#At least 18 of which were spent wearing said hat

[confusedgeckotree]

Ever just wear a cowboy hat for over 12 hours and take it off and get phantom cowboy hat sensations like it's supposed to be there I keep half feeling it there Where's my fucking hat help its supposed to be on my head

[alltooreid]

Invisible String

Although Spencer Reid and the Reader don’t find themselves in a romance with each other until well into their adulthood, their relationship has been decades in the making. Almost as if something as been pulling them together all these years. 

A/N: sorry for such a long wait but i’ve been struggling a lot mentally as of late. i hope you guys enjoy this one shot!! As always requests are open and heavily encouraged!! And of course this is inspired by the taylor swift song of the same name :)) Also keep in mind although the following scenes are heavily inspired by some scenes in Criminal Minds, elements of them have been slightly altered to fit in Y/N as a character.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute strangers to lovers fluff fic!

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: typical criminal minds case discussion, mentions of child trafficking when discussing this case, but no real detail. slight spoilers for season eight (beginning maeve stuff) and tiny spoilers for season fifteen (briefly mentions max but nothing really important to the plot at all)

“Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?”

You had met Spencer Reid 3 times before you had really met him.  

It was almost silly to think about it now. Now that you and Spencer have been dating for 3 years, it was strange to believe there were so many chances for you two to meet years earlier.

When you were sixteen years old, you got your first part time job. You worked at a self-serve frozen yogurt shop called Iced Dreams. You hated it so much. Your manager was a total creep, your older coworkers were rude and condescending to you, since you were one of the youngest people working there, but most of all you hated the uniforms.

Consisting of a very stupid looking hat, bright pink with randomly embrodiered teal patterns, an outdated bright teal shirt, it had been given to you from a dirty bin in the back, and judging by the sewn in shoulder pads, it had to be at least a couple decades old.

So one day, you didn’t wear the hat.

It wasn’t entirely purposeful. You couldn’t find it, you searched your room, you searched your car, so eventually you had to leave without it to prevent being late. Still, as you clocked it and passed the box of extras in the office something made you decide to leave it alone.

You were about 8 minutes into your shift when your manager approached you. “Y/N? Where’s your hat sweetheart?” You hated this man so much. You had gone to your parents time and time again, recounting his creepy behavior towards you and the other teenage girls who you worked with, but they refused to let you quit.

When you had started working there, he used to enforce this ridiculous rule that all the female workers had to wear skirts as part of their uniform, but you had gathered all the sixteen and seventeen year olds who worked there and all threatened to quit if he didn’t change the policy. So you were no stranger to breaking and defying the rules.  

“Yeah I couldn’t find it, sorry.” you shrugged.

He chuckled and reached his hat out to touch your face. You jerked back, you almost wanted to refuse to wear one of the stupid extra hats just so that you could get fired.

“Well, Y/N its policy sweetie. No matter how special you are to me you still need to wear the hat. There’s extras in the office.”

“No way I’m wearing one of those. I bet they have like lice or something.”

He pursed his lips and sighed “Well I suppose that beautiful hair is just too pretty to wear a used hat huh. . . What do you suggest? If you’re working you have to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well you could let me go home.”

He paused, “Why don’t you go sit in the office, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

So you did, for about 10 minutes you sat in the office, surrounded by frozen yogurt flavor marking posters and boxes of old uniforms, and each passing minute you feared for the worst. Maybe you were actually getting fired? You really didn’t want to go that far, because, as much as you hated it, you really needed this job.

When your manager finally came to talk to you he held a small salted caramel frozen yogurt, your personal favorite flavor, and a twenty dollar bill. He handed them both to you.

“You seem so stressed Y/N, why don’t you take the day and go get lunch. My treat,” he said, smiling that weird twisted smile that always made your full body shiver.

However you were broke as hell, and no teenager in their right mind would ever pass up free food, so you took it, grabbed your keys and started to leave

Yet as soon as you walked out the back door you dropped your frozen yogurt, cup fully upside down, onto the pavement. You cursed, you hadn’t even taken a bite of it yet, and it looked like he had put coconut flakes on it, and you loved coconut. Still, you had your twenty bucks, and that was a pretty sweet pay out considering you were only clocked in for about 20 minutes.

So you got Chinese food, and spent what was supposed to be your shift in the shopping mall across town, completely and blissfully unaware of the fact the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was dragging your manager away in handcuffs.

➽───────────────❥

Young Spencer Reid had only joined the FBI about a month ago. Despite being a genius, and providing crucial information to the solving of cases, he was aware of the most obvious. He was only twenty two years old, and he was scrawny as hell.

He felt this intense need to prove himself, especially to make Gideon proud.

So when they got a case about a the kidnapping and sex trafficking of teenage girls, he saw it as something he could really involve himself in. Based on the profile, it wasn’t going to be a large, strong, confident unsub who Morgan needed to tackle. This man would be ugly sure, but he would be a manipulative mastermind. Reid could work with that, he could prove himself.

He surprised everyone with his sheer work ethic and determination to find this man, and through consistently revising and delivering the profile soon enough they got a hit. A young woman in her early twenties called the tipline and reported her own manager. Insisting he fit the profile perfectly, and described how strangely he treated the minors who worked there, and how he almost exclusively hired young girls, treated them great and then switched as soon as they became legal.

So Garcia did her magically digging, and soon enough the FBI was tearing up a frozen yogurt shop, looking for any evidence of pedophilia. Garcia was even brought along, as she was pivotal to discovering any secret files in his computer.

At first, all they could find were strange compilation videos and under employees skirts. Spencer, and the rest of the team, were struggling to connect how he could get so many videos from an angle like this without anyone noticing or reporting him, until Gideon uncovered an old dusty pair of shoes, in which the right one held a small camera at the toe.

Although this was absolutely disgusting, it wasn’t enough to prove he was running the ring or kidnapping the girls, so Garcia kept digging. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to make himself useful by checking out the back of the store.

That’s where he found your clock-out receipt.

“Hey guys, we might want to take a look at this,” he shouted out.

Morgan grabbed the paper from his hand, “Ok, I don’t get it kid, it’s trash.”

Spencer pointed to the details on the slip, “Yeah but it says here she clocked out 18 minutes ago after only working for 23 minutes and 46 seconds. If this guy is our unsub, this girl could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe she’s still here, has anyone checked out the parking lot yet?”

Spencer shook his head, and followed Morgan out the back door. There they discovered some almost completely melted salted caramel frozen yogurt.

Morgan bent down to investigate, “Yeah, we gotta get this to the lab, but I can tell you right now that there’s clearly more than just coconut topping this yogurt. It also means we have another victim.”

Spencer crouched down as well, “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean kid? We’re missing a teenage girl and we’ve already found illegal evidence on this guy's computer. She’s in trouble.”

“Well judging the shape and inscription of these pills it appears to be some pretty strong rohypnol, almost certainly prescription grade. And ingesting it like this means she probably would have begun to feel its effects fairly early, I would predict 15 minutes. She clocked out 18 minutes ago, so even if she left exactly at that time she would have certainly crashed her car on the way home. The nearest residence is 8 minutes away from here, we’re in a complete shopping district. There’s only two cars out here and neither have a passed out driver, so I would bet she didn’t eat any of it. Also, the only spoon out here is still wrapped in plastic, “ Spencer analyzed.

Morgan sighed, “Well what do we even do then?”

Before Spencer could answer Hotch opened the back door. “We got him.”

Spencer turned to Morgan, “I’m sure her phone number is somewhere inside, I say we call her and make sure she’s ok. She probably doesn’t even know this is happening right now.”

So he did find your phone number, and although he initially pushed the phone to Morgan, he just chuckled and pushed it back.

“No way pretty boy. You’re the know-it-all with all that profiling out there, you can call her,” and before he could protest Morgan left, so Spencer was left to call you.

And strangely, for it being the first time he would ever interact with the love of his life, he thought nothing of it.

And that was the first time you had met Spencer Reid.

➽───────────────❥

The second time was years and years later, when you were waitressing night shifts to make extra money. You had never forgotten meeting Spencer Reid the first time, but this was the first time you would ever see his face.

You were slightly concerned when you got a call from a man, whose name you had now long forgotten, claiming he worked for the FBI. Although you weren’t incredibly surprised to hear your manager committed such heinous crimes against children, you were taken aback by how close you had come to becoming one of his victims.

But that was 9 years ago. In your college days it became a fun story you told at frat parties, but you were 25 now. Sometimes you would think about the incident when you couldn’t sleep, and if you were feeling feisty you would use it as an icebreaker or a “two truths, one lie” statement, but otherwise you didn’t really think about it.

You had plenty of other things to worry about, in fact, that’s exactly why you worked so much. It was so much easier to forget when you were constantly preoccupied with complaining customers and terribly awkward blind dates.

You had just sat this man, incredibly handsome, however it was clear he was on some kind of date. His reservation was for two, and he spent way too much time adjusting his clothes and table setting for him to not be trying to impress someone special. He also brought a gift, which judging by the packaging and shape, seemed to be some kind of wrapped book.

Even though he was 15 minutes early for his own reservation, he still looked really nervous, almost like he already believed she might not show up. You couldn’t help yourself, you had to go talk to him.

“Anyone ever tell you you should model?” you started with.

He looked up “Excuse me?”

“Sorry for being so bold, you just look so familiar,” he weirdly sounded very familiar as well, but you didn’t tell him that. “Are you sure you haven’t modeled? You have excellent bone structure. I bet you could.”

He laughed to himself, “yeah I’m sure.”

“Well your date is very lucky either way. I wish I had a boyfriend as handsome as you. Actually I wish I had a boyfriend period, but that’s a whole other story.”

He chuckled, and although you knew in your heart that you shouldn’t be flirting with him considering he was 15 minutes away from being actively on a date talking to him made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “What happened with your boyfriend? Do I even dare ask?”

“Well I kind of always knew he wasn’t super interested in me, but I really liked him, so I did my best to ignore his wandering eyes,” you sighed. “That didn’t stop him from leaving me for his coworker though.”

“That’s terrible.”

You smirked, “That’s not even the worst part, he broke up with me over a 27 second phone call. He didn’t even let me respond, he just kind of hung up.”

“I’m sorry, no one deserves that. Especially not you. I’ve only been talking to you for a couple minutes and I can tell that.”

“Oh really? What makes you so sure?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.”

You smiled, “Well I should probably stop flirting with you now, considering your date hasn’t even started yet. And don’t worry, she’ll show, you’re so handsome she’d be stupid not to.”

He looked confused. “You were flirting with me?”

You laughed, “I thought you were good at reading people?”

He smiled back at you, and it made your heart soar, this silly, pure goofy smile that made you want to replace his date and have dinner with him right then and there.

You walked back to your hostess stand. A couple minutes later you noticed the handsome stranger on the phone. You thought nothing of it until later when a woman came in, clearly nervous, holding a gift bag.

“Can you give this to Spencer Reid for me please?” You recognized the name, the man you were just speaking with had filed his reservation under it.

“Um, yeah sure, aren’t you going to go in? He’s at that table over the-” but before you could finish your sentence the woman was gone. Your heart sank, poor Spencer, how could someone drop their date off a gift but stand them up anyway? That’s just cold.

When you get up to bring the gift to him, he’s already heading out of the restaurant himself.

“Sir? Spencer? Dr. Reid?” he turned his head. “A lady came in and dropped this off for you.”

His face dropped, it almost looked like he was about to cry. “Thank you,” he said as he looked up at you before leaving.

He ran out the door, both gifts in hand and whipped his head around a few times before sighing and speeding off in one direction. Even before you learned what happened after that and leading up to it, you felt terrible for the handsome stranger.

How could you not for someone so clearly distressed? Someone so clearly in love?

➽───────────────❥

7 years and a divorce later you were spending your Saturday in a park, strangely contemplating love itself. Although you barely remember that night all those years ago when you spoke to Spencer, he did. Vividly. In fact, on this Saturday you both were in a public park, contemplating your many failed attempts at true love.

It was your first wedding anniversary without your husband. Although you had only been married for two years, you still were having a hard time navigating life without him. 

You started to wonder if you would ever find the true love you had been wishing for since your youth. Was 32 too late? Had you lived out all of your opportunities?

When you were little your mother had told you that all soulmates were attached at the left ring fingers, by small, incredibly thin strands of gold string, invisible to the naked eye. She insisted that these strings were constantly trying to pull you and your soulmate together, and that when life was ready for you two to meet, you would. 

Until then, you would have small, mindless interactions. Things you wouldn’t think about, maybe even things that weren’t interactions at all. You would get the same commercial jingle stuck in your head. You would both get an intense craving for the same food. You’d have the same dream. 

As a kid you were obsessed with this idea, you thought it was so romantic, and you fully believed everything your mom told you about it. You always asked her for more stories, and at bedtime you refused to sleep unless she would tell you more.

But now you were sure soulmates, true love even, didn’t exist. The invisible pretty gold strings your mother weaved fantastic stories with were completely fabricated. If they weren’t, you would have seen the clues by now.

Right?

➽───────────────❥

Spencer Reid was given an assignment from his therapist. He had to spend his Saturday off trying to interact with a stranger. Making friends with someone other than his colleagues may seem like a simple task for some, but it was something the young genius had almost no experience with.

He understood that it was probably for the best. He wasn’t exactly great with relationships of any kind, but especially not romantic ones. It didn’t take a genius to know that a couple of flirtations, a dead girlfriend he had only seen once, and a long time unrequited (or at least he thought unrequited) infatuation with his best friend and godsons’ mother was not a very great track record.

He, just like you, was also beginning to believe that he was hopeless when it came to love. That 38 was too old, that his time to meet someone and have the children he dreamed of had long passed.

But right as he was about to call JJ, to see if she would invite him in on the case Garcia had started to work on, he saw you.

Unlike you, he remembered your face and your interaction vividly. That almost date with Maeve was one of the biggest defining moments of his life, and what are the chances that the waitress from that very night was now less than 30 feet away from him, reading under the green leaves of a tree.

He wasn’t going to say anything, until he saw the book you were reading.

The Narrative of John Smith.

It must have been a sign, for what he wasn’t exactly sure yet, but it just had to mean something. The universe had to be reaching out to him, he had experienced crazier things.

And just as he was about to walk over to you, to close the gap between the gold strings tied around your ring fingers, a child interrupted his train of thought.

“That’s a strange haircut.”

➽───────────────❥

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid were finally reuniting after many years. They barely got to see each other these days, but even though he was teaching and working at the BAU, Spencer still was willing to clear his schedule to second Derek suggested they meet up.

Morgan was excited as well, both to see his friend and to hopefully help him get a date. Sure, he had liked what he had heard about Max, but he wasn’t exactly surprised it had only lasted a couple months between her and Spencer. They just seemed too different.

Plus, now he got the chance to play wingman again, and he was ecstatic about that. Spencer not so much.

“I don’t know Morgan, it’s only been a couple months since we broke up. Wouldn’t it be too early to start talking to other people?”

“Pretty boy, you and I both know that the rate in which you’ve had relationships is not even close to the average. You need to balance that out somehow.”

Spencer sighed, he knew Derek was right, but he still felt strange.

“Morgan, have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”

“No, but I’m sure I’m about to hear all about it.”

“It’s an East Asian philosophy, based on the discovery that the ulnar artery connects the heart with the pinky finger, actually that’s where the belief in pinky promises come from. The reason it’s integrated in so many different cultures is that-”

“Kid, you’re losing me here,” Morgan interrupted. “Finish your thing about the string.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s the idea that human relations are predestined by a red string that the gods tie to the pinky fingers of those who find each other in life. Legend has it that the two people connected by this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place or circumstances. The red string might get tangled, contracted or stretched, as surely often happens, but it can never break. Essentially, the idea is that although we might not realize it, our lives move in a pre-ordained direction, guided by invisible strings that are woven into the fabric of the Universe itself. And all the while, the red thread connecting us to our distant soulmates is getting shorter.”

“Well it’s an interesting theory kid, but it’s a lot to think about. I mean, we’re in a bar, let loose a little bit. Not every interaction has to be about getting closer to your soulmate. And sure, maybe you’ll meet them one day, maybe even soon. But you’re here now, and just because your one true love may not be, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to be here.”

Spencer sighed, “You’re right. I don’t even know if I believe in that anyway, maybe I’m just looking for something to explain this all.

Derek patted his friend on the shoulder, “okay pretty ricky, this is how it’s about to go down. I’m going to buy you two drinks. You’re going to take both of them, and go find someone, anyone here to go talk to.”

“Ok, I think I can do that. Who?”

Derek looked around, trying to find who he believed would be the best match for his friend. “How about her?” he asked, pointing at you.

Spencer couldn’t believe it when he looked. There you were, the girl, the one he had met three times before, even if he could only remember two. The woman he knew was some sort of universe sent sign that Saturday he saw you underneath the greenery. The girl he was so close to talking to before he was interrupted by Max’s nephew. The woman who (and he obviously did not know this at the time) he would marry 3 years later. The one who would carefully knit the baby blankets for all of their friends and exes. The one who he would adopt 3 children with. The woman who, he was now sure, was at the other end of his invisible string. The girl he needed to talk to right now.

“Is it just me,” Morgan said, “Or does she look kind of familiar?”

“Yes,” Spencer responded, “yes she does.” He got up quickly and started making strides towards you.

“Wait!” Morgan called, “You forgot your drinks!”

“I don’t need them!” he shouted back. When he sat down next to you, you smiled. It made his heart soar, you had this silly, pure goofy smile that made him want to ask you out right then and there.

Instead he settled on the only conversation starter he could think of.

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string story?”

And you couldn’t help but laugh.

“A string that pulled me Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

[extremelyblackandwhite]

illicit affairs

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, age gap

a/n: i love perfumes which smell of daisies so i made the reader use something like that. i do imagine her going for a very much female appearance and aura despite her personality and i can see lee fancying that sort of fragile femininity look paired with her independency. this song is based of illicit affairs from taylor swift but i was also listening to all too well at some points so i think some of that passed onto the writing. hope you enjoy xx

> DRESS

Leave the perfume on the self that you picked up just for him so you leave no trace behind like you don’t even exist. Take the words for what they are a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times ... And you wanna scream don’t call me ��kid”, don’t call me “baby”, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times ...

The snow settled onto the ground, a view she could see from her white window. Sprawled against her window pane, the blue soft fabric of her dress cascaded down her body as she watched the snow fall and become one with the mass of white covering the once green grass of her home. Her feet dangled in anticipation, hair cascading into hairdresser set curls, held away from her face with a pearl barrette. Her fingers dangled across her collarbones, feeling the cold matching pearls which unlike her barrette clip, had been offered to her by Lee on thanksgiving. “A pretty girl like you deserves her own pearls” his voice echoed in her mind whenever her feeling felt the smooth irregular circle shapes of the pearls laying against her collarbones. There was nothing more than she wanted than to wear those pearls to the police winter ball, to show up wearing something he had bought for her with what money he gathered from his fickle Captain position, but she couldn’t. Everyone knew what she had, what jewellery she had, it was all valued at the insurance centre downtown and the pearl necklace definitely wasn’t. Her own pearls rested inside her ivory jewellery box along with the ribbon she was wearing around her waist when she first kissed him, and the comb that held her hair in place whenever she met him during windy nights. 

Her grandmother had left before her, leaving with the grocery shop owner as her date for the ball but she had stayed behind. She had told her she’d rather go alone, blaming her loneliness on the fact all the boys her age were either engaged thus going with their wives and the single ones not wanting to do with her. Of course that was further from the truth and as she watched the snow fall, she imagined Lee’s cruiser driving through the snow, stopping in front of her home and knocking on her door to take her. But those were nothing but impossible scenarios created from the deepest part of her psyche. Looking over her shoulder, the clock on her bedside table shone 9PM into bold red letters. She should get going before her grandmother got worried. Her eyes lingered across her beauty parlour to the silver platter with her perfume, the one she’d picked just for him after hearing how much he loved the smell of daisies. She had to leave it, she couldn’t put any perfume on, she couldn’t take her pearls, she doesn’t exist. At least, she as Lee’s lover does not exist for all that everyone could know and nothing hurt more than the sound of her pearls returning to her ivory box. It was were they belonged, away from everyone, hidden, a mysterious sin secret. 

With her white fur wrapped around her arms, she entered her glossy yet dull red car, pulling the hood up despite the weather. She wanted to feel the cold, she wanted that numbness to hide what she had been feeling for the last months. It was all so exhilarating when it began; the summer walks, laying in the middle of the forest in an old towel as he feed her ripe strawberries, escaping from her grandmother’s house at night and meeting him up under the apple tree in light dresses. However, at time wind down, she started to crave the rest of a relationship, the holding of hands. Instead what she got was clandestine meetings in parking lots, behind the bars or in the middle of the forest when no one could see them. She constantly told herself it was going to eventually be her turn, he was gonna leave Jane for her. Yet, she seemed to constantly fall on the same error every mistress before her did, the mistake of forgetting her place. Stopping in front of the old town hall where the ball was being held, she could see the soft lights, hear the laughter and it made her sick. She didn’t want to go in, she didn’t want to see those happy couples but she had too. She had to put up a show, be the little pedestal trouble starter woman she was expected to be and so she would. 

Stepping into the hall, her eyes immediately found Lee in the corner speaking with the Sheriff, arm draped over Jane’s shoulder while the other hand held a clear cup probably with his favourite drink. Her heart sunk to the same place it always did as she got lost in the dance floor. She knew everyone in this town hall, from the first boy she ever kissed Jonah and his third wife Elizabeth to Billy whom had been prom king with her. There was nothing new anymore and what once felt new and true was now anchoring her inside a fishbowl of images of her own mistakes and unfulfilled life needs. 

      - Hey, Y/N. - Billy called out for her attention. She held onto the fur wrapped around her for comfort as she prepared her facade of a happy girl at a happy party. - Your grandma told me you ain’t gotta a partner for tonight. Could’ve told me, I would’ve taken you. 

      - It’s ok, ain’t like I need a man. - she replied, almost angrily although he deserved no anger from her. - What’s the stage for? We’re getting a band tonight?

      - No, the new sheriff candidates announcing themselves tonight. Prepare for the blood bath. 

      - Sounds interesting. - she spoke out, her voice getting mumbled out as the mic’s sound hurt her and everyone else’s ear. The police chief stood there in his best attire, holding a small piece of papers, his fat thumbs hitting the mic to gather everyone’s attention. He already had their attention merely by wearing a cowboy’s hat with a formal suit. 

       - Now folks, we all now how much we gonna miss our good old Sheriff but it’s time to elect a new one. - his southern accent was pronounced, too pronounced, cartoonish even. Y/N remembered laughing as a child when she first heard him speak only to immediately shut up when her grandmother looked her way with a look which left room for no questions. She herself had barely developed an accent, her grandmother still very keen on instilling in her the education she herself had gotten. However, the longer she spent with Lee, the more it would sometimes slip; one or two words, nothing major. - Of course, Leroy is running again.

     - I don’t know why he tries. - Y/N whispered to Billy, concealed laughing smile behind her hand. 

     - You gotta admit it’s a good thing to imagine. Damned Leroy and his prostitutes running the town? We’d be forgotten by God.

     - We’re already forgotten by God. We were banished from the garden of Eden, don’t you remember? - she teased, always enjoying to toy around with the religion Knockemstiff was so hang up on. - We’re probably direct descendants. 

     - You ought to keep that mouth shut if you don’t wanna get in trouble. - he warned yet it went through deaf ears. Y/N liked stirring it, specially when it came to things which were so analytically flawed. 

The regular list of candidates continued to go from officers to common folk who all believed they could make the town better. At least that was all they said they wanted to get some votes but at the end of the day, they just wanted to control the town with an iron fist. Do what they wanted without anyone question it. She couldn’t blame it, humans are hardwired to go crazy for power and let it consume them so she just let it pass. She knew all the candidates, they were always the same. Leroy, Matthew, Edwards ... all the common ones, she even wondered why they kept announcing it. Those three competing for the sheriff position was as certain as the sun coming up each morning. 

      - The last candidate is our cap’tain Bodecker. - her head snapped to the stage as every sound seemed to dim until she was surrounded by pure silence. All she could hear was the buzz from her ears as she watched him climb up the stairs to the stage, shaking the chief’s hands. 

Everything seemed to be stuck in slow motion yet her mind was running faster than a shot bullet. The clapping was slow, everything was silent yet she could see their hands slowly clap and their lips moving in whispers. Her eyes roamed the crowd finding Jane right in front of the stage, looking up at him with adoration at the possible place she could possible hold; the sheriff’s wife. The slow motion ended with a loud crash and suddenly everything seemed just too fast. She ignored Billy’s pleas for her attention and moved straight to the small plastic tables covered in burgundy towels to make it look fancier where all the drinks and food were being held. One of her only friends from high school Mary was the one in charge, happily serving food and drinks to anyone who asked.

     - Hi Y/N. - she always looked like the perfect housewife and that was always what she wanted to be. Beautiful, bountiful blonde hair with a few flowers matching her pink dress. Despite it all, she was always nice to her even with their different life goals. 

     - Hey Mary. How’s Paul? I heard from rumours you two had quite a nice honeymoon. St.Louis, right? 

     - Yes. He booked us a nice honeymoon suite, it had flowers and those heart shaped beds and chocolates. It was real nice, I’m hoping to be pregnant soon. What about you? Your grandmother said you came alone. You could’ve told me, my brother would’ve taken you.

    - That’s alright, Mary. I don’t intend to stay for long ... Uhm, can I have a drink?

    - Of course. Sidecar, as per usual? 

    - I think I’ll just have a double cognac, please. Or maybe some gin ... whatever can make me dizzy the fastest.

    - Everything, okay?

    - Just need to forget some stuff, it’ll be okay. - she forced a smile. At least half that phrase was true. Mary served her up with her best gin and she returned to the dance floor, trying to blend with the rest of the attendees, however her baby blue dress was much too different from anything else in town. 

Y/N thought she’d be best outside where no one could see her and so she left, avoiding Billy who kept asking for her. She leaned against the old wood of the town hall, mascara running down her cheeks, and gin glass on the other one. She looked like the perfect warning tale of why you should not mess her married men. She knew better, she knew so much better but she still did it, like the idiotic little fool she seemed to be. Y/N sighed, the air condensing in the air as she drank from the glass.

     - Pull yourself together, Y/N. - she looked to see side, her grandmother standing outside with the look she used to give her when Y/N embarrassed her as a little girl. - What did you expect?

     - I’m just not having a good day, nana.

     - You’re hanging around with Captain Bodecker that’s what you’re doing.

     - What?

     - Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N. You’re just like your mother and I’ve raised your mother so I’d know. I saw you leave in his car last week. Do you want to defend yourself?

     - Is it even worth it? - she took a sip out of her drink. - What do you want me to say? 

     - I want you to pull yourself together and go inside. You better have this finished off before those elections start. I will not have my granddaughter be a home wrecker.

Y/N ignored it. There was nothing her grandmother could say that hurt more than what she was already feeling. She watched the snow fall from the cover of the banner covering the town hall, cold and icy yet somehow warmer than her. The drink didn’t last forever and although it was much stronger than what she was used to, she didn’t feel the slightest bit dizzy. It was if the universe was punishing her for her choices. She shook her head, leaving the glass onto one of the windows. She’d be better off at home and she’d already made her appearance. If someone asked where she was, she could’ve blamed it on their drunkness. Opening her little clutch, she started fishing for her keys through a sea of change, makeup and receipts. 

    - You better not be thinking of driving after you just drank. - she turned her head to see Lee with his hands on his waist, playfully smiling at her. His smile faded as he noticed the streaks of mascara from her eyes to her jaw. - Did that shithead Billy say something? 

     - No ... Lee, I wanna go home okay. - she sighed. - Can you just pretend you didn’t see me drink?

     - I was hoping we could spend the night together. Rent a hotel room outside town. A real nice place, with a pool and some room service. My treat of course.

     - I ... We can’t, Lee. Your wife is inside as she’s gonna notice you’re not there and you’re not home. 

     - She’s going home early. Jane’s been taking a few sleeping pills. She’s down for the night, won’t even notice. - he took a few steps closer to her, knowing everyone was too drunk to even remember. - I was waiting for you to come greet me, congratulate me. I can’t believe my girl wanted to leave before showing me how pretty she looked. 

     - You didn’t tell me you were running for Sheriff. - he cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. - You said it was a silly position.

     - Yeah but ... it’s a Sheriff. I could become Mayor, ya know. The old sheriff thinks I’d be good for it. - he scratched the back of his neck, something he always did whenever he was nervous or was confronted by something he did not expect. Y/N had learned to read him and knew him better than her own favourite books. - C’mon, kid. It’s a night worth celebrating, don’t you think?

     - Don’t call me kid. - she shot her head his way, his word hitting a particular hurt spot which she didn’t realise she had. 

