#but there’s no way I was redoing that after already spending 5 hours on it

[porkbeverage]

[auspicioustidings]

Flinch

Summary: You thought you would die trying the day you tried to escape your abusive husband, but destiny has other plans. Words: 5.2k TWs: domestic abuse, rape

(I read this book months ago, forgot all about it and today it burrowed into my head again and I assume caused this so if you wanna read a good version of this concept I'd recommend it!)

You would die trying today. You had to. 

The 20 week scan had been yesterday and while your husband was away on a work trip he would return this evening. You knew your bodyguard had already told him that the baby inside you was a girl. He did not want a girl. You shook at the memory of when he left 3 days ago.

He had taken you on your hands and knees, no less cruel in how he did it than before you were pregnant, and told you about how his son would be his legacy. His hot, wet breath had been in your ear as he spilled inside of you. You’d better give me a son, wife. If you misbehave and grow a female I’ll need to fuck myself into your womb to get rid of the little slut and try again.

The baby had saved you the most severe beatings the last 4 months, but your husband found other ways to torture you. You could barely even look at your guard anymore knowing that he had been witness to the week your husband had made you spend in an open room penned in by glass. It had been a luxurious prison cell where everybody could see your every move, the bathroom facilities not hidden from view at all and your body on full display. He said it was so they could make sure you were healthy and happy during your pregnancy and then he had fucked your arse in front of his men and smacked you hard across the cheek when he was finished for being such a cry baby. 

He would certainly beat you black and blue for failing to bear him a son. But you didn’t really care about that, you had agreed to be his wife 6 years ago when you were 17 and thought he had hung the stars. But this baby who at first you had hated you had come to love. He would kill her. He would kill any of her sisters after her. You could take any punishment he gave you, maybe you’d get lucky and he’d finally kill you, but your daughter deserved a chance to live. 

So you would do something you had not done since your 3rd attempt 5 years ago had ended with broken ribs, a broken nose and a concussion that had made you dizzy and sick for months after. You were going to try and leave. 

It would be difficult. Your guard was loyal to your husband and never flinched at his treatment of you, so you did not expect help from him. Your left leg hadn’t quite healed right after it had been hurt a few weeks ago during a particularly rough fulfilment of your marital duties so you couldn’t put weight on it very well. 

Plus you knew you were ugly now. Your eyes had sunken in and were smudged underneath with purple from too many sleepless nights. One side of your face was mottled with bruises. The rest of your body was too thin but for your protruding stomach and covered in marks. You remembered your father yelling at you about beauty being the only thing women were worth when you were a child. Your parents had been happy when you got engaged to such a wealthy man and you had not heard from them since the day they handed you over. You had been pretty then. You wondered how disgusted your father would be with how you looked now. He certainly wouldn’t help you in such a state.

There wasn’t much time. Your guard was stuck to your side but for one hour in the afternoon where you were expected to thoroughly clean yourself and prepare yourself for your husband's return. The rules of that never changed regardless of your condition. You would spend the hour making yourself perfect, your holes clean and ready, your skin soft and fragrant, your hair braided how he liked it and a thin nightgown perfectly draping on your body. If he found fault with you then you could expect a great deal of pain before he brought in his men to redo the whole process. It was not pleasant when they did it. 

The fear made your mouth dry. Not only would you be punished for trying to escape, but you would be found lacking in your appearance and preparation and that would carry its own punishment. You could not do this.

A kick from your daughter argued that you could and it spurred you into action. This was it, your last chance to save her. 

–

“I’m gaggin’ for a pint.”

Ghost snorted a laugh.

“You’re always gagging for something Johnny” he quipped, Gaz elbowing Soap teasingly while Price just rolled his eyes from behind the wheel.

“You’ll behave back there. This truck has a no gagging on anything rule in place. Bunch of bloody moppets” he barked.

The Captain was mostly just glad to be heading back home. Some therapist would have a field day with him considering home to be a small off-the-record safe house on the edges of a tiny fishing village, but then he was sure they would quit long before he had gotten to that part with the amount of shite he had been through. 

His team had their own flats dotted around the UK, but they seemed to prefer to spend most of their down time together in the safe house. Maybe one day they would all admit that the safe house was just their actual house now, but it was unlikely to be anytime soon. It was still spartan after all, looking drab from the outside and as regimented and dull as any other military base on the inside. Not really homey. Garrick had sincerely attempted to start a little vegetable garden last year but it had been a resounding failure, meaning the little cottage was surrounded by weeds that choked the path. At this point the locals probably thought it was haunted. 

It was still a long way off. Two more hours to base where they could switch out the army issued truck for his own modern and well kept pick up and MacTavish’s frankly ridiculous little hatchback that should really not be able to handle the country roads leading to the safe house but was somehow still kicking. He swore he was some sort of car witch.

“Don’t worry Captain, I’m too classy to have a gag reflex!” Gaz shouted over to him with Soap snickering in the background.

“That right? Lieutenant.”

Price laughed at the carnage happening in the back of the truck as Ghost pounced on Gaz and tried to shove fingers down his throat to get him to gag while Soap took Gaz’s side as he almost always did when it came to a fight with Ghost and tried to fight him off. The rough housing in the back at least kept them occupied for a little bit while Price lit up a cigar.

He wasn’t paying as much attention to the road as he ought to, but then this stretch of road was almost always empty. They were more or less in the middle of nowhere, the nearest civilisation being some fancy gated community out past the right side of the forest this road cut through. 

Only 5 hours to go now and at least 3 of those would be done in his much more comfortable truck with climate control and not this tin can. 

Ghost chuckled as Johnny grabbed at Gaz’s top, trying to pull him back into the truck as Ghost was shoving him out. Poor Gaz’s top half was dangling precariously out the back and he could barely breathe through the wheezing laughter. Ghost was someone with fast instincts, so he felt Gaz tense and was immediately on guard even before the man yelled out and started scrambling to launch himself out of the back of the truck and onto the road before Price had a chance to properly stop the thing. 

“Stop the truck!”

“Bloody hell, Garrick get your arse back in here!” Price yelled and cursed as he brought the truck to a stop a little ahead of where Gaz had jumped out.

Ghost had a hand locked around Soap’s nape, the Lieutenant knowing if he didn’t keep the man grounded he would be out of this truck and by Gaz’s side without even stopping to check for danger. Price trusted him enough that he stayed put, watching the two of them who were watching out the back to see what Garrick did.

–

There was a man on the road. You were so sore and so tired, your adrenaline nearly exhausted. You had gotten so close, the road was right there. But he was one of your husband's you thought. Not one you recognised, but the casual clothes with military gear was just like your guards. 

The choice now was how hard to fight. It hardly felt like you could fight anymore, but somewhere in the woods you had made the decision that you were not going back. Better you die with your daughter than allow her to die alone. You hoped this man was ruthless and efficient about it, that he made this quick. You had to make sure he killed you. You were not going back. 

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Kyle and I can help. Are you hurt?”

He sounded painfully kind and that felt unfair. It had been so long since you had been afforded kindness, why now? Maybe this was your last meal. 

“I- I won’t go back” you said, screwing up your courage and trying to stand as straight and strong as you could with the exhaustion and pain blanketing your body. 

The man slowly moved one hand to take off his cap while the other was stretched open in front of him. He was showing you he wasn’t armed you thought as his cap was put on the ground and he raised his other hand to show it was also empty and crouched a little lower than his full height. 

“Ok, I’m not going to make you go back anywhere. I just want to help” he said, gentle.

Throughout the years you had learned not to trust. When you were 10 and your mother had promised you a birthday party but then spent the money on a night out to the pub for her and your father instead. When you got your first period and you asked your father what you should do but he just smacked you for telling him something so disgusting. When your husband promised he would be gentle on your wedding night and it wouldn’t hurt, but he broke both promises. When a maid promised to help you escape but instead told your guard your plan. Your husband had fucked her in front of you while you were laying unable to move from the beating. You had never seen him be so gentle.

You so wanted to trust someone and not have it backfire. Just once. Just enough to give you some hope that your daughter could have a good life with people who would look out for her. But when he shuffled a little closer you flinched and stepped back. It was too hard to try and trust him. 

The movement put you more in the dappled early evening sunlight. It would be dark soon. 

– 

Kyle fought to keep himself relaxed even when the light revealed what he had missed before. The scared woman in front of him was pregnant. Couldn’t have been very far along with how small she was. Her face was a mess of bruises. He wanted to hunt down whatever useless piece of shit had done this to her. 

But he had to stay calm for her sake. He couldn’t start demanding information when he hadn't even managed to get close enough to examine her. He needed to get her far away from the danger first, get her medical attention and then get justice once she was happy and healthy and safe. 

It also needed to be quick. This was a woman who was running, so it stood to reason there was somebody chasing. But how did he convince her to get into a truck with a bunch of armed strangers?

She startled, looking like she had seen… ah fuck, Ghost had hopped out of the truck and walked over.

“You know how to use a gun?” he asked her, almost casual despite the grit behind it.

She shook her head and her eyes widened as Ghost lifted his sidearm into his hands. Kyle thought perhaps his Lieutenant had lost his damn mind when he started calmly explaining the basics of the gun before stepping forward, putting it on the ground and stepping back again.

“Sergeant, back up” he ordered and Kyle reluctantly took a few steps back. “You need help and we can give it. You pick up that gun, get in the truck and if any of us touches you without your permission you point and shoot. We’re about two hours out from a military base, there’s a doctor there who can check you over, make sure the baby is ok.”

Maybe Ghost was a genius or maybe he was a maniac, but then it wasn’t the first time he had flirted with that line. Kyle watched the woman hesitantly move forward. She reminded him of a little mouse approaching a piece of cheese. When she got close enough she darted suddenly and grabbed the gun, holding it up to them. Her arms were shaking.

He was used to the sounds of a bullet firing by now, but he still felt himself jump when she fired out into the woods on the other side of them.

“Y-you actually gave me a loaded gun?” she said breathlessly, seeming almost outraged that Ghost would truly do such a thing. Kyle sympathised.

“You feel better?” Ghost answered, nodding his head to the truck where Soap was watching with rapt attention. 

“...yes” the woman said before walking (although he noted it was more limping) over to the truck and letting Ghost help her in only after trying herself and realising she wouldn’t be able to hop up and keep ahold of the gun at the same time. 

–

The man in the skull mask didn’t ask any questions and he seemed entirely nonplussed about the gun pointed at him as the eerily silent truck took off. The other two in the back seemed nervous and the man driving hadn’t interacted with you at all, instead keeping his attention on the road. 

Skull mask made a call and his voice sounded like a shout with how quiet it was.

“I need you at Stirling Lines in 2 hours… yeah, needs to be you for this… send me the standard form and I’ll get the answers over to you… she doesn’t need delicate from me, she needs help… thanks for this, see you then.”

The one that shared a bench on your side with the mohawk looked increasingly alarmed at the conversation. 

“LT…” he started, some worried warning in his tone. 

The LT ignored him, looked at his phone and then looked up to you after seemingly finding what he was looking for. 

“Name, gender and birth date?”

“I… what?”

“Jesus Christ LT!”

“I need to get information for the nurse I have meeting us at base” the LT said, ignoring the mohawk man’s outrage and staring at you with those unsettling eyes sunken behind the mask. “The questions are going to be invasive. The exam is going to be worse and it’s going to take hours.”

“That’s enough Lieutenant” the man driving hissed, only to be equally as ignored as the Lieutenant's eyes stayed on you.

“Get through it. Get through it to spite the bastard.”

You felt a flutter of panic try to take hold. Your adrenaline was gone so it was hard to even feel that, but he thought… they all thought you had been raped. 

“It’s not… I’m married” you said by way of explanation. 

The atmosphere was tense, but after you said that there was a distinct feeling of sadness coming from mohawk and Kyle, a feeling of pity. The skull mask had no such pity emanating from him. 

“He told you that because you’re married you couldn’t say no. Reinforced that. It’s brainwashing and you can break that. It wasn’t marriage they used as a reason for me, but they tried to brainwash me to think I consented to it just the same. I didn’t and neither did you. Spite the bastard.”

Nobody else spoke for the next 2 hours but you and the man in the skullmask. He asked questions and you answered them. At the start you took time to answer, hesitant from the humiliation coursing through you and making you feel sick. An hour in and you had no emotions left to give, only cold answers that floated through the truck and hung in the air like the twisted body of the saviour had hung on your bedroom wall, watching and judging. 

By the time the truck was pulling through to a base you felt rinsed of everything, numb. The only shred of warmth came from the hand holding yours and you could not remember exactly when the man with the mohawk had put it there. 

–

“Simon…”

“It’s not like you hadn’t read my file sir.”

Price had read his file. He knew what Roba had done to this man. It didn’t make it any less jarring to hear his Lieutenant say it out loud in the back of a damn truck with a strange beaten woman and his two Sergeants who until now had no real idea of his past.

“You solid?” he asked, not wanting to push him to talk about anything he didn’t want to. 

“I’m angry.”

He knew that from Simon’s record too. It had taken a while for him to be cleared after Roba because he was so angry all the time, his aggression too volatile for even the military. This whole situation was bringing up old wounds in his Lieutenant and he was lost with what to do about it. 

“Lieutenant Riley” came a call from the nurse finally leaving the exam room. She had an American accent, Southern. He suspected she was probably the one who saw Simon after Roba considering that had been in Texas.

“Appreciate you coming on short notice” Simon replied with a nod of thanks. 

“Consider it payback for getting me my visa. No point in mincing words, it’s bad.”

“Consider it a matter of national security” Price said.

Technically he shouldn’t be told anything about the state of the woman in that exam room without her consent, but then it would not be the first time he got around GDPR citing national security. The nurse was clearly versed in how the military worked and handed over the clipboard she was holding. Simon read along with him over his shoulder.

“Bleeding Christ. She’s 21 weeks?” he asked, shocked.

“Long term malnutrition. She wasn’t given any control over her food. They gave her enough to keep her alive, but nowhere near healthy.”

“This…” Simon started, looking at the results from the x-rays.

“Consistent with prolonged torture. Some of the breaks never healed right. She’s still healing from a fracture and some ligament tearing in the left leg, a few broken ribs and a crack in her orbital bone. She said he had been more careful with her since finding out she was pregnant.”

Price swore loudly. He saw plenty of civilian casualties. He had caused the deaths of innocent people in the pursuit of saving other innocents. He was no stranger to evil. But this wasn’t a terrorist attack. It wasn’t a hostage in a facility. The woman was just an ordinary person who was being tortured for no large cause, not for the advancement of some twisted doctrine. She was being tortured for the crime of being a wife.

“Can you keep it off record?” 

He was a bit taken aback that Simon was asking that. Surely they wanted this on record? But then he followed that action to its conclusion. They found her near a community that very rich people lived in, it followed that this husband had money to spare. They would know she was missing by now and they would know the radius of where she could have reached by car or train. 

The second she was admitted to a hospital as a malnourished and beaten pregnant woman she would go missing. He wouldn’t trust the police as far as he could throw them to protect a domestic abuse victim when the perpetrator was rich and powerful enough to track her down and pay them off. The military wasn’t any better. Hell he knew of monsters in his own department who would insist on taking her for a spin before handing her over. 

“I’ll talk with her” he said, Simon giving him a grateful nod. 

Somehow he needed to convince that woman that she was coming to the safehouse with them until they could deal with her husband along with every single one of his accomplices. They wouldn’t make it to prison.

–

You wanted so badly to sleep but the alarm in your head wouldn’t let you. You couldn’t possibly be safe. You were never safe. 

The nurse had been kind in her examination. She said this was specifically what she was trained for, that you were not alone. Others had been through this and survived. Others had went on to have brilliant and bright lives while their attackers had turned into insignificant, small creatures in their memories. You still found it hard to think of your husband as your attacker. All you had known growing up was that the man of the household owned the women in it and it was his prerogative how he handled them.

You hadn’t been allowed to shower first even though you wanted to. It was strange to think that it was deemed lucky that you weren’t permitted to shower outside of your hour preparation time and that you hadn’t been given that hour since your husband had last used you for his pleasure. He knew you desperately hated having to lay with his spend inside of you. You had begged your guard to let you clean up properly before getting your ultrasound, but he had only smiled as he said no. Of course he had. He was well versed in experiencing your humiliation and your husband was well versed in creating situations for him to do so. 

It was painful when she had examined you internally. She told you that it shouldn’t be, that you associated penetration with pain now so your body was seizing up making the speculum feel much worse than it normally would. She apologised, said that was something that wouldn’t happen forever once you got healthier and knew you were safe. You could hardly believe it when she told you sex wasn’t supposed to hurt for women.

You hadn’t thought you were capable of it after today, but you still cried when she did the ultrasound. There she was, still alive and well. You wanted to tell her it would be ok now, that you had done it, you had gotten away and she would be safe. But it didn’t seem real.

The exam had taken such a long time. Your clothes had been taken from you and the thin gown did nothing to make you feel less exposed. She wanted to take the bank notes stuffed into your pocket as well, promising that they would be replaced, but you had begged to keep them and she had let you. The MRI wasn’t mentioned when the nurse had first explained everything, but part way through she had asked if it would be ok for one to be taken. She made sure that you didn’t have to interact with anyone else but her which calmed you a little. 

Now you were alone. She told you that she would let you gather your thoughts and then a shower and clothes could be organised.

You needed to figure out your next move. £410 wasn’t a lot of money, but it would have to be enough to get your daughter somewhere safe. You could work. Your last job had been as a waitress when you were a teenager, but you were good at cooking and cleaning and willing to learn just about anything so you were determined you would find something. You didn’t have much choice. 

There was a knock at the door and you told them to come in. Your voice sounded awful, scratchy and hoarse. 

It was not the nurse. 

The man from the front of the car didn’t look at you unkindly, but it did not stop you from flinching as he stepped towards you. You wished you hadn’t let Kyle take the gun from you when you arrived. 

He immediately stopped and showed his hands just like Kyle had on the road. 

“My name is Captain John Price, the men in the truck are my team. You’ve been brave today and I know it’s been hard. I can get you a shower and some hot food, how does that sound?”

You felt yourself shrivel and shrink. A shower with him. You hated being in a shower with your husband, he always forced you to your knees. Whenever he gave you a chance to breathe it was only under the high pressure spray of the water and it made you feel like you were suffocating. He liked that. 

Could you get on your knees for this man? If it was for your daughter, if it kept her safe, then yes. It wasn’t so bad was it? You had survived worse. It was just your mouth. 

You stood shakily and nodded, eyes fixed on the ground as you picked up the bank notes on the side table and held them tightly in your hand. 

“Where did that come from?”

“I…” you started, taking a moment to try and think of a lie before giving in to the mental exhaustion and just telling the truth. “I stole it from my guard’s wallet.”

“Atta girl.”

The praise made your ears feel hot. You had half expected to be arrested on the spot, but the man, Captain John Price, just started leading you out of the room and down the hall to the showers. 

“Soap, that’s the moppet with the mohawk from the truck, volunteered some of his things. He’s a bit of a peacock, so there should be everything you need. It’s a communal shower but I’ll stand guard at the door for you so nobody will come in. You can lock the door, but if I knock I need you to answer so I can confirm you’re ok. Towels are here, clothes here. We don’t have anything for maternity so we’ve guessed on what size will fit.”

