#because what better story to share with ten year olds than a woman killing her entire family?

[lovebirdgames]

Rebecca’s story doesn’t take center stage in Band Camp Boyfriend. Her presence is small, but her influence is large. Did you know you can hear Rebecca’s voice on the phone? Were you able to spot the family’s gravesite? And can you name the two moments her thoughts came through in the voice of another? 

Or did her presence go completely over your head? Heheh.

[strawbeerossi]

I seen that you write angst and I have an idea to share with you because of some personal things that I went through with my own family.

Do you think you can write something about fem!reader and Spencer finding out that one of their children has leukemia? Maybe with death involved to show how intricate this situation can affect families? I know it’s a very loaded topic so I completely understand if you don’t wanna do it but I think you’d master the topic beautifully based off of your angst writing. ❤️

I hope you’re doing alright today, Tay

First off, I’m so sorry for your loss, lovebug. I hope I do this justice and thank you for trusting me with this topic. My DMs are open if you ever need to talk. 🩵

And I'm good today, thank you, honey.

Vilomah: Bereaved Parents

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After their son succumbs to his illness, the Reid parents have to navigate the grieving process together along with the team who are there to help.

Content Warning: Child death, leukemia, details about a hospital stay, extreme grief after loss, a child’s funeral, parental grief, mentions struggles with eating, spousal argument, lots of tears, descriptions of feeling empty and depression, the team is there for the Reids, spousal comfort, hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 3.3K

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

I cried like a baby writing this. I hope I captured what you were looking for anon.

“Memories saturate my heart and the story of you spills from my eyes.” – Grace Andren

There were many horrors that Spencer faced in his line of work; murderers, rapists, cannibals, the lot of it. He was also faced with grief more often than not, losing Maeve and Gideon being the two most notable times where he was forced to face the fact that everybody dies at some point, no matter who they are. 

That wasn’t enough to prepare him for the cruelest thing life had to throw at him. Benjamin was diagnosed with leukemia when he was just two months shy of four-years-old, more specifically it was Chronic Myeloid Leukemia. 

The first few months were seemingly okay. He was responding well with the treatment, his little body growing stronger with each passing day. There were plenty of ice cream days to celebrate whenever Ben could function as good as he could before the cancer. Not to mention all the gifts his aunt Penelope would send.

There was hope, so much hope that Y/N and Spencer didn’t let the thoughts of losing their son loom over their head.

That was until he got sick again, this time much worse. It happened suddenly, Ben went from eating some fruit snacks and watching a movie to losing consciousness and growing pale. Spencer never thought he could get home faster than what he did when he got the phone call. Emily sent him home immediately after hearing the news, telling him to get home to his family and that she would check in.

The next few weeks were spent in the hospital, the bright lights being harsh on the eyes of the sore eyes of the Reid parents. Y/N didn’t sleep but for a few hours a night, any small movement or sound from Ben or his machines waking her up. Spencer had grown to not sleep for that long, surviving off maybe an hour a night and ten cups of coffee to push forward the following morning.

However, the suffocating realization of the inevitable was starting to soak in. Spencer wanted nothing more than for his son to make a recovery but as a man of science, that hope dissipated as he noticed the signs. People got better before death, so whenever Ben was showing all the signs of surging, it was enough to kill Spencer.

Even after they had a conversation with their doctor, the woman telling them that surging typically happens one to two days before death, it was like Y/N wouldn’t take that. She would say that he was fine, that he was healing. 

It was denial. 

The day they lost him was the hardest of them all. The air was suffocating that morning, there being a bitter winter chill. Spencer had gone to work, as usual. There was a case, one about a man who was killing women who resembled his birth mother after she rejected him from her life. He was distracted, like any father on the verge of losing his child would be.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone to work but he was losing his mind, being overwhelmed with the knowledge of the inevitable. He liked to think that if he and Y/N didn’t discuss it, it wasn’t real. As a man of science, he knew the risks of believing something like that.

Still, he gave himself false hope. 

However, his heart stopped beating for a split second as he could feel his phone buzzing, the world freezing around him as he couldn’t hear the others around him. He knew what this call was. It took JJ shaking Spencer’s shoulders to snap him out of his thoughts. “I have to go.” 

Making it to the hospital, he dreaded going inside. However, he was running through the hospital doors not bothering to check in at the front desk as he was going as fast as his legs could carry him to reach his son’s hospital room. 

Judging by the heart wrenching screams of agony from his wife on the other side of the door, Spencer knew what to expect as his shaking hand was opening the hospital door. The sight of his wife cradling their son was enough to make him drop to his knees. 

The nurses and doctors looked at the small family, feeling the sting of heartache as they’d gotten to know the Reid’s over the past year.

Spencer’s legs were like jelly, the tears cascading his face being enough where he was sure he could fill up the hospital room in tears, enough to drown in. They were able to stay as long as they wanted to, even if it was hours later. 

“Do you have his blanket?” Y/N asked, voice raw from the screaming and uncontrollable sobbing from before. “I don’t want him to get cold..” She whispered, looking at their son who looked like he was sleeping against his father’s chest. “In the bag.” The words were shaky, the father keeping his son close while letting his forehead rest against Benjamin’s smaller one.

After they were laying the little boy down again, Y/N was slowly putting the blanket over the child before she was leaning down to kiss his forehead, which had begun to grow cold from the hours his parents took to say goodbye. The parents clung to one another as they were being forced to walk out of the hospital. 

After that, their life lost all its color. Waking up to an alarm rather than to a happy little boy jumping on their bed just wasn’t the same. There was no laughter in the house, no warmth. The atmosphere was just as cold as the weather outside. No matter how many days that Penelope came over with baskets filled with small goodies to try and lift their spirits, or how Luke would come by to check in and bring food over that the two parents just couldn’t stomach.

The day of the funeral was when every ounce of denial was fizzing away. Next came anger. Y/N was moving a bit slow, honestly not wanting to rush and be greeted with the sad looks of their friends and family. Spencer was ready twenty minutes prior, wanting to rush the grieving process and just accept everything immediately, even if it was impossible.

“Please hurry up.” His voice was laced with irritation, making wife look up from her shoes as she was playing with the strap. “I am hurrying..” She spoke softly, a frown on her face as she slowly got the shoes on. “You don’t have to have an attitude, by the way.” 

That was the start of something ugly.

“Well, you don’t have to take thirty years and expect Benji to walk through the door.” The words were deep cutting, very uncharacteristic of the loving man she married.The words had his wife stunned in place, her mouth falling open. “You don’t have to be an asshole and keep reminding me of where we are going.” She spat, moving to brush her hair back before standing.

“You can’t keep acting like things are going to change. He’s gone, Y/N. No matter how bad we want him back, we will never get him back.” They were growing angry at one another at the wrong time. Before the yelling could start, there was a soft knock on the door. With a soft sigh, Spencer was turning around and heading to the sound of the soft knocking. 

The sight behind the door was enough to make his heart clench. There was Derek, the man offering a sad smile. “Hey, kid. I came to pick you two up. How’s the missus doing?” He asked, chuckling as Spencer was rushing to tightly hug his best friend, his hand slowly patting the younger male’s back. “Hi Derek.” Y/N offered a weak smile once she was closing the bedroom door. 

“Hey mama.” His voice was soft and careful, heading over to wrap his arms around the woman before kissing her cheek. “I was thinking that after everything, we could all go out to lunch.” He wasn’t stupid, he could tell that the two parents were neglecting themselves, he’d talked to the team. 

This was a sensitive time, so he understood. However, he wasn’t going to sit idly by either. He’d be damned if he let them both slowly waste away. Benjamin sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted that. 

“I don’t know, Derek. I don’t think I can deal with everyone looking at us with pity. You know how many people have told me that they hugged their babies tighter because of this situation? It hurts. Not nearly as helpful as people think..” The woman spoke while slowly rubbing her face.

“It’ll just be us. The team, our family.” He attempted to coax both parents, the two not being able to get out of it in the end.

The three eventually made it to the graveyard where they were confronting the one thing that they didn’t want to face. The Reids were approaching the plot that they’d purchased for the family, Y/N having to collect herself at the sight of the coffin waiting by the open plot. 

“There you two are,” Penelope looked like she’d been sobbing already, her arms wrapping tightly around both parents. That was where the floodgates broke, both of them tightly clutching onto the blonde enough to suffocate her. 

The ceremony was beautiful, despite the flood of tears and pain deep in the chests of all that were closest to the child who they were laying to rest. It was something honorable, Benji even having his uncle Aaron there to say a final goodbye. Even surrounded by love, there was still an emptiness, a void that would never be filled. 

What came next made things worse, the parents having to say goodbye as soon as the casket was being lowered in its plot, Y/N and Spencer wrapped up in one another’s embrace while their hands were clutching each other’s clothing. The wife was letting her head rest against her husband’s shoulder, their tears soaking one another’s clothes and hair.

It was just them now, with the ghost of their sweet angel who would keep a watchful eye over his parents, whether they knew it or not.

Dave was approaching the parents, his hand resting on Spencer’s shoulder as he cleared his throat to catch their attention. “I want you both to know that I will be here for you both, always.” David Rossi, the father of the team, it seemed. As well as being uncle Dave to all the kids, Benji included. 

“I heard that you two agreed to come to lunch.” He spoke softly, eliciting a small smile from Y/N. “We are.” She said softly, truly unable to say no to him. “We are having it in my backyard. Why don’t you two ride with me?” He suggested, making both Spencer and his wife look at one another.

They weren't getting out of this, so they complied and followed behind David.

The only problem was that so many amazing things happened in that backyard, Benji’s baby shower being one of them.

“Baby Reid is getting so big,” JJ gushed, her hand on Y/N’s swollen bump as the woman laughed in content. “Isn’t he? He’s also been kicking the hell out of my ribs, I feel like he's punishing me.” Y/N joked.

Finding out that she was pregnant was the best thing that ever happened. Of course, there were jokes of Spencer and Y/N not even waiting a year after they got married before she was already pregnant.

It was funny, really. Spencer was highly convinced that the baby was conceived on the first week of their honeymoon, the two being a little too into that talk while they were in the middle of sex, the filthy words of her being swollen with his baby becoming literal.

Diana was thrilled the moment that she saw her son and his wife on one of their visits, the woman being more thrilled at the prospect of her little Spencer having a child of his own. She would say that she knew before they even told her. 

“Mothers always know, Spencer. We are animals, we can feel things.” Were her exact words, something that she said Y/N would understand one day.

“Bella!” David smiled, the term of endearment being a newer one that he used for Y/N after the pregnancy, something about how she looked gorgeous because she was glowing. It was sweet, she had to admit it. “Hi, David.” Y/N grinned, her arms wrapping around the older man in a hug before she was pulling away. “You and Penelope did a beautiful job, by the way!”

Almost as if she were summoned, the bubbly blonde was hurrying over to flash a smile. “There you are my gorgeous girl! How are you feeling?” She asked, her hand cautiously rubbing her baby bump once Y/N gave her the okay.

“I’m doing good, actually. This boy is gonna be the death of me though. I was craving dirt the other day.” Her nose crinkled. “Weirdness. However, this baby is a Reid so that’ll explain it better than anything else.” Penelope joked. 

“It’s actually more normal than you might think. One theory links pica cravings to iron deficiencies. Another theory suggests these cravings develop as an adaptive response to the way the immune system changes during pregnancy.” Spencer smiled while letting his arms wrap around his wife from behind, his lips pressing a kiss to her cheek before his hands were coming underneath the heavy bump, lifting it up gently to take some of the pain from his wife’s back.

It was enough to make the woman sigh of relief as her head was tilted back against his shoulder. “You are such a lifesaver.” She breathed while briefly closing her eyes. 

Spencer was attentive and loving, paying attention to her much more after the pregnancy was discovered.

This was a dream.

This was a nightmare, the memories rushing back to Y/N as she was walking into the backyard where all those sweet memories lived. It was emotionally draining, so much so that her hand was reaching aimlessly for Spencer’s.

As soon as her husband realized what she was doing, he was slowly approaching his wife and letting his hand tightly grip onto hers. He didn’t realize how bad they needed this, to have a reminder that they still had each other. He figured it was implied but this made a bit of weight lift off his chest. 

“I know it may be a bit hard to laugh right now,” Penelope began as she was offering a smile. “But I know how much Benji used to love having dinner with all of us, no matter where we went.” She began, making a soft, sad smile spreading across Y/N’s face. 

“So, I figured that I would honor one of my favorite godson’s in the best way possible. Instead of boring adult food, I made extra sure to get the best of the best.” Being a four-year-old, Benjamin was just as picky as the next kid. 

“Don’t tell me,” Spencer began, looking over as she was happily showing off the meal she had catered. It consisted of all the essential food groups of a young child; chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and french fries. 

Hank, Michael, Henry, the Simmons children and Jack were all over the idea of that. The adults, though, couldn’t help the soft laughter. “Benji would definitely approve.” Y/N offered a soft smile, shaking her head fondly. “Even up until the end, he had to have his nuggets.” Spencer added, a few tears springing up in his eyes at the pleasant memory, even in the darkest time of their lives.

“I don’t want that..” Benjamin wrinkled his nose as he was pushing away the soup that the hospital was giving him, making Spencer look up from his book. “It’s good for you, Benji. Try it.” He urged on, a smile as he put the book down after finding his bookmark. 

“Daddy, no. It’s yucky. It smells yucky.” He continued on, the four year old running the spoon through the bowl.

Like his mother, he was dramatic about it, gagging at the mere thought of eating what he was given. “I want chicken nuggets.” He whined out, now looking at his mother, who was sighing in content. 

“Take a few bites and try it! If you try it and you don’t like it, I’ll go get you some nuggets. Sounds fair?” She asked, keeping the stern tone yet offering a sweet smile, knowing damn well that he’d get his way in the end anyway. Even if he liked the soup.

“I’ll try it but I might be sick, mama.” He warned, looking at the broth with vegetables before he was taking a good amount on the spoon.

He eyed it over before pushing it into his mouth. Both parents couldn’t help the laughter falling from their lips as Benji pulled a face, looking offended he was even made to try it.

“Blegh! Nasty!” The animated child was pushing the tray table away as Y/N was already getting up to grab her keys. “I’m going! I’m going! Make sure that you watch your daddy, you know he likes getting into too much trouble.” 

As everyone had a plate in front of them, everyone was looking at the Reids, expectant of them to get up. Derek was the one who was already making two plates before placing them down in front of the two. “There you are pretty boy and pretty girl, no need to get up.” He knew what he was doing.

Even with the lack of appetite, Y/N was slowly picking up her fork before collecting a bit of the mac and cheese on her fork, slowly moving to push the fork in her mouth. She didn’t realize just how hungry she was before that bite. Of course, barely eating for two weeks would do that to you.

Spencer seemed to be on the same page, the two unknowingly eating like they hadn’t eaten in years. The group said nothing about it, although they shared collective glances and their eyes were glistening over with relief. 

They were eating enough to actually keep themselves alive, to keep themselves from falling ill and being stuck in the hospital being fed through IVs. After all they went through, they didn’t need to be in another hospital for a long time.

The rest of the day was spent with their family rather than them being locked up at home, real smiles gracing their features for the first time in forever. Being together in a quiet home was taking a huge hit at their mental health. 

This was what they needed. Their full support system. 

It was later on in the evening before Y/N and Spencer had gotten home, the two ordering takeout for dinner whenever they arrived at home. The wife was looking over the picture of their family that she had hanging up in the kitchen, a soft smile on her face. He looked so peaceful today, didn’t he?” She asked, her voice soft.

“No more pain, no more weakness.. Just peaceful.” Spencer added on, looking up from his hands. “Y/N.. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It was horrible to say,” He said as his wife was offering a gentle smile. “I understand. It’s hard right now but.. Spencer, I love you. With every fiber of my being. Please remember that.”

It was what he needed to hear, his head nodding. “I know. I love you so much, baby. Thank you. I’m here for you, even if you just need to cry and be taken care of.” The taller man was standing up before heading over to tightly hug his wife. “You’re so strong. So fucking strong.” He spoke softly while kissing the top of her head. 

All they needed to power through this together was each other, they would make it through this for Benji over all else. It was what he would've wanted , their love to persevere. 

[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Molly knows about the reader’s relatives and she’s not so sure to put her trust in a girl that had just betrayed her own family

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hi! i’m so happy that you guys liked this thing! thank you so much for your support and, again, if you want to keep reading this let me know. Same note as ever, english not my mother language, so tell me if something’s is wrong.

Chapter 2: Not your family

The next morning turned out to be quieter than you imagined.

You slowly got out of bed and looked at everything around you noticing how quaint Bill's old room was. The ceiling was lined with grainy wallpaper with stacks of photographs of Quidditch players hanging from the reeds that moved from side to side, simulating the playing field; the right side of the room had a huge hole behind the small stool that tried to hide it, and from that hole a small garden gnome was sleeping peacefully with a small piece of cloth on top of his head. You stood up, walking towards the huge window that gave you a beautiful view of the Weasley's garden that at that moment was covered by a thin layer of drizzle that had fallen during the night.

Molly's fruit trees gleamed under the faint rays of the sun and you saw how a doxy from between the leaves poisoned Mrs. Weasley's apples, causing them to fall from the tree branches in a thick black mass with a foul smell coming out of it. You shook your head, excited to witness a very different way to wake up.

Even though several minutes have passed since you woke up, the house continued to remain in a strange silence that made you think that the family had decided to leave the burrow with the intention of buying more supplies or something like that. You knew that Bill wasn’t at home precisely for his obligations within the Order, so you didn’t worry about looking for him around the room, so you decided that a better option was going down to the dining room and know what was happening.

As you went down the spiral staircase, you cursed in a whisper when you forgot to put on your slippers before leaving the bedroom cause the floor was so cold that you slipped a couple of times. Back in the days, when you were still welcome in your parents' house, you had many servants who did all the things for you - putting on your shoes as soon as you woke up was one of those things - but now that your life had changed so much, you assumed that you would have to adapt and start taking care of your own needs.

Your curious eyes roamed the walls covered in family photos that caused a big warmth in your chest. In each of those photographs, all of Molly's children appeared along with their father, smiling for the camera and sending effusive greetings. A pic was hanging at the fireplace were Molly and Arthur were carrying a small white bundle crying his lungs out. You assumed it was Bill as his parents seemed too young back then and even as a small baby, you could recognize those tantrum features anywhere.

A giggle escaped your lips when you noticed a funny sequence from that same photo in which, even with Bill crying in his mother's arms, his father tried to carry him for a moment to calm him down, however the baby's cries didn’t stop. The baby was so annoyed that he ended throwing up  the milk ration that he must have had before the photo session on his father's neat shirt.

You laughed because you knew that William's impertinence was something he had carried with him for several years now.

"Bill hates those photos." You jumped in your place scared to see Molly standing behind you. Your cheeks turned red “He says that it’s embarassing but i think that’s nonsense. He was an adorable baby”

"he was," you answered, looking anywhere but into Molly's shrewd eyes. "but I guess displaying them in the fireplace isn’t the right thing to do."

“Is it not?

"No, they should be at the front door where everyone can see them”

Molly giggled as you watched the sequence of photos over and over again. A silence settled between you, but surprisingly it was not an awkward silence, but one that was allowing you to create a bond that neither of you expected. Mrs. Weaslsey brought up a rag, wiping it around the corners of the photo from the dust.

"Arthur and I had to save up for months to take those pictures," she mentioned wistfully, "we just had Bill and it seemed like a good idea to welcome him into our family with a gesture like that. Arthur was new in the ministry and wasn't earning too much, but we had that quirk and decided we could afford to skip certain things to pay for the pictures. It cost us ten galleons and it still took us four months to gather them”

“Oh” You didn't know what to say, but you just kept looking at the photograph feeling a bit uncomfortable. You never had those problems at home because your family was insanelly rich thanks to the inheritance in life that your grandfather Tim had left to his son and later to his grandchildren. Even the descendants of your grandfather's servants came to work in your house, reason enough for you and your siblings to grow up with no sense of responsibility other than your own wishes. Molly sighed remembering those times when life seemed to be easier.

"So when Bill asked me to remove it from the fireplace, I refused. He doesn't know how hard it was to raise that money, but I think he has nothing to be ashamed of, he was too adorable!

"I don't doubt it for a second, Mrs. Weasley."

"You can call me Molly," she said, walking back to the kitchen where you continued watching the way the pans moved back and forth preparing breakfast. You were not very good at cooking - in fact, you had never cooked before- however, that didn’t stop you from offering your help. So you took a pan, placed it on the stove, and decided that you would find a way to make a good mountain of strawberry-filled pancakes just like your dear nanny did. Molly observed you carefully. "I think that now that you are living with us it is appropriate to have a more cordial treatment.My son told me a lot about you”

“Just the good things, i hope”

“Kind of” You stopped mixing ingredients to look at her carefully” He told us a bunch of marvelous things about you and how you two met. Actually, what worries me the most is what he didn’t tell us”

And there was the recrimination you were waiting for. You were aware that it had to arrive sooner or later, however, you would have been grateful that it did it when Bill were by your side to give you the opportunity to defend yourself properly. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, knowing that what Molly needed to hear from your own lips was which family you came from. You continued your task with the pancakes, turning out as bad as you expected.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly," he corrected.

"Molly" you smiled slowly "But believe me when I tell you that it was me who asked William not to mention anything about my last name or where I come from. I know that in this case, with the war above our heads, it is necessary to be certain of the people who enter your family and I apologize for that, it's just ... Bill is very important to me” Molly's eyes narrowed “Since we met ... I have found a home in him and well, all that feels when someone is in love. "Mrs. Weasley shook her head, understanding the feeling." I have experienced the rejection before. When people know that Tom Riddle is my family ... they run away in fear, curse my family and even walk away from us, as if sharing a blood bond makes us as evil as he is.

“And it’s not like that?” Molly asked with a hand on her neck. She didn’t want to be like the others and judge you without knowing the full story, just as she had promised Bill the night before that she would, but it was so difficult not to remember the death of his brothers by Voldemort’s hands and to pretend nothing had happened in the past. You sighed because the eggs you cracked on the bowl got mixed with their own shell “ I've heard of the Grants before, they're all Death Eaters, including your siblings!”

“It is difficult to have to choose a side  when you don’t have your own convictions”

"And you have it?"

You looked at Molly in pain. Of course you expected those reactions from Bill's mother, she was within her right to be upset that her oldest son never told her that he was in a relationship with a girl who seemed to have the most fucking powerful and evil wizard in the world as a great-uncle. No, Molly wasn't mad, she was deadly angry, she felt like she was bursting!

Her hands became fists and without knowing how, you found yourself between the wall and Molly's big arms from one second to the other. The pancake batter was forgotten, as was the woman's promise to treat her son's girlfriend in a good way.

"How is it possible ..." Molly questioned in an agitated voice, pressing your arms against the wall, "... that a single deer leaves the nature of its own herd?" How can you ensure that one rotten apple even in a gold container doesn’t rot the others?”Your breath caught at the questions of the woman in front of you. Once again, you were aware that your presence wouldn’t be good news to them, but at least you hoped they understood your motives before judging you “Explain to me, (Y/ N) Grant, when have you seen a pig away from his equals?”

Your words caught in your throat at Molly's fierce question. Bill had talked a lot about the temper of his mother. Even if she could be really grumpy at times, she was in general a very sweet, pleasant and maternal woman with everyone; however, you didn’t fit into that generality because it seemed that the woman was determined to kill you with her own hands.

"If my presence bothers you so much, then you shouldn't have let Bill and I to stay here."

“He's my son! All I want for him is to be happy, and that's why I don't understand what he managed to see in you”

"Maybe the same thing you saw in your husband." Molly's lips twitched in anger, but you didn't stop. You hoped that she would at least understand what your words meant, because that would make it easier for both of you to try at least get along better, even if Molly seemed not to want to do it under any circumstances. How is it that this haughty little girl dared to compare herself with her dear and wonderful husband? "I'm sorry, but I don't think this conversation is going to take us anywhere."

"If someone betrays his own family ..." Molly stopped you before you walked out the front door. The others got down the stairs, seeing the scandal formed in the kitchen “The rest of us can't expect too much, can we?

Your eyes blured.

[rax-writes]

Family Man

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x OC  [basically a reader insert, because the OC’s physical description isn’t addressed or anything, she just has a name] Warnings:  None Notes:  A Sokovian woman named Irina Molnár was born with the ability to teleport, and in time, she encounters the only man to gain her trust enough to show him. It just so happens that the man in question is the criminal mastermind Helmut Zemo. // So, as I said, it’s an OC but still basically a reader insert; don’t let the OC part deter you if you prefer x reader fics. It just worked better for me on the writing end to use a name, and I have an aversion to using “Y/N,” so I just threw in a pretty name. // TL;DR: Zemo as a dad just kills me & I wanted him to get a second chance at a family.

“I will assist you to the utmost of my ability, on one condition.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Zemo.”

“This is both for my own benefit, and yours, I assure you.”

If someone had asked Irina ten years ago where she thought she’d be at this point in life, her answer would have been incredibly far from accurate, for nothing could have predicted the path her life took.

Not that her life had been normal to begin with, being that she was born with the ability to teleport. Sokovia was not exactly a progressive country in the late 1980’s, so her parents had endlessly instructed her to conceal her ability, warning her of the countless dangers of her power being known to others. Her parents were so protective of her that when she teleported as a reflex at age thirteen, after walking along the sidewalk of main street in Novi Grad and a driver fell asleep at the wheel and headed straight for her, they packed up and moved to Russia in the middle of the night. Yet again, the same thing happened at age eighteen, when she was caught up in a hostage situation in a bank and the perpetrator caught her calling the police. Just as he aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger, she disappeared. Irina and her parents fled to Germany in the dead of night less than twenty-four hours later, and she knew then that she needed to suppress her powers no matter what, being that her father was elderly, and her mother was too ill for them to ever travel again.

So, Irina settled into a normal life in Munich. She worked various odd jobs over the years to support her parents, made and lost a few friends, dated here and there. Her father passed when she was twenty-two, and two years later, her mother joined him. When living in the house where both her parents passed in their sleep became too unbearable, she packed up and moved to Berlin, getting a job at a high-security prison there. Less than a year after she began working there, a newcomer arrived: an inmate by the name of Helmut Zemo.

Being that he knew so much about HYDRA, from his extensive research on them, the American organization SHIELD wished to know more about them. A few psychiatrists and some professional interrogators tried for the first couple months, but they got nothing – quite literally, as he refused to utter a single word to any of them. Irina’s boss knew that she was Sokovian just like Zemo, so she was asked to extract any and all valuable information she could from the new prisoner.

Zemo was an intimidating man; calm, cool, and collected at all times, with eyes like a hawk that bore into Irina’s very soul each time he looked at her. She spent two months talking with him every other day, trying anything and everything she could to get him to talk, but he remained silent. At first, she tried asking him questions outright, but he wouldn’t ever say a word – just stare at her with those cold, calculating eyes. So, Irina changed her approach; they would chat idly in Sokovian to build rapport via their shared mother tongue, or she would ramble about her day, what book she was currently reading, her favorite movies, dates she went on. Those topics got him talking, chatting with her about the miscellaneous subjects she brought up, and both she and her supervisors took it as a good sign. She found that they shared similarities in terms of the loss of their families, and how the destruction of Sokovia hurt them both. Despite how frequently they spoke, he still never revealed anything of importance. After two months, her boss had a few interrogation experts give her some training, so she tried their tactics for another month, but she still got nowhere with him.

Three months after Irina began trying to get intel from Zemo, she sat down in the chair outside his cell, and huffed out a sigh.

“I’m afraid this will be my last visit, Zemo.”

“Why?” His voice held surprise, and a tinge of sadness.

“As you know, they assigned me to visit you for the sake of getting information from you. I’ve been consistently empty-handed over the past four months, so they’re giving up, assigning me back to regular patrol duty.”

“Will I still see you?”

“No. They’re moving me to the women’s side of the prison next week.”

Zemo simply stared at the ground in silence, hands clasped in his lap. Irina allowed the silence to linger for several minutes, then pulled something from her bag, unlocked the small opening on the side of his cell where guards gave him meals, slid the item through, and locked it shut again. He eyed it for a moment before standing and retrieving it, sitting back down on the bed as he looked at it.

“It’s that book I told you about last month, the one you said sounded interesting. Consider it a parting gift.”

He still said nothing, gaze locked on the book cover. Irina cleared her throat and stood, putting her bag on her shoulder as she looked to Zemo one last time.

“It has been nice getting to know you, Zemo. Take care of yourself.”

As Irina pulled open the door to leave, Zemo’s voice called out, “Wait!” She turned to face him and found that he was standing, clenching and unclenching his jaw as if he were thinking, before stating, “Tell your superiors that I will give them one piece of information on HYDRA every two months if you will have lunch with me twice each week.”

Irina’s brows raised in surprise, but she nodded in understanding. “I’ll pass the message along, Zemo.”

“Please… call me Helmut.”

The higher-ups were more than happy to agree to his terms, as long as Irina was okay with them as well, since it involved her. But she wasn't stupid. She told them that it felt like quite an undertaking to agree to such a thing, she had been considering looking for another job in the near future, etcetera. Naturally, they offered to double her pay to persuade her to commit to the arrangement, and it was then that she agreed. In truth, it was no skin off Irina’s nose to do it in the first place. As deranged as it was, Zemo had become her friend, her only friend, and she quite enjoyed talking with him. And even more deranged – bordering psychotic, really – she had developed a bit of a crush on him, finding him to be dangerously handsome and intelligent, so she certainly had no quarrels with agreeing to spend time with him.

Time seemed to fly when Irina began her twice weekly visits to Zemo. She found herself eagerly awaiting their lunches, and she always stayed longer than necessary. She would have rather eaten glass than admit it, but she frequently put a bit more effort into her hair and makeup on the days she would be seeing him.

God, I’m fucking pathetic, Irina thought to herself at least once a week, and yet it never stopped her.

It was another few months later when he said something that made her stomach drop to the pits of hell, and a cold sweat to break out on her skin.

“I know who you are, you know. I have since you first introduced yourself. Irina Molnár, the disappearing girl – at least, that’s what the headlines called you. I remember reading about it when I was a teenager, but the story was forgotten within a week.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irina replied, but Zemo could hear the quiver in her voice.

“My apologies, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I have no intention of mentioning it to anyone besides you. I have simply been wondering… were the rumors true? Can you really just disappear into thin air?”

When Irina hesitated, he added, “Irina, no one would believe me if I told them, and even if they did, they would have no way to prove it. Besides, we have been acquainted for nearly a year now. You are my only solace in this living hell. I would have gone mad had you not came into my life. I would never do anything to risk you harm.”

She exhaled slowly, and looked at the ground when she said, “It’s not ‘disappearing.’ It’s teleporting.”

Zemo leaned forward in his seat, visibly invested in her confession.

“I’ve been able to do it since I was four. Scared my parents half to death when I suddenly appeared before their eyes, having been across the house mere seconds before. I learned to control it pretty quickly, but that day in Sokovia… I was only ten years old, and a car was coming right at me, full speed, so I panicked. I teleported home right before it crushed me, and it would have been a non-issue if my classmate hadn’t been a few feet away and saw the whole thing. He ran his mouth to the press about my identity, so we had to leave.”

“That was why you moved to Russia, not because your father got a job there,” Zemo realized, remembering when you initially told him about your move and falsified the reasoning.

“Yes. It happened again there, when someone shot at me. No one who was around at the time knew my name, so it never made it to the press, but my parents were overly cautious, so we fled to Germany. I’ve not done it since, besides in the comfort of my own home.”

“Show me.”

“You say stupid things for such a brilliant man, Helmut,” Irina said, nodding toward the camera in the corner of the room.

“After you get home tonight, teleport into my cell.”

“Did you miss what I said about the camera, or…?”

“The camera does not have a view of my bed. It only reaches the middle of my cell, not the very back of it where the bed is,” Zemo pointed out, and Irina realized that he was right. She had been in the camera room several times; the camera there did indeed only show the room and half of his cell, never the bed.

