#give me a guy who sees a therapist and is extremely well adjusted

[whatyoutaughtwasfear]

would love to read a crime novel where the main detective

a) has a positive relationship with their romantic partner

b) doesnt have a drug addiction

and c) has a healthy work/life balance and gets enough sleep

they're just normal. they're probably bad at their job

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [5/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: I am so glad people are enjoying this so far! I am having a great time writing it, and I am excited about the chapters that are yet to come. I’d love if you let me know what you think of this new chapter, but no pressure, enjoy!!

The next morning, as all the other transfers ran laps, you made your way to the infirmary for physical therapy. When you got there, the doctor who had stitched you up the day before waved at you in greeting. “Hello, Y/N, how is the leg doing?”

“Better than yesterday,” you replied with a small smile. 

“Glad to hear it,” she replied. “You’ll be working with Andre today, he’s one of our physical therapists,” she said and pointed to Andre, who was standing a few feet away and waved. 

“Alright, thanks,” you said and started walking towards Andre. “Nice to meet you,” you said and stuck out your hand.

“Likewise,” Andre said and shook your outstretched hand. “So the program I have designed for you focuses more on keeping your leg muscles engaged without running the risk of tearing your stitches open more than recovery because the injury is serious but ultimately, it is just a deep laceration.” You nodded in understanding, and he led you over to a stationary bike. “For the next half hour, you are going to ride this bike. I want you to work your leg muscles and cardio system, but do not put more strain on your legs than necessary, the last thing I want is to tear those stitches or for your leg to start bleeding. Here is a set of headphones that hook up to the bike’s electronic system; I know riding a stationary bike for half an hour can get boring, so feel free to listen to music while you work. I’ll come get you in half an hour, but you can call me over at any point.”

“Sounds good, thanks,” you said before getting on the bike and connecting the headphones to browse the music selection for a little while before settling on an upbeat song with a strong bass beat. Then you got to pedaling. 

--

You were sweating--not as much as you did during regular training, but you were still getting a good workout in--when the thirty minutes ended. Andre walked over to you and helped you get off the bike, and it took you a second to adjust to the solid ground beneath your feet. “Good job,” Andre said. “It really seemed like you were pushing yourself while still respecting the boundaries set by the injury. That’s smart, if you keep this up, you’ll probably heal quickly. Most dauntless go all out and reinjure themselves, so it takes even longer to heal. But I see you have some brains, a good quality for future dauntless.”

“Thanks,” you beamed at him.

“Y/N,” someone said, waving you over from the entrance of the infirmary. You turned to see Four standing there, and you furrowed your brow; you were supposed to be at physical therapy for another half hour before going back to the training room. 

“What’s going on?” you asked as you walked over to him, Andre right behind you.

“Eric changed the plan, we are working with crossbows today instead of fighting, and since you can participate in this, I came to get you while he explains what's going on to the other initiates,” he explained. “Although, perhaps leaving them alone with him wasn’t the best idea,” he said, half-joking, earning a smile from you. 

“Alright, let’s go then. I’ll see you next time, Andre,” you said to the physical therapist as Four walked with you back to the training room. “So… what’s up,” you said to fill the awkward silence that settled between you and Four as you two walked. He looked at you, amused. 

“Oh, you know. Training initiates.” You laughed at his bluntness. 

“Right,” you chuckled. “So, why did Eric change the plan?” you asked cautiously.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Four shrugged. “Though I suspect it has to do with the fact that he’s particularly… grumpy today, and he probably wants to shoot arrows at someone.”

“Well, that does sound like a very real possibility,” you agreed, and the two of you reached the training room to see Eric walking up and down the line of initiates holding crossbows and aiming at targets, aggressively yanking them into the correct positions, yelling all the while.

“Finally,” he snapped as you picked up a bow and walked to the end of the line, lining yourself up with the target. You closed your eyes to prevent yourself from rolling them at his comment while he continued roughly moving arms and legs of different initiates, sometimes making them wince in shock, surprise at the force, pain, or all three. When he got to Tris, who was right next to you, he looked her up and down, moved her arms, and said “Back straight, initiate! With that posture, you’ll shoot yourself in the foot, assuming you even get the arrow out of the crossbow!” He waited for a second for her to move, but he quickly became frustrated and yelled to Four, “Four, you deal with this one, I’m going to catch Y/N up, since she has finally graced us with her presence,” he said sarcastically. Tris made eye contact with you, and you knew she was wishing you luck, making you smile a bit. 

“Alright,” Eric said, turning to you. Turn sideways, aim down the line, legs shoulder distance apart. Don’t lock the knees, but stand straight. Non-dominant arm straight, other arm pulls the string back once the arrow is notched, pulling with the middle three fingers. Pull the string all the way back to your ear, look down the line, and shoot. Go,” he said, stepping back and watching with crossed arms. You took the stance Eric had described as well as possible, and Eric’s hands landed on your hips, turning them just the slightest bit. Then, as quickly as they had landed there, they were gone. “Same thing as with the punch, initiate. The angle of your hips matters; it’s where your legs and torso connect, so there’s a lot of power there. You can use your core to help your arm pull the string back further, allowing you to aim better and send a more forceful arrow.” You nodded, notching an arrow, pulling back, and looking down the arrow towards the target. Without hesitation, you released, and the arrow landed mere millimeters from the bull’s eye. “Good,” Eric nodded, walking away. 

As you reached for the next arrow, Tris said, “What the hell just happened?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“Eric. He made us run fifty laps, then he changed up the plan and told us all to take an archery stance. Then, he walked up and down the line, pushing and pulling people into the right positions--I think he almost sprained Al’s shoulder! And then, just now, he just… what, turned your hips? No yanking or bending at unnatural angles or anything!”

“It’s probably just because I got injured yesterday and he doesn’t want to reopen the wound,” you shrugged. 

“Maybe,” Tris said with a sigh. “But still, that was… weird.”

“As opposed to the way Four helped you?” you countered, and she blushed. If she thought you hadn’t noticed the way Four had helped her by taking a softer approach than Eric, she was in for a surprise.

“It’s better to try and get into a position you have a hard time with when you exhale,” she defended, knowing you’d heard Four’s suggestion of a quick breathing exercise. 

“I know,” you smirked. 

“Ugh, let’s just get back to shooting,” she said, and you laughed.

“You two, shut up and get shooting,” Eric’s voice called out, quieting your laughter and causing both Tris and yourself to fall silent. You both made eye contact though, took aim, and released your arrows at the same time, each sending a swift arrow into the center of your respective targets, pride for both yourself and your friend rising inside of you.

“Ten more minutes,” Four called out. “After that, you will retrieve your arrows, put your equipment away, and get to lunch. So give it your all!” 

You took a deep breath, and each arrow you shot for the next ten minutes was aimed with extreme precision, resulting in a pretty crowded center of the target when Four called for everyone to stop. It also made the job of retrieving arrows easier since they were all in one area, which you were grateful for as you pulled each one out of the target. 

As you and Tris walked over to the storage cabinets to put your bow and arrows away, Will and Christina jogged over to you guys, having already put their stuff away. “How was physical therapy this morning, Y/N,” Will asked as he came to a stop. 

“It was good,” you replied, “I just rode a stationary bike so I could get a cardio workout and engage my leg muscles as well as my core in a more controlled setting.”

“That makes sense,” he nodded in approval. “I’m glad it went well. The rest of us had to run around here fifty times!”

“So I heard,” you said, still surprised at the number of laps your friends had run that morning. “And this one here,” he put an arm around Christina’s shoulders, “was one of the first people to finish!”

“Congratulations!” you said with a smile to Christina. She had set a goal for herself to improve her cardio, and it would seem she had reached it. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, blushing slightly at the contact with Will. “So, wanna get out of here and grab some lunch?”

“That sounds great to me,” you nodded, ready to go. 

“Y/N,” Eric said loudly from across the room as he strode towards you and your friends. 

“Yes?”

“Before you go, I want to take a look at your leg; there’s a first-aid kit in here and I want to see if it needs cleaning seeing as you sweat earlier. The last thing I need to deal with is an infection.”

“Alright,” you said and walked over to the bench, your friends following you. You rolled up the leg of your sweatpants, and thankfully, the wound didn’t look too irritated. 

Nodding, Eric said, “It looks good, but make sure to clean it well later. Use soap and water, and halfway through the day or between workouts, I would recommend disinfecting it.”

“Is there anything I can use now? Just to be safe?” He nodded and grabbed the first aid kit from a shelf on the wall, opened it up, and grabbed a hydrogen peroxide wipe. 

“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “There is also some cream here which you’ll be glad to have once you feel the sting of that wipe,” he said, handing you some ointment. 

“Thanks,” you said as you ripped open the hydrogen peroxide wipe and cleaned the wound. 

You hissed as it stung, and Eric sounded further when he said, “Told you,” since he was putting the kit back. You grunted in acknowledgement, and after wiping the area down, you put some of the ointment on, which was a much nicer way of keeping the area clean. Then, you rolled down your pant leg, stood, and made to toss the ointment back to Eric, but before you could, he said “Keep it.”

“Thanks,” you said, surprised as you pocketed it. Eric simply nodded. 

“Now get out of here,” he said, “go eat lunch.” And with that, you were swept out of the training room by your friends. 

--

“So, we missed you at dinner last night,” Christina said as you and your friends sat down at a table in the dining hall. “Although I totally get that you had other things to worry about. You did get to eat though, right? We wanted to save you some food, but it was pasta night, and everyone had to fight just to get their fair share.”

“That’s sweet of you guys,” you said. “Four tried to do the same thing, but he was too late. “Luckily, Eric had a backup plan.” 

“Oh my god, did you eat dinner with Eric?” Tris whisper-yelled, making eye contact with Christina, whose jaw was hanging open. 

“Yeah, last night was a lot. I waited in his apartment while he got me some sweatpants, which are really comfy, and then he got back and made ‘low-carb enchiladas’ for dinner.”

“Of course they’d be low-carb, Will said, rolling his eyes.”

“Were they good?” Christina asked.

“They were so good,” you nodded. 

“How was the company?” Tris asked.

“Honestly it was fine. I think that the fact that we didn’t talk because we were both tired prevented an argument from breaking out.”

“That’s good,” Christina said. “I’m glad he wasn’t completely horrible to you after you’d just gotten hurt. Although, I have to ask, why wasn’t he completely horrible to you today? I didn’t think he’d have that long of a ‘grace period’ after injuries.”

“He probably didn’t want to reopen the wound,” you said, repeating what you’d said to Tris earlier. “Why are you guys so interested in him?”

“Because he is the scariest person here, and he just gave you some ointment for your leg, which is the exact opposite of what it seems like he would do!” Will said. 

“You do have a point,” you admitted. “Look, I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. Besides, we still have to talk about the way Four keeps eyeing Tris,” you said, smirking evilly as you turned the attention away from yourself, launching a new line of questioning, this time aimed at your friend.

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny​, @parabatai-winchester​, @marvel-ousnesss​, @kid-from-new-zealand​, @polychr0matic​

[jadedxrealityw]

-Jealousy- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

      Kody: *Cries in out of ideas of stories*

     Summary: Even though you have feelings for Draco, he starts to get insufferably protective and jealous, which ends in a fight.

     Warning: Cursing, Draco being a jealous baby, Blaise being annoyed with life.

     House: Slytherin

     ♡~🐍~♡

     ♡~🐍~♡

     You had been friends with Draco since you both got sorted into the Slytherin house, you both shared similar problems like controlling parents. You listened to his problems and he listened to yours. Around your third year is when you developed feelings for the young Malfoy. You tried your damned hardest to shut them out, but they just got stronger with every soothing word, small touch, or warm embrace.

     At one point, you started to hate yourself. Why did it have to be your best friend? Someone who only had platonic feelings for you. You watched him go out with a bunch of girls, each taking a piece of your heart with them. Holding it above your head while you reached for it like a child. You always got it back, but it was tattered and torn. 

     The only person who knew about your crush was Blaise, only because he said it was so obvious that even Ron Weasley could of guessed it. He promised not to tell and would comfort you when Draco had a new girl around. Blaise started to develop a  slight hatred for his mate, only because he was dumb as hell for not noticing your feelings.

     Little did you and Blaise know was that Draco Malfoy was indeed just as in love with you as you were him. See noticed you differently when you two started your fourth year. The subtle changes to your face and body made his heart skip a beat. All he wanted was to wake up next you every morning, but you just never seemed interested in him romantically. So he tried to get rid of his feelings, go out with random girls for a couple weeks hoping his feelings would fade out, but they never did.

     Seventh year is when Draco started to become more possessive over You.  

     ♡~🐍~♡

     You were sitting in the great hall eating breakfast. You felt someone tap your shoulder making you turn your body to look behind you “Fred, George? Need something?” you ask. The twins nod in unison before George speaks up “Indeed Princess, we were wondering if you could help us move some boxes from the room of requirement later?” You shrug, thinking there was no problem since you didn’t have anything to do.

     “Yeah sure-” “Actually she’s helping me with my potions essay all afternoon, sorry not sorry Weasley’s” A low voice came from your left. You look at Draco confusingly “Oh i must have forgot?” You say, thinking you had genuinely forgotten about a meetup you two had planned. You tear your gaze from the blond Slytherin and towards the Weasley’s “Sorry guys, i’ll help you next time, K?” “Of course Princess” and with that they left to the Gryffindor table.

     “Sorry about our meetup Draco, it must have slipped my mind” You give him a nervous smile and he just shakes his head “It’s quite alright” he replies, giving you his warm smile. It makes your face flush and you turn back to your plate to continue eating.

    ♡~🐍~♡

     Walking out the courtyard you took a look around for Draco and Blaise, but they weren’t there yet. You didn’t mind and went to go sit on one of the benches, placing your bag next to you. You tapped your feet against the ground, when a quaffle hit your leg. You let out squeak and turned to see a group of Hufflepuff boys laughing. You rolled your eyes and leant down to pick up the Quaffle. You were about to throw it when one Hufflepuff pushed through them. Cedric.

     “Y/n!, I’m so sorry. These guys are idiots!” He gestured to his friends. You watched as his eyes trailed down to your leg to see the forming bruise from the Quaffle “Can i take a look? I won’t do anything weird, i promise” he smiles and you slowly put the quaffle down that you had been ready to throw and hesitantly nod. Cedric walks over to you and crouches down, he grabs your ankle and lifts your leg.

     You watch as he pulls out his wand, he points it towards your bruise “Episkey” and watch as it disappears. Cedric looks up at you with a smile “What the hell are you doing, Diggory?” a voice snapped from behind Cedric. He lets go of your leg and stands up straight “My friends hit her with a Quaffle, i was just helping-” “They what!?” Draco exclaimed and rushed towards you.

     Draco grabbed your face and examined it for any sign of harm. Your face turned a light shade of pink as your heartbeat quickened. “Are you okay?!” “Draco im fine, Cedric helped me” you explain and he sighs in relief. He puts a hand under your thighs and picks you up bridal style. “Draco i can walk!” You queak and hide your face in his chest out of embarrassment. “Can’t ever be too sure” he claims and starts to walk away with you.

     Cedric and Blaise watch Draco walk away with you “Do they like each other?” Cedric asked making Blaise nod “It’s obvious isn’t it?” he asked “Painfully” Cedric sighed as he went back over to his friends. 

     ♡~🐍~♡

      It went on like that for weeks. If you were near a guy, boom Draco was there to keep you away or shut them down. It was annoying. You were aloud to have guy friends. It started to piss you off and unfortunately for Draco, today was the last straw. You were in Blaise’s dorm laying on his bed and talking about how you were in love with him.

     Pansy Parkinson had been flirting with him at lunch and he seemed to not care and flirt back. It made you extremely upset so after lunch Blaise took you to his room to cheer you up. “Do you think i’m stupid?” You ask, making Blaise laugh in confusion “No, why do you ask that?” “Because i’m in love with a guy i can’t have” you reply.

     Blaise smiles sadly and pats your shoulder. Blaise wanted nothing more to tell you that Draco had came to him with the same problems, but he promised both of you not to tell. So he was stuck in the middle. You hold out your arms and he chuckles before hugging you tightly “Best big brother ever” “I’m not your brother” he chuckles “Your as good as one” “That’s true”

     You both heard the door open “Zabini, do you have my potions- What the bloody hell is this!” Blaise lets go of you and you sit up from the bed “Draco, calm down” Blaise rolls his eyes “Me, clam down?! Oh i see it now. I come to you for advice on Y/n, you tell me it’ll be fine so you can screw her?!” Your eyes widened at his words “Mate, there’s a lot wrong with what you just said” Blaise shakes his head then points to you “Me, screw Y/n? Ew man”

     You gag at the thought and make a face of disgust “I just called him my brother. I think i’m going to be sick” you cover your mouth. “Your a liar Zabini!” Draco yelled as he got in his face. Blaise shakes his head and stands up “I’ll leave you two to talk about your feelings, cause i’m tired of being a therapist to both of you” Blaise smiles and walks out the room, closing the door.

     You sat against the headboard of the bed. Draco looked at you before sitting down on the bed as well. You were fuming with anger, how could he think his best friend would betray him like that “You’ve been a real asshole lately” he looked at you in confusion “What?” “You heard me. What is with you?! Every guy im with, you lose your shit!” You snapped. Draco rolled his eyes “I’m your friend! You don’t need any other guy other than me!” he retorted.

     You laugh bitterly “Do you hear yourself Draco! Im allowed to have other guy friends than you!” you shout, taking a pillow from Blaises bed and throw it at him. He dodges it “Why do you always go to them?! Why can’t i be the one you go too. I used to be the only person you talk to!” You noticed the hurt in his eyes as he spoke “Draco, your not my father, boyfriend or whatever! I’ll talk to who i want when i want!” you stand up on the bed to look down at him.

     “Why are you acting like this, Draco?” You watched as his face softened “Because since fourth year i’ve been so hopelessly in love with you, that the thought of you with another guy makes me want to snap” You blink a couple times and in an angered state you grabbed a pillow and began hitting him with it “You. Idiot. That’s. No. Excuse!” Draco held his hands up “This is not what i was expecting! I thought you’d feel the same!” Draco yelled as he ran around blaises room.

     You chased him, still hitting him with the pillow “I do, but your such a fucking idiot! Being suffocating is not cute!” you said and he nodded vigorously “Okay!- Wait you love me?” You saw a smile form on his face, before you hit him again. He grabs the pillow and snatches it from you “Y/n, im sorry” he says out of breath from running. You pant as well before leaning your head against his chest “Me too- for beating you with a pillow”

     Draco laughed softly and reaches his hand up to your face, pulling your head from his chest so you were looking at him “Let me prove to you i can be better?” he asked. You could hear the pleading tone in his voice, you sigh and nod slowly “Okay, but i swear to god if Pansy tries to kiss you i’ll actually murder her” Draco grins as his other hand grips your waist “My lips belong to you my love” he said in a sultry tone, making a shiver run up your spine.

     You look away, hearing a low chuckle come from the Slytherin boy. “Only if you’ll have them of course” he teased. You grin to yourself before running a hand up his chest. You could hear him inhale sharply before you wrapped his tie around his hand, pulling him in for a kiss. Draco wasted no time to kiss you pulling at your clothes desperately to keep you near. 

     You both were so lost in the blissful of your heated exchange that you didn’t hear the door open “Oh what the hell, not in my room guys!” a very disgusted Blaise said from the doorway. You both pull away and break apart from each other. You both started fixing your clothes with flustered expressions “S-Sorry” You stuttered out. Draco adjusted his tie and reached over to grab your hand

      “Well, we’ll be going now” Draco rushes out the room and past Blaise. You laughed as you two ran out the common room and down the halls. You both stop in a random hallway. Both of you were laughing and it took a bit to calm down. “I have one thing to thank for today” Draco raised a brow “What?”

     “Your crazy Jealousy”

    ♡~🐍~♡

     Kody: End me right now i’m so tired

[oboevallis]

runaway

hey it’s been a hot minute, not really sure what this is ive have it in my drafts for a while, but i feel like everyone’s written this 😂 but i wanted to post something at least also ‘who is he?’ part 4 will be coming out soon hope everyone’s doing well

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?” Amelia’s voice wavered as she struggled to keep her composure.

“I didn’t sleep with her!” Link exclaimed, slurring his words. “I just stayed with her.”

“Whenever something goes wrong between us you always go running to Jo. Just get it over with and fuck her already! She’ll be all the things I’m not.”

“You have no right to be mad. I poured my heart out to you, I’ve been planning for months on proposing to you. I love you Amelia Shepherd, but your so damn self destructive you’re ruining this for the both of us. I’ve done everything you’ve wanted this is just one thing I wanted. If anything I should be mad, but I’m being the bigger person.”

“You’re being the bigger person?” Amelia chuckled in disbelief. “Talk to me again when you’re sober.”

“Who said I wasn’t sober?”

“Please, part of Jo’s help sessions always result in the two of you downing a bottle of whiskey, which is an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism.” As she said this she was aggressively packing her clothes in a suitcase.

“Not everyone’s a fucking alcoholic. Not everyone has to sit an a room with fucked up strangers complaining about their lives, when they did that to themselves.”

“You think I wanted to be snorting oxy off of the reception desk of a medical practice while I’ll my friends watched? Or stealing my brothers car and crashing it trying to find drugs? I thought you were different but you’re just like Owen.” That’s the last thing she said before walking into their sons nursery and scooping with up.

“You can’t take Scout.”

“I can because you’re drunk out of your mind, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Amelia yelled before slamming the door behind her. She fought to get the baby in his car seat, she couldn’t seem to catch a break. She needed to get away, she needed to go back to her original refuge.

“Come on Scout, can we cooperate for mommy?” Amelia begged, fighting off tears as her son kicked and screamed. Despite being a movement baby he hated the car, specifically the car seat since no one could hold him. Eventually the baby was secured, and he quickly fell asleep, as he realized how he exhausted himself after his tantrum. Three hours into the drive Amelia immediately started to regret this, it was a 17 hour drive, and she was doing it alone with a baby who just barely turned one. No, she was doing this, she needed to. She’d be sure to take as many breaks as she needed. This was what needed to be done for her and her sons well-being.

After two hotel visits and countless stops along I-5 S she found herself in LA standing outside her sisters door, but couldn’t bring herself to knock. She knew Addison loved her but she couldn’t help already feeling the subtle condescension. ‘How have you already managed to screw this up?’ ‘I love you Amy, I do, but isn’t this a little extreme?’ ‘You’re clean, right? Because I’ll take you back right this minute’

Quickly she turned around to go back to her car to think about her next game plan before a voice stopped her.

“Amy?” Amelia jerked back around to be met with Addison’s confused yet comforting smile.

“Umm I’m vaccinated, but I got tested if that makes you more comfortable. I’m negative I-I just needed to get put of Seattle.”

“I know the feeling.” The older woman chuckled holding the door open wider to allow the two to come in. “Now let me hold my new nephew!” She squealed as she held her arms out for the baby, soaking in his tiny stature. “I miss when Henry was this little.”

“Where is the little guy? It’s awfully quiet.”

“They went camping, Henry’s been stir crazy for over a year and it seemed safe enough for the two to go away.”

“I’m sure Jake was thrilled.” Amelia smirked thinking back to the time the practice went on a camping trip together and Jake had almost refused to go hence his disdain for the wilderness.