You were taken aback. He wasn’t going to be in here with you. You didn’t need to service him. Your grip tightened around the cash in your hand before loosening as you looked at it. 

“Don’t even think about it. You don’t owe anyone here a damn thing. Go shower.”

With that he left. You locked the door and waited for 10 minutes to see if he would unlock it from the other side and come in. He only knocked once and when you responded that you were fine he was silent again. 

Satisfied that at least you didn’t think he would come in you stripped off and finally had a shower. The hair products and shower gel left by Soap (you thought that was a funny coincidence) smelled nice, like pine and maybe a hint of something sweet. Your husband only ever let you use things with a heavy smell of roses.

The nurse had asked what you meant by preparing yourself when you mentioned that you hadn’t done so and escaped instead. She told you that you didn’t need to do that here, but then there wasn’t any of the equipment you were used to anyway. It felt luxurious in a way, to clean yourself just for yourself. 

The next time Captain Price knocked and you confirmed that you were ok, he kept speaking with you. 

“I would like you to come with me and my team. We are heading to a safehouse a few hours from here and it’ll be the safest place for you to recover. You would have your own room with a lock on the door.”

You were glad nobody could see the way your face screwed up in some grotesque mixture of fear, confusion and, worst of all, hope. 

“I… have money. I can pay rent.”

“...ok.”

He sounded somewhat reluctant to accept that but you couldn’t not pay for this. You would constantly be waiting for one of them to collect in some other way if you didn’t give them cash. 

You touched your stomach, silently asking your daughter if it was ok to trust this man. She gave a kick. 

–

Johnny didn’t think he had ever seen anyone so fragile. She had fought it Price had said, but eventually their new housemate had fallen into an exhausted sleep in the passenger seat of his truck. 

When they arrived it had been him who bundled her in his arms and carried her to bed. God she was so small for someone who was supposed to be halfway through a pregnancy.

He had watched her since Gaz had jumped out of that truck. She had flinched then, she had flinched when Si got out of the truck, she had flinched when Price had went into the room (he probably shouldn’t have been hiding out in the hallway watching through the open door, but he just couldn’t stop himself). 

She hadn’t flinched at all when he threaded his fingers through hers in the truck. Her hand was so tiny. Too tiny, much like the rest of her.

He put her to bed in his room since the spare was a bit of a wreck and he bunked with Gaz. They could sort it all out tomorrow after he had gotten her a massive breakfast. He was shite at cooking anything but a greasy fry up but he wanted only the best for her, so he’d already fired off a message to the girl who owned the best cafe in town and asked for a priority breakfast delivery that he was going to be paying a fortune for since it was last minute and out of the ordinary. 

He didn’t know this woman, but he knew intrinsically that he would.

–

You dreamt sweet dreams. A cottage made cosy. Cooking whatever meals you wanted with ingredients you grew yourself in the garden outside. The gentle pleasure of careful hands and tongues, opening you up to a new world you never thought existed, one where your pleasure was first and foremost and the press of a body into yours didn’t hurt. The give beneath your fingers when you touched your own body, fat and soft rolls that reminded you of how safe you felt, how happy and healthy you were. 

And a little girl running towards a returning hero, being swept up and laughing delightedly about it. 

Best of all in that wonderful dream, you didn’t flinch once. 

[dragonfly92]

21st Birthday Surprise Party Chapter One

Sarah was getting ready with her bestie Skylar it was her big 21st birthday but she wasn't exactly thrilled about it as her big brother CC who was in the band Black Veil Brides couldn't come because he was away with the guys on tour, well that she was thinking but unaware her parents and the guys had been planned a surprised party for her of course Skylar was involved and she knew what she had to do and she was really good at keeping surprises, Sarah was in her bedroom getting ready for the day of course she had music going and of course it was Black Veil Brides she was a fan it wasn't just cause her brother was in but thanks to Skylar she got her into them. 

She was sitting in front of her mirror applying some make up she was still wearing her PJs, it didn't take long for her to apply make up as she doesn't use a lot after she was finished, she got up from the floor and headed to her wardrobe to decide on what to wear it really didn't take her long and when she was finished she styled her long blonde hair and then she sprayed herself with some Beyoncé perfume that Skylar gave to her a few months ago she doesn't use a lot, once she was done Skylar had send her a text message saying, "Hey girlie Happy Birthday and I hope you are ready I'm 5 minutes away." Sarah smiles and messages her back saying, "Thank You Bestie and yeah I've just gotta grab my bag and phone, I'll wait for you outside."  

Once she had everything that she needed to get she waited outside, sure enough a few moments later Skylar had arrived of course blaring Black Veil Brides which Sarah didn't mind she gets into the car and they have a quick hug and then after she closes the door and puts on her seatbelt, Skylar goes and they both start acting silly singing along to the songs like they have always done, Sarah decided to a video of the both of them being stupid but of course carefully especially as Skylar was driving they would be spending most of the morning and some of the afternoon doing shopping, whilst her parents and everyone else was getting her party ready it would be on the beach but there was a restaurant as well and they was getting it all decorated ready for her.

After a few hours both Sarah and Skylar was on their way back, of course Janet (Sarah's Mom) was keeping in contact with Skylar and she had the perfect idea saying that she and Sarah would go a have some dinner and probably some drinks seeing as she was now officially allowed too and it would brighten her mood, they decided seeing as they both got new outfits to change but of course at Sarah's house seeing as it was the closer one out of the two. Sarah had a shower and had a towel wrapped around her body and hair, sitting in front of the mirror redoing her make up but a little different this time, Sky already had a shower as well and joined Sarah on the floor doing her make up as well.

Of course Sky got Sarah a present even though she told her not too, it was a cute best friends necklace spilt in two so Sky had the best bit and Sarah had the friends bit it was so cute, the girls had finally finished getting ready for what Sarah thought was dinner and drinks, but she was in for a surprise of her life, when they would reach the restaurant. Sarah was still inside she was getting her bag, whilst she was doing that Sky was already in the car texting Janet and she puts, "Hey me and Sarah are just leaving now, she still has no idea what is going on she thinks that we are just having dinner and drinks, are you guys almost finished not sure how long I can keep her away?" 

Sarah's Birthday Outfit 

Sky had received a reply from Janet and she had put, "Hey well that's good news then and yeah we are just put the birthday banner up and then we're finished everyone is hiding to wait for Sarah and you, so we can surprise her and we also wanted to thank you for keeping this a secret, we know it's been hard but we're proud of you." That makes Skylar smile and she quickly looks up but Sarah had gone back inside needing the toilet so this gave her the perfect opportunity to write back and she says, "Well I appreciate it, If I'm being honest I see you guys as my second set of parents and Sarah like a sister that I have always wanted, I probably won't be able to reply back but thank you I really appreciate you guys trusting me with the secret xxx." 

She put the phone away and then looked over thankfully Sarah was finally finished and she had gotten back into the car, closes the door and puts her seatbelt on, Sky is the one to speak up says, "So you ready to go or forgotten anything?" Sarah looks over to her bestie smiling saying, "I'm good, so lets go." Skylar couldn't help but laugh and then drove off to the restaurant, whilst they was on their way at the restaurant all of Sarah's friends and family was patiently waiting of course her dad was on look out duty whilst everyone found a place to hide including the guys. 

[mineofilms]

YouTube Age Restriction Content on Roku

You own a Roku SmartTV. You download the YouTube app onto your RokuTV. You connect your YouTube account.

You are ready to start streaming videos from YouTube through your TV. You go to watch and one of two things happen. The first is the video glitches out and plays the next video inline. The second thing that happens is you receive an error messages that says; "Something went wrong," "Playback error," or "An error occurred, please try again later." The one I kept getting was “Something went wrong. Log into your Google account and verify your age.”

This would not happen all of the time, but would happen on some videos while never happen on most. It sort of behaves like it is an age restriction thing. However, I never have any issues on any other devices with my YouTube account except on the RokuTV. Videos in my watch later would either glitch out and it would skip the video, playing the next one in the queue or it would give me the playback error message. I’d switch to another account and watch the same video and it would work without any hitches. I go back to my primary account it would do the same thing on those specific videos.

After spending a few hours of looking stuff up on the Roku website forums and YouTube videos on the subject I was able to navigate to what the issue “probably” was. The forums were useless. There was some obvious checks and balances suggested. However, most of the suggestions were dead-ends while others didn’t even make any IT sense. The support staff that would chime in from time to time on the thread was either bot responses, (likely) or customer service agents clearly not reading what is being said and that, is like, tech 101. If they are missing that bad then get help from other areas I say. Me being 25+ years in network admin/IT doesn't really care who is at fault with this. Roku is a device for non-technical people so every help question should not be a thousand word essay on technical aspects about Google/YouTube/Roku written in this "I know more than you" mentality. I did get this fixed; but the forum was not much help.

If you experience this glitch follow these steps. You will not have to factory reset your RokuTV or anything crazy like that. All your troubles are with the YouTube app on the TV and how it was originally installed and signed into:

1) Check age/birthday is fully filled out on your Google account associated to the YouTube account in question. I went ahead and also made my birthday public. I cannot verify whether or not this makes a difference. I did it just to be certain that I could get it working. I know people want to hide their personal information, but many of these apps now require as much data about you as it can so it can tailor your experience. They also do this for advertising purposes, of course, but if you want access to the app and all its features you got to give them access to your behaviors and data. If your correct birthday is already there you can skip this step.

2) Now we need to either Reset and/or Remove the YouTube app on your RokuTV. On your RokuTV, go to the YouTube app. Click settings and click reset app. You can either remove the app and reinstall or just redo the credentials. Resetting the app, basically does this, but I went ahead and did a remove/reinstall of the app just to be certain. It only takes a minute. I only wanted to do this once anyway.

3) Reboot your Roku the proper way. Settings --> System --> Power --> System Restart.

4) Reinstall the YouTube app on your RokuTV.

5) Be sure to sign in with your main/primary YouTube account if you have multiple accounts first. If you have multiple accounts on the same email, which you can do, just make sure your primary is the first/primary account that you sign into. I have 2 accounts on the same email, by which one of them is an old legacy YouTube account. That for me was more than likely the issue on my side of this subject.

6) Once I put back in my credentials with my legacy account as the primary account, which it is, the videos that were being skipped due to age restrictions began to play. I had no more glitches either and it seems fixed for now.

For me, I had the newer account on the TV first and it was a year before I realized I had 2 flippin' YouTube accounts. I did not realize years ago that when you create a Google account, mainly a Gmail account that it automatically creates you a profile for YouTube. My initial YouTube account was setup in 2006 before one had to have a Gmail to use YouTube as an account holder. The settings are radically different since YouTube was purchased by Google later in 2006. Some of the legacy settings from before absolutely do not transfer verbatim from account to account. It is important if one has an older YouTube account that is their main YouTube account, like mine, that you have to pay attention to such things, which I did not at the time. Now I always run into some sort of issue with permissions or sync issues. I have most of this fixed now and wrote a blog about my last Roku/YouTube issue. I keep seeing online that these same issues are not easy to find the specific workarounds to fix these issues. I wrote that blog and this one so that there is something coherent on the INTERNET solving these issues. More specifically to non-tech people. I have found they have the most issues with getting technology to work for them.

Hope this helps people that stumble upon this BLOG. My solutions came from years and years of just tinkering with these devices and understanding how these things work. I mean when you walk into a Wal-Mart and purchase a 50-inch SmartTV for under $300; what do you expect?

 YouTube Age Restriction Content on Roku by David-Angelo Mineo 5/29/2023 1,041 Words

[nsk96]

Personal Rant post

So yesterday was Diwali and as usual, that means a lot of cleaning and cooking. Normally we just make enough food for ourselves and our next door neighbor, but my dad's family got in touch last week, so that meant we had to invite them over for the dinner portion of the festivities. That also meant that now my mom had to make enough food to not only feed 10 people (excluding ourselves and neighbors [5 people total]), but also enough food for them to carry home.

Unfortunately, I couldn't help with any of that because according to my mom, I can't cook the food, can't prepare prasad, nor clean the prayer area when I'm menstruating (I had to spend the day at school anyway because attendance was mandatory). And the reason why I say my mom has to do it all, is not because my dad doesn't help, but because he's basically no help at all. Every year is the same thing where he pretends not to know how to do things, or acts like he's incapable of doing things (such as taking hours to do a task that should take no more than 30 minutes, or doing things like letting the rice overcook to become mushy. Borderline sabotage to the point where my mom will have to come and do or redo all of these things herself while he sits back down to watch TV. Keep in mind he's been doing this shit for over 30 YEARS). This year was even worse, because now he can use his shoulder surgery as an excuse to do less, which by the way, he's out of the arm sling and back to his job, and before this point has proven he's capable of doing a lot with one arm.

I got home from school around the time people started showing up. I went to check up on my mom and from the look on her face, I could tell it was the absolute worst this year. This woman already has hypertension, diabetes, asthma, anxiety, extreme body pains, and barely gets any sleep at all (you don't want to see how long her medication list is). The amount of stress she's had to deal with that day had her looking like she was going to pass out any second, and she was already battling heart palpitations since the day before.

She told me that my dad literally waited for me to leave for school, to start misbehaving like cursing her out and giving her the silent treatment. Which I totally believe because this is how he treats her when he thinks I'm not around to witness it (Dear dad, these walls are hella thin and the windows are not sound proof. I also look out of said windows every now and then. Sincerely, your pissed-off daughter). And as expected, my mom also reported to me that she had to do everything else while he only washed the dishes. She was literally still cooking when people started to arrive (around 6 pm. She was dealing with this shit since 11 am). Then when everyone arrived, he didn't even bother to offer them any drinks and didn't help set up the table. He can't do that even though this is his own family. He waited for my mom, who was now coming out of the shower, to do it all. She was literally the last person to eat and did not sit down to eat until after 8 pm because she had to pack food for the neighbors first.

After everyone had left and my mom was in the bathroom, my dad had the audacity to say "your mom went overboard," referring to all the food she had to cook and sweets she had to prepare. In my mind I was thinking, "are you even fucking aware of all the people we just had to feed? Not to mention that three of those people (my cousin, cousin's wife and son) decided not to show up?" I tried to hold my tongue and said, "what do you mean?" He replied, "Who do you think had to do all this work?"

In anger, my tongue slipped and out came a gentle, "Mom."

At this point I kinda blanked out as my head got really hot, realizing what I just said. I don't remember what his reply was but he was definitely pissed after I said that (as expected. He loves to pretend to be the victim. You could ask him about something bad he did without sounding accusatory, and he will then blow it out of proportion and say you're blaming him and throw a whole ass tantrum and walk out the door making sure to slam it. Every. F*cking. Time. Guilty conscience much?). So to smooth things over because I don't want him to poison me the next day (not an exaggeration. I'm being upfront about it now, I'm done covering for him to the public), I said, "I mean there's only so much you can do with your shoulder injury," basically using the same excuse he's been using all day. I wanted to laugh earlier when he pretended to struggle with scooping rice pudding into a bowl for my aunt. He deliberately was using his injured arm to scoop instead of using the arm he has been using for the past 3 months. So, here he was struggling to scoop a spoonful of rice pudding into a bowl and my aunts go "awww your arm" and now someone else had to come and do it.

So he then replied, "you don't think I still had a lot of work to do?" I didn't say anything but I wanted to say, "yeah, I know how you work." He then went outside, making sure to slam the door behind him (a glass sliding door, FYI). Sorry, dad, thanks to Dr. Ramani on YouTube, your narc tactics don't phase me anymore.

Last night my mom was telling me how she had hoped this year would be different and hope that he'd change. She told me that just the day before, everything was going smoothly, but then Diwali day came and it felt like he dropped a bomb on her. I asked my mom, "you're staying home from work tomorrow, right?" She said yes. Then I woke up this morning and she's at work. When I asked why, she said "we need the money." Which is something my dad is always saying (which btw, her whole paycheck usually goes into the bank account and he blows up every time he finds out that my mom withdraws some money from her paycheck for our emergency funds), so I know it's because of him that she didn't stay home from work. I asked her how she's feeling, she said not too great and that she's seeing triple and quadruple, or as she put it, "I'm seeing in 3's and 4's. I can't read what I'm typing."

I swear, the minute I get a stable pharmacist job, I'm moving out and taking her with me (after getting her a good divorce lawyer/attorney, of course. She gave this man her whole life and all he did was tear her down physically and psychologically for over 30 years of their marriage. I will make sure she gets the money and peace of mind she deserves). Thankfully, she works from home, so it wouldn't be too hard to set up at a new apartment. It will be difficult for some time with all the debt we collectively have, but we can face it together without that demon bringing us down at every minute.

“Your mom went overboard” my ass. Did it ever occur to you she went over board for YOUR family? The same family that doesn’t give a shit about her? And she did all of this while fasting…that means she didn’t eat anything all day, couldn’t take her medication and had all this labor to do. She made 24 paratha rotis by herself and coming from a Trinidadian background, that is a shit ton of work and usually takes more than one person to pull off in the time she pulled that off.

The fuckin audacity of this man

[angstysebfan]

The Past Can Break You - 4

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: honestly probably not the best ive written... sorry

--

It’s been almost a week since you told Bucky you needed space. You have barely come out of your room, because you didn’t want to see him, and especially her. You wonder if this is really the end of your relationship. You are grateful that he has given you space, and according to Nat, he hasn’t gone near Dot. Dot has been spending a lot of time down in the lab with Tony. Wanting to learn about technology. Good luck to her.

Over the last few days you have been waking up to soft knocking on your door. You go to open the door and find a single red rose with no note. You figure it is Bucky, and while it makes your heart flutter, you force yourself to leave in on your dresser. As you walk down to the kitchen to eat breakfast you see Nat sitting at the counter.

“Morning, Nat,” you say quietly.

She smiles softly at you, “Morning. How are you feeling?” she asks.

You shrug as you continue making your coffee and grab your fixings for cereal. When you turn around you see Bucky sleepily walk into the kitchen. You look at the bags under his eyes and he stops short and stares at you. You feel your heart break when you know that he doesn’t sleep well without you. 

“Morning, Doll,” he says, completely ignoring Nat’s existence.

“Good morning Bucky,” you say. You decide to take your breakfast to go and shuffle around him as he walks further into the room. You stop and turn to look at him again, “Thank you for the roses. They are beautiful, “ you say before leaving.

Bucky sighs heavily when you leave and looks at Nat. “God I hope this works. I can’t live like this much longer, Nat. I miss her so goddamn much,” he says as he puts his face in his hands. 

“Barnes man up. This will work. She commented on the roses. She is hurt and doesn’t trust you, which you can’t blame her for. But the fact that she thanked you, tells me that she appreciates you putting in the effort. It’s time to do this. Let her know that you are serious about making her a priority. Now I bought everything. You go get ready and I will get her there, okay?” She says.

Bucky nods and heads out of the kitchen to get ready. He hopes that this will work. He is hoping that if anything it will show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous that you will reject him also. But Nat seems to think this will work, so we will see.

