

“Do it!” the guys called. I groaned.

“What’s the situation there?” Monty asked. Fishing for a story or is he curious?

“K so he hasn’t spoken to me since the breakup. And when I went to return his stuff, I overheard him saying some not so great things.”

“Any more to go on?”

“Secrets Monty.”

“You wouldn’t kill me. You like me somewhere deep down.”

“Sure she does. Real deep.”

“Fuck you Walker.”

“Anyway. He texted me when I got home asking how California is. I told him it’s sunny and haven’t looked at my phone since.”

“Fuck him. Read the texts and call me back.”

“Fine. In the meantime, can you get Zach to explain how the hell this is 38?” I hung up and opened Sweet Pea’s messages.

Sunny?

That’s it? Not exciting? Again, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

Jones misses you.

Fangs wants you to answer his text. Which I assume you never got if you didn’t answer. Because it’s Fangs.

I sighed and answered him. Yes. Just sunny. It’s small and school just started. The only cool thing that has happened is homecoming. We lost. Tell him I didn’t get the text. Short, sweet, and to the point. Maybe now he will leave me alone.

I texted Scott. No point in calling. He basically was just asking if I got a text from my friend or not.

That’s weird.

I know.

I abandoned my phone for the rest of the day. I didn’t want to think about Nathan and his out of the blue text. If I kept my phone on me, I would just read it over and obsess over it. That wasn’t healthy. We broke up. We were over. We both had to accept that. Random texts weren’t okay. After all, I was the experiment. “Took him two years to figure that out?” I spat. My parents were gone for the night, so the house was empty. My question was met with silence. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get his text out of my head.

I needed a distraction. I tried cleaning the kitchen. Scrubbing at the already clean counters. Mopping the floor. I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher. Once that was done, I went upstairs and did my laundry. Folded my shirts and hung my pants. How’s California? I huffed and emptied out my closet. I didn’t like how it was organized when we moved in. The pretty little rich girl. I ripped a sweater off its hanger. Experiment. I threw a pair of jeans across the room. Was never going to work out anyway. Both better off. I screamed and pulled at my hair. I hadn’t let myself really feel the emotions of our breakup. It all happened so fast that I never really got a chance to take a breath and accept it. And so, I did what any sane person would do. I sat on my floor and sobbed. I let myself feel the cold loneliness that I wrapped in too warm sweaters during the day and thick, heavy blankets at night. For the first time in a month, I freely let my mind run wild with memories. Once, they were cherished. Now though… now they felt tainted. Like everything we did, like all of our promises from the last two years meant nothing.

FLASHBACK

I was curled up on Nathan’s bed, flipping through an old comic book. He was in the kitchen. I could hear cupboard doors opening and closing. The scrape of metal on glass filled the trailer. I winced. “Sorry.” He called. I didn’t respond. He came back into his room with a pb & j on a plate for us to share. Not exactly the healthiest breakfast. My mom would flip if she saw me eating this at nine a.m.

“Thank you.”  I mumbled as I sat up. He joined me on the bed silently and kissed my temple. We ate our sandwich quietly, while we shared the comic I was flipping through. He, of course, knew it by heart. But he still reacted like it was the first time he was reading it when a twist happened. I smiled to myself because I knew he was only doing it for my benefit.

As we laid together lazily, wasting a dreary Saturday morning, he played with my hair. “This is it, right?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“This is what they mean in all those old movies and books we read for English, about that person? The person who is it for you? This is what they are talking about?”

“I think so.” I nodded.

“So, this is forever?” He sounded hopeful.

“Yes. This is it.” I had long since abandoned any fear of leaving. I had allowed myself to become comfortable. I was content. And madly and completely in love with Nathan.

“I promise this is forever.”

“Forever.” I sat up and kissed him deeply.

END FLASHBACK

I remained on the floor as more memories ran through my mind. Eventually, I heard my phone ringing somewhere in the background. I ignored it. Sometime later, my parents came home. I had stopped crying but was still on my floor. My parents called my name. I groaned in response. “Kennedy?” my mom asked as she came in my door.

“What?” My voice was gravely and sounded hollow.

“Oh, honey.” She came and sat with me. Her hand ran through my hair, untangling it. My dad came up the stairs.

“Girls?”

“In here.”

“Oh my.” Dad stayed in the doorway.

“I hate him. I hate him Mom.”

“I’ll get the ice cream.” Dad said before retreating back downstairs. Mom pulled me into her lap. Together, we stood and slowly made our way downstairs.

Dad had ice cream on the counter with three spoons. I took a chair over to the counter and sat down, pulling the tub towards me. We are an eat it out of the tub kind of family. “Don’t hog all the brownie bits.”

“I make no promises Pops.”

“What happened honey?”

“Nate texted me.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing of consequence. Just… nothing.” I sighed.

“I’m sorry pumpkin. I always thought I should have kicked his ass.”

I laughed. “Dad!”

“What? It’s my right as your father to kick ass.”

“Dad!”

By Monday I was in a better mood. I was back to thinking that Nathan didn’t matter anymore. Scott was waiting for me at my locker with his math homework. “This is how it is 38 apparently.” He handed the papers to me.

“Morning Scott.” I looked over the work. It was all Greek to me. “Uh… huh. Right. Sure.”

“Oh good, you agree.” I pulled my textbook out of my bag and pulled out the loose sheet from this weekend. Handing it to Scott, I shoved another book in to replace it. My sweater was balled up in my locker and I slammed it shut. We started on our way to class as I scribbled the work off Scott’s paper to mine. Bryce and the guys caught up with us near the cafeteria.

“What did you get up to this weekend?” Bryce asked. He snaked his arm around my shoulder. I rolled my eyes and brushed him off.

“Not much. Reorganized my closet. Watched movies with the parents. You?”

“I had a date.” He shrugged. The boys groaned and made some stupid comments.

“Fantastic. Was she nice?”

“Nice enough.” He smirked. “How’s the ex?”

“He sucks. And has gone radio silent again, thankfully. I had ice cream. I feel better.” Melissa walked over to us and hugged me tightly. I stiffened. I wasn’t good with unprovoked touching.

“Men suck.”

“Hey!” Scott protested.

“Not you hon. I’m sorry Kennedy.”

“Don’t be. It was bound to happen sometime. Also yes.” I shrugged. The bell rang and I waved bye to my friends.

Justin and I got to work Tuesday afternoon at the same time. I watched as he pulled his sweater over his head in one motion. I could feel my neck flush. Not because I was attracted to him or anything. It’s just one of those things that is attractive anytime a guy does it. It was my third shift, so I was still learning the basics. The register was easy enough to do. You selected the drink, any customizations, and any extra items, and then took the money. Fairly simple. For the most part. I had already had some ‘I only like the idea of coffee’ orders. One girl asked for eight pumps of syrup in her medium latte. The espresso bar was a work in progress. The buttons were finicky lately, or so I had been told by Daphne on my first day.

I was finishing an espresso order for a ‘Prestilla’ when I could feel someone’s eyes on me. I tried to ignore the feeling, but it wouldn’t go away. I was used to the feeling of being watched. But I wasn’t as new in town anymore. People were starting to ignore me. I shook my head slightly. When I looked up, Montgomery was watching me from the doorway. I smiled at him softly. He nodded in my direction. I pretended not to pay attention when he came to order. “Monty.”

“Justin.” I wasn’t dumb. I knew they weren’t friends. Even though I knew that I was taken aback by Justin’s slightly hostile tone. We were at work.

“What can I get for you?” I choked back a snort at his customer service voice.

“Pour over with cream.”

“Anything else?”

“What’s in the lemon raspberry muffin?”

“Is… Are you-?” Justin muttered but stopped himself. “Lemon. And raspberries. And whatever else goes in a muffin.” I hummed, trying not to laugh.

“One of those.”

“That’ll be five ten.” I turned to grind the coffee for the pour over, groaning slightly.

“How’re you?” I turned around and tilted my head. I couldn’t hear Monty very well over the coffee grinder. He held up a hand for me to wait. Once the coffee was ground, I was able to hear again. “I asked how you are.”

“Oh, I’m good. You know, working. You?”

“Good. Work okay?”

“It goes.” I was never good at small talk.

“Fair enough. Are you working Friday night?”

“I don’t think so? Why, what’s up?”

“Bryce’s parents are out of town so he’s having some people over after the game. Did you want to come?”

“Sure. I think Melissa and I are going to the game together. Are you planning on winning this week?”

“We always plan to win.” Justin piped up. “Here’s your lemon raspberry muffin, that has lemons and raspberries.”

“Thanks.” I handed Monty his coffee and he smiled at me. “See you tomorrow, Kennedy.”

“See you, Monty.”

[itsclydebitches]

I’ve been seeing an uptick in “anti-RWDE” posts lately  — which is a phenomenon I’d like to comment on at a later date  — but for now one of them (quite unintentionally) made me realize something about the finale that I haven’t seen others discuss yet. 

So RWBYJNOR saves everyone, right? Let’s just put aside the animation for a moment  — which didn’t show any army members making it out  — as well as the forgotten side characters  — Maria, Pietro, Qrow’s group isn’t forgotten, but still left behind  — and take things on good faith here. We’ll read the finale through the thematic intention: RWBYJNOR saved “everyone” in the Kingdom of Atlas in Volume 8, deliberately contrasting them with Ironwood who was willing to sacrifice a chunk of the Kingdom in Volume 7. Forget all the messiness and just accept that regardless of the consequences  — like a destroyed Kingdom and a “dead” team  — the heroes are heroic because they didn’t give into a “lesser evil” thinking and managed to save everyone. 

Now, how was that possible? 

Let’s go back to the beginning of the seventh episode of Volume 8, “War.” Salem’s grimm have just burrowed through Atlas’ defenses and taken them out. The shields are gone. She flies Monstra into the fields and releases an army of darkness that immediately heads for the city. What’s the very first thing Ironwood does? 

Soldier: Yes, sir?

Ironwood: I am evacuating all citizens to the subway. Prepare Manta Squad Omega, and dispatch to every part of Atlas.

Soldier: But sir-

Ironwood: Now!

He evacuates the people, with “the people” meaning all the Atlesians and however many Mantle folk got to the city prior to Salem’s arrival. When this episode aired I mentioned being confused as to why the soldier was so hesitant. Why wouldn’t you want the people to get to safety when a grimm army is heading their way? Fans against Ironwood took the soldier’s side, claiming that Mountain Glenn proved that any underground evacuation is a death sentence and thus he obviously doesn’t really care about the peoples’ safety. Fans in support of/neutral towards Ironwood pointed out that this is a pretty big leap, no one is coming up with a better idea for what he should do instead, and that within these circumstances it reads like the soldiers is illogically against this idea simply because everyone is against Ironwood now. The show wants characters criticizing his decisions and making him out to look like a crazed dictator... even during moments when it doesn’t make any sense to be upset with him. Shooting the councilman yes, trying to keep the people safe no. Basically, this small exchange was a mess, but the rest of the volume proved that this was a sound call. The subway never collapsed and no grimm ever made it to that enclosed space to pick the civilians off like fish in an underground barrel. 

So, why didn’t that happen? Well, one answer is because Oscar and Ozpin destroyed the whale. But how did they have time to do that? Without the people dying while they were being tortured, talking to Hazel, escaping with Emerald, fighting Salem, etc.? A lot happened between Salem starting her attack and Oscar ending it, so why wasn’t 2/3rds of the Kingdom’s population decimated during that time? 

Because Ironwood sent his army out to keep the grimm occupied. 

Outside of Ironwood’s cartoon villain actions  — random murders and bomb threats  — which get the most attention due to how deliberately, over-the-top horrific they are, these are the two actions that get the most negative attention from both the story and the fanbase. The soldier seems horrified by the order to evacuate. Marrow is devastated that young adults are fighting in this battle. The fandom is disgusted by both aspects of Ironwood’s character: giving orders that, as general, he expects to be obeyed and having an army that follows those orders. Putting side that cartoon villainy, this is what supposedly makes Ironwood the antagonist here. These are the qualities that have existed since Volume 2, resulting in a “he was always a bad guy” interpretation. These are the qualities that have resulted in anyone who likes his character being labeled as a “bootlicker.” We know these qualities make the fandom hate him because otherwise, more people would be confused as to why a presumably heroic character randomly shot Oscar. Orders, armies, and general military associations are at the heart of Ironwood’s presumed villainy. 

So let’s remove them. 

Ironwood has no evil army. Ironwood gives no evil orders. Power and control lies solely in the hands of our non-military heroes. Everything is better! 

...well, no. Because we saw in Volume 8 precisely the choices our heroes made when the attack started: half of them focused on saving a single individual (Oscar) and the other half kept to the sidelines. At no point did our RWB group act after sending the message and prior to securing the Staff. AKA, during the attack of Salem’s army. We got a very explicit moment in which Ruby looked out the window at the battle going on and turned away from it, continuing to discuss ethics instead of joining the fight. The people of Atlas (which, again, includes many Mantle citizens) had no one but Ironwood and his army because a third of the group was trying to rescue Oscar (they never even had a plan to blow up Monstra — that was also Ironwood), a third of the group was up in Amity, and a third was sitting in the mansion. They did nothing to help the people of Atlas being attacked by grimm. 

Thus, if you remove Ironwood’s actions, everything goes to hell. There is no longer an order to evacuate to the subway. Maybe some people go there anyway. Most probably don’t. They run in a panic wherever they can. Hide wherever they can. Go back home for some semblance of safety. 

There’s no longer an army. Either it doesn’t exist because we’ve determined it’s simplistically bad despite RWBY’s grimm-specific context, or Ironwood likewise never gives the order to protect Atlas’ border. Salem’s army moves unimpeded through the city, killing countless people as it goes. How do we know? Because they’re civilians who can’t defend themselves and there’s literally no one else to help. Remember: Ironwood is not giving orders, there is no army, RWB is in the mansion, YJOR is in the whale, Penny is out of commission, the Happy Huntresses are in Mantle. Those in Atlas are entirely alone. In time, Oscar destroys the whale, but by then it’s too late. There’s no concrete way to theorize how many have died, but it’s inevitably a lot. Everyone else is scatted across the city, trying to survive. 

So this scene 

no longer exists. 

When the group gets the Staff and creates portals for “everyone” to escape through, Mantle is ready to go. They’ve gotten everyone into the crater and can funnel them straight to Vacuo. Atlas, however, is in chaos. When Jaune enters the subway there’s only a few people there, many of which may be wounded or dying. He’s right back where he started, in Mantle at the beginning of Volume 8: needing to go door-to-door to find where people have hidden themselves, trying to convince them all to follow him (remember Oscar commenting to Ozpin about how difficult that was?). Except now, he and Nora are the only ones trying to get people to safey, the city is filled with far more grimm, a significant amount of time has passed for people to be killed or injured (making evacuating them even harder, both due to injuries and an unwillingness to leave hurt/dead/missing loved ones behind), he’s trying to convince these panicking people to go through magic portals, not just walk to a crater, and he’s aware that there’s a very short time limit for this task. 

Jaune returns in a panic of his own, explaining how difficult it will be to get that 2/3rds of the Kingdom to Vacuo. How many are already dead. Barricaded. Missing. Closeup on Ruby looking horrified, but then she rallies. They can do it. Atlas is falling, but residual dust gives them just enough time to find, calm, and evacuate those people. They’re heroes after all. Beating the odds is what they do. 

Then Cinder attacks. 

Suddenly, the group can’t evacuate people because they’re trying to keep themselves safe from her. Maybe Cinder gets the powers because Jaune was off looking for civilians, leaving Penny without a mercy kill. Maybe Nora dies because she’s still trying to help people on the city that plows into the one below. Regardless of how details might change, they’re not getting a spread out, decimated population through those portals before Cinder changes the wish and makes them disappear.  

In this version, the story starts with Ironwood wanting to sacrifice 1/3rd of the population to save 2/3rds and the future of the war. It ends with 2/3rds of the population dying instead. 

This is what I mean when I say the majority of the fandom wants to view a very complex situation through a ridiculously simple lens. The fandom wants to denounce every bit of RWBY’s fictionalized military, the context issues of that aside. The story wants to paint RWBYJNOR as the only heroes, in part because they succeeded in saving everyone (“everyone”) in the Kingdom when Ironwood gave up. 

But they only managed to save everyone because of Ironwood. Because he kept fighting for his people to the bitter end. This is why, though his horrific actions obviously exist in the story, they make no sense (he’ll threaten to kill his people so he can... save his people?) and mess up what little is working in the finale. The story wants us to celebrate the group for evacuating Mantle and Atlas, but the Atlas evacuation would not have happened if not for Ironwood’s actions  — the actions that are ignored in favor of having Winter blame him for everything and then killing him off. The rescue of “everyone” was very much a joint effort. RWBYJNOR’s win is not actually a contrast to Ironwood’s intended sacrifice, for the simple reason that their win depended entirely on Ironwood’s actions. 

If we’re going to celebrate the group getting everyone to safety, we should probably also celebrate the guy who got them all to an easy evacuation point and ensured they weren’t eaten before then. Does that mean Ironwood never did anything wrong? Of course not. As established, the story went out of its way to make him into a villain. Rather, it means that other parts of the story failed to maintain that black and white view, complicating the heroism of RWBYJNOR in the process. If we want Ironwood to be incapable of heroic action, always the bad guy, nothing good to say about him whatsoever... then we likewise need to accept that the group is rather unheroic in many regards too. That, on their own, they would have failed to save everyone, just as Ironwood’s plan failed to save everyone at the end of Volume 7. Because they chose their friend over a kingdom. Because they sat around in a mansion. Because by the time they took action again and tried to escape, without Ironwood’s help they would have lost a larger majority than they originally insisted be saved. 

[slashingdisneypasta]

Human!Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: What The Fuck Now, Freddy!?

Notes:

This is not inherently romantic, at all. Or sexual. Just... Freddy being a bastard, and you are caught in the crosshairs- and are forever linked with him because of it.

I've been listening to Lizzie, a lot lately- and this is inspired by 'What The Fuck Now, Lizzie!?'

Also- I'm thinking this will have a part 2. Due to the ending not being quite enough. Maybe a part for the court proceedings!

Plot: Many will know the story of that terrible day Krueger essentially snapped- killing his wife, Loretta Krueger. She saw the basement, they say, and he didn't like that. Their daughter saw the whole thing and suffered a traumatic response to seeing the sight of her mother, strangled to death, by her father- and forgot the whole thing.

But if she were to remember something, one day.

She may remember something no one knows about that day, aside from Freddy himself.

She may remember, that someone else was there.

She may remember you.

//

Alternatively- you're being blackmailed by Freddy who found out you, another supposedly Plain Jane in Loretta's 'mothers club', is cheating on your husband and calls you up to help deal with the mess he made. Because who else did he have?

Warnings: Okay lemme see, its basically a potluck of triggers. Hm. Murder, swearing, cheating (You, on your husband. Not with Freddy), getting rid of a body, a child gets traumatised (Obviously, Kathy/Maggie), Freddy himself, mention of the basement and all that entails, reader with a very questionable moral compass. Look, I think if you can watch Freddy's Dead, you're good here.

I'm just heading out the door, to go grocery shopping - or, at least, that's the story I tell my husband. When really I don't do the grocery shop until the day after tomorrow. He never notices... - when the phone rings. By very nearly tripping over my feet in my endeavour to catch it before the ringing stops, I manage pick up the phone with very little injury besides an achy, slightly twisted ankle. "Hi! Hi, sorry, I'm here. Hello?"

