#I ain’t taking any more of these quizzes I say

[direwombat]

OC INTERVIEW

tagged by @carlosoliveiraa, @aceghosts, @finding-comfort-in-rain, @cassietrn, @g0dspeeed, and @simplegenius042 for a little oc interview! making this kind of a part 2 to this oc interview i did a while ago.

“Jesus Christ,” Sybille hisses, sinking into the folding chair set up on the other side of Wheaty’s desk, haggard and weary from six weeks of nonstop fighting. “Are we really doin’ this shit again?”

He regards her, equally exhausted, and sighs. “It’s for morale, Dep. People gotta remember you’re human too.”

“Why?” she scowls. “Aint’ it more inspirin’ if they think I’m Wonder Woman or some shit?”

“Yeah, well, Wonder Woman has literal super powers,” Wheaty says. The attempt at levity falls flat, as Sybille levels him with a glare. “Look,” he sighs, “I know it seems counterintuitive to you, but reminding the people that you’re a person, just like them, will help inspire them to keep fighting against the Cult. Normal life is almost back in the Valley, you know? We gotta remind them that the fight’s still going.” 

She’s silent for a long moment, before ultimately relenting. “Fine. Ask ya damn questions.”

WHEATY: Name? 

SYBILLE: Sybille Marie La Roux. 

WHEATY: Nickname? 

SYBILLE: Was “Sarge” for a while. Mostly just “Dep” or “Syb” these days. 

Editor’s note: Also “Sweetheart/Honey/Jackrabbit” if your name is Jacob Seed. 

WHEATY: Gender? 

SYBILLE: [Rustling of fabric as she shrugs] Female

WHEATY: Star sign? 

SYBILLE: Taurus

WHEATY: Moon and rising?

SYBILLE: What now?

Editor’s note: She’s a Scorpio Moon and Capricorn Rising. 

WHEATY: Personality type? 

SYBILLE: The fuck does that mean?

WHEATY: Y'know. Like. Uh. Your Myers-Briggs or Enneagram type.

SYBILLE: I dunno what any of those words mean.

WHEATY: Y'know what, here. Let me call Xander up and see if he has the quizzes handy.

SYBILLE: The what now?

[A painful half-hour of listening to Sybille take various personality quizzes live on the air]

SYBILLE: [Very slowly] “Lawful Neutral,” “ISTJ,” “Type 8w9,” and “choleric.” [Long pause] Wheaty, all these words are nonsense.

WHEATY: Height? 

SYBILLE: 5'9"

WHEATY: Orientation?

SYBILLE: [Muttering] Jesus Christ. [Louder] I’m bisexual and I ain’t lookin’. 

Editor's note: The rest of the county doesn't know she's taken by this point.

WHEATY: Nationality/Ethnicity?

SYBILLE: American. Cajun French. 

WHEATY: Favorite Fruit? 

SYBILLE: [Sighs wistfully] I’d kill for a mango or nectarine. 

WHEATY: Favorite Season? 

SYBILLE: Spring. But since movin’ to Montana, I understand the appeal of autumn. 

WHEATY: Favorite Flower? 

SYBILLE: Hibiscus.

WHEATY: Favorite Scent? 

SYBILLE: Fresh coffee. Pine. Frankincense. Shit, I dunno, it’s hard to pick just one. 

WHEATY: Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: 

SYBILLE: Coffee. Black. 

WHEATY: Average Hours of Sleep: 

SYBILLE: [Long silence] Not nearly enough.  

Editor’s Note: Between 4-5 on a good day; closer to 2-3 on bad ones. 

WHEATY: Dog or Cat Person? 

SYBILLE: [Rustling of fabric as she leans over to pet Boomer] I like both, but overall ‘m more of a dog person.  

WHEATY: Dream Trip? 

SYBILLE: Shit, it really is a dream trip now, ain’t it? Woulda liked to’ve roadtripped ‘round Australia, but I doubt that’ll ever happen, now.

WHEATY: Favorite Fictional/Real Character? 

SYBILLE: Jesus, I dunno. Trinity from the Matrix, I guess. 

WHEATY: Yeah, I can see that. 

WHEATY: Number of Blankets You Sleep With? 

SYBILLE: Depends on where I end up sleepin’. ‘F I can find a cabin or bunker, then one or two. Otherwise it’s just my leather jacket. 

WHEATY: Random Fact? 

SYBILLE: Was on the track team my freshman and sophomore years of high school, before I had to drop out.

this one has been going around so sorry for any double tags, but, tagging: @marivenah, @corvosattano, @trench-rot, @harmonyowl, @fourlittleseedlings, @purplehairsecretlair, @adelaidedrubman, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @voidika, @locustandwildhoney, @testyfestyenthusiast, @strangefable, @inafieldofdaisies, @alexxmason, @deputyash, @josephslittledeputy, and anyone else wanting to do this for their ocs!

[nerdychick13]

Hello again my lovelies! It’s another beautiful day in the villa. The sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, and the hotties are grafting hard (present company included). We have a lot to unpack from the last couple of days. Let’s get started, shall we?

I love puzzles, so a riddle and a scavenger hunt are a great way to start the day in my humble opinion. It was so obvious that the answer to the riddle was the swing seat but I must say I was rather disappointed when I first saw Elliot. He’s not the kind of guy I usually am attracted to. Chloe, however, had my full attention from her first entrance. She is gorgeous, gorgeous, GORGEOUS! She has a lithe dancer’s body and a sassy mouth. I am quite pleased that Chloe expressed some interest in me. Given the chance I’d couple with her. It would be so much fun to share my bed with a hottie like her. I worried a little when I saw her flirting with Ozzy. Grace really tickled me when she said her and Ozzy are solid. I know that’s not the adjective I’d use to describe their relationship. Perhaps a better choice would be shaky or undecided. I have all my eggs in Ozzy’s basket, but he isn’t ready to commit to me just yet. That’s okay. If he wants to be with Grace, I’ll just have to play the field until he makes up his mind. Sadly, one sexy, cream-filled night in the Hideaway made Roberto mine for life. I really regret how attached he has become. It has been a day, two tops. Branch out and get to know other people my dear. I answered all the questions right except for the last one. Who knew both Elliot and Chloe had kissed celebrities! Well, now that we are on a nationally syndicated television program, I guess we are all celebrities. I didn’t want Elliot to take me out on a date, but I do love how he was able to throw back any insult dealt to him. I love a man with a backbone! Chloe was grafting Roberto pretty hard. But I give as good as I get, so I kicked some chocolate off of Elliot’s cheek. I do have a weakness for chocolate and food play. My date with Elliot was quite nice. He is such a thoughtful guy, supporting his family with his earnings. Now that I have gotten to know him, I am rather pleased to be coupled with Elliot. Too bad it will only last until the next recoupling. Ozzy once again has proven he is king of my heart. He loves a quiz! As a lady who does personality quizzes for fun and participated in trivia contests every weekend last year, I can say for certain that Ozzy and I have reached another level of compatibility. And he stepped up to Roberto to show he isn’t the only hunk in the villa (sorry Elliot but you’re barely a slice of ham at this point).

Now, let’s talk about Amy. That girl needs to get her own fridge because she keeps eating my leftovers! First she picks Zeph off after he left me for his tour. Then she comes in the villa and chases down Jamal (who the public pairs her with). Then she and Roberto kiss on my bed. And now she thinks Elliot might be right for her. And today she copies my green outfit! She keeps inserting herself into my business. Just because we share DNA doesn’t mean we have to share a life. But I chill. She hasn’t shown any interest in Ozzy and hopefully she won’t ever. I can’t take much more of Amy pulling my arm this way or that for a chat or random eavesdrop session. I’m still scratched up from hiding in that damn bush! Girl needs to get a partner she can cuddle with so I can have some peace in the villa (but viewers if you could vote Amy out of the villa, I’d take that too ����). Did I mention how Amelia immediately recognized Elliot? How many celebs has she banged? More than I have, that’s for sure. I do wish she would just tell us whatever big thing she has to say. She is making it easy for somebody else to reveal this horrible thing when I should hear it from her. Of course she is. Amy has never been forthcoming. She ain’t honest, faithful, or true. So I am pretty sure whatever it is won’t paint her in a good light. Unless she’s lying. I will cross that broken bridge when I get to it I guess.

Lewie has some new found confidence! He’s been socializing with other islanders more lately. I’m proud of him. He is such a sweet guy and a good friend to Bella and I. I’ve made it clear he is in the friendzone and we are both happy with that. Maybe Amelia would be the right girl for him, given the chance. Elliot and Lewie look like they could be distant cousins. Interesting, no? Well that does it for me. I have one sweet ball of cotton candy to get back to (that’s Elliot FYI), a couple of dancers to graft, and an unwanted twin to ditch along the way. Until next time…

[nuttysaladtree]

The original tags:

#goncharov#pronounciation#languages#russian language#today I remembered that tweet that’s like white people can’t pronounce POC names but they can say Tchaikovsky. and I kinda hate it because#no they can’t they cannot pronounce Tchaikovsky at all. please get a better example#English speakers of any race usually say chai-COUGH-skeee. that’s equivalent to white people calling jalapeños holla-PEEN-yo’s#also when I was in like middle school I took this summer cooking class thing and one day the teacher was quizzing us on food from around the#world and she asked us if we know where pillmini are from. nobody knew so she said they’re actually a type of Russian dumpling! my jaw#dropped when I realized she was trying to say пельмени (pyel’myeni) like ain’t no way#anyway how do you guys say Goncharov#not that there’s a right or wrong way to pronounce a fictional name unlike those real words in the other tags I’m just curious#I mean there’s a right way to pronounce a real person’s name if they’re actually called goncharov but I’m talking about the character

Stupid cot-caught merger! #%^*ing hurry-furry merger!

Something like /ˌgɒntʃɹɒf/ or -v? I am unfamiliar with IPA, tried speaking super fast to transcribe the most "natural" pronunciation, cried at the table and footnotes at https://enwp.org/Help:IPA/English, and tried my best to verify it with http://ipa-reader.xyz (reliability unknown). IPA aside, in English, Goncharov is more dactylic (stress-unstressed-unstressed) than amphibrachic (unstressed-stressed-unstressed).

I know no Latin (and barely know a Romance language as it is), so I once asked someone who learned Latin if Cicero's name is really pronounced [ˈkɪkɛroː]. And she said, "It's [ˈkɪkɛroː] in Latin and /ˈsɪsəroʊ/ in English."

If we, in that vein, take Russian name and English name to differ from each other, I wonder if it is more about genuine effort than actual versimilitude to the original. @\becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys (ai think) posted earlier this year expressing her frustration at an English lecturer just did not even try to pronounce Welsh words relevant to the lecture they were giving (this is in the context of centuries of the English systemic destroying and displaying contempt for the Welsh language and culture). There's the @\proZD skit where he's literally teaches monolingual English-language speakers how to say his name (SungWon) and he shows in his experience that they're not even close ("Sonwin???" is how the skit goes, I think) even though fairly close sounds exist in English.

Can you guys rb this or comment with how you pronounce “Goncharov”? I didn’t really think anything of it until one of my friends said it out loud and I was like huh? I think it’s interesting how people can have different pronunciations of a word or name they’ve never heard out loud in their head an not question it. For reference, I’m a native Russian speaker and I’ve always read it like gohn-CHArohv and my US American friend said GAHNCHA-rahv.

[theageoftheunderstatement]

Triple J: Arctic Monkeys' Alex Turner talks Lego, videogames, and new album The Car

Written by Al Newstead, 25/10/2022

It only takes one test drive of The Car – Arctic Monkeys’ first new album in four years – to hear that it picks up right where the subversive, slower sound of Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino left off.

Characterised by lush string orchestrations and spacious production, it's an album designed for luxuriating in rather than stomping along to.

Fans shouldn’t have anticipated otherwise. A full six months before The Car’s release, drummer Matt Helders managed expectations, saying:

"I mean, it’s never gonna be like ‘R U Mine?’ and all that stuff again, you know like, the heavy riffs and stuff."

And with one quote, a stake was driven through the hopeful heart of Arctic Monkeys fans wishing for a return to the hooky, leather-jacketed rock of AM (voted by triple j listeners as the best album of 2013). But then again, it was a pretty naïve position to assume they would.

Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino was - and even more so with the benefit of hindsight - a transitional record. It might have felt like whiplash transitioning from AM’s burly, horny riffs to a sci-fi obsessed lounge act but it was a pretty clear statement of artistic intent that Arctic Monkeys would no longer be repeating themselves.

“I don’t think it’s as easy to get back there as perhaps it seems like it is. That’s what I’ve found,” frontman Alex Turner tells triple j.

“Every time I’ve sort of thought about attempting to go in a direction that you’ve been before, it sort of feels – quite quickly – sounds like a spoof or something. I think we’ve always just been following the same instincts we were in the beginning. That hasn’t really changed.”

Quizzed about what he might retort to fans taken back by their shift in direction, unwilling to follow the band on their artistic journey, he replies candidly – with thoughtful pauses between: “I guess there aren’t really the riffs that there once were in any of this new stuff. But there’s a bunch of guitar on there… No is probably the answer. No, it won’t bring them back,” he chuckles. “I was skirting around it there.”

At its best, The Car drifts along on sultry, retro arrangements that accompany Alex Turner’s aching croon and newly refined falsetto, swooning on ‘Perfect Sense’ and peacocking in ‘I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am’.

For what it’s worth, the climax of ‘Body Paint’ and the bouncing ‘Hello You’ put a little more pulse and vitality into the band’s performances but overall, the album is moody, melancholy and treads the line between soft and sleepy a little too dangerously at times.

Critics of the Monkeys’ shift to a smokier, stranger sound on TBH&C won’t find much more to love about The Car. Those that embraced it, will.

As Turner points out, those older records are always there to be pressed play on. And they’re still a huge part of their world class live show – Arctic Monkeys will be back on our shores to prove it, headlining East Coast shows and a bunch of festivals.

It’s clear that the teenage scribe who came up with poetic ways of describing lust - in tunes like ‘505’, ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ and ‘Suck It And See’ – is long gone.

Turner’s songwriting is one of the most unique evolutions in the realms of Big Rock Bands that graduated from the 2000s indie sleaze era.

Once famed for the sharply drawn suburban settings and memorable characters that filled his songs, he’s progressed into a dapper-suited, Scott Walker/Serge Gainsbourg-obsessed lounge lizard singing surreal ‘70s-styled spy movie ballads.

Another pre-album quote that defined The Car’s introduction saw Turner promising that “on this record, sci-fi is off the table. We are back to Earth.”

What that really equates to is more cryptic lyrical ruminations that drift ambiguously between autobiography and fiction, and whose meanings only really make sense to the musician who penned them.

His biting lyrical wit still surfaces – the line ‘puncturing your bubble of reliability with your horrible new sound’ (from 'Scultptures of Anything Goes') is easy to interpret as a cheeky moment of self-awareness – but largely, he’s weaving velvety verses out of real mouthfuls.

‘For a master of deception and subterfuge, you’ve made yourself quite the bed to lie in. Do your time travelling through the tanning booth, so you don’t let the sun catch you crying’ goes ‘Body Paint’.

‘And if we guess who I’m pretending to be/ Do we win a prize? Having attempted twice, both incorrectly / Do we get a third try?’  goes ‘Mr. Schwartz.

There’s also a big throughline fixation with show business. There’s references to cinema, film crews and techniques, musical theatre, orchestras, composition, and 'performing in Spanish on Italian TV'.

In the opening of ‘Hello You’, Turner sings: ‘Lego Napoleon movie written in noble gas-filled glass tubes/Underlined in sparks/I’ll admit it’s elaborate for a wakin’ thought’

So… what’s going on there?

“Yeah, what is that all about!?’ Turner jokes.

“Well, I suppose it’s a lyric sort of about having ideas is what’s going on there,” he explains.

“I remember reading about [director Stanley] Kubrick was going to make a Napoleon movie, maybe they had a script for it already. I was daydreaming one day and was imagining the Lego Batman people getting hold of that script and surprising everybody.”

When the conversation turns to the ever-popular series of Lego videogames, Turner notes:

“You know what, man. I haven’t played a videogame for about… I’m going to say 12 years. I got really into the last one I was playing, then just had to take a step back.” The game? Metal Gear Solid, the iconic series from auteur (and Monkeys fan) Hideo Kojima, famed for their elaborate espionage plots and immersive cinematics as much as their stealth action.

It’s James Bond as imagined by an artsy, anxious mind preoccupied with nuclear conspiracy theories and flaunting genetic destiny, with a tendency to (scarily) predict future world events.

“Wow, I didn’t think we were going Metal Gear Solid in this interview,” he laughs. “I’m going to be sorry I said that now.”

He can’t remember specifically what pulled him away from the controller but “thought I’d better make some records or something.”

The young singer-guitarist who came to fame betting that you looked good on the dancefloor may have grown up, but the spectre of teenage Turner – the scrappy Sheffield lad who made it big on MySpace with his indie rock tales of naughtiness – still haunts the adult Turner.

“He’s been cropping up a few times today, 19-year-old Alex. I’ve been time travelling all day long doing some interviews today,” says the frontman.

And what advice might the world-wise 36-year-old, seven albums deep into his career, give his younger self? “Well, whatever I could think of, I’d imagine it would fall on deaf ears.”

The volume might’ve been turned down from Arctic Monkeys’ electric introduction nearly 20 years ago, but the spirit of challenging themselves remains.

Whatever people say Alex Turner is. That’s what he’s not.

[godtiertalk]

What’s up, long time no see.

I’m probably not re-opening this blog (but shit’s wild out here these days, so who knows).

What I am doing, however, is giving you all my magnum opus:

Homestuck Aspects, But Fucky.

Are you sick of Aspect quizzes where the answer is weirdly self-evident and you feel a terrible compulsion to “aim” for you “preferred” aspect?

Well, motherfucker, have I got the quiz for you. Every single one of these “questions” is nonsense, every single answer is absurdity, and every single person I tested it on got the right aspect at the end.*

*My sample size was three people this is a meaningless claim.

Take the quiz at your leisure, and then when you’re done and remembering the Ancient Days of Quizilla where you got to see what all the personality types were at the end after getting yours?

Head on back to this post, where I am putting all 12 answers below this cut.

Oh damn, you're a power player (even if you don't want to admit it). You're probably pretty okay at being The Mom Friend (even though you don't want to be it). You may be immortal, it's really hard to be sure. Either way, there are a lot of people out there who envy your psychological stability. The joke's on them though, you're approximately as stable as Pluto's orbit: you only look that way from a distance.

Rage

How's your blood pressure? Good? Good. With that in mind, take a deep breath. Feel the air move past your teeth, into your chest. A relentless cycle of in and out that only stops on your command, and otherwise persists. That's you. You persist, at your own command, unyielding. Good for you.

Time

TIME TO FUCK SHIT UP MORE LIKE. Whether this means "fucking up the enemy" or "fucking up your own very good plans and intentions" is hard to say. But rest assured, the shit is fucked.

Mind

My girlfriend is a mind player, so you're probably my favourite. Unfortunately, beneath the well practiced veneer of professional chill, your anxieties are not merely infinite, but one of the larger infinities available, and definitely still growing.

Hope

Hey!!! Sorry if your depression is still untreated or uncontrolled! But the good news is, you haven't died yet, and you aren't going to die any time soon, which means all those weird notions you have of what to do next (the ones that keep competing with each other for your limited brain space)? You get to do them. Literally roll the dice and pick one, we all know you're going to nail it.