--

You are sitting on your bed, watching Netflix when there is a knock on your door. You call for them to enter and see Nat walk through the door. She walks over and sits on your bed.

“Hey honey, how are you holding up?” she asks as she sits.

You shrug, hugging yourself. “I-I miss him. But I’m still mad at him. But I want to talk to him. But I’m scared that it will end,” you say.

Nat pulls you into a hug, “Honey, I promise he has been moping in his room all week. I don’t think he has gone near her once. Steve has been watching over her, and she has been spending a lot of time in the lab, which is weird, but whatever. He told her he was done and he meant it. Talk to him,” she says.

You can’t help the tears, “Has be been... okay?” you ask.

“He misses you. He wants to make it up to you. Are you ready to hear him out, and have a conversation with him?” Nat asked.

You sigh and think about whether or not you are ready. You look at her and node slowly, causing her to smile. “Good. I was hoping that would be your answer. Now get up and put...” she ran to the bedroom door and grabs a box from the hallway she left there, bringing it back to the bed. “This on. I’ll meet you in the garage in 1 hour,” she says before leaving. You open the box and gasp.

--

When Nat pulls up to the edge of Central Park, you look at her in question. She nods telling you to go ahead. You get out of the car and start walking down the path. As you get closer to the clearing, you hear light music. You continue walking and finally enter the clearing where you recognize you had your first date with Bucky. You look around and see roses everywhere and candles, along with music.

Finally your eyes meet Bucky, who is standing in the middle of open space. He is wearing a navy blue suit, that matches your navy blue dress that Nat gave you. He has shaved his beard to some light scruff, that makes you swoon. His hair is cut short, and looks so soft. You see he is nervous as he waits for you to make a move.

“Hi Bucky,” you say. 

He sighs and gives you a small smile, “Hi baby. I’m glad you came,” he says as he steps up to you with another rose in his hand.

He hands it to you, which causes you to smile, “Well Nat didn’t exactly give me much of a choice,” you say.

He laughs, “Yea, she has been helping me set up all of this. I’m so glad you are here. I-I wanted to... I... Baby, I can’t even find the words to apologize for being such an ass. But I’m done. I told Dot she had to deal with things herself. I told her that you were the one I want. And, I haven’t seen her since. I know that it will take a lot more than a date and begging to get you to forgive me, but I hope that we can recreate our first date because I fell in love with you that night. Not that I am expecting anything, but I owed you, and--”

You cut Bucky off with you lips slotting on his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you impossibly close. “Bucky, I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to fix this. I’ve missed you. I love you so much, and the fact that you are doing all of this, means so much to me. This isn’t going to fix everything, but I’m ready to talk,” you say.

Bucky leads you to the table and you both sit and talk about the situation. You talk about your fears and how you felt when Dot arrived. You expressed how his actions affected you, and Bucky took everything in stride. When you finally finished going through everything, Bucky then told you how the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He felt that he owed it Dot, because he knows how scary it is to wake up in a different time. And while he used to have love for Dot, the moment he met you and started to date you, Dot no longer held his heart. Only you. 

He told you that he will never put anything ahead of you or your relationship again. After you both agreed you will move back into your room, but Bucky still has a lot of things to make up for. You then danced the night away under the stars. You both eventually make your way back to your shared apartment. Bucky surprised you with new lingerie, the same pair he ruined that night. You got a redo of that date night, and this time, Bucky made sure you had several more orgasms, before finishing himself. No interruptions, no ex’s, just the two of you reclaiming your love on each other.

--

Dot had been trying to figure out what she could do to split you and Bucky up for good. She knew you would be pathetic and fall for his charms again, just like all the girls from back in the day. She had to step up her game in this century though, and who better to learn from then one of the smartest men who happen to live in the compound also.

She started to spend time with Tony to learn the ins and outs of technology in the 21st century. He also taught Dot how utilize FRIDAY. showed her all the fun and cool thing that no one cared to know. Dot made sure she seemed completely excited and interested, which helped Tony’s ego and gave her more information. Eventually Dot figured out something that she could use. 

She smiled when she saw both you and Bucky going into shared apartment after your date. While she hated the idea of you and Bucky together, she knew that she could use her new knowledge against you. And now was the perfect time to put that in motion.

--

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

Not 100% how I feel about this chapter. I felt like it was getting too long so I cut it, but maybe I shouldn’t have. So I’m sorry if it’s not as good. But DRAMA ALERT!! What is Dot going to do? Feedback is appreciated!

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”  

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”  

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.  

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.  

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them." 

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me." 

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever." 

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.  

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.  

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige." 

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.  

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.  

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.  

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.  

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

[mieohmy]

𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗋 | 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝗐𝗈𝗈

PAIRING: CEO boss! jeon wonwoo x secretary! reader 

GENRE: fluff, angst, humor, office au

WC: 5k (whoops got carried away- i mean its wonwoo)

NOTES: mentions of death, depression 

SUMMARY: you loved being a secretary, the work and stress included. but your ‘stone cold’ boss was really testing your limits in more ways than one. alternatively, who knew mighty CEO jeon wonwoo was such a softie?

update: part two can be found here !

update 2: final part → here 

❋

“Yes, sir. Also, the opening ceremony is today at 7pm. Would you like me to set up your chauffeur?” The man nods. “Yes, make sure to finish the layout for tomorrow. And the catalog by Thursday. That’s all, you’re dismissed.” You bow politely before turning and exiting his office. 

You take two steps forward before displaying a scowl and muttering, “never get a break. not even a thank you. just wait, jeon wonwoo, one day i-“ “Y/n!” A voice snaps you out of your trance, spotting Seungkwan walking your way. 

Greeting him, you ask, “What’s up?” “We’re getting food tonight. Team dinner at 7. Can you make it?” he says. You sigh before replying apologetically, “Sorry.... boss wants me to finish something up for tomorrow.” 

Seungkwan taps his feet in disapproval. “The CEO is still giving you more work? When will that man ever let you have a break?” You grit your teeth, attempting to smile. Seungkwan stares at the CEO's office. 

“Y/n, you work the hardest out of all of us, and you have to deal with him every day. If there’s anyone who deserves a rest, it’s you. Our team’s planning on going to the beach on the weekend since we have Friday off. You should join us. It’ll be really fun!“

Contemplating for a moment, you’re about to accept before you suddenly remember what Friday is, eyes widening. Turning to Seungkwan, you smile sadly. “I really-like you don’t even know-really want to go, but I have something really important on Friday. I’m so sorry.” He nods, reassuring you it’s fine. “Well, you can join us on Saturday then!” 

You bow, biting your lip as you continue on. You totally forgot what day Friday was. 

❋

The rest of your shift was rough. Wonwoo, AKA your horrible boss, didn’t seem to want to give you a break. The past few weeks had been very tightly packed with the upcoming debut, and although you understood it was very important, sometimes it felt like your boss didn’t know you were human too. 

Waking up at 5 am, driving to his place and setting up, and then getting to work was exhausting. Not to mention the late nights working on assignments. It all came with being a secretary, but recently, you didn’t know if you could keep going. Maybe it had something to do with your boss’s attitude as well. 

Jeon Wonwoo, CEO of one of the largest writing and printing companies. Exactly how you expect. Handsome, cold, quiet. You’re pretty sure he’s rejected more than a hundred women who attempted to ask him out. What did he even do for fun? Lame word searches?

When you first started working as his secretary, you had at least one breakdown a day. Everything you did was wrong, Wonwoo’s ‘redo it again’, echoing in your mind. He never cared about your feelings, just your work. You needed the job to help your family since it had good pay, and your siblings were focused on school. So it was up to you to provide for your family that you weren’t even close with.

You and your coworkers loved to complain about wonwoo’s cold attitude and the workload he gave out. Sure he was handsome, but it didn’t matter to you since his attitude was such a shutdown. You blamed him for not having a social life or a boyfriend, but of course, he didn’t care. 

That just made you want to work even harder. You stayed up countless nights practicing, studying to be perfect. Until Wonwoo tolerated you. Everyone knew you as Jeon Wonwoo’s longest secretary. It wasn’t easy work, but it made you feel proud, and you were able to push through working for him. 

At least before recently. Wonwoo was extremely busy with the preparations, and so were you. You understood, he was stressed, but was taking it out on you okay? You really contemplated quitting, but this time of the year was extremely important, so you would have to wait until after the new debut passed. I mean, you were kind enough to start the resignation after finishing the event, unlike another person you knew.

Wonwoo calls you into his office late that night, the floor almost empty. You walk in, carrying the same tea you always brought at the now perfected temperature. Setting it down, you bow before asking, “you called for me, Mr. Jeon?” You can tell he’s frustrated by his ruffled hair and wrinkled collar. Your fingers itch, wanting to fix it. 

“Finish the chart for tomorrow. I want you to adjust my schedule since father’s coming by. Cancel everything before 10.” You tense, feeling the frustration course through you. “But sir, I already got all the-“ “I don’t care, change it. You can go now.” You tightly bow and leave, fuming in anger. 

❋

You’re not surprised you only got three hours of sleep. It was a regular thing these days. Groaning, you get ready as usual like every day, the schedule drilled into your brain. You grab a shirt, frowning as you remember the one time Mr. Jeon called your fashion taste revolting and ordered you to a complete wardrobe change. 

It was finally Friday, the day you were anticipating the whole week. Also the one day you got off from work early and seeing Mr. Jeon’s face. You couldn’t wait until 5 when you were done and could prepare for later. The whole week was awful, you’re pretty sure you looked like a raccoon with the amount of sleep you got. 

You’re typing furiously at your desk when Seokmin comes by. His footsteps alert you. “Oh, hey Seokmin. What’s up?” He grins. “Did Seungkwan tell you about what we’re doing later today?” You attempt to smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry I can’t make it. I’m busy later. Can’t wait to get off.” He claps, rubbing his hands together. “It’s alright. Don’t work too hard.” 

You smile, winking. “Don’t worry. And try not to have too much fun without me!” The buzzing on your desk interrupts you, causing you to groan. “What does he want now?”

Walking in, you find Wonwoo signing documents. He doesn’t even look up as he says, “I need you to complete the finalizing documents right now.” You pause, processing the information. “Wait, but those will take me at least four hours. My shift ends in one.” 

He finally looks up, face devoid of any emotion. “Well, that’s your job. You’re expected to do it.” You feel your heart speed up, tightening your hands into fists. You respond shakily, “I’m sorry sir, but there’s something really important I have to do tonight. I can get Mr. Lee to finish it. Can’t you let me go this once?” 

“But why? You’re supposed to do what I ask?” His voice sounds annoyed, bored even. You scoff, feeling your eyes burn. “Those last couple of weeks I’ve been doing everything you asked, even more. Don’t you think I deserve a break?” 

“You signed up to be my secretary. What kind of breaks do you expect? Things are very tense with the new debut now, so don’t expect me to take pity and let you go just because you did what I said,” Wonwoo retorts.

That was it.

You hated yourself. You hated yourself for snapping. But at the same time, you didn’t. 

You slam your papers on the table, shaking. “I work basically 24/7, every day, running errands for you and doing everything you tell me.” Your voice cracks, and you feel hot tears run down your face. 

“And you don’t even have the respect to treat me like a human being? I wake up immediately thinking about what you’re going to make me do for the rest of the day.” A sob escapes you. 

Wiping your tears angrily, you continue to stare at him with wide, furious eyes. “I go to sleep thinking about what I have to do for you the next day. But you don’t even thank me. Not once. No appreciation when I try to impress you and go above and beyond. And then you won’t even let me have one break? I don’t even get vacations or holidays off!”

You sniffle, body shaking, as you let the words sink in. “I signed up to be a secretary, not disrespected.” And with that, you walk out with tears pouring down your face, grabbing as much of your stuff as you can and leaving, ignoring the shocked whispers and startled questions.  

❋

Once you get home, you slap yourself. What did you just do? What did you just say to your boss? Oh god, ex-boss now. You’re dead. Officially. You feel numb like you just watched a confusing movie and were trying to process everything. 

You want to bury yourself in the ground. Or become a rock. That’d be way nicer than being yourself right now. 

But you have to continue on. You don’t even care if you’re going out wearing sweats and a hoodie. He wouldn’t care. After buying everything, you drive to the spot. You pass blurs, barely paying attention as you blankly stare at the road. 

Once you get out, you feel the drops, glancing up. You didn’t realize it was raining while you were driving. You let the water pour over you, making your way to the familiar stone.

Stopping in front, you sink to your knees. 

“Dad...I’m so sorry I’m late. Can you believe I basically threw a tantrum in front of my boss? Well, ex-boss?” Laughing weakly, you wipe the tears you didn’t notice had run down your face. “I don’t have a job anymore, that’s for sure.” 

You look around, your whole body soaked now. Softly, you arrange the flowers neatly in front of his grave. “Are you still proud of me dad?” You smile weakly, adjusting yourself comfortably on the cold wet ground. “I’m so sorry... happy anniversary, still. Another year passed. How are you?” 

❋

You spend days at home, never leaving your bed, only allowing yourself to mope about your life. Your phone is spammed with texts and calls. Probably from coworkers, you figured. You didn’t have enough energy to respond. 

You sighed for the millionth time. Everyone had probably heard about your childish rant in wonwoo's office. How could you let yourself break like that? No one had contacted you and deemed you officially fired, but you knew it the moment you opened your mouth. Maybe finally going outside and getting snacks would cheer you up. 

Cringing, you saw yourself in the mirror. Just like someone who got broken up with by their partner. I mean, it’s not like you had a job anymore or anyone to impress, so you just shrugged and went out for the first in a while.

Entering the store, you walk down an aisle, glancing at the options. You’re squatting, choosing between banana or strawberry when you spot movement in the corner of your vision. It’s just a man looking at the ice cream, but it’s what he’s wearing that catches your attention. 

You raise an eyebrow. Who goes to a mart in a full suit and tie like that? Scoffing internally, you bite the inside of your cheek. Ha, he looks like- The man suddenly turns, and you can never mistake that face. 

BEKDJRE WHAT IS MR. JEON DOING HERE?? You whip your head back, hoping, praying, that he doesn’t recognize you in your horrible clothes. Your heart pounding loudly, you stand up, deciding just to get the heck out of there before-

Oh ****. Why does he have to stand right next to you? 

You internally freak out, don’t make eye contact I swear to god y/n if you do you’ll- 

“What do you recommend? Melon or banana?” You recognize his deep voice and freeze. Is he talking to you? Maybe he doesn’t know who you are??

Facing away from him, you respond in a croaky, low voice. “U-uh banana?” You catch him nodding in the corner of your eye. 

Time to escape. You turn, briskly walking away until a hand abruptly grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. Panicking, you don’t move, not wanting to expose your identity. What does this man want??

The hand on your wrist doesn’t loosen, instead, it tightens and spins you around until you’re face to face with him. Your now-former boss, Jeon Wonwoo. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have an angry look on his face. Instead, he simply says, “Y/n, I know it’s you. It seemed like you when you walked in. And the fact that you chose banana instead of melon for me because you know I hate melon confirms it.” 

You open your mouth before lamely responding, “Could’ve been a lucky guess?” 

❋

 You would’ve never expected yourself to be outside a grocery mart at 1 am with jeon wonwoo.

Awkwardly shuffling on your feet, you watched as wonwoo paid for your treats. He insisted on it for some reason, and you knew you couldn’t beat him when he looked at you with that face. Chills ran down your spine whenever you thought about it.

When he finishes, you walk side by side out the door, a silence between the two of you. You wait a couple seconds before you can’t take it anymore. 

You quickly fall to your knees in front of him, head down as you plead, “Please forgive me, Mr. Jeon. I-I didn’t mean anything I said. I was just extremely stressed- I completely understand if you never want to see my face again, although I’m not sure why you confronted me today and bought stuff for me but it doesn’t matter anymore- It was completely rude of me, and I just hope you’ll accept my apology.” Finishing your ramble, you keep your head bowed and eyes squeezed shut as you await his response. 

You almost don’t notice it, it was so gentle. Wonwoo’s hand slowly reaches forward and tilts your chin up, and you don’t realize your heart speeding up. He squats in front of you, his face seems surprisingly amused. 

You would’ve never expected the words that came out of his mouth next, either.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I realized the workload I put on you, and it wasn’t wrong of you to burst out on me. I’m afraid I’m not good with words, but after you disappeared, I realized how much you do for the office. Truly, I appreciate your hard work. Hopefully, you can come back to work once you feel fit.” 

You stare at him, processing the words that the CEO of one of the biggest printing companies just said. 

You stay still, eyes still boring into his until you’re finally able to break out of it. You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off. You breathe a sigh of relief, muttering, “thank you for not firing me.” You clap your hand over your mouth, surprised eyes moving to look at wonwoo. 

You watch as wonwoo’s lips slowly turn up, letting out a quiet chuckle. You blink. Did he just laugh? Like fr? Oh my god, you have to tell Seungkwan. His voice interrupts you. “I should drive you back to your place, it’s getting late.” 

Your eyes widen in shock. Shaking your head, you reply, “oh no, it’s fine. I’ll walk home. It’s not far.” He insists, and of course, you aren’t able to say no. 

It’s an awkward drive as you direct your boss to your apartment. Once you arrive, you quickly thank him, and he smiles. What the-

“Well, I hope to see you soon at work, secretary y/n.”

You can only nod, dumbfounded. You had never seen him smile before, and it was kinda nice.

You numbly wave goodbye as he drives off, entering your apartment and crashing into bed. 

❋

After two days, you’re back in action. The second the elevator doors open, a swarm of people rushed up to you. You stand there as people begin talking, asking questions. You feel like a celebrity being interviewed by paparazzi.

You take a step forward, pushing past everyone. It didn’t feel right to have to answer their questions. You settle at your office, politely asking people to stop asking. Eventually, the crowd leaves.

You’re unpacking the stuff you took home in a blaze of anger when you hear footsteps approach. Sighing, you turn around. “I’m sorry, I don’t- ..Dokyeom?” 

“Y/n!!! What the frick happened? All we know is that you stormed out of the building and didn’t come back for a week!! And with our project, things were going crazy without you...”

Grimacing, you say, “I know, I know, I’m sorry.  It’s stupid, but I’m back for real now. Promise.  I’ll explain it all later, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

Dokyeom sighs, giving you one last ‘you better not forget’ before leaving you. 

It takes hours, but you’re finally able to get wonwoo’s schedule up to date. You check the time. Shoot. Wonwoo usually expects tea at this time.

You quickly run over to the drink station, hoping no one comes up to you. You glance around, mostly everyone’s focused on their work and staring at their computer screens. 

You’re pouring the hot water when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning, Wonwoo comes into view. You immediately jump, causing the hot water to splash onto your hand. 

Letting out a hiss of pain, you drop the cup. The sound alerts the workers in the room, most beginning to notice your presence. 

Wonwoo quickly walks over to you, gently taking your hands in his. “Are you alright?” You gape at him, and you’re pretty sure everyone else in the room is dumbfounded too. Whispers immediately break out. 

You snatch your hands from him and quickly bow. “I’m fine, thank you, sir.” Forgotten tea, you dash to the bathroom. Huffing, you place your hands on the sink.