     - Hey, I’m not trying to mock ya. - he rose his hands. - What’s wrong, huh baby? Hm? Tell me sugar, I hate it when you’re upset. Besides, if it was that Billy kid I’ve been wanting to give him a good beating.

    - Don’t call me baby, either. - she sighed, throwing her purse inside the car, before turning to him. - Billy didn’t do anything I’m just ... tired.

    - I’ll drive you home, then.

    - I don’t wanna go home either. - she pushed her hair from her forehead, looking at the ground. The snow engulfed her feet and her shoes, yet it might as well have engulfed her entire being. Lee noticed her lip trembling and how her free hand was trying to stop tears from falling down. He looked behind him, the town hall door shut, before taking his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders, and opening the car door for her. 

 Y/N daren’t look him in the eye, instead sitting in the passenger seat as he pushed the hood of her car up. After all, most people did not enjoy driving in the snow with the hood up. She didn’t know where he was taking her and for all it mattered she didn’t want to know. If he was driving her to her killing location, it sounded much better than having to work out through the bubbling feelings in her tummy. Y/N didn’t even noticed how much she was crying until the tears started streaming so fast they were falling onto the palms of her hands like diamond daggers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the road ahead through the blurry orbs of her own eyes, trying to find some warmth through him. The drive seemed endless and her mind rushed in an even more endless way as she considered all her choices til now. She found it unbearable how not guilty she didn’t feel about it. She could still remember the feeling of the cold water against her body and his lips against hers, being tangled in his bed sheets while he drank a beer, his grunts as he thrusted into her inside his patrol car. She remembered every detail either it being lust or romantic but most importantly she remembered how he looked at her. It was almost as through rose coloured glasses, most of the times agreeing with her pessimist view of the town she was in. Lee looked down on her, watching her perfect hair break through the gelled curls she had set down. He never liked the polished look anyway, he loved to see her walk in her white dresses and freshly washed hair flowing with the wind. This woman sat next to him was gorgeous but he preferred his Y/N, he preferred the woman who would poke fun of casualty and rush into the woods with her nightgown. This woman next to him was pretty yes but she seemed tainted by a sadness he could see yet couldn’t help. He didn’t want his Y/N to be the slightest bit sad. She did not deserve it. She was too pure, too young to be consumed by the loneliness, darkness and sadness that came with being an adult. Yet again, he had to start learning the young woman she was wouldn’t stay young forever. He wanted to know how to help. he wanted to be the man who wakes up next to her on summer mornings and winter evenings but life is not how we plan it out to be.

She watched the snow fall from her window as “You are my sunshine” played on the background from her radio. Looking up to him, his eyes were glued to the road, the sign of leaving Knockemstiff way past them and the hotel on the horizon. She called it the Heartbreak hotel, with its red walls and luxurious nature. A more fancy place for those who wanted to give a better night to their mistresses but that was not why she called it the heartbreak hotel. It was due to the fact she ended up crying every time she or he left. While inside those walls, she could pretend they were Mr. and Mrs. Bodecker, young couple moved out of Knockemstiff on a romantic getaway yet she wasn’t Mrs. Bodecker, Jane was. She had seen who the future sheriff’s wife was and it was not and it would never be her. He stopped the car in the parking lot, looking at her who was lost in thought, leaned against his shoulder.

   - Come on, sugar. What is it? - Lee kissed the top of her head. - The heck happened in that Town Hall?

    - Just being silly, Lee. - she shook her head, faking a smile. - Just don’t like parties one bit.

    - I hate ‘em too, sugar. All show no action. Besides no party is a party without my baby. - he hooked his ring finger under her chin, softly pulling it up. She tried not to look at the moonlight illuminating the silver band around his finger, a symbol he belonged to someone else and she knew it. She had seen the wedding photo on his secretary, a much younger Lee with a much younger Jane with the facade of a happy marriage. Thinking about it always made her sick and ever since seeing that picture she couldn’t bring herself to do so. - Come on, let’s get you a bubble bath, yeah?

She followed him into the hotel almost in a zombie like state until the reception. The talk was a dance she had danced before, it was all the same. Lee would present money in cash so it wouldn’t show up on his credit card statement. He would sign in with a fake address but with his own name and no one would question it. After all, the staff wanted money, they didn’t care if it was an illicit affair or not. To be honest, she didn’t care much anymore.

     - Mrs. Bodecker? Mrs. Bodecker? - the receptionist called out to her but it didn’t even register until she was looking her into the eyes. Mrs. Bodecker, she was definitely not. - Would you like a complementary tea? You look cold.

     - No, it’s okay. - she smiled while Lee grabbed the keys. His hand wrapped itself around hers, leading her over to the elevator.

God, she wanted him. She really did, he thought to himself. It was an unbelievable feeling to have someone who loved him back, someone who always had encouraging words to tell him, someone who would stay after a fight. He thought and imagine what it would’ve been like if she was born earlier, god he would’ve courted her and would’ve married her the second they were out of high school. Sadly, the woman he loved was born 10 years after and he met her when he was married. He led her to the 13th hotel room and closed the door behind them.

     - Things are gonna be different when I’m sheriff. No more sneaking around, no one will dare  say a word. I can move to Brewer Heights, heck, I can buy two houses, one just for you and me.

    - Lee ...

    - Where are your pearls, sugar? You know I love to see you with them, makes you look so pretty.

    - You know I can’t wear them in public, Lee. I am not your ... - she shouldn’t say that, she should not let those words out. - They’re not insured under my name, people would comment about it.

     - You worry too much. - he pushed the fur that covered her arms down, placing a small kiss on her elbow. - My little over-thinker.

     - One of us has too, Captain Bodecker.

     - How about some champagne? - he pointed towards the champagne bottle in the ice bucket by the dresser before walking towards it, raising it so he could inspect the brand. He longed for the finest things in life, no longer wanting to be that middle to low class man he’d been forced to be. Being Sheriff, Mayor someday was going to be really something, it’d be his chance.

    - I’m not 21 yet, Captain.

    - Only a month til you are, kid. - he filled two long crystal flutes, handing it over to them. - By then I should stop calling you kid, huh?

    - You shouldn’t call me kid, now. - she took a sip of the golden liquid, hoping it would take away her jealousy. Lee hummed, leaned over to kiss the crock of her neck, climbing up to her jaw in a move that was sure to leave marks. It was okay for him to leave marks on her, she was unmarried, young but on him? Sometimes she wanted to, sometimes she wanted to mark his pale plump skin as a possession, one that screamed Jane might have the wedding ring but she had the man. Yet, she couldn’t. - You look so handsome tonight.

    - You’re my worse critic. - he smirked, placing his glass on the bedside table before pulling her chin towards him, placing a soft kiss on her plump, painted lips. - God, you can’t even imagine how fucking hard I got when you walked in.

    - Such gentle behaviour. - she teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of his face. He moaned, leaning in to kiss her again. - I wore it just for you. Blue. I knw you like it.

    - You’re always such a good girl for me. - he started to remove his jacket, pushing on her chest lightly so she laid against the luxurious bed.

The alcohol sure did a better job than her about making her forget what she was doing it. The alcohol and his kiss, his touch on her skin made her forget the clench in her heart when she saw Jane Bodecker clap once they said his name. It made her forget she couldn’t hear perfume around him unless he showered, it made her forget. Both of her moaned through the kiss, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that it was a sin. Maybe that’s why it taste so sweet, the sin, the thrill. None of them cared really and all he wanted to do now was hold her, touch her, look at her.

    - You are so beautiful. - he spoke, more to himself than to her specifically, leaning down on the bed as he spread her legs, taking his place in between them which was so familiar to him. Lee ran his knuckles through the middle of her folds, cold hands making her shiver. - Ev’ry darn day I wake up and I think, I got myself the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, the white paint of it engulfing her as his hands caressed her thighs. All she could feel were his cold hands massaging the skin of her thighs, spreading them apart and giving him full access to her. His lips attacked her core, always chapped which made her feel so good, it made her know it was him giving her that pleasure. She moaned out loud as he dwelled in like a starved man, her head relaxing against the pillow. There was never any mercy with him, he teased her like he owned her, focusing on her clit while licking her folds. He had her exactly where he wanted her - starving for him.

   - You’re gonna see. - he mumbled out while he relentlessly ate her out. - When I’m sheriff there will be no more hidin’. No one gonna dare say anythin’ about it.

   - Lee, please ... no foreplay. - she whined, begged even as he stopped his motions. His eyes curiously searched for hers, hands pulling his body up as he stood on top of her. - I just want to feel you.

   - Weren’t you feelin’ me, sugar?

   - You know what I mean, Lee. - she wrapped her hands around his neck, head cocked to the side. - I don’t want any foreplay today.

    - Oh sugar ... - he chuckled leaning down to kiss her collarbone. - You’re just a cock slut for me, aren’t ya? Can’t just wait for me to treat ya right ain’t it, baby?

     - Lee, please. - she whined, hands wavering over his police issued chunky belt. Lee smirked, holding her hand before she could do anything. Y/N pouted, head leaning against her shoulder. - C’mon.

   - But baby, you look so pretty when you’re begging. - he returned to kiss her neck, leaving marks which were sure to become hickeys tomorrow but she didn’t care. No one was going to see it. - I was expecting you to come congratulate me in the way you always do, maybe in the back of the town hall. Hoping someone would catch us so they’d see you’re my girl.

    -  Lee ... -  she whined as he kept kissing her neck and collarbones. - Please.

    - Tell me what you want, baby. You know I do everything you want. - he rose from her neck, toothy grin as he leaned down to kiss her plump, pink painted lips. - Tell me you want my big fat cock. I know you do, baby. Tell me how much you need it. 

  - Lee ... please, need you.

  - You have me, baby, tell me what you need. Tell me what you want. - his knuckles ran through the middle of her folds again. - You’re so wet, baby. Just tell me what you want, c’mon

  -  Lee ... please. - she looked at him with those wide eyes that could get someone to commit murder for her, as he pushed down his trousers. - I want you to fuck me with your ... big fat cock, Capitain. 

  - Oh, baby ... - he leaned his forehead against hers as he pushed his cock past her entrance, eyes shut tight  as he tried to keep himself sane at the mere feeling of her walls contracting against him. His lips found hers as he shed himself fully into her. Her hand searched for his, as Lee slowly rolled his hips against hers, basking in the mere high that was being inside of her. - You okay, baby? 

  - Yeah. ... fuck, move. - she whined as he removed himself from her and pushed back in, slowly starting to rock into her as he always did. The little tease. Her hand clenched his as he speed up his thrusts, lips returning to hers in a messy, moaned filled kiss. All she could hear was the sound of skin against skin and interrupted breathing. - Lee, fuck.

  - I know, baby. - he laughed, returning to kiss her the way he liked as her walls started to clench more forcefully against his member, milking him for all he was worth. His free hand grabbed her hip as he further sped up against her, bruising her skin as his breaths got more raggedy. He bite onto her neck as he felt his control over his own orgasm disappear. 

  - Lee, fuck! - she moaned, almost raising off the bed as her own orgasm washed over her. Her head fell against the pillow, sluggish as he continued to thrust into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. He chuckled mid grunt, holding her against him as he turned around in bed. 

  - You all fucked up, aren’t ya, sugar? - he kissed the top of her head. - You’re gonna see, sugar. Things are gonna be so much better.

  - Right ... - she cuddled against his chest. - Hm ... Lee can you drive me back home early on?

  - Early shift?

  - Yeah.

  - Okay, sugar.

The morning was a harsh breaker of dreamy hazes and just like that she was back to the place where she always was, in her home, surrounded by the scent of the perfume she had bought just for him. She sat on her dress, taking the necklace he had given her from the little mother of pearl seashell shaped box and holding them against her chest. She loved him, she really did. Some people had their downfalls and hers was painted onto her neck and held by her hands. He was her downfall. 

The sun was high up on the snowy midday in Knockemstiff and once again Lee had been resigned to desk duty after the Sheriff not taking it too lightly he decided to run without his permission. Normally he would’ve been upset but he knew, he knew he was close to winning and then he could throw away those stupid hotels and just get her a little house close to him. God, he couldn’t fucking wait.

    - Captain Bodecker, someone here for you. - his secretary knocked on his door. - Mary Gillies, sir. 

    - Mary Gillies? - he knew her to be a friend of Y/N’s, perhaps her only friend other than that punk Billy. - Send her in.

    - Good afternoon, captain. - she said as she walked into his office. - I’m so sorry to be bothering but Y/N ...

    - Is she alright? - he interrupted her.

    - Yes, well ...  - she rummaged through her bag to find a cushioned envelope with his name on it. - She told me to give you this.

   - What is it?

   - I don’t know, captain. I must get going, my husband is waiting for me.

   - Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gillies.

He waited for the woman to be out of his office and for the door to be shut for him to open the envelope. The minute he opened the envelope, pearls fell into his desk, the same pearls he had given Y/N followed by a small note in the dusty pink stationary that normally laid on her dresser. Turning it around, he saw the words he’d been dreading to read or hear ever since he met her. I’m sorry, Lee. He threw the letter on his desk before getting up from his desk as fast as he could, ignoring the calls from his colleagues as he got into his cruiser. Damned, Brewer Heights, why couldn’t it be closer?

He approached her home fast and closed the door as fastly as he ran up to the door. Her hag of a grandmother was possibly at church and he had learned where they kept the spare key; behind a violet pot. His heart was beating as fast as a deer on a hunt as he climbed up the stairs and found the once filled room was empty, with only a perfume bottle on her empty dresser. He observed the whole room as if he were in a nightmare, sitting on her bed as he clenched the pearls he had given her not so long ago, the smell of daisies in the air as some song played on the still turned on radio.

You never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying​ 

[antebunny]

family dinner

Modern AU Jin siblings vs. Jin Guangshan (crossposted on Ao3):

Jin Zixuan leans against the side of his yellow Audi and checks his Rolex Daytona watch. Behind his car are the massive white gates of the Jin mansion, a massive complex with no less than four houses, two gardens, one lotus pond, a garage for the rest of his car collection, and a private movie theater in the basement. Normally, he would open the gates and let himself through, but tonight, Jin Zixuan has no intention of going down the lonely, two-lane road to the main house alone.  

The time is 7:18. He has only twelve minutes left, and no one is here. Jin Zixuan shifts nervously in his Stuart Hughes suit (Diamond Edition) and represses the urge to check his watch again. Instead of checking it, he worries until his heart is thump-thumping in his chest and all he can feel is the bitter cold air on his bare fingers. 

He’s twenty-seven years old, with a two year old son, and he’s still nervous about the coming dinner. He would be less nervous if his mother was coming, but she hasn’t been back to the Jin family home since she divorced his father almost a decade ago–long enough to see Jin Zixuan through high school–and he was not about to ask. Instead, he’d asked the rest of his family.

He’s musing on the meaning of family and obligation when the first car pulls up. It’s a white Rolls-Royce, and it carries a single passenger: Jin Zixuan’s younger brother, Jin Guangyao. His half-brother wears a crisp dark cream-colored Brioni suit, and he adjusts the small osmanthus flower tucked into the pocket when he straightens. 

“No one else is here yet?” Jin Guangyao questions, like he can’t see it with his own eyes.

“Not yet,” Jin Zixuan says shortly.

His brother continues smiling despite his terse tone. Jin Guangyao has never been anything but friendly to Jin Zixuan since he came into his life several years ago, which is why Jin Zixuan is half-terrified of him. The other half of him wants to intervene everytime his father so much as looks in Jin Guangyao’s direction, and half of the time he does, so needless to say, they have a rather complicated relationship. 

“I’m sure they’ll be here,” Jin Guangyao offers, still smiling sweetly.

Jin Zixuan isn’t so sure. Realistically, there’s no reason for all of them to come just to support him. The only reason Jin Zixuan is going, beyond the convention of his father’s annual dinners, is because Jin Zixuan is in fact aware of his skills in life. As of the moment, Jin Zixuan is the sole inheritor of his father’s fortune. Despite the number of half-siblings that Jin Zixuan apparently has, or perhaps because of it, he is confident that he will always be the sole inheritor. That is, unless Jin Guangshan decides to withhold the inheritance to remind Jin Zixuan that he is the only way Jin Zixuan can provide for his family. So Jin Zixuan needs the inheritance, no matter what A-Li says.

Which is why he’s standing here, on his twenty-seventh birthday, trying not to look too nervous as his brother calmly locks his car door. 

“Thank you for coming, A-Yao,” Jin Zixuan finally says, forced but sincere. 

Realistically Jin Guangyao knows that he can expect better treatment from his half-brother than he can with Jin Guangshan as the CEO of Jin Industries, but naively Jin Zixuan still hopes that Jin Guangyao has some room for frivolous things like brotherly affection and genuine kindness. 

Jin Guangyao puts his keys in his pocket and walks around his car to the gate. He’s not a moment too soon: a silver car rolls in after Jin Guangyao’s Rolls-Royce, and parks just a little too close for comfort. 

The first out of the silver car is Qin Su, from the driver’s seat. The gold trim and white hem of her floor-length evening gown trails over the edge of the car as she exits, and as she stands up Jin Zixuan realizes that she really went all-out. She’s dressed in white and gold, complete with a pink peony flower, and her hair and face indicates that she spent at least two hours getting ready. From the way she walks up to him in her white high-heels, Jin Zixuan knows that she knows that she’s stunning. If she wasn’t his daughter, Jin Guangshan would probably make a comment about it. He might anyway. 

“The new style suits you, A-Su,” Jin Guangyao says politely.

“Thank you,” Qin Su says, her pretty eyes flashing. “It’s what my mother wore.”

She doesn’t specify when, but Jin Zixuan winces anyway. “I didn’t think you would come,” he says helplessly. 

“And miss a chance to ruin your father’s evening?” Qin Su retorts, and smiles beatifically. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The last sibling emerges from the copilot seat. “It’s your birthday celebration, isn’t it?” Mo Xuanyu points out. 

He’s wearing ripped jeans, a tank top, and heavy black eyeliner and eyeshadow. Jin Zixuan wisely does not comment. Mo Xuanyu pulls on a black puffer jacket as he speaks, which makes him the only one with adequate protection from the chilly February temperature. He’s also the youngest here; Qin Su picked him up from his university on the way here. 

“Technically,” Jin Zixuan says instead. 

Mo Xuanyu shrugs and jams his hands into his pockets. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Jin Zixuan checks his Rolex again, and the golden watch hands proclaim the time to be 7:24. “We’re still waiting on a few more people who said they’d show up.”

 “Who?” Mo Xuanyu asks curiously, and it’s at that moment that a flaming red and black sports car comes roaring down the road, and Mo Xuanyu’s face lights up. 

The door is kicked open, and Jin Zixuan’s brother-in-law flings himself out. Wei Wuxian emerges in a black Armani suit, now the tallest person in their smallest gathering, and grins. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Mo Xuanyu squeaks, and Jin Zixuan holds back a wince. His youngest brother has the most embarrassing idol crush on Wei Wuxian, which is only embarrassing because–

“Mn.” Out of nowhere, Jin Zixuan’s brother-in-law (-in-law?) places himself in front of Wei Wuxian, straightening his white suit coat like it’s even a millimeter out of place. He glares Mo Xuanyu down, and Jin Zixuan goes from feeling embarrassed for his brother to feeling sorry for him. 

“You brought him?” Jin Zixuan complains to Wei Wuxian before he can stop himself.

“Where I go, Lan Zhan goes,” Wei Wuxian retorts. They’re already holding hands. Jin Zixuan hates this. 

Wei Wuxian’s husband levels his icy glare on Jin Zixuan, and suddenly Jin Zixuan is imagining that glare leveled at his father when Jin Guangshan inevitably tries to get world-renown bioengineer Wei Wuxian to work for Jin Industries again. Perhaps bringing him along isn’t such a bad idea after all. 

“It’s lovely to see you,” Qin Su offers, and the glare is gone, just like that. 

“But not as lovely as you are tonight,” Wei Wuxian says smoothly, and the glare is back.

Jin Zixuan pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers and sighs. He’s so busy sighing that he almost misses the arrival of the last car, a violently purple Jaguar that for once is not racing around at nearly illegal speeds. 

“You’re late,” Jin Zixuan snaps, when the driver’s door opens. 

“I was helping my sister get ready, asshole,” Jiang Cheng snaps right back, slamming his door closed. He straightens the cuffs of his dark purple suit before opening the copilot door for said sister. 

Jiang Yanli ducks gracefully out of the car, and Jin Zixuan’s heart immediately goes gooey in his chest. He’s afraid that his face does, as well, because Wei Wuxian makes a disgusted face at him. 

She wears a layered dress of lavender and rose pink, and the skirts skim over the ground as she steps out of the car. In her arms, she carries a precious little bundle that Jin Zixuan loves with all his heart, and now he knows that his face has gone all gooey with emotions because his wife smiles at him, which really doesn’t help with the emotions. 

Jin Zixuan holds out his arms, and Jiang Yanli places their tiny baby bun in his arms. 

“I’ve finally got him sleeping,” Jiang Yanli says in a hushed voice, and for a moment there’s silence as everyone welcomes the newest, sleepiest, cutest little dumpling to their growing party. 

Jin Ling’s little face is puckered up even in his sleep like he’s thinking hard. Jin Zixuan’s small, sweet bao of a son is dressed in a matching pair of a white jacket and snowpants, complete with a white yarn hat that’s the size of his entire head. 

“It’s good to see you, A-Li,” Qin Su says finally, once the moment of silence has passed.

Jiang Yanli smiles. “You too, A-Su,” she says. “We should get the group back together one of these days.”

Jin Zixuan isn’t sure whether he’s terrified or pleased. Jiang Yanli’s friends from college are a force of nature, and given that they’ve gone on to become a rising neurosurgeon, an environmental scientist, an urban planner, and in Jiang Yanli’s case, a child psychiatrist, they’d be even more a force of nature now. 

“I wanna hold him,” Wei Wuxian says in a stage whisper.

Jin Zixuan directs his best glare at him, holds his sweet little dumpling closer, and prays that his wife won’t cave to Wei Wuxian’s puppy dog eyes. 

“I believe it’s time,” Jin Guangyao intervenes smoothly, swooping in before a fight can break out. 

Jin Zixuan shoots him a grateful look, even though he’s mostly sure that Jin Guangyao didn’t intervene just so that he wouldn’t have to turn his darling baby son over to his brother-in-law. 

“It is 7:30,” Qin Su agrees.

Mo Xuanyu cracks his fingers, grins wickedly, and then puts on a pair of black shades, just to match his black puffer jacket. “Let’s go ruin Dad’s night.”

“Can we not get him to call the cops on us?” Jin Zixuan asks, one step short of begging. 

“My dad is on speed dial in case anyone needs a ride,” Qin Su says, tucking her phone into her purse. 

Of course. The CEO of Qin Industries on speed dial. Though Jin Zixuan supposes that that move is fair, considering that Qin Cangye knows his daughter is going to Jin Guangshan’s house. 

“I think we have enough cars,” Jin Guangyao says.

“But let’s not burn the house down?” Jin Zixuan pleads. It’s true that he asked all of them to come, but please come, I don’t want to be alone with A-Li is not the same as please, I want to pay for damages. 

“No promises.” Wei Wuxian smirks. 

“Nothing that can be proven,” Jiang Cheng adds. Jin Zixuan belatedly remembers that he’d invited them because he knew they would defend A-Li if his father even looked at her funny. Which he might. God, Jin Zixuan hated his family.

“What else is family for?” Wei Wuxian retorts. 

Oh no. Jin Zixuan’s heart is going all gooey again, and this time it isn’t from the adorable sleepy bun in his arms. He furiously tries to force down a blush that heats his cheeks in the cold winter air. 

Jiang Yanli notices, because of course she does, and she steps closer to pat his arm. “He won’t burn the house down,” she says reassuringly. 

Jin Zixuan is privately still dubious, but he doesn’t argue. He turns to the grand white gates. Jin Guangyao stands on his left and half a head shorter, and Jiang Yanli stands to his right. His two other siblings and three in-laws gather behind him. 

Then, with his family dressed to the nines and ready for war, Jin Zixuan unlocks the white gates and sets forth to ruin his dad’s night. 

[tinyboxxtink]

"Doppelganger" *Part 25* !!Finale!!

Okay I know this took two days but remember when I said I was NOT going to make another chapter? Well I had to just fit multiple chapters into this last one. Because dammit it will STOP HERE.

Except for the epilogue.

So here it is, I hope the anticipation and the hype doesn't ruin it for you, I did my best!

Also thank you so much for coming on this ride with me, it's been the longest one yet! I'm going to miss Pinguino and Raffi, but they'll be fine.

Part 24

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

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

It was finally the night before your wedding day. The day you had been waiting for since you had first kissed Rafael, if you were being totally honest. You were staying at Chloe’s due to the whole traditional “not seeing each other” before the wedding; it was the first night you had spent away from Rafael since the whole “Nevada” debacle. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you could spend one night without him cuddling you like a toddler afraid to sleep in their own bed. But the more you drank during your “last girl’s night” the more the demons came out for you. Before you knew it you were hiding in your old bathroom dialing Rafael’s number.

“Baby aren’t you--” He started to ask you but you cut him off.

“Do you still want to marry me?”

“Ay dios,” You heard him chuckle. “Si, mi amor,”

“¿Estás seguro?” You asked worriedly.

“Yes carino,” He said very seriously. “I am very very sure,”

“...Okay,” You said in a small voice.

“Now go have fun and tell Chloe not to let you drink anymore, comprende?”

“Si,” You rolled your eyes. As you came out of the bathroom, you were greeted by Maria who was now in your former living room...for some reason.

“Hey babe, so Maria came by for--”

“I came by to ask you a favor, mija,” Maria cut Chloe off.

“Oh um--” You tried to act more sober around the only mother figure you’d really been around since forever. “Yeah sure! What’s up?”

“Well, I know we haven’t known each other that long, but Raffi is basically my son, so I consider you like a daughter,” She smiled sweetly at you, and you were suddenly aware that she was carrying a box with her.

“Oh, well that’s very sweet of you Maria,” You tried your best not to look uncomfortable.

“My husband Felipe and I,” She explained as she opened the box. “We were never able to conceive children ourselves,” She pulled out a very ancient looking, very detailed veil from the box.

“This veil has been worn by many generations in my family, and if I can’t pass it onto my own daughter, it would be my honor to give it to you to wear tomorrow,”

“Oh, Maria,” You did your best to hide your disgust for the veil, looking at her teary eyed smile. You glanced over her head and caught Chloe’s gaze; she was making a face that mimicked how you felt. It was like one of those fruit hats women wore in movies or commercials, only white and frilly. But what could you do?

“I’d be honored to wear it,” You nodded sweetly. Maria threw her arms around you with a tearful cry of joy. Behind her Chloe waved her arms wildly like “what the hell are you doing?!”. You could just shrug like “what else am I supposed to do?!”

“Bless you, hermosa,” She kissed you on the cheek as she stood up to leave. “Now I’ll leave you ladies to your fun,” She smiled and waved as she walked out the door.

“...What the hell?” Chloe couldn’t help but erupt in giggles as she properly examined the monstrosity.

“Shut up,” You tossed a pillow at her. “What was I supposed to do?! She was asking me to carry on her family name, or something,” You looked at the door where she had left; although you were still pretty drunk so you half remembered the conversation.

“Well if Rafael marries you while you wear this, you know it’s true love,” She snickered as she put it on you and turned you towards a mirror above your key ring holder.

“Oh God…” You threw your hands over your face and fell onto the couch face forward.

“Hey hey hey, don’t wrinkle it!” Chloe continued to tease and giggle. “That thing probably came over in some old Cuban woman’s raft,”

“I hate you,” You muttered through the cushions.

“You’ll hate me more if I don’t get you in bed right now,” Chloe shook her head with a laugh and a bottle of water. “But first, drink this. We don’t want you hungover on your big day,”

“Thanks mom,” You took the water and headed to your room, leaving the veil on the couch.

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

The next day Chloe woke you up by jumping up and down on your bed yelling “IT’S YOUR WEDDING DAY!!!”

“...Jesus Christ Chloe,” You grumbled. “It’s too early for this,”

“Too early?” She scoffed, plopping right on your butt making you grunt. “Nonsense. It’s your wedding day!!”

“Which begs the question why you’re so happy about it,” You raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“What? I can't be happy for my best friend to get her happy ending?” She feigned offense.

“....Uh huh”, You continued to give her the look.

“And the fact that my bridesmaid’s dress makes me look like a classy pornstar?” She added.

“....An oxymoron, but go on,” You waited for it.

“....And the fact that every eligible lawyer and cop are gonna be at this wedding?!” She finally exclaimed.

“There it is,” You nodded your head with a roll of your eyes as you threw on some clothes to go downstairs.

