#so now I get to put my foot back into the educational door

[pearl-kite]

I just got a part-time curriculum and instructional coach position

[eleganzadellarosa]

Coparenting

pairing: babydaddy!Jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI)

warnings: dom!Jaehyun, slight breeding kink, daddy kink, rough sex, make up sex, hair pulling, spanking, manhandling, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names (baby, my girl, sunshine, baby mama(he literally calls her this once as a joke), baby girl), slight pussydrunk Jae, mentions of underage drinking

word count: 10,373

AN: I wanted to write something for Jaehyun and this plot came to me so I wrote it out :) enjoy and thanks for reading! <3

You: You really fucked up this time Jae

Jae: I don’t know what to say…

You: Maybe sorry? You never actually say sorry

Jae: I’ll be there for you both, you know that

You: Whatever Jae, you know where to send the money

You kept the last text messages you sent each other to read them whenever you felt yourself falling back into an unrealistic fantasy, just to remind you why you broke up in the first place.

You were young, he was young. 19 to be exact. It was freshman year of college and one thing lead to another and you decided to keep the baby. He wasn’t against it but deep down you both knew you weren’t ready for parenthood quite yet. You had 6 years of dating history with him, having met him in your first year of high school. It wasn’t until you got pregnant that his personality changed and it lead him to do stupid things.

“You’re going to be a dad soon Jae, you can’t just act like that’s not a thing.”

“Who said I wasn’t? I’m literally just trying to live my life as a normal 19 year old! We’re not getting this age back so you can’t be mad!”

He didn’t understand at the time and you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up to know if he’s matured in any way. You loved him and you know he loved you, but there was no way you could handle the stress of him changing so suddenly.

“Come on baby, you have to come put your shoes on now” you called from the kitchen as you packed the small lunchbox into a backpack not much larger.

Being a single mom was difficult but you loved your daughter enough to look past all the hardships. You worked your ass off to make sure she went to a good school to get the best education since you didn’t have the luxury of staying home to teach her yourself.

She runs into the living room across from the kitchen and sits on the floor by the front door to slip on her shoes. You smile to yourself when you see she’s getting the hang of putting them on the correct foot.

You grabbed her backpack and your lunch bag and rushed to put your shoes on as well. You checked her outfit one last time before walking out the door.

It was routine to take her inside and to her classroom, making sure she made it safely and to greet her teacher every morning.

“Hi Mia! Let’s all say good morning to Mia!” the teacher waved both her hands to get the kids’ attention.

“Good morning Mia!” they all shouted in unison and a few of them ran up to hug her.

You stopped her to exchange your goodbye kisses before she ran off with her friends. “Thank you so much, I will be back later to pick her up.” You waved to her teacher as you walked toward the door.

“Of course, you have a great day!”

It was also routine for you to make a quick stop at the local cafe for a hot drink before work, usually choosing anything that goes good with two shots of espresso. When you walked in, a mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg and every other fall scent filled the air, making it clear of the changing seasons.

The man in front of you stood tall and browsed the many options on the overhead menu. “Must be new”you thought. Ever since you moved to this small town, you’ve grown used to seeing familiar faces, so someone not knowing what they wanted from the menu in such a popular cafe was strange.

He was handsome from the back. Dark chocolate locks slightly slicked back minus the few strands that fell to the front and a great sense of style. He wore a simple brown turtleneck under a black jacket with black pants and shoes to match. He looked expensive. You stopped staring at him so intensely when he finally spoke up to order.

“I’ll go with the pumpkin spice latte, and add two shots of espresso please.”

Funny, that’s exactly what you planned on ordering. Great fashion sense and good taste? Now you were curious if his face matched his handsome image from the back. To your dismay, he went straight over to sit at one of the corner tables by the window, back turned toward you.

“Hey, great morning we’re having! What can I get ya?” the cashier at the front greeted you as she always does, seeming to always have a smile on her face.

“Uh, I’ll actually order what he did” you pointed in the dapper man’s direction and she nodded her head as she pressed a few buttons on the screen.

“That’ll be $3.75”

You took your card out of your wallet and tapped it against the card reader. You went to sit at your favorite seat and wait for your order to be called.

“Pumpkin spice latte, two shots of espresso!”

You looked up from your phone and watched the barista push two identical cups forward on the counter in the pickup area. As you approached your drink, you looked over to see the man still sitting in his seat. He must not have heard them call out the order, but taking a quick glance at your watch there was no way you had time to be a good samaritan and make it to work on time.

You picked up your latte and walked toward the door, taking one last look back to see if you would witness him getting his drink before you fully stepped out. Surprisingly, he got up from his seat and turned around to go over and retrieve his order. You felt cold, body frozen with your hand on the “push to open” door. Your hands were trembling, drink barely secure in them. Your heart dropped.

There he was, in the flesh. The father of your child and the man you once called “the love of your life”. You moved to this town to start a new life and get away from having possible run ins with him, but seeing as he was standing in the cafe you visited everyday like clockwork, your plan to stay hidden had been ruined. You quickly turned around before he looked in your direction and pushed the door open.

You stared at the road in a daze, driving with your limbs on autopilot. It’s going on 5 years since you’ve seen him last and could have gone the rest of your life without doing so.

You had to admit, seeing him made you realize how much he blossomed more into an adult in such a short amount of time. You missed him, but had to think of the text messages that still sat in your phone today. You could never let yourself fall down that hole again, especially for your daughter’s sake. You hated Mia not knowing her father, but it was best for now that she didn’t get attached to someone who might not stay.

You parked your car in the lot, hands still gripping the steering wheel, your head falling forward on the horn. It was going to be tough getting through your shift today with the anxiety bubbling up in you. What was he doing here anyways? To you, he had no business in this small town. There was nothing too exciting about the place and it seemed to house mostly people 30 and above.

Whatever he was here for, you hoped it was only for today and you didn’t have to go through seeing him on a regular basis.

4 o’clock came sooner than you expected, probably thanks to how unfocused you were all day. Right now your daughter was the only thing on your mind and you wanted to pick her up quickly so she didn’t wait longer than need be.

“Mommy mommy! Look, I got a sticker!” she runs up to you with her arm extended to show you the sticky image on the back of her hand.

“Wooow baby, it’s so nice! Who gave that to you?”

“Mrs. Burgess! She said I did really good on my writing my name today!”

You smiled and patted her on the head, picking her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Great job my Mia, mommy’s so proud! You have to show mommy how you write your name later okay?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck as you opened the back passenger door for her to sit in her car seat. After strapping her in, you slid in the front ready to get home and end the day.

“Mommy, next week is parent’s day! Everyone made paper flowers for their mommies and daddies.”

“Ooo a surprise for mommy? I can’t wait to see it!”

“Yes! I made one for daddy too so tell him to come too!”

You froze in your seat, taking a peek at her from the rear view mirror. “Mia…daddy’s not here remember?” you swallowed thickly, hoping that she would skip over her mistake and leave the conversation alone.

“Why can’t daddy come this one time? I want to give daddy his flower.”

You were stumped. As much as you tried to prepare yourself for this day, your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to contact him, you didn’t want to see him, you just didn’t want to get hurt again. You weren’t even sure if he had the same number if you did want to shoot him a text. You were the one to break up with him because of his antics and you were also the reason why he had never come to visit. From changing your number to moving to a whole different city, you tried to erase your identity from his memory.

It wasn’t something you wanted to worry about and you hoped your daughter would simply forget by the time next week came around.

The next morning, you went back to the cafe, heart not racing until you look over at where he sat yesterday. Thankfully no one who matched the description sat there now and you considered yourself off the hook. What were the chances he had actually moved to this city and yesterday was one of many days you’d run into each other?

“Hey Emma, same as yesterday please!” you smiled at your normal cashier and went to go sit in your usual spot after you paid.

“Y/N?” The voice sounded unsure, cautious, in disbelief. When you turned around, his eyes matched the tone of the words that left his mouth. “Oh my god, it really is you! You look…good.”

Your mind was going haywire. Jaehyun was standing merely inches away from you, looking just as good as he did yesterday in much more comfortable attire.

“Hey Jae.” you said weakly, “Yeah, you too.”

“I uh…would have paid for your drink if I knew it was you.” He smiled his signature smile. That damn smile and those stupid dimples. It took everything in you to not slap the look off his face. “C-can you talk? It’s been a while.”

Admittedly you didn’t have to be to work for another hour and a half, so you had time since it was only 30 minutes away and traffic was still good. You were indeed curious what he wanted to talk about but didn’t want it to turn out like it did the many times you played it out in your head. It wouldn’t hurt to try though.

“Uhhhh yeah sure.”

He smiled as if he high-fived himself for getting you to agree and he followed you back to your table after grabbing the drinks.

“How have you been? I hadn’t seen you around and now I know why.”

“I’ve been good, just working. And yeah, I’ve been here. How have you been?” You looked down at your cup and let your thumbs play with the sides.

“I’ve been good too. Working mostly, nothing special.”

You nodded your head and gave him a small smile, having the courage to finally look up at him.

“How’s the little one?” he asked hesitantly but you knew it would come out eventually.

“Mia? She’s good. She’s in kindergarten now.”

His eyes widened and the grip on his cup got a bit tighter. You forgot he didn’t know the name you chose since you moved before you went into labor and never got the chance to discuss any of those things.

“Wow, I see I missed a lot…”

“Yeah Jae, you did.”

“Well if you don’t mind, I can change that. I’m actually in the process of moving here in like 2 weeks. I can take her to school some days and watch her too to take something off your plate.”

Fear welled up in your chest at the mention of him taking her since it felt like he would never bring her back. “I’m actually not comfortable with that at all. I’m not sure she needs someone so unstable this early in her life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“Well I don’t know Jae, I was alone my entire pregnancy so I’m not sure I can trust you to be there for her.”

He looked down and his jaw shifted, mouth hanging from the scoff he let out. “I know what I did was wrong and I’m very sorry about that, but you moved and changed your number before you even had her so what the hell was I supposed to do?!”

You knew he was right but you hated that he dismissed the reason you left in the first place. This conversation was a bad idea just like you thought it would be and you didn’t want it to last any longer than it needed to. You stared at him with a deadpan expression and stood up from your seat. He grabbed your arm and sat you back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come across so harshly. I just wanted to be there for the both of you and that wasn’t the easiest thing. I know I made some mistakes but I would never leave our daughter like that.”

“My daughter and I don’t know if I can trust that Jae. I don’t want to see her sad.”

“I promise you I wouldn’t want to see either of my girls sad. Give me your number, I can text you when I get settled in and we can discuss this some more.”

It felt like the energy in the earth shifted while you handed him your phone. That “my girls” shit you completely ignored and had no time to fall for one of his tricks. Why did it have to come to this, you not trusting anything he says?

When you got in your car and drove off, tears streamed down your face. In some way you felt defeated like he broke through the defenses that you so effortlessly built. It was scary, him reentering your life right after your daughter mentioned the parent event at school.

A week passed and you had forgotten all about parent’s day until the morning of when Mia told you “not to forget to tell daddy to come”. She never worried about this man before or maybe you were so stuck on keeping him away that you didn’t notice how much she wanted him around.

Ding

Jae: Hey, I just wanted to ask if you could send me some pictures of Mia? I don’t want to go crazy and ask for all of them, but I wanna see her from day one.

You stared down at the text and then looked at the date. According to him at the cafe, he should be here next week and you knew he’d want to see her. You also knew that if you told him about Mia’s flower for him, he’d be over asap. Not yet you thought. Him meeting her would have to wait until he got here and until you were ready. For now, pictures would have to suffice.

Jae: She’s so gorgeous 💕

Jae: She looks a lot like you I think but she definitely has my dimples!

The comparison made you sick. You knew it was his kid but you tried not to see his side of it. Fuck, this was gonna end so badly, you could feel it. One more week, one more week before you had to deal with whatever he threw your way and truthfully you weren’t ready to catch it.

It was time to pick up Mia and attend the parent’s day event. You walked inside the classroom and smiled at all the other parents and teachers that you passed by. Seeing all the couples made you realize just how single you were and you lowkey wished Jaehyun was here to make it not feel so awkward.

Mia’s eyes lit up when she saw you and ran over with your flower in one hand and his in the other.

“Did daddy come too?!”

You chuckled awkwardly and shook your head. She looked up at you for a few seconds before bursting out into tears, shocking you and everyone else in the classroom. You quickly picked her up to shush her but her feelings were hurt and you would be trying to comfort her for a while. Your poor baby, you hated doing this to her but she didn’t know how scary the whole situation was.

Maybe it was only scary for you and she would be just fine with everything if he decided to leave again. You missed him. His presence, his laugh…his dick. The relationship was going so strong and one small mistake messed it all up. Boys are so stupid you said to yourself while you rubbed her back and fought the tears building up in your eyes.

He never told you what day exactly he would be here but when the next week hit, your anxiety increased tenfold. He probably felt so good about himself for knowing you anticipated his call, text or even seeing him in the cafe again. You actually hadn’t seen him since the last time and you guessed it was because he had a few more things to sort out before he moved.

Ding

You looked down at your phone when you heard the notification. His name shines brightly on your phone and your palms get sweaty.

Jae: Hey Y/N, I just finished moving all my stuff in. I wanted to take you and Mia out to the park this weekend if you weren’t busy.

There it was. The time you knew was coming but still didn’t fully prepare for. He was once again taking control of the situation and you detest not being able to gain it back.

You: Hey Jae, sure what time and which park did you want to meet at?

He turned his read receipts on for you, so you knew he checked your message almost immediately. He gave you a time and place and said to also let him know if you were down for lunch. You felt the slight warmth in your heart, feeling like you did back when you used to date. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want your feelings for him to come back just because he was around again because you knew it would cloud your judgement.

If he messed up again, you would have the pleasure of telling him “I told you so” which gave you something to look forward to. When you got home and told Mia that "daddy wanted to see her", she almost went through the roof with how high she jumped. She even went to school and told all her friends about it. You had never seen her so excited for something and you hoped he didn't let her down.

When the weekend approached, you stood in front of your mirror staring at your outfit for too long. In reality, you weren't really looking at your outfit, you were stuck in another daze not mentally ready for what the day had to bring. You chose something between casual and cute just in case the park got you dirty. An oversized argyle sweater tucked in a pair of light blue jeans. As for your hair, you settled on some loose curls.

"Come on mommy, let's go see daddy!" Mia was already by the door putting on her shoes.

"Are you sure you're ready to see daddy?" you spoke to her as you straightened her clothes and added bows to her two pigtails. If she said no, you would have made up any excuse for her, but seeing how she couldn't sit still while you added her accessories meant that her backing out wasn't an option.

Ding

Jae: I'm omw there now, it's not too far from me so it won't take me long.

You: Okay, we're otw too.

You took your last deep breath before walking out the door. When you stepped out the car with Mia, she immediately ran over to get on the slide. You took a seat on the bench across from her, keeping an eye on her around all the other kids. You watched her aimlessly, thumbs twiddling as you waited.

"Hey."

You turned to see Jaehyun walking up to you with a bag in hand. He was dressed in a plain black tee covered by a burgundy cardigan, black jeans and black sneakers. God he looked so good, why did he have to be so damn fine?

"Oh hey." you smiled and waved lightly.

He sat next to you on the bench, knees touching.

"I brought Mia a gift. I'm not really sure what she likes but she always had a bear with her in her baby pics, figured she'd want an upgrade." He reached into the bag and pulled out a small plush rabbit, something you knew Mia would love. He reached in for something else, and pulled out a small box, handing it over to you. "I got you a little something too."

You raised both your eyebrows in shock and grabbed the box from him. You opened it to see a spa voucher for a full body massage and under it was a small dainty necklace with a single diamond on it. You loved simple jewelry liked this and apparently he remembered.

"Oh that's so thoughtful of you Jae, I really love it. Thank you."

He look relieved that he properly guessed what you'd like as a gift. He opened his mouth to say something but got cut off by Mia.

"Daddy! Hi daddy!" she came running over to you both when she saw him sitting next to you.

Your heads shot in her direction and you looked over at him, the biggest smile spread across his face. He opened his arms and she crashed into the hug as he picked her up and sat her on his lap.

"Hi Mia! I'm so glad to see you, you look so pretty!"

"You look pretty too daddy, I'm so happy you came! Since you didn't come to my school, I'm going to give you your flower now!"

He looked over at you confused and you felt guilty for not telling him about the special day. She reached into her bag that sat next to you and pulled out the paper flower similar to the one she made for you. His face brightened and he leaned over to grab it.

"Wow Mia you did such a great job! Daddy has something for you too!"

Her face lights up and she jumps up and down. "Daddy has a gift for me mommy!" You laugh at her excitement and nod your head. She squealed and spun around with the rabbit he gave her and thanked him multiple times in a short minute. She went over to hug him again and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you daddy! She's my favorite!"

He laughed and rubbed her head before she sped off, back to whatever kids she made friends with.

"It's kind of unbelievable."

"What?" you didn't know what he meant but patiently waited for his answer.

"I can't believe we have a kid together and she's already this big. 5 years seems like such a long time."

"It is. A very long time actually." You caught a lump in your throat when you were forced back to the reality of the situation. Seeing him and Mia interact so well together makes you wish you could turn back time and start things off on a better foot. Jaehyun was a great guy and you knew that, but you couldn't forgive him for his immaturity back then.

You sat on top of the toilet, hands shaking and eyes watery looking at the positive result on the pregnancy test. You didn't mean for this to happen and didn't think it actually would happen. It's not like you and Jae never fucked raw, but his pullout game was usually top tier. You both got too caught up in the moment and he came in you with no hesitation. You thought everything would be fine since you immediately went to the bathroom, but the double lines staring back at you told you a different story.

You were scared, not because you didn't want a baby with him but that was a plan you made for years down the line. You were both freshmen in college and this would ultimately throw a few wrenches in both your plans. You knew he would be understanding though and that helped ease your mind some.

You: come over after the game, we gotta talk

Jae: 👀 uh oh babe, don't scare me like this. Is it bad?

You: not exactly...

You: just come over when you're done

There was a knock on your dorm door within the next 10 minutes and you know he stopped the game of basketball he was playing with his friends for you. Your feet dragged you to the door and you opened it, Jaehyun out of breath on the other side. His shirt was missing and sweat dripped off his body.

"What's wrong baby? Is everything okay?" he asked walking in and closing the door behind him.

You hated that the moment couldn't be better than you telling him in the living room of your slightly run down dorm. You grabbed the test out the pocket of your red pajama shorts and held it up so he could see it.

"Jae, I'm pregnant."

His eyes grew to the size of tomatoes as everything sank in and he stood there stiff as a board. You were starting to get nervous when he didn't say anything and wasn't really sure how to handle his reaction.

"Jae say something, you're scaring me..."

"I-oh my god...I mean baby I'm so happy but this is just so sudden."

"You came in me last month Jae, there was always a possibility. And you don't really look happy."

"I know baby, I know, I just didn't think it would actually happen." He pulled you into a hug a rubbed your back. "I'm happy for us, I really am and I know you'll be a great mom."

This all came as a shock to you too so his reaction wasn't far fetched. Everything that followed after is what surprised you. He barely ever spent time with you anymore and he was always out sneaking drinks with his friends. Jaehyun was never a fan of alcohol but the news of your pregnancy seemed to unleash a new side of him and you hated it.

One night a friend of his texted you to come get him because he was so drunk and feeling up on every girl at the party. It was disappointing and embarrassing, his behavior was outta control and he never had an explanation for it. You got to the party and saw him hugged up on some random girl who was taking advantage of the attention. You went over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ooooooooh, hey babe. I didn't know you were invited." His eyes were droopy and he slurred every word. He grabbed around your waist from the couch he sat on and leaned his head against your stomach.

You pushed his head off and dragged him by the arm, pulling hard as he resisted.

"Get the fuck off me! Why are you trying to ruin this for me?"

The words came out harshly and you couldn't help but think he wasn't talking about the party when he said "ruin". Most people stopped to look at the fight brewing between you and Jae, and you felt the heat rise in your face. Tears threatened to fall when he shoved you away again and walked off, leaving you to stand in the crowd by yourself.

It was that night you made up your mind that he wouldn't be the partner you thought him to be and you had to move on without him. That's the night the messages were exchanged and you changed your number not long after, not waiting to hear whatever shitty excuse he came up with.

As you sat on the bench with him looking at the daughter that formed from you two, you wanted things to be different. You wanted to be able to lock your fingers with his and know that he was going back to a home you shared.

All of it was as true as a pig flying. As if being able to feel the shift in energy from you, Jaehyun looks over and watches how you watch Mia in a daze, eyes showing sadness he’s never witnessed. He wanted to pull you in for a hug, kiss your forehead and rub your back but he knew the reason behind that sadness was him.

He hated what he did to you and how he acted. Everything was just so sudden and truthfully it scared him. The idea of being a dad but the expectation of being a GOOD dad. He was fucking terrified and he made the wrong decision of trying to drink and party his fears away.

Before he could apologize you were already gone. Dropped out as if school no longer mattered, or most importantly, him. He loved you more than words could describe and he messed it all up, possibly never having the chance of getting it back. Not being able to handle the sorrow you tried to conceal, he suggested you all went for lunch since Mia had been playing continuously for the hour you had been here.

“Come on Mia, let’s go eat with…let’s go eat.” you stopped yourself from referring to him as “daddy” simply because you’re not sure how long this relationship would last and it would feel weird calling him that all of a sudden.

Mia runs over and grabs Jaehyun’s hand and looks up at him with a wide smile. He looks down and returns the smile and tightens his grip. He looked good as a dad and it was something you never doubted, just unfortunate circumstances that made you think otherwise.

“You guys can ride with me and I can just bring you back here to your car when we’re done. Is that okay?” He looks at you as he stands at his car, hand resting on the roof of the driver’s side.

Before you could speak, Mia shouted excitedly that she wanted to ride with him so there was no way you could say no especially since you weren’t ready to have him be alone with her.

He smiled and jogged over to the passenger side where you thought he’d be opening the door for Mia but opens your door instead. You turned around to thank him as you got in, but he was already buckling her in the backseat. It felt weird not being the one to drive around wherever you needed to go but it felt nice at the same time. Being a passenger princess eased your mind some and you felt like a chore had been crossed off your list.

“Everyone buckled in?” He hopped into the driver’s seat and looked in the rearview mirror at his daughter before looking at you and you give him a nod.

You kept your eyes on the road as best as you could but they would occasionally slide over and watch him drive. You rolled your eyes for constantly letting his looks distract you. You couldn’t help but notice how much more toned his body seemed under his clothing, and remembering how your nails would dig into his back while he roughly thrusted into you.

Ugh. You clenched your jaw and shooed the image in your head away, sitting in silence for the remainder of the ride. When he pulled into the parking lot, his arm instinctively reached behind your seat to boost him up high so he could see as he parked. You didn’t expect to blush so hard, but having him this close and smelling his cologne had you sidetracked.

“Daddy you’re a good driver, I’m going to drive like daddy when I get big!” Mia exclaims when Jaehyun opens her door and unbuckles her.

He chuckled and smiled as he picked her up, “Thank you baby, daddy will teach you okay?”

He carries her to the door of the restaurant and opens it for you. When you enter, you can feel his eyes watching you. After sitting down and ordering, there was a slight awkward silence besides the few times Mia would think of something she wanted to tell him. You and Jae ordered pasta and Mia wanted a sandwich.

"Daddy can you cut my sandwich please? It's too big." She pouted as she pushed her plate closer to Jaehyun's side of the table.

"Mia, honey you have to do some things yourself…”

He waved his hand dismissing whatever you just said. “No it’s okay, I’ll cut her sandwich for her especially because she asked very politely, good job Mia.” He patted her head and grabbed her plate.

Just watching their interactions showed you just how much Mia is falling in love with being around him and you can’t help but want to cry. You want this relationship between them to work, you don’t want her to feel the sadness you did. A part of you also wants you and Jaehyun to work but you brushed it off as a rekindling feeling because you haven’t been with anyone like this in a long time.

