#this ask is 2 months late. i accept my spot in the shame corner

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Could ya make clover and frisk stare at us menicingly

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[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2  ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone. 

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif. 

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day. 

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you. 

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream. 

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

          How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf. 

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants. 

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon. 

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you. 

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips. 

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt. 

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face. 

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went. 

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done. 

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror. 

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance. 

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness. 

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get. 

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips. 

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing. 

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 2

photo credits - @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, language 

summary - You and Aaron reunite, but it’s not exactly anything to celebrate over. The case moves forward, but you really wish it hadn’t like this.  

a/n - no one is allowed to call me out on my lack of LA/california geographical knowledge. ive also started including readers mental thought train which is italicized (flashbacks will also be in italics, but ill always properly mark a flashback). if you arent tagged but asked, just send another ask/reply! i mustve missed it on accident.

blog rules 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

chapter 1 // chapter 3

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Chapter 2 

Aaron Hotchner was standing in front of you. Impeccable, not even a slight crease in his shoes and suit pressed to perfection. He still smelled faintly like cedar, a thought you quickly tried to send away; it was too late though, already remembering how pitiful it was post breakup, when you would smell the shirts he left at your house, a desperate attempt to remember that he existed in your life. You’d spent hours, days even, thinking about how you’d react if you were ever to see Aaron in person again. At the top of the list was screaming at him, really giving him a piece of your mind for leaving the way he did. Or, maybe you’d be cool and composed, the epitome of maturity and ‘I’m Totally Over You’. You’d even considered completely ignoring him, not even giving him a second glance. Instead you were frozen to the spot, staring up at the man who broke your heart. 

Pulling your eyes away from him, they darted towards the gap between his body and outside, internally debating if you’d be able to somehow sneak around him. As if he could read your mind, not like you had been particularly subtle, he moved to close the gap before you had the chance to fully formulate an escape. 

“Y/N,” he tried again, voice a bit firmer this time around. It’d be better if he couldn’t speak. But then again he had such a beautiful voice-. No, you mentally clamped down on that thought before it could lead you down another rabbit hole. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Tell you, uh, what?” You asked, hyper aware of how mousy you must’ve sounded.

“That someone was murdering women that looked like you. You should’ve called my team sooner, it was irresponsible to put yourself at further risk of-” 

“Are you trying to imply that this is somehow my fault, Agent Hotchner?” The words felt bitter on your tongue. It wasn’t like you, to suddenly be so quick to anger. Years in the spotlight had taught you to hold your tongue, but Aaron’s words managed to cut right through. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know that-,” he tried to interject, but you weren’t going to back down so easy. 

“I know what Agent? Please, tell me the acceptable response to this situation,” you spat out at him, finding a brief enjoyment in the way his face scrunched up ever so slightly. “The police were working on the case, I’ve dealt with weirdos before.” Aaron opened his mouth again as if to speak, but you weren’t finished, “You really think I believed you’d answer if I called?” 

His face fell at that and you felt some form of internal victory swell in your chest. Y/N 1 point, Aaron Hotchner 0. The victory was short lived though, as you came to the realization that the two of you were still in a very public setting. 

“I’m not going to fight with you Agent, I suggest you get back to your team.” With that you shoved your way past him, stomping the entire way to your car. It was a shame, the way the anger and sadness was consuming you, maybe if it hadn’t, this time you would’ve noticed the clicking coming from the tree line. 

----

Hotch wished you had been angry; it would’ve been easier to handle you if you had been screaming in his face or throwing low-blow comments his way. He could deal with anger. It’d be easier if he could pretend that you were being completely out of line and could warrant being ignored for the rest of the case. 

That wasn’t you though, and he knew this. He didn’t have to be a profiler to see and hear the way you struggled to hold yourself together. He didn’t need to be a profiler to feel how disappointed you were with him. Hotch didn’t know how to deal with this or you.  Even though it had been months, had he truly fallen so far from your graces; was your opinion so lowly of him now? 

Hotch wasn’t sure which was worse to stomach, the fact that you had such little faith in him or the deep rooted feeling in his gut that told him you were right- had you called him unannounced two months ago, he wouldn’t have picked up the phone. 

----

You sat in your car for twenty minutes, at least. It was pitiful, the way you were crying in your car, to a sad playlist, over a guy who hurt your feelings; it felt like high school all over again. In the moment, you had felt good, the way you watched Aaron’s face twist and fall at your words giving you some sick form of satisfaction. 

It’s not like you had lied to him or anything. You hadn’t even stretched the truth for ultimate impact. The whole overly formal ‘Agent’ thing was definitely on purpose though. No, you had meant every word you said to Aaron, especially about not believing he’d answer if you called. What would you have even said if you called and he did pick up? Hi Aaron, remember me? Good, anyway hope you’re doing well but I think I have a murderous stalker, can you help? Actually, that’s probably exactly how the conversation would’ve gone, but that’s beside the point. 

The point was that even if you could trust the Unit Chief of the BAU to do his job, you weren’t sure you could trust Aaron Hotchner anymore. 

----

When you finally did muster up the courage to return to the conference room, you really wished you hadn’t. You should’ve just turned your car on and left. Was it possible to ghost the FBI? You’d heard enough stories from Aaron about how their tech wizard had found people with just a single loose thread, there was definitely no way you were going to make some spy like disappearance. 

Aaron wasn’t in the room, something you were grateful for in the moment. But what you weren’t grateful for was how the team had managed to set up multiple bulletin boards in your absence; filled with your photo, crime scene photos, the dead women and your personal least favorite, the dead women’s bodies. 

Of course, you knew what was going on, you were a big girl, well old enough to understand and process the gravity of the situation. But you’d only seen photos of the women alive, with personality and humanity; something about that made them look less like you and more like them. Looking at them now- dead, eyes closed, faces tilted away from the camera- these women didn’t just look like you, they were you. 

You hadn’t even realized you were drifting closer to one of the boards until you felt a hand pull at the crook of your elbow. Turning your head ever so slightly you saw JJ, giving you one of her nice looks again. 

“Y/N, you don’t need to see these,” JJ started, already pulling you in the opposite direction. You were about to agree, head already halfway to a full nod when you noticed something from the corner of your eye. 

“Wait!” You exclaimed, pulling your arm back and getting right in front of a photo of victim #2. You very gently pulled the photo of the wall and held it closely in front of your face. Were you allowed to move it? Oh well. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes burning holes through your back so you turned to face them. “I, um, I’m pretty sure the sweater she’s wearing is mine.” You said, voice coming out as a whisper. 

The team certainly seemed to liven up at that statement. Even though they hadn’t even been in LA for a full 24 hours yet, it was obvious from the start that LAPD hadn’t been lacking on the case, rather the unsub was just that good. They reported no evidence from any dump sites,- and now those sites had been contaminated far too much to double check- there had been no witnesses for any of the abductions, and the unsub hadn’t attempted any contact with Y/N; all in all, they had nothing. 

“Y/N, are you sure?” Emily asked, she was quickly pulling photos of the other three women down, bringing them over to the roundtable. “Are the women in these photos wearing anything else you recognize?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure. There’s a little hole right there, on the side, the threads were pretty loose and I got stuck on a doorknob once, ripped it right open. I couldn’t find it when I went to fix it, just assumed I threw it away and forgot.” You said quietly, moving your way to the table. Your brain wasn’t working properly, hadn’t quite yet come to the conclusion that the rest of the agents already reached. He had gotten into your house. “Oh my god.” You whispered, voice shaking. “He was in my house, wasn’t he?” 

The agents all looked down at you with sympathetic gazes before Emily finally spoke up again. “We can’t be sure just yet, but I need you to look at these photos and tell me if you recognize anything else okay? Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, making your way over to the table and taking a seat. You were well aware one of the agents just called for Hotch, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. 

----

“Hotch,” Derek said, his voice urgent as he rounded the corner, interrupting whatever conversation Hotch was having with a random officer, “Y/N recognized the sweater victim #2 was wearing at the dumpsite as hers. Emily’s showing her the rest of the photos and it’s looking like the unsub left something of hers on each one.” 

That certainly got Hotch’s attention. He didn’t need Derek to fill in the blank, the unsub had been in your house. His fists tightened at his side and he couldn’t help the way his face twisted in anger. In this state, Derek knew better than to question this unusually personal reaction, instead just angling his body back towards the conference room. He didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Hotch brushed past him, making his way back to you. 

----

Starting with a photo of victim #1, you very slowly pulled it closer in front of you. Oh my god, her neck. Obviously, you’ve seen bruises before, been on a whole bunch of film sets that used makeup to create some pretty gory pieces, but nothing like this. The unsub didn’t just stangle these women, it was like he wanted to completely crush their throats. 

One of the agents behind you was questioning your ability to stomach this, so you quickly forced yourself to focus. It was the least you could do for these poor women, just give them your undivided attention for ten minutes, and then you could deal with everything else later.

Your finger traced over the bracelet victim #1 was wearing. “This is mine. There’s a singular heart engraved on the back of the third diamond’s plating. I bought it for myself after I got cast in my first big role, cried for weeks when I ‘lost’ it.” 

“And what about this one?” Emily asked, gently pulling victim #1’s photo away from you and replacing it with #4. You didn’t miss the way she turned the photos you’d already looked at upside down, as if to further shield you from them. Nor did you miss that she was technically skipping victim #3. 

It didn’t take you long to notice what was yours on victim #4. “It’s the dress, it’s really comfy, I used to wear it a lot, like a lot a lot. I brought it with me so often on trips I just assumed it got left in a hotel room somewhere.” 

Emily nodded, taking back that photo and turning it over as well. You could see her hesitation in showing you victim #3, but she slid it across the table to you as well. Her fingertips ghosting on the edge of the photo, ready to pull it back as soon as you gave an answer.

Victim #3 was tough. She looked the most like you, both when she was alive and certainly the way she looked now. 

You took a sharp intake of breath as you looked down at her the first thing that caught your eye was the necklace. Most certainly yours and most certainly the one that Aaron had given you for your three year anniversary. You realized it was lost a few months after the breakup and nearly tore your house apart looking for it; you didn’t have many things from your relationship with Aaron to prove he was once part of your life, making the few things you did have all the more important. “The necklace, there’s an A engraved on the back and I’m pretty sure those shoes are mine too.” Emily swept the photo back and out of view as soon as the last words left your lips. 

“JJ, get those items out of evidence immediately so we can be absolutely sure,” Hotch ordered. Aaron. You hadn’t even realized he had walked into the room, you turned to look at him, eyes wide with sadness and fear. The tears that were beginning to form tugged viciously on his heart.  “Miss L/N, my team and I are going to escort you back to your home and we’re going to need to canvas it for signs of entry and identify if anything else is missing. Is that okay?” He asked, his voice soft with something most of the members couldn’t place. 

You simply nodded at that, glad that you wouldn’t have to be alone, “Do you need my address, or will you just follow my car?” There was definitely humor in that, Aaron already knew exactly where you lived and the code to get through the gates. 

“Your address is already in our files, but for your safety we’ll be following close behind.” He assured you. The rest of the team was jumping into action, grabbing their personal belongings along with copious amounts of gloves and bags you assumed would be for potential evidence. 

As you all exited the building and entered your respective vehicles, it was Reid who realized where he’d heard that softness in Hotch’s voice before. It was the same tone he used to use with Hayley, back when things were good. 

----

Your house wasn’t far and it was a drive you knew well; grateful for the ability to somewhat distract yourself on the road. The gatesman to your development gave you a real odd look when you told him the two black SUV’s filled with FBI agents were with you, but you couldn’t care less about which neighbor he might spread that info too. Did you see? L/N brought in the FBI, wonder what she’s caught up in. At least all the neighbors and workers had signed airtight NDAs, no one was allowed to talk to any outsiders about the personal happenings of their fellow residents. 

Your house was towards the top of the hill, with a great overlook to the ocean. You had only been 20 when you bought the house and you viewed it as the ultimate achievement of all your hard work and determination. You couldn't shake the bad taste in your mouth as you pulled up the driveway. The house felt tainted now, something you were never sure you’d be able to shake. 

----

Once again, not exactly how you imagined the entire team entering your house for the first time. Your house was extensive, as were the grounds; the team quickly realized they would probably be here for the rest of the day and well into the night.

You were standing awkwardly in the middle of your foyer, unsure of how to exactly approach this situation. “So, there’s about 10 rooms in the house, not including the kitchen and general living spaces, as well with the basement which is technically one big room. I made maps once as a joke, I think I have some in the office, if you wanted those? Or we could do one big house tour and you can break off that way,” you were so rambling, but them being in your house and why they were in your house was setting in, “or you can just go off however you want-” 

“Miss L/N,” JJ said, there was that nice look again, “why don’t you show me around the house so I can get a base level understanding of everything there is. The rest of my team will go start a basic canvas of the inside and the grounds as well.” Thank you JJ. 

You nodded at this, glad that someone else was taking control of the situation. Before you could lead JJ towards the kitchen, your phone started to ring, startling you. When did you get this skittish? 

“My friend is calling,” you said, holding up your phone, “I gotta take this, I was supposed to meet him for coffee a few minutes ago.” You excused yourself, quickly making your way to an empty room away from the rest of the team. Your friend was annoyed at your more than last minute cancellation, but luckily he didn’t pry too hard and accepted your flimsy “I’m not feeling too well’ excuse on the first go. 

“I know, I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll make it up to you as soon as I feel better. Yeah, I love you too. I gotta go, bye.” As you hung up, you could feel a gaze burning into the back of your head. Turning around, you found Aaron staring down at you from the doorway. How long had he been there? 

“You should have told us about your boyfriend sooner. Trying to protect him from questioning will only-”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you exclaimed, a bit too hurriedly, “I, uh, I’m not seeing anyone at all actually, haven’t in a while.” Smooth. 

Aaron was smart enough to read through the lines and understand what you had left unsaid. His gaze didn’t give up, but you could’ve swore you saw relief somewhere in his eyes. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to say something, or if he was supposed to say something, or should you walk out, or- 

“Neither have I.” Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts, but just as quickly as he said it, he turned on his heel and left you alone in the room.

----

a/n - if anyone is wondering ive 100% cried multiple times at how kind and supportive everyone has been with me about this story. we’re only 2 chapters in but im already sad for it to end. yes i 100% have a bunch of other wip ideas for hotch. anywaaaaaaay, replies/asks/comments/reblogs/likes always appreciated! thank you so much for reading 

Taglist: @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

[bbhyeoliskooks]

/* 𝐈𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 *\

It’s strange that even though Taehyun doesn’t return your feelings, he becomes jealous when another boy grows closer to you.

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Pairing: Taehyun x Reader (female)

Genre: 2 cups of fluff and like three tablespoons of angst

Warnings: Puking, Attempt at drugging in punch ._.

Song: It Might Be You

(Guys! Guess what. I’m making another unrequited love au yay)

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Of course, moving on was going to be difficult. A big blow to the heart obviously wasn’t a good thing, but you knew you had to do keep going forward or else everything would be awkward. This was what you prepared for, but it was going to be hard when you thought of his words every second.

A lot of people would laugh at you for being so weak under pressure, but you confessed to Taehyun just a month ago when he asked you if you possibly liked him. 

After a year of hiding your feelings from your best friend, you couldn’t take it anymore and you told him what you truly felt. You should’ve known better not to say anything about your foolish love, but you weren’t able to keep what was forbidden from him any longer.

Just the way he would brightly smile at you was enough to give a tremor in the knees because you were so in love. You couldn’t go a minute without thinking about how sweet he was like an amber flower and he would envelope your happiest dreams in a vibrant, heavenly-like scenery as you reached out to take his hand. You swore that every time you would take grasp of his hand, he would pull away no matter how tight you held on which caused you to wake up with a deep frown on your face. 

Quickly it became very unbearable, and you loudly burst, telling him that you wanted to give your relationship a chance.

It was obvious that he didn’t like you as much as you did by the dumbfounded look on his face when you told him, but you hoped that somewhere deep in your heart that he longed for you as well. Your delusions were quickly shut down as he softly reminded you that he only felt platonic feelings towards you and desired to continue being your best friend since you two had a lot of history with each other. You didn’t know how you did it, maybe by the adrenaline or so, but you managed to keep a fake smile on your face through the day before coming home and letting tears out from how much you wanted to turn back the time and just say no when he asked you.

It was a good thing that he shut you down before the heart grew fonder, but you hated it more than anything. More than anything, you wanted to hold him in your arms while you watched the gleaming stars of the night fall down into the palm of your hand, reassuring that he was the only one for you. It was a shame that you couldn’t get what you wanted, and you had to accept the fate of destiny before you moved on.

It was considered strange for someone who was just rejected, but you actually made an effort to get over Taehyun each day. You cursed yourself for falling in love with your best friend knowing that it would be hard to find someone who you really liked enough to replace him. By making those attempts, you went out more- going to parties that everyone was invited to, talking to those out of class, and calling the boys that had a bad reputation for playing with other girls’ hearts. You did things that you didn’t like just because you were hurt.

Eventually, your strong friendship with Taehyun had grown apart each day since you tried to avoid seeing him. You wondered if he was disappointed in you for acting this way, but perhaps this was the only way to purge your feelings. That led you to try even harder than before because you wanted to salvage what little you had with him. Despite your efforts, you would find his breathtaking smile in the most saccharine of dreams you had at night while you soundly slept.

It only made you unhappy because you had put a limit on seeing him each week as well as ditching him every time he asked to hang out with you.

Today was a bit different than the others, the only thing being that you wanted to throw up whatever you had in your system. You got up from bed that warm morning with a lightheaded feeling and a parched, dehydrated throat. You felt horrible because all of the energy was drained out of you even after a great rest and decided to take some syrup medicine for colds like this. It seemed strange to you because you slept for a good amount, maybe ten hours at most if you counted correctly.

Your stomach was bubbling when you drank a little bit, although not the good kind. There was a big exam today that you studied for, so you knew you couldn’t skip class just to stay at home and get better. Yes, it wasn’t wise at all, but you didn’t want to miss the test that you had been stressing over all week.

Not to mention a party today that a specific someone invited you to go as their partner. You had to go because you would grow guilty if you saw him sad the next day. Lately, you had been talking and found out that you had many things in common. His name was Min Minho, a boy who was from the other class and somehow became your study partner. It was fun to go on little dates with him for just the two of you, but it was as if your heart was only dormant when you were with him. You didn’t feel butterflies when you saw him like with Taehyun, but perhaps with each time you spend with him, your heart would flutter. You were forcing your heart to like him, your feelings being as real as much as the way you denied you loved another boy who was your best friend.

---

You found yourself dozing off in class even if you had drunk a few cups of coffee from your favorite cafe. Usually it worked if you had one cup, but it wasn’t enough to energize you, and you kind of overdosed drinking three. For a few times during different classes, you went to the bathroom just to throw up nothing because you didn’t have breakfast. You thought it would help, but it went the opposite of what you expected.

In times like this, Taehyun would scold you while feeding you a lot of food during lunch that he purposefully brought from home, a little meaningful thing that he always did when he somehow guessed that you hadn’t eaten yet. You hoped that he wouldn’t nag you for today when you two sat together to eat lunch as promised on the rooftop.

You walked out of the bathroom with a frown engraved on your lips. You were too busy thinking about how you would fall over if you didn’t sleep that you didn’t notice that someone was waiting for you, leaning against the wall of the girls’ bathroom. You bumped right into him, tripping over your feet and shutting your eyes at the impact of the floor hitting your bottom.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Your head was incredibly dizzy, and you stood up slowly from the spot on the tile. The person helped you up a little bit with a soft grip on your arm, and you recognized that scent from anywhere. You opened your eyes and gasped when you made eye contact with Taehyun and involuntarily slapped his hand away.

He gazed at you anxiously, realizing that you looked a bit heated and cleared his throat at your panicked stare directed at him. “Y/N, you feel too warm. Are you sick? You never go to the bathroom in the morning unless you need to throw up.”

You shook your head, holding in the urge to throw up again so you wouldn’t seem sick in front of him. You couldn’t let him check up on you daily after he rejected you a week ago. It was ridiculous, but you wanted to save enough dignity to meet his eyes every time you saw him.

You found it funny how you prioritized your pride more than telling the truth.

“I’m feeling fine, Hyun. I should go back to class now, see you later?” You didn’t give him time to answer before rushing away using all of the strength in your legs. He glanced at your direction, sighing in disappointment as he watched you drift away from him for the nth time that week. “She always says that, but it never carries through.”

---

You got ready that night after a few hours of rest and homework, but that made you feel even worse than earlier. You thought that catching up on a little bit of rest would heal you a bit to keep what little food you ate earlier, but that didn’t work. You just felt sicker when you got up from bed, however you couldn’t leave Minho alone. You’d be so guilty even if you called him to let him know that you were sick.

Taking a few more teaspoons of medicine and chugging a bottle of water, you wondered if Taehyun was really going to be there. He didn’t go to these events, but you heard that a girl from his homeroom asked him to come so she wouldn’t be alone. This irked you since he said yes immediately, but you could only be curious. Maybe he liked her which is why he agreed and that hurt you much more than the rejection. You should’ve known with the way he didn’t hesitate to accept.

The place was full of sweaty teenagers who were dancing in every corner. You pretended to realize that it wasn’t your thing, but you knew this whole time, getting angry at yourself for not staying at home. It was so warm and stuffy that you wondered if you would ever be able to find Minho in this mess. You hated that you were in the middle of everything, and walked over to the drink section when a familiar figure walked up to you.

“Y/N! My baby is here!” Your tired mind was hazy with burning thoughts, but you knew that voice straight away when it passed through your ears. It was Minho, but why did he call you his baby? You weren’t in a relationship with him, so he had no right to call you that as of now.

You turned back to see him holding one red solo cup in his hand that meant he had gotten punch from the table. You were going to yell at him for calling you that, but you knew that it would come off as rude when you had been leading him on this whole time. Maybe tomorrow was the a better time to remind him that you weren’t looking for a relationship when the music was blasting so much so that he was barely able to hear you. ”Uh, hi? It’s good to see you as well, Minho.” You could hear your voice dripping with passive aggressiveness, but he didn’t seem to actually catch on how pissed you sounded with your clenched smile.

He stepped closer to you with a smirk on his face as he gripped onto your arm. It was too tight for your comfort, but you couldn’t get out of his grasp. He raised an amused eyebrow at you who surrendered easily and fell against his chest as your strength had failed you. He smugly chuckled at your weakness and patted the top of your head despite your muffled sounds of protest. “Take a drink, baby. You are a bit tired and I think it will definitely make you feel better.”

Many alarms were going off in your head, but all that was ringing through your ears was to be polite. Minho was your study buddy, you knew that you could trust him as always. He wouldn’t drug you or something like that, right? Oh, if you just looked at the evidence before then you would see how much you were a fool for not thinking that he had ulterior moves. 

You lazily opened your mouth a little, feeling hypnotized by his charming green eyes as he was about to pour the drink. You were waiting for the liquid to fall straight into your lips, but it never came when the grip on your arm suddenly became loose. You rubbed your eyes in shock when you saw Taehyun grab the drink in Minho’s hand causing the both of them to get drenched from the sudden movement. You weren’t able to make sense of it at that moment and thought that Minho was only looking out for your well-being.

Taehyun sprinted up to you as you felt yourself gradually become light each second. His hands were wet from the drink when he took your hand into his, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to go home by yourself because you were already pissed that today was ruined just because you had a tiny little cold. You were sure that the exam went terrible, and now that the two of them were fighting for no reason was not much worse than the two of them compared.

You glared at him and forcefully jerked your hand from him. “Get away from me! Leave me alone, you know you’re only making it worse.” His eyes widened and he stepped towards you with uneasiness in his stance. “Y/N... I’m only trying to help you, but you do all of these things that I tell you not to! Your boyfriend here was trying to drug you, and it wouldn’t be a good thing if I wasn’t here.”

He was in disbelief that you were angry at him when it was supposed to be the other way. Why couldn’t you see how worried he was for you? Especially after he had hurt your feelings unintentionally. He couldn’t stand seeing you sad because of him and tried to give you space so you could move on, but that clearly turned out sour. He did some thinking these past few weeks and realized that all he craved for was your soothing presence. Just for you to be in his arms while he softly sang you to sleep was enough for him, but he couldn’t see it until now.

It was really unfortunate that you had to avoid him to make him discover his feelings, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you had already moved on due to how he treated you this week.

When he went back to class today after talking to you, he knew that you were lying to him when you told him that you weren’t feeling sick. He was planning to grab a little bit of food for you during dinner so you’d feel a bit better, but he was startled when you didn’t answer the door. He cursed himself for not remembering that you were planning to go to the place with Minho when he advised you not to. He always got bad vibes from him, and this just proved his point when he begged you to stop seeing him. He was your boyfriend now, right? Taehyun had no right to be jealous, but he couldn’t stop himself from being so when he might’ve lost the chance to be with you.

“Boyfriend?! You think he’s my boyfriend after a month you rejected me?! What are you trying to say?” You clenched your jaw feeling the tension elevate in the atmosphere, growing frustrated at what your best friend was assuming. You were probably overreacting, but after all of the crap that happened, you found this the only way to escape the situation.

He grabbed your hands pleadingly that it would seem desperate to whoever was looking your way. This time you didn’t pull away because your heart was yearning some type of affection from Taehyun even if it was something little like this. You were too weak both inside and weak to walk away from him. It was ridiculous to anyone from the outside, but perhaps more or less 30 days without touching him was not suitable for someone like you.

“That’s what you realized after I supplied you with all of that information?” He sighed in disappointment and brought you closer to him, a stern glare on his face. “He was going to do something awful to you! Why can’t you see how much you’re hurting yourself when you go to these things? You’re so naive when I’m not able to watch over you for a little bit!”

You sniffled, realizing that the drops of tears that you tried to hold back were already falling. He was yelling at you and for a good reason, but it was tiring to hear the same things over and over again from your friends, and especially from him. You acknowledged that it wasn’t good for you when you’d wake up every morning with a headache, but you didn’t want to hear it from him. In your head, if he was really looking out for you then he wouldn’t avoid you like you did.

It was an extremely petty and unfair opinion, but that still didn’t stop you from feeling hurt.

“I know, I know, Taehyun! Don’t tell me again that I’m wrong!” You furiously rubbed your cheek when yet another tear fell. His expression became horrified when he noticed that you were upset, but you didn’t have a chance to listen to him since you interrupted him. “I know I shouldn’t go to these parties since I might be in danger whenever I talk to someone I haven’t met. I know I shouldn’t meet up with people that you warn me about. I know I shouldn’t go without your permission because you’re always too worried about me, but if you only knew the reason why, then you’d understand!”

You looked up into his sparkling eyes, subtly letting him know that you were the most vulnerable in moments like these. You hadn’t been very open with him this past few year because of your heart, so this could be the only time where you’d truly be honest to him. Of course you confessed, but you lied and said that they were only minor feelings when they were the exact opposite. Hopefully, he would be able to see through the obstacle of your tears and understand how hurt you felt from making terrible decisions.

“I’m sorry, okay? I really am. I shouldn’t have fell for you I know, but you don’t have to rub it in. I’m tired of feeling like this because I’m aware you’ll never feel for me like I do. What makes it worse is that I’m trying to get away from you, but you always seem to haunt me in my dreams! I love you so much so that it seems hopeless.” 

He peered into your twinkling eyes that were unfortunately filled with what he hated the most, a look of genuine sadness because of him. He couldn’t help but smirk at how adorable you sounded, but you took it as a hint that he was mocking at you for saying the truth. You lingered for a little bit for him to say something just in case although being delusional wasn’t the best choice right now.

Taehyun cleared his throat and let go of your hands before scratching the back of his neck. You looked at him again instead of the dim floor, seeing a little bit of red coating his cheeks. You shook your head rapidly, swearing at yourself for thinking that he was nervous because he had something to say- something like a confession. You waited for a while, a few doubts clouding your mind until he spoke again, mentally preparing your heart for the worst.

“Y/N... I’m sorry, but I don’t think I like you.” You had to hear it for the second time again. He was saying something with a big grin on his face, but you couldn’t hear it without the sound of your heart cracking piece by piece in your ears. It was almost like anyone could hear it shatter, and you just wanted to get out of there. Even getting for the rejection wasn’t good when you actually had to process what he said.

You gulped the big lump in your throat and softly smiled at him, one that was obviously artificial for someone who knew you for a long time. Here you were again hiding your heartache despite how much he knew! You wanted to hit yourself wherever you could for feeling the things you were as the hate for yourself grew more stronger. Questions racked up in your head like if there was someone better than you and you weren’t good enough to appeal to him. 

