#>They die as I fail to renove their checks

[stag-beetle-and-skeleton-bloom]

Starting my learning of competitive pokemon and resisting against the very very strong desire to only ever use Mons with a setup sweeper/wallbreaker set

[sparklingchan]

A Duel of Hearts || Kim Seungmin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Seungmin Word Count: 5k+ Warnings: Suggestive, strong language(ig), mention of suicide (not the main characters). Genre: Royal AU, Friends to Lovers, Dark Academia, Angst mixed with fluff. Description: Caught in a dilemma of affection, Kim Seungmin, a prince, finds himself drawn to you. There was but one obstacle to his pursuit —you've set a single condition for all potential suitors: no royal lineage. A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. Idk why but Seungmin has this Dark Academia kind of vibe so I tried to incorporate that here. Hope you guys like it! More to come<3 Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated) Here's the link.

You like to believe that your new dorm room is starting to grow on you.

It wasn't anything like your room back in your parents' house of course; but over the past twelve months, you'd renovated your dorm room enough to feel at home.

You'd replaced the light blue curtains with grey ones, swapped the single candle stand with a lantern to help you study better at night, put on a white table cloth and the list goes on.

A knock on your door pulls your attention.

It must be Wendy, you think to yourself, walking toward the door.

Correction: your only friend Wendy.

"Gosh, I really hate this academy, y/n." She walks in complaining, "I cannot believe they gave me a B in geography. I love geography. I cannot believe they'd ruin my overall grade like that."

"What happened?" You ask, closing the door behind her.

"I don't know! I will deal with this later, anyway," she says, fishing out a note from the pocket of her blazer. "I'm here to discuss a more pressing matter."

"What's that?"

"Of course, it's one of your lovers, y/n. I have two more lover letters in my backpack. Do you need them?"

You half chuckle and half sigh, taking the note from her and tearing it into bits.

"Ouch." Wendy says, staring at you, "Tell me y/n, it's been over a year since you joined the academy. All the boys here would die to even see you across the hallway yet you've kept the door to your heart locked. Why?"

"I am not not open to having a relationship. I just dislike how most of these men who pursue me are of royal blood. And if there's anything I despise most is royalty. That letter you gave me right now? It was from the Duke's son. It's his third letter in a row. That boy just doesn't know when to stop." You press your hand to your forehead, stressed.

Wendy nods her head, "Yeah, he is an annoying brat, I'll give you that, but y/n, I really don't understand your dislike towards royalty? Any girl out there would love to be pursued by royal suitors, including myself."

You smile in response, "It's a secret."

As always, Wendy just chuckles and doesn't push you to answer further because really, you don't know what you'll do if you ever have to explain yourself. It's a secret you rarely even discuss with yourself.

"Come on, we'll be late for our afternoon class." You say and walk towards the door, already tired of the day ahead of you.

*

“But Professor, do you not think that the first king of Taru was a horrible person morally? I mean, he did kill all of his wives when they failed to birth a son.”

If there is anyone in this academy who you think hates you to the core is your History Professor. The amount of times you’d ask him a question and he’d reply very vaguely, never answering to the point was insane. So naturally, you had developed a habit of asking him odd questions just to spite him.

Your Professor looks at you, almost angrily, and answers, “We are no one to judge a historical figure. Miss y/n.”

“But sir, you are portraying him as a role model to the class. Don’t you think that’s wrong? As you said, we are no one to judge him.”

Your professor hisses through gritted teeth and turns towards the board, not bothering to answer you. A subtle smile finds your lips.

“So, class as I was saying. The first King of this country- Taru- built the longest bridge in -”

“Excuse me, sir?” A hand shoots up from among the students followed by a voice, “May I answer Miss y/n’s question please?”

Your professor rubs his temple and sighs, nodding, “Go ahead, Mister Seungmin.”

You turn your head up to look at the owner of the voice, and much to your surprise, it is Kim Seungmin. He’s one of the quieter kids in the class but you’ve worked on a few projects together so you know that there’s more depth to him than just being the quiet kid by the window seat.

“Y/n, I think we could still look up to the King as a leader. Yes, he was ruthless to his wives but we don’t need to look up to him as a husband. He was, on the other hand, a great leader who led his country to become one of the greatest in the world, second to none.”

“Well, does that answer your question?” The professor asks and you nod, bowing towards Seungmin. He bows back.

The professor teaches the class for an hour more, letting you guys dismiss after his daily warning of, “You'll be going to universities next year so do work hard this year,”

You gather all your things and walk out of the class, stomach growling, almost begging you to make your way to the dining area for lunch.

For lunch, the menu rarely changes except on holidays.

And in all honesty, you’re tired of having chicken stew with rice everyday since you stepped foot in this academy, but the other options are extremely limited so you join the line of hungry and tired students, complaining about how difficult this year has been.

Once you have your plate of rice and stew, you seat on one of the empty benches and begin to gobble up the rice like there’s no tomorrow.

“Um, y/n? Mind if I join you?”

“Seungmin?” you ask, almost surprised, “Have a seat, please.”

Seungmin mutters a small ‘thanks’ and claims the seat in front of you, placing his backpack on the sides.

“So what have you been up to?” he asks to break the ice. It seems like you’re more focused on the rice in front of you than him.

“Eating?” you chuckle, “What’s up with you? How’s your preparation for University?”

Seungmin, licks his bottom lip, deep in thought.

How was his preparation for university going, really? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even remember the last time he opened his books after school.

In fact, lately, his mind has been occupied with something entirely different-you.

You, who acts so indifferent to the rest of the people yet helped Seungmin when he was almost failing a chemistry project evaluation.

You, who says she has no friends yet packs extra food from home for Wendy.

You, who says she is having a hard time adjusting to the academy yet she’s his favorite person here.

How could you not be on his mind?

“Eh, it’s okay. I guess.” Seungmin scratches the back of his head. “How’s yours?”

“Not really well, to be honest . If only that duke’s son would stop sending me those stupid letters, my life would be a lot more peaceful.” you say and it’s true that those letter have been nothing short of a nuisance since you came back from the semester break. You respect his feelings, but you’re not obligated to like him back. Hell, you’ve never even spoken to the man. “He’s so persistent, it scares me, really.”

Seungmin could feel his anger building up. Of course he knows you have quite a few admirers. Even some of his friends are in that crowd. But Seungmin likes to think he always had the upper hand.

Yet he feels annoyed, offended at the thought that someone was pursuing you to the point of fear.

“He might be a duke’s son but he isn’t behaving like one.” Seungmin comments.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. All of these aristocrats and royals believe that the world is at their disposal. They could just command it and everything would go according to them. It’s ridiculous. I’m so glad you’re not from a royal line or else we wouldn’t have been having this conversation.” you say and Seungmin’s world stands still.

You think he’s not from a royal family?

You didn’t know who he really was?

He almost wants to tell you the truth, that he, in fact, is the descendant of the very king you were talking about in History today. But he chooses to remain silent. He’s enjoying your company way too much to ruin it in one day.

“Yeah, thank god for that.” Prince Seungmin replies.

*

The next few days pass by in the blink of an eye and the academic pressure gets worse.

"Wendy, could I borrow your lantern? Mine is broken, I think." You ask Wendy one afternoon.

The sun brightens up the inside of Wendy's room.

"Yeah, sure." She passes you her lantern, "I have a spare one. Going to the library?"

You nod.

There's no better place to study than the library. Especially on such a warm and cozy afternoon when everyone just wants to take a nap.

"I'll see you at dinner then?"

"Sure thing."

You walk the corridors, fiddling with your pockets, making sure you'd taken all your stationary. It would be a hassle to walk back to your room again.

As soon as you enter the library, the sounds of the world as if disappear. Not even the tapping of pens could be heard without focusing hard.

You find a suitable seat for yourself by the window and settle down there.

The library feels colder than your room and you're grateful for it. At least you wouldn't be sleepy now.

"Someone's working hard, I see." A teasing voice whispers from behind, "May I join you?"

Seungmin’s voice, much to your surprise, brings a smile to your face.

"Sure." You say, shy like a kid in kindergarten.

He claims the seat across you, setting his books and stationary on the table.

And for the next three hours, the only sound you hear from his side is that of his breathing. Even and steady.

He's busy reading a book and his eyes are focused on the pages, never once wavering anywhere else.

He's quite sincere, you realize.

The sun sets and the students light up their lanterns and immediately go back to studying. Seungmin glances at you for a second, his lips curving into a soft smile. You smile back, albeit shyly.

Hours pass by and you know it's almost time for dinner because your stomach is growling. Louder than ever.

"Y/n," Seungmin speaks to you, putting his book down, "Want to have some warm Noodles? There's a new stall in town which sells delicious noodles."

You contemplate for a second before agreeing with a smile.

"Noodles sound amazing right now."

The both of you pick up your lanterns and walk out the main gate into the streets of the town.

While the town is busy and bustling with activities during the day, at nightfall the town comes to a standstill. Something you've always liked.

"It's not in the market square, I presume." You say as Seungmin navigates through the lanes of the market.

"No," He replies, "But it is quite near to the market."

After a five minute walk from the market square, you finally see an old bamboo hut in the distance, dim and quiet.

But the moment Seungmin and you are seated on one of the wooden benches, you're as if in a trance. The aroma of herbs and spices and chicken broth is nothing like you'd ever felt before.

"Grandma, we'll have two bowls of noodles with a side of Kimchi, please." Seungmin says.

"Sure thing, son." The woman replies with a twinkle in her eyes.

"You're a regular here. " You say to Seungmin, looking around the interiors of the stall. "It's cozy and the noodles smell amazing already."

"Oh, y/n, wait till you taste them. It'll be like nothing you'd ever had before."

And true to his words, the moment you eat those noodles, flavors burst in your mouth.

It is a perfect blend of sweet and salty, but the black pepper adds the perfect spice to the combination of flavors.

"Seungmin, this is amazing!" You say, taking a second bite. "We have to come back here again!"

He can only chuckle at your reaction. If you'd say the word, he'd bring you to this place everyday. Without fail.

The two of you eat quietly, only sharing a glance of amazement once in a while.

"I'll pay, y/n." Seungmin offers once you guys are done eating, bellies full.

"No! Let me pay." You get up immediately and walk up to the old lady.

Seungmin can only shake his head at you.

"How much will that be, grandma?" You ask, taking out your purse.

"Oh, its on the house today. " the lady says, much to your surprise, "Master Seungmin brought his girlfriend out for a date at our place. I couldn't take money from you today."

Seungmin and you stare at each other, wide eyed and speechless and hearts racing.

"Grandma! She's not my girlfriend! We're classmates." Seungmin says, the tip of his ears bright red.

You nod, shyly, "There's nothing of that sort going on between us!"

Grandma smiles as she pours soup into a bowl, "Well, not yet maybe. I have an eye for things like that, you see."

When you exit the hut, Seungmin remains quite, his lips pursed in a line. It's truly endearing to see him flustered like that.

"Well, that was awkward." You say, trying to lighten up the mood.

Seungmin nods, rubbing the back of his head, "Sorry about that. I don't know why she'd say that."

"No, no, it's okay. She's an adorable woman." You say.

The rest of the walk passes by in silence.

For some reason, you always find yourself in these silent moments with Seungmin. But you like the silence. It's calming, not uncomfortable.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks as the two of you reach the entrance of your dorm building.

You nod. You're about to turn around when he pulls you in for a gentle embrace.

Your heart stops. Your breathing stops. The earth stops.

Without even meaning to, you find yourself melting into the embrace.

The next second, Seungmin pulls back and walks towards his dorm, not even saying a word.

And you're standing there, mouth hanging open.

What are these nervous sensations Seungmin is making you feel?

*

"So why were you not at dinner yesterday?" Wendy asks the next morning, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, "Were you with a boy?"

You try to calm the heat spreading to your cheeks, "Kind of. But it wasn't anything like what you think. I swear. We were studying together and then he asked if I wanted to try a new food stall in town. That's all."

And then he hugged you Goodnight. And you haven't been able to forget the way his body felt against yours.

"And who exactly is 'we'?" Wendy asks again, the tone of suspiciousness still present in her words.

"Seungmin and I." You say.

Wendy stares at you, flabbergasted.

Seungmin and you?

You went out on a supposed platonic date with a Prince?

"Y/n, Seungmin is-" Wendy's words are cut off by the ringing of the hourly bell, indicating that your classes are about to begin.

"Wendy, I'll tell you all about it. Promise. See you later." You say and disappear into the crowd of hurrying students but Wendy doesn't move.

Wendy has a different plan in her mind. Something she considers more important than attending boring lectures.

*

"Kim Seungmin, can I see you for a second?" Wendy drags Seungmin by his arm the moment he steps out of his dorm building.

He stares at her, confused.

He didn't have a class yet; he was just stepping out to get some breakfast. Where was she dragging him early in the morning?

"What's wrong?" He asks.

Wendy and him have never even talked with each other before so why this sudden interest?

Wendy stands in front of him, eyes full of doubt. Her hands rest on her hips.

"Are you trying to mess with y/n?" She asks flatly.

Seungmin is taken aback, "What? No! Of course not!"

Why would she even think that? Seungmin almost feels angry.

"Then why are you hanging out with her late at night and why is she oblivious to you being of royal blood?"

Seungmin sighs, "Okay, Wendy, listen. I'm not trying to mess with her or anything. But its true I haven't told her about my family yet. And I will tell her. But I just want her to know me for me. Before she starts to dislike me just because I'm of royal blood. Do you think I'm wrong?"

Wendy thinks for a second before replying, "Well, you don't mean any harm. But...I think you should tell her about yourself. I mean if you're trying to get her to like you back, might as well be honest about your life."

Seungmin’s eyes are wide with shock. How did she even know about Seungmin’s crush on you? Did one of his friends spread the rumor? Did she try to spy on him?

"Hey, don't look so surprised, your majesty." sarcasm drips from her words, "Everyone here knows you like her. We have eyes, you know?"

Seungmin doesn't reply, embarrassed. Of course it is hot gossip when a prince falls in love, isn't it?

People have written sagas and books and poems about it. What is a little academy gossip compared to that?

*

You find out Seungmin hanging out with a female friend the a few days later during lunch, and you try to shake off an uncomfortable feeling.

"Seungmin, could I speak to you for a second?"

The girl looks at you, from head to toe and nods her head. "Hey, she's quite pretty, Seungmin."

Seungmin sighs, "Oh, shut up, Sojong. Don't you have a class?"

His ears are red again, like how they were back at the noodles shop.

"I'm going now anyways. Bye sweethearts!" The girl walks off with a smile, and you're left confused.

"Don't mind her. She's my cousin. An idiot cousin, if I may add."

It feels as if a weight is lifted off of your chest. Your lips automatically curve into a smile.

"I didn't know you had a cousin in the academy."

"Yeah, well. Now you do. So what's going on?" He replies.

"Um.. did Wendy say something to you a few days ago? About you going to the noodles stall with me?"

Seungmin chuckles, "Oh yeah. But it's alright. She's your friend. I get that she's quite protective of you."

You smile, "Thanks for understanding. But , umm...Seungmin, she also might have implied that you kind of want to go out with me."

Seungmin’s soul almost leaves his body. Wendy could not have shut up about it, could she? Now you probably think Seungmin is some kind of creep trying to get into your pants.

"Hey, it's okay. Wendy always exaggerates everything and she wants me to get a boyfriend desperately so I understand if you didn't say anything of that sort to her. She's not very good at conveying messages." You say.

"But I did." Seungmin says, mustering all his courage, "I did say that. To her. And it's totally okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I really do. "

You almost feel like laughing.

You haven't been able to get him out of your mind for the past few days. And he thinks you don't like him?

The both of you had been busy with different classes and tests and projects. The few glances and greetings you shared with him during lunch would become the highlight of your day. And he thinks you wouldn't want to go out with him?

Impossible.

"I do, though. I'm open to the idea of going out with you."

Seungmin was not prepared for that answer. He was sure he'd get rejected, but here you were, looking all shy and sweet while confessing to liking him back?

"Um..so how about tomorrow night? There's a nice restaurant with live music and all. I could book us a table there."

You try to supress the grin that is trying to claw its way onto your face.

"Sounds great. See you then."

"Yeah, see you." He replies, heart hammering hard against his chest.

*

The night finally comes and you find Seungmin standing just outside of your dorm building.

He wears a black long coat and pants, paired with a high collared white shirt and a rose in his hands.

Your legs feel weak the moment your eyes meet. And the gravity of the situation finally dawns on you.

By tonight, Kim Seungmin might become your boyfriend. He's handsome, intelligent and funny, yet he decides to go out on a date with you?

Why? How did the two of you even end up here?

On the other hand, Seungmin feels like he'd been hit by the cupid's arrow. The only thing he can think about as you make your way towards him is how beautiful that long, pink dress looks on you and how he couldn't wait to make you his.

"For the beautiful lady." He says, offering you the red rose.

Shyly, you take the rose.

"Shall we?" He asks, gently taking your hand. Your hand feels warm.

"Yes." You reply, intertwining your fingers with his.

Oh, how beautiful it feels.

To be able to walk hand in hand with the man you admired so much. It feels natural. Like this is how the two of you were always meant to be. Maybe if Wendy had never told you about how Seungmin felt about you, you'd have never made the effort to ask him if he ever saw you in a non-platonic way.

But you're glad everything that happened happened. You're not someone who liked to live with what-ifs.

The restaurant he'd booked just adds to the beauty of this evening. The ambience is nice and a musician plays a beautiful melody on the piano, matching to the aesthetic of the place.

"I had booked a table for two by the name of Kim Seungmin. "

The waiter takes you to your place, a large candle adorning the center of the table.

You take your seats and the waiter takes your order and leaves.

Seungmin gets a hold of your hand again, intertwining your fingers.

"I can't believe we're actually out on a date." He chuckles, tracing his thumb across the back of your palm.

"I can't either. It's surreal." You say, "But I love it. I love being here with you."

Seungmin nods, "I love being anywhere, as long as you're with me."

"Didn't know Kim Seungmin was such a flirt, huh." You laugh, your cheeks heating up.

"Oh, you're in for a long ride, baby girl." He says, pressing his lips softly against your fingers.

Goosebumps.

Indeed, you were in for a long ride.

*

That night, the two of you walk back to the academy campus in silence.

A silence that is so calming and so comforting, it feels almost like a soothing hug from Seungmin.

When you two reach the main entrance of your dorm, Seungmin pulls you in for a hug again.

And just like last time, you melt into his arms.

He smells like smoke and mint and comfort.

"I had a great time, y/n." He whispers, pulling away but keeping your faces close.

He put strands of your hair behind your ears, so soft and tender.

"I did, too." You reply, your hands gently settling on his cheeks.

"Can I kiss you, y/n, please?" Seungmin asks, almost pleads. Like kissing you is what would keep him alive from that day on, like kissing you would fill his lungs with oxygen, like kissing you is the drug that he just cannot quit.

And you can only nod before he crashes his lips onto yours.

And yet again, he's gentle and tender and you sigh into his mouth when he pulls you closer.

He tastes like the tiramisu you had back in the restaurant, sweet and like strawberries.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." He says when you pull back, breathing heavy. His eyes are shy with a sense of pride in them. He couldn't believe that the girl he'd been crushing on since last year was finally his. He couldn't believe his luck.

And neither could you.

"Yeah, see you!" You say and kiss his lips once again before jogging into the dorm building.

Seungmin goes to sleep that night dreaming of you and wakes up yearning for you in the morning.

And the cycle repeats every day, for the next 2 months.

The two of you had become inseparable, spending every possible moment with each other.

Whenever your schedules would not let you spend a lot of time together, the two of would make sure to have at least one meal together. That single meal would be the highlight of both of your days.

But the final exams loom over you like an ominous grey cloud.

"So, as you already know, our country neighbors multiple other countries, each with their own king and set of rules. I want you all to remember the names of all current kings and all new rules they had added to their country during their tenure. " the history teacher was going on and on, "Remember, you only have a month left for your finals. That final grade would determine the trajectory of your lives. Study well."

And he finishes off with that threat.

You were so busy jotting down notes during the class that you didn't notice Seungmin's absence from the day's class.

You'd been late this morning and didn't have time to even have breakfast before coming to class. Naturally, you'd assumed he'd been in the class.

"I don't see your boyfriend today, y/n." Wendy says after class, as if reading your mind.

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same thing." You say, absently, stuffing your books back in your bag.

Wendy tags along with her other friends for lunch and you excuse yourself, making your way towards Seungmin’s dorm building.

You'd been to his room multiple times now, yet everytime you're surprised by how neat it is. The books are neatly lined up on the shelf, the blankets are folded on the bed and his shoes are neatly stacked by the corner of his cupboard.

"Missed you at class today." You say to Seungmin, whose eyes widen with excitement when he sees you enter the room.

"Yeah, I spent nearly three hours solving a problem last night, I didn't wake up on time." He says, patting the space near him on the bed.

You sit beside him, "Can we study together at night? I need your help."

He agrees immediately, pecking your cheek.

"In fact, we could go to the library right now, what say?" He asks.

"Did you forget, Seungmin? We have a field trip today. In the second half. We're supposed to assemble at the playground after lunch."

Seungmin chuckles, "Yeah. A field trip to the old fort of Taru. Almost forgot about it."

Something he'd been dreading for weeks now.

When it was announced that the final year students would be going on a field trip, he was excited in the beginning.

But when he found out the location of the said trip, he was devastated. The old fort of Taru was his ancestral home. His grandfather and great-grand father and great-great grandfather fought multiple wars and ruled the country from that fort and when they passed away, Seungmin’s father had shifted his family to a new palace just outside the city, deciding to turn the old fort into a museum for tourists.

Seungmin didn't dislike the old fort. In fact, he loved visiting that place . Every year, he'd look forward to visiting the old fort to pay homage to his forefathers during special festivals that only the Royal family celebrated.

Yet, he was dreading today's trip. Because at the entrance of the new museum, stands a tall painting of him and his family, welcoming tourists to their ancestral home.

And if you see the painting, his façade is going to disappear and you'll know his identity and that would be the end of his beautiful daydream.

But when you pull him by his collar and kiss him with so much love, he cannot help but wish for this dream to last forever.

*

When the time finally comes to board the horse carriages that would take the students to the fort, Seungmin starts rethinking every single choice of his till date. He knew he was hurting you, he knew you would be devasted to find out who he really is. But he would die if had to lose you.

And his greatest fears come to life the moment he sets foot out of that damned carriage.

Wendy, with her hand on your shoulder, stands near the fort entrance. You'd reached the fort earlier since the girls were sent off earlier. And Seungmin wishes they hadn't been.

You look confused, sad, eyebrows furrowed in exasperation.

When Wendy sees Seungmin, her eyes widen. "She knows." She mouths at him.

Seungmin swallows the lump in his throat, "Y/n, I swear..I swear I didn't do it to deceive you. I really like you and hell, I even love you. Please. Hear me out."

You don't say a word and stare at him with a piercing gaze.

"Y/n, please. I don't know why you hate Royal families but I promise you, I'm not as bad as you think they are. You know me, y/n. I'm your Seungmin!" He insists, trying to hold your hand.

But you pull away.

"You lied to me. You're no better than them." You say, almost a whisper, "Forget about what happened between us. It's over now."

And with that, the love of Seungmin’s life walks out of his life, leaving him in shambles.

*

You'd not slept properly for a week now and even stopped attending any classes. You had buried yourself in your books, revising every single page of every single book for as many times as you could.

The only time you did step out of your room was during lunch and dinner and even then, you made sure to avoid him at all costs.

It had been dreadful, really. You thought it would be easier for you to move on and forget the past few months if you kept reminding yourself of Seungmin’s lies, but it only made you miss him more.

He lied, yes; but he also made you fall in love with him, which was worse. Falling in love and dreaming of a family with Seungmin was never on your cards, you were sure you'd always marry the person your parents would have chosen for you. But here you were. Heartbroken and infatuated; both by the same person.

And today is no different from other days, or so you thought.

At around half past midnight, you hear a knock on your door. Wendy had gone home for a week and would be back tomorrow, so you are genuinely curious as to who would knock on your door at such an ungodly hour.

When you open the door, you see those eyes again- the black orbs that you'd fallen so deeply for.

"Y/n, do you have a minute? Please?" Seungmin pleads when you freeze at the sight of him.

"No. I'm afraid not." You reply, your heart hammering against your chest. The tightness in your throat does not help.

"Please, y/n. I beg you, please."

Across the hallway, a few girls pop their heads out of their doors, wondering where the male voice is from.

Sensing no other option, you pull Seungmin inside your room reluctantly.

"Fine. Say what you have to and then leave." You mutter.

You're doing everything in your power to avoid any sort of eye contact with him because you know that is what your weakness is.

He sits at the edge of your bed, while you sit in your chair, across the room.

"Y/n, you don't have to take me back. But I want you to know that I never meant to deceive you. It is pure, genuine love that I feel for you. I know you hate me because I'm of royal blood but ignoring that part, you did like me, didn't you? Before you even knew about my family. I'm still that person. I may be a prince but that is not all I am."

Your throat gets tighter and your eyes mist over with tears.

"It doesn't matter. Our relationship started from a lie. And as a matter of fact, I cannot ignore that you're a prince. I had one condition for all suitors and I cannot withdraw it for anyone."

Seungmin swallows, his eyes bloodshot, "Can you at least tell me why you hate Royal blood so much? What did they ever do to you?"

You scoff, "You really wanna know, huh? Does it still matter now? Because I'm never going to get back together with you, Seungmin."

"I want to know."

And so you tell him.

"I hate royals so much because I am one of them. I am a princess. A forgotten one, but the blood of royalty still courses through my veins."

You were a little girl of around four when your now parents had adopted you, more or less. You didn't know who they were or why they were taking you away from your mother and father- the king and queen of Nabha- a country neighboring Taru. You only remember crying till your head hurt. You remember your birth mother crying, standing at the gates of the castle while her emerald crown fell at her feet.

When you turned twelve, your adoptive parents told you the truth of your adoption.

Your adoptive mother worked in the Royal Palace as a governess for royal children while your adoptive father worked as a royal architect. They'd both met in the palace and fell in love, eventually married. You were born to the queen and king a year later. Everything was going well.

But as all stories go, yours had a villain too. Your own birth father- the king. He was the worst kind of person. He was cruel, unjust, abusive and hated you because you were a girl. He had prayed to every God known to mankind for a son, only for him to receive a daughter in return. But he refused to crown you the heir. For the next few years, the king traveled to all neighboring countries , looking for some solution to his problem. And then he found it. An oracle that told him to disown his first born daughter, in order to be blessed with a son.

When the king arranged for your adoption, he didn't even bother consulting his wife. One morning, you were in her arms and the next, you were being taken away to Taru by your adoptive parents.

The Queen killed herself the next morning.

"And that was the day I promised two things to myself: First, I would never set foot back in that country. I made Taru, your country my home. Second, I would never marry a man of royal ancestry. Because I know, no matter what happens, I never want to be associated with royals ever again. Betrayal is all we'll receive at the end under the pretense of a greater good."

Seungmin is speechless at this point. He thought your dislike towards royal lineage was just a matter of preference but now, he understands you. Truly. He understands why you'd take his lies as a sign of betrayal.

"Y/n, I-"

"Save it. You have your answers and I have mine. Leave."

He walks out of the room without a word and the moment you lock the door behind him, he falls on his knees, crying. His heart aches for you. For everything you'd been through and for everything he put you through. He cries for you.

But little does he know, behind the closed door, you're on your knees too, sobbing into your hands. Every single fiber of your being begged you to stop him and you chose to ignore it.

You wonder if you'll ever be able to hate Seungmin like you wish you did.

*

Wendy is lecturing you again this morning, her face tense.

"Y/n, we're leaving this academy forever tomorrow. Can you please give yourself the closure you deserve? Just go and talk to Seungmin. You don't have to hate his guts forever. "

The final exam results are out today, which means that your parents would be coming to pick you up tomorrow evening. You'd be leaving this place and all the bitter-sweet memories associated with it forever. It hurts you a little.

But you had to be strong.

"I've got my closure, Wendy. I promise. Can we talk about something else now?"

Wendy sighs, "Y/n, if this is what you want, then I shall support you. But know that I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have ten kids with someone else!"

For the first time in months, you allow yourself to laugh at Wendy's stupid statements. She joins in too.

But her words stick with you throughout the day.

That night, after you're done packing most of your stuff, you crash on your bed, a thousand thoughts circling your head.

I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have kids with someone else!

Even the thought of marrying another man and having his kids nauseated you. Are you really ready to let go of Seungmin, forever?

You had spent a long time trying to forget Prince Kim Seungmin, his voice, his words, his touch, but had you really succeeded?

After today, you might never see him again. Are you ready to live with that regret forever?

The answer to all these questions is no. You are not someone to live wondering the what-ifs.

So you jump out of the bed, lantern in hand and run towards Seungmin’s dorm.

*

"Y/n, did you come here by mistake?" Is his first reaction when he opens his door, hair messy and eyes alert.

You shake your head, "No. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

He let's you in.

"So, what's up?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks nervous. Like the first time he had taken you out for dinner to grandma's noodle shop.

"I've been thinking. About you and about us. And I.. I'm scared. I will not lie. I do not trust royals, but for some reason, I trust you. I know that there’s a thousand things that could go wrong but I still want to be with you. If you'll have me again"

Seungmin is dumbfounded. Literally. How does one even respond to things like these?

"Seungmin, say something!" You insist.

He forces the words out of his mouth, "I'm g-glad you feel that way."

You scowl, hands on your hips.

"I bare my heart open to you and this is all you have to say? Really? Listen, if you've found someone else in these few weeks then I understand, I really do but please at least-"

He kisses you. He kisses you so beautifully, it pains you to even think that you were willing to give up this. And for what? A horrible father who coincidentally was also of royal blood?

His tongue nudges at your tongue playfully, while his hands are cupping your face, thumbs circling your skin in comfort.

You'd never felt so much peace.