“How’s your food? I saw this place had good reviews so I’m hoping it lives up to the expectations.”

“Oh, it’s actually really good. I’ve never been here before so it felt nice to try somewhere new.”

“Oh really? How come you’ve never come here?” He leaned forward, chin resting in the palm of his hand, attentive and ready to listen.

You stared at him for a second. Gosh he’s so gorgeous, you see why you started dating him in the first place. But it was this moment now, the way all his attention was focused on you that made your heart flutter and you suddenly felt 19 again. He had always been so good with listening to whatever problems you had and never made you feel like you couldn’t talk to him. You missed that and with the lack of friends in the past few years, it felt good to have an adult to hang out with.

Being a single mother made you have to put in the extra work so you never stopped to make friends. It was your fault but it didn’t help knowing that you were only overworking yourself to keep your mind off of him. You wanted him to hug you, hold you tight and tell you everything was okay. That all the years you spent apart were worth it and necessary.

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess I usually just don’t have time for myself.”

“You don’t hang out with your friends?”

You smiled awkwardly. “I…don’t have any friends. I’ve been working a lot since Mia was born, so I don’t really have time to make friends. And I also don’t have a babysitter nor would I trust a random person to watch her.”

Although he tried to hide it, there was a gloominess in his eyes as he listened to you. "I understand and I'm sorry you went through so much. I'm serious when I say I will always be here for the both of you no matter what. I lov-I care about you and Mia so much and would never do anything else to hurt you. I promise." He grabbed your hand that rested on the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You caught how he almost said he loved you. Did he really or was he just saying that to make you trust him? The feeling felt foreign after so many years and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

“I had fun today daddy!" Mia rushes over to hug him and he picks her up and squeezes her tight.

"Aww I'm so glad you did, daddy had fun too. I'll come see you and mommy again soon okay?" He put her down and watched her run back to you. He walked over to hug you also, hesitating a bit but went through with it when you didn't back away.

It was more like a side hug because he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but it was a hug nonetheless. You surprised yourself letting him get so close but even with the 2 seconds his arm wrapped around you, it felt so nice to be in his arms again. He was softening the walls you built up and it made you feel stupid for letting it happen so quickly.

"Thank you for taking care of her for so long, you're such a good mother. I'm going to keep my promise to the both of you, I'm very serious about this. You have my number, so don't hesitate to call me and ask for anything. I'm right here and from now on I will always be here."

You bit on the inside of your lip and focused your gaze toward the ground. You weren't sure if you wanted to slap him then hug him or just hug him. You waited this long to have someone by your side to make you feel like you weren't alone in all this but it still made you feel so uneasy, and truthfully it was stressful. You were going to trust him this time and see where it got you, already preparing yourself for the worst.

In the next few weeks, he kept in touch to either check on you and Mia or to ask if you needed anything from him. You were growing soft to him, falling in love with him all over. You felt like you were finally getting the attention you'd been missing all this time and it felt weird knowing it was coming from him.

Today, he was coming over to help with grocery shopping. You told him he didn't have to but he insisted on helping and carrying the groceries in the house so you wouldn't have to move a muscle.

"That's what I'm here for" he said when you told him you'd been doing it by yourself this whole time. "You don't have to worry about that type of thing anymore with me here."

Shopping went well until some jerk decided to hit you with his cart because you stood in front of something he wanted.

Jaehyun went over and shoved him on the shoulder. "What’s wrong with you man?! You couldn't just say excuse me?!"

The man went to shove Jaehyun back but he slapped the guy's hand away before it connected. "Maybe tell your stupid girlfriend to read the room and not stand in front of stuff, asshole."

"Hey man, watch your mouth around my daughter and don't talk about my girl like that.” He took a step closer to the man. “You better apologize before I fuck you up."

A blush painted your cheeks hearing the conversation between the two men. You looked over at Mia whose lip was pouting as she tried not to cry. You hurried to the front of the cart and hugged her against your chest to shush her. They argued continuously and you saw Jaehyun's hand ball into a fist. You went over and rubbed his arm to hopefully ease his anger.

"Jae it's not worth it, people like him don't deserve your time.”

His jaw clenched and his fist unclenched. He goes to turn around and the man says one last thing to tip Jaehyun over the top.

"Yeah man listen to your girlfriend, she's a keeper. If you don't fuck her, I will."

Jaehyun turns around and punches the man in the face, causing him to stumble back against the shelves. Both you and Mia scream and you stop Jaehyun from landing another punch. Security comes to further break up the fight and ask about what happened. Thankfully there were witnesses who vouched for Jaehyun and the guard let him off the hook while escorting the belligerent man out the store.

Jae went back to pushing Mia in the cart and thumbed away her drying tears. "I'm so sorry Mia, daddy didn't mean for you to see him that way. He doesn't like for anyone to say bad things about his girls." He looked up at you and offered an apologetic smile.

Back in the car, you noticed his knuckles slightly bruised as his hand rests on top of the gear shift. You looked up at him and could tell he was still slightly annoyed by the situation from earlier. You placed your hand on top of his and his expression softened.

"Thank you for earlier, for protecting us. I don't want you getting yourself into trouble over anything like that though."

"Y/N I know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't handle him talking about you like that."

"Jae...I'm not even your girlfriend though."

"You're special to me and the mother of my child, so it doesn't really matter." he says as he backs into your driveway. He looks back at you, slightly leaning onto your armrest. "Don't ever think that someone will be able to talk crazy about you in front of me."

You quickly avoided his gaze and unbuckled your seat belt. "I have to get her inside so she can eat and get ready for bed, it's late."

He sighed to himself and pressed the button to open the trunk. "Okay I'll get the bags, just get Mia and open the door for me."

He helped you bring in all the bags and even put the groceries away. This was his first time being in your home and it truly felt odd.

"Daddy, are you going to stay and eat dinner with me and mommy?"

He stopped playing with her and looked up at you, who looked back at him.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure mommy is sleepy baby, maybe another time? You have to get to sleep soon after you eat."

She pouted her lips and looked at you. It wouldn't hurt to have him stay since he was so nice and helpful today.

"No, I'm actually fine and I would love to repay you for your kindness. Stay with us for dinner Jae."

He looked down at Mia and they both smiled. He kissed her forehead and got up to come into the kitchen with you. "Well at least let me help with dinner." He grabbed your waist and slid past you to get to the fridge. "Lemme know what you need and I'll cut, chop or whatever else for you."

For dinner, you made chicken parmesan and caesar salad. He did a lot of the prep work and set the table after. You caught yourself blushing a few times having him stand next to you and from the overall interactions.

"Come on Mia, let's eat!" you had to get her attention since she was fully focused on whatever storyline she made up for her dolls.

"It smells so good mommy, I'm so hungry!"

Jaehyun chuckled and you smiled at her compliments. "Well daddy helped too so you have to tell him that too."

Her mouth formed a small "oh" and her eyebrows stood in shock. "Daddy's a chef!"

You both laugh at her choice of words and get settled at the table, ready to eat. Dinner was a success, everyone had perfectly clean plates and bowls. Maybe it was because you were happy, but dinner just tasted so much better. Maybe you should have him over more often.

"Daddy...do you love mommy?" The sudden question from Mia made both you and Jaehyun quickly look up at her, you almost choking on the drink you were sipping.

"Why do you ask Mia?" Jaehyun is the first to speak up after the slightly long silence.

"Well...you always tell me you love me but you never say it to mommy and mommy never says it to you. But you should love each other because that's just how mommies and daddies are."

He chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. He cleared his throat when he felt your eyes on him, waiting to see what he would tell her.

"Yes...I do love mommy. I will always love her so don't you worry okay? Come on, let's go get ready for bed. I want to say goodnight to you before I go."

He got up from the table and took her in the bathroom so she could brush her teeth. You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. You wanted to pull your hair out. Knowing he still had feelings for you made this so much harder. You loved him too, you know you did and you never doubted it. It was just still so hard to accept that he wouldn't do anything to mess up whatever you had now.

After cleaning the dinner dishes, you went and sat on the couch and opened a bottle of wine you had stored for a few months. You set down your glass and pulled out the cork. You weren't much of a drinker, but tonight you were in need.

You turned around when you heard the door to Mia's room close and saw Jaehyun tiptoeing away from it. He put his finger to his lips to tell you to stay quiet.

"She's asleep, she was so tired." He came around and sat on the couch with you, eyeing the bottle of wine on the coffee table. "Mind if I stay for a drink?"

You shook your head and pointed to the cabinet containing the glasses and he grabbed one before reclaiming his spot on the couch. You both sat in silence having finished your quarter full glasses a while ago. You looked in the direction of Mia's room and looked back at Jaehyun, both of your elbows resting on the back of the couch.

"You mean a lot to her Jae, I can see how much she loves spending time with you."

"What about you?"

The question threw you off guard but you should have expected it after he confessed his feelings at the dinner table. "What about me?"

"Do I mean a lot to you? I know I messed up a lot in the past, but I'm really trying Y/N."

Your eyes met his again and if there was one word that would describe the way he looked at you, it would be genuine. You knew he was telling the truth and you knew he expected an answer.

"I-I...I don't know Jae, honestly this whole thing has been terrifying and I can't help but want to keep my guard up. I've been so alone these past few years that accepting you back into my life scares me so much. I just don't want to be alone again..."

He grabbed your face in his hands and softly kissed your forehead. "I know, I know and I'm sorry. My babygirl didn't deserve that and I really want to make it up to you. Just trust me and let me take care of you and Mia, let me be in your life again. Please."

You felt stuck, stuck in between wanting to hate him and wanting to let him love you, leaning more toward the latter. Perhaps it was the tiny bit of wine in your system, definitely not enough to get you drunk, but enough to give you confidence.

You leaned forward and kissed him, heart beating fast enough to power a machine. When you leaned back, he looked at you with an unreadable expression. The alcohol immediately left your bloodstream and your face burned with embarrassment.

"Jae I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

He pulls you back into the kiss, hand dragging you in by the waist. He put his all into it and you were starting to feel dizzy. The last time you kissed him was before you had Mia, so to say the kiss had your body heating with lust was an understatement.

He tugged at you and pulled you into his lap, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. His hands were everywhere, never stopping in one place for too long. He slid his hands under your shirt, playing with your boobs for a quick second before tossing the shirt over your head. He broke the kiss and looked at your chest like a kid in a candy store. You wanted to cover them with your hands, but he slipped a hand behind your back to unclasp your bra before you could.

Your breasts fell free and he wasted no time in letting his lips wrap around your nipple. His hand came up to massage the other one and your hands came up to tangle in his hair. After not being with him for so long, you forgot just how much you missed the sex with him. He was always a giver and always made sure you came even if he didn't. Eventually his hands traveled down your back and landed on your hips. He rolled his hips up into you and you both moaned into the kiss.

You reached down between your bodies and palmed him through the pants he wore. He ground up into your hand and you felt just how hard he was. As you began to fiddle with the waistband, he shifted and eased you down onto the couch as he moved between your legs.

"Jae-"

"Shh shh baby, let me take care of you tonight. Let me show you how much I missed you."

He kissed his way down your stomach, placing a kiss on each side of your hip bones. He slipped off your skirt and panties in one go, a string of your arousal sticking to your underwear.

"Fuck, you're so wet..." He bit his lip and dragged a finger through your folds, playing with the slippery mess between them.

He bent down to connect his lips to your pussy. He made a few circles around your clit with his tongue, earning moans from you, before slipping a finger in. You gasped and your hips bucked involuntarily. He moved them faster and faster, holding your thigh down with the hand not in use. You can tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were with his heavy breathing and the way he slightly humped the couch beneath him.

He then used the hand holding down your thigh to rub circles on your clit as his tongue joined his fingers.

“Jae, I’m so close!”

Your legs tried closing but he used his elbows to stop them.

“Cum for me baby, let it out.” The vibrations of his voice sent shockwaves through your nerves.

The simultaneous stimulation sent you over the edge and your toes curled almost cramping your foot. He brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact.

He moved up your body to trap you in another kiss, this time your hand finding a way to his nether regions. You dipped your hands into his pants and into his underwear to stroke his length. He stopped focusing on the kiss for a few seconds and rutted into your hand.

“Jae, please fuck me while my mind is clear.”

He quickly removed everything from the waist down and now you both lay naked on the couch. He tapped his dick on your clit and rubbed it through your folds a few times to get it wet. He eased into you and cursed under his breath. It’s been so long that you forgot just how big he was, stretching you to new lengths but it felt so good.

“Fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you forget already?” he laughed with his brows furrowed as he concentrated on not cumming too quickly. “Fuck you’re so fucking wet.”

You grabbed onto his biceps as he got balls deep, feeling so stretched and full. You moaned when he started thrusting into you slowly, bucking your hips to match his speed. He grabbed onto your waist and sped up his pace, skin slapping against each other.

“Fuck Daddy that feels so good~” you tried to stop your eyes from rolling back from the pleasure.

“Shit, if you call me that again I might get too rough.”

You looked up at him through hooded lids, his lip caught between teeth as he tried to keep it together. But you didn’t want that, you wanted him to fuck you into an empty headspace. You wanted to forget everything he’s ever done wrong and trust him as he is now.

“Fuck me harder Daddy, don’t hold back.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and you could see the switch in his eyes.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over with ease. Now you laid in a “face down ass up” position ready to take whatever he gave you. He rubbed his hands up and down your body, grinding his dick against your folds.

“Gosh I missed this pussy so much…” He lined himself up and slammed back in making you gasp.

This angle and the speed he chose truly did make you feel like he was fucking your thoughts away. By this time you were basically screaming, not able to make full sentences. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you up as he bent down and whispered in your ear.

“Not too loud, you don’t want Mia to wake up and hear how much of a slut you are.” He tugged on your hair harder and thrust into you harder, your moans getting louder. He landed a slap on your ass and covered your mouth with the other.

“Fuck Jae! I’m gonna cum!” You tried moving your body forward to give yourself some time to breathe, your heart pumping like you were on a treadmill.

The hand over your mouth slid down and wrapped around your throat and he was back at your ear.

“Stop running and take this dick. Let Daddy fuck the stress out of you.” He reached down with his other hand and rubbed harsh circles on your clit. He felt your walls squeeze around his girth and he knew you were close and he wasn’t too far himself. “Cum for me baby, I know you want to.”

“Oh god Jae! It feels so fucking good~”

Your toes were curling, your walls were clenching and your vision was dimming. Your orgasm was approaching quickly and you knew it would be mind blowing. His thrusts were getting sloppier so you knew the way your pussy sucked him in had his head spinning.

“Fuck, where you want my cum baby?”

“Inside Jae, please!” You knew you hadn’t been on birth control in a while but something in you made you feel safe enough to choose the most dangerous answer.

He loved fucking you raw, but getting to also cum inside did something to him. Telling him that seemed to power his thrusts, they were now like he wanted to split you in half.

“Missed Daddy so much you want him to fuck another baby in you?” His hips were starting to stutter, you felt way too good around him. “Fuck, please cum with me, cum all over me baby. God you feel so good around my dick.”

His hand moved from your clit to go up and squeeze your nipple while he bit down on you shoulder. The mixed pain and pleasure pushed you to your orgasm and you squeezing around him pushed him to his, both screaming out each other’s name. He pulled out and watched his cum drip out of you, the sight alone could make him hard again.

Him inching out of you was just as euphoric but your body had no strength to keep itself up for another round. You laid there evening out your breaths with a smile spread across your face. You heard him shuffling around behind you and eventually he came back with a warm towel to clean you up.

He placed gentle kisses down your spine and rubbed where he left a handprint on your ass. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You were rough, but you know that’s how I like it.” You chuckled and built up enough strength to sit up and look at him. He looked amazing all fucked out and sweaty, you wanted to pounce on him again. “Thank you for helping to ease my mind.”

“I want to do that for you more often, I wanna be your man again Y/N. I’m sorry for everything I said and did to you to make you feel like I didn’t love you anymore. I love you so much and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”

You quickly wiped the tears that threatened to fall and looked away from him. He pulled you into a hug and rubbed your head and back. You wrapped your arms around him and fully embraced the hug. There was no holding back now, you accepted him and was ready to give him another chance.

“Don’t go, stay with me tonight.”

“Of course baby, I’m never leaving you again.”

Over the next few months, Jaehyun frequented your home, whether it was to run errands with you, drop Mia off from school or just to spend time with the both of you. There were days you also spent nights at his place. The sex was also constant. No matter where or when, he would have you bent over or pinned up against something as he slammed into you.

You loved every second of it, having him by your side on the daily again. He often brought you and Mia around his job to meet his coworkers whenever they had events, even making friends with one of the other families who had kids around Mia’s age. He showed you off like an art piece, one that only he possessed. You were his to keep and everyone else barely had the privilege to look.

“Hey baby mama, so the office is having a party to celebrate the collab of our international partnership and I want you to come with me.” He stood behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist, peppering kisses on your neck as you stood making your cup of tea.

“Haha ew Jae do not call me that. Of course I’ll go baby, when is it?” You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

He sighed happily. “I will never get tired of your kisses babygirl. It’s next week and it starts at 8 and I know you’re worried about a babysitter for Mia, but Tracy said she could watch her because she didn’t want to go.”

It didn’t hurt to let her watch Mia, this would be the first time you and Jae did something together without her. You thought about it for a few seconds more then nodded your head. He smiled brightly and kissed you again.

The venue was classy and you understood why Jaehyun told you to get so dressed up. You didn’t have anything to wear so he took you shopping the day before to get everything you needed. With him by your side, you felt like a billionaire. You wore a long black draped collar dress that was made with a sparkly fabric, a slit going up your right leg.

Jae loved it on you, bending you over in it when he came to see it on you in the dressing room. Speaking of him, he wore a plain black suit with a matching tie and white button down. He looked good and with the way his hand kept rubbing your ass, you knew he’d take you somewhere later to fuck you.

Everyone commented on how great you two looked as a couple as you walked to your table. The event wasn’t very long so there were only standing tables with drinks and small hors d’oeuvres. His boss stood in the middle of the large open space and tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention.

“First and foremost I’d like to thank everyone for coming. Today we celebrate the long awaited partnership with Korea in order to expand our company. It is thanks to all of you that we were able to achieve such a wonderful thing and hopefully we continue to grow.” He turns to look in the direction of you and Jaehyun. “We have also gathered here today for something else special, so if you would all please turn your attention this way.”

You were confused and when you went to turn and ask Jaehyun what was going on, you looked down and saw him on one knee. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with your hands. You blinked back as many tears as you could while he spoke.

“Babygirl, I know we’ve gone through some rough times, you more than me, but I’m going to continue to keep my promise to you and Mia for as long as I live. You are my sunshine, my rock, my everything and I love you so much. You are the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, not as your boyfriend but as your husband. Y/N will you marry me?”

There was no fighting off the tears this time and you nodded your head as you continued to say yes. The whole room filled with cheers as he placed the ring on your finger and stood up to pull you into a kiss. You hugged him tight and his hand rested on the small of your back.

“Yay mommy and daddy are going to get married!”

Shocked, you turn around and see Mia all dressed up. You look up and see Tracy waving at you from the other side and you wave back. Jaehyun picks Mia up and holds her between the both of you.

“See, daddy told you he would love mommy forever.”

[beom1e]

jerk! reunion from hell

you and your friends had started a band in your teen years, as you all shared a deep love for music. as serious as you wanted to be about the band, you put your education first and moved away during the summer after graduation. years later, you were expecting a warm welcome back from your childhood friends.

pairing choi beomgyu x fem! reader

genre angst, humour, fluff, childhood best friend! yeonjun, enemies to lovers, band! txt

warning cursing, bickering, alcohol

masterlist | next

‘yeonjun!?’ your voice echoed throughout the hallway. you let the large glass door close softly behind you, before you began lugging your suitcase down the unnecessarily long hallway lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. ‘is anybody home!?’

clearly, the boys were no longer spending day and night in soobin’s garage hoping to make it big. by the looks of things, their musical talent had actually paid off and gotten them somewhere. still, your confusion began to grow as you approached the only door that seemed to be in the stupidly-long and pointless hallway. you’d gotten the address from kai’s sister after explaining that you were planning on surprising them, but now you were rethinking it. maybe you’d just broken into a stranger’s home, or maybe the boys weren’t around and you’d just have to try again later.

you reached for the handle with shaky hands and pushed open the door. five heads whipped around to get a look at the intruder, and a million thoughts began to cloud your mind.

weren’t they happy to see you? they didn’t look happy. nobody was excitedly jumping around or running to hug you like they had the last time you’d visited, two years ago. they were all staring blankly at you as if you were a stranger. had they forgotten who you were? was the fame that brought along the riches too great that they’d already forgotten who had been there from the beginning? it was just five pairs of eyes staring you down and… wait, five?

‘are you some crazed fan?’ the unfamiliar face spoke, somehow snapping your friends out of their daze.

‘uhm no, i’m—’ you began, narrowing your eyes in annoyance.

‘she’s y/n,’ kai interrupted. ‘that’s y/n.’

‘oh, y/n,’ the new, fifth boy placed his guitar down and began to walk towards you. ‘i’m beomgyu, your replacement.’

‘my what?’ you grimaced. ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘y/n, can i talk to you outside?’ yeonjun came speeding towards you, grabbed your arm and then brought you back into the headache-inducing hallway. ‘i’m sorry, we had no idea that you were coming.’

‘well, yeah, that was the whole point,’ you scoffed. ‘and who the fuck is beomgyu?’

‘he plays the guitar for us now,’ he audibly gulped. ‘and he sings, too. writes… produces… all that fun stuff.’

‘so… what?’ you pursed your lips. ‘i leave and you go and find my replacement? and you just never thought to tell me that there was a new member of the band you and i set up?’

‘we wanted to,’ he sighed. ‘it’s just been a very busy year. we’ve had signings and concerts and then we bought this place, and our album sales have just been—’

‘wait, wait, wait, slow down,’ you waved your hands out in front of you to cut yeonjun off. ‘he’s been here for a year? and you couldn’t think to shoot me a text or give me a call?’

‘like i said, we’ve been busy,’ he defended.

‘that’s bullshit,’ you folded your arms across your chest and gave yeonjun your nastiest stare. ‘so i guess now i better go back home and get caught up on your discography? should i just go buy a t-shirt with that asshole’s face on it and beg him to sign it for me since i’m merely an outsider now?’

‘woah, there,’ beomgyu forced his way into the conversation, after standing around and listening for way too long. he had his hands placed in his pockets and one foot resting back against the wall just beside the door. ‘what have i ever done to you, y/n? except turn your awful music into something that doesn’t make people’s ears bleed?’

‘excuse me?’ you practically growled.

‘beomgyu, don’t,’ yeonjun exhaled.

‘oh, she doesn’t know yet?’ clearly, he found the whole situation amusing. he was almost giggling away to himself.

‘what don’t i know?’ you raised a brow. ‘tell me, jun.’

‘just that beomgyu tweaked your songs before official release and they did better than they had before,’ the words felt like a stab to the heart. ‘but you’re not to blame, i mean you were like seventeen last time you wrote a song for us.’

‘i’m leaving,’ you felt your eyes water and your voice grow weaker. ‘i don’t belong here anymore… obviously.’

walking out of their very nice house was the first of your mistakes. you had just enough money to book a room at a cheap hotel, but not enough for a decently good meal. you ignored the calls from yeonjun and soobin, and sat down on your creaky hotel bed with your laptop to do some research. what you found only seemed to break your heart worse than the initial shock had.

beomgyu had been added over a year ago now. they made an announcement to the public and hundreds of teenage girls gushed over his good looks under their posts. then they released their first hit, a song you had originally written for them. of course, your name was listed in the credits section for participating in the lyrics, but they failed to mention you anywhere else on their social media profiles. they advertised themselves as ‘tomorrow by together’, but shortened it to ‘txt’ in most cases. it was a band of five men, like you had never even existed. their career kicked off very quickly and they began to sell albums in the millions, with their follower count increasing by hundreds of thousands every day. profit came fast, and they all moved out of their family homes to live together in the modern — slightly ugly in your opinion — house you’d visited.

you cried yourself to sleep shortly after, feeling utterly sorry for yourself. it hurt more knowing that your friends had been behind the whole thing, and your lack of credit in their band was nothing when compared with the betrayal.

after a cheap breakfast the next day, you took a cab to your local bus station and found a seat outside the building. there were calls missed and messages left unread on your phone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

it was humiliating. you’d travelled hours alone to see the boys you had grown up with in hopes that they would happily welcome you back into your hometown. instead, they had started a new life that you weren’t a part of. they’d replaced you, given your songs away and moved into a new place without ever informing you.

with your headphones in and your gaze turned to the floor, you failed to notice the two boys trying to hail your attention.