“Ah, see? I was right. I should get going though. My stomach hurts and I feel a bit under the weather.” He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips thinking for a second before saying something. Again, you didn’t give him a chance as you glanced at his confused face and waved a hasty goodbye that only he could see. “I’ll get going, Hyun! See you tomorrow!” 

You were sure that you looked like a fool at the moment, but you took off the heels that you were wearing and ran away from his sight while he was yelling at you to stop. You didn’t know how you were able to do it, maybe because of  the adrenaline rushing through your blood, but you made it home in one piece after walking by yourself in a gloomy night.

You crashed into bed drawing out a long sob that had took the remaining energy out of you. You shouldn’t have gone to this party knowing that Taehyun would be there. Heck, it didn’t even ring an alarm bell in your messed up head that suspicious Minho tried to drug you with something! One of the people that you trusted and wanted to get closer to had ulterior moves that you didn’t perceive, yet you skipped past of it and looked more into the relevant rejection. It was probably the reason why Taehyun wasn’t able to see you in that way because you were too naive to be around with. The negative thoughts reverberating in your cracked heart was enough to knock you out, as well as the perpetual tears that flowed out from you.

---

The following day, you awoke to a few quiet shuffling sounds from the covers. The morning sunlight was shining through the window which caused you to wake up from your deep rest with a subtle frown on your face. It wasn’t supposed to be this bright when you had to get ready for school, and it confused you as to why the sun was peeking from the corner of your window. You felt tired than usual again, but it wasn’t an excuse to get back to sleep when there was a lot of work to complete. 

You were actually tempted to fall back asleep and snuggle against your fluffy plushies until you realized that today must’ve been a Saturday. You were so lucky to have a day to yourself! A sigh of relief came out of you and you rubbed your cheek against the pillow you were resting your head on until a big realization smacked you right in the face.

Wait a sec... yesterday was a Thursday, right? That only meant today was a Friday then! Didn’t your alarm go off?! You shot up from your spot on the bed, but instantly stopped from how dizzy you felt. It felt like you were going to fall over if you didn’t have the bed to support you from underneath your sweaty palms.

There was a light chuckle from someone on the corner of your bed and you sat up slowly before they ushered you and tucked you back in. Your eyes seemed to be waking up as they were filled with a black horizon that stretched across both of them. You rubbed your face, groaning as you thought it was your guardian who came back from one of their business trips. You sighed and smiled softly, thinking that they would make your favorite food for the day since you were feeling terrible. It was a surprise when your vision finally cleared.

Your eyes widened when you made eye contact with Taehyun and you plunged back into the heavy blanket, covering yourself so that he wouldn’t see how ashamed you were. How did he come inside anyway? It obviously wasn’t like you handed him a key earlier that month when you warned him that it was for only for emergencies. 

Just like that, a big gush of memories whipped across your head and you slowly regained what you had said yesterday. You facepalmed yourself and held your breath, wishing that he wouldn’t say anything about what happened last night. 

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. You could tell that a grin was gracing his features because of how playful he sounded, but you didn’t want to look. Yes, he was breathtaking to look at, but that wasn’t the point! You wanted to hit yourself for thinking of those few words while you wondered if he was going to say something.

“Why didn’t you stay at home yesterday, dove? You were sick, and you shouldn’t have gone out like that. I was planning for us to order some take-in and watch movies all night and hold you in my arms.” You covered your eyes with the blanket, feeling embarrassed for thinking in such an irrational way. Your mind must’ve been heavily tampered with how sick you were if you thought yesterday that Taehyun was in the wrong.

“I couldn’t have let Minho go alone! You know exactly who I am, probably better than myself. I understand now that I shouldn’t have entrusted him with my secrets, but if you got to know his persona, then you would’ve been fooled too.” He didn’t say anything, so you continued to fill the empty bubble of silence. “By the way... I’m sorry for acting like that towards you. I should’ve been more mature about the situation, so I sincerely apologize for my actions.”

He smiled at you, inching towards your spot to hold your hand. You peeked out from the covers and you accepted it hesitantly but happily since he forgave you by the grin he was shooting at you and slid closer. “Hey it’s okay, but you should’ve brought me. You didn’t get to hear what I said before you ran away.”

Now, your heart was pounding. Was he seriously going to reject you for the third time? You held back a laugh of disbelief because you didn’t want to talk about how he rejected you twice, much to your embarrassment. It was difficult to look him straight in the eye and smile as if you had really meant it. Nonetheless, you remained quiet as to hear what he had to say and looked sadly at his drooping figure. “What do you want to say that could possibly make this better, Taehyun?”

He exhaled in the comforting silence, seemingly clearing his head for a second before turning to you. “Well this is going to sound awkward, and you might not accept it anyway after all I’ve done. I thought you said no yesterday when you ran away, but turns out you didn’t hear me. I thought it’d be better to wait for you to get some rest since it might’ve come out as a shock.”

You nodded your head, a bit puzzled on why he was rambling. He usually didn’t do this unless he was nervous to tell the truth or something like that. You hoped that it was good, one that wouldn’t send another hit to your poor heart that you still needed a bit more time to mend.

“What I’m saying is... I love you, Y/N. I really do, it’s just that I didn’t see it until you avoided me.” Words were caught in your throat and you were going to yell at him to stop playing with your feelings, knowing that he was blind sometimes. However, by the look in his shimmering eyes plus the tint of sadness, you realized that he was only telling the truth.

You were unable to say anything as your mind couldn’t find the words to, so he continued. “I’m really sorry you had to go through all of that. I did a lot of thinking, and I couldn’t help but be jealous when you hung out more with Minho. By that point I had already known I loved you so much, but I was unable to say something to you because I thought that you had already hated me.”

There were tears welling up in his eyes that he tried to hide, but you saw through him anyway. You heard how innocent the little sniffles coming from his nose were, and grinned although he couldn’t see it with how busy he was trying to conceal his tears. His feelings towards you were so pure, but he couldn’t put them into words and he didn’t know if you were going to reject him like he did to you. 

The baby bluebirds were chirping outside of the window when you were the first one who finally spoke up. It had seem like a long time where you both wallowed in your thoughts and waited for the other to say something, even if it was negative. He just gazed at you longingly as you did the same, wondering if he could feel how much you were at the moment.

Your voice started a little wobbly, but you didn’t mind. You just felt so happy that you finally had what you desired after a whole year. “So this whole time, you love me?” He was going to say a word, but you were quick to cut him off. “I have absolutely no words to say. I can’t say anything, but yes! Of course, I still love you, dummy. What makes you think that I was going to say no?”

You jumped up from the bed to give him a back hug on the edge of the right side and nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck. He giggled a sweet melody, wiping away the few tears that had fallen and leaned into your embrace. 

“So, you’re my girlfriend now?” 

“You must be blind if you think I’m going to say no.”

Both of you laughed a little before you grew quiet at what you both obtained.

This was the feeling that you had strove for, to finally know that he was yours and that you were his.

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Posted: 7/25/20- Added to Queue

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[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 6

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn't really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma's teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn't come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, AO3

~*CS*~

Chicago, May 15th

Emma could feel a headache starting to bloom at the base of her skull.  She hadn’t gotten enough sleep, which wasn’t unusual, and she’d only had the chance to drink one cup of coffee since the day started, which was.  To make matters worse the sound check had been going wrong since the beginning and she had been forced to play the first verse of Bite of Iron four times, never making it past the first line of the chorus before having to start again.

“Alright, Emma, let’s see if that fixed it.  Whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, biting her cheek against the tirade she wanted to let loose.  Barely a minute in the sound tech interrupted her again.  Flexing her hands into fists over the keys of the piano she counted to ten, then did it backwards before speaking into her mike.

“Can we take a break?”

“Su-”

“They’ve almost got it, Emma.  Right gentleman?” Regina broke in from the side of the stage where she was standing with the others since they weren’t needed for the song.  She had barely looked up from her phone and was still typing away as she continued, “You do want it to sound right, don’t you?  Let them do their job and then you can move past this one.”

At Regina’s words something in Emma snapped.  She stood abruptly from her piano, a loud buzzing in her ears.  Someone, she wasn’t entirely sure who, started saying something to her but she barely heard what they were saying as she practically ran offstage.  All she wanted was to get a lungful of fresh air, anything to ease the clawing at her throat.

In her rush to find an exit that led outside she ended up getting turned around and completely confused as to where she was.  The clawing feeling had traveled down to her chest, compressing her lungs so it was getting hard for her to breathe.  Before she could lose her shit completely a warm hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged gently.

“Follow me, love.”

She let Killian lead her through the labyrinth like corridors, barely paying attention to the turns they were taking or the doors they were going through.  However, when they entered a stairwell she paused.

“Killian…”

He looked back at her, giving her an encouraging smile, “Trust me?”

It wasn’t even a question to her.  Somehow, in the month since they’d been thrown together he had become someone she trusted completely.  She nodded and his smile widened as he squeezed her hand and began their ascent.  Though she found she was distracted from their progress again at the sight of her hand in his, not to mention the way his jeans hugged his ass as he climbed.

All too quickly Killian opened a door that had sunshine streaming into the stairwell and the heat of the day rolling over them.  He had taken her to the roof of the auditorium.  It was dotted with air conditioning units and not much else but she noticed that it did have a pretty good view of the city that was sprawled out all around them.

“It’s not much but it’ll give you some time to yourself-” he held out a slim silver can that she hadn’t noticed before, “I hadn’t seen your ubiquitous starbucks cup today so I thought you might want this.  Come back down when you’re ready and don’t worry about Regina, I’ll handle it.”

Taking the can of coffee, the one that was on her rider for the days exactly like the one she’d been having, a brand that could only be found in the corner of Maine that Storybrooke inhabited and that Killian had clearly gone to the green room to get before finding her, she was suddenly overwhelmed in a different way than before.  No one, not even Mary Margaret and David had known exactly what she needed when things got overwhelming and provided it without question or needing an explanation.  He made to leave but she gripped his hand in hers, holding him in place.

“Stay?” She asked softly, “Please?”

His eyes searched hers before he seemed to find what he was looking for.  With a nod he walked them over to a small strip of shade provided by the stairwell housing and sat with his back against it.  Once he settled he patted the spot next to him, wordlessly inviting her to join him.

The surface of the roof was warm when she sat but not uncomfortably so.  There was a slight breeze, not enough to dry the sweat that was gathering at her temples but enough to break the heat of the day.  Emma could hear the traffic moving along and through the city, a not so unpleasant hum that matched the air conditioning units kicking on and off to make a bit of a song.  She felt herself smile at the thought of putting lyrics to the sounds and then snorted in amusement at the fact that it was easier to make up a song on the fly than to play one she’d intentionally written.

“Something funny, Swan?” Killian asked, his own voice laced with humor.

“Only if you’re me,” she said wryly, snapping open the coffee and drinking near half of it one one go.  She tipped her head back and stared up at the cloudless blue sky, “Did you know?”

“Hmm?  Know what?”

She kept her gaze trained upwards but could imagine his eyebrow ticked up in slight confusion and intrigue, “When you said to play Bite of Iron, did you know that I’d never played it live before?”

“Not once?” She shook her head and he gave a low hum, “No, love, I didn’t.  It is a beautiful song, it’s a shame the sound guys did it such an injustice.  No wonder you stormed off.”

For a moment she almost didn’t want to correct him.  There really was no reason to explain or even justify her behavior.  She was sure that he’d seen worse from others in the business, she’d seen it herself.  The thing was she wanted to tell him the truth of what had upset her.  It was like the words were pressing against her lips, ready to spill out into her lap.  Just as she made up her mind to go through with it, absolutely certain that he wouldn’t judge or condemn her, he began to speak.

“Everyone assumed Milah was the diva of the group and she could be, if the occasion called for it, as could I.  But Liam-” he chuckled and then sighed, “Liam never gave into theatrics but if things weren’t going exactly how he wanted it he could, and would, let his displeasure be known.  He once refused to board our tour bus one evening because the driver had decided to take a nap and got to the venue nearly an hour late.  We had to charter a plane to make it to our next stop on the tour because Liam’s obstinance caused an even bigger delay to our departure.  The label made him pay for the cost of the plane from his own pocket.  Served the git right.”

Emma sat completely still, entranced.  He hadn’t talked to her about Liam since Cincinnati and she’d noticed that he’d been writing in his notebooks more since then.  She had a feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same push that she was to share the painful parts of his past.  To trust her with them.

“You miss him,” she said softly but surely.  It was easy to hear the longing in his voice.

“Aye, I miss them both.  It’ll be twelve years and I still expect Liam to come walking into my apartment calling me ‘little brother’ or I’ll wake and reach for Milah across the empty bed-” his hand clenched on his thigh before he sighed again, “There’s a constant ache in my chest for missing them.”

She didn’t know what to say, what he would want to hear.  There had been precious few people in her life that she felt that strongly about and she had never lost any of them.  Just thought of either of the Nolans or Ruby being taken from her as Killian’s brother and fiance had been had her breath backing up in her throat.

“This probably wasn’t what you had in mind when you escaped, was it?” he asked, nudging her shoulder with his. “Apologies.”

“Don’t,” she said quickly, grabbing onto the hand that was still clenched on his thigh. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about them.  I get the feeling you don’t do it very often.”

“That I don’t-” he unclenched his hand and she let hers settle in his open palm, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest as she did. “It was too hard at first, I’d lash out or dive deeper into the bottle, most times both, and then people just stopped asking.  Decent people that is, the gossip rags and paps are the soulless exception.

“Milah hated them from the start.  They followed her around more than the rest of us seeing as she was the lead singer and a beautiful woman to boot.  Once they got it in their minds we’d been romantically involved for longer than we had been they were relentless.”

Emma tried to hide her surprise at learning that nugget of information but with her hand in his he appeared to have felt it.  He grinned, his eyebrow raising in an unasked question.

“It’s just, uh, I thought that you guys were, um, high school sweethearts,” she meant to make it sound like a statement yet it came out like a question.

He laughed, a small but genuine thing, his free hand scratching at the back of his neck, “Our publicist spun it like that and we went along with it for interviews and such.  More romantic he liked to say.  Truth was even though we’d gone to the same secondary school she was in Liam and Robin’s year and I’d hardly spoken to her then.  It was only when they started playing together after they’d left that I got to know her.  She seemed so sophisticated and worldly to my scrawny teenage ass, even though she was only three years older than me and had never left our tiny village either.

“It wasn’t until during our first real tour that we gave into the attraction that’d been growing between us.  From then on it was like throwing a match at a puddle of petrol.  It was us against the crazy world we’d been thrust into and we thrived on it,” he said with a frown. “We partied a little too hard, fought a little too meanly, and were dependent on each other in ways I know now weren’t healthy.  I loved her deeply, I always will, and I know she loved me but sometimes I wonder if we would have made it had she lived.”

“I think…” Emma paused, wanting to get the words right and not completely destroy whatever it was that was growing between them at the same time, “You kinda seem like a guy that wouldn’t let something like that slip through your fingers.  The way you were talking about her just now?  I think you would have fought like hell to stay together.”

“I’d like to think so,” he said, ducking his head. “Liam would say the same thing when I voiced my doubts.  He’d been dead set against it at first and wasn’t too pleased with how we behaved most days but he always said he understood how much we loved each other.  Of course he also understood that we wrote some of our best songs once we got together.”

“Some of your best songs,” she said thoughtfully, drawn back to the reason she’d fled the stage, “You were right about Bite of Iron, you know.  When you suggested it I was trying to figure out why the set didn’t seem right.  The Boston crowd was so surprised when I started playing it.”

“It’s an exceptional song, Swan.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Do you know what it’s about?  I mean, you’ve obviously listened to it a lot since you knew it would work out.”

The tips of his ears tinged pink, “I’ve listened to it a time or two.  It’s a love song is it not?  Or rather, a love lost song?”

She snorted, only half in amusement, “Something like that.  Everyone knows that I’m an orphan and all that jazz, I’ve never hid it and Regina says that it’s my ‘thing’.  You know, the thing that makes me unique.”

“Bollocks, you make yourself unique,” Killian said heatedly, squeezing her hand in emphasis, “Your songwriting, your playing, everything about you sets you apart from the chaff.”

It was her turn to blush, “I mean, obviously, but, you know, it’s Regina.”

“Aye, she’s not one prone to mincing her words,” he scoffed.

“No, but she has my back and knows how to bury things.  Like how I went to juvie and had a baby.”

Her attempt at nonchalance fell flat as Killian stiffened beside her.  She steeled herself, ready for him to pull away from her both physically and emotionally.  While she absolutely believed he wouldn’t think less of her or go to the press with the information she had no idea what his reaction could be.

“Did you- was it-” he huffed out a breath through his nose, clearly frustrated.  A muscle in his jaw was ticking but when he looked at her his gaze was soft, “I’m sorry that happened to you, love.”

The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard.  Coming from anyone else she would have brushed it off as a platitude or pitying.  Killian sounded like he was the one who had caused it all and was apologizing for it.  She felt a glowing warmth expanding inside her, giving her the courage to continue.

“I didn’t do it, in case you were wondering.  I was young, stupid, and in love, not the greatest combination-” she deadpanned, shrugging one shoulder.  Taking a deep breath she forged on, “I had just turned seventeen and was on my own since I’d had the bright idea of running away from the Nolan’s.  I don’t even remember why now, probably some fucking teenage angst or something.  Doesn’t matter.  So I met this guy, Neal.  And he was older and knew how to survive on the streets and he got me.  Just… understood all the shit I’d gone through with the whole orphan thing and didn’t judge me for it.  We had this whole outlaw life, living in the back of this car I’m pretty sure was stolen, sneaking into motel rooms when people checked out for a few hours, and stealing but only food.  Well, I thought it was only the food.

“A few months after we got together he comes up to me in a panic, telling me how the cops are after him because of some watches he’d stolen and left at the bus depot and how he’s gotta go to Canada and I couldn’t go with him-” she gave Killian a rueful smile, “You probably know how well that went over.”

“Like a lead balloon I’m guessing,” he murmured with a somewhat pained chuckle.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “So I come up with this brilliant plan, yeah?  Why don’t I go get the watches?  Prove to him that he needed me and obviously the cops wouldn’t be looking for a teenage girl, right?  He just lit up when I told him, said I was a genius and gave me the key to the locker he’d stashed the watches in.  It worked, I got those damn watches.

“When I got back to where Neal was hiding out he gave me some song and dance about fencing the watches to get the money we need to go to Canada.  How I couldn’t go with him because the guy he had to deal with doesn’t like strangers or whatever.  Before he leaves, though, he gives me one of the watches, a giant clunky thing covered in diamonds that was worth a hell of a lot more than anything I had ever owned in my life.  He tells me-” she scoffs and scowls at the memory, “tells me he doesn’t want me to be late for when we were supposed to meet back up.  I swallowed every word, spent the whole day dreaming up all sorts of plans of what our life was going to be like in Canada while I waited for it to be the time we’d agreed on.  I wasn’t late but neither were the cops who’d been tipped off that I’d be there holding stolen property.  The fucking, lying, sneaky asshole had left a couple of the watches in my backpack along with the one he’d put on my wrist.  Got a year in juvie for being his goddamn scapegoat.”

“But you were innocent,” Killian spluttered, moving to stand until she grabbed his arm and forced him to stay next to her.

“Which is part of the reason why I went to juvie instead of prison,” she said calmly, even though she was amazed he was indignant on her behalf. “They couldn’t prove I had anything to do with actually stealing the watches, just that I had some of them on me.  The other part was being closer to seventeen than eighteen.  Another month older and I think they would have tried me as an adult.”

“They caught him at least?  This Neal?” Killian spat out the name, his lips curling back in disdain.

“I don’t know and I don’t really care anymore,” she answered honestly.

He nodded as if it made sense before lowering his eyes and asking hesitantly, “And the… erm… the babe?”

She sighed and felt as if she had dredged it up from deep in her soul.  Her hand was still on Killian’s arm and he placed his other on hers, squeezing her fingers gently.  Somehow she knew if she said she didn’t want to talk about it he’d understand and wouldn’t push and that more than anything gave her the courage to keep going.

“I found out I was pregnant about a month into my sentence and the first person to congratulate me was a guard passing by my cell.  I think that more than anything made me realize how much I’d fucked up.  The next time I had phone privileges I called Mary Margaret and David.  Back then I told myself that it was because they were the only number I had memorized but I think deep down I knew they wouldn’t judge me or just brush me off as a runaway they had no obligation to help anymore.  Mary Margaret took the next flight out to Phoenix and David came a few days later.  It was the first time I’d ever felt really, truly loved.  They could only stay for a week but we became a family in that week.”

She could feel her throat tightening but kept talking, “The Nolans were there for me the whole time, as much as they could be with their jobs and the group home.  They even said they would help me raise the baby, if that’s what I wanted.  I couldn’t do it though, I wasn’t ready to be a mom.”

“Swan-”

“Did you know that they handcuff you to the bed when you’re in custody of the state and in labor?” She plowed on, determined to finish, “Like I’d make a run for it while a human being came tearing out of me.  The cuffs were steel but it doesn’t sound as poetic.  I didn’t even hold him.  I knew I wouldn’t let him go if I did.”

She had managed to keep the tears that had gathered in her eyes from falling until that moment.  It was something she’d only admitted once before, to Mary Margaret on her son’s first birthday.  Before she could think to wipe the tears away Killian was doing so with a warm and gentle touch.

“You’re incredibly brave, Emma, did you know that?” He asked, his voice full of awe.

“I wasn’t ready to be a mom,” she repeated shakily, “I knew that giving him up was the best thing for the both of us.”

“Would you want to find him?  Now?”

She shook her head before his questions were finished, “I already did, or a private investigator did.  He’s happy with his adopted family, he’s got a brother and friends and a good life.  He doesn’t need me coming in and making a mess of it.”

“You wouldn’t make a mess of it,” Killian said vehemently.

“Yeah, I would,” she said patiently.  She gave him a sad smile, “Let’s for a second forget the fact that we’re sitting on the roof of a venue that in six hours will have forty-five hundred people waiting to hear me play.  Just the fact that his birth mom would come out of nowhere and decide to insert herself into his life is bad enough.  With all this shit on top of it?  No, he’s happy and that’s all I need to know.  If someday he decides to find me then I’ll be ready to be a part of his life, but only when he’s ready not before.

“Anyway-” she plowed on, “playing Bite of Iron brings all that shit up again.  It’s why I’ve never put it in the lineup before.”

“And then my ignorant ass goes and pushes you to do just that,” Killian spat out bitterly.

He pulled his arm out from under hers but she immediately grabbed his hand, unwilling to part with the comfort his touch had given her.

“It was more like a gentle nudge,” she said teasingly, glad to see his mouth tick up for a moment in amusement.  She sobered, “I wouldn’t have put it in if I didn’t want to play it.  It’s been eleven years and I can’t heal or whatever if I keep it all bottled up inside.  It actually hasn’t been that bad, playing it every night, today was just… a little too much with the constant interruptions and then having to half play it over and over.”

“Well, your diva fit was well justified, I’d say.”

She surprised herself with a burst of laughter.  Killian was clearly trying to lighten the mood, she could still see tension in the way he held his shoulders and the slight furrow of his brow, but he was making the effort for her.  The glowing warmth from earlier expanded and morphed into butterflies.  Leaning into him she pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, for helping me escape.”

Killian looked dumbfounded, his mouth dropped open in surprise.  She grinned at his stupor.  Rising to her feet she felt like she could play Bite of Iron twenty times in a row if he was the one listening, watching her with that same soft look on his face.  Just as she was about to say as much or something even more ridiculously sappy the door leading to the roof opened.

“Oh, thank God, you are up here!” Tink breathed out as soon as she caught sight of them, sounding immensely relieved. “Regina’s either going to murder you or make you pay out of pocket for the time she says you’ve wasted.  Why haven’t you answered your phone?”

“I-” Emma patted her back pocket and winced when she hit nothing but her ass, “Shit, I think I left it on the piano.”

“Do not tell Regina that,” Tink said horrified. “Tell her it died or spontaneously combusted or whatever, anything that will keep her from blowing another gasket.  She’s already muttering about breach of contract.”

“It’s only a breach of contract if I don’t play tonight, not the goddamn soundcheck from hell,” she rolled her eyes.

Killian stood and Emma winced again as Tink’s eyes widened as she noticed him.  Tink turned her bewildered gaze to her and Emma knew she would be facing a full inquisition at some point.  Not wanting to give away anything more than she already had she avoided both Tink and Killian’s gazes as she marched to the door.

“Come on, let’s get Regina’s tantrum and the rest of soundcheck out of the way and then go find some deep dish pizza.  My treat.”

As she stepped back into the air conditioned stairwell she breathed a sigh of relief that Tink had interrupted them when she did.  She wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for whatever leap she’d just taken when it came to Killian.  She also wasn’t entirely sure she shouldn’t have leaped further.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Starving Artists

Master List

Warnings: Mentions of suicidal ideation, alludes to sex, and swearing.

New York was always loud, always living up to its nickname. The city that never sleeps, Sungjin thinks as he meanders through the alley leading to his destination, but it’s always so quiet over here. The area he’s in is nothing like where he lives, here the gutters are littered with broken bottles and discarded newspapers flutter across the sidewalk like tumbleweeds. Here the buildings are brick and wooden, fire escapes creaky and used more as a place to smoke than to run, so unlike the pristine glass buildings Sungjin inhabits with his roommates. However, this part of Queens holds something Manhattan could never, here in the dark bars and the dimly lit doorways, are more musicians than Sungjin can count, and in the building in front of him, lives the best bassists he’s ever heard.

 Brian and his girlfriend Y/n live the way artists in movies do, the way Sungjin thinks they were destined to, in a studio apartment, in some dingy brick building, in nowhere Queens. Y/n is a barista by night and a painter by day, Brian plays in Sungjin’s band most nights and teaches people about music at some half-dead music shop. Sungjin liked to dream these two were living the perfect life for them, but he knew the reality, he knew their vices, the way they would smoke when they were stressed, the way she would crank the music up too loud in her headphones when she was focused on something, he knew how Brian liked to stand on the edges of tall buildings, just to feel the rush of almost dying. Sungjin knew they weren’t in great places, he knew they struggled more often than not, even though they would never ask him, or any of their friends, for help, that’s why he was here today, he had something, something for them that would change all of their lives. 

Their apartment was on the ninth floor, all the way at the top, and the only sound that echoed through the concrete and brick building was that of Sungjin’s sneakers as he jogged up each flight of stairs. Stopping in front of their door, Sungjin caught his breath, winded from the climb up. 

“Yo, Y/n, Brian, you guys awake?” He calls, rapping on the metal door. It quiet for a moment before he hears you answer him, beckoning him in. As normal, the spare key is hidden behind a loose brick and Sungjin lets himself into the flat. The door rolls closed behind him and he kicks off his shoes, setting the key down on the kitchen counter. He’s not surprised to find you in bed (which is actually just a mattress and box spring on the floor) flat on your back, probably just having woken up. “Hey, where’s Brian.” 

“You know he hates being called that.” You laugh, tucking one of your arms under your head to see him better. “And you just missed him, he went up on the roof.” Sungjin huffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah okay. When you see him again, tell him we’re having a band meeting at Lucky’s. You work tonight, right?” You nod in confirmation and Sungjin copies you. “Okay great, be there at 3, it's important.” He rolls his eyes at your salute but turns to leave anyway. “Bye Brian, see you at three.” 

“Bye Sungjin.” The voice from under the blanket calls. 

Once the door rolls closed you throw the blanket off your boyfriend, whose face is now tinted pink and pressed into your bare thigh. 

“Why are you like this?” You whine, and he responds by pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, “You absolute exhibitionist.” His laugh shakes through your body and he finally looks up at you, a cheeky grin on his lips. 

“In my defense, I was kinda in the middle of something when he knocked.” Brian reminds you, nipping at your leg, making you let out a squeak. 

“The logical response is usually stopping, or telling him to fuck off.” You counter, and Brian only shakes his head, crawling up your body, only stopping when his hands are next to your head, his head hovering only inches above yours. 

“Admit that you liked it.” His voice is slightly deeper now, and he can’t stop his eyes from roaming from yours, down to your lips. 

“You liked it more.” You answer and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. 

“Maybe, maybe I want Sungjin to catch us.” He drops his head down, pressing kisses into your neck, “Maybe I like the way you react.” His leg hitches up further between yours and you bite back a moan. “Maybe I think, you want to get caught too.” You don’t actually have functioning words, too lost in the way his lips feel against your neck, so instead, you only groan. “What time is it?” You shift your head sideways, picking up the phone that lay discarded on the bed, he picks his head up from your neck to read the time displayed:

11:21 am

“We’ve got time.” You shrug, dropping the phone and pulling Brian’s lips to yours. 