“I’ll think about it.”

Zemo smiled brightly, looking excited, like a little kid about to see a magic trick. That alone was enough to motivate Irina to do it, just for the opportunity to see that smile again. So, when she got home that night, she changed into a flowy, deep green sundress, touched up her makeup and hair, strapped on a nice pair of sandals, and then stood in her living room, hyping herself up to take such a risk.

There was a chance that she would get caught. Teleporting in front of anyone was always a risk, no matter what, her parents had always told her. But then that damned, dashing smile crossed Irina's mind, and before she had time to second-guess herself, she was standing at the foot of Zemo’s bed.

The book he’d been reading flew out of his hands as he practically jumped out of his skin, falling to the ground with a loud whack, and he pressed a palm to his chest as he tried to calm his erratic breathing.

“We really should have scheduled a specific time for your arrival,” he muttered, and Irina laughed softly. Thankfully, the cameras had no sound, but if a guard were passing by outside, they may have heard her. When he caught his breath a moment later, Zemo sat up in the bed, letting his legs hang off the edge as he patted the spot beside him. Irina took a seat, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands.

“So, you were telling the truth. You can actually teleport,” Zemo observed, eyeing her with amusement and interest before he bombarded her with questions. “Can you teleport anywhere in the world? Are there parameters for your distance or location? How long does it take you to travel from one place to another? What does it feel like?”

“I can teleport anywhere I’ve been to or seen photographs of. I cannot do it blindly. The distance nor location does not matter, as long as I have seen my destination before. And it feels like… a slight tingling sensation, all over my body, but it only lasts until I arrive, which takes about a half second.”

“Fascinating,” Zemo whispered. He licked his lips before asking, “Are you capable of teleporting another individual along with you?”

Irina frowned at him. “I’m not breaking you out of prison, Helmut.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“No, but you were alluding to it,” she countered, and he shrugged. “I can teleport another individual, but only over small distances. Each time I’ve tried, the most distance I’ve gotten with another person has been about ten yards.”

“Perhaps with practice, you could go further.”

“I practiced for years, and ten yards seems to be the true limit. Besides, the only others who have ever known about my ability were my parents, and since they’re gone, I have no test subjects.”

Zemo nodded solemnly, then asked, “What about teleporting repeatedly, in ten yard increments?”

“Tried that. Can only do it about three times before I’m too drained to do it again. Teleporting back-to-back with another person takes a lot of energy,” Irina answered, then added, “And again, even if I could, I am not breaking you out.”

“I am merely interested in your mutation, that is all,” Zemo retorted. Irina shot him a look that said ‘Really?’ so he relented with, “Perhaps also because I wanted to know if you could break me out, but that’s neither here nor there.”

"That's what I thought."

It was another month before either party made a move. They were sitting on Zemo’s bed, side by side, as Irina told him about her day at work, and the man who'd tried hitting on her in the grocery store earlier that evening.

"He thought he was very Rico Suave, but his execution was a nightmare."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, he followed me around for nearly ten minutes while he worked up the courage to say something. He waited until I walked past him and greeted me with 'Hey, sexy lady.'"

"Oh no," Zemo said, grinning as he looked genuinely amused at this man's poor tactics, although his amusement was contingent upon whether or not Irina was actually interested in him. The way she poked fun at the man indicated a lack of interest, therefore, he was enjoying her tale.

"Oh yes. He then asked if it hurt when I fell from heaven, which is the most overused line in the book, yet he said it with such confidence. And then – get this – he leaned onto what he thought was a shelf, but it was actually a stacked display of cans, which toppled over and sent a hundred soup cans flying down the aisle."

Zemo chuckled, prompting Irina to continue.

"He played it off by saying that my beauty is just so distracting that he didn't even realize what he was doing, and then asked for my phone number."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Absolutely not," Irina said, laughing softly and shaking her head. Zemo was momentarily entranced by the way her beautiful hair fell around her face, and the sound of her laugh.

"Why not?"

"Not my type."

"What is your ‘type’?"

Irina leaned back on the wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling as she thought carefully. "Confidence, but not cockiness. Intelligence. Wit. Sarcastic senses of humor. Men with a sense of passion to them; some kind of fire and gusto about something, whether it be their work, art, music." She looked over at Zemo then, and allowed her gaze to travel slowly up and down his form. "Currently, my type seems to be men I can't have."

Zemo eyed her carefully, allowing himself to absorb her words fully for several moments. She was describing him – he just knew it. Or, he was too blinded by hopefulness and desire to realize that she wasn’t, but he figured there was only one way to find out. So, he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

Irina hesitated for half a second, surprised by his actions, but she recovered quickly and kissed him back. It was gentle, sweet, and explorative, both parties simply enjoying it while it lasts. Neither had any idea how long it lasted, as time stood still. Zemo was the first to pull away, eyes scanning Irina’s face as he looked at her with sheer adoration, as well as a touch of nervousness.

"I understand if you wish for me to never do that again, and I understand if you'd prefer to never see me again. But please know that I did not do that out of blind lust, or anything other fleeting emotion. I did it because my heart has yearned for you every day since first meeting you, and finally having you here next to me, where I can touch you… it was genuinely unbearable to hold myself back from kissing you. I have not felt anything like this since losing my wife, and I did not think my heart was capable of ever feeling it again. But you proved me wrong. I know I am risking an end to the only true human contact I have while trapped inside this cell, which truly frightens me, but the unyielding desire to tell you that I love you overpowers that fear."

Irina stared at him in shock for a few moments, before leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. She exhaled slowly as she collected her thoughts before speaking. "Helmut… I love you, too, but I don't know how this would even work. You're never getting out of here. How can we have any kind of relationship when you're locked in a cell for the rest of your days?"

"We will make it work, my darling," Zemo said, sitting up straighter and turning to face her. "I will ensure that we mimic a true relationship as much as possible. I cannot wine and dine you as I would like to do, but I can easily bribe the guards to have lavish meals brought here for us to share on evenings such as these. I cannot take you out for birthdays or anniversaries, but I will ensure that you are showered with gifts on those days. My angel, I cannot give you a normal life, but I can promise to endlessly strive to make you happy."

Irina stared deeply into his eyes for what felt like an eternity, and she saw nothing but genuity, longing, and adoration there. She could feel the sincerity in his words, feel how desperately he wished for her to agree to his proposal. She was no fool; she knew that their relationship would be a struggle, and she knew that it would never be any resemblance of normal. But she also knew that he made her heart soar in a way no other man ever had, and that she would die feeling like she missed out on something incredible if she walked away from Zemo now.

“Okay,” Irina whispered, mostly to herself, before repeating it in a stronger, more self-assured voice. “Okay.”

For a man who always knew what to say, Zemo was at a loss for words, overcome with joy. He simply cupped her cheek and kissed her, far more passionately than before, allowing his triumphant and ecstatic feeling to flow through the kiss. Irina gripped the front of his sweatshirt in her fists, melting into him, before wrapping her arms around his neck as his free hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist.

Ages had passed by the time they broke apart, foreheads resting against each other as they fought to catch their breaths. Irina was the first to break the comfortable silence they created, laughing quietly in disbelief at the events that had just transpired. Zemo followed suit, a deep, velvety chuckle bubbling up from his chest. He pressed another kiss to her lips before leaning back and looking at her. They gazed at each other in sheer contented bliss for a few moments more, before Irina became the first to speak.

“I love you, Helmut.”

“And I love you, darling.”

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

The sound of the front door opening caused Irina to immediately look up from the book she'd been reading. She frowned, then stood and headed for the door as quickly as possible, calling out, "Nikolai! You know better than to open that door, young man!" When she reached the entryway, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There stood Helmut, wearing the softest, sweetest smile she'd ever seen as he opened his arms to her. She hesitated a moment, unsure whether or not it was real, before he murmured, "Hello, my love." His voice – that alluring raspy undertone, and the gentleness it took on as he spoke to her – broke Irina from her trance, and she ran to him and into his arms, careful of her rounded belly.

Zemo stroked her hair and held her, and her arms around his neck gripped him like a vice, to the point that it hurt a little, but he'd never tell her that. A small sob fell from Irina's lips before she even realized she'd started crying, and he whispered sweet nothings in her ear in Sokovian to soothe her, about how much he loved her and how happy he was to see her. When her crying quieted down a bit, he pulled away to kiss her, a kiss full of love and longing. When he broke the kiss a few moments later, she stroked his cheek lovingly, and he wiped the stray tears from her eyes.

"How are you here? What happened?" Irina asked, and only then did she notice the two men standing awkwardly by the doorway, their faces a mixture of suspicion and surprise. "Who are they?"

"They are the men who helped me escape. James was previously known as the Winter Soldier, and Sam is currently known as the Falcon, an Avenger."

Irina raised an eyebrow at him. "But… you… the Avengers… the Winter Soldier…."

"I know, I know. I am just as surprised as you are, but they need me for something, something very important."

"The Flag Smashers? I saw them on the news. They have Super Soldiers somehow."

"Yes, darling, exactly right. We'll find them, defeat them, and I'll be back before you know it."

Irina understood the implication of his words. He'd be back, but whether that would be in her home or in his cell was yet to be determined. But she knew him. She knew that he would not take his newfound freedom as a one-time opportunity. A storm of thoughts about what that would mean for them flashed through her mind, but Zemo’s hands on her stomach snapped her out of it.

"How is our daughter?" he asked, gently rubbing Irina’s baby bump, a bright smile blooming when the child inside kicked at his hands, as she always did. She had only been in existence for seven months, and she wasn't even born yet, but she already favored him over her mother.

"She's good, she's been moving around a lot today, as if she knew her Daddy was coming," Irina replied, earning a grin from Zemo. "The doctors told me this morning that her heartbeat is strong and she appears to be the picture of health."

"Good, good. And what about –"

"DADDY!" a tiny voice bellowed from down the hall, and they turned to see a small boy running full speed toward Zemo. Irina stepped back to allow him a clear passageway, smiling as Helmut crouched down to meet him, enveloping the boy in an embrace as he collided with his father's chest.

"Nikolai, I've missed you," Zemo stated, rubbing the boy's back as he stood, still holding his son. Irina caught the way her husband's voice wavered when he said that, and she laid a comforting hand on his back.

"I've missed you too, Daddy. Are you living with me and Mommy now?" Nikolai asked, leaning back in his father's arms to gaze at him with excitement plain on his face. Zemo gave him a smile, but Irina could see the sadness in it, knowing the future was uncertain.

"Not quite, buddy. Just here for a visit," Zemo replied, and Irina rubbed his back comfortingly before pressing a kiss to their son's temple.

Their family time was interrupted by Sam clearing his throat loudly, and when Zemo turned to face him, his smile faded.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Zemo, you've got some explaining to do, and not much time to do it. Don't forget we're on borrowed time here."

"Right," Zemo confirmed, then exhaled slowly. "James, Sam, this is my wife Irina and our son Nikolai…. He is five, and Irina is seven months along."

Confusion washed over both men's faces, and they exchanged a glance before the other, James, was the first to speak.

"But… you've been in prison for eight years. Have you been escaping every few years and no one's noticed?"

"I have not left my cell in eight years, consecutively. But my wife is capable of getting into my cell as often as we wish."

"So, what? You've just been having conjugal visits all the damn time? And the prison staff green-lit that?" Sam asked.

"No, not exactly," Zemo answered, then glanced at Irina. They shared a look before she explained further.

"I can teleport. I met Helmut when I was tasked with extrapolating information about HYDRA from him, and he refused to share anything unless the prison staff agreed to let him meet with me twice a week, just to chat, in which case he'd give them tidbits of information bi-monthly. They agreed, and before long, I revealed my ability to him. I'd visit him in his cell occasionally, because the cameras only show half of it. Over time, well… we fell in love. Nikolai came a few years later, and now…" Irina trailed off, then rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly.

"Why didn't you ever bust him out?" James asked.

"I can only teleport small distances with another person, and I can only do it twice at the most, so we'd have never made it off the grounds."

James and Sam were silent for a moment, absorbing the information they'd been given. Sam was the first to break the silence.

"Zemo, you said this little pitstop would benefit me and Bucky. But it's not like she can go with us," he said, sounding a bit irritated as he gestured towards Irina’s stomach. "So what the hell was the point?"

"It does benefit you. You now possess the knowledge that a teleporter exists. Congratulations," Zemo said dryly, then looked at his wife and son for a moment, before returning his attention to the men. "Sam, the point was that I lost my family when Sokovia was destroyed, and the family I have now has only ever seen me inside a prison cell. I wanted my son to have at least one memory of his father in his home with him."

James – no, Bucky, apparently – and Sam exchanged a look, before Bucky sighed and looked to Zemo.

"You have one hour. Sam and I will be guarding the exits, so don't try to escape. If you do…." He trailed off after glancing at Nikolai. "Let's just say it won't be pretty."

True to their word, Sam and Bucky remained stationed outside the home, one out front and one out back. Zemo milked that hour as much as possible, spending most of it in his son’s room with him and Irina, listening intently to Nikolai tell him all about what’s been going on at school, his favorite shows, the trip he took to the zoo the day before with Irina, etc.. He even told Zemo about each and every one of his toys, simply enjoying talking to his dad, and although Zemo was the one to send almost every one to him, therefore he already knew about them, he didn’t mention that. He simply listened intently as his son spoke, enjoying the quality time with him, exchanging smiles and occasional kisses with Irina. She showed him the nursery she’d been working on for their daughter, and he finished putting together the crib she’d started, Nikolai happily handing him parts and screws as needed. Zemo also moved the dresser and changing table to where she’d wanted them but couldn’t move them herself, then they settled into the living room shortly before the hour was up.

Sam and Bucky reentered the house to find the family sitting around the coffee table, playing a game of Jenga. They stood silently in the doorway to the living room, watching as Nikolai carefully drew a block from the tower before placing it back on the top with a triumphant look on his little face. Zemo commended his concentration, then drew a block himself, although he intentionally wiggled it a little so that the tower came toppling down.

“I won! Daddy, I won!”

“Yes, you did, my son. Excellent job,” Zemo said warmly, then glanced at Sam and Bucky before scooping the boy up into a tight hug. “Daddy has to go now, but I will see you again soon.”

“Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so. But I need you to promise me something before I leave. Take care of your mom for me, will you?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good boy,” Zemo said with a smile, then kissed Nikolai’s forehead and set him down. Zemo stood and helped Irina stand up, hugging her tightly as he buried his face into her neck. Quietly, so that no one but her could hear, he said, “I will not be going back to prison unless there is no other way, but know that yours and our children’s safety is my utmost concern.”

“I know, Helmut,” Irina whispered back, and he pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, my angel,” Zemo murmured against her lips, then stooped down to hug his son again. “And I love you, Nikolai.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” the boy responded, and the way his voice quivered as he choked back tears broke his parents’ hearts into a million pieces. Reluctantly, Zemo let him go and he wrapped his arms around his mother’s leg, resting his head against her as he sniffled and she rubbed his back.

“Be safe, sweetheart,” Irina commanded.

Zemo nodded to her before walking over to join Sam and Bucky. With one last heartbroken look at his family, he left, closing the door behind him as he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t meet the other men’s eyes as he walked over to the car, and after they all piled in, they drove in silence to the airport, off to their next stop in Madripoor.

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

@henrysmorgan​ @clints-lucky-arrow​ @therenlover​

[dragynkeep]

You know something i find i dunno if weird is the right word maybe odd is that yang's arc with her mom started with an emotional talk with blake about not letting a goal take over her entire life and that arc was continued with weiss.

Now narratively speaking weiss was the better choice especially how weiss always had yang's back and we find out weiss has similar problems with her own mom. But still it's kinda strange that such an emotional and impactful moment neded up having nothing to do with blake and all the obvious parallels and red flags she shared with raven are completely ignored by the show. It could've been cool if blake didn't run and stayed to help yang recover, they reunite with weiss and blake sees raven as a hard warning of what she could turn into.

Instead of shoehorning yang into the whole adam debacle blake should've been paired up in the raven story so yang had two strong supports to mirror qrow and tai.

Weiss absolutely would’ve been a better choice for Yang to talk about her issues with Raven because she understands better than anyone else what it’s like to go through what Yang has gone through. 

This isn’t even a shipping moment anymore. Blake doesn’t know what it’s like to be abandoned, she doesn’t know what it’s like for someone who’s supposed to take care of you to just check out and never tell you why, or to stick around and just be a constant reminder of what they’re supposed to be, but aren’t anymore. It’s just a fact that Blake grew up with two loving parents who are in a healthy and loving marriage. Her abuse by Adam is not the same as Yang or Weiss’ abuse by their mothers. 

But Weiss does. Willow might still be in Weiss’ life, but she has all but physically checked out of it ever since Weiss was ten years old, to the point that Winter had to take over the duties for her mother to her younger siblings. Weiss knows loneliness from being abandoned, added onto questions that Willow likely would never have answered, and even though she had Winter and Whitley, Winter would eventually leave and her relationship with Whitley wasn’t that great.

Just like how Summer eventually had to leave Yang, and Ruby was too young to be someone for Yang to lean on. Taiyang was struggling as a single father who was grieving for two losses, while Jacques is an abusive father who Weiss could never find emotional comfort from. These two share so much together about their family life, and they never get to share it.

The whole talk about Weiss’ mother in V5 wasn’t even meant to happen. Yang wasn’t upset because of her mother or Summer or Taiyang, she was upset because Blake ran away and didn’t even say goodbye. The issue they had to talk about was Blake, not their parents, and after that they never get to have a moment like that again.

Which leads me to the Burning the Candle scene. Yang wasn’t even telling Blake about Raven or Summer because she was trying to relate to Blake over lost loved ones, because Blake hasn’t lost any loved ones. Her parents were alive, and they happily accepted their daughter back. Yang was using her own issues to show Blake that fixating on a goal without stopping to think about it could not only hurt you, but the people you care about.

Yang almost got herself and Ruby killed, which not only would’ve been terrible, but would’ve destroyed Taiyang and Qrow, the two people who were their only family left and had already lost people before. Blake was destroying herself in trying to figure out what the White Fang was doing with Torchwick, which was hurting her friends because they care about her and don’t like seeing their friend suffering like that. 

They didn’t relate to the same issue. Blake wasn’t relating to Yang on her dead mom or the woman who abandoned her, she didn’t even open up to Yang about her past at all. Nothing about her parents, her life in Menagerie, nothing. Even what she said about Adam was very minor and didn’t really tell us or Yang anything. 

This is compared to Yang being honest to Blake about everything, including her own mistakes. She admitted that she almost got her baby sister killed, and that she regretted it to this day. That she wouldn’t make that same mistake again. Blake doesn’t give that same courtesy to Yang.

But Weiss does.

Yang opens up even more about her issues to Weiss in V5. Rather than idealising Summer, she lets Weiss know just how much her leaving and following death affected Yang, how when combined with Raven abandoning her, Taiyang struggling, and Ruby being too young to help Yang, it’s left her with serious issues regarding loneliness. Something she assumed Weiss didn’t know anything about because she had a family still.

Only for Weiss to prove that Yang made an assumption that was wrong. Weiss’ own mother checked out of her life, her father was never around, Winter left for the Academy and Whitley didn’t even like her. Weiss might not know what Yang’s exact problems are like, but she can relate to them far more than anyone else can, and far more than Yang gives her credit for.

So yeah, annoyed we never got anything more for that. 

[babymetaldoll]

Danger Days - Chapter thirteen: "Screaming infidelities"

Word count: 15,4K

Summary: It's Gubler's birthday and like the title says, someone will fuck it up.

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, angst, hurt, pain, alcohol, mention of oral sex.

A/N: Kids, I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this, but... it's done. Please don't hate me.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |

---

::: Paris, March 1st, 2011 :::

Joey stared at the ceiling of her room and sighed. She was alone. It was already midnight. She was happy she finally had a room on her own, after weeks traveling on a bus with the band. They were in Paris, and she was weary. But still, she couldn’t sleep. She stared at her phone and sighed. Matthew had said “I’ll call you back” an hour ago, and still, he hadn’t called her back. That was killing her.

She hadn’t seen her fiancé in over a month, and they were both in different time zones, which made it pretty hard to talk. She was nine hours ahead. At the moment, she was fighting to stay awake to talk to him, but he wasn’t calling her. Would it be wrong if she insisted? Matthew was working… maybe Joey should just sleep. She was weary after all, too much traveling, too many shows. That tour was fucking eternal, and she just wanted to go home.

The young woman walked to her bag, grabbed one of Matthew’s shirts, and put it on a pillow. Yes, she dressed a pillow in her boyfriend’s clothes. That’s how much she missed him. She could deal with loneliness ‘cos she was used to being alone. Still, somehow, she couldn’t deal with the loneliness that meant being far from Matthew.

- "It’s a good thing I decided to marry him then"- she said to herself as she stared at the ring on her finger.

A big part of her wanted to time travel and tell four-year-old Joey everything would be ok, that she was going to be happy after all. That she was going to manage to trust not one but two people. Her soon-to-be husband and her best friend, Mikey Way. If there was something she could cherish from being on tour with My Chem for months now, it was calling Michael James her brother.

Joey wrapped her arms around “Mattpillow” and smelled his perfume on it. Maybe it was better to text him and tell him she was gonna call earlier; it was… three in Los Angeles. If she set the alarm at six in the morning, she could catch him around nine. Yeah, that was much better.

- “Call you later. I’ll sleep a little, love you! Take care!”- she texted him.

::: Barcelona, March 5th, 2011 :::

Mikey, Ray, and Joey walked outside the arena, searching for the best sangria they could find before the show. Joey’s mom had sent them on that quest, repeating over and over again there was no way they left Spain without having tasted it. And considering it was alcohol, they didn’t argue a lot with Mrs. Sigmundsson.

- "Dude, I’m so fucking tired"- Mikey whined as he finished his hundredth cup of coffee of the day.

- "I know, I need a break from touring"- Joey said and yawned- "I wanna go home."

- "Me too"- Ray added and looked at his phone- "I miss my wife."

- "Oh, shut up!"- Mikey argued right away- "I don’t wanna go over this conversation again, you have someone you love, and you miss them. I don’t miss home, I have no one, end of the story"- Joey and Ray looked at each other and raised an eyebrow.

- "Is your underwear too tight today, or are you just being a little bitch because you want to?"- Joey asked right away, Ray chuckled, but Mikey didn’t think it was funny.

- "Shut up, Bug."

- "Not in the mood to be nice, then."

- "Nop"- that last “p” sounded like the end of it. But that wasn’t going to stop Joey.

- "Sorry, we are…"- what stopped Joey was her cellphone. Her eyes shone like diamonds when she saw Matthew’s face at the other side of the screen, waking up.

- "Yami! Good morning!"

- "Akumu!!!"- Ray and Mikey looked at her and walked a little faster to give her some privacy.

- "Is she still sleeping with the “Mattpillow”?"- Toro asked- "That shit is creepy"- and Way laughed, finally, he had been pretty serious that day. And the day before.

- "Yeah, that’s a thing. I’ve taken pictures I wanna use to blackmail her in case I ever need it."

- "Good plan"- Ray looked around. Joey was standing half a block behind, still on the phone- "Mikey, are you ok?"

- "Yeah, why?"

- "‘Cos you don’t seem to be ok at all,"- Toro felt it was his duty as a friend to tell what had been in his mind for the last couple of weeks- "Dude I’m sorry, I just… don’t think you… it’s shitty you are getting a divorce. I just don’t think you are taking it well."

- "Can you take a divorce well?"- Mikey simply replied, and that was enough to shut Ray up.

- "I’m just trying to tell you I’m here if you want to talk, and you don’t have to get so drunk every time we are out or whatever."

- "Is this an intervention? ‘Cos we had many those for Gerard back in the days. I can recognize an intervention."

- "No, Mikey! It’s not. Everybody should be here reading letters if it was"- Ray had a point- "I’m just trying to tell you, I’m here for you, man. And we can talk about anything."

- "I know, Ray… I just… don’t feel..."

- "You don’t feel like talking, I know, you haven’t talked about it, ever I guess… and I don’t feel that’s working for you. I’m scared and worried, and I’m your friend, I had to tell you."

Way and Toro stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Mikey knew Ray was right; he had shut down from all his friends, basically for the last three months or so. Still, he didn’t feel ready to share any kind of thought or feeling with any of them.

- "Ok kids, around the block, there’s a place called “Las tapas de Pepe.” Apparently, they have a killer sangria"- Joey clapped and walked past them on her way to the bar.

- "Wait, how do you know that?"

- "Because, Raúl me enseñó muchas cosas nuevas, (Raul taught me a lot of new things)"- the two musicians looked at her frowning not getting a word, so the girl turned to them and smiled- "That guy over there, his name is Raúl. I asked for sangria, he gave me an address. Come on!"

Joey turned around again, avoiding looking sad in front of her friends. The truth was, she wasn’t doing that well about being far from Matthew. It was getting too hard. She was thinking about quitting. And every time she talked to him, she was feeling more sure about that decision. She never told him, though. She didn’t want to make him feel responsible in case she made a mistake leaving the job. She also didn’t want him to know how much influence he had on her, Joey didn’t want to lose power in his life, she didn’t want to stop being independent, but it was hard.

::: Germany, March 8th, 2011 :::

Mikey was sugar rushed, jumping around the bunks as the bus traveled from Zurich to Munich. He and Joey had bought most of the chocolates in Switzerland and ate half of them in less than two hours. They were in heaven. Sugar heaven.

- "Can you please stop it?"- Gerard yelled at them from his bunk.

- "Nope"- his younger brother answered and jumped like a kid on top of him.

- "Leave me alone! I wanna sleep!"

- "Fine. Come on, Bug, let’s get away from this loser"- his words were so childish Joey burst out laughing.

- "Get in, loser, we are going shopping"- Joey said and flipped her hair. Gerard stared at her walking away with his brother, and groaned as he covered his head with the pillow.

He was fucked.

The last month had been torture for him. Joey was now not even talking to him. Never. It felt she honestly hated him, and he knew he couldn’t ask. Lynz kept asking for her, and he was sure she suspected something was going on.

- "So, have you and the guys have fun these days?"- she had asked earlier that day when he called her before the show.

- "Fun like going out fun? No, we are too tired to move. These weeks have been killers."

- "So you are all just at the bus locked the whole time?"

- "Pretty much"

- "On each other’s faces?"

- "Yeah… I wanna kill Mikey."

- "And how’s Joey doing?"

- "Good… we haven’t talked much."

- "She hadn’t talked to you or you hadn’t?"- the singer made a pause thinking about that question, and most of all thinking what would be an intelligent answer to that.

- "We don’t share a lot"- that all he had- "I guess we don’t talk to each other"- he made a pause and lit a cigarette, walking on his own through the backstage- "Why do you ask?"

- "I don’t know, I guess you never talk about her, and I thought it might be because you have…"- Lynz made a pause to make her husband even more nervous- "A problem with her or something."

- "No, we don’t have a problem, we aren’t friends, that’s all…"

Now on the bus, Gerard closed his eyes, still hiding under the pillow, Joey’s laughter all around him, while Frank and Ray played video games. What was he going to do?

::: At the bus, close to Munich. March 9th, 2011 :::

It was Matthew’s birthday, and Joey was miserable ‘cos she couldn’t spend the day with him. But still, she set her alarm at eight am and locked herself in the back of the bus, texting him. She wanted to be the first one to sing happy birthday to him. And so she waited, looking at the clock.

She went through old pictures to kill time, watched part of a movie Mikey had left on the DVD the night before. Matthew didn’t reply to her text. And so she waited longer. Joey wanted to call him at midnight. She was nine hours ahead. Minute by minute, she waited. Until it was time. She smiled and dialed. Nothing. Again. Nothing.

- "Where the fuck are you?"- her stomach was made a knot as her brows furrowed. Third call. Matthew finally picked up the FaceTime call.

- "Yami!!!"- he yelled, wasted- "It’s a party!"- he pointed around and moved the camera of his phone like a maniac, making Joey dizzy right away. No wonder why he wasn’t picking up.

- "Happy birthday, Akumu!"

- "Hey! Hey!"- he tried to walk through a lot of people as Joey frowned, wondering where the hell her fiancée was.

- "Wild party!"- she said as soon as she noticed Gubler had locked himself in a bathroom to talk.

- "Yeah! The guys set a little surprise party for me"- he slurred and smiled- "I love you."

- "I love you too."

- "No, I love you more. Why aren’t you here?"

- "‘Cos I’m working, but I’ll be home in two weeks, so wait for me."

- "I want you here now."

- "I wish I was there."

- "Then quit"- Joey sighed. Arguing was useless; Matthew was drunk.

- "Hey! Akumu, is Paget there? Is she gonna drive you home?"

- "No, she’s not here."

- "You are not partying with your friends?"

- "Yeah, with the guys from the movie"- Joey raised an eyebrow, thinking she had no idea where Matthew was or with who.

- "Are you sure you are ok?"

- "Yeah, baby! It’s my birthday, we are gonna party like it’s my birthday!"- Joey’s heart ached at the thought of what could go wrong. But she loved and trusted her boyfriend, and she knew he would never hurt her.

- "Hey Matthew"- she said and looked straight into his eyes through the camera- "I love you."

- "I love you too."

- "I’ve got your heart here with me all the time"- she showed him her necklace, and he nodded- "There’s gonna be a present from me waiting for you when you get home."

- "Nice!"- Joey smiled, thinking it was probably Matthew wasn’t going to remember that conversation- "Listen, Yami, someone is trying to get into the bathroom."

- "That’s ok, I’ll call you later, ok dorky?"- he nodded and waved, the girl kissed the screen, but he had already hung down.

Joey hated being in Germany at the moment.

Could Gubler be an asshole and cheat? No way, Joey trusted him with her eyes wide shut. But he was hot and drunk, and she was sure there were more than just a couple of girls trying to get into his pants. If the guys were there- his friends- she wouldn’t even worry about it. But they weren’t. He was with some random people from the set she hadn’t even met.

Soon the regret of their last fight came to mind. They weren’t mad at each other, but perhaps… no, there’s no way he would be an asshole because of that stupid fight. It was a silly fight for her. Was it serious for him?

A few nights before, Matthew had gotten mad at a conversation with Joey ‘cos she didn’t want to change her last name. That’s what he picked from the conversation. She just said she didn’t think it was necessary to do so. He didn’t take it that well.

- "What’s the problem with changing your name?"

- "I’m just saying the tradition of women changing their last names after they marry it’s a bit old fashion. It makes me think women are still treated like an object that “belongs” to a man."

- "So you won’t change your last name?"- the girl frowned, staring at Matthew’s wide-opened eyes on the screen.

- "That’s not… do you want me to change it?"

- "Yes! of course, I do! you are gonna be my wife!"

- "So? If I’m still Joey Sveinbjörndottir after we marry, I won’t be your wife?"

- "That’s not what I meant"- Gubler was more frustrated than he had felt in months over any conversation they had ever had. This time, it was serious.

- "Then what is it?"

- "I’m just saying you should change your last name ‘cos we will be married, and I’d love for you to be Mrs. Gubler."

- "I will be your wife, isn’t that enough?"

- "Why do you always have to be so fucking independent?"- Matthew just yelled- "Can you just try to understand I want you to be mine? My wife! And I want everybody to know it!"

- "So you wanna put me on display?"

- "No!! Fuck no!!"- Matthew was tired and defeated. It seemed that stupid argument was more about a bunch of little things that had grown inside his head instead of just about the last name.

- "Why can’t I be independent? Is that a bad thing?"

- "No! It’s a good thing! I just... "- Matthew bit his tongue and sighed, trying to rearrange the thoughts in his head. He needed to make sure whatever he was going to say would explain his feelings clearly.

- "You just?"- Joey asked, standing in the middle of the hotel room she was staying at that night. She just stared at the wall, thinking she had no idea what had gotten into her boyfriend’s head.

- "I just don’t feel you need me sometimes."

- "What? Are you crazy?"

- "No, that’s what I feel. Are you gonna blame me for feeling?"