When you pull away, he gently presses his forehead onto yours, "I wouldn't dare find someone else. I assure you, whatever prejudices Nabha had, they do not exist here in Taru. I'm not like your birth father and I will never be. I promise. I will do everything in my power to convince you about it."

And for some reason, as usual, you believe him.

You kiss him again, knowing that if you could go back in time, you would not change a thing. You would let Seungmin easily win the duel of your hearts a thousand times over.

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

orange and gold

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

Set a few months after Master of the Mountain, but before Seabound or The Island.

Also yeah, I couldn't think of a better title, sue me- I just know that they wear one of the colours at some point, so... 🤦‍♀️😂

Trigger warnings: none I think? Huh-

Also, bingo!! I really need to learn better time management, dear freaking gosh- I hope I'm not too late though? I know it's like half a day late, eek- and I was supposed to post this earlier, but I ended up literally falling asleep while writing it😂

Thank you so much Fabro, for hosting such a cool event!:D Your comments on my fics literally never fail to make my day<3. And I'm so glad that I met so many awesome, really skilled people through this event too - it's been a lot of fun working alongside y'all:D, I wish I'd had more time to interact instead of posting stuff and vanishing lol, but exams be like:////

Prompt: cooking (does baking count as cooking? I realized too late lol-) from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Word Count: 2497

---

Trying to escape from killer dire-bats hadn't been on Cole's to do list today - although the mountains were kind of beautiful.

It was a bit difficult to see them while he was being dragged to his death, but hey, didn't Jay always tell them to be more positive?

That was, until he made the mistake of looking down.

Miles of snowcapped mountains touched the pastel blue sky, but he was more focused on exactly how high he was from the ground.

Great.

Trying to swing back onto the Bounty, he didn't notice a golden-winged blur shoot past the bat, almost dropping their spear in haste.

"Let my friend go, or I'll-"

"Vania?"

She throws the spear at the bird, successfully knocking one of its wings.

Huh. She must've been practicing - throwing with accuracy while flying seemed kinda difficult.

"I'm so sorry!" she replies, grabbing his arm before he fell down too. She winces at the strain on her wings, almost dropping him onto the deck. "I was supposed to come earlier, but there was an issue with one of the mines, and it took forever to-"

"There ain't anything in this world that's managed to kill me yet," he replies jokingly, checking that the autopilot hadn't been damaged. "I doubt an angry bird is going to be the first."

"Didn't you mention that you became a ghost once? Pretty sure that means you were dead-"

"Shh, that's not an important detail," he jokes.

"If you say so," she replies with a grin. "Did I mention that Chompy's been tearing down the palace flower arrangements again?"

"Send my regards to the gardener-"

"Did you just make a pun?"

"Remind me why I decided to visit you again?"

"Because you love me?" she asks stepping onto the ground as the Bounty landed gently.

"I hereby crown you as my platonic soulmate," Cole deadpans, taking her hand. "Vania and Cole-"

"Destined to annoy each other for eternity," she giggles, swinging their hands up and down. "But seriously - thanks. I don't think I realized how much work being a queen was."

"What's it like?"

"I mean - I'm glad that people trust me, and they come to me if they have a problem, but the paperwork is a nightmare. I never get to go outside anymore, I swear."

"Paperwork? Also, you just invited me here for a week. I don't wanna disturb you?"

"Nah, I cleared my schedule, don't worry. And trust me, you don't want to know. Everything requires some sort of official written thing, and it's so boring-"

"Official? But you're the queen?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want to change something unless it benefits the people. Not after..."

Her smile dims, eyes straying to the palace walls.

Oh- oh.

"You're nothing like him," Cole says firmly, squeezing her hand. "I mean, if you need to take a break, or you can make your job a bit easier by cutting out something unnecessary, that's just gonna help you become a better queen. You've definitely got the interests of your people at heart, and that's the most important thing, you know? And well, uh, everything seems to be going great so far - you don't have to beat yourself up over someone else's mistakes."

"Thanks," she replies softly, her smile slowly returning. "Speaking of breaks, what do you think we should do this time?"

"You could show me around the city again?"

"You've already seen everything cool," Vania giggles, skipping ahead of him. "We don't renovate much - unlike you guys-"

"Hey, it's not our fault that our city gets destroyed every few months-"

"More like every few days," she teases, tying back her golden hair. "How about we find some dragons to adopt?"

"Tempting, but where would you keep them?"

"They could sleep in my room-"

She breaks off when she notices him laughing. "What?"

"N- nothing," Cole replies, in between laughs. "Jay and I just made a bet."

"On what?"

"How many dragons you've adopted. I bet at least six, he bet fifteen."

"Well, jokes on both of you - I'm pretty sure my advisor's going to throw a fit if I show up with another one," she starts, giggling. "We've got twenty living in the palace right now."

"Twenty dragons?"

"They're so cute! You just look into their adorable little eyes," Vania pauses for breath, continuing her animated gesturing, "and you can't help but wanna hug them!"

"Oh, Jay's going to be so mad."

"Aww, I'm sorry guys. They're just too adorable!"

"...Wanna hear a funny story?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"I actually used to be terrified of dragons-"

"No way!" Vania exclaims. "Y'all have been on a lot of adventures though, so-"

"Nah, we used to have our own dragons at first. They were pretty cool! I just- I'm a simple guy! Huge animals with wings are scary up close when you're barely a teenager."

"Or when you're really short-"

"We're the same height!" Cole exclaims, facepalming in a bit of a fondly exasperated way.

"I'm two years younger than you-"

---

"Ugh, whose idea was this?"

"Yours," Vania grins, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"You were supposed to help me, not leave me high and dry!" Cole accuses jokingly, staring at all the appliances they'd found in the cupboards.

"'One must always be prepared for new adventures,'" she quotes seamlessly, waving one of- what was his name again? Mulch something? Oh! Clutch! Some explorer he was, leaving them to die in the pyramid - Clutch Powers' books in the air.

"Fine," he sighs, staring at the old recipe book she'd found in one of their back cupboards. "But you've gotta help me? I almost burned down-" "Woah, what? If you finish that sentence with 'kitchen'-" "In my defense, Kai was playing a prank on me-" "In my defense, I wouldn't like to explain how the queen of Shintaro burnt down the palace by teaching one of her friends to cook," she grins, flipping through the pages. "What do you wanna start with?" "Something simple?" "Have you ever tried baking bread before? It's a lot of fun!" "I haven't really had the time, but that sounds kinda interesting."

He skims the recipe, raising his eyebrows. "Wait, why does this take hours? I thought you said it was simple?"

"Trust me, it is," she laughs, adding, "besides, I still wanna hear about all your adventures!" "Uh... okay," Cole replies hesitantly, "but if this fails, I'm so sorry." "Give yourself some credit, you guys literally saved the world! Multiple times!" "Bold of y'all to assume we know how we did it," he laughs, only half-kidding. "Besides. I botched soup once."

"I've botched toast," she mock-sighs, smiling. "Pretty sure that makes us even."

"Lemme get this straight. You've messed up toasting bread, but you can bake it from scratch?"

"Trust me, I don't know either," she giggles, trying to open a brightly coloured packet of... something? Did flour come in packets that small?

"Uh, why are you opening something called 'feast'?" he asks, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Feast," she echoes, trying to stifle her laughter. "Off to a... rocky start, aren't we?"

It took him a second.

"I already regret this," he jokes, facepalming. "But I'd say that your puns are, uh, gold."

"I've un- unleashed-" breaking off, she half-falls off the counter, laughing so hard her face starts to go red, "a monster."

---

"Uh, is it supposed to look like that?" Cole asks, frowning.

The mixture looked less like the dough he'd been expecting - more like one of Jay's inventions gone wrong.

Badly wrong, he thought, eyes widening at the goopy mess of foam that threatened to spill over the jug.

"The yeast?" Vania echoes, poking her head out of one of the cupboards. "Yeah, all good! It always looks a little gross, and you're gonna doubt ever eating bread again, but at least it doesn't taste like it's fermented-"

"It's what?"

"Yeah," she grimaces, exaggerating her disgust a bit. "If aliens ever fell from the sky, they'd think we were crazy for eating bread-"

"Aliens? I think we're a bit crazy!" Cole exclaims, trying not to laugh.

Vania smiles, then sighs, lugging a huge bag of flour onto the counter. "I can never open these bags properly," she starts, eyeing the the bag a bit warily, "and it always makes such a huge mess all over the kitchen. You'd think they'd make it easier for people to use, right? I swear-"

He jokingly puts his hands over his ears. "I can't hear you!" "But you know that I've sworn off swearing-" she replies, breaking off with a laugh. "Pun not intended - that actually made sense in my head. I swear!"

"No," Cole interjects with a grin, shaking his head. "You don't, remember?"

"See, this is why we're friends-"

"Friends? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, be quiet," she shoots back, exaggeratedly dragging a hand down her face. "I mean, sure, just because everyone thinks that we're dating doesn't mean that we-"

Wait. What?

"People think that we're dating?" he asks, clamping a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle his laughter. "I- I- really?"

"I know, right?"

"Even my friends thought so at first," he confesses, dragging a hand down his face. "I mean, as much as I love you-"

"I love you too," Vania replies, completely seriously. "Even if you'll always be more like an annoying-"

"Hey-"

"Sibling to me than anything else," she finishes, grabbing a pair of scissors. Cole watches, a little alarmed, as she stabs them into the flour bag over and over.

"Is it... supposed to be this difficult to just open the bag? Seems kinda stupid-"

"Well, er, they have this piece of paper with glue that you're supposed to pull away from the rest of the bag, but it never works properly and I-"

"Well, we could always make our own flour," Cole interjects, laughing. "I mean, I've got a scythe? Let's go!"

"Uh, but we don't have wheat growing here. I don't think it'd suit the climate very well?"

"Wheat a shame," Cole sighs jokingly, measuring out the flour (which had, finally, escaped the bag).

"Oh my gosh," Vania deadpans, "you did not just-"

"Yep, I did."

"You're horrible," she giggles, "then again, I was the one who started this whole debacle, so I think we'll share the blame."

"Debacle? Where'd you pick that one up from? Sounds kinda cool-"

"Oh, it's from a book someone wrote about you guys," Vania says casually, pouring a cup of water into the bowl.

"Hey, uh-" Cole starts hesitantly, twisting his fingers back and forth, then breaks off. "Why'd you read all that stuff about us, anyways? Adventure books don't really seem like something you read a lot, since we have similar favorite books. I mean..."

"Well, um..." Vania trails off, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh- I guess, well, it sounds kinda stupid, but I'd never really met anyone my age who wasn't a royal or something. I... er, I didn't want to be left out, you know?"

Cole thinks back to a scroll; a quest, a sacrifice. One that his friends never seemed to really notice, unless it was with horror or flinches. Not that he blamed them, but - joking about how he was much more useful to the team when he was freaking dead than he was before he'd stumbled and fell in the temple?

That had been a bit far, even for his best friend. Locks could always be picked or something, he didn't need to be a ghost to provide some sort of value-

Well, that's not completely true, is it? a small voice questions, and he can't keep his hands from shaking a little.

"Jay here thinks you're the least valuable ninja."

Not enough to be a performer. Now, not good enough to even be a ninja, apparently.

Well, he reminds himself firmly, you don't have to be the best - just stand up to those who are cruel and unjust.

Nothing but a scar that glowed warm orange occasionally left of the whole Cursed Realm ordeal, sometimes it was all too easy to forget - or pretend - that it had never even happened in the first place.

Other times, like when he'd dropped a glass of water on the floor and his hands hadn't stopped shaking for hours, or when he woke up screaming, expecting to fall through his bed again, it still felt like he was trapped as a ghost. Literally - and maybe a little figuratively as well.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

"Thanks for trusting me with that," he replies softly. "And I'm sorry. That sounds... horrible, but, honestly, you're a pretty cool person, and I ain't just saying that because we're friends. People can be awful, and they can- they can leave, but you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not for people to accept you. I kinda know what it's like, and it's... just, uh, not great."

"No, thank you," Vania says, rubbing her eyes. "You're pretty cool, too. And I'm glad that we become friends, even if wasn't in the- the, er, greatest circumstances."

"Right back at ya. The fall was pretty terrifying, though," Cole says casually, as if memories of that nightmarish plunge into the depths of earth don't still send shivers down his spine.

"No, definitely! I was so sure we were gonna splat onto the ground or something, thank gosh we didn't."

"Yeah..." Cole trails off, reading the recipe they'd been following. "Oh- do we just leave the bowl somewhere for a few hours now?"

"Oh, yeah," Vania answers. "Other than clean up the kitchen, what else do you wanna do?"

"That's kind of you, but, ah, I don't mind. You can choose something."

"I don't mind either," she replies, covering the bowl with a dishcloth. "Seriously, I don't."

"Same here though."

"Really, I don't mind-" Vania breaks off with a laugh, adding, "Well, actually, there is something."

She doesn't elaborate, thoughtfully gazing out the window.

"Well, what is it? Don't keep me in the dark."

"Ugh, it's kinda stupid-"

"I'm sure that it's not- well, unless you want to try to jump off a flying ship with a homemade parachute to prove a bet to someone-"

"Do I even wanna know?"

"...uh, probably not. We're way too crazy sometimes, our Master has a hard time keeping us in check. Your thing, though?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

Cole blinks for a second, expecting some sort of punchline.

"That's your thing?"

"Well, yeah- I mean, I said it was kinda stupid-"

"No no, that's not what I meant. You're so sweet - that's all."

"Well, not more than you-"

"Nah, you're sweeter-"

"Let's just call it a tie," Vania says with a smile, reaching over to give her friend a hug. "Thank you so much, I swear- well, no, I don't, but you know, anyways-"

"Yeah," Cole replies, laughing softly. "I know."

[tsrookie]

For the hc asks, what do you think would happen if at some point in Ethan and MC's future, Ethan was the one in some kind of serious accident/illness? There's lots of fics where something happens to MC, and obviously we have canon with the attack, but I'm curious about your thoughts on the opposite happening

Oof. Thanks for the ask anon! (This just turned into something completely different from what I had initially planned, so it’s a bit lengthy)

——————————

MC’s halfway through her third year. It’s an absolute pain with Leland around. He prioritises finding a cure for Caroline over everything else, so the diagnostics team is unable to give their fullest to the patients who actually need them. He keeps adding more facilities to the hospital, so the construction work seems never ending at this point.

She arrives at the hospital for her night shift, when she hears a loud explosion. She looks up in horror and sees a room on the sixth floor in flames.

Dread settles into the pit of her stomach as she rushes into the hospital, barging past security. Ethan had texted her just a few minutes ago, asking her to meet him on that very same floor.

Ethan feels a sharp pain in his forehead, and realises that he’s bleeding. He keeps little Jess close to him as she cries in fear. The poor kid was searching for her parents, and he had offered to help. They had reached the gas cylinder room, when Ethan saw the sparks.

The newly connected wires had broken, and the sparks were flying dangerously close to the gas canisters. He rushed into a nearby room and slammed the door shut, with a terrified Jess in his arms.

The loud explosion sent him hurtling to the the opposite side of the room. Jess clinged on to him for dear life, her fearful cries muffled by the roaring fire.

He takes a moment to recover from the initial shock, then his doctor instincts kick in. He lays Jess down and asks her to tell him if she feels any pain. She cries out loud when he checks her leg. She’s bleeding profusely due to a deep gash, and there was only so much pain she could take.

He takes off his coat and ties it around her leg to control the bleeding. She frightfully asks him if they were going to be safe. He takes a deep breath to try and nullify his own pain. MC’s image flashes through his mind, and the throbbing ache takes a backseat. He nods determinedly to Jess, internally vowing to get back to MC, no matter what it took.

He scans his surroundings. He sees the fire slowly spreading to the rest of the floor, and the walls threatening to crack and fall.

He manages to locate a door amongst the smoke across the corridor. He picks Jess up and tells a silent prayer for them to safely get out of there.

He narrowly misses a huge canister by seconds. He tries to calm himself down for Jess’ sake, but finds it incredibly hard to do given the hazardous environment. He feels his vision grow blurry as the smoke threatens to overwhelm him, but snaps out of it when Jess lets out another cry.

He finally reaches the door, and almost falls to his knees gasping for air. He staggers down the stairs, just as another explosion reaches his ears.

He hears loud shouts from the opposite side of the corridor. He can barely register whose voice it was before he finally collapses. The last thing he sees is a flash of auburn.

MC yells orders to everyone nearby, terrified at the sight of Ethan’s unconscious form. She drops to her knees and checks his pulse, all while trying to get him to wake up.

The nurses carry a passed out Jess to a nearby patient room, as more doctors arrive to place Ethan on a stretcher. Zaid holds MC back from going with them, despite her desperate cries.

Miraculously, he hasn’t suffered any major injuries. Just a few minor burns and cuts on his arms and legs. He passed out mainly due to smoke inhalation, due to which he was to be placed on the ventilator for a while. MC heaves out a sigh of relief when she’s informed that Ethan would make a full recovery in a week or two.

Jess is alright as well. Three more people suffered injuries due to the accident, but none fatal.

Ethan wakes up to MC holding his hand and stroking his hair. She doesn’t have to say a word for him to understand how he scared the living daylights out of her. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying and lack of sleep.

She gives him a tired smile, filled with relief and love. He gives her hand a weak squeeze, and she presses a soft kiss to it.

She gets into the bed, careful not to touch any of his wounds. Kissing his forehead, she settles in for a much required nap, with his hands intertwined with hers.

Once he’s able to talk, he spends an entire hour with MC before seeing anyone else. He asks her about Jess, and is relieved to know that she’s recovering well.

He apologises to MC for putting her through the pain and fear he had once experienced. She silences him with a kiss, and tells him that none of it was his fault. She assures him that the only thing that mattered to her was that he had saved a little girl’s life, and gotten himself out of there.

When Ethan is asked whether he’ll be able to speak at a board meeting regarding the incident, he asks for MC to speak on his behalf. She protests, saying that she’s a mere third-year resident, but relents when Ethan tells her she’s the only one he trusts enough to have his best interests by heart.

At the meeting, Leland doesn’t own up to his mistakes, and constantly keeps emphasising on the fact that mistakes and accidents take place. He offers to compensate for the losses with more money.

When the board tells him that this isn’t something he can easily fix with a mount load of cash, and point out the various smaller mishaps that have taken place since his acquisition of Edenbrook, he shrugs it off and tells them that Edenbrook has had plenty of accidents in the past, and no further measures were taken after the attack the previous year. Something inside MC snaps at that moment.

“No. No, you don’t get to talk about what happened last year. You weren’t there when this hospital lost two of their finest members. You weren’t there to see how everyone suffered from their deaths. You don’t know how much Danny and Bobby meant to everyone in this room. Travis Perry, the one who set the gas free, died before any further action could be taken. You don’t know the fear of every single doctor who worked to find the cure. You don’t know about how much I personally went through watching two of my friends die, and one of them nearly. You don’t know the physical and mental toil it took on the victims. You. Have. No idea. About any of that. What happened last year wasn’t just an accident due to negligence on the hospital’s part, it was a textbook definition of an assassination attack. So yeah, you don’t get to compare what happened last year to you turning a blind eye to the problems of the hospital, because of the extra renovations you made. If someone had died in this...”

Her eyes burn with a fire no one had ever witnessed before. She takes a deep breath, trying not to think of what could’ve happened to Ethan, before continuing at a shell-shocked Leland, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“If someone had died in this fire, it would’ve been entirely on your shoulders, for failing to properly supervise the constructions. This isn’t the way things are supposed to work at a hospital, Leland. You want the hospital to become a premier research center, but did you honestly think about that when the hospital was sinking? Did you attend that charity gala last year, which was our last chance of saving the hospital? Did you find the need to donate money when we needed the most? You want a cure for Caroline, and that’s understandable. But you can’t keep making changes around here, and then fail to oversee the transitions properly. So please, stop trying to say that what just happened, wasn’t your fault.”

She finally sits down, with every single person in the room in complete awe. Naveen glances at her direction with a glimmer of pride. She isn’t an intern who used to have trouble navigating the corridors anymore. She’s a doctor who knows her place in the hospital, a member of the most prestigious diagnostics team in the country, and she knew damn well what was right and what was wrong.

MC knows that she could possibly lose her job due to her outburst, yet the looks on the faces of the board members tell her otherwise. The rest of the meeting passes with Leland finally admitting to his negligence over the more minor details, which have cause issues since he came to the hospital. They agree to have a few more meetings to discuss the measures to be taken to fix the damages of the accident, and Leland’s administration.

Naveen walks up to her after the meeting, and tells her that she technically wouldn’t be in any trouble, since she was speaking on Ethan’s behalf, and he would’ve done the exact same thing she had done. And no one would dare speak up against Ethan Ramsey. She laughs at the truthfulness of the statement.

“But I never want to become a carbon copy of him at any point. That would be terrible.”

“Now what would be so bad about that?”

“He terrorises the interns! I never want to become that strict.”

“Well... he hasn’t been terrorising them that much recently. Probably since he knows a certain someone was an intern when he first fell for them.”

She smiles sheepishly, as they both walk towards Ethan’s room.

“I’m really glad he’s okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if...” She trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“I know, MC. Me too.”

Once she reaches Ethan’s room, her lips quirk up into a smile as she finds him trying to pass time on social media. After a quick kiss, he asks her about the meeting. She relays the entire thing, and needless to say, he’s highly impressed.

He tells her to go home after a while, but she tenderly replies that she wasn’t going anywhere. He stayed by her side when she was a patient, and she wasn’t about to leave him when the tables were turned.

Ethan sighs, and pulling MC close, he finally drifts off into a peaceful slumber.

——————————

A/N: I gave it a happy ending!😅 I know this was more of a mini-fic than a hc, but I couldn’t help myself! Hope it made sense, ‘cause I have no clue about any construction work whatsoever.

Also, thank you so much for all the requests you’ve been sending! I’ve got plenty of stuff to work on now, so thanks a lot for that💙

Taglist: @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @starrystarrytrouble @dxnicaramsey @decadentwinnerjudgedream @imonlybibecauseofethanramsey @rookiefromedenbrook @bratzlahela @eramsey28 @the-pale-goddess @ohchoices @wellhelloramsey @pitchblackstars @mvalentine @swiftlydarcy @utterlyinevitable @angela8754 @akshara16 @sushiharrington @drethanramslay @lion-ess24 @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @choicesstan1 @aarisa-frost @drariellevalentine @perriewinklenerdie @blossomanarchy @nikki-2406 @stateofgracious @takemyopenheart @open-heart-ramseyyy @maurine07 @udishaman @queencarb @ethanramseylover @rookiemarsswiftie @aworldoffandoms

Let me know if you wanna be added to or removed from the taglist!

[yikesharringrove]

His Fault.

Thank you @thinger-strang for the commission! 💕

Read on Ao3

Steve took Max first, grabbing her around the knees and lifting.

He didn’t know which kid was which, just picked them up and shoved them through the hole in the ground.

No thoughts in his head besides getting the kids to safety.

He was still dizzy from the fight, from Max’s wild driving, from being thrown into low oxygen conditions.

He grabbed Dustin.

The last kid to get through.

There was a rumble.

The ground shook.

And Steve stared death right in its face.

A pack of demodogs, heading right for them.

He grabbed Dustin, thought maybe, maybe he could shield him.

If this kid dies, it’s all my fault.

But the ‘dogs passed them by.

On their way to protect from El.

Because their plan didn’t work. Their carefully crafted idea to help El was bullshit.

He pushed Dustin up to safety.

He had brought these kids down here for no reason.

They had all gotten hurt for no reason.

All because of him.

-

Steve’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

He was trying to get himself to get up, get out of the car.

Staring through the windshield at the small service.

Barb’s funeral.

The girl that died right outside his house. The girl who died in his pool.

The girl he killed.

By being too preoccupied with Nancy. By being too much of a stupid fucking jock.

It’s all his fault.

He got out of the car, stayed mostly to himself throughout the service.

He hugged Barb’s parents afterwards, offered his condolences.

He got the feeling that they never really liked him.

That’s okay. He doesn't really blame them.

And if they knew, if they knew what he did to their Barb-

They would do more than just not like him.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, thoughts of your fault your fault your fault whipping through his brain.

He killed Barb.

-

Steve was trying to think quickly.

It was a little tricky, what with the pounding in his head, the hits he was taking right to the gut.

He needed to somehow talk his way out of this.

Which sucked because talking has never been his strong point.

But he brought Robin into all of this. He had let Erica climb through those vents to get them into the elevator. He had helped Dustin suss out what the message meant.

Actually, he hadn’t.

He had been too fucking stupid to help with that.

No.

He had just encouraged the translation that was happening around him.

Had just walked three people right into the clutches of the Upside Down, and these violent goddamn Russians, and-

That one hurt.

He woke up sometime later to Robin yelling.

“Hey, will you stop yelling?”

“Steve! Oh my God! Steve!”

She sounded, actually relieved.

“Are you okay?”

-

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Robin was sitting next to him, both wrapped in thick blankets.

They had their own ambulance, Nancy and Jonathan in the one next door.

He had watched them take Billy off on a gurney, watched them slam a defibrillator to his body until his heart started beating again, watched them load him into the back of an ambulance, and take him off to the hospital.

The adrenaline, the heavy drugs, it was all out of his system.

And he was crashing.

“I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I shouldn’t have talked Dustin into translating the tape, I shouldn’t have-”

“Okay, Dingus. Let’s get some things straight. I’m pretty sure Dustin talked you into the translations. I don’t know if you’d be able to talk Dustin into anything. And you didn’t rope me into shit.”

“I mean, I mean with the Upside Down. This whole fucking conspiracy. You deserved to go your whole damn life without knowing any of this.”

“But Steve, I know about it now. The milk has been spilled. So stop crying.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it is.

-

“Hi, welcome to Family- Nancy?”

Nancy had stopped in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Steve. I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Yeah. You know, with the mall being all, burnt down. And stuff.” She nodded slowly, stock still in the doorway. “Can I help you find something?”

“No. Thanks. I’m just browsing.”

“Well, uh, let me know if you need help. Or ask Robin, maybe. She’s better with the recommends.” Nancy seemed to startle, stepping into the store properly.

“Thanks, Steve.” He smiled tightly at her.

They really hadn’t talked since breaking up.

Of course, they’d spoken in the summer, but that was less exchanging pleasantries, more how do we stop the giant fleshy monster that’s trying to take over the whole world?

Which isn’t quite the same.

She browsed through the aisles, Steve doodling on the carbon pad next to the register.

She smiled tightly at him, a few tapes in hand.

“So, uh, how are you?” They hadn’t spoken since that night. Since he wandered over to her ambulance, checking in with her and Jonathan.

“I’m okay. Just working and stuff. Obviously.”

“And how’s Billy?”

“Managing. He’s in all kindsa therapy and stuff now.”

“That’s, that’s good.” She was all stiff as he handed her her change. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

“Yeah, Nancy. Yeah, you too.”

He hated how shitty and awkward that had been.

Hated that she was the person he felt closest to for the better part of a year, and now they’re stuck with light conversation and forced smiles.

He pushed her so hard.

Always poking and poking.

Always too clingy, always too emotional, not emotional enough. Too insensitive, or just too much work.

He doesn’t know how anyone puts up with him.

-

“Hey,” Billy smiled softly at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that my little nurse is here.” Steve rolled his eyes, smiling back as he sat on the bed next to Billy.

He had brought him to his house from the military hospital.

Billy still had a long road of healing. His scars were pulled together, and the wounds were closed, but everything was still pretty rough.

“Can I get you anything?” Billy reached over for him.

His hands were scarred and rough, and he was still trying to regain feeling, the nerves having suffered far too much damage.

“Nah. Just sit with me.”

Steve took one of his hands, stretching his hand like the doctor had shown him.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Nah. My stomach’s all outta whack today. Don’t know if I could keep anything down.” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Are you, can I make you something? Soup?”

“Stevie, I’m okay. One day’s not gonna kill me.” It felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Something must've shown on his face because Billy was trying to sit up. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“No, I just-”

“It’s okay. Sorry.” Steve tried to gather himself.

“Don’t like jokes about you dying. Thought you were dead for, for like a week, you know. Before they told us you were stable.”

“Baby, it’s alright. I know it was hard on you.” Steve blinked rapidly.

“But I mean, it’s like, youwere the one, the one in the hospital I shouldn’t,” he stood up, Billy wincing as the bed shifted. “I’m gonna make you something.”

He was holding back tears as he spread peanut butter and jelly onto saltine crackers.

Billy had the best luck keeping it down when he felt sick.

He felt like shit whenever he did that. Got all mopey on Billy.

Billy was the one trying not to die in a hospital bed. Steve was just, doing what Steve does.

Making everything about himself.

He brought Billy the plate, kneeling next to him in bed.

“You okay?” Steve just shook his head, plastering on a nice smile for Billy.

“I’m fine, Bill. Just try to eat? For me?”

Billy managed three of the crackers before he heaved into the garbage bin placed next to the bed.

Steve felt like shit.

Billy’s core muscles were still healing, and throwing up only made him sore, made him tired and in pain.

“Billy, I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t have made Billy eat. Shouldn’t have tried to make himself feel better by force-feeding Billy while he felt bad.

When he finally stopped, Steve helped him to the bathroom to wash out his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Steve, it’s not your fault.”

“But you said you didn’t feel good.”

“You’re just trying to take care of me.”

Keyword here being trying.

Trying and failing at taking care of Billy.

-

“Steve, are you busy tonight?” Dustin had thrown open the door to Family Video stomping inside.

“I mean, no but I thought, isn’t tonight your big tournament?”

Dustin sighed dramatically.

“The arcade is closed.”

Dustin had been saving up for months, using the end of the summer to mow neighbors’ lawns.

Steve had even paid him to mow his own lawn.

He and the gang were going to rage for hours, Dustin organizing a special secret prize for whoever got the highest cumulative score.

He had put so much thought into everything, had been so excited.

And the arcade was closed.

“Can I talk to Keith?”