What happened to your boss and why do you kinda like it? The feeling of his warm hands over yours causes you to shiver. You punch the sink, grumbling. 

“Ughh seriously, what’s wrong with this guy?  I yell at him and suddenly he becomes this nice guy? And then in front of everyone too?”

❋

It doesn’t stop after that. For days, jeon wonwoo would somehow make his way to you and act all nice. Sometimes in front of others, and sometimes when it’s just you two in his office. You would always feel hot and nervous afterward randomly. 

It began spreading around the office. What happened to CEO Jeon and why did he become so nice to you? You heard some of the rumors, ‘probably slept together’ ‘did they find out some juicy secret about him? ..’

It was annoying, but you tried to ignore it. You were able to explain everything to doykeom and seungkwan. They were the only ones who knew about the late-night grocery mart trip and wonwoo’s sudden kindness. 

You wanted to confront him, really. And you tried, but he would just say it was because you were his secretary that worked so hard for so long. 

You wanted it to stop. You wanted it to stop cause you liked this side of him, and you didn’t want to admit it.

❋

It all changed one day when you received a text at work. From a number that you didn’t recognize. At first. 

After reading it, you immediately shot up from your desk. Wonwoo came from his office, walking over to you, but you hurriedly made an excuse and ran out, leaving him surprised. 

Groaning, you noticed the rain. Perfect timing... You braced yourself and ran through the pouring rain. You had to get there, no matter what. You were soaked, gasping for air, once you reached the stone. 

They left. You stood there, staring down at it. 

It was just you and the rain.

Until it wasn’t, anymore. You look up. It’s a black... umbrella? Spinning around, you come face to face with a suit. An extremely familiar one.

“M-mr. jeon?” He’s holding the umbrella and staring at you, but it feels like he’s looking into your soul. 

You blink, eyes flicking down to the wet ground. It’s silent until he speaks up. “Why did you suddenly come here? Y/n?” 

You slowly turn back to look at the plaque. “This is where my dad is,” you softly say. There’s a pause before wonwoo responds, “I’m so sorry.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. This is why I blew up last Friday. I was supposed to be here that day.” You feel wonwoo tense next to you. 

Before he can say anything, you face him. “It still doesn’t excuse my behavior. But.. why did you follow me?” He fumbles a bit before replying, “it was raining.. it wouldn’t be safe for you to go alone.” 

You laugh, a pleasant sound ringing in wonwoo’s ears before saying, “thank you. And, I came here because of my family. You might not have known this, but I got this job to help them. After my father died, my mother became depressed and my siblings couldn’t do anything. So I had to get a job to support them.” 

You bitterly smile before continuing, “I’m not even close with them. I was too busy working, and my mother was too busy moping. My siblings are busy with school, and I never see them anymore. It’s gotten to the point where I just pay their bills and don’t even speak to them. Ha, they finally contacted me to say they were gonna visit him today, can you believe it? And I missed them. As usual.” 

Wonwoo looks down at his feet. “I never knew that about you... You’ve been working for me for years, and I didn’t know that.” 

You shift. “What about you?” He turns to you, surprised. “Me?” You nod, “your family?” Wonwoo shuffles closer to you, causing you to unconsciously swallow. 

“Well, I’m not very close with my family either. It was all work, preparing me to take over the business. I mostly grew up alone... and I didn’t really have many close relationships. Uh- well, you can most likely tell. Everyone in the office probably can too.” 

You glance at him. He’s going back into his shell. The one he would always go into when he was stressed, scared, alone. You hesitate. “That’s okay, you don’t have to be close to everyone. It doesn’t hurt to be a little kinder, though. Not to be rude, but a lot of people in the office are.... a bit scared of you? To be honest, we were all a bit shocked when you started caring more. I was surprised. Um- but i-in a good way.” 

Wonwoo stares at you with wide eyes as you focus back on the stone. A comfortable silence fills the air between the two of you. Standing there, hearing the sound of the pouring drops. 

As the rain falls harder, you feel as if you have too.

❋

There’s an understanding, a deeper one between you and wonwoo after that day. You feel like you know him, even if it’s only a little more. 

The CEO suddenly turns into a completely different person. To others, he may still seem like a cold boss, but to you, wonwoo’s an endearing introvert who’s obsessed with cats. 

You were shocked, to say the least when wonwoo comes by your desk and shoves a phone in your face. You flinch before opening your eyes and staring at the screen.  “Mr. Jeon..... why are you showing me a picture of a cat?” 

“It’s cute. Isn’t it?” Laughing, you cover your mouth to hide a smile. “Yes sir, it sure is.” 

He continues to show more of himself, and you find yourself falling deeper. For someone who you never expected.  He has such a cold exterior to people around you, but once it’s just you two, he turns into such a softie. 

Seungkwan confronts you one day. “Y/n, you have to explain. What is happening between you and CEO jeon??” You shake your head in response, but you feel heat creep up your neck. 

“Seungkwannn, I told you already. He just helped me out, and I guess, I understand him a bit better now. He’s not bad, seriously.” 

He lets out a small tch! “A week ago you were complaining about his nasty personality, and now you’re saying he’s not bad?”

You whine, clinging to his side. “Ahh, seriously I said it was nothing. Why won’t you believe me??” Someone clears their throat. 

You and seungkwan turn. It’s wonwoo who else would it be. Immediately, seungkwan bows. “Sir!!” Wonwoo stands there, face passive. “Secretary y/n, come to my office.” 

Seungkwan shoots you a look, leaving you to shrug and follow the CEO.

He offers you a seat, and you sit on the plush couch, waiting.

He shifts in his seat awkwardly, and you raise an eyebrow. “Why did you call me in, Mr. Jeon?” 

He coughs before muttering, “are you close with him? Mr. Boo?” “You mean seungkwan? Oh, he’s my friend, that’s all. Why do you want to know? Are you jealous?” you tease.

But wonwoo only scratches his head. You’re about to apologize for going too far with the joke, but you can’t even respond after what he says. “Well, of course, I am. Cause I’m interested in you.” 

Your mouth drops open. “What did you just say?” He looks at you, a serious expression on his face. “I want to go out with you. Truly.” 

Heart beating faster, you internally panic. He just asked you out? He’s interested in you? What is going on? 

“So? What’s your answer?” You snap out of it, glancing back at your boss, nervously shaking his leg. I mean, you enjoyed his presence. But he was your boss, the supposed cold and scary Jeon Wonwoo.. and also the one who still managed to infiltrate your mind.

“Um, yes. I will go out with you.”

❋

You find out and learn more and more sides to him. They all cause your heart to flutter harder and harder. He’s no longer just your boss, he’s someone you can trust, confide in. 

You begged wonwoo not to tell anyone. All the dates happening in secret. Wonwoo was upset, originally. He wanted to tell people, to show you were his, but you firmly insisted on keeping it quiet. If people in the office found out, you would never hear the end of it. 

You walk into wonwoo’s office one morning, carrying the itinerary for the week. Once he sees you, his eyes light up. He walks over to you, grabbing the file and throwing it on the desk somewhere. 

You stare at him with wide eyes as he strides over to you, wrapping his arms around your body. There’s a second of peace and content, but you interrupt him, tensing and saying, “wonwoo- someone might see us.” 

Even as you continue to shift and glance around to check, he sighs and rests his head on top of yours. “Secretary, can’t you just relax for a second? We’ve been working so much, we need a break.” 

Letting out a huff, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace. “Two more minutes,” you mumble. Wonwoo leans down, so his face is inches from yours, a small grin displayed. You smile back, knowing what he wants. 

You lean in, placing your lips on his. His mouth moves hungrily on yours, causing you to make a small sound of surprise. 

Then there’s suddenly a knock, and you hear the door open. “CEO Jeon?” 

You fly under his desk, squeezing your eyes shut and praying whoever it was didn't see you.

You wait there, attempting to muffle your breathing and keep still. You recognize the voice, it’s Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Vice President of the company. Why did he have to come at the worst time? 

You hear the distinct sounds of their conversation for what seems to be forever before Mr. Choi finally bids him goodbye. Your body slumps in relief, waiting to get out from under his desk until you hear seungcheol suddenly speak again. 

“Also, why is secretary y/l/n under your desk? I see their feet sticking out.” You silently curse yourself. Slowly and very ungracefully, you maneuver your way from under the desk. Standing up, you quickly smooth your clothes and hair. “Oh, ha, Mr. Choi. I had no idea you here. Um- well, you see...” 

You quickly look at Wonwoo and back to Mr. Choi. Stammering, you finally say, “Mr. Jeon thought he saw a coach roach and called me in. Must’ve just imagined it.” You nervously laugh as wonwoo sheepishly nods in agreement. 

Finally, he leaves the two of you, and you sit on the couch, biting your lip as you examine wonwoo’s expression. 

“Was the coach roach your best excuse?”

You cringe. “I’m sorry-! I couldn’t think of anything else. Do you think he saw?” 

Wonwoo shrugs, sitting next to you. “Is it so bad for him to see?” he speaks quietly.

You face him, aghast. “No! It’s just, you know how it is... if everyone knew. They’d misunderstand, think I’m using you or something.” 

Your body freezes as you turn to face him. “Wait- you don’t think I’m using you... right?” 

Wonwoo quickly shakes his head. “No, I know you y/n. You would never do that. I’m just afraid. That you’ll leave me because I’m too quiet, or too busy with work or-..” 

You smile at him softly.

“You know I love you?” He stares at you, shocked. You had never said it to each other before, but you truly meant it. 

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine it with yours. “Did you know I thought about quitting my job before? When we were debuting the showcase. It was so stressful that I really was gonna leave.” You feel his hand grip yours tighter, so you continue.

“But you know I'll never leave you, right? I won’t ever leave you alone.” Nudging him, you add playfully, “that means you’re stuck with me forever.” 

Wonwoo laughs- a short deep sound. 

“I’m okay with that, cause I’m in love with you too.” 

 author note: i actually wanted to write more but got lazy...  im conflicted if i should add to the story or leave it as it is :\\\\ 

[runtedfiction]

the best

day 5: domesticity @zelinkweek2021

ao3

AN: i could spend a lifetime writing sleepy domestic scenes. also shoutout to @itcantbe, whose sweet and thoughtful comments have kept me going all week :)

* * *

Four times there’s someone waiting at home.

* * *

“You’re sure moving in together is a good idea,” Zelda says when all their boxes are already combined, stacked neatly on the floor of their new apartment.

Link laughs. “You’re asking me this now?”

“I’m asking you this now.”

He kisses the top of her head. There’s natural light, oak hardwood, and a kitchen with an island. This is everything they wanted, so she’s not sure why there’s dread gnawing at the bottom of her stomach. The loss of privacy? The merging of two lives? The thought of there always being a loving, patient partner to come home to?

He smiles at her when she hands him the scissors to open the first box. “I’m sure.”

* * *

They move in over the course of a weekend, and Monday is right back to work. It’s a rough Monday too--there’s a memory leak in one of her team’s apps and she spends all day trying to plug it. When she takes the train home she nearly gets off at her old stop. Remembering that her new place is slightly farther is enough to put her in a crabby mood when she comes home.

“Hey,” he says when she walks in the door. A waft of something warm and savory scents hits her. He didn’t mention that he’d be cooking today.

“Hello.”

Link looks up from the cutting board--her “Hello” did sound a bit terse coming out of her mouth. “How was your day?”

She flops down on the couch. “Ugh.”

“Ugh?”

“Ugh.”

“Well,” he says, sprinkling something on top of whatever’s in the pot, “dinner is ready whenever. I’m killing the heat now.”

“Mmhmm.” She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling.

“Man,” he says, and he goes to the couch. “Bad day?”

She puts her phone down to bury her face in his shoulder. “The worst.”

(“Better that you’re here now” goes unsaid. She wants a bit more time to mope around.)

He threads her finger through hers. “I’m sorry bud. You wanna talk about it over dinner? I made that veggie soup you like.”

She perks up, just a bit. “The one with the pasta?”

“The one with the pasta.”

* * *

The rest of the week isn’t much better. When Purah messages her asking if she wants to grab drinks after work on Friday, Zelda reacts with every “yes” they have in their company Slack.

“Fucking hell,” she says, sipping on a too-expensive drink in a too-nice bar. “Memory leaks on Monday, urgent stakeholder requests later, and unredacted log info today?”

Purah shakes her head. “They don’t pay you enough.”

“Amen.”

Robbie and Impa come, and Purah buys everyone a tequila shot. Then Zelda buys a round, because why not, and soon the four of them are out on the street giggling and searching for a karaoke bar.

Her phone buzzes. It’s Link.

“Hello?”

(“Ooooooooh Liiiink,” Purah coos. Zelda chooses to ignore her.)

“Hi,” he says. “I’m heading out from Daruk’s thing; I’ll be home in like 30.”

“Ok,” she says, and checks the time on her watch. “Oh, it’s one already! Don’t wait for me, I’m not too sure how long it’ll be.”

“Ok,” he says. “Have fun stay safe.”

“Yeah, I will!”

They find a karaoke bar that’s charmingly shitty with a two drink minimum. As soon as they walk in, someone is doing a very bad but very passionate rendition of “My House” by Flo Rida. They also queue up for the stage--Impa is willing to do a basic Taylor Swift song with her because she’s a stellar friend--and spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking.

It’s somewhere between four and five when Zelda makes it back home, still drunk but mostly tired. She changes into pajamas and brushes her teeth far too quickly, careful to not turn on the electric mode so Link doesn’t wake up.

She climbs into bed as quietly as she can considering her head is swimming and she can feel the blood rushing through it. Link stirs a bit, and she’s relieved when his breathing goes back to normal. But then he turns towards her, and fuck, maybe she really did wake him up.

Except all he does is sigh sleepily and reach for her.

Zelda, who was so exhausted and cold and tipsy a moment ago, melts.

* * *

The first time she plans dinner when he’s running late is mostly a success. She picked up a bottle of fancy French soda, the garlic bread is in the oven, and the sauce will come together soon.

There’s just one complication.

“You burned the spaghetti?”

She looks at the pot of clearly burned spaghetti. “No.”

He laughs, and redoes his ponytail to wash his hands and start slicing garlic. “Why didn’t you just get a bigger pot for the noodles?”

“Leave me alone,” she says, bumping her hip into his.

“No.”

He drops the knife to hug her. She tries to wriggle her way out of his grip to no avail.

* * *

When Sidon’s birthday rolls around, Zelda gets home earlier this time. Link insists that she go to bed, but he said he’d be home before three and she can wind down with some TV anyway.

(And if she checks his location every fifteen minutes and glances at the door every twenty to see if the lock will turn, what of it?)

When he does come in, she tries her hardest to look casual, and not like she’s been pining for the last two hours, and knew exactly when he would come home.

“Hello,” she says.

“Hi,” he replies, voice a little croaky. His hair is down fully, and he looks tired.

“Fun night?”

He shakes his head and smiles. “A little too fun. We went to that karaoke bar you recommended.”

“Nice!” She pats the seat next to her. “What’d you sing?”

“‘Home’.” When he sits down he smells like beer. “That Edward, something, Magnetic one?”

“Oh yeah. That’s a good one.”

“What’re you watching?”

“Oh.” She turns back to the TV. “Something silly. Paris Hilton has a cooking show now.”

“Huh.”

“Here’s a glass of water.” She lifts it off the coffee table. “Drink up so tomorrow morning isn’t that bad.”

His smile turns sheepish. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“You know,” he says later while they watch Paris Hilton make the worst French toast in the world, “sometimes I hate going out.”

“Why?” she asks, surprised.

“Home is nice,” he explains. He puts his head on her shoulder. “Warm and clean. And”--he hesitates, and she wonders if he’s going to say something cheesy because he always stops before that—”you’re here.”

“So cheesy,” she says.

He scrunches up his nose. “I know.”

She laughs and takes his hand. “But I get it. Welcome home.”

* * *

Months later, over a bowl of vegetable soup, he asks her if she’s sure this was a good idea.

Zelda looks up from her phone. “What?”

“When we first moved in together,” he explains around a bite of pasta and carrots and beans, “you asked me if I was sure this was a good idea.”

She laughs, and takes a sip. The tomato flavor is especially tangy today. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” she says with a shrug, “this place is everything we wanted. Hardwood, big kitchen, good light.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I'm asking.”

She smiles. “I know.”

She places a hand over his. He raises an eyebrow and asks, “So?”

“I think,” she starts, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back and smiles. “I think this was the best idea ever. Having someone to come home to is nice.”

His smile grows soft. “The best?”

She nods, sure of it. “The best.”

[thechekhov]

I had a fast question about commissions. My sister is an artist, and she’s having trouble figuring out pricing. How did you figure out your prices?

The basic idea for an artist looking to start commissions is to do hourly pricing. 

(More professional/experienced artists might use a different rubric. Your mileage may vary, etc.)

The first thing to do? Identify some stuff you (or in this case your sister) wants to draw. 

For example, I like drawing black and white a lot, so that’s one of my offered commissions. The other kinds can be anything you want. 

Examples of some common commission ‘types’:

full-body black and white commission

portrait style commissions (shoulders and up)

character reference sheet commissions (usually full body, full color, displayed for simplicity of viewing, may show off extra items or colors)

backgrounds or concept sketches

pet illustrations, etc

After choosing a few things you’re most confident in (and I stress this: DON’T OFFER COMMISSIONS OF THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE/AREN’T COMFORTABLE DRAWING! It’ll end in disaster.) sit down and think about HOW LONG it takes for you to draw a single thing.

When you have some ideas of how long it takes you to draw a specific type of drawing (and you should, by this stage, have several examples of this kind of drawing on hand so you can simply try to recall how much each one took) you can apply an HOURLY RATE.

When deciding an HOURLY RATE, I greatly recommend going for a minimum of $15/hour. That’s a reasonable minimum wage and gives you wiggle room. 

So, if we go with $15 per hour, any drawing that takes you an hour to make would be $15. Any drawing that takes 2 hours would be $30 - etc. 

FAQ: 

What if I take a really long time to draw? 😰

If you’re one of those artists that ‘snacks’ or productivity (comes in, does 5 minutes of work, goes away for a week, comes back again, does 3 more minutes, etc) then you’re going to have to go for estimates.

If you’re one of those artists that is a perfectionist and it takes you 20 minutes to decide where to put the line, or if you go back in and erase/redo things so much that the time you spend on something ends up being inflated - that’s fine too! But you’ll probably need to adjust things accordingly. 

Again, I’m serious - don’t offer things you aren’t comfortable drawing! I used to be TERRIFIED of drawing animals because I couldn’t get their likeness down and spent 3+ hours on a simple sketch. I refused most animal-based commissions because I knew I either didn’t have the confidence to do it, or I would take too dang long because my skill-set wasn’t applicable. After specifically focusing on some animal-based drawings, I became able to whip up a pet portrait relatively easily, which cut down my time for them as well. 

I feel like my commissions are overpriced... 😢

A LOT of people feel this way when they post commissions and get no takers. Sometimes, opportunistic assholes may even say ‘your art isn’t worth __!!’