Pouting, I sit down at the kitchen table; Rubbing my poor ankle to sooth the pain, which would soon diminish anyway. Still- I'm sorry, ankle. I'll try to chill.

When the voice on the other end reveals who it is who's called the house, I lose all need to be pleasant. Damn. I really need to memorise this goddamn number... so I can not answer it. "Whatcha wearin'?"

"Thank god Harrison didn't answer this, you fuck." I deeply roll my eyes. Thank god Har's out. No, this is not my mister, not the man I was going to meet just now- but its bad, enough. In an entirely different way. Its stupid, blackmailing, son of a... hundred maniacs. "What do you want?"

"What a way to answer the phone, Y/N. Gee, seems like every time I we talk, I'm learning how you really aren't in the right place, are you? Cheating on your poor husband, swearing... These aren't really signs of the perfect suburban house wife, is it?" Gritting my teeth, I keep from lashing out. I've learned, if you stay real quiet, Freddy wont have anything to pull from and will get bored quick. "Why so silent, hm?"

"... " Oh, fuck me. I cant help it. "Wondering where you get off judging me on being 'suburban', actually."

"Anywhere I like, thanks."

Oh... oh. Gross?

He doesn't see the disgust tearing my face into two perfect halves right now, but my silence must be enough as he laughs. The sound is directly into the phone, and harsh on my poor eardrums. Ugh... "Oh for gods sake... What are we? Fourteen years old?? Come on- why'd you call?"

"Uhhhh... " Quickly, midway through that drawn out 'um' sound, Freddy's voice transitions, and gets a whole lot darker. Something deep in his chest dislodging, to make it so. Perhaps, his heart. "Well... you might wanna come and see for yourself."

"Uh, I don't think so. I have somewhere to be right now- "

"Oh well you don't, anymore." And its clear what he isn't saying- or else I'll tell Harrison about Carter and set your life on fire. "Tell your boy toy you're takin' a reign check for the day. I think you'll last. In fact... after you come over here, you might be out of the game for a couple a hours at least- maybe days."

Hold on, hold on Freddy what the fuck- "What!?"

"... Believe it or not, I didn't actually mean for that one."

Moron.

~

Nevertheless, no matter how just... off setting, Freddy is, I had to when he asked. I had to jump when he said so.

Because if not, then he would tear my life apart.

So here I am, about to knock on that big red door he lives behind, wondering what I'm walking into. Where's Loretta? Where's Kathy? How long will the visit be? I told Carter I'd be an hour or two late- any longer and I wont see him at all today. Which would absolutely suck.

Just after my knuckles come down on the wood the first time, a hand comes down on my shoulder and I immediately jump out of my skin... then slowly look around.

There's Freddy, a cheeky grin on his face. It does nothing to set my nerves at ease. "Ugh... Why are you out here?"

"We're going to the backyard. Lets go." Taking me by the shoulders, he marches me around the side of the house, instead of through it for some reason, and into the familiar backyard. I've been here numerous times, as Loretta likes to hold our club meetings here - Barbecue's, tea's... that sort of thing. Just to let the kids play together and so the adults can enjoy some adult conversation. Its a nice yard... but depending on what her horrid husband is about to show me, it may not be considered as such anymore... - , but I'm now starting to develop a sick feeling in my stomach.

Honestly- I don't know much about Freddy at all. Yes, I went to school with him, but that doesn't mean much when he was a freaky loner kid the whole time. I remember he killed the class hamster once- that's about the only splash he ever made in the news pool; But it definitely stuck.

Yes, Loretta cleaned up his image a fair bit since getting married, but now he's blackmailing me, and as far as I know I'm now alone with him.

Suspicious of him suddenly, I slip out of his grip with a dirty look flashed his way. Don't touch me.

He just rolls his eyes, leading me around some hedges.

And then everything stops.

Him, me, the air; The air around me, the breeze, the breath in my throat.

There lays Loretta, on the ground. If I was really really naïve, I could imagine she were sleeping... or passed out, at least, due to the way she's sprawled out. No one would lay down like that willingly.

But... her eyes are open.

For a moment I'm tempted to kneel down; Take a closer look. Find out how, myself. Is she bleeding anywhere that I cant see now? Are her lips turning blue? If I moved some short red hair out of the way- would their be marks on her neck yet?

But then I come to my senses...

And freak. The fuck. O u t.

"What, the fuck, did you do!?" I whip around, looking at Freddy now which entirely new eyes. I mean, before I sure wasn't fond- but now I'm filled with something new, looking at him. Something a lot worse, something that makes me want to run. Run, and hide, and stay there.

And all these, even though he hasn't really changed. He still wears a mischievous smirk, stony blue eyes eating up my reactions... like always. But this time its just so so much worse. "Made some dead weight- now you're gonna help me get rid of it. So!" Finally, though its been only a matter of seconds, he turns his gaze off of me and I'm glad. That gaze is far too heavy. "Ideas?"

Only for a moment am I lost for words, struggling to push anything out. "I... I'm sorry??"

His gaze returns to mine, but this time my eyes are hard as his are dark. "Help. Me. Get rid of her. Fucking. Body. Or do you want your dirty laundry aired for the whole community to hear?"

Before I can help myself, I let out a sharp laugh, only succeeding in making Freddy's scowl deeper. "Freddy- this secret's a lot bigger, then mine. Sure, I might get divorced- but you're going to prison!" Does he get that? He's g o i n g to j a i l. Crossing my arms, I try to avoid looking at my ex-friend's body. I cant. "I'm sure as hell not gonna be in there with you, for being an accomplice."

I really cant look at her... I can only focus on Freddy. And that takes a lot of energy- its taking everything in me, in fact. Everything I have. But I have to. If its him or her, there's no choice.

But... then a creepy smile spreads across his face- a vast polarity to the frustrated glower of before. It makes my blood run cold.

"Ohhhh..." He looks almost ferocious, even in his composed state. Like a monster. Like any moment a fanged, inhuman creature is going to burst out of him and I'm going to wake up, and this will have been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The kind where that creature haunts me for a long time, after its over. After this over.

He's going to haunt me.

"You must think this is my first time... " My heart turns to ice, mouth hanging a little open... what the fuck have I found myself a part of!? Suddenly all the children's disappearances on the news lately come to the forefront of my brain... "Sweetheart, give a man his dues. I'm a hard working kinda guy... " I watch his gaze flicker to a door - the back door? No... The basement door, - and when a filthy smirk pulls at his mouth, my heart flies up into my throat. God, it makes me feel sick. I want to be violently ill. "My first was my adoptive Dad... pretty sick, huh?"

The fact that he didn't say anything about the basement, makes my imagination go wild. I swallow it down, though.

I just need to get out of here, and never think about this again.

And to do that I need to help Freddy get rid of this goddamn body- and... probably... testify at court... As the panic starts to finally rise up in my, right up to fill my throat, I immediately take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay... " No time to freak out. Now's the time for action.

Gaze flickering to Loretta again, I try to acclimatise to the sight. I think its a lost cause, though. "How did you get rid of him? Your Dad?"

"No, that's not gonna work. He was a drunk dead beat, and I just had to tell the police some guy's he owed money to came over to the house." Freddy grins happily at the memory, but then just as quickly, scowls at his poor deceased wife's body- that certainly cant fight back. I just tack this onto the long list of reasons I hate him. "Lore's such a goddamn goody goody- we cant do the same thing. You don't think I woulda thought of that??"

"Hey." I snap, hands braced on my hips as I flash a glare his way. "This is not the time to get defensive!"

"Whatever... "

Then- suddenly, something occurs to me. Confused, I look around; A deeply horrified feeling disturbing my stomach. "Hold on... Where's your daughter?" Seeing no sign of her anywhere, I definitely start to panic again- especially when I look to Freddy and just see a pert look in his eyes as he looks back at me, a smile that strikes something horrid inside me. My eyes narrow. "You sick fuck- where the fuck is she!??"

"Under the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean!?" I exclaim, frustrated and freaking out. He did not- he did not! Killing your spouse is one thing, but the kid?? Your own kid??

I don't wait around for him to be cryptic some more, and rush right into the house to look for her. Under the bed, under the bed, under the fucking bed...? Which fucking bed!? Forcing ferocity out of my voice, I carefully call out to Kathy. Hoping to god she answers. I try to sound normal. Maybe a little bit cheerful; Excited.

But my voice wobbles.

"Kathy?? Sweetheart, its Y/N! Are you hiding? I have something for you... " ?? You have something for her, Y/N?? God... now you have to figure out some kind of treat.

You know what? Whatever. We'll figure that out later.

Lets just hope we aren't searching for a corpse. I'd definitely be sick, seeing a child... the way Loretta is...

Shaking my head and clenching my fists, I try to focus on Kathy.

I check under the bed in the guest room because it comes into view first and she isn't there, then her bedroom and she isn't there either... and get a sick feeling as soon as I enter the last bedroom. Freddy's and Loretta's.

God, I've never been in here before but its like a museum peace now. A horrible one. Like if you would walk into the Titanic... or the Borden house.

"Kathy? You in here?" Flicking on the light I kneel down on the ground, and check under the bed.

And something immediately crashes over me, as the sight of her covering her eyes down there. It isn't exactly relief, because this whole situation is still phenomenally fucked up for her, but I am selfishly glad to not have to see her body... crumpled, just like her mother.

"Hey sweetheart," My voice quivers slightly now, but I quickly swallow. No. No. Now, you must be strong Y/N. "Its just me. Your Daddy was looking for you, and couldn't find you! It got him worried!"

"I... I don't wanna see Daddy. He hurt Mommy." Kathy doesn't remove her hands from her face, and stays firmly by the wall- too far away for anyone to grab. My heart sinks.

Slowly straightening up again, I try to take that piece of information in. Turning to the doorway, I see Freddy there. he must have followed me. I didn't even notice. Slowly, and quietly ferociously, I say; "She saw?!"

He has the good sense to look embarrassed, even if it is just to make fun of me. "It was spur of the moment... " He shrugs. "I didn't have time to get a babysitter!"

What a fucking excuse. For gods sake.

I'm definitely dealing with a psycho- if that was even a question before now.

Swiftly, I look down under the bed again, because I'm afraid that if I continue to engage with him- I'll scream, and I'll lose my breath, and I'll scare Kathy even more. She's at the forefront of my mind; That's all I can think about.

But what to do with her after I get her out from under this bed, I don't know. I cant give her back to her father... but I cant hand her over to the police either because that would involve telling them about Loretta, and... Freddy will definitely kill me, for that.

This is a nightmare of a situation.

I'm just opening my mouth to say something - what, I don't know yet, - when she speaks, instead. "Is he there?"

"... Yes." I wont lie to her; That would be treating her with not nearly as much respect as she deserves.

When she takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, as if just trying to keep herself together, my heart clenches. God... and to think I might not have picks up Freddy's call today. I would have been leaving her with this. For the first time today, I'm morbidly glad I came.

She speaks in that loud, hissy way that kids think is a whisper. "Can he... can you please make him go away?"

Immediately I straighten back up and look to Freddy again, my eyebrows raised halfway up my forehead. Like well? "Get out."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands here, bi- "

"Do you want Kathy to live down there now!??" I snap, trying not to be scared. Not really feeling scared, actually. Just happy to have a reason to tell him to get the hell away from me.

A deep frown creases his mouth, deeply unhappy about the situation, but steps back. I only hear him step out of the way of the door, but its good enough. Quickly, I get up and close the door - fighting with myself not to slam it, - and lock it.

Then I return to the floor, and see this time Kathy has uncovered her eyes. She looks so small, smaller then she actually is, and she looks like she's shaking. Little red bows and piggy tails in her hair are messy from crawling under the bed. "He's gone, sweetheart. And I locked the door."

She just nods, so I take the silence as a chance to offer my hand to her. "Take my hand, sweetie? Come on out from under the bed. Its cold down there, and no one wants you getting sick." I need to upkeep the family friend bit, I need to sound caring and collected. I need her to trust me.

Her big eyes, not Loretta's colour or Freddy's, look nervous as hell. And she shakes her head.

Taking a deep breath, and I conjure all the sincerity as I can. And mean it. My eyes soften and I try really hard, to resent myself as someone trustworthy- which is hard, seeing as I've never really been that. I mean, I'm cheating on my husband. I told Carter today the same lie I told Harrison when i knew I was going to be late. The only person I think who knows the truth behind all my lies is Freddy. That says something about a person, that the only person who knows them is a psychopath.

But I want to, I need to, be good for this little girl. And there's no time for me turn my life around so it has to start with this. How fucked is that?

"... I promise, I'll take care of you. He wont hurt you."

After a few whole minutes, in which I stay silent because yes she's a child, but she's still thinking, she crawls over and takes my hand, letting me lead her out. Crawling into my lap as I cross my legs under her, she buries her face in my shirt- hiding. "You promise?"

Taking a deep breath, because I've really done it now, I offer my pinky for her to see if she turned her head. I know Freddy's listening to all of this through the wall, but I try not to freak out. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear." She peaks out from my shirt, and curls her little finger around mine. Okay... "Y/N... I'm scared."

"Yeah... Me too, sweetie."

What am I going to do?

[fansofvow]

"no honour among thieves", a queer, crime-thriller visual novel by - wait. mod galen?!

that's right folks! you might've noticed i kinda vanished off of the face of the earth for a hot second there. reason being, i've been creating my very own visual novel, day in and day out - and today i can finally present a piece of it to you all. the demo is officially out!

what's no honour among thieves about, you may ask? the short answer would be sexy felons fucking each other over in every meaning of the word. as for the long answer...

no honour among thieves stars you, the unnamed, never-shown mc so you can project and create to your hearts content, a criminal of many trades, con art being one of them. when the ex-boyfriend of a hot mafia boss asks you to seduce and break the heart of said mafia boss for a shitton of money, you find yourself tangled up in one hell of an adventure as the resident biker gang's leader also wants a piece of the action and is acting as a glorified guard dog. there's also a girl who's willing to sell your soul to the devil for a cornchip.

as you can tell, i'm great at summaries.

memes aside, i've been working really hard on this project for months now, so if you could support it, it'd mean the world to me! you can find me on:

twitter

itch.io

and patreon!

the kickstarter to fully-fund this originally small, but now rather ambitious project, will be launching anywhere between a few days time to a week or so, depending how things go, so keep your eyes peeled (but don't worry, i'll be sure to share it on here, too.)

now, the characters!

afrom left to right - navin devraj (he/him), mercury jackson (he/she), xanthe wilde (he/they), and the siren, a.k.a siren lewis (she/her).

xanthe and mercury, the mafia boss and biker gang leader, respectively, are so far the only love interests in the game - and yes, they're both nonbinary because i can! we need more rep and i do what i want! but one of the kickstarter stretch goals is to give navin and siren route as well. either way, they will remain important side characters that the mc can become fwbs with if they so wish ;)

none of the romances are gender-locked, as they're all bi or pan anyway, and you can choose your mc's gender, attire, pronouns, title - later on you can even specify the petnames the li's will call you. that's on inclusion for everyone, babey!!

this is getting long, so i'll wrap it up.

check out the demo here!

mod galen, checking out~

-

ps: be a dear and reblog this so i can get the word out, will you? rts on my twitter also help a ton!

[jonahlovescoffee]

“good morning, sunshine” | J.M.

part one of the better together series

a/n: jonah’s latest instagram story with wes just hits different (*¯︶¯*) i mean have you heard his morning voice?! like damn i want it to be the first thing i hear when i wake up everyday :’( thanks to @chilling-seavey for sending the story into my dm early in the morning, it has been stuck in my head all day and i can’t focus on doing anything else >:(

summary: your daughter was far too enthusiastic in the morning.

word count: 1390

warnings: jonah being cute with kid, fluff overload, one occurrence of the f word, suggestive themes in the end.

“Daddy, mommy, wake up!” A cheerful 3-year-old child with shoulder-length brown hair and mesmerizing hazel eyes swung the door to your room open and rushed in, her teddy bear held tightly to her chest with an arm, her small feet thudding against the floor in an inconsistent rhythm as she ran towards the bed you shared with Jonah.

You immediately placed your phone aside on the nightstand upon the arrival of your enthusiastic daughter. You had already woken up moments ago but were reluctant to leave Jonah’s arms that were wrapped tightly around your body. No matter how many times you had woken up in this position with him, you’d never get tired of the way he protectively held you in his arms even as he slept, the sound of his soft snores and the comforting warmth that his body radiated.

“Morning, sweetie,” your lips broke into a smile when she stood on her tippy toes near the edge of the bed to kiss your cheek. She then proceeded to join both of you on the bed, squeezing her way between you two and making herself comfortable by purposely stretching her limbs out here and there so that you’d offer her more space. Her rough movements made Jonah stir from his peaceful slumber, rubbing his eyes as he grumbled under his breath about how much he needed more sleep.

As soon as he saw his daughter though, his initial moody expression brightened up instantly, his frown replaced by a broad grin and his eyes filled with nothing but all the love in the world. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said softly in his raspy morning voice, giving her a kiss on her head before asking, “what’s gotten you so excited this morning?”

“You have no idea what I dreamed about last night!” She exclaimed and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Oh? Lemme guess, did you dream about me?” You joked, booping her nose with your pointer finger, earning a small giggle from her.

“Yes, mommy, you were a princess in my dream! Can you believe that?” Her answer came as a shock to you since you weren’t expecting her dream to include anyone else besides Disney princesses and magical creatures. She continued to narrate the events of her dreams, her eyes sparkling with joy as she told you about herself being a fairy that could make pretty goens for anyone with just a swing of her wand. “You were so pretty in the dress that I made for you that a prince fell in love with you and you both lived happily ever after!” She stared dreamily into the air as she recalled the ending of her dream.

“Was I the knight in shining armor in your dream, little one?” Jonah asked but she shook her head which made his face fall in mock disappointment and his lips formed a little pout. She patted his arms as if to comfort him so when she opened her mouth to speak again, you both had expected her to say something comforting to cheer him up.

But she, apparently, had other plans in mind.

“The prince was too handsome to be you, daddy,” she said innocently, his eyes widening in shock as he fully processed the words that left his beloved daughter’s mouth. You put a hand over your mouth in attempt to smother your laughter but failing terribly once your daughter turned to you and asked you cluelessly if she had said anything wrong because Jonah had turned to the opposite side so that his back was facing her, not only offended by the fact that his own daughter technically called him ugly, but also the fact that his girlfriend married a stupid prince in her dream.

“Daddy, are you mad at me?” She asked, tugging on his shirt but receiving no answers from him in return.

“Daddy just needs some hugs and kisses,” you whispered into her ear once your laughter died down. “So why don’t we go give him some?” You asked, in which she responded with a nod before climbing to his side of the bed, throwing her arms over him and hugging him tight like a koala. Jonah tried his best to not give in to her clinginess or the adorable puppy dog-eyes that she was giving him, but he failed miserably the moment you joined in the hug from behind and both of you started to pepper his face with kisses simultaneously.

He finally caved in, bursting into a fit of laughter as the ticklish sensation on his face soon became too much for him to handle. “Stop,” he said breathlessly through his laughter, shifting his body so he was now laying flat on his back, pulling both of you close by his arms, one of you laying on each side. The happiness that he felt right then and there was so immense that it was impossible for him to put into words. Fooling around and having fun with two of his favorite girls in the entire universe were few of the many moments in his life he would cherish forever.

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Your daughter asked in fear of being unforgiven by her father whom she loved so dearly.

“Don’t be silly—you know it’s impossible for me to stay mad at you, my little ball of sunshine,” he patted her head gently and she heaved a sigh of relief at his words. “Since today is a weekend, why don’t we go get some ice cream and a fairy costume too in honor your amazing dream?” She perked up right away at his suggestion. “What do you think?”

