#anyways.. me preparing to say goodbye to all the money in my bank account (not rly but kinda)

[miserye]

So sorry KAT you’re gonna watch me lose my mind over my mothers birthday present because she IS insane

[earthtooz]

BABE I HAD AN IDEA- Reo Mikage ANGST where he calls reader a gold digging whore in the middle of an argument, ultimately affirming all of her insecurities so he has to figure out a way to show that he didn't mean it and that he's sorry without using his disgustingly abundant wealth 💔 anyways ilysm hope you take care of yourself

NO YOU ARE LITERALLY DISGUSTING FOR THIS (affectionate) YOUR MIND >>> YOU ARE SOOOOO RIGHT. SHUT UP THIS WILL LITERALLY BE THE MOST SCRUMPTIOUS FIC EVER BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY ABOUT TO PUT MY WHOLE EARTHUSSY INTO INCORPORATING THIS IDEA SOMEWHERE !!! BUT FOR NOW, TAKE THIS SNIPPET I WHIPPED UP IN ONE SITTING.

girl feel free to come back into my inbox WHENEVER and giving me your juicy ideas bc holy shit i loved this.

CW: HURT/COMFORT - A LOT OF BOTH, SWEARING, UNEDITED - I WAS GOING THRU IT WHILST WRITING THIS DON'T LOOK AT ME!

IMAGINE THIS: it's been a rough night for both you and reo, he's been through a lot in the past weeks because his dad just had to during the middle of soccer season to lecture reo about how to run a big business. the transition process is beginning to happen since father mikage is about to retire and although your purple-haired boyfriend has been preparing for this his whole life, having gone to business school part-time and graduating with honours, there's still a little part of him that feels weary from all the responsibilities.

all this accumulated stress needs to have an outlet eventually, right? welp, you just happened to be there at the right (wrong) time. you were simply delivering a platter of apples to your boyfriend who had his head in his hands, hunched over an endless pile of paperwork that was beginning to irk him with each passing second. countless images of him shredding up the paper flowed into his mind, a fury that manifested into his reality, except the paper was you D,:

one thing evolved into another, reo's endless stream of venomous words didn't stop flowing out of him as he spat poison after poison, burning you with the intensity of it all.

"you're so overbearing, can't you see that i'm fine? unlike you i can handle myself when things get hard," he spits, eyeing you with fury in his eyes, one that makes you gulp thickly.

"reo-"

-but you wouldn't know the first thing about fighting for what you want right, you fucking gold-digger."

that stops you in your tracks, silences you effortlessly, causing you to let your hands drop limply back to your sides as you stare at your boyfriend blankly. you're sinking into an abyss of hurt and insecurity, it's getting harder to breathe because of the way your chest swells with anger.

reo only continues, not noticing the way you physically and emotionally drop. "even if you don't give me attention for one second of the day, i won't forget you exist, so stop being so clingy and unnecessary! my money isn't going anywhere either, you don't need to occupy majority of my day so leave me alone. go shop online or something."

that was it. was that all reo perceived you to be? a dent in his money, the expenses of his bank account?

"fine. goodbye," you simply mutter before slipping through his office door, out in the hallway.

"don't bother me whilst i'm in here," he says with finality, one last declaration before you shut the door behind you.

the luxurious walls of reo's penthouse look down at you mockingly, the spacious area caging you in, chanting 'gold-digger' over and over again until it's all you hear.

staying here feels wrong.

so, you grab your purse and leave, as quietly as possible. slipping down to the garage where your (second hand) car was parked, you start the engine up and begin reversing out of the parking lot.

you begin to reflect on your relationship with reo. you love him, you really do, you love him because he's reo, the man who was always capable of making you smile, laugh, and make you feel like you were on top of the world. his money and fame was an added bonus that you truly didn't care much about.

but ever since dating him, you've had your own insecurities that have been forced on you by other people. there were crowds calling you a 'gold digger' who was only with reo 'for the money', and although you were sure of yourself and your intentions, your armour breaks down sometimes.

what reo said tonight was the final jab that allowed it to fully disintegrate.

you had a stable job of your own and finances to your own name, money wasn't something you avidly chased, sure having a few zeroes in your bank account was nice but that was all you really needed. as long as you could buy necessities and spoil yourself, it was satisfactory, and you could provide that for yourself!

reo loved to spoil you, showering you in luxurious gifts that you never knew how to accept. it would take a great deal of convincing for you to take what he bought you, and when you promised him to stop buying them for you, he agreed before buying you more material stuff.

as you pull up to the parking lot of the apartment complex that you resided in, you get into the elevator with a heavy heart, pressing the button to your floor with a lot of emotions.

the ride is silent. everything is so silent.

your apartment is even more silent. it's unused, slightly barren. your furniture was still there, except some dust had gathered on the tables and cabinets from how long you've neglected it.

the only reason you were able to keep your apartment was because you had no expenses outflowing since reo took care of almost everything. anything you needed, he bought it, groceries, bills, whatever, were charged on his card. for a period of time, your bank account merely grew and never decreased.

and since you hadn't been here for a while, electricity and water bills never bothered you too much.

you flop onto your made bed with a sigh. it wasn't as soft as reo's but you didn't find it in you to care, you just needed some well-deserved shut eye.

well, 'shut eye' occurred for merely an hour before your phone started vibrating violently.

with a groan, you shove your face back into your pillows before blindly reaching for your phone.

you already knew who it would be without looking at the caller id. of course reo would be looking for you, noting your obvious absence in his penthouse.

"hello?" you mutter.

"y/n? where the hell are you?" comes reo's frantic voice from the other line. he sounds genuinely concerned.

"doesn't matter."

"i'm sorry for everything i said. please, come back."

"reo, i'm tired, i can't do this with you right now."

"i'm sorry, i'm really really sorry."

"i don't want to hear this right now."

"i love you."

you sigh and you're sure reo can hear it on his end. unsure of how to respond, you just hang up on him before throwing your phone away. normally, you would feel bad about the way you left him, but that wasn't the case this time. you just needed to sleep on this.

but, it was reo you were talking about, and the last thing he was going to let you do was sleep without him.

at 1:24am, there's a series of ferocious knocks on your door, followed by screams of your name.

oh my god it was so embarrassing, you literally shoot out of bed as soon as you register what was happening and dash for your door. you don't want to disturb your neighbours' sleep and let them hear that the pathetic grovelling of your boyfriend. the entire hallway could hear reo and his shouting.

you open the door, pull him in, and slam it shut behind you again, leaving the purple-haired to stare at you with a bewildered expression.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss.

he looks at you the same way a puppy does when its owner kicked it out of the house.

you should've known that merely telling reo 'i don't want to hear this right now' would not be enough to pacify his determination and the fact that you hung up on him only intensified his pettiness. the purple-haired always sought you out, pulling himself into your orbit like a magnet. where you went, reo followed, even if it was to the ends of the world.

he had the money to do whatever he wanted, you suppose.

"i wanted to make sure you were safe," he pouts. "i didn't know whether you'd be here or not."

"well, i'm safe, and i'm here. so."

"i can see that," he leans against the back of your couch. reo looks so out of place in your small apartment, awkwardly playing with his hands. "so... should we go to bed?"

the audacity. "what do you mean 'we'? go back home, reo, i'll see you some other time."

as you turn around to go back to your bedroom, reo's quick enough to round around you, blocking you from the hallway with his larger figure.

"but you are my home. please, i'm really sorry about what i said, i didn't mean it," he pleads, grabbing your face so you could look him square in the eye.

you step out of his grasp easily, shaking him off. if you were in your right mind, you would've seen the look of heartbreak on reo's face.

"sure, if you didn't mean it then you wouldn't have said it in the first place, mikage."

you swerve around him to reach your bedroom and he follows you the entire time, trailing behind you, desperate for an ounce of your attention.

"i know i fucked up, but i didn't mean to hurt you and project my frustrations like that onto you when you were just trying to care for me." you sit down on your bed with a sigh and reo takes a seat beside you. "you know i love you right? like, a lot."

that's right. if there's one thing about reo it's that he loves you to an endless degree.

"thank you for always caring for me. i know you don't do it because you're after my money or fame, but because you want to ensure that i'm healthy and not rotting in all that i have to do," his voice cracks. is he beginning to cry. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

you let a beat of silence pass by before dropping your walls. he was always going to smash through them no matter what.

"i've always felt insecure in our relationship," you confess, no louder than an exhale and if reo wasn't holding on to every action of yours, he wouldn't have heard you. "being called a gold digger became normal when i started dating you and i didn't really care. well- i tried not to care."

you continue. "i don't want to let these comments get to me, but then you said it and... i don't know, it just felt horrible."

you feel an arm sneak under your leg, and another hand come to your elbow, both of which simultaneously pull you to straddle reo's lap. you don't look him in the eye- something he frowns at.

"i love you for you. you're the best i'll ever have, reo, but sometimes i-"

"-please don't finish that sentence," he murmurs, breath fanning against your face.

you meet his gaze. he's crying freely. tears are running down his cheeks like streams and you instinctively bring use your thumbs to catch the drops. you hate it when he cries.

"i don't want it to be anyone else but you," confesses the purple-haired. "i hate it when we're separated, i can't stay away from you too long or i think i will go insane."

his statement causes you to giggle a little.

"you laugh but i'm telling the truth."

"i laugh because you make me happy."

his arms wound around your waist, keeping you pressed against him, leaving you with no room to escape or part from him. just what reo likes.

"i'm sorry for what i said," he says against your collarbone. "when i didn't see you in our home, i didn't know what to think. i got so scared for a second because i had no idea where you could've gone so i started spamming your number-"

"-yeah wait, was calling me 24 times necessary?"

"i was going to keep calling you until you picked up so it could've taken 24 or 1000 times or more. now let me speak." you nod wordlessly, smiling a little at how silly reo can be. "and when i realised that you went back to your apartment, i felt horrible that i drove you out."

he looks up at you with glossy eyes.

"you came here because you wanted to prove me wrong, right? because you bought all this by yourself and don't need me, right?"

"well, kind of, but i also didn't want to be around you so i came back here."

reo frowns before leaning in to press delicate kisses to your neck. "please don't leave me. i need you by my side," he inhales before whispering his next statement. "even if you don't need me."

a hand of yours go up to thread through his hair. "don't say that," you use your other hand to direct his face away from your neck, pressing a kiss against his puckered lips. "i absolutely adore you, my love. you're my favourite person ever."

he smiles before leaning in again, kissing you with more fervour and passion. you can feel another tear slide down his cheek.

"lets go to bed, reo," you say when you part and he simply nods, laying you on the side of the bed before laying beside you, arms naturally finding themselves around your waist as reo tugs you as humanely close as possible. "sorry if this mattress isn't as comfortable as your twelve grand one back home."

"i couldn't care less," he whispers whilst tracing patterns on your bare skin.

so long as it's you he's next to, reo doesn't have a lot to complain about.

[translucent-at-best]

Scatter-brained...

I'm moving next month and when I tell you I am ill-prepared... yikes. Even still, although I have my moments of panic here and there, I wouldn't say I'm in panic mode. Might should be, but I'm not. Right now, anyway.

Every Black person I know in LA went to the Renaissance tour for Beyonce's birthday show tonight. Love that for them, hate that for me.

Yesterday I gave myself an orgasm that I felt in my toes and fingertips. That shit was amazing. My body needed that.

Talked to my best friend from back home earlier this week and she admitted to me that she cheated on her husband. My roommate broke up with her boyfriend yesterday after finding out he'd moved a woman he worked with in with him and had been lying to her about it for over a month. Last night while my roommate was on the phone with friends trying to comfort her, they just kept going on and on with examples of how their boyfriends had dogged them and how they'd dealt with it.

Ayo... I know relationships are work. But all these instances have me wondering am I dumb for thinking that work was mostly gonna entail learning to love and merge lives with your person? I can't imagine completely disregarding someone's feelings like that and being so intentional in hurting my partner. This really what folks just out here doing?

Had to cancel my Houston trip and although I'm bummed about it, I'm more so relieved that I get to keep that money in my bank account. Adulting and being responsible for keeping a roof over my head is some bullshit though.

I've gotten really close with a couple of my coworkers over the past few months. We've been hanging out pretty regularly and whenever we see each other, I noticed we always hug as a greeting and as a goodbye. The reason I noticed this is because before that started happening, I was being hugged very infrequently. Not that I didn't have friends before them, but those other friends aren't big on being touched, so we never hug.

It's little, but it's meaningful and I don't take it for granted. I really miss being touched and held.

Motherfuck these upcoming student loan payments.

Speaking of those new friends, I was honest with them and told them I didn't have the funds to go through with plans we made a while ago. Past Michelle would've cancelled without a reason and isolated myself until I was financially okay again. Present Michelle realizes that people I care about don't deserve the disappearing act, so I let myself be vulnerable and let them know.

I appreciated their response so much. Instead of making me feel bad for cancelling, we changed plans from an outing to a chill day in and cooked instead of ordering food so that we could still get together. That meant so much. I'm blessed to know some really genuine people.

[thejudgingtrash]

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

[samwritesforyou]

Booked

Diego x reader (the whole family is present at the beginning but as time goes on becomes more Diego-centric)

Summary: You have a summer house that is far away from any big cities, you’ve inherited it from your great-great-parents and you want to prove to your friends that you cannot possibly make an income out of it. So you submit the house at booking dot com for the lowest price possible. Your plan was working for years and you’ve been happy and content just by growing your own food and participating in the village’s community, completely forgetting about the offer you presented on booking. Until one day, seven siblings arrive at your place, saying they reserved themselves the whole house for the eternity of summer.

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, swear words (? but just a couple, mainly from Five)

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: settling is post s2, so everyone looks accordingly. umbrella academy gets back into the timeline where no umbrella nor the sparrow academy exists, yet the world is still ending. mostly written out of nostalgia for my own summer house that my family sold years ago and i will never come back there, so i want it to live on at least somewhere

Summers were always hot in this little village that you lived in, especially with the climate change looming over humanity’s ignorant heads.

So you were actually relieved that you finally persuaded a local technician to help you fix the fridge that stopped freezing its insides for good two weeks already.

You just handed her the cash and waved her goodbye, also giving the lady a basket with apples and peaches that grew in your garden. You don’t have enough people eating your fruits and most of it goes into jams anyways.

You waited a little until her car disappeared into the horizon of the bumpy road near your house, seeing as it even got blurry in the end, as the air was literally melting the reality in front of your eyes.

With a swift movement you adjusted a cap on your head, went out of the creaky gate - which green color was peeling off into the original black metal that it was made with - and closed it behind yourself with a happy hum.

It was a twenty minutes walk to the nearest convenience store and it gave you just enough time to ponder about the recent weird thing that happened to you.

About three days ago you just got a random payment come to your bank account.

15 Euros. That was it.

No note, no name.

You decided to let it be, even though it did stir your mind in various ways.

Normally, when something like this happens, the bank realises the mistake in the recipient and takes the money back within 24 hours.

Either the person who sent it didn’t care that it went to the wrong place or bank decided to be generous with you.

Whatever the reason was, those 15 Euros could be used now to buy yourself a little more sweets than you usually do.

You never had to complain about how little money you actually have from living here and being more or less self-sufficient, but some random extra cash will make anyone smile in this capitalistic hell that you tried so hard to escape from.

.

.

After you came home you started sorting out groceries that you’ve bought, putting them into the right places.

Upon finishing you just plopped yourself on the bench near the big abandoned table in the room, looking around.

This house used to be alive. With a lot of your family members running around, making noise, sometimes fighting, but always generally just enjoying the good time at this place.

At the end of the extended room was a window, showing you the rest of the garden that you lovingly cared for every single day.

Under the window was a spacious kitchen counter, with a fridge and shelves for ingredients next to it. Then there was the entrance to one of the unused bedrooms with one bed pushed against the wall, which in turn was covered by a red hanging carpet. On a wall, yes.

You stopped tracing the room around with your eyes as you heard some rummaging coming from the outside.

After easily springing to your feet you saw black dots in front of you and your head was spinning. Damn you, iron deficiency!

A few seconds passed and you were collected again, rushing out towards the gates to the property.

You stopped in your tracks as you saw five people literally barging through your piece of land with suitcases and bags, bickering with each other.

Oh, nope. They were six, actually. A very tiny figure closed the gate after all of them made it in and started clumsily going forward on a tiny tartan road that lead all the way to the summer house.

“Klaus, stop fucking pushing around and help me with the bags, maybe?” said a man with longer curly hair and a goatee, clearly agitated at another person, who wasn’t holding anything except some bottle in their hand.

“Oh cut it, you two! We’re almost in the house, come on,” said a woman with straight black hair in the flowery dress and then she noticed that someone blocks their way.

Her eyes landed on you.

“Um... hello?” she said with an awkward smile, attempting a wave in your direction and continued, “are you the owner? We booked your house until the rest of the summer like.. a few days ago.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open in the “o” shape, trying to grasp the reality.

So.... someone really booked your summer house after several years of no traction from booking and you had no clue.

That’s what the payment was for!

But..

“Oh,” you said, not knowing how to proceed about the situation, “well, you see.. um... I have nowhere to stay? This is my only home,” you started timidly, rubbing your hands together.

“Oh,” the woman seemed surprised and confused but quickly collected herself, “well, if you have enough beds to keep us all in then it’s no problem, I guess?”

“Yeah? Alright, great!” You smiled at the whole “squad” and looked at them all.

“Uhm.. my name is y/n! Welcome to my summer house, I guess,” you put your hands into the back pockets and shook your head a little into the direction of the house.

“Allison, nice to meet you,” the woman you talked to said, smiling invitingly.

“Diego,” almost spat the guy with the goatee.

“Klaus, darling,” said the person with the bottle in their hand, widening his arms in an invisible hug.

“Luther,” mumbled a big man in the back of them all.. he looked like he’s been through something.

Actually, they all do.

“Vanya,” chirped a girl behind the big- Luther, the corners of her lips lifting ever so lightly.

“Five,” said a child in the front, looking unusually angry, suddenly shortening the distance between the two of you, “as long as you’re out of our business you’re good to stay,” he literally sneered at you, pushing past you and going inside.

That left you kinda shook, but then Allison just apologised for “their brother”, so you decided to ask another question:

“So you’re all a family?”

“Yes, we’re all siblings. Adopted,” she said, actually following you inside, not as the little guy before who let himself in without even knowing the place.

“I think my place is not the best for so many people to sleep at though..” you said quietly, biting your lip.

“That’s why it was so cheap..” Luther wondered, looking around.

You had to calm yourself so you didn’t snap at your guest. You didn’t even know anyone would ever book your house, damn! What were you supposed to do?

In the end you spent some time showing them the rooms, starting with the first one that contained an old-fashioned sink and the water tank near it, which you needed to manually fill up with water, and the drain led to the bucket under it.

Very simple.

In the back of the room there was a dining table, on one side surrounded by the bench and the other with some mismatching chairs.

From this space you proceeded into the extended “hallway” that you stared at before your peace and quiet was ruined.

There was also an ancient literal furnace, on top of which you could actually lay on, you know, as in all the fairytales.

