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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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Scuffed Souls

Pairing: Midge Maisel/Lenny Bruce Rating: M Word Count: 2769

Summary: Despite her declared intention to go get herself a taxi, Midge can't seem to leave Lenny's hotel. Parts of it aren't so bad—the ocean view, the pool, Lenny. She could be persuaded into a little recklessness.

It’s the way he says it—“before I’m dead”—that has her twisting on the soles of her new shoes to turn back towards him with an equally twisted smile that can’t fully perk up to the uncomplicated amusement she usually feels when Lenny cracks a joke. It just didn’t sound like one.

And now she’s probably scuffed the black soles on the wretched, fine-pebbled stone of these slabs surrounding the pool of what’s otherwise a really rather sad hotel. He knows it, she knows it, and she can’t blame him for wanting her to come into his room, if only to liven it up for a few minutes. She wonders if anybody’s ever died here. Wait, she thinks, of course they have. It’s a gracelessly aging Floridian hotel. The count for patrons who’ve left unscathed is probably lower.

“Is that a long list?” Midge calls back to him.

Like the melancholy, reluctant romantic he is, Lenny’s still leaning in his doorway, watching her depart. Until a moment ago. Now he’s watching her stand here in kind of a weird realm: the post-date, non-overnight stay who issued a spoken plan to find herself a taxi like a big girl. She’s loitering. Then again, unlike at home in New York, you can do that here. Loiter your heart out. Cross that heart and hope not to die before you’ve slept with the woman whose martial status changes from minute to minute. Roll the dice! No, that’s Vegas.

Even from this distance, she can see Lenny cock his head in that way he has—playfully subservient as a child and publicly tactful as a monied, middled-aged woman. Some days, he could mirror her mother. What a gag that would be.

“Things you wanna do before you’re dead,” Midge explains with a tight gesture of her arm. Just the elbow down. God, is she nervous? She seems to be suddenly doing an imitation of Susie meeting Lenny for the first time.

“Not really. I think of somethin’ good from time to time and, of course, when I do, I can’t find the paper I started the list on and I have to get a new one… so it never really gets that long.”

“I just wondered. You know, how much time I have.”

“The length of the list determines my distance from death? This I did not know. Powerful,” Lenny notes emphatically, producing the same noncommittal smile from Midge. “I guess I better look harder for the next one I lose. Handy thing to refer to.”

“There’s that,” she agrees, “but also…” She takes a step back in the direction of his open doorway. The pool shimmers at her side. He’s right about the pool. Somehow, a pool at night looks glamorous no matter the courtyard. She hopes she looks half as good. “I wonder if there’s sort of an implication in there that—” Midge rolls a modest hand over the crassness she’d have no trouble blurting out on stage, no matter which of her relatives were in the audience. “—the quality of it would extend your life.”

He’s smiling wickedly at her. She’s gotten away with nothing and has no option remaining but to clutch primly at the handle of her purse with both hands.

“If anybody else told me that,” Lenny warns, “I wouldn’t believe them, but you I know to have been engaged to a doctor, and so I assume that any medical information you may have to offer vis-à-vis sex—” Spoken in a harsh stage whisper that nearly makes her (her) blush. “—comes certified by some type of professional board.”

“I didn’t say it was the truth, I said I wondered whether it were what you were implying.”

“Me? Well, you can’t trust that guy. Still, worth chancing, wouldn’t you say?”

Midge’s scuffed soles have brought her many steps nearer to Lenny than she remembers being in lucid command of. She’s slow-tongued as she stares at his impish expression. Flat-out flustered when he tips his head back with a smile to rest it on the doorframe.

“In there?” she asks with eyebrows arching like the next stop on this tour is St. Louis. She points sideways, where his bedside lamp glows. “On one hand, eternal life—on the other, whatever diseases are living in those sheets.”

“Oh, they’re very well mannered,” Lenny assures her with a casual brushing aside motion. “We split the rent fifty-fifty.”

“Hmm, then I’m not sure there’s room for me in that scenario.”

“The shower’s not bad,” he counters.

“Water pressure?”

“No, cleanliness. Haven’t you ever—” He employs the hand roll she should patent if it looks like that when she does it. Elegant. Prudent. Half what she wants to be and the other half what she has no hope of becoming. “—in a shower?”

Because Lenny’s looking at her like she’ll either sidestep (metaphorically—the shoes have suffered enough these past few minutes without risking anything more than a regular forward walk) or say no, she takes very great pleasure in smiling devilishly back at him.

“A shower sounds luxurious. Never done it in a bathroom with a shower before. You look scandalized,” Midge notes. “Do the diners in your neighbourhood have showers in their ladies’ rooms?”

“You had sex in a diner bathroom? I’m impressed,” he allows.

“Thank you. I needed that. I carry every compliment about the encounter back to my closet and console my wedding dress with it. Poor thing never did look the same after rubbing up against those walls.”

“Is this in your act?” Lenny demands, leaning towards her earnestly. “Why haven’t I heard this?”

“Put it in my act? Lenny, please. I’m a lady.”

“Hence the ladies’ room, I suppose.”

She giggles lightly with her lips pressed together. He earned that last line. Set her face on fire to get there, so she’ll let him have it. Speaking of letting him have it. Midge finds herself dropping her eyes so they don’t get into their second intense staring contest of the night. Can’t look straight ahead, can’t look to the right because that’s where his room is and the bed is highly prominent. Almost too eager. The bed is the bump in the front of a virgin’s pants on prom night when his date’s skirt brushes a little too close as they dance. Those crazy kids. Oh, to be young.

Midge looks left.

“The ocean,” she observes, and says, like an idiot. She even does another fucking gesture towards it, like he’d miss it somehow. “It’s… big.” Clever. Real sharp.

“Bigger than in New York? I think so too. Alligators though.”

“It’s ok, you’re talking to a fellow New Yorker. You can use the real term. Pre-handbags,” she prompts when Lenny gives her an inquisitive look.

He lets her have the wrap joke this time, but he’s more persistent about trying to catch her eye. She gets it. She is still standing here making alligator jokes when she was supposed to be in a car on her way back to the type of hotel it would be kinder not to tell this hotel exists. A hotel containing her parents, Shy Baldwin and his entourage, the boxer shorts Susie sleeps in and forgot to pack when she went to save Sophie’s ass. Hopefully Susie doesn’t need to cover that famous, demanding ass because she left the best equipment behind.

Lenny tosses his coat into his room and pulls the door shut, startling Midge.

“How ‘bout the pool?” he asks as he steps around her, arm extended to point. She swivels (damn, damn, damn, her shoes) and chases him. “You ever done it in a pool?”

“Actually, no.”

“I heard the pause and, trust me, I’m enthralled that you even had to think about it.”

“Did I mention I hit my head doing it in the bathroom? Pretty hard. All my memories before that day are hazy, so it’s really anybody’s guess.”

He gifts her an indulgent little smile and stops at the side of the pool. As she looks on, he removes his shoes and socks. Midge hears herself make the noise she makes when she denies Ethan a cookie only to see Zelda handing one over when she returns to the kitchen. The noise says, Is that wise? when her adult mommy brain knows for damn sure that it’s not. Lenny wets his foot and flicks water at her. The mommy noise had no effect on him at all.

“It’s nice,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “Warm.”

“Of course it’s warm. The air’s warm. Everything here is warm.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” When Lenny frowns, it’s tragic. The most tragic thing you’ve ever witnessed. “You see, I’ve been so cold since the end of our dance. I really may die if I can’t hold you against me.”

Midge tilts her head back and laughs.

“You’re worse than the guy I tried to scare off at the bar by mentioning dick jokes. And you’ll die? Really? All of a sudden, I’m the cause of your death rather than the agent of its postponement?”

Though he smiles, his eyes remain soulful. There really is something tricky about trying to be funny when he’s looking at her a certain way. She’s probably returning the look.

“Take a dip with me.”

“Why?” she asks, smiling.

“Because I want to admire you with that rose in your hair without the rest of it to distract me.” He nods down at her dress.

“My outfit is distracting? Terrific. Now I know I wore a distracting outfit on Brye Adler.”

Self-deprecating thoughts trickle away, accompanied by the gentle slosh of the ocean behind them. A rambling, improvised bit about what she’s wearing won’t change the fact that Lenny said what he said and she heard it.

“Are you going to call me a taxi if I keep standing here?” Midge asks.

“I had no intention of reminding you of that plan.” He rests a thoughtful forefinger against his upper lip. “But you do seem to be stuck. You won’t brave the room, but you also haven’t left.”

As though demonstrating how to do it, Lenny crouches and trails his fingers through the water of the pool.

“Still warm.”

He gazes up at her with needful brown eyes. The need feels equal to hers. She’s tired of being the only one needing.

“You have neighbours.” It’s between a question and a statement.

“Ah, they’re all either young and stoned or old and asleep.”

Midge makes a decision.

“Gimme your key. I’m going to change in your room.”

“Change into what? Do you have a bikini in your purse?”

She leans close to snatch the key he’s withdrawn from his pocket for the second time tonight and grins.

“Into nothing.”

Lenny takes a visibly shaky breath, not trying to hide it from her.

“Well, I’ll be here performing the role of guinea pig by stripping for any neighbours who may be watching. Should you hear wolf-whistles…”

“I’ll run right back out and join the audience,” Midge promises.

They smile at each other until Lenny tests the tension by loosening his tie. Her eyes drop to watch and she realizes she’d better go do what she said before he’s naked enough to make her lose her nerve. She hurries, high heels clapping on the stone.

His room isn’t quite as bad as anything she and Susie experienced on their first road tour, but it definitely isn’t anything to write home about. Not that he’d need to, seeing as this is his home ‘til Friday and likely beyond. Standing beside Lenny’s bed, Midge unfastens her dress. For the first time since Joel, she does it quickly. For the first time since splitting up with Benjamin, she does it alone. Beneath the dress, she’s cinched in pretty damn tight and she rubs at the red lines in her skin as she takes deep breaths that she lies to herself about—telling herself it’s the relief of being free of her undergarments. She lays her dress on his coral bedding. She positions her purse on his nightstand. Adjusting the rose in her hair, she slips her feet back into her shoes and dons Lenny’s carelessly-discarded suit jacket. Though it’s no beach coverup, it hides enough to get from here to the pool.

She spots the pile of his clothes before she sees him, head bobbing up through the surface as he slicks his wet hair back and swipes water from his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Midge teases to his stunned expression as he locks onto her approaching figure. “The shoes are coming off momentarily. I know they’re distracting.”

As if he’s even aware that she’s wearing shoes; his eyes are fixed on her legs as though she’s an exotic species of butterfly and his gaze is a mounting pin.

“That’s all I see when I look at you,” Lenny says, arms thrusting to propel himself backwards across the width of the pool. He halts at the far side and rests his arms on the stones, chest above the line of the water. “One big pair of shoes.”

Midge shoots him a coy smile as she steps out of them, wary to avoid treading on his watch. That’s what gets her: his watch. She stares down at it, resting there, the glass face catching the light, second hand ticking away. Before they’re dead.

“Aren’t you going to close your eyes or something?” she asks, standing in bare feet, Lenny’s jacket, and a rose. “Or are you only a gentleman when it comes to sharing a cigarette?”

“For you, I will go through the charade.”

He places a hand over his eyes. His mouth smiles below it.

Watching him, she swiftly sits on the side, dangling her legs in the water. With tentative fingers, she undoes the first button on the jacket. His hand doesn’t move. She undoes the second. Nothing from Lenny. Jacket open, Midge shrugs it from her shoulders. As she pushes off the wall, dropping into the pool, he lowers his hand.

“Hey!” she complains, spluttering on water, but he raises both hands helplessly, then goes back to holding himself up at the opposite side of the pool. “That was a dirty trick.”

“I would repent if I could find it in my heart to do so, but I just don’t regret it.”

Midge laughs, shaking her head and treading water.

“By the way,” Lenny adds. “The rose looks wonderful.”

She managed to keep all but the very bottom of her hair dry and can feel the flower still tucked between the strands. Fleetingly, she thinks of where she’s supposed to be tonight. What would Carole have to say about a situation like this? Maybe Midge can be the one who knows how a situation goes for once, without warnings or tips. Just… living it. That’s how she gets the material for her act, which what’s happening tonight could never be part of. ‘So,’ she imagines telling a crowd, ‘I finally fucked Lenny Bruce. Plenty of people already thought I had, so I doubt anybody’s still betting on it, but if you had money on it happening in a swimming pool in Florida, happy days!’

“Can you see it from way over there?” she asks coquettishly.

“A little.”

“Seeing a rose ‘a little’ won’t do. Do you think Shakespeare only bothered to see a rose ‘a little’ before writing that line about how sweet it smells?”

Lenny shoves away from the side and swims lazily in her direction.

“What does yours smell like?”

“Pool chemicals, probably.”

“An underrated scent.”

Midge’s heart surges and her throat seizes up, tongue awkward in her mouth as he draws nearer. With the glow and distortive properties of the water, his body’s nothing but a blur below the surface, as she’s sure hers is as well.

“It’s like a forcefield,” he notes. “I get close enough to you and, it’s not that the world stops being funny, it’s…”

“It’s that it becomes somebody else’s job to make the joke.”

“That’s it,” Lenny agrees softly as they begin to slowly circle each other.

Gradually, they work their way over to where it’s shallow. Midge’s toes skim the bottom when she begins to uncurl her legs. Her body gets used to the weightless feeling of the water, muscles relaxing, but her heart beats harder and harder. Finally, she cuts across their circle and wraps her arm behind Lenny’s neck as she presses her mouth to his. His hand cups her cheek, then shifts, knocking the rose from her hair.

#my writing #The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel #tmmm #Midge Maisel #Lenny Bruce #Midge x Lenny #the ongoing dick-measuring contest between me and the Palladinos #so what if they aren't aware of it? does that matter?#as a writer I'm really just here to fix the unsatisfying plot points of the Palladinoverse

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chemicallady · 3 years

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Dr and Dr Reid

Part I , Part II.

A/N : Hello everybody! It's me again with the second part of my Dr&Dr series! I hope you will enjoy it! If you like this idea, tell me something about it. If is too boring, I’ll moving on another subject ^^

Couple: Spencer Reid x Researcher!Reader

Category: little angst

Warnings: descriptions of dead bodies and decomposition.

Summary: BAU is involved in a casa in Golconda, Nevada. Reader is an expert in tools' marks for the local FBI settlement and Spencer isn't aware of it.

*****

January 17, 2007

Golconda, Nevada.

After a seven hours trip by car, you are already done. God only knows how are you supposed to work after that. Nevada’s unpleasant weather is drying your lungs breath by breath, while you’re reaching the area under federal surveillance. Your supervisor have asked you to keep the tools’ marks on a dead body in order to determinate the object used on the victim because, if you will be lucky, you eventually use the results for an article or your thesis. If the Feds wont have any problem with that.

The point is that... Well. The victim is not like you have figured out. You are an expert on skeletal remains but in front of you there is a full torso, coverd in tattoos and with a huge wound on the top of the sternal bone. No head, no legs or arms but a lot of dead meat. The view is awful but the smell is the worst. It’s taking your breath away.

You put a hand over your mouth and apologise, but you need a moment. Leaving your kit under the tend, you move some steps along the path and start to breath slowly with your mounth. It's too hot for your first dismembered body, but you can't let go this opportunity. Some agents are already look at you with a glaze of pity and you can't accept it.

You are strong, you can do it.

Or at least you can try, you attended a lot of authopsy before.

Back to the tend, your supervisor is talking with an old man and an awsome guy, both with the FBI badge. You look at them while you're wearing your gloves and this beautiful, fit special agent keeps his sunglasses off and look back to you.

With a blush, you start to work. The coroner gives you the permission to take some photos and apply a paste on the cervical bone and on the broken omerous. You are waiting it to be dry when the two agents approce you.

《 Hi ma'am. I am Special Agent Morgan and this is Special Agent Gideon. Can you tell us which tool was used on the victim?》

《Ah-Well; I need some minutes more but I believe that is more that just one....》 you slow while you're speaking, looking at the guy who are join the party right now. 《....tool.》

Morgan follows your eyes and looks at Reid, who seems to be really surprised by your presence. 《Hi pretty boy, don’t be shy. We are speaking with the expert to find out what was used on this poor guy. She is... I am sorry, I didn't catch you name.》

Because he didn’t ask. You open your mounth to answer but Spence is faster. 《She is (y/f/n). She is a PhD candidate at UNLV.》

《You really know everything . , says a young agent, following him. She is a slim brunette, sassy. You like her at the first sight.

