#gets home from work and immediately spends 8 hours banging out this bad boy

[slashhinginghasher]

Icy - Jesse Cromeans x OFC

Marena accompanies Jesse on a business trip to New York. Jesse bitches about the weather and smut ensues.

Note: Marena is my OC. This is not a reader insert fic

She was fucking with him.

She had to be fucking with him, because the thermometer on the wall read 20°F and she was hanging out on the balcony, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were icicles hanging from the eaves. Jesse had the heat in the luxury hotel room cranked up to 75°, was wearing a cashmere sweater and two pairs of socks, and Marena was outside in short sleeves casually sipping a drink like she was on a tropical beach. Actually, Jesse had never seen her look as content on a tropical beach as she did standing there in the frigid winter evening.

As much as Jesse loved New York - or at least the idea of New York - the winters there were goddamn unpleasant. He was a southern boy through and through; any temperature below 50° was unnatural. Next time, his clients could come to him, and to hell with “convenience” or “professional courtesy”. It was difficult to maintain a proper air of menace when one was shivering and wrapped in approximately ten different layers. Simply put, the cold pissed him off, and watching Marena lounge in it like a cat in a sunbeam pissed him off more. For the sake of his ego, he had to believe she was actually freezing her tiny tits off and just pretending to enjoy herself to piss him off.

Speaking of the blue-eyed devil...

Marena threw open the balcony door, letting a gust of freezing air into Jesse’s barely-tolerable haven. She paused in the doorway, blinked hard and coughed once as the warmth swept over her, then tossed the door shut carelessly behind her as she made her way to the kitchen. The door stopped just short of fully closed, winter chill creeping in through the one-inch gap. Jesse was irritated, he really was, but Marena rarely showed much skin, even in the middle of a Floridian summer, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to appreciate what he was presented with.

The sleeve of her shirt slipped off one shoulder as she refilled her glass, the upper edges of the scars on her back and torso peeking out from the low neckline. Her shorts hugged her tight little ass in a way that made Jesse’s hands jealous. As he watched her swallow a mouthful of dark red liquid, Jesse felt his own mouth going dry.

“What.”

Marena was watching him watch her, the flat tone of her voice bringing the word closer to a statement then a question. Jesse lifted his eyes from his perusal of her bare legs, letting all the heat and aggravation show plainly on his face.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the view, but are you fucking kidding me?” he signed.

Marena tilted her head and furrowed her brow slightly.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

She glanced down at her outfit.

“Clothes. Probably.”

“It’s subarctic out there, who the hell do you think you’re trying to impress?”

“Subarctic, my ass,” Marena scoffed quietly, returning to the lounge area and planting said ass on the coffee table in front of Jesse. This close, he could smell the fruitiness of her drink and the crisp, cold air that clung to her hair and skin.

"There is frost on the windows," Jesse pointed out. "The railing is fucking iced over. Arctic."

“I grew up subarctic,” Marena retorted. “This is not arctic.” She took another healthy swig of her drink. Cherry juice, Jesse thought, based on the color.

“Details, details. Point is, it’s freezing, and you’re dressed like a PIGGY.”

Marena’s gaze snapped sharply to Jesse’s, the slight clenching of her jaw the only sign of a shift in her mood. Jesse and Marena often argued over the parameters that designated a person as “deserving to die”, each having very different ideas on the subject. They’d had a fairly heated debate about it over the body of a socialite just before leaving for New York. Like most of their “discussions” on the topic, it had ended with blood shed on both sides, Jesse inside her, and absolutely nothing resolved. 

Secretly, Jesse adored their fights. So few people ever stood up to him (Preston didn’t count - he was annoying in a bad way and nowhere near as sexy) and the fact that Marena was half his size and could still hold her own made things even more entertaining. He was uncertain if Marena enjoyed butting heads half as much as he did. Granted, it was usually impossible to tell if Marena enjoyed anything; her default mode was “seconds away from violence” and her poker face rivaled Asa’s.

“All I’m saying,” Jesse continued with a smirk, “is this is HIGHLY out of character. One might think you were trying to SEDUCE me.” He traced a finger down from the hollow of her throat, barely clearing her collarbone before she swatted his hand away. He moved to touch her again, but was interrupted by a gust of freezing wind blowing a small flurry of snow through the gap in the door. Jesse shot to his feet with a glare that had, in other circumstances, reduced grown men to tears. He slammed the door shut hard enough to make the glass shudder, then threw himself back down on the sofa with a huff. Marena studied the bottom of her now-empty glass, unimpressed with Jesse’s flare of temper.

“Are all Americans such pussies about weather, or is it just you?”

Jesse snarled. Both hands shot out, grabbing the girl by the shirt and yanking her into his lap. He crushed his lips to hers, sweeping his tongue into her mouth before she could even think of biting him. She tasted like cherries, and the fact that she was kissing him back so readily made him think there may have been more than fruit juice in her drink. Marena didn’t fuck sober, at least not without a fight.

Breaking the kiss, he threw her down on the sofa cushions, pushed her shirt up over her breasts, and immediately got to work biting and licking a trail down the scar over her heart. Marena’s hands were moving somewhere around his belt, but he was so consumed in the taste of her skin that he paid them no mind.

At least until she wrapped her ice cold fingers around his cock.

Jesse jerked back like he’d been electrocuted, and Marena laughed. 

Her laugh was as sharp as the rest of her, and so rarely given that Jesse could probably count the number of times he’d heard it on one hand. Now, like each of the other times, the sound awakened a fluttering storm in his stomach. And it wasn’t just arousal, either; they were full-on teenage-girl-writing-in-her-diary butterflies. Marena had a knack for getting under his skin like no one else he’d met, both figuratively and literally. He still had the scars from their first meeting to prove it. And judging by the subtle gleam in her eyes, she knew damn well what kind of effect she had on him.

He was glaring at her now, and she was still laughing, her nose scrunched up and her hair spread around her like a black halo, and the only way he could think to shut her up was to kiss her again and shove his hand down her shorts.

She stiffened and bit down on his lip when he pressed a finger to her clit. He drew a slow, rough circle around the little nub, then dipped lower and traced her entrance with a calloused fingertip. Marena drew in a short, shuddering breath and shifted her hips almost imperceptibly closer to his hand. That was all the invitation he needed to keep going. He rubbed a little harder, moved a little faster, adding a second finger to his ministrations when he felt her slickness growing. He pressed his mouth to hers until their teeth clicked together, swallowing her silent gasp as he slid his fingers into her heat.

He pumped his hand shallowly a few times before pulling out completely, curling his fingers as he withdrew. Marena fixed him with a look bordering on open hatred as he slid those two fingers into his mouth and slooooowly sucked them clean. It was as close to begging as he could get her without a lot of work - work he had no patience for at this particular moment - and he’d take what he could get.

Jesse ripped her shorts off and tossed them behind him, then pushed his own slacks just far enough down his hips for his hardened cock to spring free. He lined himself up with her entrance, and, too eager to tease, thrust his entire length inside with a single fluid movement. Marena’s back arched, head thrown back and fingers digging into the armrest hard enough for her nails to leave marks in the fabric. Jesse held still for a moment, savoring the feeling of her tight heat around him, before grabbing her hips and beginning to thrust in earnest.

The room was nearly silent except for the sounds of skin against skin and harsh, shuddering breathing. It was fast and rough, fucking stripped down to its bare essentials. Marena’s gaze was fixed somewhere on the ceiling behind Jesse’s head, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as her inner walls tightened, teeth sinking into the meat of her palm until it bled. Pace faltering, Jesse pulled Marena’s hand away from her mouth and raised it to his own lips, latching onto the wound and sucking hard. The familiar coppery taste burst across his tongue, triggering his own orgasm as he fucked her through her climax.

Jesse slumped forward in a boneless haze, pressing a trail of kisses up Marena’s throat and over her jaw, leaving a final nip just below her ear. Marena ran a shaking hand through her hair and tried to wiggle her way out from under him. Not happening. Jesse tucked himself away with one hand, the other holding Marena’s wrist to keep her from escaping. He sprawled across the couch and pulled her to him, her back against his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist. Marena made an annoyed little growl deep in her throat, but offered no other resistance to his post-sex cuddliness.

Jesse smiled against her hair. For the first time since arriving in New York, he felt warm.

[juniorgman187]

Luck of the Universe (Spencer Reid Screenplay)

Season 9 Reid deserves more recognition. Definitely one of my fav looks/seasons. So I wrote about it :) 

Summary: Years after Spencer saves Maggie’s life, they reunite unexpectedly. Maggie thinks it’s fate; Spencer does not. She challenges him and says they’ll meet again, even without intending to. They do meet again, but not under favorable circumstances. Maggie’s life is in danger and Spencer must save her . . . again. 

Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst, Fluff, Screenplay Content Warning: Profanity, pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, violence, death Word Count: 10.5k

DISCLAIMER: This was originally a screenplay but was adapted to have a more cohesive appearance on Tumblr. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Spencer Reid sits outside a cafe to enjoy his beachside view from a coffee shop. Foreign to California’s sun, Spencer has aloe and sunscreen packed with him. He even wears sunglasses wherever he goes. While he patiently waits for the arrival of his coffee, he reads The Narrative of John Smith. The exact copy that Maeve gave him over a year ago. 

Serving his coffee is Maggie. This event will single handedly change both of their lives forever. 

MAGGIE: Let me know if I can get you anything else. 

As she sets down the cup, Reid thanks her, and out of politeness, he tilts his head forward ever so slightly so that his glasses will shift to the bridge of his nose. This way she can see his eyes. And when she does see his eyes, they are so familiar to her, but she can’t place where she remembers them from. Spencer notices her looking at him.

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, you just looked really familiar. 

SPENCER: Actually we have met before. I’m the agent that, um, saved you.   

Maggie stands there for a moment in complete disbelief. 

MAGGIE: Oh my God, yes! No, I totally remember you now. Wow. Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner I’m -

SPENCER: Maggie. 

Maggie peers down at her name tag and gives him a funny look.

SPENCER: No, I genuinely do remember you, and I didn’t just read your name tag. Um I have what’s called an eidetic memory. I’m able to recall things with high precision, even if it was a brief period of time on one occasion. 

MAGGIE: Really? That’s incredible. I wish I could say the same. All I could remember after being resuscitated was your eyes. I meant to thank you, by the way, for saving me, but at the time I was too in shock. I went to the police department the next day trying to find you, but you weren’t there. And as it turns out, it’s not so easy searching for a pair of hazel eyes. 

Spencer smiles. 

SPENCER: I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m a Supervisory Special Agent with the Behavior Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.

Hearing his name completely changes her. She says it to herself in disbelief. For years she’s wondered who he was, and now she knows.

MAGGIE: So what brings you back to California? 

SPENCER: We finished a case here earlier. I’m just killing time until I go back by reading.

MAGGIE: May I?

Maggie extends her hand to ask for the book politely. Spencer hands it to Maggie. She recognizes it almost immediately. 

MAGGIE: Oh, I love Arthur Conan Doyle. This is just one of those novels I wish I could read again for the first time. 

Spencer doesn’t respond, he’s just so enamored by the way she thinks and speaks. She misinterprets his silence as a sign that he’d rather not keep talking. 

MAGGIE: I should probably let you get back to reading. I wouldn’t want to keep you from the opinionated Everyman John Smith. I hope you have a safe travel home.

Maggie begins to get up from her chair.

SPENCER: Wait um, I don’t normally ask this, but I still have a few hours until my flight and I’d really love to keep talking with you so do you think maybe we could go somewhere or -

MAGGIE: I would love to, but I’m working until the closing shift tonight. 

SPENCER: Oh okay. 

Maggie is conflicted. Against her better judgement, she agrees. 

MAGGIE: You know what? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. 

Excitement rises in Spencer. When Maggie goes into the coffee shop, he tries to contain himself. He fixes his hair and straightens out his cardigan and tie. Maggie comes back out. 

MAGGIE: Ever been to the pier?

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer are looking out onto the ocean from the pier. It’s one of the rare times that they aren’t being swallowed by a huge crowd. It’s just them, a few other people, and the sunset. An ocean breeze blows through, making Maggie shiver and bump into Spencer. 

MAGGIE: My bad. Sorry. 

SPENCER: Do you want my - 

MAGGIE: No, no I’m fine. 

Spencer ignores her statement and drapes his cardigan around her. Though she would never admit it, it sort of smells like him - and it’s the most comforting smell in the world. 

MAGGIE: It’s beautiful isn’t it?

Maggie says while looking out to the sunset.

SPENCER: Yeah, it is. 

He says while looking at her. 

After a couple seconds, she notices him staring, looks at him, smiles, and nudges him. 

MAGGIE: It’s getting late. We should head back. 

Spencer follows close behind as Maggie leads the way. 

MAGGIE: I wish we could’ve hung out longer, but I don’t want to leave Tony running the shop alone for too long and I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight. 

SPENCER: For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the little time we did spend together. 

MAGGIE: I did, too. 

SPENCER: So maybe, when I’m back here, we could make plans. 

MAGGIE: I’ll look forward to your return then. 

Maggie and Spencer walk a little longer in a comfortable silence, until finally they’re back at the coffee shop. 

MAGGIE: Do you have a pen?

Spencer hesitates for a moment, but ultimately, has to place his hand on Maggie’s hip to retrieve the pen inside the pocket. This gesture startles her and causes her to remember that she was wearing his cardigan. 

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, I forgot that I was wearing this.

SPENCER: No keep it. It looks better on you anyway. Consider it an early birthday gift. September 8 right?

MAGGIE: How did you- Oh right. Eidetic memory. 

Spencer hands her the pen and Maggie reaches for a napkin from the table and writes her number on it.

MAGGIE: So if you’re ever insanely bored at 3 a.m. or you’re not busy saving someone’s life, call me. 

Spencer takes the napkin. 

SPENCER: Will do.

He tries to mask how excited he really is. 

Maggie heads back inside, but stops herself at the door. She turns back to Spencer.

MAGGIE: (genuinely asking) Do you know how often people reconnect without intending to after years of not seeing each other?

SPENCER: Not very often I suppose. 

MAGGIE: This could very well just be a huge coincidence, but it really feels like some luck of the universe that I’m talking to you right now. And I think we’ll be seeing each other soon again. 

Spencer’s intrigued. As a doctor, he’s pragmatic. Romantic notions such as destiny and luck - he wasn’t a believer of. Even God, he was skeptical of. But he wanted to see Maggie again, even if that meant he had to agree that it was fate after all.

SPENCER: And if we don’t?

Maggie pauses to answer his question. 

MAGGIE: Then we will eventually. 

Before Maggie opens the door, she notices Spencer pulling money out of his pocket to pay for his coffee. She stops him.

MAGGIE: It’s on the house. 

She says with a small smile that’s returned with a grin that creeps upon Spencer’s face. When she fully enters the cafe, Spencer is left alone with his thoughts. 

. . .

It’s the next day. The BAU is seated at the round table. Penelope is presenting the case. Reid’s momentarily distracted. He plays with the napkin in his book. It’s the napkin with Maggie’s number on it. His fixation lasts for so long that he misses the presentation entirely. It’s only when JJ asks him a question directly does he tune in and snap out of his trance. 

REID: What was the question?

Reid shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to hide his confusion by opening up the case file. 

ROSSI: You’ve been awfully quiet this morning. A little too quiet. Care to share?

REID: Nothing. Just thinking. 

He’s lying and they all know it. The team exchanges suspicious glances.

REID: Sorry, Garcia, could you repeat it one more time?

GARCIA: Why of course! Anything for you, Boy Wonder. A week ago, Brynn Dryer disappeared from her home late at night. 48 hours after she was reported missing, a couple jogging past a lake found her body. In the M.E’s report, there was a terrifyingly large amount of evidence that she was brutally beaten and clubbed. The official C.O.D was blunt force trauma to the head and the lake was nothing more than a disposal site. Less than a day later, Eliza O’ Hara went missing after someone invaded her home. Yesterday local P.D found her in the middle of a  field by the highway. Same M.O. The police department is anticipating that when you land, another girl will go missing. 

Spencer notices something. 

REID: Wait, can you put their pictures side by side?

Garcia does so. Spencer makes a connection. 

JJ: What is it, Spence?

REID: The similarities between the two victims are uncanny. Notice the eye color, skin tone, hair style, even down to the freckles they have.  

BLAKE: Alright so he’s got an aggression toward brown eyed, tan brunettes with bangs and freckles. 

ROSSI: And I have an aggression toward telemarketers but you don’t see me clubbing them to death. 

HOTCH: The cooling off period between kills is getting shorter. He’s escalating and we’re going to put a stop to this before he hits his stride. Garcia, you’re coming with us. Wheels up in 30.

The team is leaving the round table. 

. . .

The team is on the flight. 

HOTCH: JJ, as soon as we land, I need you setting up a press conference to let the women in the area know to be vigilant. After that, we’ll interview the family’s of Eliza and Brynn. I need Blake and Reid working on the geographical profile. Dave, you and Morgan will take a closer look at the bodies and see if you can’t gather more information. And Garcia, 

GARCIA: Yes, sir?

HOTCH: Find as many more connections between these women as you can, and contact any other women who fit the victimology. 

GARCIA: Yes, sir. 

ROSSI: Apparently, it'll be 101 degrees when we land. Remind me again why people live in California?

Reid perks up. He didn’t even know he was going back to California. But now that he does, he’s even more on edge. 

. . .

Reid works on the geographical profile, while Blake assists from her chair. There’s something off about Reid, and she’s about to find out what. 

BLAKE: Hey, you alright, Reid? You seem like you’re a million miles away. 

Reid stops working on the map. He turns around to face Blake. 

REID: I met this girl yesterday. She was actually a former victim I resuscitated. And before I left, she said she had a feeling we would see each other again soon.

Spencer pauses and purses his lips. 

SPENCER: She looks just like the other victims.

BLAKE: So you’re worried that when you see her again, it’ll be because of this case. 

REID: Do . . . do you think I could call her? To let her know. 

BLAKE: I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to break the rules if I were you, but I can’t, in good conscience, advise you to let her know what’s happening. By doing so, you’re giving her an advantage other people don’t have. If she tunes into JJ’s press conference, I’m sure she’ll be safe. 

REID: I thought Maeve was gonna be safe too. Look how that turned out.  

Blake is at a loss for words. Here she is, the linguist, and yet she can’t find the right words to tell Reid to comfort him. 

. . .

JJ sits beside Garcia as Garcia sets up her system. 

JJ: Spence has been acting really weird today. 

GARCIA: So it’s not just me! I knew something must’ve been wrong because earlier on the flight, I asked if he wanted to play online chess with me and he said no. Can you believe that? I know he’s all anti-tech and everything, but he’s never passed up a game of chess. So that’s why I’ve already done some digging.

JJ gives Garcia the face of “You shouldn’t have done that.” 

GARCIA: Okay, but before you say I shouldn’t have, you should see this. 

Garcia pulls up a small window on her computer to show to JJ. JJ is shocked. 

JJ: A three hour call with his mom last night? Could’ve just been his regular check in.

GARCIA: See that’s what I thought, too, but look. 

Garcia scrolls further up the call list. 

JJ: He hasn’t called his mom in months. 

GARCIA: We all know Reid tells everything to his mom. Something must’ve happened yesterday. 

Unbeknownst to Garcia and JJ, Reid walks in. 

REID: Hey, guys - what’re you looking at?

It’s too late now. Reid’s already seen it.

REID: You’re keeping tabs on me now? How long have you been monitoring me? Huh?

Anger possesses Reid. 

GARCIA: Just since this morning. I only looked at your call history briefly. 

REID: Unbelievable. 

JJ: We were just worried about you. We all are. There’s obviously something going on. 

REID: So then ask me about it. Ever thought of that? 

JJ: We’re sorry. 

REID: Yeah no, I’m fine, thanks for asking. 

Reid storms off from JJ and Garcia. 

. . .

Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan all meet Garcia, JJ, and Blake before delivering the profile. Spencer’s missing.

MORGAN: Where’s Pretty boy?

BLAKE: I thought he was going to talk to Jennifer and Garcia.

GARCIA: He did, but something happened . . . he was upset and left. I thought maybe he went back to working on the geo-profile.

HOTCH: Garcia, when did you last speak to him? 

GARCIA: Oh, I don’t know, sir, um, maybe fifteen minutes ago?

HOTCH: Morgan, go find Reid. We’ll deliver the profile. 

MORGAN: Where should I be looking?

BLAKE: He went to a coffee shop yesterday. I’m not sure which one, but it’s a start.

. . .

Reid is frantically entering the coffee shop. He scans the room for Maggie but doesn’t see her. 

TONY: Hey, what can I get for you?

SPENCER: Is Maggie here?

TONY: Who’s asking?

SPENCER: (flashing his badge) I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI. Let me ask you again, where’s Maggie?

TONY: Didn’t show up today. 

SPENCER: Did she call in sick?

TONY: Nope.

SPENCER: When was the last time you saw her?

TONY: Last night when we were working the closing shift.  

SPENCER: Do you know how she got home?

TONY: She walked. I tried to offer her a ride, but she said she likes to walk. Something about clearing the mind. 

SPENCER: Did she walk alone?

TONY: Mhm. 

Spencer’s mind swirls. He is living his worst nightmare all over again. When he turns around and sees Derek pulling up. Reid rushes out of the coffee shop and hops into the passenger seat immediately. Derek doesn’t even question it. 

REID: Drive. I need Garcia on the phone. 

Derek dials her.

GARCIA: Did you find Rei-

REID: (cutting her off) Garcia, I need you to look up Magnolia Tate. Get me her address. 

MORGAN: What is it, Reid?

REID: She didn’t show up to work today. Her coworker said the last time he saw her was when she was walking home. She fits the victimology. Garcia, the address? 

GARCIA: 178 Citrus Boulevard. Be safe. 

REID: Thank you, Garcia. 

GARCIA: Of course. And, Reid?

REID: Yeah?

GARCIA: I’m really super-duper sorry about earlier. 

REID: It’s fine. I know you guys were just looking out for me. 

Reid can sense Garcia smiling through the phone so he promptly hangs up knowing their business is resolved. 

MORGAN: Reid, there is a good chance this could just be a coincidence. 

REID: I’m telling you - nothing with this girl is just a coincidence.

MORGAN: Well, have you called her yet?

REID: No.

MORGAN: Then call her now, Reid. 

REID: I can’t. 

MORGAN: Yes, you can. 

REID: I can’t. 

MORGAN: Why not?

REID: I’m scared that if I call her, I won’t be able to stop, and I’ll want to keep talking to her, but I can’t do that. Not when I know what it’s like loving something death can touch.

MORGAN: Is this about Maeve?

REID: It’s always about Maeve! Morgan, I watched her die in front of me. And just knowing that right now I could be in the same position -

MORGAN: Listen, I know how guilty you feel about Maeve. Man, I feel guilty about her, too, but you gotta understand that if this is connected to our case, you’re gonna save her. Trust me on this. 

REID: Yeah, okay. 

MORGAN: So how do you two know each other?

REID: She was actually a previous victim of ours. Nearly a decade ago, I performed CPR after her ex-boyfriend pushed her off the boat, bound and gagged. They were out on the lake watching the Fourth of July firework show, but a witness recognized her from the news, which ultimately saved her life. Prior to that, he killed practically all of her next of kin because he believed they were responsible for the restraining order she filed against him. 

MORGAN: Why’d he risk taking her out in public?

REID: He was recreating their first date. How do you not remember this? 

MORGAN: Actually, now that you mention it, I do remember the case. Cause you made that stupid joke that he was trying to reignite a spark.

Reid makes an offended/sad face. Morgan smiles.

REID: You know, taking into consideration how much emotional trauma we’ve been through combined, there is a very real possibility that our relationship would be, for lack of a better word, doomed. She has no parents, my mom has schizophrenia. We’ve both been held hostage. I’ve been hospitalized, and she’s potentially been abducted for a second time. 

MORGAN: Seems like the perfect fit to me. 

REID: I’m being serious. 

MORGAN: I am, too. 

REID: Statistically, 40% of all long distance relationships end up failing in some way, including relationships where the partners are married. And of that 40%, 70% of these failures occur because of unplanned circumstances that happen to one of the participants in a relationship. Unplanned circumstances are practically a part of our line of work. Not to mention, most long distance relationships survive on two in-person visits per month. But relying on getting two cases in California per month is completely unrealistic. 

MORGAN: Kid, you can give me all the statistics and numbers to convince me why you shouldn’t be together, but the one thing you haven’t said is that you don’t like her. 

REID: Fine, I don’t like her. 

MORGAN: Then why am I driving to her house?

Reid pauses, not ready to admit he’s wrong. 

REID: Because this could be a lead on the case. 

MORGAN: Whatever you say, Pretty Boy. 

After a long period of time, Reid finally speaks.

REID: At first, I only noticed her because she looked like Maeve. Even when we were talking, it felt like I was talking to Maeve again. But then, she surprised me. She said that seeing me again felt like a “luck of the universe.” That’s when I realized, she’s not a girl who reminds me of Maeve. She’s her own person. She’s Maggie.

MORGAN: See that wasn’t so hard now was it?

REID: I will crush you.

. . .

Morgan and Reid are walking up the flight of stairs to get to Maggie’s apartment. 

MORGAN: Remind me again of the plan. Because realistically, she could just be playing hooky or be out somewhere else. 

REID: Once we get to her apartment, if she’s not there, I’ll call. 

MORGAN: Have we thought about what we’re gonna say if she is there? Oh sorry ma’am, we thought you were kidnapped.

REID: I’ll figure it out. 

Reid and Morgan are in her hallway. Morgan knocks on her door, but the door moves when he knocks on it. It’s open. Morgan and Reid exchange glances. Morgan reaches for his gun as he cautiously opens the door wider to enter. When they do, there’s no one inside. But there was an obvious sign of a struggle. A glass vase has been smashed.

REID: Call Hotch. I’ll call her. 

Morgan goes to the side to let Hotch know.

REID: (to himself) Please pick up. Please pick up.

MAGGIE: (her voicemail) Hey, it’s Mags. Sorry I couldn’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I’ll call you back when I can. 

Hearing Maggie’s voice almost makes him want to break down in tears, but he composes himself. 

MORGAN: Reid, we gotta go. Garcia found something. 

. . .

Hotch, JJ, Blake, Rossi, and Garcia are all together in the conference room while on the phone with Reid and Morgan. 

MORGAN: What’d you find, Baby Girl?

GARCIA: Well after doing some digging, I unearthed Marcus Linden and Toby Forthword. Who are they you may ask? Good question. They are Eliza O’Hara and Brynn Dryer’s sons. And you’re probably thinking, they have children? Yes indeedio they do. The reason I didn’t find this earlier was because when Brynn and Eliza were teen moms, they set up closed adoptions for their sons before they were born. I’ve been trying to find any contact they might’ve made with the agency or their kids since the adoptions, but I haven’t been able to. I thought that was weird, but I started searching for other women that fit the criteria, and would you believe - there was one. 

The pause Garcia takes before saying it, tells Reid it’s Maggie. 

GARCIA: Magnolia Tate.

Reid is at a loss for words. His mind is trying to wrap about what he’s hearing, but it’s all so much. 

HOTCH: Could you find any more connections?

GARCIA: A week before the abductions, all three of them went to a clinic for women who were pregnant or planning to be. 

Reid bites his lips as he tries to grasp it all. 

REID: Is she pregnant? 

All of them know who he’s referring to. 

JJ: Spence . . . they all were.

If Reid’s jaw could be on the floor, it would. Even Morgan winced as JJ revealed the news. A moment of silence falls over the group as they all feel for Spencer. Hotch is the first to speak after nearly a minute of not.

HOTCH: Apply those precedents to teen mothers in the early 2000s and cross it with women that gave birth to sons who ended up in the system instead of being adopted. 

MORGAN: Baby girl, look at kids that are around 18-20 now. He would’ve been recently freed from the system. He’ll most likely have a history of anger management issues or disciplinary issues. 

ROSSI: The mother might also be recently deceased. 

JJ: There’s your stressor.

BLAKE: With the death of his biological mother, he wouldn’t get the answers he wanted. He’d look for them from the women that his mother is similar to. Brynn, Eliza, and Magnolia all serve as surrogates. Garcia, he’d be aiming to work in the system. Not only would he want to prevent other kids from going through what he did, but it would also explain how he found them. 

JJ: You know the fact that all three women were pregnant could account for his anger. To him, that’s the ultimate form of betrayal. Giving their son up, only to have another child in the future to keep.

GARCIA: Got it. 

Spencer is still trying to process. He stays quiet as he fiddles with the napkin. It almost appears as though he might tear it.

. . .

Maggie’s balled up in a corner, hugging her knees. She’s badly beaten. She’s bleeding, her eyes are swollen from crying and she’s looking down at her stomach. The unsub is standing, watching this.

UNSUB: Don’t cry, Magnolia. I wouldn’t have done that if you just answered me. 