“You know it.” Addison joked along, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers. The older woman then lead the way back onto the deck and settled on a lounge chair under an umbrella. Amelia followed behind and took out sunscreen from the diaper bag she was sure to pick up once they got to LA. “He’s absolutely adorable Amelia.”

“Thanks.” Amelia smiled as she lathered the baby’s extremities with sunscreen.

“Gosh i just want to eat him up.” Addison pretended to bite into him, causing the baby to shriek with laughter. Cracking the first genuine smile the neurosurgeon had since after Maggie’s wedding. “You know I was talking to Charlotte a little while ago and she mentioned she was going to go to a meeting if you want to go meet up with her, she still goes to the one near the pier.”

“Thank you, Addison.” It now felt silly to have been scared to talk to Addison, she always knew how to help the neurosurgeon. “Are you sure you’re okay to watch him?”

“More than okay.” Addison beamed, running her hand through the baby’s hair. “And even if you stayed I still wouldn’t let this little guy go.”

“I love you Addie.”

“Love you too Amy.” Addison assured as the woman walked out to her car, it’d be a lie if she said she wasn’t worried for her little sister. But she was reaching out for help, she wasn’t sure what the issue was but she was immensely proud she came to her and not a baggie of pills.

_______________________________________

“Don’t you think you should call her?” Jo asked as she prepared a bottle for Luna.

“No.” Link coldly said, cradling the baby in his arms.

“At least for Scout’s sake?”

“He’s fine, looking back Amelias made it very clear she’s the only parent that matters or gets a say.” Link bitterly replied.

“I’m sure it isn’t like that.” As much as she loved her dear friend, he couldn’t see where he also went wrong in this situation. “She loves you.”

“Not enough to marry me.”

“She isn’t ready.”

“Her and Hunt were off and on, and she accepted his proposal.”

“First off she had a brain tumor, and because of said brain tumor she impulsively asked him to marry her. She thinks clearly now, and I think she just wants it to work out and be right.” Jo turned around and sighed as she saw her friends annoyed look. “You’ve never been a marriage guy, where is this even coming from?”

“I don’t know it just feels right, i don’t want to lose her.”

“Your gonna lose her if you push her into this.”

“I move mountains for her, I’ve adjusted my whole life for her. It’s just one thing, one thing that I want.”

“Link are you stupid? This isn’t fighting over what couch you get this determines the rest of your life. And marriage isn’t all that, it doesn’t keep a person there.” Jo sighed, since adopting Luna she’d been thinking a lot about her ex husband, and how stupid the concept of marriage was.

________________________________________

“Has he called?” Addison cautiously asked as Amelia fed her baby.

“Nope.” Amelia popped the ‘p’. “I get that he hates me now, but I thought he’d at least check in on Scout.”

“He’s just upset.”

“I know, I just thought he understood. He’s nothing like Owen but since we moved into his apartment I just feel suffocated like I did when we were married.”

“Have you tried talking to someone, professionally?” Addison inquired, leaning further back onto the beach chair.

“What so they can silently judge how I have a perfect life but still feel terrible?”

“Amy, you know a therapist isn’t going to think that, their there to help you without judgement.” She stared at the woman for awhile until she came to a realization. “After Scout was born you didn’t have any postpartum appointments did you?”

“No, the world had shut down a week after he was born.” Amelia confirmed.

“Do you think your having a delayed postpartum depression reaction? I mean you were thrown into taking care of a newborn and three other kids who aren’t yours in complete isolation . Then On top of that you didn’t have time to grieve Christopher. It’s difficult on women who have lost a child previously when they bring home a healthy baby.” Amelia held back her tears, as much as she tried to focus on scout she couldn’t help but feel broken over the fact Christopher didn’t have the opportunities scout has.

“Pre-covid a day wouldn’t go by that I didn’t think of Christopher. Then I just got so caught up in everything, and I’d barely think about him. I mean I almost forgot his birthday.”

“You can’t feel guilty about that.”

“I j-just wish Link would get that I don’t want another baby.I mean he’s ten times more understanding than Owen was about my grief but, I just don’t want another baby.”

“You’re allowed to not want another baby, but do you think it has to do with Christopher?”

“I don’t think so, I just can’t love yet another person without losing myself. It feels like I already have, I don’t recognize anything about me. Surgery doesn’t even give me the thrill it use to.” The older women sat up and placed a reassuring hand on the younger ones knee.

“I’m gonna talk to Violet and have her refer someone to you. Then you’re gonna talk to Link and come up with a game plan. And I’m gonna be right here the whole time, you’re my family. Everyone here is your family we’ve got you.”

[misscrawfords]

Siiiiiiiiiiigh

Prefacing this with saying that I know that I have a problem and I am going to try to get another therapist to try to help me deal with it better as I wasn't really making progress in this area with the previous one.

A friend (who I haven't seen in like 8 years so basically just an Instagram mutual at this point) got me in touch with a guy she met on a dating website who wasn't for her thought I might like.

You all know how much I hate and don't get on with and feel crushingly anxious about internet dating. But I thought I should at least try again.

So we've been messaging a bit every few days and my anxiety in this area is SO BAD that thinking about how to reply to every message he sends makes me feel sick and start crying and taking about 2 days to figure out how to reply.

The messages are innocuous. They're things like "How long have you been single?" and making suggestions about meeting up.

He lives on the other side of London so a good two or so hours away from me and his latest suggestion is that he comes all the way to my side of London on Friday evening. I'm free Friday evening and I just can't think of anything worse. Firstly, that's SO FAR for him to come just to meet a random stranger off the internet. I would have to make it worth while somehow and that's so terrifying. What does that mean? I can't do that! I'm boring as toast and extremely awkward on a first date. It's such a waste of his time. The fairer alternative is suggesting we meet in London but then I have to spend £30 on train fares to go into London when I'm exhausted from school in order to sit in a bar with a total stranger making small talk and that sounds like hell on earth too. Also going out in the evening means alcohol and I feel uncomfortable as hell drinking alcohol with a stranger. I mean, what if he puts something in my drink? But then to go to a bar and not drink makes me look like a buzz kill or immature.

And the other thing is that I know nothing about him except his job and where he lives and that he wants a serious relationship. I don't know what his hobbies are, what he's interested in, what kind of TV he watches... We're only talking because someone I knew 8 years ago says she thinks we might get on. And I know you're thinking, "Well, just ASK HIM SOME QUESTIONS, ROSE, YOU MORON!" but, like, that involves actually talking to him instead of just messaging every few days and that sounds like such hard work and I'm just SO ANXIOUS.

I want this situation to go away. I don't want to talk to a stranger with no context. It's completely unnatural. But what if I'm missing the chance of my life? How can I possibly throw this away? It's not as if men are queueing up to date me. This is an attractive man with a good job who WANTS TO MEET ME and I'm sobbing daily and losing sleep over how to respond to innocuous texts. If I'm ever going to move past whatever horrific blockage I've got, I have to face my fears, but couldn't I face them more gently? IDK.

It's like... if a student is struggling with a translation, it's important to break down tasks into manageable chunks so the whole passage doesn't look so daunting. But I've got here so many things that are scaring me all at once - internet dating, not knowing someone, his interest, meeting up, drinking, dates - I don't know how to break them down into manageable chunks!

Can I just say something like "I'm sorry but I find after all I'm not really in a place to be dating at the moment" and just nope out of the situation? I want to. But also I'd be so disappointed in myself for giving into fear. But I'm so stressed right now and crying all the time and feel so sick and I just want to get on with my school work and live my life with my friends and enjoy all the cool things I've got lined up over the next few weeks (London trips! Seeing friends! Seeing my parents! Going to the theatre! etc etc) that don't involve strange men.

I need a really good therapist so badly.

(I should point out that when I am not in a dating situation, I am a totally well-adjusted, sociable, friendly, competent adult and human being. My almost phobia of dating is very much an exception to who I am as a person which makes it even more striking.)

[thevindicativevordan]

Superman & Lois S1 Review

Damn this really has been my favorite piece of live action Superman media since Smallville ended.

Pros

Hoechlin is by far the best actor for Clark since either Welling or Reeve depending on your tastes. He's certainly the first one in ages to put any effort into portraying the Clark/Superman divide. As Clark he's a huge dork without being a cartoon, as Superman he's kind and caring without coming across as a caricature. He can be intimidating, such as when he's staring down the troops after getting shot with kryptonite, or funny, such as when he smirks at Lois after she suddenly realizes he can hear her gush about how she prefers Clark Kent over him. He's intelligent (demonstrated by him knowing multiple languages), and is idealistic without being naive in how he deals with Sam. You get how this guy could be Superman and what drives him, and it's great!

Tulloch is also rapidly climbing up the ranks of my favorite Lois actors, right now she's tied for second with Durrance behind Kidder. She's tough as nails and will verbally rip you apart if you try to cross her, but she's also amazing at those tender emotional moments such as when she is talking to her therapist about her miscarriage, or admitting to Jon that maybe she went too far in how she berated him. She's scary and also lovable at the same time in a way that is just so Lois Lane.

Both Clark and Lois are incredibly competent in their careers as hero and reporter respectively, but both struggle with being parents in a way that strikes such a great balancing act.

We finally get another live action John Henry Irons and holy shit is Wole amazing in the role. Irons is competent as hell from the start and he doesn't lose that competence once he sides with Superman. Wole does such a great job of portraying Irons' emotional intensity through his facial expressions and acting, I feel like he really helps to elevate the show with his presence. His tech was also cool as hell, from his war suit to his warhammer (red solar lamp attachments!) to his guns, that episode where he robs the truck carrying Kryptonite was awesome. I'm so glad they went with him as Steel instead of an alternate Luthor as was originally the plan apparently. Fingers crossed this leads to Steel getting more love elsewhere (give me a comic mini DC)!

The CGI overall is pretty damn good. Fight scenes obviously can't compare with the DCEU, but they feel like a major step up over the rest of the Arrowverse

Jordan really grew over the course of the season and I'm interested to see where he goes from here

The Cushings managed to be pretty damn interesting, Kyle was a pleasant surprise in that he managed to keep walking that tightrope between being sympathetic while also a screwup. I liked Lana and Lois becoming friends. Sarah is really great as well.

Chrissy was a lot of fun, starting out as a Lois fangirl but ultimately calling Lois out when she waffled on her integrity

Sam Lane was great, was worried how they would handle Clark and the military working together, but I think they did a good job handling the portrayal as tense with Clark making it clear there are lines he won't cross working with them. Sam failed as a dad to Lois and I enjoyed seeing him get called out on it

Really liked the actor who portrayed Edge, I thought he did a great job, he clearly seemed to be having fun

Cons

Jon is an extremely likeable character who feels completely ancillary to this show. As someone else I talked to pointed out, it feels like the show was made with one son in mind, but then they split the one son into two because "Jordan" offered them more freedom characterwise. Jon has basically been a support role to Jordan's plots this whole season, and with the arrival of Nat, I'm not really sure what his role will be going forward. The biggest problem is that Jon is so well-adjusted that if he gets powers, he's basically primed to take over for Clark already, so he won't get powers I think until that changes.

I think they didn't really have enough plot to justify adding more episodes frankly. The finale was solid, but felt a bit underwhelming given we already saw Clark break free of mind control with the power of love, and Eradicator-Edge was just making another failed attempt at what he already tried

Speaking of Edge why is he still alive? I'm not sure what he offers anymore at this point, his purpose in life is gone, and him knowing Clark's secret identity feels like something they can't just sweep under the rug, especially with Sam no longer running the DOD. Ditto for Leslie

All in all this was very satisfying for me personally. I rate S1 as an 8.5/10, and I'm really eager to see how Natalie showing up is going to shake things up. Thankfully it's been said we won't be getting another Kryptonian bad guy next season, and there will be more "Killgrave" smaller side villains. Really excited at the prospect of seeing more obscure Superman Rogues, although I personally would love it if Brainiac was the S2 big bad.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

With more and more information revealed via Augustus' burner phone, The team now has to make an important decision, one that would change the course of their lives, forever.

Chapter 15 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Meet Me Halfway

Unexpected Alliances

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141

Flying above Russian Airspace

Roach was speechless. Admittedly the dark and messy battle at the Gulag was something worth noting but the thing that kept his head preoccupied at the moment was Soap and France kissing in the middle of warfare.

Guess love knows no boundaries huh. He thought to himself as he looked at France kneeling beside Soap who passed out from exhaustion. Another person laying beside him was an old man named Jack. The 141 records had a match to Jack, he's apparently Alex's mentor who got missing when their safehouse got raided.

Guess the force will be having two reunions tonight. His eyes turned to Price, who sat by the huge window and gazed into the sea of clouds, he's always serious and in thought that Gary found him intimidating, even after that short mission in Germany. 

Then there was Ghost. He's surely heartbroken now that she saw what France did. And Gary was slightly to blame, well not necessarily his fault but if he pushed him enough to confess, maybe this won't hurt more than it did to him today.

Gary spent the rest of the trip observing, noting his comrade's actions, discussing with their thoughts, especially after the invasion. He was glad 141 extracted Soap before the deliberation, where none of them are allowed to perform missions. Gary felt scared, he just got here, got the hang of it, and was afraid to cut ties with the 141 on such short notice. But he hoped Shepherd would talk sense to the board, especially now that the burner phone filled with leads was within their possession.

"You're awfully quiet…" Ghost nudged to Gary while fidgeting with his gun.

"Well, I got nothing to talk about." Gary replied, turning to the masked man.

"Well I've got a lot, and it's pretty nasty. Can't say it here though." He replied, his tone was almost relieved, as if he just blurted out something that was bothering him for a long time.

"Is it about them?" Gary whispered, pointing his thumb to the couple back at the med bay.

"That's a different story, and I told you I was right, they already had a thing going on since day 1. Who am I to interfere…" Gary could feel him frown beneath the mask, he got defeated in the war of love.

"That's okay… You'll find someone better." Gary consoled and Ghost automatically shrugged it off. 

"Eh. I hope…" he said, turning to the window opposite to Gary's position.

~

Task Force 141 Base - Infirmary

"The audio from this room's camera is muted so it's best to discuss it here." Ghost sat on the chair as concerned 141 members circled around him, Jack, Alex and Soap occupied the beds as they recovered from injuries.

"What you got for us, lad?" Price crossed his arms as he leaned by the door, his hat tilted perfectly on his head.

"An anonymous number sent Augustus coordinates of the base prior to the attack." He held up the phone and everyone murmured.

"Looks like we have another mole in our hands." Alex grunted, turning to Jack for nostalgia.

"But this time, we have a solid lead to who it is…" Ghost added while everyone braced themselves for the slap of reality they're going to get.

From out of nowhere the infirmary doors opened, Maxine was panting and sobbing at the same time, her hands held her thigh desperately enduring some sort of pain.

"It's Samantha… haaah… Shepherd took her!..." she panted as Gary quickly assisted him while everyone who was capable of fighting dashed to the scene.

"Go, Gary. I'll take care of her." Soap quickly got up with Jack, they were already fine and just required to complete their nutrition so assisting her would be the best option.

Gary nodded and dashed outside, bracing himself for the unbearable news.

"Shit. What's going on! I thought we already agreed not to take Samantha elsewhere!" Gary caught up with Ghost and the rest of the available team.

"I have my wild guess, but you're not going to like it." He replied, adjusting his shades as they exited the building. From there, they saw the General's aircraft already far away from their reach. Behind them Alex, Soap, Jack and Maxine followed, their faces were drawn with extreme sadness. 

A few seconds of staring at the sky and Price's comms received an incoming message.

"Captain, I regret to inform you that the 141 is no more… I'm sending the High Value Individual to their care as the threat escalated and is being designated to a different force. I'm sorry. Please tell the rest of the group that in two weeks they will be returned to their prior assignments before 141 was established." his voice was nonchalant, emotionless and straightforward, like he's reading it from a diner table's tissue paper.

"No…" Price muttered. They were this close to Nero.  The rest of the team looked down, others started to disperse and did as ordered while the more concerned group stayed.

"Shepherd's working with Nero. He wants the EMP based weaponry to help his marines in Afghanistan." Ghost blurted, raising the heads of everyone around him.

"He's trading the economical side of the world to win a war?" Gary asked, as the information doesn't add up.

"It's a wild guess but the global economic pressure is already influencing the government to allocate more funds to anti terrorism. Cutting off 141 shouldn't be in play but he found a way to do so… He wants us to stop fighting back." 

"Then fighting back is what we're going to do." Price muttered, grabbing his phone.

"I'm going to make a few phone calls. Those who want to stay and save the world could stay. Those who are content to return to their past lives, you could leave." 

"What about me?" Maxine asked, raising her hand.

"Come with us, We'll take care of you while it's not safe out." Gary said, almost pleading her to say yes.

"I don't have anyone else but France and Samantha. I don't know where to go from here…"

"Then that settles it. Nikolai will take us somewhere safe. If the 141 is no more, we could still salvage weapons and ammo for ourselves. But after this, there's no turning back." Price added, his voice sparked inspiration to everyone. 

And that was it, from that moment. They've gone rogue, for a good cause. And they have to defeat Nero, Whatever it takes.

The Next Step

John Price

Task Force 141 - Disbanded

Former Task Force 141 Base - Helipad

A small group of his comrades were willing enough to stop the war, even at the cost of losing a lot of privileges. Price was always one to work under strict jurisdiction, and this rogue act he's going to commit will be backed up soon, it's going to be dependent on how Laswell influences the board.

The idea was easy. Create another task force which had to be approved prior to the 141's disbandment so that the papers for their redeployment would never be processed. Of course a few strings needed to be pulled and an organization must be able to absorb them. Interpol was willing to help along with Jack's influence to the CIA and Price was lucky enough to have them two on their side.

And there they were, with Nikolai's majestic aircraft, they set course to a temporary camp thanks to Jack. Price noted that he'd get along with the CIA, given they're age similarities and stance toward warfare. 

He surveyed his trusty crew and took note of their abilities. There's Alex, former CIA and fought alongside him in Verdansk and Urzikstan. He's got a clear objective and will and it doesn't matter to Price whether its love or world peace. He's good at terrible hostile locations and can single-handedly turn the tide of war by local agreements and persuasion. A good weapon.

Then there's Simon Riley, or Ghost. Excellent Sniper, the team's tech guy. He's a keeper, his ability to reject emotions while in combat makes him focused and a keen observer. He also excels in weapon usage. You give him anything with a trigger and he'll be sure to hit enemies no matter what.

Another one is John MacTavish, or Soap, what kind of a name is Soap? Price thought. Price looked at the muppet proudly. He rose among his comrades during recruitment and stood at the top of his batch, showing exemplary combat skills and demolitions expertise. Excellent at handling air support machinery and his keen eye never misses a tango hiding from the field. He's got it tough recently, Price believed luck wasn't on his side that's why he got injured a lot.

There's Gary Sanderson or Roach. Price calls him the team's therapist. He sees the willingness to help from the guy. He's eager to train hard and be better and he was impressed on how he handled the German Infilnitration they did together. He has initiative and a clear goal. Something useful at these times.

There's Francine Winters, France a.k.a. Shepherd's prodigy, the last minute addition. He's still quite skeptic as to why she's placed here, but so far he knew that with her sister mentally disturbed by the enemies she's bound to use her emotions as ammunition. She's great at stealth and close combat especially great for breaking and entering missions. She could be trained of open area battles and she has the drive to do so, making her another good addition to the team.

As for the remaining ones, Jack and Maxine, he has no idea yet but them tagging along and using their resources to the fight would greatly increase their chances of killing Nero and destroying the era of EMP machinery.

"Looks like you got yourself a pretty nice team, pal." Jack patted the Former captain's shoulder.

"Yeah. Small enough to remain secret and powerful enough to defeat Nero." he muttered. Jack held his phone and showed it to Price.

"I got us a place. An old CIA Safehouse."

"Are you sure this is going to be okay?" 

"Positive. This one's not used for decades. Classified as dormant and unmaintained. It's situated near a city that once housed a lot of terror activity but after it got neutralized it became very peaceful." Jack convinced. Price no longer hesitated, the team needed the help they can get.

"As long as we're under the radar." He replied and gave Nikolai the coordinates. From there they would begin their revenge toward Nero's attack, plan Samantha's rescue, and discover what Shepherd is really up to...

One step at a time.

Doing everything they can.

To set things right.

Whatever it Takes.

END OF PART 1

Wild ride first half. I hope you stay for the second part right around the corner!

Notification Squad my beloved 💝

@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @ricinbach @beemybee @whimsywispsblog

[hermywolf]

ranking my favorite characters about random shit part 5

ranking my favorite characters (clarke griffin, dean winchester, fox mulder, rose tyler, newt, kaz brekker, samwise gamgee, charles xavier, bill denbrough, lord asriel, steve rogers, scott mccall, anna milton and barry berkman) about random shit. this is entirely self-indulgent

Part 5: How they’d react to a breakup (i’m imagining a completely random oc as the one breaking up with them because if i start thinking of the people i ship them with breaking up with them i WILL cry)

1- NEWT

he’s the sweetest man on earth he’d want to talk about it and understand his partner’s reasons and he’d be so kind and understanding even though he’d be sad lemme tell you this man is a SAINT

2- STEVE ROGERS

sweet understanding KING. absolute TREASURE. he’d be so confused and sad at first but he’d be SO understanding UGH i am in love with this man

3- SCOTT MCCALL

remember when allison sorta kinda broke up with him and he was all sweet and kind about it and said that he believed they would find their way to each other again eventually. yeah. iconic behavior. king shit

4- SAMWISE GAMGEE

he’s the PRESIDENT of ‘let’s stay friends!’ squad he’ll definitely stay in touch with all his exes they’re all his absolute besties

5- CHARLES XAVIER

mr telepath mindreader therapist teacher man absolutely sees it coming from a thousand miles away and he might even be the one to bring it up so that his partner doesn’t worry about it. he will be sad but he gets over it in a healthy way because he’s (MOSTLY) in touch with his feelings

6- ANNA MILTON

for a fallen angel with a bit of a god complex she’s surprisingly well adjusted. i think she’s the kind to definitely stay friends with her exes except like two of them which she’s got five different plans to murder each. all in all if it’s a healthy breakup they stay friends if it involves cheating she’s out to get you motherfucker and you know what you deserve it i mean who the FUCK would cheat on ANNA MILTON of all people istg

7- DEAN WINCHESTER

whoever thinks dean is emotionally constipated enough to be the ‘i didnt like u anyway’ kind has NOT seen spn 1x13 road 666 like GUYS. he pretends to be this no-chick-flick-moments and no-attachment kinda dude but we all know he actually cares SO much and if you look at his relationship with cassie or lisa he’s actually pretty open and communicative and sincere and he geniunely tries to talk about shit with them?? so he does have a constructive and heartfelt conversation and says he understands but he also WILL cope by either going on more hunts to distract himself or by locking himself in his room with pizza and movies in his hotdog pants and send noods socks, s14 style. TONS of ice cream. he’ll ghost his ex for a while when he’s coping with it but then later on they do end up being besties (yes i AM on the team dean-becomes-bff-with-all-his-exes don’t mind me just spreading my dean being besties with anna, cassie, lisa,amara, benny and crowley agenda)

8- BILL DENBROUGH

he’s pissed and sad and offended and grumpy and confused he just feels a LOT of shit at the same time like he’s having a full breakdown inside but from the outside his reaction is pretty much ‘what. oh. ok’

9- LORD ASRIEL

he does not, and mark my words on this one, give a single fuck. he IS what kaz pretends to be and what ketterdam thinks he is. asriel does not give a FLYING FUCK he’s like ‘well ok then see you around i guess’ and then just moves on. he was probably cheating on his partner anyway if we’re being honest here, he’s just that terrible. god why is he my favorite character again- oh right he’s insanely hot and wants to murder god right right that tracks

10- FOX MULDER

he’s extremely sweet and compassionate and understanding but then he disappears for like five months to chase down an alien in guatemala or some shit and then comes back pretending as if nothing happened at all

11- CLARKE GRIFFIN

she’s NOT happy about it and gets all grumpy and pouty and will angrily rant about it to her friends for ages but then once she’s over it she’s like. OVER over it. she completely moves on, like full on flip the switch and the feelings are GONE

12- ROSE TYLER

full breakdown in her room with tubs and tubs of ice cream wondering what she did wrong and then probably gets offered by a friend to go throw eggs at their house or some dumb shit. rose says no but she ALMOST did it. she keeps asking if there’s someone else even when it’s very clear that there’s NOT.