“Be my guest.”

Dustin pushed into the backroom.

Steve could hear his voice, could hear him arguing with Keith.

He came back out, Keith following behind.

“Harrington, I told you, customers aren’t allowed in the back.” He pointed to the Employees Only sign on the door. “Can you even read?” Keith rolled his eyes. Steve studied his shoes.

“And Henderson, I told you, the arcade is closed for renovations. A pipe burst in the storeroom.” Dustin Huffed. “Just, rent a movie or something. But you know, don’t ask for Harrington’s recommendation.”

Keith laughed to himself as he retreated to the back.

“Like I would ask you for a recommendation. I know what kind of movies you like.” Steve forced a smile at him.

“Sorry about your game night.” Dustin shrugged.

“I thought it’d be fun. We haven’t played DnD since Will moved. It just feels wrong without him, I guess. I thought this could bring us back to the fun spirit.”

“It’s a good idea. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to postpone.”

Steve just kinda lived with a big ol’ bit in his stomach these days.

But every time something like this happened, something where his friend was sad, and Steve was completely useless to help him, the pit seemed to grow.

He wonders what happens when the pit gets too big.

-

Billy stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly.

“You okay?”

Billy blew out a breath, rubbing his chest.

“Yeah. Just cold. It hurts.” They were standing outside, waiting for the kids to be finished with school.

Steve drove Dustin and Max home, usually brought Billy along with him.

Neil had been one of the flayed, the only casualty Billy said he didn’t feel bad for.

So Max had moved with her mom into a tiny two-bedroom house.

Billy was still staying with Steve for the time being.

“Oh! I got a sweater in my trunk.” Steve ran around to the back of the car, unlocking the trunk and digging through.

He kept his car pretty clean, just his bat, some jumper cables, and a go-bag.

So he should see the sweater right away.

But he didn’t.

He frantically shifted everything around.

“No, no.”

The sweater wasn’t there.

“Fuck are you, are you serious?”

He genuinely could cry.

Billy was blowing into his hands, rubbing them together when Steve slumped back over to him.

“Billy, I’m sorry. It’s not in there.” Billy squinted at him.

“That’s okay.”

“I thought it was, but I must’ve taken it out, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just, you know, come here and make it up to me.” He had a lazy smile on his face. “Come keep me warm.”

Steve wrapped himself around Billy, burying his face in his neck.

“I wish I could keep you warmer. I wish I had that sweater.”

“Baby, I’m okay. Just achy.”

Steve made sure to turn up the heat full blast when they got back in, the kids in the backseat.

-

“Fuck!”

The bottom of the box had given out, tapes crashing to the tiled floor.

He had been on his way to reshelve everything, after spending all day in the back rewinding.

But here he was, checking each plastic tape for cracks as he tried to find something else to put them in.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.”

Ah, yes. That’s what he needs right now. Keith standing over him while he cleaned up the mess of tapes.

“What’d you do now?”

“The box, it just fell apart.”

“You know, Robin really went out on a limb to you to get this job.” Keith was standing over him, staring down at Steve sill kneeling on the ground. “Maybe I should just fire you both.”

“Wait, no!”

Steve’s heart was in his throat.

It felt like he was gonna choke on it.

“You, you can’t, I don’t care if you hate me, okay, just, just don’t fire Robin!”

Keith loved to do this. Dangle his measly power as manager over Steve.

Robin said it was some kind of revenge fantasy for how shitty Steve was to him in high school.

Steve just figures he deserves it.

Bottom of the food chain now. That’s where he is.

The guy that thought he was the hottest shit to walk the Earth. The guy that barely graduated. The guy that had to linger around his hometown. The guy has no life. The guy that has no future.

“Why not? She vouched for you.” Keith was eating a pack of M&Ms, crunching each one loudly between his teeth.

“Just, just don’t.” Steve felt like he could cry.

“Then get this cleaned up, and I’ll consider letting you both stay.”

Steve just nodded.

He didn’t think his voice would work without cracking all over the place.

He found a crate in the stockroom, stacking the tapes as quickly as he could.

He liked reshelving.

The organization system made sense, and he could do it easily without having to know anything about the movies, without having to know anything besides the alphabet, and the genre sticker each tape had.

Robin was better with customers.

Better at making change and recommending movies. Better at talking to people without sounding like an idiot.

But he finished reshelving, and had to retreat behind the counter.

“You’re being weird today.”

Steve had zoned out, staring through the front windows.

“Sorry.”

“Bad night?” he just nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about Keith’s little threat. She would just go on a rampage. Probably yell at him a lot. And if Steve being a fuck up didn’t get her fired, defending him for sure would. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie. Most nights are bad. “Steve, are you sure you’re okay? It feels like,” she glanced around. “It feels like you’re getting, like, worse.”

“Sorry.” She furrowed her brows.

“That’s not something you need to apologize for, you know that, right? I’m just worried about you.”

“Sorry.” Her face pinched up even more.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, I, just you know. Not sleeping much.”

“I could come over? You said it’s better when there’s sound in your house. I can stomp around for a while.” He huffed a laugh through his nose, giving her the biggest smile he could muster.

“That’s okay. I’m managing, Rob.” She raised one eyebrow. “And besides, I, uh, I won’t be home tonight.”

She made a face at him, pursing her lips so she didn’t smile.

Billy had gotten his own apartment with the money the government had given him, a little thank you for your discretion gift when he was released from the hospital.

He had spent nearly a month in a coma, a month in which Steve had only left his room a handful of times. After waking up, delirious, and in pain, he had spent the next six months in heavy rehabilitation, in daily therapy, both mental and physical, in which Steve practically lived at the hospital with him.

They had bonded more than Robin could ever know, both boys spilling everything to one another, every dark thought, every bad memory.

Long story short, they were inseparable.

“Then have a fun night. And talk to Billy. Tell him you’re struggling.”

“I’m not-”

She stomped her foot, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, okay.”

-

“Shit.”

Steve knew he had a key to Billy’s apartment.

But it wasn’t on his key ring.

“Are you kidding me?” He knocked on the door.

It took Billy a few minutes to come get him.

“I’m sorry, I, I lost my key.” Billy looked tired . It was Thursday. Billy was a stockboy at Meldvald’s on Thursdays. His doctor said getting a job would be nice, that it would help him rejoin society, make him feel good to support himself, all this shit.

Mostly, it just made Billy’s sore.

“It’s okay.”

“No, but, it’s not on my ring! I don’t know where it fell off, it could be anywhere, you might have to change the locks or-”

“Steve! It’s fine. Just get in here.”

Steve snapped his jaw closed. Billy shuffled back to the couch, groaning as he sat down slowly.

“Can I get you something? Have you eaten? I can rub your back if-”

“Harrington, just come sit with me.” Billy was giving him a little half-smile.

Steve stumbled over to the couch, and tucked himself right under Billy’s arm.

“What are we watching?”

“Some soap. There’s been a marathon all evening. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve leaned his head against Billy.

He had no clue what was going on. Had a question on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask about the plot points, the characters.

But he’s bothered Billy enough tonight, making him get up to open the door, always, always bothering-

“Hey, where’d you go?” Billy was stroking one rough hand through his hair.

“Nowhere.”

“Robin called me from the video store.” Steve sighed, burying his face into Billy’s neck. “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m okay.”

“Yeah, you’re always okay.” He said it like he was mad, like he was frustrated with Steve.

He pulled back, sliding to the other end of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Billy was staring blankly at him. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad. What are you even-” he cut himself off. “Steve, talk to me. You’re getting, distant.”

“I’m-”

“Please stop apologizing.”

Steve swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to help you.”

“I-” Steve’s throat was closing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

Billy shifted stiffly, reaching out for Steve’s hand.

“Talk to me, Baby. You know I’ll listen.”

“I, uh, I just.” His jaw was moving, but he couldn’t form any words.

Billy took his hands, pulling him gently.

Steve let himself be tugged, let himself fall into Billy’s lap.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“All of it.”

“Can you, maybe elaborate?”

“Everything. It’s all my fault.” His chest felt pulled tight, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. “Everything, everything. My fault.”

Billy had no fucking idea what to do.

Steve was breathing sharply, his eyes squeezed closed.

He had both hands in his hair, pulling roughly.

“Steve, hey.” He took his wrists, trying to stop him. “Steve, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” Steve shook his head.

“Just, just try to take as deep a breath as you can, okay?”

Billy was trying to remember what his shrink had told him, the tips for dealing with his own panic.

But watching Steve fall apart, well. It was hard for Billy to keep it together.

He sat with Steve, holding his hands until he opened his eyes, until he was breathing without Billy reminding him to do it.

“Steve. Sugar. Talk to me.”

Steve was still slumped over, still had his head in Billy’s lap.

He turned to bury his face in Billy’s thigh.

“Sometimes I feel like the world is crushing me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Can you explain that to me? You said everything was your fault.”

“Like, like Barb. She, it was my fault she died, and my fault the kids almost got hurt in the tunnels, and my fault that Dustin and Robin and Erica got stuck in the lab, and, and, and I’m so bad at taking care of you. I can’t do anything right.”

Billy could feel his tears, wet patches soaking through his sweatpants.

“You do a lot of stuff right!”

“Keith told me he was gonna fire Robin today, because I messed up again.”

“Fuck Keith. No way that creep has firing power. And maybe you should talk to Robin. Or go to your boss about him. He just likes going on a power trip with you.

“And as for, well everything, Pretty Boy, none of that was your fault. Barb was killed by, by a monster-”

“At my house, at my party, in my pool.”

“Still not your fault.”

“I thought she had left, you know? I didn’t know she was out there.”

“That just proves my point! You didn’t know she was out there, you didn’t know what was going to happen. That whole event , it had nothing to do with you. And the kids like, fully kidnapped you to bring you to the tunnels. If anything, that’s my fault for, you know. Doing what I did.”

Billy took a deep breath.

“I know a lot about guilt. I know how it feels like you’re just, you’re drowning. And you’re never gonna get to the surface, but that, that stuff. People make their own choices. You can’t control what other people do, you can just control what you do. And you, you do nothing but good. You just love, and you love, and you love. You always do what you think is best, and that’s what matters.”

“I feel bad all that time. Like, like right now I feel bad because, because of course you feel guilty, and I’m saying shit that doesn’t matter, and my problems they don’t-”

“Don’t you dare say your problems don't matter.” Billy was tangling his fingers through Steve’s hair, playing with it gently. “Your problems matter . They matter to me. It hurts me that you're struggling. It hurts me that I didn’t notice.”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

“You say that like it’s so easy. You take my guilt and you ease it. And that’s what I want for you.” Steve wasn’t crying anymore, but he was still curled up on the couch, still had his face pressed against Billy’s leg.

“I don’t know how. I’ve been so thoroughly crushed under all this that I’m scared of what happens if I claw through it all.”

“Maybe you won’t feel like shit all the time.”

“Feeling like shit is the easy part. It’s predictable.”

“I know. It’s safe .”

“Yeah. What do people even think about if they aren’t thinking about all the problems of the people closest to them and finding ways to blame themselves?” Billy laughed at that. Steve could feel his belly moving next to him.

It was a nice moment.

“I don’t know. That’s what movies and books are for. When you’ve got shit else to think about because you’re not trapped under a mountain of guilt.”

“Probably why I’ve read so few books, then.”

“We need to start watching more movies.”

-

“We need to talk about Steve.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s great to see you. How’s your day?” Robin rolled her eyes. She was leaned over the counter at Family Video, flicking through a magazine.

“He had a break down last night.”

“Finally. He’s been hanging on by a thread for weeks,”

“Yeah, try years.” She looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“He like, unloaded fully. He still blames himself for the girl that got killed in his backyard.”

“Wait, he thinks that’s his fault?”

“Yeah, and the kids in the tunnels, and also you and Dustin and Erica being brought into the whole mess. And also that he’s bad at taking care of me? Which, don’t know how he got that one. He does a really fucking good job taking care of me.”

“Jesus. He’s like, stressed.”

“To put it lightly.”

“So, what’s up? Where do I come in?”

“I’m planning an evening. A We Love Steve Harrington party.”

“I can be snack duty.” He smiled at her, clapping her on the shoulder. “It just us?”

“Yeah. I figured to leave the kids out of this one.”

“Good choice.”

“Be over at seven.” She nodded once, giving him a two-finger salute.

-

Steve was curled up, Billy spooned up behind him when there was a knock on the door.

“Go get that, will you? I’m all stiff.” Steve turned around, looking at Billy all concerned. “Go on. I’m okay.”

Billy had to shove him away before he finally went to answer the door.

“Oh, Robin, uh, hey.” She pushed one of her shopping bags into his arms.

“I was invited for an evening of bolstering you up.”

Billy came lumbering in, throwing himself down on the couch.

“I, don’t get it.”

“Robin’s here because you need some lovin’.” Steve’s bottom lip wobbled.

“That’s really nice.”

“You deserve it.” Billy was looking at him seriously.

Steve tucked himself into Billy’s side, Robin shoving herself next to him on the little couch.

Billy had pulled out all his lumpy blankets, and they had already torn into a box of cookies.

Steve was all warm.

Curled up in the blankets, watching The Aristocats.

“Thank you, guys. For this. It means a lot.”

“Can it, Dingus. Thomas O’Malley’s gonna sing.”

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Bombshell [B. Barnes] - 1

Pairing: British S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: swearing probably, (legal) consumption of alcohol, I think that’s it for this chapter? 

Word Count: 6.3K

a/n: SO stands for Supervising Officer, not Significant Other. See end of chapter for more notes. 

Masterlist  Prologue Next Part

___

It had been months since you had followed Coulson's team onto their giant plane and flew to Nick Fury's secret base. You had parted with the team when Hill arrived at the base and offered you immunity as well as an opportunity to continue working with herself and Natasha which you gladly took, but not before making it clear to Coulson that you would always be loyal to SHIELD and that he should contact you if he needed anything.

It hadn't taken long for him to take you up on that offer.

You had been walking out of the Avengers Tower about a month later, having finished work for the day, when you got the call from a private number. Calls from private numbers were common in your line of work so you hadn't thought anything of it when you picked up.

"Agent Y/L/N?"

"Coulson?" you were shocked to hear his voice. You knew you had said to call if SHEILD needed anything but in truth you had assumed the organization would die out once Coulson and his team had settled their score with Grant Ward and John Garrett.

"Remember when you said to call if I needed anything?"

"Distinctly, sir."

"Again with the 'sir,'" Coulson chuckled, reminding you of his request back at the Hub. "There's a car waiting for you out front if you're interested in hearing me out."

You sighed as you stepped out onto the crowded Manhattan pavement. "Coulson, surely you understand why I wouldn't get into a vehicle with someone I didn't know."

"I do understand," Coulson responded just as you looked up, locking eyes with the man. "That's why I'm driving."

Phil Coulson was parked in front of Avengers Tower in a 1962 red Chevy Corvette.

"You're letting me ride in Lola?"  You gasped excitedly, knowing how much Phil Coulson prized his antique car. "You must really want my help."

"Well, don't get too comfortable," He said as you buckled your seatbelt, "I'm going to have to blindfold you."

"Coulson where exactly are we going?"

"SHIELD's new secret headquarters."

"You resurrected SHIELD?" You couldn't keep the excitement from your voice. Being a SHIELD agent was all you had ever known and the month in which you had presumed it dead was devastating, but hearing that the organization was still operating, albeit in secret, provided you with a sense of relief you couldn't quite explain.

"With Fury's blessing," Coulson responded with a grin before faltering. "I assume you know Fury's alive?"

"It seems I can't stop working with men who are supposed to be dead but aren't." She quipped.

"I suppose you're right." Coulson conceded lightly before returning to business. "I'd like to take you to see the new HQ and meet the team but until you agree to sign on, I'm afraid its location will have to remain a secret."

He held out a blindfold and you sighed reluctantly but took it nonetheless.

"Won't it look a little suspicious, me sitting clearly blindfolded in your convertible?" You questioned, unintentionally stalling putting on the blindfold. "You didn't have any other vehicles available with a bit more discretion?"

"Oh, I could've taken one of the SUVs, but it's like you said: I really want your help."

___

The base was amazing. Originally Peggy Carter's S.S.R. facility, the Playground had been renovated to provide any and everything the underground organization could need. Upon their arrival, Coulson had given you a full tour of the facility, starting with the massive hanger, then the labs, gym, living quarters, and holding cells. The Playground felt homier than the Hub, with its brick walls and warm tones, but it certainly wasn't any less technologically advanced.  

"So, director, where do I sign on?" You asked as you sat across from Coulson in his office.

"Nowhere, yet," Coulson answered, leaning back in his desk chair. "I'd like you to meet the team first."

"Coulson, I already love your team. It would be an honor to work with them again."

"Yes, well, the team looks a little different these days."  Coulson checked his watch. "They should be ready for you now."

You followed the director out of his office and back to the communal kitchen and living room where Coulson seemed to have gathered all his agents.

"We have a few agents out on assignment, but for the most part this is SHIELD" He explained as they stood in the entranceway.

You were a bit underwhelmed by the turnout; only about a dozen agents filled the room, nothing compared to the organization's previous size.

"I know it's not much," Coulson continued, noticing the look of dismay on your face, "We're doing our best to rebuild, trying to recruit as many agents as we can. That's where you come in."

You were broken-hearted to see your beloved organization reduced to a handful of agents but it had only been a month you rationalized, and not many people were likely willing to work for what the United States government had deemed a terrorist organization.

"I already told you I was ready to sign on, Coulson. You're the one who's postponing that."

"You're right." Coulson smiled guiltily, turning to get the attention of his agents. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet our newest addition, Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She hasn't officially signed on yet so be nice to her until she does."

You laughed at that before Coulson gestured for you to go mingle. You immediately beelined for the first familiar face you saw.

"Trip!" You greeted the man excitedly, thrilled, though not surprised, to see that he was still apart of the organization.

"Agent Y/L/N!" He turned to greet you in return. "I hope you're not going to pull a gun on me this time." He teased, referring back to when you had last met at the Hub.

"As long as I have no reason to suspect you're Hydra then you ought to be safe." You quipped back, slightly shocked that you were able to joke about such a traumatic day. "And please, for the love of Christ, call me Y/N."

"Sorry, old habits die hard I guess." Trip apologized sincerely before going right back to their teasing banter. "Now, it's been good to see you, but I'm pretty sure the point of us all being here was for you to get to know the agents you haven't already threatened."

You rolled your eyes in exasperation, though the smile on your face gave away the insincerity of the action. You had only had a few days on the Bus and at the Providence base to truly get to know each other but you knew Trip was a good man and you enjoyed his presence.

"At least go get a beer," Trip said, nodding towards the fridge.

You nodded, agreeing to his idea and insisting you catch up later before heading across the room, though you didn't even make it to the fridge before you was stopped by another agent, this one unfamiliar.

"So, Coulson's got the British Bombshell working for SHIELD again." The deep voice rumbled from behind you and you turned to face the large black man.

"I see my reputation precedes me," You said with a small chuckle, always surprised when people knew who you were, "though I prefer to go by Y/N." You stuck your hand out for the man to shake.

"Mack," the man shared, grasping your hand in a firm shake.

"Well, Mack, I was just going to grab a beer. Would you like one?" You offered, leading the way to the fridge as you chatted. As it turned out Mack was the new head of mechanics, though he wasn't new to SHEILD.

"Going straight for a beer? A woman after my own heart." A British voice spoke out as you turned from the fridge with two beers in hand.

The man nimbly snatched one of the bottles from your hand and Mack rolled his eyes, indicating that this happened often, you handed him the remaining beer before turning back to grab one for yourself. You took a moment to examine the man as you uncapped the bottle. He contrasted with Mack, the white man dwarfed by the other agent's height and built frame. He didn't look like a typical SHIELD agent with his scruffy beard and unrefined physique and you wondered if he was a completely new hire.

"I didn't know Coulson hired another Brit before he even tried to recruit me." You needled as you sipped your beer.

"Ah, finally a familiar accent!" The man exclaimed, "It was starting to feel a little lonely around here. I'm Hunter."

"Y/N." You introduced, shaking hands with the scruffy-faced man. "It can't be too lonely, though, what about FitzSimmons?"

"Isn't much talking from them around here anymore, is there?" Hunter said brashly, assuming that you were already aware of what had happened.

Mack, however, had gone silent, a somber expression on his face.

"There was... an accident." Mack finally spoke. "They both made it out but Fitz has some brain damage and Simmons left."

"Brain damage? But Fitz is still here?" You asked, deciding you would ask Coulson for the details later.

The men nodded, Hunter jerking his head towards the lab across the hall.

"He has issues speaking and using his hands," Mack explained when he saw the pained look on your face as you watched the man wander around, looking lost in his own lab. "He's been isolating himself."

You nodded, setting your half-finished beer on the countertop and excusing yourself, making your way across the hall.

Like with Trip, you had only had a few days with Leo Fitz but he and Simmons had been so warm and friendly towards you, thrilled to have another Brit traveling with them. The three of them had clicked together immediately and it pained you to see that all torn apart.

"Hey, Fitz." You said cautiously as you entered the lab and the man in question spun around.

"Agent... uh... agent-" He stammered, shaking his hand anxiously as he tried to come up with her last name but failed.

"Y/N." You corrected softly, smiling at your friend.

"No, that's not..." He protested, reaching his hands up to grasp his head in frustration.

"Fitz, it's okay." You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I don't want you to call me Agent Y/L/N. We're not colleagues passing in the field, you know me. It's Y/N."

"Y/N." Fitz nodded, relaxing his posture, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

You quickly fell into silence after that, Fitz struggling with words and you unsure of how to navigate the issue. You ended up standing side by side watching as the other agents milled around across the hall. The silence had become comfortable as you stood together, merely observing.

"I'm so glad to be back." You sighed happily, resting your head on Fitz's shoulder.

"But it's, uh, it's different now." Fitz stuttered out harshly, straightening up and causing your head to fall from his shoulder.

You reached out a hand comfortingly, placing it on his shoulder.

"Different doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"I have... I have to." He turned his back to her as he gestured frustratedly towards the lab, unable to come up with the right words.

"Of course, you have work to do." You tried not to be upset by the sudden harshness, you knew he was struggling to adjust. "I'll leave you to it."

You made your way back across the hall, hoping to find Coulson and ask what had happened to SHIELD's most famous scientist duo. However, when you found the director, he was accompanied by an older and shorter man who you recognized immediately.

"Agent Koenig... you're alive?" You managed to get out through your shock. You had seen Agent Koenig's dead body for yourself at Providence. "I thought Ward had killed you at Providence!"

"That was my brother, Eric, actually." The Agent said somberly, though he switched back to chipper in an instant. "I'm Billy Koenig."

"I'm so sorry for your loss Agent Koenig," You spoke sincerely, a frown on your face as you introduced yourself. "I'm-"

"The British Bombshell," Billy gushed, shaking your hand excitedly. "Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Can I get a picture?"

"I beg your pardon?" You gasped, slightly affronted. It was one thing to know your name and your accomplishments but you felt strongly that your line of work shouldn't inspire fandom.

"We'll need a picture of you for your lanyard," Billy explained and you nodded sheepishly.

The picture only took a matter of seconds and you were glad you had been coming off a day at work and not your day off. This way you at least looked presentable.

"Sir- Coulson," you corrected, hoping to get away from Billy, something about the Koenigs unnerved you. "It's been lovely seeing the facilities and meeting the team but I have a job to go to in the morning and we still have a contract to discuss."

They returned to the director's office, passing Mack and Hunter who were now thoroughly engaged in a video game as some of the other agents crowded around to watch. You stopped to hug Skye on your way out of the room, promising the girl that you'd make time to catch up next time you were on base.

"Sir, what happened to Fitz?" You blurted out once they were in the hallway, unable to contain the question that had been nagging you.

"Ward dropped him and Simmons into the ocean in a storage container." You gasped. "They managed to escape but Fitz went nine minutes without oxygen. He's got brain damage, but he's been making very slow improvements. A month ago he couldn't even speak."

"With all due respect, sir, why isn't Ward dead yet?" You asked, your own blood boiling from learning what the traitorous bastard had done, you couldn't even imagine how Coulson's team had to be feeling.

"Because I'd rather watch him suffer in a cell," Coulson answered curtly, taking a seat at his desk. "Now, about that contract."

As it turned out, Coulson had already been in contact with Hill and Fury to work out a system so that you could continue to work for both organizations. You were relieved by this, as it meant you wouldn't have to go through the hassle of making all the arrangements, however, with all of your employers aware of your position, you knew you'd be asked to share classified information as there was no way the Avengers and SHIELD weren't withholding any information from each other.

Coulson explained that you would go back and forth as needed and that SHIELD would provide transportation whenever necessary. Additionally, you would have a room at the base to stay in when you worked with SHIELD as Coulson wanted to limit the frequency of people entering and exiting the base as much as possible to protect its location. You signed immediately.

"I don't suppose that offer of transportation starts now?"

Coulson held up Lola's keys. "I'll drive you home."

___

Though you wouldn't have it any other way, it was certainly difficult working for both organizations. Only Fury and Maria knew of your employment at SHIELD, the organization-- and Coulson's life-- needing to remain a secret from the Avengers. Life was a little easier at the Playground as you were able to tell your colleagues that you worked with the Avengers, however, your work there was highly classified. Not to mention most of the agents weren't aware that Fury was alive and well; another dead man's secret for you to keep.

Secret-keeping aside, working with the Avengers was a bit of a dream itself. There was less fieldwork for you there, the team of well-trained superheroes typically took care of that, but there was still the joy of tracking and taking down Hydra which had become a bit of a passion project for you as of late. Plus, Avengers Tower was fully equipped with a state-of-the-art training facility and plenty of competent sparring partners for when you got too restless at your desk. And really, who wouldn't be thrilled to be working alongside The Avengers? Literal superheroes. It had taken all of your Academy training to maintain your composure when you had first met them.

You had been working at the tower for about a week when Nat had approached you. The Black Widow had been the only Avenger you had seen in that first week, which surprised you as you thought you'd at least meet Tony Stark since you technically worked for him and he owned the building but your paths never crossed. But apparently, on Friday nights the team got together for drinks on the Avengers' floor and it seemed "the team" also included you. You had half-expected to be the only outsider when you stepped off the elevator with Nat that evening but you were relieved to be wrong. The floor's common area was filled with a mixture of heroes and agents, you recognized Sharon Carter at the bar and Callie Hannigan chatting with a few younger agents in one corner. You were relieved to see Callie here, the young scientist was brilliant and there was no question in your mind that Hydra had attempted to recruit her.

Maria had been waiting for the pair by the door, her hair down for once and her usual serious expression relaxed.

"Feels a bit like we're back at the Academy, the three of us at a party together," you remarked nostalgically as you made your way to the bar.

"It's better than the academy," Maria quipped. "This time I won't have to take care of you both when you're hungover tomorrow."

"I don't think I've had a hangover since Nat left the Academy." you teased and Maria laughed knowingly.

"I didn't realize you stopped having fun when I left." The redhead teased back, pouting in faux sympathy.

"Oh, I still had plenty of fun, I just didn't have anyone forcing me to drink vodka all night!"

"Well good thing I'm here, then," Nat said, turning to the bartender to order, "Two vodka sodas please."

"Oh absolutely not!" You protested with a laugh, addressing the bartender yourself. "I'll have a beer please."

"You're no fun."

You and Maria laughed at the sincere pout on the woman's face.

"Sorry Nat, I'm a big girl now," you shrugged with a grin, taking a sip of your beer, "I don't let the girl from across the hall bully me into doing shots with her in the boiler room."

You could tell Natasha was ready with another clever quip to throw back at you but you were fortunately saved from hearing it.

"Romanoff, aren't you going to introduce us to your beautiful friend?" The three of you turned your heads at the comment and you were unsurprised to see that Tony Stark was behind it.

He was standing closer to the middle of the room with the rest of the Avengers, all of whom were now staring at the three of you.

"Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any for you to meet the team." Maria shrugged, and Nat led the way over to the group of men.

"Tony Stark," The man introduced, suavely kissing the back of your hand with a wink. "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

"Extra emphasis on the 'playboy' part I suppose," You smirked, not swooning in the way that you assumed many other women did when met with that greeting.

Tony's ears seemed to perk up at the sound of your accent. "Cap, she's just your type!"

Steve Rogers, who was engaged in a conversation with a man you assumed to be Sam Wilson, turned at the comment but only to roll his eyes at the man.

"Oh come on!" Tony whined, throwing his arms up at his team. "Romanoff and Hill bring a gorgeous British woman to the party and none of you are even paying attention!"

"For the record, Nat and Maria didn't bring me. I was invited as a member of your organization." You said pointedly, growing tired of being underestimated and dismissed as just a pretty face.

"You work here?" Tony balked slightly and you nodded, doing your best not to stare at the man like he was a lunatic. "Shit, I am so sorry. Jesus this is an HR nightmare."

"You can relax Mr. Stark, I have no intention of reporting you to HR." you laughed lightly, hoping to diffuse the tension. "Though I really would suggest you avoid underestimating every beautiful woman who walks through your door, some of us could kill you without breaking a nail."

"I suppose you hired her?" Tony asked Maria, giving the woman a pointed look.

"Trained her myself back in the day," Maria smirked proudly.

"Hey! I helped!" Nat pouted.

"Yeah, helped her get into trouble." Maria shot back with a cheeky grin and Natasha gasped, mouth dropping open.

"Come on, Chris," she said, grabbing your wrist to pull you away from Maria and Tony. "I have cooler people to introduce you to."

You laughed as you followed your friend away from Maria and Tony. The redhead practically dragged you over to the two superheroes having a conversation a few feet away. You stood idly by as Nat greeted the pair before your friend finally brought the attention to you.

"Captain America, Falcon, meet the British Bombshell." Nat introduced you, and if you hadn't been so starstruck you might've rolled your eyes at the nickname. "Y/N Y/L/N, meet Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson."