MAGGIE: You killed my baby!

UNSUB: And I’ll do more if you don’t answer me!

MAGGIE: Please . . . I can’t give you the answers you want. I’m not your mother. 

UNSUB: If you don’t answer me, I’ll hurt your little boy. I’ve been watching him very closely. His name is Elijah Martin, cute kid by the way. Quite the over-achieving 12 year old. He’s in soccer and track and field. Wanna see his school picture?

Maggie closes her eyes and turns her head so she doesn’t have to see. 

UNSUB: See, Magnolia, what you’re going through right now, is only a fraction of what I had to go through in my foster homes. I was tortured, bullied, abused. All because that old hag didn’t want to make the sacrifice to be a mother. So answer me this, how could you give him up?

MAGGIE: I may not have made the sacrifice to be a mother, but I did make a sacrifice the day I chose not to be his. I wanted to keep him. I cried when I watched him leave with that other family. But I couldn’t be the mother he needed.

UNSUB: Why haven’t you called him? Or tried to get him back?

MAGGIE: Reaching out would’ve done more harm than good. Not knowing who I am, or who his father was, meant that we could never stand in the way of his future. He can reach his fullest potential - free of mine or Charlie’s hindrance. 

The unsub understands Maggie. She’s gotten through to him. But he still carries anger. He groans in frustration and grabs Maggie by the collar of her shirt.

UNSUB: We’re gonna take a little trip.

. . . 

The BAU is at the local Police Department. Garcia is reading to them what she’s found. 

GARCIA: I know a textbook serial killer when I see one. His name is Ray Lewis-Fernandez. Throughout his time in foster care, he was a troublemaker. He never stayed for more than a month in a group home. Quite a Dennis the Menace, according to his foster families. It also says here that he got caught on multiple occasions trying to get his file so he could find his mother. Her name was Shawna Heights, and I say “was” because she passed away exactly two weeks before he was emancipated. 

MORGAN: So this guy is finally able to find his mother on his own, only to realize he missed her by two weeks. 

GARCIA: Talk about bad luck. But that isn’t even the worst of it. If Ray did do some digging after his emancipation, he would’ve discovered that Shawna had two sons and a daughter only a few years after he was born. 

JJ: Did he try to contact them?

GARCIA: No, but that’s the surprising part. I profiled him wanting to reach out and be one big ol’ happy family, but then I remembered I’m not a profiler.

REID: Wait, that might actually be it.

Everyone is shocked to hear Spencer speak up. 

GARCIA: Wait, I’m right?

REID: Foster families mentioned he’d been trying to find his mother but at the core of its meaning - he’s trying to find family. If his mission is to find family, he wouldn’t stay away unless he had to. Garcia, check if there’s a restraining order on Ray. 

GARCIA: Bingo, Boy Wonder! Malcolm, Shawna’s husband, filed it against him just days after Shawna’s funeral. 

REID: The restraining order means he can’t come within a certain distance of the kids, right? So he wouldn’t risk it all just to have lunch with them or send a letter. Think about it - high risk, high reward. Ray would only violate the order, if he could have them completely. But in order to not get caught, he’ll use maternal figures to lure them. They just lost their mother and seeing or talking to someone so similar to Shawna would make them that much more susceptible. But Brynn and Eliza are both mothers who have given up their sons. This means they know what inadequate guardians look like. They’re aware the kids are better off with Malcolm, and they won’t be responsible for abducting them and placing them under Ray’s care. It would completely go against their own reasoning for giving away their children. Their refusal to help him execute the plan angers him to the point of murder. He isn’t just killing because they’re surrogates for his rage, but because they refuse to help him achieve his goal. 

ROSSI: The kids are his endgame. 

BLAKE: All he’s wanted is a family. Now that he knows he has one that hasn’t already betrayed him, he’ll stop at nothing to have them.

HOTCH: What’s the address, Garcia?

GARCIA: Already sent it, sir. 

The BAU rushes out of the conference room. 

. . .

Maggie and Ray are sitting in his car. They’re watching the three children play - staking them out. Malcolm - their father, is nowhere to be seen. We’re to assume he’s at work while they’re at home. 

RAY: You see the boy with the red hoodie? That’s Malcolm Jr. He’s the oldest. Same age as your boy. Then Evan is the middle child. He’s eight. But the baby - she’s my favorite. Her name is Ariel cause of her red hair. She’s six. 

Maggie smiles for a split second before frowning. 

MAGGIE: You don’t have to do this. 

RAY: And I’m not. Because you will. 

Maggie breaks her gaze from the children to look at Ray with shock. 

MAGGIE: No, no, no I’m not kidnapping them. I won’t do it.

Ray retrieves his gun and points it at her stomach. 

RAY: You had a chance to have your family with Elijah. But you gave him up. Now that I have a chance, you’re gonna help me. 

MAGGIE: What if I don’t?

RAY: You’re smart. Figure it out.

MAGGIE: I will not be taunted with death if I don’t help you take someone else’s babies away. So go ahead, kill me. I’ve got nothing left to live for anyway. 

A gunshot. 

Standing in front of the car, is Malcom with his shotgun. The windshield is shattered by a single bullet that penetrated it. Malcolm fired a shot right through Ray’s head. Maggie is alive and in complete and total shock. Once Malcolm knows he’s dead he rushes to her door to help her. 

MALCOM: You have to unlock it. 

Maggie is forced to reach over Ray’s dead body and unlock the car. When she does, Malcolm helps her exit the vehicle. Maggie’s seen putting pressure on her stomach to stop the bleeding. 

Within seconds of escaping, police SUV’s arrive. Spencer is the first to run out of the car. 

Relief overcomes Maggie. 

MAGGIE: Spencer!

She stops him before he can hug her.

MAGGIE: No wait! I’m bleeding. 

Spencer ignores this and embraces her. Maggie sobs hysterically when he does. 

MAGGIE: He . . . he killed my -

SPENCER: Shh, I know. I know. I’m here now, okay?

Neither of them pull away. 

MAGGIE: Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re here. I knew I’d see you again. 

SPENCER: Yeah, you did. You were right Mags. 

These words make Maggie shut her eyes and smile. 

Hotch approaches the pair from behind. 

HOTCH: Miss Tate, there’s an ambulance here for you. Let’s get you to a hospital.

Maggie nods as Spencer helps her limp to a stretcher. 

When she situates herself and is lifted into the back of the ambulance, Spencer turns to Hotch. 

SPENCER: Can I - 

HOTCH: Yes, yes, go. We’ll meet you there. 

Spencer enters the back of the ambulance and sits beside Maggie as they ride to the hospital together. 

MAGGIE: You’re coming?

Spencer nods and gives a small reassuring smile. 

Another tear escapes her eyes as she smiles through the oxygen mask to thank him. 

. . .

The entire team is seated in a waiting room. Spencer is standing up and pacing as he waits for the doctor. 

A doctor soon enters. 

DOCTOR: Is there a Spencer Reid?

Spencer comes over quickly. 

SPENCER: That’s me.

DOCTOR: Come with me, sir. 

Spencer follows the Doctor. 

DOCTOR: Luckily, the lacerations didn’t travel far enough to do a significant amount of damage that would require surgery, but we did have to perform a blood transfusion due to the amount of blood she lost. 

SPENCER: How’s the baby?

DOCTOR: It was too early to tell the sex of the baby before she miscarried. She’s awake now and has been asking for you. 

SPENCER: Thanks. 

The doctor leaves as soon as Spencer knocks on the door. 

SPENCER: (quietly) Maggie?

Maggie’s face lights up when she sees him. 

MAGGIE: Hey you. 

Spencer pulls a chair closer to Maggie’s bedside to take her hand and kiss the back of it. She smiles as he does this. 

SPENCER: How are you feeling?

MAGGIE: Is it possible to feel incredibly lucky and incredibly lucky at the same time?

Spencer gives her that small reassuring smile. 

MAGGIE: I’ll be okay.

SPENCER: Good.

MAGGIE: I’m starting to regret not letting Tony take me home. 

Maggie and Spencer share a laugh. 

SPENCER: Yeah, I think you should let him drive you from now on. 

MAGGIE: Yeah, you’re probably right, but I don't think I want to work there anymore. Or even live here for that matter. 

SPENCER: I don’t blame you. 

MAGGIE: I grew up here, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore. 

SPENCER: Where are you thinking of going?

MAGGIE: Well, I completed my bachelor’s degree to become an English teacher, but I never applied to any schools. I think in my gut I knew I didn’t want a job to tie me down here, otherwise I’d never leave California - no matter how much I should. So realistically anywhere that’s offering positions to English teachers is ideal. 

Hearing Maggie’s an English major doesn’t surprise Spencer. 

SPENCER: You know, when I go back to D.C, I can find open teaching positions for you. Moving there would be a big change, but I think you’d feel safer at least.

MAGGIE: I think I would too. And I wouldn’t mind the change. Getting a couple thousand miles closer to you doesn’t sound so bad.

Spencer cheekily grins. 

SPENCER: Yeah?

Maggie nods. 

Hotch enters the room.

HOTCH: It’s time. 

Reid nods and turns back to Maggie. 

SPENCER: I’ll see you soon.

MAGGIE: Can’t wait. 

SPENCER: Goodbye, Maggie. 

He sits up and kisses her forehead. For a moment, he rests his forehead on hers. Maggie smiles when he does this little gesture. 

MAGGIE: Thank you. 

Spencer nods and shuts the door behind him when he leaves. 

With a heavy heart, Spencer leaves the hospital. 

. . .

On the plane back, everyone is asleep besides Spencer and Hotch. 

HOTCH: How is she?

SPENCER: She’ll be okay, but I can’t seem to figure out why. I thought she’d be broken. And I think deep down she is, but when she smiles, she isn’t faking it. 

HOTCH: “Sometimes the ones who have the brightest smiles are the ones who have known and endured deep darkness.”

SPENCER: Dodinsky. (the author of the quote)

. . .

It’s been a week since Spencer has visited Maggie, but he’s back now. Maggie is lying on her hospital bed, with Spencer entering her room. He hides something behind his back.

SPENCER: Knock! Knock! I brought you something.

MAGGIE: Oooh, fun!  

Spencer pulls out headbands with the words “Fourth of July” in block letters. 

SPENCER: Here. 

He slides one on top of her head and puts the other on himself. 

MAGGIE: What’s this for?

SPENCER: Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, we subconsciously link the tragic event with the date it happened on. It happens most often with death anniversaries, birthdays, or in your case, holidays. But I want to make the Fourth of July a good holiday again. So earlier, I asked the doctors if I could take you up to the roof to watch the fireworks. 

MAGGIE: Spencer . . .

SPENCER: Humor me. 

Maggie’s reluctant but she still reaches out her arms to have Spencer help her out of bed anyway. He wheels over the wheelchair to her and she groans. 

MAGGIE: Are you actually gonna make me use that?

SPENCER: I mean, you’re welcome to walk around the hospital with your backless patient gown.

Maggie laughs and complies. Spencer begins to wheel Maggie out of her room and into the elevator that goes up to the roof. When they finally get there, Maggie’s face lights up. There’s a whole picnic set out for the two of them. A blanket with small fixings is laid out for them. 

Maggie rises from the wheelchair and turns around to engulf Spencer in the biggest hug. 

MAGGIE: Thank you. This is like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. 

Spencer hugs her back even tighter. His hand is on the small of her back, and for a second he can feel her smooth skin, but like the gentleman he is, he tightly wraps Maggie’s hospital gown to cover her exposed skin. A small gesture that to Maggie, does not go unnoticed. 

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer's backs are lying flat against the blanket. They’re in the middle of a conversation where each of them are smiling.

SPENCER: JJ said that Henry wanted to dress up as his favorite profiler, and he came into the office as me. I even gave him my badge.  

MAGGIE: That is adorable! I can’t wait to have kids and celebrate Halloween with them. 

Spencer goes quiet, making Maggie realize what she said. 

MAGGIE: Oh, gosh, sorry I did not mean for that to take a dark turn. 

SPENCER: Do you want to talk about it? 

Maggie pauses. 

MAGGIE: Um, I mean, sometimes I get sad, but for the most part I’m okay. I think I’ve finally accepted that it happened. You know, I’m actually sort of relieved that I didn’t carry the baby full term, because could you imagine how complicated that would be? Yeah, it’s . . . it’s better this way. And I’ve always wanted a family, but if I had that sperm donor’s baby, I wouldn’t have a family, it’d just be me and the baby. But I want my child to grow up with a father, you know?

Yes, Reid does know. He wishes his father was around. 

SPENCER: Yeah, I do. 

MAGGIE: What about you? Do you want kids?

SPENCER: Absolutely. It’s funny because I always say that I could never picture myself leaving my job and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But if I had kids, they’d be the exception. I, uh, 

Spencer lightly laughs and looks down. 

SPENCER: Yeah, I don’t know, I just really want to be a dad one day. 

MAGGIE: You’d be a really good dad. I mean that. 

Originally, Maggie and Spencer were both looking up at the sky, but after Spencer turned his head and Maggie turned hers, their faces were only inches away. Spencer licks his lips as he contemplates kissing her. But he pivots. He smiles and kisses her forehead. 

Simultaneously, a firework goes off, startling the duo. Maggie laughs in excitement. 

SPENCER: Did you know that at MIT, one of the lessons they taught students earning their degree in chemistry was how to make a firework?

MAGGIE: You know how to make one? What do they use to make the colors?

SPENCER: Good question. To create certain colors, different physical elements are used. Magnesium creates a bright white light, like that one right there. While strontium and lithium each showcase a different shade of red, like the first one we saw. But the most dangerous colors to form, blues and greens, are formed from barium and copper. 

Spencer’s explanation continues for a little longer. The view above the pair zooms out. They’re just two small people on the roof of the hospital. 

. . .

Spencer is in his apartment. He’s on the phone with Maggie. 

MAGGIE: So I’m looking at an apartment in Manassas right now. It’s only half an hour away from the school and it’s a 45 minute drive from your apartment. 

SPENCER: You’re not very good at changing the subject, Maggie. Even now, I can read your body language. 

MAGGIE: I’m not changing the subject. I’m just mentioning my other options that are unrelated to the one you proposed. 

SPENCER: Wow, is the idea of living with me really that bad?

MAGGIE: No! I would love to live with you. 

SPENCER: But?

MAGGIE: But you’ve already done so much. You’ve saved my life twice, visited me every week I’ve been in the hospital, made the Fourth of July fun again, and helped me find a great teaching job over there. So I am sincerely grateful, but moving in with you would feel like taking advantage of your good heart. You’ve done a lot for me already, okay? I can take care of myself from now on. 

SPENCER: Okay, think of it instead as a mutualistic relationship. We both receive net benefits from moving in. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me because I’d be gaining something from it, too. I’d have a roommate and my rent would dichotomize. And for you, you’ll only be driving 15 minutes to work instead of 30. 

MAGGIE: Did you ever consider being a lawyer? You’re quite convincing. 

SPENCER: So is that a yes?

MAGGIE: It’s a “Yes I’ll move in with you but only if Plan A doesn’t pan out.”

SPENCER: Promise me you’ll think about it. 

MAGGIE: Okay, fine. I’ll think about it. 

SPENCER: Say it. 

MAGGIE: I promise. 

Spencer yawns. Maggie hears it. 

MAGGIE: What time is it over there?

SPENCER: 11:54. 

MAGGIE: Spencer! Why didn’t you tell me? You should’ve been asleep like two hours ago.

SPENCER: I’ll be fine. I don’t have to be at work until 7.

MAGGIE: You of all people know how bad it is to get less than 8 hours of sleep. I’m gonna hang up now so you can at least get 6. 

SPENCER: Then I’ll call back.

MAGGIE: Then I’ll decline. 

SPENCER: Fine, if I go to sleep, you have to agree to consider living with me as more than a Plan B.

MAGGIE: I already said I would! 

SPENCER: Mmm no. I’m not really feeling it. You have to say it nicely.  

MAGGIE: If you sleep now, I’ll consider living with you as more than a backup plan. 

SPENCER: Music to my ears. Sleep well, Maggie. 

MAGGIE: Sweet dreams, Spencer. 

Spencer lets Maggie hang up. Let it be known, that he has never once ended a call. 

. . .

It’s a few weeks later. Maggie’s finally out of the hospital. It’s official that she has the teacher job - no interview required thanks to Garcia. Currently, she and Spencer are packing the last of her things away into boxes in preparation for the cross country move she’s making tomorrow. 

MAGGIE: I know I’m still a little fragile, but the doctor said I’m all clear to resume normal activities. So would you please let me help you with the boxes?

SPENCER: Mmm, I don’t think so. 

MAGGIE: Need I remind you that I’ve been through worse than packing?

SPENCER: That would violate our designated jobs! I pack the boxes - you label them, remember? 

Spencer picks up a book from her shelf and reads the spine of it. From the looks of how empty the bookshelf is, he’s been packing away the books this entire time they’ve been packing.

SPENCER: By the way, I love your book collection. Very diverse. But the way you’ve organized them is peculiar, though. 

MAGGIE: What do you mean? Each shelf is categorized by genre. 

SPENCER: No, I figured that out, but why not in alphabetical order? Cause, see, you have several books from Dickens, but they’re sporadic on your shelves. And again with Austen and Steinbeck, you have several of their books, so organizing by last name means that all the books by the same author would be together. 

MAGGIE: Alright then, when I move, you can organize my bookshelf. 

SPENCER: Sweet!

MAGGIE: I was joki-

Maggie notices that Spencer actually takes pleasure in organizing her books, so she refrains from saying she’s joking. 

MAGGIE: Can I see a box? I forgot I have stuff on my fridge still to take down. 

SPENCER: Here. 

Spencer hands Maggie a box. Maggie begins to fill the box with her fridge magnets, postcards, and small reminders she put on her fridge. Only one picture is left on the fridge - a sonogram picture. Maggie had completely forgotten it was even there. But she drops the box immediately and pulls it off, placing it close to her chest. 

SPENCER: You okay?

Maggie pauses for a moment cherishing the picture. 

MAGGIE: Yeah.

SPENCER: What is it?

Spencer comes over. 

MAGGIE: I thought I threw this away, but I guess I didn’t. It was my first sonogram. 

SPENCER: Oh, from a few weeks ago?

MAGGIE: No - years ago. This is Elijah’s. 

Maggie smiles when she sees the picture. 

SPENCER: I think you should keep it - the picture I mean.

MAGGIE: Yeah, I think I might. I mean, if it’s stayed with me all these years, no sense in throwing it away now. 

Maggie puts the picture at the top of the pile in the box. 

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer are on the plane heading to Virginia. Reid’s reading and Maggie is sorting through some papers with an earbud in one ear.

MAGGIE: Before we left, I contacted the landlord for that apartment in Manassas weeks ago, but he never got back to me. 

SPENCER: I guess it’s a good thing you have a Plan B then. 

Spencer smirks. 

MAGGIE: Remind me again that we mutually benefit so I don’t feel so guilty that you’re constantly helping me but I can never find the opportunity to pay you back. 

SPENCER: Stop it, okay. I want you to move in with me. 

MAGGIE: I snore really loudly. 

SPENCER: Completely okay. 

MAGGIE: I take long showers. 

SPENCER: Not a problem. 

MAGGIE: Late at night, I’ll get random bursts of energy and get really hyper and bothersome. 

SPENCER: So do I. 

Maggie groans in frustration. 

MAGGIE: I feel like you know the reason why I don’t want to move in with you, but even I don’t know why. 

SPENCER: It’s quite simple actually. You’ve spent nearly a decade living alone. And because of that, you think you prefer isolation over having company. But in reality, you’re just scared. Because the last time you were surrounded by a lot of people, they eventually died, essentially abandoning you. And it might not seem like it, but I know exactly what that feels like. To be scared of abandonment. 

MAGGIE: Really?

SPENCER: When I was three, my dad left me and my mom. And a year ago, my girlfriend was shot in front of me.

Maggie’s speechless. 

SPENCER: You and I - we’re scared to let people in and get attached to them. The reason is because we’re afraid to suffer or let go. So, we think, in order to protect ourselves, we have to stay away from the people we’re getting attached to - which is hard because it is equivalent to avoiding the privilege of becoming happy. So we’re caught in the middle of which pain we’d rather endure - the pain caused by unhappiness and loneliness, or the pain that we know, nobody will ever be strong enough to stand against - the pain of letting go. 

Maggie’s astonished. 

MAGGIE: If our love could’ve saved them, they would’ve lived forever. 

A tear rolls down Maggie’s cheek. Spencer uses the pad of his thumb to brush it away. 

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are at the baggage claim of the Virginia Airport. Maggie yawns and leans into Spencer, who puts his arm around her and comfortingly rubs her. 

SPENCER: Tired?

MAGGIE: Extremely. 

SPENCER: We can get coffee on the way home. 

MAGGIE: Are you reading my mind right now?

Spencer laughs.

Maggie sees her suitcase come through on the conveyor belt. Maggie lifts her baggage up, and they begin to exit the airport. 

. . .

Spencer is driving and Maggie is in the passenger seat, trying to fight her sleepiness. 

SPENCER: Tell me about your parents. 

Maggie’s surprised by not unwilling. 

MAGGIE: My mom’s name was Amina. She met my dad, Sonny, in college, and had me when she was 24, but he took off when she got pregnant. At first, I didn’t mind it just being the two of us, but when I was seven, there was a father-daughter dance at my school. I wrote him a letter inviting him to it. He didn’t show up, of course. Not that I really expected him to, but ever since then, I’ve resented him. My mom used to say that he was the reason why I dated Charlie. She said that I never got to see an example of what a good man looks like or how a girl should be treated. In hindsight, she was totally right. 

SPENCER: How did she react to your pregnancy?

MAGGIE: Well, at first she said she was gonna slap Charlie, but she wasn’t even really mad at me. Instead, she just said that if I wanted to have a future and if I wanted the baby to have a good future, I should set up an adoption. Later that same year, she helped me file a restraining order on Charlie. My mom was always looking out for me. It felt like she always knew what the right choice was.

SPENCER: She sounds like a really good person. 

MAGGIE: And she was. I just wish I told her that more often. Growing up, I thought one day I’d get a job and become rich enough to support the both of us. I’d even buy her a range rover - it was a car she wanted since forever. I never got to do that for her, but she used to say to me, “Some people are so poor, all they have is money.” And I think about that everyday. I was never spoiled or born with a golden spoon, but we were so rich in love. She loved me so much, that she’s the reason I wanted to have a baby. Just days after her death anniversary, I visited the clinic. It’s silly, but I just wanted to be half as good a mother as she was.

SPENCER: I feel the same way about my mom. I wanted to grow up and create a cure for schizophrenia by the time I was 29. And even though I’m far from doing so, I’m not giving up hope that I still can. 

MAGGIE: Does she live here?

SPENCER: She’s in a facility in Vegas. 

MAGGIE: Well, if I ever find myself in Nevada, I’d really like to thank her for raising the perfect son. 

Spencer gaily smiles.

SPENCER: Would you maybe want to visit her with me one day?

Maggie nods.

SPENCER: You two would have a lot to talk about. She was a former professor of 15th century literature. 

MAGGIE: Does she still hold lectures?

SPENCER: She does. I attended one of them years ago. It completely changed my perspective. I realized that I owe all of who I am today to her. 

MAGGIE: Then we have to attend one of her lectures when we visit.

SPENCER: She’ll be so happy when I let her know. 

Maggie and Spencer continue to talk about literature. 

. . .

Now in a coffee shop, Maggie and Spencer are nursing their drinks at a table in the corner of the cafe. 

MAGGIE: Earlier, we were talking about your mom a lot, but on the plane, we spoke about your dad leaving when you were really little.

SPENCER: Yeah, um, eventually he wrote a letter saying that he just didn’t know how to be a dad to me anymore. That and he couldn’t deal with my mom’s paranoid schizophrenia anymore. 

MAGGIE: I’m sorry to hear that. I know it’s not easy growing up without a dad. 

SPENCER: He’s partly the reason I want to have kids. I want to be the dad mine never was.

Maggie nods. 

SPENCER: I’m not as mad as I used to be about it. Over time, I slowly stopped caring about him. 

MAGGIE: As you should. 

SPENCER: Um, we still have an hour before we’re home so-

MAGGIE: Yeah, no of course. Lemme just use the bathroom really quick before we go. 

Maggie leaves her phone and her coffee cup at the table. Spencer sips from his drink but stops when he sees Maggie’s phone ringing. The call’s number has a familiar area code. Spencer instantly recognizes it from Manassas. He realizes that the caller is the landlord from the apartment in Manassas that Maggie said hadn’t gotten back to her. He looks at the bathroom and sees Maggie isn’t back yet, so he declines and deletes the call. 

He wants Maggie to live with him, and knowing the landlord called her back would ruin any chances of that happening. And Spencer wasn’t taking any chances. 

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer are finally at his apartment. They’re climbing the flight of stairs, with Spencer carrying Maggie’s backpack for her - like a gentleman. When they reach his door, Spencer unlocks it and opens it for her to walk through first. In that same breath, confetti comes flying. 

Maggie is startled by this, but comes to realize that the entire BAU is in his apartment. A banner hangs behind the team saying “Welcome!”

She laughs and goes to greet each of them.

JJ: I’m JJ. 

Maggie shakes her hand. 

MAGGIE: Maggie Tate. Nice to meet you. 

MORGAN: Derek Morgan. I’ve heard a lot about you. 

MAGGIE: All good things I hope. 

HOTCH: Aaron Hotchner. 

MAGGIE: Right of course. I remember you from the day you guys found me. 

BLAKE: Alex Blake. Nice to finally meet you. 

MAGGIE: Likewise.

ROSSI: David Rossi. Spencer’s Italian grandpa. 

Maggie laughs and Rossi greets her by kissing each of her cheeks. 

ROSSI: Got any Italian blood in you?

MAGGIE: Oh, I wish. Half Filipino, half Mexican. 

ROSSI: A beautiful mix nonetheless. 

Finally, Maggie meets Penelope. Before Maggie can even say anything, Penelope envelopes her in a huge hug. 

MAGGIE: You must be Penelope!

She pulls away.

GARCIA: At your service. 

MAGGIE: I really like your glasses. Cool color. 

GARCIA: (to Spencer) I love her already. 

Maggie returns to Spencer after all the greetings.  

MAGGIE: Did you know they were gonna do this?

SPENCER: I might’ve. 

Maggie turns back to everyone.

MAGGIE: I wish I would’ve known I was meeting you all, I would’ve worn something nicer than leggings and jet lag. 

They laugh and tell her that it’s not a problem. 

GARCIA: So we thought you guys might be hungry, so there’s chips and guac as well as other little snacks. 

MAGGIE: It’s crazy, because I was craving just that.

Penelope gasps and smiles. She extends her arm for Maggie to wrap her arm around. 

GARCIA: Well then let’s dig in. 

Garcia leads Maggie arm in arm to the food. While Spencer draws back to set her things down. JJ waits up for him. 

JJ: She’s pretty. 

SPENCER: She is, isn't she? And she’s more than that, too. Everytime we talk, she never fails to surprise me with her wit or mind. She reminds me a lot of you. 

JJ smiles as Spencer and her rejoin the group. 

. . .

It’s almost the evening now, and Maggie and Spencer are bidding each guest goodbye. The last one to leave is of course Penelope. But when she does, Spencer and Maggie are alone again. Spencer shuts the door behind Garcia, and turns and presses his back to it and sighs. Maggie exhales too. 

SPENCER: I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think this would last for as long as it did. 

MAGGIE: No, no don’t apologize. I like spending time with them. I’m pretty sure Garcia’s energy cured my jet lag. 

Spencer laughs and walks back to Maggie.

MAGGIE: I think I’m gonna go shower now. Try to wash off the flight from me. 

Spencer nods and leads her to the bathroom. 

SPENCER: Just turn this knob to the left if you want it hotter, and to the right if you want cold water. When you’re done just press down on this. 

Spencer presses on the little knob, and when he does, the shower sprays him with water and sprays Maggie, too. She squeals and begins to laugh when she sees Spencer’s hair is drenched. It’s all stringy and in his face, so she pushes it back to see his smiling face. She leaves her hands around his cheeks, cupping his face. 

MAGGIE: Well that’s one way to get wet!

SPENCER: Oh yeah? What’s the other?

The delivery of his innuedo is so subtly seductive. Maggie dismisses it and laughs instead. 

MAGGIE: Um, just tell me where the towels are and I can bring you one to dry your hair. 

He points her in the direction and Maggie promptly leaves the bathroom. When she does, Spencer sees himself in the mirror and realizes just how ridiculous he looks. But on the inside, he feels doubly ridiculous. He’s so embarrassed from what he just said that his cheeks turn red. 

. . . 