~~

You walk into the cafe with exactly 2 minutes to spare and are not even slightly shocked to find that Jae is running late. Sungjin gives you a smirk as you take your seats at the table in the back corner. 

“Good morning.” Dowoon greets happily, “I bought you coffee and a muffin.” He slides the two over to you, with a grin on his face. “Did you get me anything?” Brian asks and Dowoon makes a face at his elder, shaking his head. 

“We can share, besides, I get plenty of muffins during my shift anyway.” You move the treats in between you and your boyfriend, “Thank you Dowoonie.” 

“So, Y/n,” Sungjin begins, and you prepare for the worst, “What’s Brian’s head game like?” Wonpil chokes on his drink, and you hear Jae from behind you say:

“Bet its weak.” 

“We aren’t talking about yours.” Brian retorts immediately. 

“Hey, I happen to be fantastic at giving head.” Jae defends, dropping his bag next to you and taking the empty seat on your other side. 

“Boys or girls?” Dowoon asks, cheeky grin on his face. 

“Yes.” Jae answers, "Care to test my skills?" He throws the younger boy a wink, and Dowoon stares at him silently for a moment before fake vomiting onto the table, and the others erupt in laughter. 

“I don’t know Jae, it was pretty bad in high school.” You comment, sipping your drink innocently. Jae gasps dramatically. 

“I was just an inexperienced young lad.” He replies, hand over his chest in mock hurt. 

“What ass are you eating to be getting any better?” Wonpil asks, making Sungjin choke on his coffee in shock. 

“Hey, I ain’t eating no ass.” Jae defends, “Unless it’s Brian’s.” His flirty remark is met with Brian pretending to vomit onto the floor. 

“I’m sorry, can we go back to the part about Jae and Y/n in high school?” Dowoon asked, “Cause I was in high school with you, I have no recollection of you two being together, together, you always insisted you were just friends.” 

“Oh cause we weren’t” You shrug, “We had sex, like once, maybe twice, then he got super shy and didn't speak to me for almost a year.” 

“You were like, the hottest girl in school, and I was this dorky nobody. I panicked.” Jae pipes in, “ You literally wore leather to school on the regular, and I once wore the same outfit for a week and no one noticed.” 

“You’re gross.” Brian comments. “Also unrelated note, do you still have any of those leather outfits, babe?” “I would but they’re probably at my parents if they kept anything after I left.” 

“It would be a shame to get rid of those outfits, like the one pair of leather pants with the studs up the sides.” Jae recalls, “Those were sexy.” 

“Thanks, Jae, I’m glad you thought I was sexy in high school.” 

“Hey, that’s not to say you aren’t sexy now.” 

“Oh my god, Y/n, you’re literally the Eagle 2 meme.” Wonpil cuts through Jae’s attempts at redeeming himself. You can’t help but laugh at your younger friend’s words, realizing he’s right. 

“What’s the Eagle 2 meme?” Sungjin asks. 

“It's from either Parks and Rec, or the Office,” You begin "and it goes something like this.” You sit up a little straighter. “From now on we will be using code names, you may address me as Eagle 1, Jae will be ‘been there done that’, Brian is ‘currently doing that’ Wonpil is ‘It happened once in a dream’, Dowoon is ‘If I had to pick a makinae’ and Sungjin is,” You pause for dramatic effect, “Eagle 2.” 

“Oh thank god.” Sungjin’s sigh of relief is met with a chorus of laughter. 

“So are we done talking about my girlfriend’s sex life?” Brian asks, tapping his fingers on the table, a nervous habit he picked up from you, “Cause we both have work tonight, and I gotta be there by 5.” You can tell he’s upset by the conversation, but all you can do at the moment is lace your fingers into his, and offer him a smile. 

“Oh right,” Sungjin snaps his fingers, pulling a flyer from his back pocket. “There’s a battle of the bands in Central Park next month, the winner gets an exclusive deal with JYP Entertainment.” 

“You want to sign up?” Jae asks, reading over the flyer intently, with you peeking over his shoulder. 

“Winner claims an exclusive spot on JYPE artist roster and a confirmed year-long contract. Further prizes pending. Runner ups get 50,000 dollars. Two runners up prizes available” You read aloud, “That's fucking amazing, even if you don’t win, you’d still get some mad money.” 

“That’s only if we get a runner up spot.” Wonpil reminds you. 

“Pillie, you guys are so good, I would be shocked if they didn’t refer you directly to JYP himself after your audition.”

“When’s the audition?” Brian asks, accepting the flyer from Jae. “Its next week, but we don’t have any experience playing live unless you count those little sessions at work.” 

“You guys could probably play here, we sometimes have bands come in to perform on Fridays, and I don’t think we have anyone set for this week.” You offered. 

“Well, what does everyone think?” Sungjin prompts, looking to the younger band members. Dowoon and Wonpil exchange a glance before they both nod. 

“It sounds like a good plan boss,” Dowoon chimes in, flashing everyone a thumbs up. 

“Great.” Sungjin nods, turning back to you. “Could you ask your boss?” You salute him for the second time today, before leaning forward to talk to someone seated at another table. 

“Miyoko, do we have anyone coming in to perform Friday?” Your boss glances up from her phone, thinking for a second before shaking her head. “Cool, can my boyfriend’s band play?” 

“Sure, what’s the name?” All eyes fall to Sungjin, as the realization that none of you had ever figured that part out hits. 

“Day6.” 

~~

It isn’t long before the band members have to leave, Wonpil and Dowoon having classes to attend, Jae being forced to attend his dad’s company get together, and Sungjin scurrying back to his apartment to get everything prepped for the performance. Soon enough, it's time for Brian to leave as well. 

“Do you want me to pick you up tonight?” He asks, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“No its okay, I’m not getting off till 1 am anyway, you should go home and sleep.” You smiled up at him, pulling him down to your height for a kiss. 

“Okay, see you when you get home.” He kisses you once more before he’s walking away, stuffing his headphones in his ears. You know something’s wrong, and you know it's going to bother you all day.

And you’re right, most of the day, well night, is filled with you wondering if Brian was okay. When 1 am rolls around, you're tired, but you walk as quick as your legs will take you to get home. No one bothers you, not even the homeless men or junkies on the streets, most of them know you anyway. 

“Good morning, Y/n.” A familiar voice greets you as you turn down the alley to your building’s back door. 

“Good morning, Bear.” You greet the looming man. 

“You heading home?” He asks, not moving from his spot as you make your way further into the darkness. 

“Yes sir,”

“Anyone bother you?”

“Not tonight, sweetie.” You yank open the door, and he lifts his hand in goodbye.

“Sleep well, little one.” 

“Find somewhere warm, Bear, I hear we’re due for a storm soon.” 

“Don’t worry about me.” You wave to him once more, before entering the dark building. You’re not shocked that the elevator isn’t working, but still grumble your way all the way up the stairs. Your apartment is quiet, so you creep in, taking care to not let the door creak as it slides closed. Your shoes are discarded at the door and you tiptoe through the apartment, trying to create as little noise as possible, although you know your boyfriend could sleep through a hurricane if he so chose. However, to your shock, the apartment appears to be empty, no lights are on and your bed is free of a Brian sized lump.

“Babe?” You call, dropping your bag on the floor by the bed. Flicking on the lamp on the bedside table, you wonder how long your boyfriend hasn’t been home, though your suspicions as to his whereabouts are confirmed when you glance to the side to find the window to the fire escape open. 

Brian liked to be on the roof, even though he wasn’t supposed to be up there, something about always being able to hear music on the wind. He was sitting on a small ledge, an old garden box someone was growing weed in, with his back to you, his hair whipping in the wind. 

“Babe?” Your voice doesn’t seem to reach him, and as much as you hate it, you join him fully on the roof. “Baby?” He starts, turning to you abruptly. 

“What are you doing up here without a jacket?” He asks, opening his jacket and motioning for you to sit on his lap. You oblige, perching on one of his legs and wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders. His arms, and a good portion of his jacket, wrap around your torso, protecting you from the biting wind. 

“Why are you still awake?” He doesn’t seem to hear you, instead pressing his face into your collarbone, “Hey, talk to me, something’s been eating you since lunch.” One of your hands moves to cup his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. 

“Nothing’s wrong babe, I was just thinking, didn’t realize how late it had gotten.” You knew he was lying, and instead of moving, you stared down at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Babe, I love you, and I have for a few years now, which means I know when you’re lying to me.” He shook his head, as well as he could with his face still in your hand. 

“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Let’s just go to bed.” He tried to stand but quickly realized you weren’t moving. “Babe.” 

“Babe me all you want, Younghyun.” He flinched slightly at your use of his real name. “I sleep literally inches away from you, sometimes less, if you try to go to sleep right now it’s just going to keep us both awake.” He stared at you for a moment before finally relenting under your gaze. 

“I just, at lunch, when you were talking about high school with Jae and Dowoon, how could you possibly be happy the way we are?” 

“What do you mean?” He sighed again, gaze dropping to your legs. 

“Back in high school, you were popular, you had your family, you were with someone like Jae, the son of a very rich man, he could have given you the perfect life.”

“Is this about me and Jae? Cause aside from the two times we slept together, we were never a thing.” 

“This is about the fact that we live in a shitty apartment, we barely make rent some months, there’s a rat the size of a fucking cat that lives with us, and you’re stuck here. You could have been something by now, you could have been living a comfy life, rolling in money, surrounded by your friends and family, not stuck out here in Queens, with someone like me.” He finished his rant quietly, and your heart broke at his words. 

“I don’t care about the size of our apartment, and I’m not stuck here.” You explained. “Babe, look at me.” His gaze remained on your legs, “Younghyun, please?” Slowly, with the help of your fingers on his chin, he finally locked eyes with you. “I don’t care about my status, I would rather be a nobody in a trashy apartment with you, than in some fancy apartment building, staring down at the people below, completely alone. Before you, and before Sungjin and Dowoon and Wonpil, I had one friend I knew was real. Everyone else only wanted to be around me because my parents were literally worth twice what theirs were. Jae was my only friend, and for a while, I didn’t even have him. And you know what, just after high school, when Jae was still debating going to college, I had made up my mind. I was going to get a major degree, then I was gonna move somewhere away from my parents” You couldn’t help but smile as the memories caught up with you. “One night, after I finally got rid of the last of my fake friends, I am sitting on Jae’s couch, drinking shitty beer and watching reruns of Parks and Rec, when someone knocks on the door. I don’t think the person on the other side was expecting to find a girl in her undies answering Jae’s door, and lord knows I wasn’t expecting to find an incredibly handsome man, with two suitcases standing outside. But let me tell you something. That man changed my life, he showed me what it meant to live, to be free, to love with my whole heart.” You bring your hand up through Brian’s hair. “I don’t care where I am, as long as I am with him, with you, I’m where I’m supposed to be.” You were both quiet for a moment before Brian's hands were pulling you closer, and he was pressing kisses to your jaw. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He murmured between kisses and you can’t help but giggle. 

“All the right things” You offered, “Now come on, let’s go back to our shitty apartment, and Jervis, and all the things that make living with you fun.”

“Jervis?”

“The rat.”

[tommyhardyx]

Mr Solomons - Part 2

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Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Not able to get Alfie out of your head after meeting with him, you find an excuse to see him again.  Warnings: swearing A/N: And I’m back with part two! I’m BLOWN AWAY by the response part one got and to thank you for it I’ve done my best to get part two done as quickly as possible for you! Also, thank you to @acciostilinski for proofreading and helping me when I was stuck and @justanothershelby for putting up with me talking about this au all the time. Once again I hope you like it and please consider leaving a comment if you enjoy it.

Settled into the couch fluffy blanket tucked around your body, laptop on your lap and a warm mug of hot chocolate in your hand you’re hard at work on your profile on Alfie. With Nancy out on a date with her girlfriend, it’s a perfect time to get lost in your work.

The first draft came together so easily, the words flowing out of you at a speed you wish you could bottle for the days when you can’t find the right words. Now you work back through the piece, perfecting each line and paragraph as you find the right words to describe Alfie.

This morning you’d been sent the photos the magazine’s photographer had taken of Alfie, and it just so happens that Nancy walks through the front door while you’re staring at one of the photos, his eyes just as intense and striking in a photo as they are in real life.

“Oh look at me I’m y/n and I definitely don’t fancy the man I’m doing a profile on even though I’m working on it even when I’m at home and don’t need to be working on it.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring Nancy’s mocking words as you minimise the photo, switching back to the document you’d been writing in. Despite your worries you wouldn’t be able to capture him in his entirety you’re not finding it quite as hard as you would have expected.

“I just want to get this done,” you mutter, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to decide whether you like your wording for one paragraph in particular.

“It’s 10:30 at night and you’re still working on this, that’s not ‘I want to get this done’ that’s ‘I can’t stop thinking about him and working on this gives me an excuse to’. I’ve never seen you this into your work, gotta be a reason for that.”

“Oh, shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

Nancy grins as she leans on the back of the couch beside you, the smug look on her face making you determined not to give in and look at her as she rests her chin in her hands. You can feel her presence close to the side of your face,

“Have you figured out an excuse to go see him again yet?”

“I have a few more questions I want to ask him, I think they’ll really round out the piece.”

“You have his phone number, right? You can just call him,” Nancy points out.

“I’d rather ask him in person,”

“Of course, you would.”

You catch a glimpse of Nancy’s satisfied grin out the corner of your eye, and you settle your headphones over your ears, blocking out any further taunts as you force your focus back to the man in question.

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

Stepping out of the car out the front of Solomon’s Distillery once again you feel the butterflies fluttering around your stomach at just the thought of seeing Alfie once more.

Your first meeting with the man had gone so well, your time with him feeling more comfortable than any other person you’d interviewed before and if you were being honest with yourself, you were sure the connection between the two of you was something he’d felt as well.

Inside the distillery, you run into Ollie who looks at you wearily before pointing you once again in the direction of Alfie’s office, not that you need to be reminded how to get there.

“Hello again Alfie,” you say as you step through the door, the smile on your face slowly turning to a frown when you notice the cane leaning against his desk.

Alfie follows your line of sight, stiffening when he realises what you’re looking at. His entire demeanour changing as you slip into the chair opposite his desk. Despite only spending a few hours with him, it seems odd not to see Cyril curled up in the dog bed beside the desk.

“What’re you doin’ here?”

“I just have a few more questions for you.”

“Seems like a waste of time could have called me.”

The charming, funny man you had met only days before is gone replaced with one who is grouchy, snapping at you for no reason as he stares you down.

“It’s really no trouble, I prefer working in person anyway,” you explain.

“Well get to it then, don’t have all fucking day.”

Your mouth drops open, the change in him from only a few days before so drastic the butterflies that had filled your stomach just moments before had died, replaced with a feeling of dread and shame.

“Well, I apologise for taking up these few precious minutes of your day. You can just email me your answers,” you mutter, jotting down your email address on the piece of paper with your questions, tearing it off your notebook and dropping it off the desk.

“Y/n I-”

“Goodbye, Mr Solomons.”

Shaking your head, you stalk out of the room not giving him the satisfaction of looking back. You really had thought there was something between you, that maybe he’d felt the same thing you’d felt when you spent those first hours together. But of course, you were wrong, you thought too much of yourself and again you were disappointed.

“Y/n, wait up!” Ollie calls as he jogs down the corridor to catch up with you, a hand resting on your shoulder to stop you in your tracks. “Don’t take it personally, Alfie he gets like that when his back is bad enough he needs to use the cane; he’s embarrassed.”

You glance back down the corridor in the direction of Alfie’s office, the glare Alfie had given you burned into your brain.

“You just caught him on a bad day.”

“I have to go, goodbye Ollie,” you tell him.

Ollie sighs as he watches you stalk back down the corridor, throwing a glare over his shoulder as Alfie comes to stand in the door to his office, leaning heavily on his cane.

“You don’t always have to be such a prick Alfie,” Ollie mutters as he walks away.

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

The cold wind bites at your skin as you step into the dog park, nerves of a much different kind twisting in your stomach as you spot Alfie standing with his back to you. The park is busy, dogs of all sizes running around while their owners watch some standing in groups and others, like Alfie, standing alone.

The email had come through late last night, long answers to the questions that were just an excuse to see him, along with a question of his own asking you to meet him here this morning. Part of you wanted to say no, to tell him you were too busy for it. But you couldn’t get Ollie’s words out of your head, his assurance that Alfie’s rudeness wasn’t personal the only reason you agree to meet.

“Alfie,” you call, gaining the man’s attention as you cross the space between you.

No cane in sight, Alfie looks much more relaxed than the last time you saw him a small, almost shy smile growing on his face as he spots you. As you come to stand by his side he holds out a cup of coffee to you.

“Didn’t know how you take it so I just got a latte, seemed like a safe choice. Grabbed these as well,” he explains, pulling out a handful of sugar packets from his pocket.

“Oh, thank you. You really didn’t have to,” you tell him as you accept the coffee and the sugar, stuffing the multitude of packets into your pocket.

“I did though, I did. I was an arse to you last time we spoke, figured that might make up for it,” he explains, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

“It’s okay, Ollie explained why you were…”

“In such a bad mood?”

“I was going to say cranky but that works too,” you tease.

Alfie laughs a warm sound that settles the nerves in your stomach instantly setting you at ease glad to know you can tease him without snapping at you.

“Ollie said you don’t like using the cane, you’re embarrassed by it.”

“Yeah, makes me feel real fucking old when I use it. I only use it if I can’t fucking move the pain’s so bad,” he explains.

Alfie keeps his eyes focused on Cyril, who is happily chasing a dog half his size around the other side of the park.

“You know, I thought your first question was going to be asking me about why I punched Sabini last month. Still fucking shocked you haven’t brought it up,” he admits.

“I was going to, but once I met you I realised there are more important things to write about you.”

“Sabini and I, we’ve known each other since we were kids, yeah, and we’ve never gotten along. It’s cause I’m a Jew, he doesn’t like Jews,” he explains, and while his tone is light you notice the way his jaw clenches.

“He sounds charming,” you mutter, earning another laugh out of Alfie.

“We were having a meeting, he made a fucking filthy comment about Ollie’s wife and I couldn’t help myself, didn’t want Ollie to do something he’d regret. It was just as satisfying as I always thought it would be. You can include this in your article if you want.”

“I think I’ve got everything I need.”

Alfie looks as if he’s going to speak but just as he opens his mouth Cyril comes running over, the huge dog’s speed and weight almost knocking Alfie down when he jumps up on his owner, his massive paws resting on Alfie’s stomach. Alfie stumbles, laughing as he quickly finds stable footing, hands immediately reaching to pet the large animal.

“Fucking hell mate, you trying to trample me aye?” he says.

His face lights up at the mere sight of Cyril, the dog setting the man at ease as he manages to get him back onto four legs, squatting down to his level.

“I found Cyril as a pup, sniffing around near the distillery. Someone had fucking dumped him there. How anyone could just fucking leave this guy somewhere I don’t know,” Alfie explains, his attention stays on the dog.  “It was only a year ago, can you fucking believe he’s still a puppy?”

You look at the overgrown dog, the one that could easily knock down a man even as big as Alfie and shake your head.

“Could carry him in one hand when I first found him, now I can barely fucking lift him.”

This is a side of Alfie you glimpsed only briefly the other day, the soft smile he seems to reserve only for his dog spreading across his face as he looks up at you.

This morning when you left the house you had still felt resentment towards him from when he’d barked at you in his office, and all it took to change your mind was half an hour and watching him with his dog, the nervous excitement of being this close to him already returning.

Tags: @eap1935 / @coolmaybelateruniverse /  @sandyddt / @inkededucatednnerdy / @ravendor28 / @thisisjeany/  @overitall2018 / @outofbluecomesgreen / @mollybegger-blog 

[justbtsstuffsforfun]

Home

Genre:Fluff, 0.1% angst

Word Count: 7145

Pairing: Taejin (Taehyung x Jin)

Summary: Taehyung and Jin meet each other after two years, making themselves feel like they’re back home.

21 months without seeing him was hard. Extremely hard. Taehyung covered his face with his fluffy white pillow, thinking about Seokjin. How would he look? Would his shoulders be broader than before?

He turned towards the right to get a quick glance of the time. He has a photo shoot with Gucci at 7. And then a six-month contract agreement meeting with some French perfume company. He did feel a bit guilty about not being able to remember the company name, but isn’t that why famous models like him have assistants? Nevertheless, knowing that he has more than two hours at hand before his schedule begins, Taehyung decided to remain where he was.  Good thing he went to bed at 8 last night.

“When are you coming, my love?” he thought out loud, scrunching his face up in disappointment. Seokjin was definitely not Taehyung’s type in the beginning. Well…to be more precise, he never expected himself to be interested in men.

Taehyung decided to get nostalgic. He quickly turned to face his newly painted baby blue ceiling.

                        The first meeting was weird (unlike dramas). Taehyung was a nervous alien in that room. The leader and the director had informed him beforehand that he would be meeting the other members.

“What should I do till then?” Taehyung asked, confused and worried.

“Anything you want. Dance, sing or even sit in that corner and read” Namjoon, the leader, politely replied. “Don’t worry a lot, the others are pretty chill.”

After the leader left, Taehyung switched on the stereo, threw his red jacket on the sofa and decided to go with the beats. At one point he got so engrossed in the music that he completely forgot his place and position. And that’s when he met Jin.

“Hi, you must be the new mem-”

"Dance with me."

Even before the guy could reply, Taehyung pulled him to dance with him. Well...technically he thrust his hips on Jin.

“Yah! What in the world are you up to?” The newcomer, completely flustered, asked.

“Don’t you want to dance with me?” Taehyung asked him, a bit hurt. He was unaware of how his action had affected the older man.

“Can’t. Was street-casted for my pretty face, so I just started learning how to”  the newcomer replied, ignoring Taehyung’s actions.

“Kim Seokjin." The man held his hand out. "What’s yours?”

“Kim Taehyung. Nice to meet you, visual partner! How old are you?”

“19”

“Whoa! Hyung, I’m 16. How do you look so young?”

“That’s my face,” Jin smirked, rubbing his chin.

“Wow,” Taehyung exclaimed and suddenly pulled Jin’s cheeks. He generally didn’t mind doing things like this cause he used to be a part of a circle where physical contact was considered normal. But for Jin, it was something new. Of course, he knew who he was from the beginning and embraced it pretty well. But being a bit conservative, accepting actions like this seemed a bit hard.

“Don’t- Not my face!” He let out a startled shout. Taehyung noticed Jin’s ears turning red. “Hyung, why is your ear red? It makes you look weird!” He gave a quick laugh and moved his hand towards Seokjin’s ear. Before he could touch it, the latter pulled back. “Sto-Stop! Don’t be so weird” he replied, shocked by Taehyung’s action.  And with that the older man walked out of the room, his heart pounding in his chest like never before.

Taehyung was a bit flustered too, yes, but well…he was dumb at that time. Dumb enough not to understand what he felt.

“Ahh!! Seokjin-ah, when are you coming back?!”  Taehyung whined in his empty room, which was now slowly filling up with light.

Eventually, the two of them realized that they have a lot in common. They soon started spending nights talking about their favorite anime, k-dramas, movies, etc.  

It was one tiring, clumsy night for the entire team. And this 17-year-old kid decided to relax by watching Reply 1994.

“You watch this too?” Seokjin asked, troubling the poor boy right in the middle of the climax.

“Yeah hyung, it’s too good, isn’t it?”

“Can’t deny that! Here, let me watch with you.”

Seokjin quickly jumped down from his bunk and went up to Tae’s. They tried to cover themselves with a single blanket. Unfortunately, Jin's shoulders being crazy huge, made it a bit hard for the two of them to fit in. So Jin did the one thing he could think of at that time: make Taehyung sit on his lap. 

But little did he know how Taehyung felt at that point. To his own surprise, Taehyung’s heart was thumping so fast that he was scared that Seokjin would be able to hear it. Jin was, after all, trying to have fun with him. And here his heart was going crazy. What was wrong with him?

And it started getting more intense after that. During the debut days, when he and Seokjin would do vlogs together, Taehyung’s feelings would make him giddy. Whenever Jin kept his hand on Tae's shoulder or chin, he would become so nervous that he kinda starts acting hyper, weirding out Jin in the process. Sometimes, things would become so complicated that they would awkwardly end their vlogs.

                       The phone rang. Taehyung was pretty sure that it was his assistant. And it was.

“YOU LITERALLY HAVE AN HOUR BEFORE THE PHOTOSHOOT!! AN HOUR!”  She exploded from the other side.

“Ahh…chill Sun-ssi, I’m almost done dressing up!” Taehyung shamelessly lied, jumping out of his bed. He quickly ran to his closet and started pulling out random dresses.

“Hurry up Taehyung-ssi! I’ll be there in 5.” Sun quickly cut the phone, even before Taehyung could oppose.

“And I’m screwed.” With that, Taehyung ran to the washroom forgetting about Seokjin for a while.

Taehyung quickly took a hot shower, not giving himself a chance to enjoy the heat. He then ran half-naked to his messy living room in search of the hair dryer, only to realize that it was in his room.

“God, please make sure Sun is late. She’ll kill me if she sees me like this!” Taehyung prayed, quickly putting on a red Gucci shirt.

Lucky for him, Sun was 5 minutes late. However, she didn’t lose her opportunity of scolding Taehyung, much to his dismay.

“Mr. Kim, can you please put on some make-up?  At least, look good while meeting the stylist!”

“ Noona, they would anyways remove it.” Taehyung huffed, wiping his hair with the towel to dry off the remaining water.

“Uff!  Taehyung, at least color your hair for tomorrow’s shoot! The purple is fading!” Sun replied, noticing the messy condition of his hair. She quickly opened the door for him once they reached the entrance of the building.

“Changing it to black, so don’t worry!” Taehyung replied, getting into the car waiting for him. Sun gave him a worried glance and quickly joined him.

Kim Taehyung, according to her, was a great man. In her 5 years as an assistant for various models, she has never seen someone so beautiful and committed. He was a man who could simply kill anyone with his looks and also melt people’s heart with his puppy-like personality. Gucci made the right choice of picking this man 2 years back when BTS went on a hiatus.

But, there were a few things that still troubled her. Like the dreamy look on his face every time someone left him alone. The way he kept searching or expecting for someone to appear. And much more.

Taehyung was not short of love. She loves him. His friends love him. His co-workers, stylists everyone loves him. He spends every weekend with the other BTS members… recently he had a night out with them to wish Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon best of luck for their military enlistment. He himself would be enlisting next year with Jimin and Jungkook.

“What are you staring at noona?” Taehyung asked, chuckling at the way Sun’s mouth was open.

“N-nothing!” She could feel the heat rising up her cheeks.

“Ah...don't lie. You didn’t even notice me picking up your phone from your lap. And your mouth was wide open.” He quickly handed over the phone, with the boxy smile on his face.

“Don’t talk like you don’t dream!" Sun replied with a pout.

After a minute of silence, Sun asked him the question that had been bothering her for quite a long time.

"Taehyung-ssi, can I ask you something?"

“Please, drop that ‘ssi’. I’m younger than you noona.”

“Fine. Are you dating someone? Because sometimes, it looks like you are searching or waiting for someone to come and meet you during your shoots.”

Taehyung did a double take at that question. Everyone at the workplace talked about their dates, girlfriends and all, except him.

“Well, I’m not interested in girls.” Taehyung carefully replied, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the question. He knew he would soon get a chance to tell the world about his love for Jin. But, he has to wait for a while.

It was a fine night when he realized his feelings for Jin. All he felt at that time was horror and disgust. What would Jin think of him? Would they stop going out for dinner together? Would he completely ignore him? But in addition to all this, a sense of self-disgust started enveloping him. There were nights where he would silently breakdown in the bathroom, blaming himself for being a disgrace, a disappointment to everyone he loved.

What would his parents do with him? Would they suffer from shame too, because of him?

And then Bangtan. They had just started making progress. What would happen if someone finds out? Would he be the demise of his members’ dreams?

“Taehyung? What-wait, why are you crying?” Jimin caught him one night sitting and crying in the tub.

“I’m sorry” Taehyung kept uttering out those words in the middle of his sobs. Jimin didn’t understand what had gone wrong. Taehyung was never like this. Of course, his friend was weird, but no one has a problem with that. In fact, people love that side of him.

“Taehyung-ah, tell me. Please?” Jimin asked. He couldn’t bear to see his best friend cry. He had never seen him cry like this.

“I-I like Jin hyung.”

Jimin froze on spot. “H-how long?” his voice shook, in surprise.