Spencer blushes, 《I met her several months ago.》 He is speaking like you aren’t in there with them and that piss you off a lot. Then finally he speaks to you directly. 《Hi (y/n). Is a pleasure to meet you again.》

You are speechless. 《Yeah, whatever》 you cut the conversation, took off the paste and look at the marks closely. You dont wan’t to meet Spencer’s eyes because the afternoon is too hot and dry to pretend to be nice on him and faking a smile. 《In my opinion the murderer used two tools for dismember the victim's body: a serrated knife and a hand saw. I can be more specific after a visual confrontation if you ask to》

《Thank you miss (y/s/n), you are really helpful.》

Morgan smiles to you and you answer as well, before rise up and go to your supervisor, ready to reach the morgue for working on that traces.

Gideon moves on the car and Spencer is left with Emily and Morgan. 《She hates you》, she says, with a smirk. 《What did you do?》

For the first time in a while, he seems speechles. «Nothing», is the short answer he gives to them. ‘I was an asshole’ would be the real one. Or at last, what he feels.

****

You hear that the criminal- the guy who is called Unsub by the FBI’s agents- had taken a couple of hostages before disappear again. One of them is the sceriff herself. Than, you recive a call from you supervisor, who ask you to go to another location in the nearby, supporting the BAU squad after they clean the scene.

«There are probably human remains involved. Go and check with Supervisor Special Agent Hotchner.»

You start to believe that maybe the FBI needs you or maybe you need the FBI if even the boss is so hot like Aaron Hotchner is. You are young and always look at the bright side, even while you are keeping humans ribs off a lot of handmade garden decorations and it’s so gross even for you. You love Halloween and macabre arts project, but this is too far.

And Spencer is here as well. The two of you don’t have a proper conversation since you have reached Golconda because both of you are working, but now, in the middle of the country side, while you are puking your guts out, on the burned grass of the garden, he is the one who offers help to keep your hair back.

This isn’t you first crime scene, but the best part of your job is working on cold cases, if it’s need. You are a researcher (almost), a lab rat, not an investigator. You are use to bones and sometimes mummies from the desert, not to the harsh smell of blood and rotten meat which infested the shed in the backyard. There is a surgical room and a body inside, but they saved the sheriff at least.

A light breeze is caressing your face and makes you feel better. You are greatful to Spencer when he offers a bottle of water to you.

«When the work comes to the lab it looks nicer», you tell him, receiving a soft smile in return. «If it’s true that I’ll never forget the first time, I’ll be ashamed forever...»

«You don’t have. It’s a normal response of your body in front of a situation which is fondamental -»

«Thank you Spencer. I approciate your scientific enthusiasm, but.... Chill out.»

You sit on the ground, tying your hair and keep a huge breath. «How’s going on?»

«Better. Thank you for the approciation Dr Reid. You should go back to work before your sexy boss notices that you are wasting your time on me.»

«I am not wasting-wait. Did you just say that Hotch is sexy?»

«Hell, he is.»

Spencer looks confused for a moment, after looking around him, maybe to spot the subject of the conversation. That gives you time to reach for a chewing gum on your pocket.

The silence between the two of us is really unpleseant, but you dont have nothing else to say. Is Spencer’s turn and he doesn’t disappoint you. Not at all.

«I know why you are mad at me.»

«Do you know, Dr Reid?»

He sighs. «Can you stop, please? I dont like when you are so formal with me, I believed that we had passed it.»

«Yeah, well. You’ve stopped answer my letters and phone calls without having the decency to give me a solid explanation.... So guess what? We hadn’t passed over anything.»

He lowers his head, aware that he is in the wrong. «I just.... My job is demanding...»

A small, bitter laught leaves your lips. «You really believe that you’re the only one in the world who actually has a demanding job? C’mon you can find a better excuse. If you cared, you’d answered. Aren’t you able to write a message? with... 3 bachelors and 3 PhDs?»

You’re being mean, you know that, but he hurts your feelings. You two had 3 intensive months of letter’s exchange. You wrote the first one a week after you got his address at the conference in Vegas. A four pages letter, in which you explained to him your PhD project and shared with him throughts and stuffs. He replayed with a 14 pages letter. That’s how it started. He told you about his mom’s issues, his scholar experience and how was growing up in Vegas. You shared with him your experinces, moving away from home, how your family is, how you are fond of cats and dogs. You talked about your own pet, with him ...

That’s how you two became intimate.

It escalated fast.

After a month, you gave him your number and the two of you started to call each others, first twice a week, than more and more. Even just to sei ‘hi’ and know about how the other feels in that specific moment. From you, it was enough to hear his voice to be happier.

He helped you in the bad days and made the good days better.

And you fell from him, because Spencer is a nice guy. At least, he looked like a nice guy untill letters and calls stopped. And he disappeared from your life in a couple of weeks. You hadn’t a news from him since ten days before Golconda’s case. The Destiny is involved for sure, because you believed that you wont see him again.

But there you are, sitting next to him. In silence.

Is too much for you. And no, he doesn’t know why you are so mad at him. You are mad at yourself, because you don’t let people in, usually. You were hurt so much in the past that know you are tired of being everybodies fooled.

Guys are nice ‘till they are not, your mom always says.

That’s true. Men are all the same in the end.

That’s why you get on your feet, taking away your gloves. You almost forgot you’re still wearing them. «I need to go back to the morgue. Bye, Dr Reid.»

«Is better this way. (y/n)», he says, in a rush. You look at him standing fast and you rise a elbow. No clue about what he is saying. «Maybe my job is not too demanding for me.. But it will be for you. Trust me. Is better for you not being involved with me... I wasn’t aware that our relationship could be that deep.»

«Relationship? We don’t have anything. This is so stupid and... Selfish!», you almost yell, angry at him because it doesn’t make any sense! You calm down when you feel a glaze on you. SA Morgan is looking at you two, but he immediatly turns away when you notice him. «Have a nice day, Dr Reid.»

He watches you helplessly as you walk away. «Dont say anything», the warns Morgan, who is approching him with a smirk.

«Can I say that she is on fire and you look dumb, pretty boy?»

Spencer sighs, scrolling his shoulders. «It’s a long story.»

«Yeah? Such a pity that we don’t have time. Gideon found our man, we need to move now», he says, before teasing Spencer a little. «You’ll have time for your love business after we close the case.»

«There is no ‘love business’, Morgan. We are... fine. Friends. I guess we were...»

«You sure? That little bird probably thinks otherwise», Mogan says, claps him on the shoulder.

Spencer sighs again, looking you in the car, waiting the coroner to go back to the morgue. For a second, your glazes meet, but you look so... deeply hurt. And he understands that- again- he makes a mistakes on another, just because he wants to preserve someone who is dear to him.

But yes, he has no time now, but he have to apologize to you. And he will.

As long as they close the case.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds ff #criminal minds x reader

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alluringfiction · 3 years

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CLC AS BEVERLY HILLS 90210 CHARACTERS

The series begins with the introduction of the Sajakul family— dad, mom, "B”, and Sorn—who have recently moved from Minneapolis, Minnesota, to Beverly Hills, California, as a result of dad’s job promotion. In the first episode, "B” and Sorn begin attending West Beverly Hills High School, where they befriend several classmates: the self-centered and promiscuous Jang Yeeun, carefree and spoiled "S”, smart and driven Oh Seunghee, ditzy and virtuous Kwon Eunbin, brooding loner "A”, and younger and naive students “C” and "D”. The show follows the siblings as they bear witness and take part in the dramatic lives that their wealthy and privileged peers lead.

Trigger warnings: mentions of death, suicide, addiction, violence, weapons and sex!

"Everyone here looks like they stepped out of a music video. I don't even have the right hair."

wasn't popular at her old school

is desperate to fit in at the new school

naive

makes bad decisions in order to fit in

falls for bad boy "A"

on and off relationship with bad boy "A"

driven and fierce

really wants to impress Yeeun

takes drama classes with Eunbin and Seunghee

works at one time at a posh boutique and her boss mistreats her

is insecure about driving and initially fails her driver's test

her boyfriend "A" eventually lies and cheats

fights with Yeeun when she finds out she's hooking up with her boyfriend "A"

takes self defense classes with her mom and Eunbin

meets a guy that used to be a drug dealer and they get engaged and plan to elope to las vegas

"It's usually those with lofty ideals that are the first to sell them out."

stereotypical spoiled type

carries a lot of pain and leads a promiscuous lifestyle due to a troubled past

bad self-esteem

has a fling with Sorn's boyfriend "A"

is voted the school's most beautiful girl but is sometimes troubled by her own appearance, she thinks people only like her because she's physically attractive

becomes addicted to cocaine after her father disappoints her once again; a guy she's dating at the time is addicted but she manages to get clean

gets trapped in a fire and is tricked into joining a cult

overdoses on diet pills

has a nose job done

majors in psychology and is a lot smarter than people give her credit for

ends up dating Sorn's brother "B" after hooking up with and dating her boyfriend "A"

checks into rehab and meets an unstable girl who ends up moving in with Yeeun

unstable girl takes Yeeun hostage at gunpoint and tries to perform a murder/suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning

gets shot by two gang members after they stole her car and as a result she has to go through emergency surgery and suffers complications

those complications leaves her with temporary amnesia

"I better find a rich guy to marry me."

easy-going and good-spirited but can be quite bold in terms of personality

has sworn to remain a virgin for the foreseeable future

struggles a lot with her insecurities and tries to keep that a secret

rebels by smoking cigarettes, skipping class and hanging out with the wrong crowd

thinks she's stupid when she in fact has a learning disability

comes across as superficial

an art teacher discovers her talent for drawing

dates Yeeun's stepbrother "C"

her boyfriend "C" breaks up with her because she won't sleep with him

is held hostage by a serial rapist and is saved by her ex "C"

eventually gets back together with the ex "C"

works as the weather girl for campus tv and gains an unwanted fan; said unwanted fan turns out to be a stalker

after getting into a minor car accident and hurting her back she becomes addicted to pain killers

overdoses on pain killers and ends up in a coma

marries Yeeun's stepbrother "C"

"Why is it we call a male assertive and a female pushy? Why is a guy tough and a girl a bitch? What would Walt Whitman say about that?"

the editor of the school's newspaper

is very logical and socially awkward

her goal is to win a scholarship to Yale

tutors kids over the summer

according to her love is the meaning of life

exposes the use of steroids on the school's track team

leads the fight against the school's unrealistic sex-ed policy by distributing free condoms

has feelings for Sorn's brother "B"

is involved in a hit and run that leaves her with a broken leg

is accepted into Yale

she's voted "most likely to succeed" during senior polls

she's the valedictorian of her year

marries early and gives birth to a baby girl but the marriage falls apart a year later when both cheat on each other

BUT they decide to stick together because both think their family is worth it

BUT they divorce a few years later

"Well, stick with me. I'll teach you how to be heartless."

cunning, strong, smart

has trust issues

manipulates people and situations in an attempt to run from her own trauma

has a taste for drugs and hard liquor

pressures one of Eunbin's boyfriends into an affair

goes undercover as a prostitute to help a bounty hunter with a divorce case

but it doesn't work and she's arrested

hooks up with another one of Eunbin's boyfriends - "C"

has an affair with a married man

when she finds out that her lover lied about divorcing his wife for her she tells him she's pregnant

and she asks him for 100 000 dollars to stay away from him

she isn't actually pregnant though

eventually returns the money

she can't stand Yeeun

is a hot mess

"I don't know why I always feel so... Just not good enough, not pretty enough... Not blonde enough."

a former olympic-hopeful ice skater

is fired from her position in a touring ice show

grew up thinking she's Eunbin's cousin

turns out she's Eunbin's maternal cousin AND paternal half-sister

tries to bond with their dad

he suffers a fatal stroke while they're working out together

and she's blamed for his death

dates her way through the friend group

first has a sexual relationship with bad boy "A"

when he's paying more attention to Yeeun she moves on to "B"

manipulative

grew up poor

with a mean-spirited, bullying stage mother

is enemies with Yeeun

after leaving town she finds work as a professionally successful skating commenter

#clc #as characters #tw:death #tw:suicide #tw:addiction #tw:weapons #tw:sex #tw:violence

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sellmyhousefastlasvegasblog · 3 years

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Sell My House Fast Las Vegas

How We Buy HOUSES IN LAS VEGAS

To start selling your home for cash, all you have to do is contact us. We buy houses Las Vegas of all types, below we'll go into the steps required to sell your home for cash to us. Step 1: Contact Us Your first step will be to get in touch with us. That can easily be done by filling out our online form above, with your phone, address, and a few other details. Alternatively, you can get in touch with us over the phone too. Once you get in touch, we will provide you with a no-obligation quote for the home based on its description, location, etc. Step 2: Accept Offer Once we give you an offer, it is up to you to accept it. You are under no pressure to accept our offer. It is perfectly fine if you want to take your time to decide or shop around for a better offer. However, it is once you accept that we can start moving on with the process of buying your home and ensuring that you get the cash we offered. Step 3: Meeting Us We like to meet homeowners face to face and take a look at the home. Don't worry. You don't need to clean up the home or repair anything. Our goal here is to meet with you and discuss the next few steps, like when you want to close. We will then make the required arrangements to close the sale ASAP. Step 4: Closing Sale Once the sale for your home closes and the title is transferred over to us, we will give you the cash amount that was offered earlier. At this point, you can walk away with the entire amount. We take care of any closing fees and other expenses relating to the sale. That means you walk away with 100% of what we give you.

We buy houses in Las Vegas regardless of your situation. Here are a few benefits of selling your home to Alex Buys Vegas Houses: You don’t have to spend time and effort on repairing or cleaning the property You save up to 6% on real estate agent commission upon sale You also save around 4%, which is the average closing cost You are saving on holding costs as well as property taxes No need to waste time and effort on trying to find an agent, staging the home, and hosting open houses No risk for the seller not qualifying for a mortgage We typically close within 30 days, if not sooner We can afford to buy your home outright, so there is no time wasted going back and forth

We make a fair all-cash offer and close when you want. In fact, we’ve helped dozens of people across Vegas who were otherwise going through stressful times in their lives, and we can help you.

Unlike other companies that buy homes we cash, we don’t just see your home as another address and you as another lead. You matter to us as a person, and that’s why we are here to truly help you through whatever situation you are facing. We have over the years helped many residents of Vegas break free from owning a home that has been nothing but trouble for them.

Our Experience Sell Your Las Vegas Home to Leading Vegas Home Buyers We are one of the most experienced homebuyers in Vegas, having purchased dozens of homes estimated at over a million dollars. We have a track record of making generous offers and believing in the story behind each home. In fact, we work hard to complete and close a sale as soon as possible, once the owner agrees to our offer.

Our no-obligation cash offer stands anytime you are ready to sell. You can choose to sell your Vegas home at any time you decide and our offer will stand. In fact, why not get an offer today?

We Address The Most Complex Real Estate Issues with Your Las Vegas House Our goal is to help you regardless of the situation. In fact, we urge you to check out a few testimonials from some of the homeowners we've worked with in the recent past. Every testimonial is real; the situations these people faced were real and, in some cases, heartbreaking. That's why you can trust us to help you regardless of how difficult you think the issue might be.

We buy all types of homes, we understand why you want to sell that's why you don't have to spend a dime on them to start selling. Our team uses their knowledge and experience to help your family get out from under in just about any situation. If anything, we hope that our generous and fair cash offer for your house in Vegas will help you right away. We are here for you, regardless of how difficult or complex the situation might be for you. How Do I Sell My House Fast Las Vegas? Want to sell a house in Vegas? We have made selling your home in Vegas very easy. Unlike selling your home using the conventional route, which often requires that you jump through numerous hoops and are still uncertain if the home will sell for a fair price, we make a fair offer right away.

When you sell your home to us, there is no need to spend on repairs, realtor commissions, appraisals, closing costs, or trying to wrap your head around taxes. In fact, we handle everything and aim to close within 7-days. Nobody closes as fast as we can, making us the fastest cash for home buyers you can sell to.

One of the biggest sources of frustration when selling a home for most owners is knowing that they will get paid. Usually, an individual buyer will need to secure a mortgage from the bank, which can take time, and even once approved, it does not mean that the mortgage will get paid right away. So, you can really end up having to wait a few weeks before getting paid. That's on top of how long it takes to sell your home in the first place. Furthermore, you probably will never run into a buyer willing to pay cash for a home.

That's why the best and easiest way to sell your home quickly and without a hassle is to us. Get in touch with our team to get an offer right away, or fill out our form above for a quick no-obligation offer.

We Buy Houses As-Is in Vegas When selling a home through a realtor or when the home is for sale by the owner (FSBO), it is imperative to make sure that your bathroom, kitchen, in addition to the rest of your home, is up to date. You'll also want to make sure that the plumbing, drainage, electrical system, and your roof are in the best condition. All of this takes time and money, something which not every seller has. That's why putting a home on the market to sell isn't for everyone, even if you do stand a chance to get a slightly better offer.

