#lost 2 hours of potential work time trying to convince her to stop biting my cords

[khytal]

she’s being a menace tonight

[strawberrywritings]

 A/N: I received an ask asking for a part 2 to this, sooooo here it is, let me know if you want part 3. Enjoy! xx

Part 3 / Masterlist

Warnings: sexual intercourse, it’s long and messy buckle up

Summary: your relationship with Rio takes a turn for the best... or the worst?

The next time you saw Rio was in a club. He was there, enjoying a few drinks in a corner, and you were there with some friends. You spotted him first and excusing yourself from your friends, you made your way over to where he was sitting. “Beth’s not here”, you joked, knowing that sometimes Beth came to the club.

He looked up from his phone to see you standing before him, smirking down at him. “I’m not here for her”, he replied, still not knowing why you would approach him outside of “work”. You leaned against the table he was sitting at and pointed to the dance floor behind you. “In that case, people go to clubs to have a good time, not to sit at a table alone”, you still teased, testing the waters to see what kind of mood he was in. He smirked, “Maybe I’m waiting for someone”, he leaned back in the seat and watched you become embarrassed: you definitely hadn’t thought about that and you were sure that you had sounded stupid. Great. “I’m kidding, have a seat”, he said with a smile and you stood there looking at him before sitting down carefully. “I don’t bite... unless you ask me to”, he added and watched you giggle, back to your usual playful mood. As your giggle quieted down, you looked at him ad softly smiled. “I’m sorry for what I said, we just never see each other in... normal - you made quotation marks with your fingers - contexts, and you don’t really strike me as a very social person, no offense, really”, you leaned your cheek on your hand and watched him. “Don’t worry, it’s fine”, he said and nodded.

You didn’t even realize it, but you two talked for half an hour before one your friends came over and told you they were moving to the dance floor. “Sorry, I should probably head back there, I already bothered you too much”, you laughed, and he shook his head, “It’s alright, I enjoyed it”. His voice was deep and calm, and you almost didn’t want to leave him. “I’ll see you around, Rio. Have a good night”. “You too, mama”. You waved with your hand and started walking back to where your friends were, but Rio noticed how his eyes stayed glued to your body. He had watched you, as you talked, he was watching your lips, your eyes, your hands... he watched the way you talked so lively, your voice always happy, and he found himself thinking about you. And he didn’t like it. He already had his complicated relationship with Beth, he didn’t need another one.

In the next few days, he tried to think less about you, trying to view you only as an employee, but every time he saw Beth, he couldn’t help but think about you, she was your friend, after all. And that was another problem. The attraction Rio had towards you (he tried to convince himself there wasn’t any but he failed) could potentially harm your friendship with Beth, and consequently harm the business, and he cared about his business. Beth was a liability and it was clear, but he couldn’t just push her away all of a sudden: she had grown attached and it was his fault, he let her do that, and her being the “benefits” part of the deal made it twice as complicated to cut the ties with her. He had to understand how to get out of this mess without having a blow black from Beth and hurting the business.

The next time he saw you, he was the one who spotted you first, while you were in the grocery store, doing your weekly shopping. “Hey” he was standing beside you now, always in dark clothes, but with a beanie over his head. “Hi, everything alright?”, you smiled at him and he nodded. “Yeah, I was wondering if you had a minute to talk… but maybe not here”. You looked at him and the last part of his sentence made you understand that it was business-related. “Sure, we can meet at Annie’s later, she’s-”. he stopped you with a smile, “I would prefer going to my house, actually”. You smirked, “It’s all a ploy to get me in your bed, admit it”, you laughed, but told him that you’d be there, nonetheless. “I’m gonna call the girls and tell ‘em”. “I’ll handle it”. And with that, he left. No goodbye, nothing else. Your words were stuck in his head and now all he could think about was you in his bed. He was losing control over himself and he was mad about it. When you ringed the doorbell to his house, after dinner, and he answered the door instead of Mick, you were surprised and confused. “Ditched security, today?”, you smiled and looked around. The house had minimalistic furniture in plain colors, mostly black and white. It felt like him. You were still lost in your thoughts when he spoke, “Yep, it’s just me and you”. Your head snapped towards him, you and him? Where were the girls? “I figured this would be better kept between us”, he spoke as he made his way to the table, “Have a seat, please”. He was taking the chair out for you, always a gentleman, but you were frozen in place in the hall, a thousand scenarios running through your head as to why he wanted to speak to you alone. Did he want to kill you? Had he already killed the girls and he wanted to get rid of you, too? He was still waiting for you when you slowly approached the table. “I come in peace, but it’s still business I wanted to talk to you about”. “Then why aren’t the others here? Why is it just me and you?”. “Because I hoped you could help me with it, without making a fuss”. You were now a bit more comfortable, knowing that he (apparently) had no bad intentions. “If this is about your situation with Beth, I don’t wanna be involved, it’s you guys’ problem, not mine”.

He shook his head and licked his lips, your eyes following the movement for a split second before going back to his eyes. He noticed anyways, and smirked. “It is about me and Beth that I wanted to talk about… but it’s not what you think”, you stayed silent and he continued. “I want to reconsider our deal… and I’m talking about the benefits part. I can’t be around Beth anymore, it’s becoming a problem for the business”, you nodded, but still huffed. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Rio, we really can’t give you any more money, otherwise we can’t make end meets and we’ll be back at square one. You gotta understand… we’re no professionals in sneaking around and if we get caught, it’s gonna be bad. For everyone”, you were hoping you sounded reasonable enough and make him back down from wanting to change the deal. “I never said anything about the money, I was talking ‘bout the benefits”, he smirked at you and you frowned. “I’m not following, I’m sorry…”, you looked at him with a puzzled expression and he was unsure whether to voice his thoughts or not. Until it clicked in your head. “Oh, the benefits, okay. Well, in that case, Ruby’s married…”. “I’m talking about you, mama”, as much as he liked the chase, he wanted to make this short and get to the point. You seemed surprised, but still smiled at him. “And what makes you think I’d do that?”. “Because I know how you feel. This tension between us is hard to ignore, so how about we fix it, hm?”. You leaned back in the chair and crossed your arms over your chest; if he wanted to play games, you could do that, too. “Depends… are you good enough to fix it?”. “Careful, mama. You don’t wanna start something you can’t finish”. “Oh, but I can finish it. the real question is: can you?”.

What happened next was a blur, Rio was on your side of the table in less that a second, and you went from sitting to being bent over the kitchen table with his fingers inside you. Everything happened fast, but you were not complaining, especially when he was working you so well. The man knew what he was doing. “Is that good enough, mama? Or do you still doubt me?”, his voice was almost a whisper in your ear, and it gave you goose bumps. “Answer me”, his other hand knotted in your hair, pulling your head back a bit. “It’s so good, Rio, don’t stop”, you were already a mess and he hadn’t even made you cum yet. “Thought so”, he replied proudly, he knew he was good and he was going to show it to you. You whined when he removed his fingers and tried to push back your hips, he chuckled behind you kissed your shoulder lovingly. “What’s the matter, baby, d’ya need something?”, you nodded and decided to throw your dignity out the window and beg. “Please, Rio, make me cum, please, please”, your words were slurred, and you had no shame in being vocal. He led you to the couch and started to unbutton his pants. “How do you want it?”, he asked as he looked you over, your eyes hungry for more and you felt your heartbeat in your ears. You laid on your back and spread your legs, letting him settle between your thighs and line himself up with your opening. He looked you in the eyes as he slid inside you, giving you a moment to get used to him, before dragging his hips slowly back and forth. “Fuck, mama, you feel so fucking good”, your moans were the only verbal response you gave, and they increased in volume as his pace got faster. You squealed when he got on his knees on the sofa, his hands now on the back of your thighs, pushing your legs towards your body, his tip now hitting that exact spot. “Found it”, he smirked proudly and moved even faster, making you clutch at the cushions behind you. “Right there, don’t stop”, you moaned again and again. He wanted to stop the time and have you like this forever, your eyes closed in blissed as your walls were clamping down on his dick, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. “So good for me, so pretty. Can you cum for me?”, he put one of your legs on his shoulder, his cock slipping deeper inside you, making you cry out. He kept whispering how good you looked, while his thumb made contact with your clit, moving it in circles and applying pressure. You nodded frantically and one of your hands shot out to grab at his side, nails digging into his skin. His hand on your waist gripped you tighter, “Let go, mama, I got you. Cum for me”. His words sent you over the edge, your back arching and only his name coming out of your mouth. You still had your eyes closed when he sped up his pace a bit, and you opened them just in time to see him squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back; he emptied himself inside you with a few more thrusts, before slowly reaching down and giving a soft kiss on your neck. Once he pulled out and you both gained your breath, you made quick work of composing yourself, getting your clothes back on and grabbing your belongings. He came back into the leaving room to see you all dressed and ready to go. His heart sunk a bit, the thought of you not wanting anything to with him after sex was not a pleasant one, but he’d never admit it. He didn’t want to ask question, not sure if he wanted to know the answers. “I should go”, you told him and pointed to the door. He nodded. “I’ll see you”, you smiled politely at his words, nodding and wishing him goodnight.

It became a habit, you and Rio would meet, have sex and then spend some time together. Sometimes it was a pizza and a movie, or a coffee, other times you’d spend the night, too tired to move after multiple rounds with Rio. It was just part of the deal. And that’s also what you told yourself to help you sleep at night, knowing you were not only going behind the girls, but behind Beth and her feelings, too. She had started to notice how he’d never call her anymore, how he would avoid her and throw one smile more your way. You, or Rio, had to come clean about this, because it wasn’t just business for Beth, and you didn’t want to have problems with anyone. So, one night, while getting dressed, you found the courage to speak. “Have you seen Beth, lately? Alone, I mean”, you put your shirt back on as Rio looked at your back, your face hidden from him. “No, ‘told you I was done with her”. “The we should tell her about this, she’s not gonna be happy and it could cause problems”. “Well, that’s your problem, not mine”. You stopped your actions and turned back to look at him. “My problem? You were the one that started fucking her in the first place. This – you motioned between you and him – is just business. But with her? You two have a situation and you need to solve it. It’s not my problem”. “Well, she shouldn’t have had feelings for me, in the first place”, he mocked your words. “And how is that my problem?”, you retorted. He didn’t have an honest answer and he knew he was trying to take the easy way out. You didn’t wait for an answer, though. “Maybe you should’ve stuck to fucking her”, you shook you head, unbelievable, you thought. And then you left.

It had been a week since Rio had seen you, and a week since your conversation about Beth. He found himself wanting to reach out, not just to have sex, that was just an addiction. He had come to enjoy your company, you were smart, funny, beautiful and never boring. And he was scared, because while he was there, itching to call you with the “benefits” excuse, you were living your life just fine, even without seeing him. Or so he thought.

Somewhere else around town, you were sitting in Annie’s house, eating dinner with the girls before starting to work again with the money. You were good at pretending, so you didn’t have a problem when it came to lie to the girls about what you were doing with their, your, boss. That was until Beth broke down on Annie’s sofa about Rio not wanting her, Rio ignoring her, her being hurt… and you felt guilty. Everyone tried to comfort her. “He’s got another woman”, Beth cried as Ruby rubbed her back soothingly. It wasn’t a question or a possibility, hers was a statement. “How do you know?”, Annie asked, curious at how she could be so sure about it. “I foll-owed him an-d he had som-eone over”, she spoke through hiccups and you felt worse with each passing second. Annie and Ruby looked at each other and the oldest shook her head, not knowing what to do or say. “He’s surely fucking a whore that only wants him for his money”, Beth kept crying and started to insult the girl that Rio was spending time with, ignoring that she was sitting in the same room as her.

After the fifth insult, you couldn’t just sit back and watch anymore. “Maybe he just doesn’t want you” you snapped. Now all eyes were on you, well shit. “What do you know about it?”, Annie inquired, squinting her eyes at you. “Nothing”, you expression was still hard, but your fists were clenched together. “You’re the one he’s fucking, aren’t you?”, Beth’s tears had stopped, realization hitting her, “That’s why you’re always busy and he always looks at you…”. The room fell silent as you hung your head. “He wanted to change the deal and-”, you couldn’t finish as Beth was on you in a second, Ruby and Annie holding her back from hurting you, and looking at you disapprovingly. Beth was still screaming when Annie grabbed your arm and lead you to the door. “Get out and don’t come back”. You had never seen her like this but did what you were told anyways. Even if Rio’s dick was good, it had cost you your friends and your job.

Deciding to think about everything in the morning, you went home and slept, way through the morning, too. When you opened your eyes, realization hit you: you were now alone. Without a job and you knew what that meant, business-wise: you were out, but as Rio once said to you, “The only way out is in a body bag”. You knew too much, about him, about what he did, about the money laundering that you couldn’t just go on with your life.

Another week passed and Rio decided that he had to see you, but without making it obvious, so he decided to pay a visit while the girls were working, expecting to find you there, but he was only met by Annie, Beth and Ruby. He decided not to say anything, but as soon as Beth made eye contact with him, her expression became full of anger and shook her head. “If you came here to find your girlfriend, this is the wrong place, sorry to disappoint”. He raised an eyebrow, “My girlfriend? Do I have a girlfriend that I don’t know about?”, he smirked at her but her expression stayed the same, Annie and Ruby staying silent. “She’s out, went behind our backs. She got what she deserved”, Beth spoke, proud of having you out of the group. Rio understood where her ‘being out’ led and furrowed his eyebrows. “Where is she?”. “I don’t know”, she now had a mischievous smile on her face. Rio’s hands balled into fists and almost flipped the table, the girls getting scared in the process. He left the house in a hurry, leaving Mick and a couple of his guys there in case you actually showed up. He broke the speed limit to get to your house, and when he picked the lock, he found it dark, the blinds shut, no dishes in the sink, no sign of your presence in the house. He was worried. Where were you? Were you okay? Were you safe? Why was he so worried? Was he in love with you? He didn’t have time to think about the possible answers because the sound of a gun being loaded brought him back to reality. “Rio?”.

He turned around, “Hey, mama”.

[cakesunflower]

Who’s Gonna Love You Like Me? [Brother’s Best Friend!Calum AU] Part 4

A/N: hello friends! i hope wherever you’re reading this, you’re quarantined and staying healthy and safe! this is a tough time for all of us and if you or a loved one is feeling sick, i wish you a speedy and easy recovery! i hope this chapter or any of my writing provides you with even a little bit of distraction.

stay safe, stay healthy, stay inside y’all! and happy reading!!

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

When Josie pulled up to the driveway of the house during her hour long lunch break, she pursed her lips at the sight of the black Range Rover parked behind Luke’s car. Josie sighed, shutting the door of her car and jingling her keys in her hand as she walked through the threshold of the house, confused gaze immediately landing on a suitcase that was settled on the ground next to the couch.

“Luke?” Josie called, her voice traveling through the house as she wandered into the kitchen. She was in dire need of some leftover spaghetti—so much so that she made the trip back home just to eat some for her lunch break. “Oh, brother of mine—where you at?”

“Why are you yelling?” She heard Luke huff as she crouched down slightly to pull out the dish of spaghetti, straightening and shutting the door with her foot. Her brother stood at the entrance of the kitchen, blonde hair pulled back in a bun, looking unfairly comfortable in his lounge wear. Someone decided to skip work. “And what’re you doing home?”

Josie lifted the bowl to show him before settling it on the counter. As she moved around to grab a bowl and fork, she answered, “Needed sustenance. What’re you doing home?” 

Luke crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “Didn’t you check my text?”

Scoffing dramatically as she shut the microwave to heat up her bowl, Josie faced her brother and returned, “I don’t check my texts at work or while I’m driving, Luke. I’m a responsible adult.” Sure, she remembered her phone buzzing with a text or two from him, but that didn’t necessarily mean she stopped what she was doing to check them.

He rolled his eyes, used to the playful sarcasm she’d become an expert on perfecting over the years. Fixing her with a pointed look, he said, “Calum’s moving in.”

What?

The air ceased from circulating in her lungs, prompting Josie to remain still where she stood as the smile she wore froze on her face. The beat of silence that passed between the two felt like an eternity in Josie’s ringing head, her grip on the counter behind her tightening as she forced herself to process Luke’s words quicker. Less time to make him feel suspicious as to why she was internally losing her goddamn mind. Her heart had picked up its pace, fast in the way it lodged itself in her throat as she blinked quickly.

“I—uh, why?” She hoped the smile on her face wasn’t as nervous as her voice sounded in her ears. “And where’s he gonna sleep? You don’t have another extra room.” The only spare bedroom was now hers.

Luke scratched his beard as he pushed himself off the wall, walking over to the bowl of fruit on the center counter he’d been eyeing earlier. He picked up a red apple as he informed Josie, “Something about a burst pipe? I don’t know, I told him he could stay with us. The couch’s a pull-out. It’s only temporary—he should be fine.”

Josie desperately wanted to ask why Ashton or Michael couldn’t house their friend, biting her tongue when she remembered Ashton only lived in a one bedroom apartment and Michael and Crystal were currently going through a very stressful move from their own apartment to a new house. Despite the lack of bed, Calum moving into Luke’s place was the most logical decision. Even if it had Josie’s heart racing out of pure guilt and nerves. How the hell was she supposed to keep her mind off of him when he would be sleeping down the fucking stairs? Josie had known moving to L.A. would significantly increase her chances of running into Calum—but in the living room? Fuck.

“Wait, shit—I should’ve asked you first, right? I mean, this is your place now too and, like, if you don’t want—”

Luke’s rambling broke Josie out of her guilt ridden thoughts—as did the sudden beeping of the microwave—and she blinked her wide eyes before interrupting her brother. “No, no, it’s fine,” Josie assured him with a gentle laugh, almost forced, as she quickly turned to take the bowl out of the microwave. Her nerves didn’t even allow her to acknowledge the hotness of the bowl burning her fingers before she set it down. She felt a pang ricochet through her chest at her brother’s sudden worry of not clearing with her if his friend could move in to his own home. As an attempt of covering up her guilt, nerves, whatever the fuck it may be, Josie added with a gentle laugh, “I thought I wouldn’t be caught in another sleepover with you and your boys after you moved out.”

Apparently that was enough to have Luke break out into a short bout of laughter, grinning around the red apple as he bit into it with a sharp crunch. Her brother winked at her, moving to leave the kitchen as he said, “You can’t escape us that easily, Jos.”

She could wish, though.

Rather than retreating to the living room or to the dining table, Josie hopped up on the couch, placing a small tray in her lap so the bottom of the hot bowl didn’t burn her lap as she twirled the pasta around her fork. Josie ate her lunch absently, able to vaguely hear the music playing upstairs and the two pairs of footsteps, not at all making a move to go up and see her brother and new temporary roommate.

Luke was only being a good friend by having Calum move in with them, but of course he wasn’t aware of the complication that tensed Josie’s muscles at the thought of Calum living with them. That being said, Calum knew. He knew first hand how awkward it could potentially get with the two of them being under the same roof—the last time they were, they’d crossed the line that had disappeared since. They were already around each other more than it was helpful; this temporary living arrangement wouldn’t be doing them any favors.

Letting out a sharp breath through her nose as she chewed, Josie’s shoulders slumped, disenchanted gaze casted down to her bowl. Was she overreacting? She couldn’t clearly tell and couldn’t bring it in herself to care. Looking her brother in the eye had become hard enough—now the reason for that was living with them. The universe seemed to be against her.

So lost in her thoughts, Josie hadn’t even been aware of the footsteps that were approaching until there was another person in the room, looking up to see the man who had consumed her thoughts lingering by the entrance. She looked up, sensing him before she even saw him, slowly swallowing the mouthful of pasta as her eyes met his dark ones. Calum didn’t say anything, didn’t try to. She recognized, wryly, the reluctance he wore on his face, lips pursed as they silently stared at one another.

Josie lifted her chin, raising an eyebrow as she repeated the same words he’d said to her on one of her first days in L.A., right here in this kitchen. “You could’ve given me a heads up.”

“Thought I’d return the favor of giving you a surprise,” Calum returned smoothly, moving further into the kitchen. He went to the fridge, which happened to be on Josie’s immediate left, given that she was sitting on the counter right by it. Josie’s expression dropped into a deadpan, and Calum scoffed as he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. As he uncapped it, he looked at her, letting out a sigh as a meaningful expression flashed across his face. “It’s only temporary. It’s not a big deal, Josie.”