After that, there was another room entrance that contained two beds on each side (one of them pushed under the window), similar to the other room and a coffee table in the middle of the area.

When you all went back to the first place, there was a wooden staircase that led to the second floor.

There were two rooms. One had a king sized bed in the middle of the space, with a closet and various tables around the whole area.

The other one had a working table and a bed in the corner.

“And that is the end of the tour!” you proclaimed, as everyone got seated by the big table in the extended room, while you were making everyone tea and preparing some snacks.

“Great, I sleep on the furnace!” Klaus exclaimed, putting his hands in the air animatedly.

“I guess we can fit all of us in here, actually,” Allison was clearly thinking aloud, counting the members of the family and available sleeping places.

“You’re gonna take one of the beds, right?” she said, pointing at you.

“Uh.. yes! Upstairs, I think. The one with the small bed and a table,” you smiled at her and she nodded.

“Then I’ll be sleeping with Vanya in the king-sized bed and you guys can fight for who’s going to end up sharing the room,” Allison concluded, clearly enjoying herself.

“Funny of you to think I’ll have enough time to sleep, in our situation,” said Five, suddenly coming out from the doorframe into the room.

You didn’t even mention that he wasn’t there when you were explaining the plan of the house.

“What situation? There should always be time to sleep,” you chipped in, carefully smiling at the boy.

“Stay the fuck out of our business, I said,” he gritted through his teeth at you, which left you blinking in surprise as he went away again, out of sight.

“How... old is he again?” you asked with the confusion that a kid would be so rude to a stranger like this.

All of them kind of nervously laughed or mumbled something that you couldn’t understand.

“It’s complicated,” said Vanya, smiling at you reassuringly.

How the fuck an age of your own brother is complicated?..

You heard the fancy-looking woman - Allison - sigh heavily and turn to you, shrugging.

“It’s just.. when our parents adopted him, he freshly got into the orphanage so he didn’t even have any documents about his birthday, blood type or anything. Apparently, he was really abused by his biological parents. Or whoever else, we don’t even know.”

“Oh.. I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly, biting your lip. Didn’t expect to poke into any painful subjects.

“It’s okay, really, we’ve learned how to take proper care of him,” Allison said, putting her hand on your back with a smile.

When you excused yourself to continue with gardening and went outside, Allison just shook her head.

“Who says ‘it’s complicated’ when someone asks you about their sibling’s age, Vanya?” said Allison in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would settle the matter..” she muttered, playing with her fingers anxiously.

“It’s okay..” she smiled at her sister and then looked around the whole table, “look we’re here for the whole summer, so I think it would be better if we somehow told the owner at least partially about our powers so we’re not hiding all the time. We came here to have a safe space where we could train after all, am I right?” she looked expectantly at Luther who immediately started nodding along, agreeing.

“Or maybe,” started saying Klaus, already getting up from his seat and trying to crawl onto the furnace, skinny legs already dangling in the air, “we can just tell them we’re the umbrella academy, don’t you think?” he concluded, facing a wall with his face.

“But we checked that the umbrella academy doesn’t exist in this universe.. nor any other replacement of us,” reminded her siblings Vanya, fingers still intertwined on the table, firmly put together.

“I’m sure we’ll tell them one way or another,” said Diego, getting up just like his brother, making his way a bit further though, his objective clearly being the fridge.

He opened it and smirked at the beer present there, taking one can with him. His eyes then wondered to the window at the end of the room and he stepped closer, inspecting what is outside.

Apparently it was still their new home’s property, as he saw y/n working in the garden, repotting some plants under the tree.

His gaze stayed on them as he thought about various topics in his head, but then he decided to go out of the house, jumping down the wooden stairs leading to the tartan road, framing the whole garden.

You heard steps behind you, turning your head away from the the plants, only to meet a tall man in front of you, with a can in his hand.

“Hey, uhm..” he nervously put his hand on his neck, scratching it, “I just wanted to ask if it’s cool if I take some beer from the fridge?” he lifted the other hand with the mentioned item, giving it a little shake.

“It’s cool,” you replied, smiling softly at him, and then getting back to work, grabbing the plant by the root, moving it to another hole in the ground.

“Okay..” he retorted, biting his lower lip and scanned the area with his dark eyes.

There was an abandoned greenhouse with broken walls, greenery growing all around it, just next to the fence of the property. To its left was a wooden toilet booth with a typical round-shaped hole in the higher part of the door.

“I’m really sorry, by the way,” you started talking again, now finally done with your objective of the day, now plopping yourself next to Diego on the bench that he was chilling at, the surface creaking from the added weight, “I really thought nobody would *ever* rent this place,” you shrugged with a smile, now looking in front of yourself, closing your eyes and letting sunshine illuminate your face.

“Well.. uh.. then why did you put up on that website anyways?” he asked, clear confusion in his voice.

You sighed, shifting your body a little, getting into more comfortable sitting position, “It was a bet I made with my friends back in the day. A few years ago they told me I could actually rent this place and get income from it, not having to work a day in my life! Yet i told them that it’s not possible, and I wanted to prove that I was right by putting the advertisement,” you finished, finally opening your eyes, tilting your head at your new acquaintance.

You caught him staring at you, so he quickly turned away, now getting quite a violent sip out of the beer can.

“You should’ve put some timing on that bet then.. Let’s say, if it doesn’t get traction after two years you’ll finally delete the posting,” he said, after gulping some liquid.

That made you laugh and you couldn’t look away from him. His features were so.. delicate.

“Yeah, you’re actually right!” you admitted, slapping your thighs in excitement.

“Diego, my precious brother!” you two suddenly heard from the entrance to the house.

You lifted your eyes and saw a slender confide getting closer to you both, the man walking barefoot.

“Five said we’re all needed for a ‘family meeting’,” the guy literally put an air quotes with his free hand that wasn’t holding a glass, saying it in the mockingly serious tone, “so you better come with me and stop bothering this lovely person, alright?” he then proceeded sweetly, extending a hand towards Diego with a wide smile.

“God.. alright,” he answered and to your surprise took his hand, now brothers going away into the house, Diego briefly looking back at you, “Let’s talk later.”

You just nodded, finding yourself still smiling long before they were gone.

What is this funny feeling in the pit of your stomach?..

And why is one of their family members called by a number instead of a name?!

.

.

It was only the second day of your coexistence with the Hargreeves but it was already a wild ride.

Normally your morning looked like this;

You would wake up at a reasonable hour, maybe like.. 9am. You would go down the stairs from your room and make yourself some breakfast. While eating you’d either read a book or just listen to some music from your phone.

Then you’d do daily tasks, so taking care of the garden or some house maintenance, or both.

Then you’d do everything special that needs to be done only once in a while: a meeting with a friend, grocery shopping, attending a meeting with your neighbours where you decide on further upgrades of the village.

Then you’d draw some commissions, if there were any and after all of this you’d have late lunch that normally turned into dinner, concluding your day with doing your hobbies or rarely taking out your laptop and browsing the internet.

“Rise and shiiine!” you heard somewhere from downstairs, for some reason that person was also ringing a bell, making you immediately sit up in your bed.

You turned your head towards the mirror that hung across your sleeping space on the wall and you could see your hair standing up in different directions, cowlick upon cowlick.

You also felt tired, kind of not used to that feeling and shifted your half-closed eyes to the alarm clock near you.

It was... a bit past 7am. Who are those people to wake up that early?!

You lazily got up from the bed, yawning and stretching your arms up, feeling a few cracks here and there.

“Good morning!” first half of the sentence was muffled by the closed door to your room, but that quickly changed as it burst open, Klaus marching right in, his voice now uncomfortably loud for your sleepy ears, “I thought it would be nice to have breakfast all together and make you feel a part of the family, wouldn’t it?” he said with a genuine smile, looking at you.

You were sitting on your bed in pyjamas, hair all over the place, most unamused expression on the face, eyes half opened.

“Not a morning person?” he mused, tilting his head at you, “well, feel free to join or sleep more, I wouldn’t judge,” he continued and you saw in literal slow motion as he lifted his hand with a bell in hand, shaking it hard as he marched out of your room just in the same manner as he came in just seconds ago.

“BREAKFAST!!” he yelled with at least two octaves lower at his siblings, still ringing the bell that now was resonating in your brain in a highest pitch possible, making your head hurt.

Great morning.

But despite the general morning grumpiness you did find it endearing that Klaus decided to include you in their activities, making you feel less alone and - quite funnily - welcomed in your own house.

You slowly went down the stairs, hearing the lower floor full of different voices and it made your heart clench. You immediately thought of your family that made it feel alive like this in the past and a warm smile appeared on your face, as the Hargreeves huddled up around the smaller table in the room you descended from the stairs into, all making your appearance feel natural.

“Good morning,” you passed Luther that nodded in your direction alongside the phrase, as you went into the bigger room, seeing Allison cooking by the stove, window open.

“Oh hey, you’re up,” she said with a smile, “can you pass me some milk?” she asked, extending her hand into the air, already expecting said item.

“Sure!!” you hurriedly opened the fridge, giving her the thing she requested and she continued cooking.

You slowly looked around, seeing a blanket and some different things like cigarette boxes and teddy bears on top of the furnace, which made you realise that someone from the family has clearly claimed it to be their place for sleeping and you found it adorable.

“You can go sit with the others, I’ll bring it all in when it’s ready, Allison said, adjusting her black hair so it didn’t get in the way of preparing food.

“Oh.. okay!” you chirped, with a smile going back to the first room, and finding an empty seat between Diego and Klaus.

You almost sat already when Klaus sprang to his feet and took you by the shoulders, making you freeze on the spot, eyes wide.

“Klaus?” you asked, confused, “is that seat taken?”

“By Allison,” Diego quickly responded before his brother had any chance to and then the skinny man sat back on his chair, nodding with an awkward smile on his face.

“Yes, exactly. Sorry y/n,” he sighed and shrugged, clearly playing along Diego’s words, but you just let it go.

Instead you sat next to Luther, whom already opened his mouth but Vanya looked at him with a forced smile, raising a brow. At that, the big guy closed his mouth again, without making a sound.

Something.. is weird here. You shifted a bit in your seat, biting your lower lip.

The kid wasn’t here at all, you just noticed.

Then finally Allison came with the food and your anxiety lessened, as everyone started cheering for wonderful pancakes that she made.

She already wanted to sit on the seat that the guys told you was reserved for her, when suddenly Klaus did the same to her as he did to you.

“Klaus,” Diego hissed in a low voice.

Allison just looked at her brother, expression just as confused as yours was.

“What?” Allison deadpanned, putting a hand to her hip.

There was a brief second of silence until Klaus just burst into an emotional speech.

“Look, I know we’re all pretending that we’re normal in front of y/n but you all know that Ben always sits next to me and he’s sitting here right now, yet you all wanna make it seem like he doesn’t exist? I’m sorry that he’s a ghost, I’m sure he didn’t want to die either!” then after a moment he added, “Right, brother dear?” looking at an empty space near him.

Your brain clearly wasn’t catching up to what was just being said.

Pretending to be normal?..

“Great. Just fucking great, Klaus. I bet Ben would move, understanding the situation!” Allison waved her hands at him and the chair next to him with an annoyed voice.

“We just blew our cover, guys,” said Diego with pursed lips, looking absentmindedly at the table filled with food.

Soon enough they all started arguing and only when there was a sudden blue light in the room, and the kid appeared literally out of the thin air in front of your eyes, everyone fell silent, looking at him.

“Guys, I just did a search around the neighbourhood and—“ his blue eyes met with yours, full of shock and denial of what you just saw, “shit.”

He clicked his tongue and frowned and that was positively the last thing you remember before losing consciousness, everything around you turning black.

Too much of supernatural for one morning, that’s for sure.

Precious taglist:  @radcloudenthusiast​,  @spacenerdpascal​

NEXT PART→

[etherealwaifgoddess]

One In A Million - Chpt.10

Summary: Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, you can finally start planning out your future with the guys.

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This is it, the last chapter! I feel like it’s gone so fast but here we are. The epilogue will be going up next so stay tuned. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Ten

Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, your job in the typing pool seems just a little more mundane. It was fine for the interim while you were just biding time before going back, but now you can’t possibly see yourself doing this for the next forty years. The only problem is, you don’t have your degree in this time and you most likely won’t be able to get a job in a lab even if you did. Money isn’t a problem compliments of your supposed Sparrow status with the SSR but you don’t want to live off of that forever. You want to do something, anything, to keep busy. You’re daydreaming, walking the quiet early morning streets of Brooklyn when it comes to you. Or rather, you come to it.

Science was your first love and always would be, but your second love was books. When you stumble across the public library you can’t help but go inside. Public libraries are the same no matter what decade you’re in. The long, tall rows of books, the musty scent of paper thick in the air, children and adults alike lost in their reading. It’s comforting and reminds you of your childhood. You approach the harried looking girl at the main desk with a smile. “Excuse me. Hi. I’d like to get a library card, please.” you tell her.

The girl looks up through thick rimmed glasses with a smile of her own. “Sure, I just need you to fill out this slip and I’ll get you set up.” she hands you a three by five card for your name and address and you scrawl your information down for her. It dawns on you that you’ll never get to use your real name again. You’ll forever be Rose Rogers now and while there’s a small pang of loss for your old name, you could do a lot worse than being Mrs. Rogers. Handing your card back to the girl she files it quickly into the rolodex that houses everyone’s information. You stifle your laugh at how archaic it seems compared to the ease of saving information on a computer. 

The girl hands you a card with your name filled out on it and yawns loudly before she can get out a tired, “Here you go.”

“Long day?” you ask sympathetically. 

“The longest. Doreen had her baby and now she’s not coming back so we’re all working doubles trying to pick up the slack. We don’t even have anyone for the children's story time tomorrow now. It’s a mess.” 

“Are you looking to replace her? I used to volunteer at the library in school so I’m familiar with the Dewey Decimal System. I moved here not too long ago and I’m looking for work.” 

“Really? That would be amazing. Can you come back tomorrow to meet with Mr. Cooper? He runs the place and will be the one who has final say, but if you know what the Dewey Decimal is I’m sure he’ll take you. Most girls coming in take forever to train.” 

“Sure, what time?”

The girl, whose name you learn is Lorna, checks the calendar in the back and then gives you a time frame to stop by in. She promises to give her boss a heads up that you’re coming in so hopefully he’s expecting you. Lorna jokes that she’ll put in a good word for you too since you seem a heck of a lot nicer than Doreen ever was.

You want to tell the guys about your potential new job but also don’t want to jinx anything. Your supervisor at the SSR is kind and lets you take an early lunch for a “doctor’s appointment” so that you can run across town to meet Mr. Cooper at the library. After you explain your experience, you really did volunteer at your high school’s library, he hires you on the spot, offering for you to start the following week. You feel guilty going back to the office to put in your notice and wonder if this means the bank account you were given will be retracted when you quit. There’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach when you wonder if your new job will pay enough to keep you afloat the way you have been. It’ll be tighter for sure but you do the math quickly in your head and think it should all work out. 

You pop into Agent Wilson’s office when you get back to the office, wanting to rip the band-aid off rather than worrying about what if’s. 

“Rose, good to see you again.” Wilson stands to greet you as you step into his office.

“You as well, Agent Wilson.” you reply shaking his hand.

“And to what do I owe this visit? Is the reception pool treating you well?”

“Very well sir, thank you. But about that actually. I’ve found another job that’s more aligned with my career goals. I’ve been given the opportunity to be a librarian and it’s closer to where my husband and I moved. I know I was set up here due to my… status, but I’ll be staying in Brooklyn and would like to set up a real life here. I understand if you’ll need the funds back from the account I was given and I have a personal check here so you can access and close the account. I haven’t used all that much so far.” 

“Rose, Rose, slow down a minute. The SSR takes care of its assets even when they choose to leave the life. You were never obligated to stay here after declaring Sparrow protocol. The account is yours, we cut ties to the funds as soon as identities are handed out, we have no desire to take that security from you. I’m happy for you, that you’ve made a life here. Most girls don’t re-acclimate as easily and it’s a blessing when they do. I hope you’ll stop by from time to time to say hello.” 

“I will, thank you sir. Truly, thank you.” 

“It’s no trouble at all. Just let Marge know you’re moving on, she’ll understand. And take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, you too.” You shake Agent Wilson’s hand once again and head out into the more brightly lit main office. 

Marge and the girls are sad to see you go and you offer to stay on until the end of the week so as not to leave them in the lurch. Marge insists you’re free to go whenever but the girls plan a goodbye party for you for Friday. 

Steve is home when you get back, Bucky will be along in another hour but you can’t wait to share your good news. Steve is over the moon for you, though he does admit he wishes you had told them you weren’t happy in the typing pool. They would have encouraged you to find something new sooner like you and Bucky had done for him when he took the job at the paper. Never one to miss an opportunity to celebrate, Steve goes down the block under the guise of getting a loaf of bread to go with dinner. He comes back with bread and glossy chocolate cake, Congratulations written in cursive on top in bright white lettering. You’re kissing Steve and giggling when Bucky finally comes home, tired and worn out from his day. 

“What’s all this then?” he asks, setting his coat on the hook by the door. 

“Our girl has some really great news, Buck.” Steve tells him, a hand still around your waist.

You hold the cake up to show him the writing on top with a smile. 

Bucky’s face crumples, shock and hope and awe flickering across it as he crosses the room to the two of you. You can’t figure out what has him so moved until he presses his rough palms against your belly. “Rose?” he croaks through a tight throat.

“Oh!” you gasp, realizing what he was thinking. “No, no, not that. I’m sorry for scaring you. We probably should have been clear right off the bat. I got a new job. I’m going to be a librarian starting next week.” 

The light in Bucky’s eyes dims for a second before he can rally himself to be excited for you. “That’s wonderful, darlin’. I’m so proud of you. I always thought you were too smart to be sitting around in a typing pool anyway.” 

“Thanks, baby. Dinner is almost ready, why don’t you go wash up?” 

Bucky gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes and heads off to the bedroom to change. 

You look to Steve who looks as thrown off as you are. “He’ll be okay.” Steve assures you, giving you a quick hug, “Let’s go finish up.” he takes your hand and leads you back to the kitchen where you fall back into an easy rhythm preparing dinner for the three of you. 

The celebratory air of dinner is somehow dimmed by Bucky’s reaction to your news. You had never really put much thought into a family of your own. It makes sense that Bucky would want one, he came from a large, loving family after all. And in this era, men are taught to aspire to having a wife and family of their own. Your birth control shot was up to date when you left but it should have run out a month or two ago. Now that you’re thinking about it, it’s sheer luck that you aren’t pregnant by now and you make a mental note to be more careful going forward. You can’t exactly get a Depo booster in the ‘40s and the birth control pill won’t even be invented for another eight years. You’ll just have to time your cycle and be careful going forward. Unless. Unless you don’t want to be. Images of a little boy with floppy blonde hair and bright blue eyes comes to mind, followed by a little girl with chestnut curls and wide grey-blue eyes. You could have that, if you wanted. If they wanted. You’d never thought to ask until now, and now that you have, the questions are burning bright in your chest. 