Life

Everyone else's problems are everyone else's problems. You do not actually need to fix them, even though the temptation is SO REAL. I promise, no one is going to think less of you for taking some time to focus on your own shit. In fact (brace yourself) they probably won't notice at all, because being obsessed with other people's issues instead of your own makes you very bad at handling either. You're already a good person. You don't need to prove it. But you know what good people deserve? Some fucking self care.

Heart

You know what you want in life. Maybe not how to get it, exactly, but you know your own end goal, and holy SHIT I wish that were me. Hold onto that self awareness, even as you may need to let other parts of your ego go. Never forget what you want, what you truly, really want.

Blood

Friends, family, and dearest loved ones. We are gathered here today to witness the union between disparate souls, coming together to create something more than their parts. (You're the fucking officiant in this wedding scenario, so get good at the rituals of socialization quick, babe).

Doom

Okay, doomer. I'm sorry, neither you, I, nor any other Doom player deserved that. But for real though, press F for yourself and show some goddamn self-respect. Ain't anyone the fuck else going to do it. Which means it's up to you, as usual. Good thing practice has already perfected your capacity to ignore your own suffering and get to the fucking point.

Light

I cannot decide if calling you "Jace Beleren but it's real life instead of a card game" would be an insult or a compliment, which I think really neatly captures your whole deal. Your wikipedia-like breadth of skills and knowledge is commendable, but I am begging you to slow down. Science isn't going to disappear just because you took a long weekend and an extra hot bath. Life is short, but damn, it's not THAT short.

Void

Are you okay? Like, in a broad, existential sense. I understand that it is extremely tempting to throw your hands up and turn your back on the world's relentless chaos and brazen stupidity. But, it's your world too. There are parts of it worth holding. Even now, even here, there are parts worth loving, and you are one of them. I know you don't want to take that on faith. I know with neither evidence nor proofs it sounds like I'm blowing it out my ass. But you actually, really, genuinely are.

Breath

Flighty (complimentary). Intuitive (derogatory). Fun (gender). Stop knowing things about other people without being told, and instead try knowing things about yourself. Yeah, I know that fucking sucks, but unfortunately, self awareness is important! Anyway, while you're busy not knowing your truth, at least you're fun as hell. Here's a bit of self-insight for free: you hang out with your friends because you LIKE them, it's okay to just like people.

[parvulous-writings]

Karl Heisenberg // SFW alphabet

Request: So there was no actual request, I just knew this would cheer up my closest friend. 

Dedicated to: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker

Summary: A sfw A-Z for Karl Heisenberg, from Resident Evil Village!

Warnings: Explicit language

Notes: Please, have some Soft!Heisenberg, bor. It’s one of the many, many things you deserve.  To those who have requested oneshots- I am working on them, please be patient! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

He’s never affectionate publicly. Behind closed doors, though- well maybe he’s not your stereotypical lovey-dovey type, but hey-ho, he shows it in his own little way. A few hugs, but mostly through making you things. Music boxes, little figures and robots that wind up, you name it, he’ll try and make it. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He’s not a friendly man, typically. He’s cold, and driven only by his motives. It takes a long time for him to warm up to you, but when he eventually does he is always by your side, whenever you should need him. Be it for violence, or for an ear to pour your thoughts into- even though half the time you swear he’s not listening completely. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Heisenberg likes warm cuddles above all others. The kind where he can pull you close and hold you there for a while- he likes feeling you against his chest. It’s comforting to him, after years of no affection and a torturous living experience. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Karl is not particularly skilled in any domestic skill. He’s very mediocre at cooking, and he can’t clean to save his life- his factory is littered with dust and other probably very harmful particles. He isn’t very good in a domestic environment at all, really. 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Blunter than a broken pencil I’m afraid. He’s never had to hide something from you in the past, so why should this be any different? He would not want to beat around the bush here, he’d annoy himself with pleasantries and euphemisms. 

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

He’s perfectly fine staying as partners, without marriage looming over the pair of you. Quite frankly, he doesn’t think it’s worth it.  “A piece of damn paper to show someone your fucking devotion? Bullshit.” 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Unless you’re shaking like a leaf or have specifically asked him to be gentle with or around you, he’s not going to be. He’ll treat you much how he treats most others- with a little bit of affection for zest and flavour every now and then. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

While he likes cuddles, he isn’t a huge fan of hugs. He thinks they’re too short to show any real affection, and often get in the way of whatever task the recipient is trying to perform.  

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

S l o w l y. This man has gone through some stuff, and doesn’t want to get attached to people despite falling for you. Give him a chance. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Okay so he may be “non-committal” in a loose sense of the term, but this man is one jealous motherfucker. And he gets angry. I’m talking  punching the wall, lashing out and breaking shit kind of angry. It’s mostly because of a nagging fear that not only will he lose you to someone you think is better or less monstrous than he is, but also in part due to a feeling that because of what he was forced to become, he isn’t good enough to keep you for himself. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He kisses you on your hands or neck mostly. Those are his favourite places to kiss you. He occasionally kisses you on the inside of your wrist. If you have any scars as well, he’ll kiss them. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

It depends. Sometimes he’s the perfect uncle figure, others he’s a whirlwind of rage. If you’re taking him to see some children for a prolonged amount of time, please check how he’s acting and feeling on the day so there isn’t some sort of horrific accident. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

There’s nothing special about them, he’s usually up long before you are. He doesn’t leave anything like a hot beverage behind, unless it’s a special occasion that he’s remembered- like a birthday or anniversary. 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He often tells you to go to bed before him, as he’s usually working on something, and would rather not have to worry about you being down in his factory and workshop. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

When he’s extremely angry. He gets riled up, then will start to spill facts and secrets while hardly even realising it. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has a very short fuse and a violent temper, to say the least. There’s a reason the man swears so much. Though he will often apologise if he’s scared you after an outburst. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers the basic things at the very least- Your name, your habits on eating and drinking, what you do to amuse yourself. He’s quite observant, actually. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

He made you a small music box once. The past part of his day, or his entire week, was seeing your smile as you opened it and listened to it for the first time. It was the widest he’d ever seen you smile, and he loved the feeling it gave him. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Very. One particular other Lord- “Lady Super-Sized Bitch,” as Heisenberg has dubbed her- is very interested in your presence, and Heisenberg has made it very much his business to keep you practically under lock and key to keep you safe. And when Ethan Winters comes around? Ooh, boy. You ain’t leaving his sight. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

He does try- through making trinkets and gadgets to both help you and show his affection. Sometimes it may not always seem that way though, with his outbursts and his tantrums. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

He smokes. You tried to get him to quit once, then stopped when you realised it made him more irritable. 

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not that concerned. If he’s still kicking... Well that’s all that matters to him. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He’d feel that something’s wrong, something’s not right- a cog missing from a machine, in a sense. And he hates that feeling. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

This man would die for some ice-cream. You bring him a tub of the stuff- BAM, instant good mood for the next like two days. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

This man is not fussy, in the slightest. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

He basically doesn’t, he gets so little it’s a wonder he can actually function normally. 

[lifenconcepts]

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU IN THE MOST GENUINE YET NON-ATTRACTED WAY POSSIBLE, LIKE MY HEART IS SCREAMING MIXED EMOTIONS OF BOTH WSNTING TO BITE YOU FROM HOW MUCH YOURE SHOWERING ME WITH ATTENTION BUT ALSO HUG YOU UNTIL YOUR LUNGS COLLAPSE OH MY GOHSHSHHS

YES THAT WOULD SUFFICE!! I’D CRY /POS

I genuinely can not recall the dreams anymore, yet I know that I just went into another world, like with many of my other dreams. Just a ton of interesting things among my own will that’s tainted with the dream’s persona, usually always some form of inhabited wildlife like a park, field, city, etc. always got this liminal vibe to them but instill comfort, and I crave it constantly, so am so happy to dream when I do. THANK YOY SO MUCH FOR THE ATTENTION AND QUESTIONS AND GENUINE INTEREST OH MY GOSHHH well, for the other question, I don’t usually dream of any sounds.. I assume there are some but they’re never of any attention, because I wouldn’t say there’s silence but there isn’t any noise. I just am, existing. Same with the colours, I just look at things and it’s totally different to how I perceive conscious reality, and I get that it’s because some processes turn off when you asleep but it’s fascinating how I can’t exactly admit if I see them or not, the only proof I can recall is the dull and dusky green of trees behind a mist, the vibrate brown of my dad’s hair, gray of aome cement, and murky blue of a waterfall. I am trying to recall now and do think that there definetely are colours, I just always forget them immediately after waking up. The primary colour pallete is deep blues/greens/browns/grays and ALL my dreams take place at night. Also, they seemingly are always in the middle of something, so not some specific destination (a path, I constantly dream of those - maybe in a field or by some animals or at a farm or in a forest or by some train tracks or by a race track or anywhere) and usually have at least some aspect of nature in them unless I dream about being back at school (which is strangely often enough to be it’s own category) but it’s like an entirely different thing, as if it were my school but an alternative universe of it, where I finally am capable of living out some of the things I wanted back then like actually spending time with my friends. There’s probably some things I’m forgetting to recall but that’s sort of it. What’s most fascinating is that I never have a concrete self in them, well, I do, but it fluctuates with EVERY dream - in some I’m younger or older, in some I’m a female or male, in some I’m more of a concept than human, in some I feel animalistic, sometimes I’m even what I believe to be my future self!, and in most, I just am a consciousness like irl, existing but not really having an ‘I am so and so’ that comes subconsciously. Also interesting how all my dreams have plots/stories and make me feel like im actually in a movie or something, and I just form into it with an inherent knowledge of what I should know, like, just whatever is neccesary to be aware of what to do next/why I’m here/what’s going on/what I should do. Also often cycling with my dad but that’s cuz I do it alot irl.

also I’m soosososososoosoosososoososoosososososoossosoosososoosos SO happy you liked my quizzes, if you just tell me what sort you want, I can give you more! And yeah, periods must be horrible, but soon enough that’ll pass too. AND YOIRE SERIOUSLY THE BEST!! I ain’t being overdramatise one bit! You’re incredible! Divine!! Ya mean the world to me!!!

aaaaaah would give you the entire planet !!

ALSO FEEL FREE TO ASK ME ANYTHING, REALLY, I’LL ANSWER IT EAGERLY!!!

*bonk*

HHEEJJEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHHDJJXJRHHEHSHHDD DKXJSBJD KENLXBKDBKWLJZOBDKBEKSKBZKBDKR E HEELLLLOOOOOO!!!!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part One

Prologue | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: Oh hey there! Welcome to Dany Has Been Googling Art Stuff For Like Two Months The Series. Warnings: Cursing (meant to mention that before WHOOPSADOODLE sorry) Summary: You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“The Raft of the Medusa, huh?”

You didn‘t bother to look away from your laptop where you were stationed at your lectern.

“Géricault did good work,” You answered as you finished answering the email that you were working on. You knew that this couldn’t be a terribly timely or pressing matter, because the FBI agent that had shown up had bothered to sit through the second half of your lecture that morning. 

“How long have you guys been up to romanticism?” He asked.

“Oh, just this week. Géricault’s got a good range...Landscapes, horses, portraits… horses... current events… horses…”

“Lots of horses.”

“Yeah, he was kind of a horse girl.” 

You finally sent the email off and turned to look at Agent Marcus Pike. The man was, mercifully, still looking at the recreation of the Géricault painting. 

“This one of your old ones?” He asked. You laughed a little, leaning against the lectern. 

“No. I’ve got a friend in Atlanta that specializes in recreations of Delacroix and Géricault.” 

“He’s talented. I’ve seen the original, this is… Incredible.” 

“Mm, I know. The corpses almost look happy in this version.”

Pike’s brow rose and he gave you a look out of the corner of his eye.

“So?” You asked, “How can I aid the bureau today, Agent Pike?” 

He gave a small smile, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he turned to face you more fully.

“I’m actually not here on bureau business,” he told you, peering at you nervously. Your brows rose. You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“You’ve got my attention,” You reassured him. 

--

You were trying so hard not to laugh, if not for the earnest look on Pike’s face. You watched him as you ran your finger along the handle of your coffee mug. The two of you had taken up residence at your favorite coffee shop and bakery, There Ain’t Muffin To It. It was a little out of the way of the college’s campus, but you preferred that - you hardly ever ran into your students that way.

Pike had insisted on paying for your coffee, and then he’d explained his… Situation. 

His fucking hilarious situation that you were really, really trying not to laugh at. 

“So…Just-- To make sure I’m on the level here,” You said, “Your sister Marnie is getting married in two weeks, and she was probably going to set you up with some cute hometown girl, and instead…” You had to pause, biting your lip to tamp down a laugh before going on, “Instead, you told her that you’re bringing… Me.” 

“That is the long and short of it.”

“And can I ask what possessed you to blurt out the name of an ex-fencer-turned-art-professor?” 

“I panicked and I was looking at the Coleman file.”

“Ah,” You nodded. You’d assisted Pike’s team on that case. A man named Augustus Coleman had recently come forward, claiming to have found Oudry’s White Duck. The work had, in fact, been a fake (though it was a very, very convincing one). You’d spent time with Agent Pike, looking over the painting itself and helping his team track down Coleman’s forger. It had been a lot of long nights, a lot of hard work, but Pike had given you implicit trust, and you’d gotten the job done. 

And now, apparently, he was trusting you with this, too. 

“I don’t… Lie well,” Marcus added, and you couldn’t help but laugh then. 

“I can see that.”

Marcus smiled, “I know this is an inconvenience. I wouldn’t ask you to fly down for the week I’m gonna be there--”

“But you’d want to?” 

Marcus winced, “My sister’s already passed your name on to my mom and I’m getting questions. You could just come in for the weekend. I’d pay for your airfare,” He tacked on. 

“Wow, you are desperate.” 

“What you said, about my sister setting me up with some-- hometown girl? It’s accurate, I’m pretty sure I know exactly who she would’ve tried to set me up with.”

“Bad?”

“No, she’s nice, but we don’t suit and Marnie hasn’t quite gotten that message.” 

Your brow furrowed, considered something. 

“Tell me something,” You leaned forward on your forearms, watching Marcus.

“Sure.”

“You could've found someone else to bring along, asked them to use my name and fake it to your family for two days. You’re actually asking me instead. Why?” 

Marcus’ eyes searched your face.

“Couple of reasons. Remember a minute ago when I said I was bad about lying?” 

You chuckled, “Uh-huh. The other reason?” 

“I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.”

“And someone that can lie?” 

“Exactly. See what you just said, about asking someone else to use your name? Didn’t even occur to me.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering Pike. The week that he’d named for the wedding was spring break-- you didn’t have any plans set in stone, just papers to grade. 

“...Can I think about it?” You asked. Marcus’ smile brightened at that. 

“Of course,” He nodded, “I appreciate it.” 

You believed that-- the man couldn’t lie for shit. 

-- 

That evening found you in your apartment, grading quizzes for your Intro to Greek and Roman Art course. Most of the students had a good handle on the subject, so the grading and corrections didn’t take you long. Once you’d finished, you poured yourself a glass of wine and settled down on your couch to find something to watch for the evening. 

Once you’d chosen a show, though, you really couldn’t focus on it. You had, after all, told Marcus that you’d consider his proposal. You were...Fond of Agent Pike. The agents that you’d worked with prior to his transfer to the D.C. office had all treated you with varying degrees of contempt when asking for your help on a given case; they’d kept your interactions to the barest of bare minimums, held you at arm’s length in regards to the cases that you were being asked to assist on, and hardly ever updated you on case outcomes - not that they were required to do so, but you had often wondered. Marcus Pike was so different from his predecessors. When he’d come to the D.C. office and had first needed your help on a case, he’d gone out of his way to introduce himself, the particulars of the case, and to say that, “any assistance that you could provide would be greatly appreciated.” And it hadn’t felt glib, either. You’d felt like the man actually wanted your help, wasn’t that he was just reaching out to you to cover his bases. You’d assumed that after that first case, the niceties would fall away, but Marcus had never been anything less than kind to you - even when he was stressed. He treated you with respect, understood that your time was your own, that you’d put your criminal past behind you. You were now using what you’d learned in that world to help the Bureau, and to teach.

The time you’d spent with him on the Coleman case had been the biggest eye-opener. He’d come to understand more about how you used to operate - the way you’d sold forgeries to money-grubbing, self-involved wealthy elites that cared more about owning a one-of-a-kind artwork, uncaring of where it had come from or why you had it; they hadn’t cared about the questionable and fake provenance, had only looked so close when examining the work itself. Your grandmother had been a painter, and a masterful forger - she had been the one to paint most of the forgeries that you’d helped to fence. She had taught you her tricks, connected you with the network that she operated within - she had gotten you arrested, and had been furious when you hadn’t taken the fall for her. You and Marcus had spent a lot of time together during the Coleman case - mostly working, but you’d had some downtime. There were times when he insisted that you sat down and ate, else the food would get cold. Others, when he had a question, he’d come to your office at the college, but he’d bring coffee with him, or some kind of snack - a little way of showing thanks before he even asked his question, even if you didn’t have an answer for him. Marcus was a good man. It was no wonder he needed help lying, especially to his family. Something he’d said to you that afternoon had stuck with you, though, something that was floating above the rest: “I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.” Marcus Pike trusted you. He was comfortable with you having his back - he was comfortable with you being around his family for a week. 

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts to find Marcus’. You hit the ‘call’ button before raising it to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” He asked, and you smiled at the anticipatory tone. “Think they’ve still got any seats left on your flight?” You asked. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​​ ; @artsymaddie​​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​​ ; @lunaserenade​​ ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne​​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb​

[echoalyssa]

Hey can you write asher adams x reader imagine where she is his best friend but also has feelings for him and she saw Olivia cheating on asher with spencer but she doesn't know how to tell asher and she avoids him and when Asher confronts her she tells everything..

Meant To Be | Asher Adams

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! I’m sorry it took so long! 

Asher Adams is your best friend, but only your best friend despite the feelings you harbor for him. And the issue is that he has a girlfriend, one that he loves.  So that’s the issue, well one of the issues.

All you had been doing was walking to class, you’d decided to take the long way to your physics class, through and down some hallways that were basically abandoned. 

For a school as large as Beverly, it was quite a walk, you weren’t even sure what these classrooms lining the hallways were for.

You turn a corner, your head bobbing to a machine gun Kelly song from his new album that was playing through your AirPods. 

Instead of an empty hallway there’s two figures present in this one.

The male is pressing the female against a door to a classroom. Their lips are locked and it’s passionate, you can see the tongue, the body movements, the way she pulls him closer by his shirt.

You try to keep walking, to keep your head down but something in you urges you to look up, and so you do and freeze. It’s Spencer and Olivia, so deep in each other that they don’t immediately notice you standing there. You can't avert your eyes even if you wanted to. 

Olivias eyes pop open when Spencers lips move to her neck and she sees you, gaping from down the hallway, only a few paces away.

Her eyes go wide and her hands go to push him away. “Spencer stop!”

He pulls back from her immediately and retracts his hand from under her shirt. His eyes search her face hurriedly and then he follows her gaze to where you're standing. He releases her from his grasp and Olivia shoots forward, going to grab your hand. 

“It’s not what it looks like Y/N, I promise!”

You scoff, “It looks like you're cheating on my best friend!”

“No no it ain’t like that. Liv didn't mean no harm, this was all me a’ight?” Spencer says and rubs the back of his neck.

“No no, it wasn’t Spencers fault, it’s mine. I... I cheated on Asher.”

“Spencer, you’re on a break with Layla! That doesn’t mean you can do this! And Olivia, you looked like a very active participant!”

Olivias bottom lip quivers, “I n-never meant to hurt Asher, I love him! Please don’t tell him.”