Fortunately, when you sell to us, there is no need to spend money on repairs or even cleaning the home. We buy homes as-is; it does not matter what condition it is in, we'll most probably buy it. However, it goes without saying that homes in better condition will and often sell for more money, but if you can't afford to spend on upgrades or updates, there is no need to sell to us. We Are Dedicated to Serving Homeowners in Vegas We have a dedicated team and work to invest in real estate across the city. However, we think that the city of Vegas is in particular need of help, especially folks who are stuck with homes that they are unable to sell. Unfortunately, many real estate companies and investors look past the homeowner who badly needs to get rid of their home because it has become a liability.

While we are dedicated to helping homeowners, in fact, it is our primary concern. We are also businesspeople. That means the homes we buy have to turn a profit for us after we've invested in repairs and other expenses. That's why we buy homes in our experience that helps the homeowner and ourselves as investors turn a profit.

Sure, it is possible to sell your home via a real estate agent. A real estate agent is professional and with often years of experience. However, they can't sell every home unless it is in a market where the demand for homes outstrips supply; unfortunately, that isn't the city of Vegas. That's why many homes remain on the market for months with no results. If you have tried by putting your home on the market, you know exactly what we are talking about. Even after spending all that time and money, there is no guarantee that the home will sell. We buy houses in Las Vegas, regardless, of it is in good condition, what's important to us is that you own the property and are willing to sell for the offer we make.

When you sell the home to us, we are taking a major risk and absorbing any problems that come with owning the home. There are several risks for us which include bad tenants, poor condition of the property, a rodent infestation, etc. However, as real estate investors, we have a pretty good idea of what needs to be done. Plus, we have access to the required investment to ensure that the property can be brought back to the shape it should turn a profit.

Whether you have a home that dates back several decades, or one that was recently in a fire, or perhaps a home that's about to foreclose, we can help you! Get in touch with us today.

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sellmyhousefastlasvegas · 3 years

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Sell My House Fast Las Vegas

We Buy Houses in Vegas for Real Cash Sell Your House Fast in Las Vegas – In Just 7 Days! We give you a guaranteed, Fair All Cash Offer for Your Home. We take care of all costs. Get more money in your pocket. Close when you want. Start by completing this form below. We Help You Stop Foreclosure in in Las Vegas, NV

Are you faced with one or all of the following situations?

•A divorce

•Trying to avoid foreclosure

•Have liens or judgments on the home in Vegas

•Are you dealing with having lost a loved one?

•Own a house that's been sitting there vacant for a long time

•A house damaged in a recent minor fire

•Don't want to pay realtor commissions?

•Want to relocate to another city, perhaps?

•The house needs repairs you can't afford?

•You need cash fast!

We buy houses in Las Vegas regardless of your situation. We make a fair all-cash offer and close when you want. In fact, we've helped dozens of people across Vegas who were otherwise going through stressful times in their lives, and we can help you.

Unlike other companies that buy homes we cash, we don't just see your home as another address and you as another lead. You matter to us as a person, and that's why we are here to truly help you through whatever situation you are facing. We have over the years helped many residents of Vegas break free from owning a home that has been nothing but trouble for them.

Here are a few benefits of selling your home to Alex Buys Vegas Houses:

•You don't have to spend time and effort on repairing or cleaning the property

•You save up to 6% on real estate agent commission upon sale

•You also save around 4%, which is the average closing cost

•You are saving on holding costs as well as property taxes

•No need to waste time and effort on trying to find an agent, staging the home, and hosting open houses

•No risk for the seller not qualifying for a mortgage

•We typically close within 30 days, if not sooner

•We can afford to buy your home outright, so there is no time wasted going back and forth

Sell Your Las Vegas Home to Leading Vegas Home Buyers Our Experience…

We are one of the most experienced homebuyers in Vegas, having purchased dozens of homes estimated at over a million dollars. We have a track record of making generous offers and believing in the story behind each home. In fact, we work hard to complete and close a sale as soon as possible, once the owner agrees to our offer.

Our no-obligation cash offer stands anytime you are ready to sell. You can choose to sell your Vegas home at any time you decide and our offer will stand. In fact, why not get an offer today?

How Do I Sell My House Fast Las Vegas? Want to sell a house in Vegas?

We have made selling your home in Vegas very easy. Unlike selling your home using the conventional route, which often requires that you jump through numerous hoops and are still uncertain if the home will sell for a fair price, we make a fair offer right away.

How Cash Home Buyers in Vegas Works? To start selling your home for cash, all you have to do is contact us. We buy houses Las Vegas of all types, below we'll go into the steps required to sell your home for cash to us.

Step no. 1 – Contact Us

Your first step will be to get in touch with us. That can easily be done by filling out our online form above, with your phone, address, and a few other details. Alternatively, you can get in touch with us over the phone too. Once you get in touch, we will provide you with a no-obligation quote for the home based on its description, location, etc.

Step no. 2 – Accept Our Offer

Once we give you an offer, it is up to you to accept it. You are under no pressure to accept our offer. It is perfectly fine if you want to take your time to decide or shop around for a better offer. However, it is once you accept that we can start moving on with the process of buying your home and ensuring that you get the cash we offered.

Step no. 3 – A Face to Face Meeting

We like to meet homeowners face to face and take a look at the home. Don't worry. You don't need to clean up the home or repair anything. Our goal here is to meet with you and discuss the next few steps, like when you want to close. We will then make the required arrangements to close the sale ASAP.

Step no. 4 – Closing the Sale

Once the sale for your home closes and the title is transferred over to us, we will give you the cash amount that was offered earlier. At this point, you can walk away with the entire amount. We take care of any closing fees and other expenses relating to the sale. That means you walk away with 100% of what we give you.

We Are Dedicated to Serving Homeowners in Vegas We have a dedicated team and work to invest in real estate across the city. However, we think that the city of Vegas is in particular need of help, especially folks who are stuck with homes that they are unable to sell. Unfortunately, many real estate companies and investors look past the homeowner who badly needs to get rid of their home because it has become a liability.

Whether you have a home that dates back several decades, or one that was recently in a fire, or perhaps a home that's about to foreclose, we can help you! Get in touch with us today.

Give Us a Call to Get Your Cash Offer Getting a cash offer for any home has never been easier. In fact, it takes just a few hours to get an offer from the time you fill out the form. If you want to sell the house quickly and need to move within days, make sure to mention it in the form. Our team will then work with you accordingly to ensure that we can close the sale in the shortest time possible.

Contact us today, and we'll not only give you a cash offer for your home in Vegas but can also help you decide if selling to us is the best option for a person in your situation. Our consultation is free and comes with no strings attached.

1 note · View note

purplesurveys · 3 years

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1165

survey by xxbieberburnham

A - Accidents

Have you ever been in a car accident? Very minor ones that only caused small dents, and nothing that wrecked either car or put someone in the hospital entirely.

Do you have a lot of scars? I have some, not a lot.

Have you been in a fist fight with someone? Nope.

Have you ever seriously hurt someone by accident? I remember striking my ex in the face accidentally while we were horsing around. She was wearing glasses at the time so she ended up getting a cut in the area in between her eyes.

Have you ever had stitches? No and like I always say, I hope I’ll never need to get them.

B - Beauty

Would consider yourself beautiful? Not beautiful, but I will feel pretty on some days. Not always, though.

Are you self consicous of how you look? These days not so much, because I don’t even get to go out in the first place and there’s been little need to fix myself up most days unless I’ll get on a video call for work. I don’t get self-conscious around my family either.

Do you wear a lot of make up? I never wear makeup.

Would you ever consider getting plastic surgery? Nope. I considered having my breasts done when I was a teenager, but the thought literally never crosses my mind anymore.

What do you think makes a person beautiful? Physically, I think it differs per person. More than that, it’s the things they do when no one is looking.

C - Consequences

What is the longest you've been grounded for? Maybe around a year? Due to issues at home and, honestly, poor parental skills on my mom’s end, I ended up being a rebellious problem child and wasn’t the easiest to temper or raise.

What would you do if you became pregnant? Keep it and try to seek support from family and friends.

Do you ever think about how your actions affect people? Always a people pleaser, y’all. Of course I do.

What do you think is the worst punishment someone could give you? I guess anything that involves taking away basic essentials, like cutting off access to food and water.

What is one thing you wish you didn't do because it wasn't worth it? Stayed in a relationship that I knew was going to end at some point. She always made it clear she’d end it one day and I was just too afraid of confrontation to face it sooner (and too stubborn to handle the truth).

D - Dealing

When you're mad at someone how do you show it? Cold shoulder.

Name a time when you had to be strong. The week of my grandfather’s death, wake, and cremation was on the same week of my entrance examinations for several universities, including the two toughest ones. I had already been in the headspace to just focus on the exams and shut out everything else for the meantime then the death happened, so my life turned into a rollercoaster of emotions quickly. I ended up entertaining relatives and fervently going through my review modules at the wake.

Have you ever dealt with divorce? Well I’ve never been married and I also live in a country where divorce is illegal, so no.

When people don't accept you, how do you react? It will definitely affect my self-esteem to an extent. I imagine being bothered by it.

Have you ever lost someone to death? Yes. Just yesterday I found out one of grand uncles did from Covid. We are very close with that side of the family, so I am still in shock and have yet to process it.

F - Family

Is there anyone in your family you don't talk to? I barely talk to one of my uncles and only do so when we greet each other at family gatherings. Still, I haven’t looked him in the eye for years now.

If you had to choose: friends or family? Probably my friends.

Do you have any siblings? Yes.

How often do you spend quality time with your family? Pretty regularly now with Covid still on the loose. We have dinner together every night, then after that we usually hang out in the living room doing our own thing. Also breakfast on weekends.

G - Growing

How tall are you? Do you wish you were taller or shorter? I’m around 5′1″. I’m fine with this height.

Do you think you've grown up in the past year? So much. I think my surveys show that too.

Do you think you're mature for your age or still childish? I want to say I’ve matured in some ways, but I don’t think I’m fully there yet. For one, I’m still scared to learn how to cook lol and I can’t even light up a match.

Are you scared to think that one day you'll turn 30, then 40 & 50? Sometimes I’ll get in those moods because it makes me realize how fast life is and how quickly people turn old. But I hate getting stressed and mulling over things I can’t control, so I also immediately return to the present and just enjoy where I am now.

Do you believe you still have a lot to learn? I’m barely in my mid-20s, so I know that for a fact.

H - Hope

Love - real or not? I want to say it’s still real. Some people just get lucky early, I guess.

Are you a pessimist or an optimist? Realist.

Do you believe in fate or that everything happens for a reason? I believe whatever things that happen are consequences of, or are at least linked to, what’s happened in the past – wherever that falls under.

Do you believe that after we die, your spirit is still alive? I don’t believe in spirits, so no.

What gives you hope when you just feel like dying? My next paycheck. Hahahaha

I - Idols

Who is your idol? I don’t have any.

What makes this person an idol to you?

Has this person done anything good to help other people?

Does this person have good style?

What does this person do for a living?

J - Jokes

Tell me an inside joke between you and your friends. “Packs a punch” is one of mine and Angela’s long-standing inside jokes. I think I’ve shared this story before, but basically in one lunch break in high school I was tasting this juice that one of our friends brought; I remarked that it “packs a punch” which no 16 year old Filipino student uses in a casual setting, so it quickly became a hit in our circle and now Angela brings it back semi-regularly to tease me.

Are you usually the person to make people laugh or the other way around? It’s mostly the other way around but occasionally I’ll be able to blurt out a joke that ends up working well.

Do you cry when you laugh hard? Haha yes. That’s the best kind of laugh.

Do you get in trouble for laughing or talking in class? Almost never. I hated causing trouble, and if I was ever called out in class it was always a classmate talking to me that I was just too shy to ask to keep quiet.

Are you good at making jokes? Depends on the person. I hold back if necessary.

K - Knowledge

The prupose of school: learn, hang with friends or cause trouble? Learn and gain new experiences, then gain friends.

Do people refer to you as dumb, smart or average? I dunno, you’ll have to ask them.

What kind of grades do you usually get? I mostly bummed around in high school just because I didn’t think grades from that early on in life wouldn’t matter in the long run, but I still did well enough to pass all my classes. I exerted a lot more effort in college since that’s when educational backgrounds start to matter, and got even better results from there.

What is your favorite subject to learn or talk about? History.

L - Love

Are you currently in love? Nope.

Do people around you show a lot of love? The people in my life who’ve chosen to stay, yes.

Is love worth it? Not always, but yes, mostly.

Do you hate it when people say "I love you" & they've been dating for a day? It might confuse me a bit since I personally don’t take that phrase lightly; but I wouldn’t be one to judge.

Does it take a lot for you to say you love someone or is it just a word? Like I said, it takes a lot for me to be able to say it. The two times I dated my ex she was always the one who ended up saying it first.

M - Money

Do you believe money makes the world go round? Yes, and that it can buy happiness.

How much money do you have on you now? I’ve been using paper money less and less frequently now, actually. I’m all cashless these days, so my wallet is literally all out of bills and the coins there are probably just piled-up centavos I’ll never use.

Are you saving up for anything? My birthday treat. I already somewhat failed lolol - I got BTS coffees, Ivy Park shoes, and four boxes of wings just this week, but I told myself I am no longer touching my bank account until it’s time to pre-order food for my birthday.

Would you rather win 1 million dollars or find true love? Give me the million dollars. 50 million pesos would last me like ten lifetimes.

On a scale 1-10, how important is money to you? 10.

N - Nothing to lose

Would you ever go on a game show? If it’s a game show I enjoy watching, like Jeopardy or Family Feud. I might not be interested if it’s anything else I’m not too familiar with.

Do you play the lottery? Never.

Ever been to Las Vegas? Nope.

Have you ever made a bet and then lost? Nah, I don’t really make real bets; I just use the saying with my friends but we never follow through with real money.

Do you give your all in a relationship? To a fault.

O - Openess

How long does it take you to open up with someone? It depends on how long it takes for me to be comfortable with them...some people can seem standoffish, so I’d be wary about opening up about my life to them out of shyness and uncertainty if they’d be down for such a conversation. Then others can be rays of sunshine who are very easy to talk to.

What does it take for you to fully trust someone? If they’ve proven to be reliable in crises. I’ve always said I’m more of a follower than a leader, so if I see that someone’s capable of handling any sort of issue that I can’t find a way out of, I will find it a lot easier to start trusting them.

Do you trust people too easily? Probably.

Are you comfortable with everyone? Definitely not. I like keeping my circle small.

Do you tell your parents and friends everything? Just my friends.

P - Positive

Is your outlook on life positive or negative? I like to keep it positive but still grounded to reality at the end of the day. I don’t wanna drag myself down with my mindset, but I also don’t want to give myself exuberantly high expectations.

Have you ever had a moment with someone & it didn't end positively? I’ve had very few negative one-off experiences with some strangers, but yes, they’ve happened.

Do you agree with: best to have loved than never loved at all? As negative as my experience turned out to be, I still think it’s better to experience love. I grew up in a lot of ways and also learned new things about myself because I loved.

Do you see most things as negative or positive? Idk, depends on how they realistically look like.

Has anything bad happened but something good came from it? Yes.

Q - Questions

When faced with a problem, do you solve it on your own or ask for help? Ask for help.

Do you like to take quizzes? Maybe not quizzes but surveys.

If you could ask the president one question, what would it be? When he plans to stop being a disgusting misogynist pig. And also if he has an actual Covid response action plan because I am not seeing anything fucking moving in the last year.

When someone does something wrong do you ask them about it or let it go? Depends on how close I am with them, or how attached I am to the issue.

Do you own plaid shorts? Not shorts but skirt, since I had to wear a school uniform in my old school and our school skirt was plaid.

R - Respect

How do you show respect for someone? I talk nicely about them, even (and especially) behind their backs. I also refuse to act or talk like a superior around them.

What can someone do to lose respect for them? If their stances on politics and certain advocacies are questionable; if I see them treating any employee under any industry shittily; and if they excessively badmouth people behind their backs.

Do you respect your parents, teachers or authority? Yeah. I’m afraid of getting into trouble and being reprimanded, and I always like looking good in superiors’ eyes so I’ve always been a bit of a goody two shoes.

If you're disrespectful to your parents, whats your punishment? I’m 23, have a full-time job, and give them a portion of my salary twice a month so they know they can’t really do anything about it anymore lmao. I’ve definitely noticed they’ve cut back on sermons directed to me. The most that can happen these days is that I would get a mild scolding, but that’s it.

If someone is mean to you, are you mean back? Of course, but I do it very passive-aggressively. I want to make sure I get the last laugh.

S - School

If you're still in school, what grade will you be going into? Not in school anymore and no plans to apply for a postgraduate course any time soon.

When will you graduate high school/college? I graduated high school in 2016, college in 2020.

After high school, what do you plan on doing? I went straight to college, as is the common practice here.

Do you like or hate school? I honestly enjoyed it for the most part; the only thing I really had a problem with was the demanding schedule and workload – back in college, I frequently had classes at 7 or 8:30 AM (which required me to start driving by 5 or 6 AM) and then I had extracurricular activities that would end at 10 PM at the very latest; meaning I was usually in my university for 17 hours every weekday.