“It depends if the fairy costume comes with a fairy wand. If it does, then yes it’s a great plan!”

“Even if it doesn’t, I’m going to buy you one anyways,” Jonah said matter-of-factly. You smiled to yourself as you watched the cute interaction between your boyfriend and your child.

“But you must buy mommy a pretty dress too!” Your little girl requested and of course, what she says always goes because Jonah never had the heart to say no to her. Plus, he would kill to see you in a new dress, although it’d probably end up on the bedroom floor right after you put it on.

“Yes, yes, sweetheart,” he kissed her once again before letting her hop down the bed. “So go brush your teeth now and we’ll have breakfast at home before we leave.”

“Thanks daddy, you’re the best!” With that, she ran out of the room before reappearing at the door again shortly. “Oh, and daddy?”

“Hmm?” Jonah looked at her with a raised brow.

“You are the most handsome person in the world, even more handsome than the prince in my dreams.”

She scurried away before Jonah could react. Let’s just say the smile didn’t leave his face for the rest of the day, even when his little ball of sunshine threw a huge temper tantrum and knocked over her entire platter of food on purpose during their dinner in a fancy restaurant.

Bonus:

“You spoil her too much, love,” you said to him after you put your little devil to sleep. You joined him on the living room couch to watch a movie before bed, snuggling into him.

He merely smiled. “I think I spoil you quite a lot too, dear,” he commented, lacing his fingers through yours, his gaze fixated onto the tv.

“Really? Because it doesn’t seem like it.” You watched him place the tv remote on the coffee table before turning his attention towards you.

“Hmmm....why don’t,” he leant in closer so his lips was near to your ear. His breath alone sent shivers up your spine and when he continued speaking, you swore you forgot how to breathe. “Why don’t you put on the pretty little dress that I bought you today if you wish see how much I can spoil you.”

Finally, here’s the exact sentence you were waiting for.

“Who says that I’m not wearing it now?” You took off the hoodie and kicked off the shorts that you were wearing, to reveal the golden silk nightgown underneath that was so short that it barely covered your butt yet it accentuated all your curves perfectly.

“Fucking hell, baby,” was the last thing he said before pinning you down onto the couch.

[cvriolanus]

terrible thing | caliban imagine

a/n: hiii !! i’m finally posting part two of ‘pretty thing’, if you haven’t read pretty thing yet, you can find it here—although, they could technically be read separately. thank you all so so much for the support and being so incredibly kind and patient with me. i really wanted to make this as good as possible, and i’m a sucker for details lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy and happy reading! <3 as always, your feedback is deeply appreciated and motivates me to continue writing.

plot: caliban visits you in your bedroom, promising you a night that you definitely won’t forget.

warnings: based on the song ‘terrible thing’ by AG. smut!!!!! fem!reader, cocky caliban, soft caliban??

˚✧₊♡⁎⁺˳.•

“Are you sure you can’t stay? My aunties won’t mind, they love having you here,” Sabrina commented, walking you to the door. You smiled, shaking your head fondly. “No, I’m sorry... my parents need me home, they want to talk to me about something important,” you lied. “I promise to come over tomorrow after school if you want?”

Sabrina beamed, giving you a hug before opening the door for you, leaning against it. “Sounds great. Just be careful getting home, it is pretty late.” You nodded, promising your best friend that you would be careful, blowing her a kiss as you walked down the steps of her home.

You walked home in silence, the cool evening air nipping at the bare skin on your legs, since the only thing you were wearing was a black skirt with lacy stockings underneath and a cropped, pink sweater. Luckily for you, your house was only ten minutes away from Sabrina’s, making it easy for you to travel.

Once you got to your house, you noticed that the lights were turned off, signaling that your parents were still away on their business trip. It was almost midnight, indicating that you were about to have a special visitor soon. Your body trembled with excitement, just thinking back to earlier in the day, with the Prince of Hell having you pinned against an entire bookshelf, almost completely ravishing you.

You didn’t know how he would show up, you didn’t even know how he knew where you lived. If you were being honest with yourself, no matter how beautiful he was—it was a bit creepy knowing that he knew your address. With a tired sigh, you walked into your house, locking the door behind you before going upstairs to your bedroom.

You let a silent yawn escape you, opening the door to your bedroom, a frown making its way on your face as you noticed your bedside lamp was on. You swiftly shut the door, leaning your back against it, scanning your bedroom carefully. “Hello?” you whispered, feeling your pulse begin to increase.

With a shaky breath, you took a step forward, biting down on your lower lip. “C-Caliban?” you asked, wondering if he was just messing around. You honestly hoped that it was him, you couldn’t imagine what you’d do if it wasn’t. You made a noise of frustration when nobody answered, walking towards your bed and falling down on it dramatically. You looked at the clock, seeing that there was only a minute left before midnight, your mind racing with thoughts about the handsome demonic Prince.

Letting your eyes flutter shut, you laid sprawled out, thinking of Caliban’s lips on your own. Without thinking, you trailed a hand down your chest, going further down until you started playing with the short hem of your shirt. Biting your lip, you cautiously moved your hand underneath your skirt, rubbing along your panties.

You could already feel heat pooling in your belly, the thought of Caliban fresh in your mind and the events that transpired today. No matter how wrong it was—you wanted him. You started rubbing your clit through your panties, pressing harder at times and then going softer, teasing yourself.

“Starting without me?”

You gasped, eyes shooting open and mouth slightly parted in disbelief, sitting up. He actually came. “W-What...?” you asked, feigning innocence. Caliban chuckled, standing at the end of your bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black, loose pants. ”Acting coy, hmm?”

Your cheeks heated up, his eyes watching your face burn in embarrassment. “Don’t stop on my account, darling,” Caliban said, waving a hand at you casually, signaling for you to continue. “Please, continue your little show. I was enjoying it very much.”

Your breathing seemed to stop at his words, your hands beginning to grow clammy. You searched his eyes for confirmation, watching a smirk spread across his perfectly shaped lips. “You’d do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?” he cooed, coming around the bed and sitting down so that you were now breathing the same air. “Go on,” he whispered, one of his hands closest to you curling around your own, before going back underneath your skirt, landing right on your cunt.

Your eyes remained locked with his as you hesitatingly cupped your cunt, swallowing nervously. Caliban continued to watch your face, trailing his hand to the inner of your thigh, tracing random patterns with his fingertips, causing goosebumps to rise across your legs. You started rubbing yourself again, your stomach swarming with butterflies. A tiny moan escaped you once you started circling your clit once more, picking up speed by the second. “Ooh,” you sigh, feeling Caliban’s large hand wrap around your thigh, kneading the flesh.

Your eyes grew heavy, but you didn’t once look away. Caliban’s face remained blank, watching you with eyes full of lust. “K-Kiss me?” you asked, praying that he wouldn’t make fun of you for asking for such a silly request. Without answering, Caliban used his free hand to cup your cheek gently, running his thumb over your jaw while examining you thoughtfully. “Beautiful.”

Caliban leaned down slightly to meet your lips, making your world grow smaller and smaller, the only people now existing were him and you. You kissed him eagerly, your tongue swiping over his bottom lip begging him for something, for anything. Caliban sucked on your tongue, making you whimper against his mouth. Your teeth clashed and your tongues slid against each other sensually and everything was perfect.

“Let me fuck you,” Caliban begged, his voice sounding strained, his hand that was gripping your thigh now batting your hand away, before immediately resuming to touching your heated cunt. Your juices soaked through your panties, the pleasure now suffocating and Caliban had barely even touched you properly.

“Yes,” you cried. “Please, fuck me—Caliban.” Caliban resumed kissing you as if his life depended on it, rubbing your clit through your thin, satin panties. Caliban didn’t hesitate, simply pulling away for a second and moving to remove your cropped sweater, before bending down to press heated kisses along your collarbones, his free hand moving to cup your breast, making you release tiny moans as your head tipped back. Caliban pulled his hand away from your cunt, making you whine at the loss.

Caliban wasn’t finished, he simply removed your bra with deft fingers, before throwing the bra behind him carelessly. Your breathing was picking up, everything happening so fast. Caliban admired your breasts, making you flush. “Lie down.”

You instantly laid back down, looking up at the Prince with big, doe eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you murmured, feeling no shame. The Prince of Hell smiled, showing of his perfectly white teeth. Caliban immediately went to work on unzipping his pants, pushing them down and kicking them off, before standing in front of you, proudly naked. Caliban stroked his half hard cock, his eyes locked with yours, lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily.

“Tell me what you want.”

You stared up at him for a second, biting your lip. “You Caliban—I just want you. Please.”

Caliban’s head tilted to the side, his hair falling so that it was covering half of his face. “Pretty thing, I’ll give you everything you want, you need just ask.” Caliban crawled on the bed, shifting his weight to not crush you, before sitting between your legs. Caliban trailed a hand up your thigh, pushing up your skirt and looking down at your heat, noticing the large patch of arousal soaking your panties.

“Is all this because of me?” Caliban wondered aloud, a small smirk playing at his lips. You whimpered lowly in your throat, spreading your legs wider without knowledge. Caliban made a cooing noise, before reaching down to move aside your panties, pushing two long, slender fingers inside of you without warning, pumping easily from how soaked you were. “Oh!” you gasped. “Please please please,” you babbled, “More.”

Caliban raised a curious eyebrow, “You want more? Are you sure you’re deserving of more? You did intentionally push me away this afternoon,” Caliban scowled you, obviously annoyed at you cockblocking him, your memories playing freshly back to your time together in Hell’s library. Tears prickled your eyes, your hand reaching down to grab ahold of his free hand, the one resting on your thigh. You intertwined your fingers with his, a pout on your raw lips from constantly biting them.

“Please, Caliban—I’ll do anything.”

Caliban paused his movements, his fingers resting inside of you, his face blank. A pause. And then, “Now where have I heard that before...” Caliban drawled, his eyes darkening angrily. Caliban started pumping his two fingers into you again punishingly, a cry escaping your lips. The dark Prince quickly added a third, scissoring your cunt open. “You want my cock? Look at you, you’re practically gushing for me,” he hissed, his thumb moving up to start rubbing your clit. You nodded dumbly, “Yes!”

“Beg for it.”

Caliban’s voice startled you, your mouth gaping. “What?” you asked, clearly confused.

“You heard me, sweetheart. Beg. For. It.”

“Caliban I—I don’t...”

Caliban made a agitated noise low in his throat, before he grabbed you by the hips, spinning you over so that you landed on your hands and knees. You let out a yelp, not expecting the changing of positions, Caliban grabbed the hem of your skirt and panties, yanking them down your thighs, leaving you bare and throbbing for his touch.

“Caliban!” you squealed, rubbing your thighs together as you tried to get more friction. “What do you want?” he asked teasingly, now leaning over so that his chest was pressed against your back. “Tell me,” he whispered in your ear, leaving kisses along the back of your shoulders. “I want... I want you to fuck me—hard.”

Caliban purred lowly in his throat, feeling pleased. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.” Caliban guided the head of his cock towards your tiny hole, nudging the head inside and just waiting. His ears perked up at the breathy moans escaping you, your head hanging down in defeat, “More.”

Caliban instantly pushed further inside, feeling your velvety walls clench and spasm around his cock, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. “Feels so good,” he said. You whined, rolling your head to the side, feeling his breath hit your neck as he nuzzled it, trailing his lips over the soft skin underneath your ear.

He pushed the rest of the way until you were fully seated on his aching cock, pausing to let you adjust to his length. You were fairly certain that there was air somewhere in your bedroom, but for some reason, you could barely breathe. Caliban was long and thick, you were surely going to bleed, no doubt.

“Are you alright?” Caliban whispered into your ear, waiting for confirmation from you that he could move. “Yes,” you told him, shyly. “You can move.”

Caliban didn’t waste any time, before retracting his hips until only the head of his cock rested between your folds, then thrusting back inside. You shouted, feeling Caliban’s hands take ahold of your hips, digging his fingers into your sides. “You’re mine,” he hissed, fucking into you urgently. “Say it,” he demanded, impatient.

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, feeling Caliban push your head down to press your face against the bed, letting out muffled moans.

Caliban fucked you at a fast pace, his thighs flexing as he dug his blunt fingernails into your hips, the head of his cock hitting something inside of you that had you seeing stars. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped, your hands curling into your bedsheets, needing to hold on to something for leverage. Caliban continued to fuck you, hitting the spot inside you that caused your body to tremble, making the band in your belly tighten, close to coming.

“Oh, please—make me come,” you begged, tears brimming in your eyes, feeling your insides tear as Caliban fucked you merciless, your knees shaking. You were going to be sore in the morning, that’s for damn sure.

Caliban let out a loud moan suddenly, feeling your walls squeeze his cock, signaling your oncoming orgasm. The demon Prince reached down with one hand, still holding on to your hip to steady himself from pounding your insides, pressing two fingers against your clit, rubbing furiously.

“Oh God,” you cried, feeling your walls tighten around Caliban, causing his nostrils to flare, feeling his own orgasm making its way closer and closer. “Come for me,” Caliban growled, pinching your clit and rolling the tiny bud between his skilled fingers.

Caliban thrusted two more times, before a high pitched scream escaped you, tears falling down your flushed cheeks. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the band in your belly snapping and pleasurable waves washed over you, hitting all your nerves as you came on Caliban’s cock, milking him. Not a second later, as your body twitched through your orgasm, Caliban came to a stop inside you, his mouth dropping open in a silent moan, coming inside of you in spurts, staining your insides.

Caliban collapsed on top of you, nearly crushing you except he landed on his forearms, laying the side of his face against your damp back, trying to catch his breath. “Marry me,” Caliban asked. In your delusional, fucked-out state, you giggled, replying a soft, “Okay.”

Caliban let out a shaky laugh, “Okay.”

Caliban kissed your back, before rolling over next to you, letting you finally lay down comfortably, curling up into his side. Caliban wrapped a possessive arm around you, pulling you so that you could rest your head on his chest.

“Will you stay?” you asked quietly, the moonlight shining through your white curtains. “Do you want me to?” Caliban asked, rubbing his fingers softly down your arm, tickling you.

You were exhausted, your insides quivering with aftershocks. “Yes,” you spoke, honestly.

Caliban hummed, turning on his side so he could watch your sleepy face, eyes fluttering and trying to stay awake. “Mine,” Caliban whispered into the night, pressing a delicate kiss against your forehead.

You spoke no more.

fin

taglist: @peachesandknifes​ @lillycarlyn​

[thecasperanfamily]

Ficlet with Archie getting into a fight with the neighbour's dog to protect Bebe Lin?

The gratingly cheerful ringing of the doorbell slammed into Douxie’s ears and bounced around in his skull like a hyperactive gnome. He snorted as his head jerked up off of his pillow, crusty eyes blinking owlishly against the morning light. He pawed at his nightstand for his phone. 9:14 am. He groaned as he dropped the device back onto the nightstand.

“No civilized human being should be going around banging down doors at this ungodly hour...” he grumbled, pulling himself out of bed and heading for the front door with all the grace and energy of a zombie emerging from its tomb. He quickly changed his mind on the matter when he discovered that the person banging down his door was Claire Nuñez, and that she was holding a casserole dish.

“Hi, Teach!” she beamed. “Sorry, it’s a little early. Jim and I were going to have brunch in the park, and since your place is kind of on my way, I thought I’d drop off these enchiladas. Mama and I made them for you. Figured you probably don’t have much time to cook with a baby around.” It was at this point that she finally noticed his disheveled appearance. “...Did I wake you up?”

“No, no, I’ve been up for hours!” Douxie lied. “Come on in.” He stepped aside to let her in, and took the dish from her. The brightly-patterned kitchen towel wrapped around it did very little to conceal the heavenly smell of its contents. “...You’re an angel, Ms. Nuñez,” he sighed. “And your mum, too. I’ve just recently discovered a man can only subsist on frozen lasagna alone for so long before he starts losing his sense of taste.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long,” Claire replied, settling down on the sofa while Douxie took the enchiladas to the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything?” he called. “I was just going to brew myself a cuppa.”

“Tea would be great, thank you. I won’t stay too long. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Probably wise,” Douxie admitted. There were a few minutes of comfortable silence as the wizard bustled about, bringing the water to a boil and setting up the tea tray. He brought it out to the living room and, after shoving a plush toy off of the coffee table with his foot, set the tray down with a flourish. He then immediately collapsed into the nearest armchair, thoroughly exhausted.

“It’s been a week now,” Claire began, politely ignoring the way Douxie was gulping his tea like his life depended on it. “How’s everything going with Samuel?”

“So far so good,” he answered, emerging from his cup with a sigh of relief. “We’ve taken to calling him Little Merlin--Zoe made us shorten it to Lin. He was uneasy the first few days, but he seems happy now.”

“What about his powers?”

“Highly unusual, to be sure,” Douxie mused, staring into his teacup thoughtfully. “But nothing dangerous so far. I can understand why his fosters were scared, though. It’s unsettling even for me. I’ve never heard of magic surfacing at such a young age, and when he’s upset, it’s like the whole room goes cold all of a sudden.”

“Where is he now?”

Douxie choked on his tea and bolted out of his chair. “Oh gods I don’t even know--!”

“He is with Archie in my garden,” a soft voice interrupted. Nari had evidently crept inside while they were conversing, and was now helping herself to one of the biscuits on the tray. She gave Claire a polite nod while Douxie fell back into his chair with a groan. “He awoke quite early this morning. Archie and I thought it would be best if we looked after him, since you were up so late last night.”

“Archie knows how to babysit?” Claire put in.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Douxie answered. “I mean, he did practically raise me, but I wasn’t expecting him to take to a baby this much. I can hardly tear him away from Lin’s side.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet, though!” Claire gushed. “I mean, I never would have guessed--” She stopped short, distracted by a movement outside the front window. Douxie looked up from the biscuit he was dunking and followed her line of sight. A cloud of golden-brown fluff was shuffling around the front yard, nose to the ground and tail swishing happily from side to side.

“Oh, that’s Cooper, the neighbor’s dog. He keeps getting out of his yard, but nobody really minds because he’s the sweetest thing on four legs. No offense to Archie.”

“He has a gentle soul,” Nari agreed, brushing biscuit crumbs off of her shirt. “I have spoken to him a few times. He reminds me quite a bit of Douxie. They have similar values.” She smiled coyly at the sound of Douxie’s indignant sputter.

“Yeah, I can see the resemblance,” Claire snickered. Cooper went out of sight around the side of the house, and the conversation resumed. “Do you have any potential guardians for Lin in mind, or are you still looking?”

“I have one or two old wizarding friends I can try,” Douxie said. “But getting their current contact information is a bit of a hassle. And anyways, right now I think the most important thing is figuring out exactly what Lin is and why his magic is manifesting like this. I was thinking about calling Blinky, ask him if he’s read anything about--” The discussion was once again stopped short, this time by ruckus coming from the back yard--a cacophony of plaintive yelps and draconic snarls. Douxie, Nari, and Claire all bolted out of their seats and raced for the back door. Douxie wrenched it open and dove outside, magic already gathering in his palms, only to find Lin sitting perfectly safe in a patch of clover, looking very confused but otherwise unharmed.

Archie, on the other hand, was about as far from calm as Douxie had ever seen him. His back was arched, spines standing up straight and sharp, the fur on his tail puffed out like a bottlebrush. He was glaring daggers at Cooper, who was curled against the back of the house, quivering and whimpering and rubbing at his snout with one of his paws.

“Archie, what the hell?!” Douxie burst out, trying to scoop his Familiar up before he caused any more damage.