She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. “Do you seriously believe that?” she challenged, not entirely satisfied by his statement. He didn’t even sound like he believed it, so how was he going to try and convince her otherwise?

Calum sighed sharply once more, facing the ceiling briefly—Josie fought the urge to eye at the expanse of his neck, at the way her lips had once felt on it—before looking down at her with a tired, almost bored expression. Calum spoke quickly, an irritated rasp in his voice as he retorted, “No, Jos, I don’t; but I can’t stay at Ash or Mike’s and I couldn’t give Luke a legit reason to deny his offer other than the fact that I fucked his sister.”

Her eyes grew wide, absently glad she didn’t have a mouthful of spaghetti she would’ve definitely choked on upon hearing Calum’s words. With her free hand, she smacked his arm, gaze darting towards both entrances of the kitchen, looking into the living room and towards the hall leading to the stairs in case Luke was anywhere near. Her heart had jumped in her throat, feeling a fire spark in the pit of her belly as Calum’s words resonated in her head.

“Are you serious?” she hissed, incredulous gaze on him as Calum rolled his dark eyes, taking a sip of the beer. No longer did he look as reluctant as he had when he first came into the kitchen, now adopting a demeanor too casual than the situation called for. He looked like he could care less about the situation, meanwhile Josie felt her heart pick up its pace. Whether it was at Calum so casually flinging around his words or at the reminder of a night she would never forget, Josie wasn’t sure. Most likely both. She shook her head at him. “Shut up—Luke might hear you.”

“He went to take a shower,” Calum informed, unfazed by the tension in Josie’s voice. She hated how calmly he stood there, and it only made her believe that she truly was overreacting over the whole situation. But she knew Calum—or, well, liked to think that she did—and she remembered the way he had looked so tense on the night of her welcoming party. If her being in the same city as him had his teeth grinding, Josie believed it was fair for her stomach to be in constant knots because of him staying in her house.

“Look, just—” Calum sighed once again, running a hand through his growing hair, resting it at the back of his neck as he looked at Josie. He dropped his hand to the side, offering a shrug. “Just relax, okay? It’ll be fine. You work during the day and I work at night so I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other, okay? It’s only temporary.”

It’s only temporary. It was only that one time. The latter were words that echoed in the back of Josie’s head every time Calum came into view. She had a feeling the former would come back to bite her in the ass someday, somehow. 

Her eyes met his once more, her lips pursed, and Calum did his best by offering a small smile before turning to leave the kitchen once more. Josie watched him, took in the delicious expanse of his back under the soft material of his red shirt, the tattoos on his arms feeling as though they were only there to make her want to trace them with her fingers. The black ink looked so pretty against his skin, art on art, and Josie hadn’t realized she’d been chewing on her lips until she parted them to speak up without much thought.

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit worried?”

About this? About us? About Luke finding out and about everything falling apart all over again even though it was barely put back together?

Calum stopped, shoulders lifting briefly before he looked at her over his shoulder. He shook his head with a proper shrug of his shoulders, raising his eyebrows as he asked, “What’s there to be worried about? So long as we keep our mouths shut, we’re fine.”

Josie wanted to laugh at his words, giving an unconvinced tilt of her head and an almost sad raise of her own eyebrows. In that moment, Calum had become too good at masking his emotions, his thoughts, and she found the frustration gnawing at her when she couldn’t get a good read on what he truly thought. “You seriously don’t believe that, do you?” she still tried by asking.

Calum’s gaze averted, looking towards the wall to his right. With the view she had of his profile, Josie picked up on the way he clenched his jaw, the muscle jumping, sexy and tense and complicated. There was a heavy silence for a minute, the tension of their situation weighing them both down as Calum finally sighed. He shook his head, turning away from her as he continued his way out of the kitchen, not before answering, “I’m trying to.”

The three word answer Calum had given Josie sat with her for the rest of the day when she went back to work to finish her shift. She moved mechanically, an interested facade put up to please the clients she met with despite her head begging her to focus on something else—to focus on Calum and what he had said.

In the midst of washing and drying and cutting hair, Josie couldn’t shake it off. I’m trying to. He was trying to what? Believe that they would be fine? That everything would be okay? Did he think that things between the two of them would never be the same after what happened? The thought of it, the thought of her friendship with Calum getting knocked down several pegs, left an ache in Josie’s chest she couldn’t quite voice. Of course things would be different after the night they spent together in her dorm. You can’t just look at someone, much less a person who was your good, close friend, the same way after they gave your five mind blowing orgasms in one night.

Shit. Fuck, that was besides the point. Even if she couldn’t stop imagining the way he kissed her every time she caught him biting his lower lip, or feel her knees quiver as she remembered the way he carried her to her bed in the dorm. . .

God. Of course things wouldn’t be the same between them after that night. She wondered if Calum had to fight similar thoughts from infiltrating his mind, if he had to remind himself that he couldn’t be thinking about her the way she thought about him. At this point, though, what was the use? They’d already overstepped physically. Thoughts couldn’t hurt anyone.

Though they were torturous. And as Josie continued with her shift, they only settled heavily on her heart. Both of them knew sleeping together would fuck things up, but they went through with it anyway—because they were selfish. Because they’d only been thinking about themselves and their needs, not about their friends or her brother. They had just been chalked up as consequences they would have to deal with later, and later was now and Josie had no idea what to do. Maybe Calum had the right idea, to just try and pretend it was fine. Fake it til you make it, that sort of thing. They’d come this far, right?

Yet each step forward seemed to be harder than the last.

When she’d returned home from work, Josie was quick to rid herself of her makeup and change into her pajamas before collapsing on the bed, the softness of the mattress and pillows and cool blankets inviting. She didn’t quite remember when she fell asleep, but she did remember being pulled out of it in the middle of the night, hours later with a dry throat and desperate need for water.

Sleepily, she got up from her bed, bare feet padding towards the door as she pushed her blonde hair out of her face. As Josie made her way down the hallway towards the stairs, her eyebrows furrowed as a sound greeted her, distant but still in the house. Slowly, she made her way downstairs, and with each step she descended, the more distinct the sound became, recognizing it as uncomfortable grunts and huffs.

She walked into the kitchen, flipping on the stove light which was the dullest, and as she filled up a glass of water, her gaze wandered to the kitchen where the sounds kept coming from. Glass in hand, Josie stepped over to the entrance of the kitchen that opened into the living room, and with the dull light on the stove, she could make out Calum’s figure tossing and turning on the pullout mattress of the couch.

The grunts were coming from him, annoyed and uncomfortable, and Josie realized that as nice as the couch was to sit on, the mattress was probably not the same. She rolled her lips into her mouth, eyebrows drawing together at his clear discomfort. Aware of his schedule, Josie knew he probably got home from work about an hour or so ago, probably battling for a comfortable position since then, and before she had the chance to truly think about it, she was making her way into the living room and where he lay.

“Calum,” she spoke, her voice quiet as to not startle him, standing by the makeshift bed. “Hey.”

He stopped before sitting up, dark eyes meeting hers as he blinked in mild confusion at the sight of her. The blanket pooled at his lap, hands brace against the mattress and providing Josie with the sight of his biceps, in full view thanks to his muscle tee. She pushed back the image of when her nails had dug right into the muscle, of the feeling of his arms wrapped around her in something more intimate than a hug.

“Josie,” he frowned, tired and a bit puzzled. “You good?”

She fought the smile that threatened to upturn her lips. “I should be asking you that.” She eyed the mattress, raising an eyebrow. “Is it that uncomfortable?”

“Uh,” Calum paused with a slight chuckle, looking at what he was laying on as if he was seeing it for the first time. “Prison beds might be more comfortable.”

Josie pursed her lips. For all his money, Luke should invest in a better pullout. She gave herself a moment to consider her thoughts, knowing the danger of even thinking them, but she couldn’t just let Calum suffer through a night of terrible sleep. Things between them were weird, both of them trying to navigate through uncharted waters, but she couldn’t use that as an excuse to allow him to sleep on an uncomfortable bed.

“Come on—” she ticked her head towards the stairs before she psyched herself out of her decision. “My bed’s a lot comfier.”

Calum’s gaze met hers, saw something unknown settle in his features as he asked her, “You sure that’s a good idea?”

There was a burning in her cheeks, grip on her glass tightening as she forced her expression to remain neutral, not effected. “We’re just sleeping,” she told him, hating that she felt her voice waver as if she was trying to convince herself of the truth. That’s all they would be doing. Sleeping.

He hesitated for a moment, eyeing her from where he sat, and Josie merely looked back at him with an expectant raise of her eyebrows. Her head kept telling her it was a bad idea, but she told it to shut up. The worst thing she could’ve done had already taken place—she couldn’t let him sleep so uncomfortably after being behind a bar all night. Besides, it’d only be for tonight; tomorrow, she’d tell Calum to hint at Luke in getting a new couch, and if Luke found out his best friend had a shit night on his own couch, no doubt the blonde would buy another one.

When Calum finally let out a breath and got up, Josie took a step back, glancing down at herself as she rolled her lower lip into her mouth at the sight of her clothes. Her pajamas consisted of sleep shorts and an old softball shirt cut to be a crop top, and under the sudden weight of Calum’s gaze, Josie felt a bit too exposed in front of him.

As he stood before her, tall figure easily looming over hers and dark eyes traveling from her blue painted toes all the way to her eyes, Josie’s skin flushed as she told herself she was being ridiculous. He’d fucking seen her naked; she couldn’t get more exposed to that.

Breaking their gaze because the fluttering of her heart was becoming too much, Josie silently turned to head back up the stairs, Calum’s presence behind her one she couldn’t hope to ignore as they silently moved through the dark house. Their footsteps were light as they approached Josie’s room, though it wasn’t needed—Luke could sleep through an earth quake.

Her bedroom was dark, which Josie was grateful for as she went to the right side of the bed, setting her glass down as she sat on the edge and was all too aware of Calum moving around to the other side. Josie’s back was still to him as she felt the mattress shift underneath her because of his weight, and she played with the blanket as she eyed the wall ahead of her. The room was suffocatingly silent, one she really wanted to get rid of. She didn’t want to be weird in front of Calum—too late for that, the voice in her head mocked—but she couldn’t help it. And not for the first time, while Josie didn’t regret what they’d done, she did hate the tense aftermath of it all.

As if she was trying to somehow reassure herself, Josie didn’t look back at Calum as she asked, “This isn’t gonna be weird, is it?”

He was silent for only a second. “No. It’s fine if, y’know, you don’t think about what happened the last time we were in bed together.”

The casualness in which he spoke in had Josie huffing with a drop of her shoulders, bringing her legs up so she could lay on the bed, though she paused as she shot Calum a look. Even in the dark of her room, she saw the smirk curling at his lips as he copied her position. She had nothing substantial to say other than, “Literally, shut up,” through flushed cheeks as she dug her legs under the blanket. Calum merely snickered, feeling a lot more at ease than she was, and she narrowed her eyes when she caught him just staring at her. The amused playfulness danced in his eyes, shamelessly raking his gaze on her as he sat with his back agains the headboard, an easiness in his features Josie felt overwhelmed by. With a heat in her cheeks, she subtly wrestled with the blanket and told him, “Stop looking at me like that.”

Her words prompted a laugh from Calum, raising his eyebrows as he tilted his head almost challengingly. “Really?” he hummed, picking up his phone. His face lit up with the screen, shadowing the sharp features of his face as she watched him set up an alarm for half an hour before Luke’s went off. Eyes meeting hers once more with a smirk, he finished, “You didn’t seem to care when I was literally in you, like, three month ago.”

Josie’s jaw slackened, an incredulous squeak getting caught in her throat as she stared at him in a mixture of disbelief, feeling the entirety of her skin flush at the blatant reminder of a night she couldn’t ever forget. “Stop,” she stated through gritted teeth, no real annoyance or anger in her tone as she huffed and laid down, turning her back to him as she added pointedly, “Goodnight, Calum.”

Assuming sleep would come easy when there was an achingly familiar warm body next to hers would be foolish on Josie’s part, the blanket brought up to her chin as she stared at the digital clock on her bedside table. The green numbers read 2:56 A.M. and Josie suppressed a sigh. Her shift wasn’t until ten, so not getting enough sleep wasn’t a concern. It was just the act of falling asleep itself, with Calum in the same bed as hers, that kept her brain kicking and muscles tense.

It was silent only for a few moments until Calum’s voice spoke up. “So. . . How’ve you been?”

Josie’s eyebrows raised where she lay, unsure of what he was playing at or why he was trying to start a conversation right now. He was fucking with her, wasn’t he? “Calum, it’s three in the morning and the only reason why I suggested sleeping in my room is because I’m a good person and you were being too loud.”

She could hear the damned smirk in his voice as he didn’t miss a beat and instantly retorted, “You think that’s what your neighbors were saying when you were screaming my name that night?”

Josie’s eyes squeezed shut as she brought her hands up to cover her face, preventing herself from screaming into her palms as she felt Calum’s body shake subtly with the deep chuckles that were escaping him. She hated that despite the memories his words brought up, she felt the tension in her muscles surprisingly ease, no longer feeling suffocated in her own room. “Calum, I swear to God I will kick you off my bed.”

“I’m just playin’, Josie.”

Despite the sound of his laugh making her heart thrum, Josie felt her jaw tighten as she remembered their conversation earlier in the afternoon. So she turned to face him, propping herself up on her elbow as she peered down at his laying figure. Calum’s dark eyes instantly met her blue, and she saw the way his expression faltered when he noted the mild hardness in hers. “You’re completely going against what you said earlier today, remember?” she demanded with a challenging quirk of her eyebrow. “Trying to pretend that we’re fine isn’t gonna happen if you keep bringing up what happened.”

“I was wrong.” Calum propped himself up on his elbow as well and Josie didn’t pull back despite the sudden proximity. She could smell his familiar cologne that still stuck to his skin, tickling her nose. With this new closeness, she saw the way his eyes flickered down to her lips, sending her heart to her throat as his low voice spoke, “You and I—we’re fine. No pretending necessary.”

Josie was having a hard time ignoring her racing heart, her own gaze on his kissable mouth, feeling the familiar pull tugging her towards him and doing her best to fight it. “Unless we’re with everyone else, right?”

His lips curled upwards in a small smirk. “We’ve made it this long,” Calum responded with an agreeing tone. Josie’s heart stilled when Calum’s hand reached up, fingers pushing back a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, her teeth pressing together when his fingers just barely grazed her cheek, igniting a fire in their wake. He still had that effect on her. “We got this, pretty girl.”

Her lungs were robbed of air as he spoke, and Josie subtly raised her eyebrows as she shot him a look. Her voice was quiet in the dark of her room, teeth lightly grazing her lower lip as she told him softly, “We won’t if you keep calling me that.”

Calum had been watching her bite her lower lip and Josie wondered if it was just as difficult for him to not lean in and close the gap between them as it was for her. Calum half-smiled, dropping his hand from her as he finally said, “G’night, Jos.”

He settled back down, back towards her, and Josie tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling. She could feel the heat of his body next to hers despite the space between the two of them, and Josie rolled her lips into her mouth as she settled down as well, her back towards his. Yet another bad idea for the books.

At this point, she might as well become the poster child for stupid relationship decisions. Sooner or later, it would come to bite her in the ass.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @loveroflrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @theagenderwhocriedwolf @bitchinbabylon @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @calistheloml @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @wildflowergrae​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @thesubtweeter​ 

[daddychims]

Offside Pt 9

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Masterlist!

Genre: Smut, Soccer AU, College AU

Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!

You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.

Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!

"J-Jeon," You breath heavily, the sensation of his hard member brushing against your thighs running a rush of arousal between your thighs "open the door!"

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk flying on the corner of his lips "Sure?" he asks, pressing himself against you and grinding his lower abdomen

"I-Aah-" you moan out when he finally touches you where you need the most, eyes widening at the realization that the lewd sound has finally left your lips "J-Jeon!"

"See?" He smirks as he continues traps you between his two veiny arms that rest just beside your head on the wall "You just gotta let go and enjoy it," he leans closer, lips pressing close to your ears "Trust me, I can make you feel so good, you'll forget everything."

"B-But Jeon-" you voice out the words weakly, every nerve In your body fighting against your logic for more stimulation

"Just like that baby, " he nods in approval as he traps your earlobe between his teeth and nibbles on the soft flesh "Call my name like that"

You close your eyes, his seductive voice and sinful action against your core making you lose a momentary control when a loud knock on the door snaps you back to the reality, and you immediately flinch against his touch.

"Jeon, your girl is asking if she should go home?"

You hear Taehyung's words yelling against the wooden door, your eyes wandering on the guy whose face is resting a few inches away from your neck, eyes hooded and dark.

"Tell her to go home," He yells in annoyed tone "I'm busy."

"No!" You immediately retract as you guard your arms up against his chest to establish the space he's trying to occupy "Jeon, Stop messing around and open this door! Seriously!"

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk flying on the corner of his lips "You sure?" he asks, rolling his hips skilfully against yours in attempt to change your mind

"I-" you breath out, struggling to form the words "I'm sure!" you nod, trapping your bottom lips between your teeth to prevent any further sounds leaving your lips

"Fine!" His expression hardens as he rests one hand on the side of your head while the other plays with the lock of the door, you watch as his eyes glance between you and the door lock, gaze dark and unimpressed as you just wait for him to finish his task.

You sigh in relief, feeling the pressure off your thighs as he finally ceases his misbehave down there and unlocks the door with a click.

"I guess I'll see you soon," you murmur the words weakly, in an attempt to fill out the awkward silence between you

"In two days," He confirms as he grabs your arm and pull you to the side to open the door

"Can we meet on campus?" you quickly ask, trying to prevent the future risks of being alone with him in his room again

"No, I don’t really want people to see us."

"Oh" you respond with the sound of disappointment, as something inside you sinks unexpectedly, so he's embarrassed to be seen with me, you think.

"Meet here?" he asks, breaking the silence as he looks at you with intrigued eyes

"S-Sure!" you nod reluctantly as you quickly avert your gaze and turn around to leave his room.

When you open the door, Taehyung is waiting outside looking at you with a mischievous smile

"Here they are," He flashes you his usual goofy smile before bringing his eyes to the girl beside him who's standing there staring at the two of you, more specifically at Jeon "I hope we didn’t get in the way of anything."

"Nah its alright, we're done."

You hear Jungkook's words and immediately turn around to look back at him with furrowed eyebrows at how quickly he changed his plan with you.

"What?" He asks raising an eyebrow as he rests his weight on the doorframe "Do you have anything else you wanna discuss?"

"No." You reply dryly, trying really hard to hide the roll in your eyes at his smug act

"Okay then," he nods as he reaches forward and grabs the girl's arm and pulls her inside his room, giving you one last smirk which is tainted with annoyance before shutting the door in your face.

"Woah!"

You hear Taehyung's comment but decide to just shrug it off as you make your way down the hallway, trying to hide your own emotional turmoil and the fact that you were about to fall for the fuckboy's act a few seconds ago.

"I thought you guys were up to something," you hear Taehyung's voice as he wraps his arm "But I guess even Hanguk's golden boy cant get into your pants Sugar."

"Why? You wanted to call dibs on his girl?" You look at him with a teasing smile  as you stand just before the entrance and look back at him "Sorry I ruined your plan Tae!" you fake pout

"Not exactly my plan," he smirks amused at your response as he leans closer against your lips "I was more thinking about joining the two of you." he wiggles his eyebrows

"Maybe you can join them?" You point at Jungkook's room, tone tinted with a slight saltiness that is foreign to your own ears

"Nah," he throws his shoulder up, hands reaching up to mess his freshly showered hair "Jungkook will probably take his anger off on the poor girl, don’t wanna get in his way."

"What? Why?" You furrow your eyebrows, gulping nervously as you hear his words

"So unfair," he murmurs as he arms wrap around your neck and pull you closer to his face as he looks into your eyes "You pissed him off, but the poor girl will be walking with a limp for a week," he then smirks as if he's imagining what will happen in that room as he mutters "I'm pretty sure she'll love it though!"

You just stare at him with lost eyes, a cold shiver running down your spine as you digest every single word when he finally releases his hold on your neck "See you at training, Sugar!" he waves as he turns around and walks down the hallway to his own room.

-

"I can't believe you woke me up at 7 AM on a Saturday morning for a professional development seminar."