The three of you are sitting in the living room when you finally can’t stand it anymore. “We need to talk about this.” you announce, setting down your book. Steve looks up from his sketch pad, startled.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” Bucky sighs setting aside his crossword puzzle. “It was your big night and I’ve ruined it by bein’ dumb.” 

“You’ve done no such thing.” you scold him lightly, “But your face when you thought. Well. When you thought I was pregnant. Baby, is that something you want? Because if it is, we have to talk about this.” 

“It’s not right for me to ask you to-”

“James Buchanan Barnes.” you cut him off, “We are all adults here. You are not asking me for a damn thing. We need to be able to talk about what we want, all of us. That includes you, Steve. If we all want the same thing then great, if we don’t then we need to talk it out and come to an agreement. Now, let’s start over. Bucky, do you want to have a baby with me?”

Bucky’s jaw drops, stunned by your outburst and the frankness of which you’re talking about things. “God,” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “Of course I do. The idea of seeing you all full up with a baby, our baby. It kills me, darlin’. I’d have as many little chubby babies runnin’ around here as we could stand. Maybe a few little bratty blonde ones too.” he gives Steve a smirk and Steve visibly pales.

“Stevie, honey, what’s wrong?” you ask, worried.

“No, I can’t. I won’t. You know how often I get sick and how bad it can get. Believe it or not, it was worse when I was a kid. I was on death’s door more times than I can count. Nothing about my body has ever worked the way it should, why would I want to put some poor kid through all that too? Of course I want a little baby with your eyes and my smile, but what kind of life am I setting it up for when it’s half me? I couldn’t bear it.” 

“Stevie, no.” Bucky croaks, rushing over to him and lifting him off of his chair. Bucky slides into his seat, pulling Steve onto his lap so he can hold him tightly, tears shining bright in his eyes. “You would be the most amazing papa to any kid. And our girl is strong, who says your kids would have even one of the problems you had? They might be all her and only get your sass. We can’t know for sure.” 

“He’s right.” you chime in, “We wouldn’t know for sure if a baby of ours would have your health issues. And even if they did, medicine is getting better every day. They wouldn’t necessarily have such a rough time even if they did have issues. Be honest, honey. Do you want a baby with me?”

Steve thinks for a long moment, giving into the warmth radiating from Bucky. “I don’t think I need it to be my own. I want a baby with you, but if it’s Bucky’s I’d be just as happy if it were my own. And then we wouldn’t have to worry about it being sick like me.” 

“You’re always so worried about us, what about you?” Bucky asks you. 

“I never really thought I’d have a family but I think I want one now, with you two. Not saying right now. I’d like to hold off a little while so we can enjoy it just being the three of us for a bit, but someday. Yeah. It might be nice to have a few little kids running around.” 

“Let’s give it a year.” Steve suggests, “We’ll take the time to get you settled at your new job and start saving up. Maybe take a vacation too while it’s just us. Then next year we can decide if we want to try or hold off. I’ll go with you to the doctor’s if you want one of those diaphragms. Or me and Buck could start buying rubbers. Whatever you want. We probably should’a thought of this sooner.” 

“It’s okay, I wasn’t thinking about it either. Condoms are easier and I can track things so we’d only have to use them when I’m fertile.” 

“Whatever you want, doll.” Steve assures you, getting up from his spot on Bucky’s lap and joining you on the sofa to pull you in for a long hug.

“All I want is you. Both of you.” you whisper against his neck. 

Bucky is silent as a ghost as he slips in on your other side so you’re sandwiched between your guys. You can’t help but be relieved that the conversation was easier than you expected. It’s hard to believe Steve is so fearful of his DNA being passed along but it makes sense after everything he’s battled in his life. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind but you’re not going to push him. 

Leaving the girls at the typing pool is bittersweet. You exchange addresses and phone numbers so you can stay in touch and promise to host a girl’s night as soon as you can. You’re surprised to realize that you really had made a few good friends at the SSR and that you’ll miss the community of your little group. 

Your first day of work at the library proves to be easier than you expected. A grey haired woman named Agnes gives you a tour before training you on the rolodex and their filing system. It’s more complicated than scanning things into a computerized system but at least it’s easy to understand. Checking in and out books takes a few minutes of finding people’s cards and logging their books, stamping each with a due date before handing them back. No one seems to mind though, happily chatting with you while you log their books. Agnes explains that Doreen, who apparently no one will miss, used to lead the children’s story time on Monday mornings. Agnes claims her arthritis acts up making it hard to hold the books up for too long so you’re given the task going forward. You can’t really complain, the children are eager and sweet, cheering when you do funny voices and build suspense. 

By the end of the day you’re already planning improvements for the library. You’ve caught on quickly and couldn’t help but notice a few improvements that would help. You worry about rocking the boat, being so new, but Agnes encourages you to have at it. She claims they haven’t changed a thing since Grover Cleveland was in office. You spend your first week making small adjustments to make everyone’s lives easier. It’s not too much, just rearranging the main desk a little, decorating the children’s area to make it more cheery, setting out books to feature on the end caps of isles to draw people in. 

Your second week you decide to start deep cleaning. There’s always two of you there at the same time and the other women, most of them closer to Agnes’ age than yours, are content to sit behind the desk all day while you put books back and tidy up. You run around one Tuesday afternoon with a duster, going over every surface in the whole library. The next morning you attack the tall windows with newspapers and ammonia. You pick up a bottle of Murphy’s oil at the corner drug store and spend two days rubbing down every bit of wood in the place. By the end of that week you’re exhausted but happy and the library has never looked better. The other girls are still chattering the next week about much better it looks and how even the patrons are commenting. Mr. Cooper is apparently fretting that you’re too good for them and won’t last long there. You assure them you’re happy and plan on being there for the long haul. 

Steve and Bucky both notice a difference in you when you come home tired and sweaty at night. Bucky jokes they could use you down at the docks with how hard you work. They both comment on how much happier you seem and you agree with them. Working with books is much more fulfilling than typing all day. You want to expand their children’s program to twice a week, story time on Mondays and a craft time on Thursdays. You spend your free time at work putting together a plan to present to Mr. Cooper for permission. The library as it is now is nice, but it could be so much more. You want it to be a haven for the community, the way yours was growing up. You could coordinate study nights with the local schools and host literacy nights for adults who never had a chance to learn. Bucky and Steve listen as you ramble about the plans you have and exchange knowing smiles. You’re happier now than they’ve ever seen you and it seems your career change was exactly what you needed to really thrive. And you are thriving now, shockingly more than you think you ever did in modern times. You’ve found your place back time with your guys and your community. 

By the time your jump point comes it’s easier than you expected to write the letter to your team. You tell them you’ve found happiness, a new career, and a love that triumphs all. You apologize for disrupting the timeline and explain that you’re certain there’s not steering it back on course. The slight over shooting of the jump date and your suggestions on what adjustments are needed to make the calibrations more precise are included as well. You make a list of everything you think might be useful for the research and let them know where the rest of your notes are kept in your desk. You don’t know what will be helpful to them and if they can’t have you, they can at least have your notes. You whip up a batch of brownies for the typing pool girls, an easy ploy to gain access to the inside of the SSR office so you can get downstairs in time. It’s with a guilty conscience that you chase a mouse around the trash bin out back, needing something to put the note and brooch on. You fashion the poor little field mouse a bow out of one of your ribbons, clipping the brooch to the back and the folded up letter as well. Thankfully the poor thing is too frightened to put up much of a fight and you stash the little guy in your pocketbook. 

The girls at the typing pool are thrilled to see you when you show up with the pan of brownies. The container is quickly emptied and you beg off to go wash it and say hello to one of the receptionists before leaving. You have six minutes to get set up. Quietly as you can, you slip down to the basement, setting up your jump point and counting down softly to the poor little mouse who’s trembling in your hand. You adjust it’s bow, note, and brooch one last time before sitting it down and activating the transport. The gemstone on the brooch flashes, once, twice, and a third time, the mouse holding blessedly still out of fright. You’re scarcely able to breathe until the white glow starts up and in a bright flash the mouse is gone. A few tears slip out despite yourself, silently wishing the little mouse well in the 21st century. You hope your team carries on their work and goes on to do even more great things. A part of you will always miss them but you know you’re where you’re meant to be. 

You wipe your eyes, sniffling back the rest of your tears, and head back upstairs to say goodbye to the girls before you have to get to work across town at the library. It’s craft day for the kids and you’re going to be teaching them how to make hand print flowers. The craft is certain to be messy, creative, and loads of fun. 

The bright early summer sun blinds you as you step outside onto the bustling city sidewalk and it hits you. This is your life now. There is no last chance to take it back anymore. You are permanently living in this time with your guys, and your job, and your new friends. You take a deep breath of balmy city air and know you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz​

[worldcakecakecake]

On Deutschland and Italia, by Lovino Valenti

Lovino writes a series of blog entries on the relationship between Germany and Italy as he deals with a move to Hamburg, his brother’s wedding, and his budding romance (which he denies) to the infuriating Gilbert Beilschmidt.

                                                              Chapter 8

Lately they had been in a texting spree. They were wishing each other ‘Buon Giorno’ and ‘Guten Morgen’, asking about their day at work, promising to text back on a break or when done. They would strike topics on the news, what they were planning to eat, even sending each other memes that had them grinning or laughing at their phone. Feliciano had never seen his brother so tight on his phone…he had barely talked to him or even spared a word, despite how he was excited to spend some time to chat.

 They were currently purchasing Feliciano’s wedding suit, fixed with the changes they wanted and ready to take home. Feliciano moved his hands over the cover it was kept in lovingly, excited to soon feel its magic and reign him well on his wedding day. Lovino was still on his phone, grinning the entire time and now Gilbert must have written something sweet since he witnessed his brother heavily blushing, trying hard to cover it with his hands, but it was too large and Feliciano had already spotted it anyways.

 “What did he say?” He teased, leaning with a smirk, eager and expecting.

 Lovino moved the phone away from his vision. “Nothing you should be looking at.”

 “Is he already sending you nudes?”

 “Oh god, no! Just keep out of it.”

 Feliciano chuckled, Signore Ferrara arriving with documents needed to be signed on warranty and any other receipts. They found themselves conversing, the old man wondering about this coming wedding and of course Feliciano adored filling him in on it. Lovino would add his input between glances on his phone. Cards were given to pay, Lovino looking to make sure Feliciano gave him the right one. It was just as Feliciano was sent his own message, a sort of billing number…from the Dominican Republic. Feliciano looked through it quick, but in that instant, Lovino managed a side glance to notice that it was about a fulfilled payment concerning something to do with their new house surely. Lovino wouldn’t have bothered…if it wasn’t for the fact that a bank account and number that belonged to Feliciano was being used. Shouldn’t Ludwig be the one doing that? It was his company that was in charge of that move…the reason why Feliciano was even leaving with him, his own job but volunteering. Why would Feliciano have to give such a big payment? He shut his phone and focused back on Signore Ferrara, now talking on something he did for one of his ex-wife’s wedding, Feliciano looking up with a non-perturbed smile and eager to hear.

 “Have you chosen the suit for the best man?” The man wondered.

 “Gilbert and I will come one of these days to choose. We’ll surely get it here,” Lovino decided, raising his eyes from a text message he had written the albino about the plans he just told.

 The owner smiled and was eager to see them again. “Well, it’s all yours now,” he declared, handing the last of the papers, now the wrapped suit ready to be embraced, as it was now fully Feliciano’s.

 He cuddled the damn thing, like it was some sort of puppy.

 They wished their goodbyes and they were on course to Feliciano’s apartment, the younger blabbering on already wearing and strutting for their whole family to see in preparation. It was not before Lovino wrote one last message: ‘Something is going on. We definitely have to talk.’

  On Deutschland and Italia.

Trading goods.

Looking for answers.

 Trade has always been very good for Germany and Italy. We are actually Germany’s most important trade partner, with a rather large percentage at that. We give them machines, cars, iron, steel and even feed them with our food. They are the first we give our imports to, and although it is not the same for us, we still receive a just amount of their own goods in cars and machinery. German milk tends to be used for cheese manufacturing in Italy, while Germany gets half of their entire fruits and vegetables from Italy. It continues to grow and perhaps one day Germany could easily become our own best trade partner in cars, medicine or construction. It’s balanced and reciprocal.

 Sadly, we are constantly told that we have to be as productive and hardworking as our German partners. It kind of annoys me that no matter, it is never enough. Yet here we are, still thriving. Now all we need to be prepared is for a soon coming digital economy…which the Germans are already beating us at.

 But they don’t really have all the cards in the industrial world as they say they have, for many German companies are riddled with bankruptcies and corruption as much as Italy, while there are actually many singular Italian individuals succeeding and bringing glory to the companies they work in. Sometimes were so successful we might even end up paying large loans for our suspicious fiancés.

 Did I make too obvious who I’m talking about? Okay, I am not entirely sure what’s going on and it’s all just confusing, but I will get to the bottom of this, using the help of someone I never thought I would use it from and expose Ludwig’s treachery!

 There is still time to save my little brother!

  They met happily, with strong handshakes and speaking on plans for the day. They were quick in choosing and buying their suits, leaving the store in exactly two hours, with a free day that they could spend well together. They had lunch in a fine restaurant talking of music. Gilbert already made plans for dinner and so they decided on a stroll across the city, passing the time in chats and pointing the beauty on the things they passed.

 “-but Christmas will always be better in Italy for me.”

 “Really? Our Christmas markets are not festive enough for you? Do I have to bring some Pandoro or Panettone? Less Glühwein maybe?” Gilbert feigned insult.

 “No!” Lovino chuckled with a glare that didn’t hold its usual spite. The grin he had was beautiful enough that it had Gilbert falling back to their easy pace. “I’m not a fan of either of those cakes anyways…I prefer a good Struffoli.”

 “Then I’ll get you some!”

 “They never make it as good as they can do it in Naples.”

 “I’ll get a whole array of Neapolitans to make it here.”

 “Where would you even get them from?”

 “I don’t know, the black market?”

 Lovino never thought he would laugh so much with Gilbert, never thought he’d see him so beautiful, to want to be closer, hint enough in the glance he gave to his arms, as if in them was enough call.

 How Gilbert wanted him against him…out of all the moments to get nervous and let his highly boasted confidence crumble.

 “Oh um…” he raised a hand with the intention, but in the end, it was shoved in his front pockets in fear. Lovino tried to hide his disappointment. “…you mentioned wanting to talk about something…unless that something was struffoli and you just wanted to convince someone to illegally transport hundreds of boxes.”

 “It’s about Feliciano and Ludwig.”

 “What about them? …unless you have new ideas of sabotaging their wedding, but come on, I thought we decided were not going to make it worst for them anymore.”

 “No! It’s not that! It’s more specifically about a message I saw on Feliciano’s phone and how he refuses to tell me anything when I ask.”

 “Message? What message?”

 “It was from a bank, something about house money…a large amount of money that he put from his own account.”

 Gilbert was not understanding. “So…he’s…paying bills?”

 “He’s not supposed to.” Lovino stopped them to stare at the river, leaning over the brick, alone and private. “Ludwig is in charge of it. Ludwig is in charge of absolutely everything that has to do with moving to Santo Domingo. Feliciano shouldn’t be paying a single cent in it.”

 “I mean, you can’t completely let Ludwig pay for absolutely everything.”

 “Not a house payment! That was supposed to be fixed from his company. If Feliciano had to pay for it…then it means something is wrong.”

 “He could have been paying something else.”

 “I know what I saw…”

 They lay in silence as they thought it, finding reasons and then calm in the current of this river.

 “And…what do we do about it?”

 “Find out what’s going on clearly. Any ideas?”

 “Well…my genius mind has something quite clear.” Lovino raised an eye. “We could just…ask the company itself,” Gilbert shrugged, pointing in the distance to the large red and white DB. “If something is going on, they’ll know,” Gilbert instilled, determined as ever.

 Lovino was suddenly fearful, that large sign seeming to look down at him intensely.  “Do you think they’ll tell us?”

 “I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but they’ll give us something.”

 Lovino sighed and set course, Gilbert not minding on following behind.

  It was getting late, most workers were surely on their way back home, even the receptionist at the front was packing everything to leave. The timetable at the desk still mentioned these were working hours, if even only a couple of minutes were left. They both hated to be those rude visitors, but they hoped it would be quick.

 “Guten abend, how can I help you?” She introduced, doing well to hide whatever annoyance.

 “Yes, we’re hoping you can tell us about a Ludwig Beilschmidt working here,” Lovino asked.

 “Ah, he’s the one who’s bringing the company to the Dominican Republic.”

 “Yes! Is it possible you can tell us the state of that venture?”

 “That depends. Who are you to ask?”

 Lovino was left blank, but Gilbert acted quick, in his idea fulfilling his wish of holding Lovino, pulling him, an arm around his waist, proclaiming an idea. Lovino was left stunned and blushing in silence. “Sorry, my boyfriend was just asking for me, I was a bit unsure. Uh, Ludwig Beilschmidt is my brother. I’m Gilbert Beilschmidt…I just want to check something for my family, he told me himself it’s all right.”

 “All right then, let me do a quick check here then.” She focused on typing the necessary information on the computer, focused on not noticing the grimace Lovino sent, surely blaring questions, but Gilbert only smirked and winked, instilling to keep themselves this way to make things easier and get their answers. Lovino looked away, pretending he wasn’t swimming in that comfort, hiding a smile, wanting the lady to take her sweet time checking, just so he could stay in that closeness, in the held of that arm for as long as possible. Gilbert took the opportunity to lean himself into the delectable scent of his hair, liking how well he fitted in his chest. He definitely didn’t need to rub his fingers as sweetly as he did on his waist, but it got a little hum from Lovino that Gilbert grinned more to in wanting.

 “Everything is set for him to leave to the Dominican Republic. As I assume you know, he’ll be starting his own branch without the company.”

 “Danke- wait, what? Without the company?” In his surprise, Gilbert let go of Lovino, leaning more for answers.

 The receptionist was rather astounded, but she followed on, “yes. His section is filling for bankruptcy and they cannot afford to start a new base in the Caribbean. He offered to start it up himself. We’ll be giving him some help with contact and location, but the rest he’ll have to do himself.”

 “What are you offering him.”

 “Just contacts and information.”

 “No house payment? No reimbursements? Travel or aid?”

 “I’m afraid not. That will come from his own pocket and investments.”

 “Couldn’t you have offered for him to stay?” Gilbert questioned on.

 “I’m afraid he would have no position here. Everything was settled for him to leave. We really did not have anything open for him to come back to.”

 In their surprise they lay in heavy silence, fretful and agitated, remaining as they truly tried to understand what was going on. The receptionist did look like she wanted to leave, so they wished their goodbyes, now late enough to head to their dinner place, a steakhouse that Lovino didn’t bother to comment on its tackiness as his thoughts were still swimming with the recent news.

 The restaurant had low lighting, they were secluded, their table small so they could lean closer to one another, yet nothing was settled to move on to romance. They sat feeling betrayed, with questions and worries for their little brothers.

 “If I recall, Feliciano’s position is just volunteering?”

 “Yep.”

 “So, he’s not getting paid.”

 “Yep.”

 Gilbert groaned, “then how the hell are they going to work with nothing?”