- "Well, you are being silly!"

Joey was real angry at him at the moment. Everything he had said hurt her. It seemed he had insulted all the kindness and love she had given him when it was very hard for her to show her feelings and let someone into her heart.

- "What is it that you want from me, Matthew? Do you want me to be needy and clingy? ‘Cos you know that’s not who I am!"

- "I know that! I just sometimes… it feels like you’d be great without me."

- "What?"

- "Like you don’t…"- but the girl didn’t let him continue.

- "Don’t say you feel I don’t love you!"

- "I know you love me."

- "Then?"

- "You don’t depend on me the way I depend on you"- the drummer was in shock at those words. Did he depend on her?- "You leave me here, you tour the world, you are happy, I’m here, I miss you. Every time we talk, you are shining… meanwhile, I am here, dying, waiting to be with you!"

- "First of all, you could come!"

- "I’m working too!"- but Joey cut him off and continued.

- "Second, who says I don’t miss you? Just because I’m not crying when we talk doesn’t mean I am not miserable! Matthew! What the fuck are you saying? I fucking love you with my whole life! I hate being here when I could be there with you at this very same minute doing anything together, even when that anything is staring at the wall! But I have to work, and I happen to love my job, the same way you love yours! You can’t blame me for not quitting!"

Joey bit her lips as she stared at Matthew at the other side of the screen. She was making her best not to cry. She had never been so mad at her fiancé before.

- "I just…"- he tried to continue, but his voice broke- "I feel like I’m going insane here without you"- tears fell from his eyes as Joey wiped off hers from her cheeks.

- "Matthew, I miss you too! Fuck! I’m going crazy, just like you! I want to be there. I wanna kiss you! I wanna make love to you! But… you can’t ask me to be someone I’m not! Can’t you just be happy your girlfriend loves you, misses you, and will marry you as soon as she finishes touring?"

Gubler sighed and stared at her.

- "I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Matthew Gray Gubler. I don’t care about the last name. I don’t care about anything as long as you are beside me."

The young man sighed and cut her a short smile.

- "How do you always end up making me feel like a dork for getting mad at you?"

- "‘Cos I’m gonna be your wife, that’s my job"- she chuckled, and they stared in silence for a few seconds.

- "I love you so much, Joey."

- "I love you more, Matthew Gray."

That had been days before. Was Matthew still upset at her because of that? No way. He didn’t sound mad at all. He was just drunk and happy to celebrate his birthday.

- "You are overthinking this ‘cos you are far from him"- the girl reassured herself out loud and looked at the screen again- “Love you dorky”- she typed and sent her boyfriend a message. That was something he couldn’t forget.

The girl stayed still looking at the TV in front of her for a few seconds, but the knot in her stomach was too tight, and the thoughts in her head were too scary. She felt sick, scared, anxious.

Joey was jealous, shit!

She ended up puking in the bus’s tiny bathroom, just like every time she felt seriously distressed.

- "Hey, are you ok?"- Gerard found her on the bathroom floor, flushing, pale, and a little weak.

- "Yeah…"

- "Are you sick?"

- "No, I just… I’m ok."

- "Sure?"

- "Yeah, I just need an herbal tea. I felt dizzy all of a sudden"- she held the hand he offered her and stood up.

- "I’ll put on the kettle"- Joey stumbled a little as she walked with Gerard to the front of the bus.

- "Hey Bug"- she heard Mikey’s voice as he opened the curtain of his bunk. She slowly moved over and sat next to him- "Did you talk to Matthew?"

- "Yeah, he was wasted"- and Mikey chuckled.

- "That’s my boy."

- "I didn’t like it."

- "Come on, he is a good kid. He will probably drink his liver away and then go to bed, have a killer hangover, and talk to you until either of you falls asleep like he always does."

Mikey reassured her, and the girl chuckled, nodding. Her friend was right. She was still dizzy, though, so she carefully laid down next to him and felt his arms around her slowly.

- "Bug, you are freezing."

- "I’m ok. Gerard is making me an herbal tea… I should do it, actually; he ain’t my nanny"- the girl tried to stand up, but Mikey held her.

- "You should get into your bunk for another while. You might be getting the flu."

- "I’m ok, trust me"- she finally stood up and smiled at her friend.

- "Here, take my hoodie."

- "Thanks… it stinks."

- "But it’s warm, does the trick"- she smiled and put it on. Gerard had just left the cup of tea on the table. She walked over slowly and cut him a smile. An honest and nice smile.

- "Thank you, Gerard."

- "You can call me Gee, you know"- she nodded and sat down by the table.

Gerard sat in front of her, sipping his fresh cup of coffee. The two of them were quiet. Joey was thinking about Gubler. What was he doing at that very exact moment? Why wasn’t she there? How would it have been if they were together? They would probably be naked in his bed. And that would be great. It would be way much better than what she was doing at the moment, sitting on a bus staring at the window.

- "Are you sure you are alright?"- he whispered, and she nodded again- "Do you wanna go back to bed? I mean bunk."

- "No, I’m fine here… besides, we should be getting ready…"- she stayed quiet and looked outside- "Where are we?"

- "Munich"

- "Great… we had a hotel room here, right?"

- "Yeah"

- "Finally!!!"- she raised her arms, and he chuckled- "I need a real bed."

- "Me too."

- "And a long fucking bath"- he nodded and looked into her eyes. They were stuck in the cup of tea again.

- "We’ve got the Valencia gig in a couple of days."

- "Right! The MTV streamed no stressful at all show in Spain"- he chuckled and nodded.

- "Nervous?"

- "Not really"- she lied, the fact MTV was going to stream the show was freaking her out, but at the moment, she didn’t care that much. Her head was back in Los Angeles. Her phone hummed, and she quickly grabbed it. “I love you too,” Matthew had written, and a deep sigh came from her lips. Gerard was going to ask something, but not a word came from his lips. Instead, Jeff - their tour manager - opened the door and smiled.

- "I got you an early check-in at the hotel."

And those words were music for Joey’s ears.

That day was hell for the girl. The good thing was the band didn’t have anything to do but play the show, which meant: movies with Mikey and Frank, the best way to keep her head busy from thinking the worst.

- "I’m bored"- Frank whispered as he played with Joey’s hair, who was laid next to him.

- "We have to leave for the show in a while"- Mikey whispered, half awake, half asleep.

- "Great"- the girl murmured, eyes glued at the screen- "I’m hungry."

- "You just ate."

- "I’m bored. Boredom makes me hungry."

- "Come on, let’s get something to eat"- Frank grabbed Joey’s hand and stood up- "I need to move from this bed, or I’m gonna die of boredom."

- "Can you bring me some ice cream?"- Mikey asked from the bed as Joey and Frank put on their shoes.

- "Nope, if you want something, you gotta come with us"- the girl smiled at her friend, who didn’t move.

- "Damn it! Fine… I won’t have ice cream."

- "Good for you, see ya!"

Gerard was just done jerking off in his bed. He wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t have much to do. He had tried to make music, but shit wasn’t working. He had thought about calling his wife, but it was five in the morning in Los Angeles. He was miserable. He wanted to find a way to end his agony. But all he could think about was Joey walking around the bus in her pajamas. Joey sleeping in the back of the bus in those shorts and a tank top. Joey curled on a couch reading Edgar Allan Poe. His cock was killing him, and his hand hadn’t been enough. He wanted her so bad it hurt, and masturbation just wasn’t enough anymore.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her. That he was willing to make her happy. But he knew he couldn’t do either of those things.

- “Come live with me and my wife, ‘cos polygamy ain’t illegal or whatever.”

The singer sighed and looked at the ceiling, toilet paper all over his hand, cleaning the mess he had left.

- "You have issues, dude"- Gerard said out loud and closed his eyes. Honestly, there was nothing he could do but to love the girl from a safe distance and hope for his feelings to fade as soon as the tour was over.

Way didn’t want that tour to end because he didn’t want to be apart from Joey. In fact, Gerard was starting to feel obsessed. He hated it, but still, he didn’t know how to stop.

Frank kept laughing like a kid as he and Joey sat at the hotel’s roof deck. He was drinking a beer and smoking while she finished her second ice cream.

- "Mikey Fucking Way"- she argued, frowning- "Because of him, I can’t stop thinking about getting ice cream."

- "You are so fucking high in sugar"- Frank added and grinned.

- "I know! It’s gonna be hell when I get my sugar hangover."

- "I can kiss your temples if that helps"- he answered and winked at her. The girl smiled and raised an eyebrow.

- "Why are you such a flirt with me, Frank Anthony?"

- "I am not a flirt!"- he answered, nearly insulted, but still chuckled after a few seconds as his friend stared at him right into the eyes.

- "Come on! We’ve been friends for a long while now. You are always such a flirt with me. Are you like this with all the girls?"

- "Define like this"- he answered with a lower voice and made his best to look as hot as fuck.

- "Just what you did, you are adorable and hot and cute and all innocent. Why are you like that?"

- "Why? You don’t like it?"

- "I love it, it’s so fucking funny and cute, like you. But sometimes it makes me wonder if you are like that with all the girls…"

- "Why?"

- "’Cause I know you are just my friend, and you can be as flirty as you want; I know it’s a game. But what if you do this with someone who doesn’t get it as I do… then what?"- Frank stayed quiet, looking at his friend. Then took a long drag from his cigarette.

- "What if I’m just a flirt with you?"

- "I surely doubt it"- Joey quickly answered, laughing- "I’ve seen you flirt with basically 99% of the girls we’ve met this tour. You just don’t notice it."

- "I haven’t!"

- "You do, Frank, that’s why I know you are harmless"- that frustrated the guitarist, though he knew he wasn’t going to get any with her anyway. She was his friend; he loved his wife. He just thought Joey was hot.

- "Tell you what, I like flirting with you ‘cos you are cute, and you don’t get nervous"- Iero simply confessed.

- "Of course, I don’t! You are my friend, and this is like…"

- "The nature of our friendship?"

- "You just read my mind, Jersey"- the two of them stayed quiet and smiled.

- "I would hit on you if I wasn’t married, though"- Joey burst out laughing at those words, but Frank just smiled- "I mean it."

- "I know."

- "If I wasn’t… and I did… do you think I’d stand a chance?"- the girl blushed and finished her ice cream.

- "I’d say you would if Gub wasn’t in the picture, of course. We could have gone out on a couple of dates, have fun."

- "And fuck like bunnies"- Frank added, and Joey hit his arm.

- "Dude, you are my friend. Friends don’t fuck."

- "What? So friends make love? besides, we are talking about an alternative universe that will never happen!"

- "Shut up!! You are gross!!"- Joey covered her face with both hands as she shook her head- "You are so fucking funny Jersey, I’m glad I met you."

- "I’m glad I met you too, Iceland. You should stay forever"- she smiled and nodded.

- "I’m not going anywhere today."

- "I mean, you should sign to be a member of the band, like… one of us."

- "One of the guys?"

- "Yeah"- she smiled and held his hand.

- "You are taking this relationship too fast. We’ve been together a few months. We haven’t even moved in together. I don’t think we are quite there yet."

- "You live on my fucking face, Iceland"- Frank laughed and pushed her- "Which reminds me, you have to do your fucking laundry."

- "Yeah… I swear I’ll do it in Spain, while you do all the press and I have the hotel all by myself."

- "You know, sometimes I hate you for that."

- "For not having to do any interviews?"

- "Yeah… I hate those things."

- "Why? 'cos you have to sit in front of a microphone for hours answering the same fucking questions, over and over again?"- she said, smiling.

- "Fuck you."

- "I’m sorry!!"- she laughed, and he grinned- "I bet press sucks, but it comes hand in hand with being a rockstar."

- "I hate that too"- he said and scratched his head, stubbing his cigar in an ashtray- "I just wanted to make music. I don’t know where everything else came from. Sometimes I wish I could stop it all and go home, be with my babies, with my wife."

Frank suddenly had gotten too serious and too deep, something Joey knew was like the comet Halley: it happened once in a lifetime around her.

- "Why don’t you stop?"- she innocently asked, mostly ‘cos she had thought about stopping herself.

- "I don’t know, it’s like… you somehow got trapped in this machine, and it won’t stop working, and if you take a step back, it all collapses…-" he looked at his hands as he spoke, but Joey held them and smiled.

- "I don’t think anything is gonna collapse if you stop doing tour after tour for a while"- she whispered- "There are more important things in life than concerts, you know."

- "Name one"- he said and looked into her eyes.

- "Your kids"

- "Nailed it"- and Joey burst out laughing- "It was too easy!"

- "Exactly, nothing is more important than the ones we love, so shut the fuck up and man up! ask for a break every once in a while, ‘cos this leg of the tour, I must say, has been misery for all of us."

- "I know!"- Frank gesticulated in the most Jersey Italian way that always made Joey laugh- "It’s been hell!"

- "The only good thing of it all, other than the money, I mean"- she said and chuckled- "It’s the fact I can call you my friend."

- "Awww, Iceland. You could have called me your friend from day one, even when I hated the guts out of you."

- "Why did you hate me, by the way?"

- "‘Cos I wanted to do you so bad I didn’t want you in the band"- Frank simply answered, and the drummer raised an eyebrow.

- "Are you joking?"- by her face, Iero could tell the comment hadn’t been the best he had done.

- "Of course, I am!!"- no, he wasn’t- "I just didn’t want to make a circus out of the fact you are a girl. I knew people would start making up stories, and Jamia would be nervous and jealous because of you… having a woman in the band back then meant a mess I didn’t want to deal with."

- "And why did you change your mind?"

- "Mikey forced me"- Joey nodded, and Frank smiled- "And Jamia was really into you from day one. She loved the idea of adding a girl into the tour ‘cos there weren’t enough women in rock… but mostly ‘cos I told her your boyfriend was the hot guy from Criminal Minds, and I swear, she nearly yelled. She wanted me to friend you so she could meet him."

- "I’m in this band ‘cos your wife thinks my soon to be husband is hot?"- and Frank nodded- "I owe Jamia more than I thought I would. Maybe I can send her a picture of Matthew naked"- Frank raised an eyebrow as Joey smiled- "You know she is gonna love those."

- "But he is so tall… he is gonna make me look bad"- he joked, and Joey laughed like she hadn’t laugh that whole day.

- "Of course, he is. But in your defense… he could make every single fucking man on earth look bad. Have you seen his feet?"

- "Joey!! Shut up!!!"

Matthew woke up on his bed, his head killing him and a complete blur of what his night had been. He just sat and scratched his head.

- “What time is it?... wait, how did I get home?... fuck!! What happened last night?!”

The young actor nearly jumped as he started to recap his birthday party. The cast from the movie had arranged a party in a local bar, he was really happy about it, though he almost declined it. He was tired, but his co-star convinced him it was a great idea to go out, get to know everybody a little better, and start his birthday celebration.

- "Oh fuck"- he grunted- "My fucking head is killing me…"- he reached out for his phone and found it on his nightstand. He had a few unread messages from Joey

- “I love you Akumu!”- he smiled right away- “Remember to leave a bottle of water by your bed to keep you hydrated”- and he had indeed left one there- “Save some birthday belated celebration for my comeback in a few days.”

- "Honey!"- his mother’s voice took him from his head as he looked at his bedroom’s door

- "Mom! What are you doing here?"

- "Happy birthday, honey!!"- he stood up and walked over to hug her immediately.

- "Mom! Thank you so much for coming!"

- "I had to come, I have to give you something"- the actor frowned- "This came into the mail for you a few weeks ago, but I had to wait until today to give it to you"

Mrs. Gubler smiled as she gave her son a box. It was completely hand-drawn with jako lanterns, cute skulls, ghosts, and hearts.

- "What is this?"

- "A present that you got from very far away, or so it seems."

Matthew grabbed the box and sat on his bed to open it. Inside, there was a letter from his fiancé, a couple of gorgeous kimonos, Japanese books, art, a few Halloween shirts, and unmatching socks. Matthew was speechless, staring at the box. It was amazing.

- "I can’t believe this"

- "Joey sent it when she reached London, and we agreed I would bring it to you today."

- "Thank you"- he moved over and gave her a hug.

- "Don’t thank me for coming over on your birthday, honey. I love you, thank the girl at the other side of the world who gathered everything you might love and shipped it to you on your special day"- she kissed his cheeks and stood up-" I’m gonna make you breakfast, and you are gonna take a shower ‘cos you stick, are you still drunk?"

- "No mom"

- "Then call your wife! And thank her for the presents!"

- "Yes, mom!"

Matthew grabbed his phone, smiling, and dialed Joey’s number. It rang once. It rang twice. He was about to give up and try later when the girl picked up and smiled at the other side of the screen.

- "Birthday boy!"

- "Baby! You are amazing!"- he quickly said and laid back on his bed- "I just got my presents."

- "Did your mom give you the box?! did you like it?"

- "Hell yeah! It’s amazing, thank you"

- "Did you like the kimonos?"

- "They are the softest!"

- "I know!! I was in shock! You can hang them in the kimono closet!! So when you get home, you can get naked, grab a kimono and just relax!"

- "Are you gonna be naked under your kimono too?"- the girl giggled nervously.

- "That’s very likely"

- "I like that idea. Where are you?"

- "Backstage warming up, we are playing at eight… did you just wake up?"

- "Yeah…"- he whispered and closed his eyes.

- "You were fucking wasted last night."

- "I thought you didn’t notice"- he answered, chuckling, still feeling uneasy about his wild night out. It felt off. Probably ‘cos he was way too hungover.

- "Matthew Gray Gubler, I’m gonna be your wife. I know when you are drunk, you can’t fool me even if you tried your best"- the actor laughed softly (laughing also hurt) and nodded at Joey- "Wait, the guys wanna say hello."

Matthew saw Mikey, Frank, and Ray appear and waved at the camera.

- "Happy birthday, dude!"- Ray said smiling- "How’s the hangover?"

- "Killing me!"

- "Save some liver for our party, man!"- Mikey said and waved too

- "Hope you have a great day!"- Frank added.

- "Thanks, guys!"- Matthew said and waved, yet his eyes were glued at Joey, who kept looking at him with a warm smile.

- "Where’s Gerard?"- Mikey asked and looked around. Gerard. Gubler frowned immediately. He hated him deeply, and he hated the fact Joey worked with him.

- "He was smoking outside"- Frank answered and waved again at the screen- "See you, Gubler!"

- "Bye guys!"- the band walked away, and Joey was now again all alone- "Hey, gorgeous"

- "Hey, wild party beast. What are you doing for the rest of your birthday?"

- "I’m not leaving this bed"- Joey laughed and looked at him in silence for a couple of minutes.

- "I’m gonna be in that bed with you in twelve days, can you believe that?"

- "I’ve waited so long it seems to be an eternity, but at the same time, it feels like it’s gonna be tomorrow."

- "I know exactly how you feel."

- "Honey! breakfast!"- Matthew’s mother yelled from the kitchen, making the young man laugh.

- "I am ten years old again, or was that just a strong flashback?"

- "Go eat, I’ll play a show, and I’ll call you from the hotel, ok?"- he nodded and smiled.

- "I love you so much, Yami."

- "I love you more, Matthew Gray “birthday boy” Gubler. Talk to you in a couple of hours."

The actor hung down and sighed. He felt happy to know he had her in his life. That she was gonna be his wife. As he thought about it, he started going through some of the pictures from the night before. He remembered half of it, but it felt like he had fun.

- "Fuck!!"- he shouted and wide opened his eyes.

Maybe a little too much fun.

Matthew stared at the screen in shock. There was a picture of him kissing two girls at the same time. Two. Girls. Kissing. Him. At. The. Same. Fucking. Time. And it didn’t help when he noticed, one of those girls was his ex-girlfriend.

- "Shit! Shit! Shit!"- he kept going through the party pictures, shots, laughter, his ex kissing him while they danced. Bunch of people, more people laughing, his ex and her friend kissing him again.

- "Fucking shit! What the fuck did I do?!"

Matthew’s heart was about to come out of his throat as he started deleting every single photo from his phone. Why were those there? Why did he do that? Who saw him? Where were those pictures now?

- "What the fuck did you do, mother fucker?! What else did you do?!"

Matthew couldn’t move. He just sat with the phone in his hands, thinking if he erased those pictures from his phone, it was like it never happened. But now it was in his mind, and he couldn’t stop the memories from coming back.

He was drunk and sad after talking with Joey. He had another shot and decided to go home, but his ex-girlfriend and one of her friends- part of the team of the movie he was filming- appeared and invited him to dance. Drunk Matthew didn’t seem to think it was a bad idea and joined them on the dancefloor. They danced, the girls started kissing. Gubler liked it and didn’t move away when they moved closer to him and started kissing with him too.

- "Oh fuck!!"- he wanted to kill himself.

But that wasn’t all. He wished it was, but it was all coming back now. His ex took him to the backroom.

- "No!"- Matthew yelled, widening his eyes- "No!"- he repeated, as his mother appeared running into his room.

- "Honey! What is it?! What happened?"

- "I fucked it up!"- he simply answered and didn’t move an inch

- "What are you talking about?"

- "Last night at the party… I ran into Annie, and she was with a friend and…"- the actor made a pause and scratched his head aggressively

- "Matthew?"

- "And they kissed me happy birthday…"

- "Matthew?"

- "And then… mom sorry, I can’t tell you this"- the young man tried to stand up, but his mother stopped him.

- "Matthew Gray Gubler, what did you do last night?"

- "I made out with them, and Annie gave me a blowjob"- he covered his face with both hands, embarrassed and regretful. He felt sick, dirty, gross. He felt like an animal, like everything he had always hated, like a man who cheated.

He cheated. And he wasn’t going to be able to undo it or even forget it.

Matthew broke into tears quietly at first, but his sobbing grew bigger, sadder, and more desperate. He hated himself, he needed to find a way to forget about what had happened, but he couldn’t. Instead, the memories kept coming; Annie kneeled in front of him.

- "Mom… I fucked it up."

- "Yes"- she simply replied- "You did, and Joey is gonna find out, no matter if you don’t tell her."

- "How do you know? Maybe no one saw us"- the actor was in denial and desperate to find anything that could keep him from dealing with the truth- I might have just dreamt the whole thing, maybe it never happened

- "Matthew?"

- "Maybe I can forget about it. If I don’t remember it, then it never happened."

- "Matthew"

- "Mom, I can’t tell her!"- he nearly shouted, nervous and grossed out by himself.

- "I didn’t raise a liar or a cheater"- the young man looked at his mother with watered-up eyes.

- "How am I supposed to tell her something like this? she is gonna hate me! She is gonna break up with me, mom. I know her."

- "You have to take responsibility for the things you’ve done, Matthew. You said you wanted to marry her. You can’t start that commitment with a lie."

- "She is gonna hate me… fuck, I hate me…"

- "Well, you brought it to yourself, Matthew Gray, so you have to fix it."

Gubler took a long shower and cried half of it. He couldn’t believe what he had gotten into. Or why. What had gotten into him to get so drunk ‘till the point of letting his ex-girlfriend give him a blow job? That wasn’t him. He remembered he felt bad after talking with Joey. He knew he couldn’t stop thinking she was touring with Gerard and hated him. What if he had tried to make his move on her? What if she fell for him? She wouldn’t. But what if she did? They had been apart for so long. No, he trusted her with his life. She would never do such a thing.

Then why had he done it?

Matthew honestly wanted to kill himself. That’s how guilty he felt. He knew Joey was never going to forgive him, and he was considering not ever telling her. She was never going to find out if he didn’t confess. Maybe he could take it to the grave.

Mikey hugged Joey goodnight and watched her walk to her room. Gerard looked at them from the other side of the hallway. The girl waved at him, and he waved back.

- "Hey! What are you doing?"- Mikey asked his brother as he lazily walked over him, weary after the show.

- "I just wanted to know if you wanna hang out. James and Frank are locked in their rooms already. Maybe we can watch a movie or something. I don’t feel like being on my own for a while"- Mikey nodded at Gerard.

- "Sure, man. Let me take a shower, and I’ll be right there."

Originally, Gerard wanted to drag Joey along with his brother, ‘cos it seemed like the only way to hang out with her. But she had disappeared way too fast to make his move.

The girl took a shower, put on her pajamas, and dialed Matthew’s number. He didn’t reply.

- "Hangover man has to be hanging out with his mom"- the girl thought out loud and grabbed a book to kill time. He was going to call when he was ready to talk.

Was he?

Matthew saw his cell phone right and froze. His hands shook when he reached out to answer, and that’s when he realized he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to be able to lie to her. But he couldn’t tell her either. He was home alone. His mom was out, mainly to give him space to think and talk with Joey in private. But yet, Matthew didn’t know what to do or what to say.

- "Ok, she is the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, and you are willing to do everything that’s in your power to keep her by your side"- he said and looked at his reflex in the mirror and then washed his face.

- "Akumu!"- Joey smiled as soon as he saw him- "How was breakfast?"

- "Chocolate chips hotcakes with a whipped cream smile on top, and lots of coffee."

- "Spoiled by your mother on your birthday, lucky man"- he smiled and felt a knot in his throat.

- “Fuck! this is going to be so hard!” And how was the show?"

- "It was good, not the finest though… we are all so fucking tired"- the girl laid on her bed and smiled at her boyfriend- "When I get home, I’m not leaving that bed Matthew Gray Gubler, I’m gonna spend every second there... sleeping."

- "I’m not planning on sleeping if you are in this bed"- he answered and felt his voice shake at the end of the sentence, guilt taking over him.

- "You are gonna have to let me sleep at least a day. I’m so fucking tired and jet-lagged all the time. This tour ruined my sleeping schedule"- Joey joked but frowned as she noticed her boyfriend had tears falling from his eyes- "Akumu, what is it? Are you ok? Why are you crying?"

- "‘Cos I miss you"- he simply answered- "I miss you so fucking much! Can we just get married when you get here? I’ll pick you up at the airport, drive us to the nearest church, and we just get married right away"- the girl sighed with watered-up eyes herself as she stared at Gubler sobbing.

- "I miss you too… and I can’t wait to marry you either."

- "Can you promise me you’ll always be with me? No matter what?"

- "Matthew, I swear I’ll always be by your side"- the girl felt broken-hearted by the emotion in her fiancé’s words. She had never seen him so sad before, was it because she wasn’t there on his birthday?- "That is the main reason why I wanna marry you dorky, ‘cos I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, in one eternal Halloween"- Matthew smiled at those words and wiped off his tears.

- "Sorry, I’m just a little emotional… ‘cos I miss you, and I need you here."

- "I’m sorry I couldn’t be there."

- "No, Yami, don’t be sorry. You are working! And you are so awesome and incredible. I swear I don’t deserve you."

Matthew kept trying to stop crying, but it was harder than he thought. He was feeling so guilty, so low, the worst human on earth. And the girl on the other side of the world was just telling him she thought he was the best man amongst them all.

- "Yes, you do! You are an incredible man, hangover boy! I should be the one telling you how amazing you are, it’s your birthday! I want to make you feel happy all the time, please don’t be sad!"

- "I just need to see your face to be happy today"- he answered without hesitation and sighed- "You know what?"

- "What?"

- "I’m gonna tour with you."

- "What?"- Joey frowned and looked at how Matthew sat correctly on his bed and fixed his hair.

- "Yes, I will. I hate this. I hate being apart from you this long. So next couple of months, I’m gonna follow you wherever you go."

- "You’d do that for me?"- the girl widened her eyes

- "Joey, I would do anything for you"- Matthew made sure to pronounce every word as slowly as possible as he looked at her eyes- "So I’ll schedule plane tickets to be with you."

- "And your work?"

- "You are more important than my job. I can’t be like this anymore, we are gonna finish the movie in two weeks, and after that, my only job will be to clap after every song you play"- Joey smiled, feeling her heart swell with love, as a few more tears fell from her eyes.

- "You are making me so happy."

- "My plans for as long as I live exactly."

Mikey and Gerard were laid watching tv. Mikey kept surfing channels while Gerard sipped his diet coke and scrolled down his Twitter timeline. Neither of them felt like talking, pretty much ‘cos they were tired, and after being so many weeks stuck together, there wasn’t much new to say.

- "Weird!"- Mikey chuckled as they caught a Criminal Minds episode and Matthew as Spencer Reid appeared on screen- "I never thought I’d friend this guy."

- "Why did you do that? he is an asshole"- Gerard simply answered and kept his eyes stuck on the phone.

- "He’s not an asshole. He is hilarious. You’d like him if you met him."

- "Not interested"- Mikey frowned and kept surfing channels- "Wow, I thought you were going to watch your boyfriend’s show."

- "Wow, very mature, Gerard."

- "Sorry"- the singer knew he had crossed the line, mostly ‘cos he shouldn’t show how much he hated Matthew because…

- "Why do you hate him so much?"- because Mikey could start asking questions, and he didn’t want to talk.

- "I don’t hate him. He is not my friend, which is very different."

- "And Joey is not your friend either"- Mikey added- "You never talk to her."

- "She never talks to me"- Gerard added, and his voice betrayed him, showing some bitterness in his words.

- "Well, maybe because you didn’t want her in the band."

- "It’s been months. Get over it."

- "Now that I think about it, you are not even close to her at all…"

- "You are way too close to her, close enough for the two of us"- Gerard spit those words, still not looking at his brother.

- "What? Are you jealous or something?"

- "No!"- he snorted- "Why? Should I?"

- "I don’t know. You are being an asshole."

- "I’m just tired…"- Gerard came up with the worst excuse ever

- "Ok, if you are tired, I’ll leave you to sleep, dude, you are not what I call a pleasure to hang out with anyway"- Mikey stood up and walked to the door- "See you tomorrow at the plane."

Mikey left the room, and Gerard groaned, annoyed. He grabbed the remote control and surfed the channels until he found Criminal Minds again. He just wanted to see Matthew’s face to hate him even more.

- "What’s so special about this asshole? He is just a pretty boy, no talent, definitely no acting skills… He is tall. That’s all he has in his favor"- Gerard was arguing with the television out loud.

- "I mean… it’s clear he is not as smart as his character, and he ain’t funny either, shit! I bet he hasn’t done anything but this stupid tv show and those 3 minutes in the Wes Anderson movie."

Gerard opened google and searched for information about Matthew Gray Gubler, just to make sure he was a loser. He hated to know he wasn’t, though Gerard thought everything he had done had been pathetic so far. Everything but proposing Joey. And that was what Gerard hated the most. It was sick, and he knew it, that obsession he had about that girl, the one he couldn’t have. He just couldn’t take the idea of being with her out of his mind. Why? Was it because obviously, she didn’t want him? Many girls hadn’t wanted him before. Why was this one killing him slowly?

- "Oh fuck!"- Gerard nearly shook with his coke when he saw a picture of Matthew’s birthday- "Oh man!! I knew you were too good for my girl!!"- Gerard wanted to jump when he saw a picture of Matthew making out with a girl and the comment: “Matthew Gray Gubler birthday, 2011”.

- "You are going down!!"

::: Munich, March 10th, 2011 :::

Ray and Joey walked out of a Krispy Kremes at the airport, waiting for their flight to Valencia, holding a huge box of freshly made donuts. Joey was in heaven, and Ray was laughing at how excited she was about coffee and sugar.

- "Touring with you and Mikey together has been the best training to be a dad one day"- the guitarist said, chuckling.

- "Are you planning on having babies, dad?"

- "Yeah, it’s something me and Christa have talked about a few times. I want to wait until life gets a little bit less… messy ‘cos I wanna be with her the whole way and enjoy our babies."

- "Oh, dad, you are so cute"- the girl pout and punched his arm- "I want babies too, but I don’t think it will happen soon."

- "Why?"

- "Well, ‘cos I guess I want to wait until I have a steady job first."

- "And what is this for you?"- Toro gesticulated.

- "I’m your drummer for the tour Ray. The tour will end at some point, though it seems endless right now, and I will have to look for another job. And what if I get another tour drummer job? I’m gonna have to travel again. When am I going to be home with my husband to make and raise a baby?"