"Captain Rogers, glad you're not still missing in the Potomac." You smiled in a way that you hoped was confident as you shook the super soldier's hand. Your hand shook slightly in his and you knew it caused your usually firm handshake to weaken.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized you should've also greeted his companion but the Captain America was standing in front of you and you suddenly had tunnel vision.

"I thought that was highly classified SHIELD information?"

"Uh, well, I was a high-ranking SHIELD agent before you took it down, sir." You began talking with your hands, something you only did when you were nervous or anxious. "Nat also brought me in for, uh, information on the w-Winter Soldier."

"That was you?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"The 'sir' really isn't necessary." Steve smiled, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "I'm just Steve Rogers."

"Right, of course. Sorry." You rushed out an apology, cheeks flushing.

As your conversation fell into silence your brain finally caught up with you and you jumped slightly as you realized how rude you had been.

"I'm so sorry, Sam!" You exclaimed, turning towards the other man. "It's great to meet you."

Throughout your interaction, Natasha had stood to the side, watching with a smirk as her friend stumbled through her words. Nat wasn't sure she had ever seen you this flustered, you were usually very composed and confident.

"Are you okay Agent Y/L/N?" Sam asked softly, clearly noticing your odd behavior despite never having met you before. The part of your brain that was currently failing to inform the rest supposed it was due to his background helping veterans. "Your face is very red and you're shaking."

You quickly placed your hands on your cheeks, immediately feeling the heat coming from them and you blushed even more, embarrassed by how embarrassed you were.

"Oh, Christ," you muttered softly, taking a moment to compose yourself. "I'm alright, thank you for asking, I guess I'm just a little starstruck." You acknowledged honestly, and Steve chuckled lightly while Natasha huffed indignantly.

"That's no fair," Nat whined. "You never act like that when you see me! I'm an Avenger too, y'know!"

Your confidence seemed to be restored slightly by Natasha's entrance into the conversation.

"You've got to be kidding me!" You exclaimed, your turn to be indignant. "I've known you since before you were an Avenger! And I've been learning about Captain America since I was a child!"

"They taught you about World War Two when you were a kid?" Sam interrupted, eyes wide in disbelief.

"No! No, my mom was a history professor." You explained, a mixture of joy and grief in your eyes as you spoke about your mother. "She used to weave history into our bedtime stories, real-life superheroes were kind of an obvious choice for that. I was actually a history major before SHIELD recruited me."

"So I was a bedtime story?" Steve asked curiously, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"A historically accurate bedtime story." You corrected with a smile, your heart still racing but you were finally able to find some composure.

"Agent Y/L/N?" A familiar voice spoke from behind you.

"Agent Barton!" You greeted cheerfully, turning around to greet the man. "How've you been? How are Laura and the kids?"

"You know each other?" Steve questioned, brows furrowed in confusion.

"We worked a few ops together back in the day," Clint explained and you laughed, the missions you shared after your graduated were only the tip of the iceberg.

"I hope you didn't forget all that time at the academy," You smirked.

"Believe me I've tried," Clint groaned. "You guys were my worst nightmare at the academy."

"Wait, I'm sorry, you all went to school together?" Steve asked, seemingly only becoming more confused as the conversation continued. "No offense Clint but aren't you a little too old for that to have happened?"

"Agent Barton used to be an instructor at the Academy," You explained while Clint tried to get over the age comment.

"These two were always doing something stupid or dangerous and Maria was usually a few steps behind trying to stop them," Clint continued, pointing an accusatory finger at you and Natasha.

As the evening progressed you got to know more of the famous Avengers. Unfortunately, you were informed that Thor was off-world at the moment, a fact that bummed you slightly. Though you knew from her time with SHIELD that Thor was merely another alien, you still desperately wanted to meet one of the aliens that inspired Norse mythology. Dr. Banner was much more mellow than you had expected given his big green counterpart, and while he was a pleasant conversationalist, the man was very work-oriented and you noticed he tended to bring up whatever projects he was working on as much as possible.

___

Since meeting the Avengers that day you had grown close with many of them, though you suspected your inclusion in the group was mostly Natasha's doing. Steve, Sam, and Nat began regularly joining you for lunch, something you were honored to be apart of as you could tell the three were quite close. Their close-knit team seemed to have adopted you almost immediately after finding out you had helped with their Winter Soldier hunt. It was nice having that sense of family again, and you continued to treasure it even after rejoining your SHIELD family.

You grew particularly close to Steve, the blond super soldier always willing to indulge your curiosities of the past; very few people asked about what life was like back then, always more interested in the serum and what it was like to be a superhero. You were always taught not to believe everything in your history textbooks, "History is written by the victors," your mom would say, reminding you of how biased the textbooks could be, so you sought out first-hand accounts whenever you could, and Steve Rogers held a wealth of information in his young mind and eidetic memory. Steve found your treatment of him refreshing and eagerly entertained your interests and requests, even offering to take you with him on a trip to D.C. to visit Peggy Carter.

The British agent was one of your favorite topics to ask Steve about. You had grown up idolizing Peggy Carter, learning about everything she did to aid the war effort and further women's' rights in your history classes. Your adoration of the woman only grew when you joined SHIELD and learned everything Carter had done in both the S.S.R. and SHIELD, and now you were even working part-time in the woman's old base.  After a few months of retelling story after story about Peggy, Steve came up with the idea to bring you with him to meet her, an offer you readily accepted.

"I cannot believe I'm going to meet Peggy Carter," You said breathlessly, your leg shaking anxiously as you sat across from Steve on one of Stark's private jets. "She is my-"

"Idol," Steve finished for you with a smirk, "That's the third time you've said that today and probably the millionth since I offered to let you come with."

You blushed guiltily, hoping you weren’t annoying the man.

"I really can't thank you enough for bringing me along," you said earnestly, "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Your anxious behaviors persisted through the rest of the hour and fifteen-minute flight; it was short compared to the majority of flights you had been on in your life but it felt like an eternity.

A car was waiting for you when the plane touched down which brought you to the hotel you would be staying at overnight. Steve wasn't a huge fan of airplanes and preferred to limit how much time he spent on them each day so even though this was a brief trip that wouldn't take all day, you’d be flying back to New York tomorrow. Once you had dropped your belongings off in your respective hotel rooms you began the journey to Peggy's retirement home.

Steve had insisted you walk as the hotel was only a few blocks away from the retirement home and you were grateful for the decision. The fresh air and constant movement managed to momentarily quell your anxious energy and the crowded DC streets gave you something else to focus on. Each new person you passed was another threat to asses and while you would usually dismiss this overly paranoid behavior, you excused it today. You was with Captain America after all and Hydra wasn't even close to being destroyed. You both likely had targets on your backs, you rationalized, and so you remained vigilant. If Steve noticed, he didn't say anything, something you were thankful for.

"Hey, Peg, how's my best girl?" Steve asked softly as he walked into the with a clear sense of familiarity before turning back to you, standing awkwardly in the doorway, not wanting to intrude, but Steve beckoned you into the room. "I've got someone I want you to meet."

"Steve!" Peggy gasped excitedly when you moved closer. "Did you finally bring your girlfriend?"

Your anxious energy seemed to vanish once you had stepped into the room. It was strange, meeting Peggy wasn't nearly as bad as meeting Steve had been despite Peggy having become something of a role model for you since joining SHIELD. Yet as you observed the grey-haired woman laying in the bed, just having mistaken you for Steve Rogers' girlfriend, you felt oddly at ease.

You couldn't help but giggle at the look of abject horror on Steve's face at the assumption and though Peggy Carter was well into her nineties and Steve had warned you of the woman's Alzheimer's, the former agent seemed to be just as sharp as ever that day as she scrutinized your body language.

"He's been telling me about this woman he likes for months now, but he wouldn't tell me anything about her other than that she's tenacious and they work together." Peggy frowned at Steve with mock irritability.

"Oh, really?" You smiled gleefully at this new information and Steve groaned. "We will definitely be discussing this later, Rogers."

Peggy's ears perked up at your voice and a devilish grin to match yours grew on her face.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you have a type!" She gasped excitedly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"P-pardon me?" Steve stuttered out, clearly uncomfortable with the way this conversation was proceeding between the love of his life and one of his closest friends.

"Tenacious and British," Peggy supplied, grinning at her, incorrect, revelation, and you couldn't help but fan the flames.

"I'm a SHIELD agent too, ma'am." You grinned at Steve's death glare, the supersoldier knowing exactly what you were doing. "Or, well, I was before..." you trailed off mournfully, gesturing off at the distance to convey the disaster that came out of Project Insight, needing to uphold your cover.

Peggy gasped excitedly, grinning at Steve who just groaned again.

"I hate to burst your bubble, Peg," He sighed, glaring at you, "But this ain't my girlfriend. Agent Y/N Y/L/N is a very dear friend of mine and she's been asking me question after question about you for months so I figured it might be nice for the two of you to meet."

"Well, any friend of Steve's is a friend of mine," Peggy smiled, despite her girlfriend theory having been proven wrong. "It's nice to meet you, Agent Y/L/N."

Your heart pounded proudly at that statement. Peggy Carter was glad to meet you and had even insinuated friendship.

"Y/N is fine, ma'am." You said bashfully, your awkwardness apparently choosing now to kick in. "And the pleasure is all mine."

"Peggy is fine, Y/N." The former agent mimicked your correction and you grinned happily.

The three of you chatted amicably for a few hours. Steve and Peggy happily sharing stories about the "good old days," you and Peggy venting about the treatment of women in the workplace, especially within intelligence communities, and discussing more lighthearted topics like the similarities between Tony and Howard Stark. You desperately wanted to talk to Peggy about the new SHIELD, how the organization she founded was still operating in its intended role, how they had renovated her old base, but SHIELD's existence was classified now, especially to Steve Rogers. However, you did manage to slip in an innocuous compliment or two about the old SSR base.

After a while, you excused herself from the room. You knew Steve's time with Peggy was sacred and while you were eternally grateful for the opportunity to be apart of it, you didn't want to monopolize all their time. Instead, you opted to wait outside the building. You had noticed a small park nearby when you and Steve had been walking over and thought it would be a peaceful place to wait. Certainly better than the waiting room of a retirement home.

It was sitting on that park bench that you noticed him. Or rather, that you noticed him again. You knew you had seen the man standing across the street from the retirement home before but you couldn't quite place him. It wasn't until he lifted a gloved hand to tuck a strand of dark hair behind his ear that you realized you had seen him when you and Steve had entered the building hours earlier. At the time you had found the man's use of gloves in such beautiful weather odd, but ultimately dismissed him as innocent enough. Now, however, you weren’t so sure.

What were the odds that the same man would be standing across the street from that very building hours apart?

You knew you were likely being paranoid again, but in your line of work paranoia was called vigilance and so you continued to observe the man. In addition to gloves, the man was wearing a red henley and jeans, an innocent enough choice if it wasn't about seventy-five degrees out. Plus his dark shoulder-length hair was kept down, rather than pulled up into the man-bun style that wasn't uncommon these days. Christ, the man had to be sweating!

You had spent four years at the Academy mastering the art of surveillance, honing your ability to observe without being observed. You were good at it, your instructors had called you natural, but that didn't seem to stop you from being caught that day. It was like the man could sense your gaze, you had only been observing him for a moment when he turned to stare straight at you. You could've sworn your heart stopped when you saw his face.

Even with the baseball cap attempting to obscure it, there was no question in your mind: the Winter Soldier couldn't have been more than fifty feet away from you.

No, you thought, remembering what Steve had said about his final battle with the man, it was Sargent James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th who was staring at you.

You weren’t sure exactly what to do but you felt certain that you needed to make contact. The man had been brainwashed by Hydra for decades and was credited with at least two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years. If there was still any part of Hydra left in his mind he was a potential threat to civilians. You couldn't let him walk away, but if it really was Sargent Barnes in there then you couldn't arrest him either. If Steve was right, then James Barnes hadn't committed any of those crimes and was instead a man lost in time, likely with the weight of the guilt of those crimes. No, you’d have to take matters into your own hands.

You stood slowly, hoping to be able to have a verbal conversation with the man but even from the distance you could see the way he tensed at your action. Instead, you reached into your purse, ignoring the way the man flinched, likely assuming you were reaching for a weapon, and pulled out a pen and an old business card you found shoved in there. You jotted down a small message on the back along with the number of one of your many burner phones before walking back towards the retirement home and pretending to accidentally drop the paper as you went.

You hoped the man got her message, but if not, well, burner phones were meant to be thrown away.

___

a/n: I almost bumped Bucky’s first appearance to the next chapter but figured how to make it fit here. I hope I did Peggy Carter justice. I know realistically that at 95 years old she would probably be a lot different from the way I wrote her but I like the idea that she would be just as sharp and youthful as ever on her good days and even though she likely still feels the same heartbreak as Steve that their chance at happiness together was ripped away, she got a chance to move on and be happy and wants the same for him, hence the girlfriend conversation. Speaking of, any guesses on who Steve’s coworker crush is? 

Also, I know that canonically Nat and a lot of other agents didn’t go to the Academy but for all intents and purposes of this fic every potential SHIELD agent has to go to the Academy before entering the field. 

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

I would do it all again (NSFW)

Ride or Die Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Mona and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after the first book.

Summary: After what happened at the parking lot, each member of the crew tries to build a new life, following the “every man for himself” motto. But Annie doesn’t agree with that and tries to pull them back together, especially Mona, who she has been waiting for too many years.

Warnings: NSFW

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

I would do it all again - Part 3

          Annie was already asleep on the couch by the time Mona had returned. There was a book opened on the floor, a half empty mug of tea and something stupid passing on TV. She didn’t hear the sound of the door, but felt fingers caressing her hair, earning a sleepy sigh and a slow stretch from the girl. Eyes opened to face a beautiful woman leaning in to kiss her on the lips. Was that a dream? Annie had that dream so many times before.

         “Ouch! Hey!” Mona complained when felt a pinch on her forearm. “What was that for?”

         “To check if you’re real.” She whispered, sitting down to make room for two.

         “You’re supposed to pinch yourself, dumbass. To wake you up, not the person you’re dreaming with.”

         “Oh, but it’s more fun to pinch you. And if this were just a dream, I wouldn’t wanna wake me up so soon.”          

         The Lebanese didn’t argue against that. Instead, all she wanted to do was to pull the girl closer, kiss her a little bit longer, roam hands over her body… Remember how Annie was soft and easy to tease. After that much time, it was like nothing had changed, but everything was different, all at once. Six years felt like too long.

         Like she could hear those thoughts, Annie threw her arms around Mona’s neck, pushing her lips into a sudden deep kiss. One of Mona’s fear was for them not to be on the same page regarding sex. They had only one experience together, the girl’s first time to be exact, and if Dom was right about it, then Annie didn’t date anyone after that.

         Her fear proved to be wrong, though. So wrong.

         “Are you sure?” Mona’s husky voice sounded eager to continue, but she kept her hands to herself, waiting for a confirmation… Which came by Annie crawling to her lap, those kisses still deep and breathless.

         “Hell, yeah. Stop worrying and touch me, goddammit”.

         That was sufficiently clear. Mona was bursting in heat inside, her arms holding the woman in a way there was no space between then. Their kissing lead to removing clothes, tripping, and finding the path to the bedroom in the dark. A naked Annie was thrown in bed, breath taken away, fingers holding the sheets strongly while cursing and begging not to stop. It was hard, fast, hot. She could feel her body burning, and the more Annie begged, the more she received, her hips rocking against Mona’s hand. The feeling brought back flashbacks from prom night, and just like then, she arched the body and came on that woman’s hands, unable to hold it back any further.

         “You’re still easy, aren’t you…” Mona placed fiery kisses along the girl’s neck, capturing her mouth in the end. “Damn, I pictured this so much…”

         “Did you, huh?” Annie chuckled, trying to recover herself. Suddenly, she pushed Mona to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling before her with a mischievous smile. “Have you been touching yourself picturing me between your legs?”

         Mona’s dark eyes locked with hers, desire written all over them. “Why don’t you put your pretty mouth on me so I can see if my imagination was right?”

         That made Annie bit her lips, but it wouldn’t happen so easily, no. She decided to play with Mona’s body: kissing down the belly, nibbling her inner thing, one finger sliding slowly against the entrance, but never going in… The woman growled and complained, opening her legs even more. When Annie placed a light kiss against her clit, she looked up to meet those demanding dark eyes, a defiantly tone on her voice: “Make me.”

         Mona immediately gripped her by the wrists. In a sudden movement, she pulled Ann back to bed, holding those arms above her head. “Open your mouth”, she whispered against the girl’s ear, causing a shiver of anticipation. Holding the wrists pinned on the bed, Mona spread her legs and fit Annie’s face between them. A loud moan came right after feeling her tongue moving eagerly inside, tasting everything around before sliding up to her clit.

         “Don’t you dare stop” said Mona, hips moving on the same rhythm, so close to peak her body was trembling already. She had lost her strength and that made an opening for Annie to retreat her arms, grabbing the woman’s butt and burring the tongue inside her right when she came. The moan that accompanied it was so loud it echoed through the apartment. The most delicious sound Annie had ever heard.

         Touching proved to be easy. That night and at others. They found synchrony with sex, fucking around like a recently married couple. Morning, afternoon, nights… There was no better time than now, and no better place than the entire house. They even fucked in the car once, after Mona bended over to take her earphones and that arouse Annie too much.

         A few days later, both fell on the bed, sweaty and tired. This time, Mona was awfully quiet… As she had been for most of the day.

“Are you okay?” Annie turned to look at her, but the woman’s face was staring at the ceiling.

         “Yeah, I am.” Mona sighed, Dominick’s words still flying on her head, each day a little louder. “I… We should… Talk. About things. Some of it. Argh, goddammit!”

         “It’s okay…” Annie’s fingers caressed her arm to comfort. “Why don’t I ask you questions, and you just answer the ones you want? Sounds better?”

         A nod. The hard expression of a statue.

         “Tell me if I go too far, alright?” she waited for another nod, but Mona only arched an eyebrow. “Ok. So. Practical things first. Do you want to stay here? I don’t mean forever or for a long time or… Just, for now. Do you want to stay here for now? For as long as you like. God, I’m terrible at it too, ain’t I?”

         “Yes. For both questions.”

         Annie chuckled. “Fine. Moving on. Are you comfortable with the idea of opening an auto shop with Toby and Ximena in the future?”

         “Ye… Wait, what? With them? How…?”

         “We’ve been in touch.” She smiled mischievously. “C’mon, I had to figure out a plan. I knew you’d wanna see them again, even though you tried to hide it. The place seemed perfect. Two huge apartments with an auto shop all set. There’s even enough room for Ximena to have a tattoo studio, which she’s totally on board for. Toby already has a mechanic license. We just need his parole to be over. In the meantime, there’s a lot to renovate down there, I only fixed the apartments.”

         Mona couldn’t believe it. Her mouth was slightly opened. “So, the door in front of ours…”

         “It’s another apartment just like this one. Twins.”

         “Damn, Ann. You really thought this through.” She bit her thumb, still wondering. The picture was so good. To live next to each other, put their hands on cars again… “What about Colt and Logan? Know anything about ‘em?”

         “No. I haven’t seen Colt ever since the day you were shot. And Logan is in touch with Toby and Ximena, visiting them. We talked over the phone a couple times. But he doesn’t know about the plan. I wasn’t sure you’d like the shop idea.”

         Mona sighed, mad at herself for actually liking it so badly. “I do. A little. Move on to the next question.”

         “Are you… Uhm… Is there someone… Who wouldn’t appreciate the idea of us… You know…” Annie looked away, preferring to just stare at her hands. “Oh, fuck it. Do you have someone? From the inside?”

         Mona’s heart speeded. That was the window she needed to talk about what happened in prison, to explain herself. But the picture of their future with the auto shop was so temptingly close… “No. I don’t.”

Not a lie. Not the whole truth, though.

         Annie tried not to look happy about that answer. And failed. “Ok. Noted. That’s important information.”

         “Gosh, you didn’t change at all, did ya? You’re blushing like a teen.”

         “Stop it!” She covered her face, leaning forward and hiding herself on Mona’s shoulder. Her voice sounded muffled, but still understandable. “Next question. But that’s more likely to be a promise.”

         “Oh, gee. That can’t be good.”

         “Can you try not to do anything that could damage your parole and send you back to jail, please? Six years was enough. I missed you.”

         The Lebanese rested her nose on the top of Annie’s head, smelling her scent for a while. She hated promises. Old Mona would have laughed and teased her about it. The idea of living a peaceful life with a steady job and the same girl on her bed was never the plan. But when she saw Annie drive away from the hospital door, things changed. It wasn’t only prison that damaged Mona, even though it helped a lot. It was losing Annie. Fearing, every day, that at any time that gorgeous girl would stop sending letters and disappear. Find a person, marry, and leave their story behind.  

         And then, it didn’t. Annie never left.

         Letters kept coming, gifts, calls... Every Sunday, Mona loved to hear the guard saying, “visit’s waiting for you”, though she never moved from the bed. Annie wasn’t like Ada. Ada let Mona to go to jail, chose it, and then vanished for good. Ada never cared. Two very different people, but it took a while for Mona to believe that. Seeing her ex-girlfriend in prison, right on the next cell, was a low blow and a trip to memory’s land she didn’t want to take. 

          And what they did in there…

         “I promise.” Mona whispered through a heavy breath. “I’ll try.”

         God knew how she was willing to try anything for that girl.

[smarchit]

Flash Dance pt 2

Edit: this is ch 2 of the fic that was formerly known as “A Little Distraction”

"Y-you don't know me," Maxwell stammered. "Please, this really isn't what it looks like."

He was more than well aware of what this could do to his image. Imagine if word got out that Maxwell Lord was a pervert? Stocks would drop faster than he could imagine. And his pride? Well, it would be nonexistent. He wasn't a pervert, but that isn't how his investors would see it. 

"Mr. Lord, may we discuss this in my office?"

He was stunned when she turned on her heel and walked into the studio. He glanced at his watch and shook his head before he followed her inside.

The ladies were still in the middle of warm ups and stretches when he passed. He heard them whispering his name. They recognized him. Everyone did. Everyone knew who he was. 

The young woman shut the door to her office when he joined her. She perched at the corner of her desk and gestured to one of the vibrantly patterned chairs in front of her. 

Her position was one Maxwell was familiar with. Being on the receiving end of that look was incredibly uncomfortable and he realized this is what employees and investors see all the time from him. He swallowed nervously as he took a seat before her. 

"You sent me a pretty sizable check," she replied, tucking one leg beneath her. "So now what, are you scoping out the property? What are you gonna put here? Tanning salon for your cronies? I'm surprised you came down here yourself. Don't you guys have like, a scout or something?"

Maxwell looked up at her, shocked. "It's not-- it isn't like that, really," he said. He was mentally kicking himself. He'd had this whole suave speech planned and everything. Flash that dazzling smile. But honestly, this was not the reaction he usually got from people when he gave them a check of that size. He had never been met with hostility as thanks for cash. 

She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. "Mr. Lord, I don't know what you're up to, but know this: I am not getting rid of this property. I'm not interested in selling."

Maxwell dug his nails into his palms as he stared up at her from his seat in the chair. He suddenly became aware that he did not like to be in this submissive position. 

He shot out of his seat like it had burned him. Honestly, he was more surprised by her abrasive personality than anything. What had he expected her to be like? Not this callous woman before him, for sure. He could be angry too, make no mistake.

"Listen here, sweetheart," he grumbled, his face dangerously close to hers. "I'm not interested in buying your little studio."

"So you were just feeling generous then?" she scoffed. She brought her fists up in a gesture that mirrored his from television. "Want us to 'achieve greatness' or whatever? Can't have a business on your block tank? Bad for your image?"

Maxwell was floored by how forward she was with the whole deal. "It isn't like that. Please. I..."

She scoffed and pushed herself off her desk. She drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't much, compared to Maxwell. 

Instinctively, he puffed out his chest. It was a move that worked in previous business transactions several times before. He didn't come here to intimidate anyone.

She squared her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. The gesture pushed her chest forward slightly, on full display for him.

Maxwell glanced down and then swallowed thickly. 

"I just heard your business might not be doing well," he mumbled. "I'm not interested in buying this building - or any building."

"I never knew Maxwell Lord to be a charitable man," she muttered as she jutted her hip to the side. "What's the catch?"

He held up one hand to dismiss any thoughts she might have. If there was one thing he disliked, it was assumptions about him. He knew people had plenty, and if he could stop them when they came to light, well, he did everything he could.

"No catch. I just... got stuck in traffic right outside the other day. I saw you in the window and, uh... my driver. He got to talking about how his sister went here. Told me it might be struggling."

The young woman eyed him suspiciously, her own eyes searching his, trying desperately to find a lie. Satisfied when she deemed him to be telling the truth, she gave a nonchalant shrug.

"And if we aren't? You want your money back or something?"

"Keep it. Renovate the place or something if you want."

Maxwell grabbed the cup carrier and pastry bag and turned to go without another word. As he stormed out of the studio, he wasn't sure if the thumping in his ears was due to the loud bass of the aerobics music or from his own heartbeat in his ear drums. 

What a fucking embarrassment that was, Lord. 

It was nearly a month later before he saw her again. Three separate corporate dinners, two major board (bored) meetings, and one uneventful trip to Gotham until he saw her. 

Maxwell was on a Wednesday afternoon lunch meeting with a few board members at some bistro on Fifth. He was not paying attention to a single thing that had been said after his second whiskey neat, the mindless drivel of big business that was just so fucking boring. He hated the way they talked about their attractive young interns and the secretaries they hired and then slept with behind the backs of their wives. The secret double lives they left. 

It all sickened him. 

He was clenching and unclenching his fist on his thigh, trying to think of either an excuse to get up and leave or a good reason to punch Mitchel Sandusky in the side of the head when he saw her. 

She was seated with another young woman at the little Mediterranean bistro across the street where he was currently trying not to die in. 

Maxwell felt his throat close up just a tiny bit and he gave a cough to try and distract himself. He couldn't believe it. Their first meeting hadn't exactly gone the way he had wanted it to and, while he was almost certain she didn't want to see him again, he was still thrilled with the prospect of how close she was to him. 

If he could just get out of here...

"Gentlemen," he said, mortified with the slight waver in his voice, "I should--"

"You still have that ancient hag secretary of yours, Lord? What was her name? Katherine?"

"Karen," he said tersely.

"She must be real sweet in the sheets if you keep her around, eh, Maxwell?" joked Brian Taylor, some young money douchebag from out west. He made a repulsive squealing noise that caused Young, one of his partners, to snort water through his nose.

"She's the only one I found competent enough not to fuck up my busy schedule," Maxwell snapped. "And she's not ancient. She's, like, forty. Her birthday was like, a month ago."

"Well, I wouldn't want to have to look at her all day," muttered Gavin Oren, a tech CEO from midtown. "I can fix her up with a good plastic surgeon. He only gets a little handsy with his female clientele."

Maxwell felt bile rise in his throat. He really needed to get out of here before he killed someone.

The young waitress came over, blessedly, and Maxwell took that as his cue and excuse to leave. He paid his bill, muttered some half-assed bullshit excuse about having to check on a project, and headed towards the door. 

Through the curtains, he could still see the dance instructor and her friend seated at the table across the street. 

He quickly made a dash for the crosswalk and half-jogged across the road to where she was seated. Before he approached the table, he glanced in the window of a nearby jewelry store, fixed his hair and adjusted his tie. 

"-- with Robbie? Gross, no!" squealed the dancer's friend between sips of her diet Coke. "I'd rather choke!"

"Mary Beth, really? He's like, a lawyer now, right?"

"Yeah, but he-- can we help you?"

Both girls turned to face Maxwell as he stood over their table. He swallowed thickly and looked down at the young woman he'd only barely spoken with.

"Can we talk?"

Mary Beth scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Look, Janine, I gotta go anyway. Frito is done at the groomers. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

The dark-haired woman gathered her jacket and bag and scooted around Maxwell and down the street.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," Maxwell said bluntly.

"Yeah, I think we did too," she said coolly. She took a drink from her glass and gestured wordlessly at the now unoccupied chair across from her.

"You wanna explain to me why you sent me a check that big? And don't give me that excuse that you heard my studio is failing or whatever," she said, crossing her arms.

"I just... saw you through the window and I thought you were pretty..."

She let out a bark of laughter and raised her eyebrows at him. "And you thought what? You'd write me a check to try and win me over or something? I really can't believe you'd think I could be won over so easily. I'm not like that. It takes more than money or gifts or... whatever, okay?"

"It isn't like that? Please. Look, can we, I don't know, start over?"

She sighed and chewed on her lip. "Fine. But I don't want any of your put-on horseshit I see on TV. Just two people, got it?"

Maxwell tensed for a moment and then nodded. "Fine." He stuck out his hand for her to shake. "Maxwell Lord."

"Janine Reeder." She said softly as she took his hand. 

He glanced at her hand when she shook it. Plastic bracelets, one thin band on her finger, chipped pink nail polish. So very different than other hands he'd shaken over the years. It felt more fucking genuine than any interaction ever in his entire life. 

[m39]

History of the Creed - Part 1: Assassin’s Creed 2

So… I’ve decided to do a marathon of my favorite game series, Assassin’s Creed (minus [probably] the first one) because Valhalla (which I’ll not buy until one year after its release) and some part of me decided that I should review them.

But wait a minute… I hear one you saying. Don’t you have over 250 Doom WADs to check?

Well, yes. But then again we kind of like to pile on new idea after another to do when there’s an opportunity. There is still the Galaxia WAD in make for one of you who liked my WAD reviews but I believe that the AC reviews will take a lead for now.

Also the reason that I’m not reviewing Assassin’s Creed 1 is because now when I think about it, it doesn’t sound that good as it was.

You are having a PTSD attack over flags, Templars and “side missions”.

Okay, let’s talk about something else. What I’ve decided to do is to play these games in a semi-completionist style, in other words: if there are some side activities in missions, I am not expecting to replay them to get it all 100% because I would go nuts restarting the mission/control point every time I failed this one, specific side activity. But the rest as in: all collectibles, side missions and places to clear? I’ll do my best to do them all… Even Odyssey…

…

I’m fucked.