You bring your eyes from the pamphlets in front of you to the whining guy who's sitting across you, sipping on his iced coffee

"Joon, I'm sorry but literally no one in my group of friends are nerd enough to do this with me," you pout as you quickly take a slice of the cake in between you on the table and bring it to his mouth

"So what's with the sudden interest in Exercise Induced Asthma?" He asks leaning closer to look at the piles of notes you made in the one hour seminar "I thought you don’t wanna work in Sports!"

"I still don’t," You nod as you try to avert your gaze clumsily "But you know, the job opportunities are limited and who knows what I'll get once I graduate. Just trying to keep my options open."

"Very convincing," he laughs "Even my dog knows you want nothing to do with sports physio since year 1. who are you trying to fool?"

"I-" you hesitate before quickly bringing your pinky finger "Swear you wont tell anyone?"

"Woah, this is more serious than I thought," he nods intertwining his pinky with you "what is it?"

"You know Jeon from Hanguk's soccer team?"

"Of course," he nods "Hanguk's Golden boy, who doesn’t know him?"

"He has asthma," you murmur, looking around to make sure no one is hearing you

"Oh, that …" his expression hardens as if he remembers not very foreign memories "I knew that," he averts his gaze as he continues "Earlier this year when we were doing the team admission, the school asked me to give them a hand in the selections."

"He applied for SNU?" your eyes widen in surprise "and then chose Hanguk over SNU? That doesn’t make sense!"

"Well no," he shakes his head "Both schools were trying to recruit him," he takes a sip of his coffee as he continues "they kept upping each other's offer trying to lure him in and in the end he chose SNU!"

"Then why is he in Hanguk now-"

 "A week after he applied for the team, SNU rejected him and that’s how he ended up In Hanguk's team."

"Why would SNU let him go? Weren't they trying to recruit him in the first place?" you immediately ask trying to connect the dots "Why …" your eyes widen at the sudden realization "because of his Asthma?"

"You did NOT hear it from me," he quickly warns "This is highly confidential information, they will kick me out of the school if they know I told anyone."

"Oh," you nod, biting the corner of your lips "so that’s what happened!"

"Yeah, its shame he couldn’t join our team. the guy has a lot of potential," he nods with a pout  "I was looking forward to having him."

"That's why he's so adamant about it," you whisper as things start to make sense in your head

"Why are you suddenly so interested in Jeon?"

Joon's question brings you back to the moment and you part your lips to answer when his pupils dilate

"Are you- OH MY GOD YOU'RE FUCKING HANGUK'S GOLDEN BOY!"

You bite your lips, sending an apologetic smile to a couple of people who are doing their work in the pleasant silence which is now disturbed thanks to your friend.

"Joon can you please keep it down?" You scold as you quickly cover the guy's lips

"Y/N, you cant!" he quickly pulls your eyes down and hold them as he looks at you with stern eyes "I'm not allowing this."

"I'm not sleeping with him," you rush the words trying to calm him down

"Then why?" his eyes widen again "Do you like him? YOU LIKE JEON?" he raises his voice again receiving another unpleasant glare from those around you

"No, Oh My God Joon can you please let me explain," you sigh as his expression finally softens and he nods "I've been given a homework by Dr Kim, the clinic's Sports medicine specialist to work on his medication before the games. That’s it!"

Joon furrows his eyebrows trying to put the new information in the context

"That’s why I wanted to go to this seminar today," you explain pointing at the pile of papers in front of you "I thought it might help me understand his condition better."

"Are you sure that’s it?" He asks after a few moments of pause "Jeon is a good guy on the field," he continues "But from what I heard he's the type that bets on his tally counter of girls he fucks in a week," he hesitates as he reads your expression "he's not your type of guy Y/N."

"Joon," you smile, heart warming at his words of warning "I live on Hanguk's campus, I've heard about his reputation. You have nothing to worry about me."

"You don’t really get what I mean," he sighs as he leans with a worried smile "I'm not worried about you," he hesitates, chewing his words as he adds "I'm worried about him and his effect on you."

You gulp nervously, the words of concern hitting differently this time. If you were quite honest, you were also worried about the golden boy's effect on yourself . No matter how tough you were, it was only a while before you gave in to his games if he really wanted to repeat what he did yesterday.

"I'll be fine, he doesn’t even look at girls like me," you quickly form the words, trying to not worry your best friend with your abnormally long silence "really Joon, don’t worry."

“If you say so,” He nods, still unconvinced by your reassuring words before he mutters "by the way, You don’t think you paid me back with just a cake and coffee, did you?"

"What?" You ask in a confused tone "I thought we're even now!"

"Incorrect," he shakes his head "Now that I accompanied you to your nerdy morning, you need to do me a favor!”

"I should have known," you sigh, staring back at the guy "You sounded too enthusiastic this morning, you planned this all along."

"I'm a man of passion," he says in a proud tone "I do anything to get what I want, even if that means waking up and dozing off in the most boring seminar of my life."

"It wasn’t that bad," you pout as you gather your papers "Fine, what time and where?"

"That’s my best friend," he grins through his teeth "I'll text you the dets."

[the-quiet-winds]

Between Angels and Demons (part two)

[Part two of this AU by me and @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts. TW for mentions / discussions of abuse and panic attacks]

[part one]

[Part 2: Till the Stars Lost the War]

The next morning starts similarly, with first hour entering in slow herds as the first bell threatened to ring, with Katherine Howard sprinting in with seconds to spare, landing in her chair, panting and red from running.

Jane doesn’t say anything about Katherine’s sudden appearance, not wanting to draw any more attention to the girl. Instead she just starts the lesson.

“We’ll be working on some context for our first book project this week,” she announces. “Remember, on Monday we’ll be starting reading it in class, so please bring in your copies of the text.”

Even through her heated state, Katherine pales quite a bit. Jane notices this, how could she not, and slips a post-it note on the back of Katherine’s handout. 

“If there’s anything we need to discuss,” it says in neat, scripted writing that, it Katherine was being honest, she could read all day, “you’re welcome to join me at lunch again.”

Katherine doesn’t show much sign that she’s read the note, but sure enough, at lunchtime Katherine hovers in the doorway of the classroom, again with an apple clasped in her hands. Jane sends her a kind smile.

“Ah, hello, Katherine. come in.”

Katherine takes a few hesitant steps forwards and Jane indicates the chair opposite her desk.

“Feel free to take a seat.”

Katherine does so after a brief pause. Jane gives her another gentle smile.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about, Katherine?”

The girl shifts somewhat uncomfortably. “It’s...it’s about the books, that’s all.”

Jane gives a tight smile - she knew the conversation from the first day wasn’t over. “What about them?”

“I don’t know if I'll be able to get them,” Katherine says quietly, not making eye contact with Jane. “Do you know where I could get a second-hand copy?”

“If it’s a financial issue,” Jane states softly, “then the school can help you out.” Katherine looks up and smiles a bit. “I'll just call your house later-“

“No!” Katherine immediately protests. she coughs and lowers her voice. “I mean no thank you, I'll...I'll figure it out, Miss Seymour.”

Jane isn’t convinced, and a plan is already forming in her head; she’s sure she could find a spare copy before Monday, and she could bring it in just in case Katherine hadn’t been able to get one. She doesn’t push the issue, though, and instead she changed the subject.

“I take it you like apples, Katherine?”

“What?” Katherine says, confused, then suddenly nods. “Oh, yeah. apples.” She flushes slightly pink.

Jane smiles at the faint blush that rises in Katherine’s cheeks. She then leans over to her own lunch bag and pulls out another apple, offering it to Katherine. “Would you like it?”

“Oh no, Miss Seymour,” Katherine immediately protests, “I don’t want to take anything from you.”

Jane gives another soft smile. “I accidentally grabbed two this morning,” Jane lies, but she sees that the apples seem to be the only thing Katherine eats, “if you’d like it…,” she trails off and sets it equidistant between them on her desk.

Katherine glances between Jane and the apple, a clear struggle going on in her mind. Jane isn’t sure what makes the girl choose this decision, but finally Katherine reaches out and picks up the apple.

“Thank you, Miss Seymour,” she says quietly, fidgeting slightly. Jane smiles.

“It’s no trouble, Katherine. You’re welcome to stay to eat, but if you wanted to go and spend some time with your friends instead then you’re more than welcome to do that too. It’s up to you.”

Katherine blushes again, deeply and darker than Jane had seen yet. “I don’t have a lot of friends,” Katherine admits quietly. She hides herself behind another bite of apple, thoroughly embarrassed at admitting that to a teacher. “I hang out by myself a lot,” she continues, wondering why she was still talking.

“Well, if you’re ever bored at lunch time, I've been meaning to put up some new displays in this room,” Jane smiles gently. “I'd appreciate any help.” Jane hadn’t really been planning on redecorating the classroom, but something about the girl’s skittish demeanor and the way she talked about not having many friends had Jane concerned. Was there a bully, perhaps? It would explain why Katherine wasn’t buying any lunch; if there was a financial issue she would be entitled to free lunches, so that wouldn’t stop her. No, it was likely another person who was.

Katherine looks down at her desk, but Jane can see that increasingly familiar blush rising in her cheeks and the way her lips twitch into a half-smile, just for a flicker of a second. But then it changes, her features pull into a neutral mask, a perfectly placed facade so similar to the one she remembers the narrator describing in 'The Glass Castle'...

Jane's eyes narrow of their own accord - something was definitely amiss in this equation.

Jane keeps up her subtle observation of the girl as the conversation turns to the weekend, trying to figure out if there was something wrong - as her teacher, Jane had a responsibility to make sure she was alright, after all.

“I'm really grateful for the weekend,” she shares, “it gives me the perfect time to catch up on all the marking I have to do.” She offers a friendly smile. “What do kids do on the weekend these days?”

“Homework, mostly,” Katherine shrugs, suddenly very interested in her apple. “Or studying for tests. That kind of thing.”

Jane gives a slight frown at this - the girl seemed to already work so hard, and she doesn’t even take a break on the weekends. Even Jane herself can’t hold that standard, and didn’t when she was a student.

“Katherine?” Jane asks gently, trying to get the girl’s attention without startling her. When the girl lets out a noncommittal hum, Jane continues, “I do hope you take some time this weekend to unwind. I know how stressful the first week is. Perhaps a trip to the library? Or a bit of time watching some TV?”

Katherine flushes pink again. “Oh, I don’t have a TV,” she says, although it doesn’t quite seem like the full truth. “Besides, I've got to study hard if I want to get into a good university, right?” She gives an uncomfortable little shrug, and Jane’s frown doesn’t ease.

“Even so, it’s best to take some time to rest. I wouldn’t want my star student to overwork herself.” The comment comes out without Jane really realising, but Katherine seems to sit up slightly straighter with pride at it.

Jane sees the warmth blossom in Katherine’s face - a genuine, albeit shy, smile and a hopeful, youthful light behind her eyes. 

“Do you really mean that?” Katherine asks, and her voice sounds so young and small and Jane feels a rush of... well she didn’t quite know what, but she smiles softly regardless. 

“Yes, Kat,” Jane says, the nickname forming unconsciously, and Jane doesn’t even notice, “your writing, your attentive attitude… plus who would forego a lunch period with friends just to sit with their old teacher? I love having kids like you in my class, especially you.”

Katherine takes a moment to process the information, then she smiles again, that same small yet genuine smile.

“Thank you, Miss Seymour,” she says.

It was usual for people to be happy about being praised, but the way Katherine had reacted was as if nobody had ever said anything positive about her before, and despite Jane’s endearment at Katherine’s joy, she finds a sense of worry running through her regardless.

Jane tries to push her worry aside and give Katherine a smile, as gentle and soft as she can make it, and the girl seems to respond with a small one in turn. 

---

Monday morning that worry returns. Katherine flies into the classroom, as usual, mere seconds before the bell, panting and red from running, but Jane notices something particularly worrying. 

As much as Katherine tries to hide it, Jane can fairly clearly see a purple bruise in the space above her ear, covered by hair as it was.

Jane is instantly on high alert. A bruise like that would be worrying enough, but a bruise combined with the skittish behaviour, the fact she barely eats and the lateness to class make Jane’s mind instantly jump to the worst. she had to be careful, though; the school had very strict policies with dealing with a potential abuse situation, and she had to stick to the safeguarding guidelines. One of the first things she had to do (and Jane hopes she was already on her way to doing it) was to create a safe environment for Katherine, somewhere where she might be comfortable confiding in Jane if there was a problem.

Katherine doesn’t look up the entire time Jane introduces the lesson, even when Jane crosses her desk to ask if she had the book. 

She simply shakes her head.

Jane has tucked a note in the cover of the copy of ‘Macbeth’ she had picked up second-hand for Katherine, which she needs to subtly give her. 

“Well what’s this?” Jane asks quietly, bending down as if picking the book off the floor.

Katherine doesn’t really react, and Jane gives her the credit for having the book.

Katherine sees the note peeking out and decides to read it - it can’t hurt worse than what happened this weekend, she decides. 

“I hope you are alright,” the note says, in Jane’s neat print. “You can talk to me about anything, Kat.” After the last word there’s a tiny ink blot, looking like an extra few scratches of pen on paper, but her imagination sees a heart, just for a moment.

Katherine stares down at the note, not really listening to her classmate reading out the first part of the book as her mind whirs with thought. Part of her wants nothing more than to tell Jane, but there was no promise that she wouldn’t react like any other adult she’d tried to tell. Her hands shake slightly as she clutches the note, so much so that she accidentally tears part of it.

Jane’s heart aches as she watches Katherine shake and tremble through the class period. By the time class is over, the kind note Jane had written is in shreds and Katherine is a sickly whitish-green. 

As soon as the bell rings, she runs out as calmly as possible, and it hurts Jane. Why, she wasn’t quite sure. It was as if Katherine had found a tiny space and and welcomed herself into Jane’s heart. 

When lunch comes, Jane holds out a shriveled hope that Katherine will return and see her. But ten minutes in, there’s no Katherine. 

Fifteen minutes in, however, she hears soft footsteps and looks up.

Katherine is standing in the doorway, trembling, cheeks tear-stained and red. 

She stands and doesn’t say anything, the only movement being rapid breathing and shaking shoulders.

“Katherine...” Jane says softly, trying not to scare her away. “Katherine, are you okay?”

Katherine stays stock-still for several more moments before she gives the tiniest head shake and a fresh wave of tears pour down her face. Jane reaches out and almost wraps the girl in a hug before she remembers that Katherine might not like a near-stranger hugging her. Instead she puts her hands on Katherine’s shoulders and steers her gently into the classroom, leading her over to a chair and sitting her down. She takes a box of tissues from the drawer in her desk and hands a few to Katherine who clutches them tightly in her hands.

Katherine hates herself for sitting there, for accepting the tissues, for letting herself be so vulnerable in front of a teacher who probably wouldn’t react any differently than other adult in her life. 

But something in her longs for someone like Jane, a kind woman who may, just maybe, help. 

Jane crouches down next to her chair, laying a very gentle hand on Katherine’s forearm and looking up at her tear-stained face. 

“What’s going on, Katherine?” she asks quietly. “If you want to tell me, love, I promise I'll help the best I can.”

Katherine sniffles, trying to keep herself together long enough to get her words out.

“I, um...” She wipes her face with the back of her hand before remembering she was holding a tissue. “I just... didn’t have a very good weekend.”

She doesn’t know how to start to explain everything that happened, doesn’t know if Jane will listen for long enough, but Jane doesn’t dismiss her straight away. Instead she speaks, very softly.

“Would you like to talk about it, Katherine?”

Katherine shakes her head - talking about it makes it real. Talking about it makes it her fault. Talking about it means it’s going to continue to happen.

Jane sees the fear gathering in Katherine’s eyes, heavy and cold. “I won’t push you,” she says reassuringly, “But if you want to talk, I'll always be right here.”

Jane looks over to one of the shelves on the side of the room, where a stack of notebook paper and a cup of pens sat. Jane stands up and slowly crosses the room, making sure Katherine can see she isn’t abandoning her.

She sets a sheet of paper and a pen gently down in front of her. “Or you can write about it,” she offers in that same gentle tone. “I won’t share it with anyone, Katherine. Or you can simply put it in the shredder if you’d rather.” Jane dips her head to catch Katherine’s teary eyes. “Anything that would help you feel better, I'll help you with, love.”

Katherine doesn’t say anything, but she suddenly picks up the pen. Jane watches as she slowly brings the pen to the paper and starts to write. Her writing is shaky and messy, a far cry from the normally neat writing Jane had seen in the book review and worksheets Katherine had handed in.

Her writing gets faster and faster and the tears start dripping down her face again, leaving tear stains on the paper. Jane doesn’t dare speak, not when Katherine seems to finally be letting everything out.

Jane watches, nearly hypnotized, as Katherine flies through the paper. She doesn’t hesitate to give her another few sheets, and Katherine doesn’t even look up before starting a second page. 

Jane sits behind her desk and watches. 

Finally, with a few minutes left in the lunch period, Katherine sets the pen down, a broken sob cracking out of her throat and taking Jane by surprise. She hesitantly approaches her student. 

“I'm proud of you, Katherine,” she says softly, kneeling down beside her. Her words are warm, Katherine finds, a gentle and nearly maternal cadence that makes some part of her feel safe. “I can imagine that was hard.” 

Katherine stands up on shaky legs to follow Jane. She looks her teacher in the eyes for several long moments before lunging forward, craving the warmth she hoped would come from a hug, burying her face in Jane’s shoulder as tears begin to fall again.

Jane is startled at the sudden movement, but when she realises what’s happening she hugs Katherine back, letting Katherine sob into her cardigan shoulder.

“I'm so proud of you,” she says again, voice as soft as she can make it. “You’re such a brave girl.”

Katherine keeps sobbing, past the point of caring that her teacher is witnessing her break down like this.

“Such a brave girl,” she murmurs again. Katherine doesn’t feel brave, not at all, she feels weak. Needy. A burden. All the things her father always tell her she is...before he starts to-

Jane gasps as Katherine starts to tremble, dropping to the floor. Her eyes are blown wide, yet unseeing, and Jane knows immediately that she’s having some sort of panic attack.

Jane crouches down next to Katherine, directly in her eye line.

“Katherine?” She asks, voice quiet but clear. “Katherine, can you hear me?”

There’s no response, Katherine’s brain too overwhelmed by the situation to focus on anything. She does vaguely have the sense of a kind voice talking to her.

Both of Katherine’s hands are flat on the floor in front of her as she tries to calm down, but she just can’t.

Jane, in a move braver than she thought possible, reaches out and brushes her fingertips across Katherine’s wrist, then down to cover her hand very lightly.

The soothing, almost maternal touch filters it’s way into Katherine’s mind, and she takes a shuddering breath, a painful sounding wheeze caught in her chest.

“Katherine,” Jane tries again. “can you focus on my voice?”

The words reach Katherine this time and she desperately tries to cling to them, tries to put all her energy into listening to her teacher instead of falling into panic.

Jane sees something shift in Katherine’s posture as her head quirks to the side slightly to listen. “it’s just me, Katherine. it’s Miss Seymour.” Jane can tell Katherine is listening, searching for words to hold onto, so she keeps talking. “It’s Miss Seymour, your English teacher. yeah? we’re reading Macbeth, and you said you liked Shakespeare.” She takes Katherine’s hand properly. “if you can hear me, love, squeeze my hand.”

There’s a moment of still, then Katherine gives Jane’s hand the tiniest squeeze. Jane almost lets out a sigh of relief, but instead she pushes on.

“That’s so good, Katherine, well done. I'm going to help you, so you just focus on me, okay?”

Katherine squeezes her hand again, slightly firmer this time.

“You’re doing so well, Katherine,” Jane praises again. “Now, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath for me, is that okay?”

Katherine reaches into her mind, looking for any hint of calm and unafraid she can find. she clings to Jane’s hand for dear life, then somehow, as if her teacher’s words directly hit her brain and triggered her muscles of their own accord, she took a deep, shuddering breath, eyes flying open and darting around before falling on her teacher, sitting on the floor in front of her.

“M-Miss Seymour?” she croaks out, voice raspy and heavy. She did know who she had been with, but it almost seemed too hazy to be real, that someone actually stayed with her during an attack.

“Yes, Katherine,” Jane says, rubbing gentle circles on the back of Katherine’s hand with her thumb. “I'm here.”

Katherine coughs, chest still tight with anxiety, and Jane keeps her face and voice gentle.

“Another breath, Katherine, you’re doing so well.”

Katherine follows the instructions, taking another inhale and slow exhale, eyes focused on the soft, kind smile Jane was giving her.