You didn't think cheating on him would hurt him!?”

“I-I, my heart said-”

“Asher doesn’t deserve this!” You interrupt. “You claim to not want to hurt him but you’re his girlfriend. And you are his best friend Spencer! And on top of it all you want me to hide it from him!? If your heart said Spencer, you should have ended things with Asher first!”

Olivia crumples to the floor, and Spencer rushes to her side to hold her. 

“I’m not hiding this from him, so either you tell him, or I do! And don’t you even think about offering to do it Spencer, this is Olivia’s story to tell!”

“I c-can’t,” she cries from between her hands that are covering her face. You glare at her and Spencer and then spin around on your heel.

~~~

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately Asher is in your next class. He’s already there and when you spot him you freeze. Why would anyone cheat on him?

He waves at you and when you finally unfreeze and have to walk past him he sticks his fist out for a bump.

You bump it, attempting to plaster a fake smile on so that he doesn’t see right through you as he normally does. Though you didn't want to keep him in the dark for longer than you had to. Now was definitely not the time to tell him. 

His hand shoots out and because he's sitting down he can’t reach your shoulder so his hand lands on your hip. You stop immediately, sparks flying from where his hand connects with your person.

“H-hi Ash.” You manage to choke out eventually.

“Hey Y/N, you okay? You look kinda pale.”

You fiddle with your hoodie string, “Um...yup just worried about a pop quiz.”

His head drops back, exposing his neck and you try your hardest to avoid staring at his Adams apple and the veins in his throat.

“We never have pop quizzes in this class!” He says with a chuckle, “But you know we’d cheat if there was one.”

You smile knowing that his statement is true and finally you tear your gaze from him so that you can take your seat.

The teacher is droning on when a tiny piece of paper lands on your desk. You look up, seeing Asher turn back around in his seat and you unfold the note.

In Asher’s signature handwriting, the note reads, My house after school?

It should be normal, but your stomach flutters with the anticipation of being in his house with him alone.

He turns to look at you for your answer and you nod at him with a smile. Asher grins. 

~~~

The final school bell rings and you immediately rush to the parking lot, specifically Asher’s car. He normally gave you a ride to school and then you’d sit and watch his football practice and do your homework before he’d drop you off at your house. 

Football practice had been canceled today so the coaches could have a coach only meeting.

He isn't there yet so you lean against the passenger side door until he appears.

“Y/N!” he calls you in a sing song voice and unlocks the door for you. 

You hop in, snagging the aux cord and he lets you, just like always. 

“Olivia hasn’t been responding.” He murmurs, because he’s comfortable letting you in on the details of his relationship, just before the music starts and you're hit with a flash of guilt. 

You would tell him, you would, just not while he was driving. 

His house isn't too terribly far from school, only a ten minute drive or so and before you know it you're hopping out of his car and racing him to the front door.

Asher wins of course, but it was always fun to try. 

“My room?” he asks.

You nod, trying to hide the excited smile that is trying to take residence upon your face.

He plops onto his bed and motions for you to come out on it too.

Has Olivia ever been with him in this bed? Of course she had.

“Ash, I need to tell you something.”

“Yessssss..?”

When you don’t respond he sits forward and takes you with his pencil so you screech. And then again for good measure. 

“It’s... about you and Olivia.”

“And..?” he prompts.

And because you can’t hide anything from him the words rush out. “I was taking the long way to class, you know how I do that sometimes? I was just walking along, lost in thought and minding my own business. And then I saw these two people making out. And I mean heavy, like hands under clothing, tongues down each others throats, making out. I didn't realize I knew them until I got closer and then I couldn’t believe who or what I was seeing but... it was Spencer and Olivia.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from rambling on, one of your nervous habits, your eyes well with tears because of the pain you must be causing him. “I’m so sorry Asher. I told her to tell you but she refused and I couldn’t tell you any sooner than now and...”

He sits forward, unusually silent, and then he opens his phone and taps out a message. He turns it around to show you. It’s a message to Olivia.

‘I know. It’s over.’ it reads.

And then very calmly he looks at you, leans closer, and then pulls you in.

His lips land on yours, carefully at first, testing the waters to see if you were okay with it or not. 

And once you get over the initial shock that you're kissing Asher Adams, your best friend, you respond eagerly.

You part your lips more, allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss as he sets both your mind and body alight.

His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hand is in your hair and he’s exploring your mouth eagerly.

All too soon, you have to remember to breathe which requires separating from him. 

There’s a content smile written on both your faces.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for as long as I could remember.”

You grin at him, knowing he doesn’t need an explanation from you so instead you get out of his bed and pull one of his hoodies out of his closet. You change in front of him, sliding out of your crop top and sliding his hoodie on. You ditch your sweatpants, opting to just have on the nike pros you’d been wearing underneath them.

You climb into bed again but this time under his covers. He joins you with a grin that shows you all of his emotion and pulls you into his chest, 

“You are so unbelievably hot.”

You curl into him, listening to his heartbeat. There would be time to talk about this later, to work out the fine details. But for now, the two of you both just knew that this was right and you were content with it. You had always loved one another, you just hadn’t realized that it was like this, in this way.

[cozyenigma]

A Single Word

Soulmate AU? Soulmate AU 😌

Pairing- Reader/Yancy

Word Count- 1239

Request?- Nope!

Summary- There was always a lot of build up and curiosity over what words your soulmate would say to you. You got just the one but that was all you really needed.

Tag List- @cookielover0001010 , @swag-droid

For most people, obviously their words meant a lot to them. With all the talk of soulmates and different tropes in movies and books, it was hard not to pay attention really. The first words some special person would say to you were stamped somewhere on your body. There was endless romantic potential obviously. You’d seen dozens of social media posts, often complete with professional photo shoots, of loving couples with their words front and center.

Some were funny in retrospect. Plenty held deeper meaning later on in a relationship. Even countless more were just a simple hello. Some people even had entire rambling paragraphs that’d take up huge swathes of skin. Regardless, they seemed to bond people together in some way and as a kid you couldn’t help but be excited as you waited to see what yours would be. You and your friends took endless little personality quizzes predicting what you’d get. Back then you used to write on the back of your hand with a marker, just to imagine the shape of the words.

So, when your words finally did show up, you were more than a little disappointed. Because it wasn’t words, plural. In a quick scrawl, small and unassuming on the inside of your left arm, was just one word.

Oh.

When it first showed up, you'd spent so long just looking at it. It wasn't even a hello. What were you supposed to make of it? What was the context? Was it a disappointed "oh" or a surprised one? When your friends had gone around showing off their brand new words, you stayed in your seat and held your arm close to you.

Nowadays your word didn't bother you as much. When someone's words came up in conversation you didn't mention yours. Some of the anxiety was still there but you figured it could've been worse. You could find plenty of examples of people having swear words somewhere obvious on their body. Most days you didn't think of your word at all.

Like almost every other case though, the day when it did was one you'd remember.

You sighed, happy for the cup of hot chocolate in your hands. It was just warm enough you wouldn't freeze out here during a short walk but not warm enough that you could skip the winter wear. Hot cup between your hands, you decided to cut through the park on your way home. You'd seen a few people around but the park was mostly empty still. It was peaceful and quiet. Snow and slush crunched beneath your shoes as you walked.

Taking the time to enjoy the scenery, you spotted someone walking their dog coming your way. You moved to the side without much thought. As you neared, you could see it was a man with a big, happy looking dog with him. You sipped at your hot chocolate.

Just as you went to pass him though, your foot slipped against a patch of ice. One weightless instant later you were on the ground. You wince at the stinging in your hands, seeing that you'd crushed your cup as you fell. Lamenting the loss of your hot chocolate was the least of your worries though.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at the man in front of you. His coat was well and truly soaked. Hot chocolate dripped off him and his dog sniffed at the puddle around his feet. Luckily you missed the pooch completely.

His owner was less fortunate and blinked down at the mess he suddenly found himself in. You realized you should be apologizing right now. Preferably before the both of you froze out here.

"Oh my god," you were scrambling to your feet as best you could, trying not to fall again, "I'm so sorry!"

Now that you looked closer, that looked like a pricey coat. One that might need to be dry cleaned and preferably not, y'know, covered in hot chocolate.

"I can pay for that?” You offered lamely. You desperately hoped it wasn't that expensive.

The guy glanced down at himself and back at you, eyes wide. You grimaced at the wet feeling in your shoes, unsure if it was just water or more hot chocolate.

"It didn't burn you, did it?" You eyed the wet splotch on him. A shuffling at your feet drew your attention downwards and you saw his dog sniffing your shoes. "I'm glad I didn't get any on your dog at least."

Still the man just looked at you. He didn't even seem upset about the coat. In that moment, he stared at you like you'd appeared out of thin air. Like the world had stopped with you standing here in front of him. The sort of look that you weren't at all used to getting.

Then, and only then, did he speak.

"Oh."

The cup dropped from your hand. Now that you were on the other end of it, you think you might know how he felt. You thought over what you'd just said to him. There was heat rushing to your cheeks but it wasn't from the cold.

"I think I should probably apologize again," you said scratching the back of your head, "considering you uh- have all that somewhere on you?"

He huffed a laugh. This whole time he hadn't taken his eyes off you. "Better than what I gave youse. I had somethin' to go off of at least."

"Go off of?" You asked.

Nodding quickly, he unbuttoned the wet coat and yanked up the hem of his shirt. Written across the right side of his stomach was what you'd said to him in your handwriting. It took up a good chunk of real estate.

"See, I was always a dog person but figured I would actually need to have a dog at some point," he stooped down and scratched the dog between the ears. "Plus he's a good walkin buddy, so, thanks for that.”

"You got him because of your words?" As if he knew you were talking about him the dog wagged his tail, expecting pets. "What's his name?"

"Ah, well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "his friends call him Wheels."

"His friends?" You asked, giving Wheels a good scratch.

The man let out a little laugh. "Well that's how ya get the best nicknames."

He held out a hand, a dopey little grin on his face. "Name's Yancy."

You introduced yourself, returning the handshake. Yancy didn't bother buttoning his coat back up, instead taking it off and tying it around his waist. You grimaced.

"Still feel bad about the coat though."

"What, this?" He picked at the sodden fabric. "Ain't mine. Friend I borrowed it from won't miss it neither."

"If you say so," you scooped up the cup you dropped before chucking it into a nearby trash can.

"But if ya really wanna make it up to me," Yancy smirked as he pointed towards the park exit, "youse could let me buy ya a new drink sometime?"

You couldn't help it. The tension broke then and you laughed. "How's that supposed to make it up to you?"

"I've been waitin' years for this," Yancy was already walking ahead you, Wheels trotting happily by his side. His words were easy like you’d already known each other for years. Bubbly, he turned as he walked so he could face you. "I got lotsa questions, doll."

[luciferloser]

Brothers reacting to an insecure MC

Lucifer

Hearing a knock at your door, you quickly pulled your shirt down from where you were scrutinising yourself in front of your mirror. Turning around, you saw Lucifer leaning against your doorframe, with his arms folded. For a brief moment, neither of you said anything. You began to shift slightly under his intense gaze as he strolled into your room to where he was standing right in front of you. “MC, I don’t care how much you weigh, or where your weight is more prominent, you’re beautiful both inside and out.” You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he quickly pressed his index finger to your lips.

“Don’t interrupt me, I’m not finished. As I was saying, you must be beautiful both physically and personality-wise if you managed to make me fall for you.” It wasn’t often Lucifer expressed his feelings for you, which is why his confession meant that much more to you. Burying your face into his chest, you whispered softly, “thank you.”

Mammon

Mammon was lounging in the living room on his DDD when you walked in. Feeling particularly bold, because none of his brother’s were around to torment him, he pulled you onto his lap just as you went to sit down beside him. You yelped as you crash landed on him, immediately going to stand up again. “Oi oi, where are you going? You should be grateful I wanted you to sit on MY lap!” he whined, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place.

“I’m too heavy Mammon...” you murmured, gently trying to pry his arms off you.

“Huh? No you ain’t, remember I’m a demon. Besides, who told you you’re too heavy to sit on their lap? I’ll give ‘em a piece of my mind!” he muttered angrily, pushing his nose into your neck gently. “Anyways, let’s make the most of having the room to ourselves before one of my brothers comes in, you’re fine where you are.” he mumbled, his cheeks heating up; not that he would ever tell you that.

Leviathan

Sitting in Levi’s room playing a multiplayer game, both your DDD’s buzzed with a text alert. Waiting until the round was over, you unlocked your device to see it was this week’s popularity contest results. “Good afternoon everybody. We decided to mix things up this week by changing the criteria to attractiveness. In tenth place, Leviathan, ninth place, Barbatos...” Levi trailed off as he continues to read the rest of the results in his head.

“I didn’t even make the list...” You signed, locking the phone and moving to stand up.

“Hey where are you going? MC, wait! Don’t let that stupid list upset you, you should know you’re worth way more than what those stupid normies think anyways.” Levi declared, not being able to meet your eyes towards the end of his confession.

“You really think so?” you murmured, taking a seat next to him once more.

“Duh. I don’t just let anybody hang out with me. Especially in my own room.” He smiled gently, handing you your controller once more.

Satan

You and Satan were reading in his room, quietly enjoying each other’s company when you managed to spill tea down your shirt. Muttering curse words, you leapt to your feet.

“Not to sound like a pervert, but you should take your shirt off before you burn yourself.” Satan suggested, moving to help you take it off.

Hugging yourself, you began to back away as Satan reached out to you. “No it’s okay, I’ll go and get changed in my room.” You whispered, turning to leave.

Eyes lighting up in understanding, Satan headed to his closet, returning with one of his sweaters. “I apologise if I made you uncomfortable, MC. However, if it’s any help to you, I think you look absolutely stunning all the time. I’ll let you get changed.” His eyes crinkled as rubbed your arm gently. Feeling your cheeks heat up as he left, you mumbled “damnit Satan.”

Asmodeus

Sighing to yourself, you knocked on Asmo’s door, shuffling from foot to foot. Tilting his head, Asmo took in the sight of you in front of his door. “MC, my dear, you know you don’t have to knock! You are always welcome.” he reassured softly; sensing something was bugging you. “Come in, I was just about to try out some new skin care products!”

“Actually, that’s what I came here for. I just haven’t been feeling that great about my skin lately and-” you began to ramble as Asmo pulled you to him.

“Oh sweetie, why didn’t you say so sooner! I have just the products for you! You’ll be feeling like the god/goddess you are in no time!” Asmo exclaimed, taking your face in his palms tenderly. “I know I talk about being beautiful a lot all the time but when I say you are one of the most stunning people I have ever met, I truly do mean it.”

Beelzebub

Beel was busy raiding the kitchen as you sat on the counter with your DDD in hand. “Hey MC do you want some of this scream cheese chowder?”

“Ah, no thank you Beel. Keep it for yourself.” you uttered, briefly glancing up at him.

“Is it poisonous? I could’ve sworn this one wasn’t, what about this seaweed soup? This one’s delicious! You won’t be disappointed.” he grinned enthusiastically.

“No no, I’m okay, watching you enjoy your food is enough for me.” you said, hopping off the counter.

“But MC, you barely touched your dinner.” Beel frowned, stepping in front of the doorway to stop you leaving the kitchen. “Maybe I’m reading this all wrong and you just don’t have much of an appetite today, but I think you look great as you are.” He confessed, glancing down at you with what can only be described as pure adoration.

Throwing yourself at the soft redhead, you whispered into his chest “Thank you Beel, I really needed to hear that.”

Belphegor

You woke up to find yourself curled up with Belphie in his bed. Glancing down, you noticed that your shirt had risen up in your sleep. In your haste to pull it back down, you threw Belphie’s arm off from where it had rested across your waist. Sitting up in indignation, Belphie asked as he yawned, “What’s up with you?”

Seeing as you were both awake, there was no point in going back to sleep; it was already gone 10am anyways. Peeling back the covers, you also sat up. “Nothing, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Hm, well anyways, your shirt rode up last night, I thought you looked quite cute.” he stayed nonchalantly.

“You noticed, and thought it was cute?” you quizzed, genuine shock flitting across your face.

“Well why wouldn’t I? To me you’ll always be cute, knowing how different we are in strength. I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you feel embarrassed about your tummy; you have no reason to. Just means there’s more of you to cuddle.” Belphie announced, curling back up with his pillow. “Now come back to bed for a bit, I’m still tired.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

I think i’ll make a second part for this, with the undateables responses. Feel free to send in requests or just to chat to me!

[tales-unique]