‘seriously, y/n?’ you heard, as your right earphone was ripped out of your ear. it was yeonjun, you could tell without even lifting your eyes.

‘we should just go,’ beomgyu’s voice chimed in from behind yeonjun. your head snapped up at the sound and you turned your gaze towards yeonjun. ‘you’ve wasted my time.’

‘shut it, beomgyu,’ yeonjun warned. ‘y/n, you can’t leave.’

‘why not?’ you snatched the headphone out of his hands. ‘there’s nothing left for me here.’

‘i’m here,’ he reminded. of course. ‘there’s a spare room for you to stay in for however long you want, and i promise we’re going to make it up to you.’

yeonjun was your everything. or he had been, a long time ago. he was the sweet boy that helped you up after you tripped and fell face first into the park’s wood-chip floor. he was older and taller, and cared for you deeply, and despite his popularity throughout his teenage years, he never let anything get in the way of your friendship. it was yours and his idea to start the band, because you loved music just as much as each other. and when you met kai and taehyun, and he befriended soobin, the band just fell into place.

but when puberty struck, your hormones were an indestructible force that made you fall head-over-heels for him. from the way that he sang so beautifully, to the gentle brush of his fingers against yours as he taught you piano. the gentleness of his lyrics, the sound of his laughter, the late nights you spent giggling over lyrics and stories, the way he would put you before anyone and anything else.

your first heartbreak was the night of his prom, when he took an older, more mature girl to the dance. but you tried not to think of your fizzled-out crush anymore, having had a fair share of lovers during your years at university. yeonjun was clueless, and he’d never done a thing to suggest that your friendship was anything more than platonic.

‘no, thank you,’ you turned to face the space in front of you, your eyes squinting naturally from the sun. ‘i don’t need a pity invite back into your lives again.’

‘you’re being way dramatic,’ beomgyu laughed. ‘you were the one that left and hadn’t returned in over two years now.’

‘this has nothing to do with you, you jerk!’ you spun around as you stood, glaring at the man in front of you. ‘i don’t care that you think my friends’ entire success is based off your little editing skills! you’re barely an artist if you think switching a few words in my lyrics suggests that you have any form of talent. the world would be much better off without your constant, snarky little comments!’

‘y/n, let’s go,’ yeonjun grabbed your arm in the same way he had the day before, at his house. with his free hand, he grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began pulling it along. ‘and please don’t cause a scene.’

‘i’m not going,’ you turned yourself into an anchor, using all of your strength to keep yourself grounded. of course, yeonjun was much stronger than you would ever be and easily dragged you along. ‘seriously, yeonjun, stop! there’s no way i’m going back to that house to make awkward small talk with people that i used to know!’

the room was pretty silent. you could hear soobin chewing beside you, and the clinking of metal spoons against ceramic bowls as everybody ate their lunch. then a chair scraping that caught your attention, and beomgyu was standing. he placed his bowl on the counter and kicked the chair back into place, before heading up the stairs into his room.

‘so… y/n,’ kai began. you directed your gaze towards him, as he was sitting directly in front of you. ‘are you moving back home permanently?’

‘i’m not sure,’ you answered simply. ‘i graduate in a month, and then i need to start looking for a job.’

‘are we invited to your graduation?’ taehyun pressed, your head whipping around to face him. ‘is that why you came?’

‘i only have enough tickets to take one of you,’ you sighed. ‘i came because i missed you guys and i missed being here.’

‘who are you going to take?’ soobin asked, shooting you an innocent look.

‘obviously me,’ yeonjun interrupted. ‘who else?’

‘yeah… sorry guys,’ you cleared your throat. ‘i’ve just known yeonjun longer, so it makes sense.’

‘no hard feelings, y/n,’ kai smiled.

‘okay… can somebody show me to my room?’ you dropped your spoon into the bowl, sick of the tense feeling in the room.

beomgyu had been fiddling with his guitar for the past fifteen minutes, as you sat picking at your fingernails. it was just you and him left behind at the house, whilst the other four boys were off running personal errands. you’d claimed the living space first, as you were waiting on yeonjun — who promised to be back by now to take you out for dinner — and beomgyu just seemed to want to annoy you with his presence.

‘you’re playing that wrong, you know,’ you spoke. ‘it’s supposed to be soft.’

‘lovesong, right?’ he asked, still strumming quietly. yes, technically, that was the song he was referring to — the one you had named ‘0x1=lovesong’ — except he was playing it more intensely and more angry than intended. ‘beautiful lyrics, but the demo was way too sappy and boring to release.’

‘excuse me?’ you scoffed. ‘that was my favourite song i ever wrote, and the last song i ever wrote.’

‘i can see why,’ he was smirking. ‘have you listened to the official release? there’s a music video too.’

‘no, obviously,’ rolling your eyes, you tried not to get upset. ‘what did you do to it?’

‘made it angsty,’ he shrugged. ‘you know, like an angry, heartbroken kind of sound. changed the title too, because yours was a little lame. we were actually going to ask you to be a feature in the chorus, but we went with an already established artist instead.’

‘i don’t even want to know,’ you closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. ‘i already feel sick from this whole situation, and you’re just going out of your way to make me feel worse. i’m going up to my room.’

‘the spare room,’ beomgyu corrected. ‘it’s not your room.’

‘what is your problem?’ you snapped. ‘is it your life’s mission to make me feel terrible? you came in here, took my place and the fame that i could have had, and i’m getting punished for it? why, because you feel threatened?’

‘because i don’t like you, y/n,’ he stood, placing his guitar on the couch and towering over you as you were still sitting on the opposite couch. ‘as i recall, you rudely asked yeonjun who ‘the fuck’ i was, and then proceeded to call me an asshole simply because i joined your friends’ band.’

right, you did do that. but it was a heat of the moment thing, and you didn’t actually mean anything by it. still, he only proved your point with his behaviour following your meeting.

‘you provoked me,’ you defended. ‘asking if i was a crazed fan and introducing yourself as my replacement.’

‘geez, it was a joke,’ he rolled his eyes as he stepped away from you and into the kitchen. ‘but your reaction said a lot.’

‘and then he had the audacity to tell me that it was my reaction that caused him to be a huge jerk to me,’ you groaned, lifting your wine glass to your lips and taking another sip. yeonjun nodded between chews. ‘seriously, i can’t stand to even be in the same room as him.’

‘you’ve only known each other for a day,’ he interjected after swallowing. ‘you need to give him a chance.’

‘no, thank you,’ you placed the glass down rather loudly. ‘there’s no way in hell that i’ll ever get close to him… it’s just going to be a long month before i never have to share a living space with him ever again.’

‘that’s true,’ yeonjun stated, although you could tell he had more to say from the way that he leaned over the perfectly white table cloth between you. ‘but it’s not like he’s going to up and leave for your sake. he’s our friend — my friend — and he’s a vital part of our band— a great guitarist and he has a very unique voice that leaves the fans swooning, plus—!’

‘’jun, please,’ you held your hand up to stop him. ‘talking about him like a used car you’re selling on the facebook marketplace isn’t going to make me like him more. sure, he can play guitar, but does he even have the capacity to feel sympathy?’

yeonjun just laughed out loud, reaching for his glass as he fell back into the comfort of his chair, and you smiled. you’ve missed him.

an hour later, beomgyu stopped strumming upon hearing the sound of your laughter. as the door swung open into the common area, he caught sight of you holding onto yeonjun’s bicep for support.

‘and then he just got up and left— oh, hey, beomgyu,’ you straightened up, letting go. ‘uh, goodnight, yeonjun.’

‘who got up and left?’ beomgyu inquired.

‘oh, it’s hilarious,’ yeonjun grinned. ‘this guy who y/n dated— basically, she rejected him but he would not give up— what?’

you were not impressed, and yeonjun caught on quickly. he waved his hand in the air as a dismissal and turned towards the stairs, wishing beomgyu a short goodnight. you shot the latter a tight-lipped smile and followed yeonjun upstairs.

‘goodnight, y/n,’ yeonjun spoke, turned back to face you with his hand reaching for the handle. you smiled and watched him disappear behind the door, to which your smile grew wider and you silently screamed into your hands.

you would have been skipping had everyone else been awake, but you held yourself back and opted for walking calmly down the hallway to your bedroom. the sleep you had turned out to be a lot more peaceful than you had expected, being able to rest easy knowing that you were home, and with yeonjun.

masterlist | next

taglist @stellz581 @fairyofshampgyu @woncheecks @shycreationdreamland @wonioml @baekberrie @wayhome2gyu @strawbrinkofdeath

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 3. Fezco

A/N: I always loved writing for fez so here’s a cute moment from me to y’all this fall season + I can’t wait to see Angus’ unreleased films—just saw a trailer for one the other night 🧡

PROMPTS are from here + I’m using: back to school/university + studio ghibli + “here take this!” “It’s a white sheet.” “Yeah, put it on.”

WARNINGS: language + doing weird couple things inspired by the fall season? :)

<- read my previous october prompt here.

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾

He’s all open arms with a duffel bag on his shoulder, dark auburn hair grown out a bit from the usual buzz cut, single gold chain shining underneath the evening light, and when he catches your eye, seated on the top of the table outside on this fall Friday night, laughing it up with most of your new friends he can’t help but to smile at the sight. Fez was proud to see that most of the worries that you once had about lacking friends at college seemed to be a thing of the past.

“If they don’t see how special you are then fuck ‘em, you don’t need them. And you always got me and ash, remember that. I’ll even slide through and sit in on a class if you want me to.” He often told you when you weren’t having the best days adapting to your new environment, which was a hour and some change away from east highland and you knew Fez always means what he says. He’s always ten toes down for you and the feeling was surely mutual. However Fez wasn’t much of a school person himself preferring street smarts over anything but he never steered you away from getting your education, even when you wanted to give up but he knew you were never serious. It was of course sweet to hear Fez say these things but it didn’t completely erase the feeling when you’re out here on your own dealing with social anxiety. You had to do what you had to do and that’s on Tommy pickles!

It’s only been close to two months since you were back in school.

Taking a gap year—or two after graduating high school to figure out what you truly wanted to do, which did include working since your parents weren’t having you sitting around for a year not doing shit. Thankfully they allowed you to focus on your studies and you didn’t have to work throughout high school a couple years back. That gap turned into two with you going through two jobs and settled on a third before you took your chances again with UCLA.

Y’all don’t want to hear all the details but you made it back around to school at twenty, dreading the thought at the beginning and a little bit more once you set foot inside these huge classrooms but at least you kinda had a better idea of a major now than at eighteen. The dread kicked in even more because it always felt like you were behind especially when you talked to some classmates that were a little younger and more guided. The stress actually had you crying about it to your boyfriend fez over lengthy phone calls and FaceTimes more than with your own parents, who did check in, but you felt like they just didn’t get it.

To see Fez here unexpectedly had your heart thudding in your ears and you wasted no time, jumping off the table to run into Fez’s arms.

“Wassup ma? You miss me?”

“Always.” You nuzzled your head against Fez’s cheek, who chuckled, circling one arm around your body, tugging you right to his.

When you finally broke apart, you felt your eyes burning as you gripped his face just staring at him.

“C’mon man, you got time to drool over me later.”

Which made you playfully roll your eyes before intertwining your fingers with his, Fez giving your hand a gentle squeeze before you pulled him over to briefly introduce him to the friends you made. He was exactly what they were all expecting and they approved, although fez didn’t get the chance to put his stamp on them face to face because you were pulling him away to head back to the dorms.

“Hey! Make sure you put the scrunchie on the door for me!” Your roommate, Jasmine called out to you while the rest let out a chorus of ooo’s, which made Fez give a faint dimpled grin with you shaking your head.

Fez said from behind you as you practically dragged him through the leaf covered campus, “oh word? That’s what y’all be on here? I’m finna come up here every weekend then.”

Scoffing you slowed to walk beside fez instead, enjoying the feeling of him being beside you again. It was hard when you’re used to being around someone if not every day then every other day. Sure you ended up with one best friend during your senior year—that wasn’t fez but she was also one of the ones that always knew what they wanted to do with their lives. As soon as graduation hit, you spent maybe a few days out of the summer together before she started spending her time hanging out elsewhere with other people that decided to do the same schooling as her instead during the end of summer. Then she was gone off to college abroad on a ship with those said friends, yeah that shit must be real nice!! but you were always prone to motion sickness.

But hey! At least you still followed each other on Instagram and you liked each other’s photos from time to time. There really wasn’t any beef, that’s just the way life goes sometimes. You fall out of sync with old friends; although your mind starts to play tricks on you, making you question if the friendship was ever really genuine or just temporary. Nonetheless you tried to get over that as you welcomed new people in your life and they accepted you in return.

You still never planned on forgetting about Fergus O’Carroll, even if your brain tried.

“I see somebody’s ready for Halloween and shit,” Fez comments after dumping his bag on the desk chair, then moving back to the center of the dorm room to spin the hanging witch from the light on the ceiling.

Plopping down on your side of the room you sigh, “that’s all Jas’ doing. She basically forced me to get in the spooky spirit with this blanket and stuffed pumpkin. Otherwise than that, all these decorations are her doing. We both know I’m more of a Christmas person.”

“That’s coo though, ain’t nothing wrong with that. You like what you like.” Fez shrugged before hopping up on the bed with you, “although I must admit, I packed my road dog, Chucky with me.”

Fez and Ash loved Halloween for as long as you’ve been in their lives. “Child’s Play,” happened to be one of many of their favorite horror movies, which also didn’t surprise you as much when it came down to the deranged shit talking redhead of a doll. They got a kick out of him and Ash even tried to prank you seasons ago, dressed up as such one night when you fell asleep on their couch cramming for a test the next day, that’s until you pranked him right back during his prank; by faking unconsciousness deciding that you were getting sick of his pranks after awhile.

You showed that little shit but it was always all love.

Shoulder to shoulder, Fez bumped yours making you laugh a bit after you kicked off your shoes.

“So you’re here.”

“Shit, I think so.” Fez slowly blinked at you, patting all over his torso before the both of you laughed into each other’s faces, “yeah, happy to be here wit you.”

You’re scratching at his beard, then running your fingertips over the growth of hair on his head, to scanning the soft freckles all over his skin until you’re leaning forward to press a kiss right to his lips. Fez licks his bottom lip when you pull away, resting his hand right on your thigh now, “damn that little kiss is all I get? It’s been like twelve-fifty days since I last saw you.”

“That doesn’t sound right but I believe you,” you laughed still caressing his jaw before placing your lips right back on Fez’s.

It seems as if all the stress of whatever maybe going on in your lives burns away with the both of you in each others faces again. Phone calls can only get you so far and you knew Fez was busy getting to the bag while you were getting to the books. Yes those were his words, not yours. However you still made time for each other the best way you knew how, after all this relationship was not something either of you imagined letting go of.

“I’d say put the hair tie on the door but nature is currently doing its thing.” You whispered to fez, after the both of you broke apart to bring some air back into your lungs.

Fez squeezed your hip, “don’t even worry about it, I’m fine doin’ whatever you wanna do.”

“Movie night?”

“Right up my alley, what you thinking?”

A slow smile split over your lips then as you met Fez’s lighter eyes and he already knew as the both of you echoed, “Studio Ghibli.”

That’s how the two of you ended up, backs against propped up festive pillows by the wall for cushion, spiderweb black fleece blanket tossed over your laps, laptop stand placed on a side table you dragged to the center of the room, debating on which out of the batch to watch. You were aware that, “Grave of the fireflies,” was Fez and Ash’s movie to watch together along with their own personal favorites on the side and you also had your own so you both tried to come to terms with another.

As the intro to, “Howl’s moving castle,” began you jumped up, pausing it and alerting a low-lidded fez immediately.

He couldn’t even get to ask what you were doing, as you jumped off the bed and crouched down underneath the bed, dragging something out beneath it to dig through before you stood back up with a huff.

“Here, take this!”

Fez took the material from you, confusion digging into his brows, “Issa white sheet.”

“Yeah, put it on.” You motioned with your hands while fez lightly shook his head at you.

You moved back to your roommate’s side of the room, flicking her candy corn lights on while fez questioned, “for why tho?”

“We’ve been missing out on doing coupley things this fall being away from each other so… maybe now I’ll be in the mood.”

“So what we are gonna be? Two snuggling ghosts?”

Thinking about it for a second with a tilt of your head, you nodded as you picked up the second sheet, “yeah, I guess so.”

You slip the sheet on first, your eyes and mouth picking out of the two holes Fez wasn’t aware were even cut into the sheets until he rolled the other sheet around, “Yo?! Where’d you go?”

Groaning you held out your arms towards fez who slid the sheet over himself as well. “Oh that’s better, now I can see your sexy ass again.”

Posing for him underneath the sheet, you laughed after awhile before sitting right next to him again, covering yourselves back with the spiderweb blanket before letting your hands disappear again.

“You comfy?” Fez asked.

“Much better now,” you replied tucking your head into Fez’s sheet covered shoulder, thankfully because that vibrant wool sweater surely would itch the mess out of your skin.

It’s happened before! You still loved your man down but it had to be said—or thought?

Silence filled the dorm until Fez cleared his throat, “now how we supposed to watch the movie when you done paused it and your hands vanished, Casper?”

“Watch and learn my powers Stretch,” kicking your foot out, you attempted to point your toe to tap on the space bar like the bow wow meme but the stand the laptop was on happened to be a little too close on the edge of the night table, slipping right off and onto its side on the carpet.

Fez snorted, “your ghost powers suck, bro.”

Ready to retort, three knocks at the door halted you in doing so as they sounded along with a brief pause before it became unlocked, revealing a Afro haired jasmine standing in the door way peeking through the open gaps of her fingers.

“…not what I was expecting but whatever floats your boat!”

“Listen, I know this maybe weird as hell right now but it’s just us.” Fez spoke while Jasmine shrugged her shoulders, heading to her wardrobe to peel her jacket off.

“Oh this is a complete no-judgement zone from me, believe that! You can ask how many times they found me in here doing weird shit of my own. Please don’t let me interrupt, carry on.” Jasmine answered, pressing her hands on her hips afterwards.

Fez nodded.

You blinked, “jas…can you do us a huge favor?”

She deeply exhaled, “Are you gonna kick me out now because you want to have sex with the ghost sheets on?”

Fez raised his brows at that…you could never say your roommate wasn’t upfront about anything.

“What? No. Could you pick up my laptop for me and press play for us, please? Movie night got a little delayed.”

Jasmine sighed with relief, “oh hell yeah. Thank god because I did not want to crash at Anita’s again, she’s been farting and sleep talking like crazy lately and I have to get up for work in the morning.”

She moves through the room, picking it up and balancing it in the center of the table top and winks at you two. She halts over the spacebar suddenly asking the ginger in the room, “so fez…what do you think of our humble abode?”

“It’s straight. Knew it would be with the whole warning on the front door.”

“Right answer! Next year I plan on sneaking animatronics in here and scaring the poop outta people as soon as they enter, regardless of what Ilian says, our cute ass RA.” Jasmine beams before hitting the spacebar, “I’m gonna head down to the showers and I’ll be back in a bit. Enjoy your movie night love—ghost birds? Yeah that sounds good. I’m gonna write that down and revisit that for my creative writing class.”

Both you and fez watch as jasmine closes her eyes briefly and turns a makeshift key to the side of her temple before grinning. Mumbling to herself she goes through the room collecting her things to exit, leaving the two of you alone again.

“…and she says we’re doing weird shit when she does things like that?” Fez pointed making you snicker.

“She’s just different, a true Aquarius. Real smart though. Let’s not judge her since she didn’t judge us in our ghost glory.” you told fez from underneath the sheet who lifted his shoulders in surrender.

He wasn’t, “I swear I’m not. I’m just a guest observing it all.”

“Not uh, you’re home with me.”

“Well shit, let me get out these pants then and get real comfortable!”

“Nobody wants to see those hairy chicken legs.”

“Whoa, stop the cap! We know as soon as the temp drops tonight you’re gonna be playing footsies with me to keep warm.”

He’s not wrong but Fez didn’t have to be so loud about it.

Sighing you placed your head back against fez’s shoulder and he moved to rest his right on yours. Together you turned your attention back to the movie playing on the laptop, enjoying each others company like you never left.

Fez suddenly murmurs from beside you, “I love you, scholar.”

Your response was instant hearing the teasing but heart felt nickname, “And I’ll love you even more tomorrow, lucky.”

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[chaosandbubbles]

And In Dreams, We'll Meet Again

Leon Kennedy X Reader

A/N: I have never played resident evil or watched anything other than random Leon Kennedy compilation videos but now I'm in love with him. I'm writing this for @house-of-kolchek who requested something angsty. I am not fully up on the lore of this game, so bear with me. I fell so much in love with this man that I am now going to watch playthroughs to bring you better content! In the meantime, I am very educated on Jason Kolchek and write for him a lot if you want to check me out! Also, I never write grief. I am usualy the fluff queen so this is new for me!

WARNINGS AND TAGS: Major character death, grief, angst, drug use, alcohol use, depression

Word Count: 2.6k

Main Masterlist

“AND how does that make you feel?”

How does that make me feel?

How does it make me FEEL?

How the fuck do you THINK it makes me feel?!

That’s what you would want to say, but you didn’t. You shut your mouth tight, jaw clenched as tears threatened to spring from the corners of your eyes. You pulled up your hoodie—his hoodie—around you, drawing warmth from it as your therapist stared at you with soft, unjudging eyes. You weren’t going to answer her question because it was a stupid-ass question, and she knew it was a stupid-ass question. 

“Y/n?” She prompted again, and you turned your icy glare on her, tears spilling down your cheeks as her blue eyes met yours. Blue eyes. Just like—like—

“It makes me feel fucking horrible!” You snapped at her, drawing away from her gaze, from her hand that looked like it yearned to place on you a comforting touch. You stared out the window, at the rain falling down the glass, at the horribly ugly gray sky that swirled just like your tumultuous emotions. “It’s been a month— a month—since I lost my fiancè! How the fuck am I supposed to fucking feel?!”

Your therapist was quiet, looking you over, before her eyes landed on the Raccoon City hoodie that you still adorned. The one that had never been washed. The one that you never took off. 

“Do you ever feel like maybe—just maybe—you’re not allowing yourself to move on?”

Your entire body burned at the question with anger. Or, maybe agony. Probably both.

“Fuck you!” You screeched as you got up from the couch, pulling your drawstring bag onto your shoulders and flipping her the bird as you made your way to the door. “It’s only been a fucking month since my fiancè fucking died! And you have the fucking nerve to say that I should be moving on?!” You scoffed at her, but you knew that she could see the tears that were streaming down your face, just as thick and heavy as the rain had suddenly turned outside. 

“I don’t fucking need this,” you decided, your mind likely running as you thought of all of the other ways that you could get over this grief. “I don’t even want to fucking be here!”

“This therapy is mandated by your job!” Your therapist yelled as you ran out the door, making sure to slam it shut behind you. 

“Yeah?!”  You called back, glaring heavily at the terrified receptionist. “Ask me how much I fucking care!”

You would probably never set foot in that office again.