------

There was a limo waiting outside Chloe’s apartment for you and her. You hesitated getting in, remembering the last time you were in one of them. Chloe decided she’d do a ‘sweep’ for you. She jumped in and slid down the seats, squealing in delight.

“All clear babe! Check out what the husband left you!”

You cautiously slid in the limo to see Chloe pointing to a mini bar/fridge full of sweet pastries and champagne.

“Good lord,” You shook your head with a smile. “Chloe maybe we--” You were starting to say maybe at least wait until 11 am to start drinking, but she had already popped the champagne.

“Here,” She grabbed orange juice from the mini fridge. “Mimosas, the breakfast drink,”

You just stared at the drink she was trying to hand you; orange liquid in a champagne flute. You closed your eyes and told yourself the mind elixir was bright orange like Fanta, not orange juice. You took a deep breath and slowly accepted the mimosa, sipping it. See? You were fine. Everything was fine.

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

As you pulled up to St. Michael’s you saw it was swarmed with cameras, reporters, and people in general. It looked like a circus. You saw the crowd and silently wished you had said screw tradition and had Rafael there with you. But you were a big girl, and you had Chloe.

“...Can we get out somewhere less...this?” You nervously asked your driver.

“Absolutely ma’am, I’ll find a private entrance. No problem,”

“Thank you,” You sighed in relief.

-----

After driving around the church a few times, the driver finally found a side street blocked off. He informed the copper he had you in the limo, and the cop waved your limo inside. Chloe jumped out of the limo while holding your hand, nearly breaking your arm.

“Oh! Wait! Hey Jeeves, can we get those pastries and mimosa’s in the lady’s bridal suite?”

“Chloe his name is not--”

“It’s fine, ma’am,” The driver chuckled. “I’ll make sure the refreshments are delivered to your dressing room,”

“You’re a doll,” She blew him a kiss before she continued pulling you through the huge building like she knew exactly where you were going.

“Excuse me, where do we go?” Chloe asked a random man in a suit.

“Oh, it’s you Ms. Y/N!” The man pulled out a camera and began snapping photos.

“Oh my god--- What is WRONG with you people?!” Chloe shoved him aside and took you down another corridor. Finally you reached a doorway that was guarded by two armed guards.

“Hi, do you know--”

“Right this way,” One of them took your hand. “Mr. Barba is already inside getting ready,” He nodded to the door as you walked away. You wanted so badly to swing open the door and jump into his arms, but you knew you had to stay calm.

“Great!” You did your best to smile at him as he led you and Chloe down the hall to another doorway. He opened it to reveal a huge room with a vanity, a changing wall, two long body mirrors and a lush couch. Two sinks lined the wall and a room with a toilet was behind it. Yours and Chloe’s dresses were hanging on the changing wall, and sitting on the vanity were your treats from the limo.

“Weee! Look at all of this!!!” Chloe clapped her hands and giggled wildly as she danced around the lavish room.

“I mean, it is nice--”

“Nice? God I wish I was getting married here!” Chloe sighed as she poured herself another mimosa.

“Well, if you ever find a man I’ll look into it,” You teased her.

“Uh I think you mean WHEN,” She pointed out. “And I think the ‘when’ will be by tonight!”

“My wedding reception isn’t a singles mixer, Chloe,” You rolled your eyes.

“Well of course not,” She shook her head. “It’s a BALL!”

“Oh good god,” You groaned with a small laugh as you poured yourself a mimosa and downed it.

“Whoa there killer, let’s slow it down there,” She gave you a look. “Wouldn’t want you stumbling down the aisle in front of a million people,”

“...Do you think you’re helping?” You asked her in an annoyed tone.

“Sorry, sorry,” She apologized as there was a knock at the door. Chloe answered it to see two women carrying makeup cases and hair tools.

“We’re here to get you ready, Ms. Y/L/N,” One of them smiled at you.

“And her maid of honor, right?” Chloe jumped in.

“Uh...if that’s what the bride wants,” The other one looked at you with a wary stare.

“Yeah that’s fine, actually please do her first by all means,” You waved them over to the long sink wall and vanity.

“You’re a good friend,” Chloe put her hands over your face with tears in her eyes as she smiled.

“...You’re ridiculous,” You patted her head sweetly before she sat in the vanity, ready to be made over.

While Chloe was being turned into a princess, you walked over and admired your dress that looked like it was made for one. It was a long, cream white colored sleeveless dress with intricate cubic zirconia diamonds sewn into the bust. It was the simplest dress Chloe had let you pick. Suddenly you remembered the cornucopia veil, it was sitting on the couch in the box Maria had brought it over in. You pulled it out and put it on; when one of the stylists saw it she gasped.

“Oh, ma’am, I don’t know--”

“My...mother, asked me to wear it,” You stopped her.

“Right,” She nodded uncomfortably while Chloe tried not to laugh at the disgusted faces they were clearly trying to hide.

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

After what seemed like hours, you and Chloe were finally done in full make up and up do's. One of the ladies picked up the ancient headwear and tried positioning on your hair as best she could. She took several tries, using hair pins and hairspray before she finally stepped back.

“Lovely,” She smiled as she stepped back to admire her work. You looked in the vanity mirror to see your finished look. The headdress felt like it weighed five pounds, but it was intricately woven into your hair, there was no getting it out now. You longed for the moment Rafael would rip it off your head as soon as you were alone in your honeymoon suite...or, y’know before then.

“Well we’ll see you out there ma’am,” One of them nodded as they gathered their stuff and scooted out the door, leaving you and Chloe alone once again.

“Well,” Chloe examined your head. “At least you won’t lose it…” She was cut off by a knock at the door. You started to open it when you recognized those eyes.

“Rafa!” You slammed the door and yelled through it. “What are you doing? We can’t see each other before the wedding, it’s bad luck,”

“Baby I think we’ve gotten all the bad luck already out of the way,” He called through the door. “And I really, really need to talk to you,”

Your eyes widened in panic as you looked at Chloe, who sprung into best friend mode. “Calm yourself, I’m sure it’s nothing…” She walked over and put her hands on your shoulders.

“Stop freaking her out counselor, are you planning to run? Tell me now so I can get out there and tie you to a chair,”

“What? No! I just-- Y/N please will you open the door, por favor?” He sounded seriously distressed, and he used his secret weapon: speaking in spanish.

You sighed and slowly opened the door, revealing Rafael in a gorgeous black and white tux, and the tallest top hat you’d ever seen.

“Well well well, Mr. Monopoly, don’t you look spiffy?” Chloe snickered, causing you to hit her while Rafael made an even more distressed face.

“I knew it, god it’s awful,” He sighed as he took it off his head and walked inside the room.

“So why are you--?” You started to ask.

“The mayor said it would ‘look better on tv’,” He scoffed in disgust.

“Oh Jesus--” You rolled your eyes. “Baby why didn’t you just tell him--?”

“Because that stupid fucking contract we signed said we would go along with everything he said for the rest of this whole shit show!” He growled at the mess he had gotten himself into. The mayor knew damn well how much more “favors” he would ask of him before he signed that contract, he just knew it.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better…” You pointed to your own head. Rafael’s worried expression turned into a relieved smile as he finally noticed the bird’s nest on your scalp.

“...Maria sprung this on me last night,” You pointed to it. “At least you can take yours off,”

“...Well, that does help a bit,” He half smiled as he examined your ceremonial headdress.

“Is that it mi amor, you’re freaking out over a hat?” You put your hand on his face.

“Well our children are going to see these photos! Videos! Our GRANDKIDS! They’re going to think their grandpa was a huge douche,” He cried overdramatically.

“...Is this what it’s like to be with me? Because I don’t love it,” You teased him.

“I’m serious, Y/N! This isn’t funny!” He gave you a pitiful pout.

“...What else?” You gave him an expectant look.

“What else?”

“All of this over a hat?”

“...Alright fine,” He sighed as he sat down on the lush couch. “I know what I said about all that mattered was me and you standing across from each other but--”

“But?” You gave Chloe a worried look.

“But I also wanted someone else,”

“....Who, Olivia?” You rolled your eyes.

“No!” He exclaimed. “No, my childhood priest, Father Hernandez,”

“Oh,” You said with a relieved sigh. “Well, baby why don’t you just--”

“Because they’re being super particular, stupid Catholics!” He got up and started pacing.

“Apparently THEIR priest Father O’Shannon is ‘assigned’ to this place. God forbid anyone dare replace him,” He grumbled as he continued to pace.

“So you--”

“And it’s just the last straw on top of all of this bullshit, all this bending. I can’t do it!!” He threw up his hands in frustration.

“....Baby, breathe,” You stopped his pacing and pressed your forehead against his, your own personal calming gesture.

“God I guess it is true what they say,” Chloe suddenly spoke up, causing you both to give her a perplexed stare.

“In a couple when one person starts to go off the rails the other one instantly becomes the calm rational one,” She gestured between the two of you.

“Hey, I am NOT--” He protested.

“Baby please,” You shook your head. “I almost forgot how high strung you were until this moment,”

“High strung?” He took offense. “What are you talking about?”

“You forget that I worked for you,” You giggled.

“I’m high strung at work?” He asked. The question caused you to erupt in laughter. “What?! Am I?”

“Oh no sweetie, you’re totally mellow,” You smiled sarcastically.

“How am I--?”

“Think about how much coffee you drink at work, Rafa,”

“I don’t see how that is relevant,” He huffed. He loved his coffee, so what?

“...Mmmkay,” You chuckled, kissing his cheek.

“Well whatever, kettle” He made a pouty face.

“Fair,” You chuckled. “But we’re talking about you right now, pot,”

“Hey, I think I have done more than my share of helping you through your little ‘episodes’, it’s your turn!!!” He crossed his arms like a kid.

“Oh really? ‘Episodes’?” You replied in a snarky tone. Chloe sensed the rising tension and sprung into action.

“Okay! I think that’s enough, Pot. Kettle.” Chloe stepped in between you. “You’re clearly both too high strung for this conversation,”

“He started it,” You stuck your tongue out at Rafael like a five year old.

“Okay now let's not turn on each other, then the terrorist headwear wins,” She pointed to the hat on the vanity and your head.

“....Well do you have a solution, Gandhi?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Actually,” She smiled proudly. “I think I do,” She grabbed her phone and began typing something into google maps.

“You wanna share with the class?” Rafael asked as he gave you a look, like you were supposed to understand her crazy.

“.....Have you seen The Office?” She asked them, then glanced at you with a knowing look. Your face turned into a huge grin as you realized what she was implying.

“Chloe, you’re a genius,” You grabbed her in a hug.

“I know,” She nodded with a cocky smile.

-----

Chloe popped her head out of the door, making sure the coast was clear. When she was sure, she motioned to the two of you out and down the hall towards the back door where you left the limo. You and Rafael got in, and Chloe began to shut the door when you stopped her.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Someone has to vamp!” She pointed out.

“You're a good friend, Chloe,” You gave her a kiss on her head.

“I know,” She said boastfully. “Just hurry, my bubbly personality can’t hold them off for long,” She slammed the door and you were off.

-----

“...Fucking New York traffic! Estúpido tráfico de mierda,,,” Rafael began muttering under his breath. His childhood church in the Bronx was at least thirty minutes away with the busy Manhattan traffic. You put a hand on his knee to try and soothe him, but he was extra wound up by now. It reminded you of when you were just his assistant; he’d get this way when a trial wasn’t going his way and he felt backed into a corner. The worst days you’d seen him have at the office, where he’d suddenly take off for hours in the middle of the day….

That gave you an idea.

“Baby,” You snapped him out of his internal ranting monologue. He turned to you with a dismayed look.

“I’m sorry, carino,” He apologized, taking your hand that was placed on his knee. “I know I’m--”

“Can priests marry people outside of their church?” You simply asked him.

“....Like a closer church?” He looked at you in confusion.

“.....Actually, I was thinking somewhere closer,” You bit your lip with a smile as you took his phone and typed in an address that linked to the driver’s phone map. He glanced down at it and gave you a huge smile.

“You’re the best,” He gave you a huge kiss as the limo made a U-Turn.

------

Luckily Father Gonzalez used a bike for his transportation, so he was able to make it through traffic pretty easily. He met the two of you outside Central Park pretty soon after you got there.

“I appreciate you doing this for us, Padre,” Rafael hugged the priest tightly. “I didn’t want anyone else marrying us,”

“Claro, Rafael,” He smiled. “Of course! I was hoping St. Michael’s would have a change of heart, pero--”

“You know Catholics,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

“Si,” He nodded. “They’re almost as stubborn as you!” The padre chuckled. Then he noticed you.

“Ay, Rafa,” He gestured at you. “es este su prometido?”

“Si,” You nodded. “Soy su prometida,”

“Ay bien! Ella habla español!” Father Gonzalez smiled brightly. “So are you two ready?”

“Si, Padre,” Rafael nodded. “But first, we need the right backdrop,” He grinned as he took your hand and walked into the park.

----

It was the middle of the day on a Saturday so the park was full of families playing, joggers, street artists and the like. Luckily for you however, nobody seemed to want to see the penguins today. The enclosure was almost empty except for one elderly couple.

“Witnesses!” You beamed at Rafael as you calmly walked up to the two and tapped the woman on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” You smiled sweetly. “Would you-- my fiancé and I, we’re supposed to get married in this huge chapel down the street from here, but it was just all too much circus so we snuck away so that we could just get married in our favorite spot here and--”

“Baby, too much detail,” Rafael laughed. He loved it when you would ramble on about something when you got excited, but you were on a time crunch.

“...Right,” You blushed. “Anyway is there any way--”

“You’d like us to be witnesses, dear?” The old woman smiled brightly at you.

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind,” You smiled gratefully.

“Of course not!” The man with her chimed in. “Y’know, back in our day, we had to get married in secret too,”

You suddenly noticed that they were an interracial couple; a white woman and a black man. Your smile faded a bit as you thought of the hardships they must have been through, just to be together, similar to you and Rafael.

“Okay, we’ll do the fast version of this, mijos,” The Padre opened his Bible and began to speak, but looked at the two of you.

“Actually, you know you’re going to do this whole spiel in a little while anyway, why don’t you say your vows in your own words while you can?”

“Oh God,” You muttered, then gasped. “I’m so sorry! I--”

“It’s fine, senorita,” He nodded.

“I just...I’m not great, with the speeches and the speaking in public thing,” You twirled the one piece of hair hanging from your updo in your hand nervously.

“I mean, we’re not exactly in public, amor,” Rafael smirked.

“You know what I mean!” You hit him playfully. “I just...I want it to be perfect,”

“If you speak from your heart dear, it will be perfect,” The old woman assured you. “Just look into his eyes and say whatever it is you’re thinking,”

“....Well, maybe not ‘everything’,” The old man added with a laugh, giving you two a raunchy look. Good lord.

“Okay,” You took a deep breath and took Rafael’s hands, looking into his gorgeous green eyes.

“I...um….” You looked down nervously.

“Hey,” Rafael cupped your chin to look at him. “It’s okay, mi amor. It’s just me, it’s just us. Just like I said,”

“Just us,” You smiled, then began to start again.

“Rafael,” You took a deep breath. “It’s...it’s hard for me to make some big speech because the truth is, when I look into your eyes I forget everything. Every wrong decision, every hurdle we’ve been through, it all just...fades away, when you look at me,” You squeezed his hands tighter.

“You have done so much for me in so little time. People probably think that we’re insane because we’re committing our lives to each other after only really knowing each other for a few months, but the truth is it feels like a lifetime. I feel like I was born loving you, I just didn’t know it until I saw you,” His eyes were starting to water as your voice cracked with your own tears.

“I know that I have put you through so much grief, so much pain and...doubt,” You paused, wiping a few stray tears. “But you have never, not once, abandoned me. You’ve stuck through all of my crazy, all of our shenanigans--”

You glanced over at the old couple who were grinning ear to ear. You didn’t want to get into all the psycho drama you and Rafael had been through in front of total strangers, but he gave you a knowing look when you said ‘shenanigans’. He knew what you meant; because of course he did. You were connected.

“I’m actually really glad that you had your ‘freak out’ because for one it made me look like the sane one for once,” All of you chuckled. “But also, because it got us our chance to get married our way, in our spot,” You gestured to the cave around you.

“I remember the very first time you brought me here, I thought that it was done. We were done. I thought that our one perfect day was going to be just that-- one perfect day,” You began to choke on your words again as you thought back to that very first day, the day you “magicked” him.

“I never in my wildest dreams thought that--'' You glanced at the Padre and the couple again. “That we’d….start, again here,” You exchanged another knowing look.

“And I certainly never thought you’d propose to me in this place-- with a flash mob, no less!” The Padre and couple laughed in surprise, Rafael began to blush profusely, but you put a hand to his red cheek.

“Literally every single beginning we’ve had-- it started right here,” You wiped more stray tears, already knowing the woman back at the church was going to have to re-do all of it.

“And now it’s starting again-- for the rest of our lives,” You sniffled while Rafael wiped more tears from your face and then his own.

“...Okay I’m done,” You took a deep breath in and out as you smiled at Father Hernandez.

“Alright well then Rafa--”

“Oh wait!!!” You suddenly interjected. “Also, I love you,” You make an “eek” face. “I can’t believe I left that out,”

“...I’m pretty sure that whole speech was an ‘I love you,’ dearie,” The old woman patted your back with a reassuring smile.

“I agree,” Rafael nodded. “And to be honest-- I don’t think I can follow that,”

“Oh come on,” You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t that great,”

“No it wasn’t great,” He shook his head. “It was perfecto,” He took both of your hands in his once more. “...All I can say is, ditto,”

“Ditto?” You laughed. “Real romantic, Rafa,”

“Well I can’t think of anything more than what you’ve already said!” Rafael shrugged with a laugh.

“Well, except this: You say that I’ve put up with you, and never abandoned you, but neither did you,” He pulled you closer towards him.

“You’ve put up with me plenty, and you could have walked away plenty of times. But you stayed with me. You fought for me. And I will spend the rest of our lives trying to be good enough for you, not the other way around,”

“You’re already good enough for me, Rafael,” You bit your lip as you tried your hardest not to kiss him before Padre said you could.

“Can I kiss her yet Padre?” Rafael read your mind.

“Calma, Rafa,” Padre chuckled. “Do you have rings?”

“Shit, the rings!” Rafael groaned. “Sorry, Padre,” He quickly apologized.

“Wait...baby,” You turned around and looked down at all the decorative stones that lined the bottom of the tank. You picked two up and handed one to Rafael.

“Pebbles,” He smiled at you. “Like penguins,”

“Ah, well then…” The Padre shrugged, having no idea what was happening but went along with it anyway. “I guess, exchange the pebbles now?”

You giggled as you placed your pebble in Rafael’s hand, then he placed his in yours.

“Well then, I guess by the power vested in me by God and the state of New York, I now pronounce you man and wife,” He shrugged with a smile. “Now you may kiss her, Rafa,”

“Gracias, Padre,” He grinned before pulling you into a passionate kiss, a kiss rivaling many of the kisses you had exchanged in this cave before now.

“Now, if you three would like to attend a circus, we’d be glad to have you,” You glanced at your three witnesses.

They looked at each other with confused glances, then shrugged and followed you and Rafael back towards the limo.

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

As soon as you pulled back behind the church, the Padre and the couple were shown to seats by one of the security guards while you and Rafael walked back to the bridal suite. Chloe ran up to the both of you before you could make it here, Rafael’s top hat in her hand.

“What the hell, you guys?!” She hissed, then realized you were in a church so she made a sign of the cross and kissed her fist.

“They’re about to start rioting!” She added.

“Sorry, sorry, Chloe,” You kissed her cheek. “You’re a good friend,”

"I want you to realize you've said that three times now,” She smiled proudly. “Be sure to tell all of your sexy eligible lawyer friends that, Rafael,”

“I’ll be sure to slip it in every conversation later, Chloe,” He smirked as he gave her a kiss on the cheek as well.

“Alright now take this magic hat and get down that aisle before the mayor actually kills you,” She shoved the top hat in Rafael’s hands and shooed him through the hall and towards the doors of the sanctuary.

“Alright,” She focused on you. “You ready to do this?”

“I mean…” You gestured to your messed up make up and the veil falling out of your hair.

“Aw crap,” Chloe grimaced. “Ok, well looks like you’re getting the Chloe special,” She went and grabbed her purse from the bridal room and pulled you into the ladies room.

After a few minutes you reemerged with perfect make up and the veil reattached to your hair like a nest. Hey, you just had your perfect ceremony. You could last a few more minutes with this thing.

“Alright, now you’re ready,” She brushed you off and opened the sanctuary doors to signal the piano to start playing the Bridal Suite.

The doors opened and Chloe took your hand as you both walked down the aisle together. The flashing lights and bright red dots from film cameras were starting to overwhelm you as you walked, but you focused on Rafael.

He was at the end of all this erratic tunnel of people gawking at you like a zoo animal. You just breathed in and out and kept your gaze locked into his; his smile was like a bright beacon in the darkness. Finally you reached the altar and he took your hands in his. You felt safe again; you’d always feel safe in his grasp.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” The priest began to speak, but the only thing the two of you heard were each other, speaking volumes to each other with just your looks. It was just like Rafael had promised: Just you and him.

And it would just be you and him, forever.

[expensiveglasses]

Charming Chapter One

Summary: Prince Jungkook was as infuriating as he was beautiful. In line to one day be king, he requested your guidance in the ways of his people. In turn he will make you laugh, give your family fine gifts, and become an invaluable friend. Unfortunately, he will also make you fall in love with him. But the most unfortunate thing of all was his betrothal…to Snow White

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Fantasy, Angst, Snow white/au

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 4538

Warnings: None for this chapter. Future warnings are TW: Major character “death” TW: Thoughts of suicide TW: Attempted suicide. Nothing is graphically described. Chapters will be noted when these things take place.

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It was during the spring that you felt the most content. Everything was reborn, blossoming from the frozen winter. The village came to life with music, new animals, and the sweet smell of fresh bread.

It had been this way since you were a child, no taller than your mother’s hip and only aware of how acutely you spurned the winter. With chapped fingers and lips, you watched bitterly as your friends, Peter and Else, played, squealing loudly as they threw snow at one another.

The three of you, friends since you could remember, filled to the brim with laughter, scraped knees, and all as plain looking as could be. This suited you fine, and there was little to disappoint you but short moments of impassioned arguments with your two best friends and a brief encounter with the very silly king and his very silly son.

As the only daughter (and indeed, the only child) of the villages master tailor, you found yourself often around the regal and ridiculous. So it was of no surprise when the king himself requested your father’s services and you were required to help him carry his materials to the castle where the king greeted you with his only heir, a son, wearing the silliest hat you’d ever laid eyes upon, a red feather sticking from the top.

You were as different as two people could be and with your simple manners and upbringing, you could not begin to understand the pomp and circumstance of such a silly little boy with rounded cheeks and a chest puffed much too high.

He strutted and flounced about the castle as a peacock would its park and the sight was all together ridiculous for your 9 year old eyes to behold. He’d called you peasant girl and remarked on your general lack of beauty and at 13 years old himself, you felt he had little to offer either, aside from a sizeable kingdom to trump the bed of straw and sheep’s skin you called your own.

For his 13th birthday, Prince Jungkook of Löhrenstein, would have a party, in which all the nobility and sovereigns of the land would be in attendance with their young princesses, and little duchesses, hoping to secure a treaty with his father, a contract between two kingdoms; a betrothal of a prince and a princess.

Of course, you would know nothing of this sort of formality or indeed the contracts of marriage. Your education was as broad as tending a home, carrying your father’s supplies, making flower crowns, and helping to herd the cows during the Viehscheid.

So, while the prince was living in a castle and throwing parties and sneering down his nose at near everybody, you were busy helping your father to sew his clothes. At least you could still play in the fields when the sun was high and warm and the flowers were just beginning to bloom.

And this was how you spent your years, watching as Else became beautiful and elegant, long brown hair thick and wavy, tied back in braids as she went to work in the village at her father’s bakery and you watched in quiet envy as all the boys took notice, bringing her fine milks and cheeses as tokens of their affection while you stayed plain. Even Peter had become mildly handsome as he grew into his gangly limbs, erasing the once mousy appearance for a broad shouldered, sun freckled young man.

You told yourself you didn’t mind so much that you were still plain while she was beautiful, but of course you did a little. To be poor but beautiful afforded you more than being poor and plain. Peter often told you that you were just as beautiful as Else, and while you were happy with the compliment, you knew it was because of his childhood love and devotion to you.

You believed that was why he chose to become apprentice to your father, to someday seek your fathers blessing for your hand. While you did not love Peter the way that he loved you, you could not deny the appeal of continuing with the comforts that you were already accustomed to. After all, you were the only daughter to the king’s tailor…that did afford you some small comforts. You supposed someday when he asked for your hand, as he inevitably would, that you would accept.

When you turned 18, however; there was a small gift from the gods, in the form of a late blooming. A glow to your cheeks and a blossoming of beauty. You were, of course, no Else, but you could certainly hold your own and found that you had more than just Peter as an admirer; much to his chagrin.

Perhaps that’s why you feared that any day now he would ask for your father’s permission to court you because then your path as his future wife would be decided. You were in a strange position as the daughter of the king’s master tailor. You were neither peasant nor nobility so while your ability to choose your spouse was more under your control, you were still held to the standard of your father and who he deemed fit to represent his family, and in turn, the kings.

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The sun had just risen to its fullest height, waxing hot as it commandeered the sky, blue and shivering with the heat. It was sweltering and crowded in the square; noisy with life. The baker’s wife was out shouting, calling attention to the freshly baked rolls sitting just passed the door of the bakery. Else stood beside him, batting her eyelashes and looking pretty; using charms her father could not to entice more customers and you smiled.

The sheep were drinking from the water trough in the center, surrounded by red and yellow poppies in full bloom. The clock tower struck one and you glanced up, eyeing the time wearily. You stood under the archway of a building painted green as a melon, hoping to escape some of the day’s heat.

A woman chased a boy from her garden, chickens flying around in aggravation and you peered after the child as he sulked down the lane, feet dirty and bare. “You hungry, boy?” You called and he looked to you, face caked with dirt from playing and a nod as answer. “Here.” You tossed him the apple you held in your hand and he thanked you, running back into the bustling of the town.

The crowd quivered with conversation and your attention was suddenly captured by the gossip of two young ladies as they passed you. “Yes, the king’s carriage has already left the castle. Apparently, the prince is to be fitted for a ball.”

“I wonder if we shall see him.” The other remarked and your eyes swung to the road, spotting the carriage, scarlet curtains billowing from the windows as it made its descent into town. You gasped, grabbing the skirts of your dress and dashing mad towards your home.

Your father would whip you if you were late. You ran through the fields, cutting through tall shrubs and across dirt paths. A childhood spent playing in this winding village afforded you the intimate knowledge of all its byways.  

You arrived at your home, gasping and covered in dirt and your mother came out, fussing loudly over your appearance, bustling you into the home and towards your room. Your father sighed loudly as you passed, eyes scanning your dress, soiled with the toil of your morning.

“This is no way to greet your king.” He remarks as your mother pulls you behind the wooden room divider, helping you to strip from your clothing and wiping you down quickly with a wet wash cloth.

“My dear, you are not fit to be seen!” Your mother scolded, washing roughly at your face and you grimaced, shivering in the chill of the room. “You knew they were coming today.”

“They are early.” You complained and your mother’s lips smacked in irritation.

“A king is never early. He always arrives exactly when he means to. You would do well to remember that, Y/N.”

Your mother helped you to dress in something new quickly, repining the last piece of your hair just as the crunch of gravel from the royal carriage wheels could be heard rounding the corner and the two of you rushed from the room and to the front door to wait with your father.

You took a deep breath, head bowed into your chest as you heard the carriage come to a stop in front of you. It was abnormal for the king to come to your home, far too busy with his royal duties to condescend to see a peasant, but his son and only heir had recently returned from…well, to be sure, you did not know where he actually had been, but rumor said he was poorly behaved and had gone somewhere far away to teach him the ways of a king.

This would not surprise you, were it true; he’d been a ghastly child. You could only imagine him now, in adulthood. Upon his return, his father had announced his desire to reacquaint his son with their kingdom and your father being his master tailor would receive the special privilege of his presence, it seemed.

The king stepped from the carriage first, and you watched his feet move towards your family.

“Your majesty!” Your father bowed and pleasantries were exchanged as the prince himself disembarked from the carriage.

You kept your eyes trained fast on the ground; the bottom of your dress already smudged with dirt from where you stood.

“My son,” The king announced and your father bowed once more, both your mother and yourself curtsying deep.

“You remember my wife and my daughter?” Your father said and it was now that you felt it was safe to lift your eyes from the ground.

“My, yes,” Said the king turning his gaze towards you, “you have grown well, girl.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” You replied, soft; bowing your head and he smiled, pleased.