“Thank you,” Katherine chokes out. “For staying with me.”

Jane holds her soft smile and squeezes her hand. “Of course, love,” she murmurs. “I wouldn’t abandon a student,” she sees Katherine’s face fall slightly, so she smiles just a little brighter. “Especially my star student.”

Katherine gives a shaky smile and wipes at her eyes with her free hand. “No one has ever stayed with me,” she mumbles.

“Has this happened before, Katherine?” Jane asks softly. Katherine stiffens, so Jane rubs a few more soft circles and looks at her sympathetically. “You can talk to me about it, Katherine, because I deal with it too, sometimes.”

Katherine looks up at her, surprise in her expression. “Really?”

“Really,” Jane nods. “So there’s not going to be any judgement from me.”

Katherine looks back down at her hands, seemingly thinking everything through.

“This happens sometimes,” Katherine says quietly. “but this is the first time it’s happened in front of a teacher.” Her cheeks tinge pink as she speaks and her offers an awkward half-smile, although no humour reaches her eyes.

“Well,” Jane offers, trying to catch Katherine’s eyes, “I'm glad I was able to help you through it.” she lowers her voice a hair, giving Katherine’s hand another gentle squeeze. “And I'm so proud of you for being so open, I know this couldn’t have been easy for you to do.”

She can tell Katherine doesn’t believe her words, doesn’t know how proud Jane really is. So she changes the subject. “What do you have next period?”

“Gym,” Katherine says with a slightly shuddering laugh. 

Jane smiles back at her. “Would you like me to write your teacher a note, so you can stay in this classroom next period?”

“Would that be okay?” Katherine asks, voice suddenly shy, and Jane gives her a reassuring smile.

“Of course. I always think it’s better to take some time after something like this.”

“You won’t say why, will you?” Katherine asks suddenly, eyes wide with panic.

“Of course not,” Jane reassures. “I'll tell your teacher- who do you have for gym?”

“Miss Lyons,” Katherine says, and Jane takes a piece of paper from her desk.

“I'll tell Miss Lyons that you aren’t feeling well.”

Jane can see the fear begin to melt out of Katherine’s eyes, and it warms her heart. 

“Thank you, Miss Seymour,” Katherine whispers as she makes her way to her feet, knees trembling and heart incredibly conflicted. She’s thankful, she is, for having Miss Seymour to help her through, and God would it be so easy to tell her everything, the whole story, let her help. 

But she can’t, she can’t tell Miss Seymour.

She looks back to her teacher, that same patient, gentle, caring smile on her face, and Katherine’s resolve feels suddenly very soft. 

 She lunges forward again, holding her teacher as if she might get pulled away at any time. “Thank you,” she mumbles into her shoulder.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Jane says gently. She lets Katherine cling to her for a few moments until the girl pulls back, the tiniest of genuine smiles on her face.

“Let me just run this letter to Miss Lyons,” Jane says, scribbling down a quick note. “I'll be right back.” Jane gives her one more kind smile before disappearing out of the door.

Katherine sits down on a chair next to the desk as she finally manages to think through everything that happened. Her gaze lands on the several pages of messy handwriting she’d scrawled earlier.

She stares at it for several long moments. The whole story, right there. Katherine snatches the papers off the desk and holds them tightly. Before she knows what she’s doing, she opens a drawer in Jane’s desk and shoved the papers, messily folded, into Jane’s purse. 

It’s not fair, she knows, to put this on Jane. but she needs it. Jane is the only adult who’d ever stood by her. And maybe, just maybe, she’d continue to stand by Katherine. 

She’s still hovering near her desk when Jane enters again, looking at her with a sympathetic expression. 

Without a word, Jane crosses the room and pulls that same jar out of her drawer just as the bell rang. 

“Take a sweet, love,” she murmurs, “and go make yourself comfortable at a desk in the back.”

Katherine settles herself at the back of the room as Jane’s next class, the final year English students, slowly file in. If they thought the presence of a younger student in the room was strange, nobody comments on it.

Jane teaches the lesson as normal, glancing at Katherine every so often to check in on her. The girl is engrossed in whatever she’s writing; Jane assumes it’s homework, but whatever it is Katherine’s hand is flying across the page.

When the bell rang to end class, the students filed out, eagerly ready to leave, but Jane knew Katherine still had another class.

But she hasn’t budged. 

“Katherine?” she calls softly. “are you feeling better, love?”

The girl nods, though she continues writing furiously. 

“I don’t want to make you have to leave, but I think you should go to your last class.”

Katherine sets her pen down and stands up, gathering the sheets and her backpack, shyly looking to Jane. 

“You’re welcome to come back after your last class, if you wish to finish.” Jane’s subtle ulterior message was, ‘if you don’t want to go home,’ and she wonders if Katherine catches it. 

Katherine, however, shakes her head violently. “I should go home after school,” she says quickly. Then she takes a breath, “but thank you for everything, Miss Seymour.” She tucks hair behind her ear, looking down at her shoes. a shy blush rises in her cheeks. 

Jane gives her a soft smile. “It’s okay, Katherine. And know that I'd do it again in a heartbeat.”

Katherine gives her a small yet genuine smile, and when she leaves she offers Jane a tiny wave, which Jane returns.

When Jane’s final class of the day finishes she packs up the papers she was taking home to mark, then heads out to her car in the staff parking area. She reaches into her purse to grab her keys, but at the top of her bag she feels a bunch of paper that definitely hadn’t been in there earlier.

She pulls out several sheets of notebook paper, slightly crumpled, but written in a very familiar blue handwriting. 

This was Katherine’s essay, the narrative she’d written just before having her breakdown. 

Curiosity immediately crawls through Jane, and she begins to read. 

Her eyes fill with tears quickly, the papers outlining the passing of her mother when Katherine was only five, of horrid things her father said, and even worse things her father did.

She’s unable to function for several minutes after finishing it, sympathy and heartache for Katherine swirling in her system. 

Jane makes a vow, right then and there, that she would keep Katherine safe. To make sure she knows that nothing her father said was true. That she had so much worth.

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

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[artemisegeria]

The Picture of the Mind Revives Again (2/?)

Title: The Picture of the Mind Revives Again (2/?)

Rating: T

Word count: 2025

Warnings: None

Summary: Sequel to “A Formula, A Phrase Remains.” Title is from “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey” by William Wordsworth.

Vision has gone missing after Shuri, Bruce, and Helen revived him. Now they must tell Wanda what they did without her knowledge.

 Wanda was furious.

She was sitting in the cockpit of the Quinjet with Carol. She was forcefully reminded of the first time she’d flown with Carol to Wakanda. Except that time, she was still at the beginning of her grieving process and she didn’t know Carol at all. Now Wanda could not speak to her because Carol was one of her best friends and she had hidden this from her. They had sat in silence for a few hours.

Carol finally made an attempt to speak to her. “I understand why you’re giving me the silent treatment, but we all meant well.”

“I would think you would understand how little good intentions mean in a case like this.” Wanda knew this wasn’t the same as Carol’s situation with the Kree, but her hurt and confusion made her want to lash out.

“Look, Wanda, I’m sorry, but they practically begged me to stay quiet about this. It made sense to me when they explained what they were trying to do. They had good reason to believe something might go wrong.”

“Maybe I could have helped if they had told me.” She could have at least been there to ease Vision’s confusion. Maybe seeing her first thing would have helped him.

“Maybe, but we can’t go back in time.” Wanda and Carol both winced at Carol’s accidental wording. That had been a bone of contention before Steve returned the Stones to their proper places. Why couldn’t they just go back in time to fix everything? It had taken hours to convince those that had not lived through the five years between the Snaps that such a solution was not possible. “I’ll get you there as soon as possible.” Wanda nodded and fell silent.

Shuri, Bruce, and Helen met them when they landed. Some of Wanda’s anger had faded, but she could feel it simmering just beneath the surface. Still, they had worked for over a year to bring back the love of her life. That deserved some consideration.

Carol left them to return to her post in New York. Wanda thanked her for flying her there. She needed some time to get over her sense of betrayal, but perhaps she had overreacted a bit. Carol gave them a final jaunty wave and lifted off.

***

Wanda stood in the middle of Shuri’s lab. Their search had still not revealed any trace of Vision. The cameras recording the process of his revival showed him standing up and leaning against a wall before fading outside. Wanda ached to see the clear distress and confusion on his face, but it did not explain why he just left. Unless he thought the battle in Wakanda was still ongoing. But a search of the forest outside the city had not unearthed any clues either. Even if he was confused, he should soon realize that things had changed.

“How long has he been missing?”

“As long as it took you to get here.” Hours. That means he had been gone for hours. What if something was wrong with the solution that Shuri developed? What if he was injured and in pain?

“Please go over what happened one more time.” Wanda needed to understand everything.

Shuri answered, “We started the upload of his consciousness once his body was fully repaired. The scan showed that it had several hours left before the process was complete, so we felt that it was safe to leave him when we were called away for a time. When we returned, he was gone. The Dora who was stationed outside the lab did not hear anything when he woke up.”

“I know what ‘lost’ means, thank you,” Wanda snapped. “What I mean is how is that possible? You told me that you buried him. You said you had tried everything you could and failed. You said Stark’s notes had not provided the answers.”

“I lied. I am sorry, Wanda, but we were not sure that we would succeed. Bruce, Helen, and I agreed that this was the best way to proceed, but it was my idea at first. Do not blame them.”

“Fine. Just go on, please.” She had far more important things to worry about right now.

“When we returned, the scan from the Cradle indicated that his brain was operational, but he was nowhere to be found. We have been searching for him since that point.”

“How far could he have gone? He is a little recognizable.” Wanda tried to control her anger and panic. She should be thanking Shuri for doing what she had come to believe was impossible. Instead, all she could see was Vision scared and confused somewhere in Wakanda.

“We do not know. None of the palace guards saw him, and we have not heard of any sightings in the city. We have sent people outside to the battlefield and the forest as well.”

Wanda ran her hands through her hair, heedless of how she was messing it up. “I don’t understand why he hasn’t tried reaching out to someone.” Her, why he didn’t contact her.

“I do not know, but we will continue searching, Wanda. We won’t stop until we have him back and can determine what he needs.”

“I’m going to the forest to take another look.” She thought it would be the most likely place Vision would go if he were trying to help with the battle that he must think was still ongoing. No one tried to stop her. Wanda passed into the denser part of the forest. After some minutes of calling for Vision, hoping against hope that he would just descend in front of her, she was overcome by all the emotions she had gone through during the last few hours. From shock to hope to rage to joy to confusion. She let herself sob for a time, but then she moved on.

She explored the forest for several hours longer before giving up. She was wrung out and exhausted. When she made her way back to Shuri’s lab, she noted that everyone was struggling to stay awake while they pored over models and security footage. Wanda’s heart softened and her anger did not re-emerge. They were working themselves to death for Vision’s sake. She finally suggested that they all go to bed and get a fresh start in the morning.

Okoye led her to a guest bedroom. Wanda collapsed without even bothering to undress, only peeling off her boots.

***

When they recongregated in the lab the next day, Okoye reported that some of the Dora Milaje had taken shifts exploring throughout the night, but they had not been successful. There was no trace of him. Neither had Shuri’s search of the security footage revealed anything.

Wanda could not imagine how Vision could disappear so utterly or why he wouldn’t have tried to contact her by now unless something was terribly wrong. By lunchtime, they still had not come up with a good solution. Wanda left the others after swallowing down a few quick bites.

She explored the palace as she had not been able to do the first time she was here. She thought that Vision would love the artwork and the architecture. Thinking of him renewed her determination to find him. As Wanda was pacing the halls, trying to think of where to search for Vision next, her phone buzzed with a new text alert. Oddly enough, it did not show a sending number. It only said, “Check your email, please.”

Wanda frowned. She had an official Avengers email account, as everyone else on the team did, but she hardly ever looked at it. The messages she received there ranged from fan mail to questionable requests to death threats that were automatically flagged by the renewed SHIELD to gauge their seriousness. This sounded like a potential scheme to get by the account’s safeguards, polite wording or no. But something told her to follow the instructions regardless.

When she pulled up her email, the first message she saw also had no subject line and no sender. She opened it. She almost expected to have to explain why she opened such a message without showing it to the IT people first, but nothing happened. Somewhat relieved, she scrolled down and began to read.

My dearest Wanda,

I apologize that my abrupt departure from Princess Shuri’s lab caused you distress. I am well. I was not thinking very clearly when I returned to consciousness. My only thought was to rejoin the battle, only to find that the last battle ended over a year ago, and the one I was trying to rejoin over six years ago.

There was so much information to absorb about the last six years. I hid in the forest on the outskirts of the city and scanned what I could from the internet. I am still adjusting to the absence of the Mind Stone, though Shuri’s replacement seems to have restored most of my powerset.

I feel that I must be on my own for a time. I worried that if I spoke to you again, I would not be able to leave you. Please forgive me for my selfishness. I was never able to truly become myself during the first three years of my life. I was so focused on the team and keeping you safe, which I do not regret for a moment, that I forgot to think of what I truly wanted from the life that I was granted. I feel that now is the time to do so.

I have seen your pictures throughout my time alone. It fills me with more joy than I can express that you have built such a strong life for yourself and rejoined the team. I hope that you will welcome me back to become part of it again after I have completed my journey.

If you wish to contact me, you may reply to this message at any time. It will reach me. If you need me for any reason, I will be there.

All my love,

Vision

Wanda sank back against the wall for a moment. She almost thought it was someone’s idea of a sick joke, but it sounded so like him. And it was all of a piece with Shuri’s explanation of what happened immediately before Vision was found missing.

She let the tears stream down her face as she read the message several more times. Part of her wanted to be selfish and beg him to come back immediately. But when she thought about it a little longer, she realized that she could not deny him this chance. It was exactly what she had wished for when she was saying goodbye. Moreover, Wanda’s own time on the run, though undertaken under the worst circumstances, had granted her more strength than any other period in her life, aside from the previous year. She had learned greater control and confidence that endured to this day.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda started to compose her reply.

Vizh,

You’ve got to be more careful how you word your letters. I need you always.

But I understand why you have to do this. Take as long as long as you need, and I’ll wait for you.

Let me know if you have any questions.

Wanda paused at this point. Her message was a paltry sample of what she really wanted to tell Vision, but she thought if she started writing out all her thoughts, she would never stop. The lines of communication were at least open. They could contact each other if need be.

She considered how to sign off. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but it didn’t feel right to do so by email. They needed to have a real conversation. He needed to hear her voice to believe that she wasn’t simply returning the sentiment because he had said it first.

She settled on:

I’m so happy you’re back.

Wanda

It wasn’t enough, but there would be time to say more later. She rose to go find Shuri and T’challa and get them to call off the search.

  A/N: In the next chapter, Vision does some more exploring.

A word of warning, this was the last of the chapters that I’ve had partially or mostly written for a while. So the next chapter will definitely take longer than my last few updates, but hopefully sooner than two months.

[coolrandomness]

My life with ADD

Let me start this off with something I read that I wish I could site a reference on, but it was so long ago that I don't have one. In order for our brains to make long-term memorial, or eyes have to be focused on what's in front of them. With that being said, I don't remember a lot of details about my childhood up until I was in high school. A lot of my memories come from stories I was told and the few times I was actually focused enough on to make a lasting memory. This is so bad that for most of my life I was convinced that my parents never had "the talk" with me until a was an adult and talked to my mom about it and she assured my that she talked to me and my sister at the same time. I just didn't (and honestly still don't) remember any of it.

To continue this, I can't tell you what age I was when I went on ADD medication or what it was, other than I don't think it was Ritalin but who knows I could be wrong, but that after that doctor appointment I started having my own memories of my life. Now, not all of them are perfect, in fact if my childhood best friend tells me we did something that I don't remember I will believe her over my own failed memories, but a lot of my life went from one big blur to less blur with a little bit of clarity thrown in and my brain slowing down enough for me to actually keep up with it. That was also when I found my first coping mechanism in music.

I went to a small privet school that heavily relied on self motivation, of which I had/barely have any of. I found out that the work I couldn't do in a 7 hour day stuck at one desk in a quiet classroom, I could do in my bedroom in 2 hours if I had some music on to help distract my brain a little. I started sneaking my mp3 player (yes I'm that old), into school and I was able to get most of my work done there instead of having to bring most of it all home.

My biggest breakthrough was when my family moved my sophomore year and I was aloud to go to a public school for the first time in my life. I went from having to try to be self motivated for everything to having a dedicated teacher for each subject having more concrete deadlines to meet. I was also able to get up and move every 45 minutes instead of having to be at the same desk all day every day and that was a huge deal for me. Plus being able to take an elective that I chose instead of only taking what was required was a huge help for me and gave me something to look forward to every day. I know that a lot of people high school was terrible, and don't get me wrong it wasn't a walk in the park for me, but it was one of the best things that could have happened for me. I had some amazing teachers who saw the potential that I honestly didn't even see in myself and pushed me to see with I was capable of. I was able to find who I really was without feeling like I had to fit in some little box and as far as my ADD goes, it's helped me get off of my meds.

I want to say it was half way through my sophomore year, but it might have been a little later, I was able to stop taking my meds. My parents saw the positive changes in me and they let me slowly stop taking my ADD medication. I know that I am extremely lucky to have the parents that I do and that they advocated for me and my health instead of seeing a "problem" and just replying on medication to "fix" me. When they saw that I didn't really need it anymore they monitored me slowly going off of it instead of just making me stay on it or letting me try to quit cold turkey.

I haven't taken any kind of meds for my ADD since I was in high school. I'm one of the ones who "grew out of it." Now I put that in quotes because I don't want it to sound like I don't still struggle with ADD, because I do, I personally have just found ways to deal with it that it doesn't effect me like it did when I was a kid. I still have a hard time focusing and have to make a conscious effort to pay attention to conversations and things happening around me. I will go from being hipper focused on a hobby to not touching it for months at a time. If I sit down to do anything that requires my attention I have music playing in the background just so I'm not sitting in silence because I know my brain will be distracted by every tiny sound that is made around me. I will go off on a million different tangents while trying to tell a story just to explain every bit of background history just to get lost in my own thought process and forget what the original point was. I have to have something to fidget with or chew on at all times or I will bite my nails, sometimes until they are infected, just to keep myself busy. My emotions hit me very hard, I can't just lighting feel something. I'm either all in or all out, there's not really a middle ground for me and because of that I know that I'm at risk for depression so I have to work very hard to keep myself from spiraling into that. I have nights that I just can't sleep. Sometimes it's my own fault and I drank something with to much caffeine to late in the day when I shouldn't have and sometimes it's simply because my mind is going a million miles a minute or won't let me get rest, much like tonight. I have little ticks that help me release pent up energy that I hid so well that I had to point them out to my best friends. I found enough ways to deal with my ADD that even the person I work with the closest with thought I was kidding with I said I had ADD and had to hear it from my mom (who I also work with) before she realized it wasn't just a joke.

Having ADD isn't something that I say jokingly or lightly because on top of all of this, I hate when people use it as an exuse for not being able to to something or to unnecessarily medicate a child. Yes there are some kids that need it. I was absolutely one of them, but sometimes parents need to realize that they're kids are just being kids. My honest goal out of this isn't for pity or for someone to focus on that last line (if anyone even made it this far) and think I'm suddenly shaming parents, because that's not my goal. My goal was to put my personal story out there and to show that there are amazing parents out there like mine who are trying to advocate for their children to help them have a childhood that they will love and remember. My hope is that every child who has to be on ADD meds will grow out of it, but I know that's not realistic. Some people will never find all the coping mechanisms that work for them like I did and be able to stop medication, and that's ok. As long as they are able to live their best life, that's all I care about.

I know this is not full of scientific research and statistics to back up all I'm saying, just know that it all came from the heart, and a sleepless night where my brain wouldn't let me sleep and was just like "hey, you should tell this to all of the internet" (lol). I'm not sure that this will even help anyone, but if it even gives one person clarity about what having ADD is like, then it's worth it. Thank you to anyone who actually read this all the way to the end, honestly I'm not sure if I have enough attention span to have stuck this out myself.

[crashdevlin]

To Hell and Back 2- Assignment

To Hell and Back Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version). This is an AU of my story ‘Marion’ and is just as epic as that series. 

Summary: Marion goes on a mission for her boss.