⛈️

THE next time you went to therapy, you walked in sullenly, looking ashamed and a bit embarrassed about your actions two months prior. You couldn’t even really say what you’d been doing the past two months, living life in a fog, grief overwhelming. You’d know you needed to go back to therapy when you started having lapses in your memory, and, here you were, unable to specifically recall a single thing that you’d done since…since…

“Why don’t we talk about what happened? That night?”

Your eyes shifted slowly to your therapist and you shook your head.

“No,” you responded sullenly, pulling at the strings of his hoodie. What used to be his hoodie… “No. I don’t want to do that.”

“Tell me what happened, Y/n.”

“I–it—!” You didn’t know why it was so hard to recall, or why it was so hard to put into words. “He fucking died, okay?! My fiancè died. What more is there to even say?”

“Do you want to talk about how your fiancè died?”

“No.”

Your therapist leaned forward then, arms in her lap, bland, semi-blonde hair hanging over a shoulder. She looked almost like the girl you both once knew, the girl you helped save— “You know, if you never talk about it, you’ll never get to the root of the real problem. You’ll never be able to feel better.”

You choked back a sob, hands clutching the ends of his hoodie when you said:

“Maybe I don’t want to feel better.”

⛈️

This session your therapist decided to try something different. Instead of bringing up that day, you’d spent the entirety of the session talking about everything else about…him. How you met, when you started dating, when he’d asked you to marry him.

“That day was happy,” you recalled, a gleam and a tear in your eye as you remembered how beautiful you looked in your bright yellow dress, how Leon had been so happy. Happier than he’d ever remembered feeling before. “He was so, so excited. I remember that. Him feeling so excited. I remember everything about that day.”

“Were you both excited?”

“Yes, I—I think we were both excited. And happy. So fucking happy.” 

Your therapist smiled back at you and leaned back in her chair, seemingly satisfied with your answers. She was writing something in her notebook, her hair shorter than it had been before, you thought. And blonder. 

“And thinking about that day, it makes you happy?”

Your veins turned ice cold as suddenly, all you could think about was the fact that the love of your life was dead. 

“No,” you admitted, feeling the sobs begin to wrack your body. “No it makes me feel—I feel—”

“How do you feel?”

“I feel numb,” you interjected, and suddenly, your hands began shaking in what you thought was about to be a panic attack. Your breaths were coming in fast, shallow pants and you felt the overwhelming urge to scream. “I feel like—like I don’t exist. Like I’m nothing.”

The therapist tapped her pen against her notepad as she stared at you.

“Interesting.”

⛈️

“Let’s talk about the day that your fiancè died.”

“I already told you, I don’t want to do that,” you pushed back, leaning your back as far into the couch as you could without actually feeling it behind you. You stared at your therapist for a minute—having to look away from his eyes, so blue—and absentmindedly played with the ends of your hoodie. “I can’t remember much about it, anyways.”

“Still?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, watching as your therapist pursed his lips and shook his head. “Still.”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember that my fiancè died,” you bit back, uncomfortable feelings of grief and sadness instead of your comfortable numbness swirling around inside of you. “I remember that Leon is so far away from me, in a place I can never reach him. Is that what you want to hear?” 

“I don’t want to hear anything,” your therapist insisted, and for some reason, you thought his voice sounded just a little bit deeper. Something was weird today. Something felt off. “And besides, I’m not the one who needs to know anything. You are.”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” You questioned harshly, taken aback by how flippant and assertive he sounded at the same time.

“What do you think it means?” Your therapist responded cheekily and you scoffed, sick of these stupid games. Sick of these pointless therapy sessions that you probably wouldn’t even remember. You didn’t remember anything since—

“Whatever,” you hissed, staring out the window. It was foggy today. Just like your mind. You winced as something prickled at the back of it, something trying to convey some sort of message, or—or a warning, maybe. “Something’s…weird today.”

“Well, what did you do this morning?” Your therapist responded. You opened your mouth to respond, to tell him all about your morning, but the words got caught in your throat and you found yourself unable to respond. You tried as hard as you could to remember something, anything that you could have possibly done that day, but—nothing. Your mind was as cloudy as the weather outside.

“I—I can’t remember,” you admitted and your therapist hummed in agreement. Like he knew something that you didn’t. Something struck you as odd again, something felt…awful. You leaned in closer to him, eyes squinted as you examined his hair. Blonde, as usual. Eyes—scarily blue. Blue enough to remind you of—of—

“Something’s wrong,” you said again, clutching your chest. “Something feels really, really wrong.” Your therapist looked at you and scoffed.

“Well, your fiancè is dead, so, that doesn’t really surprise me.”

“No,” you argued, insistent that something had changed between your appointments. “Something is wrong with you. You’re…different than before.” And yes, that was it. Your therapist seemed…different. Something changed with him. 

But what was it?! Had he cut his hair? Or lost weight? Or—no, something else. It was more drastically different than anything like that. What was it?

“Different?” Your therapist asked. “Different how?”

“You’re…you seem different than before,” was all you could manage to say, because your brain, for the life of you, could not figure out what had changed. All that was thought was that something fundamental was shifting here, and you didn’t seem to put your finger on it yet. “You seem like a different person.”

“Hmm,” your therapist responded, shaking his head, as if he were analyzing something. “Interesting, indeed.”

⛈️

“Tell me again.”

“I already told you,” you groaned, picking yourself up off of the couch and pacing around the room. “A thousand times. We met in the spring. At a festival. He was there as some bonafide security. He thought I was cute. He asked for my number. I gave it to him.”

“Great,” your therapist responded, a smile on his face. “Now tell me about the day your fiancè died.”

“I don’t remember!” You screamed back, sick and tired of this stupid, stupid game that your therapist seemed to be playing with you. You could somehow recall every single instance you’d had with Leon from…before…but you couldn’t remember—you couldn’t quite recall—

“Where were you that day?”

“On a mission!” You screeched back, fingernails digging so hard into your palms that it looked like they could draw blood. “I followed him there, I told him it was because I didn’t want him to go alone. I knew how to shoot, I could fight—”

“Tell me about the day your fiancè died.”

“I DON’T REMEMBER!” 

“And why do you think you don’t remember?!” Your therapist was equally as aggressive now, standing up and matching your anxious, agonizing energy. “Why do you think that you can recall every specific detail about your lives together except for that day? The day that your fiancè died!”

“I don’t know!” You were sobbing now, sinking to your knees and clutching the fabric of your blood-stained jeans. Your—what? “I don’t know, I don’t know, I DON’T KNOW!”

“Yes, you do,” your therapist responded, and suddenly, his voice sounded familiar. Too familiar. “You do know.” 

Appalled, you lifted your head and rose to your feet and when you saw the man who stood before you, you gasped.

No. What? How?!

“Leon?” Your voice was timid, afraid, and you were shaking as you looked back at your therapist, your therapist who wasn’t that at all but Leon Kennedy. Your fiancè. Your fiancè who— “But you—you’re not—you’re dead, you died—you?”

“No,” Leon responded sadly, looking down at your form. Blood, seeping through your shirt. Dripping onto your pants. Blood, blood everywhere— “No, I’m not.”

It all came rushing back quickly, hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

“No,” you gasped, clutching at your chest. “Oh, oh no—”

“Tell me what happened,” Leon pushed and you were shaking your head, you were visibly upset, he could tell. You didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t want you to tell him.

“Oh, no—” A sudden rush of intense grief, of horribly immense pain all over his body. No, no he didn’t want to remember—

“We were infected,” you recalled, suddenly calm, and your hands wouldn’t leave your chest. Your beautiful, beautiful hands. “We—we made Ashley get cured first, and then you insisted that I go, and—”

“No,” Leon suddenly insisted, and the therapy room was gone. You were back—back in that place, back in that chair—and you thought that there might be tears in his eyes. 

“And you passed out. And when you woke up, Leon, I was—”

“No!” Leon was shaking, hyperventilating, as he clutched the table in front of him, looking very much like he was going to throw up at any minute. You looked back at him with sad, empathetic eyes—those bright, amazingly beautiful eyes that he loves so fucking much. Oh, fuck, those eyes—

“Leon, I have to,” you pressed, your voice broken with tears. “When you came to Leon, I was—it didn’t work on me,” you reminded him, and now he was clutching his head, trying not to hear, trying not to see it anymore. “I was too far gone, there was nothing that you could do—”

“NO!” And suddenly, he could see it all again. Ashley, sobbing over your dead body. Apologizing, telling him it didn’t work, your heart couldn’t take it—it stopped. He tried CPR. He tried everything but you—the love of his life, you—

You were dead. 

“Leon, it’s time to wake up,” you told him, and your bright eyes were gone. Glassy, grey, dead—

“Wake up, Leon. Wake up, wake up, wake up—”

⛈️

“Leon? Leon, wake up—”

The man shot up with a gasp, sweat beading down his forehead and sticking his hair to his face. He turned to the side of his bed—it smelled like shit in his room, understandably so, he hadn’t left it in days—and he spotted Chris sitting there, eyes slightly worried.

“Fuck, man,” Chris gulped, watching him warily. “You were doing it again. The dreams.”

“And you had to fucking wake me up?!” Leon hollered at him, chucking an empty glass across the room, unflinching as it shattered across his carpet. “That’s the only time! That’s the only time!”

“That’s the only time—what?”

“That’s the only time I can fucking see her!”

Leon’s body wanted to wrack with sobs but he shoved it down, clutching his hair in his hands as he rocked back and forth, trying to calm his body enough to go back to sleep. Just go back to sleep. When he was awake, it was hell—all he could see was your dead eyes, staring up at the ceiling, your clothes stained with blood, and all he could feel was the horrible, terrible fucking pain that accompanied the knowledge that you were fucking dead.

“It’s not real, Leon,” Chris said softly and Leon let out a tiny sob, his heart clenching. He knew it wasn’t fucking real. Of course it wasn’t fucking real. “Imagining her as the one that’s alive, using drugs to hallucinate her living without you, instead—it isn't healthy—”

“Ask me if I fucking care.”

“And do you honestly think that these…scenarios, these daydreams that you make up in your head—Leon, do you think that those are going to fucking bring her back?” 

Leon was quiet. He knew it wasn’t going to bring you back. Nothing could bring you back now. Nothing at all. 

He heard Chris shifting beside him. 

“We went through her apartment today,” he informed Leon and the man tried not to hear, tried not to care. “We found this. We thought you’d want it.”

His eyes moved without his consent and his heart broke when he saw it. Your favorite article of clothing. His hoodie. His stupid, old, Racoon City Police Department hoodie.

“Burn it,” Leon insisted, “or throw it away. I don’t fucking care.”

“Leon,” Chris pushed. “This was yours—”

“No!” Leon yelled, and it was coming back, the pain, the awful pain. “No. It’s not mine. It only used to be mine. It’s all only used to be’s, now. Throw. It. Away.”

And then he swallowed another pain pill and closed his miserable, blue eyes.  You were waiting for him there, after all.

forever taglist: @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @yeslieutenant @kassiekolchek22 @buttermykolchek @kawaiiwitch224 @ageofbajabule

[ahungeringknife]

Posting original stuff for the first time always feels like the top of a roller coaster just before the drop for me :,D Info links are all at the bottom

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The Zealous Servant | 1 | No place like home

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If not for the feeling of his stomach in his throat Spayar wouldn't have even noticed when they came in for a landing. Two rows ahead someone threw up in a bucket and he was glad they'd waited until they landed. The small cabin started smelling like vomit almost immediately and several of Spayar's old platoon-mates started giving the person a hard time. They thought flying was bad they wouldn't have lasted one week in their platoon!

Before it could get too rowdy or a fight break out the doors were opened and the two flighters who'd brought them here started directing everyone out. Spayar got up and was out the cabin quickly to get out into the open sky. He'd seen it was gray skies from the window in the cabin and now landing the clouds seemed even lower than usual. He went over to the waiting area for his luggage with the rest of the passengers. It was already covered for the year for the rain. On the landing pad the two wyrms were stretching their legs from the flight and one was already starting to curl up like a sleeping cat, its bristles and razor scales and spines laying flat so it looked like a smooth dull gray stone. Porters were running around the back of the cabin, a aerodynamic cylinder with a couple of portholes and two doors, unloading the luggage.

A man he'd served time with knocked shoulders with him, "So you coming back for more fun, Hillsman?" he asked.

"As delightful as losing my gag reflex was-" he paused when the he laughed "- I have other civil work to do."

The man nodded slowly. "That was a dumb question, Fanger," another platoons-man said to the older man. She was Spayar's age. "Spayar's d'aelar to the Prince. You're lucky the Prince didn't pull rank to pull him out sooner." Spayar grimaced. She didn't have to say it so loudly as now some normal passengers were looking at him. It was too early in the morning for him to have to look dignified. He did square out his shoulders at least.

"Right. Forgot that. You talk way too normal to fit in with those stuffy nobles," the man clapped Spayar on the shoulder hard.

It's almost like I'm educated and know when it's better to dumb myself down, Spayar thought but didn't say. "Have to bring them down to my level sometimes," he said with his best charming grin.

"Hillsman?" one of the porters called as they'd brought the luggage from the back. He slipped out from the man's grip and collected his luggage, a back pack and a small carry trunk. He saw the faded buoyancy weave on both items put on there before the flight to keep the weight down and just reconnected the threads. The bag and trunk immediately weighed a third of their normal weight. He picked up the trunk one handed after slinging the pack over his shoulder and walked off the landing platform and down to the post office below.

It was busy already at the Central Office but mostly of postal people, the odd flighter boredly waiting around for their daily trips, or the bustling blue dressed messengers. A few people already were in line to send their mail. He paid none of them any mind. He just wanted to get home.

There were taxis waiting outside the post office after an air travel landing. He just took the first one, a petty cab pulled by what looked like an ostrich if not for a face like a rat and lacking any feathers and was instead brown furred and covered in a smattering of black and dark brown spots. The driver sat astride it while Spayar loaded in. "Where to, fella?" the driver asked.

"Synnerstock street, number sixteen, out in Bellringer," Spayar said and gratefully sat in the taxi.

"Roger," and the driver urged the Pol'cobb forward and they were off at a good speed joining the mostly foot traffic of the city in downtown Assarus.

The trip out to Bellringer was not short and Spayar just leaned back in the taxi and watched the city fly by. He hadn't been home in two years while serving time but everything seemed more or less the same. He'd have to feed the birds as soon as he got a chance. He'd kept in touch with his friends and accomplices via letter or Seeing spell when he could manage but there were some things you didn't want to talk about over something like letters or spell that could be tracked or spied upon.

"Can we go through South Garden?" he asked the driver as they were leaving the downtown area and it looked like the driver was about to take the longer, if more scenic, route along Riverside and Tradesmen.

"Roger," the driver said and took a different street. Spayar thought South Garden was a pretty neighborhood too. Lots of hanging flower baskets or grow boxes in their windows but the cramped quarters of the houses prevented those who lived here from having proper gardens. The awnings here over the street were more colorful than the ones downtown and caused the light on Spayar's dark skin to cast it into different glows.

Entering Belringer was obvious as South Garden's streets were winding but Belringer had been laid out by strict city planners. The roads were neat and straight and there was more room for gardens for the homes, more breathing room for the inhabitants.

"Thirteen was it, fella?" the driver asked over his shoulder.

"Sixteen," Spayar corrected.

"Roger." The taxi came to a stop a few moments later. "This place?" the driver clarified.

"Roger," Spayar said and climbed out of the taxi. He pulled out his wallet and paid the driver and once he'd removed his luggage the driver kicked the pol'cobb off again and they were trundling down the street once more.

Spayar looked at the building he'd been left in front of. The front was a workshop and store front of his father's and behind was a large two story house with a large connected garden hidden by a high wooden fence. The front door was through the garden unless he wanted to pass through the shop front and he really didn't.

Much to his annoyance the garden door wasn't locked. He remembered always scolding his siblings about making sure the door was locked when they left or came home. He bet it was Duren, or maybe Anora. She was the more forgetful of the Hillsman siblings. But it benefited him today as he didn't have to fish his key out and entered the garden. It was full of late summer growth and early autumn sprouts, some tended to in neat rows and others left to grow more wild.

He locked the door as he headed for the front door. It also wasn't locked. He walked right in and Spayar was greeted by the smell of his mother's cooking from the kitchen where he heard her moving around and probably making a mess of things. She was a good cook if not a very tidy one. Spayar closed the door softly and went around to the three quartered walled kitchen. She didn't notice him at first.

At least he thought she didn't. "Duren you just had breakfast, lunch isn't for a while yet, go back to helping your father," she said in her sweet accented Feylian, not looking at him. Spayar smiled to himself. She thought he was his little brother. Spayar hoped he hadn't gotten as tall as Spayar was already.

"I would but Duren's not here," Spayar said giving his mother such a fright she nearly threw the spoon she was using to tend to whatever was on the stove.

Relora spun and let out a cry. Spayar grinned when his mother rushed over and gave him a great hug. She felt slight in his arms when he hugged her back. She was saying something excitedly in Dirnine but Spayar hated to admit he had trouble following. "Let me see you my sweet," she proclaimed in Feylian and stepped back to take his face in both her hands.

"Amma," he said with a tired smile looking at her. She was a dark skinned Dirinnan with a few freckles on the sides of her face and around her temples framing sea glass green eyes. Her forehead was high and her long black hair was pulled back in a neat single pleat and then pinned into bun on the top of her head. Specific scars decorated the middle of forehead of a vertical straight line and two lines curved against the straight parts. Spayar didn't know the meaning of the scars but his mother usually touched them when she prayed. She said something in Dirnine. "Amma, I forget," he complained.

That made her laugh. "You've only been gone two years, Junior," she said, her teeth white in her smile.

"I'm a dumb foolish boy though, amma," he whined.

"Oh, my poor foolish mazuk," she said and fondly patted his cheek. She kissed him on the cheeks and between the eyes. "You just arrived?"

"Yes. Took a flight from Fort Fetari here in the predawn."

She frowned, "Isn't that dangerous."

"Mail wyrms fly in the dark, amma, it was fine," he said hoping to alleviate some fear. "I want to get some sleep before lunch? Before I have to get to work," he sighed.

She laughed softly. "And you work so hard, Junior," she said gently. "But try to take a few days off hmm?"

"I'll see how long I can avoid the Prince then," he told her like a secret and she didn't look impressed by that at all knowing such a thing was impossible. "I'll get that nap in at least."

"Alright. I'll have Duren wake you for lunch," and she hugged him one more time. "You can tell us all about your time served over lunch."

"Sure," he tried not to groan. He would much rather forget it if he was honest.

She let him go and Spayar scooped his trunk back up and went upstairs. Down the hall his door was opposite his sister Calli's and he could hear her in her own room. He went into his own room. It was as he left it. Bed made, things organized and put away, everything filed where it was supposed to go. His bookshelf was orderly and his mother had come in here a few times to refresh the room as there was no dust and it didn't smell like old cleaning. Two windows let in mid morning light despite the curtains and made the room very bright. An old mobile of the solar system hung from the ceiling in the corner. He set the lightened trunk and back pack down and went over to mobile. Lightly he reached up and touched the fifth planet on the mobile and connected an old weave on it. He half expected it to have faded but was pleasantly surprised it was still there. He didn't know why. Tassa had made this weave and she was the strongest weaver he'd ever met.

While nothing about the room changed it got considerably darker in the room as the magic sprang into life over the windows as an invisible spider web, not allowing as much light in as before. Perfect for when you wanted to take a nap during the day or if you were hung over from the night before and the suns were just too much.

Spayar didn't even bother taking off any of his clothes except his boots, coat, and belt before face planting onto his bed with a groan.

He was woken by a small, dense, body throwing itself onto him. He started awake as arms wrapped around him. "De-de, time to wake up!" Duren cried at the top of his voice making Spayar's ears ring.

"I'm awake," Spayar said with all the affection one would have for a problematic isopod. It wasn't that he didn't love his baby brother he just did not love being jumped on.

"Amma said it was time for lunch," Duren said brightly.

"So I surmised," Spayar said and tried to sit up, impossible with a small child clinging to his waist. "Duren-- we can't go to lunch if you don't let me go."

"But I like hugging you," Duren said looking at him with the same green eyes their mother had. "I missed you."

Spayar softened despite his desire to be annoyed. Duren had gotten bigger since the last he'd seen him, both taller and wider. He had to be what, seven? Eight? He thought it was eight. Still chubbier than a normal eight year old with baby weight. He was cute so Spayar didn't mind. "Yeah but I'm hungry. Aren't you? Working with dad doesn't work up an appetite? I should tell him he's slacking-

"No! We work a lot," Duren insisted and climbed off Spayar. Spayar got up and didn't mind when Duren grabbed his hand. "You didn't come through the shop," he said as Spayar left his room, Duren in tow. He didn't hear Calli in her room and figured Anora was at school.

"Doo'suvf talks," was all Spayar said, speaking of their father. "And I wanted to come home and sleep."

"Hmph," Duren wasn't impressed and Spayar let go of his hand so they could walk down the stairs. Duren trundled down the steps two at a time, hopping off the final three steps, "Amma! I got Junior," he proclaimed.

"Duren I've told you not to jump from the higher steps," Relora scolded Duren who pouted at her, puffing up his cheeks and lips. "It's dangerous, you could hurt yourself."

"But I didn't amma," Duren said.

Spayar left his mother to scold Duren and wandered towards the dining room and-

Sitting next to his sister was someone very out of place in a family home of dark skinned Dirinnans. Or it would have been if Von hadn't spent most of their childhood sneaking out of the Palace to come have meals and sleepovers at Spayar's. "You," he pointed at Von sitting next to Calli.

They both whipped around at his voice. Von pointed right back. "You. What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" Spayar cried and Calli giggled into her hand. "What's your excuse?"

"I was in the area," Von said with that annoyingly handsome smile of his that made him like a sunbeam.

"Lemp's ball sack you were," Spayar said and sat across from Von at the table. Vondugard Le'Acard was Spayar's best friend and the most beautiful man he'd ever laid eyes on. All fair golden skin and hair with the most intensely cerulean eyes he'd ever seen. When he smiled he had dimples and wore his hair at a fashionable length around the top of his ears with a long front fringe that today he had pinned back with a gaudy silver unicorn rampart clip. Spayar didn't usually go for white guys but Von was an exception. As he was with everything. He was also a Crown Prince of the Alliance.

"He always comes and has lunch with us on Siscest," Calli said thoughtfully, rightfully snitching on him immediately.

"Since when?"

Calli just shrugged. "A while? Probably since your presence was missed in the Palace."

"I get no peace with the two of you together," Von said, hand to his forehead. Calli giggled. Calli looked a lot like Spayar but took more after their mother than their father with a high forehead, graceful nose and delicate hands. She was also lighter skinned than Spayar like their father. Spayar got Relora's nearly eggplant dark skin while Calli was simply a rich deep brown. They both also had their father's black eyes. Duren was the only one who'd gotten Relora's green eyes. She and Von were the same age and he was suddenly reminded that meant they've both start their own time served this year.

Duren joined them then, sitting next to Spayar and flopped his head on the table, thoroughly chastised by their mother. "You never mentioned you visited so often," Spayar said to Von.

"Was it so important? You know writing long letters bores me," he said dismissively. Calli giggled again.

"Yeah well I--!!" Spayar ended in a yelp when he was nearly lifted, seat and all, up into the air from behind. "Doo--im, stop," he complained to his father who had enveloped him and was kissing him on the face. How utterly embarrassing.

His father released him with a deep laugh and patted Spayar's shoulder hard. "You snuck around the side then, Junior?" he asked.

"I'd rather die than let your apprentices see you do that," Spayar said, deadpan. Spayar Senior was a handsome man with a shaved head and was growing his beard out for winter. Spayar knew his father could look incredibly intimidating but when he smiled, like now, it was utterly charming and disarming. He wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off his wide shoulders and strong arms covered in scars too imprecise to be anything but weapon wounds. Spayar looked a lot like him except Senior's face had a more firm jaw and a wider mouth. He was missing a few teeth but had replaced them with gold making his smile flashier than even Spayar's.