The upside to all of this is that I got to attend my dream school and was surrounded with my close friends, so despite the taxing schedule I have little to no complaints about my college experience, even in retrospect.

Have you ever been expelled or suspended? Never.

T - Temptation

Have you ever done something wrong but inside it was okay? Sure, I’ve definitely had my sneaky moments. Some of them I felt guilty doing and decided I’d never repeat, like cheating on a test; some of them I felt like needed to be a part of my youth years to enjoy life a little bit more and so I was ok doing them, like skipping classes to go see my girlfriend at the time or hang out at a bar with friends.

Has anyone ever pressured you to smoke or drink? I never like using the word pressured because my friends were nothing but. They did invite me to try out drinking and smoking, but they never forced me to do anything I was uncomfortable with. My decisions were always mine to make at the end of the day.

Did you ever cheat on someone? Never.

Do you give into temptation easily or are you independent? I think I’m a good balance of it? like I will say I’m influenced easily, but I still have the self-restraint to refuse things I’m adamant about avoiding.

U - Unique

Do you do a lot of things because your friends are? That’s the case sometimes, but not for all.

Do you follow trends or do whatever you want? Again, I can be both. It’s nice to like things that can be my own thing, and it can also feel cool to follow trends because it’s easier to relate to others who are into the same things.

Do you give in easily to peer pressure? No.

What makes you different from people your age? I dunno if there is anything that sets me apart. You’d have to ask other people.

V - Value

What's the most expensive thing in your room? Right now, probably the laptop I was given by my employer for work. I never use it though because my laptop works just fine, and I’m already used to how my own laptop works like and feels like; I have little time to get accustomed to a new laptop, given how hectic my work schedule is. It’s also an older MacBook Pro model, so I don’t want to use it even more than it’s already been used by past employees. I had to sign some contract that basically tells me I have to pay for it if I ever do some damage to it, and the current value is a little above P50,000.

What's more valuable: your life or the ones around you? Others’. But I’m also slowly learning to value my own as well.

What's something you value? Not because it’s expensive but it means a lot? Handwritten letters and notes from friends. Ever since I got a corkboard for Christmas last year I’ve been saving up the ones I’ve received and putting them up on the board; I hope to one day fill it up.

If there was a fire in your house/apartment what would you grab? Kimi. Someone else in the family is in charge of Cooper.

Do you think the past or future is more valuable? I think the present is, actually.

W - Wishes

If you had three wishes, what would they be? A sushi platter, a box of macarons, and my bank account replenished hahaha.

Would you rather wish yourself to be happy or others? Again, others’.

Do you believe that wishes come true if you really believe? Sure, but you also have to do something about them if you really want them to come true. Things won’t always come your way.

Have you ever had a wish come true? Yes.

Do you find wishing on things to be a waste of time? Not really; it makes me feel hopeful and gives me a reason to keep doing the things I’m doing.

Y - You

Are you more independent or social? Social. I love being around people. But I also like recharging by myself.

What's something that makes you mad when you see it? Animal abuse, more than anything.

Do you have potential to do anything you want? I hope so.

Do you believe people are born a certain way? No.

What color are your eyes? Dark brown.

Z - Zest

Are you currently happy with your life? I could be doing more if the pandemic wasn’t around, to be honest. But given how much has happened and what I’ve been through, I’m still happy with what I have for now.

When change occurs, do you get scared? Yeah, I’m very resistant to change and I try to avoid or outright deny it as much as possible. I know it’s a problem point of mine that I have to fix.

Do you like to try new things or meet new people? Try new things, yes always. Meet new people, not all the time.

What is the most motivational thing on earth? Money.

Do you have a motto? Nope.

Last questions

Do you hate how the letters on the keyboard aren't in ABC order? No, I’ve long been used to the QWERTY order and never found myself complaining about it either at any point.

Do you drink water? ...What?

What did you have for breakfast? I skipped it today, but this morning I did have a box of these chocolate Korean snacks that was part of the ~care package~ she had sent over to my house last Thursday.

Do you like convertibles? They’re cool. I don’t need to have one of them, but they look nice.

Do you like the American or British way of spelling words? I don’t have a preference in the sense that I dislike one of these, but I tend to follow American spelling.

What colors are on your country's flag? Blue, red, white, and yellow.

Can you skateboard? Nope, I haven’t even tried getting on one.

Do you like long hair? Sure, but not too long.

Do you like Fiber One bars? I’ve never tried them but judging from the name I doubt they would be favorites of mine.

What does your sleeping bag look like? I never need to use a sleeping bag, so I don’t have one.

Do you like to save your results after a survey? Yep, which is why I opened a Tumblr for it.

Do you like Sour Patch Kids? Just some flavors. I leave the other ones because I find them too sour for my liking.

If you could have your own show, what would it be about? Fooooooooooood triiiiiiiiiiiiiiip.

Ever rode on a jet? Not yet.

#survey #surveys

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mwolf0epsilon · 5 years

Note

Out of curiosity, what are your favorite companions out of all of the Fallout games, and why?

Fallout

The Original Dogmeat (After looking into it, it feels like this ornery dog had a lot more personality than the available human companions, enough so that he made a comeback in FO2.)

Fallout 2

Goris (A sentient and intelligent albino deathclaw scholar that wears a robe to hide his appearence from trigger happy assholes. What's not to like? Goris is an interesting character and I hope there will be another deathclaw companion in a future game!)

K-9 the Cyberdog (Cyberdogs are cool. Talking Cyberdogs with good moral compasses? Even better! Super pissed the NCR ended up destroying him to gather Intel on the Enclave. That's something I'd expect from the BoS instead, and it's left a bitter taste in my mouth. Rest in peace you poor pup.)

Fallout 3

Butch Deloria (He was an asshole and a bully during his and the Lone Wanderer's childhood, but you can't deny he isn't loyal to a fault. He's still a bit of an asshole with an unobtainable greaser teen dream, but honestly he's not that bad considering he was neglected as a child thanks to his mother's alcoholism. If you scratch his back he'll definitly scratch yours, even if he pretends he's not a goody-two-shoes like you. Plus he can give you a haircut, who wouldn't want a personal barber out in the Wastes?)

Charon (His situation is an uncomfortable moral conundrum since he's basically a brainwashed slave by anything but name. Oxhorn put it best in his video on Charon's situation, and I agree that the only good thing you can do for him is buying his contract and doing good out in the Capital Wasteland with him as your companion, as a form of atonement for any past shady/cruel actions his former employers have had him perform.)

Fawkes (A super mutant who may or may not have been a man named Shelton Delacroix, Fawkes is unfortunate in the sense that he was alienated by his fellow vault-tec security officers for having a conscience, and then alienated by his super mutant kin for being uniquely intelligent and kind. To add to these tragedies, Shelton was apparently married so Fawkes has a wife he can't recall who is either dead or a mindless super mutant herself.)

Dogmeat the Second (A loyal heterochromatic cattle dog who would fight to the death if just to avenge his fallen master. Dogmeat is a scruffy scavenger and definitly man's best friend. You have to wonder if he might be a descendant of the Original Dogmeat with just how strong his personality comes off. Some dogs in the wasteland are definitely smarter than others.)

Fallout: New Vegas

Arcade Ganoon (A gay mess of a doctor with social anxiety and a lot of personal demons related to his origins. Arcade is an intelligent and interesting character in the sense that he has a deep-seated desire to help everyone, but knows the consequences of one's ideals outgrowing the needs of others. He's grateful to the Enclave Remnants's loyalty to him and his mother, after his father passed away, and he definitly considers them his family. That in itself is an issue because the Enclave's sins will follow and haunt him for the rest of his life, even if he was just born into that life and not one of the people commiting atrocities.)

Craig Boone (His story is the typical wasteland hardened ex-soldier. He committed atrocities that left him mentally scarred and suffering from PTSD, lost his wife who was the only good thing in his life, his need to avenge her has left him dangling between cold-blooded killer and decent human being, and on top of that he's a bit of a cynical asshole. Still a pretty cool companion to have around, and honestly it feels nice to have him around doing some good for the Mojave wasteland instead of stewing in his depression and self-hatred. His sniping skills could help a lot of people with the Courier's encouragement.)

Lily Bowen (She's a super mutant elite spy soldier. She's also a sweet old granny with schizophrenia and a murderous imaginary friend. Lily is another tragic character who's story pulls at your heartstrings, and the three choices regarding her meds are another moral conundrum. Again I'd recommend Oxhorn's video on her story, since I wholly agree with his assessment on what choice is actually the best for her.)

Rex the Cyberdog (His background before he joined the Kings is shrouded in mystery, with the Legion's faded mark painted on his armour platting. Rex is a loyal pup with a hate for rats, hats and people who wear hats. His greatest ire is probably reserved for rats with hats. His recruitment story arc is also pretty interesting and it definitely affects his personality and endings. If you have Old World Blues and construct Roxie the Cyberdog he even becomes a father of a litter of "Boston terrifiers"!)

ED-E (Honestly it's my love for robots that make this little damaged travel companion so appealing. His mission is interesting, and the cashe of Enclave Intel he holds can be benefitial, but most of his endings point to ED-E continuing his journey eventually so there's a sadness with letting this little guy go if you get attached.)

Fallout 4

Preston Garvey (All Preston has ever wanted to do was help make the Commonwealth a better place for people to live in. He's a selfless man who joined a militia at age 17 to do some good, and it honestly breaks my heart that the Minutemen collapsed as hard as it did. Preston had to watch as the ideals of the Minutemen were crushed underfoot by a bunch of selfish assholes, along with an entire settlement of innocent people. He did everything in his power to keep the only four survivors safe and alive, and he's clearly traumatized, depressed and suicidally throwing himself at danger because he'd rather die fighting the good fight than caring for his own safety. He puts everyone else above himself and it infuriates me that people are so hellbent in painting him off as a bland character or a pest. Oxhorn puts it best in his profile of Preston.)

X8-88 (The Institute's top of the line Courser, the closest the Commonwealth will ever get to the Terminator, and livable despite his cynical remarks and persistence that he's incapable of emotions or attachment. It saddens me that X6 is only obtainable if you follow the Institute. It also pains me that if you do manage to befriend him and destroy the Institute, you're destroying this loyal synth's only home. You're basically stripping away everything he knows and believes in, inherently doing what the Institute has done to the Sole Survivor: Taking their life away from them. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth...)

Nick Valentine (Moral conundrums are painful. Ethical conundrums are just as bad. Nick didn't deserve anything that happened to him, and it's obvious he struggles with his identity and purpose but chooses to follow in the Original Nick's footsteps to do some good, rather than hide away and mope. He's a good person overall, even if he's a bit of a smartass sometimes. He's the perfect robodad for anyone in need of a fatherly figure in the Commonwealth.)

John Hancock (This man has a lot of emotional baggage and has made a LOT of bad choices, but if there's anyone you can trust to be loyal and helpful out in the wastes, it's definitly Hancock! His crude humour and liberal use of drugs and knives to deal with his problems can be a bit off-putting, but Hancock will defend you no matter what. Heck, he would even defend Danse from the BoS and the guy's a racist dickbag to him from the very moment they meet. That says a lot about his character.)

Codsworth (He waited for the Sole Survivor to return. For 200 fucking years. Please be kind to him, he's probably one of the nicest companions and also one of the most lovable too! He is the friend you'd wish you had if you ever found yourself in the same situation as the Sole Survivor. Cherish Codsworth, he's all you have left, and he'll protect you to the best of his ability.)

Dogmeat the Third (A brilliant genius dog that is very likely a synth. Dogmeat, like Codsworth, is a lovable guy and should definitely be cherished. I'd recommend getting the "Everyone's Best Friend" Mod so that you can have him travel with you and another companion. It's almost like FO2!)

Deacon (He's intelligent. He's sneaky. He's a pathological liar with good intentions. Deacon is mysterious and charming, and definitly a little fucked in the head. I'd like to meet his plastic surgeon if they can make him flawlessly look like a woman and a ghoul, no questions asked. Oxhorn has a pretty interesting video that explores Deacon's character and intentions, if you're interested!)

Paladin Danse (I'll admit I wasn't all that impressed with Danse when I got my first impression of him. He's rude, he's impatient, he's condescending, and worst of all he is an asshole to anyone just a bit different from him. Still, the plot-twist left space for this racist Buzz Lightyear knockoff to go through some personal growth. The years of militaristic indoctrination will probably take a while to be resolved, but Danse IS redeemable if given time. He's not inherently evil, just in dire need of a tolerance lesson.)

#Friend Anon #Fallout #Fallout 2 #Fallout 3 #Fallout New Vegas #Fallout 4 #Fallout Companions

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egoiistas · 5 years

Text

may i feel, said he (20)

first | tag | ao3 | ffn

[co-written with @tsaritsa]

a/n not six months this time! but there’s so.... SO much to unpack. so lets jump in.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of post partum depression Words: ~8.6k || Rated: M - Royai

CHAPTER 20

Before him, Greta Flores de la Vega stands in all her scarlet-accented glamour.

The sight of her catapults him into the darker corners of his mind and the whispers of the devil on his shoulder rises in volume. The years they’ve been officially separated are eradicated with the unbidden nostalgia of her features. Her almond shaped eyes are still as rich in mischief as they were the first time he came across them. The subtly complex way she carries herself: arms framing her curvaceous torso as one hand holds her elbow to allow the other to slyly touch the corner of her painted lips. She’s made it into an art. And in that curling smile, entire histories are indexed and tucked away, conjuring up memories of a different time. Different skin on skin and -

“Well? Do I at least get a proper greeting?”

He swallows down the thickness in his throat and he moves automatically. It’s the way everyone says hello - a hug and air kisses on each cheek, but she leaves a mark on one of his. Roy knows it’s a deliberate move on her part, because her smell ruins him, like a dog trained to salivate on physiological triggers, on command, and it feels like a wrench purposely thrown into a sentient machine doing its best to work efficiently. It’s been used against him many, many times before and he’d be a fool to ignore the jolt in his gut and mislabel it for fear instead of involuntary lust. What haunts him worst of all is that the subsequent emotions he wants to feel is horror and guilt. Not anticipation.

He hates that it works so stupendously; loves that Greta knows what she’s doing one hundred percent.

Clearly, old habits die hard.

Before it can do any real damage, before he steps in closer and assume the behavior of his former self… Roy calls her by her given name to break the trance. Something flashes in her chestnut eyes unexpected to her and it pauses for a moment. The literal miracle of speaking her given name.

She hums, amused, and reaches to cup his jaw to give it a little shake. “Jester that you are.”

There’s a beat before he collects himself, becomes aware of the way his jaw is slack. He should have known. He should have known.

“I heard you weren’t coming,” he blurts out inelegantly. Perhaps not the right choice of words, considering the way Greta’s expression flickers, but Roy is too shocked and too confused to care.

She covers her mouth to hide her short laugh. “From whom?”

“Maes.”

Greta doesn’t obstruct the wide smile this time. The laughter spills into her words: “For all his intel experience and information gathering, I can’t imagine how he was ever good at his job. I guess that’s why he plays househusband now.” She pushes her long dark curls behind her ears, cocking her head to the side. “What? At least he knows I’m honest where it matters.”

“And what’s that even meant to mean? He’s made his opinion on you abundantly clear.”

“Last-minute change of plans worked out in my favour. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Or you.” she says softly. “Especially not after I missed Elicita’s birthday party” She looks beyond him for a moment, smiling, and he follows her gaze to where Maes and Gracia are. “What kind of godmother would I be?”

“You’re not her godmother.”

She waves a hand in the air flippantly. “So I wasn’t there for the ceremony. The kid will have padrinos for basically anything in her lifetime.

“And Maes…” She scrunches her face, the roundness almost makes it cute. “He has always been so black-and-white about issues. The man never leaves any chance to consider any side that isn’t his own, something that doesn’t earn him many points on this side of the family.” She shrugs, looking towards Maes and Gracia with a familiar expression. “A falta de pan, buenas son las tortas… so long as Gracia remains happy.”

“And that’s important to you?”

Greta turns back to him and scoffs. “More than to you, leaving family and friends behind. Poor Chris left worrying about you.”

Roy counts to five. The retort is on the tip of his tongue, just begging to be uttered. He wills his reaction to simmer. He knows this game. She knows him well, which buttons to press - their locations, circumference, and how well it gives when pressed. How to tease and touch... All this he’s memorised from the playbook of their relationship, where he gives and she takes and takes and takes.

Except that’s not entirely true.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” Greta says; the sweet tone returns to her voice. “For my dear cousin, her family-”

“No. why are you here? Don’t you have other people to say hello to?”

She doesn’t exactly frown, but she’s no longer smiling. Greta takes a calculated step closer, careful of the cobblestone. “I heard you were in Central that weekend.”