“Too long. Hate me as much as you want.” Taehyung controlled his tears for a moment to look at Jimin’s face. The sight baffled him.

“Why?” Taehyung asked, seeing the tears fall from Jimin’s eye. Shouldn’t he be disgusted with him?

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help you earlier.” Jimin hugged the younger boy and started sobbing with him. It was too much for someone to deal with something like this alone. Why didn’t he realize sooner? Wasn’t it obvious by the way Taehyung always looked at Jin? His best friend had been with him for so long, helped him fit in at school, made him part of Bangtan and yet, he let him suffer like this alone. It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault for being who he was. He cursed himself for not giving Taehyung a place to talk about how he felt.

“Talk to me okay? We’ll cry together and find solutions for it” Jimin smiled, his teary-eyes almost invisible in the dark. The smile of acceptance, that Taehyung wanted to see the most.    

“Noona wants to ask me out?” Taehyung asked with a playful smile on his face.

“I’m married,” Sun replied, already used to the kid’s antics.

 Yes, he likes peaceful environments. But, never once has he hated Seoul for being noisy, dirty and dusty. Well, until today.

Jin sat in the corner of the bus, praying that no one notices him. The last thing he wants right now is to people take photographs of him and ruin his ideas.

“Excuse me, sir, Could you shift inside?” a girl with blond hair asked. Seokjin freaked out.

“Go-uhh…yes.” He moved to the corner, carefully eyeing the girl. The Cooky keychain hanging from her backpack was enough proof that she could identify him. So, why hasn’t she?

A number of weird thoughts started eating him up. His stomach did a double take with every new question that was popping up in his head. Does he look that different? Does he look so old? Has BTS lost its popularity? Will Taehyung and the others recognize him?!

“Um…Jin-ssi” the girl whispered, bringing Jin back to earth. Poor guy was now completely confused.

“I won’t tell anyone. Promise” She held out her pinky. The man’s muscle relaxed.

“I still look the same right?” Jin asked, making the blondie giggle.

“Yes yes. You haven’t aged a bit! When did u come back?”

“Today. Please don’t post anywhere. At least till I tweet.”

“Sure. Oppa looks good with short black hair.”

“I know”

Jin politely thanked the girl for not screaming once he reached his destination. And thanked God for not ruining his plan. Upon arrival, a known face with dirty blond hair walked towards him to give him a big hug.

“Hyung!” Jimin replied, hugging Jin from the back. He never really expected himself to be the first member to meet Jin.

“Ah…Jimin-ah, don’t scare me like that. You know the scardy-cat I am!”

“You haven’t changed a bit!” Jimin laughed wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Yah! Just because I said I’m still scared doesn’t mean I haven’t changed!” Jin pouted. “Now, come and help me.”

Hadn’t it been for Jimin and Namjoon’s help, Jin would’ve never got a chance to confess his feelings to Tae. He had talked to Namjoon in cafes about a lot of sensitive stuffs. The fact that he wasn’t straight. In fact, Namjoon was one of the first to accept Jin for who he was. So Jin decided to ask his opinion once he was sure of what he felt.

“Namjoon. How do I even control the way I feel about him? You know, my ears keep turning red every time he does something unintentionally. That poor kid has no idea about the effect he has on me!!”

“Hyung, are you blind? He clearly has feelings for you.”

“Yah! Don’t raise my hopes up like that. How can you assume that he likes me just after that one incident I told you about, huh?! Don’t you think it’s a bit too much?” Jin pouted.

“One incident? Hyung, the two of you go out alone to eat. Sleep together every now and then. And have you ever seen the way he gets flustered around you?! He HUGGED Jungkook after seeing you hug me! WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU WANT?!” Namjoon broke his pen, accidentally hitting it with his fist while lecturing the older.

Jin secretly hoped that Namjoon was right. He wanted it to be true.

That night, Jin was getting ready for bed. He was in the middle of his routine night shower, thinking of ways to make Jungkook feel more comfortable in their presence. That’s when someone knocked at the door.

“Hyung!” Taehyung called out.

Jin could feel his ears turn red. What’s he doing here now? What’s his problem?!

“Yeah? Is everything okay Tae? Just gimme a few minutes. I’ll come out and-“

“Hyung, can we take a bath together?”

Shit, what is going on? Jin was completely flustered at the request. A mixed sense of embarrassment and happiness started pooling within him. His was pretty sure that his heart would burst at any moment, judging by the speed it was beating.

“What?” Jin asked, trying to keep his tone under control.

“Can we take a b-bath t-together?” Taehyung asked waiting near the entrance, closing eyes. Jin couldn’t help but notice Tae shaking in fear and embarrassment. Jin couldn’t help but smile. Namjoon was right after all. “How about we go out and have ice cream together. I’ll treat you with something expensive.”

“So no bath?” Taehyung asked, his face falling in disappointment.

“I didn’t say no, did I?” Jin replied, smirking at Taehyung. “Get in before I change my mind.”

“Perfect!” The cameraman gave a thumbs-up, assuring Taehyung. “Next shoot is on Monday. I have given Mrs. Lee your details.”

“We’re having a celebration tonight! Join us Taehyung!!” Solbin, Taehyung’s partner asked, pulling the hem of his shirt.

“Thanks for the offer Solbin, but I’ll pass. Got another contract to sign.” Taehyung replied.

“Mr. Kim, we literally have 20 minutes for the sign-up! Hurry now!!” Sun called out from the other side of the hall.

“Ah, later then, busy man.” Solbin waved and walked off.

 “SIXTEEN CALLS!? Jimin I told you I would have a photoshoot today. Couldn’t you wait for a while?!” Taehyung sighed, sitting on the stool and waiting for the stylists to get him ready.

“Aish, it’s just a photoshoot. Something we’ve been doing for the past 8 years.” Jimin replied, annoyed at the way Taehyung was acting.

“So what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, checking his watch. His stylists were definitely running late this time.

“You know today’s a Thursday right?”

“Yeah, what about it? Wait, shit, I’m so so-“

“Screw you.” Jimin cut him off. “Jungkook and I are going out somewhere.”

“Somewhere or to his house?” Taehyung teased him.

“Don’t forget that you’re as straight as a circle. Have fun drinking alone.” Jimin quickly cut the phone before Taehyung could apologize. He definitely has to buy him a drink now, to bring things back to normal.

“How did it go?” Jungkook called out from his studio.

“So far fine. Let’s just hope it works out.”

Taehyung didn’t expect Jimin to blow up like that. What’s gotten into him? He was fine with it when the whole world shipped him with Jungkook. So why is he trying to act so bothered? What is his problem? Jimin should understand how busy Taehyung could get at times. It doesn’t mean that his friends have lost priority.  

“Mr. Kim, please remove your bracelets. It doesn’t match with your outfit.” The stylist called out

“Uhh…yeah, will do right away.” He carefully removed each one of them and put it in his bag.

“Umm…Mr. Kim, even this one.”  The stylist asked pointing at the thin, white gold bracelet with interlocked rings.

“Sorry, I don’t want to. It means the world to me.” Taehyung smiled and continued to focus on his phone.

  “Are we done for today?” Taehyung asked his assistant, removing the excess make up from his face while sitting in the car. He kinda finds it annoying when it starts dripping down in the heat.

“Yes, Taehyung. You have any personal plans?” Sun asked, arranging files in order.

“Had. Drop me at home please?” Taehyung replied, disappointment popping up in his tone.

“Everything alright? You sound upset Taehyung?”

“Not exactly noona. Jimin’s pissed at me for forgetting tonight. I didn’t mean that to happen you know? And plus I’m exhausted. Eating ramen at home would be nice” Taehyung answered, giving Lee Sun a reassuring smile.

“Fine, you can get down right here. We’re just two minutes away from your apartment” Sun replied, asking the chauffeur to stop. She quickly handed him a black mask and opened the door. “Walking might help you clear your mind.”

Taehyung walked along the pathway admiring the forest, something he rarely does due to his hectic schedule. Nevertheless, it definitely brought back memories.

“Hyung, are you sure about this?” Taehyung asked, trying to catch up with the older man. What if someone caught them together?

“Relax Tae, we could just tell them that we were going on a morning walk. And seriously, how do you expect people to be awake at 4??”

“So why in the world did you wake me up so early? We had practice yesterday till 11:30!”

“Just shut up and come!”

Seokjin took him to a deserted park in the middle of a small hill, which would be filled with children in the bright daylight. He held the younger’s hand and seated him on a swing.

“Seriously hyung, I know I like this but-“

“Can you just wait, my love?” Jin quickly shut the poor boy up. He knew how vulnerable Taehyung was for his cheesy words and phrases.

“Get your phone ready. The moment is pretty short.”

In a few minutes, the night sky started getting lighter. Taehyung was speechless. He had witnessed sunrise many times before in the countryside. But this was nothing short of magnificent. As dawn came by, the two of them could see the sun’s red rays border the dark sky. It was almost like an entrance to another world.

“This is…more beautiful than sunrise.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Seokjin replied, clicking a candid of the younger man. The red-bordered-blue- sky made Taehyung look more beautiful. It was a pure miracle that he was with the beautiful man in front of him.

“Hyung, how did you…” Taehyung stopped midway, noticing Jin staring at him. His heart did a double take, looking at the older. Jin absolutely loved him. He was now sure of it.

“How did you find it?” Tae continued, without breaking the eye contact.

“Actually, I was practicing until 5am last Monday. We had our comeback show you know, and I wanted to give my best. So right in the middle of the practice. I never really expected the break of dawn to be more beautiful than the actual sunrise!” He took a deep breath before continuing.” And it was long since we spent time together, so I wanted it to be something different. No one would catch us at this hour. Just you and me together in this old, dusty park.”

“I’m sorry V” Jin choked. “I wish I could show you to the entire world. How much you mean to me. I wish we could walk around hand-in-hand and enjoy the sunset. And much more. But I-“

Taehyung couldn’t stop himself. Screw the world for now. Jin and his lips were all that mattered. The feeling whenever their lips meet never gets old. And he was glad. So glad that Jin was here, beside him.

“You know, we can always share that burden together?” Taehyung smiled, immediately pulling out of the kiss. He then nuzzled Jin’s neck and continued “And the last part was a bit too much. We’ve already gone on exquisite dates without people knowing!”

“I-I was trying to sound cheesy and romantic!” Jin replied, his voice going an octave higher in embarrassment. He then hid his head on Taehyung’s comparatively small shoulder. But, it wasn’t enough to stop his ears from turning red.

“I like you being cheesy. And surprising me like this.” Taehyung let out his boxy grin, patting the older man’s head.

Taehyung’s gaze went right to his apartment window when he realized that he had reached his building. And the sight couldn’t have baffled him more.

He left his house 12-13 hours back. The curtains were wide open. Lights switched off and rooms messed up. But now, it looked like a whole new place! The vase was back in its place near the window. The transparent curtains, that he had thrown in the storeroom was now diligently doing its work, preventing a lot of light from entering. Why? The flat facing the river now looked like it was occupied by a married couple!

Taehyung immediately rushed to his house, without paying much heed to his surroundings.  Who would’ve got the code number correctly? He quickly punched the password onto the lock and opened the door.

“What the fuck?” was all he could exclaim looking at the makeover.

The floor which used to be covered with clothes was all clean and tidy. The empty wine bottles that were thrown over the table were now missing.  In addition to the neat and tidy room, there was a huge packet on the dining table. And believe it or not, it was something Taehyung never imagined it to be.

Fresh, ripe strawberries. Judging by the beautiful fragrance that quickly filled up the room, it was from Daegu.

Taehyung was never this scared in life. No one, literally no one from his new company and contact list knew that he liked strawberries. No one would even guess the passcode. Except for those 6 idiots. And 4 of them were in the military. Even if they were there in Seoul today, it would be impossible for them to get this directly from Daegu.  Also, they respect each other’s privacy so much that they wouldn’t even dream of touching other’s phone. Except-

“No way” Taehyung froze on that spot. His heart started ramming on his chest so fast that he couldn’t process anything. It was so bad that he literally threw his bag down and sat on the floor, trying really hard to control his heartbeat and the nervousness that was pooling inside him.

“Okay, V calm down.” He told himself, using his stage name. “It’s alright. If it was him, he would’ve called you first. He would’ve come out to greet you from the kitchen. So stop assuming things and get changed.” But even after his small pep talk, Taehyung couldn’t move a muscle. He just couldn’t imagine that.

“Maybe Sun decided to help.” He continued convincing himself. “Yeah, it makes more sense. She couldn’t see me sad, so she called a few people to clean my house. She thought it would relieve me of some work and- SHIT IT’S HIM!!”

Sitting right in front of him, on the couch was RJ. The plushy that Jin carries with him everywhere. Looking at it, Taehyung was completely sure: Kim Seokjin is in his house. Or was. His heart was on the verge of exploding. Jin is back. His boyfriend is back. He is going to see him.

But to see him, Taehyung HAS to get up and walk. Which, judging by the way he was sitting with his hands on his head, would be quite impossible at the moment.

With whatever courage the man could muster, Taehyung slowly tip-toed his way to his room. His heart had no intentions of being merciful. “Okay” Taehyung took a huge breath and quickly opened the door.

The room was extremely cold, just like the way Jin would like it to be. And yes, as Taehyung expected, he was there in his room. Sleeping to be exact. Taehyung walked into the room with so much caution, fearing that Jin would vanish.  Each and every step he took towards Jin felt like his last one. At one point, Taehyung was pretty sure that he would pass out.

He immediately stopped once he was close enough to the side where Jin was sleeping. Jin looked the same, beautiful. His plump lips looked fresher to Tae, probably because he was seeing him after a really long time. His short black hair, which was messy right now, made him look even more gorgeous. Taehyung could keep staring at him for eternity, if not for his nerves.

The next thing our admirer does is try to touch Jin. Of course, no one can blame Taehyung there because who wouldn’t want to touch worldwide handsome? That too after two years? Taehyung slowly caresses Jin's cheeks, fearing that the latter would vanish at his touch. The moment his long, slender fingers made contact with the soft cheeks, Taehyung confirmed that it is Jin. His boyfriend. The only man in the entire world Taehyung would die for.

And guess what? Taehyung’s nerves gave in. The moment he realized that he wasn’t dreaming, the pent up excitement and fear completely made him breakdown. Within a few seconds, the supposed-to-be-ecstatic Kim Taehyung was a sobbing mess. It was so horrible (according to him) because even he couldn’t understand what was making him cry. And neither did the sleeping Seokjin, who was now woken up by Taehyung’s wails.

“Tae-Taehyung-ah?” Jin quickly got up, half-happy, half-sleepy and completely confused. “Wh-what happened?!”

“H-hyung yo-you are a-awake,” Taehyung told in between his sobs. God, this was going really bad.

“What’s wrong Taehyung?” Jin asked pulling the man close to him, wiping his eyes. Did he do something wrong? Was Taehyung sad with him?

“N-no hyung,” The younger man reassured him. He took in a deep breathe, putting his head on top of Jin’s shoulder. Without lifting his head, he makes a polite request. “Hyung, it’s cold. Switch it off.”

“Sure,” Jin replied pulling out the remote from under his pillow. Some habits never die.

“Is everything okay?” Jin asked after switching off the A/C. He slowly starts brushing Taehyung’s hair with his fingers, to coax him.

“Sorry, Jin hyung, I just couldn’t believe. It is you, right?” Taehyung asked, tightening his grip over Jin.

“Don’t be. And yes it is me” Jin laughed, patting Taehyung on the head. “By the way, purple doesn’t look that bad.”

“It looks horrible!”

“Nothing looks horrible on my Taehyungie. On the contrary, everything looks stunning on you.”

“Hyung!” Taehyung whined, hiding his head on Seokjin’s chest in embarrassment.

“So, shall I get dinner ready? Since I dozed off, I wouldn’t be able to surprise you. Is ramen okay?”

“I was just thinking about that.”

“Ahh,” Jin smiled and quickly planted a kiss on Taehyung’s forehead.

“Get changed. And don’t you dare mess up the floor once again.” Jin sternly replied and walked out of the room.

Well, to be honest, Taehyung wasn’t the only one who almost died of nervousness. As soon as Jin walked out of that room, he ran towards RJ and covered his face with it. Thank the good lord that Taehyung forgot to switch on the room light. Jin’s face was completely red.

“Fuck, why is he so gorgeous?!” he exclaimed under his breath. “And he called himself ugly with that purple hair? Damn him.” Jin turned towards the door, expectantly, hoping that Taehyung would run towards him.

But after waiting for 5 mins, which seemed like hours to him, Jin just got up (purely on instinct, happens when you don’t see someone for too long!) and walked towards the now closed room. He swiftly turned the knob, thereby opening it without making much noise. Not being able to see Taehyung in the room, Jin makes his way to the bathroom. He knew he was going to regret whatever he was doing. But well…sometimes, needs and desires should be given more priority.

Jin wasn’t himself today. That was for sure.  Taehyung was quite surprised to see Jin walk in, without permission.

“Wow, now that’s something,” Taehyung smirked. Trying something like this is not Jin’s cup of tea. “Since when did u become so brave?” Tae continued, switching off the shower. He opened the translucent door that was separating the two of them.

“People change, you know,” Jin replied quickly throwing his sweatshirt on the floor. Taehyung whistled, looking at the sight in front of him.

“Damn, Jungkook would be stumped if he got to see this” Taehyung growled. He caressed Seokjin’s chest and slowly moved his hands down to his abs. The Kim Seokjin standing in front of him was a masterpiece he would never let go of.

“I know” Jin replied, pulling the younger man closer.

“Hyung, how do you expect me to take a shower if you keep holding me like this?”

“But I’m hungry.”

“So go make ramen. I’ll come out in a minute.”

“Who wants ramen when there’s a whole fucking meal standing right in front of me?!”

“Ohh,” Taehyung smirked. “So don’t get your meal cold. Undress and come in.”

“Hyung, I told you not to go overboard!” Taehyung shouted from the bedroom examining his neck. Gods, how in the world were those stylists going to hide all the hickeys. Sun was definitely going to kill him.

“Relax; no one would even notice them,” Jin called out from the kitchen.

“No one would even notice them?! Do you know how huge they are?”

“Taehyung-ah, stop making such a huge fuss. If you’re so embarrassed, just tell them you’re sick and bunk. Who’s going to come and check?” Jin walked into the room, towards Taehyung.

“And anyways, those hickeys in your neck make you look extra good. “ Jin sneakily placed his hands on Taehyung’s perfect ass, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Fine, I’ll deal with this later. So tell me more about the service. What did they make you do?” Taehyung asked, taking Seokjin to the kitchen. He then arranges two bowls and chopsticks on the counter, while Jin transfers the ramen into the bowls. The latter then opens the refrigerator and pulls out two cans, one diet coke, and another, a beer and places it near the ramen.

“Well…I wasn’t in the front lines. But hell, they made me work out like a pig! They made the whole lot jog for 30-40km!” Jin exclaimed, slurping the noodle. “They don’t even give you good food! And there are so many rats in the dorm rooms! Once I almost threw a pillow on my commander because-“

“You threw a pillow at your commander?!” Taehyung asked, bursting into laughter.

“Almost. It was running where he was standing. What do you expect me to do huh?” Jin pouted.

“Aww, Seokjinnie is still scared of pests?” Taehyung asked in a teasing tone, pulling Jin’s chin.

“I’m not sure. Sometimes I feel like I can deal with cockroaches. Why are you grinning at me like an idiot?”

“Because you’re cute,” Taehyung replied, giving a quick peck on Jin’s cheek. Jin could feel his ears turn red. Not wanting to get teased more, he clears his throat and changes the topic. “Oh, by the way, my train stopped at Daegu for a while. I met Yoongi over there.”

“Really? How does he look?!” Taehyung asked, forgetting about his coke for a while.

“More skinny. He has tanned a bit. Otherwise, nothing about him has changed. He’s still that scary old grandpa” Jin quickly took a sip of his beer.

“Where did he go?”

“I can’t remember exactly where but, somewhere in the North only. He said he is coming here tomorrow. Jimin has planned a party for him.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Taehyung interrupted. “Jimin teased me.” He pouted like a baby before continuing. “I am so damn busy with all those photoshoots these days. So I forgot about tonight.”

“What was tonight?”

“After you and Yoongi left, the 5 of us decided to meet up every Thursday. Like I got recruited by Gucci. Jungkook has drifted towards directing and GV related stuffs. Jimin has recently released a single which you should definitely listen to. Hoseok-hyung had been focusing on teaching juniors to dance. Technically he has joined hands with our dance managers. Namjoon-hyung started producing songs and rapping English covers and all.”

“So I’m the only one who has to search for something to do huh?” Seokjin sighed, trying really hard not to show his disappointment. He knew he would be in huge trouble once Bangtan disbands or goes on a hiatus.

“Hyung, you just came back. There’re-“   Taehyung stopped when he sensed Jin’s disappointment.

“Look at me hyung.” Taehyung turned Jin’s head, facing his. “You’ll get your chance. You have so much to choose from. You can sing, act, model, host variety shows, etc. You can literally do so much, and you’re scared that you won’t be successful like us?”

“It’s just that I-“

“No ‘just’. You’ll do it. I’ll make sure you get it.” Taehyung smiled and took Jin’s bowl along with his to the sink.

Jin couldn’t have been more grateful.

“So, how did you get these strawberries?” Taehyung asked, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Oh, you won’t even believe it! Do you know where these are from?” Jin asked, quickly removing the stalk from the berry.

“Where?” Taehyung asked, taking the strawberry from Jin and putting it in his mouth.

“Where?” Jin scoffed. “You can’t guess it by the taste? You were the one who told me that different strawberries taste different!”

“ Hyung, it’s been so long since I tried one from Daegu…wait, no way.” Jin smiled at the younger man’s surprised reaction. “Yeah, getting it?”

“Hyung did u actually go there?! Oh my god, it’s from the farm, right? Oh my god.” Tears started to well up in Taehyung’s eyes. Never had he imagined he would get to taste them once again. The perfectly ripe, sweet and a tad bit tangy strawberries that grew in the field. His field.

“How?” he replied, his voice choking.

“Now why are you crying Taehyungie? I thought this would make you happy. “Jin frowned, pulling Taehyung closer to him on the couch. “It really hurts to see you cry like this you know? Am I making you that sad?” He slowly kissed his cheeks, moving down to his neck and chest, until Taehyung was able to take control over his emotions.

“No Hyung.” Taehyung huffed. “I’m just so happy. It’s such a relief you know. To have you back like this. To sit and spend time with you like this.” He then stretched himself in such a way that he was able to rest his head on Jin’s chest, one of his favorite places in his hyung.

“So continue, how did you get them?”

“Well…I thought I should get you something interesting. And that’s when I met your mum.”

“Wow, you saw Tannie?” Taehyung interrupted, yawning and hugging Jin at the same time.

“Your baby was just fine. Started wagging as soon as he saw me. So where was I? Ah…yes, your mum. She was so excited to see me you know?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We spent an hour sitting and chatting about this cool new recipe she tried that week. She even gave me extra tips on fermenting the kimchi. She even talked about you. Why did you forget to call her huh? She was so worried!”

“Sorry, my photoshoots were going out of hand. “ Taehyung answered, once again yawning loudly.

“She knows. She then asked me to take this home to you. But seriously Taehyung, you’ve been living in such an ugly mess. Like the moment I entered the room, all I could see was that the trash was filled with coke cans?! Like seriously, are you mad? You might end up falling sick! Hey, are you even listen-“

Well…poor Jin wasted all his scoldings on the sleeping Taehyung. Taehyung was so exhausted that he automatically fell asleep on Jin’s chest.

Jin slowly took Taehyung’s hand and placed it on his neck. The sofa was so small that they were sure to get a cramp. “Taehyungie” Jin called out to himself, smiling. He definitely should get his sweetheart a new bracelet. The old one was losing its shine.

The older man slowly turned his gaze towards the ceiling when his mind started to wander, going back to the past. The two of them never tried hiding their relationship. Somehow, it automatically went to the backseat in 2016. And it remained there. In fact, after that the entire team made sure that it remained there.

But still, there were the interviews. Like hell, how were people so blind to the fact that Taehyung was so obvious? Jin could never really understand how people kept missing on them whenever Taehyung used to openly touch his thighs and hands. It was kind of hilarious you know. I mean, you won’t touch someone like that if you considered them to be your brother.

And then comes the lives. God, it was really clear that they would keep staring at each other through the screen. Sneak in a flying kiss every now and then. Openly flirt. And much more. Yet people never caught them. Jin soon realized that there was no point in acting so chill and indifferent to Taehyung because people just wouldn’t see them. It was almost something beyond their imagination, he supposed.

“I wish I could’ve tried more in those shows,” Jin told himself, moving his almost-numb hand over Taehyung’s head. “Like seriously, nobody caught me giving a flying kiss to Tae during those opening ceremonies, American talk shows, and interviews. How can they be so ignorant?”

“But it was good in one way,” He continued, letting out a quick yawn. “We got to confess our love and get closer to each other because of ARMY. And I’m grateful for that.” And like that, Jin closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to his own dream world.

Seriously, couldn’t you guys be louder?” Jungkook asked mockingly looking at Taehyung’s neck. “Damn, Jin took all his pent up frustrations and desires on you!”

“What’s your problem huh? They look good on me.” Taehyung replied back, pretty pissed. Not at what Jungkook said but at Jin.

“Yah Jin-hyung, why don’t you just get your ass out there and make out with that asshole there huh? You anyways can’t stay without touching him.”

“Not again Taehyung. I told you for the millionth time that-”

“So? You expect me to believe in that shit? Go! Get away from my sight and start making out!”

“Ohh, you’ve become so arrogant huh?” Jin retorted back. “Guess what! Why don’t you go have sex with that guy you hugged today morning in the shoot.  He has a better body than me right?”

“So you’re jealous hyung?” Taehyung voice almost rose up.

“You’re talking as if you aren’t “

“Why don’t you guys just not meet each other for another two years? At least the three of us would be at peace.” Yoongi replied, pouring drinks for all of them.

“NO!” Both of them replied in unison.

“Yeah yeah. I’m pretty sure people in love for so long don’t fight about things like this. Break up already guys!” Jimin sighed, throwing his hands up in the air.

“No, I love him. Don’t tell me what to do!” Seokjin replied back, banging his fist on the table.

“Hyung what?” Taehyung asked, with an amused smile on his face.

“I said I love-“Jin stopped midway as soon as he realized what he was saying. His face turned red and heartbeat accelerated.

“No-Nothing.”

“But your face says otherwise hyung!” Jungkook laughed, pointing at his hyung’s ear. Taehyung quickly pulled Jin for a hug and a peck on his lips. “You heard him, Kook. And neither will I because I love him more than anything else in this world!”

Jimin and Yoongi sat together in the corner looking at the couple and the annoying Jungkook.

“Taehyung and Jin’s confession was completely unnecessary,” Jimin replied, pouring himself some more Soju.

“I swear. It’s literally written all over their face. You can see their eyes becoming hearts every time they look at each other. They look so complete” Yoongi replied.

“Guess this is what you call being at home.” Jimin replied, pulling Jungkook beside him. And Yoongi couldn’t agree more with Jimin that night.

[tejeshvemula]

Rape, A disease; How to cure it?!

The very mention of RAPE evokes a nauseating feeling. We look at the rapists with utmost disgust. Its an unfortunate truth that rapes happen every day, but only a few are reported by media and rarely so some cases get viral causing a sudden outrage from all corners for 2 or 3 days, utmost a week. Soon after, we will be back to normalcy only to be enraged again by another brutal incident. I have my thoughts on this issue and I would like to present them from my perspective.

RAPISTS are not aliens. We as a society collectively create them and that is a hard truth. Now, most of us think that severe punishments are the solution for this problem. Yes, it is only helpful to an extent. Sense of fear has a limitation of appealing only to sane people but not to psychopaths. I would like to state the recent example of the case of Priyanka Reddy. Its depressing that 3 out of 4 rapists are minors. If you remember, there was a minor involved in Jyothi Singh(Nirbhaya)'s rape case. This made me wonder how twisted must have been their perception of Women and Sex for them to commit such a heinous act at such tender age? And what exactly gave those boys such twisted perception? If we don't try to understand and analyze the state of mind of those boys, we can never ever find a solution for this problem. Be it Nirbhaya or Ayesha or Priyanka. The perpetrators have certain things in common: Anger and disrespect towards women, and total disregard for their agony, and zero understanding of consent. Try to imagine yourself in the places of these perpetrators; if you had grown up in the same environment, hung out with the same people, would you expect yourself to turn out to be a different guy or to be a rapist just like them? Now my intention was not to justify the rapists in any way, but to emphasize that had society not failed to provide a better environment for these, atleast a few of those rapists would have been turned out to be responsible citizens. Yes, these criminals must be removed from the society just like an infected plant must be uprooted and thrown away. But that's not the end of the solution. How do we prevent the creation of new rapists? I believe that imparting three things in society can drastically improve the situation.