But enough of that. Let’s talk about the game that is proclaimed to be the best game in this series.

ASSASSIN’S CREED 2 (The original PC release in Europe: March 5, 2010)

PLOT

It is Italy in the early Renaissance times. You are Ezio Auditore da Firenze, a young lad from a family of nobles who’s head of the family, Giovanni, is an Assassin. One day you find it out when your father and brothers are imprisoned and the next day they end up executed so you swear revenge on those Templar MoFoes for what they did.

Ah, revenge, the good, old plot device that never gets boring when it’s done right. And by being done right I mean when it has a nicely written characters. And that character is Ezio. I mean, who doesn’t like him? This motherfucker oozes with charm and personality. And Roger Craig Smith only solidifies it. He even gets a good character development. Example: When Ezio kills the guy who betrayed his family, his next goal is to run away to Spain with his mother and sister. After living two years in his uncle Super Mario’s villa, training under his eye and reading about Assassins and Templars, while still wanting to escape Italy, he’s now having a doubts about this plan and not until the harsh talk with his uncle decides that he’ll help destroy the Spaniard’s band of goons and get a revenge on him.

The secondary characters are fine but that’s it. They are perfectly okay with few of them standing out like Leonardo da Vinci (seriously, your best friend is Leonardo. Fucking. Da Vinci.). The villains are also just okay. Some of them have a personality of a Saturday cartoon villain, some of them are more dimensional. Rodrigo Borgia however goes to the former group. I mean, I don’t find him terrible at all, it just I wish he were better. But props to Manuel Tadros for playing him. He did a very good.

Oh yeah there is also some stuff in the modern times. It’s not bad but it basically exists only to move the plot forward and give us a reason why you can see the stuff from the past. But hey, the Desmond Saga is still better than this Initiate bullshit of the modern days plot.

GAMEPLAY

Assassin’s Creed 2 is basically the first game on steroids. You assassinate targets, you sometimes run using your parkour skills and sometimes fight with the enemies. There are some new stuff when you care this to Assassin’s Creed 1 like: Being able to use two hidden blades at once, healing yourself with medicine, shooting enemies with your loud hidden pistol, using smoke bombs, throwing money on the ground (LEAVE ME ALONE YOU BARD HYENAS!) and poisoning people, making them go apeshit (which I used only once in this run, in 13th sequence to be exact). Asides from the regular guards and archers there are three new types of enemies: Brutes, the heavy armored fatsoes, Agiles that can dodge your regular attacks and Seekers, who have a long ranged weapon and can easily find you in a haystack. You can also buy new, better weapon/armor and a bigger sacks for your knifes/medicine/poison. There is also a notoriety meter. When you fill it to 100% the guards will automatically be suspicious when you are in their line of sight. You can decrease it by ripping off posters, paying off heralds and killing the witnesses.

However, in spite of all of this crap that was added, this game feels easier than the first one. It’s not like it’s somewhat major con for me (I would rather play the game that is too easy than too hard) but I can understand some of you have a big problem with that. Imagine this: in theory, when you are spotted, you must use your abilities to run away from the enemies and use combat only as the last resort. But then I ask: why should you do that?! You are so powerful, you can destroy the entire Venetian army in 10 minutes! You are getting more durable and powerful with each sequence! Agiles can die by one counter attack! You can steal Brute’s/Seeker’s weapon, then one-shot them and then use their weapon to one-shot another fool who’s stupid enough to attack you! The fights are that easily! Sure it’s kind of tougher than I remember but still! Even if you don’t want to fight, smoke bombs helps you tremendously in both running away and fighting. Not to mention the enemies being stupid and that they couldn’t catch you most of the time.

Changing slightly the subject, you can also hire mercenaries/courtesans/thieves to help you distract guards. They are pretty helpful in missions, both the main ones and the side ones but outside of them they are rather useless because... well... I already explained you that.

Remember how in the first game you couldn’t swim? Well, now you can do this and use gondolas. Personally, however, I felt like I was faster on my own than on a venetian mini-boat.

ACTIVITIES

There is many stuff to do in this game. Like much more than you think. You can for instance buy paintings, collect money from chests/codex pages/feathers, find glyphs and solve their riddles, (like in previous game) you can climb on viewpoints to reveal a huge chunk of map, deliver letters, race to beat the best time of members of the guild of thieves, beat up unfaithful husbands, collect 6 seals to get Altair’s armor and fund for renovations of many buildings in Monteriggioni. Most of this stuff gives you more and more money every 20 in-game minutes by increasing the town’s status (which you have to withdraw from your villa).

In other words, the predecessor of your typical, modern, Ubiconic game. Personally I enjoyed doing these stuff but be warned; if you want to go after feathers, check a guide on their locations (same with Monteriggioni’s roman gods’ statues). I know at least one guy who went insane after trying to find the last one in Tuscany.

Liquid Bogan (in the background): F̴e̸a̴t̸h̶e̵r̵e̵s̷ ̶a̴r̷e̵ ̵l̴i̸f̵e̶,̴ ̶b̶r̸o̷t̷h̸e̸r̶.̸ ̶W̷e̵ ̶m̵u̵s̴t̴ ̸c̷o̸l̴l̴e̴c̸t̵ ̷a̸l̸l̷ ̸f̸e̸a̶t̷h̴e̶r̴e̵s̵,̶ ̷y̵i̵s̵?̶

He’s definitely fine.

THE GRAPHICS AND SOUND

This is where it turns into mixed-bag. While the sound effect are still very good, the graphics however, didn’t age well. Sure, the landmarks still look awesome and I love some of the details like the fact that some dust from buildings comes off when you climb but the character models… I don’t think they survived the time after the game’s release. The textures look sometimes blurry as shit, facial animation looks from time to time wonky, it looks especially bad in cutscenes. Then again, I don’t think people liked how they looked even in 2009 since I remember watching a review from my native country and the reviewer said that the character models lack polish when you take a closer look.

The soundtrack though… Jesus. Like, what can be said about it after so many people said earlier? There is a reason why people are calling it one of the best soundtracks in video games of all times. I would choose you three of those worth a listening but asides from the first three in the official soundtrack (for obvious reasons) there is too much to choose. So, here’s the whole bloody soundtrack.

STABILITY

Even though I played the PC version (and I heard that the PC version was a mess at the beginning) I didn’t really had many problems. Framerate was constantly smooth and I didn’t notice any drop in it. There were however 2 nasty bugs. The first one crashed the game when you have to choose if you want to play the memory or not; it happened at least 3 times. The second was when trying to assassinate Antonio Maffei and that monk fucker decided to noclip himself into the tower. Like- What the- WHAT THE FU-

Technical Difficulties.

Maybe it was because I paid the nearby herald. I don’t know.

SUMMARY

Despite its graphics getting somewhat dated and the game being kind of buggy, Assassin’s Creed 2 is still a fantastic game and I fully recommend it to you. Check it for yourself (if you haven’t already) and while at it, tell me your opinion about this game.

Thank you all for reading this long-ass review and I’ll see you next time.

Bye!

[satonthelotuspier]

A Very Hallmark Untamed Christmas

So I spent my Sunday writing this gimmicky piece that makes no sense in either small town America or Ancient Cultivational China. It is full of hallmark style cliche with a WangXian twist. 

Updated so whole fic is included below, I am potato and didn’t realise tumblr didn’t have a limit on text posts

Plot bunnied by this post

Wei Wuxian kicked the tyre of his car in temper. If Nie Huaisang had been on hand it would have been his friend he’d quite like to have kicked, it being that man who’d convinced him he really had to make the trip home this year, with his recent breakup and the fact it had been a while since he’d seen any of his family he’d said it was the perfect time.

Never mind the fact it had been thirteen years since he’d been chased out of Cultivation, Wyoming, population: assholes.

He dragged the spare tyre out and tossed it in the road beside the jack and wrench he’d already dug out.

And to top it all off it was starting to snow.

“Perfect” Wei Wuxian growled, starting to change the tyre as quickly as possible, snow in Wyoming could be brutal.

He was halfway through the process when a police cruiser pulled over behind his car and the driver got out and walked over.

“Do you need some help?” the gentle voice was vaguely familiar to Wei Wuxian and he looked up from his task. They both recognised each other at the same time. To be honest, there wasn’t really much mistaking the face that looked more like it belonged on the catwalk than behind the long arm of the law. It’s distinctive features had only lost a little of the soft roundness of youth that he remembered, now it was all elegant angles and arching brows over soft light amber eyes.

“Wei Ying?” there was shock in Lan Zhan’s voice.

“Lan Zhan” he rose to his feet and almost reached out to shake hands before he remembered his were covered in grease. So much for his manicure. “So you’re sheriff now” he said as he saw the police badge pinned to the other’s shirt.

“Mn, are you back to visit your family?”

“Among other things” he confirmed, “How are yours?”

And oh my god, if he had to go through a month of this kind of awkward small talk with people he barely knew anymore he’d just die.

They talked a little more of inconsequential things while Lan Zhan helped him finish up the tyre change and if he felt a little guilty for letting Lan Zhan take the lead while he held back to check out Lan Zhan’s undeniably fine ass then so be it; he deserved the eyeful as reward for putting up with the small town small talk.

Once changed he was bundled into his car and sent off towards town before the snow got worse with Lan Zhan’s “I’ll see you around, Wei Ying” ringing in his ears.

And if he kept checking the rear-view mirror until he turned a bend in the road then it was just road safety and nothing else.

***

Jiang Cheng was his usual welcoming self when Wei Wuxian arrived at Lotus Pier. Although they hadn’t seen each other in four or five years they’d kept in close contact via electronic means.

“Glad you could drop by” Jiang Cheng snarked, but his hug was genuine and warm and honestly everything Wei Wuxian had missed.

He snarked some more about Wei Wuxian not treating the house like a hotel, but when Wei Wuxian went up to his old room it had been aired, completely scrubbed clean with fresh bedding and there was even a vase of fresh flowers. The latter had probably been Yanli’s touch even if the former weren’t.

After dinner that evening Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian sat in the p in front of a roaring fire, something else he admitted he’d missed in the big city full of central heating and aircon.

The decorated tree glinted and sparkled in the dancing firelight and the flashing tree lights.

They’d drunk several bottles of beer with dinner and while catching up afterwards and both their tongues were loosened as a result.

Jiang Cheng admitted how close Lotus Pier was to financial collapse, something he’d never discussed with Wei Wuxian until now.

In his guilt over having left Jiang Cheng alone to deal with it all he admitted the reason he’d had to leave thirteen years ago, that Mayor Jin Guangshan had threatened him that something might happen to Jiang Yanli, his own daughter-in-law if Wei Wuxian didn’t get out of his sight, all because Wei Wuxian’s mother had refused his disgusting advances once.

Jiang Cheng was incensed, “You mean I lost my brother because that old bastard just couldn’t keep his dick in his pants?” but in the end Jin Guangshan was dead and there was nothing his anger could do.

“I’m here now” Wei Wuxian soothed, rubbing his shoulder and he ranted.

“But you won’t be staying” Jiang Cheng said morosely, staring at the dregs of the beer left in his bottle.

“No, I won’t be staying. But New York isn’t the end of the world Jiang Cheng, it’s only a flight away”

That knowledge didn’t seem to make either of them feel better that night.

***

Wei Wuxian classed himself as a city boy now, thirteen years had left their indelible print on him and he normally adhered to a routine of late mornings and later nights except when he was coming up to a deadline and his time was tight, or he was writing something that particularly consumed him.

His first day back in Cultivation he was up at the crack of dawn however, riding the ranch to take stock of what had changed in the intervening years.

His early morning was a direct consequence of a sleepless night were he’d tossed and turned at both the discomfort of being back in Cultivation and the worry over what Jiang Cheng had told him about the ranch.

Luckily he’d put those hours to good use and he had a pretty solid idea of how Jiang Cheng could diversify and keep everything afloat, with some initial capital investment which he could provide himself.

He called his agent and friend from High School Wen Ning first thing after his walk and had a quick discussion about the finances should he need them.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to be hot on the idea, but he only needed to agree, not like it.

Being a city boy himself Wei Wuxian knew that if Jiang Cheng could set up a leisure venture in conjunction with the ranch it could be the difference between stability, maybe even profitability, and bankruptcy.

They’d pulled back the acreage they used for pasture over the years as they’d reduce their cattle herds, and some of that land had been reclaimed by the woods. If they could turn that into camping grounds, along with renovating the old cabins down by the lake shore it would be a good start towards building Lotus Pier as a tourist destination. They could take advantage of local hiking and biking tracks, as well as provide access to water sports on the lake and even horse riding. It would take advantage of the huge market of people who liked or wanted to use their vacation time to get away from the stresses and strains of city life and just relax out in nature.

It would take time to embed, and Jiang Cheng would need a manager for that side of the business, he wasn’t a people person so the further he was away from the customers the better, but it would eventually provide capital to build more cabins and extend the facilities with careful management.

And possibly then provide enough profit that the ranch part running at a loss didn’t even matter.

Now he just needed to sell the idea to his grumpy brother.

Jiang Cheng would be out on the ranch completing chores at this time of the morning and he didn’t want to be dragged into them on his first day back, so he showered and drove back into town. Luckily the snow yesterday had only ended in a light covering which had melted overnight.

***

Failing a Starbucks he called into the local diner for a coffee to combat his lack of sleep, and ran into the town LEO.

“Wei Ying” there was a trace of something that sounded almost pleased in Lan Zhan’s modulated voice.

“Lan Zhan, thanks for your help yesterday, I managed to get to Lotus Pier with no problems”

“Good” Lan Zhan looked like he had something on his mind and Wei Wuxian hoped he wasn’t disturbing him. He almost backed off in guilt until the other one asked quietly, “Wei Ying, have dinner with me?”

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t pretend the idea didn’t throw him a little, he hadn’t really ever thought that he and Lan Zhan had been close enough to warrant grabbing dinner together to catch up now he was back.

But he was at a loose end at the moment, and moping in the house night after night would only lead to him being morose over his breakup with Mian Mian, even six months later as it was.

“Uh, alright? I’m free tomorrow or later this week?” habit of his city life had him pulling his phone out to check his calendar, “Send me an event?”

Lan Zhan looked at him blankly.

“Okayyy. Guess I’ll just put that in manually then. Tomorrow?”

“Mn, I can come and pick you up at Lotus Pier?”

“No need I can borrow Jiang Cheng’s truck if the snow gets bad, message me where to meet you”

“I don’t have your number”

“Oh, haha of course not” he pulled a business card out of wallet and handed it over to Lan Zhan, “Message me, I’m going to see Shijie now” and like a whirlwind he collected his coffee and disappeared.

***

Lan Wangji looked down at the card in his hand, not entirely sure what had just happened. Actually no, he was pretty sure he’d asked Wei Ying out on a date, and he was just as sure Wei Ying had accepted his invitation, but it wasn’t as a date.

“That boy’s as thick as a post” Song Lan said from a nearby booth where he sat eating breakfast and drinking coffee, the fact he had his paramedics uniform on suggested he was either just going on or coming off duty. “Twenty bucks says he doesn’t even realise you asked him out”

It wasn’t a bet Lan Wangji was willing to take.

***

Jiang Yanli was an utter mess the moment she opened the door to him. She didn’t let him go for what felt like hours as she hugged and cried over him, alternating between cooing at how grown up and handsome he looked now and telling him off for not visiting before now.

“I promise I’ll visit more often” he soothed as he hugged back and tried not to cry himself. There was at least no danger to him returning more often now. And he’d admit he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed his family, how much he hadn’t allowed himself to admit it in the past because he’d been helpless to do anything about the reasons why.

As it was Saturday Jin Ling was home, the seven year old obviously knew who his Uncle Wuxian was but had only ever seen him through pictures and over video calls. He was curious but quite nervous of Wei Wuxian at first. But for some reason children always warmed up to him quickly and they were soon drawing Christmas themed pictures together at the counter while Yanli performed the Spanish Inquisition on him about everything from his latest book release to how he was doing post-Mian Mian to who he’d seen since he’d been back in town.

“I’m having drinks with Nie Huaisang tonight” he told her and scratched his chin as he remembered the other plans he’d made, “Oh yeah, and I’m going to dinner with Lan Zhan tomorrow. Weird right? I didn’t even think we were that close back then”

Yanli looked at him carefully, “Lan Wangji asked you out?” as if the thought surprised her greatly.

“I know right, I felt the same” Wei Wuxian shook his head in confused amusement. “Tell me what’s being going on in the Jin house, Shijie”

***

He was so surprisingly busy the next few weeks flew by as it drew closer and closer to Christmas, he spent time on the ranch helping out Jiang Cheng. When Jin Ling wasn’t at school he followed Wei Wuxian everywhere; and as they enjoyed a surge of mild weather they went horse riding and hiking. He even took him fishing down to the pier next to the old, rundown boathouse, that had given Lotus Pier it’s name, Jin Ling seemed to enjoy it greatly. He even showed Wei Wuxian his den in the woods.

Wei Wuxian sold his diversification idea to Jiang Cheng, explaining in great detail what he could envision doing well, what they’d need to do legally, what he could do personally in terms of capital investment, and presented the forecasts he’d had his accountant look into producing. Jiang Cheng was a hard sell, which was why Wei Wuxian had put a lot of information and projections together to basically present him with an offer he literally couldn’t refuse.

Jiang Yanli took every opportunity to fuss and cluck over him, try to feed him up, listen to all his worries and concerns and give the best sisterly advice. She often asked him how things were progressing with Lan Zhan, but he didn’t really understand why she was so interested in his relationship with the Sheriff.

He spent time with Nie Huaisang, being heckled and sassed and told everyone else’s gossip, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

Everywhere he went he ran into Officer Lan, looking dashing in his uniform. They went out to dinner and for drinks quite often, building the friendship Wei Wuxian was sure they hadn’t had in the past despite Lan Zhan seeking him out all the time. Unfortunately there was also a rising attraction Wei Wuxian was trying desperately to squash; not only was Lan Zhan devastatingly handsome he was kind and attentive too. It was heady stuff and he struggled not to let it go to his head.

And he joined everyone else in town watching Lan Zhan’s brother Xichen be followed around by half the available population of Cultivation, like adoring puppies. Particularly strong suits came from Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao, and Jiang Cheng. Not that it did them any good because Xichen noticed nothing.

“I’m sorry Lan Zhan, but your brother is such a himbo” he commented one day as they left the diner with coffee cups, watching Lan Xichen walk down the street with Meng Yao, who looked at him like he hung the moon, “Who could be so clueless as to not notice when someone is making that kind of play?”

For a second some odd look crossed Lan Zhan’s face and Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure if was disbelief or if he was about laugh or cry, it settled into it’s usual expressionlessness though, and Lan Zhan just shook his head helplessly, “Yes, who” was his only comment. Wei Wuxian thought he must really despair of his brother’s obliviousness.

He did wonder sometimes though why Lan Wangji didn’t have similar amounts of fans, he was just as good looking, had a great job, and was a genuinely kind man. But no-one seemed to pant after him like after Xichen. It was very odd, almost as if he was off the market.

What was even odder to Wei Wuxian was the more involved he got the less he suddenly minded being stuck in Small Town USA.

***

Unfortunately his attraction to Lan Zhan did continue to grow and he found it harder and harder to keep his interactions that of a friend only. Especially one evening as they had drinks at the Lakeside. It was a party atmosphere inside as Christmas was approaching fast, and the bar was trimmed up to the nines with wreaths, trees, garlands, lights and holly and mistletoe everywhere. Everyone was having a great time dancing to the holiday music.

Everyone was having so much fun and for some reason urging them on, which was probably why they ended up swaying together on the dance-floor and necking under the mistletoe some mischievous employee had hung up all over the ceiling above the entire length of the bar-room.

When the music stopped they didn’t discuss it but they ended up in Lan Zhan’s bedroom and continued where they’d left off at the Lakeside. Lan Zhan pulled back to stroke each side of his face gently, like he was holding something precious and of great value.

“Wei Ying-”

“Lan Zhan, if the next words out of your mouth aren’t “I’m going to kiss you” then just shut up and kiss me” he ordered and the other snorted and rubbed along Wei Wuxian’s lower lip with his thumb.

“Then Wei Ying, I’m going to kiss you, if you’re sure you want it”

“Kiss me”

***

Wei Wuxian woke up the next morning to blinding clarity. He was in love with Lan Zhan. How had that even happened? How could he even consider it? Being in love with Lan Zhan meant tying himself to Cultivation and he’d rather die. He slid carefully out from underneath Lan Zhan’s arm which was thrown across his waist and hurried into his clothes.

He made the mistake of glancing back at the sleeping sheriff then, refined features relaxed in sleep, dark hair start against the white pillows, and he wavered. Would it really be so bad?

He left as quietly and quickly as possible.

He kept it together until he got back to the Ranch House.

What made the panic worse was that a snowstorm was obviously approaching, the mild weather of the last few weeks had vanished. He needed to pack and get out of there before they were snowed in and he had no way out. The thought almost tipped him into a panic attack.

Jiang Yanli was there just settling Jin Ling in on the sofa as he’d come over feverish.

Once sure Jin Ling was comfortable she came through to the kitchen where Jiang Cheng tried to get him to slow his breathing and ground himself.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when he was more controlled.

“I need to go back to New York. I have to get out of here. I have to go” Spurred on he dashed upstairs.

Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng followed him up to his room, it was clearly obvious he was greatly distressed and wasn’t thinking clearly.

“I just-I need to go” Wei Wuxian dragged his case out from under the bed and began haphazardly throwing clothes into it.

“You fucked him” Jiang Cheng said in disbelief, “Oh my god, he finally got you after all these years of pining. And now you’re just running. The dude is going to be inconsolable”

“A-Cheng” Yanli admonished him sharply but Jiang Cheng was in fine form.

“Was he that bad a lay you’re having to leave town now rather than face him again?”

“Jiang Wanyin” Yanli again, bringing out the “you’re in trouble” name.

“A. He fucked me, B. It was good, C.-” he paused briefly, he didn’t really know what C was.

“So what’s wrong?” Yanli asked.

“I-” what was wrong was he’d woken up, realised he was in love with Lan Zhan and panicked because of what that meant for him. Being with Lan Zhan meant being in Cultivation, and the thought terrified him. This town had treated him like trash and spat him out once before and he didn’t know if he was strong enough to go through that again. He hugged the pair of jeans in his hands against his chest and sat down on the bed. “I realised I love him” he admitted quietly, and Yanli sat next to him and began stroking his back calmingly.

“And that scares you?” she asked gently. Wei Wuxian nodded and she made a soothing sound.

“Because it means you’d have to come back here permanently” Jiang Cheng said from where he leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

Wei Wuxian flinched at the hurt he heard in his brother’s voice. He didn’t want to do that to him. But it was the truth and he nodded again.

Then, “Does Lan Zhan really like me?”

Jiang Yanli was the one to nod then, “He’s loved you for a very long time A-Xian”

Fuck. So he’d run out this morning without saying a word or leaving a message. After sleeping with the man who’d loved him forever. And just left him.

He knew perfectly well what kind of message that would send even if it was one he hadn’t intended to, so caught up in his own panic and feelings he hadn’t even spared a thought for Lan Zhan’s.

He really had messed up spectacularly. He got up then, throwing the jeans aside and making for the door. “I need to talk to Lan Zhan” he declared and the other two followed him again.

***

Downstairs the kitchen door was swinging open in the cold wind, blowing drifts of snow onto the tile floor.

The panic hit all three of them at the same time.

“A-Ling” Yanli cried out dashing into the parlour where he’d been curled up on the sofa asleep under a warm blanket.

Of course he wasn’t there.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian moved as one to grab coats and gloves which they bundled into on the way to the door.

“Call Zixuan, and stay here in case A-Ling comes back” Jiang Cheng told Yanli who was crying and moving to collect her own coat.

“That’s my son, I’m going with you”

“Yanli, we really need you to stay here and call us if he does come back, it’s snowing out there and he’ll get cold and might head back on his own. We need you here, we’ll find him” Jiang Cheng promised rubbing her shaking shoulders.

***

“You check the barn and milking sheds” he told Jiang Cheng as they leapt off the porch and into the snow, “I’ll go to the woods and check the den”

They split off and headed in their assigned directions.

He wondered why Jin Ling had felt the need to leave the house, especially when he was sick.

He threw up a quick prayer for Jin Ling’s safety to any god listening in and doubled his pace.

Wei Wuxian felt his heart sink when he got there to no sign of his nephew, he’d almost been sure he’d be here. Where else could he have headed for?

Wait, hadn’t Jin Ling really enjoyed their fishing trip? What if he’d headed down to the lake?

Wei Wuxian began running, too aware of how dangerous it could be and what would be the consequence in the freezing cold if Jin Ling did slip into the water.

He couldn’t see anything when he got to the pier, please god let Jin Ling have gone for shelter in the ramshackle old boathouse.

His prayers were answered, and he found Jin Ling huddled in the corner inside, half asleep and rambling with fever.

“Uncle Wuxian” he managed though as Wei Wuxian took his coat off and wrapped it around Jin Ling. He checked his phone but this far out he had no signal and he’d have to get a bit closer to the house before his phone started connecting with nearby towers.

Wei Wuxian picked him up and settled him against his chest comfortably.

“Come on A-Ling, lets get you back to your Mom, she’s worried sick about you. What were you thinking?” he asked but the boy didn’t seem to hear him.

He walked out of the boathouse and into the driving snow, trying not to think about the journey back. He didn’t have any choice, he could afford to wait the snowstorm out in the boathouse but Jin Ling couldn’t; he was quite poorly.

So he set his shoulders and walked. It was so cold. But he struggled on. What would he have done if something had happened to Jin Ling? He couldn’t bear to think about it. Couldn’t bear to think about not being able to see his curious, energetic little nephew every day.

Wait.

But he was going back to New York, he wouldn’t be able to spend all that time with Jin Ling anymore, wouldn't get to see him every day, that was how it was going to have to be.

But the more he thought about it the more he knew he wouldn’t survive. Not seeing Jiang Cheng’s grumpy face hiding his careful concern? Not receiving the unconditional love and support of Jiang Yanli? Not being the person who hung the moon to Jin Ling? Even not being the stupid fool who’d had Lan Zhan’s love forever without even realising, trying to bro-zone him while Lan Zhan tried his damnedest to pursue him?

The more he considered it the more the thought of leaving all of them behind became intolerable to him.

Not that Lan Zhan would want anything to do with him after his disappearing act this morning he realised and the thought actually made him hurt.

As if summoned by Wei Wuxian’s reflections the man himself appeared out of the snowstorm.

“Wei Ying” he said and held the other upright as he stumbled, his limbs starting to go numb.

Lan Zhan had emergency blankets, one of which he wrapped around Wei Wuxian, before wrapping the other around Jin Ling as extra protection from the cold. He took him from Wei Wuxian’s arms to carry him instead. Then he wrapped an arm around Wei Wuxian  and began guiding them back in the direction he’d come,  reporting in on his police radio that Jin Ling was safe and he was bringing them back now.

“I didn’t want Uncle Wuxian to leave” Jin Ling exclaimed suddenly.

“I’m not Jin Ling, I’m not” but no-one seemed to pay him any attention. “Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian wanted to tell him he was sorry. That he hadn’t known what he’d done that morning would hurt him. That he really wanted to stay. That he loved him. But Lan Zhan didn’t let him speak.

“Save your energy Wei Ying, you did well” was all he said.

***

Once back at the ranch house he and Jin Ling were stripped, wrapped in dryer-warmed terry cloth robes, and piled under hundreds of blankets. A cup of hot chocolate was pressed into his hands and he was told to sip it as soon as he could stand the temperature while Wen Qing checked over Jin Ling who Yanli hadn’t let go yet.

Lan Zhan waited for the health verdict on both of them, but as soon as he was assured Jin Ling would be fine once his fever lowered and Wei Wuxian was none the worse for wear he moved towards the door to leave.

“Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian called urgently; he didn’t want Lan Zhan to think whatever he thought for a minute longer.

When he realised everyone was looking at him he jumped up and stumbled across the room like some crazy blanket monster from a child’s book. He tried to ignore the more icier than usual look on Lan Zhan’s face as he pulled him out of the kitchen and up to his room with a “Please just give me a little more of your time”

He realised what a miscalculation it had been to fetch Lan Zhan here when he saw his case still open on the bed.

“Its not what it looks like Lan Zhan. Actually no it is what it looks like. It was, anyway. Please let me explain” he closed the case and pushed it back under the bed so he could sit down.

“I am so sorry I ran this morning. I realise with hindsight what that might have looked like to you”

“Like your night of experimentation was done with and you didn’t want to deal with the morning after?” Lan Zhan suggested coldly.

“Experimentation? That's not it. Lan Zhan, I’ve always identified as bisexual. I’ve just never been with a guy before because I was in a long term relationship. I’d only ever been with Mian Mian before we-before last night” it was even worse than he’d suspected. “Will you please at least listen to me explain?”

Lan Zhan didn’t say no, so he took that as permission.

“I need you to know I didn’t know how you felt about me before Yanli told me this morning. And I didn’t know how I felt about you until I woke up and realised I was in love with you. And I panicked and ran away because I couldn’t process it and I was scared. I know Meng Yao told you what his father did to get rid of me, and why, and even though he’s dead now it’s hard to think of Cultivation as anything but a hell pit. Loving you would mean staying here and I was terrified at the thought”

“Wei Ying, you love me?” there was a crack in that icy facade as Lan Zhan asked him to confirm his feelings again, trembling emotion in his voice.

Wei Wuxian pressed his lips together but nodded in certainty, “Mn” he stole Lan Zhan’s sound of agreement

“Then I wouldn't care where we lived if it was with you, we could move to New York, Shanghai, anywhere in the world you wanted” Lan Zhan sat on the bed next to him and folded Wei Wuxian’s unwieldy, blanket-monster form into his arms.