"Ah but it is my job to embarrass you as your father," Senior said with a charming smile that Spayar could mirror, his accent less pronounced than Relora's.

"At least wait until after lunch," Relora appeared with a pot of rice and Spayar perked up. He hadn't had rice while serving time.

Senior said something in Dirnine Spayar parsed out as something like 'yes, my beloved' and was more horrified at how bad his home language was just after two years serving time than he was at his parents being lovey dovey. Senior sat at the head of the table as Relora went back into the kitchen and brought out a full baked goose stuffed with grains and vegetables from the smell.

"Now where is Anora, school should have-

"Amma, dooim, I'm home!" the front door crashed open when the last Hillsman child came home from school for lunch hour.

"You come here willingly every week?" Spayar asked Von over the commotion of Relora sweeping over to Anora who was excitedly talking about school. Spayar had to put up with this because he loved his family but Von was the crown prince.

Von just smiled his beautiful smile. "It's much more fun than having lunch with my sister." For a moment his face turned brittle but only because Spayar knew what he was looking for.

"Which one? The idiot or the bitch-

"Oooh, de-de that's a bad word," Duren said next to him.

"Junior," Senior said like a warning even as he was carving the goose.

"It's not bad. It's just a grown up word and I'm a grown up now," Spayar said and stuck his tongue out at Duren who did the same to him, making an extra gross face as he did to make Spayar snicker.

Anora and Relora arrived at the table with Anora being a whirlwind of excited voice and hands. She was talking to Relora non-stop even as Relora got her into a chair. She looked a spitting image of their mother with a lower forehead and Senior's dark eyes and skin. Her long wavy hair was done in braided pigtails today. She was completely oblivious to Spayar and Von at the table as she started talking to Calli next. Senior put some goose and stuffing on Spayar's plate.

"Are you just staying for lunch?" Spayar asked Von while three other conversations were happening. It was a pretty typical meal for the household and for Dirinnans and cross talk was to be expected.

"We could hang out," Von said as he was served.

"I need to feed the birds," Spayar scooped some rice onto his plate.

"Right. I forget you do that."

"You talk to our friends?"

"Everyone's still alive if that's what you're asking."

"Tassa around?"

Von grimaced. "I dunno. You know she isn't fond of me."

"I think you underestimate her," Spayar said casually. "Is she?"

"I haven't seen her. We don't run in the same friend group."

Right, you two don't talk unless I'm around, Spayar thought with an internal sigh.

"-- Junior? Have you been here the entire time?" Anora suddenly asked him.

He looked at his little sister. Middle child with way too much energy. "Yes," he said patiently.

"And you just sat there!"

"You were talking to Calli- oof," he grunted when Anora hugged him tightly. "Uh-huh," Spayar said when Anora started talking to him rapidly about school and math. Spayar was the only one she could talk about math too since he was the only one in the family any good at it other than her. Not for the first time he reminded himself to talk to Senior about getting her an apprenticeship with an alchemist. She was old enough. He was only half following though as he scooped lunch into his mouth, giving indications he was listening. Anora rarely wanted a full conversation, she just wanted to tell you about what she was excited about and she was excited about many things.

Anora had him captive the rest of lunch and he half listened to everyone else's conversations while keeping up with her telling him about algebra. Calli and Von were having a pleasant conversation about Calli's new job she was starting this week at a watch maker, the last one she'd had at a florist had fallen through. Senior was talking across the entire table to Relora in Dirnine that Spayar was vaguely aware was about work. Senior was also talking to Duren about what they'd be doing after lunch.

He was so glad to be home.

Von was sitting on Spayar's bed while Spayar was digging through his carry trunk. The sounds of the city outside were dampened and even the light seemed faded and diffused in the room as the purple sun of the mobile glowed softly with magic. The room was effectively sealed from outside viewing, hearing, or scrying by all but the most powerful magic users. Von was leaned back casually on one hand waiting for Spayar to find what he was looking for.

"You really going to feed the birds today?" Von asked as Spayar found what he was looking for.

"Mom wanted to go shopping. I volunteered," Spayar said peeling back a final layer of clothes. It was a simple locked box about the length of his forearm that he picked up and put on his desk. There was no key hole or any sort of actual mechanism to open it, where a key hole would be just a solid piece of metal. To open a safe box like this you needed to be a mettalurgist. It just happened metal ran in the family. Needing no spell or weave Spayar smeared the solid iron down from the lock opening and released the lid from the bottom. He opened the box and pulled out a letter in a sealed envelope from among the items inside. The envelope was sealed with magic that would also make them explode should someone not the intended person open them. The intended person being Spayar himself.

He opened the envelope. "From Councilman Milo Theron," he said as he handed the paper inside to Von. He closed the safe box after.

"Who?" Von asked as he took the papers.

"Sinso's friend in Galinsum," Spayar said as Von unfolded the letter. "Councilman, very high up. Sinso was working on something in secret along with trying to figure out the perfect formulae to make someone vomit on command," he ended with a sigh as Von started reading.

"Sinso was your contact in the Arm, right?" Von clarified.

"Yes. If you asked him I was his little stooge," Spayar said as he put the safe box up on a shelf where it had gone before he'd served his time.

"You're so good at it though I'm not surprised," Von teased him and Spayar rolled his eyes. Von read the letter and his brows slowly furrowed seriously. Spayar sat in his desk chair while Von read the multiple page letter. "Hmm," Von said after a few minutes. "That sounds quite like treason if I was the Governor of Galinsum," he said casually.

"So he fits right in with us," Spayar said seriously.

"Who's the Governor there again? Remind me," Von said even as he read the letter again.

"Jengin Albera," Spayar recited dutifully.

"Right, the 'immortal alchemist'," Von said distractedly. "He's not Feylon is he?"

"No."

"Have we met him?"

"I don't believe personally. He does attend some of your mother's balls and galas though," Spayar said. "We've been introduced at the very least."

"Hmm," Von was very seriously reading the letter again. "Never thought I'd see proper war alchemy."

"It's potentially quite devastating," Spayar said.

"Have you seen it?"

"It was something Sinso was working on yes. Him and other alchemists serving in the arm, away from Galinsum and their pacifism."

"Can you get a message to Theo reliably?"

"He accepts mail."

"Is it screened?"

"He's a Councilman, I imagine not," Spayar said thoughtfully. Von got up from the bed and came to the desk. Spayar turned around and shuffled some papers out. "Ink or pencil?"

"Ink well," Von said and Spayar knew what he was going to do. If Spayar knew Von any less he'd think it was a gross over display of power but Von's entire family was a gross over display of magical ability. The tips of Von's fingers glowed orange and became sharpened like needles and Spayar watched him stitch together a weave in moments and a few complicated hand motions. Then Von put a glowing finger to the page and ink jumped out of the well directly onto the paper. Von didn't have to speak or even write it, the words were transcribed directly to the paper at the same speed as his thoughts. He'd seen Von do this enough times to not be overly impressed but the speed he could construct a well spoken letter was more impressive than the magic.

Von paused, lifting his finger from the paper, just to check something in the letter Theo had sent before putting it back down and finishing the letter. Then he tugged on a piece of the weave and it snapped closed into the perfect size to fit into an envelope. "I'll send it off when I go shopping," Spayar said looking for an envelope.

"Pay for expedited. I want it in his hands tomorrow morning," stepping away from the desk.

"Of course," Spayar said as he hand wrote the staffs of the address with a pen.

"If Theo is courting me what's the odds other Councilmen are courting my siblings?" Von asked quietly.

"Sinso made it sound like most Councilmen aren't interested in treason for personal gain."

"Then why is Theo?" Von said and looked at the letter again. "And why me?" he was particularly surprised by that one.

"You have a d'aelar," Spayar said throwing his arm around the back of his chair to turn and look at Von.

Von whipped around, blue eyes wide for a moment, and then he smiled slightly. "I do," he said smugly. "Don't remind Teldin," he added. Spayar laughed. "Was that all the work for today?"

"Yes," Spayar said standing, grabbing the envelope.

"Good," and Von used a spell to light the letter on fire. It burned to a crisp into ashes but didn't even mark his perfect hand.

"You made a mess in my room," he said, looking down at the ashes.

"You'll forgive me," Von said with a cute smile like he never thought Spayar wouldn't. And damnit if he wasn't right. I'd forgive you anything, Spayar thought and it was both fond and frustrated with him. "So, feed the birds?"

"You're coming?"

"Probably not. It bores me. And I'm sure my minders are missing me-

Spayar put his hand to the bridge of his nose, "Of course," he said, squeezing. Von just snickered. He raised his hand and disconnected the weave around the purple sun of the mobile and light and sound returned fully to the room.

"Now that you're back home we can start work properly," Von said even as Spayar brushed the ashes up to throw them away.

"Again," Spayar sighed grabbing his rain coat and hat for the low hanging clouds outside.

"Yes. Again," Von said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have ideas but I was waiting for you."

"Hopefully not on everything?" Spayar asked as they left his room.

"No. Just some big plays."

Calli's door opened as they were walking down the hall. "Junior," she called.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"You're going shopping for amma right?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm coming. Amma doesn't trust you not to take six years to do the shopping."

"I don't take six years," Spayar said with a slight roll of his eyes. But yes he did take longer to do the shopping only because he got the shopping done quickly and spent the rest of the day feeding the birds or people watching.

"Let me grab my coat," and she vanished back into her room.

"Still can't believe you came here every week to have lunch," Spayar mumbled to Von.

"Only for the cooking. I wouldn't bore your family with royal or court trivialities," Von said. "Even if Calli has raked me over the coals about it," he sighed.

"Why?"

"She has it in her mind-- ah Calli, is that the coat I got you?" Von asked, changing topics when Calli came out wearing a new rain coat of the sweetest pink color Spayar had ever seen, the outside shiny and waxed to keep the rain off.

Calli beamed even as she was pulling her long wavy hair up into a high tail. "Yes."

"You bought my sister a coat?"

"Seemed polite," Von shrugged.

"It was for National Day," Calli said quickly. National Day was a country wide holiday that marked the official first day the first Asuras, Sinou, had taken the throne almost two thousand years ago. It happened in high summer when the moon flowers bloomed along the Meltong. "He got Anora one too and Duren new rain boots."

"Didn't get me anything," Spayar complained.

"You were four provinces away," Von groaned. "What was I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, visit?" Spayar groused even as they headed down the stairs. Behind him Von was saying some groveling type of apology while Calli giggled. Spayar wasn't really upset but it was always a good time to tease Von. The prince needed it. "Mom, do you have your shopping list?" he called once down on the first floor, not quite sure where Relora was.

"It's on the table," her voice called from the sitting room.

Spayar scooped it up. "So you're coming," he pointed at Calli, "and what are you doing?" he pointed at Von.

"I'll find something to do. We're having a get together at Red Garter tonight, coming?"

"Maybe."

"Can I?" Calli asked.

"No," Spayar said immediately.

Calli rolled her eyes. "Why not?"

"Because it's a drug bar," Spayar said keeping his voice down so Relora didn't hear. He saw the tips of Calli's ears turn red. Unlike Spayar most of his siblings were quite sheltered and being raised by immigrants they didn't always have the same proclivities as typical Feylon. Especially at places like a bar. Also there would be boys there and Spayar couldn't get high or enjoy himself knowing some leech might touch his sister.

"I- fine," she huffed, cheeks puffing out slightly. She went and gathered up the shopping bags.

"Red Garter's not that bad," Von said quietly as they followed her.

"No," Spayar said again. "Unless you want to be the one keeping an eye on her?"

"What? No. She's your sister."

"Exactly. No."

"Will you two stop whispering and come on," Calli groaned. "The meteorologists said the rains were starting today."

"They say that every day starting the middle of J'dorr," Spayar said.

"And aren't they right?" Calli asked.

"Eh, sometimes," Spayar allowed and did follow Calli out. The clouds did seem much lower than earlier though so Spayar put the envelope into an inside pocket of his coat and put his hat on over his wavy hair.

"You didn't bring a rain coat Vondugard," Calli said as they stepped out from the porch and into the garden.

"Oh, I'll be fine," Von said cheerfully. "You know the rain doesn't bother me."

Calli just looked confused. "He's a warlock, Calli," Spayar said, unimpressed.

"So?" she blinked at them both even as a slight misting started to fall from the sky. She pulled up the hood of her rain coat. Von just once more coated his fingers in magic and made a complex weave. The rain began beading up on an invisible barrier he'd woven around himself. It was wide enough that any large enough drops didn't even touch him and just fell harmlessly off to the side.

Calli looked at Spayar, "You can't do that."

"I don't want to do that," Spayar huffed. "Show off," he told Von and headed for the street.

"Well what's the point of being Le'Acard if I can't show off sometimes?" Von said following after him. "And this is where I say farewell my Hillsman friends," he beamed all sunshine on a miserable day. Spayar hated his fool heart for fluttering. He'd known Von how many years and he still got all silly?

"Don't get into trouble," Spayar said.

"Me? I would never," and with a wave he walked off.

Spayar and Calli stood there for a moment watching him walk off, a spring in his step. "He's such a pain in the ass," Spayar declared and then turned and walked the other way. Calli laughed into her hand as she followed after Spayar.

====+====

Tag list: @full-on-sam @thegodsaredead

If you'd like to be pinged for this let me know. Replies or asks are fine. Reblogs would be wonderful and are encouraged. My ask box is open if you wanna know more~

ZS tag | Masterpost | References | Read it on AO3

[callmearcturus]

voice test: PT Benji AU

back when this AU was simpler (i.e. three days ago) I wrote a fast voice check for it. now the outline has, uh, evolved so this snippet might not be in the final product, but here.

this was directly inspired by that gifset I just reblogged.

It was a cool day in December, and the next session on Benjamin Dunn's calendar was tastefully redacted.

These appointments showed up on his digital calendar as blank blocks. No name, no information, just a colored square stretched out, taking up space and ensuring no one else booked him for the slot.

This was, in Benji's opinion, really stupid. These blank appointments only meant one thing; an agent of the Impossible Mission Force was on their way to see him. He understood that the IMF didn't legally exist in any way, so signs of its presence were always obscured. But since no one else used the same tactic on his calendar, it meant the implications were pretty damned obvious once you knew what they meant.

Sighing, Benji worked on finishing his notes on the rehab session he'd just completed.

There was a single knock at his door before it opened. "You're ten minutes early," Benji said, fingers still moving at decent 60 WPM clip as he summarized his last appointment.

"What, you haven't been waiting on bated breath for me? I'm hurt, Benji," Ethan Hunt said, shutting and locking the door behind him as he arrived.

"You're always hurt, Mr. Hunt," Benji pointed out, leaning to look around the monitor of his computer, taking in a cursory preview of what bullshit Ethan had put himself through this time. It had been almost six months since Ethan's last appointment, which was ample time for him to get into an impressive amount of trouble.

Also, point of fact: Ethan was never early to his appointments. This was an incident that defied precedent and thus made Benji nervous.

But at a glance, Ethan seemed fine, his hands in his jacket pockets, his head moving and turning with ease as he looked over Benji's office.

"Hey, you have initials on your name plate," Ethan said, picking up the little bronze stand at the corner of Benji's desk. "Did you wrap up your doctorate? Am I finally talking to the esteemed Doctor Benjamin Dunn?" He lifted his eyes to Benji's and grinned.

"I'm afraid so," Benji said sincerely. "Three more years of my life just thrown on the pyre of higher education."

"Congratulations. Sorry I missed the commencement."

"So did I, I was booked that afternoon." With a rueful shake of his head. "Thank you, really. But you're still early, so have a seat and I'll be over to poke at you in a bit."

As he continued to type, Benji slowly realized that Ethan didn't want to sit. He hovered around the sofa, leaning in to examine some of the playbills Benji had framed on his bookcase, killing time before finally dropping onto a cushion.

The moment he did, it was a mistake; Ethan pressed his fist down against the seat, pushing, his body moving. A long curve bent his spine, his head tipping over the back of the sofa, his tailbone rising right off the seat. "Christ," he muttered, teeth grit. Once he was suspended like that, a javelin's arch from his neck to his knees, he stopped, tensed, body humming.

Benji was on his feet in an instant, circling his desk and going to Ethan, taking hold of his other hand and hooking fingers under Ethan's belt. "For god's sake, Ethan, don't hurt yourself." With both anchors in hand, Benji pulled, helping Ethan back to his feet.

Steadying himself, Ethan gripped Benji's forearm. "Shit, I didn't expect it to hurt that much. I've been keeping mobile."

"I can see that," Benji said, waiting patiently for Ethan to relocate his footing. "What was it this time?"

"Had to climb a sheer wall, thirty foot."

"Ethan…"

"That was the easy part, actually. Falling down the other side, that's what got me. Landed awkwardly."

Benji wasn't sure there was a good way to land from a thirty foot drop. Guiding Ethan along, he drew him over to the table. "Can you lay on your back?"

"Probably," Ethan said, with enough uncertainty Benji understood why he'd arrived so early to his appointment. Helping him up, Benji untied and removed Ethan's shoes, bending his knees so his feet were planted, his legs forming shallow mountain peaks.

"I'm going to flip on the heating element and you're going to wait for me to finish up my notes," Benji prescribed firmly. "Then we'll see about what the hell you've done to your sciatica this time."

"Can't I have it removed at this point?" Ethan asked, breathing deep and even in a way that was more practiced than natural.

"Not how that works," Benji said. Lingering, he rested his palm on Ethan's forearm, watching the shape of his body, looking for any more signs of acute pain.

Rolling his head to the side, looking up at Benji, Ethan said, "I'm good. You can finish your notes, Dr. Dunn."

"Oh, now I get an honorific," Benji groused. "A simulacrum of respect."

"Nothing simulated about it, Benji," Ethan said a touching amount of sincerity. 

Which was very kind, but did not last long. In fact, it landed exactly as long as it took for the session to start, when Benji folded Ethan's leg up to his chest. 

Ethan cursed a blue streak.

"I have no idea," he ground out, word by word, "why I come here year after year. I'd been in barfights that don't beat me up like you."

Rolling his eyes, Benji boldly hooked Ethan's leg over his shoulder and patted his stomach. "Breathe."

He inhaled. Exhaled. "Ow."

"I don't know, Agent Hunt," Benji said, voice like vanilla, sweet and mild as he gave Ethan an approving pat. "This always happens, and yet you show up ten minutes early like a pain in the ass."

"I'm being a good patient," Ethan countered. 

Benji released Ethan's leg, guiding it flat with firm hands as he watched for when the pain kicked in. As soon as the muscle corded, tensed, he helped brace it. "I don't know who's been fibbing to you, but you haven't been a good patient a single day of your life."

[trans-top-stede]

Hello. So I had this funny idea after reading Sex Ed to leave a comment about my own dead batteries in the style of a fic, but accidentally wrote 1750 words. Enjoy!

“Wanna do something weird?” Ed asks.

Stede is barely through the door when his roommate addresses him. “Sure,” he says without a thought. Because, honestly, there isn’t much Stede wouldn’t do if Ed wanted to do it with him.

He looks up to see Ed sitting on his bed, in nothing but a pair of black boy shorts, his box of sex toys in front of him. Well, that gets Stede’s blood going pretty much immediately. He turns to lock the door behind him, toes off his shoes before he makes his way to his own bed. But oh? What’s this?

Ed is sliding his collection back under the bed.

“Erm, what did you have in mind?” Stede tries to keep his voice light, tone inquisitive. He’s always ready to learn after all.

“See, I was about to enjoy some solo time, but now that you’re here, I figured the time could be spent more productively.”

Stede’s heartbeat picks up. It’s been a week or so since The Vibrator Incident, and they haven’t really talked about it. Of course, Stede had been using Ed’s toys whenever he got a moment alone. Always cleaning them thoroughly, then putting them away in different spots than he found them, making sure Ed would know which ones he’d explored when he returned to find something for his own enjoyment.

“Why don’t you teach me something?” Ed leans back, ghosts his fingers across his crotch.

“Well, you’re the expert.” Stede is fumbling, on uneven footing. “I mean, it’s right there in the name.”

Ed grins deviously, “with the electronics, yeah. But it’s been ages since I’ve done it acoustic style. And if I recall, you might be just the guy to give me a few pointers.”

Stede is undressing, slowly this time. He’s not sure exactly how this is gonna play out, but he’s definitely going to need less clothes.

The tables have turned, but the game is still the same.

“Ah, I see, if it’s for the sake of an education, I suppose I can share what I know.” He’s standing in just his underwear now.

“Awesome.” Ed scrambles across the four feet separating their beds and perches himself cross-legged at the foot of Stede’s bed.

Stede takes a breath and sits at the head of the bed opposite his friend, mirroring his position.

“So, what would you like to know?” Stede casually rubs the front of his briefs, hoping he’s coming off nonchalant.

Ed mimics him, still grinning. “I dunno, mate, why don’t you just do what you normally do and I’ll butt in if I need more info.”

“Ah, alright. Well, usually I start like this.” He’s still rubbing his right hand in broad circles at the front of his underwear. After a moment, he closes his eyes, adding a little pressure as his focus gradually shifts from performing for Ed to pleasuring himself.

He can feel himself leaking and wonders if the wet spot is visible yet. Tuning into the sounds around him, he hears Ed’s breath hitch and figures that answers his question.

He opens his eyes. Ed is closer than he was before, staring intently at Stede’s wandering hand. He feels his heart rate pick up.

“Yes, I take it you’ve noticed I’m rather wet now. That is usually a good indication that it’s time to um, lose the briefs.” Before he can second guess what he’s doing, he slips them down his legs. his impressive t-dick popping free.

Nothing his roommate hasn’t seen before.

Except he knows his cock is slick and glistening and he knows he’s blushing all the way down his chest.

There is no chance to feel insecure though, because Ed is lifting himself to remove his own damp undies.

Stede reaches back down to draw his pointer and middle finger along either side of his cock, squeezing them together and pressing firmly upwards. He needs to remind himself to breathe as he watches Ed do the same.

“It looks- it looks like you’re getting the hang of it.” Stede is slowly stroking up and down the sides of his cock and Ed is copying him, holding a rather intense amount of eye contact.

Stede’s eyes flick down to Ed’s hand just in time to see him sink one tattooed finger into his cunt.

“Nuh uh uh,” Stede tsks importantly. “That’s not quite correct.” He feels ridiculous criticizing the exquisite scene in front of him. But if Ed wants to know what it Stede feels, Ed needs to do what Stede does. That’s the game. “Why don’t you come a bit closer so you can see more clearly.”

Ed scoots closer, their legs still crossed like pretzels, their knees now touching. Stede imagines he can feel the heat of Ed’s arousal on his own cunt and the thought sends a little gush from within.

Ed leans in very close, definitely invading Stede’s personal bubble. “Ah, I think I understand now,” Ed nods, solemnly.

“Alright, then we’re going to try another technique.” Stede switches to his non-dominant hand, making that snug little V and holding the sides of his cock tightly. He takes a deep breath, and with his other hand he spreads some of his own slick up over and around, making sure there’s plenty on the pads of his fingers. “The aim here is to - erm - stimulate the cockhead, ah, rather vigorously.”

He's gasping a little as he begins to rub his right hand over the V of his left fingers, squeezing the large nub almost painfully.

“Fuck, Stede,” Ed murmurs, drawing little circles with his fingertips, his pace matching Stede’s exactly. “That feels really nice.”

“It’s important,” Stede struggles to keep his voice instructional. “It’s important to remember to use enough lubrication so as not to irritate the sensitive skin here.” He’s gasping by the end of his sentence. His hand taking on a mind of its own as he switches from small circles to a more aggressive back-and-forth motion.

“Mate, as long as I can remember this insanity, I don’t think I’m gonna have a problem with lubrication.” Stede’s heart skips a beat.

That pretty much confirms it, right? That Ed thinks of him when he does this? That those thoughts are enough to bring about a particular set of physical responses?

“Ah, well, glad to hear it.” Stede is getting close, but it doesn’t look like Ed is quite there yet. “How are you feeling?” His question rushes out of him.