EMPATHY. The most powerful emotion that can make this world a much better place. More than punishments, we must have a system that nurtures empathy in each and every boy right from the childhood. 'Empathy' comes from 'Understanding' and 'Understanding' comes from 'Interaction'. So by isolating boys from girls right from the very young age, how do we expect them to grow up understanding the issues that girls have and show empathy towards them? I personally feel that our education system should change in the first place. Schools are not supposed to just be the places where they teach how to read and write. They must teach life skills. They must satisfy the curiosity of kids about the physiological changes of their bodies with age. If the curiosity of kids is not addressed, they seek other unhealthy means to figure out things. Ill-information is very dangerous and can have severe impact of a child's mind and can mess them up permanently if not caught early and fixed. So, its important that schools impart proper Sex education to kids. They should be taught how those sexual differences have different effects on them. As I said earlier, this understanding and acknowledgement of differences make guys to empathize with girls.

RESPECT. The lack of respect towards women makes men think that women are just for their pleasure. With this kind of sick thinking men justify forcing themselves on women, if they deny sex. We can't expect men to understand the concept of 'Consent' with out having respect for women. One of the very reasons why many men show less respect towards women is that they believe that women are weak. Lets agree on the fact that biologically an average woman is physically weaker than an average man. 'Average' is the key word here, because Karanam Malleswari is stronger and PT Usha is faster than any average man. Having said that, being physically stronger than women doesn't make men superior sex. There are things only women can do and there are things only men can do. This complementary nature of men and women must be etched into our brains. Only then can we have mutual respect.

RESPONSIBILITY. Finally, it is important to be responsible in how we carry ourselves around. Putting the onus on the women not to seduce men to rape them is totally disgusting and has to change. If we see the data on rape cases, it is clear that the victims belong to all age groups right from months baby to the women in late 90's. No man has the right to touch a girl without her consent even when she is fully naked. It should be left to the individual on what's appropriate to wear. Having said that, one should bear in mind that a woman's clevage evokes a stronger sexual response in a man than that of a man's bare chest in a woman. Men and Women are wired differently when it comes to sexual arousal and we must accept biology. Also, feminism is not just about freedom of wearing what a woman wishes to. Its more about her empowerment, her financial independence and her right to equal stature in society along side men. Lets not take the name of feminism in vain for every petty thing. Its unfortunate that many girls misunderstand the concern of parents as shackling their freedom. To girls out there; Do not jump your guns and call it suppression of your freedom when you are asked not to travel alone. Yes, its unfair to ask you to be on guard always. But, it is only wise not to expose yourself to plague. We have predators out there looking for prey and its practically impossible to weed them out with Thanos snap(How much I wish that can be done!), so why put yourself in a vulnerable spot? Avoid being out late night alone. If there is something that can't wait, dont let your sense of pride cloud your judgement, it's not a shame to take help of your dear ones. Having trusted company with you is no way a blow on your self respect and individuality. It is responsibility of every guy out there to help women in his life to realize their dreams. And parents shouldn't make their daughters fearful of men instead they should be enabled to be able to face unforeseen dangers. We, as individuals, should call out the perverts and raise our voice instead of having a casual attitude towards it. In the end, each one of us should fight for our rights and at the same time we should not forget our responsibilities.

Well, so much has been spoken but it was just my perspective at a very broader level. There should be a detailed profiling of the perpetrators of sexual assaults and should be analysed to find out what aspects of a society are causing such behaviour and should be corrected. Just punishing the perpetrator alone is NOT ENOUGH. It takes a collective effort of the society to stop rapes.

[imaginethemultiversedoms]

Tangled Webs (Part 1)

Fandom: The Flash

Rating: G

Summary: When Ralph confronts the youngest Team Flash member about the powers she’s been hiding since the bus event, Parker (OC) has to confess she’s been moonlighting despite the ever-present danger of Devoe.

A/N: Hey, hey! I’m back! So as I’ve been slowly catching up with Flash, I’ve noticed that all of the metas Team Flash has dealt with are adults. In the context of the fiction, I find it hard to believe that kids weren’t affected by the explosion or the Enlightenment. Plus it is a good story concept of a teenager trying to juggle high school and superheroing. So here is a small piece of that I may turn into something more (notice how that happens a lot?)

For the sake of this story, it’s not completely important how Parker ended up being on Team Flash. She just is at this point.

I’ve also fallen in love with Ralph. He has great depth of character and a great story arc. It was bound to happen.

EDIT: Yes, I did just add a “part 1″. While the story is pretty much the same, I did change the dialogue a bit at the end to keep it more in Parker’s POV. 1: it keeps a better flow and 2: I’m going to retell this in Ralph’s POV.

So yeah, Tangled Webs is turning into something more.

"Hey," Barry touched Parker’s shoulder gently, "why don't you head home? We still have a couple hours of clean up to do and you have that history test tomorrow." Parker nodded and shut her binder, shoving it in her bag. She noted it was four-thirty - about her usual patrol time. “I’ll run you home.”

"Nah, I've got band practice anyway. Jo said they would meet me at Jitters. Thanks anyway." She noted with relief the team accepted the excuse. Only Ralph looked a little suspicious, but she figured it was because she was the youngest and a non-meta. 

Supposedly, at least.

Barry insisted on running her to an alley around the corner of Jitters. As soon as he left though, she breathed a sigh of relief and tugged off her bag. Ducking behind a dumpster, she pulled off her coat and stripped down to her leggings and cami top. Shivering in the late fall air, she pulled out a white and black suit, a prototype Cisco tossed for Ralph's new suit. It was still too loose in places, but it fits what she needed to do well enough. It was even warmer than the cobbled together suit she started out with a few months ago. 

She put her backpack on and pulled out her phone. Metal would do nicely for this patrol. Letting the sounds of Godsmack bang in her ears, she pulled her mask down. It’d been a good day for Team Flash. Hopefully, that luck would bleed into her patrol. Afterward, maybe she could even set herself up in a construction area for some quiet reading. She smiled at the prospect. Pointing her web-slinger at the top of the building, she launched herself from the ground and started her patrol. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Parker sighed as her web hammock swung gently in the breeze. It had turned out to be a decent patrol. She caught a robbery in progress, webbed up the baddies, and deposited them in front of the police station. She was in even better luck that Captain Singh was the one who saw her. Joe would've probably recognized the jacket. 

Then she webbed up some asshole who tried to steal a kid's bike, helped someone with directions, and walked an elderly lady across the street. That lady also ended up buying her a sandwich as thanks. Now she found herself a nice spot at the top of the new office building under construction, studying for her history exam, with a great view of the sunset. 

"Gotta say, you found yourself a pretty great view, kiddo." Parker looked up from her studying, confused and alarmed. There was only one person she allowed to call her "kiddo". Not even Barry could get away with it. She looked all around but didn't spot Ralph. It wasn't until she heard him stretching on her left that she found him walking across the platform towards her. He was obviously trying not to look down. "Take it you're not afraid of heights?" 

"Never," she admitted softly. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Depends." He gestured towards the web hammock and she nodded. He stretched himself slowly onto the hammock, making sure it would hold both their weights. Parker wasn't worried; her webbing was stronger than spider silk. Silk…maybe that could be her codename... "Does the team know you were even on that bus that morning?" he asked, breaking her from his thoughts. She picked at a stray thread on her jacket. 

"No," she whispered. Guilt and shame filled her again at the lie she'd been telling her family for months. She knew Devoe was searching for all the bus metas and she should've told the team what really happened that day. Risking a glance at Ralph, she saw his expression said the same thing. 

"What were you doing on that bus that morning?" he asked gently. 

"That was the morning everyone was trying to get Barry out of the Speedforce." She glanced at Ralph, who nodded for her to continue. "I wanted to be there, but Joe made me go to school nonetheless. Said it was better if I just went to keep my mind off what was going on. But I couldn't stop thinking of being able to see Barry again, so after homeroom, I kinda..."

"Ditched?" Ralph supplied gently. Parker nodded. "And hoofed it to the nearest bus stop and tried to sneak on?"

"I forgot my money pouch at home." She caught his eye for a moment and smiled crookedly, remembering the drunk/hungover guy that paid for her fare and let her sit at the window so no creeps bothered her. "I still owe you three dollars, huh?" 

"Buy me a coffee and we're even," he joked. "And the powers?"

"There was a spider crawling on your bag when you were dozing. I meant to get it off, but the bus jerked and the spider bit me just as dark matter flooded in."

"Whaaaat?" Ralph gasped. "You mean you actually got bit by a radioactive spider?" Parker giggled and nodded. "Oooh, I'm so jealous! Wait, what happened to the spider?" Parker cringed. 

"Accidentally squished it." Ralph's lips curled up, disgusted for a moment. A question burned in her mind and before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. "How did you find me?"

"When Barry and Iris had me hypnotized, I remembered you a little more clearly," he explained. "At first, I thought you were being a teenager about school and quitting band, but your routine became a little too predictable" he pulled out his phone and pulled up a YouTube clip of the mystery spider meta swinging past and waving. Parker noted it was taken a couple months ago, shortly after her powers manifested. "Coupled with the routine of that mysterious spider meta swinging around, it didn’t take long to put it together." Parker handed him back his phone. 

"That doesn't explain how you found me." Ralph gestured at the webbing to the building. 

"You leave a trail, kiddo." She blushed and picked at her backpack again. He nudged her to get her to look up. His expression was worried, bordering on panic. "An extremely easy one too. If I could follow you halfway across Central City, what makes you think Devoe couldn't either? The man had a flying chair and is now taking over metas. It would be terrifyingly easy for him and we wouldn't know until it was too late." 

Tears burned behind her eyes as she turned away to stare at the bay. She knew the risk she was taking not telling. But she wanted to help her city like her friends. Then when she realized the juggling act between school and superhero, she knew she couldn't tell them just yet. Then came the comments about the spider meta, the video clips, and the mystery behind the spider mask. The lies just continued stacking up and when the team realized Devoe was tracking the bus metas, she was in way too deep. So she kept moonlighting and swinging and ignoring the ever-creeping danger of Devoe and breaking everyone's heart. 

Sniffling, she wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I'm sorry," she whispered. “Even though I knew lying about being on the bus would have disappointed everyone, I thought that if I could prove how good of a superhero I am, they wouldn't yell at me." She scrubbed at the tears that kept falling. "By the time we knew Devoe's intentions, I was in too deep. I just wanted to ignore the danger and keep doing what I was doing."

With a heavy sigh, Ralph reached up and wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders in a hug. "I get it. I know what it's like to feel you live in someone’s shadow and want to prove yourself." He rested his chin on top of her head and sighed. "And the thing is, you have. I've seen the footage. You help people and relate to them. They love you, way more than Elongated Man." Parker looked up, surprised to hear the bitterness in his voice.

"People think you're cool too, Ralph," she insisted. "I think it's cool how you can stretch and stuff." Ralph grinned, looking both surprised and pleased at the compliment. She sighed, staring at the sunset. "They’re going to be pretty pissed, huh?"

"Oh, no doubt.” At the dejected slump of her shoulders, he hugged her again. "But I withheld crucial bus meta information too. I'll take on some of that anger for you." She looked up, surprised. 

"Really?" 

"Really. I can take it. Besides, we're a team now, right? I'll stand beside you." Parker grinned and hugged Ralph tightly around the middle. He laughed softly. Noting the sun was pretty much set, he pulled back. "Come on, break down this webbing and we'll pick up some Big Belly Burger to sweeten their tempers." 

"Are we going to drive there?" she asked, packing up her stuff. Ralph scoffed and put his mask back on. 

"When we have a faster mode of travel? There's a Big Belly on the corner of 31st and Park. Race ya there?"

She grinned wider and pulled her mask down and hood up. "Best swinger pays for dinner?" she asked, spider-crawling up the metal frame. She didn’t notice Ralph’s grimace, her mind on her growling stomach. That sandwich was a good three hours ago; a Big Belly Triple Decker with large fries sounded like heaven about now. 

"Yeah, I could go with that. Ready...set..."

"Ralph?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not just my teammate. You're my big brother too." For the third time that evening, she was surprised at her own admissions. While they were genuine fears and feelings, she had a hard time expressing them and usually resorted to some sort of action rather than words. She wasn’t ready to face the emotional war of telling the team she’d been lying, much less tell Ralph how much she looked up to him. But here they were.

She stole a glance at him and was glad that her mask completely covered her face. Even behind his eye mask, he was surprised and touched at the admission. Clearing his throat, he nodded. She could see his eyes glistening a bit, but he hid it behind a playful wink. “You might soon regret giving me that title, kiddo.” 

She lifted her mask enough to stick her tongue out. "You gotta catch me first. Ready...set...GO!"

[kman1902]

Bits and things about movies and TV shows in 2018

It is a rather similar post to what I have done back in 2016, and I thought it would be a great way how to re-start /for at least a fifth time/ to write and share some stories of life, movies and some other things as well.  Movies and TV series have always been something that I enjoy watching. I love it for many reasons, starting with the fact that you can see a form of art displayed on the screen. Imagine how many people it took to put the whole thing together. Actors, directors, designers (costume and set), producers, editors, sound engineers and way more. Movies and TV shows in a way also provide a great escape for those who need it. You can let your imagination flow with the movie and explore something above your own life. Movies and TV shows can also change our perception of life. I am not saying it alters your life completely, but I do believe that a great idea caught in a movie can be taken home with you and it shifts your understanding at least a little bit.

This is not a list of the TOP 10 movies, created by the academy or a scientifically proven list, this is just me as a friend and a lover of the arts sharing my own favourite movies and TV shows of 2018. A fair warning ahead, these are not just movies and TV shows released in 2018, but I have included older ones, which I have seen and enjoyed in the past year. I have been nice and I linked all the titles with the IMDb pages as well. /Enough blah, blah and lets start!/

The Voices (2014) - /Told you that I ain't sharing just 2018 love affairs/ This one definitely has flown under the radar by many. Ryan Reynolds is in it, so do you need any other reason, why not to watch it? It is a very psychedelic thriller comedy. It definitely made me a bit sad the next day /and slightly relieved/ that I can not understand what my animals are trying to say. 

Black Panther (2018) - Of course this is on my list, not just because I am a huge fan of the Marvel cinematic universe, but also because this raised a new bar for superhero story telling. I know that a lot of people did not like the movie, it was not their taste. That is totally fine, cause we are so different, with so many opinions. But for me the movie felt great because it was engaging both on the action, I loved the story how Black Panther came to be and it was filled with color. Also in my opinion the African style was very nicely added within the clothes and each tribes specific culture. Additional reason why it is one of my 2018 favourites is also due to what it did on a social level. If you have no idea, what I am talking about, check this article. Wakanda forever!

The Office (2005–2013) - As I had no job for a month and a half, between writing job applications and sleeping /officially we stick with this story/, this was what I devoted my whole attention to. For sure this is not everyones cup of tea, but as a person who quit working in a big corporation I could relate to a lot of things within the show. Also I started daydreaming of having a similar love story as Jim Halpert and Pam, but more in reality I was driving towards being Stanley or even Creed. Not sure what I am talking about, again? Just check out the show. The jokes are still very relevant and the corporate environment is still the same. 

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - /Give them all the Oscars/ A second of many entries from the Marvel universe. Not everyone likes superhero movies, but for those who do, I think this one is one of the top ones. The sheer pressure throughout the movie and the rather dark ending of it brought many people to shed a tear. /Me included/ What in general I love about superhero movies lately is the fact, that it is not all fun and games, and being the best. It is portrayed as a challenge that actually in the end destroys you. Speaking in philosophical terms, it is the same as being nice and open to everyone in these days. Sooner or later you will burn out for the sake of others. Back to the movie, it is also amazing that they managed to connect so many characters together and bring a good story with them all. Marvel has definitely worked this out, and the result of Captain America: Civil War already showed it. 

Lady Bird (2017) - Yes, standing next to superheroes there is also this film. The simple question - do you remember how you felt when you were seventeen? When I look back at things now, sometimes I would give everything to be seventeen again. Take away the responsibilities and everything, but then I also remember that even back then the world felt a bit too big to handle. Most of us have managed to step away from the idea that we need to please everyone, but still we do like the idea that people like us. Remember how it was back then?

The End of the F***ing World - There are many opinions about this TV show, from people saying that it is awesome, to people saying that they don't get why others waste time on it. I loved it. It is best if you check out the trailer and give it a try. Maybe it connects to people on a personal level and it drives them to watch it, maybe that is also the reason for such divided opinions. 

The Magicians - I have not seen Harry Potter /for shame... I know... how can I even exist/ but I think this would be something a HP fan would love as well as anyone else. The premise is simple - what would you do if you would find out that magic is real? I watched the first season with a buddy in 2017 and then I binged watched the second and third once I moved back home. It is a crazy story that can also drive the question in your mind - what would do if you would find out magic exists? Watch the first trailer here and do the goddamn magic! P.S. Hurry up season 4 is just around the corner. 

The Orville - I owe a lot to my buddy Marian for sharing this with me. This show definitely receives a gold medal from my side. It is funny, engaging and it talks about so many social questions and issues all at once. In our society I would expect we would be more advance and wiser, but there are still so many instances of racism and homophobia around us. This show tackles these serious notions and others perfectly. Of course in reality most probably if we would meet alien species at first it would be bombarding them and asking questions later, but just think how our belief and general acceptance would change if we would live and work side by side with aliens from many different planets. There is more to life than just black and white, and it is my belief that we should be advancing to a more open, understanding and diverse society. Second season is out now and so far it is as amazing as the first one. 

Papillon (2017) - The story plot I think is not heard for the first time. A wrongly accused man gets imprisoned and forms a friendship with someone. But the story develops and takes you along with it. The sad reality is that quite a lot of people have faced it back in the day and in some countries they face it still. 

A Prayer Before Dawn (2017) - The plot of the movie is based on a real life story of an English fighter who is imprisoned in Thailand. It is not an easy afternoon movie to watch, it is actually rather hard to digest, because of the simple notion that it is true. I can only be surprised how in reality the main character has survived it all and how he now works with prisoners and tries to help them. 

Origin - This was such a damn surprise. Started it at the end of the year and binged watched it until the end, after coming back home from a New Years party on the 1st of January. It is a thriller horror mashup. The idea of moving away from direct jump scare and gory horror is something that I love, and this show delivered on it. Being a suspense play between hunting an alien on a spaceship, surviving and dealing with their own pasts, the survivors on the ship portray brilliantly how people in stressful situations change. The horror genre is not for everyone, but seeing that this is not the standard horror flick with gore added, I can only recommend it. 

A Quiet Place (2018) - I started 2019 by really jumping into scary (or I would much rather call them thriller) movies. In a way, I blame Origin for that, because it filled me with adrenaline and I needed more suspense, and boy o boy, did A Quiet Place deliver on it. John Krasinski has directed a great movie, playing in it with sounds and sign language, adding suspense as the movie develops. It is called one of the best movies of 2018 and there is a good reason for that. I did not like the ending of the movie, but that is something you can check out and share your opinion about.

Aquaman (2018) - Yes, I am ending the list with a superhero movie. I just will come out and say it - I loved Aquaman! I am still so hyped about it, that I am even going to take my sisters kids to see it. The DC universe has been in the shadows ever since Batman v Superman (I am on of the few people who loved it), better let's stay away from Suicide Squad because it was a pure disappointment. Justice League was ok, but in all honesty I forgot I have seen it. But Aquaman... oh Jason Momoa, hats off for bringing the character that has been a bit of a joke between the comic fans on the first spot. The visual effects, the action, the story. It was all really well combined. I do hope that Warner Brothers and DC take this into account and they maybe find their vibe in creating good movies. I still don't get it, why did they get so afraid when people said that Batman v Superman was so dark.  

Honorable mentions:

Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018) - Perfectly stands next to Avengers: Infinity War and tries not to compete with it. 

Venom (2018) - Not sure why people did not like this one. 

Deadpool 2 (2018) - It is Deadpool... how can you not love Deadpool? 

The Terror (2018) - Literally a chilling TV show thriller. 

Bird Box (2018) - The hype is very real and deserved. 

Outlaw King (2018) - Netflix definitely has the power to create great movies (most of the time)

Darkest Hour (2018) - As it turns out Mr. Churchill in real life was not such a nice guy, but Gary Oldmans performance of the character was amazing. 

Altered Carbon (2018) - I like Sci-Fi and in particular I liked Blade Runner 2049, and this gave me a similar feeling to it. 

Brawl in Cell Block 99 (2017) - I did not know Vince Vaughn could play such a strong and steady character. This movie reminded me Shot Caller which in a similar way undeservedly flew by people. 

I did not get it:

The Predator (2018) - They had such an amazing material (first two movies in particular) to work with, but they created such a dud. 

Bright (2017) - I miss the days when Will Smith was in good movies. 

Skyscraper (2018) - I know that The Rock can do way better movies. Just look at The Rundown (2003). 

Daddys Home 2 (2017), Tag (2018) and Night School (2018) - Comedy movies in general are facing a hard time, it could be because most of the jokes have already been said and also because it is hard to connect with a slightly older audience. /Yes, yes 27 is not that old, but it is not that young as well either/ I think comedy movies should stop dumbing it down and maybe trying to find more intelligent and maybe sarcastic approach to jokes. Not saying that the movies are bad per say, but they are not impressive enough in a genre that deserves and needs impressive, good comedy movies. 

Murder on the Orient Express (2017) - Tried to watch it at least three times and could not finish it.

This is for sure a view point of my own and I am not expecting that everyone would have the same opinion about the movies selected. Movies and TV shows are something to enjoy and entertain ourselves with. It is not just the story plot, the acting, it is also camera work and playing with words and in some cases even sounds. Spending their free time in front of the screen is not for everyone, but for me, I love a good movie and TV show, the same as I love reading a good book in the morning whilst going to work. 2019 will be an interesting year for movies and TV shows, as Marvel is releasing Captain Marvel, Avengers: End Game, there will be also many great shows returning like The Magicians, The Punisher, Vikings is now running as well, and of course Game of Thrones comes to an end. 

Have I missed something watch worthy? 

Let us hope for a headbanging and awesome 2019 inside and outside of the big screen!

[hiyo-silver]

Amber

chapter three and I promise this is all I’ve got to post for a while

other losers are introduced in this!

1, 2, 3 on ao3

The Kaspbrak-Denbrough family awakes again the next morning, having actually slept the entire day away. Bill wakes feeling worlds more alive than he had before. Bill is actually the first to get up the next day, shaking Eddie awake, “Mmm babe how long was I out?”

Eddie had woken up at some time the day before, having he and Quinn eat dinner but not wanting to wake Bill, since sleeping is probably doing him good. He just ordered pizza, something easy and not overly taxing.

“You’ve been asleep for at least 24 hours, you should shower,” he says softly, rubbing Bill’s back slowly but firmly.

Bill nods softly in agreement, “Mkay,” he says sleepily. He sits up and gets out of bed, grabbing another pair of pajamas. He disappears into the bathroom to take a hot shower, the heat feels soothing overall.

He comes out feeling refreshed and completely awake again, almost human feeling again. He walks back into the bedroom, dressed and relaxed. He sees Eddie looking stressed and typing furiously on his phone.

Eddie looks up quickly when Bill finally walks in, “Bill,” he says quickly, “Bev had her baby.”

It takes a second for the information to sink in for Bill. when it finally does he’s already slipping his socks on his feet and shoving his sneakers on without even untying the laces. “We gotta go be there for it,” he insists.

Eddie nods in agreement, “Yeah, you sure you up to it?” he asks worriedly.

“Yeah, I feel worlds better, besides, this is a big deal,” Bill insists further, quite persuasive once he’s fully awake.

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie says softly, grabbing his own shoes and socks. He pulls his on a little less hastily than Bill had.

“Hey, Quinnie, can you get your shoes on?” Bill asks gently, grabbing his wallet and his phone, putting his watch on quickly.

“Yeah, why are we rushing?” She asks, she creases her eyebrows in worry, looking incredibly confused.

“Auntie Beverly is having her baby,” Bill smiles softly and starts walking to the living room and then to the front room to grab his coat off the hook where Eddie had put it away once he fell asleep on Monday.

Eddie grabs two water bottles and fills Quinn’s sippy cup with orange juice, wanting them to at least drink something if they were going to leave the house early and without having breakfast.

Once they have everything situated and Quinn is strapped into her car seat, Eddie made Bill at least take some Dayquil before leaving, just in case. Eddie drove, not trusting Bill with his car as much as he trusts himself, he takes good care of his car.

They arrive at the hospital and then they wait. And wait. Until finally a joyous Ben comes bursting out of the room, “I have a daughter,” he says quickly, stumbling over his own words with his own giggles getting in the way.

Both Bill and Eddie stand up immediately to envelop Ben in a congratulatory hug. “I’m so happy for you,” Eddie whispers softly before they all pull away.

Ben leads them into the room where Beverly is laying calmly in the hospital bed, although her face is still red from crying. But otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to tell, she looked serene with the child wrapped in a white blanket in her arms. She cooed softly and stroked the baby’s cheek, impressed with her body’s ability to make something so beautiful.

Bill and Eddie walk over, Quinn standing in the corner, not sure what to make of the situation. Beverly smiles softly at them, exhausted from the effort. “Does she have a name yet?” Bill asks.

“Amber,” Beverly says softly, smoothing the blanket gently again. “You hair is winter fire, January embers, my heart burns there too,” she recites the reasoning behind the name softly, stroking the baby’s hair, which already had an obvious tint of red.

“That’s a really pretty name,” Eddie says, Bill responding with a small nod. Ben and Beverly seem over the moon about the new baby and Bill and Eddie couldn’t be happier for them.

“Congratulations, Bev,” Bill adds, remembering how happy it had been when they finally officially adopted Quinn, he assumes this feeling must be similar. Although different, he almost feels bittersweet about the fact that he wouldn’t feel what Ben is feeling right now, but he also doesn’t think he’d ever want to change anything about his life.

“Thanks, Bill, now I’ll know how being a parent is, eh? You’ll have to help me through, I’ve never changed a diaper before, except maybe Quinn’s a few times,” Bev chuckles lightly.

“Yeah, I’m here to help, especially since you watch my kid all week,” he chuckles, beckoning for Quinn to get out of the doorway and come closer to see the baby.

The small girl walks up to him, hiding a little behind Bill. “She’s really small.”

“Yeah, babies tend to be,” Bill chuckles.

Soon, Stan and Mike come bursting into the hospital room with a gift bag and their twins in tow. “Bev, Ben!” Mike says enthusiasticallly, handing the bag to Ben since Beverly’s arms were already holding the only gift he really wanted to hold.

Bev passes the baby carefully to Mike, the baby still asleep. Mike coos quietly, remembering when Andy and Jenny were this small, scared to hurt her just because he’s so much bigger than her.

Stan gasps a little in surprise, “oh!” he takes her carefully, “Hi little baby, please don’t cry at me I still don’t know how to deal with that,” he says jokingly, though his voice quivers fearfully.

Eddie, who works in the NiCu sometimes, laughs lightly at how two grown men are so scared of such a tiny human. Though, he can’t talk, for he is scared of spiders that are much much smaller. “Stan, babies cry, it’s fine,” he says softly as he takes the baby from him gently, not sure that Stan was supporting her neck enough.

Quinn had long since attached herself to Bill’s leg, having never really been faced with this type of situation. It wasn’t anxiety over her parents friends, she knows them all well. Definitely not anxiety over the hospital, Bill was a little protective over her and would often at least bring her here to Eddie if Eddie wasn’t already home. Maybe it could even be distressing to her that Beverly didn’t look as comfortable as she always does, but the most likely cause was the baby that was currently in her dad’s arms.

Bill looks down at her, russling her blonde locks with a little chuckle, “Cat got your tongue, chatterbox?” he teases, lifting her up into his arms to level her with the baby, trying to make her less intimidated.

Quinn studies the sleeping expression, how Amber’s face is red and wrinkly, looking back up at her papa with confusion, “I thought babies were supposed to be cute?”

Bill suppresses a chuckle, “they are, you just have to remember that they’re babies and not big people, you looked like that as a baby,” he smiles, trying to give her a close enough explanation.

She seems to accept the answer, studying the smaller child with a fascination only a child’s eyes can hold. At one moment it seems to click and the fascination turns more to caring, reaching out to poke the baby’s cheek, to which Bill responds by pulling her hand back.