“I want to stay here” he said firmly. “I thought about it a lot while I was out in the snowstorm, and I need to be near my family, including you if you’ll forgive me Lan Zhan”

“Always” he agreed, then pressed a kiss against Wei Wuxian’s lips. A drop of cold water from Wei Wuxian’s hair dripped onto his nose then, and he rose to find a towel so he could rub it dry gently. The action was soporific and Wei Wuxian struggled to stay awake.

Lan Zhan asked him softly, “How do you feel?”

He roused himself enough to answer, “If you mean about last night, then my ass hurts. If you mean about this morning, my heart hurts, I made Jin Ling run away like that with my stupid panic”

“Its not your fault Wei Ying”

Wei Wuxian didn’t agree but he didn’t really feel like arguing the point right now.

“Keep doing that Lan Zhan” he murmured instead, urging the other to run the towel over his hair again.

***

Luckily Jin Ling made a full recovery in a few days, and Yanli didn’t blame We Wuxian for making him run away.

It was the night before Christmas Eve and a town tradition to hold a night market filled with crafts and food and mulled everything.

Wei Wuxian made his way over to Lan Zhan and curled into his side, passing him one of the hot chocolates he’d bought while the other man pulled him in tighter with an arm over his shoulder.

They watched the elementary school’s choir sing for a while in the glittering lights from the giant Christmas tree in the middle of the square.

“Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian said eventually, and the other looked at him.

“Mn?”

“Don’t you think this is all a bit cliché? Like a cheesy Christmas movie? You know, where the sassy city-slicker hero goes back to Podunk USA for Christmas and falls in love with the quiet pretty girl from High School who always secretly had a crush on him but was too shy to ever say anything?” he rubbed his chin trying to smother his laughter. He yelped and tried to get away when Lan Zhan nipped at his side in retribution.

“OK, OK. I’m sorry I’m sorry” he surrendered, but he still couldn’t stop the giggles.

Eventually Lan Zhan just turned to him and pulled him close.

“Wei Ying” he said, “shut up” and closed his lips over Wei Wuxian’s in a slow, lingering kiss that left him with no breath to laugh any more.

[omyeol]

defining colors - i | bbh

word counts: 4,100++ 

genre: angst, fluff

<< story masterlist >>

Red.

Red was a fascinating color. Usually, it was used to describe boldness or passion. Red never failed to stand out brightly among the other colors. Wear something red, and you would be noticed. A red dress was mostly seen as something alluring and passionate and red lips was the scene-stealer. Red on the lips was never failed to make someone lose their focus temporarily. Wear red lipstick and someone’s eyes would trail down from your eyes to your lips as you talked, watching the way your lips fascinatingly.

Red was something you liked to associate with passion. Red was that one color that you always used very carefully, not wanting to lose its meaning to you by using it often.

But for once, red didn’t ooze off its correct meaning to you. The red that stained your fingers and on your hand towel caused shivers to run down your spine. It was the blood red, meaning weakness. A lump formed in your throat at the realization, your shaky hands punctuating your own weakness. Your gaze couldn’t be torn away from the blood red on your hand towel, a small part inside of you already trying to point a finger to find whose fault it was this time.

It’s you. It’s your own fault this time, that small part inside of you told yourself.

“My God.” Someone sounded exasperated enough it caught your attention. Blinking your eyes to pull yourself out from your overworked brain, you looked up and realized that it was your own friend who sounded exasperated. The frown and the turned-down lips were signs that she was irritated by the sight of blood on your hands.

You watched with curiosity brewing inside as she moved towards you, grabbing a hold of your hand—the one with a hand towel on it—and pressing the towel onto your nose. That was when you fully realized that you were having a nosebleed. Relief rushed through you at the late realization.

“Stay there.”

You stayed where you sat, leaning on the back of the chair leisurely and waited until your friend came back from the kitchen with an ice pack for you. You had a perfect view of the Han river, you realized. The couch was facing the floor-to-ceiling window and it was the exact time for the sunset. Enjoying this perfect view with a can of cold beer would be perfect.

A hand was tugging at your wrist and an ice pack was put on your nose pulled you from the trance. Gazing up, it was Sooyoung who pulled your hand back and put the ice pack on your nose. Flashing her a small, grateful smile, she sighed and sat on the far end of the couch.

“Thank you, Sooyoung,” you spoke as you kept the ice pack on your nose and examined the hand towel on your other hand. “I actually thought I messed up my hand, you know? Thank God it’s just a nosebleed.” Realizing the mood in the room had slightly gone down a little bit, you tried to let out a short laugh—even though it ended up sounding like you were strangled.

“Yeah, it’s just a nosebleed, you know? It’s only your nose, right? It’s not like you need to breathe or something.” Turning your gaze away from the scenic view to your friend, you realized that Sooyoung looked like she had a lot to say. “You do realize you’re driving yourself to an early death, don’t you?”

You sighed. You should have seen this coming, honestly. Every time you met up with Sooyoung these days, she would mention how you’re driving yourself to an early death. You knew. Gosh, you knew it yourself.

“That’s the second time this month,” you mentioned with a sigh, annoyed because it felt like your nose was clogged or something. The cold, numbing feeling on your nose also made you feel weird.

“I’m just saying, you know.” You leaned your head back at the back of the couch. “I’m the one going to the nerd school but you’re the one driving to an early death. It’s supposed to be the other way.” Grimacing at the words she said, you tried to control the bubbling annoyance within you. The nerd school. Right.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” The words came out weak as if you had lost any battle within yourself that kept going on for so long. You knew it was not finished, though, but sometimes you felt like it was and you ended up questioning the things you did all this time.

Sooyoung didn’t say anything else, but you still could feel her eyes on you, watching your face and trying to figure out what you’re thinking. It should’ve made you squirm. It would make someone else squirm, you knew that but it was Sooyoung and you had known her for so long that her antics didn’t even surprise you anymore.

The same couldn’t be said for her, though. The memory of you and Sooyoung sitting in one of the private rooms in a high-end restaurant last year flashed in your mind. Sooyoung was already quite tipsy when she told you how even after all this time, she could never really figure you out. Your stomach twisted painfully at the memory.

“Are you meeting anyone after this or going straight home?” She asked, finally tearing her gaze away from you. At her question, you became conscious over the unread text that you got from your mother just earlier this morning.

“I’m going straight home.” For a day, you just wanted to enjoy being off the grid. Well, not completely, but it was always nice to be alone in your apartment and just not touch your phone. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone besides your mother would try to keep up with you. Both of your brothers were busy with their own things and they could just drop by your place if they needed something from you.

“Good, good. You better get some proper rest, okay? We all know you won’t be getting any of that once the new semester starts next month.” You just smiled at her words. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m just a call away.” She might be a call away, but she had her schedule full with so many things. Her class schedule, her job, and her boyfriend that you had never met before.

But for her peace of mind, you nodded anyway and told her not to worry.

On your way back to the apartment, you made a stop by the supermarket. It was easier to do grocery shopping now while you were still outside and before your mood was gone. Besides, the sight of all the food in the snack aisle managed to lift up your mood, too. While it was hard to decide which snack you should buy, you welcomed the process of decision making in your head that was for once not school related. After all the whirlwind that was your summer break, this was relaxing, somehow.

You were just driving out of the parking lot when the first call came in. Kim Junmyeon. Answering the call, your older brother’s voice filled in the quietness in your car.

“You arrived home yet?” It was a regular check-up thing that he did whenever you arrived from New York. It was nice that he gave you a little bit of room and time to breathe before he called. Although you both didn’t even live in the same country anymore, you’d think he was still the only one in the family who understood you the most.

“I landed about three hours ago, and I just got back from Sooyoung’s and did some grocery shopping too,” you answered as you made a right turn. Junmyeon let out a hum at your answer. “Where are you now? The office?” You earned a laugh this time, causing you to jut lower lip out into a pout.

“Yah, it’s Saturday. Why would I be at the office?” The clogs in your brain worked, trying to make you remember what day it was. Right, so it was still Saturday at where he was.

“Oh, right…” you mumbled and let out a chuckle out of sheer embarrassment. “Uh, can you call again later?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll let you go now.” After exchanging goodbyes with him, you hung up the call, feeling perfectly content with only hearing the faint sounds of the radio in your car. The volume had turned to low because you only needed it as the background noise. As something to keep your mind stayed within the line you had previously drawn yourself. It was proven hard, though, because the scenery out there was pretty much the same to what you had been seeing in the past month. Only this was less crowded, but pretty much the same.

You’d think of how it was if you lived in the countryside. Somewhere so far from the hustle bustle of the big city. Somewhere your family wouldn’t expect you to live. It might be nice, and the thought was refreshing enough that it brought a little smile on your face. You imagined how your brothers would respond to that—how Junmyeon would whine and insult (in a brotherly way) your choice of living meanwhile Minseok would praise you and probably visit every now and then because the simple living suited him too.

It would be hilarious, living somewhere out of reach from everyone. It would be a move that no one would ever expect from you—from Minseok, probably—and it would just be funny seeing other people’s reaction to it. It would be nice, though, if you really had the guts to do it.

The guts you had only took you so far to live in the old, hand-me-down apartment from your late father—although the apartment wasn’t actually old, after some renovations here and there, of course. While you were hoping that you could take a bigger step than this, it was still enough for you (for the moment, at least). You were grateful for the impulsive decision that you made back then, even though living alone could be quite lonely to you.

The only things (and people) that could keep you company were mostly your Netflix and the two guys who were only a phone call away and liked to act as your bodyguard—they clearly weren’t, though. A ‘phone call away’ was literally meant just that because they could just come over bearing snacks (and alcohol, too, sometimes if there was a request) whenever you called them to.

“You just want us to help you clean up your place, right?” The first guy, Chanyeol, spoke up as soon as you opened up your front door and let him in your apartment. There wasn’t a spike in his words, though. It was laced with amusement as if he had expected this to happen.

“As long as you buy us food, it’s fine, though.” Sehun, who stood behind Chanyeol, popped in. You just chuckled at their words and stepped aside to let them in. The two guys were frequent guests in your apartment, so you didn’t need to wait around for them because you knew they’d follow you to the living room.

With the two of them occupied the couch in the living room, the apartment didn’t feel quite as lonely as it was before. Chanyeol and Sehun talked enough for the three of you and the music (that Chanyeol played from his playlist) that blasted softly through the Bluetooth speaker was also enough to drown your thoughts away as you cleaned.

“I’ll clean my bedroom, okay?” The guys only responded with hums and with that, you left them to their devices in the living room. You trusted them enough to help you clean and you knew they wouldn’t let you down, especially with the promise of food. Besides, it wasn’t the first time this happened too.

There was a system when it came to cleaning your room. The system consisted of you tying your hair up and wearing the loosest shirt you could ever find in your closet and playing a podcast from Spotify on speakerphone. It was a system that had worked for quite a long time.

The system, this time, was interrupted by a string of email notifications from your mother. A string of e-mail that you hadn’t even bothered to read since you left New York City two weeks ago. The amount of unread email wasn’t that many back then, and you were quite busy with the excitement of meeting up with Junmyeon and spending the last weeks of your summer break with him.

But this time as you sat on the edge of your bed with nothing to look forward too, you realized you couldn’t brush them off any longer. With a sigh, you opened up your email app and gulped at the seven unread emails from your mother.

(You also cursed to yourself at your mother’s inability to act like the usual mother who texted their kids rather than sent them freaking e-mail).

The first few emails were her usual nagging. Telling you to send her pictures from your break in LA with Junmyeon and to let her know when you landed in South Korea. You did neither of them because you knew she might have found out what you were doing in LA from Junmyeon’s posts on Instagram, so you quickly scrolled down to the others.

The recent ones, though, were the ones that you regretted opening it in the first place.

My lovely daughter,

I hope you find this email just fine.

I just want to let you know that I have found a man suited to you. He is the son of your father’s colleague and studying at Korea Univ too. Here is attached his full profile so you can get to know him. Expect a text or call from him within the week and date within this month.

Have fun on your date and good luck with your studies.

It seemed like your mother had the template ready for this kind of emails. It was because this was definitely not the first time you received similar emails from your mother. It felt like she got the template ready and only had to input different info and profile when the time came. It made you feel sick.

Annoyance and anger were the two emotions that you could feel so strongly once you read the email once more. It felt like a lump grew in your throat and you had trouble swallowing it (along with your bubbling anger) down. The feeling was familiar, for it wasn’t the first time, but it still irked you to the bone. She had pushed you too far this time and maybe it was time for you to do something—that you weren’t sure of doing back then, but this time it seemed like you had no choice.

Maybe… Maybe it was the right time to actually fight back.

+++++

The quaint cafe was quite empty as you pushed the door open, the little bell above the door ringing through the room. The young girl behind the counter looked up and smiled at you as you stepped in, her gesture telling you that she was ready to move behind the cashier machine and take your order. You just flashed her a small smile and a faint shake of the head though, and then shifted your gaze away to the man sitting by himself on the table in the corner of the room.

Your eldest brother, Minseok, stared at you as if you had grown double heads as you walked towards where he was sitting. Just like every time you met up with him, he chose the table in the corner of the room. The two paper cups and the strawberry cake in the middle of the table and the gummy smile he’s sporting made you pick up your pace.

“You’re dressed up,” he stated as he hugged you in greeting. “You’re not usually this dressed up to see me.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words and the teasing smile across his face. It was true, though. The both of you were never dressed up when meeting each other. So, yeah, you kind of figured he would be questioning you when you dressed up to the nines like this.

“I’m meeting someone later.” A playful smile bloomed across your face as you sat across the table from Minseok. Those words were not unfamiliar to his ears, you knew. In the previous dates, he was your rescuer when things got a bit too overwhelming and bad for you.

“Should I have my phone on standby tonight, then?” You chuckled and shook your head, taking a sip from the paper cup in front of you that you predicted to be hot cappuccino—you were right.

“I’m gonna be fine,” you tried to reassure him—and yourself too. “I’m meeting with Sooyoung and her boyfriend and their friend. So, it should be fine.” Minseok looked like he still wasn’t convinced, so you had to do more. “I’ll text you once I meet the guy and arrive home, okay? I’ll even call you when I’m on my way back. Is that enough?” Then he finally nodded.

You spent quite a bit of time with Minseok, the two of you catching up with what each other had done during the summer break. As usual and as expected of Minseok, he spent his summer break working and searching for a school to pursue his doctoral degree. He dated, on the side too. You didn’t where he had all that time and how he managed it, but you had always been so amazed by (and proud of) your eldest sibling.

Although the two of you weren’t as close in the past as you were now, you were glad that you managed to be closer with him now that you lived in Seoul. After all, it was always nice to have a familiar face around you.

“I think I’ll leave now,” you informed your brother once you glanced at the digital clock on your phone, signaling you that you only had thirty minutes before your meeting with Sooyoung and the others. Taking one last sip of your coffee, both of you stood up from your seats.

“Don’t forget to let me know about the date, okay?” Both of you shared a brief hug before he finally let you go to do your last plan for the day.

Throughout the drive to the restaurant where you’re meeting Sooyoung and the others, you couldn’t help but notice how hard your heart was beating against your chest. It beat hard and fast as if it was following a beat of a drum somewhere. It also felt like there was a loud ringing in your ears that it almost distracted you from your own plan. You couldn’t be distracted, though. In order for tonight to go smoothly, your head had to be clear and to reach that, you spent about five minutes in your parked car to take deep breaths and calm yourself. A little bit of pep talk could work like a charm, too.

Once you took one last deep breath, you made up your mind to finally get out of your car and walk into the restaurant. The sound of the heels of your shoes against the wooden floor was what you focused as you kept your head held high, a subtle hint of a smile playing loosely on your face. The restaurant was pretty crowded—it’s dinner time, anyway—but you could still spot your friend easily.

Too easily, in fact. The dark red dress Sooyoung was wearing and the red coating her lips were the ones you spotted first. The man with a white button-up shirt sitting next to her was the one you noticed next. How they acted around each other—the way Sooyoung holding the hand tightly in her hands—felt like they were wrapped in a bubble. They were so wrapped around each other and you were sure Sooyoung wouldn’t notice you at all if you didn’t clear your throat once you approached their table.

As if pulled back from a trance, Sooyoung broke her gaze from the man next to her and shifted her body and her gaze to face you. A wide smile bloomed on her face when she recognized you.

“You’re finally here!” She exclaimed in greeting, catching the attention both of the men sitting in our table. You just nodded and widened your smile, hoping that it could show her the same enthusiasm that she felt. She stood up and hugged you briefly before ushering you to sit across her.

It was a round of introduction that happened next. You were finally introduced to Kim Jongdae, the man that you knew to be dating your friend but never saw him before, despite your numerous visit to his apartment—that Sooyoung liked to stay in. From the way he dressed, you knew he was rich and you had a slight inkling that maybe, just maybe Sooyoung didn’t only date him. Some perks might or might not come with it, too.

Finally, finally, Sooyoung introduced you to the man sitting next to you. You were sure that he had his attention on his phone before, but now that Sooyoung finally introduced the both of you, he had his attention on you. Turning your head to face him, you opted to keep your smile small and polite. It was important not to show him that you were too eager to meet him. To hold the attention you had already gotten from him, you had to show him that you were delighted to be there, but not that much interested.

Although, you had to admit that it was pretty hard to do so.

Byun Baekhyun looked so much better in the flesh than it was in the picture before. If you saw him in the picture, the first thing that could possibly cross your mind would be how young and inexperienced he looked ruling his own family business. In the picture, he looked relatively small compared to the business he’s running. People would think that he was nothing but a chaebol trying to run his own family business but failing to do so.

But in real life, it seemed like he had the purpose to prove everyone wrong. His faded blond hair might prove you different, creating him a look like he was some college student, not twenty-eight years old with dozens of achievements and a sharp brain and charming smile that made him look like he was meant to be in his position, like he was meant to sit next to you and charm the hell out of you tonight.

The way Baekhyun engaged in the conversation between the four of you was nice. He even managed to crack a few jokes here and there to keep the atmosphere light around you. It was nice enough that it made you sneak a few glances in his direction when he managed to make you chuckle with his words. It was nice enough that you couldn’t wait until it was time for all of you to move to the bar. You knew you couldn’t say what you had planned to with Sooyoung and his boyfriend still here.

“So, should we move to the bar now?” You held the urge to let out a sigh in relief when Baekhyun said that. A chorus of agreement later, Baekhyun paid for the dinner bill and the four of you got up from your seats.

Letting Sooyoung and his brother walk first, you smoothed down your dress and fished out your phone from your clutch to send Minseok a message.

It’s all fine. I’m going home now.

Once the message was sent, you locked your phone and placed it back in your clutch.

“I don’t peg you to be the kind of person who lies.” You shouldn’t be surprised that he managed to see the text you just sent, but you still did. Turning your face a bit to see him, you just smiled.

“It’s my brother. He worries way too much sometimes.” Both of you walked side by side until you were all outside the restaurant. Sooyoung and Jongdae were waiting for you outside. Once they both saw you and Baekhyun, they didn’t say another word and led the way to the bar.

“I understand why he worries, though.” You raised your eyebrows at his words. “How can he not? When you’re out and about in the city, looking so beautiful like this.” A chuckle slipped out of your mouth at his words. Flattery seemed to be his way of keeping your attention on him, and you realized that this was going to be fun. There was no doubt that you could have a lot of fun with this, especially with the plans you had already made for him.

[artificialqueens]

Soft like Lavender, Warm like Honey (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: Thank you 3000 to Holtzmanns for beta-ing me and pushing me to make this fic into what it is. I love you so much. Also, I’m not a farm person by any means, so rural & farming readers, if I fucked something up, please lmk!

It was no sooner that Brooke sat down on the steps of their porch, Riley’s collar jingling as he dutifully padded after her, that Vanessa became visible at the end of the road, her small frame reduced down a hundred times from the distance. Brooke waved, unable to stop herself from smiling widely as Vanessa trudged closer, her skin glistening with sweat and sun even through the veneer of dust kicking up under her feet.

“Ariel and Yvie already head home?” Brooke asked as Vanessa flopped down hard next to her, laying back on the sun-warmed wooden slats beneath her and letting Riley lick the sweat from her face.

“Fuckers left as soon as the lavender was all pruned.” Vanessa growled. “Ain’t even say goodbye.”

“It’s the end of the month, I guess.” Brooke laughed. Summer always came with a parade of university students from the neighbouring towns looking to tend crops and keep bees for a summer job, and without fail, by late August, all of them were fed up enough with wasting their precious social time that they did everything they could to wriggle out of any extra work. Brooke couldn’t blame them, and deep down, she knew neither could Vanessa, but she understood why it smarted. Of all the kids that blew through Hytes-Mateo Horticultural and Honey Farms, Ariel and Yvie were by far the two smartest and funniest they’d had. Yvie especially took a liking to verbal sparring matches with Vanessa over open bags of mulch, and Ariel and Vanessa’s mannerisms and senses of style were so similar that people who only saw them from behind as Vanessa walked Ariel through the basics of beekeeping would swear that they couldn’t tell who was who.

Vanessa would miss them, and in a certain selfish way, it hurt Brooke to know that as much as Vanessa loved her, when it was just the two of them for the other nine months, the fire in her eyes died a little, and her brisk, loud laugh became just a little duller.

It wasn’t personal, not even a question of who she was keeping company with–it was just that Vanessa was a social butterfly, an extrovert if ever there was one, someone who loved being the centre of attention. And as much as Brooke knew Vanessa craved and loved her attention, the attention of many was always better than the attention of just one, the same one as every day and night.

Brooke was different; she didn’t need very many people around her, and breaking routine made her sick to her stomach. Sometimes, all she craved was being in a cool room alone with Riley, the cats, and her thoughts, turning over conversations with herself in her head.

Brooke liked her space, and so she took it as much as possible, Vanessa the only one allowed to cross over the threshold. A little sad, maybe, to someone else, someone looking from the outside in, but to Brooke, it was more than enough.

They were silent for a moment, until Brooke reached beside herself and grabbed two mugs, one of which she handed over to Vanessa, who was struggling to heave herself upright.

“Thanks, ba– Again? ” Vanessa glared at Brooke pointedly, her eyes narrowing when Brooke only shrugged and took a cool sip from her mug.

“What?” Brooke tried and failed to hide a sheepish grin behind the mug’s thick ceramic edge. “Water just tastes better in a mug. You know it.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, but took a sip of her water nonetheless, closing her eyes against the cool sensation of ice hitting her lips.

Just beyond them, the sky had begun to cast an orange glow over the neat, seemingly endless rows of purple that stretched out before them.

—

If there was one thing Vanessa loved about her farm, it was the blueberries. Early every morning, she would walk through rows and rows of containers, shooing away birds trying to break through the tents’ protective shields and scouting for plants that needed harvesting, ones that had begun to die and needed to be uprooted and the plot saved for re-planting later. It was almost meditative, in a way; walk, shoo, check, think. Walk, shoo, check, think. Walk, shoo, check, and think, and think, and think. About politics, about The Bachelorette, about what she would have for dinner that night–it didn’t matter.

Lately, her thoughts were about her life, and about Brooke, about how they started the farm together, how they got to where they were now. How she had met Brooke on her own family’s farm, when Brooke walked the three miles between her own family’s land to deliver the seeds her mother had promised Vanessa’s, shyly explaining that her truck had broken down halfway down the road. How Vanessa’s mother spent half the day fixing the engine, knowing full well Vanessa could have done it herself, winking at her as she suggested Brooke come in for a snack and some lemonade.

How they had gone to agricultural university together, spending late nights in their dorm room (bunking together being specifically Brooke’s suggestion to the university, thank you very much ) poring over textbooks about industrial harvesting and anatomical diagrams of pea plants, biting their lips and wondering if the girl opposite from them wanted to kiss them as much as they did.

How they had actually shared their first kiss during a continuing education beekeeping certification course, Brooke’s lips sticky with hard work and honey, her breath hot and hitched through excited giggles about how she’d wanted to do that for a long time.

Vanessa smiled to herself, a rush of affection blooming in her chest.

She had already known by then that she had loved Brooke, and though it took a while for Brooke to actually say the words, Vanessa knew how the other woman felt based on how she talked to her, how she listened to her go on about her interests like they were her own, how she lavished Vanessa in compliments and always knew the right things to say when she was down. Vanessa could tell in how Brooke looked at her, eyes brimming with not just happiness but utter satisfaction, like Vanessa was all she needed to be content for the rest of her life.

And then there was how Brooke touched her, soft and delicate and almost reverent, fingers tracing the smooth skin of Vanessa’s arms as if it were the finest fabric she’d ever laid hands on, beaming when Vanessa practically purred in content at the sensation.

Nothing had changed between them since then, not much. They’d gotten comfortable with each other, had their fights and rough patches, but always came through, always came back to each other, always stronger than they had been before. And Brooke still talked to, looked at, and touched Vanessa in the same way.

So Vanessa walked up and down the blueberry fields, shooing, checking, and thinking, remembering and formulating a plan.

–

They had finally gotten their farmland three years and eleven months ago, a month before they’d gotten married right on the land they’d built together. Or, more accurately, that their community had built for them–months before the deal was sealed on their land, they had friends and neighbours and old acquaintances banding together to help them renovate the farm’s barn, which they had inherited from the previous owners, an older couple who moved back to the city to live with their children. They had spent days out together getting ready for the handover, planting and buying and setting up connections, getting the word out that in less than a year, they’d have enough produce and flowers and honey to start building themselves a future.

A future that had started in that very barn, Brooke in her white pantsuit and Vanessa in her flowing princess dress, exchanging vows that they intended to keep even after death did them part.

I promise to always support you through thick and thin.

Brooke got sick and Vanessa threw her in the backseat of their pickup wrapped up in a blanket, siren-sounds blaring from their AUX cord through open windows as Vanessa tore down the highway to get to the nearest hospital. She made the same trip hours later when Brooke was getting her appendix out, towing back boxes of Brooke’s favourite flowers for when she woke up.

I promise to always listen, to always see your point of view.

Vanessa had a temper, and while Brooke often flared it, she always took Vanessa’s words to heart, cooling it with a compromise when she was ready and always knowing exactly how to soothe over and forgive the words both of them wish they hadn’t said.

I promise to share my equal portion of the work, and never leave you carrying any burden without help.

The big tasks were done together, the small tasks separately. Only sometimes, Vanessa finished her small tasks early, Brooke being just a little too meticulous when tending to their bees or checking the pH of their hydrangeas’ soil. And at those times, Brooke would find Vanessa by her side, both their hearts beating loud enough to fill the air without the need for conversation as they let their fingers brush together and shoulders bump, four hands getting the jobs done in no time at all.

I promise to love you always and forever, with the same passion as the first day we met.

In two months, it would be their fourth anniversary. And Brooke was making plans, big plans.

Vanessa was usually the romantic one, the one who always had some grand gesture or scheme cooking in her head. She loved surprising Brooke, and Brooke loved being surprised by her.

This time, though, Vanessa wouldn’t know what hit her.

–

They made dinner together in excited silence, completely in sync as they chop carrots and stir simmering pots, both of them in their own worlds as they think of the two months ahead.

–

“Happy anniversary, baby.” Vanessa woke Brooke up with a hand between her legs and two soft lips on the skin behind her ear. Brooke squirmed, keening into Vanessa’s hand as she yawned and mumbled something sleepily, the word anniversary barely intelligible somewhere in the middle of what barely qualified as a sentence.

Vanessa chuckled, working Brooke over with her hand for a few more moments before leaving another kiss on her temple, whispering out permission for Brooke to keep sleeping as she slipped out of bed.

Even as she walked out of their room, pulling on a sweater over her pajamas, she knew that Brooke would follow close behind.

Morning chores on the farm were simple, monotonous even, but for Vanessa, there was something beautiful in them, a charm that no other chores held for her. Not that they were any different from midday, or afternoon, or evening–rather, it was the time. You couldn’t go out and watch the sun rise at midday, the sky painting itself orange and pink as darkness faded behind the distantly-neighbouring hills. Nor could you feel the early-morning dew under your feet during the afternoon, the cold wetness somehow sharp as it marked itself across your ankles. And by evening, you’d have already heard the daily forecast, meaning you couldn’t be surprised by rain the report hadn’t warned you about, or by your wife coming out close behind you to bring you the jacket you bought precisely because it matched hers. Which meant you couldn’t lean up and thank her with a kiss on her lips, fat and heavy droplets rolling down your back and her hands warm and rough around your waist.

Vanessa was the luckiest woman in the world, and by the time they retreated in for breakfast, muddy boots and soaked jackets laid out to dry in the foyer, she was buzzing with excitement at the thought that tonight, she just might get even luckier.

–

The mixed-berry pancakes sizzled on the crisco-greased grill, the tangy smell of cooking strawberries smothered with thick layers of batter seeming to waft out of the kitchen and fill the whole house in a matter of minutes. Brooke smiled over at Vanessa, who was practically bouncing with excitement on her chair at the kitchen table as she watched Brooke work. Brooke couldn’t help but smile a little herself at the reaction; after all, the church didn’t beg for her to run the kitchen on Shrove Tuesday for nothing. Not that Vanessa couldn’t cook–it was just that when it came to pancakes, Brooke couldn’t be beat. A niche talent, for sure, but hey. Once or twice a year, on special days like today, it made Vanessa incredibly happy, and as far as Brooke was concerned, that made it her most important skill.

Brooke smiled widely as she slid the pancakes onto a large plate, gingerly switching off the grill before rushing to the table to put the pancakes down while they were still hot.

“Oh my God , babe, they smell so fucking good!” Vanessa licked her lips and rubbed her hands together, her feet lifting up on the floor and swinging in happiness.

“You say that every time I make them.” Brooke laughed, though the compliment still made her heart swell with pride.

“That’s ‘cause it’s true every time.” Vanessa retorted sheepishly, darting a fork out to stab at and drag a pancake onto her plate. “Pass the syrup?”