He pauses, taking a moment to scope any sign of unwarranted contact that might come about. “As the actual godparent - “

“And you didn’t tell me?” She cuts him off with another step.

This feeling, low in his gut: simmering, roiling - it’s twisting and changing, manifesting in physical ways that have him shifting his weight. On a logical level, Roy knows he shouldn’t be feeling any iota of attraction to the woman before him. But it’s viceral, entirely reactionary, no bearing on -

Roy looks down at her; the aroma now wafting towards him and he could almost see it materialize in his vision - tendrils trying to curl around him, ensnare him. The only predictable thing about her was that she was unpredictable by nature. For the longest time he was content to sit back and let her act how she liked. Now… well, it was different.

“Wouldn’t you know that I’ve been in Central more times than you’ve been told?” He can feel the defiance surge through his body like electricity.

All the condescending mirth is wiped from her face as she frowns, pouts. Her expression changes as if she’s been offended to the point of exaggeration and she nudges his shoulder back. What he doesn’t anticipate is the person behind him. Roy stumbles to adjust his footing, an apology dying on his lips as he turns.

Riza. She blinks slowly, raising two glasses of sangria.

Before he can respond, Greta brushes her off and tells her in Spanish, “Girl we don’t want sangria, there’s mezcal at the bar. Be a darling and bring us two.” And then she snaps her fingers to gesture it should be done quickly.

He hates this tone, the higher lilt in her voice; the drawn-out syllables, the concentrated power she commands in them, and yet he’s grateful Riza can’t understand them.

To her credit, Riza doesn’t say anything, and merely passes him the glass. She’s waiting for him to introduce them, he realises with a start, and Roy quickly clears his throat.

“Riza, this is Greta.” His arm slips around her waist. “Greta, this is Riza. My girlfriend.”

Greta’s smile freezes momentarily before relaxing. Her eyes are wide as she offers her hand out - the diamonds on her right hand shimmer in the light. “You never told me you got yourself a girlfriend, conejito,” she teases, drawing close to kiss Riza’s cheeks affectionately, bypassing Riza’s outstretched hand entirely. The whole picture in front of him is incredibly surreal - not to mention that particular nickname being brought up.

“I thought you were told,” he says before taking a long sip from the glass.

“Nooo, no one tells me anything.” The elongated pronunciation and melody she adds to her whine gives her more of an accent than the light one she already had; it makes her sound approachable. She lightly taps Riza arms with the back of her hand to get Riza’s attention. “Can you believe the nerve? How rude of you to keep her from the family.”

Riza says something that sounds demure and meek but his attention is beyond the women before him and across the terrace and meets Maes’ eyes, which have narrowed to almost slits. He mouths something to Roy - he can’t read lips at this distance, but he doesn’t need to with the way Maes throws his hands up, all sharp angles and stiff movements. Clearly Greta had done a good job of sneaking onto the island with minimal fanfare - which when he thinks about it, is actually rather impressive for her considering her love of theatrics and the spotlight.

It doesn’t take long for Maes to make his way over to where they are, and the unpleasantness of his countenance subdues as he nears them, replaced with a smile plastered widely across his lips which never quite meets his eyes.

“I wondered where you had gotten to, Roy. Trust you to sequester away the beautiful woman you have and leave the rest of us wanting.” Maes turns to Riza, and his smile becomes marginally more honest, drawing her close to drop kisses on her cheeks. “It’s been too long Riza. Gracia and I are so glad you were able to help us celebrate.” He pulls back and his expression locks into place as he addresses the other member of their company. “And you’re here too Greta. Wonders never cease.”

“What do you expect? The last party you threw, I heard there was only chicken dancing.” She laughs at Maes’s expense. “How does it go?” Greta butchers the tune to the “Chicken Dance” and somehow manages to move her arms like wings with grace, chuckling the entire time and completely comfortable.

Riza makes a strangled noise next to him.

“Is Gracia teaching you nothing? Pobrecito…” Greta addresses Riza, “Hopefully, he’s teaching you some moves.”

“That’s great,” Maes interrupts before Riza can get a word in, voice dripping with disdain. “Gracia and I have some speeches planned for everyone and I think-” he cranes his neck back to his wife who signs the okay symbol over some guests’ heads, “we’re gonna start about now.” His hand claps onto Riza’s shoulder. “I’ll catch you two later.”

His abrupt exit leaves Roy with a sense of unease; he’s not stupid enough to recognise that that entire dismissal of Greta’s prescence wasn’t a warning in of itself but if anything it seemed to bolster the woman’s defiant attitude.

“Come, let’s get some seats - Maes will take a good hour to sob through whatever speech he has planned and I want to save my feet for dancing.” Greta takes hold of Riza’s hand before he can protest and Riza can only turn back to raise her eyebrows in alarm before the two of them disappear into a small crowd of people.

Roy finds them not too long afterwards, just as Gracia stands to speak. Greta is pointing at various people who Roy vaguely recognises as members of the Hughes and Flores clans and Riza nods along politely; though she flashes him a grateful smile when he sits in the chair next to her.

In contrast to the measured speech his wife gave, Maes gets increasingly drunk throughout his own. A shot before. A shot to their first date. And their first anniversary and now their fifth which they celebrate this day. And honestly, it’s the most entertaining thing Roy’s seen in a while - a buffer to the shitshow this entire day has consisted of. There’s the obligatory powerpoint with star wipes and Elicia cheers every time her face is superimposed on the white stone. By a large margin it’s the sweetest part of the evening.

And yet, there’s a chill that Roy can’t quite shake despite the balmy temperatures with the sun now completely gone and the light illuminating overhead. He contemplates whether another beer will solve that problem when Maes’ words drag him firmly into the present.

“... and that is why this woman, this forking angel of a human being-” Roy takes another swig instinctively at the utterance of the not-swear. It was an old game they used to play in the academy, substituting the litany of swears they usually dealt with in favour of cleaner versions. As it turned out, it was a wonderful way to practice for the three year old in their presence now.

Gracia is frowning at her husband but Roy is intimately familiar with the shit-eating grin on his friend’s face; whatever she wanted to stop had left the station long ago.

“-is being so good and following all that medical training even though we had this planned out years in advance: in honour of your brave sacrifice I will raise two shots in your name.” Maes winks at the crowd and Gracia’s palm covers her face. “Because she can’t drink for a while yet,” he hedges, a grin splitting his mouth wide open. “Because my beautiful and wonderful wife is pregnant again and Elicia gets to be a big sister and I have been literally dying to tell each and every one of you! So… por favor raise your glasses for us and Elicia and for the cutest bun in the oven that has ever been made.”

Roy processes the information slowly, feeling the smile grow on his face wider and wider. He stops staring off into the distance when he feels the touch of another hand on his own and Riza meets his eyes with an endearing smile - he imagines its the smile he had when he found her reading in the library.

There’s whooping and shouting around them - something started by Maes no doubt - but Riza grips his hands in hers, her thumbs running over his knuckles, focused entirely on his face. “Do you get first dibs again?” she teases, leaning closer. “I don’t really get how this whole ‘godparenting’ thing works but-”

He kisses her then, and maybe now wasn’t the best time to do so, but god if it didn’t feel right. She laughs against his mouth, and Roy takes the opportunity to snake his arm around her waist, coaxing her into his lap with only minimal effort. Her arms curl around his neck, fingers drifting into his hair. It is one, shining moment where all he can focus on is just how unequivocally happy he is. He knows to not look too deeply into her reaction - but it is the nature of it that bubbles over, makes him feel giddy with untempered energy. She’s happy because he’s happy. It’s in stark contrast to how he’s been made to feel before, how any celebration of fatherhood, psuedo or otherwise, was wrong and shameful.

Curiosity also takes the better of him and he catches sight of Greta’s face. She’s eerily still, fingers blanched white against the champagne flute she holds, staring at the middle distance like she’s not trying to stare towards their direction.

All of a sudden Roy realises what’s going to happen before it does. Impossibly, the grip on the flute grows even tighter. Anticipation morphs into trepidation. He sees the transformation of an eerily empty canvas of Greta’s face deepen into a frustration, a rage.

It explodes like the flute she hurls straight down to the ground.

--------

He’s used to her hysterics. The practice he’s had over the years makes him well-versed in it. Her reaction was the piece of the puzzle that he was missing each time, conveniently forgetting that for each good moment they’d share, there would be a dozen bad ones to follow. It eats at him that it took the deliberate shattering of a glass when she thought no one was looking to come to this realization. That even if he responded on the most base levels of her, it couldn’t erase the treatment that followed and would never be justified.

He’s intimately familiar with her opinions on children, childbirth - and yet she couldn’t even restrain herself in a moment that should've been nothing but joyful for his best friend and her fucking family. Riza has shifted off him, but her fingers still drift over the fabric of his shirt, along the lines of his shoulder. She had remained silent throughout the whole scene, wide brown eyes blinking owlishly as Greta apologised and clutched her hand to her heart.

Oh, I was just so shocked. I couldn’t be happier for them, you know. Roy imagines the tears she managed to conjure and mask as happiness came from the anger he saw in her face. She couldn’t argue passionately without crying. And now, there were other surrounding her, coddling her from this “genuine display of joy”. Tan dulce, la Greta. He grimaces.

He scoffs under his breath. Yes, he thinks viciously. And Riza and I started fucking under completely ethical circumstances.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maes over by the bar. The inebriation- and continued drinking - makes a lot more sense now.

Was he really so blind?

A rhythmic tune begins to play; Roy only notices because its a distinct difference from the slower song before. People from other tables around them stand and walk to the dance floor and their bodies start to sway in beat with song. He shifts towards Riza, a request for a dance dying on his lips as Greta walks into back into his line of sight.

She swivels gracefully through abandoned chairs, taking the one on Riza’s side. In turn, Riza turns to her and away from Roy to face her. “I am so, so sorry about before. I don’t think I could have been more embarrassed unless I purposely tried .” Greta covers her face briefly then sighs, placing folded hands over her knee. He has to hand it to her - she can really put on the act when it suits her. “The last thing I’d want to make anyone feel unwelcome.”

Roy makes some kind of noise but Riza doesn’t seem to pay attention. She smiles courteously to the fabled ex. “I don’t think it merits worrying over it for more than a few minutes. I think the few you spent since then are enough.”

The dry wit takes a moment to sink in for her before Greta grins in understanding. “Thank you, and if there’s anything you need during your stay just let me know.”

“It’s a beautiful island. Honestly, the view of the ocean if a treat in itself.”

“I know right? Daddy had someone kick the reservations set just so Maes and Gracia could have it for the weekend.”

“Is it your family that owns the island?”

She grins widely at this, winking furtively in his direction. “I can see Roy has been talking, but talking about that makes this all the less magical.” She slaps her hands lightly on her knees. “Are you two not dancing?” She addresses them both but only looks at Riza.

Riza releases something in between a guffaw and a chortle. “No, I don’t think so. We didn’t quite get through the last time Roy tried to teach me a dance lesson.”

Not my fault, Roy thinks childishly. There’s guilt though, festering deep down - he hadn’t really given much thought to her unfamiliarity with dancing beyond what he had shown her. Here, it was treated like… it was just something they did, was expected of them in the same way he was expected to know that the sky was blue, and that two and three summed to five. Music would play and he would dance, whether it was with his mother and sisters, or drunkenly with his academy friends on a night out on the town, flirting with girls who fluttered their eyelashes at the mere mention of rank. He certainly liked dancing with Riza, but they had the unfortunate habit of getting distracted with other things partway through.

“Ahh, but it’s not about the steps, but about feeling the music in your body. Non-latin styles like waltzes are so frigid and tight - beautiful, of course - but they allow less...fluidity. Freedom. Passion.” She rests a hand on Riza’s shoulder. “And, if you were invited then you’re amongst family now.”

It’s these kinds of declarations that make Roy pause and recollect himself, lest his shock show openly on his face. Who is this woman, who has replaced the one from his memory? This dazzling display of charisma and warmth is a far cry from the yelling and hysterical demands that he remembers - hell, the woman from ten minutes ago, who most definitely smashed a champagne flute on purpose. And once again, as the only witness, he feels there would be no use to recounting it to anyone but Maes.

“Perhaps later,” Riza answers meekly. He slips his hand under the table, resting it over her thigh, squeezing lightly. Her head turns back a little in response, and the slight quirk of her lips tells him she’s understood his message.

Greta presses on. “I find a drink or two helps loosen up and forget what other people are thinking. There are still some days I trip over my own feet.”

On cue, Riza takes a sip from her drink.

Greta smiles prettily, and Roy distracts himself with his own glass, contemplating the best way to get away from her without attracting a scene. “In the meantime, would you mind if I borrow Roy for a song?”

His fingers grip her thigh again - tighter this time, a silent plea for her to say no, to put her foot down and stop this woman in her tracks: but again, Riza makes no verbal confirmation seemingly nodding her head out of some compelled compliance.

“And if I say no?”

Simultaneously, they both pout - one more exaggerated than the other.

“I thought you wanted to save your feet for dancing?”

Roy tenses at the use of his own words against him. In a lower voice and through grit teeth, he says, “Yes, but I’d like to dance with you.”

She whispers back, “And with that display this afternoon, I don’t think I could do more than walk briskly right now.”

Maybe it’s the tiring trip or the emotional cost of all his interaction thus far, but he leans back a little with a smug look on his face.

“Go, I’m more of a visual learner.”

The smile splits into a wide grin that pulls back over Greta’s canines. “Fabulous, I’ll bring him right back.”

Greta wastes no time. Roy is taken aback as he’s lifted from his chair with surprisingly strong fingers digging into his bicep. He’s walked into the throng of people when the situation finally settles with him. He tries to pull his arm back to no avail and Greta pivots with it, gripping tightly.

Greta faces him, waiting for the current song to end in the middle of other dancers. And out of nowhere, she smiles - chuckles with her head thrown back as the next song starts. “Are you kidding me right now? I’ve been trying to have a moment of your time this entire time and this-”

“I thought you would get the message,” he intones.

“Silence isn’t a message. How was I supposed to know you wanted to play babysitter? I’d have let you get it out of your system. Or what, do you expect me to think you’re serious about a girl like her? That’s like going back in time and dealing emotionally with an early twenties me again. If so, your sense of humour needs work.”

It stings, it really does sting. He’s not wanting any sort of blessing from her - considering the context of their relationship. Already, this conversation alone is more than he anticipated. Any conversation with her today was more than he anticipated. Is it so hard to want to keep the drama to a minimum, to please everyone, at least a little? The guilt gnaws at him as he realises his way of going about this might not go how he intends. He had tried so hard to play diplomatic, to be bland and amiable enough that Greta would lose interest in whatever machinations she had planned. He should have warned Riza. Properly. As they move across the wooden floor in perfect time, Roy thinks he might need to acknowledge his limits in this strange, three-dimensional chess game they’ve found themselves playing.

Others now are caught in the crossfire.

Greta spins out from him, dark hair spiraling out in a perfect arc. She seems smaller than what he remembers, her nails digging into his hands with more pressure than necessary. She isn’t clinging to him, not quite, but he’s certainly given no leeway. Where he pulls back, following the beat and pause of the music, she mirrors him, reacting with ease.

“Roy...” she coos at him, one slender finger sliding along the bone of his jaw. He shivers at the intimate touch, desperately trying to think of a way to extract himself from this position. “Mirala.” She cajoles, leaning closer. “Es una niña. A fetus.”

Roy clutches her hand and spins her - hard - as a warning and she needs a split second to orient her feet. “Milagros,” he says, low and dangerous. “Don’t.”

Her reaction is instantaneous: what serenity was present on her face from her spite and malice is replaced with displeasure, harsh lines forming around her eyes and lips. “Do not call me that. It’s Greta,” she hisses. “I let you get away with it once already. Today.”

“And her name is Riza, so I suggest you learn it,” Roy replies snidely.

“The night of the last dinner,” she starts, all the ferocity and bite suddenly gone. “Was she the one you were talking to?”

Roy doesn’t answer, but he figures it’s still an answer in itself.

Greta scoffs. “You’re a piece of shit.”

Roy chuckles at the accusation, of all people. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his brow and he resists the urge to loosen his collar. “I’m the piece of shit? You-” he stops himself, tempering himself. “I’m not doing this here.”

“Doing what, amorcito? If there was nothing to talk about then you wouldn’t be so riled up. Months of zero returned calls and left on read, you really do have some balls on you if you think you could come here and think I wouldn’t do this here.”

“Call it wishful thinking.”

She makes him lurch towards her, inches from his face despite the difference in height. “I’m not fucking around.”

“I’m not either.” He backs away. “I said what I said the last time we saw each other.”

“You always said that, how did you expect me to believe you this time?”