- "Well… after the tour you could be our studio drummer too, and you can stay in Los Angeles with Matthew and start making babies"- the girl chuckled at those words, though she liked the idea- "You should name your firstborn Ray though, I’ll put that in the contract"- both of them laughed and reached their gate.

- "Kids! Sugar!"- Joey’s smile shone as she gave Frank and Mikey the donuts box.

Gerard looked at her and sighed, thinking he wanted to tell her what he knew about Matthew, but it hurt him to know how much damage it was going to mean for her

- "Hey, Gerard!"- she snapped her fingers in front of him- "This one has your name on it. I figured you’d like a cappuccino cream donut."

- "Thank you"- he felt his cheeks blushing as he held the donut and smiled at Joey- "Sugar low?"

- "Yeah, my body needs some fuel to work until we reach the next hotel, and I can sleep some more."

- "Why? You didn’t sleep well last night?"- Gerard bit his donut and stared at Joey’s cheek turning red.

- "No, I stayed up talking with Matthew until three am."

- "Wow… really? Everything ok?"- Gerard’s heart beat a little faster with those words. She wouldn’t be so happy if she knew what Gubler was doing behind her back. Or did she not care? No, it was more likely she had no idea.

- "Yeah, we just miss each other a lot, and it was his birthday. I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, even on FaceTime."

- "His birthday!"- Gerard nodded- "Right, so he didn’t party or whatever?“Smooth dude, good”

- "He did, the night before with some friends from work, he was kind of hungover"- Joey smiled again- "So last night was our moment to celebrate."

- "Dude, please. I don’t wanna picture you and Matthew having phone sex"- Frankie showed up and grabbed Joey’s coffee- "I mean, you, that I can imagine, but him… not so much."

- "Jersey!!"- the girl frowned and smacked him.

- "What?!"

- "Stop being disgusting!"- he chuckled, and she took her coffee back from his hands

- "We all knew what you meant when you said you “stayed up talking with Matthew until three am”- Iero air quoted and laughed again- "We’ve all been there, I’ve been there like three times in the latest weeks."

- "Come on!!!"- Joey smacked him again and walked away. Frank kept laughing for a few seconds and finished his donut.

- "Hey guys, come closer"- Gerard whispered as he noticed Joey had walked away, probably to the bathroom- "I need to tell you something."

- "What?"- Mikey raised an eyebrow as he moved closer ‘cos his brother had whispered.

- "Last night, I was on Twitter, and this picture of Gubler appeared… he… he cheated on Joey at his birthday party."

Gerard had prepared the speech to make sure no one would ever know he had been looking for information about Gubler and saved the picture as proof.

- "What the fuck?"- Mikey grabbed the phone from his brother’s hand and took a look at the picture.

- "Are you sure that’s him?"- Ray moved closer and took a long look at the picture.

- "Yeah! It’s him! He cheated on the party Joey told us he had with his friends"- Mikey was in shock. He walked away and closed his eyes, thinking about Joey and how she would take the news. Frank was so mad. He wanted to kill that guy. He also walked away and murmured curses for a minute straight. Ray couldn’t believe it, and his only concern at the moment was:

- "We have to tell her"

- "How can we tell her that?!"- Mikey pointed at the phone- "We are gonna break her!"

- "He broke her!"- Gerard argued- "He is the one who fucked it up! We are her friends, and we have to let her know what’s going on"- the band stayed quiet, neither of them knowing what to say.

- "Hey kids!"- Joey appeared suddenly smiling- "Why did you all get all serious? Did something happen?"

- "Yeah"- Gerard said, and Frank quickly interrupted him.

- "I ate the last donut and didn’t share it"- the girl raised an eyebrow.

- "Bullshit."

- "No, Gerard wanted it, and it seems I tend to hoard all the sweets…"- Joey frowned at that nonsense.

- "You do"- Mikey supported his lie flawlessly- "You always eat more than us!"

- "Ok… sure…"- Joey walked to a chair and looked at her phone. Mikey turned to his brother and punched his arm.

- "Not here! Don’t be an asshole! We wait until we are in the hotel! You can’t do this in public!"- Gerard felt like an ass. His brother was right. He was so desperate to end that relationship he wasn’t thinking straight.

He wanted to end a relationship that wasn’t even his. What had he turned into? A cold-blooded asshole who craved a girl so much, he was willing to ruin her life to get a chance to be with her?

Mikey was playing with his fingers nonstop. He just wanted to get out of the plane and avoid Joey for a long while. He was thankful the girl was sound asleep next to him ‘cos he knew he wouldn’t be able to pretend things were cool and peachy. Mikey knew he was a lousy liar. He wasn’t going to act like everything was good.

- "Hey"- Frank waved and pointed to the back of the plane. Mikey stood up and followed him, there Ray and Gerard were waiting for them.

- "What is it?"

- "We have to talk about what happened. When are we going to tell her?"- Gerard said, and the four of them looked at each other in silence for a few seconds- "I know it’s crap, but we can’t leave her in the dark about it… can we?"

- "No man"- Frank said and took a look around, scared the girl might see or hear them- "But… she is gonna be a mess, and I don’t wanna feel like we did this to her."

- "He did this to her"- Gerard quickly replied- "This whole shit is his fault."

- "Gubler should tell her"- Iero added. He didn’t feel like he could do such harm to her friend. He was going to harm Gubler, but not Joey.

- "He won’t do that, Frank"- Ray said- "But… I don’t want to be a cold bitch here, but we’ve got the Valencia show in two days, and that shit will be televised… if we tell her… and she wants to leave…"

- "Dude, we can’t wait that long"- Gerard interrupted him.

- "Why not?"- Ray asked, and Way didn’t reply. His honest answer was: “Because I wanna hold her tight and tell her “everything is gonna be ok” as soon as possible. And I also want to ruin Matthew’s life in the shortest notice”.

- "Because if she finds out that we knew and we didn’t tell her, we are gonna pay. She is gonna think we betrayed her"- Mikey answered instead of Gerard, ‘cos he had a reasonable answer.

- "You are right"- Ray nodded- "And that would be hell"- the four of them nodded.

- "So? Tonight?"- Frank asked- "We should get her something…"

- "Like what? Flowers?"- Gerard asked, confused.

- "Like alcohol, chocolate, chick flicks"- Mikey frowned at his brother- "So you never helped a friend when her boyfriend dumped her?"- and Gerard stayed still- "Wow, you can’t cease to amaze me."

- "I didn’t have many girlfriends back in the days"- Gerard explained.

- "Whatever…"

- "Ok, so after dinner, we go to her room"- Frank finished, and they all accepted- "Ok, now let me go to the bathroom ‘cos I need to take a piss, come on, move it."

Ray looked around his room and sighed. He had called Christa and told her what was going on. He felt responsible for Joey’s wellbeing, and at that moment, he was scared of what would happen. His wife was in shock. She couldn’t believe Matthew had done such a thing. She even doubted it was real.

- "Are you sure that the picture isn’t photoshopped?"

- "Yeah!"

- "Really?"- Ray doubted

- "Well, it looked very real to me"

- "Why don’t you ask him?"

- "Yes, honey! He is going to come clean right away!"

- "I mean it, baby! Maybe it wasn’t a party, maybe it was a scene from his coming up film out of context, maybe it was a bad angle."

- "Christa, the tongue of two women were liking him at the very same time unless he is doing porn, there is no way that’s from his upcoming movie!"- Ray made a point, and his wife’s silence made it clear. Now he was walking in circles, trying to set his mind straight. He had never done this before, and shit, he didn’t want to.

The guitarist grabbed the Pride and Prejudice blu ray he had gotten that afternoon and sighed. It was time. He walked out to the hall and into the elevator. Just outside of Joey’s room, he bumped into Mikey and Frank. One held a paper bag with some chocolates and candies, and the other, a whiskey bottle. Of course, the whiskey guy was Iero.

- "Should we wait for Gerard?"- Ray asked

- "Nah"- Frank knocked and waited- "He is always late."

- "And you are always so on time"- Mikey joked and chuckled.

- "Hey! Ready for that movie?"- Joey opened the door smiling- "Say hello to Matthew!!"- the girl flipped her phone, and her boyfriend waved at the band.

- "Hey guys"- but neither of them smiled at him.

- "We are gonna watch a movie"- Joey turned and walked back- "I’ll call you in a while, ok?"

- "Sure, Yami. I love you so much!"

- "I love you more!"

- "Have fun"- Joey hung down and looked at her friends, narrowing her eyes, upset- "What the fuck is your problem?"

- "Bug, we need to talk"- the knock on the door interrupted Mikey, but Frank walked over quickly and opened it.

- "We are starting. What did you bring?"- Gerard frowns at that questions

- "You weren’t kidding? We had to bring something? Like a birthday party?"

- "Shit, you are an asshole"- Frank just shook his head.

- "Mikey, Ray? What is it?"- the girl sat on her bed, leg crossed, as Mikey sat next to her and held her hand.

- "Turns out we’ve got some news for you."

- "Am I fired?"- she wide opened her eyes in shock- "I am, right? Fuck I knew this was gonna happen eventually."

- "No, Bug, you are not fired"- Ray sat next to Mikey and smiled- "We are more than happy to have you here, and we would love to have you with us forever."

- "Yeah, Iceland, you are one of us now. Deal with the fact you are doomed"- Frank said and moved closer to the girl to mess with her hair.

- "Then?"- she asked and looked at the four worried faces in front of her- "What is it? ‘Cos it seems serious."

None of them knew how to say it, though each of them had practiced it in front of the mirror. And Gerard, the one who was anxious to say it, suddenly felt the remorse of being the one to break it on Joey’s face. He knew it had to happen, though. That didn’t make it less sad.

- "Joey, last night I found this picture of Gubler’s birthday party on Twitter"- the singer simply said and gave her his phone.

Mikey closed his eyes, and Frank looked down. Neither of them was able to face the girl at the moment. Joey just stared at the screen in silence for at least a minute, holding her breath. There he was, Matthew. Cheating. What she thought was impossible happened. And the most profound pain she could feel took over her body second by second.

Her world fell down. She couldn’t believe it. Matthew was kissing his ex-girlfriend. She recognized her right away, the other girl, she had no idea who she was.

He betrayed her trust. He destroyed her heart, she could feel it breaking inside her chest, with deep aching pain, and it didn’t let her breathe. She wanted everybody out of the room to cry alone. She wanted to smash Gerard’s phone against the wall. And most of all, she wanted to find an explanation, maybe an excuse for that fucking image. It was to be a lie. Matthew would never do that. Never. Thoughts kept rolling down her head. It was a lie. It had to be. Maybe a fan photoshopped it. Perhaps it was old. Maybe it wasn’t Gubs, just a lookalike.

- "Joey…"- Mikey whispered- "Are you ok?"

- "Is that the only picture you saw?"- the girl asked with a cold tone in her voice.

- "No"- Gerard murmured and frowned as he noticed the lack of emotion in Joey’s face

- "Can you send me the pictures, please?"- her voice was turning shaky while she made an effort to stay calm.

Joey hated to cry, and overall, she hated to cry in front of people. She hated when people pitied her, and at the moment, it was all she was feeling coming from her friends. Pity.

-  "Bug, it is ok to be sad"- Mikey said and held her hand tight.

- "I’m not sad, I’m mad"- her eyes were filled with tears she refused to cry. Her jaws felt tight. She didn’t even want to talk anymore.

- "Hey, we are here- Ray kneeled in front of Joey and tucked away some of her hair that was falling on her face. He kept his brown eyes in hers, locked, trying to read her reaction. He realized how much she was trying to hold back. He knew his friend pretty well, and he could tell how embarrassed she was to share this with everybody. So he whispered:

- "Joey, do you want to be alone for a little while?"- and she quickly nodded, biting the inside of her cheeks.

- "Dude, we can’t leave her alone!"- Gerard immediately said and hit his friend’s arm. But Ray didn’t leave Joey’s eyes, not even for a second, and she did the same.

- "No, she is going to be ok, we are going to leave her alone for a while, and I am going to take her key, is that ok, Joey?"- the girl nodded again- "Ok, so I’ll take your key. I’ll come back in an hour to see if you need anything, ok?"

Joey couldn’t even say a word, so she nodded one last time and looked at Ray stand up.

- "Dude? What the fuck?"- Gerard was in shock, but Mikey understood immediately what Ray was doing.

- "I love you"- the youngest Way whispered and kissed Joey’s cheek. She got even tenser at his touch. She felt she was going to break into tears if anyone else touched her. So she refused to hug anybody.

- "Bug, if you need a drink, I left your favorite whiskey on the table… I’ll stop by later to have a shot with you, ok?"- Frank whispered and cut her a short smile. She nodded and watched them walk away. Gerard didn’t want to move, he took a few steps closer and opened his arms, but Joey quickly moved from him and frowned, like a frightened cat trying to escape from everything and everybody.

- "Gerard, leave her, she is ok"- Ray grabbed Gerard’s arm and pushed him- "I’ll come back in an hour, Bug"- the girl watched them walking to the door, Gerard kept looking back at her, concerned and scared she wasn’t going to be ok on her own.

- "Dude, this is wrong"- he argued the second they closed the door- "We can’t leave her there! It’s not safe!"- and just then, Joey’s yells crying froze the four of them- "Give me the key!"- Gerard argued and tried to take it from Ray’s pocket.

- "No! She needs to be on her own! She needs to cry, and she is never going to cry in front of us!"

- "What the fuck do you know?"- the singer questioned obfuscated.

- "Calm down, Gee. Ray is right"- Mikey said and sighed- "Joey needs to be alone, she ain’t going to kill herself, she just needs to yell and cry, and probably call that mother fucker and break up with him."

- "Yeah, come on"- Frank tapped on Gerard’s back and started walking- "Let’s get a beer, smoke a cigarette, and we can come back in a while. Ray has the key, so we know she won’t lock herself alone."

Gerard hated his friends at that moment. He had to be there for her, hold her, kiss her, console her. What the fuck was he doing with those guys? She needed him. He had to be with her. Why were they doing this?

- "So you don’t care?"- Gerard squabbled, and Mikey simply sighed.

- "You don’t know how she is like…"- and his brother’s words were enough to insult Gerard and shut him up.

Joey was on her knees on the floor, crying. Gasping for air every few seconds and feeling how every tear in her body came out at the same time. There was a void in her chest, right where it used to be her heart. Matthew Gray Gubler broke her heart. He broke her. All the fears she had locked inside ‘cos Matthew made her trust were now out again, and a voice in the back of her head kept telling her, “You knew this was going to happen if you were stupid enough to trust someone.”

But he was so good for her. How could he do that? Was it something she had done? Was it because she wasn’t there? You can’t be stuck with somebody to keep them from cheating. You don’t cheat. If you are not happy, you break up.

Joey felt sick in her stomach and had to rush to the bathroom. She puked crying, she couldn’t stop doing either of them. She kept choking with tears as she vomited. Until it was done. She flushed and stayed there, on the bathroom floor, crying and shaking in sadness. In fear. In disappointment.

What was she going to do? She had to break up with him. She couldn’t marry a cheater, and she wasn’t going to trust him ever again. Two fucking girls at the same time. What if he had done it before and got caught just now? For how long had he been doing that? What if she was seeing other girls regularly?

- "I knew this was going to happen. You don’t date a guy like that and expect him to be faithful…"- the girl whispered to herself, weeping- "He had nothing to do with a girl like me. Take a look at yourself, you dumb slut!"

Joey never said it out loud. She never let herself think about it. She refused to accept the fact she was weak. She had always hated herself. She felt she wasn’t worthy of anything good. All the years in the orphanage had left more than scars on her skin. They were also in her mind. You don’t spend years watching kids leaving with families and don’t convince yourself you are not good enough to be picked, to be happy. And when a family picks you up, you think it’s not you. It’s pity.

Sure, you can cover it up. You can be serious. You can stay away emotionally from people. You can find shelter in music and hide from the world in it. You can kick people’s ass when they hurt you or insult you. You can lie and say you are not “a people person,” whatever that means. But none of that can erase the fact that you feel alone, unwanted. Worthless.

- "I wanna call this mother fucker and fucking yell at him the kind of scumbag he is!!"- Frank said as he lit another cigarette and took a look at his watch- "She has been alone for half an hour, do you think she is ok?"

- "Of course, she is not ok, but she has to handle it. She is a grown woman"- Ray answered and sipped his beer.

- "I can’t believe he did this to her"- Mikey whispered- "She, of all the women I’ve known, doesn’t deserve to be treated like this."

A few tears filled his eyes, and he quickly wiped them off, lighting a cigarette too.

- "I’m gonna kill him, as soon as we get home, I’m gonna kill this mother fucker. I’ve got his fucking address, I’m gonna get there, and fucking break every bone in his body with my own hands"- Mikey was losing his cool. He stood up and walked around the hotel’s terrace, and looked at the city lighten in front of him. Frank stared at his friends and stood up too.

- "I’m with you, but we can’t be like this in front of her."

- "I know"- Mikey scratched his head and smoked in silence for a few seconds- "I’m not doing press tomorrow,"- he announced- "I’m staying with her all day long."

- "You can’t just…"- but Gerard’s words were lost in the air knowing his brother wasn’t asking, he was letting them know what he was doing.

- "Maybe we could take turns"- Frankie thought out loud- "You stay with her in the morning, Ray stays with her after lunch, and so on"- they all nodded. Gerard felt excited there was a chance he was going to get time alone with her.

- "Let’s see if she approves it first"- Ray said, and Mikey smiled for a second. He could picture Joey arguing she was ok, and him simply just staying with her, not taking no for an answer. She was going to be pissed.

- "Can we please check on her?"- Gerard tried to ask, but in real life, it sounded like he was begging- "I’m worried"- Ray sighed and took a look at his clock

- "Thirty more minutes"

- "Why at the hour?"- the eldest Way questioned

- "‘Cos she has to put her shit together before we come back, and she knows we’ll come back in an hour."

Joey walked around her room, holding a glass of whiskey. Her third glass of whiskey. Her phone was in her hand, and her finger was about to push “dial.”

- "You can do this"- she said to herself. She had cleaned her face, wiped off all the tears, combed her hair, and taken a long time calming herself down. More than anything, she didn’t want Matthew to see her cry. She couldn’t show any weakness to him.

She knew she would never be fully ready to do this, but if not now, when? So she dialed.

- "Hey Yami!! How’s the movie? Is it over yet?"- Matthew’s face filled the screen, and Joey needed a few seconds to put herself together again. His face was too much to handle. She still loved him too much to see him after what had just happened. Maybe FaceTime hadn’t been the best idea.

- "You cheated on me"- she managed to say. Matthew’s heart stopped- "It’s all over Twitter!!! You fucking cheated on me, and you just pretended it was all perfect??!"

Gubler sat on his couch and looked at his mom, who was next to him, reading. She slowly stood up and walked to the other room. He kept his eyes on Joey’s face and held his breath. Why did he think he could hide it from her? Now, what was he going to say? Was he going to deny it? Could he?

- "Yami, I..."

- "Don’t fucking Yami me, Matt"- she spit the last word with disdain, ‘cos she knew how much he hated being called that way- "You lied, you cheated, and you ruined everything!"

- "Joey, please, listen to me"- the young man stood up and started walking around the room, not knowing what to do or what to say.

- "What should I listen to? Do you think you can talk your way out of this?"- Matthew brushed his hand on his face and scratched his hair, confused and scared.

- "Joey, listen, I was drunk. It didn’t mean anything."

- "What? So being drunk is the perfect excuse for me to accept the fact your ex-girlfriend’s tongue was down your throat, and with another girl too? What the fuck?!"

- "Joey, it didn’t mean anything! It was a mistake!"

- "A “mistake”? How many “mistakes” have you made ever since I left? Tell me."

- "Please, Joey, listen to me. I was drunk, they started dancing, and they kissed me and…"

- "And you fucking took them home and fucked the two of them at the fucking same time. I can picture that very clear, the same fucking bed you said you wanted me to be in."

- "Joey! No!! That’s not what happened!"

- "Then enlighten me, Matthew. Tell me, what the fuck happened?"

Gubler sighed and bit his lips. He didn’t want to tell her, but he knew he had to. She was going to find out the truth one way or another. Maybe if he came clean with her, she would understand. He loved her. She knew that. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, but it didn’t mean a thing, anything at all.

- "We were at the party, and you called… we talked, and I decided to go home."

- "Sure"- she interrupted sarcastically.

- "Listen, I wanted to go home ‘cos I missed you, but Mark found me and got me a couple of drinks. I was super drunk already when Ann appeared."

- "So you had invited her?"

- "No! No way! I had no idea she was there!"

- "But you got thrilled to see her."

- "I didn’t care! Joey, please, believe me. I was just drunk and stupid, but it didn’t mean a thing!"

- "You fucked her!!"

- "I didn’t fuck neither of them!"

- "There are pictures!! Pictures of you and her and… you were leaving together"

- "We didn’t fuck! Joey, I swear!!"

- "Sorry, but I can’t believe you! I can’t believe a word that’s coming from your lips!"

- "Joey, Yami, baby, love… I swear, I didn’t fuck with them"

- "Then what happened?"

Joey was severe and cold. She had managed not to cry so far, and that made her feel proud. She was devastated and nearly suicidal inside, but she wasn’t going to give Matthew the pleasure of seeing her destroyed because of him. Not that day.

- "Joey… nothing happened."

- "Matthew, if you are going to lie, and I discover that you did…"

- "Ann took me to the back room and decided she wanted to give me a birthday present, so she..." - Joey closed her eyes and threw the phone to the bed.

- "Hijo de la gran puta!! (son of a bitch!!)"- she managed to yell, losing it for a second.

- "It was just a blowjob. Nothing else happened, I swear, Joey! and I stopped her!"- Matthew broke in tears as Joey walked around the room, poured herself another whiskey, and looked at the phone still on her bed.

- "Just a blowjob??! Just a blowjob, Matthew?? Do you fucking believe that shit??"

- "Joey, it meant nothing!!! I didn’t want to do it!!"

- "Bullshit!!"- Joey grabbed the phone again and cut him a look so full of hate Matthew knew he was losing her second by second.

- "Yami, please, I hate myself too, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to undo this!! I was too drunk! I thought it was you, and when I saw her, I stopped it"- Joey scoffed and bit her lips to stop the tears- "I regret everything that happened, it was stupid, and it meant nothing, I fucking love you, Joey, you are my bride! you are my love and my whole life!"

- "No"- she quickly replied.

- "Joey, please."

- "No, Matthew. I am not your bride, and I am not your life, not anymore. I am merely the girl you fucking broke and lied to."

- "Please, please try to understand, it wasn’t me, it was a mistake! I didn’t mean it!!"

- "But it happened, Matthew, and that’s it. You can’t undo it."

- "Please, please! you have to forgive me."

- "Why should I forgive you, Matthew? ‘Cos I love you? Is that enough?"- the girl stopped talking, ‘cos her eyes were filled with tears, and she was still making her best not to cry in front of him. But it was getting too hard. Nearly impossible.

- "Joey, please don’t leave me"- the boy begged, his voice as a whisper at the other side of the line. He was crying like a baby, sobbing and walking around his house, not knowing what to do- "Yami, I need you"- every word that came from his lips cracked each of her already shattered heart into another tiny piece.

- "You should have thought of that before, shouldn’t you?"- the girl answered coldly- "You know how much it took me to trust you, Matthew, how much it took me to give you my heart, to you, for the very fucking first time in my life."

- "Please, please… give me another chance…"- he was sobbing, and Joey couldn’t hold it anymore. She broke into tears in front of him as well.

He looked at her, still thinking there was a chance she could forgive him. He didn’t mean to hurt her. It was a mistake. He loved her. She knew it. What did he have to do to change her mind? To keep her by his side.

- "No"- Joey answered, whimpering- "There are no second chances, Matthew."

- "Please, Joey, I am so so so sorry!"

- "Being sorry doesn’t fix anything."

- "I love you"

- "You didn’t care about that when she sucked your dick, did you?"- Joey managed to say, drying the tears from her eyes- "You just fucking enjoyed it, and fucked with my feelings, ‘cos I wasn’t supposed to know."

- "I love you so much"

- "So what?"- she simply answered- "So I should forgive you ‘cos you love me?"

- "I’d do anything for you."

- "You should have started by not cheating."

Joey took a deep breath and looked at Gubler sobbing at the other side of the line, desperate, honestly desperate

- "Bye, Matthew."

- "No, Joey! Wait! Don’t!"

But that was all Joey could handle. She threw the phone back to her bed and fell on the floor, crying her eyes out again. It was too much for her; she wasn’t going to make this alive. Joey loved him so much, but Matthew had damaged her to the edge of sanity. She was proud she had managed the situation mostly cold-headed. She wanted him. She wanted to forgive him so badly. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t going to believe him ever again.

- "Bug?"- Ray opened the door and found her lying on the bed. Mikey ran to her and held her. She wasn’t crying anymore. She looked in shock. He almost broke into tears next to her, not knowing what to do. She merely blinked. She wasn’t talking. She just laid there, curl up, almost lifeless. Barely alive.

Mikey hugged her tight, lying next to her, trying to keep her warm, ‘cos she kept shaking. Frank wiped off the tears from his eyes as he turned around and poured himself a whiskey.

Gerard looked at the scene from a safe distance while Ray tried to talk to Joey, and Frank started drinking, trying not to show how insanely angry he was. Gerard felt like shit. He didn’t think it would affect him so much. But suddenly, he was feeling guilty. Honestly and deeply guilty. He was the one who found out. He was the one who was eager to tell her. He was the one who told her. And an hour ago, he was excited about it, ‘cos it meant she wasn’t going to be with Matthew anymore. But he was so selfish he never stopped himself from thinking what was going to happen to her. How it was going to affect her. And Gerard felt now like a monster.

- "I’m ok kids"- Joey whispered and cut Ray a slight smile- "I’m just tired."

- "Do you want something to eat?"- he asked, but she shook her head- "I’m gonna leave these chocolates here, ok?"

- "Thank you…"- Mikey kissed the top of her head and snuggled her closer. Her phone kept ringing on the floor. Frank quickly grabbed it. It already had five missing calls from Matthew.

- "This mother fucker is gonna…"

- "Please don’t"- but Joey’s words were useless, Frank picked up, ignoring her.

- "Joey!"- Gubler yelled at the other side of the line.

- "Don’t you fucking dare calling her again!!"- Frank yelled with hate- "You are not getting close to her. You are not talking to her. You are dead! Heard me? You are dead to her, and if you fucking get close to her, I am gonna fucking kill you, heard me? I’m gonna kill you!!"

Frank didn’t even let him reply. He hung down and turned off the phone.

- "Why did you do that?"- Joey whispered and took a deep breath.

- "I’m not gonna let that guy hurt you again"- Frank murmured as he kneeled by the bed and kissed her temple sweetly- "Never, I’m not gonna let him make you cry or break your heart again, ok?"

Frank’s words were so full of honesty and emotion, even his voice shook. Tears fell from his eyes, and Joey stared at him in shock. He cared that much for her. It was shocking to realize how much they all cared for her.

- "Thank you, Frank"- he smiled

- "Hey, whatever you need"- he smiled shyly- "Now make room"- the girl and Mikey moved, as Frank crawled on the bed next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head as Mikey laid at the other side of her, still cuddling her.

Gerard stared at the scene and wondered how they could just do that, it was what he wanted to do, but he could not move from where he was standing.

- "Wanna watch a movie?"- Ray grabbed the remote control- "Let’s see what we can find"- he knew Pride and Prejudice wasn’t right for the moment, so he tried to find the most random movie he could in pay per view. Die Hard was the chosen one. He and Gerard laid on the bed with the others and didn’t say another word. The girl wanted to be alone, but she knew they weren’t going to let her. It felt good in a way, knowing they cared about her and wanted to be with her at that dark moment.

Matthew was crying, sitting on his bed. He didn’t seem to be able to stop the tears from falling. He held the phone and dialed over and over again. It was off. The wedding was off. His whole life was off at that point. He had made the biggest mistake, and now he knew he couldn’t fix it. But he had to. He wanted to.

- "Yami, please, I’m so sorry"- he talked with her voicemail- "I need you to forgive me, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t want to, it was a mistake"- the call ended, he dialed again- "Yami, I can’t live without you, I can’t, I swear, please, I’m so sorry, I’d do anything you want, anything, but please, please"- the call ended, he dialed again- "Please… Joey, I love you so much, I need you so much, I..."

- "Honey"- his mother whispered as she walked into his room and found him weeping on the phone.

- "She left me, mom"- he whispered and felt her arms around him- "She broke up with me"- he couldn’t say another word ‘cos the tears, and the sobbing didn’t let him talk. His mother kissed his temple and hugged him tightly.

- "You are gonna fix this, baby. It’s gonna be ok."

- "How?"- he managed to murmur.

- "She loves you so much, she is going to forgive you. I know she will."

- "I hurt her mom. She doesn’t deserve this... I don’t deserve her… she is an angel, and I ruined it"- Matthew couldn’t say another word. He just hid his head on his mother’s neck and cried.

Taglist

@all-tings-diego @worryd0ll

[sundaysundaes]

Remember Me

Mark Lee X Reader X Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) | Smut, Fluff, Angst | 14k | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

CHAPTER 2 OF 2. Part 1 is here.

Summary: “The mysterious cuts and bruises that suddenly appear are actually injuries that your soulmate has obtained, and you share the same marks on your skin.” For Donghyuck and Mark, it's not just an old saying, it's not merely a concept, it's the truth. But as they grow older in a world where everyone puts their faith in the marks that attach their hearts to their soulmates, they have to stop believing.

Notes: This used to be an EXO Fanfic of mine called Remember Me but I want to share this story with my NCT family as well, so I rewrote several things and added more scenes to fit Mark and Haechan’s personalities better.

10

It takes Lee Donghyuck approximately ten times to ask Mark Lee to join their soccer game before he realizes that maybe Mark just really hates playing soccer. Or just doing sports in general, for that matter.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to!” Mark shouts, cheeks reddening in anger. Donghyuck holds up both hands in the air, backing away. Mark is twenty-one years-old while Donghyuck is a year younger. Since Mark needed to be treated at the facility for his injuries back when he was in high school, he had to repeat another year and so he registered late in his new university in Seoul. Seeing how he’s a freshman like him with no friend other than Zhong Chenle in college, Donghyuck thinks they should get along better. Donghyuck has always been friendly and nice to anyone around him—Yukhei would agree on this straight away—but sadly, not everyone replies to him in the same way.

“Okay, okay,” Donghyuck says, laughing softly at Mark’s little burst of anger. “Chill, man. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought that maybe you wanted to play because, you know, you kept looking at us—”

“I wasn’t looking,” Mark harshly responds, tearing his gaze away from the other boy to glance at the girl who owns his heart since forever. “Well, I wasn’t actually looking at you anyway.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at Mark’s last line that’s almost too quiet to hear. He’s pretty sure that Mark kept stealing glances at the field a moment earlier, so if it weren’t because of Donghyuck and Yukhei playing soccer with their upperclassmen, who was he staring at?

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says anyway, and he means it even when his tone sounds too playful. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you can just come over, okay?”

“I don’t do soccer,” Mark bitterly responds as he picks up his book back and places it on his lap. “Now can you leave me alone, please? I want to read in silence.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose at his attitude but decides to be the better man. “Alright,” he says, giving him the space he needs. “My name’s Lee Donghyuck, by the way. Nice to meet you, Grumpy Pants!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin before he runs back to the field. Mark Lee is unapproachable, but that only makes him more interesting to Lee Donghyuck.

***

11

It takes eleven minutes after the whistle has been blown for Donghyuck to score his third goal that day and she cheers loudly with her hands in the air before she realizes that she’s supposed to stare at her crush secretly. She clears her throat and tries to calm her racing heart as she sits back on the bleachers. Her eyes are still following the boy with the number 66 on the back of his jersey and her heart warms when she sees how his fluffy brown hair flutters under the wind.

That boy’s name is Lee Donghyuck. He’s one year younger than she is and he’s probably the brightest, and the funniest person she has ever met. He’s a bit weird, though, because every time he talks to her, he always speaks like he has known her for his whole life. And he does look familiar somehow, but she can’t remember why. 