But the reality is - your art ISN’T a necessity like toilet paper or food. It’s a luxury item - fanart, commissions, etc are things that you DON’T NEED but want anyway. And because they aren’t a necessity, there’s no need to price them low enough to make people unwilling to pay more than $10 comfortable. 

If someone is complaining that a commission costs ‘too much’ then I would simply ask - too much for what? No one *needs* a commission like their life depends on it. If you don’t have the cash, then you don’t need to pay. Someone else will want to pay, and that’s the person worth waiting for.

What if no one buys my commissions? 😓

I’m going to tell you the cold, hard truth - there’s a good chance no one will! 

At first, when you start out offering commissions, unless you already have people begging you to take commissions and/or you have a significant following... no one will ask for commissions.

Does this mean your commissions are bad? No. 

Does this mean your commissions cost too much? No.

Does this mean--

It means you have not found your customer niche yet. 

If you have a lemonade stand and you go and set up in a low-traffic area where no-one knows you, will you get lots of customers? Probably not. If you go to a city that’s full of other, more experienced lemonade shops, and try to set up nearby, will people buy your lemonade instead? Not likely. If you go to to your local neighborhood and ask your uncle to buy lemonade, will he? Eh, yeah, maybe. 

The 3 scenarios above are like posting your commissions info to, say, a new tumblr blog with very few followers, to Twitter, and to Facebook, respectively. None of these scenarios change how good your lemonade may be - but they are nonetheless environmental factors in who wants to purchase your work when they’re not familiar with your style, your manner, and yourself as a person. 

Don’t blame yourself - take your lemonade stand and move it, or make a funky commercial, or reach out to other lemonade-sellers and drink THEIR lemonade and hang out in the lemonade community to get more info on how to improve sales. 

Anyway, fellow artists, please add on to this! I’m sure I missed details and there’s more to be said here, but that’s my ‘fast’ answer! Haha... 

[ffxivaltaholic]

~Prompt #5: Cutting Corners~

“Do you have any idea how IRRISPONSIBLE, CHILDISH and STUPID you are??? How much trouble you’ve now caused?”  The enraged voice belonged to an understandably angry Raen man.  “The house is a mess! The Chocobos are all in a huff and there are drunk Namazu wandering about the premise!!!! What in Azim’s name made you think this was a good idea???”  

-Record Scratch-

“You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this little predicament... Well... It all began with...”

"Chores!?!?!?! But I wanted to work on my tan!!!!!”  Whining loudly, the Seeker flicked her fluffy tail in protest, ears lowering as her signature pout and kitten-eyes appeared on her lovely face. “That wont work with me.  Everyone in the Company has to pull their weight, and that includes you. No freeloading.”  Despite the soft voice, the small Raen woman held firm and stood, hands on hips, over their bed where N’akani was sprawled out painting her nails. Another high pitch whine left the Seeker and she rolled on her back in a huff.  “But Ame... The house is already clean though, and I did a chore yesterday.” A chore, which she had done poorly and the Raen had been forced to redo correctly hours later.  Giving a frustrated sigh, Ame scowled at her mooch of a girlfriend and shook her head.  “No ifs, ands, or buts! You need to sweep the Chocobo stables, wash the bar dishes and dust the main rooms upstairs and in the basement.  At most it should take you maybe two or three hours.  Then come to the tea house to relieve Isanii for her break.” All in all, it was not much of a difficult request considering the Seeker did not pay for food or rent, and at most she would spend a few hours out of her day actually helping out. “Hmphf, fiiiiine.”  As if N’akani really had a choice at the moment. Locking eyes with the doll-like Raen, her expression softened.  “Will you make me that honey and almond cake again?”  It was her favorite from the tea house, but something Ame rarely made since the cake was time consuming and delicate. After considering the request, Ame finally caved and rolled her eyes.  “Alright, but only if you do everything I’ve asked of you.  I’ll be in the infirmary most of the day, so when I’m done I’ll come to the tea house and make it for you to eat after your shift.”  A fair deal really, considering N’akani’s jobs were so simple a mammet could complete them. “Deal!!!”  

- - -

It wasn’t until after the Raen had left that it dawned on the Seeker that she actually had to do the work now... And she had just painted her nails too. Grumbling to herself, N’akani decided to start with dusting, since it was the easiest of the jobs and the one she could slack the most with.  Taking the small feather duster, she made her way to the main room where a sound caught her attention. “I win yes yes!” “No, you cheated yes! “I saw, he won he won yes!” The three Namazu were playing a board game at the main table, and badly at that. They were technically members of the company, even though their employment was more of a hindrance sometimes, and they certainly weren’t the brightest.  Usually they were there to keep others company and ensure there was always someone at the Company House during extended times. Occasionally they did small chores under direct supervision. !!!!

An idea struck her. Namazu were rather agreeable, and they loved tea as much as she loved alcohol, with a similar effect as well.  She worked at the tea house, full of tea...  A plan formulated in her head and the Seeker plotted.  Approaching them, she used her sweetest voice to first try and persuade the three to help with chores, but they were getting wise to her over the months.  They declined quite quickly, ignoring her honied words and begging eyes.

Time for plan B! “Wellllllll... How about a trade? You help me with just a few wee chores, and I make you some tea!  With the three of you it would go so much faster!” In her mind, this was perfect.  One Namazu to clean the dishes, one to dust the rooms and a third to clean the stables.  Everything would get done in less time, meaning she could sneak in a nap before her shift at the tea house. “Maybe trade yes... But want tea now yes!” The first was stubborn, and from his words the other two agreed.  “Some tea now yes! We do chores, then rest of tea after!” “Yes yes! Good deal!” Narrator: It was, in fact, a horrible deal. - - - Unfortunately, N’akani misunderstood how effective the tea was for the little catfish, and after making them a pot and assigning their tasks, she went for her nap. Despite a pleasant sleep, she was awoken with someone yelling her name in fury.  The voice belonged to nonother that her other partner Kaze.  He was yelling her name and stomping through the house. It was at this moment, she knew, she fucked up.

- - -

“And that is how we got to this point...” Ultimately, N’akani spent the rest of the evening cleaning under supervision from both Raens.  One could hope the Miqo’te woman learned her lesson... But it was doubtful. 

[tacticaldiary]

Blame it on the Rain

Pairing: Reader x Tetsurou Kuroo

Genre: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst

When the rain spoils their picnic, Y/N is determined to spend time with Kuroo, even if it means walking to his house alone at night. What she didn’t plan on was being saved and tickled half to death by her dork of a boyfriend.

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

"Tetsu, calm down." Y/N rolls her eyes and closes the blinds to her room, blocking out the gloomy rain outside. The curtain did nothing to block out the pitter patter of the water and under normal circumstances, she would enjoy the peaceful, rhythmic sounds. This, however, was not a normal circumstance. This was the same rain that had ruined their long-awaited picnic plans.

The same rain that is currently forcing her to deal with a sulky Kuroo over the phone.

"I had a whole thing planned. You would've totally fallen for me."

"….We've been dating for three years."

"Not the point."

Y/N sighs, sitting at the edge of her bed. She had really been looking forward to the picnic as well. Both of them had been unbelievably busy this week. The outing was supposed to let them de-stress. Picking at the corner of her sheets, her gaze drifts to the covered window again. It was night-time. She just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend, was that too much to ask?

Struck with the sudden urge to see him, she sits up. She had been tuning his sulky voice out for the past few minutes.

"I'm coming over."

There's a second of surprised silence from the other end.

"In the rain? I know you're eager to see me, kitten, but you'll get sick."

"Ever heard of an umbrella" she rolls her eyes, already gathering her keys and wallet. "We can have a movie night. Maybe you'll stop sulking then."

"I do not sulk."

"Sure."

"I don't!"

"Mhm. See you in 15 minutes." She shuts her front door and shivers a little as the cold hits her.

You can't watch a movie without snacks. That was Y/N excuse to the two bags of food she had in her hand. She had stopped by a convenience store on the way, and although the bags, heavy with treats, made her feel excited, she couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was being watched. It had started when she had left the store.

She stops at a nearby bench and pretends to redo her shoelaces, glancing around discreetly. As she had expected, Y/N catches someone slip into a nearby alleyway and out of sight. Fear grips her in a tight vice and she quickly gathers her things and starts walking again.

Kuroo wasn't far now. She reassures herself, thinking about how he would gather her up in a warm hug, like he usually did.

Then the footsteps behind her get heavier and quicker. Clenching her jaw she comes to a dead stop and turns around. Not seeing anyone, she yells.

"Why the hell are you following me?"

There's no response.

"You're a fucking coward. What do you want?"

After a few seconds, she hears shuffling, and a man appears out from a nearby shadowed alley. He's grinning in a way that means trouble.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing walking all alone. It's rather dangerous at this time." He moves closer to her, till he's about an arm length away. Y/N refuses to back down. She wouldn't show how scared she was.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I suggest you leave me alone, now." Her voice is cold.

"Aw, don't be like that. I'll walk you home, how about that?" She could tell he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Kuroo was growing steadily worried. It had been half an hour, double the time Y/N said she would be here by. He knew she couldn't be lost, she made her way to his house at least once a week.

Deciding to go and look for her, he grabs his jacket and walks off with an umbrella. He walks about 5 minutes before he sees the problem. It's a little hard to make out in the rain, but he could see his girlfriend being...confronted by another guy. She was clearly uncomfortable, and Kuroo narrows his eyes ready to intervene when the guy grabs her arm.

He stops however, when he sees Y/N kick at his knee and twisting his arm, pushing the guy away from her, sending him tumbling to the ground. A small, prideful smirk grows on his face. That was his Y/N all right.

"I told you to stay the fuck away from me." She sneers looking down at him. "Hope you're happy, getting your ass beat by a 'pretty little thing'" she mocks, before turning around to leave.

She's stopped when she feels someone yank at her ankle, and she loses her balance catching herself on her knees. She yelps as she feels her assaulters grubby fingers pull on her hair painfully.

The guys spews profanities at her and Y/N struggles, a little panicked. She should have ran away. She should have just sprinted to Kuroo’s house.

Her pain is momentary, however, as the hand in her hair vanishes and the profanities are replaced with a groan, laced with pain.

Someone else grabs her, but this time, the hands are familiar. Large, warm and calloused. Looking up, she sees her boyfriend crouching by her side, looking her over for injuries.

"Tetsu-"

"Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

She answers him with a shaky no. He was mad. She could tell by his sharp voice and clenched jaw. His eyes held fury, but not towards her. He nods and stands back up, turning to the offender.

"You usually touch girls who don't wanna be touched?" He grabs the guy by the collar, yanking him closer.

Kuroo towers over the guy, using his height and build to intimidate. It works. The guy frantically shakes his head. He glances back at Y/N, who still looks shaken up, before hissing quietly.

"The only reason you're still able to stand is because of the lady over there. You glance in her direction again, and I'll make sure you'll regret it. Got it?" He shoves the guy back to the ground after he nods fearfully, and watches him scramble away.

Kuroo immediately turns to Y/N, who hesitates for a second, before throwing herself at the boy. He catches her easily and holds her close, stroking her hair and allowing her to calm down. It takes a few minutes, but once she’s calm enough to speak, Y/N untangles himself from her and thanks him, grabbing the bags from the floor.

“I shouldn't have let you walk alone. I won’t let it happen again. Never again, you hear me?” he says gently, taking the bags from her, ignoring her protests. He grabs her hand and leads her the rest of the way.

When they get home, Kuroo makes sure the door is locked behind them. They settle onto the couch and Kuroo lets Y/N flip through the movies. Once she puts on one of her favourites, Kuroo sighs dramatically, claiming they’ve seen it a million times.

He takes her soft giggle as a win.

Kuroo then shamelessly lays back on the couch and pulls Y/N on top of him, wrapping a secure arm around her waist. She hums in contentment as the movie starts.

Kuroo’s honestly not paying attention at all. His thoughts keep drifting back to the fear he felt when that sorry excuse for a human was hurting her. He gently runs his hands through his hair, and chuckles when she practically melts against him.

“You know,” he speaks up suddenly, “You don't have to pretend to be brave around me, kitten. I can tell that shook you up pretty badly.”

She shifts so she can meet his gaze. “I know. I trust you. I’m fine now, I think.”

He hums. “I love you.” he says casually, smiling down at her.

Y/N can feel her heartbeat quicken, as it always did when he said those three magic words and looked at her adoringly like that. She pretends to think. “I think I might love you too. I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Oh really?” he says with an amused smirk.

“Yep. Maybe you should try taking me on a picnic. I’d totally fall for you then.” She mimics him on the last part, lowering her voice comically.

“I do not sound like that.” he says, stifling a laugh and rolling his eyes.

“You do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.” She sticks out her tongue childishly.

“You leave me no choice. For the record, love, I didn’t want it to come to this.” She’s confused for a second, but her eyes widen as she feels Kuroo’s fingers graze her sides. Before she can stop him, he’s tickling her, the arm around her waist pinning her against him, preventing her from escaping.

Between bursts of giggle she tries to get him to stop, but he refuses, demanding she surrender.

“A-alright! You don’t- don’t sound like t-that!” she laughs, taking a sigh of relief when he finally stops.

“There. Was that so hard?‘ he teases.

“Shut up.” She smacks his arm lightly. “You made me miss the movie!”

“You’d rather watch a boring movie than receive my affection? I’m offended.”

“Shush!” she settles back down, the two slipping into a comfortable silence. Almost as an afterthought, Y/N says:

“I love you too.” She can practically feel him grinning, as he pecks her on the head. She’s content with knowing she has the same effect on him as he has on her.

The quickening of his heartbeat gives it away.

Requests are Open and Welcome

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing I(.5)

A/N: This is the sort of backstory to Harry and you, I think it can be read on its own if you want, or before you read the first part too. It’s angsty af, but it has some death and sensitive topics jsyk. I tried to keep it concise but it got a little wordy as angst does. xx

Part 1

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

About 12 Years Ago:

“So are you coming to that party or not?” My roommate asks. She was one of the first people I’d met last year when we started uni and even though we came from different backgrounds we remained friends over the last year, even choosing to room together again. She got me to open up and find the extroverted part of me that was able to enjoy uni outside of academics.

“Ugh, I’m volunteering for the voting booths for the rest of the week. Maybe if I can make it?”

“You’re actually doing that?” She scrunches her nose. “I don’t get it. You’re just way too nerdy to be my friend.”

“And yet you loove me,” I squeeze her against me and she laughs. “It’s my mom, she said I had to do at least one extracurricular so I could meet friends this year.”

“You already have friends,” she points to herself, and with her came her group of friends that’d quickly taken me in last year.

And my mom doesn’t like that I hang out with you, I think. She thought we partied too much even though my grades stayed decent. “She wants me to have nerdy friends too, I dunno. They’re helping me pay my tuition until I get a job so I kinda have to play nice.”

“Parents suck,” my roommate flicks through her closet. I agreed, this was just something I would get through to get through. Then they would leave me alone for the rest of the year.

Little did I know the person they’d partner me with at my polling station was someone who would be in my life for the next decade.

“I’m Harry by the way,” he’d said after we received our orientation and assigned the building we were going to babysit the votes in. “Second year.”

“Me too! I’m Y/N. What’s your major? I’ve never seen you around.”

“Law--well I haven’t decided if it’s law but that’s what I’m in right now.”

“Really? Law?” I was openly judging, he just didn’t seem the law type.

“Well what are you in?” He demands.

“Business,” I cringe.

“Really? Business?” He has a cheeky smile on, one that would become familiar to me.

“Well, you just don’t seem like the law type. They’re usually more uptight, dress way too smart for me.”

“I know, it’s like, we’re not even in the courtroom yet,” he joins in and it makes me laugh--how he could poke fun at his own people. That’s when I knew we would get along fine, and I actually looked forward to the next few days getting to know him better.

“I’m definitely telling my mum about you, she’s been begging me to make friends outside of my circle. I’ll tell her I’m friends with a law student.”

“So we’re friends already?” We’d reached our booth and began setting up the partitions. He takes over when I set it up wrong.

“Obviously,” I say. “I actually like you which means you’ll have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“I’m alright with that,” he grins and I notice the laugh lines that are brought to life as he does. It somehow made him seem more genuinely.

We spend the rest of the time swapping stories, classes, rants. We check student IDs and hand out voting cards in between but it doesn’t feel like a drag anymore. At the end of the day, I invite him to the party my roommate was going to with our friends. If he was going, maybe I would too. He seemed like he might be fun at a party.

“Er,” he suddenly seems nervous. “I’ll have to ask my girlfriend, she wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Well bring her too!” I say excitedly. “Is she law as well?”

“No, she’s in the arts.”

“I like her already,” I push. “Bring her, my friends are fun you’ll learn how to have a good time.”

“I know how to have a good time,” there was the flash of his dimples again. “Text me the address.”

And thus began a friendship for the next four years, partying together, studying together (trying to), and hanging out in each other’s rooms. We would set each other up with other friends, double dated, went out for sunrise-hikes, and took long drives at night when we had to blow some steam off from being over-stressed, over-studied uni students. Our friend circles overlapped, the fabric of our lives eventually bleeding together. We were made of the same fibers, sticking together even after uni, when our friends got more serious about their careers. When they moved out of the country or to another city, we made sure to rent places close enough that we could still see each other often. And somehow, in the new chapter of our lives, without the partying and our other friends to buffer, we became closer than before.

We cared for each other--we didn’t deny that ever. And somehow that platonic love turned romantic as we depended on each other while we navigated adulthood. I can’t exactly pinpoint where things changed, but one evening our relationship was changed forever.

7 years ago:

“She literally wants me to stay until 7, and she was offended when I said no! I’m not even getting paid for that!” I was bitching to Harry about my shitty job.

“That’s bollocks” Harry shrugs. “Just say you’ve got family obligations or something.”

“I said that the one time she wanted us to come in on a weekend and she gave me shite work the following week! I just...I can’t afford to lose this job Harry.”

“That’s shitty, I’m sorry.” He takes the last swig of his beer. “Want another one?”

“I haven’t even finished this one,” I moan at my now warm beer that I’d been nursing for the last hour, too busy ranting to drink it. “It’s getting late though I should head home before it’s dark. Don’t want that nutter that hangs around my building to harass me again.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Harry suggests. He lived a 15 minute walk from me.

“No no,” I get up and take our dirty dishes to the sink. “I didn’t even ask about you, how was your day?”

“Same old,” he sighs against the counter. “I feel like I don’t fit in, everyone my age is finishing their law degree but I don’t think I want to.”

“I knew from the day I met you, you weren’t destined for the courtroom.” I pull him into a comforting hug. “Do what makes you happy, or what doesn’t make you want to say fuck it and quit your job to hibernate.”

“You really know the perfect thing to say,” Harry chuckles but he pulls me tighter against him. I stroke his back, reassuring him he’d be alright in the end.

“Y/N-” he pulls away to say something but freezes mid sentence. I raise an eyebrow but he’s still, staring at my face.

“Harry?” I ask, but he continues staring. “Hello? You alright?”

“Yeah,” he breaks into a sudden smile. That was weird--I make sure he’s okay before letting go.