“Good. I like it. I don’t think I can come from this though.” Ah, that makes sense. Ed’s poor dick has become desensitized after years of mechanically assisted stimulation.

Stede slows his hand, his body aching for release. “There is another thing we can try.” Ed quirks an eyebrow, his hand not slowing. “I noticed in addition to vibrators, you had a couple um, static options in your collection.”

It takes Ed a second. “Dildos? Dude are you talking about dildos?”

Stede nods. “Sometimes, when I feel, um, particularly insatiable,” this is when Stede begins to feel vulnerable, “I’ve found… I can…”

“Stede,” Ed’s voice is serious, but his eyes are twinkling. His hands have stilled. “You said you’ve never used toys before.”

“I’d never used a vibrator!” Stede retorts, “besides, you don’t need a dual density silicone dick with life-like veins from a bonafide sex shop to fuck yourself.” He can tell Ed is holding back laughter, but it doesn’t make him close down. If anything, it floods his heart with warmth. He wants to make him laugh. “Have you ever heard of a cucumber, Ed?!”

And laugh he does. Ed throws his head back, glorious curls almost brushing the bedspread behind him. Stede is transfixed by the sight of him, chest wide, gorgeous. Throat long and bare. He’s overwhelmed by the desire to put his mouth there. To work his way up to his mouth and kiss him as long and hard as he’d let him.

He shakes his head, claps his hands together. “So!” He gets up and goes to Ed’s bed, pulling out the box from underneath. Takes a steadying breath. He’s never done this with someone else before, never considered he might. Quickly, he finds two similar dildos at the bottom of the box, a sure indication that they haven’t seen much action lately.

He returns to his side of the room, offering one of the rubber dicks to his roommate like he’s breaking bread. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, yeah sure.” Ed sounds almost breathless. Stede settles back against his pillow, arranging the additional throw pillows and shams to the side.

“I was thinking, you could join me up here,” he pats the space by his side, heart racing, “to better observe, um, angles and such?” It’s a reach and he knows it, but Ed allows it graciously. Maybe he wants to feel the warmth of Stede’s bare hip and leg pressed up against his own, as badly as he does.

As his roommate settles in beside him, Stede breathes deeply, steels himself for what he fears will be a very rapid climax.

“So, are you still..,”

“Wet? God, Stede, more than ever.”

“Okay, great!” he squeaks, “me too!”

Without a word, Stede resumes his movements from earlier. He can feel Ed’s gaze on him as he resolutely keeps his eyes straight ahead.

All too quickly, he feels his orgasm start to build. “For me,” he’s speaking too loudly but he needs to force the words out, “this would be a good time to introduce, um, the penetrative element.”

“Okay, mate, okay. Hang on.” Stede can do that, he can hang on a moment. Leaves the dildo still, halfway consumed by his body. Slows his hand to a torturous brush against his cock.

Ed is ramping up. One hand pistoning his cunt the other flying back and forth against his cock. “Errrr,” he grunts, “say it.”

Whatever is he talking about?

“Stede, I NEED you to say it!”

Oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Stede’s hands copy Ed’s as he speaks, voice low.

“Edward, come for me; I want to see you come.”

Ed roars as he comes and the sound of it pushes Stede entirely over the edge.

HOLY SHIT this is my new favourite thing. if only Ed had tried that, they might've been able to figure their shit a little sooner! Thank you SO MUCH for this, I'm so deeply flattered! (also it's super fucking hot, and the cucumber line killed me)

[spaceofentropy]

From one of my WIPs, the one I can share something from. Just because.

It's a Camaro and Billy loves it for a whole fifteen seconds.

His dad takes him to Bob's Used Car Lot on Saturday afternoon. Neil and the owner shake hands, calling each other by first name like they're old friends, and then it's Billy's turn to shake the hand of the short, wiry man with a bald head and a giant black moustache, and tell him that it's a pleasure to meet him, sir. They stay a couple of minutes under the sun, the adults sharing platitudes like they've known each other for a lifetime, when in truth they've been in Indiana for a couple of days only and Neil first set foot here this morning. Neil is good that way, when he wants to. Knows how to put on the affable charm of an upstanding citizen, the kind of man who would never think of beating his wife, never dare to put a finger on his kid.

Bob leads them through the lot, making a beeline between the cars. They shine under the sun, not a speck of dirt on the bodies, tire rims glinting. There are placards behind each windshield, boasting low mileage or, when that's impossible, cheap prices and guaranteed reliability. Bob leads them to the back of the lot, past the more recent, pricier automobiles, towards what are clearly not the crown jewels of his stock.

They sidestep the rustiest Ford truck Billy's ever seen (the placard behind the windshield says it's only 250 dollars, which in Billy's opinion is roughly 200 dollars too many) and an old Nova the color of a fresh turd (this one should go for 240$ but it's discounted at 200 for some unknown reason, probably its color). Behind them, just at the end of the lot, is a Camaro with no placard.

The body is painted a dark blue that reminds Billy of freedom and the ocean, the way the sea and the sky meet on the horizon when the sun has set. Those thick curtains Argyle put up in his bedroom last year, to block some of the early morning sunlight. It's a beautiful color, it just reminds Billy of all the things he doesn't have, landlocked and alone at his father's mercy in the middle of bumfuck Indiana.

But now there's a used Camaro in front of Billy, a promise of speed made of metal, and good god, it's a thing of beauty.

And Billy loves it.

For the fifteen seconds it takes him to slowly circle the car all the way to the driver's side, where he finds himself having to take a step back while he grits his teeth.

The driver's door is off-white. The bodywork around it is all dented and scarred, the paint scraped off in places, and the side mirror's kept attached to the door by a not-generous-enough amount of tape, so it hangs at a wrong angle, like a dead flower dangling from a broken stem.

A breathy "What the fuck!" is out of his lips before he can stop himself, but lucky him his dad is too busy exchanging more small talk with Bob to notice Billy's lack of appreciation now that he sees the actual state of the car.

This Camaro was T-boned and nobody took the time or the minimum effort to repair it decently. Not even a new paint job. Jesus. He wants to ask how much Neil paid for this busted piece of crap, but that would be a sure way to earn himself a beating once they're home.

So Billy bites back everything that's churning inside of him and puts on an appropriately enthused expression. He's got a car! Everything is perfect! Who cares if it looks like shit on one side! So fucking perfect!

Bob hands him the keys and says something about this being the right car for a kid like him. Billy plasters a smile on his face and nods, yeah, totally, perfect, a car that looks like a piece of junk is exactly what he's always wanted in life. Pairs all too well with the shitshow that are his past, his present, and most likely his future.

A broken and battered car for a kid who routinely gets an educational beating from his upstanding father.

Perfect.

The door opens with a loud squeal and as soon as he makes to sit behind the wheel, Billy finds himself fighting the urge to bolt out. The car... the car doesn't want him. It's a feeling that jumps straight at him the moment his right foot touches the carpeting and the shadow of the roof of the car covers half of his body. The Camaro doesn't want to be driven, doesn't want anyone touching its interiors, doesn't want to be moved from here.

There's something absolutely wrong with this car.

And Billy is trapped.

Caught between a hammer and a hard place. Between his father's expectations that Billy'll be grateful for the car he so generously bought him; and the Camaro not wanting Billy or anyone else in its driver seat.

Neil shoots him a cold gaze from a few feet away, where Bob is telling him to have a good day. It’s the kind of gaze that asks what's wrong and is ready to jump to conclusions.

The choice is simple.

Billy sets in the driver seat even if he'd rather peel his skin off with a dull knife and nods to his father as he slams the door shut. Like nothing noteworhty is happening. Like this is only the last one in a long line of selfless, loving sacrifices his dad's made for the sake of Billy's happiness.

Sure.

Billy adjusts the seat and the rearview mirror, and cranks down the window. He can’t but notice how the passenger window works electronically. Whoever installed the new door, didn’t even care enough to find a matching one!

He grits his teeth against the impulse to scamper out of the car and instead eases the Camaro out of its parking spot, until he’s close to Bob and can ask him where he can buy some car parts here around. Instead of telling him a fucking address, like anyone sane would, the guy tells him to take this road and then turn left on that one, and then…

“Drive a mile until you find a red barn on the left. Just past it, turn right. Right, not left.”

“Turn right past the barn on the left,” Billy repeats, mechanically.

“Exactly. A bit aways, you’ll find Jones’ Auto. If they don’t have it, they can order it. Tell ‘em Bob sent you.”

Billy swallows down a they won’t need me to say a thing to know I bought this piece of metal from Bob, the shit cars seller! and just waves a fake grateful hand at Bob, before driving his new wheels back to Cherry Lane, hating the car almost as much as the car seems to hate him.

[filmophilea]

the different stages of song writing from one falling chair to the other › ej & elena.

the page is bare except for the title on the top left corner, ‘there are monsters in my closet.’ slender digits fidget with the pen, cap dislodged as he carefully swirls it between the back of his thumb and index. the piece of paper is so blank and depressing that it’s screaming back at him in despair but he thinks to himself, this isn't too bad. the deadline is, what, in a day? totally doable.

so he proceeds to wait until the last possible minute before starting and the next thing he knows he’s couped in a hotel room somewhere in tokyo, a show to catch in eight hours, sleep to bank on for at least three and an album draft that he’s got absolutely nothing on.

he doesn’t sit himself down, even though he really should. instead he makes a run for the lawson’s a block away because he needs all the sustenance he can get as he sources his folders on his phone that somehow contains 243 unread articles.

53:41 length youtube documentary from 2008.

safari? maybe so, inspiration could be sitting somewhere in the 103 tabs open.

the elevator door dings, opens wide and he slips inside, eyes constricting at the brightness of his screen.

click, scroll, click, tap, tap, boom. brightness fixed. there are monsters in my closet. cool, cool, cool, he’s got this.

six words, twenty-six letters. he thinks to the speed writing song seminar he just attended, thinks on the 80/20 rule and lets his thoughts wander as he aimlessly makes his way out of the elevator. the doorman greets him and ej salutes because why not?

then he thinks of coffee. it's technically my first coffee of the day because it's past midnight, he thinks as he ponders over hot or iced, decaf or caffeinated. he thinks hard over something that should be an easy decision but alas there’s a preschool that he passes by and he stops in the middle, stealing references from their educational and promotional posters. his japanese is basic at its best but he can read pretty well.

leave the lights on. the stars don’t want to sleep until it’s time. good night.

click, scroll, click, tap, tap. an email chain is sent to his creative director and fellow producer, 4:13am: is being a dumb fuck a valid reason for an extension? he snorts and think of the title funny as he tries to configure how to set the font in times new roman, size 12, double spaced. how the fuck do you do this on the phone?

he breezes through the entrance of lawson and makes his way to the refreshments aisle where several tables are conveniently set adjacent to. he purses his lips and pulls a stool to sit on, picking up on the original task. writing the set list? the email? no yeah no, the archives you dumbfuck.

he sorts through a few drafts he actually likes. more than a few, there’s actually quite a lot of it and who knew being in a 24-7 convenient store would give all the motivation? an hour passes and the only thing he can think of is did i just plagiarize an original work of mine? fuck it, we ball, and then hits submit. it’s quarter to six now and he knows this because his alarm jolts him awake just as a figure crouches over the aisle right across, a small section allotted animals. food and toys and a few other knick knacks that puts any pet store’s decor to shame because theirs is actually pretty well made. he stares at ground and tries to find his way back to his own business when he sees the kuromi tattoo on the ankle. he takes a second glance at her profile, a loud gasp bubbling from his lips.

“oh shit, elena?!” he hurriedly stands in excitement so quickly that he stumbles over his own footing, knocking over several stools on top of the other like a domino effect. the staff behind the counter begins to shuffle towards the rare commotion and he quickly grabs her by the arm, tossing one over her shoulder and ushering her towards the exit.

he thinks he hears laughter from her but he could be hallucinating. and wow is that the sun? it’s morning time?

and when she tells him what a coincidence it is that they’re both in town at the same and she asks him how he’s been, he tells her, “i think understand my next album a lot less now. how about you?”

[blorbologist]

Hello! I don't know if this is strange to ask but I feel safe asking you, (if this is invasive don't worry about answering at all)

How did you get into biology? was it always your dream? was the courses and school worth it? did you do very well biology and math wise in highschool? how often do you use math in your field?

- Someone considering the biologist field

Hi there anon!

I'm so sorry this is so late - I've had a busy month both due to my personal life, fandom and academics. I'll try my best to answer, and I'm really flattered you asked me ;;

Now, full disclaimer: I'm working on my Master's thesis. I currently intend on pursuing a PhD and remaining in academia, but who knows what will happen. Maybe I get the offer of a lifetime and work as the behaviorist for a zoo! Or maybe I find happiness in a workplace only tangentially associated with biology. So there are a lot of unknowns I can't answer. But I can answer what you've got so far!

Getting into biology was not too different, at least initially, from most STEM: it meant a lot of chemistry, and physics, and high-level math. Come CEGEP and then Uni (French-Canadian education system, eh?), I continued to be funneled down the STEM pipeline, at least initially, which meant competition was very intense with pre-med, neuroscience and the likes. By my second year of uni (third for most), though, I was able to start taking the really BIO-oriented classes, and from there started scouting out profs whose class and research focuses I enjoyed for a potential research project. Doing a research project in your last year (or sooner! I was just set back by COVID) is an incredible foot in the door; it showed me what science is like in the day-to-day, introduced me to many seminars to Zoom in on and which publications to watch, and of course was a massive networking boon by getting to be in touch with the head of my lab + grad students directly. It's also a good test run as to if this is for you. From there, it's reaching out to potential labs (before grant deadlines! Start looking NOW if you're graduating this academic year!). Look at the PI's recent publications, their lab's website, what direction they are taking their research into, where you're willing to go / how far you're willing to deviate from your goal research. Have a project or two in mind. In my case I talked to two labs - one initially did not have space and referred me to others in their field I might like, and one of their suggestions I talked to had too many students to take me on. Lo and behold, my OG first pick ended up having a spot - an interview later, plus some meetings with the current grads so I could ask what the lab was like, and I'm writing this instead of making sure my data is tidy before sending it to my PI :P

TBH, it was a lifelong interest with the critters around me. I grew up in rural Quebec and so had a lot of opportunities to go outside and Find Things. My brother and I would trudge out to the pond to catch frogs and minnows and - if we were super lucky! - garter snakes or snapping turtles. But it was also the weird emerald green bugs that'd bite us, or watching wasps build a nest, and seeing how waterstriders dance. Our parents fostered a lot of that interest; my dad always encouraged us to always put animals back where we found them, to not hurt plants, to be mindful of the living space. And I do appreciate my mom swallowing her disgust at the nth Animal Planet documentary with animals dying graphically pft. Steve Irwin was an idol to kid me, though now I'd quibble with how he would interact with wild animals and stress them out, I cannot understate how many people my age he got to really get fascinated by so many creatures. I'd credit my interest in dinosaurs for a lot of this too, because wow, the world has selected for some mighty cool animals over time! How did they interact? What could select for traits that extreme? Or, inversely, what makes them stick around?

Sidebar, but a moment that sticks out to me is when my brother and I stumbled on a host of the local garter snakes leaving a brumation hide (and probably a mating ball). We caught twelve of them, including regulars we recognized. It's what got me thinking about snake behavior, about their social lives, about if they remember who they spent a good third of the year with in a tiny cramped crevice by the stream.

See, the courses initially sucked: either because I was taking chem and physics prerequisites instead of getting to do dissections and look under a microscope, or because I was in a high-stress environment decided to try and weed out potential doctors and neuroscientists and pharmacists while I just wanted to study animal behavior (and neurobiology). So those first years were really hard - but finding joy to appreciate what I was learning here and there definitely helped a lot, and I appreciate the work ethic I developed as well. Once I got into the more specialized courses things really relaxed - still a lot of learning and refining my skills, but there was less of a selection pressure on students and the professors had smaller, more interested classes, so it all went far better. I remember those ones fondly <3

I did very well in math - I didn't get any biology classes in secondary school (again, STEM prerequisites), but I can tell you that chemistry kicked my ass and physics would sometimes throw me curveballs. And the only class I've ever failed was Calculus 2 in CEGEP :p

I work specifically with animal behavior research - so it's less about math and more understanding the biology and behavior of my animals and making sure I remain consistent with experiments, accounting for as many potential factors as possible. However, math does come up. Sometimes you're TAing for a course and need to dose rats with caffeine; sometimes you're making snake oil at a specific concentration; sometimes you're preparing solutions for a perfusion. However, at least in my area, it's mostly low-level math - and in the lab I did my undergrad research in, I can confirm it took myself and two grad students to figure out some pretty simple equations together, but we got through it XD Outside of the lab context, you will be using a lot of stats to back up your findings - so brush up on those, and be ready to ask for help if needed. OFC more technically finite research than 'put snake in arena see what it do' will require more math than me, but being a bit weaker at it isn't a career-ender. Just be ready to ask labmates for help and be ready to learn.

HOWEVER, I will note that one thing that really helped me get my foot in the door was coding. Take a coding class or two - the field is leaning heavily towards automating what it can and/or using automated learning algorithms to back up findings ('look, even a machine can detect these differences and classify X Y Z based on them with high accuracy!'). At least a basic grasp of a couple coding languages is essential going forward, and from what I can tell most labs are really expecting this from their grad students.

Hopefully you see this, and hopefully it's of some help in deciding what path you want to take! Or maybe it'll help someone else - regardless, wishing you the best! <3

[oldguy56-world]

Revenge of the Nerds

Full disclosure. I have a hard time figuring out when getting revenge is the right thing or avenging is the right thing. I know one involves when something is done to you and the other is when something is done to someone else, but there is a blurry line between the pair. In either case it is about trying to make something right that is very wrong. It is a cautionary tale however. There are times when you just need to let it be.

An example of that takes place in boxing or MMA fighting. You have just had your face pounded in during a severe one sided pummeling. Usually the loser can be heard asking for a rematch to avenge the loss. (or is it a rematch so he can get revenge? I am getting a headache.) Is this really what he should be doing? One more blow to his already addled brain and we are talking a lifetime of wearing a drool bucket around his neck.

That example aside, there are things that I see requiring some serious fixing to make this right. I am only bringing up cases that have affected me personally, hurting my way of life and happiness.

Whoever designs food packaging. Stop putting goodies in oversized boxes and bags, raising my hopes of how much is contained. These people should be made to wear oversized clothing all the time, or if they put things in cello bags that are almost impossible to open without scissors, undersized clothes. When I want the food I want it now.

Educators. We were in a store today and one employee called over to another asking 'how much is 9 and 6?'. Seriously? Don't even get me going on spelling and grammar. Each year students should be tested at the end of the year for basic reading, writing and arithmetic. (how in the heck are these 3 r's?) If more than two students fail the basics but are still told they can move on to the next grade the teacher should have to attend mandatory summer school as a student themself. They can't leave until they get it right. Am I avenging the poor undereducated students or getting revenge for having to stand in line while someone takes out a calculator to see how much change to give me when the price is $4 and I give them a $5 bill?

To all the lousy drivers out there that keep cutting me off regardless of if I am driving or walking. I want to be outfitted with a rocket launcher in my car and a laser cannon that fits in my pocket. Retribution would be swift plus it would clear the road nicely.

For anyone that likes to give wedgies develop underwear that emits a toxic nerve gas as soon as the elastic moves past your belt line. Have it local so the only one affected is the one standing directly behind you.

Make it so the doors of stalls in public washrooms cannot open until the toilet is flushed. That'll teach a nice lesson.

If you have a tall neighbor that always looks down at you and calls you shorty, arrange for an NBA player to move in beside them. Watch them sweat as they realize their six foot high fence will not keep out unwanted gazes.

If someone gives you a crappy gift for Christmas or your birthday hang on to it and just give it back next year. Give them an icy stare as they open it. The only thing that is worse than Christmas cake is a year old Christmas cake.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: No one ever made their life better by holding on to a grudge.

[nothinghereisworking]

A Promise of the Sun - on SWG

Posted to SWG @silmarillionwritersguild for Middle-earth Is Multitudes challenge, combining prompts: elderly characters, women, adolescents, mobility issues, low-vision, and characters of color

Rated: G Category: Gen Characters: Bëor & Finduilas Wordcount: 874

The roles of youth and age trade places.

Finduilas may be one of the few among the Eldar of Nargothrond who can understand the changes which age brings to Bëor.

_____________________________________________________________

The library was one of Finduilas’s favorite rooms in Nargothrond, though she did not visit today for the books.  She brought soup and bread and tea arrayed on a fine tray with little flowers tucked in around the servings and a small stolen pastry hidden inside a leaf, a repayment of the many stolen morsels that had been smuggled to her upon a time.

She nudged the door open with her foot and came in without a sound, setting the tray on the low table and putting her hand gently on the sleeping man’s shoulder.

“Uncle Bëor?”

Bëor smiled at the melodic voice which called him back from his doze.  Without yet opening his eyes he said, “My little songbird.  Is it morning already?”

“It is just past noon,” Finduilas said, helping him to sit upright.  “You have been asleep all morning.”

“Difficult to tell without the sun,” he said, having never quite managed to adjust to the passage of time beneath the hills.

“We will go and see her after lunch, if you’d like,” Finduilas said.  “She is bright today, and the trees reach for her.”

“Perhaps,” Bëor said, though the long walk was harder on him now.  “But surely you have better things to do than wait on an old man.”

She only smiled at his protests and brought the bowl of soup to his hands.  “You’ll like it today,” she said.  “The venison has been chopped so fine you need not even chew it.”

That was harder now as well, as were a great many little things that had somehow slowly slipped away over the years.  He could no longer read the flowing, miniscule script in the books, or carve the intricate figures he once made for her to play with.  He could not race through the bracken with his lord as if two deer in spring.  He could no longer quite recall the faces of his family, so long left behind.

As his mind drifted away and he made no attempt to eat, Finduilas put a hand on his shoulder again.  “Uncle?”

“Hm?  Oh.”  He looked at the soup, steam wafting from the surface, bringing the rich scent of meat and spices to his nose.  He took a tentative bite, a little hot yet, but it helped to warm him as he ate.  The cold was another constant companion.

“Shall I read to you?” Finduilas offered.  “I found a book of poetry that might suffice to pass a little time.”

“That would be lovely,” he said, remembering how he once held her on his lap and read to her the great histories of the Eldar, more for his own education then.  She had barely grown from the child she had been in his eyes, only just reaching the edge of adulthood.

Her voice was strong now, turning the words into an exciting panoply of images and sounds, forming visions in his mind that he was not altogether certain whether they came from himself or from her.  She read poems of waves and the stars and the crisp sea air from atop a mast; of trees and moths and little growing things in the twilight of the forest; of life and beauty and enduring hope; but her voice faltered when the spoon fell from his fingers.

“Oh, Uncle, let me help,” she said as he reached for it.  She took a cloth and began wiping the spilled soup from his trousers.

“Do you remember when I spilt my beets all down the front of my brand new golden dress?” she said, and while he did not recall that particular story she did not wait for an answer, continuing on as she wiped the spoon clean.

“I had promised my mother so faithfully I would not get it dirty, and there I was with red stains right down the front of it.”  She sat beside him and took a spoonful of the soup, bringing it to his mouth.

“You begged the linen kerchiefs off the ladies next to me and tied them together at the corner, settling it over my head and tucking it into my belt like a surcoat.  Oh, the dress was a loss, but at least I did not have to wear the shame for all to see that evening.”

He smiled, the faint memory of it starting to creep back in.  It took the sting out of being fed like a child, and he was grateful for the distraction.

When the soup was finished, she snuck him the pastry, and they both laughed at the reversal.  Oh, how he had indulged her, and now she, him.  They spoke a while longer about those days, how she would delight in his beard and the stories of his people, how she marveled at the lines that each year etched deeper into his dark skin even as he marveled at how she grew (and yet so much slower than his own kind.)

It was not long before he had wearied again, closing his eyes and leaning back into the pillows.