13- KAZ BREKKER

allow me to introduce you to the pettiest bitch on EARTH. he will definitely not hurt his ex in any way but he’ll do his absolute best to show them how much they’re missing. like he’s PETTY about it he’ll hold a gruge months, no year, no DECADES after it happened. he shows absolutely no emotions whatsoever you’d barely notice there’s been any change in his behavior, he’s not, like, sad or angry or anything, he’s just suddenly VERY devoted to the fact that everyone must know how AMAZING he’s doing and how rich and powerful and feared he is and how much a hypothetical ex-partner is missing. like this bitch probably has a full twenty pages long plan about what to do in case he gets dumped so that his ex will regret it terribly. and the worst is that kaz is a smart bitch who knows people’s weaknesses and how to exploit them so it WORKS it works and he absolutely loves it, jesper is like ‘dude how come every single time you got dumped they came back asking you to get back together only for you to reject them EXACTLY five months later’ and kaz hiding the twenty pages long binder with his elaborated plan behind his back as if it wasn’t carefully calculated and just shrugging like ‘idk i guess im a catch’ he makes everyone SO angry and honestly good for him!

14- BARRY BERKMAN

two words: murder spree. healthy coping mechanisms WHO we don’t know her in this house he’s sad and angry and he’s going to make it YOUR problem. guns out angry bill hader face ON baby. pew pew motherfucker it’s murder time. bam thirty casualties. rip to them. and he doesn’t even feel better after it either he’s crushed by guilt and having ANOTHER breakdown which will result in MORE ptsd and more sadness and anger and eventually ANOTHER breakdown and ANOTHER murder spree. its a lose-lose situation for everyone. except for his partner who’s free of his shit now i guess so true of them

[thomaslightwoodenthusiast]

here it is!!! i hope you guys like it fjfkcks (disclaimer: it is set in modern world!)

no time to die - thomastair

(TW: death, mentions of suicide and murder, also for simplicity reasons even though it’s technically iran i called it persia like the book)

➰➰➰➰➰➰

Thomas turned to Alastair. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he said, whilst adjusting the shorter man’s suit jacket.

“Thomas, you need not worry so much. You know I’ve been doing this for years- an awards show should be no different.”

Thomas looked at his boyfriend. Boyfriend. It was still strange to even think. It had taken him so long to accept the truth, and even longer to admit his feelings for Alastair. Despite their past, Alastair alongside Anna had been the ones who understood what he was going through and helped him. It was just that, it had taken so long to get him, Thomas was afraid Alastair would disappear.

“I love you. Blow them away, eh?” he said with a wink.

“Oh darling, I always do,” Alastair replied. “Though sometimes I do feel like I’m doing so much that I’ll have no time to die!”

That had been their last conversation. The last words Alastair spoke to Thomas before...it. Even though five years had passed, Thomas kept replaying the night and the events over and over. He still cried about it. The pain had been immense.

The song ends.

Lights go down.

Bang.

Men rushing to the stage. Paramedics running to the scene. People screaming bloody murder. Thomas didn’t believe it. Couldn’t. But there was Alastair, down like a flash and bleeding across the wooden surface. His typically brown skin paling to a sick, deathly colour. He had tried to get across, tried to see what had happened but not only did the men refuse; he was promptly dragged out of the building and sent away.

Something about what happened wasn’t right.

They all claimed Alastair had killed himself onstage; that he’d hidden the gun and used it at lights out. But Thomas knew that wasn’t true; there were no guns in their house, and he would definitely have noticed if Alastair wasn’t feeling okay. No; Thomas was convinced.

He was murdered.

The men hadn’t let him near him, which just convinced Thomas more. And any time he tried to make an attempt to the press, they didn’t listen. They brushed it off as ‘a grief-stricken boyfriend’.

Which was exactly why, five years later on the anniversary of the incident, Thomas Lightwood was sitting in a bar with his cousin Anna.

“Bullshit!”

“Whoa there, where did that come from?” Anna said, offended.

Thomas flushed. “Oh- sorry. Nothing.”

Anna could tell he was lying. Ever since Alastair’s death it had never been the same. Cordelia had been heartbroken; she refused to mention him at all even now. Thomas was the reverse. He was absolutely convinced it wasn’t suicide, but rather murder. He had dedicated the majority of the last five years to trying to find information or any evidence. It was almost heartbreaking to watch. Thomas had been through enough, losing his sister too. Anna was always very protective of her cousin- they used to nickname each other the ‘Gay Defense Squad’ because of how they stuck by and defended each other from anyone who might ‘disagree with their way of life’.

“I know it’s not nothing, ya big idiot. It’s him, isn’t it?”

Thomas sighed. “Yes. It is. I’m sorry, Anna. I really am.”

“You don’t have to be. You lost someone extremely important to you in an awful and tragic way. It takes years to get over that stuff. Especially with poor Barbara. How many years now? 7?”

“Yeah.” Thomas felt his eyes tearing up. The mental pressure to hold everything together was terrible. “Dad’s still- Gideon is still heartbroken. Well, anyone who lost a child would be, but sometimes I see him and I can see how red his eyes are, how pale he is and it’s just not fair. If there was some way, any way to just take all my parents’ pain away I would.”

Anna was thoughtful. “But what about your own? Thomas, you need help. You need someone who’s a therapist; not your cousin.”

Thomas shook. “No, no I don’t need help. I’m not insane, do you think I goddamn am? I’ve spent years trying and trying to find out what happened and look where it’s got me? No. Fucking. Where. I won’t rest.”

Anna Lightwood’s heart tore. Thomas didn’t deserve any of this. She wished he could understand that people didn’t think he was insane; they thought he was in denial. Anna had to admit; she agreed with what Thomas was doing, but there comes a time where you can only do so much, or else you might uncover a truth you might not want to hear.

A slim waiter approached the two, holding a note in his hand. “Hey guys! Sorry to bother you, but there was a man sitting at that table over there and he handed me this note. Pointed to this table and said it was for the dude.” He dropped the folded piece of paper in front of Thomas and sauntered off. Thomas picked the paper up and unfolded it. It read;

324 Blackends Street.

Tomorrow. 8pm.

Anna glanced over. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Thomas replied. “All it says is an address and a time. What could this...mean?”

Anna winked. “Maybe someone’s seen something they like?” she said, to which Thomas glared. “What? Look. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but this could be your big break. Your next step into finding out what happened! I say you go, but leave if the person isn’t there after a few minutes.”

Thomas considered it. He’d waited for a moment like this for so long, yet now that it was a possibility he felt strangely sick. He was anxious and terrified. “Of course, we could be wrong and maybe it’s just someone playing some stupid prank. I’ll give it a chance though. Just in case.”

The cousin duo left and parted ways at the door, Thomas’s stomach sick with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Could he really be about to solve the case? To find out the truth?

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

The whole day, Thomas had been extremely off. Even Christopher had noticed.

“Tom, are you okay?”

“James what have I told you about calling me that-“

“I know, I know. But you’ve been so quiet all day. You seem tense, worried about something. I know it was the anniversary of...that...yesterday. Do you need to talk? You can if you want, you know me, Christopher and Math are all here for you.”

“Look I appreciate it. Yes. I’m just stressed about something that happened when I was out with Anna last night and I can’t figure out what it means or why.”

Matthew came over from where he was sitting. “What is it?”

Thomas handed him the note.

“Ooo is someone involved in a secret little rendezvous? Kidding. Unless?”

Thomas deadpanned. “No, Matthew. No I am not. Although I don’t even know what I’m involved in myself. This waiter gave us this note saying it was for me from a random guy at another table. I don’t know what he wants from me or why, but I’m going.”

James’s eyes narrowed. “No you’re not. I don’t want you getting hurt or anything. None of us know what’s happening.”

Thomas took a breath. “I’m only gonna stay there for five minutes I promise. I’ll call you guys as soon as it’s over or if something goes wrong. Trust me, ‘kay?”

Christopher stopped his reading to look up at his cousin for a brief moment. “Please don’t die,” he said in a worrying tone.

“Kit!! I’ll be fine! Please don’t worry. You just concern yourself with your weird and wonderful world of books.” Thomas notices the way Christopher avoided his gaze. He was very fidgety. He tended to get like this when in stressful situations.

“Group hug,” called James.

➰➰➰➰➰➰

Thomas breathed in and out slowly to calm his nerves. He was walking towards the building he presumed it was. He knew he should nope the hell out of there, but what was life without a little risking it? He stopped at the right address-

And was promptly yanked through a doorway.

On which he banged his head.

“Okay now if you’re trying to be discreet on kidnapping me it isn’t really working-“

“Oh SHUT up I’m not kidnapping you you daft log.”

Thomas opened his mouth to reply, but he froze where he was standing. That voice, that beautiful voice. The accent with a slightly foreign lilt.

“No...”

The man replied back in a mocking tone. “Yes...”

“...Alastair?”

He flicked the light on, as if to prove it. And it was. The brown skin, the dark hair and eyes, the short yet lean stature. “In the flesh.”

Thomas threw his arms around him. Alastair returned the gesture. The two sobbed into each other’s shoulders for a while, as if their tears were glue holding them together. Alastair moved his head away, but did not dare to release his grip on Thomas. “I suppose I have some explaining to do?”

“I thought- I thought you were dead! You were shot! Wait, was it fake? Was-“

“That’s one thing that was real about the situation. They had intended to kill me but missed my head and hit me,” said Alastair, rolling up his shirt, “here.”

There was a scar on the left side of his chest. It looked painful.

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“Well it’s not really a they, more a he.”

“Then who’s he?”

Alastair stopped for a moment. Thomas could see his fear. Whoever had hurt him this badly deserved death.

“It’s actually- well, my psycho ex. But- you know him.”

“I do? Who the hell is he?”

“Think of Matthew. Did he ever say anything about his brother? About him going away for several days at a time with no explanation?”

“It’s not- no. Your psycho ex, the one who did all this to you, is Charles? Fairchild? The goody-two-shoes who always acted superior to everyone?”

Alastair nodded.

“Dear God! I’ll kill him, I swear to GOD-“

“No Thomas, please. I need to explain what happened. After I was hurt, I was taken straight to wherever Charles lived. The bleeding stopped on its own, but that’s why the wound hasn’t healed as well. I was basically held captive for three years- not allowed out on my own, or left alone in the house. But one day, I did it. I hurt him, Thomas. I beat the hell out of him and didn’t even care. I still don’t.”

“But- you said you were held for three years. It’s been five.”

“I’ve been all around this country. Trying to hide from him.”

Thomas felt hurt. “But why didn’t you just come straight to me? Or Cordelia? She’s been heartbroken ever since, and she refuses to even mention your name now.”

Alastair was desperate. “I know, and I’m sorry. I couldn’t go there because I thought it would be too obvious. I thought he’d come for one of you, and I couldn’t risk it. But over time, I realised I can’t do this anymore. I decided I was going to move back home- to Persia. Or at least, that I would...if I could do it with you.”

Thomas stood, suddenly angered. “What about my family? My parents?? They’ve already lost one daughter, I doubt they want to lose their son. And my friends??”

“You can visit them! They can come to Persia! It’s just, I will never be safe unless it’s at home,” said Alastair, rushing his words as if he was afraid Thomas would make a run for it. “Please, come with me. I love you, Thomas. I love you and I need you.”

Thomas resigned; he knew what he was going to do.

He leaned down and kissed Alastair; it was as beautiful a moment as it was heartbreaking. Years of pain, now joined together again. Alastair stood up on the tips of his toes and enveloped his fingers in Thomas’s hair. Thomas felt as if the two torn-apart pieces of his heart were knitting themselves back together in that very moment. They broke away from each other, catching their breath more than they thought they needed to.

“You don’t even have to ask twice.”

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Thomas informed the others of what was going to happen. No one was pleased, and Sophie was worried, but they made an attempt to understand his situation.

Thomas felt alive for one of the first times in a long time. It was exhilarating and the whole thing was so fun. Part of him worried for his family, but he knew they were safe; it was his duty to protect Alastair.

“I can’t help but feeling that there is not much difference between what we are doing and an elopement,” voiced Alastair, the two together on the plane. Thomas laughed. He put his arm around Alastair, who cuddled in to him as best he could with the awkward aeroplane seats.

“I suppose you’re right. Maybe we’re criminals, and we’re on the run! Or we’re secret lovers, running away to be who we truly are!” he said. The instructions started and the plane began moving. Alastair suddenly felt an odd sinking feeling.

“Are you okay?”

Alastair dismissed the question with a shake of his head and sat up. “I’m fine. It’s just- well we’re leaving so much behind I guess.”

Thomas gripped his hand. “You’re doing what’s right for you, and that’s all that matters.” The stewardesses finished giving their instructions and a new voice came over the plane.

“Hello and good afternoon, this is your pilot speaking!”

“No,” said Alastair. “No no no this can’t be true. He couldn’t have. I-I-,” he froze. He felt his seatbelt in an attempt to open it, but it was jammed. Speechless, he reached over Thomas, who had paled slightly.

His belt was jammed too.

“Alastair- breathe, please you’re going to choke.”

“...please keep your seatbelts absolutely fastened at all times...”

“He found me, Thomas.”

“...because there really...”

“I’m done for.”

“...is...”

Thomas was as speechless as Alastair. He was terrified. For even though they weren’t close, he knew exactly who the voice belonged to.

Charles.

“...no time to die.”

➰➰➰

this is so dramatic i’m sorry but anyways i have a plan for a short prequel (as in, the events leading up to Alastair’s ‘death’) if anyone wants one? and also lmk if you want a sequel 😗✌️

[pixelgrotto]

Remixing a tomb plus a highway to hell

Last month I finished DMing Tomb of Annihilation for one of my D&D groups. It’s a campaign that sees heroes adventuring to the land of Chult to stop big bad lich Acererak, who’s made a device known as the Soulmonger that’s emanating a Death Curse and screwing up the world’s resurrection magic. It’s also a spiritual successor to Tomb of Horrors, one of the classic deathtrap dungeons of tabletop RPG history that came about because D&D creator Gary Gygax wanted to screw his players over for opening doors wrong. In short, it’s certainly one of the more memorable adventures for D&D 5e, but the version of Tomb of Annihilation that I ran for my players was actually extremely remixed and hacked apart, as is the case with every official Wizards of the Coast module that I run. 

There were a few reasons for this - my players were coming into this campaign fresh out of Curse of Strahd, and everyone was level 8. One of the players had died early on in Curse of Strahd - in the very first session we played, hilariously enough - and was temporarily sustained by the mists of the Shadowfell only to collapse upon returning to the material plane. With this in mind, I felt that it would be a great twist to have the party venture on a quest of resurrection only to learn that resurrection magic throughout the world had stopped working due to Acererak’s nefarious plans.

Additionally, I wanted to give my players the chance to try out alternate characters if they so desired. In the name of grand ambition, I decided to have my players create two sets of characters, and wove a homebrew story, dubbed “Fiends in Waterdeep,” that would run analogous to and eventually intertwine with Tomb of Annihilation. The first set of characters - consisting of some of the veterans who had survived Curse of Strahd - would investigate the streets of Waterdeep, which was suffering from an invasion of devils and demons that seemed unconnected to Acererark’s dark doings. The second set, consisting of new level 8s, would venture to Chult, the vaguely African-inspired landmass in the south of the Forgotten Realms, to track down the source of the Death Curse. After progressing through seemingly unconnected storylines, at the end of the campaign the disparate plot threads would mesh. The Waterdeep explorers would travel to the Nine Hells only to learn that the fiend invasion was caused by the abduction of the Queen of Hell’s newly born infant - a soul-devouring mass of flesh that could open portals into other worlds with its burps and farts - while the Chult expedition would delve into the jungle to find Acererark, smash the Soulmonger and free the aforementioned child. 

In short, I basically made a complicated D&D adventure even more complicated by layering my own story on top of it and running two campaigns at once. I think I was looking for a challenge, and oh boy, I got one. I probably won’t be undertaking something like this ever again, because it required a lot of planning hurdles on my part. For instance, my players and I usually gamed for about 5-6 hours at most, which meant devoting 2 and a half or 3 hours to both sets of characters. If one battle lasted too long or a social interaction went south, I’d have to adjust this timeframe accordingly, and every DM knows that players will always defy your expectations in one way or another, so there was a lot of improv on the fly to make sure that our sessions stayed well-paced. 

In the name of pacing, I also stripped much of the fat out of Tomb of Annihilation, which is largely composed of a really long hexcrawl. D&D 5e’s hexcrawl exploration and survival rules have never been particularly good, in my opinion, and the rules in the book expect you to roll LOTS of random encounters and deal with stuff like inclement weather, mosquito attacks, hunting, getting lost, etc. I incorporated some of this stuff (the hunting, since we had two rangers in the party), but I pre-rolled all of the random encounters and potential locations the party could go ahead of time, getting rid of some of the ones I didn’t like, and largely handwaved stuff like getting hopelessly lost. Reddit explorations have revealed that by far and large, everyone running this campaign does the same thing - particularly for higher level players trying to get through the jungle without feeling like they’re wasting time. (And from my firsthand experience with Out of the Abyss, there’s nothing worse than going through multiple D&D sessions and feeling like you haven’t accomplished much.)

My approach to streamlining Acererak’s deathtrap lair at the end of the campaign was similar. I skimmed through the entire dungeon with all of its bajillion floors (which could take an average group months to get through) in favor of using the 10 rooms that I liked the most, which was more than enough. Tomb of Annihilation, while probably fairer than Gary Gygax’s Tomb of Horrors, is still in my opinion full of wacky stuff in the final dungeon that just isn’t my cup of tea for D&D, including one trap that can get characters stuck in real-world Victorian London. (Okay, that’s cool on paper, but to actually run it as a DM, especially when your players are in the final hours of their adventure? I’ll pass.)

Additionally, I made Ras Nsi - the warlord-turned-yuan-ti - into more of a developed NPC who was actually willing to help the players slay Acererak. In the book, he’s very much a Darth Maul-type bad guy who looks cool but has a minimum of characterization. This is because Tomb of Annihilation leans into the stereotype that Ras Nsi and the rest of the yuan-ti are all merciless bastards with inscrutable plans, and while this may be fine if you’re familiar with the Conan the Barbarian serpentfolk tropes that inspired the yuan-ti, it’s not great if you’re trying to build a believable world with compelling characters. Much has been written about how Chult stumbles at portraying a fantasy Africa - largely by depicting the characters as foreign saviors and the Chultans as relatively helpless - and while some of this was alleviated in my game by the fact that one player’s character actually was Chultan, I still felt it was necessary to give some of the indigenous races a chance to help undo the curse that, after all, was first and foremost affecting their land.

Switching gears, when it came to the accompanying Fiends in Waterdeep homebrew story, I recycled some material from Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, which I’d previously run for two different groups, and also took inspiration from the Wizards of the Coast module Descent into Avernus. At the time of planning, Descent Into Avernus was the most recent D&D hardcover, and all the reviews I’d read painted it as cool in concept but a major pain in the butt to run in reality. So, I decided to use only the nifty bits - a journey into the first layer of the Nine Hells via Mad Max-style tanks powered by souls - and mixed it with my own tale that was influenced by a profile of Fury, the dragon queen of hell, that I’d read in the third-party 5e supplement Legendary Dragons. It turned into a mildly amusing story about Fury warring against her ex-husband Asmodeus, and the players ended up serving as therapists in what amounted to an interplanar lover’s spat. I’d recently started therapy when I came up with the campaign concept, so this is probably one of those unique instances where real life truly influenced art. And hey, the unpredictable whims of all-powerful, world-shaping deities make for great adventure hooks, and judging by how Greek mythology seems to have re-entered the modern zeitgeist these days (I’m thinking about Hades, one of the most popular indie rougelikes out there, as well as that Netflix series Blood of Zeus) it seems like I was on the nose!

In the end, this two-tiered campaign lasted roughly 70 hours and climaxed with all sets of characters reaching level 10. Acererark’s Soulmonger was smashed, the feud between Fury and Asmodeus smoothed over, and after enduring the eerie mists of the Shadowfell, the hot temperatures of Chult and the flames of Avernus, the story of these motley players - who’d started questing with me back in 2018, and endured a move to online games in the era of COVID - came to a gentle end. I’m a believer in the reality that campaigns don’t necessarily need to last forever, and with real life throwing some of my players (and myself) a few recent curveballs, this seemed like a solid finale point. A consistent campaign running over two years is in many ways a dream for a lot of D&D players and DMs, and I’m glad I got the chance to make it happen.

[andrea-lyn]

OHHH! if you still have space for your b-day request thing. Michael and Alex are neighbors, they're both loud for their own reasons (Michael's work, Buffy, Alex's nightmares, whatever) and annoy the crap out of each other even though they've never met, when they finally do they're instantly attracted to each other without knowing the other is the noisy neighbor

He wakes, screaming, atthree in the morning.It takes Alex a few moments for him to recognize where he is. “Book,” he says,marking the items around him, “alarm clock, pillow, dog, guitar.” He goesthrough them again so that he knows he’s not in Iraq, he’s not waking up afterthe explosion. His hand drifts to his knee, rubbing at the angry scarring there.Unfortunately, even though he’s not in the desert, that doesn’t mean his leg isback.He reaches for his guitar and cradles it to his chest, knowing that he needs itto soothe him.It takes him four songs before he can calm down and the last is angry, shoutedlyrics and loud chords, like he’s trying to manifest his anxiety and his PTSDas a thing that he can shout and scream at. His therapist had recommended it tohim, but it rarely seems to do anything.Well, it does something.The thumping on the wall followed by a dull sounding, “Shut the fuck up!” meansthat he’s pissed off his neighbors again. The thin walls of this apartmentreally suck, but Alex lives here and it’s his home. He has a right to dowhatever he wants and he’s not about to let someone else stop him. Thesenightmares aren’t every night, and his neighbors can run white noise machines,same as he does.Once he’s finished, he goes back to bed, but it’s not like he drifts intopeaceful dreams. He tosses and turns all night, not trusting himself to fallback asleep, as if the nightmare will be there waiting for him. It puts him in an extremely irritable mood, so when his nosy asshole neighboris back at it again the next day with the noise, his patience almost snaps. Hehas no idea what the hell he’s doing, but he hears grinding and sawing and hethinks that at one point, there’s a small explosion. Why does Alex put up with this?(He knows why, it’s the low rent)It’s always like this, though. The noise is a factor that Alex has had to become accustomed to in hisapartment. His irritable mood has left him unwilling and unable to deal withit, so when he hears another crash and the ensuing sound of parts hitting tile,he slams his hand to the wall, with Buffy’s barking adding to the noise.“Hey, asshole! Shut the fuck up!” he booms, his patience shot.“Tell yourself that at night!” comes the ensuing sniping.