MEMORIES OF THE WEST  III

Needless to say, Dutch is Interested. After the initial shock and suspicion subsides he hounds you with questions, all while marching you over to his tent, motioning two men over with a swift motion. Arthur and Hosea, the same men he had been talking with earlier on. You stand awkwardly between the three, fidgety under their gaze. Hosea seems the most agreeable of them while Arthur is wary of you, if first introductions are to go by, but Dutch doesn't waste another minute with the pleasantries. “Miss DuBois, if you please.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat, eyes flicking between them. You suddenly feel small , but you try to hide it as best you can. “His name is Jebediah Kramer. He’s a gambling man from Saint Denis who, I happen to know, has just come into a large sum of money.” “Just how much money are we talkin’ here? And how do you know about it?” Arthur speaks up, eyeing you suspiciously. He looks intimidating, all broad shoulders and piercing eyes. If it were under different circumstances you might have enjoyed the sight. You give him a tight-lipped smile instead. ”At least a couple thousand, and I know ‘cause the no good, pompous, cheating son-of-a-bitch took it from my brother in a rigged poker game!” The three fall silent. Dutch has his hands on his hips. Hosea crosses his arms with a slow nod. Arthur just watches you with suspicious eyes. “So that’s why you’re more than happy to let us rob him blind!” Arthur breaks the silence, throwing his hands up in the air. “You just need someone to do your dirty work, huh?” He turns to Dutch, a scowl on his face. “I bet it aint even that much money, it’s not worth the risk Dutch! Not with all the heat we already have!” “Easy, Arthur,” Dutch waves his hand dismissively, “any lead is welcome, you know that—” You’re surprised by his support, but none-the-less pleased. “—But I admit, I am curious why you would let us ride away with your brothers wrongfully taken money. Care to enlighten us further?” Now, not so much. “Well, the money wasn’t my brothers to gamble with,” you sigh, fidgeting, “he took it on loan, and was supposed to pay it back, but obviously he couldn't with it all gone. Jebediah, ever the kindhearted rich man,” you sneer, “offered to pay off the debt and give a little more besides for a trade,” your voice tapers off into a murmur at the end, your teeth nipping the inside of your cheek, anger bubbling in your stomach. “Well?” Dutch probes, impatient, “what trade ?” “For my hand in marriage!” You hiss low, stomping on the mound of dirt you hadn’t realized you were shoveling with your foot. “And the damned idiot said yes ! Like I’m some pet o-or a piece of furniture that don’t have feelings or a mind of her own!” Flustered, you take in a deep breath in order to try and calm yourself, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. “So yes , it’s a little bit of dirty work on my behalf, but the way I see it you’re the ones who get the better end of the deal. And you can keep anything else you find too, I don’t care. It ain’t mine after all,” you shrug, cold and distant. It’s a little sobering for the men before you but you don’t care. Jebediah is a rich man who doesn’t give two hoots about anyone or anything but himself; he deserves far worse than this, but at least your brother will have learned a harsh lesson and you won’t have to marry that fool Kramer. He’ll be too busy nursing his ruined ego to focus on you, after all. You hope. “Well,” Dutch drawls, breaking the stalemate, “ain’t that something. What do you say, gentlemen?” He asks Hosea and Arthur, both of whom have stayed quiet after your little outburst. “I doubt Miss DuBois would be so, well, so animated over nothing,” Hosea states, “I say we take a look into this Mr Kramer.” He offers you a small smile and a dip of his head, which you return. “And you, Arthur?” Arthur grumbles, shuffling from one foot to another before he shakes his head. He takes out a cigarette, holding it between his lips before looking you dead in the eyes. “Better not be setting us up like fools, Miss,” he growls, striking a match. Through the smoke he looks like one of those mountain men you’ve read about in your books, all rugged and rough. Now you can see why they sell so well among the ladies in the gentry. Dutch nods, a hand coming to your shoulder in a reassuring pat. “Well then Miss DuBois, I think the matter is settled! Now, all we need is a plan .” Reconnaissance — the first phase of Dutch’s plan. A trip to Saint Denis was in order, he explained, to return the stolen bride-to-be and in the process integrate themselves into the business of Jebediah Kramer directly. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, you told yourself, but humored Dutch with a smile and a nod anyway. “We should have taken the train! ” You huff, shifting in the saddle to try and get the blood flowing to your legs. You’ve been riding for a while now and while you’re grateful not to be walking all the way to Saint Denis, you would have preferred your own mount instead of sharing one. Especially with a certain ill-tempered cowboy. “Quit your whining, we’ll make camp as soon as we get to open ground,” Arthur grumbles, growling in frustration when he, too, has to readjust to get comfortable. The large stallion he rides, a hulking Ardennes, snorts in complaint at the unruly riders. You shush him gently, smoothing your fingers out along his neck. “Only if you mean it this time,” you counter sourly. Arthur just chuckles, recalling how you fell for the lie twice before you called his bluff. He does mean it this time though and it’s not long before Arthur picks out a suitable spot to set up camp. It’s just enough for two weary travelers on the road. Two small tents, two bedrolls, and a small fire. You sip at a strange concoction that Hosea gave you, made out of American Ginseng, which he said would help boost you up a bit after your ordeal. It tastes funny, but you do feel better. Arthur is smoking, eyes on the rabbit that he’s cooking. You’re curious of him, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of man that enjoys being quizzed and questioned. You decide to do it anyway. “So...” You start, trying to make small talk to fill the deafening silence. Arthur flicks his gaze briefly to you, but it’s soon back on the rabbit. “So?” He repeats when you remain quiet, raising an eyebrow. “So, what’s it like being an outlaw ?” Not the most original question in the world and you know it. You cringe inside and you can see the tension in Arthur's expression. He’s probably been asked that before, plenty of times, by all sorts of people and you feel stupid. He scoffs and shakes his head, distracting himself with the now cooked rabbit. You awkwardly decline his offer for some. You’re too busy hoping a hole would open up and swallow you whole “Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly, “that was, God, that was awful!” Arthur snickers, making you smile. “Well I wasn’t gonna say anything, but now that you mention it,” he teases, the awkward tension leaving your shoulders as you laugh. It didn’t sit right with him, how uptight you were. Especially since he knew it was because of how standoffish he’d been with you in camp. The stress of everything with the law, that mess in Blackwater, and Dutch acting strange was weighing heavily on him but that didn’t give him the right to be mean to you. He could have been civil about it. Hosea always taught him to be, even when disagreeing, not that Dutch ever minded him being more of a brute. And a brute he had been. Until he saw that look in your eye, that is. Like a puppy who was kicked for being a little too excited, a little too much for those around it. With a sigh, he gives you the once over before sitting up straighter. The cooked rabbit meat is stowed away for later, when you’re both on the move again. “You really wanna know what it’s like to be an outlaw?” He asks and you visibly perk up, surprised that he’s answering your question. “Are you really gonna tell me?” You counter, narrowing your eyes. You’re suspicious, but the smile creeping onto your lips betrays your excitement. Arthur finds he quite likes this side to you; maybe you are more suited for this life than he gave you credit for. “Well, it ain’t fun,” he breaths, “I mean, you’re practically living it already. You’ve been kidnapped, starved, hustled into some fools errand by a gang of misfits, and now you’re planning to rob some rich fool blind and get out alive to spend the money!" He chuckles. “All we gotta do is get you in a gun fight and girl you’ll be the real deal,” he adds, smirking. You’re quiet for a moment, studying him, before you break down into laughter as Arthur watches you in amusement, illuminated by the firelight. “You really think so?” You laugh, shaking your head, “I don’t even know how to use a gun!” “Then I’ll teach you,” Arthur says after a moment of contemplation, “you’ll need it if you’re gonna run with us.” The resoluteness of his tone stifles your laughter and you once again look at him with those wide eyes, barely contained excitement brimming within. “You will?” Suspicion radiates from you again but he waves it off dismissively. “Yeah, you’ll need to know just in case things go wrong,” he explains, “but c’mon now, it’s getting late. We should get some sleep while we can.” Stifling a yawn, you nod. Arthur will have you up with the dawn chorus so that you can make good time so you need all the rest you can get. Burrowing down into the blanket on your bedroll you sigh contently, peeking up at the stars as the fire becomes glowing embers. The stillness of the night surrounds you, coaxing you into a restful sleep as twinklings lights above fade to black. Arthur listens as your breathing evens out, steady and constant in your slumber. He stares up at the stars, ruminating on just how it came to be that you were there, with him, about to pull off something daring and downright foolish with the possibility of no pay off. Before he left with you Hosea had told him to have faith in you and your knowledge, but could he really be so quick to trust? Turning onto his side, Arthur watches you with interest. You’re curled up like one of those pretty cats in a basket, soft fur and sweet purrs. Long lashes kissing the tops of rosy cheeks. You’re an honest girl, he’s sure, but the more he watches your peaceful, sleeping face, the more he’s concerned that you’re in over your head, and that just doesn’t sit right with him.

[fourmarkdove]

South-Bound Polecat

Title: South-Bound Polecat

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Sy is furious you’re not taking better care of yourself.

Paring: Syverson x reader

Warnings: Disordered eating

A/N: Based off of this post. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading!

Setting down your oversized bag on the bench near the door, you then leaned over to tug off your heels. You moaned out loud and stretched your toes, unbuttoning your suit jacket. Sy came around the corner and leaned against the double door frame leading out to the hall. Arms folded across his chest, he tilted his wrist and checked the time.

“It’s 9:30,” he complained, watching you shrug out of your jacket. “You said you’d be home three hours ago.”

“I know my love. I’m so sorry.” You came to him and lifted up onto your toes to gently kiss his bottom lip. “Time just got away from me. Good news is that I got all of the quizzes graded and entered into the system.”

“You’re runnin’ yourself ragged, babe.”

“I’ll be fine, darling. I just need a hot bath and then to fall into bed.”

“I grilled steaks for us tonight,” he called up the stairs after you, “three and a half hours ago.”

Ever the keen observer, he caught the scent of - what was that? Ranch dressing? Instead of heading back to the couch, he thumbed open your bag to find the offending smell.

Since he was back from deployment and had more free time than ever, he took it upon himself to look after you like he always said he wanted to. And like you apparently needed. He’d taken to waking on schedule, hours well ahead of you, and he’d go for a run, have a shower, and sip coffee while making your breakfast - usually a smoothie because you flat out told him your “nervous stomach” couldn’t handle eating real breakfast with him.

Every morning he’d pack a lunch for you too. He thought of it as an extra little reminder during the day of how he cared for you by taking the time to slice up thin baby carrot sticks or apple slices earlier that morning.

He sighed a gruff sound, peeling sticky note reminders off of the cracked open container. Ranch dressing had spilled out and leaked all over inside your bag. He popped open the container heading out to the kitchen, discovering you’d not even touched any of the chicken tenders he’d made. That made three times this week that you hadn’t eaten lunch.

When he was all done cleaning up, he sat on the couch and flicked through channels mindlessly. It wasn’t long before he heard the familiar padding of feet coming downstairs and wandering over to the fridge to scrounge for food before bed.

“Babe?” you called, pouring yourself some water. “Any more of that steak? Oh nevermind I found it.”

Coming to the couch in his t-shirt and freshly washed hair, you slide some of the thinly sliced meat into your mouth and cooed, tasting the salty goodness of the rub he’d seared it with. You fold your legs under you as you come to sit next to him, mesmerized by the football game on the screen.

He sat a few long minutes, arm thrown over the back of the couch, and watched you devour the sweet potato fries, steak, and grilled pineapple. Sliding your plate onto the coffee table, you sighed and laid down, using his muscular thigh as a pillow.

Two minutes into the game and you were rolling over onto your side, drawing your knees up and whining about a stomach ache.

“Course it hurts, bug. You just inhaled dinner. You know you’d not come home every night ready to eat the north end of a south-bound polecat if you’d just dig in to the lunches I been makin’ ya.”

You sighed and rubbed your cheek against his leg. “I know. I just get busy…”

“Ain’t nothin’ I ever heard about in your particular line of work that means you can’t stop for 10 minutes to get chow.”

Sitting up, you didn’t have much fight in you between the stomach ache and exhaustion, but still you want him to understand. “Lunch is the only time I can get stuff done. They’ve taken away my planning period. I have to get papers graded. I’ll try to be better about eating but…”

“You an’ I both know ‘try’ is about as worthless as tits on a bull,” he huffed, flexing his fingers over the couch armrest.

Stunned, you gave him a wide eyed look and pulled the damp hair from your face. “Sy, are you angry at me?”

“Geez, woman!” Yes, he was in fact angry. “All I’m asking is for you to look after yourself better. I’m not askin’ for the gotdamn moon!”

He stood up abruptly and paused halfway out of the room. Even in the dim light you could see the muscles across his back were tense and twitching. His fists were balled up and his whole body was rigid.

Your Sy had a temper and there were times when that rage benefitted both him and the men and women who served under his command. His unit needed the discipline he provided because every last one of them knew the training built trust that kept them alive even in the most desperate situations. Most of the time his temperament was fairly sanguine as a natural leader and his charisma was enough to get the job done. If pressed, however, he could and did square up with any soldier who dared to step over the line and disrespect him, the position he held, or ignore instructions given. Even the charisma was calculated. There was never a moment of downtime even if he appeared relaxed.

That’s what frustrated him so damn much dealing with you. He planned to look after you, calculated to make sure you were prepared for long days you faced on your own front line of sorts. He wanted you to feel that same kind of “until the end of the line” support that his unit felt when they trained, when they fought, and when they had down time. Together.

That was the thing - he couldn’t do any of that from home while you went to a school campus. You had no down time together other than collapsing in his arms always for sleep. And he sure as hell couldn’t engage in any kind of training like he was used to. The one and only time he barked at you was earlier on in your relationship, over something altogether innocuous, like how the ladder wasn’t set properly when you climbed up to wash windows. He was correct and it was unsafe but the delivery sent ice through your veins. When you climbed down and approached him, shuddering with fear and bottom lip quivering, his heart broke in two.

He spent the rest of that night cuddling you up in his bear arms, nuzzling your neck and barely speaking above a whisper. He swore he’d never raise his voice to you like that ever again.

When things came across like this not eating lunch thing, it was difficult for him. What was that bullshit book you made mention of about love languages? His was clearly acts of service; why weren’t you seeing that?

I make you lunches because I want to provide for you. I want you to feel supported and loved even when I can’t physically be with you.

That’s what he wanted to say; what he meant to say every time he closed the lid on those containers and slipped them into your bag as you ran out the door and forgot your smoothie.

For you not to even have opened them? Whether you meant to or not, he felt flat out rejected. Did you really not want him? He tried so hard in his own way to tell you how desperately he loved you. But it felt like you couldn’t be bothered enough to care, hence ranch dressing spilled in your bag.

“I’m goin’ to bed,” he sighed. “Night, bug.”

Ten minutes later, he heard the bathroom sink and then the sheets being lifted as you silently slid in on your side of the bed. He faced away, feeling like sinking down into himself and closed his eyes.

Twenty minutes later, he heard a faint whimper as you curled up smaller in your sleep and began to rock yourself. Sitting up, he glanced over his shoulder and sighed. Your belly must have still ached.

Rolling over, he pulled you close and turned your body over so he could rub his large hand over your stomach soothingly.

He felt your little gasp and fingers curl against his chest when you woke with a start. “Mm I… bad dream…” you mumbled. He wrapped a steady arm behind your back so you could use his bicep as a pillow while he rubbed your midriff.

“I know, babe. Shh you’re safe…” he whispered, pressing his cheek to your forehead.

“Please don’t be mad,” you sniffled barely awake, pressing your nose into his neck. “I love you.”

Even barely awake, you said it so easily. It felt like a miracle every time the words fell over your beautiful lips. He tucked a hand behind your head and kissed your forehead gently. “I love you, bug.”

You cooed and settled down, drifting fast now that you were tucked into him.

“Can I take you out for lunch tomorrow?”

“Mm… sounds nice…” you sighed one last time before passing out completely.

He could not have been more awake, however.

His cheeks burned and something tightened in his throat - what was that - choked up like tears? Even if you didn’t remember it, he’d managed to say it out loud.

I love you, bug.

But you remembered.

[rebel-without-cause-x]

Leave Him

Jax Teller x Reader

I just can’t help myself, I said I was gonna take a break from writing for a couple of days then got the idea for this 😂😂😂 anyways enjoy.

“Sorry lass this is a private bar, I’m gonna have to get you to leave” A Scottish voice boomed through the empty club, a voice that you missed.

A small smirked played on your lips as you spun around on the chair.

“Oh I know” you winked “don’t worry”

“Fucking hell” Chibs shouted “when did you get back into town”

“Couple hours ago” you smiled as you gave him a hug. “And we are moving back to charming”

“We?” He asked raising his eyebrow.

“Yeah me and my fiancée” you smiled shoving your hand in his face.

“Does Jackie know you are engaged?” He quizzed making your sigh.

“Don’t see how it’s any of his business to be fair Telford. He chose her over me so I moved on” you nodded. “I didn’t come back for Jax Teller, I came back because this is my home”

“Okay okay” he chuckled holding his hands up in defensive. “Now do we get to meet the guy that plans on marrying you”

“What you gonna do Chibs scare him off” you laughed leaning against the bar.

“Nah more like warn him” he winked

You had been back in charming for about a month and to say the guys didn’t like your fiancée was an understatement. You saw the look in there eyes when you was together, you knew exactly what they was thinking. How did someone with your record and temper end up with someone that worked in an office.

You had also noticed the change in Luke’s behaviour, he was always staying late at work, there was tension between the two of you and he hardly touched you anymore. Yet outside of the four walls of your house he was the perfect fiancée. You knew he hated who you rolled with even before moving back home but that was becoming more apparent as you quickly slipped back into the club life.

Hearing the front door slam shut you knew he was in a mood, sighing as you finished lacing your boots up.

“Where do you think you are going?” He snapped.

“To The club” you said standing up “it’s Friday night”

“Here we go yet again spending time with them fucking biker guys” he hissed.

“Well if you was actually around more then maybe I wouldn’t spend as much time with them” you shouted standing your ground.

“You’ve changed” he laughed.

“I’ve changed” you scoffed “new flash darling this is who I am, this is who I was and this is who I will always be. Them ‘fucking biker guys’ are my family. Ever since we moved here it’s you that’s changed. It was your idea to move here”

“Because it’s your home” he glared.

“So you don’t get to make comments about my family” you snapped grabbing your keys “don’t bother waiting up”

Jax took a long drag of his smoke, leaning his head back.

“I don’t like how he treats her” he sighed.

“Nothing you can do about it brother” Tig nodded “you made you decision when you chose Tara over her”

“Yeah worst decision of my life” he huffed.

“I mean I don’t like the guy” Happy shrugged “but if he makes her happy then what can we do about it”

“Thing is I don’t think he does make her happy. Maybe he once did but I’ve seen the look in eyes when he constantly rings her when she’s here.” Jax said “and in all honestly I think he is cheating on her”

“You can’t make accusations like that” Tig said.

“I can when I’ve seen him hooking up with a bird that wasn’t Y/N in an alley” Jax sighed as he heard the roar of your engine pulling into the lot.

Slamming your car door shut you stormed over to the bar, jumping up and leaving a cross it, you snatched a bottle of JD before making your way over to where the guys sat.

“Rough day?” Jax asked

“Summing like that” you grunted bringing the bottle to your lips. “I just want to get shitfaced”

The night went on but you had mentally checked out, your heart wasn’t in partying tonight but drinking was a distraction at least. You thought you had finally got the perfect life but obviously not.

“Leave him” Jax said nudging your shoulder.

“Huh?” You mumbled as you declined Luke’s 20th call of the night.

“Come on Y/N, don’t think about telling me what you always say, that you are alright and everything is fine” Jax whispered “I can see it in your eyes you aren’t happy so leave him”

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now.

“I am not having this conversation, not with you anyway” you snapped standing up “Have you forgotten you are the one that chose her over me? Or how you broke my heart?”

“Y/N wait” Jax said placing his hand on your arm. “We both know what they say is true. He runs around, he ain't good to you and it's so hard to watch how he breaks your heart”

“Oh fuck off Teller” you said shrugging his hand off your arm.

Deep down you knew he was right, Luke wasn’t good to you and you had a feeling he was seeing other women. At the end of the day Charming was a small town. But you wasn’t going to admit that to Jax.

“You look like you are about to punch something lass, you okay?” Chibs said offering you a smoke, which you gratefully took.

“Or someone” you muttered placing the smoke between your lips. “Why can’t my life be easy Chibs”

“I’m guessing Jax said something then” he nodded.

“Yeah, he told me I should leave Luke�� you laughed “I mean who gives him the right to tell me to leave my fiancée. Whether I’m happy or not, he doesn’t get to project his feelings on to me like that, not any more”

Chibs just left you to rant, he knew if he interrupted you’d bite his head off.

“I mean it wasn’t even my idea to come back here, it was because of Luke’s work. I wish I never moved back” you huffed sitting on top of the bench as you lit another smoke.

“You still love him don’t you?” Chibs asked softly placing a hand on your back.

“Chibs I’ve told you I’ve moved on” you said not looking him in the eyes.

“Then why you getting all worked up over this?”

“Because” you paused trying to think of an excuse “I don’t fucking know Telford. Can’t I just be happy for once in my pissing life”

Without giving him a chance to respond you stormed off and headed to the one place you could be alone. The roof. Checking you phone you saw 20 missed calls from Luke alongside half a dozen texts.

Why couldn’t life just be simple for once.

Chibs had hit the nail on the head, you was getting so worked up about this because deep down you knew you still loved Jax. As much as you didn’t want to you still did.

“Thought I’d find you up here” Jax said softly as he sat next to you. “I know you don’t want to talk right now but just hear me out please”

“Fine” you mumbled looking down at your shoes.

“I just want you to be happy Y/N, that’s why I said to leave him because I can see that your heart don’t believe him when he tells you he loves you” Jax sighed. “I know it wasn't right w hen I let you down and let you go that night. But I'm not giving up on us this time”

“Jax you need to understand something, I gave up on us years ago and there’s no coming back from that” you said with tears in your eyes as you left him sat on the roof alone.

[silverlightqueen]

Tia and Tamera... and Nicole

fratboy and best friend!namjoon x reader, university!au, comedy, fluff, angst (and making out, if that counts as something idk lol) ft. twice nayeon, got7 jackson & skz hyunjin

For btswriterscollective’s 1 year anniversary contest!

Summary: y/n decides to make a big fashion change and, all of a sudden, is the object of attraction of every male within a hundred metre radius of her. Namjoon, her best friend, isn’t too impressed about it.