“Perhaps a little later we might go feel the sun,” he said, voice already heavy with sleep.

She kissed his head tenderly and promised.

[shadowsong26fic]

Papa and J---- Update!

Author: shadowsong26

Rating: PG/PG-13

Fandom: Les Misérables

Characters: Technically all on-page characters are OCs; Valjean, Cosette, Marius, and Javert are discussed as historical personalities. Backstory Cosette/Marius and heavily implied Valjean/Javert.

Warnings: Nothing specific, I don’t think?

Summary: Euphrasie Pontmercy–known in the art world as La Jardinière–isn’t exactly a household name. Still, the sheer length of her active career (her work was first displayed and sold in 1839, and she left one last work unfinished at her death in 1910) makes her interesting to people who actually study that century in art. But as far as the historical record is concerned, Jardinière seems to have sprung semi-fully-formed from the streets of Paris somewhere in the mid-to-late 1820s. Other than the fact that she was educated in a convent, essentially nothing is known about her parents or her childhood.

Until now.

Or:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a PhD student with no thesis topic must be in want of an undiscovered painting to go absolutely feral over.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.

Notes: Here we are with Chapter 3! Where Ari talks to Phil’s mom and gets a little more background/family lore. Which is...fairly accurate, even after nearly two centuries of generational telephone, lol. also I am. Tempted. to find someone to commission to actually make a version of the painting are any of y’all who might be artists interested/does anyone have any recommendations of artists who are open for commissions who do that kind of style

Updates will be posted here on Thursdays and crossposted to AO3 on Fridays.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Wednesday afternoon, as soon as the last class I was TAing let out, I headed back to Phil’s house. I’d spoken with his mother on the phone the night before, and she’d agreed to meet me at four. Foot in the door, at least. First hurdle cleared.

Traffic was shit, because of course it was on a day I needed things to run smoothly, and I got there about five minutes late.

The woman who answered the door when I knocked was a little bit shorter than me, with the same bright blue eyes Phil had. Too old to be his sister, so this must be his mom.

“Hi, I’m sorry I’m late,” I said. “I’m Ari Wright, we talked on the phone?”

“Of course,” she said, and smiled, stepping aside. “Please, come in, ah…?”

“Ari is fine,” I said, and followed her inside. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me, Mrs. Riley.”

“Oh, please, Louise is fine,” she said. “Would you like some water, tea?”

“Uh, water would be great, thanks,” I said.

She left me in the living room, excusing herself to go into the kitchen to get it, which gave me another minute alone with the painting.

Which was just as ordinary-extraordinary as it had been on Friday night. Exactly like I remembered it.

To be fair, I’d spent probably way too many hours the past few days studying my shitty phone pictures of it, so.

“I have to admit,” Mrs. Riley--Louise--said, rejoining me and setting a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses on the table. “I was a little surprised when Phil told me one of his friends was interested in Mémé Cosette’s painting.”

I stepped away from the wall and sat in one of the armchairs--not the couch; that would have been Awkward at least in the back of my brain. “I saw it when I was over here with Phil the other day, and…well, it jumped out at me.”

“Right,” she said. “So, what exactly are you looking for here?”

“Well, I was hoping to get your permission to do a more thorough study of the piece,” I said, then hesitated. “…if I can start by asking you some questions? About the painting and its history, whatever you know about it. And recording, if that’s okay. Easier than taking notes.”

“That’s fine,” she said, picking up her glass and settling into one of the other chairs.

I took a sip from the other glass, then set my phone to record audio and put it on the middle of the coffee table. “I suppose I should start with...well, I’m not sure how much you’re aware of your ancestor’s career--Phil wasn’t, at least?”

Louise smiled. “I know who Mémé Cosette was, or at least what I was told about her,” she said. “Euphrasie Pontmercy, also known as La Jardinère. I always liked listening to the family stories.”

“What can you tell me about the painting?” I asked. Obviously, if I went forward, anything she told me would have to be backed up by other sources. Anecdotal family history had a funny way of getting tweaked or embellished over the years, especially when the relative in question was someone even moderately famous. “Phil told me it’s always been in your family, and she’s your…”

“Great-great…great grandmother, I think,” Louise said, taking a moment to count. “My grandmother’s grandfather was her son René.”

The youngest of the five children. Right.

“I’m not sure how exactly the painting ended up in my great-grandmother’s possession, as opposed to any of the other children or grandchildren, but I know she was the one who brought it with her to the States, when she emigrated from France in 1912.” She smiled wryly. “According to the story, they almost boarded Titanic at Cherbourg, but one or more of the children had the measles. Or possibly diphtheria, I’ve heard different things at different times.”

“Not something you’d normally think of as lucky,” I said.

“No, not really,” she agreed. “Like I said, that’s the story, and who knows if it’s true. But I do know that the painting came to my great-grandmother somehow, and she passed it on to my grandmother Marie-Celeste, who left it to me. Since I was the only one of her grandchildren who liked to listen to her stories.”

“Had she actually met La Jardinière?” I asked. It was possible--if they’d been planning to sail in 1912, and Jardinière had died in 1910…

“A few times,” Louise confirmed. “She was about six when Mémé Cosette died, but she remembered visiting her.”

Well, that was a pretty damn solid foundation for the painting’s provenance. Again, I’d have to back up the authentication in other ways, but this was looking more and more promising.

“What about the subjects?” I asked. “The men in the painting, I mean. It’s labeled as Papa and J. Do you know anything about them?”

“Only the stories,” she said. “She was adopted, did you know that? Mémé Cosette, I mean.”

That was interesting; adoption wasn’t a very common practice in the early nineteenth century, at least not in the United States or Great Britain, and most of what did happen was very much behind closed doors. I made a mental note to add the history of French adoption law to my research list. It was unlikely, but maybe I’d get lucky, and there would be some kind of record of the adoption somewhere. If I could track down exactly when and where it happened.

“No, I didn’t,” I said. “Unless there’s something in an obscure French biography I haven’t been able to find and muddle through, I don’t think anyone knows much of anything about her childhood. Which is one of the reasons this painting is so interesting. When did this happen? And where?”

“I don’t know where, exactly,” Louise said. “Some little town in Normandy, maybe? Somewhere in the north of France, I’m pretty sure. Again, according to the family stories. It was when she was around seven or eight, I think? Before that…I don’t know. My grandmother didn’t know, or if she did she never told me, but I think she had the impression that it wasn’t a very good situation. And then Mémé Cosette was adopted, so that’s where Papa came into her life.”

“Do you have a name for him?” I asked. “Her marriage license listed her maiden name as Fauchelevent, but was that his name, or from her birth parents…?”

“That I don’t know,” she said. “All I know is that she was adopted, and that she named her eldest son for her adoptive father.”

And Jardinière’s eldest son’s name was Jean, which was. Extremely, unhelpfully common.

“Do you know which of the men he is?” I asked. “In the painting, I mean.”

Louise got up and went to the wall to examine it. “I…think the bearded man. My grandmother obviously never met him, and I think her grandfather--René, I mean--was very young when he died, but that matches up with what she heard from her aunts and uncles, as she passed it on to me. He was a very private person, and supposedly very strong. One story--and I can’t say I believe it’s true--involved him physically carrying another man to safety for something like twelve hours after some kind of disaster.”

Which…well, Louise was right, that story didn’t seem all that credible. But the more general description, and the kind of man who would give rise to that sort of story, did match up with the impression the painting gave.

I stood up as well, leaving my glass on the coffee table, and joined her at the painting. “What about the other man? The mysterious J?”

“We’re back to a game of generational telephone on this one,” Louise said. “I know even less about him. But my grandmother said he was a close friend of the family, according to what Mémé Cosette told her when she asked once. That he and her--that is, Mémé Cosette’s--father lived together for the last decade or so of his life. Not sure which him she meant.”

…well, all right then.

My eye was, once again, drawn to J’s hand, resting on the back of the chair. And they lived together, maybe, for a decade or so.

Of course, that could mean a lot of different things. And, you know, it’s easy to see what you want to see, especially when there’s so little information to go on. Whatever their relationship was, though, I’d been right in my initial impression of intimacy. Whatever kind of intimacy it was.

“Right,” I said. “I think that’s a good baseline, at least for now, but I might have more questions later. And I…not that I’m saying I doubt your version of the story, or anything, but…”

“But if you want to actually research the painting, you need more proof than half-remembered family stories after two centuries of generational telephone,” Louise said, and smiled again. “It’s fine, I know how research works. I remember when my husband got his Master’s degree.”

“Yeah, exactly,” I said. “Thank you, for your understanding. Um, so, with your permission, I would like to borrow the painting for a few weeks. To authenticate it, and do a more detailed analysis of the technique and construction and so on, see what else I can learn from the actual physical piece.”

“Right,” Louise said, turning back to the painting again, thinking. “Just to study it, you said? And, obviously, write about your findings if you find anything worth writing about. But you won’t put the painting on display in a museum or anything?”

I shook my head. “Not unless you agree to it, no. I’d take photographs, to include with the paper, but the painting itself won’t go on display unless you allow it.”

“And when you cite it…I don’t know how it works, exactly, but you wouldn’t have to specifically name me?”

“No, I can just list it as being in a private collection.”

“Right,” she said. “…I have to admit, now that you’re here asking questions…I didn’t really think about it before. How many gaps there are in the story.”

“It’s funny how memory works sometimes,” I said. “Especially…well, like you said, when generational telephone gets involved.”

And it was…a weirdly appropriate question in context, since that was something Jardinière had come back to time and time again in her work. This idea of memory, and how it lines up with reality. How it changes. Those repeat paintings she’d made of the same locations in Paris over the years. The series of paintings of her own memories.

And, of course, her last painting. Souvenir--inachevé. Memory--unfinished.

Definitely need to get to Chicago to see it in person.

“True,” she said. “All right. Under those conditions--that the painting won’t be displayed, and that you’ll leave my name out of it, you have my permission to borrow it and do whatever tests or study you need for your research.”

“Thank you!” I said. “Thank you so much, this…I really appreciate all your help, Mrs.--Louise.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “And I hope you’ll share whatever you find with me, before publishing?”

“Of course,” I said. “It’s your painting, your family history.”

“Good,” she said, and smiled again. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Me, too,” I said. “Me, too.”

[sugar-stories]

Strange Bedfellows Chapter 4 Preview: It’s gonna be another loooong chapter that takes me a month and a half to write, I can feel it in my bones

Anyway, here’s Kuno losing a battle with a seven year old girl 🥳

Tatewaki Kuno stared down his opponent with an icy glare that would unnerve even the most seasoned warriors. His hands gripped the hilt of his bokken as steadily and lightly as his lungs breathed air, ready to throw himself into a fight at any moment. He stood with his back to the front door, balancing on the balls of his feet.

“You shall not pass!” he said.

His opponent matched his intense gaze with a steely resolve of her own.

“Father. I do not wish to harm you, but if you refuse to step aside, then I will be forced to strike you down where you stand,” she said.

Kuno’s opponent—his seven-year-old daughter—stepped back into a fighting stance, holding her toy sword. She was the spitting image of Sasaki Kojiro if he’d been a three-foot-tall girl with a cute purple blouse and a backpack full of chocolate cookies.

“It is a thousand years too early for you to challenge me!” Kuno replied. “Now go to your room!”

Each combatant waited for the other to move. Sasuke stood with his hands clasped together, not sure who to help. Next to him, Nabiki Tendo looked at her watch.

“One of you needs to get out of the way. I’m late for work,” she said.

Kuno looked at her. His eyes were wild and desperate. His mouth trembled for a moment before words exploded out of it.

“Tell her to turn around and stop this nonsense, then! No child of mine is going to… to—”

Kuno breathed in so hard, the edges of his two nostrils rippled around like a pair of swimming sea slugs. He spoke his next words as though he were uttering a curse.

“—to public school!” he said.

He pointed at Tomiji. Tomiji pointed back at him, swiveling her head towards Nabiki.

“He is wrong. I am going to public school, for I wish to join my good friends and be educated amongst the peasant folk,” Tomiji said.

Kuno twisted his gaze towards the seven-year-old samurai and thundered back at her. “That is preposterous ! There is no teacher on Earth who could educate you better than I have!”

Nabiki pondered his words for a moment. There was a brief pause.

“Tomiji, what’s seven plus four…?” Nabiki asked.

“Seventy-four,” said Tomiji.

“And the capital of Japan is…?”

“Edo.”

“And this animal is called…?”

Nabiki held up a postcard with a photo of a rhinoceros on it.

“A puppy,” Tomiji said.

Nabiki set aside the postcard and folded her arms deliberately across the front of her maroon blazer. She looked levelly at her husband without saying anything. She didn’t need to.

“What?!” Kuno said to her, suddenly defensive. “We’re getting to animals—right after she finishes memorizing the Heike Monogatari!”

“Mmm. I’m sure you are. But let’s just handle this democratically, shall we?” Nabiki said. “All in favor of Tomiji going to public school from now on, raise your hand.”

Tomiji raised her hand. Nabiki did, too. So did Sasuke.

“You don’t get to vote!” Kuno said to Sasuke, scandalized.

Sasuke slowly put his hand down.

“…And all in favor of Tomiji staying in homeschool?” Nabiki said.

Kuno was the only one who raised his hand. He picked up Sasuke and shook him.

“Why aren’t you voting, man?!” he asked him.

It didn’t matter whether Sasuke voted or not, because while Kuno was busy reprimanding him, Tomiji opened the front door and started skipping down the street towards Furinkan Elementary School.

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad (Issue #10: Devils in Plain Sight)

The weirdest part of the next day was how little anyone reacted to her. Nicole had expected confusion, outrage, misunderstandings. But there was nothing. She woke up in her new apartment, in an undecorated room with only a bed and a nightstand. Amy had already left for the day- she left a note on the fridge explaining she had an early morning class but to text her when she was done for the day so she could help her move. She’d also left a half a pitcher of coffee and a plate of sausage and hash browns and an orange for her with a similar note giving permission to eat it. Nicole had to admit, Amy was certainly putting her best foot forward on this.

Nicole ate her breakfast and did homework for tomorrow’s class, then hopped in the shower. She nicked herself a few times shaving her legs and armpits, but part of her was glad she was getting the reps in. She put on a hot pink top and a knee-length white skirt and did her makeup as best she could, and she went out to face the day. 

She arrived in class, fully expecting a full interrogation from her professor. She walked up to the good Dr. Wolfman, only for him to say, “Ah, hello Nicole. That’s your preferred name now, yes? I received notice from the school about your transition- I hope you’ll still find my class welcoming.”

“Um… Yeah,” Nicole said. Father Gonzalez must’ve gone ahead and appraised the school administrators about her status- he had said they were already in the know. That was nice of him. “I hope so too!”

“Very well then. If you’ll take your seat then.”

“Okay!”

After that, she took her seat, and nobody batted an eyelash. Well, a few of them did- mostly guys, mostly checking her out. It was a strange thing to have happen to her, mostly because if anyone was checking her out beforehand she’d never noticed. But she turned it around and started checking the guys out herself, glancing appreciatively at each boy who gave her a leering look. Mom had told her she was a pretty girl now and would have to beat the boys back with a stick- Nicole hoped that wasn’t literal, and a part of her wasn’t entirely comfortable with the arrangement, but still, it was nice to know that people thought she was attractive. And besides, some of these lads had very nice faces and bodies. Fair is fair, Nicole thought with a wry grin as she made eye contact with a very, very muscular young man she’d caught staring at her moments prior. Gonna have to be restrained going forward, though. I’m here to get an education, not an MRS degree. 

After class, everybody simply cleared out. Nobody came up to interrogate her, nobody was demanding to know who she was and why she was in Nick Nygaard’s seat or why they looked like they could be brother and sister. Nobody cared. It was shocking how self-absorbed most people were in that respect, but hey, she’d take it if it got her through the day unobstructed. 

After that, she texted Amy, who responded she had another class but would meet her at the apartment in an hour. Nicole simply went home and did more homework, getting a decent chunk of it done while listening to jazz-hop. Finally, Amy opened the door, clad in a ruffled black blouse and red slacks. The slacks hugged her hips in an inviting manner, while her blouse offered a slight peak at her cleavage. And… Was she wearing a push-up bra? 

Bad! Nicole thought, giving herself a mental slap. Bad brain! Bad! She’s your roommate. And your teammate. And she’s straight. And frankly, you’re still not sure if you’ve forgiven her all the way. Stop checking her out. 

Amy stepped forward, and there was a… Bounce in her chest area. STOP IT, BRAIN!

“Hey roomie! How was it?” Amy said with a stupid, gorgeous, stupid smile.

“It was… Fine,” Nicole stammered, rubbing her earlobe furiously.  

“Just fine?”

“I guess it was just… Wicked ordinary,” Nicole said. Killing it, Nygaard.

“Isn’t that good, though?”

“... Yeah, honestly it is. I, uh, I mean, every day probably won’t be like this-”

“Definitely won’t.”

“But I guess today was just today.”

“Exactly,” Amy said, taking off her black spike heels and reaching into the fridge. “Cherry?”

“Excuse me?!” Nicole blushed.

“Cherry soda?” Amy said, holding up two glass bottles of cola. 

“Yes! Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.”

“Cool. Oh, uh, the others weren’t able to help out with moving your stuff today, but my boyfriend Aidan said he was up to it. And he’s got a pickup truck!”

And she’s got a boyfriend- I mean, of course she does. Look at her, she’s beautiful- GOSH DARNIT BRAIN STOP IT ALREADY! “Perfect.”

“He’s gonna meet us here soon- I’m gonna go get changed while we wait,” Amy said, taking a long sip from the glass bottle’s mouth- BLUE BLAZES, WHY?!

Nicole changed clothes into a pair of running shorts and a sports’ bra and tank top, and when she came out, she found Amy on the couch wearing jean shorts and a Kacey Musgraves t-shirt. A knocking struck their door, and Amy opened it to reveal… the guy from Nicole’s Tuesday class with Debbi? That Aidan? Huh, what a coincidence. Also, good for Amy, he is VERY pretty… Ugh, this is gonna be a thing now, isn’t it? Am I gonna need a private cell in horny jail?

“Hey, hot stuff,” Aidan said, leaning down and kissing Amy on the mouth. 

Amy giggled. “Mmmm hey you! Thanks so much for doing this!”

“No problem. Is this your roommate?”

“Yup. This is-”

“Nicole Nygaard. We’ve met,” Nicole said, standing up from the couch. 

“Oh boy,” Amy muttered.

“We have? Wait, Nygaard- are you related to Nick?” Aidan asked. 

“I am Nick.”

“Oh God, here we go,” Amy said. 

“No, you’re not,” Aidan said. 

“No, seriously, I am,” Nicole said. 

“But Nick is a guy.”

“No, I just thought I was a guy,” Nicole said. “Turns out I’m actually a trans girl.”

“Just jumping right into it,” Amy said. 

Nicole rolled her eyes. If Amy was gonna do this consistently when Nicole told people, Nicole was gonna feel less bad about holding back forgiveness. 

“But… You… You look completely different,” Aidan said. “And the last time I saw you was a week ago!”

“Yeah, I, uh, took the week off, did some soul-searching. Got a makeover.”

“Did you also lose several inches of height?” 

“How would you know? I mean, we sat next to each other, sure, but how often did you see me standing up?” Nicole said, hands on her hips. 

“Hm. I suppose,” Aidan said, stroking the nonexistent beard on his chin. “But what about your voice?”

“I’m… A… Amateur voice actor, and I’ve gotten very good at pitching up,” Nicole said. 

“Hm. Okay! Fair enough,” Aidan said with a broad, white-toothed smile. 

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. 

I can’t believe he bought that. 

“So, let’s hop to it!” the young man said. 

They piled into Aidan’s pickup, an old and somewhat worn down white two-seater. Amy was the smallest of them, so she sat stuffed between Aidan and Nicole, pressing up against both of their respective shoulders. This is so uncomfortable.

“So, how did you know you were trans?” Aidan asked. 

Aaaannddd now it’s more uncomfortable. “Umm,” Nicole said, “Well, I always felt off about my body, and after a lot of soul searching and a few very telling dreams, I decided it was time to make a change.”

“Oh, cool. Are you gonna get the operation? You know, between your legs?”

Nicole balked. 

“A-Aidan,” Amy said, red as a tomato, “Y-you can’t just ask that.”

“Oh, well, my mistake. I mean, I guess I just figured ‘cause you already got those milkers added to your chest-”

Amy’s jaw dropped. 

“These are… This is a padded bra?” Nicole said desperately.

“Hm. Oh, well, okay!” he said cheerfully. “Very realistic one then- they look exactly like real boobs! Even the cleavage-”

“Aidan, you need to stop,” Amy said. “I get having questions, but that’s a bit much.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just curious. You know, I’ve never met a trans person before this, so I’d like to find out as much as I can,” he said. 

This boy is very lucky he’s pretty, ‘cause Amy clearly didn’t pick him for his brains. “Yeah, well, would you ask these questions of a cis girl?” Nicole asked. 

“What’s a cis girl?” both Aidan and Amy asked innocently. 

Nicole sighed. She explained, and by the end she had a headache. Look, just put the information out there. They need to know so they don’t mess up again in the future. Even if these questions are incredibly invasive. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just say ‘biological girl,’” Aidan said. 

“Actually, I’ve kinda wondered about that too,” Amy said, raking a hand through her hair. 

Nicole side-eyed her, and Amy got flustered again. Aidan, however, went on blissfully ignorant. Nicole sighed again. This is gonna be a long afternoon. 

They arrived at Ditko Hall, which was in the midst of another rager. Techno music and strobe lights blared out of it, artificial smoke billowing out of the doors and windows into the cool, sunny Autumn afternoon. By some miracle, Nicole’s identity card still got them in, and they marched up with cardboard boxes in hand. They navigated a massive sea of partiers- seriously, do any of these guys ever go to class?- and made it to Nicole’s dorm, where Curtis sat on the floor shirtless and smoking from a bong. A massive cloud of weed smoke floated towards them, and Nicole did her best to hold her breath. It worked for about ten seconds- she needed to work on her lung capacity. 

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on here?” the hockey player said. Had his abs always looked that good? Dang, those were some good abs. Stay focused, brain. Just get your stuff and get out; don’t get distracted by the man-candy. 

“Oh, we’re just moving my old stuff out of here,” Nicole said. 

“... Wait, Nick?”

“It’s Nicole, now.”

“Oh. Righteous! Good for you, girl! ‘She/her’ for your pronouns?” Curtis said, standing up and offering her a handshake. 

Nicole shrugged and shook his hand. “Yeah, actually. Thanks for asking.”

“So that’s an okay thing to ask?” Amy said. 

“Yeah, it’s common courtesy,” Curtis said. “Honestly, I think everyone should be specific with their pronouns, to prevent confusion and faux pas’.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” Amy asked. 

“What?”

“I just didn’t expect-”

“One of my moms is trans,” Curtis clarified. “She hatched when I was twelve.”

“Wait, you have two moms?” Nicole asked. “You never mentioned that before.”

“We didn’t talk much before,” Curtis said. “Honestly, I just figured you weren’t much of a partier, so you tried not to hang around too much. Which is fair. Still, good for you. Glad you’re living your best life. And, if I may, you look quite lovely as your true self.”

Perhaps it was the weed smoke, perhaps it was the fact that he was shirtless and buff, or perhaps it was the simple fact that someone else had done all the work for her for once, but a flustered giggle escaped Nicole’s mouth. “Thank you,” she said, running a hand through her hair and biting her lip. 

“I know you guys are moving stuff around, but you wanna hang out a bit?” Curtis said. “I’ve got plenty of weed if you wanna do some bong hits.”

Amy started, “I don’t know if we have time-”

“Sweet!” Aidan said, running over and grabbing the bong. He’d lit it and taken a hit before Amy or Nicole could say anything. 

“We’ll stay if you agree to help us move out in a few hours,” Nicole said. 

“Sounds good to me!” 

“Oh boy,” Amy said. 