Alex boils over with rage, which is why he has to take out Buffy for a walk. Hedoesn’t even know where the noise is coming from because the walls in thisplace are thin, but the pipes carry sound. For all he knows, his nightmareneighbor could be the one across the hall, the one beside him, or maybe even afloor below. Whoever he is, Alex would love to give him a piece of his mind. The walk helps to calm Alex down, though he knows a nap would really do thetrick (if it were quiet enough to do). By the time he gets back, he feelsrefreshed and ready, and as he digs out his mailbox key to pick up his letters,he’s already wondering if the noise had really been that bad, or if he was justexhausted.Truthfully, Alex suspects it’s a little of column A and a lot of column B.The exhaustion becomes the guilty culprit for something else, which happens tobe the way he comes to a sudden stop when he sees a man he’s never seen before,standing at the mailbox.It’s not that Alex knows all his neighbors, but he feels like he’d haveremembered this one. The man leans up against the mail and starts riflingthrough his letters, his legs extended and looking lean and long and so fuckinggood in those tight jeans. His hair is a mess of curls atop his red scarf, andhis nose and the tips of his ears are still pink from being outside.He’s also currently standing in front of Alex’s mail slot.“Uh…”He’s stammering, only because his brain had decided in that moment that theappropriate thing to do would be to whisper that this stranger could slidewhatever he wants in Alex’s back slot and he’d be okay with that. He clears his throat and tries again. “You’re in front of my mailbox.”The man glances up, startled by Alex’s voice. He blinks a few times and Alexfeels his heart pound even harder in his chest. His eyes are gorgeous. Whoever this is, he seems equally stunned to see Alex. “Hi,” Alex delves into the depths of his talent for talking and gets…that meeklittle noise.Fuck, he’s bad at this. “What?”He gestures to the mailbox. “You’re uh, you’re standing in front of themailbox? I need to…” He jangles his keys, like the man is a dog. “Sorry.”The other guy says, “Sorry,” at the same time as he steps aside, but doesn’tleave. Instead, he presses his hip near the mailboxes so that he’s angledtowards Alex, leaning his temple and all those curls against it, like he wantsa front-row seat to Alex getting the mail. It’s enough to make him blush andhe’s immensely grateful that Buffy is right there with him to help distracthim.His attention stays low, because he’s not sure he could manage eye contact withthe man without making more of a fool of himself.“You new here?” the guy asks.“Me? No,” Alex responds, awkwardly figuring out how to say, I’ve been herefor months, but I’m so much of a recluse that you’ve clearly never seen mebefore. He chances a look up, mail in hand. “You?”“Same,” he admits. “I only got off the night shift a few weeks ago,” he says,and if Alex looks closer, he can see the bags under his eyes, like he hasn’tfully adjusted to getting sleep. He opens his mouth to say something else, butthe vibrations of a phone interrupt him. “Shit, sorry. I gotta take this, it’swork…” He offers an apologetic smile and wanders off.Instead of lingering, Ale decides that’s his chance to make an escape. It’s not that he doesn’t want to stick around and talk more, but there’s anawkward protocol at play. Who knows how long this phone call is bound to go on?Is he really going to stand there the whole time? Does that make him weird orcreepy, because he kind of thinks it does.Alex heads to the elevator, easing Buffy inside so he can take the weight offhis prosthetic, heading up to his floor. Once he gets inside the apartment, Alexpresses his back to the door, mail clutched to his chest, and he knows thathe’s willing to stay here a little while longer and put up with the noise, ifit means getting to run into his hot neighbor a little more often.After all, he never even got his name. He can’t possibly think about leavingnow.The next chance Alex gets to see his hot neighbor is during the weekly tidy infront of the apartment buildings. Without any fees, they can’t afford to hireanyone, but Alex and a few others had volunteered to keep their gardens tidy.He’s in the middle of poking some garbage with his spear when he glances to theside to see curly-haired hot neighbor with his own bag down the way.Alex takes it as a sign that this is meant to be. They’re supposed to meetagain, even if all they do that day is a polite wave of acknowledgement.He runs into him again a few days later when he’s taking Buffy out. She’s beingsuch a good dog lately, not barking or growling at anyone. In fact, when shesees the man, she goes trotting over to happily accept some pets. “Hey, girl,” he says, adjusting his keys in his hands. “And handsome man,” heteases, glancing up at him.Alex flushes slightly, but seizes the opportunity. “Buffy,” he says, gesturingto her. “And Alex,” he adds, with a gesture to himself. He feels inordinatelyproud about the fact that he managed to introduce himself before making acomplete ass of his behavior. The other man’s sweating and leaning against thedoor, so it looks like he just came from a run.His heart beats rapidly, giving him a hopeful smile. Luckily, it pays off. “I’mMichael,” he says, and there it is.He’s got a name for the face.(He’s also got something to moan later in bed, but he’s not going to focus onthat part)“Hey Michael,” Alex greets him, feeling overly charmed. “It must be freezingout there. You’re dedicated, going out for a run like that?”“I’m a sucker for my sister,” he pants, half bent over. “Fuck,” he exhales,wheezing. “This definitely isn’t the stamina I wanted to impress you with.” Alex raises his eyebrow.“You’ve been wanting to impress me with your stamina?”They did only just meet. Usually Alex doesn’t do this, but maybe that’sexactly why he says what he does next, while Michael is still catching hisbreath.“Maybe you could come to dinner at my place,” he invites. “I bet you have allsorts of other talents.”He did it. He said it, he did it, and now he can’t take it back. He’s not surehe wants to take it back. Breathing out, he tries to calm himself down, buthe’s managed to get really excited over the fact that he’s just invited a manhe just met up to his place for dinner.“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.”Score one for Alex’s luck.“Tomorrow?” Alex suggests. “We’ll order in.”“It’s a date.”It absolutely is, which gives Alex a thrill that he can barely measure. He goesup to the apartment with Buffy to tidy it up, still amazed that Michael said yesand that this handsome man has been living in this hellhole apartment under hisnose the whole time. He doesn’t even know where Michael works, but he’s sograteful that he’s off the nightshift, giving him a chance to have dinner withAlex. Michael shows up to dinner wearing a gorgeous burgundy sweater that looks likesoft angora. The moment Alex opens the door to let him in, he wants to bury hisface in it and never come up for air.“Hi,” Alex greets him. “Welcome to my humble apartment.” Michael glances around the room, his eyes landing on the guitar. Something onhis face shifts, like annoyance, and Alex rushes to move it off the couch.“Sorry,” he says. “I play sometimes.”“At night,” Michael says evenly.Alex frowns, not sure why Michael sounds like that. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I’vehad a lot of nightmares since my accident, but music helps calm my anxiety.”“Nightmares,” Michael echoes. “That must keep you up a lot in the middle of thenight. Screaming?”Alex isn’t sure he likes the way Michael is staring at him. “…Yeah?”Michael lets out a ragged scoff. “You’re the one I’m shouting at in the middleof the night.” He swallows hard, giving Alex an apologetic look. “I don’t meanhalf of what I say?” he offers, shaking his head. “Fuck, that sounds insincere.It’s more that I got off the night shift and then I keep getting woken up, bythe screaming, then the music. It really floats through…”If it does, then Alex figures it goes both ways. “Does your job involve small explosions and crashes?”Michael gives him a sheepish look. “I’ve had time in the morning now to work onmy things.”This is the asshole that Alex keeps shouting at. “It’s a shitty apartment with bad walls,” he says, because now that he’s metthe man, he doesn’t really want to shout at him. He also doesn’t want thedinner to be ruined all because of this, and he has a bad feeling it’s goingthat way. “I’m sorry if I’m ever too loud. Bad dreams,” he admits, “from mytour in Iraq. The music is what keeps me sane.”“I get that,” Michael admits. “It’s why I tinker around with experiments. Ihave insomnia, but doing that kind of work sets my mind at ease.”Alex stare at Michael, the awkward tension drawn out. Then, it breaks rapidly,because they both start laughing.“Fuck,” Michael wheezes. “I can’t believe you’re Dickbag Noisy Asshole,” hesays. “An affectionate nickname,” he guarantees.“I just called you a jackass in my head,” Alex admits, but now that he knowsMichael, knows why it’s happening, and where it’s coming from, he thinks he hasan idea of how they can deal with it. “Maybe,” he says, “the next time you hearthat kind of noise in my apartment, you could come and knock on my door. I’dabsolutely be willing to keep it down, for a good cause.”Michael toys with his cell phone, eyeing Alex with a keen look, a littleflirtatious and filthy. “Come and knock on your door in the middle of the night,” he says thoughtfully,like he needs the time to think about it. “I think I could manage.”“Okay, then,” Alex replies, getting the feeling that maybe after tonight’sdinner, he’s going to get to see Michael again fairly soon, and in the middleof the night. Funny, then, how now Alex is hoping for a nightmare, if only to see ifMichael sticks to his word.*It turns out that there’s a solution for both their noise problems.When Michael stays the night, Alex securely curled into his arms, he doesn’twake from a single nightmare. He’s cocooned in his warmth and he gets a fullnight’s rest, with Buffy dozing on the corner of the bed near them. Michael,well-rested, then conducts his experiments without dropping half as manythings, and he doesn’t make calculation errors that have things blowing up.“You know,” Michael mentions, after they’ve tried this for a week to discoverit’s not a fluke, “I always knew sex was the answer for most things, but Idon’t think I could’ve predicted it’d solve my noisy neighbor issue.”Alex rolls over in bed, grinning at Michael.“How about you come over here and we’ll solve it some more?”Michael grins right back, practically tripping over his feet to get back intobed for another round.Somewhere nearby, someone pounds on the wall to tell them to shut up, and Alexlaughs as he realizes how the tables have turned. It’s someone else’s problem, because Alex has no intention of shutting up whenhe’s got Michael making noises the way he is. Let them call him all the namesin the book. It’s worth it.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

devotee.

warning/s: very dark themes (stalking, non consensual voyeurism, extreme violence, mentions of blood, talks about abusive mental disorders, obsession, death threats??), explicit smut (masturbation, unprotected sex, cum play, cunnilingus)

Please read at your own discretion.

Jaehyun’s version of Devoted. (please read this first if you haven’t before reading this one)

wc: ~12k

a/n: this is a scheduled post; i should be out of town when this gets posted, so please leave me messages about your thoughts on this!! This will give a little insight on how Jaehyun’s mind works throughout the entire Devoted!AU.

disclaimer: I don’t know anything about how therapy works (uh,,, not yet??) and the actual inner workings of it all so please excuse any blunders if there are any in that aspect!!! I’m pretty sure even the professions I’m using are wrong, so I’m sorry huehuehue ;A; feel free to educate my naive ass.

Jeon Bohyuk sighs heavily, reading through the notes from his last therapy session from months ago. It was alarming how… troubled… this family was. His own father had warned him about taking on his position, but he still pursued it. Bound by extreme secrecy and a very, very hefty paycheck; Dr. Jeon can only do as he’s told and make sure none of these sessions make it out to the public.

It was quite difficult being the Jung Conglomerate’s therapist.

His father always told him, “The Jung’s come first in any situation and problem they face.”

A knock sounds on the door and Dr. Jeon tells them to let themselves in. The familiar face peeks through the door and politely smiles like he always does.

“Ah, Jaehyun. It’s been quite awhile, hasn’t it?” He greets, standing up to move from his desk to the armchair while the newcomer sits at the velvet chaise lounge like a routine.

“Good morning, doctor.” Jaehyun sighs, sinking his body against the furniture already.

Dr. Jeon notices the bandaged hand resting on his patient’s lap, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he picks up his pen and notepad. “So, how have you been since our last meeting? I was starting to think you would never come back.”

Jaehyun stares at the ceiling for a moment and Dr. Jeon notes it down while he starts to answer him, “I might not come back for awhile after this… my girlfriend, [Y/N]...”

“Yes?”  Dr. Jeon looks up at him through his lashes, anticipating his following words. These sessions were because of her; or rather, how Jaehyun had become obsessed with her.

“She knows about my condition. The gist, at least. I didn’t mention the actual disorder; not yet… the timing wasn’t right.”

“And?” Dr. Jeon is continuously writing down in his notepad. “How did Ms. [Y/N] react?”

“Like you predicted, she was scared. But we compromised,” Jaehyun glances at him.

He nods his head and hums in approval, “That’s good. Did you willingly tell her or?”

“No, I got caught.” Jaehyun moves his bare hand over his bandaged one, “You told me during our last session that I should try putting some distance between us.”

It was to help - and also test - his (unhealthy) obsession with her. For years, he comes in for therapy sessions to talk about her and how he feels. Any other psychologists would have been alarmed, but given his family background, Dr. Jeon simply accepted that Jaehyun had found his trigger. What troubles him, however, was his wording. “Caught? What do you mean?”

“A break?” She stares up at him, “What do you mean?”

The suggestion was out of Jaehyun’s mouth before he could actually think it through. He stops walking, resulting her to stop as well. He pouts at her, pushing her stray strands of hair away from her face. “We barely have time for each other. We’re not breaking up, but we just… take a break from seeing each other to focus on finals and getting things done for graduation.”

She gives it a thought, “I guess you’re right… Plates are piling up and most of them have the same deadline.”

“I’d love to watch you work on them and cheer you on, but we hit a bump with our thesis.”

“Then I guess a break is really something we need, yeah? But we’re not technically breaking up, right?” She stretches her arms and hook them over his nape, playing with his soft, thick hair.

“Of course not.” He almost scowls, bringing a little giggle to bubble from her chest. “Until finals are over, there won’t be any seeing each other.”

“No booty calls.”

Jaehyun is visibly disheartened by this, but still nods, “No booty calls. No de-stressing together.”

“No dates,” She adds, “Even texts and phone calls?”

“No distractions at all.” There was regret in his words already. “I can’t walk you to your classes anymore.”

Truth be told, he didn’t have to walk her to her classes. His routes to his classes don’t even graze hers; he literally goes out of his way to walk her to her room, even though he could possibly be late (maybe even locked out) of his next subject.

“This is torture, Jaehyun, are you sure about this?”

Again, before he can think it through, he nods his head and it seals the deal.

Jaehyun barely lasted a day without her, constantly fighting the urge to find her or even send her a text. Halfway through the week, he busies himself with studies but always finds his mind wandering to what she was doing. At the end of the first week, he can’t congratulate himself; he needed to know how she was, what she was doing, where she’s been during her free time; he thinks about if she had pleasured herself with him running through her mind. He needed to see her, touch her, breathe her scent in. The picture on his nightstand isn’t enough, but he doesn’t have a choice. He’s done it before, and there’s no shame in doing it again, he’s just glad he has her photo protected between glasses to make it easier to clean later.

By the second week, he is back to his old habits. He’s keeping tabs on her; following her around when both their schedules are free. His mind is at ease knowing she’s keeping to herself without him, enjoying the company of her friends - people he actually trusts - and not paying attention to other guys.

Jaehyun remembers one of his therapy sessions; how Dr. Jeon talked about how his obsession with her was borderline unhealthy. He said that there was a high chance she wouldn’t like it and would probably leave him. The thought frightened Jaehyun; losing her was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. But she was so attractive; she might not see it, but he can. He can see every guy glancing at her when she enters a room or passes by. He can see their eyes glint with appreciation as it rakes down her entire being, how they would lick their lips like she was their next meal. It made his blood boil.

He follows her around not because he doesn’t trust her; he just doesn’t trust anybody else around her.

But her roommates just had to invite her out one Friday night.

There was a permanent frown on his face as he presses his back to the adjacent wall of her bedroom window.

“No. That’s too short.”

Without even looking, Jaehyun already knew what dress her roommate had pulled out of her closet. The image of her in that little black dress that stopped just above her thighs immediately sent a reaction to his crotch. He hated that dress because everything only he should see would be exposed to the world if she so much as lean forward; but he loved to fuck her in that dress. Easy access.

“It’s cute and sexy!”

‘Damn right, it is. But it’s also for my eyes only.’ Jaehyun presses himself more into the shadows when he spots some night joggers passing by.

“But Jae-”

“Last time I checked, you and Jaehyun are currently on break. Let your legs and ass breathe while they can. You’ve kept your best assets in pants or baggy shorts because Jaehyun doesn’t like it when guys ogle them.”

‘Fuck you, Minkyung. I’m supposed to like you more than Yebin.’

“Uhm, I don’t like being ogled by other guys, too.”

‘Oh, my poor baby, don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’ll regret even looking at you.’ He shifts a bit, adjusting his half-hard cock in his pants and peeking through her blinds. He almost let out a moan; she looked so… delicious in that dress. There’s no way a guy won’t be sparing her an appreciative once-over. He quietly leaves, careful not to make the metal stairs squeak under his feet.

Jaehyun knows where they were heading. He’s heard Yebin talking about it weeks ago. A quick taxi ride later, he’s seated at the far end of the bar. He had a tall glass of beer, watching the crowd from under his cap. Minutes later, he spots her and her roommates walking in. When she turned her head to the bar, he looks down to avoid her gaze. Giving it a few seconds, he cautiously looks back up to find her making her way to an empty booth.

“Jaehyun!” Someone pats his back and he’s lucky the music drowned out his voice before it could even reach to where she is. “I rarely see you drinking without your girl, man.”

Jaehyun sighs, pulling a face at the person who welcomed himself to the empty seat beside him.

Kim Mingyu was an ace player on the baseball team. He was on the basketball team for the first year of uni with Jaehyun, but switched sports during sophomore year.

“Yeah, we’re on a break.” Jaehyun might as well entertain him. In case he gets discovered by her or her roommates, he could always use Mingyu as an alibi. “We won’t have time for each other since we’re all graduating soon.”

“Tell me about it! We just had our very last training a while ago, so we’re celebrating here. Just tossed our bats and mitts in the back of our pick-ups and drove here.” Mingyu nods to his rowdy teammates over at the corner of the room. “I’m gonna miss baseball.”

“Not going pro?” Jaehyun takes a sip of his beer, briefly glancing over to her booth where a waiter delivered her cocktails.

Mingyu thanks the bartender after the beer he ordered was served to him. He chuckles, shaking his head to his question, “Nah, I don’t love the sport enough to have it become my profession. I’m going to try and be a model instead. What about you? You left basketball for your girlfriend. Talk about being whipped.”

“Basketball is just a hobby and another way to exercise for me. Besides, I’m taking over the family business so going pro isn’t an option.”

Jaehyun continues to converse with Mingyu, still checking up on her every now and then. He’s had three beers already that had his body buzzing and although it’s not enough to make him tipsy or drunk, he stops drinking and opted for water.

“Hey, man.” Mingyu slurs a bit, “It was great catching up with you, but I should go back to my teammates, it is our last night as a team.”

“You, too. Take care, Mingyu.” Jaehyun offers a weary smile as he watches his friend shakily stumbled back to where his team was. He moves his gaze back to her booth but panicked when he found it empty. Quickly, his eyes scan the dancing crowd and he’s quick to spot her. However, relief is nowhere in his system. There was a man eyeing her from behind and his gut already told him to make his way over.

But he was too late because from what it looks like, he had touched her. Her. His girlfriend. Jaehyun’s nostrils flared, standing up from his seat and pauses. Yebin had taken care of the situation immediately, stomping on the stranger’s foot and taking her away from him.

These were the rare moments Jaehyun could rely on Yebin. He continues to watch all three of them throw some cash onto their booth, grab their things, and make a beeline for the exit. He was sure she was going home, and he’ll check up on her in a minute, but he reckons he has something to deal with first as his eyes settled on the stranger that touched what had belonged to him.

Jaehyun stalks behind the stranger as he walks back to his car alone at the back of the vast, dimly lit parking lot. He pulls his hood over his head and lowers his cap. He recognizes Mingyu’s car and without thinking, grabs the nearest bat he could from the back and continues to walk up to the stranger.

Adrenaline was pumping through Jaehyun’s veins. He could only see red; he’s seething with anger as he raises the bat over his head. Before the stranger notices him, he strikes him; straight on the head. A pained cry leaves the man as he falls to the ground on his knees, clutching his head. The only coherent thought Jaehyun has in his head is the fact that this man had touched [Y/N] and that was enough to drive him to hit the man once, twice, thrice, not stopping even when blood is sprayed onto his face. He relents once the man is knocked unconscious.

Jaehyun’s breath is ragged, assessing what he had just done. Before anyone could catch him, he runs away with the baseball bat still in hand.

Dr. Jeon has removed his glasses and has been rubbing his eyes for a good minute after Jaehyun recounts his story. “Jaehyun.”

“He’s alive.” Jaehyun crosses his arms, retreating his attention back to the ceiling, already knowing where the warning mention of his name is going.

“Okay,” Dr. Jeon says, mostly to himself, “How did you feel about this? Let’s start with Ms. [Y/N] going out in a dress you deem ‘too short’ for her to wear out.”

“I’m not mad at her. Her friends forced her into it. [Y/N] is submissive; she gives into peer pressure most of the time.”

“So you were mad at her friends?”

Jaehyun half-heartedly shrugs his shoulders, “More annoyed. They got her into the mess, but they also saved her from it.”

“And this man,”

“Kim Iljung.” Jaehyun cuts in, covering his eyes with his unharmed hand.

“Oh, so you do know him?”

“No, his assault was broadcasted the next day on campus news.”

Dr. Jeon pauses, trying his best not to release another dismayed sigh. Not only did Jaehyun refer to this man’s assault like he hadn’t done it, he doesn’t sound remorseful at all. “Okay, this Mr. Kim Iljung… do you think he deserved to be punished like that? Were you satisfied with what had happened to him?”

Without another beat, Jaehyun nods. “Yes.”

The incident at the bar must have scared her off, Jaehyun assumes, because after classes, she goes straight home to either rest up or study. It’s been nine weeks, and yes, he knows, he counts each day he hasn’t sent her a text. He knew she was home, probably asleep, but he was out for a jog so he thought he would stop by - by her window, he means. Sneaking up the emergency stairs, he peers into her room and cusses under his breath, “Oh shit.”

She had music playing loud enough that it escapes through the closed window. She left the lights open for some reason while she lay on her bed, stripped naked, legs spread apart and fingers dancing on her clit.

Jaehyun inwardly groans, kneeling down to get a better view and hide himself in the shadows. He’s palming himself, biting down on his lower lip to prevent him from being too loud. When he sees her slip a finger in, he pushes the band of his shorts down and takes his cock out of the fly of his briefs. He’s already leaking; throbbing in his hold. For weeks, he relied only on his memories and her pictures to avoid getting blue balls.

He can explode with only a few pumps while watching her pleasure herself. Even better that she had moaned followed with a whimper of his name.

“Yes, baby that’s it.” He couldn’t stop himself from saying, furiously chasing after his high when he sees she added another finger. He can’t wait for her to come first, he’ll need to leave soon.