Rating: 15 (mature themes, explicit discussion of sex, strong language)

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: lots of sexism/misogyny, the typical she-has-a-makeover-and-suddenly-every-boy-wants-to-date-her-trope, lots of gross frat boys, strong language, explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and drug consumption, making out, Namjoon is trash and doesn’t know how to text. I think that’s it but lmk if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: hey guys ! it’s silverlightqueen back with another university au lmao i’m sorry :( thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading, you’re the best and I love youuu !! I hope you guys enjoy this bc it was really fun to write !!

silverlightqueen masterlist

I got the divider off google (it has no relevance to the story but it kinda matches the colour scheme so we move lmao) so credit to whoever made it lol

joon: u up

y/n: don’t fuckboy text me

joon: so thats a yes

y/n: what do you want ?

joon: u free tmrw

y/n: it’s Monday tomorrow

joon: what about it

y/n: I got a lecture in the morning, but I’m free after 11

joon: ill pick u up nd take u 4 food

y/n: look at you, any excuse to drop in that you can drive now

joon: do u want food yes or no

y/n: what food ?

joon: mexican indian chinese whateva u want

y/n: yeah, sounds good

joon: rnt u gonna tell me what food u want

y/n: I’ll sleep on it

y/n: anyway go to bed, idiot, why are you even awake at 2.30 on a Sunday night ?

joon: y r u

y/n: questioning my existence

y/n: duh

y/n: now tell me why you are

joon: i just left jens lol

y/n: nvm forget I asked

joon: sure u dont want the deets

y/n: positive

y/n: goodnight you demon

joon: gn angel

‘Took you long enough,’ Namjoon exclaims as I open the front door of his car and climb into the passenger seat. ‘Wait, whoa. Hold on. What is this?’ Namjoon demands as I shut the door behind me, and I quickly turn to look at him. ‘What?’ I ask worriedly, and he shakes his hand in my general direction. ‘This. Your outfit. I’m confused,’ he says, and I relax, rolling my eyes, trying to ignore the way my cheeks are heating up and hoping he doesn’t notice it. ‘Why are you confused, Namjoon?’ I ask as though I’m speaking to a child, and he laughs, starting up the car.

‘I’m confused because I’ve never seen you wear anything other than clothes that are way too big for you,’ he says, and I make an indignant noise as he speeds down the road like the devil driver he is. ‘Don’t even deny it, you know it’s true. I started to wonder if you had something you were trying to hide. A growth on your stomach. A hunchback. A pregnancy. Or worse; no boobs!’ he says, gasping dramatically, and I hit his shoulder, holding back a laugh. ‘I wasn’t hiding anything,’ I say, and he glances over at me, eyeing my chest, before his tongue darts out to wet his lip. ‘You were. I always assumed you had small tits – a B cup, max – but obviously not. I can’t believe you hid them so well. They’ve gotta be at least a D,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, not bothering to disclose that I’m actually an E. He’d probably pop a boner. ‘And your legs,’ he says, and I look down at them self-consciously. ‘What about them?’ I ask, and he blinks before looking down at my freshly shaved limbs. ‘I’ve never seen them before. They’re nice. Smooth. And curved, with some fat on them. I’m glad you don’t have stick legs,’ he jokes, and I sigh. ‘Stop body-shaming,’ I say, and he lets out a little chuckle. ‘Am I not allowed to have preferences?’ he smirks, eyes on the road as he overtakes cars left, right and centre. ‘No,’ I reply, and he bursts out laughing.

‘So what’s with the new look? What prompted this reinvention? Because, I’m either still tripping from last night, or you’re actually wearing makeup too,’ he says, and I shift embarrassedly in the seat. ‘I just felt like it was time for a change. I wanted to experiment, try something new,’ I say, and he nods, face blank. ‘Okay. Now, do you wanna tell me the real reason?’ he asks, and I laugh, annoyed that he knows me so well. ‘I was getting changed in my room-’ ‘Okay, hang on, let me picture it,’ Namjoon says, and I hit him again, ignoring his chuckles. ‘So, I was getting changed, and Nayeon barged in and had a meltdown over… my body. She said that she was really annoyed with me for hiding my body so much, because if she had my body, she’d walk around naked. Or whatever. Something like that. I’d never really… looked at my body like that, but once she said it, I realised that maybe I could start branching out, fashion-wise. So she took me shopping, and this is the trial of new outfit number one,’ I say, and he listens intently, nodding in all the right places.

‘So how have people reacted today?’ he asks, and I get a little embarrassed thinking about it. ‘Some of the girls in my class started screaming when they saw me, and Taehyung asked if I was new here, and if he could get my number. Oh, and our lecturer asked me to stay behind to ask if I was okay, because I didn’t seem to be myself today,’ I explain, and Namjoon bursts out laughing. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Not at all.’ ‘Wow. All I’ll say is to ignore Taehyung. I think all that weed has caused permanent damage to his brain,’ he says, and I can’t help but agree, wondering how that boy can even breathe right anymore. ‘Well, anyway. Why did you used to cover up so much?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Are you just gonna keep quizzing me?’ I ask, and he nods instantly, grinning. ‘I’m intrigued, y/n. You have to understand that this is a lot for me to process. My best friend has transformed into someone else since I last saw her. My mind’s going into meltdown mode,’ he says dramatically, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Drama queen.’ ‘I learn from the best. You. Now, anyway. Can you answer my question?’

‘I don’t know.’ ‘You don’t know if you can answer my question?’ ‘No, moron, I don’t know why I used to cover up so much,’ I say exasperatedly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I find that slightly hard to believe.’ ‘Fine. I wasn’t the most confident in my body. It’s hard, seeing all these super slim tiktok girls, petite and slight, and seeing them dress the way I wanted to. It’s like… I felt stupid wearing the same clothes they wear because they look so different to me. The way the media glorifies slim women… it’s hard for not-so-slim women like me. So I just hid my body in loose clothes for so long that it was what I was comfortable in,’ I explain, Namjoon still listening attentively. That’s one of the best things about him; he may be an idiot, but he always listens to what I have to say.

‘That’s… kinda sad, actually. Because – don’t get me wrong, your old look did suit you – but this new look? It’s great. You look really good, y/n, regardless of the fact that you’re not a super slim tiktok girl,’ he says matter-of-factly, and I smile shyly. ‘Thanks. So it’s a yes to the black and white check mini skirt and blazer set?’ I ask, and he nods instantly with a grin. ‘I can’t wait to see the rest of your outfits,’ he says, turning into the car park at the shopping centre. ‘There’s… quite a few to come. I’m a bit nervous about a couple of them,’ I say as he pulls into a parking space, and he gives me a greasy smirk. ‘I’m even more excited now,’ he says, and I swat at him, the boy chuckling as he ducks away from my hand. ‘I’ve just driven you to buy you food, and this is what I get in return?’ ‘Yes. You’re lucky I’m not beating the shit out of you.’ He sighs, checking his blond hair in the mirror before climbing out of the car, and I reach into the back and grab my bag before getting out too.

‘Oh, my God,’ he says, sounding shocked, and I instantly panic. ‘What?’ ‘What are those?’ he shouts, throwing his hands down to point at my feet, and everyone within a hundred metre radius turns to look at us. ‘Joon!’ I exclaim, embarrassed at him grabbing so much attention. ‘Sorry. But seriously? What are those?’ he asks, and I look down at my shoes. ‘They’re sock boots. What’s wrong with them?’ I ask, and he stares at them before taking a step back and looking me up and down. ‘Nothing. They look great. I’m just shocked to see you in shoes other than trainers. And is that a handbag I see instead of the usual backpacks?’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. We walk towards the entrance, and I struggle to keep up with him (I always struggle when walking next to him, but even more so in these boots). ‘Wait,’ I say, hooking my arm through his so I can slow him down, and he laughs. ‘Aww, struggling in your boots?’ he teases, and I huff. ‘Shut up,’ I pout, and he laughs again, looking at me with an affectionate gaze and an amused smile.

But the affection and amusement soon disappears. ‘y/n. You’re literally killing me here. Hurry up,’ he says impatiently. ‘Sorry, Joon. It’s my first time wearing heels though, cut me some slack. At least I haven’t fallen over,’ I say brightly, trying to put a positive spin on it, and he scowls. He’s been trying his best to walk slow but he’s now struggling not to walk at his normal pace – his legs are so much longer than mine. ‘Yet,’ he says venomously, and I gasp. ‘Was that a threat?’ I demand, feigning indignance, and he side-eyes me. ‘Maybe it was. I could stick my foot out right now and no one would ever know,’ he says in a wistful tone, and I shoot him a dirty look. ‘I’ll step on your foot if you try it. Then who’ll be laughing when my boots ruin your Balenciagas?’ ‘Me, because you’ll be buying me new ones.’ ‘With what money? I ain’t got money like that.’ ‘Oh, but you got money for clothes?’ ‘I always got money for clothes.’ ‘Get a sugar daddy.’ ‘You are my sugar daddy.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Who takes me out for food at least twice a week? And buys me things out of the blue?’ ‘Damn. I really am your sugar daddy. This isn’t a good deal for me at all. You’re getting the daddy, but I’m not getting any sugar.’ ‘I’m not sure that that means exactly what you intended it to mean.’ ‘You know what I meant. I want my sugar, bitch.’ ‘Jen can give you sugar instead.’ ‘Okay, but Jen isn’t getting the daddy. You are.’ ‘She was getting the daddy last night.’ ‘Did you really just refer to my dick as ‘the daddy’?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Never do that again.’

‘Where are we eating?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘Wang and Nayeon are waiting for us at Red Velvet,’ he says, and I gasp. ‘Yes! It’s been so long since we’ve been to Red Velvet!’ I exclaim, and he laughs amusedly. ‘I know. I was worried you might start getting withdrawal symptoms.’ ‘I thought we’d never go back. Does Seulgi still work there?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow, and he pulls a face. ‘Yep,’ he says, and I feel my eyes widen. ‘And we’re still gonna go?’ ‘Yes, because I’m a great person and make sacrifices for you even though all you do is abuse me and threaten to ruin my Balenciagas,’ he says, and I pout. ‘Sorry, Joonie,’ I say, putting on a baby voice as I give him puppy dog eyes, and he refuses to look at me, fighting a smile off his face. ‘Apology accepted. Now stop being the real-life version of that emoji.’ ‘Which one?’ ‘Don’t play dumb, you know exactly which one I mean.’

We round the corner to where Red Velvet is, tucked away from the rest of the shopping centre, and Nayeon and Jackson are sat in the window booth, watching a video on Nayeon’s phone together. When Namjoon and I enter, the little bell above the door rings, and both of them look up at us. Nayeon grins so wide I’m worried her face is going to split, and Jackson does a double take, eyes wider than an anime girl’s. ‘y/n?’ he exclaims, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the restaurant, and I shoot him a look, shushing him. ‘Oh, my God. What’s happened to you? Who’s this sexy thing?’ Jackson says as I slide into the booth opposite him and Nayeon, shuddering at the thought of my bare legs on the worn (and most likely, germ-carrying) leather of the seat as Namjoon slides in beside me. ‘Don’t refer to me as a ‘thing’, I’m not an object,’ I mutter, but my comment is ignored when Namjoon says, ‘literally my exact reaction.’ ‘No, it wasn’t. You did not call me sexy,’ I frown, and he blinks at me, looking surprised. ‘Did I not?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Well, I thought you would’ve gathered that I thought that anyway. Based on the way I had to pick my tongue up from the floor when I saw you,’ he says, Jackson and Nayeon laughing as I roll my eyes.

‘You look good. Really good, y/n. I didn’t know you had boobs,’ Jackson says, inspecting me, and I try not to squirm under his scrutinising gaze. ‘Neither did I! Until I walked in on her naked!’ Nayeon says, Jackson’s eyes nearly falling out of his head. ‘I was in my underwear,’ I say defensively, and Nayeon rolls her eyes. ‘Details. But, yeah, after I saw her hot bod, I told her to stop wearing Billie Eilish’s hand-me-downs.’ ‘And gave her your hand-me-downs instead?’ ‘Excuse me, these are brand new,’ I point out, and Nayeon nods. ‘Yeah. You should know me better. I could never pull off an outfit like that.’ ‘I could pull it off you,’ Jackson jokes, Namjoon fist-bumping him as they laugh, Nayeon and I exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘I could pull it off you too, y/n,’ Jackson says with a little quirk of his eyebrow, and I roll my eyes, willing myself not to blush. ‘Jackson! y/n’s our baby, and we’ve gotta protect her from fuckboys, so stop being one,’ Nayeon says with a slap to his shoulder. ‘There won’t be any… fuckboys,’ I say, and all three of them raise their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re delusional if you think that. Just wait ‘til a frat boy sees you,’ Jackson says, and I frown. ‘Okay. That sounds fake, but, okay,’ I say, just as Seulgi appears to take our order.

‘Hi, and welcome to Red Velvet. What can I get for you?’ she says in the most bored tone I’ve ever heard. She must really hate her job. Even more with this moron sat beside me in here. ‘Can I get the Ice Cream Cake freakshake please?’ Nayeon asks, Seulgi gracing her with a rare smile as she writes down her order. ‘Can I get the Power Up brownie with Red Flavour ice cream please? And just water?’ Jackson asks, also getting a smile. ‘Can I get the Cookie Jar freakshake? And she’ll have Mojito cheesecake with Blue Lemonade. Thanks,’ Namjoon says, ordering for me too, but, unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a smile. ‘Will you all be paying together?’ ‘I’m paying for mine and his,’ Nayeon says, pointing at herself and Jackson (she lost a bet with him a couple weeks ago, and owes him a meal). ‘And I’m paying for mine and hers,’ Namjoon says, Seulgi fixing him with a dirty look. ‘So this is who you’ve moved on to now?’ she demands, Nayeon and Jackson wincing. ‘Sis, you can have him,’ I say, unable to resist, and Namjoon shoots me evils as Seulgi looks bewildered. ‘Pardon?’ ‘I’m good, luv. Enjoy,’ I say, but she’s still staring at me, her mouth suddenly falling open. ‘y/n?’ she asks, and I nod, slightly confused. ‘OMG, I didn’t even recognise you. Girl, you look so good! I didn’t know you had boobs!’ she exclaims, and I have to stop myself from facepalming. ‘Thanks, Seulgi,’ I force out between gritted teeth, embarrassed as hell, but she doesn’t seem to notice, grinning away obliviously. ‘No problem. I’ll just get your orders put through and then I’ll come back for payments,’ she says, visibly perkier (nothing like seeing one of your friends unrecognisable after a makeover to cure a bad mood – apparently), before disappearing.

‘That was awkward,’ Namjoon says nonchalantly, all three of us fixing him with hard stares. ‘It wouldn’t have been so awkward if you weren’t such a dick,’ I say blithely, and he gasps dramatically. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Don’t play innocent, dumbass. If you hadn’t had slept with Joy and Seulgi on the same day, we wouldn’t be in this situation. We’d actually have avoided a lot of situations if you weren’t such a dog,’ Nayeon says, brutally honest as ever. ‘Hey, I never made any kind of commitment to either of them!’ Namjoon defends himself, both Nayeon and I shaking our heads at him. ‘It’s common courtesy, douchebag,’ I reply, Namjoon sticking his tongue out at me. ‘I’d like to know what situations you’re referring to. I don’t get us into awkward situations,’ he says, all three of us giving him a ‘really?’ look.

‘Remember when we went out to that bar – what was it called again? Oh, yeah, Playing With Fire – and Jisoo threw that drink at you for blocking her on socials after you slept together?’ Jackson reminds us, Namjoon nodding slightly embarrassedly. ‘Oh, and when we went to Breakthrough, that club, and Sana got us kicked out by pretending we smuggled drugs in because you ghosted her after telling her you felt ‘something real’ for her?’ Nayeon brings up, all of us looking pointedly at Namjoon who nods sheepishly. ‘And that fight you got into with Daniel after you went ‘round telling people that Jihyo’s your sloppy seconds?’ I say, and he gasps indignantly. ‘I didn’t say that once!’ ‘Still. If you hadn’t had slept with her, that fake rumour wouldn’t have gone around,’ I say, and he pouts. ‘We could name several girls you’ve gotten us into awkward situations with. Chaeyoung, Hyejin, Wendy, Dahyun-’ ‘Okay, okay, damn. I get the picture,’ he says, the three of us exchanging looks.

‘Anyway, I need to go toilet. Come with me, y/n?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. Namjoon sighs, reluctantly getting out of the booth to let me out. ‘Whoa, hold on,’ Jackson says, and I turn around to face him. ‘y/n… what you doing out here with all this ass?’ he asks, voice far too loud for my liking, and the few people in the restaurant turn to look at us disapprovingly. ‘Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon!’ Namjoon exclaims, before they chorus, ‘Hella ass!’ They burst into laughter, and my face is on fire, everybody in the restaurant staring at us (or, more specifically, my ass). ‘y/n, you dumb thicc, sis,’ Jackson says, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘I’m going to go to the toilet now.’ ‘Take some ass pics while you’re there!’

joon: hey sexc

y/n: hey, what’s up ?

joon: wang wants 2 know if u nd nayeon r up 4 wing wednesday @ KPN

y/n: what time ?

joon: weneva imma get there 6.30

y/n: are there gonna be any other girls there?

joon: idk prolly the boys gfs

joon: y u asking so many qs u dnt have 2 come if u dnt wanna

y/n: I just don’t wanna be one of the only girls at a frat house with loads of stupid frat boys

joon: ill protect u bby

joon: me nd wang got u

y/n: much appreciated

y/n: we’ll come, but I’ll text you when we get there and you need to meet us at the door

y/n: I’ll feel awkward just walking in

joon: ok but call dnt text

y/n: you never answer your phone

joon: ill take it off silent 4 u angel ;)

y/n: thank youuu

joon: ofc see u tmrw

y/n: see youuu, goodnight joonie

joon: gn stupid

‘Wrong number,’ he says when he answers the phone, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re at the door, come get us,’ I say, and he lets out a loud sigh. ‘I’m gonna lose my seat,’ he complains, and I huff. ‘Joon, please come get us. Do you know what it’s like being a girl around dozens of frat boys? You need to look after us,’ I plead, and he sighs again. ‘Give me a minute,’ he replies before the line clicks off. ‘Is he coming?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. ‘Good, because it’s freezing,’ she says, clutching at her bare arms. ‘That’s what you get for wearing a t-shirt,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘It’s not like you’re dressed warmly either,’ she says pointedly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not complaining about the cold.’ ‘Yeah, which I’m surprised about, because that top is thin as hell.’ ‘It’s not that thin.’ ‘Sis, I borrowed that top yesterday – it’s thin.’

I’m dressed in a black long-sleeve top tucked into a pair of greyish-whiteish joggers, with white trainers on my feet, a simple gold necklace around my neck with an initial pendant, a couple gold bracelets on my wrist and gold rings on my fingers. Nayeon’s in a pair of blue mom jeans and a black t-shirt, a cross body bag with both of our things inside it on her shoulder. Neither of us have bothered with full faces or pretty hairstyles – we’ve both got on basic makeup with our hair out and natural. It isn’t really that cold; it’s 8, and the air is starting to get crisp and cool, but the sun’s only just beginning to set, so there’s still a little warmth. Nayeon’s just a drama queen.