“Unhand me at once!” the cat-dragon yowled. “If it wasn’t for me, your human kitten would have been swallowed by this brute!”

“He's a golden retriever, Arch! The only things he wants to swallow are dog treats and tennis balls!” Douxie shouted, struggling to hold the writhing mass of black fur and scales in his arms. Lin, obviously upset by the commotion, started to cry. Claire inhaled sharply. Douxie hadn't been exaggerating. She could feel the weight of Lin’s unease pressing down on her. Nari slipped around Douxie and approached Cooper, taking his face between her hands and whispering words of healing and reassurance. Archie finally stopped flailing and settled for simply glaring at the dog while hanging upside-down in Douxie’s grasp. Lin, becoming more upset the longer he was ignored, wailed all the louder.

“Claire, could you--?” Douxie grunted, unwilling to risk setting Archie down.

“Yeah, I got him.” The young witch scooped Lin up in her arms and bounced him gently. He settled down almost at once, staring up at Claire with large, curious eyes. “Hi there, Lin,” she cooed. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“As far as first meetings go, I feel like that could’ve been a bit smoother,” Douxie grumbled. Archie kicked him in the chin with his back paw.

“Cooper did not suffer any grave injuries, but he does wish to go home now,” Nari reported.

“Good. And don’t come back,” Archie snarled.

“Your instincts are admirable, Archie, but they are misplaced,” Nari replied as she coaxed Cooper away from the wall and ushered him on his way. He eyed Archie for a moment, then bolted away, tail tucked between his legs.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” the Familiar spat. “You can’t trust dogs.”

“Arch, we haven’t been chased by any dogs since the 1910s,” Douxie groaned. “You need to lighten up.”

“...Fine. Now put me down.” Douxie dropped him unceremoniously, and he landed on the grass with a draconic snort. He shifted back into his feline form and curled around Claire’s legs, beaming up at the baby in her arms proudly. A very long and awkward silence followed.

“Uh...” Claire glanced nervously between Archie, Lin, and Douxie, before finally landing on Nari, who gave her an encouraging nod. “...A-anybody want some enchiladas?”

Thanks so much for reading! ✨

[aswallowssong]

Second Child, Restless Child

Chapter 9 - The Devil Whispered Lies

@valkyrie-5583

Read on AO3

If I told y'all I got engaged and that's why this chapter is literally a billion years late, would that make it better??

Jokes aside (not really a joke, I did get engaged, I just hid it in the notes a few weeks ago) spring break is one week away for this teacher, and my goal is to write a whole bunch so I can not have to post chapters like... 2 months apart.

Let me know what you think of this one!! Have a lovely day!!

Continuation of chapter 8 - Heaven Knows How Hard I Tried. The Keystone Killer has given Kit a lot to think about; including some things she wasn't quite counting on.

Kit wasn’t quite listening when they walked back into the precinct. Her conversation with JJ earlier in the day had helped. If JJ had met pushback, but now she was allowed to be a full part of the BAU team, she should stand up for herself. The director himself saw all of her reports, she could tell Ramos she disagreed with him. Especially if, for the time being, her work was good enough for the literal director of the whole FBI.

But her talk with Hotch outside of Harbin’s house hadn’t done her a lot of good. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the last hour, she still hadn’t slept since Friday night, and it was actively Sunday. 

What brought her back to reality was Morgan’s voice, deep and steady at the front of their group. It caught her up to the present so quickly she almost stopped short, which would have sent Hotch right into her.

“Well, that's got to be a first. A killer actually leading us to another killer.”

“Come on,” Gideon said from further back, “we all know they make the best profilers. They admire each other's work.”

“Ya, but usually from afar,” Elle said as they spilled into the conference room.

Kit didn’t even let herself imagine sitting down. There was no way she would be able to stay awake when she had nothing of value to add. At this point, she was waiting to get back on the jet and back to her apartment. The image of Claudia was twisting in her mind, and she couldn’t help the desperate need she had to see Monty face to face.

Hotch didn’t let her stay in her head for very long. “At least we got Harbin off the street. All right, let's review. What do we know about the Keystone Killer?”

He’s killing women at an alarming rate.

“Well, we know that he's not dead or in jail,” Elle offered.

Gideon continued. “Enjoys taunting the game.”

“Ya,” Morgan agreed easily. “He's in complete control.”

Reid was quick to add on, statistics rattling from him easier than Kit was even keeping her eyes open. “He strangled seven women in the 1980's, stopped for eighteen years, and then began again suffocating them. Ten percent of all violent crimes are caused by strangulation, it only takes eleven pounds of pressure to fully incapacitate your victim and if you hang on for at least fifty seconds, they will never recover.”

“Yeah,” Kit said, stopping short once she’d realized the words had come from her mouth, not someone else’s. Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she took a moment before she voiced the fact her brain had produced for her, however reluctantly. “It’s one of the most lethal forms of violence. Victims can be unconscious in a matter of ten seconds.”

Hotch shook his head, confusion pushing from his before he said, “When you suffocate someone you actually have less control over their death. It's actually more passive because the killer doesn't feel the life leaving the body.”

“He's changed almost everything that he does,” Elle said. She was lost, mild annoyance and confusions coming off her in waves. Elle had joined the team just as JJ did, and Kit wondered if she ever felt as completely baffled as she herself felt.

In that moment, it felt like the answer could be yes, and that was comforting.

Gideon took over then, speaking to them as a whole in a series of questions. “Why why why why? What? I mean, what's he getting out of this new M. O.? Where's his payoff? You got Carla Bromwell, she sustains a significant head injury. Blitz attacks suggest disorganization, no self-confidence. This is a guy who walks into seven victims' homes prior to this. There was no forced entry at any of the scenes. Where's the loss of confidence?”

There was a beat of silence, and she really hoped anyone had any idea. It was moments like these that made Kit feel the most out of her element. She had no idea why the Keystone Killer would want to kill anyone anyway, how could she know why he would change his methods?

“He would never change the way he kills by choice,” Ryan said, breaking the silence.

“What?” 

Ryan spoke again, confident in a way the rest of the team lacked. “We've been operating under the assumption that he purposely changed his M. O.”

It was like something physically snapped into place. Kit looked around as everyone was suddenly much more engaged. 

“You're saying he changed because he had to change?” Gideon asked.

“He knocked her unconscious. And it wasn't to scare.”

Elle seemed to be catching on, and Kit wished selfishly she wasn’t. “Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake.”

Ryan nodded. “He could be incapacitated.”

Gideon latched back on. “At least partially.”

“Maybe an injury.” 

“Or a stroke,” Hotch added, and Gideon started nodding. “Either way you're gonna have to have medical records. Agreed?”

It took her more than a few seconds to notice that no one had said anything else, and she looked over at Gideon, who was looking directly at her.

Why is he looking at me? He never looks at me? We have a spoken rule to not look at one another during cases so why is he looking right at me?

“Colghain?” he said, and she shook her head. He most certainly was looking at her for an answer, and everyone else had gone quiet so she could answer.

“Yeah.” She said, and she saw Ryan raise an eyebrow in annoyance before she stumbled over herself to continue her answer. “Yeah, yes, sorry. Yes. There would be injury reports, charts, notes, scripts. It’s a lot of records, depending on who your doctor is and what hospital you’re at.”

There was another pause before they were all nodding, taking in what she’d said and running with it.

Morgan was first to speak. “Okay, so what are we talking about? This had to have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia?”

Gideon nodded, first at Kit, and then to Morgan. “Somebody who fits the rest of the profile.”

“It's a lot of hospital records,” Reid said, also looking towards Kit, who nodded her affirmation. “There’s hoards of people going into ERs every day for exactly those sorts of things. It’ll be a huge pool.”

He smiled at her, and she found herself taken a bit aback, but returned his grin with a shy one of her own.

“Call our girl Friday,” Gideon said, directed to Morgan, and as the flurry of movement and new hope danced through the room, she found herself feeling much less tired than she did before.

She’d been helpful. Gideon had known she was an expert about something and asked for her agreement and input before simply inserting a thought. 

Her feelings were incredibly jumbled as she stood there, waiting for directions. Gideon’s affirmation made her feel better than she thought it would, considering they didn’t usually talk if not to argue. JJ’s conversation still lingered in the back of her mind, and she wanted to talk to Ramos. If JJ could stand up to the coms department and get what she wanted, why couldn’t she stand up to Ramos?

But Claudia filled the leftover space in her consciousness, and she didn’t know if she could fight for more time with the BAU, or to try to be more fully integrated, or whatever it was that she actually wanted if the cases were going to stay with her.

To scare her. To make her feel like she needed to know that her sisters were alright, even though there was no way to do that while knees deep in a case. 

What do you even want, Kody? What do you want?

She didn’t have an answer for herself.

-----

Kit stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the precinct and splashed another cupful of water onto her face, holding her cheeks in her hands a moment before looking up at her reflection. 

You look exhausted.

Monty’s voice, as always, chided her. Sometimes she wished the voice of her overinvolved consciousness was her brother Al instead. Alaska couldn’t be bothered over things like that. His biggest qualm in life was the fact that his name was Alaska, and it had been quickly remedied by Ari telling him he could just go by Alex at school. 

You’ve got bigger problems than that. You’re having a moment in a police precinct in Philly while the rest of your team waits on a comprehensive file to be faxed. 

A feeling of dread shot through her chest at the realization that Monty didn’t even know she was gone. She’d been so tired and so incredibly thrown by Garcia’s text, and then Hotch’s insistence that she was on the jet that she hadn’t thought to walk down and tell Ari she was leaving. He’d been on the clinic floor; out of sight, out of mind. Then she was on the jet, and then at the crime scene. 

She hadn’t even sent a text. 

Hell, she hadn’t even really slept since then. Her time in the jet and her few minutes in the car were nowhere near what she needed, and with all the feelings and thoughts she had flying around her head, she was surprised she hadn’t crashed. She was definitely feeling “Big Feelings,” and she didn’t have time for it.

Ari and Monty always helped the big feelings. They had to be wondering where she was. Why hadn’t they called her? Or texted? They had to be worried. Girls didn’t just go missing in the middle of the day.

But they do. And worse, they’re murdered too. Right out of nowhere for no reason at all. People are sick, Kody. They kill for pleasure. They kidnap for pleasure. They’ll take anyone at any time. 

She had her phone out and dialed in record time.

“Penelope’s hotline for all things truth. Speak and know.”

“Garcia.” She swiped at her eyes. When had she started crying? “I need a favor.”

“Oh, Kit, hey.” Her voice was as sunny as always. “I’ve got that file almost through, the medical was-”

“It’s not about the case.”

There was silence on the other line for a moment. “Oh?”

“If I gave you the first and last name, could you trace a cell phone?”

“A cell phone? As long as it’s registered to the same name, yeah, I can. Why?”

“Virginia.” She said. “Virginia Colghain.”

She didn’t know why she picked Ginny. Something inside her said that Seese, George, and Lina would be at home with their mam. Ginny lived in the city, and Kit couldn’t call her. 

Ginny didn’t know she was in the field. Ginny didn’t even know she’d been paired with the BAU.

“Where should it be? Just so I know what I’m looking for.”

“Probably the US Attorney's office.”

“Which branch?”

“The one in the district. On fourth street.”

Garcia hummed as she typed, the clicking of her keystrokes halting as she said, “Wait. Wait, Colghain?”

Kit bit her lip. She was sort of hoping Garcia wouldn’t notice. 

Which is stupid, because of course she’d notice.

“Yes.”

“Virginia Colghain?”

“Yes, Garcia, can you track it or not?” Kit glanced at herself in the mirror, letting her reflection ground her. She tugged at one braid, and then the other with her free hand before wiping at her eyes again.

The clicking started again before Garcia said, “Virginia Colghain’s phone is, in fact, inside the US Attorney’s office on fourth street.”

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. While it wasn’t proof that Ginny was okay, it certainly helped Kit’s nerves. “Thanks, Penelope. Sorry about that.”

“Sure, my sweet clover. But, why don’t you just call her and ask where she is? I’m going to assume that’s one of your many many siblings.”

Because I haven’t quite told her I’m working with the BAU now, or going in the field again, and I’m not ready to have that conversation with her just yet, considering no one knows but Ari and Monty.

“I don’t want to interrupt her at work, I just needed to know she was okay.”

Garcia was quiet again before saying, “You know, we’ll get him. My system has faxed almost all the papers now, and then you can go bring him in.”

Kit took a breath, glancing again at the reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Had she always looked so sad?

“Thanks, Pen,” she said quietly. “I, um. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go fight crime, clover. But, hey,” Penelope’s voice took on a different quality. A serious one. “You and I should talk when you get back.”

She sighed, but nodded. “Okay… bye, Penelope.”

Kit hung up the phone.

Ginny was fine. She knew that it was a given, and she probably just looked like a crazy, paranoid moron, but she also knew deep down that Penelope didn’t care. Maybe she understood.

Before she could convince herself otherwise she hit the first position speed dial, pacing a bit in front of the sinks as it rang.

“Dia dhuit?” Came Monty’s groggy, listless voice over the line, and Kit nearly burst into tears at the combination of her sister’s voice, her real voice, and their mother tongue.

“Monty.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you? Thought you were in the living room, but I only hear you on the phone.”

Kit wiped at a stray tear trailing down her cheek. There was no way she was keeping it together when she finally got home.

Monty’s accented Irish was thicker than it normally was. Her voice was lower too, telling of the fact that she quite possibly woke her twin up. She bit back a bit of guilt, her own voice launching into a language just for them.

“I’m sorry, I woke you, didn't I?”

“It’s alright, I’ll go back when we’re done. Where are you?”

“Are you feeling any better?” She was stalling. “When was the last time you took-”

“Dakota.” Kit stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine.”

“But why are you crying?”

Damn it.

She tried to keep any tremor out of her voice, but she knew Monty would always be able to tell. “I’m not.”

“Why are you calling me, crying-”

Kit sighed, her pacing stopping dead in its tracks as she tried to keep herself together. “Everything is okay. I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Everyone is fine. I needed to hear your voice.”

The coughing across the line was grating, and then, “Kody, where are you? What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“I…” Kit started, steadying herself with a hand on the counter. “We’re in Pennsylvania.” 

“You’re what?” 

“It’s fine, I had to leave overnight. We’re on a case.”

“You didn’t call,” Monty said, obviously upset. “You didn’t even send a text. Ari was at the bureau last night, too, why-” She cut herself off to cough, the line being muffled as Monty pulled away from the speaker.

Kit ran her hand down her face. This wasn’t the conversation she needed to be having. She should have called Ari. He tended to be a little more level headed when he was upset. 

“Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Monty finally asked, voice much rougher than before. “What if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Kit said, her voice more steady than she felt it should be. “I’m sorry, Mont. I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Why…” Monty trailed for a moment before she said quietly, “Why did you call now?”

Claudia’s face flashed to the front of her mind, and then Monty’s; the reflection of her own staring back at her in the mirror. 

“I needed to hear your voice. I had to know you were alright.”

Another moment of silence passed before Monty asked, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Kit sighed, sniffling quietly before letting out another, deeper sigh. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mont.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, JJ standing on the other side.

“Hey, the whole file finally came through, we’re meeting in the- are you crying?” 

Kit’s head whipped around to look at JJ square, and she hastily wiped under her eyes. “No, I, um. I’ll be right there.”

JJ tilted her head, but nodded and shut the door again. The air between the twins crackled quietly before Kit cleared her throat.

“I have to go. I… hopefully I’ll be home tonight. I’m sorry, Montana. I am.”

“Kody, wait-”

“I love you, Mont, I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t just say those things and then go put yourself in danger! You can’t do that to me! I-”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” The door to the bathroom was pounded on. “Lep! Let’s go!”

Derek.

“Dakota!”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Before Monty could say anything else, Kit snapped her phone shut. 

------

Her leg bounced as she sat in the SUV in between Reid and Elle. She was twisting at the hem of her shirt, and some of the threads had ripped and stretched. It was keeping her from pulling on her hair though, so she didn’t care about that. Ginny could sew it for her when they got back to DC.

If Ginny’s still there. Anyone could grab her at any time. Anyone could-

“Are you okay?” Reid asked quietly, his eyes locked on her fingers as they tugged at the material.

She stilled her hands immediately, feeling the concern dripping from his tone.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just… tired.”

“You could probably sit out if you need to,” he said, not noticing the way her face had started to heat up. Everyone in the SUV was actively pretending they couldn’t hear their conversation, but Kit knew better.

“I don’t need to,” she said quickly. “I just want to get home, so the faster we cuff this creep, the better."

"Because of your sister?"

"What?"

How could he have possibly known what you were thinking about Ginny? Did you say something? Did-

"Your sister's sick, right?"

She stared at him for a moment before it clicked. He wasn't talking about Ginny. Of course he wasn't, the only one that knew about her minor meltdown was Garcia. Monty being sick was common knowledge. 

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. And because he's, you know." She gestured vaguely. "Murdering women."

Elle laughed quietly next to her, nodding as she said, “Right, there’s that. We’ll get him. Right, Gideon?”

“Oh, we’ll get him,” Gideon said, sending more anticipatory energy into the world than usual. Kit didn’t have to think about the implications of that, though, as the SUV came to a halt outside a two story home.

They got out of the van quickly, all thoughts of Monty and going home gone as they strapped into Kevlar vests and double checked their weapons.

“I believe Walter Kern is in Sylvia Gooden's home now,” Gideon said, addressing the five of them and the SWAT captain. “Hotch confirmed he left the community center hours ago, and Kern's car's parked on the next block.”

“I want Walter Kern alive,” Ryan said quickly, and the SWAT captain nodded at his request. “I'll stand by for the word.”

“Reid, Greenaway, I'll call you when we've secured Kern. Morgan, Colghain, you’re with me and Ryan. Okay, let's move out.”

“Yeah,” Elle said, watching them as they walked away, Kit trailing just behind. 

It didn’t feel right to her that she was going and Elle was staying back, but that was one of the reasons she was even on the team.

Or, working with them, at least. There’d been too many conversations surrounding that topic for her to understand her feelings about it.

They crept towards the house, pausing as the SWAT team pried the door open. Gideon led and Kit held the rear, covering and watching to make sure that nothing happened to them. Team or not, they were her responsibility.

They weren’t in the house for very long before they could hear Gooden crying for help on the second floor. Every movement they made was succinct, and within seconds they were in the room.

“Don't move! Don't move!” Gideon yelled, all weapons drawn at Kern as he tried to hold a plastic bag over Gooden’s face.

They scuffled for a moment, Morgan able to knock Kern’s gun out of the way before holding his arms behind his back. “Down on your knees! Down! Don't move!”

Kit held her gun steady, shifting into a position that allowed her to still have a sightline on Kern; at least until he was cuffed. Not that she believed he could get out of Morgan’s hold.

Gideon spoke quickly into the com, letting Reid and Elle know that Gooden was alive, and Kern was secure.

Morgan struggled a bit to keep Kern’s hands together, and Kit didn’t change her aim. “Cuff him, Morgan.”

“Gideon, I need your cuffs, man,” he said over his shoulder.

Gideon didn’t move right away, but Kit didn’t take her eyes off Kern. She couldn’t until she knew he didn’t have any chance of getting away.

“Why don't you do this? I'll take care of her.” Gideon had spoken to Ryan, who had clearly been soothing Gooden until that moment. 

"That's enough. Now get up,” Morgan said, passing him off so Ryan could cuff him. “You got him?”

“Ya, I got him,” Ryan said, and Kit lowered her weapon as she heard the click of the cuffs secure around Kern’s wrists.