Last spring was the first time she met him. She was looking around the campus’ ground, getting to know the environment better before she enrolled in the university by the next semester. And then a ball hit her on the head, making her tumble to the ground.

“Oh, shit! Sorry! Are you okay?” A boy ran to her with a familiar smile and beautiful sun-kissed skin that glistened slightly with sweat. He helped her stand on her own feet and kept apologizing for two times more until he saw her face and began to shout her name over and over again, voice getting louder each time. 

“Holy shit, it’s really you! I can’t believe this!” Without permission, he suddenly leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he laughed wholeheartedly. “Jesus Christ, Noona, it’s been years!” He was crushing her with his hug and she felt strange, afraid even. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you again! I’ve been looking for you every—”

Out of fear and discomfort, she hastily pushed him away. “D-don’t touch me!” she said, backing away and a wounded look fell upon his face. 

“N-noona, it’s me,” he said, attempting to calm her down by reaching out a hand. “It’s me, Donghyuck. We used to play together, remember? At the beach? In Jeju?”

Frowning was her response and nothing more, not remembering his identity at all and that made her sad because that boy seemed like he was really hoping for her to remember him. “I’m—I’m sorry but I don’t know you,” she said and the boy seemed heartbroken for a few seconds before he shook his head and smiled brightly once more.

“Oh wow, then this must’ve been super awkward.” He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head before he offered her his hand. She could tell he was shaken up by it but he didn’t make it seem obvious. “I’m Lee Donghyuck. I’m sorry for being so weird. You just remind me so much of my old friend. But I got your name right, didn’t I?”

She nodded her head once, shaking his hand. “How do you know my name?”

“Let’s just say I’m a bit psychic,” Donghyuck replied, grinning boyishly and something stirred in her heart. She felt like she knew him but at the same time, she didn’t. It was weird but Donghyuck never worried about such a matter. He kept on talking to her, sporting his cheery grins and beautiful eye-smile as he did and his presence somehow filled the pang that had been so hollow in her heart. 

“Yo, Sleepyhead!” Wong Yukhei calls as he scurries over to her side. He’s breathing hard, beads of sweat forming and rolling down his temple. The man is 183cm tall with silky dark brown hair and a voice deeper than any man she’s ever known. “What’cha doin’, girl? Been here long?”

“Hey, Yukhei,” she greets with a smile, offering him her canned orange juice and Yukhei drinks it in one gulp without hesitation. “Just hanging out. Did you guys win?” she asks, trying to pretend like she wasn’t paying attention to the game (which is somewhat true because she only paid attention to Donghyuck).

“Oh, come on, we all know you were watching the game,” Yukhei says as he flops down next to her seat. “Or were you watching me?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Wong Yukhei is always blatant with his flirting but nobody ever takes him seriously. It’s common knowledge that Yukhei never wants to have a relationship with anyone other than his Soulmate. People tend to date anyone they want while they wait for their Soulmates to appear but Yukhei is a different case. Yukhei only wants the girl who owns the same scar as he has on his wrist.

“Hey, just a friendly advice here,” Yukhei says, “I know you really really really like Hyuck but fucking hell, woman, do you really need to stare at him all day long with that dopey, lovesick look on your face?”

“Hey!” She hisses, slapping his back. “Shut up, okay? And I wasn’t staring at him. I was watching the game.”

“Sureeee,” Yukhei slurs the last syllable. “Then what’s the score? No peeking at the scoreboard.”

She can’t answer. Seeing how Yukhei keeps on mocking her, she eventually sighs and buries her face in her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“So obvious. Too obvious, even.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“Honey, I think even my grandma knows you have a crush on him.”

“Oh my God,” she sobs to her hands and when she lifts her face, her cheeks are in flame. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t date him anyway, Not until I’m sure that he’s my Soulmate.”

Yukhei furrows his brows. “I didn’t know you were like me.”

“I just think it’s a safer option, you know?” She utters, huffing to the air. “Why would you waste your time dating someone who’s not your Soulmate when you know it’s not gonna work out in the end? Better choose the one so you won’t hurt anyone.”

Yukhei nods proudly and pats her head. “I feel you, Sister. I feel you.”

“Shut up, you’re gross,” she says, punching Yukhei playfully by his shoulder but the said man groans loudly and dramatically acts like she just struck his arm with a javelin. Yukhei stands up and barks, “Sure, when it’s Wong Yukhei, you go around and punch him like a sag of potatoes but when it’s Lee Donghyuck, you worship him like a freaking Greek God! Real fair, Sweetheart, real fair!” Then he throws a flying kiss toward her direction before she has the chance to actually kill Wong Yukhei. She just hopes that Donghyuck didn’t hear him.

She sits back on the bleachers, her heart thumping loudly but Donghyuck never stares back. He’s always like that when he’s too focused on his game. It’s part of his charm, really. 

It’s only Mark Lee who does, staring at her from across the field. He’s a fellow freshman she once met at the library, helping her with finding her books. She always thinks he looks kind of familiar as well but she doesn’t know why. Perhaps some kind of a déjà vu?

She didn’t see him sitting there before (her eyes were too focused on Donghyuck, like always) and Mark never really goes out of his class at break times anyway. He used to always spend his days in the library, working there and reading suspense or science-fiction novels even when he’s read them a thousand times already. This is the first time she’s ever seen him out on the field. Perhaps he’s watching the game too?

She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Hey, library guy!” she mouths, grinning but Mark never mirrors her smile in the same way. He always seems sad, she notices, like he’s trying to achieve something but something forbids him from doing so. She wonders what he craves so badly that he has to force himself away from enjoying his life like he’s supposed to. 

***

12

It’s twelve past twelve on a Sunday afternoon when Zhong Chenle passes a watermelon to Mark’s lap and speaks, “Bro, I know it’s not my business but your ex-girlfriend has a huge crush on that kid Lee Donghyuck.”

With a knife in his hand, ready to slice the watermelon into small pieces, Mark freezes and looks at Chenle with heavy pressure in his eyes.

“Whoa, dude!” Chenle immediately backs away, gulping when he realizes he just made Mark upset when the man is holding a knife in his hand. “Be careful with that shit, okay? You look like you’re about to kill someone!”

“Not someone, just you,” Mark replies, looking away and begins to slice the fruit. 

Chenle takes his seat back with more caution in his steps, just in case. “Look, Mark, I don’t want to make you mad.”

“A bit too late for that,” Mark replies, jabbing the knife into the fruit, and Chenle almost shrieks, fidgeting on his seat. The Chinese boy winces a little as he prepares to receive a strike from his friend but it never came. Instead, his friend throws him a small smile and Chenle knows Mark’s been kidding around. Chenle can never understand his sense of humor.

“You have a terrible sense of humor, has anyone ever told you that?” He calms his heart down. “You’re still not over her, huh?” Chenle asks, receiving a freshly cut watermelon from the slightly shorter guy. Mark doesn’t answer him and instead, he grabs his own piece of watermelon and strolls over to lounge on the couch. The sun is blazing outside, sitting on its throne, and burns everything considering it’s the middle of summer and even with this thin layer of clothes he’s wearing, Mark just can’t stop sweating. 

“Dude?” Chenle calls, following him to the couch, and steals a glance at him. Mark is just there, sitting and staring at the fruit without doing anything much other than breathing. “Hello? Earth to Mark, you alright there, buddy?”

Mark slowly moves his gaze back at him and for the first time in forever, he pulls on a gentle, but heartbreaking smile. “I would’ve gotten over her if I could but it’s hard.”

Chenle hums quietly. “You guys loved each other that much, huh?”

“Loved?” Mark chuckles, proffering his piece of watermelon to his friend’s hand in case Chenle wants more. He does. “It wasn’t just love. She was my everything.” The Chinese boy snorts at that but he can actually sense the truth behind Mark’s words, which is why Chenle chooses to stay mute. “I was about to propose to her, you know?” Mark confesses, crestfallen. “We were nothing but stupid brats going on about love and crappy things like that and I had this stupid ring with me that I wanted to give her. I was about to make a promise to be with her forever. I didn’t care whether she was my Soulmate or not. I didn’t care if we were too young to be engaged. I just loved her so much—I still do but…”

But she forgot about you, Chenle wants to say but he decides to keep himself in silence. While Mark was hurting physically during that period after the accident, she was losing her mind. She had recurring nightmares and she lost almost every part of her memories. She lost her childhood, she lost her friends, and most of all, she lost him. She couldn’t see Mark. He never existed in her world. Her loss of memories had helped her to recover quicker than him and her parents also made her go to many therapy sessions in her last few months at the hospital. She’s now healthy and happy and Mark is grateful for that but, of course, a huge part of him died with her that night before the first snow fell upon their smiles.

Chenle forms a question after a while. “Why don’t you try and approach her again, then? You know, start over. Maybe she could fall in love with you again.”

Mark absentmindedly touches the skin around his nape. “It’s better this way,” he says, smiling weakly to the ground. “She’s happier without me in her life.”

“But you’re hurting,” Chenle counters. “And I’m not sure you’re gonna get better tomorrow if you keep being like this.”

“You’re right, I’m never gonna get better.” Mark laughs softly. “I’m gonna remember this forever and I’m gonna live through this every day. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I remember is how I agreed to go with her to town that night. If I hadn’t gone to her grandmother’s place, if I hadn’t gone with her outside—”

Chenle shakes his head. “You didn’t know what would happen—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Mark shouts breathlessly, his hand going over his heart. “It happened and I lost her. That’s it, Chenle. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Chenle looks conflicted and hesitant for a few seconds before he reaches out and pats Mark on the shoulder. “Everything will get better,” he says, trying to spread joy to his friend. “You’ll forget her when you meet your Soulmate. Try to live your life like me, buddy. No good will come from worrying over things that have been done.”

Mark returns his smile but his eyes stay cold.

His dreams always consist of her smile and how her eyes once turned crescents when she whispered, “I love you too, Mark Lee.” His dreams always reel in the way she held him close that night, how she wanted to make him feel happy, how she wanted to be with him, how much she missed and loved him.

It never happens in real life anymore. Mark Lee never existed in her life that way. And that is why Mark stops waking up with a smile on his face.

“Chenle,” Mark starts, “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Who, Donghyuck? Yeah, he’s cool. Gets pretty whiny and annoying most of the times, but—”

“There’s something I want you to tell him.”

“O… kay…” Chenle is startled by the sudden gravitas in his tone. “What is it?”

“She believes in Soulmates,” Mark says, smiling to himself and somehow Chenle can see the disappointment and frustration in his eyes. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. So if he doesn’t have the same scar, it’s better for him to just stay away since he’ll end up hurting them both in the future.”

Chenle analyzes his friend’s expression but he’s still left clueless. “And you’re okay if he turns out to be the one for her?”

Mark glances at him, smiling while his eyes show nothing but a pang of guilt and pain. “At this point, Chenle,” he murmurs, “I actually wish for it to happen.”

***

13

“So she believes in Soulmates too, huh?” Donghyuck asks, his shoulders are slumped forward in disappointment. It’s Friday the 13th and while everyone is feeling spooked out over the infamous urban legend, Donghyuck is feeling upset over an entirely different reason. “Damn it!”

Yukhei snorts. “Dude, everyone believes in Soulmates; it’s only you who don’t. It’s basically, like, written in the law or something.” When Donghyuck shoots him a look, Yukhei just huffs. “All I’m saying is it’s not just a myth, dude. This shit happens.”

Donghyuck knows that but he’s really interested in her—well, he’s always been interested in her, since back then when they were young even. Donghyuck didn’t think he’d be able to meet her again but well, luck is apparently on his side. Not that much, though, because she forgot about what they used to have. Donghyuck learned along the way that she’d gotten into an accident in high school and that was how she lost her memories. He understands the situation and he’s willing to restart everything again because even after all this time, Donghyuck still likes her. And for these past few months, Donghyuck has become so close to her once again and it’s like they’re back to that time where they used to play together on the beach with sands under their feet. She still smiles and gazes at him in the way she did back then and Donghyuck thinks her beauty lasts for eternity.

She even said one time, as he was trying to catch his breath after his soccer practice, that he reminded her of the sun, the way he shone so brightly when he played on the field, how his every movement and smile drew attention from the crowd.

“You should be called Haechan,” she said sheepishly, bumping her shoulder against his in a playful manner. “I think it fits you more. What do you think?”

His heart was racing for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t believe that even when she had lost her memories, she still repeated the same thing in the exact same way. So Donghyuck swallowed hard, trying his best to appear nonchalant, and said, “I think that’s the stupidest pet name someone has ever given to me, but it’s okay. You can call me that.”

It would be great if they could be something more. But well, if she believes in Soulmate and if Donghyuck turns out to not be the one she’s waiting for then they probably shouldn’t start anything to begin with.

“This whole Soulmate thing sucks balls!” Donghyuck whines, kicking a pebble stone to the side of the street as he walks next to his tall friend on the sidewalk. “I really want to try and be with her, you know? I didn’t try anything back then because we were too young to understand our feelings but now we’re older and I really, really like her but God-fucking-dammit, Yukhei, what if I’m not her Soulmate? What if she won’t accept me?”

Yukhei pats his friend on the back. “Well, you still have your chance, Hyuck. Maybe someday, she’ll fall and bruise her knees or something and you’ll get the same scar—her scar. Who knows, right? Maybe you are her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck doesn’t put a lot of wish on that. He’s never much of a believer anyway. “She doesn’t seem to have scars now, though,” he says, “So how can we tell who her Soulmate is?”

“But you don’t have scars too, do you?”

“Actually, I—”

“Donghyuck-Hyung!” A skinny boy with fluffy blond hair, calls from somewhere behind him. Donghyuck turns around and grins when he sees the boy approaching him. “Hey, asswipe! What’s up?”

“I told you not to call me that.” But Chenle reciprocated by giving him his personal high five. After a quick chatter, Chenle drops his smile and displays a solemn look on his face. “Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

***

14

It’s on the next day, June 14th, when Donghyuck literally steals Yukhei’s key (he thinks Yukhei wouldn’t mind anyway) and drives his motorcycle for less than a mile, heading south. Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. Since he heard what Chenle told him yesterday, Donghyuck has been so anxious. He needs to see her now and he needs to see her fast.

That afternoon isn’t actually chilly, but Donghyuck brings his black leather jacket with him—just for luck. He wears a thin white shirt underneath it and a black full covered helmet on his head. He’s brought another helmet with him, not caring about the possibility of her rejecting his proposal of an impromptu date. Donghyuck has always been that confident.

Getting the address of her house isn’t actually easy, but it’s not the hardest question in the world either. When he stops in front of her house, his wristwatch says it’s 02.14 p.m. He still has enough time to go watch a movie with her and have dinner together—if she agrees to go on a date with him in the first place. 

Jumping out from his—or rather, Yukhei’s—motorcycle, Donghyuck takes off his helmet and ruffles his short hair, pushing back his fringe with his lean fingers. He doesn’t say it often but he thinks he looks a bit hotter when his forehead shows and if he’s going to charm this girl off her feet, he needs all the luck he can get. And that is why he’s putting his RayBan sunglasses on too.

He picks up his phone and dials her numbers. She answers on the second ring and it’s cute that her “Hello?” sounds more like a panic shout rather than a friendly greeting. “Hey, baby,” Donghyuck jokes with a grin, but it makes her gasp. He hears her stutter out his name in return. “Can you go out to your balcony for me?”

“W-why?” she asks, a bit breathlessly for some reason. Donghyuck secretly hopes his voice is the reason behind it. He likes to think he has that effect on her, because sometimes, when she wears her floral blue shirt combined with her white skirt, she has that same effect on him as well. That feeling of needing to breathe when you’re already breathing. It’s weird but he likes it.

“Just do it, please?” he begs, even displaying his puppy eyes though he knows she won’t be able to see them.

“Umm... O-okay then…” 

A moment later, she appears on her veranda, wearing a short, casual navy blue summer dress with a white collar that looks like a sailor’s. Her hair is untied, flowing over her shoulders and Donghyuck can already tell that she’s about to tuck some strands of her hair behind her ears. He always loves it when she does that. He’ll love it even more if one day she gives him the chance to do it for her.

“Umm, I’m already out,” she nervously mumbles out, pushing her locks to the back of her ear. Her phone is strapped to her ear and she examines her surrounding until her eyes land on the man who’s leaning on a (stolen) bike.

“Hey,” Donghyuck smiles that one smile he knows could drive women crazy. He adds this thing with his eyebrows just in case she’s not affected by his smirk. “So, I woke up this morning and I thought of you. Wanna go out on a date with me?”

She gapes, her cellphone almost slides down from her hand. “I-I’m—” Even Donghyuck can see her blush from under there. “Donghyuck-ah, I—”

“How many times should I tell you?” Donghyuck sighs, playfully sending her a glare. “Just call me by that name you gave me.”

“D-didn’t you say it was stupid?”

“It’s stupid because it makes me feel special.” And he doesn’t lie, not in the slightest. “You make me feel special.”

Her face burns even more. “Look, I don’t think I can go—” She takes a look behind her, worriedly glancing to her room. “I’m supposed to stay in my room and—”

“Have you ever broken any rules before?” Donghyuck asks and if she hadn’t lost her memories, she’d say yes and tell him that that’s the exact reason why she got into that accident. But this new version of her only gnawed at her lip worriedly. “Come on, Noona. You don’t need to tell your parents.” He’s extremely persuasive, especially with that signature eyebrow-raise of his with his eyes twinkling mischievously after he took off his sunglasses. “Just come with me. I’ll take you back home before they even know you’re gone.”

It’s tempting. Donghyuck’s offers are always tempting and he looks really good in that leather jacket while sporting his messy pushed-back hair. She once thought Donghyuck looked the best wearing his soccer jersey on the field because he appeared so young and boyish that way. But this. This exact style. He reeks of masculinity and pure sex—

“Are you coming?” Donghyuck snaps her away from her reverie. She continues nibbling on her lip in anxiety, looking back again before she glances at the boy once more. “Okay, yes,” she finally says and Donghyuck tries not to jump and stab the air in victory. “I can’t go down from the stairs, though. My father’s in the living room.”

“Well then, jump,” he simply says, walking closer until he stands just below her balcony and tries to be as quiet as possible as he strolls through the bushes. “Come on, Noona. Jump. I’ll catch you.”

“T-there’s no way I can do that!” Her cheeks spark bright red. “I’m wearing a dress!”

“Well then, I’ll close my eyes.” He spreads his arms wide to catch her and simply closes his eyes like he said. “See?”

“How are you planning to catch me when you can’t even see me?!” She protests and Donghyuck wants to laugh because her shrieking voice is so pleasantly cute.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, opening his eyes again just to gaze straight into her eyes. “I won’t let you fall. I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Something in the tone he uses lights a spark in her chest. “O-of course.”

“Then trust me.” Donghyuck smiles again and shuts his eyes closed. “Now jump.”

She still hesitates, thinking this over and over again with her hand pressed nervously against her chest. Finally, she decides to just get this over with. “I’m—I’m a bit heavy, though.”

“You’re not heavy, you’re pretty,” Donghyuck smoothly says and on any other occasion, she would have laughed because that’s probably the worst line to say at the moment. “Now come on. Jump.”

“But Haechannie—”

“Jump!”

And she does. With a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins, she jumps in her sailor dress with only her phone being held in her hand. She’s about to yelp but the fall is too fast that it ends before she can scream. True enough, Donghyuck manages to catch her with his arms and she falls with a small ‘oof’ to his chest. 

“Hello Kitty panties?” Donghyuck teases, his spine being pressed against the ground and although it does hurt a little, everything is worth it since she is now lying on top of him. “Really, darling?”

She gapes, blushing madly, and lands a small slap on his chest to cover her embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t look!” She makes too much rustling noises over the fuss, while Donghyuck tries to contain his laughter. He would’ve let her hit him again if he didn’t hear someone’s footsteps closing on them.

Her father is now walking through the front door. 

Donghyuck does the most brilliant thing to do at the moment—according to him anyway—which is to roll to his side and hide both of their bodies behind the bushes. She ends up lying on the ground with Donghyuck’s body covering her. He holds her head close to his chest so she won’t knock herself on the ground. Her ear is pressed against his heart and she cannot focus when Donghyuck pulls her closer and warns her with a whisper, “Be quiet...” 

Her father doesn’t take a detailed look around the place, probably wondering whether it was just the neighbor’s cat doing noisy things as always. He ends up leaving after picking up the newspaper that he forgets to retrieve in the morning.

When the sound of the front door being closed reaches their ears, they both let out a relieved sigh. “Holy shit, I thought I was about to die,” Donghyuck says, laughing when he sees her holding back her smile. “Your hair’s a mess.” He reaches out a hand and fixes her fringe and that’s when she realizes that she’s in such proximity to his face and she’s literally lying underneath him.

She immediately pulls away and stands up properly before she slightly bows with her face blazing hot. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you like that—”

“Hey, relax,” Donghyuck says, cleaning the dirt off his ripped jeans as he stands up as well. “It was my fault. And I was enjoying every second of it anyway so...” He grins that familiar boyish smile of his and although she pouts and pushes him playfully by the shoulder, inside her thumping heart, she feels alive.

“I can’t believe you saw my panties,” she mutters, fixing her hair as her cheeks continue to burn. “So embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Her face is about to explode. “You promised you’d close your eyes!”

“I didn’t.” Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrow once in a teasing manner. “I only promised you I’d catch you. And I did, right? I didn’t let you fall.”

She looks away, trying her best to calm her racing heart. “Y-yes. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Now, come on,” Donghyuck says, taking her hand without permission (not that she’d mind) and guides her to his—Yukhei’s—ride. “I’m thinking of relishing our childhood memories and—” he stops when he sees her frowning and he looks flustered because, “God, I’m so stupid. Of course you wouldn’t remember.” His voice is quiet before he gets a grip of himself and clears his throat. “What I want to say is, there are two choices you can choose: First, it’s a safe option where we go out to the movies, choose whatever it is that’s lame enough so you’ll get bored and start talking to me during the play—hey, stop laughing!” Donghyuck pokes her on the cheek when she giggles at his words. “And then we’ll get dinner afterward before I take you home. Or second, and this is the more daring one, we go to the nearest beach and see whatever the hell that’s going to happen there and just let God decides where we go next.” He gives her another spare of his helmet. “So what do you wanna do?”

She thinks about it for a few seconds, just to build the hype, before she says, “I’ll go with the second option.”

“Well, I am hurt,” Donghyuck mutters. “You just thought talking to me during the movie would be boring, didn’t you? You’ve underestimated my interpersonal skills, woman.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, grinning as she sits behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. “I’m just worried that you’re gonna order pizza for dinner and I don’t think that’s gonna be romantic.”

“Ah, so you want our situation to be romantic, do you?” Donghyuck teases, her plan backfires. “I knew you’ve always had the hots for me.”

Her jaw hangs low on her blushing face. “That’s not what I—” And her words end up with a scream when Donghyuck suddenly drives off. She winds her arms tighter around his waist and Donghyuck laughs because she’s adorable in the way he finds to be the cutest form possible.

To her, this is the first date she’s ever experienced. She has never been with anyone before him and she likes Donghyuck so much because he seems so carefree and fun, while on the other side, dangerous and unpredictable. He’s a bit four-dimensional and she wants to know what’s hidden more under those multilayer personalities of his. But what attracts her the most is how she feels familiar and safe in his presence. She feels like she can trust him as if she’s known him for her whole life.

Had the accident never happened, she would’ve noticed how different Donghyuck is if being compared with her past boyfriend, Mark Lee. While Donghyuck is impulsive and daring, Mark has always been the cautious one. Mark is the guy who pays attention to every little thing that happens to her—even when she doesn’t realize it herself. While Donghyuck, on the other hand, is that person who desires simplicity. The boy who says, “I want you” instead of “I need you”. And that’s entirely different than how Mark, the boy who offers commitment and loyalty, had promised her once.

But memory is just a memory. Donghyuck used to live in the shadows of her mind, but now he’s alive and there’s no way he’s going to let her go for the second time.

It’s time for Mark to stay in the darkness and just let go of what he used to have.

This time, the table has turned.

***

15

Mark Lee sighs for the fifteenth time that day because his mother keeps on pestering him to go back to his daily therapy session but he’s not having any of it. Not today. He’s already tired of having to go to the doctor every day only to hear the line, “There hasn’t been many changes but don’t worry, we’ll get you better soon, Mark,” or maybe in some better days like yesterday, he got a “Good news, Mark! We can start the surgery by the end of the week! That is, of course, if you’re willing to follow the procedures and healthy enough to undergo the surgery.” 

Mark is scared to his bones but he doesn’t tell anyone that. Being consumed with fear isn’t something he wants to be proud of and he knows that it won’t do anything other than making people worry about him more. He’s had enough of that. So he just smiles and tries to get better for his mother.

Not today, though. Today, he needs to let go.

This is why tonight, he puts on his sweater and strolls out of his house without telling anyone. He rarely breaks any rules but today, he just wants to get out and breathe the outside air as much as he wants to. He takes a deep breath and with trembles in his fingers, he reaches out for his brother’s bicycle. The memory of the accident is still clear in his head but he’s already promised himself he’d move on. And this is him, moving on.

He rides the bicycle slowly, still remembering to take care of his condition. He keeps pedaling until he reaches her new address. They used to live next to each other, but after the accident that happened with Mark, her family thought that it’d be better if they stay as far as possible from each other. But here he is now, standing in front of her gate with an anxious heart and shaky fingers, just like how it was when he picked her up for their first date.

Mark weakly smiles to himself. “Just say your goodbye and leave, Mark. Just do that and move on.”

He presses the doorbell and waits.

A moment later, she comes out wearing a knitted sweater Mark once gave her for their second anniversary and that sight of her made him feel like the earth is sinking below him. Why is she wearing that? He screams in his mind, as his eyes grow wide. As far as Mark knew, her parents tried to keep every little bit of Mark away from her, to keep her safe just in case it’d bring something painful to her shattered memories. Her mother probably mistook it for her own sweater and that was why she didn’t throw it away.

“I’ll call you later, okay, Haechannie?” she says, giggling to her cellphone as she walks toward the fence that separates her from him. “I know. Of course, I’ll brush my teeth. I’m not you.” She laughs quietly, muttering ‘one sec’ to Mark as she tries to drag open the gate. “Okay, hey, I really need to go. Someone’s here.” 

Mark tries to stop the wounded look from appearing on his face. Someone, Mark thinks, smiling bitterly. She doesn’t even know my name.

“I’ll call you—” Then she laughs again, her cheeks getting red and Mark secretly hopes that it’s because of the cold, and not over Donghyuck’s words from the other side of the line. “Yes, okay, good night. I’ll see you later, Haechannie. Bye.” Then she shuts her phone and looks at Mark apologetically. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend just kept on babbling,” she explains, chuckling in embarrassment. “Hi, is there anything I can help you with?”

Her laughter still sounds as airy and adorable in his ears and Mark tries to erase the sickening feeling in his gut after knowing that he’s no longer the reason behind her laughter.

“Hi, uhh…” Mark rubs his nape, clearing his throat. “You probably don’t remember me, but umm—we’ve met at the library? I helped you with your books.”

She frowns for a few seconds before her eyes light up. “Ah!” She exclaims, smiling widely at him. “You’re the library guy! Hi, yes, of course, I remember you.”

Library guy. He can’t take it anymore. “It’s Mark,” he murmurs.

She blinks. “What?”

“My name,” he says, louder this time. His fingers are curling into fists on the sides of his jeans. “My name is Mark Lee.”

“Oh,” she says, throwing another heartwarming smile as she offers him her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mark Lee.” The way she says his name still feels natural to his ears, which only makes him suffer harder. She tells him her name, wanting to give him a firm handshake.

“I already know your name,” Mark says, and somehow his tone seems cold. She drops her hand with a surprised look on her face. Mark wonders whether she sees the dejected look he displays on his face because her smile vanishes completely and she seems utterly heartbroken. To her, Mark looks exactly like Donghyuck used to stare at her sometimes—that look when someone wishes to be remembered. She doesn’t know what happened in the past but she knows she’s hurting him somehow.

“I’m sorry,” she says, almost in a whisper. “I have… I have a bad memory so… If we’ve met before and I can’t remember you, I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Mark wants to slap himself on the face for being so selfish. He just hurt her again. She doesn’t even know him and he just hurt her again. “No, it’s not that,” Mark hurriedly explains with a reassuring smile. “I know you because I once saw you writing down your name when you borrowed the book. I work at the library, remember?”

She blinks twice before she lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh... Right…” she utters, smiling to herself. “Well, I… Thanks for helping me out back then.”

She looks just as beautiful as she used to when she snuggled up against him on the couch. Mark brings his hands into the pocket of his jeans so he won’t accidentally stroke her cheek or lace their fingers together. “No problem.”

“So, what’s up?” she chirps and Mark realizes he needs to find a better excuse than this is probably the last time I can see you and that’s why I want to say goodbye properly.

“It’s umm…” It’s painful for him having to lie straight to her face like this. He never once lied in front of her when they were together but now that they’re living separate lives with no connections to each other, it feels like that’s what he’s been doing all the time. Just lying, forcing himself to smile,  distancing himself from everyone, and pushing himself to say her name effortlessly even when the pain in his chest is overwhelming. “Nothing important, really,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I just came here to remind you that you need to return the book by tomorrow.”

“What? Oh!” She gasps, placing a hand over her mouth. “You’re right! Oh God, I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”

Mark only smiles back and his eyes are soft and gentle. “No problem. It’s my job anyway.”

She laughs a bit. “Such a hardworking young man. Next time you could just call me, you know? You don’t have to come over to my house. It’s freezing.” The way she talks is always fascinating to see and hear. Her smile never leaves her face and her hands are constantly moving animatedly every time she opens her mouth. Mark can actually feel his heart racing at the sight of her. “Oh, look at that.” She announces, glancing at Mark’s hands that are starting to go red from the cold. “You’re not wearing any gloves. Wait for a sec, will you? I’ll get you some!” And she hurries back into her house before he can stop her.

When she comes out a moment later, she carries a pair of her gloves (Mark remembers well the salmon pink color and the white stripes at the end of it) and her cheeks glow in a darker shade of red when she says, “These are mine but they’re a couple of sizes bigger on me so I hope they’ll fit.” She tucks his hands inside the gloves exactly like that time before Mark pushed her against the fence and poured his feelings against her lips. When she’s finished, she also asks, “There. Better?”

Mark can’t stop himself from feeling hurt. It’s like his heart is being ripped apart and he can’t do anything to prevent it. Before he knows it, his eyes grow hot and his vision starts to blur. He doesn’t let his tears fall though. He quickly covers it with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he says and she smiles back, squeezing Mark’s hand in a friendly way before she lets go.

“You’re welcome,” she cheerfully says. “By the way, Happy Christmas Eve.”

Mark smiles while his heart is breaking. If he closes his eyes right now, will the earth swallow him whole?

“So, Mark Lee,” she begins, leaning her back to the fence. “Is there anything else you want to remind me of? Did I forget to pay for the book or something?”

There’s a lot of things he wants to remind her about. The warmth of his hand, the sound of his voice when he confessed to her, the taste of their first kiss, everything. But every little joyful memory he has of her will only inflict pain on her behalf so he holds himself back. Mark laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re okay,” he says, staring at her with a gentle smile constantly displayed on his lips. 

After a while, she playfully raises an eyebrow in question. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

Mark doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but at that moment, he reaches out his hand and pushes her bangs out of her eyes, just like how he used to do back then. She freezes on her feet, her eyes growing wide, her breathing stalls.

“I’m—” Mark splutters. “I’m sorry, I just—” He panics, his hand going over his chest, feeling his heart thumping fast and it begins to hurt—more than anything he can ever bear. “I’m so sorry.” And he turns around, carrying his bicycle with him before he pedals away through the night. His heart is screaming with more pain for the distance he puts between them.

She stands there on the ground with parted lips. Her eyes are fixed on Mark’s back as he drives away and then suddenly, a tear slips out from the corner of her eye.