 “Well,” Lovino shrugged, “Feli does have his savings from what he’s working on the hospital now, plus he paints and sells.”

 “Ludwig has his own savings, you know. I’m sure it’s enough to get started without depending heavily on what Feliciano has.”

 “There’s also the large wedding they have to pay for.” With a 10,000 budget that…they helped to place.

 Now the regret was inking heavy on them.

 “It’s still really unfair that Feliciano has to pay from his own pocket for something that was meant to be Ludwig’s.”

 “They’re getting married, isn’t this the kind of thing married couples do. Did they at least decide this together?”

 “I don’t know… Feliciano hasn’t said anything.”

 “We have to get them to talk then…I really doubt Ludwig would decide on something so brash and use somebody else’s money like that.”

 “And I don’t want to think Feliciano is dumb enough to accept a dependence so large as that.”

 “We’ll see. You go to Feli, I go to Lud, we’ll report back.” How like a mission it sounded, but Lovino agreed as obedient as a soldier. “Now, can we actually focus on our evening?” It was like an awakening that made Lovino realize where he was siting, the dim lighting that he dared say was romantic…with Gilbert. All of a sudden, he found himself reddened, nervous and without new words to say. “Oh, have I left you speechless? That’s all right, it is to be expected in my presence.”

 Lovino scoffed, “I was realizing the stupid decision I got myself in.”

 “It was one of your best decisions really.”

 How Lovino wanted to shout well to the restaurant: ‘Yes!’ But he only smirked, that charming grin that had Gilbert without a remark to Lovino’s silence, the gracious way he picked his drink and sipped. Once done, the conversation was switched on next holiday plans and locations, other chats to drown the night, turning their presence more beautiful and more of an aching each time they had to wish goodbye.

  On Deutschland and Italia.

Germany is war, Italy is love.

 With the catholic seat in Italy, the protestant movements began in Germany, creating the first division of Christianity, a long trail of divide in our continent that has cost the life of millions. Italy has had a long history of invasions from the Germans, from barbaric and creating the fall of Rome, to attacks of religion and territory, in fires, murdering, rapes and destruction. Yet with the rise of Romanticism, Italy became Germany’s inspiration with literary beauties, a show of love that perhaps give us a chance to think of peace. The faith that the world wars brought made it unlikely once again.

 There is repulsion and attraction between us, never meant to settle on a single line. Sometimes it’s like were doomed to never really have that tranquility that would be ideal for this union of Europe.

 Italy’s nature is to love, Germany’s nature is to resist, it’s not meant to mix and become something greater.

 I really wish my brother would have understood that long ago before he found himself in the situation he is in now. I hope to bring him sense, to fix any errors before it ends in something disastrous.

  “Oh, this is so pretty! It would fit Ludwig so well,” Feliciano ogled at this ring, with silver, diamonds and a black stripe.

 “It won’t fit with the wedding decorations though,” Lovino told.

 “What if it doesn’t? It would fit Ludwig, and that’s what matters,” Feliciano smiled, putting the ring back and settling on looking for others.

 Lovino only huffed, not really caring at the task at hand. “They’re really expensive here though.”

 “They do have the nicest. I though you said that price shouldn’t matter,” Feliciano reminded, now settling on a red band, smoothed with diamonds and black jewels.

 “Only if you have the budget for it.”

 “We talked about this the first day. We’re all right, you yourself suggested the budget and were still well under it.”

 And that moment hurt, Lovino realizing that his idea to try and make this wedding hard for him as selfish revenge was only bringing more pain he did not really want for his brother. He did not want to push more into it, did not want to remind more of what Feliciano was going through, but Lovino needed answers, he needed to help his brother if there was a way he could do it.

 “Are you really all right?” He asked, leaning closer, a small little area of privacy in the shop, despite being one of the only five there.

 “I…I’m fine, I really…why you would you question it like that?” There was hesitation and worry that Lovino had learned to see well on his brother, no matter how he later tried to conceal it.

 “Feliciano…” he knew now he had to be direct, or else it seemed Feliciano would move away further. “I noticed the message you got for the house in Santo Domingo.” Feliciano stiffened and looked like he had turned to stone. “Feliciano…what’s going on?”

 Feliciano’s expression was now determined on the rings, trying to make them the focus. Change the topic, a distraction, chose a damn ring. He realized that moment he didn’t like any of them for Ludwig. Lovino could see his disappointment, came ever closer, for Feliciano caging, imposing, and he was never one to resist for long.

 “I didn’t…I didn’t want to say anything,” he finally omitted and Lovino was relieved. “Ludwig and I didn’t want to talk about it with our families until everything was really settled.” He thought maybe excuse enough so Lovino could wait until then, but there was heavy wait in his expression that demanded more, and Feliciano, intimidated, sighed, and gave to be able to rid it. “I really want to keep to what Ludwig said, but…I can admit that our job positions…have changed.” Lovino tried to give surprise, but he needed more he hadn’t heard. “It’s…it’s really nothing to worry about. Ludwig and I are fine. Were just worried about…how you guys will take it.”

 “How come? Do you think we’ll react negatively?”

 “I mean, I just… I just don’t know…and I rather we can talk about it some other time.”

 “You’re going to leave me worried as hell here,” he couldn’t resist raising his voice slightly.

 “Please, please, please, don’t!” Feliciano tried to hush him, taking his arms in his ever-gentile hold. “Just wait a bit more!  The most I can tell you is that…I’m not doing a volunteer anymore.”

 “What?” Lovino outraged loud this time, Feliciano grimacing, pushing him more into their privacy, close, the other comers had now quickly gazed. Once their eyes were back on other jewelry, Feliciano went back to speaking.

 “It’s a job now, a good official job. They’ll pay me lots and I can take care of me and Ludwig.” He got excited hoping Lovino could understand the joy in it, but the elder brother continued his grimace. “However bad you think it is, it’s not. It’s honestly wonderful. Just, please…wait until Ludwig and I talk about it, it will all be clear then.” That’s when the clerk came, suggesting his help and Feliciano took it eagerly to get out of this conversation. He was attentive, no matter the demanding stare Lovino kept on him as he talked on, deciding on rings, buying, saying their farewells. Even as they made their ways back home, Feliciano refused to cave, talking on different topics, nowhere near the future Lovino was exceptionally worried about for him.

  “Ludwig…I’m going to do something I never thought I would ever do in my life,” Gilbert told, planted and spread on their parent’s sofa, Ludwig on a near table tapping away on his laptop.

 “Mhm?” He could only murmur, busy and not really wanting to engage in any kind of conversation.

 “I think I’m going to ask Lovino out.”

 Ludwig instantly stopped his tapping and gazed over to his brother, looking like a defeated soldier all splayed like that…he wondered if perhaps he had truly been fighting some intensive battle…one that lead to some kind of trauma where he thought it was okay to date what he had long considered his biggest enemy.

 “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

 “I’m fine, really……am I?” He gazed over, Ludwig wondering so, close to calling some sort of clinical aid.

 “In my honest opinion, you are now truly and fully insane.”

 “Is it…that unexpected?”

 “Lovino Valenti, Gilbert…you want to date Lovino Valenti…think about that, analyze, consider, plan…Lovino Valenti!” He needed to make clear as much as he could.

 Gilbert turned and went silent, Ludwig sighing for now, sure that Gilbert would come into his senses.

 “I want to bang him,” he had no problem with alerting the room, Ludwig grimacing and hoping he could erase those words from ever being uttered by his brother’s mouth.

 “Oh no…you’re serious.” There was no way of getting his concentration again, his mind was now too tainted. “What…what happened?”

 “I guess we just…did what you guys always said we should have done. We talked and…kind of decided to settle our differences to help make this wedding possible, and ever since we did that…I’ve realized we actually connect a lot. He’s actually…really cool and he can say so many awesome things that makes me want to…keep letting him talk and listen…I never thought I would want that from him ever.”

 Ludwig…needed to pinch…or slap himself to truly realize this was happening, but wanting to be the attentive younger brother, he simply breathed in and let him continue.

 “…I…think about him a lot, and now…all I’m looking forward to is our next meeting…” nothing more. He breathed in a silence that was odd for him.

 “You know…that sounds exactly like how I felt when I realized…well…that I was in love with Feliciano.”

 The word love was just the shot to get Gilbert to widen and come back to reality. “Woah, woah, woah there, let’s not get carried away,” he even sat up.

 “You just said all that and you refuse to admit that it could be love?”

 “But…that’s too strong, that’s something…way beyond what we’re in right now.”

 “So?” Ludwig shrugged, “doesn’t matter. When the feeling comes, it comes, and it’s not about how long it took.”

 “Feliciano has really gotten to you.”

 “Perhaps…or more like Lovino has gotten to you.”

 Gilbert didn’t know what else to respond with, laying back down, pretending once again his brother was not there.

 Ludwig sighed, “listen…this weekend were having a dinner at Antico again…all of us together.”

 “Are you going to say you’re marrying Feliciano again?”

 “No, it’s just to meet and spend some time together before the wedding. We’re also going to send the invitations that day and Feliciano and I are going to talk about something,” Ludwig sounded his always collectable self, but that’s when Gilbert was reminded of the mission him and Lovino had set forward. Yes, he had to get information…not…sit and ogle over said Italian he had planned this with.

 “What are you going to talk about?” Was his very subtle question.

 Ludwig raised an eyebrow, “…I’m going to talk about it at the dinner.”

 “But what is it?”

 “At…the dinner…”

 “Yeah, but I want to know now.”

 “Gilbert, please, I made it clear, I’m going to talk about it at the dinner.”

 “I don’t think I can wait.”

 “Sure, you can. It’s this weekend.”

 “You know more than anyone I have no patience.”

 “Yes, I know, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”

 “Tell me.”

 “No.”

 “Come on, what if I don’t even go?”

 “Now I really know you’re definitely going.”

 “What makes you think that?”

 “Lovino will be there.”

 Gilbert clicked his tongue, stuck, the effort gone and Ludwig smirked knowing well it had worked. “I still want to know now.”

 “You’re being a child. Can you stop so I can go back to focusing on this?” He leaned back to the couch, taking his laptop and continuing his work, forcing himself into the screen.

 “What are you even doing?”

 “Talking to some investors from my company.”

 “Investors? Why would you need investors?”

 “It’s for something for when Feliciano and I get to Santo Domingo.”

 “I thought your company was in charge of that.”

 “Well, uh…things have changed now.” He hoped with how focused he looked, it would be enough for Gilbert to think that he needed some peace and quiet…but this was his brother after all.

 “How have things changed to the point that you have to get investors?” He leaned close, clear suspicion.

 “It’s nothing to worry about.”

 “Investors usually mean a lot of money, Luddy.”

 “No, they don’t.”

 “Hey, I might not know the full mechanics on how company businesses work, but if I’ve learned something from Opa and TV, investors are never a good word to hear.”

 “This time it’s different.”

 “How so?”

 “None of your business.”

 “Luddy! Luddy! Luddy!”

 “Oh mein gott, stop! It’s to start my own business,” he shouted, in a fiery vengeance, a loud call that brought Gilbert back to his seating.

 For once, Ludwig got the silence he needed to keep on writing, but Gilbert’s eyes were now on him with great intensity. He sat there perturbed, startled…it was just as distracting.

 “What now?” He demanded.

 “A new business? What do you mean a new business?”

 Ludwig sighed, defeated as he lay his head back on the couch. Maybe working on these e-mails in the living room with Gilbert wasn’t a bright idea. “Look, I’m going to talk about it on the dinner.”

 “About starting a new business?”

 “Yes!” Ludwig was getting exasperated.

 “Why would you start a new business? I thought your job had it covered!”

 “Look!” He slammed his laptop, standing, “things have changed! It’s…nothing to worry about! Feliciano and I are still getting married, we’re still going to the Dominican Republic. He’ll be happy and I’ll make sure to do everything I can so he’s comfortable.”

 “Why do you feel the need to clarify that? Something is wrong! Come on, just tell me-”

 “Nothing is wrong! What were worried about is what you will think about it.”

 “Then just-”

 “The dinner, okay! The dinner!” And he was off the room before Gilbert could question any longer.

< previous chapter

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[lavishedinjimin]

a little bit of sugar, daddy [4]

↳ Pairing: taehyung x reader

↳ genre: sugardaddy!au, ceo!au

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 5.5k

↳ warnings: detailed smut, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), cunnilingus, dom! tae, sir kink, sugardaddy!tae, ceo!tae 

— synopsis:  Taehyung - a sugardaddy and a businessman, a man who derives his life from sex, pleasure, and money. Y/n - a girl working at a small cafe, whose sex life is as dry as the weekly delivered coffee beans. Will Y/n adjust to the new lifestyle she agreed to, and keep up with all of the dirty antics with Taehyung?

Since links aren’t working here, previous and subsequent parts of the story are located at my masterlist!

You couldn’t say that it was a regular day at the café.

It wasn’t as close to regular at all.

The café was packed with students and people in business clothing. The place has never been this crowded in your entire stay of working there, and you were three inches close from getting exhausted. “What is up with all these people today?” you turned your head to Yuqi when the café had died down a bit. She sighs, starting to prepare another customer’s drink. “I don’t have a clue, Y/n. Just get to work.” Her sudden bitterness in her tone made you scoff in surprise. “Jeez, okay, okay,” you muttered.

“Sorry. I just got my period, that’s all.”

“Noted.”

Still, you couldn’t get the events of yesterday out of your mind. Taehyung just asked you to send him the details of your bank account for him to deposit some money. In the back of your mind, you were nervous to do that. You were a little bit skeptical, what if he was just playing games with you and he robs you? But you’ve quickly thrown that thought away because man – he makes millions every year, he doesn’t need money from a lonely and pathetic college girl.

He has sent you 8k once he got ahold of your account, sending you an email saying that it was for ‘starters’. You were very overwhelmed at that moment, and you still are. The amount was too big for what you were comfortable with, but of course – he insisted. You didn’t plan on spending anything yet, though. There was no time for that.

You snapped out of your rumination, removing yourself from your deep staring contest with the countertop when you heard Yuqi’s voice as she whisper-shouted from the back. “Y/n! Stop drowning in your thoughts again! There’s a man in front of you!” You panicked immediately.

“G-good afternoon sir, what can I—”

“You really should stop calling me that in public.”

Your eyes went wide and you felt your face going pale as your eyes fixated on him. The man who was just invading your thoughts a few seconds ago. “I-I…um, w-what are you, no, w-wait…”

You wanted to slap yourself so bad when your voice stuttered like that in front of him. Your eyes were just as confused as you are, trying to look somewhere instead of his intimidating eyes without looking rude.

Taehyung chuckles as he shakes his head, “Look at me, Y/n.”

His strict and authoritarian tone was familiar, instantly making you do as you were told. As if it was in your blood to submit to him. His eyes were dark but with a hint of playfulness when his mouth curves into a smirk, creating a tingly feeling in your stomach.

You forgot that the two of you were not alone in this area as you saw Yuqi’s presence at the corner of your eye. “Y/n? Do you know him?” she asks as she turns her head towards Taehyung, examining him with her eyebrows furrowed. “Well…”

“Yes, she does,” Taehyung immediately says before you could even speak, “Taehyung.” He introduced himself as he gave her a charming smile. Yuqi, on the other hand, nodded her head towards him and smiled back just a tiny bit.

“Let me wait for you outside inside my car. You only have…” he pauses as he checks his watch, “eight minutes left until you finish your shift anyway. Okay?”

You didn’t trust your voice as you only nod, forcing a slight smile towards his direction. He turns his back to you as he readjusts his suit blazer, finally stepping out of the café into his car.

You didn’t realize that you were holding a breath when you suddenly exhaled out loud. “Okay, who was that handsome-looking man and why does he know you?”

You suddenly felt a blush crawling into your cheeks, trying to hide it by lowering your head but Yuqi was fast enough to notice it. “Oh god, don’t tell me—”

“I-I don’t want to spill the tea yet, Yuqi. It’s kind of complicated.”

She narrows her eyes towards you, obviously doubting your words. “Okay then,” she heads back to her station, cleaning up a spill of water on the counter, “whatever you say.”

~

You said your farewells to Yuqi, allowing Matt to take over your station. “I think that the black car outside is waiting for you.”

You smile kindly at him, nodding your head, “Mhmm.”

“Okay, go home safely…or wherever that car is taking you.” You chuckle at his statement, saying goodbye to him as you step outside of the shop and towards the car that you were oh-so-familiar with already. Taehyung immediately steps out of the car to open the passenger’s door for you. You shake your head at him, “You don’t have to open my door all the time, you know. I have my own hands.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow up, smirking, “I do what I want for my princess,” he suddenly steps closer to you until you were pressed against his car, his bottom half touching yours. Your breath hitched as you looked up at his smirking state. “W-we shouldn’t do this in public, y-you know that?”

The way how your voice wavered a bit and how airy it sounded turned him on. He chuckled, looking around him as he saw numerous people walking straight by them, and some were even completely obvious of what the two of you were doing. “Taehyung, p-please.”

“Why? Are you afraid of someone might see us?” He pressed himself even further on your body, which resulted in a whine coming from your lips. “Yes.”

“Yeah?” he teased, biting his lip in amusement. Taehyung noticed how nervous you were seriously getting so he pulled himself back, leaving you some space. Taehyung, in the back of his mind, loved how flushed you got because of it. He adored how your body was completely complying with his actions when your mind told you different things.

Suddenly, Taehyung stepped forward once again and without further warning, he pressed a kiss on your lips. You can feel your cheeks burn a shade of red immediately, your eyes expanding in shock. Taehyung mentally cursed at himself for kissing you public because he immediately became addicted to the feeling of your lips, and he wanted to do it again, longer. Your lips felt so soft against his, making him crave for more, but he knew you wouldn’t allow that. He pulled away first, his eyes becoming a shade darker as he ran his tongue on his bottom lip.

He gives you a handsome grin, nodding his head once, “Let’s go, darling?” You forced a quiet ‘okay’ as you both entered his car. You were still so speechless, not believing what just happened. You loved the kiss, even if it was just a simple act. It was your first kiss with Taehyung, and you longed for more. You could still feel the touch of his lips as it lingered on your own.

“Is there something on your mind, babygirl?” Taehyung peers at you for a second, noticing how his mouth curved up in a smirk as he directed his attention back on the road. “I-uh, well…” You struggled to find the right words, looking down on your lap. You were too shy to say what you really feel, and you were just hoping that he already got the idea.

“It’s the first time we kissed, right?”

You nodded, eyes still fixated on your thighs as you start to play with your fingers in an attempt to calm down. “I wanted to do that ever since, Y/n. You don’t know how many times I got tempted to kiss those sweet lips of yours. Your lips feel so addicting, baby.”

You emit a quiet laugh, tilting your head once to the side, “I didn’t even kiss you properly.”

Taehyung chuckles at your statement, bringing up a hand to play with his bottom lip as he rests his elbow on the door. He found it quite cute of you to say that. “Oh, really?”

“Well, yeah. You suddenly kissed me and I wasn’t prepared at all.”