When her free hand goes over her breast to give it a tight grip with a soft cry with name; Jaehyun can feel his balls tightening. If only she could see him, coming undone from the sight of her masturbating with the thought of him. God, he loves her.

Unable to contain it any longer, Jaehyun comes; squirting his seed onto the window pane. A groan escapes him and he knows she must have heard it; noticing how she suddenly stops and looks around the room. He ducks away while tucking himself back into his shorts just as she looks to where he was and decides in a split second to jump down from the second floor and hide among the trash bins.

“Fuck.” He breathes, landing on his feet and ducking between the garbage cans. Looking up, he sees her poke her head out the window and looking down the emergency staircase. He holds his breath in, hoping he’s completely concealed in the shadows, releasing it only when she shivers a little and retreat back into the room. When he hears her slam the window close and draw the curtains, he waits a few more seconds before standing up, dusting himself off, and walking away as casual as possible.

“Do you think what you did was wrong? Or do you think it was okay because she’s your girlfriend?” Dr. Jeon puts his pen down for second to stretch his cramping hand.

“I don’t think anything’s wrong with it. Like you said, she’s my girlfriend.”

“But did you consider how she would have felt about it?”

Jaehyun curtly laughs, “[Y/N] is an exhibitionist. I’m sure she would have liked it.”

Dr. Jeon hums, “Even if she didn’t know you actually were?”

Jaehyun falls silent, resuming his stare off with the ceiling.

“If she would have liked it as you claim, why did you run off?”

“Because we were on break,” Jaehyun snaps, “That were the rules we set.”

“Rules you had long broken. I know these sessions are for you, Jaehyun, but if you really love Ms. [Y/N], you would consider how this would affect her own mental health in the long run.”

With a deep sigh, Jaehyun’s brows knit together, “I know.”

Finals were next week. Jaehyun found out from Johnny that [Y/N] was spending an all-nighter at the library. He had just finished reviewing for the first three exams he decided to take a night jog to destress; also excusing it to check up on her and probably watch over her if she were to walk back to her dorm in the dead of the night.

After a few laps around the university park, he makes a quick detour towards the library where he chances upon her leaving. It was about time to cool down so he slows down to a stride, stops his playlist, and follows her, leaving a good distance between the two of them.

What he didn’t expect was [Y/N] making her own detour; walking towards the gymnasium. Jaehyun is confused; it’s been hours since it was closed. How was she getting in?

He watches in amusement as she jumps the fence after a quick scan of her environment, causing him to duck behind a tree. Without hesitating, he follows after her once more. When he enters the gymnasium with the same door she had just unlocked and just barely catches her slipping into the hall that leads to the pool, he should have known where she was off to.

The sound of water sloshing and her soft moan echoes from the open door, bringing a little grin on Jaehyun’s face. He loved watching her swim. He could tell how happy she is when she swam. Before he knows it, he walks up until the edge of the pool; watching her swim down to the bottom and noting the bright red underwear set she had. He looks over to the side and sees her bag and discarded clothes.

“Oh my god! Jaehyun!” He whips his head towards her, “You scared me!”

It wasn’t his intention to be discovered, but he’s not going to let the chance of seeing her swim up close pass. He takes out his earphones and chuckles, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns at him, “How did you even know I was here?”

“I was out for a jog when I saw you jump the fence.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. When she blushes at the fact she was caught trespassing, Jaehyun squats down and smiles at her, “If anything, I should be asking you why you’re sneaking into the pool after closing time.”

Then he felt his breath hitch when she bites down on her lip, swimming over to where he stood, “The past weeks have been hard on me and I need to destress. Won’t you help me, Jae?”

He wants to say ‘yes,’ but he just stared her down,  “I don’t think that’s how taking breaks from a relationship works, [Y/N].”

“We’ve made it this far, Jae. Can’t we cheat this break thing?”

Already have, babe.

“[Y/N]” He warns, although he can feel his resolve crumbling down already.

“Please, Jae. For me?” She unconsciously bats her lashes at him and he’s annoyed at himself at how he loves that.

Sighing, Jaehyun shrugs, “I don’t have my swimming trunks.”

She giggles at him, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m in my underwear.”

He watches her a little bit more and he thinks she must have thought he was hesitating, because she reaches up and unzips his jacket for him. “Do you need help or are you going to let me play by myself?”

‘Not this time, baby.’ He thinks, smirking as he rises from the ground, discarding his jacket, and peeling his shirt away.

Jaehyun pretends he doesn’t see her practically salivating when she sees his body. He pushes his running shorts down and stands in his black boxers.

She’s biting down on your lips again when he kicks his shoes off and he smirks at her before diving head first into the water. When he resurfaced, he has her trapped on the other side of the pool after swimming underneath her; trying to chase her as she playfully swim away.

Jaehyun wipes away the excess water off his face while she wraps her arms around his shoulders.

“Hi.” She whispers, laughing when he flashes her a smile as she helps push his wet hair back.

“Hi.” He breathes, grabbing onto her thighs and guiding her legs around him. “So you needed to destress?”

She nods her head, sliding the hand that pushed his hair back down the side of his face. “How are you gonna help me?”

A number of options spill through his mind as he pulls her hips closer and grinds his erection against her crotch, eliciting a cute, silent gasp from her. “I can think of a few things.”

“C-care to show me?” She stutters and Jaehyun found it so endearing that he just had to kiss her for it.

The open kiss was messy and sloppy, and it was desperate, needy, and hungry. It was absolutely carnal, especially when she claws his bare back, looking for support as she slid down his body. Jaehyun pushes her against the side of the pool for leverage while his tongue invades her mouth, stroking her own as one of his hands roughly grabs her breasts, pushing it above the water’s surface.

He watches her throw her head back and rested it against the poolside as he clumsily thumbs her hardened nipples before leaning down to trail a sloppy kiss from her cheek, to her jaw, and stopped short on the side of her neck.

Jaehyun was losing it. He needed to have her then and there; but then a high pitched whistle hurls him back to reality.

“Shame on you two, fucking in a public pool.” Deep laughter follows afterwards.

He glares over to the entrance where a group of boys watched in amusement. He can feel [Y/N] shrink into him, obviously humiliated, and he covers her body from them.

“Do you mind?” He snaps at them, defensively putting his arms around her.

“Yeah, man, we do mind.” One of them hollers, “We wanted to swim in sperm-free water.”

“Jae, let’s just go.” She whispers to him, but he doesn’t react immediately; dark eyes glaring straight to the space behind her. His breathing had slowed and became heavy with explicit images of what he could possibly do to them, if only she wasn’t present.

“Jaehyun,” She cups his cheek and makes him face her, “Baby, let’s just go.”

It takes him another second to react. He closes his eyes, ignoring the violent thoughts, and kisses her forehead. “Okay.”

The guys didn’t pay attention to them anymore as they jumped into the far end of the pool. Jaehyun helped her get out of the pool and instinctively, he checked on the guys as he got out after her. Just as he expected, one of them was checking her out while she bent over to grab her things.

“Hey!” He shouts, “I’d appreciate it if you stopped checking my girlfriend out.”

“Can’t help it, man. No wonder you can’t keep your hands off of her.” And this asshole had the gall to look at her once more in an overly appreciative manner that made his blood boil like the incident at the bar.

Jaehyun balls his fists up, trying to get the rational side of him to calm himself down.

“Jaehyun, leave him alone. It’s not worth our time, come on.” She reminds him; her words and worried tone alone was enough to calm him, but the asshole just had to interrupt.

“Do her real good, man!”

He’s seeing red again, mind completely flooded with ways on how to beat this guy up, but she’s holding onto him with a vice grip and begging softly, “Baby, please, I just want to go home.”

And he finally relents to her request. Snatching the rest of their clothing up, they both head for the locker rooms to dry up and dress before leaving the premises.

“Let me walk you home.” Jaehyun pulls her to his side after seeing her shiver.  After a while, he quietly says, “I’m sorry about those dickheads.”

“It’s not your fault. Maybe it’s the universe saying we shouldn’t be cheating on taking a break.” She huddles closer to him when a breeze blew by. “But I really miss you, Jae.”

This makes him happy. He kisses the top of her head, “I miss you, too. We have a week left. I think we can hold out until then.”

“Until then? Hold out, what exactly?” She teases, spinning on her heels as they arrive at the doorstep of her dorm.

He leans down and kisses the spot between her jaw and ear. “What could have happened back in the pool and so much more in the privacy of our homes.” He purposely whispers in a deep and low tone, tickling her ear and making her pull away with a short laugh.

“I can’t wait, then.” She flirtatiously says, and he leans down to kiss her lips. “Get home safely, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for not helping you destress.” Jaehyun slightly pouts at her and she smiles at him.

“I had this time with you.” She shrugs her shoulders, “It helped.”

“You can always play with yourself again.” He chuckles under his breath, and a little louder, says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She quietly responded.

He hopes she didn’t hear what he said as he walks away. Waiting for the sound of the dorm doors closing, he looks back to see she had already entered. She’s back in the safety of her home, but Jaehyun still feels unsettled with what had happened back at the pool.

Forget the serious case of blue balls; he’s furious; immensely angered by the guys - especially the one who basically undressed her with his eyes and wasn’t ashamed to show it. He pulls his phone out to check the time. It’s past midnight and the guys are probably still at the pool.

By the time Jaehyun returns to the gymnasium, the guys were all leaving; not even being sneaky about it. The typical troublemaking frat boys from the other side of the campus, Jaehyun thinks with a scoff. He memorizes their faces as they noisily went home before he does the same.

It takes Jaehyun a few days to find the guy who disrespected [Y/N]. He finds him smoking behind the bleachers of the soccer field all alone - perfect. He had requested for two bodyguards to accompany him just in case he had his friends with him.

The guy recognizes him when he approaches, a lazy grin growing on his face. “Hey, weren’t you that dude at the pool with the hot girl?”

Jaehyun’s fist are already balled up at his side. So the fucker remembers him because of [Y/N]? Oh, boy.

“What’s up, man? Did you need a light?” He cheers, taking his lighter out from his pocket and handed it to Jaehyun.

It disgusts him at how he thinks it’s okay to talk to him like they were long time friends.

He ignores the lighter and stares him down, “I don’t like how you looked at my girlfriend and made crude comments about her.”

The guy looks at him like he had said something stupid, snorting, “What? Aw, come on, man, don’t act like you didn’t finish elsewhere. Besides, your girlfriend? In that little red thing? I would have-”

He couldn’t finish his lewd statement because Jaehyun reels his arm back and swings a clean cut across this stranger’s face, sending him stumbling back to the floor.

“Don’t you fucking say shit about her.” Jaehyun growls, still trying to keep himself grounded and avoid sending the guy to the hospital - mostly because he’s had a good look at his face.

“Jongmin?! Yo, what’s going on here?” Four other guys show up but Jaehyun’s already taking two steps towards the closest one and throws a hard punch on their jaw.

Everything after that was a blur. The next thing he knew his bodyguards are restraining his arms and pulling him up from the ground where one of the guys were groaning, nose bleeding profusely. Jaehyun blinks at him, eyes darting to the other bodies scattered around, writhing in pain and covered in bruises.

His bodyguards are asking him if he’s okay; if he needs to go to the hospital or be escorted home. Jaehyun’s body is both numb but also buzzing with adrenaline. Did he do this by himself?

“I’m okay. Take care of them. Pay them to shut up.” He drags his thumb on the corner of his mouth where he felt something wet, pulling away to see dark red smudged across his finger.

“You weren’t aware of your actions while you were performing them?” Dr. Jeon repeats, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge.

Jaehyun shakes his head, sipping from the tea he requested before starting the session. “Like I blacked out.”

Dr. Jeon hums once again, reading over what he had jotted down. “So like with what had happened to Mr. Iljung, you believe they deserved what had happened to them?”

“Yes.”

“And you were satisfied with it?”

“Of course.”

“Despite the injury your received?” Dr. Jeon gestures to his hand and Jaehyun dryly laughs at him.

“I didn’t get this from them.”

This was the last day of finals for everyone. This was the day Jaehyun can finally have her back in his arms. She should be done with her last exam already while he still had one more to take. Ten told him that everyone was going to celebrate at the mall, so Jaehyun said he’d catch up once he finishes his exam. But he couldn’t wait at all. He rarely flexes his wealth, but if it meant being with her again, he’d do it in an instant.

His professor wasn’t so keen about letting him take the exam 30 minutes earlier; but with the reasoning that it’s better than having him taken later on that would be more suspicious and a few thousand bills slipped in, he took the exam half an hour earlier than his classmates and finished just before any of them come inside the room.

He’s buzzing with excitement, fidgeting in his seat as he had a chauffeur drive him to the mall instead of hailing a cab to save time. She must be feeling the same way, waiting for him to come to her and end the stupid break.

But when he finds her enjoying herself, laughing boisterously and poking fun at Doyoung, he was… dismayed. He knows they go way back and is very aware of Doyoung’s sexual orientation, yet jealousy nipped at him. He sees her eyes fluttering over at him and for some reason, he dodges out of view when she looks away.

Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He knows there’s no reason for him to feel this way. Maybe it’s just excitement from being able to be with her. He goes to the men’s bathroom to collect his thoughts before returning to where she was.

When he sees her and the rest walking towards a fast food joint, he cheers himself up, mischievously creeping up behind her and Doyoung, who had his arm around her shoulders, with intentions to scare her, but then he hears:

“You’re lucky I love you-”

And something came over Jaehyun that just took control of his entire being.

He grabs Doyoung by his shoulder and punches him in the face strong enough to push him to the floor, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? Keeping her warm for me?”

“Dude, what the hell?!” Doyoung scrambles onto his feet with Ten’s help.

He tries to step forward but [Y/N] blocks him, “Jae, what is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with  me? I finished my exam early and rushed here to see you, but I see him,” He juts his chin towards Doyoung, “With his arm around you.”

“What’s happening here?” A mall security guard approached your group.

“A misunderstanding, nothing we can’t handle ourselves. Sorry for the trouble.” She bows her head at him and grab Jaehyun’s arm. “Can we talk outside?”

He casts a glare at Doyoung before letting her pull him out. On the way to the exit, Jaehyun recognizes the group of boys he ‘talked’ to last week. They were laughing to themselves, only to abruptly stop when they see him and immediately bow their heads and steer clear from his path. Jaehyun could feel the power coursing through his veins at the sight.

[Y/N] spins around to face him once they were both in the parking lot,  “Do you want to explain yourself for what you did back there?”

Jaehyun frowns at her; realizing the weight of his outburst, “He had his arm around you.”

“I - Jae! He is Doyoung. Kim Doyoung. My best friend since pre-school. My best friend who is asexual. You know that!”

“He can’t be asexual forever. For all we know, he’s already got a crush on you!”

She looks exasperated, “Why are you being jealous of him? He’s my best friend and will always just be my best friend.”

“He just said he loves you!”

“And I love him back, as in, platonically, which I think is what he meant!” She groans in frustration. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Jaehyun scowls at her. Can’t she see what the reason behind why he did that? “I’m being protective of my girlfriend!”

She purses her lips and stares him down, “Your girlfriend that you’re technically on a break with.”

“What?” His feels his body tense up. Finals are over, therefore the break is over, too.

“Maybe we should extend the break for a week or two.” She began to step back, but he follows.

“What?” Jaehyun repeats, eyes wide and full of worry, “Why?”

“Because, Jae,” He flinches at her tone, “I need time to get over what you just did inside to my best friend and you need time to contemplate over your actions and apologize to Doyoung.”

“(Y/N).” He whines. This can’t be happening.

“Jaehyun, please.” She crossed her arms over her chest, defensively, and this stops him in his tracks; dejectedly looking at her with pleading eyes, hoping it wavers her but she just shook her head with regret and turned away, walking to the mall front.

Jaehyun watches her, heart racing so fast and hard that he feels like he’s having a heart attack. She’s walking away from him. On her own volition. Angry. At him. He wants to be mad, too. Not at her. Not at Doyoung, but at himself. This isn’t how he’d imagine ending the break to be like. He thought he could take her out on a date, not extend the stupid thing one week longer all because he couldn’t stop himself.

There’s nothing he could do right now, except fix his mess with Doyoung. He had to let her cool off. He sees her get in a car that he presumes to be an Uber and now he feels twice as bad that he spoiled her celebration with her friends.

Jaehyun returns inside and finds Doyoung coming from the men’s bathroom. “Doyoung!”

Doyoung looks at him and immediately looks both annoyed and apprehensive as he walks up to him.

“Are you okay?”

“A little sore, but I’m not bleeding or feel like my nose is broken.”

Jaehyun sighs, “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Doyoung shifts his weight to one leg and crosses his arms, “It’s not a secret you’re obsessed with [Y/N], Jaehyun. I get that you’re possessive of her and all that, but you need to remember she’s my best friend. She’s practically a sister to me.”

“I know. I know.” He groans, massaging his temples. “I just really don’t know what came over. Look, you’re the only other guy I trust [Y/N] with. I’m more at ease when I know she’s out partying with you guys when you’re around - don’t tell Ten, I won’t hear the end of it.”

This makes Doyoung chuckle, “I feel the same way. I mean, you can get out of hand… but I think she’s safer with you than with anybody else.”

“That means a lot to me, Doyoung.” Jaehyun weakly smiles at him, “I’m really sorry again. I can take you to the hospital and pay for everything.”

“I swear, I’m okay. Let’s just have dinner with the rest.”

He shakes his head, “I’ll skip this time. [Y/N] went home already and I don’t feel good about upsetting her.”

He offers him a sympathetic smile, “Don’t stress about it. Let her cool down for a day or two and the whole thing will blow over sooner than you think.”

Jaehyun believed Doyoung, but it’s been three days and not a single peep from her. She was probably holding onto her word about extending the break for a whole, full week, but Jaehyun was at his wit’s end. He distracted himself by going to the gym, taking multiple jogs, or just simply locking himself up his room and waiting for some online activity from her.

He needed to do something.

After an afternoon run, Jaehyun picks up a cheap, old prepaid phone and returns home to shower. He pulls on a shirt and some ripped jeans, and sits on his bed while punching in her phone number on the old phone. He hesitates pressing the faded green phone icon button on the small device; he knows this is going to traumatize her. But what else can he do? He can’t just wait anymore.

He flips the phone close and tucks it into his pocket. Johnny isn’t sleeping here tonight, so Jaehyun doesn’t have to be worried about looking suspicious as he sneaks in and out of their dorm. Before he leaves, he grabs a hoodie and a mask.

It was past 8 when Jaehyun arrives at her dorm; it was dark already thanks to the sky being covered with thick clouds and the sidewalks barely illuminated by the street lamps. Her room had no light in it and Jaehyun finds it odd, but decides against walking up the emergency stairs. He takes the old phone out of his pocket and dials her number, putting the device to his ear.

It rings thrice before she picks up, her groggy voice told Jaehyun she was merely asleep. “Hello?”

Jaehyun wants to talk to her, but he keeps quiet; focusing on the background noise at her end. He hears the volume of the television soften and the distinct squeak of her couch as he assumes she was sitting up from it.

“Hello? Who is this?” She asks again, yet he still doesn’t say anything as he carefully walks up to the front of the dorm where the window of her living room was. He can make out her figure by the window; watching her walk away from it after she had hung up on him.

He’s hidden by tall shrubs as he tries to guess what she was doing inside. She didn’t open the living room lights, but the soft glow emanating from the window tells him she was in the kitchen. His own phone vibrates and he quickly checks it, seeing that she was online and liking posts and photos of their friends. He quietly monitors her activity until he sees her reacting to Taeyong’s photo.

Taeyong was his friend. He introduced them to each other and even he can’t deny how good looking the boy was. He’d normally let it pass, but she specifically used the ‘heart eyes’ react button and she only ever use that on his posts for her and never with anybody else. Jealousy is creeping back over him, momentarily disrupted by the distinct sound of Minkyung and Yebin talking loudly as they approach their dorm.

Jaehyun ducks down and waits for them to enter the building before he redials her number, pulling the hood of his jacket until it shadowed his face and putting his mask on to cover half of his face. He’s angry; he doesn’t mean to be, but it’s the only thing he can feel at the moment.

She sounded aggravated when she picked his call up, “Hello? Hello? This better not be a prank call.”

He wanted to laugh at how cute she was trying to be intimidating. He doesn’t try to hide his breathing this time, letting it barely fill the silence of his end of the call.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Jaehyun looks up and he sees her… staring at him.

Well, hello there.

He lets out a soft heave and ends the call when she starts screaming.

He quickly fleas the scene, especially hearing her roommates’ concerned shouts. As he runs away, he takes out the battery of the old phone and tosses it in the bushes when he was a good five blocks away. When he’s back at home, he’s experiencing a flurry of emotions; he’s worried about her, first and foremost, he had never heard her scream like that before. He also felt disgusted at himself for scaring her. He feels a bit antsy because what if someone had seen him? But among these, he doesn’t regret what he had done. It felt like the only way - to him, at least - for her to go back to him.

Jaehyun, like most nights, couldn’t sleep at all; but when he does, it only lasted three hours. He was fully awake by 10AM because he receives a text from Johnny asking if he wanted food. Doyoung had graciously called him thrice last night, but didn’t pick up to make it seem like he slept early and responded to his messages in faux panic when he woke up.

Johnny’s home by 11 and Jaehyun is waiting for her to text him on the couch.

“Flowers for you, good sir.” Johnny fakes an English accent as he hands the bouquet Jaehyun requested to him. “And a nice, warm continental breakfast for brunch.”

He helps him prepare their food on the coffee table, promising to pay him for the flowers.

“Hey, I heard from Ten about [Y/N]. Is she okay?” Johnny slides him the tupperware of pancakes.

“I don’t know. Doyoung says she is and her roommates are taking care of her.” Jaehyun lets out a sigh to convince Johnny how worried he was. “I wish I hadn’t slept early. I would have gone to her immediately if I knew what had happened.”

Johnny nods, “At least she wasn’t physically harmed.”

“I hope they find that fucker.” He hopes the fuck not.

After eating, Jaehyun excuses himself to get ready to visit her. In the privacy of his room, he starts to get excited. There’s a certain way he wishes the scenarios turns out. He likes to imagine that she’ll run up to him and realize how much safer she is with him. He’ll finally get to kiss her and she’ll let him take over -

Damn it.

He didn’t think he was that excited, but it’s nothing he can’t take care of. So he stands in front of her picture and takes care of himself, promising to himself that he’ll clean it up once he gets back from your place.

He’s in the shower afterwards, generously lathering himself and scrubbing away the sins he committed against her. He wants to be quick, but he also wants to take his time to prepare for her - because she would take all these extra steps for him when they would meet, why shouldn’t he do the same? He’s so excited to see her that he thinks he hears her calling out to him from his bedroom.

After he finally rinses off and dries his hair, he throws on a loose shirt and boxer shorts on. He leaves his towel over his head while he brushes his teeth and uses it to wipe his lips after spitting. As he exits his bathroom, he stops in his tracks.

Was he excited enough to hallucinate? But he was sure that was her, turned away from him in the middle of his room.

“[Y/N]?”

She gasps, spinning around to face him. He caught the briefest flash of fear in her eyes and he realizes that evidences of last night were present all around the room. He was ready to explain himself, but then she’s choking out a sob and running towards him.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He automatically wraps his arms around her, smoothing her hair down. “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

He holds her tight, letting her cry out the remaining fear from the previous night; feeling just a tiny but guilty while placing kisses on her head and rubbing her back.