He remains as stoic as he can. It’s only when she manages to push his buttons that she gets a good grasp on him before he can realize he’s done for. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Tell me what you call two years of fucking on and off then? Organizing all those motherfucking galas with your department and attending as the gracious benefactor. You drop off the face of the earth but then you text me the address of your hotel when either of us were in town. We might not have been engaged Roy, but we were sure as shit still in a relationship.

“And if we are done, why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you give me a clear answer, Roy Mustang? Is it because you couldn’t? Is it because, deep down you wanted someone to fall back to in case your relationship went south? Don’t think me so stupid that I can’t see right through you.”

“Don’t bullshit me; I know you were fucking other dudes when I wasn’t available.” An acidic laugh escapes him - a freeing, cathartic laugh, to say these thoughts out loud, finally. “Is this grilling meant to make me fall back in love with you? Maybe that would’ve worked a year ago, sure. But you’re deluding yourself if you think you can be comparable to Riza.” It’s a cruel barb, tailored to hurt her feelings perfectly. But it’s the truth - what lingering affection he had for her has vanished as the blatant dichotomy of these two women becomes more and more apparent.

“Si, the barely-legal boba is the girl of your dreams. I’m sure your mother is very proud of you for bringing home a girl who hasn’t even had her quinceañera!”

His silence makes her slow the pace of their dancing. “Oh, Roy, don’t tell me you’re-”

“She is,” he answers quietly, voice barely carrying over the volume of the music. “I don’t care if you don’t like it, or understand it. I honestly wouldn’t expect you to. You push and push and push, Milagros, and you never care about how many people you hurt. You wanna know why we always fought? Because it’s what we do. You never inspired me to become a better person, or to think about how I could be a better partner to you - it was just about the sex, or making you look good in front of whoever or-” Roy cuts himself off, laughing bitterly. “We used each other because it was about ourselves and never each other.”

Roy can count the times on a single hand where he’s seen this woman - once Milagros, now Greta - look truly, properly shocked, and now he can add one more to that small total. He extracts himself from her grip, rubbing at the skin indented by little red crescents.

“Whatever you planned to achieve here, it’s... “ Roy sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. The dancers sway around them while they stand there.

She pulls him back into the rhythm of the dance and he moves to it instinctively and that's just it, he’s programmed to do so. “Do you think… she will settle for you?” She’s mocking him. “That she wants to have your precious little baaabies? That the supposed girl of your dreams will want to immediately settle her life down and put down roots for you?” She whispers in his ear. “Who’s being selfish now?”

Again, he pushes her back. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Ah, so your bullshit reasoning only applies to me, is that it?[1] Que funny.”

“There’s no point. I didn’t come here to waste my time on you, and Gracia deserves better from her cousin. They invited Riza here. Please respect that.”

Greta steps once more into his space, her right hand gripping his chin. He tenses his jaw, feels her near - but mercifully her grip weakens and he manages to jerk his head to the side, her lips barely grazing the edge of his own. Even six months ago, he would’ve killed for this kind of reaction from her. Now, skin crawling under the sensation, the need to flee is overwhelming; klaxons blaring in his head.

“This was never about me, amorcito,” she tells him, almost breathlessly. “When are you going to understand that?”

---

The whole scene unfolds before her eyes. They take to each other like flower petals moving effortlessly in the wind.

If it were only that innocent.

At first, Riza doesn’t know what to make of it, of them, the way they sway - to and fro, give and take. She’s hypnotised, captivated by the way their bodies flow with the rhythm of the music instead of the lack of distance between them. It’s quick-paced, almost choreographed, something she’s sure she would not have been able to pick up on the spot.

It’s intimate. More than she would have expected - should have expected. Their eyes never tear away from each other. Their hands use each other to help any growing distance become meager again. Her brow wrinkles because… this is just dancing, and she doesn’t know if it’s instinct or insecurity that’s whispering in her ear and telling it’s more than just than meets the eye. Common sense tells her that if she looks to any other couples dancing, they’ve either made way for them to watch or to give them the floor. The clapping and whooping from the crowd makes her ears burn, heartbeat thumps in her ear as Roy twirls her and Greta smiles brightly in turn.

Riza inhales. Jealousy, she concludes, is a normal human emotion; right now, an irrational reaction won’t help in any way. She’s been dropped into foreign territory without a means to isolate herself that doesn’t insult the celebrations. Later, she can examine the intricacies of the performance in front of her.

Riza exhales slowly. Right now, she needs a drink.

She doesn’t draw any attention as she skirts the gathered crowd, and for that she’s grateful. Leaning against the popup bar, she flags the bartender, who appears equally interested in the dancing pair, to bring her something familiar, rattling off the first wine name to come to mind. The first sip is cool and rest of the glass, and the two more after that, follow in quick succession. Anything to distract her from what’s happening in her periphery.

She’s nervous, it’s normal. There isn’t a familiar face here, she tells herself - thinking too soon.

A loud drop sounds next to her; impressively considering the enormity of the bass. He’s even less put-together than he was for his speech: he’s slouching over the edge of the bar and his glasses appear to be missing, giving Riza clear view of his glazed green eyes.

Maes lifts a beer bottle towards her. “Welcome to the telenovela, Riza!” There’s only the slightest hint of slur in her name. It’s impressive considering the amount of shots taken during his speech alone. She imagines he hasn’t stopped since. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

She smiles down at her drink and takes a sip before mirroring his greeting. “The island is beautiful. Congratulations on your milestone,” she says genuinely. She can’t stop complimenting the island. She doesn’t know what else to say.

But he doesn’t hear her and he leans his ear in closer. “What?”

“It’s great! Thanks! Congrats!” and then the clapping behind them stops. She can hear somewhat normally again.

From here, she realises that Maes Hughes is a lot drunker than at first glance - the way he leans against the bar, the flushing of his face. It occurs to her as strange that he isn’t stuck to the hip of his wife, but she’s rudely roused from her woolgathering.

“So why the fuck are you here? Where’s-” he does a full turn as if he’d step out of some mist form into a physical one “-where’s Roy?”

Riza points to the dismantling wall of people. “He’s dancing.”

“What? Why aren’t you dancing with Roy?” He cranes his neck up as if he wasn’t already tall enough and he groans loudly, the bottle hitting his brow with a thunk when he smacks his own face. “Why in the ever-loving FUCK is he dancing with her? Jesus fucking Christ.” He snaps at the bartender, motioning at some used glasses in front of them. “Oi, mate - tequila por favor. Don’t judge me it's the only word I know with too many shots” He groans deeply, running a hand roughly over his face. “I should have known this spectacle was because of them. It always fucking is.”

“This happens regularly?”

The bartender goes to pour the shot of tequila, but Maes huffs, waving the man away and grabs the bottle roughly. “It used to. You would think they were preparing to launch their careers as professional dancers.” He offers Riza the other wedge of lime. “Come on, you’re gonna need this - we all fucking will if she gets her way-”

After the charming censorship in his speech, it’s jarring to hear Maes utter the original swears with such venom, but nonetheless she accepts the wedge, licking the side of her hand and offering it out to be salted.

The tequila burns deliciously on her tongue - clearly she was in the big leagues now, not restricted by college budgets and the want for quantity over quality. She watches with interest as Maes finishes a second shot in quick succession. “Do we suffer from the same gene that disables us from dancing as well as they do?” Riza asks, rubbing the remaining salt against the skin of her hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My dancing is top-notch missy. But if you’re talking about salsa, then no; I can’t dance salsa. But neither can Gracia so ha!” He adds, as if it physically hurt him not to: “And she’s still a perfect wife and human being regardless.”

“Of course.” Riza nods. Her tummy feels pleasantly warm.

“You know, I really thought I come up with the perfect plan. That she wasn’t going to show up because Llamapolooza or Bonaroo or...whatever Bitchella she usually attends. Never misses.”

Riza notes the change in his tone. It’s more aggressive, angrier, but not at her. Following his gaze into the crowd, she guesses, “Do you mean Greta?”

“Shh, shh. Don’t say her name. That’s what summoned the witch here in the first place.”

Riza bites her lip to contain the laugh. “I feel like there’s a lot history to unpack there.”

Maes scoffs and it's a whole body jerking affair. “They’re both a piece of work. But she-” he chuckles sardonically, narrowing his eyes “- she’s been forgiven for more than she should have been allowed to, talking about Gracia the way she did.”

“Sorry… I don’t really understand-”

Maes’ index finger is thrust out in front of her face. “Exactly! That is what everyone at this party should be saying because we asked and asked and asked her and it was always ‘oh no, I’m too busy skiing in Drachma, I couldn’t possibly, ex-oh ex-oh-’” he shudders at the nasal tone, picking up the bottle of tequila to pour them shots again.

“Even with all my reservations about you - don’t think I’m over that little stunt he pulled, and as a dad I should be giving my girl the best role models I can, but-” he dissolves into drunken giggles that err too close to hysterical rather than hilarious.

“It’s completely fucked up that the student is a better match for him than that she-devil. Completely. And I’m complicit now!” Maes throws his hands up in the air, stumbling against the wood of the bar as the gesture moves his whole body. Riza carefully moves her filled-to-the-meniscus shot out of his way, trying to figure out the best way to not spill the majority as soon as she tries to lift it.

Maybe it’s the tequila, or the three glasses of chardonnay she sculled before; but Riza in this moment feels emboldened, defiance surging through her at the crowd cheers for some reason.

Well, she knows the reason. It burns like the tequila does when she takes the second shot under Maes’ glassy gaze.

“Why do you hate her?” Riza asks bluntly, running her tongue over her fingers, savouring the drops that spilled onto her hand. “It can’t be because they broke up, because otherwise you’d be like Chris and be trying to get them back together-”

Maes chokes on his chewed wedge of lime. “You’ve met Chris?” he asks weakly.

“This afternoon,” she answers breezily. “She’s not a fan of me being here. For all her airs about having a private talk with her son, she sure as shit can’t tell him off without half the neighbourhood hearing.”

Maes wheezes, thumping his fist down on the dark wood of the bar. It’s entertaining to see him caught off-guard - even if she’s got an edge because he’s clearly sloshed and she’s only a little tipsy. But she’s tired of all these secrets, all these looks and the confusing behaviour of the woman herself compared to the men she’s been around. In her mind it doesn’t make sense - sure, Greta had been friendly, if a little too much, but Riza could easily put that down to her own awkwardness than any machinations of a more nefarious design.

So why the venom, the animosity? Maes strikes her as the kind of man who is reasonable when presented with all the evidence, and he would have had the best of both worlds: Roy’s perspective as well as that of his wife’s - who was cousin to Greta. Truthfully, a part of her trusts his judgement more so than that of her boyfriend’s, and that wasn’t just because when she turns back to the crowd, she can see him and Greta practically glued at the hips.

If Rebecca was here, Riza would feel bold enough to go and interrupt the two of them, snake her arms around Roy’s shoulders and smile bitchily at this blatant display of… whatever this was. But she’s alone here - on the other side of the dancefloor, Riza can spot Gracia, holding a dozing Elicia and talking with one of Roy’s sisters. For all the welcomes and hugs, the only person who is actually bothering to interact with her is already halfway to smashed and requires something solid to lean against. The odds are not in her favour right now and it hurts to admit it.

She turns back to face Maes properly. “So, what’s the deal? Clearly it had to be horrible to get this kind of reaction.”

His mouth opens and then shuts, the man sighs deeply, pushing away the bottle of tequila. “I promised Gracia I wouldn’t meddle with you two,” he begins, and Riza feels her hackles start to rise, “but then Greta promised she wouldn’t be attending so I frankly don’t give a shit anymore.” Maes runs his hands over his face, roughly through his hair. He looks so tired.

“Okay. Let’s figure out what he’s told you so far. Do you know why they broke up?”

“Roy told me that it was down to her attitude about kids, and not wanting her own-”

Maes snorts loudly. “That man really knows how to play down an issue, doesn’t he? I mean, he’s not wrong - I don’t think that woman has got a single maternal bone in her body, but it wasn’t about kids in general. I…” he falters here, sighing deeply.

Riza frowns, but keeps quiet. Maes fiddles with his empty shot glass for a moment, and then sets it on the table with a little more force than necessary.

“Not many people know about this, and we want to keep it this way. We’re not ashamed - god knows I’m not, I couldn’t be prouder of her - but I know she’s always blamed herself for it, no matter how many times I tell her it’s not. Years of family pressure had a much bigger impact on her than what she understood logically as a doctor.

“After Elicia was born, Gracia really struggled. You’ve heard of postpartum depression before, yeah?”

Riza nods.

“It creeps up on you slowly. We were young, new parents -

Emboldened, tipsy Riza interjects, “It was three years ago…”

Flustered, he stammers out, “And we’re still young!” He breathes out dramatically. “Now can I finish telling this story?”

Riza chuckles to herself and nods.

“All the stresses could be explained away as us just adjusting to her, to our new routine. Gracia’s an only child as well, and there was enormous pressure she put on herself to present this front that we were fine, we were coping, the golden child had succeeded at motherhood. I was still working for the military at the time, but it got to a point where I either had to choose my career or my family. It was a no-brainer. Things got better for a time, but… it was still taking its toll on her.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Honestly, that’s the only reaction from someone that means something. I’ve heard every explanation from ‘she’ll get over it soon’ to ‘oh sometimes I get sad too’. Hell, she studied it as part of her work as a locum and we still weren’t prepared. Everything came to a head about… five months, I think, after Elicia was born.”

The cogs align in her head, and very suddenly, Riza realises just how deep these wounds ran. “Roy is the godfather.”

Maes nods. “He is. We didn’t ask him to do this - the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. But it was the right choice to make. My wife needed help - beyond what I could do while simultaneously juggling a newborn. Giving Elicia to him is still the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Riza stays quiet. Of all the explanations she had been preparing for - this was not one of them.

“Long story short, Roy gave me the best option in the worst scenario. I think maybe five people, all up, knew what was happening. Greta, naturally, had to be keyed in because they were living together at the time.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen Roy with Elicia but it’s just - I know in my heart that that man loves my girl with every fibre of his being. He was the best choice for her - essentially worked from home, negotiated his contract with the military - made easier by his accident - to ensure that he could be around Elicia as much as possible. He sent us videos of her first words, and the first time she stood up on her own. He threw himself into godfatherhood and he did it perfectly.” Maes takes a deep breath here, rubbing at his eyes roughly.

“I don’t know what he’s told you about his aspirations for fatherhood or, at least, how he looks forward to it but it’s… I know it’s something he wants. Greta on the other hand…They couldn't be more different on the matter.

“They were already rocky when all this shit happened - his accident hadn’t been too long before that - and… I don’t know, maybe he came on too strong about this whole thing, but Greta just outright rejected this situation. It wasn’t even in like an uncomfortable kind of way - which I’d get, because you know, not her kid - but she was just so fucking dismissive and shitty about Roy doing the right fucking thing and-” he catches himself here, jaw tensed and jutting out slightly.

“Greta treated Elicia like she was the dirt on her shoe. Always complaining about how Roy never had time for her anymore, how my girl was loud. How my daughter was annoying and then she had the fucking audacity to say that it was Gracia’s fault that she was having relationship issues with Roy. If it wasn’t for Elicia fucking everything up, they’d be happy. But my wife was selfish, a bad mother, and it was her fault that Roy broke up with her.”

The chardonnay and tequila turns over uncomfortably in Riza’s gut.

“I don’t wanna know what she said to him that night: Roy’s never told me and I’ll never ask. But just before Elicia’s first birthday, he came by with her at like four in the morning. Said Greta was becoming impossible to deal with and he wasn’t going to let Elicia be in the middle of that. I just assumed they’d had a spat - not a new development for them - and it was getting calm enough at home that we were almost ready to have her back full time anyway. A few hours later his family was blowing up my phone because according to Greta, he had tendered his resignation from the military, abandoned the lease on his apartment and left her to cancel all the wedding plans. It was three weeks before he answered any of my calls.”

Maes blinks at her. He seems to be waiting for a response, but there’s nothing she can say that would be even remotely appropriate to respond with. This is what brought him out East? This was why she was called Axe?

Perhaps for the first time in a long while, Riza feels her immaturity in this situation. It’s no wonder Roy edited the story so cleanly for her when she pressed him for details - this is beyond messy, or the boundaries of any normal breakup.

“And yet,” Maes continues, picking at his chewed piece of lime, unaware of the maelstrom of emotions he’s conjured within her, “my beautiful, wonderful, unfailingly kind wife forgave her cousin, and gave her a shoulder to cry on when Roy didn’t come back.

“That’s the one thing I’ll never be able to wrap my head around. Forgiving others when they’re toxic or abusive or just plain unpleasant, just because they’re family. I know it’s common in other parts of the world but here, it’s like it’s amplified - expected to be accepted with the simple passage of time. And then they had to go and make everything ten times worse.” He nudges her arm with his shot glass as if her attention wasn’t already his. “I bet you he invited her here himself. He thinks his the sneakiest little fucker, thinking I wouldn’t know when he’d come specifically see her in Central or vice versa... he’s like some kind of junkie. Pah.”