“If you were prepared, would you kiss me better?” he teased, anticipating your reply. Even without looking at you, he knew that you would be blushing. Taehyung liked your innocence, it was like a breath of fresh air into his world. His world would be either filled with women with many experiences, or women who’d try to control him. If he had to choose, he’d go for the first option. Taehyung couldn’t wait for the time where he would have you all alone, all for himself and to make his fantasies into a reality – with your consent, of course.

“I think so,” you replied quietly, trying to hide a smile that was ought to form your lips. You liked teasing him like this, suddenly finding some courage. “I think I can kiss you better.”

Taehyung raised a single brow, pressing his tongue against his cheek. ‘Stop playing with fire, Y/n’.

“Don’t make me pull over, angel.” His voice dropped a few tones lower, almost inaudible that made your stomach turn, instantly biting your lip. You knew better than to make any more noise as you let him drive you wherever he’s taking you…in fact—

“Where are we going anyway?”

He chuckles, “My house, of course.”

“For what?”

“I need to ask you a few questions regarding the contract.”

“Oh,” you mumbled quietly. You gulped, afraid of what he will ask you. You solely remembered being so flushed as you read through the contract yesterday, reading all kinds of terms that you never heard of before. “I thought we were already done with it?”

“Don’t worry, Y/n. You’ll see when we get there.”

~

You sat across from him, watching him place the contract on the table in front of you. He brought out a pencil as he started to flip through the pages. You watch him in silence, not knowing what he was about to do or what he will ask you.

“Y/n, you’ve read the things that I’m compatible with doing, haven’t you?” He looked deep into your eyes, a penetrating gaze that almost made you unable to speak. You nod, not trusting your voice.

“Good, do you want me to explain and evaluate some of them to you?”

You thought for a moment, thinking that he should explain them for your own good. You want to have a clear knowledge of the things he would do to you. “Okay,” Taehyung nodded and smiled, “Good.”

He scanned the page, cringing as he remembered how it was not updated at all. The kinks that were written were less than the kinks he has today. He should’ve made a new one. “Impact play. Do you think you can handle spanking, angel?”

You blinked a few times before speaking, “Y-yes, I think I would.”

Taehyung smiled at your reply as he licked his bottom lip. “Can you handle if I used whips on you? Floggers, perhaps?” Even if he asked, he knew what your answer would be. He wanted you to be honest.

On the other hand, you didn’t even know what those things were. You lowered your head in embarrassment, avoiding his sharp gaze. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He leaned forward and held your chin with his hand, noticing how your eyes wavered when it made contact with his. Taehyung smiled, trying to calm you down. “You don’t have to be shy. We’re doing this for you to be comfortable, okay? We wouldn’t do things that you do not want, I promise.”

You forced a smile and nodded, his deep and sincere voice calming your nerves down.

“What do you think if I were to tie you up, put a blindfold on you, hmm? Would you trust all your senses to me?” Everything seemed so natural for him, the words being so sane for him to say out loud. You were bouncing your leg up and down under the desk involuntarily as you tried to remain composed.

“It’s okay, I wanna try it.”

His eyes lit up, “You do? That’s great, angel.” He looked back down to the paper, “Are you familiar with sex toys?”

You blushed, suddenly remembering the time where Olivia forced you to buy a vibrator just like she did. It was your 20th birthday at the time, but you scratched her offer right away. You were already quite embarrassed to touch yourself, let alone with a toy that vibrates. And besides, you don’t have the time.

“My friend, Olivia. She tried to push me to buy a toy on my twentieth birthday but I declined.”

Taehyung’s mouth curved up into a grin, resting his head on his left palm as he kept his gaze on you, examining you. “Really? What kind?”

“Umm, a vibrator. I figured I won’t have the time to use it anyway. But I wanna try one soon, with you.”

He felt his dick twitch underneath his slacks, trying to prevent a groan to escape his lips. Taehyung attempted to calm himself down, getting too excited about the thought of using a vibrator on you, making you go over the edge. 

“Do you think you’d like it when I use the toy to my advantage, baby girl?” he leans even closer, his plump lips almost touching yours. You gulp as you felt his hot breath, goosebumps erupting your skin. “What if I use it to tease you for hours, and stop whenever I see that you’re close to your orgasm? Would you like if I do that, hmm?” You whined quietly, getting turned on from his words. “I know you’d like that. You’d get so frustrated when I control those orgasms, but I promise you, baby, that it’ll feel even better when I let you cum.”

When he saw you blushing, Taehyung pulled away slightly to let you breathe. He smirked, knowing the effect he has on you.

“Do you know what voyeurism means?”

Absolutely not. You shake your head, “N-no, I don’t.”

He smiled, “It’s when someone gains pleasure from watching others get off, or doing any sexual activity.” Your eyes widen from his statement, not really expecting that answer. Why would he gain pleasure from that?

“H-how?”

Taehyung bites his lip, eyeing you up and down. He noticed that you were seated at the edge of your chair and the way how your legs keep bouncing up and down. He suddenly grabs your hand, gently rubbing the top of your hand with his thumb as he tries to calm you down. “For example, I watch you touch yourself for me as I sit there in front of you. Or it could be the other way around.”

The thought of him watching you as you possibly touched yourself made your heart race. You’re already imagining it; the way he’d look at you like you were his prey, deep and lust-filled eyes, always devouring you, and how his hard member would be strained against his pants. You wanted to make those fantasies into a reality, too. “I think I’d love that.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, lowering his head down as he tried to regain his composure for how many times today. All he wanted to do was to push you down on his desk and eat you out for being so good to him. He wanted to do everything that this contract held, but he knew better. He leaned back on his chair, reaching a hand up to his tie as he loosened it, feeling the atmosphere getting hot. He removed his blazer and placed it at the back of his chair. You observed how he rolled his shirt sleeves up to his forearms as it exposed his protruding veins that you secretly loved. You bite your lip at the sight of him.

“Moving on,” he breathed out, being as sexually frustrated as you were. He had to keep this discourse with you going, “Now I’ve cleared the things I like, do you have any problems with any of them? Do you want to add anything to the list? Please be honest with me, baby.”

You smiled up at him, shaking your head, “I’m fine with everything, Taehyung. I can’t wait to try them out with you.”

“Me too, Y/n. Fuck, you don’t know how much I wanna spend the day with you and just make you cum over and over again,” Taehyung stops himself further, seeing how you shifted in your sheets. “I’m sorry, I should—”

“Can I kiss you, Tae?”

The two of you were shocked at your sudden confidence, but you were sick of holding back. Taehyung was just really irresistible, and his plump lips tempting – begging to be kissed. Taehyung smirks at you as he stands up, walking over to you so now he was standing right in front of you, grabbing your chin with his hand as he made you look up at him. “You’re gonna show me how good you kiss, angel?”

You smile cheekily, “Well, it depends what ‘good’ is for you.”

And with that, he leans down and presses his lips on yours as he pulls you to stand up. His hands were busy roaming your body as you felt his tongue swipe on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You decided to tease him by not complying, giggling in between the kiss. 

Taehyung groaned when you disobeyed, suddenly smacking your right butt cheek – hard. The action made you gasp in shock, not foreseeing the pleasure it brought you. He took the chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth, eventually meeting your own. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue moving against yours as it both fought for dominance in which of course, he won. He gripped your waist and lifted you up on his desk. He grabs a hold of your legs and wraps it around his hips, pressing your body tightly on his. Taehyung involuntarily grinds into you slightly, making the both of you moan from the feeling. You were immediately getting wet from his actions.

“T-Taehyung, please,” you whined as you pulled away from the kiss, trying to catch your breath. “Do something.”

You noticed how his eyes turned a shade darker like a different person has now invaded his body. His more dominant side is showing. “Are you sure about this, baby? Do you want me to touch you?”

You trusted him. A lot. And you wanted this too as much as he does, so you nodded, “Yes, I promise. I want this.”

“Good girl,” he growled, suddenly lifting you up. You squeaked, his hands on your bottom for assistance as he led you out of his office until he got closer to the staircase. You sling your arms around his neck for support, “I-I can walk, you know.”

He started to walk up the stairs, “I can do it, angel.” He smiled at you and gave your lips a tender kiss.

He brought you to – in what you thought was his bedroom as you saw a large king-sized bed. His room wasn’t decorated at all instead of two large paintings above the headboard and one above a little desk on a plain wall. His room wall already air-conditioned, the slight coldness hitting your skin and making you shiver.

He threw you on the bed and your back hits the soft mattress. Taehyung smirks down at you, removing his tie and unbuttoning his white dress shirt. You gulp, closing your legs at the hot sight of him. He clearly was giving you a mini strip show. You were tempted to just jump up at him and remove his clothes, but you held yourself back.

He removed his shirt completely, making you release a moan from the sight. The eventide lights shining against his beautiful skin, your hands itching to touch every single part of him. He was attractively toned, each and every part of him perfect. “You’re drooling, babygirl.” He smirked as he slowly hovered above your figure.

His big right hand runs down your stomach until it reaches your denim-covered heat, gently cupping it against his palm. You moan, the slight touch already a big deal for you. “Hmm, already responding, baby. I like that.”

His hand plays with the hem of your shirt, “Can I remove this, Y/n? Will you let me see you?” You nod vigorously, already growing impatient, “Please.”

He lifts up your shirt, putting your arms up as he removes the clothing completely, throwing it somewhere inside the room. He growls at the sight, loving how you wore a white lace bra. You didn’t purposely wear those undergarments for today, your normal pairs were just not finished drying so you wore this set today.

What made Taehyung even more hard was how there was a little white bow in the middle of your bra. The contrast of how lewd the garment was plus the innocent design made him groan. He abruptly attacks your neck, sucking on your sweet spots to create hickeys, marking you as his.

He removes your shorts in the process, his hand immediately flies to cup your cunt. Your hips instinctively grind on his hand. “Hmm, what a desperate little girl you are. Do you want me to touch your pussy, huh?”

You nod, closing your eyes as he pressed his hand even further on your crotch. “I want words, angel.”

“Yes, sir.” You moaned from the sensation.

Taehyung stopped his tracks, eyes wide in shock. It was the first time you called him that nickname from pure pleasure. It was music to his ears.

“Say that again,” he grunts, almost like a growl as he unbuttoned his slacks. He felt his cock growing harder and harder each second, and his mind was going crazy.

“Sir,” you whined this time, purposely biting your lip right after. He felt his cock twitch in need and he discarded his pants. “Oh baby girl, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

He brings his hand up to your chest as he massages your breast, earning a loud moan from your lips. You felt his hands move behind your back, wanting to remove your bra but you stop him. He noticed your nervousness, giving you a smile and a kiss to your lips.

“You’re beautiful, Y/n, I promise. You’re a literal angel, darling. Don’t be shy around me, okay?” You look up at him, your pure eyes staring at his completely dark ones. He adored how you looked below him, he couldn’t think of how many times he had imagined you in this position. Taehyung wanted this so bad, just as much as you did at this moment. He removed your bra slowly, a growl emitting his lips as he finally saw you.

He peppers kisses all over your boobs, giving little kitten licks to your sensitive buds, teasing you as you arched your back in pleasure. 

“Little one’s sensitive, aren’t you?” he chuckles. His head moves down to your pussy, admiring how wet you are through the garment. The way he looked at your core, devouring you made you whimper. He looks up at you, “Can I remove these?” He bites down on his lip, tugging at the center part of the clothing and letting it snap back to your wet heat. “Yes, sir, please.”

Taehyung chuckles as he did as he was told, exposing yourself completely to him. He sighs, inhaling your scent. “You look gorgeous, baby. All for me…”

Taehyung suddenly wastes no time to stick his tongue out right to your entrance, flatting it against you as he tastes you. You moaned, gripping his hair tightly. “Please…” 

Taehyung brings his tongue up to your clit, collecting your juices on his tongue, making him groan. “You’re so goddamn sweet. So fucking addicting,” he did the same thing all over again, making you tremble below him. He had to hold your hips down on the mattress to prevent you from constantly bucking up. 

“Is this your first time getting tongue on your pussy, baby?” he said with a husky voice, proceeding to suck on your clit. You struggled to find the right words, your mind only clouded with pleasure. 

“Y-yes sir,” Taehyung smirked, feeling that he needs the bars high. He needs to do well so that in the end, you’ll always look for him and that no other man can pleasure you like he does.

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, your high coming close but before you could even come, he moves his head away. You whined from the loss of contact, “If you’re gonna cum for the first time in a year then I want it to be when I’m inside you.”

He moves up, his knees supporting his weight and you can see the large tent in front of his grey Calvin Klein’s. You moan from the sight, watching as he smirked down at you. You blush when you saw him palm himself, throwing his head back slightly as he still kept his eyes on yours. “How about you remove them for me?”

You nodded in excitement, sitting up straight as your fingers were nimble to grip his waistbands. Taehyung couldn’t help but to unintentionally buck his hips forward slightly, making you gasp at his sudden action. His view below him was arousing, more than any other than the past women that he’d been with. Just looking at your chaste and little figure, right in front of his bulging crotch made him hornier. He runs a hand through your hair, “Come on, angel.”

You bite your lip, finally giving in as you lowered his boxers down. His cock springing up immediately, precum leaking from the tip. You let out a gasp, you weren’t expecting him to be that big. You felt pity for your past boyfriend; he could never compare his size to Taehyung. He chuckles above you, fighting the urge to just force your pretty little mouth down his dick. “Like what you see?”

You nod in reply, moaning when his other hand stroked his member a couple of times. “Lay back down for me,” You did as you were told, watching him hover above you. You waited in anticipation as he positions himself right at your entrance, his tip slightly pressing against you. 

“I’m gonna go slow at first baby, let you get used to my size, yeah? Tell me immediately if it hurts.” You nodded your head. He slowly pushed inside of you, stretching you out slowly. You thanked him inside your mind that he prepped you enough as he slid without that much troubles. You moan from the feeling as he reached places you’ve never felt before. Taehyung groans, the pleasure being all too much to handle, and he’s still just easing himself in. “God, you’re so tight. So fucking tight.”

He started to gradually move inside of you, feeling your wet walls clench around him. “F-faster, sir, harder.” you whimpered, making him chuckle above you. “Oh, is my angel begging for more? You want to go rough, hmm?”

You moaned from his dirty talk, nodding your head, “Yes, yes, please. Please fuck me rough, sir.” Taehyung growls and started to pound into you harder and faster. His cock hits all the right places as he feels so full inside of you. He immediately finds your g-spot, always an easy target for him. His thrusts reach deeper inside of you, your hands clawing his back from the immense pleasure. 

“You like that angel? You liked the feeling of my dick pounding into you so good, huh?” he says breathily as he smirks, liking your reaction. Your face was flushed, eyes closed as your lips form in an ‘o’ shape.

“Yes sir, I love it so much.”

His groans are getting louder and louder as each seconds pass, and you learned that he wasn’t afraid of being vocal. You were getting close to your high and he could feel it. He could feel how tight you were getting and how your moans were getting louder. 

“You gonna come, angel?” He lowers his left hand to rub your clit continuously. “Come on, cum for me.” His thrusts were getting sloppy, signaling that he was close as well. One final thrust, in particular, made you release around him, spasming uncontrollably around his dick. “O-oh, s-sir~” you whimpered, cumming so hard. 

Taehyung smirks as he went faster, catching up on his high until he pulls out, stroking his cock a couple of times until his seed was all over your heaving stomach. He pushes his hair back, catching his breath while you did the same. He leaned back down and kissed your lips passionately. 

 “You were so good, Y/n.” He smiles as he collects his semen with his fingers then bringing it up close to your mouth. “Open,” you obeyed, tasting his cum. The action felt filthy, but you loved it.

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled up at him, giggling right after. He kissed your forehead, “Anything for my angel. Tonight was just the first time, there’s more to come.” His mouth curved up in a smirk that you always loved, his eyes shone as he talked. You chuckled, “Can’t wait.”

He lifts you up and he started to carry you towards his bathroom, placing you down to sit on the marble counter. He grabs a towel, turning on the sink to wet the cloth as he cleaned the both of you up. “It’s already seven, you’re staying here with me tonight.”

Your eyes widen slightly as a smile from your lips, “You’re gonna do that?”

He laughs at your words quietly, “I wouldn’t let you sleep alone right after I fucked you, angel.”

You lower your head in embarrassment, laughing at yourself right after. He gives the towel to you and goes outside for a moment. He returns right after, being fully dressed in a white shirt and black pajamas, a shirt on his hand as he gives it to you. “You can wear this.” You thanked him, slipping the shirt on. You saw how the hem reaches down to your mid thighs, thankfully covering your ass. When you tried to come down from the counter, your knees almost failed you and you wobbled for a moment, losing a little bit of balance. Taehyung immediately grabs you until you obtained your stability back, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Hmm, someone had too much fun.” You smacked his shoulders, “Shut up.”

“Do you want pizza? I’ll order us some if you want,” he requests. Your eyes widen, suddenly feeling super hungry, “Yes please.”

Taehyung smiles, kissing your lips for a second. “Great. Meet me downstairs to the living room once you’re ready.” You nodded before he leaves out of the bathroom.

~

You looked at your face on the mirror, sighing as you saw your fucked out reflection. Starting today, your life will be completely different. You will be attending to all of his needs, and (hopefully) attending to yours as well. You can still feel him inside of you, though. He was big, and he went completely hard on you. You couldn’t help but ponder for what he’s gonna bring to the table next.

You saw a comb lying around the counter and fixed your tangled hair. After that, you finally exit the bathroom and go downstairs to the living room where he told you to wait.

As you were heading down, you heard a couple of muffled voices echoing around the room. Walking carefully, you tried to catch a glimpse to see what was going on. You spotted Taehyung on the doorway, his broad back faced towards you as he was talking to someone. Your eyebrows crease as he runs his hand through his hair. Who was he talking to this time at night? Could it be Marie? No, you just saw her enter one of the rooms in this building.

You tilted your head to the side in an attempt to see who he was speaking to. You spot long, platinum blonde hair and you immediately gasp quietly. You witnessed how she placed a hand on his chest, but Taehyung instantly chucks it away.

Crissy.

You didn’t realize that you now only stood a few meters in front of them. Crissy saw your figure behind Taehyung and she smirked, eyes on you. As if she’s doing it on purpose, she steps forward and presses her body on Taehyung, gripping his shoulders. Your eyes went wide in shock, wanting to speak but your mouth didn’t let you. Taehyung pushes her away, but not too hard that she would stumble backward. “Oh, and here she is,” Crissy smirks right at you as Taehyung follows where he eyes lead, turning back to see you just standing at the verge of the staircase, playing with your fingers in nervousness from the uneasy atmosphere.