Spencer is cleaning up what was left of the welcoming party. He’s in the kitchen, when he hears Maggie exit the shower. Her hair is damp and stringy, and she’s drying it with a towel. Spencer notices the clothes she’s wearing. She has on sweatpants and to his surprise, his shirt. 

MAGGIE: I forgot my pajamas were with the moving truck. I hope you don’t mind. 

SPENCER: Not at all. 

Maggie thanks him with a smile and walks a little more into the living room. She notices that the couch has a blanket and pillows on it. 

MAGGIE: What is this?

SPENCER: What do you mean?

MAGGIE: Are you gonna sleep out here?

SPENCER: Yeah, why?

MAGGIE: No. 

SPENCER: No what?

MAGGIE: No, you’re not sleeping on your couch in your own apartment. I won’t let you. 

SPENCER: It’s fine really. I’ve slept on it before. 

MAGGIE: Do you not want to share a bed?

SPENCER: No, it’s not about that. I just want you to have the bed to yourself. 

MAGGIE: If anything, I should be sleeping on the couch because I’m a guest.

SPENCER: No, I’m serious. I’ll sleep out here. 

MAGGIE: Okay fine. 

Maggie dramatically flops onto the couch. 

MAGGIE: Then I’ll join you. 

Spencer sighs and shakes his head. 

SPENCER: You’re really gonna sleep on the couch with me?

MAGGIE: Mhm. 

SPENCER: Why are you being so stubborn?

MAGGIE: Why are you being so stubborn?

SPENCER: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

MAGGIE: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

SPENCER: You’re acting childish. 

Spencer comes over to Maggie. He stands in front of her, towering over her small figure. 

MAGGIE: You’re acting childish. 

SPENCER: Stop repeating what I’m saying.

MAGGIE: Stop repeating what I’m saying. 

SPENCER: I mean it, Maggie!

She shoots up from the couch and makes a grumpy face to imitate Spencer. Their bodies are so close. 

MAGGIE: I mean it, Maggie!

Spencer takes the opportunity of their closeness and uses it to put his arms behind her back and swoop her up - bridal style. Maggie squeals and tries to squirm out of his arms, but he resists and carries her all the way into the bedroom. He tosses her onto the bed and starts to tickle at her sides. 

MAGGIE: Stop! Stop!

Maggie’s laughing so hard, she’s breathless. 

SPENCER: Not until you agree to sleep in the bed. 

MAGGIE: I want to sleep on the couch with you!

SPENCER: Well I guess I’m gonna keep tickling you then. 

Maggie laughs so hard she’s almost in tears. Suddenly, she sees a window of opportunity to escape. When she does she runs out into the living room. Spencer chases after her through the apartment. Maggie dodges some of his attempts to capture her, but is ultimately outrun by him. He gets her to fall flat on the couch as he hovers above her. Both of them are smiling and breathless. 

SPENCER: You’re not gonna give this up are you?

Maggie shakes her head no. 

SPENCER: Alright, I surrender. But if in the morning, you wake up and find that you’ve magically teleported to the bed after falling asleep on the couch, it wasn’t me. 

MAGGIE: Deal. 

. . .

It’s sometime late at night and Spencer has finished showering. Maggie’s traveling through his apartment and looking at everything closer. She notices he has a record player. And all the records are classical music.

MAGGIE: Interesting record collection. Beethoven, Mozart, and Bach. Why am I not surprised?

SPENCER: Am I that predictable?

MAGGIE: Just a little. Care if I try to expand your music taste? 

Maggie pulls out her phone. After some scrolling and typing, she begins to play “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron. Spencer is unfamiliar with this song, but it’s abundantly clear Maggie loves it. 

MAGGIE: Do you dance?

SPENCER: Oh, no, no. 

MAGGIE: Just dance with me. I’ll teach you. 

The song plays in the background as Spencer shyly approaches Maggie. Maggie puts one arm out and Spencer takes her hand. Then he timidly puts his hand on her back, but with confidence, Maggie slides his hand down to her waist. Maggie puts her hand on his shoulder. Promptly, Spencer and Maggie both peer down at their feet as Maggie leads the dance. She does the classic box step, and after fidgeting around, Spencer gets it. 

MAGGIE: There you go. You got it!

They dance a little more. 

MAGGIE: Do you think you can lead?

Spencer nods, and Maggie lets him lead. As the song reaches the chorus, Spencer finally gets his confidence. He doesn’t have to look down at his feet anymore. He finally looks at Maggie. To her surprise, Spencer spins her and dips her. They stay put in this position. Neither of them break eye contact.

MAGGIE: You sure you don’t dance?

Spencer sheepishly smiles and shakes his head. He brings her up from the dip. Maggie’s flustered from the thrill of dancing with him, so much so that she pulls away.

MAGGIE: So, did you um, did you like the song?

SPENCER: Yeah, I did. 

MAGGIE: You know, that, that could be like our song. 

SPENCER: Our song. Yeah, okay. 

. . . 

It’s the middle of the night now. Maggie is sprawled across the couch, asleep. Spencer is at the table reading. He only has one dim light on so as not to make it harder for Maggie to sleep with a bigger light on. He peers over the couch and sees that she’s sleeping so he picks her up and carries her bridal style again. When he lays her in the bed, she stirs and mumbles. 

MAGGIE: (quietly) Spencer?

SPENCER: (whispering) Sorry, I was trying not to wake you. 

MAGGIE: Can you just sleep in the bed? I don’t want you on the couch. 

SPENCER: Yeah, yeah. I’ll sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep soon, but I’m just gonna be outside reading. Goodnight, Maggie. 

Maggie’s already fallen fast asleep again. Spencer leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. 

As Spencer approaches the table, his reading material can be visibly seen. A thick stack of papers within a manila folder labeled “CONFIDENTIAL.” He opens it to resume reading the contents. On the very front, a scanned picture of a man’s driver’s license is paperclipped to another paper. The name on the driver’s license reads, “S.J Glover.” a.k.a Sonny Jr. Maggie’s dad. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

[octo-cutie]

I Know It’s Today

Pairing: Royal AU Daichi x f!reader Warnings: None Rating: PG (Hooliganism via Y/N, some bullying of Daichi from Kuroo and Bokuto) Summary: Y/N is a lonely princess whose only friend is her knight Daichi. Y/N dreams of meeting her prince and spends hours telling Daichi about everything she imagines her prince to be. Daichi however knows her to be his princess in more ways then one. When her dreams seem to become a reality Daichi learns a hard truth but makes an astonishing discovery.

Daichi had first met Y/N when she was seven and he was eleven. His parents had moved him away from their home country of Miyagi to Tokyo for him to enroll in the Tokyo Knight Program. 

Y/N had immediately requested that he be her knight when she met him for the first time. 

“You’re my friend now! Come on let’s go read in the library!” Y/N had explained dragging Daichi out of the throne room and through the castle to what she called her “secret place” 

It was here that Daichi learned of Y/N’s belief that there was a prince out there for her. 

“You know Snow White right? Well she bit an apple and fell into a coma! I don’t even know how she got her prince but then one day he just shows up and they get married! Soon that’s going to be me! In only....” Y/N counted on her fingers for a few minutes as Daichi thumbed over the Big Book of Fairytales that Y/N was incredibly attached too. The dogeared leather bound book was aging and looked as though it had been thoroughly loved. 

Did she like reading as much as he did? Did she like adventuring? Maybe she would grow to be more than just a princess and be his friend.

“Probably like 8,423 days or something!” Y/N said starling Daichi.

“What?” 

“That’s probably how many days it’s gonna take for me to meet my prince!”

Daichi felt a weight pool in his stomach as Y/N continued to talk about her prince. It hurt him in a way he couldn’t really explain but since he was eleven, he didn’t think much of it. 

Y/N and Daichi soon became incredibly close friends. When Y/N wasn’t in school, or working on one of her extracurriculars she and Daichi could be found exploring the entire castle, and the town outside.  

Daichi learned that Y/N couldn’t speak the Outsider Tongue but she knew the Language of Flowers. 

She had no idea what 8 times 6 was but she could name every constellation and how far away their brightest star was from Earth. 

When she wasn’t sitting perfectly poised on her throne for a family portrait, she was messing up her skirts and knees in the trees with Daichi as they played make believe and captured bad guys and saved princesses. Daichi ended up being the princess more often than not. 

But every moment they spent together made up the best of his childhood memories. The happiness of them outweighed the idea that one day Daichi would loose her to a prince. 

Like Y/N had said; 

Something like 8,423 days.

________________________________________________________________

“DAICHI!!!!” 

Y/N’s voice echoed down the hallway as she ran as fast as she could in 4 layers of clothing, a corset, heels, and a tiara. Daichi’s eyes widened as the blur of blues and golds slammed into him knocking the two of them on the floor. As respectfully as he could, Daichi untangled the two of them and helped his princess stand up. 

“Please be careful! You could have hurt yourself.” Daichi explained as Y/N stuck her tongue out at him and flounced down the hallway. Daichi quickly followed her as Y/N began to explain what she had chased him down for. 

“Never mind me getting hurt! Guess what! Father told me that I’m going to be a real princess soon!” Y/N exclaimed clapping her hands together as Daichi held the door to her room open for her. 

“But you are a real princess?” Daichi asked confused as Y/N’s face blushed heavily while twirling a strand of their h/c hair around her finger. 

“No silly! A real princess! There’s a prince who’s coming to meet me and Father is planning a ball! And it’s only 58 days away! ” Y/N explained jumping onto her bed and kicking her shoes off and crawling over to a giant book on the opposite side of the bed. Daichi felt a awkward twisting of his gut as he followed suit and sat on the queen sized bed with her as she opened up the giant book to the story of Rapunzel. 

“See Rapunzel’s like me! She’s in a tower with long flowing hair but she’s not allowed to leave or go anywhere. So she sings but I probably sing better than her!” Y/N proclaimed while puffing her cheeks out. Daichi felt the weird feeling arise in his belly again. Was he sick or something? Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to allow Kuroo and Bokuto to challenge him to an eating contest last night. Y/N had begun to sing about witches and millionaires. Daichi didn’t realize it but his face had erupted in a goofy grin and a very quaint blush. 

“And of course he’ll be here soon! Because all princesses get their prince one day! No matter who he is!” Y/N cheered loudly as she engulfed Daichi in a hug giggling. Daichi couldn’t help but let the feeling take over his body as Y/N snuggled into Daichi’s arms as she read the rest of Rapunzel out loud to the young knight. 

When Takeda approached the two children to whisk Y/N away for her etiquette lessons, he found them cozied up asleep with the book open on Daichi’s lap. This had been a cute endeavor when they were seven and eleven respectively but now they were far to old to participate in such things.  

“Daichi! How could you fall asleep when the princess is in your care! Get back to the barracks for the remainder of the day!” He snapped pulling Daichi out of her room and pushing him down the hallway. Daichi hung his head in shame as he walked down the castle corridors and out towards the knights barracks. 

When he walked into the barracks low whistles came from Kuroo’s bunk. Daichi rolled his eyes and took a seat at a table with a grumpy look on his face. 

“So I guess you heard about the prince who’s coming to court our sweet sweet princess, Y/N.” Kuroo chuckled nudging Bokuto in the ribs who laughed along with him. 

“Shut up.” Daichi said banging his head on the table. 

“Yeah and you know this means we have to go to the ball too! Maybe I’ll get to dance with Y/N!” Bokuto mused with a dream like tone. Daichi felt the uncomfortable feeling once again in his stomach and it was now that he realized what it was. Abruptly he stopped banging his head against the table and the snickers began to arise once again. 

“Ah it looks as if the crow boy knows why he’s been blushing since he walked in here!” Terushima called from his bunk where he was hanging upside down. 

It was at this moment that Daichi realized he was in deep trouble. 

Time sure had sped up from 8,423 days to just 58...

________________________________________________________________

Daichi saw less and less of Y/N as she was busy preparing for her suitor to arrive. In this time, Y/N turned sixteen and had a small birthday gathering. Daichi hadn’t been able to see her at all that day and had learned he was being taken in by one of the older Knights for his real training leaving even less time to spend with Y/N. 

In a span of less than six months, the ball was underway and Daichi was fretting as he stood outside the doors along with Kuroo as a body guard. Subconsciously he had plastered a grimace on his face as he waited for the arrival of Y/N’s suitor to appear. It was his job to escort the prince to Y/N and accompany him as long as he courted Y/N. Daichi couldn’t wait for this entire ordeal to be over. In the sea of people  Daichi watched Takeda’s head bob up and down guiding the suitor towards him. 

“Ah! Here he is. Daichi let me introduce you to your-” 

“Suga?” 

“Daichi?” 

The long lost friends embraced happily with large smiles. Dachi’s family had sent him of to the kingdom of Miyagi for knight training while Suga’s family ruled over the kingdom of Tokyo. It had been a somber parting and the two had gradually lost contact. But now that they had reunited Daichi momentarily forgot that Suga was here to court Y/N. 

“Well! I’m glad you two are acquainted! Now, Daichi you’ll be escorting Suga around the castle until he and Y/N are promised to each other on her 18th birthday.” 

And the shoe dropped right on Daichi’s head. And kicked his heart into overload. 

“Yes sir. I am in your service Your Highness.” Daichi said with a small bow to Suga who blushed lightly at the mention of Y/N. With that Takeda took his leave and Suga pulled Daichi up from his bow. 

“Daichi don’t bow to me. We’ve known each other for years.” Suga said. Daichi laughed, scratching the back of his head and gestured for Suga to follow him. 

“So... You’re going to court Y/N?” Daichi asked after the two had walked in silence. If there was one thing that Daichi remembered, Suga preferred the quiet before the storm. 

“Yeah, I’m excited to meet her. Apparently this has been arranged since our births.” Suga said as they passed a portrait of the Miyagi Royal Family. Daichi watched as his long time friend let his eyes linger on Y/N’s face. 

“So if you marry her will you be moving here?” Daichi asked with a shred of hope in his voice. Suga shook his head. 

“Nope, Y/N would move back to Tokyo with me. Of course her hand maidens would come with her but she would be given new body guards and the like once we return home.” Suga explained with a sad smile as though he knew what Daichi was thinking inside his head. 

“Oh no I was just you know wondering.” Daichi coughed into his armor as an excuse. His heart was doing backflips over a burning fire as he thought about Suga’s words. 

“You’d probably go with us. After all you are her personal body guard as well as mine.” Suga said turning away from the portrait and back towards Daichi’s face. “Alright I am hungry! Sneak me into the party Daichi!” 

With a laugh Suga set off leaving Daichi bewildered by his friends actions. Hurriedly he followed his friend who was idly chatting about all the things Daichi had missed out on seeing that he was now in Tokyo and not Miyagi. But all that went through Daichi’s head was the frantic notion that he could one day be split up from Y/N... 

What would he even do with out her? 

________________________________________________________________

“Now presenting! The Crown Prince of Miyagi: Koushi Sugawara!” the announcer proclaimed as Suga walked down the red carpet towards the Tokyo Royal Family; the King, his seconf wife, and Y/N all of whom were seated on their thrones waiting for him. Daichi walked at his side his eyes never leaving the third and smallest throne that sat before him. 

Y/N said with her h/c hair perfectly brushed and cascading down her back. Her e/c eyes looked fondly at Suga with the same eyes that she held looking for her prince. Dressed in a dusty rose ball gown made of luscious satin Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her face as her s/c cheeks broke out in a faint blush to match the ornate flower crown she wore in her hair. 

She was beautiful...

It was the same pair of eyes Daichi wore when he looked at the princess every day. Eyes that didn’t belong on him, nor to him. Eyes he would lose once the festivities of the engagement were over. 

“Your majesties.” Suga said with a respectable bow. The king snapped his fingers and a fourth throne was brought out directly to the side of Y/N. Daichi knew his place was right behind the fourth throne to protect Suga in case anything were to happen. Behind Y/N, Kuroo stood with a wide smirk plastered on his face as Daichi stood next to him. 

“So now you’re taking care of her fiancé? This must be kicking your ass so badly right now.” Kuroo whispered, the mockery flowing through each word. 

“Kuroo I swear to god if you don’t shut up. I will kick your ass.” Daichi muttered, his eyes now stuck on the now intertwined pinkies of Y/N and Suga. Kuroo matched his gaze and his smirk grew wider. 

“I doubt it.” He whispered again and straightened himself. Daichi huffed under his breath and watched as the ball began with the King’s address about the strengthening of kingdoms through marital unity or something. Daichi merely tuned the words out as he watched Suga and Y/N play around with their fingers intertwined almost as if their were talking to each other. 

The kings speech continued and Daichi grew restless watching Y/N and Suga mingle their hands together like the snakes in the forests outside. It irked him. That was something Y/N used to to with him when she was nervous but now with Suga, it looked entirely comfortable. 

“And with that I know our union, the Land of Japan will grow stronger with every passing generation. But for now let us commence the engagement with this ball and all the enticing festivities!” The king boomed and with a wide sweep of his arm gestured to the prince and princess. Suga beamed at his bride to be and took her hand leading Y/N to the dance floor. The majestic gown that draped Y/N left a waterfall effect as the two began their dance 

Each twist and turn matched the pattern that Daichi’s heart wove for himself. Gradually many other couples joined them on the dance floor and gradually Daichi lost sight of the silver prince and his partner. He kept a look out for the shades of silver and dusty rose yet the colors of red, black, gold, ivory and every color imaginable clouded his vision and obscured the girl from sight. 

But Daichi watched the like guard dog he was trained to be. He stood watch for the many hours that Y/N occupied the floor sometimes with Suga, other times with her father, her mother, and with other princesses or princes. Something that he would never experience by nature of his station. 

But he could pretend for one night that it was him on the dance floor leading Y/N around the dance floor like they had when they were younger. 

________________________________________________________________

Daichi yawned to himself as he dressed in his usual uniform. He had taken up the late night shifts of guarding Y/N and Suga until they separated to their chambers for the night. Now since Daichi had been assigned to guard Suga it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see Y/N. No in fact he would see her at all hours of the day since Suga was determined to learn everything about her. 

If Daichi wasn’t mistaken Suga and Y/N would be taking their day in the gardens. A perfect place for the two of them seeing as it was the one place that Y/N was truly at home and Suga came from a kingdom in the country. A planted prince for a wildflower princess. 

Daichi snagged a sandwich from the table in the barracks and made his way into the dining room of the castle where the two royals were enjoying breakfast together. The outfit that Y/N was dressed in was a lilac pair of overalls with a white cardigan. Atop her h/c head she wore a beautiful sun hat adorned with purple butterflies and tied off with a white ribbon. 

“Suga I’m surprised with you! For a country prince you know nothing of the flowers!” Y/N giggled as she sipped her morning tea. It was jasmine tea brewed with no sugar and served in traditional china. Daichi knew the recipe by heart and it was one of many trivial things he had memorized about her. 

“Well even a country bumpkin like me, we don’t produce many flowers! Most of our soil is made to produce fruits and vegetables.” Suga explained sipping his own tea. Clearing his throat, Daichi made himself known

“Excuse me your highnesses but I am here to escort you to the gardens.” Daichi said with a small bow. Y/N shot up and Suga followed as Daichi led the two of them out into the open air. 

Daichi watched as Y/N grabbed Suga’s hand and led him around the flower beds stopping occasionally to point out a flower and explain its meaning. Lilacs, Sunflowers, Primroses, Camellias, and the like. Every flower bed was planted personally by Y/N and they where her prized possession. 

Well besides her fairytale book. Daichi wondered if she had showed it to Suga yet... 

“Tell me what your favorite flower in this garden is.” Suga asked giving her hand a squeeze. Y/N’s face lit up and off she dragged the prince to a secluded area in the garden where a haphazard bush of pink tinted white roses 

“The bridal rose represents happy love. I’ve been growing this species of flower since my 12th birthday. It represents the type of love I hope that we’ll have together.” Y/N expressed with a blush as she took Suga’s hands in hers. Daichi’s breath hitched as he watched the two royals joining their lips together ever so gently. He turned away to give them some privacy but to his dismay he turned to face the daffodils. 

It was rather ironic. 

Daichi avoided the eyes of his friends for the remainder of the day. He ignored the laughter and lilted voices as they parted ways for the evening. Daichi held his mouth pressed in a firm line as both he and Suga entered the royal guest chambers. 

“Daichi I can feel you glaring at my neck and it’s starting to hurt. What is it?” Suga asked breaking Daichi’s death glare behind him. 

“Oh uh... It’s nothing just not feeling to well.” Daichi mumbled not ceasing his glare at the man. 

“Could it be you don’t feel well because of my being here?” Suga asked sitting on the side of his bed and pulling at the sleeve of his shirt quietly. Daichi sighed and ran a hand through his hair attempting to figure out how to lie his way out of this. Suga was his best friend and Y/N’s fiancé. 

The two of them were royals. 

Daichi was a knight. 

The moment anyone other than his “brothers” found out he would be done for. Besides being stripped of his knighthood, it would a miracle to not be banished by the king. This entire ordeal was egregious and it would end up with him losing everything he was and everyone he loved. Daichi would be labeled a traitor for “abusing” his power as Y/N’s bodyguard. 

There was no excuse for the look that was on Suga’s face. It was a look of understanding. A look of acknowledgement. 

When Daichi opened his mouth to speak Suga held his hand up to stop him. 

“Daichi I think I know what you’re about to say and I’m going to say it for you if you don’t mind. You’re overwhelmed. By my presence, by having to watch Y/N get married, by having to push your feelings down for her to keep her happy. It’s pretty obvious.” Suga said with a sad smile. 

Panic washed over Daichi. Suga knew and he’d been found out. Now Suga would probably rat him out to the king. 

“Wait Suga no... That’s not why-” Rather than letting him finish, Suga chucked his boot at him.

“Daichi don’t lie to me. Like I said it’s obvious.” Suga explained as he walked over to help Daichi up from where he had fallen.

“Y/N is beautiful. She’s very kind, extremely driven, overly earnest, and fairly spirited. Everything that you are and what the stars describe you to be. It would be wrong of me to impede on this childhood love that you have with her.” Suga said looking his friend in the eye. Daichi couldn’t help but gape like a fish at how quickly Suga had read into his false emotions. 

“But I can’t. She’s a princess and I’m a knight. It’s not as if I can just mosey on up to the king and ask him for Y/N’s hand. I’d be banished immediately.” Daichi snapped pushing past Suga and towards a cushioned chair in the corner where he sat with his face shoved in his hands. 

“Do you know what her dream is?” Daichi whispered as his traitorous tears stung his eyes and painted his cheeks. Suga shook his head. 

“Her dream is to find her prince who will give her a beautiful marriage and a happy life. A prince. I’m not a prince and I never will be but I’ve stayed with her helping her to find him because I love her. I love her so god damn much.” Daichi mumbled from behind his hands. 

It was too much after that. Years worth of embarrassed sobs wracked through Daichi’s body as he broke down in front of Suga who was destined to be with Y/N. Suga’s comforting nature took over and he moved towards his friend with a handkerchief and a soothing circular motion on his back. Soon Daichi’s sobs turned to quiet hiccups. 

“I’ve given her everything I can and I will give her whatever she needs or wants for the rest of my life when you two get married. I’m sorry Suga but when you guys get married I won’t be able to stop loving her.” Daichi said removing his hands from his face and looking at Suga. Suga nodded quietly and hummed to himself. 

“I understand. And I will not fault you for that.” Suga explained. A couple more minutes of them sitting in silence eventually let their eyes wander to the sun which had set completely behind the mountains. 

“I’m deeply sorry for my conduct this evening Suga.” Daichi apologized with a low bow. Suga picked him up and gave him a pat on the back. 

“Don’t worry about it. We’re friends and it’s important to express things. You’re dismissed for the night Daichi.” Suga said with a gentle smile. 

And with that Daichi left the room towards the barracks for a long night of contemplating the rest of the month that would ensue before Y/N was lost to Suga. 

_______________________________________________________________

“Daichi you need to wake up now.” 

Kuroo slapped him awake with a pillow causing Daichi to shoot up and smack his head on the lower bunk. 

“’s going on?” Daichi mumbled groggily rubbing the spot his head had smacked. 

“I’m not sure but there’s an issue in the castle with Y/N. You have to go NOW.” Kuroo said with a pale look on his normally suave face. 

Upon hearing Y/N’s name, Daichi threw himself out of bed and hastily pulled his uniform on. He was hopping out of the barracks pulling one boot on as he heard the shrieks and violent cries of Y/N echoing from her open window which was at least half a mile away. 

Daichi’s heart kicked into overdrive and he shot off towards the castle on foot. With every rise and fall of his chest his worries for Y/N grew as her anguished sobs rang out through the air. What on Earth had happened???

Finally reaching Y/N’s room he knocked on the door frantically. 

“Y/N are you in there??” He called in a worried tone. 

A resounding shriek gave him an answer and Daichi kicked the door open to see Y/N’s trashed room and a tear-stricken Y/N. 

“HE LEFT DAICHI! SUGA IS GONE!” Y/N wailed throwing herself into her friend. Daichi noticed that Y/N was fully dressed but her makeup was ruined and her hair was a complete mess. Clearly she had been planning on going somewhere with Suga but the plans had changed last minute. 

“What?” Daichi asked absolutely confused. Y/N sobbed into his chest, occasionally hiccupping and emitting sniffles. 

“Suga left me Daichi. He said he didn’t want to get married and left this morning. And everything was going so well! Why did- why did he leave me?!” Y/N cried. Daichi embraced Y/N rubbing her back as she choked on her words. Suddenly she pushed away from him; an angry aura radiating off her as she stalked towards her Fairytale book and opened it up to the Cinderella story. 

“There’s a princess. ANY PRINCESS! Take your pick their all like me. But not exactly because I’m still waiting and they all live happily ever after! I don’t want to wait anymore!” Y/N said ripping the title page of the Cinderella chapter out fo the book. 

Daichi’s heart dropped. Y/N loved that book more than anything in the world why was she destroying it?!

“Y/N stop please-” 

“I’m just as good as these princesses! Let’s get rid of the villains and the vamping! No more perils! No more pitfalls! We don’t live near the ocean so I don’t need a whale!” More and more pages were ripped out of the book and torn to shreds by the angry princess. 

“Am I a monster?! Do I have a curse to be unloved?! It had a good intro but clearly there’s only verses from here on out!” Y/N roared picking up her book and hurling it at the window where it shattered the glass upon contact. Daichi looked in horror at the usually happy and bubbly woman he had come to love destroy everyt

“I’M SO SICK OF ALL THE WAITING! ‘Just wait for him Y/N!’ ‘You’ll get your happy end!’ BUT ALL I’VE BEEN DOING FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE IS WAITING FOR MY PRINCE!” Y/N screamed throwing her balcony door open and storming outside. Daichi followed her quickly racking his brain trying to figure out how to calm her down.

Y/N had thrown herself against the balcony and was sobbing into her arms. 

“Are you even there God?! It’s me Y/N! You know, the princess that you’ve screwed over?!” Y/N howled out to the wind before closing her mouth and looking out into her garden where all her flowers seemed to mock her. Glaring at the offending plants Y/N shot up and towards the flowers

“STUPID FLOWERS! I HA-AHHHH!!!” 

Y/N’s body toppled over the balcony with a loud cry. Daichi surged forward to grab her wrists before she fell completely. 

“Daichi help me please!” Y/N cried terrified tears now streaming down her face. Daichi began to worry as he struggled to pull her up and over the balcony. While he was rather strong, the combined dead weight of a dangling body and several pounds of fabric were not helping him in anyway shape or form. 

“I’m trying Y/N! Please for the love of God hold on!” He warbled before sucking in a deep breath. With a loud groan Daichi pulled Y/N safely onto the balcony falling backwards onto the marble flooring with her snugly in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry Daichi I didn’t mean t-” Y/N was cut off from her apologies by Daichi’s lips on hers. The hesitation that she had for a half-second shattered Daichi’s heart but once he felt the weight of her lips on his he knew she meant it. 

When Daichi pulled back he sat the two of them up and looked deep into Y/N’s glistening e/c orbs. 

“Y/N I love you. Plain and simple, I do. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you and I’ll love you until my dying breath. I’m not a prince. I’m most definitely not royalty. I can’t give you everything that you’re accustomed too but please. Let me ask for your hand in marriage and I will give you all of me.” Daichi begged bringing their foreheads together. 

“I can’t tell you how many times you’ve crossed my mind. The countless nights I’ve lost sleep dreading the day that I’d lose you to a prince. Even if you did get married I’d follow you to protect you. That’s my job. But I’ll never stop loving you.” He finished closing his eyes and waiting for the inevitable push of Y/N’s hands as she yelled for the other guards to save her from him. 

Instead he was blessed with Y/N’s hand intertwining with his with her other hand picking his face up. 

“It’s true. I want a prince and you are not one.” Y/N started. “But you’ve been everything that the fairytale princes were to their princesses. You’ve saved my life like a brave knight would. And right now I think that’s what I’ve wanted my entire life. A knight to protect and love me.” Y/N said placing another kiss on Daichi’s lips and embracing him in a hug. 