Pairing(s): Crowley x Marion-ish

Word Count: 3148

Chapter Warnings: smoking, Dean’s isn’t the best brother, angst, mentions of child abuse, demon deals

Marion put the key in the door and shuffled into the motel room, dropping the bag at the end of the bed and heading for the bathroom as she always did when she first entered a motel room. She'd insisted on being given her own room when she was 17. It was partly for safety, since the monsters always seemed to find John and the boys' room, and partly for feminine privacy, and partly for him.

"What do you want, Crowley?" She asked, walking out of the bathroom and dropping to the bed.

"Whatever happened to your manners? I know I taught you better than that." A deep, gravelly accent came from the chair next to the television.

"Yeah, but then my daddy came in and fucked it all up." She pulled the knot out of her bootlaces and toed her boots off. "The question hasn't changed, Crowley."

"You know, it's days like this I regret pulling you outta the way of that Chevy." He said, standing and adjusting his suit jacket.

"Yeah." Marion threw her boots at the corner of the room and turned her eyes on the demon. "But then you remember that you came here for a reason and you give me my damn assignment."

Crowley handed her a small piece of paper. "Name's Devon McIntyre. He sold it fer money, so you can do this one without the guilt."

"Fine." She snatched the paper and pocketed it. "You can go, now."

"You know, there was a time when you enjoyed my company. What happened?"

She looked away from him. "I figured out who you really are and what you do to the people I mark."

"They do it to themselves. They know what they're signing up for." He tried to catch her eyes, but she just let her dyed brunette hair hang in a protective curtain in front of her face, so he just rolled his eyes. "I have never lied to anyone about what Hell has in store for them. And I told you what I was back when you were too young and dumb to hate me for it."

She tucked her hair behind her ear and glared at him. "I'm a hunter, you ass! A demon killed my mother!"

"And a demon saved you!" Crowley shouted. "So many times that I would be bisected if the boys downstairs knew about it." He stepped forward. "I pulled you out of the path of that truck when you were four. I ripped the head off that vampire when you were twelve. I'm the one who risked my entire reputation to claim a damn hunter's daughter so that no other demons would lay a bloody pinkie on you, and I tried to convince you to back off when you insisted on helping me when you were sixteen."

He gave a huffing breath. "You wanna back out now? Sorry, it doesn't work that way, Lilith has you on contract sealed with a sodding kiss and as long as she's around, you work for us! Not my fault, you moody little-" Crowley took a deep breath and sighed, letting his anger go. "Just go mark the wealthy little arsehole so my dogs can find him."

Marion nodded, looking away again. "We're on a hunt. It may be a few days." She pulled the paper out of her pocket and set it on the side table.

If she'd been looking at him she would've seen him open his mouth like he'd wanted to say something else, but he just nodded and disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion was halfway through her fourth cigarette in a chain when her phone went off. She grabbed it off the side table and flipped it open. "It's a ghost." Dean gave no greeting. "A woman named Constance Welch threw herself off the bridge where we stopped earlier. We're gonna head down there, later, see if we can draw her out."

"Okay. Lemme know how it goes. How you lookin' for salt rounds?"

"We're good." There was a moment of silence. "You want in on this?" His tone told her he wanted her to say 'no'.

"No. You get to gank ghosts with me all the time. Spend some time with Sammy. Who knows when you'll have an opportunity for Sam bonding again?"

"Yeah. Sounds good. We'll call."

"Right." Marion said, disbelieving as she flipped her phone closed. She ran her hand down her face and sighed, pulling her bag off the ground and dropping it to the bed. She pulled out her slinky red dress and her strappy black heels from the very bottom of her duffel and slipped them onto her body. After pulling her hair into a messy up-do and pasting her face with bright red lipstick and brown eye shadow, she walked out of her motel room and headed to a luxury car with a demon in the driver's seat. The door opened without being touched and she slipped into the back next to Crowley, whose eyes slid down her profile without hesitation. "If you mention how well I fill out this dress, I will stab you in the eye with my branding iron." She didn't look his way as she spoke, but noticed his acceptance of her terms.

He nodded and signaled for the driver to head toward their destination. The Lincoln was silent through the entire ride, Marion biting the inside of her lip and thinking back to simpler times as they drove. When they pulled up in front of the mansion, she easily slipped out and up to the door and rang the bell. She smiled for the camera near the buzzer. "Who are you?" A voice came through the speaker.

"I'm a gift... from Mr. Crowley." She responded, sweetly, but inside she was grimacing at the sentence.

The door opened, just slightly, to reveal an attractive, well-dressed brunette man, eyeing her warily. "Crowley?"

"Mr. Crowley would like me to remind you that he kept his end of the deal. He made you wealthy and thus appealing to women. May I?" She pushed past him into the mansion, across the lines of the Devil's Trap painted on the floor by the door. "Mr. Crowley would also like me to tell you that he's aware that you are planning to run from him, that you think you can use the resources he awarded you to hide from him. He wants me to tell you that he didn't get to be King of the Crossroads by letting greedy little pissants squirm out of their contracts, and you won't be the first, or last, to try." She said, before grabbing his shirt and jabbing her branding iron into his left bicep. She let him go and stepped back to allow him to examine the burn mark.

"What the fuck was that?!"

“A homing beacon for Crowley’s hounds. No matter where you run, they’ll find you. Thanks for playing.” She said, starting to go. Devon grabbed her hand and tried to pull her back. She twisted, ax-kicked him in the head and grabbed his throat. “You have a week, you miserable prick. You have a week to do something worthwhile. Do not make me cut out all that potential by killing you early.” She threatened, tossing him to the ground and walking out of the Devil’s Trap on the way out.

“You aren’t a demon?”

“No. But I’m sure he’ll turn me into one, eventually.” She said, before shutting the door on him.

“You know that’s not going to happen.” Crowley said, opening the car door for her.

“What?”

“That’s not your deal. You didn’t sign away your soul, you signed away your work. Just like a real job, it only seems like it’s crushing your soul.” Crowley said, as the car pulled away from the mansion.

“I’m helping demons, Crowley. Helping you damn souls to unbelievable torment. That doesn’t sound like something that’s gonna get me into Heaven.”

“Well, there’s always the Void.”

“Yeah. Being a ghost. That sounds peachy.” She said, sarcastically.

“Look, you knew. You asked for this. I begged you not to kiss me, but you thought you knew what you were doing.”

“I was sixteen!” She exclaimed. “I just wanted my father to stop hitting me.”

“And it worked, right? He hasn’t hit you in a decade.” Crowley reasoned, trying to block out the thought that he’d have already taken her to Hell, if she’d signed a normal contract.

“It doesn’t change it, Crowley. It doesn’t change the fact that I traded my well-being for… this. I thought I knew what I was doing and I thought I was grown enough to make that decision, but I wasn’t.”

There was silence in the car for half an hour as she looked out the window. “Well, if you do end up in Hell, Marion, I’ll make sure they go easy on you. That’s the best I got. See you next time.” Crowley said as they pulled into the motel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley stared out the window of his mansion, lost in thought. He knew what was being planned for the Winchesters, what Lilith and Azazel were going to do to bring Lucifer home. He felt almost bad for Marion. He'd known her since she was a wee thing and if there were a Winchester who deserved to be kept out of all the bullshit Hell had planned, it was Marion.

Sometimes he really did think he should have let her die when she was four. That way she never would have had to deal with Mary Winchester's death or the way John dealt with the pain of her demise. She never would have had to deal with demons and monsters, she never would have had to deal with Crowley, himself. Life would've been much sweeter for his Marion if she'd just died at four years old.

Crowley grimaced at the term. His Marion. It seemed like it might be an endearment, but it was the truth. She signed herself over to him, kissed her life away. He could keep her like a slave, but he chose not to. Ungrateful cunt.

He turned to demon lounging on his couch, wearing a short, well-dressed blonde lawyer as a vessel. "You. Go change your meat suit. I've got some tensions I need to relieve."

"Anything in particular, sir?"

Crowley sighed. "Tall, tan, bottle brunette, green eyes, and leather. Go more Roadhouse and less Mistress with it."

She smiled. "Yes sir." It took her half an hour to reappear, in a vessel that almost matched his request. "I could only find a blue-eyed one."

"It'll have to do." Crowley growled, twisting a hand into her hair and crashing his mouth into hers.

Two hours later, he looked down at the surrogate he'd taken his frustrations out on. Covered in bruises, bleeding cuts and cum, he could almost imagine this biker chick in her forties was Marion. The illusion was broken as soon as he thought about it, though, so he rolled away from her and snapped to replace his clothing. "Get your old meat suit back. She's good fer business. But... keep track of this one."

"Yes, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion was pulling her boots on the next morning when a knock came to her motel room door. She opened it and smiled tightly at Dean. "Dad had a room here, too. Figured out we're dealing with a Woman in White. He hasn't been here in a few days. You hungry?"

"Yeah, actually." She grabbed her black fleece jacket and walking out the door with him. She noticed the police presence right before Dean did. He looked over, saw the police car parked by the clerk's office who was talking to the deputies. When the clerk pointed at Dean and Marion, Dean pulled out his cell, calling Sam as the deputies started to approach them.

"Dude, five-oh. Take off." There was a second of silence. "Uh, they kinda spotted us. Go find Dad." Dean flipped the phone closed and turned to the deputies with a grin. "Problem, officers?"

"Did we do something?" Marion asked, innocently.

"Where's your partner?" The deputy asked, ignoring Marion.

"Partner? What, what partner?” Dean asked. Marion put on her best clueless face.

Deputy Jaffe, according to his name tag, glanced over his shoulder and jerked his thumb towards the motel room. Deputy Hein headed over there. Dean fidgeted. “So, fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?” Jaffe asked.

“My boobs.” Dean replied, with a smirk.

Marion rolled her eyes and put her hands behind her head as the cop slammed Dean into the hood. “The best thing you can do, stud, is keep your mouth closed. You obviously need a refresher on your ‘right to remain silent’.”

“Like I’m gonna take legal advice from a prostitute.” Dean snapped, thankfully catching on to her train of thought.

The cop turned her around and examined her. He seemed a bit skeptical about her status as a working girl. The jeans, boots and fleece jacket weren’t exactly street-walker clothes. “You don’t know each other?”

“Look, ask the clerk. Paid in cash. I was just looking for a place to bed down. I work from home… even when I don’t have a home, if you get my drift. I’m not saying I’m a sex worker, but… I’ve never met this guy before this morning. He was gonna buy me breakfast and we were gonna head back to my room.”

The deputy looked between the two of them, then pulled her handcuffs off. “It’s your lucky day. This guy is a much bigger fish than you. But if I find you soliciting in my town again, I’ll personally escort you downtown.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She said. She leaned over next to Dean, who was bent over the back of the cop car. “Better luck next time, handsome.” She whispered before walking off toward her room. Sam was sitting on her bed.

“How’d you manage?” He asked.

“I convinced them I was a whore. They let me go because they didn’t have any proof that I know Dean. This is one time I’m glad I stayed in the car.” She said, grabbing her bag off the floor and rifling through it. “So, where to?”

“Uh, Joseph Welch. He’s the husband of the woman in white. That’s where Dad would’ve gone.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for in here.” She threw her hands up and headed toward the window. She watched as the police car pulled away with Dean in the back. She pulled Dean’s keys out of her jacket pocket and nodded toward Sam.

“When did he hand over his keys?” Sam asked.

“I picked them off him when I said goodbye.” She said, heading out the door and into the parking lot.

Marion tossed the keys at Sam. “If I move the seat forward, Dean will kill me.” She said, getting in on the passenger side.

“You… you got really good at this stuff.” Sam said, sliding in behind the steering wheel.

“I was never bad at it, Sammy. I just didn’t have a lot of opportunity to show my skill, when you were around.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam pulled into the driveway of a house with an overgrown yard. Marion got out and walked up to the door in front of Sam. She knocked with a closed fist. An older man opened and looked out at them. “Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?” Sam spoke up.

“Yeah.” Joseph responded, walking out of his doorway and shutting the door behind him.

“Hi. We just need to ask you a few questions.” Marion said, with a smile.

“Have you seen this man?” Sam asked, handing Joseph a picture of John and the 2 boys. Marion, of course, was not in the picture.

“Yeah. He was a little older, but that’s him.” Joseph said, handing the photo back to Sam. “He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That’s right. We’re all working on a story together.” Sam replied, as they walked into the junk that was Joseph Welch’s front yard.

“Well, I don’t know what the hell kinda story you’re working on. The questions he asked me?”

“About your wife Constance?” Marion asked.

“He asked me where she was buried.”

"And where is that again?" Sam leaned over the shorter man as he spoke.

“What, I gotta go through this twice?”

“It’s fact-checking. If you don’t mind.” Marion said.

“In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.” Joseph answered.

“And, why did you move?” Sam asked.

“I’m not gonna live in the house where my children died.” Joseph responded.

Sam and Marion stopped walking. Joseph followed suit. “Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Sam asked.

“No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.”

“So, you had a happy marriage?”

Joseph hesitated before responding. Bingo. “Definitely.”

“Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time.” Sam said with a smile. Marion stood her ground while Joseph and Sam started walking in their separate directions. Sam waited a moment, then look back at Joseph. “Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?”

Joseph turned back around. “A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes ’Weeping Woman’?” Marion said. The man just stared.

“It’s a ghost story. Well, it’s more of a phenomenon, really.” Sam started to walk back to the man. “Um, they’re spirits. They’ve been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places. In Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women.” Sam stopped in front of Joseph Welch. “You understand. But all share the same story.”

“I don’t care much for nonsense.” Joseph said, starting to head toward his house again.

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.” Sam seemed to hit the right button because Joseph turned around. “Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So, now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.”

“You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!”

“You tell us.”

“I mean, maybe... maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!” Joseph’s face shook in anger and grief, then he turned away. Marion and Sam walked back to the Impala.

“Guess you got pretty good at this stuff, too.” Marion said.

“Thanks. Now, let’s spring the idiot and we can burn Constance’s bones and get back to Paolo Alto.” Sam said, pulling out his cell phone.

Supernatural Tag- @letsby

[notsoguiltykpop]

The Tenth Floor pt19

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader & Taehyung x Reader

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

Genre: Fluff, humor, probably some angst. Borderline crack at times

Warnings: Strong language, smut talked about/implied, some dark themes

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

Jungkook looked slightly ill when he left Yoongi’s office. When you raised an eyebrow in question, he shook his head and closed his eyes.

“How do you do it?” He asked, walking around to sit on your desk, crumpling the papers that you’d only just finished sorting.

“Do what?” You asked, swatting at him to get up. He moved with an apologetic glance, instead standing somewhat awkwardly beside you with his arms crossed. 

“Yell at him. The guy’s crazy, you know that right? But that never stops you from telling him off,” Jungkook explained, eyeing Yoongi’s door. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he kind of scares me.” 

You couldn’t help a slight laugh, despite your dismal mood. “Yoongi’s all talk, Jungkook,” You tried to smooth out the papers Jungkook crushed, and finally decided you’d just have to print out new ones. “He isn’t all that different from you, really. You both put up fronts to protect yourselves, neither of you are particularly organized, and you’re both a bit strange.”

“I don’t know whether or not to be offended by that,” Jungkook sighed, beginning to walk away from your desk backwards. 

You rolled your eyes, ready to get back to work in the hopes of keeping your mind off the fact that you didn’t have the money to pay off your car. 

Your phone buzzed with a text the moment you were alone, and you grabbed it faster than you usually would have. You still hadn’t heard from Jessica since the previous night, and you were worried that whatever progress the two of you might have made was lost. When you saw her name at the top of your phone, you didn’t even bother to read the preview, just tapped on it. 

“You still have my dress.” Was the five word text you received.

Biting back disappointment, you told yourself that this was still a good sign. Jessica had finally texted you something, and that had to count. 

“Hard at work, I see,” A teasing voice interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Changkyun standing in front of your desk with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. 

You blinked at him, trying to remember what he was doing there. How you’d forgotten about the previous nights conversation was a mystery even to yourself, but it came back to you as you shoved your phone out of sight. 

“Changkyun, how are you this morning?” You asked, forcing a smile. It wasn’t that you minded seeing him so much as were trying to think of a way to tell Yoongi that you’d completely forgotten to mention that you set up an appointment for him with the shareholder he was doing his best to avoid. 

“Decent,” He shrugged. “Is Yoongi in his office?”

You hesitated for a moment. “He is, but he was in the middle of something important. Let me go tell him you’re here.”

You didn’t wait for a response, hopping up and hurrying into his office. Yoongi was not doing anything that looked important at all--in fact, he appeared to be sleeping. He was leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk and one arm flung over his eyes. 

“Yoongi?” You tried.

“Normal secretaries use the intercom system,” He sighed. “I’m really starting to hate how you just barge in here whenever you feel like it.” 

“Then I guess normal secretaries,” You said, folding your arms. “Don’t need to talk to you in private before sending people in.” 

Yoongi groaned, sitting up and blinking blearily at you. “Who is it this time?”

“Im Changkyun,” You figured there was no use beating around the bush, he’d find out sooner or later, and it would be better for him to get mad at you instead of the shareholder. 

“Tell him to go away.” Yoongi glared at you. “I’m not in the mood to deal with that lunatic.”

“I’ll tell him to come in,” You said anyway, and were about to step out when Yoongi stood up and walked over to face you.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves,” He said. 

“So fire me,” You shrugged. At this point, you didn’t feel like you had anything to lose. 

Yoongi said nothing to that, instead pretending you hadn’t said anything and making his way over to the window. You made a face at his turned back; he was so over-dramatic. 

“Send him in,” Yoongi muttered reluctantly. “But if he stays for more than an hour, make up some excuse to get me out of here.” 

After Changkyun left, Yoongi thought he would finally get some peace and quiet. The hope was dashed as the door was thrown open again, and Yoongi was about to finally lose his temper and tell you to stop fucking doing that, but when he looked up it wasn’t your pretty eyes he was met with.

“How’s it going between the two of you?” Taehyung asked, scrolling through his phone rather than look at Yoongi as he took a seat.

“Who?” Yoongi sighed, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He’d had a headache all day and seeing Taehyung was only making it worse. 

“You and Y/n, duh.” Taehyung snorted. 

“Terrible.” Yoongi deadpanned. “In fact, if you want to get more specific than that, it isn’t “going” at all. She made it very clear she wants nothing to do with me, and I think it’s time I respected that.” Jungkook’s words, while unwanted, stuck with Yoongi more than he cared to admit. He had a point, whether Yoongi liked it or not.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, putting his phone away. “So even after all I did, you still managed to screw things up?”

Yoongi let out a bark of a laugh. “You say that like you tried to help me.”

“I did,” Taehyung made a face. When Yoongi didn’t look convinced, he sighed dramatically. “Oh, come on. Are you really that dumb? I painted myself as the bad-guy to make you look better, and even made up that stupid lie about my house getting robbed so you’d have to drive her home--you do know I don’t own a house anymore, right?”

Yoongi stared at Taehyung as his words sunk in. “You what?”

“Seriously, your neighbor said you spent an entire weekend away from home, you were at her house, weren’t you?”

Yoongi blinked slowly. “Why were you talking to my neighbor?”

Taehyung dismissed Yoongi’s question entirely, waving a hand. “Unimportant. What is important is how you possibly managed to go from spending a weekend together to...whatever it is happening now.”

“Quit acting like you’re on my side, it’s weird,” Yoongi grumbled, looking back at the spreadsheet he was supposed to be reviewing.

“I’m not acting,” Taehyung said, pulling the paper off of Yoongi’s desk so he could look at it himself. “I think it’s time we put our differences aside and attempted to get along, don’t you?”

Yoongi scoffed, snatching the spreadsheet back. “Why?”

“We’re nearly thirty, for one thing. It was one thing when we were in our teens, but now it’s a little embarrassing, right?” Yoongi didn’t have anything to say to that. “Do you really want to still be fighting when we’re in our sixties--or older? Aren’t we better people than that, Yoongi?”

It was convincing, Yoongi gave him that. Taehyung met his eyes evenly and even pouted a little. “What do you want, Taehyung?” 

Taehyung switched back to his usual demeanor in an instant when Yoongi didn’t take the bait, grinning widely as he sat back in his chair.

“It was worth a try,” He chuckled, twirling a pencil idly. Yoongi nodded and waived a hand for him to continue. “I want a job here. A real one.”

Yoongi laughed. “No, seriously. What do you want?”

“I just told you,” Taehyung’s smile faded. “Give me a job working for you, preferably one that pays well.” 

“And I would do that because...?” Yoongi prompted.