“Hey, hey,you shouldn’t touch her face unless you’ve washed your hands,” he explains, moving away because it seemed Mike was going to hold her again.

“You look-,” Mike pauses, adjusting how he was supporting her neck at Eddie’s instructions, “Just like your mom,” he smiles, looking over at Bev with a bright expression.

Bev smiles back reassuringly, looking down at Ben’s thumb stroking her hand, a certain comforting feeling in the surreal moment she was in.

The serene was suddenly interrupted by a loud and lanky man bursting through the door, “AY! And her Uncle Dick is here,” he grins, handing a bag to Ben, obviously a bottle of wine of some sort, “For the m’lady who hasn’t been able to drink for nine months,” he grins, a hint of his British guy voice sneaking into his words. “Sorry I’m late to the party y’know, walk of shame, wanted to at least brush my teeth for you guys,” he smiles with no actual hint of shame.

“Richie,” Bill grins, walking over to him with a proud pat on the back with the hand that was not holding his daughter, “not around the kids, but was she at least pretty?” he whispers the second part with a mischievous grin.

“Ah she was gorgeous,” Richie speaks back with a smile that takes up half his face, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he spots the baby in Mike’s arms. “Gimme gimme gimme gimme,” he says quickly, reaching his arms out, “please?” he asks as an afterthought, his excitement having gotten the best of him.

Mike just smiles in understanding and passes her over, settling her head in the crook of Richie’s arm. “Geez, Rich, you reek of cigarette smoke, couldya not right before meeting a brand new baby?” he asks, though he knows the answer and there isn’t any real bite to his tone.

“Nah, Mike, it’s part of the Uncle Dick charm, can’t let her miss out because she’s a newbie” he smirks, bouncing the baby around lightly to try and entertain her, she’d obviously awoken at his dramatic entrance.

Andy and Jenny sit quietly in their chairs, Jenny swinging her legs restlessly, “daddy, when do we get our ice cream?” she asks, swinging her legs a little more violently.

“And I thought they were just well behaved, Stan, a bribe, really?” Eddie smirks, trying not to crack up at the idea of Stanley Uris only being able to control his kids by bribing them with ice cream, it got him laughing hard enough to need his inhaler, which Bill pulls out of his pocket and hands over as soon as he hears his husband wheezing.

Stan can offer no explanation besides a sheepish smile. “Ice cream, or at least the promise of it, can make any kid sit still,” he says softly, obviously not really wanting to preach his parenting tactics.

Mike chuckles lightly too, “Hey, I’m slightly in the wrong here too, I was the one who said we could add chocolate chips if they didn’t tell,” he glares jokingly at the twins, “looks like we won’t be getting chocolate chips,” he jokes, he probably would anyways because he can never say no to them.

“Papa, I want ice cream,” Quinn says quickly, shooting Bill her puppy dog eyes. Bill is one of the few who can resist them sometimes, seeing as he knows he has always pulled the same thing.

“Sometime soon, not today, alright?” he answers, pulling her higher up around his waist.

“I can get you some ice cream, kiddo,” Richie says, sneaking up behind Bill and nabbing his daughter, Bill only then realizing that the baby was back in Beverly’s embrace.

“Richie,” Bill says firmly, “This weekend maybe?” he suggests, since when it came to his kid he would rather make plans days in advance, he probably has more separation anxiety than she has ever had.

“Alright, Billiam, you win this time,” Richie says, even after all these years, most of the losers have trouble defying Bill’s authority, which he still hardly realizes. “But I can still- tickle monster!” he exclaims, dipping Quinn down and dancing his fingers wildly over her torso, which has her erupting into unstoppable giggles.

“She’s gotten so big, eh? They grow up too fast, I can’t even blink,” Mike comments, looking over to his own twins sitting in their respective spots, “I can’t believe they’re seven already, and Quinn is almost five,” Mike sighs. “Grow faster than bean sprouts,” he adds in conclusion.

“That they do,” Ben sighs fondly, looking around at all the kids in the hospital room, “Amber is going to be as tall as me sooner than I know I’ll be ready for,” he predicts, looking at his tiny daughters face with such a softness bev had only ever seen.

Eddie pulls out his phone, taking a picture, realizing the time after, “Hey- uh guys we’d better get going, it’s time for Quinn’s nap and I’m probably going to make Bill go back to bed too,” he notifies, eyeing his tired husband, the adrenaline having worn off a bit.

"Weeks of no sleep catch up to you," Bill says sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't wanna go home and take a nap," Quinn whines, grabbing protectively onto Richie. "'s too boring," she pouts, the same puppy eyed look Bill tends to give him to get what he wants. "We'll let you play with the baby another day?" Bev suggests from her spot on the bed as Richie gently puts Quinn back onto her own two feet.

Eddie picks Quinn up on his own. "Yeah, another day when you and the baby aren't so sleepy," he explains, lifting Quinn up to his hip. She gives a tired nod and decides to sink into Eddie's grip and stop arguing with him. Bill nods as well, giving Ben a final hug and a smile in the direction of all his friends. He ruffles Jenny's hair and tells Andy to stay cool, something he tells the kids on a regular basis. After a few more stray goodbyes, they head out the door, and with the excitement wearing off, Quinn falls asleep before she's even strapped into her car seat. Which is exactly what Eddie expected. He slides into the driver's seat with a smile, "told you," he says to Bill with a smirk.

Bill returns a lazy smile, "I didn't doubt you, love," he chuckles, tugging the seatbelt over himself. He messes with the air and the music channel, earning a look from Eddie when he changes it to the 80s station. "Oh, William," Eddie sighs, putting the key in the ignition. He pulls out of his parking spot and out of the hospital parking lot. Bill rolls his window down, sticking his arm out of the window just a little. Eddie smiles at this, god how he knows how much his husband likes the feeling of wind on his skin.

"Oh you expected that channel," Bill grins, "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" coming on next. Bill gives Eddie a devilish smile before singing along to it teasingly. "Oh shut up, Bill- you're already like losing your voice, your voice sounds dead," Eddie rambles, partially teasing but still a bit worried. He looks over at his husband warily whenever his voice cracks over not even the highest notes, but reminds himself that Bill can't even hit those on a good day. Bill shakes his head slowly and just goes to humming the tune. He taps his finger on his knee to the beat, bobbing his head along with it. Eddie can't help but smile at Bill's obvious love for music.

Eddie pulls into the garage of the flat, parking in his spot. He lets the song finish up before getting out of the car with Bill, going to the back seat to pick Quinn out of her seat, she stirs a bit, grasping onto him in her sleep. Eddie smiles, "oh lookit her, I wish they'd always stay this little," he hums to Bill. "Oh god I just remembered she's going to grow up someday," Bill says, looking over at Eddie with wide eyes but a teasing grin. "Bill! No! That's not allowed!" Eddie whisper yells, dragging Bill over to the elevator to get to their place. Bill keeps making teasing faces at him, being quiet to try not to wake Quinn up, she looks too peaceful when she sleeps for that to be something forgivable. They walk through their front door, Bill bending down a bit to press a sweet kiss to Eddie's cheek. "Bed? Couch?" He suggests, Eddie just shrugging and walking towards Quinn's room. He lays her in bed, gently pulling her shoes off and pulling the blanket over her, Bill switches off the light, ruffling the sleeping child's hair slightly. Bill and Eddie head back out to the living room, settling on the couch, Eddie tucked into Bill's arm. "I have some papers to grade before tomorrow,"Bill says softly, but not wanting to move from his spot. "Those can wait," Eddie says peacefully, melting into Bill's side, more vulnerable when it's just the two of them. They both are. "Just stay here for now?" He asks, trying to mimic bill's own puppy dog eyed expression to him.

"Yeah, they can," Bill agrees softly, putting his head on top of Eddie's and taking a deep breath in. "They're about of mice and men, that damn book," he chuckles slightly. "Oh the one I'm pretty sure made you cry in ninth grade?" Eddie grins, tracing his finger over the pattern on Bill's shirt. "That's the one," Bill agrees, wrapping his other arm around Eddie. Quinn comes out after a bit more of their teasing. They immediately stop when they see her amble into the room, sitting on the couch next to them, snuggling up to Eddie's side, still not fully woken up. "Daddy? Papa? Where do babies come from?" She asks curiously. Bill's face goes nearly white. "Uh-uh your father and I couldn't figure it out so uh- we just decided to buy you from the baby store," he mutters out awkwardly, Eddie shooting him an embarrassed look.

Quinn comes out after a bit more of their teasing. They immediately stop when they see her amble into the room, sitting on the couch next to them, snuggling up to Eddie's side, still not fully woken up. "Daddy? Papa? Where do babies come from?" She asks curiously. Bill's face goes nearly white. "Uh-uh your father and I couldn't figure it out so uh- we just decided to buy you from the baby store," he mutters out awkwardly, Eddie shooting him an embarrassed look.

Eddie sighs and looks over at his puzzled daughter. "Some mommies and daddies can make babies together with their bodies. Some mommies and daddies can't, and mommies and mommies and daddies and daddies can't do it by themselves, you came from another mommy and daddy who thought you'd be better off with us," he explains, hoping it's not too much for his young daughter to comprehend. "Oh," she says simply, seeming to understand, "can we watch Cinderella again?" She asks almost immediately after. Bill cracks a smile, "of course we can," he responds, reaching for the remote.

[slut-for-fandoms]

Little witch (Part 5)

Pairings: Peter x reader

Word count: 2569

Summary: The reader is raised by Hydra but manages to escape after they kill her parents. She is emotionally unstable and can’t control her powers. The Avengers rescue her and give her everything she missed form life and wanted to feel. But would her new found love be enough to extinguish her desire for revenge? What would be the side she would choose to rely on? Will she be ready to face the real her?

A/N: I am so sorry i am posting this so late. My apologizes for the mistakes you will probably find ♥ It’s my final week of school so i hope you understand why i am posting it so late and why your requests are taking so much time. Please tell me what your opinion about the story. And i am really interested what you think would happen. Please share it with me :3 Enjoy! 

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

“Up, down, backwards, kick. Again! Try to attack the unprotected zones! Good, now jump, kick, that’s right. Now-”, Steve’s commands were interrupted by the loud sound of someone being thrown badly on the floor.

“Ouch!”

“Are you okay?”, Steve asked the victim but didn’t give it a try to cover his smile.

“Yes, Captain. I am fine.”, Peter rose his thumbs and tried to stand up.

“I am sorry Pete but you weren’t paying enough attention. And I really wanted to punch you.”, (Y/N) stated as she gave a hand to Peter in order to help him to get on his feet.

“You are getting your ass beaten up by a girl. What a shame boy!”, Tony exclaimed. He had entered the training hall seconds before seeing how the little witch knocked down the spider-boy.

“You are a great fighter and I have no idea if I should be happy about it or not.”, the captain was observing (Y/N)’s technique since they began training. For a period of two weeks it was hard for him to predict what she was going to do. He had talked with Natasha after seeing how the girl beaten up the famous Black Widow but Nat was amazed by her movements as Steve, “Hydra had achieved their goals. You are better than Nat. Well, not as they probably wanted, but still.”

Hearing the name of the organization that took everything away from her, she almost fell again in the deep. Different feelings were surging in her. The girl clenched fists, took a deep breath and relaxed. After a month of training with Bruce and Wanda she was able to control her powers somehow. She was thought how to use her rage without letting it to overwhelm her body, mind, actions.

“What do you mean? She is amazing with cold weapons, Rogers.”, Tony exclaimed and walked down to them, “Let’s call her The Slicer!”, the man was too enthusiastic for the others to take him seriously.

“The Slicer? What a terrible name.”

“Take your word back captain or a new Civil War will erupt.”

“I like it. It makes me look dangerous.”

“You are a dangerous woman but I think it’s not for you.”, Peter expressed his opinion, “It’s for a coldhearted killer, while you are…”

“What am I Pete?”, (Y/N) came closer to the boy smirking and waited for his answer. She didn’t miss to spot the way he gulped nervously and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, “You are emitting nervousness. Why?”, the witch asked in a sweet and yet flirtatious voice, “Is it because of me?”

“I-um.”, another gulp, “No, yes, I mean…Argh!”, the boy covered his face and whispered something like ‘How can you be so desperately stupid?’

“Wait, why are you here?”, Steve suddenly asked Tony.

“Maybe because this building is all mine and I want to roam through it.”

The girl laughed, Steve gave an eye roll while Peter relaxed when the subject was changed and it took (Y/N)’s attention.

“Okay, okay. Stop that look! It makes me want to punch you in your perfect face.”. Tony stated and then continued, “I and Thor decided to throw a party so be ready in eight.”

“What?! A party ?! Why?”, Peter asked all of a sudden.

“Because my little kid you need to know how to have fun in your life. It’s not only the thick books you stuck your nose into.”, and with that the famous genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist man exited the room.

“Well we have like 5 hours until the party. Let’s continue working.”, (Y/N) suggested. It was her way to reduce the feelings inside her.  They were all going out and in the end of the exercises she felt much relaxed and calmed although her body was a little exhausted.

“Oh you continue. I am worn out so I will take a rest.”

“I thought you were a durable boy, Parker.”, the girl smirked as she saw the boy turning around immediately.

“I am!”

“But you got exhausted just from some slight punches.”, the witch came closer to the boy not breaking eye contact again.

“I might be not showing my full potential only because I don’t want to hurt you.”, at this time the teenagers were both smirking while Steve was looking with interest what was about to happen.

“Don’t spare me Spider-boy. Show me your super strength and you’ll see I can bear it.”

“If you are asking so politely. But don’t you dare complain after that your body is aching.”

“Oh, the sexual tense between the two of you has filled the whole room.”, Nat spoken. The witch and the spider-boy separated from each other looking away, “Don’t act as though you were shy. If it wasn’t in the training room someone would think you were about to break the bed.”

“Will you guys stop interrupting our training!?”, the girl asked in annoyance. The Avengers kept coming and if another one had showed up he could had possibly ended in the medical wing.

“Yeah, if you were actually training.”, (Y/N) gave the redhead an eye roll and waited for her answer. For one month she got used to all the teasing and jokes the heroes like to share between them, “You must spent less time with Wanda and Stark. However, I am here for the party. I assume Tony have told you so. Would you like to go with Wanda to buy a dress or something?”

“Shopping isn’t my thing and Will. Never. Be.”

“You were my only hope. Now I have to go to the shops.”, agent Romanoff looked like a small child whose mother just had told him she would not by him the toy he wanted.

“Sorry Nat. Oh, if you like something could you take it for me?”

“Yes, but you will owe me!”, Nat declared as she exited the room.

“That was a big mistake, (Y/N).”, the teenagers’ trainer for today stated out loud, “Anyone who have owed her something hasn’t ended good.”

“I will find a way to trick her.”, the girl gave a smile to the captain and the three of them continued working out. (Y/N) was without a doubt the best of them all, even the captain, but Peter managed to beat her five times which was a great success.

“Don’t hurt them!”, she screamed, “Mummy! Daddy! I am here! We will get out of here!”

“They can’t hear you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Show me your powers. Revile them!”

“I-I can’t! Don’t you understand, I CAN’T!”, she shouted, tears rolling down her face. She didn’t want to lose them, not now.

“You don’t give us another option. Enjoy the show.”

Screams filled the room but this time an explosion didn’t happen. Instead the girl stayed in the room looking at her dead parents on the floor.

‘It’s your fault! It’s your fault! IT’S YOUR FAULT!’, the voices filled the small place she was locked into. They were shouting and screaming in agony.

“Please stop! Stop! I did what I could to save you!”, but with each word spoken the voices became louder and louder deadening the girl’s obeys,

“IT IS YOUR FAULT WE ARE DEAD!”, her parents’ voices kept screaming and filling the room while the girl crouched in the corner of the room whispering:

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I did all I could”

“YOU ARE THE ONE WHO KILLED US! YOUR HANDS ARE COVERED IN OUR BLOOD, YOU FILTHY SPAWN!”

(Y/N) woke up from her nightmare breathing heavily. Since day one she kept dreaming the same thing every night. This time it wasn’t different. She continues seeing her parents dying and blaming her for it. At first she started believing them but after Wanda had seen her dream by accident everything changed. (Y/N) did her best to believe Wanda’s words that she wasn’t guilty, that Hydra had manipulated her in order to get what they wanted but something deep inside her was still feeling it was her fault. She had to be better and they could have lived till today.

The witch looked at the clock next to her bed. It was 6:30pm. She had an hour and half until the party. She stood up and went straight to the bathroom. The water was hot, slightly burning her skin but the girl didn’t minded. She liked it, the mist that caused her to breathe hard, the water that relaxed her body. (Y/N) wanted to stay there longer and to wash all the stress away but the time was flying. After brushing her teeth and putting underwear on she went back to her room. As she entered it someone did the same from the other door. With no surprise, it was Peter.

“(Y/N) are you- Oh mu gosh!”, as he entered in a hurry he fastened to spin around.

“Tell me, Parker…are your spider senses telling you when I am half or fully naked so you can enter in that moment?

“This time I knocked!”, the boy tried to protect himself, “You didn’t answer so I decided to check out what is going on.”

“Only to be sure I am okay?”

“I know it sounds stupid but I care about you and-”, and all of a sudden he shut up with eyes wide opened. (Y/N) blushed at his words but tried to cover it so he would not see it.

“I am flattered you wanna make sure I’m alright but I can handle myself, Parker.”, the girl gave Peter a smile.

“Yeah, okay, I will leave now.”

“No, wait!”

“What?”, the boy was surprised (Y/N) didn’t want him to leave after he saw her half naked for one god knew what time in a roll.

“I have problems with what to wear tonight. Would you stay and help me choose?”

This time both blushed and smiled. Peter accepted and closed the door. He sat on the bed looking at the beautiful girl in front of him. He scanned her body with only one look and gulped in nervousness. She was gorgeous and not only because of her appearance. The girl was a complex character. Once she was confident and sarcastic, other times shy and insecure, on training she was like a killing machine when training with Steve. At those times she scared him but he knew that she was just a broken porcelain doll that would never be repaired and look the same as before. But Peter wanted to be the strength holding all the pieces together. The one being her anchor, to help her get through all of this and to show she wasn’t alone. There was a person that cared and he wanted the girl to understand it. Peter wished to show her all the things she missed – the happiness, the games everyone plays as s child, the feelings of having a first love and the butterflies you feel in your stomach when you kiss, the moments when you cry from joy, laughing, bliss. He wanted not only to make her feel the good part of life but to feel all the things with her. The boy wanted to make this girl happy and to be the reason she was smiling. And when she smiled form heart at his jokes or stupidity he smiled too.  

On the other hand, as the boy was looking at (Y/N) with something like love she felt insecure. When he had entered the room she spoke from annoyance but now she finally understood she was just in her underwear in front of a boy she asked to stay and help her. The girl bit her lip and turned around facing the wardrobe. She opened it and hurried to take the first clothes that she saw. It happened to be simply jeans and tank top.

“Well, you look beautiful in them I have seen but they are too ordinary for the event.”

“What about this one?”, (Y/N) showed the boy a black skirt

“It might work but what would you put on top?”

The witch grabbed almost all of the clothes that were in the wardrobe and began dressing. Peter rejected the combinations thinking it wasn’t for the situation or that the clothes weren’t fitting right.

“It’s 7:45 and I still have no idea what to put on me!”, (Y/N) sat next to the boy and was about to cry. He tried to calm her down but no boy knows the feeling of having a full wardrobe and no clothes to wear. It was despairing. As Pete was about to say something someone knocked on the door. (Y/N) stood up and went to open it. There was Wanda holding three bags in her hands.

“This is for you. I am sorry I am bringing them so late but put them on and come downstairs with Peter. Don’t be late!”

(Y/N) was surprised when Wanda mentioned Peter but it was probably one of her powers that showed her the teenagers were both in the room.

The girl opened the bags. In the first one she found just the perfect outfit, in the second she found some jewelry and in the third one there was a suit for Peter.

“This one is for you.”, (Y/N) handed the boy his outfit.

“What? Really? Why would they buy a suit for me?”

“I don’t care. Go to the bathroom and put it on. I want to see in something different than jeans ash shirt or your spider suit.”

“Okay, okay. I am going! No need to rush me.”, the boy smiled as he entered the bathroom where he began changing. (Y/N) hurried to change too although she had nothing to be ashamed of. She spent an hour half naked in front of Peter…why was she now feeling insecure? However the girl put the clothes on and looked at the mirror. She was wearing a black tight skirt that ended some centimeters above her knees. The top was short, simple and shower the upper part of her stomach. The way it outlined her curves made the girl look at herself from another angle. For the first time in her life she felt beautiful just because of some clothes. As she finished putting the necklace on, Peter came in the room in his suit. He was trying to put his tie on but with no result.  

“Will you help me?”, Peter asked innocently.

“Yeah.”, (Y/N) murmured after some seconds as she took some time to observe him, “But I don’t think it is necessary.”, as she came closer she took the tie away and removed the black top of the suit. Now he was standing only in his trousers and white shirt that had the top buttons undone.

“You look hot.” , they both looked at each other with wide eyes. Thanks God, she said only this not how she wanted to kiss him right now and bury her hands in his messy hair.

“Thanks.”, Peter smirked as he took his time to observe the girl in front of him, “But I am afraid you are overshadowing me. You are just stunning in this outfit.”, the girl smiled brightly and looked at Peter who was grinning too, “Shall we?”, her offered his hand.

“Let’s go to the party.”, the witch took his hand and they both went downstairs where they could hear the loud music and people talking.

Part 6

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[purplebowties]

Journey To Glory, Chapter 2 - Vienna

Vienna, December 19th, 2012

When Chuck and Blair landed in Vienna, the day after, the light rain they had left in Innsbruck had turned heavy; it poured down over the International Airport, covering it in a bleary grey curtain.

Slipping on her green and blue tartan patterned coat, Blair peeked out one of the plane's round windows and her lips pursed in a small pout. "This weather is going to ruin my hair," she complained, as, eyes narrowed, she stared at the copious drops drumming over the glass and blurring her sight of the landing strip. "I don't want to arrive at the hotel looking like a damp poodle dog."

Chuck didn't answer right away; instead, he took the time to inhale a deep breath before speaking. "We won't get wet, Blair. The flight assistant will escort us with an umbrella to the car that is most certainly waiting for us," he eventually commented in a distracted tone. In the short pause that followed that statement, she heard him tap his fingers on the armrest in a nervous gesture. "However," he kept on, "we're in no rush. We can wait for the rain to diminish a bit."

The hesitance and the barely repressed tension of his voice caused Blair to let out a sharp sigh, as she acknowledged once again his lack of enthusiasm. In spite of her attempts to brighten up his mood, Chuck had been pensive ever since they had left the chalet; all through the short flight, he had only uttered a few words – and none of them had sounded pleased. Trying to contain the bit of frustration she felt at the thought that she hadn't been able to break through the indefinite apathy that seemed to be keeping him from enjoying their arrival in the Austrian capital, she averted her gaze from the torrential rain and turned her head to look at him.

Chuck was still sitting, his legs crossed and his eyes unfocused as he stared at an imprecise spot beyond the window at his side. His coat, which the flight assistant had brought him a couple of minutes before, laid untouched on the seat next to his, folded as if he had no intention of putting it on.

As she eyed him attentively, the corners of Blair's mouth curled in tiny, gloomy smile. He was scared, she could sense it; scared at the idea of not being hidden in a secluded place anymore, scared of being exposed. Vienna wasn't a shelter and their presence there wasn't meant to be a retreat. They were there to enjoy the city, to live it: even if small, it was a step closer to reality - a threatening one to take for him. The chalet had been a refuge; it had conceded him the illusion of an utter serenity and leaving it, letting go of the comfort of isolation, had inevitably upset him.

"Do you think we should?" she asked him, leaving him the choice to answer to that vague question in the way that caused him less discomfort. Softened by a thoughtful patience, its deeper meaning had a little to do with rain and, when Chuck finally glanced back at her, Blair realized he had read through its lines correctly from the way he was only able to hold her gaze for the split of a second.

His response, however, didn't come; he consigned the shamed admission of his fear to a silence that didn't deny it or confirmed it.

Drawn by that silence, Blair moved closer to him and, resting a hand on his shoulder, she leaned forward, driving his eyes to follow her gestures and focus back on her. "Chuck, we don't have to get off this plane if you don't think it's time to," she told him softly, as her palm trailed down to his forearm in a caress. "We can go back to the chalet."

Immediately, Chuck shook his head. "I promised you a journey," he stated, as his expression darkened with a shade of unrepressed anger, "not a reclusion. We can't hide forever – we shouldn't."

Once again, Blair sighed. The irritation and the rigidity in the way he had spoken let the self-loathing he was torturing himself with show through; he couldn't forgive himself for feeling afraid and, as long as he didn't, she knew he wouldn't have given in to what he saw as a weakness. He would have never allowed himself to come back where he felt safe. "But I don't need to travel to enjoy our honeymoon," she still made another attempt to convince him, as, sliding her free arm over his shoulders, she sat down on his knees. "I just need you to be fine."

As those words came out of her lips, Chuck embraced her. He pulled her close to his chest, resting his forehead over her shoulder; he inhaled a deep breath and the, slowly, he tilted his head to side to place a kiss on the portion of her neck the coat left exposed. "I am fine, Blair," he said at last.

The statement, pronounced against her skin, reached Blair's ears as if chocked. Painfully conscious that there was no point in contradicting him with the truth that he couldn't be fine, she let him grant himself a couple of wordless seconds and, when he raised his head again to lock eyes with her again, she smiled calmly at him and conveyed her indulgence in a silent nod.

The hint of a smirk rose to Chuck's lips. "It's just rain, after all," he told her, bringing the conversation back to its original pretext with the intention to put an end to it. "I think we can face it."

Blair's eyes lingered on his face a second more searching his expression, before she guided her hands to his cheeks. "We can," she agreed, careful to give her voice a firmness that didn't match her thoughts perfectly.

Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his lips. Exposure wasn't as harmless as rain and she knew it could have cracked his fragile balance. Yet, she also understood there was a certain wisdom in Chuck's refusal to bend before his fears: they had left for their honeymoon with the precise intent to prepare themselves for their life together and that meant there were challenges they couldn't avoid – that it was right not to avoid.

The Imperial Hotel, where Chuck and Blair would have stayed for the next three days, was located along the Ringstrasse. Once been the residence of the Prince of Württemberg, the neoclassical palatial building overlooked the Karntner Ring boulevard. As the limousine slowly pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the entrance, Blair was stuck staring at the Italian neo-Renaissance façade. Not even the torrential rain still pouring down managed to dim its beauty; illuminated by the warm lights inside, it stood out against the dark sky of that winter late afternoon in all its opulence.

The captivated twinkle glistening in his wife's eyes made the corners of Chuck's lips tilt up in a small smile, as he let his gaze follow the line of her profile. The blissful glow of Blair's face was unmistakable and its clarity relieving; it soothed the restlessness still weighting over his chest, reassuring him with the confirm that he was living up to his promise of giving her the grand honeymoon he had promised her.

His smile, however, wasn't lacking of tension. He was reluctant to get off the car. Something about the prospect of entering the lobby of a luxurious hotel struck him as oddly threatening; he felt exhausted at the mere thought, and the fact that couldn't grasp the sense of his irrational nervousness added irritation to his distress.

Chuck would have wanted to share Blair's excitement and her readiness, but, in truth, it was only looking at her charmed expression that he found a reason not to wish they were still living secluded. The joy she let show through filled his heart with the desire not only to preserve it, but to make it deeper and brighter. Though he knew she would have accepted to spend the month they had for themselves isolated, and that maybe part of her even craved quietness as much as he did, it was with strictness that he kept reminding himself that he could have never allowed the sense of oppression he felt condition or undermine the journey he had planned for them.

As they waited for the driver to come open the car door, Chuck inhaled a long breath before grasping Blair's hand and leaving his touch to lure her attention. "What do you think?" he asked. He did his best to look relaxed before her eyes; when she turned, his smile had become a proud smirk. "Is it majestic enough for your taste?"

Eyeing him, Blair slid closer to him on the leather seat; she reached out to his face and, in silence, she cupped his cheek with her palm. Her warm stare was immobile as she looked at him. It scrutinized his face deliberately, as if she was trying to read through the pleased expression he was displaying and comprehend how much distress he was trying to conceal behind it. Then, slowly, her mouth stretched in a wide, affectionate beam. "It looks like a royal palace," she answered, and bowed her head a little to skim her lips over his jaw.