“Thank you. For not only being my friend and body guard, but hopefully my husband too. Yes Daichi. I will marry you!” She said happily. This time it was Daichi’s turn to cry as he matched her embrace hugging her tightly. The two of them sat holding each other like it was the last time they ever would. 

Eventually the two of them fell asleep to the sounds of each others heart beats now beating in sync with one another. 

________________________________________________________________

“Sawamura Daichi. The king wishes to speak with you.” 

Daichi looked up from his breakfast to see one of the castle maids looking at him. 

“I’m on my way. Thank you.” Daichi said pulling his coat on and heading towards the castle. It had been almost a year since Y/N had become his secret fiancée and both of them knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone would find out about them and report Daichi to the king. 

It seemed that it had come sooner rather than later.  

Several thought ran through Daichi’s head. First, he’d be stripped of his Knighthood and banished to the Outlands where he’d survive in the woods. Second, he’d never see Y/N again because she would quickly be married to someone she may not even know. Thirdly, despite being banished, the King would send out bounty hunters to kill him anyway. 

On the off chance that this was not the day he’d be banished, there were a million other things that could happen. Daichi could be sent off to fight the war in the East and die before he could marry Y/N. Y/N could be sick. She could be dying. But worst of all she could have told the king herself and wanted him gone. 

His thoughts came to a stop just like his feet at the entrance to the Throne Room. Taking a deep breath, he opened the doors and walked towards where the King was sitting alone. There was no servant in sight not even the King’s advisor. Daichi stopped a good twenty feet and gave a respectable bow.

“Ah Daichi. Come closer.” The King said with a small smile on his face. Daichi slowly stepped closer towards the King. 

“I was summoned your Highness?” Daichi asked pretending to play dumb. The King stood up and beckoned for Daichi to follow. 

“Follow me son. I want to talk to you.” 

There was no malice in his voice, no anger. It was calm and gentle. The voice he was known for whenever he made decisions or met with other royals. 

The two of them walked out towards Y/N’s garden. Absentmindedly the King walked past a patch of Gladiolus flowers. 

“I helped her plant this garden with her mother. It was the last birthday gift that her mother gave to her before she passed away. Even after her mothers passing Y/N continued to care for this garden even going as far as to plant flowers that her step-mother likes just to keep it. She was only truly happy when she was here in the garden. Until you came here Daichi.” 

Daichi looked up from the flowers and towards the King who wore a sad smile on his face and was walking towards another patch of flowers. Pink roses this time.

“When you came here, Y/N’s demeanor changed drastically. Her old personality had come back. My daughter had come back to me. It’s all thanks to you Daichi and I can never repay you for this.” The King explained walking towards another type of flower. The lilacs danced softly in the wind watching Daichi curiously. 

“Y/N deeply loves you. I believe she has for years. Now you are not royalty and if I were to let you marry Y/N our bloodline would no longer be entirely pure. Any heir that she produced would only have half of the aristocratic genes. Our enemies would talk. But I do not care about this anymore. Y/N is the first born heir and it is her right to the throne. If I give you permission to marry her I have to know that you understand that while she is Queen you will only be a prince. That you will love her and only her for the rest of your lives.” 

“I do sire. There has never been another woman who I have loved as deeply as I do Y/N.” Daichi said with a almost uncontainable smile. The King burst out laughing boistrously and pulled Daichi into a crushing hug. 

“I knew it son. And now you’ll be my son-in-law. So go on and find Y/N. You two will be married by her birthday next month.” The King said to Daichi letting him go. Daichi bowed to the King and raced off towards the Library where Y/N would be finishing up her morning studies. The King watched his future son-in-law with a very content smile and turned to face the Lilly of the Valley’s flowers. 

“I think he’ll be a fine prince for our princess, wouldn’t you say my dear?” The King asked. As if Y/N’s mother could answer the flowers swayed in the wind allowing the King a peaceful moment alone. 

_______________________________________________________________

Daichi stood inside the dressing room fiddling with his royal cape. It had been specially made for him today along with his wedding suit. It was finally the day where he would marry Y/N. 

But he was nervous as all hell. 

The royal chapel was packed full of other royals, and their friends. Suga had also been invited after Daichi had found out this entire marriage had most definitely been orchestrated by Suga. When Y/N found out she had socked Suga in the stomach and then kissed his cheeks over and over thanking him for bringing her together with Daichi. 

Of course Kuroo and Bokuto had been given the “day off” to enjoy the festivities with Daichi and that comforted him a little but he was worried about the ceremony himself. In just one month Daichi had been subjected to all sorts of lessons to teach him about the royal way of life. He’d been moved out of the barracks and into the castle to a room that he and Y/N would soon share. 

Kuroo and Bokuto both had used these lessons as an opportunity to tease the hell out of Daichi and both of them personally requested to become the happy couples personal guards. 

Daichi looked at himself in the floor length mirror. He was dressed in a black suit with silver accents and had a dark orange cape attached to his left shoulder. In a glass box on the table next to him sat a simple gold crown with intricately etched branches that all stemmed from a tree on the back of the crown. He wouldn’t wear it until right before Y/N walked into the chapel. There had been some discussion about whether Daichi could marry Y/N without being a prince. The king had put his foot down and simply stated that he would crown Daichi. 

A sharp rap on the door shook Daichi out of his daze and he turned to see both Kuroo and Bokuto waiting for him.

“Hey bachelor man! You ready for the most important moment of your life?” Kuroo asked swinging an arm around his friend’s shoulders. Daichi rolled his eyes and gave himself a once over in the mirror before turning around to face his two friends.

“Ok... I think I’m ready.” Daichi said with a confident smile in place of his previously nervous one. 

The walk down to the Chapel was filled with laughter and joking in order to help alleviate some of Daichi’s stress. But nothing could be done about the stress that was placed on Daichi right before they entered the doors. 

“Hey you aren’t getting cold feet right?” Kuroo asked looking at Daichi who had been holding for several minutes now. 

“No! I’m going in right now.” Daichi snapped as he opened the doors to the sound of trumpets and cheers. Immediately Bokuto and Kuroo dropped the silly act and had become perfect examples of knights and Bowed to Daichi as he walked down the golden carpet towards the King who was waiting for him. 

As Daichi reached the end of the carpet, he knelt down for the King to make him a prince. 

“By the power invested in me, I now raise you from the title of knight to that of Prince. You will hereby be known as Prince Sawamura Daichi of the Miyagi Kingdom. And with this crowning, I now relinquish my daughter to you for her hand in marriage.” The King said placing the ornate crown atop of Daichi’s head and allowing him to stand. 

As soon as Daichi stood the doors opened once more and the wedding fanfare played. Daichi knew he wasn’t allowed to look behind to see Y/N but he was incredibly giddy. 

“Hello Daichi.” 

Y/N’s gentle voice greeted him along with a gloved hand on his shoulder. Daichi turned for the first time to see his bride smiling up at him with a gorgeous dress  that truly accented her features. Her h/c hair was done up in a waterfall braid with her pearl set tiara perfectly aligning her facial features. 

She was stunning. 

“Hello my love.” He whispered taking her hand and leading her up towards the alter. In her hands she held a bouquet of pink tinged bridal roses, baby’s breath, and white calla lilies. 

Bridal roses for everlasting love. Baby’s breath for sincerity. White calla lilies for true love. And one singular tea rose in the middle for remembrance. After all it was her mother which had led her to pick out these flowers. 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the unity between our crown princess Y/N and her prince Sawamura Daichi. Marriage is defined as the unity of...” 

The priest began his speech about the importance of staying together and worshipping each other in sickness and in health. Instead of paying attention to the priest, Daichi was gazing into Y/N’s eyes that were brimming with tears. Daichi used his hand to wipe the tears away making Y/N giggle. 

“And now do you Daichi, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, through the good and bad times, for better or for worse, until death do you part?” The priest asked. Daichi looked from the priest to Y/N and nodded. 

“I do.” 

“And do you Y/N, take Daichi to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, through the good and bad times, for better or for worse, until death do you part?” The priest asked Y/N who was giggling at Daichi. 

“Huh? Oh um -ahem- yes I do.” Y/N cooed grasping Daichi’s hands. The ring bearer brought up the two rings for the couple to exchange. Daichi picked up Y/N’s delicate hand and slipped the sliver ring with the (birthstone) right in the middle. Y/N in turn slipped the silver band onto Daichi’s finger and motioned to the priest whispering something in his ear. 

“The bride wishes to speak.” The priest explained and allowed Y/N to speak.

“Daichi from the moment I met you I knew that you would protect me until my prince appeared. In all the fairytales I’ve read this is a rule and scripture for all royals. Regardless I believed in these stories that you and I read by candlelight. You’re my white knight who saved my life even if you’ve come from a different line of life than I have. But I know today is the day that I will love you for the rest of my life. It starts today.” Y/N mused as she took Daichi’s hands in hers. 

“I love you so much.” Was all Daichi could respond with that roused laughter from the wedding guests. 

“Are there any objections? Speak now or forever hold your peace.” 

It was quiet for a moment before Bokuto and Kuroo began to hoot like an owl and meow like a cat, causing Daichi to smack his face in embarrassment and caused The King and all the subjects to roar in laughter again. Even the ever cold Queen smirked at the antics of the two knights. 

“If there are no real objections I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride” The priest said. Daichi and Y/N brought their lips together for a passionate kiss that was serenaded by the wedding fanfare again. 

Daichi left the chapel a new man, with his princess holding tightly to his arm and a large smile on his face. As the newlyweds climbed into their carriage Daichi brought his face towards Y/N’s and placed his lips on hers once more. 

“I love you so much Y/N.” 

“And I love you Daichi. Now let’s go start the rest of our lives together.” Y/N said cozying up to her husband. “Are you sure you have everything?” 

“Oh wait I have one more thing to do real quick. Can I see your bouquet?” Daichi asked. Y/N looked at him weirdly and watched as Daichi chucked the bouquet at the back of Suga’s head. 

“I OWE YOU SUGA!” He cried out as the crack of the whip sounded through the air and the carriage took off. 

“Daichi those were my flowers!” Y/N cried playfully hitting him on the arm. 

“I’ll plant a million more for you my dear.” 

THE END

PLEASE NOTE:  This is my original work that I posted on my first blog @squiddlie. I am moving all my writing to this blog and there isn’t any plagiarism on this blog. 

[mlqcconfessions]

Would it be possible to do Victor's sister dating Gavin? I wonder how that would turn out???

I guess you guys REALLY like this “MC dating _____as _____’s sister” series

as much as I like writing them

To make things a little bit more interesting, I changed MC’s character to be more like Victor…….run Gavin, RUN

MLQC Headcanon - MC dating Gavin as Victor’s sister

Victor

“Victor, I’m going out today” (his brain starts malfunctioning)

“…with who?”

“Gavin Bai. You’ve met him before. He’s the one that dropped me off yesterday” (Victor’s eyes don’t leave the plate in front of him)

“Okay. Have fun” (he’s clearly not processing these words)

“Thanks.” (are all brothers and sisters this distant?)

You excuse yourself first to get ready, leaving Victor by himself

Gavin….Gavin….hmmm….? (NEVER HEARD OF HIM)

He calls Goldman immediately to do a background check on this Gavin Bai (he doesn’t get paid enough for this)

After finishing the call, the doorbell rings (Victor’s ready to throw hands if it’s Gavin)

“Hello, Mr. Li!” (it’s not Gavin)

“…Kiki? What are you doing here?” (an even more troublesome person has arrived)

“I’m here to do MC’s hair for her appointment today!

“Ah…I see. Well she should be in her room upstairs”

“Thank you! She was so nervous, you know. It being her first date and all”

“Yes, she would be the type to— wait. DATE?” (Kiki stands still for a moment before running up the stairs)

DATE?! (he calls Goldman again to make sure he does a THOROUGH background check on Gavin he doesn’t get paid enough for this)

—————–

“Victor, I’m heading out now! I’ll be back around 8!” 

He hears the door close from the 1st floor office

Ding. (The files sent by Goldman are now open on his computer)

Police officer? Hmm…not bad.

……Loveland High School? (Victor goes to the study to where the bookshelves are)

He opens your yearbook, flipping through the pages until he lands on the upperclassmen section

Gavin Bai…….2 years older, hmm?

He looks at all the pictures you were in (all the clubs, festivals, events, etc)

In all the pictures you were in, Gavin was there (his eyes always directed towards you)

Just then he receives a photo from you, looking as happy as ever alongside Gavin (in a group chat with him, you, and Gavin)

Victor’s a little relieved, knowing that his only sibling is in the right hands

He waits by the door to greet you home (like the caring brother he is)

He sees you two in the distance

You go on your tiptoes to…give Gavin a goodbye kiss (worst mistake ever)

Victor retracts his previous thoughts (you’re TOO young to date right now you’re 22)

Gavin

OH BOY. 

Birdcop is so nervous

He’s SO NERVOUS

He could care less if you’re an heiress or not

He’s just scared that his dates with you will be too boring and not extravagant (you honestly never thought about it that way)

Spends 2 hours in front of the mirror doing his hair (bangs, or no bangs, that is the question well this is how I feel about it)

He texts Minor what he should do on this FIRST date (Minor flipped when he found out who the lucky girl was)

Bro, you ACTUALLY did it! Well, first things first. You need to impress her BROTHER first. 

Why?

Think about it, man! This is why you’re hopeless at love! (Minor gets knocked back by a sudden gust of wind)

Forget it. I’ll manage on my own. (Gavin looks at the time. 1 hour left)

—————–

He’s still so nervous (arrived 20 minutes early)

Noticed some girls who wanted his phone number (he gave them the number to the police station where he worked technically it’s not wrong)

“Gavin!” (his ears perked up at the sound of your voice)

He sees you running towards him, enveloped in a halo of light

Other guys were looking at you, and of course he didn’t like that

He doesn’t know what to do when your arm goes around his (but realizes it’s effective in driving away the pests)

He kisses the back of your hand, this time making YOU blush

He honestly doesn’t remember what happened after that

But he did remember the selfie together (he didn’t know you would send it to a group chat with the 3 of you)

He drops you off at your house, and felt it was good to properly introduce himself to your brother

Ends up avoiding that COMPLETELY after Victor glares at him after your kiss

He hasn’t felt this death aura from anyone else (besides from you after he gets caught with yet another injury)

They’re siblings, alright

MC

You don’t really feel the need to explain every little thing to your brother (including your dates with Gavin)

He wouldn’t be interested, anyways

So you decide to wait until the day of to drop the news

“Victor, I’m going on a date today”

See? He’s not even fazed (does he even care for his little sister?)

“…with who?” (hmm? I guess he is interested)

“Gavin. You’ve met him before. He’s the one that dropped me off yesterday” (That’s a lie, actually. He’s never met Gavin. And this is your first date together)

“Okay. Have fun”

“Thanks.” (you head to your room to get dressed kind of scared of the aftermath of lying to Victor)

Already had your outfit planned out (by asking Minor what Gavin liked)

Had Kiki come over to do your hair (she knocks on your door)

“Oh, Kiki is that you? Come in!”

She enters with a soulless face, as if she’s done something terrible

“Kiki? What’s wrong?”

“I….” (she suddenly hugs you, almost sending you backwards)

“Woah, Kiki?!”

“I ACCIDENTALLY TOLD YOUR BROTHER THAT YOU’RE GOING ON A DATE TODAY” 

You drop the hair brush on the floor (oh no.)

—————–

You go to the meeting place a little earlier than planned (need to surprise him with your beauty)

He’s already there, looking around to spot you (damn. He surprised me with HIS beauty)

He’s getting hit on by other girls (huh, the nerve.)

“Gavin!” (you wave to him with a big smile)

He looks away from the crowd of girls surrounding him, finds you, and promptly leaves the area to go next to you

You wrap your arm around his, quickly shooing away any unwanted pests still lingering around (unaware of his blushing face)

He takes your hand, kisses the back of it, and gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen (it takes everything in you to not kiss him right there)

The date goes by splendidly, neither of you realizing the passing time

You send the photo of you and Gavin to a group chat you made (named it the “Bai Li Squad”

You want to give Gavin a kiss because it was your first date (of course, you didn’t realize Victor was standing by the door)

You later received an hour lecture of “how boyfriends were completely irrelevant to your personal happiness and success”

You removed Victor from the group chat

[christmasgeek2010]

My Girl; Bang Chan One-Shot

Genre: Angst

Synopsis: You start to drown in your college work, and as a result, question your credibility and worth. Luckily, your boyfriend comes home just in time to catch you as you fall and remind you of who you are and what you’re worth.

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, mentions of nudity, established relationship.

A/N: Hello! This is my first work published here, and I’ve debated posting this for a few months, but figured if it gets no traction at least I had the balls to post it. If you have any feedback or want me to write something for you, don’t hesitate to send in an ask, or comment, or even DM me! I hope you enjoy!

~

You had always loved your balcony. Your french door balcony was your release. It was your relief from the world’s problems and your escape from any stress or tension you ever had. You had come onto this balcony when you had fights with your parents or friends, when you needed relaxation when doing homework, when you had a bad day at college or work, or when you found yourself longing for your boyfriend, Chan.

Chan. Christopher Bang. God, you loved Chan. He had asked you out in sophomore year of high school after you two met in middle school, and you two had been a team ever since. You two had the same friend group, watching as people came and went and cried and laughed together for almost ten years now. You two had gone to great lengths for each other, never giving up on each other or your relationship. You never knew how you got lucky to be able to know the man for almost a decade, let alone call him yours for a little over half that time. And he felt the exact same way about you. You were his world, his light, his muse. He admired how you carried yourself, always holding your head high and looking for the positives in any given situation. You always found something good to say, about anyone or anything. Even the most despised teachers on your college campus had been spoken about in a light manner from you. It was incredible how you could do something so easily that not many people can do with ease like you do. Yet, he didn’t see you breaking. 

You hid your bad days from Chan. You trusted him with everything you had in you, but he was the leader of an 8 man group that was currently on a steady incline in fame. His group, Stray Kids, was constantly releasing content, let alone music, and he had a hand in producing almost all of it. Plus, you can’t forget about all the variety shows the group does, the interviews, the music show performances, and not to mention his weekly Vlive show “Chan’s Room” he does on Sundays for Stays that last almost 2 hours sometimes. You went with them every chance you got, as you two were public for a while. JYP himself had come to accept the relationship. Mainly because he saw how much talent and potential Chan had, but he refused to break up with you for his career. You three compromised, and every day after college you go to JYP entertainment and help around as much as possible as your end of the deal. JYP told you a few years ago it was no longer necessary, but you insisted. You knew how much of a risk he took letting Chan date you through his trainee days into debut, and you felt like you owed the man a lot, even if he overworked your boyfriend and his group. You also went in because you got to see the boys often. You had grown a huge soft spot for them all, especially Jisung and Jeongin. 

Your dedication to your end of the deal, however, is the reason you’re on your balcony at 1:48am in the freezing rain. JYP told you to take a few weeks off to focus on your studies as he was sure you were falling behind, and falling behind you were. You had a massive stack of work that was overdue, and another of stuff that’s due soon. You had always been good at your studies and well advanced in education, but even this was overwhelming for you. It’s not like it was hard, it was all rather easily. However, even looking at the stack of work piling into both your laptop and at your desk made you uneasy and lightheaded. You had already eliminated half of the stack within the last 3 days, but it was so much. You wanted to hide from the world and shut it all out, run away from it all. The demons in your head constantly were at war. Convincing you that you weren’t worth Chan or your scholarships, that you weren’t worth the risk taken on you by JYP, that you weren’t worth being so close to such kind and selfless souls as Stray Kids. That you were a failure. That you should’ve been kicked to the curb by your lover long ago and he should be with someone far more better than you. It didn’t help that your boyfriend hadn’t been around for a day or two, having to spend more time than usual on producing for the group and making sure choreography was being made for the comeback that would be announced in a few months.

You leaned against your balcony’s railing, your hair sticking to your face as the flannel, Chan’s flannel, was sticking to your small frame along with the rest of your clothes. You didn’t hear the front door to your apartment open, didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the hallway, didn’t hear the voice calling out for you, didn’t hear the bedroom door open, didn’t realize you had tears cascading down your face until you felt a warm and slightly calloused hand brush against your cheek, wiping away one of many droplets, rain or tear, before two arms wrapped around your body, immediately filling you with a sense of safety, warmth, and peace of mind.

“Why are you out here in the pouring rain, baby, and how long have you even been out here? Your clothes are completely soaked through. Talk to me, my girl.” The second name made you crack a small hint of a smile. You always loved when Chan called you his girl, it reminded you that he was your home, and that you were the luckiest woman in the world. You sniffled, only realizing you had been crying for a while when your nose was stuffed from crying, placing one of your hands gently on Chan’s arms and rubbing soft circles on the skin with your thumb.

“College has just been rough, Channie. That’s all it is. I have it handled.”

“You clearly don’t if you're in the freezing rain unconsciously crying, my love.” Chan tugged you inside, ever so grateful that your bedroom was carpeted as you two walked in soaked. He asked you to go into the bathroom and get undressed for a warm shower, grabbing a pair of panties and one of his shirts for you since he knew how much you loved wearing his clothes when you were upset. You did as he asked, knowing he was tired from work. He walked in and undressed with you, turning on the shower and getting the water to a desirable heat before helping you in, getting in behind you as he grabbed the shampoo and started scrubbing your hair gently. 

“Seriously, Y/N, what’s wrong? You know I won’t judge you, whatever it is.” You sighed and rubbed your arms, still warming up from the cold outside. 

“I’m overwhelmed with college. I’m way more behind in work than I realized, and even though I got through so much work while you were gone, it’s still so much, and that’s without what’s not past due. Looking at all of it makes me feel uneasy, like I’m a failure for having that much backwork. I don’t feel like I deserve you because of it. You work so incredibly hard, for the boys and for us, and here I am struggling to get my shit together like a responsible adult before graduating college this year.” Chan couldn’t help but frown as you told him your honest feelings. He was grateful that you didn’t hide stuff from him often, especially when it got really bad, but he also felt his heart ache at your pain. You were his best friend, his girlfriend, his partner in crime, and dare he say his soulmate, and he had seen you basically grow up. You were his other half. You both had similar work ethics and similar viewpoints in life, which meant you both tore yourselves down when you didn’t succeed how you wanted, and sometimes you both forgot that the other would never love you any less for not jumping over a hurdle with ease. 

“My girl, your struggles will never make me love you any less. You’ve always been my number one supporter, and I will always be yours. Your struggles are what make you human, and what make you who you are. And I love who you are. I still can’t fathom how I’m able to call someone who’s as understanding and patient as you. Anyone else would’ve left as soon as I started working the way I do, but you stayed. You stayed because you know that this is my dream, and you’re willing to live my dream with me. I couldn’t be more proud of how hard you work. You’re a full time college student, work part time at the company doing basically everything, you help me care for the boys, and tend to me when I’ve had a bad day at work or get stressed from being unable to finish songs. You’re truly amazing, and I couldn’t ask for a better person to call mine than you. The boys love you, and I love you a million times over. I could never be ashamed of you, or disappointed in a little bump in the road. You’ll always be my everything, understand?” Chan rinses your hair before turning you around. Hot tears start streaming down your face again, this time mixing with the warm shower instead of the rain. You gently wrap your arms around your sweet boyfriend, squeezing his torso as he can’t help but smile and hold you against him. His fingers comb through your hair gently, knowing that’s your best relaxing tactic. Your breath is shaky as you look up at him, nothing but appreciation and love in your eyes.

“I love you, Chan. I’m so lucky that you’re a part of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words how much you mean to me and how much you’ve influenced me over the years.” Chan’s smile only grows at your words, knowing that you’re going to be okay. Chan’s been your rock for what feels like a lifetime. He’s not perfect, and neither are you. Neither of you expect the other to be perfect. The two of you have always only asked for the other to try, and try you do. You both steady each other, make each other whole. Any one else would see your position, bare bodies embracing the other as a promiscuous moment, but to you two, it’s another moment in your relationship that makes you realize how much you love the other. There will be more, much more for you two to face, but that’s for another day. A day that will end with the both of you hand in hand ready to face whatever the world throws at you once more. A day that will only make Chan more certain that he wants to marry you, have kids with you, and grow old with you. That he wants you by his side when his group makes it even bigger worldwide, when they eventually disband, when he retires from the entertainment industry, when he only writes songs for you as gifts. When he releases his first love song inspired solely by you, when his best friends get married, when his parents are no longer a part of this world. He wants you, only you, forever you.

“I love you too, my girl. I’ll always be the luckiest man in the world, as long as I have you by my side.”

[arabellaflynn]

For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was. 

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any. 

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys. 

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

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[kiwi-stan]

Southern Belle Part 2

Read part 1 here

“Okay,” Eve said, stalling for time as she thought. “Celebrity crush?” 

“Currently?” Harry asked. They were lying on the floor in his living room, both staring up at the ceiling fan and trying to stay as still as possible. It was the beginning of July and the summer days were just getting hotter. Eve had never known that the guest house didn’t have air conditioning, but since she’d been spending the last few weeks sneaking out after dinner to meet Harry, she’d decided that she would try to convince her father to renovate. She had no idea how he managed to sleep in the heat. 

After their night at the pool-or neg-gate as Harry had started calling it-Eve had been on a strict diet that cut out almost any sugar and carbs. She’s lasted about 36 hours before she was banging on Harry’s door and begging him for any sugary snack he had on hand. He’d invited her in and they’d been spending almost every night for the past two weeks hanging out. Eve knew her parents would flip if they knew she was sneaking into a boy’s room late at night, especially since that boy was their gardener, even though what they were doing was strictly platonic. They played twenty questions (with Twinkie as their safe word if a question was too edgy to answer), watched TV and movies (Harry had tried to introduce Eve to baseball but she hadn’t really liked it), listened to music (he considered it a tragedy that she only knew top 40 songs and had made it his mission to introduce her to pop-punk) and sometimes played card games. 

“Yeah. Right now.” Eve said. She waited impatiently for his response. She was waiting to see if he would name someone she somewhat resembled. After the tame cheek kiss that night at the pool, she’d been waiting for Harry to make another move. He hadn’t. Eve had been trying to drop hints that she was into him, but he seemed totally clueless. She’d developed a new tactic, using their games of twenty questions to try to determine if he were into her. 

“Mila Kunis.” Harry said quickly, like he hadn’t even needed to think about it. Eve considered that. They didn’t look much alike. But did that really mean anything, though? She was so distracted she almost missed him throwing the question back at her. “Yours?” 

“Jake Gyllenhaal.” 

“Wanna play again?” Harry asked. That had been her twentieth question. 

Eve sat up enough to glance at the digital clock on the end table. It was nearing two am. She had to be up at six for yoga with her mother and she wanted to be at least somewhat well rested for that. She had no idea how Harry was working all day doing manual labor with long nights like these, though she expected Red Bull had something to do with it. 

“I should probably go.” Even as she said this she pulled another Twizzler from the package lying between them. “I’m going shopping with my mother tomorrow and I’ll need my energy for that.” 

Harry sat up too so he could look her in the eyes. “Shopping for what?” 

“There’s this huge banquet at the end of the summer that we all have to go to. I don’t know if you’ve heard anyone else talk about it.” 

“I think Tim said something about it.” He said, naming the family’s driver. “The Summer Splash?” 

Eve nodded. “Yeah. It’s crazy fancy. We’re going to look for a dress. Or a gown really. It’ll probably have to be altered, which is why we’re going now,” 

“You can’t wear something you already have?”

“You know Queen Steph won’t let me be seen in something I’ve already worn.” Eve couldn’t believe she’d gone 19 years without hearing the nickname the staff used for her mother. Harry had mentioned it to her one night and she’d picked it up too. It was fitting. She sighed and shoved the last of the licorice in her mouth. “I’d much rather do that though. Shopping with her is going to be torture.” 

Harry’s expression softened. He’d overheard two more Montgomery family dinners since that first one, so he knew the put-downs Eve faced from her family were common. He still hadn’t gotten over what he’d heard that first night. “I’m sorry.”

Even got to her feet. “It’s okay. I can handle it. I should go now though.” 

“Come see me tomorrow? I have some cinnamon rolls I’ve been saving for a bad day.” 

Eve smiled. “Of course.” She wanted to say something flirty like “it’s a date” but didn’t. At times like these she cursed her lack of experience around guys. Instead she left the guesthouse and silently slipped back into her room. 

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Eve was already cranky by the time Tim pulled up outside Blossom, her mother’s favorite boutique in the area. She’d woken up to find that her mother had laid out clothes for her like she was five years old and had been even more annoyed when she walked downstairs and found that her outfit was a replica of her mother’s, head-to-toe Lululemon. Her mother had tugged Eve’s hair into a tight ponytail, deeming the braid she’d done herself “too boho”. Eve had rolled her eyes at that, earning herself a lecture that lasted the entire drive to the yoga studio. After an hour of both her mother and the instructor correcting her form, her mother had tugged her into the dressing room (not locker room) and told Eve to put on makeup. 