“You remember my son?” He asked, pointing his hand to the figure by his side and you allowed your eyes to slide over to him.

It is unfortunate, in this life; that some people are just born with everything the heart could desire. Good fortune, health, money and comfort and to have all that and still be handsome? Well, truly life was unfair.

He stood tall, face angular with deep set brown eyes and rounded lips. You were under no illusion that he was anything but blessed by the gods. They must have looked upon him very favorably, indeed.

“Yes, your highness.”

The prince looked at you curiously, head curved to the side as your father beckoned them into your home and you watched the king and prince follow after him. You heated with shame as you entered after, watching the prince survey your home while your father and the king conversed.

He must think this was so beneath him; to stand in the home of a pauper. The floor, though it had been swept, was still covered in a layer of dirt and the furniture was old and matted, worn with use. You had more than others in your village, but compared to a king, this was true poverty. It must have seemed you had nothing at all.

“Florian, come look at these colors.” The king beckoned and the prince was quick to walk to his side, looking over the fabric your father had assembled as options for his ball.

“These are exquisite.” He remarked, voice low and serious. “I wonder, sir, my father says you will come to the castle tomorrow to prepare my clothing.”

“Yes, your highness, with my apprentice in training, Peter.”

The prince’s eyes flickered to you in surprise and you looked back down at the floor. “Not your daughter? I remember she used to join you when I was a boy.”

“Yes, my daughter would come to help me carry my things, but since I have acquired an apprentice, I have found that quite unnecessary.”

“I would very much like if you would bring her tomorrow, along with your apprentice, of course.” The prince smiled and you couldn’t help but look up in surprise.

“A woman?” The king laughed, loud and joyful and you bowed your head once more, flushed with shame. “What purpose would a woman have in a man’s business? She should stay here and help tend the home, Florian. Don’t be unreasonable.”

“I should very much like to have her return to the castle, for reminiscence sake, father. That is, if her mother can spare her.”

“Of course, your majesty.” She bowed.

“She can carry some of the fabric.” The prince smiled, eyes flickering to your bowed head, “like when she was a child.”

“You have a very strange sense of humor.” The king chortled and you closed your eyes, willing the humiliation from you. “Very well then, we shall see you on the morrow with your apprentice and your daughter. You know the time, I presume?”

“Yes, of course, your majesty.” Your father smiled, escorting them out the door and your mother and you stood in the kitchen, eyes trained on the floor.

So, it would seem he had not changed. Like a dog at his table, you had been summoned. So amusing, was it, to watch a woman carry fabric and needles for a man and stand in the background. Always to be seen, but never to be heard.

Your heart bled with the thought and you listened carefully as the carriage resumed its journey. Your father stepped through the threshold of your home and you could feel his eyes on the crown of your head.

“Now come, girl, there is no need to be so downtrodden.” Your father remarked lightly and your throat burned with emotion.

“Y/N.” Your mother said softly and you shook your head, turning to walk away.

“I wish to be alone.” You murmured, fleeing to your room.

The window was open, soft breeze fluttering through the soft white curtains, now dirtied from the dust of the road. You closed your bedroom door softly behind you, walking towards the window where you sat at your stool.

Laying your arm across the lip of your window, you rested your chin in the palm of your hand and sighed. To feel like a bartering chip in the world of men was difficult. To never be in charge of your own destiny. Destiny, for you, was to be nice to look at and the ability to spread your legs. You wanted more than that; wanted to be heard, wanted your thoughts and feelings to be considered.

A knock at your door called your attention and your mother stepped through the door, smiling softly. “It is an honor to be called back to the castle.” She remarked and you sighed once again, returning your gaze back out the window.

“Mother.” You frowned and she sat down on your bed. “You should understand…as a woman. We’re not objects to be played with.”

“My dear,” she tutted and you looked over at her. “Men are simple creatures, if they’ve nothing to look at, they don’t know what to do with themselves.”

You chuckled, sitting up straighter, hands dropping into your lap. “Then what are we to do with them, mother?”

“We guide them, darling. They like to feel useful, so we help them feel so. We know our worth, we don’t need to be reminded. Men, they need to feel powerful; what else do they have? They may be the head of the family, but we are the neck and they turn where we will it.”

“I have the feeling a prince would be harder to guide.” You smiled and she shrugged.

“Perhaps. It just makes it more fun; more of a challenge.”

You frowned, staring back out the window and into the forest just beyond your gate. The air rippled with heat and you watched as a rabbit hopped from your garden and into the shade. “I don’t want to go, mother.” You admitted.

Your mother’s fingers closed around your hand at the window and you turned to look at her. “My dear…I’m afraid you’ve no choice.”

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The morning was hotter than usual and your dress stuck uncomfortable to your back. Peter was thrilled at the prospect of meeting the king and you realized belatedly that he’d never met him before. As the daughter of the king’s master tailor, you were in a unique position within society; neither pauper nor noble.

You’d had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting both the king and his son and you didn’t particularly care for either. “Imagine the palace, Y/N.” Peter sighed, eyes distant and smile pleasant as he threw an arm around your shoulder.

“I don’t need to imagine it.” You huffed, pushing his arm from your shoulder and readjusting the wrappings of fabric in your arms. “I’ve been there, remember?”

“Yes, I do. You never told me much about it, though. Always so secretive.”

You watched as he paused, tucking the edges of the tarp back around the rest of the fabric on the cart before resuming the journey. Your father walked steadily in front of the two of you.

“It was never a secret; I just didn’t particularly enjoy my time there.” You said carefully, eyes focused on the back of your father’s head. He’d beat you if you misspoke of the king.

“Yes, you did mention the prince was rather…interesting.”

“It seems nothing has changed.” You hummed softly, staring down at your feet, dusted yellow from the road.

“Then why are you coming today? If you dislike the prince, why come?” Peter questioned. The castle came into view, large and imposing against the backdrop of the mountains. White brick stood tall, the spires topped with a deep blue and for a moment you allowed yourself to admire the view.

Though the people within the castle were not to your taste, the palace itself was beautiful. Draped on every side by the mountain range and a large lake nestled in its cove, it was one of life’s true pleasures, gazing at its majesty.

“I think you will find, Peter, that I don’t have much of a choice. The prince requested his dancing monkey.” You replied, the words bitter on your tongue.

Your father called Peter forward and you spent the rest of the walk in silence, listening to the creak of the cart’s wheels as they cracked over rubble and dirt. Your mother had attempted to make you look pretty today, though you could not think why; presentable should be good enough for any man who wasn’t looking to choose a wife.

Your hair had been done and pinned beautifully, your most beautiful dress resting against your skin. It was certainly nothing to a noble, to be sure, but it was not unpleasant to look at and flattered the shape of your body.

It was hot, though, unbearably so, and you suffered dearly under the harsh rays of the late spring sun. Your mother insisted beauty had a price, but you weren’t quite sure why you were being asked to pay it.

The shade of the drawbridge was a welcome relief and you pulled a handkerchief from your bag and mopped at your face and neck. You didn’t need to offer the prince anymore reason to mock you.

You were escorted to the kings fitting rooms where you gently placed the fabric from your arms on top of what your father and Peter had carried from the cart. You patted at your neck once more as you watched Peter’s eyes scan the room excitedly. Absently you wondered if your father had taught him how to behave when the king was in the room.

Your father motioned you over and you slipped your handkerchief back in your bag and went to stand by his side. It wasn’t long before the king entered and you curtseyed deep, eyes trained on the floor.

He and your father spoke loudly as introductions were made and you could practically feel Peter vibrating from where he stood. He was excited, at least. You resisted the urge to pat at your cheeks, flushed with heat from the walk. Your throat felt like sand, dry as you swallowed and you wished more than anything for some water.

The men spoke noisily as they congregated around the fabric and it was decided that the king would be fitted first. You waited quietly as your father began his measurements, your fingers bunching tight in the fabric of your dress.

The room was overly warm, large windows allowing the sun to enter liberally and you felt yourself wilting in the heat. Voices muffling like you were under water, you watched as the gold, cerulean and cobalt of the room became nothing more than puddles of grey before fading into black.

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Your brow felt cool, wet with the brush of a damp cloth and your eyelashes fluttered open, taking in the surrounding room.

Deep mahogany filled your vision, blue and white canopy drapes traveling the length of the rail. Walls painted in beautiful scenery drew your gaze and you reached up to feel the cloth against your brow.

“You’re awake.”

You inhaled sharp, turning to find the source of the voice. You were surprised to find the prince sat beside you, a basin of water resting on a table next to him and a small smile as greeting.

“I’m sorry to have startled you.” He said softly and you lowered your hand, attempting to sit up. “Please remain as you are, Y/N. You need just a moment to recover.”

“What happened? Where am I?”

“You are in one of the spare bedrooms in the palace. It seems you over heated and became faint.”

You closed your eyes tight, shame filling your breast. It was one thing to faint in general, but in front of the king and his son. Mortification was a bitter friend.

“Where is the doctor?” You asked carefully, peaking one eye open and glancing around the room. The prince smiled watching as your gaze flittered everywhere but him.

“I asked him to step outside for a moment. I wanted to make sure for myself that you were well.” He replied, watching your brows furrow in thought.

“Why is that, your majesty?” You pondered, looking up at him and he removed the cloth from your head, soaking it back in the basin before wringing it anew and placing it back against your brow.

“We are old friends, are we not?”

He stared down at his lap, seemingly unsure himself of his statement and your mouth parted in surprise. “You would consider us friends, your highness?”

The prince smiled, wry, before chuckling with a shrug. “Perhaps friends is too liberal of a word. I know I wasn’t the most…pleasant to be around when I was a child. I was selfish and cruel and it’s why my father sent me away. I’m very sorry to have ever been cause for discomfort.”

He paused to gauge your reaction but at the moment you weren’t sure what to think. It had seemed so unlikely to ever receive an apology and now that you had it, you weren’t quite sure what to make of it.

“I was hoping we could begin again…become real friends.” He admitted.

“Please pardon my confusion, but I find myself very surprised. Why would you wish to be friends with a pauper, your majesty?” You finally asked, looking over at him and his smile was gentle, gaze shifting to the open window, the afternoon’s breeze composing a dance among the curtains.

“You are not a pauper, YN” He said, watching as a small starling landed on the balcony, head twisting side to side as it chattered excitedly. “But even if you were, I would still wish to have your friendship. It is my father’s intention to make me king someday and after so many years as a selfish child, I am ashamed to admit that I know nothing of the people in my kingdom. The sorrows, the trials, the joys…I want to be a good king. I want people to know they can depend on me to help, even if I’m not perfect or don’t always have the answers. I want my people to trust me.”

You watched the starling yourself now, hopping across the wood of the balcony, a song puffing his chest wide. “And you think I can help you with that?” You asked softly, watching as the bird resumed flight and soared into the distance.

The prince looked back down at you, reaching his hand out to press against your cheek and you flinched. “My apologies, I only meant to see if your skin was still flushed. May I?”

You nodded, watching as his fingers extended back to your face, the back of his hand pressing gently across your cheek and neck. He hummed, retracting his hand and smiled. “Your temperature has reduced. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You admitted, “Though I would love to have some water.”

“Yes, of course, I will have some fetched for you. Can I help you sit up?”

He held his hands out for you and you allowed him to pull you gently into an upright position. The world spun for a moment before settling and he moved to the door, calling for a water.

“As an answer to your earlier question,” he said, coming to sit across from you once again and you watched as he set the cloth and basin further away from the bed, “Not only do I wish to make amends, but I want to learn about my people and my kingdom and I believe that spending time with someone who knows the kingdom so well could only benefit that cause.”

“Spending time with me?” You questioned before pausing as a maid entered the room, handing the prince the water before leaving the room once more, door closed tightly behind her.

“Here,” he said, handing you the water which you took happily, clear and cool to the taste. “Yes, spending time with you. Getting to know all about you and my people.”

He paused to allow you a moment to think and you took the opportunity to finish your water, staring down into the cup once you’d allowed it to settle in your lap. It seemed unreasonable to refuse his offer if he really was trying to make a change.

The kingdom could only benefit from having their future king know them and care for their wellbeing. Perhaps the prince would make a very decent king after all, not the tyrant you’d assumed as a child.

“What say you?” He asked gently, holding his hand out for your glass and setting it on the table with the basin.

You looked up at him with a nod, smile tucked in the corner of your lips. “Very well. I can’t see how it would hurt. I will do as you request, your majesty.”

“Wonderful.” He smiled. “And please, call me Jungkook.”

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You guys! Welcome to my page. I’m so happy you’re here and I’d absolutely love to know what you think of my new series! Go ahead and leave a cheeky comment, my loves   😘 See you soon!

Chapter 2

Copyright © 2021 by ExpensiveGlasses. All rights reserved.

[doomface]

Figured I’d toss my hat into the ring and get back into the swing of things with this contest entry for @kururu418 ‘s latest contest! I feel like its been a hot minute since I’ve contributed to this universe and have been itching to get back into it... though classes and life in general have kept me from it sadly :’D With that said lets get into it!

Name: Syssa

Age: (Appears 18, likely much older)

Gender: Cis Female

Pantheon: Greek

Appearance: In her usual form Syssa is rather unassuming other than her notable muscles that might look a bit odd on such a “hippie” sort of individual. She wears a brown dress, sandals, some sleeves and some gold jewelry here and there. Most notably worn is THE AMULET OF HARMONIA, really its a copy of the one her father wears. It keeps her suitably blissed out. She’s about 5′10″, freckled, has green eyes, messy black hair (often with flowers in it), and often has bags under her eyes.

In her “angry” form she manifests armor upon her body of a dark purple hue, as well as a blue cape. Her eyes appear as little more than red orbs of hate hidden beneath her helmet. Lots of spikes everywhere. Oh, and also she tends to grow in size in this form - the exact upper limit of this height is unknown though surely within the 100s of feet, much like her father. 

Background: Syssa is the demi-god daughter of Ares and an unknown mortal woman. Unfortunately for her mother she inherited her father’s otherworldly temper and tendency to fly off the handle, grow in size, and spew fire everywhere. Her mother, unable to handle such a child handed her over to her father. 

From a young age her father trained her in the art of war as a means of an outlet for her inhuman rage and bloodlust. She has the blood of a war god in her veins, surely this would help? Though she was well trained Syssa still had little control over her godly temper and thus a duplicate of THE AMULET OF HARMONIA was made for the young demi-god. So long as she wears it she exists in a blissed out state, her inner rage sated. Syssa much prefers it this way and has thus spent much of her time gardening, taking naps, doing yoga, and spreading kindness unto others. While she cannot use her full powers in this state she understands that it is necessary so that she does not lash out and attack/kill her friends and family.

The amulet constantly fights the godlike rage within her in tandem with her own body, so, even with it on she appears pretty tired because her body is still in a constant war with itself.    

When she hears about Oberon’s hit on Astro and promise of a special favor she jumps at the opportunity. The favor she would ask for? A means for her body to be at balance with itself - a way for her to tap into her true godly potential without succumbing to mindless rage - one that doesn’t require the amulet.

And so she has come to claim that prize. She will keep the amulet on for now, but beware, if backed into a corner she may just take the amulet off and give in to her fury. Woe betide any who cross her path in such a sate for both friend and foe alike will be little more than chaff to be trampled under the demi-god’s foot.

Personality: With the amulet on Syssa is the most chill gal you could ever meet. She speaks slowly and often appears pretty blissed out. She might appear a little airheaded, and a little too calm and friendly, but the alternative is worse.

Without the amulet on she is quick to anger. That anger can quickly blossom into a rage state the likes of which, though she might try to fight it to the best of her abilities, will always consume her mind. In this state she sees not friend or foe, but rather EVERYONE becomes the enemy of the endless war she is mentally thrust in. She is little more than a raging berserker, a beast, one which cannot be sated without her amulet. As long as you have the amulet on hand and don’t break it or something it should be fine right? 

Powers and Abilities: Syssa has godlike strength, the ability to grow in height/size to over 100s of feet, a control over the element of fire, and a proficiency in weapons (taught by Ares himself!) With the amulet on these powers are greatly weakened, with the amulet off... She can certainly be a problem even for other gods. 

Relationships (if any): 

Ares: Dear old, dad. He’s the only one who gets the rage she has to live with. She greatly loves her father and seeks to make him proud. Even in her blissed out state she may try to spar with him every now and again just to make him happy.

Other Greek Gods: Most of the other gods are probably at least a little wary of her and her temper. They like her better when she’s blissed out, but... might still keep their distance. Syssa is... not unaware of the distance they keep. 

Quotes: 

Amulet!Syssa: “No, no, mannn I, like, don’t even like fighting that much. Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I have to like it yknow?”

“Have you tried maybe meditating a bit? That helps me clear my mind.”

“Why don’t we all - like - talk about our feelings or whatever?”

No Amulet!Syssa: “You don’t like the flowers in my hair? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LOOK STUPID!? YOU LOOK STUPID!”

“COME HERE SO I MAY PART YOUR SPINE FOR YOUR BODY, WRETCH!”

“What did you just say about me!? I’LL KILL YOU!”

“RAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!!!! *more wordless screaming*”

Trivia: The Ares I based her father off of, and subsequently her, is actually the iteration from the DC Superhero Girls webseries! While I’m not overly fond of the webseries (at least in comparison to the show proper) I do actually like this interpretation of Ares and think its very endearing. (You can check out the episodes he’s in by looking up Fresh Ares and Ares Up There on youtube. That’s it that’s all he appears in! So that said he really could be any Ares, just those episodes were my main inspiration)

Story: N/A (might come back and do this later if I have time c:) 

[howlingday]

RWBY OCs

Yup. Even I am not immune from getting creative and making RWBY OCs. So I have an OC team made, and I'll share them with you. I'm (somewhat) proud to introduce...

Team AMRY (Armory)

Arthur Dartz

Human male, 17 years old, Average body type

Yang's height (About 5'7")

Pale skin, Blue eyes, Gray hair (Curly)

From Mantle, in the lower district

Wears a tattered, Musketeer-style cloak with the Atlas insignia on the front and back, and a blue-feathered, white hat in his first appearance.

Now wears a much cleaner cloak with the Vacuo insignia on the front and back, but still wears the same feathered cap as before.

He wields a rapier (Victorie) and Main Gauche (Honneur), which can be combined for a sturdier blade, or separated for versatility. Also wields a flintlock rifle (Justice) with a pouch of small dust crystals for reloading.

Prefers working honorably and taking actions that results in the least amount of damage. He has difficulty trusting other after being betrayed by people he thought were his friends. Hates selfishness and people who value Lien over others.

Semblance is "Inspire," which restores the depleted aura of allies he speaks to.

He was accepted into Atlas on recommendations, but lost the documents when he was mugged by his "friends," who were hired by Jacques Schnee to create a vacancy for Weiss to attend.

Inspired by d'Artagnan from The Three Musketeers by Alexander Dumas.

Mason Vulka

Human male, 18 years old, Stocky body type)

About Weiss' height (About 5'3")

Tanned/Dark skin, Red eyes, Black hair (Curly and burnt)

From Pisci, a small fishing village south of Vacuo

Wears a welding apron and gloves. Bronze prosthetic right arm and leg.

Uses his prosthetic arm (Caminus) as a weapon, as it can shift into different weapons and tools (swords, hammers, wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers, shields, skillets, spatulas, etc.)

Prefers home-made over store-bought. Constantly thinking of new inventions and ideas to improve said inventions. Spends most of his time in Shade Academy at the Forge.

Semblance is "Prometheus," a small flame he can conjure in his left palm. If he pinches his fingers and thumb together, he can create a welding torch.

Abandoned as a child by his mother at the believed order of his father, spent his childhood in a coastal cove until he found Remus wash ashore. He nursed him to life and the two were returned to Pisci by a local Huntsman. Gained his prosthetics from the local blacksmith and worked there until old enough to attend a Huntsman beginner school at 12 years old.

Inspired Hephaestus and Vulcan from Greek and Roman mythology, respectively, and CID from Final Fantasy IV.

Remus Lupin

Faunus male, 19 years old, Thin body type

About Ren's height (About 5'9")

Tanned skin, Green eyes, Blonde hair (Scruffy), Light brown wolf ears and tail.

From Pisci, a small fishing village south of Vacuo

Wears a red tank top with purple accents and cargo pants with various herbs in their own pouches. Has a large chest scar from his left shoulder to his right hip.

Wields a bo staff (Eliá) with a bullet shield on the center. Can contract the shield and split the staff into two smaller combat sticks.

Pacifist at heart, prefers the least violent path and only uses non-lethal force. Wary of other Faunus because of the White Fang, but does not hide his own features. Blindly trusts his best friend Mason.

Semblance is "Savage," which activates after experiencing intense anger and enhances his physical strength and stamina, but numbs his mental faculties, such as rational thought and pain tolerance.

Lived happily in Aka until their mother returned from the White Fang to recruit his brother. In an attempt to stop them, his brother cut him and pushed him into the ocean, leaving him for dead. He was restored to life by Mason.

Inspired by Remus from the ancient Roman folktale of the founding of Rome.

Yasha Tsuki

Human male, 19 years old, Lean body build.

About Adam's height (About 6'3")

Pale skin, Blue eyes, Black hair (Long)

Wears a black robe with purple accents and weighted armor underneath, and an amigasa with containers of medicine and poisons on his head.

From Aka, a small mountain village east of Haven Academy.

Wields a flintlock rifle that can split into dual short katana and a sheath (Kamiyato).

Won't hesitate to use underhanded tactics to achieve victory. Spends an hour every day to meditate and plan in made-up scenarios. Has admitted he's already planned for every Huntsman he's met, including his own team.

Semblance is "Orochi," which projects up to two additional arms and legs made of aura.

Graduated Shade Academy with Team AMRY, but fled from Haven Academy in his third year after he was framed for murdering his best friend Raiden Oga.

Inspired by Orochimaru from the Japanese folktale of The Gallant Jiraiya.

[taeken-my-heart]

Charming Chapter 1

(Banner by the incredible @xjoonchildx​ ! Thank you so, so much. I love it!)

Summary: Prince Seokjin was as infuriating as he was beautiful. In line to one day be king, he requested your guidance in the ways of his people. In turn he will make you laugh, give your family fine gifts, and become an invaluable friend. Unfortunately, he will also make you fall in love with him. But the most unfortunate thing of all was his betrothal...to Snow White

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Fantasy, Angst, Snow white/au

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 4538

Warnings: None for this chapter. Future warnings are TW: Major character “death” TW: Thoughts of suicide TW: Attempted suicide. Nothing is graphically described. Chapters will be noted when these things take place. 

~~</3~~

It was during the spring that you felt the most content. Everything was reborn, blossoming from the frozen winter. The village came to life with music, new animals, and the sweet smell of fresh bread.

It had been this way since you were a child, no taller than your mother’s hip and only aware of how acutely you spurned the winter. With chapped fingers and lips, you watched bitterly as your friends, Peter and Else, played, squealing loudly as they threw snow at one another.

The three of you, friends since you could remember, filled to the brim with laughter, scraped knees, and all as plain looking as could be. This suited you fine, and there was little to disappoint you but short moments of impassioned arguments with your two best friends and a brief encounter with the very silly king and his very silly son.

As the only daughter (and indeed, the only child) of the villages master tailor, you found yourself often around the regal and ridiculous. So it was of no surprise when the king himself requested your father’s services and you were required to help him carry his materials to the castle where the king greeted you with his only heir, a son, wearing the silliest hat you’d ever laid eyes upon, a red feather sticking from the top.

You were as different as two people could be and with your simple manners and upbringing, you could not begin to understand the pomp and circumstance of such a silly little boy with rounded cheeks and a chest puffed much too high.

He strutted and flounced about the castle as a peacock would its park and the sight was all together ridiculous for your 9 year old eyes to behold. He’d called you peasant girl and remarked on your general lack of beauty and at 13 years old himself, you felt he had little to offer either, aside from a sizeable kingdom to trump the bed of straw and sheep’s skin you called your own.

For his 13th birthday, Prince Seokjin of Löhrenstein, would have a party, in which all the nobility and sovereigns of the land would be in attendance with their young princesses, and little duchesses, hoping to secure a treaty with his father, a contract between two kingdoms; a betrothal of a prince and a princess.

Of course, you would know nothing of this sort of formality or indeed the contracts of marriage. Your education was as broad as tending a home, carrying your father’s supplies, making flower crowns, and helping to herd the cows during the Viehscheid.

So while the prince was living in a castle and throwing parties and sneering down his nose at near everybody, you were busy helping your father to sew his clothes. At least you could still play in the fields when the sun was high and warm and the flowers were just beginning to bloom.

And this was how you spent your years, watching as Else became beautiful and elegant, long brown hair thick and wavy, tied back in braids as she went to work in the village at her father’s bakery and you watched in quiet envy as all the boys took notice, bringing her fine milks and cheeses as tokens of their affection while you stayed plain. Even Peter had become mildly handsome as he grew into his gangly limbs, erasing the once mousy appearance for a broad shouldered, sun freckled young man.

You told yourself you didn’t mind so much that you were still plain while she was beautiful, but of course you did a little. To be poor but beautiful afforded you more than being poor and plain. Peter often told you that you were just as beautiful as Else, and while you were happy with the compliment, you knew it was because of his childhood love and devotion to you.

You believed that was why he chose to become apprentice to your father, to someday seek your fathers blessing for your hand. While you did not love Peter the way that he loved you, you could not deny the appeal of continuing with the comforts that you were already accustomed to. After all, you were the only daughter to the king’s tailor…that did afford you some small comforts. You supposed someday when he asked for your hand, as he inevitably would, that you would accept.

When you turned 18, however; there was a small gift from the gods, in the form of a late blooming. A glow to your cheeks and a blossoming of beauty. You were, of course, no Else, but you could certainly hold your own and found that you had more than just Peter as an admirer; much to his chagrin.

Perhaps that’s why you feared that any day now he would ask for your father’s permission to court you because then your path as his future wife would be decided. You were in a strange position as the daughter of the king’s master tailor. You were neither peasant nor nobility so while your ability to choose your spouse was more under your control, you were still held to the standard of your father and who he deemed fit to represent his family, and in turn, the kings.

~~</3~~

The sun had just risen to its fullest height, waxing hot as it commandeered the sky, blue and shivering with the heat. It was sweltering and crowded in the square; noisy with life. The baker’s wife was out shouting, calling attention to the freshly baked rolls sitting just passed the door of the bakery. Else stood beside her father, batting her eyelashes and looking pretty; using charms her father could not to entice more customers and you smiled.

The sheep were drinking from the water trough in the center, surrounded by red and yellow poppies in full bloom. The clock tower struck one and you glanced up, eyeing the time wearily. You stood under the archway of a building painted green as a melon, hoping to escape some of the day’s heat.

A woman chased a boy from her garden, chickens flying around in aggravation and you peered after the child as he sulked down the lane, feet dirty and bare. “You hungry, boy?” You called and he looked to you, face caked with dirt from playing and a nod as answer. “Here.” You tossed him the apple you held in your hand and he thanked you, running back into the bustling of the town.

The crowd quivered with conversation and your attention was suddenly captured by the gossip of two young ladies as they passed you. “Yes, the king’s carriage has already left the castle. Apparently, the prince is to be fitted for a ball.”

“I wonder if we shall see him.” The other remarked and your eyes swung to the road, spotting the carriage, scarlet curtains billowing from the windows as it made its descent into town. You gasped, grabbing the skirts of your dress and dashing mad towards your home.

Your father would whip you if you were late. You ran through the fields, cutting through tall shrubs and across dirt paths. A childhood spent playing in this winding village afforded you the intimate knowledge of all its byways.  

You arrived at your home, gasping and covered in dirt and your mother came out, fussing loudly over your appearance, bustling you into the home and towards your room. Your father sighed loudly as you passed, eyes scanning your dress, soiled with the toil of your morning.

“This is no way to greet your king.” He remarks as your mother pulls you behind the wooden room divider, helping you to strip from your clothing and wiping you down quickly with a wet wash cloth.

“My dear, you are not fit to be seen!” Your mother scolded, washing roughly at your face and you grimaced, shivering in the chill of the room. “You knew they were coming today.”

“They are early.” You complained and your mother’s lips smacked in irritation.

“A king is never early. He always arrives exactly when he means to. You would do well to remember that, Y/N.”

Your mother helped you to dress in something new quickly, repinning the last piece of your hair just as the crunch of gravel from the royal carriage wheels could be heard rounding the corner and the two of you rushed from the room and to the front door to wait with your father.

You took a deep breath, head bowed into your chest as you heard the carriage come to a stop in front of you. It was abnormal for the king to come to your home, far too busy with his royal duties to condescend to see a peasant, but his son and only heir had recently returned from…well, to be sure, you did not know where he actually had been, but rumor said he was poorly behaved and had gone somewhere far away to teach him the ways of a king.