She hears the words but the context doesn’t make sense. “Sorry, who?”

“Roy.”

Riza feels her expression freeze. For all intents and purposes, she never imagined it would round the conversation back to him. Riza looks back up to Maes who is glaring in the general direction of the dancefloor. She thinks herself, does she dare ask? Something inside her hardens and plummets with the weight of a metric tonne. “What do you mean?”

The shot glass slams back on the counter and he stands up properly, easily towering over her. Still, he needs the bar to stand without swaying. “Oh did he- did he not tell you?” He rubs his chin pensively. “Like, I thought fucking his ex-fiancée was bad enough to keep secret but then, our boy, decides to raise the stakes by fucking his student?” He turns to her, his face somber. “No offense, Riza. You’re great but you’re smart enough to understand how stupid it’s all been. I can’t forget that nor can I forgive him for it right now.

“And you wanna know how I know?” He taps his temple. “Because I know things.”

Riza stares at the ground as the gravity of his words hit her all at once, then around, then to the dancing couple. Her automatic denial manifests in an unchecked sentence: “That was before my time.”

Maes snorts. “Are you sure about that?”

Riza opens her mouth to refute him because the insinuation of any infideilty and how it doesnt make sense; the trip, the everything - why would he even be stupid enough to have both of them on the same island? All this she wants to argue back to the drunk Maes.

And then, the picture sharpens; hazy fog in her mind gives way to clarity for the crisp lines and captured images from her memory.

She’s seen Greta before. Not in the picture. Not in magazines. It was in his office at Eastern, in the days leading up to spring break - the well-dressed woman from all those months ago.

That was her.

my soul takes flight (miklós radnóti, rain shower)

You were right to run! The stream is swollen with grief. The wind shudders. The clouds have torn their moorings. The rain pounds the surface of the lake with its fist, The raindrops turn to dust. I watch as you go.

The raindrops turn to dust. My body longs for yours, my muscles, my sinews, that guard the memory of our wild couplings, the crush of our unruly love! Flesh remembering flesh, tortured by sorrow.

I long for you, torn and tormented by grief, my soul takes flight, fluttering after you, and before you; and then nothing matters anymore! for not even rain can wash away this fierce and raging desire.

#royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist #FMA #is this EVEN FMA ANYMORE IM HAVING A CRISIS #i mean it never was to begin with BUT STILL #*shine #*may i feel

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 5 years

Text

Lessons In Love [Part Twenty One]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Marvel Actor,

Pairing: Chris Evans x Original Female Character, Tom Hiddleston x Origininal Female Character

Characters: Chris Evans, Tom Hiddleston, Original Female Characters, Erin O’Connell, Maria Vega,

Word Count: 41,176 // Rating:Mature

Warnings: AU, Chris isn’t famous, Friendship, friends to lovers, violence, guns, stalking, jealousy, featuring bad tom Hiddleston, Chris Evans, Tom Hiddleston, OC, OFCs, Erin O’Connell, Maria Vega, Friendship, Friends, Friends to lovers, Blossoming Friendship, Violence Stalking, AU, Kidnapping, Angst, Fluff ANger BFFS, Guns Gun Violence, Flirting, Established relationship Sebastian Stan, Trust Issues, Lawyers, Slow Burn, Romance, Cuddling

Summary: She’s never been lucky in love and it’s about to get even worse.

Note: Completed Series. Updated 11/2022

Tags: @isaxhorror @patzammit @lilypalmer1987

ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

The next couple of days at work were agony. Even though Eve had seemed adamant she wasn’t going to say anything to her husband I was sure she had. The visits had stopped. The phone calls were gone. He’d either got bored or knew she knew what he had done. I had rung Maria straight after she had left and talked it over.

‘So you just let her go?’ she asked. ‘What was I supposed to do? Pin her down and force her to call him?’ I asked. ‘I would have,’ she said. ‘I know you would. Anyway, whatever happens between them, it’s their business. As long as it doesn’t involve me I’m good.’ ‘I suppose. Would be good to get revenge on that douchebag though.’ ‘No doubt he’d bounce back and it’d be pointless.’ ‘You don’t know that.’ ‘I’m happy not knowing.’

As I took my break, I headed to the locker room to get my purse so I could head to the cafeteria. I stood by my locker fumbling around trying to find it inside my bag when I heard people come in. Pulling it out and shutting my locker I turned to find two of the nurses from the next unit had come in.

‘Hey Erin,’ they greeted me and I said a quick hello. ‘Going to the cafeteria?’ Donna asked me. ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘for my sins. I forgot to bring lunch.’ ‘You can sit with us if you want?’ ‘Yeah okay,’ I said as the three of us moseyed down to the cafeteria. We chatted for a bit. About their unit, about mine. I asked them about a bachelorette party they’d been to recently and they filled me in on every gory detail. ‘Did you hear?’ Donna said as I tucked into my pasta salad. ‘What?’ I asked with a mouthful of lettuce. ‘One of the doctors has been caught cheating on his wife,’ she sniggered as did her friend Carly. My stomach froze. I sipped on my drink trying to choke down the mouthful of food so I could speak. ‘Oh really?’ I said nonchalantly. ‘Yeah, and here’s the kicker. He’s been screwing some girl from work.’ ‘Do you know who?’ I asked. ‘Nope,’ Carly said, ‘apparently it’s that new doctor. The British one but I don’t know who the girl is. My guess is one of the interns that are always kissing his ass.’ ‘Yeah probably,’ Donna agreed, ‘makes me sick. That poor woman moves across the world and her husband does that.’ ‘Awful isn’t it,’ Carly sighed, ‘what do you think Erin?’ ‘Yeah it’s awful,’ I said my throat thick, ‘sorry girls I’ve gotta head back.’ ‘You’ve not even finished your lunch.’ ‘I know but I’ve got a ton of jobs to do, I’ll catch you later,’ I said getting up and walking briskly out of there. Once in the corridor I stopped and rested against the wall trying to will myself not to cry. So people knew. That was no big deal right? They didn’t know it was me. Surely they’d listen if I told them the truth.

When I got back upstairs I found that this gossip had reached my unit and it was all I heard for the rest of the day. I was on tenterhooks. I felt like a spy who was going to be caught out at any moment. It was unbearable and I knew that the rest of my week was looking the same way. I was finally at ease home time rolled around. I was on my way out walking to the parking lot with the nurses from my unit when I spotted Tom up ahead. He didn’t notice me mainly because he wasn’t looking. He was preoccupied on the phone doing what appeared to be arguing though he was trying to keep it low. He appeared to be arriving for the night shift and more importantly oblivious that he was the subject of today’s news. If he had he would probably have turned back around. The gaggle of nurses I was with took turns ogling him as if getting ready to start gossiping as soon as he had passed.

‘They’re my kids too Eve,’ he said in a toned-down shout as he passed us, still not taking us on, ‘you can’t take them anywhere. Not without me-’

That was all I heard but it was enough to send the group into a frenzy and to cause my heart to break. I knew it wasn’t my fault. I knew he was to blame and this was his own mistake but I felt for those kids. I felt for Eve. I felt for myself.

#My writing #tom hiddleston #chris evans fic #erin oconnell #nursing #fighting #arguing #cheating #lessons in love #angst #crying

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cecilyjvckson · 5 years

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Hi hullo it’s ur local trash human olive attempting to play anew third character bc! I’m a mess! Gonna keep this intro short and sweet! Her pinterest is here if you want to get her general vibe

( cisfemale ) haven’t seen PALOMA SINGER around in a while. the ALISHA BOE lookalike has been known to be GENEROUS & QUICK-WITTED, but SHE can also be STUBBORN & INFLEXIBLE. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in ART. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( olive. 22. est. she/her.)

Alright so Paloma was born in northern Florida in a trailer park bathroom with her Aunt Lottie acting as midwife bc they didn’t trust hospitals

Her mom worked as a stripper and her honest, god-given name was Candy. Paloma was named after her mother’s favorite lizard that later died after it ate an ibuprofen off the floor

She was mostly raised by her grandparents bc Candy was a bit of a mess. She struggled with substance abuse issues and several times coming home from school Paloma found her on the floor after she OD’d

She’s always been really really clever and her elementary school teacher kind of took the girl under her wing bc she knew what Paloma was dealing with at home and how tough everything was for her. She’d let her study in her classroom after school for years just to have somewhere to escape to when her mom was drunk or high

Growing up poor means that she’s always been really thrifty and can basically do anything herself. All of her clothes are stuff she’s found in dollar bins, patched up, or traded for. U need a tire changed? Don’t have a wine bottle opener? Don’t worry she’s got this

Eventually when she hadn’t seen her daughter for three months bc she was living with her grandparents full time, Candy got her act together. She got sober for a year, and Paloma started cautiously living with her again, and things seemed to be getting much better after Candy started dating one of her rich clients from the club

They eloped in Vegas after a month of dating and so they whisked Paloma out of Florida to live in New York with her new stepfather Jason and Candy. They enrolled her in private school, gave her a starchy uniform and a credit card to spend on anything she wanted.

She didn’t exactly fit into her new lifestyle. She’s fundamentally kind and tender, and wasn’t used to the kids in New York who drank martinis purchased with fake ID’s and wanted to be Serena van der Woodsen

She tried being a party girl and definitely did a good job of faking it. She was pretty popular at school just for being pretty and having a really really wealthy stepfather, but behind her back people would make fun of the southern accent that would slip out of her when she forgot to hide it

Paloma stopped partying and using drugs when Candy OD’d again. Everyone thought she was sober but she had secretly been using again for years

When her mom died senior year of high school her stepfather grew really cold to her. He still pays for her education and all her expenses, but for all intents and purposes she doesn’t have a “family’ anymore

Okay so personaLITY! She’s really really kind. Would give you anything you needed from her and she gets taken advantage of a lot. Inspired partly by Noora Saetre in that she’s a super feminist and is not afraid to yell at you about it

Not super into hooking up but like… she’ll do it sometimes!

Love’s love! But she doesn’t believe she deserves it so she can be closed off

Is a really good artist! Some of her work went viral last year and she was featured in a short article on Vice about upcoming artists

Uhhh okay prides herself on being the drunk girl that will take care of everyone else

OKAY WANTED PLOTS TIME: best friends, ride or die, girl squad, um blease give me a messy ex, maybe a fling that she has in Amsterdam, someone she hooked up with, a will they won’t they friendship, unlikely friend that’s her total opposite, maybe someone that has a crush on her or vice versa, someone who was friends with her back in New York when she was a wild person, um friends she’s protective of, yeet

#drugs tw #overdose tw #death tw #water:intro

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tangled23works · 6 years

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Run To You

Part 2 of Whatever It Takes.

Read it on Archive of Our Own.

Felicity was not in a good mood. Sleeping alone in that huge bed had never been comfortable but knowing that Oliver was lying in the guest room so close and yet so far away? That had been torture. After a night of tossing and turning, she was ready to admit that she had missed him like hell. But when she had asked for divorce she had made a promise to herself; to be strong, to find out who Felicity Smoak-Queen was without her husband’s influence and not to depend on anyone else ever again. It was a promise she intended to keep. Starting today.

She hopped in the shower while trying to decide on clothes and make-up. She had an interview she couldn’t miss and her mother always said that if you wanted people to take you seriously, then you had to dress the part. Choosing an appropriate outfit took more than half an hour but in the end the elegant blue dress was worth it.

She grabbed her bag and walked into the kitchen in a hurry expecting to find Oliver gone. He always woke up at an ungodly hour and used to tease her about the fact that she could not stand mornings.

She stopped in her tracks when she spotted her husband standing at the counter, pouring coffee into her favorite mug.

“What are you doing?”

He rolled his eyes. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked and pushed the mug towards her.

When she hesitated, he smirked. “I’m not trying to poison you, Felicity. You’re the one who filed for divorce if you recall. I have no intention of getting rid of you.”

Felicity huffed and accepted his offer. He was joking (as much as the man could joke) but Moira Queen was definitely capable of murder. The truth was though that if his mother wanted to get rid of her, she would probably hire a hitman or something. Poison was an unreliable method and one that would cast suspicion on her son.

She slid onto a stool and watched Oliver put one plate of scrambled eggs and two muffins on the counter. He knew that she couldn’t stand eggs that early in the morning and that she had an affinity for sweets that he didn’t share.

He remained standing and was eating his breakfast without further comment when she bit into the first muffin. The taste of vanilla, raspberries and cream cheese filling burst onto her tongue.

“Oh my God!”, she moaned and swallowed. “Where did you get these?”

When he arched an eyebrow, realization hit her. “You made these yourself?”, she asked slack-jawed.

“Why do you sound surprised?”

Except that was she wasn’t. At least not by his cooking skills. Early on in their marriage, she had discovered the CEO of Queen Consolidated wearing an apron and making an authentic Italian meal that would put professional chefs to shame. Back then she had been totally impressed. In her opinion, CEOs did not cook lasagna and tiramisu for their wives; they had housekeepers for that. When she had pointed out that fact, Oliver had laughed at her and had continued to wow her with meals and desserts fit for a restaurant.

So, no. She wasn’t surprised by his cooking abilities; she was surprised because this was the first time in two months that he had decided to feed her. It brought tears to her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered and looked into her coffee mug.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement and didn’t comment on the fact that she had become emotional after a fracking muffin.

“I have to go. We have an early meeting with Starling Bank that I need to be prepared for.”

“About the funds they allocated to QC so that you could save it from the clutches of Isabel Rochev?”

Oliver stood still. “Since when do you keep track of the company’s financial situation?”

Felicity threw her hands in the air. “Be careful, Oliver. Your inner Moira Queen is showing. Next thing you know, you’ll be accusing me of being a gold-digger who married you for jewelry and money.”

He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant,” he clarified, “since when do you care about my job?”

“Since always.”

He nodded once and turned to leave.

Felicity was debating the merits of eating the second muffin when she heard his voice.

“You know why I never talk about the company?”

“Because you think there’s no way a girl from Vegas would understand what you’re talking about?”

“Felicity, drop the act. You couldn’t sound stupid if you tried.”

She actually blushed at his compliment. “Fine. What’s the reason then?”

“It’s because I didn’t think you cared.”

“Of course I care,” she countered.

But she couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. How would he know that she was interested in his work when she never questioned him about it? A large part of this distance between them was definitely his fault but maybe, maybe , there was a small part that was her fault too.

Most of the time she got the sense that Oliver was restraining himself. Perhaps it was the Queen upbringing. Be always in control, never show any human emotions. That seemed to be Moira’s life motto. Or perhaps Oliver was still fighting to be seen as a capable CEO and not the young reckless playboy he had been in college. No matter the cause, she had the impression that her husband was hiding and she was sick of never seeing his true self. Maybe by never pushing for more, she had made an ever bigger mistake than she had realized.

Well, maybe she could have accepted monosyllabic and curt answers before but not anymore.

“Have a good day. I’ll call if I’m going to be late.”

That was a fake promise if Felicity had ever heard one. “Don’t bother.”

“What does that mean?” He looked perplexed.

“Oliver, you’re always late.” It was a harsh but honest statement.

When he didn’t respond, she picked up her empty mug and put it in the dishwasher. This had been one of their biggest issues since the beginning. Felicity would always come second to Queen Consolidated.

Oliver was dedicated one hundred percent to his family’s company, to his legacy. Watching him save it from bankruptcy and turn it around would never cease to amaze her. She was damn proud of him. This success however was the reason why her husband was almost never home. Why he came to bed at two or three in the morning when she was already asleep. Why he traveled around the country making allies and earning the shareholders’ trust without ever thinking of inviting his wife to one of these trips. So, him saying that he would call if he happened to be late was just bullshit. And above all, it was bullshit that she didn’t have the time for.

She heard the door close and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to freak out about their marital issues. She had bigger fish to fry. After all, Oliver Queen was not the only one who had an important meeting to attend this morning.

“Well? How’s the operation ‘WBMW’ going?”

“Excuse me?”

Tommy went through the glass door and looked around wearily wondering if the CEO office was bugged. Not that he would put it past Moira Queen. In fact, Tommy would bet his sizable inheritance that Moira still had spies inside the company.

“Winning Back My Wife,” Tommy explained in a low voice. “I would call it ‘WBFSQ’ but it sounds weird. ‘WBMW’ has a nice ring to it,” he added, giving his oldest friend a cheeky grin.

“Fine.”

“Come on, buddy. You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Tommy walked towards the coffee machine, chose a pod and started pressing buttons. “I need details, Ollie. D-e-t-a-i-l-s.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“Like, are you still in exile or has the lovely Felicity given you access to the inner sanctum?” Tommy knew he was evil for teasing the poor man but he couldn’t help it. Honestly, Felicity kicking Oliver out of the loft and her bed was the most fun he had had in years.