“Oh god,” She breathes in deeply, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” He pulls away, tilting her face towards him. “How are you? Did you get any sleep? If I found out any sooner, I would have gone over to you.”

She shakes her head, “I couldn’t sleep properly, even though Yebin and Minkyung stayed with me.”

Doyoung must haven’t told her he’s been updating him about how she was. “Have you eaten at least? Let me cook something for you to eat.”

“I-I… Don’t leave me here.”

Jaehyun offers her a soft smile, “No one’s going to hurt you while I’m around. But if you really don’t want to stay in my room, you can come with me to the kitchen.”

He leads her to the kitchen by the hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. He makes small talk with her to get her mind off about last night, listening intently at her response while he fries some eggs and slices of pork. It didn’t take too long for him to serve it to her with some reheated rice from last night.

“Eat up, baby girl.”

“Baby girl?” She smirks, “Should I call you daddy, then?”

Jaehyun laughs, feeling his cheeks warm up. “Be careful what you wish for.” He whispers into her ear, trying to sound seductive but ends up chuckling.

He watches her eat and from time to time, letting her feed him some. His mind is daydreaming all of a sudden; this is what he wants to see in the future: feeding her meals in her shared home, keeping her safe and happy, being hers and vice versa.

“What are your plans after graduation?” He asks out of the blue.

“My plans?” She repeats after swallowing.

He nods, waiting for her to answer.

“Get a job?” She shrugs, “I haven’t thought about that at all, actually.”

“How about moving into a new apartment?”

She pauses for a moment, “I don’t know if I can afford it, but my contract for my apartment right now ends two months after graduation so I should probably look into it.”

“Well,” Jaehyun massages his nape and avoids her gaze; he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly nervous about asking, “My parents graduation gift for me is my own apartment room in downtown Seoul. I was wondering if, you know, you’d want to move in with me.”

She stares at him and he stares back, waiting. “Will your parents be okay with that? I mean, I thought you and Johnny would still be sharing an apartment.”

“He and Ten have their own plans, besides, I’m not sharing a bed with Johnny.” That makes her giggle and he lets out a short chuckle of his own, “And about my parents… they love you like their own daughter. They wouldn’t mind. I’m willing to bet they’re hoping for grandchildren in two years.”

“Woah there, big boy.” She laughs, “How about we take baby steps instead of hoping of seeing our baby take their first ones, huh?”

“Tell that to my parents.” He grumbles like a child and sees her reaching up to pinch his cheeks. His parents have always been vocal about wanting her to be the mother of their grandchildren; if only he knew how much he wishes that, too.

“Anyways, I’d love to.”

He blinks at her, breaking out of his reverie “Hm?”

“I’d love to move in with you.”

It takes a second for Jaehyun to grin at your answer and he swears it’s stretching his cheeks out too much that it almost hurts, “Really?”

She giggles at his reaction, biting down on her lower lip while she nods. “Yes, really.”

He pulls her in for multiple kisses, making her laugh in between each one. He kisses her longer and he could feel her body reacting to him already. His tongue grazes her lips and she instantly grants him access into her mouth, moaning at the sensation of his tongue sliding against hers.

His hands snake onto her thighs, roughly massaging them before pulling her tightly against his body. She clings onto him; mouths undetached as he hauls her up and takes her back to the bedroom.

Jaehyun sets her down on his bed with utmost care like she was a one of a kind piece of fine china. He pulls away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between their lips before it snaps as he straightened himself to remove his shirt.

He’s been waiting for this for too long.

“Oh, god.” She groans, “I can’t believe I lasted 4 months.” She palms him over his boxers with one hand while the other travelled upwards, fingers dancing across the expanse of the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest. Before she can slip her hands into his shorts, he grabs both of her wrists.

“I still owe you a destresser.” Jaehyun reminds her with a matching smirk.

She lets him undress her, his eyes darting to every newly exposed skin and dropping each of clothing articles on the floor by his feet. When she’s finally stripped off of all her clothes and underwear, he gently pushes her back until she’s lying on the bed. With a light tap on her thighs, her legs part to make room for him and it pleases him so much at how receptive she is to him.

He removes his boxers and kneels on the bed, stroking himself as he eyes her pussy. He leans down and kisses her, “I’m going to show you how much I missed you.”

“Don’t hold back.” She challenged and he playfully scoffs at her.

“When have I ever held back?”

Before she could answer, Jaehyun dips a finger into her core. A shaky sigh escapes her as he languidly moves his finger around, feeling her inner walls and how wet she was.

“Show me how much you missed me first.” He quietly says, almost begging, “Use my hand.”

She was whimpering softly while she covered his hand with her own, grinding her clit into his palm. Her fingers tapped onto his middle finger and he understood what she wanted, inserting it along with his pointer finger. He dragged them against her inner walls that caused her to softly moan.

God, she was so hot.

She lifted her hips up, hoping to get some more leverage but he flexes his middle finger and it brushes against something spongy inside her, making her gasp and dropping her weight back down to the bed.

‘Don’t worry, baby,’ Jaehyun thinks, ‘I’ll take care of you.’

With no warning, he pumps his fingers into her, curling them inside before pulling out. He knows how much she loves that and he can feel her body already starting to convulse. He continued his actions, going harder and faster, ignoring the signs of her oncoming orgasm.

She lets out a cry, grabbing onto his wrist with both hands as her body violently shook.

Not wasting any time, Jaehyun takes whatever essence of her climax his fingers collected and smears it over his cock, giving it a few more pumps before he slides it in her.

Her moan may or may not have been too loud for the neighbors to hear, but he didn’t give a fuck. His baby wants to be loud because of him and only him, then let them send noise complaints. Despite being sensitive and still high from her orgasm, he watches her trying to spread her thighs further for him.

Her pussy is sucking him in as he bottoms out in her and it’s driving him crazy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight. You feel amazing.” He mumbles before he begins to thrust, slow and deep. He leans over and kisses her neck, alternating between sucking and licking every patch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“I’m going to mark you so other guys wouldn’t think twice about hitting on you, okay?” He thrusts a little too hard to punctuate his question and she groans in response.

“Yes, yes,” She gasps, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “I’m yours.”

He lets out an animalistic growl he didn’t know he could make, hips moving more erratically with her words. “Say that again.”

“I’m yours.” She chants, almost like a prayer.

With every repetition of her invocation, Jaehyun snaps his hips into her, gaining more speed and power. She’s all he’s ever wanted and here she is offering herself to him, willingly admitting herself to him. It’s enough to make him cum but he holds out for her.

Her body thrashed against him as he gave her a second orgasm for the night. He helps her ride it out, keeping her hips still as he shallowly pushed into Her. She clenched around him and he moans at the sensation.

“Shit, that feels so good, baby.” He rasps, throwing his head back. Too good.

“Won’t you come?” She asked with a pout.

If she only knew the power she held on him; he could explode any second now.

Miraculously, he somehow controls himself as he slows his thrusts and studies the state of her body; still shivering from her high, how his kisses on her neck have bloomed into a bouquet of purple flowers, how her breasts rose with every haggard breath. He takes one into his hand, softly palming it. “I’m getting there.”

“Is there anything you want me to do?” Her pouty lips were so tempting that it gave him an idea.

He pulls out all of a sudden and crawls until his knees are on either side of her chest. “Open up.”

Obediently, she parts her lips and sticks her tongue out a little.

He groans; she looked so innocent but lewd at the same time. Taking his cock into his hand and pumping as fast as he can, he places the tip on her tongue when beads of pre-cum ooze out.

She licks it up immediately, as if to coax him to ejaculate by running her tongue on the underside of his cock’s head.

Jaehyun is hissing out curses one after the other as he finally found the final push he needed to come. White, hot liquid shoots into her mouth and amidst of her swallowing it, the remaining cum splashes onto her cupid’s bow, cheek, and chin. He cries out in anguish when she pushes herself up to suck him dry with hollowed cheeks. As she falls back to bed, one last spurt escapes him and hits her brow.

Seeing it dribble down her eyelid, he uses his thumb to swipe it off. He tried to clean it on his sheets, but she grabs hold of his wrist and guides it to her mouth, collecting the salty substance with her tongue.

“Jesus christ, [Y/N].” Jaehyun exhales, feeling his cock twitch at the salacious scene and how her tongue swirled around his finger.

“I just missed how you tasted.” She giggles, kissing his thumb. “Still delicious.”

He combs her sweat-slicked hair and chuckles, “Well, I’m sure you taste sweeter.”

She juts out her lower lip at him, feigning innocence, “How would you know? You haven’t tasted me in months.”

“Oh?” His eyes glaze over once again, “Is that a challenge?”

“Baby,” She cooed, “It’s an invitation.”

She’s going to be the death of him, he thinks as he smirks at her. “Don’t mind if I do, then.” He trails a kiss from between her breasts down to her navel. His tongue licks her clit, lightly lapping up her juices as he moves lower. He hears her moan and feels her body reacting; encouraging him to keep going. He uses a hand to spread her lips apart and probes her entrance in slow, sensual figures of eights with his tongue.

But then he realizes that she had stopped responding to his actions, so he pulls away and looks at her. She was staring off to the side and his gaze follows hers and once he spots what had grabbed her attention, he hovers above her and places a hand on either side of her head.

“Look at me.” He commands.

“You couldn’t have…” She murmurs, looking back at you with concerned eyes.

There’s no way out of this. There’s clearly blood on that bat he keeps forgetting to dispose of. He had to explain himself.

“He touched you.” He simply states, devoid of any emotion.

“Jaehyun!” She reprimands, but he cuts her off.

“He disrespected you, [Y/N]. I wasn’t going to let that pass by!”

“How did you even know I was the bar? Were you following me?”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe!”

She pushes him off, scooting off the bed and picking out her clothes from the floor. “Well, I was! Yebin and Minkyung were there with me. We left before he could do anything else. You didn’t have to beat him up with a bat! Jesus christ! Jae! You’re wanted by campus police.”

“He got what he deserved, [Y/N].” He coolly shrugs his shoulders, grabbing his boxers and slipping them on while watching her dress.

“And what about those guys from the pool?” She suddenly looks back at him, accusingly.

“I only meant to go after the one who couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” Jaehyun admits, “But his friends came looking for him, so I had to deal with them as well.”

“You took them by your--” She shuts her eyes in frustration and disbelief.

‘Trust me, love, I didn’t think I could do it by myself’ He inwardly scoffs, staring at her intently, ‘But I did, for you.’

Suddenly, she’s staring at him with an unreadable expression. Her gaze shifts to his study table where he left his mask and burner phone on. “...w-were you the guy last night?”

Just admit it all, Jung.

“Yes. I was outside your window, too, when you masturbated.”

She gapes at him with horrified astonishment, crying, “Why?! You scared me shitless!”

“That was the point.” He almost rolled his eyes at her.

Her jaw drops, unable to formulate a proper response, nevertheless, he continues to explain himself.

“I had to scare you back to me.”

“What?!”

“I was losing you.” His voice finally breaks from the monotony and raises an octave higher. “You asked for an extension when I was at my limit. I missed you!”

“I was mad! You punched my best friend, Jaehyun! I had the right to be! And it didn't mean you were losing me. I just needed time to cool down!” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Never, in the four years, they have spent together did they argue like this. “I can’t do this.”

Jaehyun’s ears start to ring at her words.

She tries to leave but he blocks her path.

“Can’t do what?” His voice had dropped, glaring her down.

She’s visibly taken aback from his demeanor, hindering her to respond to him, so he asks again in a raised voice.

“Can’t do what, [Y/N]?!”

“Let me go, Jae. I need to go.”

“Go where? Who are you running off to, huh? Doyoung? Taeyong?”

“Why are you dragging Taeyong into this?”

Jaehyun scowls, “I saw you giving his picture a heart eyes react.”

“Oh my god!” She shouts, “Do you hear yourself right now? So I liked his new photo because I thought his new hairstyle looked good. He’s our friend, remember? Jaehyun, please, let me leave.”

“And what? Extend our break even more? I don’t think so.” He reaches for her hand, but she avoids him. “[Y/N].”

“You’re honestly scaring me right now.” She backs away until she’s pressed up against the wall. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because I love you, [Y/N],” He steps forward, doing his very best to control himself at the moment, “Everything I do is for you. I have to protect you. If you could only see how other guys look at you, how they would undress you with their eyes - I, I can’t let them disrespect you like that. They need to know that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“And if you really, really do love me, Jae,” Her eyes begin to tear up, “You would let me leave.”

What? Leave?

“No. W-why?” His eyebrows scrunched up in frustration “Do you want to break up?”

She’s stumbling over her words, “I’m really scared right now, Jaehyun. Just please give me time to think--”

“Answer me!” He yelled, making her flinch in her spot. The last thread that kept him sane had snapped. He traps her against the wall, “Are you thinking about breaking up with me?”

“I don’t feel safe with you right now.” She breathes.

Her words were barely audible but they rang like sirens in Jaehyun’s ears. His head keeps repeating it over and over again: she’s not safe with you.

His vision bleeds red and he already knows what’s going to happen so he steps away from her, his subconsciousness reminding him to keep her out of harm’s way. He needed to hit something and it definitely won’t be her. His eyes get wet and blurry as they searched around the room for something, and they fell on the full length mirror attached to the bathroom door. Huffing, he takes two large steps towards it and swings as hard as he can.

He thinks he hears her screams as his fist connected to the mirror, creating a large, cracked web onto it. He lets the pain throb from his knuckles, before he repeatedly punches the mirror, over and over again; smashing chunks of the glass and sending them crashing to the floor.

“Jae, stop!” He thinks she yelled that to him, but he’s unsure. He just wants to let it out.

But he feels her grabbing his arms and stopping him, “Jaehyun!”

“Go away! I don’t want to hurt you,” He spares her a tormented glance. His cheeks feel wet; he didn’t even know he was crying. “I can’t hurt you, so let me--”

He attempts to throw another punch, but she holds him back.

Both of them struggled with one another, until he nudges her away and faces her, “You hate me!” He cries.

She shakes her head in denial, but he doesn’t believe you so repeats himself.

“You hate me.”

“I never said that.” She squeaked, staring into his eyes.

“You wanted to break up.” Jaehyun grabs a fistful of his hair, shutting his eyes as tightly as he can. The voices in his head chanted his words back at him.

“I never said that, either.” He hears her whisper.

He feels you touch his face and he flinches away it at first, snapping his eyes wide open like an injured beast being cornered, but the way she looked at him made him drop his defenses.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, sobbing like a little boy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He repeats his apology over and over until he feels her pull him down, letting his head rest on the crook of her neck. “I can’t lose you, [Y/N]. I can’t. I just wanted to protect you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me and you won’t.” She runs one of her hands down his back while the other combed through his hair.

He pulls away, tears still flowing down his cheeks, “You’re not leaving me?”

She searches for something in his eyes, before slowly cocking her head and offering him an unsure smile as he lightheartedly points out: “I mean, I have to go home sooner or later. But I can spend the night if you want to.”

“I want you to.” He mumbles and she smiles up at him.

“Then I’ll stay the night.” She pulls him down until his forehead was touching hers. Playing with the short hairs on his nape, she whispers onto his lips, “I love you.”

He’s unsure if he should believe her, but casts his doubt away. He smiles back at her, “I love you, too.”

“Let’s get your hand cleaned up and wrapped, okay?” She kisses his cheek and leads him out the room, careful not to step on any glass shards.

As she knelt in front of him, trying not to vomit at the sight of his broken and bloody hand while fishing out the little shards of glass with a pair of tweezers, Jaehyun’s finally coming into terms the gravity of his condition.

Maybe she truly was unsafe with him; but why didn’t she run away when he had given her the chance to? He had given her a glimpse of the monster inside him, yet instead of fleeing, she stays to tame and satiate him. An immense of wave of love overcomes him; there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that he wants her and only her for the rest of his life.

Jaehyun jerks his hand back when she attempts to remove some chunks of glass shards embedded too deep onto his knuckles with tweezers. “Ow!”

“You were literally punching the mirror 30 minutes ago! Give me your hand!” She hisses, pulling his hand back and resting it on top of the blood-stained towel on his lap.

He winced every now and then, biting his tongue when it had hurt a tad too much for him to handle.

“I think I got them all out.” She says after a while, inspecting it under the torchlight of her phone, “Uh, yeah, okay. Go wash it with warm water and come back here.”

Jaehyun quietly obeys, standing up from his seat and taking the bowl of glass shards with him.

After doing what he’s been told, he disposes of the glass shards and bloody towel. Returning to his seat, he dries his hand with a new towel.

She tends to his wound once more, dabbing it with disinfectant. “Jae, we need to talk about what happened.”

“I know.” He solemnly whispers; he had hoped this could easily blow over without the need to discuss it, but he doubts you would ever forget what had happened. “I’m… not okay.”

She patiently waits for him to continue, showing him she’s confused by his statement; looking up at him briefly before taking a roll of gauze to wrap his hand with.

“I…” He licks his lips, “I’m diagnosed with this mental disorder…”

“And how is your relationship now after you told her about your disorder?”

Jaehyun glances down at his injury; she had rebandaged it again for him today, even though he could have had a professional do it. It was a simple act of love for him. “Like it never happened.”

“Oh, then she understands then? That’s good-”

“But,” Jaehyun sits up, hunching forward and resting his forearms on his thighs to support his weight, his fingers just loosely woven together in front of him. He blankly stares at the small altar his doctor had in his office. He was a very religious man, but he oddly never pushed religion onto him during their sessions. “She seems more… careful.”

“I see.” Dr. Jeon massages his chin, “I would say it’s normal. She’s still processing it; she’ll eventually understand.”

“But when she understands, will she stay?”

His doctor frowns at him, “I can’t answer for Ms. [Y/N], Jaehyun. I personally believe you should just tell her everything; you’re founding your relationship on-”

“Lies?” He finishes for him, “I don’t like that word. Let’s call it… an altered fact. She’ll leave me if she finds out. I can tell her more details about my disorder, but anything more? I just know… she’ll leave me.”

“What makes you think-”

Jaehyun cuts him off with a leer and curt laugh, “I know she will, doctor. Don’t pretend she won’t. You know what I’ve done; how I spent years devoting myself to her like how you are with your God. You know how I felt alone and empty growing up; but then I met her; and I felt something beyond my comprehension. Like how Moses discovered the burning bush on Mount Sinai or how a dove brought back an olive branch to Noah. She had single-handedly completed me and now she’s mine. She said it herself; my goddess claimed herself to be mine. It’s only right and just I protect her in return. Isn’t that what you do? When someone disrespects your God, don’t you defend him?”

Dr. Jeon wearily watches him, but it’s nothing he hasn’t heard or seen before. Maybe that’s why he’s tempted to press one of the many panic buttons hidden around the room as discreet as he can. He knows he’ll regret it if he does it again - the Jungs can be quite unforgiving when they’re falsely accused of becoming a threat. It was paranoia and panic that pushed the button last time that brought in heavy set personnel to escort Jaehyun out with a nurse armed with a tranquilizer just in case. Jaehyun’s father was not pleased, almost threatening to terminate their exclusive contract. However, the young man in front of him wasn’t the same person that entered half an hour ago.

“I am going to do everything in my power to keep it that way - to keep her mine - and nothing,” Jaehyun stresses, “Nothing is going to stop me.” 

“And if anybody gets in the way,” he clenches both his fists so tightly that blood starts to emerge from his bandages. Dr. Jeon reaches out to stop him, but Jaehyun separates his hands and stares at his palms, “I’ll kill them with my bare hands.”

a/n: yes the Jung’s therapist is SVT Wonwoo’s brother lol also i purposefully left out Jaehyun’s actual disorder out so I can discuss it in later chapters of Devoted 2 (during that joint therapy session) I’m sorry if it got a little too dark, but I promise the plot is better like this.

I hope you guys liked this! uwu

[darkwritingsnshit]

Living the Dream

Chapter 4

Warnings: This is a dark fic, please don’t read if you’re under 18, or ucomfortable with noncon, kidnapping or dark characters

This was not your bed. These were not your blankets. From memory foam and down, to something harder, scratchy, thin and uncomfortable. The sun was not shining in through your window, in fact, there was no light at all, no window. What the fuck was going on? In an attempt to sit up, leather cut into your wrists and ankles, making your cloudy head bounce back onto the bed. A headache thrummed through your temples as your eyes adjusted to the dark.

“Good morning doll, how’d you sleep?” Steve’s voice came from a corner, he emerged with two cups of coffee and sat down next to where you were strung up on the bed.

“What the fuck is this?” You spit at him, tugging at each arm and leg. Steve frowned and rubbed your restrained leg by the ankle, a seemingly soothing gesture.

“I know, I don’t like this either. It seems silly, but it’s just a precaution. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, you know? I’m concerned for you.” Steve moved his hand to stoke your face; you snapped your head away from his touch. He frowned. “Look,” he sounded tired, “don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be, okay? I’m doing this to make you happy, to make us happy. You need to appreciate what I’ve done for us.” Again, he stroked your cheek, and this time you couldn’t move away any further.

“What the hell are you talking about you psycho?” Between clenched teeth you sounded feral.

“First of all, I don’t appreciate any of that language. I’m going to let you get adjusted today, but all decisions have consequences, so you need to keep that in mind. I did this for us, don’t you see? This is what you wanted. A loving husband, a nice house, a bundle of kids someday, and you get to stay home and care for the home, raise our kids. We even have that white picket fence I know you’ve been secretly dreaming about.” He laid it out like it was t e most logical thing in the world. Like he hadn’t tied you to a bed and stuck you in a windowless room. Like it all made sense.

“Steve.” You used even breaths, even speech. He had to see what was wrong with this picture. “We aren’t married, we never even dated, you just knew me as an acquaintance. We don’t have kids, and this isn’t my house. Do you see why I’m confused?” You were trying so hard not to get upset, not to escalate the situation.

“Well, not yet,” Steve said with a half smile, “but those things will come quickly, you don’t have to worry.”

“No, I am going to worry.” You assured him. “Steve, I want you to let me go, I want to go home. I’m not interested in staying here, okay?” Maybe he could be reasoned with. This was Captain America, Mr. Red-White-and-Blue, not some psychopath. He was a reasonable, stand up guy who defended the rights and liberties of the downtrodden, right? You didn’t understand any of this.

“Not yet you don’t, but you will.” Steve stood up, placed a coffee on the table next to your bed, and unclipped one of your arms, and both of your legs before walking out the door.  

“WHAT the FUCK??” You threw your entire body weight against the last restraint, trying to bend the metal of the frame, trying to break the thick leather, anything to get you out of that fucking cuff, what the hell was going on? “What the HELL Steve? What are you doing?” The two walls you could touch were concrete, and the door Steve exited through looked to be concrete as well, except for the heavy metal bars in front of some safety glass and a nasty looking handle. “My brother will be back, my work will miss me, STEVEN!!!” your voice came out as a shriek, you were slipping into hysterics.

You weren’t sure how long you waited in that godforsaken room. Long enough to take inventory, long enough to ponder your predicament. Your lungs and throat were sore from screaming, your hands were bloody from all the attempts to free your left arm from where the restraints were attached, there were bruises up and down your legs from kicking and pitching fits. It had been long enough for you to realize the reality that you were not going to get out of that room, not until you got your other arm free, not until you were let go by the man who trapped you here.