“You’re sweet.” Brooke grinned as she passed over the jug, her fingers sticking a little to its plasticky surface. Vanessa didn’t respond; she was completely focused on pouring just the perfect amount of syrup on her pancakes, just so so that they were covered in the most correct way. Brooke watched with her amusement, and then her mind went other places.

She’d planned the perfect day for them, the kind of day that was beyond even Vanessa’s wildest dreams. Just after breakfast, Ariel, Yvie, and some of their friends would arrive to work the farm all day while Brooke drove Vanessa into town, taking a scenic route she herself had only recently discovered after accidentally taking a wrong turn on a trip to the (relatively) local mall. When in town, she’d bring Vanessa to a private cookie-baking class, then they’d enjoy an all-you-can-eat seafood lunch before driving back and stopping in at their church, where they would renew their vows.

Not to mention the surprise she’d have ready for Vanessa when they’d arrive back home–Brooke had spent ages picking out the perfect roses to strip petals from and had Yvie’s word that they’d be scattered on the bed with classical music playing and champagne chilling, all the cliches she knew Vanessa loved, when they’d finally retreat up to their bedroom that night.

Brooke was just about to mention the plans to Vanessa when suddenly, Vanessa spoke up first. Or, rather, blurted something out, something so big that Brooke spat out her pancakes and had to ask Vanessa to repeat herself.

“I wanna have a baby with you, Brooke.”

–

Vanessa knew she’d made the wrong decision the minute Brooke spat out her food, but for some reason she persisted, hoping she was misinterpreting the gesture for some kind of pleasant shock, and that Brooke might wipe her face and smile, tell Vanessa that she was thinking the same thing. The minute she’d said it a second time, though, Brooke’s face confirmed the worst. Shit.

“Wh–Where’s this coming from?” Brooke’s brow knit in confusion, her voice suddenly shaken.

Stupid. Vanessa had had a plan; she was going to butter Brooke up, hint a little during the day, bring out baby pictures and ask when Brooke’s mind was in the right place, when she wasn’t going to overthink all the little details that they’d have to sort out down the road. Why hadn’t she stuck to it? How could she let herself get so excited that she ruined the conversation by starting it too early?

“Brooke, listen–”

But Brooke was already on a tangent of her own, the cogs clearly turning in her head to formulate the words coming out of her mouth as she spoke, shaking her head.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m opposed to the idea, we talked about that before, but we can’t , babe, we just can’t, not while we’re like this–”

“What do you mean, like this?” The words hit Vanessa like a slap in the face. Brooke faltered, and somehow, that made it even worse–whatever Brooke had meant, clearly it was so deep-seated that she couldn’t even tell Vanessa what exactly she was trying to express.

How could that be, when Vanessa thought it was going so well? The farm was booming and they were pulling in more income than ever. They had a great social life with friends from the community. Riley and the cats were thriving. Hell, they were cuddling and having sex every night , so clearly it wasn’t anything in the romance department, either. They were happy , or so Vanessa thought.

So what the fuck was wrong?

“It’s just that we’re… Well, there’s just so much to consider , Ness. Financially–”

“Financially, we’re doin’ A-plus, so I don’t see why that’s an issue.”

“It’s not just about wealth, it’s about where the money is going, we’d have to divert significant funds, which means we couldn’t expand–”

“Cut the shit.” Vanessa leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “You an’ I both know that we ain’t lookin’ to expand that fast. We would’ve talked about it by now if we were, an’ our growth hasn’t been that fast anyway. So what’s the real problem?”

Brooke looked at her with wide, sad eyes, and that’s when Vanessa knew.

“You don’t think we’ll be good parents.”

“There’s just so many ways we could fuck it up, Vanessa. I mean, think about it–it won’t stay a baby forever. We can’t protect it forever. And what if we’re the ones to hurt it in the first place?” Brooke was getting progressively redder and redder in the face as she continued, “Do you know how to deal with it if the kid gets bullied? If God forbid, they go through some kind of trauma? Or get into an accident, or get so sick they might die? If they get into the wrong crowd when they’re a teenager and start doing drugs?”

“Well, they wouldn’t, because–”

“You don’t know they wouldn’t, Ness! You don’t. And I…” Brooke stopped suddenly, looking up at Vanessa for the first time since starting her spiral.

Vanessa realized at that moment that she was shaking a little, though she couldn’t figure out why.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to bring a kid into the world when you’re so naive that you think the power of love can protect it from everything.” Somehow, the suddenly soft look in Brooke’s eyes made her words even worse to hear, her pity turning the accusation into daggers.

“I don’t think–” Vanessa started, her heart dropping into her stomach as Brooke cut her off with a shake of her head.

“Your response to me was literally ‘they wouldn’t.’ How do you know they wouldn’t?”

How the fuck could Brooke stay so calm?

“Ness, I think it’s wonderful that you have such a lovely view of the world.” Brooke continued, “And maybe you’re right, maybe you can protect our kid from everything. But I can’t, and that means that I can’t in good conscience pretend I’m ready for one. Not until I know how to deal with all the worst-case scenarios.”

There was silence, and Vanessa felt hot tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. Brooke was supposed to be excited. She was supposed to say yes. She was supposed to smile and hug Vanessa and start talking about adoption in that excited way she always talked about the future when she was sure of it.

Only Brooke wasn’t sure of it. And now Vanessa wasn’t, either.

“I think I want to be alone right now.” The words came out of Vanessa’s mouth before she even knew what she was saying, but Brooke didn’t fight them. Instead, she only nodded and hurried out of the room, leaving Vanessa alone with the pancakes.

Vanessa instantly wished she hadn’t.

–

They had talked about a kid well before they got married. What they’d name it, how they’d raise it, what kinds of toys they’d buy it and what colours they’d choose for its nursery. They’d name it Isabela if it were a girl, Brock if it was a boy. Or maybe Jordan or Cameron, something more gender-neutral, so that the kid could choose for itself what it was going to be, or opt out of that decision altogether. Their kid would be adopted, too, because when they talked about how they’d bring little Isabela-Brock-Jordan-Cameron into the world, that’s just what felt right. They would buy their kid all sorts of toys, soft ones and crinkling ones and squishy ones, ones that made noise and ones that stayed silent, ones that lit up and others that were sewn together with patches of loud patterned fabric. They would paint the nursery yellow, and decorate it with butterflies and giraffes and teddy bears.

No matter what, whenever they talked about their future child, Brooke and Vanessa decided that it would grow up to be safe, kind, compassionate, funny, smart, and absolutely, unequivocally loved.

That was then, though. Now they were grown, and married for four years, and the aunts of no less than twelve nieces and nephews. And the more those kids grew, the more Brooke saw all the things that could go wrong, and the more fear overtook Brooke when she thought about having her own kid. There were so many ways she could fuck that kid up, and she loved even the idea of her child too fiercely to think about hurting it.

So wasn’t she doing the right thing by preemptively making sure she could never hurt it, by making sure it went to family that could keep it safe?

Or maybe it wasn’t about the kid at all. Maybe it was just about herself, about how she could avoid any sense of guilt or blame.

She thought of Vanessa suddenly, and a flash of resentment stirred in her stomach, cutting through it like a knife.

How could Vanessa be so hopeful, so sure ? How could she still be holding onto their dream, so determined to make it come true? And how could she have the gall to bring that dream over to Brooke, make her feel so conflicted and guilty for being the one to squash it?

How could she bring all those dreams back up, make them resurface when Brooke had done her best to convince herself that she didn’t want them anymore?

“I thought I might find you here.” Brooke turned around and saw Vanessa walking towards her through the rows and rows of blueberry cages. Of course Vanessa would look here; of course. Leave it to Brooke to need space from her wife and go to the one place that had her written all over it.

“We’re gonna have to harvest soon.” Vanessa plopped down beside Brooke at the edge of the field in silence and staring back through the crops with her.

“Yvieand Ariel can do it today when they get here.” Brooke grunted. “I was gonna leave them to take care of everything today with a few of their friends while we went out to do some stuff I’d planned.” She grunted as she looked over at Vanessa, her wife’s brow up in confusion and surprise. “Surprise, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa replied hollowly.

“You really think we could be parents?” Brooke asked, forcing the question out before she could think twice about it.

“I do.” Vanessa nodded. “I mean, sure, we got shit to figure out. And we can’t protect the kid from everything, you right about that. But that don’t mean we can’t try, and it don’t mean we can’t love ‘em and support ‘em anyway. I mean, that’s what our parents did, right? And we turned out pretty alright.”

Brooke laughed a little despite herself. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

They sat there in silence a little longer, the wind picking up and whistling in the mid-morning air, until Vanessa slowly leaned over to rest her head lightly on Brooke’s shoulder.

“You remember when we started this farm?” Vanessa asked, closing her eyes as if she was trying to conjure an image of the memory in her mind. Brooke did the same, the flashes and snippets playing through her eyes with ease.

“Remember saving up for it? And our parents cosigning that loan, the one we thought we’d never get out of?” Brooke laughed as she recalled sitting in the financial advisor’s office, Vanessa’s hand on hers the only thing stopping her from tearing her skin apart in anxiety as they weathered his discerning coughs and little hmmmms , their future at his mercy. Her parents had been so much calmer, as if they knew everything would be okay, as if the huge estimate and heavy contract the advisor whipped up was nothing more than a few dollars and a single slip of paper.

“Yeah, moneybags was pretty dumbfounded when we paid it back so fast, wasn’t he?” Vanessa laughed too, scooting closer. “Remember how anxious we was, plantin’ our first crop?”

“The lavender.” Brooke nodded, bringing her arm over Vanessa’s shoulder. “I’d been growing it for years , but I was still so nervous I’d fuck it up, remember?”

“Yes, bitch, I do.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, “God, you were the worst back then, always so convinced you wasn’t enough…”

The tone sobered quickly then, and the silence resumed.

Not enough. That’s right. She could still feel the weight of the insecurity in her chest, the anxiety that constantly played through her head, creeping into her bones and making her feel on edge. All the things that could’ve gone wrong, all the things that she could have fucked up…

“But you was enough, wasn’t you? You showed everyone. I mean, look at us. Now we got lavender, bees, blueberries, an’ you know we almost sold on the hydrangeas startin’. The risks paid off, thanks to you bein’ such a hard worker an’ thorough planner.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t just me, babe. Both of us. I mean, you’re just such a big thinker, you’ve always got these amazing new ideas…” She laughed despite herself, quickly wiping away the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over.

Vanessa noticed, though, she always noticed, and leaned in to kiss Brooke on the cheek before guiding her face over to look Vanessa in the eyes.

“We make a good team, Brooky-poo. An’ there’s risks in everythin’ we do, but we always get through it. ‘Cause we got each other, we got our parents, Hell, we even got Yvie an’ Ariel’s lazy asses if we need ‘em.”

Brooke laughed harder than she had all morning, and when Vanessa smiled, genuine and happy and relieved, Brooke swore she could look at her wife’s face forever.

“You really think we could do it, Ness? We could be parents?”

“Oh, baby.” Vanessa’s smile took on a tenderness that melted Brooke’s heart. “I don’t think we could do it. I know we could. No matter what happens to come our way.”

Yvie and Ariel called out to announce their arrival at that moment, they and their friends visible walking towards them at the edge of the field. But even the noise of ten undergrad students wishing them happy anniversary and assuring them they could go, that they got this, couldn’t drown out Brooke’s answer, her words carried on the wind.

“Let’s do it, Ness. Let’s have a baby.”

–

They got the call around 2 AM that Plastique, the mother of the little girl they were adopting, had gone into labour. It was as if time had suddenly sped up, with everything on fast-forward as they threw together clothes, a thank-you gift for the girl’s mom, a diaper bag full of baby essentials, and–almost forgotten but snatched up at the last minute–their video camera. Excitement choked the air throughout their whole drive to the hospital, the highway seeming to stretch on endlessly and the route somehow seeming twice as long the closer they got. They were both so giddy that neither could speak, not unless it was to ask a panicked question (“Oh my God, babe,  did we forget the mittens?”) or to just squeal with happiness that the day had finally arrived (“We’re having a baby, baby! We’re having a baby!”). Every song on the radio seemed to be a love song that night, and so when they arrived at the hospital at last, they were practically floating on air until they finally set foot in the maternity ward.

Despite the late hour, the ward was absolute chaos–screams and cries echoed through the hallways, and nurses, doctors, and impatient family members rushing about gave the whole floor an air of urgency that caused a pit to open in Vanessa’s stomach.

What if some of those screams were coming from Plastique’s room? What if they weren’t regular pain, but a sign that something was wrong? What if there were complications, and the baby was sick, or injured, or worse, about to die? About to die, and she hadn’t even been there to see it born–

“Ness.” Brooke squeezed her hand, bringing her back to reality, “I know. It’s okay.”

Vanessa breathed out deeply as Brooke led her into their baby’s room, the permission to be scared somehow managing to calm her fear almost completely. And the minute they walked into the room, the minute they saw the Plastique in front of them squeezing her husband’s hand, forehead sheened with sweat, it was as if everything else lost any meaning.

“What can I do to help?”

–

They were there for another eight hours before Cameron finally greeted the world, loud and big and already the best thing to ever happen to them. Plastique was the first to hold her, Brooke watching with a tear in her eye as the young girl kissed their baby good-bye, then passed Cam off to Brooke.

Brooke had thought about this moment since the very beginning of their journey towards adoption. The moment she’d finally be able to hold her baby, the minute she’d be able to call it a part of herself.

Call her a part of herself.

It was funny; back when she had imagined this moment, she had imagined herself tense, scared, fighting back images of herself somehow fucking it up the minute her little girl was passed off to her. Thinking that she might drop her, she might hurt her, that Cam might actually hate her and start crying. That maybe, just maybe, Plastique would decide she wanted Cam back, and snatch her up and run before Brooke could even kiss her daughter good-bye. Now, though, she was waiting for that shoe to drop, and it never came. Instead, all she saw was Cameron’s beautiful, round face, and in that moment, everything clicked.

“Oh, did we miss it?” Everyone in the room looked up in surprise as Brooke and Vanessa’s mothers came crashing into the room, arms full of fake flowers, teddy bears, and latex-free balloons that floated up taller than Vanessa.

“No, Mami,” Vanessa laughed, kissing Brooke, then Cam, before taking her turn to scoop her new daughter up into her arms, “You haven’t missed anything at all.”

–

As far as Vanessa was concerned, Cam was the most beautiful baby in the world. Sure, she was small, red, and wrinkled, kind of like a really fat, really ripe tomato, but she was theirs . And that made her more amazing than anything else the world had to offer.

“Welcome home, baby!” Vanessa squealed enthusiastically as she walked through the door, Cam swaddled up in a blanket in her arms. “D’you like it?”

“She hasn’t even seen it yet, baby.” Brooke laughed, closing the door behind them.

“Oh, hush.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “She loves it here, see? She’s even waking up to look at everything!”

It was like she’d just said magic words; Brooke dropped the diaper bag she was holding and ran to Vanessa’s side, a huge grin spread on her face as she began to coo and fuss over Cam’s wide-eyed stare.

“She looks so confused, oh my God ,” Brooke squealed, already practically in tears, “I love her, Vanessa, I love her so fucking much.”

“Hey!” Vanessa barked, “You want some kinda swear to be her first word? Watch your mouth, bitch.” Realizing what she’d just said, she reddened as Brooke began to laugh.

“What d’you think, Cammie, should we take you upstairs to see your new room?” Brooke took Cam from Vanessa’s arms and cradled her gently, bringing her up to her face and breathing in that intoxicating new-baby smell, the scent even sweeter now that it belonged to her own child.

“Oh, d’you know if my mom dropped off Bertha yet?” Vanessa frowned as they walked up the stairs, and Brooke nodded.

“She texted and said she’d be back in about an hour with lunch and some food for the week, too.” They pushed their way into the nursery, decked out with soft yellow walls, monkey-patterned curtains, and, indeed, Bertha, a stuffed frog that had served as Vanessa’s favourite toy growing up, sitting on the change table. In the middle of the room, just beside the table, sat Cam’s basin, a white and lacy thing that the little girl seemed to settle into right when they put her down. Of course, this was short lived, and she began to cry soon after Brooke let her down, but all was well again when she was in Brooke’s arms, safe and sound and comforted as Brooke rocked her back and forth.

“See?” Vanessa placed a hand on Brooke’s shoulder, the other one coming to rest gently on Cam’s small, bundled-up body as they continued to rock her gently, “We got this, Brooke. Together.”

–

You’re not going to get any sleep tonight, I hope you know that, mija. Vanessa’s mother’s coy warning rang in her ears as Brooke and Vanessa settled to bed that night, baby monitor blinking by their bedside and door wide open to give them a view into where Cameron was sleeping. They were both on edge, both listening for any signs of trouble, any little whimpers that might turn into full-blown cries.

When Vanessa woke at 3 AM, realizing with a jolt that she’d fallen asleep, and that she hadn’t been woken up the entire night, the first thing she did was look for Brooke, only to find her wife’s side of the bed empty.

Oh no.

Oh God.

Without another second passing, Vanessa was up and sprinting across the hall.

When she got to Cam’s room, though, her heart instantly returned to its normal pace, all her worries dissipating.

Brooke was standing in the middle of the room, bags under her eyes and their daughter’s tiny form nestled against her chest, head firmly supported in one of Brooke’s hands.

“She started crying about half an hour ago, and didn’t want me to leave.” Brooke whispered, shrugging a little.

“How many times have you been up tonight?” Vanessa frowned, walking over to Brooke and laying a soft hand on Cameron’s back for good measure.

“I don’t know,” Brooke shrugged again, bouncing Cam when she stirred in her arms until the little girl settled again, “Four or five, maybe? It’s okay, she just wants company. Maybe we should move the basin into our room for now?”

Seeing Brooke’s face go from loving to concerned, biting her lip with worry as she continued to bounce their daughter lightly, absolutely melted Vanessa’s heart. Brooke had worried so much, had been so hesitant, yet here she was, already attentive, already intuitive, already knowing exactly what their baby needed.

How fitting that all their baby needed right now was her mothers.

Vanessa nodded, already moving to grab the basin and carry it into the bedroom, Brooke following closely behind.

“What’s the matter?” Vanessa frowned at Brooke, who had suddenly frozen to the spot in front of the newly-settled basin, her demeanour becoming hesitant.

“I, um… What if she cries again?” Brooke looked down at their daughter, brow knit in concern. Vanessa couldn’t help but give a laugh.

“Go sleep, baby.” Vanessa craned up to give Brooke a kiss on the cheek before gently replacing Brooke’s hold on Cam’s sleeping body with her own arms, “I got you.”

Brooke smiled gratefully, collapsing into the bed and snuggling up into the blankets with a contented sigh.

“And your mama thought she wouldn’t be a good parent.” Vanessa cooed to Cameron as she leaned down to give the sleeping baby a gentle kiss, finally laying her down in her basin and creeping back into bed, hoping that Brooke hadn’t fallen asleep before having a chance to hear her.

When Brooke turned and snuggled close, though, Vanessa knew that Brooke had absorbed every single word.

[cupofteaguk]

behind these walls

summary: you’re sleeping on my best friend’s couch while your house is being renovated and you have really weird habits like attempting to sing opera in the shower and you keep eating all of my cheerios 

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: neighbors au, college au | fluff

warnings: lots of banter, sexual tension, yes it’s probably a very lowkey enemies to lovers au

word count: 4k

a/n: this is probably one of the first fics i had up on my old blog and i have a lot of love for this story so here you go! 

.

When you first meet Jeon Jungkook, you aren’t entirely sure if you like him or not.

But, then again, it could be because the pair of you had met under extremely unusual circumstances—the unfolding of an awkward introduction that had been partially your fault.

Okay, maybe it had been mostly your fault.

But, in your defense, it isn’t everyday you enter the apartment belonging to your best friend and throw yourself upon the couch, only to find that it is already occupied by a strange figure—one that is much too tall and lanky to be a certain Kim Taehyung.

“Holy shit—!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m sorry!” You exclaim reflexively, springing off the couch, really studying it this time and noticing that there is actually a lump underneath the blankets that you originally thought had been thrown haphazardly upon the furniture. It’s only then that you realize the figure underneath the blanket has barely poked his head out, just enough to see his mess of black hair and brown eyes glaring at you.

“Is this a habit of yours?” The boy inquires suddenly, voice low and husky from having just been awaken rather abruptly. “Sitting on people who are just trying to get a good night’s rest after working overtime for the whole week?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have sat on you if you hadn’t imposed in my friend’s apartment to take refuge on his couch!” You snap back, still quite unable to believe the situation you have found yourself in—and it’s only 8:00 in the morning.

The boy groans underneath the blanket as if he desires nothing more than to rid himself of this conversation and return back to his slumber. “Seems like you’re the one imposing on me.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Nothing, nothing.” The boy waves off dismissively, turning slightly with his limited space on the couch to curl deeper into the cushions. “Taehyung let me stay here,” He states, voice slightly muffled by the blanket, saying this as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

You’re about to cross your arms over your chest and retort just why exactly Taehyung would let a complete stranger spend the night on his couch (you know that Taehyung has a heart of gold, but this a new sight to behold), when the very man in question comes out of the bathroom, the steam of his recent shower following them briefly. He is running a towel through his damp brown hair, stopping in his tracks immediately upon the sight before him.

Taehyung takes in the sight of a very tired, very disinterested Jungkook pressing himself as deeply into the cushions of the couch as he can possibly go and you, wearing a deeply unimpressed scowl, arms across your chest, clearly ready to start squawking at the poor boy before he decides to intercept. “Morning you two.”

“Tae, who is this?” You inquire suddenly, not even bothering to return the morning greeting. “You haven’t been taking in strays now, have you?”

“Wow, you are certainly a delight, aren’t you?” Jungkook retorts back, just barely craning his neck to give you another bitter look that could sour milk. “Annoying isn’t a good shade on you—I almost didn’t recognize you from the pictures on Taehyung’s wall.”

You flush slightly at the adjective the boy has used to describe you. Finally, you spin on your heel to fix Taehyung with an incredulous look. The latter boy simply looks amused at the dispute unfolding before him.

“Tae,” You start, the slight waver in your voice clearly displaying your barely suppressed anger and irritation. “Why is this very rude and bitter man sleeping on your couch?”

“There’s a blanket over my head, but I can still hear you—!”

“His name is Jungkook,” Taehyung interrupts cheerily, running the towel through his hair one more time before discarding it onto another, much smaller couch in the living room. “His apartment is getting renovated—something about finally getting all the walls repainted and fixing up the layout of some of the appliances. I offered him a place to stay at until his gets finished.”

Taehyung is giving you an expectant look, as if expecting you to argue about this arrangement. You open your mouth a few times to try and say something—anything. But words fail you, because the reasoning actually makes sense and Taehyung still has a heart of gold.

Now that you have some context to match with the once mysterious man on the couch, a part of you feels guilty for impending so suddenly on the boy. Now that you know that Taehyung knows this… Jungkook (and must clearly find him trustworthy of sorts), a part of you relaxes. A little.

“Oh—alright.” You look at Jungkook, blinking a little in surprise when you find he has pulled the blanket entirely from his face. He’s wearing a suddenly sly half-smile, but that’s not why you stare.

Jungkook, in spite of his grumbling attitude and messy glares, actually looks quite young—maybe he’s the same age as you. He has freshly dyed brown hair, currently messy and sticking up in different directions from sleep. His eyes are brown, gently crinkled in the corners, lips painfully distracting, curled up into a small smile. He’s staring right back at you.

You blink again. “What?” You snap, not meaning to sound as harsh as you probably do.

Jungkook is still smiling, but he sits up this time. He’s wearing a relatively loose black t-shirt. “Taehyung told me that you come over a lot because his place is closer to campus than yours.”

You look over your shoulder to find that Taehyung has disappeared, probably to get his belongings for your first morning lecture. “Yeah,” You manage in a slightly uneasy tone. You hope Jungkook hadn’t noticed you had been checking him out moments ago. “So I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then.”

If Jungkook notices your nervous disposition, he doesn’t comment. “Maybe,” He answers vaguely. “I work a lot—but I’m expecting some time off this week because I have midterms coming up and everything. You’ll probably be seeing me in my natural state with coffee and ramen noodles in my blood.”

“Touche,” You agree quietly, well aware that midterms are rapidly approaching and that you too will be surviving the week off hot cheetos and coffee.

The pair of you are about to trail off into silence (whether it be awkward or comfortable, it’s too hard to tell right now), before Taehyung reappears from his bedroom. He has his backpack slung around his shoulder and slightly more presentable clothing on compared to this original sweatpants and oversized t-shirt. “Ready to go?” He asks you, and you nod in return.

“Okay, see you back here for lunch, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung says brightly. “Lucky for you, Y/N is making beef bowl—it’s to die for.”

Jungkook visibly brightens at the topic of consuming food. “Looking forward to it, hyung.” He fixes you with another smile. “See you later, Y/N.”

You give him another look, wondering if this is how the next few weeks are going to play out. Instead of returning the friendly, polite gesture of parting, you merely give him a coy smile. “Don’t eat my cheerios.”

.

To say that Jungkook is an interesting roommate (forget roommate, just human being in general) would be an understatement. He’s actually quite unpredictable—he just doesn’t fit into the stereotypical prototype mold you once assumed of upon first meeting Jungkook. It’s kind of unsettling to you. He never fails to surprise you.

One prime example of this finds you in a Tuesday afternoon as you use the spare key to Taehyung’s apartment to enter the empty space. At least, you think it’s empty.

As soon as you shut the door behind you, you immediately become aware of the running water sounding through the apartment. Frowning, you gently discard your backpack onto the breakfast table, eyes flinting to the post-it note taped to the surface, your name dancing across in Taehyung’s familiar scrawl.

Y/N,

I’ve gone to my professor’s office hours to ask some questions about the upcoming physics lab. I should be back in about 3 hours.

-Tae (his name is accompanied with his classic smiley face, one that makes you smile slightly)

It’s around this time that your ears pick up a distant melody echoing between the walls of the apartment. The melody is lead by a familiar tune that you can’t quite place, yet…

Then, the voice starts belting the song, using words this time instead of mere noises, and the realization makes the smile curl almost unconsciously on your lips, because Jeon Jungkook doesn’t just sing in the shower. He belts out the notes as if he’s front stage in the middle of a sold out concert.

It’s endearing. Cute, even.

Your lips curl down when you realize that your thoughts are betraying your previous attempts to dislike this boy as much as possible.

Before you can possibly try to decide your next motives, the sound of the running water shuts off. However, Jungkook is still singing. He is still singing (still quite loudly, mind you) as the door to the bathroom opens and suddenly Jungkook is standing right front and center in the middle of the hallway. Drenched in water, shirtless—hell, practically naked if not for the towel wrapped around his waist.

And you can’t help but stare again (God, is staring the only thing you can actually do when you’re around Jeon Jungkook?), because holy shit, who knew the very tired, very bitter, very eager-to-get-rid-of-you boy was so fit? Fuck, had he been lying to you this entire time about working overtime when he really just spends every pretty penny of his life at the gym?

It takes you a second to realize that Jungkook is actually asking you a question. “I—I’m sorry, what did you say?”

You will yourself to look at Jungkook, wondering whether you will see his amused smile or sly smirk this time, along with some sort of teasing on his part. It seems as if Jungkook is incapable of getting through one conversation with you without doing or saying something to get that red dusting your cheeks…

“I asked if you had been here this whole time.”

You fix your gaze upon Jungkook and realize with a shock that he looks positively nervous—there is red across his whole cheeks, his hand is scratching the back of his neck, and he looks as if he’s suddenly trying to make himself look as small as possible.

You’re sure at this point, you’re looking a little nervous about the situation you have found yourself in. “Um… sorry,” You apologize instead of actually answering his question, although you suppose that you technically are answering his question in this way. “If it makes you feel better, you have a really nice voice…?”

Jungkook merely flushes more at your observation. The sight is so unlike the normally very confident boy you’ve become accustomed over the past week, so unlike the boy who looks as if he prefers to hide his real emotions underneath layers of easy smirks and pre-rehearsed sentences.

He finally breaks the silence. “I don’t normally sing when people are around.”

“Hm, well that makes me feel special,” You say, surprising yourself with next the genuine words that come out of your mouth: “You’re really talented, Jungkook.”

When you slide your gaze back up to look at Jungkook, he has a dark look in his eyes, intensely studying your expression—as if studying the lines across for signs of sarcasm, and growing troubled when he can’t seem to find anything.

“Thanks.”

The pair of you transition into a tense silence, neither able to look away from the other. Even though you thought your self control had developed over the few minutes you were conversing with Jungkook, your eyes unconsciously dip lower, beneath his neck and take in his collarbone, the muscles along his stomach—!

“Like what you see?”

You blink and immediately rip your gaze away from his figure—making sure to flip him off in return, a gesture he chuckles at.

.

You can’t help but let out a groan as you stretch your arms over your head, tilting back slightly and sighing when you hear the final satisfaction of bones cracking. So far, midterms have been kicking your ass in the least pleasant way possible, and you would have agreed to fling yourself off the nearest cliff if it hadn’t been for Taehyung and Jungkook keeping you company when you decide to spend a majority of your afternoons with Taehyung to study.

Jungkook’s constant presence in Taehyung’s apartment has become so normal for you that you start to expect seeing him eating in the kitchen, napping on the couch, or flipping through the TV—“He already paid for half of my rent this month as a thanks for letting him stay with me, Y/N, stop glaring at him like that”.

Today is no exception as Taehyung shoulders open the door to reveal Jungkook leaning against the kitchen counter, a spoon in hand. Immediately, the latter freezes at your appearance, his mouth parted halfway. He looks as if he’s been caught doing something, something he’s been warned against in the past.

“Y/N, you’re here…” He says by way of greeting, watching you carefully to observe your future expressions.

You eye him suspiciously. “Yeah… my afternoon classes got canceled.” You narrow your eyes slightly. “Jungkook, what are you doing?”

“Nothing?” The answer sets you slightly on edge. What has Jungkook done this time?