“Why? Aren’t we just going home?” Eve had asked. 

“No, Evelyn, we’re going dress shopping for the Summer Splash.” 

“Mom, it’s only eight. All the stores in town don’t open for hours.” Eve had pointed out. 

“Audrey is opening early for us. Hurry up. I told her we’d be there at 8:30.” 

Eve wracked her brain as Tim found a parking spot and pulled open the passenger door for her mother. Audrey was one of her mother’s best friends even though both women had volatile personalities and they frequently fought. Eve was trying to remember if she’d heard her mother say anything indicating what kind of ground they were on lately, though she’d been spending so little time around her mother lately she felt like she didn’t really know anything about her mother’s life. As Tim pulled her door open and escorted her out of the car, Eve decided to take the fact that her mother was patronizing Audrey’s store as a good sign. 

“Don’t stare at Audrey’s lips.” Her mother murmured as they approached the store. 

“What?” Eve wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. 

“Don’t stare at Audrey’s lips,” Her mother said a bit louder. “She got them done again and they don’t look good.” 

Eve’s mother tugged the door open, making the bells attached to the handle rattle. Eve was immediately assaulted by the smell of potpourri and the color pink. The last time Eve had been in the store, it had been decorated with white and classy neutrals. Audrey had redecorated and now everything was pink. Eve watched her mother frown as she surveyed the store, already knowing that her mother thought the pink was too juvenile (she’d forced Eve to repaint her pink bedroom to a light blue once she turned twelve, claiming that pink was for little girls). Though Eve figured the decor didn’t really matter. Audrey’s husband was almost as rich as Eve’s father and the store was really a hobby for it. It could operate in the red for years-which now that Eve thought about it, it probably did given that it had limited hours and insanely high prices-and Audrey would be just fine. 

A squeal came from by the register. “Steph!” Audrey came rushing over as fast as she could in her impossibly high heels. “You look as gorgeous as ever.” She continued, embracing Eve’s mother. They did the European kiss on both cheeks that Eve thought was incredibly phony. 

Audrey turned her attention to Eve.  “Evelyn, you look lovely as well.” Eve didn’t feel lovely, but she accepted the compliment anyway and surveyed Audrey so she could return the compliment. Audrey and her mother could be sisters, they shared the same light blond hair, tiny frame, and bright blue eyes. However, Audrey had a tendency to overdo it with her hair, makeup, accessories, and cosmetic procedures (Eve realized that her mother was right and Audrey’s lips were way too big). “Thank you. I love your dress.” She said finally. Audrey’s white lace sundress was the only thing not completely overwhelming about her appearance. Eve’s mother nodded next to her, satisfied with the compliment. 

“Anyway, y’all can come on back. I’ve pulled some things already and I’ve got you set up in a room.” Audrey led them to the dressing rooms along the back wall. Eve bristled. Audrey’s taste was questionable at best. 

Her mother didn’t seem happy either. “I was hoping to look around myself.” Eve noticed there was no mention of her picking out her own dress. Between that and her mother laying out her outfit and styling her hair that morning, she was starting to feel like her mother’s dress up doll. 

“And you can do that too!” Audrey said quickly. “How about you do that while Evelyn starts trying things on?” 

“Alright, but I want to see everything.” Eve’s mother gave her a pointed look before walking off. 

“You’re still a two right?” Audrey asked, pushing Eve into one of the dressing rooms. 

“Yes ma’am.” Thanks to Harry continuing to provide snacks, Eve knew her diet wasn’t working quite as well as her mother had hoped. However, she still hadn’t gone up a dress size, which she knew would probably send her mother into shock. 

“Great. Let me know if you need help getting into anything. I’ll be just outside.” Audrey closed the curtain behind her, leaving Eve alone in the dressing room. Blossom’s dressing rooms were the size of the kitchen in the guesthouse.  A mirror took up the entirety of one wall, like in a dance studio. A rolling clothing rack with several dresses on it was pressed up against another wall. A couch just as nice as the one in the Montgomery family living room was the final piece of furniture in the room. Eve spent a few minutes looking through the dresses on the rack, finding only one that she liked. She decided to save that one for last and started with her least favorite, a white dress with a sweetheart neckline and a skirt full of flowers that looked more like a wedding dress than anything else. 

Eve managed to wiggle into the dress without any help and emerged from the dressing room to find Audrey waiting for her. Audrey gave another high pitched squeal. “Steph! Come see how cute she looks.” 

Eve waited for her mother to make her way back to the dressing room. Her mother frowned the second she saw her. “Evelyn, put your hair up. None of these gowns will look good with a ponytail.” She waited as Eve rushed to put her hair in the best bun she could manage. “That looks like a wedding dress.” Eve cringed at the fact that she and her mother shared an opinion on something. “Try something else.” Her mother went on. 

Eve obediently went into the dressing room and tugged on the next option, a lavender dress that she knew would clash with her hair. A glance in the mirror confirmed this. The look on her mother’s face further confirmed this. “Evelyn, that looks awful with your hair. Try something else.” Eve went back into the dressing room, closing the curtain behind her, but she could still hear her mother talking. “That wouldn’t look so bad if she’d bleach that awful red hair of hers.” Eve moved further away from the curtain. For all the luxury in the store Audrey couldn’t afford real doors? 

Eve tried on the last of the ugly dresses, a green dress with a corset style top that Eve definitely didn’t have the figure to fill out. She didn’t even want to show her mother, but she stepped out of the dressing room again. Her mother’s frown deepened. “Evelyn, you don’t have the body for that dress. I saw one I liked. Let me go get it.” As her mother walked away, Eve entered the dressing room again. She was pulled on the only dress she liked, a simple black dress with a halter neck and a low back. It fit like a glove. Eve spun around in the mirror a few times, loving how she looked and feeling confident. She liked how the low back made her look taller, how the tight fit of the top and the skirt emphasized her figure, and how the black color complimented her hair and eyes. She heard the bells on the door jingle, followed by a sequel from Audrey. 

Eve stepped out of the dressing room to find her mother standing there alone, a blue dress in her hands, her hands gripping the hanger so tight Eve was worried the plastic might snap in her hands. 

Audrey was standing at the entrance, greeting another blonde woman with a double cheek kiss. When Audrey stepped back, Eve realized why her mother was so mad. Karen Walcott, her mother’s main social rival had just entered the store, her daughter Andrea on her heels. Eve felt herself growing tense as well. She and Andrea had never gotten along in high school, and since her mother and Karen had been rivals for years, Eve knew time didn’t exactly heal all wounds. Eve didn’t know the exact origins of the rivalry, only that it had been long and seemed to have no end it sight. They’d probably still be feuding in the nursing home. 

“Stephanie,” Karen began, stepping toward Eve her mother. “Lovely to see you. You look lovely. Black is very slimming.” Eve felt her mother bristle, recognizing the subtle way bored, rich housewives fought. “And Evelyn, you’re looking lovely too. You stayed here for school, isn’t that right?” 

Eve recognized the implication, that she hadn’t been smart enough to get into an out of state school and that her parents couldn’t afford to send her to one. Her mother slid an arm around her, the gesture making Eve jump. It had been forever since her mother touched her with any sort of affection. “You look lovely as well. Though I’m surprised to see you. Audrey assured me I would have the store to myself,” Eve caught the death glare her mother shot Audrey and had a feeling they would soon be on the outs again. “Evelyn is at Barnard actually. How about Andy?” She continued, using the nickname she was well aware that no one had used for Andrea since she was about six. 

Andrea smiled sweetly. “I go by Andrea now ma’am. And I’m at Bryn Mawr.” 

“4.0.” Karen jumped in. “You aren’t worried about Evelyn all alone in that big city?” 

Eve felt her mother’s manicured fingernails dig into her shoulder and knew she was mad she couldn’t throw Eve’s academic achievements back. Eve wanted to squirm to get away but knew her mother would be livid. “Not at all. She’s very responsible.” 

“I felt very safe, Mrs. Walcott.” Eve added. 

“Is that your dress for the Summer Splash?” Andrea asked. “It’s great you have the confidence for something like that with your body.” 

A comment like that from her mother stung, but Eve could handle it, like a bee sting. A comment like that from someone else, someone her own age, felt worse, like being attacked by a swarm of killer bees. Her mother looked over at her for the first time. “You’re right, Andy. This dress won’t work for Evelyn. She gained some weight at school and hasn’t lost it yet.” 

“Really? Andrea is the exact same size as when she left.” Karen mused. 

It was on the tip of Evelyn’s tongue to tell her that Andrea had almost gained a lot of weight this year thanks to a pregnancy scare with her high school boyfriend toward the end of senior year, but she was too shocked to do so. As bad as she could be in private, her mother was usually nicer to her in public. Being around other people was like wearing a suit of armor. She had no idea why this interaction was bringing out this side of her mother. 

Eve’s mother said something about how that had best keep shopping, took her wrist, and tugged her away. Hard. “Try this on and let’s go. I’m going to kill Audrey.” She said, shoving the blue dress into Eve’s hands. 

“But mom, I think-” 

“Don’t argue.” Her mother pushed her none too gently into the fitting room. 

With a last longing look at herself in the black dress, Eve took it off and pulled the blue dress instead. She hated it instantly. There was no real shape to it at all, the top resembling a mumu and the bottom resembling the poofy prom dress that she’d hated but had also been forced on her by her mother. Her mother really thought she needed to be hidden away like this? 

Knowing her mother expected to see her in the dress, she emerged from the dressing room. Her mother smiled for the first time all day. “Wonderful! We’ll take it.” She directed the last part of the sentence toward Audrey, though she didn’t make eye contact. 

“But mom-” 

“Don’t try to argue with me.” It was quiet, a warning. 

“You do look darling.” Another voice said. Eve turned to see Karen waiting outside the next fitting room. Though there were six, Audrey had set the two girls up in adjoining rooms. Her mother was going to be furious with Audrey. “Just like you did for prom.” Eve noticed the backhanded compliment, but her mother didn’t seem to. 

The curtain to the other dressing room flew open and Andrea emerged, looking stunning in a fitted white dress not unlike Eve’s favorite black look. Karen immediately started fussing over her, heaping more compliments on her in two minutes than Eve had heard from her mother in her entire life. 

“Go change. I’ll go pay. Then we can get out of here. We’ll go somewhere else to look for your dress for the Christmas banquet.” Her mother raised her voice on those last words so Audrey would be sure to here. “And we’re going somewhere else for alterations. Or Joyce could to them.” 

Eve obediently headed for the dressing room with her self-esteem at an all time low. Her mother had insulted her in front of her old high school enemy. She was buying her a hideous dress after rudely rejecting all other options. Outside, she could still hear Karen complimenting Andrea. Eve finally realized why she’d never really liked Andrea in high school. Though she’d been on top of the social ladder, Eve had felt horribly insecure the whole time. Andrea had walked with a practiced confidence that Eve now knew came from having supportive parents. It also was why Harry seemed so sure of himself. Thinking about Harry reminded Eve that he hadn’t tried to kiss her yet and made her feel even worse. It seemed like she would never be good enough for everyone. Eve quickly tugged the dress off and put her workout clothes on, wanting to get home as quickly as possible so she could cry these feelings out in private. 

She carried the dress in her left hand, using it to block her view of Karen and Andrea as she made her way to the register where her mother was finishing paying, still not making eye contact with Audrey. Her mother signed the receipt, grabbed the bowl of complementary expensive mints by the register, and dumped the entire thing into her purse. Eve knew that Audrey could easily afford more mints so that wasn’t really a huge loss, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. She took Eve’s wrist in a viselike grip and guided her toward the Range Rover where Tim was waiting. Once there were inside with the doors locked and Tim was pulling out of the parking lot, she exploded. 

“I am going to kill Audrey. Really. I know I say this every time but I’m not speaking to her again and she’s not getting anymore of my business…” Eve zoned out as her mother ranted on about Audrey, only tuning back in when she heard her name. “And, Evelyn, I’ve never been so humiliated in my life. She glides in looking so perfect with Andrea looking like a doll and you look like something the cat dragged it.” Eve wanted to point out that it was her mother’s idea to go straight from yoga to shopping, but didn’t. She didn’t have the energy to fight back. “And Andrea’s doing so well at Bryn Mawr and I can’t even say anything about your academic accomplishments back. I just wish you were more like her sometimes.” 

With that final blow to her self-esteem, Eve felt tears welling up. Fortunately, she’d gotten very good at hiding them over the last few years and stared out the window as Tim sped through the last few blocks to the house as her mother ranted on about Andrea’s perfect hair and perfect body. As soon as Tim pulled into the driveway, Eve ran into the house, up the stairs, and into her room, slamming the door behind her. She knew running away like that would earn her a lecture later, but she didn’t care. The tears started and she threw herself down on the bed, hoping her mother was either still downstairs or better yet out of the house so she couldn’t hear. Under no circumstances could her mother hear or see her crying. 

Eve’s sobs were so loud she almost didn’t hear the rock hit the window. She ignored it. She knew it was Harry and the guy who wasn’t into her and who had been indirectly responsible for her breakdown was the last person she wanted to see right now. Another rock hit the window. Then another. Then another, all in quick succession. Eve wiped her nose on her pillow case and got up, intending to tell him to beat it. 

The second she pushed the window open, Harry was looking up at her with concern. “Are you okay?” He asked before she could even open her mouth. “Tim told me what happened and said you seemed really upset. He took your mother to the spa for an emergency massage. We’re alone if you want to talk.” 

“Harry, I-” She stopped herself before she could say she wanted to be alone. It was sweet of him to come check in on her, and he was the only person all day who’d shown that he cared about her feelings. Talking to someone did sound kind of nice. “I’m coming down. Meet me in the guesthouse.” 

Eve shoved flip flops on her feet and made her way downstairs. Joyce, who was preparing lunch, gave her a sympathetic look. Apparently family gossip traveled fast among the staff. Eve made her way into the backyard and sulked toward the guesthouse. She knocked on the door five times, the signal she and Harry had come up with so he’d know it was her. He pulled the door open immediately. 

Once Eve was inside, he led her toward the couch. “What happened?” He asked. His concern set Eve off crying again, she hid her face in her hands, not wanting anyone to see her cry. Her parents had taught her from a young age not to show weakness and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d openly cried in front of anyone other than her parents. Harry gently pried her hands away from her face and pulled her in so she her face was resting on his shoulder instead. He was sweaty and smelled like fertilizer, but she didn’t care, Eve was just grateful to have a warm body to cry against. He silently rubbed her back as she continued to cry. 

Once she’d cried herself out, Harry asked again what had happened and Eve could finally detail the events of the morning. Harry had let go of her but was still holding one of her hands as she talked. She watched as his eyes widened at certain points in the story. She finally got to the end of the story and he was quiet for a few moments, seemingly speechless. “Eve, I’m so so sorry.” He said finally. 

Eve sighed. “I don’t know why I’m crying. Usually I can handle it.” 

“I hate when you say that. You shouldn’t have to.” He fixed his gaze on her. “Really. You shouldn’t.” 

Eve ignored him. It seemed hard to convince herself of that when almost all she heard was the opposite. “I think it feels worse this time because she told me she wished I was more like Andrea. She was so awful to me when we were in high school. I wouldn’t want to be anything like her. And the fact that she was insulting me in public. That never happens. I work really hard to keep up the perfect family facade and that’s all ruined now. Plus I was already feeling bad about you so-” She stopped short when she realized what she’d said. She’d been on a roll with her ranting, the last part had popped out before she could stop it. 

She hoped that he hadn’t been paying attention, something that she’d noticed was all too frequent with most guys. Unfortunately, he was looking at her with enough concern to let her know that he’d heard. “Why would you be feeling bad about me?” He asked. 

“No reason.” She said firmly. She hadn’t been raised to talk about her feelings. Her parents didn’t do that. The words ‘I love you’ were infrequent between them. Eve hadn’t cried in front of her parents since getting cut from the sixth grade cheer team, which had been followed by a long lecture from her mother about not crying in front of people and private lessons from an instructor hired by her father to ensure that she would make the team next year. This was foreign to her. “Thanks for listening, but I know you have to get back to work.” She pulled her hand away from Harry’s and stood up.

He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her down again. “Eve, I know we didn’t exactly start off on the right foot but I thought we were good now. Did I do something wrong?” 

Her nights with Harry had been really the only positive to her summer. Their games were the most fun she’d had since coming home and he was really the only person who could make her laugh these days. She couldn’t let him think there was something wrong with him. “It’s just....I don’t have a lot of experience with guys so I could be wrong but that first night at the pool you were complimenting me and I kind of thought you were flirting. But then that stopped so I started thinking there was something wrong with me to me you not want to flirt anymore.” 

Harry stared at her blankly. “You really think that?” He took her hand again. “Eve, I thought you didn’t like me like that. Then I started thinking about it and I realized I’m not the kind of guy your parents would want for you. So it made sense that you would be blowing me off. I didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want so I just stopped.” He hesitated. “You liked it.” 

“I liked it. I liked you since that first night out at the pool. No one’s ever looked after me like that. All the nights we’ve spent together have just been me falling for you more.” 

“I liked you when I first saw you. I thought you were pretty, as you know,” Eve smiled at the reference to their awkward first meeting. “And I was annoyed you were trying to tell me how to do my job, yes. But you walked out to yell at me and I thought ‘Here’s a strong, confident girl who isn’t afraid to stand up for herself’. Then during the dinner I realized I’d been wrong, but it didn’t change how I felt. I wanted to help you, to bring the girl from that morning back.” As he spoke he’d been moving closer to her. He slid his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, keeping eye contact and watching for any sign of discomfort. “Good?” He asked. Eve nodded. One of his hands cupped her cheek. “Can I kiss you?” They’d been talking long enough that she seemed calm, she’d been sobbing less than an hour ago and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. He waited until she nodded again to kiss her. 

Eve had been kissed before. She’d had her first kiss at her first boy-girl party back in the sixth grade. She’d had a few boyfriends back in high school, and she’d been kissed good night by almost every boy who had taken her to a dance or party. But it had never been like this. This was the electricity, the butterflies, everything a kiss was supposed to be. It was also harder and faster than she’d ever been kissed before. Every boy she’d ever dated had been raised like her, to believe the public displays of affection were tacky and that even being overly affectionate in private was frowned upon. Harry was holding her tight, pulling her body close to his as the kiss deepened. As amazing as it was, Eve’s mind started to wander, wondering what would happen if her parents knew she was playing tonsil hockey with the gardener. 

As if reading her thoughts, Harry pulled away. “Eve, your parents-” He started. 

She cut him off. “Do you really think I care what my parents think?” As she said it, she realized it was true. She wanted to be with Harry. Her parents be damned. He smiled, pulling her in for another kiss. 

[branlovestowrite]

Complicating Factors: Chapter 1

This is my work in progress fic, which I have only been posting on FanFiction.Net. After 12 chapters, my muse has fizzled out. I hope by revising & reposting this, I can get inspired again. Your comments and suggestions (chill vibes only!) are welcome and encouraged!

Complicating Factors 

Rating: M for language and smut in later chapters

Summary: Emma Swan is a single mother trying to contact her ex and father of her child, Neal Cassidy. While she expected some awkwardness when meeting Neal's mother, Milah Gold, she never expected the undeniable attraction she feels toward Milah's younger boyfriend, Killian Jones. No Magic, Modern AU. Captain Swan.

"Swan!" Emma jumped when she heard her friend Mu call out her name. She had been lost in thought as she sat at her desk, having a slow day. She had started working at Grumpy's Bail Bonds nearly two years ago, and spent most of her time doing administrative work: helping with contracts, filing, and managing the books. Working at a bail bonds agency had a lot less excitement than what was portrayed on TV.

'Mu' was short for Mulan, but she hated using her full name, thanks to her Disney counterpart. Mu liked to remind everyone that she was born a full 8 years before that movie came out and was named after the legendary Chinese warrior, not a Disney Princess. The woman was a few years older than Emma, her features reflecting her Chinese heritage, and enhanced by her purple hair and tattoos. Mu's short stature did nothing to reduce the intimidating air she gave off as she leveled her gaze at Emma now.

"I figured you were wearing earbuds by the way you ignored me," Mu said.

"Sorry," Emma replied. "I guess I got lost in thought. I was thinking about how dull this job is compared to what we see on TV shows."

"Well, that's because you haven't been out with me to chase a skip yet. But that's all about to change. You have a date tonight."

"What?" Emma asked, confused.

"This one likes hook ups. His history showed he likes blondes, so I put your pic up on Tinder. He wants to meet you tonight."

"You used my picture as bait?!"

"Relax!" Mu said. "I'll be there the whole time. You only have to go in and keep him occupied. I'll come up and cuff him from behind. Do you have anything slutty to wear?"

Emma was flabbergasted. "I don't know about this, Mu."

"Come on Emma! You need to learn how to do this sooner or later. The payout is way better than desk duty. I'll split tonight's take with you 50/50 if that will make you feel better."

Emma was uneasy with this plan, but Mu was right that she would need to learn this sooner or later. It had been hard to find a decent-paying job after her stint in jail, and she needed to start picking up skips if she ever hoped to have enough money to give her four-year-old son, Henry, the life she felt he deserved. She took a deep breath and said "okay."

"Great!" Mu said. "Do you need me to see if Aurora can watch Henry?" Aurora was Mu's girlfriend. They met in college, finding an immediate connection through their Princess-style names.

"Maybe," Emma replied. "Let me see if Regina can get him first. He's already got things over there and he and Roland are like brothers."

Emma's time in jail came after she was arrested for cocaine possession. She and her boyfriend at the time, Neal, had never done anything more extreme than some underage drinking and pot smoking, and even those cases were very rare. Emma hated the feeling of being out of control, and tended to stay away from drugs for that reason alone. She had no idea that Neal was dealing. Unknown to her, he'd hidden some of his stash inside her suitcase. He disappeared two days before the cops came to search the apartment. After their search, they'd asked Emma to identify if the suitcase was hers, and she stupidly did. They arrested her and pumped her for information about the supplier. Though she didn't know anything, she was sentenced to two years with credit for time served. She'd learned of her pregnancy shortly after her arrest. Unable to contact Neal, and having no family to speak of at the time, she'd had no choice but to let her son go into the foster system until she could finish her sentence. She was extremely reluctant for her son to be a foster child, remembering her own bad experiences, and she begged the Social Worker to find a good situation for him. He'd been placed with Regina, and lived the first two years of his life with her, until Emma was released, able to get a job, and set up a stable home.

After being reunited with her son, Emma realized she had no help. Regina offered to step in for Henry's sake. Regina was…prickly, to put it lightly, but she did truly love Henry. She and Emma were slowly starting to build a good relationship. It helped that Regina had recently married Rob, a man she met when Henry and Rob's son, Roland, were in daycare together. Rob was a widower whose wife died in childbirth. He and Regina began dating when the kids were a little older than two, and just married in a small ceremony about 6 months ago. Emma liked Rob, and though they were only a little more than 10 years older than her, in their mid-30s, Emma looked up to Regina and Rob as her surrogate parents.

Henry and Roland were very close in age and greatly enjoyed each other's company. They still attended the same daycare and had playdates nearly every weekend. It was not uncommon for Henry to spend the night at Regina's, though Emma usually did nothing with those free nights but sit around her small apartment and binge watch shows on Netflix.

She picked up the phone to call Regina and explained the situation. Regina said she was happy to help, and offered to let Henry sleep at her house and drop him off at daycare in the morning. Emma was grateful and said she would call to talk to Henry before the boys' bedtime.

With that out of the way, she returned to the situation of what to wear on her date. She didn't have anything slutty to wear, so Mu decided they needed to go shopping.

"I don't really have the money for a dress," Emma said.

"No worries," Mu replied. "I'll put it on my credit card. I'd consider this a work-related expense."

Emma knew better than to protest. She figured that whatever dress she got would definitely not be worn again unless they had another job like this one, so it was justified as work-related expense.

A few hours later, Emma stood in the back of the office, wearing a skin tight pink dress and black heels that were higher than any she'd worn before. In addition to buying the dress and shoes, Mu had dragged her to a salon for a blowout, which left her long hair hanging in soft waves down her shoulders. They'd finished the transformation by Mu dragging her to an empty office that served as a break room, saying it had the best lighting, in order to apply makeup. Emma had never worn this much makeup in her life. Her green eyes were rimmed with black liner in a cat eye shape that was just thin enough to not be garish. Her lips were accentuated with a soft pink color that emphasized their shape and made her face glow. As she looked in the mirror Mu held up, Emma couldn't help but feel pretty.

"Hot," Mu said. "I'd bang you if I were single."

Emma blushed involuntarily. "Thanks for the compliment," she said with sarcasm.

"Remind me when we get there to take a few pictures of you before we catch the guy. It will be useful if we need to pull this Tinder sting again."

They headed out to Emma's car, an old, yellow VW Beetle and the only thing Neal knowingly ever gave her. She was surprised she got to keep it once she was released from jail. She and Neal met when she was attempting to steal the Bug, which he'd already stolen. He must have gotten a clean VIN for the car, because when she got out, the keys were returned to her. Despite the bad memories from Neal, Emma loved this car. It probably wasn't the best family car, but it was reliable and had been a huge help when she was trying to rebuild her life.

Once at the restaurant, Mu and Emma reviewed the plan one final time and headed inside. Mu wore a beanie over her purple hair, and kept her distance several paces behind Emma. Emma spotted her target at the bar and walked over to him.

"Hi," she said, putting on her most charming smile. "Are you Jack?"

"Yes," he replied, returning her smile. "You must be Emma. I have to say, I'm somewhat relieved."

"What?" she said demurely. "You thought I lied on the app?"

"Well, truth be told, your profile pic doesn't do you justice."

She put her hand on his arm and leaned in a bit closer. "Same to you."

He winked at her, and Emma felt a rush of adrenaline. This was actually kind of fun. She continued to talk with Jack while they ordered drinks. The plan was for her to maneuver him to a secluded corner table that Mu picked when she scouted out the place, but Jack was proving resistant to moving from the bar. He seemed to want to show Emma off to the other men there, which made her want to scoff in disgust.

When Jack turned away to order more drinks, she let her eyes wander around. They landed on a man across the bar who was almost too good looking to be real. He had dark hair and lightly tanned skin. A scar was on his right cheek, just above the dusting of a copper-tinted beard along his jaw. Even in the dim lighting, she could see that his eyes were a brilliant blue. Though he was sitting, she could tell he was tall and muscular, and his body language exuded confidence. He met her eyes and held her gaze, raising his right eyebrow in a curious gesture. She had to stop herself from responding with a smile, remembering that she was supposed to be here with Jack. Tearing her eyes from the delicious-looking man, she refocused on Jack, who thankfully had not noticed her distraction.

Eventually she got Jack into the corner, and Mu came up and cuffed him, just as they planned. Mu told Emma that it would be better if she took Jack to the police station in the Bug and then came back for her. Emma agreed and wandered over to the bar. She was perusing the menu for something to eat when she felt someone walk up behind her.

"That was not how I expected your evening to end, love."

A shiver ran down her spine and she turned to see Captain Delicious. In addition to his amazing looks, he had one of the sexiest accents she'd ever heard. She tried her best to school her features and not give away her attraction.

"Well," she began, "I like defying expectations."

He smiled, and his whole face lit up. He gestured to the empty stool next to her. "May I?" She inclined her head and he sat down.

"So," he said, "were you in on that performance?"

"Yes. I work with the woman who took him away. She's my friend and she's training me."

"You work as a bail bondsman?"

"Bondsperson," she corrected. "It’s not official yet. Mu just started teaching me how to catch skips. Most of my days are spent at the office doing admin work."

"I see. Could you tell me your name? Or would that blow your cover?"

She smiled. "Emma. Emma Swan."

He extended his hand and she took it. As they shook hands he said, "Killian Jones, at your service."

"It's nice to meet you, Killian."

"And you, Emma."

"So, Killian, what do you do to earn a living?"

"I'm a professor. I teach History at Storybrooke U."

"Interesting," she said, dragging the word out. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Well, in my younger days, I was in the Royal Navy. But I never saw myself as a career soldier, so when my time was up, I got out. I spent some time traveling with my brother, and we went diving on shipwrecks. I started a blog about our travels, which turned into a book deal. Then I took the money from that, went back to school, and many, many years later, ended up with my PhD in History. My specialty is Maritime History, but I mostly teach World History now."

"A PhD? So you're actually Dr. Jones?"

He laughed. "Only to my students."

Their conversation continued, and Emma found herself truly enjoying the exchange. All too soon they were interrupted by Killian's phone ringing. He looked at the screen, frowned, and silenced the ringer.

"Apologies, love. I need to make my exit. I unfortunately need to go have an unpleasant conversation."