Before I leave, I kiss Harry’s cheek goodbye--I was never shy in the affection I gave my friends and Harry’s bummed mood needed extra affection tonight. But what I don’t expect is for him to catch me before I pull away, staring intently into my eyes. The lighthearted energy between us disappears instantly as it dawns on me, how close we were, the unspoken feelings in his eyes, the hesitation before he presses his lips to mine.

I kissed him back then, barely understanding what was happening, before pulling away. I give him a smile but that’s just what he sees at the tip of the iceberg, underneath my mixed feelings churn away. My best friend just kissed me, and I wasn’t totally mad about it.

“It’s getting dark I-” I say as Harry says, “Sorry was that okay?”

We laugh awkwardly, neither of us sure what to do at this point. We decide to ignore it instead.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Harry lets me go and opens the door for me. “Watch out for the neighbourhood nutter yea?”

I stand in place, feeling the fibers of our friendship unraveling but feeling hopeless in mending the tear. “Take care Harry.”

I high tail it out, my thoughts going at an impossible rate as I sort out what happened. And we try to ignore it the next couple weeks,

We hadn’t made it official then, too nervous to face what this meant about our friendships. It was only at my sister’s wedding, that I realised what was wrong between us. I’d been mourning our old friendship, and avoiding him in the weeks since the kiss. But what I didn’t realise was that our friendship had been changing over the last year anyway, and getting drunk on champagne and dancing with Harry, while my sister celebrated the happiest day of her life, made me realise there was a cause for celebration here: a new chapter in our lives.

A couple days later, after a stressful day at work, I’d taken the tube to his flat and waited for him outside. He was surprised to see me there, not saying much except to open the door and let me in. As soon as he’d closed it, my lips were attached to his and we’d let our bags drop, coats, and any piece of clothing between us. After that night, we didn’t even try to deny how we felt about each other.

“I didn’t think I could ever be this happy,” he’s whispered to me after. I thought he’d fallen asleep but his whisper in the dark made me grin to myself. “Are you awake.”

“I am. Awake and happy.” I turn to face him, giggling. “Who knew this could feel so right.”

“Our first kiss was quite wrong though wasn’t it?” Harry says and it makes me laugh.

“That’s why I needed to do a redo,” I tease. “Can’t leave you to plan anything.”

“It wasn’t planned I swear, I was trying to be spontaneous.”

“Let’s not try ‘spontaneous’ again then,” I kiss him in the dark. He pulls me snug against him, I never knew how safe it felt. The safest I would ever feel, wrapped in the warmth with my best friend and now something else.

It was a good few months, testing the waters as our relationship underwent a transformation. All of our friends were supportive, but we never missed the glances between them. Apparently, they were waiting for this to happen. But as sweet as those first few months had been, finding out my mum was sick with a timeline was devastating. I came apart at the seams but Harry stayed through it all, holding me together. He’d proposed then, wanting my mum to be part of the ceremony. We had a small wedding, intimate but still magical. It was bittersweet, the amount of love and happiness I felt towards Harry and our loved ones around us as he said I do and as he took my arm and swept me across the dancefloor. But the amount of sadness crushing my chest kept me from being the weightless bride I always thought I would be.

Through it all, Harry stayed by my side. While we were hopeful, the day our hopes were dashed, the days and weeks I mourned. When my sister and her husband came to stay with their crazy toddlers and Harry kept them entertained giving my sister and I time together. I thought he was perfect, that I’d lucked out.

That lasted a few years, 3 and a half to be exact. There were months leading up to our split and we could point to a bunch of things that could’ve led to it. a) him wanting kids, and me wanting to wait or b) long hours we worked as we changed careers and tried to make our way up or c) how hard getting pregnant actually was. Maybe I pushed him away, or he didn’t love me enough to try and make it work.

I think I lied to myself, avoiding the tension creeping into the relationship. The tired excuses and time spent apart, the lack of usual affection, or casual conversations. I was an idiot, I realise every time I think about the end in retrospect. Maybe if I caught on earlier I could have fixed us before we fell apart. Maybe I could have saved us.

“There’s someone coming in Tuesday morning to fix the broken washer, will you be home?” I ask, still in bed and scrolling through my phone. I hadn’t meant to be up this early but Harry woke me as he got up and I couldn’t fall back asleep.

“No,” Harry responds, his back to me as he ruffles through the dresser. “I’ve got a thing that morning.”

“Well I’ve got to go in early Tuesday-I thought you might be home.” I say. I hear an edge to Harry’s voice but I try not to focus on it. He’d been a little cold all weekend and I was scared to think what it meant.

“You couldn’t be bothered to check in when you confirmed the date?” Harry asks harshly.

“I...guess not.” I put my phone down and wait for Harry to turn, maybe I could read his expression. Maybe he was stressed. “Harry?”

“What?” He turns, but he looks at me with no emotion. No stress, no frustration, not even anger. It’s the lack of emotion in his face that cause my eyes to prick with tears. Harry raises his eyebrows and I shake my head, untangling myself from the sheets so he doesn’t see any tears. I rush to the bathroom but forget to close the door out of habit.

“Y/N,” a kinder Harry appears by the doorway. His face has smoothed out the harsh lines, his eyes hesitant and cautious.

“What’s happened with us?” I blurt out. “Why are you so cold all the time? Am I doing something wrong?”

Harry’s face falls and he walks towards me but doesn’t touch me. “It’s nothing like that. It’s...I don’t know. We should talk.”

He reaches his hand out but I flinch away. “Did you meet somebody new or something? What are we talking about?”

“Let’s not do this here. Right now.”

“Why not!” I finally had enough. “I’ve been walking on eggshells for months Harry! I don’t know what’s wrong and I keep waiting for you to bloody tell me!”

“This isn’t working!” Harry raises his voice to compensate for mine. I’m immediately silenced by the volume, and then the words sink in.

“Is there someone else?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, his gaze on the hanging vines by the window. My heart drops into my stomach like a boulder, and I find it hard to breathe. I clutch the porcelain sink and ask in a surprisingly even tone, “Harry. Answer me.”

“What we have, Y/N...it’s dysfunctional.” He says quietly, meeting my eyes. “It doesn’t matter if there’s someone else, we’ve been fighting for months. Things aren’t the same between us-”

“Who is she?” I ask. I needed to know.

“That’s not relevant,” he shuts my question down quickly. “I’m sorry Y/N, I...I don’t want to hurt you. I care about you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” I’d pleaded. “We can go to counseling, talk it through-”

“I can’t Y/N.”

“Because of her.”

“No, because this isn’t good for either of us.” He’d walked up to me, cradled my face. “We’re not good for each other, not like this.”

“Who is she?” I yank his hands away.

“She’s...it doesn’t matter, I swear nothing happened between us Y/N. Knowing who she is isn’t going to help this situation--”

“It is! If it weren’t for her, you’d be willing to work on us--to see a future. You...Harry how could you do this to me? To us?” The tears come with no control. “You’re moving on before we’re even over. How are you giving up on us like that?”

“I’m not!” his voice booms in the tiled bathroom. “I’m not bloody giving up on us! I tried Y/N, so many times. I tried! You just keep pushing at me to be someone I’m not and-”

“I can say the same thing about you!” I throw the brush in my hands into the sink. “We were good! And you got it in your head you wanted a baby even though we’re young, oh my god Harry you kept pestering me to change my mind even though I told you I needed time!”

“It’s not like we could have a fucking baby anyway,” Harry says bitterly before realising what he’d said. “Shit-”

“There you go,” I mock. “I knew it. I knew you were holding that against me. And that,” I jab my finger into his chest. “Is what’s made you so moody, so mean and why we’re always fighting. You held it against me.”.

There was absolute truth to what I said. Last year, Harry had brought the baby topic up. I’d told him we were only in our mid-20s, we had a lot of time, and we still had a career to establish. But he would bring up the topic often enough that I’d given in.To make him happy. And months went by, trying for a baby. Went we finally went to our doctor, she’d told us why it was so hard, it could take us years she’d said.

Harry came home that day dejected, and left me feeling like a failure. I think it tore us up.

“You wanted a baby so fucking bad and when I couldn’t, it made me feel like a complete failure. And I told you that! And you did absolutely nothing to make me feel better. You held it against me, Harry! You didn’t even try to tell me it was okay.”

“It’s not so fucking simple,” he says, his cheeks flushed pink. Maybe it was anger, or maybe it was embarrassment from being confronted with an ugly truth.

“It is. And now you’ve upgraded to a newer model, maybe her version comes with a fertile womb.” I take the cheap shot.

He doesn’t say anything though. And I don’t know why that hurts more than knowing he’d fallen for another woman while he was still married to me. My best friend in the whole world had just broken my heart into a million irrevocable pieces.

“It’s a bunch of things Y/N,” he finally says. “That’s just part of it. We’re not...we’re just not working!”

“Did you even try to make it work?” I ask, swiping my sleeve across my face. “Did you ever think how I felt? How you made me feel Harry? You’ve been slipping away from me without talking to me-” I break off. I couldn’t speak through the heartbreak, the thunderstorm of grief threatens to consume me and my sobs are the only thing that manages to come out.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Harry tries to place a hand on my shoulder but I jerk away, moving to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Y/N...”

“Just go,” I say through the tears.

“We can talk more about this later-”

"Just go,” I say louder.

Harry’s phone rings again from the bedroom and he sighs. But he leaves me, crying on the bathroom floor. The sadness that was always in my peripheral consumes me. I’d carried this sadness for a long time--ever since I found out my mum was sick, the sadness plagued me. I’d neatly packed it up once I decided to move forward with my life like my mum would want me to, but now it comes back tenfold, marrying the grief of losing Harry like this. And I stay on the floor crying my grief away for hours, eventually crawling into bed and sleeping the daylight away.

When I wake, it’s 6 and Harry isn’t home. I take that as a sign and get up to pack up a few things. I call my sister who still lived in London then, and crash on her couch, staying there for a few weeks and ignoring any call or text from Harry. When I need to go back, for my things, I find him sleeping on the couch with the TV on, something I always found endearing. But I can’t afford to dwell on how much it hurt seeing him like that.

He must have woken from the noise because when he finds me, he tries to stop me and tell me that we still needed to talk.

“About what?” I ask, just tired now. Too many tears shed and too many hours laying awake thinking about the exact moment we went wrong.

“Us,” Harry looked tired too. He was probably throwing himself into his work with nothing like me to hold him back, I think bitterly. His girlfriend had probably already been to our house--his house.

“What about us?” I barely look at him as I begin folding away all my clothes.

“I don’t know,” Harry sits on the bed. “Don’t you want to talk?”

“I’ve got nothing to say, do you?”

Harry sighs, “I don’t know.”

“Nice talk then,” I say, shoving the rest of my things in just so I could get out.

“I just want you to know I care about you Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you.” He says as I pack.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. If you cared about me, and you didn’t want to hurt me you wouldn’t have done this to us.”

“I wasn’t trying to--I didn’t mean to go and fall for someone else-”

“Just stop,” I cut him off. I couldn’t hear it, how the man I loved fell for someone else. I couldn’t break down here. Again.

He said he cared but it didn’t feel that way. It hurt more than I wished to admit. He knew what I’d been through and he still betrayed me, tossed my heart like it was replaceable. The cut he left in me ran deep.

As I leave he tries to talk to me, but I barrel past him. He still reaches for me and pulls me into a hug, I struggle against him but he’s too strong. He wraps me in his arms until I go still but it’s too much. A sob escapes me, and this time he lets me push him off and leave, my bag banging into my hips every time I take a step. As soon as I got into my Uber, I can’t stop crying. There was an infinite pool of tears where Harry was involved.

3 years ago:

My trust and my heart had been been lost in the war between Harry and I. It only took him a month to mail my divorce papers which sat collecting dust on my dining table until he showed up at work one day and demanded I sign them by the end of that week. I’d taken the day off the day I mailed those in, mourning the end of something that was once so safe and beautiful.

When a close friend calls me on a warm July afternoon, I don’t consider her warning that I shouldn’t check Instagram. That I still had Harry’s friends on my list. I open Instagram before she can tell me why, and see it. Harry was getting married, again. To the woman he gave up on us for. I try to zoom in on a picture without liking it, she was pretty...and blonde. She looked familiar--probably from his office. It didn’t take him long.

It was like someone had taken a retractor to the wound I thought had finally scabbed over. The physical proof that Harry had moved on is just the salt on the wound.

I cry myself to sleep that night.

2 Years ago;

The guy in front of me drones on about his job, mansplaining to me how a mortgage worked as if I wasn’t in finance myself. I excuse myself to use the restroom, checking my phone to see a text from my sister. She’d moved to Scotland this year, to where her husband was from, and I’d missed her terribly in the last year.

A little birdie told me your demon-ex just got divorced 🥂

I stare at the screen, chest feeling tight. I felt vindicated somehow, but I also felt a small bit of sadness. What a fuck-up.

Good for him I had texted back. A part of me wanted him to hurt the way he hurt me.

I went back to my date with a renewed enthusiasm. I’d ordered more wine and got so drunk he was actually interesting enough to take home.

About 1 year ago

“Y/N,” a voice from my past says, one that haunted me some nights. I turn as I exit the shop I was just in. I blink at the sight before me, Harry in a vest and hat. He realises what I’m staring at and laughs awkwardly. “I’m in uniform.”

“You’re...police?” I look up to his face finally. He hadn’t aged a day, although the hat he wears makes him look a little silly.

“Yeah I joined the force uhm...almost 4 years ago now...law didn’t really suit me.”

I know what he was doing, trying to find a baseline to have a conversation. But he was dead to me, and I didn’t want to invite him back in when I was finally forgetting about him.

"Seems like you dropped a lot of dead-weight four years ago.”

I watch his face fall as he realises I wasn’t going to pretend to be friendly.

“Seems that way to you,” he says cautiously. “But that’s not how it happened.”

I shrug. “So. I heard about the divorce. Must’ve been hard being put through that.”

I knew I was being petty, obviously I never got the closure I want (according to my therapist) and I wasn’t over him hurting me the way he did (also according to my therapist). This was how I got my peace, and it wasn’t the best version of me but it was the only one I knew how to be right now.

“Yep,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

He knew I wasn’t, I don’t know how but the way he stoops to my level I know he knows I hadn’t had a long term relationship since him.

“Not at the moment,” I say awkwardly. “Just focusing on my job...trying to get this promotion.”

“Sorry,” he seems to shake off whatever had come over him. “That was...nosy, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Having him be the bigger person sets something off in me, like there was an anger-bomb inside my mind where he lived and knowing that he was doing okay enough to be able to be the bigger person disrupts this calm I was trying to keep.

“Maybe you shoudn’t have stopped me to ask anything at all. We don’t have anything to talk about anyway.”

I turn around and start to walk away but he catches up, “I wasn’t trying to upset you-”

“Well you have a way of doing that. Please just leave me alone Harry.”

He huffs beside me, “After all this time, can’t we just bloody talk like two adults?”

I freeze and turn to him slowly. He seems to sense this was the wrong thing to say because he takes a step back. “After all this time? Are you serious? I was the one you left behind Harry when you went off to lives your best lift Harry. We’re not living the same life, and we’re not coming from the same bloody place. Don’t fucking patronize me and ask me to talk to you like an adult when you bring out the worst part of me. I meant what I said: I want you to leave me alone. And you know what, if we ever run into each other again, just don’t even talk to me. Pretend you don’t know me. I want nothing to do with you.”

He opens his mouth but his partner calls him from the shop’s entrance. He stays silent, letting me go. As soon as I turn the street corner I rush the rest of the way to the tube, collapsing into a seat and trying to sort out my breathing. It was a shitty feeling, knowing someone was going to be in your life forever because you shared so much history that even when that part of your life ended they were still there. There was so much apart of me, around me, that reminded me of him. And it felt so lonely carrying that around. I wanted to be done with him, I wanted my heart to purge him out. But it couldn’t stop carrying him around everywhere I go.

[kareofbears]

persona 5 strikers thoughts and feelings

This is going to be a long post. Like, the type of post you’d only really have time to read when you’re trying to sleep but you’re not ready to be unconscious yet so you’re just looking for something to do to spend your time with minimal effort. 

So in 2018, a masterpiece was born into the world: Into the Spider-verse was released and it was amazing—it’s honestly the best spiderman movie we have without a doubt, and it’ll be very far into the future before Spider-verse is beaten as the best spiderman movie. Them’s the facts. Then in 2019, Spider-man: Far From Home was dropped. It’s a great movie! Great characters, great continuation of who these characters are and works fantastic as a continuation of a story. It’s really hard trying to take the torch of a previous movie (or in Marvel’s case, juggling twenty something movies) and come up with a new movie that both works on its own, as well as being the next step in this series of films. Thus, with that idea in mind, I think it’s kind of unfair to judge into the spiderverse and far from home, because these are two movies with two completely different objectives in mind. 

Okay, so this is still a persona 5 strikers post, I promise, but the idea is the same: Persona 5 could basically do whatever it wanted—new story, new characters, new everything, and it’s just plain old awesome. However, Persona 5 strikers did not have that sort of freedom. It was bound to the original game, and it had its own rules and stuff it had to keep intact, characters they had to work with, and on top of that, it had to justify its existence as a sequel (lets pretend money doesnt exist lmfao). 

SO, the big question is: did it do that? Did it justify its existence? 

And my answer: holy fuck did it ever do that

I came into this game knowing the extreme bare minimum. I knew there was someone named Sophia, and i knew there was roadtrip, and i knew there were Personas. That’s my knowledge of it before i played it on the Switch.  I should also clarify like, early on, that i was not expecting anything from this game. At all. I was the world’s biggest cynic of this game—if you scroll down my p5s tag far enough, youll just see me complaining about a game that hasn’t even come out yet. I was fully expecting to have this be a Waifu show, and any male character that isn’t Akira to just be shoved aside like some kind of nerd in a high school hallway, and i have never been more pleased to be wrong. In fact, i actually owe it an apology, because of how fucking rude i was for no reason!!! Because this game deserves everything to be honest. 

Persona 5 strikers is, frankly, insane. Insane in the sense that it got to pull shit off that just would never have existed in the original game, because the original game is scared. It had to be as impressive as possible and garner as much attention as possible. Strikers does not have that problem—every single person who bought that game does not need to be convinced that persona 5 is a good game. They already played it. That means Atlus can just fuck around and have a good time, and man did they have a good time. There’s still scenes that still shock me if i think about it too hard, because i’m used to atlus having to follow this sort of rule set when it comes to persona 5 (or any of the main games im assuming, but i havent played them.) And on top of that, there’s still shit that’s Atlus Trademarked Branded in a good way. The style of story of story telling, and revealing the mystery that is so integral to what p5 is, is still there. 

So, to make this even a little bit comprehensible, i will make a list! 

First of all, What is this game?

In short, this game is an OVA of an anime. It’s bonus side content that has one thing in mind: to showcase these lovable characters more by putting them in fun situations. That’s it, and it is just phenomenal. That was the main point of, i’d say, like forty hours of the game. It’s just fun times with fun characters. 