“Oh…” She falls to her knees, hugging herself with her arms as she cries and cries and cries harder over something she doesn’t even know what. She just feels so hurt, as if something is tearing every bit of her heart apart. She covers her mouth as she sobs louder. Breathing becomes hard, just as hard as she tries to explain why is she feeling like this. Why does she feel like someone is leaving her? Someone very important, just like a piece of her soul. What is happening?

“Honey!” Her mother comes out with shock written on her face and cradles her into her arms. “Darling, what happened?”

But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what to say. She just feels like dying. She just feels like she can’t breathe.

It’s as if a promise had just been broken and there’s nothing left of it to reminisce.

Mark stops and jumps off his bike the second he makes a turn a few meters away from her house. His hand is curling against the front of his shirt while the other one is holding him up from not lying flatly on the ground. He’s on his knees and he coughs to the cold night, gasping as if he was on the edge of losing his life. Her name is on the tip of his tongue and everything feels like knives, piercing through his skin.

He was so close. For a moment there, Mark saw her looking at him like she remembered him. She’s not supposed to remember him.

It hurts and Mark can’t fight his tears back anymore. He cries.

***

16

Donghyuck is staring at the latest episode of his favorite drama on channel 16 with drowsy, half-lidded eyes as he places his head on top of his girlfriend’s lap. They were in Donghyuck’s dorm room, specifically on his single-sized bed and she’s there, stroking his hair softly because Yukhei is out playing basketball with the new Chinese student and that means they can have quality time together.

Dating Donghyuck has been easy and she is enjoying every second of it. Donghyuck, that peculiar human being, likes to impersonate people as his daily jokes and it has become quite of a habit. From his usual Michael Jackson impersonation to something way more extreme such as creating new personas for himself. 

It started a week ago when Donghyuck picked her up to campus wearing ripped, washed-out jeans, black boots, and a wifebeater underneath his black leather jacket. The weirdest thing was, he had a cigarette sticking on the side of his mouth but it wasn’t lit—Donghyuck never smoked anything in his entire life.

“’ Sup,” he said, lowering his voice to make it sound deeper after he spat to the ground in a manly way (based on his own opinion, of course).

“What on earth is happening to you?” She asked, staring at him bewilderedly from head-to-toe.

Donghyuck pretended to blow some smokes from his cigarette. “The hell are you talkin’ ‘bout, girl? I’m a gangster. This is what gangsters do. Now hop on my bike, you little shit.”

She just stared flatly at him. “I’m not gonna go anywhere with you talking to me like that.”

“But I’m a gangsta! Gangsters swear, sucker.” 

“And you think swearing is attractive?”

Donghyuck snickered, breaking out of his character. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I’m just trying on something new,” he explained, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles once. “You look very pretty today. Now, will you please go with me? We’re going to be late.”

“And you look ridiculous.”

“I know,” he chuckled and then he began to get into character again. “But I’m serious. Get on my fucking bike, bitch.”

She sighed but rode away with him anyway.

On the next day, he dressed up in a pair of baggy pants, a shirt with the words “Nerds for life” written upon it, eyeglasses that were too big for his little face, and sneakers that were way too white and way too clean.

“Good afternoon, my fellow specimen!” He saluted, holding a Star Wars graphic novel in his hands as he sat beside his girlfriend on the bleachers. He was supposed to get ready for another soccer game that was going to start in another half an hour, but here he was, dressing like a dork and bugging her like always.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re a nerd.”

“A nerd, I am not,” he said, imitating Yoda from the Star Wars franchise. “But a beauty, yes you are.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, I am not.”

“Will you stop it already?”

“Stop, I can not.”

“Shut up!” She was beginning to laugh when Donghyuck kept talking like that as he tried to kiss her. “No! Don’t kiss me! You’re gross!”

“I am Donghyuck Skywalker and you are my mate, Princess Leia!” He announced, suddenly standing on one of the seats and opened his arms widely above his head. “We shall roam the entire universe! Just us two, you and me, with your beauty shining brighter than the stars!” Then he jumped back down, placed his hands on his hips, and smirked as he spoke, “Now open up your hangar ‘cause my starfighter needs refueling—”

“HYUCK, OH MY GOD, JUST SHUT UP!”

That happened almost every day for at least an hour-long, but him dressing up like an idiot was enough to attract the entire campus and to make his girlfriend dying from either laughing too hard or drowning in secondhand embarrassment—the latter tends to happen more often. From being Hyuckcutio—the desperate lover from the medieval age (he wore a cape and had a rose between his teeth), Donghyucko Mucho—the Spanish guy who fell hard for his Rosalinda (he had a fake mustache on his face), to Donghyuck Dawson—the American dude whose heart still sailed for his Rose DeWitt Bukater even when the ship fucking sank. 

She found him to be amusing and it was really entertaining watching him work hard to impress her. But if she had to choose, the moment she loved the most would be when Donghyuck dressed up in a plain white tee, washed-out jeans, and a smile that was bright enough to make other people look at him in a daze. His brown hair wasn’t styled in any way, and it looked so fluffy with bangs falling over his eyes. 

He sat on the bleachers next to her and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hey, baby.”

His girlfriend smiled back, cheeks glowing in pink. “Who are you trying to be now?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Myself.”

“Hmm…” She hummed before she kissed his cheek. “I think…” I like this one the most. “You look ridiculous.”

Donghyuck laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he ruffled her hair. “I know.”

“Something weird happened to me yesterday,” she confesses, playing idly with Donghyuck’s dark strands as she hangs around on his bed. Donghyuck’s head on her lap is a comforting weight she tends to miss when she’s alone in her room. “There’s this guy who came to my house late in the evening and he looked familiar but I can’t place who he was in my mind.”

Donghyuck turns around and looks up at her. “Maybe he’s an old friend?”

“Maybe,” she sighs. “He kept on staring at me and when I asked him why, he kind of brushed my hair and I just cried.”

Donghyuck raises his right eyebrow. “You cried?”

She nods, looking worried and dispirited so Donghyuck lifts his head off her lap and pats her head. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, giving her a playful smile. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I don’t know what happened, it’s just—” She exhales heavily, lacing Donghyuck’s fingers with hers. “I suddenly felt so sad and there’s this pain aching in my chest. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey,” Donghyuck kisses her knuckles to soothe her down. “You’re okay. Nothing’s wrong with you. That guy was probably some sort of a voodoo believer or something and he tried to hypnotize you. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

She smiles, giving her boyfriend a flick on the nose. “Stupid. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure, it does!” Donghyuck swiftly pulls her by the leg and she falls to the bed with a giggle on her lips. Donghyuck climbs up her body, kissing her cheek before he grins at her.

“What?” she asks, her eyes have that teasing twinkle in them. “You look like you’re about to kiss me.”

“No, I don’t.” Donghyuck snorts. “What, just because I’m lying on top of my girlfriend with my face being this close, you think I want to kiss you? Such confidence you have.”

She retaliates with a playful shove against his shoulders and Donghyuck laughs before he pins both of her hands to the bed. He leans close and kisses her lips, gentle like usual but also has that fiery spark behind it. 

She tenderly smiles and lets him kiss her one more time before he sighs and trails his fingertips along the side of her face. “What now?” she asks, grinning teasingly.

Donghyuck’s playful smirk has vanished away from his face. “You know I love you, right?” he asks, his face serious as he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. This is actually the first time she hears him say those three words and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised. 

She parts her lips to speak. “Why are you suddenly—”

“I just thought you should know,” Donghyuck says, his eyes are deep with sincerity and adoration. “I’ve actually been in love with you for a while. I guess I’ve even loved you from back when we were kids.” He chuckles quietly to himself when he sees her frowning. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” He twirls a strand of her hair around his finger. “Back then when I hit you with my ball and you just stared at me with that cute look on your face? You don’t remember that?”

“So that spring wasn’t the first time you hit my head with a ball?” she gives him a look and Donghyuck laughs before he kisses the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I guess I have the knack in running to damsels in distress and hitting them on the head with my ball.”

“Yeah, with you being the cause of their distress.”

Donghyuck pinches her cheek until she bursts out laughing. He rolls to his back and brings her forward to lie on top of him. She balances herself by putting her hands on his chest and Donghyuck tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do you love me?” he asks, quietly and she can see the insecurities in his eyes. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t but—”

“I do,” she hastily answers before he starts rambling nonsense. “Donghyuck you’re my Soulmate. Of course, I love you.” She bends her head down to kiss him deeply, tugging his lower lip with her teeth. “I do. I love you.”

Donghyuck groans lowly before he flips her back to her previous position, him hovering above her. He parts her lips with his and begins tasting every corner of her mouth, making her moan delicately against his warm lips. She cards her fingers through his hair before she rests her hand on his nape, touching the scar that has the exact same shape as hers.

A mark that indicates they’re both connected as Soulmates.

***

17

The clock indicates that it’s 05:17 p.m when his mother hugs him close to her chest. “You’ll be alright, Mark,” she whispers in his ear, her voice breaking. “I will just be right here and we’ll meet again in a few hours, okay?”

Mark Lee smiles brokenly to his family as he leans back on his wheelchair. His father pats him on his shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Son.” 

His older brother gives him a familiar punch to his shoulder, teasing him although his concerned eyes betray him. “You’ll be okay, buddy. Think about it, we can play soccer again after this and I don’t have to hold back for your weak ass.” And Mark only chuckles softly before the doctor drags him away to the surgery room.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Mark says, waving his hand and he can hear his own voice ready to shatter into pieces in the next seconds. “Bye, Hyung.”

And he dedicates his final farewell with a thought of her name.

“Everything will be fine, Mark,” the doctor says, eyes sparked with reassurance though his words mean nothing to Mark’s ears. The patient lies on his bed, taking a deep breath before the nurse injects a needle into his skin. “We’ll get you a new heart so you can ride your bike all day long again like you used to, okay?”

“Okay, Doc,” Mark simply responds, mirroring his smile that soon drops to the ground the second the older man glances away.

“Can you count to ten for me?”

The boy nods, beginning to count as the liquid runs through his veins, making him feel numb and sleepy.

“One.”

He remembers that one morning when he first realized he was in love. It was when she appeared in front of his room, breathless with a frantic look on her eyes, and screamed at him for not telling her that he was having a fever. She skipped school that day, no matter how many times her mother tried to drag her back there, saying that she wanted to stay at home and take care of her best friend.

“Two.”

Mark remembers the second month after they started dating. Of melted ice cream cones and chocolates they shared after school was over. And those secret kisses they stole from each other when their parents weren’t looking. Mark remembers how she used to compare him with summer, and when Mark pouted because he thought she was talking about how his pale skin easily got burned under the sunlight, she only laughed, kissed his cheek, and said, “You’ll always be my summer, Mark.”

“Three.”

He remembers how they used to speak those three words every night and every morning of every day. He remembers how they used to be so shy and he also remembers the day those three words became a promise. A promise, in Mark’s case, that lasts forever. But one that she’d forget in the near future.

“Four.”

Mark had only sung to her with his nervous fingers playing his acoustic guitar four times, but the adoration and the love she had in her eyes lasted for four years.

“Five…”

“There are five reasons why you should fall in love and stay in love with me, Mark Lee,” she once said with a smug smile on her face. “First, I’m a natural beauty.” Mark yawned and she threw her pillow at him. “Second, I’m a loving and caring person.” Mark rolled his eyes and he got a glare in return. “Third, I’m smart—like hella smart.” Mark began to bury his face in his pillow and she flicked him on the ear. “Fourth, I’m sexy.” Mark stared at her with boredom in his eyes as he clapped his hands nonchalantly. “What, it’s true! You said so once, don’t you dare lie to me! And last but not least, I’m your best friend and I’ve understood you as well as I know the back of my hand.” Mark secretly smiled at that.

“Well,” he said, “you know how many reasons are there for you to love me?”

Her eyes twinkled in a teasing manner. “How many?”

“Just one,” Mark said, lacing his fingers with hers.

“And that is?” she asked, looking up to him through her long, beautiful eyelashes.

“It’s because I love you,” Mark said. “Unconditionally and everlastingly. That should be enough reason for you, right?”

And he muffled her happy giggle with a kiss to her lips.

Mark’s eyes start to grow heavy. “S… Six…”

He remembers the way she blushed when he swatted her bangs away from her eyes. Remembers the way she warmed his hands, puffing her cheeks when he was risking his health for her sake. He remembers the way she gasped against his mouth, her spine pressed against the fence, her fingers fisting at the fabric of his sweater. 

“Se…ven…”

“What are you doing, Mark?”

“I’m writing a song.”

“What’s it called?”

“Seven days.”

“Why?”

Mark went flustered and he nearly fainted when she stole his notepad and kept herself moving, dodging his every attempt in retrieving it, before she read on the lyrics he wrote.

“Surprisingly, a week feels really short. Any time spent with you, to end it, it’s a pity. I’m still curious about everything about you. I fall for you more as I get to know you.” 

She sent him a look and Mark immediately babbled, “It’s not specifically about you, it’s about people in general—“ But she muffled the rest of his excuse with her lips, hands tugging around his collar, pressing him closer than ever.

“Eight…”

They just turned eighteen but Mark had her lying underneath him, fingers trembling and lips bruised from his feverish kisses. “I want to be with you. I want to make you feel good. Let me be yours.”

“Am I making you happy?”

“MARK, WATCH OUT!”

A tear slips away from his eye as he begins to close his lids. And the boy never gets to finish counting because his dreams stop there. And now, nightmares welcome him with open arms, just as darkness begins to envelop him once again.

Like an old friend.

***

18

“Don’t you think Yukhei will get mad?” she asks, giggling as she buries her face in her boyfriend’s chest, still peppering small kisses now and then. The clock’s ticking, showing the number 18.18 on the screen of her cellphone. They’re still mostly naked underneath the sheets—with her dressed only in her lingerie and Donghyuck only wearing his boxer—not caring that his roommate, Wong Yukhei, can come back there any second.

“What, because we just had sex on his bed and cuddled afterward?” Donghyuck says, and he chuckles when she punches his shoulder. “Hey, I did say I love you but easy on the hands there, Mike Tyson.”

She beams at him and giggles again when Donghyuck begins to hover above her and trails butterfly kisses from her neck to her collarbones. “Shouldn’t we shower? I feel so dirty,” she says, chuckling when Donghyuck licks a long stripe on the sensitive skin.

“Well, I’m about to do something dirtier to you so why bother?” He slides his hand down her stomach, making her fidget a little with his silky smooth touch, and hover his fingers above the line of her lingerie. Noticing how she nibbles on her lip, anticipating something to occur, Donghyuck smirks. “If I ask you to beg, would you do it?”

Her cheeks turn scarlet but she quickly retorts with, “No way in hell.”

He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. “I could make you feel really good, though.”

She can’t stand being the opposite of him when he’s being sinfully seductive like this. “I’m leaving,” she announces, attempts to wiggle herself free from his hold but he catches her with a snicker tumbling off his lips. Settling her down on his lap, he lays a hand on her spine while his other one sneaks around her waist, bringing her close until his lips graze the supple skin between her breasts.

“You’re leaving?” Donghyuck murmurs, landing another trail of kisses between the valley of her breasts, tongue darting out to taste her skin. “But I still need to worship my Goddess.”

She wants to send him a snarky remark but she’s too deep in pleasure to care at the moment. She sighs and runs her fingers through his hair. Donghyuck flips her around, laying her back to the bed, and spreads her legs apart so he can fit between them. She becomes nervous from the intensity of his gaze as if he’s being consumed by desire and he wants to drag her with him.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he says, bending down until she can feel his breath fanning the inside part of her thigh. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, you don’t even know.” His eyes never leave hers as he sucks bruises on the sensitive skin of her thigh. “And now that I have you where I want you, I still couldn’t get enough. What should I do?”

She swallows hard, instantly closing her eyes when he pushes her lingerie to the side, fingers dipping inside her warmth. His eyes glimmer with lust, wetting his lower lip once as he’s captivated with her sultry expression. “Fuck, you’re so sexy like this.”

Her fingers are twisting against the sheet when she hears his praise followed quickly by the heat of his tongue rubbing against her clit. She’s drowning, intoxicated by his every move, her orgasm nearing close.

But then Donghyuck suddenly stops and breaks away. His eyes are stern and wide, filled with horror.

She frowns as she follows his gaze, landing her eyes on the middle of her bare chest. There’s a long cut, fresh and red, that starts to appear inch by inch on her skin. It begins from a few centimeters below her collarbones to the skin between her breasts, until it stops just a few inches away from her navel.

“W-what is this?” She sits up straight, touching the cut with trembling fingers. She doesn’t feel any pain, which means—

She takes a look at Donghyuck’s chest—at the man who claims that he’s her Soulmate—and finds nothing. There’s no scar on his chest. The mark comes from someone else.

Donghyuck’s not her Soulmate.

Donghyuck’s gawks at the sight before he stares back at her without blinking. When realization appears vividly on her face, he gulps and stutters, “I-I can explain…”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” She screams, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. And when Donghyuck just gazes at her in shock, she pushes him away by his shoulders with so much force, he almost topples off the bed. “GET OUT!”

“W-wait—” Donghyuck tries to explain, standing on his feet with his eyes filled with fear of being thrown away. He looks like death is approaching him. “Noona, please, listen to me—”

“No!” She throws everything she can reach by her hands—his pillow, the sheets, his clothes—while her eyes begin to grow hot and the pain of being betrayed and blatantly lied growing more vividly behind her chest. “How dare you do this to me, you—”

“Noona!” Donghyuck holds her wrists and tries to keep up with her struggle. “Please, calm down and listen—”

“I HATE YOU!” She bites back, crying with her teeth gritting behind her lips when Donghyuck has her pinned back down to the bed. “I hate you…” her voice reduces into a softer tone but somehow it adds more fresh wounds to Donghyuck’s feelings. He knows she doesn’t hate him just like how he will never be able to hate her, no matter what she does. Soulmates or not, she truly does love him. But this... This new scar on her chest... This still changes everything.  

Donghyuck’s eyes turn sorrowful—there’s no more light in them. No joy, no mischievous gleam, nothing but a disappointment he has brought upon himself. “Noona…”

“I believed you,” she sobs, staring at him with broken eyes and quivering lips. “I believed you, Haechannie—how could you do this to me?”

Donghyuck loses his grip, feeling all of his strength leaving his body. “I’m…” He swallows and reaches out a hand when she throws her wrist above her eyes. “Noona, there’s a reason why I’m doing this—”

“Your scar!” She suddenly yells, eyes filled with nothing but rage. “That scar on the back of your neck—is that fake?”

“Noona—”

“Answer me!”

Donghyuck freezes, his throat feels dry when he speaks. “Yes,” He finally admits and he can almost hear her heart shattering apart. “Yes, it’s fake.”

She lets out a breath, one hand going to the side of her head. “I can’t believe it…” Her breathing goes a bit ragged. “I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me—”

“Yes, but—”

“After all this time,” she says, staring at him with new tears in her eyes. “After all this time, Haechannie… You’ve been lying to me.”

Donghyuck endures the pain that comes every time she says those words. “Noona, please, you need to listen to me.” And when he tries to take her wrist again, she pulls back immediately.

“Can you please leave?” she asks between her quiet sobs but her tone is definite. “I’m… I’ll be away before you come back so just—” 

“Noona, can we at least talk—”

“Hyuck, please,” she cries, fisting the sheets underneath her. “Just leave me alone.”

And Donghyuck does as she says because he feels that if he stays just a second longer, she’ll break apart even more and he never wants to see her like that. He’s supposed to bring smiles to her face—to make her laugh just like the old days, but look what he has done now? 

Goddammit, Hyuck.

He hurriedly puts his pants on and he’s already standing at the door before he can even place his shirt back on. “Noona…” He whispers, taking a last look at the girl who’s now hugging her knees to her chest and crying miserably to her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

But she doesn’t hear him. She doesn’t want to hear him.

Just let me be alone.

Donghyuck brings his gaze down to the floor. “I’ll give you some time to get ready. I’ll make sure you’ve left before I come back,” he says, closing the door behind him. “Goodbye, Noona.”

This situation seems familiar but it feels way, way much worse.

 ***

19

Mark Lee 

18: 01: 19 

“Doctor, how is he?” Mark’s mother quickly asks the man when he steps into the waiting room. Her husband stands behind her with a stiff hand on her shoulder, praying for his child’s health. Mark’s older brother bites his lower lip, waiting anxiously for the moment he can breathe in relief because he knows his little brother will be fine.

But that turns out to be wrong when the doctor shakes his head and says, “I’m sorry.”

The surgery has failed. Mark’s body rejects his new heart and he can no longer be saved.

Life ends but their sorrow stays.

***

20

After passing twenty minutes of trying to calm herself down, burying herself under the sheets during those dreading minutes, she finally gets up from the bed. Her hands are still shaky when she collects her clothing and dresses properly. She stares at herself in the mirror, taking a glimpse of the new long scar in the middle of her chest before she buttons her shirt up. Something must have happened to her other half—she needs to find out what it is. She needs to know who it is.

She closes her eyes. Everything hurts and she doesn’t know why but that man’s face—the guy who stood by her gate last night—keeps appearing on her mind. But every time she remembers him, another wound breaks inside her chest, and tears begin to roll down once more.

Exhaling a deep breath, she searches for her phone. She quickly scrolls through her contact list and dials the numbers she’s been searching.

Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!

A woman’s voice comes through the line. “Hello, Yongsan Municipal Library, how may I help—”

“Yes, hi,” she hastily greets, voice still filled with quivers but with more strength behind it when she introduced herself. “I’m looking for this guy named Mark Lee—he w-works at your place a-and—” her voice breaks at the end, trembling with tears that’s about to flood her eyes. “Can… Can you please, let me speak to him?”

There’s a silence on the other side of the phone and she wonders whether that lady doesn’t understand the words she just said or for some entirely different reason. 

Please let him be okay.

“You’re looking for Mark Lee?” she asks and she nods until she realizes she can’t see her. “Y-yes,” she croaks out.

“Well, he hasn’t come here since two days ago,” the lady explains while her heart sinks below her stomach. “He said he was about to go through surgery—”

“Surgery?”

“Yes, for his heart,” she answers and her hand unconsciously goes to her chest. It’s starting to make sense now. “I heard he got into the operation room a few hours ago. I’m still waiting for the news, actually. It’s—oh wait, I got a mail. Maybe this is it.” There’s a rustling sound going on in the background and she waits with her heart thumping loudly. A few seconds later, she hears a soft gasp, “Oh my goodness.”

“Ma’am?” she starts. “Ma’am, what’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Say yes. Please say yes.

Another silence before the lady comes to answer her with a voice so quiet she almost mistakes it as a whisper. “Mark Lee has passed away, just a few minutes ago. He was—”

She drops her phone to the floor in panic and quickly unbuttons her shirt again. She runs to the mirror, focusing her gaze at her reflection and she finds nothing.

The scar on her chest has vanished, not even leaving a trace of it behind. Just like the memories she had with him.

Donghyuck doesn’t really leave the room even when she has screamed at him to do so. He’s closed the door behind him but he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he slides down to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden surface, and waits. The hallway is empty and Donghyuck shivers from the cold.

God, you’re so fucking stupid, he thinks to himself. You shouldn’t have agreed with Chenle. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.

Donghyuck traces the scar on his nape—the fake scar that he made to make her believe. To make her think that he was her Soulmate.

He feels like he’s about to vomit. He’s so sick of himself. Disgusting, he thinks, you’re a piece of crap, Lee Donghyuck. He closes his eyes, biting on his lower lip as his mind flashes back to his conversation with his younger friend, Zhong Chenle.

“Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“You said you wanted to get close to her, right?” Chenle had once said to him. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. That’s the clue.”

Yukhei reached out to see what was hidden behind Donghyuck’s collar. “Shit, dude,” he said, hissing, “You don’t have it. The scar—you’re not her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck’s heart flopped and it took a moment for him to recover. “W-well…” He barked a laugh, masking his disappointment though he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Well then, there goes my chance.”

“No, you still have a chance,” Chenle corrected. “I know who her Soulmate is. And he’s dying.”

“W-what?”

“Mark Lee,” Chenle said with sorrowful eyes and a broken heart. Donghyuck knew perfectly who he was—that guy, the owner of prominent cheekbones, thin lips, and pale skin who constantly refused his offer to play soccer together. “Mark Lee is her Soulmate, Hyung. But he’s... He’s dying. His heart is weak and that’s why he doesn’t want to get close to her. He knows he’s not gonna last long.”

“B-but—” Donghyuck splutters, frowning. “Does she know about this?”

“No,” Chenle shook his head once. “They used to date and she didn’t even know it back then. They didn’t know it back then. Then they got into an accident and she lost her memories. Mark thinks it’s a chance for him to stay away from her.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Donghyuck shouted angrily. “He’s her Soulmate! She deserves to know! They deserve to be together even just for a while—”

“He doesn’t want to. He’s given up, Hyung. He wants me to tell you that.” And his next words were the last thing Chenle said before he left with an apologetic look on his face. “I know you want to push Mark to be with her but I think you should stop. He thinks it’s better this way.”

Donghyuck hissed under his breath, pushing his hair back in frustration. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yukhei gaped before his friend confronted him and asked, “Yukhei, what happened when your Soulmate dies before you know them?”

The tall boy realized where Donghyuck was going with this. He remembered how Donghyuck hadn’t gotten any scars on his body yet.

“You’ll find yourself another Soulmate.”

With that in mind, Donghyuck ran through the corridors, stepping into the faculty he knew Mark Lee was in. The paler boy was in the middle of his literature class and Donghyuck just went in, blurting out, “Sorry Prof, it’s an emergency!” to the lecturer before he yanked Mark out of his seat. The older one was quiet, following him without asking questions until Donghyuck shoved him against a wall in an empty hallway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Donghyuck asked through gritted teeth. His hands were grasping tightly against the fabric of Mark’s collar.

Mark stared at him back with cold, almost challenging eyes. “I should be the one who asked you that. You’re the one who suddenly dragged me over here.”

“She’s your Soulmate!” Donghyuck nearly screamed at him. “Do you know how rare it is to find your Soulmate at such a young age?”

Mark only kept his face straight when he replied, “So you’ve heard.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard, you asshole,” Donghyuck spat back. “And from your friend too because apparently, you’re too busy being such a fucking coward to tell me yourself!”

Mark’s eyes darkened at his degrading words but he didn’t say anything.

Donghyuck exhaled in exasperation. “Look, Mark. do you know how much she wants to find her Soulmate? How much she wants to be with you? You’ve known all along and I know you guys had a history together so why the hell aren’t you two together now?”

Mark’s jaw clenched before he broke their eye contact. “It’s better this way.”

“Why, because you’re dying?”

Mark’s eyes grew hard before he closed them. “Among many reasons.”

Donghyuck was on the verge of punching him so hard across his jaw but when he saw the wounded look that flitted through Mark’s eyes for just a few seconds, he restrained himself. Instead, he just asked,” How could you be so selfish?”

Mark immediately turned to look at the other man with a hard glare, his heart beating fast from his rage. “Selfish?” Mark asked, his tone sounded almost as sharp as a knife. “I’m selfish? Donghyuck-ah, I’m letting the person I care about the most in the world fall into another man’s arm because I don’t want to hurt her! If I die, she’ll—”

“She’ll what? She’ll be sad? Devastated? Well, hey, news flash, Mark. Everybody dies!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “You say you’re dying but you can never know when you’re actually going to die. My condition is as good as a person can be but who can guarantee I’m gonna live long? What if I get into an accident? What if I suddenly get sick and die the next day? You can never know so don’t use that as an excuse, you coward!”

Donghyuck had a point; Mark knew that. But it wasn’t easy.

Mark just shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Of course.” Donghyuck scoffed. “And that’s why I said you’re being selfish.”

“You want to talk about being selfish?!” Mark was losing his patience. “Try to look at yourself! You’re here, pretending like you care and want us to be together when it’s obvious that you’re happy with all of this because you get to have her for yourself—”

Donghyuck punched the boy with his right fist. He couldn’t help it. He snapped.

The punch wasn’t hard enough to knock the teeth out of his mouth but it was hard enough to make Mark feel lightheaded and fall to the floor. He hissed, rubbing the pain off his jaw, and leaned his back against the wall. 

“Fine,” Donghyuck said, staring at the boy who looked up at him with a new bruise forming along his right jaw. Donghyuck could see how much Mark wanted to be with her and how much he tried to convince himself to do so. But he could tell how Mark was afraid. That boy almost lost everything once—he knew how awful it was to be left alone. He didn’t want that to happen to her and though Donghyuck understood that, he just couldn’t accept it yet. “If you want to give up on her,” he said, “Then go. Do it. I’m not you so I don’t know how you feel but I can see that deep down inside, you still don’t want to let her go. But the thing is, Mark, I’m gonna fight for her. I’m gonna make her happy. Soulmates or not, I’m gonna try to make her feel loved because I am—I’m in love with her. But I am not happy taking her away from her Soulmate—from you. That’s your fault. You had two options and you chose to leave. That’s your own decision, so don’t try to make yourself feel better by telling me how I feel. You don’t know me.”

Mark brought his head down, nibbling on his lip. His eyes felt hot and he felt downright awful about himself. He didn’t mean to insult Donghyuck—he was just angry for a second there. His emotions had gone over control.

“Then go make her happy,” Mark said, picking himself up from the floor and walked away. Donghyuck stared at his back and nodded with a sincere promise even when the boy could no longer see him.

“Stupid,” Donghyuck murmurs to himself as his flashback ends. “Mark’s right. You’re selfish. You’re such an idiot.” He punches the ground beneath him a few times out of frustration before he slides his fingers through his hair and pulls on the roots. He doesn’t notice how he just cut himself along his knuckles, his skin breaking and bleeding slowly through a thin layer. “You can’t even be sure you’re her next Soulmate, Hyuck. You’re just an idiot. An idiot and an asshole and you just lost her for the second time in your pathetic little life.” He closed his eyes and leaned back to the door. 

Noona, please forgive me.

She slides down to the floor and hugs her knees to her chest. Pressing her temple to her knees, she sobs until her entire shoulders begin to shake.

Mark Lee was her Soulmate. And he knew—that’s why he came to her house that night. Why didn’t he just tell the truth? And why did he look so familiar? So familiar and yet she doesn’t remember anything. Why can’t she remember him?

God, I beg you, please. Let me remember him, she prays under her muffled sobs, if he ever meant something to me, please, let me remember him. I don’t care if it’ll hurt me, I don’t care. I just want to remember him. That’s all I ask.

Mark…

But as Mark dies, the permanent scar he gets on his chest before his final moment dies with him as well. The memory of him never suffices and Mark is just a shadow, following her everywhere but one that she cannot see.

She braces herself to glance one more time at the scar on her chest but there’s none. The cut has disappeared. She’s just as good as new.

Except for the faint cut that recently appears on her knuckles.

***

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made.  I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years.  We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends.  It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media.  I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs!  When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’  We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her.  I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones.  Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it?  You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable.  Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was.  What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her.  Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible).  Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative.  I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).  

Really, RivkaT?  A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy.  I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either.  It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued.  I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does.   Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic.  Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.”  And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

[jadelotusflower]

It’s Cold in that Fridge: The Case of Nakari Kelen

Since The Case of Mara Jade has been doing the rounds again, I’ve finally gone back to this post that has been sitting in my drafts for literally years. So let’s honour this absolute badass who deserved better:

Once upon a time, the Star Wars universe was but six films (and a tv series) in the story of the Skywalker family. But beyond George Lucas’ story was an absolute boatload of books, comics, games, and other materials that made up the Expanded Universe. When Disney purchased Lucasfilm and the rights to the Star Wars saga, everything in this universe was decanonised and deemed “Legends” - some aspects of this universe were retained or re-purposed, others sit in Disney’s figurative vault and will likely never see the light of day (and seeing how the ST turned out, maybe that’s for the best).