Chuck's smirk sharpened with satisfaction at the touch of her soft kiss. He trapped her shoulders under his arm and squeezed her hand in his once again. "That was the idea," he told her, his fingers sliding up and down her forearm. "I seem to recall telling you our honeymoon was going to be glorious. The places I picked for us can't be any less than that."

Laughing softly at his statement, Blair looked down and shook her head. Then, raising her eyes on him again, she smiled amused at the sight of the complacent expression showing on his face. "You're such a megalomaniac person," she commented.

Her tone, so full of a tenderness despite the joke, softened his smirk. "And you love it," he replied, pulling her closer.

Blair deserved magnificence, he told himself once more as, indifferent to the car door opening, he leaned in to kiss her. He couldn't give her that while hiding. Making her feel like the proud, graceful queen he saw when he looked at her was a mission he would have never wanted to back out of, even if in that moment it meant he had to ignore the sense of fright raising to his chest and trying to force him to see that he wasn't prepared to step back into the world they were greedy to conquer together.

The lobby was as impressive as the front of the building promised. Illuminated by a series of opulent, glittering chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, it was dressed in golden finishes and marble. On both sides of the room, the walls housed paintings of the Austrian emperors, enclosed by elaborated reliefs; raising eyes on them, guests could catch a glimpse of the first-floor balcony, which, behind a grand balustrade, overlooked the entire hall.

Crossing the entrance, Chuck took a quick peek around at the location he had so carefully selected for their stay in Vienna before resting his eyes on Blair. She was keeping a firm grip on his hand; it would have been impossible to notice for the strangers who had turned to at them, but she was leading him. Though they were walking unhurriedly side by side, it was with strength that she squeezed his palm as they paced towards the concierge desk and gently pulled him.

To Chuck, that imperceptible gesture was essential. He had given in to its subtle insistence the moment they had exited the car, when, exchanging a look with his wife, he had let her empathy catch in his secretive glance the words he didn't know how to utter. Blair had understood he was silently asking her to guide him inside in a moment, and she had accepted the task his eyes had trusted her with in the most delicate way. Grabbing his hand, a small smile of reassurance had taken shape on her lips; then, he had felt the clutch of her fingers curling around his and a slight tug, firm enough to make him move a step.

When they reached the concierge desk, Chuck was still following Blair's hold quietly, refusing to avert his gaze from her pleased and calm expression. He didn't stop looking at her as the hotel's manager welcomed them; he barely glanced up at him when he accepted to shake the man's hand and nodded distractedly as he offered to escort them to their suite.

"The Royal Suite is on the first floor," the manager told them as he guided them past the desk. "I suggest you to take the stairs rather than the lift. It's really worth seeing the staircase, if it's you're visiting the hotel for the first time."

Chuck realized immediately that Blair seemed to be intentioned to follow the advice. She was clearly in awe with the environment and, more than that, it appeared to him that she fit perfectly in it; he had the sudden impression that she belonged to the opulence of the place, to its aristocrat flair and its imperial history, and he got the further confirm that he had picked the perfect setting for their first reunification with the world. Though he couldn't wait to close their room's door behind them and give in to the need to recreate the boundless intimacy they had lived in for the past days, he wasn't going take the relish of appreciating every detail of the space surrounding them away from her.

He let go of her hand to lace his arm around her waist and, leaning over, he brushed his lips over her cheek kissing her. "I think we should do as he says," he said to her. "It must be beautiful."

Blair accepted his proposition with a wide grin, before demanding the manager to show them the way. A few seconds later, they were led at the bottom of the so called Royal staircase. The grand stairway definitely lived up to its name; well-lighted from the elaborately decorated ceiling by another splendid chandelier, it was given further majesty by the marble walls siding it and the plush crimson red carpet that ran up the steps all the way to the floor-landing.

As they slowly went up looking around, Chuck gave a gentle squeeze to his wife's hip, pulling her closer and forcing her to stop and turn her attention to him. "You look impressed," he whispered in her ear, making sure she'd catch his words over the manager's ones, who was giving them a detailed description of the hotel's long and notable past.

With a small giggle, Blair pulled back from his hold only to climb a step a settle herself in front of him. "You were right," she answered quietly as, looking down at him satisfied, she laced her arms around his neck. "I'm utterly in love with your mania of grandeur."

Chuck smirked at her reply, his arm finding its way back around her waist, and took a second more to look at her before leaning forward to let her know he wanted her to kiss him. He closed his eyes when she did, and, brushed by her lips, his smirk softened in a pleased smile. Had they been alone, he thought, he would have tugged her in his embrace, picked her up and carried her to their room as a proper bride, and it was with a tad of disappointment that, realizing the sudden silence around them, he had to remind himself that Blair was actually enjoying the small tour they were being given.

When she pulled back, he reached her on the step where she was standing and darted a glance at the manager to let him know that they were ready to go ahead and that he could keep on with his explanation.

It was then that Chuck's content smile faded. As soon as he met the manager's eyes, he couldn't help but notice that he was staring at them in a rather inappropriate way: there was no admiration or envy in his look, but, most of all, a persistent curiosity that made Chuck frown immediately. That unfortunate eye-contact lasted only an instant. The moment the man caught Chuck's glare, he promptly corrected his expression; he smiled and, bowing his head slightly, he turned and started to describe the painting waiting for them at the top of the staircase.

His eyes still narrowed, Chuck clutched Blair's waist tighter as they proceeded along the last few steps. He was once again impatient to be alone with her, to be hidden from prying glances, and he tried, with that abrupt and impulsive clutch, to deaden the feeling of discomfort come back to hound him.

With a sigh, Blair shifted her gaze from the portrayal of Franz Joseph I to eye her husband. Detecting the change of his expression, she shot him a quizzical and vaguely worried look. "Hey," she reached out to his hand rested on her side and clasped it, "what's wrong?"

Chuck hesitated. His gaze lowered to their laced fingers and, at the sight, he shook his head; he couldn't let one indiscreet look distracting him from the one thing that truly mattered: her wedding band and the reality of their marriage. "It's nothing," he said, and, pronouncing that statement, he repeated to himself that his distress was unreasonable and that, therefore, it didn't deserve her concern.

Staring at him, Blair searched his face in silence for a moment. She didn't believe him, he could tell, and when he saw her pursing her lips, Chuck knew she was making an effort to hold back the questioning words she felt the need to utter. Accepting his terse answer costed her patience and determination, and it was with relief that Chuck welcomed her pale smile.

"Come on," she told him, giving his hand a little squeeze as they reached the floor landing, "I can't wait to see our room."

Grateful for her tact and her implicit understanding, Chuck smiled back at her and tilted his head placing a kiss on her temple. Walking in a tight hug, they followed the manager along the hallway to an inlaid double door, bordered by a marble fame.

"The Royal Suite is the hotel's crown jewel," the manager said as he slid the suite's keycard into its slot. "I'm sure it'll live up to your expectations."

While the man opened the door, Chuck lowered his hand to the small of Blair's back and, darting her a satisfied look, he guided her inside. As soon as they stepped past the doorway, he found himself smirking proudly at the immediate amazement that had lighted up her face.

The door had opened onto a sumptuous living room, which, in its blaze of gold and dark royal blue, had clearly left her stunned. Just like the rest of the Royal Suite, the room was a nostalgic, splendid tribute to the grandeur of the empire Austria had once been; the regal colors graced each authentic piece of palatial style furniture in a blur of damask fabrics and framed the tall windows in heavy draperies. The silk-upholstered walls and the seven-meter high stucco decorated ceilings were given light by the same opulent chandeliers that had accompanied them since they had entered the hotel's lobby.

The suite was clearly designed to make its guests feel like the crowned heads that, over the time, had paced over the antique parquet floors and the lavish carpets, and that was exactly the reason why Chuck had chosen it: so that Blair, wandering around the chambers, would have felt like royalty.

He didn't speak as the manager showed them the bedroom, the bathrooms and the walk-in closet, and introduced them to the butler that would have been at their service during the stay. Instead, he remained in silence watching her and enjoyed the sense of reassurance her glowing face gave him and the sweet reminder that he wasn't failing her.

As they came back into the living room, Blair slowed down her steps and let her palm slither over the sleeve of Chuck's jacket in a stroke. "This place feels like a dream," she told him.

Chuck stopped pacing and locked eyes with her. There was something in her words that made him deeply happy and that, at the same time, left him unbearably tired, unable to silence the thought telling him that, in spite of his efforts, he wasn't always going to be capable of making her feel like she was living in a dream.

Yet, he forced a smile on his lips and, clutching her side tighter, he pulled her in front of him. "It isn't," he said, lacing her waist with both his arms. He squeezed her in his hold and, pushing her back against his chest, he bowed his head and pressed a kiss on the side of her neck. "It's all real."

And he would have done anything in his power, he wondered as he buried his face against her shoulder, to keep that gilded reality he had designed for the first weeks of their marriage true and unspoiled.

A couple of hours later the suite's splendor had given way to a warmer atmosphere. The grand chandeliers' lights had been turned out, leaving the appliques to illuminate the living room with their dimmer glow, and the heavy curtains closed. Mozart music played discreetly in the background, as Chuck and Blair sipped the Martinis he had prepared for them a few minutes before.

Sat on the Louis XIV sofa by the tall windows, Blair smiled at her husband, who stood in front of her in his excessively garish purple and golden silk robe. He looked more relaxed now that they were settled and alone, and she mentally congratulated herself on deciding to dine in their room.

Well aware that Chuck would have never swallowed a bit of his stubborn pride and proposed her to stay in – but equally conscious of the fact that it was what he truly wished and needed – Blair had opted for a passive tactic that had hardly ever failed with him: taking on his desire of quietness as hers, she had left him free to accept it without turning it into an intolerable fault.

Equipped with her most innocent tone and languid eyes, Blair had confessed her husband to be tired and asked him if he minded ordering room service instead of sticking with the reservation they had at the hotel's restaurant. "I really don't feel like dressing up," she had added with a sigh.

Chuck had reached out to her waist and pulled her in a hug. "As you wish," he had told her, running a finger down her cheek. "I'll call the reception and cancel."

Blair had nodded, smirking content at the way he was holding her: she had been overseeing the butler as he unpacked before coming back into the living room to talk to Chuck, and the less than thirty minutes she had spent away from his sight had already managed to tighten his embrace and turn it into a possessive clutch. It had been the relieved expression crossing his face, though, that had filled her heart with tenderness. "Thank you," she had replied, standing up on her toes to kiss him.

Unaware of the nature of her gratitude – which, more than about his clear desire to spoil her, was about the comfort she felt knowing she had the chance to take care of him –, Chuck had let her lips dwell upon his for a moment before excusing himself to go make the call.

Blair had therefore demanded the butler to set the table in the living room, which she was now starting at with plain satisfaction at the thought that she and Chuck would have soon enjoyed an intimate candlelit dinner.

"What's with that pleased smile?" Chuck's voice, veiled with interest, broke her relaxed silence and made her glance up on him again.

She shrugged. "It's a smile of appreciation for your talent as a barman," she replied without admitting the true reason of her gladness. Eyeing him, she raised her glass a little before lifting the stick to her lips and biting one of the two green olives poked at the top of it. "This is a perfect Martini, Bass: shaken, not stirred. And made with gin, as it should be."

Chuck took a step towards the sofa, a smirk curling his lips. He took a sip of his own cocktail and then commented: "Spoken like a Bond girl."

As she watched him taking a seat next to her, her eyebrows raised. "I hope not," she answered in a playfully accusing tone and darted him an eloquent look. "James has a different one in each movie. I wouldn't fall for such a voluble man."

At her statement, Chuck's mischievous smile stretched, taking an oblique shape. "You did fall for me, though," he affirmed, and his tone was tinged with obvious self-satisfaction.

Blair held back a giggle that would have surely offended his pride by taking another taste of Martini. "Your reputation doesn't give you justice," she answered, as she leaned in to place the still unfinished drink on the coffee table. She took his hand, which he had rested over her knee, and ran her finger along the wedding band he had been wearing for the past seven says. "You're not voluble," she added, smiling tenderly at the ring. "You happen to be the most faithful man I know."

Chuck's smirk softened. He put his empty glass down next to hers and then bent over towards Blair and, as he ducked his head closer to his face, he slid his palm under her nightgown, giving her thigh a delicate squeeze. "That I am," he told her. "Only a fool wouldn't be faithful to you."

The kiss he stole from her kept Blair's smile from widening. She closed her eyes, trying to relish that moment fully. It had the taste of the days they had spent at the chalet, the taste of lightness, and she clung to it as she had held on every instant of their retreat; with the awareness that such moments of peace – moments that reminded her of less scarred versions of themselves, of their juvenile love made of flirtatious glances and theatrical declarations – would have become harder to find once back home.

The sound of a knock at the door forced to part. Pulling back from Chuck at the noise, Blair heaved a long sigh of reluctance. "I think our dinner is here," she uttered lazily in a disappointed voice tone, as her eyes went open again.

Chuck reached out to her chin and rubbed it with his thumb, smirking at the saddened, childish pout pursing her bare lips. "Finish your Martini," he told her, stroking her leg as he slithered his hand back from under the satin chemise she was wearing beneath the nightgown. He stood up and took the glass she had left on the coffee table. "It would be a waste to leave it unfinished," he added with a wink when she took it, "especially after I put so much effort into preparing it."

"It would," Blair conceded and raised the crystal cup to her lips to take the last sips.

Chuck conceded himself the pleasure of darting her one last, long look before pacing away from the couch. He made his way to the door and, opening it, he allowed the waitress who had come to serve them dinner to come in with a silent nod.

As the young woman settled the serving cart by the table, Chuck walked back to his wife, who had stood up. He placed his hand on her lower back and led her to her chair; in a gallant gesture, he slid it back and waited for her to be sat before taking the seat next to her. He kept staring at her as she adjusted the coat napkin on her lap and it was only when the waitress set the plates down in front of them that he averted his gaze.

"Boiled beef served with hash browned potatoes, cream spinach, apple-horseradish-sauce and chive-sauce," the woman carefully described the dish.

While she spoke, Chuck quickly glimpsed at his plate and then raised his eyes back on Blair to try to understand from her expression if she was happy with his choice. "I took the liberty to choose for both of us," he said, motioning for the waitress to pour wine into his glass. "I hope it's okay."

Blair grinned at him. "It is," she answered. She rested her hand over the table, as if to ask him to take it, and told him: "It looks delicious."

As a pleased smile rose to his lips, Chuck cupped her hand with his, squeezing it lightly. "It's good to know my taste doesn't disappoint you."

"Has it ever?" Blair joked, the hint of a chuckle tickling her voice.

The corners of his mouth curled up at her reply, turning his satisfied smirk more vivid. He took a sip of Cabernet Sauvignon and savored it slowly before nodding at the waitress, who proceeded to fill Blair's glass. As she did so, though, Chuck realized something that caused his brow to wrinkle instinctively: just as it had happened earlier with the man who had escorted them to the suite, the waitress had shoot Blair a maliciously curious look. It had been brief, but evident enough for him to notice it.

Blair, on the other hand, didn't seem to have detected it; her face had the most serene glow and, when she picked up her glass to take a sip of red wine as well, she didn't miss the chance to glance temptingly at him.

Chuck managed to answer to that furtive look with a weak smile and then looked down to his plate. He couldn't help but wondering, acknowledging Blair's relaxed and apparently unaware demeanor, if the inquiring gazes that had seemed to be so obvious to him were, in truth, just a product of his mind. Was it the fear of disappointing Blair's expectations that made him believe that every person they had met had stared at her in disbelief in front of the fact she had married him?

And if they were actually real, how many of them had he missed while unable to give his attention to anything that wasn't his bride? How many times the eyes of strangers had scanned her and then filled with commiseration and criticism? They had run away to Europe with the intent to escape the oppressing shadow of what he had done – or of what he hadn't done –, but maybe the rumors had followed them. Maybe, looking at Blair, people saw a fool who refused to see the viciousness of the man she had vowed to love forever. Maybe he had condemned her to be labeled as guilty of her misfortune. The mere idea hurt him; it infuriated him, filling his chest with a crushing sense of shame.

Lost in his brooding, Chuck let Blair dismiss the waitress and started eating in silence. He knew his wife had perceived the sudden change of his mood, but he couldn't find the nerve to look up and meet her gaze; though he felt its weight and its intensity hovering over him, he knew that giving in to it would have marked his failure. One single glance, the romantic, quiet atmosphere he had been trying to maintain all day would have shattered. Blair wouldn't have allowed him to shut her out of his thoughts any longer: she would have forced words out of his tensely pursed lips and those words wouldn't have been the joyful and blissful ones she deserved. Inevitably, they would have poisoned their idyll with gloom and bitterness.

Wordless seconds went by and turned into two entire minutes before the clink of Blair's fork against the china plate finally obliged Chuck to stop ignoring her presence; it resonated clear and sharp over the melancholic sound of clarinet piped in through the speakers and forced him to lift his eyes on her.

Her stare was piercingly and immobile. There was a hardness about it, a categorical determination that would have made him glance back down immediately in only she hadn't reached out to his arm and clasped it with such a strength that kept him from turning aside.

"Chuck, you need to tell me what's wrong," she stated firmly. Her voice hadn't lost its softness, but it was inflexible; it told him, with every resolute note, that this time she had no intention of letting the conversation go.

Chuck rested the cutlery over his plate and heaved a long sigh before replying. "It's nothing," he tried to deflect.

Blair pressed her lips in a thin line. "I've already heard this today, and I know it's not true." Her grip on his arm tightened as she clutched it again; she shook her head, taking a deep breath. "I don't want you to hide from me."

Staring at her, Chuck covered her hand with his and answered to her touch with a squeeze. "I'm not," he replied, offering her a slight smile. "It just isn't important."

Blair stared at him in silence for a moment. The sight of her gaze, now veiled by the sadness his resistance had caused, made him duck his head and lower his eyes to his lap. Immediately, he sensed her hand freeing itself from his hold and, a second later, her palm pressed against his cheek as she cupped his face. Then, he heard her utter: "Tell me. Let me decide whether it is important or not."

Trailing off, her words had shuddered with a vehemence she hadn't been able to contain, a passionate quiver that was full of love and fear, and it was catching it that Chuck convinced himself to surrender to the fact he wouldn't have been able to keep on concealing his feeling; not even if he felt humiliated, not if his attempt to give her something perfect ended up hurting her instead.

He pursed his lips and shook his head slowly. "It's the way people look at you, Blair," he eventually confessed. Still refusing to look back at her, he guided his free hand to his face. "As if they were incredulous to see you by my side," he explained after a pause, rubbing his forehead nervously. He sucked in a deep breath and, as he tentatively raised his eyes on her, he added: "As if they pitied you."

As soon as he finished speaking, Chuck saw Blair's brow wrinkling in a slight frown of confusion that revealed his admission had left him surprised. Then, ducking her head, Blair looked down and let her lips curl up in the hint of a smile.

"Oh, Chuck," she uttered his name with a small sigh, her fingertips tracing his face in a delicate stroke s she pulled back from him a little. "They do pity me, but not because I'm with you. They pity me because they can't understand what I did," she told him. A deep end of resignation had accompanied her words and, when she glanced up on him again, Chuck realized that her expression was as stoic and as calm as her tone had sounded. "We're in Europe," she added, as, with a delicate gesture, she reached out to his hand on the table and started running her thumb over its back in circles. "To these people I'm the heartless American witch who broke poor Prince Louis' heart: they're always going to stare at me that way."

Immediately Chuck felt the impulse to free his hand from the weight of hers; he did it abruptly, instinctually, as if burnt by what Blair had said and by her touch. All of sudden, his chest was heavy with an unexplainable anger and his throat tight with the effort of containing it. Her tolerant, unconcerned attitude irritated him to the point that he couldn't look at her; though he knew she had meant her words to be clear and comforting, what she had said had made the sight of her become intolerable to his eyes.

In a fit of rage, he turned his head and shut his eyes. "Of course," he hissed, and his jaw clenched with the effort of speaking. "How could I forget your royal marriage?"

His bitter, sarcastic tone made Blair exhale a long breath. The tense silence that followed pounded in his ears like a wrathful accusation: his reaction had upset her, and, perceiving it, he clenched his hand into a fist, trying to swallow the self-hatred that kept him from offering her the comfort of a look.

"You said it yourself that it doesn't matter anymore now that you're the one I'm married to," she stated after a second. The tone of her voice was flat, sharpened only by a grave note. "I'm not going to let anyone's judgement ruin these weeks," she declared with conviction, "and neither should you."

Speaking, Blair had rested her palm over his arm and Chuck gulped at the contact. The moment she had reminded him of his own words, of what he had told her only a few days before about the insignificance of her past now that they were married, his heart had started racing. He didn't know how to explain her why, all of sudden, it didn't seem so meaningless anymore; he didn't even know how to explain it to himself. "You're right," he retorted sternly. "There's no need to talk about it."

Pronouncing his reply, Chuck gave in to the need he felt to stand up and distance himself from her. He moved a few steps away from the table and found himself staring at the door. He had wished to be alone in that room with Blair all day, but now everything about what surrounded them exasperated him. It looked like every single opulent, gilded detail was there to remind him that the best he could offer her was a make-believe: a pretense of royalty when there was nothing regal about him, a façade of wedded bliss when in truth their happiness was tainted by his faults.

Anger turned into sadness as he came to understand its sense. It hadn't been jealously to enrage him and neither had been possessiveness; it had been the same fear that had accompanied him all day, the unbearable thought that, choosing him, Blair had blemished her life with the dirt of his crimes.

He closed his eyes when he heard her pushing her chair back and then her footsteps approaching him. He carved to listen to the comforting words she was about to utter, but the way he needed them, the way he was holding his breath waiting for the embrace of arms, made him feel even less worthy of their devotion and strength. When she hugged him and he sensed the pressure of her forehead laid against his back, the sigh of relief he couldn't contain caused his lips tremble.

Blair's grip tightened. "I really don't care about what people think, Chuck," she told him, her fingers clutching his robe and curling around the fabric. "I'm right where I want to be; where I've always wanted to be."

It struck him then that her voice had lost its calmness; it was brittle now, as if weakened by unshed tears, and the sound of it made Chuck's chest burn with guilt. He inhaled a deep breath and forced himself to turn in her hold and lay his gaze on her. The moment he saw her eyes glistening with the hurt he was causing her, he succumbed to the urge to pull her close.

"I'm sorry," his apology came out in a strangled, worn out whisper, as, pressing his forehead against hers with his eyes shut, he guided a hand to her head. He grasped her hair and repeated the mortified sentence louder.

He opened his eyes in time to see a tear slid down Blair's cheek. She shook her head, pushing her palm against his chest. "Please, try to let it go," she murmured.

Could he? Could he stop fearing that one day she would have looked at her life and asked herself if spending it by his side had been a mistake?

Chuck didn't dare to give himself the answer that turned his mouth dry fright. He just kept stroking her hair slowly and, breathing her in at every motion of his hand, he tried to find in her closeness the courage to confess her the thought that had raised his anger. "They do have a point, Blair," he told her at last "You were married to a prince and now you're the wife of…" he let his voice drift into a pause of silence and exhaled a sharp sigh, "…of a parricide."

Suddenly Blair gasped; he felt her body tensing up in his hold and then pulling away him in a swift movement. In an instant she was staring at him, her eyes wide with a mix of dread and wrath. "Do not call yourself that way," she said. Her statement came out as something in between an order and a plea as she once again shook her head. "You didn't —"

The end of that sentence was never pronounced. Chuck suffocated the words she was about to utter – the ones he didn't want to hear – guided by an immediate instinct: he leaned in and, tugging her into his grip, he captured her parted lips in an impulsive kiss.

Immediately, as if crazed, his hands started moving frantically up her sides and he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth. He had lost every bit of the control he had been trying to keep. Each gesture and touch was the impellent answer to a desperate need of numbing whatever tangle of feelings that was making his heart beat so fast he could feel it in his throat; pain, fear and anger blurred together into lust. He yearned for oblivion as much as he ached for having her, and the line between the desires became ever less clear as he shoved the nightgown down her shoulders.

Blair did nothing to resist his rush of passion at first, but then, unexpectedly, she twitched in his hold. She tilted her head back interrupting the kiss and sighed. "Chuck, please," she mumbled breathlessly, glancing up at him with a pained look. "You're not guilty."

Again, Chuck stopped her from saying anything else by covering her mouth with his; he gave her another kiss, this time barely skimming his lips over hers, and pressed her body tighter against his chest. "Don't," he begged her in a hoarse whisper as his forehead came to rest against hers once more. As if to cling to her, he bent over, his open palms shuddering over her shoulders. "Not yet."

Blair's gaze searched his face for a long moment before her eyes went shut. All of sudden she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back with the same violent fervor that had guided him.

Her tacit, willful consent was a statement of understanding and Chuck's heart filled with relief and gratitude. In an avid, rapid movement, he slid his hands down her sides and then under her chemise. His fingers didn't waste time lingering on the hem of her panties as he usually enjoyed; instead, they grabbed the thin fabric and tore them away in one impetuous gesture.

Blair let out a moan. She clasped his hair at the contact and her teeth bit his bottom lip as she kept on kissing him. Chuck didn't feel the sharp pain in his mouth nor the metallic taste of blood; driven by the wildest desire and need, he cupped her bottom and lifted her up. Instantly her legs tangles around his waist; her mouth kept searching and finding his as he spun around and rushed his steps towards the door.

It was only when he pushed her back against the white and glided wood that she ducked her head, burying her face into his shoulder. She placed a kiss below his ear as she freed him from his robe and then, sliding her hands in between their bodies, she continued to skim her lips down his neck. At last, with a hasty gesture, she pulled down the pants of his pajama.

The sex was rough. Every motion was unrestrained and each thrust frantic with need. There was no gentleness about it; no loving words were uttered in between panting breaths and no deliberateness was conceded to pleasure. It was brief and intense and, after, neither of them moved or said anything for a while; they stayed still, Blair's legs still tangled around him and his forehead placed over the crook of his shoulder.

It was Chuck who spoke first. He guided a hand to her face and, placing his palm over her cheek, he stared at her; sweat damped her skin, making it glow, and her eyes were half closed, heavy with exhaustion. He took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he told her once again, though this time he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. He felt worn out, empty, and his hands were trembling.

Blair's eyelids fluttered open. Looking back at him, the corners of her mouth curled in a soft smile. "Don't be," she told him and shook her head slowly before bowing her head to kiss his shoulder. "I love you, Chuck," she whispered in his ear after a second.

Chuck sunk his nose into her hair, breathing her in. "I love you too," he replied tiredly.

Finally, closing his eyes, he allowed himself to back in the warm feeling of her fingers running slowly through his hair. She loved him and he ended up repeating himself that the rest didn't and couldn't matter.

Vienna, December 20th, 2012

It was the visceral consciousness that Chuck wasn't by her side that woke Blair up hours later. The feeling had insinuated into the dream she was having; it had creeped in the back of her mind like a gradually louder echo, till it had succeeded in bringing her back to reality.

Startled, she reached out to her sleep mask and, in a twitch, tossed it away as sat up against the headboard. Eyes wide open, she looked around the bedroom trying to find her husband. The room was almost pitch black, except for the pale morning light that had started to seep through the partially closed curtains covering the lateral windows. Standing in front of one of the two was Chuck, his back turned to her; in the dark, all Blair could catch of him was a shadowy shape, but that indistinct sight was enough to make her heave a long sigh of relief.

He hadn't gone away, she reminded herself, as she tried to swallow the sense of alarm that had tightened her throat.

In her dream, she and Chuck were dancing, drawing invisible circles around a crowded ballroom as they spun to the music of a minuet. Blair could sense the pressure of his hand against her side and the clutch of his fingers around her hand as he guided her steps; his lead, secure and strong, made her feel as light as feather and turned every person looking at them into blurred stains of color. Chuck was the only person she managed to see clearly; a younger Chuck, she had realized, with longer hair and a sharper smirk, dressed in a shimmering black suit. Smiling at his garish jacket, Blair had run her palm over the glittery fabric and stroked his arm.

It had been exactly in that moment that the dream had changed and a sensation of emptiness had started growing inside her. Suddenly the music had slowed down; grave notes had given it a melancholic rhythm and, following it, their movements had lost energy. In a moment, the packet ballroom had emptied out; it became darker at every step they took, just as Chuck's hold on her turned weaker with every unsteady twirl. When, finally, they had stopped, Blair could barely perceive his touch. Gripped by fear, she had shut her eyes and clung to him as if to keep him from vanishing.

But he had. Before she could realize, he had let go of her hand and his palm had slid away from her side in an almost imperceptible gesture, leaving her to find out that she had no voice to utter his name and beg him not to leave her.