The door opens after a few seconds, Namjoon glowering at us, before he looks me up and down, his frown being replaced with a smirk. ‘Have I told you I love this new y/n? Like… this is a look,’ he says, and I grin at him, feeling a little more confident now. ‘I’m stood right here,’ Nayeon says with a half-hearted scowl, and Namjoon grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a side hug. ‘Nayeon, me complimenting you is like complimenting Mona Lisa. She already knew she was sexy as hell so what’s the point?’ he says easily, Nayeon preening as I roll my eyes. ‘You think Mona Lisa’s sexy?’ ‘Not as sexy as you.’ ‘Can we go inside? I’m cold,’ Nayeon says, not waiting for either of us to reply before she slips past Namjoon into the house. ‘Come on,’ Namjoon says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him.

The second we step into the living room, the smell of strong cologne, alcohol and weed hits me and all eyes flit from Nayeon – who’s hugging Jinyoung and squealing – to me and Joon. Well, more me than Joon. ‘Woah. Who’s this? Surely not y/n,’ I hear Hoseok say, and I shoot him a dirty look, the boy grinning in return. ‘Shut it, stupid,’ I say, Namjoon continuing to walk towards the kitchen, dragging me along behind him. When we step into the kitchen, the smell of spicy wings hits me, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the takeout bags covering the countertop. But when I realise none of the bags are unopened, meaning frat boys have already been at them, it puts me off a little – I’d rather not eat food that might have been tampered with.

‘Look. My seat’s taken,’ Namjoon says pointedly, motioning to where Kai sits on a stool, beside Taemin and Seokwoo, the three of them laughing at whatever story Jaehyun’s telling them. ‘You’ll survive. What’s the point of having such long legs if you don’t stand on them?’ ‘There’s no logic in that. Go get my seat back,’ he says, and I side-eye him, wondering if he’s being serious or not. ‘How am I supposed to get your seat back?’ ‘Go flirt with him.’ ‘No! Him and Krystal have got a thing,’ I say, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. ‘That won’t stop him from flirting back,’ he says, and I glare at him. ‘I cannot stress this enough. Men are trash,’ I say before turning away from him, heading towards where there’s a couple dozen drink bottles and cups covering the countertop. I carefully pour myself a lemonade, making sure the cup’s clean and the bottle hasn’t been tampered with (I know Wing Wednesday is ‘for the boys’ so it’s unlikely it’s spiked, but it never hurts to take precautions).

‘y/n!’ I hear Mina exclaim, and I turn to see her stood there, smiling widely. ‘Mina!’ I squeal, pulling the girl into a hug. Mina’s one of Nayeon’s friends (they’re on the same course) but because Nayeon and I are inseparable, Nayeon’s friends are my friends too. Mina’s here because she’s dating Bambam, a KPN frat boy, and it makes me realise my privilege; Nayeon and I are only here because of our connections. If we weren’t best friends with Jackson and Namjoon, we’d have missed out on so many amazing memories. ‘How have you been? I haven’t seen you for ages!’ she says as we break apart, and I grin widely. ‘I’ve been good. Really good.’ ‘You look it. This style is, like, amazing! Is this new style permanent?’ she asks, and I smile shyly. ‘I think so. I actually… really like my new style,’ I say, and before Mina can speak, I hear Baekhyun say, ‘I like it too.’ Mina and I both turn to look at him, his stupid grin making me roll my eyes amusedly. ‘Hey, Baek,’ I say, the boy opening his arms for a hug, which I give (reluctantly). Baekhyun is Nayeon’s ex. They’re still friends – they’re actually on really good terms – but I’m still… cautious around him. He’s funny, and we get along, but I can never see him the same after hearing all the drama from Nayeon.

I clear myself a space on the countertop and boost myself up, sitting on the hard wood surface and Mina joins me, Baekhyun standing in front of us. ‘Have you had any wings?’ Baekhyun asks, and Mina and I exchange a glance, obviously thinking the same thing. ‘No, I’m… not really feeling wings,’ I say, Mina nodding in agreement, letting out little giggles behind her hand. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ he asks, and, to be honest, I’m starving. But I am not about to eat those… frat boy wings, and neither is Mina. ‘Yeah, I could eat.’ ‘Let’s order some pizza then,’ he grins, and I gasp. ‘Pizza? On Wings Wednesday? Isn’t that against frat laws?’ I tease, and he rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone. ‘What toppings do you have?’ ‘Just get margherita.’ ‘Shall I get two larges?’ ‘Yeah, Nayeon will want some too,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes again, an amused smile on his face. ‘I’m not ordering pizza for Nayeon – I’m ordering it for us.’ ‘I’ll transfer you the money.’ ‘y/n… it’s pizza. You don’t need to transfer me money for it.’ ‘Why not? I don’t mind paying.’ ‘Yeah, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I made you pay’ ‘You’re not a gentleman,’ I reply amusedly, and he clutches his heart, pretending to be hurt. ‘I am.’ ‘You’re not. And you’ve made me pay for food before. Remember the Chinese we ordered after the LSG party, and you made me answer the door, so I had to pay?’ I say, and he winces. ‘Well… the pizza makes up for it,’ he says, and I just raise an eyebrow, amused.

It’s so… wrong that he’s only willing to pay for food for me now that he finds me attractive, but I won’t complain aloud; it’s free food after all. And then it gets me thinking. Maybe I should… take advantage of the effect my new look’s having. I mean, frat boys aren’t the… smartest, are they? Namjoon may be an exception when it comes to his education, but his common sense? He has next to none, demonstrated by the stupid situations his whore behaviour has gotten us into. And the rest of them are even stupider than him. I’ve always been a master of manipulation, and it’ll be even easier now they think I’m hot.

It isn’t long until the pizzas arrive and the second Baekhyun leaves to collect them at the door, Mina turns to me with a grin. ‘Girl, if you don’t take advantage of all these boys thirsting over you, I swear, I’ll be so disappointed,’ she says, making me burst into laughter. ‘I was literally just thinking about doing it!’ I exclaim, both of us laughing. ‘No, but for real. You should, like, make the most of it while it lasts. Not to sound nasty, but you know it won’t be long until there’s another girl they’re all into. You should exploit this opportunity whilst you’re still the… object of the affections,’ she says, making me laugh. ‘Exploit this opportunity?’ I repeat, and she nods with a grin. ‘Their generosity will only go to a certain extent,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Wanna test that?’ she asks, a challenging glint in her eye, and I grin, nodding. ‘Go look in the fridge, and when you’re asked what you’re looking for, say… Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Vanilla Coke?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Okay.’

I head over to the drinks fridge (they keep their food in the mini fridge and their drinks in the big fridge – their priorities are so fucked up) and open the door. I scan the bottles, seeing mainly lemonade and coke with a couple alcoholic bottles, but no Vanilla Coke. ‘y/n!’ I hear from behind me, and I turn to see Donghyuck stood there, a big grin on his face. ‘Hyuck! Hey!’ I exclaim, throwing my arms around him. Donghyuck and I did extra credit classes together last year, and I’ve barely seen him since. ‘You look so different!’ he says, holding me away to inspect me, hands light on my shoulders, and I grin, bending one leg at the knee and striking a pose, making him laugh. ‘It’s weird to see you in clothes that fit,’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t even. Everyone’s making such a big deal of it.’ ‘Yeah, because you look hot.’ ‘Whatever.’

I turn back to the fridge, and he comes to stand beside me. ‘Whatcha looking for?’ ‘Vanilla Coke. I’m, like craving it,’ I lie, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re lucky we’ve got lemonade and coke. KPN stick to basics,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t. Vanilla Coke is amazing.’ ‘Well, the corner shop down the road might have some. Shall we go get some?’ he suggests, and I’m shocked. Mina was right. He’s willing the leave Wings Wednesday with his frat brothers to go get Vanilla Coke from the shop with me. ‘You sure?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘It’s only a two-minute walk.’ ‘Okay. Let’s g-’ ‘y/n!’ I hear Mina call before materialising next to me. ‘Hey, Mina,’ I say, Donghyuck greeting the girl too. ‘Hey, Hyuck. I’m need to steal y/n. Emergency,’ she says, and my eyes widen. I’ve literally left her alone for a minute. What emergency does she have? ‘You okay?’ ‘Yeah, it’s just… I started. Do you have a pad?’ she whispers, loud enough for Donghyuck to hear, the boy wrinkling his nose in disgust, making me roll my eyes. Why boys are so grossed out about periods, I don’t know. It took two entire years of friendship with Namjoon to get him to buy me some pads. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘Will you come to the toilet with me?’ she asks, and I nod, apologising to Donghyuck before Mina drags me out of the kitchen, through the living room and upstairs.

‘Oh, shit! My pads are in Nayeon’s bag,’ I say when we reach the top of the stairs, and Mina lets out an annoyed noise. ‘I don’t actually need a pad, stupid! I was just getting you away from him,’ she whispers before pulling me into the bathroom. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because now he’ll go get your Vanilla Coke from the shop and you won’t have to go with him,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Are you kidding? He’s not gonna go.’ ‘Yes, he will,’ she says, before letting out an exasperated sigh. ‘Remember when I stayed home for a few months, because I wasn’t well?’ she asks, and I nod – Nayeon was heartbroken that she didn’t have Mina to gossip with in her lectures. ‘When I came back, all the boys were fussing over me. Trust me; he will go and get that coke.’

We spend a couple minutes in the bathroom, reapplying our lipgloss and fixing our hair, before we head back downstairs, quickly grabbing two of the empty stools in the kitchen, Bambam sat next to Mina and Namjoon sat next to me, chatting with Minho about football strategy for their next match. ‘y/n!’ I hear Donghyuck’s voice after a few minutes, making me stop mid-conversation with Yugyeom about dessert on Monday at Red Velvet (it was so good, I can’t stop thinking about it – I might have to drag Namjoon back there this weekend). I turn to see him stood at the door, holding up a bottle of Vanilla Coke, and I have to stifle a laugh, pushing down guilt. ‘Oh, my God, thank you, Hyuck! You’re the best!’ I exclaim, giving the boy a hug before he disappears to find me a clean cup. ‘I was right,’ Mina says with a grin. ‘I feel bad.’ ‘Don’t. You didn’t make him get it.’ ‘Yeah, but I’m not even gonna drink it. I don’t like Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Well, it’s a good thing I do.’

joon: u got a lecture tmrw

y/n: it’s Friday tomorrow right ?

joon: um ye how do u not know

joon: r u still drunk from last night

y/n: I wasn’t drunk! I didn’t even touch any alcohol !

joon; then y were u letting johnny touch u up

y/n: I wasn’t! there was fluff on my boob and he took it off for me !

joon: ur so naive

joon: n e ways, do u have a lecture tmrw

y/n: yeah, 1-3

joon: wanna go 4 coffee after ill pick u up

y/n: sounds good

y/n: I’ll pay

joon: no

y/n: you paid for dessert !

joon: idc, ill pay 4 coffee

joon: u save ur money 4 clothes ;)

y/n: ew

joon: bitch do u want coffee or no

y/n: yes :)))

joon: ill b there @ 3, dnt b late like monday

y/n: okayyy see you at three joonie

joon: yep, night sexc

y/n: ew

joon: fine u can walk 2 starbucks

y/n: NO I’M SORRY

y/n: joon pls answer

y/n: stop leaving me on read !

y/n: fine, you can go to starbucks by yourself

joon: sorry

joon: y/n

joon: r u there

joon: bitch answer me

joon: ignore me if u wanna fuck

y/n: you’re such an idiot

joon: gn y/nie

y/n: night stupid, ilyyyy

joon: luv u 2 dummy

‘Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get you?’ the barista asks, smiling widely. He’s handsome, with dirty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and sparkling brown eyes, and I can’t help but smile back. ‘Hi, can I get two large iced vanilla lattes please?’ I ask, the boy nodding as he clicks away at the register. My eyes flit to his little name tag. His name is Hyunjin. Cute. ‘What name shall I put on the cups?’ he asks, eyes sparkling when he looks back up at me, and I smile shyly when I say, ‘y/n.’ ‘Pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he replies, not giving me a moment to process the compliment before he says, ‘that’ll be £7.40. Cash or card?’ ‘Card,’ a voice behind me says, and I turn to see Jaemin stood there, smiling. ‘Can I add a large iced americano to that too?’ he says, holding up his card, and Hyunjin nods, tapping at the register. ‘Jaemin, don’t. I’ll pay,’ I say, though it’s Namjoon’s money in my hand, not my own. ‘It’s fine, y/n. I don’t mind,’ he says with a grin, and I smile back, touched.

Jaemin moves around me to pay for the three drinks, and I feel a little awkward, stood behind him, waiting. ‘How have you been, y/n?’ he asks once he’s paid, and I smile. ‘I’ve been really good, thanks. How about you?’ ‘Yeah, great. You look… different since the last time I saw you,’ he says with a little smirk, and I roll my eyes, an amused smile playing at my lips. ‘I’m assuming that was a compliment.’ ‘Of course. How could it be anything other than a compliment when the ‘different’ I’m talking about is this?’ he says with a flirty grin, motioning to my outfit (a pair of tight black cargo trousers and a long-sleeved black top, big black stomper boots on my feet and silver jewellery).

Jaemin flirts with me for a little while, but his americano is ready before mine and Joon’s lattes and he has a lecture at 3.30, so he leaves with the promise of continuing our conversation at the ASP party tomorrow, which I had no idea about. ‘y/n!’ Hyunjin calls and I go over to grab the lattes. I notice a caramel shortbread on a plate beside the cups, and I look up at him questioningly, the boy grinning back. ‘It’s on the house,’ he says, and I can’t help but let out a giggle, flattered. ‘Thank you.’ ‘No problem… y/n. I’m a student, at the university, and I heard your… friend talking about the party tomorrow. I’ll be there, and it’d be nice to see you,’ he says, smiling as he leans against the counter casually, my heart jumping. He’s hot, he’s confident and he’s sweet – I could definitely see myself getting to know him. ‘Yeah, it’d be nice to see you too,’ I reply shyly, breaking off our eye contact after a few seconds. ‘See you tomorrow then,’ he grins before turning to deal with the next customer.

I carefully take the lattes and the shortbread over to mine and Joon’s table in the corner, the boy instantly biting into the shortbread. ‘That is mine.’ ‘I paid for your coffee, so I can have a bite of your shortbread,’ he says, mouth full of food, and I scrunch my nose up in disgust, sitting down opposite him. ‘No, actually, you didn’t.  Jaemin did,’ I say, dropping Joon’s money on the table in front of him, and he frowns. ‘Who’s Jaemin? The cute barista you were just flirting with?’ he asks drily as he picks up one of the coffees, taking a sip. ‘No, his name’s Hyunjin. And I wasn’t flirting with him,’ I say, embarrassed, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Then what’s this?’ he asks, holding his cup out to me. I can’t hold back my smile when I see that Hyunjin’s written his number on the label with a smiley face beside it. ‘Exactly what I thought. Anyway… who’s Jaemin?’ ‘KPN Jaemin. He was behind me in the queue and he paid for our drinks. And then Hyunjin gave me the shortbread for free,’ I say, and Joon narrows his eyes at me.

‘I can’t believe you’re making these boys do all these things for you.’ ‘They’re doing it voluntarily – I’m not making them do anything!’ ‘So you didn’t make Donghyuck get your Vanilla Coke on Wednesday?’ ‘No, he choose to go get it!’ ‘Well, you’re putting Tia and Tamera to good use.’ ‘Tia and Tamera?’ I ask, confused, and he points at my chest. ‘Tia… and Tamera,’ he says, naming each boob, ‘don’t you listen to Doja Cat?’ ‘Not religiously – Say So’s the only song of hers on my Spotify.’ ‘Tasteless.’ ‘You’re tasteless for accusing me of using my boobs to manipulate boys,’ I hiss, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Did I lie?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Okay, maybe I did. It’s not just Tia and Tamera. It’s Tia and Tamera and… Nicole!’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Nicole?’ ‘Use your brain.’ ‘Did you just name my ass Nicole?’ I ask incredulously, and he nods, seemingly proud of himself. ‘People look at it more than they look at your face, so I think it deserves naming,’ he says bitterly, and I gasp. ‘That was low. People look at my face. I’m not just my body. My face is pretty too,’ I say coldly, a little hurt, and he looks guilty. ‘Well, of course your face is pretty, I just-’ ‘You just what? Judged me, even though you’ve slept with more girls than I’ve ever been friends with? Just remember that there’s a lot you’ve done that I could judge you on, but I don’t, because we’re best friends.’

The air is tense after I finish speaking, and I feel sick. Joon and I have never argued. Our friendship has always been so laidback, so chill, so easy. I’ve never had any downs in my friendship with him because we get along so well. But I’m surprised at him being so judgmental, and so… douchey about me getting some male attention for the first time in… well, forever. ‘Sorry, y/n. I’m being a dick,’ he says softly, and I can see that he feels guilty. I decide it’s best to end our argument here, because this isn’t a nice feeling. ‘Whatever, it’s fine, Joon. Anyway… you didn’t tell me ASP are having a party tomorrow! Am I not invited?’ I tease, and he grins, the tension between us gone. ‘No, you’re not. I’m tired of you being so dependent on me.’ ‘Shut it. You’d be lost without me.’ ‘Whatever. I was supposed to tell you about it at KPN, but I barely got to speak to you. You were… popular that night,’ he says quietly, not meeting my eyes, and suddenly, I can feel the awkwardness making a reappearance. ‘Ah, well, I guess there’s no point asking you to take me to Red Velvet then,’ I say wistfully, trying to change the subject, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Ask Wang, he’ll take you.’ ‘No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna be bloated at the party. We can reschedule to Sunday – order some for a hangover cure. Can I sleep over?’ I ask, and he nods, smiling to himself. ‘You and Nayeon are always welcome. There’s enough bed space for the three of us.’ ‘You say that, and yet, you end up on the floor with us two in your bed every time.’ ‘I’ll climb in with you while you’re asleep.’ ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ ‘Shut up and eat your shortbread. Or do you not wanna be bloated?’ ‘Matter of fact, you’re right. These cargo trousers are already tight.’ ‘That’s because you’ve got a fat ass.’

y/n: hey, is this hyunjin ? from Starbucks ?

hyunjin: yeah, and is this y/n ? the pretty cargo trousers girl ?

y/n: the one and only ☺️

hyunjin: I was worried you wouldn’t reach out to me after I saw you go and sit with that boy

hyunjin: I felt terrible bc I didn’t even ask if you had a boyfriend

y/n: oh no, he isn’t my boyfriend

y/n: he’s my best friend, namjoon

hyunjin: as in kim namjoon ?

y/n: yep, you’ve probably heard of him lol

hyunjin: I have lmao he has quite a reputation

hyunjin: I didn’t recognise him

hyunjin: I just saw you go and sit with a handsome boy and I felt awful

y/n: well, you don’t have to feel bad

y/n: and he’s not that handsome lmao

y/n: he’s just… namjoon

hyunjin: well, I’ll have to thank him when I see him

hyunjin: if he hadn’t given you my number from his cup, I’d have felt like an idiot

y/n: it’s a good thing he pointed it out to me lol

hyunjin: yeah, I’m relieved

hyunjin: I know it’s forward of me and I hope you don’t think I’m out of line

hyunjin; but I just thought you were really cute and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity

hyunjin: especially after jaemin paid for your drinks and flirted with you

hyunjin: I know it sounds silly but I was debating whether or not it was worth competing with him

y/n: jaemin’s not really interested, he flirts with anything that has a pulse

y/n: but I’m glad you didn’t waste the opportunity

y/n: I thought you were cute too, and I love your hair

hyunjin: ah thank you! I was a little nervous about growing it out

y/n: it’s unique, and it really suits you

hyunjin: thanks y/n :)

hyunjin: it’s late so I’m gonna head to bed but I’m glad you texted me, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow !

y/n: okay, hyunjin, goodnight ! see you tomorrow :)

hyunjin: goodnight ! :)

joon: do u need a lift tmrw

y/n: no, jackson said he’s gonna pick us up

y/n: but thank you for offering anywayyy

joon: ok

joon: why did it take you 30 mins 2 reply its lit rally 2am, what else r u busy with

y/n: I was texting

joon: who

y/n: oh, just the, um, the girls groupchat, to talk about what we’re gonna wear tomorrow

joon: ok

y/n: I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll speak to you tomorrow

joon: aight gn dum dum

y/n: night joonie, sweet dreamsss

joon: ill dream of u in ur crop tops

y/n: pervert

joon: luv u ;)

y/n: love you more dumbass

‘y/n! y/n! y/n!’ ‘Oh, my God, Nayeon, you’re like a child! I’m mid-conversation!’ ‘I know, but this is important!’ she says, tugging on the strap of my top, her force nearly making me spill my drink down my outfit. I thought I’d dress simple, in just a black strappy lowcut crop top and a pair of ripped blue jeans, fluffy black slides on my feet and simple gold jewellery to accessorise. ‘Sorry, Dahyun,’ I sigh with a roll of my eyes, the girl grinning back. ‘It’s fine – go deal with your important business,’ she laughs, and Nayeon takes this as a signal to drag me into the kitchen, leaving Dahyun alone in the back garden. ‘What is it?’ I ask, and she grins. ‘I found your cute barista boy! Well, I think so, anyway. Not many boys have dirty blond ponytails.’ ‘Oh… okay.’ ‘Aren’t you excited?’ ‘I think you’re excited enough for both of us.’ ‘I’m serious, y/n! I saw him, and he’s really hot! You’ve been texting all day, and you said he’s really sweet. He could be your first boyfriend!’ ‘Nayeon, you’re getting ahead of yourself – I’ve literally known him for… 32 hours. And I don’t even know him, really. All I know is his name and that he works at Starbucks.’ ‘Well… this is your chance to get to know him. He’s with his friends in the living room – go,’ she says, not giving me a chance to reply before she pushes me through the open door.