“It would make both of your parents happy to see us working together and getting along,” Taehyung said simply. When Yoongi gave him an “are you kidding me” look, he sighed. “Look, I need a regular job to get custody. The courts don’t care how much is in my bank account, only that I’m a stable parent. Don’t do it for me, do it for Zoe. Do it for your niece, Yoongi.”

“That’s low, Taehyung,” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Even for you.” 

“I know you and I have our issues, but do you really think Mia is a fit parent?” Taehyung continued, completely unphased. “I’m not asking for the company, Yoongi. I’m asking you to give me some desk job until I’ve secured custody.”

Yoongi grimaced. He was just starting to think that Taehyung would leave soon. “I can’t just give you a job because we’re... family,” The word still felt strange to say even after so long. “But you can apply, just like everyone else. Give Namjoon your resume, and I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

“Wouldn’t that just mean talking to yourself?” Taehyung snorted, and Yoongi couldn’t help but halfheartedly throw a crumpled piece of paper at him.

“Get out of my office before I change my mind.”

The more you thought about it, the less you thought Jimin was actually at fault, and it was starting to bother you. It seemed pretty clear that Jimin wasn’t informed that you were getting any of the money, in which case Seokjin should’ve been the one to suffer. But when you asked around during lunch, everyone said that Jimin was always good for his money--apparently he’d lost a lot of bets, some of which for quite a bit more than what he bet against you. 

That left Seokjin, but he didn’t quite make sense either. He’d always treated you decently, even if he was a little annoying. He was the one who offered you the money, so why would he give you counterfeit? 

You went over the day several times in your mind while you ate, and every time it lead you back to the same unpleasant train of thought; Jungkook could, potentially, be behind it. He was the one who said Seokjin should give you the money, and you left him alone with it to tell Yoongi that Vanessa was there. 

You hated to think that he could have planned it all along, and that he might have been internally laughing at you the whole day, knowing that you bought a car with counterfeit.

Jungkook wasn’t that kind of person. He was the only half-way decent coworker you had, and he had gone out of his way to help you numerous times. He didn’t have any logical motive, anyway.

Then again, Jessica’s impression of him wasn’t good, and he had more enemies on the tenth floor than he had friends. There had to be a reason for that. He didn’t seem anything like what others thought of him, but you’d only known him for a month. And was is even possible for him to change this drastically in such a short amount of time?

You muttered a curse under your breath as you ran a hand down your face. Jungkook was your friend, wasn’t he? So why were you even entertaining the thought that he could do this to you?

Distracted, you ran headfirst into Jimin in the hall on your way back from lunch. 

“Sorry, Jimin,” You mumbled, and he gave you an exasperated look. 

“Whatever,” He said, and was about to continue away from you when you caught his arm.

“No, wait. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Why? So you can accuse me of something else?” Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No--I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions,” You said, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly. You’d made quite a scene earlier without any proof, and no matter what Jimin had said to you in the past, he deserved the benefit of a doubt. “And I’m sorry.”

Jimin looked slightly amused at this. “Yeah, well. As long as you know you were wrong.” 

The irritation at him you thought you’d put on hold rose up faster than you thought possible. “And what about you? You think all the horrible, unwarranted things you’ve said to me over the last month were right?”

The smirk dropped from his face. “Whatever. Let’s call it even.” He muttered, shoving past you. It wasn’t an apology, but was better than nothing. 

A/N It’s a short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed! I finally just decided to scrap what I wrote before and start over. To everyone who has sent me messages/chats, I’m really sorry I haven’t been keeping up with them. I haven’t had wifi for over a week now, so while I can write, it’s hard to reply. I promise I’ll try to get better about it next week, I should have more time then <3 <3 <3

[guitypleasure052016]

Take Me Home Part 2

This is part 2 to “Take Me Home”. Part 1 can be found here. There will be a flashback scene in this section. I will italicize the flashback scene to differentiate it.

Similar to earlier in the day, your other senses were awakened before you even opened your eyes. Your entire body still ached all over, it has lessened some, you assumed because they had put a painkiller through one of the tubes attached to the IV pole. You didn’t have to wonder if Chibs was still in the room as you could smell the all familiar scent combination and you could hear that perfect Scottish drawl. You also heard multiple other voices, most likely the other members of Filip’s club had come to find out what was going on. As exhausted and disoriented as you were, you knew you had work to do and lying in this damn hospital bed wasn’t going to get anything done. You slowly opened your eyes, trying not to draw any attention, and then began sliding one leg off the side of the bed to prepare for your quick escape but it was halted by a sudden noise. That damn bed alarm, you’d completely forgotten about it, and it had thwarted your escape plan. Before you could move another muscle, Filip was quickly making his way to your bed as his friends stood back and observed.

 “Please (Y/N), you need to stop trying to get up love, it’s not safe, you’re too hurt”, he pleaded with you while lifting your leg and sliding it back into the bed, gently covering it with a blanket.

 “You don’t get it, I have to leave. It doesn’t matter how I feel, I have to get to them.”, you responded.

 “You can’t get up darling, we’ll call whoever you need us to call, but I’m not going to let you leave this room, not in this condition”, Chibs stated firmly.

 “You can’t call anyone. You can’t do anything. You need to move. Coming here was a mistake”, you cried while again trying to get up out of the bed. You had barely moved before Filip stopped you once again. He placed his strong hands on your arms pushing you down firmly into the bed as he sat down on the edge of your bed. 

“You will not move from this bed (Y/N), not until your cleared by a doctor, I don’t want to hear another thing about it”, he ordered.You nodded, taken aback by how firm he was being. He noticed how nervous you became and his expression quickly changed from firm to concerned, as he removed one arm from your side in order to brush a piece of hair out of your face, and caress your cheek.

 “Don’t be upset lass. I’m not cross with you, I just don’t want you hurting yourself…even more, than you already are”, he reassured you. You turned your face in his hand, kissing his palm, and then turned back to offer him a sad smile. 

“My sweet love, why are you so scared, don’t you know I’ll always protect you”, he questioned. You sighed and shook your head, not even beginning to know how to explain what was going on. You didn’t have much time to think about what to say as one of his friends from the club chimed in. 

A tall man with curly black hair slowly walked up, clapping a hand on Filip’s shoulder and announced, “Besides, we’re all family and if you’re important to Chibs here, you’re important to us too. We won’t let anything bad happen to ya doll”. The other men in the room nodded and grunted in agreement. You smiled first at the curly haired man, then at Filip, then at the rest of the men in the room. 

“I appreciate your offer guys but I couldn’t ask that of any of you, not with the drama I’ve brought with me. Coming here to Charming was a last-ditch effort for a hopeless situation and I won’t have anyone else hurt on my account”, you told the chivalrous group of men. 

One of the youngest of the group, a man with little to no hair but a rather large head tattoo, spoke up, “Don’t worry (Y/N). We won’t let that Jason guy anywhere near you”. Your smile quickly turned to a scowl and you whipped your head back towards Filip. 

“What did you tell them”, you accused. 

“Nothing, I didn’t tell them anything yet love but I did show them the card from the flowers…..it didn’t say much….it just said that he would see you soon and he signed his name…we didn’t get much farther than that before you woke up. It took them a while to get here, plus the nurse only gave you a mild sedative to calm down so you weren’t knocked out too long”, he explained. Before he could say much else, that same nurse entered the room, interrupting the conversation. 

“What the hell is going on here, this woman is supposed to be resting and recovering, not hosting all of SAMCRO. You all can see her in the morning, but for now you’re going to have to leave”, she ordered. All of the guys groaned and grumbled but seemed to heed the nurse’s request.

 “We’ll leave, but my two guys here Juice and Rat are going to be outside the door to make sure she’s safe but they won’t disturb her”, a tall man with shoulder length blonde hair responded while nodding to the two men. When you looked closer, you saw that blondie had the president’s patch on his kutte. The nurse rolled her eyes but agreed to the man’s conditions. She seemed to be familiar with the biker crew as you were sure they had people in and out of this hospital all of the time. 

“I’m not leaving her here. I’m staying right here by her side til we figure out what the hell is going on”, Chibs suddenly spoke up. The nurse sighed deeply and turned around.

 “Listen I know y’all care about this girl but the only people that get to stay here overnight are family or significant others. Anything else is against hospital regulations”, she informed the guys.

 “Well, that’s fine then cause I’m her man, her significant other or whatever shite the hospital says. I’m with her”, Chibs responded as he stood up from the edge of your bed, standing in front of you protectively, placing himself between you and the nurse. 

“No he’s not”, you called out from behind “I’m married and he’s not the husband”. Almost every head in the room quickly turned to look at you in confusion. 

“Don’t do this (Y/N)”, Chibs pleaded as he quickly walked back over to your bed, that familiar painful look plastered across his face.

 He tried to grab your hands but you quickly pulled them out of his grasp and looked away, whispering “It’s easier this way Filip. I won’t let you or your brothers get hurt for me”. Before he had a chance to respond, the nurse quickly stepped around him and ushered all of the men out of the room.

It was several hours later and you were exhausted. The hospital was much quieter at this time of night. All you could hear was the shuffle of feet in the hallway, whispers of hospital staff, and the beeping of monitors in your room. The night shift staff tried to keep everything quiet so patients could sleep but you would not be sleeping tonight.You had spent the past hours sobbing ever since you watched Filip walk out the door. You thought you’d be used to this feeling. Every time the two of you met, it always ended this way, in heartbreak because no matter how much you loved each other, you both knew that you could never be together. Almost as if on cue, the door to your room creaked open and there he was. He offered an apologetic smile and entered the room, softly closing the door behind him. You know you should send him away but you had no resolve at this point and smiled back at him, reaching your arms out to him. You could see him breathe a sigh of relief that you didn’t send him away again, and he quickly came over to you, engulfing you in as tight of a hug as your bruised and battered body could handle

. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t leave, you stubborn ass hole”, you teased as you smiled up at the man you loved. 

He smiled and then sighed and asked, “Do you remember the day we met lass. That and the first night we….well ya know”? 

You offered him a confused smile at the sudden reminiscing and his nervousness and responded, “Of course I do Filip. I remember it like it was yesterday”.

It was a blistering hot summer day, typical early June weather and you were pissed. You had decided to take a break at a rest stop in some random town in Pennsylvania. You had gone inside to hit the head and grab a bite to eat. You gorged yourself on Chick-fil-A and made sure to order some waffle fries for the road. You walked out to your car, ready to get going and hit the road. You put your key in the ignition and to your dismay, it didn’t start. You cursed your shit luck and banged your head against the steering wheel. You got out of your car and popped the hood, bending over and looking everything over as if you knew what the hell you were doing. You cursed again and pulled out your phone to call local mechanics in the area and dreading the mounting costs that this little hiccup would cost you. You had a long road ahead of you. You had just graduated from graduate school in Upstate New York. You wanted to stay there, you loved your life there with your friends and you loved studying chemistry. You tried to convince your family that you should stay there and continue going to school but your father insisted you return home so here you were with a station wagon filled to the brim and hundreds of miles to drive across the country to drive to your small town in Oregon. You were lost in thought trying to calculate how much the tow and the fix would potentially cost you when you were brought back to reality by a voice from behind you. You jumped and turned around quickly, reaching for the pocket knife in your back pocket. You came face to face with a man whose arms were now up in the “surrender” position. 

“Sorry lass, didn’t mean to startle ya but it seems like you’re having car trouble. I know a thing or two about cars so I thought I might be able to help” he explained. You noticed his accent right away and smiled. You had already thought he was good looking but that was just the icing on the cake. 

“You’re not from around here are you”, you questioned.

 The man chuckled and responded, “You’ve got me there lass but since we’re currently at a truck stop in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere, I’m gonna guess you’re not from here either”. You laughed, feeling oddly at ease with this stranger.

 “You’re right, I’m not from here. I live all the way at the other end of the country. I’m Y/N”, you introduced yourself, sticking out your hand to shake his. He took your hand in his own and brought it to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“My name’s Filip, but everyone calls me Chibs. Now let me take a look at that car and see if I can help you out”, he replied. You stepped back and let him get to work. You stood back and admired the view while he looked over your car. He was a tall man, dark colored hair mixing between brown and black with a speckle of grey throughout. He had two scars on his face that added to his allure. You could tell he was a man who lived a full and eventful life. He wore a pair of dark colored jeans, along with an even darker shirt. What really caught your attention was the kutte he was wearing, worn leather with a large reaper plastered across the back. Above the reaper were the words “Sons Of Anarchy” in large bold writing. You had just met but this man intrigued you. You knew you wanted to know more about him. It also helped that he was an attractive guy with an accent and who knew how to fix a car. You were suddenly brought back to reality by Chip, no that’s not it, Chibs is his name. 

“Earth to (Y/N), you enjoying the view?”, he teased. You blushed, embarrassed that you were caught staring and shook your head.

 “I think I’ve figured it out. It’s your battery. It’s dead. It looks ancient as hell, to be honest”, he informed you while shrugging his shoulders and running a hand through his hair

 “That makes sense”, you mused, “I’m pretty sure the last time the battery was changed was when my granddad gave it to me years back”. 

“Well you could pay to have it towed, which will cost you an arm and a leg or if you want to there’s a Walmart about a mile up the road. We could walk up there and pick you up a battery. I only need a couple tools to do it and I’ve got those in my bag. Before you say you don’t want to impose, you’re not imposing. It’s my honor and duty to come to the aid of a beautiful damsel in distress”, Chibs offered. You blushed at the compliment and agreed to Filip’s plan.

The two of you started off down the road. You were worried it’d be awkward but the conversation flowed as easily as if you were two friends. You told him about your life in New York and about your recent graduation. He was impressed with your degree and inquired as to why you were heading back to Oregon if you loved your life in New York. He could tell that question triggered something as your entire body language changed. You shrugged and told him that as much as you wish you could’ve stayed in New York, that you had a position in the family business waiting for you back home and your father insisted that you return to play your part, that it was very complicated. Chibs noticed you seemed upset and quickly changed the subject. He told you about his childhood, being born in Scotland, but spending most of his life in Ireland. He made you laugh when he told you the story of how he got himself kicked out of the British Army. When you asked him why he found himself in the US if so much of his life is across the sea, you noticed he suddenly became uncomfortable.

 He seemed at a loss for words but then finally responded, “I had to leave. It’s…it’s…it’s complicated”.

 “I get that Filip”, you reassured him, “Don’t worry, we don’t have to talk about it. Can I ask though where you’re headed”? At this point, the two of you had reached the store and went on the hunt for the car battery. While he shopped he told you about his group of old friends he’d be meeting out in California. He explained that they were a group of motorcycle enthusiasts, who were like family, pointing out the patches sewn on to the back of his kutte. He also told you about the motorcycle he wanted to buy once he got out there. A couple hours later, the car battery was installed. Chibs shut the hood and instructed you to get in the car and try to turn it on again. You held your breath and put your key in the ignition. The car roared to life and you squealed with excitement. You hopped out of the car and ran over to Chibs, jumping into his arms and enveloping him in a hug, thanking him repeatedly. He laughed, a little taken aback by your outburst but he hugged you back. You spent the next half hour talking and laughing outside your car, neither of you wanting this conversation or moment to end. That’s when you had an idea. 

“Listen Chibs, I remember you said you were hopping trains and buses to make your way out to California. I have a better idea. Why don’t you ride out with me? We can split when we get closer but I’d love to have some company other than that radio that plays the same song over and over. Now before you say don’t want to impose, you’re not imposing. It’s my honor and duty to come to the aid of a damsel in distress”, you proposed, winking when you quoted his line from earlier. 

“You’re cheeky ya know that”, he laughed. You smirked back at him, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Ahhh alright, I guess I should tag along in case this beast of yours gives you any more issues”, he mused “one condition though, I’ll drive”. You agreed, excited not to have to drive for once and tossed him the keys and hopped in the passenger seat.

You were so happy Chibs had agreed to come with you. It was amazing having company but there was something more. The two of you just clicked. You talked about anything and everything, and when you weren’t talking, you just sat in silence enjoying one another’s company. There was lots of flirting and a definite sexual tension but Chibs insisted on being a gentleman, well the biker version of a gentleman. When it was time to sleep at night he always insisted on him sleeping over the blankets or taking the couch if there was one. That all changed one night during your trip. The two of you had dinner at this little pub that was having $1 drink specials. You were waiting at the front while Chibs went and paid your tab. He always insisted on paying and you had to sneak the bill if you wanted to treat. You were standing up at the front searching through the music when you heard a low whistle from behind you. You rolled your eyes and turned around coming face to face with a drunken scumbag. He had greasy black hair and looked like he hadn’t showered in weeks. He smelled like it too. He looked you up and down, lingering a little too long for your liking.

 “Hey creep”, you called out, “What the hell do you want”. 

“The only thing I want is you baby”, he responded while he sauntered even closer to you, attempting to pin you between himself and the jukebox. You were having none of it though and pushed past him, trying to walk out the door to find your car. He turned around and grabbed your arm, attempting to stop you. Before he had a chance to drop another stupid pick up line, you turned around and landed a punch on his smug face, right in the jaw. You shook out your hand and readied yourself for the fight that was about to happen. 

The drunken asshole was bending over holding his jaw but after the shock wore off, he stood up and screamed “You stupid bitch, I’m gonna”….but he was interrupted. Chibs had arrived on the scene and quickly grabbed the drunken idiot by the collar and dragged him out to the parking lot. The rest of the crowd seemed unfazed by the incident so you quickly ran outside to find Chibs. You heard him before you saw him and quickly followed the noise. You found them behind a parked car. Chibs’ fist was covered in blood and that same fist was repeatedly bashing the face of the drunken scumbag. 

Chibs was screaming at him, accent thick with anger, “What the fuck did ya think you were doing you inbred piece of shite, puttin yer hands on a woman like that. You’re lucky I don’t kill ya”! You were wary to try to break it up but you didn’t want Chibs to actually kill the man so you quickly stepped in and tried to pull him off but you weren’t successful. 

You screamed Chibs’ name over and over and finally got his attention when you shouted, “Filip please stop. You’re going to kill him”! Hearing the twinge of pain in your voice, he quickly stopped and spun around. He had a deadly look on his face and seemed to be panting. 

He took several deep breaths to calm himself and replied to you, “Alrighty Darlin’. I’m about finished up here, then we can go back to the motel and I’ll clean up your hand”. You rolled your eyes at the thought of you being the more injured of the pair as Chibs turned around and kicked the bastard as hard as he could. As the man called out in pain, Filip turned around and threw an arm around your shoulder. 

“Let’s get going lovey”, he declared and off you went to the motel.

You were back at the motel. Chibs had cleaned up your hand rather quickly as you’d only thrown one punch. He protested but you insisted he sit down on the bed as you gently wiped the blood from his now bruised hand. You hadn’t talked much since you got back from the pub but there was this feeling in the air, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it but you felt it deep down inside of you. After you had helped him clean up his hand, he smiled and pecked you on the forehead. He told you that he was going to take a shower to wash off the smell of the drunk. 

“Give me your shirt first”, you called out, “I have stain remover in my bag and that t-shirt is going to need it”. 

“You’re just trying to get me naked lass”, he teased but he complied, taking off his shirt and throwing it your way. You barely caught it as you were distracted by the sight in front of you. He was covered in tattoos and scars. You wanted to explore all of them even closer but you didn’t get to check him out too long as he strolled into the bathroom to take a shower. You got out the stain remover, poured it into a bowl, and soaked the bloody t-shirt inside. As you kneaded the dirty t-shirt in the liquid, you couldn’t get the thought of Filip’s half-naked body out of your head. You suddenly had an idea. You opened the door of the bathroom, announcing that you had to wash the liquid off your hands as he grunted in response. After you washed your hands, you quietly and carefully slipped your shirt off, up and over your head, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You slid your jeans down your body and stripped off your panties, throwing them on the floor. You took a deep breath and stepped into the back of the shower, struggling not to audibly gasp at the sight in front of you. 

Chibs turned around shocked and asked you, “Lass what the hell are you doing”. 

“What you don’t like what you see”, you asked shrugging your shoulders and pouting. 

You saw him gulp as he looked you up and down and he growled, “Of course I like what I see (Y/N). I mean I’d be crazy not to. You’re sexy as hell”. 

He suddenly tried to look away, hiding his gaze, “But we shouldn’t do this”, he sputtered, “You’re just excited cause I fought that prick for ya and we’re both drunk. I don’t want ta take advantage”. 