Nicole had never smoked weed before. The most she’d ever gotten was a contact high. The actual experience was quite a bit different. Curtis walked her through how to light and use the bong, holding her hand while she took her hit, and the smoke drifted from her mouth to her lungs to her brain. Suddenly, everything was light and airy, all the stresses of her life hundreds of miles away. Now it was just her in a room with some bad music and two hot guys and a very, very hot girl next to her. And life was good. 

Amy took a hit as well, and started laughing profusely within seconds. She sat in between Nicole and Aidan, resting against Aidan’s shoulder and propping her feet on Nicole’s lap. 

“You ever notice how weird the inside of your own mouth feels with your tongue,” Amy said. “It’s like… A damp cavern.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Nicole said, running her tongue along the roof of her mouth.

“It’s just like a-”

Nicole put a finger on Amy’s lips. “Gonna need you to stop there.”

Amy pouted. “Why?”

“Because it’s a little bit… A little…”

Amy sat up and leaned forward. “A little what?”

“A little inappropriate.”

Amy got in very, very close, her shoulders slumping and her eyes crestfallen. “Oh. Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry. I really need to work on boundaries.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Nicole said, petting her hair, hoping it would calm her down. 

All four of them took another hit, drifting closer and closer to a rapturous clarity. This was evidently a mistake, as it prompted Amy to lean even closer to Nicole and cup her face in her hands. Nicole blushed redder than the communist menace. 

“You’re so pretty,” Amy said.

Nicole gulped. 

“It’s not fair that you’re so pretty. You’re a boy- you’re not allowed to be this pretty.” 

Nicole’s eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched as a sensation akin to raw sewage flowing through her veins ran through her.

“Hey, not cool Amy,” Curtis said. “She’s a girl. She was always a girl.”

Amy stammered, “Oh yeah. Right, right. I’m sorry, I just… I just… I don’t know. I feel like anything I say will just sound like an excuse.”

“I mean it probably will,” Nicole said flatly, still glaring. 

And then Amy started crying, burying her head in Nicole’s shoulder. 

Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was the invasive questions she’d already gotten, or maybe it was just the fact that it was Amy, but a thin rod of patience in Nicole’s mind snapped. “Oh for- could you not do that?”

“Do what?” Amy sobbed.

“That! It’s really frustrating, because you say you feel bad but it feels like you need your guilty conscience soothed more than you care what I think, because you keep saying transphobic stuff and then getting all sad girl hours on me and making it about you! Stop it! Just stop it already, Amy! You’re making it hard to forgive you.”

Amy sniffed, still crying. “But you said… You said you already forgave me.”

“I lied!” Nicole spat. 

Amy pulled herself off of Nicole. “Oh. Okay. That’s fair. I wouldn’t forgive me either.”

Shame flushed through Nicole. She’d needed to get that off her chest, but this probably hadn’t been the right way to do it. “I… I…”

Anxiety impaled Nicole. She had no idea how to do this- people never apologized to her this much before, and people weren’t as openly hostile either. 

Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was week-old resentment, or maybe she was still reeling from her conversation with Zack. But she jumped up away from them and ran out of the room, into the pounding strobe lights of the party, through the maze of debauchery that was Ditko Hall, and out into the mid-afternoon sun. The world suddenly seemed very loud and very ugly, and she was just as ugly as the rest of it. She was supposed to forgive people when they apologized, that was what you did, that was what Jesus wanted, but it was just so gosh darned difficult, especially when people didn’t seem able to forgive themselves and especially when they expected her to provide all the absolution. She leaned against the brick wall of the building and slumped down, holding her head in her hands. 

“Hey,” Amy said, walking out of the building and towards Nicole as if the ground were a thin sheet of glass. “Are you okay?”

“No. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

Nicole breathed in deep, took her head out of her palms, and looked up at the sky. Wind pushed aside dark and heavy storm clouds, revealing clear blue. “You’re trying. I can tell. But you’re almost trying too hard? But when I say that I feel like a big jerk- like, how can you be trying too hard to be accepting? But I keep… I keep thinking about what you said before and what Zack said to me and all those questions Aidan was asking me and I just keep realizing how this isn’t gonna go away, how this is my life now, and if I want to be a girl then people are gonna keep interrogating me on it and I have to deal with it but at the same time it just sounds exhausting and I… I… I don’t know what to do.”

Amy licked her lips, then sat down next to Nicole. “Look, I… You were kind of right. Debbi can tell you all about this, but I have a habit of making other people’s problems about me. It’s… It’s not great. When I was kid, and she and my younger brothers were the only black kids in our school, it was up to me to protect them from the bullies. But I made that about me and how much I was struggling with that, not about the fact that they were dealing with racist assholes when that was the important part. And I… I probably need therapy, because everyone in my life has told me at some point what a narcissist I am.”

“I didn’t call you a-”

Amy raised an eyebrow. 

“... In so many words,” Nicole said. 

“Look, what I’m trying to say is… You don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to. It’s just… It’s just difficult. I didn’t have to deal with anything like this before. I was a straight white boy, or at least I thought I was. The most I had to deal with was the rich kids at my school making fun of me and my siblings because we could only go there because my mom worked there, and honestly, most of them left me alone once I made the basketball team. So I’m getting used to the fact that I now have to think about how to deal with bigots. And I don’t know what the rules are.”

“Are there rules?” Amy asked. 

“I… I dunno. I don’t know anything.”

Amy smiled. “Isn’t that the first step towards enlightenment? Admitting all the things you don’t know?”

Nicole smiled back. “Doesn’t that mean you should do that too?”

Amy giggled. “Okay, fine. I admit that I don’t know shit either. Happy?”

“It’s a start,” Nicole said. “Like I said, I want to… I want to forgive you. But at the same time, maybe you need to forgive yourself?”

“Doesn’t that mean you should do that too?” Amy said back. 

“For what?”

“I think… Maybe you feel like you let yourself down, and that’s what’s getting to you. Like you went through your whole life thinking you were one thing and when it turned out you weren’t it felt like you were betraying yourself.”

“That… That… Huh,” Nicole said. Her shield hummed next to her heart. “Yeah, especially at first, I did feel like that. You’re pretty smart sometimes.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Much like you telling me I’m pretty was a compliment?”

Amy snapped her fingers. “Exactly.”

“Also, I feel like I should tell you this: you’re not a bad person. You said some bad things, but you seem to wanna make it up to me and to yourself. And I do appreciate that you’re trying. And that you’re letting me live with you. That’s… Honestly, that’s incredibly cool of you. And… I wanna be your friend. ‘Cause hanging out with you is fun.”

“Thank you. I want to be your friend, too.”

“That said, I’ve gotta say it: your boyfriend’s an idiot.”

“Pfffttt, yeah, he is,” Amy said, scratching the back of her head. “He’s sweet though.”

“And very pretty.”

“VERY pretty.”

“Like me?” Nicole asked. 

“Yes,” Amy said, booping her nose. 

Nicole smiled. “Well this has been an interesting day. How long have we been here anyway?”

Amy looked at her phone. “Twenty-three minutes.”

“Blue Blazes. It felt like hours.”

“That’s the weed talking, sweetie.”

“Ah, yes,” Nicole said. “Of course. What time are we meeting everyone at the church?”

“Not until tonight.”

“Oh, good. The high should fade before then, right?”

“I don't know, probably. How much weed do you smoke?”

“Uh… I don’t.”

“Ah. Well, if you want to sober up quick, just transform- trust me, it sets you back to baseline instantly. I’ve used it to avoid being drunk around my parents at least twice.”

“At least twice?”

“There’ve been other times where it may have happened. I’m not sure. You know, because I was drunk.”

“Thhaatttt makes sense.”

“Wanna go back inside?” Amy asked. “Get this move on the move?”

“Sounds good.”

They went back inside and coaxed Aidan and Curtis away from the bong. They loaded everything in Nicole’s old room into four full-sized cardboard boxes and carted it off.

***

Cass arrived twenty minutes early for their meeting at Saint Joseph’s, the screams of the damned echoing in her mind and soul. A Prophet. She was a Prophet. And she’d had a vision of… Perhaps not the end, but of something, something that involved the five of them. And possibly some others as well. It had been all she was able to think about that whole day, and was the only thing on her mind as she approached the church. 

She was just in time to see Father Gonzalez walk out of an exterior entrance to the church basement, his hands covered in ashes. 

She watched him amble into the church’s main entrance, and once he was inside, she went up to the basement. Locked. She gave it a knock. On the other side, a bestial howl ruptured the evening silence. Cass’ eyes went wide as shock sparked through her. What the hell… 

She held up a hand and reached into the doorknob with her telekinesis, invisible digits thin as threads weaving through the tumblers and looking for the right combination of-

“Whatcha doin’?” a light, airy voice spoke from behind her. 

“Gah!” Cass jumped. She spun around, beginning to channel God’s power through her arms and into her heart, but found it was just Nicole and Amy. Amy wore a white turtleneck sweater and blue jeans and carried her brown shoulder bag, while Nicole wore light blue maxi dress and a white shawl and a golden cross necklace. And… Amy’s usual shade of dark red lipstick by the look of it. It looked good on her. Cass made a mental note to ask Amy if she could borrow some before collecting her thoughts. 

“Woah there,” Amy said. “Calm down, kiddo. It’s just us.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Cass said, placing a hand over her heart. 

“Is everything okay?” Nicole asked. 

Cass gestured for them to bend down and listen closely. As the setting sun draped them all in red and gold, Cass whispered, “I saw Father Gonzalez walking out of here with ash on his hands, and when I knocked on this door I heard someone screaming on the other side.”

“What the heck?” Nicole said. 

“That’s what I thought. I was gonna use my telekinesis to pick the lock.”

“Why not just ask him what’s going on?”

“Because there are traitors in our midst! What if he’s one of them? What if he’s possessed?”

“Well there are ways to check that, and we have a relatively simple workaround for it,” Amy pointed out. 

“And I recognize that, but I’d really like to know what’s on the other side of this door.”

“Okay,” Amy said. “Pick that lock.”

“I dunno about this,” Nicole said. 

“Oh, don’t be such a goody-two-shoes.”

“Why does everyone keep calling me that?” Nicole whined. 

“Gee, I wonder,” Amy said. 

Cass went back to work on the lock. The first tumbler clicked, then the second-

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on here?” a new voice said behind them.

Cass jumped and yelped, though not as loud as Nicole and Amy both did. They all spun around, fists glowing, only to find Heather and Debbi standing there with steaming Styrofoam cups of what smelled like herbal tea in hand. Heather was dressed like she’d just come from class, clad in a form-fitting pantsuit with no jacket and a top with no sleeves- she did like to show off the guns- while Debbi wore what appeared to be Heather’s black and white high school basketball jersey as a baggy dress over dark purple leggings. Cass did a brief double-take as she registered that; those two were so confusing. 

“God, don’t do that!” Amy snapped. 

“Didn’t we just do that?” Nicole asked. 

“Shut it,” Amy rolled her eyes. At least these two were predictable. 

Cass explained the situation again in a hushed tone. They all agreed that they should really see what was on the other side of the door. Cass managed to get all the way through the next tumbler before yet another female voice broke her concentration and made her and her friends all jump. 

Cass didn’t recognize the other person this time. She looked like she was the same age as Amy, with ringlets of chestnut brown hair and blue eyes and a healthy bronze tan. She wore a yellow sundress in spite of the cooling weather, no sleeves and a short skirt and an ample view of her cleavage. Her makeup was immaculate, her eyebrows thin and even, her teeth straight and white and perfect. “Hiiiiii!”

“Oh, uh, hello,” Heather said, clearly trying hard not to get distracted by the view. 

Cass hoped this would be one of those times she could just ignore the stranger until they went away. It only worked about half the time, but still, the odds weren’t necessarily bad. 

Neither Debbi nor Nicole seemed to recognize this girl either. 

Amy, however, winced with bitter recognition. “Winona.”

“Always a pleasure to see you, Ms. Donahue,” Winona said, with a smile that seemed too genuine to actually be genuine. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friends?”

Amy grinded her teeth. “These are my little sisters Debbi and Cass, and our friends Nicole and Heather. Now please leave.”

“Awwww, but I wanted to talk to you!” Winona said. “We haven’t gotten to hang out in so long!”

“Yeahhh, you ever think there might be a reason for that?”

“No. Why?” Winona said with a head tilt. Then, her eyes turned over towards Nicole. “But if you’re not willing to talk to me, maybe your friend here will. Hi. I’m Winona. Are you Nicole or Heather?”

Nicole got very flustered very quickly. She was apparently having a similar problem as Heather presently was of keeping her jaw off the floor and an ‘awooga’ sound from coming out of her mouth. “N-Nicole. Nicole Nygaard.”

“Oooh, alliterative- just like me! The full name’s Winona White.”

“That’s, uh, a, um, really pretty name.”

“Thanks. So’s yours- it’s a superhero name,” Winona giggled. “Hey, you’re not one of those magical girls by any chance, are you?”

Nicole squeaked. 

“Kidding!” Winona laughed. “That was strictly jocular. But if you are a magical girl, well, then I’d have to tell you you’re both beautiful and heroic- that’s a heckuva combination.”

Nicole started giggling uncontrollably- oh dear. Oh sweet summer child , Cass thought. She’s really not used to this yet.

“So, cutie, are you doing anything this Friday?” Winona asked, taking a step towards Nicole, running a hand through her perfect hair, flashing those perfect teeth.

“Uhhh,” Nicole said, her queer little brain clearly short-circuiting. 

Amy put a hand between Nicole and Winona. “Back. Off. White.”

“Awww, why you gotta be like that?” Winona said, pouting. “I was asking an honest question.”

“She’s not interested,” Amy growled. 

“Then why don’t you let her say that? A girl oughta be able to speak for herself. You know all about that, dontcha Ames?”

“Don’t call me that. Only my boyfriend gets to call me that,” Amy hissed. 

“Fair enough. But my point still stands.”

Amy grunted, then moved out of the way. Cass watched the scene play out with a hand under her chin, wondering for not the first time if the gays were okay. 

Nicole gulped. “I, uh… I’m actually busy this Friday- I have a date with a guy on the hockey team. I’m flattered though-”

“What about Saturday then?” Winona asked. “I’m just saying, girl’s gotta keep her options open.”

“Sure!” Nicole said, eyes wide with happiness. “Let’s swap digits!”

“Let’s!” 

They exchanged phones, and Winona gave a wave and walked away, dancing in the setting sun. Once she was gone, Amy turned her disapproving glare over to Nicole. Oh boy , Cass thought. I haven’t seen that since I told her I bombed my SATs. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Amy said. 

Cass went back to work on the lock, but kept listening. 

“You didn’t warn me, you just tried to block me,” Nicole said. “Why?”

“Because that girl is really entitled and possessive and GROSS.”

“Why, because she’s queer?” Nicole asked in monotone. 

Third tumbler. 

“No! Of course not!”

“Amy, you don’t have a great track record on these things- forgive me for not giving you the benefit of the doubt,” Nicole said. 

“Seconded,” Heather said. 

“Okay, fine,” Amy started, “Winona and I met during my freshman year. She got wicked, wicked into me very quickly and asked me out. I told her ‘no’ quite firmly, and she did not like that. She started harassing me, asking me out every time she saw me. It went on for an entire semester, and when I tried to tell people about it, they laughed at me. And then she managed to convince my boyfriend at the time that I was some kind of gay homophobe using him as a beard. He dumped me- on my birthday, no less. There? Are you happy?! That’s why you want nothing to do with this girl- she’s an entitled creep.”

Nicole and Heather both looked utterly mortified. 

Fourth tumbler. Cass’ wrist was starting to hurt, her fingers starting to throb. She’d been a high school sophomore when the whole Winona incident went down, recently transferred to a boarding school in Massachusetts, back when the team consisted only of herself and Amy. They’d always been willing to confide with each other on matters of the heart- Cass regarding her inability to keep a guy past the first date, or occasionally the first hookup, and Amy about guys her sister liked asking her out, and about the Winona incident. It had severely messed her up, mostly because she’d really liked the boy in question when Winona went about torpedoing the relationship. It had hurt enough that Amy had struggled to even mention the whole affair for years. But apparently, Winona still went to their school, meaning they had to deal with her in some capacity.

Fifth tumbler. God, her hand hurt. 

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” Nicole said. “I’ll blow off the date with her.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You do what you want- it’s possible she’s changed in the past few years. Just… Brings up a lot of bad memories.”

“That’s understandable,” Heather said. She flexed with her muscular arms and said with a faux-Brooklyn accent, “You want I should, uh, teach her a lesson?”

Cass chuckled, while the others laughed more audibly. 

“Also, you got a date with a hockey player?” Debbi asked, changing the subject. “Which one?”

“Curtis O’Hare,” Nicole said, her voice dripping with the poorly repressed lust of a devout Catholic. “My old roommate.”

“Niiiiiice!” Debbi said, a similar tone in her voice. Cass heard a high-five behind her. 

Heather started, “Light me a-”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Debbi cut her off. 

The lock finally clicked open. Cass’ hand throbbed with pain- she wasn’t used to more delicate applications of her telekinesis. Probably only able to manage that because all five of us are here, she thought. I wonder what else I can manage with the whole team present? I’ll have to run some tests- actually, we should all run some tests. 

“Okay,” Cass said. “Let’s take a peek inside.”

The door opened a crack, only to reveal someone on the inside tied to a chair with a bucket of water hanging over their head. And that someone was Bishop Marcus Roberts!

“Holy shit,” Debbi whispered. 

“We gotta help him,” Nicole said. 

“Abso-”

A sound poured out; a toilet flushing; a door opening; someone walking out into the main room of the basement. 

Cass closed the door and scampered away, the other girls following her. They cleared two blocks before they came to a halt. 

“Okay, so Father Gonzalez has the Bishop tied up in the Church basement,” Heather said. “That’s… Worrying.”

“You think he’s the Judas?” Debbi asked. 

“I mean, I doubt he was giving the Bishop a stern talking-to about trans rights,” Heather said. “No offense, Nicole.”

“None taken,” Nicole said. “We need to go confront the Father about this.”

“Confront the Father about what?” Father Gonzalez said. 

They all jumped, and they all screamed. 

“Father Gonzalez!” Debbi said. “What are you, what uh, how are you- why are you here?”

“I picked up some munchkins. Thought it would be a nice addition to tonight’s meeting,” he said, holding up a Dunkin’ Donuts box. “What’s going on?”

They all looked at Cass, clearly expecting her to take point. Granted, she had been taking point on this one already, but… Actually, no, that’s totally valid. I was the one being proactive. “Why are you keeping the Bishop tied up in the basement?”

Father Gonzalez sighed. “Could we maybe have this conversation back at the chapel?”

Reluctantly, Cass nodded. They went to the Church, where Father Gonzalez dunked his hand in the Holy Water and then explained the situation. They took a brief trip to the basement, and a splash of Holy Water on the Bishop’s face clarified things further.

Once that was done, they returned to the Church and Cass explained to Gonzalez what had happened towards the end of last night. He sat down in a front row pew, horror exploding on his aging face, hand over his mouth. Nicole sat down next to him, trying to size him up. Amy sat behind them both, ruminating with her fingers steepled together in front of her chin. Debbi and Heather sat before the altar, facing the rest of them, right next to each other. Cass was caught in the middle, pacing up and down the center. 

“How do we want to play this?” Heather finally asked. 

“I think the first thing we should ask is why you kept this from us, Father,” Nicole said. 

“Seconded,” Debbi said. 

“Very well,” Father Gonzalez said. “I was actually going to tell you about this tonight.”

“Well that’s certainly convenient,” Amy said. 

“I was, honestly,” Gonzalez said. “Again, I bought munchkins because I wanted to soften the blow. You have to believe me.”

“Okay,” Nicole smiled. 

“Nicole, no,” Amy and Debbi said simultaneously. 

“What? He told us the truth as soon as we found it- it’s not like he was keeping the Bishop in a remote location. It’s right below us, he had to have known we would’ve found it quickly,” Nicole said. She trusted Gonzalez implicitly, and Cass understood why, but the simple truth was that Cass had known the Bishop for far longer. Father Gonzalez had only been here a year and Cass wasn’t sure she could simply take him at his word the same way. 

“That said,” Nicole continued, turning towards the middle aged priest, “If nothing else, it’s cruel to leave him like that. I know the Bishop and I haven’t gotten along lately, but he’s tied to a chair being held prisoner in his own body. I just don’t know if I’m okay with that, Father.”

Gonzalez gave a small smile. “You have a kind heart, Mija- and a good point. I’ll admit, I’m wading out into the moral gray territory by doing this- it was why I wanted to loop you all in as soon as possible. But you have to understand- I did this for a reason. We are in combat with an enemy we don’t have a clear picture of- that demon can change that.”

“He’s gotta point,” Amy said. “I’ll admit, I don’t know the Geneva Convention’s stance on something like this, but how else are we gonna find out who our enemies are and make any progress?” 

“Maybe we should put it to a vote?” Debbi offered. 

“An excellent idea,” Gonzalez said. “You all know my stance on this matter, so I’ll abstain from casting a ballot. If you young ladies are not comfortable with what I’m doing, morally, I will acquiesce and we will exorcize this Cyrus tonight.”

“Cyrus?” Cass said. “That’s the demon’s name?”

“Yes. Or so he claims, at least. Why?”

“I’ve heard of him,” Cass said. “A demon I fought back in high school mentioned him. Said he was afraid of him.”

“Was I there for that one?” Amy asked, scrunching her brow 

“Yeah,” Cass said. “It was the time we fought a demon infesting a Confederate flag at a Civil War reenactment.”

“Oh yeah- that was a weird day.”

“So we’ve got a heavy hitter in the basement right now?” Heather asked. 

“Potentially. Demons do lie,” Cass said. 

“So then let’s vote,” Debbi said. “All in favor of keeping him prisoner until we can get him talking?”

Cass and Amy voted for keeping him hostage. Nicole and Heather voted against. 

“Deborah,” Gonzalez said, “Where do you stand? You need to break the tie.”

Debbi chewed on her lip as they all stared at her intently. Finally, she said. “I vote we keep him where he is. But I also wanna suggest a compromise: we hold him for one week. If we can’t get anything out of him by this time next Monday, we cut him loose. But we also need to take a more proactive approach- no more letting the bad guys come to us.”

“We could start nightly patrols again,” Cass suggested. 

Heather snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, like we did last spring.”

“Or when I was flying solo,” Cass said. 

“Good idea!” Debbi said. “We start actively seeking out the enemy at night. And we will regroup in one week about this. All in favor?”

Everyone raised their hands, and they called it a night. 

Cass watched Debbi and Heather clear out of the church, and watched Amy and Nicole bickering with each other as they left. Finally, it was just Cass and Gonzalez.

“Something you wanted to talk about, Mija?” Father Gonzalez asked in Spanish. 

Cass reached her throbbing hand out and forced Gonzalez’s dagger from the leather scabbard on his hip. She held the knife in her hand, at the ready for Gonzalez. “Don’t ever make that kind of unilateral decision without consulting us- without consulting me- again,” Cass replied in Spanish.

“Si,” Gonzalez nodded, utterly unfazed. 

“I mean it, Father,” Cass said, handing the knife back to him. “I don’t want this to happen again. Something big is coming, and we can’t be going behind each other’s backs.”

Gonzalez nodded solemnly, as if he completely agreed that he’d dropped the ball and wanted to improve. Cass wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. It didn’t matter- this could not happen again. No more going over her head, no more people who thought they knew best taking the decisions that were meant for her out of her hands. She was a Prophet, dammit- on these matters, she could sincerely say she knew best. 

She walked out of the church, and her friends were waiting for her. 

“Oh,” Cass said. “You guys are still here?”

“Yeah,” Debbi said, “Buddy system.”

“Come on, shorty,” Amy said. “Let’s all have a study party for an hour or two, then patrol for a while. Sound good?”

Cass cracked a smile in spite of herself, and she nodded, reassured by the fact that there were at least a few people she knew she could trust.