This would not surprise you, were it true; he’d been a ghastly child. You could only imagine him now, in adulthood. Upon his return, his father had announced his desire to reacquaint his son with their kingdom and your father being his master tailor would receive the special privilege of his presence, it seemed.

The king stepped from the carriage first, and you watched his feet move towards your family.

“Your majesty!” Your father bowed and pleasantries were exchanged as the prince himself disembarked from the carriage.

You kept your eyes trained fast on the ground; the bottom of your dress already smudged with dirt from where you stood.

“My son,” The king announced and your father bowed once more, both your mother and yourself curtsying deep.

“You remember my wife and my daughter?” Your father said and it was now that you felt it was safe to lift your eyes from the ground.

“My, yes,” Said the king turning his gaze towards you, “you have grown well, girl.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” You replied, soft; bowing your head and he smiled, pleased.

“You remember my son?” He asked, pointing his hand to the figure by his side and you allowed your eyes to slide over to him.

It is unfortunate, in this life; that some people are just born with everything the heart could desire. Good fortune, health, money and comfort and to have all that and still be handsome? Well, truly life was unfair.

He stood tall, face angular with deep set brown eyes and rounded lips. You were under no illusion that he was anything but blessed by the gods. They must have looked upon him very favorably, indeed.

“Yes, your highness.”

The prince looked at you curiously, head curved to the side as your father beckoned them into your home and you watched the king and prince follow after him. You heated with shame as you entered after, watching the prince survey your home while your father and the king conversed.

He must think this was so beneath him; to stand in the home of a pauper. The floor, though it had been swept, was still covered in a layer of dirt and the furniture was old and matted, worn with use. You had more than others in your village, but compared to a king, this was true poverty. It must have seemed you had nothing at all.

“Seokjin, come look at these colors.” The king beckoned and the prince was quick to walk to his side, looking over the fabric your father had assembled as options for his ball.

“These are exquisite.” He remarked, voice low and serious. “I wonder, sir, my father says you will come to the castle tomorrow to prepare my clothing.”

“Yes, your highness, with my apprentice in training, Peter.”

The prince’s eyes flickered to you in surprise and you looked back down at the floor. “Not your daughter? I remember she used to join you when I was a boy.”

“Yes, my daughter would come to help me carry my things, but since I have acquired an apprentice, I have found that quite unnecessary.”

“I would very much like if you would bring her tomorrow, along with your apprentice, of course.” The prince smiled and you couldn’t help but look up in surprise.

“A woman?” The king laughed, loud and joyful and you bowed your head once more, flushed with shame. “What purpose would a woman have in a man’s business? She should stay here and help tend the home, Seokjin. Don’t be unreasonable.”

“I should very much like to have her return to the castle, for reminiscence sake, father. That is, if her mother can spare her.”

“Of course, your majesty.” She bowed.

“She can carry some of the fabric.” The prince smiled, eyes flickering to your bowed head, “like when she was a child.”

“You have a very strange sense of humor.” The king chortled and you closed your eyes, willing the humiliation from you. “Very well then, we shall see you on the morrow with your apprentice and your daughter. You know the time, I presume?”

“Yes, of course, your majesty.” Your father smiled, escorting them out the door and your mother and you stood in the kitchen, eyes trained on the floor.

So, it would seem he had not changed. Like a dog at his table, you had been summoned. So amusing, was it, to watch a woman carry fabric and needles for a man and stand in the background. Always to be seen, but never to be heard.

Your heart bled with the thought and you listened carefully as the carriage resumed its journey. Your father stepped through the threshold of your home and you could feel his eyes on the crown of your head.

“Now come, girl, there is no need to be so downtrodden.” Your father remarked lightly and your throat burned with emotion.

“Y/N.” Your mother said softly and you shook your head, turning to walk away.

“I wish to be alone.” You murmured, fleeing to your room.

The window was open, soft breeze fluttering through the soft white curtains, now dirtied from the dust of the road. You closed your bedroom door softly behind you, walking towards the window where you sat at your stool.

Laying your arm across the lip of your window, you rested your chin in the palm of your hand and sighed. To feel like a bartering chip in the world of men was difficult. To never be in charge of your own destiny. Destiny, for you, was to be nice to look at and the ability to spread your legs. You wanted more than that; wanted to be heard, wanted your thoughts and feelings to be considered.

A knock at your door called your attention and your mother stepped through the door, smiling softly. “It is an honor to be called back to the castle.” She remarked and you sighed once again, returning your gaze back out the window.

“Mother.” You frowned and she sat down on your bed. “You should understand…as a woman. We’re not objects to be played with.”

“My dear,” she tutted and you looked over at her. “Men are simple creatures, if they’ve nothing to look at, they don’t know what to do with themselves.”

You chuckled, sitting up straighter, hands dropping into your lap. “Then what are we to do with them, mother?”

“We guide them, darling. They like to feel useful, so we help them feel so. We know our worth, we don’t need to be reminded. Men, they need to feel powerful; what else do they have? They may be the head of the family, but we are the neck and they turn where we will it.”

“I have the feeling a prince would be harder to guide.” You smiled and she shrugged.

“Perhaps. It just makes it more fun; more of a challenge.”

You frowned, staring back out the window and into the forest just beyond your gate. The air rippled with heat and you watched as a rabbit hopped from your garden and into the shade. “I don’t want to go, mother.” You admitted.

Your mother’s fingers closed around your hand at the window and you turned to look at her. “My dear…I’m afraid you’ve no choice.”

~~</3~~

The morning was hotter than usual and your dress stuck uncomfortable to your back. Peter was thrilled at the prospect of meeting the king and you realized belatedly that he’d never met him before. As the daughter of the king’s master tailor, you were in a unique position within society; neither pauper nor noble.

You’d had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting both the king and his son and you didn’t particularly care for either. “Imagine the palace, Y/N.” Peter sighed, eyes distant and smile pleasant as he threw an arm around your shoulder.

“I don’t need to imagine it.” You huffed, pushing his arm from your shoulder and readjusting the wrappings of fabric in your arms. “I’ve been there, remember?”

“Yes, I do. You never told me much about it, though. Always so secretive.”

You watched as he paused, tucking the edges of the tarp back around the rest of the fabric on the cart before resuming the journey. Your father walked steadily in front of the two of you.

“It was never a secret, I just didn’t particularly enjoy my time there.” You said carefully, eyes focused on the back of your fathers head. He’d beat you if you misspoke of the king.

“Yes, you did mention the prince was rather…interesting.”

“It seems nothing has changed.” You hummed softly, staring down at your feet, dusted yellow from the road.

“Then why are you coming today? If you dislike the prince, why come?” Peter questioned. The castle came into view, large and imposing against the backdrop of the mountains. White brick stood tall, the spires topped with a deep blue and for a moment you allowed yourself to admire the view.

Though the people within the castle were not to your taste, the palace itself was beautiful. Draped on every side by the mountain range and a large lake nestled in its cove, it was one of life’s true pleasures, gazing at its majesty.

“I think you will find, Peter, that I don’t have much of a choice. The prince requested his jester.” You replied, the words bitter on your tongue.

Your father called Peter forward and you spent the rest of the walk in silence, listening to the creak of the cart’s wheels as they cracked over rubble and dirt. Your mother had attempted to make you look pretty today, though you could not think why; presentable should be good enough for any man who wasn’t looking to choose a wife.

Your hair had been done and pinned beautifully, your most beautiful dress resting against your skin. It was certainly nothing to a noble, to be sure, but it was not unpleasant to look at and flattered the shape of your body.

It was hot, though, unbearably so, and you suffered dearly under the harsh rays of the late spring sun. Your mother insisted beauty had a price, but you weren’t quite sure why you were being asked to pay it.

The shade of the drawbridge was a welcome relief and you pulled a handkerchief from your bag and mopped at your face and neck. You didn’t need to offer the prince anymore reason to mock you.

You were escorted to the kings fitting rooms where you gently placed the fabric from your arms on top of what your father and Peter had carried from the cart. You patted at your neck once more as you watched Peter’s eyes scan the room excitedly. Absently you wondered if your father had taught him how to behave when the king was in the room.

Your father motioned you over and you slipped your handkerchief back in your bag and went to stand by his side. It wasn’t long before the king entered and you curtseyed deep, eyes trained on the floor.

He and your father spoke loudly as introductions were made and you could practically feel Peter vibrating from where he stood. He was excited, at least. You resisted the urge to pat at your cheeks, flushed with heat from the walk. Your throat felt like sand, dry as you swallowed and you wished more than anything for some water.

The men spoke noisily as they congregated around the fabric and it was decided that the king would be fitted first. You waited quietly as your father began his measurements, your fingers bunching tight in the fabric of your dress.

The room was overly warm, large windows allowing the sun to enter liberally and you felt yourself wilting in the heat. Voices muffling like you were under water, you watched as the gold, cerulean and cobalt of the room became nothing more than puddles of grey before fading into black.

~~</3~~

Your brow felt cool, wet with the brush of a damp cloth and your eyelashes fluttered open, taking in the surrounding room.

Deep mahogany filled your vision, blue and white canopy drapes traveling the length of the rail. Walls painted in beautiful scenery drew your gaze and you reached up to feel the cloth against your brow.

“You’re awake.”

You inhaled sharp, turning to find the source of the voice. You were surprised to find the prince sat beside you, a basin of water resting on a table next to him and a small smile as greeting.

“I’m sorry to have startled you.” He said softly and you lowered your hand, attempting to sit up. “Please remain as you are, Y/N. You need just a moment to recover.”

“What happened? Where am I?”

“You are in one of the spare bedrooms in the palace. It seems you over heated and became faint.”

You closed your eyes tight, shame filling your breast. It was one thing to faint in general, but in front of the king and his son. Mortification was a bitter friend.

“Where is the doctor?” You asked carefully, peaking one eye open and glancing around the room. The prince smiled, watching as your gaze flitted everywhere but him.

“I asked him to step outside for a moment. I wanted to make sure for myself that you were well.” He replied, watching your brows furrow in thought.

“Why is that, your majesty?” You pondered, looking up at him and he removed the cloth from your head, soaking it back in the basin before wringing it anew and placing it back against your brow.

“We are old friends, are we not?”

He stared down at his lap, seemingly unsure himself of his statement and your mouth parted in surprise. “You would consider us friends, your highness?”

The prince smiled, wry, before chuckling with a shrug. “Perhaps friends is too liberal of a word. I know I wasn’t the most…pleasant to be around when I was a child. I was selfish and cruel and it’s why my father sent me away. I’m very sorry to have ever been cause for discomfort.”

He paused to gauge your reaction but at the moment you weren’t sure what to think. It had seemed so unlikely to ever receive an apology and now that you had it, you weren’t quite sure what to make of it.

“I was hoping we could begin again…become real friends.” He admitted.

“Please pardon my confusion, but I find myself very surprised. Why would you wish to be friends with a pauper, your majesty?” You finally asked, looking over at him and his smile was gentle, gaze shifting to the open window, the afternoon’s breeze composing a dance among the curtains.

“You are not a pauper, Y/N” He said, watching as a small starling landed on the balcony, head twisting side to side as it chattered excitedly. “But even if you were, I would still wish to have your friendship. It is my father’s intention to make me king someday and after so many years as a selfish child, I am ashamed to admit that I know nothing of the people in my kingdom. The sorrows, the trials, the joys…I want to be a good king. I want people to know they can depend on me to help, even if I’m not perfect or don’t always have the answers. I want my people to trust me.”

You watched the starling yourself now, hopping across the wood of the balcony, a song puffing his chest wide. “And you think I can help you with that?” You asked softly, watching as the bird resumed flight and soared into the distance.

The prince looked back down at you, reaching his hand out to press against your cheek and you flinched. “My apologies, I only meant to see if your skin was still flushed. May I?”

You nodded, watching as his fingers extended back to your face, the back of his hand pressing gently across your cheek and neck. He hummed, retracting his hand and smiled. “Your temperature has reduced. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You admitted, “Though I would love to have some water.”

“Yes, of course, I will have some fetched for you. Can I help you sit up?”

He held his hands out for you and you allowed him to pull you gently into an upright position. The world spun for a moment before settling and he moved to the door, calling for a water.

“As an answer to your earlier question,” he said, coming to sit across from you once again and you watched as he set the cloth and basin further away from the bed, “Not only do I wish to make amends, but I want to learn about my people and my kingdom and I believe that spending time with someone who knows the kingdom so well could only benefit that cause.”

“Spending time with me?” You questioned before pausing as a maid entered the room, handing the prince the water before leaving the room once more, door closed tightly behind her.

“Here,” he said, handing you the water which you took happily, clear and cool to the taste. “Yes, spending time with you. Getting to know all about you and my people.”

He paused to allow you a moment to think and you took the opportunity to finish your water, staring down into the cup once you’d allowed it to settle in your lap. It seemed unreasonable to refuse his offer if he really was trying to make a change.

The kingdom could only benefit from having their future king know them and care for their well being. Perhaps the prince would make a very decent king after all, not the tyrant you’d assumed as a child.

“What say you?” He asked gently, holding his hand out for your glass and setting it on the table with the basin.

You looked up at him with a nod, smile tucked in the corner of your lips. “Very well. I can’t see how it would hurt. I will do as you request, your majesty.”

“Wonderful.” He smiled. “And please, call me Jin.”

~~</3~~

OK, here’s the latest series! I’m unsure of how many parts this will have, at least three. I hope you enjoy it and please send in your feedback, I’d love to hear your thoughts <3

Next

Copyright © 2019 by Taeken-My-Heart. All rights reserved.

[nature-and-music]

Magick Tricks - Chapter 1

Authors’ note - This is a collaborated story written by @kashmir-baby  and @nature-and-music involving Led Zeppelin going to a Renaissance Pleasure Faire.  The year is 1975, hours before they play at a nearby venue.  Robert encourages his mates to dress up and head off to a Renaissance Faire.  The festivities are a blast for all of them, except for Jimmy who isn’t all too pleased with his costume (chosen by Robert) or the outing itself.  However something later on catches his eye and bewitches him. Please keep in mind that this is a fictitious scenario and this story is purely written with humorous intentions and later on nsfw between adults (Jimmy x Female oc).  If you are under the age of 18, please click away and do not read any further.  

Our collab was quite long, so we had to break it up into chapters.  @nature-and-music will be uploading the odd chapters and the epilogue. @kashmirbaby will be uploading the even chapters.  We will provide the continuing chapters at the bottom and the previous chapters at the top.

Chapter 1 - Led Zeppelin Crashes the Renaissance Faire

Adjustments and lacing up of costumes seemed like such a hassle. However everything had to be done to ensure that they were prepared for the festivities today.  With just a few more added details and props, they were ready to depart.

“Robert, please remind me again why we’re doing this?” Jimmy pondered as he looked at himself in the mirror. The tufts of his snow white beard hanging just below his chest.

“Jimmy, it’s the Renaissance Pleasure Faire. It’s a wonderful thing that people enjoy doing for fun,” Robert explained as he placed his sword into the holster; tugging out the wrinkles of the sun illustration upon his surcoat. 

“I look ridiculous with this beard and hat,” Jimmy muttered. 

“Well you do need a staff. You can’t be a proper wizard unless you have that,” Jonesy added, tuning the strings on his lute. 

“More like a walking stick. Isn’t that right, grandfather?” Bonzo quipped, laughing as he practiced swinging his axe, nearly causing his horned helmet to topple over. 

“First of all, a proper wizard would never wear this.  Secondly, you’re no proper Viking, John! In fact they didn’t exist at that point in history,” Jimmy rebutted, squinting his eyes at the large man. 

“Who cares about historical accuracy? Frankly, I wanna get there and start drinkin’,” Bonzo retorted, getting very close to Jimmy. 

Quickly Jonesy stepped between his mates, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “Here now, let’s take it easy, lads. Come on, we’re going to have fun today.”

“That’s right, and perhaps if any of us are lucky, we may even find a fair maiden to share the day with,” Robert delightfully added, as he swished his golden locks.

“Just, please try not to do anything stupid. That goes for everyone here,” Jonesy emphasized looking at all three of them.

“I highly doubt a serf boy is going to do much anyhow,” Jimmy snickered. 

“Minstrel, Jimmy.  I am a minstrel, as clearly indicated by my instrument of choice.”

“Right. Robert – really. Are you done? The sooner we leave the sooner this is over.” 

“Yes, yes, yes, Jimmy,” Robert said gleefully as he admired himself one last time, tossing his curls and straightening the costume he was so proud of. “Let’s go.”

The boys left Robert’s hotel room and made their way towards the elevator. “God, this is embarrassing,” Jimmy said, as two attractive guests squeezed in after them. “Hello.” The elevators opened on the first floor, and they walked out to the awaiting car.

“Watch my cape,” Jimmy snapped at Bonzo as they climbed in.  

“I’m hoping you’ll be more fun when you’re drunk,” Bonzo replied, pulling a flask from somewhere within his tunic and waving it at him. “Suit yourself,” he said as Jimmy shook his head no.

Robert chattered excitedly about everything he read of the Faire during the car ride, while the others nodded, half-listening.  Jimmy fiddled with his wizard’s beard, as Bonzo emptied his flask.

“I can’t listen to you anymore,” Bonzo said, interrupting Robert. “Jonesy, play something on that flute!”

“I don’t have a flute, I have a lute.”

“Fine. Give it here then, and I’ll play it!” Bonzo said, lunging over Jimmy as he tried to snatch the lute from Jonesy.

“Bonzo, Bonzo, my beard. My beard!” Jimmy yelled, as Jonesy quickly pulled the lute out of reach.

“Why is everyone so touchy today?” Robert asked, shaking his head. 

“So, did Crowley play dress up too? What would he think of your, uh, getup if he ran into you today?” Bonzo could barely finish speaking before he burst out in laughter. 

“Aleister Crowley was a misunderstood genius of the 20th century. You’ve just proven it with your unsolicited commentary. He was not a conjurer of cheap tricks waving some wooden wand around.”

“I don’t know how you get women into bed at all with that talk, Jim,” Bonzo retorted. 

“For your information, Crowley recognized that sexual energy is the most powerful force in the universe…and that line does pretty well,” Jimmy said matter-of-factly. 

“Ah, so this whole sex magick trick is a ploy to get them into bed.”

“I’m not saying anything more on the subject.” Jimmy snapped. He had tensed up, and the boys spent the rest of the car ride in silence.

Robert was the first to break the tension, totally oblivious to the tension in the car. “Oh look, I can see the parking lot. We’ve arrived! Bonzo, behave, yeah? I’ll buy you your first beer.”

Robert threw the car door open and briskly walked towards the entrance, turning every so often as he awaited for the rest to catch up.

“The things I do for you, Robert,” Jimmy called, trailing behind them.

“Jimmy, I’ve already told you that everybody dresses up – look around. And let’s go! They’ll close by the time you lot make it inside!”

Robert led the way as they shuffled amongst a colorful crowd, towards the arches of the fake castle wall that had been built for the event.

“Renaissance Pleasure Faire,” Jonesy said, reading the sign that was perched above the archway. “Well at least they’re original.”  

“Look at all the lovely costumes!” Robert said excitedly as he looked around, ignoring Jonesy’s jab. 

The grounds were filled with all manner of tented shoppes, stages for performing, and fenced off spaces for physical activities such as archery and sword fighting.  Ribbons billowing in the wind upon the buildings with which they were tied to, the scents of freshly made meals wafted about, and lively music echoed throughout.  Vendors were selling their goods from handmade jewelry and statues made of steel, copper, and wood, depicting creatures both real and mystical. Weapons were crafted before curious audiences that gathered at the blacksmiths’ corner.  All manner of drapery and costumes made from the finest of materials were displayed.  This truly was heaven for anyone who harbored a love for anything that involved fantasy and myth; Robert fell in love with such a place.  Jonesy couldn’t help but smile, there was something about this site that enamored him as well.  A group of mighty vikings had noticed Bonzo, they raised their weapons and gave their fellow warrior a mighty roar; he responded as well, turns out he couldn’t help himself either.  Jimmy, however, may have required a bit more convincing, somehow the magick of the faire was hardly affecting him.

“Cheer up Jimmy, this is actually a really nice venue,” Jonesy noted. 

“Maybe we just need to get him a spellbook.  That way he can actually enjoy himself,” Bonzo added; the wizard rolled his eyes, but remained silent.

Removing his sword from the holster, Robert pointed his blade and cried out, “Well come on, let us venture onward!”

“What about my beer?” Bonzo nonchalantly reminded the ecstatic knight.

“Onward to mead!” Robert rephrased happily.

The little fellowship walked the grounds, taking notice of the sights and hearing the music as they tread the dusty earth.  They finally reached the eateries and headed straight for a booth selling mead.  Perhaps it was the rather gregarious set up of the mead station, or the rather lovely women in their low bodice gowns that were selling the pints.  Whatever drew them to this particular stand, the four of them stood in line ready to purchase.  Jimmy noticed a glass jar with paper bills and coins, with a little sign that read, “Be generous and generosity will be gifted to thee.”  Reaching into his satchel, he placed a few coins into the jar.  Suddenly, as if on cue, the woman completing their transaction jumped for joy and clapped her hands.

“Huzzah to our gracious giver! Huzzah!” 

As if under a trance, Jimmy kept a watchful eye on the rather buxom maiden leaping; the way her body would rise momentarily and give in to gravity once more.  He smiled nervously and chuckled quietly, she was quite captivating.  A nudge to his side forced him back to reality, to which Robert placed a couple of bills into the jar with his other arm, giving her a wink and a blown kiss.  After finishing the phrase once more and grabbing the air for his “kiss”, she arched herself closer to Robert.  

“Ooh, thank you brave sir knight, I will keep your kiss in my heart,” she seductively whispered as she opened her fist and splayed her palm upon her cleavage; giving him a little shimmey.

“Hey! If you two are done, we have drinks to guzzle down!” Bonzo shouted, seizing Robert by the arm, being careful to not spill his pint; Jimmy followed closely behind.

Jimmy looked over his shoulder and noticed that she blew him a kiss, giving him a little bounce, and a farewell shake.   

“Now I see why ‘Pleasure’ is in the title,” he laughed.  

Chapter 2: https://kashmir-baby.tumblr.com/post/636152384435994624/magick-tricks-chapter-2

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 13

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Fluff, curse words, a little bit of NSFW - If you are under 18 please do not read!

Word Count: 6,700

A/N: I know nothing about the lives of the Evans family and mean no harm. This is purely fiction and for fun. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! The tag list is now closed. Each chapter tends to get reblogged from me a few times, so if you’re following me, you can’t miss it.  

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with Chapter 12

**

The boys had no clue about your plan. Frankly, no one knew what your plan was. You weren’t trying to be secretive, no, you just didn’t want all the fuss. One week was more than enough time to host someone in your home. Two weeks was outlandish. You would simply tell them later in the week that you were staying in Boston for an additional week. On your own.

You had rented a one bedroom apartment in the city near the harbor. Chris had been putting a lot of extra effort into your relationship recently by coming to stay with you every few weeks. You wanted to see if Boston was a place you could see yourself spending a lot of time in. Staying with Scott or Chris for the second week wouldn’t really allow for you to see if you could be comfortable there by yourself. You wanted to check out the coffee shops, parks, and small eateries. You had read through numerous travel sites and blogs by locals who boasted the neighborhoods that were not only hip, but had low crime rates.

Chris had gone back to Massachusetts from his latest visit just over a week ago and you had already begun to miss him. When he sent you a text three days after leaving, telling you he was missing you, you instantly felt relieved. The two of you had spent a lot of time talking on his visits which ultimately brought you closer. He slept in your bed all three days of this last trip, never pressing for more than a cuddle and a few kisses. Chris spent a great amount of time talking with you into the early morning hours about how it would be when he was away filming. The two of you would need to survive on Skype or Facetime as he was often away for months at a time. He said that you could visit him on set, but your time together would be limited.

The additional week in Boston was born from the vacation time you had to use or lose with the Orlando Sentinel. Asia was quick to agree that your start date with News Now could begin a few days after you returned from your trip. Having the ability to work from anywhere was a huge positive. Your lease would be coming up for renewal in February and you were honestly struggling with staying or leaving Orlando.

Central Florida had been your home for sixteen years, but you were still only renting. That had to mean something. You didn’t miss the long winters of Minnesota, but you did miss your family. Minnesota felt safe and comfortable for a place to start over again, but you still weren’t sure that was the right step for you. Logically, it was too soon to move to Boston. You were never the girl to move somewhere for a guy. Chris was one of the people closest to you, but the two of you were barely a couple. But why the hell was your heart telling you to give it a shot? At least you had a couple of months to figure it all out.

**

You had swung by Krispy Kreme on the way to Jana’s office armed with a coupon for half off a dozen. Not that you needed a dozen donuts, but a deal was a deal. That’s how you’d always been. You weren’t one of those coupon clippers, but you always shopped on sale and always looked in the clearance section. If there was a bargain to be had, you were a willing participant. This is why even looking at places to rent for the long term in Boston frightened you. Sticker shock was an understatement. You could buy a new, large family home in the suburbs of Minneapolis for the same price you could purchase a studio apartment in Boston. Technically, you could look outside of the city, but that’s something you’d have to think about later when a decision needed to be made.

“I brought food,” you greeted her, shoving the box in her face as she signed you in to the building.

“That’s not food.”

“You can eat it Jana. I’m pretty sure Brooks consumes these five days a week.”

“Fine. Maybe just one,” she replied, reaching into the box and pulling out a glazed one once you got to her office. You gave her a satisfied smirk before grabbing one for yourself. “You ready to work with Brooks again?”

“Is one ever ready? But seriously, I didn’t exactly work with him when he was at the paper so even now I still won’t see him,” you shrugged, taking a huge bite and promptly licking your fingers to Jana’s dismay.

“When are you starting again?”

“Like the twenty eighth. Some time that week. I’m going to try to have something to submit that week. Maybe about my time in Boston. Who knows?”

“You call me the workaholic, yet you’re working on vacation,” Jana said.

“Well, I’m nervous as shit, so I just want to be ready to go with something.”

With promises of dinner together when you returned, you left her office with the box of donuts in hand. Rather than heading straight for the elevator, you decided to stop by Ethan’s office. His door was open, but he was engrossed in a law book.    

“Hey,” you called out loud enough for him to hear you but soft enough not to startle him.

He looked up, grinning when he saw it was you. “How are you?”

“Good. I’ve come to tempt you with sugar,” you said holding up the box.

“No bribing needed. Whaddaya got?”

“A little bit of everything,” you said, stepping into the room and placing the box on the desk. You opened it for him to pick. He quickly pulled out one of the custard filled ones, moaning at the taste.

“Thank you,” he murmured, mouth still full.

You gave him an honest smile. Speaking to him the last time you were in the office really got rid of that tension about seeing him.

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“How much time do you have?” you asked.

“For you? As much as you need.” He gestured to one of the empty chairs in front of his desk.

You told him about the new job and how much you were looking forward to the change. You left out the part about possibly moving since nothing was set in stone, so there was no need to get into that.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he started, you giving him a questioning look. “When I said that stupid thing about your job. 100% didn’t mean it. I was just angry and I aimed low. You’re a great writer. I read everything you wrote when we were together, and I still read it today.”

You gave him a small smile. “Thanks for saying that. And you still read it?” you asked surprisingly.

“Got to get my Disney news from a reliable source,” he shrugs.

**

Boston’s weather seems to be all over the place with predictions for the next two weeks being anywhere from the fifties to the low seventies. You packed a large suitcase and your trusty leather carryon with a few sweaters, sweatshirts, t-shirts, jeans, leggings and a couple pairs of short boots. You’ll wear your sneakers to the airport. At least that’s one less thing to pack. You’re staying with Scott and Zach, but you toy over bringing your cute yet flirty pajamas and lingerie. You and Chris aren’t exclusive, at least not technically. He told you he isn’t seeing anyone else and isn’t planning on either. But the words boyfriend and girlfriend or partner haven’t been uttered. Taking a guess, he’s most likely waiting for you to say it since he doesn’t want to push you. You’re not even sure how much you’ll be seeing him this trip. He said he’ll be around, but never made actual plans with you. Picking up your cell, you shot him a text.

Y/N: When am I seeing you in Boston.

Chris: All the time?

The fact that he adds that question mark makes you laugh.

Y/N: Well, we never made plans, so I wasn’t sure if you have stuff going on all week.

Chris: You’re such a dork. You’re coming to my town and you have to question when you’re going to see me?

Y/N: I thought it was Scott’s town, you know, since I’m staying with him.

Chris: What?!

Chris: That’s not fair. You didn’t even give me the chance to offer 😔

Y/N: My poor baby. I’ll be sure to kiss it all better.

Chris: You better

Yep, you were packing the cute underwear.

**

You sent Scott a text as soon as you landed.

Scott: On my way. White BMW.