“Colghain,” Gideon said, “Some help, please.”

Kit turned quickly, realizing that Sylvia Gooden, who had just been nearly suffocated, was still crying and panicking with flex cuffs around her wrists. 

She wasn’t done yet.

The two steps to the bed were swift, and Gideon stepped aside as she spoke to the traumatized woman. “Hi, my name is Kit. I’m a nurse, and I’m going to check and make sure you’re okay. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Gooden looked up at her for a moment before she nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath before dissolving into hysterics. 

Kit grabbed her hands and squeezed gently, giving the older woman a small smile despite all the crazy going on around them.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”

-----

Kit sat next to Reid on the jet, which was odd, because she normally tried to keep herself as far away from everyone as possible. She’d gotten a very strange read off of Hotch, though, who had secluded himself in the corner she usually would have taken, so she figured the conversation would keep her awake if anything else.

It didn’t stop her from propping a blue notebook open in her lap and tapping at it quietly with her pen. They were laughing at a story Ryan was telling about Gideon that made him seem almost human, and the laughter she shared was genuine. Gideon had stepped aside for her to take the lead with Gooden, which meant he was going to be true to his word when they were in the field. Stay out of each other’s way, and things will be fine. 

She just hoped it would last.

“What goes in that notebook?”

She looked up at Reid’s voice, noticing that while she’d allowed herself to be in her own head for fifteen seconds, everyone had splintered into their own conversations. Elle had even walked away from them, and was now engaged in a quiet conversation with Hotch.

“Hm?”

He nodded down at the blue notebook in her lap. “What goes in there? I’ve only ever seen the red one, and that’s where you write all of our medical information, and things that happen to us medically during cases. Like when I was sick in New Jersey. But that didn’t happen this time, nothing did, and that notebook is blue, and it’s much more worn, and -” He stopped short, frowning. “I’m rambling.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I was waiting for you to be done before I answered your question.”

Reid’s eyes widened a bit, his jaw dropping for just a moment before he seemed to right himself. “Most people don’t wait until I’m done.”

“It’s a skill I picked up in college. It’s hard to help someone if you won’t listen to their entire story.”

“Huh,” he said. He seemed to think on that for a moment before he said, “So, what’s it for?”

She blinked up at him. “Oh.”

She hadn’t thought she’d actually have to answer. She was sort of hoping that he would talk himself in circles until he was on another topic completely. He’d done it a few times over the short time she’d known him.

“Oh?”

“Well, it’s sort of personal,” she settled on.

“Like a journal? A diary?”

If he noticed she was blushing, he didn’t let on. “A little bit, it’s like-” She stopped short as she saw JJ move from her seat towards the coffee machine, and her brain flipped a completely different switch. “Sorry, I need to talk to JJ,” she said, and before he could protest, she’d dropped the notebook on her seat and was across the short length of the plane.

“Hey, JJ,” she said, causing the blonde to turn around and smile. 

“Hey, coffee?”

“No, actually I-” She hadn’t quite thought the rest out. “I um.”

She found her hands grabbing for the ends of her hair, but she stopped herself before she could start tugging. She was far too late on her meds, which were officially out of whack, considering the fact that she hadn’t slept in two days. She wasn’t even sure what day it was.

“Is today Sunday?” She said, which was not at all how she’d intended to start the conversation she wanted to have. 

JJ laughed. “I have no idea. Maybe? When we left it was the middle of the night, so I would need to check my phone.”

“Right,” Kit said, easing a bit and giving a quiet laugh of her own. “I um. Well, I wanted to tell you that I thought about what you said.”

JJ tilted her head, eyebrows pulling together. “What I said?”

“What you said about pushing back.”

“Ah,” JJ said, eyes flashing with recognition. “And?”

“I… Claudia really threw me.”

Her head tilted before she said, “The woman they found under the bed?”

Kit shivered. “Yeah.” She didn’t regard the moment with fondness. 

JJ didn’t seem to notice. She thought for a moment before shrugging. “I heard Morgan telling Gideon that you were incredible with her. That you didn’t leave when EMS got there because she didn’t want you to.”

Kit shook her head quickly, deflecting the praise. “I didn’t really do anything. She just… I don’t think she wanted all those men around her without another woman around.”

“And you were that woman for her.”

Kit stopped for a moment, watching JJ’s eyes soften. She was going to deflect again - insist that she’d done exactly what anyone else would have done, but something stopped her. 

“I want to be here,” she heard herself saying. She hadn’t had time to process it herself, but it seemed she was going to do it outloud, in real time. “I want to be a part of this, but I’m scared. Because there will be more Claudias. And more Sylvias… And more Kerns.” She moved a hand to play with the seam at the hip of her slacks. “And we won’t always get there in time. I won’t always get there in time.”

The two women stood in silence for a moment before JJ reached out and took Kit’s right hand off her braid, squeezing it gently between her own fingers.

“But we’ll always try. And sometimes?” She shrugged. “We win.”

Kit took a deep breath, allowing that thought to fill her senses. Sylvia Gooden was alive. Claudia was alive. Kern lost. 

“I think you should talk to Hotch when we get back. Not now. You look exhausted.”

They both laughed, Kit’s a little lackluster. “It’s that obvious?”

“You’ve got two black eyes.”

“Damn.” Kit shook her head, averting her eyes from JJ’s before saying, “Thank you. For listening and telling me what you knew and for making me feel like I deserve to be here.”

JJ nodded, saying simply, “You do.” She gestured to the coffee machine again. “You sure you don’t want some?”

Kit laughed, shaking her head again. “No, really, I shouldn’t. My body doesn’t know what time it is already, I think that would put me in dangerous territory.”

She stood on the Red Line platform, struggling to keep her eyes open. She pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger, trying anything subtle to get her from point A to point B as quickly as possible. It was already dark, and she didn’t need to fall asleep on the train, or worse, while standing and waiting for the train. 

That would really cap this weekend. Falling asleep on the train, missing your stop, getting abducted…

“Do you have a headache?”

“Ah!” She jumped, turning over her shoulder and swearing loudly. “Reid, what the hell?”

“Sorry!” He said, ducking just a bit, as if he was worried she was going to strike him. “That pressure point is effective in relieving headaches, grounding panic attacks, and quelling nausea. Are you sick?”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not- I know exactly what this pressure point is used for Spencer, what the hell are you doing here? At my train stop? Again? I told you that I don’t-”

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely,” he said quickly, cutting her off before she could really get going. The anxious sincerity flooding off of him stopped her long enough for him to continue. “The odds of being accosted on the Red Line are significantly lower than the Blue, but you’re exhausted, and this case made you nervous, so I just wanted to be sure you…” He slowed, a dark flush rising in his cheeks. “Got home safe. Which I’m sure you can on your own, because your field scores dwarf mine. I, um…”

He had stuttered to a halt.

He’s embarrassed. And he wanted to help you.

She didn’t have time or energy to process the fact that he’d most definitely profiled her. The sentiment was sort of touching.

Sort of, as far as Spencer Reid was concerned. 

“This… isn’t a Gideon thing?”

Reid chuckled quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No. It’s, ah, a me thing. Gideon offered me a ride home, but I said no.”

She tilted her head at him, frowning as the train squealed into the station. “No shit?”

He laughed again, shaking his head and offering a small smile, his cheeks still flushed, but relief in his eyes. “No shit.”

“...Fine. But only because I’m really tired… You know, you could have said all this, or offered, in the bullpen, right? You didn’t have to follow me to the train like a stalker.”

The blush flooded his cheeks again, and he shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. “I didn’t want you to yell at me or something in front of everyone else.”

Her heart sank. 

Look what you’ve done, Kody. You made him anxious to be alone with you because he thinks you’re some crazy person that’s going to fly off the handle.

Well, aren’t you?

“I wouldn’t do that, Spencer,” She said, starting towards the train door. “I appreciate the concern… thanks.”

He looked up, eyes flashing a combination of relief and hesitance. “Oh. Yeah. Ah, yeah, sure.”

They sat down inside the train, Kit immediately leaning her head against the window. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Maybe Reid isn’t so bad. Maybe he’ll stay quiet, or read the whole way and you can actually get a short-

“You know, there’s a staggering amount of germs on the window on a DC train. Approximately 45% of people…”

-----

Spencer stalked away from her door, his long legs making him look somewhat like a baby giraffe as he turned to descend the stairs. He gave a last, incredibly awkward wave.

“See you tomorrow, Dakota,” he said.

She fought back the instinct to groan. “Bye Reid, thanks.”

He grinned as his head slipped below her sight line and she let out a sigh, her entire body seeming to settle into exhaustion. It was late, and dark, and hopefully she would be able to slip into the apartment and deal with her siblings in the morning before she left for work. She’d talk to Monty then, and Ari at the clinic, and everything would be fine.

She’d need to call Ginny, but she could do that in the morning as well. She needed to sleep first. Sleep, and then deal with whatever came.

Her hand fumbled a bit with the key as she tried to fit it correctly into the door, eyes dry and tired and brain scrambled. The residual jittery, anxious feeling of both the case and messing the the time on her medication wasn’t helping her fine motor skills, and she’d nearly resigned to search through her backpack for the flashlight she kept when the doorknob was ripped away from her hand, the door flying open. 

Something hard slammed into her body, arms wrapping around her in a vice grip and knocking the wind out of her.

Instead of words, there were hitching sobs from her attacker. Congested sounding, sad, and overly frustrated, matched with hot tears that were falling onto her shoulder. She took a breath, wrapping her arms around Monty and holding her as close as she could.

“Shh, it’s okay, dair, I’m okay,” she mumbled quietly, feeling her twin’s arms tighten around her. 

“Don't… ever do that,” Monty managed, voice gravely and tearful. “Never, ever.”

“Oi, Mont, what-” Ari turned the corner, making eye contact with Kit over their sister’s shoulder. She watched physical tension release in his shoulders. “Ah. Okay. Mont, deirfiúr, come in and close the door. She’s okay. We’re fine.”

The mixing of languages wrapped around Kit, filling her like a breath she hadn’t taken in days. Monty let go, rubbing furiously at her streaming eyes as she walked back through the door, settling down on their couch and curling herself into a ball.

Ari pulled Kit through the door, looking at Monty and shaking his head. There was no need for the mix now, they could speak as they did among themselves. “Ah, no, get up. Come on. She’s tired, you’re sick. Bed. Now.”

Kit didn’t know how it happened, but they all ended up in Ari’s bed. Granted, it was the biggest. He didn’t share a room, and he was significantly taller than both she and Monty had ever hoped to be. They’d slept all together as children often, and when they were first living in the district on the floor at Ginny’s, they ended up in some sort of pile of limbs the nights they all worked the same shifts. 

Now they rarely did. Six months before when they were back at home after Al needed to get his appendix out. A year before that when their Grandad had died. Before that? She wasn’t sure she remembered. 

Monty’s head rested on her chest, quiet congested snoring coming from her in even breaths. Her face was flushed; from fever or crying, Kit wasn’t sure.

She’d been nearly pulled into Ari’s lap, and now her head rested on his stomach, rising and falling just slightly as he slept. 

Regardless of how incredibly exhausted she was, she forced herself to stay awake and listen. To feel them breathing. To be sure they were there, and alive.

JJ’s words played in her head. 

You do.

She deserved to be with the BAU. She deserved to be there.

Her senses focused back in on her cúpla, and the stress she’d caused them. The fear. The anxiety.

But do you really want to be?

-----

It's me again!

The plan right now is to make each season (year?) a different story, with a different song as the title and lyrics for the chapters. I'm a music person, this is the only way I operate.

If you've heard a song that made you feel feelings, hit me with it!

[fangirl-on-bitches]

Bittersweet

Javier Peña x Female!Reader.

Word Count: 4k approximately.

Summary: You and Javier have a particular way of saying goodbye, so particular you get a surprise when you get back to the US.

Warning: a lot of cursing, a bit of pregnancy shenanigans, a lot of dialogue and a little messy plot and timelines lol.

A/N: Okay, listen before you continue. When I was younger I used to write, maybe not with the best grammar or the best plot, but sure as hell with a lot of creativity. Now I just can’t be that creative to write a complete fic or hc, so if you find this boring or a waste of time I’m really sorry. If you like this, I appreciate it as I really made an effort to finish it (a crapy ending anyways). I’ll be sincere, I had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head so I wrote it. I feel like the scenarios aren’t realistic to what could happen in real life (I feel like they are forced or way too dramatic) I really hope I don’t waste your time. (and yes, I chose the name in honor of Pedro’s role in triple frontier)

-----------------------------------------------------------

You were cursed. Definitely.

You were back in the states, had been for a few weeks, enjoying the warmest sun Miami had to offer along with Connie. You loved relaxing by a peaceful beach after years of chasing after Escobar with your life on the line every hour of every day.

That day you were really excited to wake up and meet Connie to go to the beach, it had been so long since you saw her and little Olivia. You felt at the same time a little uncomfortable with your body that day, bloated and kind of heavy, like there was extra gravity, but the excitement overwhelmed whatever other feeling you might be having.

The beach had some people because it was a nice day, so you lounged along Connie and baby Olivia, eating fried fish with chips as it was beach food. You were laughing at something Connie said about Steve, something about being a pain in the ass, which you agreed with. It was all fun and games until you felt horrible nausea and a pushing need to vomit. Connie, being observant noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” before you could answer you ran to the restaurant’s bathroom, puking whatever food you had that day. Connie came close behind you. She gave you a paper towel so you could wipe your mouth.

“Okay, I might be sick.” you admitted flushing the toilet.

Of course, your mood just plummeted to the ground when you were sitting in a private room in the hospital. Connie couldn’t check you, but she was looking for her friend on-call, meanwhile, you looked as baby Liv (as you called Olivia) slept peacefully by your side.

You didn’t like hospitals. They reminded you of your time in Colombia, and although you weren’t shot, your compañeros might have been shot multiple times. There had been too many close calls and so many lives lost, you just got the creeps whenever you heard a gurney moving.

Soon, Connie came back and carried Olivia outside, leaving you with her friend. She presented herself, and asked routine questions. How are you feeling? What happened? Does something hurt? Is your period late? Did you fall and hit your head? Do you have any diseases? Or do you take any medication?

“I do have nausea and I threw up after eating.” She nodded as she took your blood pressure. Then you started thinking. You were thinking really hard.

Your period was late, you didn’t remember how late, but it was late. Two months ago, Steve and you caught Escobar. Steve went straight back home and you had to stay, to finish completing paperwork. Then Javier was back in Colombia to follow the Cali Cartel, but you were assigned back to Miami and couldn’t stay.

To be fair, you were glad to be back home, but you really missed Javier. When shit went down with Los Pepes you were pissed off at Javier. You knew he usually overstepped the line to get intel, but this time he had stepped so far off the line, he wouldn’t be able to see the line.

The night before he left you decided you would drink your consciousness off because you hated to even think that Javier Peña was living in Colombia; after a glass of a really strong Rum and Cola you decided against it and knocked on Javier’s door.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, suggesting that he wasn’t up to listening to more of your nagging. Your head had a million thoughts racing, you wanted to tell him so many things varying from ‘you are an idiot’ to ‘why the fuck did you do this?’ but the only thing you articulate was something like ‘I don’t want you to go’

Javier’s face softened, although you cast down eyes couldn’t actually look at his face, he had stepped aside and invited you inside. “Do you want something to drink?” you shook your head, looking around the apartment. It was almost empty, but it has been pretty empty since the beginning. You sat on the floor, Javier following with a beer in his hand.

“Will you come back?” you asked him, but you already knew the answer.

“I don’t think so, it depends on the higher ups in the states” you nodded, looking at him. You were really going to miss him. “Look, it’s not like we won’t see each other anymore, when you guys catch Escobar-” you laughed humorlessly. How long would that be? Months, another year perhaps? 

Both of you stayed in silence for a while. “I should go.” you told him, standing up, he stood up as well.

“You shouldn’t go.” He told you, squeezing your shoulder tenderly, a familiar touch. You looked at his sweet dark brown eyes, a silly small smile playing on the corners of your lips.

“What do you mean? You have a plane to catch tomorrow.” you remind him, wondering if he was drunk, he clearly wasn’t. His hand, which was still on your shoulder, moved to cup your face. For a second, you were lost and didn’t understand what was happening, until you looked at his eyes again and understood. You didn’t wait for him to lean down, you just wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

You would lie if you have never felt curious as to why every informant in Colombia gave Javier the intel he wanted. After that night you understood why. He was passionate, attentive and a really generous lover. You might have even believed him if he had blurted out an ‘I love you’.

The only reason why you let this happen was because Javier was supposed to stay in the US, officially he wasn’t your (or Steve’s) compañero anymore. And that was true, even when he came back.

“Okay, so your results are in. After you told me you’ve been missing your period for quite a while, I drew some blood to analyze it.”

“Yeah, it must be stress. You know, I worked in Colombia with Connie’s husband and moving back here plus all the work I have to do was really stressful. Also, I had a UTI back in Colombia, I wasn’t drinking enough water and I read that the strain might move my period a little.” you started rambling. For some reason, you felt jittery, almost anxious at the look on the Doctor’s face. She had a grin in her face, really big and excited.

“That may delay your period for two weeks, but it won't magically make it disappear, dear.” She read the results once more and nodded to herself. “As I suspected, you are pregnant.”

“W-w-what?” you mumbled. “But I didn’t pee on the stick.” clearly, your brain had short-circuited.

“I have some pregnancy tests if you wish to take them yourself, but the blood analysis is pretty accurate.” she offered with a nice smile. You nodded and took the box going to the bathroom, trying to focus on reading the instructions.

The stick said you were pregnant. And you knew exactly who was the father.

You sighed at the papers you were reading, the office already empty, way past dinner time. Since catching Escobar, hours were cut short, but to you they were really slow. Steve wasn’t there, he had left a few weeks ago, Javier obviously wasn’t there. It was just you, some files and occasionally some booze to help you relax before sleeping. Thankfully, you would be leaving shortly.

On your way back to the apartment complex you stopped by a grocery store. You needed ice cream, and lots of chocolate, and some chips. Probably some booze too. You had bought a flask of whisky that reminded you of Javier, although whisky might not be your first choice of booze.

That same flask almost fell to the ground when you saw goddam Javier Peña entering his apartment, a big suitcase by his side.

He also noticed you, the dark bags under your eyes and messy hair evidence of your hard work. 

“Oh my god” you whispered, unbelieving. You walked and hugged him, relieved to see him again. “You are back?” you stupidly asked.

“Yeah, they want my intel and help to track down the Cali Cartel.” he answered.

“Well, that’s weird.”

“What?”

“My orders are to finish paperwork and return to Miami. They didn’t tell me to stay to help.”

“Well, it’s a different operation this time, more discreet.” he tried to hint you that it wasn’t just DEA business anymore, it was more a CIA kind of work. You invited him to your apartment, that had two boxes of things you were going to give to charity, you didn’t need all this stuff back home, you already had them.

He explained his situation while you shared the flask of whisky and bid good night like the old times, no kisses or sex, or nothing like that. Which was fine.

Everything was fine for the next few days. Javier even helped you pack your stuff and sort it out. The night before returning home he offered to go to the bar you always went to with Steve and him on Friday’s or Saturday’s (sometimes even a Monday)

Both of you drank like you always had, but instead of bidding goodnight and going to bed separately, you both had sex. Again. It was probably a coping mechanism, the way both of you said goodbye to each other. Such a complicated method.

So, so complex that now you were pregnant.

With a child.

Javier's child.

It had to be his, you only had sex with him within the last 3 months. Since Colombia you hadn’t have sex.