What the hell was going on?

~~~

Please leave a note if you enjoyed this chapter, it will really inspire me to continue. xoxo

[babywarg]

[stephen-centric gen fic] A Merchant of Time

Note: I remember Black Jack mentioned in a prompt somewhere, but I can’t find it again. Can anyone point me to it? I just woke up this morning with this in my head and had to write it down.

If you haven’t read Osamu Tezuka’s classic Black Jack comics yet - please do. The author had a solid medical background; it shone through in the sometimes fantastic stories he wrote for this iconic (anti?)hero.

Edit: also up on AO3.

***

The cancer was supposed to have taken Eugene Strange within a year.

But before that year was up, Eugene went on a trip. It was to see an underground doctor in Japan: a miracle worker, famous for experimental and controversial medical techniques.

His wife Beverly lost contact with him for a few days. Then, suddenly, she received a phone call from him, instructing her to wire all the money in their family’s bank account to a new account he had set up in Japan.

Beverly at first resisted. It was all their money. They had three small children.

“You don’t understand,” her husband said, his voice shaking in desperation, “this is for our children. For us. I don’t want to go yet, Bev. It’s not my time.”

Beverly wept. She feared her husband had been scammed.

But she loved him. And she would do anything, if it meant there was even the slightest chance of defying fate.

So, Beverly Strange steeled herself, and did as her husband bade.

***

Two months later, Eugene Strange returned to his family in Nebraska - fully cancer-free.

But he was also changed. He was no longer the warm, funny, loving family man whom his wife knew. And whom his oldest child Stephen looked up to.

He despised the penniless state to which his family had been reduced, because of the expensive treatment that saved his life. He became obsessed with money - to the point that it seemed nothing else mattered.

He shuttled between work and his study. His family barely got to see him anymore. Young Stephen found himself having to be the “man of the house” at an early age, dealing with domestic affairs - like keeping his younger siblings in line, being strong for his mother, taking on some of the chores, speaking for the household - in ways his father couldn’t be bothered to do.

When his sister Donna died, his father wasn’t there to bury her.

Finally, the time came when Stephen had to go away to university. He wanted to see his father, at least, to say goodbye.

But his father didn’t even come out of his study to see him off.

***

Stephen wasn’t sure what drew him to medicine. There were no doctors in his family, as far as he knew. They were farmers, merchants, teachers - salt of the earth.

On the surface, it was about his sister, Donna. And all the other ways he could no longer stand feeling helpless.

But over time, he realized that it also might have been because of the doctor who had saved his father’s life.

He had never met this doctor, but the fact that his entire being was shrouded in mystery was enough to light a spark in his young mind.

Who was he? How could he have saved his father’s life, when all other doctors had given up? How come his father couldn’t speak of the procedure that had saved him, and why did he return a changed man from it?

...and what the fuck kind of name was “Black Jack”?

He toyed with the idea of looking for this doctor. Or, perhaps, meeting him at some of the medical summits or institutions he frequented.

But he knew there was little chance of that. From what he’d heard, the Japanese doctor did not even have a license to practice medicine. He was a hermit, a rogue - almost an urban legend.

Stephen might have looked up to him, because the man whom he’d loved as his father had disappeared into his obsession.

And Stephen’s propensity for charging clients exorbitant rates for lifesaving procedures...?

Well, that might have been inspired by that doctor, too.

If you could defy fate, and perform miracles beyond the abilities of ordinary humans, you had every right to ask for above-average compensation.

His father would agree. It was only fair.

***

He wasn’t supposed to survive the accident.

He was in a coma and wouldn’t wake up.

But somehow, a doctor was able to revive him. Stephen regained consciousness on that doctor’s operating table. His whole body felt heavy, though not in pain.

He could only move his eyes and his lips. He saw the doctor turn toward him. And through the haze of anaesthesia, he noticed - the man wore a medical gown that was drenched in blood. He had a skin graft on his face, over one eye.

That doctor asked him, “Do you want to live?”

What the hell kind of question was that?

“Do you want to live?” the doctor asked again.

“...Yes.” Stephen wasn’t sure the word actually escaped his lips, so he said it again, a little more loudly, “Yes.”

The doctor said, “Then you’d better be prepared for the cost.”

“Cost...?”

The doctor cited a figure.

“Can’t be serious.” Stephen wanted to laugh. He hoped he was able to.

“You don’t understand,” the doctor said. “The money you pay is for buying time. Time is not something you get more of for free. There’s always a price. A hefty one.”

As the doctor moved around the lab, getting his instruments ready (was he going to do this all alone? No - Stephen saw a little girl in a gown and cap and mask nearby, silently helping him. What was a child doing in an operating room?), he continued speaking:

“Someone who loves you heard I was in town, and thought of bringing you to me, when she realized that neither she nor any of the other doctors in your hospital could do anything. She begged me to save your hands. But it’s too late for that.”

His hands...what was that about his hands? Stephen was having a hard time following.

“Still, saving your life should be worth my asking price. Sometimes money is enough. But it seldom is.”

Stephen couldn’t understand that anymore. Staying awake meant pain had avenues to seep back in.

“How can you...be sure I’ll...pay?”

The doctor increased the amount of anaesthesia flowing into Stephen’s veins, and darkness fell.

***

Stephen would wake up in a room in the hospital where he worked - looked after by his friend and former lover, Christine.

Most of him would swiftly recover from injuries that would have been life-threatening to others, but which he would somehow managed to survive.

But not his hands. His hands would stay broken. Would never stop being in pain, never stop being a reminder of how things would never be the same.

He would hate Christine for this. Hate her for sending him to the rogue Japanese doctor who couldn’t save his hands anyway. Better to have left him to die, he said, than to have left him like this.

And it would break her heart. But he would be too heartbroken, himself, to notice.

***

The first thing he would find upon his return to his apartment was an obscenely high medical bill with no letterhead, and a bank account number in Japan. He would start selling off his expensive possessions to pay this bill.

In the end, when he was done paying, all he would have to his name was his apartment, a watch Christine had given him a long time ago, and a ton of debt. The completely untraceable bank account would be closed.

Then, Stephen would sell his apartment, use the money to look for the doctor with the two-toned face. He would travel the world, armed only with Christine’s watch and a few miserable dollars, hoping to find that doctor - or others like him, who could perform miracles. Who could save his life again.

Who could explain the very last thing he heard as he lost consciousness on that doctor’s operating table:

“You are Eugene Strange’s son. A Strange always pays.”

[jmeddows2]

Purple Thunder (Roger Taylor Series) - Part 9

(present/old) Roger Taylor series Notes: Here it is, the longest chapter of PP yet. I don’t want to give to much away, but there is going to be some relief for exactly two people after this one (yeah I’m talking about you reader and Roger lol). Roger is not making a big apperance, but he’ll always be there after this one! be prepared for a fluffy throwback and some cheesy musical contribution by Reader. I’m sorry, but this Taylor Swift song just fits perfectly and I’m obsessed with the album ‘Lover’. Songs from that album will definitely keep making appearances here and there. Anyway.. bare with me, english is not my first language, sorry for mistakes. The song lyrics used in this chapter are from the song “Death By A Thousand Cuts” - Taylor Swift. I recommend you listening to it once it pops up in the story. Feel free to drop me an ask, a message, send in your reaction, further requests etc. But most of all: THANK YOU FOR READING!!! :))) Words: 3.1k Warnings: cursing, cheating

Never would you have thought that a penthouse that light and happy, yet domestic could feel as sad and lonely as it did now.  This trip was supposed to lift all the weight from your shoulders, instead of pushing you down with even more sorrow.  After a few missed attempts to reach Roger through calling, the chandelier lights in the living room started flickering. Almost like a sign  Great. Where the hell was he? You started getting worried. Was he alright or did something happen? Was he on his way back home,or did he stay in a different room in the hotel? The thought that something bad could have happened,basically ate you alive, so you decided to text him. To: Roger 'Where have you gone?‘ 'I need to talk to you‘  How could he just leave like that? Without hearing you out first.?As the time went by you started making up different scenarios in  your head, thinking  this all was a all a joke to him, a distraction from his crumbling marriage. 'I’m worried. Please come back' you texted again. 

The only answer was a money transfer of 10.000£ to your bank account with the remark 'for travels if you decide to come back to London ‘ Seemed like it was goodbye now. But you didn‘t do anything wrong. And instead of spending the whole night thinking about what you could have done wrong this time,  you did what you could best, at least as it seemed.  Fuck shit up, so  'Doha Nightclub' on Long Island seemed just like the right place to get rid of the empty feeling deep inside and the especially big and empty penthouse.  The nightclub seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, but it was certainly easy to get there, given the fact that the penthouse of the Ritz provided you a very own Rolls Royce with a personal driver in tow, who would take you anywhere you wanted.  As you entered the dark place that lit up with purple strobe lights, the place was already packed. Girls that wore as little as they could, men with buttoned down shirts all over the dancefloor. It felt posh, nearly too posh for your liking. But now you were there. Would be a waste of gas to ask the driver to go to another place. This would do perfectly fine. Trying not to draw any attention to yourself , you chose a little table to sit at in the back where it was  dark, but the seat still visible enough for waitresses to notice once  your glass was empty. You were quite amused by the fact that it was a girl’s birthday party. They welcomed her into the club with two signs saying 'Happy Birthday‘. Right next to them was another blonde girl with curves in all the right places holding up a neon yellow sign saying '99% sure that vodka is my soulmate'. It made you chuckle, even with given circumstances. "What‘s your poison, honey?" A girl about your age asked you, holding a tray of shots in her hand.  "Anything right now. Any shot would do" you sighed. "Wait a minute“ the girl said taking a closer look at you. "Aren‘t you that singer that got engaged?"  "Do you see a ring on my finger?“ you held out your hands for her to inspect.  "Ouch“  "How much for the whole tray?“ "Girls are free tonight, honey“ she placed the tray on the table and took a seat on the empty chair. "I‘m Andrea, by the way“ she shook your hand.  5 shots in and you started conversing about god knows what.  "....and then I was too broke to stay in LA.. so, I had to come back. Guess there‘s too many pretty girls out there wanting to become an actress." she nearly cried telling stories about failing auditions trying to make in Los Angeles, how her boyfriend left her a week after she had flown out, trying to achieve a dream of hers. It made your heart sting. The cheating part. You were here trying go sulk like a victim, when you‘d been the one doing wrong all along. You didn‘t drop any names, just the context of the story. And she was understanding, even gave you her number in case you came back there again or just needed a friend to ramble on. She moved on to grab another tray and made her rounds. The night was restless. Almost like you expected the moments that were about to happen. You could feel it, boiling deep inside. It felt like a big bomb, that was about to go off and destroy everything. Everything that already had been in ruins. And as if someone heard your call from far away it reached its last strike.  A message from Roger. And your heart dropped.  'I don’t think this is a good idea anymore. I’m sorry.' You tried calling him again. This time he picked up.  "...Rog? Are you there?” you  breathed into the phone, unable to make out his voice in the club.. Impossible.so you went outside where it was quiet enough.  "Where are you? I miss you" you slurred into the phone, the alcohol speaking out of you.  "(Y/N) are you drunk?” he said and for a moment you thought he might be worried about.  "Come back to me Roger. Please” you begged him.  "I.. I can’t I’m sorry.. I don’t think this will work”  What you didn’t know was, that it took him hours to practice his little speech. To push all the feelings away that had kept building up inside him for over half a year now. First from keeping up with your work, until the last 3 months he actually got to spend with you in person. With his head in his hand, memories kept flashing back in his mind. The movie nights you had, cuddled up on the couch with a fuzzy warm blanket thrown over the two of you. If the movie was too boring, he would just start conversing about how bad it was or keep tickling and cuddling you to distract you from watching it. Or you’d just fall asleep. 3 months felt more like 3 years. And it was everything you ever craved.  The nights you spent at his house in Surrey kept replaying. When it was a mild night and not too cold, spending nearly all night long looking at the big statue of Freddie, which was in full display because of the big spotlight Roger had installed.  You’d usually sit on a thick and huge blanket on the grass or on chairs, feeling each other’s warmth, no talking, just being in the moment.  "Fred would have adored you“ Roger spoke up, which made you look up at him.  "Not as much as I adore him" you smiled at him, pressing a light kiss to his lips.  "What would he think about us now?" You asked, putting your head back on his chest and arms tightly around him.  "He‘d be happy for us” Roger whispered in your hair.  "Because I‘m happy. You make me happy." He kissed your temple. "Losing my best friend was the hardest thing I ever had to deal with." You squeezed him tighter to comfort him and it really did put him at more ease. His shoulders weren’t as tense when you started drawing patterns on his back.  "I couldn‘t even imagine how you must have felt. But I think losing you would come pretty close to that" you whispered back at him.  And now that was just about to happen. Your worst nightmare.  "I got to go now..." his voice was small and quiet. Almost quiet enough to hear your heart break. "I‘m sorry..." You felt dizzy, like your feet couldn‘t keep you up anymore. Just then you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.  "Hey baby. What are doing out here all alone.“ the stranger pulled you close to him, letting his hands roam all over your body. You felt disgusted.  "Stop..“ you tried to push him away. "Stop touching me“ you screamed louder.  "Y/N?“ A familiar voice. Dan.  "Dan?"  "Is that your fucking boyfriend baby?“ the disgusting stranger whispered in your ear before Dan pushed him away. Dan, your guitarist was your savior of the hour. You had last seen him storm out of the studio in London. You wrapped your arms around him, still trying to process everything that had happened in the last 30 minutes.  "Oh god, how much did you drink? You smell like a brewery“ he grimaced taking in the unpleasant scent.  "Hey, Y/N" he shook you lightly trying to get a few words out of you.  "Where are you staying? I‘ll take you there“  "The Ritz“  "Yeah sure“ he laughed. "You and the Ritz." He didn‘t believe you. Because the Ritz wasn‘t exactly what you would go for when touring with your band. Even though you could afford rooms there. Not the penthouse, but smaller ones.  "I‘m telling the truth Dan“  "Alright, alright“ he still didn’t quite believe it.  “I‘ll take you back to mine. You‘ll need loads of water and a hangover therapy tomorrow. This one‘s going to be massive“ You groaned as he picked you up and carried you to the cab. Then from the cab to his apartment. You didn‘t even know where you were, only that Dan was going to take care of you. He was always the dad of the group. Him and Joe, your bass player never stayed out late, never partied that much. Much to your advantage now. The next morning, you felt surprisingly not that bad. Which was like a miracle. Dan made sure you drank much water before going to sleep and as you got up from his couch to search for the kitchen, the table was already decorated with a large breakfast to help rise your low blood sugar levels. "Good morning Miss Vodka“ Dan looked up from his newspaper, a cup of coffee in his hand a grin plastered on his lips. Clearly because of your miserable state. "Haha“ trying your best to sound as sarcastic as possible.  "Good morning and thank you for bringing me here“ sincerely thanking him.  "Not a problem, you said something about staying at the Ritz" you downed one of the three ginger shots he prepared for you and put the glass down with a grimace. Damn those are disgusting.  "Yeah because I am“ Dan only looked at you, waiting for you to continue the story.  "Is Josh there? Oh, fuck right. I didn‘t congratulate you on the engagement. Fuck“ he blushed. You only shook your head lightly for him to stop, he knew you long enough to know you weren‘t mad at him about it.  "Do you have a pen and paper?" you asked tapping your fingers next the freshly toasted bread in front of you.  "Ah yeah sure“ he got up to grab it.  And came back with "Post its? Really?“ "Sorry it‘s the only thing I got. I just moved in here“ he threw his arms up in defeat.  You started scribbling. It felt like the words made their own way onto the paper.  "Are you like.. writing a song now?“ Dan looked over your shoulder as you placed yet another post it on top of the other 4 that were already full of ink. You only held a finger up, clearly a sign for him to shut up. A polite sign for him to shut up.  The lyrics where done in 15 minutes,with you throwing the pen on the table almost like a Mic drop.  "Done“ "You‘re crazy“ he stared at you with fascination from across the table.  "Can I see it?“  "Only of you agree to make a riff for it“  "Yeah... sure“ He agreed in a heartbeat.  And he grabbed the post its, reading out loud:  'Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts Flashbacks waking me up, I get drunk, but it‘s not enough. 'Cause the morning comes and you‘re not my baby.  I look through the windows of this love Even though we boarded them up Chandelier still flickering here 'Cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not It's death by a thousand cuts I dress to kill my time I take the long way home I ask the traffic lights if it'll be alright They say, "I don't know" And what once was ours Is no one's now I see you everywhere, the only thing we share Is this small town You said it was a great love One for the ages But if the story's over, why am I still writing pages? My heart, my hips, my body, my love Tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch Gave up on me like I was a bad drug Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club Our songs, our films, united, we stand Our country, guess it was a lawless land Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand Paper cut stings from my paper-thin plans My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust Tryna find a part of me you didn't take up Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts" By the time he finished reading it, you were sobbing. Having someone else read your material always made you feel vulnerable. But this time, the circumstances made the intensity almost unbearable.  "Do you want to talk about? You know we can discuss everything. We always did" he tried to help. "I.. I just want you to come back Dan. Please don‘t leave us hanging. I need you. There‘s no one else to talk to. We will talk this out with Sid. Please I want my best friend back.“  "Ok, let‘s do it“  While Dan kept fiddling around the guitar with 10 post its spread out in front of him, you decided to make a call, you feared since the minute Josh got down on one knee. Rufus.  "Yeah?“ A serious tone. No 'hello‘. No 'how are you‘.  "Hi Rufus“  "So... guess I’m not going to call you stepmom anytime soon?“ You were speechless.  "Was that all?“ He sounded rude, but he didn’t know any better in this moment.  "No“ you found your voice again.  "He didn‘t let me explain. I never said yes. I‘m not engaged, Rufus!!!!" "You‘re not??? He thought... you are and everyone said you... are you really not?" "No!! That‘s what I‘ve been trying to tell everybody! I‘m not engaged!!“ "Oh god. That man... I swear..“ he continued mumbling things that were inaudible "What do I do now?“  "umm he‘ll be at our concert... the day after tomorrow.. shepherd‘s bush..“  "I‘ll come there“ you enthusiastically announced.  "Good... maybeeeee you could get your ass up on stage for a special performance?“ he put on a silly voice, he always did this to make you laugh on tour. "Just like old times?" you could almost see the silly pout he would make, trying to give you puppy eyes.  "Ok, just like old times." You never doubted the abilities of anyone in your band and the riff that Dan created was proof enough. With the help of synthesizers, a piano part for the middle of the song was created, undoubtedly having a similar sound to the intro of 'Seven Seas of Rhye'. Intentionally of course. Bless technology you were able to send the sound samples to your other band members back in England. By midnight the track was finished. Ready to be released. And you did. At midnight the day you would meet Roger again. On your way back to England you transferred the 10.000 pounds Roger sent you, right back to him. And the headlines you‘d been avoiding started to make your phone explode.  The Sun: 'Y/N spotted drunk and alone in NYC after engagement‘ The Guardian: 'Did she say no to Josh? Here‘s why'  Daily Mail: 'New Purple Thunder song indicates Y/N had an affair all along‘ Daily Mirror: 'Y/N leaving Josh for married man?‘ You clicked through all of them. Inspected them. But thankfully no suspicion about who the song could actually be about. The day approached and it was an hour before showtime for The Darkness, but there was still no sign of Roger. You began imagining things, seeing him in the crowd as you peaked through the side stage curtains. But he wasn‘t there.  "He‘ll turn up“ Rufus stood behind you, his hand your shoulder. "My dad never lied to me. He sure won‘t start that bullshit now.“ That was Rufus, always trying to make a smile escape your lips.  The concert was almost over, when you joined them on stage for the last song and their most popular one. 'I Believe In A Thing Called Love‘. You owned the second verse and chorus and the crowd went crazy after recognizing you as special guest. It wasn‘t until  Rufus‘ drum solo that you recognized Roger looking at you in awe from the side of the stage.  Roger knew the picture in front of him just too well. Freddie always used to hype him up the way you did with Rufus. His heart swelled and he felt,it would jump out right  then and there. You bounced to the beat, head banging to the beat of the drums just like Rufus did, His messy blond hair sticking to his head. Rufus smiled at your reaction and hit the drums even harder.  Sadly, the song came to an end, but the adrenaline rush was there. Your heart was beating loudly, but seeing Roger smile proudly, clapping his hands... Boy.. you felt like having a  heart attack. He looked more handsome than ever. You bowed down with the whole band, but before you could make your way to Roger, Rufus gave you an encouraging pat on your shoulder. And as you got closer to where Roger was standing, his appearance became even more beautiful. His hair was messy, just the way you liked it. A bit ruffled. His black button-down shirt, with the top two buttons opened and blue eyes shining like the eyes of a little boy on Christmas morning. He still somehow had that boyish look and you adored it.  "Hi Rog-" He embraced you in a tight hug, the one‘d been craving since you returned to the empty penthouse.  "I‘m sorry. I didn‘t mean to make you feel that way. I should have listened. It‘s all my fault. I‘ve put everything upon you, when I shouldn‘t have. I thought you were playing me. But then again, I should have known that you would never do that. You would never do that...“ he buried his in your neck. "If I fucked it up and you never want to see me again, then I understand. But I wouldn‘t ever forgive myself for that.“  "I love you Roger“ he brought his head to your level again and there it was.  "I love you Y/N“ and your lips met. "Well that‘s new“ a surprised Justin (singer of The Darkness) caught your eye.  "Guys I’m happy for you “ he smiled was gone quickly after. "Let‘s get out of here“ Roger said quietly in a low voice, grabbed your hand and you snuck out through the back door, to his Kensington flat.  You knew you needed to talk about this whole situation again, but that could wait until tomorrow. Old scene, but a new picture. It was you and him on his massive crème couch, a movie on that was not worth watching. So youdozed off first, feeling Roger‘s arms wrapped around you, inhaling his scent. He kept playing with your hair, until he followed close behind. taglist: @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @nicola2388