“Filip”, you purred, “Yes I’m drunk which is probably why I’m feeling a little more confident but not drunk enough that I’ll do anything I’ll regret. I’ve wanted to jump your bones since the moment we met in that parking lot. Seeing you beat up that creep for me only made me want you more”. Feeling bold, you took a step forward, pressing your body against his wrapping your arms around his neck. Chibs tried to look away but you could feel his excitement which gave him away. 

He groaned, “Lass we shouldn’t do th..”. “Oh shut up and fuck me Filip”, you interrupted. That did it. He growled and wrapped his arms around you, shoving you against the wall of the shower as his lips crashed into yours. As your kiss deepened, the two of you explored one another’s bodies with your hands. You lost track of time, lost in one another, and the water eventually turned ice cold. You whined and Chibs took the opportunity to grab your ass and lift you up in his arms, carrying you out to the bed, still soaking wet. He tossed you on to the bed and took a moment to hungrily take in the sight of your naked body writhing on the bed in anticipation. He groaned in appreciation and was soon on top of you. The two of you fought for dominance for a while but soon found a steady rhythm. He was obviously experienced as he made your body feel things that you’d never felt before. You could tell he appreciated your skills as well each time he let go. Quite some time and many many orgasms later, the two of your laid across each other on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He was laying on his back in the middle of the bed as you laid on top of him. You ran your hands through his hair, as his hands rested possessively on your ass. You started to laugh and Chibs raised his eyebrows, spanking you sharply. 

“What’s so funny lass. Way to make a man feel good”, he teased. You continued to laugh and placed your head down on his chest, lifting it up to offer him a mischievous smile. 

“It’s not that Filip…we left the shower on”, you laughed. 

“Well then”, he growled, “let’s get going love”. He slapped your ass with his right hand while his left arm wrapped around your waist, he stood,  lifting you up and carrying you to the bathroom. You wrapped your legs around his waist and squealed in excitement.

You came back to reality and blushed at the shared memory. You and Filip were only supposed to stay at that motel for one night and get going in the morning but you stayed there for 3 days, only leaving to get food and then immediately returning.

 “So why the walk down memory lane,” you asked as you scooted over, patting the bed next to you so he would climb in. He sighed and hopped up next to you, adjusting your blanket so you were covered and wrapping an arm around you. You welcomed the sudden closeness and snuggled into his side. He sighed, you could tell he was thinking and waited patiently for his response. 

“Well lass, after everything we went through on that trip and since then, it just kills me that you’re this scared and don’t trust me to protect you. You know I’d do anything for you Y/N”. You looked up at him with a confused look on your face. 

“Is that what you really think Filip, that I don’t trust you”, you asked. “It’s not that at all, it’s just all…it’s…it’s complicated”, you explained. 

“Isn’t it always”, he groaned in response. “Now get some sleep love. You need to rest”, he ordered as he pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Tell me a bedtime story Filip”, you pleaded. 

“Alrighty love”, he mused. “Do you want to hear about how I got kicked out of the army again”, he asked.

 “Ohhh yes, that’s my favorite”, you replied while snuggling into his chest. You knew you had things to do but for now, for tonight, you were going to fall asleep in the arms of the man you love.

Part 3 

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[clove-teasdale]

survival of the fittest

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge but has background, some detective clove and rp~ Sorry for any mistakes in writing or typos, I was done with revisions and probs missed some stuff lol. there are mulan and batman (and slight marvel) references. italics section in the end is past. word count around 3k. enjoy! ft. rp with @maya-edwards  & little wilson

[edit--some slight changes were made/added in the last section]

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

One earbud in, I tapped the pen against my notebook. 6 Twos in the last Selection. Gradually less than our current 10.

I’d found the list of old Selected in a magazine published over two decades ago. I doubted ripping off the page was allowed considering it was from the library, but it wasn’t an actual book so I sneaked it out anyway. The possibility of someone noticing was extremely low after all.

I kept the page folded and clipped in the back cover of my notebook in case I needed it later, but had already made my own version of the list on a fresh page. I wanted to work through it even with other people around, so I knew I had to make it visually confusing. For once my love for complicated plans came in handy. 

The list consisted of name abbreviations. Carmen Zoraya becoming C.Z and so on. Next, to each name, I added caste number and week of elimination. 

C.Z-3-W8.  R.D.J.-2-W12 B.M-5-W3

Getting the information had taken me hours of reading in the library, but I’d managed. I went through different magazines, hidden between some pillars and a bookshelf to avoid being spotted by other girls that frequented the area. Organizing the old issues by their dates had probably been the biggest challenge–sitting on the carpeted floor, my back to the bookshelf and dozens of magazines on my lap.

I focused mostly on reading eliminations to get the crucial information out, but I hoped to go back later in the week to read about the dramas that had ensued during those months. Maybe that would give some extra insight otherwise dismissed when looking only at the bigger picture.

I wasn’t sure why I was still working on this. A gut feeling? Many psychologists debated there was always information and data our right brain was taking in, no matter if our left brain was busy on something else. The body registers the information even when your mind stays unaware. If that were true, what had I noticed besides the already obvious? I couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter. I had enough spare time to work on it.

Running through the names again, I added strikes under Threes. I was in the eighth strike when I caught a girl approaching from the corner of my eye. She was the embodiment of nervousness, eyes searching the room as she clutched a book to her chest. There was an empty spot next to me, but she hadn’t noticed it yet when Victoria walked behind her. The TV sensation hadn’t even batted an eye in her direction, but the girl with the short afro was startled nonetheless.

The book was soon in the air as she juggled it around in an attempt to catch it. She wasn’t as swift as a coursing river though and it fell to the ground pretty quickly. 

She sighed, shoulders slumping in disappointment. I stared in silence, making sure others hadn’t paid much attention to the event before stating, “I think you dropped something.”

She was startled once more, but this time by my voice, a groan leaving her lips as she realized the spectacle had had an audience. “You saw all that, didn’t you…”

“Does it make it any better if I say no?”

She reached for the book and once standing, nodded a little, a worried frown as she said, “A-actually yes…”

I raised an eyebrow at her fear, unsure of the reason behind it, but settled with an “Okay,” and went back to my notes. I knew the best thing was not to make any further comments.

“Can I, uh- Can I sit here?” She asked after a moment.

I stopped in the middle of adding another strike to the number of Threes and considered the question. Staring at my notes without context made no sense as expected, so I figured it wasn’t a problem. “The seat is open to the public, you may sit.”

Whether she understood my slightly joking tone or not was hard to tell, but she cleared her throat and sat down either way. “Thanks…”

I’d seen her around before. Maya was her name if I remembered correctly. Sometimes she seemed kind of lost. Not like she didn’t know what was happening, but more like she wasn’t sure why she was there or what her plan was. A combination of shy and awkward was very likely.

Easy targets tend to know what they are. Wilson’s face crossed my mind at the thought. I took the single earbud I was wearing off, then went back to counting Threes. “No need to thank me. You didn’t need my permission to sit there.”

“Uh, well…Maybe you didn’t want company or- maybe it was taken?”

“Whether I want company or not should not scare you away from taking a seat that is there to be used by you.”

She frowned, considering my words. “I suppose not?” A moment of silence. “Sorry?”

I paused my count. So one of those people. Looking up, I raised an eyebrow at her. “Why sorry?”

Her own logic caught up with mine as she stuttered, “Uh-well- I don’t know…” 

Trying to run away from embarrassment, she quickly opened her book and pretended to read. Too bad she wasn’t good at pretending. 

I smirked down at my notes and said, “I see you have the ability of reading upside down.”

Her blush was unmistakable as she closed her eyes, realizing she was holding the book incorrectly. She tried to fix it, turning it over quickly. “No-Yes, yes, very entertaining, I can tell you.” She cleared her throat at the end and my smirk didn’t leave.

“Mhmm, I bet so. What did you think about the love interest killing his sister?”

“It really uh, turned the story ‘upside down’…”

I snorted at the pun. “Of course… you do realize that doesn’t happen though?” Taking the book from her and reading the page at the bottom I pointed out, “Page 56. The love interest isn’t introduced yet.” Also, there was no sister. Closing the book, I handed it back with a smug smile. Her smile in return was awkward.

“Well, it was worth a try? Sor– I mean, eh the book is nice then? Haven’t read it yet.”

“I figured as much, but yes, it’s a decent one. What made you pick it up?”

“I dropped it? So… Then I picked it up again?” She frowned and a head tilt followed. I frowned too, not getting what she was talking about at first, but then laughing at the mistake.

Once she realized what I meant she was quick to explain she hoped to get some knowledge on palace rules and etiquette considering the setting of the book. In theory, it sounded like something good, but it wasn’t going to be enough and she actually had access to books about the subject in the library. I suggested those for later. She pointed out they were boring in a small voice and I couldn’t disagree. I did tell her a novel wouldn’t help much, however.

“I know, I know…” She pouted, but soon curiosity took over her features. “What are you doing though?”

I stared at my barely understandable handwriting. I had the potential to make it neat if I bothered to try, but half the time I didn’t and especially not now. “A… personal project I guess.” I shrugged it off as I closed the notebook. “Nothing too important.”

“O-of course! I didn’t mean to uh–…” She vaguely gestured with her hands in the air when I waited for her to continue. “You know, to be rude.”

“It’s alright, not that big a deal, just something I don’t think I’d be able to explain.“ A partial lie. I didn’t want to start havoc just because I’d run a couple of numbers that could technically still be coincidental. Thankfully, I usually pulled off keeping things to myself pretty well. “You’re Maya, right?”

“Yes! And you’re Clove.” She smiled, taking another second to remember to offer a hand for me to shake. 

I nodded at the name and accepted the handshake. It wasn’t a soft grip, but slightly wary. She could use a little confidence. “You know, you shouldn’t be so frightened by them. They won’t bite you.”

I hadn’t mentioned Victoria’s name, but she got what I meant, biting her lip and trying to joke to dismiss my comment. I wasn’t too impressed. “I mean it.” I opened my notebook, this time on a random page, and started doodling a spiral pattern out of habit. “They seem like they’ll hurt you but if anyone was that mean sabotage would already be happening.  Worse case scenario maybe one of them is that petty, but you’d have to piss them off for real to worry about it.”

Maya nodded. “It sounds logical… Thanks anyway.”

That smile was more convincing than the previously given, even if she changed the subject after it. 

It took a few seconds for Wilson to stop laughing. “Oh wait, you’re serious?”

Even if he couldn’t see it through the call, I rolled my eyes at him. “You talk as if I can’t make friends.”

“Well, I mean… you can, but you hate them most of the time.”

That got a snort from me. “I don’t hate them. I just don’t trust their intentions.”

“Same difference. Clove Teasdale doesn’t make friends.”

That was a partial truth. I had various friend groups during high school and middle school, but none of them stuck with me. I was that person people wanted to be friends with, but not for any good reasons. It was because we fitted or because it was expected. Other times it was just convenient. Sometimes I wondered if maybe it was me though. Maybe I didn’t know how to be a good friend. That or I had really bad luck.

People at Mt. Rainer High School always seemed to strike some drama no matter what the clique. More often than not, about something I couldn’t understand, but whenever I gave suggestions to make things less complicated I was ignored, an annoyance, or horrible for not supporting a side.

When groups fractured I took a step back. Better alone than in a mess. Wilson had never understood why I’d give it all up and move on so fast, but I didn’t blame him. He knew that it was a smart choice to avoid drama, yet wished he could have that choice himself. He didn’t. He wasn’t really liked around school and therefore had only one friend...Which wasn't that different from me except I could pretend more.

Students liked to say it was because he was kind of a nerd. He knew as much as I did that it was because of his previous Caste though, even if no one would admit so. It was kinda dumb. As dumb as the caste system itself–trying to set a number with the life you’ll get–forcing a talented artist to become a teacher and a physics genius to be Picasso.

Not everyone could pull off a Da Vinci and be good at whatever they were put in. Many people failed because of that. Others were like Wilson’s mother, giving up the life she was born in for a life as a Three with whom she fell in love with. That left Wilson as nothing but a Two by chance. Terrible, dreadful chance that he never even asked for and would probably give up to get his parents back.

I leaned against my chair and got back to our conversation. “Statistically speaking, most people that stay friends are from college so…”

He pretended to be offended. “Ouch.”

”You’re decent enough. But as I was saying, I’ll try to befriend some of the girls. This isn’t school.”

“Hmm, you’re right. Everyone here sucks.”

“Even Graciela?” I teased, remembering the name I’d gotten out of him a few days ago. He scoffed back at me.

“No, she hasn’t been corrupted yet.”

“Now you just have to actually talk to her.”

He laughed for the second time. I was silent. “Oh, you’re serious again.”

I shook my head. “You’re a lost cause, kid.”

It was the middle of freshman year when we met for the first time.

I was placing books in my backpack, my head making a list of the homework for the next day when Cooper pushed him into a set of lockers feet away. I turned my head in the direction of who would one day be the future varsity quarterback as he took care of the new wimpy kid. 

Cooper wasn’t really original, trying as hard as possible to go for the popular-jock-bully stereotype as soon as the school year started. Intimidating middle schoolers and stealing lunch money he didn’t even need. It was hard to ignore sometimes, but I did.

Pressing my lips together, I watched as he stepped away to laugh at the boy, inciting his two friends to join him on whatever joke he’d made. Obviously, they did. Cooper’s father was a high ranking officer in the military. He had everything he needed to be on a high pedestal in school one day, which was annoying. 

I was on the list of few who ever stood up to him since we’d once been friends. That is before he filled his head with air. The brief moment I got to look at his new prey was enough to recognize the black haired kid holding tightly onto the strap of his backpack with a clenched jaw. 

His eyes darted from Cooper to the floor around him, head hidden between his shoulders. I’d seen that face in a million pictures around Mrs. Grayson’s house after my chess classes with her. It was her grandson, the one she always referred to as little robin. Apparently, the kid ran around saying “holy cows, Batman” more than he should when he was seven.

She told my parents he would move in with her soon, being the legal guardian his parents’ had asked for. “Car accident,” she’d mentioned. I had already spotted him in our algebra class a few times that week. He seemed advanced enough to take it before high school which only made him a bigger target.

Cooper nudged him, “Come on, that was hilarious.” Little Robin didn’t seem to have the same spirit Mrs. Grayson always talked about now and only gulped, averting his gaze. Cooper didn’t leave him though. “Cat got your tongue or something? I’ve never heard you say anything in class.” He towered over him, making him press his back even closer to the lockers.

I narrowed my eyes at them and walked over. I hadn’t precisely told Mrs. Grayson I would keep an eye out for him, but I felt like I needed to on her behalf. Sometimes she’d served as a babysitter of sorts when my parents traveled together. She was good to me. 

I elbowed Cooper’s friends out of the way and they gave angry glares until they recognized me. They decided to step away instead so I stood behind Cooper and tapped his shoulder.

“What-” he paused mid-sentence as he turned around, eyes locking on me, annoyed for the split second he realized I wasn’t one of his friends. Jaw clenched, he stood up straighter and then mumbled my name between a gritted-teeth smile. “Anything I can help you with?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, flatly.

He offered a charming smile. “Oh, just asking the genius for some tutoring classes. You know how bad I’m at Algebra. I thought I might as well ask him to teach me some stuff. Right George?” He elbowed the kid for a sign of confirmation.

I was pretty sure his name wasn’t George, yet Little Robin didn’t correct him either as he spared me a glance himself. There was a pause long enough to tell Cooper was lying. And though I knew that much already, in the end, the boy thought it was wiser to agree halfheartedly to the lie. Survival of the fittest. He wouldn’t disagree after Cooper established himself as an authority so firmly.

I remained silent, thinking of how to turn the situation around. The kid was new, he didn’t know what to do. It was like a game of poker. Bluff even if you don’t have the upper hand.

“He can’t tutor you,” I stated, earning a confused frown from both.

“And why is that?” Cooper crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. Good thing this wasn’t a matter of physical strength, and if it were, a strategy could give leverage either way.

“Because I asked him to tutor me already.” My turn to lie.

The boy blinked, trying to read between the lines of our conversation while Cooper narrowed his eyes at me. “I didn’t think you needed help with math, Clove.”

“Well, I do, and he promised to help me out.” I looked at the boy. “Right kid?”

Again he only blinked. 

Your turn to join the game Robin, don’t disappoint. It took him another second, but his eyes lit up with understanding and he stood up straighter. “Yeah, I um…I did.” 

Cooper glared at him and the kid broke eye contact, however, didn’t slump against the lockers anymore. Then the glowering was at me. 

I only raised my eyebrows in response, inciting a move from Cooper. His lip twitched, jaw set as I stared up at him. He knew better than to make a scene. I’d tied his hands. He couldn’t force Wilson to tutor him if I claimed he’d agreed to tutor me first. Bringing in a teacher to ‘settle the situation’ was possible if I wanted too. There was no way for him to win.

Knowing how to pick his battles, he turned around to leave but I stopped him. “Wait.”

“What?” he groaned.

I crossed my arms. “Did you take any money from him?”

His eyes flashed as he swiveled around. I waited. He let out a breath through his nose before placing a grin on his face to hide unwillingness. If there was something Cooper hated was letting others know someone had been able to push his buttons.

He turned to the boy, taking a few bills out of his pocket, and forced his voice to sound friendly. “Hey, thanks for lending me the money kid, but turns out I might not need it anymore.” 

The boy stared at the money like it was on fire, but accepted its returns when he noticed my head gesture and the jock’s angry gaze. 

“Happy now,” Cooper muttered afterward. I shrugged and he stormed off as soon as he could, followed by the other two jerks. Once they were gone I looked back at him.

“You okay?”

His head snapped back in my direction. “What just..”

I didn’t let him finish the question and simply announced, “He lost the game.” 

His mouth opened to reply. Nothing came out and I glanced at my watch. If I didn’t get moving I’d have no chance to eat. “Stay out of his way and you’ll be fine.”

“Um… y-yeah, alright. Thanks.”

I nodded. “Clove Teasdale.”

“Geordi Wilson.”

George would have been better… I sized him up. His uniform was in pristine form: shirt tucked in, vest ironed to perfection, hair combed neatly and shoes as shiny as they could be. Not bad by any means, but definitely like he was trying too hard. He would need some help to survive around here.

I turned around to leave. “Stick with Wilson, kid.”

[mistymoonstorm]

GMS Fanfiction - Jack/MC (Not Shown) - Fear

So, I thought I'd warn you all now. This is definitely not fluff. It's dark and doesn't even show the pairing (due to a reason I'll explain in my author's note at the end). I just wanted to share an idea that I happened to have.

Just letting you guys know. I didn't want anyone going into this expecting romance. Sorry!

The weather was cold and unforgiving that night. Devoid of clouds, the vast blackness of the sky invited ruthless, frigid winds into the sleeping city, tearing at Guinevere Stark’s hair and clothing as she made her way home.

She tugged her overcoat closer, indulging a moment of regret as her breath misted in the darkness. She should have trusted her instincts and dressed warmer.

All the same. Her apartment was very close now. Just a few turns and she’d be back in a heated space, free to bundle up in blankets or take a hot bath.

The bath sounded especially wonderful. She was stiff from standing and sitting in the same positions for most of the day. It would be nice to unwind.

A strange sound reached her ears, strangled and weak. An injured animal? Or a person in trouble?

Guinevere swallowed, suddenly gripped by a horrible sense of foreboding. The shadows that had once been ordinary seemed to become hostile, jagged and clawlike in the odd sickly glow of the autumn moon.

By chance, her eyes landed on the entrance of an alley and stopped. It gaped at her, wide and unsettling like the hungry maw of a beast. Her hands shook minutely, and she balled them into fists. This was silly. She had no reason to be acting like this.

Still. She wished now that she hadn’t decided to take such a deserted street.

Guinevere breathed out slowly in an attempt to calm herself. Regardless of her own childish fear, she had to be sure. Someone could be hurt and unable to contact an ambulance. What kind of person would she be if she could have helped a person in need and didn’t take the chance?

Shaking her head to rid herself of her trepidation, she took one step into the alley, then two.

For a moment, she couldn’t see, squinting fruitlessly into the misshapen black masses that met her. Could one shape be stooped over another, or was it a trick of the night?

The reek of biting copper hit her senses all at once, overwhelming and sharp. Guinevere recoiled out of sheer instinct, a hand flying up to cover her mouth and nose.

“Hello?” she called, thoughtlessly.