"Is everything alright?"

"Nothing dire. I just need to go talk to my sometimes girlfriend. She's been a bit hot and cold lately."

Emma's heart sank a little. Of course a gorgeous guy like him would have a girlfriend. She put on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she extended her hand and said "It was really nice meeting you, Killian."

"You too, Emma. I hope I can see you again. Do you come to this bar often?"

She shook her head from side to side. "This is my first time here."

He fished out his wallet and placed one of his business cards on the bar in front of hers. "Well, if I can ever do anything for you, please reach out to me."

"Thanks," she said, unable to hide her disappointment at his departure. He put a hand on her shoulder and winked at her. Even that innocent touch was enough to fan the flame inside. He seemed to realize this, smirking as he walked away without another word. His arrogance helped her move beyond her attraction, and she scoffed out loud.

She put his card in her purse, finished her drink, and closed out her tab. When she stood to leave, Mu was there with a happy look on her face.

"All done!" she said. "Leroy will get you your cut tomorrow. Let's head back to the office so I can get my car. I need a hot shower."

"Sounds great," Emma said, following her friend out of the bar.

The next day started well, with Emma collecting her payout and finding herself $500 richer. She was tempted to spend it all on something frivolous, but she decided it would be better to save it. Nearly all of it went to her savings account, but she did set aside $50 to take Henry to do something fun that weekend.

After that she quickly finished the paperwork she had waiting, and gave a client a ride to court. When she got back it was lunch time and she was out of things to do. Mu wa in, so Emma decided to work on her personal project: trying to track down Neal.

Emma would be perfectly happy if she never saw Neal again, but she knew that wasn't fair to Henry. He was starting to ask questions about his father. Emma had considered lying and saving her son some pain, but Regina counseled her against it. After considering Regina's advice, Emma had told Henry that she didn't know where his father was, but that she would do everything she could to find him so they could meet.

The trouble was, Neal Cassidy was hard to find. There was no record of him in Boston. It was a somewhat common name, but every lead she tracked down was a bust. After a while, she started to lose hope. Luckily, her friend David, a police detective, offered his services to help.

Emma met David through his wife, Mary Margaret, a teacher at Henry's daycare. Mary Margaret was quite possibly the most upbeat person Emma had ever met, but she was so genuine that you couldn't help but like her. David was not quite as chipper as his wife, but still annoyingly positive. They were good people, and Emma was happy to have their help. She hadn't heard from him lately, but still felt it couldn't hurt to call.

"David Nolan," he answered when she called his cell.

"Have you still not saved my number in your phone, Dave? Or are you just messing with me?"

"Nope, still haven't saved it. I like the mystery of not knowing who's calling me."

"You're weird," Emma replied.

"I'm glad you called. I was meaning to call you. I got a lead on your project."

"You did?" Emma was cautious. She'd run into so many dead ends in this search.

"Yeah. I came across some arrest records from about 15 years ago. A kid gave the name Neal Cassidy at arrest, but his real name was Neal Gold."

"Of course!" She exclaimed. "He gave me a fake name. I'll add that to the list of lies he told me."

“Well, the trail runs cold there, but he was picked up by a woman named Milah Gold. She was listed as his mother."

"Milah Gold...I'll look her up. Maybe I can find her and get to Neal that way. Thanks Dave!"

"Happy to help. Oh, and Mary Margaret mentioned having you and Henry over for dinner Friday night. You in?"

"Sure. I'll let her know when I pick up Henry this afternoon."

"Great. See you then, Emma."

Emma hung up feeling refreshed. She began searching for more information about Milah Gold, and the search was immediately fruitful. Milah owned a small boutique in a trendy part of town that sold vintage clothes. Emma decided to pay the boutique a visit that afternoon, before she lost her nerve.

She parked a few blocks down from the boutique, in the first open spot she found. Taking a deep breath, she began to walk to the store. Unfortunately, she wasn't paying attention where she was going and ran right into a man carrying two cups of coffee, which were spilled all over her white shirt.

"Fuck!" She cried out. The coffee wasn't too hot, thankfully, but it stained her shirt and her bra was now clearly visible under the wet fabric. She looked up, ready to chew out the offender, when she recognized his blue eyes.

"Emma?" He asked before she could say anything.

"Killian...hi," she replied, giving him an awkward smile.

"I didn't expect to see you here."

"I could say the same."

"I'm here to-" he started, but was interrupted by the shop door opening and a stunningly beautiful woman with flowing brown hair stepping out. She was taller than Emma, and looked to be somewhere in her 40's. 

"Killian?" The brunette asked. "Is everything alright?"

"Milah," he replied. "I'm afraid there was a bit of a mishap with our coffees." He pointed to Emma.

"Oh no!" Milah replied, taking in Emma's soaked shirt. "Come inside dear. I am sure I can find you something to replace the shirt my boyfriend so haphazardly ruined."

It took Emma a moment to connect the dots. "Milah?" She asked. "Milah Gold?"

Milah stopped and stared at Emma. "Yes...and you are…?" Her tone was wary, but not unkind.

Killian stepped in. "This is Emma Swan."

"You know each other?" Milah asked. "Are you one of Killian's students?"

"Um...no," began Emma. She remembered Killian mentioning there was some tension with his girlfriend, and she chose to take his lead on this.

"Emma and I met the other night at Tony's. She had some trouble with her date."

Milah smiled, but there was definitely some jealousy there. "Always the gentleman."

Milah pulled Emma inside and found a shirt for her. She led the younger woman to the changing room and Emma gratefully replaced her shirt with the much nicer sweater. She tried to pay Milah for the item, but Milah refused, saying she would put it on Killian's tab.

"So," she said after Emma was cleaned up. "What brings you here?"

Emma sucked in her breath. This was awkward, but she would not back down. She hated disappointing her son.

"Do you have a son, Neal?"

"Yes…" Milah said.

"He and I used to date. I haven't heard from him in almost five years, but I really need to talk to him."

"Why?"

"Well, you see, he and I have a son together. Neal doesn't know about Henry. I want my son to have the chance to meet his father."

"Neal has a son?" Milah asked. "You mean to tell me that I'm a grandmother?"

"It would appear so," Emma responded. She took out her phone and showed Milah a picture of Henry.

"Oh," Milah replied. "He looks just like Neal did as a boy."

"Do you know where I can find Neal?"

"I'm sorry, no. I haven't spoken to my son in ten years. We're not on the best terms. Maybe Robert can help.”

"Robert?"

"My ex-husband." Milah replied. "He's a lawyer, but he also teaches at Storybrooke U."

"With Killian?"

"Different department, love," Killian chimed in. "He teaches contract law."

Milah seemed to have forgotten Killian was there. She stepped closer to her boyfriend and looped her arm with his in a clearly possessive gesture.

"I don't like talking to my ex, but I agree that Neal should know he has a child. I'll reach out to Robert. Could you come by again on Saturday, maybe around 10? I should have an answer then. And maybe you could bring my grandson? I'd love to meet him."

Emma was unsure, but decided to continue on this path. Milah was obviously insecure about her relationship, but she figured it couldn't hurt for Henry to get to know another family member.

"Okay," she said. "We can do that."

"Great!" Milah said. She picked up a business card from the holder by the register and circled her cell phone number. "Call me if anything changes. I can't wait to meet Henry!"

Despite Milah's territorial behavior, Emma could see she was truly was excited about meeting Henry. She gave Milah a warm smile and said goodbye. Just then a customer came through the door, carrying a box of clothes. Milah indicated this was a client who was selling some pieces, and asked Killian if he would go get new coffees for them. They gave each other a chaste kiss and Killian followed Emma out the door.

Killian and Emma stood awkwardly looking at one another, just outside the store's entrance. He began nervously scratching behind his ear before saying "she's a good woman, Milah is. She's had a hard go of it, but she's got a good heart."

"Good to know," Emma said. Even now she couldn't shake the attraction she felt toward this man. He now had his hands in his pockets, the muscles of his forearms flexing as they peeked out from his rolled up shirt sleeves. She caught herself staring a moment too late, and looked up to see him with that damn eyebrow cocked up again.

"I have to go," she said as she felt her cheeks turn crimson. "See you around Killian."

"You too, Swan."

Emma got in her car and berated herself. What was she doing? This man was dating a woman she'd just learned was her son's grandma. Was she really lusting after a man who was, for all intents and purposes, Henry's step-grandfather?

[worksofphiction]

Hi! For the request thing, can you please write a really angsty hurt comfort sick fic with a happy ending? Maybe friends to lovers. Preferable if Phil is the one going through most of the hurt and being comforted but doesn't necessarily have to focus on one person. Either this or a Hogwarts au with insecure but talented Hufflepuff Phil and very kind and loving Slytherin Dan?

Itching with Jealousy (The Chicken Pox Fic)

Read on Ao3

Summary: Dan and Phil go to LA to spend some time with their good friend Anthony. But what happens when Phil’s bad luck gets him sick and he has to listen to the love of his life fall for another guy?Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, SmutWord Count: 13,840Reading Time: 00:51:07Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

LA was hotter than England, and Phil was not having it. His fringe was sticking to his forehead and he was trying to keep up with Dan who was uncharacteristically speed walking down the sidewalk. It was the day after Vidcon ended and Dan had to be exhausted. Phil was. Phil wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but he was hustling and Phil was working hard to follow.

“Come on, Phil! We don’t have all day!” Dan insisted, turning to find his friend a couple paces back.

“No, Dan, that’s the point. We literally do have all day. We’re spending the night, remember?” Phil answered, surprised that his claim actually worked. Dan slowed down the slightest bit and lined his pace up with his best friend’s. “Why are you in such a hurry anyways?”

They were headed to their good friend Anthony’s apartment where they would be spending the night and Dan would be helping film a collab. Anthony had called weeks ago and Dan had known about this film collab ever since. He hadn’t told Phil much about it and usually, that meant that it wasn’t anything special. But today Dan was walking faster and rushing his friend along, which was strange behavior for the brown haired one.

“I just don’t want to keep him waiting,” Dan admitted, shoving his hands into his tight pockets as he walked at a normal pace. They were only a couple blocks away now and Dan looked to be calming down.

Usually, the internet pegged Dan for the heart eyes and the hopeless love for his friend but oh how Phil wished it were true. Secretly, Lester had the love eyes of a dove and he tried his hardest to hide it. Dan was his everything. When he waltzed into Phil’s life, everything changed. He loved Dan and in turn, learned to love himself. Being 22 with no real job or direction, Phil had his life in tangles. Meeting someone like Dan, who was insecure himself, helped him realize that his life wasn’t all that bad. That things were okay if he just chose to see them that way. He fell hopelessly and hard for the brown eyed boy, which in turn, helped things fall into place.

It’s hard to remember a time before he was in love with Dan, but he remembers quite clearly the day that he realized it. They were spending a week at Phil’s house shortly after they first met in person and Dan was lying next to him in bed after playing a couple intense games of Mario Kart. Phil looked over and saw Dan’s beautiful smile and he promised never to let this boy go. The happiness was radiating off the younger boy’s body like some sort of drug. Phil could catch a smile from only a glance which Phil had never experienced before. If Phil lost the only thing he loved, he would never forgive himself.

Now 8 years later, Phil Lester still hadn’t let go. But he didn’t say a thing or admit to his crush either. He was too afraid to take the risk. Sometimes Dan would get close to him and snuggle up against Phil on the sofa - as friends do? - and Phil would get an inkling that perhaps the other boy felt a certain way about him as well. But shortly after, if he mustered the courage the test out that conversation, Dan would do something that suggested he might not feel the way Phil originally thought. Phil’s anxiety almost always beat him to the punch and he hated that he second guessed each instinct. For example, just last week, Dan came home with flowers for Phil. His favorite flowers in fact. Dan had remembered. So Phil took them with glee and placed them on the table to admire while they ate. A few smiley days went by and Phil contemplated what those flowers could mean. Was this Dan’s way of trying to hint at Phil that he liked him? Was Dan suddenly realizing that Phil was the one all along? He even thought about asking. But Phil’s anxiety stopped him and when Dan’s phone rang a few days later and Dan shouted from the kitchen that Phil “could answer it,” Phil found out that he had sent flowers to his parents as well. So Phil banged his head against the table and shook the thoughts back to the spot they always sat, waiting for another reason to let them out.

Then there was Vidcon. The most stressful “vacation” of the year. Of course, Phil loved meeting his fans and attending panels, but the thing Phil loved the most about it was getting to spend every waking hour with his best friend. They even lucked out this year and got to share a hotel room, something Phil missed about their younger years. As they become more well known by the Youtuber community, they were offered bigger rooms, separate quarters and different schedules. Even when Dan commented about their “lack of space,” Phil just nodded and pretended he was bothered like he probably should be. Phil’s silence was expected in these sorts of situations and Dan just looked back down at his luggage as Phil’s eyes lingered on the love of his life for two more seconds.

Phil was currently staring at the back of Dan’s perfect head as they walked the hot pavement of LA. His neck wasn’t beading from sweat in the LA heat and Phil was sweating buckets. Dan hated getting sweaty and surely he’d be sweating by now in that obnoxiously big sweater. Something was off but Phil couldn’t place it.

“Phil we’re literally almost there, stop dragging your feet!” Dan called to Phil who was suddenly not feeling so hot. Was Dan moving fast or was Phil actually slowing down? He was feeling quite dizzy and now kind of hoping Anthony lived closer than a few feet because he was going to vomit if he had to walk anymore. “Dude, what’s taking you so-”

Dan turned around and froze when he saw the state that Phil was in. Phil must have looked pretty ill because Dan’s mouth was slightly open as if he wanted to finish his accusation but his brain wouldn’t let him. Phil stopped moving forward and Dan narrowed his eyes in a confused manner.

“Dear God, Phil. You look horrible…”

“Gee thanks,” Phil replied but regretted it immediately. His voice sounded like someone had ripped out his larynx and stomped on it a few times for good measure. Holy shit. Was LA finally killing him?

“Okay, only like 14 more feet,” Dan said as he looked down at his GPS. “Are you gonna make it?”

He almost asked as if Phil might need a gurney.

Phil just nodded and pushed through, mentally telling himself that maybe he needed a nap. He scratched the back of his neck where the sweat was pooling and carried on for the rest of the distance.

“Finally!” Anthony greeted them with a joke, his eyes landing on Dan first, promptly offering a hug. When they finally pulled apart, Anthony glanced at Phil and his brows furrowed. “Phil?”

“Phil!” Dan grabbed Phil’s shoulder and actually pulled him towards him because he was about to fall down the short concrete stoop they were stood on. “Maybe you should get a rest?”

Phil just nodded, things getting a little blurry. Was this what heat stroke felt like? He could have sworn he drank enough water today. He was hydrated, full of protein from his continental breakfast and had gotten plenty of sleep. So what the hell was wrong with him?

Anthony guided them to his spare bedroom and told the two that they could sort out who got the bed and who got the couch later. For now, Phil was placed into the fluffy white sheets that couldn’t look more inviting.

“Thanks, guys…” Phil mumbled, his eyes shutting and his hand reaching for the swampy nape below his hairline. He scratched it again and propped his head up on some pillows. “I’m sorry, Anthony. It’s good to see you.”

Dan laughed, at least someone was, and patted Phil’s leg.

“Get some rest. We’ll be fine without you for a minute, right Anthony?” Dan confirmed, mentioning something about wanting to talk to him about Pokemon. Phil nodded and watched as the two left the room with a slight wave and a sympathetic glance.

“I’ll be fine in a couple hours…” Phil told the empty room, hoping maybe they heard. But at the current moment, he couldn’t care. Sleep was tugging him and he was gladly going with.

-

Phil woke up with a sharp sensation on his stomach.

“Ow!” He sat up and scratched at what seemed to be a bug bite. He lifted his shirt and saw the little red bump that had become irritated quite quickly. He gasped and threw back the covers. Maybe there was a bee in the bed? He found it completely unlikely, but this was Phil Lester and honestly, he’d had worse.

Then he felt the same sensation on his leg and he jumped. He lifted his leg and found not one, not two, but three bites on his calf.

“What the…?” He searched the bed like a crazy person and thought that perhaps Anthony had ants? It was completely possible. Ants were small and LA was like a breeding ground for insects. The weather was nice and the bugs really liked that. But he searched for minutes and found nothing. All he found was a damp spot where he had once laid, his hot body had apparently sweat through his clothes and into the sheets. He grimaced at the thought of being so sweaty so he lifted his shirt from the bottom and threw it off to the side. He was hot anyway and perhaps that would help. Was he getting a hot flash? He certainly wasn’t at the age of heart failure. What the hell was happening to him?

His hand flew up to the now extremely irritated spot on the back of his neck, scratching at it and finding relief in the sharp pain of his fingernails. He had never felt this way before and it was starting to concern him. Maybe if he got out of bed, it would help cool him down. He might as well go find Anthony and let him know about the sheets…

He stood from his damp spot and caught himself before falling over. He was super dizzy and his head was throbbing from what Phil guessed was some sort of vertigo. This was the kind of pain that Phil only assumed happened in those zombie movies on TV. He would have laughed at his own thought but his head hurt too much to speak now so he just waddled forward and out of the door as he tried not to think about the itch on his neck.

He made his way down the hallway and towards the sound of pots and pans. It was still light out, thank God, so Dan and Anthony were probably cooking a meal - Phil hoped it was lunch and he hadn’t been out for too terribly long.

But when he walked into the kitchen, Dan nearly spit out the wine cooler he had been sipping.

“Holy fucking shit, Phil.” Dan’s hand landed on his chest and Anthony turned to face Phil’s slumping form, a shocked expression spreading across his face. Dan actually backed up against the counter. Suddenly, Phil’s thought about a zombie breakout didn’t seem so far-fetched. He stood silently as he tried to read their expressions.

“Phil…” Anthony started, glancing at Dan as if he would finish his sentence.

“I really don’t feel good…maybe I should…” Phil grabbed the wall so he wouldn’t fall over. Speaking took every ounce of energy from his body. His heart was beating faster but everything was going in slow motion. Dan looked like he wanted to lunge to catch Phil’s teetering body, but he stopped himself and Phil just assumed it was because he didn’t want to act all couplely in front of Anthony. This was kind of a pattern with his younger companion. The stuff that Phil usually associated with flirting only happened behind closed doors. Never in front of their other friends. Which is why none of them would believe him if he told them he thought Dan had the hots for him every now and then.

“Are those…?” Dan’s voice was higher than usual, generally signaling that something was wrong. “…bug bites?”

Phil nodded but he could see Anthony shaking his head.

“No, Dan, those aren’t bites…” he said it slowly, stepping towards Phil very carefully to get a closer look. “I think those are…chicken pox.”

“Chicken pox?” Both Dan and Phil spoke at the same time with the same inflection.

“No no no no no,” Phil mumbled, his lips getting dryer by the second. “I can’t…I don’t have chicken pox.”

“No, Phil, I’m pretty sure…” Anthony backed away at the same speed he had moved towards him. “I know chicken pox when I see them. Kalel got them pretty bad when we first started dating.”

The silence in the room was honestly unsettling. Phil didn’t like the sound of this. He didn’t know much about chicken pox, as he never got it when he was a kid, but he knew it meant that he was sick and not with the common cold he usually left Vidcon with.

“Fuck!” Dan exclaimed, his eyes landing on his hands. “Phil, I swear if you got us both sick I’m going to kill you.”

He went to the sink and washed his hands immediately, even though it probably did nothing in terms of disease prevention. Anthony shot Phil a caring glance, obviously not used to Dan’s humor. Phil knew he was joking but kind of wished he wasn’t. Phil would take death right now. Anything but how itchy he had become.

He looked down at his irritated chest and suddenly understood why they had stared at him as if he had 13 heads. He had at least 30 little red bumps littering his chest and abdomen. He looked like an advanced dot-to-dot puzzle that would take hours to complete.

“You really should get back into bed,” Anthony said, his eyebrows up in a sympathetic gaze. “I’ve never had chicken pox and I’m not really into the idea of getting it when I’m 29, thank you very much.”

Phil’s eyes drifted to Dan who was now drying off his hands on a dish towel behind the counter.

“Don’t look at me! I haven’t had it either. Sorry, mate, I’m staying over here,” Dan shook his head and bit his lip. Phil could tell that he felt bad but there wasn’t much he could do about the situation. Unless he wanted to catch the pox himself which Phil was nearly certain wasn’t the case.

Phil hung his head and nodded, hoping he wasn’t being too dramatic as he exited the room. He was yawning and luckily his fatigue would put him right to sleep. That was the hope anyway. He climbed back into the soggy bed and tried to ignore how itchy his entire body had become. What the hell had he done to deserve this?

-

Phil was drifting in and out of sleep for hours. He tossed and turned and couldn’t manage comfort at all. He had strange nightmares that morphed with his reality. The walls were thin and he could hear conversations happening in the lounge. Dan and Anthony must have put on a movie because he could hear car racing through the wall. However, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was just his imagination.

He was awoken by a creak of the door and the entrance of a head into the crack. He glanced over with his blurry vision and thought he could make out the shape of Dan’s face. Anthony and Dan looked enough alike and he said nothing, just in case, but the familiar British accent comforted him when Dan finally spoke.

“You doing okay?” He asked gently, knowing the answer with a single glance. Phil was clearly in terrible shape and he was the type to look deathly ill when it was just a cold.

Phil shook his head and sighed. Dan nodded, probably assuming that Phil didn’t want to talk. Thank God they knew each other so well. Phil couldn’t imagine what would have happened if it were just him and Anthony.

“So listen…” Dan wasn’t coming into the room, for obvious reasons, but Phil didn’t like the way he stood in the door. His head was peeking through a crack and it almost looked like he wouldn’t breathe in the air that was coming from Phil’s direction. Phil knew that Dan was being cautious but his sick mind was convincing him otherwise. As if Phil was disgusting him. He thanked his irrational brain for that mindset and tried to shake it. “Our flight is at 9:00 pm tomorrow. I don’t know much about chicken pox, but I don’t think you can fly home while you have it.”

Phil hadn’t thought about this. He hadn’t had time. But Dan was right. His dad got the measles once when he was a kid and couldn’t go on the family vacation to Florida. Airlines were serious about this stuff and surely Phil was in no condition to fly anyways.

So was Dan going to fly home without him? That didn’t seem like a good idea. He barely knew Anthony. He couldn’t stay here. And if he did leave and go buy a hotel room, he would have to take care of everything himself. No way. Dan wouldn’t leave him…would he?

“Are you gonna…?” Phil mumbled, trying to get all of his worries across in those three words. His tone was rather clear. Dan’s eyes widened as if he understood.

“No no! That’s what I came here to tell you.” Phil felt the relief wash over him. Dan was a good friend after all. “Anthony said we are more than welcome to stay here. It’s cheaper than a hotel and honestly, you don’t seem like you can move. We can worry about a flight later when you’re feeling a little bit better, yeah?”

Phil nodded, so grateful that Dan knew everything about him, including his hypochondriac habits.

“Great.” Dan shifted where he stood. “Can I get you anything while I’m back here?”

Anthony’s guest room was the furthest door from the front of his flat. Phil was nicely tucked away where he could sulk away his sickness without the outlook of others. He supposed that this was the right call but he was feeling particularly left out. He did come to Vidcon with the expectation to hang out with his friends. If he was being honest, solitude was only making his illness worse. Hearing Dan and Anthony talking and laughing in-between his sleep spells was irritating.

“No,” Phil lied, wishing he could complain to Dan about how lonely he was feeling. But Dan didn’t look like he wanted to spend any more time where he was standing and Phil understood. Chicken pox was highly contagious and if what he had heard was true, he would be this way for a few days minimum.

“Alright. Well, Anthony and I are gonna worry about getting medication for you. Just hang tight. Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Dan continued, his eyes soft and filled with concern. Phil wished that Dan would stick around a little longer, but he was still feeling rather dizzy with the desire to sleep so he didn’t argue. He just half nodded and tucked himself into the pillow a little more, humming in discontent. He was trying so hard not to itch himself and was close to asking for oven mitts. But sleeping helped pass the time and he could ignore the pain while he was unconscious.

Dan lingered for a minute after their conversation was clearly over. Phil could feel Dan’s eyes on him even though his own were closed, Dan’s presence was always something he was good at sensing. But then Phil heard the door squeak shut, his sick presence now the only thing left in the room.

Sleep came quickly, but not until his brain threw out some more toxic thoughts. Ones that he could identify as paranoia, yet still paused to consider. Thoughts that suggested that Anthony was going to replace him. Thoughts that proposed that Anthony was better than Phil. The thoughts that whispered jealousy only made Phil more upset about being bedridden.

-

When one sleeps all day, it’s often hard for one to sleep through the night. Phil was restless. He had checked his phone for the time, the result annoyingly earlier than he thought. It was only 11:00 pm and there was no way Dan or Anthony had gone to bed. He listened for a sign that they were awake and heard nothing. Perhaps they had gone to bed. Dan and Phil had woken rather early that morning. It’s possible that Dan tuckered out.

But that wasn’t like Dan. Dan was known to push his limits when it came to sleeping. He liked his friends too much and Anthony was no exception.

Phil figured that while he couldn’t sleep, he should try and mobilize. He could use a drink of water and it wasn’t too far to the kitchen. It would ease his random anxiety about being left out and that was worth something.

Grunting a little, he stood from his little nest. He still didn’t feel totally up to par, but his head wasn’t throbbing as much as it had been 10 hours ago. He slowly inched his way to the door and opened it slowly. There was a small creak from the floorboards as he walked into the hallway. It was then that he heard something from the living room. A little shuffle from someone seated on the couch. Maybe Dan had passed out and he was just turning in his sleep. That was comforting to an extent. That at least meant that Phil wasn’t missing anything too exciting.

Phil rounded the corner from the hallway and was met with not the one form he was expecting, but two. Dan and Anthony were both turned with flushed faces and wide eyes, looking directly at Phil.

“Hey, Phil!” Dan said, his voice kind of cracking, a quick cough clearing that up and his voice returning to the considerate tone he was using earlier. “How are you feeling?”

Phil was staring. He was sick but not stupid. Anthony was fixing his shirt near the neckline and Dan was subtly trying to wipe his lips off with the side of his hand.

Fucking hell.

They were making out.

Phil sighed, obviously pretending not to notice what was going on before he walked in. When you’re best friends with someone and they are trying to cover something up, it’s polite not to ask. Allegedly, Dan will tell him later, as best friends do. Then Phil is to pretend he didn’t know and Dan will giggle about how Anthony is “such a good kisser.” He can hear it now, yet he wished he couldn’t.

“I um…just needed some water. Maybe some fruit or something,” Phil sulked. It’s a good thing he was sick. The sulking was considered a side effect of illness. Dan nodded and cleared his throat again.

“Need some help?” he asked, his eyes pleading for Phil to say no. That would just make this entire thing far more awkward. Phil wasn’t a shitty friend, so he shook his head and took one last look at the state of his friends, turning and heading toward the kitchen.

“Glasses are in the top left cabinet!” Anthony shouted, to which Phil didn’t answer. He just grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink, spotting an orange and collecting that as well. He shuffled back out to where he was standing before, blinking at the two awkwardly silent boys, hoping that it would make them feel uncomfortable, then he turned without a word, heading back to his place of slumber.

Phil shut the door and stood still, staring at the wall above the bed. He leaned against the wooden entranceway and replayed the last two minutes over and over.

Then he felt something dripping in his hand and he noticed that he had just crushed the orange he was holding. Great. The rind had split and the insides were slipping through the crack.

Dan had just been kissing Anthony.

His stomach now ached with something he usually identified as jealousy, but because he was already sick, he couldn’t tell.

He was mad. But was he overreacting? Probably. Dan was the love of his life and there was always that string of hope that perhaps Phil was Dan’s, but now he knew for sure. He knew that he had zero chance with Dan, with or without chicken pox, and that’s what was breaking him.

He drank half of the glass he poured himself and then flopped onto the bed belly down. At this point, he didn’t care that the orange was released from his hand and tumbling to the floor. All he cared about was his miserable existence and the fact that his best friend was making out with their good friend.

In any other situation, he would have laughed and joked to himself about thinking too much like Dan. But honestly, he saw no other reaction.

This sucked.

Then Phil started thinking about how none of this would have happened if he hadn’t gotten this horrible illness. Chicken pox was known for ruining things but how many people could say that chicken pox was the reason the love of their life was making out with someone else? Only a couple rooms over even. How the hell did Phil get this kind of luck?

Phil’s eyes shut and he sighed, knowing that there was nothing he could do about the situation. But the universe was not done with him. Not yet. He heard a lighthearted giggle from the other room. Then a silence. Then another giggle.

Phil knew they were probably laughing at a joke one of them cracked or something of that sort, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe they were laughing at him. The poor boy with chicken pox who nearly just walked in on them sucking face. If only they knew. Dan should know that Phil was smarter than that. His stomach sank before he was able to stop his brain.