[tynct]

Millions

masterlist

» summary: winwin pretends like the idea of never seeing you again doesn’t bother him, even though his parents had arranged the marriage between you two

» genre: fluff, angst

» words: 2.3k

» a/n: this was supposed to be only 1k words ghjk oops. send me an au from this list and/or a number with someone from nct

Coming from a long line of wealth, Winwin has never known normal. He’s been waited on hand and foot for as long as he can remember, his parents always absent because of their busy schedule. They can barely spend more than an hour in a room with him, too busy with running the business or meetings, always on the phone talking or emailing other companies about the lavish parties and small banquets they throw for no reason at all.

He’s become so numb to their words, never paying much attention to their short phrases to sit up straighter, or fix his tie, he almost doesn’t catch the words his mother throws at him over a glass of whine.

“What?” he blurts, and their heads snap up in his direction. He feels a chill run down his spine and he clears his throat. He’s immune to their icy stares, but it doesn’t stop him from dreading what comes after them.

“You’re of age,” his father repeats in the same monotonous tone as his mother. “It’s time you marry.”

Winwin has known of the marriage they arranged for him when he had been only a child, and they’d casually mention it now and again, but it had been brief and he only had to nod before the next topic had captured their attention. Only this time, both of their phones are on the table and his stomach is twisting painfully.

He’s barely 20, not even done with his studies. He knows he isn’t ready to give that up; he may never be ready, and he takes a sip of water to calm his racing heart. He knows if he refuses, he can say goodbye to his dream of ever leaving this place, because even though he is an heir to the company, they hold all of the money, and the money they’ve stored for him won’t be accessible for another few months.

The day of his birthday, he’s driving straight for the bank, emptying out his account, and disappearing. Nothing will get in the way of his plan, even if he has to play house and marry someone he’s never met before.

And so, Winwin forces himself to smile. “Of course.”

Time passes, and he almost forgets about their conversation until the day he’s supposed to meet the one he’s going to marry. He had been in the midst of preparing a route of places he’d visit once he was gone when there was a knock at his door, and he had nearly fallen off his chair trying to shove his notebook into the hidden slot beneath his desk.

Winwin smooths out his button up shirt he was told to wear, and nervously pokes his head around the corner. He is meeting his fiance in the gardens, and he wishes he had been able to pick a spot anywhere but there. He’s sure they’ve set up a dinner in the gazebo, the most open spot in all of the palace. His parents’ room is right above it, and there is not a doubt in his mind that they chose this exact spot to spy on him. If this marriage fails, he knows his parents would lock him away, forcing him to work for the company and never let him leave.

He had asked for any information on the person who was the key to him getting out, but all they had provided him with was with that he’s apparently met them before. That hadn’t helped at all, because he’s met plenty of suitable partners at the gala’s they throw and all throughout his life. It could be anyone at this point. Whoever it is, though, Winwin doesn’t want anything to do with them. He’ll put on a smile and act accordingly when he has to, and once behind closed doors, he’ll keep them at arms length.

The clicking of shoes against the ground has Winwin freezing. If they belong to his parents, they’ll grab him by the ear and no doubt drag him there like that to the gardens. He frantically looks around for some place to hide, and he dives for a storage closet. He almost doesn’t notice the other person inside until he crushes into them. The door clicks shut quietly behind him as he loses his balance, trying to reach for anything to catch himself on, but all he ends up doing is knocking over a few cans on the way down. Whoever he had ran into wheezes when Winwin slams on top of them, and he quickly pushes himself and hits the door backing away.

“Who are you,” he snaps instantly, eyes scanning the stranger that sits up with a wince. Their hair is a mess along with their clothes, and Winwin would feel bad if he didn’t remember the position he’s in. His parents have warned him of those who would want to hurt him because they felt wronged by the company, and he scrambles to reach for a anything as a weapon. His hand lands on a handle and he points it at them without realizing what it is, and you look at the feather duster in amusement.

“What, are you going to tickle me to death?”

“What are you doing here,” he waves the thing threateningly, but all it seems to do is make him cough from the dust flying off of it.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” you scoff, and Winwin nearly jumps when you grab his weapon from him and toss it to the ground. “But if you must know, I’m in here because I’m about to meet someone important, and I was just preparing myself.”

There’s a moment when Winwin squints at you in confusion, and suddenly it clicks that you’re his fiance right as the lid of the can he had knocked over pops open, and white paint rains down on both of your heads. Winwin gasps as it soaks his hair, staining his shirt and seeps into his shoes. You make a noise of surprise as well, and his heart flutters unexpectedly when you peer up and laugh when you meet his eyes.

“My parents are going to murder me,” Winwin breathes in shock, smoothing back his hair to keep the paint from getting anymore on his face. He has no idea what to do. There is no way he could sneak both of you out of the closet without dragging paint everywhere, and if there’s one thing his mother loves more than her phone, it’s the cleanliness of the estate. He had learned the hard way not to make a mess growing up.

You attempt to stand, but your foot slides and you groan when you hit the ground. “Wait,” you stop from trying another attempt of getting to your feet to frown at him. “Your parents?”

“Oh, right. My name is Winwin.”

“You’re my-” you cut yourself off to try and fix your appearance, but all you end up doing is spreading more paint across your cheeks and his lip quirks up. “It’s nice to meet you, Winwin. I’m Y/n.”

For the second time since he had stumbled into the closet, Winwin comes to another realization: he does recognize you. He had thought you looked familiar while he had been threatening you with the cleaning tool, and his parents were right, he has met you. He remembers you clearly; after all, how could he forget his first kiss? But judging from how you had introduced yourself, you don’t seem to recall. He figures it doesn’t matter anyways. He’ll be gone in a few months, and even if you did end up remembering, he doubts it’d make much of a difference. You were only children when it had happened.

And, as children do, he had developed a crush on you during the short time he had spent with you at a party your parents had thrown. It had taken them hours to find you two, hiding yourselves up in a tree he had eventually fallen out of. He had broken his arm, and you had been crying before he passed out. He woke up alone in his room, never to meet you again until now. He briefly wonders if your past will get in the way of him leaving, but he sends the thought away and grabs your attention when he clears his throat.

“Right, Y/n, I don’t know how else to put this, but if we don’t head to the gardens within the next 30 seconds, we’re both going to end up without heads.”

“Then how do we get out? We can’t stand.”

Winwin bites the inside of his cheek as he tries to figure out a plan, but all he can come up with trying to help each other up. He doesn’t want to know how badly that could end, probably with one of you slipping and landing on the other again, and he nearly flushes when he thinks about how he had knocked you to the ground.

“What if I help you, and you help me?” you say, voicing his exact thoughts, and for some reason against his better judgement, Winwin nods. “Okay, you stand first, and then help me up.”

He doesn’t know why he feels anxious to take your hands when you hold out them out. It’s not like he still has a crush on you after all these years, and he tells himself to suck it up as he places his palms against yours, and he immediately feels his entire face burn red. Maybe he does still have a crush on you, despite the white paint coating your clothes and matting your hair to your forehead.

With shaky legs, Winwin pushes himself up and manages to stand without a hitch, but when it comes to pulling you to your feet as well, his stomach erupts into butterflies as you tighten your grip when your balance wavers.

“Please don’t fall on me,” he mutters, more to himself than you, but your head snaps up and he stills.

“Don’t fall on you? You’re the one who fell on me after storming in here!”

He doesn’t know what to say when you abruptly let go and head for the door. You don’t wobble once till your shoulder bumps into his, causing Winwins shoe to glide forward, and without anything else to grab onto, he latches onto your arm. A fatal mistake, because in return, you jerk forward when he leans into you. The motion has the earth ripped out from beneath both of you, and he lets out a sharp yelp when his elbow cracks against the door handle. It sends the door flying open, taking away the very thing Winwin had been leaning against, and he tilts backwards, but not without dragging you down with him.

Winwin is thankful when you don’t land on top of him, because the fall alone hurt enough, not to mention the splitting pain shooting up his arm from the handle. He sits up with a choked breath, glancing at you as you do the same, and he covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing. The closet had been dark enough to hide just how much paint you were covered in, and even though it’s starting to cover his mothers precious carpets, he can’t help but find this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him, and his attempt at keeping himself in check fails when a muffled giggle escapes through his fingers.

“You’re laughing at me?” you say with a frown, but it cracks when he drops his hand and your smile matches his. “I guess we do look pretty ridiculous.”

“We need to get cleaned up and get to the gazebo before my parents start looking for us,” he mutters, sobering up at the mention of his parents and checks the hallways to make sure they’re clear before he stands. “We could run to my room, and-”

“Sicheng?”

His heart leaps to his throat at his name, and he whips around to find Kun gawking at his appearance with a book tucked under his arm. It drops as he rushes for him, but he stops when he steps in the puddle of paint..

“What the hell happened?” he exclaims, and he does a double take over his shoulder when he spots you. “Is that your-”

“Yes, that’s my fiance, now will you please help us so I can live to see another day?”

Kun hesitantly leads you both away from the crime scene, making you take off your shoes so you don’t leave a trail of evidence. You disappear into Kuns room, while Winwin runs to his to change and scrub the paint from his hair before it could harden, and fifteen minutes later, he knocks on Kuns door in a fresh outfit and no paint left on him. It had washed off easily under the scalding water.

Instead of Kun who answers, you emerge with a red complexion and new clothes. Winwin feels something in his chest twist when Kun waves as you begin heading down the hall.

“I saw them first,” Winwin hisses to Kun, and the smug look on his brothers face makes him regret his words.

“Winwin, you’re literally engaged.”

“I know,” he straightens the tie he had nearly strangled himself with only a few minutes before and squares his shoulders. “I’m just saying.”

Kun shakes his head and he closes his door, and Winwin hurries to catch up, sparing a suspicious glance at his brothers room before turning to you. He doesn’t know what overcame him to say that, and he pretends like the word jealousy isn’t bouncing around in his head. Why does he care if Kun does like you? He’ll be gone soon anyways, and he’d most likely never hear from or see you again. Winwin pretend like it doesn’t bother him as you approach the gardens, and he grits his teeth when he spots his parents lurking at the edge of the window.

Let the beginning of his fake marriage begin.

[mycsgoaccounts-blog]

The War on Used Games

Once we prepare for the coming wave of next generation systems, we should be anticipating improvements on all the good stuff we associate with the current crop of systems. Moving forward we expect: better graphics, faster processors, more fascinating games, you get the idea. But not everything that we're anticipating will be a progressive movement for gaming. At least, as far as Sony and Microsoft are concerned, you can wave goodbye to playing used games on their systems. Although these are simply rumors at this point, it wouldn't be surprising if they came to fruition. It's very plausible, especially when taking into consideration that a few game publishers have already fired shots at the used game market. Most notable is Electronic Arts(EA), who grew to be the first publisher to institute the practice of charging gamers, who bought used games, a charge to access codes that come with the game. To elaborate, Downloadable Content(DLC) codes are included with new copies of a certain game and only with those codes, can that content be accessed. EA expanded its project to provide playing used games online. Gamers would now have to pay $10, in addition to the cost of the used game they will purchased, in order to have access to the online components of their game. Ubisoft has since followed suit, requiring an internet pass for its games as well. You can identify the games which require an online pass as they uncovered the, "Uplay Passport", logo on the box. Ubisoft decided they'd take things a step further and additionally implement Digital Rights Management, a practice more often associated with DVD or CD anti-piracy efforts. Assassins Creed 2 was the first game to be effected by this practice. In order to play the PC version with Assassins Creed 2, gamers are required to create an account with Ubisoft and remain logged into that bank account in order to play the game. This means that if you lose your internet connection, the game will automatically pause and try to improve the connection. However , if you're unfortunate enough to be unable to reconnect to the internet you'll have to continue from your last rescued game; losing any progress you may have made since then. This will be the case for all of Ubisoft's PC titles, irrespective of one playing single-player or multi-player. While Digital Rights Management has been used to combat DVD and DVD piracy for quite some time now, this will mark the first time it's been used for a video game. In light of Ubisoft's guidelines of DRM, Matthew Humphries of Geek. com, cautions that it's feasible that eventually even console activities will require online registration in order to play them. So what's the reason for all of this? According to According to Denis Dyack, the top of Silicon Knights, the sale of used games is cannibalizing the profit of the primary performance market. He also claims that the used game market is somehow causing the price of new games to go up. His proposed solution is to move away from physical disks and embrace digital distribution. Essentially he'd wish to see services like Steam or EA's Origin replace traditional hard copies. There are even rumors that X-Box 720 will embrace the exclusive use of digital downloads and not use disks at all. Whether Ms will actually follow through with that plan remains to be seen. One could argue that Sony has already laid the bottom work for preventing used games from functioning on their future system. At the very least, they've already made quite hard work to make used games significantly less desirable. Kath Brice, of Gamesindustry. biz, reported that the latest SOCOM sport for PSP, SOCOM: U. S. Navy SEALs Fireteam Bravo 3, will require customers who purchase a made use of copy to pay an addition $20 dollars to receive a code for online play. I'd like to see a few quantifiable evidence to support the claim that used games are in fact hurting the sales of new games in any respect. Without some actual facts, it sounds to me like a whole lot to do about nothing. Case in point, within day Modern Warfare 3 sold 6. 5 million copies, grossing $400 million dollars in sales. Proper me if I'm wrong but you haven't heard Infinity Ward complaining about the used game market therefore affecting their bottom line. That's likely because they're too busy counting their money earned by constructing games that people actually want to play. Imagine that. Maybe the problem isn't that used games have a negative impact on that sale of new games but, the problem is instead that game developers need to make better games that people are willing to pay full price for. In my opinion, not every game is worth $60 simply because it's the suggested retail price. Considering things objectively, not every game is created equally, therefore not every game is worthy of costing $60. Whether it's since that particular game failed to meet expectations and live up to the hype or because it lacks any sort of replay benefits. It's ludicrous to argue that gamers should pay top dollar for every game especially when they all too often end up horrible disappointments, like Ninja Gadian 3, or they're riddled with glitches like Skyrim. I know that the War on Used Games is nothing more than a money grab by developers, upset that they're helpless to cash in on a very lucrative market. To put it in dollars and cents, in 2009 GameStop reported nearly $2. 5 million dollars in revenue from the sale of used consoles and used games. And not an individual red cent of that profit reaches the pockets of game publishers. Greed as the motivating factor for any declaration of War on Used Games is transparent. Especially when you consider that when GameStop began separating ones own revenue from new games and used games in their financial statements, EA thereafter instituted their $10 dollar fee for used games. In the absence of empirical evidence, I'll have to settle for anecdotal. I'll employ myself as an example. I'm planning to purchase a used copy of Ninja Gaidan 2 . I've never been a giant fan of the series. I didn't play the first one because I didn't have an Xbox and when it was an Xbox exclusive. And I never played the original version. Needless to say, I was never clamoring to play Ninja Gaidan 2 . However the innovation in the second incarnation of the game, which allows you to disembowel your enemies, is enough of a novelty that I'd like to play through it at some point. I can buy it today, used, for about 10 dollars. If it was only being sold at full price I would more than likely pass on playing the idea altogether or maybe rent it. My point is that game developers are not losing money because of used video game titles; you can't miss money you weren't going to receive anyway. They're simply not getting money they weren't visiting get to begin with. Unless you have a significant amount of disposable income and a considerable amount of free time, you're probably enjoy me and you prioritize which games you plan to purchase and how much you're willing to pay for them. You decide which often games are must haves and which games you'd like to play but are willing to wait for a price drop in advance of getting them. Then there are the games which you're interested in, but they tend to fall through the cracks because they really are not all that high on your radar and you'll maybe pick them up several months later, or even years when their release, if you ever pick them up at all. I find it ironic that the looming death of the applied game market could likely spell the demise of GameStop who, ironically, push their customers to help pre-order new games and purchase them at full price. One would think that game publishers would be appreciative about this product and not detest GameStop and treat used games with such scorn. Pre-orders not only help promote your games but they function as a forecast of potential sales as well. Even Dave Thier, a contributor with regard to Forbes Online, who describes GameStop as, "a parasitic bloodsucker that doesn't do much besides mark in place discs and sit in the mall", recognizes the folly of passing the burden of the used game sector onto the consumer. I've only once pre-ordered a game myself. At the behest of J. Agamemnon, I pre-ordered Battlefield 3, which is ironically a property of EA. I paid full price for this game and was happy to do it. In large part because I was granted access to several weapons and maps that I would have must wait to download had I not pre-ordered it. I propose that instead of punishing gamers for hoping save their hard earned cash, the gaming industry needs to learn to incentivize gamers into wanting to pony up to that will $60 dollar price tag. I titled this article The War on Used Games in an effort to be tongue-in-cheek in addition to poke fun at how whenever the government declares war on drugs or terror or whatever it usually is, they only succeed in exacerbating the problem. It should come as no surprise seeing as how the government tends to take probably the most asinine approach possible trying to "solve" problems. The end result is always the same; precious time and resources are wasted, along with the issue is that much worse than it was before they intervened. If the gaming industry does indeed drop this path; they'll only hurt themselves in the long run, fail to share in the revenue they so greedily covet and worst of all, hurt their customers, who keep the gaming industry abreast with currency. It's very ironic and actually very fitting that it's EA who are spearheading the effort to attack the used game market right after they themselves are one of the largest beneficiaries of used games. Chipsworld MD Don McCabe, told GamesIndustry. biz that EA has what he referred to as a "franchise software house" in that they "upgrade their labels; FIFA, Madden; all of these are effectively the same title upgraded each year. And people trade in last year's for this purpose year's. " He went onto say that those titles are the ones which are most often traded with. Shutting down the used games market effectively destroys a tried and true method in which fans of EA's franchises keep up-to-date with each of EA's annual releases. Aside from nostalgia, what would be the point of keeping FIFA 11, when FIFA 12 is right around the corner? Don McCabe, an executive at Chipsworld, teaches that, "consumers won't prosper under this new system, as copies of the game will lose their reselling value". He goes on to say that retailers will "just readjust [the price] bearing in mind you must buy the voucher. " The CEO of SwapGame cautions that "customers who trade in for cash and credit do so to acquire new games they could otherwise not afford. " This means that ultimately it will be the founder who ends up losing money because when retailers adjust their prices to reflect the increase in charge for used games, the resale value of the game will drop and new games are not as likely to be purchased.