It was cold in the concrete room, you had torn the blanket and sheets off the bed hours ago and had no inclination to use them. You were hungry and thirsty but sick to your stomach all at once. The nerves had never abated, you seemed to get more anxious with each passing minute, an ongoing panic attack that gripped your lungs and made you draw shaky breaths. You had given up the fight for now, sitting against the corner on the bed, counting as you breathed in and out, trying to calm yourself. The room itself was as long as the full twin bed, but looked a little wider. There was a curtain that had been pulled back, so you could see a showerhead, a sink and a toilet against the other wall, with a drain on the floor. There was the metal table next to the bed chained to the wall, three cameras, one in each corner except the bathroom, and other than a few anchoring spots in the walls and floor, the room was bare. You had thrown the coffee against the wall, determined not to take a damn thing he gave you.

Steve had to have lost it. That’s the only explanation you could come to. What the fuck else could this be, some sick joke? No, this wasn’t funny. Besides, too much time had passed for someone to leap out of the shadows with a ‘surprise! We fooled you!’ and this was too fucked up even for your brother to make a joke out of. Steve must have snapped. You thought about what you knew from his past, your work as a therapist, and decided it was entirely likely. From constantly being ready for a fight, to losing the people he loved, to ongoing PTSD, you knew people who had had a mental break from this kind of thing, though you had never seen a case this extreme.

Your mind was still working as you sat with your knees hugged to your chest against the wall. You didn’t hear the click, you heard the scrape, concrete on concrete, a heavy door pushed open, then shut by a concerned looking blonde. Steve approached your bed, but stayed out of arm’s reach.

“Sweetheart, this is what I was afraid of. You’ve hurt yourself pretty bad, look at you.” He gestured to your body and you realized he was right. You were streaked with blood and bruises, your eyes were red and you were pretty sure you had broken your hand by punching the wall so hard.

“I’m going to help you now, I don’t want you to try to hurt me. You know it won’t work anyway.” Steve’s words did nothing as you tried to claw his goddamn eyes out as he approached. Kicking, screaming, you were sure you looked like a wild animal. A caged animal. Steve looked unhappy, a frown on his face as he easily held you down and reattached your arm and leg restraints. “The first couple days will be the hardest, but I’m going to teach you to behave. I hate this disobedience from you, trust me when I say my patience won’t last forever.” You couldn’t stop snarling and thrashing.

Steve opened the first aid kit he bad brought down with him, and set to work cleaning your self inflicted wounds. He cleaned blood from under your nails and feet, wrapped up your wrist, carefully wiped down the bruises. You had gone from screaming and thrashing to shaking while tears ran down the sides of your face. He was shushing you the entire time, and his hands were gentle with your body.

“See, there we go. I really don’t like it when you hurt yourself, that’s why you’re restrained. It breaks my heart to see you like this, it really does. But if you want out of here we’re really going to have to work on your behavior, okay?” He was stroking your hair, gazing at your face, trying to make eye contact that you wouldn’t give him.

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice was broken and scratchy, you hated it.

“I told you, doll. I’m doing this to make you happy, to make us happy. This is what you want.” He said again. You refused to believe it. Even a deranged man had to know that this was unacceptable.

“Steve, taking someone against their will and tying them to a bed is not in anyone’s best interest, and it won’t make me happy.” You had tried so hard not to sob through those words, but you didn’t make it.

“Shhh baby, it’s okay. I know it may take you a while to adjust, but you’ll see very soon that this really is what you want.” His hands never left your skin and you hated it, you wished your skin was on fire so that his hands would get burned.

“NO IT’S NOT! I don’t want you! I don’t want anything to do with you!! I want to go home!!” There was nothing you could do to stop crying now. You turned your head to the side and tried not to let him see how much this hurt.

“You need to get some rest sweetie, you don’t realize what you’re saying. I’ll be back and we can talk when you’re less hysterical.” Steve stood again, placed a sealed water bottle by your bed and left you tied up and in tears.

[sp3ncer-jean]

&&guests may mistake me as (danielle campbell), but really i am (spencer jean + cis female + she/her) and my DOB is (03/15/1997). i am applying for the (event coordinator) position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite (209). i should be hired because i am (empathetic, honest & selfless), but i can also be (pessimistic, fearful & indecisive) at times. personally, i like to (blog & drink wine) when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work.

tw; rape, abusive relationship.

Born on the West-side of the city.

The youngest of 4 kids. 

Her whole family didn’t have much growing up. Both parents worked weird jobs to get them all through financially.

She was really close to her older cousin, Dan from a very young age. He would take her out often and they got very close. 

Most of the family didn’t think much of it until Spencer turned six, and even then it was just weird glances occasionally from family members. 

Spencer herself felt like Dan hung the moon in the sky. He was always kind to her and never made her feel stupid. Plus he was older and gave her so much of his time so it always made her feel special.

It was not longer after her eighth birthday that Dan pulled her to the side and said he wanted to play a new game. She was hesitant at first to give him what he explained as “special touches” but he insisted that it would make him very happy, and she always wanted him to be happy.

This “game” went on until she was eleven. She explained it to her father who was horrified after he realized what this game was. He confronted Dan, who was now eighteen, and he denied it. 

Not longer after, Spencer’s three brothers paid him a visit. He was found in an alley all alone the next morning, completely naked and unconscious. 

Spencer felt like a husk after she no longer had any contact with Dan. So much so that she began to lash out and she wasn’t the bright and happy child that she had been. 

Her mother and father started looking into programs for her but quickly realized that they couldn’t afford any of them. After much conversation and tears, they decided to pack her up and send her to her mother’s widowed sister, Maggie.

Maggie was always very eclectic and outspoken and she’d been lonely since her husband died before they could have any children together. She was so excited to have Spencer come stay with her that she gave her her own completely furnished room with a computer and TV. 

Spencer was very hesitant to leave her parents and brothers. She knew that their home wasn’t much, but it was home. Maggie lived on the rich side of town and she wasn’t completely sure if she’d be able to fit in over there. Her mother and father both explained to her that she could come visit whenever she wanted and her brothers would come by as often as they could. 

After reassurance from her parents, Spencer packed up the very few belongings she actually cared about and moved in with Maggie. 

The first few weeks were a whirlwind of shopping trips. Maggie worked from home for a high profile company and her husband had left her a rather large fortune. And Maggie already adored Spencer and spared no expense for her niece. New clothes, games, furniture for her room. Spencer wasn’t exactly comfortable with all the money she knew was being spent, but she already felt as if she could trust Maggie more than anyone else she’d ever met. 

Maggie got Spencer into therapy not long after she moved in. Her therapist explained as gently as she could to Spencer what had happened to her. No one up until that point had explained to Spencer that what Dan had done was wrong, because they didn’t really know how. Maggie had to take her home in tears after that specific therapy session. 

Spencer’s therapist suggested different activities to help her cope. She began painting, writing, playing various instruments as well as throwing herself headfirst into her academics all while adjusting to her new life with Maggie. 

Under Maggie’s guidance, Spencer breezed through middle school. She made a small group of friends and socialized fairly often in and out of school. By eighth grade, she was in all honors classes and even there she was requesting harder and more complex assignments. 

Spencer visited often with her family and grew extremely close to her brothers. Her father often still blamed himself for her relationship with Dan but her mother often scolded him for this as lovingly as she could. As they watched their daughter flourish with Maggie, they both knew that they had made the right choice for her, even if sometimes it didn’t feel that way. 

Her freshman year of high school, Maggie requested the school test her for her grade level versus just putting her into freshman classes. Maggie knew that Spencer had much more in her mind than she often led on, and insisted that she be tested. To Spencer’s shock, she tested out of both freshman and sophomore year. According to all of her test scores, she was at a junior year level. She was signed up for junior year classes and started her first year of high school. 

Spencer was terrified of the potential bullying this situation would be her into, but much to her surprise, she made many friends with her upperclassmen peers. They often came to her for advice and homework help. 

She graduated Valedictorian at the age of sixteen. She had colleges seeking her out before the end of her junior year but she didn’t want to leave Maggie. Over the five years she had spent with Maggie, they had grown very very close. Spencer adored Maggie and the little routine that they had just naturally fallen into. 

Spencer took courses to become an event planner/coordinator. It was something she’d always enjoyed helping with as a kid and teenager so she figured why not. Plus living in the Chicago area, she knew there would never be a shortage of people needing an event coordinator. She was able to get all of the certifications she needed in a little less than a year. At seventeen, she began going to the University of Chicago. She majored in Psychology and minored in Visual Arts. 

College for Spencer was amazing. She started dating not long after she started attending University because in high school she felt like it just wasn’t the right time after all of her trauma and hung out with the potheads on campus.

She met a guy named Tanner on her first day of classes. He was her ideal man, or at least what she thought it was. He held doors open for her, brought her flowers, and held her hand around his friends. But not long after they started getting physically involved, he started to feel like he had some entitlement to her. He started to convince her she didn’t need to spend time with her family and more importantly, Maggie. He started keeping her at his apartment as often as he could. And quickly, it turned physically abusive. He started to convince her she wasn’t worth any of the time anyone else but him was giving her. 

Spencer was finally able to sneak away and see Maggie for a weekend. She was telling Maggie what had been happening and she watched her get angrier than she had ever seen her, even after telling her everything that had happened with Dan when she was a kid. Maggie drove her back to Tanner’s apartment and helped her collect her things, as well as reporting him to the campus. 

Tanner did attempt to contact her after he was expelled from the University but Maggie was quick to help her get a restraining order just in case. 

Spencer graduated with her degree at the age of twenty-one and on the dean’s list. Her whole family showed up for her graduation and she was given a bouquet by each of her brothers.

Her parents offered for her to move back in with them, but she politely declined. She wanted to stay with Maggie and help her with whatever she could. 

Maggie would bring Spencer to the Malnati when she had bad weeks at school for a small get away, so when she found out they were hiring, she jumped on the opportunity as quickly as she could. 

[doubledoublezero]

So this has become my new place to vent since no one really uses this app anymore and I can’t afford a therapist lol.

Today I realized my ex has finally gotten around to blocking me on facebook, the last form of social media we were connected through. I’ve unfollowed him for a while and mute his posts, but it just feels different knowing that now there is literally nothing holding any sort of bond at all between us anymore.  I also know that I shouldn’t care and if anything, I should’ve been the one to block him after spending 3 years using me for sexual exploitation. But even then and even now, I’ll always see the good in him. He is a good person, just in a wrong situation. I guess it just feels weird knowing that it’s actually completely over and there is no going back at all. I think the thing that I miss most is having a best friend I can always depend on and talk to. Someone I can just go randomly get fast food with at 1am no questions asked. But that’s gone now and it’s been gone for some time now. It’s just an adjustment to really close this story of us for good.

Meanwhile, a few days ago at a halloween party, I finally told my crush for over a year that I had feelings for him. I knew it wasn’t mutual. I mean, we originally started as friends, then hooked up a few times and I always hoped for something more, but we were never consistent. Then on one of his many trips, he caught feelings for someone else. He never told me and our friendship dynamic changed quite a bit afterwards, but I eventually caught on that there was someone else involved. I just wished I had confirmation that first time I was going to tell him how I felt about him. I ended up deciding against it and kissed him goodnight instead. Then we went weeks without seeing each other. And they ended up not being consistent either. They’re currently on pause or over or something and I finally got the courage to just say it so it was out in the open. I knew he didn’t feel the same and I was willing to accept that. What else could I do? We agreed to remain friends and not let my feelings get involved. As a result, we haven’t spoken in about a week. This isn’t anything unusual really, we typically go spurts without talking. But I think this time is different.

I’ve learned when it comes to feelings fo another person, trusting my gut is always the right choice. When I first met my ex, I always has a feeling it was just for sex, but I let it slide because I was falling for him. I always knew the truth. With my crush, I knew he didn’t feel the same way for me. Last year when me and another friend were seeing where things go, I knew there was something off and I knew the distance we were wouldn’t help with that at all. And with my first boyfriend, I knew we were going to break up eventually. It was only a matter of when. I’m never surprised when things don’t work out. I already know the end result because my gut has super natural foresight. It’s just for once I’ve wanted to be proven wrong...I wanted one of these guys to prove me wrong and be there for me in the end...my gut is always right.

And it’s not that I’m upset or mad at my ex for wanting to not see me on any social media or hurt that my friend doesn’t have feelings for me in return, it’s just knowing that there isn’t that one friend who I can depend on, turn to, or be close to enough to really rely on. I’ve always been the one to do the most for them, never the same in return. I just always wanted that one friend that I could potentially have as a partner.

When it comes down to this and as I am typing this all up in my studio apartment alone, I’ve come to realize that maybe this is just it. I’m not looking for any words of affirmation or for any sympathy. I just think that maybe I’ve loved all I could and that there’s just nothing left. Maybe I’m not meant to be with anyone because there is no one out there meant for me.

Ever since I could remember, the one thing I’ve always wanted in life was to love and be loved in return. I always wanted to have a best friend I could do everything with, talk to about anything, and share all my life experiences with. I wanted to grow old, raise a family, and enjoy life as a father and a partner. I’ve accomplished so much in my life that I wanted to but that has always been the thing I wanted the most out of everything. But as I’m getting older, as I go out and meet new people, I just don’t see that anymore with anyone. I typically don’t develop deep feelings for people. I usually meet someone, build chemistry, see how we connect, and if things go great even give the ol’ se thing a try. But 9 times out of 10 I don’t feel anything more than friendship for that person. Some of them just really genuinely nice guys who deserve someone who makes them endlessly happy...but for some reason it’s just not enough for me. I feel nothing romantically for them. And as someone who discovered their demisexuality, sexual feelings fade away as well.

I’ve used sex in the past as just a coping mechanism. It was how I dealt with extreme loneliness, sadness, heartbreak, and just to fulfill my need for intimacy. For me, sex has never been about sex. Just having another person you connect with in some way shape or form sharing an intimate moment with you is all I’ve ever craved. It wasn’t the healthiest vice in the past, or safest. Especially because I wasn’t aware of why I was even doing it or why I was so empty and depressed during and even more so after. Now that I am more of aware of my sexuality (or lack there of) and where my head and my heart lie, I’m more susceptible to just enjoying time alone. I love being alone honestly, its just when I feel lonely, things become too much for me to bare.

The honest truth is I don’t think I am capable of falling in love again. I’ve loved a a handful of times and have only been IN love three times. I just don’t have those feelings anymore and I don’t connect with people deep enough to have those feelings surface. And to be completely candid, I don’t think I’m right for anyone either. I’m not implying that I’m not good enough or a terrible potential partner, but I don’t think my chemistry is compatible with a lot of other people’s out there. Let me explain even more: People typically are drawn to like minded or familiar presences in their life. Similar interests or hobbies or dreams, etc. and personalities. Or sometimes people are drawn to the complete opposite from them because its so vastly different and they feel some sort of completion. A significant other is supposed to be an extension of yourself in some way. With my personality, it’s a mix of a bunch of things and contradictions. I’m highly social, but introverted. I love talking and entertaining, but I love just listening in silence. I love romance and Love, but I usually love stories where the heroes don’t end up together. I’m already and have already been my own extension. I’ve been my own completion. I’m my own significant other. Those few people that I have met that really made me feel something deep in my heart were the rarest of exceptions. Pretty much the DLC packages to my love life. Those feelings are so few and far between, however. I don’t think it’s impossible, but for me to really develop serious feelings for someone is really rare.

It just suck when I’m with my self and feel the loneliness. Missing the touch of another person. Being able to call and just talk for hours with someone about nothing at all or everything in the universe. Getting Wendy’s at 1am because it’s a Tuesday. But I can’t force feelings on to someone or on myself to feel anything for anyone. It has to happen naturally. It has to be real.

Anyway, I’m loved by so many people. I have such amazing and incredible friends, my life is...eh, it’s getting somewhere lol, and I really am thankful for everything I have in it so far. I might not be in love, but I still have so much of it in my life. And for all those I have loved, I just want to thank them and hope that they are all continuing to be happy and getting the best out of life. 

*I Wrote this to vent as my own therapy. As much as I appreciate the kind words that come with this, please don’t be worried about me. I’m doing fine*

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 5

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] 

read on [ffnet] / [ao3]

---

Danny looked up to see all eyes on him. Oh, right. He was in family therapy. Or, kind of family therapy. Jazz wasn’t here. Apparently Danny would be too overwhelmed if there were more than two of his family members in the same room with him in the hospital, so Jazz was left to fend for herself in the wilderness that was Casper High. Danny didn’t really care either way. After all, Jazz would just cry and try to pick apart his feelings in front of his parents, which was something he wanted to avoid, thank you very much. It was bad enough she had to do it at all. Danny wasn’t opposed to saving himself from that potential disaster.

“What?” Danny said.

“How are you feeling about being transferred to outpatient next week, Danny?” his therapist asked, tapping her slender fingers against the sleeves of her emerald shirt.

“Fine.”

She nodded as though he just poured his heart out to the audience. “Thank you. And you, Jack? How do you feel about Danny coming home next week?”

Jack looked down at his lap. When he spoke, his tone was soft. “I’m happy that he’s finally going to be coming home. But…”

“But?” the therapist prompted.

“But I’m worried. Obviously.”

“Why are you worried?”

A wry smile appeared on his lips. “I just love my family too much. When they’re hurting, I worry for them. It’s my natural response as a parent.”

“What about for Danny specifically? What about him moving home worries you?”

Jack’s smile fell, and he was silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving the blue carpet below him. “I’m worried because...I don’t want to do anything that will cause Danno to panic. I don’t want to hurt him. And I feel...I know I’m not the most observant guy around, but this is a whole new territory. And I’m not just talking about the...I mean, it’s just everything . There’s so much I don’t know. I want to know, and I understand why I don’t, but I love you too much, kiddo. I don’t want to hurt you. You mean the world to me.”

Beside him, Maddie started sniffling. Jack wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder like he did every family therapy session. He grabbed a tissue box and handed it to her.

“And Danny? Would you like to say anything as a response?” the therapist asked.

No. What he wanted to do was go take a nap.

“Uh…” Danny licked his lips. Keep it short. Practice it in your head before you say it. You can do it, just say the sentence. “I...I’m sorry if you—uh, you feel um...I’m okay. I’m fine. I—I’ll be okay.”

Goddamnit. Shit. Shit. He couldn’t even get through the sentence. He refused to make eye contact with his family, not wanting to see the anxiety-ridden expressions of his parents because he was supposed to be getting better in inpatient but he still couldn’t get through a simple “I’m fine” without stumbling around like a drunken barhopper.

“Danno, you don’t have to be strong for us. We’re your parents.”

“I’m fine, though.”

The therapist lowered her clipboard. “It’s okay, Danny. This is a safe area.”

This was so dumb. Why was he here again? He could be asleep. “Okay?”

“You seem unsure. Why is that?”

“No, no!” Danny held up his hands. His plan to fly under the radar was imploding by the second. “I—uh, I know. It’s just...It’s just I’m fine. You know? It’s—okay, uh, yeah…”

“Okay, Danny.” The therapist shifted her gaze. “Maddie? Would you like to communicate with us how you feel about Danny coming home next week?”

“Um.” Maddie sniffed, dotting her red-rimmed eyes with a tissue. “I’m very relieved. It’s been so long since Danny’s been home. So, so long. I just...I feel like my life’s been put on hold and I’m so relieved that he’s finally coming home. I’ve missed him so much.”

Danny squirmed in his seat, diverting his eyes away from his mom.

“But I’m also so worried. He’s only been here a few weeks and—oh, Danny, I’m so sorry—but I’m concerned he’s not ready to come home. He...you…”

“What’s that?” the therapist prompted.

Maddie crumpled the tissue in her fingers. “It’s about Danny’s incident yesterday. The one in class? It just makes me so worried about him going back to Casper High because...well…”

Nope. No. He was not getting into this right now.

Trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, Danny grounded out, “I know.”

The therapist quirked her brow at Danny. “Yeah? What’s going on, Danny?”

“Nothing.” Danny tightened his fists. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing, sweetie. You got very ill during class yesterday, which was very similar to when you got ill at Casper high. And honestly, it makes me very nervous about you coming home so soon,” Maddie said.

Danny felt his cheeks heat up. He crossed his arms and slumped down in his chair, looking anywhere but at the people in the room. He almost wanted to open his mouth and tell everyone off for forcing him to be here because he really didn’t want to deal with this right now and please for just one day couldn’t he not deal with his emotions? Just keep them trapped behind a locked door and incinerate the key?

Maddie seemed to take his silence as permission to continue. “It was my fault. I pushed him to go back to school too soon. I didn’t want to admit that...that anything like this happened to him. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. I...I didn’t even stop to think about if Danny was going to be able t-to handle it all. It was—I was so selfish. I’m sorry.”

Maddie’s voice broke. She blew her nose, the sound echoing around the otherwise silent room.

“It wasn’t your fault, Mads. We all met with Lancer and the principal. We all agreed to have him attend school again when he came home from the hospital,” Jack said, rubbing Maddie’s shoulder.

The therapist pursed her lips. “Sometimes our brains refuse to fully accept certain situations because that makes them real to us. It doesn’t make you selfish or mean you’re a bad parent. It’s just our brain’s way of coping with a bad situation.”

“My brain’s coping caused Danny to get hurt,” Maddie said.

“Hmm, but it also led to him getting the help he needed, didn’t it? The anxiety attack yesterday in school wasn’t great, but compared to a few weeks ago, Danny was able to bounce back from it very quickly. He was a bit fatigued directly after, but by the afternoon, he was participating in group therapy sessions with the other teens like normal,” the therapist explained, gazing at Maddie with warm eyes.

“Still…” Maddie’s voice trailed off, the unspoken it’s my fault resonating around the room.

The therapist offered a smile. “Sometimes our decisions may have poor outcomes in the moment but in the long run may lead to the most success. And yes, the past few weeks have been extremely hard for the both of you as parents. No one wants to see their kid hurting. But Danny’s here , with a team of people who are here to support him and both of you. He’s safe and supported, and so now it’s time for you to allow yourself to accept what happened without beating yourself up over it. What happened at school was not your fault, Maddie. It was simply the result of a bad situation.”

Of course it wasn’t her fault. Danny knew this. Why couldn’t his mom?

If Danny hadn’t been so weak, he wouldn’t have had issues in school.

He wouldn’t have had to come here.

He could be home. In bed. Asleep. Not talking to anyone. With the lights out and curtains drawn.

But right now, that sounded too good to be true. And Danny knew deep down that those nice moments in life were not for him. He wasn’t allowed peace in his life. And he would never be allowed another peaceful moment ever again. The Guys in White ensured this by gifting him with a lifetime of medical issues and painkiller prescriptions.

Danny shifted, his chest twinging unhappily. A second clonazepam sounded like a dream right now…

Wait, what?

Focus, Danny.

Danny cued himself back in to the conversation. “...but you’re sending Danny back to school after the PHP program, aren’t you?”

Maddie shifted. “Yes, he’ll be going back to school. But not right away. We’ll give him some time to adjust, and when we do send him to school, it’ll be different this time. We know where we went wrong.”

“Can I ask what you’re planning for him?”