This was bad. It was complicated. You didn’t plan for a child; working at the DEA (chasing after Escobar) left you almost no time to think about dating, much more less building a fucking family. 

Could you do this? Hell yeah, you are an awesome strong woman.

What you couldn’t do was tell Javier.

When you came out the private room, you were fidgeting with your hands, Connie came and took them. “I’m pregnant.” you blurted out. Connie looked at you shocked; then you noticed little baby Olivia wasn’t on her arms.

Steve, in all his blonde mustache glory stood with his daughter on his arms, looking as shocked as Connie. “What?” he asked.

“Who is the father?” Connie inquired.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Steve.

“I came to pick up my wife and daughter for dinner. Why don’t you come with us and tell us more about this?” You nodded out of inertia, but you looked at your hands while walking, Connie hooking her arm with one of yours.

As you sat on traffic, you tentatively touched your belly. It was... normal. No kicking, no large or really hard belly. It was like there was nothing there.

You would have declined dinner if you knew the questionnaire that would come from the Murphy’s. Well, questionnaire would be an exaggeration, but you didn’t really like the single question they were asking.

“Who’s the father?” 

“I- I can’t tell you.”

“Why? We don’t know him?” you sighed and reassigned. You knew they would ask forever.

“Please, please, please you have to promise me you won’t tell anybody. Both of you.” you looked pointedly at Steve. He nodded but held your gaze, trying to figure out what you were really trying to say. A second later he muttered something.

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“What?” Connie asked but soon realized. “Oh, no way. Javier?”

“It’s Javier.” you confirm their suspicions.

“Are you certain?” Connie asked.

“Of course.” you paused and then added. “You can’t tell him Steve.”

“What? Why?” he sounded slightly offended.

“I should tell him first. He should hear it from me.”

“I can’t believe this. The minute I come back home you two just pound at each other.”

“It wasn’t like that, and technically you were still in Colombia the first time.”

“The first time?” he asked with a chuckle, he looked very happy.

“The second time I was the one leaving!” you paused, moving the food around your plate. “How the fuck am I going to tell him? I can’t just call him and be like, ‘hey I’m pregnant and you are the father. How’s the Cali stuff going?’. This kind of news aren’t told over a call.”

“But it’s different, it’s not a normal situation. Javier could be in Colombia for years.” Steve reminded you.

“It wouldn’t make a difference. He can’t come back until his work is done.” You rolled your eyes, there was no good alternative.

“So you plan to just hide this from him?” Connie asked, her look full of pity, if it was for you or Javier, you didn't know.

“Only until I know he’s coming back. I’ll check on him every once in a while. I’ll need you to call him too, Steve. I don’t want him to suspect me.” He sighed but nodded nonetheless. You sighed as well, a million thoughts racing through your head.

You called Javier that same week. Of course, it was unexpected for him but really welcome. Colombia was not rainbows and sunshine. “So how’s the Cartel treating you?”

“It’s a fucking nightmare, but hopefully it won’t take long. I can't talk too much over the phone about this, who knows who might be listening.” he sighed, sounding really 

“Yeah, you are right.” for a minute, you thought about telling him. Then you decided. “Please take care and be careful.”

“Of course compañera.” he assured, you could practically hear the smirk in his lips. After ending the call, you pressed the heels of your palms in your eyes. How in the world were you going to tell him?

–––––– 

A month turned into two, and then five months flew by in the blink of an eye. Javier was not coming back for the time being and your belly was starting to pop. Your head was still working on how in the world were you going to tell Javier, which was the only problem you had right now. It wasn’t even a big problem, if Javier wanted an out of fatherhood he was free to go, but you had been so happy since day two (day one was a full shock) that you honestly didn’t care.

You were getting way too ahead of yourself. Maybe Javi wanted to be a father and he would be really happy with the little baby. But that wasn’t the Javier you knew, and that’s why you were so afraid to tell him. 

Today looked like the best day to tell him. You were going to probably get to know if the little baby was a girl or a boy. You were waiting patiently for him to pick up the call in the hospital public phone. After a while, he picked up.

“Hello?” his voice sounded gruff and stressed.

“Hi, compañero. How are you?” you asked, a hand on your belly.

“As fine as I can be here,” he answered. “What did you want?” he asked abruptly, almost tired of talking to you. It stinged a little.

“I just called to check in…” you lied, maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell him after all.

“I’m going to be as clear as I can. Don’t call me, unless you are fucking dying.” you felt a piercing pain in your throat, a tight knot forming, making it really difficult to talk.

“Fine.” you hissed and hanged the phone, tears slipping down your cheeks. Fucking hormones. Fucking Javier. 

Connie, who was waiting for you anxiously to come back, hugged you. “It’s okay sweetie, it’s okay.” you nodded and wiped your tears.

“I’m okay. I just need to focus on my baby and myself right now.” you told her and rubbed your belly.

“Of course honey.”

––––––– 

It had been a really smooth and sweet pregnancy, you were really happy with your 5th month old baby boy Francisco. He was really sweet, but he had so, so much of his father, the resemblance was uncanny. Deep brown sweet eyes, and a mop of soft brown hair.

Javier had not called you since that horrible last call. You knew he called Steve every once in a while, but you asked Steve please not to tell you anything about him. Both Murphy’s just assumed you had told Javier about the pregnancy and that he had not taken it well.

This was a lie. Javier had no idea you were pregnant, much more less with his child. But he was still in Colombia, so unless you told him he would not hear it from anyone. 

It hurted you deeply, not being able to tell your son who his father was. However, all around your house there were pictures of Steve, Javi and yourself from Colombia. Connie and Olivia were there too, even Carillo. 

Anyways, the baby was too young to notice the absence of his father. Maybe by the time Francisco starts wondering about daddy, Javier would be around the USA to talk.

Your son cooed and asked to be held up, it was time for his nap. Just in time, you thought, Steve was coming over to pick him up as you were going to meet your best friend in an hour or so. Your baby boy soon fell asleep, you held him in against your chest, rocking him gently.

Then the doorbell rang.

“Steve, you are early. Fran just fell asleep.” you told Steve. But it wasn’t Steve. Javier fucking Peña stood in the door way, his eyes looking at your son. You frowned and tried to hide Francisco’s face sneakily from him. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, compañera.” he said, but his mind was not entirely focused on whatever he was saying. His mind was in the baby, and about how quickly you had moved on.

“Don’t compañera me.” you hissed, in a hushed tone, the baby in your arms sleeping soundly. “Come in.” you told him, as you turned around to leave your baby on his cradle. 

Javier looked around, looking for any sign of the baby’s father. But he only found pictures of you, Steve, Connie, baby Olivia and other people he knew. Then he started thinking, what if the baby was his child?

No, that’s not possible. 

“So?” you asked, really anxious. You had no idea he would be here. You were not prepared for this. But really, would you ever be prepared?

“I came to apologize.” Javier simply said, his hands on his hips.

“Took you a little long.” you said, rubbing your hands together. “If you apologized sooner I could have…”

“Could have what?” you exhaled and sighed, trying not to cry. 

“You are not supposed to be here.” you whisper, your voice cracking softly as you sit on your sofa. Javier sat by your side and you felt the weight of your decisions constrict your chest, making it harder to breath.

You were a horrible, horrible person. How could you deny him knowing he was a father? That he had a child? It didn’t matter how angry you felt, or how much of an asshole he had been. The baby was made by both of you. He had the right to know.

“I’m sorry.” he was not sure why, but he really was sorry. You shook your head, and started to tell him that you were sorry, repeating like a prayer. “Hey, hey” he tried to calm you down, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “Breath, baby. Breath.” you complied, breathing deeply. After a minute of silence you took his rough big hand and held it, squeezing it slightly.

“Javier, I got news for you.” you started, and felt his hand tense. “The baby boy, Francisco, he’s your son, our son.” He looked at you, his eyes wide, looking like a deer in the headlights. “That time I called you, I was pregnant, and I wanted to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me after?”

“You told me not to call you unless I was fucking dying.” you exhaled and stood up. “Look you don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to, I had Francisco because I wanted to, but I didn't expect anything from you.”

“Not getting involved? What are you talking about?” he asked offended.

“I’m sorry, and I mean no offense, but you don't strike as the kind of guy who would want a family, or children.”

“And what the fuck do you know?” he raised his voice a little, making you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, and I can’t do anything to return back time.” you told him sincerely. A loud whine was heard from your room, where the crib was. You sighed and went to your room, to calm Francisco down. Unbeknownst to you, Javier followed you looking how you delicately held him and rocked him. The baby’s eyes were still closed, he was just a little disturbed.

You looked at the door frame, Javier stood there, looking at the child. You walked to him, your intentions clear. “Do you want to hold him?” you asked your voice soft and soothing. Javier gulped, feeling suddenly nervous, he didn’t know how to hold a baby, what if he dropped him? “Don’t worry, I’ll help.” you offered, a kind smile in your face.

Javier extended his arms and you walked closer, softly passing your son to Javier’s big arms. Francisco whined a little and Javier’s face cringed, making you smile. “Hold him against you,” you helped, gently pushing his arms, closer to his chest. Francisco was fast asleep again. Javier just looked at him, marveled. You guide him to the sofa, making him sit there with your son. “I’ll be right back.” you tell him, and at the panicked face he made, you had to quiet your laugh. “You’ll be fine.”

You called your best friend, telling her you wouldn’t be able to meet her. When you stepped back on the living room, someone knocked on the door, it must be Steve. You opened the door and gestured to him to be quiet, pointing at the couch, were Javi sat (finally) relaxed.

Steve did not enter the house as you promised to call later. You returned to the living room and sat beside them, contemplating how peaceful they looked. Javier had moved your son, laying him against his broad chest. You caressed the baby’s hair, looking at him with doe eyes.

“Want to stay for dinner?” you asked standing up. Javier nodded and then lay his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. You smiled and entered your bedroom to change your clothes into something more comfortable.

You had nothing figured out, but you were happy knowing your son had a loving father to grow up with. You’ll figure your relationship out (if there was going to be one).

After some minutes, you heard some gurgles coming from the living room. Javi fell asleep, and Francisco was wide awake, looking at his father curiously, moving his little hands. You took the baby from him, kissing his chubby face. “Your daddy is sleeping, baby. C’mon, let’s give you some mashed banana.” you told him, caressing Javier’s hair back.

You spent some long 20 minutes feeding and nursing your baby boy while you also checked dinner. Javier, still fast asleep on the couch, woke up with a start, touching his chest, as if missing something. “Where’s the baby?” he asked, looking around.

“He’s here, Javier.” you told him from the kitchen, a silly smile on your face. Javier sat by the table, feeling self conscious at the baby’s gaze over him. His son’s arms moved up and down, talking unintelligible gibberish. “He likes you.” you commented, cleaning his chubby face. Javier held his hand out and Francisco took one of his fingers, squeezing with his baby strength. Javi’s heart skipped a beat.

Eating together was really weird, but at the same time it felt right. You noticed Javier’s tired face and wondered if he came straight from the airport. So you asked, sparking some conversation. You talked about what finally happened with the Cali Cartel.

“You got a place to stay?” you asked, but you knew the answer. “You can stay here if you want. Hotel’s are really expensive right now.”

“You sure?” you nodded. You forgot how well you clicked with Javier, it was a nice reminder.

He helped you with the dishes, and then went to shower, getting his suitcase for clean clothes. You prepared Francisco for bed, giving him his formula bottle after changing his diapers.

You saw Javier getting out of the bathroom, and thankfully had the decency to wear full pajamas, you would have fainted at the view of his bare chest.

“So, I’ll go to the couch, do you have a blanket?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “I was going to tell you to sleep in the bed with me. We already shared a bed before, so I don’t see a problem. Plus, I could use the help if Francisco wakes up.” you commented with a cocky smirk. You usually wore just a t-shirt to bed, but today you had to use full pajamas, like Javi did.

“Okay.” Javier said, not really convinced. Francisco was asleep already, his father caressed his little hand with his finger. You were already under the covers, ready to hit the bed, Javier looked tired too.

He laid down, under the covers as well, looking at the ceiling. He moved looking at you, you were both face to face, generous space between both of you. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, and took his hands on yours.

“Sleep Javi, you look tired.” you kissed the back of his hands and closed your eyes, sleep getting the best of you. Javi smiled, his face soft, getting a little closer, leaving his hand on yours, then he shut his eyes. He had never felt more at home. 

[ladyhaesoo]

hotel blue moon | 7

"Zombie Kid. Have you read my books?"

“I’m too old for fairytales.”

part 1 | part 6 | part 8 | read on page (not for the mobile app, but prettier)

a/n: han sejoo is from chicago typewriter, a drama about writers and ghosts!

Unfortunately, trips must end, and at the end of them one must return to reality. For Moonyoung, that meant Sangin.

He appeared at her hotel room carrying bags of food and a deep, deep frown. Moonyoung and Kangtae had stopped at another roadside restaurant on the way back and eaten some cheap meat, but Moonyoung never said no to food. She was always still hungry anyway.

She let him set things up on the table, mostly ignoring when she knocked some empty cups over. "How was your trip?" he inquired, mixing the noodles and serving them into a ridiculous paper plate. "Where did you go?" He had that tone on, like he was trying to scare her with polite inquiries. She rolled her eyes.

"Hwaseong. It was fun."

"And Moon Kangtae?"

She could almost still feel his leg pressing against hers like it had in that cafe. Skin, fabric. His eyes on her, from every slow line up her legs to the quick scan after that man had almost hit her. Had fun? he'd asked. "He was fun too," she said finding her lips curling into a satisfied smirk—you'd almost think something had happened. And while it was a true shame that nothing had, there was always the next time, and the next time, and the next. Moonyoung had absolutely no intention of leaving the man alone now.

"Moonyoung," Sangin was saying, and she rolled her eyes and dragged herself back to the far less interesting present company. "Do you like him? Do you want him?" His tone was accusatory and annoying, but she didn't care.

"Yes. Moon Kangtae. I guess everyone I like is a Moon. Did the Moon clan do me a favour in a past life?"

Sangin didn't even bother to look offended. "Moonyoung, you don't know anything about him! You can't just go off on a trip like that with a stranger! Hwaseong? That's hours away! What did you do? "

"Ruined an election," she said, then held up a hand when Sangin looked like he'd burst a vessel or three. "Don't worry, none of the cameras were on me, and I wasn't recognised."

"Who the hell is this guy?" Sangin muttered. "Seungjae told me she gave you that report on him. I went to that hotel. That place isn't any fancy hotel. Ruined an election? They don't even have a website! This guy isn't trustworthy, Moonyoung."

Her smile dropped. That, at least—was true. About the hotel, anyway. As for trust—she didn't trust anyone, and she was too smart to be scammed and too violent to get hurt. Sangin, of all people, should know that. But the hotel... it remained a problem. Oh, she'd asked him a few questions, but his answers hadn't been particularly helpful, and she'd pushed it aside in favour of more interesting things, but... "I don't want his hotel," she told Sangin all the same, because she wasn't interested in him being right or reasonable. "I want him.”

Still, once Sangin was gone, she looked up Hotel Blue Moon and—

—he was right. No website.

She dreamed of the hotel once again. Towers rose into the sky, a palace grander than the one she hadn't seen in years, with pointed roofs and balustraded balconies. Windows both lit and unlit left a pretty silhouette on the night sky. And above all of it—a shining blue crescent.

They met for dinner at a mall near the restaurant where she had a short reading. She waited at the exit once everyone had left, tapping her foot. Sangin had tried to convince her out of it, but Moonyoung had ignored him until he left, looking disgruntled and snapping at the art director.

Kangtae arrived, looking—somehow—even better than usual. She smirked when he got to her, tilting her head back. "We match," she said, and he looked between the cream collars of his shirt, and her own matching outfit, and nodded. "Shall we?"

The restaurant was close enough to walk, which was perhaps not ideal, as Moonyoung was still tossing up whether or not she would drag him back to her hotel room after dinner. It depended on how the night went, she supposed—though looking at the fit of that suit, she was leaning just a little more towards it. "Was that a signing?" he asked as they approached a crossing.

She hummed. "A reading." An American businessman who was apparently a very big fan had made a deal with Sangin to push distribution at his existing stores in the US, and in return she was one of the writers doing a reading at the brand new opened store. The eye of attention, fortunately, was not on her but on thriller novelist Han Sejoo—fortunate because, as much as she liked attention, she did not want cameras hovering around her before her date. Since Han Sejoo was there, they had all run after him, which made for a nice change.

"What did you read?" he asked.

She looked at him. "Zombie Kid. Have you read my books?"

He shook his head no. "I'm too old for fairy tales."

She scoffed. "Is there a rule that says adults can't read fairytales? You're not that old—the perfect age."

Kangtae looked amused, though she couldn't think why. "I'm older than you think."

She leaned up as much as her heels could allow, as though checking for wrinkles. "Are you? How much older? A few months? A year or two?" She mock-gasped. "Are you a vampire?"

Kangtae's let his mouth slowly pull open, teeth glinting as he smirked at her, and she barely avoided visibly shaking. That was—definitely intentional. Bastard. "You've caught me. I'm a hundred of years old vampire. Is that in one of your fairytales?"

The crossing lights stopped. They were two minutes from the restaurantùbut only ten from the parking lot where her car was, and a fifteen minute drive to her hotel room. Dinner was suddenly less appetizing than taking him there. "Eat me and it will be," she said, leaning to say it almost into his ear.

Kangtae looked, just for a second, like he was really going to eat her, right there on the sidewalk—but whatever he was going to say or do was interrupted by a flower inserting itself between their faces.

Moonyoung took a step back to stop her eyes crossing as the flower bobbed in and out of focus. An old woman in an apron and neckerchief stood there with a basket of similar flowers, still holding the one out. "Mister, please buy a pretty flower for your pretty girlfriend. Oh, you're so pretty! Mister, do you like flowers?"

"What—" Kangtae started to say. Moonyoung frowned as everything on his face, so open just seconds ago, vanished behind a mask, face hardening. "We don't want flowers," he said in the end.

"I do," Moonyoung said, taking the flower, even though it was nothing special—white, trumpet-shaped, with thin petals. "How much is it?" she asked.

"Oh, you're so pretty, it's free for you," the old woman said, her smile just that little bit too sweet, voice just too high, to be genuine.

The light changed right after Moonyoung took the flower, and the old woman walked away, mutterin about pretty flowers under her breath. Moonyoung turned around just as her high-pitched voice disappeared—but a car hid her, and when it passed, she was gone. She looked at Kangtae. "What was that?" she asked.

He looked at the flower, then at her—and then, almost as though he had never been tense, his brows relaxed, his lips pulling up into a smile as fake as hers on a camera. "Let's go?" he asked. Moonyoung watched, fascinated, as the man pretended he hadn't been tense at all. Was it self-control? What about the woman had angered him, anyway? She hummed and turned to face the front, picking at the thin petals.

Who was Moon Kangtae?

They got to the restaurant and found it had overbooked, and Moonyoung would ordinarily complain, but she had something to say that she would rather not be interrupted by waiters and servers.

"Your CEO called me," Kangtae said though, before she could bring it up.

Moonyoung felt her lips pulling up. One wrong word and she was perfectly ready to eviscerate Sangin. "What did he say?" she asked.

"He said that you like pretty things. That you wanted to eat me alive, so I should stay away from you."

She let out a little laugh. Trust Sangin to try to ward someone away from her by warning him about her—hadn't he just been telling her about stranger danger as if he was her parent last night? Or maybe he just thought they were both dangerous for each other. It wouldn't surprise her; Sangin was terribly boring about people. Practical, he called it. "So? Why are you still here?"