But to get deeper of what i think is happening, or what they were thinking during the development, is that this is a second opportunity. Persona 5 (as we all know) had a lot of problems, and we were not quiet about those problems. We yelled it all out, made posts, made complaints on every social media platform ever. And Atlus heard all of them, and Strikers is a way to mitigate those mistakes. Aside from being a fun OVA, Strikers also works to be a deeper exploration of these characters—more specifically, the characters that did not receive much in the original game. Creating this sequel is having the ability to redo what they felt (or to be more specific, we felt) in the original game while adding new ones. I will get to that in a second.  

The format of the game 

Absolutely brilliant to throw them on a road trip. P5V already forced us to experience Shibuya for 200+ hours, and im so glad that they didn’t do that again. Going from town to town, making us experience these new places alongside our favorite characters is so good, and it just makes sense. It’s fun, it’s lighthearted, and it’s actually shockingly good. But one thing i do want to talk about early on is the way the story unfolds and the villains that they use, and what they do with it because it’s very interesting. 

So as we explore japan and stuff, we encounter jails, and with those jails comes an antagonist. This antagonist works to be a parallel to one of our characters. That character will find it in their hearts to feel bad for the antagonist, because the antagonist could have been them had the original game not happen. At first I thought all of the thieves were gonna get an antagonist, and i was really hyped for the ryuji one. And then came to hour forty of the game where i realized “yeah that’s not gonna happen. There’s just not enough time.” And i was right, and the game ended. But i am not salty at all, honestly, because the people who got a direct antagonist were: Ann, Yusuke, and Haru. (we wont count zen and sophie). 

Is there a trend??? Yes. these are all characters in the original game that have received the worst treatment by atlus. The three of them are basically cast aside the minute they finished their original arc, and its horrible! BUT that’s why this is the path that atlus chose for them—to give them more depth, and screentime, and a way to show their inner self. That isn’t to say that the ones who aren’t those three (makoto, futaba, mona, akira, ryuji) didn’t get anything. Futaba still has her thing at the end with ichinose, and she was very prevalent and animated during the rest of the game. Mona and Akira have to be a focal points, that’s just the nature of the game. The other two though, I will talk about in depth in a second.  

Makoto

Y’all i poke fun at shumako fans sometimes cause its kind of easy and fun, but i honestly love makoto. In my very first playthrough of p5 (my first ever jrpg game, first persona game, i had no idea what i was doing), i had only maxed out two characters: ryuji and makoto. And i know she had a lot of screentime and love in the original game which is great, but i truly felt like she was dissed in this game. Her only roles were

A driver

Someone to tell them “we don’t have a choice. Let’s keep going and see where this takes us.” (seriously, if you replay this game, you will see how much she does this)

Idk, i just wish she had more to do, especially compared to how much love they gave the other characters. 

But let’s talk about some of the new characters! 

Zenkichi

Damn you atlus. Damn you and your insistence at bringing in cop characters. I was fully on board with hating zenkichi, i was fucking ready for it. I was convinced that there was nothing they could do convince to like zenkichi. I was immune to their copaganda. 

And then i ended up loving him, which makes me sad a little bit. I didn’t realize how desperate i was to have an adult who has a persona. Someone who wants the world to change just as much as they do, while still having that aspect of them that makes them adult. Like??? As someone who is technically an adult, its a breath of fresh air. An adult. Who fights. For justice. Using a persona. And god i love akane so much, and her obsession with the thieves (that scene is probably in my top ten fave scenes of the game). Also what i loved about zenkichi is that he fucking hates the cops!! He hates the system of the cops!! And thats why i actually really started to love him!! Because i thought it was atlus saying that the systematic problem of the police cannot be solved by one person, and zenkichi threw away his badge. I actually cried at that part!! 

But then he became a cop again, and i was just :/ but as a character, i really love him to bits and would love to do a study on him, or at least use him as an outside pov. But! i absolutely love his persona, since im a les miserables fan hehe

Sophia 

she’s probably my favorite new aspect of the game. I was ready to not like her—again, i just suck like that, lmfao—and when i saw her, i was scared that she was just another waifu. I mean, she was very cute after all. But then as the game went on, i thought she was a little too cute. And even further into the game, i finally slapped myself in the face and realized oh my god shes not a waifu. Shes a sister. 

That blew my mind, im ngl to you. A female character that isn’t supposed to be romanced? By jove, what a miracle! 

And she…is an amazing character. Im sorry, i just love her so much. I love her so much that she  probably ranks as my fifth or sixth favorite character which is surprising even to me. Everything about her is delightful and invigorating. She’s funny??? Her comedic timing is amazing, and she has such chemistry with the rest of the team. She’s actually useful to the plot, and while her character design is a little too on the nose for me in terms of cuteness (i mean, good god she’s wearing oversized sweater to show how cute and tiny she is, and her hair has literal hearts in it), she is absolutely lovable. 

But what i actually really wanna gush about for a second is sophia at the last stage of the game. You get the idea, i dont really like to get excited over things, so at this point i figured that there was nothing this game could do to shock me. 

And then sophia had a persona awakening. 

Like. holy fuck did i yell. I didnt realize what was happening until the music had already kicked in. and its just so fucking smart!!! Sophia??? The ai?? With no heart?? gOT A PERSONA???? AWAKENING??? BECAUSE SHE LEARNED WHAT THE HEART IS AND THE PASSION THAT YOU NEED IN ORDER TO GET A PERSONA??? I started crying honestly, because it was just so smart. And looking back on it now, its obvious!! Of course it would lead to this, it only made sense that the culmination of her character arc leads to her getting a persona, nothing else would have been as good. Also, her voice actor is just amazing?? When she was talking to ichinose at the end, i actually got incredibly emotional because of the line reads. Its just so spot on and it really captures the essence of sophia.

Muah. five stars Atlus. You got me. 

Ryuji <3!!!!

Oh man. Oh boy. Okay. so where do i start. 

Yall know i love him. Hes probably my favorite fictional male character of all time, and he is the one i was the absolute most cynical about in this game. I was expecting literally nothing. Nothing. Like. nothing. I thought he was just gonna keep being used as a joke, or a gag, and he’s gonna be super horny all the time for the other girls and it was gonna make me mad and there was gonna be some insane homophobic/queerphobic jokes in every other scene and i know i was being unfair, but i cant help it. 

And then i played the first two hours of the game, and i cried the entire time. Because ryuji has never been better than he is in this game. Its crazy. 

The ryuji in persona 5 strikers is who ryuji should have been/how he should have been treated this entire time. From the actual funny jokes (for example, the gold bar joke + his reaction to it in the beginning of the game), defending his female friends instead of being the one people need to defend from (natsume arc), and the fact that he was the one to be there with morgana and akira in the very beginning of the game. Its such a small thing that they didnt even need to do, but it was such an integral part of the original game for me, that i just was convinced that nothing like this was going to happen. But then it happened. Its just small stuff like that that could have been overlooked but it wasn’t because this game? Persona 5 strikers? Fucking loves ryuji. 

The actual respect they gave this boy is insane and i wasn't ready for it. Like, they gave the shujin trio lunch, they gave the little charm of the katana when they were in natsume’s jail, and, in my opinion this is the second-best thing that they could have given ryuji is sophia. Ryuji and sophia are the pinnacle of a brother & sister bonding relationship in the game that isn’t akira & futaba. And its really prevalent too?? Small stuff from the beginning of the game (pulling her out of a jail, calling her shorty), but then you have the iconic “shut the fuck up” scene, and that scene was so well characterized and written and voice acted, that somehow him saying “fuck” was the least exciting part of that scene to me. Ryuji is an older brother to her, like its undoubtable, and its only further cemented at the end of the game where Ryuji helps out ichinose because he knows how much sophia cares about her. This game. Love ryuji. And i love. This game. 

You know what else i love? Akiryu. 

Guys. i was fully prepared to starve in terms of akiryu. But theres just. So much of it. I wont get too deep into it, because i think this aspect of the game for me still needs marinate a little bit. Like, what was that last shot when EMMA died and Ryuji walked to approach Akira so they could relish in their victory together?? And the smile from both of them??? What the fuck. That was amazing. Also Joker being saved by Ryuji when he was about to fall from the cliff to save sophia??? WHAT. The LEADER AND HIS RIGHT HAND MAN? WHAT. anyway. If theres anything i want to keep for myself in my own brain, its the akiryu aspect of this game, so i wont talk too much about that part of things (instead, itll probably manifest in fic lmfaooo). 

Sure, there’s tidbits of stuff i dont like that they gave ryuji: sexualizing ann in that one cut scene and making him touch the jails even though it hurts, and i recognize those and frown at them, but for the most part, i am blown away with how they treated him.

Basically, Ryuji has never been better. From the opening of the game with him being the first text message and the one to sling his arm around akira, to the very last cut scene where it was ryuji wordlessly leaving because he’s so confident that they would never be separated for long, this game adores Ryuji and i am so so happy to say that.

The Royal aspect of things

Yeah, i had to talk about this, but itll be a short thing i just wanted to point out. Because the last part of this game...is persona 5 royal. Which is curious. Like taking reality and giving that power to someone else so you dont have to experience suffering anymore? And even like, the final section just looked a lot like the top half of maruki’s palace?? And whats even crazier is that we had a boss fight with sophia, just like how we had a boss fight with sumire? Royal and Strikers have like, the same thesis statement. It’s kind of uncanny.It’s interesting, it’s like atlus came up with these two ideas, and then just decided they liked both of them so much that they just did it twice. I don’t mind though—actually, in terms of how the last Palace/Jails go, i probably like them both about equally. 

Though i did love the final battle in this one more than i did in royal. Splitting into teams?? Thats cool as fuck, and really innovative and i didnt see it coming. It also kicked my ass. A lot. 

Now for the last stretch: the small stuff!

The music — bomb as fuck. In my heart, Daredevil is ranked the same as Rivers. Axe to grind is also amazing, but Daredevil owns me

Akechi — i really debated whether or not to talk about him, but i figured a bullet point should be enough. Im really shocked that he wasnt in this at all. Like not even a name drop. If this is an OVA, and the point of the game is to please the fans, and akechi is arguably the fan favorite character, i was really ready for something. But there was nothing, except for the pancake hallway if that even counts as a reference. Thats it. Thats all i wanted to say about him.

The humour — FUCKING HILARIOUS im convinced that in my fifty hour playtime, five of that is dedicated to me laughing and unable to continue the game 

Akira — so much personality! His lines of dialogue are crazy sometimes (like. Whats up with him saying Ryuji has ‘nice abs’ when they were in bath? Im crazy and even i dont know what the fuck that could mean) 

Battle system — oh my god i almost forgot to talk about this. I love it! I kind of miss the turn based aspect just because i found it very comforting for some reason, but this hack and slash style of gameplay is so invigorating because i do feel like it justifies shit like the baton pass and huge attacks.  This battle system fully encompases how the Phantom Thieves are supposed to fight, you know what i mean?

Anyway, thats my thoughts on strikers. Loved it. Amazing. 9.3/10, wouldve been higher but Konoe’s Jail almost bored me to death. Also im a monster and i didnt do any requests that isn’t a fun one, teehee. As if i play persona 5 for the persona aspect of things.

[jobrookekarev]

He's Wrapped Around Her Finger

Chapter: 1/1

Words: 3500

Summary: While Jo’s sleeping Alex gets to know his newborn daughter and settles into the role of Dad.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson Karev, Helena Karev, and Meredith Grey.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Babies, Baby Care, Fluff, It’s so fluffy I'm going to die, Alex being a Dad, Alex and Jo being smitten with their daughter, Blood Mentioned.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: 3 fanfics in a week who is she! Also I had to Google what color the indicator line on diapers were because I remembered it was yellow at the start, but I didn't remember what color it would turn when it was wet so that how long it’s been since I changed a diaper.

……………………………………………………………………

“Helena Meredith Karev born on November 26th at 5:36 am at 21 inches long and weighing at 8 lb 15 oz., just 1 oz short of 9 lb,” Alex announced as he spoke to Meredith on the phone.

“1 oz. short of 9 lb wow,” Meredith said in astonishment. “How's Jo recovering?”

“She's doing good. She and the baby are asleep right now.”

Alex looks over at the bassinet that was parked next to Jo's bed. Jo slept on her side with one hand in the bassinet on their daughter's chest. Jo’s abandonment issues had come up earlier and Alex noticed she was having a hard time letting Helena out of her sight. Her hand on Helena's chest in the bassinet was how Jo maintained contact with her daughter while getting some much needed rest.

“Good, now promise me you'll never tell Jo that her daughter almost weighed 9 lb. at birth,” Meredith insisted with a little laugh.

“What? Why not?” Alex said confused as he looked over the little note card posted on  Helena's bassinet that listed her weight and other details. “Jo knows how much she weighs.”

“Yeah, Jo knows Helena weighs 8 lb. and 15 oz., but when you say she almost weighs 9 lb it isn’t the same thing. Thinking of your baby as 8 lb vs 9 lb is different. No woman likes to be remembered how big their baby was and how hard it was to push them out unless you want Helena to be an only child.”

“Okay, I promise to say she weighs 8 lb. and 14oz. whenever Jo asks,” Alex said rolling his eyes at Meredith as he watched Jo shift in her sleep so her legs were more apart.

Watching Jo be in excruciating amounts of pain as she labored was hard for him, but he pushed it aside to be there to support his wife. Jo’s pain was to the point of which she was completely out of it, just going through the motions as she pushed their daughter into the world. Alex had watched quite a few women give birth, but it was different because it was Jo. He loved her and he hated seeing her in pain knowing that he had partially caused it. 

When they had discussed having kids, Alex knew it would include a painful labor and that it would be hard on Jo and her body. Despite her training as an OB and numerous birth classes they had gone to, Jo didn't realize she was in labor until she was in active labor and they had to rush to the hospital. Alex knew that because of this experience Jo may not want to get pregnant again. If that was her decision, he would abide by it. Alex was happy because he was so absolutely content with the little girl in front of him. 

“Congratulations, Alex,” Meredith said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“You said that already,” Alex said although he didn't mind hearing it again.

“Yeah well, I'm going to say it again. Have you texted Cristina yet?”

“No, not yet and we haven't talked to too many people, apart from the video call earlier, I’ve just talked to you and my mom. It's hard to find the time. I just keep staring at her, and thank you Meredith for everything.”

“You mean for waking you up so you didn't miss your wife's labor, you're welcome.”

“Yeah that especially,” Alex said as he couldn't help but chuckle as he remembered the chaotic events of that morning. “I'll talk to you later, bye”

“Bye.” 

Alex put away his phone and settled into the uncomfortable chair next to Jo’s bed. He thought that they'd make these chairs more comfortable considering that most second parents and family members usually ended up spending the night there, but apparently not. He would have to check the budget and see if they could upgrade the chairs. Despite how he was no longer the chief of surgery, Alex learned a lot, and he still occasionally found himself reverting to taking care of the business side of the hospital. Alex shuffled around trying to get comfortable but clearly, he was not sleeping in this chair that afternoon.

Alex watched over his girl. He smiled at the thought, his girls, he had a daughter. He had a child of his own and oh how he was in love with her. Helena squealed in the bassinet throwing her arms around and Alex was up in an instant. Her tiny face squished even further as she let out a single cry. Jo stirred next to her and he felt like he was in the middle of a complicated surgery. 

Alex was quick to slip his hand under Helena as he took Jo's hand and put it next to her. He was cautious so as not to wake his sleeping wife and let her get the rest she deserved while also soothing their newborn. As soon as he put down Jo's hand and moved to cradle Helena, he stopped for a moment. Jo sighed but didn't move or wake up and he looked down at Helena who cried out again. Helena spread out her arms and continued to fuss. After a certain number of years, soothing babies became instinctual and Alex started to sway and shush. 

“Shh, Shh, it's okay, Daddy's got you.” Alex smiled down at her as she stopped fussing and opened her eyes to look up at him.

Helena studied him for a moment, staring into his soul in the way only a baby could before she decided this wasn't what she wanted, and cried out again in that little uh fussy cry. 

“Okay, okay,” Alex said, he looked back to the chair before he sat down and laid Helena on his knees. He undid the blanket intending to redo it into a proper swaddle. “Oh, I see what it is.” 

Alex saw the full diaper and the blue line that indicated she had her first wet diaper. He was weirdly proud about it especially as it meant that her kidneys were functioning well and she was hydrated. “Okay, give me a second.”

Alex cradled her close to his chest as he got up and walked over to the drawers where they kept wipes and diapers. He got the supplies and went over to the changing table in the bathroom. He propped the door open in case Jo woke up as he didn't want her to panic when they were gone and got the changing table open.

“You know, I promised your mom I’d do all of these diaper changes since she carried you for nine months, basically built you from scratch, and just now endured quite a few hours of labor with you. She wanted an epidural you know, but she didn’t realize she was in labor. You gotta remind me to tease her about that later, but not until after her stitches heal, and you were eager to get here too huh?” Alex said to Helena as she continued to fuss a little bit more as he quickly changed her and got her settled in a fresh diaper. 

Alex staring down at her as he pulled down the onesie Jo had put on her. He knew Jo like the ‘little turkey’ onesie, but it had buttons and buttons were always a struggle, even for a seasoned Ped’s doctor like he was. Alex resisted the urge to grab the other baby gown or even the one with the zippers as he finally did the last button. 

“There we go, are we happy now?” Alex asked, Helena looked around and was content and wiggled around. He wrapped her up into a proper swaddle before he picked her up again, but she looked up at him and then cried out again, still not happy. “I know, I am not-mom right now aren't I.”

Alex quietly talked to her as he settled her in his arms and walked back into the room. He sat down in the recliner and started to rock back and forth. “I'm not-Mom. I'm not what you want, I know, we don't know each other yet, although you might recognize my voice. I've read you lots of stories while you were still in your mommy's belly. I even did a little bit of singing too, but don't tell anyone around here that.” 

Alex settled into the movement of the chair as he looked down at Helena. She had stopped fussing and stared up at him again, seeming to take him in as she listened to his voice and he took that as a cue to continue. 

“I guess now would be the proper time for an introduction. I'm your dad, most people call me Alex or Dr. Karev around here at the hospital. Your mom calls me Alex too, but she drags it out a little in a way that's pretty adorable. Your Aunt Cristina is going to call me Evil Spawn and your Auntie Mare might do it too. You've met her already, although you probably didn't notice. She was on the video called when you were born, but I remember how you and your mom only had eyes for each other. Your mom and I, we don't have a big bio family, but we do have lots of friends and they're our family. They all love you so much already, especially your cousin Ellis.”

Alex rambled off to her as Helena just watched him, and he took in his daughter. He never really saw familiar features in newborns. They always just looked similar, like babies and not much else. The features really didn’t come in until they were a little older and then you could say they look like one parent or the other. Yet, as Alex looked down at Helena he saw his chin and his crooked lips in the way that she frowned as she cried. She looked like Jo too, she had Jo’s cute little cheeks and her eyes. Although she looked like an even mix of them now, he could tell that she was going to be a little tiny Jo running around their house. They joked about how they'd never be able to say no to their kid, and Alex knew that with just one look from Helena and he would melt like snow in the sun. His daughter would always be the bright spot in his day.