Oliver accepted the cup of coffee he offered and sighed. “Is that a euphemism for sex?”

“Everything is a euphemism for sex, Ollie.”

“In that case, sorry to disappoint but I’m still in exile.”

Tommy groaned. “Please tell me that you’re at least sleeping in the same room as your wife…”

Oliver shook his head and drummed his fingers on the table. He seemed agitated today like his life was out of order. And thanks to this visit, it was about to get worse.

Tommy grabbed the cappuccino he had meticulously prepared and sat down. The scent of cinnamon rose to his nostrils. “And what are you doing about it?”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I’m…” He looked confused for a few seconds and then settled for, “I’m working on it.”

“Really? Please, elaborate.”

“What do you want me to say? She’s determined to keep me away. I’m trying to win her back as you so elegantly put it. That’s it.”

“Jesus, Ollie! Having a talk with you is like pulling teeth. Do I need to use Vodka like the good old days to get you to share? I wonder if Felicity feels the same way.”

Tommy wouldn’t be surprised if she did, to be honest. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if Felicity was mad at Oliver for a lot more than he originally thought.

Oliver had always had trouble with words. Thea seemed to be the only exception to that rule. Apart from his little sister, his friend was a lot more comfortable with showing affection in subtle ways than talking about feelings. The fact that Felicity did not allow him to touch her must be killing him. He would never complain of course or share his thoughts but Tommy knew without a doubt that Oliver Queen was irrevocably in love with his wife. But how would the idiot convince her of that if they were determined to be apart?

Tommy cleared his throat. As much as he was enjoying seeing the overconfident CEO like this, he had come to QC for a reason and it was time to face the music.

“Anyway, I have come across an interesting bit of information. Actually, I’m not sure I should tell you. I mean, you’re probably gonna bite my head off either way but if you happen to find out later on your own, you’ll figure out that I knew all along and then you’re definitely gonna kill me.”

“What’s wrong?”

Tommy hadn’t felt so nervous since the night of his 25th birthday party when he had to warn Oliver about Thea’s sleazebag ex-boyfriend and drug dealer, Shane.

“As you know, I’ve been dating a lovely assistant from PalmerTech-”

“Get to the point, Tommy.”

Tommy ignored his menacing tone and continued, “Last week she had to take an appointment for her boss. You see, this would have been a mere blip on my radar if she hadn’t told me that her boss is the Head of Applied Sciences division and more importantly, if she hadn’t mentioned the name of the person who asked to see him.”

“Who?”, Oliver growled.

“Felicity Smoak-Queen. Your wife applied for a job at Ray Palmer’s company. Ray is aware of the fact that the two of you are separated and you know that he has had his eye on Felicity ever since your wife graduated from MIT. You know, Laura - that’s the assistant by the way - told me that Ray has actually been single since he...”

Tommy watched Oliver run out of the office faster than that red streak in Central City and smiled.

“Go get your girl, Ollie.”

#olicity #my fanfic #married couple #angst and feels

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hekate1308 · 6 years

Text

Shared Joy, Double Joy

Drowley AU - Crowley is a demon who happens to possess a mechanic called Dean Winchester. Enjoy!

Dear God, pathetic doesn’t even begin to cover it –

Dean blinked. Or rather, he tried to blink, found that he had no control over his body, and stayed rather remarkably calm once he realized.

He’d never felt like anything like this before. He was most definitely moving, but he hadn’t decided to do so; furthermore, the street he was walking down was nowhere near his home –

What the hell, is this Vegas? he exclaimed without actually saying the words. He’d have to figure out later how this was possible.

Or not.

Because a strange kind of silence followed the sentence in his mind, almost as if he were talking to someone and they were studying him...

You should definitely not be awake, the same voice he had heard a moment ago declared. For some reason, even though “hearing” was an exaggeration, considering it was more like they were... thinking in Dean’s head without permission, he knew they had a British accent. And didn’t that make everything even more confusing.

What do you mean? I am awake!

Yes, and you shouldn’t be. Don’t make me repeat myself, it’s particularly annoying.

It’s particularly annoying, he mocked them before demanding, What is going on?

What then followed would probably have best been described as a struggle, if he had been able to move his limbs and he had actually been fighting anyone. At the end of his, he was panting... in his mind. And the silence that ensued felt more... intrigued than anything else.

I have to admit I am surprised, the voice then told him.

He snorted. Great. Now, what’s going on?

They sighed. Since I can’t seem to put you under – and really, that is quite interesting, I have to say – I’m a demon and am currently possessing you.

What!?

Demon. Me. Possessing. You.

If he could have rolled his eyes, he would have. Demons don’t –

He didn’t finish the thought because, if he hadn’t spontaneously gone insane (and this certainly didn’t sound like any kind of crazy he’d ever heard of) he was possessed.

Knew you weren’t half as mentally deficient as you believe yourself to be.

Fine, okay, so you’re a demon. But why would a demon possess me? Dean always thought demons were supposed to tempt people, and he certainly didn’t need any help in the immorality or vice department.

Had to lie low for a while.

Oh? What gives?

He figured he might as well get the whole story since there wasn’t much he could do. He was still pretty calm about this whole thing. Maybe he was hooked up on some kind of demon juice?

Demon juice? Now they sounded indignant. What do you take me for?

How about you tell me?

They sighed. Fine. If you have to know –

It’s my body, figure I’ve got the right –

Do you want to hear this or not?

Dean was silent.

I’m a crossroads demon. The best in the business.

Wow, aren’t we humble.

Just telling the truth, darling.

Fine. But if you’re that good at your job, why are you here... in me, then? Shouldn’t you be haunting some crossroads forcing some poor smug to make a deal?

I never force anyone to make a deal with me. And I had to leave Hell for a while. There were... complications.

Like union-strike complications or slept-with-your-bosses-wife complications?

I... angered Lucifer.

Wait, you upset the literal devil?

I didn’t set out to do so. But the fact is, we disagree on a lot of things. And so I decided to lay low for a few weeks at least. And just my luck, I happen to possess the down-on-his-luck mechanic with as many mummy and daddy issues to sort through as the day is long.

Hey –

If it makes you feel better, my mother was a witch.

Why would you want to make me feel better?

Excellent question. They sounded almost... puzzled.

Any chance I can get you to get out of my noggin?

None. Like I said, I have to lie low.

Then what are we doing in Vegas?

Excellent spot for making deals.

That’s not exactly lying low though, is it? He pointed out smugly.

I just wanted a bit of money to live as I am used to –

Again, lying low? This ain’t it, buddy.

A pause. Then – Name’s Crowley.

Dean Winchester. But I figure you already know that.

Indeed I do.

Any chance you haven’t been all over my brain finding out every last thing you can about me? Another pause. That’s a no then.

You should be honoured. Humans normally don’t interest me.

And what makes me special?

Crowley didn’t answer. He – for some reason, Dean was convinced that he was talking to a guy – instead suddenly declared rather dramatically, I suppose we will have to return to your rat-infested apartment then.

That was two years ago, and I handled it.

You could afford better, but you don’t. Why?

Dean mind-shrugged. What’s the point? I mostly use it for sleeping, anyway.

Because you’ve been doing so much of that lately. I can tell you’re exhausted, and this isn’t even my body.

Exactly! How about you don’t go “Look at your life, look at your choices” while you are out here possessing people? Wait, what time is it? I gotta go to work.

If you think I am actually going to that dingy little shop to placate your whining idiot of a boss by working on the cars of douche bags who don’t even recognize what talent is being thrown away at –

Sorry to tell you, but I am still here, still awake, and I can and will annoy you. I need that job to pay for my rent.

He let that thought fester until Crowley asked, What are you suggesting?

I thought the best crossroads demon out there would recognize an offer when he heard one, Dean answered, wondering where he got that idea from. Then again, he was already possessed, what else was he supposed to do?

Eventually Crowley said, You have my attention.

The deal they struck went as follows: Dean wouldn’t try to throw Crowley out – he wasn’t quite sure how he would have gone about that, but it seemed like the safest option to agree – and he’d allow the demon to stay in his place and act as Dean Winchester half of the time, while he’d be able to control his body for the other half. After some more bickering, Crowley had reluctantly agreed that half the time meant half the time that Dean was awake, for he soon found that he could still sleep when he wanted. Of course he could have gone under while Crowley was in control, but he didn’t trust the demon that far.

He turned out to be a surprisingly easy house guest. Hell, he even did the dishes.

You like my burgers, don’t you, Dean told him one day.

They do taste better than those greased-loaded heart attacks waiting to happen you like to devour at least once a day, Crowley shot back. After a pause he added, You would make a good chef.

Ha bloody ha. Dean usually tried to imitate his accent when he annoyed him.

I mean it. Although don’t think I haven’t noticed what really interests you.

If he had actually been holding the plate Crowley was cleaning, he would have dropped it. We agreed. No snooping around in my subconscious.

I got all of that before you were ever aware I was here, darling.

Of course he had.

It was just a silly little day dream, is all.

I wouldn’t call a nursing degree silly.

It was nothing. Drop it.

Miraculously, Crowley did.

After a while, Dean didn’t consider it absolutely necessary to watch over every little thing Crowley said or did when he was in control, and he now and then dived back into his mind to listen to the music, read the books or watch the movies he’d memorized.

He realized that had been a mistake when he resurfaced one day just to check up on how things were going. Really, part of him had been relieved that their family lunch fell into Crowley’s time slot. Once upon a time, he had been glad to see Mom; but since he had realized that that she hardly listened to what he had to say, as opposed to Sam’s monologues about his job, he’d grown rather disenchanted with it all.

Plus, this time they were being introduced to Sam’s new girlfriend, and they usually only heard “mechanic”, assumed the worst and barely talked to him, so there was that.

And then he got back from watching The Untouchables and the first thing he heard coming out of his own mouth was –

“Slaughter-House Five is superior to Cat’s Cradle, but I still think the later is very fascinating –“

“Oh yes” the new girl, Sarah he remembered, replied enthusiastically, “The depiction of bokononism –“

Crowley!

I was fed up with being lectured or ignored. Also, your brother’s and mother’s expressions have been utterly hilarious. Plus, don’t pretend that’s not your opinion.

It is but –

“I didn’t know you liked to read” Mom said, looking puzzled.

“I’m a man of mystery.”

Sarah giggled. “I really have to congratulate you, Sammy.”

Only I get to call him that, Dean told him, even though he was trying his best not to laugh.

Crowley had been right about their expressions.

He supposed one little slip up couldn’t hurt.

And then Crowley got bored.

It had only been a matter of time, Dean supposed. Lucifer could apparently hold a grudge – no surprise there – and demons were not made to live quietly.

He was still somewhat surprised at how Crowley decided to occupy himself.

I wanted a burger and a beer.

Too bad, it’s my turn, and a salad and mineral water it is.

Not only was he making him eat rabbit food, he had also chosen a somewhat nicer diner than Dean would have for his lunch break.

But –

No buts, don’t you humans know how to take care of yourselves?

Dean decided it wasn’t worth the fight.

Crowley, when I said I needed to go clothes shopping –

Have you ever even looked in a mirror? And you waste those good looks on denim and flannel.

Dean stared at the shirts Crowley was going through. Are you flirting with me?

Told you you were not mentally deficient.

Yes, he decided, it was definitely better to concentrate on the shirts.

Why are we watching a few dozen idiots giving each other brain damage again?

Because, as you would say, it’s my turn and the Chiefs are playing. Be a good boy and you get to watch cricket when it’s yours.

You should know by now that I am far better at being naughty than nice.

Their conversations had taken on a decidedly flirty tone ever since that shopping trip, but Dean did his best not to notice.

He failed most of the time.

“There’s something different about you, lately” Benny suddenly announced.

Dean looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that shirt, for one. Looks good on you.”

“And I thought you were happily married –“

“Ha ha. But seriously, brother – you look good. Healthier, even.”

He shrugged. “Changed my diet up a bit.” Crowley would have nagged him forever if he hadn’t now and then eaten a salad voluntarily, now.

Benny frowned. “That’s not all though. But hey, whatever’s working for you – I’m just glad it does.”

Dean could hardly tell him that he had a demonic life coach.

I resent that description.

Sorry, your Highness, would you prefer live-in partner?

For once, Crowley shut up.

After a particularly gruelling day at the shop, Dean sank down in front of his laptop, biting his lip.

Go on. You know you want to.

I am just thinking about it.

Yes. You have been for weeks. Now for God’s sake do something about that!!!

He could have sworn Crowley actually sounded sincere.

And so he tiped Nursing School into the search bar.

“You are going to do what?” Sam asked, blinking.

“I am going to get a nursing certificate. The University of Miami offered me a scholarship. Doesn’t cover everything, but I should get by.”

Sarah was smiling brightly. “That’s wonderful, Dean!”

“I wanted it for a while” he admitted.

“Dean...” Sam hesitated. “If that’s truly what you want, then I’m glad too.”

Ugh. Heartfelt family conversations. How do you humans deal with that?

Mostly by not grunting when they happen.

How mind-numbingly dull.

Crowley –

Fine, fine, I’ll let you have your moment.

Dean was one year into the program, by this time having all but forgotten that sharing his mind with someone wasn’t exactly normal. He now and then had to catch himself, lest he answer to Crowley loudly and freak out someone, but other than that, he was pretty content.

So of course things had to go south.

Crowley had been strangely silent while he did his course work. Not that he didn’t let him do it; but he normally had more to say.

Then –

I have been checking out Hell while you were asleep.

Oh? The devil still on the war path?

No. I think I can return now.

Dean looked up from his papers, not for the first time wishing that he and Crowley could see eye-to-eye. What?

Face it, darling, I’ve done more than my due here, and don’t forget I am the king of the –

Crossroads, yeah, got it, Dean replied, a sinking feeling in his stomach making itself know. Crowley was leaving. Thanks for everything, I guess.

Yes, I – well, I guess that’s it. Bye.

And Crowley was gone.

Dean’s new apartment suddenly felt way too empty.

Five years later

“Ah, Dean.”

“Doctor Mills” he greeted her.

“How’s my favourite nurse?”

“Feeling like I can’t get out of this penguin suit quickly enough” he told her. Give him scrubs any day.

She laughed. “Sorry, you first have to smooch up to the donors. Come on.”

Benefit dinners were not exactly Dean’s idea of a good time, but he could gladly spent a few hours with some rich dude if it meant they got enough money out of it. He loved his job; he was certainly not going to look for a new one if he could help it.

The man Jody had told him was their biggest donor yet was talking to one of their neurosurgeons, but turned around as they approached.

Dean was taken aback. He had never seen the man before in his life, and yet there was something familiar about him, something he couldn’t quite place.

“May I introduce you to our best nurse, Mr. Crowley?” Doctor Mills asked and Dean swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

It couldn’t be.

He had missed the demon, more than he was ready to admit; for a time, his head had felt so empty and silent, until he had slowly remembered that this was how it was supposed to be; and yet now and then he had wished – he wouldn’t even been able to say what for.

Crowley – stop that, it can’t be him – reached out to shake his hand. “Mr. Winchester.”

That voice. He would have recognized it anywhere. He cleared his throat and reciprocated. “Mr. Crowley.”

“I am very glad to meet you. Doctor Mills has been waxing poetry about you.”

“I am sure she over exaggerated my talents.”

“On the contrary” he said, his eyes sparkling.

When Doctor Mills left them, shooting Dean a glance that clearly indicated she’d picked up on the... tension between them, Crowley said, “Told you. Not mentally deficient at all.”

Good God. “Crowley, what are you doing here?”

“Donating to a hospital. Thought I would try to even things out a bit, you know, karma and all that.”

Dean snorted. “Right. And who’s that poor smug you’re possessing?”

“It’s a John Doe, and he was long gone; only the machines were keeping him alive. It’s just me in here.”

Dean felt strangely relieved, almost as if he had been jealous at the thought of Crowley possessing and constantly talking to someone else. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why are you here?”

Crowley grinned, somewhat unsettlingly – although Dean couldn’t deny that it looked attractive, too – “I just wanted to check up on an old investment of mine.”

“An investment, mh?”

“Oh yes. Spent quite a bit of time on that project a few years back, right after my priorities shifted.”

“Oh they did?”

“Yes. And so I decided to leave Hell and build up a worldly fortune for a bit.”

“And what do you think of your old... project?”

“I think it has been doing quite well in my absence.”

“So what now? Another check-in in five years?”

“I was actually thinking about staying here for a while.”

Dean grinned. “You’ll need someone to show you all the places worth seeing around here.”

“You think so?”

There was only one answer to give.

Half an hour later, Dean turned them around so it was Crowley being pressed against the wall of an empty hospital corridor for a change. “By the way” he asked in-between kisses, “How did you find such an attractive meat suit?”

“I’ve been inside of you darling, remember? I knew what to look for.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing down the hallway.

#spn #my writings #dean winchester #crowley #drowley #mechanic!dean #nurse!dean

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