Grabbing your bag from the conveyer belt, you grabbed a coffee before going out to short term parking where he said he’d meet you. The temperature was a cool sixty-three degrees, so you were dressed in a cozy hunter green sweater, jeans, and browns boots. You thought about throwing on a jacket, but figured the boys would tease you. Minnesota you would have teased you, but you’d been in Florida too long now. Sixty was cold.

Crossing over to the ramp, you looked around for a white BMW as instructed. A sudden honk jolted you, causing coffee to spurt out through the cup’s cover.

“Mother fucker!” you whispered to yourself.

The offending driver jumped out of the car, jogging toward you. “Shit! Sorry!” It was Chris rather than Scott. NASA hat on his head, Pats sweatshirt, and jeans. The epitome of casual, yet it he looked good.

When does he not look good?

“You scared the shit out of me,” you said, dropping your carryon to the ground and hugging him with your free hand. “I should be smacking you rather than hugging you.”

“M’sorry. Wanted to surprise you,” he said pulling away.

You kissed the pout on his lips, Chris smiling as soon you pulled back. He bent down grabbing your bag from the ground and then grabbed the handle on your suitcase. You followed behind him, admiring the view.

He really is America’s Ass.

The drive to Scott’s didn’t take long. He had a large two-bedroom condo in the city. Parking was a challenge, but Scott had purchased a second spot a year ago and since Zach wasn’t’ home, Chris parked there.

He grabbed your two bags while you easily toted your purse and now empty coffee cup into the building’s entrance and up the elevator. Chris walked in without knocking, but you supposed Scott knew you were coming since you did text him when you landed.

“I brought you a gift!” Chris called out.

Scott walked into the entry and living room giving you a big smile. “Oh. Is there a return policy?”

“You are such a brat!” you spat out. “Does your mother have room at her place? Feel like I’d getting a warmer welcome there.”

“Sassy, don’t give me no lip. You know I love you,” Scott said, pulling you into a hug. You let your arms hang to give him that bit of attitude, plus you still had your purse and cup in hand.

“Ahuh, love you too,” you replied.

Scott showed you to your room for the week while Chris followed behind, setting your bags on the floor. Light blue walls with dark wood furniture made up the room. A queen size bed placed in the center with a chest of drawers sat on the opposite wall. A relatively large flat screen TV mounted to the wall above the chest. On each side of the bed were a matching set of night stands. A vase of white daisies sat on the right-hand side.

“Bathroom is across the hall. Dinner is at six. Don’t be late. No fucking in your room,” he said, pointing between you and Chris, closing the door as he left. “Or at least be quiet about it,” he said through the door.

Chris looked at you with raised eyebrows while you shook your head. “Uh, we don’t have to,” he said.

“Well, definitely not now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, totally. That’s just Scott,” Chris said, shrugging. He was nervous and it made you smile.

Chris stayed for dinner but left around eight kissing you breathless before wishing you a goodnight.

**

Scott, Zach and yourself hit the road early starting with the Freedom Trail, making sure to see the graves of Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Paul Revere before stopping at the Old State House. Chris had wanted to join the three of you, but when you mentioned he would draw in a crowd being that you would be surrounded by tourists, he was quick to change his mind.

Scott brought you to Beacon Hill where you fell in love with the architecture of the beautiful brick homes. When he told you the average price, you choked on your breath, quickly deciding it wasn’t anywhere you would be able to live.

You moved on to Charles Street, stopping in a few shops to buy something for Jana as well as yourself. When it was time for lunch, Scott and Zach brought you to Cheers bar on Beacon Hill. Scott told you there actually two locations, this one was used for the exterior shots for the show. It was everything you imagined it would be. You were too young to enjoy the show when it aired originally, but picked up on the reruns when you were in your late twenties.

Harvard University was as grand and as beautiful as you imagined it would be bathed in the gorgeousness that is fall. You treated to the boys to ice cream, finding a nice spot on a grassy lawn filled with students and tourists alike. Scott took a few pictures of you with ice cream cone in hand and red and orange leaves all around you. You did the same for each of them. The spontaneous photoshoot turned into a leaf fight as Zach dumped a large handful on Scott’s head.

**

Nervous seemed like such an inadequate word to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t even a nail biter but you couldn’t keep your thumb out of your mouth as you chewed the corner repeatedly.

“Would you stop it? You’ve met her,” Scott said, taking his eyes off the road briefly to look at you.

“Yeah and she thought I was some floozy.” Scott snorted. “Do people still say floozy?”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t. And you know that’s because she didn’t know you were you. It’ll be fine. She loves you. I talk about you all the time. Well, not all the time, but I talk about you and she loves you.” You took a deep breath. “Now keep that finger out of your mouth. She will judge you for jagged fingernails.”

“Such a brat,” you said softly.

“Me? Do I need to have Chris take you and all your luggage back to his place tonight? Why’d you pack so much anyway? Must’ve packed like three winter coats or somethin’.”

“Shuddup,” you murmured. You’d only been in town for four nights and weren’t planning on having this conversation until Friday. “Was going to tell you later, but might as well tell you now. But do not tell Chris. I will tell him later,” you warned.

“Sounds serious,” he said.

“You know how with this new job I can pretty much work from where ever I’d like?” Scott nodded his head. “I’m still trying to figure that all out. Not that I don’t love Florida. Jana and Brooks are my family there, but I’m thinking it might be time to make a change. I thought about Minnesota since my parents and brother are there, but I also wanted to see how I’d like Boston.”

“What are you gettin’ at Y/N?”

“I’m staying in town next week. I rented an apartment to see if I feel comfortable here.”

Scott let out a low whistle. “Chris is going to be pissed,” he sing-songed the last word.

“You think?” you asked.

“Oh yeah.”

“Like pissed because I’ve thought about maybe splitting my time here or moving here?”

“Oh god, no. He’d probably love the fuck out of that. He’s going to be pissed you aren’t staying with him.”

You didn’t even think of that. The idea of having your own space to see if you’d like being here was still the right decision, but he was right. Chris would probably be upset you didn’t tell him what you were thinking. And he’d probably be mad you weren’t staying with him.

“Shuddup,” you said again.

**

“Ma! Your favorite son and Sassy are here,” Scott called out after opening the front door to his mother’s house.

“I’m already here,” Chris called from what looked like the kitchen. He walked into the entryway pulling you into a hug. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me at breakfast,” you replied, kissing his lips quickly before anyone else came in the room.

“Still missed you.” He interlaced your fingers and pulled you toward the kitchen. “Cah’mon.”

Lisa, the boy’s mother was in front of the stove, a few pans sizzling on the burners. It smelled delicious, so you knew you were in for a good meal.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you again. How are you enjoying your stay?” she said turning to face you.

It was all so formal, you instantly jumped into interview mode.

“It’s been quite wonderful. Scott’s been a great host,” you replied.

She smiled warmly and went back to her pans.

“When are the girls getting here?” Scott asked.

“Should be here soon. Why don’t the three of you show Y/N around?”

Chris gave you the tour while Scott plopped himself on the sofa in the family room.

“And this was my room,” he said, opening the door. It was set up as a guestroom with a full-size bed pressed against the center of the far wall.

“So, is this where the Sandra Bullock poster used to hang?” you said pointing at the ceiling.

“Et tu, Brute? Never going to live that down.” Chis said, shaking his head.

“Oh, everyone does it babe. I’m pretty sure I had a couple of NSYNC pictures torn from magazines hanging on my walls. I know I had one of Joey Lawrence.”

“Joey Lawrence?” he chuckled.

“He looked good in Blossom when I was a kid. He had great hair.”

“Yeah? What do you think of my hair?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, giving the end a slight tug. “This hair?” you said softly, your face close to his. “This hair, I can’t get enough of. Probably the sexiest head I’ve seen in a week.”

“A week? You runnin’ your fingers through someone else’s hair?” he asked, his breath hot against your lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He pressed his lips against yours. Arms instantly tugging you closer while you kept one hand in his hair and the other around his neck. Kissing Chris would never get old. He walked backwards until his legs hit the edge of the mattress, lowering himself down and pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands instantly going to your ass as he pulled you to straddle him closer. A moan broke from your throat, catching you off guard.

“That’s it baby,” Chris whispered, lips attaching themselves to your jaw.

Instantly you were reminded that you were indeed in his mother’s house. The same mother who thought you were just a hook up when she first met. You sighed, loosening your grip from around his neck. Chris continued to kiss across your jaw and down your neck.

“We’re in your mother’s house babe,” you said.

“And?” he muttered into your neck.

“And, she probably wouldn’t appreciate this going on in her guestroom.”

He pulled back a bit, finding your lips and placing a kiss there. “I beg to differ, but I suppose this isn’t how you want to meet my sisters.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the p. You crawled off his lap and a ran a hand through your hair. It was a good thing that you only had on lip balm, because surely had it been lipstick it would have been a mess on your face. You tugged at your sweater, making sure the neck was straightened before turning back to Chris and smiling. “Why don’t I spend the night at that construction zone you’re calling a house tomorrow night?”

“Really?” he asked, eager smile on his face.

“Yes, really.” You’d tell Chris tomorrow about your extended stay. It would just be the two of you tomorrow, so it would be easier to talk to him about your thoughts on possibly moving. You hoped he’d be honest with his feelings on it as well.

The two of you made your way back to the family room, immediately spying Chris’ sisters. Scott told you tonight’s dinner would just be the siblings as his mom wanted to keep it small and casual as they got to know you. Saturday would have the whole Evans’ clan in attendance for a potluck type lunch.

“Nice of you two to finally join us,” Chris greeted Carly and Shanna.

“We’re on time, you’re just always early,” Shanna said.

“Wait until you have kids. You’ll see how long it takes to get out of the house,” Carly spat.

“Anyway. This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N, these are my sisters Carly and Shanna.”

Whoa. Girlfriend. I guess he’s saying it first.

You felt your face heat up, but you quickly extended your hand to Carly first who pulled you into a hug and then passed you to Shanna who did the same.

“Great to meet the often talked about Sassy,” Shanna said with a giggle.

“Oh boy. Hopefully only good things,” you replied.

“Maybe. Siblings never rat each other out, so we simply can’t say,” Carly added shrugging her shoulders.

“You know damn well, no one is saying anything bad about you Sassy. It’s  Chris that needs to worry,” Scott said. Shanna instantly nodding in agreement.

“Let’s get a drink!” Carly said, putting her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to the kitchen.

With beers in hand, the five of you went back into the family, sandwiching between Chris and Shanna on the couch. A few minutes later Lisa came and joined you. “Dinner in ten minutes kids,” she said, squishing next to Scott on a large oversized chair.

“Sounds good, Ma,” Chris said.

“What are you kids talking about?”

“We were just getting ready to interrogate Y/N,” Carly said, giving you a wink.

“No, we most certainly were not,” Chris said, putting his arm around you and pulling you close.

You chuckled lightly, patting his thigh with your hand. “Babe, it’s fine.” You pulled away and looked at each of the three women. “What would you like to know?”

“Dinner’s almost ready, why don’t we wait until we sit down?” Lisa offered.

**

With dinner on the table, you readied yourself for an onslaught of questions.

“So, you’re from Florida?” Carly asked.

“Actually, I’m from Minnesota. I moved to Florida for college and just stayed.”

“And you’re a Disney person?” Shanna asked.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. “I worked, well, still work for the Orlando Sentinel covering anything and everything Disney parks. I’m not sure if the guys told you I recently took a different job, but I’ll still be covering some Disney parks’ news.”

“They did. Congratulations Y/N. It sounds like it was a change you were looking to make,” Lisa said.

“It was. I love covering the parks, but I’ve written a lot of current events articles for various magazines and I’d really like to delve into that.”

Chris squeezed your knee pulling your attention to him. He beamed at you, literally beamed. You knew he was happy for you but this told you that he was happy with how this meeting was going.

“Do you have any siblings?” Shanna asked.

“I have one brother and his name is Heath. He’s three years younger than me. And I have a bunch of cousins that are all around our age, so they always felt like siblings growing up.”

“Are you all still close?” Lisa asked.

“My brother and I are, but it gets harder to keep in touch with my cousins as we get older.”

“Have you ever been married?” Shanna inquired.

“Shanna!” Chris hissed.

You looked at Chris and gave him a smile. “It’s fine. No, I’ve never been married nor engaged. I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships, but not in the last few years.”

Shanna smiled, apparently satisfied with your answer.

**

After dinner, you offered to help Lisa with pouring coffee and dishing up the cake she had made.

“Y/N, I just wanted to apologize for that day I met you in Epcot. I didn’t treat you fairly and I honestly feel awful about it.” She turned away from the cake to face you. “Scott has always spoken so highly of you. I truly am sorry that I wasn’t as welcoming as I should have been.” Lisa stepped closer to you, grabbing both of your hands with hers. “Chris hadn’t mentioned that you were the same friend that Scott had told me about. So, when he said he was meeting up with a friend, I was a little annoyed. I thought that this friend was someone that he just had met, so I was disappointed it was taking time away from the kids.” She chuckled softly. “That sounds awful. It’s not that Christopher does that regularly. He never does that.” She took a breath and started again. “Oh boy, I’m probably getting him into trouble with you.” You chuckled at her words and shook your head. “My point is, I’m sorry and I hope we can be friends because you are obviously a very important woman in both my sons’ lives.”

“No hard feeling at all and I hope we can be friends as well.” You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around here. She quickly followed suit, patting your back gently with one hand.

“Are we getting cake or what?” Chris asked, stepping into the room. “Didn’t know I was breaking up a Hallmark moment.”

“Har-har Christopher. Come grab some of these plates,” Lisa said.

Chris stepped close to you, grabbing a plate while you poured another cup of coffee. “Everything okay?”

“Completely,” you said with a smile.

**

“Are you really leaving me for my brother?” Scott asked in his best daytime soap opera voice.

“Well, I’ve seen him naked, so...” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders.

“All you had to do was ask,” Scott offered.

“I’m sure Zach and Chris would love to hear that.” You patted his head, grabbing your carryon bag from the couch, making sure you had everything for the night. “I’ll be back with you tomorrow night for our best friends sleep over party like we planned. No boys allowed except for you.”

“Damn right! I’ll be sure to stock up on raspberry vodka.”

“No! Only wine. I learned my lesson when you got me drunk.” Scott scoffed, but waved you off. Chris was down stairs circling the block since he couldn’t find a spot to park. “Tell Zach when he gets up from his nap that I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“I will. Have fun and use protection!” Scott yelled out. You promptly flicked him off and shut the door.

**

Chris’ house was beautiful, even if it was being remodeled. The rooms that were currently being redone were the two guestrooms, the office, a guest bathroom, and the deck.

“See, you totally could have stayed here the whole time. Plenty of space for just you and me.”

The two of you were laying on his really comfortable couch. You between his legs and back against his chest. He kissed your neck and you hummed.

“Well, I remember someone telling me his house was practically unlivable. Then Scott offered and who am I to refuse? You’ll just have to have me stay another time.”

“Oh, I will,” he replied, then kissed your neck again.

“Your house is gorgeous. I really love this room and I’m sure this wall of windows out to the deck will look even better when it’s finished.”

“It’s going to be great. Like a second living space. At least that’s what the designer tells me. How are you likin’ Boston?”

You turned to face him slightly, tucking one leg underneath yourself. You licked your lips nervously.

Now or never.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Now, don’t get mad,” you started, Chris raising his eyebrows. “That’s not what I mean. Um. Okay, so you know how I mentioned that with this new job, I can spend time here with you or I could spend time with my family and work at the same time?” He nodded his head. “Well, I’m thinking about maybe relocating. I’m not sure what I want to do yet and I don’t need to make a decision right away. My lease isn’t even up until February.”

Chris face lit up, his smile as big as you’ve ever seen it. “What are you saying, Y/N. You movin’ here?”

“Not sure yet, that’s what I’m getting at. I’m staying in Boston another week.”

“You want to stay with me?”

“That’s the thing. I gotta make sure I’m comfortable being here. You’re not always here. Months at a time when you’re filming even. So, I actually rented an apartment for a week to see if I like the area.”

“Sweetheart, you could still stay with me and figure out if this is the place you want to be.”

“I know, but if I did move here, I’d have my own place so I wanted to get the feel of it. I didn’t mention it to you or Scott because I didn’t want you both insisting that I stay with you.” Chris narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t give me that look. It’s way too early for me to be moving in with you. We both know that.”

“Fine. You’re probably right,” he murmured.

“Maybe I can cook you dinner at my pretend apartment next week,” you offered.

“You better. Don’t think you’re staying a whole ‘nother week and not seeing me almost every day.”

“Babe,” you sighed out. “The whole point of me staying another week is to see if I can get along on my own. If we are hanging out every day, that’s not how life is always going to be.”

“Five days.”

“Two days,” you offered.

“Two days?! Sweetheart…Four days.”

“Three, and that’s my final offer,” you concluded.

“Deal. But that’s you and me time. No Scott.”

“That’s fine by me. But it’s not an all-day deal. I want to try to work.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grabbing your face and pulling it to his lips.

“Let’s go to bed,” you said, standing up and pulling him up with your hand. The two of you walked into his room, you slipping into the en suite.

You pulled off your sweater, cami, and jeans, folding them neatly and placing them on the far side of the vanity. You took a deep breath, admiring the see-through black bra and matching panties. You were ready to be intimate with Chris again and you hoped he was feeling the same. Giving yourself one last look, you ran your fingers through your hair and pinched your cheeks. You were feeling confident and you hoped it showed. Taking one more deep breath, you steadied yourself and opened the bathroom door, walking back in the room to Chris who had changed into a t-shirt that he wore with his boxers.

“Sweetheart,” he said with a shaky breath.

“Hi, Chris,” you said, moving closer to him. He sprung to his feet to stand in front of you. Your hands went to his chest, placing both palms on him. “Make love to me.”

It came out more like a statement than a question and you were proud of yourself in that moment. Chris visibly gulped, licking his lips, he nodded. His arms instantly wrapped around you, caging yours to his body.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve missed you,” he said softly. His lips trailed from yours to your neck, back up to that spot behind your ear that made your knees shake. He walked you to the bed, gently laying you down with him coming to lay beside you. His knee went between your legs opening you up to him. One hand caressed your pussy over your panties as he mouthed your nipple through your bra, causing goosebumps to erupt down your body. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, god yes. I want you babe,” you moaned as his mouth went to your other breast.

While the first time the two of you were together was fun and full of nervous energy, this time was the two of you truly making love. Chris took his time worshiping your body. It was slow and soft and you knew that it was absolutely right.

**

Lisa’s home was stuffed to capacity, much of the guests spilling into the backyard. It wasn’t just the Evans clan in attendance today. Everyone brought friends who they considered family. The names of everyone you met started to swirl together. The family was easy enough to get down as you met the kids back in May. Carly’s husband, Shanna’s boyfriend, a few cousins, and uncle were added to the list. Chris had a few buddies there as well as Scott that they introduced you to. Everyone was warm and welcoming and you felt at ease as they all seemed to want to get to know you. These were the important people in Chris’ life, so they were important to you as well.

Chris was relaxed which you loved to see. He had a few beers but wasn’t out of control. When you were around each other, he kept a hand on you. On your back. On your side. Around your shoulders. On your cheek. It was sweet and welcome, especially after the night you spent together.

You decided to stick to lemonade during the day, switching to white wine as the day went on. Getting drunk in front of these people wasn’t something you wanted to do even if Scott was trying to make that happen. He’d walk by with a bottle in hand and you’d quickly cover the top of your glass with your hand. It was slumber party night back at Scott’s, one of you had to be responsible enough to drive you home later.

One person you hadn’t even thought of meeting was Courtney. It was foolish of you to forget about her since Scott had told you she had been a long-time friend of the family, not to mention Chris’ on and off girlfriend for years. You wanted to like her and you wanted her to like you. It was such a weird thought to have. She’s Chris’ ex after all. She had been around for his other girlfriends including his longer relationships.

“Y/N, this is Courtney,” Scott introduced.

She gave you a polite smile and a wave which you returned. “The famous Sassy! I’ve seen you on Scott’s Instagram account,” she said.

Okay. This isn’t so bad.

“That would be me. It’s nice to meet you.”

She was prettier in person than she was in pictures. The kind of girl that didn’t need makeup but wore it anyway and it only enhanced her natural beauty. She was dressed casually in jeans and sweater, yet she looked unbelievably put together.

“You in town long?” she asked.

“Another week, then I’m back to the warmth,” you said with a smile.

“Suppose this is quite the change for you. Plus, the Evans family can be quite overwhelming.”

Scott scoffed at that, pushing her shoulder. “Only some of the Evans’ are overwhelming. I’m wonderful.”

You grabbed him around the waist, kissing his shoulder. “You sure are sweetie,” you said sarcastically, earning a laugh from Courtney.

Scott excused himself, leaving you and Courtney to chat. She was nice and sweet and easy to talk to.  You immediately understood why she remained friends with the family when her and Chris broke up the first time. It was still odd in away to be friendly with your boyfriend’s ex, but if everyone else loved her, you needed to give it a shot. Boyfriend. That was another thing. Chris was your boyfriend. You really liked the sound of that.

It was close to seven and Scott was itching to take off. He wanted to order pizza and have a dance party. Zach was staying with Chris for the night so the two of you could have that sleep over. You both had great boyfriends to put up with you. Confiscating Scott’s keys earlier in the day, you went in search of Chris to tell him goodbye.

You found Chris with a few of his friends you had met early in the day along with Courtney standing on the patio outside. Chris was telling a story, animated as ever. His arms flailing about, head tipped back as he laughed at his own joke. You stood back to admire him as he had the group enthralled with whatever tale he was telling. Courtney stepped forward, wrapping an arm around his middle. It seemed innocent at first until she placed a hand on his sweater clad chest, hand trailing lightly. Chris looked down at her hand and then to her face, neither of them noticing you had stepped outside. He lifted her hand from his chest, much to her surprise, and then stepped out of her embrace. “I have a girlfriend,” he said softly, but you still heard it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Courtney quickly replied.

You wanted to escape without being seen. It definitely felt like a moment you weren’t meant to witness even though you were happy with the outcome. You were mere inches from the patio doors when Scott popped out, calling out your name drawing the attention of the group standing nearby.

“Hey sweetheart,” Chris said, leaving the group and walking up to you, kissing your temple to greet you. You wrapped an arm around his middle and leaned into him. “Are you taking off?”

“M’hmm,” you replied. “Just coming to say goodnight.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he said.

“Hey, Y/N? Can I talk to you for a moment?” Courtney asked. You turned around to see a small frown on her face.

You nodded your head. “Sure.” You squeezed Chris’ hand. “I’ll see you inside,” you said to him.

Courtney followed you further into the backyard, taking a seat on a small bench.

“I’m not sure what you may have seen, but I wanted to apologize. I had my arms around Chris and If I had known he was with someone, I wouldn’t have been as handsy as I just was. That’s not me and I don’t want you to get that impression of me. M’sorry and I hope that you can accept my apology.”

Scott had not introduced you to Courtney as Chris’ girlfriend, so you did believe that she didn’t know and she did seem sincere. You didn’t want things to be weird, especially if you did end up moving here at some point.

“Already forgotten. I’d like for us to be friends, so no hard feelings,” you replied.

“Thank you,” she said, giving you a soft smile.

Both of you stood up, you walking back into the house and Courtney staying outside. Chris intertwined your hand with his, walking both of you out the front door to Scott’s car. He pulled you into a rocking hug, before pulling back, placing both palms on your cheeks and kissing you deeply.

“I’ll see you Monday for our day one of three?” he asked with a grin.

“I’d like that.” You kissed him again before climbing into the driver’s seat of the car. Scott already asleep in the passenger’s seat.

“Oh, Scott,” you said, shaking your head. He was lucky his car had GPS and you had his address.

Chapter 14

**

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[bbugyu]

my happiness + lee jihoon

even in this maze-like world, jihoon made you feel a little less lost

wc.4563 | fluff, uni/hs au, gender neutral reader, seungcheol is a protective bigbro

my friend ulted jihoon recently, so <3

If there was one way to describe your brother, it was protective. You were always his baby growing up - an annoying little sibling, but he was the only one allowed to beat you up. When your neighbor made you cry when you were six, a ten year old Seungcheol went marching over to him at the park near your apartment complex and kicked over his sand castle. In hindsight, he might have been a bit of a bully, but only when other people hurt you first, and you had always been grateful for it as a child.

Now, though, it scared you. Because you had a boyfriend. And Seungcheol didn’t know.

Seungcheol had gone off to college, getting an education doing what he loved with a ton of friends. He lived in an apartment an hour bus ride away from your family home, where you spent the week in high school. 

On the weekends, though, you had free reign. And most weekends, you took that hour bus ride to spend a couple nights on the couch in his living room. In the beginning, it had been because adjusting to him being gone was hard for you. For the first 18 years of your life, you had spent the evenings playfully fighting with your older brother as your mom yelled for you to sit your asses down and eat. Now, you sat at the table and shoved your food around the plate, feeling like an only child. Seungcheol knew this, and had opened the invitation - whenever you had a hard week, you were welcome, no questions asked. As long as there was a confirmation before you got on the bus, he would happily meet you at the bus stop and buy your favorite ramen and ice cream at the convenience store on the walk back to his place.

Now, though, you went just to hang out. His roommates were fantastic, a group of music-making friends Seungcheol had made in his course, not to mention the rotating cast of friends that would show up unannounced or to work on music. They were somehow just like him, yet simultaneously so different. You felt the same older brother vibe from Jeonghan that you did your actual brother. He took care of you, tossing you a tangerine when you were starting to get hangry, or sneakily adding your favorite songs to the music queue when you were pouting about something you didn't want to talk about. He lounged on the couch with a look on his face that made you wonder if his eyes ever opened fully, yet he noticed everything. Sometimes, when you were mad at Seungcheol for indescribable sibling reasons, Jeonghan would shoot you a message on kakao, and you would jokingly tell him he was better than your real brother. He always scolded you for thinking so, but it was his own fault for being so understanding.

Soonyoung and Seungcheol had the same way of expressing their passion, diving head first and only coming up for air when they were done. You had watched Soonyoung shove the small table in their apartment against the wall so that he could use the giant mirror leaning against the wall to bang out a detail in his choreographies more than once, and you recognized the look on his face as the one Cheol had as he wrote. He made you laugh the most often, always sacrificing his image to commit to a joke. The way he could transform from a striking performer into a grandma at a moments notice was maybe one of your favorite things anyone has ever done, but you refused to give him the ego boost by telling him, even if your uncontrollable laughter gave you away anyways.

And then there was Jihoon.

Jihoon was quiet and thoughtful, like your brother. He seemed to do better assessing the situation completely before inserting his opinion, which was always well considered and well explained. He leaned back in his roller chair, hand on his chin as he listened to the opinions of his room and bandmates, then somehow managed to have a suggestion that solved all their disagreements. He dressed comfortably at all times, but the clothes suited him well. You cursed him for being able to look put together while wearing sweats and sandals, all his platinum blonde hair tucked into a hat. At first, you wondered if he didn’t like you, considering how close you had gotten to the other two, but when you asked Seungcheol what his deal was, he just told you he’s shy around new people. That didn’t stop you from crushing on him. Hard.

More than once, he had looked over at you, catching your starry eyed gaze while he was working on a beat. You would always blush and look away, mortified by being caught practically drooling, but you noticed that when you stole another look, he was blushing too.

Seungcheol always grilled you about the boys at school. He always made you promise that you wouldn’t go on any dates with any of them before getting his approval, and you sighed and agreed, thinking specifically about how he had said “high school boys aren’t worth your time.”

Jihoon had been around for a couple of these conversations, and while he always stayed seated, facing his computer and away from you, you could see his fingers falter over the keyboard, his creative function pausing as he heard you insist to your brother that none of the guys at your school interested you.

One weekend, you were cramming for an exam, seated on the floor and laid out on the table at the apartment. Around 2 in the morning, Seungcheol told you to not stay up too late, told Jihoon that if he kept you up he would end up dead, then retired to his bedroom. You had yawned once in the half hour since then, and Jihoon immediately spun around in his chair, tearing off his headphones.

“I should let you sleep,” he said, saving his files. 

“No, no,” you insisted. “I’m gonna be up for at least another hour, don’t stop working for my sake.”

Jihoon pursed his lips, a habit you had noticed in the time you had known him. He nodded, acknowledging that he trusted your judgement and that he could keep working as he spun around slowly to resume. You watched his profile a moment, noticing the way his eyes scanned his screen while he was frozen, seemingly lost in his own brain versus processing what he was viewing.

“Can I hear what you’re working on?”

He blinked at you hard. “Hah?”

You giggled, trying to keep quiet, knowing his roommates were all asleep. “Can I listen? It might give me strength to keep studying.”