"I'm not scared of you."

Moonyoung smirked. "You should read my fairytales. They have lots of beautiful witches—you'll like them." Kangtae looked amused, but Moonyoung had something more to add. "And they have castles, just like your hotel."

He raised his head, taking a step closer, the mask drawing back down over his features. "What did you say?"

"Your hotel. It's just like a palace, isn't it? I saw it twice."

He swallowed, and there it was—that tension. He was almost searching her eyes. "When did you see it?"

She raised her head. "At night. I dreamt of you."

"What was in the dream?" he asked, voice low enough to be illegal. She moved closer still, until there was just a whisper between them.

"You," she said, raising the flower between them. "Me. My bed." She paused, watching as his eyes flicked down to her lips and back. She held the edge of a petal to her lower lip, barely stopping herself from sucking it in. He was barely breathing. "You protected me." She added at the end. "And... Hotel Blue Moon."

One moment passed. Two. For those moments, she thought he was going to say something. Explain—somehow. But then the shutters were back, and the tension bled from Kangtae's head to sit in his shoulders and back. She had never though he was the looming sort, but apparently he was. "Forget about that dream, Ko Moonyoung," he said, strained voice at odds with the smile on his face. "And forget about that hotel."

And he turned around and began to walk away.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #460

“i let it fall - my heart  /  and as it fell, you rose to claim it”

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived? We have a tradition of opening one of the smaller presents on Christmas Eve. If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose? PANTS. I need new pants BADLY. What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc? It really depends on why I was crying and how hard. Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term? Old survey. I really thought he'd be assassinated more than any other president, honestly. Last time you felt suicidal? A couple weeks ago, but they were only passive thoughts. Last time you had butterflies? Sometime today, thinking about things. Biggest asshole you know? Some relative of my sister's in-laws' is so fucking rude. Literally no one likes him, but because he's family, he comes to events, anyway. Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them? No. What song did you last listen to? I'm listening to No Resolve's cover of "Set Fire to the Rain" by Adele. I have seriously been into rock/metal covers lately. Ever ridden in a police car? Yes. That's how they transport you from the ER to psych hospitals here. Ever witnessed a murder? JESUS, no. Have you ever lied under oath? No. Have you ever failed a subject before? I failed Algebra I during my last college attempt. Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? Noooo. I wouldn't. I want tarantulas, which are venomous (the potency ranging from what side of the world they come from), but even the worst of their venoms isn't fatal. Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? Yes. Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Yeah. Have you ever been to a movie that sold out? It's possible, idk. What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep? None, I think? When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad? I use a mouse. What’s your mom’s mom’s name? Cecelia. Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like? BOY THAT WOULD SUCK Have you ever been tempted to steal? No. What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? Moonwatcher. Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? No. Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself? Mom, walking to her bedroom after a shower. Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? Pyramid Head from the Silent Hill franchise. What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? When I'm driving, no music. I can't focus. Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I'd LOVE a sphinx. I doubt I'm ever getting rats or dogs again, but I do think they're cute. Females, anyway. I'm sorry but hairless male animals are just laksdjfk;lajdwkl;wj for obvious reasons. All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with? J, T, D, S. What did you and your ex fight about most? "The" ex, uhhhh... I don't really know. We didn't fight a lot. Don’t you love long hugs? YEAH especially if I'm crying or just in general need comfort. And long kisses? If we're serious and the timing is right, yeah. Have you ever purchased condoms? No. Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend? No previous ones, no. Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? No. Even I wasn't THAT low. Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it? Yes. My guilty conscience would eat me alive otherwise. Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot? No, and you're fucking garbage if you have. Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? I'm humiliated to tell people I don't HAVE a job. If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? omfg NO. I would absolutely pull over sobbing, move the animal to the side of the road, and hopefully there will be some wildflowers nearby to rest on it. I'd call whoever picks up roadkill, too. Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? Take me out to Olive Garden like a basic white bitch & feed me spicy shrimp fritas and u have approximately a 90% chance of getting laid. :eyes emoji: What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue? Ohhhh I know there's one, but I'm blanking. What would be the most amazing adventure to go on? That is like an impossible question. There are so many possible, epic adventures. When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like? Yup, in the past. Like shut the fuck up, are you the one dating them???? Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? I've done this many, many times. Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? Idk, there's a lot of people I know like that. What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives? Fall in love. Nothing matches that feeling to me. What would you rate 10/10? markerplayer What do you hope never changes? My resilience. I never want to give up when something knocks me down. Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? UM THAT IS MY MOTHER Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to? Girt. Like. Now. But I'm waiting until I actually see him again. This needs to be said to his face. Where is the person you have feelings at right now? He's maybe asleep or just waking up? I don't actually know his exact hours and I know they alternate, but I think he primarily works the night shift at his job? Are you happy with your relationship status? I'm not anymore. I want to be with ^ like very badly. When did you last cry? What for? Today. I'm terrified of loving someone again in the fear of getting very hurt or plain traumatized again. Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love? No. When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone? I usually hate questions that assume I can see the future, but I can tell you I plan to whenever I see He Who I've Mentioned a Gazillion Times In Today's Survey Spam. Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently? My dad, in the past. Not currently. What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself? If you wanna count hospital stays, like... a month? Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like? I've been made fun of online once because of my weight. The insult never left me. Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like? No. It's awful. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?” What a dick move. Some people don't like hugs. Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. Anyway, no. I hate my legs WAY too much. Who are you the most uncomfortable around? My sister's in-laws and her husband. Who has your heart? I'm never giving that to another person again. I've got it. But to answer the general question that's being asked, I've fallen like head over heels for Girt. Should cloning ever be allowed to happen? I think it's pretty... I don't know the right word. It just seems immoral to me? Especially when you start cloning things with an actual conscience. I can see a lot of problems arising from it. Are you impatient with really shy people? Well no, given I'm one of 'em. Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window? Throughout. What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently? Recently? Idk. Would you ever get a fashion mullet? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO mullets are so ugly alsdkfj;aljdl;jwe Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning? Isn't it historical, documented fact he was a living person? Even if that is true though, I don't believe in his "miracles." Do you believe in spiritual gifts? No. Do you believe in callings? No. If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done? UM hell yeah. Pls take pictures of me that help me believe I'm even just 0.001% pretty.

[robodaydreamer]

RadioHusk Week - #2 To Love A Dumbass

I meant to write a drabble and my hand slipped.

I’m sorry.

[ EDITED 4/5/20 ]

I want to do a drawing for every fic, it just takes my dumb butt forever to do anything. Forewarning, this was done at 2 am, so it might be a bit jumbled? I edited what I could to fix it. I hope you all enjoy!

To hell’s general population or the few who knew of him, Husk was a lot of things. Temperamental, apathetic, tired of everyone’s shit... the list could go on, but he liked to think he was a pretty simple guy.

Uncomplicated and easy to understand. You leave him alone, he’ll leave you alone. You get on his nerves, he’ll probably claw your eyes out. Maybe. If he actually had the energy for it. A fair trade if you asked him.

And he didn’t ask for much. To most, he didn’t like to be bothered, he enjoyed card games, he depended on alcohol to get him through the day, and he had a fondness for magic tricks.

That last one was a little-known fact to their small group of misfits. The hotel’s residents didn’t need to know about it. The only reason any of them had even found out was because of Angel Dust challenging him to a card game.

He was more than a little drunk at the time. Hah, he’d been fucking plastered.

Kicking that fluffy arachnoids ass was just a bonus. While he never doubted his own hand, being that uncoordinated never usually ended well for him. He tended to keep to himself when he was at his worst.

He was surprised he even agreed to do anything at all instead of telling that perverted walking stick to shove off! Even more surprising was as trashed as he’d been, he was still apparently unbeatable.

Husk wondered if he had an ace up his sleeve… and he didn’t even have sleeves… or wear clothes.

Yikes. Did bow ties and tophats count?

Hmmmm… wait. No. He wasn’t doing this to himself again. It was hard enough accepting he was an overgrown catbird. He’d leave this complicated crap alone. Besides, trying to wear clothes over fur was a pain in the ass. Not to mention extremely uncomfortable...

Lucky streak aside, Husk won whatever bet they’d made. He couldn’t quite remember what it was since he’d been blackout drunk, but he knew Vaggie had enough blackmail on Angel to get about a week’s worth of good behavior out of him.

That alone had made this whole thing an even bigger victory. The only problem was that with his drinking, while his gambling was on point, his mouth… wasn’t. 

Plenty of sinners gave away personal information when they were drunk. People did it while they were alive, so it wasn’t an uncommon thing down in hell. The only problem was where it ended up… or who it ended up with.

Long story short, he’d apparently let Angel Dust in on his appreciation for magic and had even shown him a trick or two with his cards while they were playing. He couldn’t remember jack shit, but it was possible.

How else would Angel have found out? The only other demons who’d know would be Alastor or Niffty and he doubted Alastor would randomly share something as insignificant as this. He may have a thing for pushing Husk’s buttons, but he didn’t think the other would just throw that out into the open without any context.

Actually, he probably would.

Either that or Niffty spilled the beans… she liked his coin behind the ear trick. She made for a great audience, even when she had to stop him to sweep up his stray feathers or dust the furniture in his room. He wasn’t a total slob, but he was rarely in his hotel room to begin with, so it wasn’t really his top priority.

Like right now. He could clean up the broken glass next to the bed, but he wasn’t going to. He drank often enough, so hangovers rarely bothered him, but sometimes even he overdid it.

His tolerance was absolutely phenomenal. A blessing and a curse. On the one hand, he could enjoy his booze and watch his drinking buddies fall over after a few shots of the hard stuff. On the other hand, it was tougher to get buzzed or even just flat out drunk if he wanted a quick way to escape his own mind.

Last night had been one of those times and he absolutely went overboard. The hangover he was nursing could definitely attest to that. If the pounding in his head grew any worse he’d probably die. Again.

With a sigh, Husk shifted into a more comfortable position, trying to keep his wings in mind. He didn’t need any other problems right now.

Speaking of problems, he hoped he didn’t do anything too stupid. How did he get back to his room, anyway? He tried to wrack his brain for answers, but all he got was a flash of white-hot pain radiating throughout his skull for his trouble.

This was the beauty of alcohol. It made you forget, even if it was only for a short time. He’d already made that mistake twice in one fucking day… One with Angel Dust, and the other with-

A knock at the door made him tense, the sound not at all helping his headache. Who was bothering him at this hour? Wait, what time was it? Shit… was he late for work? Most likely. He didn’t actually give too much of a shit, seeing as to how he worked seven days a week. 

The only one it would actually bother was-

//BANG//

The sound of the door slamming open and ramming into the wall made him jump so hard his teeth clacked together. 

A loud boisterous voice filled the quiet of his room moments later, “Ohhhhh Husker! Wakey wakey, my darling kitty cat! Your shift started hours ago, and our sour sinners are hankering for your testy temper. And quite possibly a beverage or two, but that is no concern of mine. Hahah!”

Husk groaned, curling into a ball. Maybe if he hid in his wings, the bastard would take the hint and leave. He was too exhausted to deal with this shit.

Of course, he wasn’t that lucky. Give him a deck of cards and you’d see him win the whole pot! But a radio demon that he just so happened to be in a relationship with? Not so much.

Hold on a damn minute… Was it a relationship? It was probably the closest thing to one. They never agreed on an actual title, but Alastor had been pretty pushy about them trying this… whatever it was out.

In fact, if he thought back to it, he hadn’t believed the guy at first, having been pining over said demon for years. Why would he come waltzing over to Husk, demanding him to be his significant other?

He’ll fucking tell you why. His own mouth betrayed him. With Angel Dust, he’d been very loose tongued thanks to his over drinking.

Alastor had come over to watch their game of cards, and by the end of it, had decided to poke fun at his old pal Husker. 

He’d given Husk a round of applause for his card tricks, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he’d won the game and left Angel Dust flipping the table in despair. None of it mattered because it hadn’t been enough to fill Alastor’s endless need to be entertained.

He just so happened to believe that ‘drunk Husk’ was an absolute riot. He’d told him as much in the past. 

Although, instead of the usual banter or wobbly cat behavior he would have normally provided, Husk decided to share an even more personal secret than his fucking magic tricks.

He’d told the cannibalistic serial killer he was in love with him.

And it didn’t end there. To make it worse, since he’d been three sheets to the wind, he ended up forgetting everything that happened.

Angel Dust finding out about him being a magician was fine.

Alastor finding out about his undying love for him?

Husk would sooner have jumped in front of an Angel on extermination day than to have revealed his feelings to Alastor.

When he’d found out about what he’d done, because of course the insufferable jackass had to bring up his mistake as soon as he was sober, he may or may not have tried to jump out of the nearest window.

That was a tough feat to accomplish considering his bar was on the first floor. Had he done it anyway? Well, he tried to, but the other put a stop to his attempt so he hadn’t gotten very far.

In the end, Alastor had told him he should’ve confessed sooner because they could’ve been spending quality time together. He may have spaced out after that due to his brain short-circuiting.

It was almost too good to be true.

Husk agreed to Alastor’s demands, feeling like he would’ve been an idiot to refuse an opportunity to spend more time with the demon that held his heart in the palm of his hand.

Should he have paid more attention to what those demands were? Hell yes. His impulsive decision left him with more questions than answers.

After all, making deals with demons was a dangerous game.

The lowlifes he used to play poker with regularly would’ve told him to suck it up and take the offer for what it was worth. Taking chances was their shtick. 

Jerry, the cheating piece of shit, would have asked, “Why look a gift horse in the mouth?”

This was why. He had so many regrets. 

Husk heard the tapping of hooved shoes making their way toward him and scowled from beneath his feathery shelter. If Al did what he knew he was absolutely going to freakin’ do, he’d give him the silent treatment for the next three days.

He’d say a week, but Husk would cave long before Alastor… He may like his space, but he liked Alastor more. The guy had a way of making him crave for his attention, even if the radio demon himself didn’t always want it in return.

Hell, Alastor rarely showed any interest in him to begin with. And no, having an interest in causing him constant aggravation did not fucking count. He was busy with the hotel and all of the ragtag tenants he got a sick pleasure tormenting. 

It was hilarious. Honestly, it was, but he wanted more… It was selfish, especially since he fell in love with Alastor for who he was and not for some warped soap opera version of himself that he was sure plenty of demons daydreamed about.

Eugh...

Husk was guilty of daydreaming. He daydreamed plenty when it came to his ‘partner.’ Husk would be the first to admit he was a hopeless romantic… well. Maybe not out loud. 

He liked the thought of tender touches, passionate kisses, and appreciative glances. Did he need them? No. Did the thought of them make his heart race? Fucking Christ, yes they did.

He knew Alastor wasn’t interested in any of that. It wasn’t who he was and Husk could accept that, selfish desires be damned. He just wished someone would give him a hint as to what exactly Alastor was playing at. 

Was this something he actually wanted? What was he getting out of it? Why would he even bother with something he usually thought was so ‘tedious?’ He’d said so plenty of times to Angel and Charlie.

It’s already been a few weeks since they’d made this little agreement. Now that he was thinking back on it, it's almost been a month! You’d think he’d know the answers to all of these questions by now, but he was left in the dark when it came to Alastor’s intentions. 

He was torn from his thoughts when a hand gripped his furry ankle and dragged him to the end of the bed. 

Husk let out a warning growl to try and ward off the other from his oncoming attack, but it was useless.

Alastor only chortled in response and Husk felt the hand wrapped around his ankle tighten briefly before moving away. He knew better than to believe that was it. This was only the beginning.

He was proven right when his wings were forcefully pried apart, revealing him to his attacker who looked way too smug for his own good. “My Dearest Husker, why must you hide from me? You know, while I do love your volatile personality, I’m only here to help!”

Holy shit… 

Had he actually fallen in love with this dumbass?

Husk sneered, the stabbing pain in his head only growing worse as he locked eyes with Alastor. “Help? How is this helping?”

He watched Alastor’s brows furrow for a split second before his grin stretched impossibly wider. “Why, of course it is! You would have missed your shift, otherwise. After all, your job is crucial! You’re the first face our lovely residents see!”

Sitting up, Husk felt his wings fluff up. This was getting ridiculous. He was hungover and more than a little unstable in the feelings department. Alastor was only making things worse, seeing as to how he was the main cause of his emotional turmoil. 

He could start yelling and throwing a tantrum, but that would only amuse the bastard and leave him with an even bigger headache. 

No. He had to catch him off guard.

Maybe he’d try something new… he had nothing to lose except his dignity and he’d lost that years ago.. 

Fuck it.

“I want a divorce.”

He felt a swell of pride at Alastor’s blank stare. So that actually shut him up, eh? Sure, this didn’t at all make any sense, but if he had to deal with Alastor’s bullshit, then the idiot was going to get bullshit thrown right back into his stupidly handsome face.

“Pardon?”

“I want a divorce.”

Alastor’s smile waned as his brows went back into a furrow, his head tilting to the side. “Husker, my good man… we aren’t married.”

Husk felt himself relax. Al’s voice had quieted immensely from his earlier shouting. He always had to project his voice, no matter where he went. This was a hell of a lot better for his head. He could already feel the pain lessen.

With a distracted nod, Husk huffed out, “I know. I still want a divorce.” He watched as Alastor’s grin strained, eyes narrowing as he studied him. He felt a shiver travel up his spine at the others searching stare.

Unsatisfied with what he seemed to not be able to find, Alastor released the firm grip he had on his feathers only to move those deft clawed hands behind his back. Husk was sure he was clenching them tight with frustration. 

He couldn’t tell if this was funny or sad. He didn’t want to piss off his ‘steady,’ but he also wasn’t in the mood to be pissed off himself.

Looking at Alastor, he had to admit it was actually pretty damn comical.

“No.”

Husk blinked, feathered brows raising high in confusion. “What?”

Alastor’s expression morphed into a sharp smile, his glowing red eye’s staring unwavering into Husk’s. He seemed to radiate extreme disapproval. “No. We aren’t getting a divorce, Dearest.” His smile gave an irritated twitch.

Holy shit. This was unexpected. He hadn’t actually thought something like this would upset the overlord so much. This should be funny. He should be laughing…

It wasn’t funny. He loved Alastor too much to keep this up, but he also didn’t understand. Why was Al taking this so seriously? The radio host would usually have laughed something like this off or made an even bigger joke out of it… so why wasn’t he doing that now?

He really needed to get answers. If they were going to be anything they needed to start by finding common ground.

Mind made up, Husk stretched. If he was going to do this, he might as well be comfortable. He let out a pleased hum at every pop or crack he worked out of his spine. That felt so much better…

He glanced back up at his uninvited guest, only to pause. Alastor’s previous expression was gone. Husk wasn’t sure if he could put a name to it… but it was softer. Not a word he was used to using when it came to this particular demon. He looked downright distracted as his eyes traveled along the length of Husk’s body…

There was absolutely no fucking way this was happening right now.

He felt hope well into his chest, but he buried it down deep, he had some questions that needed answering. “Okay. We won’t get a divorce… we can still be friend-married or whatever. I didn’t think you’d take what I said so seriously...”

Alastor seemed to tune back in at the sound of his voice, his smile taking on a more satisfied curl. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind! A divorce, hah! How silly…-” He stilled, a record scratching sound following his abrupt pause as one of his brows raised in question. “Friend-married?” 

He grimaced, “I do believe we have taken the next step in our relationship to a status higher than mere friends. Though I suppose that wouldn’t take away our actual friendship, I was hoping for a more committed type of companionship.”