But this transition between Legends canon and Disney canon was not so simple, because the nature of publishing meant that there were novels approved during the time of Legends canon that would be released in the time of Disney canon. In particular, there had been the planned trilogy “Empire and Rebellion”, set between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, with each novel from the perspective of one of The Big Three.  

Razor’s Edge (Leia) and Honor Among Thieves (Han) were released prior to the Great Canon Split of 2014.  But while the Luke-centric novel had been planned, it was not due to be released until well after the Split. So Heir to the Jedi (so called as an homage to the Legends progenitor Heir to the Empire) became one of the first books of the Disney canon.

What does this background have to do with Nakari Kelen?  Perhaps nothing, but I do wonder how the writing process was affected by the shift from Legends to Disney - was the novel a relic of the old EU with any reference the LFL storygroup didn’t like excised during editing, or was it a trendsetter for the new EU, a Sign of Things to Come?  

The most salient point being, of course, that Nakari Kelen - like so many love interests before her - was not allowed to go along her merry way at the conclusion of the novel, but was shoved into the fridge.

If there was one constant of the Legends EU, it was that Luke Skywalker’s love interests couldn’t catch a break. Mara Jade naturally lasted the longest relationship-wise, with almost twenty years of marriage to Luke before some bright spark decided she had to go (as per the aforementioned case study). But before Mara there was Jem, Shira Brie, and Gaeriel Captison (who came close to escaping the curse), and in the Legacy of the Force series they brought back sole survivors Akanah and Callista, only to kill them off for good too (and rather brutally, if I may add).

So perhaps when Kevin Hearne began writing HttJ within the confines of the Legends continuity, he was merely sticking to the status quo, or perhaps once subsumed by Disney they needed to make sure Luke's slate was clean (so to speak).  And I can’t put all the blame on Hearne since I don’t know whether it was his idea, or LFL mandated - but regardless it was a poor decision.

The root cause of fridging, imo, is limited imagination.  How best to cause your male protagonist pain if not kill off someone they love, or at least have strong feelings for? The answer is of course, easily. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The Luke Skywalker of HttJ is fresh from his victory in ANH, a lieutenant in the Rebellion: young, not dumb, and full of...

Nakari Kalen is an absolute Queen a civilian volunteer and crack-shot sniper who loans her ship Desert Jewel to the Alliance. Luke is immediately attracted to her, they bond over a mutual love of fast ships and leaving behind desert home planets, and engage in the inexpert flirting of two nineteen year olds while also risking their lives several times over.

I want to make it clear: I actually really like this book. It's a breezy read, almost serialised as The Early Adventures of Luke Skywalker, and is ofttimes genuinely funny. And credit where it’s due to Hearne, many of of the supporting roles in the novel are female. Other than Nakari, there's Soonta, the Rodian who gives Luke her uncle’s lightsaber, Sakhet the Kupohan spy, and the Givin cryptographer/math genius Drusil Bephorin. In a genre where male characters are often the default for these kind of roles, it was nice to see, but makes the regressive fridging of Nakari even more egregious.

Luke and Nakari make a good team fighting brain-sucking monsters and Imperials, but more importantly they have fun together - she encourages him to work on his Force skills, and he successfully moves objects with his mind for the first time (leading to Nakari adorably dub him "a little noddle scooter"). It's a very sweet, if brief, relationship, and a respite from the danger of the mission. They spend the night together (leaving the reader to decide exactly what happened behind closed doors), and share a kiss before splitting up to try and escape bounty hunters. No prizes for guessing what happens to Nakari immediately after she received the Skywalker Kiss of Death.

I assume there were two motivating factors for why Hearne and/or LFL couldn't let Nakari live:

1. If she survived, fans would wonder why she doesn't appear in ESB/subsequent material.

I recall this bandied about on forums back at the time of the book's release, and to that I say - so what? Fans are always going to wonder, and try to paper over the gaps in canon, to make up their own headcanons to explain any any perceived inconsistencies. It's certainly no reason to kill someone off.

It is in fact possible for two young people to have a romance that just fizzles, or doesn’t work out for whatever reason - it should not require great maneuvering or explanation. If Nakari doesn’t show up in the next book in the timeline, what about it? The reader is smart enough to assume she and Luke broke up, decided to just remain friends, whatever. But it seems that the only way for a female character to exit stage left is for her to die, which is bullshit.

And actually, there's no reason why she couldn't have shown up again. ESB and RoTJ cover a month and a few days, respectively, of Luke's life - just because there was no mention of Nakari doesn't mean she didn't exist at that time, whether or not she and Luke were an item. She could have made an appearance in a subsequent novel, or Rebels, or the comics - she could have become a recurring character, showing up when the Rebellion needed her, or - heaven forbid - even have her own comic/book/show! Her existence in Star Wars canon didn't need to begin and end with Luke Skywalker, merely to service his plotline and backstory and abandoning the richness of her own.

No, the only reason Nakari had to die was to facilitate this:

It was a blow to the gut, realizing what that sudden absence meant. I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, but I had felt Nakari's life snuffed out through the Force, and into that void where she had shone anger rushed in - anger, and a cold sense of raw power and invincibility...I took a step to join in the hunt but stopped, breathing heavily, unaccountably sweating even though I felt so cold inside and the power of the Force roiled within me... I shook with emotion and power, and none of it felt the way the Force had before...I saw what kind of space it was , a black hole that would always be hungry no matter how much I fed it. I might never feel warm again if I didn't get myself under control.

Luke feels the dark side and is tempted by the boost of power it offers him, but immediately identifies it as dangerous and unnatural. I can understand why Hearne wanted to include this - it is a book of firsts after all: Luke's first solo mission, his first time using telekenisis, and ending with story with his first experience of the dark side makes sense. But it wasn't necessary, which leads to:

2. How to push Luke to touch the dark side without killing someone he has romantic feelings for?

Also, obviously, shite of the bull (or nerf, if you prefer). Even if this brush with the dark side was absolutely necessary for the novel's climax, there's any number of ways it could be achieved. At this point, Luke is fresh from losing important people in his life - Owen and Beru, Ben, and Biggs - lumping another death on top of that a narrative trick for Luke to react not only to losing Nakari, but the others as well. But it's cheap, the first card in the deck, and why not show a bit of imagination? Luke is young and inexperienced enough at this point that any number of things could be the catalyst - the whole book he's struggling with his growing powers, why not try and reach too far in the firefight with the bounty hunters, his anger and frustration with himself in not doing enough trigger the dark side temptation? It would work thematically and doesn't involve a fridging that ultimately has very little payoff.

Because Nakari is killed less than ten pages from the end of the book - afterwards Luke grieves, but ultimately chooses to honour her memory and be grateful for what he learned with her, recommitting to becoming a Jedi. It's all very surface level, and once again a female character's death facilitates a male character's development. Was it so imperative that Luke lost someone he cared about as part of this story? Sure, this was a time of galactic civil war, and it's far from unrealistic that these stories have a high body count, but who to make collateral damage remains an authorial choice, and in this case Nakari Kelen was (a) a female character of color, (b) a love interest of the protagonist - not just of this book, but the entire Original Trilogy.

I don't know to what extent (if any) race had to play in the decision. I'm sure there was a segment of the fandom absolutely livid that Luke Skywalker kissed (and maybe had sex with) a black woman. Was her death LFL hedging its bets, or demonstrative of the general lack of attention/respect they show their characters of colour?

In any case this was a chance to stand out from the old EU and it's fridge full of Luke's dead girlfriends, but instead they chose to introduce and kill off Nakari for the sole purpose of Luke's manpain and character development, and that's gross.

And then there's this:

A grisly yet reliable fact about custom bounty hunter ships is that you can always count on them to have body bags stashed somewhere for the easy transport of their kills. They often have built-in refrigerated storage, too.

NAKARI IS KILLED AND LITERALLY STORED IN THE FUCKING FRIDGE I COULDN'T BELIEVE WHAT I WAS READING.

I really hope this was unintentional on Hearne's part, because yikes. He was halfway there, this book was full of interesting female characters who had agency - Drusil in particular was a delight with her super math and inability to understand human interaction. Nakari was full of life and fun - capable but relatable, showing a different side of the Rebellion and those that suffered under the Empire's rule. Fridging her in her first appearance is considerably more vile, because it reduces her to a footnote of Luke's story, a plot device to Help Him Grow, rather than a springboard to tell more of her own story.

Because Nakari was a compelling character ripe for spinoff potential. I would absolutely have read or watched her continued adventures, juggling missions for her father's Biolabs company and trying to aid the Rebellion, shooting her slug rifle and cracking wise, maybe even finding a way to amplify her mother's song Vader's Many Prosthetic Parts to really stick it to the Empire, or try and free the political prisoners on Kessel.

The old EU was made great by allies and enemies of Our Heroes showing up again to help or hinder them, and/or branching out into their own material. We fell in love with them, and followed their stories even as they diverged from the main saga, eager to read more about their lives.

Nakari Kelen never got that chance. In many ways, she exemplified what Disney Star Wars was to become: an exercise in wasted potential.

[black-rose-writings]

I read Ruin and Rising because I’m bored

And I also hate myself

Like with the last book, I have a vague idea of the plot and stuff from tumblr and fanfics. I will also be refering to Darkling as Sasha for most of this.

I am still Darklina trash and don’t particularly like Mal.

On a different note, I’ve finally moved for college, but the internet here is trash, so I’ll probably have a lot more reading time now, since most games I play are online and will crash without internet.

Before

Cool story. Let’s hope Alina stays a badass.

Who am I joking, I know how this ends.

Chapter 1

So far so good. I hate the Apparat, per usual. Alina’s there basically dying and that bitch can’t wait to see her do so.

Cult leader to the core this one. He probably hates that his figurehead is alive and also not brainwashed.

Cult leader doesn’t like swearing. How surprising.

My boy David is completely right. What kind of irresponsible dingus keeps centuries old books in a fucking wet-ass cave? (Or a tree for that matter *cough cough* The Last Jedi *cough, cough*).

Genya is fun to be around.

Oh, shit, let’s go.

Chapter 2

Jesus Christ, Alina, Zoya isn’t that bad.

This is one hell of a shitshow.

I live for this version of Alina. Badass. Scary. I want more of this Alina.

Chapter 3

Out of all the random little details from crappy smut fics, I did not expect Oncat to be from the books, lol.

Mal actually has a supernatural tracking ability. Like, literally, they put a bug into the pouch with gunpowder so he could make the shot. I guess this was kinda said before, but never this directly, right?

Alina’s merzost-skyping Sasha now, yay.

Alina is horny for Sasha boy. Yay.

Alina canonically has a praise kink. Nice.

I hate LB with all of my heart at this very moment. How dare she bait us Darklina people like this? How DARE she? (Shipbaiting is the worst, seriously.)

Yes, yes, yes. These two lines. That’s what their relationship is all about. They’re each others foils, the yin to the other’s yang and... ugh. I am Darklina trash to the core and this hurts.

Darklina: You have a terrible taste in men.

Alina: I liked you once.

My boy Sasha walked into that one.

Chapter 4

Alina is a Queen. And we love her.

David, my beloved, my spirit animal.

It’s surprising they can read it at all, given it’s been centuries. Have you ever tried reading medieval manuscripts?

Honestly, with a father that crazy, it’s no wonder Baghra’s a bitch. And I’ve seen it said somewhere that the books imply Ilya’s experiments are what caused Baghra to be a shadow summoner and you know what? I can see how you’d make that connection.

Why is there so few Tidemakers in the books? Waterbenders are useful. I want more waterbenders.

Alina picking up some habits from Baghra I see.

Ah, yes, we love an educated giant.

I’m starting to think Harshaw is a bit nuts.

Shut up, Hershey. Or at least share the weed with the class. I’m not here for this “He’s mean to you because he likes you”. I might believe that in like, elementary school, but yall are (more or less) adults. Jesus.

Well, that was a bombshell of a twist.

Chapter 5

Oh boy, we’ve got some trauma bonding for out merry band of misfits. Yay.

Adrik has a crush on Zoya. And she hates it, lol. Cut the kid some slack, he’s like 15 or something.

That reminds me, I have a four-leaf clover pressed in books from close to year and a half ago. Time flies.

They’re really diving into the Mal has supernatural powers, huh?

Ghosts, let’s go.

Alina “I’m so happy to be outside I start to shine like a fucking fairy” Starkov and Mal is entranced. He’s definitelly nicer now. I’m not forgiving him for all the shit he’s pulled before and for using the silent treatment way too much, but hey, at least he’s improving.

I am not a Zoyalina person, but like... gay? Please? Rivals to grudging allies to friends to lovers, 300k slowburn? Sounds more fun than whatever Mala dn Alina have going on, lol.

(I’m starting to realize I’m not as much a Darklina person as I am anti-Malina person, lol. Like, literally everyone has a more interesting dynamic with Alina than tracker boy over there. Malina is at best boring AF and at worst toxic, codependent and emotionally abusive, while also being boring AF at the same time. It has literally nothing going for it except God herself liking it).

I can see why Nadia is gay in the show. The book version of her definitelly has a crush on Tamar. Homegirl likes a woman, who can murder her with the flick of her wrist and honestly? Same.

Alina has some big “coming out of lockdown after a year” energy atm.

The cat is one of the most realistic characters in this thing, lol.

And since Tamar is also heavily queercoded, our lovely ladies make off into the night, flirting. Or maybe not. Let me dream, though.

At least Blade Boy is aware that his tattoo is stupid. To quote someone ranting about him on tumblr: He’s embracing his identity as a tool.

Oh, boy, this will be fun.

Evil soldier is horny for Mal. Saints, is there a woman in this book who isn’t horny for Blade Boy?

And here comes Niki to save the day.

Chapter 6

Niki saved the day.

Fiberglass? And David being David. Genya being in love with her nerd of a boyfriend.

Jesus Christ, this one crazy kid has moved the technology in this universe a whole century on his own. So, when is David going to propose to him?

Baghra hasn’t changed much I see.

Baghra’s about to drop some truthbombs, but no, we have to be rudely interupted because Genya’s rapist is throwing a fit.

Chapter 7

How does Mal sound? Is she gonna say the Blade boy sounds like her dad? I mean, I know voices are partially genetic, but it has been tens of generations between them, probably.

So, we’re finally taking Genya’s trauma seriously after all this time? Good. Better late than never, I guess.

I wish that regicide was already finished and I’m pretty sure that Genya does, too. Stop defending the fucking king, narrative.

David’s a nerd in all things I see.

Someone please just kill the king already. And the queen, too, for good measure.

Now that’s a romance.

Infodumping and listening to said infodumps is a legitimate love language, Alina. Let them nerd out over poisons.

Wait, has Alina never directly killed anyone before? I thought she did... hmmm.

And just like that, it should have been over. Ugh.

Somehow, Baghra is a better teacher now than she was before. She half feels like a completely different character.

Nevermind, she’s back at it.

Chapter 8

Holy shit, Nadia and Tamar are canon. They have canon gays here.

So, which one of them is gonna die?

Chapter 9

We arrive at that scene. The one, where they should have fucked.

Jeez, girl, get a hold of yourself. Life is short, fuck a villain.

In other news, Genya and David definitelly fucked.

Chapter 10

Poor David. He just wanted to know.

Damn... I never realized just how young Baghra was, when she killed her sister.

I’ve already made a post about this, but it really does strike me like Baghra has already decided to end her life at this point in the book.

Why is that whole “but what if we’re related” thing even in there?

Chapter 11

We love a suprise attack.

When did Sasha boy learn that trick?

Baghra really just did that. Oh boy.

Chapter 12

No, don’t kill the kid... ugh.

Emotiona support cat. She should be friends with Milo.

Porrige for brains. Oof.

So Nadia was the one, who got bees set on her in the book. Cool.

That’s a good question. Why was it never brought up to Alina, that other Grisha get blocks, too?

David already thinking of steampunk prosthetic for Adrik is honestly kinda sweet.

Chapter 13

Back home... kinda.

Is that really... you really care about Mal bonking the Grisha school mean girl over a year ago? Okay.

Chapter 14

Angst! Yay!

And more angst.

Chapter 15

Sasha really went “My mom killed herself to save you? Well, I’ll kill the closest thing to parents you have.”

Chapter 16

Nikolai’s alive. Kinda.

And these two have such a sibling energy, I can’t.

And then they fuck. Ew.

Chapter 17

Wait, wait wait... so Alina isn’t even the one to destroy the Fold?

Okay. That’s... weird.

Holy shit. That was...

So, Aleksander is dead. Mal isn’t. Someone else destroyed the Fold for Alina and now she has no powers.

Okay.

That’s a weird-ass ending.

Chapter 18

The gays survived, so that’s nice.

Genya made good on her promise of making Alina a ginger, lol.

After

What emotion is this supposed to give me? Cause all I feel is kinda sad.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

[5lazarus]

Masterlist of My Stories

My Writing

Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, I post a snippet of what I'm currently working on.

On Mondays, I post the last lines of the stories I'm finishing up, as well as lessons learned from the previous week. I post this under the tag #last line monday and #lessons from the week.

On Wednesdays, I throw up a snippet of fanfiction. I post this under the tag #wip wednesday.

On Fridays, I write at least seven lines of my own stories, either poetry, essays, or fiction. I post this under the tag #seven line friday.

On Sundays, I post at least six lines of fanfic. I post this under the tag #six sentence sunday.

For more information about me, check out my About Me page. I don't answer personal questions unless I share an asklist, I don't take prompts unless I share a promptlist, and I don't keep anonymous asks on. I've also made two promptlists--one a writing challenge, the other a list of poetry prompts! Find my work archived and updated under hes5thlazarus on Archive of Our Own.

Below is a catalogue of my stories, broken down by fandom (Dragon Age, Harry Potter, Star Trek):

My Dragon Age Stories

There Is No Ithaca Three moments where Solas loses his home: Solas wrecks his revolution on the altar of Mythal. Solas returns from war to find Ghilan’nain incubating the Blight within their own home. Fen'Harel negotiates the end of the world with the Thaig of the Bastion of the Pure. Answers to various asks from brightoncemore's wonderful promptlist.

Ultramarine Sylaise attempts to trademark the color blue, initiating a civil war. Fen'Harel disapproves. Felassan, at this point, is just along for the ride. Highlights include: Andruil attempts to create biological weapons out of the conquered children of the stone and sell them to absolutely everyone, Mythal may or may not involve, Solas greatly disapproves, and everyone wants to kill Fen'Harel for disapproving. Also an explanation as to why Solas has to think before answering Sera on whether he has ever pissed magic by accident. Sorta a love story, sorta a comedy, sorta a story about political intrigue--but hey, Solas said Arlathan was even worse than Orlais! A big thank you to potatowitch and isomede for talking me through this and getting me to finish it--and for giving me the best ideas for it.

Overheard at the Hanged Man Thirty-one stories written in Nightmare-mode for Beyond the Veil's 2020 Artober Challenge, ranging through the entire series, from Arlathan before the Blight to the Chargers in Serault.

Alistair the Accidental Heretic Alistair gets bored during morning prayer and starts changing the words of the Chant as he sings. Mother Prudence and Knight-Commander Greagoir are less than pleased, and soon he finds himself tripping up over accidental heresy even within the kitchens of Kinloch Hold. It's not easy, being a half-elf templar with a conscience, because even having a sense of humor is heresy.

The Starkhaven Crier A portrait of two future apostates at ten-year-olds: Jowan and Surana are bored, get dragged to the Chantry for the good of their souls, and accidentally make the new girl from Starkhaven cry. Featuring Surana determined to be the one Dalish against letting the Maker come back, the self-hating mage in the Surana/Amell origin as the Starkhaven Crier, and the same Mother Prudence who sent Alistair to bed without supper. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Morrigan at the Crossroads Morrigan reaches her breaking point, confronted with the one person she cannot flee: her six-week-old son, who cannot be soothed back to sleep, struggling in the Crossroads. From a prompt musettta3 sent me.

Shartan's Riddle Surana talks Mahariel through writing Leliana, after Leliana leaves to work for the Divine. Shartan promised them a home, and Mahariel worries Leliana, devout as she is, cannot give it to her. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Winter in Amaranthine The Wardens' companions decide to leave, and Warden-Commander Arana Mahariel cannot find a reason good enough to tell them no. Meanwhile, letters between the Warden and Leliana get lost in translation, and Arana makes it worse. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Palimpsest Velanna and Sigrun fight some darkspawn, talk around the past, and write some letters. Written as a gift for hellbell, for the Sapphic Solstice 2021 Gift Exchange.

Phosphorescence A Despair demon in the Foundry district is clogging up the whole city with a miasma of misery. Justice runs into an old friend of his, during Anders' first few weeks in Kirkwall, and the three set to work. Heavy-handed allegory abounds, but, Justine opines, that’s the Dreamers’ fault. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Labyrinth "Anders made no attempt at escape during the years they were together." This story is meant to explore everything absolutely horrible about that statement. If the core part of Anders' identity is his refusal to submit to imprisonment, then perhaps listening to Karl was a violation of his sense of self. Things get better, and then things get worse.

Kirkwall Thunderstorm Family squabbling as the storm sets in, Hawke flees to face the thunderstorm head on, and laughs, because what's more to life than this, chasing a storm all the way down to the harbor? From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

Debutante Leandra manages Hawke's debut ball, and surprises herself by having a lot of fun. From an OC ask I decided to turn into a prompt.

Dregs Anders baits Varric, or Varric baits Anders, both drunk at the Hanged Man. There's no resolution to an argument when they're both just angry, thinking about dead mages. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

The Scent of Pomegranates Merrill brings a pomegranate to the Hanged Man, to try and capture some of the way her clan celebrated the new year. Fenris is oddly moved. Written for the DA Den's 2020 Holiday Gift Exchange.

Anders in Autumn Anders and Fenris, over the course of one gorgeous autumn in Kirkwall, find common ground, a common goal, and even tenderness, as the city grows cool and vibrant in the changing of the year. Justice returns to the streets of Kirkwall, one way or another, and it is as transformative and loving as justice truly is. An answer to an Artober challenge from cozy-autumn-prompts

Warp & Weft Anders wakes Fenris up in the middle of the night talking, and then not wanting to talk, about weaving. What they remember and what they have forgot climb into the bed with them. A gift for potatowitch.

Landlocked Merrill goes looking for Isabela after a night of drinking at the Hanged Man, and finds her considering the sun rising over the horizon at the docks. They're landlocked and the salt's drained them both dry, but maybe it's not all been a waste. They're shipless, not shipwrecked. Part of a personal challenge to write more femslash, after realizing how little there is in Dragon Age fandom.

Love and Red Ink Varric tries his hand at a more literary Bildungsroman about his youth as a Kirkwall bohemian. Bianca tears it apart, editing for his own good. Sometimes love is in the margins, your almost ex-girlfriend telling you--I wasn't that pretty, when I was that young.

The Most Boring Sex Party in All Orlais Josephine and Leliana both admit the night they met ended with someone's smallclothes pinned to the Chanter's Board--but what happened right before? Josephine says, “I have played the Game before, and understand its cutthroat stakes. But I must admit, I never thought I would witness the opening salvo of a coup at the most boring sex party of all Orlais.”

Catabasis Kirkwall's in ashes and Hawke and their friends are on the run. Varric might have ended the story at the docks, but the conflict continues. The question persists: should they separate? And what brought them together in the first place? From a series of prompts ellie-effie and musetta3 sent me.

The Domestics Alistair runs into an older elven woman on the battlements, watching the children play in the Skyhold courtyard below. They get to talking: isn't it nice that the mages get to keep their children now? Then, in the course of the conversation, Alistair figures it out. Alistair says, “I always wondered. What my life would’ve been like, if she could’ve kept me. I always kinda knew she didn’t have a choice. King’s bastards are the king’s, not whoever carried them. If she were a servant and if I’d end up in the kitchens or, better yet, the dairy. I really like cheese. But if she were a mage, I guess we never had any of that. Unless she ran away.”

The Bane of Red Crossing In the astrarium cave in the Storm Coast with Inquisitor Lavellan, Cole, and Solas, Sera opens a chest and finds a beautiful bow, named the Bane of Red Crossing. But what is the Bane of Red Crossing? According to the codex: "Ser Yves de Chevac used this bow in the Exalted March against the Dales – specifically, in the liberation of Val Royeaux, where the chevalier famously struck down the elven forces' commander with a shot to the throat at two hundred feet." Lavellan is not pleased, but does not know how to communicate effectively with Sera. Cole and Solas make it worse. Sometimes there is no adequate resolution, when you are faced with the instrument of your great-grandparents' destruction. Sometimes there is nothing that disinterested compassion can say.

To the Victor the Spoils In the Skyhold gardens, in Adamant's wake, Solas meets Loghain. A character study of two trickster-kings, speaking a little too honestly. As Loghain himself says, "The past is always with us. It’s in our bones and our blood and we wear it on our skin. You can think otherwise, but you’ll never get far without it."

Dead Man Hiking Solas broods over what has been lost. Dorian interrupts, and Solas dangles hidden knowledge in front of him like a carrot. They both take the bait, because, as irritable and sad Solas can get, "he wants to give wisdom, not orders," and Dorian loves to learn. Written for Beyond the Veil's 2020 Satinalia Gift Exchange.

So Much Lore! So Much Information! Dorian has a wonderful conversation with the Skyhold Librarian about improvements to the library's filing system and the innovations coming out of Minrathous when Vivienne comes by and points out he's just talking to himself. He's been waxing rhapsodic about the Tevinter equivalent of the Dewey decimal system to a spirit--or maybe a demon. So clearly they must investigate.

Dirthara Ma! May You Learn After the Exalted Council, Solas stops for a drink and a sulk in a quiet tavern in Ostwick. He is convinced no one will ever recognize him with a full head of hair and a beard. Then the Inquisitor walks in. The first in a canon-compliant post-Trespasser Solavellan series.

White Nights A year after Trespasser, Lavellan takes a new lover to a quiet inn in Val Royeaux. She steps out to the balcony for a quick smoke under the stars, looks over to the balcony adjacent to hers--and who is there but the Dread Wolf himself, slightly disguised, with a glass of wine? Despite themselves they talk, and do not stop talking. “Entertain me,” Solas says. “What ending will Master Tethras write for us? Because I do not know how to leave this gracefully. Though I suppose any ending is better than the last one, when I left with your arm.” The second and most comprehensive in a canon-compliant post-Trespasser Solavellan series. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

Ligaments Briala has loaded her dice when playing the Game. Gaspard throws her in prison, but her message goes out to both the Dread Wolf, keen to better his reputation for catastrophe amongst the elves of Orlais, and the Dalish Inquisitor, who is still reeling from the loss of her arm. “We do not necessarily know he is the enemy,” Leliana says. “And it is exciting, no? To have that rush of danger and destruction between every kiss.” The third in a canon-compliant post-Trespasser Solavellan series. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

Out From Under the Dread Wolf's Eye Briala and Merrill try and steal an eluvian out from under the Dread Wolf's eye. It doesn't quite work, but that doesn't mean the day's a failure, not when there's dinner to be had and a connection to explore. Written as a gift for hellbell, for a prompt they gave for the Sapphic Solstice 2021 Gift Exchange, but not submitted to the collection.

The Domesticities Solas adjust to a new, gentle love that has gripped his heart and will not let him go: a Lavellan who heralds a world he did dream of, and learns how to survive grief and his own betrayal, learns how to surrender the high moral ground and focus on the domesticities. A series of Solas-POV ficlets from my story, Fen'Harel's Teeth, where Lavellan is a mother and leader in her own right, and barely keeping her head above the water of her own deep grief. Not in chronological order!

He Who Hunts Alone Solas will restore the Elvhen People as he knew them, even if this world must die. It is his only purpose as he understands it. But a magical accident leaves him in another world, where a version of himself has made a very different choice. Solas is forced to reckon with a desire he has never let himself explore. Inquisitor Tara Trevelyan, both his friend and adversary, is dragged with him, as they move from their world, to a world where Solas seems to have won it all, to another that seems both their worst nightmare. Inquisitor Tara Trevelyan: the rebel apostate mage, romanced Josephine Inquisitor Imladris Lavellan: the Dalish First, romanced Solas, featured in Fen'Harel's Teeth Inquisitor Brigid Trevelyan: the faithful Andrastian prophet, rogue and noble, Tara's sister, romanced Blackwall and then Cullen Written in tandem with my partner, batsy22-me, and likewise abandoned when we got bored of it.

Fen'Harel's Teeth First Lavellan, Imladris Ashallin, thought that her audience with the Divine against templars' harassment of Dalish mages would be a token protest, and that her people would use it to draw the city elves closer to the Vir Tanadahl. She didn't think her Keeper's calculations would catapult her to the top of the Chantry's leadership, manipulating the powers of Thedas to leave her people be. Meanwhile, Briala foments revolution in Halamshiral, using the eluvian network to sabotage the armies of Orlais. A new movement erupts in the Dales, and elves across Thedas look at this so-called "Herald of Andraste" and see Mythal's vallaslin. Fiona breaks the chains of mages across Thedas, and Fenris starts whispers of a new age in Tevinter--one where the slaves throw down their masters. A new age is coming, and all of Thedas look to Lavellan to usher it in. My baby, my never-ending story, my current work-in-progress.

My Harry Potter Stories

Harry Potter Daydreams Archiving my old Harry Potter headcanons from Tumblr onto AO3. These are not necessarily nice to the characters from canon, and focus what I find interesting--their flaws, and how that could create conflict in their lives.

General Snape Headcanons Archiving my old Harry Potter headcanons from Tumblr onto AO3.

Augury Gang Eileen's mother curses her, and she dies not too long after giving birth to Severus. Tobias, a millworker and a proud union man, does his best.

Snape in the City Instead of dying, Snape moves to New York. A Severus Snape/Narcissa Malfoy and Severus Snape/Regulus Black story.

An Incident at the Mill the millrat AU A series of vignettes on what could’ve happened if Tobias Snape had been badly injured in an accident at the mill, forcing Severus to drop out of Hogwarts before the Prank. Predominantly Lilycentric. Snily shippers, rejoice: most of the vignettes are from Lily’s point of view, featuring her as flawed, passionate, bullheaded, comfortable in her sexuality, quick to curse and quicker to laugh at herself–and with a complicated relationship to alcohol and the Wizarding World. A big thank you to eleniaz and deathdaydungeon for sparking the initial headcanons that became this series.

Saplings 1980 Albus asks Minerva to tend to the "tender new sapling" of a Potions Master. Minerva looks at the manic-triggered recovered Death Eater and thinks they're doomed for failure. Snape thinks she's right. A couple of friendship & mentorship & not-quite hurt/comfort ficlets, where Severus oozes despair and McGonagall fails, completely, utterly, to be of service. There are two pieces of fanart floating around Snapedom, one of Snape oozing, the other a comic eleniaz did years ago. Unfortunately I've lost the links.

Harry Potter and the Summer of the Stepfather In an alternate world where Neville Longbottom is the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter's parents divorce relatively amicably. Eventually, Lily starts dating again, and Harry finds himself actually enjoying the summer Snape stays over.

Last Round at the Hog's Head Thirty-one ficlets written for the 2020 Snapetober challenge.

Your Body's a Revolution Eight stories written for the 2020 Trans Snape Week challenge.

July 1977 Snape stews in teenage melodrama, eating lunch at a cheap fish-and-chips shop in Upper Cokeworth, beset by memories of a wasted ex-girlfriend, who couldn't be Lily Evans--what Bertha Jorkins saw behind the greenhouses, and what came after. Revised from an earlier account, cross-posted from fanfiction.net.

Maleficari's Mutinous Munitions Sprout grew the wrong kind of mandrakes--mandragora, rather than English mandrakes, and no one knew that there actually was an infinitesimal difference--so Severus needs to save the day before Lockhart can. A little of Slytherin cunning, a willingness to embezzle, and a sense of spite wins the day. Prompted by masaotheheckindog.

Honeydukes Horror Remus Lupin genially humiliates Severus Snape as he attempts to order chocolates. Some schoolboy grudges never get better, and nothing Severus can say will let him seem the better man. Prompted by snapescapades.