-

You would think that things would get less awkward after that and everything would go back to normal but after an embarrassing little cry and a restless sleep, Phil awoke to a knock on the door. Dan entered slowly, taking in the appearance of his friend who looked to be doing worse.

Phil was doing better but his emotional state was starting to wither. He was still itchy but his mind was racing with the possibilities of Dan and Anthony’s midnight escapades, and he had forgotten about the red splotches covering his skin. He supposed that was one good thing about being ridden with jealousy. Other less important things are forgotten.

“I brought you chicken noodle,” Dan said, his smile probably genuine. His lips looked like the lips that Phil usually longed to kiss, but all Phil could see now were devices that had been attached to another human being’s face. “How do you feel?”

Psh. If only Phil could really tell him.

“Fine,” Phil answered, his voice nearly gone. His throat was raw and the crying probably hadn’t helped.

“Well Anthony said that maybe we should take you to a doctor when you’re feeling up for it,” Dan suggested. Phil shivered at the sound of Anthony’s voice leaving Dan’s lips. He was angry at himself for thinking so foully about one of his friends. But he was sick. He was allowed some slack. At least that’s what he told his criticist brain. “You feeling up for a trip?”

“How far…cause I don’t know if I can-”

“Oh, Anthony will drive,” Dan interrupted, somehow reading Phil’s train of thought. Phil didn’t feel like walking anymore in that heat. Usually, Phil is glad that Dan could read him like a book, but if he was going to be interrupted like this, he’d prefer if it wasn’t with Anthony’s name.

“Okay.” Phil nodded and sighed, looking at the bowl of soup that Dan placed next to his bed. The side table was littered with tissues. Luckily Anthony’s guest bedroom was stocked with tissues and a trash bin. Maybe not for this specific purpose, but it aided his drippy eyes last night.

Dan noticed his eyes on the tissues and he laughed. “You must be feeling better if you can beat it that hard.”

It took Phil a second to get what Dan meant by “beat it.” He glanced at the tissues that he had shed his tears into and then returned his glance to Dan, offering him a small smile. He didn’t have the energy to come up with some bullshit reason.

“Eat your soup and then we can get you to the doctor, okay?” Dan smiled, noticing that Phil was not in the mood to talk about masturbation habits. It almost looked like he was going to reach out and pet Phil’s leg, but then he drew back and nodded, swallowing and leaving the room to do God knows what.

Phil just sat up and worked on his soup. It was hot but he didn’t mind. He hadn’t really had the appetite for anything and it was good to finally feel something slide down his throat.

He managed to rummage through his suitcase and found something fresh to wear, a t-shirt he saved for the plane due to comfort reasons, slid over his shoulders and fell over his little spots. He put on the jacket that he packed just in case and laced up the shoes that he had discarded before falling into bed the first day. He looked ready enough for a doctor’s visit and he headed towards the front of the apartment.

Luckily this time he didn’t walk in on his friends doing anything criminal, but they were standing far too close to not mean something. Phil rolled his eyes when nobody could see him and he muttered a “ready” to which the two boys turned towards him.

They walked over to the front door, Anthony grabbing his keys and the three of them leaving the apartment as Anthony locked up. Both boys looked to be avoiding Phil at all costs, not even closing the four-foot gap that was between them as they walked. But Phil noticed that Dan was gravitating towards Anthony, their hands brushing together and Dan’s goofy smile revealing itself every time it happened. Phil would know because this is the shit that he used to do to Dan. He tried his hardest not to show how upset he was about this but clearly it wasn’t working because when the Anthony opened the back door of the car, he made some joke to Dan about how badly Phil needed to get to the doctor. He apparently looked “sour and sickly.”

Phil would have laughed.

But he didn’t.

The car ride was silent, Dan finally taking the aux chord and pumping some of his music into the car. Quietly, of course, not wanting to disturb Phil’s theoretical headache.

The doctor’s visit was surprisingly painless. Other than the trip in and out of the building, Phil was admitted immediately and seen rather quickly. The doctor took one look at the spots on his body, prescribing him medicine directly. He had heard such terrible things about US healthcare and he was happy that he didn’t have to deal with anything too terrible this time.

While he was waiting for the doctor to return with his medicine, he grimaced at the thought of Dan and Anthony waiting for him in the car. He could imagine them making out or something, talking about their exciting plans for the rest of the day while Phil slept in the guest room, away from the two lovebirds. Obviously, he wouldn’t want the festivities to halt on his accord. That would not be fair for him to suggest, not to mention, the more downtime Dan and Anthony had, the more they would probably suck face. He scowled at the thought and accidentally glared at the doctor who was re-entering.

“You’re all set, Mr. Lester. Have a safe flight back.” The doctor had told him he could fly in two days, after the medicine began to work and he was no longer contagious. He was happy about this. The shorter the visit was, the less he would have to endure of Dan and Anthony’s little affair.

-

Phil thought it couldn’t get worse. When they got back, Anthony made lunch for them both, Phil opting to eat in his bed and away from whatever was going on in the other two’s lives that day. They didn’t want to be near Phil and if Phil was being honest, he didn’t want to be near them either. Anthony brought him the sandwich and then closed the door, giving Phil a couple words of encouragement like “I hope you get better soon” and “we’ll miss you.”

Bullshit.

He ate his sandwich and took a nap. The meds he took were making him quite drowsy, but if he could pass the time while sleeping, then so be it. That was the best way to power through this horrible extended stay.

But holy shit was he regretting that nap.

He awoke to a loud thump and it startled him awake. He was groggy as hell but after working so hard to get to sleep in the first place, this thump was the end of a somewhat struggle sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking to his phone for the time. It was late. Very late. Once again, he had missed dinner with his slumber and he was itching - both figuratively and metaphorically - for a snack.

Standing was getting easier each time and he figured that maybe it was the meds. Thank God for medical technology. At least he no longer had that horrible headache and he had stopped sweating a significant amount into the sheets.

This time he avoided the creak in the floorboard and because it was late, he tried to do his best to stay quiet. He basically tip-toed into the kitchen and silently took the can of soup off the counter that had a note written next to it in Dan’s handwriting. Phil.

Well, that was nice of him. At least his friend remembered what it was like to be sick and hungry when nobody is awake. That sucks. He got a little pan and poured the soup into it, turning on the stove and standing blankly for what he assumed was only half a minute.

That was until he heard another thump. What the hell? It sounded like it had come from inside the apartment. Phil only barely started worrying that perhaps he had broken something somehow, which would be his luck, when he heard an extremely uncharacteristic giggle coming from someone in the room down the hall. He froze.

Scared that he already knew the answer, he quietly walked over to the couch where Dan was supposed to be sleeping to see if his best friend was there. He nearly went faint when he saw nobody lying there. Now, standing closer to the hallway, he could hear voices behind what he assumed was Anthony’s room.

Well, this is just great.

He walked back over to the stove and didn’t even bother to let his soup come to a boil before pouring it into the bowl he found in one of the cabinets. He wasn’t trying to be quiet now either. He didn’t give a fuck if Dan and their friend could hear him. He just wanted to go hide under the covers where he couldn’t hear the monstrosity of the situation at hand.

Shuffling back to his room, he barely made it in before he actually cursed out loud.

“FUCK.”

Dan knew how hard it was to make him curse. If only he was here now. He placed down the soup that wasn’t ever gonna be warm enough and flopped on the bed.

“God damnit…” he whimpered, wishing he could just vanish.

But as things usually did for him, that’s when it got worse. Much much worse.

He heard Dan moan through the wall.

It could have been a heated Mario Kart race, it could have been a funny skit they were filming in the middle of the night, it could have been anything.

But he knew Dan’s moan when he heard it. He wasn’t deaf and Dan wasn’t exactly quiet when he got off at home. Their walls were thin and if that meant that Phil could hear everything, it wasn’t a crime for him to have listened once or twice.

But that solidified the image and now he was hearing more thumps and a few more obscene sounds that he desperately wished he couldn’t hear.

If only chicken pox made you go deaf. That would be a pleasant alternative.

It was then that his spots started itching. He supposed they had been itching all along, but suddenly he was falling apart. Inside and out.

Itch.

Moan.

Itch.

Moan.

Everything around him was attacking him, including his active imagination that was now picturing Dan being bent over and getting fucked by their mutual friend. One that Phil didn’t even want to look at anymore. But of course, he had this fucking illness and he was just letting the love of his life get laid while he lied in the other man’s bed.

What a fucking trip.

Itch.

Moan.

Itch.

Moan.

Itch.

Moan.

He didn’t see an end to his suffering and he started to contemplate just leaving altogether. Finding a hotel and just waiting out his symptoms there. Where he could at least wallow in silence.

The bed was creaking now, which only added to the comedic effect. If it wasn’t Dan, this would be funny. In fact, Dan and Phil had been in a situation like this situation before. They were staying at a friend’s place and that friend had brought someone home that night, leaving Dan and Phil to stay up in the living room laughing at the obvious sex that was happening behind their friend’s door.

But this was different. Dan wasn’t here to laugh with him. He was hearing Dan get boned and as much as he hated Anthony in this moment, if he was being honest, he just wanted to be unsick. If he hadn’t gotten this freakin virus in the first place, then none of this would have happened. He would have just hung out with his friends and had a good couple days in LA. He wouldn’t be sulking on a bed that wasn’t his. He might have even been able to convince Dan to sleep in the bed with him. It wouldn’t be the first time. And then maybe, just maybe, Dan would be sleeping with him right now. Not Anthony.

Phil thought about Anthony’s perfect lifestyle and his amazing features and this was a hole he wouldn’t emerge from for a couple hours. Anthony was clearly more assertive than Phil was and that was probably why this happened so fast. Now that Phil was thinking about it, this doesn’t seem super out of character for Dan anyway. Dan changed a lot this year and maybe this was something he should have seen coming.

It wasn’t all about Phil anymore. Not like it had been in 2009. Dan was finding new people to hang with and it didn’t even seem like it was making a difference that he wasn’t around these past few days. He had barely seen his friends since he found out he was sick. Granted, he was sleeping a bunch, but that didn’t mean people couldn’t come in and say hello…or something.

A loud extended moan that basically screamed “we’re alone in this house right now” pierced the walls and Phil knew the sound of Dan cumming when he heard it. He sighed because usually when he hears that, he gets turned on. This time, he is nothing but dejected.

-

“G’morning, Philly!” Dan knocked on the door, his freshly fucked face shining brighter than the LA sun. Phil blinked away the sleep and sat up slightly in his stupid bed nest. He didn’t even bother smiling. The tissues that littered the bed seemed to describe how he felt at the moment, overwhelmed and like garbage. He scratched at one of the bumps on his chest as he swallowed.

“Hey.”

“Anthony and I are going to the store. Need anything?”

Phil shook his head, looking away from the bright-eyed boy who was now rolling up his sweater sleeves.

“Alright. Well if I see any of those Haribo sweets, I’ll make sure I snag em for you,” Dan proposed sweetly, his smile too genuine for the noises Phil had heard the night before.

“Don’t bother,” Phil grumbled. Sure it was an act of kindness, but now that he knew Dan liked Anthony, his brain wouldn’t even try to spin it as an act of love. “Not hungry.”

“But you might be later! And plus, you told me you wanted to get some before the end of the trip,” Dan explained, Phil just nodded his head and looking down.

Dan might have been lovestruck, but he has never been a bad friend.

“Phil? Are you okay?” He had obviously noticed Phil’s somewhat reserved tone. Phil was usually pretty good at faking a smile or making small talk, even when he was sick. Dan knew this plenty well. “What’s wrong?”

Dan stepped closer, but not close enough for this conversation to be intimate. Phil understood it was because of his chicken pox, but his brain decided it was because Dan didn’t care enough.

Phil said nothing, not really knowing how to explain the feelings he was being plagued with right now. But Dan was smarter than that.

“Aw, Phil. You feel left out, don’t you?” Dan hit the nail on the head. Well, part of it. Phil didn’t even try to deny it. He sighed and looked at the wall behind Dan. “Oh God, I’m sorry, Phil. It probably sucks being in bed all day.”

Phil nodded.

“How about, if you’re up for it, we can watch a movie tonight? Altogether?” Dan suggested. Sure, if Phil wasn’t super jealous of what was going on behind closed doors, then this would have been sweet. But sitting in a room with two people he could hear having sex only 10 hours before this moment didn’t seem appetizing to him in the slightest. But not being there was worse and so he nodded to please his friend. “Good. I’ll go tell Anthony.”

Phil resisted the urge to mock Dan and he just smiled flatly as Dan stepped back a little.

“Well…get some rest then,” Dan smiled and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Phil took a tissue and tried to throw it at the door, but it just fell lazily at his feet and he flopped back down onto the bed and tried not to listen to the shuffling and laughter from the boys down the hall.

-

They let Phil chose the movie, probably because they felt bad, but Phil was isolated to the little side chair and Dan and Anthony sat far too close for the big couch they were on. Phil chose Big Hero 6 because he hadn’t seen it in so long, not to mention, Anthony had the UK version for some reason, which Dan and Phil had actually been in.

But he regretted his choice immediately, especially because Anthony and Dan talked right over their lines.

Phil barely waited for the credits to roll before he stood abruptly and removed himself from the room. He simply waved and bedded himself, taking his second-to-last pill. In the morning, he would take the last one and then he wouldn’t be contagious anymore. Thank God.

Maybe then they could forget this trip ever happened and Phil would do his best to block what he heard from his memories.

He did not plan, however, for Dan to come knocking on his door.

He did not plan for Dan to come in and sit on the end of his bed.

He did not plan for Dan to say “I need your advice.”

A part of Phil wanted to shoo the other boy away but the other part of him was honored that Dan still came to him. Nonetheless, he was not excited about what was about to come from Dan’s mouth.

“Shoot.” Phil was clearly conscious enough to watch the movie and give advice. Plus he was barely feeling anything but itchy. Itchy and envious.

“So uh…I kissed Anthony,” Dan admitted as if Phil hadn’t figured that out already. He failed to mention that he did far more than kiss Anthony the other night, so Phil didn’t say anything, letting the other boy continue. It seemed that he was gauging the reaction of his friend and Phil was jealous but not terrible. He was just going to pretend he heard nothing. “And I feel like we have a lot of chemistry.”

That’s because I’m not there to show you what real chemistry feels like.

Phil nodded along and tried to show a supportive face.

“I wanted to ask you because…” Dan kind of looked at the ground. “I feel like as my best friend, you should have a say in who I date.” He looked up and met Phil’s eyes that were fighting to stay dry. “Do you think I should go for it?”

Phil gulped. He could totally change this right now. He could totally change the course of his best friend’s relationship. Dan apparently cared a lot about his opinion and he could just tell him “no” and this whole thing would be over.

But Phil wasn’t that guy. He was a good friend and there was no way that he would let something like this sit on his conscience for years to come.

He sat up and looked into the desperate brown eyes and nodded.

“Anthony’s a nice guy. You think he feels the same way?” Phil heard himself say, kind of disappointed in his good morale.

Dan nodded and played with his sleeve.

“I mean, he kissed me back.”

“Well,” Phil said, making a gesture that said, “Then I see nothing wrong with it.”

Dan smiled and Phil would have melted if that smile was for him. But it wasn’t. Not really. That smile was for Anthony.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be so anxious.” Dan admitted. “Thanks, Phil.”

Phil nodded and he watched as Dan started to get up.

Then Phil said something that he would have NEVER expected to leave his mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted him to stay longer or if he just wanted to stir the pot, but he cleared his throat and said;

“Especially because usually, when a person fucks you that hard, that means they like you.”

Dan’s head whipped around and his eyes were blown wide. It seemed he was going through a million emotions at once. He was most likely confused as to why Phil knew about that, probably flashing back and realizing how loud he was being, then his mind probably alarmed him that he had just lied to Phil and told him that he had just kissed the boy, and then because Phil was cursing at him and that usually meant that something was up.

Dan stood still for so long, Phil kind of assumed he was turning to stone.

“You didn’t need to hear that. Sorry, Phil,” he apologized, his face flushing a brilliant shade of red. “I’ll be quieter next time.”

Next time.

This literally couldn’t get worse. Phil was quickly losing his filter and it was clear his subconscious and cooped up brain was trying to push him past the point of no return.

“I didn’t. You’re right. Especially since I’m in love with you and everything,” Phil snarked, his tone not right for what just came out. Dan was standing there with his mouth agape, his frozen state only worsening.

Phil didn’t know what he was doing, but this must be what it was like to hit rock bottom.

“Phil- I think maybe those meds are making you loopy. You should try to get some r-”

“Rest? Get some rest while you go make googly eyes at Anthony? Sure, let me just tell my brain to stop insisting he’s better than me in every way. Then maybe I can get some rest,” Phil said in the most deadpan voice he’s ever pulled.

This was not about him. Hell, he had just given Dan his blessing. What the fuck was this all about? He cursed his brain for doing this. He was almost out of the woods. He would have been sad, but he could get over it. Now he had spilled his secret and was spitting a hurtful tone at his friend who was just trying to be nice.

“Phil, where is this coming from? I don't…I don’t know what you want me to do…” Dan kind of whispered, his face looking a little confused. To be fair, Phil wasn’t even sure what he wanted him to do. First, he was calling Dan out for lying and having sex audibly, but now he was confessing his love and who knows how Dan felt about that? “I’m sorry. I don’t feel…”

The same way.

Well fuck.

Phil just fell to the pillow and turned his head. Anything to break the eye contact that he had been holding with the other boy.

“We can talk about this…” Dan said, door creaking again. “…another day. Goodnight.”

And that’s when the door shut, Phil now in the lonesomeness that was this stupid bedroom. Dan was now probably off to go tell Anthony what had just happened, then have some romantic fuck without Phil’s knowledge. Great. Just great.

Phil was feeling better. Less itchy, no throbbing head and his temperature was mostly normal. But his insides were broken. His heart felt heavy and the tears fell again, only to leave him sobbing with no more clean tissues, into a sleep that felt like death.

-

Anthony woke him the next morning, much to Phil’s dismay, and he thought it might be a nightmare. Maybe everything was a nightmare and he hadn’t said all those terrible things to his best friend. But no, why else would Anthony be knocking on his door and bringing him a banana for breakfast. He didn’t even like bananas. That means that Dan wanted nothing to do with him. Not today. And he must have told Anthony to go deal with Phil.

“How are you feeling?” Anthony asked, throwing the banana on the bed from the doorway. Phil just shrugged and looked down. “Well, Dan says he’s going to book your flight for tonight. Since you’re no longer contagious. You think that’s doable?”

Phil nodded before giving the question much thought. Usually, when people said “your” in relation to Dan and Phil, it meant both of them. But now Phil wasn’t so sure. Was Dan going to send Phil back by himself? Was he going to spend a few more days alone here with Anthony? Phil didn’t like being here with them both but he certainly didn’t like the idea of leaving them on their own.

“Cool, I’ll let him know. Good to see you’re doing better.” Anthony flashed him a smile and then made haste to remove himself from the room.

Phil sighed and stared at the banana.

Dan knew he hated bananas.

-

Phil had packed his things and Anthony so kindly lent him his shower. He changed into some clean clothes and tried to look healthy. He was still feeling pretty shit and once he found out that Dan was, in fact, staying a couple extra days, he didn’t really care about his appearance. The three had a quiet lunch where Phil ate something substantial for the first time in days, his stomach happy about that decision, and then he was waiting for the Über to come take him to the airport.

Of course, it was raining.

Dan looked to be avoiding his gaze and Phil couldn’t blame him. Maybe being on a plane with the person that just told you they love you isn’t exactly easy. So Phil couldn’t blame either of them.

When his Über arrived, he said his goodbyes, but neither of them would hug him. They knew he wasn’t contagious now, but they still didn’t want to risk it. Phil waved at Dan and tried to make some form of eye contact to replace the hug, but Dan wouldn’t even look up. Phil nodded and shuffled down to the car.

This felt very very wrong.

He reached the airport and went through the process of getting on the plane by himself. It was boring to sit in the airport alone. He made it on time and got on the plane, barely noticing when the plane took off. Plane rides were ten times more fun when his best friend wasn’t in LA with some guy doing God knows what.

He reached their flat in the morning, the time difference fucking with him, collapsing immediately onto his own bed and falling asleep. He only awoke later that night to an empty flat and a stupid headache.

Getting up from his bed was a struggle, but he figured he might as well. He needed to eat and drink some water. He was 90% sure that his headache was because of his lack of water intake. He went ahead and made coffee, sipping at it black because they were out of milk, then fisting a handful of cereal into his mouth.

He reflected on the last couple of days and grimaced when he replayed the last conversation he had with Dan. He really fudged it. He made things super awkward. He made things worse. He didn’t even know why he had done it. He supposed that he had just snapped. Eight years was enough. The information was bound to slip out sometime.

Just when he was truly starting to hate himself, he heard a key fit into the front door’s lock. His eyes went wide and he flipped through all the people who had a key to their flat. His brother, Louise, PJ…nobody was supposed to come over while they were gone.

If this was an intruder, that would just be the icing on the cake to a terrible couple days. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he could give the person chicken pox. That would show them not to break into people’s homes.

But when the door opened to reveal a rather disheveled Dan Howell, Phil took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, returning the frames to his face.

Phil thought the flat was silent before. But now that there were two people in the flat, it felt even quieter. Dan said nothing and he just closed the door softly behind him, dropping his suitcase and giving Phil a half smile.

Phil didn’t even care that he was staring. He used his eyes to demand an explanation from his friend.

Dan mumbled something that Phil didn’t quite catch, the other boy’s eyes darting towards to the ground.

“Hm?” Phil stepped a little closer, grabbing one of Dan’s bags. Offering his help was the only thing that could make this moment any less awkward.

“It’s not gonna work,” Dan repeated, his head hanging. “Anthony doesn’t wanna do long distance.”

Phil stood there in shock, holding Dan’s suitcase in his hand and cocking his head. He needed to make up for the fact that he was so rude before, so his face fell and he frowned.

“But you were going to stay a couple days. That’s not long distance,” Phil argued. Dan just stared at him. Almost like he was having a hard time interpreting Phil’s kindness. Sure, Phil confessed his love, but that wasn’t going to stop him from being a supportive friend.

“It’s not worth it. I like him, but if he’s not willing to do it, then I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” Dan said sadly, pushing past Phil and heading for his own bedroom. Phil followed him with the suitcase.

“I’m sorry, Dan,” Phil said, stopping outside his door. He didn’t wanna break any boundaries, so he set the suitcase inside and stared at Dan who flopped down on his own bedspread.

“No, you’re not.”

Phil froze.

“Of course I am…” Phil reassured. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know why, Phil.”

Phil was silent for longer than he should have allowed himself to be but he did respond after a moment.

“I care about your happiness, Dan,” Phil said, sad that Dan would think otherwise about their friendship. “I really am sorry that it didn’t work out.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You can come in.”

Phil hesitated, but he nodded and entered the room, hovering over by the bed where Dan was staring at the ceiling.

“Gonna be honest, I liked you for a long time, Phil,” Dan said out of nowhere. Phil softly sat at the end of the bed. If Dan was planning to continue the conversation they were having the night before, he needed to be sitting. “But I forced myself to stop when I thought you didn’t like me back.”

Phil opened his mouth to speak, but Dan cut him off.

“You were good at hiding it I guess. I tried to do things to show you I liked you. But I guess we aren’t as psychic as we thought…” Dan chuckled a little.

“And now?” Phil asked, his voice trembling.

“And now…I can’t even picture us kissing,” Dan turned his head to look up at Phil. Phil’s eyebrows went up. How can good news turn sour so quickly? Dan stared at him for a while, his eyes flicking down to Phil’s pursed lips. “Nope. Still, can’t picture it.”

Phil turned away and looked at the wall, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“But I also can’t picture a life without you…” Dan said. Phil’s head whipped around and he nearly forgot that he had been sick in bed for the past few days. His eyes were blown wide and Dan was staring up at him with a slight blush.

Phil didn’t want to get his hopes up and his brain forced him to remember that he was pretty much ignored for the past couple days. Dan seemed perfectly fine without him. Better than usual in fact.

“You’re not thinking clearly. I’m sure you can,” Phil stumbled out, trying his best to think level headedly. “If Anthony lived in London I’m sure it would have worked ou-”

“But Anthony isn’t you. And when it came time to take things further, I can’t leave you for him. He would have to come live here with us and what if he asks me to marry him? Then I’m an engaged man not wanting to move away from his best friend. I refuse to believe that’s not because I-” Dan was getting animated, his body sitting up and their faces now leveling. “Because I love you.”

Phil’s eyes didn’t have time to even blink before Dan was leaning in and planting the most unexpected kiss in Phil’s entire 30-year-old lifespan.

Dan’s kiss was deep and his tongue took the plunge that Phil had always wanted, but immediately he remembered just how sick he was. Sure, the virus was no longer contagious to people on a plane or in his general vicinity, but surely sticking someone’s tongue in your mouth was the fastest way to spread the virus and Dan was certainly asking for it.

Phil came to his senses and placed his hands on Dan’s shoulders, prying the younger boy off of him and gulping. That was certainly one of the hardest things he’d ever done, after all, he had waited so long for this moment. It hurt him even more to see Dan’s unsure face, his eyes nearly at the point of tears, this being the second rejection he’s gone through today.

Phil made haste with an explanation, not wanting to leave Dan in the dark. Especially about this.

“It’s not that I don’t want…” Phil stumbled, the taste of Dan’s lips tripping him up. “Because I do, it’s just…” Phil swallowed. “The chicken pox. I don’t want you to-”

Dan’s lips crashed into his again, the sentence not seeming to register. And if it did, Dan clearly didn’t care. Dan was on him so fast and Phil’s mind was reeling. For more reasons than one. As Dan gently laid him back against the bed and put his weight on top of Phil, pretty much clawing at Phil’s shirt, Phil thought about the words Dan had just said. He loved him. And if Phil didn’t believe him then, he surely did now. Even with the near impossibility of not getting chicken pox after this kiss, he had done it anyway. Not that Phil was arguing, but he was certainly shocked. Dan was kissing him fervently now and Phil was trying to forget how monumental this move was while he enjoyed the feeling of Dan’s body on him.

Their kiss slowed and Phil looked up into the brown eyes he had seen so many times before, somehow seeing something different this time. Something he had always thought he’d see in small doses. This was the look Dan would give him in 2009. This was the look that meant Dan loved him. Phil knew now and he hated himself for never going for it when he could have had this all along.

“Dan…” Phil whispered as he gently placed a kiss on Dan’s neck. “Please. Let me show you how much I love you.”

Dan nearly mewled at what Phil said, his eyes glazing over and his mouth dropping open. His lips were still wet with Phil’s kiss and Phil never wanted to see him in any other state that wasn’t freshly kissed. Dan nodded and rolled off of Phil’s body, landing beside him and waiting for Phil to make the next move.

Phil resumed the position that Dan was just occupying, climbing on top of Dan and kissing his neck until Dan made a little noise of approval. Phil tugged on the bottom of Dan’s shirt, sliding his hands up with the fabric and then pulling it off, only disconnecting his lips from Dan’s jugular for a second before he kept kissing down onto Dan’s chest. He nibbled a little on the skin near his clavicle, guessing that Dan would be into it, and then he stopped when his eyes met something that made him smile. He lifted his head and Dan felt the way Phil’s chest was racking with laughter.

“What?” Dan asked, looking a little irritated that something so funny was interrupting their moment. That’s when Phil slid his left hand up Dan’s rib cage to point at the little red dot that was sitting right on Dan’s neck. Phil looked down at the other boy’s chest and covered his mouth to hide his teeth as he laughed harder. “What!?”

Dan sat up on his elbows and looked down at his bare stomach, noticing the little marks that plagued his body. His chest looked a lot like Phil’s had the night before.

“You already had it,” Phil laughed, kissing a few of the marks before returning to Dan’s mouth with a smirk. “You got it anyway.”

“God Damnit, Phil. You gave me your illness you, Rat!” Dan groaned, his hands reaching to cover his face. “I can’t believe this. I was doing such a good job avoiding you too!”

Dan joked and Phil just kissed him in-between his sentences.

“Nuh uh, the doctor says it takes a minimum of ten days for it to show symptoms after you get it. So you probably got it from the same place I did, Danny,” Phil teased. Dan laughed because at this point, he was expecting it anyway. But then his face went pale and Phil looked at him worriedly.

“What?” Phil asked, hoping he hadn’t said anything or done something that would make Dan regret their current position.

“Anthony…”

Phil had never removed himself from another human being so fast. He backed up and sat on his heels, very confused as to why their US friend’s name was even mentioned in an intimate situation like this.

Dan sighed and pulled Phil back down on top of him.

“Stop it, you spoon. I just realized that if I already had chicken pox…” Dan made a face and Phil immediately understood. He shouldn’t of, but he laughed. “Hey! Come on…I feel bad now…”

“That’s called Karma…” Phil snarked, kissing at Dan’s chest again and making him gasp.