Husk felt his jaw drop in shock. Hold the fucking phone, what? 

Alastor didn’t seem to notice his surprise, carrying on with a look of distaste. “Honestly, Husker… friend-married? Is that a word young folk are using these days? Taking two separate terms and mashing them together?” 

He let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at the thought. “I miss the days where words were used more appropriately.” Another twitch of his wide grin. “Besides, why crush words together when you can crush skulls?”

Husk gave a hard blink, his tail thumping on the sheets behind him. Holding up a clawed paw, he cut off the other’s rambling. “You… Do you seriously want to be in a relationship with me? You’re not just pulling my leg for a laugh?” If he was, he’d kill him. He’d probably be the one killed, but he would die trying.

Alastor’s confusion was palpable at this point as he tilted his head for a second time. “... I do believe I asked this of you before we began our partnership, yes. Besides, I may have just literally pulled your leg a short while ago, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I would spend so much time doing all of this just to cure my boredom..."

Husk felt like he was going to pass out. His heart was hammering so hard he thought it was going to beat right out of his chest. 

He was serious. Alastor wasn’t doing this for a laugh. He was actually interested in some form of relationship with him that wasn’t just friendly or work-based. 

Holy fucking shit what the fuck?

Husk’s ears were swiveling about, his fur was bristling, his tail was curling, and his wings were poofing out. He wasn’t sure what kind of fucking response his body was having to this unexpected situation. 

Was he confused? Was he flustered? Was he offended? He had no clue because he was feeling too much at once to comprehend a single thing.

He was able to stutter out a rushed, “Me? You want to be with me? Of all the demons in hell, you chose me?” 

Alastor gave a slow nod, regarding him with a curious gaze. “Why waste my time lavishing affection on just anyone when I can focus my attention on one demon in particular?” 

His hand rose from behind his back, cautiously reaching out towards Husk only to let it hover in the air between them as if he were worried about spooking him. He continued, “And who better than one whose company I enjoy… and one who I am so very fond of?”

Husk couldn’t fucking believe this. Alastor liked him. Alastor liked him to the point of wanting to be with him. Not just to terrorize him to get a reaction out of him. This whole time. This whole god damned time he could have been getting to know this crazy sonofabitch and here he was, wasting his only chance to do exactly what he’s wanted to for fucking years because he couldn’t just get over himself.

Husk shrunk in on himself with a horrified gasp, “Oh no. I’m the dumbass.” Before Alastor could question him, he ran his paw down his face, groaning out, “This whole time I thought you were just doing this because you were bored. You like pissing me off to the point of me ripping my own fur out!” 

His wings moved to cover him back up, he couldn’t bear to look at the demon in front of him anymore. This was too embarrassing. “I’m a fucking dumbass.” he muttered dejectedly.

The room was quiet for a few moments. Hell, Alastor could have vanished and he wouldn’t have been able to tell from beneath his feathery cocoon. This was amazing and awful all at once. He was an idiot, but he was a happy idiot.

He jumped at the feeling of gentle hands resting against his wings. He felt them hesitate before they began to caress him, palms moving in long even strokes. When Husk didn’t move to pull away or stop him, Alastor began to alternate between petting and running his claws soothingly through his feathers.

It felt nice… 

Husk felt himself begin to relax, not at all realizing how wound up he’d actually been. This was ridiculous. He needed to get a hold of himself… well. Maybe after a few more minutes of Alastor touching him like this... Alastor was comforting him. Would this ever happen again?

He really hoped so.

“Husk?” He felt his eyes snap open at the other’s hushed voice. He’s never heard Alastor so quiet before. They’d known each other for decades and not once has Alastor gotten even close to speaking in a volume this low that wasn’t a sinister threat. This was a soft plea for his attention.

Well, if he hadn’t had it before, he certainly had it now. He mentally prepared himself as best as he could before he shifted, immediately mourning the loss of the other’s hands as they retreated from his wings to give him space. 

Crossing his arms, he sat up and allowed his wings to part open, folding them down to rest over his legs and along the bedspread. Seeing as to how he’d let them drag across the floor plenty of times in the past, letting them hang off of the bed wouldn’t hurt them.

He glanced up toward Alastor, taking in his surprisingly patient smile and couldn’t help returning it with a smile of his own. Husk’s smile only widened as he grumbled, “You’re stuck with a dumbass for a partner. Hope you’re happy, ya wiseguy.”

Blinking owlishly, Alastor took on a more bemused grin. “Well… while there are several names I could call you, that one definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice. I prefer goofball!” He leaned down to get into Husk’s space, their faces only a few inches apart. “You’re a goofball, my Dear! But you’re my goofball.” 

Husk was glad he had fur because he felt his whole body heat up at just how close their faces were. It was harder to deal with his feelings when he was able to see Alastor up close. And this was really fucking close.

Alastor took notice of the change and seemed to study him, though he’d probably been doing that the whole damned time with how stupid Husk had been acting. Embarrassing. Absolutely humiliating. He was going to pretend this never happened. 

He was hungover. That was his excuse and... why was Alastor giving him that look?

Said overlord was giving him a large smirk, eyes lidded and teeth glinting from the minuscule light coming in from under his hotel’s door. His expression was one that told him he was about to get on Husk’s last nerve… he wanted to kiss that look right off his face.

Alastor closed the gap between them, purposely bumping their noses together. “My Dear sweet Husker. There’s no need to be shy! I had no idea you were so insecure. I’ll make sure to be more considerate of your feelings in the future.”

That little shit. He was teasing him! He had some fucking nerve.

Husk wasn’t about to let Alastor make fun of him. He was purposely trying to rile him up because he went all googly-eyed over him. It wasn’t his fault he fell in love with the guy! What right did he have to take advantage of that?

He made sure to give Alastor the stink eye and a very displeased noise that was definitely threatening and not at all pathetic. Okay, it was kind of pathetic. He was flustered, okay? It was tough to control his body when his instincts had a mind of their own!

Alastor beat him to the punch, making any thought of retaliation fly right out the window by gently nudging their noses together. “My Darling, don’t look so cross. I’m only teasing you!” 

Hah, Husk fucking knew it! The bastard.

The radio demon moved to press his face into Husk’s neck, his shoulders shaking with his laughter. 

Husk would have throttled him if he wasn’t currently trying not to combust. He was used to Alastor touching him, but this felt different. They were dating. It felt intimate when it really wasn’t. Was it? Oh shit… 

Normally he’d push him away, but it suddenly felt like the wrong thing to do. As if this was a moment he shouldn’t… couldn’t ruin. 

It was getting increasingly hard to not do anything, especially when the huffing breath against his neck was making him twitch. He was ticklish, and if Alastor ever found out he’d be screwed.

Okay, he had to move. He didn’t have to stop touching him, but he did have to stop chuckling into his neck. “Al, buddy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you gotta stop.” He leaned back, arms moving behind him to support his weight. 

Alastor let him go, laughter dying out as soon as Husk had distanced himself. “Oh? Have I gone too far? Did I offend you?” 

Husk shook his head, “Nah, not that you’d give two shits about offending anybody. Too far is never far enough for you. I’m just gonna have to get used to all of this…” He quickly cut the other off when he saw his mouth open to question him. “I’m not used to all this touchy-feely crap!”

Alastor gave him a wide-eyed stare. “I’m quite certain I touch you very often, my fine feathered feline. I’ve always been very affectionate with you. What is making this so difficult for you?” 

Well, he had a point. “Okay, look. I know nothings actually changed. It just feels different now that we’re together. I don’t know how else to explain it… Like I said. I just have to get over it.”

“Hmmmmm… Righto! Then I suppose we’ll just have to get you used to it!” Alastor leaned forward, his knee coming up to rest on the mattress between Husk's legs. The mattress dipped at the added weight, bringing Husk up slightly.

Husk blanched, too startled to question what Alastor was doing as the overlord wrapped an arm around his waist. “Stay still, my Dear. We’ll solve this little dilemma of yours in no time at all!” As he spoke, his head came down to nuzzle his face into Husk’s chest fur. 

This resulted in Husk arching his back to better accommodate for the body suddenly clinging to him.

Why was this happening to him? Was he being blessed or punished? 

This felt an awful lot like a fucking punishment. 

Is this what he got for being a dumbass?

Alastor's free hand moved to rest on top of his own. “Husker, my Darling… your heart is beating very fast.”  He could practically hear the smug smirk in his sweetheart's tone.

He could live with it...

[benkouji726]

Written for alexweek2020. Sequel to “Settled”, but can also be read as one-off. ...I think.

Anyways, “Settled” is based on meet ugly prompt 2: I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless.

Spoiler alert: they ended up living together! And none of them are aliens! Jesse died in the previous work, so all is well...ish.

Home can be a person

They’d been living together for a month now, and Alex still knew nothing about Michael Guerin.

OK that wasn’t entirely true. He knew plenty. Because one, he was a military man, his livelihood depended on his observation skills. And two, their schedules somehow synced perfectly, and after a week of awkwardly bumping each other in the kitchen and waiting turns to use the bathroom, it was simply easier if they just worked out a systematic plan to build their lives around each other, which led to divided chores, respected bathroom routines and shared meals. And when two men spent that much time together, they had no choice but to have conversations, which were really not that hard, because they clicked like magnets and they actually enjoyed spending time together.

So Alex knew plenty. Both from his observations and their conversations. But it was not like Guerin volunteered personal informations, and even he did, it was always surface stuff, so it didn’t really count. Like he knew Guerin was a mechanic, who was really good at his job. So good that he even opened his own auto shop the second year into the business. And based on what Alex saw, money was not exactly an issue for him. Which frankly didn’t match up with his squatting life style, not to mention he owned a perfectly functional airstream, but that topic was always brushed aside.

Alex also knew Guerin had two siblings, who moved away a year ago. They were both married, and apparently lived nearly enough that they did a weekly get together. Guerin would join them via FaceTime, they would laugh and talk, and Guerin seemed so happy when they did this, which did not explain why he was always a little sad when they were done. But again, not to be talked about.

Sometimes Alex would be impressed by Guerin’s topic changing skills. Granted, his go-to move was more often than not flirtation, but it worked like a charm on Alex, so whatever got the job done, right? And rationally, Alex knew he should be grateful, because Guerin was a surprisingly pleasant roommate. He was good company, he wasn’t nosy, he did VERY good repair work around the house, his cooking skills were better than Alex’s, and he slowly became the reason why Alex was looking forward to going back home after a day’s work. And truth be told, Alex wasn’t exactly an open book himself, so he should just respect Guerin’s boundaries and enjoy their easygoing companionship.

But he just couldn’t.

34 days into their co-living arrangement, Guerin came home, visibly upset. It was Alex’s day to make dinner. So he ignored Guerin at first to finish the lasagna. But when he was putting together a cob salad, he heard Guerin throw his tool box on to the floor, and caused a loud clang.

Guerin NEVER threw his tool box.

“What’s got into you today?” OK that was a little harsh. But in his defense, Alex was kind of tired of asking “are you ok” at that point, because he always got a “just dandy” and a too-big-to-be-genuine smile in reply.

Guerin shut down immediately, threw on a well-practiced smirk, and said: “Nothing. Unless you are up for the job?”

And just like that, Alex snapped.

He got up, got his keys, and left the house.

It was when he sat in his car, had no idea where he’d go, he realized that he didn’t even bring his wallet and phone, which was just stupid.

The whole thing was stupid.

He knew he had no right to feel angry and hurt. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Guerin didn’t owe him anything.

But he had felt their connection the first time they’d met, and it was there ever since. He thought Guerin felt it too.

Apparently he was wrong.

He came back two hours later, because he needed that time to work out an apology and also to learn not to be this naive again. When he got home, Guerin was sitting at the kitchen table, seemingly lost in his thoughts, lasagna in front of him, cold and forgotten.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, it was really none of my busi...” He began but was cut by Guerin mid-sentence.

“I didn’t eat”.

“...OK? Were u not hungry or was the lasagna that bad?”

Guerin looked up at him then. His eyes big, voice raw.

“I didn’t eat because it felt wrong.”

He looked back down at the lasagna.

“After you left, I was angry at first. Because fuck you, you know? I don’t owe you anything.”

“Yes, Guerin, I know, I was trying to apologize...”

Guerin continued as if not heard him at all.

“And then I got up to help me some food, man’s gotta eat, and frankly, lasagna is like, the only food you can make right. So I got myself a plate, and I sat down. Normally at that point, you would begin to nag me about eating some salad or drinking some water first, but then I looked up, and you were just, not there.”

He looked up again. All open and bare.

“So yeah, maybe it was not your business, but it was also wrong of me to assume I didn’t want it to be.”

They stared at each other. Both at lost what to say next. Eventually, Alex sat across the table, reached out, and squeezed Guerin’s hand.

“You reheat the lasagna, I’ll finish making the salad. And we’ll eat. OK? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, you didn’t even bring your wallet. I mean, dramatic much?”

“Shut up, Guerin.”

They didn’t talk about why Guerin was upset that night, but it was OK.

—————————

Things got better after that. They talked now, not just making conversation. Alex learned that Guerin had been in the system for a long time. His siblings, Max and Isobel, were actually not related to him. They had been just best friends in group homes, until they were adopted by the Evans, while Guerin went through many terrible foster families. They were united at the age of 15, when Guerin’s new foster home brought him to Roswell, and they had been inseparable ever since.

“That was, until Max decided to marry someone in LA, and moved there. And then Isobel’s husband also got a job in LA, they moved soon after. So it was just the same old me, again.”

They were at the fire pit in front of Guerin’s airstream, which he still wasn’t using, except sometimes he would go in there and do God knows what, they still didn’t reach the subject why he had been squatting yet. Alex suspected it had something to do with his issues with his siblings moving away, like the bitterness in his voice now had.

“Well, you’re literally sitting next to me now, so not exactly the same, you know?”

Guerin startled, and looked over at Alex with something like hope mixed with fear in his eyes. Alex stared right back, because at this point, he really wasn’t interested in pretending that they didn’t mean something to each other. And he hoped Guerin would drop the “I’m a lone wolf and I don’t care” act too, at least when he was with him.

Whatever Guerin saw on his face, seemed to satisfy him. He smiled, the kind of smile that reached his heart and soul, and said,

“You trying to hold my hand now, private?”

And they did.

—————————

Alex woke up in screaming. Next thing he knew, he was in Guerin’s arms.

He didn’t remember the dream. But he could easily guess the content. It was always the same. Bomb, blood, cries, he looked down, his leg was gone. Sometimes his father was there, sometimes he wasn’t. Either way, he felt his presence.

Normally, after he woke up from such a dream, he would do some breath exercise, get up, get some water, and didn’t even try to sleep again. But tonight, Guerin was right there, humming something like a lullaby, and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn’t say anything, or ask how he was doing, just held him and gently rocked him.

At some point, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour later, they lied down, together on Alex’s bed. Guerin’s hand slowly reached down, until he touched his stump. He rubbed it once, twice, and then he just stayed there.

Alex fell sleep.

——————————

Friday movie nights became some sort of tradition between them. They would finish their work, meet at the house, grab something to eat, and then drive to the drive-in theatre. Alex liked those nights, hell, he cherished those nights.

So he was very irritated when some shitty client just didn’t know what it meant to demand something WITHIN REASON, and he had to cancel their movie night via a short text. He was even more irritated when said client walked out in the last minute, so his previous work was totally wasted. Plus his new prosthetic was giving him trouble all day. Safe to say he was not in the greatest mood.

When he got home though, he was met by Guerin’s soft smile and homemade dinner. By the time they finished eating, he felt more or less like human again. Then Guerin gave him a dessert, told him to rest a bit on the sofa, and disappeared in the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he pulled Alex into the bathroom, where he already drew a bath for Alex.

He even lit some candles.

All of a sudden, Alex wanted to cry, except he hadn’t cried in ten years.

So he let out a shaky breath, buried himself in Guerin’s arms, and asked a stupid question.

“Why did you do all this?”

Guerin held him, shifted somewhat awkwardly, and said in a quiet voice.

“You spelled ‘bail’ wrong.”

Of all the answers, THAT was not what Alex expected.

“What?”

“Your text. I guess you meant to say you had to bail on our movie night. But you spelled it ‘ball’. Auto correct or something. And you never spelled wrong. So I figured, you must be exhausted.”

At that, Alex just HAD to kiss him.

—————————

They visited Greg together on a Saturday morning.

At the drive home, Alex was awfully quiet.

Michael didn’t ask. He made coffee. He fetched a blanket. He sat beside Alex on the sofa, and began to read his monthly mechanic magazine.

Alex talked before he decided he wanted to.

“My father was a piece of shit. And out of my three brothers, Greg is the only decent one. But when we were kids, he didn’t know how to protect me or stand up for me, when my father beat the shit out of me.”

Michael dropped his magazine, and silently held his hand. And Alex decided he wanted to keep talking.

“I wanted to make music. He sent me to war. Frankly, war wasn’t even a worse choice than my so called home. It just wasn’t a better choice either.”

“I never felt I belong anywhere, not at home. Not at war. I bought the house because Greg asked me to, because he was the only one who reminded me a shred of the ‘home’ concept. But today, seeing him with his family, I realized, he is my family, but he is not home.”

“I still don’t belong.”

He hadn’t cried for ten years. He didn’t want to begin now.

Expect the hands wiping his tears were so gentle, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I was offered a great job opportunity in New York, when I finished my study at UNM. But four years apart from Max and Isobel were tough enough that I decided to ditch that and move back.”

“I never felt I belonged, too, what with the fucked up system and shitty foster homes, except when I was with them. So I clung to them, a little bit desperately. When they moved away, I felt betrayed, left out and abandoned. I didn’t want to live in my airstream anymore because it felt like a fantasy I built, just to fool myself into thinking I could have followed them anywhere in it, because they were my harbor. But then they were gone, so I decided I wasn’t supposed to settle in anywhere, and that’s when I began to squat in people’s not lived in houses. Because they are just like me, you know, abandoned.”

“Until you invited me to live with you.”

They held each other a long time after that.

—————————

The email came on a Wednesday morning, and Michael was on the plane that very night to LA, because Liz was going into labor and Michael would become an uncle.

He asked Alex to come with him, but he was caught up at work so he just couldn’t make it.

They called each other every day though, Michael showed him so many baby pictures he even dreamed about it one night. He was vibrating joyful energy and Alex was happy for him.

Then on the fourth night since he was gone, he called Alex, hesitation evident in his voice.

“Liz pulled some strings at her university. And they offered me a job here.” He said, without so much as a hello.

Alex felt the world shook for a moment. Then he blinked, and the house seemed the same, intact, but somehow much quieter, and larger.

“I’m happy for you.”

An exhale.

“You are happy for me.” Michael repeated, slowly.

Alex shut his eyes. He thought of all the times Michael looked at the photos of the three of them, and all the times he seemed to be lost after he ended their phone calls, and he opened his eyes again.

“They are your family.” He said simply.

Another exhale.

“Yeah, they are.”

Silence.

After three minutes of nothing else, Alex hung up.

——————————

Michael came back on Tuesday afternoon.

Alex had not been sleeping well, or eating properly, so at first he thought he might be dreaming or something.

But there he was, clearly not been sleeping well, or eating properly himself, eyes glaring with fond anger.

“You are a dumbass, you know? You’re just gonna give me up like that?”

Alex refused to back down.

“It’s not giving up. You always wanted a family, a home. I don’t wanna stand between you and your opportunity of that.”

Michael shook his head, sighed, and pulled Alex into his arms.

“You still don’t understand, do you? They are my family, true. But YOU are my home.”

And there, stood in his embrace, Alex finally understood.