Helena's eyes started to droop, but she would occasionally blink them open. As if she was fighting sleep as much as Jo did. “You are already so much like your mother. She does that same thing too, you know. When we watch movies on the couch with Reese's, you haven't met him yet and he just knows you as the thing that keeps him from sitting on Mommy's lap. It might be a while before you two become friends, but you’ll like him too.” 

Alex rocked her as she fell asleep in his arms and it made him feel some weird sense of accomplishment because his kid fell asleep in his arms. He knew from experience that getting a baby back to sleep was no easy feat. He continued to hold her, not ready to put her back down again. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to put her down and he knew why Jo was hesitant to do so as well. He just sat there and rocked his daughter and held her and patted her back. 

“Anyway, Saturday nights are movie nights and your Mommy always curls up in my lap and puts her head on my chest. She always says she'll stay up and watch the whole movie,” Alex said as he leaned closer to whisper to Helena. “But she never does.”

“That's not true,” Jo whispered and Alex looked up to see her smile from where she was curled up in bed. 

She must have been watching them for a little while and he smiled back at her. A sense of relief filled his mind as she had woken up without panicking for the first time and he tried to remain calm as he smiled back at her.

“It is true, you always fall asleep just, like clockwork before the end credits.”

“I didn't fall asleep when we watched that one really bad horror movie.” 

“Yeah because it scared the crap out of you. I had to turn it off because you started crying.” 

“No, we had to turn it off because Reeses wouldn't stop barking at it.”

“Okay Princess,” Alex said, smiling as she raised her eyebrows at him and he chuckled as he got up and walked over to sit on her bed. The second he sat down Jo reached out, and he thought she was going to take Helena, but instead, she smacked the side of his arm. “Hey, I've got precious cargo here.”

“She’s fine and you can't use our daughter as a shield to protect you against my wrath,” Jo teased with a smirk of her own. She carefully sat up and Alex's smile faded as she grimaced when she moved. 

“Is your ice pack still cold? Do you want me to get you a new one or something?”

“No, I think I bled through the pad again.” 

Jo pulled back the blankets and he was relieved to see that there were no bloodstains on the sheets. Jo carefully got up out of bed and Alex put Helena down in the bassinet. 

“No, just hold her, I’ll be fine,” Jo said, waving him off. 

“Jo, let me take care of you,” Alex insisted as he watched Helena for a second to see if she’d fuss before he went over to help his wife. 

Alex put his arm around her and grabbed the IV pole as they took small and wide steps over to the bathroom. Jo let go of his waist as she stepped into the bathroom and grabbed the peri bottle and her other supplies. Alex got out a new ice pad and activated it, shaking it up before he felt it cool in his hand. He handed it to her before she waved him off again. 

“Just let me help you, Jo. I know it hurts you to whip and…”

“Alex,” Jo said, slightly annoyed as she cut him off. “You can change our daughter's diapers, not mine. I got this.”

“Are you sure, because honestly, I don't mind,” Alex argued, he wasn't sure how much she would let him take care of her, but he wanted to do this for her. If she let them. 

“Alex, today multiple people, several of whom are my coworkers, have seen me naked on a bed pushing out a baby. I need a moment of privacy,” Jo said, holding her hand out to block him from coming close.

Alex nodded and took a step back. He made a big thing about covering his eyes and turned around to go back out into the room, bumping into the doorway as Jo laughed behind him. He smiled as it didn't hurt that much and hearing her laugh after her tears earlier felt good. Alex rubbed his forehead as he went back into the room and picked up Helena again, knowing Jo would want to hold her the second she was back in bed. 

Alex looked down at her and smiled, completely smitten. From the moment Jo told him she was pregnant, he was over the moon. He had seen how parents had fallen in love with their child and he felt that love the moment Jo was pregnant. The moment Carina had placed their daughter on Jo’s chest. It was like his heart burst with love and happiness. It was so overwhelming and utterly consuming. He loved his daughter more than he could describe. 

He had taken care of babies his entire life. His mom had started to slip just after Amber turned one so the majority of her care fell to him. He practically raised Amber and Aaron until they were all put in foster care. After Amber got sick and had to go to the hospital and the state finally stepped in. After that, he took care of his mom throughout high school and college up until the day he got the job and flew out to the then Seattle Grace Hospital. Even then he sent money and hired someone to check on her. When it came to his career, he wanted to go into plastics, but somehow he ended up in Peds and he was good there. 

He took care of thousands of babies over the years and in caring for them he loved them. Alex watched their parents love them more than anything in the world, and he got a bit of that love when it came to Meredith’s kids. They were his nieces and nephew and he loved them like they were his own because they were family, but he still didn't experience the kind of love a parent had for their child, until the moment his child was there. It was all he could think about. She was all-consuming in a way that he could just stare at her for hours.

It wasn't until he really succeeded at being a Peds doctor that he knew he could be a dad. Even though it still terrified him. Every injured kid that walked through the door he could see being his kid. He went home to Jo and put his hands on her belly and he worried. Alex worried about all the possible complications, diseases, and injuries that their kids could get. Even now staring down at her, he knew she was perfect. Her APGAR score was a 10, she had good reflexes, and she was eating and wetting her diapers, and she was perfect, but he still worried. He was so lost in thought that he even noticed Jo had come up behind him until she pressed up against him and they stared down at their daughter. 

“She's perfect, Alex,” Jo whispered to him, kissing his cheek. She had always been able to since his worries.

“Yeah, she is,” Alex said as he put his arm around her as they both stared at Helena completely in awe of their daughter.

Jo moved to get back in bed and Alex helped her up, despite how she protested. After she was settled, Alex placed Helena in her arms before Jo could even ask.

“Thank you,” Jo whispered, cradling her close. 

They both continued to stare down at her and Alex sat back down in the chair and scooted closer to their bedside. Helena’s little eyes fluttered open, but she didn't cry as she stared up at Jo who smiled down at her. Completely smitten as well. 

“Yeah, that’s Mommy isn’t it,” Alex said reaching out and putting his hand on Jo’s knee. Jo didn't even glance up at him, she just smiled down at Helena. 

In the past nine months, he had watched Jo go through so many emotions, as he watched her become a mother. Everything she did was to care for their daughter. He knew that Jo was terrified about becoming a mom when they first started talking about kids years ago. She knew the heartache of a bad childhood because she lived it. She was terrified of her genes and she wanted a career first so he waited patiently for her to be ready. 

Watching her with their daughter in just the past few hours Alex thought she was the best mom in the world, although he might be a little biased. Jo was so good with her, the second Helena fussed or cried, Jo would pick her up. She was so attentive to their daughter and so loving, Alex couldn't help but just watch them together. 

“Daddy is staring at us,” Jo giggled as she looked up and caught him.

 Alex smiled completely unashamed. “What can I say, I'm awestruck by the two beautiful girls in front of me, my girls.”

“Your girls,” Jo smiled before she realized something and giggled. “Alex Karev has a daughter.”

“Oh God,” Alex said, putting a hand over his face as he realized the karmic payback that was coming to him. 

“With your luck, she’ll probably be crazy for whatever gender she ends up liking,” Jo laughed putting her hand on his arm as the color drained from his face.

“No, no, she is a baby. We're not talking about this,” Alex said, shaking his head.

“She's not going to be a baby forever,” Jo said as she tilted her head and smiled at him, clearly enjoying torturing him.

“No, but she is a baby right now, a newborn and she's going to stay that way,” Alex said looking down at Helena and rubbing her little cheek.

Jo giggled again as she leaned forward and reached her hand out to wrap around his neck and pull in for a kiss. Alex let himself linger on Jo's lips as she smiled against his lips. Helena squealed and they parted with a laugh as they looked down at their daughter who stared up at Jo. Jo traced her finger down Helena’s cheek as she rocked her and Alex smiled at his girls. Yeah, this was perfect.

……………………………………………………………………

AN: On a scale of 1 to 10 how much did this turn you into a pile of mush?

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #90: Nero Claudius (Bride)

I don’t normally redo builds unless I really mess things up (sorry again Liz) because there’s still like 200 servants and counting left to go, but Nero was really insistent that she get another build. This time we’re doing Nero Bride, who’s like Nero, but in a bridal gown.

If you don’t want to read through the whole spiel to find out what’s different, I’ll break it down right now: 

There’s fewer charming spells since you’ve found the person you want to spend your life with, but in exchange you get more healing and buff spells to help them out.

We also take a quick dip into Cleric for even more party helping magic and features, but you’ll still be able to get ninth level spells if you want to make the Golden Theater.

Check out Nero’s build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Root (Honorific)

Race and Background

We’ve already covered Nero, but for the sake of not making you go back to a different build we’ll repeat ourself. You’re a Human Noble, giving you History and Persuasion proficiency. Since this is a variant of the normal Nero we’ll also make you a Variant Human, getting +1 Charisma and Wisdom along with Religion proficiency. You can’t always count on someone being their to officiate your wedding, so you have to be able to do it yourself. You also pick up the Lucky feat, which lets you roll an extra d20 to an attack, ability check, or saving throw and use either roll. You can also use this when an enemy attacks you as well, but all uses are limited to three times per long rest. Honestly it’s kind of weird regular Nero didn’t have this, but there’s no sight like hindsight.

Ability Scores

Your highest score should be Charisma like always; you’re the darling rose of Rome, and you also have mild reality-warping abilities based on how you think the world works. Second highest is Dexterity- you need to be able to pull off fancy swordplay and survive fights in a dress. Third is Wisdom- a good marriage is based in honesty, trust, and open communication, and that’s all wisdom. Also we need it for multiclassing. After that is Constitution, because we’re not dumping that. Your Intelligence isn’t super high, you’re still Nero, but we’re dumping Strength. Lifting weights is for other people.

Class Levels

1. Bard 1: Starting off as a bard nets you proficiency in Dexterity and Charisma saves, as well as three skills of your choice. Grab Performance and Acrobatics for your stage presence, and Animal Handling for your riding skill. You also gain Bardic Inspiration, a number of d6 per long rest equal to your charisma modifier that you can hand out as a bonus action to nearby creatures. They can then add this die to one attack, save, or check that they make within the next 10 minutes.

You also get to cast Spells using your Charisma as a casting ability. Pick up Friends, Animal Friendship, and Charm Person for your prerequisite charm spells, Cure Wounds to heal yourself or your significant other, Prestidigitation for minor magical effects, and Unseen Servant so you don’t have to lug your own bags around.

2. Bard 2: Second level bards are a Jack of All Trades; even if you’re not good at something, you think you are, and that’s enough reason to add half your proficiency to checks that don’t already use it. You also learn a Song of Rest, adding 1d6 to healing done on short rests. That’s a little less in character, but it’s free healing, don’t knock it. Also thanks to Tasha’s you get Magical Inspiration, allowing your inspiration to go just a bit further. Creatures can now use your inspiration die on healing spells or damage dealing spells, adding that roll to one affected creature.

Also, you’re so inspiring you evoke Heroism in one creature, making them immune to being frightened and giving them temporary hp each turn for up to a minute.

3. Bard 3: Third level bards pick a college, and of course you’re a bard of whis- just kidding, you’re still a Swords bard. This nets you the Dueling fighting style, as well as the ability to wield a scimitar. You also get Blade Flourishes, allowing you to spend bardic inspiration dice to deal extra damage an gain extra effects. A Defensive Flourish adds the roll to your AC until your next turn. A Slashing Flourish deals the extra damage to another nearby creature as well, and the Mobile Flourish pushes the creature away, and you can react to follow them. Everything you do is beauty, and now you can literally weaponize that beauty too.

As a bard you also get your first round of Expertise, which doubles your proficiency in two skills. Pick Performance and Acrobatics to perfect your public presence. 

To go even further, you learn how to Enhance Ability, giving yourself or a special someone proficiency in one kind of ability checks for up to an hour. Also, if you choose Constitution checks they gain 2d6 temporary hp, Strength checks double their carrying capacity, and Cat’s Grace prevents falling damage from less than 20′.

4. Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Dexterity, increasing your sword skills and armor class. You also pick up the spells Mending and Lesser Restoration to help patch up the party, as well as your fancy outfit.

5. Bard 5: Our last level of bard before we dip enhances your Bardic Inspiration to d8s, and you become a Font of Inspiration, letting you regain inspiration on short rests instead of long ones. 

This is also the first level you can use third level spells, and Intellect Fortress is a pretty smart pick. It gives you or a loved one resistance to psychic damage, plus advantage on intelligence, wisdom, and charisma saves. 

6. Cleric 1: If we want a marriage, you might have to do it yourself. There’s no class that can do that better than a cleric. First level clerics can cast and prepare Spells with Wisdom. You also pick a divine domain; since the Unity domain has been deprecated, you’re now a Peace cleric. At first level you become an Implement of Peace, giving you proficiency in Insight, because it’s the only option you don’t already have.

You can also make an Emboldening Bond between a number of creatures equal to your proficiency bonus that are within 30′ of each other as an action. For up to 10 minutes afterwards, those creatures can add 1d4 to an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw once per turn if there’s at least one other bonded creature within 30′ of it. You can use this a number of times per long rest equal to your proficiency bonus. I guess Nero is just more progressive about polyamory than Artemis is, at least until I finish the updates.

For your spells, pick up Guidance and Resistance to add a d4 to a creature’s next check or save, respectively. Thaumaturgy has a lot of uses, but it also makes you three times louder. Not better, just louder. 

You get another Heroism and Sanctuary for free, but I’d also check out Bless for bonuses on attack rolls and saving throws, Ceremony for the wedding abilities, and Command for another charming spell. I said we’d get less, not none.

7. Cleric 2: Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in one of two ways. Turn Undead forces undead near you to make a wisdom save (8 + your wisdom modifier + proficiency) or be forced to run away from you until they can’t or they take damage. However, you can also make a Balm of Peace, using your action to move without provoking opportunity attacks, and moving within 5′ of another creature allows you to heal them for 2d6+ your wisdom modifier once per channel. You only have one healing skill so going on a spree like this is odd, but it’s not the worst way to break character.

8. Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells. Aid lets you add extra HP to some creatures’ maximums, and Warding Bond lets you take half the damage for a creature for up to an hour. Sometimes love requires sacrifice. 

For spells outside your domain, Spiritual Weapon gives you a cool glowing sword you can swing around without getting into danger, and Calm Emotions makes you a soothing source of relief, either ending a charming or frightening effect on a creature or making a hostile creature indifferent towards you for up to the duration. Love makes us all better people. Or generally less murderous people, at least.

9. Bard 6: Back in bard now, you get Countercharm, letting you spend an action to give advantage to a creature that’s being charmed or frightened. Why you wouldn’t just use calm emotions, I don’t know. Regardless, you also get an Extra Attack, letting you attack twice with the attack action.

Your sword might not be magical yet, but it can look magical thanks to Daylight. This spell creates a 60′ sphere of light that can be applied to an object you’re holding, like a sword, and it also destroys darkness made by spells of third level or lower.

10. Bard 7: Seventh level bards get fourth level spells, like Charm Monster. Sometimes you bring Manticores back to the house like they’re lost puppies, that’s just an adorable quirk of yours.

11. Bard 8: Use your next ASI to enhance your Charisma for more inspiration and stronger spells. You also pick up the spell Locate Creature. Look, putting a tracking device in your loved one isn’t creepy, it’s common sense. Don’t judge her.

12. Bard 9: Your Song of Rest improves to use d8 as well, and you can use fifth level spells like Greater Restoration, which can end effects like charms, petrification, curses, ability score reductions, and hp reductions. 

13. Bard 10: The tenth level of bard increases your Bardic Inspiration to d10s, and you gain Expertise in two more skills. By this point you’re almost definitely married, so boost your Insight and Persuasion to make sure it’s a happy marriage.

You also learn Magical Secrets for the first time, two spells from any spell list. Pick up Haste to double a creature’s speed, add 2 to its AC, give it advantage on dexterity saves, and give it another action on each of its turns. After the spell ends it can’t move or take actions for a turn, but that’s a small price to pay. You also pick up Holy Weapon to turn your sword into an appropriately shiny magic weapon. For up to an hour, your weapon emits bright light, and deals extra radiant damage. You can also spend a bonus action to end the spell early and detonate the weapon, dealing even more radiant damage to creatures of your choice and possibly blinding them if they fail a constitution save.

Also grab Message. Communication is the heart of a good relationship, and now you can do it at long range.

14. Bard 11: Eleventh level bards get sixth level spells. Heroes’ Feast will help you cater your wedding without breaking the bank.

15. Bard 12: Use this ASI for more dexterity for higher damage and AC.

16. Bard 13: Thirteenth level bards see their Song of Rest grow to a d10, and they can use seventh level spells. Mirage Arcane lets you alter the terrain in a 1 mile square, and add structures where none are present, like, say, a golden theater. The illusion includes tactile elements, so it’s hardly even an illusion at this point. The big requirement is that you can’t radically change the terrain’s shape, so no flattening out part of a mountain to lay your theater on.

17. Bard 14: Fourteenth level swords bards can use a Master’s Flourish, replacing their inspiration die with a d6 to save on uses. There’s now no drawback to flourishes, so use them as much as you’d like!

You also get another round of Magical Secrets. Since this version of Nero could only exist in a dream, the Dream spell is a logical fit, letting you enter another creature’s dreams to either send them a message or give them a nightmare, dealing psychic damage and ruining their sleep. You also get Steel Wind Strike, to let you dramatically teleport around the battleground before everything explodes into blood behind you.

18. Bard 15: At fifteenth level your Bardic Inspiration maxes out at d12, and you learn eighth level spells. Glibness makes you even more charming than you already are, making your minimum roll for a charisma check always 15, and it’s impossible to magically telling if you’re lying. You know that whole thing about openness and honesty I said earlier? Maybe that’s not true. The real secret to marital bliss is lying well.

19. Bard 16: Use your final ASI to maximize your Charisma for the strongest spells and the most Inspiration you could possibly hand out.

20. Bard 17: Our capstone level gives you another boost to your Song of Rest; now it also uses a d12. You also get a ninth level spell- Foresight. This gives you or a willing creature advantage on all attacks, checks, and saving throws, immunity to being surprised, and attacking creatures have disadvantage for the duration, 8 hours with no concentration. 

Pros

You have a flair for the dramatic, and if your DM allows for creativity, you’ll be doing very well at the table. Be the star you were always born to be!

You’re very charming. With a maxed out charisma, Glibness, and plenty of spells to help out when your natural skill fails you, you’ll get your way most of the time.

You’re also very supportive of the rest of the party. With healing along with buffs like enhance ability, haste, foresight, and bless, your backup will be almost as amazing as you are.

Cons

Most buffs and charming spells require concentration, and with your constitution you probably won’t make your save that often without help. It also means you have to choose between effects, whether you should keep a creature under control or help the rest of the party with a buff can be a difficult decision.

Your Wisdom also isn’t amazing, which means your non-healing effects from Cleric aren’t that powerful compared to your bard features.

All your damaging spells are either impractical for fighting or tied to your melee attacks, so your range is looking a little short. For all its benefits, your Imperial Privilege won’t let you fly after those harpies.