He spots me instantly, calling my name, and I scan the room until my eyes meet his, smiles breaking across our faces as he waves me over. I head around the edges of the room, not wanting to get caught in the group of people dancing, until I reach him and his friends in the corner. ‘Hey, y/n! You look nice!’ he exclaims, smiling widely, and I feel butterflies; he really is so handsome. ‘Thanks, Hyunjin. You do, too,’ I say honestly, looking him up and down; his black jeans, loose blue and white striped shirt only buttoned halfway with a black t-shirt beneath are a chic and stylish contrast to the Starbucks apron he was wearing yesterday. Half of his hair is up in a ponytail with a few loose strands framing his face and his ears are adorned with earrings, sparkling in the low light. He introduces me to his friends, who all seem nice (I think I’ve seen a few of them before – I’m sure a couple of them are KPN frat brothers). As soon as the introductions are done, he asks if I’ll go with him to get a drink. He takes my hand gently – a shock running up my arm at the contact – and leads me into the kitchen, getting himself a bottle of Soju from the fridge. ‘Do you want one?’ he asks, and I scrunch up my nose – I find Soju absolutely disgusting. ‘Thanks, but I’ll stick to my vodka coke for now,’ I say, holding up my cup, the boy laughing as he nods, shutting the fridge after him.

We stand in one corner of the kitchen, chatting, and our conversation flows so easily. He’s an architecture and design major, but he does dance on the side too, with some of his friends. I ask him to tell me the basic things about him and I find out that he has a dog called Kkami, he loves autumn, he’s allergic to cat fur, his favourite food is sushi and his least favourite foods are onion, carrot and eggplant. Even though he’s so handsome (like intimidatingly handsome), he’s so modest, down-to-earth, and just so sweet. He’s like a breath of fresh air in comparison to the boys I spend time with on a daily basis (no shade to Jackson and Joon, but they’re nowhere near as gentlemanly as Hyunjin – he gets me two refills before I even realise that my cup is empty, and he gets me two slices of pizza as soon as it arrives because I mentioned I hadn’t eaten). I can already feel myself crushing on him; every time he compliments me, I get so flustered and all I can do is giggle – two weeks ago me would have hated now me.

After what could be hours (I’m having the time of my life chatting away to him), he asks me to dance with him, and I’m filled with an inexplicable fear. Actually, no. It’s explicable; I have never danced at a party before. Ever. ‘It’s okay… I won’t bite,’ he teases, and I take a deep breath, smiling as I nod. He takes my hand again, his touch so light and gentle, and instead of pulling me along behind him, he lets me go first, standing just a few inches behind me as we head into the living room. We mould into the group of our peers dancing, and I feel a little awkward at first, but I soon loosen up into the rhythm of the Rihanna and Bryson Tiller song pulsing out into the room. He’s really the perfect gentleman; he doesn’t lay a hand on me other than to move me out of the way when someone drunk stumbles past. It’s a nice change from the boys that don’t hesitate to just come up behind a girl and grab onto her waist, forcing himself onto her.

But after a while, I can feel the several vodka cokes starting to take effect, my mind a little hazy, and a tipsy y/n mixed with the RnB baselines floating out from the speakers isn’t a good combination. Hyunjin’s tan skin glows in the low light, his eyes sparkling, and he looks so fucking handsome, his plump lips stretching up into a flawless grin when I hook my arms around his neck loosely, moving closer. We dance a little more… intimately, our bodies pressed together after a few minutes, and his hands rest on my lower back, not venturing any lower, and his eyes stay on my face, even though my cleavage is right there. His gentlemanliness just makes him even sexier to me.

I look up at him, and notice that some of his hair in his face, and so I reach to brush it back behind his ear. His hair is so soft, the locks just gliding between my fingers, and I can’t help but run my fingers through the loose hair that he hasn’t pulled up into a ponytail, my nails gently scraping against the back of his neck. He shivers a little, his neck obviously sensitive, and it makes me look him in the eyes, practically getting lost in them. And before my brain can even register it, he leans towards me and my eyes flutter shut, his lips softly brushing against mine a few moments later. My first kiss.

He moves away, almost to check if I’m okay with it, and I just lean towards him, pressing our lips together again, making him let out a chuckle against my mouth. My mind numbs a little when he parts my lips with his, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I really didn’t know that kissing was this good. His hands press into my back, holding me against him, and I grip onto his strong shoulders, his scent of lemony shampoo and expensive aftershave flooding my senses as our lips move against each other. ‘y/n, get a room!’ I hear Jin, one of Joon’s stupid friends, shout, followed by laughter, making me break away from Hyunjin, blinking as though I’ve just woken up, Hyunjin just smiling back at me. I turn to Jin, shooting him a dirty look and telling him to fuck off before turning back to Hyunjin. I feel braver than usual due to the alcohol and the fact that I’ve just kissed a boy I met yesterday in the middle of a frat party, and so I ask, ‘do you… want to get a room?’ ‘Um… what?’ he asks, blinking, and I feel the humiliation setting in already. ‘I mean, we don’t have to… but I thought you might want t-’ ‘Yes. I do want to.’

We’re both laughing drunkenly as we head up the stairs (it seems the several bottles of Soju he’s had have made him a little tipsy), our hands clasped together. ‘Whose room are we using?’ ‘Um, we can use Namjoon’s. I’m sure he won’t mind – he’ll be proud I’ve finally kissed a boy,’ I say, leading him into Joon’s room. The second we enter, he shuts the door, pushing me up against it and pressing our lips together again, his body against mine and our hands still intertwined against the door. I tangle my free hand into his soft locks, his free hand gently roaming up and down my side, and it’s bliss, the way he touches me. He’s such a good kisser – though it’s not like I have much experience anyway. ‘Did you say I’m your first kiss?’ he asks, lips moving against mine, and I let out a little noise of affirmation, the boy grinning. ‘Good,’ he murmurs, the word making my stomach turn with butterflies.

But it’s like I’m not allowed good things. There’s a loud hammering against the other side of the door, making both of us jump, and I manage to move out of the way just before it flies open, Namjoon storming in, anger all over his face. ‘y/n,’ he says, voice shaking, and I look at him in concern, wondering what’s happened. ‘Joon, are you okay?’ ‘No, I’m not,’ he says, teeth gritted, and it’s then that I realise; he’s angry at me. ‘Oh, did you… should I have asked you if I could use your room? I didn’t think you’d mind, I’m so-’ ‘God, you’re so fucking dense!’ he shouts, making me flinch, and Hyunjin looks between us before saying, ‘y/n, I’m gonna go, you guys speak in private. I’ll… be downstairs.’ I nod, too shocked to speak, and even more shocked at the way Namjoon stares daggers at Hyunjin as he slips past him.

‘What’s your problem? There’s no need to be such a dick to me, or to Hyunjin.’ ‘Oh, so you do know his name? I’m surprised, since you only met him yesterday.’ ‘Stop being so fucking judgy! You’re allowed to fuck anything with a vagina, but I kiss a boy I met yesterday and the world’s ending!’ ‘I’m not judgy, y/n, I’m jealous! Can’t you fucking tell?’ he practically screams, and the words don’t register with me for a moment. ‘Jealous?’ I echo, and he lets out a humourless laugh, sinking down onto his bed. ‘Yes, y/n, jealous. I’ve only been in love with you for two fucking years,’ he mutters, the words hitting me like a ton of bricks. He’s in love with me. My best friend is in love with me. ‘Joon, I-’ ‘You what, y/n?’ he asks angrily, and I’m filled with such rage, I want to slap him.

‘I didn’t know! If you’d told me, I’d understand why you’re so angry! But you didn’t, so stop fucking shouting at me, and being such a dick, and making me feel guilty when I shouldn’t!’ ‘There was no point telling you, because you don’t love me back!’ he shouts, and now I feel even more guilty. ‘I love you, Joon, but as my best frie-’ ‘And that’s why I didn’t tell you! I could deal before, when I was still getting to spend time with you every day, but now that you’re getting all this attention from all these boys, it’s so… difficult.’ ‘You still should have told me,’ I say quietly, and he scoffs. ‘There was no point! It doesn’t change anything! You still don’t like me!’ ‘No, I don’t, but you shouldn’t be angry at me about it.’ ‘I think I have a right to be angry!’ he shouts, and my eyes fill with tears. ‘Well, you don’t! Forgive me, Namjoon, but you’re not exactly a gentleman. Why would I fall for a boy that has a different girl in his bed every day, who plays girls like it’s his job, who’s misogynistic and vulgar and a dog? You don’t get to be such a dick to women and have your best friend fall in love with you, because it doesn’t work that way!’

‘Oh, and Hyunjin isn’t a dick?’ ‘No! He’s sweet, and he’s kind, an-’ ‘You’ve known him for one day, and you’re already rushing upstairs to lose your fucking virginity to him! I thought you’d care more about your first time!’ he shouts, still so judgmental, and I feel myself practically shaking with rage. How dare he behave the way he does and judge me, even though he’s supposedly in love with me? ‘Why do you care who I lose my virginity to?’ ‘Because I’m in love with you! Aren’t you fucking keeping up?’ ‘No, Namjoon, you’re not in love with me. If you were, you’d be happy that I’m happy. Instead you’re possessive and judgemental and douchey!’ We’re shouting at each other now, and anyone outside will be able to hear, but I don’t care. Let them hear how much of a dick he is. ‘I loved who you were, when-’ ‘When what? When boys didn’t talk to me? When you and Jackson were the only boys I spoke to at parties? When I was pure, untouched, innocent? Now, you’re annoyed, because I’m not who you thought I was. I don’t owe you anything, Namjoon, because you can’t expect me to have just known.’

‘Just go, y/n,’ he says, all of the anger in him disappearing, and he sounds so tired, looks so tired. And, as always, I feel guilty. ‘Joon-’ ‘No. Please, just go,’ he says, and when he looks up at me, my heart breaks. His eyes are full of tears, sadness, hurt, but the second they land on mine, they’re filled with love, too. Love that I can’t reciprocate because, he might be my best friend, but he is disgusting to girls. And I can’t love that. I can’t love him. ‘Okay. I’ll go,’ I whisper, turning away and leaving his room before I burst into tears.

[dontcare77ghj]

Fighting

Natasha x reader x Bucky x Clint

This is the second time I’ve had to repost this. It’s getting bloody annoying.

“I’m going out.” You said, pulling your bag onto your shoulders. 

“Where are you going, doll?” Bucky asked, walking towards you and resting his hands on your shoulders.

“My mother’s in town. She wants to have lunch.” You gave him a smile, which he returned. He knew how much you missed your parents.

“Is your dad also coming?” He asked you.

“No, he’s working with the professor. He might be in town next month though, maybe the three of you could join us?” You asked, biting your lower lip.

“Maybe,” Bucky answered weakly.

“You look nice,” Clint said as he entered the hall, Natasha, right behind him. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’m having lunch with my mother.” You said as he kissed your cheek in greeting. “I won’t be back till later, want me to pick up some take out?” You asked, looking between the three.

“I’ll be out,” Natasha answered. “Sorry, kotenok. I won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” Natasha told you, moving forward to kiss you. “Have fun. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You said, watching as she left the hall without sparing Bucky a glance.

“I’ll make dinner tonight,” Clint told you. “Buck, you gonna join?“ 

"Think so.” Bucky nodded. “I have to meet Steve for a training session,” Bucky said, kissing both you and Clint before leaving.

“It’s not getting any better.” You whispered to the archer. “They won’t even be in the same room as each other.”

“It’ll get better, babe, I promise,” Clint said, pulling you to his chest. “Don’t worry about them right now. For now, go and have a great time with your mother. I’m going to talk to Tash before she leaves, and Buck later, see if I can’t speed this up.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll be back. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Clint kissed you before you moved into the elevator. “Hey, I’m going to fix this, okay?” He called as the doors were closing.

“I believe you, hotshot.” You smiled. “I believe you.” You repeated as the doors closed.

“Oh, I missed you.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your mother.

“I missed you too, darlin’.” Your mother said, pulling back to look at you. “You don’t call me nearly enough.” She teased, using her gloved hands to push the hair off your face.

“I call you more than I call dad.” You said as the two of you took your seats. Your mother had chosen a cafe about an hour away from the Tower. When you’d arrived, she’d already picked a table outside the small cafe.

“That’s because your daddy never picks up.” She laughed. “Never has.”

“Have you heard from him?” You asked her. 

“No darlin’. Even if your daddy were the type to pick up, he’s working on something really big for Charles.” She shook her head. “I’d just distract him.”

“I spoke to him a couple weeks ago.” You commented. “He said he might come down next month.”

“That was supposed to be a surprise.” Your mother laughed.

“Was it?” You asked, raising a brow. “I’m pretty sure you were on that call. At least at the end.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” She laughed. “I’m sorry darlin’ my heads in the clouds.” She said as a waiter brought over your drinks.

“When did you order?” You quizzed her, pulling the drink towards you.

“When you texted that you were five minutes away.” She shrugged. “I made sure it was your favorite.” She added.

Before you could say anything, a passing car let out a loud squeal causing the woman across from to jump. And flicker.

“It’s not my favorite.” You said, looking down at hot chocolate with cinnamon. “I’ve only had it twice before, and both times were with you, grandma.”

“You’re smarter than I thought.” Mystique chuckled, eyes flashing yellow.

“You always underestimated us.” You scoffed, narrowing your eyes. “Where is my mother?”

“Anna Marie is fine,” Mystique assured you. “She believes you’re meeting her in half an hour across town. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She tutted as your hands began to glow like your fathers.

“And why is that? People are more than aware of what I am capable of. It wouldn’t shock them.” You told her.

“It might not shock them, but what could shock you would be their deaths.” She said. “You didn’t think I came here alone, did you? If you do anything, I have people waiting to kill every human around us.”

“What do you want?” You asked her, lowering your hand.

“You.” Mystique said, leaning forward. “I want you to come with me." 

"Something tells me you don’t mean for family bonding.” You scoffed.

“Unfortunately not.” She shook her head. “Wouldn’t that be nice? I haven’t seen you since you were knee-high.” She chuckled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have joined Magneto then.” You narrowed your eyes at the woman. “You would’ve seen a lot more.”

“I’m not your enemy, Y/N. We’re family.”

“You betrayed us.” You snapped. “Are you going to kill people if I don’t come peacefully?”

“Only if you use your powers.” She clarified. “Despite what you think of me, I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Well, I’m not coming with you. Never will.” You stood from the table. You quickly turned and walked away from the table. You pulled out your phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Pick up, Clint.” You groaned, pulling out your cards as you rushed down the street. 

“This is Hawkeye. I’m saving the world, or in a hospital bed. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.” Clint’s voicemail came down the line.

“Merde.” You swore. “Clint, I’m in trouble.” You started but were unable to finish as you were pulled into an alleyway. Your phone fell to the ground as you broke out of the hold. With deft fingers, you threw a card at your attacker, watching as the energy caused a small explosion.

A high shriek echoed through the alleyway before a small man entered your line of sight.

“I thought Storm fried your ass, chéri.” You smirked as Toad clung to the wall.

“I always come back.” Toad laughed.

“Like a cockroach.” You said, tapping into kinetic energy and throwing another card.

Toad once again dodged the explosion, but as he was, you turned to run. Only to be stopped by Multiple Man and Mystique.

“You have to come with us, Y/N. It’s not really a choice.” Mystique said, stalking forward.

“You haven’t even said why I have to.” You commented, looking between them and Toad. “Losing your memory, old woman?”

“Magento wants you.” Multiple Man told you. “And what he wants, he gets.” He said, turning multiple. 

“Erik needs to learn to live with disappointment.” You said, throwing more cards at the group. Toad let out another shriek, Mystique dodged, and you were lucky enough to get multiple man. 

You made a move to run out the entrance only to be pushed back by the Blob.

“Once again,” Mistique started, recovering from her shock. “It wasn’t a choice.” She said as one of the Multiple Man shot forward and attached the collar to your neck.

“You son of a bitch.” You growled, turning and attempting to attack the version, only to be brought to your knees by an electric shock.

“I am sorry, Y/N.” Mystique apologized before turning to Multiple Man and nodding. 

The last thing you saw before you blacked out from the pain was him turning the dial and Mystique walking away.

Non-reader POV

“Yoo-hoo.” A southern accent said as she entered the team’s shared living room. “Your robot let me up, Sug,” Rogue said as Tony stood to greet her. Only he, Bruce, and Wanda were currently in the room.

“Then, he did the right thing,” Tony said, embracing the woman.

The entire team had met Rogue and Gambit three years prior, and though Gambit could be a little hard to swallow, they all loved the woman.

“Oh, you’re sweet, Sug.” Rogue chuckled. “Is my daughter around? We were supposed to have lunch, and she never showed.” Rogue asked the three.

“I saw her leaving a couple hours ago,” Wanda told her. “But she never showed?”

“No. And she won’t pick up her phone. I’m getting a little worried.” Rogue told them. “If it were her daddy, I wouldn’t blink an eye, but Y/N always answers.”

“I could track her phone if that makes you feel better.” Tony offered.

“Please.” Rogue smiled at the man.

“Okay. JARVIS could you please track Y/N’s phone?” Tony asked the AI.

“Could you also bring Clint, Natasha, and Bucky down here?” Bruce added. “We can see if they know anything.”

“Miss Romanoff is on a mission. She left an hour ago.” JARVIS responded. “I have sent Y/N’s location to your phone, Mr. Stark.”

“And Y/N’s phone is,” Tony started, pulling up the file. “In an alleyway an hour away.”

“Who’s in an alleyway?” Clint asked, entering the room. “What are you doing here, Rogue? I thought you were with Y/N?” He further questioned, hugging the woman.