There was a shuffle of movement, but it was too dark to truly see. Guinevere reached into her pocket for her phone, trusting that its flashlight would be handy, and stopped short.

Someone was watching her. Though she couldn’t prove it, she knew this to be true.

Guinevere backpedalled as muffled footsteps approached swiftly. Her heart fluttered like a frightened bird, the rushing of blood the only definite noise in her ears.

Her muscles tensed in preparation for flight, a raw, visceral terror screaming for her to run-

“Ma’am? Is everything alright?”

A glint of red flashed in the alley, and the shape she had just begun to make out vanished with a rush of noise.

Guinevere remained stationary, breathing harsh, until hands landed on her from behind.

She jumped like a jackrabbit, a noise of distress escaping her throat.

“Calm down! It’s alright. I’m a cop.”

As the man stepped out from behind her, his badge reflected the silver of the moon.

“George Lestrade,” he introduced, expression tight with concern. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

Guinevere shook her head, light from adrenaline. Her hands still trembled. “I heard noises in the alley. I came to check.”

“Did you see anything?” Lestrade asked, peering around her.

“No.” She shook her head again. “It’s too dark. I didn’t get the chance to turn on my flashlight. But there was someone in there. I know it.”

The officer wordlessly tugged his flashlight from his belt, flipping it on and shining it into the alley.

Guinevere gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth.

A young woman lay motionless on the ground, her head tilted back and her expression almost peaceful.

Her throat had been slashed open.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, immediate revulsion twisting her gut. She distantly registered her own knees meeting the concrete, and the dull throbbing that followed, as she watched Lestrade shout into his radio.

The rest was a blur.

Almost an hour later, she was sitting in the police station as an officer prodded her for information. Still in shock, she merely sat and regarded him uncomprehendingly, lost in the tangle of her roiling thoughts. Her stomach turned at the image of the woman, draped still and painted with crimson like some macabre work of art, inescapable and enough to make her draw into herself in fear even now.

The next thing she knew, the man from earlier - Lestrade, she remembered - was standing over her, his irritation clearly visible at the interrogation she was receiving.

He convinced the other officer to leave her be, and then escorted her home, expressing his concern multiple times over her emotional state.

Guinevere managed to persuade him that she would manage on her own, and sent him away. She had faded into a deadened sort of numbness now, falling back into her couch and hugging her scraped knees to her chest as if the faux embrace could help her.

She had just witnessed the aftermath of a murder. She could have been murdered herself, easily, if that had been the killer himself in the alleyway before Lestrade had stumbled upon her.

The cops at the station had told her that they thought it was the work of Jack the Ripper.

Guinevere set her jaw, fierce determination welling in her like a fire. She would bring this murderer to justice, for the sake of that woman and all the other women he had killed.

It was time to pay a visit to Sherlock Holmes.

End

A/N - I was thinking about Jack's unreleased route, and how it could potentially go, and I remembered that Jack has a copycat killer in Sherlock's season 2. If they wanted to bring him back, they could pull the route in an angsty direction and try to convince us readers as well as the MC that Jack himself is the killer when in fact it's his copycat.

This particular story would take place before she met Sherlock in the introduction, as stumbling upon a murder would give her the case she intends to bring to him later (the capture of Jack the Ripper).

Also, by putting in scenes with George being able to actually be heroic like the police officer he is (regardless of what Sherlock may say), they could advertise for his route, especially if MC got attached to him after the murder. Should that be the next one after Jack's, of course.

Thoughts?

[lostsummerdayz]

Red Bull Conquest New York & Defend The North: Summer Equinox

Original Date: 07/28/18

Author’s Note: Back into the groove of things, this was the first article since Combo Breaker where I could provide photos, although these photos would not be possible if it wasn’t for one of my closest friends, Devin “Dstyles” Harris, coming in with the clutch. Please support this man. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/photographybydstyles/

Hello Unbroken family! With EVO just around the corner and the memories of CEO long gone in the hearts of those who attended, I wanted to reflect upon this action-packed month for me. While I was unfortunately unable to attend CEO, I had other events on the horizon starting with the Red Bull Conquest Qualifiers. Held in Williamsburg, Brooklyn on July 7th 2018, the event, as the title states, was a qualifying event for a series of tournaments known as the Red Bull Conquest. The Orlando sector of the Red Bull Conquest will be within the upcoming weeks, so please give fellow Tekkener (Tekkener? Is that even a word?) Ando your support as he aims to secure victory for his state!

These tournaments are held throughout the United States with the winners from Tekken, Guilty Gear, and Street Fighter are given an all-expense paid trip to Washington D.C. The winners from these three games will be represented as a team in the finals. For example, Team New York would have Fighting GM representing Tekken, Punk representing Street Fighter, and LostSoul representing Guilty Gear.

           Spoiler alert. My name wasn’t up there. I didn’t make the cut.

But it wasn’t all too bad, in fact, it was more of an investment on how much better I’ve gotten in Tekken. Winning the tournament would have been amazing and a huge upset, but, it was the grind to see how far I’ve come which was my goal. I knew since Combo Breaker I leveled up, yet it wasn’t much that I’ve done since Combo Breaker. I’ve been learning to play with an aura of confidence that I never had much of before. I just needed a venue, an opportunity, to prove myself. Casual matches are one thing, for sure, but in a tournament where everything is on the line? A totally different scenario. This is a point that I will get back to later within my personal recap. Prior to the Red Bull Qualifiers, I’ve never had a victory over a well-known, high-level opponent in a tournament setting.

It was my first match of the day and I would be going up against none other than Pink Diamond, one of Maryland’s best and a dominate force when it comes to the representation of women competitors. Her Master Raven had been known to pull major upsets in the past and overwhelm her opponents through sheer domination. I knew getting into this match this would not be an easy one for me, but I felt something different going into this match that I hadn’t felt before. What I felt when I fought Diamond, was confidence.

When I fought Cade back at Combo Breaker, I was overwhelmed because I burnt out and I wasn’t confident that I could handle playing against a high-level player. I prepared myself through the various casual matches I’ve had with the New York Tekken scene, to go out there and wreak havoc. I didn’t have time to be nervous, I had a game to win. That was the difference. In Combo Breaker, I didn’t think I could win, but in this instance, even if I didn’t win, I was going to try my hardest to make a convincing effort. I did the very best I could. I defeated her 2-1. I would meet her again in losers within a double jeopardy scenario and I would repeat my efforts, again, closing it out 2-1.

Those six matches I fought with her were the toughest wins I ever had in a tournament setting as she lived up to her reputation as a strong fighter. It made the goal of wanting victory even more sweeter. I wanted to defeat strong foes and that weekend I got my wish. Anything else after that was a bonus. Unfortunately, I would eventually lose to an Eddy mirror and I was admittingly distraught. I was at my highest, yet I was humbled and sent back down to Earth. That’s the beauty of fighting games. You can have crowning achievements, then be reminded that anyone can get you at any times, so it’s best not to be complacent. What was even more disheartening, was that I lost to a character who was my pride. My confidence throughout the day was something I didn’t control on the inside because I felt like my Eddy could take on anyone else’s Eddy. I was flexing a bit too hard however.

I had the rest of the event to think about what I did wrong and what I could have done better. I fought the same guy who eliminated me, Holla San, for about an hour even though I lost more matches than I won. I didn’t care. I wanted to play more to figure out what went wrong and it all boiled down to inexperience. You can’t win sometimes. You either have all the experience in the world yet lack of confidence or all the confidence in the world yet lack of experience. Either one of those would be your undoing. Nevertheless, I learned a lot more about my character by playing against someone who was better than me with my own character and 13th place out of 68 wasn’t bad, considering how stacked with talent the tournament was.

Two weeks later, however, was Defend the North and I was going into this major without the best confidence in the world. I wasn’t doing too hot in the smaller tournaments although I was into researching more about potential tech to use for my character. The night before the tournament however, I was ready to go as I felt a burning passion within me that was like what I felt back at Red Bull. Everything came to a full stop, however, when I fought against a surprise entry.

Remember when I said, “playing casuals was different than playing tournaments?” That theory came to bite me in the ass royally. My first match at Defend the North was against my close friend and training partner, Unexcited. I had gotten a bye round but I already knew that I would be facing off against him as my first match. Call it a precognition, but I knew he wasn’t going to lose his first match. He wanted to go against me as much as I did against him.

For starters, it was the first time either of us fought against each other in tournament. We played against each other numerous times in casuals, so much so that we were able to pick up on each other’s ticks and quips. Whatever gimmicks we relied on for our opponents who weren’t used to us, wouldn’t work against each other, and I tried to use some of those tricks against him. He tried to get into my head by picking Jack initially, an obvious counter to Eddy, yet I saw right through. When he went to his main, Gigas, the gloves came off and I had to adjust fast. Unfortunately, it was last round and match point for both of us, and the nerves eventually caught up to me. I made a wrong punish and I paid for it. Again, I was a tad bit salty at myself for my lack of decision making underneath the pressure, but the set could have literally gone either way. For one of the first matches of the day, we put on a show, yet he would emerge victorious with a 2-1 score.

Fighting my way through losers, I was one win away from making it out of pools until I lost to a Bryan, again, due to all the points I’ve mentioned above in my losses so far. Just like how I lost to Holla San and Unexcited, I was distraught with myself for how I played. However, this time around, I simply accepted it and supported the rest of my friends who were still alive. While I’ve had way more confidence in recent weeks since Combo Breaker, I’m coming to terms that you’re going to lose more games than you win. You only really win if you’ve learned something from your losses or make the best use of your time. That struck true for me when I had a chance to commentate the Tekken semi-finals, the top 32 matches, with commentators Derek and, later on, Spooky.

It was something that not a lot of people knew about me, unless you’re at locals, but I’ve always had an interest in commentary. In Helst’s tournaments at iFix Machine, I sometimes offer myself to provide backup commentary to fellow players Professor High Kick and Ninjadogs. I am naturally socially anxious, so I felt the one way to overcome such anxiety is to talk on the mic and go through matches. I figured if I couldn’t be a part of the action as a player, I can still be a part of the action as a voice while supporting my friends.

Being a co-commentator to Spooky made me appreciate what he does a lot more for the scene than I realized. He was knowledgeable on a lot of topics that I never even knew about while I would also give my insight on what was going on. Commentary is another beast to tackle. There’s player knowledge, matchup knowledge, gauging the thoughts of the players as they play, all the while trying to make things sound exciting for the stream viewers. It’s a very difficult job to do consistently, but it’s fun to be a part of the matches in this way, as you coincidentally learn just as much commentating as you do playing the game.

While I was eliminated early, by making 33rd place out of about eighty people, the experience I’ve obtained through commentating, as well as casuals with the people who I played, made me love the game even more. Even through losing you learn a lot, you network a lot, you do what you can to support your scene and your fellow peers. My friend who defeated me, Unexcited, would go on to almost make top 8, and the rest of my friends would also make varying results, from the low end to the high end. In this tournament, Fighting GM would once again win this tournament as he had done so with Red Bull and last year’s Defend the North.

I wanted to end this recap on how far I’ve gotten since earlier this year. I had an idea on what I wanted to do, but I did not have the means to do it. I wanted to use my voice to get the fighting game scene out to more eyes and ears, and so far, I feel I’ve been doing just that. I want to thank the Unbroken family for giving me an opportunity to provide such a gift and with Summer Jam a month away, I now have even more of a reason and an incentive to level up as a player. I will be attending Summer Jam alongside Ando, Frank, and others, where I will be providing coverage on the event and the family, much like how I did for Combo Breaker. Between now and then, through playing at more sessions and soaking up as much knowledge as I can, I plan to go even harder not only for myself, but for my family and the love of Tekken. See you guys in a month! Photo credits go to Devin Harris of Photography by Dstyles (https://www.facebook.com/photographybydstyles/)

Original Article: https://www.teamunbroken.com/featured-article-ck

[baileyrecovers]

Where I was. Pt. 2

IThe first time going to the hospital was scary. I was in the ER for two hours, and I had to repeat my story many times to many different people. In the ER, suicidal or mentally ill patients get a “watcher,” this person literally watches you to make sure you don’t off yourself in the ER. They do not take their eyes off you. The first watcher I had was a middle aged redheaded woman with short hair. She talked to me once, she had a southern, lower-class accent. She asked me, “what brings you here?” After answering that question so many times, I finally just said “Suicide.” She said, “Aww, don’t do that.” She gave me a puppy dog face of fake remorse. “I lost many people due to that.” That didn’t even sound sincere.

They wheelchaired me to down to the mental health unit. I said I could walk, but they insisted. The privacy of the unit and lock downed environment made me anxious. It made me truly believe that I really was crazy. 

I was given my bedroom (single rooms, thank god). I slept really soundly that night. Groups started the next day and I quickly learned I did not like them. They ask you to tell your story, and I was not the most open of person. I felt like everyone was judging me, but I learned that this was the last place I would be judged. I felt a source of guilt after hearing some stories, as many come to the MHU because they thought of suicide, and I actually tried. I never knew thinking of suicide was weird or worrisome, if I had known that sooner, maybe I would have been hospitalized sooner in my life.

My psychiatrist was a real character. It was a small mousy man, with gray blonde hair pushed flat back. He had an air about him that he thought he knew everything. It wasn’t confidence, but more arrogance. He was extremely honest with me. He told me that I intellectualize everything.

“In psychology, intellectualization is a defense mechanism where reasoning is used to block confrontation with an unconscious conflict and its associated emotional stress – where thinking is used to avoid feeling. It involves removing one's self, emotionally, from a stressful event.”

Which in a sense is true. I could not name or face my feelings. I’m getting better at it, but I still struggle. 

The second day I met with him, he couldn’t remember my name, and he said, “You are the raped girl, right?” Well, I suppose yes. That didn’t help me at all, because I also labeled myself the depressed girl, the anxious girl, the crazy girl. And I believed them. To hear that made me ruminate over the events that happened, and I began to feel how worthless and guilty I felt all over again. The MHU acted as an escape from my problems for awhile, as a way to not deal with them, but being locked away brings up its own set of problems, like dealing with an equally crazy psychiatrist.

I felt hidden away, like Anne Frank. Hardly anyone knew where I was, and that was how I wanted it to be. I was so ashamed of being there, it isn’t normal-everyone will think I am unstable-people will judge me, were thoughts running through my head on a consistent basis. They still do at times. 

At this point in time, nothing really stands out ot me about my first stay at the hospital. I knew I didn’t want to leave, as I knew my problems at school were snowballing. They were just getting bigger. I didn’t want to face the real world, so I didn’t push for discharge. I said nothing at all. I guess they took that as a sign that I didn’t want to leave, and they didn’t kick anyone out.

My mom stayed with me that weekend to make sure I was stable. It was a good and bad idea. She helped me straighten a lot of things out, we went out to eat and shop, and she was just present. However, I tried to apologize for everything that had happened. She got really angry at me. She said I hurt her, my thoughts and feelings were not real because I was depressed and they were stupid, and that she would never forgive me for what I’d done. I was bawling my eyes out trying to trust her more and tell her what I felt inside, but she wouldn’t hear it. She would just get angrier. I started to have repetitive movements and muscle tensions. I began to hit and bite myself while she lectured, I pulled my hair, scratched my arms. She told me to stop and “TURN IT OFF,” like I had switch that turned off my depression. But, I couldn’t stop hurting myself that moment, it was a strange sensation. It was like my body was trying to protect itself from her words and thoughts. Or perhaps I was punishing myself for being a bad person. My mother and I have a complicated, at times abusive, and difficult relationship. It is too long to tell now, but we tend to brush off problems without talking or apologizing for them.

Many decisions had to be made about my future at UNI. I had to decide what classes to keep and drop. Lots of pressure was put on me to stay in two classes, but even one class seemed overwhelming. I decided to stay in one course. I had psychiatry planned, therapist scheduled, getting help. I was doing everything right, the one thing I did wrong was delaying admission into the Intensive Outpatient Program at the hospital because I didn’t want to drive, but I guess that backfired in the long run. 

I am also very ambivalent towards treatment. I know I needed help, but I wanted to act and be as ‘normal’ as possible. I still denied I had a major issue and made lots of excuses for myself.

I was put on a drug called Welbutrin. I didn’t have hardly any side effects in the hospital. It helped stabilize my mood. However, when I returned home, I was not able to eat, sleep, and I had weird muscle spasms. I cried all the time again. All of my problems have returned in full force, and it was like I wasn’t on an antidepressant and never received help. Was the week in the hospital a waste of time? I still felt the same level of anxiety and depression, but I convinced myself that changes were going to happen.

One thing that stressed me out was telling my employers who felt like family what had happened to me for a week. I told them something traumatic happened to me, and I needed to get away for awhile. They were very receptive and helpful. I eventually told one of them I was raped. We talked about school and they helped me by finding out more about financial aid and what I should next in terms of classes. They allowed me to stay the night at their house. It was really nice.

I felt really loved by all the support I received from my friends who knew what happened to me and my mom. I had to tell a few more people, which made me anxious. Yet, I felt an underlying guilt. Everyone was constantly checking in on me. Are you okay? Where are you going? What are you doing? How are you feeling? Everyone had advice to give. I welcomed it at first, but it eventually made me worry about how much they worried about me. I’ve always been independent and I hated to make a fuss. I was taking up people's time, and I didn’t feel worthy of that time. I was struggling in one course. I was struggling with wanting to be a teacher. I hated and criticized myself constantly. I never forgave myself for what had happened. I believed that I was worthless, nothing, no one liked me truly or every one was going to leave me, and had no purpose. Everyone had a person they could go to if I killed myself, no one needed me, I was no one’s person, I would eventually be forgotten. I could see the pain and worry on my roommates face every time I brought ANOTHER problem to her attention. She wanted to hear them, but I could see how helpless and stressed she felt. 

I also worried constantly about financial repercussions of taking one class. Money has always been a stress factor. I worried about my mother’s engagement to a guy she has known for a few months and how he was inconsiderate and overstepping his boundaries. It added more fuel to the “no one needs me anymore” fire. I still cried a lot, I often said my body and brain hated me.

I was invited over to dinner by the family I worked for. I was just expecting a pleasant meal and time with the kids. Little did I know, it was also a meeting to talk about my future living plans with them. They simply stated that there were no more future living plans with them, for (potential) financial factors out of their control. I tried to understand why they couldn’t have me live with them, but I was angry and sad. I was angry because they weren’t fighting for me even a little bit, and isn’t that what family did for each other? I wasn’t family, I concluded, which made me feel worse. I already felt bad, but the intensity went up 90%. I was sad because that was the one happy thing I looked forward to, as all my other future plans crumbled. They cherry on top was that they reduced my hours considerably, they didn’t need me much anymore as they said they ‘spoiled’ themselves with me. They gave me a short list of dates and times they needed me that month, which would amount to less than $100. They said they would be a great recommendation to other nannying jobs. But, I was so stuck in my ways and I wanted to be with them so badly because I felt like I belonged in a family for once. They gave up on me, so I gave up on myself too.

I didn’t have anything to look forward to anymore. No one really did need me. I felt numb. I lost everything so quickly in a course of a week. I cut myself that night and kept a knife close to me. I tried to pull myself out of it. I went to class and kept my nose in a book. I went swimming at the WRC, and I thought the activity and exercise would lift my spirits. I was doing everything so right! I was making so much progress some days, I was almost even happy! But it felt like a tight string broke that held so much, the wrong wire was cut in a bomb. I didn’t want to try anymore. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I just wanted to disappear.  I was left with the darkness of my mind. I was my own worst enemy, but the superhero in me wanted it destroyed. 

After swimming, I nonchalantly go into a gas station, buy alcohol with intentions of using it to kill myself. I calmly take it back to my apartment and hide it in my dresser. After talking and lying to my friend about how I was doing because I couldn’t face the guilt of being sick anymore.

I drank some of the alcohol that night and cut myself, but I was too tired to take the pills. Sleeping saved me that night, as it had many nights before that. That morning though, I woke up, canceled a job interview at a Montessori school, and took every prescription pill I had. I took all of my Welbutrin, Paxil, and a few sleeping pills.. Over 50 pills, enough to put me in the morgue. I wasn’t even crying as I was doing it. I was staring into space, not even thinking about how many pills I was swallowing. I kept taking more, and I thought, “well more can’t hurt, can it?” The rest is a blur. But apparently I called the dad of the kids I watched and asked him to tell me happy stories about them. Were they the last concern I had before I completely passed out?  I told him what had happened, and he called an ambulance.