[kellyzeagman]

A little back story

I have received so so so many questions about my job and how I got to where I am so I figured I would try my best to explain it here and share other experiences as time goes on. Most questions I don’t even know the answer to, so we will just have to wait and see!

After I graduated university, I always knew that I wanted to take the following year off. My main reason for doing so was to make some cash back after throwing it all away to McMaster, but also really wanted to just “chill out” and perhaps throw in some travelling as well. Then I thought of a way that I could do it all in one- Get a job on a cruise ship. My cousin had worked as a youth staff for a cruise line when she graduated from university, which gave me the idea to do the same and is something that I have genuinely thought about doing since high school. It was always on the back burner, but now it is now getting served to me on a hot silver platter. I finally jumped on it and decided to give it a go during the new year of my final semester. I was going to apply to be a youth counsellor just like her, as I figured it was my best shot because of all of the experience I have with kids and because I want to go into teaching. After countless applications for various cruise lines and many rejections, months later I was finally in touch with a cruise recruiter who was going to try and do her best to get me on board. We started talking in February. After this, I just had to be extremely patient. There was a looooooooot of waiting and wondering and emailing back and forth. In July (six months after applying), I finally got an interview. I truly couldn’t believe it. Anyways, the rest is history and now I have a job as a youth counsellor for Royal Caribbean’s “Voyager of the Seas”. I never thought i’d see the day, but alas!

The next part of the employment process has been just as crazy (in a good and exciting way). I would have never imagined that getting a job/ getting ready to be allowed on board would include so much extra work (and money haha). However, instead of having 6 months to prepare, it has all had to be completed in a matter of weeks. Visas, medical appointments, police checks, online training, employment background checks, bank changes, etc.. the list goes on forever and my bank account may never be the same.

When in the application process and after I found out I got the job, myself and everyone else were pretty much certain that I would be flying down to Miami and cruising around the Caribbean. I figured most of the big ships are down there, meaning thats where majority of the families and camp-going kids were going to be. I had also read that most first contracts are in the Caribbean because of how popular of a cruising destination it is. Imagine the surprise on my face (and my friends and family) when I got an email saying that I would be flying to SINGAPORE to embark on a cruise that travels through Asia, Australia and the South Pacific Islands for five months. I was (and still am) truly shook that I was given this location as my first contract.

It’s pretty laughable to me that my first ever flight alone is to the other side of the world. I’ve never even left North America. What on earth am I going to do for 20 hours alone on a plane? I really don’t know. Aside from bussing 12 hours to and from NYC twice, I have never travelled alone. Its going to be quite the journey. 20% of me is nervous and wondering “what IS my luck” that I got sent to the farthest location possible for this job and that I am doing it alone and am going to be away from home on legit the other side of the planet for five months. However, the other 80% of me is like “WHAT IS MY LUCK” in a good way, as in I cannot believe I am getting paid to work and travel in this part of the world. I would have never dreamed it. Life is crazy.

It has been a pretty crazy last few days filled with saying all of my goodbyes to friends and family and running hundreds of last minute errants. I’m definitely exhausted and overwhelmed, but that is a part of this experience.

Cruise ship life is bound to be pretty exciting, new and unique. This blog is to fill y’all in (if you are interested). ((Mostly this is to keep my family updated and let them know of my whereabouts over the next 5 months)). I have no idea how internet connection is going to work once I arrive, so it may be a while before I get to post on here again but I will try my best to keep people in the loop through photos and entries about what I have been up to and what cruise life is really all about.

Until then, I’ll be flying for the next 20 hours. <3

[diez-minutos]

Stronger (guzmán x reader)

Part 6 of the Promise series!

Pairing: Guzmán x reader

Warning: language

A/N: I think this was my favorite part to write so far, so I hope you enjoy. Gif is not mine!

“Guzmán!” you cried into the phone when he finally answered. “They arrested him. Guzmán, I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out.”

“I left as soon as I heard. I’m on my way to your place, okay? We’re gonna figure this out.”

When he finally arrived, he hugged you tightly as you cried into his shoulder. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. I shouldn’t be upset.”

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” he rubbed your back. “It’s okay to be upset.”

“What the fuck am I going to do?”

“Look at me,” he sighed. You did after a moment. “We can pay bail and everything will go back to normal.”

“Bail is three hundred thousand dollars, Guzmán. I can’t pay that. No one can fucking pay that!” you started to cry again. “No one’s going to want to help them, you realize that, right? My dad...your dad...they fucking screwed us over once again.”

“Hey,” Guzmán grabbed your wrists gently. “Baby, breathe with me for a minute, okay?” You nodded and followed his lead as he took a few deep breaths. “You and me. We’re gonna figure this out. We don’t need anyone else. It’s us against the world. No one can stop us.”

...

The next day, you walked into the cafeteria and saw Guzmán leaning against the vending machine when Lu approached him. “What are you doing?” she asked as she touched his shoulder. “Reading comments? Amor, that’s the last thing you should be doing.”

You were so tired and upset you couldn't even fight her anymore. You sat down next to Nadia and put your head on the table. She placed her hand gently on your shoulder for a moment. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it was comforting. You heard footsteps and felt another hand on your back that left as soon as you felt it. You knew your boyfriend’s touch, but couldn’t react.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You finally lifted your head. “Hm?”

“You can’t even console him?” Lu rolled her eyes at you. “I can’t believe you.”

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m going through the exact same shit he is, and I’ve been by his side since it happened.”

“You don’t give a shit about Guzmán,” she shook her head at you. “He needs someone better than you who can help him during times of crisis. Not make him feel worse.”

“Enough, Lu,” Nadia rolled her eyes. “Why do you always have to get in the middle of things? They’re clearly going through things and you’re just making worse.”

Lu was shocked and finally glared at you again. “He’ll realize it soon enough.” She stood up and walked out of the room.

“(Y/N)-”

“It’s fine, Nadia. I’m used to it,” you stood up. “Thanks though.”

...

“(Y/N),” you heard behind you at your locker. You turned around to see Ander’s mom. “How are you?”

“Alright,” you mumbled.

“I’ve let Guzmán know but if you need anything at all, Las Encinas wants to do what it can to help you right now.” 

“Thank you,” you nodded and started to leave.

“And-” she put her hand on your shoulder gently. “Our family is here for you.” You simply nodded again. “Why don’t you come and stay over tonight? It must feel so lonely by yourself.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

...

On your way to Ander’s, you both stopped at Guzmán’s house.

“Hey,” Ander hugged him.

“Hey, Amor,” you kissed him quickly.

“How are you, man?” Ander asked.

“Fine,” he shrugged. “Glad to see you.”

“I came to see if there is anything I can do for you,” Ander responded.

“Do you have 300,000 bucks?”

“Guzmán,” his mom groaned and you rolled your eyes. “Please,” she turned to you and Ander. “Hi.”

“Hello,” you both responded.

“We don’t have the money. Not for the bail, the lawyers, nothing. Our accounts are empty. We are penniless. Dad left us nothing. So I guess he’s going to spend the next 20 years in fucking jail.”

You grabbed his arm gently and rubbed it.

“And she’s so calm. I don’t get it,” Guzmán didn’t even react to you.

“That’s enough,” his mother responded.

“Why don’t you ask for help at a bank?”

“No one wants to be linked to us right now,” you mumbled.

“What about a friend with money?”

“No one wants to call us,” you sighed.

“Not even Carla’s father,” Guzmán added. “And he’s their partner. My godfather. And our consultant,” he shrugged you off. “That’s how toxic we are, Mama.”

“Maybe we should call them,” she sighed.

You watched as Ander went to talk to Marina and you turned to Guzmán.

“Us against the world right?” you placed your hands on his chest.

“The world didn’t leave us much of a choice.”

...

You sat at your desk looking at your phone when Guzmán sat next to you. “I’m gonna go visit my dad after class. Do you want to come?”

“Only to support you. I don’t want to talk to my dad.”

“(Y/N), have you even thought about how you’re gonna get him out? Or what you’ll do if you can’t? You’re still a minor and who knows what will happen.”

“I know.”

He grabbed your hand gently. “Let’s go talk to them.”

“Fine,” you nodded.

...

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw and felt as your dad sat across from you.

“Papá,” you mumbled.

“Hija,” he smiled. “I miss you.”

You could only nod in response.

“Say something please, Hija.”

“You’re all I have, Papá...Actually...fuck that you and Guzmán were all I had and you let me down. You have a daughter!” You were getting angry. “I exist! And I am worth so much more than your stupid company that isn’t going to do well anyway. You treat people, me, like shit and expect them to forgive you. And you know what? I have no fucking idea how you’re gonna get out because no one wants to help us. Papá, no one cares about us and you know what will happen if you can’t get out? They’ll take me away, Papá. You know what else? I hope they do.”

“You cannot talk to me that way. I’m your father,” he was getting angry too.

“Are you? Because I don’t think a father would jeopardize losing his only daughter. His only family he has left might I add.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know. Bye, Papá.”

When you were out of the building, you ran to Guzmán’s arms and cried into his shoulder. “We have a plan, Amor,” he stroked your hair. “I can get my dad out in a few days then he’ll pay your dad’s bail. We’ll have our family back.”

“You’re my only family, Guzmán.”

...

That evening you decided to stay the night at Guzmán’s. When he got up to go to the bathroom, Marina walked into the kitchen. “I wanted to tell you that Lu is going to get the scholarship.”

“How do you know?” you laughed. “Rankings haven’t-”

“She’s doing Martín a favor, so she’s gonna get it.”

“Fuck,” you laughed sadly. “That’s fucking great. My one chance to actually be able to go to school.”

“What do you mean? It’s not like you don’t have the money.”

“My father is in fucking prison, Marina. And unlike yours, no one wants to help him.”

“Hey,” Guzmán wrapped his arm around gently. “We’re gonna get him out. He’s going to get out and everything will be fine.”

“No, it won’t,” you sighed. “Lu’s getting the scholarship.”

“How do you-”

“She’s doing Martín a favor,” Marina explained.

“Fuck,” he looked at you. “I’m sorry, Amor.”

“Guzmán, what if you can’t get him out? I have no money. I can kiss Las Encinas goodbye.”

“Did she tell you this?” Guzmán looked at her seriously. She didn’t respond. “Marina, you have to tell someone.”

“I just wanted you to know, (Y/N),” she walked out of the room.

“Look at me,” Guzmán held your face gently. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens with our dads, I am with you through all of it. I promise.”

You nodded and started to cry again. “I love you, Guzmán.”

“I love you,” he kissed your forehead.

[abcreid]

Sober (5)

Spencer Reid x Reader

Oh for this moment, i submit this story as a challenge from @spence-imagines and it’s week two, the ’angst’ story and the prompt is “Practice makes perfect, babe.” Idk why i chose that prompt lol maybe i too confident and Idk if the story will be good or not and I know it getting worse every part i posted but enjoy everyone! (I demand you to read the previous part before you read the recent!)

Previous Part

Masterlist

-

You spent your most time hanging out with Garcia. Because you have 2 purposes. Digging more about Dorian and because you like Garcia a lot. She helped you when nobody else could. But she is a terrible person at keeping a secret. It ever happened one day when you told him a secret about ‘Spencer’, then she accidentally told Spencer himself.

Actually your job was important to you, but this is more important than everything.

It’s been a month since you quit your job. But you still have the money saving in your bank account. It’s the only thing you could survive from this ‘stalking’ mission. Yeah, you are stalking Dorian Loker right now. You finally knew where she lived, what building she worked at, what her favorite food, what place she usually hang out with Spencer. Yes, she turned out back on track with Spencer. Your blackmailed over her wasn’t work as you planed.

“Hey what are you thinking about?” Garcia called you several times before you back into reality.

“Oh... nothing... i was thinking about having a cat in my place... it would be nice... i guess...,” you lied to her because you don’t want her to know your wild thoughts about everything. “Do you have any meds or something? My body feel not good and I’m kinda dizzy and nausea.” You touch slowly your forehead and you feel no burn.

Wait, you feel something strange about this. You are late for 2 weeks and it couldn’t be about ‘it’ right?

“Have you eaten yet? Or maybe you’re pregnant ha ha...,” her laughed stop when she realized something. “Aren’t you pregnant? YN! You should check to the doctor right now! I will go with you now.” Garcia stand up and getting ready to bring you to the nearest hospital.

You faked your laugh. “What are you talking about? I just had my period few days ago. Chill, baby. I’m not pregnant.” You tried hard not to be panicked around her. Because you scared to the hell if you really pregnant.

“Oh thank god! I’m so relieved! I thought you pregnant with Reid!” She went back to her magic chair and start typing something to her keyboard.

Pregnant with Spencer? He’s the only one you had sex with after that one moment. This is bad. No, this is good. This is great! This is your chance to banish Dorian for good. So Spencer will be with you forever. No, this is terrible.

-

You bought two tests pack before you go back to your place. You really want to make sure there isn’t any baby in your womb. Your heart beats fast, you’re sweating while on your way to home. You can’t imagine if you’re pregnant, what will you do with your life?

You finally at home and tried the test pack. There’s two red lines showed up before your eyes. It means you’re positive.

You dropped it and crying. This is bad. This is disaster. What if Spencer find out about this? You realized he didn’t like you anymore. He hated you. He didn’t look at you when he came to Garcia’s room. He knew about the threat you did to Dorian. He knew everything. God, this is very bad.

But you made your decision. You will fight for this baby. You will never give up on your baby. You will get Spencer back to your life no matter what it takes. You will banish Dorian Loker for good. She didn’t belong to Spencer, but you are.

Since you knew where Dorian lived, you will start your mision from there. You will tell her about everything you did with Spencer.

Hours passed by, you finally made it to her door. You brought her cakes so she would be open the door for you. You knocked on her door and she opened it. When she looked at you, she closed the door again leaving you standing alone. “Hey Dorian, I’m not gonna kill you or something, i want to talk to you.” You shout a little loud because you felt annoyed right now. You already prepared your gun with silencers you hide on your bag.

Minutes later she opened the door, but she stand there and didn’t let you in. “What do you want?” She asked you harshly, remembering you tried to broke her and Spencer apart.

You about to tell her, but when you looked at her red eyes, must be from crying, you suddenly have another idea. “I want... to apologize for things I’ve done to you. I realized i was selfish for wanting him for myself only. And i knew he is with you now and... i deeply want to say sorry. Thats all.” You gave your best decent face to her, so she could believe you lies. And you handed her the cakes you bought. To support the lies you made. “I’m sorry for bothering your night. I hope you forgive me.” You smiled to her and tried to leave her door.

But after 10 steps, she called your name. “YN. Wait.” You looked back and she smiled to you. “Come in.”

Yes! Your plan in worked! She believed your lies and you came in to her place with a pride. She really got into your trap.

“I forgave you, YN.” She made you a cup of tea and sit beside you. “This is unbelievable. You came here to apologize to me.”

“Yeah, it takes weeks for me to practice myself at mirror, i was scared you never forgave me, but i finaly did it. Practice makes perfect, babe.”

She laughed at your pun, and so were you. She didn’t realize it was just a set up. Who really wants to apology to her though?

“Thanks, Dorian. And btw can i have your number? In case i need your help at something? If you want it of course.” You laughed weirdly but she gave you her number anyway. God, I’m such a good actress.

Half an hour passed, mostly she talked shit about Spencer, her job, her perfect life and her perfect relationship, you had no option left but tried to listen to it all, you say goodbye to her and you left her apartment.

“Thank you Dorian Loker. You made me easier to kill you.”

-

(Oh no this isn’t angst at all)

Next Part

[helenofsimblr]

1 week later…

John had been staying at his parents house for the week but now was deciding he would move back to his apartment in the city. One morning John decided to depart quietly and without fuss, sadly, his father was up and awake waiting for him. 

Bob: Thinking of sneaking off without saying goodbye?

John: Not at all dad. But you know I don’t like a fuss. What  you doing up this early?

Bob: I’m just getting back into routine. I always was an early riser you know this. Anyway, before you go I want you to come with me.

John: Its ok, I was gonna grab breakfast on the way…

Bob: Its not breakfast I’m offering. You don’t want my cooking son.

***

They rounded the corner into the dining room. John had the shock of his life when he saw a huge pile of money arranged into a neat pyramid on the table.

John: Uh, what is this? 

Bob: Its for you. 

John: How… how much is that?! Dad I can’t take that money, that’s too much! For the love of… that’s a kings ransom there.

Bob just waved his hand dismissively.

Bob: I’ve spent years risking life and limb, that’s my danger money there. And I want you to have it. And in answer to your question, its $50,000.

John: What?! Dad no… you can’t give me that!

Bob: John, I can, and I shall. I know that you have dreamed of running your own business and this is your start up money. You could get it from me, or you can get it from the bank. Personally, I would recommend me.

John was utterly lost for words. He just held his hands out trying desperately to articulate what he was feeling.

John: Its too much! 

Bob: Honestly John the more you stand here arguing with me, the more I am going to insist. Now bag that up, and I’ll give you lift into the city and you pay that straight into your account. 

John: But dad…

Bob: John, shut your pie hole, and collect the money.

***

After collecting the money they made their way outside as Bob prepared to drive John into the city. John seemed rather confused with how well his father seemed to be doing after being put through an ordeal. 

John: You sure you’re ok?

Bob: I am fine. Why?

John: Well you been through hell, and… then there’s that money, I don’t want you to later on look at your bank statement and think “Oh crap, why’d I do that?”

Bob: John, you’re my son. Giving to you is never cause for regret. And you should be grateful Lyra and I are in a position to do these things for you. We do them, because we want to. Now come on, lets get you back to your place and you can soon consider an upgrade.

Bob gave John a loving, fatherly pat on the back as they headed to the car.