“She never showed,” Tony said. “JARVIS pull up any security footage involving Y/N LeBeau.”

“Wait, go back. What’s happening with Y/N? Where is she?” Clint asked.

“We don’t know. Y/N never came to lunch, and she won’t answer her phone.” Rogue explained to her daughter’s partner.

“Y/N is missing?” Bucky asked, entering with Steve. Bucky rushed to his boyfriend’s side and grasped Clint’s hand.

“Found her, sir,” JARVIS announced. 

“Put it on the screen,” Tony said, leaning against the back of the couch.

“That’s Y/N, and that’s you,” Clint said, watching the scene before him.

“That ain’t me, Sug.” Rogue shook her head. “That’s my mother.” She said as the Rogue imposter flickered blue. “And that’s the brotherhood,” Rogue added, noticing the other mutants.

“How fast can we get Nat back here?” Clint asked as the feed cut out.

“Is there any new information?” Natasha demanded as she stormed into the living room.

“Nothing.” Clint shook his head.

“JARVIS can’t track her down?” Natasha asked.

“If he could, he would’ve,” Bucky told the woman, causing her to turn and glare at him.

“Don’t give me attitude, Barnes.” She snapped.

“Knock it off the pair of you,” Clint said. “We don’t have time for the two of you to argue. Anna, did you say the professor could track her down?”

“It’ll take time, but he should be able to.” The woman nodded. “I’ll head back to the house. Let him know what’s going on.” She stood and swayed.

“Woah there.” Clint held her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m fine.” She nodded. “I need to get back to the manor.”

“How about I drive you?” Tony offered. “Katniss, Cyborg, why don’t you fill Rushman in, and I’ll take Rogue to the manor. I can help explain things to the professor.”

“Sounds swell to me, darlin’.” Anna smiled. “I’ll call with any news.” She promised.

“As will we.” Clint nodded. “We’ll get her back, Anna.”

“I know we will.” Rouge nodded. “My mother may be many things, but she would never allow harm to come to her family. At least the old her wouldn’t. I just hope she’s still that woman.” She said before leaving with Tony.

“Upstairs now,” Clint growled at his partners. “I know the two of you are pissed at each other, but you need to put that to the side right now,” Clint said once they were upstairs. “Our girlfriend is missing,

and I can’t be worried about her and worrying about the two of ripping the other’s throat out.”

“Clint, we know not to let our feelings get in the way here,” Natasha assured him.

“You better. I promised Y/N she would come home to the two of you having sorted out your issues. I can’t be a liar now.” Clint murmured, the weight of the situation having hit him.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Clint,” Bucky promised, pulling him into an embrace. “Everything will be okay.”

Reader POV

“I was wondering when you’d come to see me.” You said, leaning against the wall. “You went through enough trouble to get me.”

“If I were to say I wish I did not have to involve you in this, would you believe me?” Erik asked, walking into the center of the room.

After being electrocuted until you passed out, you had awoken in a dark room with the collar still attached to your neck. The room was entirely made out of metal, preventing your escape with its lack of doors or windows.

“No, I wouldn’t.” You said, causing the man to chuckle.

“You’re more your father’s daughter than you realize.” He commented.

“Did you bring me here to talk about family trees?” You asked, raising a brow. 

“Somewhat yes.” Erik nodded. “Your father stole something from me, and I want it back.”

“I bet I can guess what he stole.” You smirked, looking at his helmetless head.

“Astute observation." 

"You’re not getting it back if my father stole it. He’ll have gotten far away and hidden that helmet of yours.” You told him.

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Erik smirked, waving his hand and causing the metal wall to open up. “He did hide the helmet.” He said as your father was thrown into the room and onto the floor.

“Dad.” You gasped, rushing to his side.

“I’m fine, chérie.” He assured you, sitting up with a groan. “Not my first time being thrown around.”

“And it won’t be your last. I don’t take well to thieves, and I don’t have time for this. Tell me where my helmet is.” Magneto demanded.

“I’m sorry, connard.” Your father shook his head. “But, your helmet is long gone by now.”

“You’ve just sealed your own fate,” Erik said. “What comes next is your father’s fault.” He told you before opening the panel and leaving the two of you alone.

“Dad, are you okay?” You asked the man. 

“Depends, are there normally two of you?” He groaned, holding a hand to his head. “Dat big one got me in the head. I’ll be fine.”

“Dad, why did you steal from Magneto of all people?” You asked as he took your hand.

“Charles asked for my help. He said Erik was plannin’ something. He wanted to stop ‘im.” Your father said. “I got the helmet, and I got as far as I could. But they found me, jokes on ‘em, I always got a backup plan. I got it away, and in two days, it’ll arrive on Charles’ doorstep with a note of where we are.”

“So, he’ll be able to find us?”

“He’ll be able to find us chérie.” He promised, wrapping an arm around you. “We’re going to get out of here. I promise. I’m sorry I got you dragged into this.”

“I don’t blame you, dad. Not in the slightest.”

Non-reader POV

“I’m sorry, but I can’t reach her.” Charles apologized, pulling off Cerebro. “I can’t locate her whatsoever.”

“Does that mean she’s,” Clint trailed off as Rogue tightened her grip on his hand.

“I don’t know.” Charles shook his head.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Bucky asked. “I thought that machine was supposed to be able to find anyone.”

“It is. It does. There are only two reasons that could be Y/N’s in a room made of metal or she has,” Charles trailed off.

“She’s been gone for two days. This is bullshit!” Bucky yelled, storming out.

“I’ll talk to him,” Natasha said, racing after him.

“Clint, you stay here. I think I should talk to them.” Rogue said, walking after the two.

“Barnes, you need to calm the fuck down.” Rogue could hear as she came closer to the two.

“Like you can talk. I saw what you did to the training room last night.” Bucky scoffed. As Rogue turned a corner, she saw Bucky aggressively pacing as Natasha leaned against the wall.

“At least I’m not taking my anger out on other people,” Natasha said. “Something you’ve been doing for days.”

“And what does that mean?” Bucky snapped, spinning to face her.

“It means you two got some communication issues, Sarg,” Rogue announced her presence. “Don’t think none of us noticed. Ya’ll is as subtle as a zebra in a herd of horses. Want to tell me what’s eating away at the two of ya?”

“Anna, it’s not that big a deal,” Bucky told her, making Natasha scoff.

“Don’t lie to the woman,” Natasha said before turning to her girlfriend’s mother. “He’s been in a mood with me for the past week, and combined with Y/N’s kidnapping, he’s taking it out on everyone else.”

“The four of ya’ll are so in love, don’t think I’ve ever seen any of ya argue. Not even once. Must be important.” Rogue said as she walked closer. “Talk to me. You won’t be able to help Y/N if you aren’t talking with one another.”

Natasha and Bucky shared a look before the man let out a sigh.

“Nat brought up starting a family last week. Clint and Y/N were on the fence, neither of them really cared what happened. But Nat’s for, and I’m not.” Bucky admitted.

“So, you’re not happy because he don’t want a family?” Anna asked Natasha.

“It’s not that.” Bucky cut in.

“Buck wants kids. He’s already made that clear. I’m not mad that he said no then. I’m mad because his reasoning is he thinks he’s too dangerous to be a father.” Natasha explained to her almost mother-in-law.

“I’m a monster, Natasha. A murderer.” Bucky told her.

“Darlin’, you’re one of the sweetest monsters I ever met,” Rogue said. “You’re standing in a house of people who society has labeled as monsters. Some of us have done things we are not proud of. Myself included. I killed three men before I realized what my gift was.”

“But that wasn’t your fault.” Bucky protested. 

“And whatever you’ve done in your past isn’t yours either. I know your story, James. It wasn’t your fault. The blood is not on your hands, it’s on theirs.” Rouge smiled at him. “And if after all this, should the four of you start a family, I know that baby will be raised by the most loving parents it could get.”

“You’re really good at putting things in perspective.” Natasha chuckled.

“Where do you think Y/N gets it from?” Rogue smiled. “Are the two of you ready to join the others now?”

“Yeah. I have to apologize to Charles anyway.” Bucky nodded. 

“We have news,” Charles said as the three re-entered the room. “Good news. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Rogue asked, rushing towards the professor. “Were you able to find her with Cerebro?”

“No, with Remy.” He said as Clint handed over a parcel.

Rogue smirked as she pulled out Magneto’s famed helmet.

“That man can steal anything.” She chuckled, putting the helmet down and pulling out a letter. 

“That he can. He’s also always got a backup plan.” Charles said as she read through the letter.

“What does it say?” Natasha asked Anna.

“It says where they are.” Rogue looked up at her.

“That doesn’t answer the question of why it’s mostly good news,” Bucky said, folding his arms.

“Erik has a Gem of Cyttorak,” Charles told him. “And he intends to use it. All he needs is a test subject.”

Reader POV

“Chérie, you need to stop pacing.” Your father said, having watched you paced the length of the room for the past few hours.

“I can’t help it.” You groaned. “We’ve been in here for god knows how long, we still have these stupid collars on, and I have a bad feeling after what you said about the Gem of Cyttorak." 

"Chérie, you’re working yourself up.” He said as he stood. “There’s nothing we can do right now. We have no weapons and no powers. We have no options, but wait for an opening.”

“I hate how calm you are right now.” You sighed as he pulled you into an embrace.

“Been doing this a long time, ma fille.” He chuckled. “I thought you would be used to this too.”

“Never been kidnapped before, dad.” You told him. “I’m normally too good for them to get.”

“Welcome to my world.” He laughed, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “We’re going to get out of here. I’m going to get you out of here.” He said before the metal wall creaked open.

“There are few things I don’t take well to,” Magento stated as he floated into the room with the Blob and Mystique following him. “One of those things are thieves.”

“I stole from you. I get it. But my daughter, she had nothing to do with it. She didn’t even know I was here.” Your father stepped forward.

“I understand that, but she’s needed.” Magento nodded.

“For what?”

“Your daughter is a publicly accepted mutant. The homo-sapiens are not afraid of her, they love her. We are still not accepted by all, but your daughter could be the step forwards.” Erik explained.

“I am an advocate for mutant rights. Everyone knows that. I am doing what I can to show them we are not dangerous.” You said, moving to your father’s side.

“But you could do more if you were more powerful. I can enhance your powers.” Erik said as the Blob stepped forward.

“The gem.” You whispered, eyes widening in realization.

“Dat don’t work like that, Erik. You know what happened to the last three.” Your father growled, putting his arm in front of you.

“I believe I have perfected it. And if not, let it serve as a warning to not steal from me.” Magneto said as the Blob picked your father up and threw him into the wall behind you.

“Dad!” You exclaimed, wishing to rush to his side only to be grabbed by the Blob.

“Erik, this wasn’t what we discussed. You mentioned nothing about putting my granddaughter through that.” Mystique said as the Blob wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground.

“Plans change, Raven. You once said you would do anything for mutant kind. Don’t make a liar of yourself.” Erik told her as the three moved out of the room, with you struggling in the Blob’s hold.

“Raven, I’m your family. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to mom, to your daughter.” You begged, attempting to rip yourself out of his grasp.

“If this works, you will be improving life for all mutant-kind,” Erik told you. 

“I am already doing that.” You snapped. “I am showing them we are not a threat. If you do this, you are giving them something to be scared of.”

“Maybe they need to be afraid,” Erik said, opening yet another wall to reveal an almost medically set up room. “Now, if this works, your powers will be enhanced beyond what you ever thought. You will be more powerful than that team of yours combined.”

“I don’t want to be more powerful.” You said as Blob walked you towards a large chamber.

“Unfortunately, there are several side effects to the process,” Erik continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “For one, we’ve noticed subjects come out without the capability of emotions. A small sacrifice for the advancement of our kind.” He shrugged.

“Raven, please don’t let him do this.” You begged as the chamber door opened. “For me. For your daughter. For yourself, christ.” You said as the collar was ripped off you, and you were thrown into the chamber. 

The vault door sealed itself quickly, and you were trapped. You let out a loud scream as you waved your hand and threw a great burst of pure kinetic energy at the door. It budged, but it did not open.

“No more of that,” Erik said as he began the process before you could throw another burst.

A yell escaped you as the process started. You threw another blast at the vault door but fell to your knees as the light began to fill the chamber.

“No!” Raven yelled after you let out another yell. Loud grunts and thuds entered your ears before the light shut off, and the vault door opened.

Hands pulled you up and wrapped your arm around their neck before you were dragged out of the chamber.

“What did you do to them?” You asked, taking note of Magneto and the Blob’s unconscious forms.

“Chloroform bomb,” Raven said as she pulled you out of the room and into the hall. “Prototype I’m working on.” She commented.

“Where’s my dad?” You asked her.

“We’re getting him. And then the two of you are getting out of here.” She said, pulling you around a corner.

“What about you?” You asked her.

“I haven’t done anything right since you were knee-high. Maybe before that. If I can just give you two time to get out, maybe it’s a start.” She said, coming to a wall and pressing her hand to a different colored panel.

The wall slides open, and you saw your father in the middle of the room.

“Ma fille.” He gasped, rushing towards you and taking you off Raven. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything. I’m the reason Y/N got out. And the reason you’re both gonna get out. Now go.” Raven urged the two of you.

“I’m afraid no-one’s going anywhere,” Magento announced as the metal walls came to life and pinned the three of you to them. “Except back in that chamber.”

“I don’t think so.” You said, attempting to pull away. 

“And why is that?” He turned his attention to you.

“You left me uncollared.” You smirked, sending out the largest blast of energy yet.

Magento soared through the air but tightened the metal holding you. You, your father, and Raven all let out loud cries of pain as the grip became unbearable.

The Blob hurtled through the kinetic energy, collar in hand, as Toad appeared from nowhere.

Toad stole the collar from the Blob’s hand and climbed the walls to reach you. You let out an enraged cry as he snapped it back on your neck.

“Fuck!” You snapped as your energy wave was cut off, and you were left powerless. Again.

“I am going to enjoy rendering you an emotionless sieve. Our people suffer, and you fight against us.” Erik growled, floating forward. “When you see the light, you will realize, we are one. Right now, all you are is alone.” He said, stopping front of you and gripping your face.

Before you could spit at the man, comment, or otherwise, multiple shots rang through the air. Erik let out a shout as he was hit.

“We have a different definition of alone,” Bucky said as he appeared at the end of the hallway.

“Of course.” Erik scoffed. “The homo-sapien is standing in the way of progress.” He said, pulling out the bullet.

“Once again, different definitions,” Clint said as he and Natasha joined at Bucky’s side. Clint shot a plastic-tipped arrow at Magneto as Natasha handed Bucky a new gun.

“You think three of you can even match one of us?” Magneto asked, clicking his fingers. “Toad, Blob, teach our guests exactly we’re capable of.”

As your partners easily began to outmatch Magento’s goons, Mystique began to move in her binds. Your eyes were drawn to her and you watched as the woman shrunk into a mouse and slipped out her imprisonment. 

As Magneto was too distracted watching the fight, he failed to notice Raven scurry across the floor and shift back to her blue form.

Raven first moved to your father and began pulling on the man’s collar. With a small grunt, she was able to rip it off, but she alerted Magneto to what she was doing.

Your father didn’t waste any time as he used the energy to free himself and pulled a pack of cards out of one of his many pockets.

“52 explosives on hand.” He smirked, throwing a handful of them at Magneto as Mystique moved to you.

“Hold still.” She said, putting her hands on the collar. Mystique ripped the collar from your neck and you managed to get yourself out of the bindings.

Turning to the scene before you, you smiled. Toad was stuck in his own tongue, Blob lay sprawled on the floor unconscious and Erik was pinned to the floor with your father’s energy and two arrows stuck in his shoulders.

“Doll,” Bucky said, rushing forward to pull you into an embrace. A content sigh escaped you as you sagged in his grip and your two other lovers joined you and Bucky.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked, turning your face to her. “Both of you?” She asked your father.

“Fine, chérie.” Your father nodded, leaning against a wall. “Mighta crushed a rib but I’m fine.”

“Yeah I might be able to taste my spleen, but I’m good.” You smiled.

“We might need to take you two to medical,” Clint said. “Let’s get you back to the jet. Anna’s worried sick about the pair of you.” He added, causing Erik to laugh loudly.

“You’re too late.” Erik chuckled. “None of you are making it out of this building.” He said.

“What did you do?” Raven demanded of him. “Erik, what did you do?”

“If I’m correct, this building won’t be standing in three minutes. It’ll be eviscerated from the Earth along with anyone in it.” Erik said as Bucky dragged him off the floor.

“We need to get moving.” He said as Natasha lifted the Toad off the ground.

“Hang on.” You stopped Bucky, grabbing the collar off the ground. Without a word, you clamped it onto Magneto’s neck. “Let’s go.” You said, raising the Blob.

The six of you began to book it to the exit. Natasha, Clint, and Bucky were in the front of the group as they knew where to go and you were slightly trailing.

Time continued to pass and the exit was drawing near. You were so close when you were grabbed from behind. A grunt left you as Multiple Man threw you to the floor, the Blob dropping behind you.

You shot a ray of energy at him as said man turned multiple. You shot to your feet as you continued to hit him with energy. The man continued to multiply and was closing in on you.

Several gunshots made you jump and you smiled as Natasha and Mystique rushed towards you, helping you take out Multiple Man.

“The two of you get out of here.” Mystique said, pushing the two of you towards the exit. “I’ll grab these two.”

“But the bomb.” You protested as Natasha pulled you towards the exit. 

“This is my start. Go!” She said firmly. You gave your grandmother a nod before allowing Natasha to pull the two of you to an exit. 

As the two of you made it out of the building you were brought into a tight embrace from your mother.

“Thank God you’re okay, buttercup.” Your mother said, squeezing you tightly. 

“We gotta get away from the building,” Natasha said, guiding the two of you to a safe distance. 

“Where’s Raven?” Your father asked as the three of you approached the rest of the gang.

“She’ll be out in a second,” Natasha explained, resting her head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“She has ten before it’s over.” Erik laughed. “She won’t make it.”

“Shut your filthy mouth.” Your mother snapped, allowing Clint to pull you into his side. “She’ll make it.” She said, turning back to the building.

The entirety of the group turned with her to watch, wait, for Raven to stumble out. The seconds continued to pass and your mother let out a cry as the building blew. Debris flew, smoke and flames rose, and the building fell. 

Raven did not walk out.

“It was a lovely service,” Natasha said, running her fingers through your hair. “I think she would have liked it.”

“It wasn’t really for her anyway.” You shrugged. “It was more for mom. They’ve been fighting for so long, and just when I thought they’d be fine grandma went and died. At least I know what kind of woman she was.”

“From what you’ve said she wasn’t a great mother or grandmother,” Clint started, squeezing your hand. “But she knew what counted in the end. She saved you and your father.”

“I’m just glad you’re home,” Bucky said, resting his chin on Clint’s shoulder and smiling at you. “Home and safe.”

“I’m just glad you’re not fighting anymore.” You smiled back at him. 

“Your mother talked some sense into us. She’s pretty good at it.” Natasha told you.

“She is.” You agreed. 

“And it’s not the time now, but she did convince us that we should really sit down and discuss everything we need to,” Natasha added. “So hopefully there’s no more fighting over things we should be really talking about.”

“Your mom got them to stop fighting.” Clint chuckled. “That woman is an angel.”

“I’ll let her know you think so.” You said, smile glued to your face now. 

The past week had been a roller coaster of ups and downs. There were a lot of bad things that had happened, but there were silver linings. And one you could think of right now was, no more fighting in your group.

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