There was a slight pause before Maddie responded. “Well, we adjusted Danny’s IEP so he’ll be going to school for only half of the day to start, and he’ll only be studying the core school subjects. The learning specialists in the school’s learning center will be working directly with him, so his class size will be reduced to about five students and two teachers. All of Danny’s teachers are making modified lesson plans to send down to the learning center for him to complete, and they’ve all said they’re willing to come down during a free period and help him if he needs the extra help.”

The therapist nodded. “That sounds good. I think he’ll really benefit from the smaller class sizes. He seems to do well here in smaller group situations, wouldn’t you say, Danny?”

Danny shrugged, keeping his head down. This wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last time that adults talked about Danny right in front of him, like he was inept. And in some ways, he was inept. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Before the Guys in White, if his parents were making him uncomfortable he could jump straight into the conversation and snap at them. He could say something teenagery like, “Stop embarrassing me!” or “Can you lay off me for a second?”

Everything was different now. His brain didn’t react correctly anymore. Thinking took effort, talking took effort, listening took effort. Everything was exhausting. And a lot of the time, he simply didn’t have the energy to engage.

He was too fragile to go to regular school. He was officially a special-ed kid. Which, if he was being truthful, he was surprised he hadn’t been referred to the learning center long ago, when Phantom first started turning school into an anxiety-filled mess. He guessed he always had decent grades before then—courtesy of being the child of two cutting-edge scientist parents with four degrees and a PhD between them—but even then, a part of him was still bitter no one had done anything. Not a single one of his teachers requested he get sent down for testing or asked he receive additional help. The administration slapped the “lazy” label on him and handed out detention after detention, as if that would to teach him not to fail out of school.

Well, a nervous breakdown in the gym locker room and a diagnosis of mild brain damage certainly did the trick.

“There’s some other things too,” Maddie continued. Danny heard another tissue being ripped from the box. “He’ll get time-and-a-half to complete his tests, and he’ll do his test one-on-one with a teacher aide. And when he finally does start reintegrating into the classroom, he’ll be seated in the front of every class.”

“How long do you plan on keeping this education plan active for?” the therapist asked.

Jack spoke up. “At least until winter break. We’re going to reconvene at the end of the fall term and see where Danny’s at. If we think he’s ready to start going to some more classes, then we’ll start that process. And if not, then we’ll keep the half-day schedule only. No rush, right Danno?”

Danny shrugged again.

“This seems like a thorough plan. It’s very good that you two were able to reflect about the deficiencies with the first plan and adjust accordingly. I know this time has been tough, but please don’t forget to celebrate the small victories that have happened, like gathering this IEP in such a short amount of time.” The therapist turned to Danny. “What do you think about all this, Danny? This is your education, and it’s important that you have a say in what you want your high school experience to be.”

Danny unraveled his arms, dropping them to his sides. He pressed a finger into his thigh, as if he hadn’t just checked three hours ago whether or not his paraplegia had miraculously been cured, but he felt nothing.

“Danny?” the therapist prompted, her voice a bit softer.

“Um...it’s fine.”

“Did you have any questions or concerns about your IEP? Anything you wanted to ask?”

“Uh…” Danny played with the hem of his hoodie. It was clear that the therapist wasn’t going to let him off easily. A few weeks ago, they might have let him sit there silently during family therapy hour, but now Danny was stable. He had to participate.

He breathed out and tried again. “Will I be going to homeroom? With Sam and Tucker?”

“Yes,” Maddie answered. “Lancer actually suggested we leave that as is.”

Alarm bells were going off in Danny’s head. “Really? I bet...I bet he just wanted to keep a—an eye on me. In homeroom. Make sure I even...I actually showed up to school.”

“Now don’t say that,” Jack said. His voice was uncharacteristically thoughtful. “I think part of it’s that he wanted to make sure you’re doing okay, but another huge piece that he brought up is he wanted to give you time to see Sam and Tucker since they won’t be in learning center with you. Between school, PT, and outpatient, you’re going to be pretty busy. I think he just wanted to make sure you get a chance to see your friends too. Danno, I know you and Mr. Lancer haven’t always understood each other, but believe me when I say that he’s really rooting for you. He’s been a huge help through all this.”

Danny rolled his eyes and crossed his arms again, not caring about whatever attitude he was showing.

“He’s your teacher advocate for your IEP plan, you know,” Maddie added in.

“I know, Mom.”

The therapist gave no reaction to Danny’s moody display. Danny wondered if, deep down, everyone in the room was almost glad to see this bit of adolescent defiance leaking out of Danny. It had been too long since he was able to show attitude without fear of being hurt. Not that he behaved like the government wanted him to while he was locked up—God no, his defiance there led him to a wheelchair.

But this...this was normal. Well, it was as close to normal as he could get at the moment.

“There’s also the manner of planning out his outpatient schedule. Danny will be attending the a PHP program, correct?” the therapist asked.

Maddie nodded. “Yes, that is correct.”

“Good. I’ll still be seeing him for his individual sessions three times a week starting next week. And he’ll be in the PHP program for about six hours per day, five days per week. Based on our sessions, the PHP program sessions, and how his time at home goes, that number will slowly go down as time goes on.”

“How long will he be going to the PHP program before we can start adjusting the schedule down, would you say?” Maddie asked.

The therapist pressed her thin lips together and shrugged. “It really differs person to person. Everyone’s different, and everyone responds differently to the group therapies in outpatient.”

Danny’s eyes flickered over to Maddie, searching for her reaction. Did she think he wasn’t capable? That he was doomed to never graduate from outpatient? But her face betrayed nothing. She was blank, controlled.

“Is there anything we can do? As parents? I want this transition to be as smooth as possible,” Maddie said.

“The family unit is the most critical part of this process,” the therapist said. She paused, the corners of her lips turning upward. “Maddie, Jack, you both are very capable and empathetic people. As his therapist, I have nothing but good faith in the both of you that Danny will be supported when he returns home on Monday.”

Danny glanced over to his wheelchair next to the door. The object of his failure was suddenly melodic in its call to him to sit down and escape whatever the hell this was. Family therapy was always his least favorite time of the week. And the torture of opening up to his family seemed to get worse each session as his therapist prodded new memories and emotions Danny would rather keep shut.

“But is there anything specifically I can do? Please, I just want to help my son.”

“Just being there for him, as you have been since he started this program, is all we need in order to continue the healing process.”

“Mads,” Jack said, rubbing Maddie’s shoulder. “We got this. We all do. Right, Danny?”

Danny grunted, his eyes fixed on his lap once again. This was awful. This was so awful.

He wouldn’t be in this position if he hadn’t gotten himself revealed on television.

Which wouldn’t have happened if he had just dodged that fucking attack.

Seriously, how hard was it to dodge an ecto-weapon? The noise they made as they let out a blast was enough of a warning that it was time to move.

This was his fault. This was all his fault.

Now his parents had to be in family therapy with him. And they thought this was their fault. When really, no, it was Danny’s fault. But they couldn’t see that, could they? They thought it was their fault. They were blaming themselves and beating themselves up. But it wasn’t their fault. It was his.

Because he didn’t dodge Skulker’s attack—

It was all his fault.

—even though he could hear it coming—

He was lucky the government didn’t kill him.

—why didn’t he just dodge—

It was his fault.

— he let himself be hit—

His fault.

—even if it was a new weapon, he should have seen it coming—

Fuck.

---

“So, you’re leaving then.” A quiet voice cut into Danny’s thoughts. Danny swiveled his head around to see the Hispanic boy, who stood over his chair with slouched shoulders and an unreadable expression.

“Yeah,” Danny said.

“When do your parents get here?”

“Any minute,” Danny answered quietly, glancing at the overhead clock. It was technically three minutes past when they said they’d be arriving, but his parents were known for being either extremely early or extremely late to any function whatsoever. There was no in-between with them.

“They seem nice.” At Danny’s odd look, the boy added, “You know, from what I’ve seen on TV.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He still forgot his family was famous now. Danny hadn’t seen any of their TV appearances yet, but apparently they’d already retracted many of their theories, slamming the world with hard evidence along the way. All to get Danny home.

All for him.

“They’re great,” Danny mused. “Weird, but great.”

“Yeah…”

Danny’s eyes flickered back over to to the boy. His arms were pressed into his stomach, one hand nervously scratching the other. Danny squinted up at the boy his brain slowly figuring out how he should respond. Finally, he blurted out, “What?”

“Huh?”

“You look like...I dunno.” Danny waved a hand at him. “Something’s up.”

“Oh, I just…” The brunette pulled out a chair and sat down next to Danny. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Do you think we’ll be friends after you leave? I mean, you’re leaving now, and I’m leaving next week. Do you think we’ll still talk after I get out?”

Danny averted his gaze. “Sure.”

“Okay. That’s good. I just—I mean, I know you don’t think of yourself like this. But you’re like a celebrity and all. And I’m just some loser from—”

“You’re not a loser.” Danny glared at the table.

“Yeah but I’m not, you know...”

Danny’s glare snapped up at the boy. “You’re not what? A half-ghost?”

“No! I wasn’t going to say that!”

“A science experiment?”

“No, not even!” The teen ran his fingers through his hair, frustration clearly painted on his round face.

“Then what? ”

“You’re just…” The teen shifted, bringing elbows off the table and onto his lap. “You know. You’re so cool. You’ve saved so many people and helped so many people out. You’re like the real life version of DnD, you know? And I get that you’re here and I’m not saying that being you has been easy. Because...it hasn’t. Obviously. But you have the whole world that cares about you. So many people fought for you, and you have so many people back home waiting for you. Your friends and family. All your classmates. And I just...I have no one.”

“Oh,” Danny said, staring up at the boy who refused to look back at him. “What do you mean, no one?”

“You know...I don’t have friends. At my high school. I’m not like you. I’m not part of the cool group or anything. Kids don’t talk to me, and when they do, it’s…” his voice trailed off as his eyes shifted up to the ceiling.

‘Cool .’

Huh.

Danny Fenton had been called a lot of things—loser, freak, nerd—but cool? That was one word he’d never been called before. And Danny Phantom hadn’t heard it in a while either. In fact, Danny couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called him, Fenton or Phantom, cool. At least, he hadn’t heard it since last spring. When Dash and Paulina ruled the halls, talking about how cool Phantom was, blissfully unaware that he was the same loser they just elbowed into a locker. And Danny…

Danny went about his day as usual. Ignorant as to what was to come.

“I’m not cool,” Danny found himself saying. “Before everything came out, I wasn’t...people didn’t like me very much. The other kids at school.”

The teen shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. You don’t get it because you have friends. Not being the most popular in your class isn’t the same as—”

Before Danny could stop himself, all his dirty secrets were spilling from his mouth like a waterfall. “Dash—the quarterback—he locked me...locked me in those tall thin lockers. And he and his friends would lean against the door so I-I couldn’t get out. They’d laugh. And then they’d...they’d let me out. Which was almost worse. Because...because it was me versus...all of them.”

“Oh,” the teen said, his eyes as wide as saucers. And for a moment, Danny almost felt embarrassed that after the teen had come to him with his own insecurities about school, Danny had responded selfishly.

But he didn’t feel embarrassed. He didn’t feel bad about stealing the spotlight once again for his own problems, because goddamnit this was one of the only boys who gave Danny any semblance of friendship at inpatient, and Danny didn’t want to keep up the “perfect ghost hero” façade with him any longer. If the public wanted to think his human form was an innocent angel? Fine. So be it. But this teen? Who pushed his wheelchair down the hallway when Danny’s chest had a fit? Who sat with Danny during mealtimes and didn’t say a word at the various heavy drugs he was given each morning and evening? Who colored with Danny and kept the conversation alive despite his stuttering mess?

No, this boy deserved better. He deserved the truth.

Danny exhaled. “Yeah. But they didn’t...something changed. When I went to school now. They didn’t...they didn’t...I guess it was the wheelchair…”

“Maybe they felt guilty.”

“Maybe…”

“Mine won’t be so nice when I get back to school.” The teen twisted the sleeves of his hoodie. “Oh god, and if they ever found out where I’ve been...that would be the end of me.”

“Tonsil surgery, remember?”

The boy gave a weak smile. “Yeah. Just don’t rat on me when we get out, okay?”

“Sure.”

It’s not like he could rat the boy out even if he wanted to. Danny had no idea what his name was, and at this point, it would be too embarrassing to ask.

As if he could read Danny’s mind, the teen reached over the table and grabbed a loose piece of paper and a marker from the art bucket. He scribbled something down on the paper and all but shoved it onto Danny’s lap. ‘Miguel Cantos 817-431-XXXX’

Danny must have looked lost because the boy’s expression immediately turned sheepish as he ducked his head down and muttered, “My cell. In case you wanna stay in touch after we get out.”

Miguel Cantos. Danny repeated the name in his head. His eyes flickered back up to the small boy sitting in front of him, who was currently curling in on himself. The teen—Miguel—ran a hand through his short hair, his round cheeks turning red at Danny’s continuous staring.

“Thanks,” Danny said, glancing back down at the paper. Miguel Cantos. He couldn’t forget that name.

“Can I ask you something?” the—Miguel said.

“Sure.”

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to. But I was just curious.”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay.” Miguel nodded, hesitating. His fingers fidgeted until they landed on the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. Tan fingers pulled and stretched the material, twisting it till the cloth hid his thumb from view. “Are you the only one? Or are there more people like you?”

“Oh, uh…” Danny leaned back in his chair.

Shit.

Well, there went any semblance of not lying to this kid.

Technically, minus Vlad, he was the only person like this. And even then, Vlad was ever so slightly different from Danny. Not to mention he was a total creep who had completely given in to his sick obsession with Maddie and seemed to think that killing Jack and kidnapping Danny on multiple occasions was the only way to win both Maddie and Danny’s affections as his pseudo son or whatever twisted thoughts that plagued his head.

But even then, even after everything Vlad had done, he still couldn’t rat him out as being a halfa. Maybe it was his obsession talking, maybe it was the constant need to have this one-up on Vlad, but at the end of it all, being a halfa was something too personal, too private. Vlad and Danny alike had taken their secret and guarded it within an inch of their lives again and again. Danny was the one unlucky enough to have been outed on national television, not Vlad. He fucked up, and he suffered the consequences tenfold.

Danny wouldn’t wish what happened to him on anyone, not even Vlad.

“Yeah, I’m the only halfa.”

“Oh, wow. Do you and your family know why?”

“They have their theories,” Danny said, choosing his words carefully. Most of his parents research was confidential, and he and his parents hadn’t really been able to sit down and talk about all the ghost-stuff yet.

There was also the matter of Danny not exactly being too keen on having his physiology on display to the public like he was a rare zoo animal. Nope, no thank you.

“They don’t know for certain...why I survived the accident…it—it’s speculation.”

“Oh. That’s cool then,” Miguel said.

“Danny,” a gentle voice came from behind him.

Danny swiveled around to see one of the nursing assistants approaching the pair, a warm smile on her face. “Your parents are here.”

“Thanks,” Danny said. He turned back to Miguel. “Well…”

Miguel offered him a grin.

It looked forced.

“This is it. You’re off,” he said.

“Yeah.” Danny exhaled, trying to dissipate the knots of anxiety that decided to spring into existence. “Yeah. This is it.”

“I’ll come with you to get your bag,” the nursing assistant said. She stepped to the side, raising her arm in the universal “after you” motion.

“Okay.” Danny’s voice sounded distant to his own ears.

“Hey.” Miguel slowly lifted his hand, curling it into a loose fist. His face relaxed, and a real grin replaced the fake one from before. “It’s been good getting to know you, Danny. I never expected to meet you, and I never thought you would ever give me the time of day if we did happen to cross paths. You’re awesome, dude. Keep in touch.”

Danny raised his own fist in kind, lightly tapping the tan skin with his pale knuckles. He felt the corners of his lips twitch up involuntarily. This time, the assurance along with a “you too” didn’t seem so forced either.

He dropped his arms to his side, undid the breaks on his wheelchair, and pivoted away from Miguel. A final goodbye brushed against Danny’s eardrums, but he didn’t offer one in response. The uncertainty of whether he would ever talk to Miguel again had begun collecting in the corner of his mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to the brunette again, it was just…

What if them staying in contact compromised Miguel’s anonymity as a suicide patient? What if the other kids in his school found out? Everyone must have known where Danny ended up. This hospital was the only one around that offered an adolescent program. It wouldn’t be too hard to connect the dots between Danny’s public meltdown and subsequent hospitalization and Miguel’s “tonsil surgery” absence.

It was just too risky. He couldn’t risk outing Miguel like that. Not after how nice the boy had been to him since he arrived.

That was it, right? That’s why he felt so conflicted about this?

“Alright, let’s do this,” the nursing assistant said, dragging Danny from his anxiety-filled brain.

He paused, tilting his head up to be met with the plain door to his dorm room. The nursing assistant gently pushed the door back to reveal a spotless white and blue accented bedroom. His bed was made, sheets pulled up under the pillows like his mother had taught him all those years ago. Decorating his bed was his duffle bag, which was packed and zipped up.

He put his hands on the metal rims of his wheels and readied himself to push forward toward the duffle bag. But, before he could move, the nursing assistant had already made her way across the room.

“Don’t worry, Danny. I got it,” she said, grabbing the duffle and slinging a black strap across her shoulder. She reached down for the walker. “You just follow me out, okay?”

He relaxed, allowing his eyes to wander around the room one last time. The white walls and ceiling didn’t bother him anymore, not like they did when he first arrived to inpatient. Sure, the dorm room was mostly white, but it seemed much brighter than the white in the government compound. The government’s walls were dim and maddening. Their white pressed down on Danny’s lungs, leering at him with hysteria.

You’ll never escape, the whiteness seemed to say. This is your life now. You deserve it, freak.

The white in the hospital was like gleaming pages on a fresh sheet of computer paper. It was blank, yet eager to be filled with new sketches and splashes of color. The room alluded a hopeful sense of safety that Danny desperately craved.

“Well, you ready?” the nursing assistant asked.

“Yeah,” Danny said. He was ready. Maybe he wasn’t completely fixed yet—and if he was honest, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be—but he was ready to be out of here. He hadn’t seen Sam and Tucker in weeks, and they hadn’t truly hung out since before he was revealed. Sure, they visited him when he was in the main hospital and when he came home for that short stint before being checked into inpatient, but he wasn’t exactly present for those encounters.

He made a mental note to treat Sam and Tucker to the Nasty Burger when he got back. For everything he put them through. Whenever his bank account would allow for it, at least.

Oh yeah, he was definitely ready to be out of here.

He turned to the nursing assistant and offered her a lopsided grin, ““Yeah. No offense, but these—but these beds suck.”

The nursing assistant snorted. “They don’t look too comfortable. I’m just glad I never had to sleep in them.”

“Do yourself a—a favor and...don’t get checked in then. You won’t have to.”

“I’ll try my best.” She undid the clasps on the walker and folded it flat. “Besides, I think I’m a little too old to hang with you kids.”

“Aw, come on. You’re what, twenty?”

She rolled her eyes. “A little older than that. Nice try though. Come on, let’s not keep your parents waiting. We still have to sign you out and everything.”

They exited the boys’ psychiatric unit, the double doors hissing closed for the last time. She led him down an unfamiliar path to the lobby of the building, one Danny couldn’t remember going on when he was admitted the month before. Thinking back, Danny didn’t remember much from the first day he was admitted.

He must have been really out of it.

Seeing his parents for the first time outside of the double doors was awkward, neither party knowing exactly what to say to each other. Maddie kept turning from the front desk to give him small, watery smiles that left him entirely unsure how to reciprocate. After the fifth watery glance in his direction, he made it a point to stare down at the floor, the ceiling, the seams of his hoodie, anywhere but the direction of his parents.

Jack was a different story. He was quiet, focused on getting all the paperwork filled out accurately. This attention to detail was somewhat unnerving for Danny, who was used to him being the distracted parent. But, thinking back over the past few weeks, Jack’s change had been the most apparent out of his parents and sister. The goofy, immature man was much more stoic than before. It was as if Jack had left town and his lawyer twin brother replaced him.

Danny waited silently off to the side until the final papers were signed, signaling the beginning of his freedom. Well, partial freedom. He would be back here tomorrow for outpatient. But from this day forward he could sleep in his own bed, eat his mother’s baked goods, and sit on the roof and look at the constellations with Jazz whenever he wanted.

He was finally free.

The sunlight hitting his face almost didn’t seem real. It wasn’t like the sticky heat he was met with when he was dumped like a UPS package on the Fenton Works doorstep by the Guys in White after his...residency with the government. Which was a suppressed memory that could stay suppressed, Fenturd.

He pressed a hand to his forehead. He hadn’t thought about that memory yet, that moment when the blinding sunlight and summer heat met his body for the first time since he had been taken away.

All he remembered from that day was the sound of the door opening and his eyes immediately snapping shut at the bright light that met his dilated pupils. A rough hand grabbed his arm—the broken one that couldn’t heal thanks to the ecto-suppressants—and yanked him out of the car. His torso hit the sidewalk and he screamed as the fresh wounds on his chest burned in pain. He writhed, desperate to get off his stomach, only for his back to cry out in misery.

And then he woke up in the hospital. Surrounded by fresh linens and medical professionals working to heal him.

The concerned tone of Jack cut into Danny’s thoughts. “Danno? You okay?”

Danny’s eyes snapped back into focus. Shit, he was falling behind his parents. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You need help?” his mother asked.

“No, I’m good. Promise.” Danny gave his mother what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It wasn’t, if his mother’s persistent worried look was anything to go by. He rolled his eyes and put more force than necessary into the next push on his wheelchair, speeding past his parents.

Danny reached the start of the parking lot and glanced around, searching for the Fenton Assault Vehicle. It was never hard to spot, with it standing several feet higher than a normal car and plastered with the neon green Fenton Works logo. But much to Danny’s surprise, he couldn’t spot it anywhere.

“Where’d you park?”

“Right up front,” Maddie said.

“Huh? Oh…” Danny’s eyes latched onto Jazz’s small red car parked in the first handicapped parking spot. He swallowed thickly, his stomach twisting painfully. “Oh.”

“No ghost assault vehicle today,” Jack said from behind Danny. He felt a heavy hand hit his shoulder. “Your mother didn’t think the hospital would like it too much if we showed up with a van full of weapons. So we borrowed Jazz’s car for the day.”

“Oh. When did you…?” Danny nodded towards the handicapped sign in front of the spot.

“Um, a few weeks ago,” Maddie said, her voice tight.

“We know it’s not ideal, but it’s practical. And hey, someday you might not need it if you work hard enough in PT, right?” Jack asked.

“Right.”

“Then for now, this is just the way it is, son.” Jack’s hand squeezed Danny’s shoulder before letting go. “Now, enough chit-chat. Let’s go home.”

“Yeah...home.”

---

HUGE shoutout to imekitty for not only beta-ing this chapter (which was a mess that required multiple days of her working her editing magic) but also for just helping me along the way with this chapter and giving me lots of encouragement and motivation. She's a gem and an amazing writer so if you want some great angsty fics I highly suggest you go read her stuff.

Also big ups to tumblr user dannyphandump for giving one last read through on this chapter and helping with the last-minute detail edits/things to think about for future chapters. They were super helpful!

Thanks for reading, and for everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I can't wait to hear your thoughts and predictions about the next chapter now that he's home!

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