Now that she was awake and calmer, Blair knew that in her vision she had danced with the last memory she had of her husband before he had lost that bit of youthful spirit he used to have as a boy to the weight of an impossibly tough life. A tortuous path of pain, of struggle and resilience, had left a heaviness in him: it was brittleness and wisdom; it was gravity and gloom, it was cynic disenchantment, but also a boundless ability to understand and forgive. In spite of his actual age, his soul seemed to own a complexity reached through a long existence,

But he was young. There was a long list of things he had no true knowledge of and that Blair had promised herself she would have brought into his life; things that could bring back the passion and the fierceness that had faded bit by bit from his eyes and that now only showed in brief glimpses. They had an entire future to build together and to stud with shared joys and sorrows, with experiences and, above all, with love.

She could grant him the warmth, the shelter and also the challenges of a family; she was going to be the mother of his child one day and build a home for them – made of dear people, habits, small gestures. She could nourish his great talent with her faith in him, support his ambition, push him to thrive. It was all in her power, and that awareness, which had once been a weight and an oppressing responsibility, had now the beauty and the importance of a privilege.

She loved Chuck with every thick scar and ever bleeding wound. She saw and felt them all; she knew them and, because she understood them, she respected them and even treasured them as parts of him. A few hours before, as she surrendered to the bittersweet pleasure of his need, she had once again been faced by the certainness and the firmness of her belonging. No matter how broken he was and how permanent and crippling was damage, it was in between the sharp edges and cracks of his heart that she fitted; maybe not without effort, but still perfectly. And it was her love for his darkness – for his harsh insecurities, for his deep fragility – that, by contrast, never made her lose the sight of the fact there was more in him: there was gentleness, devotion and a crave for love – for her love – that was as powerful as his fear of not deserving it.

Blair let her eyes linger on the shadow of Chuck's barely distinct figure one second more before she moved to the side of the bed he had left empty. The sheets were still warm. He hadn't been up for long, she realized, and smiled to herself wondering that, in her sleep, she had sensed his absence immediately.

She silently pushed the duvet back and slid out of bed. She wanted to approach him, but she didn't want to startle him; he seemed to be so absorbed in his thought that she knew he wouldn't have heard the faint sound of her steps, muffled by the carpets covering the floor. So she paced up to where he was standing deliberately and, when she got close enough, she gently touched his back to let him know she was behind him.

Still, the moment her fingers brushed over his robe, his shoulders shuddered with the gasp of surprise he let out. Once again, Blair's lips stretched in a tender smile. "It's just me," she told him in a whisper, as she finally put her arms around him, hugging him from behind.

Chuck reached out to his stomach and cupped her laced hands. "I didn't mean to wake you," he replied.

His voice had an uncharacteristic flat tone; it had the resigned calmness of exhaustion and the sound of it made Blair tighten her hold on him. She rubbed her forehead against his back. "You didn't," she answered. "Your absence did."

Heaving a sigh, Chuck looked over his shoulder. "Isn't it the same?" he wondered.

Blair turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of his profile softly illuminated by the glow of dawn before closing her eyes. "No, it isn't," she answered, as her forehead came to rest over his back once more. She placed a kiss in between his shoulders and then added: "I'd rather be woken by you than by the feeling you're not close to me. It's a dreadful sensation."

Chuck turned in her embrace. She let him capture a strand of her hair and, sighing contentedly at the delicate, reassuring touch, she waited for him to tuck it behind her ear before glancing up on him. Now that his face was so close, she could vaguely catch, despite the darkness, the hint of a smile stretching his lips and contrasting the somberness of his expression.

He brushed his fingers down her cheek. "I was close," he spoke quietly. "I just couldn't sleep. I had to get up."

Blair nodded her head. "I know," she uttered, as his arms wrapped her waist. She laid her head on the top of his chest and, for a couple of seconds, she didn't say anything.

Chuck's gestures were careful, even tentative. It was with hesitance that he ducked his head and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck; an innocent kiss, stripped of any trace of the unrestrained need he had held her with the night before. His arms didn't trap her firmly; they stayed laced around her as if unsure she wanted them to squeeze her in a tight hug. Insinuated in that wavering, Blair found the guilt he felt and, perceiving it, a lump of sadness tightened in her throat. Knowing that he thought of the way they had made love as something he had to be ashamed of caused her pain; there had been no shame in it, and it was up to her to let him see that.

Blair ran her palm up his back. "I was dreaming of you," she confessed, breaking the silence.

In another occasion, he would have smirked satisfied at that admission, full of self-satisfaction. In that moment, however, he limited himself to toy languidly with her hair that fell loose over her shoulders and shyly asked: "Was it a good dream or a bad dream?"

"It was both," Blair told him, as, with the tip of her fingers, she stroked his back tracing imaginary circles. "Being awake with you is so much better. It's real."

Slowly, Chuck pulled back from her, forcing her to raise her head from his chest and look up. Like in her dream, her hands slid to her sides and clung to them, but this time, in the moment she was actually living with him, he didn't slip away. He just bowed his head in front of her, lowering his eyes to escape even the slight sight of her gaze the dim light cutting through the darkness allowed him to see. "About last night…" he started in a low voice, "I'm —"

Before he could pronounce an apology she didn't want to listen to, Blair lifted her hand and pressed her index against his mouth, shutting him up. "Please, don't say you're sorry again," she said. "You do not get to apologize for making love to me, Chuck. Never."

He gently took her wrist, moving her finger from his lips. "It wasn't that," he answered, shaking his head. "It was something else. It was selfish."

Blair guided her hand down to his chest and clutched his robe in an abrupt, impatient movement. She couldn't stand the condemnation in his voice. "Stop it," she stated with conviction, grasping the fabric with such a strength that she could sense his skin underneath it. "It was love and it was trust; and it was beautiful for me."

Chuck remained silent for a moment. Then, letting out a sharp sigh, he pulled back from her a little. "You deserve better," he said. His voice was barely a murmur, as if the words had struggled to come out, and his hand, laid hesitantly on her hip, quivered with the tension of an unexpressed movement. He wanted to let go of her, she felt it, but he couldn't.

Blair pursed her lips, trying to contain the anger that had raised to her chest. The portray of their love that came out of his words was so false and unfair that it made her want to yell at him and scream that he had no right of turning the choices she was so proud of into the actions of a martyr, nor to dare to think she had sacrificed herself and her life by marrying him.

Still, she didn't. With a draining effort of patience, she had to remind herself that, in truth, it wasn't his trust in her that was vacillating and neither was his trust in their union. The sense of guilt that made him talk like that, she knew, was stronger than his ability to discern it and accept where it came from; shapeless and nameless, it spread like a dark stain and invaded each of his thoughts.

She couldn't brush it away; but she could do something to stop him from questioning the happiness he gave her.

Suddenly Blair parted from him. She walked past him and stopped by the window to reach out to the curtains and pull them open; she let the pale light in before turning to look at him, finally free from the limits of darkness.

When she did, she felt her constricting. The apathy of Chuck's expression was painful to look at, emphasized as it was by the strained pallor of his face; his gaze, heavy with exhaustion, seemed to be almost empty in its darkness, as he stared back at her. Blair had to stop herself from throwing her arms around his neck and force him back into her arms. It wouldn't have made a difference in that moment; the comfort of a gesture was only momentary and what he needed was to hear her out and let her bring some clarity into the self-loathe he had slipped into.

She took a deep breath and tried to collect the words she was going to utter and the firmness she would have put into pronouncing them and that would have obligated him to listen. "It's not about what you claim I deserve," she told him, her eyes immobile on him. In that short pause of silence that followed that statement, she took a step towards and placed herself in front of him again. "It's about what I want. And what I want is you: I want your best moments," she took his right hand and squeezed it before reaching out to his left with her free one, clasping it as well, "and I want your worst ones. It's what being married means."

Chuck's eyes had gone shut at her touch, desperate for a moment of rest. When he opened them again, though, Blair was relieved to see them locking with hers; he gazed at her without speaking for a second and then replied: "For better or for worse shouldn't be as hard as it is with me, Blair. Look at the situation I put you into..." his voice faded into a sigh, as, glancing down, he shook his head in a worn-out movement. "We had to get married to avoid a murder investigation and then fled to another continent."

His words had made her fingers curl tighter around his in a new surge of anger; yet, even that rebellious rush surrendered to the sadness hearing him so resigned and regretful caused her. Blair let go of his hand and reached out to his chin, lifting his head enough to bring him to look up. "You didn't force me to marry you, Chuck," she declared when she met his gaze again. The statement came out shaky with emotion and she paused to catch her breath. As she fought to hold back the tears piercing in her eyes, she slid her palm to his cheek, cupping his face. "No one did," she kept on. "I didn't do it out of necessity or out of pity. I married you because I love you and because I want to grow old you. Didn't you marry me for the same reasons?"

Suddenly, Chuck frowned. Looking back at her, he seemed surprised and somewhat hurt by the question. "Of course I did," he replied right away.

At the play of emotions now showing on his face, that her small provocation had aroused, a thin smile rose to Blair's lips. Stroking the side of his face, she said: "I'm well aware our life isn't going to be easy. But then again, all the best thing take effort."

Again, it took Chuck a few seconds to reply. He squeezed her hand before speaking, as his free one clutched her side. "But I can't fail at making you happy," he told her in a whisper.

"Then don't try to decide what I can and I can't take," Blair answered. The touch of her fingers on his jaw was slow and gentle, but her voice was now steady and calm in its determination. "Don't put me on a pedestal. It's not where I belong. I belong by your side, whatever that implies; it's where I feel the strongest and the most powerful. And it's the only place where I can truly be happy."

His stunned expression made her smile by instinct. She had sworn unconditional love to him before, more than once, and the fact that, in spite of the many confirms, her vow never ceased to surprise him gave her a tender, affectionate feeling of melancholy. In the subtle sadness of her smile was the awareness that it wouldn't have been the last time she repeated those brave words. In every future scenario she could picture, Chuck needed to hear them again and again.

Eventually, the only answer he managed to give her didn't come through his voice. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes wide open with astonishment, and then, in an unsure movement, he clumsily pulled her closer. He kissed her temple and bowed his head to sink his nose into her hair, breathing her in.

At the touch of his lips, Blair's smile trembled with emotion, as she let a tear roll down her cheek. She could feel the gratitude in his gesture as clearly as she had sensed his fear and the weight of his guilt; it was sincere and deep as his breaths while, wrapping his arms around her, her held her close to his chest. She closed her eyes and, embracing him as well, she told herself she would have never stopped reminding him that her love for him was absolute, categorial as the choice she had made when she had accepted to marry him.

Vienna, December 22nd, 2012

The following two days went by more serenely. Chuck and Blair enjoyed the city at their pace; strolls along a snow-clad Ringstrasse to admire the beautiful palaces overlooking the boulevard and concerts attended at the Musikverein were spaced out by hours spent alone in their suite and intimate meals consumed in reserved rooms of the restaurants they selected. It was all done with a leisureliness and calmness that normally didn't belong to their habits, but that inevitably ended up marking their short stay; they drank hot Viennese coffee in traditional cafés, relished in the atmosphere of the old imperial side of Vienna and took the time to listen to classical music in silence, exchanging glances over chocolate desserts.

It was a pleasant, reassuring compromise between need and desire, that Chuck accepted by allowing himself to rely on Blair's ability to understand his limits. At some point in the future, he promised himself, he would have brought her back there and made sure to give her a full experience of the city, but for those days he let her decide that dancing to waltz in their suite was as magical as doing it in a fancy ball room.

On the last day of their stay, Chuck and Blair visited the Klimt collection at the Upper Belvedere Museum. They had spent the morning shopping all around the Goldenes Quartier and, when they crossed the door to the room dedicated Klimt's portrays, they were dressed in the coordinate clothes they had purchased a few hours before.

"Don't you adore 'The Kiss'?" Blair wondered with a sigh as they stopped before the painting, which stood in isolation on a stark, black wall.

Chuck, who had visited the museum before and was more enchanted by the glistening of her eyes as she gazed at the golden details of the figures with a dreamy expression, tightened his hold around her waist and pulled her a bit closer. He reached out to her hair with his free hand and tucked a strand behind her ear, as, leaning in, he whispered: "Not as much as I adore kissing you."

Blair rolled her eyes, though her lips stretched in a smile. She turned her head slightly to eye him. "Is sex really all you can think about?"

Chuck snorted. "Can you honestly tell me aren't you thinking about it too?" he retorted in a low voice. He shot a glance at The Kiss before looking back at her again. "You're staring at two lovers covered in gold and stylized sexual symbols." He raised his eyebrows at her. "I would be surprised if sex wasn't the first thing on your mind right now."

His smirk sharpened when he saw her cheeks blush. He watched pleased as she inhaled a deep breath, trying to stop herself from biting her bottom lip in embarrassment. "Chuck, the painting is about intimacy," she stated, giving him a resolute look, "and love."

Again, Chuck smiled slyly before ducking his head closer to her ear. "And mutual desire," he went on, making sure to speak so quietly that only she could hear him. He brushed his lips under her lobe and, when he was about to place a kiss on the side of her neck, he said: "It's about a fusion: of symbols," he moved his mouth to her jaw, "of bodies…"

His intention was to reach her lips by pronouncing the word souls, but Blair kissed him before he had the time to utter anything. She shoved her hand into his hair and grasped the strands as she pushed her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. She only parted from him when she was breathless.

A smile, a barely hinted smile that had something naughty about it, tilted up the corners of her lips, making Chuck smirk again. The few people in the room with them were doing their best not to stare at them but, now that she had given in to her instinct, Blair didn't seem to mind anymore.

He squeezed her waist as she guided her hand to his head and fixed his hair. "You know what that smile reminds me of?" he asked her.

Blair, now running her palms over his chest to smooth his jacket, looked up and eyed him with curiosity. "Enlighten me, Bass."

Chuck nodded his head towards a point behind her back. When she turned to see what her husband was talking about, her eyes found a smaller painting on the wall at their side. It was Judith I.

Blair's eyebrows furrowed in a frown. "Judith?" she wondered confused, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Yes," he replied, as he settled himself next to her. "She's a fierce queen," he explained, pointing at the woman portrayed with a wave of his hand. "She has just seduced and beheaded a man and yet she looks proud."

Blair was silent for a couple of seconds. Then, taking a step closer to the wall, she commented: "She does seem pleased holding Holofernes' head."

"She is," Chuck replied, wrapping his arm back around her. He averted his eyes from the painting to lay them on her and, as his gaze lingered over her profile, he kept on: "That's why she's so sensual; because she's aware of her power. She won't do anything to hide it."

"Why does it make you think of me?" Blair asked after another pause. She had turned her head as well from Judith and she was now staring at him.

Chuck brought his free hand to her face and stroked her cheek with his finger. "Because of what you said the other night about not wanting to be put on a pedestal," he told her, as his expression grew more serious. "Because of the bravery of your decisions. I am, after all, one of those choices."

A different smile stretched Blair's lips at his words; a calm one, tinged with a pale touch of wisdom. "I told you," she said, "it's with you that I truly feel powerful. I was a princess on a pedestal for a while and I hated every minute of it. Having to win people's approval, having to be kind and approachable..." letting out a sigh, she shook her head. "It was exhausting, Chuck. It was like living in a cage. But with you I can always be who I am."

"You're a queen," Chuck concluded. He held her tighter, turning her in his embrace so that he could face her and catch the beauty of her expression fully: she looked proud and fierce as the Judith in the painting. "You'll never have to worry about being affable. You'll rule over our world with the admiration and the fear you inspire; higher than anybody else, unreachable. I promise you."

It wasn't what people would have called a promise of love, but it was for them. When Blair kissed Chuck again, she couldn't help but thinking that life spent with him was going to be a blaze of glory, even just for the fact that it was going to be built on the certainness that he was the only one capable of understanding her completely – and wanting her with no exceptions.

Notes:

[1] The chapter has been ready for a few days, but I waited today to post to make Limoversary a bit more special for those who read my stories. I wanted to apologize about the long time it took me to update. This chapter has been especially hard to write: it's long and detailed and coming up with a characterization that satisfied me wasn't easy. Also, I've started university about two months ago, and I have a bit less time to dedicate to fanfictions. I'm still very much involved with Chuck and Blair, though, and I won't stop writing. Hopefully I'll be able to update In The Real Of The Basses around Christmas.

[2] Locations, outfits, food ecc all exist. I'm trying to be as realistic as possible. As usual, you find all the details on my Tumblr blog, under the tag Journey To Glory. Feel free to contact me in you have any questions regarding the story or the chapter.

[3] I suggest you to take a look at the two paintings I mentioned (Judith I and The Kiss, by Klimt). They're breathtaking! [4] Again, thanks to my dear Daphne for her support.

[ecotone99]

[HM, SP] No-Star Reviews

Joel struggled to find the right words.

He’d written so much so often lately that it had become difficult not to describe his thoughts but to piece together sentences that differentiated them from one another.

“Incompetent,” he typed, then paused.

No, scratch that, he thought. Delete, delete, delete.

“Negligent,” came out through the flurry of clicks.

Too easy to rebut, he thought.

“Malignant and diseased,” he typed as a sneer crossed his face and tears spilled over his lip and into his mouth.

He’d found the perfect words with the perfect weight.

He hit the enter key and felt a wave of exhilaration that made his face flush.

Just two months and more than a hundred thousand words ago, Joel decided he’d had enough of his mother, his boss and what felt like a million others walking across his back each day. Any man with an ounce of pride would never have taken the abuse so long, which meant there was no reason to take it a day longer, Joel thought as he stared at his paunchy reflection in a mirror spotted with flecks of toothpaste.

“I will build my own empire. Today,” he whispered through gritted teeth then wiped away the evidence of his sobbing and put in eye drops hoping to avoid tipping off his mother that he’d been crying again.

But the groundbreaking had to wait. Eight or nine hours, at least. Mr. Figginbottom promised Joel he’d be fired if he called out again and Joel was sure the octogenarian wasn’t lying this time. His boss’s 50-something nephew had recently moved back to town, surely after being kicked out of his own mother’s house after yet another failed stint at a rehab, and Mr. Figginbottom was looking for any excuse to give away Joel’s gig. And while no man ever became rich selling pool supplies for a man who couldn’t even become rich owning a small chain of pool supply stores, Joel needed at least one more paycheck to cover his own startup expenses.

The windfall came sooner than expected, though. Joel had barely clocked in when the phone at the front desk rang. INTERNAL, it said.

“Checkout, this is Joel,” he answered.

“Joel, this is Figs. Can you come back and see Linda in my office?”

“It’s a little busy up here, actually. There’s a woman who was asking Roger for help with chlorine tablets and as soon as she asked, two more people walked in …”

“Joel, I want to make clear that I wasn’t asking a question, I was giving an order,” the man on the line said.

A long silence took hold before Mr. Figginbottom tired of waiting.

“Joel, I said …”

“Yessir, be right back,” Joel said and slammed down the receiver.

Joel was surprised to see Mr. Figginbottom in the office.

“I thought Linda was supposed to be here,” Joel said from the doorway, still holding the knob.

“She’s right there,” Mr. Figginbottom said, pointing to a blonde woman holding a clipboard sitting on the small sofa hidden behind the door.

“Hi, Joel,” she said warmly as she leaned into view.

“Son, sit down,” Mr. Figginbottom said.

Joel had no idea what this could be about but he wondered if it wasn’t his opportunity to preemptively quit. To tell Mr. Figginbottom this was the worst job he had ever had working for the biggest idiot he had ever met who owned the worst company in the world.

“Joel, we saw the tape,” Mr. Figginbottom said. “I’ll be honest, I’m half tempted to beat you myself first but Linda here says that’s not going to look good for my insurance rates, so I’m just going to tell you to get out of here right now.”

Joel was stuck on the part about the tape when he realized there was more to process.

“Joel, actually, there are some papers we have to go over,” Linda said as she began pulling some documents from beneath the clipboard’s hinge. Mr. Figginbottom cocked his head, a little perturbed the office manager’s politeness had sucked the vinegar out of the rant he was building up to.

“Wait, what tape?” Joel asked.

Mr. Figginbottom looked at Linda, who turned back to Joel and opened her mouth to speak before being cut off.

“Joel, there’s a security camera in the back of the building,” Mr. Figginbottom said as he leaned across the desk, face reddening as the position pulled his shirt taught and made the rolls of fat hang out over his collar more than usual. “We started getting complaints from the closer that someone was blowing mud behind the dumpster. We looked at the camera, and by God, if that wasn’t you, Joel.”

That much was true. Joel had always hated going to the bathroom at work. Or rather, he hated going to the bathroom in the bathroom at work. It was a single-stall, unisex bathroom the employees shared with customers. It was usually clean enough — Joel often had to take care of that himself — but it was a cacophonous tile room that sent reverberations of even the gentlest tinkle throughout the store. There was a smaller but better-insulated facility in the back room but that was reserved solely for Mr. Figginbottom, who had “the I.B. syndrome,” as he’d often say unburdened with the shame Joel carried for such talk. The way Joel saw it, he had no other choice but to go behind the dumpster.

“Son, are you even listening?” Mr. Figginbottom asked as he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his plaid western shirt and wiped the beading sweat off his bald head.

Mr. Figginbottom leaned back in the chair again and swallowed hard, covering his mouth.

“I’m nauseous right now thinking about that video, you …”

“Fig,” Linda interrupted, “we talked about the paperwork for Joel? Remember the paperwork?”

The rest was a bit of a blur. Crying now for the second time in an hour, Joel nodded along as Linda told him about how he could sign up for COBRA Health Insurance and how he’d have 10 days to return all three of his work shirts, properly washed and pressed, please.

“And you’ve accrued 32 vacation hours that we’ll be paying you out for today along with the rest of your scheduled hours for this week,” Linda said as she handed him a check in exchange for the clipboard full of documents he’d been signing.

It was 9:25 a.m. Monday and Joel held $388 in his hands. The tears started to dry as he realized this was his seed money. Mr. Figginbottom had inadvertently become an angel investor.

Thirty minutes later, Joel was a new man. He paid his mother $300 for two months’ rent in advance and he was a free man for the next 60 days. Nothing could get in the way of his empire now.

First, though, Joel needed to get something off his chest. He pulled out his laptop and signed in to a Facebook account under the name Colby Stimpson, a chiseled man with perfect hair whose stock photos Joel stole for an account he used to stalk all the girls he knew a decade ago high school who wouldn’t accept a friend request from his real account.

“If I could give Fig’s Pools no stars, I would,” Joel typed into the review field as Colby Stimpson. “It is run by a fat and old man who loves having power over everyone for no reason other than he has the IB syndrome … aka DIHARREA! He also loves his employee Linda so much he has sex with her at work without his wife. I suggest you try a different pool company that cares for its customers because this is a no star place with an owner who could drop dead and anyone could care less!”

Joel slept as well as he had in months that night and awoke at 2 p.m. thanks to the blackout curtains he bought the afternoon before. It was an investment in himself, he thought as he watched his newfound nest egg dip to about $50.

He rolled over and picked up his phone to open /r/hentai but saw a stack of text message alerts on his lock screen, all from Roger at the pool store.

“Can’t believe it. So crazy!” the latest message read. “I guess it happened last night when he got home,” another read as the story unraveled in reverse as Joel scrolled to the top of the text chain.

“Figs is DEAD!” the first message said.

“LOL,” Joel replied, following up with a laughing emoji.

The next few days were a mix of emotions for Joel. He had intended to spend them building an empire of some kind — maybe an app company or a place that sold graphic novels and adult novelties, he thought — but instead found himself watching anime and wondering whether it was right to feel so vindicated by Mr. Figginbottom’s death. Confused by his own emotions, he left the house for the first time since being fired and walked the two blocks to the Stop-N-Shop.

He filled up the handbasket with a dozen Little Debbie snack cakes and as many Rockstar energy drinks before throwing a one-pound back of pretzels on top of it all.

“Forty-six eighty-eight,” the man at the counter said after scanning it all.

It seemed like a lot of money for groceries but it was enough to let Joel avoid leaving the house again for a least three or four days.

The card reader let out a flat honk. “Declined,” the man behind the counter said.

“Let me try it again,” Joel said.

HONK.

“Do you have another way to pay?” the man asked Joel.

“No, but there’s at least $50 in the account,” he said.

“It’s declined. Do you have cash?”

“No, but there’s money in there.”

“Then you’ll have to go to the bank to get your cash out,” the man said, pulling the handbasket across the counter to his side.

“If there was negative stars this place would get them all,” Colby Stimpson’s review read. “They won’t do business with their best shoppers and it means they will LOOSE THEM ALL! Bad customer service = never shopping there again because of the experience. Totally negligent and discrimination from the clarks with no respect. I wouldn’t give a rip if this place burned down tomorrow. Shop at a better place who cares about customers such as Murphy’s.”

Joel’s hunger strike didn’t last long. He woke up the next morning with an empty stomach and a headache so bad he winced. He needed sugar and caffeine. He put on his Crocs, pulled $5 in quarters from the old coffee tin his mother used to collect coins and started his trek to the Stop-N-Shop. He had barely turned the first corner when he saw the black smoke rising from the other side of the strip mall. He picked up his pace excited at the prospect of seeing something burning down and turned the last corner wheezing from the brisk walk to find a few beams and a row of gas pumps covered in ash where the Stop-N-Shop was a day earlier.

The fire must have started hours ago because only one fire truck remained and its sirens weren’t even on. How the sound didn’t wake him up just two blocks away was a mystery but the store caught fire sometime during the night and there was nothing but rubble left.

Joel was dismayed by his first thought. “I’ll have to walk another six blocks to the next store.”

His second thought put him in a better mood: “I did this.”

Joel spent the rest of the afternoon pacing his room taking mental note of everyone and every company that had ever wronged him, no matter how minor a slight.

“I wish there were zero stars instead of one star but it’s thanks to everyone gets a trophy in this society,” read Colby Stimpson’s screed on the Old Navy Facebook page. “The employees at this particular location are very judgemental and have no interest in finding what is the truth from lying customers. They have a changing room that is just a curtain and if you are man and are shopping there and have to try on clothes you can’t knock on a curtain. And when you open it and there’s a girl in there the employees at this location will say the cops are coming even though you followed all their own rules. I hope they all get laid off for being INCOMPETENT!”

Joel stayed up for hours on end posting in an almost fugue state. Long-forgotten memories came flooding back.

A Hormel Chili can that had some kind of root vegetable in it. “Can you say health codes? What is going on in that factory?”

A grocery store that was always out of his favorite pasta sauce. “Disappointing to say the least. This store needs to be shut down ASTAT!”

A Target whose manager once refused to let him return a package of briefs that were too small. “This store is a scam! How would you even know if they fit if you can’t try them on but then you can’t return them once you put them on? The BBB needs to investigate this illegitimate business.”

In the weeks that followed came a reign of terror. Inspectors shut down canneries for unsanitary conditions. Shopping malls closed, taking out all of their tenants at once. Stock prices dropped and stores were closed after bad earnings calls.

From his fingertips to God’s ears.

As time went on, Joel realized it was easier than he first realized. He hardly had to mention a slight or even why he was offering a one-star rating. Just posting an inane comment in the reviews was enough to cause some damage.

“This hammer looks weak and dumb. One star crap,” Colby Stimpson’s review read. A week later, a pallet of ball-peen hammers crushed a warehouse worker at an Amazon fulfillment center 1,200 miles away.

The allure of this new power kept Joel so occupied that he rarely left his room. He barely had time to eat between screeds and he had lost almost 20 pounds in a month. He had only seen his mother twice in that time, so he hadn’t noticed she, too, was quickly losing weight until she collapsed in the shower.

Joel’s fingers tapped on his knees, as much a nervous tick as a habit now as he sat next to his mother’s hospital bed. There were machines and tubes keeping her stable but the doctor warned him they were a temporary fix at best. Days, maybe hours, were all she had left.

Joel awoke the next morning to a nurse sitting next to him in the waiting room her a hand on his arm.

“Are you Mr. J. Porter? Annie’s son?” she asked as Joel sat up and nodded. “I’m sorry, sir, but your mother has passed.”

Joel spent the next two hours walking home to clear his mind and subconsciously avoiding his destination by taking the long way through a park. He sat at a picnic table for a moment and felt the tears cut chilly trails down his face in the crisp fall air. Phone in hand, he opened Facebook and searched for the hospital’s page.

“I wish I could surgically remove stars from the ratings because the doctors and employees here are MALIGNANT AND DISEASED and all their tools look more like they are from 1819 not 2019,” read Colby Stimpson’s review. “This place is so filthy I would not be surprised if they cause a new plague.”

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