Weavers Bored before the start of sixth year, Harry goes through Petunia's old family photo albums. He demands some answers, and Dumbledore sends Snape. "He finds a photo of her laughing with a boy who is not his father, who’s got his long black hair and a hand thrown up, too, covering his face. She’s about his age in this photo, or a bit older. Carefully he slides it out of the plastic. There’s writing on the back: 'Weavers, Sev & Lily, 1976. to Baba O’Riley and the rest of our lives!!' The writing is familiar, spidery, almost indecipherable, and he squints because it reminds him of someone, it’s strangely familiar, and then he drops the photo in shock. Because he knows: that’s Severus Snape."

They Call This Closure? Severus comes to consciousness into a dream of Potter reenacting his worst memory-and then Lily Evans comes tearing in at age sixteen, rather than as the more mature adult his subconscious normally designs her. They call this closure? Officially dead, officially incomplete: and I call this closure?

Harry Potter and the Cursed Mark Triple-cross! Mitarashi Anko of the Village Hidden in the Leaves joins Severus Snape as one of Dumbledore's agents, seeking to train the Boy-Who-Lived to understand his mental connection to Lord Voldemort. Snape thinks that they really didn't need to hire a goddamn technicolor ninja to fill the DADA position, but at least it's not one of Fudge's underlings taking charge--wait, he has to put up with her anyway? More seriously, Anko and Severus discover a connection between their cursed marks and the Potter boy's scar, Dumbledore expedites the plot, and Voldemort weaves an insidious plot, inspired by Lord Orochimaru, to take over the Resistance--from the inside. Incomplete and officially dead.

My Star Trek Stories

Raktajino Kira Nerys stews over the history of Terok Nor and the Occupation over a cup of raktajino, soon after she meets Marritza, and Garak just does not know when to leave a bleeding wound alone. Written as a gift for batsy22-me.

Open Mic at Quark's Thirty-one stories written for Trektober 2020, ranging from TOS, the movies, to Lower Decks and Discovery. Includes Keiko joining the Maquis, Spock introducing Amanda to Saavik, Mariner and crew getting lost on a road trip, and more!

Splash Quark takes a dip in a hot spring. Odo follows. It is not, Odo insists, sexy. Regardless, Quark is going to enjoy tormenting him with mutual nudity, since he was the one who interrupted his bath, after all. Prompted by saathiray.

Lore and the Prophets Lore thinks he can sneak off Deep Space Nine and get through the wormhole without anyone noticing. The Prophets have other ideas. Written for the Star Trek 2020 Gift Exchange, for electricsunrise.

Jambalaya Before Worf's wedding plans take over the station, Benjamin Sisko tries to find out what happened during the Founders' occupation of Deep Space Nine, and why Odo won't look him in the eye. Of course he investigates in the guise of inviting everyone to dinner.

Tear of the Prophets Was prompted by saathiray to write about Kira Nerys repatriating an artifact sacred to Bajor from Cardassia, and this is what we got! The Shakaar cell leads a procession after Cardassia returns the Orb of Contemplation to Bajor, to collective joy. Kai Opaka says, "So I say to you my people, the survivors of atrocity and keepers of the wormhole—the Prophets cried for you millennia before you were made. They sent their Tears from their temple as a safeguard as to what was to come. And now that it is safe, now that we have won—their Tears are for all." Featuring Latha having an Orb experience, explaining why he became a vedek.

Jane Austen Book Club Dukat reads Pride and Prejudice to help him understand human relations (and fuck the Sisko). He thinks he’s being Darcy but really, he’s just Mr. Collins…and evil. Garak lends him a copy of Jane Austen and a horrific cravat, and really, it's all downhill from there.

Miscellaneous Stories

Fireworks, a feminist deconstruction of Naruto Sarada takes one look at the Uchiha legacy and decides she wants no part of it. Sakura, who has built herself a life independent of the husband who abandoned them, tries to reckon with how her daughter cannot actually decide the path her life takes. And Hanabi is happy to offer advice and consolation, as Sakura tries to talk her best friends into letting Sarada be a civilian. A feminist deconstruction of Naruto, where everyone is taken seriously and treated with the same love Sakura offers to all her friends. No character-bashing, just contemplating what could have happened if, when Sasuke left Sakura and their baby the second time, Sakura decided to file for divorce rather than wait for him to come back. Of course they still love each other. Of course it's not simple.

Same Time Next Week?, a Babylon 5 fanfic Vir and Lennier meet for their usual drink. A pre-relationship, lightest of touches, beginning of it all story.

Sunrise, Parabellum, a Disco Elysium fanfic Early Wednesday morning, before Harry's woken up and before they've closed the water lock and headed to the fishing village, Kim Kitsuragi gets up and wants a cigarette. He has a cup of coffee instead and contemplates his partner's newfound sobriety. Sunrise, parabellum: he gets up and prepares for war.

Dragon Eyes, an Avatar: the Last Airbender fanfic On a diplomatic mission to the Fire Nation, Katara leaves the children with Aang to have tea with Zuko and Mai. But the two of them have something they want to talk about. They've lived enough of fathers neglecting one child for the other, and they have seen enough. Katara wishes they had propositioned her, rather than bring this up.

Cages, an Avatar: the Last Airbender fanfic Mai visits Azula. It is not easy.

[ajbwasntwriting]

Getting Adopted By The Survivors

Author’s Note: I’ve been rewatching the walking dead for the god knows how many times since lockdown began. I had this idea rollling around my head for a while so I wrote it down for ya’ll. How you enjoy. If this gets to 50 notes I’ll do a part 2

Grimes Family(Rick, Lori, Carl)

You were thirteen and found by Rick first

You were walking down the road, having been separated from your group by a herd just a couple days ago. He approached you on horseback, saying he was headed towards the city.

You told him not to go to the city and that it was dangerous but he wouldn’t listen and went anyway.

That evening he spotted you from the car, driving back to the camp. He got T-dog to pull over and pick you up. He brought you back to the camp where you met his family.

“I tried to warn you.” you told him. “Yeah, you did.” he chuckled and promised to help you find your group.

You left the atlanta camp with them, having nowhere else to go. You tried to keep Carl entertained when everyone was out looking for Sofia.

When Carl got shot you got upset. You tried to help around the farm or camp but everything you did just got you in more trouble. You eventually broke down, telling Lori you were sorry and you just wanted to help

Lori loving you as if you were her own. Insisting you share a tent with the grimes from day one.

Shane was especially sweet towards you from the beginning but you didn’t entertain him. You had more important things to do like help with the cooking and cleaning and babysitting Carl so that the adults could get work done.

 You calling Rick “Ricky boy.” and Carl “Twerp” when he gets on your nerves. Lori calling you “sweetpea” and Carl calling you “Stinker” when you get on his nerves.

Dale

You were fifteen and Dale’s neighbour before all this. It was just you, your dad, and the family dog. When the shit started to fly Dale offered you all a place in his RV

Later on your father got bit while looking for the family dog who got away. Dale mercifully put your dad down so you didn’t have to.

You bringing Amy and Andrea back to Dale and the four of you creating your own little family unit.

Dale would show you how to fix up the RV when it acted up. You would scavenge cars for parts the could be repurposed since you were faster than Dale.

Dale giving you chores to keep you out of trouble in the camp and refusing to let you do runs into town.

You and Dale taking turns keeping watch on top of the RV.

You always being the one to look after Sofia and Carl when the adults need to go and do stuff. This leads yu into becoming the ultimate babysitter, coming up with games and chores to keep the younger kids out of trouble.

You staying behind with Dale to help look after T-Dog when everyone goes looking for Sofia.

Coming to the farm and Dale and being his little yes man/woman/person. Him calling you “Sport”, “Champ” and “Kiddo.”

When Dale was attacked by the walker you took the gun from Daryl, saying how Dale put your dad down and you should return the favour. Telling Dale your sorry for not protecting him like he had protected you.

Turning cold and inconsolable the days after his death, and only Glen and Andrea really approaching you.

Andrea(Continuation of Dale)

It was after Dale’s death. He had saved you in the begining and you were completely distraught because of it, closing yourself off from the rest of the group, only really moving between the fields and the house.

You kept up your chores around the farm and kept the RV clean. That’s what Dale would want.

You and Andrea talking about everything the two of you had gone through and you breaking down in her arms.

Her teaching you how to fire a gun. Dale wouldn’t have approved but you needed to know now.

You trying to make her see that Shane doesn’t truely care for her the same way she cared for him. She doesn’t want to see it so you don’t push.

You and her being together when the barn burns down, later meeting Michone. You beg Michone to help Andrea.

The three of you surviving the winter together, later being taken to Woodbury.

You and Andrea trying to get Michone to see that Woodbury is a good place.

You supporting Andrea in everything but her just wanting you to be a kid again.

Her calling you “Sport”, “Champ”, and “Kiddo”, like Dale used to.

Green Family(Hershal, Maggie, Beth)

You were 8 years old and Otis and Patricia’s kid. You had been living with the Green family for a while, trying to survive together quite well Hershal let you ride the horses and Maggie had you feeding the chickens. It was boring being the only kid there though.

The first time you seen a kid was when a man in a sherif uniform came in carrying a boy in his arms, saying he was shot. Hershal looked after him right away while you looked from the top of the stairs.

You give your favourite teddy bear to the mother of the shot boy, telling her that the soft toy makes you feel better when you're sick so hopefully it’ll make him feel better too.

You not liking Shane because your dad had come back every time he went out except for when he went out with Shane.

Lori picking you up and carrying you off the farm when it got taken over by walkers.

Beth and Maggie taking care of you during the 7 months on the road through the winter, singing you to sleep and telling you stories.

Herschel letting you sit in when he’s teaching Carol some basic medicine.

You and Carl didn’t get along that much cause he wanted to help the adults, not play with a little kid like you

Beth and you singing to baby judith in the Prison, always helping her take care of her when you weren’t taken up with chores and other business.

You being Hershal’s little medical assisstant, learning lots of valuable medical information and becoming a great help despite being so young

You eventually calling Hershal “Pops” after a while. Hershal calling you “Little Doc” and “trouble maker”. Beth and Maggie calling you “butthead” to get a rise out of you.

Dixon Family (Merle and Daryl)

You were ten and very good and moving through the crowds. You were too short and fast for a lot of the walkers to get a hold on you and your dad used that, making you go out to find food and supplies most of the time while he stayed holed up in your Atlanta apartment

You heard a man yell and you went to see what was going on. You found a man handcuffed to the roof with walkers trying to push the door down to get to him. He asked you to hand him the saw and you helped.

You brought Merle back to your Atlanta apartment, which your dad didn’t like so he beat you. It continued for a couple days where you’d go out and your dad would beat you for bringing back to little. One day Merle had enough and beat the shit out of your dad. The following morning your dad was gone.

You calling Merle “Mr. Merle.” and Merle calling you “kid.”

You believe everything Merle says because he swears he would never lie to you. He also teaches you how to track game in the woods. He also taught how to curse which made him laugh like crazy everytime you did.

You two getting picked up and going to Woodbury. You preferring to spend all your time with Merle instead of the other kids cause you think they’re stupid and weak and they bullied you cause you told them they were stupid and weak.

Merle and you spending all your free time at Woodbury’s library. Him reading to you. Him not minding you spending all your time with him since you reminded him so much of little Daryl. The two of you making a plan on how to escape Woodbury if it came to it.

The night the governor put Merle and his brother against each other you screamed at them to stop and cried, being held back by a woman. You cursed out the governor. When the smoke rose you grabbed a pistol off of one of the men and ran after Merle.

Staying with Merle and “Mr. Merle’s Brother” after Rick refuses to let Merle back. “You should go back with them, kid.” Merle would try to tell you. “I wanna stay with you, Mr Merle. Not that dickhead!”

Daryl became fond of you during the little time spent with just the three of you, especially how you had no fear of walkers and had no trouble letting himself and Merle know what you were thinking.

When you end up back at the prison you insist on staying outside the cell block with Merle. A woman named Carol came up to you “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather sleep in here on a proper bed?” she asked. “I ain’t repeating myself to you dumb bitch!”. The prison gang informally refers to you as Merle Jr., regardless of gender.

Williams Family (Sasha and Tyreese)

You were 9. Your parents had been part of the group but didn’t make it. Since then Tyreese and Sasha took care of you the most. They would give up their food so you could eat and Tyreese would carrying you when you got too tired to walk.

They would call you “Buddy” and “Boo”. You calling Tyreese “Reeses” because his name reminds you of the candy.

When you arrived in the prison you found yourself enamoured by Carl. He was a kid too and he was able to shoot a gun and kill walkers. You immediately went to Tyreese and begged him to teach you how to use a gun, which he would repeatedly refuse.

You being the only one that could get Sasha to calm down when she gets a little riled up. 

You thought Sasha’s hair was the coolest thing in the world when it wasn’t tied down and just in one big fro. Her letting you braid it and tie it up for her, mainly to keep you busy for a while since your smaller hands needed extra time to handle her curls.

Tyreese’s girlfriend Karen referring to the two of you as ‘Big and small’

You telling them about Lizzie and how she thinks the walkers are people, so they ban you from playing with her. 

You getting stuck with Tyreese and Carol after the prison falls and keeping a distance between yourself and Lizzie, becoming very protective of Judith whenever Tyreese isn’t around.

When Lizzie kills Mika, you throw yourself infront of Judith and yell at her to stay away, this prompts Carol and Tyreese to run to you. Tyreese takes you and Judith inside while Carol handles Lizzie. Tyreese consoles you while you cry, telling him how worried you were she was going to do something to Judith

At terminus when you, Judith, and Tyreese are left in the cabin with Martin. You stab Martin in the neck when he lunges for Judith. When Tyreese asks where you got the knife, you admit to taking it off of Lizzie’s corpse so you could better protect him and Judith.

Chambler Family (Tara, David, Lily, Meghann)

You were 7 and the Chambler’s were your neighbours. You went to school with Meghan so your families came together when the end came. One day your mom went out to gather supplies and never came back.

You and Meghan kept each other busy, playing games with each other, though you were louder than Meghan which made Tara give out to you a lot.

You and Meghan take turns playing backgammon with her grandfather. Later you take turns playing chess with ‘Brian’, and he teaches you two how to play against each other but you both prefer to play against him.

Lily trying her best to be a good mother figure for you, trying to keep some semblance of normalcy for you and Meghan.

When Philip takes you all to the camp you’re initially more recluse, being in another strange new situation. You find yourself clinging to Tara and her new girlfriend during this time, following them around the camp.

Tara calling you “Bubbles” cause you seem to pop up around her out of nowhere.

You being there when Meghan got attacked and running to get Lily. You silently follow her to the battlefield at the prison and watch as ‘Brian’ shoots her. You crawled into the back of one of the cars to try and escape the onslaught of bullets. 

Later you see Tara leaving the prison with an asian man and run after her. She’s shocked to see you there but picks you up and takes her with you, which the man readily agrees to.

Glen pitches that they should teach you how to fire a gun so that you can defend yourself. You get plenty of opportunity on the road and by the time you find Glen’s wife your a crack shot, much to the horror of the other survivors.

You sleeping in Tara’s lap every night because she’s the only family you have left.

The Governor

You were 13 when you met him. You had been on the road on your own since your mom turned. Your aunt had refused to put her sister down and ended up being attacked. You didn’t have it in you to put them down so you left them locked in the shop.

He had been with a group and when he found out you were on your own he offered to take you back to his town. You said you’d go if he put down your mom and aunt. “I’m not strong enough to do it and they don’t deserve to be left like that.”

They agreed and you led them to the store. There they put the two woman down and took the supplies. He didn’t realise how young you actually were until you got upset at the sight of your mother but he already promised to take you back and there was lots of supplies at the shop.

You becoming a Mini Governor to the kids of Woodbury and rallying the ones old enough to join the army. “The governor works hard to keep you safe, it’s about time you helped!”

You being privy to all of the governor’s shady dealings.

You being introduced to Penny. Him referring to her as “Your little sister.” You being initially shocked but later being okay with it. You finding pretty hair pins and taking toys back to the governor for “When Penny gets better.”

You being able to boss around The Governor’s men as much as you want.

Andrea often being asked to keep an eye on you, but you actually being the one to keep an eye on her.

You and The Governor being left for dead then going back to Woodbury, buring it down in temper. You both survive together alone for months until he sees Meghan Chamber. Him telling you to stay put while he checks it out and to leave if he doesn’t come back.

He never comes back and you’re left alone again.

Father Gabriel

You were 14 when you went to the church. Your foster home had been over run and you were in desperate need for some spiritual help. You arrived just as he had returned from one of his walks. He said you could stay as all of god’s children deserved shelter.

You being too afraid to open the doors to let others in incase Gabriel says you can’t remain, so you sit in the back office with your hands over your ears. Every morning you go and pray for forgiveness

You being the one to run into town for supplies because you want to protect Gabriel and keep him alive. 

Being apprehensive when the survivors arrive, only lowering your guard a little when Gabriel explains how he saved him.

You reading the bible and learning to quote the scripture, mainly out of boredom then anything else. You and Gabriel getting into discussions on what each passage actually means.

You learning about Gabriel sneaking out of the church but not telling the other survivors. “If we need to get away from them it’ll be good to have,” you admitted.

You and Gabriel often talking about what the lord thinks of your actions, ultimately not being able to comfort each other much. 

You often defend Gabriel infront of the other survivors, not letting them get away with speaking any kind of ill towards him.

You only really disagree with Gabriel when he sells out the group to Deanna. This leads to you two having a big argument, him defending that Rick’s group are murderers and you defending that they have kept you safe. You ultimately lose your loyalty to him and stick with Rick’s group for a while.

When a herd surrounds Alexandria you reunite with Gabriel. You both beg the other for forgiveness. “You were a father to me when you didn’t need to be and I-” you began, your voice breaking. Gabriel held you close. “What matters is that we are together now, my child.”

Gabriel asking for your help to assist Rick in clearing out the walkers and you jumping to his side. The two of you drawing strength from each other.

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters: Prologue

As promised, here is the prologue for the series. 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder reference, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Board | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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

(This gif is not mine)

Prologue: Get It Together!

She was gonna do it. Yes, of course, she was. She had finished college, gotten a doctorate, taken down an armed serial killer, been held hostage and now she worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, one of the most exclusive and hard to join teams in the FBI, so of course she could do this! Yet here she was, breathing heavily as she tried to press the button, it was now or never.

Maybe never?

No! She couldn't be afraid anymore, she had to do it. She was twenty-eight years old, she couldn't just... But what if her age was the reason this was pathetic? No! She had to do it, she had to do it. There was no turning back, if her family found out about this she would be humiliated (yet again). She couldn’t just say that at her age she had fallen so low. She had to cover it up, there was no other way. But what if they found out anyway? No, she couldn’t allow such a thing.

Breathe.

"Are you okay?" The voice of her coworker made her jump and almost drop her phone. She locked the screen and turned to look at him. He seemed confused at her reaction, but she simply fixed her hair as if it was any other Monday and what she was doing was perfectly normal.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." He pointed out. That was Spencer Reid, always kind, always honest. His brown hair was a curly mess and his brown eyes stared at her intently as he fixed his navy tie, he was wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress pants, definitely not the attire she imagined ever seeing from the sweater-loving resident genius at the BAU, however, she resisted the urge to comment, instead focusing on the issue at hand.

"Thank you, what all girl wants to hear." She debated whether it was worth telling him or not. While she and the other Doctor on the team weren’t necessarily good friends, being held hostage together and taking a beating to prevent him from being killed creates a certain bond between people, so she decided to attempt and share her situation. “I was trying to... Ugh, this is so embarrassing." She placed her head in her hands, lamenting every second of her miserable life.

"I don't know, maybe if you tell me it'll be less embarrassing?" He asked.

He was trying to be helpful; she knew he was, and she appreciated that more than anything, but it was hard to share how low she had fallen despite her age and position. She knew if someone would listen and not make fun of her it would be the man sitting at the desk across from hers, but she just couldn’t phantom saying it out loud. Then again, he was a genius, and he was not known for his successful love life, so maybe, just maybe he would understand the situation better?

"I accidentally told my annoying cousin that I was dating someone and now I have to bring my boyfriend to her stupid wedding."

"So? How is that embarrassing?"

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Why did you say you did? How do you accidentally tell someone you have a boyfriend when you don't?" She knew he wasn't making fun of her, that he was genuinely perplexed, but that knowledge didn't help subside her irritation.

"I only said it because she kept ranting about how I was gonna die alone and she was better than me..." She looked at him, his brow raised. "Okay, maybe she didn't say it exactly like that, but the intention was clear!" She cleared hair out of her face and continued, "Anyway, because I clearly do not have a significant other, I thought that if I hired someone to be my boyfriend during the wedding, it might be less painful?"

"You decided that the best way to solve your problem, of lying to your annoying cousin about your love life was hiring a fake boyfriend?" She looked at him, and a small smile played on his lips. "How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't! But I'm out of options here and I don't know what to do!" Her leg started bouncing as she bit her lip. "The wedding is this weekend, and I will die before I admit I lied to bitchy Anna!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Spencer Reid, you have no idea how far I'll go to shut bitchy Anna up!"

"Who's bitchy Anna?" Another voice said as Emily Prentiss, a tall woman with clear skin and dark short hair made her way to them. She was wearing a white dress shirt with a matching black blazer and dress pants, her small heels making a click-clack noise as she walked. If only she could have the confidence and stamina of Emily Prentiss, she would not be in this mess. Though she couldn’t daydream of being the woman in front of them too much after hearing Spencer’s words.

"Her cousin to whom she lied about dating someone. Consequently forcing her to now look for a fake boyfriend for hire." Spencer spoke as if nothing was weird about the whole situation.

"Why don't you just take Reid? It's not like he has plans, right?" She suggested as an amused smile played on her lips.

She didn't even have time to be mad at the man for spilling out her most embarrassing secret like it was nothing, because Emily's words made her perk up. She turned to him and he quickly shook his head.

"No, there is no way. I hate weddings, and parties in general."

"You owe me!" She argued.

"What? I don't owe you anything!" He defended himself.

"Of course you do, you told Emily something I confided in you!"

"You didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to say anything!"

"Spencer, please, I will do anything you want in order to make bitchy Anna eat her words." She placed her most convincing puppy face and looked at him. This face never failed, on anybody. She had mastered the art at age five and from then on the only thing it couldn’t get her was a normal family. Actually, scratch that, it never really worked after she became ten and Anna had also mastered it, but she was hoping this would be an exception.

"No."

Well, she had already embarrassed herself enough, so what was more begging in the great scheme of things?

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me! I'm just asking you to pretend to be in love with me for one day."

"Be careful, that's how a lot of love stories begin," Prentiss said teasingly as she winked at the pair.

"Come on, I will give you money, I will drive you to work for a month. Whatever you want, it's yours." She said, "and Prentiss, this is the real world, not some cheesy love story. Spencer and I are much too mature for those silly things."

"No, I'm mature enough to know better. You just offered anything I want on a silver platter so I can pretend to be your boyfriend at your cousin's wedding. Let that sink in for a minute." He said as his smile grew wider, an idea clearly appearing in his mind. "Let me see, how about, a whole year of rides to work and coffee, for 24 hours of being the fake love of my life."

"Deal." She stretched her hand to shake on it and he looked at her, slightly offended. "Sorry, I forgot. I will make sure to wash my hands more times than necessary and wear gloves all week because you do have to hold my hand during the wedding, couples do that."

"Real couples do that, and it's not very hygienic."

"Well, for Saturday we will be a fake real couple, so let that sink in for a minute." She said as she triumphantly left the scene. She was making her way to the elevator, until she remembered she couldn’t really leave as she had arrived only thirty minutes ago, and her shift was not over until five. She fixed her hair and walked back to her desk as if she hadn’t just embarrassed herself in front of two of her coworkers and continued her paperwork. She heard a laugh from Emily’s desk and didn’t even bother to look up. She had figured out her plan and now she just hoped it would not explode in her face, so a few laughs from her coworker were worth the trouble.

Truth be told, there was a much bigger reason she needed to have someone at the wedding, but Spencer and Emily didn't need to know that. They didn’t need to know why she was willing to feed Spencer Reid’s addiction to coffee and his hate for driving for a whole year rather than tell her cousin she was still single.

Before she knew it, the weekend had arrived and she was in her car, a two-door gray Scion she had very proudly named Matthew when she bought him last June, and she made her way to Spencer's complex. She waited for him in her car after letting him know she was outside. She took the time to look at her now straight hair and her barely visible make-up. She knew blue was Anna’s favorite color, as it was also hers, so she made sure to wear a turquoise dress for her wedding, this was going to be a productive night, for sure.

"Hello, darling." He said as he buckled his seat belt. He was wearing a black suit with a tie that matched her dress, provided by her. His hair was lazily pushed back, giving his fluffy curls volume. She wondered what it would be like to touch it? Spencer would never allow it; he loved his hair way too much.

"We are gonna have the time of our lives, babe." She winked at him and began driving to the venue.

Of course, Anna would use the same venue she had been wishing for her wedding because it wouldn't be Anna if she couldn't have absolutely everything she ever wanted and more. The woman didn't know how long ago this passive-aggressive feud between the two had begun but she'd be damned if she let her cousin beat her at it. She pulled Spencer by the arm gently as she made her way to their table, which was front and center, granting her cousin the ability to see who she had brought along.

"If it isn't my favorite cousin!" She exclaimed. The girl fought the urge to roll her eyes. "And who might this be?"

"Anna, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. Babe, this is my cousin, Anna."

"Anna, newly Hemingway." She emphasized her last name. As she reached to stretch his hand, but he simply waved. "Pleasure." She said as she retracted her hand and looked him up and down. It was only natural for her to do such a thing. "So cousin, have you heard that the family retreat has a date?" She exclaimed with excitement. "It's in about two weeks. You two obviously coming, right?"

"We actually have a retreat, with our team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit." She said, already looking for a way out, Spencer nodded in agreement.

“What a shame,” Her cousin said with faked empathy. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened two years ago, does it?”

She was out of words, of course she would bring it up. Because of that incident she had convinced her mother to not force her to go last year and it was definitely the reason she was not going this year either, but the fact that Anna knew that got to her. She was ready to go home and cry of embarrassment once again. She had done it. Anna had won with one single question.

“Actually, I didn’t want to say anything hon, because it was a surprise,” Spencer spoke for the first time. “Aaron Hotchner, our boss, said that if I could memorize the whole itinerary, which I obviously can thanks to my eidetic memory and IQ of 187, that I could simply share the notes with you and we can take the weekend off since we are his favorites anyway. I was planning on a much more romantic evening than some family retreat but if your cousin is so determined to have us go, we shall be there.” He smiled at the bride, his amusement not so subtle at her reaction.

“You found a keeper,” Anna said, moving some blonde strands of hair from her face. “Anyway, I have to say hello to some guests, but I will see you two lovebirds later.” Her white dress got caught under her heel making her cousin almost fall, but this last one continued as if nothing happened.

"Thank you." She said as she squeezed his hand gently, realizing they were still linked. A whole thirty minutes, that had to be a record for him.

"Don’t thank me, now I understand why you call her bitchy Anna.” They both chuckled at the comment.

“I will call the day of the retreat and say you came down with the flu or something.” She assured him.

“No, I am definitely coming.”

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"Because," He began, "in the time I've known you I've never seen you let anyone walk over you, or make you feel less. Remember when we met?" She chuckled at the thought. "I didn't appreciate the public embarrassment, but I gained a lot of respect for you. It was hard watching you let her talk to you like that and make you feel less. You are not less." He assured her as he looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "You are an amazing agent and friend. I bet you're a great daughter and a reliable family member. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. If it wasn't for you, we would have never survived that day, I will never forget that. So, I will go with you, and I will be the best boyfriend your family has ever seen, and bitchy Anna can suck it."

She laughed at his comment and he joined. Boy, was she glad Spencer was here with her. Even if they had never been the closest of friends, she valued his opinion, and she was glad it was such a positive one. She wished this was the beginning of an actual friendship between the two.

"Honey!" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts, as she approached them

"Oh no." She mumbled, confusing Spencer. "Babe, get ready. You're about to meet my mom." She apologized with her eyes and turned to the bubbly woman that approached them. "Hello, mother." She said as the dark-haired woman with tan skin and stiletto heels that should be illegal reached her, giving her a tight hug. Her red dress matched the infernal shoes and a necklace of pearls adorned her neck.

"Who might this handsome fella be?"

"Mom, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mother." Before he could say anything she was already squishing his cheeks followed by the woman planting a kiss on each side of his face. "You are handsome, I bet my grandchildren will be gorgeous!"

"Mom!" She exclaimed embarrassed.

"What? Don't tell me you're not planning on marrying this hunk? He's a keeper, I can tell."

"You also said that about Tyler." She regretted the comment instantly, the reason being that she didn't need anybody else to know of that embarrassing story.

"Yeah well, aren't you glad you aren't with him anymore?" She said as if public humiliation was something to appreciate. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Two years."

"A year." She responded as she heard Spencer answer at the same time. "He means that he's liked me for two years, but we only went on our first date a year ago, a year after my breakup with Tyler."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Oh, well. I always thought you would be Mrs. Tyler Hemingway, but Mrs. Spencer Reid sounds so much better!"

"It's doctor." They both corrected.

"Even better!" After that, she walked off without saying another word.

"That's your fake mother-in-law dude... She's something else." She sighed with relief at her mother's easily distracted personality.

"Did she say, Hemingway? As in-"

"Yes, as in my cousin's new husband." She cut him off. "The same one that two years ago told me in front of most of my family that he was in love with my cousin and left me heartbroken and humiliated. That same Tyler Hemingway."

"I'm sorry."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" She heard his voice call her and she immediately tensed, Spencer noticed this and moved towards her.

"I am also sorry for what I am about to do, but it will make sense soon." He said as he let go of her hand and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her for a kiss as her ex-boyfriend now turned cousin-in-law watched, perplexed.

When someone describes a fake kiss, it is usually romantic. First comes the surprise, and then immediate compliance, but she was so confused Spencer had to basically squish her cheeks to make her close her eyes and for her to realize what he was doing. She followed suit and kissed him back, still unable to form a coherent thought. It was not like Spencer Reid was a bad kisser, if she had to rate it, it would have been the best kisser she had ever encountered, but the situation that had created such a kiss did not provide for her enjoyment. Not that she wanted to enjoy it, this was her coworker turned accomplice and hopefully actual friend, not someone she was necessarily attracted to, even though she could admit that he was a handsome man. That was not something weird, even Jennifer Jareau, JJ, their friend, and coworker had said it once or twice. You can admit someone is handsome or beautiful without being attracted, everybody knew that.

The cough coming from Tyler Hemingway made Spencer let go of her, as soon as he did he winked at her and moved a strand of hair behind her ear, subtly stabilizing her and covering her shocked face until it dissipated.

“I thought you weren’t one for PDA,” The groom asked. His black tuxedo and white dress shirt made him look handsome, his black hair was pulled back and his blue eyes observed them intently.

“PDA?”

“Public Demonstration of Affection.” She clarified. “Tyler, have you seen this man next to me? How could I not want to kiss him every minute of the day.”

“And this woman has me craving for her touch.”

“Lovely.” The man responded with anything but love for them. “I just wanted to say hi and apologize, I hope you did not mind the venue Anna chose.”

“Me? Why would I mind?” She laughed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She felt Spencer’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, even though she hadn't noticed he moved. His head rested on her shoulder, leaving small kisses on her cheeks. Who was this man and what did he do with Spencer Reid?

“I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but when she and I get married it would have to be a much larger venue, with a different layout. I mean, this venue is cute, but this beautiful woman could outshine it just in pajamas.” He smiled at the man and turned his attention to her. “I keep telling you love: stop thinking small, you are a queen among peasants and deserve nothing but the best. Anyone who can’t see the level of woman you are is simply an idiot.”

This was the moment she was ready to marry Spencer Reid and never let him go, just for the satisfaction of seeing Tyler’s face at his comment. She would forever be grateful to Emily Prentiss for suggesting she ask him.