“I-I, uh-” Jihoon stuttered for a moment, clicking around on his screen. “Y-yeah, one second-”

Your lips pursed to hide the creeping smile on your face. Seungcheol had told you ages ago that Jihoon never went on dates. You had slept over at the apartment when Soonyoung had come home late after nights out, or Jeonghan not returning until morning. You had even stayed home a few weekends for the express reason of letting your brother go on dates without worrying about you being at his place alone. Jihoon, though. He was always home, either sleeping or working. You wondered if he even went to class. It was hard to imagine him anywhere but his desk in the living room.

You crawled over to the desk from you spot on the floor, and Jihoon stood up as you got near, gesturing for you to take his seat. As you sat, he handed you his headphones and kneeled, hand on his mouse as you put them on. He looked at you briefly to make sure they were on the right way, then hit the spacebar on his keyboard.

As the beat started, you immediately smiled and let out a small “ooh,” turning to Jihoon as he tried to look anywhere but at you. Your head bobbed as you listened to the cheerful beat. “I love it. What melody are you thinking?”

He cocked his head. “I haven’t gotten that far. Cheol already wrote a few bars, so I made it for that mostly, but I don’t have a hook yet.”

You nodded, humming a quiet accompanying melody absentmindedly.

“Oh,” Jihoon said, suddenly looking at you. “That’s good? That was really good. Hang on.” He paused the playback and grabbed the microphone, and you watched in shock. “Can you do that again?”

“I-I, me?” You gulped. “I’m not a singer, you should do it.”

“You came up with it, how am I supposed to know it?” He asked, clicking around quickly. You leaned back in the seat as his arms reached across you to access the keyboard better. “You should record it, quick, before you lose it.”

You stared at the microphone he put in your hand as he went back in the song to where you ad-libbed, still slightly shocked at the difference in Jihoon’s personality when he started entering producer mode.

“Ready? Just do it naturally. Whatever feels right.”

You looked at him, nodding. The music resumed in your ears, and you sang the melody you had hummed into the microphone with no real lyrics. When you finished what came to you, you pulled the microphone away from you, giggling suddenly. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Why, why?” Jihoon took the mic from you and smiled, after saving the recording. “You sounded good! The Choi siblings are talented.”

“No,” you groaned. “Seungcheol got all the musical talent.”

“Yah,” he furrowed his brow at you. “Are you saying I’m not a good judge?”

You laughed again. “No, no, I’m not!”

“It sounds like you think I don’t know a good voice when I hear it.”

“Stop!”

“Then admit you sounded good!”

You pouted at him, and he laughed. Your frown broke slightly, only to end in you giggling as he looked back at his screen, adjusting a couple things. You wanted to watch what he was doing, but you were lost in his profile. He gave you a sideways glance quickly, then again when he realized you were staring.

“What?”

You shook your head, but didn’t stop looking at him. “Nothing.”

This was the closest you had ever been to Jihoon, sitting in his chair with him beside you, and your heart felt like exploding just by the way he was looking at you.

Then you heard a door.

Jihoon stood suddenly, instinctively clearing his throat and focusing on the screen as you spun in the chair to see Jeonghan emerging from their shared bedroom.

He paused outside of the door, staring at the two of you, processing the scene he had just walked into. “What’s all this?”

You blinked, and Jihoon cleared his throat again.

Jeonghan sighed, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch. “You guys are too obvious.”

“Where are you going?” You asked suddenly, remembering the hour.

He eyed you, knowing what you were thinking. “Nothing like that. My girlfriend just accidentally played Animal Crossing for ten hours straight and has an exam in six hours. I’m taking her to a cafe.”

You nodded slowly, remembering the girl you had met a few weeks before, then wondered what class has an exam at 9 on a Saturday. “Stay safe.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

“Hey,” Jihoon said, feeling accused. “What’s that mean?”

Jeonghan laughed as he grabbed his wallet and keys, shoving them into the pockets of his denim jacket. “You do know that Seungcheol will literally kill you if you make a move on his baby, right?”

You bit your cheek. Jihoon stuttered behind you.

“I’ll keep your secret,” he said, shoving his feet into a pair of vans. “But if you guys are this obvious in front of him, don’t blame me when he finds out.”

It had been a month since Jeonghan had called you both out for having feelings for each other. A month since Jihoon shyly admitted that he had liked you for a while, but hadn’t expected you to feel anything for him. A month since you, a blushing mess, said that you had a crush on him the second you met him. A month since he gently put a hand on your jaw and kissed you.

A month since you started avoiding your brother’s questions about boys. And he was starting to get annoyed.

“None, Y/N? Really? No guys?”

You rolled your eyes, pausing your note taking. “No, bro. Boys at my school are stupid.”

“What about outside of school?”

This was the first time Seungcheol had suggested that you might know people outside of your class, and your panic must have shown on your face by the way Jihoon snorted from behind Cheol. He spun around and looked at the younger. “What? Is it crazy to think that Y/N might know people outside of school?”

“No,” Jihoon said, straight faced. “I just don’t get why you’re so insistent on them having a boyfriend when you wouldn’t approve of any of them anyways.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, refocusing on your textbook. “Can you guys shut up, I have a quiz on Monday.”

“You have all weekend,” Cheol said, grabbing your notebook as you protested. “Whats up, my precious little sibling. Why aren’t you dating? You’re graduating this year.”

“Because I have an oedipus complex and no one compares to my brother,” you said, trying to snatch your notebook back as Jihoon broke out into a laugh. “Can you leave me alone for one weekend?”

“If you want me to leave me alone you shouldn’t come to my apartment.”

You didn’t tell him you only came because you wanted to see your secret boyfriend, who just so happened to be his roommate.

Jihoon was good to you, you thought. If he woke up early enough, he would facetime with you during your lunch period at school while he walked to his first class, bleary eyed and swollen from sleep. You shoved your classmates away as they teased you for your older man and he would just laugh, rubbing his eyes in the afternoon sun. He’d send you pictures of random things all day, sometimes in class, or in the library. A book cover he thought you would like the design of. The way the clouds looked in the sunset when he was walking back to the apartment. You often got selfies of him pretending to be asleep during lectures. You would send pictures back of your sneakers while you walked home from school, or selfies you took with the mirror in your room. Every other afternoon, he would facetime you again after Seungcheol left for his afternoon class, and you would study while he messed around on his computer, letting you listen to his music making process.

Then, Friday afternoons, you would skip up the stairs to your family apartment and rush to pack an overnight bag, telling your mom you were headed to Seungcheol’s. She would tease you for spending more time there than at home, but was secretly glad that her kids were staying close. On the bus, you would switch your wallpaper back to an edit with lyrics to some Jonas Brothers song from the picture that Jihoon had sent you earlier that week. You texted both Jihoon and your brother, separately, letting them know you were on your way.

Your phone rang in your hand suddenly while you were watching Jihoon type on the other side of the conversation. Seungcheol. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, kiddo! Something came up and I can’t get you at the bus stop.”

You paused. “Okay?”

“So wait until later.”

You paused again, looking around the bus you were seated in. “No?”

“What do you mean, no?”

“Seungcheol, I’m not a little kid. I know where you live. Besides, I’m already on the bus.”

You rolled your eyes when you heard him groaning. “You’re so annoying. Okay, hang on.”

“You’re the one being annoying, bro-” you were cut off by the sound of a door opening and Cheol yelling a sustained “YAH!”

“Can you go get this stupid kid at the bus stop? By the 7eleven?”

“Bro, I’m not a stupid kid-”

“Okay I’m back. Jihoon says he’ll come meet you.”

You paused. “Fine.”

“Ah, you’re fine if it’s Jihoon but not me. I see how it is.”

You laughed. “What do you mean?”

“This kid,” he muttered teasingly. “Doesn’t even care that their big brother just wants to take care of them. Prefers the other brothers. I get it. I’m not hurt.”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah whatever. Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Then you sat, vibrating, on a bus for forty-five minutes. 

You stood by the back door as the bus stopped in front of the 7eleven, grinning when you saw Jihoon leaning against the wall, waving at you through the bus window. You hopped off and excitedly skipped towards him, making him laugh as he pushed off the wall.

“Hi,” you said, grinning.

“Hi,” he said back, quickly leaning into you for a kiss.

You really cherished the moments you could act how you wanted with Jihoon. You knew that if you let yourself get soft and sappy with Seungcheol around, it would be a dead giveaway, so you kept your normal attitude at the apartment. But, what you wanted to do was hook your arm into Jihoons, plant a kiss on his cheek, and happily tell him about your week as you walked. So that’s what you did.

Despite the fact that you had talked over facetime the day before, you still found something to tell him about, making him laugh when you imitated one of your classmates. He told you that he started a new song the night before, and you begged him to let you listen to it when you got home, but he said you had to wait until it was done.

Your fingers fit well between his, you thought, when he suddenly asked if you were hungry.

“Kinda,” you said, looking over to him. “You?”

He nodded, looking down the street at what was around. “I haven’t eaten yet today. Do you wanna go to the snack bar?”

You grinned, giving him a look. “Lee Jihoon, are you asking me out?”

He laughed, tugging your hand with his. “Shut up. Let’s go.”

You decided to let it slide that it was almost four in the afternoon and he hadn’t eaten yet, giggling as you got pulled down the street. You had always liked Jihoon, obviously, but you especially liked the Jihoon you had gotten to know. The one that was relaxed and laughed at every chance he got, rather than the shy and hesitant Jihoon you had met. Now that he wasn’t trying to hide his feelings from you, he had become a cooler, calmer version of himself when you were around, not just when he forgot you were sitting on the couch while him and the guys worked on a song. 

When you entered the snack bar that your group frequented often, you realized you had never eaten anywhere alone with Jihoon, much less there. It was starting to kind of feel like a real date, you thought, as he led you to a small table, looking over the menu when he sat despite probably having it memorized. You quickly got up and retrieved a pitcher of water for you both, asking him what sounded good.

“Everything,” he said, leaning back and stretching his shoulders. “What do you want? My treat.”

You bit your cheek, looking at the menu, despite also having it memorized. It really was starting to feel like a date. “Rabokki?”

“Oooh, I like it. With cheese?”

You scoffed, pouring the water for both of you. “Always with cheese.”

He laughed as he pulled the cap off a felt tip pen to mark out your order. “Do we want the fried rice at the end, too?”

“Wah,” you said, eyes wide. “I haven’t had that in so long. Are you hungry enough?”

He looked at you. “Are you being serious?”

You giggled, letting your hand find his free one beside the inset grill, fingers slipping between his. “Order it, then.”

He inhaled sharply, cocking his head at the menu. “Should we also get kimbap?”

“Jihoon, there’s only two of us.”

“And?”

He played around with the idea for a bit longer, making you laugh, but he decided against it so that he could justify ordering chicken for dinner. After the older woman that ran the place took the marked menu from Jihoon, he stared at you for a minute, then smiled.

You pouted, suddenly shy under his gaze. “What?”

“You’re really cute.”

You pulled your hand away from his and leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Shut up.”

He laughed, leaning forward to pull your hand back. “Hey, hey! That’s mine. You can’t take it.”

“My hand?”

“No, mine.”

You held it up. “This one? The one attached to me?”

“Yeah, it’s mine. Give it back.”

You wished you didn’t blush so hard as you pouted and muttered a “fine,” letting him take it back and rest it on the table again. 

Then there was thunk on the window, making you both jump and look over, along with the few other patrons. Your eyes got big as your big brother pointed at you, a balled fist against the glass.

“Yah!” His voice was muted from through the glass, but his tone was obvious. You looked at Jihoon, then at your hands, and you both pulled away as soon as you realized, but it was way too late. You groaned and collapsed onto the table as Seungcheol marched to the entrance and entered the snack bar.

“What the hell! You didn’t tell me?”

Jihoon stood up, but stuttered. “H-hey, calm down, bro-”

“Y/N.”

You didn’t lift your head. “What.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon interjected. “I asked them to not let you know. It’s my fault.”

“What?” Seungcheol stared at him. “Why? Why would you think I wouldn’t want to know about this?”

“Because you would have said I wasn’t good enough, and you’re right.”

That made you pop your head up, squinting at Jihoon. “What? No. That’s not true.”

“How can you judge?” Seungcheol asked, nodding at you. “You don’t have experience with guys. You barely even know him.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Oh my God, Seungcheol, I’ve known Jihoon for almost a year now. I probably know him better than you do. And I don’t need you telling me who’s worthy of my time.”

Seungcheol pouted at you, his brows giving away that he was more hurt than angry. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused. “Are you serious?”

He exhaled, sitting in the extra chair at your table, completely ignoring the group of people he had been walking with that were now just standing outside of the restaurant. “How long?”

You eyed Jihoon, who quietly sat across from you. “About a month.”

Seungcheol clicked his tongue, as he looked around, concealing a curse and clearly annoyed that he hadn’t figured out sooner. “How serious?”

“I really like Y/N,” Jihoon said, pulling both of your attention. He adjusted his baseball cap, another habit of his you had noticed. “A lot. I would like it to be serious.”

You pursed your lips, trying to hide a smile. “Me too.”

“God, I hate this,” Seungcheol said, rubbing his face. “This sucks so much.”

You shoved his shoulder. “Why, why?”

“Because I want to beat up your boyfriend but I don’t want to beat up my producer.”

“Nice,” Jihoon deadpanned, looking at you with a raised fist in victory. “We found a loophole.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Seungcheol groaned, pulling himself out of the chair. “Are you paying? You better be paying.”

Jihoon laughed, hands up in surrender. “I’m paying, I promise.”

“He already offered, Seungcheol, seriously. God, you’re so annoying.”

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you two here.”

“Are you?” You asked. “Because it seems a lot like you’re still here.”

“Oh, nice,” Jihoon raised a hand and you laughed as you high fived him. 

“I’ll kill you both if given the opportunity, I swear,” Seungcheol said, walking towards the door. “Take me seriously.”

“Of course, big brother! I love you!”

Jihoon made a heart with his arms and you held your face, trying to not snort at the way Seungcheol pointed and looked at him. 

“God, this sucks,” he repeated before opening the door, sounding completely defeated. "Oh my God the song you were writing yesterday-”

Jihoon cleared his throat. "Hey, bro, shut up."

You eyed Jihoon and he shook his head. Seungcheol leaned against the doorframe in anguish, still complaining about how much he hated the situation. You waved to him as he rejoined his friends, all of them slapping his back as he huffed. You exhaled deeply and looked at Jihoon. “Well, that went better than expected.”

He exhaled, nodding, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “I think I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

You giggled a moment, then paused. “Were you serious earlier?”

Jihoon looked at you, wide eyed. “About what?”

“That you don’t think you’re good enough.”

His tongue clicked and he inhaled, fidgeting with his hands. “I- yeah. Kinda?”

“Why?”

He shook his head. “I just don’t get you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“I don’t get how-” he paused, clearing his throat and straightening his spine. “I don’t understand it. You’re so funny and cute and smart, I’m sure people are asking you out at school all the time. Wouldn’t it be easier to have a boyfriend you could actually spend time with?”

“We do spend time together,” you said, thinking of all the video calls and the weekends hanging out.

“Not really,” Jihoon said. “Not like a couple.”

You faltered. “You mean like going out?”

He pursed his lips, clearly not sure how to express what was going on in his head with you pushing for an answer. “I guess? Don’t you think you should see your boyfriend more?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to get him to look at you again. “But only because you’re my boyfriend. I like you, Jihoon. I don’t wanna be with anyone else.”

He sniffed suddenly, a smile breaking through. He raised his eyebrows a bit, and you almost laughed at his playful look. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?”

You giggled. “No. Only you.”

“Wow,” he said, putting his hands on the table. “No one, huh?”

“Shut up,” you said, recognizing his jokingly cocky tone.

“Wow, this feels good, huh?” He grinned, committing to the bit by speaking in dialect. “I like this feeling. Turns out, happiness isn’t just a word.”

Your eyes closed as you laughed. “You’re acting so weird, stop.”

He laughed with you while your pot arrived and the server turned on the burner. Jihoon immediately began breaking up the ramen, smiling sideways while you watched him.

“What?” He asked finally, wondering why you stared at him instead of the food.

You smiled. “I like you.”

He exhaled with a smile. “I like you, too.”

[thomothysdoodles]

1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 17, 18, 20, 23, 26, 17, 28, 31, 32, 35, 37, 38, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67,, 68, 69, 70, 71, 73, 74, 75, 85, 86, 87, 88, 90, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 98

I am so sorry, I literally have no idea what came over me

Wow Lulu you really said ‘let’s ask this bitch EVERYTHING’. I love it tho lmao. Since it’s long imma put it under the cut tho

4. How did your elementary school teachers describe you?

“A pleasure to have in class, a bit lost in their mind, if they committed and focused more they’d excell but they settle for good grades”

From elementary to high school lol

5. Do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

I like soda cans

6. Pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Somewhere between tomboy and grunge I think

8. Movies or tv shows?

Tv shows

9. Favorite smell in the summer?

Sunscreen and freshly baked bread

11. What do you have for breakfast on an average day?

A cup of milk with some cereal or biscuits. For the past month I’ve been following the keto diet tho, and I usually are some ricotta with peanut butter for breakfast

12. Name of your favorite playlist?

“Sad but vibing” lol

14. Favorite non chocolate candy?

Strawberry lollipops

17. Most frequently worn pair of shoes?

A black vans pair, I bought em in August but the left one already got a hole on the front 😤

18. Ideal weather?

Cloudy but not too windy or cold. I just don’t like the sunlight in my face

20. Preferred place to write?

On my phone’s notes app lol, I’ve got almost two thousand notes in here

23. Strange habits?

I hide stuff in my room with no apparent reason. I’ve got money stashed around my room in four different points lol

26. Favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Given the chance, I like to race with my bike to get some refreshing wind

27. Favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Cozy up in a blanket and watch some tv

28. Five songs to describe you.

Karma— AJR

Ultimately— Khai Dreams

Putting a spin on Slow Dancing in the Dark— egg

Mars— YungBlud

Gotta be a Reason— Alec Benjamin

31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

Black jeans, black sturdy boots, and a silly little hoodie lmao

32. Top five favorite vines?

‘DONT FUCK WITH ME, IVE GOT THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE— AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA’

‘Let me see what you have!’ ‘A KNIFE!’ ‘NO!!!’

‘Hey bro, what do you wanna eat?’ (‘The souuuls of my enemies’) ‘A bagel’ (‘NOOO’) ‘..two bagels.’

FR E SH A VOCA DO

‘Two shots of vodka..’ *pours half a bottle of vodka*

35. Average time you fall asleep?

I am terrible at this. I love sleeping but I also love feeling ✨ unbothered ✨ doing whatever I want in the middle of the night. So, never before 3am usually

37. Suitcase or duffel bag?

Suitcase

38. Lemonade or tea?

Tea

40. Weirdest thing to happen at your school?

I dunno how weird it is, but I always found peculiar that there were cigarette butts on the ceiling of the bathrooms. Like, seven feet tall ceilings. How did those cigs get there??

41. Last person you texted?

My best friend to tell her that my sister found a way to let me watch supernatural on American Netflix >:3c

42. Jacket pockets or pant pockets?

Jacket pockets

43. Hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie and/or jean jacket

44. Favorite scent for soap?

I dunno. Talcum powder I think

45. Which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Superhero

46. Most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Tee and boxers. Sometimes socks too

48. If you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Umh. Clementines maybe. Easy to peel, sweet but also not, sometimes with seeds.. and some people loathe the little white stripes they have and they spend hours peeling those away

49. What saying or quote do you live by?

“Like any / unloved thing, I don’t know if I’m real /when I’m not being touched.” —Natalie Wee

50. What made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

My best friends always make me wheeze, it can be the stupidest dumbest thing ever, I’m really fucking easy to amuse lol

51. current stresses?

My driver license my driver license my driver license my driver license my driver license my d

52. Favorite font?

I have no idea. This one? Lol

53. What is the current state of your hands?

Good. I just cut my nails, I really wanna put some nail polish but my dad comes back home tomorrow and he always looks me weird when I put it

55. Favorite fairy tail?

The little mermaid

56. Favorite tradition?

A tradition I have with my friends is that when we celebrate someone’s birthday, we go to the thrift shop and buy them stupid stuff to wear or put on. On my birthday a couple days ago I had to wear playboy bunny ears and a black glittery bow tie lol. Once I bought my best friend a tiny pirate hat, and for another my friend took a boa with pink feathers lol

57. The 3 biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Mmmh

I’m having a hard time with my parents since I dropped out of uni but I think I’m starting to overcome it finally

When my parents were about to divorce and in was dreading the idea of moving from this city

That time in middle school I spent a couple weeks at the hospital to run a bunch of neurological tests

58. Four talents you’re proud having?

I’m pretty good at multitasking

It’s very difficult to enrage me (yes I consider it a talent)

I can juggle lol

I can read in moving cars/trains etc without getting sick :D

59. If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“What the f—“

61. Favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/ etc?

“Happiness isn't in the having. It's just in the being. It's in just saying it.” Aka Castiel’s love confession (OF COURSE I WAS GONNA SAY SOMETHING DESTIEL RELATED)

62. Seven characters you relate to?

No specific order:

Dean Winchester

Eric Derekson

Jake Peralta

Doug Eiffel (👀)

Tony Stark

Klaus Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

63. Five songs that would play in your club?

Anything from P!ATD

Bang!— AJR

Natural— Imagine Dragons

Anything from Set It Off

Maniac— Conan Gray

64. Favorite website from your childhood?

I didn’t use computers in my childhood lol

66. Favorite flower(s)?

Fresias 💕

67. Good luck charms?

I used to keep in my pocket a little hazelnut my dad gave me once telling me that it was a good luck charm. I took it away tho. I dunno, maybe my rings

68. Worst flavor of any food of drink you’ve ever tried?

I have to admit I never tasted it, but the smell of truffle literally makes me gag, so that

69. A fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Apparently your love language is both the one you give AND want love, and also the one you most lacked growing up. So. Mull that over.

70. Left or right handed?

Rightie

71. Least favorite pattern?

Holey ones. Make my sight go double

74. At what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an Advil of ibuprofen?

A seven I guess. I usually try to sleep off anything I have, I hate to take medicines, and loathe to call the doctor lol

75. When did you lose your first tooth?

Around.. six I think?

85. Fairy tails or mythology?

Mythology forever

86. Cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies 🍪

87. Your greatest fear?

That the other shoe will drop and I’ll be alone and lonely

88. Your greatest wish?

To have enough stubbornness to do what I wish to do without getting demoralized so easily

90. Luckiest mistake?

Me and one of my best friends got to know each other through other common friends, and once they both couldn’t come and we ended up spending the day together. We had lots of fun, but we also got drunk and I lost my mcfreaking watch lmao

92. Lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Lamps

94. Favorite season?

Winter ❄️

95. Favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr! (And the music one. And the podcasts one. And— jk lol)

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 16 May 1834

7 5/..

12 ½

Fine – ready in an hour F57° at 8 5 - reading till 9 ½ from page 25 to 76, volume 24 British prose writers to the end of Horace Walpole’s Reminiscences. Letter from Mr Scotts’ book-keeper ‘GW. Ellis, 3 Dove street, near the Nunnery York’ to say Joseph had brought away his livery hardly worn at all and to beg me to desire him to send it back again - the poor lad brought it away in ignorance, never dreaming, as nobody said anything to him about it, that he ought to have given it back. Letter 3 pages from M- (Lawton) dated Thursday 8th inst and lastly last Tuesday night 13th instant – hoped to have heard from me – disappointed tho saying she had now no right to be so - and indeed ought not as she had neither asked me to write to her at Lawton, nor had I promised to do so -  they arrived at Lawton on Tuesday 6th inst and were to leave there on Wednesday the 14th - writes to ask me to pay the ‘new servant James for a greatcoat Thomas had bought of him’- Found her scholars more stupid than formerly dined at Rode nothing interested her ‘Mary is not what she was or the same things would produce the same pleasures but it matters not’ ‘Time will do its best and worst, and after all is the short span of life worth a thought? A few short years and all is over and mine neither have given nor promise sufficient of comfort to induce a wish that they might be prolonged no one knows not, even you dearest Fred, what I have gone thro’ and at this moment I feel as little caring for the future of this world as if 24 hours would close my existence perhaps I should be thankful to know its duration was so limited – you, at least, I trust will be happy for you deserve to be so, and earnestly do I pray that it may be so’. And that those you love best may secure to you all the comfort necessary to your wishes for the present adieu then writes the more than half page of conclusion on Tuesday night Poor Mary how she has always marred her own happiness but how was it when I was so low two years ago she shewed no great pity for me. Breakfast in 20 minutes at 9 ½ wrote the above of today till 10 20 - some time out with Pickles and the rest -P- finished re-levelling the ground in front of the house before 12 and was at the railing in the afternoon with his 2 men. Had Joseph up twice for a good while about correcting his letter to Mr Ellis respecting the livery - had ½ hour’s nap. Wrote 3 pages and ends to M- as follows ‘Shibden Hall, Friday 16th May 1834. I have in this moment, my dearest Mary, received your letter dated lastly the 13th (Tuesday last) – three days from Lawton! These shews me, that my letter written on Sunday, and sent on Monday (the 12th) would reach Lawton a few hours after you were off. Surely it would be sent after you immediately and surely you have reached it ere this. Mary! I am very very sorry my pages were not with you at Lawton! - but they will convince you, you were not out of my thoughts, are not and are not likely to be – the more, my dearest Mary, I reflect upon the past, the more I am confounded at the appalling inconsistency of your conduct - that you should grieve so deeply over its consequences, is a heavy misfortune to us both. But this I can truly say, that whatever you may ‘have gone thro’ I can’t earnestly believe it to exceed the misery, the ruthless desolation of heart that fell upon myself – to me it was more sudden than the lightness glare - you had long warning – the storm came not but at your bidding, and from your own breast, sprang up the rock on which the hope of 20 years was wrecked. In pity and in common justice, remember this. Think too, that you can never have had one feeling of wounded pride to add its sting to all the rest. It was your own hand drew the card that sped the deadly shaft hope to the heart that had no shield but its affection Mary! Your aim did seem so coolly, so deliberately taken, the arrow scarce could miss her way. But no more - my regard is still perhaps worth having, and it will not be my fault if it does not serve you faithfully. For my sake, at least, take my advice this once more. Cheer up - rally round you those hopes that are scatted, rather than destroyed – let not your spirit turn coward but gather together your resources, calculate them fairly, manage them well – remember that you have a tried and steady friend who will help you to the uttermost, and, trust me, you have no need to despair of happiness even in this world. Despair is always a false calculation we can’t tell the good that may be in store for us and when our horizon seems lowest who knows that the brightest gleams of our existence are not at hand? Mary! I will do anything in the world I can for you - and surely it is my power to be a greater comfort to you than I can possibly have been, ever since the first moment when your mind became unsettled enough to entertain the 1st embryo thought of the now as it appears, strange resolve you came to, 2 years ago. But perhaps after all you were more right than you now believe. If all your tastes were indeed so changed as you told me, while mine as I honestly avowed, remained so nearly the same, how would it have answered to be still entirely dependent on each other? For you must not forget that, as the circumstance, which seems more particularly to tell you the secret of your own heart, would not then have occurred , you might still have been ignorant of it as ever, and I should not have had the strong advantage of being valued as at present. Mary! Is not this reasonable? You find travelling insupportable - you had other interest dearer than mine - you could not bear to leave Lawton - you even made a point of my promising to settle near there - and you, above all people, knew how I was situated towards my own place, where my family had lived between 2 and 3 centuries, I being the 15th possessor of my family and name. Mary! The spirit of my uncle started up before me and had my life been the sacrifice, idolatry must have yielded to honour. Mary! My dearest Mary, you thought of me too lowly then, as you think of me too highly now. Reflect upon these things - you will be happier by and by - you will trust my friendship regard implicitly and this will not be the least of the comforts that I firmly hope will attend us both – ask me to write, or to do anything. I do not feel as if I should ever disappoint you much - I have no feeling towards you but of affectionate regard and my greatest anxiety is for your welfare. But cheer up, Mary! Be comforted, my dearest Mary, if it be but for my sake. How my pen still lingers on this engrossing subject. I must answer the purport of your letter. James Clayton is no longer my servant - he came to me on the 24th ult. refused to wear Thomas’s livery - on the 26th and left me on the 28th sorry probably for his folly and not calculating that I should not retract the warning given at the moment. Mrs Williamson, Register Office for servants, Colliergate  

SH:7/ML/E/17/0034

(I think it is) York, is the only person I know of likely to know anything about the man. You will see from my last, as far as I can tell at present, what I am going to be about - I shall probably be in York by 12 on Tuesday and off in an hour towards Richmond. In my aunt’s present state of health,  I cannot be absent more than a week, I do not expect her surviving another winter - my father’s life, too, is very precarious, he had a very slight paralytic affection , more particularly in the left arm, 3 or 4 days ago -  Marian’s attention to him is quite exemplary. Her feelings towards me seem altogether changed into what is most comfortable. God bless you my dearest Mary! You can’t possible doubt my regard and how much I am always very especially yours. A. Lister’ Writing out this letter has taken me from 3 25 to 4 10 = 1 ¼ hour. What will π- think of it  I see three tears had fallen on her paper  What a goose she has been surely she never thought of losing she played upon me too much the history of our acquaintance may be summed in accepted refused accepted married offended refused repented. Reading over my letter and dawdling till out at 4 ½ - with Marian in the garden - with Mallinson etc - dinner at 6 ½ then coffee and Marian was with me till after 8 - then sent off my letter to ‘Mrs Lawton, Claremont house, Leamington, Warwickshire’ and Joseph took to the post his letter to Mrs Ellis to say he should have the livery hat and all on Tuesday - from 8 ½ to 9 ½ in the fields looking at the new railing - 18 posts and railing there to belonging set this afternoon - and all would be finished tomorrow if we had the posts but we shall not have enough by 8 - 2 plasterers came this morning from Shaw’s, and cleared away the dirt and plaster ready for pointing west side of the house - talking to Marian till 10 1/4 . Is Northgate, or will it be, sold or not – tonight at 7 the sale was to being – I have not thought much about it even this evening and not all during day. My day was spent over my letter and my eyes stiffish with the tears that fell or stood big in my eyes This weakness is too foolish - 10 minutes with my aunt and came to my study at 10 25 and wrote the last 10 lines - raining fast - seemed to begin a few minutes ago - fine day tho’ dullish - very good for growing - my father does not like the idea of flower-beds, so the ground before the front window is to be all sown down with grass and clover - till 11 ½ read from page 79 to 99 Horace Walpole’s letters British prose writers vol. 24.