“Seriously, what are you doing—?” You round the corner and stop immediately when you see what Jungkook has in his bowl.

It’s your Cheerios, completely filled to the brim.

“Those are my Cheerios!” You retort, pointing at them and then pointing at Jungkook. “You’re eating my Cheerios!”

Yes, they are your Cheerios, as you had so graciously pointed out to Jungkook the multitude of times the pair of you had been in the kitchen together—and you had felt it both your duty and obligation to constantly remind the boy about your own personal box of cereal you leave at Taehyung’s during the cases you really needed something healthy to snack on during the day. The box had been emptying rather quickly over the past few weeks, leaving you to constantly go out to refill the stock, initially thinking nothing of it, until right now…

“You’re the reason I’ve been running out so quickly!” You accuse, pacing quickly to the cabinet to dig through and find the box in question.

“It’s not my fault they’re so good!” Jungkook snaps back.

Taehyung merely watches the scene with another amused look, settling himself down at the kitchen table to get started on his homework.

You pull the Cheerios box out of the cabinet, face falling upon discovering how light it has become. “You finished the whole fucking thing?” You inquire incredulously as you open the box and realize that while it is not completely devoid of those brown little donut shapes you’ve become so fond of eating over the past few years, Jungkook should have might as well finished the whole thing. Without a warning, you turn around and throw the box at him. It hits the back of his head with a hollow bang. “Asshole, I just bought this yesterday!”

“Great!” Jungkook says back, mouth full of Cheerios, holding up an empty bowl. “You can buy some more today. I just finished this.”

You narrow your eyes as you bend down momentarily to swipe up the box from the floor, straightening to bring the cardboard back down on Jungkook’s head. Although you have a tiptoe slightly (because Jungkook is tall, and you height brings you up to his neck at best), there is still a high feeling of satisfaction as Jungkook sputters something incoherent upon the box making contact with his head again. There is more force behind the attack this time, because he hunches over and tries to make himself as small as possible. However, this only makes it easier for you to continuously hit him with the cereal box.

“Ow—fuck—stop that!” Jungkook crows. “Why are you hitting so hard—you’re a lot stronger than you look.”

“Damn right!”

“Okay—okay—shit, ow!” Jungkook continues. “Fine, fine—what if I bought the Cheerios myself?”

“Then you’ll just eat them all over again!”

“Two!” He manages. “Two—I’ll buy two! I’ll label them and everything!”

Satisfied with the events, you elect to stop hitting him with the Cheerios box. You step away, watching Jungkook straighten out, his cheeks red. “You’d better.”

Watching Jungkook grumble out his response makes the smallest of smiles curl on your lips. Just a little bit.

.

One month upon Jungkook’s intrusion in your life through fate brings you into Taehyung’s apartment, pocketing the keys as you try to balance the take-out food you have in your hands. “Hey Tae, Jungkook.”

You enter the apartment to find Taehyung sitting at the breakfast table, but you stop upon noticing something wrong with the situation before you. There’s no other tall, brown-haired boy lodging around, flickering through the TV, or dancing around in the kitchen, or blasting music from his laptop.

Taehyung seems to read your mind, because he barely even spares you a glance as he answers the question you are about to ask: “Jungkook left.”

You blink, unable to help the feeling of a brick falling in your stomach. “What?”

“His apartment was finished yesterday, so he moved back in this morning.”

You bite your lip. “Well, I guess the place will be a lot quieter with him gone huh?” You turn your back to him as you rest the take-out bag on the counter, internally cursing yourself and the feelings that rumble in your chest with the realization that Jungkook was out of Taehyung’s apartment. While a part of you was supposed to expect his eventual departure (his place in Taehyung’s house had always been temporary), you still feel slightly disappointed to know that you will no longer walk into Taehyung’s apartment to find Jungkook coming out of the shower—water sticking to his bangs—or trying out new recipes when it was his turn to cook dinner.

“Mm, is that take-out?” Taehyung inquires, drawing you out of your thoughts. He laces his fingers together and stretches them over his head.

“Yeah, it’s…” You trail off, turning to read the restaurant name plastered across the take-out bag. “Jungkook’s favorite,” You find yourself saying before you can stop yourself.

Something glints in Taehyung’s eyes.

He looks at his phone and momentarily starts. “Oh shoot, Y/N, I totally forgot that I have a study session in like, five minutes. I have to go.”

Your face falls slightly. “But I bought all this food!”

Taehyung is still wearing a smile you can’t quite read yet. “Try room 267—the one across the hall. He would probably enjoy having company tonight.”

You frown, rubbing at your forehead. “Tae, I’m not in the mood for your games.”

“Trust me,” Taehyung says, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and disappearing out of the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Room 267… what on earth?

However, considering that you don’t have anything to lose, you grab the take-out box and make you way to 267, which so happens to be a few doors down from Taehyung’s. Not thinking too much into it, you knock on the door and wait.

Jungkook opens the door, and looks startled. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

You stare at Jungkook for a second before you start to laugh, because Taehyung, that motherfucker. “Oh, Jungkook, hey, how are you?”

He bites his lip as if he’s trying to diffuse a grin. “I’m good. Happy to be back in my apartment. Tae’s couch was a killer on the back.”

“Ah, of course. I forgot how much the drama queen needs his beauty sleep,” You retort with a roll of your eyes.

“How else was I supposed to go around and impress you?” Jungkook plays along, winking a little as his grin merely widens in response. “So what can I help you with? I didn’t realize you would have missed me this much—I just left this morning.”

“You’re hilarious,” You sneer lightly. “But, uh, no, not really. Tae couldn’t eat dinner with me, and I bought way too much food so maybe you’d like to finish this with me?” You hold up the take-out, purposely showing off the name of Jungkook’s favorite restaurant, watching the way his eyes darken as he suddenly opens the door wider.

“You know I never say no to free food.”

“Yah, that reminds me, you still owe me 5 boxes of Cheerios now that you’re gone!”

Jungkook scoffs as he leads you towards the kitchen. The remodeling of his apartment had definitely done wonders to the place, despite the fact that you have never seen Jungkook’s place before the refurbishments. Everything looks cleaner and fresh, with a slightly more modern twist that looks so Jungkook for some reason—the sight makes you smile. “It was just 5 boxes!”

��Easy for you say—you were the one who ate most of them!” You retort as you place the take-out bag on the kitchen counter, suddenly becoming aware of how disarmingly quiet the apartment has grown.

Spinning on your heel, you notice Jungkook leaning against the wall, giving you a look you can’t quite place yet. “How about…” He starts in a slow, delicate sort of voice. “I make it up to you by taking you out on a date?”

You blink, having not expected that. “What?”

You must sound so exasperated by the question that Jungkook averts his gaze from you. “Well, I don’t know—it’s free food for you, and I’d be the one paying—!”

“No, no, it’s not the food.” You take a step forward, your heart beating a little quicker in your chest. However, in spite of this, you can’t help the slightly smug smile that finds itself across your mouth. “You’re asking me out on a date?”

“Well—uh, yeah.” When he sees your smile, he flushes. “You don’t have to say yes, I just thought I’d ask—I just think you’re really interesting… and I’ve kind of always wanted to get to know you more—you know, outside of Tae’s apartment.”

“Jungkookie-ah,” You drop in a teasing voice. “Are you trying to say you have a crush on me?”

He manages a half-hearted, one-shoulder. “Maybe—but maybe I’m also asking because I saw the way you were checking me when I was naked that one time, and I’m trying to spare you the embarrassment of you having to ask me out yourself.”

You choke. “You weren’t even totally naked.”

“That’s a sight you would have liked to see, huh?”

You shake your head. “You’re unbelievable. You know, for a guy trying to ask a girl out on a date, you’re not doing a really good job of selling yourself.” You’re trying to sound serious, but the smile in your voice completely gives you away.

Jungkook detaches himself from the wall. “I’m trying a few different tricks. Are any of them working?”

“Maybe you could try asking me a little bit nicer,” You challenge, tilting your chin up a little.

“I already did—!” Jungkook starts, but he stops when he catches your look. “Okay, okay.” He approaches you with a cautious tap in his step. He takes your hand, and you let him. “Y/N,” He starts, giving you doe-eyes and tilting his head a little to give you a look you can’t help but smile a little at. “Will you pretty please, with sprinkles on top of vanilla ice cream—because I know you hate cherries—let me take you out on a date?”

The little fact he throws in about the ice cream and the cherries makes a giggle erupt from the back of your throat, and you’re laughing a little. Jungkook watches you fondly.

“Yes I will—but now that you’ve bought up vanilla ice cream and sprinkles, you know that I’m expecting a part of this date to incorporate dessert.”

He grins as he leans forward and swiftly kisses your cheek. “Honestly, I would have been surprised if you weren’t.”

[captnbarnesrogers]

9,445 Miles From You - Your First Day

Pairing/Characters: Bartender!Harry Styles x Waitress!Reader, a shit load of OCs Warnings: nothin too bad in this chapter; swearing, anxiety  Chapter Summary: You fought your anxiety and now you’ve got a job. You meet your co-workers and managers but most importantly, you meet Harry Styles, who is one of a kind. Word Count: 3.1k+ A/N: Mostly some background stuff but Harry makes an appearance :)

9MFY Masterlist

February 2018

At this point in time, you weren’t exactly sure what was happening with your life. You were eighteen and jobless and so far, not even McDonald’s wanted you. You were depressed. You had no money of your own and financially, your parents couldn’t provide everything for you without sacrificing everything else that needed to be done. You needed to be independent. You wanted to be independent so that you could, even just a little bit, take a bit of weight off of their shoulders.

Another day, another failed interview. You huffed with frustration and threw your folder into the nearest bin. You tried to stay positive, but this was the seventh interview in a row where they had found a “more suitable candidate” – excluding all the previous interviews within the last three years. You gave them all of your hours, even the hours you didn’t have and couldn’t give but still, they had advised you to put down “more” hours. A more suitable candidate? More hours? Bullshit. There were only so many hours in a day and you had put down ‘24 hours’ in your resume and yet, they wanted more hours. You were angry with the world. Why couldn’t they just give you a job? You were hard working. You had initiative. No experience due to the fact that no other place wanted to hire you but nonetheless, you were the person who wanted to learn anything and everything in anyway you possibly could. You had a smile for days even if you didn’t want it for fucksake! You sighed and eventually, when you got home, cried into your pillow.

“I just don’t get it, I’m giving them everything I’ve got, even everything I don’t.” You cleansed your face as your best friend was on loud speaker.

“I know, Y/N, but like your mom said, if it’s for you then you’ll get but obviously these places don’t have a spot for you, it’s not you, Y/N, they’re dickheads.” You sighed after grabbing your phone off of the marble top bathroom bench. There was a moment of silence due to the fact that Anastasia was working on an assessment for one of her classes – most probably due the next day due to the fact that she kept complaining about how much she wanted to die.

“You know…” You began.

“What?”

“Paige told me about this group on Facebook and I joined it a couple of days ago.” You pulled up the group and took a screencap, sending it to Anastasia.

“Hospitality Job Hunters? Are you sure this is legit?”

“Yeah,” You shrugged as if she was actually right in front of you, “I know some people who got jobs from there, I guess people just post pictures of themselves and a description of what they’re about and a future employer responds.” Anastasia hums in response, looking through the photos you’d sent her.

“So, why not do it?”

“Well, first of all have to seen my face? My body? Compare all of this to the people who post on there.” She scoffs.

“Okay, first of all, shut the fuck up, you’re fine, and second of all, you’re posting to get a job, it’s not Tinder!”

“It’s like Tinder for jobs though.” She sighed through the phone, the taps of the keyboard loud enough for you to hear through the phone.

“I don’t know, Y/N, I reckon, just do it, you never know if you don’t try.” You mumbled a ‘whatever’ through the phone and another moment of silence crashed the entire conversation, “Anyway, I gotta get this done, text me in the morning?”

“Will do, ya lil bitch, have fun with that.” She laughs.

“I will, don’t worry.”

“If another person rejects me, I’ll stick my head between a door and slam it on myself.”

“You’ll be fine! Just relax and rip it off, like a band aid.” You let out a deep breath, “I love you, okay?”

“Love you too.” And with that, the phone call ended. You laid in your bed staring at the wall. You just needed to sleep this off, you can decide in the morning.

When you woke up, you still hadn’t decided and on top of that, you barely slept, making you cranky and ridiculously sleepy on the train. When you arrived to your class, you sat down next to your friends who greeted you warmly as they always did. Jean noticed your intense stare at your phone; three photos – one happy which showed your outgoing personality as much a still photo could, one smiling before seeing a musical, and one that looked like a headshot.

“Nice photos.” Jean compliments. Kadia looks over and agrees with Jean with a smile.

“What are they for?” Kadia asks.

“I’m kind of looking for a job on that Facebook group.” Jean nods. Shortly after, your other friends, Kiley, Bea, and Megan walk in and sit at the table just behind you. Kiley moves her blond hair away from her face.

“Just post them, Y/N.” She suggests, her sweet and shy voice comes out. The other nod.

“This is your last option, if you don’t get it, you’ll just have to wait until we graduate.” Bea interjects, “And that’s two years away.” And with that small push from your friends, you write a small description of your personality and attach the three photos into the post, pressing ‘post’ as quickly as you could. You set your phone down as Jean rubs your back in support and after fifteen minutes, you phone vibrates.

‘Jacob Fisher commented on you post on Hospitality Job Hunters’ It had said. You squeezed Jean’s arm and she looked at you with concern.

“Someone commented.” You whispered.

“Check it.” And so, you did. You gasped after you read it, “What?!”

“’Hey, Y/N! Send your resume through to my email and leave your number as well, I’ll call you today, so we can set up an interview.’” You read out to her quietly. She shook you by the shoulders and gave you a warm hug.

“This is it, Y/N, this is your job.” And you could feel it too, this was the one. This was your job, you believed. Eventually, Jacob called you with an interview waiting the next day. So far, everything was going great. You felt like you could breathe even just for a moment.

The next day, you’d met up with Jacob at a tall building, obviously the bar you were to hopefully going to work at. A small but very visually appealing sign hung above the entrance, ‘Heavenly Gin’, blinking bright and very pink. You sat by the front side of the bar where you were greeted by a blonde-haired girl with bright blue eyes, her smile was warm and welcome.

“Hi! How can I help you?” Just in front of you was a man, he too had blonde hair but his eyes were green and almost hazel, not a bad sight at all. You blushed softly at the sight of him when he smiled at you.

“I’m actually here to see Jacob Fisher.” You smiled at the girl.

“I’ll get him for you.” She held her hand out for you to shake. With nervous and clampy hands, you shook it, “I’m Regina, by the way.”

“Y/N.” As you waited, the blonde-haired boy began to make conversation.

“Hi, Y/N.” He greeted with a smile. Everyone, so far, seemed to be chirpy and you felt right in place, “I’m Roger.” He too held his hand out for you to shake which you did. He continued to polish the cutlery in front of him and separated them into different trays, “So, how’d you find us?”

“I, uh, posted on this Facebook group.”

“Ah.” He nodded, “Most of our bartenders here did the same.”

“Really? I feel less weird now.” You chuckled.

“Oh yeah? I’ve got another one for you, one of our bartenders actually ‘applied’, if you will, when he was drunk out of his mind during a night out and now, he’d been working here for two years.” It made you laugh. The though of a drunk guy having a very drunk conversation with Roger about how he needed a job, “On a scale of one to ‘I feel so out of place’, how weird do you feel now?”

“After that? I’m at a two.” He chuckled at your reply, “How long have you worked here?” You continued.

“I was hired just before the renovations, so around seven or eight months.”

“So, long?” You questioned, and he nodded.

“Long enough.” Footsteps were heard behind you.

“Aha! There she is, hi, Y/N, I’m Jacob!” Jacob was just a bit shorter than Roger. He wore a colourful Hawaiian shirt with some khakis, his brown hair was slicked back and his beard was quite thick. You jumped off of the bar stool and shook his hand, “Just come through here.” He took you behind the bar through a dining area after waving goodbye to Roger and Regina. He asked you about your likes and dislikes and why you wanted to work there. You chatted heavily about the Winter Olympics which you bullshitted a little bit due to your lack of knowledge on most of the sports but in the end, Jacob smiled and commended you for your quite outgoing personality. He had let you know that there was another waitress he needed to interview but so far, everything was going good for you and if he hadn’t taken another interviewee, he would’ve hired you on the spot but still, things were looking up. You thanked him for his time and said your last goodbyes to Regina and Roger before exiting the venue. You took and deep breath and prayed to whatever God there was up in the heavens and down below hell to bless you with this job and these seemingly good people.

By the week after, sure enough, Jacob had emailed you a list of uniform preferences and where to be when.

Friday, February 23rd, 2018

The smell of brewed beer and oak flooring filled your nose as the clock struck 3:30 PM. You wore a black top and blue jeans with black and white sneakers – regulatory uniform for staff at the venue. You were once again greeted by Roger who introduced you to the Venue Manager, Tyrone, and the Bar Manager, Josh. Tyrone looked down at you, not in a euphemistic way but in the literal sense. The man was at most, to you, like six foot five. He greeted you with what you sensed was an absolutely fake smile. He was unsure of you, almost like he didn’t trust you and your lack of experience and skills. You were used to the stare due to the fact that most places you had applied for, the interviewers had the same belittling stare. Tyrone showed you around the venue and the staff area before giving you a name tag and sending you upstairs into the high ground bar. Josh greeted you after you pushed your way through a sea of people.

“You feeling okay?” You nodded, “I can tell you’re overwhelmed and if you feel anxious at all throughout the night, just let me, Gianna,” He gestured to a small woman, with curly hair sticking out of her bun, “or Jane,” She was tall with blonde hair who smiled sillily at you, trying to make you feel welcome, “know, okay?” You nodded again with a much realer smile. Josh then introduced you to a fellow waiter, Joe, who wore glasses and had his long hair tied into a bun. He smiled sweetly at you and shook your hand. Josh left you with Joe who showed you every basic thing you needed to know; collect plates, glasses, light the candles, and of course, take some orders. He explained that at night, the bar turns into a club and that we needed to keep the place clean which meant checking bathrooms and cleaning up broken glass. To be quite frank, you didn’t know that waitressing meant doing all of this stuff, though, you weren’t complaining.

“So yeah, we’re pretty much the back bone of the bar, without us, these people would go to shits.” He laughed. Joe was sweet and made himself feel welcome and approachable. This was dangerous, knowing yourself, this would eventually get messy. He was sweet, handsome, funny, and approachable which was honestly a recipe for disaster for someone looking for love and affection. Someone who was inexperience with the world like you. He interrupted your thoughts, “By the way, you’re not the only new kid, see that guy over there?” He pointed over to another guy who looked almost exactly like him; long hair tucked away in a bun and glasses. You nodded, “That’s Harry, he’d new as well, maybe you could both bond over that.” He chuckled.

As night fell, Joe asked you to light up some candles and start spreading them out on each table. You subtly observed Harry from afar. He was handsome, incredibly handsome. When the light shone on his eyes, they were emerald green. His smile was contagious, evident in the fact that the girls he was serving were all smiley and giggly which also meant that he was probably a good conversationalist. You hadn’t noticed yourself staring until Harry quite loudly placed a glass into the dishwashing rack, making you clear your throat and look away.

“Girls seem a li’l crazy tonigh’, aye?” He began.

“Yeah, crazy.” You reply, still lighting up the candles.

“’M Harry.” He smiles.

“I know,” You cringed at yourself, “I mean, I don’t know but now I do know since you told me- Jesus, sorry, I’m- I’m Y/N, sorry to ramble, I guess I’m just nervous.”

“First day too?” You nodded, “I was like tha’ when I first started workin’ at a bar bu’ don’ worry, shit gets easier, don’ stress, yeah?” At this point, you were trying not to. And just like Joe had said, the bar had turned into a club type scene. People were starting to stumble in from their pre-drinks and began to order drinks from the Heavenly Gin bar. They started gathering on the dancefloor as early 2000s and late 1990s music blasted from the speakers. This was all fun and laughter to you since you’d never actually been clubbing or the such. You danced and sang along but still worked hard which you were commended by Josh when he laughed as he walked by. You continued collecting glasses that were empty and even collected one that was sitting in the same spot for almost four hours, untouched. It was almost empty, a sip left, and it would’ve been completely drained and so, you took it upon yourself to collect the glass, knowing that it was a rule to collect such glasses just in case it’d been spiked. The music was getting better and better which only made you dance more, making Harry laugh and join in. A few moments later, while putting some glasses away, you heard a commotion at the bar, making you turn your head. A dishevelled man was arguing with Harry.

“Who the fuck took my glass!?” He pointed at you and began to make his way behind the bar, “It was you, wasn’t it!?” The slur in his voice made it evident that he was, in fact, drunk.

“I- I, I just- I-it was s-sitting there, almost empty, I-” Harry watched as you stammered and stumbled on your words. He inched closer trying to keep him away. The man kept coming closer which only made Harry grow more protective over you. He held his arm out in front of you to keep you away from the intoxicated patron.

“I will talk t’her, mate, jus’ step outta th’bar.” The man growled in frustration.

“Next time, don’t take someone’s-“

“Mate, jus’ calm down! I said I’ll talk t’her, I’ll get yeh anotha drink, jus’ step out, yeh don’ need t’yell at her, I’s no’ tha’ big of a deal.” You stood behind Harry with the tea towel, that once hung off of your apron, covering your face. The man walked away with a huff, “Hey, yeh okay, love?” You couldn’t breathe, it was like the world suddenly crumbled around you, “Okay, okay, yeh alrigh’, Y/N, I’s no’ yeh fault, I’s yeh job, lovie.” He tapped the other bartender and let them know that he was off to take care of you. He took your hand and led you to the side door which led to the staff entrance. He rubbed your back and held you in his arms, hushing your sobs, telling you that you were going to be okay. After a while, Harry left you to calm down, Josh telling him the he urgently needed to be back at the bar. He left you with sad and sorry eyes, completely regretful and not wanting you to be left alone with your thoughts. You guessed that he knew what this feeling was like. When you had calmed down, you returned to your work and tried to cast away the anxious thoughts of being fired after your first day and to be faced with, once again, with the intoxicated patron who had been the source of your panic attack. Harry checked up on you frequently, rubbing your back comfortingly whilst speaking to you. It was later, after work, when you found out that Harry had spoken to the security guards and asked them to eject the man which made your heart warm. After work, you sat in the locker rooms by your locker and took a deep breath. Harry walked in and gave you a soft smile.

“How’s m’girl?” He asked, taking his jacket, bag, and red and white bobbled beanie out of his locker.

“I’m okay now.”

“That’s good.” He nodded. You weren’t really good at expressing gratitude and making the words ‘thank you’ leave your lips felt almost foreign in the sense that no one had really done this for you before. You cleared your throat and stood in the middle of the room.

“Harry?” He hummed in response, “I- I just wanted to say thank you for what you did.”

“Y/N, I’s alrigh’ I promise.”

“I know but you didn’t have to stick up for me like that but you did it anyway.” He walked over to you and engulfed you in a hug.

“I wasn’t gonna let some drunk guy yell at yeh fo’ summat so trivial, I’d never let anyone yell at yeh if I can help it.” He pulled away from you and looked at you, “A’ve always got yeh back yeah? From now on, yeh got me.” You smiled and hugged him tightly once again.

“Okay.”

“Okay!” He pulled away from you and put his backpack on, “Now, how ‘bout we get a drink downstairs an’ I’ll take yeh t’th’ station, how’s ‘at sound?”

“Sounds good, Harry.”

MASTERLIST

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@abouttimefortea  @minervaem @barnes-heaven @buckyywiththegoodhair  @heartmade-writingbucky @hellomissmabel @justanotherbuckydevotee @alphaabucky @naenae87 @sunnyfortomorrow @aya-fay @terralingua-ua@topthis808 @savebxrnes @mizzzpink @janellexox0spiderman @lara-ludbey @bread-poet-society @jjlevin @marvel-fanfiction @zoejohnson8 @frickin-bats @iamwarrenspeace @kenmen02 @captianwintersoldier  @bucky-bear-barnes @capsheadquaters @duncedgoofball @amisha25 @miniwroetofreezymd @honey-bee-holly @unstoppableminx @lancefvcker @stranger-stark-montgomery @avxgers @odinhson @marvelouslyme96 @rraise-a-glass-to-freedom @chonisberonica

[heirxann]

✿ + REINERIN

Another Ship Meme // VERY SELECTIVELY Accepting // @konigreich

Who is more excited for halloween?

It’s still Erin. October is 100% her month. She’s in her element all month long, preparing for her party, preparing for Samhain, preparing to celebrate her Celtic Roots. Like, literally, come October 1st she’s shifted completely into Halloween Mode. And no, Reiner cannot stop her. In fact, she’s dragging Reiner down with her. Welcome to October, Motherfucker, start carving Turnips with her.

Who gives the best gifts?

I MEAN. GIVEN REINER TRIED TO GIVE ERIN HIS WHOLE ASS CREDIT CARD AS A GIFT? Yeah. Erin is better at giving gifts. And yes, she’s still gonna have a whole panic attack over that too. Like wow Reiner… You’re trying to kill her with this kind of commitment. ( Let’s all be grateful she doesn’t ghost him. )

Who sings along to the radio the loudest?

8) I’ve been thinking about this and lbr… It’s both of them. Especially when they’re acting Like That ( YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN ), they’re both in the car, screaming at the top of their lungs with the windows down, driving 90 mpg down the Autobahn together. 

Who actually finishes a book they’ve started?

They’re literate? Lmao, but for real I think it’s both of them when they actually have time. Erin is an avid reader after all. It might take them both a hot minute to complete a novel I’m sure, but give them time and they’ll finish it. ( You know they bullied one another into finishing 50 Sh.ades right? Like they did that. )

Who falls asleep during a movie?

Boooooth of them. Sometimes, you just don’t have the energy to watch a movie. Especially when you both have jobs and you’re always busy. So, sometimes, you pop in a bad movie, curl up next to each other, and doze off. The only thing that wakes them up is usually one of the cats or because they want to adjust into a more comfortable position.

Who plans a surprise getaway vacation?

REINER. He has the money after all. Also he’s probably better at planning this stuff than Erin is, considering she never really goes anywhere. So, Reiner has free range to plan whatever so long as Erin has time to actually get time off to go with him. Sure, if he asks for her input she’ll do research and suggest something, but otherwise… This is Reiner’s world and Erin is just living in it.

Who comes home with useless decorative knick knacks for the house every single day?

…….Reiner, I’m so sorry. But if she’s in Germany, she’s gonna be buying a bunch of useless knick knacks any chance she gets. But also, we all know Reiner does the same when he’s in Ireland (mostly as gifts for his family, but it still counts.) But basically, neither of them are free of sin.

Who takes more pictures?

Eriiiiiin does. She takes pictures of everything she can. Admittedly, at this point, she should buy a camera with how many pictures she takes. ( Scrapbook when? ) Though, it’s interesting how many pictures in her phone are just of Reiner actually. 

Who likes baths? Who likes showers?

I feeeeel like they’re both shower people? Who has the time for a bath? Besides, you can’t fuck in a bathtub. I’m sure they’ve tried of course. Like they’ve really tried to have sex in a bath tub

Who keeps a weekly planner?

Erin has tried and failed to keep a weekly planner. She’s more of the kind of person to wing that shit while keeping a routine at best. If anything? Reiner is the one keeping a weekly planner. We all know he’s a control freak. Keeping a weekly planner probably helps him keep his life in check.

Who actually watches the discovery channel?

THEY! WILL! WATCH! SHARK WEEK! If only because? That’s the only interesting thing on the discovery channel. But if you want something more interesting? Erin probably convinces Reiner to watch Red Rock with her, as its her favorite show right now (that has sadly ended and she’s VERY upset about it.) In return, Erin watches 4 Blocks with him and, gotta say, she’s probably more invested than he is at this point.

Who brings up having kids first?

IM GONNA FUCKING DIE LAUGHING LMFAO. UNREALISTIC AND OOC. 

Who fixes things around the house when they break?

They take turns! Erin has been fixing shit by herself her whole life. She basically renovated her whole house at one point. She knows how to fix things. BUT, she’s more than happy to let Reiner fix something. Though I feeeel like Reiner is almost more inclined to call someone to fix stuff. To which Erin just? Nah. Let her do it. She’s a DIY girl.

Who leaves their dirty towels on the floor?

Erin does because she’s messy and I’m so sorry Reiner that you have to deal with this lmfao. Mostly because she does laundry and towels like twice a week so she just…leaves it on the floor so she can pick it up when it’s time. If it bothers Reiner at all, she will happily pick it up though. But it might take her a few times to realize she uh. She should be doing her part more. :’)

Who makes the coffee in the morning?

It really just depends on who gets up first. Though, Erin doesn’t normally drink coffee (unless there’s alcohol in it.) But um? She WILL drink it if Reiner makes it for her. And she happens to drink every last drop of it. She says that it tastes better when he’s the one making it. (:

Who gets jealous over very petty things?

8) Hi. Meet Erin. Erin has never been known to get jealous until Reiner because she reaaaaally likes him. She absolutely hides it from him too because she doesn’t want her feelings of jealousy to ruin what they have. But also, she just happens to feel as if she’s never good enough for him. He could have anyone. Why would he pick her? ON THE FLIP SIDE, I’m sure sometimes Reiner does feel jealous for the same reasons as Erin does, but… Erin doesn’t… Indulge in people flirting with her once she’s with him. It’s extremely clear she only has eyes for Reiner.

Who exercises more?

Probably Reiner if anything. Erin tries, but she’s so busy and stressed half the time she just. Doesn’t have the time to genuinely work out like she should. If nothing else, they go jogging together, but that’s all Erin has time for at the moment.

Who starts listening to Christmas music in October?

I doubt either of them do, but truth be told if anyone even ATTEMPTS to put on Christmas music while Erin is in Halloween mode, she will absolutely go feral.

Who actually reads the newspaper?

…Who? Reads? A News Paper? They have phones.