“I have never seen you so…” Dan fished for a word.

“Jealous?” Phil offered. “Resentful?” He kissed down Dan’s body, taking a moment to lick into Dan’s belly button. “Cynical?” He hooked his fingers into Dan’s pants and briefs, tugging lightly. “Petty perhaps?”

Dan shuddered as Phil didn’t even skip a beat before yanking down the items of clothing. Phil had never seen Dan completely naked before and this was surely a treat. He licked his lips and was quick to grasp Dan’s dick completely, dropping his nose down and taking the whole thing at once.

“Poss-possessive!” Dan moaned, completing his own sentence and ignoring all of the things Phil had just said. “But…I kinda like it. It’s kinda…h-hot.”

Just then Phil choked on Dan’s twitching cock. It was growing gradually and he could feel Dan shudder beneath him as he hollowed out his cheeks around it.

Phil liked when Dan said those things to him. He needed it, especially after the couple days he’d had. He made sure to praise the younger boy for the words with his tongue.

Dan moaned obscenely and Phil’s stomach tightened. Dan was moaning because of him. Because of something Phil Lester was doing to him. He could feel his own member grow in anticipation and he decided the long and drawn out teasing sessions could wait. He wanted to be inside Dan as fast as possible. That is if Dan would have him.

“Can I…” Phil asked after popping off of Dan’s now swollen cock. “Can I fuck you, Dan?”

Dan’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when Phil asked. It seemed he wanted it just as much, if not more than Phil did. Phil smiled lovingly at Dan and slightly nudged Dan’s side in an effort to flip him over onto his stomach.

He took in the sight of the younger boy, ignoring the tiny little red splotches that covered his back and bum. He laughed to himself and then leaned down to kiss what looked like the softest and most kissable toosh.

“Lube is in the…drawer,” Dan muttered into the pillow his face was currently shoved in. Phil lightly bit at the spot he was kissing and then smiled as he licked at the little mark he had made. Dan moaned in delight when the older boy reached over for the drawer’s handle, pulling out the bottle from the drawer and placing it beside them. Phil reached down and pulled off his shirt, then unbuttoned his pants. He didn’t want the constraints of his jeans to hinder his erection while he stretched the compliant boy before him.

Phil popped the cap and coated his fingers with a fair amount, probably too much, of lube. He really didn’t want to hurt Dan and it would only get worse when the boy started actually feeling the symptoms of their little virus.

Delicately placing a finger against Dan’s entrance, he watched as Dan arched his back and pushed his bum up towards Phil and his bare chest. He wanted Dan so badly and he hoped that Dan wanted him too.

He plunged his finger into Dan’s ready hole, the walls feeling thick and warm, as he watched Dan’s mouth drop open. He started the thrusting process and with his other hand, he rubbed circles on Dan’s lower back.

It didn’t take long before Dan was mewling and begging for Phil’s cock. Dan was moaning louder than he had been the other night and it was clear that Phil’s fingers were doing a better job than Anthony’s.

“Phil, please…I need you. Please, I’m-” Dan gasped when Phil angled his fingers up and towards that special bundle of nerves that caused the younger boy’s thighs to shake and his hole to clench. Phil reached for the lube with his other hand as he asked Dan what he wanted again, this time with his finger right on Dan’s prostate. “I…Phil…p-please. F-f-fuck meee.”

Phil loved the way Dan begged him, this kind of behavior was a major turn on and it seemed that Dan had an abundance of it. He was loud in everyday life and in their videos so Phil should have expected this. But of course, it was much better than he could have ever imagined anyway.

Phil coated his cock with the lube and moaned deeply as he ran a hand over his aching member. He was so wrapped up in what Dan looked like that he had totally forgotten that his own cock was begging him for something more. He pulled out his slicked up fingers, with a verbal protest from Dan, and then he began to kiss at the hole he was just fingering. Dan just moaned when Phil licked inside, feeling the warm walls with his own tongue. He wanted to linger there for a while and make Dan lose it, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to be inside the whining boy.

He got up onto his knees and used his hands to angle Dan’s bum in the perfect direction. He lined him up perfectly before he pressed his tip teasingly against Dan’s throbbing hole.

“Do you want this cock, Dan?” He asked, receiving a very desperate knob. “Tell me you want this cock.”

“I w-want your cock, Phil…” he moaned, panting as he clawed at the bed sheets. “I want it so bad.”

“Good,” Phil bit his lip and began to push in just the tip. All the while, he was thinking about how strangely dominate he had become. He thought that maybe it was because he was trying to show Dan that Phil wanted him more than Anthony. Or maybe he was trying to prove how much he loved the younger boy by fucking him better. Perhaps he was trying to prove something to Dan, showing him a side that Phil had never revealed before.

Before he knew it, his cock was completely sheathed inside of his best friend’s ass. Dan’s eyes were teary and he was begging Phil with inaudible words. Somehow Phil understood though, getting the idea that Dan wanted him to start moving.

And that he did. He leaned over the boy in front of him and started to hump him like he’d never don’t before. He wrapped his arm around to Dan’s dangling cock and grabbed it, pumping and adding to the stimulus. He wanted Dan to feel him everywhere. Even once they were done.

“Oh Dan…you are so beautiful like this,” Phil praised, hoping that it would make Dan blush. Sure enough, Dan’s face went red from the exhaustion and the compliment, to which Phil just kissed his shoulder blade where he could see a little red dot. “I love you so much. Always have.”

Dan seemed to like those words and he let out a nearly intoxicating noise as Phil started thrusting deeper and faster. Now Phil was panting into Dan’s ear and he took note of maybe going on a few more runs. If Dan and Phil were going to start fucking like rabbits, he would need to build up his stamina.

Only a few minutes went by and Phil was getting close, his cock was twitching inside of Dan, his heart pounding in his chest. The beautiful boy beneath him was now releasing sounds that Phil had never heard before. Not through the walls of their flat or from Anthony’s bedroom. Dan was nearly gargling and there was drool pooling on the pillowcase. He was in absolute bliss. He looked so fucked out and Phil was terribly surprised he hadn’t come yet.

“Gonna-” Dan couldn’t even finish his declaration before Dan was coming all over Phil’s hand and his hole was clenching as his thighs spasmed. Phil lost control in that moment and came inside Dan immediately, his moan reaching Dan’s level of volume.

That’s when Dan fell to the bed and Phil’s cock slid out of him. The boy was completely in a trans which gave Phil a moment to breathe himself. He was recovering from fucking chicken pox. The fatigue was expected.

Phil then decided that his fatigue was nothing compared to the state that Dan looked to be in. He was dripping come from between his cheeks and his bed was now completely covered in jizz. Phil smiled as he looked down at the boy he had spent so little time with this week and asked the Universe what he had done to deserve this. To deserve Dan Howell.

He got up and ran to the bathroom to fetch a moist towel, then delicately cleaning off the various fluids on Dan’s body. He started on his neck, cleaning off the possible marks that Phil had kissed and licked. Then he moved down to clean between the boy’s bum cheeks. Dan hummed in approval and Phil flipped him over to clean his other side. Finally, Phil wiped off his cock and he threw the towel onto the floor. He could deal with that later. For now, Dan needed rest. Surely he would need it for what was about to hit him.

Phil knew from experience.

He stood and picked up the tired boy, surprised by his own strength, carrying him to Phil’s unmade bed. He placed him gently on the sheets and then stretched the duvet over Dan who was looking up at him with a sparkle in his eye that Phil felt blessed to be the object of. Phil moved quickly, grabbing two pairs of his own underwear and then dressing himself and Dan so that they weren’t both completely nude between the sheets when Phil climbed in alongside Dan.

Much like a child might, Dan immediately wrapped himself around Phil and Phil nearly melted when Dan’s warm figure coiled itself around Phil’s bare chest and legs. Dan looked so frail and soft and Phil still couldn’t believe that he had just had sex with the love of his life.

“Phil?” Dan muttered into Phil’s chest. Phil kissed the top of Dan’s sweaty forehead.

“Hm?”

“Im sorry,” Dan said softly, his eyes closed and his mouth moving against Phil’s slight patch of chest hair.

“No, I’m sorry, Dan. I was a really shitty friend. I shouldn’t have said the things I did,” Phil frowned, hoping Dan wouldn’t judge his character for it. “You had every right to have other relationships and I shouldn’t have gotten so jealous.”

Dan smirked and then looked up, a blush covering his face.

“No no…I’m not sorry about sleeping with-” he cut himself off, seeing Phil’s face change from sentimental to cross, abandoning his sentence and picking up a new one. “I meant, I’m sorry in advance for how much you’re going to have to do for me in the next couple days.”

Phil blinked and tried not to think about what Dan had just said about Anthony.

“I’m a bitch when I’m sick and since you’ve already had chicken pox, you can’t get it again. You’re the only one that can help make me soup and shit,” Dan whined, blinking endearingly up at Phil. Phil assumed it was because he knew what he said before hadn’t helped his case. When Phil just stared down at him, Dan rolled his eyes. “And I’m sorry for sleeping with Anthony. There, better?”

Phil smiled and pulled the younger boy closer.

“Much,” he answered. “Thank you.”

“But it’s not like this ever would have happened if I hadn’t…”

“Watch it…” Phil warned, biting his lip and narrowing his eyes. “We aren’t going to talk about it.”

“Just like we aren’t going to talk about how you liked me for EIGHT years and said nothing?” Dan joked, his voice quiet but still quite chipper. “Nothing at all!”

“I was scared!”

“Of what?” Dan laughed. “You know, when you told me you were in love with me, I left the room and stood there nearly cackling. I fucking knew it.”

Phil pushed the younger boy away from him for a moment to look at him. Dan’s eyes were crinkled on the side and his mouth was turned up in a smirk.

“I waited for so long, Phil! If you asked me, I would have said yes in a heartbeat,” he continued, his head shaking. “It’s funny how it took a boy from LA to make you speak up.”

Phil sighed and pulled Dan closer to his chest. He didn’t want to think about all the wasted time. Not right now. Not while they were both still living in a post-orgasm bubble.

“You know, you coulda made yourself more clear ya know…” Phil said, sighing and kissing Dan softly, over and over. As if he couldn’t express one kiss enough.

“I bought you flowers, Phil. Your favorite flowers. How did you miss that?” Dan argued, his voice raising but also breaking and he lowered it back down to a whisper.

“You sent them to your parents too! It wasn’t just me,” Phil claimed, his heart racing. He was sure that Dan could feel it from where his head was resting.

Dan laughed.

“No, Phil. God you’re so stupid…” Dan sighed. “I sent them to my parents after you said nothing for three days. That way it wasn’t awkward. I knew they would call and thank me so I had you answer it. It was all because you didn’t pick up on it in the first place!”

It was Phil’s turn to laugh and he sighed.

“Clearly we need to work on our mind reading skills.”

“Yeah. Maybe that’s why we suck at the bomb game.”

“Most likely.”

“Phil?” Dan said softly.

Phil kissed his forehead like it was some sort of drug to do so. “Hm?”

“I really do love you. You believe me, right?”

Phil thought for a moment. Did he believe his best friend? The one he had been pining and trying to romance for eight years? The one that has stuck by him for years and years, even though he’s a little strange? The one that he had fallen for the moment he met? The one that was lying in his arms and breathing slowly into his chest.

“Of course, Dan,” he answered. “And I love you too.”

“Good.” Dan said it like it was an obligation and not a choice. But wasn’t it? Wasn’t loving Dan obligatory? It was impossible not to love the boy, even when he was part of the reason they hadn’t been together all this time. “Because you’re gonna have to love me tomorrow when I need help distracting myself from the itch.”

“Ah, like you helped me?” Phil sassed, a his playful tone signaling that he didn’t really care. However, teasing Dan was kind of fun and he wasn’t going to let this go.

“Shut up! I said I was sorry!”

“Not for that.”

“Fine…” Dan kissed Phil’s chest softly. “I’m sorry.” His words sounded genuine and he planted another kiss on Phil’s chest. “Anything else?”

“Uhhhh…..” Phil pretended to think about it and Dan just kind of shoved him, letting out another sigh.

“Can we sleep now? I’m tired and I can feel a headache coming already…” Dan mumbled.

“Sure thing,” Phil agreed, his body already reacting with a yawn.

“Oh and Phil?”

“Hm?”

“This is forever, yeah?”

Phil blinked. Was Dan asking what he thought he was asking? So casually as well.

He didn’t want to hesitate so he just tightened his grasp on the sleepy boy and smiled.

“Yes, Love. This is forever.”

-

“Phiiiiiiiil!” Dan called from Phil’s bedroom, the sound of two oven mitts clapping together made Phil roll his eyes from the kitchen. “Where’s my soup? I’m hungry!”

“Three more minutes!” Phil replied, currently watching the soup on the stove.

“Three minuteees?” Dan whined, a surprisingly childish wail coming from his throat. “Can’t you make it any faster?”

Phil put down his stirring spoon and appeared in the doorway, smiling at the boy who was trying to scratch at his spots with the mitts.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Phil walked over and grabbed Dan’s hands. “No scratching.”

“How the hell did you do this? They itch so bad!” Dan complained, pulling Phil down on the bed with him. Phil shook his head and kissed at a couple of the little marks. It may not solve much, but it was better than the scratching.

“I was a bit distracted having a minor crisis,” Phil said, smiling fondly down at Dan’s puppy dog eyes. Dan just looked at his lap and sighed.

“I want one of those…”

“Trust me, you don’t,” Phil answered, getting up and going to the kitchen. “One minute!”

He collected the bowl of soup and brought it back to the bed where he pressed resume on their anime of the week. Dan decided that he would lie in bed all day with Phil while they watched anime and slurped soup. Phil sat behind Dan with the younger boy between his legs, pretending to be the arms for the both of them. He let Dan hold the bowl with his oven mitts and then he spoon fed the whiny boy until there was nothing left.

Yeah, Dan had chicken pox and maybe he was a spoiled brat when he was sick, but at least he was Phil’s spoiled brat.

He would never have said it before, but Phil was grateful for his terrible luck and those little red spots that-

“Dan! Stop scratching!”

“But Phiiiiiiiil…”

[netmaddy-blog]

The Top 5 Must Play RPGs for Every Video Game Console

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The Top 5 Must Play RPGs for Every Video Game Console

The gaming market is monstrous. Right now there are six consoles, three handhelds, and the ever present PC you can buy games for. That’s 10 different ways you can get your game on, so if you’re someone who doesn’t have the ways or means to buy all 10 platforms and every halfway decent game that arrives for any of them, you’re probably wondering which way you should go to get the most bang for your buck. I’m a bit of a gamer nerd, and so for you, I’ve collected the top five available games (in the stores now) for each console for each particular genre. Based on reviews, user comments, and my personal experience, these are the best ways to go.

This round: RPGs. The Japanese RPG market exploded in the 32-64 bit days, blowing out with a new game seemingly every week. You can blame Square for that one, bringing to the stores amazing game after amazing game, which immediately spurned every other company to release whatever dreck they could muster to keep you pumping money into their pockets. Nowadays there are hundreds of options out there, and the Japanese market isn’t the only one around. North American companies have their own answers to the RPG boom and now it’s a veritable flood of options. Here are the top five for each option you’ve got.

PlayStation 2 – The PlayStation brand name has been the home of quality RPGs since PS1 first rolled out with Suikoden and Final Fantasy games in the mid- the 90s. This list was hard because there are so many left off. Dark Cloud 2, Final Fantasy X, the Shin Megami Tensei games and much more deserve recognition, but alas these are also long as hell, so if you had more than 5, when would you ever finish them. You may notice I exclude the PS3, but I can’t really offer any PS3 RPGs for you until they’ve actually been created. We’re waiting.

1. Shadow Hearts Covenant – The Shadow Hearts series took on a serious following after this entry, one of the greatest RPG releases of the generation. It’s taken on the fantasy RPG genre blended into the realms of reality, bleeding over in church and demonology lore. Taking place in the 19th Century and following the legend of a young woman and her unfortunate destiny, it can be enjoyed alone or along with its predecessors Koudelka and Shadow Hearts (I).

2. Disgaea – This is probably the best strategy RPG released for any console ever. Released by Atlus, a brand name that has grown in and of itself of recent years to the respectability that names like Square and Level 5 now carry with their games, Disgaea is about the young prince of hell and his quest to regain his domain after being awoken. With more than 200 hours of gameplay here, count on playing for days on days. And it’s funnier than hell. These are great characters.

3. Suikoden III – The Suikoden series is the cult series. Of course, it’s slowly sliding out of cult status and into the mainstream with releases occurring every couple of years since this one. The best in the series with the possible exception of Suikoden II, Suikoden III tells the story of a huge cast of characters, all intricately entwined with one another. You play through the tale of their war, but as seen through the eyes of each character. Truly epic.

4. Final Fantasy XII – The newest release, released only two weeks before the PlayStation 3’s release, this game redefines the epic scope of prior Final Fantasies, literally reaching for the stars. Each character is fully realized and a part of the action, their story an intricate part of the game. There’s no fluff here, and the rebuild of the decades-old RPG formula was all for the better, working for the complete and total betterment of the game and hopefully the series.

5. DragonQuest VIII – Dragon Quest has always been huge in Japan, but only now did it find the same success here in the US. Dragon Quest VIII is the huge (extremely huge) result of Square Enix’s jump to full 3D glory in their series. The graphics are incredible, the characters hilarious and deeply involving, and the story arresting. The battles aren’t half bad either. And the usual monster catching glory is intact. A long game, it will keep you busy for days.

Gamecube (and Wii) – The Gamecube got shorted on the RPG options, much like its big brother the N64. Nintendo lost a lot of their clout with the RPG crowd when Squaresoft jumped ship in the 90s and they’re still trying to earn it back…so far to little success. But, the future looks bright, as Square Enix is finally producing games for the Big N, and Nintendo’s own work includes more forays into the RPG market. Here’s hoping for more, because the Wii is perfect for the format.

1. Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess – The newest Zelda adventure, Twilight Princess, is by far the best reason to own a Nintendo Wii. The game is a masterpiece on almost every level, to the point I’m almost willing to call it the greatest game ever made. We’ve heard this a lot, that this game is the greatest. That it surpasses what Ocarina accomplished 8 years ago. And as my own favorite game, it’s hard to ever put anything above Ocarina in terms of scope, depth, and innovation. No need to go into detail. Read my review of it here for more thoughts on why it’s so amazing.

2. Tales of Symphonia – The first really good RPG for the Gamecube, and still one of the only ones really. The newest entry in the hugely popular (in Japan) Tales saga, Symphonia was a huge, fun, well-told game. The characters were fun, the battle system is one of the best around, and the action was fully inclusive and crafted a long game. Symphonia was the Gamecube owning RPG fan’s one saving grace.

3. Skies of Arcadia Legends – Originally released for the Dreamcast, Skies of Arcadia was given a second life on the Gamecube, again fated to anonymity due to the failure of the console. This is a great game. It tells the story of two sky pirates who must traverse the sky ocean and save the world from a shattering war and so on. You attempt throughout the game to build your pirate rank and build up your ship. It was one of Dreamcast’s must have games and the same for Gamecube. Unfortunately so few actually had it, and now it’s not exactly easy to find.

4. Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker – The infamous Wind Waker. Nintendo’s foray into cell shading and the horrible foray into ocean mechanics. This game is still amazing. It’s Zelda after all, but it’s flawed on more than the basic levels. It’s hard to get around. The ocean is huge, and the game is short. But the parts you play, in between sailing around Hyrule are beautiful and incredibly fun.

5. Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door – The Big N rounds out the five with another in-house effort. Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door was a return to the Paper Mario fun they coined in the N64 days, this time around with the RPG elements the game seems to work best with. Incredibly easy yes, but fun as hell at the same time.

Xbox (and X360) – The Xbox, not surprisingly saw no Japanese development. Every game listed below was produced in English Speaking countries, mostly Canada actually. The style is noticeably different, but the quality is equally incredible. The strive for realism by Western developers can be seen in each of these entries. Although the lack of humor is equally as prescient.

1. Elderscrolls IV: Oblivion – The Xbox 360 has some serious horsepower. Not only is there room to spare, but the graphic output is insane at the time, and what better way to show this off than with an Elderscrolls game. Monstrous, huge worlds in which you can freely roam wherever you want and interact with your environment. This game is huge and intense. Hundreds of hours can be spent just wandering around and completing the main quest. As for getting the rest done. Who knows how long you could spend on there.

2. Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic – Star Wars games were starting to get a bad rap for a while until Bioware arrived with the first full-fledged Star Wars RPG. Built on the click and wait for the action of the D&D ruleset games, KOTOR was a brilliant game that took Star Wars fans back a few thousand years to the height of the Jedi/Sith wars. It also had one of the most surprising and amazing endings in any game..ever.

3. Elderscrolls III: Morrowind – And another Elder scrolls game. This one was equally as huge as its sequel and had just as amazing graphics for its time. Elderscrolls truly stretches the imagination in terms of open world RPG exploration and making a game that will take a long time to finish. A truly wonderful game.

4. Jade Empire – Set in a fictional ancient China, Jade Empire comes from the makers of Knights of the Old Republic, and while not nearly as large in scope or length, the game utilizes an array of different combat styles and elements that make it sheer fun to play. It’s shorter and simpler than the original games from Bioware, but they make up for it with the attention to detail and the battle system upgrades.

5. Fable – Touted as an amazing achievement in world interface, Fable turned out to be a little bit of a letdown. It was smaller, shorter, and less engaging than what was claimed, but it was still a solid, fun game to play. Starting as a bland adventure you could become either entirely good or entirely evil through the actions committed during a quest. The characters are generic, the quests forgettable, but the options given to play through them all are still fun. The ending, however, leaves something to be desired, and they could have done with a few more reasons to openly explore. For a sandbox RPG, it was surprisingly linear.

Game Boy Advance – Yup, no DS games. I imagine soon, with the release of the new Pokemon game, and the surprising announcement of Dragon Quest IX coming exclusively to the DS, the RPG options there will explode, but for now your best bet in the RPG realm on handhelds is with the Game Boy Advance. Here are a few of the best.

1. Golden Sun – It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not legendary. But, it’s good solid fun, and for the size and expectations o f a handheld console it’s still pretty fun. I enjoyed it for a few reasons. First off, the gameplay is top notch. The battle system is built around a simple premise and sticks with it, but it’s still fun. The story is nothing special but it reminded me a lot of the 8-bit glory days, keeping me involved without making it impossible to keep up when I have to turn the game off every 20 minutes. Solid play and go action

2. Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire – Pokemon has been around for almost 10 years now, a regular entry in the Gameboy RPG market, really the only entry in that market, and a damn good one. By the time this pair was released (the usual duplicate games with slightly different monsters in each), the same gameplay was reused a good four times and starting to get a little old, but it’s still sound gameplay, and who doesn’t like to collect as much of something as they can. I’m older yes, but I still enjoy the mindless capture and battle system of Pokemon. It’s cathartically simple.

3. Final Fantasy IV – It’s technically a port, but a damn good port at that. I loved this game back in the days on the SNES and the idea to bring the 16-bit Final Fantasies to the GBA made me as happy as can be. This was a game I love to play, but feel goofy loading into my PS2 and sitting down to play. It’s a perfect bus play, and it plays just as great as in 1992. The classic tale of Cecil and the Red Knights never fails to capture my attention from start to finish. Of course, when Final Fantasy VI is released, I might have to replace this with that one, as we all know that VI is the greatest of them all.

4. Riviera: The Promised Land – Atlus has been bashing the PS2 market with top notch games for three plus years now, with their fantastic strategy and alchemy RPG games. They bring Riviera to the GBA with the same pedigree, a solid RPG that plays to the GBA’s strengths as well as any. It’s essentially a screen to screen game. You don’t control your surroundings so much as go from page to page within them, but the battle system is amazing and the different options and acquires immense. The story, like any Atlus game, is the real selling point and actually got me to play through it twice.

5. Final Fantasy Tactics – The portable version of the PSone classic has sucked more time from my life than any GBA game I’ve ever played. The 300+ missions are each 30-60 minutes long and the customization options equal length. This is a long game with a lot of gameplay and a fun little story. You’re Marche, you’ve been sucked into a book into the magical land of Ivalice and now you are a knight. Go!

PlayStation Portable – When the PSP first released fanboys dreamed of amazing ports that would bring their favorite games now out of print back to life in handheld format. At least one made the leap, but for the most part, RPG development on the PSP has been lackluster, and while Japan gets the Suikoden I and II pack and promises of Final Fantasies, we wait for a decent anything to play. Final Fantasy compilation anyone? Anyone at all?

1. Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth – One of the most sought after games from the PSone days, Valkyrie Profile was an amazing RPG that no one played and then no one could play as it was out of print. Ranging from $100 and up on eBay, the promise of a re-release for the PSP was a godsend for fans out there always interested but too poor to afford it. It’s a solid game at that. With rebuilt cinematics and PSP controls, this entry leads into the new PS2 game wonderfully and finally lets the rest of us play through Lenneth’s adventure.

2. Monster Hunter Freedom – Never a real big fan of the Monster Hunter games, I can still see their draw. You go and you hunt monsters. Simple as that. There’s little to hold you up, and there’s online play. It’s like Pokemon without the pesky storyline or purpose.

3. Ys: The Ark of Napishtim – A port of a port. This was originally released for the PS2 and before that, the PC, and has been watered down in between. The same classic Ys gameplay is intact, overland map, onscreen battles and fun little characters in a charming, if simple story. It’s good solid fun for a portable and tells a decent story. Even if the controls are a little broken.

4. Untold Legends: Brotherhood of the Blade – One of the launch releases with the PSP, Untold Legends is an overhead hack and slash RPG without a conscious. It doesn’t strive for amazing storyline or gameplay, just simple hack and slashes glory and it does it pretty well. It was fun because it was simple, made in a very short development cycle from the time the PSP was announced. Oddly enough, though, the sequel was nearly as good.

5. Tales of Eternia – Alright, technically it still hasn’t been released in America, but you can import it from Europe and play the English language version (or Japan if you speak Japanese). But, it’s a tales game, a pretty good one at that. Technically it has been released here too, as Tales of Destiny 2 in 2000. Unfortunately, it got completely ignored as the gaming world moved on to the PS2. This is a great game though and perfect for the PSP. Complete and intact are the great Tales battle system and one of the better Tales plots. Saving the world from the Great War was never quite so fun as in this one.

PC -The PC has always been a home for the more hardcore of gamers. The cost of constant upgrades and intensity of a PC game are legendary, and only the most hardcore amongst us are capable of keeping up. Accordingly, the games below match that mindset, though more than one of these games managed to break free of the limitations and become monstrous worldwide phenomena. I’m looking at you Blizzard.

1. World of Warcraft – Okay, so duh right? Well, some of you are probably palpitating over my choosing this above some other MMORPG, but too bad. Everyone plays this one, including myself and it’s just plain fun. Having spent hours of my life in this game and knowing that I can go back whenever I want without fear of being destroyed because of the MMORPG laws of survival (never leave), this is a great pick up and play a game in a genre where that almost never exists. Huge, tons to do, and always fun even when you’re grinding, WoW is still the best.

2. Baldur’s Gate 2: Shadows of Amn – The Baldur’s Gate games are some of the best RPGs to come out of the PC age of D&D ruleset RPGs. It’s big, it’s long, it’s fun as hell. The challenge of figuring out what to do, how to upgrade your characters and make the game the most it can be were always the number one reasons to play these. The story is pretty awesome too. Don’t forget the Dragon. That dragon is a bitch.

3. Diablo II – Diablo II stole my entire summer my sophomore year of high school. This game was amazing. It took everything Diablo did and blew it up times ten. The ability to find and receive unique weapons that 1000 of your friends would never find kept you playing over and over again. And it was simple. Click, click, right click. F1. That’s it. Nothing to it. And when you finally unlocked the Cow level, then you were the true God of Diablo.

4. Elderscrolls IV: Oblivion – Many of you probably can’t even play this yet. I still can’t. I only know of it because I have a friend who upgrades his computer ever three weeks seemingly. This game is a beast of the highest order, demanding a lot from your system but delivering even more. Monstrous, huge worlds in which you can freely roam wherever you want and interact with your environment. This game is huge and intense. Hundreds of hours can be spent just wandering around and completing the main quest. As for getting the rest done. Who knows how long you could spend on there.

5. Neverwinter Nights – Another D&D ruleset game, but one of the best no less. It’s huge, monstrously huge. And tack on the expansions and you’ve got 200+ hours of action to play through. The biggest seller on this one though was the ability to craft and write your own adventures as a DM with the toolsets and host them online, ala D&D, but with graphics. The sequel doesn’t quite hold up to the original, but still, carries the same weight and fun factor.

I’m a self-avowed unemployed writer, working on a semi-constant basis to try and overcome the need to go and work a real job.