[allie1804-fan]

Please Assist Me (Chapter 19)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Ch6apter 10 , Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15 , Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18

She Said

Back in LA, I found myself home schooling again as Covid was seeing another surge and there was still no vaccine on the horizon.  It was definitely a struggle not having Keanu there in my regular day to day life especially as I still had to deal with the downsides associated with being his girlfriend – like not having my social media fix and getting photographed looking like shit while doing  the grocery shopping!

The memory of that day alone together in New York was seared in my brain;  And it either helped me get through, looking forward to having him home again or made things 50 times worse because it reminded me how much I missed him.

After the amazing sex and snoozing, we’d headed to a café for brunch then spent a couple of hours walking in the park. We weren’t bothered by any fans or photographers and we were just able to enjoy a relaxing time together. It was what we needed after the tension that was there because of the whole publicity issue. And the sex had left us physically relaxed too. We talked about plans for later in the year after John Wick 4 filming had concluded. There would be a 3 week spell of filming in New York then another 3 week shoot in Russia before heading back to New York to finish for a couple more months. The Russia slot had changed due to some problem with permissions to use a specific city which was why they had to break up the New York shoot.

I found myself far more stressed by the renewed lockdown and home schooling this second time around – I think I’d just got too used to Keanu being around so it was like readjusting to being a single parent yet again and I definitely had a shorter fuse.

Keanu came home for a couple of days between the New York and Russia shoots and unfortunately I took out the tension I was feeling on him. He came straight to my house from the airport, exhausted from the shoot where they’d tried to get ahead of themselves so had been doing 12-16 hour days. He’d accumulated a pile of dirty laundry which he asked if I wouldn’t mind doing.

“What? You couldn’t get hotel services to deal with this?” I snapped

“Come on, I’ve been working 6 til 10 every day this week, I just forgot” he pleaded.

“Whatever!”

Later I apologised to him. I put it down to having just had two consecutive school days that week  which was exhausting physically and mentally and I’d been a bit under the weather. He forgave me but there were a couple more tense moments before he went to Russia.

The car to take him to the airport was due soon and he gathered his bags and then pulled me close. I didn’t want to let him go.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been such a bitch!” I grovelled, looking up into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

“Hey, it’s OK, I know it’s tough being here holding the fort. I’ve got it good, I know that. I’m busy all day and sometimes into the night on set and I don’t have all the responsibilities you have so, I know it’s hard hun but just think, in August. I’ll be back and we can all just be together for as long as we like. I haven’t accepted any other work yet so it’s just promo for Matrix and John Wick that will definitely happen and that might be done more on line now that we know it works! And who knows, I might just get you pregnant as well!”

 “You have to be here to do that sweetie”

 “I know” he grinned giving my nose a tweak.

 He Said

The first shooting in New York went well and whilst I missed Sophia and the kids, I was working so hard that there wasn’t much time for me to dwell on it. And the memory of that special day alone together sustained me, knowing that at the end of the John Wick shoot, I’d have at least a few months at home before having  to go anywhere on a shoot or promotional tour.  

I kept in touch via messaging and calls and the occasional bunch of flowers or a book sent to her to let her know she was in my thoughts but I know it was harder on her being alone especially when they had to start home schooling again. Julie was still part of the bubble but her baby was still small so she wasn’t always able to do her share, so Sophia and Miranda picked up the slack.  

When I managed to pop back to LA in-between the first New York and the Russia shoots, Sophia was tetchy and I wondered whether it would have been better to simply go straight to Russia and stay out of her way! But she looked tired and drawn so I tried my best to be patient and took the kids out to play in the park for a few hours to give her a break whilst  I was around.  It wasn’t fun being on the receiving end of her temper, but I wished I could make life easier for her all the time and not have yet another period of location shooting ahead of me. I reassured her that once I was home, we’d have a few months at least together and I hoped that maybe then we’d strike it lucky with the baby plans.

 She Said

While Keanu was in Russia, it really was a case of soldiering on. I was still feeling under the weather and constantly taking my temperature in case I was somehow going down with Covid but it was always normal regardless of how rubbish I felt.

We mostly did our calls in the mornings at around 8am as Russia is 10 hours ahead. Sometimes it was phone and sometimes video call depending on how good his internet was.  

The kids would usually pile in in front of the iPad at some point in each call and his smile was so heart-warming to see when they popped up.

“You got any messages for Karina?” I asked him on one call “I’m meeting her for coffee tomorrow”

“Just say hi and that I’ll try to see her and mom when I’m home in-between Russia and NY OK? Only 2 days to go.”

“Yup, I’m counting down the hours” I said showing him my phone screen where I’d set a countdown on my home screen.

The next day, Karina and I sat in the sun enjoying a coffee. Well, I should clarify, she was enjoying a coffee and I was finding mine distinctly weird.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with this milk. My coffee tastes weird."

“no mine’s fine” you sure you’re OK. You look kinda pale.

“Yeah I just think this whole lockdown and home schooling thing is wearing me down. I was OK first time around when it was just 2 a week but now I sometimes get 3 days with 5 kids and I miss Keanu!”

“Poor baby – you should see your doctor though if you don’t feel better soon …………… or maybe your OBGYN!” she said, whispering the last part.

“What?!”

“Don’t tell me it hasn’t occurred to you” Karina said incredulously. “You two are trying right?”

“What?”

‘What’ is all I seemed to be able to say! She started laughing then.

“Don’t worry,  he didn’t tell me anything, I just guessed by some stuff he said without realising and now here you are looking distinctly sickly …… and you were last together about a month ago right?”

I nodded, doing the maths and realising she had a point – I hadn’t had my period in how many weeks now? I hadn’t done the calculations, what with everything going on, it had totally slipped my mind.

I could feel the colour rising in my cheeks.

“you got a test at home?”

I shook my head.

“Well go get one right after this! – he’s home the day after tomorrow right? Well you might have a lovely surprise for him eh?”

After our meet up I went straight home deciding against getting a test  - I was paranoid about picking one up in person and someone recognising me and alerting the press.  Instead I ordered one from Amazon which would be delivered the next morning. Karina texted me a couple of hours later to ask if I had done a test and was frustrated to hear I’d not got one yet though she got why I had bottled it. I told her I wasn’t about to tell her the result before her brother anyway!

 He Said

I sank into the seat on the plane next to Chad, relieved to have the Russia shoot in the can. One of the stewards bought my requested Bloody Mary and I took a sip, a satisfied sigh leaving my lips.

“Happy?” Chad asked.

“Yeah, just glad to have a few days with Sophia if I’m honest. After this movie, my foot is coming off the pedal, I swear”

“Hard being away right? When you have a special someone at home that is?”

“Yup and she’s not been well this whole time  - she’s been doing all this home schooling and it’s too much on your own. I mean those kids are great but, you know, they bounce out of bed at 7 and they just keep on bouncing til 7 or 8 at night like Duracell bunnies!”

“And you want more?”

“What?!” I spluttered.

“Come on, I can tell. You’ve said too many things that have clued me in”

I was blushing fiercely but there was little point trying to hide this from Chad. He’d known me for over 20 years and could read me like a book.

“Oh man, I must be the most transparent person on the planet”

“nahh you’re good at being guarded when you need to but, I just know you, OK? Good luck to you. I hope it works out, you both deserve it”

“Thanks man”

We landed in the early evening  in LA. With the magic of the time difference, our bodies had had 12 hours of flight but it was just 2 hours after take off in terms of the time on the clock. I’d tried not to sleep too much but just enough so that I could stay awake till maybe 10 or 11pm  and then catch up on my sleep that evening. I’d then have a 5 day break with Sophia before heading back to New York for the rest of the shoot.

She Said

I was like a cat on a hit tin roof from 6pm when Keanu texted to say he’d landed. I got the kids ready for bed but let them wait in their PJs so they could see him  - he was there by 7.30. We kissed briefly in the entryway before he came into the house proper to greet the kids and thrill them with a Russian doll and traditional ushanka hat each.  We managed to get them off to bed by 8.30, finally collapsing on the sofa.

I nestled into Keanu’s side, relishing in the warmth and closeness I’d missed for the past 3 weeks.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked.

“No, I’m fine – the only thing that seems appealing is a hot chocolate before bed if I’m honest, I’m running on empty, trying to stay up as long as I can!”

“mmmm, me too and I don’t have the excuse of a long haul flight!”

“Are you ready for your gifts?”

“mmmm yes please”

He kissed my cheek and got up to hunt in his bag.

He’d got me a bottle of Beluga vodka and a gorgeous traditional Russian scarf with pretty red roses woven on a black background.

“Hey, I guess we could have a little welcome home shot on ice?”

 “Yeah sure”  

 “I’ll just get the glasses and I’ve got a little gift for you too.”

I went to the kitchen where my gift was already waiting on the counter and grabbed a shot glass and some ice and went back to the living room and sat down beside him again.

“Just one glass?” he queried.

“Yup, I don’t fancy it right now, sorry – anyway, here” I said handing him a small gift.

“You didn’t have to get my anything!”

“I kind of did” I said simply,  making him cock his eyebrow quizzically at me as he pulled on the ribbon and unwrapped my gift.   There was tissue paper inside which he  pulled open.

He was quiet for several seconds, staring down in his lap before he lifted his dark eyes to mine, a single tear escaping.

“Come ‘ere”

He Said

I  could often be taciturn, in difficult interviews for example, but it was rare for me to be rendered speechless yet that’s what I was after unwrapping Sophia’s gift. I’d never actually seen one before in real life, a strange thing to admit maybe for a 56 year old man, but there it was in my lap: A positive pregnancy test.  We’d done it, conceived at our combined age of nearly 100!,  without any great stress or strain and I was thrilled  - even in my jet lagged state I felt elated and I kissed and hugged Sophia until she couldn’t take any more!

We skipped the vodka and went straight to bed, talking briefly about the details before falling asleep, both  of us exhausted for our different reasons. I spooned behind her with my hand resting on her belly and her hand over mine and smiled as I drifted to sleep.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithk’eanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles @bitchyslut99

[invisibletinkerer]

Fic: The Secret Journal of 'Stanford' Pines

Size: ~3000 words AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20864183

Stan Pines keeps a journal of brief daily notes during the summer of 2012.

Note: We all know that the Gravity Falls timeline makes no sense whatsoever. Therefore this is based on a headcanon timeline I made a year or so ago, trying to incorporate as many of the canon dates (in show and published J3) as possible, but ignoring the ones that were contradictory or made no sense. This still means some episodes did not happen in a strictly chronological order.

June 1

Kids are here. I have no idea what to do. Why did I agree to this.

Boy is a grump and girl made macaroni art in the kitchen. Did I even have macaroni?

 June 2 Sunday

I think boy got spooked in the forest. He seems fine, though. Good taste in gold chains.

Girl is now dating some punk kid.

 June 3

Kids looked like they’d been run over by the golf cart when they got back tonight. Not good.

Gave them some free gifts from the shop to cheer em up. Yes I know

Boy got a new hat. Should get him to wear a Mystery Shack shirt next. Girl found a grappling hook that was not in my inventory. Bold choice.

What would they say if they knew about me?

June 4

Fishing Season Opening Day – took the kids fishing.

Of course, they got excited about monster hunting instead. They’re listening to reason about as well as I and Fo did as a kid.

But. They came back to me in the end. We had fun.

I love those kids.

 June 5

Soos found those cursed old wax statues I sealed up some ten years ago. Don’t seem all that cursed now. One had melted.

Mabel’s gonna make a new one for the wax museum. Meaning I’ll have to figure out how to make suckers pay to look at wax statues again.

 June 6

Mabel’s wax creation nearly gave me a heart attack. It looks just like my twin me.

She’s crazy talented.

 June 7

I’d say the wax museum reopening went well. Assuming “well” means “profit”.

Did anyone actually think I’d hand out free pizza?

 June 8

Hanging out with my wax twin Stan, and the moment I turned my back he was murdered.

 June 9 Sunday

Tried to hold a funeral for Wax Stan. Failed to keep it tounge-in-cheek.

Face it, Ford is long gone

 June 10

Guess the wax people were still as cursed as I remembered. Kids killed them with fire – I should have done that long ago.

Dipper crawled in the vents all day looking for a wax head that got away.

If I keep telling him he’s delusional, he’s got to stop looking for trouble eventually, right?

 June 11

Mabel decided I should date Lazy Susan. Couldn’t stop her. Now Susan and her cats keep calling me.

This was a bad idea. (I will never tell Mabel that.)

 June 12

Went on a date with Lazy Susan to shut her up. That ended just as well as expected.

Need to figure out some more specific excuses.

 June 13

The worst thing is, the Portal should work now. It’s functional. I just can’t get it to start.

Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong all along

I did fix that old copier. Don’t know if it still makes copies of people, but at least it makes copies of paper again.

Caught Dipper making oogly eyes at Wendy. I smell drama.

 June 14

Did not expect “The Duchess Approves” to be that good.

 June 15

The traditional Mystery Shack party that has nothing to do with any birthdays.

Mabel is a great singer, and that Northwest brat cheated.

Happy birthday, Sixer.

 June 16 Sunday

Gideon Gleeful’s running TV ads again.

Of course my family goes to his show just to spite me.

 June 17

Mabel played with Gideon today. Did not see that one coming.

As long as she’s happy, I guess.

 June 18

I hate Pioneer Day.

Stupid people acting even stupider than normal, nothing works, then someone (me) ends up in the stocks.

 June 19

Gideon and Mabel are dating!?

Seemed like a horrible idea, but Bud Gleeful has a point on the moneymaking opportunities if we play it right.

 June 20

So if Mabel marries Gideon, his business will be incorporated into mine. I sure like the sound of that.

Bud is already making t-shirts.

 June 21

 June 22

OK, no. No deals with the Gleefuls. Not now or ever.

Mabel broke up with the little pest. Good riddance.

Got me a nice painting from Bud’s house, though.

 June 23 Sunday

The Mystery Fair! It may look cheap, but it brings in the money.

Though someone broke all safety protocols and brought a futuristic laser gun to Dunkle the Grunkle. That’s unfair.

Mabel has a pig now.

 June 24

Got roped into the gaming arcade with the kids.

Maybe get one of those games for the Shack?

 June 25

Mabel decided to fix my fear of heights.

I can say this – being on top of a water tower about to fall over was unpleasant. Compared to that, a high but stable ground isn’t so bad.

Dipper got into a fistfight with Wendy’s boyfriend over teenage drama, but good on him for standing up for himself.

 June 26

For some reason Gideon has gotten it into himself that he wants the Mystery Shack now.

Good luck, kid. I’m a better conman than you’ll ever be.

 June 27

Mabel is slightly taller than Dipper. This is funny.

Gideon Gleeful trying to be threatening while throwing a hysterical fit after breaking my new mirror maze – mostly confusing. Wish I knew what went on in that kid’s head.

 June 28

Kids made me wear the golden teeth. Guess they think I’m a dishonest man.

Fortunately, I’m good at bullshitting even when telling the truth. Think I scandalized the poor things. Hilarious.

Could have been disaster, though. Could have easily made them hate me.

 June 29

Spent half the day falling down the Bottomless Pit.

 June 30 Sunday

Summerween, now that’s a respectable local holiday.

Scaring children for fun and profit. Celebrating true evil together with family.

 July 1

Hottest day of the year. Wax Stan was permanently murdered by the weather.

Closed the Shack and went to the municipal pool with the kids.

Gideon stole my perfect pool chair. It’s on.

 July 2

Broke into the pool area at night to get the chair to myself. Which was a good plan, until I wanted to get up later in the day. The pest had coated it with glue.

The kids broke into the pool at night, too. Didn’t ask.

 July 3

Opened the Shack again.

Can’t be too lazy. Tourists to fleece and all that.

 July 4

 July 5

Mabel bet she could run the Shack better than I can. Well. I’m nothing if not a gambler.

So, three days of vacation, in which I will make more money than she will make running the Shack. Winner takes the Shack, loser sings a silly song.

Best case scenario, she learns something about business and stops complaining. Worst case, she actually makes money and then runs the Shack for me the rest of the summer. Not bad.

 July 6

Made it past the line to be a contestant on Cash Wheel, using my Old Man powers and lack of common decency.

Why is it so hard to sleep

 July 7 Sunday

Well. I lost at Cash Wheel.

Guess that means I lost the bet with Mabel, too. Unless I go rob a bank or something in the time I have left. Hm.

 July 8

Turns out Mabel barely broke even when running the Shack. She did win the bet, but she didn’t want my job, no surprise there.

I’m proud of her for learning something.

She still made me sing that song. On video tape. It’s kinda catchy.

 July 9

Mabel’s friends came for a sleepover. They make a lot of noice.

 July 10

Soos managed to uncover the door to Ford’s that old study I sealed thirty years ago the very moment the kids demanded separate bedrooms.

I never wanted to see that room again. His glasses were still there

Guess they didn’t want the room in the end, but now it’s open. Can’t re-seal it.

I think they messed around with the freaky carpet. Took it away at the end of the day just in case.

 July 11

I fucked up, but I fixed it.

I got Mabel’s pig back, even when I had to punch a pterodactyl in the face for it.

She doesn’t hate me.

I love that kid so much.

 July 12

That weird egg I pocketed from the dino-cave hatched. Dipper says it’s a compo-whatnot.

I call him Compy. He’s now my Mystery Pet.

 July 13

Soos’ birthday. The kids tried to throw a party, which is. Bad idea.

Think he appreciated laser tag, though. And the magic pizza they got him. Never seen him so happy on a birthday.

 July 14 Sunday

Turns out Compy is a very tiny dragon. Hoards stuff, mostly cash. In places I can’t reach.

It’s no good. Gonna hand the chicken-lizard over to farmer Sprott first thing in the morning before he bankrupts me.

 July 15

Mabel and her friends went to some boy band concert. Got back late with a large pack of spoils. Probably robbed someone.

Wendy’s boyfriend is charming her with homemade music. Dipper suspects magic. Can’t rule that out.

 July 16

There was a hypnotic message in the music, but telling Wendy about it only made the teenage drama worse.

Went bowling with Dipper afterwards to cheer him up. Should have a chat with Wendy, too.

 July 17

Gideon   I’m   How could

Didn’t know Gideon was that serious.

As if half-lucid dreams about that yellow triangle wasn’t bad enough. (The kids know something. Not asking. I want them to stay away from that stuff.)

We’re staying with Soos as I panic figure out how to fix this.

 July 18

I can’t fix this.

Gideon’s got the whole town eating out of his hand and I’m just a grouchy old man.

Doing the responsible thing. Got bus tickets to send the kids home tomorrow.

Whatever I do next, don’t want them to watch.

 July 19

GIDEON IS A LITTLE SHIT AND I AM AWESOME.

Figured out his trick, proved it in public and now he’s in jail.

Got the Shack back. Got the kids back.

And. Get this. Gideon had one of Ford’s missing journals. I have it now.

 July 20

I can’t believe it. Dipper. Had the third journal all summer.

All three of the dumb books are right here in front of me.

I activated the Portal. Simple as anything.

It’s scanning for Ford right now.

I’m actually bringing him back.

 July 21 Sunday

Grand reopening of the Mystery Shack turned into a zombie-fest.

Kids could’ve died because I was too busy with the Portal to pay attention. That won’t happen again.

Should have talked to them about weirdness sooner. Hope they believed me when I said I have no more secrets.

A little worried that government might have picked up signals from the Portal.

 July 22

Repairing the Shack. Too much undead slime to attract tourists like this.

 July 23

Re-reopened the Shack.

Dipper got himself an old laptop computer from somewhere. Probably stolen. He tried to hide it.

 July 24

Went minigolfing with the kids.

Mabel challenged Pacifica Northwest to a duel at midnight. I’m so proud of her.

Letting kids into minigolf courts at night to take a rich snob down a few pegs – finally putting my skills to good use.

 July 25

I still can’t believe the Portal works.

It keeps scanning.

 July 26

Tried to bring old Goldie back to the gift shop but apparently he’s unhip and scary. Had to throw him away before the parents sued me.

What I do need is a singing animatronic robot badger. That’s what kids like these days.

 July 27

Soos missed work for the first time ever. Seems to be girl trouble, but the kids are handling it.

Would’ve stolen myself a robot badger if it hadn’t tried to kill me. Saved by old Goldie. No way I’m not keeping him now.

 July 28 Sunday

Went for a Vegas vacation because I deserve it.

Not because I’m nervous.

Brought Goldie, might have gotten slightly drunk. And slightly married.

 July 29

Mabel found herself a new obsession with hand puppets.

She’ll throw a big show on Friday. Made me rent Gravity Falls theatre for her. (Can’t believe I did that.)

 July 30

The Shack is full of sock puppets and kids and Mabel keeps singing.

Guess this is my life now.

 July 31

 August 1

Soos went to his cousin’s wedding with his new girlfriend. Good on him.

Mabel’s still obsessing about puppets.

Dipper looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Can’t blame him with all this ruckus.

 August 2

Play was good! Think it paid for the costs, too. Mabel’s got showmanship.

Don’t get the ending, though.

I mean. Children fighting always makes for good footage, but was it necessary to beat Dipper up that bad? I swear Mabel don’t know how strong she is.

A little worried about Dipper. He seemed high as a kite all day. Probably sleep deprivation. At least he’s sleeping now.

 August 3

 August 4 Sunday

Gravity’s going more crazy around the Portal the longer it’s on, but I don’t care.

It hasn’t found Ford yet.

It won’t find him if he’s dead

 August 5

The Portal ate my notebook.

Got a nasty cut on the back of my hand from some debris, too. Could have been worse.

 August 6

Tried to advertise the Mystery Shack for the kids at the Woodstick Festival. Hilarious disaster.

Being feared is worth more than being loved anyway.

 August 7

 August 8

IT FOUND HIM.

He’s alive. There’s a lock on his position.

Fuck I don’t  I have to

I know how it works. It needs to calibrate for a while. It needs to be fueled for the big moment.

I’ll go rob a government facility right now.

(So glad the kids are off at the Northwest party tonight.)

27 hours and then I’ll see him again.

 August 9

Ford is back.

I had to run from the feds and the kids found out everything the wrong way but it worked and he’s back.

But he doesn’t  He still hates me.  

Why would I expect anything else.

Don’t know what I’d do with myself if the kids weren’t here.

It’s fine. I fucked up everything, but. Mabel trusts me. Dipper forgives me. I’m fine.

not crying

 August 10 Sunday

The Shack needs repairs again.

Spent most of the day making Duck-tective finale preparations with Mabel. We had fun.

Told the kids to stay away from Ford.

 August 11

Dipper has predictably decided to be nerd friends with my brother.

Can’t stop him. He looks happy. Both of them do.

Still can’t figure out why Ford would have reality altering dice lying around in his sci-fi pouch.

Anyway. I knew Duck-tective had an evil twin.

 August 12

I hate everything.

Ford will take my his place here soon enough, does he have to undercut me while I’m still here?

I’m running for mayor now.

 August 13

Kids are helping me with a political campaign. Apparently I know nothing about politics and have unpalatable opinions. Bah.

 August 14

The Stump Speech went great! I relax, words happen, people cheer.

Dipper got a lucky tie for me. Think it really works.

 August 15

Should’ve tried being a politician before. Almost feels like people like me.

 August 16

Nope. Politics is not for me. Too much mind control.

Should’ve known it wasn’t me making those speeches.

(The kids shouldn’t get into politics either. Can’t always be there to save them from murder.)

Turns out I’m not mayor material, but I’m a HERO.

Take that, Ford.

 August 17

Rented an RV and took Soos and the kids and Mabel’s friends on a road trip.

Pranking the tourist traps. Good old Mystery Shack tradition for the last time.

Dipper’s practising flirting like a pro.

 August 18 Sunday

Almost got eaten by a spider-woman. That could have gone better.

Have to admit, the kids are heroes too.

Don’t think Ford noticed we were gone.

 August 19

Opened the Mystery Shack for the final stretch.

Two more weeks, then I’m gone for good.

 August 20

Made a good deal on illegal pugs. Still got it.

Ford and Dipper put some magic mojo on the Shack. Not gonna ask.

Might have something to do with how badly Ford is sleeping.

 August 21

Ten days left until the kids’s birthday and the end of summer.

Guess I’m doing a countdown now.

 August 22

Nine days left.

 August 23

Eight days left.

I’m gonna order a ponytail kit.

 August 24

HELL NO I DON’T NEED THIS.

It’s the literal end of the world and the kids are missing.

Suddenly orange skies, goats turning into monsters, the whole shebang. I thought I had enough troubles.

That magic on the Shack seems to be protecting it, but. THE KIDS ARE MISSING. So is Ford.

 ??? 1

Day and night are replaced by eternal glowing orange and every single clock is busted, so no more dates.

Went out looking for the kids, but all I find is other people. Also demons. No sign of Soos or Wendy, either.

Been taking people to the Shack. Safest place on Earth for all I know. I have enough brown meat and elected myself Chief.

The kids are fine. Probably with Ford. That’s the ticket.

 ??? 2

Went out looking again. Found the Northwest girl dressed in nothing but a potato sack. She was crying and I don’t want to know, but she didn’t deserve it.

Been told the head honcho is the yellow triangle. He calls this Weirdmageddon.

Old McGucket showed up more coherent than usual, herding a whole flock of forest creatures into the Shack. Starting to get crowded here.

The kids are fine. Of course they are.

 ??? 3

There’s still people alive out there. I heard cars over at Gleeful’s place.

Didn’t see anyone else.

I’ve lost  I couldn’t even

Mabel and Dipper are definitely still alive. So is Soos and Wendy. And Ford better be.

 ??? 4

They’re alive!

All four of my kids, bursting through the door like cops doing a raid but they’re alive!

Now all I want is for them to stay here and be safe. Why can’t they see that?

I’m done saving my brother’s skin and getting nothing but scorn for it.

Ford made his own bed with that demon. Forget it.

 ??? 5

Did I mention, the plan concocted by five kids, Soos, and a known madman is utterly insane?

They’re rebuilding the Shack. I just had it repaired, too.

It’s my house, but no one’s listening to me.

 ??? 6

I keep having this bad feeling about Ford.

It’s dumb. My brother has made it perfectly clear how he feels about being saved.

 ??? 7

Well then.

Not letting the kids lead an apocalypse rebellion against a demonic triangle without me.

 August 25 Sunday

 August 26

 August 27

 August 28

Huh. I can’t remember writing this, but it does ring a few bells.

It’s like I

I need to talk to Ford.

 August 29

So. The apocalypse is over, and we’re all fine.

We killed the demon by burning my mind out when he was inside, pretty much.

My mind’s still there, but it’s kinda. Well. In need of repair.

Spent a few days reliving good memories.

Turns out there’s more than a few bad ones, too. But.

Everyone is so good to me

I don’t deserve this

 August 30

I remember how Ford looked at me after I brought him back.

Now he acts like  he likes to   he thinks I’m

Now it’s like he’s my brother again.

He said. “Thank you.”

 August 31

The kids have left. I’ll miss them, but I’ll see them again.

Until then, my brother and I are going sailing.